Voyage of the Snake Lady (16 page)

Chapter Thirty
The
Castor and Pollux

T
HERE WAS NO
time for them to ask more questions, for Myrina had seen the first signs of movement aboard the
Castor and Pollux
. She stood up and firmly spoke the order to ‘follow’ into Big Chief’s ear:
“Zeygut! Zeygut!”
Then she marched down the hillside, her bow strung ready on her shoulder, a full quiver of arrows strapped to her thigh. The girls and horses followed obediently at her heels.

As they got closer, Myrina was surprised at the lack of activity aboard. When they eventually stood on the quayside, looking down on the two decks, they understood that what they’d seen from the hillside was just two young oarsmen lowering a bucket over the side into the sea. Now they hauled the bucket up and began to splash water over their bleary eyes. Other oarsmen lay about the deck snoring as though they’d supped a great deal of wine the previous night. Myrina’s heart sank at the sight of them. This was not going to be easy, but there was no other way that she could think of.

“Hey there!” she shouted. “Get me your captain!”

“Who asks?” one of the young men replied, eyeing her and the girls, unimpressed.

“One who brings a message from your master!”

The two men looked at each other and laughed. “Our master? Our master has deserted us and anyway—he’s a madman!”

“He’s a dead madman!” The other grinned at his own wit. “We can’t take orders from him.”

“Who do you take orders from?” Myrina bellowed.

“Not from women!” the bigger sailor sneered, making an obscene hand gesture toward them.

He had gone too far.

“So it has to be done the hard way!” Myrina spoke with quiet anger. She slipped the bow from her shoulder and sent an arrow whizzing down to pierce right through the offending hand.

“Aagh! Curse and blast the bitch,” the sailor yelled, clutching his wounded hand frantically, while the other man pulled him back behind the mast, suddenly white- faced and frightened.

“Fetch me your captain!” Myrina ordered.

The smaller sailor turned to obey, but a tousle-haired fellow had already appeared beside him, yawning and scratching his beard. “Who wants me?” he growled. “What time of day . . . ?” He stopped, surprised to see a young woman and three girls staring angrily down at him, all armed with bows; three fine Sinta horses, ears pricked, waiting behind them. “And who . . . ?” he murmured.

“I am Myrina the Moon Rider!”

“Moon Rider!” He laughed. “The ones they call Amazon? No wonder Troy fell if this was all they had to defend them!”

Fuming, Myrina fitted another arrow to her bow; there wasn’t time for this. “Are you the captain of this ship?”

“I’m the captain—so what!”

“Watch her!” the smaller sailor cried. “Those arrows are double barbed. See what she has done to Phestus!”

The captain looked quickly back at her with grudging respect.

“Let me come aboard then.” She still threatened him with her bow. “I have a message from your master Prince Orestes.”

The man was impressed that at least she knew the name. Most of the crew were awake now and scrambling to their feet.

“Come aboard, my lady!” He bowed with mock courtesy, indicating a rope that they could climb down.

Myrina lowered her bow and replaced the arrow in her quiver. She swung down the rope and leaped lightly aboard. “There is no time to be lost,” she told him at once. “You must set your oarsmen in place and unfurl the sail while the wind blows in your favor. Your master has need of you and will join you to the west, outside the deep cut in the cliffs that is the entrance to Tauris harbor.”

The girls watched tensely from the quayside as seamen gathered about Myrina, cursing and grumpy that their sleep had been so rudely disturbed.

“What do you say?” the captain asked his crew, still grinning as though this was a joke. “Do you wish to row to Tauris in search of the lunatic prince?”

There were more foul jokes and nasty laughter. Myrina gritted her teeth—this was not going well. She looked up to see that the sun had risen from the sea and had now moved above the horizon. She was too close to draw her bow and send an arrow shooting into the captain’s heart, so she ducked lightly forward and snatched the short sword that dangled from his belt. Before he had realized what she was doing, she had it at his throat.

“What the . . . !” He was at last alert to danger and fully awake. One of his crew threw him a sword, but as the rest of his men ran to get their weapons, Phoebe bellowed, “Hold! First man to move gets an arrow in his throat!”

Both she and Tamsin had an arrow nocked and ready and a good vantage spot up on the quayside. Katya had taken the short meat knife from her belt and held it ready to throw. Even though the girls were so young, the sailors were wary; the man with an arrow in his hand still groaned and struggled to pull it out.

