The Arrows of Hercules

At last a faint light appeared in the doorway. Yawning, Zopyros stepped to where Ahiram lay curled in a small heap and shook the boy awake.

"Go to the door," he said, "and put your head out. Beware lest someone grab you. See if land be in sight."

Ahiram reported land on the port side. An hour later, Milko appeared.

"We near Akragas," he said.

"Good," said Zopyros. He yawned and stretched. "Tell me when the wharf is nigh."

Some time later the mate reappeared, saying: "The wharf is crowded, my lord Zopyros. We shall have to anchor in the harbor."

"Run the ship up against one of those already tied up to the wharf!"

"But my paint!" cried Captain Bostar. "You'll mar the side, if you crack not the timbers with the impact!"

Zopyros put the sword edge to Bostar's throat. At the touch of the steel, the captain moaned: "Do as he says, Milko. But if you, sir, harm my ship, I'll—I'll ..."

"You'll write me a letter of complaint, care of President Dionysios, Syracuse, Sicily."

The motion of the ship eased as it slid into the harbor at the mouth of the Akragas River. Sounds of harbor work, human voices, the braying of asses and mules took the place of wind and wave. Zopyros stooped and cut the rope where it bound Bostar's ankles.

"Stand up!" he said.

With his hands still bound behind him and the blade of Zopyros' sword against his neck, Captain Bostar walked—hobbling stiffly from being tied up—out of the cabin, followed closely by Zopyros and Ahiram. Far above and fifteen furlongs away, the ruins of Akragas' magnificent temples, sacked by the Carthaginians seven years before, gleamed like a pale golden crown at the top of the long slope. The mate and the sailors, watching like a ring of wolves, moved forward a little.

"Keep back!" barked Zopyros, with a suggestive motion of his sword. He pointed. "Bring the ship in there!"

Milko took the tiller bars from a sailor and, snapping commands, guided the ship slowly towards the line of merchantmen moored along the wharf. The sailors took in sail until there was barely enough to keep the ship under way. Two sailors grunted at the sweeps.

The captain of one of the moored vessels, seeing the Sudech drifting towards him, rushed to the rail of his ship and began shouting in Greek: "Keep off, you dung-eating temple robber! Touch my ship, and by Herakles I'll have the law on you!" A couple of his sailors stepped to the rail of the Greek ship with boathooks.

"Keep on!" commanded Zopyros.

When the ships were less than two cubits apart and the Greek captain was dancing and waving his fists over his head, Zopyros called to a Punic sailor: "You there! You with the squint! Throw my duffel bag across to the other ship, and Baal Hammon help you if you drop it in the water!"

The sailor addressed picked up the bag and tossed it to the deck of the farther ship. The Greek sailors with the boathooks strained at their poles to keep the ships from touching. Two Punic sailors picked up oars from the deck to help in holding the ships apart.

"Ahiram!" said Zopyros. "Go to the rail!"

"I fear that angry man on the other ship—"

"Never mind him! Go, or Zopyros will spank!"

The boy went. Zopyros spun Bostar around and, with a mighty shove, sent him staggering into the midst of his own men. Then he tossed his sword across the gap, swept up Ahiram in both hands and, with a muscle-cracking effort, hurled the child across the rails of the two ships.

Seeing Zopyros unarmed, Bostar's sailors sprang at him. Just ahead of their clutching hands, Zopyros vaulted to the rail of the Sudech and with one long stride reached the rail of the Greek ship. His foot slipped on the second rail, so that he fell heavily and sprawled on the Hellene's deck.

When Zopyros scrambled up, the Greek captain had already planted a foot on the sword. On the Sudech, a rattle of commands sent the Phoenician sailors to their posts. They pushed off with their oars, and their ship began to draw away from the Greek merchantman.