– Penelope, Mermaid Historian
– Mid-Summer, Year 4,254 KT[40]
It was a warm day, but not so warm that Penelope’s hands should be sweating like this. The tighter she gripped the whip and reins, the more slick her palms became. She let go of both, drew her palms together, and bronze-made a simple cube in the hope that bronze-making something, anything, would help dry her hands. Penelope then dropped this cube over the right side of her chariot. The grasses it landed in would know what to do next.
“That’s not going to help,” Perseos said dryly.
Penelope nodded – her hands were still just as wet and clammy as before.
“To be nervous is not such a bad thing,” he continued. “It will keep you sharp, keep your head on the swivel you will sorely need as we race around those tight turns.” Perseos pointed in the direction of the eastern gate and took in a deep breath. “Just stick to the plan as best you can. Don’t you worry about the ‘whites’, Penelope, just be wise to the ‘reds’.”
“Oh, that certainly is rich, General,” she said breathlessly. Penelope peeked at Aurikos; with a crooked grin twice as wide as before, he still stared at her. “If I was, as you say, ‘wise to the reds’, I’d have more sense than I do now and would be sitting comfortably inside the arena, not shaking inside my chariot.” She shuddered. “That reputation, what I have read of him, now with his conniving daughter at his side, I am not ashamed to say they terrify me.” Penelope picked up her whip, retook the reins, and turned back to Perseos.
“As they should,” he replied cheerfully. “Aurikos and whoever rides with him has won hundreds of chariot races and probably cheated in one way or another in every single one. A starving chicken has more meat on its bones, but he’s stronger and even more devious than he looks. He has not ridden in the games for many years and I do not know why he is so keen to do so now, but you and I, we are not so bad ourselves. We are ready, our horses are ready, trust me, Penelope, we will do well. You are riding with me because you beat out a good many others – or do you not remember?”
Penelope rolled her eyes and threw Perseos a playful smirk. “I think Marseea put me under a spell that day!” She again looked at Aurikos – that withered loon still gawked at her! “Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind if she put me under a spell on this day as well.”
Even from hundreds of pike lengths away, Penelope could hear the chants and cheers coming from the stadium grow louder with each passing moment. She looked to her left. Twenty-four horses lined up in a neat row nervously pawed at the grass and the colored plumes atop each head bounced up and down in a rhythmic, but guarded motion. Even the six Gryphons who held large shields to hold the horses and their chariots in line appeared anxious. Penelope’s gaze wandered in the direction of the Pillars of Fire and her thoughts drifted to the southern sea just beyond. Eyes now to the front but pointing down, the eight blue caparisons covering hers and Perseos’ horses rippled in the wind as if the waves of this sea.
“Laigria and I would wish you luck, ‘blues’,” Aurikos snarled, “but all the luck in the world won’t help you win!” Those beady eyes then focused directly on Perseos. “That you are father to the Fish Queen,” he spat at the ground, “makes every victory over you that much sweeter!”
His wretched wench of a daughter wedged between them threw her head back and laughed heinously.
There was a day when such vile words would rile up Perseos – Penelope had seen plenty of them – but those days were long gone. Oftentimes he said just as much with but a twist of his face as he did with words and this was one of those times. Perseos rolled his eyes and nodded his head slowly. Next, he bronze-made a sword and pointed it at Aurikos.
“I would cut out your tongue, fiend, if you had but a little more time left to live in which to use it. The gods punish those with such bad manners – Poseidon especially so. Enjoy the race, Aurikos,” Perseos threw the blade into the ground, “it’s going to be your last.”
This vile man who seeped an even viler confidence suddenly did not look so sure of himself. He looked away and again spat on the thin strip of grass that separated his chariot from that of his nasty daughter.
“Get ready, Penelope,” Perseos told her suddenly as he pushed his helmet onto his head. She fumbled with hers to do the same. “The signs are on their way!”
