The Ship That Sailed The Time Stream - Part 34
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Part 34

Abruptly, he remembered he was pretending to be a slave. The sooner he got to Rome, the better, Howie decided. He didn't think he was going to like Greeks.

The little man moved toward them. Lillith gave Howie a warning glance and he lapsed into immobility.

The conversation was long and repet.i.tive, due to Lil- lith's imperfect Greek, but eventually the little man pro- duced a silver stater. Other loungers gathered to watch the bargaining and offer ribald comment

Lillith extracted the last of the money from Howie's pocket and spread it beside her. Pointing to coins and extending fingers, she indicated her price. Howie's anger disappeared, overwhelmed by a numbing shock. He was seeing Lillith in her true light for the first time- peddling herself like a common- He couldn't bring himself even to think the word.

The little man's eyes burned more brightly. He licked his full red lips. Lillith, with a gesture of finality, picked up her coins and tossed them down the front of her dress. The little man knew when he was licked. He produced a handful of staters. Howie's eyes bulged.

He knew how much they'd gotten for the caique and how far it had gone. But this-why, it must be ten times as much!

And she could make all this money just for- Lillith dumped the silver down the front of her dress. It was wrong, of course; she shouldn't do it. But then, they did need money. And it would only take a little while.

He brightened as he reflected that he now had a steady source of income which could take them both to Rome. And since he was going to Rome for a good

cause . . . Come to think of it, Jesus hadn't hesitated to accept Mary Magdalene's earnings.

Lillith pointed at the entrance of the building. He recognized the word for bath. Or was it wash? He'd have to make himself scarce anyway while Lillith per- formed her part of the bargain.

The bright-eyed little man propelled him toward the bath attendant. Howie let himself be led into the first chamber. The attendant took his clothes and left him to doze in drowsy, comforting steam. He woke abruptly from a dream of carnal delights to discover the attend- ant sc.r.a.ping him with a strigil-like a wooden curry- comb. After awhile he was propelled into the next room, a swimming pool full of warm water. He joined the men who squatted there and fell asleep.

The attendant fished him out and slapped his back till he was through coughing and choking, then led him into the next room. The attendant pushed him in- to the cold pool. By the time he had splashed his way to the other end he was wide awake. To his surprise, the bright-eyed little man was waiting for him. Howie looked for his clothes but the little man had him by the hand and was leading him to a curtained-off al- cove.

Thirty seconds later the little man burst through the curtains immediately in front of Howie's foot. "Jehovah smite thee!" Howie raged. "Isn't the girl enough? Jesus rescue me from this den of iniquity!"

The little man stood at a safe distance, lower lip trembling as he stared at this berserk apparition.

A crowd gathered immediately. Hadn't these Greeks anything to do but stare? One elderly man detached himself from the crowd and edged toward Howie.

"Didst say Jesus?" he asked.

Howie stared.

"Art thou Christian?" the old man continued. "Me- thought thy tongue rang haply of mine own."

"Who are you?" Howie croaked.

"Alas," the old man sighed, "once I was Brother Wil- libald of Glas...o...b..ry-until that Satan inspired Al- chemist talked me into arming his copper coiled Alem- bic." The old man sighed again. "The Abbey may now possess the Philosopher's Stone and know all the Arts of trans.m.u.ting Base Metals into Gold but alas-will Brother Willibald ever again drink the brown October Ale?"

"He paid her good money," Howie said. "What's he doing here?"

Brother Willibald smiled sadly. "Alas, poor Wight,"

he said. "That Flower of Evil sold not herself. 'Tis thou who art soldi"

It was impossible; Lillith would not do such a thing!

Then he remembered: it had been her idea that he pretend to be slave, her idea that he walk behind. Come to think of it, just about everything since she had broken him out of that cage aboard the Alice had been her idea. There was but one thing to do with peo- ple like Lillith. Through his chosen instrument, Howie, the Lord of Hosts would strike her dead.

He reached for the revolver and remembered he no longer had it. He had nothing-no sandals, no chlamys, not even his dungarees!

