*****
“I thought you said she was still alive?” Her eyes still closed, she heard these worried words clearly, but as if from far away.
“She is, you will see,” answered another familiar voice back. These words sounded a bit closer. “She only fainted.”
Coarse, but welcome hairs tickled Penelope’s face as a heavy head rested on her chest.
Poseidon’s tail – was he checking for a heartbeat?
She then raised a hand and plunged her aching fingers into the caring Gryphon’s mane. Thankful, half-open eyes watched Hezekiah lift his head and she met his silvery ones. Next, Penelope took in every face surrounding her.
“That was quite a spill you took!” Theodoric remarked. Diedrika and Evagoria next to him, they both smiled warmly. Cassiopeia and Andromeda moved to each side of the bed Penelope lay on, knelt down on the floor next to her, and took hold of a battered hand.
“And totally unnecessary!” Zarathustra seethed. “You should have never been in that death race to begin with. Just you wait, when Perseos is all healed up, I am going to give him an angered piece of my mind.” He looked all about and then at Hezekiah. “Of course, as long as Xavier is nowhere near.”
Chuckles all about, Hezekiah rubbed his beak against Penelope and then departed with Zarathustra. Theodoric and Diedrika soon exited as well.
Recalling the horrid scene the last time she was in an infirmary, Penelope was less than thrilled to be in one now. Still, this one appeared a good bit more cheery than the one at Atagartis. “Did we win?” she asked groggily.
“No, Penelope, we didn’t,” Cassiopeia answered. “Perseos was less than a lap away from the finish when he turned his chariot around and nobly beat down that horrible man.” She then began to laugh. “As they were dragging Aurikos’ body and that of his squealing daughter off the pitch, the last ‘white’ trotted across the finish line.”
“No one even cared that she had won!” Andromeda howled. “The goofy Sapien’s arms raised high into the sky; everyone just looked at her queerly, shook their heads, and walked away.”
“That is pretty funny,” Penelope giggled as she gazed outside. “I feel as if I have been asleep forever! Is it still the same day?”
“It is.” Evagoria sat atop Penelope’s bed and gently patted the silk sheet that covered her tail. “You have been out for about four full turns now.”
“Four turns, four turns,” Penelope repeated, “I missed the wrestling events?”
“We all did. I don’t even know who won.” As Evagoria rose, Cassiopeia and Andromeda shook their heads to confirm they had no idea either. “The roving archery event, however, starts soon and sadly, I must go. I am sorry you will have to miss it, but don’t worry,” Evagoria raised her chin high, “I will fill you in on all the victorious details upon my triumphant return.” She then made her way to the room’s entryway.
“Princess!” Penelope called out anxiously. “My gift – you will use it, yes?”
Evagoria spun around and smiled. “Come now, sweet Penelope, it saved my life. How could I not?”
Chapter Thirty-Five
WINNING TIME
Our gift of gold atop her golden Gryphon, may every step be bold, Zacharias, for I have no doubt that every shot from Evagoria’s bow will fly true. Penelope and Perseos having failed to win their event and now in the infirmary; it is up to you – our future king, her future protector – to ensure this unfortunate twosome does not turn into an inglorious trifecta. As your talons tear through the grasses with each turn and the wind cuts a path to victory through your mane, keep in mind that failure IS an option. Just not a very ‘lively’ one.
– Diedrika, Mermaid Queen
– Mid-Summer, Year 4,254 KT[41]
The roving archery competition much safer than the chariot races, no one died during this event unless they stuck their face onto the target as another took her shot. Still, that did not mean those more clumsy than careful could not be injured.
Atop Judiascar, Diedrika inspected the participants for the last event of this year’s Summer Games. The clouds had moved in for the first time since the games began and a light drizzle began to fall. Evagoria and Zacharias mingled with Adamarcus and three other Centaurs. Five Sapiens and their steeds gathered a few pike lengths away; curiously, one who Diedrika surely thought would compete in this event was nowhere in sight.
