Wearing the look-by-me spell, Hekate came aboard the Sea Foam in the late afternoon, during a busy period of loading. There were guards to prevent thieving, clerks to write down what was brought aboard, examiners to see that what was listed on the bill of lading was actually in the packages, as well as the slaves who carried the goods. In the crowded conditions, the danger of touching someone was greater; however, there were so many people and things to distract the eye from her, that even if she did bump someone she only needed to step aside and she would never be noticed.
Weaving this way and that, she made her way below the decked-over area and found a place that seemed fully loaded. There she crammed her bundles into the spaces left by the curve of a number of barrels and squeezed herself behind bales of what she thought was cloth. Having sat down to wait until the loading was complete, she had time to think. The ease of her escape thus far was surprising.
Had Medea accepted her arguments? Certainly she seemed relieved when Hekate agreed that she would never return to Colchis. Perhaps Medea had decided it was better to be rid of a hated rival than to garner an empty satisfaction in Hekate's death, which would make more trouble for her. Perhaps . . . Still, when Hekate had left Ming Hao's house, the watcher had not touched her again. Had Medea blocked the scrying? Was it necessary? The watcher could have been Medea's, not Aietes', all along.
Not that Hekate had done anything either Medea or Aietes would have found suspicious. She saw a few clients at the market, then she had gone to the Black Genie to eat dinner. There she had followed Batshira into the kitchen, a thing she had done many times before. This time, however, she cast a no-see-no-hear spell and told the innkeeper she was leaving Colchis. She gave her the key to her rooms and another moon's rent. Over that time, little by little, Hekate said, Batshira should give to Yehoraz the herbs and amulets from the rooms and take the other contents for herself.
That done, she went back to her apartment, gathered up her three bundles, and cast the look-by-me spell. Kabeiros had not followed her from the inn; he had gone off on his own toward the market. From there, he had told her, he would take a long and winding path, not infrequently stopping to consort with other dogs in the city, down to the dock area, where he would find Sea Foam and conceal himself near the ship until she called for him.
Too easy, Hekate wondered? Not if Medea was helping her to leave. Hekate had no doubt that Medea knew ways to blind or divert a watcher and, she suspected, was capable of fixing Aietes' attention, too. Had she approached her father with tearful apologies, with promises of amendment of her ways?
Had she even needed to? Aietes was fond of Medea. Wouldn't he regret being so harsh to her? Hekate smiled. Likely enough it was Aietes who came to Medea with apologies. If so, that was the best luck that could befall her, Hekate thought. Aietes would not send for her that evening if he were trying to placate Medea, so he wouldn't know she had fled until the next day at least.
Hekate sighed. She could hope for such good fortune, but there was no way to know anything for certain. She must watch and wait. Taking a polished circle of metal from her special bundle, Hekate scryed the upper deck at intervals, keeping her observation short so no minimally Talented person would "feel" the watching. As evening approached, the loading reached a peak of activity, then began to diminish.
By dark, the clerks, examiners, and porters were gone and the captain and two officers went ashore. Bread, cheese, and wine were distributed to the crew who ate quickly, then rolled themselves in blankets and bedded down on the deck along the hull. Only one guard remained to watch the landing plank until the captain should return, when Hekate assumed the plank would be pulled in.
Having waited until there was no more murmuring or movement from the blanket-covered crew, Hekate extracted herself from behind the bales, walked softly and carefully to just behind the guard, and threw one of her amulets, making sure it rolled noisily into concealment behind some casks. The guard's head turned to the sound. Hekate called silently to Kabeiros, who came out of the shadows beside one of the dockside buildings.
The guard cast a look about the street to make sure no one was close enough to reach the ship and board it while his attention was distracted. Then he went to check on the noise behind the casks. He found the amulet, lifted it, and froze. Kabeiros dashed across the dock, leapt up the plank, and ran across the deck to slip into the dark underdeck where Hekate joined him.
They were safely behind the bales, black Kabeiros invisible in the black shadow, Hekate shielded by the look-by-me spell, before the guard moved. He was unaware that he had lost some moments, and turned alertly to scan the dock again. It was empty. The guard returned to his post, looking curiously at the amulet and wondering from where it had come. It was possible that one of the crew had lost it and it had caught on a rope and simply fallen off. Nonetheless, the man tucked it carefully in his belt, resolved to tell the captain what had happened. Colchis was a strange place.
