The Days of Peleg (18 page)

His urgency was exceeded only by his intolerable timing. There was nothing worse than being wakened just as one was falling asleep. He began to envision extremely painful things he could do to Serug as he drifted back to sleep.

He was suddenly awakened again as Serug entered the cabin.

“Come on,” he insisted. “Follow me!”

“Serug,” he asked with weary reflection. “How many death threats have you received since this voyage began?”

Peleg lifted himself from his bed and pulled on his sandals. He groggily followed Serug across the sunlit deck as he headed towards the forecastle.

“This had better not have anything to do with those birds of yours—or some new way to prepare them.”

Serug turned and grinned. He said nothing and continued leading. Just before arriving at the galley, he reached for the door to Thaxad’s cabin.

“We can’t go in there!” Peleg protested. “Don’t you have
any
respect?”

“It’s all right,” he nodded. “Look in here.”

He opened the door, then stepped aside so that Peleg could enter.

Peleg slowly entered the room, unsure as to what Serug was up to. He scanned the room, his eyes adjusting to the reduced light. Then he realized what Serug wanted him to see. His mouth dropped in astonishment.

Seated next to Thaxad’s charts and scrolls was Thaxad himself! He was bent over his workbench, apparently painting something with great detail.

“Please close the door,” he stated, nonchalantly. “The breeze is blowing my copper filings around.”

Serug closed the door while Peleg gaped. Finally he said, “But I thought that you, well…”

Thaxad looked up and stared. “That I what?”

Peleg tried again. “You weren’t on the ship when we left!”

“You are correct.” Thaxad turned back to his desk.

Peleg moved over to him, now thoroughly irritated.

“You have to let us know how you got here! I mean, we thought we had been forced to leave you!”

Thaxad thought for a bit, then finally acquiesced.

“If you must know, I’ve been with you the entire time.”

Thoroughly exasperated, Peleg said, “Enough evasion. Give us the details.”

Thaxad turned on his stool and began. From Serug’s grin, it was obvious he had already heard the account.

“They took me to all of their meetings to keep an eye on me, and I understood a great deal more than I let on. When it became clear that I was held hostage, I knew they would eventually deliver their ultimatum.

“They had secured me in a hut right next to one of their old outdoor latrines that had not been used for a great while. I was guarded by one man, and I was expected to use this abandoned ‘facility’. After a few trips, I was allowed to go without any supervision.”

He looked up with excitement in his eyes. Peleg had never seen him enthusiastic about anything.

“The latrine was a wonderful find, as I was able to dig down through the moldy layers of human excrement for excellent samples of dry, earthy, saltpeter!”

Peleg was completely revolted, and his expression displayed doubts about Thaxad’s sanity.

“I was able to collect small quantities in my hut, and I ground my samples carefully with a small improvised mortar and pestle.

“I also collected bits of charcoal from the morning fires after they died and brought them back. I ground this to powder, also, and kept it in a safe place.”

Peleg was utterly confused. He could not conceive of any scenario that made use of these ingredients. He opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by Thaxad’s hand.

“Chief Peleg,” he demanded. “What is the final ingredient I needed?”

Peleg was stunned. “How could I possibly know…?”

Serug interrupted. “Sulfur!” He nodded like a schoolboy at Thaxad. “Sulfur, right?”

“Yes, Master Serug,” he nodded politely. He turned to Peleg. “Where might someone find sulfur on a volcanic island?”

“Well, from brimstone embedded in old vents. But I don’t see…”

“No, of course not.”

Thaxad continued, but with a faraway look in his eyes.

“I just love sulfur. So many interesting properties… Fire, paint, medicine—not to mention its brilliant vibrant color.”

He re-focused.

“Anyway, I started collecting small nuggets of solidified brimstone the second I got to this island. I happened to have some on me in my day-pouch when I was detained.”

He spoke quickly, now, using some words that Peleg didn’t know and had to guess their meaning.

“I finely ground the saltpeter, charcoal, and brimstone (but not together, for obvious reasons) and kept them hidden in my hut.

“I made a mixture of seventy-five percent nitrate, fifteen percent carbon, and ten percent sulfur. I mixed this with just enough urine until I had a fine, doughy consistency. (Urine is just
full
of oxygen!).

“I placed my remaining sulfur and charcoal in small bags made from pieces of cloth torn from my cloak. I tied the ends shut with blades of grass and waited.

“I hoped that Kupé would deliver the instructions on re-working my message so that Captain Phaxâd would know to leave without me. On the day when they returned from delivering their demands, I made my move. On the next day they would go to the
Urbat
for Utebbibassu, and I knew that Captain Phaxâd would be long gone.”

Thaxad looked up at the ceiling as if he were finished with his narrative. After a few moments, the impatient Peleg was forced to respond.

“And
then
what did you do?”

“That night I set fire to my hut.”

Thaxad looked into Peleg’s eyes, demonstrating a sense of drama that no one would have ever suspected. When Peleg said nothing, indicating he should proceed, he continued.

“I always keep a few phosphor sticks in my pouch,” he confided. “There’s a reason for carrying around ground up animal bones. Phosphorite, you know.”

He resumed his story.

“I ignited a small torch and burned off the ropes which tied my wrists.” He held up his hands, showing the evidence of second-degree burns. “I then torched my hut and began yelling. Moments later, my guard entered the room, and I blew a handful of my mixture into his face, holding my torch between us.

“The mixture passed through the flames, and by the time they reached him, his head was engulfed in a cloud of sparkling, burning smoke which had the added advantage of smelling bad.”

Thaxad almost smiled.

“He collapsed on the ground with a howl, and I gathered my small sulfur/charcoal sacks and lit them one at a time, tossing them in the direction of the
Urbat
.

