by Luke Romyn
Zeus released a heavy breath and ran his hand through his thick, lightly-graying hair. Not since their first meeting had this figure of legend seemed so fragile to Talbot, and he was reminded again of how exaggerated the legend of the Olympians had become.
“Damn,” he heard Zeus mutter. Louder he said, “I thought it was over, I thought we might finally find some peace.”
“How long do you think we have?” asked Wes.
“Mere hours,” replied Zeus. “The Titans are phenomenal war makers, and while your guessing their plans and escaping would have put a glitch in their tactics, they will swiftly recover and begin to prepare. Every moment they delay gives us more time to prepare our own defenses.”
“Well, begging your royal pardon, but shouldn’t you be getting ready for a war rather than standing here counting daisies?” snapped Wes.
His words had the desired effect. Zeus glared at him intensely, but barked an order to one of the soldiers. The Olympian saluted, and then wheeled his horse away, speeding off toward the city. Wes and Talbot were given mounts, and they rode with Zeus and the rest of the soldiers back to the city.
The soldiers rode through the gates in perfect formation, Wes matching their grace. Talbot hadn’t ridden a horse in years, but he somehow managed to find his rhythm on the ungainly mount and followed the rest of the riders into the city. Alarm bells were being sounded throughout the Olympian citadel, and as soon as they were within the thick white wall surrounding the city, huge gates swung closed, a massive crossbeam dropping into place to secure them.
Zeus dismounted, Talbot and Wes following his lead. One of the soldiers collected their mounts and rode off toward the stables. Activity was everywhere, and Talbot was reminded yet again that these people had only recently survived a devastating war. Homes were swiftly shuttered and weapons were brought swiftly through the streets toward the walls.
“Looks like we’re gonna have a hell of a shindig here, baby,” said Wes, grinning wildly.
Zeus rounded on him. “How many troops would you estimate the Titans had?”
“We only saw a token group. They were attempting to look like a defeated race, and as such showed us only family groups and the infirm or elderly. If I had to guess, I’d say they could potentially have between twenty to thirty thousand warriors. They tried to keep the city looking empty, but there were too many houses in good condition for the number of people they displayed to us. Their barracks halls alone could have easily housed twenty thousand soldiers, not including the ones who had homes dotted throughout the city. How many troops do you have here?”
Zeus frowned, looking away before responding. “Just under a thousand.”
“Oh shit,” murmured Talbot.
Wes, however, seemed to take the news in his stride. “This place is well constructed and fortified, even against a force like the Titans. Your outer walls have crenellated parapets, which are great for defense –” Wes pointed to the craggy, cut out portions to the wall which defenders could take cover behind “– and your weaponry is fantastic. How many arrows do you have?”
“Only around three thousand,” replied Zeus.
“Then that’s three thousand dead Titans,” said Wes. “More if they work as well on those big bastards as they did on those bird things the centaurs attacked under Ayers Rock. Do you have any other assets? Talbot told me about that big fucker with a billion arms. Any more of those guys hanging around?”
“Briareus was an experiment of the Titans – much like many other creatures from that realm. Their race was always violent, given to atrocities such as we could not comprehend. They poisoned their world in such a way as to make the very air warp creatures into horrific parodies of life –”
“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Wes. “That’s really very sad, but what about big fuckers who can help us kill our enemies. Have you got any of them?”
Zeus controlled his temper with effort. “Briareus has so-called ‘brothers’ such as the giant which attacked your companion, but he is the only mutated creature which allied himself to our cause. I managed to clone him twice, however, during the last war using methods known only to us.”
“That was such a difficult way of telling me there’s three of them. Where are they?”
“Kottos and Gyes are being summoned, along with Briareus, as we speak,” replied Zeus, ignoring Wes’s rudeness. Talbot felt certain if the situation were different the king of the Olympians would have an entirely different reaction to Wes’s insolence.
“What about big-ass weapons?” asked Wes. “Do you have any cannons or rocket launchers?”
“We have several catapults, but they will be useless unless we place them outside the walls.”
Wes glanced around, staring up at the huge walls. “Not necessarily,” he murmured.
***
“Come on, you gigantic bastards!” yelled Wes from the battlements.
The three huge Hecatonchires hauled the massive catapult up the wall. The weapon was at least a hundred and fifty tons of steel and stone, but the multi-limbed and headed creatures carried the immense weapons up the hundred-foot walls like they were feathered pillows. The most difficult thing they encountered was avoiding damage to the huge machinery, so while two of the giants pulled from the top, one hung precariously from a thick rope and stopped the catapult from bashing and scraping against the high wall.
There were already three other catapults placed in strategic positions upon the high wall, a massive pile of glowing projectiles beside them. The container-like basket loaded the projectiles as soon as the gigantic arm of the catapult was drawn back. Talbot had wondered about this, knowing that the power contained within those projectiles was similar to electricity and as such would harm anyone who touched them. In answer, he witnessed Olympians wearing thick, rubber-like insulated gloves loading the baskets. For such primitive-looking machines, the catapults seemed incredibly efficient. Several test shots had resulted in incredible explosions. Talbot began to like their chances more and more.
