For those of you who checked my profile, you know I've been at Outakon this weekend, which is why this is so late, but my beta got it back to me liquity split and its up!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Any and all characters related to actual people are fictional representations of themselves.

Dedication: To Tay for being the sweetest Hikari ever ;) she's waited 8 chapters for this one! and for Val foe being such an awesome friends and beta! And special thanks to all my reviewers, i've been getting more with each chapter which means the story is getting better and better! I'm so happy!

As always read, review, reply, ask questions, post theories and go nuts!

Chapter IX: The Eye of Timaeus

Yugi didn't sleep that night. He couldn't. Not with his captor still absent and he was alone in the man's bed. He couldn't face the door, and instead, slept huddled against the wall. The bed was mercifully large and he managed to pull himself into a tight ball on one side, hoping the additional space would send a clear message. But in his heart, he didn't believe it. He'd feigned sleep and waited—each second was a thousand years in the heart-pounding silence of his panic.

When the door opened, he'd thought he'd imagined it. He'd hoped he'd imagined it, but was too frightened to check. The footsteps that followed confirmed his fears. His closed eyes squeezed tighter in fear. All he could do now was to wait.

He heard each step click across the wooden planks with alarming clarity. The click of clasps and the whoosh of armor being removed, the low thud as it was placed on the table. Then the armbands unlocked with a click and a metallic clang as they fell. Then the shin guards, which were followed by a soft stomp of the foot. The belt was last. Yugi's heart stopped, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd remove the under-armor as well.

Yugi covered his mouth to stifle a squeak. He listened, but heard nothing. His heart pounded in his ribs like a rubber ball perpetually slamming between two walls. He waited for the bed to eventually dip with the additional weight.

Except, it never came.

Yugi didn't know whether to be surprised or relieved. He might have been more relieved if the waiting hadn't been so torturously long, and he must've worried himself into an uneasy sleep because when he opened his eyes again, it was with the sudden jolt of waking and not having remembered falling asleep. And the other side of the bed was still empty.

Fear replaced with curiosity, Yugi climbed over the covers and searched the room. He half-expected Timaeus to have slipped in with him unnoticed, but there was no dip in the bed, and the covers unmoved and the sheets cold. Confused and curious, Yugi searched the room for his missing captor. Too dark to see, he ventured out of the bed. Morning light started blooming through the windows. The aftercastle's far bow was a wall of glass and the minimal light provided him a semi-clear view of the room.

He found Timaeus in the last place he expected: curled up, sound asleep, on a couch Yugi hadn't noticed was next to the desk. Yugi blinked, surprised. What kind of captor slept in the same room as his prisoner? Yugi didn't have any malicious intent towards the man, but he couldn't possibly know that, could he? Hadn't he already made a speech about not trusting him?

Yugi slipped off the bed and felt the cold floor bite his bare feet. Air swept through the light sheath: frigid, but bearable. He tip-toed to the couch, then stopped to take in Timaeus' sleeping profile. He slept in his under-armor, but the cloak was draped up to his chest. Curled on his side, his arms bunched under his cheek in a make-shift pillow. He looked calm, almost lazy. He breathed in shallow, peaceful breaths. His mouth was a serene smile and his brows relaxed, revealing an almost-childlike face. Now that Yugi really looked, his face was peaceful—calm and tranquil. Fearless. Worriless. To Yugi, he looked almost… innocent.

It didn't suit the man he'd come to know that day. In fact, like this, he looked almost kind. Almost… handsome. Yugi heard himself think it and wished he hadn't, but denying it was like saying the desert was cold in midday. It was simply a fact. Timaeus was simply beautiful. He didn't look Atlantian or Greek now that Yugi noticed. He boasted a warrior's body and knew how to use both its appeal and its strength. But unlike the broad-shouldered, muscle-bound warriors who boasted power, Timaeus was trimmed and corded with a strong, elegant strength. His voice was intimidation invoking both fear and pleasure—even Yugi couldn't deny the treacherous rush of desire he'd felt coupling his fear each time the man spoke. His face was the perfect blend of strong angles that hinted at Spartan ancestry and soft Antolian sensuality. His wild hair was enough evidence of some Antolian blood. Awake, he was power incarnate: strong, carnal, and elegant. But asleep, that same power—though by no means muted—was beautiful, tantalizingly so.

