Kommos

With the voyagers’ blistered hands hardening into calloused mitts and their sundrenched skin turning leathery in the salt air, the fleet plowed westward under full sail, blessed by Ba’al’s steady wind and Yamm’s smooth seas. One evening, just after sunset, a blurry smudge appeared on the horizon. The Arbiter should have spotted it, but the eagle-eyed lookout in the Nebula’s crow’s nest called it first: the island of Crete. The passengers strained to see the distant landform, but it was practically invisible to the untrained eye, even in silhouette against the fading western light. The captains said the island was still a long way off, so everybody should just settle down and go to sleep. But after days at sea, the passengers were eager to touch land and stretch their legs and smell something other than pine resin and sailors. Excitement rose, along with the waxing moon, and everyone stayed up late playing games, strumming instruments, and wondering what shore leave might look like in the foreign city. Through it all, Uru seemed a world away. Amaal wanted to ask, but she hadn’t yet learned to communicate with the girl who talked with her hands. She guessed that Uru missed her mother and her home in Tyre. But that wasn’t it at all.

As dawn broke, the Arbiter rounded a peninsula and headed north, and the flotilla followed like ducks in a row. The change in direction put the ships at an advantage with a strong southwesterly breeze, but the wind ricocheted off the high bluffs and buffeted the sails, and the captains called up extra hands to help maintain a safe distance from the coast. A short time later, the fleet passed a high outcropping. On the far side, a stunning sight came into view: the port city of Kommos. Much to everyone’s surprise and delight, the buildings were a burst of bright colors, the houses painted yellow, orange, green, blue, right up the hillsides to the elegant villas along the ridge overlooking the city. Where there were columns, they were painted in spirals of alternating hues, giving the impression that they were rotating as the ships sailed toward the shore. Whirly-gigs spun in the wind, tapestries fluttered from balconies, and mobiles turned gently in the doorways, making the whole city appear in motion. The passengers couldn’t wait to meet the people who had created such a merry spectacle. Beyond the sun-filled city, an expansive patchwork of orchards and wheat fields stretched to the mountains in the distance. No less a surprise was the fleet of merchant ships anchored in the wind-swept bay. Elishat’s sailors recognized them immediately as coming originally from Tyre, now on their return voyage from the west. No one had to be told twice to prepare for shore leave. Only the old Nursemaid stayed aboard, insisting that the others leave her in the care of the sailors on watch with a bowl of food and her little jug of wine.

Choppy waves crashed onto the beach, leaving a bunting of seaweed and white foam along the shore. The moment the fleet dropped anchor, Amaal, Uru, Hannu, and the others crowded into the landing boats and rode the surf to the beach. The passengers dispersed, drawn into the city by the smell of grilled lamb, the offerings at the local vintner’s stall, and the thrill of the main street lined with exotic treasures brought ashore from the Tyrian merchant ships. Couples had started to form among the passengers, and the zesty, carefree seaside city encouraged romance. Lighthearted lovers strolled arm-in-arm up the bustling main street. Amaal would have been happy to go with the flow, observing the passionate mergers, but Hannu insisted on stopping at every vendor.

“Where is this from?” he asked, fingering a turtlehead buckle.

“Copper. Poured in Gades,” the vendor replied, “under the Pillars of Melqart.”

“I’m going there!” Hannu blurted out.

“Oh, good to know! Can you take these glass beads to my jeweler friend there?” She reached under the table and brought out a sack bound by a strip of leather.

Hannu reddened. “Well, I’m not going any time soon. I have some other business to take care of first.”

“Very well, but when you do go, please remember me. I’d take a couple of blankets in exchange, if you have any.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Hannu replied. He walked on, astounded at the ease with which such an arrangement could be made. At the next vendor, among the carved bull and owl figurines, he pointed to a clay pot painted with a realistic scene of two bold hunters taking down their unlucky prey. “Wow, where did this come from?”

“The design is from the Nile, but it was made by a potter right here in Kommos.”

“It looks so real!”

“Got anything to trade?”

“Nothing today. I’ll come back another time.”

A little farther along, Hannu spotted a gaily painted terra cotta horse on wheels. “How much for the toy horse?” he asked.

“I’ll give you a good deal.”

“Where’s it from?”

“I got it from a guy who bought it off an Assyrian. Try it!”

Hannu rolled the horse smoothly across the table.

“It’s good quality. You should take it. I can give you a good trade,” the vendor said.

“It’s not for me,” Hannu replied. “Besides, I don’t have anything to trade right now.”

“I can front you stuff to trade, but you’ll have to leave me something as collateral.”

“I’m working on it,” replied Hannu.

“Leave an offering to Ba’al?” the vendor suggested, indicating the offering dish.

