Read Online Troy 02 - Shield of Thunder by David Gemmell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Gemmell
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raised wooden blocks with a fence of knotted rope between them. The animals seemed calm enough as the voyage began.
Kalliades glanced at Piria. In the bright sunshine her face was tired and pale, the heavy bruises standing out. There was swelling beneath her right eye, and Kalliades saw deep, angry scratches on the skin of her neck. Who are you? he wondered. How is it you know Odysseus?
He had noted her hesitation when speaking of the visits Odysseus had paid to her father. The word “home” had been used in place of something else. What? Farm? Palace? Estate? There was little doubt in Kalliades’ mind that Piria was from a wealthy family. She was staring out to sea, lost in thought and oblivious to his gaze. Kalliades had told the pirate he considered her beautiful. He had said it to deflect the casual insult the man had offered her. Now he realized there was truth in the compliment. How strange, he thought, that the slashing away of her hair should have revealed such beauty. Her neck was long and slender, her profile exquisite. She saw him looking at her, and her gaze hardened, her mouth tightening. Then she turned away from him.
He thought about speaking to her, offering soft words, but decided against it. You have other concerns, he chided himself. Odysseus knew your name. That had been a surprise. Kalliades did not consider himself famous and had no reason to believe his name was known outside areas of Mykene influence. The fact that it was meant the king of Ithaka might also know of the bounty Agamemnon King had placed on his head.
He looked across at Banokles. The man was completely untroubled by thoughts of betrayal or capture. He had wandered down the narrow gap between the enclosure and the rowers and was chatting amiably to the blond sailor Leukon. Banokles had a gift for making friends.
Odysseus called Bias to him, instructing him to take the steering oar. Then the stocky king eased past Piria and moved toward the foredeck. As he came abreast of the enclosure, the largest of the black pigs gave a little grunt and leaned toward him. Odysseus halted and scratched at the beast’s ear. The pig tilted its head up. Odysseus patted it, then moved on to stand beside Nestor. The black pig watched him.
“Always had a way with animals,” Bias said. “Except horses. Worst rider you’ll ever see.”
As the morning wore on, the sun grew warmer and the breeze faded away. Banokles’ warning about the pigs proved false. In fact they were fastidious animals. The floor of their enclosure had been covered with dry grass to soak up any urine, but the animals used only the forward end of their pen to defecate. This was fortunate for those on the aft deck—not so lucky, though, for Nestor and his sons. The elderly ruler was holding a cloth over his nose. Unluckiest of all, however, were the lead oarsmen, whose rowing seats were immediately to the left and right of a growing pile of ordure.
By midafternoon, as the
Penelope
sailed serenely past a cluster of islands, heavy clouds began to form above the ship. The wind picked up. Kalliades glanced at the darkening sky. “Storm brewing?” he asked Bias.
The black man shook his head. “Going to be brisk, though. Not a problem for us. The island yonder is where we are headed.” He pointed to a distant golden mound close to the horizon. “We’ll beach on Titan’s Rock before sunset.”
The
Penelope
was sailing past a group of islands with high cliffs and narrow beaches. In the distance Kalliades saw what appeared to be a fast-moving dark cloud traveling against the wind. He pointed it out to Bias. It was a colossal flock of birds heading out to sea. Just then a school of some twenty or more dolphins burst into sight, leaping and twisting, then swimming at speed past the ship, heading in the same southerly direction as the birds.
“Something has alarmed both fish and fowl,” Bias said.
Someone groaned loudly. The lead rower, Leukon, overcome by the stench of the
Kalliades glanced at Piria. In the bright sunshine her face was tired and pale, the heavy bruises standing out. There was swelling beneath her right eye, and Kalliades saw deep, angry scratches on the skin of her neck. Who are you? he wondered. How is it you know Odysseus?
He had noted her hesitation when speaking of the visits Odysseus had paid to her father. The word “home” had been used in place of something else. What? Farm? Palace? Estate? There was little doubt in Kalliades’ mind that Piria was from a wealthy family. She was staring out to sea, lost in thought and oblivious to his gaze. Kalliades had told the pirate he considered her beautiful. He had said it to deflect the casual insult the man had offered her. Now he realized there was truth in the compliment. How strange, he thought, that the slashing away of her hair should have revealed such beauty. Her neck was long and slender, her profile exquisite. She saw him looking at her, and her gaze hardened, her mouth tightening. Then she turned away from him.
He thought about speaking to her, offering soft words, but decided against it. You have other concerns, he chided himself. Odysseus knew your name. That had been a surprise. Kalliades did not consider himself famous and had no reason to believe his name was known outside areas of Mykene influence. The fact that it was meant the king of Ithaka might also know of the bounty Agamemnon King had placed on his head.
He looked across at Banokles. The man was completely untroubled by thoughts of betrayal or capture. He had wandered down the narrow gap between the enclosure and the rowers and was chatting amiably to the blond sailor Leukon. Banokles had a gift for making friends.
Odysseus called Bias to him, instructing him to take the steering oar. Then the stocky king eased past Piria and moved toward the foredeck. As he came abreast of the enclosure, the largest of the black pigs gave a little grunt and leaned toward him. Odysseus halted and scratched at the beast’s ear. The pig tilted its head up. Odysseus patted it, then moved on to stand beside Nestor. The black pig watched him.
“Always had a way with animals,” Bias said. “Except horses. Worst rider you’ll ever see.”
As the morning wore on, the sun grew warmer and the breeze faded away. Banokles’ warning about the pigs proved false. In fact they were fastidious animals. The floor of their enclosure had been covered with dry grass to soak up any urine, but the animals used only the forward end of their pen to defecate. This was fortunate for those on the aft deck—not so lucky, though, for Nestor and his sons. The elderly ruler was holding a cloth over his nose. Unluckiest of all, however, were the lead oarsmen, whose rowing seats were immediately to the left and right of a growing pile of ordure.
By midafternoon, as the
Penelope
sailed serenely past a cluster of islands, heavy clouds began to form above the ship. The wind picked up. Kalliades glanced at the darkening sky. “Storm brewing?” he asked Bias.
The black man shook his head. “Going to be brisk, though. Not a problem for us. The island yonder is where we are headed.” He pointed to a distant golden mound close to the horizon. “We’ll beach on Titan’s Rock before sunset.”
The
Penelope
was sailing past a group of islands with high cliffs and narrow beaches. In the distance Kalliades saw what appeared to be a fast-moving dark cloud traveling against the wind. He pointed it out to Bias. It was a colossal flock of birds heading out to sea. Just then a school of some twenty or more dolphins burst into sight, leaping and twisting, then swimming at speed past the ship, heading in the same southerly direction as the birds.
“Something has alarmed both fish and fowl,” Bias said.
Someone groaned loudly. The lead rower, Leukon, overcome by the stench of the
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