The Laughing Gods

by Wilbur Arron

  “Not unless they would enjoy life as a eunuch,” Chremon added.

  For the first and only time during our trip, I heard Kaptis and the others burst out laughing.

  The next dilemma arose. Two of the men had captured one of the raiders. They brought him in, bound with rope. The post commander had arrived, and he was for skinning the thief alive on the spot. They removed the dark clothes to reveal a boy, around the age of thirteen or so. I do not make war on children, although I am sure the lad would have gladly cut our throats. They still wanted to kill him, and that started me thinking. I turned to the base commander and spoke as a superior.

  “Get me a piece of wood and bring it out to where the bodies of the other two are and then bring the boy. I have a use for him.”

  The others looked at me strangely, but I ignored them and walked toward where they had laid out the bodies. Shortly, two men dragged the boy there, dressed only in his loincloth. I could see some of the guards had already beaten him, but he did not make a sound of complaint. The boy had courage. Someone else arrived with a large piece of wood.

  “Do you understand me, boy?” I said.

  The boy said and did nothing to give away that he understood me. I expected that.

  “Turn his head, so he faces the wood,” I requested.

  Two of the guards roughly turned his head. I motioned everyone to stand back and then pulled energy from the realms.

  “Pyra,” I called out, and a ball of flame engulfed the wood, turning it to ash in a moment. I turned to face the boy and let some of the power leak into my voice.

  “That is you, boy, if you do not answer me,” I growled. “Now do you understand ME!”

  The boy looked up and nodded his head. I could see the fear in his eyes.

  “That is only a sample of my power,” I said. “I am going to release you. You will go back to your people and tell them to leave this and other caravans alone. If they do not, then I or others like me will return, and we will burn your homes and turn your people and livestock into ashes. If you doubt we can do this, ask the others here. Do you understand me?”

  I was glaring at the boy who only managed a weak nod.

  “Untie him,” I ordered.

  The guards swiftly complied. As they were removing the bonds, Gyras walked up to him.

  “Listen to him, boy,” he said, in a calm voice. “He has sunk a trierse and destroyed an army all by himself. Even the gods listen to him. You and your people better listen to him. Now for your sake, and the sake of your tribe, never let anyone see you here again.”

  With that, they finished untying him and kicked the boy to push him away. The child took the hint and ran off into the darkness as though the harpies were after him. I turned to both Empodocles and Kaptis.

  “I think the rest of our trip to Portanus will be without incident,” I said.

  As I walked away, I heard many invocations uttered to the gods.

  There was no possibility of more sleep for the rest of the night, so we had an early start. For the rest of our trip, you could not even hear a rabbit in the fields.

  The Polis of Portanus is on the River Nestos that runs from the hills to the north across the great plain, before turning west near the southern hills and emptying into the Western Sea. It is the longest river in Lantia. The great north-south road runs along the river to Portanus from the lands to the north. Until Portanus, the ground is fertile and watered for at least ten milio on either side of the river. Much of the food that feeds Lantia grows on this strip. Two other rivers run through the plain to the west of Lantis, where food also grows and people live. Much of the rest of the plain is too dry for agriculture and relies on herding or is barren. We crossed the great stone bridge into the polis.

  Portanus is the capital of the Eparchia of Potamina and is one of the major cities of Lantia, larger in size than Arginnia. Lantis is the political and religious center for Lantia, but Portanus is the cultural center. The best schools of art, sculpture, philosophy, science, law, literature, and rhetoric in this world are found here. Students travel from all over our world to study here. All mage students come here for two years during their fourth and fifth years at the Academy to learn philosophy, ethics, science, law, and rhetoric. I must admit, my time as a student was not great. While I did well with ethics, science, literature, law, and philosophy, I was a barely passable student at rhetoric.

