A longish chapter where Drustan finally emerges as Drustina while preparations are afoot to evict Mutas from Maga's throne.

The Angry Mermaid 19.

Or

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 19.

Mabina. The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin the twins grandfather.
Giana The twins grandmother
Caderyn The twins father.
Herenoie The twins wise and beautiful mother.
Morgaran The Twins oldest brother.
Aiofe The twins oldest sister. Famous for her beauty.
Tara The twins second oldest sister. Famous for her grace.
Feidlim Twins aunt (Caderyns’ beautiful sister.)
Mogantu Twins uncle (Married to Feidlim.) Chief of the Gangani tribe.
Brun. Twins 2nd cousin and the Acaman clans’ blacksmith.
Feorin. Twins second brother. Also training to be a blacksmith.
Rhun Feidlims’ son and Feorins’ favourite 1st Cousin. (Both red-heads.)
Arina Child of a Demetae fisherman, (rescued by Aiofe, Drustan and Mabina.)
Penderol Dumnonii Minor chief.
Udris Young Dumnonii warrior.
Dryslwyn High chief of the whole Celtic nation. Dwells in Brithony.
Bronlwyn Dryslwyn’s wife (and queen.)
Magab The moor who taught numbers.
Eric Saxon galley slave rescued from Corsair pirates.
Carl Another Saxon galley slave rescued by Drustan.
Torvel Celtic galley slave rescued from the same captured corsair ship
Arton. Turdetani Chieftain Holder of Gibral Rock.
Carinia Arton’s wife.
Isobel. Arton’s adopted daughter.
Appotel King of the Turdetani Tribe. (Southern Iberia.)
Bramana Queen. (Wife of Appotel)
Pilus King of the Capetani.
Shaleen Pilus’s queen and sister to Bramana.
Pedoro Lord Marshal of the Southern border region.
Lady Shulaar Lord Pedoro’s wife.
Taan. The scullery maid.
Isaar. Pedoro’s oldest son.
Ferdie Pedoro’s 2nd son
Sular Pedoro’s 3rd son
Gontala Pedoro’s youngest son.
Shenoa Pedoro’s only daughter.
Portega. Tyrant King to the west.
Portua. Portega’s grandson.
Jubail. Old Fisherman.
Mutas Magab’s younger brother and usurper.
Walezia King of Malta.

Once clear of the King’s council room, Drustan went looking for Aiofe. He found her sat with Magab, Torvel and Arina gazing pensively over the Mediterranean Sea towards the faintest outline of Sicily. They turned as one expectantly when he appeared still dressed as a maid. Arina and Magab could hardly believe how convincing Drustan was. Torvel was simply shocked. He knew of Drustan’s strange duality for there were few secrets when you shared a ship but even he could not assimilate the famous warrior with the stunningly beautiful, tall, statuesque maid in her long gown.

“By the Goddess Eleen, you amaze me Drustan.”

Drustan ignored Torvel’s remarks as he explained, “if anybody asks of me, I am called Drustina. I am become cursed with this strange duality but I warn you brothers, do not forget who I really am! My sword is still sharp under this gown and my faithful dagger lies under my breasts! I may no longer have all the strength of a man but I have speed and flexibility. Now I have just come from talking with King Walezia and I...”

“You’ve what!!?” Aiofe almost screeched.

“I said I’ve just come fro...”

“I heard you! Are you stupid or something?”

Drustan flashed her an angry glare.

“No! I’m not stupid, sister. While you have been sitting here going nowhere, I have been abroad in the town and testing the mood of the people. Everybody knows the state of the granaries and they are blaming the breakdown with Carthage upon Magab’s presence here on this very island. The people are not stupid but the problem is rumours are rife and even the King doesn’t know the whole picture.”

“Neither do we,” Aiofe replied, “indeed, neither do you!”

“I know more than most but that’s not important. What is important is this. The King knows that Drustan is the last person to visit Carthage so what I don’t know I can make up. If the King hasn’t got an accurate picture, then I can paint him one and paint it to our advantage!”

Aiofe smiled knowingly. ‘Perhaps her brother was not so stupid after all.’ She prepared herself to listen to his plan as he explained, firstly in a whisper.

“I’ll address you as 'my Lady' to hide my true identity.”

Aiofe nodded as she grasped her brother’s reasoning. He was still masquerading as the maid Drustina. Drustan continued.

“Right, my Lady, I need you to come up with some ideas before I return to have my audience with the King tomorrow. I will meet you here before the noon hour and we can work out a strategy. I know you’re clever so don’t let me down and get your fiancé to help you. I’ve got too much to do before I get back here tomorrow with another basket of bloody expensive fruit.”
“Yes, I wondered about that. Where did you get such excellent fruit from? Most stuff is going rotten by now.”

“Don’t you worry about my fruit. You just give me some useful pointers tomorrow so that I can bamboozle that bloody King, and don’t forget, he’s not stupid!”

Aiofe smiled and Drustan made his way back into town. He found the fruit seller sitting on her particular patch near where the Mermaid was moored and guarded. He had found her there the first time displaying her partially damaged wares. When he had bought an orange off her and asked if she had any better stuff she had cast around nervously before revealing some much better fruit under the poor stuff. She had explained that she had to hide the good quality stuff or people might steal it from her. The only people who passed by the quay were casual passers-by and she could not sell in the market because she could not afford the license. When Drustan had purchased some good fruit at a better than fair price, she was tearfully relieved. He had seen her there the following morning and had decided on using her fruit to work his way into the palace. That next day he used the same stratagem but by now the palace staff were used to the tall attractive maid with the fruit.

At eleven the following morning, he met Aiofe and they discussed ideas.

“So my lady, what’s your stratagem?”

“Are you sure about the King?” Aiofe asked

Drustan reassured her that ‘the maid Drustina’ had extracted a firm promise for the safe pratique of the Celtic sea captain.

“All I can tell you is that he gave me his word. What other assurance could I ask for?”

“Then we’ll have to risk it. Is he expecting to meet Drustan today?”

“He’s hoping to. I said I would try and find him in his usual haunts.”

“Right then here’s my plan.”

Drustan settled on the low wall overlooking the sea as Aiofe elaborated.

“Right little brother, or should I call you little sister?”

“Let’s not go there sister,” Drustan cautioned her as his face clouded.

Aiofe realised she had struck a very tender nerve so she resumed discussing her strategy.

“Now brother, you’ll have no doubt noticed that the mood in the town surrounds the issues concerning the bread shortage.”

“Don’t I know it?” Drustan concurred. “There’ll be food riots in a few weeks if something isn’t done.”

“Exactly brother that’s the issue, the ‘few weeks’.”

“Go on.” Drustan encouraged her.

“Well little brother, those ‘few weeks’ are vital.

“How long would it take for you to return to Appotel’s Kingdom in the Mermaid?”

“Dunno. ‘Bout a week I suppose if the winds are unfavourable; you know, anything with a westerly component so I have to beat into it. If the Mistral strikes it will be northerly. The passage will be much faster but much more dangerous.”

“That’s exactly my thinking little brother. Here is my plan. You return to Appotel post haste with a request to purchase more grain. Appotel owes you plenty of favours and he’s bound to agree to help you - thus helping me. If you return with the initial consignment in the fast boats just to tide the island over, we can convince Walezia that there is an alternative source of food. Then Appotel can deliver enough to feed the island all winter by despatching the trading fleet. When we left, I remember his writing to Pilus to say that they were enjoying an excellent harvest with plenty of surplus.

Now, those Lusitanian ships of Mabina’s are well capable of withstanding pissy little Mediterranean storms; they were built to withstand the great western sea.”

Drustan thought about the plan and nodded then frowned.