And even more so were his eyes: that single emerald gem that captured and displayed all of what he was and yet kept it perfectly concealed. That one was hidden beneath his hand, but its twin was open in full view—and at this angle, Yugi could see it for what it truly was: a horrible scar. But he was reluctant to call it ugly. Fierce, certainly. Terrible, yes—but instead of fear or disgust, it invoked sympathy and sadness. Where had it come from? What had he done to deserve it? If he deserved it at all.

Tentatively, Yugi reached a hand towards it. He traced the angry red line like the scratch of an animal's claw or the sharp bite of a blade. Was it a war injury? Then why had no one seen it? Was it an animal attack? Then how did he survive with only this? Just like that, Yugi was swept up in the myth of this man, and he felt no shame because of it, as he traced a feathery finger down the line of the scar and gently rubbed it with his thumb.

Who are you? Yugi whispered.

"Does it bother you?" He hadn't seen the lips move, but Yugi heard him speak. A dark, clear resonance so deep it was a shadow of a sound, like a large cat's purr. Yugi retracted his hand like he'd been burned, but suddenly, it was snatched like a falcon ensnaring a fish.

A breath caught in Yugi's throat and froze there. Before he could fight, he was pulled forward and found his back lying on the couch. Timaeus leaned over him—his mouth a neutral line, his face grave and his eyes betraying no emotion. He asked again. "Does it bother you?"

Yugi gasped in horror and his cheeks grew warm with the evidence of his shame. He wanted to speak, but his throat tightened and words slipped through in choked breaths. His heart ricocheted in his ribs. He was certain he could hear it. And he was certain Timaeus could, too. He closed his eyes in a harsh squint and waited for a punishment that never came.

He opened one eye slowly.

Timaeus cocked his head to side, bemused—like a kitten unsure what to make of a new toy. He took in Yugi's bewilderment and smiled coyly like a sphinx. "It does not take much to make your heart pound, does it?" Yugi wanted to disappear.

Timaeus released him and sat up. He draped the mantle over the arm of the couch, and with casual ease, scooped his shin guards and boots on the floor and put them on. Yugi stared at him, too shocked to move. Like everything that just happened was a trick of the light, and the ghost was actually a shadow.

Yugi shot up and grabbed his arm before he could get up. Timaeus had the nerve to give a curious blink, genuine or not. He looked like he wanted to ask, but Yugi made an imperious gesture, and with Yugi's shock now a glare that was clearly meant to mask his shame, Timaeus silenced. With his cheeks still flushed and his teeth still gritted, Yugi demanded, "What… was that?"

Timaeus' puzzled expression vanished, and he freed his arm with a simple tug and gathered the rest of his armor. "Don't be embarrassed," he said. His words drowned in casual compliance as he dressed. "You're not the first one I've caught staring," he admitted. "And you won't be the last." There was a hint of accepted sympathy in that statement, and Yugi felt ashamed of himself.

"I wasn't staring," he rebutted, but turned his head with a bob of his chin. "I was just… curious… about it." It wasn't a lie, but admitting it was no source of pride.

Timaeus stared at him with hard eyes. "Do you want to know?" The tone was neutral, but the depth of his voice made it sound grave, daring Yugi to ask the truth. Surprisingly, he might even give it if Yugi said yes.

He pondered it. Curiosity bubbled in his belly, singing high notes at the thought of learning a secret—even if the secret was more fun when it was kept. After all, wasn't that the point of it? Wasn't it fun because of the creativity and mystery? And yet, knowing held its own reward. But this wasn't some simple background story either: it was meticulously well-kept and deeply personal. Did he even have a right to ask?

"No," Yugi said softly. "I don't think so."

"Good." The deepness was childishly high and all earlier threats were gone. "Because I wouldn't have told you anyway."