  Once over the stone bridge, the gate guards and tax assessors thoroughly searched our caravan and contents. I presented my credentials to the commander of the guards, who notified the archon of my presence. As a noble and diplomat, my luggage was exempt from being searched. The commander instructed us to proceed under escort to the archon’s palace at the center of the polis. The polis was a marvel of architecture and construction. The temples were beautiful. The public buildings were magnificent in size and grandeur. Some of the most elegant buildings known to us mortals were here. Many of the people were dressed as fine as my party and me. I was dressed in my best clothing and Melina was wearing the white dress I bought her in Sycion. Nomiki, Chremon, and Gyras were dressed in their military uniforms.

  Once at the polis center, they directed us into the inner walled compound and an outer building much like our ethnarch has in Arginnia. It was well staffed. Our luggage and our needs were well taken care of. During our evening meal, a servant of Archon Amphidamos arrived and informed us that the archon had only recently learned of our arrival in Lantia, and he would meet us tomorrow. Tomorrow night we would be guests of honor at a formal banquet. I told him our caravan was leaving in the morning, and he explained that arrangements were made for us to stay here for a few days before proceeding to Lantis with a full escort. Our former traveling companions had been told this and would be leaving the next day without us. In the meantime, the staff and facilities in the palace were ours to command. Melina and I were shown to a room that was fit for an ethnarch, with a huge bed, desk, private library, places for our clothes, and a huge private bath. The others were taken to rooms that were much smaller, but just as elegant. The men shared a bath, but Zila had her own smaller bath. Melina and I used the large private bath to enjoy each other’s company—something we had not done since we left Korpolis.

  After a good night’s rest, one of the servants showed Melina and me around the polis. We went into all the public buildings and some of the schools. We even attended a lecture in philosophy, which neither of us really enjoyed, but we maintained smiles as a diplomat is required to do. The tour took us elsewhere to look at the water system and sewer, all of which were greater and more magnificent than any I have ever seen. I knew of this from my first visit here years ago, but time had not dulled the appearance of this place in the slightest. Melina was just as overwhelmed by the grandeur. No doubt the archon was trying to impress us with his power and wealth. It worked; Korpolis was a stable compared to this place.

  People seem to know of both of us. Officials and instructors questioned me several times about the destruction of the Zilar army. Melina was similarly accosted regarding her marriage to a demigod, as some people called me. This did not please me at all. I merely told all who would listen that I had only done what was necessary. People actually bowed to me in the street. That made me feel even more uncomfortable.

  We returned in the late afternoon to find Chremon and Nomiki there. They had been to the Fields of Ares on which young men practiced their fighting skills. Privately, both men told me they thought an Arginnian army could run their infantry off the field. They were impressed, however, with the heavy armored cavalry, who they said were some of the best riders they had ever seen. Zila and Gyras spent their time in old bookstores looking for rare books on magik. They found two such books and bought one. After our return, it was another bath and then a change into our finest, most elegant clothes for the banquet.

  I would say fifty people were there. I knew none of them. The six of us shared three large couches on the daïs in the position of honor. The wine flowed fr
eely, but I had told the others to keep a clear head, so we all took our wine well-watered. To start the festivities, acrobats came in doing all sorts of gymnastic feats, such as leaping through fire hoops, balancing on narrow beams, forming human pillars that reached the ceiling. Dancing girls, beautiful and almost naked, entertained us next. No doubt the women appreciated this much less than the men. Jugglers followed the dancers, and then an old man performed feats of magic, such as making a variety of things disappear and conjuring balls and cloth from thin air. It was all great fun, but our host was not there. I was told he typically comes as soon as the food was served. Next, it was the turn of the lyric poets who read from classic works of the past. One was even blind. This went on for some time before a gong sounded, and everyone disappeared in an instant.

  A servant dressed in pure white came forward. He faced the crowd.

  “All hail Amphidamos: Archon of Potamina, Oligarch of Portanus, Victor of the Battle of Tellingard, defeater of the barbarian invaders, beloved of the Gods and Son of the Devine Oribasius.”

