Echoes of Olympus (The Atheniad Book 1)

by Darrin Drader

  Thermiandra strung her bow and ran her arm through it, then grabbed the rope.

  “Ready?” Heliodas asked.

  “Is this a good time to mention that I’m afraid of heights?” she asked.

  Heliodas rolled his eyes and then started pulling his end of the rope. Thermiandra quickly ascended to the roof. He kept his grip on the rope until he was certain that she was safely on top. “How’s the roof?”

  “It’s a little steep, but the marble is cracked. There’s a lot of footholds, so I should be fine,” she called back.

  “Good hunting!” Heliodas called as he walked toward the dark interior of the temple.

  Heliodas walked between the columns inside the temple and discovered a rectangular room about half the total size of the building. Light entered through the unblocked entrance, but from no other place. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, he began to see the interior in some detail. Everything of value had long since been taken, but there were still depictions of the sun god, Apollo, painted on the walls. One image showed the muscular body and youthful visage of the god, who looked kindly upon the mortals below him. On another wall, he saw the many-pointed starburst that was the god’s symbol. Heliodas was not one to pray to the gods, but on this day, he muttered a silent prayer that Apollo would favor him.

  Several minutes passed as Heliodas waited within the temple. He could hear Thermiandra walking above, but they dared not raise their voices to talk with one another for fear of revealing their positions. He gripped his spatha and swung it around several times, reacquainting himself with the weight and balance of the sword. As he did so, he was keenly aware of the pain in his back, but it was not debilitating.

  Eventually the party of Persians came into view. The warriors wore patterned silk robes over their armor, and they appeared so similar that they could be mistaken for the same person. Heliodas recognized them by this appearance; they were known as the immortals – so known because they were the most elite fighting force in the Persian army, and they intentionally matched one another’s appearance as closely as possible. Their loose fitting silk robes were a light brown color, with striped patterns. Barely visible underneath was metal scale armor. Each man had dusky skin, long black hair that was held out of their faces with golden circlets, and beards that grew just long enough to cover their chins. Their shoes curled at the toes, as was fashionable in the Persian cities. Each carried a sword in hand and they had bows strapped across their backs.

  Behind them was another man. Unarmored, his robes were solid blue. The top of his head was almost completely bald, and his wispy hair and beard were mostly gray. Heliodas saw no weapons on the man, but there was something about his eyes – a kind of dark confidence that he found troubling, as though he was completely unafraid. The man called out something in a language Heliodas did not understand, and two of the soldiers walked toward the temple.

  Heliodas held his spatha over his shoulder with both hands, preparing to swing. He took a deep breath and held it as the pair of soldiers cautiously entered the dark temple, mere feet from Heliodas. In all likelihood, it would take a moment or two for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. They slowly took a couple more steps inward, and Heliodas chose that moment to strike.

  He released his breath in a loud battle cry as he sprang forward, swinging his sword, scythe-like, toward the nearest soldier. The man screamed as the leaf-shaped sword cleaved through armor, muscle, and bone. Heliodas felt warm blood fall on his sword arm, and the Persian fell down in a heap.

  Heliodas quickly pulled his sword out of the Persian’s body, but noted that the other was not so quick to resign himself to the swift fate of his fellow, as he backed out of the temple and back into the light. Heliodas followed him, noting that Thermiandra had begun firing arrows down upon the group from above.

  The two soldiers who had been standing back from the temple moved ahead to reinforce the one who had emerged. Once they neared, they were nearly out of Thermiandra’s bowshot. She had to move up to the roof’s edge and steepen the angle she was firing at. Thus far, her arrows had not struck any of the Persian soldiers. Heliodas dared not look up to see her, though he worried about her footing. Although she could shoot a bow, she lacked a soldier’s training, and she would be likely to miss shots simply because of the fact that she was no longer hunting unarmed creatures. Soldiers were likely to shoot back.

  The three soldiers were about ready to attack when the impossible happened. Heliodas watched incredulously as the man in the back ran several steps forward, jumped, and then floated lightly above his head, to the top of the temple. An arrow fired from Thermiandra’s bow should have hit him as he ascended, but it stopped dead in mid-air, and fell to the ground.

  Heliodas raised his sword over his head and rushed to attack the three soldiers.

  Thermiandra cursed as she watched each of the arrows she fired miss their targets. As the soldiers moved toward Heliodas, she stepped closer and closer to the edge of the roof, continuing to fire arrows down at her enemies. As she did so, she felt a foot slip down the angled rooftop. Afraid of falling from this height, she threw herself down and used her body to stop her descent. Stabilized, she looked down, just in time to see the Persian administrator jump, and then fly toward the roof. She managed to fire an arrow at him, but watched helplessly as the arrow stopped short and then fell to the ground.

  The man landed on the rooftop and, standing just inches away, he extended a hand to help her to her feet. Unsteady, and taken utterly aback at the display of powerful magic she had just witnessed, she accepted the hand. Once she was again on her feet, he withdrew his hand, and then walked to the peak of the temple’s roof.