Yugi stared at him, stunned and angry. "Then why ask me?"

"To tease you." He had the audacity to wink, the effect in no way marred by his single eye. His smile was bright and childish and made Yugi growl. Timaeus only smiled. Unlike Yugi, he looked fresh and all ready for the day's events. "You have no tongue for humor, Yugi?"

"Humor when it is appropriate," Yugi spat with the authority of a noble. "Not as an underhanded way of scolding a guest."

Timaeus only laughed, grabbed his mantle off the couch and threw it over his armor in a single, graceful swoop. "You're quite a spitfire in the morning, aren't you?" he said casually, clipping it in place. "I pity the man who marries you. Poor lad may not be ready for so much spice in his bed."

Yugi choked on a retort, and stuck his tongue out at him.

Timaeus just chuckled and snapped his armbands in place. "You should get some more rest. I'll send Rhebekka to check on you." He strolled out the door before Yugi could protest, but he could just feel the smile etched onto the man's face, like this victory was some sort of conquest. Yugi growled low in his throat, then grabbed a pillow, crushed it to his face, and screamed.

X X X

"Has he always been this… infuriating!?" Yugi asked Rhebekka with an aggravated click of his tongue.

"Oh yes... always," she said, unweaving the bandages without missing a beat. She had her hair tied once more into coils, with the silver ribbons she otherwise kept tied to her bodice. Yugi wondered if the simple gray dress was the uniform of Atlantis' healers. "Least, as long as I've known him, but I'm afraid I haven't known him that long."

That perked Yugi's curiosity. "How long have you known him, then?"

"I've been in his service about four years?" she paused and pondered sweetly, pulling another bottle from her belt. "But I've known him since he came to Atlantis. Almost… eight years ago?" She poured the contents into a cup of water. "Drink this."

"And before that?" Yugi asked, taking the drink. It smelt sweet like honey but tasted bland then oddly bitter and went down like sawdust.

Rhebekka shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. For all I know, he sprouted full grown from a dragon's egg. There's a reason the man inspires myth, you know," she said with a sparkle in her green eyes that hinted at mischievous secrets—more rumors and games than real truths. In Rhebekka's eyes were the fantasy and the curiosity. In Timaeus' eyes, both the vibrant emerald and the scar was mystery, revealing nothing—and what he did would never add up to an answer.

"Has anyone… well…" Yugi wasn't sure how to ask the question without sounding foolish. "Tried to figure it out?"

"Everyone's wondered," Rhebekka corrected, re-corking her bottles. "But it's a tricky prospect: the soldiers, both those who've been with him since the beginning and those who entered his service late, want to know what kind of man they serve, but all they need to know is that he is their General and Trierarch, and the King trusts him. Anything else, as you can understand, they're too afraid to approach. The people of Locri know nothing of his background, but he is a good ruler and a kind one: it simply isn't important. Only his closest servants, me included, have asked. His fellow generals have asked. Even his past lovers have bragged that he only trusted them with the truth," she snorted. "But he'd only ever given us each a different answer and we know none of them are the truth."

She laughed and listed each one, flailing her hands in a dramatic performance. "'I was an orphan who stowed away on a pirate ship. I was a performance fighter who rescued the King from an assassin. My mother was a dragon and my father a human lost at sea.' The list goes on, some more fantastical than others. The only fact is that Dartz met him in Greece and Timaeus impressed him, and even the details of that are cloudy at best." Her laugh rolled from her throat, loud and dramatically stern. "Timaeus has been loyal to him ever since. And don't even ask about the scar. He's a master at evading that question." There was a hidden darkness in her tone, and coldness in her eyes that made Yugi's stomach drop. "We don't ask, and he doesn't say."

Almost too quickly, her voice brightened. "But that just adds to the mystery," she concluded with a wink. She examined his arms and he studied her work. Even the worst of his bruises were now pale and sickly yellow, and the rest had faded into his skin. Yugi smiled and tested his limbs; yesterday's soreness had faded that morning and now it was completely gone. Even the one swelling on his cheek had cleared. The room didn't have a mirror, but he could make out his reflection clear enough in the sun-lit glass.

