POSEIDON HAS BESTOWED them with a calm night at sea. The breeze is gentle and warm. Filling the sails to aid their journey to Keos. The water is dark and tranquil, save for the rise and fall of the tides. Everyone aboard the Adrestia are enjoying the quiet, but Alexios is restless. It's like he isn't sure what to do with himself in moments of peace anymore. Even Barnabas and the historian have taken a reprieve from the helm for the night.
The Eagle Bearer glances over his shoulder at the princess. Her bronze-scaled linothorax is tossed aside, lying next to his dark leather cuirass. White linen is still wrapped around her thigh, exposed by the way her Athenian blue chiton rides up. She's asleep or resting her eyes -he's unsure which it is, but he goes to her out of impulse.
Alexios crouches next to her and lays his hand on her shoulder –whispering her name. "Fuck," she breathes, rolling onto her side. A moment later one of her eyes opens -sparkling like storm clouds right before lightning strikes- and focuses on the person who'd disrupted her blissful dream.
He smiles, and Irene supposes there are worst sights to look upon after being woken. "You've got a foul mouth, princess," he notes, teasing.
She glares at him. You shouldn't curse so much Zephyr used to say, she'd never taken that advice. Few things could provide instant satisfaction like a well-timed curse. "And you've got a foul scent, misthios," Irene bites back, propping her head up.
His smile falters -caught off guard by how quickly she utters the sharp response. "You speak to anyone like that?" Alexios asks, imagining certain people wouldn't take kindly to being insulted in such a manner. He's earned more than a few bloody noses and black eyes for not biting his tongue.
Irene sits up and stretches, lifting her arms out and above her head. "Believe me," she says, breath catching when her back pops, "this silvertongue has gotten me into and out of a lot of trouble."
A concupiscent glint appears in his eyes -dark and warm like cinnamon. Alexios smirks. "Is that all it can do?" Irene rolls her eyes and pushes him off-balance. He falls back to the deck, laughing softly.
"So why did you disturb my slumber?" She asks, crossing her arms. He doesn't say anything, only rises from the deck and motions for her to follow. The princess follows him to the bow of the Adrestia.
"What are you doing?" Irene bids as he steps over the prow of the ship and slides down onto the gilded ram. "You're mad!" She hisses, trying not to wake everyone aboard the ship. Alexios ignores her. Once he balances himself, he turns and extends his hand toward her. Against better judgment, Irene places her hand in his.
Alexios steadies her as the ram dips below the water's surface and Irene extends her arms out like wings -feeling the salt spray kiss her palms. Before her is only open water, shining silver with the Moon's reflection. No land in sight, nor another vessel. Among the sea's powers is the ability to make even the bravest of warriors feel small. The princess closes her eyes, succumbing to her reverie.
"Feels like you're flying doesn't it?" Only after he speaks does Irene realize how close they are –his chest, sans armor, is flush against her back, strong hands are holding her onto her waist, his warm breath hitting her neck. She shivers despite the warm and humid air.
KEOS, LESTRIS, AND Seriphos form the triad known as the Pirate Islands. In all her travels, Irene has never lingered near them for longer than needed. The rumors surrounding how Koressia came to be under pirate control were enough to even make veteran sailors bristle with discomfort. Clear, turquoise waters give Keos the veneer of paradise. After docking in Poiessa though, the stench of death becomes apparent and Irene realizes every rumor ever told about the pirates of Keos was true.
Phobos stops on a hill overlooking the burnt city of Koressia, though the temple dedicated to Athena remains unscathed save for the black banners hanging from scaffolds. Alexios dismounts Phobos and looks up at the princess still astride the blood bay stallion. She'd offered to go with him to meet Xenia, but he insists on going alone. This quest was his burden no matter how willing she was to help shoulder the weight.
He ties his sword, bow, and quiver to Phobos' saddle blanket, but secures the broken spear to his back with a rope baldric. He's not foolish enough to march into a pirate settlement completely unarmed. "I'll meet you back at the Adrestia," he tells her, setting off along a narrow, winding path downward. Irene waits until he is out of sight before taking up the reins and turning Phobos back toward Poiessa.
