Lucas and Marinus caught up with the others. Marinus greeted Nicholas, and in his handshake, he transferred a small pouch into his hand. Nicholas slid it into his belt without saying a word. Marinus then directed them to the ships, though they were not hard to find. Already word had gotten out, and many people from Myra were pressing in to buy even a portion of their loads. The captain of the lead ship waved them off, saying, “These ships are bound for Rome. I’m only putting in for fresh water and supplies. I’m selling no wheat.”
Two muscled sailors stood before the captain at the end of the gangway to keep the crowds at bay. Most of the buyers wore fine robes. They were wealthy patricians who otherwise would never have lowered themselves to the common work of buying food—such was the work of their slaves. But many of their slaves were now dead, and those that survived, the masters didn’t trust to bring the food back. Even some of the leading women of the city were pushing their way through the crowd, forgetting all dignity to bid for a basket of grain. The desperate buyers shouted out their prices for all to hear, but the captain ignored their pleas.
Nicholas said to his companions, “I’ll try to speak with the captain. You keep our friends guessing.” They split up and drifted about the crowd, each keeping an eye on Nicholas.
Nicholas pressed in toward the ship but could get nowhere near the gangway in all the crowds. The two soldiers stayed at the fringes to keep watch over Nicholas and his shifting group. He looked along the ship and recognized Demetrius, one of his former sailors among the crew on deck. He made his way along the harbor beyond the thick of the crowds and came to the bow of the ship where Demetrius swabbed the deck. Nicholas waited for him to look up, but Demetrius avoided the eyes of the crowds. At last, Nicholas called out, “Demetrius!”
Demetrius looked up and recognized Nicholas with a smile. Nicholas held up the small leather pouch given him by Marinus. He said, “If you would, please give this to your captain.” Demetrius nodded and Nicholas tossed him the pouch.
The two soldiers reacted at the sight of the pouch. One took off running back toward the city. Nicholas knew others would be coming soon.
Two muscled sailors stood before the captain at the end of the gangway to keep the crowds at bay. Most of the buyers wore fine robes. They were wealthy patricians who otherwise would never have lowered themselves to the common work of buying food—such was the work of their slaves. But many of their slaves were now dead, and those that survived, the masters didn’t trust to bring the food back. Even some of the leading women of the city were pushing their way through the crowd, forgetting all dignity to bid for a basket of grain. The desperate buyers shouted out their prices for all to hear, but the captain ignored their pleas.
Nicholas said to his companions, “I’ll try to speak with the captain. You keep our friends guessing.” They split up and drifted about the crowd, each keeping an eye on Nicholas.
Nicholas pressed in toward the ship but could get nowhere near the gangway in all the crowds. The two soldiers stayed at the fringes to keep watch over Nicholas and his shifting group. He looked along the ship and recognized Demetrius, one of his former sailors among the crew on deck. He made his way along the harbor beyond the thick of the crowds and came to the bow of the ship where Demetrius swabbed the deck. Nicholas waited for him to look up, but Demetrius avoided the eyes of the crowds. At last, Nicholas called out, “Demetrius!”
Demetrius looked up and recognized Nicholas with a smile. Nicholas held up the small leather pouch given him by Marinus. He said, “If you would, please give this to your captain.” Demetrius nodded and Nicholas tossed him the pouch.
The two soldiers reacted at the sight of the pouch. One took off running back toward the city. Nicholas knew others would be coming soon.
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