“Why have they got it unfurled?” Milo asked. “The ship’s not going anywhere.”
“It must be Poseidon’s doing, a sign that he wanted us to find this ship,” I said. “We couldn’t ask for a better omen! Now let’s see whether the god will also help us find our new masters.” I started toward the ship, only to have Milo’s hand close on my shoulder yet again and hold me back. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Let me go first.”
“Why should I—?”
“In case your brothers are there.”
I could see he was right. The ship wasn’t deserted. My brothers very well might be there among the men who were swarming everywhere, bringing aboard and stowing supplies. I grabbed the side of another beached ship and pulled myself up to get a better view of what was happening aboard the Argo. Craning my neck, I caught sight of wooden storage chests being set down alongside the oars so the crew would have places to sit while they rowed. One man was examining the ropes that controlled the single sail. Another was stowing clay amphorae under the small wooden shelves at either end of the ship, as well as in the bottom of the shallow hull, taking care to distribute the weight evenly.
I let go of the other ship’s side and dropped back to the beach. “All right,” I told Milo. “You go ahead. I’ll be waiting for you over there.” I nodded toward the row of buildings along the seaside. “Bring me good news.”
It was a hard thing to have to let Milo approach the great ship without me. I loitered well out of sight, between a stone building and a shed that smelled of fish and sour wine. I didn’t like being left behind, waiting. I wanted to meet my fate head-on. I also wanted to examine every hand-span of the ship’s body to see where I’d best be able to lie low once we set sail and my brothers were on board. A smart rabbit doesn’t wait until the hounds are on her trail before she digs her burrow.
Milo came back quickly enough. He wasn’t smiling. For a moment I was terrified, imagining that the big ship with the yellow ram painted on its sail wasn’t the Argo after all.
“What did you find out?” I asked.
“That’s Prince Jason’s ship, all right,” he replied. “I talked to one of the crewmen overseeing the work. That is, he talked to me. Yelled at me, I mean. Told me to get out of the way so Lord Pelias’s slaves could do their work.”
“Is that why you’re wearing such a long face?” I asked. “I’ll teach him better manners.”
Milo shook his head. “Forget him. He’s nothing. The man with him, the one who called him ‘brother,’ he’s why I’m worried. He said, ‘Let the boy be. Can’t you see he’s only hoping for a handout?’ And when I told him I wanted to earn my keep as his weapons bearer, he answered, ‘Better look elsewhere. This ship’s fully manned. We’re not looking for any extra hands.’”
“Maybe he only said that to get rid of you,” I suggested hopefully.
Milo shrugged again. “They’re still there, by the ship, and plenty of others who don’t look like slaves. Talk to them yourself. Maybe they just didn’t like my looks.”
“Then they’re fools and I wouldn’t waste my breath on them,” I said.
“You’re always too kind to me, La—Glaucus. But you mustn’t worry. Someone’s got to be ugly in this world.” He grinned.
“You’re not ugly,” I said hotly. And that was true. The same harsh slave’s life that had left Milo so skinny had also given him wiry muscles under sun-browned skin. He reminded me of images I’d seen of the young Hermes, thin but fit and graceful. His dark hair was growing longer, like a noble’s, and his brown eyes shone when he smiled.
“Have it your way,” he said good-naturedly. “But in case they do prefer your looks, see if you can persuade them to hire me, too. It’s safe, your brothers are nowhere in sight. I’ll wait here.”
I raced off to the Argo. There must’ve been at least a dozen men working on board, continuing to secure the supplies. They were all strong and carried themselves with pride, even while they labored. They didn’t have the hungry, harried look of slaves. Eight more stood aside in scattered pairs on the shore, talking earnestly. They could hardly take their eyes off the ship. Most of them smiled when they looked at her, but I noticed one or two whose expressions said, What have I gotten myself into?
I approached one of those men first. “The gods give you a good day, sir,” I said cheerfully. “Has Prince Jason come down to the ship yet this morning?”
“How’s that any of your business, puppy?” he replied sourly. He had short hair, unlike most of the other warriors and nobles I’d met. It was silver-tipped and so bristly that he reminded me of a hedgehog.
I kept smiling. “I heard that he’s manned his voyage with plenty of heroes like yourself, but that the call came so quickly that you could do with a willing lad or two for the drudge work. Any Mykenaeans here?”
Hedgehog-hair scratched his head. “Those braggarts? I don’t think so, or we’d’ve heard their crowing by now.”
“Ah, too bad.” I pretended to be downcast. “They might’ve vouched for us.”
“‘Us’?” the man echoed. A trio of his friends were also beginning to pay close attention to what I had to say.
I jerked my thumb back over one shoulder. “My friend Milo. He’s down that way, out of sight, watering the wall to make it grow. The wall, I mean. Not much hope for the other.” I made an unmistakable gesture at the hem of my tunic. I’d seen and heard more than my share of such crude jokes passed among the Spartan soldiers. The men roared with laughter. “We were serving a pair of young warriors, Tantalus and Pelops, distant relatives of the Mykenaean royal house. They heard about Prince Jason’s quest. They were so eager to set out that they didn’t make a fitting sacrifice to Apollo before we left.”