The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2)

by Ginegaw, J. A.

  Once again, Hezekiah backed away a handful of steps.

  “‘How that thing snores – the troll has got to be asleep,’ Felimix whispered finally. I then watched his left hand set down his bronze-made short sword and he continued up the ramp. I again tried to scream, but only sucked in a mouthful of blood for my troubles. Then I heard the sound of rattling chains. Felimix was trying to lock the cage.”

  Hezekiah raised his voice as he continued to backpedal.

  “‘I don’t know where you wandered off to Cruentus, but I cannot even begin to think of the trouble you would get into if I wasn’t your ––’”

  With a great leap, Hezekiah landed but a whisper away from Penelope’s terrified face. He then let out his best roar while holding in the screech that usually came right after.

  “A terrible smash of the cage door crashing into flesh and bone was what I heard next. And then I saw the impossible: Felimix ‘flying’ from the top of the ramp as if he was a helpless seal an Orca had just flung skyward; upon hitting the patterned tile floor with a crippling thud, the horrid beast sprang from the cage after him.

  “The dark was suddenly light and moonlight bathed the marketplace. Oh, why have the gods so cursed me that I must now watch this horrid scene in perfect detail?”

  His rear claws stomping, his talons slashing, his eyes moving in the most devilish of ways – Hezekiah acted out all of what he spoke next.

  “Spread out on the ground and his eyes facing the sky, Felimix let out the weakest of squeals. The next instant, a pounding foot landed cleanly across my poor friend’s throat. That fiend then picked him up by the hair as if he was nothing more than a sickly branch. Felimix’s mouth wide open to scream, the Yeturi shoved its claw straight in. This claw with razor sharp nails scraped, cut, and sliced every part of flesh each nail touched. His eyes rolling up into his skull, that monster just stared at him blankly. It twisted the claw in Felimix’s mouth so that its filthy palm now faced up. In disbelief, I then watched that horrid beast drag his lifeless body along the ground by just the top half of his head.”

  Hezekiah’s face a tangled mess of anger and hate just a moment ago turned soft. His voice became sadder, filled with hurt.

  “This sovereign of the savages! This ruler of those most wretched! It threw Felimix into its cage. The wicked ogre then growled deeply and took a few steps east, but suddenly stopped. I heard bronze-making. I heard muffled voices – more than one – but could not make out what they said. I wanted to look to where the Yeturi was, but I could not move. It then came back into view, got down on all fours, and exploded westward. As the demon creature rushed off, those wretched ravens with their gurgling croaks noisily cheered it on!”

  Hezekiah now lay on the floor. With each next word, his body became more limp and lifeless.

  “I tried to move again, but the pain, the pain … then all went dark once more.”

  Cruentus had not said all these things and certainly not in the same way ––

  But so what?

  It was a gripping story worth telling how Hezekiah had done, not how the now dead Mermaid mumbled it. This is what made him such a great storyteller. And as proof, not a single eye in the room was dry. Well, Penelope could not tell in regards to Judiascar as he now bowed his head, but she guessed that he too felt like he was about to drown in a sea of sorrow with the rest of them. Quite true, this was a sad group, but also a curious group. And for this gaggle of curious Mermaids and Gryphons, a few pressing questions needed answers.

  “Its cage somehow unlocked?” Theodoric asked incredulously as he wiped tears from his cheeks. “How could this happen? IT IS BUT A MINDLESS BEAST! At least it was when we captured it.”

  Hezekiah picked himself up and grunted. All eyes back on him, from his talons, he then dropped onto the throne room floor a number of thin pieces of bronze. “Found in the Yeturi’s cage, perhaps one of these was the ‘key’ to its escape.”

  “Each bent into a different shape,” Cassiopeia gasped. “Could that thing have made them into these clever shapes and then used one to force open the lock?”

  “Or someone?” Hezekiah suggested. “Cruentus said he heard words, and then bronze-making – the monster turned from east to west because of it. Perhaps these were not to scare it off, but to point the right way.”

  “I don’t remember,” Diedrika mused, “hearing of any who saw the monster while still in the marketplace after it escaped.”

