The Cargo of Lead

Legal Notice

Violence and Prurient Content Warning

This story contains a little sex and violence and there are some naked people. Future stories will have a lot of sex and violence and even more naked people. If a little sex and violence and naked people upset you, then don’t read this story.

This story also contains information about ancient world seafaring and Mycenaean history. If ancient world seafaring and Mycenaean history bother you, don’t read this story.

Ursa sunning herself on the beach.

Art by IHCOYC XPICTOC

The Story

Spring, about 1300BC. The Aegean Sea.

Lead is always a good cargo. It sits low in the ship, and behaves itself, and keeps a vessel stiff in a gale - like the one which was blowing just now in the earliest light of dawn. Zephyrus was giving his last good performance of the season as the merchant ship Isis, close-hauled to the wind and straining under the vicious westerly gusts, fought her way northwest along the bulge of the Phrygian coast. After having taken on a large cargo of pudgy lead ingots at Katsaba, on the isle of Crete, the late winter storm had blown the Isis far to the southeast instead of northeast toward the intended port of Rhodes. Her captain, Ursa, herself a female like the ship she commanded, held onto the windward backstay and turned her face into the driving, pelting rain; as if defying its strength and trying to divine its source and intent. For two miserable days the storm had raged unabated, wearing everyone out until the sailors were just laying about in heaps under canvas covers catching what sleep they could. They were out of sea room and Ursa could sense the threatening coast closing in, an all too dangerous and unforgiving lee shore. She knew the Isis would have to come about and tack off to the southwest, directly away from Rhodes, and lose ground, and time, and money - and that made her angry. Counting on a change of wind to the south had not paid off and now the ship might be facing trouble if she continued to hold out. Knowing she had been blown too far south, Ursa had tried to claw her way north past Phrygia and around the east side of Rhodes. Once in the sheltered waters between the great island and the mainland, the winds might abate and run fair, but she was having no luck, and still too far south as well as east, and exposed to the ruthless westerlies, she had to give in - Ursa did not like to give in, not even to gods.

Her first mate, the tall and muscled Nubian, Rehena, was working her way slowly up from the waist where she had been securing some deck cargo that like so many things in this storm had come adrift. The little vessel would roll at times frighteningly, so strongly in fact as to dip one end of the yardarm in the sea and then roll back and dip the other. The violence of the motion made any movement about the deck almost impossible, yet Rehena wanted to speak with the captain. Mounting the quarter-deck as the ship pitched steeply, she grabbed a hold of the same backstay as Ursa and looked into her face in the gathering light. Rehena wanted to tell Ursa to come about and not risk fetching the vessel up on some unseen rocks, but she knew the master too well and only grinned at the drenched form before her. Ursa did not turn to greet or acknowledge her, but continued to stare defiantly into the storm. She was not only angry but tired and disappointed after hoping for a rapid passage and some fun at Rhodes. Rehena’s eyes passed over Ursa’s wet face, the soaked curly blonde hair plastered to her skin, and the wet tunic that clearly outlined the powerful form of her body. In her deep voice and thick African accent she laughed, "The men, they will no like you if they see you like this, Captain - like a rat - yes, a wet one. But then they see the tunic and the eyes say, oh yeeees," and then laughing very hard threw her head back. Ursa turned toward her, wryly smiling, "Maybe if I pulled off my tunic, the gods would stop this wind or swing it around to the south and give me some peace, if only for a look at this body."

"But they would want more than a look, Captain - you know that, they always want more than a look," and she laughed again. "To stop this storm they would want to make love. Why give your body to thankless gods when men are waiting at Rhodes."

Ursa knew what Rehena was saying, she was threatening the ship out of pride and stubbornness. She knew her own knowledge of navigation was superb and her instincts, honed in childhood, honed in the Phoenician Art, which few but the Phoenicians themselves understood, told her that the lethal coast was very near, perhaps dangerously near. There was no choice; she would have to tack and bear away to the west and far out to sea again to approach the great port of Rhodes. Rehena watched Ursa grab the stay with angry withering force, her arm muscles bulging. As if mocking her, the impudent wind whipped her tunic up and around and bared her legs to her thighs. Her legs were wonderful objects, solid muscle to her little bare feet. Rehena laughed again. She, herself was only clad in a simple loincloth, hardly more than a scrap of flax tied around her hips. Her bottom was naked as were her beautiful black breasts, bare and running with water. They shook as she laughed, standing bravely out before her, firm, with pointy ends and lovely nipples. It had only recently been night and Rehena was generally naked on dark and moonless nights, only the dim light of dawn brought out the wispy loincloth. But it now it was not only Rehena who was nearly naked; exposed by the playful wind, Ursa’s tunic blew up even further and revealed all. But the wind did not change. They both laughed again and Ursa pulled her tunic down.

"I guess even that didn’t work," yelled Ursa into a sudden screaming gust. "The gods pulled it up themselves and then did nothing. I must have disappointed them. Maybe you should remove your copious garments for them and see if they like Nubian flesh better."

"No Captain, you call to your Minoan gods, I only undress for Egyptian gods. I am a modest woman," she smiled playfully, "I only call them when I truly need them. You need Egyptian gods."

Ursa stared at the deck as if pondering a question, and then raising her head, and with a great yell over the taunting wind of the gods, called the sleeping crew into action. "Wake up lads, WAKE UP! Prepare to tack ship."

Rehena made her way forward into the waist, where she would handle the working of the sail, and hollered her own orders in her deep voice to the sleepy and soaked crew as they gradually staggered into the rain. Ursa watched Rehena as she stopped to smile at the gray and scudding clouds, to even enjoy the wrath of the gods as well as their warm and peaceful breezes. She stood still for a moment against the sky, her beautiful body in obvious pleasure at feeling the warm wind and the wet, her long curly ponytail, as black as the rest of her, blowing away in a stream of flowing hair. Gracefully extending her arms to balance, she moved, no, she actually slinked, almost writhed, unconsciously, transfixingly, as she artfully placed her bare feet on the spars along the bulwark - men loved her, it was no wonder.

A blinding blast of wind roused Ursa and she turned her attention again to her ship. Despite the fact that the Isis set only a tiny scrap of her reefed, square mainsail and her great yard was low to the deck, the ship was laboring heavily and blowing over at a steep angle during the fiercest gusts. It would be a difficult job to tack a square rigged ship in such a strong wind, if possible at all. With the stimulation of Rehena’s pretty body and deep otherworldly voice to awaken them, the crew were now gathered about the ship in preparation for the critical maneuver. Ursa walked up to the helmsman at the steering oar and yelled over the wind, "Steady as she goes, Heron, not too high into the wind. I want plenty of way on her when we go for it. Understand? I don’t want her speed down or she won’t come over. If we hang in stays we may not have enough sea room for another try. Understand?"

"Aye, Captain." He nodded. "Keep her speed up and then over she goes."

"Good, Heron, good." Ursa sniffed at the air. "I can smell and sense the shore not far off. We’d better get it right the first time."

Heron looked ahead but his face was set and a little worried looking. Ursa noticed it and smiled inwardly. He should be a little scared, but not too scared - he looked about right. Rehena now sang back in a good mellow yell," All ready forward, Captain. Give us the order at your will." At Ursa’s order, the men would furiously haul the great yard and its sail around as fast as they could and hope that the bow of the Isis would swing around far enough to catch the wind on the opposite side of the ship and sail away to the west, and not hang in mid turn and fall helplessly off toward the shore.

"Aye, Rehena," Ursa sang back, "I wait only for the right moment."

Just then a loud crush of water told Ursa that there were breaking seas to the starboard, toward the shore side. This was the sound of water crashing over the rocks of the Phrygian shore; they would only have one chance after all. She could see Rehena and the men look off the lee shore as well. Their fear would be growing. It was time.

