Snakehead (26 page)

This made me uneasy. “Did you like that?”

“Yes, I did. But I won’t miss Haifa, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She sat up and gripped my shoulders, fiercely. “I only came to life when I met you.”

We might have wished the voyage could go on forever, except that we longed to get home, and be married properly. We had decided the wedding in Haifa didn’t count. We didn’t want those priests to have anything to do with something so important. We wouldn’t be married until we stood together, in the Sacred Enclosure in Seatown, with our friends around us. We talked a lot about that day, and about our friends, and less and less about the immense things we’d been part of, as the rainy days went by. The otherworld would never fade from our minds and hearts, but we had to deal with what lay ahead, and we were
anxious for our friends and family on Serifos. Had the king been content to leave Dicty’s people alone, once I was out of the way? We were afraid that was too much to hope for.

We reached Paros on a calm evening, and the captain said a fond goodbye. He was puzzled by two royal Phoenician passengers, traveling without a single attendant; but we’d brought him good luck. Not a breath of contrary wind, not so much as one white storm-horse cresting the waves. It was unheard of at this season! The Ocean God had smiled on us indeed…. It was dark when the
Panagia’s
boat delivered us to the dock. The Mother Temple of Paros Port was a blaze of lights: people were celebrating the new moon of the eleventh month. We’d left our baggage to be unloaded with the
Panagia
‘s cargo the following day; we were traveling light. I reached over my shoulder to touch Athini’s shield. I checked that the drawstring purse was still at my belt, along with the
harpe
. The winged sandals had disappeared overnight, when I was staying in the Men’s Palace.

“Still there?” murmured Andromeda.

I nodded.

We’d managed to pick up some news from Serifos on the last stages of our voyage, and it wasn’t good. We didn’t know what kind of reception committee might be waiting. There was no crowd to hide us on a rainy evening
at the start of winter. We wrapped ourselves in our cloaks, shadowing our faces: we didn’t want to be recognized. I knew of a taverna where we should find friends, and information we could trust. I looked from right to left, and something hit me like a rock in the midriff.

“Perseus! Perseus!”

It was Kefi.

Our mule boy saw that it was Andromeda with me, let go and grabbed her instead. “Kore! Kore! I thought you were dead! Dead like a rat! But Papa Dicty told me to meet every ship from the east and I did, and here you are!”

“Is the boss all right? What’s going on at home?”

But he wouldn’t say another word until he’d dragged us to a hole-in-the-wall food shop in a dark alley: just a couple of tables lit by one smoky lamp. A fat old woman sat knitting behind the counter. There was no one else in the place.

“What’s the matter with going to the Sea Urchin?” I asked.

The Sea Urchin was the taverna where we had contacts.

“Not safe!” cried Kefi, shuddering violently. “Not safe! Nowhere’s safe. The king knows you’re on your way.” He stared at us, wide-eyed. “Terrible things, terrible things are going on! We’re at war!”

Andromeda and I felt the grip of fate closing over us again.

* * *

Kefi told us that the boss, my mother and the rest of the household had been “all well enough” when he last saw them, four days before. But he broke down in tears when we pestered him with questions, so we couldn’t find out the details. He’d been sent to Paros to intercept us at the dock, he said, because the boss knew we would arrive here, and “bad Paros people” might deliver us to king Polydectes. The fat woman in the food shop, whom Kefi called Aunt Noussa, had been letting him sleep under a bench. She insisted on giving us bread and sausage, and a jug of watered wine. Then Kefi took us up the shore by paths through the dunes, for about a mile. Bozic the smuggler was waiting there with his caïque. He said he’d take us to Serifos, and try to put us ashore safely.

“Then I’m off. Got things to do. You understand, great lady, noble Perseus?”

I understood. Our secret ally, who’d been our lifeline through the truce, wasn’t going to risk his neck in open war. I didn’t blame him, but it wasn’t a hopeful sign.

The wind was with us. We sailed by Antiparos and Sifnos, keeping clear of any vessel we spotted. In the gray dawn, the lights of the High Place were like a bundle of stars, clearing the western horizon. Then we saw tiny pinpoints all over the holy hill, the watch fires of an army. Seatown waterfront was completely dark. It looked strange: there were so few masts in the harbor, and there seemed to be
gaps in the skyline I knew so well. Bozic, who was managing both the sail and the steering oar, changed tack. We signaled, and moved slowly across the mouth of the harbor bay against the wind, past the headland and across the mouths of the dark inlets. We made our signal light again, keeping a healthy distance. At last, we saw a light in reply. Someone was on the rocks at the mouth of the third inlet, sweeping a torch to and fro:
one, two
and a pause;
one, two
and a pause. It was the right response, agreed upon long ago. But who was wielding that torch? It was just light enough for us to see each other’s faces. Bozic looked at me, and shrugged.

