Myrina reached out to hug her tightly. “Remember what Cassandra said—we will never be apart in our hearts and we will always share our mirror visions!”
Orestes watched this, frowning a little. “Seris will take your leaving hard,” he warned. “I’m sure that he has hopes . . .”
Myrina nodded. “I will speak to him,” she promised. “Will you speak to our hosts and thank them so that we do not seem to leave discourteously?”
“Yes, I will do it now! Then I will try to persuade the crew!”
Iphigenia smiled and wagged her finger at him in a sisterly manner. “Remember, little brother, you are the master!”
They wandered off in different directions, searching for the right words to use, so that their decision would not give too much pain to their friends. Seris’s disappointment was clear in his face when he heard her plans, and he snatched at a small crumb of hope. “I will come with you,” he said. “Ask your devoted follower King Daris to give you a boat and I will navigate you back across the Inhospitable Sea, if that is where you wish to go. Orestes and Pylades can manage to find Athens without me!”
But Myrina shook her head. “I long for the nomadic life that I knew as a young girl,” she told him. “To ride across the grassy steppe and stuff my pillow with fresh feather grass and sleep with the stars above my head. I need the excitement of packing up tents and moving to fresh pastures with each new moon. I must not forget that I am a warrior priestess, a Moon Rider.”
Seris struggled to understand. “It is a harsh life that you describe,” he said, puzzled that she should want to live with such hardship.
“Yes,” Myrina agreed. “But I was born a Mazagardi and that way of life is part of me. It is not the right way for you.”
“I have spent most of my life traveling,” he objected.
Myrina smiled. “But you—you are a nomad of the sea. I have watched the way your nose twitches at the salt sea breeze and your eyes light up at the sight of a sail unfurling and you love the creaky singing of the deck beneath your feet. I am sad to say it, but we do not belong together and even if . . .” She paused, reluctant to hurt him, but wishing to be honest. “There is . . . another that I think of.”
Seris sighed deeply, seeing at last that he was beaten. “You have never spoken of him,” he said. “But I think I know his name; it is Kuspada!”
Myrina was amazed. “But how . . . ?”
Seris laughed. “You are not the only one who is devoted to him; he is a very lucky fellow. Both Tamsin and Phoebe chant his name at every turn. Kuspada rides like a centaur! Kuspada draws golden nuggets through the fire. Kuspada tells us tales of the sky god and his snaky wife.”
Myrina could not help but smile to hear this.
“Well . . . he must be a fine fellow, this Kuspada,” Seris told her generously, “to win so quick and fierce a snake lady’s heart.”
Myrina took his hand and pressed it with gratitude. “I will never forget that your skills saved all our lives. I want us to part as friends!”
“We are friends,” Seris agreed. “And I will never forget the Snake Lady, who stabbed me in the heart, then patched me up! But . . . I know when I am beaten. I think we had better get to our beds now if my master will insist that we set sail again so soon!”
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Fates
THOUGH THERE WAS reluctance on the part of Daris and Ira to let them go, both Orestes and Myrina insisted that they must travel on. Seris swallowed his disappointment bravely and barked at his crew until they understood that their moment of bliss had passed and they must return to the old, hard life. Tamsin and Phoebe felt a great sadness at the thought of leaving Iphigenia and their new friends, but the promise of a long adventurous journey raised their spirits and sent them fettling their bows and sharpening their arrows.
“Soon I will ride at Leni’s side.” Phoebe looked forward to that.
“Yes.” Tamsin smiled. “We will be Moon Riders again.”
The whole of the next day was spent preparing to leave, and this time the ship was loaded to the gunwales with butts of fresh water, grain, oatmeal, dates, figs, salted fish, and smoked meats of every kind. The hull was newly patched, pitched, and painted. The following morning they were up before the dawn, and it seemed the whole population of the Isle of Marble had risen early to see them on their way. They all gathered on the beach carrying torches, but before crew and passengers went aboard, Myrina made an announcement.
