"If you wish," said Tjorr, surprised. He wore a sword at his thick
waist. "But spare me my hammer." Hanging by a thong around one
shoulder, it was an iron-headed mallet, a foot and a half long and some
fifteen pounds in weight.
"Oh, keep your sword," said Eodan. "But what would you with that tool?"
"I found it a good weapon yesterday, though a little too short in
the haft. It needs more strength to wield than a battle-ax--but I
am strong, and it will not warp or break when needed most." Tjorr's
red-furred hand caressed the thing. "And then, we of the Rukh-Ansa are
a horse-loving folk, who honor the smith's trade above all others.
It feels homelike to carry a sledge again. And last, but foremost,
Captain, this hammer broke the chains off me. For that it shall have a
high place in my house on the Don, and I shall offer it sacrifices."
Eodan found himself warming to the Sarmatian. He asked further. The
Alans were only barbarians in the sense of doing without cities and
books: they were a widespread race, many tribes between the Dnieper
and the Volga, who farmed and herded for a living. They bred galloping
warriors, word-crafty bards, skillful artisans; they traded with the
Greeks on the Black Sea and had not only meat and fish and hides to
sell, but cloth and metal shaped by their own hands.
"Times are not what they have been in the lands of Azov," rumbled
Tjorr. "We are getting to be too many for our pastures; a dry year
means a hungry winter. And the Greeks press upon us. It was in a raid
on them that I was captured. Nonetheless, I am of high blood among the
Ansa, and now you are my chief. You shall have a good welcome. I hope
you will remain, but, if not, you shall go where you wish, with gifts
and warriors."
"Let us first get to your Don River," said Eodan. He turned from the
Alan, knowing he hurt him by such curtness. But he could not speak of
hope when Hwicca lay farther from him than Rome from Cimberland.
Could it but be judged by the sword, between him and Flavius! But death
was no remedy, thought Eodan; and that knowledge, which he had not had
before, was bitter within him.
The day and the night passed. He noticed that the crew were beginning
to talk in small groups, on the deck or down in the south. The former
captain jerked a thumb at the sight, as he neared. He thought little of
it.
When he came from his tent next morning to take his watch with
Demetrios, there were cloud banks piled white in the south. The former
captain jerked a thumb at the sight. "There you are," he said. "That
marks Sicily. We'll round Lilybaeum today. Then we'll have to come
about on an east-southeast course. Don't like cutting over open sea
myself, but we can't get lost very bad. Daresay we'll raise Africa
around Cyrenaica, then follow the coast to Egypt."
"And abandon the ship on some unpeopled beach," nodded Eodan.
He saw, of a sudden, that his crew was gathering under the poop. Some
had been on deck already, now others emerged in answer to low-voiced
hails. Only Flavius and the helmsman remained apart. Tjorr unshipped
his hammer, walked to the poop's edge and looked down. The wind tossed
his hair and beard like flame. "What's this?" he said. "What are you
muck-toads up to?"
A very young man, dark and aquiline, not all the eagerness whipped out
of him, waved his hands at the others. "Come, follow me," he said.
"This way. Stick close. We've all decided, now we've all got to stick
together." They shuffled their feet, sheepish under Eodan's chilling
green gaze. A burly man in the rear began to herd them along, slapping
at stragglers. They drifted toward the Cimbrian.
"Well?" said Eodan.
The youth ducked his head. "Master Captain," he began. "I am called
Quintus. I'm from Saguntum in Spain. The men have chosen me, fair and
open, by free vote, to speak for us all."
"And?" Eodan dropped a hand to his sword.
The black eyes were uneasy beneath his, but there was a mongrel courage
in them. "Master Captain," said Quintus, "we're not unmindful of being
freed. Though none of us was asked, and some would not have voted to
desert their posts, if it had been put to the fair democratic test. For
mark you, Master, it wasn't a very merry life, but you got your bread,
and you rested ashore between voyages. Now we can look for nothing but
slow death, the innocent with the guilty, if we're caught."
"I do not intend to be caught," said Eodan.
"Oh, of course not, Master!" The boy washed his hands together,
servilely, and cringed. But he did not leave the spot where he stood.
And behind the silent, shuffling mass, his big confederate held a piece
of broken oar to prod the reluctant into place.
