Echoes of Olympus (The Atheniad Book 1)

by Darrin Drader

  Relief flooded Heliodas. He knew that the gods’ tolerance for his insolence had limits, and that he was pushing up against them right now. He also knew that Athena could destroy him with a thought, or do any manner of other unspeakable things to him if she chose. It also occurred to him that her actions against Athens were not born of randomness or any sort of unreasonable anger; they were done out of love for a city and a land that she adored and did not wish to see crushed by invaders.

  “Very well, I’ll do this for you, but I ask one thing in return,” Heliodas said.

  “You are not in a position to make demands, but speak anyway and I will consider it.”

  “Remove Thermiandra’s curse. Medusa did not deserve your curse, and Thermiandra, many, many generations later, also does not deserve this. It is a miscarriage of your will, a divine lapse in judgment, and you are the one who must correct it.”

  Athena walked back to the position where her statue had resided before she took possession of it, and Heliodas feared that she would leave without answering his demand.

  “I had reasons for cursing Medusa as I did, and I would do so again. I do not have to explain my actions to you, but I insist that you trust that my actions were warranted.”

  “You’ll forgive me if my trust of the gods is running thin,” Heliodas said. “So you insist on punishing the innocent for the sins of an ancestor?”

  “Succeed in your quest, and I will remove it,” she said. With that, the statue became silent and still.

  Lysiemon sat with Diophrastus and watched the exchange between Demosthenes’ nephew and the goddess with amusement. “Well, that confirms that Athens was indeed on the wrong course,” he said quietly, to ensure that only his co-conspirator could hear his words.

  Diophrastus nodded. “Yes, I will be able to use this to my advantage,” he said.

  “Though I fear that bump in popularity that Demosthenes will receive should Heliodas prove successful in the quest Athena laid out.”

  “As do I,” Diophrastus said.

  “Then we must find a way to ensure his failure,” Lysiemon said.

  “Would that not go against the will of Athena?” Diophrastus asked.

  “Athena said that Heliodas had a role to play. She did not say that he was the champion, merely that he could become the champion. Nor did she say that another could not succeed if he did not. Perhaps we could find another to succeed where he has failed. Maybe we could find someone who is loyal to our cause to take up the search.”

  Diophrastus looked to Lysiemon and smiled. “You are a schemer, but I cannot disagree with your reasoning,” he said.

  Heliodas walked to Thermiandra, who still had tears streaming down her face.

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” Thermiandra said.

  “You could have trusted me,” Heliodas said. He wasn’t sure whether he should try to comfort her or be angry with her. He decided that for now, he would postpone that decision until later. It was not a common occurrence to debate with a god, and if legends were to be believed, it was even less common to survive such an experience. Perhaps Athena had some special tolerance with him because of his parentage, but he suspected that it would be a mistake to push that assumption too far.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and tried to embrace him.

  Heliodas stood stoically. “It would appear that Archetus was correct. I’ll be leaving Athens again soon, and I could use help.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Thermiandra quickly offered.

  “I don’t even know where to look for this sword. Perseus lived during the Bronze Age. He’s been dead for a thousand years.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Thermiandra said quietly. “But you won’t be able to do it alone. I’m good with a bow. Take me with you.”

  Heliodas was unsure. On one hand, he was upset that Thermiandra had abandoned him in the labyrinth the night before. On the other hand, if she were in his place, would he not offer his aid in an instant? He also knew that wherever this quest should take him, he would not fare well without some companions at his side. He smiled reassuringly at Thermiandra. “Things have changed since last night, but we make a good team. Since your freedom from the curse is dependent upon my success, you can come. But from now on, I expect a greater degree of trust than you have shown so far.”

  “I’ll do that, and I’m sorry,” Thermiandra said. Heliodas wished that an apology was all that it would take to overcome this.

  The pair walked down the hill from the Acropolis, and Heliodas knew that he would need to call on Pelephon and Archetus once more. Hopefully the Macedonian would be willing to postpone his return to Alexander’s army for a while longer.

