Chapter 23
The port of Nisaea, like any port in any century, was still lively after dark. It stood a mile or so below the villages and was almost a village in itself. Sailors, fishermen, tradesmen and the occasional farmer all congregated in the wine shops and taverns at night. Prostitutes sat in their windows, or had a man outside the house hawking their talents. Very few wandered the streets actually searching for trade. While slaves looking to make extra coin waited near the shops with torches to light the way home for those too inebriated to manage the task themselves.
Methos passed a clutch of young men bargaining with a pimp, sons of the wealthy out for a night of disreputable fun. He smiled to himself as he passed them, recalling his own youthful indiscretions. Never quite so young as his companions, but sometimes being taken at face value had its merits.
He went back to the largest and cleanest of the taverns where the wine, like the food, was of better quality - as were the patrons. Not really expecting to find a ship, though he saw quite a few new faces in the thin crowd that filled the low planked tables and benches, Methos found a place in the corner and signaled to the proprietor to send him a meal. A few minutes later a slave brought a plate of fish in a thick sauce and bread, placing a jug and a wine cup at his elbow.
He was just finishing when a commotion sounded near the door. Not trouble from the laughter surrounding the new arrival, but a welcome addition apparently. Methos looked up as the men called out their greetings.
"Hail Gyganes! That shrew of a daughter-in-law drove you out again tonight, eh?!"
The newcomer, a stout man of some years with a face so seamed with lines and wrinkles that he could have personified the term weather beaten nodded sadly.
"My friends," he told them. "It is a wonderful thing to have the wealth of five sons, but never let your eldest marry a harpy!"
Even Methos chuckled under his breath at that as a few nodded their agreement. He watched in surprise as the tavern owner himself served the old man, then said something quietly and pointed to Methos. Excusing himself from his friends, Gyganes took his plate and cup and came to sit at Methos' table.
"My friend says you are called Methos and are looking for passage to the islands," Gyganes stated.
Methos nodded, ignoring the abruptness of his words. The sea created a different kind of society. One less apt to be tolerant of the extreme politeness more commonly used. "My family and I are traveling south," he explained quietly. "Have you a ship?"
"I have five ships," Gyganes said proudly. "One for each son to sail for me."
A man of wealth indeed, Methos thought admiringly. It was not easy to extract riches from the sea and to have been so successful meant Gyganes was a man of some daring.
"Would one of those ships be headed where we are going?"
"And where exactly would that be?"
"To Crete, eventually."
"Crete," Gyganes echoed with a wistful sigh. "I have always wanted to go there. No reason. But it would be nice to die having seen the island of the Minotaur."
Methos hid his surprise. Whimsical ideas of traveling to far away places for the sake of adventure were not widely accepted yet. Not here anyway.
"If you had a ship I could pay you well for the voyage," Methos offered.
Gyganes laughed. "Now that would be something. To be paid for having a foolish dream."
"Why is it foolish?" he asked. "If you can make the journey why not do it?"
Gyganes sat back and stared at him. "I never thought of it that way. And an old man should have some say in the manner of his dying."
"Every man should," Methos agreed.
"Very true," he nodded. "But all my sons are on their ships and my eldest grandson, a fine young man, has only a small boat for the short trade with Athens."
Methos nodded slowly. The old man seemed willing if he could only be persuaded. "If you knew of a ship for sale I would buy it. Then," he added as Gyganes stared in amazement. "I would give it to you in payment for taking us there."
Methos watched as the numbers clicked inside Gyganes' head. A big ship with only passengers and their belongings going to Crete and an empty ship on the way back. Room enough in the hold to store all manner of trade goods that would fetch a fantastic price at towns along the coast. And when it was over his grandson would have his own ship and the family wealth would grow.
"You are very eager to go," the old man asked warily. "You have not offended the gods or committed some sin for which I might be punished by offering you passage?" Like most sailors, Gyganes was obviously superstitious.