"There is money aboard," said Eodan. "When we come to Egypt and beach
this hulk, we shall divide the coins and go our separate ways. Would
you not rather become a free Alexandrian worker than sit chained to a
bench all your life?"
"Well, now, sir, the free man is often only free to starve. An owner
keeps his slaves fed, at least. Some of us is right unhappy about that.
We don't know how to go about finding work in a strange land. We don't
know the talk nor customs nor anything. The older of us are all too
plainly slaves, with marks of shackle and whip, maybe a brand--and what
have we got to prove we was lawfully freed, if anyone asks? Master
Captain, we have talked about this a long time, and reached a fair
democratic decision, and now we crave you listen to it."
Eodan thought grimly, It is another thing I had not understood, that a
slave need not be pampered to embrace his own slavery.
He said aloud, forcing a grin, "Well, if you want to be chained again,
I can oblige you."
A few men snickered nervously. Quintus shook his head. "You make a
joke, Master. Now let me put it to you square, as man to man. For
we are all free comrades now, thanks to you, Master Captain. But we
are all outlaws, too. None dare go home, unless they come from a far
barbarian land; none of us from civilized parts can ever return, now
can we? But we've got this ship, and we've got arms. There are not
so many of us yet, but with the first success we can have more like
ourselves. And the eastern sea is full of trade; I know those waters
myself. There is also many an island around Greece where nobody ever
comes, to hide on--and many a lesser port we could sail into to spend
our earnings, where no one asks how it was earned--"
"Get to the point, you dithering blubberhead!" said Tjorr. "You want to
turn sea bandits, is that the way of it?"
The Spanish youth shrank back, swayed forward again and chattered:
"Pirates, so, pirates, Master Captain. Free companions of the Midworld
Sea. There's no other hope for us, not really there isn't. If
caught--and many of us would surely be caught, wandering into Egypt by
ourselves--we'll die anyhow. This way, if the gods are kind, we'll not
die at all. Or if we do, we'll have had good times before!"
"Pirates," mumbled the crew. "Pirates. We'll be pirates."
Tjorr leaped down to the main deck so it thudded beneath him. He
walked forward in a red bristle, his hammer aloft. "You fish-eyed
slobberguts!" he roared. "Back to your duty!"
The burly man hefted his broken oar. "Now, Master Mate," he said. "Be
calm. This was voted on--uh--"
"Democratic," supplied Quintus.
"So now a ship is to be a republic?" called Flavius from the poop. "I
wish you joy of your captaincy, Eodan!"
The Cimbrian closed fingers about his sword. He could not feel the
anger that snapped from Tjorr; it seemed of no great importance when
Hwicca had cloven herself from him.
"I do not wish this," he said mildly.
Emboldened, the Spaniard stepped close to him. "Oh, Master Captain,
there was no thought of mutiny," he exclaimed. "Why, we are your best
friends! That was the first thing I said, when we met to talk this
over, the captain is our captain, I said, and--"
"I have better things to do than skulk about these waters."
"But Captain, sir, we'll be your men! We'll do anything you say." The
boy grinned confidently, pressing his words in. "Just treat us like
men, with some rights of our own, is all we ask."
"I'll treat you like an anvil first!" snorted Tjorr. His hammer lifted.
"No, wait." Eodan caught the mate's arm as Quintus scuttled back
squealing. "Let them have their way."
"_Disa!_" said Tjorr with horror. "You'd turn into a louse-bitten
pirate, who could be a king of the Rukh-Ansa?"
"Oh, no. We shall still leave the ship in Egypt, as we planned. But
if they want to take it afterward and go roving, it is no concern of
ours." Eodan bent close, muttering, "Until we do get there, we'll need
a willing crew."
"We'll have one, if you'll let me bang loose a few teeth," said Tjorr.
"I know this breed. Yellow dogs! They'll lick your feet or pull out
your throat, but naught in between."
"It is not my pleasure to fight our own men," said Eodan coldly.
"But--but--Well, so be it, my chief."
Eodan turned back to the others. "I agree thus far. You may have the
vessel after I have disembarked at my goal. Meanwhile, I advise you to
learn better seamanship!"
"But, Master Captain," said Quintus, "we know you and the honored mate
are the best fighters aboard. We want you to lead us."
Eodan shook his head.
"Well--will you lead us against any ships we may happen to find before
you depart?"