  Menphon let loose a great belly laugh upon hearing what had transpired at the Parthenon. “Athena herself appeared after her plans to kill the lot of you failed.”

  “Don’t act so amused,” Diophrastus said. “She called for a war against Sparta so that Athens could unite Greece.”

  “I’m curious,” Lysiemon asked. “Has Ares never called for a war with Athens?”

  “Ares offers no counsel on war. He knows that Sparta is focused on war. We can find it well enough ourselves,” Menphon said.

  “Lysiemon thinks that we should somehow prevent Heliodas from succeeding in his quest,” Diophrastus said.

  Menphon nodded. “That would be wise. If he returns with Zeus’ sword, he’d attract so many followers back to Demosthenes that it would completely undermine all of the work we’ve done so far. We can’t allow that. I’m curious though, how has your suggestion to banish Demosthenes been received?”

  “Poorly with many, very well with others,” Diophrastus said. “I intend to put it to a vote at the forum the next time it is convened.”

  Menphon nodded. “Yes, that is a good idea. Be certain to make your move before this matter with Heliodas is resolved. As it stands now, the people of Athens are going to be fearful. They’ll be afraid that Athena broke her silence, fearful that their dominance will come to an end, as Athena suggested, and fearful that things will change. We need to capitalize on that fear.”

  “Agreed,” said Lysiemon. “We must turn this to our advantage. Diophrastus can turn the rhetoric to our favor, but how do you suggest that we ensure the failure of Heliodas?”

  Menphon smiled, and Lysiemon saw that mischievous look in his eye that the old Spartan got when he was about to suggest something outrageous. “I propose that I send the Butcher of Thebes with Heliodas. If he can ingratiate himself as an ally, it will be a simple matter to murder Heliodas and his friends while they sleep long before they can find the Sword of Zeus.”

  Lysiemon liked it. Not only did it further their goals, but it also removed the assassin from Athens, which meant that he couldn’t come after him should he have a falling out with Menphon.

  “There’s another consideration,” Menphon said. “Heliodas won’t know where to look for the sword. Nobody has seen it since the Bronze Age. The only way that the boy will be able to get that information is if he goes to see the Oracle of Delphi.”

  “Agreed,” Lysiemon said. “The Oracle has never taken sides with any of the poleis, and she keeps only a few ill-trained guards.”

  “I’ll dispatch some of the soldiers. If I send them out immediately, they should arrive outside of Delphi before Heliodas arrives.”

  Lysiemon smiled. “Ensure that no harm comes to her, though,” he said. “There’s only one oracle at any time, and it would be too great a loss to lose the only direct line we still have to the gods.”

  “Agreed,” Menphon said.

  Heliodas and Thermiandra stood outside the entrance to the Lyceum, the school founded by the great philosopher, Aristotle.

  “If anyone can tell us where to start looking for the Sword of Perseus, it’s the most learned man in Athens,” Heliodas said.

  “Are you sure he’ll even agree to see you?” Thermiandra asked.

  “Why would he not? Would this not be considered a scholarly mat
ter - a challenge for someone as smart as he?”

  “It’s possible, but my experience with scholars is that they like to go to the people with their knowledge. They don’t like to have people coming to them, particularly with matters that they aren’t prepared with an answer for.”

  “Not all are alike,” Heliodas said. He walked past the Doric pillars and the wrought iron gate in front of the entrance to the academy, and then entered the esteemed hallways. He immediately sensed that he was out of place when he saw the people milling about in togas. There was not a single man in armor, and most of them looked scrawny compared to the soldiers with whom Heliodas was accustomed to associating. People immediately turned and regarded him with suspicion. He walked up to a balding man with short-cropped gray hair. “I seek Aristotle. Where can I find him?”

