Chapter 14.
Carried by the Mediterranean winds and the strength of two thousand elite Hellenic sea veterans, what was left of the Athenian navy had made great progress across the waters separating Panthea from Sais. Theleos’ cunning eyes stared intently out across the ships, their crewmen chanting to unite their rows over the sound of the calmly washing waves.
They parted from Panthea with haste upon Theleos’ arrival at the enormous port town, the moment he uttered word from Arbephest to their legendary leader the waters amidst its heavily guarded walls came alive and fell dead again just as quickly. The young guard captain’s gaze more often than not fell upon the lion of Panthea, warlord Crastan, though it had been many harvests since the warrior had stepped down from his post, few still stood that demanded such respect nor oozed with such prestige.
Few moments passed when the captain did not imagine himself standing at that most renowned rank, warlord. Bitterness consumed him every day, if only he had been granted the title by his king before his younger peer, Arbicos, he would never have tasks put upon him by men he felt himself superior to.
They rowed out of the docks in just sixteen trireme, they were the only vessels left in pristine condition. Each ship harboured one hundred and twenty sea veterans, made up of vessel captains, navigators, watchmen and deckhands, making for a heavy bustle upon each tightly packed boat.
Two enormous masts rose from the midst of each upper deck, towards the sterns and beaks. Their strewn linen had been engulfed with air all the way across the Mediterranean, heaving the vessels through the sea.
The sea air carried Theleos’ long hair about his slim unmemorable face. He looked upon the lion of Panthea with a wondrous obsession, recalling how, as he first took to the ranks of the Athenian military, he believed the warlord and Arbephest to have been father and son, so alike was their insanity.
The burly warrior stood an example of what the worst experiences of war could do to a man. To conclude the last rebellions of the west, Crastan lead the Athenian navy to confront a fleet gathered from flocks of nations strung together in search of empire and conquer. Few lived to tell the tale, the warlord returned to Greece a hero, but injured beyond ability to lead an army at war again.
His right arm came to a stub at his elbow. Bound to it via a sturdy leather attachment the blade of a bronze sword hung to replace what was left of his limb. His right eye too was missing, a deep grim hole sunk into his face and the right of his mouth hung as though his jaw had once been savagely broken and never healed. His aged visage and balding head was set to stone, such a contrast to Theleos’ own un-war bound features.
“They say he makes no effort to cover his wounds to salute those that fell at his command, captain.” A greying deckhand stood by the young male’s side, starring too in awe at the lion.
“What does he say?” The sea veteran shook his head.
“He speaks to no man of his past.” For a moment they continued to gaze upon the old warrior before their musing was interrupted.
“The delta rests ahead, captain!” From the crow’s nest above a crewmate yelled out to Theleos, who abruptly turned to action. He span about and made haste to the trireme’s mast, there he ascended upwards a number of pegs and holding a hand up to shade his eyes from the glare of the sun looked out across the sea. With a struggle he could vaguely make out the faintest traces of dense jungle lining the Egyptian coast.
His intellectual gaze showed little evidence that within he was planning how he would harbour his fleet and be gone from this strange place without gaining attention from the Egyptian sovereign.
It was no secret that the king of Egypt was an unruly, cruel leader. The news which Theleos carried caused a nervousness within the young man for he could not truly be sure of the security of his own life. Despite being in the company of two thousand Athenian warriors and the lion of Panthea, it brought little comfort to his nerves. It was rumoured that Apep kept Sais secure from sunrise to sunset, and through each moonlit night, holding the entirety of the Egyptian military amidst its ancient walls.
A feeling of unease began to subdue the man’s confidence. His jealous mind returned to the image of his rival. His hatred of Arbicos expanded each time he heard the male’s name muttered by warriors or labourers alike. In his arrogance he could not understand why a man three harvests his junior could possibly stand above him after all the years he had served his nation so loyally.
Though he was no sycophant, Theleos was always first to step forward and serve, not for devotion however, but secretly for self gain. In the presence of his superiors he was an outstanding, reliable soldier, despite his lust for everything they possessed. It was not just their status either, frequently did the male pleasure himself at the imaginary image of laying with his warlord’s wife. Anna was on the male’s thoughts near as often as his fantasies of attaining an ever higher status amongst his nation.
