The Jewels of Aptor Part 3

"No," she said, almost regretfully. "Mine is the authentic version. So, you too, are not that clever." She turned back to the boy. "But I have need of a good thief. Will you come with me? And you, poet, I have need of one who thinks so meticulously and who delves into places where even my priests and priestesses do not go. Will you come with me?"

"Where are we going?"

"Aboard that s.h.i.+p," she said, smiling toward the vessel.

"That's a good boat," said Urson. "I'd be proud to sail on her, Geo."

"The captain is in my service," the woman told Geo. "He will take you on. Perhaps you will get a chance to see the world, and become the man you wish to be."

Geo saw that Urson was beginning to look uneasy, and said, "My friend goes on whatever s.h.i.+p I do. This we've promised each other. Besides, he is a good sailor, while I have no knowledge of the sea."

"On our last journey," the woman explained, "we lost men. I do not think your friend will have trouble getting a berth."

"Then we'll be honored to come," said Geo. "Under whose service shall we be, then, for we still don't know who you are?"

Now the veil fell across her face again. "I am a high priestess of the G.o.ddess Argo. Now, who are you?"

"My name is Geo," Geo told her.

"Of the Earth, then, your name," she said. "And you, Urson, the bear.

And Lamio, the little Snake. I welcome you aboard our s.h.i.+p."

Just then, from down the street, came the captain and the mate, Jordde.

They emerged from the diagonal of shadow that lanced over the cobbles, slowly, heavily. The captain squinted out across the s.h.i.+ps toward the horizon, the copper light filling his deepening wrinkles and burnis.h.i.+ng the planes of flesh around his gray eyes. As they approached, the priestess turned to them. "Captain, I have three men as a token replacement at least for the ones my folly helped lose."

Urson, Geo, and Snake looked at each other, and then toward the captain.

Jordde looked at all three.

"You seem strong," the captain said to Urson, "a sea-bred man. But this one," and he looked at Snake now, "one of the Strange Ones...."

"They're bad luck on a s.h.i.+p," interrupted the mate. "Most s.h.i.+ps won't take them at all, ma'am. This one's just a boy, and for all his spindles there, couldn't haul rope or reef sails. Ma'am, he'd be no good to us at all. And we've had too much bad luck already."

"He's not for rope pulling," laughed the priestess. "The little Snake is my guest. The others you can put to s.h.i.+p's work. I know you are short of men. But I have my own plans for this one."

"As you say, ma'am," said the captain.

"But Priestess," began Jordde.

"As you say," repeated the captain, and the mate stepped back, quieted.

The captain turned to Geo now. "And who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Geo, before and still a poet. But I'll do what work you set me, sir."

"And you?" Jordde asked Urson.

"I'm a good sea-son of the waves, can stand triple watch without flagging, and I believe I'm already hired." He looked to the captain.

"But what do they call you?" Jordde asked. "You have a familiar look, like one I've had under me before."

"They call me the handsome sailor, the fastest rope reeler, the quickest line hauler, the speediest sheaf reefer...."

"Your name, man, your name," Jordde demanded.

"Some call me Urson."

"That's the name I knew you by before! Do you think I'd sail with you again, when I myself put it in black and white and sent it to every captain and mate in the dock? For three months now you've had no berth, and if you had none for three hundred years it would be too soon."

Jordde turned to the captain now. "He's a troublemaker, sir, a fight-starter. Though he's as wild as waves and with the strength of mizzen spars, spirit in a man is one thing, and a fight or two the same; but good sailor though he be, I've sworn not to have him on s.h.i.+p with me, sir. He's nearly murdered half a dozen men and probably has murdered half a dozen more. No mate who knows the men of this harbor will take him on."

The Priestess of Argo laughed. "Captain, take him." Now she looked at Geo. "The words for calming the angry bear have been recited before him.

Now, Geo, we will see how good a poet you are, and if the spell works."

At last she turned toward Urson. "Have you ever killed a man."

Urson was silent a moment. "I have."

"Had you told me that," said the Priestess, "I would have chosen you first. I have need of you also. Captain, you must take him. If he is a good sailor, then we cannot spare him. I will channel what special talents he may have. Geo, since you said the spell, and are his friend, I charge you with his control. Also, I wish to talk with you, poet, student of rituals. Come, you all may stay on board s.h.i.+p tonight."

CHAPTER II

An oil lamp leaked yellow light on the wooden walls of the s.h.i.+p's forecastle. Geo wrinkled his nose, then shrugged.

"Well," said Urson, "this is a pleasant enough hole." He climbed one of the tiers of bunked beds and pounded the ticking with the flat of his hand. "Here, I'll take this one. Little wriggly arms, you look like you have a strong stomach, so you take the middle. And Geo, sling yourself down in the bottom there." He clumped to the floor again. "The lower down you are," he explained, "the better you sleep, because of the rocking. Well, what do you think of your first forecastle, Geo?"

The poet was silent. As he turned his head, double pins of light struck yellow dots in his dark eyes, and then went out as he turned from the lamp.

"I put you in the bottom because a little rough weather can unseat your belly pretty fast if you're up near the ceiling and not used to it,"

Urson expanded, dropping his hand heavily on Geo's shoulder. "I told you I'd look out for you, didn't I, friend?"

But Geo turned away and seemed to examine something else.

Urson looked at Snake now, who was watching him from against one wall.

Urson's glance was puzzled. Snake's only silent.

"Hey." Urson spoke to Geo once more. "Let's you and me take a run around this s.h.i.+p and see what's tied down where. A good sailor does that first thing--unless he's too drunk. But that lets the captain and the mate know he's got an alert eye out, and sometimes he can learn something that will ease some back-bending later on. What do you say?"

"Not now, Urson," interrupted Geo. "You go."

"And would you please tell me why my company suddenly isn't good enough for you. This sudden silence is a bilgy way to treat somebody who's sworn himself to see that you make the best first voyage that a man could have. Why, I think ..."

"When did you kill a man?" Geo suddenly turned.

The giant stood still, his hands twisting into double knots of bone and muscle. Then they opened. "Maybe it was a year ago," he said softly.

"And maybe it was a year, two months, and five days, on a Thursday morning at eight o'clock in the brig of a heaving s.h.i.+p. Which would make it about five days and ten hours."