Ursa looked a nod toward Heron and then cupped her hands and hollered to Rehena, "Prepaaare to taaaack --- Weather brace, HAUL! For your lives, HAUL!" And then to Heron, "Helm a lee, Heron, put her over, PUT HER OVER!" Heron pushed the steering oar over to his right as hard and fast as he could, but Ursa was there with him, pushing hard as well. As the great yard swung around, the sail slatted and banged and luffed against the mast as the wind fought the Isis from turning. But the effect of the steering oar was pushing the stern around as she swung over the wind, and it appeared as if the ship would win the battle. But then the wind backed and shifted and for an instant the Isis hesitated, her momentum gone. She hung in stays, resisting, sliding and threatening to slip back onto her port tack. A huge wave crashed over the bow and sent a vast wall of spray across the length of the ship. For a moment everyone disappeared, and then emerged, streaming and running with water. A fluke of the wind could push her either way, it was up to the gods now. Everyone just held their collective breaths and prayed whatever prayers to whatever gods were theirs. The wind seemed to mock them as it howled above, screaming yet doing nothing but tormenting them with a powerful and thundering voice. And then as if from another world a great human shriek arose, a wild and unearthly voice yelling words none of them had ever heard before, a voice that carried over even the sound of the booming breakers now only a few dozen yards off. It was Rehena, pleading to her gods, not her Egyptian gods but her Nubian gods, the gods of her lost childhood. She had reached deep. And with her arms outstretched, her naked body outlined against the sky, her voice roared and sang and pleaded to a name they never heard spoken. Ursa smiled for she could already feel the wind change before the others. The wind had let them go, the Isis was coming over on her starboard tack after all. And Rehena, now silent, stood and smiled at the sky, and then at Ursa.

"Nubian gods, Captain. I had no choice. I needed something special."

By the afternoon of the following day the storm had largely blown itself out and the Isis, still dealing with the occasional strong gust, was riding in long and deep swells and still on the starboard tack she had fought so hard for early yesterday morning. She was sailing as close to the wind as possible and slowly working up the middle of the southern Aegean toward mighty Rhodes. The lovely island of Karpathos lay disappearing off to the west and looked bright and warm in the sunlight, but to Ursa, holding on to her favorite backstay, it served only as bitter milestone, reminding her that in three days she had made only half of what might have been an easy two day run in a quartering wind, the usual Spring and Summer westerlies. But the gods had other ideas and here she was still fighting the wind and bucking a head sea. A little peeved, but undaunted, her plan was now to sail safely north and then turn east or southeast as the wind permitted. But the fitful winds had continued to back around until they now blew from the northeast, as if trying to block her path. She had gotten a good price for this cargo of lead, but it looked as though she would have to fight for it every inch of the way.

She thought again about the cargo and how she had gotten it, and how she got her price right off. No haggling, no hedging around. She didn’t even have to punch anyone in the arm trying to under-bid her or hold some poor agent up off the ground by the armpits while he made up his mind - none of that. It seemed a little too easy. Yet all she had to do was take the stuff to Rhodes, all eleven tons of it. Great gods, eleven tons of virgin lead, she felt like a Phoenician. Sailing up the inner channel at Rhodes would be a treat. With a cargo like this she would take a prime spot at the quay to unload, and she could afford to pay the fee.

She suddenly felt better about things and reached her hands high up over her head and stretched ardently as she held onto the taut and singing stay on her own quarterdeck. The Isis was a medium size ship, not small, but still small enough to make privacy a difficult thing, yet this little scrap of quarter-deck was hers alone. Even the helmsman looked away and left her to herself - it was understood. In this reverie, the exhausting inconvenience of the storm and even the contrary winds faded in her heady delight over her good fortune in the cargo the high and easily won fee. She felt the warm breeze blow around her and the heat of the sun-warmed deck against her bare feet and wallowed in the joy of being her own master, a joy that few women felt, but which she cherished; a feeling that would sneak up on her in the most unexpected moments and overwhelm her. She smelled the air deeply, lustily, and looked about, just enjoying it all. Her curly blonde locks blew past her head and out before her and she threw her head back and stared squinting into the cloud studded sky - for no reason except just to do so and fill her lungs.

High up on the rigging at the maintop, Rehena was visible, playing grab-ass with some sailor. They were both running along the great yardarm of the sail, back and forth, laughing and balancing themselves like two acrobats. Try as she might, Ursa could never learn to do that. And Rehena was naked again, naughty Rehena. Ursa had gotten her into a decent tunic earlier in the day, but she had thrown it aside and was cavorting about the rigging as the gods made her, in innocent nudity. Her earlier life as a slavegirl in Phoenicia had made her unconscious of her naked body. But now the former slavegirl was a first mate of a fifty ton merchant ship, and she really shouldn’t run around naked - and not with the sailors. But he was very nearly naked himself and all too evidently enjoying the fun. How Rehena was freed and how she became Ursa’s partner is another story, but she did save Ursa’s life once, and if nothing else, Ursa was appreciative - and rewarding. Truth be it, Ursa loved Rehena deeply, but not like she loved men. She loved Rehena from her soul, she loved her spirit; men she loved only with her body, or at least she liked to think.

Men; yes, she had had her fill of them three nights ago in a tavern in Helos. The Hall of Dionysus (a third of the taverns in the Aegean ports were named that, or something near to it) was a typical place, perhaps a bit larger than most, filled with sailors and serving girls dressed only in beads and perfume; wine and kisses flowed like water. She smiled as she took mental count of the trail of cracked ribs and sprained arms she had left behind that night. They never learn. She could hear herself now, almost as real as if she were there, "Hey, sweetie? Yeah, you with the skinny arms," to some guy who looked like he could lift up half the Isis, "Hi there." And then she would walk up nice and close and with a cute smile on her face wallop him in the arm, hard, a good straight punch. "YOUCH!! - Great gods!" he would holler and then rub his arm and look confused while the others, who knew her, laughed silently into their cups of wine. If a man did that to him he’d take him apart, but this was a woman, and in a tavern! His eyes would travel around the table for support and understanding, but he got none, only blank looks and buried faces trying not to laugh. "Come-on sweetie, I’ll arm-wrestle you for a drink. I’m thirsty and I never pay." She would continue to smile and might even kiss his arm a little teeny peck or rub it with the end of her nose; but then, quick as lightning, wallop him in the arm again, hard; she always hit hard. "COME-ON sweetie, I’m thirsty. You can always admit defeat and buy me a drink. But I need the exercise."

She would often wink at a pretty serving girl as a diversion. She liked the nicer ones and felt for them, slavegirls who served the men and took their abuse and later satisfied their lust. The slavegirls liked her as well and admired her strength and freedom and smiled back at her, their soft, naked bodies beautiful in the dim lamplight.

Ursa always wore a pretty knee-length tunic with short sleeves so her bulging arm muscles would show. At first, the ritual victim would not notice them but about this time in the encounter he would suddenly realize what he was involved with, and it was too late to back out. And, of course, she would now flex those muscles and make them bulge even more frighteningly as she carefully placed her right elbow down on the table, stared unblinking into his eyes and raised her open hand in silent challenge; all with a disarming and sweet smile. "Come-on, make Ursa happy."

The end was always the same . "Ohhh… did I hurt you?" she would say in a concerned and soothing voice, as he lay staring out into the room in wide-eyed, open-mouthed and silent agony after overstraining himself; and stunned in disbelief that a woman could do that to him. There were usually two reactions: he would clasp her hand and sheepishly smile and become her friend, or he might go for her. The latter always ended in a bear-hug, and then would come the cracked ribs she was famous for, and if his friends came to assist, there was always big Rehena smiling just behind Ursa, and then there would be a brawl - just like three nights ago.

Thinking of this made Ursa reach around and rub her right tricep. She had taken a good punch there, but the soreness was abating, gradually. She must have been laughing to herself because Rehena was suddenly standing next to her laughing as well.

"Thinking of Helos, Captain?"

At least she was in her tunic again; as if Ursa hadn’t seen her in the rigging climbing around naked.

"Yes, gods, we cleaned that place out."

"Oh yes, Captain, Hah! They all gone home in a hurry, especially the big one you started with. I really think you made him cry." Rehena was fully laughing now and wiping tears from her face just remembering. She loved a brawl, even more than Ursa. Her name, Rehena, meant mercy or compassion in her native tongue, but she rarely gave any, not once she got rolling, anyhow. She did not do bear-hugs, she just picked men up and threw them across the room into other men, and laughed while she did it. And like Ursa, she had a punch which could stop a Minoan bull dead on the spot.

