Cursed by the Sea God (6 page)

She was carrying a delicate brush in one hand and a tiny glass amphora in the
other. I watched, unblinking, as she dipped the brush by its golden handle into
the amphora. The bristles glistened as though coated in oil. She turned to
Polites and brushed his ears and nose with it, then put the amphora and brush
down to watch.

Even in my stupor I was alarmed. His ears were growing! As I watched, they grew
hairier, thinner, and developed points on the ends. His nose stretched up and
back so I could see his nostrils, then flattened itself on the end. Like
a—

Circe clapped her hands and squealed. “Oh, I do so love pigs!” She spun around,
her long skirt flying out around her. Behind her, the transformation was
quickening. Polites’ head had become a pig’s, his body was shrinking and
becoming rounder, his legs and arms shrivelling, his feet and hands
twisting and hardening into trotters. With a frightened squeal,
he slipped off the bench and began to run around, snuffling at the floor and
grunting wildly.

She turned to Pharos, seated motionless on the next stool, and stepped over his
long legs stretched out before him. “Your turn, my pet. Aren’t you a big one!
But don’t be scared. It’s all for the best. You must trust me, you know.” She
leaned closer and pouted. “No? Well, you’ll understand very soon.” She brushed
his nose and ears with oil as she had before. In a few moments, there was a
second pig, much larger than the first, grunting on the floor by her feet.

Despite the fog over my thoughts, I felt a growing horror as she worked her way
across the room, struggling to shake off my paralysis as she stopped before me.
She made a pretty frown for a moment, one slender fist pressed to her lips.
“You’re a tiny one, aren’t you?” she chirped. “You’re going to make such a cute
pig, I just know you are. I think I’ll have to keep you for a house pet!” I saw
the brush coming toward my face and made a last herculean effort to stop her but
my arms wouldn’t even twitch.

For an instant I thought it hadn’t worked, but all of a sudden my balance was .
. . wrong. I toppled from the stool and landed sprawling on my stomach. I tried
to scramble up but somehow my arms weren’t long enough anymore. Something large
and pink was blocking most of my vision, and for some reason I could suddenly
see nearly all around me. I opened my mouth to shout but all that came out were
grunts and
squeals. The fog lifted from my mind and I understood:
I was a farmyard pig! Farmyard? The word stopped me in my tracks. Gods. Was she
raising us for food?

There was a sudden smack on my backside as Circe swept us out the back door
with a broom. “Out, out, no pigs in the house, you know!” She paused and looked
at me. “Well, maybe just one, you cute little thing. But not until you’re
housebroken, of course,” she added hastily.

She bent down to pick me up and I squealed angrily as she rubbed my neck. “Oh,
just look at that curly little tail!” she exclaimed, tugging on something behind
me. “You just don’t know how cute you are. No you don’t!” She lifted me to rub
her nose in my face before putting me down again.

“There now, my pigglies. Don’t you all feel better? I just want to help you,
really I do. And don’t worry that you can still think like men. In a few days,
that will wear off, and you can get on with being real pigs.” She leaned on her
broom, her eyes shining. “Just think of it—rooting for beech nuts, climbing
trees . . .” She paused, floundering. “Or, um, whatever little pigglies like to
do in the forest. But you’ll be happy, you’ll see. I promise!”

Her words set off a frantic squealing and grunting from us all. Surely there
had to be some way to make her turn us back. But she just smiled and waved a
hand at us. “Oh, please, don’t. There’s no need to thank me. I did it because I
wanted to!”

She turned to collect some handfuls of acorns and beech nuts from a large
amphora by the back door. Throwing them
down to us, she added,
“Oh, such an important thing, and I nearly forgot. You really must watch out for
the other animals. Pigs are awfully tasty, and I’m afraid that some of the other
men I’ve set free have very, very sharp teeth and big claws now. But don’t
worry, you’ll know them when you see them.”

She glanced up at the sun. “My goodness, look at how late it is, and I haven’t
even started my housecleaning yet. What must you think of me? Well, enjoy
yourselves, and stay well, little pigglies. I’ll be back out to feed you
tomorrow!”

