Strength

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

            Thespus pottered around the edge of the ship, gazing off into the murky depths of the ocean. His thoughts drifted to home, and he remembered his pet goat, Festus, whom he had left under the care of his step-mother when he left for Troy at sixteen. I hope Festus is still alive, he thought, grinning stupidly.

“THESPUS!” The main staff captain, Cyrillus roared, “Get back to rowing! Stop daydreaming about that silly goat of yours!”

Thespus looked up, surprised. He looked down at the oar in his hand, and comprehension slowly dawned on his face. He grinned again at the captain who had reprimanded1 him, and then looked back at his oar. psydonym

“Oh! Sorry, Captain!” he murmured sheepishly, beginning to row again.

            It was a wonder he hadn’t been thrown off the ship some time ago. Thespus was young compared to most of the other men, and had a handsome face. He was built like a bear, huge and strong, and he had terrified many of his shipmates when he first joined the crew. But he was really just a big teddy bear, with not a drop of hatred in his heart. His one fault was his incorrigible2 stupidity. He had a tendency to daydream, and orders had to be repeated over and over to him before he would act on them. Cyrillus particularly hated him, mainly because Odysseus rarely chastised Thespus himself, so the job fell to Cyrillus. Cyrillus was a brazen3 man, always yelling at someone. He secretly worshipped Odysseus like a god, but pretended to hate him, mostly because he simply needed someone to be mad at. He was one of the older men on the ship, and it was whispered behind his back that he was always so morose4 because he had never married or found a woman he liked. He was a very solitary man, and he rarely talked except to give orders.

“Cyrillus.” Odysseus’ deep voice made Cyrillus flinch, a deep scarlet blush spreading up his neck.

“Y-yes, sir?” he stammered, attempting to contort his face into a scowl and failing miserably. He ended up looking something like an agonized duck.

“I’d like you to remember what your duties are. I will discipline men where necessary.”

                “Ok sir,” Cyrillus answered, finally composing himself. “Merely trying to help, sir.”

“Thank you, Cyrillus,” Odysseus replied with a nod, striding back to the prow.

Cyrillus sighed inwardly, his scowl deepening. He looked back over the men and took a deep breath, puffing out his chest, preparing to bellow at them to “row harder,” or some equally arbitrary5 command, when a low cough came from behind him. He glanced back to see Odysseus looking pointedly at him. He frowned, and slouched back against the side of the ship. What’s the point in being Captain if you can’t yell at people, he thought, grumbling.