by K. T. Tomb
In the morning, the wind came from the north. They rowed all day, and when night came again, they pulled the boat up on a small beach.
Chapter Seven
Something massive was moving to the northwest. At first Aineias thought it was a small island they had missed in the dusk, but then he saw it move. Up and down, the light refracted off the small waves that were created by whatever it was. He looked at Pyrrhus and grinned. Pyrrhus shook his head disparagingly. They watched it for a while and wondered what the exact nature of it was. Some of the men thought it was a whale; the more superstitious ones said they had found the tips of the temples of Atlantis. Those who spoke about Atlantis had never sailed farther than Sicily, much less to have crossed through the Pillars.
“Or maybe it’s Aineias’ monster,” remarked Daizus.
They all looked at him, then turned their eyes back on Aineias who was shuffling his feet.
“Master! Tell us, is it the Kraken?” one of the slaves asked him.
“Did you know the beast was real when you told us that story? Or was it just to scare us?” another demanded of him.
By now all the men were gathered around him and looking at him anxiously.
“Well?” they demanded.
The skipper finally looked up.
“It’s real, and we’re going to capture it.”
The men were stunned. They were silent, amazed and more than a little surprised. Most of them had shared Pyrrhus’ misgivings about finding Priteni, but this was taking it to another level of insanity.
“We’re going to capture it and then drag it back to the Tyrrhenian Sea, so it will prey on the Roman fleet. There is no way our Greek navies can fight those Roman ships. They are too many, but we can level the odds here.”
They remained silent. Some men shook their heads, others touched their charms.
“Whoever wants to leave, you can remain here and we’ll pick you up on the way back, if we live. Otherwise there is every chance you can find a ship to take you back to Syracuse.”
The silence continued. Nobody spoke, not in protest, not in an attempt to dissuade the skipper, nor in agreement. They just stood there. Suddenly, their silence was broken by a crash out at sea. They could see eyes in the object ahead of them now, peeking out just above the water. The beast had slammed down a tentacle as though it was demanding that they come and get him. And that is what they did.
They put to sea, every single one of them; not one remained on the beach. The Thracians took up the oars and the sailors began preparing the nets and harpoons. They had wondered about their cargo ever since Syracuse, but it now dawned on them that their skipper had planned this for a while.
They rowed as fast as they could and closed in on the thing with great speed. Then, it was gone. They had thought they were heading for the spot where they had seen it, but it was not there. Nervously they looked round, trying to see where the beast had gone. Pyrrhus looked nervously across the water, his otherwise steady hands were now trembling around the rudder. His beloved ship could be gone in seconds if they could not find the monster and it took them by surprise. He was not even sure he would survive if the boat went down. He was an excellent swimmer but, according to the stories, the beast ate men as well as ships.Suddenly a rush of water threw their boat forward. The monster that had disappeared so quickly had risen again to come up behind them. A gigantic tentacle rose above the water, towering above them, then crashed down in the water beside them. The boat rose on the wave and fell again just as harshly. Here in the waves created by this monster, she was like the small boats that young boys play with in ponds.
Another tentacle rose and fell, and then another, and twice more they were thrown from one side to the other. The oars were useless and the Thracians wisely held them raised, keeping them out of the water to prevent their own bodies being thrown over by the tremendous force on the blades. Even these hardened warriors looked terrified. This was a foe mightier than the Romans or their Thracian, Dacian or Illyrian neighbors.
Aineias stood frozen on the deck. His nerve had suddenly left him. He had thought they could use the great nets to take the beast, but he now realized there was no way he could sail around it. He didn’t think they could control the beast with harpoons in the waves it caused. He knew he was lost; so was the ship and the crew with it. His sea legs held him standing on the deck, but his knees felt weak. His arms were frozen as he looked at the beast that was now rising from the water as high as it could. The large brown eyes in the octopus’ slippery head seemed trained on him as its massive tentacles were raised again. They crashed down once more, sending the ship flying once again, her keel leaving the water.
As she crashed down on the next wave, Aineias’ knees buckled and he fell onto the deck. He grabbed hold of the railing along the back of the ship and clung on. He looked into its eyes again and saw them tilted away and the head seemed to fall back. The beast was raising its tentacles up and showing its beak, it was just a huge gap there. A huge gap seemingly designed to swallow a ship whole. Aineias closed his eyes. They would be crossing the Styx soon. He tugged at his purse and made sure the small bag of coins was firmly attached to his belt. He would soon have need for the coin to pay Charon for their passage into the afterlife.
Pyrrhus let go of the rudder and grabbed a harpoon. He looped a line around the end of the weapon and hurled it at the Kraken with the strength he could muster. There was no idea behind the action, it was just a reflex. He thought of nothing other than that he had to do something. He couldn’t stand there and do nothing, simply throwing himself into the afterlife without a fight. As soon as he hurled the weapon he ducked and he too checked his purse for Charon’s sake.
There was a screech and they all looked up. The beak had closed and was disappearing under the water again. The harpoon Pyrrhus had thrown, and the line attached to it, disappeared under the water as well. The line was taught and there was a drag on the boat.
