Iphigenia sighed. “He is a spoiled and stubborn young man, but . . . not wicked, I think. He begs me to marry him and of late I have given him a little hope, just to fend him off and keep him as my friend. I do not like to be deceitful, but . . .”
Myrina clasped her hand. “You have learned from the Snake Lady! And I think you have learned well. What other choice do we have? Thoas has a huge army to back him! We could go down fighting, you and I. We could stand back to back and send many of these Taurians to their goddess’s hunting ground. But a little trickery might save our lives and theirs. King Thoas is besotted with you.”
“No.” Iphigenia smiled, shrugging her shoulders. “He loves women. He has more wives than any other king I’ve heard of. He’s intrigued with me and swears that I am different. I make him feel at peace, he says, but he will soon tire of peace! This month it is me; next month it will be another.”
“If this is true . . .” An idea began to come to Myrina that might help them get away and please Nonya at the same time.
“I am the first woman to be unwilling to marry Thoas, which seems to make him all the more keen,” Iphigenia said.
“But he listens to you and respects what you say?”
“Yes,” she agreed with a wry smile. “Yes, he does, but he will not listen to my pleading for the lives of the Chosen Ones. Sacrifice has been a long and ancient tradition here: the people are so stupid, they fear that the goddess will be angry and make the sea dry up if they do not feed these poor bewildered strangers back into it.”
Myrina smiled at the irony of Iphigenia calling the Taurians stupid just as Nonya and Katya had done. Perhaps they had more in common than they realized. “I think I see a way . . .” Her spirits rose a little as a new plan slowly began to form in her mind. “If you told Thoas that you had discovered that these young strangers were guilty of murder—which is quite true—and swore that they must be purified by washing them in the sea . . . would he agree to that?”
“Yes, that might be possible. I think we’d be well guarded, but . . .” Iphigenia’s face lit up with understanding. “I begin to see!”
“And you must bring the old figurehead, too!”
“That figurehead saved my life,” Iphigenia told her seriously.
Iphigenia insisted that Myrina rest while her wound began to knit and she regained her strength. When they were alone they spoke together of their plans, but while the temple servants hovered around to wait on them, they tried to make the most of good food and drink, though Myrina thought often of the three girls left guarding the cave and the horses.
As darkness fell that evening they went down to the sacred inner temple, where the two young sacrifices were kept in surroundings more luxurious even than the priestess’s chambers.
They found them both thin and pale, beside platters piled high with honeyed dates and sweetmeats that they couldn’t bring themselves to touch. “A gilded cage!” Myrina hissed.
But at Iphigenia’s warning glance, she fell silent.
Orestes went at once to his sister, the deep, instinctive affection between them clear to see. Iphigenia spoke quietly to the boys, explaining the plan, and Pylades turned his head to listen, alert and suddenly hopeful. Myrina warmed to him, understanding his anger. She remembered the time long ago when she’d been companion to the young Princess Cassandra, also thought by many to be mad. It had not been an easy friendship at first, but Cassandra had turned out to be the most extraordinary person Myrina had ever known. Now she looked at Orestes and thought that even he might be hauled back to sanity and redeemed by his sister’s love and care. Perhaps Pylades would be rewarded for his devotion in the end.
“Do you understand?” Iphigenia took her brother’s hand.
“Of course I do,” Orestes said, but when she asked him to repeat her words, he shook his head and couldn’t. His sister soothed him and told him it didn’t matter, while Myrina spoke fast and low to Pylades, making sure that he at least would know what to do. “You are a true friend,” she told him. “Believe me, I know what such friendship costs!”
“We were raised as brothers,” Pylades said simply.
“And brothers you are!” Myrina agreed.
She explained their plan to him and felt confident that she could rely on his nerve and good judgment to steer his friend through the ordeal that lay ahead. They returned to the priestess’s chamber and ate a good meal. Iphigenia sent one of the temple guards off to Thoas’s palace with a message that she must see him early in the morning, for an impediment to the sacrifice had arisen. While she was giving these orders, Myrina secretly packed away some of the fruit and soft white bread from the table. Then Iphigenia dismissed the servants, giving them the impression that she and Myrina were settling down for the night.