“Now we Moon Riders must make some small return for the Marble Islanders’ hospitality,” she said. “We bring you the blessing of Maa!”
Iphigenia came forward with Phoebe and Tamsin on either side of her, their brows decked with silver circlets and a crescent moon. The islanders gasped with delight when they saw them and moved back to make a space for them.
The four Moon Riders joined hands, and there on the beach as the sun came up, they danced to welcome the day. Myrinus accompanied them with a steady drum beat, and his parents stood hand in hand watching proudly. They followed it with the Dance of Blessing, which would bring fertility and safety to the islanders for many years to come. As they finished, the king and queen went to kiss them. Instead of applauding, the islanders reverently whispered their thanks.
“I had thought you’d forgotten the Moon Riders’ dance,” Daris told Myrina.
“No, never!” Myrina shook her head fiercely.
“I am glad of that,” he said.
Then it was time to lead Big Chief calmly up the gangplank, his coat sleek with grooming and his belly full; Snowboots, Sandmane, and Moonbeam followed on.
Myrina hugged her host and hostess again. “I cannot thank you enough!” she whispered. “I fear we may not meet again!”
The young king kissed her on both cheeks and laughed. “Snake Lady! That is what you said last time! I do not believe you! The Isle of Marble is always here for you.”
They sailed away, southward down through the Dardanelles toward the Hellespont, as the sun rose to its zenith. Through the morning they made steady progress, but the sea grew choppy as the two coastlines drew close together. The narrow passageway of water that linked the Sea of Marmara to the Aegean was busy with heavily loaded cargo ships, for since the defeat of Troy there were now no dues to be paid and water traffic passed freely up and down.
“What are they all carrying?” Myrina asked.
“They carry butts of olive oil and pottery to the Caucasus Mountains and bring back grain and iron,” Seris told her.
“Father always told us it was the waterway the Achaeans really wanted,” said Myrina. “It seems he was right.”
Iphigenia listened sadly. “Was I to be sacrificed for a waterway?” she murmured.
Myrina stroked her friend’s arm. “Many were sacrificed,” she said.
The ship lurched up and down as the waves grew, so that the passengers clung unsteadily to the balustrades of the afterdeck while they passed the mountains of Thrace to the west and the empty desolation that was once Priam’s kingdom to the east.
As they drew close to the narrowest point, despite the swinging of the deck, Myrina prepared to leave, giving Seris and the girls a nod.
“Furl the sail!” Seris cried.
Myrina went to where Big Chief was tethered, but the wind rose so sharply that she had to grab hold of the stanchion, dropping her baggage to soothe the beasts. The Castor and Pollux started to toss wildly up and down as the sky turned black and a heavy rain began to pelt down on them. Many aboard cried out in alarm.
“Not again,” Myrina grumbled, trying to shelter at Big Chief’s side.
“Back the oars!” Seris bellowed, trying desperately to hold the ship against the violent tipping of the waves.
“There’ll be no putting ashore now,” Myrina told herself. It seemed the fates were blocking her every decision.
The wind blew to such a pitch that Seris had every man hauling on the oars, just to keep the vessel from ramming into the coast; no hope of ma
king a landing. The suddenness of the storm had caught other vessels unawares, and they heard the dreadful crack that came from two small fishing boats that clashed together and lurched to the side, sinking fast.
The Castor and Pollux was carried helplessly down the narrow channel of the Hellespont and out into the open sea as the sky went darker still and lightning flashed across the sky. A great rumble of thunder followed another flash that caught the mast. The horses screamed and reared as the heavy wooden pole first cracked and then crashed down onto the terrified oarsmen, sending the ship spinning wildly around. Myrina could do nothing but cower beneath the stanchion, her face lashed with rain. She tried hopelessly to soothe Big Chief, but the horses snaked their heads in terror and it was hard to avoid their trampling hooves.
“Cush! Cush!” she whispered.
Seris shouted orders that his crew had no hope of obeying. The ship spun wildly onward, tossed by huge waves.
“The sea god is angry!”
“We should not have come!”
