Book Read Free

Gifts of the Greeks

Page 21

by Edmund A. M. Batara


  “First, don’t call me Lord. It makes me uncomfortable. Address me as “Sire," that’s what these two have been instructed to do. As to your services, a summary of what you’re going to face may be in order. You may withdraw your offer if you think the odds and the circumstances are too much for you to handle. I won't take it against you. These two huskarls already have been through situations most warriors can't handle.”

  “I believe I can meet your expectations, Sire.”

  “We will see. This is what we have encountered so far and survived," said Tyler, keeping his voice down. "Skaney. Ymir’s lieutenants, mages, an ambush which wiped out a column of reinforcements from Maljen, a mass of jotnar and dokkalfr attacking Scarburg, a night assault on a two-thousand strong encampment, a series of attacks by dokkalfr mages and jotnar against our forest camp, meeting what I believe are stone and earth elementals, encountering an enormous black whirlwind which wiped out Ymir’s army, and a pissed-off arrogant Greek demigod as well as an angry Greek god of war. And the demigod’s mother happens to be Eris, the Greek goddess of discord. Though thankfully, we haven’t heard from her. The Greek god of war is why we’re stuck here in Hellas, facing an invasion as well as other interesting tourist attractions.”

  “Scarburg, Sire? You were there?”

  “Didn’t I just say it? The All-Father knows. Thor knows. Loki probably knows too.”

  “You saw them?” came the incredulous reply.

  “Ask them,” Tyler said, pointing to the two huskarls. “Well, Jorund saw them at the Scarburg inn. Habrok went ahead so he probably missed them. Loki, on the other hand, is a bit more discrete. Though these two have met him in one of his guises."

  “Then, Hellas,” continued Tyler. “Here we have the pleasure of meeting a giant snake drakon, fast mechanical hoplites, and a giant machine which looked like a hybrid of a spider and a scorpion. Though these gentlemen missed the last two I mentioned. Oh, a visitation by an angry minor Greek god of threats belonging to the retinue of Ares. These two also missed that one. And now, we are facing an invasion by other Greek city-states, the Dorian side of Hellas. Information indicates that would be a total of 80,000 to 100,000 soldiers when the armies are finally gathered. And guess what we’re going to defend? This city. Poor defenses. Barely trained men. And a defending force with a grand total of 7,000 men. And that’s on the optimistic side of things. Finally, expect more of what I said before our time in Hellas is over. IF we get to the end of this tale alive and breathing. Preferably with no loss of any limb.”

  Astrid was silent. The four waited. Jorund and Habrok were looking at Tyler with strange expressions on their faces. It was only now they have learned of the full count of Tyler’s experiences.

  Astrid looked around the table. She finally spoke up.

  “I will serve, Sire.”

  “You’re sure about this, Astrid? You don’t even know what I am doing to warrant all this lovely attention. There will be more captivating experiences. Though I sincerely hope they can be held to a minimum.”

  “I am, Sire.”

  Tyler turned to Dionysus.

  “Would it be possible to use your back room for our continued discussion? We're attracting enough attention as it is.”

  “By all means, use it. Nobody’s usually using it anyway.”

  “Thanks, Dio. Jorund, go and bring them with you, I’ll follow.”

  “Astrid’s weapons, Sire?”

  “Oh, let Habrok carry them.”

  “Very well, Sire,” replied Jorund, his eyes betraying amusement.

  After the three had gone ahead, Tyler turned to Dionysus. But the deity spoke first.

  “That’s a fine pick of a Dorian vintage you got yourself into, young mage.”

  “I hope it doesn’t get worse. There's something I’ve been waiting to ask you. How’s Eleos? Does he know?”

  “Resting. Recovering. He needs to be back in full health when he reports to the temple. He still doesn’t know though the changes in his body will probably lead him to that conclusion.”

  “Don’t you want to tell him now?”

  “And miss all the drama? Eleos can wait. I haven’t seen a play this interesting in a long time! The intrigue! The backstory! The throwing axes! Let’s finish this and then I can go to Eleos.”

  Tyler shook his head at the deity's reaction. Interesting indeed, he thought. But it’s like trying to mix oil and water. The two went to the shielded room.