“Row!” roared Pyrrhus and the Thracians dropped their blades and pulled.
A tentacle crashed into the water just behind their stern and the wave that resulted jolted them forward again. The line tightened, and again there was a screech, a roar of pain from the beast and the great fishy eyes seemed to grow blurred as the Kraken struggled with the harpoon. Two more sailors launched harpoons and their barbs were buried in the octopus. It screeched again and went under the water.
“Row!” roared Pyrrhus again.
He did not know what to do. The beast could drag them down if it wished.
“Row you men, Row!” he bellowed at them.
They obeyed and the blades chopped down again and again. Suddenly the tension on those lines slackened and they seemed to be again floating on a calm sea.
Aineias stood up and looked around.
“You were right...” he muttered to Pyrrhus. “It was an insane plan. Now it’s gone, we’ll stop looking for it and look for Priteni again.”
Pyrrhus looked at him angrily and was about to retort when the lines caught his eye. He looked at them, not quite sure what was wrong with them, but there was something wrong. Then it hit him. “It’s not gone,” he said.
Aineias looked around, panicked, but could not detect a thing.
“It’s gone...”
Pyrrhus pointed at the lines. “If the lines were severed or the harpoons ripped out, they would have floated up. It’s still there and the lines are still attached.”
Aineias looked at the lines; he was frozen to the spot. Pyrrhus was right, they should cut the lines loose and make for the shore to escape the menace. But before he could regain his senses and reach for his knife, there was a bubbling in the water ahead of them. The Kraken rose again and though neither the fishy eyes, nor the featureless face could betray emotion, it seemed angry. Two tentacles rose and fell down towards their bow.
“Back water!” Pyrrhus shouted, grabbing a hold of the rudder. He felt the panic too, but his instincts took over now. Where Aineias depended on his
reason to save them, Pyrrhus’ reflexes would save them this time. One tentacle missed them, the other slammed into their larboard oars and threw the rowers off their benches. The oars broke and left half the Thracians sprawled on the deck, helpless.
Its tentacles rose above them again, just waiting to smash their beautiful Phoenician boat into splinters. Someone went down to the hold to bring up the spare oars, but there were not enough of them to replace all that were damaged. Then Daizus ordered the men to move some of the starboard oars to the larboard side to balance them out. They moved quickly, as with every thrashing move of the beast they danced up and down and came close to capsizing. They began backing water again and tried to escape the beast, but the lines were still attached and what had been designed to capture the Kraken now held them locked in its grasp.
The tip of a tentacle smashed into the ship’s bow; deck planks splintered and the top strakes caved, but miraculously the bows were still in one piece. One of the sailors was hit in the throat with a large splinter and he dropped to the deck with blood bubbling to his mouth. Without giving it a second thought, one of the other sailors pushed him overboard, clearing the deck without ceremony. Another harpoon was thrown from the deck, this one without a line, and it hit the beast between the eyes. It screeched loudly, rose high in the air and dove backwards, keeping to surface as it sucked in the water and pushed it out past its tentacles. The jet that resulted sprayed the entire ship with salt water and they were blown backwards. Then there was tension on the lines and the ship jerked forward, pulled along swiftly by the mighty beast.
Chapter Eight
Aineias lay flat on the deck, helpless as his ship was pulled out to sea by the Kraken. He felt her boards shudder and heard the groaning of the strakes as she wrestled the waves of the ocean. They were being pulled north. The bows were empty as every jet of water from the octopus pushed the men away from their stations. He drew his knife and cut the line that was still straining the boat’s rear; the moment the line was severed some of the shuddering stopped. Only her bow was still attached to the beast. The bow where the deck was smashed and the men could not go for fear of being blown into the water.
“We need to cut those lines!” Pyrrhus shouted at him, as soon as he had realized the skipper had regained control of his limbs and his mind. Aineias nodded at him.
One brave Thracian had the same idea; he pulled the knife out of a dead sailor’s belt and began crawling toward the bow of the ship. His progress was slow as he hid behind the rowing benches every time a blast of water came from the sea and the blasts came relentlessly, pummeling him and everyone else on board. Finally, he reached the last one and hid behind it, holding on to the bench and the gunwale as another wave washed over the ships’ rails. When it had passed, he placed the knife between his teeth and crawled forward again, his fingers grabbing hold of the wet boards, his nails clawing at the caulking between the planks to find a grip there. His body slid over the soaked planks until he reached the spot where the deck planks had shattered. He tried to reach the lines, tried to cut them from behind those planks, but then the next wave came. The knife was blown from his hand and he struggled to keep a hold of the splintered planks. The water blasted him, battered him, pummeled him and it took all his strength to hold on.
He sank flat onto the planks, his fingers bleeding from the splintered wood of the shattered deck. There was no strength left in his body and he was barely conscious. Moments later the boat jerked forward again. This time his fingers could not hold on to the boards, nor could his body hold out against the violence of the water and he was blown away sending him crashing into the ship’s mast. His breath came heavily at first, and then he coughed and was still.
The sailors fighting for their lives had no time for the dead. The moment they could, they dragged his body to the side and threw him overboard. The gulls and the sharks would take care of him now.