Marseea had told Penelope and the other charioteers to expect something ‘unexpected’ before the traditional silver silk scarf fell to the ground to start the race; her only clue was that ‘fire from the sky’ would lead the way. And true to her word, from high above, many dozens of arrows engulfed in flame now headed straight for them.
One after the other, each flaming arrow landed in the exact same spot a half dozen or so pike lengths away from the line of horses. But instead of extinguishing or even setting the grasses they landed in ablaze, they instead morphed into thin columns of flame that began to meld into each other. The moment the last arrow landed, this melding of fire began to take shape.
Twisting, turning, molding, rising, living – Queen Marseea now stood before them. Blue, white, red, and orange flames made up this burning silhouette, but the real Marseea was still inside the stadium. At least Penelope thought she was.
“The chariot race ready to begin – depart my Gryphon friends or be trampled into the grasses,” the Sapien queen not of flesh, but of fire commanded. These six Gryphons no dunces, they hurriedly flew off. “Listen well, charioteers! Penthesilea’s arrow now on its way, when the silver scarf this last arrow leaves behind falls to the ground,” the voice of the burning Marseea turned positively wicked, “I suggest you give your best effort not to fall to the ground with it.”
Sure enough, a single arrow that more resembled a column of water than it did anything else made an arc in the sky and now hurtled down toward them. It did not hit the ground with a thud or any noise at all. Queen Marseea engulfed in flame suddenly gone, a wispy silk scarf now floated gently in the air where her glowing silhouette had just stood.
Down … down … down it floated before finally nestling in the grass. The charioteers were now free to trample the scarf – and each other – into oblivion.
“May the Grim be with you, FOOLS!” Aurikos shouted as hooves tore into grass and every chariot exploded forward.
Penelope snapped her reins and shared a quick glance with Perseos as his chariot shot to the front. Keeping with their strategy, she hung back a bit as the ‘reds’ and one of the ‘whites’ charged in front of her. The other ‘white’ stuck behind Penelope, three chariots directly in front of her twelve horses abreast, Perseos in the lead, the cheers turning near deafening … the most dangerous part of the race drew near.
The eastern gate was just wide enough for a trio of chariots twelve horses wide to squeeze through. Its design planned by minds much more devious than Penelope’s, it dared you to take the chance. Just as the three chariots ahead of her were about to pass through, Aurikos turned his horses into Laigria’s and she too leaned her horses into those leading the white chariot.
“No! No! You cannot do this! NOOOOOO!”
Eight black horses, two red chariots and their riders, and four white horses slipped through. The rider of the white chariot did not. Its right wheel had caught the front of the eastern gate’s granite wall and snapped off. This then forced the disabled chariot into the unforgiving wall and the Sapien female smashed into it.
Seeing this, Penelope guided her horses to the left side of the gate’s entrance. The white chariot shredded and its Sapien rider’s helmet ripped off, she bounced off the inside gate wall and hurtled through the air straight at Penelope. Stunned by this, she looked down just long enough to see the bloodied face land on her right wheel before thrusting what was left of this poor Sapien downward. With a rough bump as the battered body passed under her, bloodthirsty applause celebrated the first crash of the day.
Six charioteers now five, Penelope guided her chariot to the right and began her first lap around th
e north side of the centerpiece. With a quick glance across the centerpiece to the other side, she eyed Perseos; he was already a good half lap ahead of her. With vicious whips crackling both the air and the rumps of their steeds, the ‘reds’ chased hard just behind him.
‘Blue’, ‘red’, ‘red’, ‘blue’, ‘white’ (living), ‘white’ (dead) – the order stayed the same for the first three laps. Although these chariots led by such fine horses moved swiftly, to Penelope, time seemed as if it barely moved. Every next hoof hit the ground a long pause after the last and the brisk wind in her face felt like stale air that had long been dead. It even smelled foul. Perseos was still ahead, barely, but it took only one on the team to win. The race now nearly half over, the real fun was about to begin.
Into the second turn of the fourth lap, Penelope watched Aurikos try to squeeze by Perseos as he took too wide of a turn around the marble column. Aurikos in the lead for but a moment, she saw through the centerpiece as Perseos swooped back to the inside of the track and smash into the red chariot.