  As they entered, Tyler noticed that Jorund was seated beside Astrid while Habrok was in front of them. A guard position for Jorund. In the event Astrid tries to jump Habrok, he observed. Dionysus sat at the head of the long table while Tyler took his seat beside Habrok.

  “Astrid, the man beside you is Jorund. A tested warrior. Fought off ice elves and vargyr while I was incapacitated. Habrok was holding the right flank during that time. Got hit with a javelin from… I really don’t remember who threw the javelin. That was a motley mix of men, dokkalfr , and jotnar .”

  “I didn’t notice too, Sire,” commented Jorund. "My attention was on the mage."

  “These two have been through death and more for me, Astrid. Ymir’s mage of a lieutenant clearly didn’t intend death as our end. You know there are worse things than a death of the body. You are untested. Unknown. I see you are a fast warrior. But this job entails more than being a warrior versed in the art of arms. You have to realize that. Especially when facing things out of your nightmares and imagination. You will meet gods. Monsters. Champions. And you will not falter. You will stand beside your comrades.”

  And there’s one in this very room, thought Tyler.

  “I will, Sire.”

  “Now your geas. With these three and gods of both Skaney and Hellas as witnesses, do you swear that you will obey and follow me on this quest? To stand with and defend your comrades? To hold secret all knowledge learned during your journey with me, even after said time is over? To not betray me, your comrades, and allies? To give me power over your life while in my service?”

  “I do, Sire. I do swear,” came the unequivocal reply.

  “Thank you, Astrid. Remember, words are fine but actions do the actual telling.”

  “Now, let’s clear something up. What did Habrok do?” Tyler looked at Habrok. The man was quiet but clearly wanted to say something.

  “You’ll get your chance to speak, Habrok,” he added.

  “It’s my sister, Sire. Leda. Habrok seduced and then left her with a child. My sister is heart-broken up to now. She cries every day and I couldn’t stand it. So, I swore vengeance on the one responsible. Our parents are already dead.”

  “Habrok? Your side of the story,” asked Tyler.

  “I remember Leda. A small village near Karsfell. But I didn’t seduce her. She seduced me. I was staying at an inn. She was working there. Why would I seduce her? I already had the pleasure of the company of two serving women there. And I have heard tales of her warrior sister. I tried to play it safe and avoided courting her.”

  “Liar!” exclaimed Astrid.

  “Now, calm down, Astrid. You dishonor your training. Where’s the calmness demanded by your calling?” rebuked Tyler. Astrid quieted down.

  “So, what happened, Habrok?”

  “I should have known she was interested in me when I noticed my food servings were bigger and always had an extra treat when she was the one serving the food. Then one night, she came to my room. My room was locked, if anybody would like to ask. But she was able to open it. Unfortunately, that was also a time when I had the urge. Just came back from hunting jotnar . A group of them were preying on small farms around the city.”

  “Not only once, Habrok?”

  “Well, once the dam had been opened…”

  “Did you know she was with child when you left Karsfell?”

  “No. I had to leave suddenly. A lead. My hunting group had to track the jotnar . Took us on a merry chase up to the Barren Hills. Caught up with them near Haagen’s Folly. Good thing we
didn’t run into any Alfheimr . Then, at Toten, we got another job. Never had the chance to go back to Karlsfell.”

  “Forgive me for asking this but how can you be sure that it’s his child?” Tyler asked Astrid, with some degree of tentativeness.

  “The boy looks like him. Same hair, facial features. Even the nose and those deceiving eyes,” came the reply.

  “Now, Habrok, what if that’s your child?”

  “You know, Sire, I had many girlfriends but this is the first time I heard I have a child. A son. After everything, I will go and visit Karsfell. If it is indeed my son, then he shall have a father. But I can’t promise marriage. I don’t intend to marry. And then again, if it’s marriage because of a night’s passion, or several nights and days for that matter, I think there’s a long line ahead of the lass. Which reminds me, I still have a promise to Rumpr.”

  Tyler glanced at the man. It was a side of Habrok he had not seen. The man did have some sense of obligation, he observed. And his gods help him if claimants to his fatherhood start popping up all over the place.

  “That good enough for you, Astrid?”

  “It will have to do, Sire. At least the boy will have a father while growing up.”

