Contact: Phineas_Redux@yahoo.com
—OOO—
Description:— Xena and Gabrielle are travelling on a bireme and discover a lost ship out at sea; a very particular vessel of its kind, very famous today . You've always wondered what happened to it? Wonder no more—Xena and Gabrielle were there!
Disclaimer :— MCA/Universal/RenPics own all copyrights to everything related to ‘ Xena: Warrior Princess ' and I have no rights to them.
This is the 5 th in the ‘ Xena's Exploits ' series—
1. Xena and the Island Fortress.
3. Gabrielle on the Chalcis Ferry.
—O—
“Ho there, you. Yes, you, you scum, get forrard an' scandalize the mainsail. An' don't forget t'trice the tack first. Dam' longshoremen, no idea o'sailin' whatever. A one-eyed three-legged dog'd do better.”
On the foredeck of the large bireme Xena and Gabrielle stood together just short of the bow, listening to the captain shouting orders, with the rows of oarsmen hidden under the deck beneath their feet. Not that these men were at work at the moment, a strong sea breeze filling the single centrally placed sail to full effect. All round only a receding series of white-capped low waves disappeared into the distance to finally be lost on the far horizon of the wide empty ocean. They were, in fact, in the middle of the southern Aegean Sea.
“What did he just say?”
“Haven't a clue.” The Warrior Princess affected disdain. “Not a sailor, am I? Why ask me?”
“Thought you'd know, that's all.” The blonde Amazon remained unruffled, sensing an opportunity. “Expected it'd be one of those, oh so often mentioned, many skills y'keep tellin' everyone you're mistress of. Not that I've seen much evidence of you bein' mistress of any particular activity, if you want the truth.”
“ Har, Har,—Ho, Ho. ” The black-haired one sneered derisively. “Just you wait; I'll get ya back for that—sometime, somewhere. Keep lookin' over your shoulder, blondie.”
“Watch it, lady.” Gabrielle was somewhat tetchy about this nickname. “I've told you before, an' I ain't shy enough not t'tell you again—one more time with the ‘ Blondie ' crack an' you'll feel the rough edge of my tongue.”
“ Oooeer! Say, is that a promise? Tonight, maybe?”
“Idiot.”
“ Ho , on deck there; ship on the port tack, near the horizon. I see its sails.”
This call caught the attention of the short stocky form of the captain, who instantly stopped what he was doing—berating a group of crewmen who were supposedly involved in mysterious activities concerning the spare yardarm—to stride over to join the two women forrard of the mast, with its sail billowing above their heads.
“A sighting, eh?” He did not sound happy. “Couldn't be a pirate. Not out here, in the middle of nowhere; but y'never know.”
With this he turned his head to yell at a tall man standing further down near the midpart of the ship.
“Niarchus, have the men ready an' armed. Give out the swords from the armoury. Make it quick. Ladies, what d'ya think?”
Thus addressed the women hurriedly took individual stock of their knowledge of distant specks of white on a far watery horizon. They both came up empty.
“Not for me t'say, captain.” Xena valiantly tried to pass the responsibility. “I'm sure you have it all under control.”
“Did the look-out say sails ?” Gabrielle, her Amazon training coming to her aid, was more specifically focussed. “Doesn't that mean more than one ship?”
“That's a fair point, ma'am. Gim'me a moment.” The captain turned and raised his head to the small barrel-like position three-quarters of the way up the mast, above the sail yardarm, where the lonely look-out had his post. “Hey, you. What's that y'see? How many ships? How far off, an' what direction are they sailin'? Gods , I do so hope they ain't got the weather-gage. Which way's the wind blowin', anyone?”
Neither woman replied; both being firmly under the impression he was likely to be the best judge of this question. The look-out cut into their train of thought at this delicate juncture, however.
“How many? One, I should say? What else? I can make out three sails—but they're so dam' close t'gether they must be on the one vessel.”
“Dammed idiot.” The captain wasn't having any of this kind of sloppy thinking. “Who ever heard of a ship with three sails? Man must be drunk. Where in Hades did he get wine, I wonder? Ho there, fool! Three sails means three ships. Which direction are they sailin'? Gods , do so hope he ain't sufferin' from sunstroke.”
“Too far off t'tell their direction. Just three white specks, very close t'gether—right on the brow o'the horizon.”
This in no way calmed the captain, who was obviously looking for more precise information.
“Gods, lot's o'detail, that tell's us dam' all.” He brushed a gnarled hand over his brow and returned to the fray. “Three sail? Y'sure? How far apart are they? I tell you, ladies, if he sticks with the one-ship motif I'll climb up there an' kick him into the sea myself.”
“Wait a bit. Wait—Wait—Wai—”
“ Ares' Balls! What, man? What?”
“She's turnin'. She's turnin',—in our direction, I think. Yeah, there's only one sail now, an' I can see more of it. I fancy she's comin' our way. Sail seems a trifle larger than before.”
“ Oh Gods—Oh Gods—Oh Gods .” The captain had obviously decided just what the approaching vessel meant. “Niarchus, how's that arming the crew goin'? Hurry it up, anyway. Look's like we may have a fight on our hands, ladies. A pirate, for sure. Can't be anything else.”
