“That’s Ahuram!” Adamarcus yelled out. It was easy to tell him and his mischievous brother, Ahriman, apart because of Ahuram’s nearly black mane. “I didn’t know he was that fast!”
A collective roar exploded out of every mouth as the other Gryphon bumped into Yishuo – purposely from what Adamarcus could see.
“HEY, WHAT WAS THAT?” Fu Xi yelled angrily as she stumbled a bit and fell to sixth.
Perhaps angry as well, with a sudden burst, Yishuo bolted passed an Arachna, the other Centaur, and this rude Gryphon to finish third.
And what a shock – it was none other than Ahriman who had knocked Yishuo off course!
The race over, Fu Xi ran down the stadium steps and trotted onto the field; Adamarcus and Taharqa followed. As they did so, a curious scene to his right stopped Adamarcus and he now made his way back toward an empty section of the southern stands as Taharqa caught up to Fu Xi without him.
Adamarcus did not normally sneak, but felt the sudden need to do so now. The arena’s clepsydra stopped chiming just as he lurched close enough to hear those he snuck up behind.
“I can’t believe you bet against your own son!” Nüwa seethed as she slapped her husband, Buzhou, on the shoulder. “You fool!” She then pushed him in the chest and threw her hands in the air. “How could you?” she begged in a voice so drenched in hurt it pained Adamarcus.
Buzhou was no slouch – warrior Centauresses did not marry wimps – but in a scuffle, Nüwa would certainly land a few punches before he could pin her down. And that was only if there was no sword nearby. If there was and Nüwa got a hold of it, it would then be a foot race.
Adamarcus watched as his parents, Seneferre, and Abarah rushed over to them. Once more, Ixchelene snuck up against her brother’s side without him seeing her and leaned into him. Her lady-in-waiting, Yishuo, nowhere in sight, this time she smartly kept quiet.
“How much did you lose, Buzhou?” Alexander demanded.
The browbeaten Huaxia hemmed and hawed, but finally answered. Upon hearing the amount, Nüwa’s face turned an unhealthy shade of green and she gagged repeatedly as if about to vomit.
“20,000 gold pieces,” Ixchelene gasped. “Even I know that’s a lot.”
“You said it, Ixchelene,” Adamarcus gasped in return. “And that’s only what he admits to – he might very well owe more.”
“And how much of this is from the treasury?” Seneferre asked. “A treasurer with a gambling problem is not a good thing, my friend.”
“I have taken nothing from the treasury,” Buzhou replied meekly. Four heads nodded as if they believed him, but one did not.
“You are lying, Buzhou! I can see it in your eyes!” Tears streamed down Nüwa’s face and she shoved him in the chest once more. “To gamble against your own son hurts me deeply, but this lie breaks my heart!”
Carolinica and Abarah wrapped their arms around the sobbing mother and took her aside. Alexander now stepped into the space Nüwa’s hurt left behind. He inspected Buzhou for a few moments and then let out a deep sigh.
“I don’t care how much you took and I will not even make you answer,” Alexander said softly. “Others can look into it and find out easily enough. I will pay back what you took from the treasury with my own funds and pay half your debt. The other half is yours.” Buzhou mumbled something Adamarcus could not hear, but he heard the next ones of his father loud and clear. “The day we return home to Lacanesia, you will resign your position as the Huaxia treasurer.”
Buzhou dropped to his knees and slammed his head into his hands.
Just as quickly, Adamarcus’ chin dropped into his chest. He could not believe what he had just seen and heard. A day Nüwa should always remember for her son’s greatest triumph no dream could match was suddenly a nightmare her husband’s greatest defeat would forever stain the memories of. Adamarcus felt pity for her, but felt a great deal more for his friend.
Fu Xi never lied, never talked poorly of others, and would probably risk his life to save a helpless lamb from a starving Gryphon. Melanippe’s neck notwithstanding – he was always respectful to anyone and everyone. In short, he was the kind of son nearly every father would kill to have, yet this father had the nerve to not only bet against Fu Xi, but to do so with so much gold.
AND NOT ALL OF THIS GOLD WAS HIS!