“Good plan sis, just one snag.”

“Go on.”

“How do we pay for the grain?”

“That’s your part little sister, you’ll have to use your maidenly charms to get King Walezia to part with some gold.”

“Will you stop calling me your little sister!?”

“When you’re dressed like that brother, how else shall I address you? You’re bloody convincing you know. You totally tricked me that first day in the refectory.”

Drustan cursed and kicked angrily at a rose in one of the flowerbeds. Aiofe smiled and gently squeezed his arm. She noted that despite the soft smooth delicate texture of the skin her brother’s arm was hard and muscular underneath. She wagged her head thoughtfully as she considered her ‘brother’s’ strange duality.

‘He seemed to be getting more maidenly every day and she was worried about his having monthly calls by Damara. That was really weird. She would have to warn her sibling to beware of the new priests finding out or they might try to have him burned as a witch.’

As she studied her brother, she could not help but notice his tall, rounded form that readily portrayed him as a maid. His hips were just too rounded for a boy and he swayed gracefully when he walked. Fortunately, his swordplay was every bit as deadly as it had always been; nevertheless, Aiofe was worried for him.

“So what d’you think?” she pressed her sibling and yet avoiding any pronoun that alluded to gender.

“That solves the Maltese problem, what about Magab getting his kingdom back?”

“One thing at a time my dear sibling - we’ll face that one if and when you return with some corn.”

“So if I fail, it’s curtains for you and Magab.”

“How so?”

“Well I should think Walezia will want to keep you hostage here with Magab while Torvel, Arina and I set forth.”

“You could take a couple of Maltese seamen. Then you could show them what strength we have in our Celtiberian allies; not to mention the food surpluses.”

Drustan sucked on his cheek.

“It would be better if one of them was some sort of diplomat. They haven’t traded or entreated to the west since the Corsair Pirates became a threat. Now the pirate threat is ended, they should really be sending out emissaries. This is an opportunity we can present to Walezia as another diplomatic ploy.”

“That’s a good point Drustan,” Aiofe smiled, “we’ll make a diplomat of you yet! They haven’t sent envoys to the west yet because their ships can’t handle the winter storms. The Mermaid would be a perfect vehicle to extend their diplomatic contacts. It also gives Walezia a cover story to hide his real intention of entreating with Iberia.”

Drustan grinned and made his excuses. It was nearly noon and he had to meet with the King, still masquerading as a maid.

“Sounds like a plan. See you later sis. Wish me luck.”

They exchanged a sisterly kiss to reassure each other, then Drustan stepped boldly off to meet the King in his council chamber. He was certainly not as confident as he appeared to be when he knocked on the council chamber door.

“Come.” Sounded through the heavy door so the guards sloped their halberds back to the upright shoulder position and Drustan peered around the door smiling.

“Ah. It’s you, the pretty maid. Did you manage to find him?”

“Yes my liege.”

“Is he prepared to come and speak with me?”

“Yes my liege.”

“Good. Well don’t just stand there girl. Sit on that settee and tell me what he said. What does he want?”

“May I speak freely sir, may I reveal all?”

“Of course my girl! I expect nothing else.”

Drustan sat on the settee, savoured the comfort and then stood again as he went to peep out of the window. Finally, he turned to face the King who was leaning back in his chair with his elbows on the chair arms and his fingers steepled under his lower lip.

He noted the girl’s hesitation, so he tried reassuring her.

“Is there something bothering you girl? Has he asked too much?”

Drustan turned and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. He needed to know. Eventually he plucked up the courage and he spoke haltingly, nervously.

“My lord, the man wishes to know how censorious your priests are about this one god thing. Drustan was called a pagan in Iberia and if it wasn’t for his services to both King Appotel and King Pilus, he might have been condemned by those one-god priests. He wants to know where he stands here in Malta. Are your priests equally censorious?”

King Walezia studied the maid and sensed her nervousness. He decided to try and put her at her ease.

“My dear young maid, they are guests of my court, all of them. I do not allow my guests to be made to feel uncomfortable. The definition of good manners is to put your present company at ease. Do you see fear in the Lady Aiofe’s eyes when you meet her?”

Drustan hesitated and stiffened nervously. The King grinned.

“Don’t worry girl, I’ve seen you talking with her. Obviously you are talking to her about her brother. She is obviously concerned for him and I would expect nothing less. She is not a prisoner as you can see by the freedom to roam the palace; however my hands are tied and I have to act like a King. I must protect my people. If you wish to talk with Aiofe you are free to do so at any time and you are free to come and go at will. I just wish that you could persuade the man Drustan to come and see me. I need information about Carthage.

“I will not deny that I saw you speaking to Aiofe in the garden but I am not spying on her. As you can see I have a wide view of the garden from that window.”

Drustan looked out and down to see Aiofe laughing with Magab while Arina was playing with one of the cats. There seemed to be no threat. Drustan took a deep breath as the King shifted expectantly.

‘The maid obviously had something important to pass from the Celtic captain.’

He spoke softly but encouragingly.

“Well go on girl - spit it out. I don’t kill the messenger!”

“My lord there is a secret about the Celtic captain that you must never reveal, especially to your priests.”

“My priests do as they’re told. I’m King here.”

“If I reveal this secret will you promise not to condemn the boy, the man?”

“I don’t know what the secret is girl. I cannot commit myself to an unknown. Do you think it will affect the safety or the security of my kingdom - my people?”

Drustan hesitated thoughtfully. If the King was sympathetic and supportive, Drustan felt he would fight through the gates of hell on Walezia’s behalf.

“The secret affects only him my lord. It affects no others and it certainly doesn’t affect your kingdom. It might upset your priests though.”

“If this is about the paganism thing I...”

“It’s not about paganism my liege; it’s about the man himself. He is not as other men.”

“Well isn’t that the truth,” the King laughed. “I’ve read the letters you know, from half the Kings of the western kingdoms. I know of his deeds and his courage and of his scars. He cannot deny himself. I can even determine if he is who he says. D’you know I only have to ask him to lower his britches. Have you heard about the scar on his nether quarters?”

Drustan frowned as though portraying a maid confronted with a salacious act. The King sensed that the maid appeared to be a somewhat innocent girl not much given to bawdy stories. He immediately changed his tack.

“Just let me tell you my girl, I know of his exploits and they are truly astounding. They say he can be an excellent raconteur when he’s in the right company. Might I beseech you to do your best to persuade him to come here? I desperately need to speak with him and I promise you before any god you wish to call, that I will not harm a hair on his or his friend’s heads.”

Finally convinced, Drustan stepped away from the window where he could not be seen by any but King Walezia.

The King stirred uneasily but Drustan reassured him.

“I mean no harm my liege but you must know certain things.”

“Go on young lady, what are these things?”

“Well firstly my liege, I am not a maid, I am a man.”

King Walezia's jaw sagged as he gaped stupidly at Drustina.

“You jest girl!”

“No sire. I can assure you, were I to cast aside this frock I can easily prove it.”

The King smiled and motioned her to do so. Drustan deftly slipped the rough homespun dress over his shoulders to reveal his dagger nestling in it's integrated bra-cum-sheath that lay across his ribs under his well developed breasts and his sword laying tight down the graceful curve of his back. The King started at the revelation of weapons but Drustan reassured him.

“I mean you no harm sir, indeed I wish to help you.”

“So you are a maid who bears arms and a comely maid at that.”

“Oh yes sir, I can assure you that these are maidenly attributes but they are not all I have. The next bit is a somewhat more personal move - may I have your permission to lower my hose?”

The King wagged his head in bemusement.

“Well, if you must young lady, but the why and where escapes me.”

