Chapter Two
So I lied, Have the next chapter early.
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Periander blinked at the incomprehensible gibberish that had come out the big man's mouth. After Zeus's dramatic intervention to Pankratios's desperate plea, Periander would have thought that the gods would have at least made sure their man could speak proper Dorian or at least one of the other Hellene dialects.
Pankratios it seemed, was also less than impressed with the mute that was his supposed salvation for his city and himself if the dour look on his face was any sign. Not that Periander could blame him. Sure the man was big and impressive looking, but if he couldn't speak Greek than he was less than worthless in the long run save for being a slave.
********
Pankriatos would have started weeping if he'd been alone. He'd given a massive gift to the Oracle of Delphi for her advice and at the time he'd been given what seemed utter gibberish for an answer. But he'd done as the Oracle had commanded and what did he get? This overgrown savage that couldn't even speak Greek. The gods were obviously getting one last laugh in at his expense before his final ruin.
He'd been told to find a rock that looked like a cow and offer his blood to it while begging Zeus for a means to save his city, his life, and that of his remaining kin. He quickly fought down the image of all three of his sons' broken corpses in the wake of the last fight with Dyme. Telamon, his eldest, the golden boy and the pride of his father, strong in body and keen of mind. Ever ready to prove his valor for his city and his father. The twins Heraclide and Telemachus, the former with a voice that could rival Apollo's and Telemachus already showing potential for becoming an auger at such a young age. He'd been talking with the head priest for Olenus's temple to Poseidon to take his youngest boy on as a successor. But now that day would never come and his heart still ached at the memories that refused to go away.
After that catastrophe, both personal for himself and for the city, things had become worse. His brothers, who had helped support his take over of the city from those idiots from the Pericildae clan had died not long after one from illness, the other had gotten overly drunk and had tripped and broken his neck.
Then his nephews had followed, while none of them had quite the spark, at least in his opinion, as his own boys. They had been solid and loyal and could have been relied on to help him rule Olenus. Then they had been snatched away one after the other. The final straw being Xenophon's death when a boulder and rolled from seemingly nowhere and had crushed him. He'd been the first one there after he had been found and the sight of the last of his male kin's death had broken something in the normally stoic man.
He'd grapsed his nephew's hand, the one part of the youth that hadn't been crushed under the boulder and had wept like a child.
The next day he had sent a message to the Oracle of Delphi as what to do. Now that his male kin, save for a few distant cousins in Argos, were all dead many in the city saw him as cursed by the gods and murmurs began floating that maybe the exile of the Periclidae had been the cause of it.
If people were willing to contemplate inviting those bastards back to Dyme after what their leader's son Theophilus, had done, then things were truly becoming dire.
He cared little for his own life, after the death of his sons, brothers, and nephews, much of the fire had gone out of him. But his city was still under threat by Dyme's constant pressure and the looming doom of the return of the Periclidae forced him to continue. There were also his wife and daughters to look out for. His wife, Chara, her name a cruel jest if there ever was one, after her son's death the joyful woman he had married all those years ago was gone, in her place was a weeping wreck, a feminine weakness that he never condemned.
The only thing she still seemed to live for was their remaining daughters, Aglaia, the youngest, a little ray of sunshine, Thaleia, the graceful beauty, and his final heartache, Euphrosyne, her name another cruel jape. She'd been happily married less than a year ago with a child expected. Unfortunately, her husband had been lost at sea on a trading mission, the news had so shocked her that she had lost the child soon after.
Crushed she had been forced leave the home she had just started with her husband and had returned back to her father, to sit in the misery that permeated the house in the wake of the death of her brothers.
True they were mere girls, but dammit all they were his girls and after the loss of his sons, he'd give his life to keep them safe.
If this venture had failed he had made plans to flee the city with all of the remnants of his kin. His cousins in Argos were willing to vouch for him to the rest of the city, for a marriage with one of their young men.
He was hesitant to marry off Euphrosyne again so soon but passing her over to Thaleia would make it seem that she was cursed or damaged goods and he had no desire to do such to his girl, not so soon after what she had gone through.
But looking at this confused bruin, built like a bull and covered in enough body-hair to look like some sort of partially shaved blond bear. Speaking gibberish that could make a Macedonian sound erudite.
The last twist of the knife came when the big man finally realized that he wasn't alone. He'd taken one look at the group staring at him and he'd squeaked like a girl getting spied on bathing and had clamped both of his hands over his groin and scampered behind another stone that had been sitting across the road in a sort of crab-like shuffle to prevent his backside from being exposed to the others. So on top of being an unintelligible barbarian, the stone-born man was also as self-concious as a young girl and felt compelled to hide himself like one.
