Beyond the Ridge

After breakfast the next morning, everyone gathered on the beach, eagerly anticipating their first foray into the new land. The Lieutenant tied back his hair and set out to the top of the ridge, calling back warnings of loose rocks and spiny shrubs. The travelers studied his every step. Meanwhile, Barca shouted instructions. “Travel in small groups, disperse into the countryside, look for critical resources, and return to the Lieutenant at base camp. You are all part of the scouting mission now. Keep your eyes open. Otherwise,” he said, “you are free to roam.”

Free to roam! The words rang like ankle bells that jingled with every step up the ridge. A difficult climb? Yes, but they hardly noticed. It was a joy to be free, and when they reached the top, what a view! Fields of tufted grass stretched across the uneven landscape all the way to the edge of a distant forest. Olive trees held up their dusty, green arms like grandparents ready to embrace their never-before-seen grandchildren. To the travelers, the ripening olives that dotted the branches looked more like jewels than fruit. Ba’al cast his life-giving light everywhere, except, mercifully, in the cool, dappled shade of the trees. Here and there, a date palm waved hello from high above land untilled, untouched, original.

When they turned to look at the sea, their sea, the sea over which they had traveled for so long, the splendor of it took their breath away. Cyan water stretched to forever in the most magnificent view anywhere in the world. Moreover, there were islands and cities and villages and people out there, people whom they had met and befriended and promised to meet again. The travelers spun, arms out wide, and took it all in.

The newcomers tamped down virgin walking trails. Soon, there appeared a broad pathway running parallel to the shoreline, and another route heading back to the beach. The gully, the white rock, the overlook, all of the surrounding features were quickly discovered, described, and named. No one was in charge, and nowhere was off limits.

Amaal, Hannu, and Uru started out toward the southwest for no particular reason except that there was a prominent hill and Hannu wanted to climb it. Linnets flew across the fields, and a falcon circled the sky. A small creature sprang up from the underbrush and quickly disappeared. It looked like a long-tailed gerbil, but they couldn’t be sure.

“Plenty of lizards,” Amaal said. “Too bad you can’t eat them.”

They reached the top of the hill. There was plenty of open space at the top, broad and flat.

Hannu climbed onto a boulder. “You could fit the whole marketplace from Tyre up here! Temples, too!” He stretched his arms out wide, and declared himself king of the hill.

No sooner had he claimed his domain than a powerful rival appeared: Queen Elishat, trekking up the hill from a different direction, and, surprisingly, unaccompanied. She reached the summit, unhitched her skirt from her sash, and stood shading her eyes with the flat of her hand, scanning the coastal plain that stretched to the south as far as anyone could see. To the west lay the pine forest. To the east, her fleet sat anchored in the bay just out of view. No one yet knew what lay beyond the sparsely wooded hills to the north. Amaal, Hannu, and Uru stopped to watch her. She spotted them and called them over. She pointed first to Uru.

“You’re the dyer’s daughter, are you not?”

Hannu signed to Uru who nodded, yes.

Elishat touched the stripe of rich violet blue fabric sewn into the cuff of her sleeve. “Your father made this. It’s my favorite hue.”

Hannu signed again and Uru laughed.

“What’s funny?” the Queen asked.

“Her father has been dead for years. Uru made the dye for your robe.”

“But…you’re so young!”

“My father taught me,” Uru signed.

“Have you found sea snails here?” the Queen asked.

“Yes!” Uru nodded vigorously. “Down by the beach where the ships are anchored.”

“Well, then, you must establish your enterprise here in the new city. I will commission your business.” Uru’s face brightened into a broad smile. Amaal had never seen her look so excited. The young dyer bowed deeply.

“No bowing,” the Queen said. “Now, Hannu.”

She looked not at him but toward the horizon. Hannu straightened. Elishat was pointing to the length of shoreline visible from their vantage point on the hill. “Where would you dig the harbor?”

Hannu followed her gaze as if he had been thinking about that exact question. “Well, not where the ships are anchored now, that’s for sure. You can’t even see them from here.”

“I agree,” the Queen said. “So, where?”

