“I need no others.” These words spoken with pure confidence, Adamarcus practically choked on such hubris. Penelope’s crooked smirk confirmed what they both already knew:
He was a terrible liar.
Adamarcus quickly inspected the bow. Its limbs of a darker brown than most he had seen other Mermaids use, he preferred a reflex recurve bow, but this simple recurve one was actually better at close range. Obvious to all from an early age that Adamarcus would not have the size and strength to be part of a phalanx unit, let alone lead one as his father had done, Viracocha encouraged him to focus on archery. Adamarcus considered himself a decent archer and practiced often, but he was no Orion.
His face firm, the rest of him shook wildly. Sheets of sweat poured from every part of Adamarcus’ body and rightfully so. He feared for the loss of not only the love of his life, but for his own life as well. If he struck down the Yeturi and saved Evagoria, the Mermaids would hail him as a hero.
Fail and the monster kills her in a fit of rage….
His father would then welcome his son home in fleshy, shredded scraps. All or nothing, kill or be killed. Despite these chilling thoughts, Adamarcus loaded both arrows into the compound bow. With the arrow points poking through a slit in the drain, he stood ready to save his Evagoria.
The Yeturi now rocked back and forth. It stomped forward to chase one group of warriors, stopped, and then acted in the same threatening manner toward another group. Once there was no one left to taunt, it again withdrew to the deepest part of the pool. With each next squeak, click, and squeal, the greedy savage clutched Evagoria ever closer. Mermaids and Gryphons alike uneasily watched the increasingly crazed ogre. Its howls and growls were even louder than the restless chatter of those determined to destroy it. Just as it appeared everyone was about to pass out from the heightened anticipation of the harrowing crisis, a single scream silenced all:
“MMIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNEE!”
Every Mermaid within earshot gasped. Those not atop a Gryphon appeared as if any slight breeze would knock them backward. Adamarcus shocked as well, he now tipped his gaze in Queen Diedrika’s direction. Ashen faced and miserable, she placed both shaking hands over her chest. After some moments of dead silence, piercing words dripping in absolute astonishment finally escaped her trembling lips….
“It speaks!”
This awed reaction appeared to empower the Yeturi. It straightened itself up. Next, it surveyed all around it as if a hunter trying to decide what to chase first. With a cavernous breath, the monster then tilted its head upward to face the coming dawn.
Adamarcus focused as never before on the hulking beast; only its massive head interfered with a perfect view of the blood red sky that now seeped from the heavens above. His arrows still pointed at his mark, as if he had just exited the sea, he dripped in sweat from his forehead to his knees.
“Come on, you fiend,” Adamarcus whispered angrily through clenched teeth. “Do it, do it again … come on.…”
Ready to announce its claim on who it and Adamarcus treasured most a second time, the monster opened its mouth wide.
“I dare your filth to say but one … more ––”
Adamarcus released the bowstring. The arrows had plenty of thrust behind them, but something even more powerful than the force that launched these missiles forward made them soar skyward so splendidly. Although the terms of their creation promised to keep her forever out of his reach, Adamarcus loved Evagoria. Unconditionally. No matter what. Since he first saw her in the spring at that fountain all by herself until he choked on his last breath. This was why both arrows embedded themselves deep inside the roof of the monster’s mouth. This was why, one after the other, a much harder thud followed a softer one.
“Mine.”
Now covering most of the drain opening, Evagoria’s limp body blocked his view. Adamarcus took in the deepest breath he could and wisps of her sweet smelling hair wafted through his nose. Although he could no longer see the Yeturi, he knew he felled it; piercing screams mixed with raucous cheers from above had told him so. Adamarcus now spun around to face Penelope.
“Come on, Historian! OUT! OUT! OUT!”
Desperate to escape the cramped pipe, Adamarcus gave Penelope a few forceful pushes for good measure. Once they emerged, he stood triumphantly over the pipe’s entrance. He admired his kill, but also feared for the ‘dropped’ princess.