  Penelope looked all about the room. Every head was up but one – just as she expected. Only Perseos looked to the floor and did so solemnly. She had no proof, and with the Yeturi and guards dead, had little chance of finding any. Still, Penelope’s suspicions were aroused and she tucked these away in her mind.

  “Do you, Father?” Diedrika asked sternly.

  All eyes now on him, Perseos peeked up. “No, I do not,” he answered softly.

  To see Diedrika challenge her father pleased Penelope, but she wished that her queen had gone even further.

  “I am not so sure a Yeturi,” Simonacles added slowly, “could learn to ‘take orders’. To force open the lock, I can at least grasp that it could do such a thing, but to understand and then do what another tells it? I just do not believe that this is possible.”

  “Possible or not, there is one question I cannot think of an answer to.” Theodoric looked as confused as Penelope had ever seen him. “How did it know where to find Evagoria?”

  “Seriously?” Diedrika blurted as she took in the goofy looks of the males. She then looked directly at her husband.

  “I’m with Theodoric,” Judiascar mumbled. “How did it know?” He and Hezekiah now shared Theodoric’s hopelessly dopy stare.

  Queen Diedrika slid off her throne and threw her hands into the air. Penelope and Cassiopeia shook their heads as if ashamed to be in the same room.

  “Well, aside from you three,” Diedrika lectured, “every creature no matter how dimwitted knows – since birth, I might add – that the most beloved princess of any kingdom always sleeps in the highest tower of the royal palace.”

  *****

  For nearly a week, Adamarcus, Taharqa, and Persepolis stayed at Atagartis while Evagoria recovered. This healing time at an end, they walked beside her grand carriage on the way to the city gates. Queen Diedrika, Evagoria, Theodoric, and Penelope rode in this white carriage led by four handsome horses.

  Once at the gates, the carriage stopped and all but Theodoric exited. After hugs and fond farewells, Evagoria returned to her father’s side, but Diedrika and Penelope did not. The queen wandered a bit and the two Centaurs and Arachna obediently followed. Finally, Diedrika turned to address them. Penelope moved into the shadows the early evening sun now drew upon the marble walkway and listened close. Although Diedrika’s face was as beautiful as always, the departing trio would not like everything those pretty lips were about to say.

  “Each of you heroes in the grandest sense, I commend you as such,” Diedrika began. “Any Mermaid to ever show ill will toward any of you without good reason will face my thirsty blade the moment I hear of it. Well,” she laughed aloud, “except, of course, if this Mermaid is me!” The other three laughed nervously along with her.

  “I do not say the following because I am hard-hearted,” Diedrika continued, “nor to be cruel. I simply give fair warning. The innocence of Evagoria that each of you know and love – you can kiss it goodbye.” If Diedrika had not yet captured the departing trio’s attention, she certainly did now. “Although young, each of you is certainly old enough to understand that events such as what Evagoria experienced with the Yeturi change us. They mold us; help us become who we are. This past week will mold each of you as well. Think hard, my friends – after all that has happened, is there anything you cannot do?”

  “No, Great Queen,” Taharqa answered quickly. Adamarcus and Persepolis nodded.

  “Confidence as sharp as a blade – I love it!” Her excited voice then turned slow and thoughtful. “On the outside, she may
not look much different when you see her next, but Evagoria will change a great deal on the inside. My daughter did not have the strength to fight off the Yeturi – she will now look to me for this strength. In the end, what you need to know is this: Evagoria will become more and more like me faster than you can imagine, but not all is lost.” She smiled warmly. “No matter what, she will always adore you three.” Diedrika looked straight at Persepolis. “Zacharias will not be overjoyed once he realizes this, but he will have to accept it.”

  Persepolis bowed low; Adamarcus and Taharqa then took turns kissing the queen’s hand. Diedrika and Penelope returned to the carriage, the princess waved farewell one last time, and the four horses trotted away.

  “Did you tell them all we spoke of, Mother?” Evagoria asked as they headed north for home.

  “I did,” Diedrika responded kindly. The mother’s right hand slipped into that of the daughter. “Just as you requested, they know you will always care for them, but are now on notice that sweeping changes are on the way.”