  The man fixed Heliodas with a stern expression. “A soldier does not simply walk into the Lyceum and demand to speak with Aristotle. If he has committed a crime, there is a process of law that must be observed in Athens, and I can assure you that you are most certainly not following that process.”

  Heliodas smiled pleasantly. “He’s not in any trouble. I have a problem that only he can solve.”

  “He is indisposed,” the man said, waving him off. “If you’d like, I’ll pass along your information and he can grant you an audience when he’s available.”

  “I’m Heliodas. Maybe you heard what happened at the Parthenon earlier today?”

  The demeanor of the scholar immediately changed. “That was you? Forgive me – I didn’t realize who I was speaking to. I’ll take you to him at once.”

  “Of course,” Heliodas said. Of course, Heliodas realized, he was still merely a soldier so far as this man was concerned, but he was suddenly a soldier of curiosity, which gave him greater latitude to make requests.

  The man led the pair of them through several hallways, up a flight of stairs, and through a minor labyrinth of additional hallways until they arrived at a simple looking wooden door. He knocked and a moment later, the door opened. In all his years in Athens, Heliodas had never seen Aristotle in person, though he was a legend among so many, not the least of whom was Alexander. Aristotle was of average height and build, though his shoulders appeared to be a bit stooped. He had a bushy white beard, and a receding hairline, though what hair he had left was combed forward.

  “Yes, Ceso?”

  “Heliodas is here to speak with you,” he said.

  “Ah yes, the nephew of Demosthenes, who dared defy Athena. By all means, come into my office. Thank you, Ceso.”

  Ceso nodded and closed the door behind him as he left.

  “I’ve already heard all about your exploits,” Aristotle said excitedly. “You’ve traveled with my former student, Alexander, and you now seek the sword Zeus gave to Perseus, all those years ago.”

  “Do you think it still exists?” Heliodas asked.

  “I can’t be certain,” Aristotle said. “I’d assume that Athena would not ask you to find it if it could not be found, though.”

  “Where do you think it might be?”

  “Impossible to say, unfortunately,” Aristotle said. He retrieved a scroll from a shelf by his desk and unrolled it. “According to everything we know about Perseus in his later years, he went on to found the great polis of Mycenae.”

  “They ended up provoking the Trojan War,” Heliodas said.

  “Indeed. Homer wrote extensively about King Agamemnon. But the polis was already an old power when they went to war against Troy.”

  “So where should I start looking?” Heliodas asked.

  “I believe that it would be a waste of your time to go search the ruins of Mycenae at this stage, especially since I’m not certain where exactly those ruins are located.”

  “What do you mean?” Heliodas asked.

  “For whatever reason, Mycenae fell. We know that much,” Aristotle said. “However, I have three different scrolls that show the ruins in three different locations. I’d imagine that there are polis ruins in all three places, which won’t make your job of finding the sword any easier. You could be my age by the time you’ve gone through every structure to find it.”

  Heliodas shook his head. “Are we even sure that the sword would be at Mycenae?”

  “Not at all,” Aristotle said. “Unfortunately, there are limits to the information I have. The only person who might be able to set you on the right path is the Oracle of Delphi.” He turned to his desk and drew forth a scroll and a quill. Consulting three different maps, he drew an outline of the major landmasses of mainland Greece, then marked the possible locations where Mycenae might lie.

  “Take this scroll,” Aristotle said, handing the map to Heliodas. “I suspect that it may be helpful to you.”

  “I was always told you teach that reliance on the supernatural isn’t proper,” Heliodas said uncertainly.

  “I agree that we should not attribute everything in the natural world to the gods or any other supernatural force,” said Aristotle. “However, I know that no amount of research on my part will provide you with the information you need. The only thing left to do is to appeal to the gods for help. Hopefully they’ll listen to you,”

  “Hopefully,” Heliodas agreed. He looked to Thermiandra, who had been quiet throughout this exchange. “You weren’t given any special insight from Athena on this matter, were you?”

