Why the Centaurs had voted for this rube to take the dead Nubian’s place – did the breached dam engulf Lacanesia in some sort of inbreeding craze she was unaware of?
“The number of mouths grows but our harvests do not,” Ruòkelián said sadly. As he spoke, he took turns looking at Penelope and then at the two Gryphons. “Even with more plantings across new lands, farmers can barely keep up; we will see shortages this winter for the first time. Under the weight of over 10,000 bellies to feed, the breadbasket that is our part of Terra Australis weakens just a bit more with each passing year.”
Centaurs fished for themselves of course, but the sea east of Elkabydos was more like a calm bay where little life existed. Hemmed in by glaciers to the north and east and the landmass of Terra Australis to its south; this area contained nowhere near the bounty of the colder, rushing waters north of Atagartis. Soon after Sapiens abandoned Elkabydos, Mermaids set claim to the seas west of the most eastern walls of the first city. At the time, neither the Centaurs nor Arachna bothered to protest. These failed leaders of old had not the foresight to claim the seas where fantastic catches awaited, but the ones of today most certainly wished they had.
The pathetic Huaxia finally focused on Diedrika. “If any Centaur starves this winter, it will be because of you and none other. Can you live with yourself knowing you caused the death of an innocent son or daughter, a beloved mother or father?”
A beaming smile graced Diedrika’s face and she bowed low where her rippling midriff met the top edge of her tail before returning upright. “Every day of my life, Ruòkelián, and happily so.” She kept this smile firm until the three Centaurs finally turned around and, with tails between their quivering legs, left the stadium.
Diedrika did not inflict such penalties to be cruel, but Atagartis was not a charity. That the overflowing harvests from the sea were more than enough to feed every mouth who called their world home made not a shred of difference; for anything received worth receiving, she would gladly pay not just one harvest, but many. Alas, to this point in her reign, the Centaurs had failed to consider anything of such value. They might not have, but she certainly had. As their bellies were not quite empty enough, the time had not yet come to ask for such things, but eventually would.
Well, probably more ‘demand’ than ‘ask’ – was there a difference?
Her premise was simple: Starve the Centaurs until desperation drove them to elect a true leader as Chiron. To impose her will upon one as weak as Ruòkelián….
Where was the fun in that?
Diedrika needed someone who would challenge her not just with words, but action! A certain old friend as a future Chiron, oh yes, who she had in mind would surely fit the bill. Stronger than most, but too sensitive for his and his kind’s own good, this one would indeed be perfect.
It was none other than Queen Marseea herself who convinced Diedrika of the ten percent penalty. She had argued for more, much more, but a cold, calculating Sapien owned a good deal more experience in such matters. “A noose that tightens bit by bit around the neck still kills, but does so stealthily,” Marseea had reminded her.
Diedrika raised herself into Judiascar’s saddle and Penelope did the same into Xavier’s. They then casually made their way to the west end of the stadium where her sky chariot waited. Two of Hakleddamm’s strongest Gryphons waited guard next to it.
“Do you think the Centaurs will obey, my queen?” Judiascar asked. To thank him for this question, Diedrika rubbed her protector’s mane. She then grinned and locked eyes with Penelope.
“Are my expectations for them to do so? Absolutely not!” The others chuckled at her quip. “And truth be told, I am counting on them not to.”
Diedrika and Penelope boarded the sky chariot that could easily seat six. Although it would be too much of a burden for most Gryphons to lead their chariot both ways, Judiascar and Xavier happily hooked themselves up to the front once more. Accounting for a few stops along the way, Diedrika guessed it would probably take at least six full turns of the clepsydra to return to Atagartis. To fill her own belly full of purposeful, satiated will, Centaurs were just the appetizer. As it was not yet noon, this was fitting, for it would be upon the twilight in her own city and among her own kind when she would devour the main course.
*****
The scent of salted air welcomed Diedrika back home as if she was the dearest of friends. A grand sunset bathing the rear of Atagartis in red and orange, playful shadows now peaked through the gaps in the tallest columns of the city and set its eastern avenues ablaze. Diedrika and Penelope exited the sky chariot and stretched for a few moments before they mounted Judiascar and Xavier once more. For the grand finale to her day that awaited her arrival, the two Gryphons would accompany her. Quite simply, there were times when a queen just had to show off a little muscle.