“Where is Melanippe?” Diedrika asked stiffly.
“She is sitting this one out,” Marseea replied as she turned around. She then nodded in the direction of a single Aeropid surrounded by at least a dozen Centauresses. Despite the rain, his admirers took turns trying to woo him. Such lavished attention most males would crave no matter the kind, this Centaur appeared uncomfortable by it all.
“Just as he did in the last games,” Marseea continued, “Orion is going to win. Now two years older, he will be just as sharp, if not sharper. Even Melanippe realizes this. Besides, she gets a great deal more joy out of hand-to-hand combat than with ranged weapons.”
“Ah yes, I did see a good bit of the beating she inflicted on the Huaxia,” Diedrika gave Marseea a snarky smirk, “but I don’t remember her winning.”
“And when real weapons are involved instead of wooden ones,” Marseea snapped back, “none will remember. If memory serves me right, no one knows this better than you.”
Diedrika chuckled. “And how could they?”
With a gentle tug on Judiascar’s mane, he lazily started in Orion’s direction. Although Diedrika used a saddle to ride him, she had no need for reins. She his queen, he her king and protector, aside from her own husband, she knew no one better. Even on their sloppiest days, their minds worked as if one.
Just as it should be!
As the rulers of the West approached Orion, the fawning Centauresses scattered like nesting doves catching wind of a cunning eagle about to swoop in on them. Now all alone, the Centaur held her extended hand as he bowed, but had not the manners to kiss the ring.
“H-Hello, G-Great Queen,” Orion stuttered as he nervously ran his fingers through now dripping wet, but always dreamy dark brown locks most Mermaids would kill for.
Diedrika took a long look at him. Few had the will not to. Although obviously a male, this one was ‘prettier’ than most females – Centaur or Mermaid. His skin and horse hide as white as freshly fallen snow; same as Adamarcus, he owned neither the height nor thickness one needed to become part of the Aeropid phalanx and therefore focused on archery. Looking about as if seeking someone, but unsuccessful, Diedrika again pointed her eyes at his heavenly grey ones.
“I do not see your father, Orion. Penelope tucked away in the infirmary; I think it is at least somewhat safe for him to come out of hiding to watch you.” Instead of just appearing nervous, Orion now looked downright terrified.
And rightly so, as it was HIS father who had killed Penelope’s brother.
Orion took in a flurry of deep breaths. “As she has been for quite a while,” he began slowly, “Mother is very sick. She has not the strength to travel from Lacanesia so my father stayed behind to tend to her.”
His eyes turned red and puffy as tears swelled in them. Diedrika had never believed the rumors that Orion’s eyes could change colors, but certainly did now as she watched them turn nearly as blue as Evagoria’s. Her goal to simply rattle the Centaur, not make him cry, Diedrika suddenly felt quite proud of herself. Not even the drizzle now turning into a near downpour could wash away this glee.
“In regards to your mother, I am sure a resolution will soon show itself in one way or another,” Diedrika said coldly. Just as it appeared Orion’s jaw was about to drop out of his mouth, she changed the subject. “As her horses dragged Aurikos’ daughter around the arena, was it you who shot the arrows that freed the wretch from her reins?”
“Yes,” he gulped as he wiped away needless tears awash in rain.
“On orders from?”
“M-My Chiron,” he gulped even harder this time.
She laughed aloud, but Orion just continued to look at her blankly.
“Those were good shots, Orion,” Diedrika continued slyly. “Your skill considerable, your prowess well known – but I do have to be honest: As only two shots were needed to free Laigria from her reins, it probably should not have taken three. But keep practicing, don’t dare give up – I am sure you will do better next time.”
With these baiting words, Diedrika turned Judiascar toward Evagoria and they sauntered away. Trampling through the muck the field was now turning into, Evagoria and Zacharias met them halfway.
“Oh, Mother, please tell me you did not taunt or threaten him,” Evagoria begged.