  Thermiandra shook her head. “No. My vision ended with the calamity that was to befall Athens. She made no knowledge of this sword available to me.”

  “Then you must go to Delphi,” Aristotle said.

  Part III

  Lost Relic of The Heroic Age

  Chapter 22

  Interlude II

  Tracking down Pelephon proved to be an easy matter. After they finished their conversation with Aristotle, Heliodas and Thermiandra stopped at the Dockside Inn, where the Macedonian warrior had said he’d be staying; they found him perched over a half drunk glass of wine, listening to the tales of a merchant whose stories were not nearly as interesting as the speaker believed them to be.

  Pelephon nodded periodically as the man spoke, though Thermiandra could tell that the warrior was far more interested by the wine in his glass. She could also tell that the merchant was a person who found that the only way to keep a conversation going was to hold the subject of his attention hostage with a non-stop narrative that didn’t allow the other to get in a word edgewise. As they approached, Pelephon looked up at them helplessly.

  “Ah, there you are, my brother,” Thermiandra said loudly, interrupting the conversation. “The herbalist told you not to leave your room until two days after the purple splotches went away. You should not be out here!”

  “Splotches?” the merchant asked. “Does he have something serious?”

  “Well, yes,” Thermiandra replied. “Or at least… had. It’s supposed to be gone now… that’s what she said would happen. Don’t worry, it’s not fatal. Well, not usually,” Thermiandra said.

  Thermiandra looked to the half empty glass of wine and continued. “You were told to stay away from the wine for at least a week.”

  “Is there a reason he shouldn’t be drinking wine?” the merchant asked.

  Thermiandra forced herself to keep a straight face as she said, “Well, the herbalist said that the affliction grows stronger with alcohol. He was told that if he drank, he’d be putting not only his own life at risk, but that of everyone around him. Really, I’m surprised he didn’t say anything to you about it.”

  Pelephon shrugged his massive shoulders. “I tried to mention it,” he said apologetically.

  The merchant put his own drink down and stood up. “It was wonderful speaking with you, good soldier. Best of luck in your travels!” He then abandoned his drink and hurried for the door.

  “It’s a good thing that my friend didn’t notice that we look nothing alike, Thermiandra,” Pelephon said with a smile as he rose to his feet. “Has anything interesting happened for you since we sa
w each other last?”

  Thermiandra looked at Heliodas, and she couldn’t suppress a smile at the absurdity of what they had to tell him.

  “What?” asked Pelephon. Thermiandra continued to smile, and then Heliodas began to laugh. “Seriously, what is it?”

  “Did nobody from the outside come into this inn for the last three or four hours?” Heliodas asked.

  “Maybe… I don’t know. I was listening to that merchant blather on about mooring fees, and the best ports for bribing the dock officials. Why? What happened?”

  “It turns out that she’s a monster. She turns people to stone,” Heliodas said, a serious expression appearing on his face.

  “And he just had a conversation with Athena at the Parthenon in front of the entire polis,” Thermiandra said.

  Pelephon started to nod, then fixed her with a quizzical stare. “I had no idea that the two of you had gone mad,” Pelephon said.

  “That’s the funny part,” Thermiandra said. “It’s all true. You should have been there. Heliodas stood up to Athena. I think he frustrated her. It was amazing to witness.”

  “Why would you do that? This is Athens; this is supposed to be her polis,” Pelephon objected.

  Thermiandra and Heliodas told him the events that had transpired since they had last seen each other, including leaving Heliodas in the labyrinth, the details of her curse, and the quest that Athena expected them to undertake.

  “So I’m coming to you and asking if you’d be willing to postpone your return to Alexander’s army,” Heliodas finished. “I could use your help.”

  “Odd that the parting words of Archetus should prove prophetic,” Pelephon said. “I’m going to assume that he’s going to be interested, and I know that his ability with Titan magic will be just as helpful as my sword arm. Count me in.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Do you think that Alexander will be angry with you?” Heliodas asked.