THAT NIGHT BEHIND the sorceress’s cottage was the longest in my
life, worse even than the night in the Cyclops’ cave. We huddled in a corner of
the narrow yard, terrified that one of those huge lions would sniff us out. A
stone wall wouldn’t even slow down creatures like that, I was sure. And if the
lions didn’t get us, we would lose our minds and become thoughtless pigs in a
few days, most likely to be slaughtered and eaten.

At least I wouldn’t go alone. Speaking of that, what had happened to Ury? I
couldn’t remember seeing him since we’d come through the gate.

The sky gradually brightened as dawn approached. Morn
ing came,
and Circe appeared at the door to toss some more nuts to us. I’d never eaten
acorns as a human, but they were strangely tasty now. “Feeling better yet?”
Circe trilled. “Don’t worry, you will soon, I know!” The door banged shut.

Some of the Greeks, especially those such as Pharos who had become larger pigs,
were spending their time trotting up and down the walls of the enclosure,
looking for a way out. I couldn’t imagine why; that’s where the lions were.
Smaller than the others, I huddled alone by the back door, hoping they wouldn’t
trample me with their sharp trotters. As a result, I was the only one who heard
what happened next.

For a while, all I could hear was Circe singing something tuneless as she went
about her chores. The spinning wheel clicked from the garden out front, then
stopped. I could hear voices but couldn’t quite make them out. Eventually, they
came inside the cottage and I could hear them more clearly.

“Would you—would you care for some wine, my lord?” Circe sounded
breathless.

“No,” came the flat reply. “I’m looking for my men. They came this way
yesterday.”

Lopex! He could free us! But his next words chilled me. “Just a little, then,
while we talk.”

I could hear her drawing a dipper from the amphora and pouring it into a
goblet. A stool scraped as though it was being pulled up. “Now, tell me about
yourself,” I heard her say. “What brings a handsome man like you to my little
cottage?”

Another stool scraped, and I heard Lopex approaching.
His face
appeared at the open window. I could hardly look high enough to see him. The
gods had clearly designed pigs to watch the ground, not the skies. Holding the
goblet before his lips, he tipped it carefully the other way, pouring its
contents out the window. “A fine yard of pigs you have here, Circe,” he
remarked loudly as the red wine spattered in the garden beside me.

Tilting the empty goblet against his lips as if draining it, he turned back to
face into the room. “As fine as this wine you’ve served me.” He wiped an arm
across dry lips. “But I must ask you again whether you have seen my men.” It was
strange, as a pig I could hear every word as clearly as if I was standing
between them.

Circe’s voice sounded uncertain. “Your men? What, um, men were those? Oh! Of
course.
Those
men!” She laughed, a nervous, high-pitched twitter. “Oh,
yes, they came. I served them some wine, and then they left. They said they were
going hunting. That was it, going hunting.”

Lopex’s reply was low and mumbled. For a little while the only sound was his
breathing. Then there came the sound of a goblet crashing to the floor and I
heard Circe push back her stool.

“Hmm.” I heard her murmur as she got to her feet. “What sort of creature are
you? Never a pig, not you, my sweet, no. A noble, forceful man like you?” She
clapped her hands. “Of course! A man like you must be a wolf!”

I heard her footsteps disappear into her bed chamber and
return
a moment later. “You’re going to like being a wolf, my sweet. A lone, lean,
cunning wolf. Now . . . just hold steady, that’s right.”

Suddenly there was a frightened squeal, and Lopex’s flat voice. “Put it down.
Now.” Then the sound of a tiny jar being set hastily on a table. “Now tell me
what really happened to my men.”

Circe sounded as if she was having trouble speaking, most likely because of a
knife at her throat. “Who . . . who are you? How did you resist my potion?
Please let me go. I won’t hurt you!”

“Swear it, witch!”

I heard her squeak in pain. “Please, I—” There were sounds of someone
struggling to get free. “All right. I swear!”

“The strongest oath you know, witch!”

“Please, stop! You’re hurting me!” Her voice was still strangled. “I swear . .
. I swear on the mighty river Styx itself that neither I nor my creatures will
harm you or your men from this point on.”