The rain made her pleading eyes an even more beautiful blue than they normally were. She wore a helmet and light armor around her chest and shoulders. Her tone arms and midriff bare, she was finally starting to show the same turtle shell stomach Diedrika had long been famous for. Much to her approval, Zacharias had clothed himself in nothing more than a backend wrap.
Victory within their grasp and legend riding atop his back, who had time for modesty?
Diedrika offered Evagoria the most innocent face she could conjure and smiled kindly.
“Actually, we had a very satisfying conversation. I simply expressed my sorrow for his sick mother and congratulated him for shooting free the Sapien wench as her horses dragged her around the arena.”
“If only,” Evagoria sneered, “that was all you said.”
Stern stares came first. Giggles and mutual respect for the other by way of endearing gazes came right after. Having seen this playfulness a good many times before, Judiascar and Zacharias laughed along with them.
Because THAT is what eternal allies do!
*****
Although many Mermaids and Gryphons had retreated into their seats high above the field, some, including Diedrika and Judiascar, settled where the pitch met the southern stands. Theodoric and Hezekiah soon joined them. It was on this side of the stadium where Evagoria and Zacharias and every other competitor would finish.
Aside for a few small differences, the rules for the roving archery event were much the same as they were for ax throwing. Instead of twelve targets, the participants would shoot at ten, but would do so twice – taking twenty shots in total. The target distances throughout the course still varied, but not nearly as much. Arachna Majora in full armor, not Mermaids, judged the shots from this event. Each of these judges held two flags. A red one indicated a perfect hit of ten points when raised and a black one was for an almost perfect hit good for nine points. Any other score was called out to the crusty Sapiens that kept track of each participant’s tally.
The temporary platform and columns used for chariot racing had a part to play in this event as well. By breaking up the field into two halves, those competing would start with five targets at the northern half of the stadium, complete five in the southern half, and then do this again a second time. One very important rule: If the archer fell – defined as a single knee or elbow touching the ground – then his or her turn ended immediately, no matter how many shots had been taken.
“The event about to start, our future regents now ready to show the world the skill and cunning the West demands,” Diedrika stroked Judiascar’s mane, “it’s winning time!”
As she watched from afar, the eleven competitors lined up on the opposite side of the field. Luckily, the downpour they had endured for the last half turn or so turned to little more than a drizzle again. Still, the field was quite the mess. Although the columns and platforms obstructed her view somewhat, Diedrika could still see four of the five northern targets. As for the one tucked behind the eastern column of tan granite, the gasps, growls, and groans of the crowd behind her would be as good as eyes.
Sapiens and their rides up first – these three hags and two crusted old men could not hit a bullseye if it hit them first! More groans than cheers for this fantastic five, at least the masses got in a good laugh when an Arachna judge had to use his shield to protect himself from a wayward arrow – TWICE!
No wonder Melanippe chose not to be lumped in with this motley mess! And now that Diedrika thought about such aimed incompetence, it all made perfect sense:
With pointless lives that spanned hundreds of years, who had the time to practice archery when you could instead wallow in the self-pity brought on by the daily realization that your race was hurtling toward its end?
“And here comes today’s winner,” bragged another behind Diedrika as the crowd turned louder in anticipation of the second Centaur to compete. As if the gods agreed, the rain stopped and a sliver of sunlight snuck through the clouds.
“Take a look, Judiascar,” Diedrika mocked as she slid off him before turning to face Marseea, “it’s the village ‘clairvoyant’!”
Theodoric chuckling at this, Diedrika gave the smug Sapien a cross look and brought her palms together. They glowed bright, but before they bronze-made anything, she pulled them away from each other.
“Or perhaps ‘clairvoyant’ is too kind a word?”
“Or too harsh,” Marseea bantered back. “Let’s just watch and see, shall we?”
Diedrika swung her head away from Marseea and back toward the field so fast, it probably would have broken the neck of a lesser creature. She then leaned into Judiascar. “Yes, Witch … let’s,” she seethed under her breath. Diedrika was now more confident than ever that her Evagoria would win.