While the vessels approached ever closer to the delta a call came across the stirring ocean from a trireme closest to Theleos’ starboard. “Captain! The Athanei reports a vessel of unknown origins visible upon the eastern horizon!” He spun about and leapt over to the starboard gangway, staring out himself he could see nothing but the endless blue.
“Just one?” He glanced at the soldier whose name he knew not.
“Yes, captain!” The very moment he spoke Theleos heard another cry from vessels further to the east of his fleet, and the same Athenian warrior call out once more, much to Theleos’ distress. “The Athanei can see three vessels now, captain!”
Theleos looked out once more for himself, and whether it was a distortion of the water or truly there, a dark blot was visible, he took a deep breath and thought in silence for a moment before being disturbed by a male who looked as though he had barely taken his turn into maturity.
“We should send a vessel back to Panthea and alert the king, captain.” The idea struck Theleos as a sensible one, but he lusted to prove himself to his peers, especially in the presence of Crastan, to show he did not need to rely on the commands of his leaders to succeed.
“Onwards to the delta! Athenian, keep reporting their advance!” Onwards! The word reverberated above the sounds of the sea waves and the men rowing their ships continued the laborious task of reaching the Egyptian delta.
“Why do we continue, captain? It’s clear they’re catching up!”
“Seven vessels upon the horizon, captain! They’re huge!” Theleos huffed deeply, maintaining focus upon the thick green jungle lining the coasts of Egypt. So it’s true.
“All hands to oars!” The captain called out, struggling to make his voice heard beyond the first five vessels in his fleet, before it was echoed by near every crewmate who heard it.
“We should turn back, captain.” The young male’s adolescent voice was beginning to irritate Theleos.
“If they’re hostile, lad, they’ll intervene us,” he looked at the boy, “we can still make it safely to the delta -”
“If they’re hostile we should turn about and fight!”
“The Egyptians must be informed, now get in the hull and row!” His unchanging face scarcely showed an emotion as he yelled at the young Athenian, after some moments of hesitance he obeyed his captain with a look of scorn.
“Their numbers are beyond count, captain!” Theleos turned to gaze off the starboard and was stricken in shock, Hephaestus, keep me safe, to the furthest extents of his vision the vessels ranked, their fleet so wide it blocked out the horizon.
“Sound the drums!” His own vessel was closest to the Egyptian delta, he knew he could reach it but not before the unidentified ships encroaching from the ocean were already upon him. “To the east! Prepare to engage!” The trireme were little more than battering rams upon the ocean, it was their sheer size and weight that allowed them to reign supreme upon the Mediterranean Sea. No woodwork could hold against such impact, their reinforced beaks demolished anything they were rowed into. Those who were not sunk by brute force would be boarded
, and their crew suffer a far worse fate than to painlessly drown beneath the waves.
With the Athenian drums thudding away, every trireme slowed up. Each captain heard Theleos’ command and gave their own order for their vessels to be turned east and sound their drums of war. Word quickly spread. Theleos himself remained quiet, his own trireme coming to a slow stall, now carried only by the enormous sails high above.
“When should we turn, captain?” The youthful Athenian spoke up once more though was ignored, for Theleos continued to gaze silently through his cunning eyes. Each vessel but his own was commanded. The rowing soldiers skilfully worked in unison, alternating their strokes to gradually turn the gigantic wooden constructs about in the water. The unidentifiable fleet that had not long ago been barely visible upon the horizon enclosed upon them. The white sea foam created in the wakes of their hulls was clearly visible, and despite each Athenian who could see them being a fearless man of war, standing in the face of the unknown is a terrible thing.
Shaking himself from his hesitance the captain turned about and looked down the gangway of his ship. “Continue towards the delta!”
“You would leave your own kinsmen?”
“You are no captain of Arbephest.” A number of his crew yelled at him, the words they uttered struck him deeply, creeping doubt into him, perhaps he was no leader.
“We cannot even be sure they’re hostile!” One of his peers rose from his oar to defend the captain, and as though the great looming shadow that approached ever faster upon the Athenian fleet was waiting for a queue before it acted, every soldier aboard the trireme suddenly grasped for their ears and cringed. The horrific pitch that the men were yet to hear burst forth, curdling in the afternoon air above the Mediterranean Sea. The Athenians looked out to the ocean wincing in pain.