Sighing Pankratios glanced up to the sky and muttered, "Anything else?" He knew he was being disrespectful, and after such a blatant sign of the gods was likely to see him punished, but at this point what else could they do they hadn't already done.
"Well, seems like that shepherd's words were true. Well met Pankratios, Tyrant of Olenus." A chill went up his spine as he heard an all too familiar voice.
Turning towards the voice, his brows furrowed when he spotted an all too familiar face. "Perseus, a pleasure to see you again." His voice was perfectly even as if he weren't seeing the heir of the Periclidae family. The young man who'd triggered the events that had resulted in his family's expulsion and the rise of Pankratios to becoming Tyrant of the city.
"Polite as ever Pankratios." The young man, armed in full war gear and mounted with several armed hoplites standing alongside him.
The young man pulled out his sword and aimed it under Pankratios's chin, pressing just hard enough to cause a slight trickle of blood to flow down his throat. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of doing this; ever since you drove our family from our home."
Pankratios, unable to help himself, replied, "Well few men would take kindly to a man raping the daughter of a priest of Poseidon in his own temple, regardless of his noble heritage."
That barb seemed to get under the young man's skin for his face flushed with emotion and he bore his teeth as he snarled, "And I've told you she enticed me. I had no more control over myself than Heracles did under Hera's madness."
"So the gods forced you to rape the virtuous daughter of an upstanding, pious and dedicated priest. Truly it must have been a monstrous crime Hilarion committed to infuriate the gods like that." Pankratios retorted in such a dry tone it could have dried up the Aegean.
"SHUT UP!" Perseus snarled, he pushed his sword harder, forcing Pankratios to back away from the blade. He'd touched a nerve there. Well, Perseus was never known for his calm temper, even if it's a cheap joy, at this point he'd take anything he could get.
"When you stand along the river Styx waiting for Charon, tell the other shades as you wait that it was Perseus who sent you there." The boy said as he drew back his sword.
"They'll wonder when he left the Elysian Fields."
"AAARGH! DIE YOU BASTARD!"
Pankratios closed his eyes, waiting for the death stroke when he heard a clanging sound, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground after falling from a height.
He cracked one eye open and saw that Perseus was on the ground, insensate with a large dent in the back of his helmet. Looking further away he saw that the giant had thrown the stone as he was in the middle of hurling another at Perseus's companions. Faster than the eye could follow the stone flew from the giant's hands and crashed into the face of one of the hoplites. The force of the impact actually bending the faceguard of the Corinthian style helm into the man's face. He went down without a sound, likely dead before he hit the ground.
The other two men, not lacking for courage, charged the big man in the hope of cutting him down before he could grab another stone.
One of the hoplites reached first and raised his arm for the strike. Faster than a striking snake the stone-born grabbed his attacker's arm and with a slight twist dislocated his arm, sending him to the ground howling in pain.
The other man made to stab with his sword only for the big man to grab his companion's shield by the rim and using it like a bludgeon smashed the final adversary only and over again like a carpenter pounding a protruding peg into its proper hole. Watching the demolition of the hoplites, Pankratios hadn't noticed Perseus was still alive and had vaulted onto his horse to flee his attackers.
"HEY GET BACK HERE YOU BASTARD!" The giant bellowed in his strange tongue and dashed after the galloping horse. To his amazement, the big man not only kept pace with the galloping horse but was gaining on it despite Perseus's more and more frantic urgings.
Right before he was about to pluck the man off his horse, the giant must have stepped on something sharp because he bellowed in pain as he misstepped and was sent tumbling to the ground in pain.
A few moments later Perseus disappeared over the horizon, likely scared out of a year of growth by his encounter with the big man who was currently picking himself up and dusting himself off. He looked at his surroundings one last time before reluctantly trudging back to the farm. His hands covering his groin again as he did so.
Pankratios nodded to himself and reaching into his horse's satchel, he called out the farmer who had been staring utterly stunned at what had transpired. "My apologies for the mess but I have one last task for you if you would be so kind."
Pulling out a bag of 20 drachmas' worth he tossed it to the farmer before mounting up. "See our new friend is dressed and clothed, and start teaching him Greek and proper behavior. I'll be bringing a scribe to polish what you'll give him and teach him his letters later on. Oh and could you deal with the bodies here, you can do with their arms and armor as you like."
The farmer glanced at the either dead or insensate men laying on the ground as well as their arms and armor, then to the second bag of silver. He licked his lips once then quickly grabbed the bag and after nodding he shouted orders to his son and slaves to deal with this mess.
Pankratios nodded once then began walking over to the big man and see if he could relay the new accommodations, food, clothing and shelter he'd procured for him. As he walked he thought out-loud, "...maybe Petros...."
