we’d have to go out through the strait, out of this Middle Sea, and brave the Western Ocean – a much tougher journey, and a longer one. We’ll go north-west, that way, following the valley of this river as far as we can. We’ll have to walk as far as the watershed, I’m afraid.’
‘I did plenty of walking in the company of those Hatti soldiers, as you will recall. My soles are like leather.’
‘After the watershed we’ll follow another river further to the north and west, until we come to the land of the Burdi, as the people there call themselves – different from this lot by the way, and speaking a different tongue altogether, I’m told. We should be able to barter for a boat to take us down the lower reaches, and into a great estuary called the Cut. From there we’ll reach the southern coast of Northland. And there, I hope, we’ll meet the Hatti trading party you wrote to.’
‘Who will escort us the rest of the way to the midsummer Giving at Etxelur.’
‘We’ll be there in time, with a fair wind and a little help from this local fellow Vertix, who seems to know his business.’
‘And he knows his value,’ Kilushepa said drily, as they watched the man pick over the goods Praxo had to offer as payment, bits of silver and bronze, carved bone and wood, shaped stone.
Soon a deal was done. Praxo returned to Qirum. ‘We start at first light tomorrow. Come on, you men, you’ll be sleeping on dry land tonight, let’s get set up.’
The men hauled the ship’s sails out on the beach to dry, and spread blankets and sacks on the ground. Two of them set off up the valley in search of firewood, and straw or grass to stuff sleeping pallets. Praxo went up the beach with Vertix to negotiate for some fish and meat and water.
Kilushepa said, ‘Would you walk with me into the forest, Qirum? I’d be interested to see what herbs grow here. Perhaps we can flavour the fish supper we will soon be sharing.’
The idea of exploring a forest glade with a queen appealed to Qirum greatly. They walked together up the beach to the edge of the forest, followed by Praxo’s baffled, irritated gaze.
In the morning, at first light, Vertix came down the beach to meet them, laden with a heavy pack of his own.
Praxo had picked two men to stay behind here and watch the boat. These two were going about their morning chores sleepily, banking down the big fire they’d built, kicking sand into the holes they’d dug as latrines. Nobody bothered saying goodbye. The rest of the crew were gathered beside the boat, all of them, save only for Kilushepa, wrapped in their cloaks with packs on their backs or heads.
Vertix grinned at them all. ‘Nice day, nice forest, nice walk,’ he said in broken Greek. ‘And then land of Burdi, and then – Northland! Now walk.’ He turned and led the way up a narrow track that led along the eastern side of the river valley.
Praxo, laden by his own immense pack, marched ahead with him. The men shuffled after them. Kilushepa and Qirum brought up the rear, treading side by side along a path not much more than an animal track. Qirum listened to the men’s grumbles, amused. For days they had been complaining about their sore backsides on the ship’s rough benches, and their blistered hands; now, right from the start of the trek, they complained about their feet.
Kilushepa murmured, ‘That man is my implacable opponent.’
‘Praxo? He’s a good man. He does his job—’
‘What hold does he have over you?’
He turned his head in surprise. ‘He has no hold. I lead.’
‘Yet you defer to him.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘I say it is. Tell me about him – how you know him.’
He hoisted his pack more comfortably on his shoulders. ‘He’s a Trojan, as I am.’
She said softly, ‘Though I suppose he would say you are merely half-Trojan.’
‘He was a child at the time of the Greek siege – only two years old, less perhaps. But his family had money. They bribed a Greek officer to
‘I did plenty of walking in the company of those Hatti soldiers, as you will recall. My soles are like leather.’
‘After the watershed we’ll follow another river further to the north and west, until we come to the land of the Burdi, as the people there call themselves – different from this lot by the way, and speaking a different tongue altogether, I’m told. We should be able to barter for a boat to take us down the lower reaches, and into a great estuary called the Cut. From there we’ll reach the southern coast of Northland. And there, I hope, we’ll meet the Hatti trading party you wrote to.’
‘Who will escort us the rest of the way to the midsummer Giving at Etxelur.’
‘We’ll be there in time, with a fair wind and a little help from this local fellow Vertix, who seems to know his business.’
‘And he knows his value,’ Kilushepa said drily, as they watched the man pick over the goods Praxo had to offer as payment, bits of silver and bronze, carved bone and wood, shaped stone.
Soon a deal was done. Praxo returned to Qirum. ‘We start at first light tomorrow. Come on, you men, you’ll be sleeping on dry land tonight, let’s get set up.’
The men hauled the ship’s sails out on the beach to dry, and spread blankets and sacks on the ground. Two of them set off up the valley in search of firewood, and straw or grass to stuff sleeping pallets. Praxo went up the beach with Vertix to negotiate for some fish and meat and water.
Kilushepa said, ‘Would you walk with me into the forest, Qirum? I’d be interested to see what herbs grow here. Perhaps we can flavour the fish supper we will soon be sharing.’
The idea of exploring a forest glade with a queen appealed to Qirum greatly. They walked together up the beach to the edge of the forest, followed by Praxo’s baffled, irritated gaze.
In the morning, at first light, Vertix came down the beach to meet them, laden with a heavy pack of his own.
Praxo had picked two men to stay behind here and watch the boat. These two were going about their morning chores sleepily, banking down the big fire they’d built, kicking sand into the holes they’d dug as latrines. Nobody bothered saying goodbye. The rest of the crew were gathered beside the boat, all of them, save only for Kilushepa, wrapped in their cloaks with packs on their backs or heads.
Vertix grinned at them all. ‘Nice day, nice forest, nice walk,’ he said in broken Greek. ‘And then land of Burdi, and then – Northland! Now walk.’ He turned and led the way up a narrow track that led along the eastern side of the river valley.
Praxo, laden by his own immense pack, marched ahead with him. The men shuffled after them. Kilushepa and Qirum brought up the rear, treading side by side along a path not much more than an animal track. Qirum listened to the men’s grumbles, amused. For days they had been complaining about their sore backsides on the ship’s rough benches, and their blistered hands; now, right from the start of the trek, they complained about their feet.
Kilushepa murmured, ‘That man is my implacable opponent.’
‘Praxo? He’s a good man. He does his job—’
‘What hold does he have over you?’
He turned his head in surprise. ‘He has no hold. I lead.’
‘Yet you defer to him.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘I say it is. Tell me about him – how you know him.’
He hoisted his pack more comfortably on his shoulders. ‘He’s a Trojan, as I am.’
She said softly, ‘Though I suppose he would say you are merely half-Trojan.’
‘He was a child at the time of the Greek siege – only two years old, less perhaps. But his family had money. They bribed a Greek officer to
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