SAMOS

Toward freedom

Xisco Bonilla

Samos

First Edition in English, 2021

© Francisco Bonilla Garriga

Translator for the English version: Megan Elliott

First Edition in Spanish, 2017

Mundopalabras - Spain

© Francisco Bonilla Garriga

contacto@xiscobonilla.com

https://xiscobonilla.es

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The total or partial reproduction of this book, nor its incorporation into a computer system, nor its transmission in any form or by any means, be it electronic, mechanical, by photocopying, recording or other methods, without prior permission and in writing of its author. The infringement of the aforementioned rights may constitute a crime against intellectual property (Article 270 and following of the Spanish Penal Code).

To my wife, Marina, the best companion and friend with whom to enjoy this rich journey that life is, and to my daughters, Ana and Marta, who with their unconditional support have made this book possible.

Xisco Bonilla Garriga

SAMOS

Toward freedom

Index

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

GLOSSARY

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

I

“Wake up!” Magon heard amid an anarchy of cries and sounds that kicked him out of his deep sleep. "Wake up at once!" He recognized the distressing voice of his partner and opened his eyes.

“What's the matter? What's with all the fuss?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

“The Romans! They’ve found us and are almost here”.

Magon, confused, looked sleepily at his companion, like he did not understand what was just said. And then, squinting, he saw the hustle and bustle around him. The cellar of the ship was a man's coming and going. He started to help, but a strong jolt threw him to the ground.

He did not know how long he was there, perhaps only briefly, but he stayed lying on the ground, covered in salt water, urine, and faeces from the bilge. He touched his sore head and opened his eyes again. Everything was dark and the murmur of the water revealed a huge gap in the ship’s hull. He uselessly sought out light from the lamps and instantly realised they would already be waterlogged. He looked up in search of the opening through which the cover was accessed. He focused his attention to searching for the access to the roof. The same voice that had awakened him called him again.

“Are you there, Magon?”

“Here, Ascipo!” He stretched his hand out in the direction of the voice until he found his partner's arm. “We’ve been attacked, we have to go on deck.”

“I think I broke my leg," Ascipo replied. “You need to leave; the ship is lost”.

“No chance,” Magon replied as he stood up in pain. He approached his partner and helped him get up. “Are we stranded? Are we close to the coast?” Magon asked as he led his friend toward the deck.

“No, we are still on the high seas.” Ascipo briefly paused to rest. The pain in his leg was unbearable. “When I came down a Roman ship was headed toward us. They have just hit us with their spur. Fortunately, not hard enough to sink us.”

They finally reached the small ladder that ascended to the deck. Magon peered out to ask for help, but he saw flurry of sailors and soldiers preparing to defend themselves against their attackers. He saw a face he recognized; Utibaal of Lixus passed by and decided to help. They both pulled Ascipo up, who, exhausted by the effort, sat down to examine his wound.

“You’re lucky,” Magon said, trying to cheer him up. “I don't think you’ve broken anything; it just looks like a piece of wood has sliced your thigh.”

“Let's go!” Utibaal interrupted. The merchant's face, incarnate and sweaty, looked ready to burst. “The Romans have returned!” he exclaimed as he pointed his arm toward the port side.

Magon joined and glanced over to where the Lixite pointed. It was still dark, but the moon lit up the clear sky far enough to see the silhouette of the Roman trireme outlined dismally on the black sea. Magon's muscles tensed and a prick of anguish ran through his body as he recognized the faces of those who had already killed his wife and children in Syracuse. Their persecutors did not want to sink them. They wanted to board them.

“Come on, Ascipo.” He helped join his friend. “Get up, we have to jump.”

The three men retreated toward the starboard and Magon looked back for a moment to confirm his dark thoughts. The Roman trireme was positioning itself to board the worthless ship and take its occupants as slaves. He grabbed Ascipo by the arm and looked into the black waters, begging his God, Eshmun, to keep them safe in his kingdom.

* * *

The lateen sail, held at port, fluttered slightly amidst the murmur of the whimsical waves that broke against the wooden hull and turned to foam on the extensive blue mantle that surrounded them.

“Careful! If the red scorpionfish bites you, you may not enjoy your tenth year,” Hermes reprimanded his son. The reddish fish jumped briskly on the deck with its open gills and thorns loaded with painful venom, erected to defend itself. Almices moved his bare foot out of the way just in time.

“I'm sorry, father,” the young man replied as the sailor’s leathery hands searched for his prey and armed with a pointed tamarind wood stick, skewered the dangerous fish, and placed it into a worn wicker basket.

“You need to be alert when gathering the nets! This has happened before and one day it’ll give you a good scare,” his father taught him affectionately. “It’s sting can be deadly. Remember the old Aristophanes who did not come back alive last year? It all depends on the amount of poison you get.”

"You're right, father," Almices tried to excuse himself. “But you know that what I'd like most is to be a soldier, so I can travel and discover new places.”

"I love the fresh breeze of the morning," Hermes replied changing the subject, as if he had not heard the irrational words of his son. “You don't know how lucky we are to live by the sea,” the tanned fisherman, already in his thirties, spoke to him with tenderness as he guided them toward the coast. He held the tiller firmly with one hand and with the other played with the line to keep the sail blowing in the wind. “The sensation of the waves splashing on my face makes all our efforts worth it. No adventure will make you happier, my son. Besides, a soldier's work is very unrewarding. There is no happiness or merit in taking the life of another human being.”

"That might be so, but I’d like to visit other places and I can’t think how else to do it, although I also like to fish," Almices added resigned. “And I like to sail too, especially when the wind pushes us fast, or when you tilt the boat so much that touching the water with your hands is effortless.”

"You're right, Almices; but don't tell your mother. God only knows she doesn't like us to play with our food.” The father smiled satisfied as he watched his son place the rest of the fish in the wicker baskets on the floor that had been caulked a thousand times with different types of wood, forming an irregular mosaic that was repeated throughout the boat. He had taught him well. He was sure that, if his wife let him, he could go fishing alone. “Come, take the tiller for a while. It’s not every day you turn ten years old and we have to celebrate. You’ve got to see the dinner that your mother is preparing for tonight.”

Almices returned a look of complicity to him. In theory he was forbidden to take the helm. His mother had always been frightened by the sea; in fact, she never sailed. She did not even approach the shore to dip her toes in the water on hot summer days. However, when Almices was alone with his father, without his sisters there to tattle on him, it was always a good enough excuse for Hermes to give him command of the boat. And he enjoyed it. He knew it was in his blood. His grandparents, even his great-grandparents, had been sailors or fishermen. And although some of them were taken by the violent sea, it was still the best experience in the world to surf the waves, control the wind and sometimes, always away from the coast to avoid unwanted explanations, compete with the other fishermen’s children until they got caught. Time at the helm flew by.

Hermes enjoyed watching his son guide the boat back home. The truth is that the boy did nothing wrong. He was very proud of him. How quickly he had grown. Time had flown by. He was no longer his little baby; he was becoming a man. The first time he went sailing he was barely two years old. He remembered his wobbly, unstable walk and his mother’s remarks were still vivid in his memory. That day little Almices did not cry. He stayed in the middle of the boat the entire time, with his eyes wide open and a huge smile engraved on his face as he watched the sea around him. Hermes cast his mind back, to the time when he himself experienced the sea for the first time. He would have been six or seven and his older brother was sick, his father took him by his shoulders and told him that he was also a man, that he would have to take his brother's place on the boat for a few days. Never before had he stepped foot on one, but since then he had never been separated from the sea. It captivated him, and he could now see that same intoxicating spell in Almices’ eyes, yet his life was not all joyous. He would have been about fifteen years old when Syrian sailors confiscated the fruits of a long day's work; then confiscated the nets and penalized their father and him. It was a miracle that they did not capture them and taken them from their home. Since then, every time he saw an unknown ship, he varied the course, even if that change was imperceptible. His memory flipped to remember the last unknown ship, spotted at dawn.

“What are you thinking about, father?”

Hermes remained absorbed, with his vision lost on the horizon.

“Why do you think the trireme that we saw at first light was so close to the island?” his father answered, now back in the present.

“I don't know. Maybe they’re carrying troops to the Island of Kos or chasing escaped slaves.”

The father nodded and looked up toward the coast.

"Well, we are already close. Time to pass me the tiller.”

Almices obeyed reluctantly. The eastern part of the coast of the island of Samos was somewhat rugged. Some reefs broke very close to the surface and it was easy to damage the boat.

Pines, oaks, and tamarinds were intermingled very close to the shore, leaving some clearings on the coast. They turned to a small peninsula and headed for a charming little cove with crystal clear water. They could already see the Theopoulos’ house , their home, from there. Although somewhat elevated over the sea, it was near the small jetty; about a hundred steps away, Almices calculated. Most of the fishermen lived by the large cove, behind a small, rocky hill, but his father and another fisherman, Andreas, who had the house right at the foot of the hill, had decided to build a wharf in the little cove because this way their things were more at hand and they did not have to explain themselves as often to their neighbours. The only one who ever complained was his mother, because the water of the stream was a little further away for her than the women of the large cove.

“Get ready to tie the rope to the jetty.”

Almices nodded and headed to the bow, holding the folds of his clothes so as not to stumble then grasped the rope as he prepared to jump to the ground.

The boy leaped and reached the precarious dock and tightened the rope. It was not long before the boat was well moored next to its neighbour.

“Well done, son," his father approved. “Now collect all the rope and fold the sail well while I take the fish. Tomorrow we can take advantage of the bad weather and clean up thoroughly. Do not mess about for too long. It's already noon and won’t be long before we eat.” He grabbed the two fish baskets and turned to the beach.

Almices stayed, carefully picking up the patched-up sail and tying it firmly to the boom. He then set out to pick up some of the rope scattered on deck. He grabbed the ends and ravelled them up, just as his father had taught him, thus preventing them from getting tangled between the feet during crossings. Just as he was finishing up, he heard his father calling him from the beach.

“Almices, come. Run!”

The boy stood up and saw that his father was halfway to the house, bent over what looked like bales by the shore. He had put the baskets aside and waved one arm vigorously for him to hurry. Almices left the last line half rolled up and ran barefoot towards the beach. As he approached his father, the bales on the ground looked more human-like. When he reached them, they turned out to be two men soaked and covered in sand, with half their bodies still in the water.

“Come on, son. Help me get them out of the water.”

His father tried to turn one of the men over to stop him from swallowing more water.

“Father, he weighs too much," Almices complained as he tried to get the other one out. He must have been as heavy as the old village inn keeper with the old belly, Almices thought.

“Don't worry, son. I’ll take him out.”

He left the first man, the slimmer and slightly taller one, lying on the dry sand, then grabbed the arm of the second man. The father and his son used all the strength they could muster, and after several attempts they managed to get him out of the water as well.

Almices looked both surprised and worried at the two castaways, while his father examined them carefully and laid them on their sides to cough up the swallowed water. Their garments were very different from his own. They wore bright purple tunics, torn by the coast. And while they did not look Greek, Almices could not identify where they came from, although he had not met many foreigners in the village either.

“Go call your mother to give me a hand, then take your sisters to the boat to finish collecting the nets and mending them. In the meantime, your mother and I will dry them and take them home, then come to find you for dinner. Also ask her to bring some water and dry clothes.”

Hermes pressed his son with his hand and Almices obeyed running toward the house.

Almices pushed hard on the open door and ran into the house.

“Hi, mother!” he exclaimed with a gasp as he looked for her.

“Hello, son, what’s happened? Why are you so out of breath?”

Sitting next to the window, she peeled onions in her lap for the meal. Her face, wildly marked by smallpox and a difficult childhood, revealed surprise at her son's hasty arrival.

“Happy birthday!” Janira, Almices' little sister, who was only four years old, exclaimed, holding on tightly to his waist as she jumped up and down to kiss his face.

“Thank you," her brother replied caressing her hair. “Mother, we found two men half drowned on the beach and father says you need to go with water and dry clothes,” he answered his mother, still tired from rushing home as he smiled at his little sister.

“I’ll go right away. Look after your little sister, the other two have gone to the cave to play.” The onions fell to the ground as she hurriedly got up. There was no way they could have a peaceful home, the woman moaned to herself; something always came up that disturbed them.

“I’ll pick them up for you," Almices offered. “Father said that we should repair the nets and that you’ll come looking for us, so I’ll take Janira to get them and repair them in the cave.” His mother nodded as she grabbed a water bottle and some dry shirts.

The three of them left the house at the same time. The mother headed to the beach while Almices took a little detour with his sister, so that she would not see the castaways. Their mother recommended this so that Janira would not get frightened at the sight of potentially injured men in terrible condition.

The two siblings walked alongside the tamarinds that lined the beach holding hands. Janira wanted to go with her mother to see what all the fuss was about. She fought hard to break free from her brother's hand, he almost had to drag her to the boat. He won after bribing her with a game as soon as they found their sisters. Upon arriving at the jetty, he looked at the beach and found that the castaways were already conscious and seated, while their parents dried them. He also saw in the distance the unmistakable silhouette of his neighbour Andreas disappearing alongside the tamarinds. He was a strange man, he thought. He did not associate himself with anyone in the village. He had only seen him speak with his father once, beside that it was menial greetings and small talk about the weather.