Thus empowered by the King’s permission, Drustan lowered his maidenly hose and revealed a manly bulge where a maid was smooth and flat. Then he tugged his breechcloth aside to reveal his manhood. The King’s jaw sagged disbelievingly.

“My God! You ARE a man!”

Drustan sighed despondently as he lifted his shapely leg to reveal the greatest secret of all behind his balls. He rested his foot on the King’s table and lifted his testicles clear to give a better view. The King squealed with amazement.

“But that’s, that’s a woman’s ... that’s a woman’s parts!”

“Precisely my liege. So now you know of my duality, what you don’t yet know of is this!”
So saying he span around with all the grace and poise of a dancer to reveal the huge angry scar that ran from waist to his woman’s parts.

The King gave a strangled gargle of shock and croaked, “My God! You! It’s you, Drustan Scar-arse!”

“Or, as I am more wont to call myself these days sire, Drustina Scar-arse!”

The King’s eyes drank in the maidenly curve and peachy texture of Drustina’s ripe form and he was lost for words. As his jaws worked soundlessly, Drustan swiftly redressed but not without fully exposing his breasts as he re-adjusted his bra properly before closing the top of his dress. The King’s eyes fell upon them, not salaciously but disbelievingly until Drustina stood before him modest as a maid again but in all her glory. The only difference being that her sword was now plainly visible on the outside of her dress but still ‘shoulder-holstered’ for ease of access. The view of the sword gave Walezia an idea.

“One last test young lady. Show me your sword skills. I am a fair swordsman myself.”

Drustan squinted uncertainly.

“Can I have your word sire that it is but fencing. No strikes and no blood.”

“Of course you have my word. Get me my sword; it’s on the weapon rack behind you.”

Drustan turned and recognised another Toledo blade. As he presented it flat palmed to Walezia, he commented, “another Toledo blade, just like mine - look.”

So saying, his own sword flashed with lightning speed and appeared in Drustina’s hand as if by magic. He reversed it and presented it similarly flat palmed for the King’s inspection. Walezia smiled.

“You handled that well my lady. Shall I call you my lady?”

“You might as well - I can’t hide these any more, can I?”

He cupped his breasts and pulled a wry smile as the King handed his sword back to him.

“Very well my lady. I will go easy with you. I feel uncomfortable fencing with a maid. However, I had better warn my guards and invite them to watch or they will think there is mayhem abroad.”

Drustina reluctantly agreed but extracted a further promise from King Walezia.

“Very well sire, I have no objections to witnesses to my sword skills but they must not know I am Drustan Scar-arse.”

“That’s fair comment Drustina, I’ll agree to that.”

King Walezia invited the guards into his chamber and explained that he was testing the maid’s skills. The guards grinned and nodded for they expected a rout. King Walezia struck his defence and challenged Drustina.

“On guard my lady.”

It took but a dozen strokes before the King had to yield and he stared, shocked at Drustina’s speed. The Guards also stood silent in disbelief. Before speaking to Drustina he dismissed the guards back to their duty.

“My God, mistress. I can see now how that Norseman met his end. You fight like a lion!”

“A lioness, my liege. Look at me. None would take me for a man ... or a lion.”

The King’s eyes softened as the beautiful maid whipped her sword back into its shoulder scabbard with uncanny ease and precision. Then she slumped with despondency for her duality worried her immensely. The King found himself feeling a fatherly affection for the maid and he rested his hand on her shoulder as she sat slumped at the table.

“Do not fear Drustan or Drustina, your secret is safe with me. So now tell me all you learned in Carthage.”

Drustina settled back in the settee and related all she had learned, seen and done in Carthage. The King listened as she finally suggested Aiofe’s plan to supply Malta through the winter.

“I think we’d better go and get your sister here now. Is she to know of your becoming a warrior princess?”

Drustina smiled shyly.

“I’m hardly a princess my liege. I was born to common boat-builders and my ways are wild and tempestuous. Ask my sister when she comes.”

“I’m sorry my dear. If you are to travel freely and yet present as such a lovely maid you will need status to protect your rights.”

Drustina let out a snort of amusement.

“My sword will protect my rights my liege. It always has and it always will.”

“But what of when men try to have their way with you - in the bedroom perchance?”

“You saw my dagger sire. If my sword will not deter them, there is still the subterfuge of the knife. It was this humble knife that did for Blueface, not my wonderful sword.”

Walezia smiled for the maid certainly carried her dagger in an unusual place under her fulsome but firm breasts and across her lower ribs. The sheath for her dagger formed part of a self-made ‘bra’ band, always well hidden but never closer to hand. Drustina demonstrated just how handy the arrangement was as she whipped the dagger out of its sheath and presented the point chest high to King Walezia. He grinned at the sheer speed and precision of the dagger’s presentation to his chest. If he had been attacking the maid in salacious earnest, the blade would have been through his heart in a flash. It was a deadly counter to any unsuspecting attacker. The demonstration gave King Walezia much food for thought but it also proved the girl’s good intentions.

She could have assassinated him there and then if she had wished for her hands were lightning quick. They exchanged smiles then chatted about Aiofe’s plan until she appeared in the doorway.

Walezia turned to her as Aiofe’s eyes fell upon Drustan’s appearance. She realised that the missing gown meant that Drustan must have revealed himself to the King. Walezia confirmed this with his first words to her.

“Well Aiofe, my dear Celtiberian emissary, so what do you think of your new sister?”

Aiofe turned to Drustan with curiosity writ large in her knowing smile.

“Is it to be then brother? Are you really going to join us over this side?”

Drustina shrugged and sighed philosophically.

“It seems I have no choice sister. My tits are growing with every bloody moon and my arse gets curvier every time I sit on it.”

Aiofe turned to the King.

“I hope your majesty is not going to spread this miracle abroad. These one-god priests are the very devil with their persecutions.”

“The maid is too valuable to me Aiofe. Besides her sword and her dagger, her ship is also priceless. Your idea is a good one. If I can alleviate the threat of starvation here on my little island kingdom, then we have a firm base to address any threats from Carthage.”

“Are you going to support my betrothed then?” Aiofe pressed.

“I want to Aiofe but at present I am caught in a trap, a food trap. Drustina has told me enough of the slaughter in Carthage. The man Mutas must be a monster to have murdered even his own father. I have made my mind up as regards supporting Magab but I am ham-strung by the food issue. Until I have enough grain to feed the people I am singing castrato as far as helping your betrothed Magab.”

“So who is to go back to Iberia and make the plea?” Drustina asked.

“Well you for certain and I thought Arina and Torvel as you have suggested. If Mutas’s spies can still report that Aiofe and Magab are my ‘guests’ then he will be complacent. You have been inadvertently clever Drustina, for everybody is looking for a man not a maid. In that guise, nobody will know you have left for Appotel’s kingdom. We have only to pretend that the Angry Mermaid is secure in a covered dock and nobody will notice her departing at the dead of night. I can easily knock up a mock of your ship to pass as her double in a dark shed. That is my part in the deceit and it is the easy part.”

“Thank you my liege,” Aiofe agreed, “so who is to pay for this grain?”

“I will have to strip my treasury. It will leave me and my people poor until we can recover what the thief Mutas owes us for the grain we have purchased from Carthage already and yet he refuses to deliver.”

“I’m sure my fiancé Magab will refund it sire, if we ever get his throne back.” Aiofe replied.

“Well that’s another issue for another day,” Drustina observed, “for now let’s solve the grain issue.”

And so they did.