"Looks like you're all set," she concluded, packing up her things and Yugi turned from the window to thank her.

"Make sure you eat today as well," she reminded.

"I will," he promised and grimaced, yanking on the hem of that revealing sheath. "I don't suppose you have any other clothes for me, do you?"

"As a matter of fact," she said in an impish tone, and pulled something else out from her bag and set it on the bed. "Lord Timaeus told me if you were able to be up and about to give you these."

Normally, he'd reject any gift from Timaeus as a matter of pride, but his curiosity perked, Yugi abandoned the window and hopped over to the bed. A pair of white leather sandals, elegant and noble, sat obediently on top of a folded garment of shiny black material that felt slippery under Yugi's fingers and was seamed with gold threads.

"He also had me request that you join him for the morning meal," Rhebekka said quickly, and Yugi's hand flew away like the cloth had burned him.

"What?" The sound he made was between a squeak and a disbelieving grunt.

"What?" Rhebekka arched an innocent brow. "You need to eat, after all."

Yugi arched a skeptical brow. "Will His Majesty be joining us?" Yugi asked.

Rhebekka didn't blink and shook her head. "Just the two of you."

"Then tell Timaeus, I apologize, but I am not inclined to answer his request and would prefer to dine in my own quarters," Yugi said in a flat command, but his expectations were dashed when Rhebekka's impish grin returned.

"I told him you'd say that." She sighed almost apologetically, but then she giggled. "So he told me that you are entitled to your choice, but…" She sang the word and held up her pointer finger, and Yugi's stomach dropped. "You will have to go to the mess hall and get it yourself and you will have to go exactly as you are now." Yugi looked confused, then his eyes expanded when her hand slipped to the clothes she'd laid out. "These were for the occasion, after all?"

Yugi's face blanched and he looked at her like a child who'd been tattled on.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Rhebekka giggled. "I like you, Yugi—I do—but he's my Trierarch."

For the second time that day, Timaeus made Yugi want to scream.

X X X

"You look lovely, Yugi," Timaeus complimented brightly through the crash of the door being thrown open with such anger, it hit the opposite wall and bounced up.

Yugi glared at him, unamused. Timaeus sat at the table in the heart of the aftercastle's main loft. The maps and battle pieces were cleared away and replaced with an assortment of native delicacies and goblets decorated with the popular lotus. The two chairs were stationed across from the other and the silverware was arranged accordingly. Timaeus occupied one with his hands folded under his chin, almost politely. Between either entertaining the Trierarch's ego and his dignity under the scrutiny of the crew, Yugi still didn't know which was the lesser of the two evils.

"Come sit, it's not poisoned," Timaeus encouraged with a gesture of his hands. Yugi arched a skeptical brow. "Give me some credit, little one," Timaeus sighed, almost bored, and placed a patient chin in his waiting palm.

Yugi rolled his eyes and dragged the chair to the opposite end of the table, studying it as he did so. Each bowl was an assortment of Kemet crops: dissected pomegranates, stained with juice and boasting shiny seeds like tiny rubies; tear-shaped figs fresh from the sycamore, pulp dates and oddly-shaped palm fruits split open to reveal their treasured pulp, and a bowl of rough barley bread packed into flat gritty cakes. The cups were filled with a sweet perfumed liquid like honey—dark in color and light in texture. "What's all this?" Yugi asked, sitting down.

"Can't a man invite his guest to breakfast?" Timaeus said almost chivalrously, and pushed forward the pomegranate bowl.

Yugi's face remained stoic. "And this?" He grabbed the skirt with a harsh tug.

Timaeus shrugged. "It looks lovely on you, and I trust it's more comfortable than a night smock." It was indeed a lovely garment: a rich black linen slip shot through with golden threads—the top cut to expose the shoulders and connected at the neck in a single necklace of gold cloth. It clung to Yugi's skin and hugged his lithe chest, but flared at the bottom—hugging firm hips and hiding sculpted legs. Coupled with the soft white oxen sandals, it was a lovely outfit. Or it could've been, if it hadn't been meant for a woman, which Yugi was quick to criticize.