The cave was located just across from the cove in the west. Access to the cave was easy despite the fact that the entrance to the cave was hidden from view by a curious bend in the rocks. In fact, many of the inhabitants of the village did not even remember its existence. It consisted of a small cavity in the rocky wall, that continued to go into the sea. There was only one chamber, wide enough for a dozen people to lie down, however the entrance was huge and did not protect the interior from adverse weather conditions, so it had never been inhabited as a house and had become the Theopoulos children’s favourite place.

Janira and Almices entered the cave with one of the nets. Their sisters Telma and Nerisa were there, sitting in a corner sorting the shells they collected early on as they walked along the beach. Telma's chestnut curls fell in front of her bright honey-coloured eyes. Her father knew she was going to be a good wife. She was fourteen years old and almost ready to leave his house and marry a fisherman from the village. Her slim body, her correct manners, her basic knowledge of Greek writing was all just as good as Almices’. That was a topic that his father considered of vital importance. He had never had the opportunity to learn. He made Almices teach his sister everything he had learned from the village elder, even though their mother thought writing utterly useless. All this made her a good candidate for the best young men in the village. Hermes had even spoken to a few families behind the backs of his wife and eldest daughter.

Nerisa was nine years old, one year younger than Almices, she was mischievous and energetic. Their mother believed that Zeus got her wrong, that she should have been a man. All the finesse and delicacy of her older sister were missing from her. She may have a girl’s body with swirling hair, but her arms and legs were full of scratches from jumping, playing, and chasing cats or butterflies. Her restless honey-coloured eyes, similar to those of her older sister, reflected the vividness of her movements.

“Hello, Nerisa. Hi Telma. Don't you get bored playing the same thing all the time?” Almices asked them, looking at the shells.

“We are separating the razor shells, clams and cowries that we collected from the beach this morning,” Nerisa replied, smiling.

“Look Janira, we have found two starfish and also a giant snail,” Telma interrupted. She stood up and grabbed her little sister's hand to show her their findings. “Look, this broken shell looks like the birth mark we have on our legs.” Janira crouched to check the similarity of the shell to the birth mark that characterized the four siblings. She smiled at the resemblance and, without giving it more importance, sat down to play with the shells.

“Father has said that we have to mend this net before we eat,” Almices emphasized with authority as he took it out of the bale that he carried on his back.

“Let them play. We can mend it without them.” Telma stood up, inspecting the net with expert eyes. “Have you brought everything you need?” Almices nodded.

They stayed in the cave until noon. The younger two played with the shells, grouping them in different orders; first by shapes, then by colours, splitting them up and changing them. Telma and Almices first cleaned the already dry net, then set about mending it like confident professionals. By the time they finished Almices had already told Telma about the castaways and, as it was past noon, offered to see if they could already go to eat. The young man crossed the rocks next to the cave and bumped into his father.

“Hello, son, I came to find you to eat. Go with your mother and I’ll get your sisters.” Almices nodded and left toward the house as his father entered the cave to get the girls.

The sun timidly reached its peak and began the afternoon when everyone arrived at the house. Almices stayed inside with his mother. Outside, next to a corner of the house, the two castaways remained huddled and covered with a blanket, leaning on the wall, and warming up in the sun. Their gazes were empty and lost in the blue of the horizon. The girls looked at them amidst whispers of ill-disguised curiosity. Their father brought them in, spoke for a moment with the castaways and then met his family inside. The table, made of old boards, was flanked by two elongated benches. On one were the three little ones, Almices, Nerisa and Janira. The other remained empty.

“Niobe, we’re all here. What’s for dinner?”

His wife approached the table with a dish.

“Hermes let the food cool down,” was his wife's short, sharp response while sitting. “Telma, you sit down too.”

The eldest finished putting the olive wood buckets on the table, filled them with the water jug and took a seat between her parents, like a wall between two borders.

Hermes, fearful of the natural and supernatural forces of the world, raised his hands thanking the Gods for the food they were going to eat, while murmuring a simple prayer. The children, quiet, listened attentively to their father while Niobe’s gaze was fixed outside the window. Hermes finished his prayer and made a gesture to start eating. Only one dish full of food reigned on the table. Inside it, boiled vegetables were accompanied by various different tasty pieces of fish. Hermes had explicitly set them aside from the sale for his son's birthday. Janira stretched her hand decisively and took a piece of bass. Almices, Telma and Nerisa followed suit, while Niobe threw icy, penetrating looks at her husband.

“You could have told me before you helped them. You never tell me anything. You don't know who they are or where they come from,” she whispered accusingly as she looked sternly at the wall upon which the castaways rested, hidden from their sight, absorbed in their own thoughts.

“Helping people in need is not something that needs to be discussed; it is our duty," Hermes answered with a calm voice. “The sea doesn’t understand tribes or races or social classes, it treats us all equally. You seem to forget that your father, like mine, died at the sea.” His wife lowered her eyes, remembering her father. Her husband's comment hit a nerve. “Poseidon can be very convincing when he wants; and if our guests survived, who are we to question divine justice.”

“They'll bring us problems. They're foreigners, you know it's not a good idea to bring them here.” quipped Niobe, denying her husband's reasoning with her head. Their children listened without interrupting as they ate.

“They are Carthaginians. They have thanked me and asked me to let them leave as soon as possible; but I have refused, they have to recover their strength first and cannot continue the journey as they are.”

Niobe threw her hands in the air. Her patience was about to run out.

“They ask you to leave and you tell them no. Do you never think of me?”

“Our children must learn what is right and what is not. These men need help and no Theopoulos will deny it. There will be no discussion about it,” Hermes said sharply.

“You're right, father," Nerisa said nodding.

“This is an adult conversation!” her mother glared at her. The little girl cowered her head.

“What happened to them?” Almices asked in an attempt to smooth the situation.

“It will be better for them to explain it to us themselves. For now, let’s eat in peace and when we’re finished, they’ll come in. They grabbed some food earlier and decided to let us eat as a family. They will tell us everything and we’ll let them sleep for a while to regain strength.”

There was tension in the air during the meal, a deep silence, a silence that no one broke. They finished up the meal with red apples and Telma stood up to prepare a pot of tea.

“Almices, go and ask them politely if they want to come in for some tea”.

The young man stood hesitantly.

“Father, I don't speak Carthaginian”, he apologized.

“Don't worry, they speak Greek and understand us perfectly”, his father clarified, smiling.

Almices re-entered and held the door open for the castaways. The two men entered slowly, leaning in a way of greeting, and still wrapped in blankets. Telma approached the table with two stools and served the steaming hot drink.

“Please sit, friends.” Hermes stood up and pointed to the stools.

“Thank you," the newcomers replied in Greek.

“These are my children. Today is Almices’ tenth birthday and he is already a good fisherman.” The young man blushed at the compliment. “Telma is the oldest of my daughters. We have to start looking for a husband soon to give us strong grandchildren. Nerisa and Janira are the little ones and their laughter fills our house with joy.” The girls laughed as Telma blushed.

“We are very grateful for your hospitality," the chubbier of the Carthaginians spoke different Greek, but that was well understood. “We’ve had a very difficult couple of days.”

He looked at his partner who nodded in agreement.

“What exactly happened to you?" asked Almices with indiscreet curiosity. “How did you get here?”

“You see boy, it’s a long story. It goes back several months. We don't want to bore you.”

“Go ahead. We would like to know your story, if it’s no inconvenience to you," Hermes encouraged them, grasping his hot brew in his hands.

“Okay... As I said, it all began several months ago, when Agathocles of Messina died. Do you know Messina?”

The children looked at them puzzled. Hermes looking at his wife nodded without being sure.

“It’s a city on the island of Sicily, an island like yours, but much larger. Well, upon the death of Agathocles, his elite guard called Mamertines or sons of Mars, rebelled against the power of Syracuse with the intention of turning Messina into an independent kingdom.”

The children and their parents listened attentively.

“Hieron, the new legitimate king of Sicily" continued the other castaway, "defeated them and besieged the city of Messina. Then the Mamertines asked Rome for help, and in the face of so much inequality Hieron asked in turn for help from our city, Carthage, to strengthen his kingdom so that the Romans would not snatch it from them in a setback of the conflict, since the city of Messina is located in a very important strategic place that controls the passage of all goods to the Italian peninsula.

“We had the situation under control” the larger castaway continued, “when the Roman troops, commanded by the Roman Consul Claudius, surprised us by landing behind our lines and defeating King Hieron’s troops to attack us later at our base at Cape Pelorus. The fact is that the Roman army was impressive, very well organized; even so, we almost defeated it, but the battle extended to the sea and several ships, including ours, were separated from the main group. The Romans realized and a half dozen Roman triremes chased us down. They certainly thought that Hieron himself or some of his relatives were aboard one of our ships. The first day they destroyed the other two ships. We managed to flee for days until we had your island in sight.” He took a sip of tea to rinse his throat. “Finally, last night they caught us. They approached us by surprise and carnage broke out on board. Three of us dove into the sea and managed to escape the massacre.”

“But there's only two of you," Almices interrupted with anxiety.

“Yes, you're right. Ascipo drowned shortly before dawn.”

The foreigner's expression was bleak.

“We’re sorry to hear that," Hermes wanted to apologize for his son’s indiscretion.

"Don't worry, these things happen. The destiny that the Gods hold us to is undeniable, as Melkart and Eshmun know well. We must now prepare to return to our country as soon as possible. We do not know what will have happened in Sicily.”

“This morning, my son and I saw a Roman ship hovering near here.”

“It is possible. The Romans are experts in finding and killing castaways. There may be others that have also managed to flee.”

The children were still transfixed on the story.

“Well, I guess you'll be tired, and you'd like to sleep a little bit," Hermes interrupted, who did not want the castaways to go into more vivid details in front of their children. He stood up and told his children the same thing. “We have other chores, so take advantage and rest. My wife has prepared the beds so that you can rest comfortably. Tomorrow we can plan your departure. Maybe a boat can take you to one of your colonies.”

“We are very grateful to you. Fortunately, we found lands where Rome has less influence. They still fear what were the lands of Alexander the Great.”

“Indeed, our island is ruled by Ptolemy of Egypt. You should be safe from the Romans here," their host comforted them.

The children left the house. The stories the castaways told had transported them to places they did not even know existed. They spoke of battles that they only heard about in the narratives of their Gods and the ancient Greek heroes, battles that on the other hand seemed distant to them also in time. After all, in Samos the only external danger threatening them was pirate invasion, although that only happened on the high seas.

Telma, who noticed how the story had affected her little sister, took Janira in her arms, carefully explaining that the Carthaginians had exaggerated their history a little, that the Romans and no one did those bad things and that she had no need to worry. Meanwhile, Nerisa and Almices commented on the story that the castaways had told them, imagining the situations the Carthaginian sailors experienced and the wonderful places where they came from.

Hermes left the house after a while and looked at Niobe with anger. She was still angry, looking at the horizon with a stern expression. She regretted that she was so cold to others. He briefly thought about reassuring her, but changed his mind and turned to his children.

“Telma, Almices, today has been an unusual day. Go to the cave to play and we’ll find you later for dinner. Our guests will have regained some strength by then. In the meantime, we will take the fish to Andreas so he can take it to the tavern to sell. At this hour we will get little for it, but it’s better than nothing.”

The children agreed and walked along the shore to the jetty and take the path that led them to the cave. They could hear the murmur of the sea perfectly from here. The soft sea breeze had been transformed into a happy air that curled the backs of the waves, small peaks of foam.

When they arrived next to the jetty, Almices approached the boat to check that it was well moored. Although the little cove was well protected by the sea, you could never be too sure. His sisters waited for him to finish and collected another net that was already completely dry, to mend in the cave. The air was hardly noticeable inside the cave. It blew from the side opposite the entrance and provided a pleasant temperature in their play space. Janira and Nerisa continued to play with their shells while Telma and Almices worked with the net.

The afternoon flew by for all four. When Telma and Almices finished the net, they took the young girls and set up to collect small crabs and limpets that lived between the rocks by the sea. The tiny puddles, formed on the eroded rocks when the tide went out, served as perfect makeshift containers for the crabs. They were somewhat warmer and more protected than at sea. Their haul was plentiful and entertaining. Nerisa found a small octopus in the shallows and had a good time trying to get it out of the rocks.

“It’s almost dusk, Almices. We should go home, don't you think?”

Telma was looking forward to rest; spending a whole day with her sisters could be exhausting. She also regretted not being able to take the fish to the tavern, so she could see the handsome son of the inn keeper. She hoped her father would arrange the wedding with him. She should suggest it more clearly the next time they talk.

“You're right, they should have come for us by now. Stay with the little ones while I take the nets home and ask them if we can go to dinner now.”