A very dull two days followed for Hekate while the ship, which had left port after suffering only a cursory check for forbidden goods or pasengers, sailed down the river and turned southward along the coast and then almost due west. Hekate didn't mind at all. She had brought aboard sufficient food and water for several days, knowing that it might be possible for Aietes' ships to overtake them within that time. Afterward, she was reasonably sure they would be out of reach, unless the captain actually stopped and waited—and she knew how to deal with that.
She needed no occupation either because as soon as she had shifted the bales to make a fairly comfortable nest for herself and Kabeiros, she was overtaken by an irresistible urge to sleep. In her few wakeful periods, that puzzled her, until she remembered that she had slept away almost the whole of the first week in the caves of the dead. She needed to allow herself to unravel, she decided after thinking about it. She had slept in the caves of the dead to recover from the tensions and anxieties of living with Perses; now she slept to rest after the strain of so much healing magic and wariness in the presence of Aietes.
As with all ships, except under unusual circumstances, Sea Foam beached each evening. The crew went ashore to hunt and cook and to sleep far more comfortably than they could on the deck. When it was dark, Kabeiros also went ashore to hunt and to empty his bladder and bowels, which he did again at dawn. Hekate was also able to take care of her needs, using a bailing vessel that she then washed out in the ocean.
The result was so satisfactory that Hekate was seriously thinking about remaining in hiding for the whole trip, pilfering food and water or sharing Kabeiros' quarry, which she could cook by magic.
On the third day, she was much less sleepy and mentioned this notion to Kabeiros who cocked his head at her and asked, *Don't you think it strange that the captain didn't search for you or send a message to the palace to say you hadn't come aboard?*
*Likely he told Medea or sent a message to her when he went ashore. Also, I suppose Medea told him I would come secretly, and you know how ship captains are. The tides are more important than the orders of a land-bound lord, even one such as Medea. Doubtless he will be at sea for some time, moons or even years, and he assumes her orders would be forgotten. If he's an honest man, he can always repay the passage money when he returns—if she paid him anything, which I doubt.*
*Or repay the blood money if you aren't dead?*
That dry comment brought a thoughtful expression to Hekate's face. After a moment she said, *Now that I think about it, it is strange that he didn't set a search for me. If I were a ship captain, I wouldn't like to have an unknown person aboard, specially a person with the character Medea must have given me.*
*And I saw from where I was hidden that the captain took two officers with him. Would he bring witnesses to a meeting with Medea? Would she permit it?*
*Not if she didn't want anyone to know she was involved in my departure—even less if she were going to bid the captain toss me overboard or be rid of me in some other way.*
*Is it possible,* Kabeiros asked, *that he never saw Medea? Never received any orders from her at all?*
Hekate stroked Kabeiros' silky fur and sighed. *It is not only possible but probable. Why should Medea bother to make arrangements with the captain. Not for my welfare. She could have known about the ship and sailing time because she was getting or sending something by the Sea Foam. She knew I wouldn't come aboard openly for fear of Aietes' spies, so I wouldn't have to confront the captain while ashore where I could be put off.*
*Yes.* Kabeiros nodded like a man; Hekate saw his head move in the dim light that seeped under the deck from the open area in which the rowing benches stood. *And Medea would guess you would conceal yourself for as long as you could in case Aietes pursued the ship.*
Suddenly Hekate stiffened. *Kabeiros, I think she's done something to the ship. I think she intended to sink this ship with all aboard. That way she would be sure of being rid of me and no one else would be alive to be questioned.*
*How like Medea!* Kabeiros remarked. "Now what do we do?*
*I think we have no choice but to go to the captain.*
*I agree, but how are you going to tell him about the danger to his ship without being blamed for it?*
Hekate laughed softly. *I'll tell him as little of the truth as possible and any lies that are necessary to get him to thoroughly inspect his ship.*
Mentally, Kabeiros chuckled. *You are a wonderful liar. How did you learn the art so well?*
Any amusement was missing from Hekate's mental aura when she said, *By living with Perses.*
Kabeiros growled softly, then after a moment asked, *Do I stay here or go with you?*
*Come with me. I don't think the captain will order me thrown overboard without question, but if we are wrong and he did speak to Medea, you might need to protect me until I can cast a spell. And I will go as the crone. An old woman is less threatening . . . and less likely to interest the crew if they are long away from women.*
Kabeiros got to his feet and Hekate stood as soon as she had space to rise. Then, old and bent, but still wearing the look-by-me spell, she came out into the open belly of the ship, stepped on an unoccupied rowers' bench, and from there onto the broad plank that ran from prow to stern between the decked-over areas. Kabeiros leapt up after her, drawing exclamations of surprise and a few gasps. The crew watched the huge, black dog with open mouths and round eyes, which grew even rounder as Hekate drew near the captain and dismissed the spell that kept her from being noticed.