Adamarcus rushed toward the decrepit pool. A woozy Evagoria now leaned on her right elbow next to the nearly dead Yeturi. As he approached, he could see the arrow shafts peek out from inside its nasty mouth. The heavy arrow points, forged and sharpened by Gryphon bronzesmiths, rested deep inside a brain Adamarcus knew had somehow been corrupted. As its last act, the fallen monster wrapped a single clawed digit around some of Evagoria’s yellow locks and, with a final gurgle, exhaled its ending breath.
Mermaids and Gryphons alike swooped in and shoved the dead Yeturi away from Evagoria. Out of the corner of his eye, Adamarcus noticed a handful of Gryphons led by Xavier escape with the dead monster’s body. He could only imagine in what sick and twisted way they would defile it, but after a flicker of thought in regards to Gryphon history, he had a pretty good idea.
Perseos held up his wobbly granddaughter as Adamarcus and Taharqa untied her bindings. They then lifted Evagoria up and carried the princess to her eager parents. Persepolis proudly followed just behind. Actions such as this one were what heroes had the privilege of doing and all others watched in silence as they did so. They set Evagoria down at her mother’s side and she now stared groggily at each of them. After a few moments to focus, tears began to stream down Evagoria’s flawless face. First Persepolis, then Taharqa, then Adamarcus, she gave each of her friends a long hug.
“For each of you to risk your lives,” she whimpered between sniffles, “to save mine.…”
Those watching did not know the three friends had stepped in on the Yeturi in the act of kidnapping Evagoria, but soon would. Grand stories such as this one were told quickly and forgotten slowly.
Amongst so many tears now bursting forth, Evagoria could not continue. If not for Diedrika tenderly holding the princess in her arms, she most likely would have collapsed to the ground. How Evagoria gripped her Queen Mother; to Adamarcus, she appeared as if an overwhelmed toddler frightened to let go. Zacharias leaned in and rubbed his mane against Evagoria’s elbow, but she barely seemed to notice.
Theodoric stepped in front of the heroic trio. He then placed a firm hand on each of the inner shoulders of Persepolis’ Centaur bookends.
“You have shown us all great courage,” Theodoric kindly told them, “that neither grateful eyes nor scribed plates will ever forget. Our Gift from Poseidon safe because she has so wisely befriended such brave heroes … thank you, my friends.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BLOODY PIECES TO A GRUESOME PUZZLE
The monster had escaped its cage and nearly killed our Gift from Poseidon. But just HOW did this happen? Only two others can lead us to the answer. Regrettably, the Yeturi smashed and gored them both with reckless abandon, but not all is lost. Dead Mermaids forever cease to tell their tales, but ALMOST dead ones can be helpful.
– Penelope, Mermaid Historian
– Mid-Fall, Year 4,253 KT[31]
Evagoria was safe – physically at least. The Yeturi dead, the time to discover just what had led to such madness was now at hand.
“He is wounded beyond repair, my queen.” The face of the Mermaid medic turned more grey than blue and his eyes were sad and swollen. “I doubt Cruentus will live out the night.”
“That is not my concern,” Diedrika said dryly. “Keep him alive long enough to tell Penelope and Hezekiah what he knows. And once he does so, leave him be.” The medic cocked his head and his mouth fell open. Queen Diedrika leaned in. “If he truly is as you say: ‘beyond repair’, then it really is not in our best interest to keep the Grim waiting now, is it?”
With these wise words, the medic nodded
and departed with his Arachna mentor in tow. Diedrika returned to her throne alongside King Judiascar. She then motioned for Penelope and Hezekiah to approach.
“Now almost noon, we have until nightfall at most,” Diedrika told them. “Cruentus is a good Mermaid from a fine family, but he is going to die no matter what. Press him hard to tell you all he remembers from last night, early this morning, whenever it was the beast escaped.” Diedrika took in a deep breath and pointed her eyes downward. “Do not fail me.”
Penelope atop Hezekiah, the historians made their way to another part of the palace. They had visited the murder scene earlier. Others having already removed the other guard (he was dead on arrival) and Cruentus – there was nothing left to see but an empty, filthy cage. Well, almost nothing. The duo did collect a few pieces of evidence they had yet to reveal to anyone, but soon would.