  We all rose and in walked an elderly male, perhaps in his sixties. I had never met the man while I was here before, but archons usually did not talk to mage acolytes. As required, we all bowed to him as lord of the eparchia. He came into the room a few podia, stopped, and nodded to the servant.

  The servant raised his voice, “Philocrates, the Arch-Mage of Lantia.”

  In walked a man in his fifties, dressed in the red and black robes of an arch-mage. I may not have known the archon, but I certainly knew Philocrates.

  CHAPTER TEN: MEETINGS

  To say I was surprised at the appearance of Philocrates is an understatement. Philocrates was my senior instructor at the Academy. While I knew he served on the Mage Council, I was unaware he was promoted to the position of Arch-Mage of Lantia. That is the second most powerful position in our Brotherhood only below the Megas Mage. I was surprised because, like me, he never went in for politics. What surprised me even more was that he traveled for four days from Lantis to be here. He was a man who enjoyed his comforts, and one of those comforts was not traveling. Besides, he could have just waited until I arrived in Lantis and summoned me. Something was not right here.

  I bowed as I should to both men and took my place on the daïs. The servants served us a magnificent feast of roast lamb with garlic, several types of fish, chicken, and other fowl. I did not eat much, and I drank my wine well-watered as did the arch-mage. Again, I had to recall my tale of the Zilar army and how I sunk the trierse. Throughout the feast, Philocrates said little, other than the usual polite greeting. I got applause from the guests and even accolades from the archon. Even Philocrates complimented me on my adventures. The music and merriment went on well into the evening before the banquet slowly broke up. I was still sober, but Nomiki, Chremon, and Gyras were undoubtedly in a merry state. Melina was also feeling the effects of the wine. Zila remained as cold sober as I was. The archon was drunk, but still able to walk. Toward midnight, most of the guests fell asleep at their couches. I helped Melina to our room and went to sleep. Philocrates made no attempt to talk to me before, during, or even after the banquet.

  The next morning, I let Melina and the others sleep it off. I put on my mage robe and went into the dining hall. The servants were cleaning the place up. I ate some leftover bread, olives, cheese, and drank plain water. Outside in the garden, I saw the arch-mage sitting alone. I decided now was as good a time as any to find out what is going on. I walked out and bowed.

  “May I join you?” I asked.

  Philocrates just nodded and motioned to the bench across from him. “I congratulate you on your appointment as arch-mage,” I said and bowed slightly.

  “Thank you, Alexio,” he said. “I congratulate you on your rapid promotion to the rank of Master Mage and your appointment as Ambassador of Argina.”

  “Thank you, but you did not come here to tell me that,” I said dropping all pretenses. “Nor are you part of any diplomatic reception.”

  Philocrates chuckled; “Still direct and to the point; not skills that will serve you well as an ambassador.”

  “Time enough for that later,” I said. “You went out of your way, and far away from your comfort, to be here; I would like to know why.”

  Philocrates folded his arms together as if to speak officially. “I am here to meet with the archon to discuss our yearly transfer of students to the polis as part of their studies at the Academy.”

  “Which in the past Peranus and I did for former Arch-Mage Androcles in my last year at the Academy. This is not a task for an arch-mage.”

  Philocrates laughed again. The problem with his laugh was I never knew if he meant it. That man was a master at hiding his feelings. “You were the best student in my class,” he told me. “Very little escaped you. No, I am here to escort you to Lantis along with a guard of twenty men.”

  “Am I under arrest?” I asked.

  “No, no,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Even after you told us you left the Brotherhood, no one ever seriously considered arresting you. We learned what actually happened at your hearing before Ethnarch Sysgros from Master Mage Chronos, Arch-Mage Herion’s assistant. We even read a copy of your report to your ethnarch and the others. It was very convincing, but still left many of us with doubts about your actions.”

  Another critic I did not need. “I hardly had any help from the Brotherhood or anyone else at the time. I was on my own as Chronos told me. I did what I thought I had to. I make no apologies for my actions,” I said firmly even though he was my superior.

