Donjeta and the Pirates

The wind gave such a boost of speed, those last miles, we shot right up on the beach. The crew lurched forward, and the ship stopped hard. Then over the side, the men leapt to the sand.

"Praise Poseidon! Praise Zeus! Tonight we make an offering."

Several dropped to their knees, grabbing handfuls of sand and letting it spill through their fingers. They looked with rapt eyes at the firm earth beyond.

Captain Miltiades released his tight grip on the railing. He smiled at me.

"Have you any idea where we are, Captain?"

"Not a clue. To town, and let's find out."

He joined the men and leapt from the ship. I followed.

The high walled town sat atop a bluff with a twisty path running down its face. A crowd of strong men came forth and began the descent. They carried spears. We waited for them on the beach.

"Stay together men. Don't wander off. Together we will greet our new hosts."

Several fishermen tended to their boats maybe fifty yards away. They watched us cautiously. The captain called to them, but they didn't respond.

The men from the town arrived, perhaps twenty-five in all, but well-armed and fresh compared to our weathered crew. They puffed out their chests and brandished their spears. One, the biggest and most stern, walked forth.

"Who are you? We'd have your names?"

The captain stood forward.

"We are free men, Greeks, sailors from Argos seeking adventure. We've been lost at sea for months, and in truth we don't know where we are. My friends, what island is this, and what's name of that town?"

"This isle is Cythera and the town Capsali, but you'll find no welcome here, not you adventurers. We've had our fill of rovers from the sea, laying waste to our town, taking our livestock, and our wives, to sate their hunger. Back to your ship! Back to the wide sea! I, Nereus, have spoken."

Our men were stunned by his words.

"Oh Nereus, you'll bring the curse of Zeus on yourself! Did you not hear me? We've been months lost, desperate, sailing on uncharted seas. We land here, our first sight of men, good men who eat bread and live in towns. And this? Driven away? Are you that cruel?"

Nereus stood tall and glowered. He took a step forward. I slipped to the captain's side and whispered in his ear.

"Captain, we still have plenty of supplies from the cyclops's island. We don't need anything from these men. Let's sail on, for surely other islands are near."

Nereus noticed me. I'd been hidden behind the captain.

"Oh, but who is this? She's a lovely one. Perhaps a deal can be struck. Is she for sale? A prize captured in some raid? She changes everything."

"Donjeta, go back to the ship."

"Don't send her away, such weary men. Our town has a public house you could use, and we have a barrel of wine, well aged. I'll crack it for you to drink. Think of our town like your second home, my guests, but first -- let's talk about this girl."

The captain gently pushed me back. Nereus advanced grinning, holding his spear.

Then without warning the captain was on him. He ducked under Nereus's spear and grabbed the man's waist, bringing his weight to bear. The two went down in the sand, the spear flying away. They wrestled and the captain got the better of it fast. He straddled the townsman. His open hands buffeted the man's head. Nereus curled and and kicked about. He covered his head, taking the blows on his arms. The other townsmen were stunned, but just for a bit. They began to mill around shouting.

The crew stepped forward, reaching for their knives. A few ran to the ship to get spears. The groups faced off, apart by inches, faces stern.

Nereus made a gurgling sound and his arms went limp. The captain smacked him a few more times and sat up looking at the man's bloody form.

There was shouting. Spears were brandished. Men got face to face, spitting and yelling in rage. No one paid much attention to me, and surprise is a wonderful thing. I pulled my knife and began the killing.

I spun among them, turning this way and that, shifting like dust in a desert wind. They went down by twos and threes. Then, the melee erupted, and the crew laid into them. Chaos and pain. Blood and horrid death. It went fast and our crew proved the better men. The townsmen threw down their spears and ran full tilt back to their safe walls. They left fourteen bodies behind, seven by my knife.

We lost eight of ours, four dead, the rest hurt bad. The captain stood over Nereus. He hadn't much more than risen before the fighting was done. He looked at me, his eyes wide.

"Donjeta?"

I walked to him and slit Nereus's throat.

"I'll kill any man who tries to make me a slave."

Back at sea, Cythera a mere speck behind us.

"Donjeta."

"Yes?"

"How many men did you kill?"

