28. A View from the Sea

CHAPTER 28

A VIEW FROM THE SEA

L ater that afternoon

As crewmen adjusted the main sail and the top mast sail, Captain St. John watched as the Earl and Countess of Bellingham and their sons and nephews lined up along the leeward deck and gazed north.

Only the hour before, the family had hurried to the deck when the Greek temples at Selinunte were spotted by the barrelman. Perched in the crow’s nest on the foremast, the sailor seemed to enjoy watching the passing scenery as much as the ship’s passengers, and the captain made sure to tease him. “You would think you had never seen a Greek temple before,” he called up.

“That’s because I haven’t, cap’n,” the lanky man shouted in glee.

St. John chuckled as he made sure to steer clear of a series of fishing boats heading toward the docks southeast of Agrigento, their nets full from a day at sea. Up the steep hill from there and to the east, the remains of a crumbling city wall and the limestone columns from ancient Greek temples stood out atop a plateau, their Doric columns cast in a golden orange glow from the late afternoon rays of the sun.

“Look at how they’re lined up,” Tom remarked in awe, his attention on a pair of columns left standing at the Temple of Hercules.

“Originally there were fifteen temples in Akragas,” Randy said. “At least, that’s what the guidebook claimed.”

“How many are left?” Barbara asked, gasping when her attempt at using a pair of opera glasses was finally successful and the Temple of Concordia was briefly in her sites. “This one looks as if it could still be in use.”

“Probably is,” Donald remarked. “But as a church.”

The captain had found another spyglass in his cabin, and Will was expertly using it on another set of ruins before he passed it to David. “Eleven, or eight, depending on how you count them,” he said. “Along with some Roman ruins.”

“The Normans were here, too,” Donald said, finally capturing a spyglass from his cousin. He concentrated his viewing efforts on the very last of the string of ruins. “The Temple of Hera was badly damaged in an earthquake?—”

“I thought the Carthaginians took it down,” Tom said in protest.

“—and the Carthaginians helped,” Donald acknowledged. “But the duke saw to re-erecting at least part of her columns,” he explained. “The worst of the damage occurred at the Temple of Zeus. There’s so much rubble, it’s hard to distinguish what it once was, but a few of the telemons have been reassembled. They were twenty-five feet tall, and that was only half the height of the temple.”

“What is a telemon?” Barbara asked in a whisper, her gaze going to her husband.

“A giant figure of Atlas made to act as a column. Held up the temple walls,” he replied, keeping his attention on the plateau even as he raised his arms and stood with his elbows bent to imitate how the columns had been posed.

“It must have been quite a sight when... well, when would this have been?” she asked.

“Over two-thousand years ago,” Randy said.

“Twenty-three-hundred years ago,” Tom stated, rapping his brother’s shoulder with the back of his hand.

“We’re moving so fast, they’ll be out of sight soon,” Barbara complained.

Will grinned. “There will be more to see.”

“From the water?”

He nodded and pointed farther down the coast, where white cliffs could be seen rising from the water in a series of terraces.

“Are those stairs?” she asked in awe.

“ Scala dei turchi, ” the captain said as he joined them at the railing. Rodney had taken the wheel at his behest.

“The stairs of the Turks,” she interpreted.

St. John didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Indeed. They are rather large, but they are negotiable. You’ll see a series of them along this part of the coast.”

“Did the Turks really use them to climb onto the island?” she asked, her opera glasses now trained on the formations.

“Actually the Saracen pirates did,” Will said. “Back in the sixteenth century. They used to land there and plunder the coastal villages.”

“Are there still pirates about?” Barbara asked, her worried gaze going to St. John.

He gave a quick glance in Will’s direction before shaking his head. “The Saracens are no more,” he assured her.

Although she didn’t look completely convinced, Barbara returned her attention to the coastline. “I do appreciate you sailing close enough for us to see all this, especially with the sun setting so quickly.”

“It’s been my pleasure,” the captain replied. “We are fortunate to have had good winds these past few days.”

“When will we reach Catania?” she asked.

Will chuckled softly. “Patience, my lady. We haven’t even made it to the Isle of Ortegia.”

Barbara’s lower lip was evidence of a brief pout before he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Probably tomorrow.”

She brightened. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink tonight, I am so excited,” she murmured.

Will smirked. “I may have to take advantage of that situation,” he teased.

Visibly reddening in the late afternoon sun, Barbara grinned and turned her attention back to the shore.