“Huh!” The captain was angry now. “Stay back, men. I don’t need you to help me fight women!”

He swung his weapon up, skillfully knocking Myrina’s stolen sword away from his throat.

“Ha!” He smiled again.

“That’s it!” his crew shouted. “Kill the bitch!”

Myrina recovered and grasped the sword again. She and the captain circled each other, their faces grim. Shouts of encouragement came from all around; but still wary of the arrows that might fly down on them, the crew did not interfere. Rather they settled themselves to enjoy a bit of sport.

Myrina bit her lip. What was she doing? The sword had never been her weapon, and her wounded arm was throbbing painfully inside the leather strap. If only she had the warrior skills of Penthesilea, she’d soon polish him off! But with the memory of her brave friend came a cheering flow of warm courage and strength. “Penthesilea is with me,” she told herself.

She took the sword in both hands and swung it fast in a neat figure-of-eight, as though it was naught but a light dancing stick. The unexpected movement sent the captain lurching to the side while Myrina swished the point at his ribs and managed to slice him.

A surprised groan came from the crew.

“Agree to my orders and the fight is over,” Myrina offered, holding back for just a moment.

The captain gave no reply, but clutched at his side, staring amazed at the blood that oozed out between his fingers.

Myrina raised her sword again, but the captain moved quickly now and grabbed her arm where the leather binding covered her bandaged wound. Myrina could not help but grimace at the pain it caused.

“What is this?” the man bellowed. “Fresh blood?”

Myrina saw with dismay that blood trickled down from her own reopened wound.

“What madwoman fights with a wounded arm?” the captain demanded. Reaching forward he ripped the leather away, revealing Myrina’s blood-soaked bandage.

“Leave me be,” she warned.

He looked at the bloody wound, then a puzzled expression came to him. When he spoke again his words were softer and more respectful. “Let us not fight, you and I! What are we fighting for?”

But Myrina still struggled to grasp her sword. “Will you muster your crew and set sail for Tauris?”

He let go of her arm and scratched his head. “Very well,” he agreed at last. “It seems I must.”

Myrina lowered her sword slowly. “Give the order then.”

“All hands!” he shouted, still gasping for breath. “To the oars!”

The men looked surprised, but they obeyed, reluctantly moving to the thwarts. The captain shook his head at the mess of blood that dripped down his side.

“I’m as mad as my master,” he muttered.

Myrina turned to Phoebe, pointing up at Big Chief. “Fetch my healing bundle!” she cried.

The girls had already lowered their bows, relieved that the fight was over. Now all three slipped down the rope ladder onto the deck, their arms full of baggage. The captain sat down on the lower rung of the ladder that led to the afterdeck, looking more surprised than ever as Myrina calmly searched in her bundles. Having found what she wanted, she began to pull away his clothing, pinching the wound together and applying ointment to his cut.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I will see to myself once we are under way,” she snapped.

Tamsin held out bandages, but she bared her teeth at the captain. “If you had hurt my mother, I’d have killed you myself.”

The man could not help but smile at such fierceness from one so young. Phoebe bent to help fashion a pad of healing herbs that Myrina strapped about his chest. Katya watched it all wide-eyed and quiet; her new friends were proving to be more ruthless and capable than she’d ever realized.

The captain sat back, rubbing his eyes in astonishment. “I have never before been stabbed, then patched up by the same one!” he murmured.

“Ha!” Myrina almost laughed. “Who better? For a Moon Rider the first lesson in fighting is how to stanch wounds. See what our young tiger can do!”

They both turned to watch Phoebe, who had gone unbidden to Phestus, the man with the arrow stuck through his hand. She neatly snapped off the flight close to the wound, then took hold of the double barb that had pierced right through the hand. With a movement that was both strong and swift, she pulled the narrow shaft right through.

The man gave a sharp cry and fainted, but he quickly came to again to find that his young helper had stopped the flow of blood and was now neatly bandaging his hand.

The captain watched it all, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “I think I am still asleep and dreaming,” he murmured.

“You are not asleep!” Myrina hauled him roughly to his feet. “And you need all your wits about you! What is your name?”

“Seris . . . madam! Captain Seris!” He bowed, courteous at last.

