The Pillars of Hercules (3 page)

“Lugorix,” said Matthias.

Lugorix turned—realized that the others had stopped. Barsine and Damitra were studying a section of the wall while Matthias studied Barsine.

“What are you doing?” said Lugorix.

“Quiet,” said Barsine.

“And keep an eye out,” said Damitra. She fumbled her hands along the wall.

“It’s right here, somewhere,” said Barsine. The shouting was coming closer, along with torchlight…

“They’re coming this way,” said Matthias.

“I didn’t hire you for your tactical analysis,” said Barsine.

“Didn’t realize you’d hired me,” said Matthias.

“Can we talk about this later?” said Lugorix.

“Both of you shut up,” said Barsine. She twisted something in the stone. A section of the wall slide aside.

“Gods preserve us,” said Matthias.

“We need to do that ourselves,” said Barsine. She scrambled through. Everybody followed, to find themselves in a narrow passage. Barsine shut the slab behind them while Damitra re-intensified the glow. They heard the muffled shouting of the Macedonians somewhere behind them. Barsine led the way forward, leaving them all trying to keep up in more ways than one.

“Where in Hades are we?” asked Lugorix.

“Near the harbor,” replied Barsine.

“Wouldn’t we rather be
at
the harbor?” said Matthias. “That’s where the boats are, right?”

“They’ve all been burnt to the waterline by now,” said Barsine. She opened another door, looked out at the room beyond.

“Except that one,” she added.

Chapter Two

T
he ship that sat at the underground jetty wasn’t like any ship Lugorix had ever seen. At first he wasn’t even sure it
was
a ship. It had no mast, rode low in the water, and was a combination of both metal and wood, lacking towers aft and rear, instead sporting a lower, raised platform which ran along its center. A strange cylinder was positioned just behind that platform—and now as Lugorix looked, he realized there
was
in fact a mast, but that it was lying along the deck, fastened horizontally into place along with its sail. The entire vessel was no more than thirty feet from end to end. Damitra helped Barsine down onto the platform, whereupon Barsine opened up a hatch. Both women looked up at the men.

“What are you waiting for?” said Barsine.

“Is this a magick ship?” asked Lugorix.

“Not at all,” said Barsine.

“Persian,” said Matthias, suddenly understanding. “You’re Persian spies.”

“You forget,” said Barsine.
“We
ruled Egypt first.”

“Before Athens took it from you,” muttered Matthias as Barsine climbed through the hatch and disappeared within.

Damitra grinned toothlessly. “Like my lady said: we’re all on the same side now.” She unfastened the ropes and the ship started to drift away. Lugorix and Matthias leapt aboard.

“Welcome to the
Xerxes,
” said Damitra. She tossed her amulet down to Barsine, who caught it—and then shoved it into a strange copper lattice framework set against one of the walls in the compact room below. Sparks flew across that copper and Lugorix felt a rumbling grip the boat. The water behind them started churning and smoke began pouring from the cylinder.

“We’re on fire!” screamed Matthias. Lugorix wasn’t wasting any time on words—he was about to jump into the water when Damitra yelled at him to stop.

“We’re not on fire!” she shouted in his ear. “This ship moves by burning!”

“I see,” said Lugorix, not seeing at all. The boat was surging away from the jetty, out into the hidden harbor. Matthias shrugged, started to climb down through the hatch when—

“No,” said Damitra. “You need to stay on top till we get clear.”

“Of what?” said Lugorix—and then he ducked his head as the roof dipped toward him and the ship churned through a narrow cave-mouth and out into the open ocean. And it
was
the open ocean, he quickly realized—the tunnel entrance was situated well beyond the Great Harbor, out on the northern edge of the main city-island, which was now on fire in multiple places. Even as Lugorix watched, a series of explosions rocked that receding island; pillars and towers began toppling into one another, causing a chain-reaction of deafening booms and crashes. But then all that noise was drowned out by a larger explosion from above. Lugorix looked upward to see the—

“Pharos,” breathed Matthias.