            Hannu shook his head and said, “Everything’s up to the gods anyway, and there are so many of them that it’s impossible to keep them all happy. I’d rather oversee my own future by buying something for less and selling it for more.”

            The vendor smiled. “As you wish.”

Hannu stood in the middle of the bustling main street and told Amaal and Uru he would return some day on a merchant vessel. All he needed was a little experience—and something to trade. With that in mind, he told them he had someplace he needed to be and took off up the street.

Sailors from the two fleets sat in the market, drinking wine and swapping stories. Hannu stood at the edge of the circle and listened to the conversation. The merchant sailors were extolling the virtues of Gades, the port city at the far western end of the Great Sea: the busy tin mines, the vast trade emporium, the beautiful women. They asked where Elishat’s fleet was headed. Her crew told them about the assassination and exodus from Tyre. The merchant sailors were surprised to hear the news but said only that they hoped the changes would not interfere with trade. Elishat’s sailors explained that the final plan for settlement was still being hatched.

Hannu cleared his throat.

“Do you have something to say, boy?”

“I…I was just wondering…”

“Go on, boy, cough it out.”

“Are there places on the Great Sea where you wish there were a port but where there is none?

To Hannu’s surprise, the sailors fell into silent reflection.

“Well, let’s see…” one said, “there’s Cyprus, Crete, Sicilia, Sardinia, they’ve all got good ports…”

The conversation drifted to which of those was best.

“I’ve got it!” a merchant sailor interrupted, snapping his fingers. “North coast Libya.”

“Oh, yes, now there’s something of a dead zone,” another agreed.

“Atiq isn’t bad.”

“Oh, but Atiq has gone downhill since its earlier days.”

“I’d agree; the Libyan coast could use a port.”

“There you go, boy, there’s your harbor waiting to be dug.”

Hannu ventured one more question. “Does anybody live there? On the Libyan coast?”

“Oh, sure,” someone said. “Shepherds!” Everybody laughed. Hannu thanked the sailors, and in a flash he was on his way to find the Queen.

Elishat, Barca, and Bitias were sitting around a low table in a private room in the home of a local dignitary. The Scribe, who had joined in Kition, was there, too, seated with the Lieutenant at the other side of the room.

“Do you think we’ll lose people to Kommos?” the Queen was saying, picking a bone out of her fish stew.

“We may,” Bitias replied. “It’s hard to resist the comforts of a city that’s already up and running.”

“I might retire here myself!” Barca said with a wink.

Elishat shot him a glance.

“Come now,” he said, “it’s time you stopped doubting your followers and started thinking about where to settle.”

Elishat sighed and closed her eyes. “Goddess, send me a vision,” she said. “Save me from wandering aimlessly on the sea. Otherwise, what a calamity this will have been, and all for nothing.”

“We’re here to advise you, Queen.”

“Thank you, Bitias. What would I do without you and Barca?”

The Lieutenant cleared his throat loudly.

“You, too, Lieutenant.”

Barca said calmly, “You’re doing just fine, Princess.”

            Hannu knocked on the door and gently pushed it open. Bitias spotted him and said bluntly, “What is it, boy?”

Breathless from running, Hannu replied, “With respect, sir, I have some information for the Queen.”

“What kind of information?” Bitias asked.

“Oh, just let him in,” Barca said, wiping the garum sauce from his lips. “Come in, boy. What is it?”

To a servant standing nearby, the Queen said, “Bring the boy some water.”

“Well, I was talking with some of the other sailors,” Hannu started.

Bitias and Barca shot dubious glances at one another.

“Well, well! Imagine that!” Bitias said. “He’s a real sailor, now!”

Barca chuckled, folded his arms, and sat back.
“All right, Bitias,” the Queen said calmly, “let him speak.”

Hannu took a gulp of water and returned the glass to the servant.

“The sailors said the coast of Libya is the longest leg of the return journey, and there’s no good port along there. They said that Libya would be a good place to build a port for merchant ships returning eastward.”

After a brief pause, Barca nodded and said, “Good information, Hannu.”

            “Yes, sir,” Hannu replied, bursting with pride.

            “What’s wrong with Atiq?” Bitias argued.

            “The sailors said that Atiq has gone downhill.”

            “Hmm. That may be true,” Bitias conceded.

            Hannu bowed and stepped toward the door to leave.

            “Before you go, Hannu…” Elishat said. “Bitias, give Hannu an apprenticeship on the Phoenix for the duration of the voyage. I want him trained under the captain’s direct tutelage.”

            Bitias raised an eyebrow and said flatly, “Yes, Queen.”

            “Oh, and Bitias? Tell the captain not to go too easy on him.”

            “Gladly!”

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