  Philocrates held up his hand in a gesture of peace. “I understand, Alex, which is why only a few here wanted to give you a harsher punishment.”

  “I do not see it that way, but that is water down the Styx River now,” I said, getting my calm composure back. “What do you think?”

  “I approved of your punishment,” the arch-mage said without hesitation, “But not for the reason Herion told us. I believed and still believe you took too much upon to yourself when you killed Lycus and his mage. Many on the Mage Council believed the same thing, but to punish you because they are afraid of your power, was wrong. Herion was a fool, and we replaced and retired him because of it.” He leaned in close to me. “I have known you since you were fifteen. I knew you would never abandon your teachings. I am glad Theodoros had the good sense to restore your rank.”

  “So, how does the Mage Council and the Megas Mage feel about me?” I needed to know who my enemies were at court.

  Philocrates leaned back, seeming to relax, “Since you exposed the Syrina mage threat, many on the Council are changing their minds about the Zilar. This is especially true after the Zilar took Vorepolis. Many, including me, the Council, and the Megas Mage are coming to the conclusion you may have been correct all along. The Zilar are becoming a plague on all the lands and not just Argina’s misfortune.”

  That was gratifying at least. “Then why send the Arch-Mage of Lantis when an eighth-year acolyte could have done this job?”

  “Two reasons,” he said. “First, I know you. I wanted to make sure your adventures had not changed you too much from the boy I taught. Having someone with your power that has a total disregard for the Mage Code, our customs, and common decency is a recipe for disaster. Second, Ethnarch Pytheas is not sure he trusts you. You got rid of one archon and then told your own ethnarch to take a jump into the sea. Perhaps getting rid of another ethnarch would not be a problem for you.”

  “I am only here for a fleet,” I told my former teacher. “Without it, Argina may fall, its people slaughtered, and my forest friends hunted down. Pytheas can give me that fleet, so keeping him alive is necessary. Besides, while I am powerful, the most powerful mages in our world are right here in Lantis. I do not doubt you already have plans in place to contain me if I decided I want to rule instead of Zilar. Besides, Pytheas does not have to fear me. Once my task is done, and the Zilar are defeated, my own ethnarch will likely have me killed.”<
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  Philocrates looked down at me like I was a naughty boy. “Why?” he asked. “You are right about our plans to control you, but none of the master mages who taught you ever had a feeling you wanted to rule the world. Why would Sysgros want you dead?”

  “Because I cannot convince him I do not want his throne,” I said exasperated. “All he sees in me as is a threat he cannot control. Neither he nor his sons want me around. I was afraid the Brotherhood felt the same way.” I next explained what happened to me earlier in the year.

  He shook his white head in disagreement. “No, we do not feel that way about you. As long as you follow the Mage Code and do not repeat what happened to Archon Lycus, no one will bother you from the Brotherhood.”

  “Before this is all over, I cannot promise you that,” I told him. “I will do what I have to protect my friends back home, both human and otherwise.”

  “I understand that,” he said in agreement. “Hopefully, you will never be put into a position like that again that requires you to take such drastic action. As for you and those animal kings and queens you live with, it is a remarkable story. Are they really as big as Malcor said they are?”

  “Twice as big as I am,” I said.

  “Unbelievable,” the arch-mage said and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Now to business,” I said. “Now that you know I have not become a murdering tyrant, and that I am not interested in ruling Lantia, what can you and the Brotherhood do so I can get that fleet?”

  “We can advise Pytheas,” he said. “However, lately, he has become very suspicious and devious. He has just sent his older son to the north to administer the Eparchia of Kyropius on the north coast. His younger son is almost a prisoner in the polis of Nenogenopolis.”

  “Were they plotting against him?” I wondered.

  “Not that we could tell,” Philocrates said. “He even sent his two daughters to become priestesses at the Temple of Apollo. He is alone and stays that way. He spends hours in his vast library, going over maps and reports. People hardly see him except for the weekly meetings of the court.”