“Poseidon save us!”
“Why not stay safe on the Isle of Marble?”
At last the terrible whirling seemed to slow down a little, and the darkness began to lift. Myrina climbed out of the space where she’d been hiding to see that they were being carried in a great rush past a coastline that seemed somehow familiar to her. As she gazed up at the dark mound in the distance, topped with crumbling towers and broken walls, she understood that they had been blown off course and carried east in quite the opposite direction from Athens. That desolate mound, with its cracked walls that stood like broken teeth against the returning sun, must be the shattered remains of Troy.
Iphigenia struggled to her side. “Is that the ruined city?” she whispered.
“Oh yes,” Myrina told her.
The fall of the mast had killed two of Seris’s men outright and badly crushed five more. Myrina forced her own concerns away and staggered down the deck to help those who were hurt. Iphigenia and the two girls bravely worked with her, binding wounds and clearing up the mess of blood and vomit.
Seris endeavored simply to keep his ship afloat, while Orestes and Pylades took orders from him, trying frantically to stuff a leaking hole and hack free the broken mast to prevent it dragging the ship right over onto its side.
A watery sun broke through the clouds, and though the waves had subsided, it seemed they were now being carried along by a powerful current. They looked desperately for a sandy cove, toward which they might try to steer the tipping vessel. The coast was nothing but rocks and cliffs and they had little daylight left to them, as the sun was already beginning to set.
Seris gave the steering oar to Orestes and Pylades while he stumbled the full length of the ship to stand in the prow, feverishly scanning the horizon. Then suddenly he shouted and pointed wildly ahead of them. “Run for shelter!”
“Where, man?” Orestes bellowed.
“An island, with a sandy beach!”
They all turned to look where he pointed and saw that he was right. Ahead of them, just a little way out from the coast, was a small island with a high hill in the middle and a building perched on top of it. Myrina struggled toward the prow, staring at the sight ahead; she had the strangest sense of having seen this place before but couldn’t think when. Had she dreamed it? No name would come to mind, but it did have a fine sandy beach.
Seris went back to the stern to see if they could turn the heavy steering oar and heave the lopsided vessel in the direction they wanted. The strong current that carried them eastward threatened to wash them farther out to sea, completely missing this safe haven.
“Hold tight! Hold tight!” Seris warned as the three of them threw their weight together to force the steering oar around.
Everyone obeyed, grabbing tight hold of the gunwales or the stanchions. Myrina braced herself on the balustrades as the creaking ship swung about. The strange sense of recognition fled from her mind—all she wanted now was to survive and crawl ashore.
“Tamsin!” she cried.
“I’ve got her!” Phoebe answered.
“Hold tight,” Seris cried again. “Now!”
Seris could not prevent the impact; all he could do was steer for the softest-looking sandbank as he drove his ship aground.
The Castor and Pollux slid forward almost smoothly, then stuck with a sickening lurch that sent many of those aboard flying the full length of the deck. Myrina heard Big Chief and his mares protesting and then the scrape of their hooves as they skidded wildly on the deck. There were more cracking sounds as part of the thwarts shattered, then sudden quietness.
The balustrade that Myrina clung to gave way and she slipped into shallow water that broke her fall. She scrambled quickly to her feet, grateful to find that though she was soaking wet and badly bruised, all her limbs were still attached and working.
Her first thought as ever was for the girls. “Tamsin, Phoebe!” she bellowed. Two answering calls told her that they, too, were alive. Next she whistled for Big Chief, but she need not have worried about him; she was answered by a surprised snort far ahead on the darkening beach.
“Snake Lady, are you safe?” It was Orestes’ voice close to her. She could see the dark shape of him as he hauled himself upright ahead of her.
“A light!” he called. “A light ahead. People are coming—is this help or hindrance?
Myrina turned and saw that there were indeed two figures moving down toward them from the hillside where she had seen the building with a tower.
Orestes moved protectively in front of her and at the same time she found Iphigenia at her side. She grasped her hand, grateful that she, too, had survived. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” Iphigenia’s voice was calm as ever. “Not hurt at all!”