In this situation Xena came into her own, standing tall and firm on the boat's deck; her blonde companion staunch by her side. She glanced over the low bulwark of the bireme to the horizon, but they were too low in the water to see any sign yet of the approaching vessel.
“Perhaps we should wait till we're nearer, captain.” She spoke with a low commanding growl. “It may turn out t'be something entirely innocent, y'know. No use gettin' excited about nothin'. How long till we come up with it?”
This request brought the nervous captain to a sharp halt, while he thought about it.
“I'd say around one and a half turns of the small sandglass. Yeah, about that'd be the thing.” He nodded, acknowledging his own opinion. “If we stay on our course, at the same speed, that is; an' he, whoever the Hades he may be, stays on his.”
“Time enough for you to prepare, captain.” Gabrielle nodded sagely. “Remember, you have some fifty men aboard, all armed with sharp swords. That's a strong enough opposition t'make the hardiest pirate think twice—especially out here in the wild wastes. Once he sees your strength, an' Xena yells at him for a while, he'll likely see the error of his ways, an' turn tail like a hyena.”
“Oh, I do hope so. I do.” With this rather weak response the short man turned on his heel back towards the ship's stern. “Excuse me, ladies. Have t'bring our sail round; get closer t'the wind—give us a better chance in a run for it, y'see.”
Leaving this parting shot to confound the two warrior women he set off to the stern at a fast trot. Xena and Gabrielle remaining mystified.
“Get closer t'the wind?” Gabrielle pondered this, frowning deeply. “What does he mean? Closer, how? It's already blowin' all round us, as it is.”
“Some sort'a technical seaman's jargon.” Xena sniffed imperiously. “I wouldn't bother with it. What we got'ta worry about is whether this approaching ship is for us, or against us. Y'ready for a fight?”
“Alongside you, lover, always.” Gabrielle grinned calmly, shaking her head in a manner which caught her companion's whole attention. “We've got, as you said, a complement that'll easily outnumber any small pirate vessel.”
The women remained where they were, though now a certain amount of excited activity was beginning to show itself in the number of crew who had appeared, armed with vicious looking short gladius's. Then Xena returned to an intriguing point about the still invisible oncoming vessel.
“Can't actually be all that small; if the lookout up there saw it way off on the horizon.” The black-haired warrior scratched her chin in thought. “Supposes a ship of some size, don't ya think?”
“ Uur , maybe.”
“And this thing about the sails; three?” Xena mused on this for a while; the wind wafting her long hair about her face. “The lookout sounded as if he knew what he was talkin' about; three sail? Three ships? One ship?”
“Can't be one; y'heard what the captain said—impossible.”
“Maybe, maybe.” Xena turned to regard the blonde woman beside her reflectively. “But if not, what then?”
“I don't understand?”
All round them the long deck of the bireme was now filled with many of the crew who usually sat at the oars. Contrary to the received popular opinion these were not shackled slaves, but freemen working for a wage—in their case, because of the stubborn and protracted negotiations of the working-men's association to which they all belonged, a remarkably high wage. If nothing else they were perfectly capable of defending the source of their wealth, against pirates, or anyone else.
“The lookout saw the ship when it was hull-down over the horizon.” Xena suddenly dropped her relaxed attitude, and became the sharp-minded mistress of a rapidly approaching possible battle. “The sails showed above the horizon; that means the ship had a tall mast, or masts. Which means it is, logically, a large vessel—perhaps some sort'a trireme, or maybe even one of those crazy giant vessels the Romans have started building.”
“ Hades , if it's one of those it could be carrying what, maybe two hundred or more men?” Gabrielle was appalled by this likelihood. “I saw one in harbour at Naples a few months ago; you're right, they're bloody huge. Y'think that's what this ship is?”
“Could be. But don't let's get ahead of ourselves. Wait till we see the thing. Shouldn't be long now.”
The armed crew had settled down into several groups, all fixedly gazing over to the horizon on the port bow. The captain was standing by the steersmen at the stern; the rudder-arm between them, and the sternpost itself bending high over their shoulders behind them. The sky was eggshell blue across the board, with the breeze blowing steadily from the North-West. The bireme was making a fair speed, with its single large sail set aslant the mast—the tip of the yardarm pointing to the sky just under the lookout's position higher still.
“She's hull-up. I see her, plain as daylight.” This from the lookout, in an excited tremolo. “One ship, two masts, sorry; two sail—no, in fact, several more; there's a number o'sails on each mast; sort'a horizontal t'the mast on the mainmast, not like ours. The aft sails on the other mast are lateen-rigged, though, like ours. She's fallen off the wind a trifle, on our port beam now, maybe a parasang off. Y'll see her f'sure, in half a glass or so.”
The captain, still in an undecided frame of mind, had returned to stand beside the women.
