Aurelie is horrified at the sight of the slaves

Aurelie had been very curious to see the oar deck. While working on the upper deck she had heard moans and whip lashes coming from below and she had been amazed how realistic they had sounded. The Princess' burden was really pushing the level of detail to unprecedented heights. She had thus been interested to go below deck to see how the rowing was being done.

She followed the quartermaster down the ladder into the dim-lit oar-deck. Instantly she was taken by the dampness and heat reigning there. The smell, too. The atmosphere was much thicker than above, even though the sun had been beating hard on the crew. Down there, the humidity made the heat feel much worse. Actually, it did not take long for Aurelie to be sweating like a fountain.

It all became worse when the quartermaster opened the door to the rowing benches. The air that wafted through the narrow opening reeked of sweat, urine and stale water. It made Aurelie's throat tighten, she grimaced and pinched her wrinkled nose. Then her expression turned to one of sheer shock as the brutal scene of the oar crew was suddenly revealed to her. It was so realistic! The rowers were chained to their oar, they were mostly naked, covered in sweat and filth. Grimaces of fear and pain were painted on all their faces. When the whipmaster lashed his whip at one of them, it seemed so real.

Aurelie remained motionless and speechless for several seconds as she took in the scene. Wherever her eyes looked she discovered a new horror: tattoos, piercings, swollen welts. It was so realistic. How could it be faked? Those were all very good actors. But how could they enjoy living in such a place? She would never have chosen such a role.

Something was not right, though. So far, everything she had seen had been as close to history as it could be but she was sure galleys had always been rowed by male convicts. A female crew was totally unheard of, as far as what she had read.

She wanted to ask the quartermaster about this obvious mistake but he did not let her speak, explaining her the task she had to accomplish and transferring authority to the whipmaster. Before she could talk, he was gone, locking the door behind her. Aurelie looked at the filth that had accumulated in this horrid place. There was no doubt the job had to be done, but she was not sure she was ready for such a level of realism. The moans of the slaves, the stench, the whipping sound… all this was very intense for the newcomer.