Chapter 5: Watchman

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"Troy tends to let his eyes wander. I always find his eyes wandering into the expanse beyond. It is as if something is calling his attention besides my words. I feel his mind is floating somewhere else half the times..."

"You men shall start preparing to anchor the ship for nightfall," a gruff voice muttered from behind. My heart pumped faster, drumming inside the walls of my chest, threatening to give me away. I carefully slid the scroll back into the burlap sack, as Philemon the captain strolled by; his dark small eyes roving about as if looking for prey. He slowed his pace to stare at me. Frozen, I stood staring back at Philemon with a composed look. It was the first time noticing the permanent creases that carved their way into his forehead, his annoyance slowly muddled with weariness. His eyes shifted from me then to the sack that lay only a few feet away. Then he muttered something under his breath before walking past to speak to a group of fishermen fiddling with their nets. That was close. Too close! I backed away from the scroll and everything that it contained.

No soft plush bed waited underneath to cushion my body. The smooth wooden floorboards compressed against my back as I sprawled against the hard wooden deck. Spread above me was the evening sky now darkened to a deep blue. The only lights left were the shimmering stars. I closed my eyes; relaxed my neck, then my arms...then gradually relaxed the muscles in my legs. The only sounds were low groans and snores of men sleeping in their makeshift cots. I found myself tossing and turning, hoping to find the 'right' spot but no matter how hard I tried I could not fall asleep. My body slowly grew still yet my mind was racing faster; replaying all the day's events. If only I could fall....asleep.

******

"Rise and shine, comrade."

There was a melodious twang to his voice that softened his abrupt greeting. I fluttered my eyelids open, staring up at the burly figure over me. "You are the last one to rise," he chuckled flashing a smile filled with gaps. Was it morning already? I barely felt rested! I rubbed my eyes once again.

"I do not think I met you before," the fellow began again. "The name is Marius," he continued, extending his hand out in front.

"I am Troy," I muttered dryly. As I reached out to shake his hand he latched onto my hand and shook it for what seemed to be forever.

"After you have some breakfast, that should waken you up a bit," he snorted, finally relinquishing his grip to pat his protruding belly. I followed him to the barrel where today's meal would be served from. Porridge. I watched the server plop spoonfuls of the mushy oats...one...by...one. As I took my clay bowl of porridge and bread I looked around hoping to find an empty crate or barrel to sit on. As I approached Hyros there was an empty crate next to him. Right when I went to sit down, another person pushed past and sat next to him. Never mind! I looked around but practically all the crates were taken. I would have to sit on the hard floor again. While walking up and down the deck I saw a young lad who appeared to be closest in age to me.

"Do you know of any extra crates?" I asked him, before I plopped down beside him, folding my legs underneath. His muddy-green eyes glanced up at me before shrugging his shoulders. I ignored his indifference and slurped up the lukewarm porridge with a long spoon I was given. The last spoonful formed lumps clinging to my throat. Suddenly I lost my appetite.

"I could use some water," I muttered. The young lad looked back to note my irritation before staring into his bowl in front of him. I got up from my seat and went looking for the clay jugs of water. Just before I picked up the jug, a cold hand tapped my shoulder. I looked around to find Jason.

"Theseus would like to have a word with you," he replied in a rather stern tone. I studied his rather serious expression as he gestured to where Theseus stood; on the opposite side of the deck. I looked one last time at Jason as he beckoned for me to go at once. I gazed at Theseus whose hands were tucked behind his back. His smooth face slowly revealed expressive lines around his mouth. Maybe I am not in trouble after all.

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