  The princess nodded and then turned to Penelope. Half of Evagoria’s face owned a sadness that bid farewell to something dear, yet the other half wore an eagerness that knew something greater – much greater – was within her grasp. The setting sun now worked to turn both her hair and sparkling eyes a pretty shade of orange.

  In less than a week, Evagoria had already changed in a number of ways. Before the Yeturi stole her, she was just a youngling who often mimicked her Queen Mother. Now? It was time to become the queen this Gift from Poseidon was born to be. And Evagoria knew it.

  The carriage now close to the palace, Penelope thought long and hard about what Diedrika had told Evagoria’s rescuers. Watch your step creatures of the East! And when you do dare take one, it would be best to tread lightly.

  The Centaurs and Arachna could barely handle one Diedrika – just how were they going to handle two?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A DAY TO BE THANKFUL

  To see Adamarcus come of age on his sixteenth birthday makes this humble uncle proud. Nearly eighteen years have passed since I pummeled Alexander in a ‘friendly’ game of Harpastum; the sight of him so enraged me then, I almost did not attend his and Carolinica’s wedding the next year. YET HERE WE ARE! As I look across the feasting table at so many happy faces, I am reminded that life is SO precious. Not only might any day be our last, but any day might be the last for one of these who make this Centaur’s life so worth living.

  – Viracocha, Centaur Historian

  – Early Spring, Year 4,254 KT[32]

  “Oh, Historian, do tell!” little Shepenupet pleaded in the squeakiest of voices. “Mother and Father only tell me bits and pieces – oh, do tell us how we came to be!” Shepenupet stood tall on those tiny hooves and raised her dainty chin high. “We know you must tell us if we ask!”

  Viracocha surveyed the room. This area just one of many open spaces in Alexander’s and Carolinica’s home, at least a dozen Centaur younglings now kneeled on or lay buried under the mounds of pillows and blankets that covered the Kauri wood floor. He knew most of these little nobles, but Shepenupet was easily his favorite. Always so polite, all knew she was Abarah’s because both owned the same dazzling smile. Even with a few baby teeth missing. This bold little filly again knelt on all four knees and, just as Viracocha had always seen Shepenupet do when Seneferre was near, leaned into her father.

  “Oh, do I?” Viracocha returned slyly.

  “YES! YES! YES!” the younglings shouted.

  “And how we got away from those mean Sapiens!” growled the smallest, a fellow Olmec peeking out from under a pile of pillows. “Tell us that too!”

  “Oh, I want to hear!” Ixchelene chimed. Her copper-colored eyes lit up the room as Yishuo, her lady-in-waiting, followed just behind.

  “Let me braid your hair as we do so, my lady[33],” the Huaxia said sweetly. They both knelt down and Yishuo began to do this.

  Although the ‘lady’ was three years younger than the lady-in-waiting, there were times – many times – when Ixchelene appeared more mature than Yishuo. They both already knew of what Viracocha would speak of, but it was still nice to have them near. Ixchelene had another lady-in-waiting, an Aeropid a year older than Yishuo, but this one tended to her during the day.

  “So be it!” Viracocha announced.

  A round of cheers rang out all around. As if they lay in wait, twice as many little Centaurs as there was just a moment before now stuffed themselves into the room. Their mushy little minds ready for molding, only once every youngling knelt down and became silent did Viracocha rise from his blanket.

  “Nephele the clueless and Ixion the weak, these were but the followers of two especially hurtful souls – the cruel sorceress Deianira and her hulking husband, Eurytion. If there is one great law every kind no matter how stupid knows and holds true, it is this: you do not enslave your own. Yet these four Sapiens did exactly that. Unknown to all until discovered by the wandering witch, Desdessandra, they had made feeble in both body and mind nearly two dozen Sapiens. After a great battle with her brother, the fire-starter Hephaestus, at her side, Desdessandra cursed these four slave owners and they became the first Centaurs.”

  A round of ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’ escaped the mouth of each little one.