Pyrrhus had watched him, marveling at his bravery, but he had seen the strong man fail and all hope seemed to leave him. Aineias crawled over and shouted at him through the roar of the waves and over the cries of the beast.
“We’ll have to ride it out! It can’t keep swimming!”
“Perhaps it can!” Pyrrhus shouted back.
Night fell and still they were being pulled northwards. The waves kept battering them, leaving the men silent, crouched down and holding on for dear life. Not one of them attempted to reach the bows again. Their courage had left them when they saw the Thracian thrown to his death. The crew gave in to Fate and prayed that Poseidon would come and calm his son, though they did not count on it. All night they were thrust back and forth between slumber and fear. The fear was too much to sleep, but the exhaustion too much to keep them awake. Throughout the dark they held on and dozed, woken every few moments by the shocks of the boat on the waves and the water blowing over them.
Then the monster grew quiet. It stopped swimming and the boat stopped jerking forward. Slowly the men looked around, straining to see over the water by moonlight. They all wondered what had made the Kraken stop swimming. Pyrrhus, bleary-eyed and weak, crawled over to the bows and drew his knife when suddenly the wind picked up again. The monster pulled and he was thrown to the deck, crawling back against the rails. The monster raised its tentacles, tired of being so painfully tethered to the ship and when it brought them down on the lines, there was a loud crack of splintering wood.
The planks and ribs where the lines had been fastened were torn clean away and the bow seemed lower still. Again the tentacles smashed around them, snapping what remained of the oars and sweeping away their mast, freeing itself completely. Then it was gone,its tentacles disappearing below the sea.
Chapter Nine
Pyrrhus stood up and scanned the water. The beast was gone and, though he mourned the damage to the boat, they were still alive and floating. They had survived the beast and were safe for the moment. He looked for Aineias and noticed he was anxiously looking at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering steadily in the southern sky.
Aineias looked over the boat in the light of the dawn and saw the broken mast and remnants of shattered oars. His men were hurt and tired, exhausted from the ordeal.
“Men,” he shouted, “We survived the Kraken, we will survive the coming storm as well!”
He tried to sound confident as he spoke to them, but his voice was cracked and he couldn’t roar the words as loudly as he wished to.
“Tie yourselves to the benches and gunwales!” he shouted. “And hold on!”
There was a murmur amongst the exhausted men, but they did as he ordered them to do.
Already the wind was beginning to pick up; it began raging around them and stirring up the waves. Pyrrhus tried to handle the boat round so she would take the waves on her bow, but with only the rudder it was too great a task for him. The waves built, rising higher and higher and soon they washed over the ship.
Pyrrhus knew she would break at any moment; he held the rudder with all his strength, even though he knew it was useless. He shouted warnings to the crew, but the wind drowned out his voice. When he saw that final wave rolling towards the ship, he crouched down and waited for the impact that would finally shatter her. Soon she crashed down into the water, her broken bows finally collapsing. The strakes that had weathered the beating from the Kraken could withstand no more.
With that single splintering crash the water rushed in and the men in the hold were swept off their feet. In an instant, the churning water was sucked back from her bow and the men were gone. Splinters flew everywhere as the deck planks broke, the caulking pushed out from between them. Suddenly all that was left of the vessel that had tried to capture the Kraken was a mass of splintered wood churning in the sea and men too exhausted to swim.
Chapter Ten
When Aineias opened his eyes, he felt for his purse. It was still there. He knew he would have to pay Charon now. He pulled a coin out and held it up feebly, his arm weak and his body broken, but no one took it from him
. His arm sank again and he lay back, closing his eyes. In the grips of his dream, he heard the call of seagulls and the gentle roll of waves. Slowly he opened his eyes again, there was no dark underworld around him, just soft sand and a clear sky.
It took tremendous effort but he managed to push himself up so he could look around the beach. He saw the broken pieces of his ship and a few shapes which he knew couldn’t be anything other than the dead bodies of his men. He tried to get to his feet, but there was no feeling in his left leg. It was broken. He couldn’t even feel the pain of it, being still too exhausted from the ordeal.
One of the bodies moved and staggered to his feet straight away, looking about in confusion. It was Pyrrhus. He raised his hand and Pyrrhus rushed to his side, kneeling beside him to examine his broken limb. He seemed to want to say something, but couldn’t. It took him a while to recover himself, but then he stood up and hit Aineias over the head.
“Didn’t I tell you it was a stupid plan?”
He closed his eyes again and sighed before looking around at the cliffs.
“Where are we?”
Aineias shrugged and said nothing. He didn’t know, he couldn’t think clearly either. His body was taking some time to wake up. Suddenly, he was hit by the pain of his leg and he screamed loudly.
Another person stirred on the beach and came to join them. It was the Thracian chief, Daizus, looking as worn and battered as they did. He said nothing when he saw Aineias’ leg, but started looking around the beach, returning with two planks and some rope that had washed up. He signaled to Pyrrhus to hold the man down then he unceremoniously grabbed Aineias’ left foot and pulled. Aineias screamed and then passed out. When he came to his leg had been set and splinted with the boards.