"Who in Plutos are you?" the captain roared, stepping back a pace. "How did you get aboard my ship?"
"I am called Hekate, and I came aboard your ship in the same way I walked from under the deck to here, bespelled so no one would see me. I am sorry that you are so surpised. I thought my passage with you had been arranged."
"Arranged? By who?"
"The Lady Medea, who cast upon me the spell that kept me hidden—"
"Medea?" The captain's voice rose to a roar again. "So that was why she wanted to speak to me? I didn't go. That woman is poison."
"You didn't go?" Hekate echoed. "When was this?"
"When I made port, three . . . no, four days ago. Why didn't she tell you I hadn't agreed to take you?"
Hekate frowned. "I'm afraid it was because she was annoyed with us both," she said, but she was thinking that Medea already had a grudge against this ship and its captain.
"Why should she be annoyed with me?" the captain protested. "I've traded in Colchis for years without trouble and often carried cargo for King Aietes."
That was how Medea knew the Sea Foam was in port and when it would leave, Hekate thought, but she shrugged and said, "You didn't obey her summons. That would be enough."
"And you?" the captain asked, but he sounded less angry, almost sympathetic.
Hekate sighed. "I crossed her pet sorcerer, Ming Hao. She sent for me in the market and told me to leave Colchis that very day. I hadn't even time to tell my clients. She named this ship and the time it would sail."
"From what I've heard about her, I'm surprised you're alive. But she had no cause to take a spite at me," the captain added indignantly. "I didn't refuse to obey her. I sent an excuse. I even asked for a new time to come to her."
"After you planned to sail?" Hekate laughed. "You didn't fool her, though. She knew when you planned to leave port because she told me the Sea Foam would sail exactly when it did sail. Captain, I think within moments after you sent your excuses, Medea set some enchantment on your ship."
"An enchantment on my ship?" The man's voice scaled up to a near screech. "Because of you?"
"No, oh no! I had nothing to do with that. Your doom was decided before she spoke to me. I think she bid me take this ship so that I would drown with you and your crew."
"Drown? You're mad! Even Medea can't reach me in the middle of the ocean."
"No, she can't," Hekate said quickly before he began to think that she might be Medea's agent and she might be guilty of the damage, whatever it was. "But she could easily have set a spell on some cargo you loaded or something some slave brought aboard—"
The captain was staring at her, eyes wide. "On an amulet?" he asked, starting to breathe quickly. "An amulet seemed to fall from the sky onto the ship. One of my crew who was acting as watchman brought it to me. It seemed harmless. It didn't do anything when he touched it or later when I touched it."
"An amulet could easily carry Medea's spell," Hekate said gravely, blessing the Mother that she had used what was clearly a magical artifact instead of a pebble or twig to carry the spell that froze the guard. "And I know the Lady Medea can make objects move through the air. I saw her do it with a globe of light. So the amulet could have been sent and dropped on your deck."
"But it didn't do anything."
"Are you sure, Captain? Won't you please look over your ship very carefully and make sure there is nothing wrong with it? If that amulet brought some kind of curse, it would fix itself to the ship at once so when your man touched it the magic was already gone from it and it was harmless. It is harmless now, I assure you. But the curse itself, that might act only slowly, like rotting the wood of your ship or . . . or . . . oh, I don't know anything about ships, but won't you please look to see the ship is sound?"
"You're a witch yourself!"
"Not really. I can only do small healing spells. I'm a healer. That's how I fell afoul of Ming Hao. I healed a client he had cursed. Perhaps if a curse was set on your ship, I could remove it or stop it from working."
The captain's lips thinned. "How do I know you didn't bring the curse aboard yourself?"
