The Echoes of Solon

by D S S Atkinson

The echoes of Solon

  By D S S Atkinson

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  Copyright 2014 D S S Atkinson

  This novel is a work of fiction.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system, without the permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  Chapter 1.

  The star of Poseidon shone brighter than any other celestial body in the cloudless night sky high above the Atlantic Ocean, in this day known to its people as Ra Atl’Antek. Many miles beneath the calm dark a small fleet of reed woven bow ships cut lightly through the still sea leaving a trail of foaming white waves in the wake of their oars and sterns. There was a distinct intention to their route that had been covered for generations by the ancestors of those who steered them.

  Guided north east by the dominant star, Thu’Ra gazed upwards at the blanket of lights covering the endless horizon. The twilight lit up the soft water surface generating a vast mirror across the sea. He stared at the glowing entities, measuring them through his cross staff with an ever growing interest. Although he was his king’s chosen leader in war, his true interests laid in the stars and all the mysteries they held. Come to me, the lone thought lingered in his mind without leading to another. With fascination he looked up into the cosmos to study the great shimmering spheres, though at this time of year few burned with such prominence as the star of Poseidon.

  Stood at the vessel’s beak, he lowered the staff and gazed once more out across the dark ocean with hope in his eyes. He had been away from home for the last sixteen lunar cycles and his muscles and bones ached from the conquests his king had endeavoured him with upon the continent to the south west, known in his tongue as Amek’Ra.

  Turning, he rest upon a small supply crate, requiring him to squat deeply for his tall athletic frame. He gazed through capturing pale blue eyes across his soldiers who rowed through the tranquil waters. Sweat poured over their light brown skin despite the constant cold air of the night time sea flowing over them. Tem’Rus was already looking as his leader’s gaze fell upon him, the soldier nodded with respect and felt gratitude to see the gesture returned.

  Glancing down, Thu’Ra drifted into a trance. The colossus clutched at a gold encircled cross that hung from his neck via a transparent orichalcum chain. His thoughts fell upon his life partner whom he longed to see. The circular frame mapped his capital, outlining the canals and irrigated waterways that separated and surrounded Atlantis. He ran his finger slowly up and down the centre canal, each time he reached the midst of the cross between the circles he paused and saw his love’s face, her standing, waiting for him in the same place she always stood when he returned from war. The smell of wisteria that emanated from her long golden locks and warmth of her naked slender body pressing against his filled his imagination and tricked the senses of his un-shapely nose which had been broken many times over in combat. Upon closing his eyes to embrace her the Atlantean sea captain’s voice broke his dreamy state.

  “The first titan becomes visible, chosen. How will you have us docked upon arrival? The injured are in dire need of our priests’ assistance.” With excitement the first chosen’s large elongated skull swung wildly around, at sight of the golden titan mega structure’s immortal face he released a quiet sigh of joyful relief. Thu’Ra stood up from the wooden box towering above Eba, the chosen was a giant compared to his company.

  Without breaking his fixation upon the gold titan’s face Thu’Ra spoke to his captain in the only tongue he knew and understood. “The kings of Atl’An wait for me beneath the temple of Poseidon, Eba, have the ships that carry the injured harboured in the docks of Tyram. Ensure to it personally they are given the aid they require, and have their names and the names of the fallen written in the books of history, their deeds shall be remembered for all of time.”

  “I’ll see to it, chosen, should I send a messenger ahead of us to inform Atl’As of your victories in the west?”

  His leader did not reply, he cared little for his own prominence. Thu’Ra did not know war until it was too late. Dedication to his ancient king and respect for the honours which were bestowed upon him trapped him. War was something he despised so much, though he convinced himself he fought for the welfare of his people and it was enough to see him fulfil Atl’As’ commandments guiltlessly.

  The gold of the first titan glistened gloriously under the bright night time stars, it stood with arms held up and palms spread, holding up the skies of the world. Thu’Ra clutched the cross of his home that had been gifted to him by his love upon the eve of their binding ever tighter. He stared at the wondrous statue from within his etched skull. It stood amidst the centre canal of Atlantis upon white glinting gypsum pillars, they rose majestically out of the manmade waterway supporting the gigantic feat of engineering that had taken a generation to complete.

  Twenty feet to either side of the pillars the outer walls of the Atlantean capital began. Approaching the city from the water the walls appeared as though they rose straight out of the ocean, for they were constructed upon the very edge of the landmass. They encircled the entire city, breaking only to give way to three other canals, each flowing from both the ocean and greater island which stretched off to the north east. Each man made canal flowed to the centre of Atlantis, allowing water to course freely throughout the city for all kinds of irrigation and social means.