"Six, maybe seven."

"Of a total of fourteen."

"Yeah."

I noticed a gull following our ship. The captain came and stood next to me, holding the rail.

"You said you were a Thracian girl."

"Yes."

"Donjeta, Thracian girls don't fight like that."

I didn't say anything. We watched the gull.

"We'll take you home, Donjeta, to Thrace. Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

It was. Thrace wasn't my home, but it was on the way, and I could find allies there. I knew names to ask for in Thracian towns, women who prayed to our goddess and kept my aunts and sisters -- and me -- in their hearts.

"We're out to make our fortune, but there are plenty of isles between here and there. We don't care where we rove. Any place is as good as the next. Does that sound good to you?"

"Yes."

"Donjeta."

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"To your oars! Pull steady men! Now, hard right!"

A deep hulled Phoenician ship was a half-mile to our right between us and a rolling bank of fog. It looked to be a cargo vessel, weakly manned with twenty oars. A misty island was further off, a Greek isle -- we guessed -- but still safety to traders coming in peace.

"We have to reach them before that harbor."

The captain hopped up on the deck. The cargo ship still presented sail on its tall mast, but the wind was wrong for them. Their crew scrambled to furl the sail and unstep the mast. Then, to their oars, but we'd drawn close, three-hundred yards at most. They turned and rowed off angle, not toward the island at all.

"What are they doing, Captain?" a sailor shouted out.

"Stay to it men. Keep following."

They rowed toward the fog and were getting close, but we were getting closer. We would catch them soon. Two-hundred yards. I could hear the shouting of their boatswain to the rhythm of their oars. One-hundred yards, we were closing fast. Their captain stood on the rear deck looking back at us, a fat man with rich clothes.

"Oh the gods be praised!" a crewman shouted out.

The captain glanced at me.

"You can go below, Donjeta, if you want. This isn't your fight."

I reached to my waist and checked my knife.

"Or -- do you want an equal share of the prize? Are you ready for a little piracy, my dear?"

Shouting broke out among our crew.

"Two ships! Coming fast!"

Two black-hulled ships came out of the fog, their masts stepped, their oars sweeping the sea, ships of war fully manned with fifty oars each, two-hundred yards away.

"It's a trap! Turn about! Turn hard, for your lives! Starboard back-row, port fore!"

The war-cries from the rushing ships carried over the water, hooting and hollering in some strange southern tongue.

"Phoenician pirates! This is far from their normal haunts. Oh, and a clever trap they set for us, with that cargo ship. Row! Turn the ship around."

Our ship turned, and I looked back at the coming onslaught. We got moving, and the race began.

"Can we outrun them?"

"They have more oars."

He was right. They were gaining.

"To the island men!"

Our men strained to a quick beat, but they'd closed to one-hundred yards. We didn't have a chance.

"Can we fight them?"

"Two ships, one-hundred men at least, not a chance."

"What if it were only one ship?"

"What do you mean, Donjeta?"

Fifty yards. I could see their faces, the men on the foredeck bristling with spears.

Thirty yards. One of our crewmen broke down, pitching his oar and wailing to Zeus.

"Captain Miltiades."

"What Donjeta?"

"I'm glad I met you. You were really nice to me."

"Yeah, I'm glad I met you too. Donjeta, surrender to them right away. They'll kill us, I think. We'd make cheap slaves, hardly worth taking back to port, but they'll take you. Let them make you a slave. Let some rich man buy you. It won't be so bad, I think. Not all rich men are cruel."

Ten yards, the closer ship drew right behind us. The other pulled up to our right.

I ran. I ran all the way to the front of the ship, along the plank laid between the rowers. Then I turned and ran back the full length. With one hop I was on the rear deck. With two long bounds and a foot on the rail, I leapt -- clear to the pursuing ship.

I crashed like a meteor into their clustered men -- had they expected me, they might have set a spear. My knife came out, and in a sudden swish of motion I began to cut them down. Through the men on the foredeck, at least three with severed throats, I was among the rowers. Down the line I went, cutting at eyes and wrists. I took no time to finish them. Wounds were good enough. I danced and hopped, cutting this way and that. They grabbed at me, and one caught hold. I killed him, but it slowed me down. It wouldn't be long now, but they weren't rowing, their oar-deck in disarray. With a quick glance I saw Miltiades's ship pull away, the one ship still behind him, but now the odds were halved.

