Achilles lowered Buono to the deck. “You have my mercy. What did you say your name was?”
“It’s Buono.” He sat on the deck, afraid he’d fall if he tried to stand. He turned his head to Paolo. “Now what?”
Paolo laughed. “So eager! Rest. You’ve had a hard day, Buono. I’ll have the physician look at you. Tomorrow you row, unless this good north wind holds.”
“But– I failed.”
Achilles grinned down at Buono. “I like this one, Captain.” He offered his right hand and Buono took it. He let Achilles pull him to his feet.
“You mean, you think you had to beat him to join my crew?” Paolo said. “You? Ha! Just look at him! He’s magnificent! No. Achilles is my rowing-master and first mate. I keep an orderly ship. I don’t have time for every malcontent who wants to measure his cock. Every man in the crew has fought Achilles, and he’s beaten them all. Every man who gets the idea to challenge his authority already knows how it will turn out.”
“I think I could have known that without the lesson. But what if someone ever beats Achilles?” Buono asked.
“Well, I had another rowing-master before him,” Paolo said. “That one’s name was Hector.”
“You’re joking.”
“Perhaps I am.” Paolo turned to the assembled crew. “You lot! What are you staring at? We’ve fallen a point off the wind. Back to work!”
The crew dispersed, leaving Buono and Achilles alone on the fore-deck. Achilles still gripped Buono’s hand, steadying him.
“I think you made a mark on my neck, Buono.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a fair strike. I should have respected you more, kept my chin down.” Achilles paused. “There is a saying in my country: ‘Do not make a smaller man scared, for he will find a way to kill you.’ Are you scared of me, Buono?”
“Master Achilles, I am too hungry to be scared.”
“Ah, that explains it. We have another saying: ‘Always fight with your belly empty!’”
Achilles called for bread, and a sailor brought half a loaf to the foredeck. Just then the wind began to fail. The great white sail went limp as air spilled from it.
“Man the benches!” Achilleus shouted. The crew jumped to their positions and grasped the oars. Achilles barked the stroke and they rowed in unison.
“And you!” Achilles pointed to Buono, tearing at the bread with his teeth. Buono froze with a ragged hunk of it hanging from his mouth. “You, keep a watch off the bow. Sing out if you see any more rowboats!” Achilles laughed from his belly, a deep bass rumble. “Heigh! Ho! Heigh! Ho!” he called to the rowers. The galley churned on south, out of the Malamocco channel and into the Adriatic Sea.