“AH! YOU MERMAID SWINE!”
As Penelope herself rounded the turn, Laigria nearly slammed into the slower moving chariot of her father. She guided her horses around him and continued; he then hurriedly sped up as well. Penelope could have passed them both just then, but resisted. With Perseos close to a lap ahead, her job was to tail, not lead. Perhaps remembering what became of her shredded teammate and just hoping to finish the race, the white chariot in last place made little effort to pass any of them.
On the first straightaway of the fifth lap, the ‘reds’ slowed and Penelope suddenly found herself pinned between them. They could not catch Perseos, but they could – and did – catch her. At the same time, both red chariots smashed into hers from each side. All four of Penelope’s horses neighed in fear and her chariot shook.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“Just having a bit of fun!” Aurikos shouted back. His chariot ran to Penelope’s left, closest to the centerpiece.
“No worries, Mermaid!” Laigria yelled. “The ground doesn’t hurt that much more than the sea when you land face first on it!”
Penelope pulled back on the reins to slow her horses, but they ignored her. Looking around frantically, one whip smacked into her shoulder from the left side – Aurikos had done this. Then another hit her, but from the right side. Penelope hurriedly pulled down her helmet’s face shield.
“A few scars will just pretty you up even more!” the daughter crowed.
Penelope raised her own whip and struck at Aurikos – his lashings hurt a good deal more – but this only drove him to crack his own whip harder and faster.
Another smash jolting Penelope, the right wheel of her chariot and the left wheel of Laigria’s became tangled. Around the turn, they stayed like this.
Now on the southern straightaway, Aurikos turned his horses hard into Penelope once more. Feeling the reins about to slip out of her hands, she gripped them tight. Just as she did so, Laigria’s whip suddenly wrapped around Penelope’s wrists. With another hideous howl, the daughter pulled this whip toward her. Her bound wrists following, Penelope’s horses then turned into Laigria’s and the eight horses began to tilt away from the centerpiece. With a snapping sound, both interlocked wheels shattered and their chariots tumbled wildly in the direction of the southern stands.
Thrown from her chariot, Penelope landed face first onto the pitch now more dirt than grass. Everything hurting, the dirt where she lay stained in blood ––
Shockingly she still lived!
Penelope groaned in pain and rolled over onto her right side. She then tossed Laigria’s whip still tangled around her wrists aside and looked up. Not two, but six columns made up the centerpiece where her blurred eyes now stared in the direction of.
“HELP! NO! HELP! SAVE ME!” the shrill voice of Aurikos’ daughter shrieked. Penelope turned her sore neck toward these screams. Four horses without a chariot now dragged the bloodied woman around the arena. Sapiens rode in chariot races with the reins wrapped around them. Mermaids, very luckily, did not. After a few tense moments watching this, Penelope saw one strap of the reins give way, then the other. Whether they broke on their own, she somehow cut them, or however else ––
That despicable woman deserved no such luck!
Wobbly eyes inside her throbbing head almost back to normal, Penelope now looked again toward the centerpiece.
What in the world?
On the southern straightway, four black horses ran east. On this same straightaway, four gold ones ran not east as well, BUT WEST! Just as the chariots were about to pass each other, the roaring crowd let out a collective gasp. Virtuous vengeance colliding with spiteful scorn, the blue shape of Perseos leapt out of his chariot, slammed into the red-cloaked form of Aurikos, and together they tumbled out of the red chariot and onto the ground. After a brief struggle, Perseos used his tail to pin down Aurikos’ legs and now loomed over him.
All inside the stadium hushed as if turned to stone.
“HOW DARE YOU?” Perseos shouted as his first punch smashed into the wicked man’s face. “YOU WORM-RIDDLED FILTH!”
Perseos landed another punch, but winced upon doing so. He then grabbed a clump of dirt and shoved it into Aurikos’ bloody mouth. His hands dripping in blood, he cried out in pain as he bronze-made a crude sword, and pointed its tip at that worthless neck.
