It was the dead of the night when I awoke. Everyone was asleep including the night watch. The moon had set and no sign of dawn showed in the east. The stars in the heavens showed thru in patches of a somewhat overcast sky. It was very dark, and very quiet. The sail was completely limp, and yet the movement of water along the hull was perceptible. Also perceptible to me was the familiar sound of the Neriedes, who I could tell were surrounding the hull and obviously guiding the ship. This was obvious to no one else however, as not a man was stirring. In front of us I could not see, but I could feel the loom of the land. I could also feel the nearby presence of Calypso, and I found myself feeling strangely optimistic about the coming day.
Soon enough however, others began to stir. The Neriedes vanished just as stealthily as they had arrived, and the sail drew just the faintest breath of air. The great man with the beard awoke to find his crew asleep and all hell broke loose. The two crew members responsible for the night watch were reprimanded quite severely, beaten as well as berated before the slaves. The slaves fared no better, being whipped into activity as the first signs of a lightening could be seen in the east. The sail came down and the oars were ordered out. We were driven hard by men in charge, grunting the rhythmic all praise be to Oceanus phrase repeatedly through our labored breath. As the sky began to ignite into dawn, a faraway sound became audible over the oars; the sound of surf in shallow water.
As morning advanced the men in charge announced the sight of land and a protective reef. We were ordered to steer through a gap in the reef, towards a long narrow bay with a village at the very end of it. The moment of truth came and went as the galea shot through the gap in the crashing surf, and now the water was green and placid all around. The forested land rose up on either side, growing ever higher and closer, as the long bay lured us into its pincer shaped grasp. After so many days at open sea, the land felt like it would smother our boat as it loomed well above our rails.
Smoke could be seen in the village ahead and the men in charge set a course for a sandy beach on one side of it. The sun was now rising well into the sky. The turbaned and robed crew of our galea consisted of 19 men, and the slaves at the oars numbered nearly 100. Of the slaves, another 25 were chosen to join in the raid, presumably based on seniority or loyalty or perhaps fighting qualities. The raiding party carried all manner of wooden implements; some designed to bludgeon, and some to thrust. The sight of them brought back bad memories of the day in my village long ago. As the raiders gathered in the bow, the rest of us were flogged mercilessly as we were ordered to drive the craft upon the shore at the greatest possible speed.
The moment of truth arrived as the hull came into contact with the shoaling sand and we ground to a sudden halt. The raiders were away over the front of the craft, leaving behind the two members of the crew who fell asleep during their watch, and the rows of exhausted slaves. The last act we were ordered to perform required that a few of the slaves be freed from their shackles. Most of the oars were brought inboard, but a few were lifted nearly vertically and driven into the sand to stabilize the craft in the slack water. These oars were fastened in place with rope and effort, and the craft was thus stabilized for when the tide should fall. The slaves were returned to their shackles, and we had nothing more to do but wait.
From my seated position through my oar port I was now free to watch the men running in a clump towards the nearest huts in the village. Those of us on the village side relayed the action to those on the other side. The remaining crew members seemed not to care as they were wholly taken up with watching the raid as well. As the raiders were within fifty yards of the village warnings began to sound. The leading men reached the first hut and the first scream pierced the morning air. Now raiders were at other huts. There was yelling from a few defending men now, and screaming from the women mingled with the cries of children, all set against the exultant roaring of the raiders. Villagers were fleeing their huts now, running from the direction of the attack. A group of raiders had circled around the back of the village, thus preventing most from escaping into the forest behind. The far side of the village ended at a rather broad but slow moving river mouth. Presumably an excellent source of fresh water at most times, it now served as a mostly effective barrier of escape.
Now the attack was into its second phase. The women and children were being funneled towards the coast and no men were visible, save the raiders. Almost all of the raiders were working in harmony, selecting and grouping those women and girls of the best health and discussing how to bind them together. A few raiders however were busying themselves in one or another of the huts, raiding for objects of value or satisfying other needs as a few isolated screams and sobs testified. Last minute arguments were taking place as a few of the women were debated between the two groups, and some of the children were crying at being separated from their parents. The raiders dealt with most of this with rather harsh blows however, and it appeared as though a group of as many as fifty or more women and girls were being prepared to return to the ship.