  “By Desdessandra’s design, each of these four was of a different tribe and spoke in a tongue none of the other three could understand. For every one of us born thereafter – even if to parents of differing tribes – the newborn was to be either of the mother’s or the father’s tribe. Never a mixed race, a youngling would always be one or the other. Desdessandra believed that four distinct tribes each with our own culture and language would keep Centaurs in constant conflict with each other. But was the witch right?”

  “NO!” the younglings yelled back.

  “Outstanding!” Viracocha bellowed. “We may be four separate tribes, but as Centaurs WE – ARE – ONE!”

  The little ones leapt to their hooves and cheered. Viracocha beamed, glanced over at Seneferre, and the general shot him an approving smirk. Only once every one of them knelt or lay back down again did Viracocha continue.

  “A mystical oddity Sapiens would surely hunt down if they saw them in this new form, these first four Centaurs fled for the southern forests of the Guardian Mountains. As for what happened next ––”

  Trumpets suddenly blared from every corner of Lacanesia.

  “The election results are in!” someone announced.

  Viracocha looked up and turned to the doorway to his right. This doorway empty but a moment ago, Adamarcus and Taharqa now marched in place inside it. From behind them, Persepolis peeked over their shoulders as if a spying spiderling.

  “I am so sorry, little ones,” Viracocha said sadly, “but our story will have to wait for another day.”

  A collective groan broke the heart of every youngling who would soon forget this disappointment. Although most of them and their parents were invited here only for the election results and not for Adamarcus’ birthday party to come, all would share in the same feast and desserts.

  And nothing sent little Centaurs and Centauresses merrily on their way like charred meats and sticky sweets struck between overwhelmed teeth they would soon lose.

  Dozens of Centaurs and three Arachna now shuffled into the largest room of the house. This huge space with its vaulted ceilings was strictly for business. Aside for a number of torches and a Kauri wood table an Arachna could easily fit atop, the room was bare. The dining room – which Carolinica had roped off for Adamarcus’ birthday – was probably the second largest room in the home and could hold about twenty.

  “Come on now! What are the results, messenger?” Achaemenes demanded. “Spit them out!” The Arachna king stood in the walkway that separated the business space from a wide balcony overlooking Lacanesia.

  A Nubian called Esarhaddon stood at the edge this balcony. He was not just any messenger, but a trusted lieutenant general. Older
and more experienced than Seneferre, but like every other Centaur, he did not own the same presence. No battle forthcoming, Esarhaddon’s only task on this day was to relay the results yelled up to him from the wide bridge spanning a gentle stream that ran next to the home.

  A narrow victory in the days of old was a victory for none. A majority of votes brought peace; any other result might bring civil unrest and had done so many times before. This occurred when more than two Centaurs ran for Chiron and the votes were close enough to stir up suspicion. Fed up with this, the Alpha Centauri devised a runoff where the top two vote getters would then run against each other in a second election the next day. This not only stopped the bloodshed, but also led to quirky alliances between factions. Luckily, the only other to run this time was a clumsy, not so popular Huaxia.

  “Alright, alright, you grumpy Arachna crustier than your crown,” Esarhaddon growled as Viracocha heard shouts from below. “The count for Alexander is … 4,326!”

  Everyone cheered. As only around 7,000 Centaurs could even vote, this was a resounding victory. How Alexander had somehow convinced Queen Diedrika to accept three years of harvests in return for a couple of dozen fishing ships pure genius; in Viracocha’s mind, this more than anything figured in his easy re-election.

  “The two running Alpha Centauri re-elected as well,” Seneferre added, but then his voice turned soft, “Horus won the open third seat.…” His look upon Viracocha and Alexander was a perfect mix of pride and pain. “Soon to be blinded, he will not be able to see Taharqa and Shepenupet grow up.”

  “And that is his choice,” Viracocha reminded him in just as soft a tone. Seneferre sucked in a deep breath and nodded.

  “I was hoping we might get rid of Tlaloc and Xu Guangqui,” Alexander said with a shrug, “but we’ll worry about those fools later.” He raised his hands to the sky. “It’s time to feast! Bring in as much food and wine as it takes until my coffers are empty!”