An Unexpected Ally

Bitias was convinced that the best way to revive the despondent passengers was to put them to work. There was plenty to do to assess the damage to the ships and re-load the cargo, but the call for volunteers fell on deaf ears. The passengers’ shock was genuine, their trauma well-founded, but Bitias found it hard to sympathize with all the moaning and groaning and complaining when there was work to be done. In short, the passengers simply refused to move. They sipped honey mead sweetened with fig, a locally brewed concoction that the fishermen served up to ease their pain. It was highly effective. Even the sailors were licking the honey mead from their lips and pretending not to hear the call for volunteers.

“I can help.”

Bitias turned to see who was speaking. It was Hannu. “You!” Bitias said in disgust. Hannu could see that Bitias was in a very bad mood. Perhaps the gash on his cheek was bothering him. Or maybe it was the loss of the Sage. Or, Hannu thought, maybe he just doesn’t like some people and I’m one of them. Everyone else, it seemed, had given Hannu a second chance. Bitias had not, and Hannu couldn’t quite understand why. Nevertheless, he waited for instructions.

“Well, come on, boy, don’t just stand there.”

They boarded the Arbiter and stood amid the wreckage strewn across the storm-tossed deck. While Bitias perused the damage, Hannu picked up a tangled length of rope and started to twist it into a proper coil.

“Don’t break anything!” Bitias barked.

Holding the rope in his hand, Hannu felt that the time had come. “Admiral Bitias, you don’t like me very much, do you?”

Bitias replied with a grunt.

“I’m not sure why that is, exactly,” Hannu said, “but—”

“Quiet, boy,” Bitias interrupted. His tone was softer than Hannu expected. “It’s true, I have not been completely honest with you.”

“Seems like you’ve been all too honest, if you ask me,” Hannu replied.

“It’s not that I dislike you, Hannu. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Oh, there’s more? I can’t wait to hear—”

“Your father was a dear friend of mine.”

Hannu’s jaw dropped.

“We grew up together and were like brothers right up to the day he left.”

“I…I had no—”

Bitias waved him quiet. “When you and your mother arrived again in Tyre, I was astonished by how much you look like him, but then…you were nothing like him. Your father was serious and competent and determined to make something of himself. He followed the laws and stood up for the underdog. It hurt me to hear that you behaved so poorly, running all over the city, refusing to take up the family business, getting yourself into serious trouble.”

Hannu hung his head. Never had he felt such shame. For once, he could think of nothing to say.

“The truth is, Hannu, you remind me very much of myself when I was your age. Your father was an anchor for me. I wanted to have adventures, to explore faraway lands. I was restless, as you are, and always on the move. Your father convinced me to train as a sailor so that I could go to sea, but also to learn the discipline of sailing. I did as he advised, and for that, I’m a better man. So, you can see why your presence has been a disappointment to me, a complication, if you will.”

Hannu’s mind was a storm of thoughts. Never had he imagined that he might meet his father’s best friend.

“When he died,” Bitias said, pausing to clear his throat, “I felt I had lost a brother.”

In the silence that followed, Hannu could think of only one thing to say. “I hope I’ll make you proud.”

Bitias spoke firmly. “I hope so, too. And your father. Make him proud. He was a good man.”

“Other than my mother and my aunt, I’ve never met anyone who knew him.”

“Many of us here knew him,” Bitias said.

Again, Hannu felt the sting of shame. Of course, many of the voyagers would have known his father. Why hadn’t he realized that his father’s friends were all around him? Probably all of them thought he was a fool. “Can you tell me about him?”

“Oh, yes, a trove of stories, all in good time. First,” he said, heading for the hold, “let’s find out what if anything below deck has survived.”

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