CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was an excellent portion! Some frank discussions were had I am glad Terpsichore is fleeing. This story never fails to be entertaining. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!
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Master of All Sorrows: Book Two of the Ellix Saga
- Thread starter ChrisGibson
- Start date
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Yes, Terpsichore was brave when it counted, but discretion is the better part of valor. Chiton has proved himself to be nobel, but he still lives with a lot of pain. We'll see what follows.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
AS WE CONCLUDE OUT CHAPTER, CHITON BIDS HIS SISTER GOODBYE AND HEADS FOR MAKADAKAN. MEANWHILE, ARCIS, ATTEMPTING TO ASSERT HIS POWER ENCOUNTERS THE WILES OF ALEXANDRA, AND IF LEFT IN CONFUSION
Charis thought she’d dreamed it as first, and when the wrapping at her window continued, she murmured go away a few times before climbing out of the thick covers of the bed, and peering through the slats. She opened the shutters and looked at her brother.
“What in the world?” she demanded.
“Don’t you ever put on clothes?” Chiton asked.
“Only when I have to,” Charis said, “and certainly not in my own chambers. Why are you standing at my window at this time of night?”
“I’m on my way out of town,” Chiton said, “and I wanted you to know that. I’ll be gone in the morning, and I’m leaving with the Princess Terpsichore.”
“What?”
“They’re trying to kill her. Arcis is in on the plot.”
“What?” Charis demanded, then said, “I need to stop saying what.”
“You need to put some clothes on.”
“I look wonderful naked,” Charis said.
She leaned over the sill, her chin resting on it.
“While Manaen is gone from the city, the Assembly—not everyone, but many people—plan to take the city over, and then set up a new king.”
“From who?”
“From one of the great families.”
“But there are over a hundred great families. That’s why Creon ruled for so long. There was no direct successor. It was too hard to determine who should be the next ruler.
“This is so stupid. Don’t they remember? It wasn’t that long ago when so many things happened. When this city was the God’s again, and we felt his presence and knew what he wanted. The rivers flowed with wine. Don’t they remember?”
“No,” Chiton said. “And the further off it is, the more I am forgetting too. The world was beautiful then, and for that moment I was better than I usually am.”
“Killing Terpsichore, Overthrowing…” Charis stopped talking for a moment. “This is all so foolish.”
“Yes,” Chiton said. “It is. Terpsichore is waiting in the garden, and I am on my way to Makadakan to join Maro and Pyrs.”
“Oh, I want to leave with you!”
“You can’t do that.”
“I know that!” Charis said. “That’s sort of what it means to be a woman. Wanting to do, and knowing you can’t.”
Chiton had nothing intelligent to say to this. He said, “Tell Mother I’ve gone to visit the children. Let that be what everyone thinks. No one can see any link between my absence and the Princess’s.”
Charis nodded.
“You keep an eye on things and watch after Clio.”
“I’ll be watching over a great many people it seems,” Charis murmured, glumly.
There was a knock on the door, and Alexandra called, “Come in.”
Her cousin Polydorus entered, tall as Mykon, but bearded and a little older, and beside him was her servant Nausa.
“You have a visitor, Alexandra, shall I stay?”
When Polydorus stepped aside, Alexandra saw that it was Arcis Cleomanes.
“No, no,” Alexandra said, “This is my father in law, let him in.
“I see that Creon had remained at home,” Alexandra said as Arcis entered the room. He was handsome and well muscled with a slightly bull like face, too blond, too much of that northern blood in him. But there was something, a very little something of Marophon in him too.
Polydorus nodded and said, “I will be down the hall.”
“Protective, isn’t he?” Arcis noted as Polydorus went down the hall.
“He has to be. He is my aunt’s oldest son, and as such my closest male kin in this city. He must guard my virtue. Now, Lord Arcis, how can I help you?”
Nausa closed the door behind them all and remained silent while Arcis said, “I requested your presence at my house.”
“And I did not come,” Alexandra said. “That would not have been guarding my virtue. If you would see me, you must come to me in the home of my family.”
“So it turns out you are an Anaxionade after all.”
“Oh, I am my father’s daughter,” she said. “Otherwise I’m a bastard. Certainly I am not a dog, and it would be unfit for you to summon me and I come running like one.”
