The Echoes of Solon

by D S S Atkinson

Chapter 17.

  Thu’Ra crashed deep beneath the delta’s murky water surface, barely escaping the eruption of flames now consuming his men’s reed transports. The blistering heat rapidly resided giving way to a cool influx of Nile water that soaked his skin. He took great strokes beneath, propelling himself effortlessly with his muscular limbs until he knew it would be safe to emerge.

  Amidst his excitement he was troubled by a feeling of anxiety and confusion. He breached the dark water gasping deeply for breath, the chosen peered about his surroundings, quickly gathering that his men were safe. Hundreds of them began to appear from beneath, making efforts not to disturb the river surface. They did not wish to alert themselves to their enemy. The Atlanteans were proficient swimmers and spared little time in progressing up river where a second dispatch of reed boats awaited to retrieve the fleeing army.

  They huddled together towards the river’s centre. As they swam Thu’Ra watched the marshy riverbanks come alive. They stirred in a most peculiar fashion appearing to slide inwards towards the water’s edges. He paid little heed and did not notice masses of dark protruding nostrils begin sinisterly making their way towards his men.

  The lingering oddities circled and patiently encroached upon their unsuspecting prey. Many of them lay dormant. Those that heard the disturbance however awaited the perfect moment before bursting to life.

  With a whimper the first men were plucked beneath the waves, silently, those who saw them vanish whispered out in confusion. Thu’Ra gazed to the head of his men, unaware the lingering jaws of death were surrounding and among them already. The brief moment of joy he had taken as the cold delta water consumed him was suddenly lost. A heavy spray of red foam burst up from beneath, from the explosion rose a ghastly sight, between two colossal rows of glinting white teeth was clasped the crushed skull of an Atlantean warrior.

  His men’s orders to remain silent were all but forgotten upon sight of a hulking scaly white stomach rising out of the water, carrying the deceased male. A second colossal head breached the surface, nothing more than an endless jaw of razor sharp fangs, it lunged up and grasped the dead man’s waste before abruptly rolling about, exposing its thick green skin and giant clawed upper limbs. With a ferocious snarl the green beast clutching the limp body’s skull pulled away from its competitor, separating the torso with a disgusting chortle of dislocating bones and shredding sinew.

  A string of bloody intestines and innards fell from the mangled upper body causing a mass of ripples to stir the delta further, the murky red blotches of water were immediately darkened more by an uncontrollable wave of Atlantean vomit and involuntarily released bowels. “They’re everywhere!” A young warrior screamed out to his peers before an eruption of dirt and water engulfed him, dragging him deep beneath to the darkness. The chosen could never have known his men were to delve into a consuming pit of death.

  “Remain calm and head for the river bend!” Little unsettled him, but these blooded monsters were horrific like nothing he knew. Paranoia consumed him for thought that every leg stroke he took beneath the surface could be his last. He grasped tightly upon Kotu’s golden cross and heaved himself through the water. The beasts were so enormous he knew his men could not combat them, they could only watch as friends and family were torn away. Men began crying, calling out to their lost brethren. In the turmoil those that hesitated were those that joined the fate of the fallen.

  “Protect the chosen!”

  “You swim for your own lives!” Their leader immediately retorted to the strained voice that called warriors to aid him. He did not feel he deserved his own life for the deeds he had already committed this day. The Atlanteans had not planned to come into collision with a navy. The chosen was quickly learning just how many ways a plan so perfect in words could so easily be riddled with an endless number of problems.

  “Ahead! Bow ships!” The feeling of fearful anxiety did not reside upon hearing those words. Behind him the water exploded endlessly amidst sounds of grizzled gnarling and crunching bones. Ahead the delta was calm, to be free from these waters was the only thing that raced through his mind.

  “Do not look back! Atlanteans, come for us!” At Thu’Ra’s words those resting upon a second dispatch of transport vessels came alive, rowing with all their commitment to heave their countrymen out of danger. Upon contact with the reed bow ships the warriors began scrambling aboard, many of them breathing desperately in shock and fear. Eba rushed his own vessel towards Thu’Ra and hurled himself over the starboard bowel to grab at the giant’s arms. With a yell he dragged the chosen over the reed side and watched him slink into the ship’s deck.

  “Get us away from this place, Eba.” Thu’Ra breathed awkwardly, uneasily clutching at the golden cross, he appeared stricken in some daze of disbelief.

  “Thu’Ra? Why is there such panic? What happened?” The chosen stared at Eba’s feet, resting upon the vessel, he shook his elongated head rigidly.

  “There was something in the water,” he mumbled. “They were eaten alive.” His eyebrows fell. Confused, Eba began rowing up river towards the safety of Poseidon’s warships.

  Within the passing moments the chosen gathered himself and sat up right to observe his surrounding fleet. Many of them looked towards his vessel as if to ensure he was secure. Thu’Ra nodded his head repeatedly, looking about. “To the Parting Sea!” His words were repeated though the shaken warriors merely mumbled amongst themselves for shock still gripped them.

  “What of the Equi’Dae, chosen?” Thu’Ra shook his head.

  “I don’t know, Eba, I fear the last of the orichalcum failed before our king and queen safely arrived.”

  “Chosen?” Eba looked back down the river, past his leader who continued to shake his head.

  “Something went wrong, I think the Equi’Dae crashed as the sunstone set our vessels ablaze, the light faded so quickly. I pray we were hidden, I pray they’re safe.”

  “But the men of the delta attacked you?”

  “No, not men, some beasts... something I’ve ever seen. Enormous, rows of teeth, and power... such power.” Still the chosen’s breathing had not regulated, he sat slumped in the reed bow ship. Eba had rarely seen his leader shaken. He shivered at his words for thought of whatever was hidden beneath the dark water surface.

  “How will we know if Tetu’Ra and Ma’At are safe, chosen?” Still shaking his head, Thu’Ra spoke quietly.

  “We won’t until we bring the boy to them.”

  “And if they don’t come?” He took a deep breath and sighed.

  “Then I’ve failed Atl’As.” The chosen rested arms upon knees and sat lifelessly, he caressed the golden cross allowing his thoughts to drift to the centre canal of Atlantis and his love’s beautiful face. Eba fell silent, knowing his leader sought a moment’s peace. He could not relax himself, straining with each heave of the bow ship’s oars, attempting to be away from the deceitfully peaceful waterway.