The enormous lighthouse was shaking as though it was in the throes of earthquake—shaking and swaying from side to side. Lugorix thought for a brief moment of all he’d heard about that lighthouse—of how it could its light could be seen by ships for scores of miles
,
of how its operators could stand at its base and use a series of lenses to gain a telescopic view from the top, of how the giant ballistae at its top could punch straight through the sides of enemy ships. But those who were destroying the Pharos had never given it a chance to deploy such measures. For a moment, the lighthouse’s swaying slowed its oscillations—it seemed to Lugorix for just the briefest of instants that the structure would hold against whatever infernal sorcery the Macedonians had unleashed upon it.

Then it started to topple.

Right toward the boat. Lugorix heard himself muttering prayers to Taranis. As if in a dream, he watched that lighthouse blot out the sky as it crashed down toward them. Neither he nor Matthias nor Damitra said a word—he wondered if they as transfixed as he was. Or perhaps they had all already reached the afterlife. Barsine was the only one to react—she stopped the boat entirely, threw the engine into reverse as the lighthouse crashed down toward them, long arcs of fire trailing in its wake. Lugorix’s eye was rooted to the statue of Poseidon that adorned the Pharos’ summit—the trident that the god held had come loose and sailed like a missile over the boat and into the water. And then the lighthouse itself impacted, a huge wall crashing into the ocean, sending up a vast spray of water even as a colossal wave rolled across them, almost capsizing them entirely. Damitra lost her grip; Lugorix grabbed her with one hand while he held fast to the rails with the other. Barsine stopped reversing, sent the boat forward through swells that rocked them as the ship picked up speed, plowing over the final resting place of the Pharos and out into the deeper ocean. Damitra drew herself from Lugorix’s grasp.

“I owe you for your quickness,” she said.

Lugorix was too rattled to reply. They were reaching the edge of the burning Athenian fleet; the
Xerxes
zigged and zagged as Barsine maneuvered it through wreckage. Lugorix gaped as they headed straight at what was left of a trireme, more than a hundred feet long, but now almost burnt to the waterline.

“Those are the smallest of ’em,” muttered Matthias.

“What?”

“Look past it,”
hissed Matthias.

Lugorix nodded, his eyes wide in disbelief. Triremes may have been the most numerous of the ships in the Athenian navy but they only had three decks of oars. Teteres (“fours”) and penteres (“fives”) formed the middle types of dreadnaught, while the largest were the octeres and the deceres, though not much was left of those now. Lugorix remembered seeing a decere once—it seemed like it went on forever, bedecked with flags, held upright in the water by long catamaran-outriggers, and sprouting so many oars as to look like the needles covering a hedgehog, while a whole array of ballistae and catapults lined the decks. Such ships were the mainstay of Athenian naval power. But now a whole fleet had been reduced to a holocaust of flame and wreckage. And as Barsine steered her strange vessel ever deeper into the maelstrom, it became clear that parts of the ocean itself were on fire—that Alexander’s incendiary somehow burnt on the surface of the water. Damitra was muttering something in Persian that Lugorix figured to be a prayer. She was gazing at intently at one spot in particular. Lugorix stared.

And then he realized what she was looking at.

“People,” he said slowly.

Sailors adrift in the water had noticed them, were swimming toward them, screaming for help. But their boat simply accelerated, the paddlewheels within turning ever faster as it churned past. Matthias looked aghast.

“What in Athena’s name are we doing?” he asked.

“Not picking up survivors,” said Damitra.

“Why not?”

“Too great a risk.”

“According to Barsine?”

“She gives the orders.”

Matthias’ face darkened. The yelling was growing louder as stricken sailors realized their last chance was passing them by. Matthias turned to the hatch but—

“No,” said Damitra. “Don’t go down.”

“I need to talk to her.”

“You mean you need to force her.”

“Try and stop me, witch.”

“I’ll
stop you,” said Lugorix suddenly. Matthias whirled toward him.

“What’s
your
problem? Those sailors are—”

“Already dead,” said Lugorix. “Most of them are badly burnt. We stop for any, the rest will swamp us. And even if they don’t, the pursuit has that much more time to catch us.”

“I haven’t
seen
any pursuit yet.”

“We should keep it that way. If anyone climbs aboard, be sure to throw them back in.”

“What?”