Almices took the nets and left the cave by the usual path. He began walking along the beach over the wet sand toward the jetty The wind crashed tiny grains of sand against his legs. Along the way he imagined sailing along the wide sea on board a large ship and anchoring in all the ports. The sun had just disappeared behind the mountains and its light was beginning fade. He looked at his house and noticed the light from the home behind the worn-out planks that closed the window. He passed in front of the jetty and thought of leaving the nets on the boat; but his father did not like to leave them there at night and since they broke during a storm a year ago, he decided to take them straight home.

He was already close when a harrowing cry from inside the house overtook him. He could have sworn that was his father. There was a moment of silence, which felt like an eternity and then the door opened suddenly. Almices instinctively threw himself to the floor alongside a small tamarind, for fear of being discovered. He began to sweat. Three burly men left the house dragging a body that he recognized as the thinnest Carthaginian. They spoke agitatedly in a strange language. Their brown-coloured clothes made them look darker.

He waited crouching behind the branches, hidden in the growing darkness for the strangers to turn away in the direction of the little pine forest behind the house. Without knowing what to do he decided to go in. There were no noises and the door had been left open. He threw the nets down a few steps away. He moved slowly and silently. There was no movement inside.

Fear gripped the young boy and his hair stood on end. Almices would not know if it was an irrational impulse or his innate curiosity that finally made him overcome his fears and move slowly into his house. He was astonished. He could not believe the scene that appeared before his eyes.

II

“Enough now!” Telma exclaimed, irritated as Janira poured sand on Nerisa's head. “When we get home, I am going to tell. Mother has told you not to throw sand at her.”

“Nerisa started it," laughed Janira and she gathered more wet sand to spread on her victims.

“They must be about to arrive. You know how mother gets when you ignore her.” Janira seemed to seriously reconsider for a moment in the face of the threat, then threw sand at his sisters. All three of them laughed.

Almices felt like his legs barely supported him. The fat Carthaginian was lying on his side in front of the door, with a large wound that gushed blood on the floor, forming an arch that reached the boy's feet. Almices barely looked at him; he was more focused on his parents. His mother was lying on the table with a knife in her neck. His father was close by, laying face up on the floor. He had a large chest wound and a deep red cut in his neck. Almices approached him. His body, though warm, remained lifeless and the young man recognized death in the open eyes of the man who gave him life. Suddenly his whole world turned upside down. He ran out of the house with a mouth full of bile. A cold sweat had taken over his body and he struggled to breath. What had happened? Why had their parents been killed? What should they do now? There were no answers to all the questions that filled his head, trying to escape like a swarm of bees. He ran with all his might toward Andreas's house to ask for help.

His neighbour lived in the house close by, about fifty or sixty steps away. It was located on one side of the Theopoulos’ house, and although the proximity between the two was visible from the beach, you could not see one from the other. A small, thick group of trees and shrubs sat between them, keeping them in relative isolation.

He arrived at his neighbour’s home when he suddenly remembered the three men who had left for the pine forest moments earlier, and instinctively became stealthy. He advanced to the edge of the trees, trying to control his disturbed breathing that became even more disturbed when he saw his neighbour speaking to one of them. He did not know what to do. He had to warn Andreas of what they had done to his parents, warn him about how dangerous they were; but fear prevented him. He was paralyzed, crouched between the lower branches of the trees. Andreas looked happy. The other man took a bag out of his tunic and gave it to the fisherman, tinkling slightly as he weighed it in his hand. It was full of coins, Almices thought and he clenched his teeth. What a fool he thought. He suddenly saw more clearly. Andreas had helped them! Surely, he wanted to keep his father's house for himself, and when he saw them on the beach in the morning, he must have somehow warned the Romans chasing the castaways. They must have been Romans allied with the Mamertines that the Carthaginians had told them about, he was sure. He felt angry and scared. He had to warn his sisters immediately. He began to retreat slowly and quietly, afraid of being discovered. As soon as he could, he got up and went home. Then he passed right by. The door was still open, but he did not want to look. He ran with all his strength towards the cave.

"About time, what took you so long?" Telma, who stayed by the cave’s entrance, had seen her brother approach in the twilight. She had already lost patience with her sisters and was eager to leave. “We've been waiting for you for ages!”

"I didn't know what to do," Almices’ voice choked and the tears that ran down his cheeks worried Telma.

"Why are you crying? What happened?” Telma insisted, losing her cool.

"They are dead," were the only words Almices could muster before breaking down. His sister took him in her arms and tried to calm him down.

"Sit down, Almices, and tell me calmly what happened,” she tried to reassure him. The two younger sisters, who had stopped playing after the arrival of their brother, approached them to find out what had happened.

"I saw some men leave when I was approaching home," Almices babbled. “I heard a cry first and didn't think it was important, but as I approached, I saw the men dragging one of the castaways away.” He wiped some snot away. “I waited a moment for them to go away, and when I went inside, I saw mother and father. They had killed them.” He hugged his sister and tried to control his sobs.

"What's all this nonsense, brother?” Telma refused to believe him. “Stop joking, I’ve already lost my patience with your sisters today,” she chided, stepping back to look in his eyes.

"You have to believe me, Telma," Almices replied. “It's true, mother has a knife in the back of her head. Father is not breathing and also has many injuries. The other castaway is also dead.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself and process his thoughts. “I didn't know what to do so I ran to look for Andreas. As I approached his house, he was leaving. He was talking to one of the men,” while Almices spoke Telma's eyes welled up and reflected his growing anguish. “Andreas and the other spoke as if they were good friends, then the man pulled out a small bag that looked like money and handed it to Andreas. I was very afraid, so I ran away without being seen.”

"Come on, let’s go home and stop with the nonsense. Almices, you know I don’t like it when you joke," Telma did not want to believe her brother's story. The little ones, who listened intently without understanding, began to cry.

The weather was getting worse. The wind began to blow insistently pushing the waves against the coast. The four huddled together as they left the cave to protect each other from the rising cold of the night. They began to walk slowly toward the house in silence. Janira did not understand what was going on; she saw her siblings talking and knew something strange was happening. She was quiet and withdrawn as if she were responsible for the whole situation. Nerisa cried. Telma tried to make her feel better, saying that Almices had had a nightmare and that what he had said in the cave was just a bad dream, although she did not sound convincing. Almices could not stop himself from crying.

After a while they arrived by the jetty. Almices stopped Telma by gently holding her arm.

"It will be better for the little ones to wait here, Telma. I don’t think they should go inside.”

“Okay now! Almices, it's all in your head; father and mother are fine, you don't have to worry," Telma replied nervously.

"Telma please, don’t let them in." Almices' pleading eyes eventually convinced his sister, who was already starting to believe him. The older sister turned to the little ones, not knowing what to say.

"Nerisa, I want you to stay here with Janira. I need you to stop crying and take care of her while Almices and I go and see what has happened. Can you take care of Janira? "The little girl nodded and wiped her nose. She took the little girl and sat beside her on the beach. The wind continued to blow and forced them to turn to stop sand from getting in their eyes.

"Janira," Telma turned to the youngest, “I want you to stay with Nerisa and find more shells while Almices and I go home to look for mother, okay?” The little girl smiled and nodded, leaned toward the sand, and started to look for shells in the growing darkness.

Telma and Almices began towards the house. She held his hand tightly and noticed he was shaking. They slowed as they approached, frightened that someone would suddenly appear from the shadows of the trees. They stopped a few steps from the entrance. There was no movement around them. Everything was quiet; too quiet, Telma thought. The door was still open, exactly how Almices had left it.

They stopped in the doorway, suddenly scared to look inside. They looked at each other and Telma realized then that her brother had told the truth. A cold sweat descended on her and she felt her heart racing. She clenched her fists harder and entered. The bitter smell of blood permeated her senses. Telma saw the body of the Carthaginian, just as Almices had said. His blood soaked the soil, and the odour was nauseating. Several steps away was her father. Telma crouched next to him with tears in her eyes, utterly speechless. She raised her head a little and tenderly kissed his forehead. The contact of her lips with the warm and lifeless body provoked a whirlwind of emotions that almost caused her to feel faint. Almices rested a hand on his sister's shoulder, more to comfort himself than her. A few moments passed, which seemed to them an immensity full of feelings and emotions. Telma left her father on the floor with all the love she could muster. She realized that her hands were soaked in blood. She rose, a little dizzy, to get closer to her mother. Almices helped her to get around her father's body and to the table. It became clear to her that her mother's death had come by surprise. It had come from behind, a gloomy confirmation of the mistrust that she had always shown for the rest of the human race; her rigid, heavy body, lying face down on the table, had a shabby knife stuck in the base of her skull. There were utensils on the floor next to her, pots and pans too, as if the killers had suddenly appeared while she was preparing dinner. The benches of the table were broken on the ground, suggested there was a struggle. Telma figured her father and the Carthaginians had defended themselves with all their strength. Hermes had numerous cuts in the arms and torso. That was certainly not a sign of a fair fight.

"Telma, what are we going to do?” Almices, his eyes once again filled with tears, asked his sister the question, hoping she might bring their parents back and wake him from a dream.

"I don't understand. I do not know who could have done this. They have never hurt anyone.” The young woman dried her eyes. Her bloody hands marked her face.

"Surely they were Romans. They took away the other castaway alive, remember. If they had been thieves, they would have killed everyone.” She looked around the room again.

"Let’s go to the tavern to ask for help. Telemaco will help us.” She was convinced that the inn keeper’s son could find them help and shelter. She needed that to happen. They had no one else. “Then we’ll come back to get father and mother.”

“Okay, let's go. Quickly, the girls are still by the boat, it would not be good if they got tired of waiting and came here.”

They went out carefully and headed toward the village, deciding to pass by Andreas's house to shorten the distance. Remembering his conversation with their parents' killers, they decided to be stealthy. Close to their neighbour’s house, they heard footsteps. They hid by the trees and the darkness of the night helped to veil them.

"We must not leave any evidence. It has to look like a robbery.”

"Don't worry. I will honour the agreement," Andreas answered. “I will take care of the body of the man you brought here, then I’ll go to the Theopoulos’ house to finish the work.”

"Make sure you put everything in place, I don't want any witnesses." Now Telma and Almices could distinguish them perfectly between the trees. The speaker wore a brown tunic that partially covered a leather pectoral.

"Don't worry. I will take care of their children too. I know they are in the cave on the beach and will wait for their father to collect them. I know they have been sleeping there. Tomorrow it will be the talk of the village; the thieves have even killed their children.” Andreas laughed mockingly and spat where the siblings were hiding.

"Come, let's toast to a job well done.” The Roman slapped Andreas on the shoulder. “We never disappoint those who help us. You have already received part of your reward; the rest will come tomorrow. Look for it tomorrow in the village. We will wait in the tavern until the sun starts to rise.” The two men walked away until they entered Andreas’ house.

Telma was angry. Her bitterness and bewilderment became consumed by anger. Her brother had to hold her down when they heard their neighbour incriminating himself. They waited until the men had gone inside.

"We can't go to the tavern now, Telma.”

"But we have to ask for help. There’s nowhere else to go.”

"Help in the tavern? You just heard that they are staying there, we cannot go there. They do not want witnesses and now we know they also murdered the other Carthaginian; it must be his body they referred to, and that Andreas will bury him here and then come for us. Not even Telemaco and his father could help us.”

"What can we do then, Almices?” The girl felt numb, she did not know what to do.

"We have to leave, Telma," Almices decided, "let’s get what we need and go with our sisters. The first thing they will do is try to get rid of us.”

"Where will we go, Almices? We have no-one to turn to. We're lost.”

"Yes, we do.” Almices' face lit up. “We can go to Uncle Castor. Last year father and I visited him. Don’t you remember?”

"We don't know where he lives. We do not even know if he’ll want visitors. Even our mother couldn't visit him, remember.”

"He lives on the island of Kos. I know it will be difficult to find, but we have nobody left. I think I remember the inlet where he lives.” Almices hugged his sister. They did not know which way to go and they certainly could not afford to waste more time. “Come on, Telma. Let’s go home for some food and water and get the girls, they must miss us.”

They entered their house again. The room was still lit by the lights that Hermes had turned on at sunset. The reflection of the flames spread throughout the house, tiling over the lifeless bodies. Worried that Andreas would suddenly appear, the young siblings collected as many supplies as they could carry, constantly glancing over at their parents. Almices told Telma that the trip might last a couple of days, but it was better to be safe. The boy approached a small hole in the wall where he knew his father kept some coins of little value, as if it were a real treasure. They might be needed. He glanced sideways at his father, feeling guilty for taking the money that had taken so much time and effort to save. Meanwhile Telma gathered dry fish and fruit in a large basket. She also found two water-filled skins that her mother brought from the village early in the morning. A noise by the door distracted them.

"What was that?” Telma stood up “Andreas?”

“A rat," replied Almices, disgusted, pointing at the animal that was sniffing the Carthaginian’s blood.

"Come, let's go now. Andreas could arrive at any time.” Almices nodded. He approached his mother and kissed her fondly for the last time. He then knelt in front of his father and prayed for the strength to be able to guide his sisters to safety. Telma also said goodbye to them. Before leaving, she took two coins from her brother's bag and put them into her parents' mouths so that they could pay the boatman Caronte on his trip to Hades. They got up in sorrow and went stealthily to the jetty, looking back in case they saw Andreas approaching.