Torvel and Arina joined Drustina the following night along with two Maltese representatives. Aiofe was allowed down to the quay in the darkness and she hugged her erstwhile companions desperately before they took their leave and set off into the stormy darkness. The Maltese seaman was a ship master who, along with his colleagues, had always maintained that it was not possible to take on the Mistral when the wind was in its pomp. He was distinctly nervous as Torvel and Drustina slipped the moorings, span the Mermaid around on a sixpence and set off between the harbour moles to face what was to the Maltese a tempest. Then, when he saw the girl Arina casually attending to the sheets, he felt ashamed and joined her to lend his weight. As the sails tensioned, the Mermaid sprang to her bridle and set off across the waves like a racehorse to the fences. The emissary sat huddled in the bow bemoaning his sea-sickness. He knew nothing of ships nor navigation or storms but he was responsible for the money that King Walezia had entrusted to him to pay for the grain. He simply sat huddled in the tiny cabin that they had fashioned behind the high stem post to serve as a modest shelter. It also served to dissipate breaking seas. Drustina had often considered such a feature but never had time to fashion one. Sadly, the bow was that part of the Mermaid that pitched and plunged the most, so the emissary was pretty much incapacitated. He simply lay bemoaning his discomfort and periodically vomiting over the side. Drustina eyed him with some amusement.

‘They should have chosen somebody with ‘sea-legs’, she smirked to herself.

After a day of tempestuous seas with the Mermaid pounding at the waves, they finally cleared the Cape Cranitola and they were now exposed to the full force of the Mistral’s anger.

They shortened sail but Drustina refused to slacken the sheets and the Mermaid threw herself at the towering waves in a veritable frenzy of determination to maintain her westering.

Several times, the Maltese captain gaped in terror at a particularly monstrous wave and begged Drustina to slacken sail.

Contrary to what most Mediterranean thought of women during those times, Drustina simply watched the sea with a calm measured determination as Torvel and Arina slept alternately at the sheets ready at any instant to heed Drustina’s shout. The Maltese captain marvelled at the deadly determination that seemed to motivate these demons of the northern seas.

‘If anybody could handle these terrible storms,’ he concluded, ‘it was these cold-blooded, pale eyed denizens of the ice and snows’ that he believed covered the whole of the northern seas. He was right of course but his geography was out by thirty degrees of latitude.

Throughout the day, the Mistral slowly relented and the two Maltese found their wits.

The ship master eventually found it in himself to learn from the tall, steely eyed, maid with the blond hair who seemed affected neither by sea, wind or cold. As he familiarised himself with the ship and her apparel, he soon grew to love the strange ship. The love affair was cemented on the second day when Torvel was standing in the bow and he spotted unidentified land. Drustina called the Maltese captain to identify it. The man stood staring disbelievingly at the familiar cliffs then finally confirmed them to be Capo Teulada, the extreme southern tip of Sardinia. He wagged his head disbelievingly.

“But Drustina! We are only a day and a half out from Malta! What manner of ship is this?” Our fastest carracks take four days to make this point and that’s with a fair wind.”

“D’you believe me now Wallesta? I promised your King a quick passage and we’re on time.”

“You never told me what your anticipated your passage time to be.”

“Six days at most, to the northern Pillar of Hercules.”

Captain Wallesta’s jaw worked silently as he tried to make sense of the figures.

“But that’s, that’s two hundred stadia in a day!”

“Two hundred and fifty actually. We’re taking a more northerly route to avoid the African coast. If we were disabled we would fetch up on their rocks and smashed to pieces. I’m being cautious.”

“What, you call the last day and a half cautious? I have been bounced and pummelled like a turd in a piss pot!”

Drustina could not help but smile. It was true, she had pushed her beloved Mermaid a little hard but she was determined to show these conceited middle sea sailors what real seamanship was about. She caught Arina’s eye as the girl struggled to contain her laughter. Wallesta’s crude nautical expression had completely thrown her. Eventually she burst out laughing and the jocular mood quickly spread until a sail appeared from around the headland of Capo Teulada.

Drustina turned once again to Wallesta, “will that be a friendly sail?”

“It should be,” Wallesta opined. “We have no issues with Sardinia. D’you want to stop and hail them?”

“We have no need,” Drustina replied, “we have ample water and food and we know exactly where we are.”

“It’s usually good manners to exchange courtesies here in the middle sea,” Wallesta advised.

Drustina paused thoughtfully then canvassed her crew.

She herself was undecided but she asked each their feelings. Arina, like Drustina, was born of the piratical northern seas and lived all their lives with Norse raiders. Caution and circumspection were their primary tools of diplomacy. Conversely, Torvel had mixed feelings while Wallesta was more than keen to exchange courtesies. The casting vote fell to the emissary who, being a diplomat and a scholar suggested they should at least approach within hailing distance. This had also been Drustina’s considered position, so she acceded to the emissary’s suggestion. Without further ado, she swung the tiller sharp round while Torvel hauled the sheets. In moments the Mermaid was hurtling towards the newcomer. As the Mermaid slammed into the short steep seas, Wallesta recognised the approaching vessel.

“It’s the guard ship for Caglia, she must be coming back from a patrol - look she’s unshipping her sweeps.”

“Does that mean she intends to pursue us or what?” Drustina asked.

“I don’t know but we’ll soon find out - she’s turning to hail us.”

Drustina stood on into the northerly wind staying close hauled until she was sure of the other ship's intentions. Eventually a voice hailed them across the water.

“Ahoy! What ship?”

Drustina called out. “Angry Mermaid on passage from Malta to the Pillars of Hercules.”

There was a long pause as the other ship’s crew seemed to be consulting amongst themselves. Finally they spoke again.

“It is a difficult passage for such a time of year. Are you in trouble?”

“No. It was a straightforward passage.”

“But the storm, the Mistral, where did you shelter?”

“We sought no shelter. We travel direct without hindrance.”

There was another long pause then the next question came.

“What manner of craft is that?”

“One from the northern seas.”

“It is very fast!”

“Yes, and seaworthy. What do you want of us?”

“Are you going to land in Sardinia?”

“No. Unless we are wrecked. We are bound to the west even as we speak.”

“There is another storm brewing.” The Sardinia Picket boat cautioned.

“We’ll manage. She’s a sound ship.”

“May we suggest you take shelter?”

“We haven’t time. We have urgent business with the Turdetani and King Appotel.”

“We would ask that you take communiqués for him from our city.”

Drustina turned to the others.

“What d’you think?”

The emissary spoke.

“It seems a bit of a coincidence that they suddenly have letters to be sent.”

“It’s not impossible,” Drustina observed, “the straits have only just reopened. There are many countries that would seize the opportunity to treat with the Turdetani. They hold the key to the western sea.”

“Do you trust them?” Torvel asked.

Drustina looked to Wallesta for guidance and the Maltese captain shrugged.

“We’ve never been at loggerheads before though they’ve usually just waved us by unless we were going to Caglia. I can’t see any reason for their wishing to detain us. We could at least go to Caglia and stand off until they bring their letters.”
Drustina turned again to the emissary.

“What d’you think?”

He stared thoughtfully at the guard boat then wagged his head.

“Letters of such importance are usually accompanied by an emissary, just like me. I suspect they might want to send a courier as well. Is there room?”

“Plenty of room,” Drustina observed. “Provided they supply victuals for him as well, we can accommodate him.”

“We should charge them for the passage,” Arina added. “This ship is not a charity.”

Drustina smiled.

“You’ve been listening to Aiofe for too long girl. There’s such a thing as good will.”

“Huh!” Arina snorted. “You’ve changed your tune. I remember when your right hand didn’t trust your left hand!”

“What if it’s a trap?” Torvel asked. “What if we take an emissary and he tries to kill us.”

“He’d have to kill five of us,” Wallesta calculated, “that would take some doing.”

“Unless he poisoned us, like we poisoned the drunken Vikings.” Arina cautioned.

“Enough procrastination - let us vote on it.” Torvel finished.