The moment they entered the infirmary, the gore that met their eyes shocked Penelope. Cruentus was a bludgeoned mess. A thick, scarlet cloth covered him from his midsection up. Medics used this color to help mask the blood one might see when wounded, but Penelope could see every drop. Arachna silk covered everything else aside for one eye – intact, shockingly – and what was left of his mouth. She made her way around the dying Mermaid and stopped next to his shoulder. One table held his body while another held only his head; there was a gap in between. She bent down to look at the back of Cruentus’ neck, but dearly wished she had not.
“Penelope!” Hezekiah ran over. “It’s okay, my dear,” he said kindly. “It’s okay.”
She vomited. Images of her slain brother, Eumelus, cruelly swam about her mind. Tears rushed out and mixed in with strands of reek hanging from her trembling mouth. With every choking breath sucked in, Penelope vomited more. A medic brought over a silvery potion of some kind and pleaded with her to drink it. She finally did so, but it was many moments before she could speak again.
“Poseidon’s tail – how is he still alive?” Penelope begged of the chief Mermaid medic. Her tail tucked under her, she still knelt. “His neck is half gone!”
The medic pointed in the direction of two Arachna busily at work. “Every mid-turn, we change his silk dressings. You saw him just after we had removed these dressings to change them once more. This has slowed his end, but it will come, nonetheless. Although the day marches on and it grows warmer outside, the infirmary turns colder.” The medic shivered as if Hades now ran his frosted finger from the edge of one shoulder to the other. Penelope could not feel this cold, but began to shiver as well. “Whatever you need from Cruentus, Historian, I suggest you get it fast.”
Their task was not only to scribe Cruentus’ account of what had happened, but also to rewrite what they learned in an orderly way. When announcing their findings, they did not want to sound like babbling idiots. For many turns of the clepsydra, Hezekiah questioned the poor Mermaid. Penelope considered this more torture than not, but they had their orders.
Blood shot from Cruentus’ mouth with each whispered word. His eye would suddenly burn with fury, but then, just as quickly, turn vacant as if doused with water. He sobbed, grunted, or made twisted faces more often than he spoke. This unlucky soul could not move any part of his body aside for the muscles on his face, but the horror he revealed made every muscle in Penelope’s body twitch. Cruentus would pass out repeatedly, but each time the medics awakened him. There would be no healing in the infirmary on this day, only suffering extended as long as needed.
The night now upon them, they finished their grisly task as best they could and exited the infirmary. Penelope again in the saddle atop Hezekiah’s back, a single shriek suddenly tore through the hall: Hades had taken what was his.
The echoes of this scream still bouncing about her ears, Penelope suddenly felt as if a pike carved from ice sliced open her chest, tore out her soul, and then thrust it back into her. This hurt was so great that she nearly fell off Hezekiah. Only the warmth of more tears kept Penelope from turning into ice herself. She buried her head in Hezekiah’s mane and dreamed of carefree days long past she had shared with her brother.
*****
The two regents sat on their thrones once again. Theodoric at Diedrika’s left side, Simonacles sat to Judiascar’s right. Penelope and Hezekiah before them, the moon shone bright through an opening in the tiled roof high above. Cassiopeia tucked in the dark silhouette cast upon the floor by the northern wall, aside for her, the pale moonlight lit up the rest of them like a torch.
Diedrika loved the dark. It was not so much that the queen despised the day – just the early part of it. Penelope the opposite, she loved to watch the sunrise each morning. Evagoria in the greedy grip of the monster upon the dawn ––
Until today, how long had it been since Diedrika saw a sunrise herself? And with this scar forever burned across her mind, would she ever allow her eyes to see one again?
“We have done as asked, my queen,” Penelope began. She held up a handful of bamboo strips filled with writings. “Cruentus is dead, but he did not pass on before telling us all we believe is needed to fully piece together how, how,” her voice cracked and began to fade, “the Yeturi escaped and … and.…”
“The following,” Hezekiah broke in strongly as Penelope’s words turned to whispers, “is an account as if viewed by Cruentus’ own eyes. As if his mind is still with us and he himself can say through me what happened in the fading dark of the early morning we will never forget.”