“Well, Seris—if you are any kind of a sea captain, get us to Tauris harbor as fast as you can!”

Chapter Thirty-One
Swim for Your Lives

A
S THE SHIP
moved away from the quayside, Phoebe came to help Myrina dress her own freshly bleeding wound, but then they both noticed Tamsin’s small chin trembling as she held back tears.

“What is it?” Myrina asked.

“The horses!” Tamsin whispered.

Big Chief snorted loudly on the quayside, his ears set back in distress. Snowboots stamped her hooves, and Sandmane snaked her head in anxiety as the oars dipped in unison and the great ship moved away. Myrina had a moment of panic. How could she have forgotten the horses? Though the galley was large enough to find room for the beasts aboard, she dared not lose more time by going back for them. She stumbled over to the gunwales and shouted like a fisherwoman, cupping her mouth with bloody hands, putting every last drop of strength into her lungs. “
Zeygut! Zeygut!”
she cried. “Follow!”

Big Chief tossed his head and snorted again. How could he follow a ship setting out to sea?

“
Zeygut!”
Myrina shouted again, waving her arm toward the high cliffs.

Tamsin clapped her hand to her mouth to cover her distress, but at last, as the crew raised the brail sail to catch the wind, Big Chief turned away from the water and began to lead the two mares back up the steep cliffs that soared away toward the west.

Tamsin and Phoebe watched them anxiously from the deck as the sun rose steadily to its zenith. The
Castor and Pollux
sailed westward up the coast, while the dark silhouettes of the horses could be seen in the distance, keeping a steady pace, the ship forever in their sights.

Once under way Captain Seris began to take charge of his crew with enthusiasm. He marched up and down the length of the ship, groaning a little as his side twinged with pain and snapping at anyone who did not keep good time. Soon he had the ship skimming over the waves, and Myrina’s spirits rose.

“Well . . . my fine Amazon,” Seris asked her at last, “are you going to tell me what we are to do when we get to Tauris?”

Myrina was still half annoyed by his manner, but she knew that quarreling further with him would only slow them down again so she answered him back in kind.

“Well, my fine captain”—she eyed him with a touch of humor—“you are going to anchor out here in the sea, close to Tauris harbor, and send one of your small boats in through the narrow cut with a crew of brave fellows to rescue your master and his friend!”

“Just one small boat? That will do? We believed the Taurians had sacrificed Orestes to their fierce goddess! Will they give him up to us without a struggle? Will one small boatload be enough to batter down the walls of King Thoas’s jail?”

Myrina made a wry face; she knew that his questions were far from serious, but they brought to the surface her own real doubts. She wasn’t sure about her plan but it was the best she could think up, so they must make it work.

“We will need two boats,” she corrected herself. “Orestes will be there bathing in the shallow water and his sister—Iphigenia—will release him. Then we—”

“What!” Captain Seris cut in, giving her his full attention. “Iphigenia! You cannot mean . . . ?”

Myrina turned to him with a long, hard look. She was reluctant to put her trust in him, but without it they would have little chance of success. “Yes,” she said quietly. “His very own sister.”

Now the man stared at her with renewed respect, giving a low whistle, all trace of humor gone. “Tell me how.”

So as the ship rose and fell, cutting along the coast of the Inhospitable Sea, Myrina explained as much as she could. Seris listened, shaking his head with amazement, and she saw that a touch of excitement gleamed in his eye. Was his appetite for adventure returning?

“Well?” At last she paused in her telling. “Can we do it, do you think?”

Seris grinned wolfishly. “We will do it or die trying!” he told her.

Now Myrina laughed. “I hope it will not come to that.”

As the ship sailed on, Tamsin kept her worried gaze fixed on the distant movement of the horses, but as they arrived at the outer entrance to Tauris harbor the beasts could still be seen, looking down on them from the high cliffs close to where the temple was situated. Myrina went to speak to the girls.

“I want to know that you are both safe aboard the
Castor and Pollux
; as soon as I have Iphigenia free we will meet again in the Bay of Yalushta.”

“And then will we ride back to find the Moon Riders?” Phoebe spoke with longing.

“Yes, we will.”

“And will Iphigenia ride with us?” Tamsin asked.

Myrina hesitated and then sighed. “I think she may choose to go with her brother to Athens.”

“And not with us?” Tamsin found it hard.