And then he remembered what they faced.
He strode atop the battlements, a hundred feet above the rocky ground which stretched towards the rift from Tartarus a mile or so distant. The huge rift shimmered, and colors swirled upon the inky surface, reminding Talbot once more of oil on water.
Soon, a host of alien creatures would surge through that gate between the realms, intent upon destroying the people here in order to take over this realm. Talbot had never witnessed a battle before, not even on the television back home. Now, however, he was garbed for war, a solid bronze helm upon his head, the nasal bar pushing down slightly, the cheek guards pressing onto his skin.
The leather kilt with bronze reinforcing strips was difficult to get used to as well, though Wes strode the walls in his like he had been born to wear it, the shining bronze greaves on his shins glinting in the bright blue sunlight. It was like they had stepped back in time to the days of ancient Greece, but an ancient Greece whose weapons were almost futuristic in their power. Even the armor, though made from bronze, was apparently strong enough to withstand a bite from the jaws of Cerberus itself! Not that Talbot wanted to put this theory to the test....
The final catapult swung into place, and Wes slapped the huge Hecatonchires brother, Kottos, on the rump. Talbot was amazed at the easy manner Wes had around the lumbering creatures, and they in turn had swiftly come to respect the rough-talking Aussie, despite – or maybe because of – his sometimes strange behavior.
Wes had organized the defenses of the city efficiently and without embellishment. They were designed to be functional and devastating against an enemy which they were estimating would be more than thirty times their number.
Thirty. Thousand. Titans.
If Wes’s estimation proved correct, they would soon be under siege from an astronomical contingent, along with whatever assortment of creatures available at the Titans’ beck and call. Creatures like the horrific Cerberus.
Suddenly the hundred-foot
high walls didn’t seem so secure.
Horns sounded, echoing off the mountains encircling the plain. Talbot looked at the summits, wondering if those peaks might be the only witnesses to the end of Mount Olympus. Suddenly Talbot was hit by the realization that if he died here, there would be nobody left alive to close off the Syrpeas Gate, leaving it uncontested to expand and absorb the entire universe.
He shrugged. As Wes would say: Who gives a shit? If they were dead, it wouldn’t worry him anyway.
The horns sounded again, and Talbot snapped his gaze forward, staring out toward the rift. It shimmered and swirled, disgorging rank upon rank of Titan troops, each warrior covered from head to toe in malicious-looking, black armor. Talbot swallowed as the troops spread out, swiftly filling the entire valley as more poured through the rift behind them. He lost count, but quickly realized that Wes had been almost conservative with his estimation of the enemy’s numbers.
And then the beasts came through.
We’re all going to die, thought Talbot.
CHAPTER 16
Eight gryphons circled overhead. They occasionally swooped down to attack, but were generally kept at bay by the Olympian archers. The arrows sliced deep into the flesh of the huge winged beasts, and after their initial attempts to get within range to use their fiery breath were repulsed, they retreated to a safer distance. Now they seemed content to wait for an opportunity to attack which didn’t involve such direct risk as flying through a hail of Olympian arrows.
Three giants, each at least three times the height of one of the Hecatonchires, lumbered forth from the rift. Despite the arrows’ amazing range, they did little more than annoy the behemoths. The projectiles from the catapults were much more devastating, though, and Talbot found he was hugely thankful Wes had the forethought to reposition the massive ballistae. Each direct hit smashed the huge giants backwards – several even knocking them completely over. Unfortunately none of the impacts were enough to seriously injure the giants.
Minotaurs by the hundreds flanked the left side of the attacking force. A myriad of other fantastic creatures wove in and around the Titans. Cerberus appeared to be missing, Talbot noticed, but that wouldn’t influence the battle at all. There was no way the Olympians could hold off such a horde, rapidly filling the valley as more and more poured through the rift.
As soon as the giants reached the hundred foot high battlements – which had seemed so powerful when Talbot had first glimpsed them – they would tear them to pieces like children conquering sandcastles. The battle after that would be academic: the Olympians would die.
The entire ramparts were manned with one thousand Olympian defenders. The length of wall, between the two ridges of the sharp mountain range, was around half a mile wide – long enough to make it difficult to defend against a horde numbering in the tens-of-thousands, not including the beasts attacking with them. A single giant would surely be enough to destroy the Olympian force on its own, let alone three of them together!
Talbot’s mouth was dry and his knees began to shake, but he forced himself to stand strong. He glanced over at Wes as he strode through the Olympians toward him. The commando was swapping jokes with the nervous warriors and patting backs, and Talbot noticed the Australian’s confidence seemed to act like a calming wave. Soldiers appeared less tense after Wes had passed, as though his confidence were somehow passed on to them through his words or actions.
“Fuck, there sure are a lot of them,” said Wes when he reached Talbot’s side in the center of the wall. The commando grinned. “This is going to be all sorts of fun.”
Talbot shook his head, but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across his own features. Without too much surprise he realized his legs no longer felt weak.
“You ever been in love Doc?” asked Wes suddenly, surprising Talbot with the abrupt change of subject.