There was the sound of a knife being re-sheathed. A moment later her voice came
again, no longer choked. “But how did you resist my charm?” Her voice went soft
and sultry. “Such a muscular man, too.”

His voice grew deeper. “Resist your charm? Perhaps . . . not entirely.” Then
their voices went off into another room and I couldn’t hear them any
longer.

It seemed a long time before I heard anything further from
the
cottage. At last there were footsteps approaching the back door. I trotted out
of the way as it opened and Lopex stepped out, Circe hanging on his arm. Her
feet were bare, her toenails painted an eggshell blue. His sandals had been
mis-laced.

“So, Circe. Where are my men?”

She turned her gaze up at him. “Are you sure we have to do this right now?
Perhaps later, after we’ve had dinner, or . . .”

He frowned impatiently. “Now.”

She pouted. “Oh, very well. But you have to understand that it was for their
own good. Most men are nearly pigs already, you know. Not you, of course, my
lone wolf.” She reached up to stroke his ear but he shook her off.

“For the last time:
Where are they
?” His expression changed slowly as he
looked down at us milling anxiously at his feet. He turned to her, his
expression shocked. “Pigs? Are
these
my men?”

Startled by his sudden anger, she said nothing. He grabbed her forearms and
shook her savagely. “Speak, witch! Did you turn my men into
pigs
?”

She cringed. “Oh please, stop! It really was for their own good, don’t you see?
I just
know
they’ll be happier, once they get used to it . . .”

“Their own good?
Pigs
?” he roared. “Turn them back at once!”

Her hands fluttered nervously. “Yes, yes, certainly. Anything for you, of
course. But please don’t shout, my sweet—it scares me.”

He lowered his voice. “Turn them back now.” He stooped to snatch up one of the
nearest, gripping it in both arms as it struggled. “This one first.”

“Yes, my dear,” she said meekly. “Now, let me see.” She
frowned, concentrating, then brushed its nose and ears with her hand and
murmured something. The pig immediately began to grow and change shape, and
Lopex put it down hastily. In a moment the pig was gone and a white-haired
soldier called Adelphos was crouching on all fours in the dirt before them,
naked buttocks high in the air.

Circe took an involuntary step back. “Oh. Why . . . yes,” she said faintly, a
blush creeping up her neck. “Yes. Of course. Do you know, I’ve never actually
changed one back before? Let me see about some clothes.”

Adelphos stood up easily before her and she reached out to brush both his
shoulders with her fingertips, her mouth pursed. “There.” Now he stood before
them in a simple
chiton
and leather sandals. “Your, um, armour is in the
back storeroom. Through there, yes, that way.” She flapped her hand toward a
door.

Lopex led her around the yard, transforming us one by one. Once again, I didn’t
feel the transition, but suddenly I was standing naked, my bare feet and hands
in the muck of the yard, while she furnished me with clothes, including a pair
of sandals like those she gave Adelphos. As a slave I wasn’t supposed to have
them, but Lopex had given me some when he had made me healer, and Ury hadn’t
thought to revoke them.

“That’s it, men. Let’s go,” Lopex barked in his usual fashion, waving us
toward the door.

“Go?” she repeated, trailing behind him into the cottage. “Already? But . . . I
thought perhaps . . .”

“Not possible.” He shook his head, sounding gruff. “I’m
responsible for these men. I must chart our route home, find provisions for
them, ensure the wounded—”

“Provisions?” she broke in eagerly. “Oh, but I can help you with all that! I do
have powers, you know. And your course, I can help you chart a course home. I
can even tell you of dangers, the dangers you will meet on the way.”

Lopex paused. “I can feed all your men, too,” she added. “Do stay, my sweet.
At least for a little while. Tonight I’ll prepare a special banquet for you. And
your men, of course.” Clasping his arm, she leaned in toward his ear and
whispered something.

Lopex shrugged. “Very well. We will stay. Now I must return to my ship to fetch
the rest of my men.” He pointed to me. “You, boy. Come.”

He said nothing as we walked back through the forest, but as we approached the
beach where the ship lay, he spoke.

“Boy.”

“Yes, sir?” It took all of my effort to keep the anger from my voice.