The fair haired man turned to the servant girl and said, “Leave us, please.”
Nausa looked as if she had heard nothing and Alexandra laughed.
“Whose house are you in? Even the house you call your own is the house of my brother in law, though you are apt to forget this, and, much to his discredit, he lets you do so.
“Nausa,” she said to the woman, “give us a moment.”
The servant closed her hands, nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Alexandra rose from her seat.
“I do not trust you.” Arcis said.
“You do not trust me?” she said, “or you do not like me? Because I certainly do not like you and yet, I trust you to be exactly who you are. My father, on the other hand, I respect and fear but cannot trust because I never know what that snake is about.”
“My mind is not changed,” Arcis said. “Every reservation I had about letting another one of your family into our family remains, and I have to know…” Arcis frowned, his white blond brows knitting fiercely over his blue eyes, “I have to have something.”
“My word of trust?”
Arcis was still frowning, still confused.
“I am… uneasy about you,”
“Do you want me to beg?”
“There it is!” Arcis cried. “Something flippant, wicked… too old and twisted in a girl of thirteen.”
“You don’t know how to handle me. You are the type of man who wants to handle a woman. I imagine this is why you divorced your first two wives.”
Arcis opened his mouth, but Alexandra said, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t judge. Fine. You want me to beg. You want to know who I am. I will beg.”
She went to her knees.
“Stop that!” Arcis almost snarled.
“Please, Father!” she said in a seductive tone that made him sick, made him feel mocked. “Please, please forgive me for being so sullen and wicked. Please!”
“Stop that,” he said as she clung to his hips murmuring, “Please.”
“I’ll do better,” Alexandra promised him, her eyes wide with mock sorrow. “I swear it.”
“What are you…?” Arcis began.
But she had put her hands under his robe, and just like that, she had taken him in her mouth.
“What…?” he began, trembling, his eyes losing focus.
“What…?” he said again. “Please…” as his hands reached behind him, “Please don’t,.. Please stop.”
But in the silence of the room, under his robe, she did not stop, and he frowned, angry at himself, then placed his hands in his hair and closed his eyes turning his head to the ceiling and letting her hands run under his robes as her mouth did its work.
It was always like this with women. When he climbed back into the sedan and had his slaves take him back to the house, though he tried to maintain his cold exterior, he thought of why he had come to the house of the Anaxionade, and what a thirteen year old girl had made him do. In the end he had thought the only way to slake his need and regain his power was to rape her on the floor of the room. She had bled. She had been a virgin, but she had also been silent while he’d done it, and the whole time he was raping her he knew she was raping him, that she had planned this. That even while he pushed himself inside of her, and stopped himself from shouting while he came, she had defeated him. The moment of his orgasm was the moment of his disgrace.
After it was done, she pinned back her gowns, cool as anything. Arcis knew she had what she wanted. He felt the shame women always made him feel.
“You’ll have to,” Arcis said, “You’ll have to… see my son. You’ll have to...”
“You want me to start sleeping with Creon.”
“After this,” Arcis said, “you have to.”
“Yes. It would cover up any… evidence.”
“Will there be any evidence?”
“I’ve no idea,” Alexandra said, “but if I have a child it will be Cleomane. Yes, send Creon. Let him think he’s getting something over on me and my family. Something on you even.”
“You’re a wretched girl,” Arcis said.
“You’re a rapist,” Alexandra said. Then, at the look on his face. “Don’t you worry. I know exactly what I am. Yes. I’ll have Creon, but if you’re less than Maro and Chiton, he’s less than you. What if I want the father and the son together?”
Arcis had frowned on her.
“What are you asking?”
“You know what I’m asking.”
As Arcis straightened his robe and his mantle, as he smoothed his pale hair he said, “You’re a demon and I’m sorry for my son. I’ll never touch you again.”
“Um,” Alexandra nodded as Arcis was touching the door to leave. “Let’s not be so quick to say what we’ll do, and what we won’t.”
TOMORROW WE RETURN TO NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN
Charis thought she’d dreamed it as first, and when the wrapping at her window continued, she murmured go away a few times before climbing out of the thick covers of the bed, and peering through the slats. She opened the shutters and looked at her brother.
“What in the world?” she demanded.
“Don’t you ever put on clothes?” Chiton asked.
