[b]Observatory[/b]

Zosime wasn't consciously aware of being gently shaken, but it was probably what started her on the path to wakefulness.  Half in a dream, she was vaguely aware of the wrongness of her surroundings.  Lying on her stomach, her face buried in the crook of her elbow, Zosime was sleeping aware that she shouldn't feel the texture of bark under her hand, shouldn't be gently rocking, and shouldn't be able to smell salt in the air.  She should have been in her quarters in the temple of Sekhmet, sleeping on her hard pallet, incense lingering in the air from last night's ritual, when the chosen among the priestesses had consumed huge amounts of wine to turn aside Sekhmet's wrath.

But she was more asleep, and these glaring contradictions didn't immediately trouble her somnolent mind.  Her hand idly fiddled with a small cluster of leaves growing out of the deck beside her, rubbing the smooth surfaces between forefinger and thumb, and tucked her face tighter into her arm, shielding her eyes from the light.

What jolted her awake was the sound of a man's voice.  She did not understand the words, which was worrisome in itself, but it was clearly a male voice, and men were [i]not[/i] supposed to be in the female quarters.  Ever.  With a yelp, she scrambled to her feet, stumbling when she realized she had been lying on the floor instead of the slight elevation of her pallet.  She whirled around, taking in the bizarre surroundings - a gently rocking room full of weird things and made of apparently living wood - before taking in the people who were present.

Two were asleep, like she had been; a male and a female, both dressed in incredibly strange clothing.  The other two, clearly her captors, were standing.  Both were very tall men, both were bearded, and one was tattooed.  This did not seem to be good news.  She crossed her arms in front of herself, noting that she seemed to be fully dressed - did she even remember returning to her quarters after the ritual? - and levelled her very best glare.

They looked pretty disreputable, and [i]hairy[/i], so Zosime decided to speak in aramaic when she demanded, "Who are you?  Where am I?  Why have you brought me here?"