But perhaps the Madura Zanos remembered flourished somewhere else in these islands. Torio certainly hoped so.
He returned to his body and told the others what he had found-but as he turned to show them on the map exactly where they were, he put his finger right on the place worn thin by Zanos’ own finger as he had made his plans to return… home.
The gladiator stiffened when he realized that this desolate deserted village was indeed the place where he had lived as a child, until the day slavers had raided it and carried him off to Tiberium.
Astra, Reading her husband’s feelings, reached out to empathize-only to waken his memories of that terrible day when the slavers had come.
The ship anchored offshore, and a boatload of men rowed to land-nothing unusual about that. Ships often arrived along this coast, looking to trade or to recruit strong young men for their crews.
Young Zanos sat on the pier, sunburned, hands blistered from the net he was trying to repair with as yet unskilled hands. He’d rather have been out with the fishing fleet, but his father insisted that he wait until he was ten-“Then maybe ye’ll get some strength to ye, lad!”
The first of today’s small fishing vessels were back already, and the air was redolent with the smell as women cleaned the fish that would become tonight’s supper all through the village, throwing the refuse off the pier for the gulls.
The strangers, it seemed, were looking for a tavern. The village had only old Walvo’s, where jugs of mead or ale were sold to be carried home. The newcomers insisted that would be fine-“We’ve got a great thirst on us,” said their leader, whose sunburst tattoo attracted Zanos’ immediate attention.
Maybe one day he would leave this small village and see the world. Maybe he would wear a tattoo like that one-which he saw on other arms and realized marked every member of the ship’s crew. Many wore gold hoop earrings, too-and one man’s grin displayed a golden tooth!
As the scouts waved the others ashore, Zanos left his work and tagged along in wide-eyed delight, only to lose the strangers’ attention to the village girls until their mothers called them in to help with supper.
Then the sailors, who could not possibly have all crowded into Walvo’s, sat on the sandy beach and played games with dice, or with throwing knives.
In the hubbub, Zanos found it easy to pretend he couldn’t hear his mother calling him as he mingled with the strangers, finding the ones who spoke some Maduran, begging for stories of far-off lands.
As the tide came in, so did the rest of the fishing fleet. The village men were none too happy to find their wives cooking extra food for strangers who had brought pins, scissors, and small, sharp paring knives-or their sons and daughters hanging on the sailors’ every word.
But the sailors bought a round of ale for everyone, and handed out glass and cork floats for the fishnets-and soon what had started as an ordinary day turned into one big party.
Zanos’ older brother, Bryen, had been out with the fishing fleet-he had just turned eleven, and had gone out with their father for a year now. Zanos’ had envied him-until today, when Bryen had missed half the fun.
But now Bryen came to spoil Zanos’ fun. “Mother needs you to do your chores, Zanos!” the older boy announced. “She needs kindling cut and water drawn-hurry up, now!”
All the household chores had fallen to Zanos once his brother started going out with the fleet, and he resented being the younger, smaller one, getting stuck ashore. I’ll show Bryen, he thought.
I’ll sneak aboard that ship and sail away- and-when I come back I’ll be as rich as those sailors, with gifts for everybody!
Muttering to himself, he set about his chores with bad grace-but as he trudged from the well with two heavy water buckets suspended from the yoke across his shoulders, he heard a sudden commotion from the beach. Looking down toward it, he saw that the ship had come in on the tide, and was now anchored at the end of the pier-and in the light of the flickering fires they had built on the beach at sunset, people were milling about-
To his horror, Zanos saw two sailors grab one of the village men and stab him through the heart!
Others were reaching for the women, shoving them toward the pier as they drew their weapons and slew unarmed fishermen right and left.
Letting the water buckets fall, Zanos sped toward his home, shouting, “Mother! Hwelda! Run- runV
His mother and his sister came to the door of their cottage to see what the commotion was.
“Run! Hurry!” Zanos cried as he ran up to them and tried to grab their hands and pull them toward the garden, where the smell of roses filled the air.
“Hwelda-go with Zanos!” their mother directed, and started toward the beach.
“Mother-no!” cried Hwelda. She was fifteen, stocky, and too strong for Zanos to hold. All he could do was tag after the two women, begging them to come back.
Then they saw Zanos’ father and brother running toward them. “Go back!” shouted their father. “Up the hill and onto the moor! Hurry!”
But five sailors ran after them-Zanos’ mother screamed as she saw her husband struck down from behind, brains and blood splashing across her feet.
With a shrieking wail, she fell to her knees beside her husband-and the same sailor stabbed her in the back. She slumped across her husband’s body.
Hwelda screamed, and began to keen in the way of the village women at the death of one of their family.
Zanos stood frozen in disbelief-this could not be happening!
Bryen somehow came to his senses. “Hwelda- come on!” he cried. “Zanos-help me!”
Bryen grasped his sister’s hand on one side, Zanos on the other-but the five sailors caught the three children easily. “Let go, damn you!” growled one with a blond beard, trying to shake Bryen’s grip off Hwelda’s arm. “Let me see what I’ve caught!”
“No! Let my sister alone!” shouted Bryen.
“Let her alone!” Zanos echoed, taking courage from his brother.
The sailors laughed, and one shoved Zanos aside, another grabbing his arms as he tried to reach for Hwelda’s hand again. He squirmed and kicked, but aroused only laughter in his captor. “This one’s got spirit,” said the sailor. “With that red hair and hot temper, he’ll bring a good price in Tiberium!”
Bryen was still trying to haul Hwelda away- and for a moment succeeded in dragging the trembling girl loose from the grip of her captors. “That’s enough!” said one of them-and with his sword he slashed off Bryen’s hand.
The hand still clung to Hwelda’s wrist as she shrieked again. Bryen made no sound, but fell to his knees, eyes wide in disbelief as he instinctively clasped his good hand around his mutilated wrist.
“You’ve ruined a good laborer, damn you, Shoff!” exclaimed the blond-bearded one. Then he turned Hwelda toward the light, and cursed roundly. “This one’s fat and freckled-the boy’d have brought three times as much! No use taking any but pretty women in the space we’ve got!” And he grabbed Hwelda’s hair, tilted her head back, and slit her throat.
“We’ll take that one,” he added, pointing at Zanos-and the boy found himself being picked up bodily and carried toward the pier.
“No!” he shouted, kicking as hard as he could.
The blond one paid no attention as he turned with his knife to dispatch Bryen-but over his captor’s shoulder Zanos saw that his brother was gone.
“Should I go after him?” asked one of the other men.
“Nah-he’s no good now. He’ll bleed to death anyhow. Come on-let’s get down there and see if we can catch us a good woman!”
Zanos’ memory came to an abrupt halt, as his eyes traveled about the circle of his friends and he realized that all the Readers had experienced it with him.
Then he stood, grabbed up his half-dry woolen cloak, and stalked out of the cottage.
“Zanos-” Torio began.