The Vampire Megapack. Nina Kiriki Hoffman

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СКАЧАТЬ beneath so that it looked as if the sky were afire.

      “Then steer for the island until the captain tells you otherwise,” Sant-Germainus recommended, then collapsed to his knees.

      “YNAY!” Khafir-Amun bellowed as he reached to seize Sant-Germainus’ oar. “Take Sant-Germainus below and send up another steersman!”

      It was Dvlinoh who answered the summons, shoving through the bailers and keeping hold of the safety-rope as he came to the after-deck. He gave Sant-Germainus a thoughtful stare. “Is he alive?” He did not wait for Khafir-Amun to answer, but leaned forward and unlocked the manacles. “Hang on until I come back. I’ll take his place at the oar, and the Captain may say what he likes.” Without another word, he slung Sant-Germainus over his shoulder and made his way back to the hold.

      * * * *

      Sant-Germainus opened his eyes; he was still cold and groggy, but he could feel the day waning above him, and although the hold stank of rotting cargo, unwashed bodies, and the effluvia of confinement, it was preferable to being on deck in the fading sunlight. He tried to move and almost fell out of the narrow bunk in which he had been sleeping as the ship weltered through choppy water; he muttered an oath in his native tongue and heard Rutgeros answer.

      “So you are awake, my master,” he said in old-fashioned Latin.

      “I am,” Sant-Germainus responded. “Where are we?”

      “We are coming into a small harbor on Dhenoussa. Khafir-Amun found it about an hour ago. It is a small cove on the south side of the island. There are two long crests through the island, one in a straight line, the other curved; the inlet is in the last curve of that second crest. Approaching it is proving difficult: the seas are still high, and we cannot use the sail, and the oarsmen are being cautious not to splinter their oars on hidden rocks.”

      “Did Khafir-Amun have any more information about the island?” Sant-Germainus asked, wanting to concentrate on something other than his discomforts.

      “There is no spring on the island, or so the sailors say, so we will have to get water from cisterns on the island, which should be full after such a storm as we have had, assuming the shepherds and fishermen will allow us to have enough for our needs,” said Rutgeros. “Also, there is a monastery on the north end of the island; the fishermen are on the south side, so there should be food available somewhere. The monks should be charitable at this time of year, for their faith.”

      “Assuming the captain is willing to pay for it,” said Sant-Germainus sardonically.

      “Alas, I fear he has other plans; he intends to seize what he wants and to leave the island before anyone knows we have come.” Rutgeros bent down to offer the support of his arm. “And speaking of the captain, I have informed him of the severity of your sea-sickness so he will not expect you to ask for food.”

      “Prudent of you, old friend,” said Sant-Germainus with a rueful smile. “Not that I am not ravenous.”

      “As is the rest of the crew,” said Rutgeros. “If the captain had decided to make for Thera without taking on food and water, there would have been mutiny.”

      “Or a dead crew,” said Sant-Germainus flatly; he would hate to have to drift in a damaged ship with nothing but decaying bodies and only Rutgeros for company.

      “The captain is greedy and foolish, but he knows he could lose everything, including his life, if he starves his oarsmen.”

      “I should hope so; his men must know it,” said Sant-Germainus. He managed to squeeze out of the bunk and get to his feet, but he discovered his head still ached and his strength was at low ebb.

      “Hold steady,” Rutgeros recommended in Byzantine Greek as he offered the support of his arm to Sant-Germainus; there were other men near them who were listening to their conversation and would be suspicious of what they did not understand. “I discovered one of your chests in the cargo hold, the only one they took from the Morning Star. Apparently the straps and locks intrigued the captain; he couldn’t get it open, and so he brought it aboard, hoping he will find treasure inside.”

      “And so he shall, if only he knew it,” said Sant-Germainus drily, still speaking the Latin of five hundred years ago. “If the earth is not soaked, I will take advantage of having it here once we are safe in harbor.”

      “You might have to wait until the crew is sleeping,” Rutgeros pointed out.

      “Which most will do, with only a few put on watch through the night. They will not notice what I do, if I am cautious,” said Sant-Germainus.

      “I could attend to it for you,” Rutgeros volunteered.

      “It may come to that,” said Sant-Germainus as he looked toward the open hold where the ladder was beginning to shake; someone was climbing down. “We will make our decisions in this regard later.”

      “A very good notion,” said Rutgeros. He stepped back as a middle-aged man with Greek features but dressed in Syrian finery came into the hold. “Captain Argourus,” he said, effacing himself.

      “I see you are awake,” said the captain, ignoring Rutgeros and addressing Sant-Germainus; he fingered his curled beard, his lower lip protruding. “May God give you a good day on the Eve of His Nativity.” He made a great show of signing himself. “On this day, we must all be doubly thankful.”

      “He may have provided our deliverance, more or less.” He indicated the pitch and roll of the ship. “We are not safely anchored yet.”

      “Can you doubt it, on this of all evenings?” Captain Argourus pointed directly at Sant-Germainus. “Do you question His mercy? You will tempt God to allow the sea to swallow you.”

      “The last few days have been demanding, yet I am still here.” Sant-Germainus steadied himself by holding onto the edge of the top bunk of the tier; his Byzantine Greek was impeccable, but slightly accented. “I do not know if this is because of fate or chance or the season; the Christians in this crew must have effective prayers at this time.” He paused and added, “If there is reason for thanks, then I am thankful.”

      Captain Argourus regarded him narrowly, then decided not to make an issue of it. “You did well, they tell me. You kept us from going completely off course. We wouldn’t have made this landfall without your seamanship.”

      “You are most generous to say so, but it was more luck and the whim of the sea that brought us safely through the heart of the storm,” said Sant-Germainus, keeping most of the irony from his voice; only the arch of one fine brow suggested any mordant intent.

      The captain studied Sant-Germainus for a long while, and again chose not to argue. “Do you know this island: Dhenoussa?”

      “I have passed it many times, but I do not know it. This is the first time I have landed on its shores.” He did not add that except for his first voyage to Egypt roughly two thousand years before, in the past he had been in the hold of his ship, atop his chests of his native earth, in a stupor, not struggling on deck, chained to an oar.

      “But you are not adverse to going ashore,” Captain Argourus said.

      “No, I am not,” said Sant-Germainus, who was eager to have earth beneath his feet, and the chance to find an animal—a goat or a sheep would do—to allow him to ease his hunger.

      “Good. СКАЧАТЬ