“Only when I have to,” Charis said, “and certainly not in my own chambers. Why are you standing at my window at this time of night?”
“I’m on my way out of town,” Chiton said, “and I wanted you to know that. I’ll be gone in the morning, and I’m leaving with the Princess Terpsichore.”
“What?”
“They’re trying to kill her. Arcis is in on the plot.”
“What?” Charis demanded, then said, “I need to stop saying what.”
“You need to put some clothes on.”
“I look wonderful naked,” Charis said.
She leaned over the sill, her chin resting on it.
“While Manaen is gone from the city, the Assembly—not everyone, but many people—plan to take the city over, and then set up a new king.”
“From who?”
“From one of the great families.”
“But there are over a hundred great families. That’s why Creon ruled for so long. There was no direct successor. It was too hard to determine who should be the next ruler.
“This is so stupid. Don’t they remember? It wasn’t that long ago when so many things happened. When this city was the God’s again, and we felt his presence and knew what he wanted. The rivers flowed with wine. Don’t they remember?”
“No,” Chiton said. “And the further off it is, the more I am forgetting too. The world was beautiful then, and for that moment I was better than I usually am.”
“Killing Terpsichore, Overthrowing…” Charis stopped talking for a moment. “This is all so foolish.”
“Yes,” Chiton said. “It is. Terpsichore is waiting in the garden, and I am on my way to Makadakan to join Maro and Pyrs.”
“Oh, I want to leave with you!”
“You can’t do that.”
“I know that!” Charis said. “That’s sort of what it means to be a woman. Wanting to do, and knowing you can’t.”
Chiton had nothing intelligent to say to this. He said, “Tell Mother I’ve gone to visit the children. Let that be what everyone thinks. No one can see any link between my absence and the Princess’s.”
Charis nodded.
“You keep an eye on things and watch after Clio.”
“I’ll be watching over a great many people it seems,” Charis murmured, glumly.
There was a knock on the door, and Alexandra called, “Come in.”
Her cousin Polydorus entered, tall as Mykon, but bearded and a little older, and beside him was her servant Nausa.
“You have a visitor, Alexandra, shall I stay?”
When Polydorus stepped aside, Alexandra saw that it was Arcis Cleomanes.
“No, no,” Alexandra said, “This is my father in law, let him in.
“I see that Creon had remained at home,” Alexandra said as Arcis entered the room. He was handsome and well muscled with a slightly bull like face, too blond, too much of that northern blood in him. But there was something, a very little something of Marophon in him too.
Polydorus nodded and said, “I will be down the hall.”
“Protective, isn’t he?” Arcis noted as Polydorus went down the hall.
“He has to be. He is my aunt’s oldest son, and as such my closest male kin in this city. He must guard my virtue. Now, Lord Arcis, how can I help you?”
Nausa closed the door behind them all and remained silent while Arcis said, “I requested your presence at my house.”
“And I did not come,” Alexandra said. “That would not have been guarding my virtue. If you would see me, you must come to me in the home of my family.”
“So it turns out you are an Anaxionade after all.”
“Oh, I am my father’s daughter,” she said. “Otherwise I’m a bastard. Certainly I am not a dog, and it would be unfit for you to summon me and I come running like one.”
The fair haired man turned to the servant girl and said, “Leave us, please.”
Nausa looked as if she had heard nothing and Alexandra laughed.
“Whose house are you in? Even the house you call your own is the house of my brother in law, though you are apt to forget this, and, much to his discredit, he lets you do so.
“Nausa,” she said to the woman, “give us a moment.”
The servant closed her hands, nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Alexandra rose from her seat.
“I do not trust you.” Arcis said.
“You do not trust me?” she said, “or you do not like me? Because I certainly do not like you and yet, I trust you to be exactly who you are. My father, on the other hand, I respect and fear but cannot trust because I never know what that snake is about.”
“My mind is not changed,” Arcis said. “Every reservation I had about letting another one of your family into our family remains, and I have to know…” Arcis frowned, his white blond brows knitting fiercely over his blue eyes, “I have to have something.”
“My word of trust?”
Arcis was still frowning, still confused.
“I am… uneasy about you,”
“Do you want me to beg?”
“There it is!” Arcis cried. “Something flippant, wicked… too old and twisted in a girl of thirteen.”