"I apologize if the… style is not to your liking, but I'm afraid we're limited until we can restock in Djanet." Timaeus didn't sound apologetic and nudged the bowl closer to Yugi.

"May I have a knife?" Yugi demanded, his stomach rebelling against him, and Timaeus chuckled.

"You aren't going to try and stab me with it, are you?" He went in for the kill and plucked a date from the bowl and sank his teeth into it without remorse.

"No, I want to cut this dress into a tunic," Yugi snapped, fidgeting in his seat.

Timaeus chuckled. "I'm afraid I don't have the heart to ruin such a work of loveliness." Yugi growled, knowing he wasn't speaking about the dress.

"Now come eat, I'm sure you're hungry," he encouraged. "You clearly have no desire to impress me and I won't think any less of you."

Yugi stayed still. Timaeus pushed forward the platter of fresh pomegranates once again. It sat in front of Yugi like a piece of cake. Yugi could smell the honey-sweet juice dripping from its seeds. Yugi's stomach ached with desire. It was a taunt, he realized. A reward for good behavior.

Forgetting decorum, Yugi grabbed a piece and sank his teeth into the sweet seeds. Ruby juice dripped down his chin, but he whipped it away with his hand and dove into the fruit like a starving beast. He'd finished an entire fruit when Timaeus offered him some wine. Yugi drank it greedily in only a few gulps. "How far are we from the capital?" he demanded, wiping juice from his lip with his arm.

"No more than two days," Timaeus explained, pouring another drink. "More wine, Yugi?"

Yugi swallowed. "My name is Ujalah," he corrected.

Timaeus blinked. "I'm aware, but you seem to prefer it. Unless there is a reason you'd prefer I call you your given name?"

Yugi paused before he answered. "It was a childhood name—one of the many my siblings and I gave each other. It used to be just for family."

"Used to be?" Timaeus questioned, but regretted it when he saw Yugi's defeated face. It lasted only a second before his mask returned, but Timaeus had seen it, and he did not like being the cause of it.

"Sometimes family loses that privilege." He stabbed a spoon into another pomegranate and scooped out the seeds, but the message was clear and Timaeus wisely did not press further.

"My apologies." He sat back and took a small sip from his own glass, having eaten his fill before the younger arrived.

"Now, I have a question," Yugi said, taking the end of another fruit, this one whole, and ripped it open. "Why do you have your ship speak Aramaic?"

Timaeus pulled away the glass and stared at him with blinking curiosity. "Is it not the common tongue of the region? And as a General, should I not know the language of the lands I am visiting on behalf of my king?"

"Yes, but not just you speak it," Yugi noted, with a cat-like grin and a spark in his pretty eyes. "You spoke it the other day to your men. And in casual conversation with your physician, and with me—assuming I knew how to use it, which I do—but that is not the issue. So why?"

"You're very perceptive, little one. I have learned many languages in my travels as has Rhebekka—she's a bit of a prodigy, as you can see. As for my men, well, I stress the importance of the arts of invasion, and that includes knowing the language of our neighbors; both so we may capture the enemy and spare the innocent. Aramaic is simply the choice of the world at the moment."

"I see," Yugi said, unimpressed.

"Do you have any more questions for me?" Timaeus asked, and Yugi felt spotlighted under the playful gaze. Once more, the cat was playing with his favorite mouse.

"Yes, actually." Yugi matched his expression and grinned. "As your guest, I'd like to leave these chambers and explore the ship." It was not a request.

"That sounds delightful." Timaeus stood from his chair and finished his wine in a single swallow. "When you're finished with breakfast, you can accompany me on a tour of the ship."

Yugi paused in his sip. "That isn't what I meant," he growled.

"I know exactly what you meant," Timaeus chuckled. "But as you'll recall, you're under my protection, which means I will not be letting you out of my sight." He threw the smile over his shoulder, casual and matter-of-fact. "Now please," he spun. "Finish eating."