"You seem much better today Captain, rested." In fact, Ursa had allowed herself to take a rest of a few hours sleep in her tiny cabin during the midday after everything was under control and the last of the dangerous gale had abated to mere storm. "A little sleep and you are beautiful again, all dried out," Rehena smiled. Ursa smiled back and her face took on that crinkly quality that Rehena liked to see in the captain, a sign that she was happy again - and pretty.

Ursa was indeed a pretty woman, all muscle and beef, really, but with a pleasant face and good firm breasts; not very large but firm with strong nipples that always dimpled her tunic. In her middle 20s, she had never married, but had taken over the operation of her father’s ship after he died. The event was rather tricky. He had died just has the Isis was about to leave Delos with a large cargo. It was either hire a captain to take the ship out or do it herself; her father’s only heir, the Isis was hers. Euxulos had trained her in the Phoenician Art since she was a mere girl, but never really intended her to be a sailor, women didn’t do that sort of thing. But not having a son he trained her for amusement and curiosity more than anything else, just to see if a woman could learn the art of navigation out of the sight of land. No one had ever done it before; women were considered a little too muddleheaded and undisciplined. But Ursa took to it like a… well, like a duck to water, and became as good a navigator as her father. Euxulos was also concerned about his daughter’s physical development. She had inherited his huge muscular body. Her mother had been a lovely and demure woman, beautiful, actually, but Ursa took solely after her father, a big, rawboned man. If she had been a boy, Euxulos’s life would have been complete, but she was a girl, and his only child. Her mother died in childbirth with her second child when Ursa was nine years old, and he never remarried. So Ursa got to sail with her father as a little girl and saw much of the sea and the lands both far and near. The problem was she never learned the things of a woman and really became a sailor. Euxulos thought he would send her off with his sister to live, but he kept putting it off until it was too late. He loved her dearly and could not part from her. The sea made her strong and vibrant as she climbed about the rigging and hauled and pulled with the men, and her body grew. Her real name was Kallimikri, beautiful little thing, but after demonstrating her rib crushing hugs and numbing arm punches, not to mention the paralyzing handshakes and lung evacuating backslaps, her father gradually came to call her Ursa, after the language of the Hesperians - and she liked the name. But her magnificent body was not appreciated by all and instead of passing time with young men in romance she fought with them when they poked fun of her muscular form; and always won - and that made things worse because in her youth she grew to dislike them; all of them, all except one.

She made hasty but decent funeral arrangements and did the thing she knew her father, deep in his heart, would want the most, she took the quarter-deck of the Isis. When she addressed the crew, she figured they would all laugh at her and walk off the ship. She was wrong - only about half walked off, the rest stayed, all three of them. Since that time she had commanded the Isis all over the Aegean and Ionian Seas and even into the land of Egypt.

Ursa turned to Rehena, "What did you do this morning? If that tack had failed we would be spread over half the Phrygian coast by now. Do I owe my life to you again? You and your Nubian gods."

Rehena laughed, "My gods are powerful, Captain. You saw."

"Yes, I saw, and I saw you in the rigging running naked along the yardarm."

Rehena giggled and covered her mouth, "I’m sorry Captain. See, though, I am dressed now."

"Yes, Rehena, till the wind changes."

Rehena excused herself to check the bilge water level and walked off with a playful and seductive wiggle. Ursa shook her head. It was hopeless. She would just have to accept Rehena as she was.

As the afternoon deepened she thought about the lead again and how she came upon the cargo. It was quite by chance, actually. Five days ago she was entering Katsaba, the port city near Knossos, in the bright early morning with the usual cargo of olive oil and wine. The entry to the harbor was interesting because the big Phoenician trader Anaphe was just leaving, and the two ships, sailing with a beam wind, would pass each other nicely. But Dracos, her captain, and an old acquaintance of her father, wanted to play games and tried the old dodge of forcing the Isis to pass her lee so the bigger ship would blanket the smaller one and leave her ignominiously bobbing, her sail flapping uselessly until she passed by; a nice trick to play on the "woman captain", to embarrass her and show her lack of seamanship. But Ursa was a little too wide awake for him and told Rehena to stand-by to rapidly double tack the ship when she gave the word. Ursa allowed Dracos to let him think she would accept the inferior position as she very slightly let the Isis sloppily drift ever so little to the lee side of the channel. If she had tried to fight for the windward side, Dracos would have worked the Anaphe imperceptibly up so as to block her. But Ursa played the game of the timid, poorly skilled woman and led Dracos along, and then at the very last minute she had Heron throw over the steering oar as hard to the left as he could. Rehena and her lads hauled the yard rapidly around and the Isis, turning on a silver drachma, swung abruptly to starboard and across the bows of the bigger and clumsier Anaphe. For a moment, the Anaphe loomed threateningly over them, but the littler ship slipped handily over to the other side of the big ship; then the oar was thrown back over again and the process repeated in reverse and before Dracos knew it, the Isis was to his windward side and sailing serenely past.

Ursa cheerily yelled out to him, steering close alongside. "Hello, Captain Dracos. The spirit of my father says greetings and thanks you for being so kind to his daughter as to grant her a weather passage."

Dracos bowed and held his fat belly as he laughed. Ursa had out-maneuvered him and he knew it, all he could do was laugh. "I will always remember Euxulos as a friend and grant his daughter any kindness."

"A little sea room is all I need, thank you, Captain. You have made us both smile today."

After seeing the Isis’s sail re-braced and set, Rehena walked aft. The Anaphe’s high upward-sweeping fantail stern was now just passing by and Ursa and Dracos exchanging their final waves. "That fat bastard, goat fucking, Phoenician with his overgrown piss pot of a ship. To think he could pull a dumb trick like that with that tub, and so loaded down in the water. I’m insulted. I would curse him good, Captain. You curse him, you’re captain. Curse him good. I have a few in Nubian for him. I’ll teach you."

"No Rehena, I’m too young for that. He’s a senior captain and I’m still very junior, but he got the message. I will not be pushed around"

"Hmph! Goat fucker," and then she swore and cursed in unintelligible Nubian. She would have ceremoniously spat at him, but they were on the windward side of the deck. "I don’t like Phoenicians. They’re all money hungry goat fuckers, the ones that aren’t dog fuckers. He’s going back to Caralis again, do doubt."

"Of course. You have to hand it to them, 40 to 60 days at sea, depending on the gods, and out of the sight of land. Someday, Rehena, someday we’ll do that run."

"Yes," Rehena’s eyes beamed, "and make a lot of money like the goat fucking Phoenicians."

"Yes, Rehena, like goat fucking Phoenicians."

Ursa and Rehena could not help but look wistfully at the big Anaphe as she sailed away to far off Caralis in the Tyrrhenian Sea; so far off, past Thrinacia and fabled Scylla and Charybdis and past even Hesperia and other exotic places. Hesperia, she thought, her own name came from Hesperia.

"You sure we go, Captain?"

"You can count on it, Rehena, someday we’ll go." Rehena smiled and gave Ursa a sturdy one-arm shoulder hug. "Yes, Captain, I know."

While discharging her cargo at Katsaba, an agent had walked up and offered her a tidy sum to take eleven tons of lead to Rhodes - no haggling, it was done. But she had to leave immediately, no fun at the tavern tonight. But the price was right and so the loading started immediately upon emptying the other cargo. It was a lot of lead, and in 50 lb. ingots that would be, lets see…., 440 little pigs; so much lead that near the end of the loading the slaves had to go to a second storehouse to get the remainder, just the last couple of layers covering the Isis’s hold. Realizing the lead would leave considerable room for other lighter cargo, Ursa had been busy contracting while Rehena stayed on board to supervise and managed to get a quick load of wine and olive oil as well. By mid-afternoon they were sailing down the channel and out to Rhodes with a good quartering wind from the northwest.

And now, in the fading light of the late afternoon, here she stood fighting for as much northing as she could get before turning east, and hopefully a good slant to Rhodes - she could use some good luck. As the sun set, the wind began to drop, as usual, and as the sail flapped lazily. Rehena drifted up again for some conversation. The Isis, now virtually becalmed and with no wind to steady her, pitched about in the swells.

"I think the wind will come back from the northwest, Captain, like it should. And then we run down our easting to Rhodes and some good fun, yes?"

"I agree. By early night I think the wind will be fair." Ursa’s eyes suddenly brightened. "Oh! Look, Rehena, look." Ursa pointed her finger to the east and there, behind some thin low clouds, was the pale moon, just rising. "Cynthia is full and smiling upon us, maybe our luck will change."