“Hades lives.”
“We should assist our kinsmen, captain! Let’s crush these bastards and let their bodies rot beneath Hepheastus’ waves!” The crew cheered and hollered at their lookout who yelled down from the crow’s nest. Gripped by nerves, Theleos began to nod before his attention was grasped by a number of his crewmates leaning off the woodwork at the ship’s stern. One of them began to laugh erratically.
“The makers!” He looked back crazily across the gangway, “they’re capsizing them!” Theleos looked up with confusion and hurriedly made way. He stared across the water at the vessel’s whose passengers were now visible to the naked eye. The sea stirred wildly about the enormous ships’ hulls causing Theleos and his crew to freeze in curious anticipation. It seemed some catastrophic power from beneath was about to engulf them before all at once they were stilled and the skies became scattered by enormous oddities of grey and white, propelled upwards by enormous wooden structures.
“By Hephaestus,” a male stood and stared as the invader’s weapons of war were loosed into the air in their hundreds, on course for impact with the minute fleet of Athenian ships.
“Theleos!” The young captain glanced across the sea towards the strained voice of Crastan, he leapt along the trireme’s gangway facing the Athanei. “Get your ship to the delta!” With that order the lion turned about, dismissing Theleos to a cowardly course of life. Without hesitance the young captain returned to his vessel’s beak, hearing the riled voice of a natural leader call out to his men. “Athenians, set course to glory! Row!” With a united chorus of grunts, fifteen triremes began to accelerate towards the endless barrage of ships incoming from the east.
“To the delta!” Theleos called out to his men running across the woodwork, hesitantly they began their pursuit. He could no longer merely pass word to the priests of Sais, he knew he must warn Apep of this vast danger, if his entire army was truly present in the ancient city then there was still hope.
The rowers had scarcely made distance before the sound of water being hailed by great plummets reverberated with a terrifying repetition across the quiet sea. Theleos turned upon hearing the screams of dying men and heavy thudding and splintering of woodwork.
Horrified, he watched one of the gargantuan falling boulders collide atop a trireme beak, its reinforced woodwork was blown apart, spraying shattered timber across the ocean, forcing the entire vessel nose first into the sea. The ship’s enormous stern rose up into the sky catapulting men from the deck into the consuming waters below, many of them clung to anything they could in hopes that they might be saved.
Ahead of the vessels that simply disintegrated at crushing contact with the massive weapons of their enemy, the young captain watched the Athanei, commanded by Crastan, encroach upon their target. The moment Theleos had been waiting for fell upon his gaze, the trireme’s beak headed towards its enemy with great pace, made only more brutal for their mark too travelled at many knots. Much of Theleos’ men left their rowing posts to look upon the destruction and each anxiously stared as the lion of Panthea collided with his target.
Even from afar the sound of cringing woodwork erupted a deafening crunch into the air, colliding head on, the Athanei’s reinforced beak immediately expanded and burst, violently stunting the trireme. Athenians leapt overboard into the sea twenty feet beneath for the hull immediately ruptured all along the vessel’s seams. The invader’s ships were built unlike anything Theleos had seen, not from bulky wood like his own people’s. With a hand held across his mouth he felt all hope dissipate, staring shaken to his core.
“To the delta.” At last the young male spoke up to his enveloped crew. One by one they returned to their posts and began heaving their trireme the remaining distance to the Egyptian waterway. Without letting up their pace the looming enemy warships raced through the gaps in the remaining trireme though their lead ships did not stop. Their titanic hulls pushed through the floating debris and stray Athenians trying desperately to gasp for breath. The captain suddenly shook with fear as he realised their intent. “They come for us! Row Athenians, for your lives!”
The mouth of the delta was close now, his men heaved at their oars with an unfading resolve as the calm sea surrounding the ever enclosing enemy ships began to shake wildly once more. A sound unlike anything Theleos knew consumed his ears. He knew his voyage was at an end.
“Prepare landing boats!”
Though he was a captain, he was not prepared to be the last man stood upon this trireme, he scurried down a crude rope and leapt out towards a paddleboat. An intense piercing pitch engulfed him as he fell through the air causing him to land in a heap upon the woodwork, rocking the vessel wildly. He looked up with an awkward strain at the huge impending enemy craft and immediately cowered for a great explosion shook the water just feet from his boat. Several other impacts smashed straight into the reinforced hull and gangways of his trireme.
