“It has been thirty-two years since we came,” Ficino said. “How long before do you think she would have put us? Perhaps more than that. Perhaps Helen is not yet born. I said we might see Nestor as a young man, and he was a very old man at the time of the Trojan War. I’d love to go to Pylos and see. But we’re not sailing in that direction, at least not this time. Perhaps we’ll see Anchises as a young man. That would be marvelous.”

“I too would love to meet Homer’s heroes,” I said. “But which side would you want to fight on, really?”

“I’m torn, but it would come down to the Latins and Troy,” Ficino said. “The beleaguered city holding out against the sea of enemies.”

Maia put her hand on his shoulder. “Florentia?” she asked.

Ficino smiled up at her. “Perhaps. My Florentia, like Troy, left a great legacy.”

“But our Florentia—” Maia began.

Just then a group of Young Ones including my brothers Neleus and Kallikles came running to the side of the ship, stripped off their kitons and dived into the water. They went racing off toward the shore. “Oh!” I said. I measured the distance between the ship and the shore. It wasn’t all that far. “I’m going to swim too! Would you bring my kiton?” I shrugged it off and offered it to Maia.

“Let’s all swim,” Maia said, dropping her kiton on the deck.

“It’s too far for me,” Ficino said. “I’ll go in the boat and bring your kitons to protect your modesty once you get ashore.”

People were diving all along the side of the ship. Maia and I joined them and began to swim toward the first shore I had ever seen that was not that of the island of my birth. All the while I was swimming, quickly outpacing Maia and almost catching up with my brothers, I kept thinking about which side I’d want to fight on. Troy, or the Achaeans? To rescue Helen, or to defend the city? For Agamemnon or for Priam? It wasn’t a fair question. We knew Troy was doomed. But Ficino would have fought for her anyway. I ran ashore, and the land felt strange under me. It seemed to be rocking. Earthquake? Or was the island, like Delos long ago, not tethered to the sea-bed? Then I realized this was something Erinna had told me about: when we were used to the motion of the ship, solid land would seem to move. I got up and immediately hurt my feet walking on pine needles. I hoped Ficino would bring my sandals too. I looked back at the Excellence, sitting gracefully at anchor, and although I had longed to explore this new island she looked like the most beautiful and dearest thing imaginable. Troy, I thought, and then no, the black ships.