29. An Isle of Wonders

CHAPTER 29

AN ISLE OF WONDERS

L ater that night

By the time The Fairweather reached the Isle of Ortegia off the coast of Syracusa, dinner had been served and the men were enjoying a glass of port with the captain. Standing at the railing, Barbara watched in awe as Rodney, the first mate, took the ship closer to the small island. Rectangles of light dotted the limestone buildings that seemed to rise straight up from the water, their shapes barely visible in the dim glow of a new moon.

“Is there even a shoreline?” she asked of the older man.

“Around on the other side there’s a bit of a beach, I suppose,” he replied. “Otherwise, it’s pretty well covered with buildings. Has been since after the last big earthquake.”

What seemed like several feet above the water, a straight wall gave way to what appeared to be a promenade, torches lighting the stone walkway. A few men leaned against support pillars, occasional puffs of smoke signs they were enjoying a post-dinner cigarillo or smoking a pipe. Strains of lively music could be heard coming from an open window.

“What is that?” she asked, her eyes darting to where torchlight illuminated what she thought might be some sort of tree rising from an abyss.

“Ah, the papyrus still grows in the Fonte Arethusa,” he replied, setting the wheel before joining her at the railing. “One of the only places you’ll find papyrus growing besides on the banks of the Nile in Egypt.” He pointed to the greenery and then dropped his hand lower. “There’s a fresh water spring there, you see. An ancient spring.”

“Did you say Arethusa?” she asked.

“I did,” he agreed.

“She was a nymph of Artemis,” Will said, joining them at the railing. “The river god Alpheus?—”

“The son of the god Ocean?” she asked, briefly glancing up to see her husband staring at the fluffy greenery.

“Indeed. He fell in love with her. Tried to seduce her every way he could, but she wasn’t interested. She grew so annoyed with his attentions, Artemis turned Arethusa into a spring so she could escape from her undersea home of Arcadia. This is where she ended up.”

By the time Will finished his telling of the Greek myth, the ship had sailed well past the papyrus and was nearing the castle walls of Maniace.

“It looks positively medieval,” Barbara remarked.

“That’s because it is,” Will said before he allowed a guffaw. “That fortress has been there for six hundred years.” He stepped closer to her and wrapped an arm behind her waist, his gaze still on limestone and granite walls. “Which has me wondering how old the Montblanc castle is.”

Barbara glanced up at him. “Will it take long to reach it? Donald said it’s on Mount Aetna. Isn’t that a volcano?”

Will nodded. “It is,” he acknowledged. “I suppose we’ll find out as soon as tomorrow.”

The ship reached the end of the castle’s walls and Will noted how Rodney hurried back to the wheel. He chuckled.

“What is it?” Barbara asked.

“I think our speedy trip is about to slow down.”

She gave him a worried glance. “Why do you say that?” she asked. Despite the nightfall, there was still a stiff breeze filling The Fairweather’s sails.

“We’re about to take a sharp turn to the north,” he replied. Even as he said the words, a number of crewmen had appeared on deck, rushing about to change the direction of the sails.

Barbara’s attention was still on the castle, though, as she tried to imagine what sort of home her only grandson was living in.

What if it truly was better than what they could offer in England?