As soon as they were alone, Myrina drew back the hanging that covered the secret entrance to the passageway, taking up the bundle of food that she’d prepared. They both paused, looking fearfully at each other for a moment. “Do we do right?” Iphigenia murmured.
“What choice is there?” Myrina asked. “Until the full moon,” she whispered, kissing her friend. “I pray you will not forget Nonya.”
“I will not!” Iphigenia whispered. “Blessings of Mother Maa! Until the full moon!”
Myrina hurried down the steep rocky steps, her wounded arm bound tightly in protective leather, still wearing the beautiful priestess’s robe. Her heart thundered with excitement. She needed every drop of courage she could muster and every bit of snaky craftiness, too.
The three girls were sitting together in the cave mouth just as she’d left them, but they rose to their feet with wild relief when they saw her.
“Where is Iphigenia?” Tamsin demanded anxiously.
“What a beautiful dress!” Phoebe frowned. “Aah! You are wounded!”
“I am strong enough and there is no time to explain,” Myrina told them. “Iphigenia is safe for now and I need you all to ride fast with me to find the Achaean ship, the Castor and Pollux, that we passed on our way to Tauris. Fetch me the horses and some proper riding clothes!”
Tamsin and Phoebe ran at once to obey her, but Katya looked at Myrina with suspicion.
“Where is my grandmother?” she asked.
“She, too, is safe enough.” Myrina grabbed the girl by the shoulders and spoke firmly. “You must trust me, Katya, and come with us. I know it is hard, but you must believe me.”
“I haven’t the skill to ride,” she protested. “I will stay here and wait for Grandmother!”
“No!” Myrina insisted. “You ride with me. You are all important to our plans and if you wish to see your grandmother safe and happy again, you will do as I say!”
Phoebe stumbled into the cave mouth with a bundle of Sinta trousers and a smock. Katya watched uneasily as Myrina stripped the silken gown over her head and struggled into comfortable riding gear.
Phoebe picked up the gown and made to lay it inside the cave, but Myrina told her to roll it up carefully and put it into one of the bags.
Big Chief neighed a warm, impatient welcome as Myrina strode across the grass to him and leaped onto his back. Tamsin and Phoebe mounted their horses and they all turned back to Katya, who hesitated in the cave mouth.
Myrina wheeled Big Chief around. “Trust me!” she begged.
Katya sighed and came across to them, holding out her arms so that Myrina could lean down from Big Chief’s back and haul her up behind her.
“Hang on tight!” she hissed.
Katya wrapped her arms around Myrina’s waist and gritted her teeth, ready for the ride of her life.
All three horses set off, their ears pricked, manes flying as they lengthened their stride, heading toward the sea and the high cliff tops in the bright moonlight.
They galloped on, skirting the temple of Artemis. The building stood almost in darkness, still and quiet.
“What is happening in there?” Phoebe shouted.
“Tomorrow you will find out. Iphigenia will n
ot let us down.”
They rode through the night, never stopping until Myrina saw the furled brail sail of the Castor and Pollux down below them in the harbor at Yalushta, just as the darkness began to lift and a rosy glow crept up from the east.
Halfway down the steep grassy slope they dismounted to drink from a clear stream. They rested while they ate the bread and fruit that Myrina had brought from the temple and the horses grazed.
“Now,” said Myrina, her voice tense with the importance of what she had to say, “I will tell you what Iphigenia and I have planned. You must listen carefully, for we may need your help. It is a dangerous undertaking, but in order to free Iphigenia and deal fairly with Nonya we must take this course of action. Now, first there is something that I must explain—do you remember me telling you long ago that Iphigenia had a baby brother?”
The three girls listened, openmouthed, fascinated and concerned.
“Do you all understand?” she asked when she’d finished.