Yugi swallowed the wine but put down the fruit, unable to stomach any more.

X X X

X X X

The Eye of Timaeus, as Timaeus proudly boasted the name of his ship, was far bigger, bulkier, and prettier than any Egyptian bark. Yugi's spent much of his life on ships up and down the Nile, but while those thin, slender, single-masted galleys were perfect for transportation and travel—the largest parts were only ever the sails, the deck house, and the rudder post that controlled the steering oars. Even the Royal Barks, with their long rows of oars, were single-decked. They were nothing like the monstrous beauty of the Atlantian ship, and now that Yugi was awake and calm and able to appreciate its beauty, he took in each detail with wide eyes and a baited gasp.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Timaeus swooped up behind him, not even surprised, and ushered Yugi forward with a small push on the back of his shoulders. His body felt weightless and put up no resistance when Timaeus urged him forward.

Easily twice as wide as the slender galleys, with their short width and long hulls that he was used to, Yugi felt overwhelmed by the size. Overhead, a web of ropes and nets climbed to the massive center mast. A mizzenmast on either side sported a multitude of lateen-rigged sails that spiraled in triangular shapes like silvery and black dragon wings. Yugi stepped across the deck, becoming dizzy as the sails danced in the air above him. Curiosity drew him up the foredeck atop the forecastle where the sculpture of a massive dragon lay. Its wings folded into the design of the forecastle's bow—its chest, neck, and claws protruding forward and its massive head shot forward, jaw opened and poised to strike: forming an elevated beak.

"Beautiful" was too much of an understatement. The Eye of Timaeus was in a superior class of its own.

"What kind of ship is this?" Yugi asked in a voice that was all breath.

"A galleon." Timaeus stood behind him, his hands on Yugi's shoulders and his eyes beaming.

"Galleon?" Yugi asked curiously over his shoulder.

Timaeus' eyes glinted with sparkling delight, and his scar gave the impression that he was smirking. "In a way, its name is derived from the galleys favored by the South, but unlike your country's smaller, lighter designs, we've also incorporated the style of the eastern Carracks." He explained in a perfect purr rich with enthusiasm and delight. "Atlantis simply… perfected both styles."

"It's…" Yugi couldn't find the right word. The forecastle was half the size of the aftercastle suites, but high enough that Yugi could see over the edge of the ship, and the distance between himself and the Nile was unsettling. At least two-decked, the Nile was at least twenty djesers below. "Huge," he choked the word, wondering how it could glide so fluently through the Nile with such weight. "How can it float? The Nile is only a rod deep. How does it not hit the sandbars?"

Timaeus chuckled at his shock, his anxious fingers eager to point out the ship's masterpieces. "An excellent question," he chuckled. "We were fortunate to have arrived in time for the flood, otherwise I'd never be able to sail her down the Nile. The current for the most part takes care of the sandbanks, if we keep her in the heart where the water's the deepest."

"What about at night?" Yugi interrupted. No Kemet dared sail at night because of the sand dunes. Boats had to be hauled onto shore. It would take twice as many men as Timaeus had to drag this boat onto land.

Timaeus was quick with an answer. "Anchors," he explained to Yugi's bewilderment. "At night, we throw weights and hooks into the water so it keeps the boat locked in place. At dawn, we simply raise the anchors or cut the ropes, and we don't waste valuable sailing time by lugging it back and forth on land. And if that doesn't work," he added with a proud hand banging the side of the hull. "The hull is made from oak. It's strong and sturdy and can withstand the waters and the earth."

That made sense, Yugi thought. Galley hulls were weak but light, and meant to stay above the waterline to avoid the sandbanks: to do so, freeboards were usually kept low. It made the galleys fast and maneuverable, but much more vulnerable to rough waves and weather. A stronger hull avoided that problem.