“You don’t know how to handle me. You are the type of man who wants to handle a woman. I imagine this is why you divorced your first two wives.”
Arcis opened his mouth, but Alexandra said, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t judge. Fine. You want me to beg. You want to know who I am. I will beg.”
She went to her knees.
“Stop that!” Arcis almost snarled.
“Please, Father!” she said in a seductive tone that made him sick, made him feel mocked. “Please, please forgive me for being so sullen and wicked. Please!”
“Stop that,” he said as she clung to his hips murmuring, “Please.”
“I’ll do better,” Alexandra promised him, her eyes wide with mock sorrow. “I swear it.”
“What are you…?” Arcis began.
But she had put her hands under his robe, and just like that, she had taken him in her mouth.
“What…?” he began, trembling, his eyes losing focus.
“What…?” he said again. “Please…” as his hands reached behind him, “Please don’t,.. Please stop.”
But in the silence of the room, under his robe, she did not stop, and he frowned, angry at himself, then placed his hands in his hair and closed his eyes turning his head to the ceiling and letting her hands run under his robes as her mouth did its work.
It was always like this with women. When he climbed back into the sedan and had his slaves take him back to the house, though he tried to maintain his cold exterior, he thought of why he had come to the house of the Anaxionade, and what a thirteen year old girl had made him do. In the end he had thought the only way to slake his need and regain his power was to rape her on the floor of the room. She had bled. She had been a virgin, but she had also been silent while he’d done it, and the whole time he was raping her he knew she was raping him, that she had planned this. That even while he pushed himself inside of her, and stopped himself from shouting while he came, she had defeated him. The moment of his orgasm was the moment of his disgrace.
After it was done, she pinned back her gowns, cool as anything. Arcis knew she had what she wanted. He felt the shame women always made him feel.
“You’ll have to,” Arcis said, “You’ll have to… see my son. You’ll have to...”
“You want me to start sleeping with Creon.”
“After this,” Arcis said, “you have to.”
“Yes. It would cover up any… evidence.”
“Will there be any evidence?”
“I’ve no idea,” Alexandra said, “but if I have a child it will be Cleomane. Yes, send Creon. Let him think he’s getting something over on me and my family. Something on you even.”
“You’re a wretched girl,” Arcis said.
“You’re a rapist,” Alexandra said. Then, at the look on his face. “Don’t you worry. I know exactly what I am. Yes. I’ll have Creon, but if you’re less than Maro and Chiton, he’s less than you. What if I want the father and the son together?”
Arcis had frowned on her.
“What are you asking?”
“You know what I’m asking.”
As Arcis straightened his robe and his mantle, as he smoothed his pale hair he said, “You’re a demon and I’m sorry for my son. I’ll never touch you again.”
“Um,” Alexandra nodded as Arcis was touching the door to leave. “Let’s not be so quick to say what we’ll do, and what we won’t.”
TOMORROW WE RETURN TO NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
Wow you were right, that was a wild end to the chapter! Archie got what he wanted from Alexandra no matter what the consequences and the fact that it was rape. Meanwhile others have escaped and are on their way to Makadakan. Great writing and I look forward to Nights In White Satin tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Yes, Chiton and Terpsichore are off in the night. Charis is tasked with watching over things, and Arcis seems to be in over his head. Rape was not his intention when he went over to Manaen's house, and Alexandra seems to know exactly what she's doing.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
LAST TIME WE WERE TOGETHER, ALEXANDRA PLOTTED FOR CONTROL, BUT SEDUCING MARO'S TREACHEROUS BROTHER ARCIS WHILE MAROPHON'S OTHER BROTHER, CHITON, SPIRITED PRINCESS TERPSICHORE OUT OF THEBES. NOW, AKXA AND THE AMAZONS COME TOGETHER TO AID HARMONIA IN HER TAKE BACK OF THEBES AND MAROPHON AND JOCASTA DISCUSS THEIR LOVE....
What is strong in one season is fragile in the next. That which tramples is in time trampled. This is a secret men have never understood. This is the secret of a woman’s power.
-Phocis Heklade
CHAPTER TWENTY
PRINCESS
Πριγκίπισσα
“IT ISN’T MUCH,” Queen Xanthe said, “but it’s something.”