But Rehena said, "Oh, that is the eye of Horus, son of Isis."

"Yes, Rehena," she said coldly. Rehena frequently liked to try and convert Ursa to the proper understanding of religion and her Egyptian and Nubian gods. Ursa’s father, an otherwise good Minoan, had a fascination with Egypt and so named his ship, Isis. Rehena never let her forget that.

Undaunted by Ursa’s icy reaction, Rehena rambled on, proselytizing, "But the great mother is the goddess Nut, goddess of the sky, who carries the moon and all the stars." And in the darkening light she raised her arms and began to intone…

"Great One who has become Heaven,
Thou dids’t assume power, thou dids’t stir,
Thou hast filled all the places with thy beauty.
The whole earth lies beneath thee.
Thou hast taken possession of it.
Thou enclosest the earth and all things upon it in thy name."

"That’s very beautiful, but you mean Chaos the goddess of the everlasting and eternal night, she who was here before Gaea and Cronos; before Zeus and Hera"

"What? Oh, no, Captain. Nut was here and setting up the sky with stars and beautiful things so Osiris and Isis could rule over us. Zeus? Oh no, he is only a story."

Ursa began to get a little warm under the tunic. Ursa and Rehena never argued about anything except religion, and Rehena could be very insistent and difficult, Ursa was little better. And after yesterday morning’s success with the wind, Rehena would be unbearable for weeks. But Ursa was in no mood to argue and instead said, "Look, whatever it is, is it not beautiful, hanging low upon the water?"

Rehena smiled a pitiful, condescending smile at Ursa and simply said, "Yes, Captain, it is beautiful - whatever it is."

The moonlight had begun to spread out across the water in a glittering fan and as the two looked the sky turned to purple and finally to black, with the big round moon now just fully risen.

The wind sprang up again, pushing against the wrong side of the sail as it flapped against the mast.

"Captain, the wind. It come from the northwest."

"Yes, the northwest. Tonight we sail toward Rhodes.

Rehena laughed and danced about the deck and ran forward to get the crew into motion and re-set the sail while Ursa called to the helmsman, "To the east, into the moon, no…, just a bit to starboard, yes, yes, that’s good." Her inner senses were working now, they would sail through the night like Phoenicians, and by late the next day, if the winds held fair and strong, they might be tied up at the quay unloading - and looking forward to some fun.

Ursa rarely slept more than a couple of hours during the night and was awake early the next morning as the light was just beginning to bathe the dark sea and turn it into a glowing golden color as the sun made ready to rise. She loved this time of day when the essence of life emerged after the eerie darkness of the night. Only a person who has sailed the sea in a small ship through the night can truly appreciate the dawn.

By midday they were sailing south of the island of Simi and were within only a few hours of Rhodes. Once through the islands, Ursa changed course to the south for the final approach. Shipping had become more numerous since about midday and now was increasing steadily as the great seaport approached. Merchant ships of all sizes abounded, from tiny coasters sailed by frightened men who sailed from cape to cape, afraid of losing sight of land, to mighty Phoenician traders and freighters with two masts that lumbered along in all weather, and in night as well as day and out of the sight of land. Ursa sailed that way, heedless of weather and sight of land, but she was trained in the Phoenician Art of navigation and did not fear the loss of mother earth from her sight. She could do those amazing things like sense land over the horizon she could not see, and know exactly where she was at all times, even at night. Only the blinding storms would confuse her, as they did even the Phoenicians.

It was not long before the twin capes of Rhodes hove into view and soon after, the white buildings of the city. Shipping was quite thick now and one had to be on one’s toes not to collide with another ship, particularly the bigger vessels that could not get out of their own way. But one little vessel was headed right for them, a small lateen rigged coaster with four men on board, and one was waving. Ursa looked hard, could it be? Rehena glided up beside her, smiling broadly.

"You have better eyes, Rehena, what is it."

Rehena was laughing and slapped Ursa on the back.

"What is it? Who is it?"

"Ohhh. Captain, I hesitate to say. Oh my." More laughing. "It’s your old boyfriend, Captain."

"What? Boyfriend my ass. Is that Bokd?"

"Oh yes. It’s Bokd for sure. See how he waves. He likes you. I told you he likes you." And she continued to giggle while Ursa squinted at the approaching boat and fumed. Yes, indeed, she could see him now, it was Bokd. Wait till she got her hands on him. Rehena took over and had the sail lowered and ordered the Isis’s helmsman to heave her to. Ursa was preoccupied and becoming too agitated to function.

As the boat approached more closely, she could see he was with an official of some sort, at least he appeared so by his dress. The other two were sailors. Bokd appeared apprehensively happy as the bobbing boat came up along side the slightly less bobbing Isis, and as the two boats bobbed at each other Ursa stared a hole through Bokd, her arms akimbo, head a little low and looking at him hard, scowling through one eye.

"Ursa, It’s me, Bokd," he said pathetically. He knew he was in for it; you could hear it in his voice. Rehena was leaning against the far rail paralyzed with mirth over what she knew was about to happen. She was not to be disappointed.

Ursa finally let go.

"Bokd! How dare you show your face to me, you bastard son of an Assyrian camel fucker."

Rehena liked that and added, laughing, "Goat fucker, Captain, and dog fucker." But she was choking on her own laughter and could hardly get the words out.

"Let me explain, Ursa, please."

"Explain what, Bokd? How you left me in that tavern while you took off with that soft little thing in sandals and perfume.

"I waited for you and you didn’t show. I thought you forgot."

"Forgot!? Bullshit, Bokd, good old Minoan bullshit, that’s you all over."

The man in the boat look at Bokd in amazement. "You let a woman talk to you that way?"

Bokd look at him in bleak resignation, "Has she ever punched you in the arm?"

"Certainly not. - Punch me I the arm? I don’t understand."

"I know you don’t, but you will. I’ll cool her down. I’ll get hurt but I’ll calm her down."

"Ursa," Bokd pleaded, "I’m coming aboard with this gentleman. He’s a very important man and we need to talk business. There could be a lot of money in it for you."

"There’s going to be a sore arm in it for you."

When Rehena heard that she crumpled up in stifled laughter. The rest of the crew were trying to contain themselves but this was just too much.

Bokd was about four or five years older than Ursa and came aboard the Isis when a young boy of fourteen or fifteen as an apprentice to her father. Like Ursa, he had sailed since a small boy with his uncle on a grain freighter and Euxulos, his uncle’s friend, had agreed to take him on and teach him the Phoenician Art. Bokd became a kind of substitute son to Euxulos. Ursa knew that, but she liked him anyway, she didn’t know why but she did. At eleven, Ursa was beginning to feel things she didn’t understand and Bokd was the only boy who didn’t laugh at her. In fact, he liked her. The two in a way grew up together, and Bokd, a powerful and muscular lad, would defend her (she let him think she needed defending) when she was in a tight spot. They became great friends and thought more of themselves as bother and sister. Then one day Bokd told her his apprenticeship was over and he was leaving to become third mate of a Phoenician trader. She felt the pain of the loss and realized there was more to their relationship than just friendship, she knew she felt for him, but Bokd had to go. That night they kissed and embraced and then did even more in the shadows of the deep woods near Cnidus. Their passion came as a surprise to both of them, but Bokd had to leave and Ursa could not forget. And three years later at Delos, Euxulos died.

She had seen Bokd three times since that first night; twice they had made love, the last time they, well…, had just missed making love.

Ursa made a crooked finger and motioned for them to come aboard. Bokd began to rub his arm unconsciously. The other man noticed the gesture and rolled his eyes in fascination.

Ursa turned on Rehena, "And you, pull yourself together, Girl. We have guests." She said the last word with sarcastic exaggeration. Noticing the crew she yelled at them as well, "And get those grins off your faces or I’ll whip the hides of your backs"

The little boat worked up alongside the Isis and in a few moments Bokd was clambering up the side and hopping gingerly on deck, a little too gingerly perhaps and grinning a little too eagerly. Ursa just stood stock still, her hands still on her hips, staring angrily. The other gentleman came up right after Bokd.

"I’d like to introduce Lord Alkimos, he is an advisor to the King of Rhodes, His Majesty Kossic."