It seemed that the wind had died down a little and the waning moon was rising providing a poor light to the night. The siblings quickly walked away, thinking about everything they left behind. Almices remembered with sadness how his father had let him work the tiller in the morning. How quickly their lives had changed in just a few short hours.

"We forgot warm clothes.” Telma tried to retrace her steps.

“What are you doing? We can't go back. Andreas might be there already,” Almices stopped her. “What do you want the clothes for?”

"It's windy and the girls might suffer. The temperature will drop tonight, can’t you see the clouds?” She pointed at the sky. “Plus, we cannot leave mother and father like that.”

"It’s fine, there are several blankets on the boat in case of a problem, we can all keep warm with them. And we can’t do anything for our parents now, it’s too dangerous. Come, let's return to our sisters.”

The jetty was already visible in the twilight. As they approached, their faces reflected an added tension. They couldn’t see the girls anywhere.

"Where are they?” Telma's voice sounded grave. “I told them not to move.”

“I don't know, they may have returned to the cave.”

“Let's call them.”

"No!” Almices’ voice was sharp. He thought about Andreas. They cannot be found. He stopped to look at the boat.

They reached the jetty and there was no trace of their sisters. Almices advanced over the whimpering wood until he reached the boat. The clouds had covered the scarce moon and it was hard to see the inside the boat.

"Are they there?” Telma felt distressed.

"I don't see anything. Wait for me to come up,” he said as he jumped. He didn't remember leaving the rope so untidy. He pulled them away.

"You’re here already?” Nerisa woke up yawning. Almices gave a sigh of relief.

"What a scare you gave me!” The young man took a step back. “Telma, they're here.” He heard his older sister walk across the jetty.

"Where is Janira?" Almices asked Nerisa. “I thought she was with you.”

"She’s here." She raised the nets that were still on the boat, exposing their little sister, who was in a deep sleep. “We were sleepy and didn’t want to bother you, so we came on the boat.” Almices smiled relieved as Telma approached.

"You had us worried. Good thing you're okay.”

"And Dad?” Nerisa was restless. By this time, they were usually fast asleep.

"Darling, dad and mum are no longer here.” Telma stroked her hair, trying to keep her composure. “Some men have entered the house and killed them. We have to leave; we can't go home.” She immediately regretted her bluntness.

"It can't be.” Nerisa started to cry. “I want to go to mum.” She tried to jump off the boat to run home but Almices held her arm.

"Sweetheart, we can't go home. We can't go back. Andreas wants to kill us too.” He hugged her.

"Almices, look!” Telma exclaimed as she pointed toward the house. In the darkness the illuminated entrance was hardly discernible. Almices observed the movement of a silhouette in the doorway.

"Andreas is already looking for us. Telma, ready the boat.” He let go of Nerisa and jumped to the jetty.

"What are you going to do, Almices? It won't take long for Andreas to get here.” The young man said nothing. He went over to Andreas's boat and slashed the man's sails with his knife.

"Run, Almices! He’s coming.” The boy turned to the house and watched as the silhouette increased in size. Their neighbour had already seen them. But his sails were already torn, and Almices threw the oars into the water before jumping back to the jetty.

"Telma, fast, cast off!” Almices shouted as he cut his neighbour’s moorings and pushed the boat to sea. He turned to the house and saw Andreas was almost on the jetty. Telma had freed the boat and the young man pushed it off and jumped inside.

"You, wait!” Andreas screamed at them from the jetty. Telma and Almices took the oars and rowed with all their strength. Andreas's boat was loose, and with the moorings broken and driven by the wind, it was already drifting out to sea.

"Wait, dam you!” Andreas, already at the end of the jetty, in a matter of seconds realised that the children were out of reach. He turned toward his boat and cursed when he saw it drifting away, slowly out to sea. He did not think twice, he jumped into the water to rescue his boat.

"Almices, Andreas has thrown himself into the water. He’s trying to retrieve his boat and chase us.” Nerisa looked fearfully at the coast and their neighbour.

"Don't worry, I tore the sails. Nerisa, grab my oar and keep rowing with Telma.” He passed the oar and without wasting time he raised the sail. He had done so many times, competing with the other fishermen’s children. The automatic movements made the ship ready in a short time. His sisters continued to commentate.

"Andreas is already on his boat!” Nerisa exclaimed terrified, and craned to see if their neighbour was approaching. The man had just gained his boat and started to unfold the sails. The wind was blowing again, and the sea was lashing with much more force. The clouds had cleared a wide space around the moon and its pale light lit the scene. Almices turned in time to see his neighbour raise his hands toward them, surely cursing the sails that the boy had slashed. The wind censored his string of insults.

"Telma, Nerisa, you can stop. The wind will propel us now. Andreas can’t reach us here.”

"I don't know if that’s a good idea Almices, it's getting windy and the waves are growing. I still fear for us.” Telma looked at the hectic sea with concern.

"Trust me, I know this area and we can sail without problems. We will sail south along the canal to get away from the coast and then east toward Kos. Then we will see how our uncle receives us; in the meantime, we will be safe from Andreas and those Romans. Now try to sleep a little bit.” Nerisa was as frightened by this night as the rest. She picked up one of the blankets and snuggled away from the wind with Janira, who continued to sleep deeply. Telma cradled another blanket, somewhat further away from her sisters, next to the bow. Almices was by the helm, ever a good steersman and he guided the ship from the rocky traps that he knew lurked here under the waves.

The hours passed and the wind raged. The waves strengthened, though they did not threaten the ship. Nerisa held Janira tightly. She was worried that an abrupt movement could throw her into the sea, so of course she couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about her parents. She did not understand what her older siblings had told her. Why couldn't she see her parents again? Why were they killed? Why must they flee? Too many questions for a nine-year-old girl. She wished she could tell her father she wanted to be a fisherman just like him. She had never dared to tell him before because there were no fishing girls in the village, nor fishing women; it was a man’s job. She remembered how jealous she felt of her brother when her father told him that he must go fishing every day with him. Her mother had never understood. She had once refused to help her because she wanted to go to sea with the men and was punished for two days, forced to stay at home. What would they say to her now? She continued to reminisce about her parents as tears ran down her cheeks in the same lilt as the waves hit the hull of the boat.

Telma remained curled in the bow feeling a little dizzy. She couldn’t understand the misfortune that had fallen on them. She blamed her neighbour, the inn keeper, for hosting the Romans. She blamed the castaways for washing upon their beach. She thought about how she would never see her beloved Telemaco again, but was surprised how little she cared. Her wedding intentions paled in comparison to the recent events. She constantly argued with her mother, but now she missed her so much. She spent many mornings methodically preparing the old recipes memorized by her mother. The scolding she received when she improvised and changed an ingredient. She never understood why her mother sometimes seemed to hate everyone, even though she knew that her childhood had not been easy. Now she felt alone in adversity, like the time she had fallen between the rocks by the beach and climbed up against a rising tide, insisting that her siblings move away and not worry about it; but Almices had gone in search of their parents anyway, who finally rescued her from the danger. Who would support them now? How would she take care of her brother and sisters? At times she began to understand the feelings her mother felt toward the rest of the world. People were not good. They seemed to take any chance to harm others, to take advantage of an outsiders' misgivings to thrive selfishly. She felt like an outsider, a fragile being, surrounded by danger.

Almices’ arms started to hurt. He had been sailing south for several hours and had gently turned to the east so that his sisters would not be disturbed by the change in direction. Shortly after setting off he had to lower the sails because the wind was threatening to blow. He had overcome the reefs of the cove and knew that Andreas would not be able to follow them. It would take hours to mend his sails and he had no oars to reach them. He cast his mind back to that morning when the he jumped onto the boat floor. He smiled with melancholy. He recalled his father talking to him cheerfully while he controlled the tiller with an accurate course to the cove. He felt his arm falter at the helm and grabbed it more forcefully. He would get to Kos, bring his siblings to safety and then, though he didn't know how, make Andreas pay for his betrayal. He didn't know if his uncle would welcome them, but he didn't too much care. If their uncle didn't want them with him, so be it. They had the boat, and he knew how to fish, they would get by. He lifted his eyes to heaven, imploring the protection of the gods.

III

After midnight, dense clouds hid the moon and darkness had taken over the immensity of the sea. Almices had no visual reference to follow his course. He began to doubt his ability to fulfil the trip he had proposed to his siblings. He clearly lacked the experience to be able to pilot the boat in these conditions, he was simply led by his intuition. He went almost an hour without seeing any stars to confirm the course. The wind had not increased; but since they had left the canal, formed between the island of Samos and the continent, the waves were more intense. The waves constantly splashed onto the deck and at times the crossing felt eternal. Telma was soaked and now sitting next to her sisters. Nerisa was still scared but nevertheless tried to console Janira, who had woken and not stopped crying or calling for her mother. Almices cursed himself for the course he had chosen. Instead of going directly east to the nearby continent, he went south to mislead both his neighbour and the Romans in case they had a ship in the other bay. Now he did not know how far they were from the continent, which on clear days was perfectly visible from Samos. He knew that the island of Kos was south of Samos, and therefore it was very difficult for them to get lost. The route he had traced with his father on his journey to the island had followed the coast of the continent to another stretch of it that almost reached Kos. Finally, they got their wish. The clouds parted to reveal the light of the moon. Almices scanned the horizon of dwindling darkness in search of a reference point that might lead back to a good path. Suddenly the boat turned sharply, it’s course marred by a wave. Telma, startled, grabbed the mast and the little ones grabbed her.

"Almices! What are you doing?” Nerisa yelled.

"I'm sorry," her brother apologized, rectifying the course. “We have land in front of us, but it’s too soon to be Kos or the continent.”

"Don't you know where we are?” The question made Almices nervous. The boy tried to remember the other fishermen’s descriptions of the nearby islands.

"I suppose it may be the island of Agathonisi. I have never been there with father. If so, we are on the right track; although it is a dangerous area, with many small islets around and we could get grounded. Better if we stay away from the coast and wait until dawn.”

"How far are we from Kos?”

“If this is the island I'm talking about, we still have a whole day's journey ahead, ahead, maybe more. We cannot continue toward her right now. We must keep our distance, so we do not run into trouble. I hope that the storm will subside and, if the clouds clear a little more, I might know for sure the direction I should take. Rest a little. Poseidon will soon call a truce.”

The dawn was long in coming. The girls remained quiet. Nerisa was no longer sure about being a fisherman; she did not think the sea was romantic any more. Telma, discomposed by the swaying of the boat, kept her eyes closed praying to herself. Janira had finally fallen asleep from pure exhaustion. Almices, tired of fighting the sea, struggled to keep the boat away from the coast. The storm had passed at last. He thanked the gods and stood on the bow of the ship. Now he could see the irregular coast of the island through the breaking light of dawn. He spotted several islets. It had to be Agathonisi. He rinsed his face and raised the sail to catch the wind. Soon the boat recovered its course.

At noon, the continental coast was once again on the horizon and the boy changed his course to the south. Fortunately, there was no trace of Andreas or the Romans. No doubt they had been misled. They had deviated from their initial course, but had now recovered it. The bad thing was that the clouds had reformed, threatening a storm similar to the night before. Although the girls had eaten, they were not feeling well. The lack of sailing experience had left them with seasickness that they could not shake.

The sun was setting when a strong wind rose that forced Almices to retract the entire sail. Telma and the young man started to row. The waves were heavy and soon it began to pour. When they looked out to sea, the sky looked like a watery mantle. Almices was determined to get closer to the coast. He didn't want to risk being approached by an unknown ship. The area was famous for pirates, but the risk from the sea was greater. The storm threatened to be much more intense than the night before.

The afternoon passed and the storm continued to grow. The boat was not far from the coast. Almices did not want to risk getting closer for fear of the rocks. Then they suffered a tremendous blow that sounded in their ears like a scraping moan.

"What happened?” Telma stood up hugging her sisters forcefully. The young man took a quick look at the deck.

"We have a leak.” Almices rose quickly to try to plug the gap that had formed in the bow. It wasn't a big hole, but the water was already threatening to flood the boat. They wouldn't get far if they didn't plug it. The little ones cried again, and the tension gripped them all.

"Can I help you?” Telma had stopped rowing to reassure her sisters and then approached the bow.

"Pass me the pitch and hemp. They are down there.” He pointed to a pine box wedged under one of the banks.

Telma was surprised at her brother's ability to solve the unexpected problem. They fixed the leak, but the storm was still raging, and they nervously discovered that Telma's neglected oar had disappeared, taken by the sea. With just one oar, guiding the ship in the middle of the ocean was a near-impossible mission. Almices decided to lift the sail, just by a third to use wind and thus guide the boat through the hectic waters.