Like and Replies are my life source which my muse relies on.
Periander blinked at the incomprehensible gibberish that had come out the big man's mouth. After Zeus's dramatic intervention to Pankratios's desperate plea, Periander would have thought that the gods would have at least made sure their man could speak proper Dorian or at least one of the other Hellene dialects.
Pankratios it seemed, was also less than impressed with the mute that was his supposed salvation for his city and himself if the dour look on his face was any sign. Not that Periander could blame him. Sure the man was big and impressive looking, but if he couldn't speak Greek than he was less than worthless in the long run save for being a slave.
********
Pankriatos would have started weeping if he'd been alone. He'd given a massive gift to the Oracle of Delphi for her advice and at the time he'd been given what seemed utter gibberish for an answer. But he'd done as the Oracle had commanded and what did he get? This overgrown savage that couldn't even speak Greek. The gods were obviously getting one last laugh in at his expense before his final ruin.
He'd been told to find a rock that looked like a cow and offer his blood to it while begging Zeus for a means to save his city, his life, and that of his remaining kin. He quickly fought down the image of all three of his sons' broken corpses in the wake of the last fight with Dyme. Telamon, his eldest, the golden boy and the pride of his father, strong in body and keen of mind. Ever ready to prove his valor for his city and his father. The twins Heraclide and Telemachus, the former with a voice that could rival Apollo's and Telemachus already showing potential for becoming an auger at such a young age. He'd been talking with the head priest for Olenus's temple to Poseidon to take his youngest boy on as a successor. But now that day would never come and his heart still ached at the memories that refused to go away.
After that catastrophe, both personal for himself and for the city, things had become worse. His brothers, who had helped support his take over of the city from those idiots from the Pericildae clan had died not long after one from illness, the other had gotten overly drunk and had tripped and broken his neck.
Then his nephews had followed, while none of them had quite the spark, at least in his opinion, as his own boys. They had been solid and loyal and could have been relied on to help him rule Olenus. Then they had been snatched away one after the other. The final straw being Xenophon's death when a boulder and rolled from seemingly nowhere and had crushed him. He'd been the first one there after he had been found and the sight of the last of his male kin's death had broken something in the normally stoic man.
He'd grapsed his nephew's hand, the one part of the youth that hadn't been crushed under the boulder and had wept like a child.
The next day he had sent a message to the Oracle of Delphi as what to do. Now that his male kin, save for a few distant cousins in Argos, were all dead many in the city saw him as cursed by the gods and murmurs began floating that maybe the exile of the Periclidae had been the cause of it.
If people were willing to contemplate inviting those bastards back to Dyme after what their leader's son Theophilus, had done, then things were truly becoming dire.
He cared little for his own life, after the death of his sons, brothers, and nephews, much of the fire had gone out of him. But his city was still under threat by Dyme's constant pressure and the looming doom of the return of the Periclidae forced him to continue. There were also his wife and daughters to look out for. His wife, Chara, her name a cruel jest if there ever was one, after her son's death the joyful woman he had married all those years ago was gone, in her place was a weeping wreck, a feminine weakness that he never condemned.
The only thing she still seemed to live for was their remaining daughters, Aglaia, the youngest, a little ray of sunshine, Thaleia, the graceful beauty, and his final heartache, Euphrosyne, her name another cruel jape. She'd been happily married less than a year ago with a child expected. Unfortunately, her husband had been lost at sea on a trading mission, the news had so shocked her that she had lost the child soon after.
Crushed she had been forced leave the home she had just started with her husband and had returned back to her father, to sit in the misery that permeated the house in the wake of the death of her brothers.
True they were mere girls, but dammit all they were his girls and after the loss of his sons, he'd give his life to keep them safe.
If this venture had failed he had made plans to flee the city with all of the remnants of his kin. His cousins in Argos were willing to vouch for him to the rest of the city, for a marriage with one of their young men.
He was hesitant to marry off Euphrosyne again so soon but passing her over to Thaleia would make it seem that she was cursed or damaged goods and he had no desire to do such to his girl, not so soon after what she had gone through.
But looking at this confused bruin, built like a bull and covered in enough body-hair to look like some sort of partially shaved blond bear. Speaking gibberish that could make a Macedonian sound erudite.
The last twist of the knife came when the big man finally realized that he wasn't alone. He'd taken one look at the group staring at him and he'd squeaked like a girl getting spied on bathing and had clamped both of his hands over his groin and scampered behind another stone that had been sitting across the road in a sort of crab-like shuffle to prevent his backside from being exposed to the others. So on top of being an unintelligible barbarian, the stone-born man was also as self-concious as a young girl and felt compelled to hide himself like one.