Masses of appalling screams yelped out from the deck above. Sea water sprayed into the surf, covering his men, causing a tumultuous wave to spill over the shallow paddleboat’s starboard. The trireme’s masts were snapped in two whilst the unimaginably heavy rocks burst clean through the woodwork all about the ship. Another detonation of destruction caused Theleos to cower for his life, enormous chunks of woodwork and splintered timber sprayed out from his wrecked warship. His minute landing boat stirred helplessly in the gargantuan trireme’s shadow.
A sudden pincer of pain scraped across Theleos’ back forcing him forward, falling into his kinsmen who too recoiled in efforts to avoid the wild scattering wood. He watched one of his crew brutally knocked out of the vessel by the dispersing debris. His body lay face down in the ocean with a thick red stream oozing from his skull. Another abandoner had been speared in the neck and abdomen by stray woodwork killing him instantly. The captain did not hesitate to push the dead weight out of his vessel before grasping at paddles resting upon deck.
“Clear the water! Here,” he threw three of the men oars and desperately they began rowing towards the mouth of the delta. Looking back at the destruction some glimmering flicker of light sparkled from one of the enormous invading ships, causing him to wince. Theleos looked
up at a giant light brown male staring down at him across the sea, hanging from his neck a large circular pendant of what the captain assumed to be polished bronze dazzled reflections of sunlight out across the remnants of the Athenian fleet. “We can make it, together, row.” With little strength left the men began their route into the Egyptian delta. They strained to uphold the boat’s movement but they could not rest for their enemy’s warships began to jolt in the sea once more.
“They will crush us, captain.”
“To the west bank, heave!” Turning the small boat about, with all that was left of their efforts, they rowed towards a shallow river bank at the very mouth of the waterway. Upon changing course a commotion of yelling called out from the enormous towering vessels. Theleos’ five men who had made it into the small landing craft and survived felt its hull beach and each immediately leapt from within. They dragged it up the steep sand bank, leading into the dense Egyptian jungle, though immediately released their grips, scattering at the sound of the jolting vessel’s ceasing movement.
The men leapt up into the trees and watched a mass of hailing boulders fall into the delta where their boat had moments past steered away from. “You see that, captain?” Theleos did not reply through his short staggered breaths. He nodded a number of times to himself.
“We should move before they target the trees, Theleos.”
“Wait.” He whispered, continuing to stare out towards the ocean. Vessel after vessel began to cluster at the mouth of the delta, their design was astounding, the young captain could not understand how such constructions were even capable of taking to water. Dull horns sounded out from the lead ships. Moments after a chorus replied, hundreds of them, each gathering at the waterway entrance.
All at once masses of minute crafts began to scatter outwards from the bowels of each enormous ship, alerting the men’s attention. “Captain?” Theleos nodded.
“Let’s go.” They followed him down towards the wooden boat, crouching in some strange hopes that it might deter their enemy’s view. The moment they stepped out from the trees that ghastly sound bellowed out in the air, joined by an influx of yelling and screaming from the invader’s navy. “Hurry!” Scrambling down the beach with the light woodwork boat in each of their hands, Theleos noticed the odd looking men who corralled at the delta leaping down into their own crafts. Hundreds of them, pouring over the sides of their ships, down into the dwarfed vessels below. The captain could see upwards of ten men per boat, his own being rowed by just four. With intensity they heaved.
It was a great distance from the delta’s mouth to Sais. Theleos lusted to discover some built up area of society so he could begin alerting the Egyptian people of this most abrupt invasion.
Though the men had no time to rest, his mind briefly became calmed for knowledge he was no longer rained upon by those outrageous boulders of his enemy, and for the moment, was away from men who were certainly intent on taking his life.
“By the hand of the makers, captain, what is this?”
“Our makers rest no hand in this, Athenian, these men come from beyond the Pillars, beyond the grasp of Hephaestus.”
“But he doesn’t crush them in his own lands?”
“Perhaps he first confronts their own makers, we can only pray, and hope the Egyptian priests have some answers for us. Keep up your pace, men!” They fell silent as each of their attentions focused upon their physical efforts, there was no time to ponder upon what desecration they had just witnessed.
The Echoes of Solon Page 24