Out of the corner of my vision I noticed a movement in the forest. Between the village and the boat there were figures crouching on the very edge where the thick growth met the beach. Were there twenty? No thirty. More? Suddenly a harsh cry erupted and as many as forty hunters emerged from the forest running in a perfect angling line towards the village. Unlike the villagers, these men were armed. There was something strange about the way they ran however. The raiders saw the hunters approaching and gathered their forces. A few of the rowers were tasked with corralling the new prisoners while the rest advanced towards the oncoming threat. The last of the raiders that had been looting the huts joined the line as the two forces approached. It looked as though it would be a very even battle, with almost identical numbers on either side.
The hunters repeated their harsh cry, and the raiders their yell as the two lines came together. Something about the hunters must have caught the raiders by surprise however, because several raiders pulled up in confusion at the moment of meeting. We couldnt tell who was winning for a moment or two, but soon it became apparent that the hunters had some advantage. They were using what looked like what my village called doru (spears), but rather than just using them to thrust, they were slicing with them as well. In my village people used smaller versions primarily to catch the ichthys. These hunters had longer spears and seemed to be able to injure their opponents while remaining out of reach. Soon, the battle became a rout with several raiders down, several more dropping, and the rest running. Much to our amazement the hunters chose not to chase. Instead they threw their doru at the retreating raiders. Several of them struck a target, bringing a raider to the ground.
Now the prisoners were turning on their guards, as the few surviving raiders tried to rejoin the few guards. The hunters were taking their time, methodically stabbing each raider several times with the points of their staffs, sometimes retrieving a doru from the back of a dead body. Now the raiders realized their predicament. They were trapped between the river and the shore, the hunters between them and the boat. The raiders made a furious charge to break through the line of hunters but they were chopped down to size in very short order. Now on the ground in the village there were the bodies of the raiders strewn about. Most were still, though a few still crawled or moaned. These were stabbed one by one until the village was silent while the rest of the hunters saw to the women and children and inspected their huts. Only perhaps four or five hunters had gone down in the battle. Truly their long doru and the skill with which they wielded them were formidable.
At this point the two remaining crew members ordered us to shove the boat off of the shore. This was not an easy task and required a great deal of manpower. Unsticking the oars that were supporting the ship would take at least ten men on each side. Perhaps another twenty would need to get out and push from the beach. As the pair released more and more slaves they reached the rows with me and my uncle. They were no longer untying the ropes that bound us, but simply cutting them as quickly as they could. Now free, we tried in earnest to get the craft back afloat but the tide had dropped quite a bit. One of the crew was urging the men ashore to push with all their might, while the rest of us combined all of our strength on the oars to leverage the craft backwards, but to no avail.
A quick look to the village showed that the hunters were now gathered and moving toward us. The crewmen were whipping us furiously and some of the slaves turned on them. There was a great commotion that ended with the crewmen dead. The slaves ashore simply ran down the beach away from the village as the hunters were almost to the ship. Those of us on the ship simply stood around not knowing what to do. A few decided to jump down, while my uncle and I were using the crewmens knives to free the rest of the slaves. A look down showed that the men who had jumped were now floating in the water, face down with the water turning red all around them. I was working frantically now trying to free the last of the slaves on my side, my uncle was working the other side. The slaves were getting frightened now as some of the hunters appeared climbing over the bow. A few slaves tried to fend them off, but we were unarmed, and a flying doru from the ground went through one of the slaves eyes and out the back of his skull. We watched as he spun around on the spot and fell to the ground writhing in death agony. This was enough to cause the rest of the slaves to retreat to the back of the boat, and just as I was cutting the last slave free the hunters were coming over the bows two or three at a time.