  The brass covered outer walls, which curved very slightly inwards giving the appearance of a roofed dome, rose sixty feet into the skies all about the city. The smooth dim golden tint gave the entire place an appearance of alien origin, so masterfully enclosed and well designed it was.

  “Make haste, my companions, you are men of reverence now. You each have my greatest respect for your loyalty. We are home.” Smiling at those upon his bow ship the first chosen turned back to look outwards from the reed vessel’s beak. His crew immediately cheered and with a new found fervour heaved their fleet across the calm Atlantic Ocean. The excitement in Thu’Ra’s mind blocked out most thoughts of anything rational, he knew the quicker his men rowed down the centre canal of Atlantis the sooner he could rest his gaze upon Kotu.

  In an abrupt outburst just beside Thu’Ra the haunting tone of his people’s horn of war bellowed out across the water. Eba blew into the cylinder with all his might, his brown face glowing red for the moment. The veins in his neck and forehead looked ready to burst. The horns unique design gave it a deep groaning sound that carried upon the wind for many miles, whilst a second chamber released a horrifically high pitch that would cause a man unaccustomed to its resonance to cringe with a wince of disgust. When combined the sound was like nothing natural the Atlanteans knew.

  Moments after the desecrating pitch sounded out another plain horn groaned from within the walls of the magnificent city. A number of small boats became scarcely visible moving from between the gypsum pillars of the first titan, and firelights momentarily after lit up, giving a clear view of the homeward bound heroes return route. The subduing fatigue of endless days rowing evaporated from their systems at the sight for the thought of their beds and families numbed their bodies. With all that was left of their resolve they lugged the boats into a slip stream flowing between the titan’s golden legs.

  It was not until they floated between the gigantic platforms that the beauty of Atlantis’ outer districts became visible. A glistening white gypsum walkway ran alongside the water’s edge of the centre canal’s turquoise stream, leading right up to the centre isle of Atlantis, and joining at the head of the canal, continued on to the very base of Poseidon
’s temple.

  Atlantean horns could now be heard far off in the distance, all about the city, and all along the canal fires began to burn brightly. Just past the widths of the gypsum walkways lines of gargantuan white pillars upheld the roofs of great temples leading along the waterfront in each district. In an outbreak of chatter and excited shouts flocks of Atlantean citizens suddenly appeared from amidst the temple pillars, they rushed onto the vast pristine walkways to hail their first chosen.

  The crowds were so numerous their speech blocked out even the resonance of roaring horns, with them masses of white horses and lambs were lead to the water’s edge. The white clothed citizens began cheering and calling out their first chosen’s name. Thousands flocked the gypsum pavements carrying baskets and bundles full of foods and spices that they hurriedly rested upon the canal surface in offer to those returning from war. Plentiful hampers full of fruits and nuts, oranges, bananas, coconuts, chestnuts and an unending range of other edible platters were let to float out towards the vessels incoming.

  With an eruption of wild flapping, birds burst from the first district and beyond the second pristine tin lined wall of Thu’Ra’s home. Giant albatross were released into the sky in their hundreds, and as the heavens became engulfed in a display of heavily beating wings a second flock of birds were released into the sky in twice the numbers. Atlantic puffins now flew up rapidly amidst the giant albatross, and as quickly as they had been released, in numbers twice as many as the puffins, tropical birds of all imaginable colours were hurled upwards between the white canvas that blocked out the darkness of the sky. The colours mingled and expanded exploding a great display of twisting entertainment above the soldier’s heads on such a grand scale that it captivated the men rowing their reed boats, greatly slowing up the congregation of returning ships.

  The crowds now completely filled the gypsum walkway of the primary canal, continuing to cheer whilst the flocking birds generated a vast display above their heads. Thu’Ra’s boat floated past the second wall of his home that encircled the second district. This tin lined wall, which curved at its pinnacle much more steeply than the copper, giving the impression that it folded over the inner canal as a tunnel, was so well buffed and kept that it reflected the gypsum stone buildings and walkways with a staggering potency. Even under the darkness of night the wall’s bright reflection lit up the city like a never diminishing flame left to burn in the midst of a pitch black chamber.

  Passing between the glistening tin lined walls of the second district the huge golden statue of his god became visible in the black sky, dimly reflecting the flickering firelight at the base of the temple upon which the statue rested. Poseidon’s wise eyes glared out eternally along the length of the city’s central canal. It would be yet another several hundred feet along the waterway however before Thu’Ra could relive the moment he had dreamt of near every passing moment away from the secure compounds of his home.