Diedrika modeled her reign not after a Mermaid queen, but a Sapien one: Cynisca. Likewise, her queenship was not about the glory of one, but of the glory of all. “Kicking, screaming, dying, let us drag them all into our fold,” the long dead sorceress queen once proclaimed. Such words defined perfectly this queen’s intent as well – although she would make an effort to keep the dying to a minimum.
“Is Evagoria still awake?” Diedrika asked her mother as she entered her favorite room of the palace.
Her two-year-old granddaughter asleep in her arms, Andromeda sat in a grand chair and rocked slightly. “I gave her the sleeping draught a mid-turn ago,” Andromeda answered in barely more than a whisper. “The witch certainly knows her stuff – it worked quite fast.”
As Diedrika rubbed Evagoria’s cheek, she watched Penelope gaze at the most unique of Mermaids. Cassiopeia came alongside them and looked proudly upon the sleeping babe as well. No one outside her own family, Penelope, Judiascar, and Hezekiah had yet to lay eyes on her precious daughter. But many soon would. Both Evagoria’s appearance and silence were critical this evening.
Queen Marseea and Penthesilea were such gifted sorceresses that they could create charming potions for others that needed no spell. Potions were nowhere near as potent as enchanted dust or spells cast on splendid objects and kept their magic for only a month or so, but this was better than nothing.
“Where are Father and Theodoric?” Diedrika looked around, but her lead general and husband were nowhere in sight. Penelope did so as well.
“They are already waiting for you at the First Temple. Perseos thought it wise to go early and make small talk with the many who will no doubt resist your ideas.”
“Yes, Mother, resistance is expected. But with our Gift from Poseidon in hand to remind them of our destiny, so is obedience.”
Many dozens of temples dotted Atagartis, but when someone said the ‘First Temple’, it could mean only one: the Temple of Poseidon. It was as large as the palace, had a grand meeting hall, and housed the most valuable space in the city – the Mermaid artifact room. Most of the other temples, however, had little to do with what Mermaids offered Poseidon, but centered on what the god of the sea offered them. For birthing newborns, Mermaids built special pools inside each and new mothers gave birth in these pools. Every newborn miracle would then stay underwater for at least half a day until his or her tiny lungs were able to handle the air above. No other kind with the courage or smarts to also birth their young underwater, this, Diedrika reminisced, was just one more shining example of how Mermaids did things in a manner much wiser than any others.
She knelt down and kissed where Evagoria’s diamond-shaped birthmark met her forehead. “It’s time.”
Andromeda and Penelope helped Diedrika change from her stola into ceremonial armor as Cassiopeia looked on. Aside from a helmet, shoulder shields, and flexible linked bronze bands to protect her tail, she was as if ready for war.
Considering the path she was about to propose, she just might need such protection!
Her two helpers then wrapped a fresh tail sack around the still sleeping princess’s lower half. Lastly, they strapped E
vagoria to a special sling Diedrika wore across her back. This sling allowed her to safely carry her beloved babe, yet still keep her arms free.
Diedrika and Penelope joined the waiting Gryphons and departed into the night. The moment for the current queen to shine as brightly as the fullest moon before her star-crossed subjects now at hand, the radiance of the former queens would have to stay behind.
Atop Judiascar, Diedrika entered the grand meeting hall. A bit ahead of them rode Penelope on Xavier. The nearly 200 Mermaids who awaited her instantly silenced and rose. With each row she passed, as if tiny footsteps unable to hide from her ears, whispers followed. Those gathered filled important positions throughout the city or headed the most respected families. In many ways, they were similar to the Sapien nobles of old – just not as stupid and much more useful.
A raised, circular stage stood in the exact center of the sweeping space they had gathered in. Many rows of raised Kauri wood benches surrounded this platform Judiascar now headed for. These benches allowed every sitting Mermaid to at once relax and bathe his or her tail in the cool waters that flowed at the base of each.