They voted and all five decided to accept the entreatment. They signalled to the guard ship that they would proceed to Caglia. The guard ship acknowledged and once again Drustina revealed the Mermaid’s paces. They arrived off Caglia at least an hour ahead of the guard ship that had rowed furiously all the way. There they had anchored off the port to await developments. The guard ship swept past them and a couple of hours later a small picket boat emerged from the town. The Angry Mermaid weighed its anchor and took precautions as the picket craft approached. The bargaining started and within the hour the Sardinians had agreed to send only one emissary with their missives and entreatments. Drustina also extracted the now unusual concession in the new ‘one god’ religious climate of having that emissary be a woman. Drustina demanded this by declaring herself and Arina to be women and she would not feel safe with a strange man aboard her ship. The Sardinians reluctantly agreed to this for they desperately wanted to renew contacts with Appotel.

The picket boat returned to the town to collect extra food and discuss the unusual request for a woman emissary. As the boat disappeared between the harbour moles, Arina turned to Drustina.

“You’d have thought they would have brought the food with them.”

“I don’t think they expected us to agree. I’m really pleased they’ve agreed to their emissary being a woman. I really wouldn’t feel safe with a strange man and I really don’t want to have to be forced to use my sword.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed to any of this or even coming here if the Mermaid had been a slower ship.” Torvel added. “That guard ship could have easily overwhelmed us.”

The others all nodded vigorously and Drustina smiled ruefully. They had come to rely an awful lot on the Mermaid’s charms and miracles.

Eventually the little picket boat put alongside the Mermaid and Torvel joined Wallesta at the ship’s gunwales with drawn swords.
The lady emissary looked somewhat alarmed at first, but Drustina quickly reassured her with her most feminine and beatific smile. She helped the lady aboard and made her comfortable beside the Maltese emissary while her food and luggage were stored safely. The two emissaries soon fell to discussing the new order that had ensued with the re-opening of the straits. Drustina gave a wide beaming smile when she heard the lady gasp at some delectable titbit that the Maltese emissary revealed. The lady was staring at Drustina disbelievingly and Drustina could readily understand what she had just learned. It was hardly a secret and frankly, she was beginning not to care. Anybody wishing to take issue with it had to get past her sword and that was getting better with every passing year.

Later, as Arina steered the ship on a steady beat with a favourable wind, the lady approached Drustina cautiously as she and Captain Wallesta were making their beds amongst the spare sails ready for an afternoon sleep.

“So you are the one, the one who led the Iberians in battle against the Barbary pirates.”

Drustina nodded wearily, all she wanted to do was sleep. She motioned her head towards Arina chatting at the helm with Torvel.

“It was not I who led them, I only commanded this ship. If you need the full story about the battle ask those two, Torvel was on one of the other fast Iberian ships while little Arina was aboard this ship with me. Arina has been with me since we left Demetae. Everything I have endured, so has that child, except my sojourn ashore in Carthage. Now, please, both Captain Wallesta and I need to sleep. Opportunities for sleep are scarce and we have a tricky landfall sometime in the night or early morning.”

The lady emissary was nothing if not diplomatic and she recognised the crew’s need to sleep whenever the opportunity arose. Even the Maltese emissary was making himself comfortable in the bows. The lady made her apologies and left to pick Arina’s brains. What she learned taught her new respect for Drustina, the strange maid whose reputation was spreading throughout the Western Mediterranean. It was an amazing story and would provide her with entertaining material at every diplomatic table in the Mediterranean.

The Angry Mermaid sailed doggedly through the evening and night as her crew worked around the watches. With dawn, they made landfall and by noon they had docked in Cartagena to despatch a fast horse to Appotel’s court. It was a testament to the Mermaid’s seaworthiness that both emissaries chose to continue on to the Pillars of Hercules by sea instead of taking the overland route. It was also a testament to her speed that she arrived at Gibral before Appotel’s herald who had been despatched immediately on the King’s learning of Drustina’s return to Iberia. Two days later, a flotilla of fast ‘Mermaid’ class warships were racing back to Malta with the first consignment of grain. The larger ships were soon to follow after loading in Almeria and Cartagena. By the midwinter solstice, Malta’s granaries were healthy and contentment reigned again on the Island.

On the second voyage of the Mermaid, Drustina had joined with the first ‘big ship’ convoy and she arrived contentedly between the harbour moles in the company of several fat lumbering merchant ships loaded to the gunwales with grain.

As she slipped into the harbour, she looked up at the battlements to see a very contented King looking down accompanied by a relieved sister and future Brother-in-law. Drustina and Arina had returned for the second time and now the new trade was established. For that second voyage of the Mermaid, Torvel and Captain Walessa had remained in Iberia to organise the regular trade between Malta and the Celtiberian tribes and act as agents for future trading.

Also on that second voyage to bring the Mermaid back to Malta, two new young acolytes had been chosen from a thousand Celtiberian hopefuls to learn seamanship from the acknowledged master or - as Appotel ruefully accepted now - ‘the acknowledged mistress’. They would learn the mysteries by accompanying Drustina and Arina back to Malta.

Drustina stepped ashore and fell tearfully into Aiofe’s arms as the issue of feeding the Island had at last been resolved. Aiofe was slightly taken aback. Her younger brother had never been an emotional person but now her newly become ‘sister’ seemed to evince all the qualities of a girl, a sister and a very emotional sister at that. As Drustina wiped her eyes, Aiofe whispered in her ear.

“I hope those are tears of happiness sister.”

Drustina croaked an emotional ‘yes’ and finally recovered her composure.

King Walezia noticed her tear stained eyes and asked, “Are you alright, darling?”

Arina looked up with surprise at the King’s words then stared at Drustina, her erstwhile commander. But a few months before the individual before her had been a companion, a hero, a protector. Now in his stead there stood this weepy girl. Aiofe caught Arina’s immature confusion and reached out to her.

“Take courage child. If this is difficult for you, think how hard it is for Drustina. Now she must learn all the guile and tact of a girl if she is to avoid the dangers of womanhood.”

“But she still has her sword,” Arina argued. “She can still gut an enemy with a few quick strokes.”

“She may not always have her sword child. There are times and places were a woman would not be expected to bear a sword. There she might find danger.”

Arina smiled and wagged her head at Aiofe’s words.

“I can’t see Drustina ever foregoing her sword. It is as closely attached to her as her right arm.”

Aiofe smiled indulgently at the young girl and hugged her close as she whispered in her ear: “You are young, girl! When your womanly heart takes over from your child’s head you will understand how and when a girl might lay down her sword if only for a few short hours. It is then that women must learn guile, tact, discretion and patience. It is then that women are vulnerable. You have had years and some growing time yet to learn those skills but Drustina has been flung into the cauldron of womanhood with but few skills to address it.”

“But the King called him 'darling'. A few moons ago, Drustan would have skewered him like a piece of meat for that. Now Drustina smiles like a winsome maid. It is hard for me to understand!”

“We none of us understand it, Arina,” Aiofe sighed, “but I for one prefer Drustina to Drustan. Drustina talks to me and she shares her sisterliness with me. Do you not like her?”

Arina frowned for she was confused. She had so worshipped and admired the boy soldier who had led her and cared for her safety so effectively through so much danger.

“I miss Drustan.”

Aiofe nodded and gave Arina another hug as she explained, “Drustan is still there Arina. You have seen her pee like a maid and she is modest about it, but when she chooses she can still stand to piss like a man. You may have not seen her man parts because Drustina shows you respect. I have seen them, I am after all, still her big sister and she turns to me constantly for wisdom in womanly affairs. I have even helped her when Damara calls - for my once-brother now faces a tougher battle than ever the ones he solved by sword. Give Drustina time Arina. Be kind to her and you will have a stalwart companion for all your life. And by the way, King Walezia assures me that our comrade has not lost any of her swordsmanship. She can still protect you as Drustan always did.”

