Tara rowed every time I rowed. Well, as I say, that had positive benefits, but I realized that she would not stop until I stopped, and her arms and shoulders were strong — but not as strong as mine.
The second day, when we put our clothes back on — it was high summer, and I rowed naked — Tara pulled me by the arm. ‘Did she row as well as I?’ she asked.
‘Row?’ I asked. ‘Who?’
‘Lydia!’ she spat. ‘Did she row?’
Uh-oh.
Fourth day at sea, and the coast of Iberia, which had been like the broken teeth of an old man to our south, suddenly vanished. I turned from easterly to full south, and found the coast again after two panicked hours of raising and lowering sail. We landed at a headland and spent a fruitless day prowling what proved to be a deep bay, but eventually we were rewarded with an Iberian fishing port which had three things we needed — men who spoke Keltoi, fresh water and hatred for the Phoenicians who were, it turned out, just across the bay at Elvina, a day’s row away. The Phoenicians and their local Iberian allies preyed relentlessly on Centrona, as our new friends called their village.
We got water. We traded copper for silver — they mined silver in the hills. And we got expert sailing advice from the local fishermen, who offered to show us the Phoenician port. I took two locals aboard who spoke Keltoi, and we rowed at their direction, coming up on the Phoenician post with the sun behind us, so we were invisible, or so we hoped.
If it was a trade post, it was a very small one. There was what had to be a warehouse — the largest building, all heavy wooden piles and bark walls, and a slave pen — I knew what that was. Twenty huts, a single stone tower and a lighthouse.
And a warship drawn up on the beach.
Sittonax was tired of interpreting, and I was beginning to get the hang of the local Keltoi tongue and Tara was even better, so I talked to the fishermen through her.
‘How many soldiers?’ I asked.
Let’s just say it took us some time to define what I meant by soldier.
In the end we agreed that I meant armed men.
‘Twenty,’ he answered. ‘And more come in the ships.’
We crept north and west to stay out of sight, and then went ashore on the opposite side of the headland from the lighthouse, in case it was manned, and made our way up a long ridge that dominated the settlement.
It was a long time since I’d done all these things. But let me tell you, friends, it came back like the feel of a good sword in your hand.
We spent the day high on the ridge, with a woven screen of brush in front of us — me, Tara, Sittonax and two fishermen, as well as Aeneas and Alexandros, my two most reliable marines.
The warship on the beach was being repaired. I was pretty sure she was the trireme we’d damaged off the Pillars of Heracles, because her starboard cathead was a mess and there were injured men in the slave pen.
And the rowers were either slaves, or men treated as slaves.
‘We can take them now,’ I insisted to Sittonax.
He shrugged. ‘Fine,’ he said. But despite his bored face, he quivered with excitement.
Tara’s eyes sparkled.
‘Send to the ship and get everyone and have them arm,’ I said.
Tara made a moue. ‘What do you need them for?’ she asked. ‘Go and challenge their leader to single combat!’
Keltoi.
I grinned. ‘I have my own ways,’ I said.
We struck when the sun set, but the sky was still light. Working people would have been in bed.
I went straight for the tower. I had the marines and Sittonax and Tara, who had weapons and seemed to know how to use them. The eight of us would, I hoped, be enough.
Seckla led the oarsmen to open the slave pens and cow its occupants. Seckla had been a slave — I reckoned he’d be able to tell who might make a good ally among them.
Dogs barked and men shouted, and then I was up the ladder and in through the second-storey door to the stone tower. There was a man inside.
I killed him.
It had been some time. But the motions weren’t unfamiliar, and neither were the smells.
I held the door for about twenty heartbeats, and then Alexandros was next to me, and then we were among them. I expect about half of them got to weapons before the real killing started, but they had neither armour nor shields, and their bedmates helped us a great deal. Girls — and boys — pinned the ankles of men, or trapped their hands, or simply kicked them from behind.
All told, it didn’t take long. We slaughtered the guards and stormed the tower. There was a family living on the top floor — the only actual Phoenicians in the whole complex. I’m proud to say that we took them prisoner. The Keltoi don’t rape, by and large, and Tara — whose right arm was covered in blood to the elbow — took the women and turned towards Seckla, who grinned and saluted her.
And that was that. The curly-bearded overseer’s life wouldn’t have been worth a brass obol had I let go of him, but he knew the mathematika of his situation the moment I took him, and he babbled out where the ship’s crew was and his store of silver.
‘Six marines! And the trireme’s deck crew!’ I shouted to my men.
‘Follow me!’
But sometimes, the gods smile. I’d missed them sneaking in — they’d been quartered in a barn beyond the slave pens, and the trireme’s helmsman had a house by the huts, but when Seckla freed the slaves — well, they tore the helmsman limb from limb. Which wasn’t what I’d have wanted. A man who really knew these waters would have been a priceless asset.
Otherwise, it was all easy.
I sent Seckla to fetch Lydia around the point. We’d exterminated the opposition, and we didn’t have to hurry.
We examined the stores of the little post. They were ample. The Phoenicians collected taxes from the whole district, even while taking their people as slaves. I suspect we’d have been quite popular if we’d stayed, but on the other hand, it was always possible the locals would see us as more of the same.
Which, of course, we were.
Slaves — African slaves — told Seckla that another ship had come in with the trireme on the beach and then sailed away. That’s the only reason we missed a huge consignment of silver.
You can’t waste curses on these things. We’d stormed the place with a boat’s crew, and the worst injury was Giannis, the youngest of my herdsmen, who managed to lose the chape from his scabbard. In the attack, the point of his long knife rammed through the top of his thighs as he ran, opening truly horrible-looking wounds. No, I’m not making this up. We all teased him about it, and he took our teasing the way young men who want to be heroes react.
Good fun, really.
My crew were… blooded. There’s no other way to put it. They killed together, and they were victorious together, and we had a small stack of silver bars and some tin that they all knew they’d share — together.
It all came back to me so easily. Kill the men. Take the women. Sell the cargo. Build morale in the crew. Train them to fight. Kill, and don’t be killed.
Hardly worth the telling, really.
At any rate, we burned the slave pens and cooked pigs in the embers. The slaves liked that. Tara’s admiration was candid. I liked that.
In the morning, I looked over the trireme. Her starboard cathead was smashed to splinters, and needed professional help. I remember standing there with two of my fishermen and Alexandros and Seckla. Seckla was a craftsman — the kind of man who’s never happy unless he’s working. He pushed and pulled and shook his head.
I agreed. I wanted that ship, but she was too damaged to use.
So I turned to my friends, the fishermen. ‘Tell me about the weather the next four days.’
They prevaricated. But eventually, the older one admitted that it was unusually fine, even for summer.
Seckla glared at me. ‘You can’t be thinking we can tow this thing?’
Many things in my life have represented gifts from the gods. Briseis, despite the many ugly turns she did me — she drove me to heroism like a farmer drives an ox to work. My father’s decision to send me to the old priest, Calchus, for training.