For such a ‘pretty’ creature, Orion galloped with a goofy gait. Or with the field in such disarray, perhaps he was just being careful. His bow was simple, but did have one glaring difference – he had stained it a dark yellow.
With every shot of an arrow, an Arachna judge lifted a red flag to the sky to mark a perfect shot. Having tallied ten bullseyes in his first turn around the course, Orion began the second. A groan rang out as he slipped a bit, but he kept his footing. Rattled by this or simply tiring – Gryphons did not suffer such things, of course – two black flags ruined his perfect score to this point. Another near miss and stumble on the last target, he finished to great cheers and 197 points. As he trotted off the field, a gaggle of Centauresses chased after him.
“Still feel so sure, Marseea?”
She chuckled. “I am not rooting for him, Diedrika. In truth, I would love to see Evagoria win, but was just stating the facts as I saw them. To see things as they are, to remove emotion from decisions – I am a Sapien after all.”
“Ah yes, and to be cold and calculating has served your kind so well, hasn’t it?”
Marseea looked down. Diedrika did not make it a habit to shove this ruinous reminder in the Witch Queen’s face, but sometimes she just could not help herself. Still, Marseea seemed to take it all in stride. With a single hand, she rubbed the splendid crimson gem that hung from its thick gold necklace and again met Diedrika’s gaze.
“To be calculating, I can do nothing about, but I am working on the coldness,” Marseea quipped back.
Time to walk back her insult, Diedrika smiled. “Since first meeting nearly three decades ago, I would say you have come quite far in that regard.”
The sparkle in Marseea’s eyes returned. “Well, if I can fool even you, I must be doing something right.”
Adamarcus stepped up to begin his turn and the crowd began to roar once more. With the blare of the starting horn, he tore off and began. Just as she had promised him, Diedrika cheered every bullseye. Like Orion, he too stumbled on the path to the final shot on the southern end – both times in fact.
With a total score of 184 points – good enough for second place, soon to be third – Adamarcus rushed into the arms of his joyous parents. Other Centaurs congratulated him as well and he beamed as they did so. Clutched in his hands the elegant quiver Evagoria had gi
fted him, he now pointed out to the pitch. The next moment, Taharqa took hold of this quiver and rushed onto the field to collect the silver arrows still stuck in their targets.
As Diedrika again turned to Adamarcus – his hands on his hips, he appeared quite winded – Alexander looked in her direction. She nodded and that handsome, rugged head nodded back. Warm, tingling feelings bubbling up inside her, for her own good, she swiftly turned away and wrapped her right arm in Theodoric’s left.
For what seemed to take forever, the other three Centaurs took their turns. Two finished, but with middling scores and the third, an Olmec female, fell before reaching the second lap. Ten participants done, the one who would win remained.
The ground shook. The stadium shook. Even Diedrika shook. The single ray of sunshine that had shone down on the other competitors starting with Orion suddenly became many as Zacharias – with their Gift from Poseidon atop him – stepped up to the starting line. Evagoria’s stare at the first target fierce, Zacharias appeared just as locked in. The roars of the crowd now near deafening, Diedrika turned to Marseea and winked. Next, she leaned into Judiascar.
“Here we go, my friend – winning time!”
With a blare of the horn Diedrika could barely hear, Zacharias exploded forward. The first five targets a blur of galloping gold and raised red, they made their way for the southern half of the field. Two more targets down, two more red flags raised, Zacharias peeled straight toward them before tilting east for the last three targets of this first lap.
One continuous, unending cheer, three more perfect shots ––
Did this Gryphon stumble on the sloppy path to that tenth target as so many others had done? OF COURSE NOT!
Both of Diedrika’s hands now wrapped around Theodoric’s arm, she pressed her nails into him more and more with each raised red flag. Back to the northern side of the arena….
BULLSEYE!
BULLSEYE!
BULLSEYE!
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 38