by Gene Stiles
He was not particularly surprised to find the beautiful woman in attendance when he awoke. It happened many times. Usually, she would sit some distance away on a stool brought in with her, dressed in her formal attire. Her demeanor started out timid, but compassionate and inquisitive. He knew her purpose was to extract information about Atlantis and its military capabilities, which he would not give since the more brutal tactics of the other two of the Trinity produced nothing. But as time when on, her kindness and innate curiosity turned from inquisition to understanding and they became friends. Ra began to care for her in a way that amazed him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, gazing at him with her near-oval, jade eyes. “I hope the meal provided was tolerable.”
“Much more that ‘tolerable’,” he replied, reaching out to place a hand upon hers. “I have not eaten so well in months. Thank you. How are my friends?”
“You are more than welcome,” she said with a faint smile. “Isis and Astraeus are well fed and recovering. They send their regards. I am sorry I could not do more.”
“It is enough. Again, thank you.” He ran his fingertips across her upraised palm, glad that she did not recoil at his touch. “How did you get such a feast past our guards?”
“You have gained more friends than you know.” Wadjet shivered, electricity crackling along her nerves where his fingers caressed her. Her mien stiffened slightly and she glanced out into the hallway. “Speak not of it though. There is much anger toward Atlantis festering in Nil. The aggression from your People is fueling much hatred. The support you have is not for Atlantis, but only for the three of you. Your courage, strength and the agony you have endured shames the People. They are all basically good and kind and know you to be as well. They got caught up in the web of lies spread by Apophus and by his command over them. That is breaking and that is why I am here.”
Ramathus looked at her quizzically, tilting his head to one side and raising an eyebrow as she rose to her feet. Wadjet walked to the hall, glanced down either end and then closed the door behind her before returning to her place. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned closer to his face.
“There is a movement building to help you escape.” She cupped his hand between hers, close enough to him to place the kiss upon his parted lips that she wanted so badly to do. She did not, knowing it would not be enough. “It is slow to grow and will take time. Maybe years. Apophus is feared and powerful and holds absolute sway over the People of Nil. Your example in the face of the indignities visited upon you is inspiring others to stand against him. Just know you have allies.”
Wadjet rose once again and looked down upon him. Her smile radiated across her face this time. “Also, on the order of Apophus, there will be no more public - or private - tortures. I thought you would like to know.”
She let herself out, closing the door behind her and locking it, as she knew she had to. Her heartbeat raced, but she was unsure if it was because of his nearness or if it was because of the dangerous path she decided to follow. Probably both. She would have to take great care or she would not just be imprisoned, she would be executed, a member of the Trinity or not.
It was not until she left that Ramathus realized it was the first time he saw her without her headdress and she was far more exotic than he ever knew.
Loki felt more excitement than ever before in his short life. He stuck his head outside the whizzing sled, childish pleasure shining on his windblown face. His cheeks were blushed rosy red. His dark brown eyes sparkled with glee, dampened by the whipping air currents. A streamer of black wavy hair flapped behind his head like a cape in a tornado. The grin that spread across his square, sculptured features was more brilliant than the yellow sun and more pure than a mountain stream. He laughed into the wind as if to inhale all of the life swirling by as he raced past.
Rhea and Hyperion could not help but grin at each other at his wondrous glee. They were ecstatic Amelia finally allowed them to take Loki away for a few weeks. It took much longer than they expected knowing how she hated the boy. She seemed more interested in punishing the child for the fiendish horror of his conception than to rid herself of his constant reminder. They started with a few days here and there, taking Loki to Rhea’s cabin and day trips to Atlantis. Then it was for a week, then two. Now, after over a year, Amelia conceded to let them keep him for two months of the summer. Though they would never reveal it, they were taking Loki to Home.
Just being away from the savage daily beatings and constant berating was enough for Loki, even if he must endure worse when he returned, but the time he spent with Rhea was well worth the price. Sometimes they just walked in the woods, talked and enjoyed a picnic by a stream. Other times, she schooled him in science, art, language and history, marveling him with the breath of her knowledge. She was kind and patient, treating him with respect and a warmth he never received from his mother. He loved her.