“Yes.” All three nodded gravely.
Chapter Thirty
The Castor and Pollux
THERE WAS NO time for them to ask more questions, for Myrina had seen the first signs of movement aboard the Castor and Pollux. She stood up and firmly spoke the order to ‘follow’ into Big Chief’s ear: “Zeygut! Zeygut!” Then she marched down the hillside, her bow strung ready on her shoulder, a full quiver of arrows strapped to her thigh. The girls and horses followed obediently at her heels.
As they got closer, Myrina was surprised at the lack of activity aboard. When they eventually stood on the quayside, looking down on the two decks, they understood that what they’d seen from the hillside was just two young oarsmen lowering a bucket over the side into the sea. Now they hauled the bucket up and began to splash water over their bleary eyes. Other oarsmen lay about the deck snoring as though they’d supped a great deal of wine the previous night. Myrina’s heart sank at the sight of them. This was not going to be easy, but there was no other way that she could think of.
“Hey there!” she shouted. “Get me your captain!”
“Who asks?” one of the young men replied, eyeing her and the girls, unimpressed.
“One who brings a message from your master!”
The two men looked at each other and laughed. “Our master? Our master has deserted us and anyway—he’s a madman!”
“He’s a dead madman!” The other grinned at his own wit. “We can’t take orders from him.”
“Who do you take orders from?” Myrina bellowed.
“Not from women!” the bigger sailor sneered, making an obscene hand gesture toward them.
He had gone too far.
“So it has to be done the hard way!” Myrina spoke with quiet anger. She slipped the bow from her shoulder and sent an arrow whizzing down to pierce right through the offending hand.
“Aagh! Curse and blast the bitch,” the sailor yelled, clutching his wounded hand frantically, while the other man pulled him back behind the mast, suddenly white- faced and frightened.
“Fetch me your captain!” Myrina ordered.
The smaller sailor turned to obey, but a tousle-haired fellow had already appeared beside him, yawning and scratching his beard. “Who wants me?” he growled. “What time of day . . . ?” He stopped, surprised to see a young woman and three girls staring angrily down at him, all armed with bows; three fine Sinta horses, ears pricked, waiting behind them. “And who . . . ?” he murmured.
“I am Myrina the Moon Rider!”
“Moon Rider!” He laughed. “The ones they call Amazon? No wonder Troy fell if this was all they had to defend them!”
Fuming, Myrina fitted another arrow to her bow; there wasn’t time for this. “Are you the captain of this ship?”
“I’m the captain—so what!”
“Watch her!” the smaller sailor cried. “Those arrows are double barbed. See what she has done to Phestus!”
The captain looked quickly back at her with grudging respect.
“Let me come aboard then.” She still threatened him with her bow. “I have a message from your master Prince Orestes.”
The man was impressed that at least she knew the name. Most of the crew were awake now and scrambling to their feet.
“Come aboard, my lady!” He bowed with mock courtesy, indicating a rope that they could climb down.
Myrina lowered her bow and replaced the arrow in her quiver. She swung down the rope and leaped lightly aboard. “There is no time to be lost,” she told him at once. “You must set your oarsmen in place and unfurl the sail while the wind blows in your favor. Your master has need of you and will join you to the west, outside the deep cut in the cliffs that is the entrance to Tauris harbor.”
The girls watched tensely from the quayside as seamen gathered about Myrina, cursing and grumpy that their sleep had been so rudely disturbed.
“What do you say?” the captain asked his crew, still grinning as though this was a joke. “Do you wish to row to Tauris in search of the lunatic prince?”
There were more foul jokes and nasty laughter. Myrina gritted her teeth—this was not going well. She looked up to see that the sun had risen from the sea and had now moved above the horizon. She was too close to draw her bow and send an arrow shooting into the captain’s heart, so she ducked lightly forward and snatched the short sword that dangled from his belt. Before he had realized what she was doing, she had it at his throat.