“Come on, Ixchelene, it’s time to go.”
Adamarcus led his sister to a group of kiosks on the edge of the field and bought her whatever she chose; he was so despondent, he didn’t even know what he paid for. Adamarcus looked across the field and saw his friends talking about something, anything less depressing than what he and Ixchelene had just heard. Even Fu Xi now laughed at something funny one of the others must have said or done.
How in the world was he going to tell Fu Xi what he had just seen? And more to the point, SHOULD he be the one to tell him?
Chapter Thirty-Two
A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW
Queen Diedrika owns a point of view none of us ever will. And if we could somehow see things as she does – even for just a day – none would come close to understanding how she sees the world, how she sees our places in it. I will always respect Diedrika, but can never trust her. That I DO trust Evagoria – not just halfheartedly, but unconditionally – my mind tells me I am just a lovestruck fool for doing so, but my heart refuses to allow otherwise.
– Adamarcus, Aeropid Centaur
– Mid-Summer, Year 4,254 KT[38]
As would a faithful, but distracted pet, Adamarcus tailed behind Ixchelene as she bounced from one kiosk to the other. His eyes wandered lazily, but his mind raced as he replayed what he had seen. The more he thought about it, the sicker he felt. And angry! As heartbroken as Adamarcus was now, Fu Xi would be many times more once he found out. But it would not be he, Adamarcus, who told Fu Xi.
At least, he hoped it wouldn’t be.
The first gongs to mark the sixteenth full turn of the day shook Adamarcus from his stupor; he looked up just in time to see the colorful caparisons that covered the back ends of Ixchelene and Yishuo strolling away from him. He had not even noticed Yishuo approach, hear them speak, or knew in what manner she had whisked his sister away.
A full turn of the clepsydra having passed as if mere moments, the ax throwing event would begin upon the ring of the next one. Adamarcus wandered over to an empty area close to where he had heard Buzhou admit his gambling losses. He then knelt down on the grass close to a Kauri wood and bronze bench. This bench sat less than a pike length away from the base of the southern stands. Across the field, contestants gathered in large, temporary tents as organizers hurriedly prepared the pitch for the last competition of the day. Adamarcus took in a deep breath. And just as he felt the tension from the day’s happenings begin to seep into the grass.…
“Trouble in paradise, my friend?”
Adamarcus swung around to meet those stunning emeralds. The owner of this very familiar, very willful voice did not wear her crown, but did dress in the deep purple stola and silver palla he often saw her wear. Adamarcus rose to his hooves and bowed.
“Hello, Queen Diedrika,” he said breathlessly. “Well, um … I suppose you could say that. You heard them ––”
“In regards to myself, no, I heard nothing. But words do not necessarily have to reach my ears for me to hear them. That each nation employs a trusted few disloyal to their kind to peek and poke about – I am sure Alexander has revealed to you how we spy on each other. All in good fun, of course.”
Adamarcus nodded.
Diedrika sat atop the Kauri wood and bronze bench, raised her flukes to the air, and spread them out wide. She then slowly lowered and neatly tucked the flukes and half her tail beneath the bench. Adamarcus gave a quick look about – that no one else accompanied the queen surprised him. He in turn knelt back down on the soft grasses of the pitch. Instead of peering straight out toward the field, Adamarcus now knelt so he could address Diedrika face-to-face.
“As I am sure you a
re well prepared for the roving archery competition, do you believe you can win?”
Adamarcus nodded once more and smiled wide at this question. “I do, Great Queen. The amazing quiver and silver arrows Evagoria gifted me for my birthday has given me a great deal of confidence.”
“It pleases me to hear you speak such words. As you have an advantage no other competitor appears to have, I too believe you will do well.”
“I do?” Adamarcus cocked his head at this.
“Oh yes!” Diedrika replied excitedly. “To fire a perfect shot into the mouth of the monster under such pressure, those targets you shoot your arrows at tomorrow will be mere child’s play.”