The day gave way to the night and the wind accelerated. The momentum of the boat, even with so little sailing space, gave it an unmeasured speed. The hole was still leaking, but was not a concern at the moment. Almices calculated that, at that speed, they would arrive at Kos before dawn. The sail was being forced to its limits and he kept his eyes constantly fixed on it. The ties he had made to keep only part of the sail unfolded were loosened without warning and the entire sail suddenly inflated. The ship swung sharply toward the bow and the mast gave a dry roar. The children looked up. They saw that the sail had torn and was fluttering violently. The ship drifted through the strong waves. The four of them hugged each other, praying for the mast to withstand and to avoid the coastal breakers. Almices mustered some courage and tried to lower the rickety sail with the intention of repairing it. His efforts were fruitless, and he realized that it was impossible in the midst of the storm. With dusk they lost the reference of the coast. The boat was now carried by the whims of the waves and soon Almices did not know where the storm was pushing them.

Dawn surprised the Theopoulos boat. It had been a long, tense night in which they had finally fallen asleep one after the other. Telma was the first to wake and she checked quietly that all four were still on board. Despite some damage, the ship had endured the storm. She looked up at the remnants of the sail, then turned to look at the horizon. There was no land in sight. She was concerned, so woke her brother.

"Brother, wake up," she put her hand gently on his shoulder. Almices opened his eyes. Lying face up, he saw the sky was cloudy, but it didn't seem to be raining. He sat up.

"Good morning, Telma. How are you and the little ones?”

"Exhausted, it's been a very long night. I'm still dizzy. You fell asleep and then the little ones wet themselves.”

"Yes, I can smell it.” He gave them a loving look. They were still asleep. “Last night I was so exhausted it was hard for me to keep my eyes open,” he tried to excuse himself.

"Almices, I'm worried. I can't see land anywhere; we have to do something.”

"We don't have another sail on board. We will have to use one of the blankets as a sail.”

"Do you think it will work?" Telma was ready to pick up one of the blankets that was soaked by the storm.

Noon was approaching and the wind, as strong the day before, did not show signs of abating. Janira, tired by the rugged voyage, was alternating between sleep and waking, between sobs and nightmares. Nerisa had closed herself off. She woke up shortly after her older siblings and without a word curled up in a corner looking toward the sea as if she were a statue. Telma had tried to talk to her on several occasions but she only replied with monosyllables, her gaze fixed upon the horizon. The old blanket tied to the mast was so heavy that it wasn't even blowing in the breeze. Almices constantly tried to steer the boat eastward, fighting the current with one oar while Telma held the helm.

“A boat!” Nerisa exclaimed with hope in her voice. “Look Almices, a, boat, over there.” Nerisa pointed insistently to the port side. Her brother glanced to where she was pointing.

"We don't know if they are friend or foe, Nerisa. It’s better if they don’t see us. We must be cautious," Almices replied. Indeed, a small sail could be seen on the horizon.

“We won't be able to get anywhere like this, brother," Telma chipped in. “We’ve almost ran out of water and we don't know where the nearest land is. Maybe they can help us.”

"It's very risky," her brother insisted, doubting whether it would be the best.

"Almices, you’re just like mother, always distrusting people," his older sister responded. “We cannot risk any more, Janira has to rest, or we will lose her too. We have no choice but to ask for help.” Nerisa nodded in agreement.

"Okay, we'll turn to that boat, see if they can see us." He took over from his sister at the helm and changed direction, then began rowing with the only oar toward the boat that appeared to approach them.

The sail was slowly approaching. The Theopoulos’ took for granted that they had been spotted. Almices calculated they were about five hundred stokes away when the ship turned to them. The die was cast. They had some money, if they were fishermen the children hoped they could pay their way to Kos; if they were not, better that everything happened quickly, the boy thought. It was a much larger vessel than the battered boat of Hermes Theopoulos. A large triangular sail pushed her decisively toward them. From the small boat they could see several people moving about on deck. The animation onboard warned Almices that they were preparing to board them, they began to retract the sail.

"Ahoy there! who are you?” a voice arose from the bow, a man with a strong complexion raised his hand with a friendly gesture. Almices was prepared to respond.

"We come from Samos, the storm broke the sail and we’ve been drifting. We need help getting to Kos.”

“Your ship is damaged, come on board, we’re going to Nisyros, which is next to Kos. I guess we'll be able to leave you somewhere on the island.”

The two ships were placed next to each other and the children went on board leaving the small boat empty, drifting by. The burly man who had spoken to them appeared before them.

"Good morning, children. I am Zamar, the captain of this ship, welcome.” He smiled sardonically. “These are my men.” He gestured to the crew. A dozen men of various ages, each more dishevelled and dirtier than the next. The siblings feared that they were not fishermen. Some of the sailors leered at Telma's breasts, which stood out thanks to the girl's clothing, still soaked by the storm. The ship was certainly large, had to have several compartments for the crew and considerable space for cargo. No nets were seen anywhere.

"Thank you for picking us up," said Almices. “What can we offer you as compensation?”

"Don't worry about that now, go and rest, and in a couple of hours we will eat and talk about everything.” The captain smiled, made a gesture to go below deck. The children, a little suspicious, felt exhausted, and after speaking briefly discussing the offer, ended up accepting the invitation.

The ship’s interior was sparse. They descended down some rough wooden steps and found themselves in the cellar. On both sides, some jars were irregularly stored near bunk beds that must be used by the crew. The sailor who guided them went to the bow and made them enter a small chamber. The sailor left, leaving the door open and the Theopoulos children relaxed. It was a small room, smaller than the deck; but it was dry and laying down they all fit perfectly. Almices and Telma were still uneasy, but their escape had been exhausting. They soon surrendered to sleep.

“Let me go, damn you! Get off me! Almices, help me!” Telma's screams woke her siblings up. The first thing Almices thought was that his sister was having a nightmare. He opened his eyes to see what was happening.

“Get off my sister!” The boy jumped up to defend her, but a tremendous punch made him fall on the little ones, who were screaming in fear.

“Stay there, brat!” The bearded sailor threatened. Almices got up again and without a second thought kicked the man between his legs. The surprised crewmember squirmed and howled in pain. The young boy jumped over him. Another sailor stuck out his leg and Almices fell flat on his face besides the ladder, at Zamar’s feet. The captain of the ship, strong and arrogant, was standing above him. Almices stared at his nose. It was large, half-crushed and deflated, a token of an unfortunate encounter with a powerful opponent. A thick scar covered his forehead, ending by the left eyebrow, giving him an even more fierce appearance.

“I ordered you to let them rest. Let go of her!” The sailors became defiant when they heard the captain's order.

“It's our reward," said one of his men, who was gripping Telma’s arm Zamar pulled out a small dagger without thinking drew it across the sailor’s throat.

“Let go of her! Right now!” his tone was sharp, leaving no room for doubt. The sailor released the girl. Telma crouched crying to her brother. “You three, go up on deck and don't let me catch you down here again.” He then bowed his eyes to the young ones. “As for you two, it will be better if you returned to your compartment. I apologise for my crew. They are men of the sea and lack the manners for how to treat guests. I assure you they will not bother you again.”

The two siblings, still startled, rose up and returned to their cabin. They hugged their sisters. Nobody spoke. Frightened, they didn't know if they could trust the captain of the ship. Zamar, who watched them leave mumbling something to himself as he also headed away. Noon passed and although they had a bucket full of water in their compartment, no one came down to offer them food. They refused to ask about it. Instead, they let the day pass in silence, thinking privately that it had been a mistake to climb into this ship, sharing looks of fear until late in the afternoon.

“Can you tell me what you were thinking, assholes?” Zamar asked, as he headed toward the three sailors in the privacy of his small deckhouse. “Are your heads filled with air?” One of the sailors, the one who caught Telma, spoke.

"Captain, you told us that we’d have our spoils on this trip and we thought…"

Zamar interrupted him, angry:

"You thought! You have no idea how to think! Don't you know how valuable those kids will be in Tyre? I’m sure they’re all still virgins, and I want them to stay that way!” he emphasized this by looking directly in their eyes. “Is that clear?” The three sailors nodded. “They don’t know how to sail. I just saw their boat. They want to go to Kos and so we’ll take them there.”

“But we can’t go to Kos. They’d hang us," interrupted another of the sailors with irony.

"You don't know a thing, stupid. It’s better for everyone if they think they are free, that way they’ll be less trouble when we get to Tyre. We’ve not been very lucky on this trip, but these children are worth much more than we can even imagine. I know we haven't been in port and resting for a while, but just wait. If any of you harm them even slightly, I will leave them at the first port we dock without pay or loot. I hope that is very clear. There is a lot of money at stake and I will not allow any of you to spoil it by behaving like animals.”

The ship was heading east. He sailed throughout the day; the calm sea and the gentle wind of the northwest were favourable to them. At sunset, the captain sent the children to their accommodation. A sailor went to look for them and them, hungry and unconfident, they rushed upstairs, staring at all the crew who were in their way.

"Go ahead, my friends," Zamar greeted smiling from the door. “I hope you managed to rest, we have had a lot of work up here and thought that after the incident this morning the best thing was to let you rest until the afternoon". The siblings entered the narrow compartment and settled together on one of the benches fixed to the ground.

"Good afternoon, captain," Almices began to speak. “Why did your men act like this?” Zamar expected the question.

"You have to excuse them; they have been on board for a long time and sometimes they are a little overtaken. I have already warned them. Well, tell me, I know you want to go to Kos; I don't know how you got to the point where we picked you up.” Almices quickly told him, without going into many details, the escape from Samos and the odyssey suffered with his boat. Zamar apparently listened attentively as he estimated how much he could get for each of them at Tyre’ slave market.

"So, you’re fugitives?”

"No, not at all," Telma said, somewhat taken aback by the comment. “We are not fugitives. We left Samos because we no longer had family there, our closest family is in Kos.”

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. Whatever it may be, you are now safe on my boat. Come, you must be hungry, eat a little.” He sat next to the table too and served himself a succulent roast chicken thigh. Nerisa and Janira immediately imitated him greedily eating the food. Telma and Almices glanced at each other, hesitating for a moment before joining in.

The dinner was quiet, the children recovered strength and satiated their appetite, two days had passed since their parents murder, two eternal days in the middle of the sea. They were not used to eating meat, their usual diet almost always included fish and vegetables, and the ate meat only on exceptional occasions. They regained the desire to move forward.

"I see that it’s been a while since you've eaten," Zamar scratched his head as he spoke, digging between his battered hair.

"Yes, we brought food, but not a lot; most of it was dried fish, we thought the crossing would be easier. We thought we’d be in Kos by now.”

"The sea is very scary. Fortunately, you are alive, though you have deviated quite far from your route.”

"How far away from Kos are we?” Almices was startled, surprised.

"Not far, a couple of days away; the current dragged you west. In any case, we'll take you there. It doesn't take us far from our route.”

"Don’t worry, captain, we have some money to pay for our passage.” Almices took the coins out of the inside of his clothes and offered them to Zamar. The captain collected them observing them, they were coins minted by the Ptolemy.

"It's little money, but enough," he cheered and changed the subject, keeping the coins in his bag. “Tomorrow will be a long day, better to retreat to rest.”

"Thank you, captain, we will," Telma replied whilst standing.

"One more thing, I prefer you not to walk on deck, I mean the crew, they are good people, but avoiding them is better.” Zamar undressed the young woman with his eyes as he spoke. The girl certainly had much more value than the rest in Tyre’s markets. The pirate smiled to himself as he dismissed them.

The night passed without further incidents. Janira fell asleep fast. Telma and Nerisa were worried because the youngest wasn't speaking, in two days she said practically nothing, neither wept nor played. It was as if she had retracted herself, isolating herself from everything around her. Almices felt responsible for their situation, especially Janira; after all, she was the most defenceless.

In the morning they went on deck for breakfast with the captain, it was a good excuse to get some fresh air. The lustful glances that some men gave Telma made them return quickly below deck. They had plenty of time to think. Almices found that they were going to the east, it was clear that they had deviated; although he had not said that they were so far from Kos, he did not understand how they managed to get so far from their original route. They ate lunch and dinner below deck, they preferred not to leave. The captain went down several times to visit them to make them feel safer, anticipating that they would probably arrive in Kos by the end of the next day.

It must have been after midnight when rough hands grabbed Telma by covering her mouth. She tried to fight, but several men held her and took her out of the dank room without disturbing her siblings. She tried to release herself to ask for help, as she once again, scared, fearing the worst; but her captors' hands were like shackles. They carried her next to the base of the mast, under cover. The men spoke in whispers as Telma's frightened eyes tried to find an escape route. In the midst of her helplessness, her muscles were desperately trying to get away from her kidnappers. A strong blow to the head stopped her from struggling.

One of the sailors tore off the linen that covered her torso. Her breasts were shaking in the light of the lamps, reflecting the sweat caused by the struggle. Another crew member, without making noise, lifted her remaining clothes above her waist and indulged his most basic instincts. Telma came round, screaming in terror. She was fully aware of what was happening, her worst fears were being fulfilled and she had to escape at all costs. The rapists had let their guard down and Telma had her hands free, she tried to get away from the large sailor who was claiming her. At that time, Almices woke up, startled by the noise, he looked around and saw his sister in the middle of the room under the sailor's body. He ran full of rage towards the aggressor, wielding a small knife that he had hidden in his clothes, from which he never parted, while Telma continued to scream and struggle, digging her nails with all her strength into the eyes of the abuser above her. The sailor’s comrades tried to move Telma's hands away from their partner's eyes.