“Bloody idiot; he's certainly sufferin' from sunstroke.” He shook his head, dismally. “I don't wan'na make a scene in front o'the crew; so I'll just quietly send Praxis t'relieve the poor demented fool in a short while, when we can see the ship ourselves. That'll settle everything; sure t'be a small pirate craft. We ought'ta be able t'hold our own against it, I'm thinkin'.”
—O—
It was, in fact, only around a third of a sandglass later when Xena, standing proud on the bow by the soaring curved stem, turned to Gabrielle with a tight grin.
“I see it. Over there, look. Just cutting above the horizon. See?”
“Yeah, I got it.” The Amazon shaded her eyes with one hand, as she searched the far distance. “Hades, it does have a tall mast, an' there is more'n one; the lookout was right. How big d'you think it is? I don't think it's one of those giant Roman boats, though.”
“Nah, something else entirely.” Xena too had been giving the slowly approaching vessel a sharp examination. “You can see its hull now. Don't appear t'be any oar-stations; an' she's sitting dam' high in the water. About half a cable long, I'd say. Y'noticed its strange bow? Never seen anything like that before. You?”
Gabrielle paused before answering, giving the approaching boat all her attention. Finally she shook her head.
“It's a new one on me.” She glanced at Xena inquisitively. “Not Spartan, or Roman, I'd say. Carthaginian, maybe?”
“Hardly.” The Warrior Princess sniggered quietly. “Y'll be tellin' me next it might be Assyrian.”
“Fool. Hey, see, the lookout was right enough. There's a mass of different sails, right up both masts, and some goin' from the mainmast t'the bow—in fact out over the bow; slanted sails, like ours. D'you think they all make her go faster?”
The tall black-haired warrior took a long slow glance at the petite woman beside her, a gentle smile slowly forming on her lips.
“Y'know, darlin', that might well be the answer. How'd y'think o'that?”
“ Gods , Princesses, there's no livin' with ‘em.”
Gabrielle took herself off to the other side of the bow, trying to get a better view of the now clearly visible ship heading their way.
“She ain't got either a stern or bow stem.” The blonde scratched her chin musingly. “Ain't ever seen a large sea-going ship without fore an' aft stems. An' a dam' high freeboard, too.”
“She ain't from this part of the world, that's for sure.”
The Warrior Princess hadn't taken her eyes from the vessel since it had approached near enough to be clearly seen from the bireme's deck. Now all the crew were standing by the bulwarks, giving their opinions on the strange craft in low growls to each other.
“I don't see any crew aboard her.” Xena glanced towards the Amazon. “You? Anywhere on her deck?”
“No, no,—nobody.” Gabrielle was about to say something else but paused suddenly. “Wait, though—yes. Right at the stern; a man in a long dark cloak an' helmet. He's standin' by another man—beside some piece of equipment. The second man, he's wearin' a white shirt, I think, is holdin' onto the thing. I can't make out what it's all about.”
The captain came up at this moment; probably seeking advice, though he was in the habit of going about this obliquely.
“She's heading in the opposite direction t'us.” He scratched his stubbly chin. “On the opposite tack. Suppose we'll need'ta haul round t'approach him. Well, he ain't a pirate—though quite what he is, I don't know. You, ladies?”
“Whatever he is, I think he's in trouble.” Gabrielle turned to the captain with a frown of concern. “See, he's wavin' an' makin' gestures. I think he wants our assistance. Can you turn your bireme about an' come alongside him?”
“Oh, nothin' easier, ma'am.” He nodded with assurance. “Won't take but half a mo', if that. See, there's a few more men about her deck now; haulin' down some o'those sails at last—which I'm dam' glad of, or we'd never make up t'him. Seems a dam' fast ship. OK, you bunch o' bums, get those halyards unloosed. I want the sail hauled about in record time, so move those asses, boys. Dam' sailors; these ain't sailors, these're pensioned-off has-beens. Come on, move yerselves, fer Athena's sake.”
—O—
The strange vessel had lost almost all its forward momentum, with the lowering of most of its many sails. Now it sat virtually motionless on the water about half a cable's length from the bireme. At this short distance it could be seen the ship was around twice the length of the bireme, and almost three times as broad. Its two masts soared twice as high as the bireme's; and the long slanted sails, reaching forward over the long yardarm which leant out ahead of the bow, gave the ship even more length. The stern was flat, looking out of place without a long high curving stem-post or rudder-arms coming up over the aft deck. It could now be seen that the crew numbered very few; only a handful, in fact. Near the stern the two previously noticed men continued at their stations; something telling the warrior women the tall man in the dark cloak and curious hat was the vessel's captain; while the white-shirted man beside him appeared to be controlling some sort of large wooden wheel with many spokes. Soon the bireme captain had manoeuvred his vessel to within half a cable's-length of the other ship and communication could proceed.
“ Hoy , there, who are you? Need help?”
The captain's stertorous shout carried easily over the intervening stretch of choppy waves to the mysterious vessel. The opposing captain, standing by the stern of his ship, put a hand to his mouth and replied in kind.
“Lost our position; our navigation instruments washed overboard; couple of my men injured. Binnacle's not working properly.” His voice was not as deep as the bireme captain's, but had carrying power enough for the occasion. “If you give me my position, on my charts, I'll be thankful. Will you come aboard?”
