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“I saved myself at the same time.” Faunos picked up his wrap and tied it on, for he was keenly aware of Afris’s dark eyes devouring him alive. The Nubiyen towered over Senmet, with dark velvet skin, luminous eyes and a lion’s mane of blond-streaked hair. “I didn’t care for the idea of being sold in some market in Karnossos,” Faunos said acidly, and then hesitated. “What’s to … become of me?”
The captain was clearly musing on the same thoughts. “Much depends on yourself, boy. I’m grateful for my life … my vessel, even my cargo! But I’ll give you fair warning. Use the enchantment against me or my crew in any way, and I shall certainly find a way to dump you overboard. And if you are indeed the incubus --”
“I’ll be celibate,” Faunos said quickly, “as I have always been.”
“Always?” Senmet’s brows arched. “A virgin?”
“All save one night,” Faunos confessed. “One lover, one night.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I should never have come back to these shores, but I was born not far from the old city of Zeheft. Part of me thought to come home.” He stooped to lift the bags up onto the barrels, and swiftly put away the gem and the bracelet. “Just take me as far as Thebes. You can leave me there. I’ll make my own way.”
“Perhaps.” Senmet was nursing his throat; speaking was difficult. “But you have that thing in your possession … and I’ve no desire to challenge you. I’ve no doubt you could bind me to your wishes.”
Faunos was still trembling in reaction to what he had done. It was the first life he had taken, and the shock of killing was more than he had imagined. He rubbed his arms hard enough to bring them up in ruddy weals. “I wouldn’t use the Power against you. I’ll harm no one, my word on it.”
“And oddly enough,” Senmet said slowly, “I’m inclined to believe you. Afris, what think you?” He looked sidelong at the ship’s mate, and Afris’s lion-maned head nodded. “Take care that you stand on your honor, boy,” Senmet growled to Faunos, and then held out a hand to Afris. “For godsakes, get me out of the hold, get me the surgeon. I feel --”
“You’re pale as scrubbed ivory,” Afris informed him, and tilted his head back to look up at the men on deck. “Send down a rope, haul him out, and shout for the butcher.”
The deck was busy, flooding as it was doused with seawater to wash away a torrent of blood. Eight bodies lay under a sheet of canvas, and as Senmet’s wound was cauterized with a sizzling iron, he listened to the tally of grief. Ten more men were injured; two would not live long, and two more were below decks, screaming as smashed limbs were removed.
“Yet I'd say we fared well,” Senmet said grimly, to Faunos’s surprise. “It could have been much worse -- it’s been much worse in the past. I’ve hunted my people into slave markets between here and Aegyptos … and never found some of them. But we’ll not see that ship, that crew, again. Eudoras’s body?”
“Fish food,” Afris said with fat satisfaction. “The Trident pulled out fast, as soon as we got the better of them. With Eudoras dead, the rest are no better than rats and roaches. If we weren’t so laden with cargo, I’ll be saying, chase her down.”
The iron sizzled again, and Senmet lost a shade more color while Faunos watched. Afris grasped his hand hard enough to break his bones, and Senmet swore in a curious rasp. Sweat rolled off him and he sagged back against the mast. “Get us moving, Afris,” he gasped. “I’ll sleep for a while. And you, boy …” He held out one shaking hand to Faunos. “I do thank you for my life.”
The Quezelus was undamaged, and the setback had cost them only a few hours. As Faunos watched, the vessel got back underway -- the deck tipped under his feet as the sail caught the following wind, the vast blade of the steering oar bit on a sharp angle, and the dead were sent to Peseden.
For Eudoras’s men, there were no rituals, no prayers or honors; but for the Quezelus’s own dead the full rites were sung. Four of the crew were eunuchs from Ilios and Nefti, and their voices were glorious. They sang as powerfully as men, in tones as high and pure as women. Afris’s vast chest gave his bass richness and volume which made Faunos shiver, as the litany for the dead was sung to Mayat, Hados and Naxos.
