Poseidon's Spear by Christian Cameron

Author:Christian Cameron [Cameron, Christian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781409114116
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

11

The wind came up at midday, while we were still in an orgy of drinking the water. The blow began from the east, and as the wind went around the points of the compass it rose and rose, and when it settled as an easterly, it shrieked along the beach like a racehorse.

We got rollers under our keel and moved our black ship up the beach. I was afraid of storms, but I was more afraid of being caught by the Phoenicians with my keel in the water where they could just tow her off.

And then, full of water, we were given a meal – and we went to sleep. I’d love to tell you that we posted guards and acted like good sailors or even good pirates, but we passed out, and it was twelve hours before most of us were up.

I had the energy to help a dozen other men pitch a tent – to pull Seckla into it, lie him on blankets and curl up by him with Doola on one side of him and Sittonax on the other. It was cool in mid-afternoon, and promised to be cold at night.

In the morning, Seckla was moaning on his bedroll. I knew what came next. In the dawn, I considered putting a knife in him. Gut wounds are horrible. I’d watched a few.

But Doola’s eyes were open, and I knew he’d never forgive me.

But again, Behon worked to our rescue. He found a doctor – one of the Kelt doctors, who were also priests, men of learning and often musicians – and led him by the hand to Doola’s side.

‘Good morning,’ said the white beard, in a passable imitation of Attic Greek. Then he rolled Seckla over and examined his stomach wound for some time.

‘No food,’ he said. ‘Nothing but water. I’ll be back.’ He picked up his heavy staff and left our tent.

Seckla moaned, but he didn’t scream. Yet.

Outside, we could hear rain on the tent, and I went out. We were two hundred men in four tents, stacked like cordwood; the easiest way out was to crawl under the edge. It was wet, and cold.

I found Behon standing in the rain, and Sittonax. We walked through the downpour to the water’s edge, and looked out into the mist. The wind was from the south, and moderate enough.

Sittonax led me up the beach to the warehouses. There were six of them, built of timber and thatch, and a pair of stone roundhouses, not unlike the Venetiae houses; not unlike a military tower in Boeotia, either, except that the stones were smaller and completely unmortared.

The first warehouse contained about a hundred ingots of tin, and each ingot was shaped like a capital eta, H, and weighed as much as a grown child.

I laughed.

I laughed and laughed.

‘This is where the tin comes from,’ I said, satisfied.

Behon said something quickly, and laughed.

Sittonax nodded sagely. ‘Not quite. He says the tin comes from the land opposite, and farther inland. They gather it here, to sell to traders.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.