"Get off her, you son of a bitch!” Almices pounced on one of the men who he stabbed in the shoulder with the small blade. He kneed him in the stomach, which left him lying on the ground, winded.

“Let go of me, you bitch!” The sailor who was raping Telma stood up in pain, with one eye torn out of its socket. He grabbed her neck with all his strength and hit her head several times against the base of the mast with unusual violence while she wailed. It was the last thing he did.

"What the fuck are you doing, assholes!” Zamar had just stabbed the sailor from behind with his sword. “I told you to keep you away from them. Stupid!” One of the sailors faced him with a thick wooden plank.

"Who do you think you are to boss us around?” He was an enormous being, who remained bent over to avoid hitting the ceiling with his head; Almices, still on the ground, contemplated the scene but did not dare to stand up; he had never seen a man so big. He lunged at Zamar, who swiftly swung his left hand and plunged a pair of knives into the man's chest, who crashed down next to the stones that acted as the ship's counterweight. The third man, the one who wounded Almices, dropped the plank he was carrying, begging for mercy. Zamar’s sword pierced human flesh a second time that night.

Nerisa and Janira had woken up, startled by the uproar of fighting, and watched the scene horrified without daring to leave their cabin or even move. They remained still like statues. The other crew members of the ship approached lurking. Almices got up and moved slowly to his older sister. Telma was lifeless, her head deformed by the attack, her hair tangled, and blood trickled down her neck. His soulless, tear-filled eyes were focused on the ceiling. He lowered her clothes to cover her genitals and covered her breasts.

"How is your sister?" Zamar asked as he approached.

"You told us we were safe with you!” The boy responded, his voice was an amalgam of anger and contempt. “My sister is dead; your men have killed her. Is this what you call help?” He turned his face toward the captain with a frosty look, which for an instant altered the cold composure of the captain.

"I didn't want this to happen, I’m sorry about your sister. I have lost a lot of money because of these imbeciles, but they will no longer bother me.” He put his sword back in his belt.

"Money? What did you want to do with us, you wretch?” Zamar punched him in the mouth. Almices endured the pain as the blood came out of the inside of his lip filtering through his throat and leaving a bitter taste.

"You fools! I'm going to sell you and your sisters in Tyre, we'll arrive in town in a week.” He laughed. “Did you really think you could pay for your passage with a few coins? It's a shame your sister is dead, they would have given me a lot of money for her. At least I have you and your beloved sister's body will be able to satisfy the rest of the crew while it is still warm, at last she will serve for more than just to complain.” Almices lunged toward him, blinded by anger. A sharp blow to his back knocked him out again.

After a while, Almices woke up locked in the small enclosure next to his little sisters, who were crying. On the other side of the wooden barrier, which was used as a wall, they could hear noises. He tried to push the door open; it was locked from the outside, they were trapped. Almices then looked between the slits in the wood. What he saw left him feeling deflated. Some of Zamar's men were queuing up to abuse his sister's lifeless body. They had no respect for the dead. He began to scream, curse, plead; but his cries were ignored. The gods must have been busy with other more important tasks not to intervene in this sinister event. He could have spent an eternity begging and hurling threats, but he finally succumbed to his emotions and cried with his sisters looking up at the cracks in the ceiling. What had they done to the gods to displease them this much? What hopes did they have for this life now? What did the sinister future have in store for them? There was nothing in the world that mattered. Perhaps not even their gods were the true ones, maybe they did not even exist. Almices wanted to die, and wished they were all reunited with their parents.

"Up, children," the voice of a sailor called them, knocking on the door . Nerisa was the first to open her eyes, it was noon. The small opening in their cell on the ship's bow let a clear light shine through. Her eyes were sore from crying. She stood up to wake up her sister. Janira opened her eyes in terror, envisioning another tragedy. Her sister smiled at her and hugged her tightly. Almices woke up too and put his hand to his lip, he could barely touch it without groaning.

The door opened and the sailor dryly asked them to leave. Almices looked at him carefully, trying to recognize if he was among those queuing up to abuse his sister's body hours earlier, but he did not recognize him. The man urged them to go on deck. Almices grabbed his sisters by the hands and headed toward the steps that went up to the deck. Next to the base of the mast, a small reddish spot indicated where his sister’s life was taken. He looked around, but could not see her body.

Nerisa was right, the sun was high when they stepped foot on the deck. A sunny day greeted them. Fresh tears flooded the young girl’s eyes, unsure whether it was because of the dazzling light or that neither her sister nor her parents would ever enjoy this feeling again. Janira was still silent. She had a permanent look of fear in her eyes. She stared at the ground so as not to deal with her new reality. Almices blamed himself for falling asleep without knowing what happened to his sister's body. He searched for her again on the deck, but only found some bloodstained fabrics by the starboard side. He assumed she had been thrown overboard, along with the bodies of her rapists. The very idea shook him.

"I hope you have rested," Zamar greeted them as if nothing had happened. The young man was surprised by his tremendous cold blood. That man had executed some of his men and then, without hesitation, allowed them to dishonour his sister's lifeless body. “I have called for you to tell you what will happen to you from now on. These things happen, the last night with your sister did not need to happen; however, and to avoid further incidents we are going to put some beautiful shackles on your feet so that you cannot cause more problems. I don't want to lose more money.”

"You can't do this!” Nerisa was worn down.

"Wow, I think genius runs in your family," the captain laughed. “I can do whatever I like with you, even offer you as food to the fish. Your sister has already fed them tonight.”

"You pig!” Almices struggled to free himself from his captor’s grip.

"No, no more than those who killed your parents.” Almices was surprised, they hadn't told them how their parents had died. “Surprised?” Zamar continued as if he had read his mind. “You talk in your sleep, so the whole crew know what’s happened to you. As I said, I don't want you to die, I just want to be paid well for you. Slave life is not so bad, you will always be fed. And if they cannot feed you, they will sell you to another. You will be properties with a value. People in the West do not mistreat their slaves, sometimes even treat them better than their families.”

"What have we done to you? We only asked for help.” Nerisa didn't understand the captain's attitude.

"That's life, little girl, you're very young and you have your whole life ahead of you to try and earn your freedom, but that will depend on you. For now, spending a week in the cellar, the time it takes to get to Tyre, will be the best thing for you, you don’t want what happened to your sister to happen to you, do you?”

"You said we could trust you, that you would take us to Kos.” Almices was becoming angrier. “You knew from the start you’d sell us as slaves!”

"When we saw you drifting, you had already passed the island of Kos. What we have done is given you a chance. You’re no longer scorching in the sun and dying of thirst in the middle of the sea, now you have at least one chance and we will be rewarded for picking you up. It is nothing personal, it is our job. We will see you again in Tyre.” The captain turned around and headed to his quarters, as the sailors placed the shackles on them.

Time passed by slowly below deck. The small opening in the helm and their one meal a day were their only time references. Their meal was a mixture of flour and water which was difficult to swallow. They has plenty of water; but the space was small and trapped as they were, they had to do their business in the corner of the dank room.

Although the first two days were very hard Nerisa and Almices tried to get their little sister to speak. She barely said a word. Almices had found a small piece of coal on the ground, with which to draw scribbles for his sister to entertain herself. When she went quiet, Nerisa made up small stories to try and make her smile.

The weather was good, and the journey was smooth. Zamar honoured his word and the children neither left their cell nor were they again disturbed by the crew. Janira did not regain his speech; as soon as her brothers stopped talking to her, she lowered her head to the ground for hours. She barely touched the food and seemed to lose weight as the days passed.

Nerisa and Almices had plenty of time to talk about everything that had happened to them. They missed their parents and Telma a lot. They took advantage of the time to tell each other all sorts of things about themselves and their experiences. They thoroughly reviewed their short lives. They learned more about themselves in those days than in all previous years. How mature Nerisa was for her age, Almices thought, what fortitude she had. The first few days she had cried a lot, but now her brother believed that she was much stronger than him. She thought the same about her brother, was proud of him and wanted to raise his spirits at all costs. They avoided talking about what would happen once they got to Tyre. When her sister let them share her thoughts, they tried to get Janira out of her inner abyss. It was an exhausting effort with minimal results, the little girl sank into a deep depression and her siblings didn't know how to help her.

The days passed and the crossing came to an end. Mid-morning on the eighth day of confinement, Zamar came to their cell with the impression he was a kind person unable to harm anyone. They had arrived in Tyre.

IV

It was a sunny day in Tyre. The city was on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean, the central sea that linked the whole world, the Mare Nostrum that the Romans tried to monopolize for their emerging empire. The metropolis, raised almost a century ago by Alexandro the Great and his troops, was located at a strategic point that constituted a natural gateway to the Eastern countries. The ancient caravan routes, which for some time changed their course, soon returned to Tyre. The old city, destroyed years ago almost entirely, began to resurface from its ashes with new energies.

The Asian routes, came through the Euphrates and Tigris, nourished the city with exotic goods which were then distributed southwards to Egyptian markets, to the north across the expanse that was the former Macedonian empire and to the Mediterranean Sea reaching the Pillars of Melkart and even beyond the civilized world thanks to the commercial eagerness of its merchants. In return, Tyre had become a source of resources for the Persians and their neighbours, providing them with wines, oils, ceramics and, above all, slaves. The once-ruined city had become the main market on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean for slave trade. Its strategic location allowed it to supply slaves to many traffickers who roamed the main cities of the eastern Mediterranean and the lands of the Middle east.

Anyone could fall into slavery. Tribal wars and quarrels were the main way of supplying slaves who then worked in temples, farm lands and wealthy estates. Another critical way you became a slave was through debt incurred with other citizens or with different social classes. In many regions the punishment for unpaid debt was loss of freedom. Homelessness and deprivation could also lead to slavery. Janira, Nerisa and Almices observed the city from the deck of the ship, worried about their future. In their village they had never seen a slave; although they knew perfectly what they were, people abandoned by the gods who had lost their freedom. And so, the three of them felt abandoned by the gods, subjected to their whims, and abdicated to the abyss of uncertainty. They did not want to be separated. Janira had not understood the situation, the events of the last few days were completely beyond her understanding. Nerisa and Almices tried to explain it the day before, but the little one did not understand why they had to go to the home of a stranger. She insisted that she return home to her parents, they were the only words she spoke captivity.

The port of Tyre was a hub for commercial bustle to the eyes of visitors compared to other big cities. Many ships constantly entered and left the port. They were close to each other for lack of space on the docks. Zamar's ship docked next to another similar sized vessel. The captains greeted each other. The children did not understand the language they spoke. Almices would then find out that they were speaking in Phoenician. To reach the port's dock, the children had to pass chained, among the indifferent looks of the other ship’s crews, from ship to ship until they stepped on land.

Nerisa and Almices tried once again to convince the pirate not to sell them; the answer was a blow to the boy's ribs, dutifully delivered by one of the sailors. Janira gripped her sister's arm.

The small group, led by Zamar and escorted by four sailors, began to move forward through the city’s congested. The port had an intense smell, stalls with roasted sardines spread the characteristic and penetrating aroma of the food they cooked. The street stalls also sold beer, wine and a variety of highly seasoned foods that pervaded the senses of passers-by with strong aromas. The three children were starving, having only been fed water, flour and scraps that had been provided sporadically by some sailors for more than a week.

Zamar’s men led them along narrow, shady streets entering the crowded city. The port smells gave way to other strong aromas. The residents’ faeces ran down the edges of the narrow streets and insects wandered next to it freely. Some rodents also enjoyed the atmosphere and Almices recalled time spent with Telma back home. The journey through the city led them through different neighbourhoods. This was the children’s first experience of city life. With the exception of Almices, his sisters had never left the small village, a population of less than two hundred. Janira, despite being chained up, was wandering away from her constraints. With wide eyes, she watched many of the city’s strange characters. Almices was disappointed with what he saw as they entered the metropolis; it was more like a pigsty than a city, so different from the distant Greek acropolises he had visited with his father. Nerisa did not understand how so many people could live in so little space. As she missed her beach and her house, she instinctively grabbed her little sister's hand more forcefully.

It was a long walk through uneven and disorderly streets. They passed through the tanners district, which treated leather and created a nauseous and foul odour that filled the nostrils of all passers-by. They also passed through the basketeers' district, where they observed magnificent works of art made from palm and cane in doorways for the best bidder to take. In the weavers' district, the streets were covered with hundreds of fabrics and carpets covering the walls of the houses forming a multi-coloured mosaic that seemed to give way to another world. Nerisa admired the vivid colours of the fabrics that brought figures to life in multiple ways. They continued to walk until little by little the houses were more spaced out. They turned a corner and before the group, the hills that flirted with the city opened up over the walls.