“It’s the signal,” I said. “Go in, closer.”

Kefi flung himself into the bottom of the boat, and lay there whimpering. I crouched by Andromeda, ready to duck if I heard arrows, my hand on the
harpe
. The figure on the reef had quenched his torch, and was waving something like a white flag. I saw the splashes of red, blue, yellow….

“Honest colors,” breathed Andromeda.

It was Aten, wearing his customary white kilt and nothing else in spite of the cold, and not a sleek black hair out of place. Bozic brought the caïque alongside the rocks, silently. The sail lost the wind and fell loose. Andromeda stood up and uncovered her head. “Welcome back, Princess Andromeda,” said our imperturbable Egyptian, bowing to her gravely. “You too, Perseus.”

“What’s the news?” I demanded.

“Not good,” said Aten, folding the piece of weaving Andromeda had given to Anthe, and tucking it in his belt. “But not bad. Is Kefi with you?”

“I’m here! I’m here!” cried the mule boy. He scrambled onto the side and leapt. Andromeda and I followed with more care, and the caïque slipped backward. Its dun-colored sail and drab paint were soon invisible in the dawn mist.

“We have lookout points here on the headland and on West Hill,” said Aten. “We saw you, and a runner has been sent to the boss. Everyone is in the Enclosure. I’ll take you there; the men can spare me for an hour.”

“What happened to Seatown?”

“Too much for me to tell.” Aten’s breath hissed. He swooped on something that Kefi had picked up: a hollow wooden tube, like a flute with no stop holes.

“I’ll take that, Kefi.”

“What is it, Mr. Egyptian?” the mule boy asked nervously. “Is it magic?”

“No, it’s a weapon. Don’t touch the darts, they’re poisoned. And I wish you would remember I’m a Peruvian.”

On the headland we found Aten’s lookout team, hidden among the rocks. They greeted us with joy, but Aten quickly led us onward.

“It began as soon as you were gone, Perseus,” he said. “Trouble, just trouble at first. There were fights on the waterfront, and attacks on property: on my farm among other places. We knew what the king was up to; we handled
the incidents ourselves, as quietly as possible. But the king said the boss must accept High Place troops in Seatown, because of the unrest.”

“And the boss refused.”

“Of course. Then there was the hostage raid. But you’ll hear about that.”

We could see the whole of Seatown now, lying very still. It looked so small, so humble and helpless after the towers of Haifa. There was a pall of smoke over the gaps I’d noticed from the sea. Aten touched my shoulder and Andromeda’s, motioning us to get below the horizon. Kefi was already crouching low.

“Be careful to stay in cover until we reach the fence. They have archers, and a big siege catapult, maybe more than one. They’ve been bombarding the town with Greek fire.”

“Great Mother,” whispered Andromeda. “Are there many dead?”

Greek fire is made of oil and pitch, with some added ingredient to make it stick like glue. A bolus dunked in the stuff and set alight is deadly for the full range of a military catapult. It clings, and it burns just about anything. It is outlawed.

“Not many,” said Aten calmly. “And he has respected the sanctuary, so far.”

The Enclosure was right under the High Place, well protected by a shoulder of the hill, but the people were taking no chances. There was a team of men and women in
all kinds of makeshift armor out with buckets, drenching the fence. The morning-glory vines had withered, or been stripped clear. I looked up at the hillside, where the brambles had ripped me to bits after Polydectes’ party. Everything was brown and wintery now, except for the black swathes of fire. “I’ll leave you,” said Aten. “I have to get back. Tell Dicty all’s well enough, no sign of troops moving in the east.” Kefi ran to a man in armor: hardened leather with metal plates sewn onto the breast and shoulders, shin protectors and armguards. He came hurrying over, dragging off an antique helmet with a crest of moth-eaten horsehair. It was Palikari.

He hugged me, then Andromeda, tears standing in his eyes.