“Two legions of Amazons is more than something,” Harmonia said.
“When you come to Makadakan with them behind you, they will know you are allied to Xanthe,” the Queen told Harmonia. “They will be, if we had such a thing, like a dowry to the Autarch Mykon.”
“Only we will not be a dowry,” Niobe said beside Aramache, “or, at least, not in the sense of a man giving another man a bride price. We will be a dowry in the old fashioned way, as when lovers gave pledges of love one to the other. This will be your pledge to Mykon Anaxionade to make a new world with him, for he seems the sort of man who wants to make a new world.”
“I feel like I have never really known much of men,” Harmonia said. “and everything you’ve taught me sense I’ve come here has been a bad thing.”
“It is only a warning,” Xanthe said. “What did you think of my city, the first time you saw it?”
“I was surprised,” Harmonia said. “The truth is I did not know what to expect it.” And then she said, “No, I expected savagery. What that meant, though, I could not say. Women walking around in animal skins.”
The women around her laughed, “Women living in the trees. Men as slaves. But, these are the tales made in Attika, a place that loves to make up tales.
“I saw the great stone buildings, the temples, the agoras and bazaars. The rich clothing. Women could be beautiful and glamorous if they wanted, not because they had to be. Soldier women, ruling women, women generals, women in the great Assembly. Women loving women. And…” she turned to Basil. “I saw men. I was so surprised to see so many men content to live under the rule of women. And then I learned that save the Queen and most of the army, the men rule beside the women and much foolishness had been made of the way the Amazon live.”
“Once upon a time we were like any tribal people,” Xanthe said, “and in ancient times we lived north of Phrygia, east of the Friendly Sea, on the plains of the long mountains. Some of us, they say, still live there.”
“By the time of the Great War of Illium, we lived on the plains north of Phrygia and fought your ancestors, working alongside Illium. For a long time we fought the Ellixians, and five ships of Tiryns men and Attikan men carried us off. Our ancestresses under Hippolyta waited till they were out to sea and then killed the crew, tossing their bodies over the sides of the ship. This was how we learned shipping and sailed to Akxa and from Akxa we began to make contact with the old kingdom of Argo and Maesa. This was the land ruled by the Danaids, the descendants of the fifty sisters who had killed the husbands who wanted to abduct them and ruins their lives. We intermarried with them, and established a new home from which we would ride out and free oppressed women, making ourselves known to all women, and even to the men who wished to join us.
“How could we keep alive without men?” Niobe said.
“We learned the womens’ arts, priestcraft, war and witchcraft. The women from Maesa and the Bee Priestesses,” Niobe nodded to Aramache the daughter of Melissa, “taught us. By our magic and by our battle skill we carved out a land for ourselves, and for all who wished to live as we do.”
“But,” Xanthe the Queen said, glorious in her golden headdress, her golden breastplate over her long white gown, spear in her hand, “it is time that glory leave this secluded place and go out into the world of men. Too long has it been hidden, been the stuff of rumor, the power of the Goddess, preserved in whole here, must return to the world of the gods. The Great Goddess must join the Wild God who also has been exiled.”
“The Wanderer must join the wandering,” Aramache intoned, “and the Exile end.”
Akxa was a land of cities and farms, far different than the forest retreat Harmonia had first imagined. It rose high over the sea so that, descending from into Thessaly, was a long, low business. It was days before they left the last town to see the sky and the low green land stretching ahead of them. Now they could see the mountains lining the horizon, the highest of them, Mount Orthys, home of the Twelve, was to the south, its peak lost in clouds. No matter what the women of Akxa said, and no matter what she might privately believed, she bowed her head with reverence, and made the sign against evil as she gazed upon the Gods’ home. Beside Harmonia, Aeon said, “On the other side of those hills is Makadakan, where you will meet the Autarch. How do you feel?”
Harmonia looked around her. Basil rode beside her, along with Aramache and Niobe. But behind her were, armed and carrying swords, two thousand Amazons.
She said, “In truth? I’m not entirely sure.”
“When I thought of marrying you,” Jocasta said as they lay in bed together, “I said it was because I wanted my freedom, and because I wanted someone who would understand that. It all seemed very politic. But then, as time went by, as we came closer to the marriage and the wedding night, I began to know that I wanted you, that I was falling in love with you, longing for that wedding night.”