Hyperion visited often or was with her when she picked him up. His flamboyant style and infectious laughter bathed Loki in its glory, touching him deep in his young soul. He was like a character in a book or holo, larger than life, highly intelligent and handsome, yet carefree and wild. Loki hoped he would grow up to be just like him.
Once Loki was granted permission to visit regularly, Keramec arrived to continue his Aam training in martial arts and military strategy. The blond haired, granite block monster of a man taught him woodsmanship and tracking, fishing and hunting. Even though stern and a demanding taskmaster, his emerald eyes were filled with benevolent goodness. He spoke to Loki of philosophy and the Creator, teaching him strong morals and a strict code of conduct.
Trips to Atlantis were like going to another world. Before they went, Rhea and Hyperion strongly impressed upon him never to reveal who he was nor whom his mother was. Instead, he was the son of Hyperion’s friend from the coast. Loki did not understand, but complied without reservation.
Loki’s eyes nearly burned with the golden glory of the city. He never knew so many people existed on the planet, let alone in one place. Panic shivered his spine as they packed around him on the busy streets and he clung to Rhea for fear of being trampled. It did not take him long to acclimate, eased by the jubilant feeling filling the air and the cordiality of the People he met. The vast variety of clothing, the colors of the lights and buildings, the smoothness of the boulevards, the music echoing down the streets reverberated inside of him and Loki knew he had to live here and soon. Strangely, Rhea refused to take him only one place. The Great Pyramid glowing in the city center. She gave no explanation. She simply refused.
Loki detested going home with a passion. He could never share his excitement or experiences with Amelia. If she realized he gained any pleasure at all from his trips, she maliciously denied him further visits. Loki learned quickly to lie about what he did, acting dejected when he returned. He told her Rhea treated him like a slave, forcing him to clean and work for his food. That seemed to satisfy the loathsome woman and made her happy to send him away again.
Now here he was on the adventure of all adventures. Loki was leaving the entire continent, going to an island of mystical proportions, a magical land where the People and the Clan lived in peace and harmony. He had never seen a living Izon and had a million questions for them. Thanks to Keramec, he could speak their language fluently and wanted to learn more of his heritage from them, but Rhea and Hyperion told him to proceed with caution. It was best to keep his mixed linage to himself for a while, but it was his choice to decide when the time was right.
They stopped at the top of a small rise and Home spread out before them, so different from the city of Atlantis. An enormous lake lay as a glistening center piece to the vast plains below sparkling like a majestic blue-green jewel, the water almost pitch black at the center with unfathomed depths. Cabins of wood and stone dotted the shoreline, separated by expansive green fields of growing crops, colorful gardens and gravel roads that followed the contours of the land instead of the
will of man. Veldts of tall, green and yellow grasses and dark forests encircled the community, rainbows of wildflowers tossed about as if scattered by the hand of the Creator. Far off in the distance, snowcapped, rugged mountains rose into the white, fluffy clouds of an endless blue sky.
On one edge of the lake, a small harbor held two massive sailing ships and wharfs lined with fishing boats and pleasure craft. Paved roads fanned out from the docks surrounded by a few warehouses and shops, busy in the late morning hours. A single, wide boulevard stretched from the waterfront to the center of the beautiful city of Home. Unlike Atlantis, no shining pyramid dominated the landscape. No fingers of silver, glass, crystal or golden spires rose to touch the azure sky. No giant, cold, granite slab constructions or walls divided the streets into dark alleyways untouched by the sun. In fact, few buildings rose above a mere two stories.
“Well, are you going to going to continue to gape,” Hyperion laughed joyously, ruffling Loki’s black, wavy hair, “or would you care to go into the city?”
