Prologue Off the coast of Alexandria, Egypt c. 15 BC The end is in the beginning Crash! Leviathan lurched onto her starboard side and failed to right herself as waves creamed over the deck, poured into the cockpit and soaked the crew. Two sailors wrestled with the tiller. A third, Ishmael, was almost washed into the sea. Crack! The storm-sail split in the wind. The ship became unsteerable, her mast dipping low. She was being forced by the wind and waves onto a lee shore. ‘Throw everything you can overboard!’ ordered the captain. But it was too late. Most of the cargo was Egyptian granite. It was that which had snapped its lashings and shifted in the hold, causing the ship to list. ‘This is all your doing! You know that, Master Joseph. I should never have listened to you, allowing you to override my judgement!’ shouted the captain. His words were whipped away by the wind, but Joseph knew what he was saying. They could barely keep their footing on the water-washed deck. With each wave the ship listed more steeply. ‘We should throw him overboard!’ snarled Ishmael. ‘It’s all his fault. If he wasn’t in such a hurry, we’d be safe in Alex.’ Suddenly Leviathan juddered as her stern ran aground, sticking fast in sand. The rudder twisted, hurling the helmsmen against the cockpit’s edge, snapping various ribs and mangling an arm. ‘I’ll go overboard!’ shouted Joseph. ‘Maybe the Lord will have mercy on you once I’m gone.’ He unsheathed his knife to cut his tether, but fumbled in the wet. ‘Look! Another vessel!’ shouted Ishmael. ‘It’s an Egyptian galley.’ Indeed it was, appearing through the spray. With her shallower draft she could venture further towards the shore and her oars, combined with sails, made her more manoeuvrable than Leviathan. The galley positioned herself downwind of them, using her port-side oars to hold position and shipping some of her starboard ones. Her crew threw a scrambling net from the deck, trailing it into the sea. The galley’s helmsman struggled to keep her steady, as her crew gestured to the men on the stricken vessel to jump and swim. Most of them couldn’t swim, but fear furnished the skill. The captain cut the ropes holding the injured helmsmen. Timing his jump, he grabbed the more disabled man and struck out for the net. He reached it with one hand, but got knocked back by the swell. Coughing and struggling, and with an almost superhuman effort, he got the man onto the net. Sailors hauled him aboard. The captain returned for the other injured man. Joseph cut the remaining sailors’ tethering lines and almost bodily threw them overboard. He counted, seven, eight … Where were the other two? Perhaps they were below and couldn’t get the hatch open, now it was submerged. He plunged forward through the chest-high water, felt down for the hatch and wrenched it open. The sea poured in but the men’s heads appeared. The first out stared at Joseph angrily. Despite the danger, he was determined to have his say. ‘You’ll kill us all you stupid, ignorant, arrogant boy! How dare you pull rank on the skipper? I’ve sailed all over with him and he’s always kept his crew safe. The first time you’re here without your father you insist on sailing out into a storm just to get to Joppa first. Impress Papa, get the best prices. Well he won’t be impressed now will he?’ A wave soaked them but he hadn’t finished. ‘This was going to be my last trip. I’ve a bit put by. My second grandchild’s on the way. We’ve got a smallholding in the Judean hills. We’d have managed. Your arrogance could have made widows of all our wives.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘No use in saying sorry. You can’t make it better, can you? You can’t master the sea, you don’t rule the waves.’ The ship groaned as it settled into the sand, then shuddered as its back started to break. Joseph helped the two men across the deck and they flung themselves into the boiling foam between the ships. He saw them reach the net and be helped aboard. He clung to the half-submerged deck-rail. The buffeting, wet and cold had exhausted him. He was aware of the galley crew’s frantic gesturing. Should he go down with the ship? An image of his mother entered his mind. She would be distraught if he drowned. She had been so anxious about him going alone for the first time. His father had reassured her that the captain had never lost a ship, nor lost a man to an avoidable accident; a remarkable feat. Now he, Joseph, had thrown away not just a valuable cargo of granite but Leviathan, pride of his father’s fleet. He thought the men were safe. In despair he prayed aloud, ‘Please Lord, don’t let my pride cause any of these men to be drowned. Find them a safe harbour. May no blame attach to the captain. Forgive my pride. If I can ever make amends please spare my life to allow me to do so. I’ll always thank you and I’ll pay what I’ve promised. Deliverance belongs to the Lord!’ A wave picked him up and flung him off the deck. He thrashed in the water, attempting to reach the galley. His sodden clothes weighed him down and the swell sucked him away. He sank. It was over. A hand grabbed his chin from behind, lifting his head clear. Joseph gasped for breath. He couldn’t see who held him, but he was a strong swimmer. Making headway, his rescuer grabbed the net and bodily boosted Joseph up it, into the arms of the crew. He collapsed exhausted onto the deck of the galley. Vaguely he heard shouted orders and the vessel got under way, running before the wind, heading for the port of Alexandria. Leviathan’s deck was barely visible above the waves. The lookout strained to catch a first glimpse of the beam from the world-famous lighthouse, which would guide them safely home. Later, Joseph sat up and saw his rescuer squatting on his haunches gazing at him. He was a huge, muscular Nubian, around twenty years of age. He had an amulet around his neck of the Nubian god Apedemak, a man with a lion’s head. He wore an oiled leather jacket, trousers and boots. ‘You saved my life. How can I thank you? My name is Joseph Bar-Janni. My father owned that ship.’ ‘I am Shabaka. I was once a nobleman in my own land but now I am a slave of this galley’s owner.’ ‘I will buy your freedom for you, if it costs my entire inheritance. Then you may then stay with us or we will pay your passage back to your home.’
Posted on: Sat, 06 Jul 2013 10:46:53 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015