Tom Holt by Alexander at the World's End

Author:Alexander at the World's End
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-10-25T19:35:16+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

T here are days when the world changes. Between sunrise and sunset, something happens, and nothing is ever the same again. I always had a suspicion that if such a day happened during my lifetime, it'd be on the day after I'd been out all night at a really obnoxious party, which'd have left me so hung over and drained that I stayed in bed all day and so slept through the great event that changed the world, and would have to rely on other people's accounts of what happened for ever after.

Well, for once I beat my own low expectation of myself. On the seventh day of the month Metageitnion* during my tenth year in Olbia, in the slack period following the harvest and the mad panic of getting the year's corn threshed and stored, I was down at our newly finished jetty helping to stow thirty-seven jars of my surplus grain on board a ship bound for Athens. It was the Start of the trading season; the sea was relatively calm and predictable, nothing much to do on the farm for five or six weeks, prompting the industrious man to better himself by seeking opportunities away from home, either in person or through the proxy of his merchandise. Thirty-seven jars was substantially more disposable surplus than I'd had before, so I was feeling bright and cheerful. I almost wished I was going with them, to see Athens again, maybe even look up my brothers, find out what they'd been up to, inspect the crop of nephews and nieces, walk the familiar fields and pontificate on how much better everything was in Olbia...

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