  “I am Asba Khejani,” the man said. “For years I have seen you at your adopted father’s court when I came to take stock of the situation in Cyme. I was always fond of your father, but I was taken quite aback with your sudden disappearance.”

  “How did you get up here? I have never seen the gods grant that kind of power,” she said.

  Khejani smiled, “A question for another time, but first, there is something we must discuss.”

  “What do you want of me?”

  “You possess something, and I intend to take it from you.”

  Thermiandra was confused. Upon leaving her father’s keep, she had taken scant few items with her. Her pack was small and she carried only a peplos to replace the one she wore, as well as the nuts and dates she had brought with her for sustenance. “I don’t understand.”

  “Do you take me for a fool?” Khejani asked. “When last I divined the location of the Pearls of Atlantis, it was revealed to me that you were near them. After you left your father’s keep, I consulted them again and received the same results. You will give me the pearls.”

  Again, Thermiandra was utterly confused. “I know nothing of any pearls. I don’t have what you’re looking for.”

  “You lie!” Khejani said. He held his right hand out before him, then clenched his fist. Suddenly Thermiandra felt as though something were tightening around her chest, though she saw nothing. He raised his hand up, and Thermiandra found herself floating in place at least five feet above the rooftop.

  “Please, I don’t know what you are talking about. I know nothing of these pearls!”

  “You know more than you are telling me. There are no other possibilities!” Khejani lifted his hand higher, and Thermiandra drifted up and out – up another five feet, and out over the edge of the rooftop. She looked down to the fight below, and immediately realized that Heliodas was in trouble.

  Heliodas charged the enemy soldiers and swung his spatha at the Persian in the center of the group. The intended target parried the blade while the other two soldiers took that opportunity to swing at him. He twisted his sword around to block one of the incoming attacks while throwing his body back to avoid the other two.

  He swapped thrusts with the three soldiers as he danced in and out of range of the enemy blades. He tried not to think of the odd
s that he would survive this battle. He could tell by their fighting style that these were accomplished swordsmen. He weaved his spatha in and out of range, batting aside blades while making the occasional thrust toward the swordsmen, simultaneously making sure that he maintained enough distance from them to maneuver. He felt one blade graze his cuirass and he stepped back, slightly off balance.

  The Persian soldiers pressed on, and Heliodas was forced to take another step back while he kept his sword in front of him in a weak defense. He knew that this was not an ideal position to be in, and he also knew that it was only a moment or two before the three would close the gap between them and surround him. He drew his sword back, fell to a knee, and then sprang forward, thrusting at the nearest soldier.

  The attack had the desired effect as his target took a step back. Heliodas stopped short of completing the attack, and instead pulled his spatha back over his shoulder and swung it in a wide arc at one of the other soldier’s head. Again, the attack missed, but he succeeded in driving that soldier back a step. The final soldier was already a step away, so Heliodas once again had some space, at least for the moment.

  The soldier directly in front of him and the one to his right stepped back in, swinging their blades. Unable to parry both blades, he sprang back out of range of his advancing enemies. The third soldier joined in and he was again losing the space he’d just re-established, and was suddenly dodging three blades, barely having the time to hit them hard enough to knock the attacks aside before dealing with the next incoming blade. These soldiers fought as a team, and it was clear that they were skilled at timing their attacks perfectly so as not to interfere with each other.

  The barrage of steel continued for several seconds, and while Heliodas managed to quicken his parries enough to keep the blades from striking home, he was forced to retreat, one step at a time as the onslaught continued. His ankle backed into the first of the temple’s steps, and he backed up the short flight of stairs, happily taking the slight advantage of the high ground as the Persians continued pushing him back. His sword arm was beginning to grow tired and the wounds in his back were flaring with pain. Suddenly, his backward retreat was blocked. His back was up against one of the temple’s pillars. The soldiers moved to surround him. Retreat was no longer an option.

  “Please, bring me back!” Thermiandra shouted at Khejani. Through it all, she still managed to hold onto her bow, though she was straining against the pressure that was cutting the flow of blood to her arms. “I don’t know what these Pearls of Atlantis are, but I won’t be able to tell you anything if you kill me. Bring me back!”

  “I will on the condition that you tell me everything you know.”

  “I’ll tell you everything I know. Please, don’t let me fall!”

  Khejani stood motionless for a moment, then gestured toward himself with his hand. Thermiandra drifted downward, her feet once again finding purchase on the temple roof. “Now it is time to speak.”

  “Release me completely and I’ll tell you where they are,” she pleaded.

  Khejani sighed, and Thermiandra suddenly felt the pressure surrounding her upper body release. She could move her arms again. Taking advantage of the situation, she quickly nocked an arrow and shot it at Khejani’s chest from only five feet away. The shot should have taken him in the chest, but again, the arrow altered course in mid-air and angled away from the Persian administrator.

  “I am growing tired of your defiance, girl! Tell me where I can find the pearls!”

  Thermiandra fired two more arrows, only to see them fly off as the previous one had. Suddenly she felt a strange sensation building within her. Her shoulders, torso, and head were suddenly tingling. It felt as though some sort of energy was filling her, using her as a vessel, and trying to escape her body. Even as Khejani applied the pressure around her once again, she surrendered herself to the power she felt within her. Initially, she wanted to simply release it from her body, but then she concentrated on the Persian administrator as she sought to release it.

