kajira. Curiosity, we are informed, is not becoming to us. Yet, it is my distinct impression that many here, even the masters, do not understand what is being done here, its purpose, and its destiny. Doubtless some know; perhaps the ponderous Lord Okimoto, the camp commander, whom I had seen four times; perhaps the strange, lame, twisted little man they call Tersites, who was much about, whom I had often seen. He, I take it, is the master of these works and the yard. It seems little escapes him. He speaks with authority, impatiently, often shrilly, petulantly. Men strive to please him. They obey him without question. I suppose him to be a shipwright. One speculates, of course. The ship is very large. It is much larger than a river ship. I am sure there are many points on the Alexandra where it could not be brought about. Too, as nearly as I can determine, it is deeply keeled, and there might well be difficulties in even bringing it to the sea, depths varying, and given many bars, which may shift, and rocks. Too, I would suppose the channel is sometimes narrow, and twisting. Doubtless the masters are well aware of such things, and the route seaward has been sounded and scouted with care. It seems clear the ship is a deep-water ship. It is intended, then, to negotiate Thassa. Perhaps it is intended to trade with Cos and Tyros, or various island ports. But the harbors might be too shallow for it. Would not a variety of galleys be more practical? For what is so large a vessel required? It is much larger, many times larger, I am told, than even the largest of common round ships, or cargo vessels, which, too, are apparently very different from the long, low, knifelike vessels of war. Until Shipcamp, I had known only the two Gorean vessels which had been en route to the north, and the one other, seen during the voyage, when I, with the others, had been permitted on the deck. I had gathered, of course, earlier, that the harbor at Brundisium was large, crowded, and busy, but I, as the others, had been blindfolded when we were boarded.
I again considered the great ship.
It was too large to be propelled by oars. It would supposedly have six masts. They were not yet in place. Not even the great rudder was hung. What was the meaning of such a ship? For what work, what voyage, might it be intended? It was not a warship in any common sense; yet, interestingly, it nested six galleys, three to a side, which might be independently launched, and those galleys, I gathered, given their rams and large, crescent-like blades at their bows, suggested aggression and menace.
One thing seemed clear; when the ship was ready, which should be soon, we were to be joined by the armsmen and work crews from Tarncamp. Indeed, the tarn cavalry, trained toward the west, close to Tarncamp, was also to join us before we embarked. Why would tarns be needed? What purpose might they serve? Too, even though the vessel was large, it would carry hundreds of times the men required to manage it. Better to transport troops, I thought, would be smaller ships, a fleet of such. Who would care to risk an army, perhaps a war, by entrusting it to a single mount, to but one vehicle, to but one vessel? But Thassa, I supposed, vast Thassa, might lift her hand, and smash a fleet as well as a single vessel, and, I suspected, a mighty vessel might brave her wrath where a hundred common barks might perish in the sea. Too, what an enormous store of supplies might be housed in so mighty a vessel, supplies which might last years. Would it not be an island of wood, a world of sorts, sufficient onto itself, indefinitely scorning land, cresting indefinitely the dark turbulence of proud, dreadful, beautiful Thassa?
“Kneel,” said a stern voice, and I instantly knelt. I felt the boards of the dock on my knees. I kept my head down, and clutched the bota.
“Head up,” he said, and I was permitted to lift my head. When the head is lifted, one may commonly meet the eyes of the master.
“Tal, Laura,” he said.
“Tal, Master,” I said. All free males are Master; all free women are Mistress.
The men knew the names of several of us, who were commonly about the docks. We were often accosted in our