Arina was still puzzled.

“But if she has man parts, why does she not be a man. Why does she cry and go all weepy like a maid?”

For a moment Aiofe was stumped then she realised she had the best answer a maid could give.

“Drustina chooses to be a maid because maids have more fun. You have seen how stupid boys can be when they are trying to out-do one another. It takes years for a boy to garner wisdom and become a man. Ask any old man that; ask any king that has had to learn the skills of diplomacy and leadership. They will tell you it takes years of tutelage and learning to succeed.

We maids learn these skills earlier because we have to and our bodies dictate it. We become women long before they become men. Normally we do not have the wherewithal to withstand the strength of men so we must use wit and compassion when seeking to win our ends. Drustina’s skill with weapons has become a double edged sword. She will find it hard at times to resort to womanly wiles when she also has her sword at hand to shorten the fight. I am sure Drustina prefers the company of maids and the life of a maid because it brings her peace and contentment.

Whether she is Drustan or Drustina, she or he is still your friend, Arina, and she will always love you for the wonderful person you are. Just make sure you always love her for the wonderful person she is. I still love her and I always will but she’s got a longer furrow to plough than anyone I know. Now come along — look, Drustina goes with King even now to share the burdens of state. You and I can choose to take our toilet and enjoy womanly things before we join them for dinner but they are saddled with politics even before Drustina can wash. Be assured, Drustina has endured all the privations that you have endured aboard the Mermaid since going to Iberia and like us she can no longer do as the men do and wash naked in view to others. Yet now she must make her report to the King and finish her duties before she can join us and bathe. She has a double burden now. Hers will never be an easy life Arina. If she is to win back the land of our fathers, she will always have to work and fight before attending to her own pleasures. She will have a hard lonely life for many years yet, Arina. If you wish to be her friend and companion, you must prepare for that hard road.”

Arina frowned. “But if the King wants Drustina’s opinion, will he not want yours? You are every bit as clever as Drustina.”

“Yes Arina, he will want my opinions; and he will get them but not before I have bathed! Come, there is little time to dinner. After dinner I will talk to the King with Magab at my side. Drustina will probably bathe then and she will be glad for it.”
“I will help her bathe. We have often done it before.”

“Well done young lady. That will help her come to terms with her new-found femininity.”

At dinner, Drustina once again disgraced herself by declaring she needed a wash and that she should have had one before dining.
Aiofe exchanged a knowing smile with Arina. Girls hated privation and Drustina was beginning to understand why. Her female parts had made it known that they had to be kept clean. Instead of bathing first she had been so preoccupied with the issues of state she had ignored her own discomfort. Now she regretted it. She shifted uncomfortably on her chair and frowned as the other diners took their ease at the table. She excused herself before the last food was served and the King frowned until his Queen explained discreetly. Then he smiled and nodded understanding. He watched the maid stalking uncomfortably from the hall and wagged his head with amusement. He caught Aiofe’s eye and announced.

“So she’s still coming to terms with it my lady.”

Aiofe nodded and motioned to Arina to go and assist her best friend and companion.

The rest of the assembly continued eating and taking their ease as the King chatted with Aiofe. Several of the King’s advisors strained to listen to the pair but Aiofe deliberately kept her voice low. She was describing her ideas to win back her fiancé’s kingdom.

In the hypocaust, Drustina embraced the heat as it threaded its comfort through her muscles. It had been a long time since she had savoured the comfort of such warmth and she lay on a bench almost asleep while Arina rubbed oil into her soft smooth skin.

She felt Arina’s fingers pause as they explored her numerous scars but the young girl knew not to linger where young fingers should not go and Drustina smiled inwardly as she sensed Arina hesitating. Finally the child whispered.

“Do your scars still hurt?”

“Sometimes Arina, sometimes if I am cold or wet.”

“Like when we are on the Mermaid.”

“Exactly then, when the wind cuts and the rain or spray enervates with cold, yes my scars let me know they are there.”

“And you are not yet in your sixteenth summer.”

Drustina fell to an introspective silence. It was painfully true, not yet sixteen and yet saddled with all the stings and pains of a veteran warrior. The worst of it was that she knew not whither she was bound. Now that Aiofe was with her beau there only remained to somehow secure Magab’s kingdom and then what? 'What was there for her, what was there for Arina?'

She slumped into semi-torpor as the questions seemed unanswerable. How would she ever win back her homeland since now, as a maid, she would never become the powerful warrior she had expected to be?

‘Would she ever be able to swing Blueface’s sword or would it always remain denied to her, even though it was hers by right?'

There were just too many questions and too few answers. Her head ached. She suddenly tired of Arina’s ministrations and dismissed her like some servant girl, an act that hurt Arina as she left her heroine alone on the bench.

Drustina lay on in a troubled sleep and it was Aiofe who found her at the midnight hour.

Aiofe was worried to find her sister curled up naked on a bench in the now cold hypocaust. She slept with her hand tightly grasping her sword beside her head and her travel stained gown as a pillow. Aiofe crept up to the silent form and sat quietly on the bench for several moments hoping that her newfound sister would wake of her own accord. To Aiofe’s disappointment she didn’t. Drustina was muttering in her sleep and twitching nervously. What worried Aiofe more was the tear stains on Drustina’s cheeks. Aiofe, long accustomed to her departed brother’s troubled moods, suspected now that her newfound sister most probably suffered the same hurts. Aiofe felt compelled to wake her.

‘Gently though, Aiofe’ she told herself, ’ever so gently.’ Aiofe was fully alert to the dangers of rousing the once-boy Drustan from his troubled sleeps. Those same perils probably still existed with Drustina. If woken violently or suddenly, Drustina might well rear up with a nervous yell then strike out at lightning speed with her lethal sword that still lay immediately to hand, its hilt still lying firmly in her tense grasp. Drustina had never slept easily since the fright of killing Blueface.

Aiofe stared nervously then she had a brainwave. She started to sing - a long-remembered lullaby that her mother had sung to all the children. Aiofe had bitter-sweet memories of the tune for it brought recollections of her beautiful mother, the mother the twins would never ever remember, the mother who died but a few months after having them. Aiofe remembered. Aiofe remembered all the hurt and loss that the whole clan felt when Herenoie had died suddenly and unexpectedly. And when she, Aiofe, had been forced to join with her grandmother Giana and try to replace the irreplaceable loss. Softly, she started to first hum the tune then, as her memory served her, she found the words and quietly sang the whole song. Aiofe was delighted to see a slight smile wrap itself around her sleeping sister’s lips. She saw the sword hand relax and the white knuckle gain colour again as tension obviously flowed away. Eventually Drustina slowly uncurled and gave a soft yawn. Aiofe whispered softly.

“Wake up sleepyhead. Don’t let the larks be always first.”

It was an old family saying that Drustina’s grandmother had always used to rouse the smaller children and Drustina’s eyes opened as the memory caused her smile to spread. Aiofe finally concluded it was safe to touch her sister. She was pleased and gratified when Drustina responded to her caress by pressing her cheek to the back of Aiofe’s hand. Then the younger ‘girl’ woke with a start.

“What hour is it? The sun is not yet up!”

Aiofe grinned as Drustina’s eyes blinked.

“It’s not time for the sun to get up. It is only the middle hour of night. You should be abed in your chamber, not stretched out on the hypocaust benches. The furnace was extinguished hours ago, are you not cold?”