After hugs from her father and husband and a flurry of cheers, Judiascar pranced to the circular stage and Diedrika dismounted. With one eye on her and the other on the sleeping babe like no other she carried, Diedrika told them of her visit to Antediluvium and the edict given to the Centaur Chiron. Thundering applause came next.
Now that she had made her fellow Mermaids feel good about themselves, it was time to insult them.
“But I must ask myself,” she said in a louder, tenser voice, “what has led to such bold Centaurs who believe they can freely sail into and steal from our waters? Is it because of something they have done … or perhaps something we have? I can tell you the answer, but none of you will like it: Centaurs have grown bold because we have grown lazy.”
Just as murmurs threatened to wind their way around the meeting hall, she shut every mouth tight. “In a valiant effort to blunt the shame brought on by her own daughter, Queen Medea bestowed upon the first Mermaids the greatest of gifts: bronze-making. Two millennia later and its true power nearly forgotten; how is it that, of all things, artistic talent has come to define us?”
Sleek sculptures and pretty pictures not enough to rule the world, sweeping changes on the tip of her tongue just might be.
A loud hum and bright glow emanated from palms far apart, face down, and to her sides. With a quick flick of her wrists and the crackling sound of blades scraping stone, Diedrika bronze-made twin scimitars. All who watched had seen her do this many times before, but could not help but gasp once more. No Mermaid of any age could bronze-make with one hand, but this one could. Bronze-making a glorious gift; it was also – by sly design – a rather prejudiced one. For no other reason than because Queen Medea had desired it, females were much more talented at bronze-making than males.
“Great works are visible in every public building! Amazing fountains, monuments, and structures meet the eye wherever one cares to wander!” She let the soon to be dust bronze scimitars fall to the wooden stage with a muted clank and threw her hands into the air. “Is this it? Seriously? Is this the destiny of a species that rules both the seas and the skies?”
Diedrika glided to one side of the stage. She then turned to Theodoric who sat next to Perseos in the front row.
“Theodoric, my dear husband – those of every other nation refer to Mermaids as ‘heavenly creatures’, do they not?”
“Yes, Great Queen!” he shouted proudly.
“And is this because we have stars painted on our foreheads?”
“No, Great Queen!” Theodoric shouted proudly once more. Diedrika smiled and turned away. A number of others chuckled.
“Of course not!” Diedrika shrieked. “Centaurs are bold because – despite my father’s best efforts – our military is not. But how can it be when we are so busy carving yet another sculpture or fountain to go with hundreds of others just like it? We are not fulfilling our potential, my friends. Nowhere – even – close.”
Diedrika’s somber mood suddenly turned hopeful. “But it does not have to be this way! An absolute and not up for debate, Mermaids are superior to all others. Why should we not be smarter than all? Or swifter than all?” She raised her hands to the air once again. “Or stronger than all!”
Chatter and clapping that had grown louder suddenly silenced – Evagoria was now awake. Diedrika slowly turned her head. Evagoria rubbed her mother’s shoulder with one hand and, with wide, sparkling eyes no Mermaid had ever possessed, took in the hundreds of pairs that know gawked at her. Diedrika could not meet her daughter’s gaze, but as if Evagoria could read her mother’s thoughts, the precious babe stayed quiet.
“What I have in mind is simple, easy to remember, and will take years to fulfill. But I promise you this, my friends: These changes will push the West to be so much greater than the East that Centaurs and Arachna alike will feel nothing but outright shame with each gaze west. No matter how young or how old, all will feel a cold chill as they cower in the shadow of our glory.”
An elderly Mermaid rose and waited for Diedrika to acknowledge him. She met Duxautus’ stare and nodded.
“It sounds as if you ask for a renaissance in combat training and tactics,” he said carefully. “I agree with much of what you say, but just how exactly will we do this?”