Ursa bowed to him in polite recognition. Alkimos made a tiny, almost imperceptible bow in return. Bokd looked about uneasily, he knew what was going to happen. He looked at Ursa. She was just staring at him, expanding her right bicep, beginning to make a fist; but her anger was turning to something else, sadness, and it made him sad to see it. In his heart he knew she loved him. He had treated her badly and he felt small and mean for it. He just stared at the deck. Finally he said in a concerned tone, "We were worried about you in the storm we thought you might have been wrecked, or gods forbid, gone down.

Ursa relaxed her hand, "Your concern is touching." And turning to the official, "My Lord Alkimos, may we descend to my cabin where we can discuss whatever it is you wish to see me about. Rehena here will see to it we are brought refreshment. Wine, gentlemen?"

"Yes, thank you Captain," said Alkimos.

"And you, Captain Bokd?" a little archly.

"Oh, yes, yes, wine is fine."

Ursa led them down the short ladder to the main deck and around into the stern cabin. Once seated around the small table Bokd readied himself to speak. Ursa just looked at him with blank eyes. Never had blank eyes said so much. Never had blank eyes bothered Bokd so much. But if having her angry at him was not enough, he was about to reveal something else, Ursa has been misled about the cargo. Bokd held his breath.

Just then a crewman entered with a bottle of wine and took three cups from the cabin shelf. He left. Bokd delayed things a little by proposing a toast.

To Ursa, master mariner, master of the Phoenician Art, and long-time friend." His eyes fell to the table. Ursa looked at him and relented, just a little, not much, but just a little. He took a breath and continued. "Ursa, Lord Alkimos and I are here to beg your help." Ursa’s eyes narrowed. Under her withering gaze Bokd faltered but gathered his strength and continued. "Eh, well, we want to take the cargo to the little island of Herakleia"

"Herakleia?" Her eyes expanded.

"Yes, Herakleia."

"That little piece of ground? I’ve got more dirt than that under my toenails. There’s nothing there. Nothing!"

"Well, there is now."

Alkimos spoke up, "We must make sure we can trust her Captain. She must be with us."

Bokd went on, "Ursa, we need you. Rhodes is being threatened by the Sea Peoples, the Hittites, the Assyrians, whatever you want to call them. They’re all together raising Hades among themselves and fighting each other and in the process looking at Rhodes as a prize. They are not overtly hostile to us yet, but we need to prepare to defend ourselves."

"So your a Rhodian now, Bokd?"

"I’ve never had a home, Ursa, you know that. For the past several years I have been successful here and feel I owe them something"

"And you want me to take contraband lead to Herakleia."

"It’s not contraband, Ursa it’s just that if a Phoenician patrol galley stopped one of our larger ships, they would seize it, lead is valuable. But loading it on to a smaller ship and then having it taken away unknowingly puts you out of suspicion. They wouldn’t bother you."

The Phoenicians had allied themselves with the Hittites and Assyrians and used their own navy to patrol the seas for them and watch for dangerous cargoes, the Hittites and Assyrians having no navy themselves. In return, Phoenician merchantmen were left unmolested to sail the seas. A nice arrangement, but one which contributed to the Phoenicians’ bad reputation.

Oh, I see. They’d never figure a woman would be trusted with a valuable cargo. So I’m likely not be stopped, right?"

"Right," said Alkimos brightly. Ursa glared at him. Bokd face sagged and winced. Please my Lord, she’s sensitive…" As the unguarded words fell out he knew he was in trouble.

Ursa erupted, "I’m NOT sensitive! You’re fucking with me Bokd, and I don’t like it. I’ve been lied to and it doesn’t feel good. What next? Feed me to the fishes as a sacrifice to Rhodian gods. Big joke. I’m expendable. Wouldn’t even be missed."

"Ursa, there’s a good price in this for you. Please, tell her my Lord." Ursa was fidgeting on her stool. Bokd saw that right arm working again. Alkimos, spoke gently.

"My dear girl"

Ursa’s gray eyes widened as she rose from her seat.

"Uh…, Captain," she remained half risen, "we are prepared to pay," and he named the price. Ursa sat down again, her eyes now staring in mute wonder at Bokd.

"That’s a huge amount of money. Where is the silver?"

"At Herakleia," said Alkimos. "You have my word and the word of His Majesty."

"And mine," said Bokd solemnly. Ursa made a face.

"It’s too much. Something’s up. I don’t trust you; either of you. There’s more to this. What is it?"

Alkimos spoke in his terse and official manner. "Yes, there is more, but you will be protected. Captain Bokd will be in command of a Rhodian war galley."

Ursa smiled at Bokd, "A naval Captain now, wow! I just love guys in bronze."

Unperturbed at the interruption he continued. "Captain Bokd will be near you at all times. If there is trouble, he will be there to assist. You are being paid a lot of money Captain. We admit we can not tell you everything. It’s your decision. We only ask that if you do not take the assignment, you stay in Rhodes with us until this is over. We will pay you for your time, but we can’t let you go until this is over. I’m sure you understand. Captain Bokd convinced me that you were the person for this job. I had my doubts but he was insistent. You have the Phoenician Art, that is important, you will need to travel at night. Few have your skills. I hope the Captain has not embarrassed himself."

Ursa stared at the table. She was indeed being paid very well and she would be protected.

"My Lord, may the Captain and I have a moment in private. We will be on deck shortly and I will give you my decision. I beg you, sir."

Alkimos rose. "Of course, Captain."

As he left, Ursa looked Bokd straight in the eye. "You know I care for you Bokd, you know that don’t you."

"Yes, Ursa. I’ve cared for you since we were children. I would give my life for you."

Ursa dropped her eyes thoughtfully, somewhat vacantly, and then, "YOUCH!! Oh, gods Ursa." She had a straight out punch that was like lightning. No one could ever see it coming.

"That’s for the little slavegirl at Kos."

Bokd sat and rubbed his arm, but he had to smile. He was inclined to say, "She was worth it," but didn’t. Ursa was smiling at him with that crinkly look to her face that he loved, that crinkly look that made her look so pretty, that crinkly smile she had every time she just got through punching someone in the arm.

"Okay, Bokd, you're on, but I want you to know I have an extreme aversion to forced manual labor, or forced sex, so keep me out of the hands of the Assyrians, Sea People, or Lukka, or whomever the Phoenician are fronting for."

"My life on it, Ursa, my life." And he grabbed her hand with his good arm and kissed it.

For a moment she looked distant and poignant, but then chuckled and said, "Hey, look," pointing to a red blotch on Bokd’s left arm, "a hickey."

The Isis made immediate sail for Herakleia. Within a couple of hours Bokd and the galley Ranger were at sea after her. A new vessel of fifty oars and fitted with a full complement of soldiers and archers, the Ranger would be a formidable enemy against any armed vessel. The galley would follow Ursa out to sea and stay just out of sight as she threaded her way among the islands toward Herakleia.

Ursa said nothing to the crew except that they were going to another island and that they would be very well paid for the trip. But Rehena was another issue; she had to be told.

She watched her closely as Ursa told her the whole story. She liked the money part the best "Wow! Paid like Phoenicians."

"Like goat fucking Phoenicians, Rehena?"

"Hah! For that kind of money I fuck goats too, Captain."

Rehena could be very practical at times. She loved jewelry and armbands and all that stuff. Clothes she could dispense with, but not jewelry. And she liked only gold, it looked particularly good, far better than silver, against her black skin.

"You know, Captain, I like Captain Bokd. He’s a good man, I can tell, but he is a schemer. But he likes you though. I think you’re safe. But the other one, Alkimos? Yes, Alkimos, he’s all business. I think he’s okay too, though. Okay, we go to Herakleia." She smiled and skipped off.

The passage might have taken as little a day and a half, except that the northwesterly winds, so favorable for the passage to Rhodes, would now be staring them in the face the whole time. She would have take a long windward slant halfway back down to Crete and then a long port tack up toward Naxos, where Herakleia would be at the southern tip; three days at least. And that would put her away from the Anatolian Coast, and marauding Phoenician galleys doing Hittite or Lukka, or Ahhiyawa dirtywork - who could keep them straight. She could sense Bokd near her, but he had kept out of sight. Once or twice she thought she saw his galley on the horizon but she could not be sure, even Rehena’s sharp eyes could not make it out. It gave her a lonely feeling to have him so close and yet so far away and just out of sight. But he was there, she knew.

