A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow of Heaven (40 page)

“Lightning. Oil lamp. I don’t know. Whatever it was, it saved us, because daybreak was already upon us and the smoke was seen from shore. The storm fled with the sun.”

“
Curse that merchantman. Their captain should have known better.”

“Why,
pelargós
? Is it so strange that a captain should answer to a higher authority?” She wore the look of happy smugness that came whenever she thought she had won an argument.

“Our fleet captains follow orders. That man’s higher authority was most likely the empty, open chests in his hold.”

Livia stared at me for just an instant, long enough to be sure I understood that Crassus had no better motive, and risked far more. “Too true,” she said. “Though they’ll only be filled with salt water now. He sailed with whores to follow the legions.”

“I am sorry for his loss. And theirs. And ours. But I care only for you. You might have been killed.”

“If not for Nebta and Khety, I would have been.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head and grimaced, preparing myself by repeating that she was here now, safe beside me. “Go on.”

“Broken oars moved back and forth upon the rolling sea like a child’s game of sticks. When a foaming crest broke, it would send them skidding down the wave wall like tiny spears. Every now and then a sea lion would raise its shiny head and stare at the mess we humans had made upon their waters. They were one with the rolling waves—their whiskered heads would suddenly appear, as if the sea had eyes; in the next moment they’d be gone. When they looked at me, and they did—right at me—the flames danced in their black eyes. I couldn’t tell if they were curious or sad because they could not help us.

“The bigger pieces of the ships that were still afloat and not aflame were crowded with men and women. Those frantic people had lost their minds; not just those who kicked and jabbed to keep the rest away, but the ones who tried to clamber aboard and join them. When the decking went under, as it must, they clawed at each other and brought their own ends
down upon themselves even faster. I turned away.

“The biggest piece of wreckage still afloat was our
trireme
, more than half the ship. But it was on fire at the prow. There were seven or eight soldiers, our captain among them, their backs to the flames, swords drawn. They were keeping everyone else off the ship. Anyone who tried to climb up onto the wreck was knocked back into the water!”

“Why?!”

“They were protecting the fire. The captain wanted the ship to burn, but those in the water wanted to cling to it. Naturally.”

“
What happened?”

“About a dozen men with lengths of oars
climbed aboard and tried to rush them. One of the captain’s men went down, but the others were all killed. The ones who wanted to put out the flames jumped back into the sea when they saw their brothers slain. The captain was furious. The storm was letting up by then. He ran out into the middle of what was left of the ship—by then there wasn’t much—and yelled that he’d kill any man who so much as spit on the fire. But that was later.”

“What was the name of that
trierarch
, do you remember?”

“I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“I hope he lived. He is surely another reason why you sit beside me today.” Livia tilted her head. “The smoke from the flames, rising in the dawn. He knew it was a beacon, the only way a rescue party could find the survivors. And keeping people off the wreck might keep it afloat just long enough to save the rest.”

“It seems heartless and cruel.”

“It was, by one rod. By another, it saved lives. The captain had to have believed it was his only choice. But heartless and cruel,
vulpecula
, either way. What did you mean by ‘later’?”

“I’d been floating for almost an hour when the fight on
Circe
took place. Before, when I first burst to the surface and filled my lungs, through my stinging eyes I saw a legionary clinging to a narrow bit of decking, no more than ten feet long and half as wide. A piece of railing opposite to where he clung made the scrap resemble nothing so much as a large child’s boat. His head lay upon his crossed arms. He was balding at the back of his head and it made me think of you. A large wave rolled down upon us and suddenly he jerked upward, throwing his arms in the air. I saw the ‘o’ of his mouth and the stubble on his chin. His eyes blinked as the rain pelted his upturned face. The wave pushed the scrap of decking past me and I grabbed at it and managed to catch the railing. I couldn’t believe that soldier would relinquish his hold on the raft. I shouted out to him. For a moment I couldn’t see him as the swell passed, then an oar rolled up into the air. It was embedded in the poor man’s back like a mast. He floated past me face down.”

“Livia…
” What a useless thing to say. But we have to try, don’t we? To attempt to console, though we know that consolation lies not within our power, but in Time’s alone. We make noises of comfort, but when even we are not convinced, how then can those sounds be heard by those they are meant to soothe? My wife’s stories were suddenly making me very much afraid. Not for the ordeal she had been forced to endure, but for those yet to come. This was no place for us.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I’ve seen my share of bloated corpses floating down the Nile.”

I knew she hadn’t, for Egyptians were scrupulously hygienic about such matters, but I let her go on. Each of us has their own way of declining comfort. “I climbed up on the wreckage,” she said, “without turning it upside-down. There must have been something heavy underneath acting as a keel. I was still catching my breath from the effort, thinking how lucky I was when a grizzled old legionary came swimming toward me with a great deal of shouting and cursing and splashing. He’d shoved two oars through his belt and was swimming as fast as this awkward arrangement would let him. In the swell beyond him, between him and the wrecks, I saw first one, then another sea lion raised its sleek, black head to watch for awhile, but when I turned to look back again, they were gone.

‘“Sorry, dear,’ he said, grabbing the
far end of the planking, ‘this one’s taken. Whew! I’m exhausted! Ever try to stay balanced on two of these things? No, I don’t suppose you have.’ His head was as square as one of
domina’s
pretty amber earrings, though ‘pretty’ was the last thing anyone would ever think to call him,
including
his mother. He had a big dent in his forehead on one side and that eye was blind, the cornea gone completely white.

“I knew what he was about and I wasn’t going to
argue with him so I told him, ‘Fair enough, take it, but let me have the oars.’ He shook his head while wrestling to get them free of his belt. I was astonished. ‘One, then.’