They got hold of me, four men at least, and cast me to the bottom of the ship. My back slammed against a spar, and pain shot through me. My knife slipped from my grasp. I looked and saw fierce eyes. Then, a foot slammed down on my head. I saw only red. Another stomp, then black.

I'm sorry sweet Pallas, my dearest love. I didn't make it home...

... but I lived.

I woke shackled and stuffed in the hold under the rear deck of the ship. I heard the men arguing in their strange language. About me? Soon I was dragged out. We were alone in the empty sea. The captain was tall and dark, as dark as me. He had wavy hair that hung below his neck and wore jeweled earrings. His body was lean and strong; he moved like a cat. He spoke to me in Greek.

"Who are you girl? You don't look like a Greek, but you sailed with them."

"Did our ship escape?"

"Never mind that! Your life is in danger. The crew wants you dead in exchange for the wounds you gave them. I think you can fetch a fine price -- get some value from this trip. So, who are you? Can you be a slave?"

I looked at the crew, at their hard faces and fierce eyes. Many were bandaged; one was blind. Some were absent, their gashed bodies no doubt cast into the sea. Then at the captain. He leered at me with a slight grin.

"I'm nobody, a slave girl from Thrace. I sailed with the Greeks servicing their captain, nothing more."

"Ha! Do you take me for a fool? You're no slave, to fight like that. Although, I might make you one, if I can beat the spirit out of you. No, you're one of Hippolyta's spawn, or that other one, Penthesilia. You're one of those accursed Amazons!"

I wanted to live so bad, but if I had to die, I should die well.

"Yes, Captain, but not Hippolyta or Penthesilia. I am Donjeta, daughter of Antiope, and you'll never make me a slave. But don't throw me to you crew. If you're gonna do it, do it yourself and make it fast."

"Ha! Well, my crew is howling for your blood. I think if I don't give you over I'll have a mutiny on my hands, and we can't have that. What to do, what to do? Ah!"

He shouted out an order. I was grabbed by strong hands and my tunic stripped away. They dragged me to the center of the ship, to the stepped mast, and hung me there, my shackles suspended from a nail.

"So Donjeta, here's the way it is. I shall give each man ten lashes on you, as hard as he wants, whenever he wants between now and port. If you die, well the gods have decided. We'll throw you into the sea. If you live -- well -- I'll give you to the Priestess of Astarte, and let her decide what to do with you."

And so it was. The lashings began right away. The men were very eager to hurt me.

"I have to admit, Donjeta, I'm impressed."

I lay on the rear deck, face down and my back a raw, bloody mess. Captain Aridai -- that's the name he gave me -- knelt next to me rubbing on a salve.

"Now, don't twitch Donjeta. I know it hurts, but this will help you heal. No, we're all very impressed. I think even the crew."

He was right. I'd sensed it, after maybe the twentieth man. The beatings became less harsh. I could see the look in their eyes, hoping that maybe I'd live.

"It'll make quite a tale. The little Amazon princess we couldn't beat to death."

He finished rubbing the salve, and closed the jar. He moved over, sitting on the deck and leaning against the rail.

"Captain."

"Yes, Donjeta?"

"The ship, my friends, did they escape?"

"Well, the truth is I don't know. After we got back under way, after what you did, the mist had overtaken us and we couldn't find the ships, neither yours nor ours. So, anything could have happened."

"Oh."

"I hope I find them when we reach port. Well, I hope to find ours."

"Where are we going?"

"Lindos, on Thrace."

"Isn't that a Greek island?"

"Yes, but many Phoenicians live in Lindos. It's an important port."

"Ah. Do they know you're pirates?"

"Ha! But Donjeta, we're not pirates. You're pirates."

I thought for a bit.

"You lured us -- in Greek seas."

"Indeed. But no, we are men employed by Hasdrubal of Sidon, a wealthy merchant and a hater of pirates. He pays us to hunt your sort down, and keep the seas open between Greece and his home."

"Ah."