Drustina slowly realised she was cold and she sat up with mild alarm. Aiofe could not help but notice her ‘sister’s’ nipples were erect as also was the incongruous manhood that sprang from her rounded loins. She stepped to the rail and gathered a spare gown from the rack.

“You’d best make yourself respectable sister, or should I call you brother with that!”

Drustina peered down and gasped then frowned as she quickly flung the proffered gown over her shoulders.

“Sorry sis. I can’t help it. It’s usually there when I wake. Sorry.”

Aiofe did not know what to say. She was as much at a loss as Drustina with this newfound aberration. She at least, however, was sympathetic.

“Has Walezia shown you a chamber yet?”

“Uuuhmm no! He hasn’t. Where am I to sleep?” She asked as a yawn engulfed her maidenly features.

She stretched like a lithesome cat and her breasts sprang out as her arms stretched upwards. Aiofe realised her sibling would be an unwitting temptress if she walked abroad in the palace at night dressed as she was in a simple gown.

“You’d best sleep in my chamber tonight and we’ll get you sorted in the morning. Come let’s abed.”

Drustina frowned.

“You mean sleep in your bed, us two, together? What about this?” Drustina motioned to her swollen manhood. “Others are bound to talk! What would Magab say?”

“Nobody need know. You can get up early in the morning.”

“It’s early in the morning now sister. If I slept now, I would sleep ‘til noon! I’m shattered!”

“Alright then, but you can’t remain here, not like this, what happens when the servants come to light the fires and the palace menfolk come to bathe? One of them is bound to try something stupid and you’d be forced to use your sword. Then there would endless trouble when you injured them or worse.”

Reluctantly, Drustina acceded to Aiofe’s suggestion and allowed herself to be dragged to Aiofe’s chambers. The maid appointed to Aiofe’s service found the pair embraced in the morning. Fortunately she was not upset by Drustina’s condition. The maidenly beauty that Drustina enjoyed not only attracted men to her but it also made women feel safe. In Drustina’s ferocious blade, the women felt they had a genuine champion. She smiled at Aiofe and declared that she had no fear of Drustina’s duality and Drustina felt she had escaped any censure. It seemed that the new religion was particularly concerned with the separation of men
and women. Drustina had little time for such lunacy but ‘when in Rome’....
The sisters luxuriated in a bath together and Aiofe despatched the maid as they savoured the hot water. It was a perfect opportunity for Aiofe to find out more about her sibling’s painful duality. A tearful Drustina spent a full hour unloading her despair and yet acknowledging that she was indulgent in her sensuality.

“I know what it is like sister when my body enjoys my frenzy. That is the one and only consolation. For a boy it’s all before and for a girl it’s all after - for me it is both and all completion, everywhere and all over.”

Aiofe smiled a little jealously. It seemed that Drustina would have it all when her time came to choose, but for that dual privilege, she had to pay the price of condemnation by the priests of the new ‘one god order’. Aiofe had already heard some of the more bigoted priests declare her brother/sister to be ‘something from the Devil’, an abomination in the eyes of their lord. She knew her beloved Drustina would have a hard road to walk for her duality was now common knowledge.

Always, Drustina would have to be on her guard.

To Aiofe’s satisfaction however, Drustina was more than happy to dress in a gown whilst resident at the palace. The issues would arise when she wore jerkin and britches to sail her beloved Mermaid. Having slept late and bathed long, they missed breakfast and appeared for lunch. Magab and Walezia’s eyes turned appreciatively when they appeared. Drustina smiled inwardly as she noted the men’s reactions but her heart softened when Aiofe flung herself into Magab’s arms.

‘At least my sister has found happiness,’ thought Drustina, ‘and that mean’s my task is almost done.’

Drustina wondered if Magab was actually going to try and recover his kingdom and on this question he received confirmation at that very meal. Magab was determined to regain his rightful throne!
As Drustina sat between Magab and Arina, she listened to Aiofe present her ideas for the recovery of Carthage.

“My Lord Walezia, we do not have a huge army so we must use subterfuge. We must do what the Norsemen did to our nation. They assembled in strength at one point and overwhelmed that place before moving forward. The defenders cannot defend every little bay or rock, so they can never defend in depth. It’s the age old advantage of ships. The only way they can defend effectively against us is to use their navy but there we have the advantage. King Appotel has intimated he will ally himself with us because of what Drustina and I did for them in Iberia against Portega and the Barbary pirates. Thus we will have a more powerful navy and we can plan accordingly.”

“Agreed my wise maid,” Walezia concurred, “but what of the land war? Mutas has a large standing army and at some stage we will have to face it.”

Aiofe smiled. She remembered her brother’s subterfuge when using the secret passage into Pilus’s castle and she described the events. After hearing of them Walezia smiled at Drustina again.

“D’you know Mistress Drustina, every time we come to discussing you, I hear of yet another adventure, another escapade? You never cease to amaze me and amuse!”

Drustina blushed like a maid and Walezia had yet another insight into the confusion that beset his strange guest. Where once there was a wild and tempestuous boy, who flung himself into battle with total disregard for his life, there now was a beautiful maid, who sat at his table, blushed and wept like any maid would. The only visible evidence of the ‘boy’ was his male parts and the very real and permanent scars.

Walezia found himself privately thinking, ‘It’s a good job the boy never received any disfiguring scars to his face for such scars on a maid would forever compromise her chances of happiness.’

Then Walezia had to correct himself violently.

‘There was not just a maid under that gown; there was also a man and a deadly swordsman to boot! What would be her definition of happiness and how would she find it?’

Once again, Walezia found himself considering the plight of his most welcome guest and wondering whatever would become of the boy/girl - man/woman. Whatever the case, Walezia decided that he for one would always provide the maid with sanctuary, especially from some of the priests who even yet, after all the maid had done for the island Kingdom, still sought to try the woman for a sorceress.

As the rest of the diners discussed tactics, Drustina sat silent. She had ideas but had learned long ago from the wise Pedoro that it paid to keep them secret in large company. Even as the others spoke, Drustina, ever the paranoid cynic, kept her thoughts strictly to herself. It remained for her to speak with Walezia privately.

That opportunity came that afternoon as Drustina and Arina were sat by the window, and combing each other’s hair. There was a soft knock on the door and King Walezia’s face appeared. The ‘girls’ stood and Arina curtsied, while Drustina forgot herself momentarily and bowed. Walezia smiled and joined them by the window.

“Carry on combing, we can talk while you do it.”

Drustina smiled and returned to Arina’s hair as they considered styles. Walezia bided his time. He had nothing to do that afternoon or evening and he wanted to sound Drustina out. With that, there was a second knock and when Drustina opened the door she was both pleased and surprised to see Aiofe.

“Come in.” Drustina chuckled.”There’ll be a full council here before long.”

Aiofe entered and stopped momentarily as she recognised King Walezia. She smiled and intimated her thought: “My liege, I see you also felt my sister was too silent at the table today.”

The King smiled self-consciously and nodded, “she gave her thoughts away by her reticence. I wanted to see what thoughts she had for recovering Magab’s throne.”
Aiofe turned to Drustina and smiled, “I’ll do Arina’s hair while you talk. I’d like to hear your thoughts as well.”
Drustina smiled then frowned as there was a third knock on the door.

“By the Gods! Arina and I are popular girls today.”

She opened the door half expecting to find Magab and she wasn’t disappointed.

“You as well! Ah well, come in.”

After the inevitable expressions of surprised pleasure, the two men settled on Drustina’s bed as Drustina sat with her back to the window while Aiofe and Arina did her hair.

King Walezia encouraged her to reveal her thoughts, “so Drustina, what do you think?”

“Our land forces are too small for a pitched battle, but we all know that and it follows that we shall have to use subterfuge. The question is what subterfuges?”