By the end of day two, the Isis was well on her way up the northeasterly leg and headed straight toward Naxos, when a sail was noticed off the starboard bow. The Isis worked up a little more and the sail began to emerge increasingly and finally the hull popped up over the horizon. It was not a merchant ship, it was a galley. Ursa sailed straight on, the best thing was to show no fear or concern, just keep sailing along, but she felt the galley was not Phoenician. In perhaps three hours the ship was fully visible and bearing down hard upon her, oars working and sails set, lateen sails on two masts, this was a fifty oared war galley.

Ursa called to Rehena to climb the masthead and use her good eyes. "What is she?"

"I can’t tell. A war galley, and coming fast. No flag, no special markings, but she is not Phoenician."

"No?"

"No, Captain. Big blue and green eyes on her bow and a yellow stripe and lateen sails."

"Come down Rehena, It’s Bokd, it’s the Ranger."

Within half an hour the big galley was standing off the Isis and bowing and bounding its head toward her like a huge seahorse, the big bronze ram alternately appearing disappearing from the water; a fiendish looking thing, a ship killer. Bokd was on the quarter-deck smiling away in his bright white tunic with red trim and his plumed shining bronze helmet. He looked quite the naval captain. Ursa’s heart stirred just a little. The Isis did not heave-to but kept going and the Ranger, using her oars, turned on a drachma and came along her lee side, following obediently. The two ships sailed along together like nautical companions, the two captains on their quarter decks waving to each other, and the men on the Ranger just looking in amazement at the two women. The Ranger was a beautiful sight under way. Her lean lines created a wonderful bow and secondary wave with the added feature of the ram cleaving the water and sending occasional bits of spray upward. The oars were well worked and moved in a single lovely rhythmic motion; all as one, her golden glittering wings, the water sparkling in the sun as it fell from the blades.

It was late afternoon when Bokd signaled the Isis to heave-to. He sent a boat over and the young officer in command said that the captain of the Isis was invited to have dinner with the captain of the Ranger. Ursa was flattered and accepted.

"You’re in command Rehena," said Ursa, smiling impishly.

"Hey, Captain, get your best tunic and the pretty earrings and the nice necklace, and don’t forget, the headband, he likes headbands, remember."

Rehena was right, he did like headbands, pretty ones, the one with the little silver serpent at the front especially. She slipped down into the cabin and got her best things and even reddened her lips a little. Ursa had a great liking for alluring sandals, she had a locker full, but since she would still be on shipboard she decided to remain barefoot - besides, bare feet were sexy too. When she emerged Rehena smiled. "You look like a goddess. Go, Captain, see your friend." She put her hand over her mouth and smiled again. Ursa departed over the side into the boat. The Isis and the Ranger would now continue to sail on toward Herakleia for no time could be wasted, but at least the two captains could enjoy a little time together.

Ursa turned more than a few heads as stepped on-board. Bokd showed her the galley from ram to steering oar, and took a great deal of time about it, for Ursa was a master mariner and understood everything. The soldiers and archers and sailors all stood straight and bowed to her as she passed and showed her great respect and more than a few sidelong glances. There was no doubt that Bokd was proud of her. She was the captain’s friend, a woman captain - and he had said that she knew the Phoenician Art. This was something they might never see again. She was a very different woman; solid and muscled but pretty and pleasing to the eye in a unique way. Sailors are a strange lot, they can grow to admire unusual people if they are seen as special and competent, and Bokd had told them plenty about her in the long yarns he was prone to holding. He was a good story teller and she had been the subject of several.

As she turned to step into the cabin, she looked at the Isis sailing along and Rehena on the quarter-deck waving an arm toward her. She waved back and smiled. The Isis looked good as she rose and fell with the swell, her big red and yellow bow eyes looking out before her. How odd, she thought, she had never really seen her own ship under way from another ship before. It was indeed a beautiful sight in the late afternoon sun.

The cabin was small and contained a table and three low chairs covered with cushions and the captain’s bedding in one corner. Ursa eyed the bedding. She arranged herself a little luridly across a cushioned chair and casually smiled up at Bokd. He did look good in his white and red trimmed tunic. And he smiled back as he put down his plumed helmet; he had had to remove it before entering the low cabin. Wine was waiting on the table and he poured some and gave it to Ursa. She sipped casually, her eyes moving around the cabin and occasionally landing on him. Bokd seemed to hesitate and did not know what to say, so she spoke.

"Hey, relax. It’s just us, remember?

Bokd did relax a little and laughed, "I’m sorry, I guess I’m still embarrassed over that incident at Kos. I was terrible. You have a right to be angry."

"Angry and sad, Bokd. I thought I meant more to you than that."

"You do," and then sadly, apologetically, "You do." He leaned over toward her and put his face close to hers. He could feel the heat from her skin and the smell of her hair and feel her breath. She did not look at him but stared away just to one side. His mouth came near her brow and he felt his lips just touch her skin and her hair brush against his cheek, her eyes began to slowly turn toward him. For an instant they met and he saw the warm gray irises gazing at him.

And then a sailor rapped at the door and came in with their food. The mood was broken. They separated instantly, both a little flustered. They knew this would be discussed by a crew just waiting for any tidbit of information about the two captains and what they were doing in the cabin. The sailor placed the food on the table along with two bowls and towels and left. They both laughed gently and stared at the table.

Ursa spoke. "How nice to be on a big warship. Hot food and a well prepared meal." With seventy men on board, food is a big item. "And you eat well. Look at this. Chicken and rice and beans. And nice bread and good wine."

"My private stock. Just for you."

She suddenly reached over to him and kissed his face. He took her strong shoulders in his hands and kissed her back, on the lips, gentle but strong and deep. He kissed her for some time and then they separated. She nuzzled against his shoulder.

"Ursa, oh, gods, that feels good. Your kisses are still the best, so strong and passionate. You make me feel good and happy."

"Hey, lets eat a little. I’m hungry, and thirsty," as she slipped away and downed a goblet of wine and poured Bokd another. For some time they just sat and drank and ate, smiling and giggling, feeding each other at times and giving the other a prize morsel. After a bit they cleaned their hands in the water bowl and leaned back on the cushions and looked at each other, just smiling, just glad to be together. And then once again they were deeply kissing and embracing and losing each in the other.

Ursa wriggled free. "The men will think we are making love."

Bokd looked uncomfortable, but said in a purposely artificial way, "Ohhhh… No. I don’t think so," and then laughed. He was clearly excited and wanted to kiss and continue their play until she was undressed. She anticipated him, but for her own reasons.

"You know that I am a Minoan woman, don’t you?"

"Oh, yes. I’ve always known that. I notice the way bulls tend shy away from you."

"Bokd! I’m serious."

"I’m sorry."

He was a little tipsy from the wine and very excited and wanted to goof around. He was trying not to laugh, and failing miserably. The mood she had tried to contrive had been somewhat disturbed but Ursa needed continue.

Gathering her composure and lowering her eyes she said, "So it would not surprise you if…, if I wished to… bare my breasts."

Bokd instantly stopped giggling and looked very pleased but a little stunned.

"I have never worn the traditional dress of my people, the flounced skirt and open bodice, but it’s hot in here and if you don’t mind I would like to undo my tunic top."

She slowly unclipped the silver clasps as first one side and then the other fell down to her waist, revealing her modest but firm breasts - and there was something else, she had reddened her nipples in the Minoan manner. She raised her eyes to him. "Do you like them still, Bokd. Do my breasts still excite you?"

A lot of women have beautiful breasts, it’s part of the grand design to have them, but her breasts were more than breasts, they were part of her chest, her powerful and muscled chest and muscled arms and tight stomach. She was not like that slavegirl Bokd had run off with that night, naked for the taking, soft and accepting. She was a free woman and clothed and had to be induced to bare her body; and she had. But now she sat away from him and seemed to flaunt herself and smile more broadly, running her hands under her breasts and pushing them upward and squeezing them and smiling even more as she squeezed as if to suggest that she was giving herself pleasure, pleasure that he should be giving her.

"You haven’t answered? Do you like them?"

Bokd began to move toward her.

