Read Online The Pillars of Hercules by David Constantine - Free Book Online

“No one gets into this city without being permitted. The postern gate let us through because they were expecting us. How is it that you’re not?” Lugorix was starting to realize she had a limited sense of tact—one more trait that seemed to be endemic to nobility. Callias’ face darkened and a vein on his forehead began to pulse.
    “Have it your way,” he said. “I’m impounding your vessel. Seize them.” One of his guards started forward but—
    “Touch her and you’ll lose that hand,” said Matthias, drawing his xiphos .
    “Touch me and you’ll lose your head,” said the guard as he drew his own sword—only to recoil as Lugorix hefted Skullseeker. The other guards eyed the axe nervously.
    “Put your weapons away,” snapped Barsine. “Why are men always so eager to fight?”
    Matthias reluctantly sheathed his xiphos —and Lugorix lowered his axe, albeit without any of his friend’s reluctance. He knew that if it came to combat, they could slaughter these guards—but once the alarm had been sounded, they’d be meat. Callias looked at Barsine, his eyes narrowing. His guards had kept their weapons out.
    “You’re Persian, aren’t you?” said Callias as though this explained everything.
    “Yes,” she replied.
    “I’d have thought Persian spies could think of better schemes to get themselves into the city.”
    “I’m not a spy,” said Barsine calmly.
    “Oh? Then what are you?”
    “She’s with me,” said a voice.
    Everybody whirled to see a heavyset man standing on the dock, dressed in the garb of an Athenian sailor. The guards in front of him whipped out their swords and pointed them at his throat, but he didn’t seem worried. He just looked down at Callias.
    “Harbormaster,” he said. “I’ve orders to take this ship into custody and waive all harbor-fees and duties.”
    Callias’ face was a study in incredulity. “Who the hell are you?”
    “Here are the orders.”
    He handed a scroll down to Callias, who unfurled it and began to read. He’d only got a few lines in before his eyes widened. When he looked up, his expression was contrition mingled with what Lugorix could have sworn was fear.
    “Of course,” he said. “Of course. She’s all yours.” He climbed back onto the dock, and his guards went with him. As he passed the newcomer, a thought seemed to occur to him.
    “Where do you plan to keep this boat?”
    “That’s of no concern to you.”
    “Anything in the harbor is.”
    The man laughed scornfully. “And here you are talking like you’re chief harbormaster! Shall we go wake him up and see what he thinks of your insisting on inventorying this vessel?”
    “I’m not insisting on anything. I just wish to know if you’re—”
    “—planning on keeping her in the harbor? No. Now get lost.”
    Like any good bureaucrat, Callias knew when he was beaten. He left with his guards, intent on preserving what was left of his dignity. The interloper watched him go, then hopped down onto the boat. Ignoring Matthias and Lugorix, he bowed to Barsine.
    “I’m Theramenes,” he said. “At your service.”
    “But you still haven’t answered the question,” said Barsine.
    Theramenes raised one eyebrow. “My lady?”
    “Where do we put the boat?”
    “In the canals,” replied Theramenes.
     
    It was like the sea was made of buildings—like the ship was sailing on roads. Except there was still water beneath them. Lugorix couldn’t stop staring at the lantern-bedecked windows passing mere meters from his face. He gazed at his reflection in the water, marveled at the occasional bridge that swept above them. He would have thought they would have been seen by everyone as they made their way through these canals, but they were in the industrial part of town. Most of the workers had gone home for the night. Those that did spot them assumed they were merely one more Athenian warship being towed through the canal, rising through lock after lock: strange segmented areas where