Adamarcus smiled through a sharp pain that now wound its way across his lower chest as he relived the moment the Yeturi slammed its claw into him. These healed wounds hurt a good deal more in the days after than they did at the time, but he would never wish them away even if he could. Even if that horrid day came when the gift to remember all became the curse to recall little to nothing of when he, Taharqa, and Persepolis saved Evagoria, these scars always would. His mind ready to drift as he recalled this, Diedrika leaned in close.
“The first time we exhibit a flavor of the same valor you showed me and so many others that day, something even the gods cannot explain is unleashed inside us. Confidence gained, how we deal with pressure, that we then carry ourselves differently; we grow in a way that is hard to pinpoint, but can easily be surmised. Quite simply, my good Centaur, we find ways to succeed where others see only failure.
“When we always seek to claim victory, when defeat no matter how small would be insufferable, even when beaten, this brings us one step closer to winning the next go around. To lose is nothing to be ashamed of in itself, Adamarcus, but to lose and not feel shame upon doing so is.”
Adamarcus did not understand everything Queen Diedrika said in regards to victory and defeat, winning and losing, but kept his eyes focused on her and nodded as if he did.
Diedrika rose. He did as well, bowed, kissed her hand, and then released it.
“You have your father’s manners,” she rubbed her fingers together on the hand he had held, “and his gentle touch.” Diedrika paused and inspected her other hand for a few moments. She then took their discussion in an unexpected direction. “I know many in the East would disagree, but I am not heartless. I simply become too disappointed for my own good when others fail to reach the potential I know dwells inside them.”
“My family and me,” Adamarcus protested as he shook his head, “we do not feel ––”
“I know, Adamarcus. I know.” Diedrika moved even closer to him. “And that is why I will tell you the following: In regards to this gambling fool, Buzhou, there is a good deal more than has so far met your eyes. A sickness neither silk nor spell can cure has overcome him. This sickness is not of the body or even the mind, but of the soul. Both my senses and my spies tell me that this episode is not the first. Nor will it be the last.
“Once your friend hears of this tomfoolery – which I gather will be sooner than later – you must remind him to keep a wary eye out for his father. Trouble and temptation lurk around every corner of Lacanesia – you know this. To lose his position as treasurer will be heartbreaking, this is true, but to lose his family will be fatal. Those consumed by such sickness do not see any of this until it is too late.”
Diedrika paused for a moment, lifted her eyes from him, and looked about. As she did this, it suddenly hit him: Buzhou spied for the Mermaids.
At least he did until today.
The queen had said it herself: Spies were disloyal, yet trusted. A helpless gambler who stole from his own was certainly disloyal, but could NEVER be trusted again.
“Despite such flaws that engulf a handful of the creatures who walk it,” Diedrika continued, “our Terra Australis remains a truly remarkable world.” She breathed in deep, her eyes now owned a slight glow, and she held out her hands as if hoping to catch the wind in them. “Upon a lush landscape crafted by the gods, throw in some stupid humans, drop a few rocks from the sky, and just look at us now! A world of heroes and heroines, villains and villainesses – some obvious, most not,” she nodded to where Buzhou was confronted, “– let no one tell you differently, Adamarcus: You are one of these heroes.”
As if reading his mind, Diedrika looked upon Adamarcus with a thoughtful gaze. With a wry smile, this Mermaid guessed what he was thinking! She then chuckled once his smirk confirmed it.
“As for me, the line between heroine and villainess is blurred, morphs back and forth between bold pastels and shady greys, and this comforts me. In the end, I suppose it all comes down to your point of view.” Diedrika’s dreamy grin turned into a warm smile. “Good luck tomorrow, Adamarcus. Although I will applaud loudest for my Evagoria, you will receive every other cheer I can spare.”
“For your kind words and warning, thank you, Queen Diedrika.”
Once out of sight, Adamarcus thought hard about what she had said. After taking in a trio of deep breaths, he then made his way to the decorative tents from where those ready to compete in the ax throwing competition would soon emerge.
*****
Adamarcus, Fu Xi, and Taharqa now stood with hundreds of others just outside the event boundary. Perhaps there to protect her son as well as watch, Nüwa stood close to him, but was not herself – she appeared just as dazed as she did confused. At least she no longer cried. Buzhou nowhere in sight, Adamarcus dearly hoped this had more to do with shame than gambling. Or spying. With Yishuo and Ixchelene on each of Carolinica’s arms, the three joined them as well. Adamarcus turned toward the southern stands and gazed up at the sea of light blue bodies mixed with winged gold ones. After a bit of searching, he found Evagoria and they waved to each other.