“And then when the wedding night came?” Marophon gave her a half smile, touching her arm.
“I asked Mykon if you would be a kind lover, a tender lover,” Jocasta said. She said nothing else. She kissed Marophon’s arm.
“I didn’t know we would love each other,” she said, at last. “I know I loved you as family, as a father figure of sorts. I did not know I would love you as my husband. Or you love me as wife.”
“This last year has been one of the gladdest of my life,” Marophon gathered Jocasta to him. “The wedding night, do you remember that, not waking up until the day was far gone, and there was no one in the room, not even servants? We discovered the lines and curves of each other. The sighs, the laughter, the recognition.”
“How shy you were!”
“And how shy you were too!” Marophon countered. “And then, how shy you were not in the heat of desire, my wife.
“And then the children. You cannot imagine how afraid I was,” Marophon said.
“Had you known they would be twins...”
“Gods!” Marophon trembled, his body tensing with a distant memory.
“I was afraid too,” Jocasta said. “And more afraid of leaving you a widow, and in despair than of my own death. But the Goddess of Death came to me, and then she became the Goddess of Life. She told me to live, and so I did. And now I am not afraid to have a child again.”
“You really never have to have a child again,” Marophon said. “The babies are healthy, and I am not the sort of man who prizes his own legacy so much he would endanger his wife.”
“No, I will have children again. Not today, not any time soon. But there will be more children. We may have a tribe! Your other siblings have had so many children. We must establish ourselves.”
Marophon pulled Jocasta to him, and running his hands over her back he said, “Let’s not talk of establish our tribe. Let’s think about what we have to do in order to preserve the blessed family we have right now.”
“Planning,” Jocasta began, and then, when Maro began kissing her up and down her neck, she said, “Oh…”
Everytime Marophon took her in his arms, she wondered briefly if he was like this with her father, or with her brother. No, but she had learned this from Theon, all lovemaking was different. Every lover changed things.
After they had made love, Jocasta rolled herself over Marophon, looking down at him while she ran her hands through his hair and he smiled up at her.
“What shall we encounter when we meet this King of Makadakan and his princess?”
Marophon hummed low in his throat, satisfied after sex, He placed his hands behind his head on the pillow
“Who can say, wife? Who can say?”
What is strong in one season is fragile in the next. That which tramples is in time trampled. This is a secret men have never understood. This is the secret of a woman’s power.
-Phocis Heklade
CHAPTER TWENTY
PRINCESS
Πριγκίπισσα
“IT ISN’T MUCH,” Queen Xanthe said, “but it’s something.”
“Two legions of Amazons is more than something,” Harmonia said.
“When you come to Makadakan with them behind you, they will know you are allied to Xanthe,” the Queen told Harmonia. “They will be, if we had such a thing, like a dowry to the Autarch Mykon.”
“Only we will not be a dowry,” Niobe said beside Aramache, “or, at least, not in the sense of a man giving another man a bride price. We will be a dowry in the old fashioned way, as when lovers gave pledges of love one to the other. This will be your pledge to Mykon Anaxionade to make a new world with him, for he seems the sort of man who wants to make a new world.”
“I feel like I have never really known much of men,” Harmonia said. “and everything you’ve taught me sense I’ve come here has been a bad thing.”
“It is only a warning,” Xanthe said. “What did you think of my city, the first time you saw it?”
“I was surprised,” Harmonia said. “The truth is I did not know what to expect it.” And then she said, “No, I expected savagery. What that meant, though, I could not say. Women walking around in animal skins.”
The women around her laughed, “Women living in the trees. Men as slaves. But, these are the tales made in Attika, a place that loves to make up tales.
“I saw the great stone buildings, the temples, the agoras and bazaars. The rich clothing. Women could be beautiful and glamorous if they wanted, not because they had to be. Soldier women, ruling women, women generals, women in the great Assembly. Women loving women. And…” she turned to Basil. “I saw men. I was so surprised to see so many men content to live under the rule of women. And then I learned that save the Queen and most of the army, the men rule beside the women and much foolishness had been made of the way the Amazon live.”