"No sin or crime taints my family," Methos told him earnestly. "But we need to go."
"What will you do on Crete?"
It was not a fair question, but Methos liked Gyganes so he answered it. "Eventually, find a ship to Egypt."
The old man's mouth hung open. A whole family traveling to fabled lands was unheard of, but Gyganes had his own dreams and Methos was playing to them.
Finally, Gyganes nodded. "No one needs to go so far to escape the gods if they are guilty of sin. Why you go is not important. But I would like to see Crete - and escape the harpy for a season!"
Methos grinned. "Then you know of someone who wants to sell their ship?"
"No, but I know of a new ship made for an old friend who died last winter. The shipwright hasn't had any takers and isn't likely to until the harvest trade is over. I was waiting till then to offer for it, but the vessel is sea worthy. I'll fetch you in the morning and we will visit him together."
"Agreed," Methos nodded and told him where they lived. He stayed a little longer just to be sociable then excused himself, saying his family expected him. On the way out he remembered Samantha and stopped to purchase an extra meal. Maybe she'd be so excited at the thought of leaving she wouldn't need a happy little story in order to eat.
With another little basket under his arm Methos left, buying a small torch from one of the slaves. He walked the two and a half miles home in well under an hour, smiling broadly as he opened the door to find Jack, Teal'c and Daniel waiting up for him.
"You'll want to get Major Carter," he told them. "I have good news."
O'Neill shouted for her and Methos rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him as he found himself a stool. She came into the front of the house wiping sleep from her eyes.
"Yes, Colonel?"
He pointed to Methos and the Immortal nodded. "I've found us a captain willing to take us to Crete."
The others were jubilant as he explained the deal he'd made with Gyganes.
"And the best part," he finished. "Is that we can move out of here and onto the ship as soon as it's ready. Even before he's hired a crew. As the owners, no one will question anything we do."
"How long before we can sail?" Daniel asked.
"A week, maybe two to get her fully stocked for a long voyage. We won't be able to take everything we need because of spoilage, but we'll be able to replace things as we go. And it's a big expenditure," he warned. "What with having to buy food for the crew and pay them off, but it'll be worth it. This way we're sure to get to Crete before the winter storms."
O'Neill nodded. "Good work, Pierson. All right campers, let's get some rest."
"Major!" Methos called softly as the others headed for their rooms to turn in. Carter paused as he got up to bring her the basket of fish and bread.
"Smells good," she smiled as she took it. "Do I get a clever bedtime story with it?"
Methos had the grace to look embarrassed. "Do you need it?" he asked gently.
She shook her head. "No. But if you're in the mood to talk I could use some company while I eat."
Methos grinned. "How about I tell you the tale of The Ship That Wouldn't Sink?"
"Is that like The Thing That Wouldn't Die?"
"The what?" he asked putting out all but one lamp to bring with him.
"You know, that old B movie. The Thing That Wouldn't Die."
"Must have missed that one," Methos murmured as he followed Samantha down the corridor. "Anyway, what was The Thing That Wouldn't Die?" he asked curiously.
"The usual," Carter shrugged. "Some guy in scary monster mask chasing after a lot of screaming bikini clad women."
"Now that's not fair," Methos put on his most insulted expression. "They weren't screaming because I chased them - they were just delighted to see me!"
There was a light breeze off the water early the next morning as Methos, O'Neill and Gyganes walked along the beach. The old man had been pleased to meet the family he'd be transporting and even more pleased to be invited to break his fast with them. He'd been a little surprised at the sight of Teal'c, but Daniel's story of how Uncle Teulokos had fallen asleep in a hot spring dedicated to Hephaestus, only to awaken and find himself colorfully blessed by the god of the forge had deeply impressed the man. The added inference that they had visited the Oracle at Delphi and been told to go to Egypt for reasons unknown only excited Gyganes' imagination further. They were on a quest like the great heroes of old and he would be blessed for helping them. Just to be certain, of course, he would sacrifice an unblemished goat to Poseidon and have the entrails read. But he didn't think the god of the sea had ever been angry with Hephaestus, so there should be no trouble there.
