Their sails are plain and patched, and had I power over the stars I would have willed them shine a little brighter, that the heavens might be eclipsed by the darkness of the ships as they obstructed the horizon. They give no cries of war, beat no drums nor blow trumpets of brass or bone. There are three ships, carrying some thirty men apiece, coils of rope set by the prow to bind their slaves oars barely tugging the sea as the wind carries them to shore. They do not burn any lanterns on their decks, but skim across the ocean like tears down a mirror. They come from the north, by the light of the full moon.
Teodora is not the first to see the raiders, but she is the first to run.
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