"Uh-uh-uh," she said, sliding away a little and just keeping him from reaching her. For an instant she covered her breasts with her arms and hands as if to protect herself from his advances. The serpent headband and the silver armband looked even more charming now that she was naked and holding her arms across her chest. She dropped her hands. Bokd looked confused.

She smiled slyly now. "If you like this, get me to Herakleia and paid. If you do, we'll make love. I’ll forgive you, but I want you to suffer a little yet. Long for me. Think of me. You know there is no one like me." She flexed her left arm into a huge bulge against her breast and dropped her eyes demurely, an odd combination, he thought, but teasingly exciting. He had become impossibly hard.

Bokd understood. He was to be denied because she was still angry over the slavegirl incident and probably not happy about being deceived about the destination of the cargo. Ursa never let you slip away unscathed. She unflexed her arm with a cheery laugh, as though she was laughing at herself as much as the situation, and began to re-clasp her tunic. He watched with regret as her breasts and reddened nipples disappeared.

"I think it’s time for me to go. I wouldn’t want the men to get wrong ideas about what’s going on in here," she said with a smile and a little toss of her head.

Bokd just looked dejected and sullen.

"Hey!," she said, "Come-on. We’ll get together. - At Herakleia. It’ll be like thunder and lightning. Just think."

Yes, their lovemaking could be powerful as well as passionate. Getting a woman like Ursa excited could even be dangerous, and she did tend to lose control at the end. The ends were amazing...

"Hey."

His mind snapped back to reality.

"Dreaming?"

He smiled. She knew where he had been and liked it.

"Time to go my dear Captain," she laughed. We’ve a fair bit of ocean to cover tonight and those islands can be dangerous. Needle and thread stuff. You lead with a man at the lead-line; I’ll follow like a good girl. You know these waters; and besides, Rhodes can always get another galley. Merchant ships come hard to little-girl captains like me,"

She was giving him a good natured chiding, but she was right. It would be a dangerous passage at night and they did want to make the entry under the cover of darkness.

"If the winds go contrary or die, I’ll pass a line out to you and tow you in. Watch for my signal or flash a light to me ."

The galley’s oars could always be counted on taking it exactly wherever they wanted to go, but the Isis only had a four clumsy sweeps to a side; useful for harbor entries but not for the long haul.

"You’re a sweetie," she said.

Bokd had managed to delay his rising long enough to calm down his enormous erection, at least most of it. Ursa cast him a sidelong glance.

"Back to normal again?"

"Sort of."

They both laughed and stooped out through the door and into the cool night air. It was almost entirely dark now, just a last lingering glow of blue and a touch of red at the horizon. The big moon, now two days past full, was just rising in the east alongside the great star of Zeus and the brilliant evening star of Aphrodite was in the western sky. Ursa thought how they complemented each other and framed the vaulting darkness. Bokd took Ursa’s hand and walked to the rail; he kissed it, and then each finger tip. Ursa’s thoughts wandered. The dark form of the Isis was outlined against the spreading moon-lit water. Rehena was showing no light, "Good," she thought; neither was Bokd. The moon-light could be their friend as a well as foe, it would help them thread the islands but could also reveal them. Bokd put his arm around her waist and pressed against her side. She thought of him again. He felt warm and strong and solid. And Bokd was thinking the same thoughts, how she felt the same to him, warm and solid, but in a feminine way, a lovely way. They both new the words but did not speak them. They were ship captains and Ursa was not ready to spend her life sitting by a loom. This was how their lives would be, fleeting romantic moments punctuated by long absences. She dropped her head against his shoulder. He squeezed her again and kissed her hair. She sighed.

The ships were now just a little south of Thera, the first in the group, it would take all night, even with a reasonably fair wind, to make Herakleia. Their intent was to sail past the east shore of Thera and straight up to Herakleia, thus avoiding most of the larger islands, but many smaller ones would be lurking about on which to run aground. Ursa, now in a sturdy working tunic again, and Rehena high up in the masthead where her sharp eyes would do the most good, guided the Isis along behind the Ranger. Not long into the night Thera was sighted ahead against the sparkling moon-lit water along with the island of Anaphe far off to the east.

The culminating moon now bathed the island-studded sea in a ghostly warm glow. The western Aphrodite had long since sunk into the horizon and now only the moon and Zeus commanded the sky. Ursa loved to look at the numberless stars, but with a full moon they were blotted out except for the very brightest. It was as if the moon ate them, she thought. Where did they go on the moon nights and in the day time? But they always came back. And falling stars; her father told her that a distant tribe in Africa believed that a falling star was a child being conceived in a woman’s womb. She always loved that story; it always made her cry to think of it. Her father would see a falling star and say, "See, another child is to be born." She thought of her father and tears welled in her eyes. How many times had he stood on this deck with her and looked at the sky on the moonless starry nights and watched them as they swung in their curved path through the heavens. They would watch them sink and rise and marvel at their limitless multitude and the thick milky white bands overhead on Summer and Winter nights. He would hold her close and tell stories about the shapes the stars made and the characters they formed; people, animals, and what they did to be placed in the sky. He would say that she was his sea nymph and call her Beautiful Thetis. Tears were warm against her face. Why was she crying?

Her father had traveled far in his life, even to the distant shores of Africa and beyond the Pillars of Herikles and even once, when he was young, to the far northern islands. He brought back many stories of strange peoples and customs and even stranger objects. She even had something from the far northern islands given to him by a woman warrior, a dagger, a fine and beautiful weapon; it was always at her side when she was dressed for nice occasions. It had been with her on the Ranger. He had told her the story of how this warrior woman had come to give it to him, how he had loved her, and how she had died. The tears were flowing copiously now, a steady stream. She wasn’t really crying, just draining, flowing, emptying herself of feelings. She just stared at the Ranger in the distance and let them flow.

Rehena cried out from the masthead, "Captain, a small island ahead. To starboard, hard to starboard."

Ursa turned to the helmsman farther back on the quarter-deck, but he already had made the turn. The Isis’s sail flapped in the easy breeze as the ship turned before the sail could be brought around, but Rehena’s men worked fast and soon the ship was bearing smartly away to the east. The dark rocks loomed just beyond their port side, the lapping waves glinted in the moonlight; they had just averted a serious accident. Once the island was cleared the Isis came around again and got on her true course. They had let the Ranger get too far off to one side and were not following in her wake. They would have to be more careful. As a precaution, all hands were required to stay on deck and be at the ready to pull at the braces and get the Isis around some reef or island.

Bokd was having his own troubles but the galley at least had oars and could back them instantly if the ship came up on an island. Islands were everywhere. They followed closer now and many times during the night Ursa could hear Bokd’s masthead lookout hollering to back water or shear off to port or starboard. It was exhausting, but at least no Phoenician galleys were sighted.

Ursa worked mentally with Bokd during the night as their trained senses told them where to sail, to know where north was, to know where tiny Herakleia was. Fortunately the wind held fair and steady and mild with no confusing storms. At long last the night was ending, and with the moon still high in the west, the first faint warm blue glow appeared in the east. Rehena walked up to Ursa. She was exhausted from standing the masthead all night, but was still gently smiling.

"Look, Captain, the dawn. Ra comes again, we greet him." And raising her hands…

"All praise thee when thou risest radiantly at the horizon.
Thou art beautiful and young as the sun disk in the arms of thy
mother Hathor."

"No. Aurora, Rehena, rosy fingered Aurora smiling at a new day as her hands spread light across the sky."

Rehena just sniffed and looked out into the sea.

The light gathered quickly in the clear sky and the faint dark blue glow turned to light blue and then to pink and then the whole beautiful, wondrous spectacle of the island studded Aegean spread out before them. And right on target, directly ahead, was Herakleia, a green lump in the water, perhaps two hours away. They had made it. And sailing along casually off their port bow, her oars stowed and heeling slightly in the westerly wind, her huge fantail rising upward and catching the light of the rising sun, was the beautiful Ranger. Somehow she had crossed the Isis’s bows during the night was off to the west. Bokd was waving from the quarter-deck. Ursa waved back, her heart swelling as she saw him. She had been with him all night, mentally, as they charted the sea. She thought, Bokd wasn’t such a bad sort after all, he just needed a little training. And he was a man, so he had to be expected to be sloppy and forgetful.

