Now Lyson is indeed with me, though he sleeps. Only I am left awake, and the black man, and the sentries Hypereides has set around us and the ships. A moment ago, a lovely young woman left the largest ship, and seeing that I saw her, halted to speak with me. I asked who she was.

She smiled at that. "Why, Latro, my name's been on your lips half the day. Would you like to see me fatter, with red hair? I can do that, if you wish."

"No," I told her. "You are so much more lovely than your picture on the sail."

Her smile faded. "Yet plain girls are luckier. Ask your little Io."

I did not understand her, and I believe she knew it; yet she did not explain. "I only stopped to tell you I am going to the Great Mother," she said. "I was her priestess once; and though I was taken from her long ago, it may still mean something to her, if only a little. Because you've loved my beauty today, I'll ask her to be kind to you."

"Is she merciful?" I asked, remembering what the tall lord of death had said.

Europa shook her head. "Sometimes she is kind," she told me. "But we are none of us merciful."

She has walked into the ridge, which opened a door for her. There is another woman on the ship now. I see her pace the deck in the moonlight, as if deep in thought. She wears a helmet with a high crest, like Hypereides's, and her shield writhes with serpents.

Her face recalls to me the face of Oior, Oior's face not as I saw it at any other time, but as I saw it when I looked back upon leaving him and saw him bent over the dead bowman. When I had met him on the beach and when we had talked at the top of this narrow ridge of land, his sun-browned face had been as open as the faces of the sailors, though without their vivacity and native cunning, a face as strong and as simple as the face of a charger or a bullock. It was a face much like my own, I think, and I liked him better for it.

And yet when I turned back to look at him as I descended the slope, it had changed utterly, though all its features were the same. It had become the face of a scholar of the worst kind, of the sort of man who has studied many things hidden from common men and grown wise and corrupt. He smiled to see the dead bowman, and he stroked the livid cheek as a mother strokes her child.

I must remember that.

CHAPTER XII-The Goddess of Love

The Lady of the Doves once blessed this place. Her statue was thrown down by the barbarians and both its hands broken off. When we came, the black man and I set it upon its base again-an act of piety, so says Pindaros, that must surely win us her favor. Though her hands lie at her feet with her doves still perched on their fingers, she is a most lovely goddess.

But there are a great many earlier things I wish to record here while I still remember them.

We came into the Bay of Peace about midmorning, I believe, though that is lost in the mist. The first thing I can recall clearly from this day is seeing the huts stretching far up the hillsides of Peace, many unroofed.

It was on that island, so Hypereides told me, that the poor of his city found refuge when the Great King's army came, and where they remained for the most part even after the Battle of Peace, for fear it might come again. Now that a decisive victory has been won on land, they are abandoning their huts and returning to the city.

There are three bays on the east coast of the island, and the city of Peace is on the southernmost. The richest families that came to Peace are there, having paid heavily for their lodgings. We put in at the middle bay, Hypereides hoping, as he said, to ferry some poorer folk back.

"Besides," he told me, "this is where we were before the battle. The families of a lot of my men are here, and other people who helped us out in various ways."

Pindaros, who was listening to Hypereides with me, put in, "You were wounded in the battle that freed them to go home, Latro. But since you were on the wrong side, you'd better not tell anybody that."

"And you'd better not go ashore at all," Hypereides told him. "Once they hear that Cowland tongue of yours, they're apt to stone you. Didn't you fight, too? You can't be much more than forty, and you look able enough."

Pindaros grinned at him. "I'm thirty-nine, Hypereides-the best time of a man's life, as I'm sure you remember. But as for fighting, you know what Archilichos wrote:

"Some lucky lout has got my noble shield. I had to run, and dropped it on the way; So 'tis with us who fly the reeking field. Who cares? Tomorrow's loot is what I lost today."

Hypereides shook his finger at him. "You're going to get yourself in trouble, poet. There are many in the city who won't honor your supple mouth. Or tolerate it, either."

"But if I should get into trouble, good master, why, you're in trouble too. So why don't you free me? Then in the next war you may be my prisoner instead of I yours. I'll treat you royally, I swear."

We were under oar already, for the wind was in the southwest and the strait runs due south; thus it was easy to bring all three ships into the wind to enter the bay. By that time I could see the crowd on shore, and the kybernetes came forward to suggest we stow our mast and sail.

Hypereides wet a finger and held it up, "There's not much of a blow. Don't you think it might swing north later?"

The kybernetes shrugged. "I've seen it happen, sir. I wouldn't count on it."

"Neither would I, but let's not count it out, either. Besides, these fellows should welcome the chance to sweat a bit and show their wives how hard they're working."

"There's something in that. But if I were you, Hypereides, I'd put a couple of soldiers at the gangplank. Otherwise you'll get enough women on board to capsize her."

"I've already ordered it," Hypereides told him. "Still I'm glad you mentioned it. It won't hurt to lie to for a bit here, will it? I've got a speech to make to the crew."

"We'd have to, to unship the mast."

"Good." Going aft to face the crew, he waved for their attention and bellowed, "Up oars! In oars! Waterman, you can pass the dipper while I'm talking. Men, how many of you have families still on the island? As far as you know?"

About half the hands went up, including Lyson's.

"All right. We don't want to lose a lot of time here, so those who don't, stay on your benches. The kybernetes will call the ones who do to the gangplank by oar groups, one from port, one from starboard. That's no more than six at a time, ever. If you see 'em-that's wives, children, parents, or your wife's parents, and nobody else-tell 'em to come to the gangplank and the soldiers will let 'em board. If you don't see 'em, they're probably back home already, so go back to your bench so the next oar group can come up. I have to go ashore-"

There were a few muttered groans.

"-to consult with the authorities. Acetes and his men will keep order; if you know what's good for you, you'll do as they say. While they're on this ship, your wives and families are your responsibility. Keep 'em in hand or they'll be put ashore, and not on the mainland, either. Otherwise nobody's to leave the ship till we get to Tieup. I should be back by the time your families are on board and the kybernetes has found places for 'em and got 'em settled down, and as soon as I'm back, off we go. I want to make Tieup before nightfall, you hear me?"

That brought a rousing cheer.

"And I won't be denied! So get some rest, because you may have to break your backs before we do. Now-Out oars! Mind the count!" He beat the rowing rhythm with one hand on the other as the flute boy readied his instrument.

"I love my wife, and she loves me! But all I do is stir this sea! I love my girl, and she loves me! But all I do is stir this sea!"