Before Dawn

I was going to talk more about beliefs today, but, you know what? I'm going to tell you about a story instead.  This came to me a while ago. Maybe I made it up, maybe it's a dream or a memory. Make of it what you will.

This is a short story. As it opens, I am standing at the railing of a sailing ship. This ship is fairly small, for an ocean-going vessel, maybe 20-30 feet long, wood, with a single mast. Think of a phoenician galley, if you want a rough idea what it looked like. This ship is a trader, not a war ship, and we were on our way to a colony among indigenous people. This trip has taken some weeks, but was more than half over. I knew that we were near the mouth of the great river, and, once there, there would be no more sickening rolling waves and salt air for the rest of the journey. The colony is on the banks of the river, many days from the coast.

I am a middle-aged women, accompanied by a single, armed, escort, who was also a friend. I was secretly transporting valuable temple artifacts to our colony for safekeeping. We knew that things at home were going badly and didn't want to risk the temple holies being destroyed or falling into the wrong hands where they would be misused. This is one trip among several, and the most important one yet. The objects I carried were the most valuable I had ever seen, and I was worried that something would happen. The responsibility weighed so heavily on me that I found it difficult to sleep, which is why I was standing by the railing before dawn.

The sea is calm, under a gray, pre-dawn sky. There is no wind. Just a heavy, warm, suffocating humidity that hangs over the water and makes all my clothes sticky with damp. I am dressed in long, light-colored, dress and robe of some thin material, with a head covering. Some jewelry as well, nothing flashy, but well suited for my position as a mid-level temple priestess.

I really didn't want to be here. I was a bureaucrat, much more comfortable with tasks that I could quietly complete each day, than with roaming the seas. Everybody to a schedule, everything in it's place, a nice, orderly life is all I wanted. I sighed quietly as I thought, not for the first time, that I had been chosen, probably, for that very reason. They knew I could be trusted with all the details and would make sure that everything was done exactly as needed, and I would not draw attention to myself. Everyone would just assume that I was about some boring bureaucratic details of such little value that it wouldn't be worth the risk of the wrath of the Gods, or worse, the displeasure of the temple, to bother me. There were, of course, those thieves that didn't know any better, but that was what my escort was for.

I grasp the railing with both hands, staring out over the water and wished the trip be over. I can smell the salt, much more pleasant than the air below, full of mold, rot and unwashed bodies. Everything is so quiet that I can hear the slight creak of leather when my escort shifts his weight. I feel a little sorry that I'm keeping him up, it is his duty to be by my side at all times, after all, but I just can't deal with being in that cabin any more that I absolutely have to. Soon the ship will awake and I will have to retire, discretely, to my cabin.

There ends the scene. For an epilog, consider this: This was her last voyage. The ship later sank in a storm, with all hands, and the priestess died with an overwhelming sense of shame and failure.