At this juncture the bireme captain turned to the women, ruffling his thick hair with a horny hand.
“Should I go, d'ye think?” He cast a suspicious glance over the water at the other ship. “Never seen anything like it; not a pirate certainly, but, all the same?”
“We'll all go.” Xena knew when definitive action was necessary. “It's a curious situation. I'll be interested t'learn what the other captain's doing.”
“An' what kind'a vessel that really is.” Gabrielle stared over the waves with raised brows. “I know I'm curious. Shall we take your small boat, captain?”
—O—
The bireme's boat, only about two person's length long and just broad enough for three or four passengers, bobbed quickly over the relatively calm sea under the power of the two short oars wielded by a seaman. In a short time it had reached the tall side of the other vessel and a rope ladder had been thrown down. An instant later the bireme captain, Xena, and Gabrielle stood on the strange ship's deck.
“Good morning, Benjamin Briggs, captain of the brigantine ‘ Mary Celeste ', at your service.” The man seemed to be in his mid thirties, quite tall and thin, with a long face and a short beard that edged his jaw in a thin line before spreading out into a small goatee. “I'm glad to see you, friends; my navigation sextant and other items were washed overboard a day ago. We met a giant waterspout that pretty well knocked us into a cocked hat. My Mate, Mr Richardson, was seriously hurt; this here's my Second Mate, Mr Gilling.”
The fact that he seemed to put strong emphasis on the friendship between himself and certain of the crew intrigued all three visitors, though none remarked openly on this detail.
“Aristides, of Phalerum; captain of the bireme ‘ Alcyone '. My friends, Xena of Phalerum and Gabrielle of Potidais.” The bireme captain looked his counterpart up and down curiously. “I don't recognise your style of clothing, friend. From some distant polis, no doubt.”
“America, heading to Genoa, Italy, via the Azores.” Briggs nodded, surveying his visitors with just as much interest as Aristides had shown. He seemed most affected by the two women. “Your, er , lady companions are, er , unusually dressed. Some special style I have not yet come across. Are you Greek? You speak English well.”
All three, having stared their fill at their strange surroundings, focussed on the captain with renewed interest.
“Don't know about this America place; never heard of such.” Aristides shook his head, frowning slightly. “Nothing out of the ordinary in the way my esteemed lady passengers are dressed, that I can see. Your dress, on the other hand is very unusual; never seen a long cloak like that; goin' down t'your knees, an' fastened at the front with that line of—what are those fastenings, hooks an' catches? An' you speak Greek uncommonly well, on your part, if I may say.”
“I'm not speaking Greek; I'm speaking English.”
“We're speaking Greek, mister, an' what we're listening t'you reply is Greek too.” Gabrielle horned into the conversation here, as was her wont; though she tempered her remark with a gentle smile. “You're speaking pure Greek, with maybe a slight Ephesian accent, if anything. What's this English thing, anyway?”
“My language, madam.” Briggs was now glancing from his visitors across to the long hull of the bireme, and back again with an expression of doubt. “And I can assure you I'm not speaking Greek; don't know a word of the language, I'm afraid. Anyway, if you would be so good as to confirm our present position, I'd be mighty glad. The sooner I sail my ship into port the sooner I'll be able to get help for the two injured crewmen below. A sextant reading would be sufficient; but if you have your latest longitude positions, I'd be grateful.”
Another pause ensued, while Aristides glanced at his female companions. An exchange of looks made it plain that none of the three had any idea of what the newly arrived captain was talking about. But, not to be outdone, Aristides scratched his chin and attempted to arrive at a solution.
“If it's your present position you're in need of, friend, we-elll .” He looked from Xena to Gabrielle; took a quick glance back over the water to his own ship; then regarded the mystery captain with a straight eye. “I'm sailin' by the stars; a few sun-readings each day; an' the loadstone an' needle I have by the rudder-arm. We've been at sea for three days, havin' left the island of Melos behind us; an' should be makin' port in Crete in another day. We're at present on a south-west course, if that's any help.”
“Melos—Crete?” Briggs stepped back a pace, regarding his visitors in dismay. “That simply can't be right. We've just crossed the Atlantic, from New York, on course for Gibraltar and eventually the port of Genoa. We certainly haven't reached the Straits yet; never mind penetrated as far east as the Aegean. In fact we only sighted the outlying islands of the Azores yesterday morning, just before the waterspout struck. You must be wrong, captain. And, may I ask, just what kind of ship your vessel is? I've never seen anything like it before. And also, If I may make a personal remark, I find these ladies to be dressed in anything but a proper manner. I find I must ask you about your antecedents, if this conversation is to continue on a basis of one gentleman to another.”
