Gifts of the Greeks

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “How so?”

  “Akrotiri is an Ionian city. But it borders Dori, the capital city of the Dorians. As of now, anyway. The capital changes depending who is more powerful among the Dorian cities. When that happens, the rest are called towns. In Kriti, anyway. The Dorians worship Ares as their favorite deity. Figures. The Ionians and Dorians really don’t trust each other. Some fighting had marked their relationship but nothing serious for several decades now. Then you arrive here. Get the picture?”

  “Consider me dumb, Dio.”

  Dionysus sighed and shook his head.

  “If I didn’t know you just arrived in Hellas, I would have cursed you with a month-long hangover. The worse kind you can think of.”

  “You and Athena. You in a city of Athena. A city not on good terms with a city which worships Ares. Ares doesn’t like Athena. Especially after being buried by a boulder the last time they fought,” continued Dionysus. "Two birds with one stone opportunity."

  “He still can’t attack me here, can he?”

  “No, but the Dorians can. You are mortal. If you die by mortal hands, then his hands are clean. Which brings me to the next tidbit of bad news. I have learned Phobos and Deimos are active in Dori. I don't know about Eris, the goddess of discord, but she is closely related to him. His sister. You did beat up her son. Good job! I never did like that puffed up bastard anyway.”

  “War is coming because of me?”

  “A cask of the best wine to the winner! You got that right on your first try!”

  “Aw, freak me! War? Again? Because of me?”

  “Yes! And in my favorite city too! Where my best temple is located! Though it had Athena as its primary deity for a long time, I love it here. For some reason, it is the best wine growing region in Hellas.”

  “What temple? I only saw Athena’s and the others.”

  “Where do you think you are staying, Havard? Isn’t this inn too opulent and too rich for this ragtag excuse for a city?”

  Come to think of it, an inn with a tavern would be the best temple for him.

  “I was puzzled myself, to tell the truth.”

  “See? Though your rooms are not the usual offerings of the inn,” laughed the god.

  “Would it be better if we leave this city and move further away?”

  “Maybe. But you will be watched and will be attacked. Even killed. And if that happens, Athena will have my head.”

  “Why? It’s only us mortals. Three of us to be exact.”

  “For some reason, she wants you here in Akrotiri. She did stick me with babysitting duties.”

  “Our meeting was not a chance encounter, I presume?”

  “Boy, whenever you start meeting deities on a regular basis, never think that anything is a chance encounter. As to her plans, I have no idea. But you will do well to remember that she is wilier than Zeus could ever be. Far more insidious in her planning. And dangerously prone to acts of retribution and punishment. Frightfully focused on her job too, if I may add.”

  “I am screwed again, am I?”

  “Both of us, my boy! Royally and divinely screwed.”

  “What happens now?”

  Dionysus thought for a while.

  “Well, I am not the best of beings to ask when it comes to matters of war. Diplomacy, sometimes. Though most times my involvement does lead to war. People do the damnedest things when they’re drunk.”

  “But,” continued Dionysus, “we do have some time. Even with those two sons of mayhem running around, Dori needs to mobilize men from its allied cities. Its army alone is not enough to take Akrotiri. This city also has its friends. Ratios of war and all that stuff.”

  “We wait until they invade?”

  “Maybe? But even then, Dorians are the best among the Greeks in open warfare. Man to man, phalanx to phalanx, they usually prevail.”

  Oh, shit. I'm on the side fighting against this world's Spartans.

  “How do Greeks fight in this world? No hunkering down in walled cities?”

  “That would be unusual. Though it had been done in the past. Troy, for example. A lot of sieges back on the First World. But now, the art of siege warfare is a bit rusted in Hellas. Warring cities have to contend with harvests and the economic side of life. More rivals too. The longer a war drags on, both sides lose. Famine is a deadlier enemy and lasts longer than any campaign. It’s a guaranteed way for a king’s head to decorate his gates. Perhaps one reason why Greek warfare here on Adar tend to be quick affairs. Also, there is this strange notion about honor in meeting your enemy on the field of battle. Even if they only need to piss to defeat you.”

