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little, for just as they were unfurling the sail aboard the Apollo , Myrina spied a small fishing boat rowing fast toward them from the west. A red scarf fluttered as though in warning and Myrina did not know whether to hasten away or wait to see what this might mean. Then, as she hesitated, she saw that it was Kora who was waving to her from beneath the red streamer.
    “Wait!” she cried. “Hold the sail! Hold the oars! Drop anchor!”
    While the Artemis headed steadily north, Myrina slipped a rope over the side and hauled Kora aboard the Apollo .
    “Take me with you!” Kora demanded.
    They saw that the strong woman was trembling.
    “Of course you may come if you wish it,” Myrina assured her. “But what of your man and your little ones?”
    “Gone—all gone!” Kora whispered. “Slaughtered in the young Ant Man’s wake. Our crops and huts are burned to the ground. I come with you and you must not wait!”
    “With all your skills we will be ten times better off,” Myrina told her. “There can be nobody more welcome than you. But . . . I am so sorry you have lost your family.”
    “Unfurl the sail! Get under way!” Kora told her, brushing away sympathy. “A horseman came riding fast down the coast, crying out a warning. The Ant Man’s warships are returning from the east.”
    Myrina gave the order at once and the sail bellied out to catch the wind; only then did Kora allow her to take her into her arms and hug her tightly.
    They sailed north for two days with a steady wind behind them. Myrina tried to be calm, but she had never been so far away from any sight of land and she found it frightening to sail on and on and see nothing but waves.
    She longed to ask Kora’s help, but once they were under way the fisherwoman had became very quiet and withdrawn. They all respected and understood her grief, and Myrina dared not allow her thoughts to be drawn away from the sight of the moon and stars at night, the direction of the wind and pathway of the sun each day.
    On the fourth day the wind changed so that it began to blow from the north. They managed to furl their sails carefully and take up the oars, though it was hard work rowing into the wind. They battled onward, the Artemis still leading and the Apollo struggling on in her wake. The women’s newly gained seamanship was tested and proved worthy, but on the evening of the fifth day the wind grew stronger and the waves sent the two vessels tipping fiercely up and down.
    Myrina was so worried that, whether the woman was grieving or not, she went to Kora and begged her to get up from beneath the gunwales where she lay and help her.
    “One captain only aboard,” Kora told her sullenly.
    “There may be only one captain, but this captain needs help!” Myrina bellowed.
    “I told you that this sea was treacherous! This is the Inhospitable Sea!” Kora shouted back, but she got up with the faintest of smiles and marched to the prow. She pointed out a red streamer, just visible in the gloom, flying from the yardarm of the Artemis , still ahead of them.
    “Look,” she cried. “Iphigenia signals that she will lift the oars and try to sit it out. We should do the same!”
    “Lift oars!” Myrina shouted. “Drop anchor!” At once the oarswomen obeyed her. Akasya and Coronilla prepared the heavy anchor to be dropped over the side, but just at that moment they heard a shocking crack that seemed to come from the direction of the Artemis . It was so loud that the sound carried over the heaving waves and reached their ears above the roaring of the wind.
    “Maa defend us from these winds!” Even Kora could not maintain her confidence, as they saw that the mast of the Artemis had crashed down onto the deck, smashing a great gash across the gunwales.
    “We must go to help them,” Myrina cried. “Lower the oars! Kora—you are captain now—we need your skills!”
    Coronilla and Akasya left the anchor and hauled with all their strength to swing the great steering