“Yes Drustina, we realise that, so what subterfuges are you thinking of. I think we pretty much explored most of them.”

“Most, but not all. You discussed mainly hit and run attacks from the sea on the forts and strong points. The towns and stuff.”

“Yes the idea is to keep him on the defensive, always uncertain of where we’ll strike. The navy is ideal for that.”

“Yes. That bit’s good but it would lead to destruction of towns, people’s homes, public places, market places and all the other buildings. That would serve to antagonise the people against you Magab, as well as Mutas. Nobody wants their homes destroyed.”
“But you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.” Walezia added.

“I don’t want to make an omelette. I just want to pick cherries.”

“Go on.” Aiofe prompted her, “this sounds as though you have another idea.”
Drustina nodded and continued. “Why don’t we reverse the tables on Mutas? He tried to starve you into acceptance of his

sovereignty in Carthage so why don’t you try to starve him out, or more effectively, make the people go hungry?”

“If the people go hungry they might just as readily blame Magab, - just like my people wanted to blame Magab and Aiofe for our
problems,” Walezia objected.

“Yes, but we got around that by using ships to bring grain from Appotel’s Kingdom. When you were talking about battle at lunch you were only seeing ships as weapons of war to carry soldiers and attack at will. King Appotel and our sister Queen Mabina now have a huge fleet of trading ships. I saw them in Gibral when I was there. I know for certain that Mabina will move mountains to help me and Aiofe.”

Aiofe smiled as she began to get an inkling of her little ‘sister’s’ strategy.

“So are you saying destroy their grain and then as the people demand food, we supply it?”

“Basically yes. The plan will take longer to put together but it’s more effective in the long term and it doesn’t destroy the towns or the roads. What d’you think? We can land anywhere at will with small flotillas and attack the granaries while the main fleet keeps Mutas locked up in Carthage. We could even steal the grain and put it aboard our own ships for Mutas’s army will always be somewhere else. A fleet of warships and merchant ships gives us that extra option. Mutas owes us for the grain your merchants have already paid for anyway. Once the people have no bread they will soon become rebellious. No nation is more than four days from revolution when the food runs out.”

“Who will provide the intelligence about the location of Mutas’s army?” Walezia asked.

“Magab’s guerrillas. They live in the mountains and they move freely. They are an excellent source of accurate information and most long tails will have been cut by now,” Drustina replied.

“That’s a bit cryptic. Explain yourself,” Magab remarked.

“Long tails,” Drustina repeated. “Family ties. People for whom the rebels have feelings and ties. Mutas could try to threaten families who have sons in the hills but it will backfire on him in the main. If Magab lets those who feel they have a long tail go back to their families to serve as a sixth column, the rest of his supporters can work more effectively as fifth columnists. Information will be vital to us so the bigger and more widespread the sixth column network, the more effective our campaign will be.

The 'Mermaid' class of ships will give us all the speed and flexibility we need to hit hard and fast wherever we can and it is safe for us to do so.

“Your naval strategy is good but now you have a strategy on the land that is effective but slow. It might take two years to complete. The secret is to keep the countryside on our side while the townspeople go hungry. The best factor to this strategy is that our immediate lines of communication are short while our trading links are returning to what they were before the Berber pirates declared their war on the Straits of Gibral. Malta will benefit as it always has because it sits at the crossroads of many trade routes. You, King Walezia, will see your kingdom prosper if we win this battle.”

King Walezia gave a wry, knowing smile.

“You’re absolutely right - if we win. But if we lose...”

“Then I lose my kingdom,” Magab interjected as Aiofe added her argument.
“My Lord Walezia, you still have your new alliances with The Barbary States, Iberia, Lusitania and Italia. Those alliances will
stand you in good stead. All those countries want the passage from east to west made safe again for their merchant ships.
Historically, Malta has always ensured that safety. Your situation hardly changes because they can now supply grain even in the winter storms with those new ships that the Lusitanians have managed to bring into the middle sea. If we can return Carthage to the fold of friendly trading the whole of the western side of the middle sea will have peaceful trading relations.”

King Walezia could see the truth in Drustina’s words but he was still hesitant. Until he had sufficient stocks of grain and sufficient ships to maintain a campaign for two years, he knew they were on shaky ground. It was all about logistics and supply and Walezia knew much of these issues. His island always needed to import food and live by its trade.

In the end the issue was decided for him. As winter turned to spring, a fleet of Mutas’s warships appeared at the entrance to Valetta harbour and tried to blockade the port. That same night, Drustina, Arina, Magab and Torvel employed the Mermaid’s speed and slipped out of Valetta harbour to warn the next convoy scheduled to deliver grain from Iberia.

To Mutas’s chagrin, the fleet he had despatched proved to be inadequate. He had split his navy and retained half his ships in Carthage. On the other side however, things were different. A portion of Appotel’s fleet was not in Malta but escorting the next convoy of grain. Convoying was a tactic Drustina and Aiofe had learned in the Viking invasions of Britain and it was proving to be an equally effective defence. When Drustina made contact with the Turdetani convoy commander, he was overjoyed to learn it was Carl who now served as a senior captain in Appotel’s employ. Carl had known of the strange changes that had overcome the boy he had so grown to like but he was clearly shocked when Drustan now presented as Drustina and was a stunningly tall, slender, graceful maid. He expressed his shock and admiration when they met to exchange news. Having warned Carl of the ‘reception’ he could expect, Drustina and Magab returned to the Mermaid and accompanied the convoy back to Malta.

Consequently Carl’s convoy arrived off Malta prepared for war.

When the grain convoy appeared off Gozo - the second island in the Maltese Kingdom - the Carthaginian flotilla commanders realised they were outnumbered. Suddenly they had to divide their fleet to confront the approaching convoy. In this they were singularly ill-equipped as the warships that had been ‘bottled up’ in Valetta harbour now outnumbered the remaining blockaders. The mix of Turdetani, Lusitani and Maltese warships could now sally forth to meet the remaining portion of the blockading force. The Carthaginians were caught in a pincer. The rout that ensued could not even have been described as a battle. The ‘Mermaid’ class convoy escorts made short work of Mutas’s ships and the grain arrived virtually uninterrupted.

The lessons in naval strategy were not lost on any of the protagonists. Walezia realised he now had a war on his hands while Mutas realised he might just have made a mistake. The very act of trying to blockade Valetta and obstruct what had been until then, neutral Turdetani and Lusitani ships was a de facto declaration of war. Mutas had jumped the gun and shot himself in the foot. The citizenry of Malta, all traders to a man, now realised they were safe. As a dozen or so captured Carthaginian ships were escorted into the capacious creeks that made Valetta harbour, the message was loud and clear. Any threat of invasion from Carthage had been eliminated. After the battle, the city of Valetta celebrated its newfound security and freedom. Nowhere was that security better celebrated than in Walezia’s palace. Strangely however, Walezia was disappointed to find that his favourite captain was missing again along with her ship, crew and his most esteemed guest Magab.

Walezia tackled both Eric and Carl who had fought in the battle and they both confirmed they had seen the Angry Mermaid and her crew safe after the battle but then she had disappeared into a rain squall, last seen possibly going west towards Carthage. When Aiofe heard this news, she cursed softly. It seemed her newfound sister was every bit as reckless as her headstrong ex-brother had been. Knowing that nothing could catch the Mermaid to order her back, they could only wait and see and hope. For Aiofe and even King Walezia the joy of the victory feast was somewhat muted by Magab’s and Drustina’s non-appearance. Once again, Aiofe had to reconcile herself to her ‘sister’s’ distrustful nature and her disappearing at the most inopportune times. She was also angry with her own fiancé Magab for there were many important and urgent issues to be discussed concerning the forthcoming war.