Briggs' expression made it plain to Aristides, Xena, and Gabrielle that he was in deadly earnest. His cold reply took the three in differing ways. Aristides merely looked nonplussed, as well he might. Xena frowned darkly and took a step forward, the hilt of her sword shifting in its sheath over her right shoulder. Gabrielle grasped the warrior's wrist to hold her in check, but also frowned at the description of her own attire as given by the captain. With Briggs' sudden realisation, which he had hitherto not noticed, that the women were armed—a lethal-looking sword in Xena's case, and daggers tied to the outsides of Gabrielle's boots,—there now appeared an unmistakable aura of mistrust and suspicion on the wide deck. But this was wafted aside as the door of a large deckhouse nearby opened to reveal the figure of a young woman, who glided swiftly across to stand by the side of Captain Briggs.
Glided because, to the eyes of Xena and Gabrielle, her ground-length all-encompassing wide skirt hid all view of her body below the waist. Even her chest was hidden from waist to neck by the all-covering nature of her dress; only her face and hands being exposed to view. Both Xena and Gabrielle were intrigued by this overall wrapping; especially as the weather was warm, with the sun beaming down from a cloudless sky.
“Hi'ya, lady. Ain't ya hot in that get-up?” Xena, as usual, stepped right in where mighty Goddesses would generally fear to tread.
“Madam, you are talking to my wife.” Briggs sputtered in anger. “I'll have you refrain from personal remarks, if you please. Particularly as, in your attire, if indeed it can have the dignity of being so described, I hardly think you or your companion are ones to criticise others.”
The situation might here have developed into a classic Scythian stand-off, but the lady grasped her husband's arm and smiled widely at her visitors.
“Allow me to introduce myself; Sarah Briggs, wife of Captain Briggs.” She spoke with a soft gentle accent, which erased any hint of earlier anger or resentment on her listeners' parts. “This is the first time I have voyaged with my husband; and, I must say, it has been a most extraordinary passage so far. Did I catch your names, ladies?”
“She's Xena; I'm Gabrielle. Glad t'meet you.” The Amazon Queen was nothing if not up on the niceties of genteel Greek social intercourse. “ Ah, er , this is a fine ship y'have here. New design, I take it?”
“New design?” Captain Briggs rested a querulous eye on the small frame of the strange woman before him. “Nothing unusual about it, ma'am. An ordinary brigantine, of some three hundred tons. Present name ‘ Mary Celeste '; previously the ‘ Amazon ', out of Spencer's Island, Nova Scotia. Cargo of, er , chemicals, this voyage. If I may take the same liberty, on my part—why are you both dressed so strangely and, um , unbecomingly; and what is that, ahh , antique-looking boat you appear to command. Are they, indeed, rowers over there?”
“Nova Scotia? What island's that? Never heard o'it till now.” Xena raised a dark eyebrow, with something less than an appreciative expression.
“Antique? Antique ?” Aristides grew crimson in the face, and proceeded to dance from one foot to the other in his anger.
“How about we all take deep breaths, eh?” Gabrielle took command of the rapidly deteriorating situation, like the Queen she was. “Deep breaths. Remember, we're all friends here. Nothin' t'get heated over. So our clothes are different; so our boats are, er , not quite the ordinary thing. Let's all just be friends; wha'd'you say, Mrs Briggs?”
“I say I agree with you, young lady.” Sarah nodded firmly, and grasped the sleeve of her husband's jacket firmly. “Benjamin, if you please? They are our visitors, after all.”
Assaulted on all sides by this wave of determination not to be enemies with him, the stocky upright, and somewhat rigidly-natured, man admitted defeat; covering his wife's hand with his own; and even venturing a twist of the lips which, in a good light, might generously be described as a smile.
“Well, we seem to have gotten off to a bad start.” He shrugged his shoulders, under the long heavy coat he wore, and nodded briefly. “Will you accompany me below, to my day-cabin. We can discuss the situation more comfortably there. And my wife may even stretch to a cup of tea, I believe.”
“Of course, Benjamin.” Sarah indicated the direction the visitors should take, across the crowded deck with its piles of coiled ropes and miscellaneous objects. “Benjamin will escort you while I see to the refreshments.”
Xena and Gabrielle walked on at the heels of the captain of the strange vessel, with Aristides close beside them, still emitting growls of disapproval and unhappiness—after all, be it what it may, no man likes to hear his command miscalled as ‘ antique ' for no good reason.
—O—
The cabin turned out to be built, to the visitors' eyes at least, on a massive scale. It stretched across the whole width of the ship, with two portholes on each side; a door in the rear wall leading to the unseen stern cabin. There were chairs, and a long deal table, covered in a flowery cloth, in the centre of which was a silver bowl with silk flowers in bright colours. Everywhere, wood and metal seemed polished to within an inch of their lives; while a certain cosiness exuded from every part of the room's other sparse furnishings.
Captain Briggs gestured to the newly arrived visitors to take seats at the table; but not without, obviously compelled by his curiousity and still strongly felt misgivings, further questioning of their personal habits.
“ er , may I ask why it is felt necessary to come aboard a friendly vessel, armed to the teeth with edged weapons?” He pointed a long bony finger at Xena in particular, as everyone sat, some more cautiously than others, at the table. “You, ma'am; a sword in a sheath on your back? Is that really a requirement? I should have thought the sight of the American flag at our masthead, as you came over, would have been evidence enough of our friendly intentions to one and all. And you, ma'am; daggers strapped to your boots? Rather a flamboyant manner of showing a, er , if I may so describe it, wholly un-necessary militant attitude to one and all on your part. Perhaps, as captain of this vessel, I might be supposed to be within my rights in asking you all to divest yourselves of your weapons? If only to put my wife's mind at ease.”