By mid-morning the two ships were cruising into the harbor; hardly more than a beach, actually. The usual collection of small whitewashed buildings dotted the shoreline and smoke could be seen rising from many. Ursa wondered about all the smoke. Lots of smoke. Both the Isis and the Ranger stood off shore just a bit and dropped their anchors with two nearly simultaneous splashes. She laughed; they did everything together. As the widening ripples went toward shore a boat was pulling out to greet them. The boat went first to the Ranger and then to the Isis. A Rhodian government official was aboard and smiling broadly at Ursa; Bokd beamed. As they pulled back to ashore, the agent, Perinoos, began to talk volubly about how glad he was to get the cargo and how much it was needed. Ursa piped up.

Yes, it’s very valuable, eleven tons of virgin lead. Plus a little wine and olive oil I picked up extra. I wonder what the man who’s waiting for the wine and oil is thinking?"

Perinoos began to laugh. Ursa looked annoyed.

"It's not funny. My reputation rests on my promptness and reliability."

Perinoos laughed even more. Bokd began to nudge him to stop but he kept it up. Ursa began to get increasingly annoyed.

What’s so funny? I’m late with a cargo so you guys can get your lead."

Perinoos stopped laughing and began to talk. "Captain Ursa, do you see those buildings with smoke rising from them?"

Ursa had noticed them becoming larger as they approached and began to see piles of stuff around them looking like fuel and ash and slag. Slag? These were smelting buildings. They were making metal goods here.

"This is some kind of foundry here, yes?"

"Very observant, my gir… ouch.., Captain." Bokd had narrowly kicked him through that one.

We make armor and swords and everything metal an army needs. For the defense of Rhodes."

Now she began to understand, or so she thought.

"Oh, I see and you need some lead."

"Oh no my dea… uh, Captain, not lead, tin.

Ursa’s eyes widened into huge round objects; her mouth fell open.

"Tin? TIN!??

Bokd cringed and closed his eyes.

"TIN!?? I’ve been carrying around eleven tons of tin?"

"Eh, well almost, the top two layers are lead."

That’s right, she thought, Rehena said the last of the load was taken from a separate building; two layers. Lead and tin look very much a like, but tin, white lead, is harder and brighter and might have been discovered by a scrutinizing eye. Once oxidized to a dull gray they look alike but if scratched, the tin might have been revealed. So the added precaution was taken. Nothing was more valuable than tin except silver and gold; it was among the rarest of metals, found only in small quantities in areas controlled by the enemy. Or found in larger quantities very far away. One of the two key ingredients of bronze, along with copper, eleven tons of tin could put about 9,000 to 12,000 soldiers in armor and swords. The ratio of tin in bronze is 1 in 10; eleven tons of tin was convertible into 110 tons of bronze. At about 15 to 20 lbs. of metal armor per soldier and a sword, well, the rest is just numbers; a little too many for Ursa, but she got the general idea.

She glared at both of them.

"Great gods, that cargo is worth a fortune. The Lukka, or Hittites, or Phoenician’s, or whoever the fuck, would have given anything for this, ANYTHING!" she screamed. "My ass wouldn’t have been worth a wooden drachma, Bokd. You lied to me again, a second time."

Her eyes were wild and her arms were bulging, her right fist gathered up onto a lethal ball as she began rising up on her feet in the tilting small boat.

Perinoos began to try and calm her, "Please, dear".

"WHAT!?? DEAR WHAAAATTT!???"

Bokd interjected, rasing his hands before him in unconscious protection, "Ursa, I told you there was something we had to keep a secret. Remember?"

She sat on her haunches, half raised up, her eyes narrowed to mere slits, the veins in her reddening forehead bulging like a bunch of grapes.

"Really, Ursa, you see…"

And then it happened. She rose up in the boat to punch Bokd in the arm and he rose as well to avoid her. As her arm shot powerfully forward, it propelled her backward and they both went over the side, each in a different direction, each hitting the water with a huge splash. Perinoos sat in the middle of the boat along with the two rowers laughing. Bokd started swimming away as fast as he could. Ursa let him go and just floated in the water up to her neck, spluttering, and hollering, "Go ahead and swim, but it’s a small island. You’re dead Bokd. You’re dead, dead, dead!"

Later that day they explained everything to her. She sat with Rehena and the others at a well-set table in the agents house while the noon meal was served. Ursa and Rehena had both been given a lovely gowns by the agent’s slavegirls. The girls had also done their hair up and they both looked radiant. Ursa was still a little peeved and disjointed looking, but was doing her best to remain composed. Rehena just laughed at the whole thing. She was happy about the money; the past was the past. Bokd sat and rubbed his arm intermittently - she had gotten to him and punched him a solid blow. In fact, she made him stand still for it - and he did. It was either that or the lingering threat of a sudden random attack later. He had to settle up and get it over with. But even with his sore arm a little private grin would pass across his face at times. Perinoos, on the other hand, seemed to be quite interested in Rehena and let his gaze drift to her frequently - Rehena noticed and seductively flexed an arm in his direction. Perinoos’s eyes widened.

Wine was poured and between some pretty foreboding looks from Ursa’s fiery eyes and beetling brow, Perinoos explained the whole thing through and how it was accomplished. It had really been quite an effort; the result of much planning and more than a little good luck.

"The tin," he began, "was mined in the southwest part of the northern islands about a year ago and sent to Caralis as part of the usual annual shipment. I can not tell you more, it would reveal things. People would be at risk." But Ursa and Rehena looked at each other and chuckled.

"That dog fucking Dracos and the Anaphe," Rehena said. "We saw him leave for Caralis the morning we got the cargo. That dog fucker brought it in from Sardha himself. And we picked it up like a couple of prize dockwhollopers. But now we’re rich dockwhollopers, yes?"

Perinoos and Bokd turned away hiding their faces in their napkins and trying not to laugh. Rehena could come out with the most amazing things and with her thick accent it was even funnier. But she laughed herself and shot a sly smile to Perinoos. Perinoos blushed; she was wonderfully beautiful and exotic, and clearly interested in him.

Ursa said disgustedly, "The Phoenicians work for anyone, for the enemy and against the same enemy."

Perinoos looked at the table with a knowing smile, but said nothing.

"If I had known that we were carrying that much tin, I would have been scared out of my wits."

"Exactly," said Perinoos, "that’s why we put the lead on top and never told you. If you had encountered a Phoenician galley on the way to Rhodes you likely would have talked your way through it - but if you knew…?"

Ursa fidgeted in her chair and let he eyes roll toward the ceiling. She did not like being out of control. Yet she had been, and more than once in the last several days. She thought about how close she came to losing the entire cargo off the Phrygian coast because of her own stubbornness and how the tin would have been literally dumped into the laps of the enemy. There had been more luck here than they knew and blame on both sides. Maybe she shouldn’t be so angry.

"You have been part of a great effort to protect our island nation," Bokd interjected, "I know you feel used, but I told you we couldn’t tell you everything. And they needed someone who was an excellent navigator who knew the Phoenician Art - and the money was good. You agreed."

Ursa looked down at her folded hands and thought. Calling her an excellent navigator was a big step in smoothing things over, that kind of flattery went a long way, but it was far more than that. In one respect he was right. It was a good act for a good purpose. She thought about how her own culture, a great and wonderful culture, had been overrun by the Achaians a century earlier and how terrible the suffering had been. They were still Minoans, but it was not the same. The great palaces were gone, burned out rubble. The others they were dealing with now were far worse than the Achaians.

Bokd looked to her for a sign, some sign that it was alright between them, some sign that she had forgiven him. She let her gray eyes drift toward his and gave him a small smile - a very tiny smile.

And now that you've read this story, read about THE CAPE GELIDONYA SHIPWRECK. This little Mycenaean Age trading vessel, probably a lot smaller than Ursa's, sunk with a full and fascinating cargo. Some of the cargo consisted of about a ton of copper and tin ingots weighing about 45 lbs. each. One analysis showed that 78% of the ingots were copper and 7% were tin, very near the proportions necessary to make bronze (90% and 10%); the ship was literally carrying the consituent components of a load of bronze.

By the way, zink was far more common than tin and was found on Sardinia as well as other nearby places. Copper and zink combine to form brass, not has hard as bronze, but still harder and better than copper.

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