Aries Fire (10 page)

Seira looked up at Alexander. With the sun behind him the details of his face were in shadow and she could more keenly feel his presence. In her vision he had been by her side and in her heart. It seemed their lives existed without boundaries or walls made of flesh.

“I know you,” she said with full recognition.

He didn’t move, but she felt him change, as if he disappeared from her.

“Captain?”  Lem’s voice held fear.

Alexander knelt and studied her within inches of her face. He felt a brief moment of ultimate kinship with her and then ignored it.

“You’re head is bleeding,” he said.

They weren’t the words she wanted to hear. 

“Sit still and we’ll mend it,” he said.  “Hmm, it appears to have stopped, but I cannot seem to find the wound,” he said while probing her scalp.

“Stop that,” she slapped his hand. 

Why couldn’t he admit that he knew her, too?  That they had been lovers in some other time seemed suddenly all consuming and all at once insignificant.

“I’m uninjured.  Lem, help me to my feet.  Please.” 

Her hand flew into his face and waved with insistence. Lem lifted her easily.

“Thank you Lem. Please, a word in privacy with the Captain.  Please, before we dock,” the softness in her voice reassured Lem. He obeyed, bowed, and backed away enough to keep her in sight. 

“Alexander, I am well. Thank you.”

“I am half sighted at times,” she held Alexander’s attention.  “But now in this instance I have had a vision,” she began.

“But the blood,” he said.

“It happens.  I don’t know where it comes from.  Listen to me now, there will be a war.”

His eyes darted over her shoulder, his gaze averted from her. Something out at sea caught his attention.

“Whenever it happens, you must not be a part of it,” she said.

His mouth opened slowly and eyes widened before she could continue.

“Down!” he shouted and pushed her to the boards.

“What?  What is it?” 

His fingers motioned in some strange language, speaking to his first mate in silence.

“An armed Roman garrison. Port side. Stay down,” he whispered sternly. 

He left swiftly, silently.  She was amazed at his stealth. Alexander’s first mate approached her within seconds.

“Aanise, Ma’am, you must hide,” he blurted and turned from her.

“Where?  Where am I to hide?” she whispered.

She crouched and ran to catch up to him. He tore the lid from the wide fish barrel and stared at her.

She stood frozen and hissed, “I will not!”

He grabbed and lifted her, then smashed her into this barrel of stench. 

“BUT…”

Seira was crushed with the dead fish, her mouth still open in protest.  She lay in a dark tomb, buried waist deep amidst cold slime.  The stench was overwhelmingly repulsive.  She swallowed hard to repress the choke, but couldn’t.  She screamed. Coughed. Vomited.  Her stomach heaved and she gasped. She clawed and pounded at the lid but it would not budge.   

“Silence or I’ll kill you myself!” someone whispered through the wood and hit the barrel.  Seira suddenly froze. 

Oh, God of the Cosmos, I’ll die.  Help me. 

She gagged on the fumes, unable to breathe.

“I CA…”

Marching in unison shook the plank boards of the ship. The sound of the Roman guards threw her into panic. She held her breath to save her life.  Seira clawed her way into the stench to cover herself.  Frantically, silently, she attacked a mass of bodies and dug for shelter in Hades.

One side of her face pushed up against the wood. She saw light coming through a cleft in the barrel and moved her face toward it. She held her mouth to the crack and gasped for life. Where was Lem, Alexander, anybody?  She was trapped.  The glint of cold, dead luminescent eyes stared at her. All she could do was whimper.

Stop staring at me! 

Seira couldn’t hold it and retched again violently.  Her mess poured over the fish and out of the cleft.  Had the soldiers seen that or heard her?  An image of a dagger cutting through flesh shrieked through her. Was the dagger in Seira’s vision meant for her?  She was frantic.

Her eyes watered. Sour spit dripped from her mouth. She heard murmurs.  Roman babble. She gagged again, and didn’t think she could hold her stomach quiet.

Something careened into the barrel. She held her breath and held her hand over her mouth. Seira imagined herself small and invisible.  Short, sucking bursts of breath escaped through her fingers.

She tried to recite a calming chant, but couldn’t remember the words.  Frantic ripples of fear swept through her.  She relived her mother’s murder.

“Silver something.  Silver slime surrounds me. No, silver light surrounds me,” she whispered into her fingers.

