The young men watched in amazement as Anneus the fisherman upturned his whole fishing boat in one fluid motion and slung it over his upper body, looking like some ungainly sort of snail.
"Can we help with that at all?" Pelleus asked, stooping to see a pair of bright eyes peering out from under the cavernous little vessel.
"I can manage just fine, it's very light-weight, this coracle of mine," Anneus replied chirpily, but Marinus hoisted the back half of it on his shoulders all the same.
"Lead on, Anneus!" he said, ignoring the man's protestations and falling in step behind him as he started up the grassy slope from the coast. Pelleus kept pace alongside them, falling back when the path narrowed to a thin trail up the winding hillside. There were fragments of what might once have been paving stones or way-markers buried in the dry earth and overgrown with weeds, but the path otherwise appeared well-trodden.
"You two are welcome to stay in my hut, in Kithera, just the other side of these hills," Anneus wheezed as the path rose, still trying to bear the whole weight of his burden despite Marinus's assistance.
"That would be helpful, as we're strangers on the island – although in Pelleus's case that isn't strictly speaking true... " the fair youth replied. "I wonder if your father's home is nearby; perhaps he vacated it after you went missing."
Pelleus did not respond to these speculations – he had fallen behind the other two and so they couldn't gauge his reaction. In fact he had been giving this whole question a great deal of thought ever since he had come within view of the island's shores. Where was his father? What sort of man was he, to have sent his son away at such a young age to relatives in Achaea, and thence to school in Athens? Pelleus didn't dare hope to find him here, in his native land, but where else could Eustathios have got to?
While he mulled over these questions, Anneus led them up and around the foot of a great cliff, and they turned a corner into a narrow ravine that led through to the interior of the island. Marinus gasped as they emerged upon a hilltop, high above a great valley that extended far as the eye could see.
"Welcome to Kithera, the eastern realm of Arcadia!" Anneus said, briefly casting off his burden and resting it against the mouth of the ravine.
Everywhere they looked the land was green and blooming with life. There were miles of rich pastures and meadows, broken up by patches of forest and small copses of trees. Stony outcrops bordered the thin ribbons of distant streams that ran into shining pools, and all appeared unmarred by any human presence, save for some mouldering, overgrown ruins that framed the horizon on the far side of the valley. As they gazed on, however, this illusion was shattered somewhat by the presence of other, living dwellings, but these were so seamlessly grafted into the landscape that it was little wonder the two strangers had overlooked them at first sight.
"Magnificent!" Marinus breathed, squinting towards the far-flung woods and fields as the sun dipped low in the sky. Anneus puffed out his chest proudly.
"That's Arcadia for you! And I consider Kithera the finest of her four realms," he said, wiping his brow with a hairy forearm. "But come along, I need to be back home before sundown, and the day is fast escaping us."
He slung the coracle over his head and shoulders again and hastened down the hillside.
Their path must have risen much higher than Marinus and Pelleus had thought, because the lowlands before them still seemed some way above sea level. The descent was blissfully easy for them, and before long they reached a warm and shady avenue of trees that ran along the base of the hills. On their far side open fields and meadows stretched away out of sight, stirred by the distant figures of wildly roaming deer.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
"Here we are, here we are," Anneus announced, bustling up the way to a modest little cabin nestled in the shade of a pair of beech trees. The whole structure stood a foot above the ground on risers, with a thatched roof resting on wooden lintels, and only a swag of cloth covered the open doorway against intruders.
Anneus hung his coracle on a hook on the side of this hut before rushing inside to make ready for his guests.
"Hurry along my hearts, there isn't much time; I have an appointment to make at sundown!" he called to them out of the hut.
"Can we help you along in any way?" Pelleus asked, still feeling indebted to their friend and host.
"No need – it's only watch duty. I promised Agon, the lord of the manor, to look out for the thief who's been pilfering his prize fig-trees. He's been having conniptions over it, making all kinds of threats, and now he's ordered some of us to stand watch over them."
As he spoke he seemed to be ransacking the hut's few cupboards for various items. He took out some bowls and a few ceramic jars, setting them down at random until Marinus interjected:
"Hold on, Anneus; why don't I take over your watch this time? I'm used to that sort of duty by now, and I would jump at the chance to spend a night under the stars of this blessed isle."
"Ah, no, I think I had better..." Anneus began stubbornly, but Marinus seemed to have his mind made up already, and insisted. The fisherman took some serious persuading, but in the end he agreed to take the youth along to the watchtower.
"I really don't think this is a good idea, but if you must... I shall bring you refreshment, and here, take the cloak, go on," he said, casting the garment over Marinus, who was excited now beyond reason. Perhaps it was something in the atmosphere, as the sun quickly sank in the sky and the treelined avenue was cast in sharp silhouette against a golden-lighted sky, but he felt as though he was on the cusp of some wonderful new experience, and that a fresh chapter in his life was shortly to begin.
They passed over a stile in a low, drystone wall that was almost lost amid a large hedge of hawthorn bushes, entering a long, neatly ordered orchard packed with rows of luxuriant fruit trees. The watchtower consisted of a platform set atop a tall tree whose upper branches had been pared back to clear the sightlines, but not so much that the watchman was visible from the ground. One could see fairly well without being seen from that perch, as Anneus explained to Marinus, who let it all wash over him. He was only half listening; still full of a strange sense of delight at his own good fortune.
"Take care on the ascent, and the descent, mind you; some of the rungs are a bit loose, and you don't want to lose your footing up there!"
It was all Marinus could manage in his excited state to send the anxious fisherman back on his way again.
"I shall be fine, I'm sure of it; thank you again, Anneus," he said absently.
"And I shall come by in an hour or so with a flask of wine, you may depend on it," Anneus babbled on, still reluctant to let the young man take over his job. "If you see the thief – and I very much doubt you will – don't try to engage him, just take the horn up there and sound the alarm... should scare him off... all right, you get the point; yes, I am going... well, goodbye, then."
And at last he was off, back across the orchard and down the lane.