Aboard any kind of vessel, grief was a personal thing. Kinsmen and friends drew together and wept, while the greater crew continued to work as if nothing had happened. Only the big double-curved axe, taken out of Eudoros’s belly as a trophy, told the story. Afris had mounted it on the wall of the deckhouse, ahead of the steersman’s place.
It was still dirty with the bridgand’s blood, and Faunos could barely bring himself to look at it. Eudoros was his first blood, as soldiers called it -- less than a day after Galen’s passing, a matter of hours after the ship headed out of Vayal’s own waters. He glared at Helios, and spoke to Mayat as he stood at the rail, watching the pitching horizon.
“I took a life to save a life,” he told the goddess. “The life I took was worthless, and the life I saved belongs to one of the best men I know. But how will you judge me? What have you in store for me -- was it a test? Did I pass? Will you show me the gates that lead to the colonies where the Zehfti put down new roots, and people like me might still live and breathe?”
He watched the sky, waiting for a sign, but there was none. No one approached him as the afternoon wore through, but many eyes followed him, and he heard Senmet’s people whispering. Every man aboard knew exactly what he was, and Faunos began to fret in earnest. Many decades ago, a rich bounty had been placed on the heads of witchboys. Any man on this ship could be rich in his own right, if he handed the Zehefti fugitive to a witchfinder in Thebes.
Careful as ever, he secured the books and the Eye of Helios, laced the bags with fresh rawhide, and pushed them back under the bed in the tiny cabin. He left the sword unpacked, lying alongside the goatskins, where he could put his hand on it fast, if he were disturbed in the night.
But as afternoon dwindled into evening a Keltoi youth crept closer with a cup of berry juice; a young man from Incaria brought him a succulent mango; one of the Iliosian eunuchs gave him a bronze charm for good luck -- a dolphin the size of his small finger, on a leather thong. Faunos accepted the gifts, and when Afris returned to duty on the evening watch, he ate with the man.
Sunset had begun to flood the sky with blood and gold, which was the joy of mariners. Afris and the steersman were frying fish over a brazier in the lee of the deckhouse, and the smell of food made Faunos’s mouth water.
Before he could ask, Afris offered him a plate. “Senmet --?” Faunos asked.
“Is sore and sweated and in foul tempers,” Afris said unconcernedly, “which means he’ll be drunk tonight, cursing in the morning, and returned to his old, sweet self thereafter. And you, boy. What troubles you? I see you chafing at some puzzle.”
Faunos was eating as he gestured at the crew. “They know what I am now. Vayal pays highly for my kind. Who among them will turn me in for the bounty?”
The lion-maned head shook slowly. “We’re seafarers. Most of us are alive and at liberty tonight because of you, and we all believe that if you throw your good fortune back in the face of Mayat, you fetch down doom upon all. Look at them. They’re Incari, Keltoi, Iliosian, Neftish, Aegyyptian, a few from Nubiye, like myself -- which means we’re as superstitious as any man in Vayal, we just believe in different ghosts!” Afris lifted a brow at Faunos. “You’ll be welcome to stay aboard, if you like. We sometimes sail out as far as Jaymaca in the west and the Keltoi shores in the east, and the worst part of it is Hurucan. And the pirates,” he added with a white-toothed grin, almost as an afterthought. “With you aboard, bastard scum like Eudoros will soon learn to let us pass by.”
“I -- I could.” Faunos was astonished. “I hadn’t thought of it.”
Afris leaned on the long steering oar as he ate. “It would be difficult for the witchfinders to know you exist, if you’re never in any port longer than a tide or three.” He spat out a bone and looked Faunos up and down. “There’s Keltoi lads aboard who know a thing or two about the Power. They’ll fight for the privilege of your company, if you want to pick a lover.”
Now Faunos shivered. He had not thought of this, either. “The Power doesn’t concern you,” he observed.
“Not me.” Afris made the sign of the Jaguar before his face. “I’ve seen dark magic, where the jungle is so thick, you can’t look down and see your own feet! Zehefti magic is bright and clear as mountain water. I respect it. I know the names of Diomedas and Hellas and Iridan. They’re written into legend, even where I come from.”