“What the . . . !” He was at last alert to danger and fully awake. One of his crew threw him a sword, but as the rest of his men ran to get their weapons, Phoebe bellowed, “Hold! First man to move gets an arrow in his throat!”
Both she and Tamsin had an arrow nocked and ready and a good vantage spot up on the quayside. Katya had taken the short meat knife from her belt and held it ready to throw. Even though the girls were so young, the sailors were wary; the man with an arrow in his hand still groaned and struggled to pull it out.
“Huh!” The captain was angry now. “Stay back, men. I don’t need you to help me fight women!”
He swung his weapon up, skillfully knocking Myrina’s stolen sword away from his throat.
“Ha!” He smiled again.
“That’s it!” his crew shouted. “Kill the bitch!”
Myrina recovered and grasped the sword again. She and the captain circled each other, their faces grim. Shouts of encouragement came from all around; but still wary of the arrows that might fly down on them, the crew did not interfere. Rather they settled themselves to enjoy a bit of sport.
Myrina bit her lip. What was she doing? The sword had never been her weapon, and her wounded arm was throbbing painfully inside the leather strap. If only she had the warrior skills of Penthesilea, she’d soon polish him off! But with the memory of her brave friend came a cheering flow of warm courage and strength. “Penthesilea is with me,” she told herself.
She took the sword in both hands and swung it fast in a neat figure-of-eight, as though it was naught but a light dancing stick. The unexpected movement sent the captain lurching to the side while Myrina swished the point at his ribs and managed to slice him.
A surprised groan came from the crew.
“Agree to my orders and the fight is over,” Myrina offered, holding back for just a moment.
The captain gave no reply, but clutched at his side, staring amazed at the blood that oozed out between his fingers.
Myrina raised her sword again, but the captain moved quickly now and grabbed her arm where the leather binding covered her bandaged wound. Myrina could not help but grimace at the pain it caused.
“What is this?” the man bellowed. “Fresh blood?”
Myrina saw with dismay that blood trickled down from her own reopened wound.
“What madwoman fights with a wounded arm?” the captain demanded. Reaching forward he ripped the leather away, revealing Myrina’s blood-soaked bandage.
“Leave me be,” she warned.
He looked at the bloody wo
und, then a puzzled expression came to him. When he spoke again his words were softer and more respectful. “Let us not fight, you and I! What are we fighting for?”
But Myrina still struggled to grasp her sword. “Will you muster your crew and set sail for Tauris?”
He let go of her arm and scratched his head. “Very well,” he agreed at last. “It seems I must.”
Myrina lowered her sword slowly. “Give the order then.”
“All hands!” he shouted, still gasping for breath. “To the oars!”
The men looked surprised, but they obeyed, reluctantly moving to the thwarts. The captain shook his head at the mess of blood that dripped down his side.
“I’m as mad as my master,” he muttered.
Myrina turned to Phoebe, pointing up at Big Chief. “Fetch my healing bundle!” she cried.
The girls had already lowered their bows, relieved that the fight was over. Now all three slipped down the rope ladder onto the deck, their arms full of baggage. The captain sat down on the lower rung of the ladder that led to the afterdeck, looking more surprised than ever as Myrina calmly searched in her bundles. Having found what she wanted, she began to pull away his clothing, pinching the wound together and applying ointment to his cut.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I will see to myself once we are under way,” she snapped.
Tamsin held out bandages, but she bared her teeth at the captain. “If you had hurt my mother, I’d have killed you myself.”
The man could not help but smile at such fierceness from one so young. Phoebe bent to help fashion a pad of healing herbs that Myrina strapped about his chest. Katya watched it all wide-eyed and quiet; her new friends were proving to be more ruthless and capable than she’d ever realized.
The captain sat back, rubbing his eyes in astonishment. “I have never before been stabbed, then patched up by the same one!” he murmured.
“Ha!” Myrina almost laughed. “Who better? For a Moon Rider the first lesson in fighting is how to stanch wounds. See what our young tiger can do!”
Voyage of the Snake Lady Page 19
