Tros of Samothrace by Talbot Munday

Author:Talbot Munday [Munday, Talbot]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-08-08T23:15:04+00:00

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[[ File 2 of 2--Tros of Samothrace, by Talbot Mundy ]]

CHAPTER XLIX

LUCK O' LUD O' LUNDEN

Some of you pray for Lud's luck. And the worldly wise mock you, saying Luck loves only strength and wealth and cunning. But I tell you, ye reap as ye sowed in former lives; and in this life ye are sowing what ye shall reap in lives to come. Faith, hope, courage, these three are the seeds of Good Luck. Sow ye therefore, lest the unused seed should rot.

It is too late now to change what ye call Luck. Ye must reap as ye sowed in former lives. But Destiny depends on how ye sow and what ye sow in this life. Faith, hope, courage--greed, fear, malice. Choose. As ye sow ye shall reap.

--From the Sayings of the Druid Taliesan

They found three boats keels upward on the beach, but it took until dawn to land the charcoal-burners because the boats kept losing themselves in the fog between ship and land.

"The women. The children," Eough demanded when the last of his skin-clad men stood shivering on shore.

Tros grinned.

"They are no use to you yet," he answered. "Business first."

"I have never broken a promise," said the dwarf.

"Nor I," Tros answered. "You shall have those women and children when the work is done."

Eough shrugged his shoulders philosophically, but he did not like the idea of having to leave hostages in Tros's hands. He set the stinkballs higher up the beach and waited for further orders.

"Now remember," Tros advised him, "if the Romans see you they will make sport of you because you are small, and you will have a hard time to get away from them. Some dealer might even claim you as a slave. Or you might be kidnaped and smuggled away to Rome. Keep out of sight as much as possible. Choose your best man and send him to offer faggots for sale to the legionaries.

"They're the most improvident wastrels in the world with fuel. At the rate they were burning watchfires last night, no wood-stack would last a week. They're certain purchasers. He'll find the quartermaster who does the purchasing in a building that faces the front entrance of the camp. Let him bargain a bit for appearance' sake, but be sure he accepts finally whatever price is offered.

"The rest of you go to the woods you'll find in that direction--" he pointed southward--"glean faggots, and conceal the stinkballs in the largest ones. Then, when your man has done the bargaining, carry the faggots into the camp and stack them where the quartermaster shows you. Your men must return to the woods to sleep, but you report to me. Leave two of your men here. One of them will find you later on and tell you where I'm hidden. The other will find Glendwyr and tell him."

Eough concealed the stinkballs under heaps of seaweed in the charcoal-burners' baskets and departed into the fog, as business-like as if he were leading a hundred slaves to market.

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