“What’s this?  It smells of death,” said a Roman voice.

She heard a creaking sound above her head.  Someone pried off the lid.  It creaked again.  She closed her eyes as the lid landed on the deck and wobbled.  She was ready to accept her fate.  Light flooded her crypt. 

Seira heard Alexander’s voice but couldn’t understand the words. She pushed her body deeper into the sea of silver death, sliding her back to meet the bottom of the barrel.  She kept her hand in front of her mouth to make a space for air.

Outside the barrel, she heard feet rushing about.  She didn’t know if they were Roman or crewman’s feet. She longed to see Sirus’ ugly face.  Seira vowed to embrace Mahmoud as her savior should he appear.

Dead fish pressed against her closed eyes.  She prayed for release. Alexander and the soldier’s arguments blared as she gasped.

Alexander, I can’t breathe… please.

“Those fish are scheduled for delivery as we stand,” said Alexander.  “I cannot delay my business. The cargo is already half rotted,” he said.

“Move these barrels!” A Roman voice commanded.

Creaking and pounding over her head. The lid was returned. The voices faded.  She had to find that hole in the barrel if she was to stay alive.  Her hand groped for it through sticky, slimy fish.  She found it and pulled herself toward it.  With the cleft nearby, her left eye could see greaves.  A low ranking legionnaire walked away. She kissed that cleft with her mouth and sucked in the air.  A splinter of wood stabbed her upper lip. The feeling of relief soon became a vile sickness in the pit of her stomach.  Seira retched again.

“Out,” she whispered.  “Please.  Ouuut,” she called softly through the crack in the wood. 

Seira heard the men’s voices, although not clearly.  They spoke in unison.  In a flash, the barrel was being tilted.  The men moved her and the stinking fish, but to where?

“Let me out!” she cried. 

Someone banged hard on the wood, near the sound of her voice.  The barrel tilted further back. She sank deeper into the fish and away from her air hole.  Seira tried to kick her legs upward, but the fish slid in every direction, hindering her efforts to find a secure position.

“Out I sa…”

Fins slid into her mouth. Scales covered her tongue and made her gag. She spat again and again.

By the stars, is this my escape?

She instantly thought of her belongings, her journal, and her pin.

My new shoes! 

“Alexander!”

She didn’t care who heard her.  She was pinned under the fish. Her trembling hand kept hold of the cleft. She couldn’t lose her only chance of survival.

It seemed as if hours passed when a final thud jarred her body against the side of the barrel. Everything stopped and she pressed her lips onto the wood with eyes closed, not knowing what to expect next.  She heard more arguing, then talking, then laughter.  The men’s voices soon faded.

“Hello?”  she called faintly.  “Alexander?” 

She could barely rap on the barrel under the weight of the fish.  Seira heard muffled sounds and silently begged to be exhumed. The air ran out.

“Get off of me,” she pleaded. 

She focused harder than ever before and squirmed up through them.  She screamed from panic, afraid she would be left to die like this.  Entombed like the fate of so many servants who died with their royal masters.

She quickly contained herself.  There wasn’t much air and she couldn’t give in to fear. The weight and stench of the fish made it hard to move. She was dizzy. Seira became angry and tried to kick her way out of the fish but that used too much air. She closed her eyes and composed herself.

Silver light of protection, she canted silently, repeatedly.  Slowly, her energies pooled together. She pushed the fear away and felt stronger.

“Silver light of protection surrounds me, strengthens me,” she said and tore upward, her hands pushing against the lid.

Without warning, she heard a familiar tear in the wood.  There was a loud crack and the lid wrenched off.  Sunlight streamed in, as she stood upright through the mass of bodies.

“I will to will Thy Will.  OUT!” she chanted aloud.

Seira stood in a stupor and looked down at her body.  She was covered in scales.  A market vendor called out in shock at her appearance, the lid still in his hand.  She stared at him. 

She heard a loud, frantic scream.  The sound shattered the air, an amplified voice, surrounded by increased silence.  It was Seira.  She couldn’t stop shrieking. It poured from her body like a demon released from Hades.  She had been trapped and almost died. Someone needed to know.

The vendor pulled back and cowered. He held up the lid as if it could shield him from her jarring screams.

“Hah..hah..ah.”