“What happened to Ury at the cottage of the witch?”

Surprised, I fumbled with the question for a moment. “The cottage?”

“Yes, boy, the cottage! What did he do when you arrived?”

Oh. “Uh, I don’t know. I never saw him after we went in.”

Lopex didn’t answer. As we emerged onto the beach, he gestured at me to stay
out of sight while he went on. When
we had arrived, the men had
been too despondent to draw the ship out of the water, and it was still resting
half in the shallows. I hid behind the hull, watching the armourer hammer a hot
bronze patch onto a badly dented breastplate nearby.

“I told you there was nothing you could do.” Ury’s sulky voice came from
somewhere close. “Now let’s get going, before those animals of hers sniff us
out.”

“Are you so sure, Ury? Perhaps some of your men escaped. We owe it to them to
wait.” Lopex’s voice had a dangerous rumble.

“Wait?” Ury burst out angrily. “Did you see those lions? And those aren’t the
only ones, I’m sure of it.” I heard him take a deep breath. “Lopex, I know
you’re concerned. Sending us up there was a mistake. But those men are gone. We
have to cut our losses and sail now, before those lions of hers get hungry. Or
she finds us herself.” His words seemed calm, at least for Ury, but his voice
held a strange undertone. I risked a peek from behind the head of the
ship.

Ury was leaning on his crutch just down the beach from the ship. Lopex was
facing him, arms crossed. “You’re very quick to abandon the men I entrusted to
you, Ury,” he was saying softly. “Surely they deserve an attempt to save them.
Let’s wait and see if any come back.” He cocked his head. “Do you hear
something?”

Ury glanced around quickly as Lopex continued. “Someone’s coming.” He turned
back toward where I was hiding. “Whoever you are, come out!”

I stepped out from behind the ship as if I had just arrived.
Ury’s eyebrows shot up. “You!” he snarled, his expression lurching through
surprise and rage before settling on something meant to look like relief. “I
mean—good, boy—you’ve escaped!”

Lopex spoke before I could answer. “Perhaps I was too quick to promote you,
Ury. I hope this will teach you not to be so eager to abandon your men, even
your slaves. Your men are safe, and the sorceress has sworn an oath not to harm
us. I have come to fetch the rest of the crew. We will camp on the beach while
we refit, and take our meals at her cottage.” Just before he turned away, his
gaze rested on my face for an instant, and one eyelid twitched. I watched him
walk away, but there was no further sign of recognition, and I dismissed it.
Surely Lopex hadn’t just winked his thanks at me.

As we headed back inland, Ury grabbed me. To anyone watching it would have
looked like he was leaning on me, but with each step he squeezed my neck
painfully. “That’s the second time you’ve made me look a fool, boy,” he
muttered, his beard scratching my ear. “I won’t forget it. Lopex wants you
alive, but you don’t need your tongue. I wouldn’t go to sleep if I were you,
slave.”

For the next few days, the thought of a furious Ury with an even worse grudge
had me glancing over my shoulder at every noise, but his leg kept him from
acting on his threat. Meanwhile, Lopex seemed to be everywhere at once, choosing
trees
to shape into replacement oars, working with our fat
stores-master to replenish our ship’s provisions and chivvying the carpenter to
complete repairs to the
Pelagios
. On the fifth day after we reached the
island I saw Lopex returning to the beach from somewhere. The ship’s carpenter,
a balding little man with only three fingers on his right hand, was sidling up
to him, shaking his head.

“It’s not so simple as all that, Lopex,” he was saying. “A month’ll never do,
not with the state she’s in.” He leaned down to rap at a hull plank near the
sand. “D’you hear that? Half these planks, it’s just barnacles and shipworm
holding them together. And the deep waves, they flex her keel fierce as she
crests. It’s Poseidon’s own miracle that we haven’t all fed the eels, sailing
her like this. Now, back at Korinthos yard I could refit in a month, but here
I’ll have to cut and shape everything separate.” He shook his head, sucking air
through his teeth. “You don’t want to rush it, Lopex. It’s her knees, don’t you
see, her knees won’t take it, they’re hanging off their pins—”