  “Well, that’s settled then. Back to business. Somebody asked me why wait for the 80,000 to gather and introduce themselves to us,” said Tyler. “I think that’s a very good question.”

  Chapter Lore:

  Alfheimr - Old Norse. Light elves.

  King Midas - Greek Mythology. A well-known myth, the story of the golden touch centered around the gratitude of the god Dionysus. One day, his tutor and foster father, the minor deity Papposilenus, got drunk and wandered away. He was found by men of Phrygia, who brought him to King Midas. The king recognized him and treated him with honor. He was entertained as a royal guest for ten days and nghts. When the minor deity was brought back to Dionysus, the god was so happy that he gave the king his choice of reward. King Midas choose the touch of gold. Legend says Dionysus was unhappy about the king's wish but had to grant it. The wish turned out to be a curse. Eventually, Dionysus told the king to wash his hand in the river Pactolus for the curse to be removed.

  Chapter XIII

  A Forced Hand

  A quiet room greeted his question. Then Jorund spoke.

  “I have no idea, Sire. Matters of strategy are not within my experience. But my informants tell me that around 10,000 to 15,000 are encamped in the area around Dori. That includes Dori’s contribution. That city wouldn’t commit all its soldiers to the campaign, it does need to have a substantial number left behind for its defense.”

  “Any idea about the breakdown of the troops? I mean, from what cities?”

  “No particulars yet on the cities but of the force encamped, about half are regular soldiers from Dori while the rest are either mercenaries or initial commitments from allied cities.”

  Tyler turned to Dionysus.

  “Any news yet on the brothers? The rest of the entourage?”

  “The brothers appear to be moving about. Usually, they spend only one day in a city. But they do return after a while. No news yet on whether they move separately. For now, they move as one with a lochos or two as guards. The latest information is that they’re on their way back to Dori. On Ares’ retinue, strangely we haven’t heard any news about them. Quite unusual. One would think they would be all over the place. But the Champion of Ares is in Dori.”

  “A Champion?” asked Tyler.

  “Ares has a Champion. Limits himself to Dorian lands. Forcibly imposes the will of the god. I suspect he’s a visitor. Champions usually are. Loyal to a fault. Described as tall, heavily muscled, fast, and excellent at weapons. Brutish features, if reports are to be believed. Armored head to toe in a heavier variant of the hoplite armor. Not Hephaestus’ work. But enchanted down to the smallest detail. It should be, if it’s that heavy. Hephaestus work would much better."

  “What else do you know about this Champion? Can he be reasoned with? Fair?”

  “Hah! Unfortunately, I only have the vilest news about him. Cruel, takes what he wants, disrespectful towards priests of other deities, quick to temper, and sadly, also says he is also my follower. Drinks a lot of wine, that man. And the Akrotiri vintage to boot."

  “Have you heard about him, Jorund?”

  “Only a bit, Sire. My instructions are for information about armies and movements, not Champions, demigods, and minor gods. My informants are leery about those beings. Though from what I have heard, Master Dio is correct. Master Dio did forget to mention the Champion moves around with a bevy of women, willing and unwilling followers. A personal harem.”

  “Unfortunately, if we lose, that’s the kind of Champion who will be walking around here,” said Tyler. “Anyway, I think it’s time to call it a day. Think about what we discussed here and try to come up with plans and suggestions. I’m not talking about Habrok’s fatherhood, just to clear about it.”

  “Good night, Sire. We will meet tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes, Jorund. Take your breakfast after waking up. Then we’ll gather here, in this room, again.”

  After the three had left, Tyler asked Dionysus.

  “A Champion of Ares. Didn’t know about that,” he told the deity.

  “You should have expected it. I heard about that little brawl with one of Thor’s Champions. We’re lucky Ares made only one. Though a heavily equipped and trained fellow.”

  “And an evil one. From what you said.”

  “Not evil. Evil is a totally different matter. Supay is evil. This Champion is merely power-hungry, abusive, cruel, foul. Like some humans. Rulers and ruled alike. But he’s not evil down to the core of his being. A Champion reflects the character of his patron. A mortal version of the god. And he fits Ares perfectly. An arrogant and stupid bully. But you have to think of a way to handle him. Perhaps more difficult to handle than a demigod. Wonder where he got that armor though?”