Xena and Gabrielle glanced swiftly at one another, then the Princess leaned forward, forearms on the table surface in front of her.
“Think we'll hold back on that a while, captain.” The dark-haired warrior eyed the medium-sized man with less than an open-hearted bonhomie. “Y'see, where we come from, it's regarded as jest natural to defend your personal safety, in certain circumstances. This present little affair comin', I got'ta tell ya, well within the meanin' o'the act.”
Captain Briggs was obviously intent on standing by his principles, clearly opposed to those of his unwanted visitors; but at this moment Sarah re-entered the room, bearing a tray with teapot cups and plates of buttered bread; thus defusing the stand-off yet again.
“Nice food.” Gabrielle nodded appreciatively a few minutes later, munching her way through her fourth slice of bread and butter, covered in a delightfully sweet concoction which Sarah referred to as strawberry jam. “This is divine. I may well have just found out what ambrosia really tastes like, now.”
“Give over, Gabs, y'll have the Gods' down on us fer hubris, or somethin'.” Xena always liked to keep her defences high in any unusual situation.
“What do you mean by mentioning the Gods in such a way; in the plural? You make yourselves sound almost pagan. I take it you are not, in fact, Pag—”
“I notice your strange clothes, ladies,” Sarah broke into her husband's diatribe, as if well-used to distracting attention from some hot topic onto a point of lesser but safer interest. “And, of course, the fact you both seem to be armed to the teeth, if I may so describe it. That boat, over the water, from which you have come to visit us; those clothes; your weapons; these all add up to a strange result, you know. Benjamin, please ask these ladies what year it is?”
“Well, I care less for the year, which I knows pretty accurately as it is, an' more for our precise position.” Briggs condescended to take account of his wife's wishes. “As I said, our sextant's lost; and it's a trifle difficult to gauge longitude as our timepiece was broken when the waterspout shook the ship mighty terrific, yesterday, off the Azores. Which area, o'course, we must still be in the neighborhood of.”
“It was for all the world just as if we were in the centre of a vast earthquake, ladies.” Sarah nodded, looking rather unhappy at the memory. “The whole ship was shaken from stem to stern; cutlery and loose objects of all sizes thrown around all over the place; Benjamin even tells me he has doubts the cargo may have shifted significantly—”
“No need to bore our, er , visitors with that, Sarah.” Briggs appeared more than a little worried that this fact had been broached in public by his wife. “As I was saying, a longitude reading; and perhaps the loan of a spare sextant and timepiece, which would be very well received, with many thanks, I assure you, ladies. I take it I may turn to you, er , Captain Aristides, for these necessary items? I assure you they, or a pecuniary amount equal to their cost, will be returned to you or your company at the earliest opportunity after I arrive at Genoa.”
A long silent pause accompanied this request, as Xena Gabrielle and Aristides took stock of the captain's words. The Princess spoke first.
“Azores? Where're they? Somewhere's nearby, in the Aegean? Though we're not so far from Crete, at the moment.”
“Mean t'make landfall at Heraklion tomorrow.” Aristides put his obol's-worth in to the discussion.
“Sextant? Timepieces? Wan'na tell us about them?” Gabrielle's inquisitive nature, as usual, overcoming her sense of politeness.
For some time past, during this ongoing discussion, Captain Briggs had been showing signs of a return of his doubts and fears regarding this disparate and highly unusual group of visitors. Now a dark frown spread over his cold stern features once more.
“This continuing air of naievety, if I may so put it, which you all seem intent on showing—in face of what is to us here, on board the ‘ Celeste ', a serious business—is less than gentlemanly, or indeed womanly, on your parts.” His anger now making him speak in a formal Inquiry-like tone. “Whatever, as my wife seems to be intimating, you think the year may be—though what on earth can make you believe it is anything other than the present 1872, I cannot think—I am more interested, and involved, in finding a true position for my ship. That means sextant-readings; and taking the time by a properly set chronometer, for longitude. My own instruments, as I state to you for the umpteenth time, having been lost or destroyed, I must formerly request from you now the loan of said instruments to allow me to continue my voyage to the coast of Portugal, and eventually the Straits themselves. If, for any reason, you find it impossible to accept this wholly proper request, then I can only say that, on gaining port, I shall make a formal complaint to the proper authorities to investigate your antecedents and present status. I am sorry to adopt such a position, but I am given no choice.”
“Really, Ben—”
“There is no sense in trying to change my mind, Sarah; these people, whoever they are, or wherever they may be supposed to have originated from, are clearly not going to offer us the help we may have thought only humane, in our present circumstances.” Briggs regarded the three curiously dressed individuals at his table with a less than friendly warmth. “Perhaps this discussion had better end here. Once you have gone back to your own vessel I shall request my Second Mate Mr Gilling to help me in trying, by dead-reckoning alone, to hit the seaboard of Portugal, with no further help from yourselves.”