“I would move them there, in that space where the plain meets the sea. I’d build a long channel and maybe a circular port with ship sheds.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” the Queen replied. “We’ll move the ships tomorrow. It will be easier to unload down there rather than carrying goats and chickens up that horrible, thorny cliff.” She continued looking outward. “And Hannu…”

He cringed, preparing for bad news. Amaal caught his eye and made a gesture of spitting on a stick and throwing it into a fire.

“The captain of the Phoenix tells me that you’ve served him well, especially at the tiller during the storm. By now you have come to appreciate that some roads cross the land while others cross the water. I want you to prepare to sail with the first fleet that will go out and establish a web of trade throughout the Great Sea.”

Hannu blushed in disbelief. He mumbled a meaningless reply, but she knew what he meant.

“First, you must learn discipline. You will continue as apprentice while you help build the ship on which you will sail.”

Hannu’s eyes widened.

“You must know every plank in the hull, every stitch in the sail, the capacity of the hold, the length and strength of every rope. Not only that, you must study with the merchants to learn numbers and values and become familiar with the goods available at each port at the best prices. You must perfect your negotiation skills. Regarding the past, I will only say that it’s good to avoid mistakes whenever possible, and when you make them, learn from them and move on. By the time you’re done with your training and your ship is built, our people will have produced enough goods for trade.”

“Yes, Queen, I…” His voice trailed off because he really didn’t know what to say.

“Very well, then, it’s agreed,” she said.

Hannu started to move away, his head already a flood of plans.

“One more thing, Hannu.”

He stopped, wondering what more there could possibly be.

“You made a good decision to leave the Face of Melqart at the tomb on Gozo. It will be safe there, probably forever, and the nursemaid will rest easy knowing her Melqart is there to protect her.”

Hannu’s jaw dropped. “But how did you know—”

“I may be just one person, Hannu, but I am Queen, and a queen has many eyes and many ears. Remember that.”

Hannu gave a little bow.

“No bowing,” Elishat said.

Amaal felt her turn coming. There was nothing she could do to build a city. She couldn’t cut stone or weave a blanket or build so much as a goat cart. Even if her flute hadn’t gone down with Tondo’s ship, she was certain she would never have found her place with the other musicians who possessed the power to raise people’s spirits and entertain the gods. Uru and Hannu wandered farther away, leaving Amaal and the Queen quite alone.

“Amaal, I was born a princess. In the palace, every decision was made for me: what to eat, what to wear, whom to meet, what to say, how to carry myself. Mine was a narrow path, and I never strayed from it. Since we left Tyre, I have had to make decisions not only for myself but for all my people. We all have decisions to make. Where one road ends, you must pivot and take another direction. Where there is no path, you must make one. I understand what you said at the bonfire last night, about finding your purpose. My advice to you is this: listen to the people around you. Help wherever help is needed. Be kind and patient. That in itself is a gift. In serving others, you will find your way. If your purpose is not to play music, it is surely something else. Whatever it is, give it time to be revealed, and use it to inspire the new city, for what are a people without inspiration?”

Amaal nodded politely, but deep inside, she couldn’t help but think that the hilltop seemed to hold promise for everyone except for her.

By now, more people were finding their way up the hill. There was no end to the chatter. The majestic cypress and pepper trees provided shade, and a spring that they’d discovered at the base of the hill trickled with what was reported to be the most delicious water anyone had ever tasted. The piney aroma of cedar, the sun-bleached stone, and the familiar flora—aloe, yucca, acacia—warmed the hearts of the newcomers. They were enthralled by every lady bug and dragonfly, not to mention the report of a possible gerbil. They gazed at the horizon in every direction and declared the expansive hilltop perfect for settlement. The phrase “just like home” was uttered many times. The Oarswoman quipped, “Except that there are no city walls, no roads, no houses, and no harbor…it’s exactly like Tyre!”

With the essentials apparently within reach, life on the land had begun. In the back of many minds, however, an uneasy question arose. How could it be that no one before them had claimed this glorious spot overlooking the stunning blue sea? They pretended not to notice the narrow, trodden paths they had come across—the kind made by shepherds guiding their flocks. The thought remained unspoken, but the little warning voices inside them were correct. Elishat and her followers were interlopers, camped out on land that had been occupied for thousands of years by a proud, nomadic people.

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