Although Penelope was at least five pike lengths away from them and in an arena filled with thousands, she easily heard the sharp, scraping sound that had erupted from Perseos’ palms.
Others now made their way onto the pitch. Andromeda atop Simonacles came beside Penelope. She then dismounted, knelt down, removed Penelope’s mangled helmet, and whispered comforting words. Simonacles lay down next to them. A moment later, Viracocha arrived and he too knelt down, but at Penelope’s other side.
“Feel free to strike true, my friend,” Queen Marseea announced as she stepped toward the scuffle. “Truth be told, you would be doing us all a favor.”
Perseos held the sword against Aurikos’ throat and looked up at Diedrika. She sat atop King Judiascar. As expected, her face showed no emotion.
“Since Aurikos did attempt to murder our sweet Penelope,” she said curtly, “it is your choice, Father, as to what becomes of him.”
Perseos sucked in a few deep breaths; he then looked straight at Penelope. A fire she had never seen before burned in those eyes. Although it greatly pained her to do so, she shook her head and Perseos’ eyes softened. After a few more tense moments, he tossed his sword aside and lifted himself up.
“This filth isn’t worth the brief moment of guilt my soul would suffer as I sliced his throat.”
Perseos pulled off his helmet. Just as he appeared ready to fall back to the ground from exhaustion, a pair of Mermaids came to his aid. One wrapped his hands in silk bandages as the other helped him into Xavier’s saddle. Perseos atop him, Xavier turned away from the chaos and took but a couple of steps.…
“MY SOUL WON’T SUFFER AT ALL AS I SLIT YOURS!” With a curved blade in hand, Aurikos leapt up and rushed the two generals.
Xavier spinning around so fast Perseos nearly fell off him – Aurikos’ face instantly turned from a furious red to a ghostly white. Those great wings spread out fully, Xavier unleashed a massive roar ending in a bloodcurdling screech that scraped and scratched about the arena until every soul inside it turned silent once more.
Aurikos stood as would a statue – aside for the dropped blade and gulping motions he now made with his lips like a fish out of water.
As would a hungry vulture, Marseea circled him. Her tone drenched in pure wickedness; even from the ground, Penelope could see the Heart of Terra Australis glow a deeper blood red with each spoken word.
“Your mind old and haggard, your body even more so – as would the comforting cradle of a babe, the cold, deathly hands of the Grim now swaddle you tight.”
Aurikos suddenly grabbed at his chest as if trying to rip
out his heart.
Marseea chuckled at this. She then lifted a single open hand. “Goodbye, Aurikos … Desdessandra awaits.”
The old man dropped to his knees, let out one last wheeze, and those guppy lips smashed into the ground.
“HE’S DEAD!” Diedrika laughed as she raised her hands high. “Just one more example to demonstrate the grand superiority of the West!” The silence broken by the only one who dared do so, first dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of laughs joined in.
Xavier such an esteemed killer, he did not even have to lift a talon to kill the stumbling wretch. He simply needed to roar.
“Father … Father …” a weak voice called. Laigria began to crawl toward them, but did not get far. Still many pike lengths away, she simply ran out of strength and with hurting gasps rolled onto her back.
“We will take the wench to Atagartis to stand trial,” Diedrika announced in a voice more pleased than angered.
As if she were a child just offered a lifetime of sticky sweets, Marseea nodded eagerly.
So happy to be rid of one of her own despite that so few of them remained – no wonder Sapiens would soon be gone!
“It has been quite awhile,” Diedrika continued, “since a Sapien enjoyed the gracious hospitality of our dungeons, and we happily look forward to doing so.” She flashed them all a beaming smile. “To the fullest extent our laws allow!”
More laughing, more happiness at the expense of these two Sapiens, Penelope’s eyes became heavy, her pain began to dull, and her mind drifted. Nestled in Andromeda’s arms and Viracocha now gently stroking her hair, Penelope welcomed in the dark.
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 37