“It’s not as bad as it looks” was the first thing he said. Then he seemed lost for words, and just stared at us. “So the monster didn’t eat you, Andromeda?”

“Perseus saved me,” said Andromeda. “We’ll tell you everything, but it’ll wait. What’s wrong, Pali? Why are you looking like that?
Where’s Anthe?”

“She’s … she’s inside. Come on.”

The Enclosure was so crowded I thought the whole town was in there. Then I realized it was mainly old people, young mothers, little children and babies. I was shocked. My heart sank; it was worse than I’d imagined. The armed camp of Seatown, which had always been there under the skin of our calm daily life, had been reduced to a last, helpless remnant.

The boss was marshaling a bucket chain. He took off his round, hard cap, and beamed at us. “My dear young people, I’m so glad to see you safe. Well done, Kefi. Now, it is
not
as bad as it seems. We are the rearguard here. We’re waiting to evacuate the infirm. Our neighbor islands are not taking sides, but they’ve agreed to give the children and the old and sick a safe passage and temporary refuge.”

“We have an army, Perseus,” broke in Palikari. “I should have told you, first off. The villages are empty; our troops are in the hills. Some of the matriarchs have holed up in the mountain caves; they’ll be our supply posts. The rest are here.”

“Holy Mother intends to stay put,” said Dicty. “But I think now the Greek fire has appeared I’ll have to change her mind.”

He looked somber, despite his cheerful smile, and very weary; but he did not look beaten. I would never have imagined it, but in a strange way war-hating Papa Dicty seemed in his element. There was such a purposeful bustle going on. Every able-bodied man and woman had something to do, even the children: I saw the boss’s style in that. It wasn’t
all
that different from the taverna kitchen on a big night.

“Where is Anthe, Papa Dicty?” demanded Andromeda. “Where is lady Danae?”

“They’re in the hospital,” said the boss. “Your mother’s well, Perseus.”

“But
Anthe?
Is she all right?”

There was a silence, long enough to terrify us.

“Anthe was wounded,” said Pali. “We raided the High Place, and she was part of it. But she’s going to be all right.” He looked at the boss. “Isn’t she?”

Andromeda had set off at a run for the hospital building.

“I believe so,” said the boss. “I hope so. Let’s go and see her.”

Anthe was lying at the end of the long, dim ward, which felt warm after the cold morning outside. Braziers glowed at intervals, and the air was full of the acrid sickroom scent of burning herbs. My mother, her hair bound up in the Summer Queen scarf, knelt beside the bed, with a bowl of water and a sponge, wiping our wildcat’s face and hands. I could see bandages in the neck of Anthe’s shift. Her eyes were half open and her head moved from side to side, but she didn’t know me when I bent over her and said her name. Andromeda was on the other side of the bed, holding Anthe’s wrist.

“The pulse is fast and broken,” she muttered. “There’s a rash and the fever’s very high. Is it brain fever, my lady?”

“We think so,” said Moumi calmly. “But she’s past the worst.” Her tired face broke into a beautiful smile.

“Perseus, my son. Kore, my daughter. You came back!”

“The little white wild convolvulus …”
whispered Anthe, recognizing no one.

The Holy Sisters moved about the ward, dosing
patients, encouraging others or sitting quietly by some silent body for whom all the pain and fear was over.

“We had trouble in Seatown,” said the boss softly. “It began soon after you left, Aten and Pali will have told you. The king offered to place armed troops in the town. I declined. He offered terms. We refused them, and held by the truce. He then decided to take his own people hostage.”

“His own people?” I repeated. “Huh? You mean the people of Serifos?”

“No,” said Pali, without taking his eyes off Anthe. “The dancing girls, up at the High Place. Some of the boys too. He said they were working for the enemy. Some enemy he’d invented …
We
all knew that it was the king’s own men who’d been organizing the ‘unrest.’ He was going to kill them if the boss wouldn’t let the soldiers into Seatown. So we organized a raid. It was mainly the Yacht Club kids, and Aten, but I was in it, and Anthe. We had inside help. We broke into the High Place; we
almost
got the hostages out without raising the alarm. But it went wrong. Gliko was killed; Anthe took an arrow in the shoulder. It wasn’t dangerous; she was fine. Then she got this fever.”

“She isn’t going to die, Pali,” said my mother. “Yesterday I wasn’t sure; today I know she’ll live.” She set the bowl aside and stood up. “Well, Perseus?”