"She's also elongated," Timaeus continued, boasting the ship's beauty. And Yugi leaned forward to look. He saw the hull was painted turquoise to mimic the green Nile and, Yugi assumed, the sea. "A lowered forecastle like this one," he gestured an arm to the aft, "A square tuck," Another arm pointed to the aftercastle. "And a hull that's longer, lower, and narrower creates much greater stability and reduces wind resistance." He spun and fanned his arms in a heavenly gesture to the whole of the vessel. "Makes for perfect maneuverability. But…" He spun to Yugi and smiled, aloof and secretive. "Her true power comes in the combination of her ability to harness the wind." He looked heavenward towards the billowing sails, and suddenly, Yugi realized there was wind blowing through him. "Sea." He backed towards the railing, and this time, gestured his arm below. "And strength."

Yugi leaned over the hull for a look. He wasn't surprised to see either side of the hull's flank projecting a row of oars, rowing the massive construction in tune with the Nile's Northern currents. Galley sails were squared for catching wind, but they were almost entirely powered by oars and man, functioning independent of the wind and Nile current.

"It's ingenious, isn't it?" Timaeus boasted.

"What about the oars?" Yugi looked at him confused.

Timaeus looked stunned for a moment, then explained. "Galleons, unlike Galleys, are powered entirely by wind. The sails," Again, he gestured to the spiral of lateen triangles. "Allow us to catch and alter the wind to work in our favor. However, as the galleys have shown us, it helps to have an alternative method of motion independent of air currents, especially if the river is flowing in one direction. Don't you agree?"

Yugi hadn't thought of that. Kemet's landscape was an oddity with the southern deserts elevated and the delta sunken. As such, the Nile flowed north from the large lakes of the south and its mouth fed the Delta basin before spilling into the northern sea. Traveling north was easy with the current, but south was a tricky devil without oars and rudders to steer.

"Since we're going north, we're fortunate to have the current on our side and the wind, but having my men offer additional assistance will cover much greater distance much faster," Timaeus finished, beaming with pride and turned to Yugi with a look of boastful satisfaction.

"Wait," Yugi looked confused and suddenly realized where they were. And who was not here. "Who's rowing the boat?" He looked around, just now noticing the deck was empty except for the two of them. He saw some hands moving about between the forecastle and the center deck, but it was completely absent of the company he'd seen the previous morning. "Where are the soldiers? The ship-hands?"

"My soldiers are sailors," Timaeus corrected. "Each one fights on the battlefield and keeps the ship moving at sea. I don't have room to waste for half-hands. Besides," Timaeus added with a devilish glint in his single eye that his scar illuminated. "Their quarters, toilets, and washrooms are below deck anyway. They rise at dawn, eat in the mess hall, and return to their work, and can simply retire when I dismiss them."

A sick feeling suddenly came over Yugi. "You mean... they don't live in the forecastle?"

Timaeus grinned, not even having the decency to look surprised by the question. "Oh no, the forecastle contains only the infirmary and, on occasion, Rhebekka's rooms when the Quartermaster's room is occupied. The mess hall and kitchens are below it."

"They are?" Yugi blinked.

Timaeus nodded. "With a back set of stairs leading to the infirmary. Her orders. Nutrition and health do go hand-in-hand, you see."

Yugi did see, and it filled him with rage. So then I could have gotten my own food and not have had to deal with him this morning! Yugi wanted to scream. All's well, he grumbled bitterly. I'd still have to go through the meeting room to get there. He'd be in Ammut's belly before he let Timaeus see him walking about nearly naked.

"She is beautiful," Yugi admitted, unable to sound reluctant. For all its beauty and majesty, The Eye of Timaeus was truly a magnificent and masterful piece of craftsmanship. "You have a right to be proud of her."

"Ah, I am." Timaeus' emerald eye danced with possessive delight and pride as he said it. "She's my pride and joy."

"I can see why," Yugi agreed, then chuckled rhetorically. "Though I doubt you can call her yours alone—unless, of course, you built her?" Yugi hadn't meant to initiate a challenge, but Timaeus took it as one and grinned.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Timaeus stated with his brightest and proudest smirk. Yugi looked at him with a disbelieving frown, but Timaeus' smirk only broadened. "As beautiful and powerful as galleons are, they're notoriously expensive. Even Atlantis only has four. Our military vessels are much smaller."