He grabbed the beaming boy by the nape and steered him toward the sled. Loki kept looking over his shoulder, his mahogany eyes as wide as saucers, the grin on his full, dark lips nearly splitting his face in two. Never had Hyperion seen the young man so deliriously happy, so full of excitement and wonder. It touched him deep in his soul to see the dour boy so delighted after all the pain the child had endured in his short life. He was glad Rhea thought to bring Loki to this place. Hyperion knew it would do the both of them good.
“Now remember our cautions,” Rhea said, turning around in the seat of the sled, reminding Loki of their earlier discussions. “Everyone here speaks the languages of both the People and the Izon. They will know what your name means. It would behoove you to use the name Lokoda while in Home. It will save you a great deal of explanations. As far as your mixed blood, take some time before telling anyone. You will know who to trust and when. If anyone asks, you are simply the son of Amelia. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Lady Rhea. Do not worry,” Loki replied, bouncing in seat, eager to get out. “Can we go now? Please?”
“Let the boy out, Rhea!” Hyperion laughed loudly as he exited the sled and opened the door for Loki. “I fear he will explode if we do not.”
Haleah and Morpheus stood on their front porch waving when they pulled up and settled on the low cut, green grass in front of the house. They looked at each other grinning widely as the child tumbled out of the sled onto the soft ground. Haleah met Rhea halfway up the pebbled path and pulled the woman into a tight embrace, happy to see her friend once again.
“And who might this young man be?” she asked, extending her hand to the boy.
Loki stood stunned and shy, his lips partly open as he stared at Haleah. He knew her name and the stories about her, but he never saw a holo of her. She was not at all what he expected. She was Izon. Loki expected her to look more stunted and brutish, dark haired with a thick brow ridge. Instead, she could have been a sister of Rhea. Dressed in a long, light green dress, belted at the waist by a wide, black leather band and high ebony boots, she was beautiful. Her honey-blond hair shimmered in the golden sunlight, swaying around her in the light breeze blowing in from the lake behind the cabin. An ornately tooled, forest green head band kept it away from eyes the same ocean blue as Rhea’s. Haleah’s body was tall and of a shape even a young boy could admire, her legs long and muscled, her skin the color of smoothed bronze. Her full, rose-colored lips cocooned him in a warm, radiant smile.
“This boy rudely gaping at you is Lokoda.” Rhea grinned at the rosy flush covering Loki’s face as he dropped his eyes to the ground. She placed a hand on his flat shoulder and gave him a light squeeze. “This is Haleah, Keeper of the Izon.”
“I am Keeper no more,” Haleah smiled, taking Loki’s hand in hers. “There has been no need of a Keeper in many years. Now I am simply a mother. Nice to meet you, Lokoda.”
“This is the boy I have heard so much about,” came a happy, rich, baritone voice. Morpheus clasped Loki by his broad, square shoulders and looked him over, his smile welcoming and kind. “You did not tell me he was such a strapping lad! You do not look like you are only eleven! How did you become so big?”
Loki still could not speak. He stood in awe of the legendary Morpheus, Commander of the Aam who freed the Izon from captivity. The giant of a man looked like a raven-haired bird of prey, towering above him, his black, wavy hair billowing around his square-jawed face like an onyx corona. Eyes of ebony, twinkling with delight, assessed the boy and did not find him lacking. Muscles rippling with power covered his chest beneath a dark tan leather vest and down his shirtless copper arms. The beige breeches he wore sheathed his thick legs like a second skin, tucked into calf-high, black boots. His massive hands on Loki’s shoulders felt as he could crush the boy with no effort at all.
“Does he speak?” Morpheus asked, his eyes dancing in the sunshine, glancing at Hyperion standing beside him.
“He does. Sometimes too much,” Hyperion chided. “I think it is your greatness that stuns the child. I admit, I, too, have trouble speaking in your presence at time.”
“Since when have you ever had trouble babbling?” Haleah laughed, punching him in a brawny shoulder.
“I…I…I am sorry,” Loki stammered, his face a bright red. “I am Lokoda. Please forgive me my rudeness.”