  Whilst the crowds continued to flock from the pillars along Atlantis’ central canal, and their chants and screams resonated above all other sounds in the city, Thu’Ra looked back at his bow ships. Eba had since traversed between vessels and joined the lead ship that held the injured Atlanteans. The first chosen nodded at his captain before they turned into the second circular canal system that ran parallel on the inside of the bright tin wall.

  The seventh king of Atlantis, Tyram, was a man of great faith, his district was comprised near completely of temples and chapels, catacombs and cleansing houses in which the injured could be tended to and the dead put to rest. Twenty six of the twenty seven bow ships turned a sharp right, following the canal to the harbour in the inner district of Atlantis. Only his own boat now continued rowing down the centre canal.

  The third and final, inner wall of Atlantis, which encircled the inner canal and landmass, all crafted in an unknown number of hours by masterfully skilled craftsmen and labourers, was constructed of pure orichalcum. Bar the colour spectrum flowing through the wall when looked through at certain angles upon a sunny day, the impeccable structure was perfectly transparent. Although the majority of its citizens were restricted from entering the midst of the city they each had an un-obscured view of all that occurred upon its isle.

  The wall did not always stand as the middle and outer walls did upon construction of the infinitely grand city, bridges once passed to the centre island and the residents of Atlantis were welcome and free to pray to their god at the very base of his temple, though the temple itself was never accessible. With each passing generation a stranger and stranger secrecy began to enshroud Atl’As and the temple. As people began to whisper of his immortality and question the truth, it was announced that a prophecy had been told, the bridges must be relinquished and the island left to Poseidon and his sons.

  The temple’s gypsum pillars resided atop a fertile hill of greenery that lead visibly down to the manmade structures, encircling the outskirts of the glistening white harbour walkway, far away from the temple of Poseidon. The island was little more than a mile across, cut perfectly circular, as was the rest of the city. Upon this isle Atl’As and his closest kin resided, there were few structures other than the temple itself at the midst. It was inhabited only by the most revered of Atlantean citizens.

  The moment Thu’Ra had dreamt of suddenly struck his eyes. In the midst of the darkness, far ahead of him past the harbour that encircled the heart of his home, the figures of those waiting for their chosen’s return stood. He no longer saw the faces of the ever massing crowds, nor the colourful display above his head, he did not hear his people chanting his name nor the orchestra of horns resonating across his home. There was only one face he saw now.

  There stood his love, her bright blue eyes glared across the canal from where she had stood all day, every day, since her life partner had departed from the city’s port.

  Thu’Ra gazed upon her and the troubles of his mind evaporated. His first born son stood by her side clutching at a golden dress that hung loosely from Kotu’s tall slim frame. She held his second son in her arms, the chosen stuttered at sight of him playing with her thick blonde locks, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. Thu’Ra had yet to see his youngest son or hold him in his arms for he had been born whilst his father was away in the west. Kotu’s delicate face displayed a subtly broken smile and as her eyes welled with tears she did not know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of her hero.

  The first chosen did not break eye contact with Kotu nor move a muscle until his vessel had at last come to rest within the harbour beneath the temple of Poseidon.

  The reed woven boat came to a steady halt at a stairwell leading up to the walkway surrounding the inner isle of Atlantis. Thu’Ra stepped onto the glistening stone floor still staring at his life partner. Kotu handed her youngest son to a servant and stood waiting to be embraced. She pressed her lips together, smiling uncontrollably. Unable to refrain from being overcome with raw emotion a stream of tears fell down her dimpled cheeks.

  Exhausted, he lurched across the pavement and they embraced. For much time he held her, although she was tall his enormous muscularity still dwarfed her, she relished his strong controlled grip about her that never failed to give a feeling of safety that she knew not from another person.

  Opening his eyes he looked down to see his eldest son looking up at him, as though he was looking up into the clouds at a giant. Thu’Ra released his grip from Kotu and knelt down the great distance to look upon his son at his own head height. He rested a heavy hand upon his shoulder.

  “The star of Poseidon is bright tonight, my boy.” Thu’Ra smiled at Thu’Rus though the child shyly clutched upon his mother’s dress in silence. The chosen’s face fell to gloom before Kotu stepped forward and kissed his cheek, taking his hand she turned about and lead him towards the pathway that lead all the way up to the glistening pillars of the temple at the very heart of Atlantis.

  With the crowds still cheering at their first chosen’s return, Atl’As, and the
nine kings of Atlantis retired to the temple of Poseidon with their loyal subjects following in silence.