Read Online B. Alexander Howerton by The Wyrding Stone - Free Book Online Page B

satchels, she called, “Come dear,
we must make the best of it.”  Carialla remained frozen on the floor.  Nelka
suddenly rushed up to her, knelt down in front of her, and slapped her
sharply.  Eyes flashing, she hissed, “it is your duty to your city and your
people that you survive!”  Carialla rubbed her cheek and gazed into her
nursemaids eyes, which were showing kindness and sternness at the same time.  Nelka
held out her hand.  “Come.  Assist me.”
    The princess finally reached out.  Nelka grabbed her arm and
pulled her to her feet.  They both now engaged in desperately packing up
anything they could grab.  They noticed water begin to trickle in at the doorway,
where the aide stood unmoving.  They began to try to pick up as many of the
satchels and boxes as they could, but the aide said, in Egyptian with a very
thick accent, “leave things on bed.  We bring.  Come”
    As the two women emerged into the bright sunlight above
decks, they squinted and raised their hands to shield their eyes.  They then
gasped in horror at the sight they beheld.  The crew of their ship either lay
dead upon the gangplanks or were bound and being escorted by the Greek
assailants onto another ship that had smashed into the prow of the royal
trireme.  The masts and sails of the Tyrian ship were aflame, and the craft
listed at a sickening angle.  The wreckage caused by the ramming of the enemy
ship was tremendous.  It was obvious that it would not stay afloat much longer.
    The aid beckoned to the women to follow him, and picked his
way through the carnage.  Carialla clung desperately to her nursemaid as she
gazed in shock about her at the dead and dying seamen.  She could not avoid
dragging the hem of her gown in the blood that washed the deck.
    They were helped aboard the Greek trireme by some of its
sailors, and directed to the aft, where they descended stairs to their waiting
cabin.  The stateroom was appointed with very luxurious and very unfamiliar
Greek finery.  Porters brought in their things from the other ship, then the
door thudded shut behind them, and they could hear the unmistakable sounds of a
bolt being thrown across the door.  Carialla threw herself upon the ornately
brocaded bed covering, buried her face in her arms, and began sobbing.  Nelka
came over and sat beside her, stroking her and mumbling comforting phrases,
trying not to appear as anxious as she felt.
    There was a scraping and shuddering as the Greek trireme was
obviously dislodged from the conquered Tyrian craft, then for a long time they
could perceive nothing.  They watched the light dim outside of their small
windows as the day faded away, and they lit the lamps in their room.  They were
just beginning to become calm and even drowsy when they were startled into
alertness by the sounds of the door bolt being removed.  The door then opened,
and there stood Andros, now clean, freshly oiled, his red locks freshly pressed
and curled, and looking majestic in his admiral’s tunic.  He held out his right
hand.  “Princess, if you will please come with me.”
    Carialla glanced at Nelka, fear etched in her eyes.  The
nursemaid gave her hands a squeeze, and they stood up together to face whatever
would befall them.
    “Not you, you kind old crone,” Andros smirked.  “I wish to
entertain the Princess alone.”
    Carialla looked at Nelka again, fearful and trembling. 
Nelka responded, “It’s alright, my dear.  If they wanted to kill us, they would
have done so already.  Be strong.”  She patted her hand and turned her toward
the waiting Admiral.  Carialla advanced slowly, with trepidation, but Andros’
smiling face put her oddly at ease.  She timidly reached out and took his
proffered arm.  “That’s better,” he chuckled.  “You see?  I won’t bite.”  He called
over his shoulder as he led the Princess out of the room, “You will soon
receive supper, grandma, and I promise I’ll have her back unharmed within