“Nothing seems to trouble you,” Myrina said, a touch of resentment in her voice.
“But we are safe.” Iphigenia spoke with certainty, her voice warm and confident. “You must know that we are safe!”
Myrina’s sense of the familiarity of the place returned at once. “I thought . . .” she murmured. “I thought I knew this place, but . . .”
Iphigenia laughed; a strange sound among so much wreckage. “You and I have both been here in spirit,” she said. “We have nothing to fear!”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
A Place of Safety
MYRINA COULD SEE the pale oval of her friend’s face in the dim light and the whiteness of her teeth as she smiled. If Iphigenia swore that they were safe, then perhaps they were.
Orestes marched ahead of them, his sword ready in his hand. Now they could see the two figures much more clearly: one was tall and slender and carried two gleaming oil lamps in either hand; the other, marching ahead, was a young boy. He carried a strong staff to help him walk, but as Myrina saw the strange shadow that followed his every movement, she gave a small joyful cry of recognition. Now she knew where they were.
She reached out for Iphigenia’s hand. “I can’t believe it! Young Chryse and Cassandra!”
Iphigenia could hardly speak for the tears of joy that welled up in her throat. “But it is true . . .” she stammered. “We are really here on the island of Sminthe and . . . I am to meet my other little brother at last!”
The magical gray shadow swirled about the boy’s feet, and every step he took brought forward a swarm of dark mouse bodies that rippled together as though they were one. But when the boy saw Orestes coming toward him, sword at the ready, he raised his strong staff in both hands and rushed forward aggressively.
Orestes pulled back, seeing this was little more than a child; but as the boy ran at him, he was forced to put up his sword to defend himself.
“Stop! Stop at once!” The tall slim woman who carried the lamps hurried forward and Myrina and Iphigenia saw with delight that it was their dear Cassandra, a little older looking and not quite as thin as she used to be.
“Put away your weapons!” Cassandra ordered. “You would not attack your brother, would
you?”
Orestes and the Mouse Boy both stopped at once, utterly amazed.
Myrina and Iphigenia could not speak; their eyes had filled with tears, but huge smiles spread across their faces.
“Wh-who are you speaking to?” Chryse turned to Cassandra in confusion.
“I am speaking to you both! For you two are brothers!”
Orestes looked from the strange boy to the older woman. “Then you . . . must be Cassandra, Princess of Troy!”
She smiled at him. “That was long ago! Now I am priestess of the temple here. I serve both Sminthean Apollo and Maa.”
Orestes stood still, amazed and helpless, his sword still dangling in his hand.
“Send your men up to the temple.” Cassandra took charge, holding out a lantern. “There is food and shelter for them all.”
Orestes seemed too stunned to direct his men, so Pylades strode forward, understanding the strange nature of this meeting. He took the lanterns from Cassandra and led the men up the hill. They followed him, coughing seawater from their lungs and carrying their wounded.
Orestes hung back, still shaken by what Cassandra had said. Though they now stood there in darkness, a heavy cloud rolled back, revealing a fine bright moon.
“Maa smiles down on her Moon Riders tonight,” Iphigenia whispered at last. Then she stepped forward and bent to kiss Chryse on the cheek. “I am your sister,” she told him gently, “and I have longed to meet you.”
Chryse’s mouth dropped open in wonder. “Are you Iphigenia? I should have known,” he said. “The mice were wild this afternoon, running round in a circle, faster and faster. Cassandra swore that we were to have visitors and a great blessing coming to us, but . . . when I saw the man with the sword I feared you were pirates come to steal us away.”
Everyone smiled at his words, and Tamsin came forward, holding out her hand to him. “I have heard of you,” she said.
“And I,” said Phoebe shyly.
Iphigenia got up and held her arms wide to Cassandra, a huge happy smile on her face. “I thought never to see you again!” she murmured, her voice full of emotion.
Voyage of the Snake Lady Page 23