A vast sense of relief coursed through Faunos. He sagged back against the deckhouse and mocked himself with a shaky chuckle. “I’ve never met people like you and Senmet. My teacher -- may the gods bless his soul -- kept me apart from people. Wisely, I always thought. Was he wrong?”
The captain was clearly musing on the same thoughts. “Much depends on yourself, boy. I’m grateful for my life … my vessel, even my cargo! But I’ll give you fair warning. Use the enchantment against me or my crew in any way, and I shall certainly find a way to dump you overboard. And if you are indeed the incubus --”
“I’ll be celibate,” Faunos said quickly, “as I have always been.”
“Always?” Senmet’s brows arched. “A virgin?”
“All save one night,” Faunos confessed. “One lover, one night.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I should never have come back to these shores, but I was born not far from the old city of Zeheft. Part of me thought to come home.” He stooped to lift the bags up onto the barrels, and swiftly put away the gem and the bracelet. “Just take me as far as Thebes. You can leave me there. I’ll make my own way.”
“Perhaps.” Senmet was nursing his throat; speaking was difficult. “But you have that thing in your possession … and I’ve no desire to challenge you. I’ve no doubt you could bind me to your wishes.”
Faunos was still trembling in reaction to what he had done. It was the first life he had taken, and the shock of killing was more than he had imagined. He rubbed his arms hard enough to bring them up in ruddy weals. “I wouldn’t use the Power against you. I’ll harm no one, my word on it.”
“And oddly enough,” Senmet said slowly, “I’m inclined to believe you. Afris, what think you?” He looked sidelong at the ship’s mate, and Afris’s lion-maned head nodded. “Take care that you stand on your honor, boy,” Senmet growled to Faunos, and then held out a hand to Afris. “For godsakes, get me out of the hold, get me the surgeon. I feel --”
“You’re pale as scrubbed ivory,” Afris informed him, and tilted his head back to look up at the men on deck. “Send down a rope, haul him out, and shout for the butcher.”
The deck was busy, flooding as it was doused with seawater to wash away a torrent of blood. Eight bodies lay under a sheet of canvas, and as Senmet’s wound was cauterized with a sizzling iron, he listened to the tally of grief. Ten more men were injured; two would not live long, and two more were below decks, screaming as smashed limbs were removed.
“Yet I'd say we fared well,” Senmet said grimly, to Faunos’s surprise. “It could have been much worse -- it’s been much worse in the past. I’ve hunted my people into slave markets between here and Aegyptos … and never found some of them. But we’ll not see that ship, that crew, again. Eudoras’s body?”
“Fish food,” Afris said with fat satisfaction. “The Trident pulled out fast, as soon as we got the better of them. With Eudoras dead, the rest are no better than rats and roaches. If we weren’t so laden with cargo, I’ll be saying, chase her down.”
The iron sizzled again, and Senmet lost a shade more color while Faunos watched. Afris grasped his hand hard enough to break his bones, and Senmet swore in a curious rasp. Sweat rolled off him and he sagged back against the mast. “Get us moving, Afris,” he gasped. “I’ll sleep for a while. And you, boy …” He held out one shaking hand to Faunos. “I do thank you for my life.”
The Quezelus was undamaged, and the setback had cost them only a few hours. As Faunos watched, the vessel got back underway -- the deck tipped under his feet as the sail caught the following wind, the vast blade of the steering oar bit on a sharp angle, and the dead were sent to Peseden.
For Eudoras’s men, there were no rituals, no prayers or honors; but for the Quezelus’s own dead the full rites were sung. Four of the crew were eunuchs from Ilios and Nefti, and their voices were glorious. They sang as powerfully as men, in tones as high and pure as women. Afris’s vast chest gave his bass richness and volume which made Faunos shiver, as the litany for the dead was sung to Mayat, Hados and Naxos.
Aboard any kind of vessel, grief was a personal thing. Kinsmen and friends drew together and wept, while the greater crew continued to work as if nothing had happened. Only the big double-curved axe, taken out of Eudoros’s belly as a trophy, told the story. Afris had mounted it on the wall of the deckhouse, ahead of the steersman’s place.