They reached the shipyard, primitive by modern standards, but a good sized factory by ancient ones where boats from large to small were built by skilled craftsmen. There were no slips or docks, just an old house where the master ship builder lived and his works in progress scattered over the beach. Gyganes led them to Metosthenes, whose family had been building ships for more than a century. With little in the way of formal greetings they headed over to the ship Gyganes' late friend had intended to purchase. Methos stood back saying nothing as he walked around the vessel, impressed by the quality of the workmanship.
Some thirty feet in length and approximately ten feet wide, it was fairly typical of most Greek ships that would be built over the next millennia. It might displace some fourteen tons of water and hold perhaps twenty tons of goods or stones as ballast weight. There were small decks both fore and aft, and a narrow walkway ran to either side above an open hold with rails along most of the length. One giant oar steered the ship and of course, there was a single mast for the large square sail that would be raised.
"I'll want modifications," O'Neill whispered as Methos paused to consider what kind of offer he'd make.
"What sort of modifications?" he asked, confused.
O'Neill looked at Methos as if he'd suddenly gone stupid. "You know, lifeboats, extra rigging above the hold, extended decks, maybe a nice little cabin with a wet bar and Jacuzzi for Carter, a fishing chair for me."
Methos nodded slowly. Jack was right. They were going to have to live on this thing for nearly three months and the Mediterranean was a dangerous ocean.
"Gyganes," he called, waving the captain over. "What would you say if we wanted most of the hold covered over with sturdy planking? Then, for the sake of my sister, built a small house atop it."
The old man look surprised, but nodded. "If it did not interfere with the running of the ship or its sea worthiness I would have nothing to say, would I?"
Methos smiled. "It would not. We'd leave openings near the prow and stern giving access to the hold. And there would be plenty of room for the crew."
Gyganes shrugged. "Draw a picture for Metosthenes and I am sure he will do his best."
"Not necessary," Methos explained. "Uncle Teulokos has told us what to do and we are fair hands at building ourselves."
Gyganes appeared astonished, but nodded emphatically. "If the god says this is how it must be done, then so it must be. Whatever help I can offer, it is yours."
Methos smiled gratefully. Now they would have free reign to do as they pleased. And once the story got around the villagers wouldn't even dream of interfering. He only wished he could have done this before, but coming into any town claiming religious favor was a good way to get one killed. Subtlety in presentation was everything.
Methos glanced at O'Neill, who nodded. This way, doing all the work themselves, they would also be able to reinforce the ship using modern techniques and no one could say anything. He went over to Metosthenes, bargaining hard for the ship and extra materials. The builder was clever, but had no head for business and Methos felt no pity when he raked him over the coals. Three small row boats and a ton of extra lumber were added to the bill as well as a promise allowing them to live and work on his beach for as long as they needed and all for just a few more pieces of bronze. When Metosthenes left, counting himself lucky, Methos turned to Jack and caught Gyganes smiling. Business sense was not much appreciated among the Greeks yet. The economy of investing in the future or hedging ones bets almost completely unknown.
"A fine son you have there, Yanos," the old man said proudly. "He speaks well for his family."
O'Neill raised an eyebrow. The only familial designations they'd given Gyganes so far were for Teal'c and Carter. For all the old man knew, Methos and Daniel could have been his brothers. On the other hand, this could make things interesting.
"Yes, he's a good boy," Jack agreed enthusiastically, reaching out to hug Methos shoulders and ruffle his hair mercilessly. "Sometimes he's a handful, but I think I'll keep him."
"Thank you, Father," Methos gritted as O'Neill wetly kissed his forehead and the old man grinned.
"Now, if you'll excuse us, Gyganes," the colonel said. "I need to inform the rest of the family to begin packing. Come on, son," he added expansively, leading Methos away by the back of the neck. "I'll buy you some candy."
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