“The other men were now approaching, and I hid in the trees behind my burning hut in the opposite direction. The men saw my prison, which was now was fully engulfed, and then took off to the north, following the smoking trail from my burning sacks.

“I waited until the camp was empty, then I made my way westward along the southern coastline, then turned inland to the northwest until I arrived near the base of their special mountain.” He looked around, daring Peleg to remind him that he had traversed the forbidden area a second time. When no protest was forthcoming, he continued.

“Eventually I reached the western coast (near where we first landed) and then made my way northward. The full moon made travel very easy. By the time I reached the
Urbat
, it was just before midnight.” He looked around. “I sincerely hoped that this wasn’t the time the Captain had planned to leave.”

“How did you make it to the ship?” Peleg asked. “The beach was surrounded by their sentries and they were observing the ship constantly.”

Thaxad nodded patiently. “I swam, of course. I entered the water long before I had reached the sentries. It was then a simple matter of submerging and swimming out to the far side of the ship. I climbed the sides quietly, grasping a rowing shelf with my toes, then climbed into the port dinghy where I remained in hiding. I didn’t want to alarm anyone, since the islanders might have overheard the commotion.” He looked over at Serug. “They shoot flaming arrows, you know.”

Serug nodded. “Yes, we saw them as we left. They would have easily ignited the ship if we were still in range.”

The Mentor continued.

“After we were well underway, I climbed the rest of the way and crept into my cabin where I fell asleep.” He looked directly at Peleg. “I was
very
tired.

“I slept soundly until I was suddenly wakened by this scoundrel as he was rifling through my belongs, hoping to abscond with anything that his lost shipmate would no longer need.” He glared at Serug with disdain.

“I figured that’s what your note meant,” Serug retorted. “You told me ‘I knew where I could go’.” He smiled as if that justified digging through Thaxad’s belongings.

“You
know
where you can go,” Thaxad responded gruffly.

“I figured I should get to work on my studies and I thought your writings were a good place to start,” Serug insisted with the sameinnocent grin.

“You don’t even understand Minoan,” Thaxad snarled.

Peleg interrupted their friendly quarrel.

“Who else knows you’re here?”

“I do,” came a voice through the doorway. Captain Phaxâd entered the room which was now becoming very crowded.

“Welcome back, Castor Thaxad,” he greeted. “It’s good to have my Chief Chemist back on board.”

“Captain,” said Peleg. “You don’t seem to be surprised to see him.”

The captain laughed. “I would be more surprised
not
to see him. We’ve done a great deal of exploring around the Great Sea, and he always manages to get out of the scrapes he invariably gets into.” He addressed the Mentor.

“I waited until the last possible moment. When we left, I saw that you weren’t in your cabin, but I figured you might find some way to signal us. I watched the island for a possible signal, then I checked your cabin again.”

He grinned at the others.

“Nobody snores like a Mentor,” he declared.

“If you would all leave my cabin so I can get some work done, I would greatly appreciate it,” Thaxad growled. “I seem to have fallen behind in my research these last few months.”

“I can’t imagine whose fault that is,” said Phaxâd. “I still haven’t decided how you should be disciplined for your insubordination.” He looked upward with his hand on his chin.

“It’s been a while since I presided over an execution,” he mused. “It might be good to send a message to the rest of the crew.”

He looked back at the un-amused Thaxad.

“I suppose you’ve been through enough,” he said. “The fact you had to go mining in their latrines is punishment enough—although knowing you, you probably enjoyed it.”

Thaxad studied his captain. “Thank you, sir,” was all he said.

“All right! Everybody out,” ordered Phaxâd. “We’ll make a general announcement later.” He ushered Peleg and Serug out, then closed the door behind him.

Looking them in the eyes he said, “As Captain, I always have to assume I’m right even when I’m not sure.” He motioned toward the Castor’s door. “That man has more lives than a
tidnum
.” He headed out to the main deck shaking his head.

Serug was not making any new friends, now that his
tum
coops kept the lower decks smelling of avian excrement. Some secretly nicknamed him
Rihu-Tuma
, or flatulent bird-breeder, and it was not meant to be complimentary.

Eventually, Captain Phaxâd had to order Serug to move his cages to the poop deck (Phaxâd had insisted, ‘Pun intended’) where
Zini
was stored, and where Peleg was currently inflating its envelope. The small burner which heated the air inside the great balloon used fish oil, but Serug promised that his strange black and white birds could provide fuel for the same purpose.

Serug accompanied Peleg in the basket that afternoon. They had certainly gone their separate ways during the last few months, but once back at sea, they returned to their previous patterns. Peleg was certain they had finally reached S
uhurmashû
and were heading due east.

“What do you suppose will become of your friend Kupé and the other islanders?” Serug asked. He knew that Peleg had become close to Kupé, and wondered if he felt the parting of friendship, even though they had become the enemy.

“I’m not sure,” Peleg said quietly. “They will continue to wait for their gods to rescue them. It was blind luck that we found that island, and I can’t imagine it happening again for a long time.”

“I’m sure that other ships will eventually come by as trade is increased,” Serug said, hopefully. “After all, we
are
just the first.” He laughed. “Of course, they’re going to have to find some women if they have to wait much longer.”

“In three or four hundred years, they will probably all be gone. And their sacred
Rana’Kao
is going to explode someday, too, and the entire mountain will collapse into the sea.” He looked at Serug.

“Perhaps in a thousand years, a new band of travelers will arrive and find their statues and remains of their settlement. They’ll be as mystified as we were and probably craft hundreds of statues to mimic the ones Kupé made—with no clue as to their creator’s original purpose.”

Serug grinned. “Someday, that would make a great tourist attraction.”