By this time the bread and butter, and tea—which curious but powerful drink had grown on the Greek seaman and women warriors after their third cup—were forgotten. Everyone was standing round the table, in various attitudes of anger, dismay, and growing menace. Both Gabrielle and Sarah were the only one's actually physically engaged in attempting to ease the tension; and it seemed certain a confrontation of epic proportions was building to an unfortunate crescendo, when a cry from the deck above broke into the group's now highly charged sentiments.
The room door burst open seconds later to reveal one of the ship's crew, a middle-aged swarthy man, who stared at his captain in consternation.
“Another spout, sir.” He had a curious accent which reminded Xena and Gabrielle of the Germanic tribes. “A heavy cloud fast approaching from the Nor-West, with a dammed huge spout jest like the last. Headin' our way, like as if it could bloody see us clear an' sharp—beggin' yer pardon, ladies.”
“Come on, let's get up-top an' see what the situation is.”
Captain Briggs wasted no more words, but shot out the cabin like lightning, followed by everyone else present.
On deck once more it was immediately apparent the seaman had not been lacking in his description. On the far North-West horizon a huge mass of dark almost black cloud had mysteriously developed; and under it, connecting both cloud and dark sea, was the curving whirling column of one of the largest waterspouts Xena or Gabrielle had ever witnessed.
“By the Gods, that's a big one.” Aristides, improbably, was first to take stock of the situation he and both ships were now in. “Ladies, I got'ta get back over t'my bireme, an' take command. That dam' thing'll be on us in no time. Captain Briggs, I sincerely hope you'll take my offer t'bring you, your wife, an' your crew aboard my vessel? This here ship, while's big, ain't gon'na get under sail anywhere's near fast enough to outrun the waterspout. It's afar off at the moment; so y'have enuff time t'put that small boat, I see lashed t'the deck amidships, inta the water an' row over t'my vessel. I suggest actin' right now would be best fer all concerned.”
“Abandon my vessel? Out of the quest—”
“Captain, y'ain't got any choice.” Xena, deciding it was necessary, here assumed her hard uncompromising command attitude, under which most people tended to crumble like wilting flowers. “There's no time fer y'to get this giant ship movin'. The thing's been knocked about somethin' awful already, judgin' from what I can see. You yourself think your dangerous cargo may have shifted; the only way out's t'abandon ship an' come over t'our bireme, pronto.”
“Ben, I think the lady may be right.” Sarah here laid her arm on her husband's arm again. “We can cross over to their ship, strange as it may seem to us, and maybe be able to return after the waterspout's blown itself out. I think we have a better chance of surviving it in that low-bulwarked lighter vessel then the ‘ Celeste '. And think of our baby-girl, Sophia.”
Xena and Gabrielle glanced at each other in surprise and some agitation.
“Y'got'a baby aboard this dam' ship?” Xena was first to speak her thoughts. “Are y'mad? Bringin' a young child on a cockleshell piece o'crap like this here? Dear Athena! ”
“That closes the argument.” Gabrielle, for her part, now assumed the stance and air of the strong Amazon she was. “Captain Briggs, this crazy ship'll never survive another hit by that immense spout. Y'got'ta do as we say. We'll cross over in our own boat. You get you wife an' child, wherever she is, an' the crew together an' come over just as fast as you can after us, in your own boat. Got that? An' don't dam' argue.”
—O—
Gabrielle had offered to give up her place in Aristides tiny boat for Sarah and her child, but Sarah had declined with a smile; informing them she would feel safer alongside her husband in the certainly crowded, but much more strongly built, ship's yawl.
In what seemed less time than a group of athletes would have taken to run three stadia at a Games festival Xena and Gabrielle were back aboard Aristides bireme. In moments the bireme's crew had hauled the small boat they used on deck, and everyone was rushing around tying down all loose ropes and equipment, ready for the arrival of the rapidly approaching waterspout. Then all they could do was stand on the deck, switching their appalled gaze between the dark horizon and the ship a cable's-length off over the choppy water; waiting to see what the people there would do.
“ Athena! I hope Briggs see's sense, and does what we offered?”
“No choice; it's his only way o'survivin'.” Xena shook her head, all the same. “Who in their right mind would have brought a child, near enough a baby too, onboard a thing like that. Oh, it's far bigger an' probably faster than this bireme; but it don't seem t'have much in the way of stayin' power against heavy seas or ocean storms.”
“Look, there they are.” Gabrielle extended her right arm in a straight line, pointing over to the now visibly rolling many-sailed vessel. “They're putting that boat from the deck into the water. Yeah, I see ‘em going down that short rope ladder now. What's that Sarah's handing down, careful?”
“Her baby?”
“Yeah, must be. Gods. Why in Hades did she bring the child on a sea voyage in that ship? Big as it is, the boat just don't look, like you said, as if it'd survive any kind'a a really violent storm.”
“See there,” Xena now pointed over the darkening white-capped water. “They're setting out from the ship; an' not a moment too soon. Dam. That waterspout's comin' on far faster than I'd a'given it credit for.”