I now saw what the confusion had been about on shore. These hunters were not men at all
They were women! Some tall, some strong, some lithe; all with paint on their faces, short cropped hair, nothing but a cloth around their loins; each armed with a long sharp spear; and very menacing. Once ten or so of them were aboard they began to advance down the central gangway towards the mass of frightened slaves at the back. A quick glance to my right showed that those slaves who ran away down the beach had been caught as they ran, impaled with the flying doru. The hunting party that had killed them were retrieving their staffs and heading for us. Meanwhile slaves were dropping off of the rowing platforms and gangways down into the bottom of the ship as the hunters advanced. Several were being wounded and killed before they fell, or as they fought to get further back. I was trapped near the very back but there was not a lot of time left. The hunters continued to advance. Now there was only one man in front of me, now none. Perhaps this was the end.
One of the hunters thrust at me with her doru. I moved to one side avoiding the thrust, but she slashed it sideways and to my surprise it cut me deeply in my ribs. There was some sort of sharpened shiny stone blade on the end of it that made it a cutting as well as a stabbing weapon. When the hunter thrust again, I dodged again and this time I grabbed the staff and pulled it toward me with all of my might. In doing so, I caught the hunter off balance. She had been reaching from a rowing platform, and as I pulled she missed her footing and fell below, leaving me with the weapon. I now faced the hunters on equal terms. Only five slaves were left at the back of the boat; two were dead, two were down and bleeding, and me. One of the men still alive was my uncle. The briefest glance below the deck showed three or four of the hunters stabbing their way through the writhing masses and turning up their noses at the awful stench.
Two of the hunters could advance side by side down the gangway, a few more could balance and thrust with their spears from the aftermost rowing planks. I stood alone on the rear platform fending off any who tried to advance. One of the hunters leapt from the rowing plank towards my platform. I stabbed at her as she leapt and put my doru through her abdomen. The tip stuck in her guts and I lost it as she fell. The two on the gangway immediately advanced as I tried some fancy maneuver to avoid their doru thrusts. One staff struck me somewhere in my arm, the other in my thigh. This is when I became possessed. I charged insanely at both of the hunters who had struck me, advancing as both of the doru penetrated right through my flesh and out the other side. There was a chaos of kicking scratching biting yelling and punching wherein I advanced like a maniac. The two hunters nearest me could not retrieve their staffs that had gone through my arm and my leg, and they in turn served as a shield for the last two hunters, who could hardly get at me with the points of their doru Somehow, I managed to force all of them backwards. Three of them fell as I rushed forward, and I was left with one of them who had slipped on some blood and was now returning to her feet. I pulled the doru that had gone through my arm the rest of the way through. My injured arm no longer had feeling and I could not control it, but my other arm was fine, and I waved the staff at my enemy in defiance. At this moment there was a sharp cry and all of the hunters below stopped what they were doing. Several more hunters had come over the bow, presumably those from the beach, and one of them was issuing a series of harsh orders in a language that I realized I understood. Cease fighting.
As the new hunters advanced down the gangway the leader told me to drop my weapon if I wanted to live, that the battle was over. I was growling like an animal and holding my bloody doru. Looking down I realized I was standing in a puddle of my own blood. My arm was streaming, two of my ribs were bared, and my leg was bleeding pretty badly as well. Looking back at the leader I fell back against the side of the boat, my strength suddenly waning. Drop your weapon, the hunter ordered. I dropped it and the hunters advanced. Immediately a hunter lifted me at each of my armpits, raising me up, and the leader pulled the staff the rest of the way through my thigh. Amazingly, it didnt hurt at all. In fact nothing hurt right now. I watched as the leader wrapped a cloth around my leg and pulled it tight. Another cloth was pulled off of a dead slave and my arm was dressed in a similar fashion. I was then dragged to the front of the boat where I was obliged to jump to the beach below. This is where my injuries began to tell. Now neither my arm nor my leg would respond, and I could not conceive a way to get over the rail and somehow land on my feet. As it worked out I sort of tottered on the rail and just flopped over the side. I do not remember hitting the ground.
![[pissed]](/images/smilies/pissed.gif "Pissed [pissed]")
*
RP 
Ainos Tambien Fotismenos was assassinated. Leadership of the house is passed to Homer Tambien Fotismenos