"Are you mad?" Hekate gasped. "If your ship sinks, I and my dog, Kabeiros, will drown with the rest of you. I cannot fly through the air nor swim well enough to save myself. You may be sure that I did nothing to harm your ship and that I will do all in my power to save it."
That argument had the force of reason. The captain, because he had traded in Colchis for many years, had met and dealt with many sorcerers. He had seen them move small objects but never themselves or anything large or weighty. Logic also said that there would be little reason for a sorcerer to pay him to bring goods or carry them if he could move them at no cost himself. If she would drown, she wouldn't harm the ship. He nodded brusquely at Hekate and ordered a half dozen of the crew to do an inspection of the ship.
At first nothing seemed wrong. The men walked along the hull, checking the caulking and prodding the boards to test their soundness, and no sign of weakness appeared. Even at the level of the rowers' benches, the men could find no sign of damage, although two hesitated over the lashings that held the planks of the hull together near the prow where the waves often splashed. However, as soon as a man descended below the waterline and pulled aside a rack of amphorae of oil, he set up a frightened shout.
The captain ran down, looked, exclaimed in horror and bellowed for Hekate to come at once. She stared where she saw his eyes fixed, but didn't understand what was turning him gray under his weather-beaten brown.
"Stop them!" he cried. "Stop them!"
"Stop who? What?" Hekate asked. "I don't know what's wrong."
"The roots. The roots that are used to lash together the planking of the hull. They're growing. They're twice the thickness they should be. Look. Look. Another thumbnail's width and they will force apart the planking and let in the sea."
Hekate didn't understand, but she touched the dark brown ropelike thing the captain's trembling finger indicated and muttered the spell she used to draw moisture from swollen tissue. Water began to drain out of the lashing and trickle down the hull. The brown rope shrank to a thinner, darker rope, and Hekate could see that the two boards it encircled were pulled more tightly against each other.
"Is that what—" Hekate began.
The captain was not paying attention. He was looking wildly up and down along the hull. "They are all growing," he breathed, his eyes starting with terror. "The hull will be pulled apart before the end of the day."
He jumped to the central walkway and screamed for the lookout to find a beach on which they could land. From there he ran to the deck near the prow from where he shouted for his steersman to sail closer to the shore and for two sailors who were staring open-mouthed to shift the sail to hold the wind. He bellowed curses against sorcerers and magic in between ordering the rest of the sailors to take to the oars to move them more swiftly.
Kabeiros, who had remained on deck when Hekate went down, slunk aside into the shadow and began to make his way as inconspicuously as possible to join her. He found her working her way around the hull, touching each lashing that seemed to be swollen and uttering the spell that leached out moisture.
*Thank the Mother for allowing me to use the high magic as well as the low,* Hekate said to him, when he stood beside her, to defend her if the sailors turned on her. *But even with drawing power from the air, I will never be able to keep all the lashings drained. They are drinking water from the sea, which is limitless.*
*If you can keep anything from bursting for even a few candlemarks, we'll probably be safe. The captain is looking for a place to beach the ship.*
Hekate breathed a long sigh of relief. *If I don't have to keep working at draining these roots, I'll try to tease out the spell Medea used. Then I'll be able to stop it or change it.*
*You'd better explain that to the captain as soon as he comes down here again because he'll be able to see that you can't control the damage with what you're doing.*
Hekate made an exasperated sound. *How do I explain negating the whole spell when I want him to believe I am only a healer?*
*You don't have to explain removing the spell. Everyone knows that most spells wear off after a few days. As soon as you find a way to counterspell the hull, you can tell the captain that the spell just wore itself out. There's nothing sorcerous about that.*
Hekate was about to answer, when the captain's voice came down from above. "Witch! Damn you! Get up here!"
"No!" Hekate shouted back. "I've dried about a third of the lashings. I don't want to drown any more than you do. Let me finish my work."
Sputtering with rage, the captain leapt down from the deck to the median plank and then to the bottom. One hand was rising, possibly to strike at Hekate, but he was met by Kabeiros. The huge dog's snarling threat made him pause, and in that moment, Hekate drew his attention to what she had done.
"How?" he gasped. "How are you doing that?"
"It is a small spell that I use to ease dropsy," Hekate said, as she moved from one lashing to another. "It is no cure. I know no cure for the disease, but this spell draws out the water that gathers in a person with that sickness and for a few days relieves the pain."
