Warned by Uncle Clemon, we put to sea at once. Our boat was ill-provisioned, though. Father and my older brothers had met with no success during their voyage to the south. They’d found a sea as blood-red as our Smyrnan waters. The only fish they’d seen were floating on the surface. We had no money and no food. If we didn’t find a healthy reach of water soon, all of us would starve.
The only good news was that Baron Iadros didn’t send a war ship to pursue us. He owned three rapid triremes, but they were in service to the king. He couldn’t pull them from the fleet to chase such a trifling enemy as us. I expect he thought we’d die in banishment. He was satisfied to seize our house and give it to his nephew Laedron. Iadros pronounced it fair compensation for the bullock and the guardsmen’s deaths.
We learned of these developments from Uncle Clemon the next day. He’d caught up to our boat off Lesvos. Realizing that Iadros would blame him for warning us, he’d fled with his family, too. My four other uncles also decided to leave Smyrna. There was no fishing, no food, and no work. Press gangs were everywhere, and the king was known for sacrificing great swaths of lives among newly drafted troops. They decided it was best to join us on Lesvos with all their families.
Father had friends on this large island, from many years of visiting the port. He was known for selling prime herring at a reasonable price. But Lesvos was beset with drought and famine, too. Father’s friends were unable to offer help, so our six boats sailed on.
Lesvian fishermen reported better luck in the waters two days north. We’d need to cross a wide part of the sea, far from land. But this hardly daunted Father -- he was an expert mariner with a keen knowledge of the stars. What’s more, our ships had sturdy masts and sails. They were far abler to withstand rough weather than shallow-drafted galleys. We needed neither the protection of a coast, nor daily supplies of fresh water, as would have been the case were we propelled by sweating oarsmen.
We found a shoal of herring east of Limnos, but many local boats were working here already. All were well manned and well armed. They allowed us to keep the fish we’d hauled in with our first casts, but advised us with a show of weapons to move on.
We continued northeast for another day, aided by a favorable wind. On the next morning, our small fleet came to Imbrus. It appeared a fair-sized island, surrounded by the sort of water where fish thrive. A cold, deep blue, changing suddenly to azure near the land. Father said it meant a steep shelf, the sort that makes for rich feeding grounds. Indeed, we had little trouble hauling in nets crammed full of herring, along with some sea bass. Also, a few red mullet that would make for a fine deipnon. But wanting to avoid trouble, Father skirted the island’s populated side. That afternoon, we found a small cove rimmed with granite cliffs. Though many sea birds lived here, there was no sign of human settlement.
So we put in to this cove, said prayers of homage for our safe delivery, built a fire and burned offerings of our blood, then began building an encampment along the narrow beach. There was a small cascade that spilled over a low point in the cliffs. It gathered in a pool before it joined the sea. Along with Mother, my aunts, and female cousins, I carried clay amphorai here to fill them. The pool would be a reliable source of drinking water, good for bathing, too. We washed ourselves and then our clothes.
While the menfolk hewed timber for our homes, we cooked a feast of grilled fish along with shearwater eggs I’d gathered. There was also fruit, because my brother Nikos had climbed halfway up the cliff to pluck pears from a tree that jutted out. They weren’t ripe, but after roasting, they were very good.
The weather remained mild, so Father allowed us to go swimming in the cove. Except for the raucous noise of birds, it seemed an idyllic place. I wondered if the legendary cave of Poseidon was nearby -- I’d heard that Imbrus is the island where he stables his winged horses.
I told Andrastus that I hoped to find it somewhere along the towering heights. I looked forward to many happy years spent in this splendid place. Generous with food and water, safe from danger, glorious in the beauty of its rippled cove and gnarled cedars leaning from its blueveined cliffs. I wondered why men hadn’t settled here before. I must have expressed this thought aloud, because my eldest brother Kestides answered me at once.
“This cove faces north,” he said. “In winter, gales will sweep huge waves in here. The shore’s too thin to offer much protection. By then, we’ll have to cut a pathway up the cliff, and build new homes atop the heights. Or if that proves impossible, we must seek another place.”
But it was summer now, and our clan was numerous. We had much time and many strong hands for the task. I didn’t worry over it. The others didn’t, either. For now, we felt happy that the starving times were over, that we were free from Iadros, and that we’d found this place of bounty. By evening, the men had built the first of six timber cottages they planned to sit beneath the overhanging cliffs.
The next morning, Father and my uncles took their boats to sea. They planned to fill their nets, then trade the excess fish for supplies. There were many things we lacked for our new homes. Meanwhile, the girls and women and small children stayed behind to make a thatch roof for our first house. Beside the pool, there was much sea grass for us to use. It was pleasant work -- we sang in the bright sunshine as we gathered up great bundles. My little sister Geneia and baby brother Mavros played there in the shallows, along with our youngest cousins.
I still grieved for brave Euredon, of course. Iadros hadn’t even allowed us to send him on his way into the House of Hades with the proper funerary rites. I burned my tunic stained with his blood, and buried it beside the pool. Though this was no mighty temple, I prayed to wise Athena as my brother had requested.