“No need,” Morpheus replied. “It is nice to meet you, sir. Welcome to our home.”
“Would you like to meet my girls, Lokoda?” Haleah asked. “They and their friends are out by the lake swimming and setting up a lunch for us all.”
“Yes, Lady,” Loki managed to say without stuttering. “I would like that very much.”
“Well, come this way then,” Haleah said with a sweet smile, taking the boy’s hand and leading him to the crystal clear waters of the lake. The men took step alongside her, chatting happily as they went.
Rhea followed slightly behind the rest, looking forward to watching the boy see the Izon for the first time. True, she had her own reasons for spending so much time with Loki and for bringing him here, but she must admit being with the child warmed her frozen heart and brought an honest smile to her lips. She had grown to care for the boy. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, she despised herself for what she must do to him.
Chapter XVI
By summer’s end, the green grassland faded into yellowish stalks, tall and swaying like waves on the lake in the stiffening winds blowing down from the mountains. The landscape blazed with the myriad shades of reds, golds, blues and yellows of autumn leaves and late season wildflowers. Only the dark groves of massive pines and firs retained their deep green colors though the brushless ground beneath them lay under a prickly blanket of dead brown quills.
Loki worked in the gardens along with his friends harvesting the crops of maize, vegetables and potatoes and laying them up in the storehouses for the coming winter. He climbed the trees in the huge orchards of apples, cherries, peaches, plums and oranges, sometimes eating as much as he picked until his stomach ached at the end of the day. He scratched his arms to bloody ribbons picking blueberries and raspberries in the thorny brambles within the forests, cooled by the thick canopy above. He never worked so hard in his life, yet he was never happier.
Loki was the talk of the town and, at first, it frightened him to his very core. The people of Home marveled at his strength and endurance. He was bigger and stronger than most of the boys his age with his six foot height and barrel chest. His burly arms were as large as the legs of his friends while his legs looked like the trunks of small trees. The muscles of his young body were sculpted by the Creator and the envy of his brother-friends. He could lift half again more than the strongest of the other children his age. His face, though still puffy with the softness of youth, was strikingly handsome with his shining mahogany eyes, straight, narrow nose and ample pink lips. His ebony hair cascaded over his flat shoulders in shimmering waves and down to his narrow waist, glistening in the g
low of the sun with an almost blue-like reflection. Older girls flocked around him, batting their eyelashes and making flattering comments he did not know what to make of or how to handle.
Loki remembered the hot summer night a month back when he sat on the front porch alone with Haleah, staring out at the sparkling waters of the lake. The moon took a break from spreading its silver glow upon the landscape, resting in darkness on the other side of the world. That did not mean it was true dark by any measure. The vast, endless sky that spread across the plains to the invisible northern mountains shone with the sparkling diamonds of countless stars. Bands of red, purple and yellow galaxies stretched across the heavens painted by the brushstrokes of the Creator’s own hand. Loki felt small and insignificant under the blanket of such majesty.
“What troubles you so?” Haleah asked him from her swaying porch swing. “Are you not happy here?”
“Oh, yes, Lady,” he replied quietly, pulling his gaze from the wonder of the sky. He sat on a wooden rocking chair near the rails of the deck, leaning forward, his hands clasped upon his knees. “I have never known such joy. I thank you so much. I wish I could live here forever.”
“Then what seems to be the problem?” A small smile touched Haleah’s lips. She knew what was coming which is why she asked Morpheus to keep the girls inside. The question had been in his eyes for weeks, easy to read in his sidelong glances in her direction when he thought she did not see. It hung on his pursed lips as he watched her with the People and the Izon and at dinner time with her family gathered around her. She did not press him, waiting until he was ready to ask.
“I have something to ask, but I do not wish to offend.”
“You will not,” Haleah assured him, placing a hand over his fists. “Please go ahead.”
Loki nodded nervously, looked into her kindly blue eyes and gulped down his fear.