"But that is a person," the captain muttered. "This is a dead part of a plant . . ."
Hekate shrugged. "It was the first thing that came to my mind, so I tried it. It it hadn't worked, I would have tried something else."
"You've saved us, then?"
"Not really." Hekate touched another lashing, muttered the spell. "Look at the first one I did. Already it's not as hard and dry as this that I've just bespelled. Likely it will take another three days to get as thick as this next lashing, but the curse is still working and I can't cast spells night and day."
"You mean even if we get to shore and save our lives, my ship is lost to me?" His voice trembled.
"Oh, no. A curse, even Medea's, seldom lasts more than a few days without being renewed. If you beach the boat so that only a few lashings are in the water, I can keep those dry until the curse wears off. Then the ship will be as good as new . . . at least, the lashings will be good as new. If some other damage has been done by their swelling, I wouldn't know that."
"Caulking," the captain muttered. He stared at Hekate's back, eyes narrowed, then said, "But this will delay me several days, mayhap even a ten-day. Not only will those waiting for cargo be dissatisfied and perhaps withhold payment, but all that time I will be feeding you and that monstrous dog. And he showed his teeth at me. A threat like that would be death for a man in my crew. I won't have a dangerous dog aboard my ship—"
"Captain," Hekate said, taking her hand from the lashing she was about to bespell and turning to face him; she looked older, more bent, her voice rough with fatigue, "my dog and I have a special bond. If he should be harmed, I would not wish to live and there would be no purpose to my expending my strength to dry your lashings. You will have us both, or I will go overboard with Kabeiros. Look!" She pointed behind the captain to a bare trickle of water coming between two planks. "Will you wager your life on finding a place to beach before the water comes in all over?"
He stared at the trickle of water, then at Kabeiros, who stood quietly beside Hekate. "What land?" he roared up at the lookout.
"Cliffs and forest," the lookout called back.
"It was probably you who brought this curse on us," he snarled resentfully.
"I doubt it, but it's possible." The crone leaned against the hull, cackled, and pointed; two more trickles crawled down the ship's side.
"The dog can stay," the captain gasped.
Hekate turned her back on him and touched another lashing. Water dribbled from it down the hull, through the open planking of the lowest deck and into the bilge. After a while, the captain called for two sailors to bail out the extra water that was accumulating. Hekate moved along the hull, touching and whispering. Kabeiros moved with her; soon she needed to brace a hand on his back for support.
Later the captain was called by the lookout and went up on deck to consider a cove where the ship might be pulled from the water. It was very rocky, however, and he bade his men sail on and keep looking. Had Hekate not been more than two thirds around the hull, it would have been a hard choice between the chance of striking a rock and the chance of the lashings swelling too far.
When he came down again, Hekate was sitting on a low keg, her head down on Kabeiros' shoulder. "What are you doing?" he yelled. "While you're cuddling that beast, the water is coming in."
She didn't answer at once. She had never been so depleted of power, blind and achingly empty. After a moment she whispered, "I have done what I can. I don't want to drown, but I can do no more. I must rest and eat."
"Eat? Eat? Passengers who pay fare eat."
Again Hekate had to gather strength before she could reply. "I understood Medea was to pay."
"I never saw Medea," the captain snarled.
"Very well," Hekate said. "When I have eaten and drunk and have strength enough, I will try to dry the rest of the lashings because I don't want to drown—unless you feel staying afloat is not worth the price of one meal. If so, I will just rest here until we sink. As to the dog, you need not worry about feeding him. He's hunted for himself every night and will continue to do so. If you make shore, and you feel you don't need my services, I will leave—and you can deal with whatever other little toys Medea has left aboard on your own."
The sailors who had been bailing had stopped and were listening to the conversation. One of them took a half-full pail, raised it to the median plank, and climbed up after it. A few minutes later, a big man about the captain's age let himself down to the lower deck. He carried a leather mug in one hand and a cloth-wrapped package in the other.
"What are you doing here, steersman?" the captain asked.
"Making sure your greed don't sink this ship," the steersman answered without expression.
Ignoring the captain's order to get back to his steering oar, the steersman shoved another keg within Hekate's reach. On that he placed the mug and opened the cloth, in which was wrapped a wedge of cheese, a handful of olives, and a round of hard bread. She tried to take the mug, but her hands would not grip it, and the steersman lifted it, supported her head, and let her drink. When she had swallowed about half the sweet wine, she pulled away and he put down the mug. She reached for the cheese, bit, chewed, took an olive. At first she had to eat slowly and the steersman looked around at the hull.