  “Any idea on the forces which may be involved?”

  “The Dorian alliance may be able to muster around twenty-five to thirty thousand men. Akrotiri and its allies around fifteen thousand. Akrotiri alone would be lucky to field eight thousand soldiers, hoplites and others included.”

  “How long before the Dorians move?”

  “Depends on how well those two hellions do their work. I heard they just started. Ares must really be mad for them to act this fast considering their father was just punished. But we do have to expect his other attendants to be active too. But as to who is going to be involved is another matter. Ares won’t leave himself without at least several at hand. Nor will he show himself on the battlefield. But I may be wrong.”

  “We need information, Dio. Without accurate information, we’re done for. Though I am tempted to say we're already baked and served. Our side is outmatched and outnumbered. Will we be doing this openly? As in you and me? Deity and visitor?”

  “Nope. We will be involved, but we have to adopt other guises. Especially me. We don’t want this to turn into another Troy.”

  “How do we do that? You may be able to pass yourself off as a native, but I don’t even know the king of this city.”

  “Hah! But you do, my friend. You know him very well.”

  “You?” asked the disbelieving Tyler.

  “Noooo! Never had the inclination for ruling. Though sometimes my father insists on training me. That’s worrying about a thousand matters a day. Cuts down on the fun time. Somebody had to run the inn too.”

  “PAPPO?”

  “That’s His Royal Highness Silenus to you. With Athena’s permission, of course. But come to think of it, Pappo being king may have had some influence on our little invasion problem. Greek kings usually pride themselves on martial prowess. Pappo's interests lie somewhere else.”

  “OMG! We are definitely freaked! In so many ways!”

  “What’s OMG?” asked DIO, unruffled by Tyler’s outburst.

  “A modern expression. An acronym meaning “Oh My God!”.”

  “First off, my boy, in Adar that’s “gods.” Plural. Many don’t think well of the adoption of a singular form. Second, we're gods. We don’t fight mortal battles. We find somebody to do it for us. That’s you. Third, I am but your babysitter. You come up with the solution, Hero of the Telemark.”

  A wide smile accompanied the last sentence. Tyler shook his head.

  “I hate you. Do I even need to be involved in all of these matters?”

  “Of course not, my boy! But unless you’re capable of withstanding the displeasure of the likes of Zeus, Athena, and company, it is wise to play along and give it your best shot.”

  “Why do I always end up as a god’s pawn? I seem to notice that trend lately.”

  At Tyler's statement, the face of Dionysus became serious. And for Tyler, that was an unusual demeanor for the deity.

  “Havard, listen and listen well. Even gods become pawns in divine games. It all depends on who are the players. Whether you like it or not, you are now enmeshed in what the gods call the Great Game. Power, greed, treachery, and false friends await. Rewards, of course. That's a given. Whether it is worth the experience is another matter. A singular honor or divine punishment for a mere mortal, take your pick.”

  “Don’t I get any choice in the matter?”

  “Boy
, IF you want to have a choice in the matter, then bring your own rules and let them play your game. Until such time, everything is but a step forward for you, hopefully in the right direction.”

  Tyler didn't answer. He looked at the god and nodded. Dionysus winked back.

  “I guess Pappo is not going to be leading the Akrotiri side in this war.”

  “Oh, he will! But not at the front. He’s a god! If he wanted to, he could just leave and wait for a few hundred years before coming back. But even Pappo senses something is stirring. Something big. Adar-big. So, like any bored god, he wants to be there and watch it happen. That lucky old donkey!”

  “Why do you call him lucky? You can also do what you said he could do.”

  “My boy, your babysitter, remember? Unfortunately, I get to be in the middle of the entire thing. And unable to use my full powers lest others get involved also!”

  “This is really freaking me out. You get to be my watcher and yet unable to do anything to help me? Against the odds we have been discussing?”

  “Actually, our recitation of the odds was not that exhaustive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there are a lot of warlike creatures on Hellas. We don’t know which or who will answer the call of the sons of Ares or his attendants.”

