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The rowers took up the chant, and soon men with mooring lines were leaping to the quay, where a thousand slatternly women greeted our ships by calling out names that might have been anybody's, holding up their babies, and waving rags of every color, and many that were of no color at all. Hypereides, whose armor I had polished with similar rags, could hardly get a foot on the gangplank for the press of them, and at length the soldiers had to drive them back with the butts of their spears to permit him to leave.
Astonishingly (or so I thought) a few of these women were actually the wives of various rowers. When the first hugs and kisses were done with, the kybernetes made them sit on the thalamite benches (which run completely across the ship under the storming deck) and threatened to put them on the ballast if the ship became unstable, as he assured them it would if they let their children run loose.
A bowman came aft to join us as we watched. "I am Oior," he said. "You do not remember?"
When I shook my head, Io pulled at my chiton, whispering, "Watch out, Latro. You know what Lyson said."
"Oior does Latro no harm. Spu was the Son of Scoloti who wished harm to Latro, and Spu is gone."
Pindaros drawled, "I heard about that. Hypereides thinks he jumped ship at Teuthrone. What do you think, Oior?"
The bowman laughed. "Oior is a Son of Scoloti. Oior does not think. Ask any man of your people. But tell me, does it not make you sad to see so many men who now greet their families again, when you do not?"
"I don't have much of one, for which I thank the gods," Pindaros told him. "If I did, somebody else would have claimed my estate. Let's just hope that our noble enemies here leave me in possession-otherwise, I'll need a few rich relations to take care of me, and I haven't got them."
"Sad for you. Oior has wife." He held out his hand at waist level with the thumb folded and all four fingers extended. "So many sons. Many, many daughters, too many for any man. You want girl? Play with this one, take care of her when older. You choose. Oior sell very cheap."
Hilaeira gasped, "Would he? Really do that? Sell his own children?"
"Of course," Pindaros said. "All barbarians will, except for the kings. And very wise of them too, I'd say. Children are easily got and lots of trouble afterward. I'm with you, Oior."
"Easily got by men," Hilaeira snapped. "Not by us. Not that I know for myself, but I've helped others. Why, my aunt-"
"Is somebody we don't want to hear about now," Pindaros told her.
"You talk to captain very much. Oior wants to know what you think this ship will do."
"Go to Tieup and get refitted. She's in pretty good shape now, so that shouldn't take more than a couple days. After that, perhaps join the fleet, which I should imagine is hanging about the Circling Isles hoping for a chance at the Great King's navy. Or the strategists may cook up another special task for Hypereides. One never knows."
"And you? Not just you only, this girl, this woman, this man, black man."
"We'll be left in the city, all of us. Those of us from the shining city will be sold as slaves, I think we can depend on that. If they've left me my estate, I'll buy our way out, and if they haven't, they haven't. Latro and the black man may be sold too-if they are, I'll buy them and free them, so that Latro can obey the oracle of the Shining God. If they're held as prisoners of war, well, I'll see what I can do."
Hilaeira said, "I don't want to be a freed slave. I'm a freeborn citizen."
"Of a conquered city," Pindaros reminded her dryly.
"Bowmen go ashore in Tieup?"
"Certainly. I imagine you'll be paid there, at least if you ask for it. Then you can go home, if you like."
"Oior will maybe leave this ship, go on some other."
I asked him whether fighting for anyone who would hire him were the only way he had to earn his living.
"You also," he said. "So this man speaks."
"I know," I said. "I wanted to learn about you because I thought it might tell me something of myself. You have a wife and children; do you have a house too, and a farm?"
He shook his head. "The Sons of Scoloti do not have those things. We live in wagons, follow grass. Oior has many, many horses, many cattle also. Here in south you have pigs and sheep. We never see them if not we come. They are slow to walk. They could not live in my land."
Pindaros asked, "Is the sun in your eyes, Oior?"
"Yes, yes. Light from the water." He seemed to stare at the deck. "Eyes are the bowman. I go now."
When he had left, Pindaros remarked, "That was rather strange, don't you think?"
I said, "For a bowman to have weak eyes? I suppose so."
Io murmured, "They were only weak when they looked at you, master."
Hypereides returned as the last of the sailors' families were being settled, just as he had promised. With him were a dozen attractive women, finely dressed in gowns of yellow, pink, and scarlet, with much silver jewelry and some gold. Several held flutes or little drums, but their many bags and boxes were carried for them by porters whom their leader paid.
This was a plump woman somewhat younger than Hypereides, with red hair and cold blue eyes. She came aft with him as we pushed off from the quay, now riding so deep that the greased boots of the thalamites' oars were almost in the water. "Well, well," she said, looking at me. "Here's a likely boy! Where'd you get this one?"
"Picked them all up at Tower Hill after we left Dolphins, as I told you. He's the perfect confidant-forgets everything overnight."
"Really?" I would not have believed those hard eyes could be sad, but for a moment they were.
"I swear it. I'll introduce you to him, but tomorrow he won't know your name unless he notes it down. Will you, Latro?"
Wishing to please her and discountenance him, I said, "How could I forget it? No one could forget such a woman, whom once seen must remain in the eye of the mind forever."
She dimpled and took my right hand between hers, which were small and moist. "I'm Kalleos, Latro. Do you know you're quite the figure of a man?"
"No," I said. "But thank you."
"You are. You might pose for one of the sculptors, and perhaps you will. In fact, you'd be just about perfect, if only you had money. You don't, do you?"
"I have this." I showed her my coin.
She laughed. "One spit! Where'd you get it?"
"I don't know."
"Is this a joke, Hypereides? Will he actually forget who I am?"
"Unless he writes it in that book he carries, and remembers to read what he's written."
"Wonderful!" Smiling at me still, she said, "What you have there isn't really money, Latro, only change. A daric or a mina, that's money. Hypereides, will you let me have him?"
He shook his head as though in despair. "This war's ruined the leather trade. In the old days, certainly. But now… " He shrugged.
"What do you think it's done for us, cooped up on Peace with a bunch of refugees? Latro, you look strong enough. Can you box or wrestle?"
"I don't know."
Pindaros said, "I've seen him with a sword-no spear and no hoplon. If I were a strategist, I'd trade ten shieldmen for him."
Kalleos looked at him. "Don't I know you, pig?"
He nodded. "Some friends treated me to a di
"That's right!" Kalleos snapped her fingers. "You're the poet. You got Rhoda to help you with a love lyric. It ended up being a little, uh-"
"Paphian," Pindaros supplied.
"Exactly! Pinfeather… What's your name?"
"Pindaros, madame."
"Pindaros, I'm sorry I called you a pig. It's the war, you know-everybody does it. Hypereides will let you come with him tonight, if he knows what's good for him. I don't know if my house's still standing, but we'll make it up to you whether it is or not. No charge. If you need money, I could even lend you a few drachmas till you get home again."