It was apparent what Hekate had done, for where she had not drained out the lashings, they were swollen enough by now to interfere with the proper mating of the planks. The water coming in was already more than a trickle, but not yet so much that the men bailing could not hold their own. If the boards opened more, they might not be able to keep up; worse, the distortion the swollen lashings caused might damage the whole hull.
"Lady," the steersman said, "I can see you are exhausted and have done much already, but all your work will be for nothing if you cannot finish. The bad will destroy the good."
"I know," Hekate whispered, but continued to eat.
"I can hold you up," the steersman said. "Will that help?"
"In a moment," she said.
The captain had been silent, staring at the leaking hull. When Hekate had finished the olives and cheese and was dipping the bread into the remains of the wine to soften it, he said, "Send another man down to support the old witch, if you don't think she's shamming. You are needed at the steering oar. A beach may be found at any time."
Without even turning his head, the steersman watched Hekate. As soon as she had finished the bread and emptied the mug, he lifted her to her feet, and when she sagged against him, carried her to the ship's side. The captain watched with an expression that boded the steersman no good, but he said no more and climbed up to the median plank and then to the deck.
Hekate didn't notice. She was concentrating on drawing off just a touch of the steersman's strength, not enough to do more than make him feel a little tired. He had no Talent, it was life-force itself that she was taking, not to increase her power but to give her physical strength. That, together with the food and wine, made her able to begin again. Almost it was not enough to finish, and for the last few lashings she had to draw from Kabeiros, who sank to his belly on the wet floor.
She dried the last lashing with darkness closing in on her. Later she became dimly aware of shouts and the sound of feet pounding above her. She thought she should get up and go on deck if the ship were sinking, but hadn't the strength. And Kabeiros lay limp beside her. She couldn't go without him. Maybe some of the barrels would float, she thought. Surely the cold of the water coming in would wake her.
What woke her, however, was the captain's voice. "Well! Well! I'm glad to see you made yourself so comfortable. Even paying passengers are not allowed to use the cargo for their own comfort. You'll have to pay extra for that!"
Hekate sat up slowly and looked around. Kabeiros sat beside her warily eyeing the captain. She was very hungry again, but mostly restored. Someone had laid her down at the edge of the underdeck, and it was true that bales of cloth had been moved to make her a bed. She remembered her last thought, but clearly the excitement she had heard had not been the ship sinking. A glance at the hull showed it to be dry as far as she could see, and the sailors who had been bailing were gone. The ship was not rocking as it did while at sea. They had found a beach in time, it seemed.
"I can't pay at all," she said clearly, hoping her voice would carry. "I have very little metal, only a few copper pieces." That was a flat lie; Hekate had brought a great deal of gold and silver—all she had earned while at Colchis. However, she was sure if she admitted to being able to pay, the captain would try to have her throat slit to steal the money. "What I brought was my herbs and simples, some potions and powders. I will be able to treat most sicknesses and wounds, and I will gladly do that for you and the crew to pay for my passage."
"Nonsense. You must have some trade metal. How could you start on a long journey without the means to pay for food and lodging?"
"I had little choice," Hekate replied dryly. "Don't you remember that Medea summoned me from my work in the market and bid me go? She gave me no time to go to my lodging for what I had saved. I had barely time enough to gather up the supplies I had at my stall."
"Well, no one here will give you anything. Doubtless it's your fault our ship was cursed. You'll get nothing from me or my men. Take your filthy dog and go. Whatever you brought aboard is forfeit for the evil you've brought on us."
Slowly, Hekate rose. "I'll go, but I will take what is mine with me." She nodded at Kabeiros, who had come from the dark part of the underdeck dragging her three bundles by their ties. "I nearly died to save your ship. That's enough service to pay for three days aboard her."
"You'll starve on the road," the captain sneered.
"Oh, no," Hekate answered calmly, lifting one pack to her shoulder and taking the other two in hand. "Kabeiros will hunt and I will gather while we're in the wilderness. When we find a house or a village, I'll be welcome. There are few places in which a healer is not eagerly greeted."