‘“Afraid not,’
he says.

‘“Look,’
I said, and by now I’m glancing frantically about for something I can pry loose for a weapon, ‘you can’t have the decking
and
the oars. It makes no sense.’

‘
“Makes perfect sense,’ he said. ‘I’m stealing your deck. I give you an oar, you’ll bash my head in, take it back, and with my last breath I’d be the first to congratulate you.’

‘
“Soldier, I’m a doctor. I don’t hurt people. We can help each other, get through this together.’

‘“No, don’t think so,’
he says. ‘These are difficult times, dear, difficult times.’

‘
“I’ll give you the raft, I swear, just give me a chance. One oar. I’ll float away with the current, and you’ll never see me again.’

‘
“If you’re asking, ask for two. How do you know I won’t give you a swift crack across your back with the one left behind while you’re making your escape?’

‘
“Escape?! Man, pull yourself together! We are trying to survive a tragedy. Look about you. Do you not see what is happening here?’

“Then he tells me this. ‘
Oh, I see right well enough. I’ve survived worse. And I’ll survive this. But you’re right about one thing. We need to take care of what my centurion likes to call ‘variables.’ I don’t know what that means exactly, but it’s got something to do with whittling down the number of things that can go wrong.’ He checked to see which way the current was flowing, hefted one of the oars like a spear and hurled it as far in that direction as he could, which was right over my head. He did the same with the second oar while I watched in disbelief. He was mad, and I told him so.

“A big wave washed over us from behind. It hit the back of his close-cropped hair and sprayed over h
im like a green, hooded cloak, then hit me full in the face. I held on to the rail with one hand and with the other frantically wiped my hair and salt water from my eyes. He hadn’t moved. But the sea lions had popped up again, this time closer, about thirty feet away.

“
‘You’re the one who’s fogged over,’ the soldier said, ‘and you’ve got twice the sight as me. You poor dear, can’t you see I’ve been talking to a corpse ever since I showed up?’

“What?! You don’t need to kill me.’
I scrambled to the farthest end of the decking and held on to the vertical piece of railing, and while I was doing this he reached down below the water line and came back up with a dagger. There was ten feet of flotsam between us. I tugged hard at the jagged spike and felt it give a little.

“‘Here, I’ll reason it out with you,’ he said. ‘
But don’t think that sliver is going to be much use to you, even if you do wrench it free.’ He put the dagger between his teeth, pressed both hands flat on the deck and tried to hoist himself up. He couldn’t do it. He slipped. He tried again and failed. I thought about swimming away, but I couldn’t bring myself to get back in the water. Instead, I pushed and pulled with all my strength at the railing, hoping the sea and the collision had done my work for me. Thank Diana, it had, and that at least kept him on the far side of the wreckage, when he saw me crouching and wild-eyed, holding a four-foot spike of twisted iron and wood.

“
He said, ‘Congratulations, darling, but let me set you straight. Seeing as you’re a healer, it’s fair to say you deserve an explanation. I’ve threatened you, understand, so damage done. You’re important—look at them red stripes on your tunic. You might tell, you might not. You see my point, dear. Me, I’m a twenty-year man, but that won’t stop them. They’ll stone me till I’m good and stove in if we get picked up. So there you are. You’re a variable.’

“‘Not if I swear to say nothing.’

“‘Swear all you like, you’re still a variable. But if you’re down there,’ he said, using his knife to point to the sea floor, ‘then all’s well and good.’ The he shouts at the top of his voice, ‘FUCK ME!’”

“Must you, Livia?” I asked. “He said those precise words?”

“To the letter. On either side of him, but just out of reach, the sea lions had risen again, the water sliding off their black pelts like oil. Except that they spoke. Were they Nereids, come to my aid, or sirens, risen from the deep to finish what rain and wave could not. I resisted the urge to stop up my ears, for that would mean having to let go of my weapon.

“‘Everyone got trouble here,’ one said, tilting her head back toward the burning wreckage.
Her hair was as black as her eyes, so short it looked painted on. She rose higher in the sea, water streaming off her breasts.

‘“Everyone who got goodness,’ the other one said, ‘this be the time to cast it about them like a net.’ She was also naked, as far as I could tell. It was Nebta and Khety, in case you hadn’t guessed by now. They were survivors from the merchant ship.”

“I surmised. So there were no actual sea lions.”

“Oh, but there were. At first. Later,
when the girls were following the legionary, my eyes saw what they expected they would see. The soldier laughed and said, ‘Wouldn’t you know the only time
Fortuna’s
ever handed me three all to myself, terra firma and anything decent to grab hold of for purchase is miles away.’

‘“We been watching you,’ Khety said. ‘You got no net to cast.’

“The look of the happy brothel patron fell off his face like a mask and all that was left was the soldier-killer. When he spoke again
, the knife moved in a flat arc back and forth between them, with me at the center. ‘Don’t understand a thing you’re saying, dear, but don’t care much for your tone, neither.’

‘“How much you pay for them oars?’ Nebta asked him. The soldier looked like he’d been smacked with one. He stared at her. ‘A good man, he give you one.’

“Khety said, ‘But you got to have two, and you make that good man pay, you make him pay good. Why you think your breath smell so much sweeter than everyone else?’

“‘Tell you what, dear, swim a little closer and I’ll give you a whiff of it, maybe even let you and your friend take a grip of this here decking, one on a side to help balance it, understand?’

“‘Variable,’ Nebta said. ‘Understand?’ She rose in the waters, paddling with strong hands by her hips, drawing the soldier’s eye with the swell of her rising breasts, her nipples, black on black perfection, holding his attention as they had uncounted men before him. With his head turned, he didn’t see Khety slip silently below the surface.