The children's ankles were already bleeding when they passed beyond the walls. Zamar and his group took a narrow, poorly travelled path that disappeared climbing up behind a small hill. After reaching the summit, the children looked on the other side at their destination. At the foot of the hill, on its eastern slope, there was a small group of houses that surrounded a small square which occupied an important area of land.

Almices looked at the large wooden cages inside the stockade and realised that Zamar was taking them there. The path descended down a winding road until it reached the enclosure and continued next to the stockade built with irregular wooden planks, dry straw, and mud, forming a barrier slightly taller than an adult. He thought it would not be hard to jump. They continued to skirt the structure until a large door formed by two heavy panels of wood that was closed. Zamar drew his sword and energetically knocked on one of the doors with the its hilt. They waited a while, and the door began to open. A very small man, Nerisa's height, began to open the heavy door to allow the pirate's entourage to pass through. The dwarf recognized the captain and greeted him, they exchanged a few words and the little man gestured for them to follow him. The whole group advanced through the enclosure behind the captain. The children looked around with fear of the unknown reflected in their eyes.

Inside the enclosure was spacious, with a large path dotted on both sides by several adobe buildings. Many people worked on different tasks. It was as if it were a small town, a village growing in the shadow of a big city. In the centre of the square, standing out from rest, were the huge wooden structures that Almices saw from the top of the hill. The group continued to move forward until it passed them. The smell coming out of the cages was strong and sour. The children looked at the people locked in there. Dirty, poorly dressed or even naked. Their dull eyes looked at them as if they were ghosts. Men, women, and children divided into various compartments. Individuals who were afraid and others who inspired pity. All very different from each other. All of them slaves.

The dwarf advanced to a stone construction that stood at the bottom of the stockade. The group stopped next to the building. The little man spoke to Zamar in the strange language that Almices heard before and the two men walked until they vanished inside the house.

It had been a while since the captain entered what seemed to be the main building of the grounds. The sailors relaxed talking about their things and the three children, still in chains, spoke quietly among themselves about their impressions when the door of the house opened again, This time to give way to Zamar and a man in his fifties, with a greying beard, somewhat shorter than the pirate, and fatter. He must eat well. Both of them proceeded in silence to the children. The stranger stopped in front of the three siblings, looking at them with expert eyes, scrutinizing the possible defects of the merchandise, evaluating their commercial possibilities. He made them open their mouth, which Almices resisted until another blow on his ribs made him change his attitude. The examination barely lasted a moment. The man exchanged a few words with Zamar, and they both returned to the house.

The children now became more aware of their situation. Their price was being negotiated. It seemed that his fate was decided and that, despite his insistent pleas, the captain would sell them to that man. The three of them held hands as they exchanged glances.

The door opened again and Zamar came out smiling. He closed the door behind him and approached the group. The children thought for a moment that they had been wrong about him.

"Well, it seems that this is where we part ways.” He walked toward the children raising his arms unable to suppress a smile on his face. “You now have an owner.”

"What have you done to us?” Nerisa spoke bitterly, with an insecure voice. It was the confirmation of their worst fears.

"I've sold you to one of the best-known slave traders in Tyre and the truth is, at a very good price.” He touched his right hand to the bag that was hanging from his clothes. “It won't take long for you to get to know a new home. He has to earn back what he paid for you.”

"You're despicable," Almices spat.

"Don't believe it, like I said, I did a you favour rescuing you and preventing you from dying of thirst, even though I regret what happened to your sister. “I have asked him to try to sell you together," he lied. “Think of it as a transaction, I saved you and you have rewarded me for it; otherwise, it was a pleasure.”

The pirate said goodbye without waiting for an response and turned to his men, signalling for them to accompany him, and they left. The siblings were left behind, waiting for their uncertain future, guarded by two muscular men as towers that were about thirty.

After a while, the door of the building opened again, and the slaver approached the children.

"How old are you?" He addressed Almices in a rare Greek.

"Ten," said the boy sheepishly.

"And what can you do?" the slaver scrutinised the child.

"I am a fisherman, but we have done nothing to be here.” He was ignored.

"Do you just speak Greek?”

"I speak it and write it.”

"You write it? Wow, very interesting. And you?” He now addressed Nerisa and Janira.

“We help our mother at home, we speak Greek and write a little too.” Janira remained quiet.

"Very interesting," he repeated. “You won't spend much time here. Tomorrow is market day, so we will take a quick tour of the city and let the gods be virtuous and blessed.” "He said goodbye to them with an inexpressive gesture.

The two men who remained guarding the children took them to the cages on the square. When they arrived, one of them opened a door by moving a heavy metal bar. They were placed inside, and the door bolted. The cage was empty, as though reserved for them. The only thing inside was a small bowl of water. Janira ran as fast as the shackles would allow to the bowl and began drinking. Her brother and sister joined her. They quenched their thirst and sat in the shade of wooden planks that made up the cage roof. They huddled together, just like when they lost their sister. They looked hopeless and pitiful, like the others in the adjacent cages. There were no words, none of the slaves spoke, only absolute silence. Words were not going to restore their freedom.

The rest of the day was spent in complete silence. Janira looked through the bars at the huge dogs sleeping on the square. They were taking advantage of the shadows of the nearby buildings. Nerisa cried unconsolably thinking what would be of her sister if they were separated. Almices, for his part, did not stop thinking that this could be the last night he spent with her sisters, and regretted having failed them and not being able to help his parents.

It was late in the afternoon when a small group of men approached the cages followed by some of the dogs swatting flies with their tails. They stopped in front of the cage, inspecting its occupants. They spoke that same strange language that the children heard Zamar speak earlier. A strange language, Almices thought. It became more apparent to him that they were previewing the merchandise they would buy the next day. The young man then began to examine those men in turn. There were about eleven or twelve of them, all well-dressed. Their tunics represented their good social and economic standard. Almices imagined their professions: Merchants, princes, powerful people without a doubt. With their diverse expressions, some kind, others treacherous and mean, they studied them with curiosity. What had brought them there to buy slaves? He concluded that both his sisters' fate and his destiny were completely out of their hands.

How strange it was to watch the sunrise from inland. Almices and his sisters had always seen it rise from the sea. The three had an uncomfortable night, closing their eyes for brief periods only to open them again startled by the fear of losing each other. Nerisa had exchanged a few words with a Greek woman who was in the adjoining cage. She explained that they were on the estate of one of the largest slave traders in the region. She had ended up there because her father could not pay off his gambling debts and had given her away for a set time to pay the debt and for her freedom. That was more than a month ago. She also explained to them that once a week they loaded two slave-laden cars and took them to market in Tyre to sell them. Apparently, the supply of slaves at the farm was constant.

The sun was already completely visible when a dozen men approached the cages accompanied by two carts pulled by ox. That morning happened to be the morning market in the city. The children stood up, nervous. Two men approached them. They hugged each other tightly, scared. The men forced them to climb one of the carts. From its wooden sides emerged tall spikes pointing to the sky. Sewn together by other smaller pieces of wood, placed horizontally, they formed a dense net topped by another dense net of smaller pieces of wood, like a roof that made any escape impossible. At the rear, a sturdy door was bolted shut after all the occupants were on board. In a short time both carts were full. Almices counted twelve people in his cart and six in the other. The occupants of the other cart were more or less strong men, all with shackles on hands and feet and all connected by the same chain. They seemed like dangerous men, judging by the measures taken by their custodians, eight heavily armed men escorted that cart. But only two guardians guarded their cart, one sitting in front of the cage and the other on foot behind. Almices then stopped to observe his fellow travellers. His sisters stood beside him, with no space to sit. In front, along with the driver of the cart, five young women who were around twenty years old, with jet black hair, and oily skin, their traits seemed of distant lands. On the other hand, the woman who Nerisa spoke to during the night was pleasing with the custodians that it was a mistake, that she had to wait for her father. Next to her, a couple, and their son, about the age of Almices, were hugging.

They saw the slave master arrive in a lavish cart adorned with brightly coloured fabrics that bore four robust ebony-coloured porters. The trafficker had put on his best attire. He led the entourage. They crossed the square and went south, Almices was surprised to leave behind the path they took with Zamar the day before.

"Where are they taking us, Almices?”

"I suppose to sell us, Janira; but I don't know if in Tyre, we didn’t come this way yesterday.”

"I want to go with you.”

"Now, they will not separate us, we are siblings, you heard what Zamar said.”

"I'm not so sure," Nerisa interrupted.

"Why do you say this, Nerisa? It does not make sense for us to be separated.”

“Sense? Where is the sense in the, Almices? Think about what has happened to us so far, think about what they have done to that woman.” He glanced the woman who was still calling for the man who put her in the cart, insisting that it was a mistake. “I fear the worst, they will sell us separately, I am sure.” Nerisa's eyes reflected a bad omen.

“No, I don't think so.”

"Don't worry now, Janira," Almices stared at Nerisa. “We can do one thing to make sure.” The girls looked at him, waiting. “The truth is, we don't know when or whom they are going to sell us to. It is true that we do not know whether or not they will separate us; whatever happens to us or who buys us, the important thing is that we stay alive and vow not to rest until we meet again.” His sisters’ eyes welled up, about to cry.

"Let's swear it now.” Nerisa grabbed hold of her brother’s and her sister’s hands tightly.

"Yes, that's how we'll find each other.” The little one was now a little livelier.

"Let’s promise each other then.” Almices also took Janira's hand, forming a small circle between the three of them. “Repeat after me: I swear that wherever I am, I will look for my siblings until I find them and regain my freedom. I swear on my parents.” The girls repeated the oath while the other occupants of the cart, except the woman, who had already given up, looked at them not understanding what they were saying. Their language was foreign in these lands. The three children embraced each other affectionately, just as they had done on countless occasions since Almices turned ten. The tears now descended freely down his cheeks.

The entourage continued to move south to border one of the hills and then turned west toward the sea. Soon the city was in sight. Tyre was a city that after its reconstruction had grown along the coast taking advantage of the possibilities of maritime communication provided by its coveted geographical situation. As they approached the southern part of the city, more people were coming and going from their daily chores. They reached the foot of the small wall. Almices was surprised that such a large city had such a low wall. He would later learn that the residents no longer valued the walls. The city, which had long been the safest and most impregnable city in the world, had in fact remained undefeated until one hundred years before when the great Alexander besieged her with his Macedonian hosts and took her, exceeding all expectations. Below the walls, a flurry of people kept coming and going from one side to the other. The convoy arrived there and stopped in front of a very busy wooden raised decking.

The carts stopped next to some shops and the dealer entered one of them. The guards opened the cart gate where the children were and sent them inside one of the shops. It was built with long, dark wooden poles fastened together with strong hemp rope and had thick multi-coloured fabrics as walls. The captives crossed the shop and went out through a rear. There, a series of thick stakes driven into the ground were used for the guards to chain them to. It was a small square hidden from the outside where the carts had been left, away from prying eyes. From there the children could see the deck from behind. A simple staircase connected the ground to the decking. The guards brought the salves from the other cart next to the stakes. As always, they remained heavily guarded.

After a while, the slave master appeared. He was chatting with another elegantly dressed man in a rich, colourful tunic and braided sandals on his feet. They looked closely at the enslaved and continued their conversation. The murmur of people outside was increasing as the sun was climbing in the sky. At mid-morning, the slave owner's companion climbed the stairs to the platform and began to initiate appeals to the people accumulating outside. The guards roughly took the men from the other cart up to the platform. The man in the multi-coloured tunic was offering these men, who remained heavily guarded, flaunting the powerful musculature of one of them or the stature of another.

"They're selling them. They are selling them together.” Nerisa seemed hopeful.

"It's true," Janira said. “They will sell us together.”

The barter continued between the man on the stage and the roaring audience. The children did not understand what they said, but it seemed clear they were haggling. It carried on for quite some time, until at last three of them were brought down by some of the guards, walked past them prodded by the spears of their custodians, and were brought back into the shop.

"They have sold them separately," the boy's words reflected overwhelming gravity and pessimism. His sisters were silent. They hugged again, as if that were the last time.

The sale continued for much of the morning, until it was the children’s turn. The guards brought them up along with the Greek woman and the couple with the child. Everyone remained quiet, fearful of what might happen, with shackles on their feet. Their guards did not seem concerned that they might escape.

From the platform you could see the whole atmosphere of the square. There were many platforms, placed in a semicircle occupying a large space, numerous people wandering among them listening to the traders and looking at the human merchandise on sale. The man in the polychrome tunic began promoting his products to try and get the best sale. The public crowded round, to enjoy the show. Soon the bids began. When the sale was closed, a woman wearing beads released a victory cry, the guards grabbed Janira and took her down. Almices and Nerisa tried to keep her screaming and fighting, several blows to their backs deterred them.

The bidding resumed while the siblings watched helplessly with tears in their eyes as Janira disappeared in the crowd, not even giving them time to say goodbye to their little sister. The trader was increasingly raising his voice to attract the attention of potential buyers, pointing now to one, then to another. Another deal was closed, and the guards took the man while his wife and son cried. There was an uproar among the people. It was as if the public enjoyed watching the slaves suffer.