It was still dirty with the bridgand’s blood, and Faunos could barely bring himself to look at it. Eudoros was his first blood, as soldiers called it -- less than a day after Galen’s passing, a matter of hours after the ship headed out of Vayal’s own waters. He glared at Helios, and spoke to Mayat as he stood at the rail, watching the pitching horizon.
“I took a life to save a life,” he told the goddess. “The life I took was worthless, and the life I saved belongs to one of the best men I know. But how will you judge me? What have you in store for me -- was it a test? Did I pass? Will you show me the gates that lead to the colonies where the Zehfti put down new roots, and people like me might still live and breathe?”
He watched the sky, waiting for a sign, but there was none. No one approached him as the afternoon wore through, but many eyes followed him, and he heard Senmet’s people whispering. Every man aboard knew exactly what he was, and Faunos began to fret in earnest. Many decades ago, a rich bounty had been placed on the heads of witchboys. Any man on this ship could be rich in his own right, if he handed the Zehefti fugitive to a witchfinder in Thebes.
Careful as ever, he secured the books and the Eye of Helios, laced the bags with fresh rawhide, and pushed them back under the bed in the tiny cabin. He left the sword unpacked, lying alongside the goatskins, where he could put his hand on it fast, if he were disturbed in the night.
But as afternoon dwindled into evening a Keltoi youth crept closer with a cup of berry juice; a young man from Incaria brought him a succulent mango; one of the Iliosian eunuchs gave him a bronze charm for good luck -- a dolphin the size of his small finger, on a leather thong. Faunos accepted the gifts, and when Afris returned to duty on the evening watch, he ate with the man.
Sunset had begun to flood the sky with blood and gold, which was the joy of mariners. Afris and the steersman were frying fish over a brazier in the lee of the deckhouse, and the smell of food made Faunos’s mouth water.
Before he could ask, Afris offered him a plate. “Senmet --?” Faunos asked.
“Is sore and sweated and in foul tempers,” Afris said unconcernedly, “which means he’ll be drunk tonight, cursing in the morning, and returned to his old, sweet self thereafter. And you, boy. What troubles you? I see you chafing at some puzzle.”
Faunos was eating as he gestured at the crew. “They know what I am now. Vayal pays highly for my kind. Who among them will turn me in for the bounty?”
The lion-maned head shook slowly. “We’re seafarers. Most of us are alive and at liberty tonight because of you, and we all believe that if you throw your good fortune back in the face of Mayat, you fetch down doom upon all. Look at them. They’re Incari, Keltoi, Iliosian, Neftish, Aegyyptian, a few from Nubiye, like myself -- which means we’re as superstitious as any man in Vayal, we just believe in different ghosts!” Afris lifted a brow at Faunos. “You’ll be welcome to stay aboard, if you like. We sometimes sail out as far as Jaymaca in the west and the Keltoi shores in the east, and the worst part of it is Hurucan. And the pirates,” he added with a white-toothed grin, almost as an afterthought. “With you aboard, bastard scum like Eudoros will soon learn to let us pass by.”
“I -- I could.” Faunos was astonished. “I hadn’t thought of it.”
Afris leaned on the long steering oar as he ate. “It would be difficult for the witchfinders to know you exist, if you’re never in any port longer than a tide or three.” He spat out a bone and looked Faunos up and down. “There’s Keltoi lads aboard who know a thing or two about the Power. They’ll fight for the privilege of your company, if you want to pick a lover.”
Now Faunos shivered. He had not thought of this, either. “The Power doesn’t concern you,” he observed.
“Not me.” Afris made the sign of the Jaguar before his face. “I’ve seen dark magic, where the jungle is so thick, you can’t look down and see your own feet! Zehefti magic is bright and clear as mountain water. I respect it. I know the names of Diomedas and Hellas and Iridan. They’re written into legend, even where I come from.”
A vast sense of relief coursed through Faunos. He sagged back against the deckhouse and mocked himself with a shaky chuckle. “I’ve never met people like you and Senmet. My teacher -- may the gods bless his soul -- kept me apart from people. Wisely, I always thought. Was he wrong?”
Turn page to Chapter Twenty conclusion...
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