"You'll starve, and I'll be glad of it, old witch, for you'll do no healing. I'll take what you have in those packs." The captain drew a knife.
Hekate dropped one pack to the ground and laughed aloud as the captain drew it to him and undid the bindings. Out of the pack crawled a serpent, which struck at the captain's reaching hand and then at his bare feet. He screamed and leapt up to the median plank, but somehow the serpent was there with him and he ran for the upper deck. Hekate redid the bindings on the bundle, listening to his screams diminish as he went down the ladder from the deck to the beach.
She had to stand on a cask to reach the median plank and lifted herself to the deck with some difficulty. The form of the crone did not lend itself to gymnastics. As she walked toward the ladder, she could hear the captain still screaming about the serpent and the shouts of the crew as they tried to keep him from running off into the forest that edged the beach.
Thanking the Mother for their preoccupation, Hekate climbed down the ladder. Kabeiros, unbalanced by the bundle fastened to his harness, slipped and slid behind her, feet scrabbling for a hold on the narrow treads. Unburdened and with a man's intelligence, he had learned how to climb the ladder without difficulty, but he had no way to grip the treads and the pack pulled him backward. Twice he would have fallen if Hekate had not been there to brace his body. She was bruised and gasping when they were at last on solid ground.
"There is no serpent!" the steersman was shouting, and then he saw Hekate and advanced on her threateningly. "What did you do to him, witch?" he bellowed.
"Nothing," Hekate said, shaking her head. "I did nothing. He came aboard and demanded trade metal. I told him the truth, that I had only the few copper pieces I had with me in the market because Medea had not given me time to go to my lodging and gather my possessions. I said there was only herbs and suchlike in my packs. Then he ordered me off the ship to make my own way and said he would keep my packs. He seized one and opened it, then screamed there was a serpent and ran away."
"You said you were a healer. Did you have a serpent in the pack?"
Hekate laughed. "Do you see a serpent?" She dropped the bundles to the ground and said, "Open them and look."
"You open them."
Obligingly, Hekate opened the packs. One held bundles of herbs, folded stalks and stems—which a madman might see as a serpent—and a box full of black seeds, nut hulls, and dried somethings which gave off a noxious smell. The second had more herbs in which were nestled small stoppered and sealed flasks and pots. The third contained a worn gown, two shifts, thin and gray with washing, a much-mended shawl wrapped around a box of cheap trinkets.
"What are those?" the steersman asked suspiciously.
"Toys for the children. If they drink down the potion they need for healing, they can have a toy."
The crew, which had been casting uneasy looks at her in between restraining the captain, now advanced on him right through the empty space to which he pointed, screaming, "Snake. Snake." They took away his knife, wrestled him to the ground, and bound him.
Gesturing to Hekate to do up her bundles again, the steersman advanced on the captain. "Where is the snake?" he asked.
"There. There. There," the captain screeched. "Near my feet. It is striking at my feet."
"Has it bitten you yet?" the steersman asked.
"No, or I would be dead."
"Isn't it strange that it should strike but never bite when you cannot move away? There is no serpent, Captain. No one sees it except you."
"It came out of her bundle, I tell you. See. See. It still weaves back and forth. It will kill me."
"It hasn't so far and we have opened all her bundles. There are no snakes in them, nothing but what she said was there, herbs and suchlike. What were you looking for?"
"Gold," the captain gasped, twitching his feet from side to side. "I know she has gold. An old woman like that doesn't go on a long journey without metal to supply her needs. A young one could sell her body, but who would even buy a drink to have so ancient a crone? But she wouldn't pay, not even for her fare, not even when I told her she must go alone into the wilderness."
"Go? But she's not finished with the ship!" the steersman exclaimed. "The roots by the prow that are in the water are still swelling. She must dry them."
"The curse will wear off. She admitted that herself."
"But will the roots go back to being dry after the curse wears off?"
"The serpent is there on your feet! Man, it will bite you. Jump away. Run."
The captain's eyes followed something that crawled back and forth over the steersman's feet, but no one else could see it and the steersman clearly couldn't feel it. Those crew members who could see the captain's face whispered among themselves and to the crewmen who were watching Hekate.
All of them were sure she had caused the captain's condition, but none—not even the steersman—was willing to confront her. Worse might befall them than the harmless vision bedevilling the captain. What if they began to see other crew members as monsters and attacked each other? And what of the ship? What if the curse did not wear off?