“But we will know that she is safe and free.” Myrina tried to comfort them although her own heart was heavy at the thought of losing Iphigenia yet again.

“You will make sure Snowboots and Sandmane are safe?” Tamsin looked at her mother solemnly.

“I will do my best.” Myrina was unwilling to make more promises that she was not sure she could keep. “Now, Katya”—she touched the older girl’s arm—“you and I have much to do and to talk about. I believe we will see your grandmother safe and content, but you are going to have to be brave.”

In the center of Tauris a crowd was gathering as the sun began to sink in the west. News had flown around the town that Hepsuash was angry. The people came out into the streets, dressed in their best, ready for the sacrifice, but the gossip was all about the extraordinary things that had happened last night.

“The guards are saying that the old priestess, Nonya, was discovered in the temple trying to murder Hepsuash!” one old woman whispered to her daughter.

“No! How could she get in there?”

“Dark powers . . .” Her friend gave a sharp nod. “She always did possess dark powers! That’s why we call her witch!”

“Well . . . they say Thoas is furious,” the old one whispered. “He has thrown his captain of the guard into jail and put Ledus in charge! He says that his warriors are as stupid as beasts, so they might as well have the ostler lead them!”

Soon a new rumor swept through the town—that Hepsuash was insisting that the two Chosen Ones be taken down to the beach and purified in the sea.

“She vows that if she must perform a sacrifice she will do it her way.”

“Both the Chosen Ones and the sacred statue of Artemis must be washed in the sea.”

Gradually, as the word spread, people began to head for the small beach by the harbor instead of the temple on the hill. An atmosphere of excitement grew at the news of this impromptu ceremony, and though there had been little time to prepare for it, the townsfolk came down to the water’s edge, carrying wreaths of flowers.

The only ones who were not enthusiastic were Thoas and Nonya. The old priestess glared around her furiously as she was led down to the sea in chains. The crowd murmured that Hepsuash intended to drown her as punishment.

“Serve her right!”

“Drowning’s too good for her!”

“Look—here they come!”

The king rode in procession down to the harbor, following Hepsuash, his face glum. Somehow he felt that he’d been tricked, though he couldn’t be sure exactly how or why. How could Hepsuash, whom he’d loved for her peace and gentleness, suddenly make up her mind to waste the two lives that she’d once so stalwartly defended? This was not the outcome he’d wished for when he insisted that the sacrifice should go ahead.

Nonya’s eyes never left the small figure of Hepsuash, who rode on Moonbeam, her face impassive.

When they reached the beach, Iphigenia dismounted and ordered the two young men into the sea, their hands still tied with golden ropes; two slaves who carried the figurehead statue of Artemis received the same command.

“This must be purified, too.”

It was only when she followed them into the water that she allowed herself a glimpse in the direction of the narrow cut in the cliffs that formed the harbor entrance. “Will they come in time?” she murmured.

As the people watched, Iphigenia waded into the sea with the Chosen Ones carrying a small pitcher made of gold. “Deeper!” she ordered.

Farther and farther out they went, while the Taurians watched fascinated by the new ceremony that Hepsuash had invented. Her fine priestess’s robes were soaked but she ignored the water until it almost reached her shoulders. Orestes and Pylades followed obediently until the water rose well above their waists. Iphigenia began to scoop up pitchers full of seawater and pour them over the heads and shoulders of the two young victims, whispering to them all the time, as though it were some religious chant. The crowd was hushed and respectful. What would Hepsuash do next?

At last Iphigenia glanced toward the narrow cut and saw what she wished to see. Before anyone could tell what was happening, she had brought the sharp sacrificial knife from the pouch at her waist and sliced through the golden bonds of the intended victims.

“Swim,” she told them. “Swim for your lives!”

The Chosen Ones were ready for this command. They launched themselves in the direction of an oncoming boat, gliding fast through the water to safety.

“What is happening?”

“Where are they going!”

“Ah! Two boats are coming!”

“What is this?”

Shock and surprise at what had happened took a moment or two to sink in, but then the crowd began to stir, shouting at each other. Thoas looked up from his gloomy thoughts and quickly knew why he’d sensed deceit.

“Hepsuash!” he growled. “What have you done?”

The two young men swam on toward the boats, but Iphigenia turned her back on them to face the anger of King Thoas and his people.