  “I do disagree with the “merely” part of it. But why a visitor as a Champion?”

  “No idea. It’s the deity’s choice. Though that Champion is lucky. Some visitors who have unacceptable ideas, proved disloyal, or useless have been sent to the various hells of the pantheons. Some passed through the sacrificial victim stage, of course. Depending on the pantheon. Not a good way to spend eternity.”

  “He’s probably somebody like Achilles.”

  “No, no, no. Achilles is his own level of madness. Even Ares was afraid to meet him. He gambled on Diomedes, but that gamble failed, to his eternal shame. Though Hera and Athena did help Diomedes. Imagine that! Hera against her son! And with the permission of Zeus, no less. Made Ares a laughing stock. Worsened by Athena’s boulder stunt. Achilles is a mortal of sorts. Mother was an immortal Nereid. Didn’t take the worship or patronage of any deity. Used them, of course. Got his armor from Hephaestus, for example. Handsome, civil, a bit of brain, spoke eloquently. The dark side is more revealing. Engaged in human sacrifice, if anybody remembers the pyre of Patroclus. Raped a few women and men indubitably. In that, he reveals the heights of what man could strive for and the depths of what man could sink to once madness sets in. Human sacrifices are usually for dark deities, they obtain power from it.”

  “So, we have to be thankful that this Champion is not an Achilles.”

  “Yes. Not even a smidgen of Achilles' might and ability.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  “But with heavily enchanted armor and strong as a minotaur.”

  “You’re a dear friend to me, Dio. But sometimes a positive statement could help, especially when it’s time for bed.”

  Dionysus laughed.

  “Here’s a positive thing. From what I have seen, you will be able to take him. Easily. Maybe.”

  It was Tyler’s turn to laugh. He stood up.

  “It would have been nice if you didn’t mention that “maybe” part. Goodnight, Dio.”

  “Sleep well, High Mage. Remember, you still have to explain
what I saw in your room.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” replied Tyler as he walked out the door. Where he found Astrid waiting.

  “My apologies, Sire. But I also have a message for you from the temple of the All-Father. I left a small box under your pillow. I didn’t want to hold on to it any longer as I had to scout the city. I knew enemies were around and the safest place would be your room. I again apologize for entering your room without your consent, but Master Dio accompanied me. The box is under your pillow. You are supposed to crush whatever is inside.”

  “It’s alright, Astrid. Though asking Master Dio’s permission was a well-thought precaution. I don’t usually like people going through my room, but I’ll make an exception of it this time. Thank you.”

  Astrid bowed, and as she was going to leave, Tyler called her.

  “Astrid. Give Habrok a chance. He’s a good man underneath all that bluster and history.”

  “I will, Sire. I already have. Thank you, Sire.”

  Dionysus appeared beside him.

  “A human trait. Forgiveness. A second chance. An exceptional characteristic few deities exhibit. Now I know why the old man with an eye-patch sent her here.”

  “Why?” asked Tyler, intrigued by the statement.

  “Without a resolution to her obsession with revenge, she will never be a Valkyrie. For the old man to go to these lengths to help her, there must be something in her which Zeus' deems as a desirable quality. A quality which will make her an exceptional Valkyrie. And I am not talking about her body. She’s very physically attractive. Once you remove the hack and slash aspect.”

  “You forgot the “cut."

  “Right. The “hack, slash, and cut” aspect. I’ll be off to Eleos.”

  “Congratulations, Dio. And give him my congratulations too.”

  “I will. I have to thank you, Tyler. For all you’ve done. Is this how a proud parent feels?”

  “Yes. And enjoy it. In the company of your son.”

  “I will.”

  As the deity left, Tyler looked at him for a while. It did feel strange that his arrival here made it possible for the two to be reconciled as father and son, resulting in a demigod of assassins in the process. Even the cordial relations he now has with an erstwhile enemy, the Ismenian drakon and his race, feels scripted. No, not scripted but the result of a gamble somebody took on him doing the right thing. Is somebody looking out for him? Then he discarded the notion. If looking out meant keeping him jumping through dangerous hoops time after time, then no thanks.

 

‹ Prev