At once, I felt a glow that warmed me from within. I knew the Goddess found this peaceful glade a worthy place to hear me. She’d even chosen to ignore the blight that stained my corrupt heart. I called on Her to speed Euredon’s noble shade toward a just reward beside the pool of Mnemosyne. Despite the seabirds’ clamor, I believe She heard me well. Euredon had always honored Her throughout his life. She wouldn’t punish him for my cowardice. I could almost hear Athena’s promise that she’d protect him always in Elysium.
The men returned that evening, looking grim. Andrastus told me there’d been trouble when they tried to sell their catch at Imbrus’s main town of Eulampio. Everyone knew at once they were outlanders. In these times of war and famine, the locals turned suspicious. An elder warned Father that we must leave at once.
Father and my uncles decided to make do without supplies for now. We’d simply live rough through the summer, eating what we caught. Between our six families, we still had ample salt. When that essential was exhausted, they’d sell a load of dried fish on the Thracian mainland. No sense searching for another cove, when every island had turned unfriendly in these hostile times. Best to stay out of trouble in this remote place.
But trouble found us the next day. A dozen ships sailed into our cove. A hundred men from Imbrus landed.
“Why are you still here?” shouted the elder who’d been hostile to Father in Eulampio. “Yesterday, I made it clear you were to leave. The tide is turning now. If you don’t put out with it, we’ll burn your boats.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Father answered. “We’ve caused no trouble. These waters hold plenty of fish for all. Your boats don’t even work this side of the island.”
“You’ll bring the blood into our fishing grounds. Panta rhei. All things are in flux. Our oracle has told us. Leave now, or be killed.”
“The red plague to the south is nothing to do with us. I think what really worries you is our large catch lowering prices in your market. But after the ill-mannered reception you’ve offered, we have no intention of coming near your town.”
They argued on while our shadows crept back to our toes. The sun was high and very warm. I watched the rivulets of sweat stream down this elder’s angry face. Then a loud noise caused all of us to turn. It was my young cousin Aristides running from the pond, shouting that little Phoebe had gotten mired while chasing a frog.
A man from Imbrus used the confusion as an excuse to attack. He wheeled and shot an arrow at the sprinting Aristides. My cousin was only eight, no threat to them. The arrow pierced him in his thigh. Aristides pitched forward, falling at his father Clemon’s feet.
Believing the wound mortal, Clemon raced with fury at the archer. Before this man could notch another arrow, Clemon gutted him. My uncle pulled his long boning knife out of the archer’s belly. He stared back and forth between the gore that dripped from it and the sprawled form of Aristides.
Another second passed, then all the men crashed forward in sharp battle. For every fighter of our clan, there were three from Imbrus. But most of ours had served in Smyrna’s long years of warfare against Lydia. We had no spears, no swords, and only Andrastus had a bow, but we’d learned how to battle hand to hand. Our enemies from Imbrus knew only how to battle fish.
I saw foeman after foeman fall, most with gaping knife wounds, one with his head turned to an angle so severe, only the dead are able to maintain this pose. Andrastus slew a dozen more with arrows, exhausting all the ammunition bequeathed by Euredon. With my sling, I took down seven other enemies. I heard myself shout, “Ulule!” repeatedly, the war cry of Athena.
But when I stopped, the anguish of our dying enemies was terrible to hear. Still, I felt exultant fighting side by side with Andrastus as we drove off our oppressors. To me, it felt an omen of our future marriage.
The battle ended as suddenly as it began. The survivors from Imbrus fled back to their fleet and sailed away, their number almost halved. The elder’s boat was left behind -- he and his three sons lay dead on our beach. We had only two injuries, neither one life-threatening. I helped Aunt Melissa patch Aristides, whose leg was pierced but wasn’t broken. Mother and Aunt Irene saw to Uncle Xolon, who had a deep cut across his shoulder. Meanwhile, Andrastus went to check on Phoebe. He found my little cousin covered in mud, but happily playing by the pond.
I went over to join them and gave Andrastus a warm smile. He didn’t smile back at me. He only cleaned his sword off in the water, a bleak look mired in his eyes. Couldn’t he see this was a time for joy, not sorrow? Was he so burdened by our mutual failure to save Euredon that he could never know happiness again? Didn’t he feel this bond between us, this promise that we’d always prosper side by side?
“You were wonderful,” I said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. If it wasn’t for you, we might have lost.”
“You slew almost as many.”
“You inspired me. I would have been frightened if you weren’t there beside me. Wasn’t that wonderful doing something glorious together?”
“It was anything but glorious.” He looked at me as if I were a child, who couldn’t tell playacting from reality. “ These deaths were just as hateful to the Gods as murder. Those we slew were only men like us. They fought because they thought it necessary to protect their homes and families.”
Though I loved Andrastus, I could not agree. The Imbrusians had attacked us mercilessly when we were doing them no harm. What’s more, our victory felt like gaining vengeance for Euredon. I proved to be utterly mistaken, but still awash in battle lust, that’s how it felt. I thought Olympus had favored us because we were in the right. But I didn’t say these things to Andrastus. I didn’t want to argue with him. I only wanted to stand beside him, to feel the heat that he was giving off, to breathe in the seductive scent of his flowing sweat.