Alexios returns as the final supplies are being loaded below deck. Barnabas is eager to put the Pirate Islands behind him. Irene learns it had been off the northern coast of Keos where his ship had sunk, stranding him and his beloved Leda -claiming his right eye too. As if that hadn't been enough, they washed up on a white sand beach greeted at spear and knifepoint by the malákes.
By sunset they leave port again, charting a course to Korinthia to follow Alkibiades lead with the hetaera. Xenia provided the information Alexios seeks for a price and provides the opportunity to hunt the Golden Feather of Ajax should he wish to earn the fee back. Barnabas, Herodotus, Irene, and Alexios sit and the small fire at the stern of the ship, sharing a sweet Samian wine.
"My mother!" The Eagle Bearer exclaims as Irene passes a kylix of watered wine to him. "A pirate!" A piece of him wonders if Xenia had told the truth, but the fondness in the pirate queen's voice tells him she had.
"She sounds like quite a woman," Irene remarks, shifting closer to both the fire and Alexios. Daughter of King Leonidas, fugitive of Sparta and pirate -the list of monikers for Myrrine may very well grow longer before he is reunited with his mother.
TELLIA GROANS, THREE fingers on her draw hand are mangled after fending off a pirate trireme and pentekonter. Irene prepares a cataplasm of aloe and symphis for after the procedure and checks the dagger placed in the brazier. It is not ready yet. She kneels next to the archer and presents an anodyne of hemlock and violet mixed with watered wine -for pain. Tellia downs the bitter drink, tossing the silver cup aside and takes a strip of leather between her teeth.
Irene binds Tellia's forefinger and thumb together -they were not maimed as the others. Flesh hangs from bone and blood puddles beneath her hand. The smallest finger must be removed completely, but the other two can be salvaged below the first knuckle. The princess checks the dagger again, this time the iron blade is glowing red. Mikythos kneels, having agreed to assist, and grips onto the hilt of the cautery.
The archer screams to the heavens when Irene brings down the edge of a freshly sharpened knife, severing the smallest finger. Before she screams again, the other two mangled extremities are gone too. Mikythos presses the flat of the glowing blade against the bloody stumps. Tellia's eyes go wide before she faints against the mast.
Pleased with how the wounds sealed, Irene thanks Mikythos for his assistance and bids him discard the amputated fingers. She washes away the blood and cleans the burns before applying the cataplasm and wrapping Tellia's disfigured hand with linen. She wouldn't draw a bow again, but she could learn to wield a sword and shield.
Despite the slim cut on her cheek and arm, the princess insists on tending to others -it's in her nature. Though she is skilled with a blade and has sent more than a handful of people to the Gates of Hades, there's an innate desire deep in her being to help others. By the time she cleans and binds the wounds of both rowers and warriors, it has grown late. She retires beneath the bowpost, stretching out aching limbs. Soon after, Alexios joins her. "You're unscathed?" Irene asks, raising a dark brow at the blood still staining his cuirass.
He nods and a smirk crosses his lips. "I am the Eagle Bearer," Alexios remarks, tone cocksure and goading as though that title alone makes him untouchable. She rolls her eyes, leaning forward to the loosen the ties of her dented greaves -one of the strips of cloth has slipped into a tight knot. His fingers brush over hers, breaking her focus as he deftly pulls on the tie and forcing the knot to come loose. Irene pushes back her hair, tucking dark strands behind her ear. "You have my thanks for helping the crew," Alexios tells her, his smile genuine.
Irene settles back into the alcove. "Well, you better hope we don't run into many more pirates on the way to Korinth. I don't have many herbs left." She'd used the last of the hemlock to help ease Tellia's pain, even her store of dry fennel was nearly gone. Alexios leans back next to Irene and crosses his arms. Gaze quickly darting from her to the sky where the last light of the sun is slipping away beneath the dark horizon.
"Trouble has a nasty habit of following me," he tells her. The princess lets a dry chuckle pass through her lips -trouble follows her too and in that aspect, perhaps they are a match made by the gods.