“Xena, I don't think they're gon'na make it across in time.” Gabrielle had been switching her gaze from the slowly moving over-crowded boat, with its passengers and crewmen—one of whom, at least, seemed to be partially disabled and had taken some time to be lowered into the boat at starting,—to the approaching waterspout and accompanying black cloud. “No—No. Look it's nearly on ‘em. Aristides, what's gon'na happen?”
The Greek captain stood by their side measuring the girth and strength of the unusual natural phenomena in a curiously calm manner.
“We're gon'na be safe, I'm thinkin'.” He spoke, with all his life-long sea-going experience to aid him, quietly and in a surprisingly unruffled manner. “Its course is quite defined, don't y'see? It'll miss us by some way, though we'll certainly feel the broken seas o'its passin', right enough. But we'll survive. Though they're, like ya say, still far too close t'that dammed peculiar ship. They're gon'na get caught, sure as anythin'.”
“What can we do, Xena?”
“Nuthin', Gabs. Nuthin'. It's too late. Look.”
Over the now choppy and ever-more angry sea the two boats—two-masted ship and small rowing-boat—seemed locked in an embrace that showed no sign of breaking apart. To the spectators on the bireme the small boat, with its overcrowded compliment, appeared locked to the side of the larger ship, with little open water between. Then the dark sky arrived overhead; a black roaring cloud-mass swept angrily across the heavens; and the two distant vessels were lost to view as the raging, earsplitting and deafening waterspout raced across the sea close by. The heavy dark green waters, agitated beyond endurance, swept against the sides of the bireme with a grasping violence which was almost human; everywhere seemed wrapped in stygian darkness, accompanied by violent winds of a nature unknown to either warrior woman before. Then, with a sudden change which seemed to the watching people on the bireme like an act of the Gods, the spout raced past; seemed to loose all its impetus within the following two stadia; and, along with its accompanying cloud, disappeared almost in an instant, as if by magic. The blue sky re-appeared; the seas swiftly lessened till they quickly resumed their former relative calmness; and the apprehensive watchers could see once more to the far horizon. But of the strange two-masted ship, or the small rowing-boat, there was no sign whatever on the ocean's surface stretching out all round.
“ Oh Gods! ” Gabrielle, at least, was horrified as she turned in shock to Xena. “They've gone. The ship, an' them. Aristides, get that boat back in the water. Come on, Xena; the quicker we get over there the better chance any survivors'll have. Come on, Aristides, move your butt, for all the Gods' sakes.”
—O—
Another full emptying of the large clepsydra aboard the bireme passed before everyone re-grouped back on the deck of Aristides' vessel. Xena and Gabrielle, breathless from their exertions in the small craft, stood by Aristides' shoulders, looking over the waste of water to where the other ship had last been glimpsed.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Gabrielle's tone was full of the shock and wonder felt by all present. “Not so much as a piece of wood, or any other tiny bit o'wreckage. You'd almost think the dam' boat had never been there in the first place. What're we gon'na do?”
“Nothing we can do now, ma'am.” Aristides spoke the reasonable truth, with a weary shrug. “Both boats is gone, includin' everyone aboard. Jest gone, an' that's an end o'it. All we can do now is carry on our own voyage.”
“But that dam' waterspout?” The blonde Amazon was still over-awed by events. “I ain't never seen anythin' like it. It was enormous; far greater than any spout I've ever seen, or heard of. Almost supernatural.”
“Well, an act of some angry God or not,” Xena turned to put her hand on the distressed Amazon's bare shoulder. “there ain't nuthin' more we can do; jest like Aristides says.”
“ Gods , that's so sad.” Gabrielle turned, at her companion's gentle insistence, to go down below to their small cabin. “Who were they, after all? Where'd they come from? And what was all that palaver from Briggs about; what did he say those things he wanted were called?—sextants an' chronometers?”
“Somethin' t'do with the way they sail, wherever they came from.” Xena pursed her lips thoughtfully as she followed the slight form of her lover across the deck. “Somewhere far away, I'm guessin'. Maybe even somewhere's we've never been ourselves.”
“Or heard or read of, even?”
“Yeah, that too, maybe.” The dark warrior woman clambered down the short internal ladder to the lower deck. “It's all over now though; we'll just have t'write it down t'experience, an' hope it never happens again; t'us, at least.”
“But poor Sarah; and her child, Xena? Oh Gods! ”
“Come on, sit y'self down. I'll get ya a mug o'wine; it'll help. Just one o'those things, I'm afraid.”
“I'll go to her Temple an' offer a prayer t'Aphrodite, when we reach Crete; for all their sakes, Xena. You wan'na come to?”
“Sure thing, Gabs, sure thing. I'll be there with ya. Come on, drink up.”
“I just don't understand it.” Gabrielle laid her head wearily on the shoulder of the beautiful woman sitting by her side; comforting her with an arm tightly wrapped round the Amazon's waist. “I just don't understand.”
The End.
—O—
To be continued in the next instalment of the ‘ Xena's Exploits' series.
—OOO—