  “OH, FOR THE LOVE OF…” Tyler stopped when Dio held up a finger, warning him.

  “… gods.”

  “Who then will run the entire show,” asked Tyler dejectedly.

  “In public or in reality?”

  “I don’t think I will like your answer, Dio.”

  “YOU WILL RUN THE SHOW!” declared Dio excitedly.

  Ask a stupid question and you get a stupider answer, thought Tyler.

  “Of course, the king through his general, Makyrs of Lankada, will officially be the manager of the coming extravaganza but you get to decide matters. Very hush-hush. Don’t worry about the general. He's half-satyr actually.”

  “A SATYR AS A GENERAL?”

  “Well, the warlike races do favor Ares, or even Athena at times, so he’s the best compromise. Don’t look at me like that! I didn't expect war to be on my doorstep! And the satyr did prove to be a good choice in the small running border fights we have been playing. He does have a good head on those rounded shoulders. And loins, if I may add.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “No. On both counts.”

  This is turning out to be a fine Greek comedy if the possible consequences weren’t so tragic. In a strange land. With a drunkard as a babysitter. Papposilenus as a king. A half-satyr as his general. Gods taking an undue interest in me. Gods taking an undue interest against me. Another war. Another game. And I doubt if it had been a month since I got here.

  As those thoughts ran through his mind, Dionysus noticed.

  “Why the face, young mage?”

  “Wouldn’t you have the same face if you were in my position?” Tyler shot back.

  “It would be enough to drive me to drink. Care for some wine?”

  “Why not? It’s not as if I'm going anywhere else.”

  “Excellent! I have just the vintage for us! Red wine! The best from Akrotiri! Just when I thought I have to find Habrok to get a drinking companion!”

  “Why? Where's His Royal Highness?”

  “Gone to play the part of course. A king whose kingdom is under threat of invasion! Gone to plead with his allies!”

  Dionysus waved his hand and three bottles of red wine appeared between them together with filled glasses.

  “Does he have to? He's a god, as you said. He could have just commanded them.”

  “Rules, Tyler. You play as a mortal, then as a human a god must act.”

  Dionysus took a sip of his glass. “Excellent vintage, as I said.”

  Did he just call me by my name?

  “I can’t understand why gods are so willing to act as mortals?”

  “Didn’t you get the “playing the part” statement? Where’s the excitement and thrill of living if he acts like a god? Or a minor god, to be precise? Gods play as humans to add spice to their boring existence. You forget the millennia of existence behind each deity. Mortals, by far, have more interesting lives. Short, but definitely more interesting.”

  “Is that what mortals are for? Playthings of deities here?” Tyler’s voice was rising. The sheer arrogance of the concept was riling him.

  “Stop right there, boy! I am half-mortal, if you haven’t forgotten. But you’re right. The entire matter is enough to drive anyone to despair. Unless wine is at hand.”

  Dionysus took another drink from his wine glass.

  “I think your wine is starting to feel neglected.”

  Tyler tasted it. He had little wine experience but the god was right. The profile and texture of the wine were just right. His palate never had anything like it.

  “It just isn’t right, Dionysus. Mortals at the whims and caprices of such childish beings. Not that all deities are bad,” hastily added Tyler. Being with Dionysus sometimes makes him forget that the being is a deity on Adar.

  “I can’t argue with that. But don’t quote me. God games become dangerous after a while. Somebody loses his or her temper. Somebody goes and cries for help. Before you know it, a full-blown pantheon war is going on. Mortals as game pieces are more convenient and far less dangerous for deities.”

  “It still isn’t right.”

  “I hear you, my boy. But….” Dionysus stopped talking and held up his hand, motioning for Tyler to keep quiet and stay in place.

  The deity sighed.

  “It seems we have a visitor. One of Ares' own.”

  “They learned of my presence here already? That was fast.”

  “Spies would be more likely, young mage. Aphrodite does have a temple here. You do know the story about Ares seducing her though she was married to Hephaestus. Ares wouldn’t have gotten into her chiton if not for the connivance of some of her followers.”

