Troy 01 - Lord of the Silver Bow Read Online Free PDF Page B

cannot find on the Great Green.”
    “There you go! There’s nothing of worth that a man cannot find in his own village, let alone on the great sea. That’s the problem with these rich princes and kings. They don’t understand what real treasure is. They see it in gold and copper and tin. They see it in herds of horses and cattle. They gather treasures to themselves, building great storehouses, which they guard ferociously. Then they die. What good is it then?”
    “And you know what real treasure is?” asked the young man.
    “Of course. Most ordinary men do. I’ve been up in the hills these last few days. A young woman almost died. Babe breached in the womb. I got there in time, though. Poor girl. Ripped bad, she was. She’ll be fine, and the boy is healthy and strong. I watched that woman hold the babe in her arms and gaze down on it. She was so weak, she might have died at any moment. But in her eyes you could see she knew what she was holding. It was something worth more than gold. And the father was more proud and happy than any conquering king with a vault of treasure.”
    “The child is lucky to have such loving parents. Not all children do.”
    “And those that don’t get heart-scarred. You don’t see the wounds, but they never heal.”
    “What is your name, boatman?”
    “Spyros.”
    “How is it you are a rower and a midwife, Spyros? It is an unusual pairing of talents.”
    The old man chuckled. “Brought a few children into the world during my eighty years. Developed a knack for delivering healthy babies. It began more than fifty years ago. A young shepherd’s wife had a difficult birth, and the babe was born dead. I was there and picked up the poor little mite to carry it away. As I lifted him, he suddenly spewed blood, then started to cry. That began it, you know, the story of my skill with babies. My wife . . . sweet girl . . . had six children. So I knew more than a little about the difficulties of childbirth. Over the years I was asked to attend other births. You know how it is. Word gets around. Any girl within fifty miles gets pregnant and they send for old Spyros, come the time. It is strange, you know. The older I grow, the more pleasure I get from bringing new life into the world.”
    “You are a good man,” said the passenger, “and I am gladdened to have met you. Now take up your oars and force your way through. It is time for me to board.”
    The old man dipped his blades and rowed in between two longboats. Two sailors above saw the boat and lowered a rope between the bank of oars. Then the passenger stood and from a pouch at his side pulled out a thick ring and handed it to Spyros.
    It glinted in his palm. “Wait!” shouted Spyros. “This ring is gold!”
    “I liked your stories,” the man said with a smile, “so I will not eat your eyes.”
    II
    A loud crash from the deck above was followed by angry shouts. As Helikaon cleared the rail, he saw that two men had dropped an amphora, which had smashed. Thick, unwatered wine had drenched a section of planking, its heady fumes lying heavy in the air. The giant Zidantas was grappling with the men, and other sailors were standing by shouting encouragement to the fighters.
    The moment they saw Helikaon, all noise ceased and the crewmen returned silently to their work.
    Helikaon approached Zidantas. “We are losing time, Ox,” he said. “And there is still cargo on the beach.”
    As the morning wore on, Helikaon remained on the high rear deck in full view of the toiling men. Tensions were still running high, and the crew remained fearful of sailing on the Death Ship. His presence calmed them, and they began to relax, the work flowing more smoothly. He knew what they were thinking. The Golden One, blessed by the gods, was sailing with them. No harm would befall them.
    Such belief in him was vital to them. The greatest danger, he knew, would come if he ever started believing it himself. Men talked of his luck and the fact that none of