That did surprise Yugi, because the opposite was true of Kemet ships. Kemet's navy was rarely needed, but it was an impressive number of ships—all constructed from stronger, denser imported woods that didn't exist in the desert or the marsh. Atlantis had access to various resources, but wood had always been rare and expensive—especially since Greece, one of the more forested areas, had several tree species associated with its Gods.

"That is why I am Trierarch, little one," Timaeus continued. "It is not just because I am Captain of this crew and General of this Army. I am the one who ordered this ship's construction and financed it."

Yugi heart leapt into his throat. "How could you afford that?"

"Volunteering, mostly," Timaeus explained. "The people of Locri were more than happy to assist their Governor in building a ship to protect them. I had not even been there a year and already, I earned that rank. I believe it's the equivalent to a Nomarch in your country."

Yugi suddenly felt dizzy. Rhebekka had mentioned something about Timaeus being a ruler but surely, she didn't mean… Yugi felt his weight lean against the banister. He barely noticed Timaeus slip next to him and catch him round the waist. "Does my newfound status surprise you?" Timaeus asked with a purr that made Yugi shiver, and he hated himself for it.

"It certainly explains your arrogance," Yugi chided with a smirk.

"I'm arrogant, am I?" Timaeus chuckled. His smile curved to a smirk. That same smirk that made Yugi want to clench his fist and scream. "I prefer 'confident'. Arrogance is a term for men with no honor and I admit I'm proud enough that I consider myself much more chivalrous than that."

Yugi rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the less-than-humble response and shoved off the man's arm.

"Now I have a question for you, little one," Timaeus asked, pushing himself off the banister and strutted towards Yugi with an aloof smirk. It reminded Yugi of a cat sitting on the ledge, knowing full well its master craved attention. He stopped just in front of him. "Your sudden curiosity in the structure of my ship would not, by any chance, be an attempt to seduce military secrets from me, would it?"

Anyone notice the duality of the title of this chapter ;)

I dabbled with the end of this chapter SO many times before finally splitting it with the next chapter and then turning chapter 12 into its own chapter and so on, so I'm very happy with the end of this one: i wanted to keep Timaeus tour of the ship to this chapter so i was very happy about that.

Glossary:

Djesers — Ancient Egyptian unit of measurement; approximately 30 cm; the equivalent to one foot

Rod — ancient Egyptian form of measurement; 1 rod of a cord or 100 cubits, approximately 52.5 meters

Nomarchs — semi-feudal rulers who served as provincial governors over one of the 42 nomes (sepats in Egyptian) into which the country was divided. While the Pharaoh often appointed the Nomarch, the position could also be hereditary. When central authority was weak, the Nomarchs often expanded their own power base to take on many of the functions of the Pharaoh, and it was more likely that the position would be hereditary. At times, they ruled pretty much autonomously and could afford to ignore the weak (or non-existent) central government. Naturally, they gained a lot of authority during the Intermediate periods.

Note on Galleons: I based Atlantis' ships on 18th century galleons, huge, multi-deck ships; primarily the Spanish galleons which had high aftercastles or captain's quarters and were primarily merchant ships (which will make sense later) but some were redone as war ships. Given they were first constructed in Venice, and Atlantis was known as the most advanced civilization of the day, I decided they would be appropriate ships for Atlantis. However, since they were RIDICIOUSLY expensive to make, I limited these to only three with smaller ships comprising the navy (the opposite of Kemet as Yugi mentioned). They could either be sailed or have oars, though many had both. Traditionally, Trireme revered to having three layers of oars but they made no sense to me, so I changed the representation so it referred to The Eye of Timaeus' three decks, and Timaeus' Title was accurate.

In addition to Timaeus' compliment, the Trierarch wasn't just the ship's naval commander, but also the one who was required to pay for the ship's outfitting and maintenance. For this reason, they primarily ruled only one ship.

Next Time: Timaeus and Yugi have an interesting conversation and Dartz asks Timaeus an important question.