  “I grow tired of asking. Where are the Pearls of Atlantis?” Khejani demanded. Her feet lifted once more from the temple roof, just as she felt she could contain no more of the energy within her.

  Thermiandra suddenly released the energy through her eyes, focusing entirely on Khejani. She felt the buildup of energy drain from her in an instant. A shocked look appeared on the Persian’s face, just before the color of his skin and clothing faded to gray. He stopped moving and his entire composition changed from that of a living man to that of a statue.

  Thermiandra’s feet dropped once more to the sloped temple roof as she collapsed into a crouched position. She then cautiously reached out and touched Khejani. He was unmistakably stone now. He was suddenly nothing more than a life-like sculpture that bore an uncanny resemblance to the man who had been hunting her for the past several weeks. “I told you that I don’t know anything about the damn pearls!” she shouted at the unmoving figure.

  Heliodas parried repeatedly, and ducked and moved whenever possible to avoid the incoming blades, but his movement was restricted and he knew that it was only a matter of time before one of the enemy blades penetrated his defenses. He did not welcome death, though he had to admit that he had already been dealt what should have been a lethal blow on the banks of the Granicus.

  He batted aside blade after blade, ducking, and dodging, but his attackers were relentless, and he had yet to land a solid hit against any of them. He knew that he could probably power through the defenses of one of them and score a hit, but doing so would leave his defenses weak against the other two.

  Heliodas glanced up to see Thermiandra suspended above the temple’s roof. He had not imagined that placing her up there would be such a poor strategy, nor had he ever seen the sorts of powers that this Persian leader was wielding.

  Finally, Heliodas realized that their fates were sealed. He was prepared to defend against normal opponents, but he had never seen this sort of magic. Thermiandra would likely be dropped to her death, and he would soon be too tired to continue fighting. He could surrender, but he decided that he would prefer to let loose with one good attack in the hopes of taking down one more soldier rather than give them the satisfaction.

  Heliodas gripped his spatha with both hands and prepared to launch himself at the Persian in front of him when he suddenly saw movement behind them. He heard a fierce battle cry and the sound of galloping hooves. He glanced at the rider and recognized the man who was charging to his aid, his spear set. His friend Pelephon had somehow found him!

  The Persian in front of Heliodas, suddenly aware of the incoming combatant, turned his head briefly to see the newcomer. Heliodas used that opportunity to lash out with full force, burying his sword in the man’s chest. The warrior locked eyes with him and gurgled as he sank to his knees. At that moment, Pelephon galloped to the front of the temple, thrusting his spear into the soldier to Heliodas’ right. The bloody tip erupted from the soldier’s chest, and Pelephon released the weapon.

  Heliodas was suddenly faced with only one opponent, who was clearly taken aback by the shift in the battle. The Persian backed up a step and raised his blade defensively against Pelephon, which was the only opening Heliodas needed. He drew his spatha back over his shoulder then took several quick steps forward, swinging his weapon across like a scythe. The Persian was unable to adjust his defense in time to deal with the incoming attack, and Heliodas’ blade ripped through the flesh of his neck, severing his head, which fell messily to the temple stairs.

  Heliodas barely acknowledged his kill as he broke out into a wide smile and looked to his friend. “Pelephon!” he cried. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”

  “And I, you,” Pelephon replied.

  Heliodas suddenly remembered Thermiandra, but noted that he had not witnessed her fall, nor did he see her broken body at the base of the temple. He backed up a few paces and looked to the roof, only to see a bewildered looking Thermiandra staring at a brand ne
w statue that looked remarkably like the Persian administrator.

  “What happened up there?” Heliodas called out.

  Thermiandra didn’t immediately answer as she touched the stone body of the statue once more. Finally she replied, “The will of the gods!”

  Chapter 10

  Lingering Questions

  Once Thermiandra was safely on the ground and they had the chance to refill their waterskins, Heliodas introduced his companions, and then began trying to unravel the mystery of their unlikely victory.

  “My friend, what in Hades’ name are you doing here?” Heliodas asked Pelephon.

  “Looking for you,” his friend replied.

  “Why?”

  “I saw you fall in battle, but I couldn’t find your body afterwards. The army moved on, but the uncertainty of your death weighed heavily on me. I went to Alexander with my doubts about your fate. I did not believe you dead, despite what I’d seen. He gave me a four day leave to find you and discover your fate.”

  “You saved me,” Heliodas said. “I couldn’t ask for a truer friend.”

  Heliodas then turned to Thermiandra, scowling. “About you and that feat you accomplished up there, I am… confused. And how was that Persian flying?”

  Thermiandra was quiet for a moment, as she simply gazed into Heliodas’ eyes. “I fear that I lack the answers you seek,” she said simply. “I cannot explain the Persian. I’ve never seen magic like that in my life. I didn’t think it possible. I really don’t know how he became stone.”

  Heliodas shook his head. “You seem to have an odd kinship with the gods that you don’t seem willing to discuss with me.”