After burying the enemy dead, Kestides and five of my cousins rowed out to the abandoned boat. They meant to claim it for their own, since this was a fine vessel. They all were at an age when young men wish to marry. By forming a partnership to work this boat, they could earn enough to pay bride prices.
When they rowed back, their faces were exultant. Not only at our utter triumph, but with the spoils that they’d found. In addition to the ship and a full supply of stores, they’d found six casks of wine. They brought these to the beach, so everyone could join their celebration.
But Father warned them not to drink and feast.
“We must leave now,” he said. “Do you really think this war is done? They’ll be back and bring tenfold more fighters.”
The young men didn’t listen. Already, they had one of the casks open. Imbrus was famed for the potency of its ruby-colored wine. From where I stood across the beach, I could smell its heady perfume. Loud with booming laughter, Kestides and my cousins drained bowl after bowl. I came close to see the silver skyphai that they’d found aboard the ship. From my brother’s pungent breath, I could tell the red stains in his beard were wine, not blood. They must have drunk at least one other cask before rowing back to shore.
Father berated Kestides and the other young men for their recklessness. But while he might rule his own sons, my grown cousins had no duty to obey. Father was eldest of his brothers, and they’d always turned to him for counsel, but within our clan, we believed that all men stand as equals.
Pretending they hadn’t heard Father, the youths continued carousing. They turned their throats up to the skies, shouting their great victory. They clasped each other arm to arm. Their chests thumped as they pulled each other close.
By now, my uncles drank with deep thirst, too. Relieved that young Aristides wasn’t seriously hurt, Clemon was particularly robust in celebration. He tipped back a cask, and poured a stream of wine straight into his mouth. Even Xolon, his shoulder bound with a length of sailcloth, had joined the revelry.
Father tried vigorously to stop them, but only managed to drag away my second eldest brother Nikos. The men continued drinking until their wine was all consumed. As darkness fell, Kestides decided we must have a banquet. Fish wouldn’t be enough -- for a great feast, one needs the rich blood of kine flowing down one’s beard. There must be many courses. A triumphant warrior should gorge on fatted lambs, roast kid, and all manner of fowl. I heard him tell my cousins that he knew where to get them.
With Selene’s round face brightening the sky, they climbed the cliffs. At the summit, they quickly found a track that led down steep terrain toward long-grass fields. There, the track widened into a rutted lane, wide enough for an oxcart to follow.
Ten minutes later, they’d trotted into well-grazed pasturage that stood before a farm. It belonged to the dead elder’s heirs, whatever ones were left. During the battle, Kestides had knocked down the elder’s youngest son, knelt on his chest, and pressed a blade against his throat. He’d forced this youth to reveal how our camp site was discovered. Before Kestides slit his throat, the conquered youth had admitted that his family owned the land that spread behind these cliffs. Their shepherds saw us from the cliff tops and reported our location to his father.
I know all this because I’d followed. Their voices were boisterous with wine. It was easy to overhear everything they said. I saw Kestides and my cousins raid the unprotected farm. With all its grown men killed, no one remained to stop them from seizing a sable bull, three young wethers, and a crate of bantam fowl. They also captured six young women.
Now, there’d be no need of gathering wealth to pay hard-bargaining fathers. At that time, my knowledge of such things was hazy, but as they made these captives their brides, it didn’t appear the girls were willing.
After they’d allowed the girls to dress, they led them back toward our camp. One tried to run, but Kestides stunned her with a backhand blow, then carried her over his shoulder. When they reached the cliffs, they forced the girls to descend before them. As for the bull and wethers, they simply prodded them over the edge. I watched them plummet with a sinking heart. One of the wethers didn’t die at once, but bleated piteously as if it were being castrated all over again.
Its cries must have risen to Olympus, for we were punished sorely before another day expired. I must admit it felt like we deserved this fate. My brother and cousins had behaved no better than the cruelest nobles.
We woke the next morning to repeated shouts of warning from Andrastus. Stumbling from our one completed cottage, we saw a large force landing on our beach. This time, there were hundreds. They must have rallied every male on Imbrus who possessed a spear or sword. Their leaders now were sheathed in armor.
Our men battled valiantly, but they were overwhelmed. Despite our fighting prowess, there were too many of the enemy. It was only through Father’s leadership that any of us were able to escape. He marshaled a retreat back to our boats. Since there was little wind, we chose the four lightest vessels and rowed with all our strength. The men from Imbrus gave chase in their heavier craft. They launched fire arrows at us, but these fell short. Seeing that they couldn’t overtake us, they returned to shore in a light rain. As I saw Imbrus for the last time, smoke smeared the weeping sky.
It mounted from our three abandoned vessels, blazing now within the cove. The fires might have been funeral pyres for Kestides and my five cousins, too. This is how I knew the Gods had punished us. The eldest son from each family in our clan lay dead on the sand, their beards congealed with grease, their unwashed bodies still stinking with lust, their souls heaped with curses from the six unwilling brides. I could see our young men where they’d fallen, staring sightlessly at our bitter retreat.