A dozen large targets at different angles sat scattered far and wide about the pitch. Circular in shape and made of wood, they sat almost upright. Participants would take turns throwing at each same-sized target, but from differing distances. And this was why Arachna had the best chance of winning. No other kind spent as much time practicing ax throwing from both short and long range.
Seventeen chimes followed by a flurry of trumpets and cheers from all around the stadium beckoned the contestants to exit their tents. One by one, each now did so. Unlike any other event, at least one of each kind would participate in this one. No heats to whittle down their numbers, each contestant would go one after the other.
“You have got to be kidding,” Fu Xi groaned as he put his hands atop his head. “She is in this event too?”
Melanippe had cleaned up rather well from her noontime beating and now waved to the crowd. She wore nearly all white aside for the violet cloak tossed over her shoulder. Caramel hair flowing in the wind, her hazel eyes met those of Adamarcus. He then watched as Melanippe focused on Fu Xi and her thin smirk grew into a wide smile.
“Gather close, everyone, gather close – it is time to begin!” Queen Marseea commanded as she withdrew a hand from her robes and pointed to each creature now before her. “Five Arachna, five Centaurs, let’s see now, three Mermaids and three Gryphons apiece … and two Sapiens. Work it out amongst yourselves in regards to your kind, but this is the order you will compete in.”
It was a splendid day. The early morning grey now an early evening blue, the sun floated downward, but still shined bright and crisp. Warm wisps of wind swirled about the stadium. Rains that had fallen for weeks colored the grasses of the pitch a deep green, but this would not last. The chariot races and roving field archery competitions still to come would muck up much of the field tomorrow.
The Arachna group to go first, Persepolis stood to the front of them. He chose a throwing ax from a huge rack filled with dozens of identical ones and raised it to the air. Those both standing and sitting – whether on the field or off – let out approving howls. Taking a moment to line up his shot at the first target eight to ten pike lengths away, he let the ax fly. It twirled through the air, wedged itself
neatly into the target, and another round of cheers gave their approval for a fine shot.
“Nine!” called a male Mermaid atop a Gryphon who inspected where the throw had hit the target. A pair of elderly male Sapiens stood next to a large bamboo board; with charcoal, one of them marked down Persepolis’ score. For each target, ten points was possible, but to get nine at this distance was impressive.
The other four Arachna went next, and then the rest of the competitors took their turns.
By far the loudest cheers were for Melanippe. The fourth target the closest one to them, Adamarcus watched intently as she awaited her turn. He then peeked to his right. Fu Xi also watched Melanippe, but did so with the wary eyes of a skittish mouse ready for the taking by a cunning owl upon its first run at dusk. Melanippe strolled over to another rack, grabbed an ax, and resumed her position at the end of the line. Then suddenly, she spun around to face them as if another had somehow told her they watched her.
As Melanippe stared down Fu Xi, she twirled the ax in her hand. Next, she stuck her tongue out to one side of her mouth, tilted her head to the right, and pointed at Fu Xi with her free hand ––
She mimicked him dying!
Her tongue back in her mouth and head upright, she now just nodded and smiled, but still twirled her ax.
Adamarcus looked at Fu Xi once more – he did not look so well all of a sudden.
Without warning, Adamarcus noticed Melanippe turn to her left; his eyes stealthily followed hers. Looking straight at her warrior daughter, Komnena pointed a single finger to the sky and swirled it in a tight circle. Melanippe let out a high-pitched giggle as if a little girl caught doing something playfully mischievous, lowered her ax, and whirled back around to face the targets.
After several moments of fear-induced silence, Fu Xi turned to Adamarcus and the others. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he mumbled hopelessly.
“Actually,” Adamarcus drawled, “I would guess just the opposite. If I know Melanippe even half as much as I think I do, she may never like you, but it’s a good bet she now respects you.”
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 35