Breaths heaved in short bursts. The sound withered from her lips. She leaned back, light-headed, and fell out of the barrel.  It took a minute to regain her bearings.  On her hands and knees, she gave a final hack and spit up more fish scales.  Seira shook her head and finally jumped up and paced in a circle like a confused, wild animal freed from a cage. She had no idea where she was.

Her head cocked to and fro like a bird in a staccato mating dance. She was in a marketplace, surrounded by wide-eyed, brown-skinned foreigners who converged on her like the dead fish.

Her head spun.  Frantic eyes looked for a place to run. She attacked the way in front of her and knocked over a pottery stand. The potter exploded in a strange language. His voice reverberated like the gong of a tower bell, a sound that could summon ancestors in a fury. Seira tripped, then scrambled to her feet. She pushed her way through the horde. Something sharp hit her back and arms. Smashing sounds all around.  She jerked and arched her back in pain. Blood covered her arm.  The potter had thrown shards of broken wares.  The sight of her blood ignited a fanatical, blind rage. 

Before Seira knew what happened, there were hands everywhere, dislodging her from the potter. His face scratched, his eye already swollen from her blows.

“Get off of me,” she huffed.

She slapped every hand that dared to touch her.  Another loud sound boomed. 

Lightening storm? Rain on the rooftops? she thought.

She twisted her neck and quickly glanced over her shoulder.  A Roman Legion in the distance trotted in unison toward her.  The people in the marketplace talked at her simultaneously.  Seira was confused but knew that she had no time to make more enemies.  She shoved and elbowed her way through the crowd.

“MOVE!” 

Seira bumped into everyone and lost her bearing.  Where was the ship?  Which way should she go?  The metallic clapping of soldier’s armor was all she heard.  It came at her from every direction.  A dog barked at her heels. She bent down and pushed him away. One of her shoes was missing. There was no time to retrieve it.  Seira ran and kept running. The dog nipped at her bare heel and slowed her down. 

Seira stooped near a neatly stoned wall and hid beneath a hanging tapestry. The mutt snarled playfully.  Instinctively, she tore part of her tunic to dress the wound on her arm.  The dog licked the blood from her arm and wagged his tail.  She couldn’t help but laugh, relieved. She grabbed and petted the pup. One moment to calm gave relief. She had to think.

Seira put the dog down and rose to her feet.  He sat crookedly on his hind legs and lifted a leg to scratch behind his ear. She was confident that the soldiers weren’t looking for her. 

They don’t know I was aboard the Ishtar, did they?  Why would they look for me here? 

Seira inhaled and relaxed a bit more, but kept her guard up in case she was wrong about the soldiers. Seira took off her shoe and shoved it into her belt. She strolled casually to remain inconspicuous.  Her nervous glances convinced her that soldiers were not rallying to ambush.

Rows of clay huts lined the end of the marketplace.  Even with the commotion behind her, her heart raced as she silently celebrated her escape.  She was free.

“Ha-lay, halay,” said a woman’s voice.

Someone suddenly grabbed Seira’s hair, snapping her head back.

“Oww. Stop that,” she said in shock.

Seira looked down to see an old woman no taller than a child. She spoke to her as she pulled her along by her hair.

“Halay, halay.  Come. Notra tehya. You come,” she said, as she slapped Seira’s ass with her tiny, wrinkled, strong hand.

“HAZAAD!” Lem cried to Alexander.  “I must find her. Theon will have me condemned to death.”

He paced the length of the plank and back again and looked toward the city.

“Give me some of your men!” Lem said.

He moved out of the way of crew who were lifting amphoras filled with oil and olives.

“Why did you remove her from this ship?  I demand to know,” he lumbered toward the captain with clenched fists.

The first mate calmly stepped in front of Lem, his hand sword ready.

“Lem.  Calm yourself. Listen,” began Alexander.

Lem’s fingers wrenched through his knotted hair. His eyes were wild.

“Calm?”  he blurted.

Lem suddenly lunged at Mahmoud, the first mate.  He picked him up with ease and tossed him over a crate filled with apples. Three crewmen ran toward Lem, swords drawn, apples rolling.

“Stop!” Alexander ordered, raising his hand.

The crewman froze and obeyed their captain.  Alexander nodded at his first mate who returned his sword to its sheath, crossed his arms, and stayed ready for action. Alexander turned toward Lem.