Talbot frowned. “Why?”
“I was in love once. Her name was Donna,” replied Wes. “Hurt like hell when she slept with my best mate. After that, death don’t seem too bad.”
Talbot looked away, thinking about it. “I’m in love with a girl back home,” he said softly. “But I’ve never even told her. She works with me. Her name is Suzanna.”
“In love with a girl eh?” said Wes with a smirk. “Well wonders never cease. I thought you fancied me for a while there, not that I minded. I’d take it as a compliment. But this Suzanna, is she real, or do you have to inflate her first?”
Talbot chuckled despite himself. “She’s real, and she’s wonderful. I wish I’d had the courage to tell her.”
“Tell her when we get back. I reckon you might just have the balls to do it now,” said Wes.
Talbot looked at Wes and saw that he was serious. “Have you forgotten something?” he asked, indicating the enormous army approaching them. One of the catapults released another projectile which a giant ducked to avoid, and the missile crashed into the ranks of the Titans, killing a score of them.
“Well, we’ve gotta get rid of these guys first,” said Wes with a wink, “but after that – and getting back in time to close off that Syphilis Gate thing – ask your little honey out for an ice cream or something. Whatever it is you nerds do.”
Talbot laughed, his hand absently fingering the hilt of the Olympian sword in his belt. It was nowhere near as powerful as the one Chiron had given to Wes, but he felt better for having it. Not that he knew how to use a sword, but Talbot figured if something bad ran at him he could stick the pointy end into it. Apart from that he had no real idea what the hell he was doing here.
Ah well, he’d thought death was going to take him at any moment during the past week, or however long it had been since this entire thing had begun. Maybe he would survive after all. Stranger things had happened....
And then Talbot looked out at the Titans once more, thousands upon thousands of them, pushing ever closer, and his doubts returned. From this distance they seemed like ants, yet Talbot knew that up close they would prove to be devastating foes. The giants continued to push forward despite the continued assault by the catapults.
The horde was only around half a mile distant now, and the Olympian archers began to pepper them in earnest with their arrows, cutting huge swathes through the ranks. But more came through the rift behind them, and the ones who fell hardly seemed to make a dent on the overall army. The Titan troops did not run or seem to panic in any way; they merely held ranks and strode forward purposely. A distant part of Talbot’s mind actually admired the invaders’ fluid precision.
On the other end of the spectrum were the minotaurs, who tore forward on all fours recklessly through the hail of arrows. Some appeared more agile than the others, ducking effortlessly around the electrified projectiles, but others were not, and soon the ground was thick with half-man, half-bull corpses. They were getting decimated!
While the archers were focused on this seemingly unintelligent waste of time and resources, something else was going on. The thrust of the minotaurs was a ruse. It had effectively distracted the archers from the foes they should not have forgotten....
The gryphons.
One of the gigantic beasts swept down, plunging through the air like a bus-sized eagle. Spraying great bursts of flame, it attacked the defenders along the left side of the battlements. Around thirty Olympians were immersed in the horrific green liquid which instantly exploded into flames. Some stumbled into those close by, setting them ablaze as well. Screams echoed through the still air as others ran to save them, carrying buckets of an Olympian tree-sap known to suffocate the flames; but for many it was too late.
Talbot witnessed all this and swore. Wes barked an order, and the archers swung their aim skyward, releasing a score of arrows directly at the beast, but it swerved away before powering off into the heights, once more out of range.
“Fuck this,” murmured Wes beside Talbot. He waved Zeus over. “Hey Zeus, I need something.”
The leader of the Olympians raised an eyebrow at the impudent g
esture, but disputes over the issue of protocol would wait for another time. He moved swiftly through the defenders upon the battlements, and Wes met him half way.
Wes spoke hurriedly, and Talbot was unable to catch the words. What he could discern, though, was that Wes was asking for a way to combat the eight gryphons who circled overhead. The archers were trying to watch both the gryphons as well as the approaching hoard of Titans. The arrows would prove most devastating against the Titans, but only if they were able to focus all of their archers in concentrated bursts. If only half could attack the Titans while the other half had to watch the skies, they would swiftly be overrun, and any tactical value the archers had would be lost.
Wes finally grinned and slapped Zeus on the shoulder, an action the leader of the Olympians seemed utterly unimpressed by. Choosing to ignore Zeus’s reaction in his usual fashion, Wes called out to a dozen Olympians nearby, who swiftly followed as he raced down the stairs and off toward a large building near the huge rear gates of the city. If Talbot weren’t mistaken, it was the same building which housed the Olympian horses. What could Wes possibly want from –?
An explosion nearby brought Talbot’s attention forward once more, and he saw the giants were now perhaps only three hundred yards distant. One was brushing away the smoldering embers of an Olympian catapult projectile which had smashed against its chest moments before. Hairs on the giant’s chest – each as thick as two of Talbot’s fingers – were still sizzling from the blast, and a black smear of ash spread all the way across the creature’s huge torso. The skin itself, however, appeared untouched by the explosion, and Talbot grimaced. The powerful projectiles were nothing more than a minor deterrent to the giants.