Aside from Queen Marseea, no one could tell a story like Hezekiah. Zarathustra was number three in Penelope’s mind. There were these three and then there was everyone else. Penelope took in the looks of each face as they gazed upon Hezekiah. All eagerly awaited his every word – even Cassiopeia. He sat up his straightest, cleared his throat, and began.
“As guards did every night, Felimix and I took our positions at the front of the Yeturi’s cage just before midnight. The moon was full, but the sky cloudy. No moonlight since our watch began, the marketplace was darker than normal. I lit the torches by the southern fountain and this was all the light we had.
“Aside for a few deep growls and its normal stirrings, the monster lay asleep in its enclosure. The marketplace clepsydra rang its third full turn of the early morning, and the time for a well-deserved break was at hand. Felimix checked the lock on the cage, nodded to me it was secure, and we made our way back to the fountain with our packs. We then ate and sipped drinks while lounging in the refreshing waters.
“‘Did you hear that?’ Felimix asked suddenly.
“‘Did I hear what?’ I asked back.
“‘I heard scraping or clanking of metal – almost as if another bronze-made something close by.’”
As Hezekiah continued, he just as much acted out the scenes as told them.
“I just gave his alarmed look a queer look back. ‘You are hearing things! Really, how can you hear anything with these swirling waters making all the noise they do? And those squawking ravens! Do they never shut up?’
“As if I were their overlord, for the most part they suddenly did. Felimix laughed at this. I peeked toward the cage, but the light from the torches made it hard to see anything not close to us. Now full, I stuffed leftover food in my pack, shook my head at Felimix, and then glided away. My pack set aside, I resumed my post to the right of the ramp that leads to the cage door.”
Cassiopeia left her perch along the northern wall and glided toward Penelope. As would spellbound students at summer studies, with their tails tucked beneath them, the two knelt close to Hezekiah. Penelope leaned in and the elder Mermaid wrapped an arm around her shuddering shoulders. Cassiopeia had many flaws, but Penelope adored her nonetheless. Hezekiah suddenly unfurled his great wings over them and shadow bathed Penelope and Cassiopeia in its blackened coldness.
“After just a few moments, to my shock, globules of dribble oozed onto me from above. I slowly looked up. Terror in the form of countless yellow daggers looked down. My mouth open, but no scream with the courage to set itse
lf free from it – the fiend sprung into murderous action.
“It shoved a furry claw over my face; trying to spin away, the beast then clamped onto the back of my head with its massive jaws. Those horrid vises ripped through every scrap of flesh from the top of my back to the base of my skull. I went limp, my life flickered before my twitching eyes, and all went dark.”
Hezekiah pulled in his wings. The moonlight returned Cassiopeia’s grey skin to its pleasant light blue hue, but the cold the shadow had wrought stayed with them.
“‘Cruentus?’ I heard this whisper in the back of my mind. My eyes still closed, but my mind not – I tried to move, but couldn’t. ‘Cruentus, where are you?’ I heard this whisper once more, harsher this time, and could finally open my eyes. Well, only one as the wicked fiend had gouged out the other with its claw.
“The monster had hid the mess that was once me under its raised cage. Despite blood all around and the searing pain I felt, I could see Felimix clearly. He was now at the front of the ramp. The Yeturi was nowhere in sight, but I heard a noise! In the cage above me, it shifted a bit and snored as if asleep.
“‘Cruen ––’
“I prayed dearly that Felimix had paused because he saw me. I tried to cry out to him, but nothing came out.”
Hezekiah took a few steps back from his enthralled audience.
“‘Is this some kind of joke, Cruentus?’ Felimix seethed. ‘Why is the monster’s cage unlocked?’ His voice then became but a whispered gasp. ‘And why is the cage door partly open?’
“In horror, I watched as Felimix slowly made his way onto and up the ramp. Halfway up, only his tail was still in view, but I saw a glow and heard him bronze-make a weapon. Still as a tree, silent as death, he stayed there for many moments.”
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 29