“That why we’re up here,” said Lugorix. And then, to Damitra: “True?”

She nodded gravely. “And once we get out of here, you’ll be keeping watch.”

They were leaving the fleet in their wake now, heading out into the swells of open ocean. Spray lit by the glow of the burning boats behind them splashed across their faces. Lugorix grasped the railing, looked at his friend’s bemused expression.

“So where
are
we going?” Matthias asked Damitra.

“Athens,” she replied.

“Why?”

“Mistress has friends there.”

“That’s just fine,” said Lugorix. “Best place to hire out for more merc duty.”

“You’re already hired,” said Damitra.

“You keep saying that,” said Matthias. “But every time I ask for details, Barsine tells me to shut up.”

“That’s because she noble.”

“Nobles abandon sailors to drown?”

“Nobles don’t negotiate with servants,” said Damitra.

Matthias’ laugh was more of a bark.
“You’re
her servant. We’re just along for the ride.”

“She’ll need your help in Athens.”

“For what?”

“Bodyguards.”

“To protect her from who?”

“Mistress has many enemies. Macedonian spies everywhere.”

“Don’t you have powers that help you beat them? That allow you to see ’em?”

“I see them closing in. And you saw what they did to Egypt.”

“But Egypt is just one province,” said Lugorix. “Athens is the capital. Biggest fortress in the world. Impossible to take by storm—”

“They may not need to take it by storm.”

There was a long pause.

“But you need to help mistress,” she added.

“She’ll need to pay,” replied Matthias.”

“She will.”

“Will she?”

“She’s very rich.”

“Now we’re talking.”

“Now keep watch.”

“What?”

But Damitra was already climbing below. Matthias watched her go, then turned to Lugorix.

“You believe any of that?”

Lugorix pondered this. “What part of it don’t you?” he asked.

“The part about her being so damn rich.”

“She owns this boat, doesn’t she?”

“Doesn’t mean she has gold somewhere.”

“She’s noble.”

“Are you some kind of parrot?
Once
she was noble. Persian Empire doesn’t mean shit now. Not since Alexander got through with it.”

“Well,” said Lugorix thoughtfully, “looks like the Persians still got some kind of operation going. And anyone with a boat like this might have a hefty payday waiting for us.”

“Are you crazy? This bitch is trouble.”

“That’s what you say about anyone you have a crush on.”

Matthias snorted.
“I
have a crush on
her?
Zeus man!
She’s
the one with the crush on
me
.”

“She does an excellent job disguising it.”

“She’s an aristo. They’re good at playing hard to get.”

“You need to quit while you’re ahead, Greek.” Lugorix sensed he wasn’t getting through to him, but figured it was worth a shot. “She already got us out of that Mack-infested hellhole. If she can get us gold, so much the better. But I doubt you’ll get a slice of her into the bargain.”

“Remember how I told you I was saving myself?”

“Get ready to wait a long time.”

Matthias nodded ruefully. “Waiting’s all we can do right now anyway.”

Lugorix knew that Matthias was right. The hours slid by and the water washed across them and gradually the glow behind them disappeared into the night. Stars shone above them, sprinkling illumination across the waves. Lugorix felt like those stars were hauling him up into the sky—like that water was dragging him under. The last few hours seemed like one big crazy dream. He realized dimly that he was beyond exhausted.

“Time for sleep,” said a voice.

He whirled. Damitra stood there. Matthias stretched and started for the hatch.

“Not you,” she said, gesturing at Lugorix. “Him.”

“What about me?”

“You stand guard till dawn.”

“That’s still hours off!”

“If you see anything—anything at all—call down.”

Matthias nodded slowly. Lugorix climbed down into the cramped control-room of the strange craft, Damitra following him. In addition to that humming copper lattice, there were levers and gears all around, and he didn’t understand any of it. He expected to see Barsine at the helm, peering through one of the viewing slits. But instead she was asleep in a cot in the corner, curled up, her knees against her stomach. Damitra had taken her place at the helm—and now she pointed to a hatch aft-side.

“Sleep there,” she said.

“What
is
this ship?” he asked.

She seemed about to tell him to get stuffed. But then her face softened. “Long-range explorer,” she said.