"Da. I'll try not to bother you." The redbeard's look was so gentle that Eodan wondered how much he understood—surely not a great deal; it was growing upon Eodan what a reach of darkness each human soul holds for all others.
He returned to the lesser galley and cut the bonds of Flavius and Demetrios. "You can go look about," he said listlessly.
Flavius stood up. He searched Eodan's face for a long while. "It was badly done of the fates not to make you a Roman," he said at last, and left. Demetrios followed him.
Eodan sighed and went to the cabin. Hwicca and Phryne stood there. The Cimbrian girl was flushed; her breast rose and fell and she ran forward to take his hands. "I thought I saw all our folk come back in you!" she cried.
Eodan looked across her shoulder at Phryne, who stood white in the doorway. "I begin to grasp your meaning," he said with a crooked smile. "This was no more unjust than any other war."
"Would you wash yourself?" asked the Greek girl.
He nodded. "That, and sleep."
Hwicca stepped back, her face hurt and bewildered. Eodan went past her into the cabin. Phryne brought him a sponge and a bucket of salt water. He cleansed himself and lay down on one of the mattresses. Sleep came like a blow....
He woke suddenly. Lamplight met his eyes. The air had cooled, and the ship was rocking. He heard singing and the stamp of feet, but remotely. He sat up.
Hwicca sat beside him. Her hair was loose, rushing over her shoulders so he did not at first see she wore her best gown. She hugged her knees and regarded him with troubled eyes.