The seller continued to offer them to passers-by. The auction began again, without the children understanding what was said. This time it was tougher, however the guards finally took Nerisa and the woman she had talked to during the night. Nerisa, unable to articulate words, threw a deep and sad look at her brother, thinking that would be the last time she saw him. She walked down the steps as best she could, her legs barely holding her up, her eyes again filled with tears. Her heart was broken.

Almices felt sunken, he had just lost all his family. He lost all sense of time and before he knew it one of the guards pushed him down the stairs. The young man snapped back to reality and realized that he already had an owner. The guard took both he and the other boy back inside the shop. They both looked frightened, their fate unknown. Apparently, they had been sold to the same owner. A man, whom Almices had not noticed before, stood up to greet four others who entered the shop. He spoke for a moment and one of them approached the boys examining them carefully. Almices recognized him from the previous day, he had a dark complexion, a hooked nose and black hair, about twenty-five years old and a friendly looking. They spoke again and the man took a leather bag out of his robe and paid the other a handful of coins.

With a reassuring smile he turned to the boys, speaking to them in that unknown language. Then, a few lashes on the boy’s backs indicated that the hour of the pleasantries had passed and that it was time to get started. Almices was getting tired of friendly smiles and being hit.

The man marched into the centre of the city, entering through the south gate of the small wall. The other three followed him, pushing, and mocking Almices and the other boy. The city constituted a complicated and chaotic network of streets that twisted and turned without any order. They passed through densely populated neighbourhoods, their inhabitants barely paid attention to the small group. The boys were still walking with shackles on their ankles, which made the march slow. The wounds on Almices' ankles started to bleed again. They passed through stinking streets, some sections flooded with faeces and urine, giving off a strong smell that the boy already considered normal for a big city. Both boys were disoriented, the zigzagging streets had made them lose their sense of direction. They turned one corner and were surprised to see the sea. The alley ended by a narrow opening of the wall, which led to a long avenue bordering the coast. From there they continued northward. In the distance that what was once the original city of Tyre was perfectly visible. Thanks to Alexander the great, it was forever connected to the continent.

The long street, actually a narrow strip of land between the ocean and the wall, was full of people fishing. Almices recognized the tackle that his father and the other men in the village used. The tanned fishermen repaired the nets or prepared the fish in salt to take inland. Some women and children helped with the work. The fishing boats were somewhat different, they had more elongated shapes and most did not have portholes nor were the bows extravagantly decorated, although some of the sterns featured a carved equine figure. The small constructions built between the street and the wall were very fragile and small in sight. Almices thought many of them would house whole families like his. He remembered his mother preparing food next to the window of his house.

The road continued north. As they approached the peninsula that was once the great and impregnable Tyre, small houses gave way to increasingly large warehouses. The fleet of ships docked at the bottom was no longer formed by fishing boats; most of them were cargo vessels, or warships, probably from the same city.

The man turned again toward the wall, in that place slightly further from the coast, and entered through another small door, zigzagging through a few streets to end up in a square full of merchants who exhibited their items on the ground in view of potential buyers. Weavers, cattle ranchers, horticulturists, scribes, fortune tellers, healers, charm sellers; everything one might need could be found in that square. They crossed it through the centre and entered cul-de-sac, which ended up in a small courtyard preceded by a large arch. They headed to a door on the right. A servant greeted the man and opened the door. They entered another inner courtyard, which looked more like an orchard than the inside of a house. Tall palm trees stretched up to the sky and rounded orange trees scattered the courtyard, surrounded by thick, low hedges forming a geometric structure around the trees. The small group stopped under the shade of the palm trees.

In the middle of the courtyard, an old man, now in his forties, gave instructions to a gardener while he looked closely at the leaves of an orange tree. The group waited in the shade, apparently waiting for that man. Time passed slowly while the old man inspected the leaves of the orange trees. The two young men, standing, guarded by their companions, occasionally looked in anger. Almices saw how the other boy had cried when he was taken away from his mother which continued throughout their journey. Now they both looked nervously at the enclosure. The old man approached the small group and looked at them as he headed to the man who had bought them. They began to speak in that language, they glanced from one boy to the other. The old man then addressed them in Greek.

"Good morning, I am Abta, a Tyrian merchant and from today your new owner.” Almices was surprised that the man addressed them in Greek. “I have acquired you because I need strong, young hands for my harbour business and I also need the port people to speak Greek. You are Greeks, are you not?”

"Yes," Almices confirmed, while his partner looked down.

"You must know that I like to call my slaves by the place from which they came. I understand that one of you is from Naxos and the other from Samos. Which of you is Naxos?”

"Me," the other boy muttered glumly.

"Well, then from now on we'll call you Naxos and you, Samos," he concluded looking at Almices. “Now Aylos,” – referring to the man who had bought them, “will explain to you how the order works in my house. You must bear in mind that I am very strict with slaves. At the least trouble, I will sell you or have you executed; yet if you serve me as you should, I may at the end of your days grant you freedom to die as free men. But that depends on you. If you have any skills or if you possess any special virtues, I want to know, anything you think is important can be passed on to Aylos and he will bring it to me. If you do not behave as we hope, you will be punished. If, on the contrary, you exceed my expectations, you will live much better than you could have lived in your places of origin, you will not be short of women and if you want over the years to have a family you will also be allowed, as long as it is with the members of my property.”

The boys did not know how to answer, although their addresser did not expect a response from them either. Abta once again addressed Aylos in the foreign language and then returned to the garden contemplating again the green and lanceolate leaves of his precious orange trees.

* * *

When she was brought down from the platform, Janira did not understand what was going on. She tried to resist, grabbing at the handrails. Once inside the shop, an older woman, over thirty, had her feet shackled and placed a smaller, lighter chain around her neck. She tried to explain to the woman that they were mistaken, that her siblings were still on the platform, but they all spoke that strange language that she did not understand.

The woman nervously left the shop, dragging Janira with her. She was pleased with her new purchase. It had taken her a lot of time and cajoling to convince her husband to buy a slave to take over her chores in the business. Her friends told her that she would never have the chance to acquire a slave to help her and her two daughters in the tavern. They needed more hands without having to pay any wages for this, the most practical solution was to buy a cheap slave. She would have liked to have paid the same for some of the older ones, but her budget was small and had to settle for the little one. The girl would eventually become helpful and she could shape her to her liking. On the other hand, it would not be a problem with her husband, her biggest fear was that he could be unfaithful with anyone, including a slave.

Janira grabbed the chain with her hands to avoid jerking her neck, she knew what shackles on her ankles were capable of, and did not want to imagine what could happen to her neck. They entered the city centre and wandered through the intricate alleys. The journey was not long. Soon they arrived at a two-story building. The woman opened the door and entered the tavern. The little one had never been in one before, but she knew by Telma’s description what the tavern of the village was like, even though she had never stepped foot in it. Her sister had told her that men gathered there to drink and eat and that some even had room to spend the night. It was a large room, with half a dozen extended tables where several guests drank and ate in the midst of the yelling. The girl lowered her head, feeling embarrassed. Her mother always told her to avoid these places, because self-respecting girls should never step foot in one. The ground was full of food scraps and insects scurried in search of it. Janira felt disgusted. She turned her eyes away. On the left, a bar separated the space with the tables and the kitchen area. A large man grabbed some plates of food by dipping his fingers in to hold them better and carry them to one of the tables. Next to him, a girl about twenty years old carried some jugs in one hand to the same table, and swatted flies away with the other hand. The smell of stale food flooded the room. In the background there was a staircase that accessed the upper floor, the woman tightened the chain and led her to the bottom of it; there they went through a door next to the staircase and entered a small backyard, surrounded by high walls belonging to the adjacent houses. A small wooden shed filled with holes between the planks remained with the door open. The woman stopped and spoke in that foreign tongue while pointing to the shed.

Janira deduced that she should be there, in the shed, she did not know what to do or how to please that lady. The woman approached the young girl’s neck and released her from the chain, then left the yard leaving her alone. Janira heard a bolt latch on the other side of the door. She felt his neck and looked around. The courtyard comprised of a small enclosure about ten or fifteen steps wide, its high walls made it impassable. The shed was the only construction; next to it, a small shrub, slightly taller than her, gave the enclosure a little colour. She headed toward the shed. She stopped to see that it was already occupied by a couple of goats. She never liked goats; they had such strange eyes. Almices once told her they were evil beings, but necessary for their milk and cheese. She curled up at the door of the shed, scared of disturbing the animals. If only her mother was here, she would hug her with warm arms. What happened to her siblings? Had they been sold together? She remembered the oath made hours before in the cart, and prayed to the gods, just like her mother had taught her, asking them to be reunited, so they could find each other.

* * *

Nerisa felt her heart shatter as she climbed down the steps on the platform. When they entered the shop, she grabbed her companion in misery. They both looked at the two men who had bid for them. They left the store, removed the shackles, and tied them to the back of a cart loaded with jars and containers. The men climbed into the ox drawn cart and they set off. The girls would have to make the way on foot.

They walked for three long days to the southeast, always on foot, stopping several times a day to rest, taking advantage of the watering holes for the animals that were on the way. They passed several villages and the people they saw were usually indifferent to the girls. In the evening of the third day, the small group faced a small hill and the men smiled looking down the hillside; in front of the group, the western sun lit the sky with its orange glow and flooded a huge field of vines that almost completely surrounded a small group of houses protected by a stone wall. From their location they could see the people inside the enclosure. Animals and people went about their chores waiting for the end of the day. The group took the gentle path down to the enclosure. The two men spoke animatedly, pointing to the vines. Cleanta, as the Greek woman was called, whispered quietly to Nerisa.

“They are talking about the state of their vines, apparently our destiny are those houses there. I suppose we will soon know what the moiras have in store for us.”

“They don't look like bad people," Nerisa replied, surprised by the first words her companion had spoken since they began their journey. I think they need people to work on their land, so much vine must need a lot of attention.”

“You're amazing, Nerisa, you've lost your parents and separated you from your siblings, you've become a slave and your voice is firm and sure.” Cleanta looked at her with admiration.

“Don't think I'm so strong. My father taught us that we always had to behave according to the moment. I do not want to be a slave. I will do everything I can to get out of this situation and return to my siblings. Therefore, there is no point in fighting, I have to wait for the perfect opportunity, and you should do the same.”

"Go back, me? Where to? I am sure my father has sold me to pay off his debts and continue playing, and my mother has done nothing to prevent it. No, Nerisa, I do not have anywhere to go back to. It is all the same to me. When they took us to the cart to sell us, I realized how stupid it had been to think my father would free me. I have no family, just some distant relatives on my mother’s side who live in Rhodes, so I am alone.”

"You're with me," Nerisa said, without any doubt. “My older sister was raped and killed a couple of weeks ago. You are the same age. I want to be your little sister.” Cleanta was in awe of her companion’s determination.

"You're nine years old, but when you speak, you sound older than me. I am surprised by your fortitude.” She seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Okay, I'll be your older sister.” They held hands as the men continued to guide the cart and talk about their subjects, oblivious to the girls’.

They were already a short distance from the grounds when a couple of black dogs crossed the door toward them barking and wagging their tails from side to side. Behind them two boys ran up to the cart.

"Hi, Dad," the children exclaimed in unison, addressing the older one of the two men. Tanned and lively, Nerisa guessed that the little one would be about ten years old and the other about fifteen. Cleanta was translating the conversation in a low voice.

"Hello, children. How has everything been here?” The man smiled as he guided the cart toward the entrance.

"Very well," the older boy answered this time. “The work you ordered is finished and the preparations for the celebration are almost ready.”

"Well, run to your mother and sister while we unhook the ox.” The boys ran toward the big house; the cart was heading to a stable on the left, inside the perimeter of the farm. The grounds were spacious, almost as large as Narisa’s village. There were a dozen buildings inside. The stables must have taken up a third of the space. Two buildings of different heights towered over the complex, located in the centre of the enclosure. They certainly had to be the master’s quarters on the farm. On the right, a group of single-storey houses, more fragile in appearance, appeared to Nerisa as dwellings for the local peasants and slaves.

A peasant opened the stable doors and went inside. The men jumped down and left the ox there. They then left the stable, leaving Nerisa and Cleanta tied to the back of the cart, as if they were part of the vehicle.

“Hi, honey! I’ve missed you.” The older man embraced the woman who had just arrived. A younger woman stood next to them; the other man blushed when she saw her.

“Say hello to your future wife, don't be shy.” The older man addressed his traveling companion, ushering him to approach the young woman.

“Hi Thera, the journey has seemed forever away from here.” The young couple were blushing as they looked into each other's eyes, keeping a safe distance between themselves. A laugh distracted them from their thoughts.

“My daughter, future son-in-law, I have allowed you to bring a gift to celebrate your imminent wedding.” He winked at the other man and turned toward the cart approaching the girls.

“This is one of the perks. Two slaves so that you, my daughter, can devote all your time to your husband and my future grandchildren, and to make you all the things in the house.” Cleanta and Nerisa looked at each other, no translation was necessary. They belonged to the new couple.

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