  Dionysus then looked at Tyler.

  “Though I wish it was me. Without the bed trap and the ignominy that followed, of course,” laughed the deity.

  “Who comes?”

  “Excellent question. You know, my boy, I think deep inside you is a naughty mage waiting to get out. Anyway, it’s Minis, one of Ares' retinue. He represents threats. That’s in capital letters.”

  “So, I go out and face him?”

  “No, no, no. You are in my house, so you're my responsibility. Rule of hospitality. He’s not a threat to me. Unless you want to take him on?”

  “Is he as fast as his master? That’s how Ares got me.”

  “No. Not fast. Tries to destroy your confidence. Magically, of course. Happens once he starts talking to you. Me? I'm immune. Must be the alcohol in my blood,” Dionysus again winked at him.

  “I'm tired of Ares and his ilk. I won’t give him the chance to talk.”

  “Let me talk to him first. But outside the inn. Can’t have all that damage inside. I do have to prepare the stage for your performance so no mortal witnesses what happens. You sure about this?”

  “Yes. Just as I am sure the word “coward” will escape his foul mouth. When that happens, I'll hit him.”

  “Fine. As long as you’re certain. We’re at war with his followers already anyway.”

  The two went down to the main hall. Tyler stood behind the door while Dionysus went out to meet the minor deity. In his hidden position, Tyler could hear everything.

  He could hear Dionysus walking across the veranda of the inn and down the three steps into the street. Shortly afterward, the arrival of a horse and the thump of Minis' boots when he dismounted could be heard.

  “Hail, Minis. What brings you to this fair city?”

  “You know why, god of drunks. Where is he?”

  Tyler was appalled at the statement of Minis. Dionysus was a major god in the Greek pantheon. The question was cunningly descriptive but insulting at the same time. Not to mention Minis was the one encro
aching on the deity's temple.

  “Is that a threat, Minis? You know me.”

  “Bring him out, drunken god. He is of no concern to you. Or are you against Ares now?”

  “Sides don’t matter to me, bringer of threats. And don’t presume to teach me the rules. You know Ares is prohibited from touching him.”

  “My Lord Ares is prohibited but I am not! I take what happened to my liege as a personal affront. An insult! No, I won’t kill the bastard. Merely bring him to dinner,” said Minis who then howled with laughter.

  “Come now, Minis. Is that anyway for one of Ares' own to act? He’s but a mortal.”

  “HAH! A mortal who presumes too much. He’s not in Skaney now so he can’t hide behind that one-eyed old man! Nor can he hide forever behind Athena’s skirts or yours!”

  “Don’t you think you’re starting to be insulting, little pup?”

  “This is going nowhere! Where is he? I'll teach him a lesson he won’t forget before I bring him to Phobos and Deimos! He’s nothing! Nothing but a cowardly little mortal!”

  At that, Tyler quickly walked out the door.

  “Cowardly am I, bag of wind?” said Tyler as he released a strong lightning bolt. He had to take care not to kill the being, if indeed he could kill him. He still didn’t know what the repercussions would be. A painful experience would suffice. Though he was sure Minis would torture him first before dragging him off to the sons of Ares.

  The lightning bolt struck the deity right in his chest. The close distance between him and Tyler didn’t make aiming an issue. As the flash hit, Minis’ entire body was enveloped in a coruscating multicolored light show. His armor and helmet broke apart as the energy crackled through him. His eyes bulged and his mouth was agape. Tyler could see small lightning flashes dancing among the teeth. That must hurt, he thought.

  Tyler could see the body of Minis turning black from the blast and the continued exposure to lightning. The hair, eyebrows, and beard were already burned off, leaving small singed patches. The shield and sword he carried were already pieces of slag on the ground. Tyler started to worry he had released too much energy.

  Some long seconds after, the upright but naked and burned form of Minis fell to the ground, face first. Tyler turned to look at Dionysus who was barely containing his laughter.