Hekate had quietly repacked her bundles and lifted one to each shoulder, the third to Kabeiros' back. She never looked at the captain or any other member of the crew, but started to walk slowly toward the forest bordering the beach. The steersman ran after her.
"Mother," he said, his voice pleading, "it seems that the captain's greed has addled his brain. You can't go off into the wild all alone. Stay with us."
"I think the danger of being alone in the wild is less than the danger that your mad captain will order me thrown overboard when a new fit seizes him."
"But the ship is not healed. Will the lashings return to normal when the curse wears off?"
"I have no idea," Hekate admitted. "I didn't set the curse on the ship. I don't even know how such a thing is done. I'm an herb-wife and I know some small healing spells and that's all."
"Mother, if the lashings do not heal by themselves, we will be castaways on this beach. Please stay, at least until the next port, which is not far. I will make sure no harm comes to you, that you go ashore with everything you brought aboard, and that you are fed—and the dog too."
Hekate put down her bundles. Kabeiros sat down beside her, panting. The steersman offered further inducements, further guarantees of her safety. Eventually she shrugged and looked at the semicircle of men watching and listening.
"The rest of the crew must agree also," she said. "With the captain's approval, you could be overwhelmed by the others and your promises made worthless."
There was no problem about the crew agreeing. They were all nodding as she spoke. Each man then came separately, and allowed her to touch him in binding, swearing on his gods, and, more important, on the mercy of the sea that Hekate and Kabeiros would be kept safe, fed, cherished, no matter what the captain ordered. But then they gathered and begged her to remove the curse that was driving their captain mad.
Hekate shook her head. "Whatever you all believe, I didn't curse the man and I can't remove the curse, just as I can heal the lashings but I cannot remove the curse from them. I have nothing to do with curses."
"Then what ails the captain?" the steersman asked.
"I don't know. Perhaps he knew he was wrong to try to rob me after I had worked so hard to keep us all alive. Then when he saw the herb stalks in my bundle, he thought it was a snake. But madness is beyond my skill to cure. The best I can do is offer a potion to make the captain sleep. Perhaps when he wakes, the serpent will be gone."
At first the captain would not agree and screamed that the serpent would bite him while he slept and, when the crew insisted there was no serpent, that Hekate had bewitched him so she could poison him. Hekate offered to drink some of the potion herself and after she did, the steersman forced it down the captain's throat and had him carried aboard. Of course, the serpent was not gone, when the captain woke—Hekate saw to that.
With the captain out of the way, her relations with the crew improved over the five days it took her to unravel Medea's spell. She healed small sores, removed deep driven splinters, soothed uneasy guts. Making the crew less fearful of her was important because she didn't want hysteria to sweep over them at sea and end with her overboard. And, despite her apparent reluctance, Hekate was as eager to stay with the ship as the crew were to keep her.
She didn't fear the wilderness, but her packs were heavy, each having a substantial sum in gold and silver hidden by illusion in it. No matter that the chunks and twists of metal looked like nut hulls, seeds, stinking black dried dung, or pots of salve, the weight of the metal was there, and Hekate didn't want to carry it. The spell Medea had put on the ship intrigued her, too. Surely the princess of Colchis had not discovered how to revive the dead?
The answer was not so earth-shaking. In fact, it was so simple she almost overlooked it—a basic piece of sympathetic magic. Medea had someone bring her some of the root fiber used for lashing together the planks of a ship and cast a spell for drinking in water on it. Then most likely she had sent one of her tame sorcerers aboard the Sea Foam, perhaps disguised as one of the crew, with the enchanted root in hand. He would only need to go around touching all the roots in the hull, transferring the magic from the seed root to those on the ship.
More intriguing to Hekate was the renewal spell Medea had woven into the simple water-drinking spell. The vindictive princess had, in fact, made sure the "curse" would never have worn off. The renewal spell drew power from high or low magic and fed itself and fed any spell to which it was connected.
It took Hekate most of the five days she insisted the Sea Foam remain on the beach—ostensibly to let the curse wear off—to tease the two spells apart, but the renewal spell was well worth having. Hekate had known a way to make an illusion spell that drew from the earth-blood to feed itself, but that spell needed to be on the earth and could not be moved. Now she had a way to make any spell she devised "immortal."