“A renaissance, yes!” Diedrika said excitedly. “That is exactly what I propose!” She glided to Judiascar and ran her fingers in his mane. He leaned into her as she did so. “Centaurs and Arachna take part in war games and have for as long as any of us have been alive. Why should we not do the same by sea, air, and land? Mermaids who fly best paired with the swiftest Gryphons and waves of many more Orcas than we have now and their riders to patrol the seas. The best archers and horse-led chariots to train on the grassy plains joined by those skilled at hand-to-hand combat riding atop the fiercest Gryphons in a newly formed cavalry. Advances in arms and armor and other innovations invented by our best and brightest!”
Diedrika’s palms aglow once more, she turned slightly so that Evagoria now faced the most important and influential among them. Her voice turned quiet, yet her words were a proclamation led by blaring trumpets.
“Have the stars ever aligned in such a way? Every Mermaid, every Gryphon ever born was molded by gods mindful of not just any days, but these days we now live in. We have every gift we could ever ask of Poseidon. Just how many more signs do we need before we realize our intertwined destiny? A destiny I will not dare speak aloud, but of what every single one of you know implicitly.” Diedrika paused as she looked over the spellbound souls gathered before her. “But one thing holds us back, my friends, but one thing can stop us … ourselves.”
“We have one major disadvantage,” Duxautus called out once the echoes of Diedrika’s words left the chamber, but not their minds. He peeked down at his tail and then looked up again. “Well – two, I suppose.”
“Ah, that,” Diedrika snickered. “I once defeated a Centaur in a duel without them. Why can I not teach others to do the same?”
A bold few might suggest she had cheated that day long ago, but this queen refused to be a willing prisoner inside the realm of rules.
The future Empress of Terra Australis did not follow rules. SHE MADE THEM!
Diedrika smiled and winked at Duxautus and then took her time as she met some of the many dumbfounded stares of others. “So … what say you?”
A long silence hung over the meeting hall with the subtleness of a raging storm. Annoyed by this, Diedrika spoke again.
“Do we work to eradicate these last few decades of self-absorbed slothfulness? Or do we continue to let the Horsemen of the East steal from us in plain sight, and who knows what else next?”
Another unsettling silence engulfing them – the time has come for answers, Mermaids!
A mighty roar ending in a piercing shriek that would shatter glass if any were close by caused every Mer
maid to cover his or her ears and lean back as if hit with a great gust of wind. Every Mermaid aside from Diedrika, of course.
“Every Gryphon whose heart now beats,” Judiascar declared in a voice nearly as loud as his roar, “every Gryphon whose heart has yet to beat, but someday will – we are with you, Queen Diedrika!”
Perseos leapt up. Theodoric did so right afterward.
“As your lead general and devoted father to his queen, I am with you!”
“As your husband who would gladly give his life for both queen and kind,” Theodoric pledged next, “until I can speak no more, I will work tirelessly to persuade every Mermaid to share your vision!”
The three closest to her having spoken, none other dared do so. Diedrika turned slightly and now looked upon a group of generals.
“Your time, my time, our time – it is now! All in Terra Australis know Mermaids are this world’s superior species.” Diedrika stroked Judiascar’s mane. “Only the East is afraid to admit it. A force with no equal, Mermaids the archers, Gryphons the cavalry, Orcas our warships – what say you?”
No response – she looked directly at Duxautus.
“WHAT SAY YOU?” the most powerful creature in Terra Australis demanded a third time.
After a brief pause and appearing unfazed (at least on the outside) by this shout, the elderly Mermaid began to clap slowly. Others then doing so, this steady rhythm made obvious their submission to her will. All rose and the raucous cheering for Diedrika’s bold vision began.
“For the glory of us all, we will do as you wish!” Duxautus shouted.
“In short order, our greatest warriors will be revered as much as our best artisans!” one of the generals proclaimed.
Good … good – SHE HAD THEM!
Atop Judiascar, she mingled amongst the influential Mermaids that had made the wisest of choices. They had no other choice, really, but the appearance of free will was better than the threat of force. Every hand reached out to touch Evagoria. Their Gift from Poseidon giggled as they did so. Her birthmark turned darker amidst such fanfare and she grasped as many fingers as her tiny light blue hands allowed. So excited by it all, she even wiggled her still silver tail for the very first time!
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 12