Sighing Pankratios glanced up to the sky and muttered, "Anything else?" He knew he was being disrespectful, and after such a blatant sign of the gods was likely to see him punished, but at this point what else could they do they hadn't already done.
"Well, seems like that shepherd's words were true. Well met Pankratios, Tyrant of Olenus." A chill went up his spine as he heard an all too familiar voice.
Turning towards the voice, his brows furrowed when he spotted an all too familiar face. "Perseus, a pleasure to see you again." His voice was perfectly even as if he weren't seeing the heir of the Periclidae family. The young man who'd triggered the events that had resulted in his family's expulsion and the rise of Pankratios to becoming Tyrant of the city.
"Polite as ever Pankratios." The young man, armed in full war gear and mounted with several armed hoplites standing alongside him.
The young man pulled out his sword and aimed it under Pankratios's chin, pressing just hard enough to cause a slight trickle of blood to flow down his throat. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of doing this; ever since you drove our family from our home."
Pankratios, unable to help himself, replied, "Well few men would take kindly to a man raping the daughter of a priest of Poseidon in his own temple, regardless of his noble heritage."
That barb seemed to get under the young man's skin for his face flushed with emotion and he bore his teeth as he snarled, "And I've told you she enticed me. I had no more control over myself than Heracles did under Hera's madness."
"So the gods forced you to rape the virtuous daughter of an upstanding, pious and dedicated priest. Truly it must have been a monstrous crime Hilarion committed to infuriate the gods like that." Pankratios retorted in such a dry tone it could have dried up the Aegean.
"SHUT UP!" Perseus snarled, he pushed his sword harder, forcing Pankratios to back away from the blade. He'd touched a nerve there. Well, Perseus was never known for his calm temper, even if it's a cheap joy, at this point he'd take anything he could get.
"When you stand along the river Styx waiting for Charon, tell the other shades as you wait that it was Perseus who sent you there." The boy said as he drew back his sword.
"They'll wonder when he left the Elysian Fields."
"AAARGH! DIE YOU BASTARD!"
Pankratios closed his eyes, waiting for the death stroke when he heard a clanging sound, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground after falling from a height.
He cracked one eye open and saw that Perseus was on the ground, insensate with a large dent in the back of his helmet. Looking further away he saw that the giant had thrown the stone as he was in the middle of hurling another at Perseus's companions. Faster than the eye could follow the stone flew from the giant's hands and crashed into the face of one of the hoplites. The force of the impact actually bending the faceguard of the Corinthian style helm into the man's face. He went down without a sound, likely dead before he hit the ground.
The other two men, not lacking for courage, charged the big man in the hope of cutting him down before he could grab another stone.
One of the hoplites reached first and raised his arm for the strike. Faster than a striking snake the stone-born grabbed his attacker's arm and with a slight twist dislocated his arm, sending him to the ground howling in pain.
The other man made to stab with his sword only for the big man to grab his companion's shield by the rim and using it like a bludgeon smashed the final adversary only and over again like a carpenter pounding a protruding peg into its proper hole. Watching the demolition of the hoplites, Pankratios hadn't noticed Perseus was still alive and had vaulted onto his horse to flee his attackers.
"HEY GET BACK HERE YOU BASTARD!" The giant bellowed in his strange tongue and dashed after the galloping horse. To his amazement, the big man not only kept pace with the galloping horse but was gaining on it despite Perseus's more and more frantic urgings.
Right before he was about to pluck the man off his horse, the giant must have stepped on something sharp because he bellowed in pain as he misstepped and was sent tumbling to the ground in pain.
A few moments later Perseus disappeared over the horizon, likely scared out of a year of growth by his encounter with the big man who was currently picking himself up and dusting himself off. He looked at his surroundings one last time before reluctantly trudging back to the farm. His hands covering his groin again as he did so.
Pankratios nodded to himself and reaching into his horse's satchel, he called out the farmer who had been staring utterly stunned at what had transpired. "My apologies for the mess but I have one last task for you if you would be so kind."
Pulling out a bag of 20 drachmas' worth he tossed it to the farmer before mounting up. "See our new friend is dressed and clothed, and start teaching him Greek and proper behavior. I'll be bringing a scribe to polish what you'll give him and teach him his letters later on. Oh and could you deal with the bodies here, you can do with their arms and armor as you like."
The farmer glanced at the either dead or insensate men laying on the ground as well as their arms and armor, then to the second bag of silver. He licked his lips once then quickly grabbed the bag and after nodding he shouted orders to his son and slaves to deal with this mess.
Pankratios nodded once then began walking over to the big man and see if he could relay the new accommodations, food, clothing and shelter he'd procured for him. As he walked he thought out-loud, "...maybe Petros...."
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