The old man still faced him, looking for all the world like Howie's Old Testament-tinted concept of the father he'd never had.

"Strooth, thou'rt sold," Brother Willibald said. "Wilt thou accept the Penance with true Christian Fort.i.tude or wilt thou rail against the Path which thy G.o.d hath set thee?"

Brother Willibald's question took Howie unawares and abruptly shattered several of his more cherished illusions. Now, he finally remembered that his G.o.d had existed even before Christ. He was naked before his

enemies, but not beyond jurisdiction. He was being punished by the merciful, compa.s.sionate, all powerful and eternal G.o.d-the Secret Named G.o.d of Abraham and Isaac, the G.o.d of Israel, G.o.d of Christ, G.o.d of Howie, G.o.d of Mercy, G.o.d of Vengeance.

He had been only too ready to sell, or at least rent, Lillith. Abruptly he burst into ragged cackling laughter.

He was still giggling and whooping hysterically when the hot-eyed little man nudged him into the cold pool.

The chill sobered Howie. He climbed out considerably chastened to face his owner. "I've sinned and I'll pay,"

Howie said. "I'll do whatever he says except one thing.

Even G.o.d would never make me do that."

Brother Willibald interpreted. The crowd marveled at Howie's amusing display of foreign obstinacy with varying degrees of amus.e.m.e.nt and cynicism. The hot- eyed little man's lips began trembling again. He asked another question and when Brother Willibald answered at some length his shoulders drooped.

"He had no other Work for thee," Brother Willibald interpreted.

Howie found it in his heart to be vaguely sorry for his owner. After all, Lillith had cheated both of them!

Brightening, Howie turned to Brother Willibald. "May- be you could buy me?"

"G.o.d's Wounds!" the old man groaned. "Had I such Gold I'd buy myself."

Howie stared. "Are you-?" he began.

Brother Willibald sighed. "I'd not been a day in this Cradle of Democracy before I was seized as a foreign Pauper and auctioned. Alack!" he sighed again, "and nevermore to taste the brown October Ale." He mum- bled incoherently for some moments, then noticed How- ie again. "Mayhap I'll resolve thy Plight," he said. He spoke rapidly to Howie's owner. The hot-eyed little man nodded and shambled sadly back toward the hot room.

Brother Willibald found Howie's chlamys but mis-

understood the young G.o.d shouter's demand for his pants. It did not occur to Howie to say trousers, hosen, or bracae. Resigned to the loss, he strapped on his sandals. Brother Willibald led him out of the baths and around the block, up a flight of stairs. There Brother Willibald knocked and the door was unbarred by the loveliest creature Howie had surveyed in all his eighteen years.

She was short, more pet.i.te than Lillith, and her diaph- anous stola displayed a tiny waist beneath firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Her long black hair was in a single braid, piled vo- luptuously into a crown. The face beneath that crown looked on Howie with every indication of delight. She led Howie into the atrium and signaled him to wait.

"Who is she?" Howie asked.

"Doth Chloe please thee?"

Howie was too stricken to answer.

Brother Willibald smiled a small secret smile and said nothing.

Another woman entered the room. Though there wasn't the slightest resemblance, her stern, forbidding att.i.tude reminded Howie of his mother. She surveyed the young G.o.d shouter from all angles, looked at his teeth, and questioned Brother Willibald.

By the time the old man turned and said, "My Lady will buy thee," Howie felt six inches shorter.

Remembering Chloe, Howie brightened. Brother Wil- libald showed him around and Howie tried to shake the girl from his mind long enough to remember which room was which. He was shown a pile of straw in the kitchen for the servants.

"How many are there?"

"Thou, I, the cook, and Chloe."

Howie worried until the cook turned out to be a walleyed old crone with a slightly crooked back.

"Our Night.w.a.tchman died," Brother Willibald ex- plained. " 'Tis best that thou sleepest now."

Considering the day's adventures, it was commend- able for Howie's conscience that he lay awake all of thirty seconds. He had no way of knowing the hour when somebody shook him gently awake.