“Once upon a time we were like any tribal people,” Xanthe said, “and in ancient times we lived north of Phrygia, east of the Friendly Sea, on the plains of the long mountains. Some of us, they say, still live there.”
“By the time of the Great War of Illium, we lived on the plains north of Phrygia and fought your ancestors, working alongside Illium. For a long time we fought the Ellixians, and five ships of Tiryns men and Attikan men carried us off. Our ancestresses under Hippolyta waited till they were out to sea and then killed the crew, tossing their bodies over the sides of the ship. This was how we learned shipping and sailed to Akxa and from Akxa we began to make contact with the old kingdom of Argo and Maesa. This was the land ruled by the Danaids, the descendants of the fifty sisters who had killed the husbands who wanted to abduct them and ruins their lives. We intermarried with them, and established a new home from which we would ride out and free oppressed women, making ourselves known to all women, and even to the men who wished to join us.
“How could we keep alive without men?” Niobe said.
“We learned the womens’ arts, priestcraft, war and witchcraft. The women from Maesa and the Bee Priestesses,” Niobe nodded to Aramache the daughter of Melissa, “taught us. By our magic and by our battle skill we carved out a land for ourselves, and for all who wished to live as we do.”
“But,” Xanthe the Queen said, glorious in her golden headdress, her golden breastplate over her long white gown, spear in her hand, “it is time that glory leave this secluded place and go out into the world of men. Too long has it been hidden, been the stuff of rumor, the power of the Goddess, preserved in whole here, must return to the world of the gods. The Great Goddess must join the Wild God who also has been exiled.”
“The Wanderer must join the wandering,” Aramache intoned, “and the Exile end.”
Akxa was a land of cities and farms, far different than the forest retreat Harmonia had first imagined. It rose high over the sea so that, descending from into Thessaly, was a long, low business. It was days before they left the last town to see the sky and the low green land stretching ahead of them. Now they could see the mountains lining the horizon, the highest of them, Mount Orthys, home of the Twelve, was to the south, its peak lost in clouds. No matter what the women of Akxa said, and no matter what she might privately believed, she bowed her head with reverence, and made the sign against evil as she gazed upon the Gods’ home. Beside Harmonia, Aeon said, “On the other side of those hills is Makadakan, where you will meet the Autarch. How do you feel?”
Harmonia looked around her. Basil rode beside her, along with Aramache and Niobe. But behind her were, armed and carrying swords, two thousand Amazons.
She said, “In truth? I’m not entirely sure.”
“When I thought of marrying you,” Jocasta said as they lay in bed together, “I said it was because I wanted my freedom, and because I wanted someone who would understand that. It all seemed very politic. But then, as time went by, as we came closer to the marriage and the wedding night, I began to know that I wanted you, that I was falling in love with you, longing for that wedding night.”
“And then when the wedding night came?” Marophon gave her a half smile, touching her arm.
“I asked Mykon if you would be a kind lover, a tender lover,” Jocasta said. She said nothing else. She kissed Marophon’s arm.
“I didn’t know we would love each other,” she said, at last. “I know I loved you as family, as a father figure of sorts. I did not know I would love you as my husband. Or you love me as wife.”
“This last year has been one of the gladdest of my life,” Marophon gathered Jocasta to him. “The wedding night, do you remember that, not waking up until the day was far gone, and there was no one in the room, not even servants? We discovered the lines and curves of each other. The sighs, the laughter, the recognition.”
“How shy you were!”
“And how shy you were too!” Marophon countered. “And then, how shy you were not in the heat of desire, my wife.
“And then the children. You cannot imagine how afraid I was,” Marophon said.
“Had you known they would be twins...”
“Gods!” Marophon trembled, his body tensing with a distant memory.
“I was afraid too,” Jocasta said. “And more afraid of leaving you a widow, and in despair than of my own death. But the Goddess of Death came to me, and then she became the Goddess of Life. She told me to live, and so I did. And now I am not afraid to have a child again.”
“You really never have to have a child again,” Marophon said. “The babies are healthy, and I am not the sort of man who prizes his own legacy so much he would endanger his wife.”
“No, I will have children again. Not today, not any time soon. But there will be more children. We may have a tribe! Your other siblings have had so many children. We must establish ourselves.”
Marophon pulled Jocasta to him, and running his hands over her back he said, “Let’s not talk of establish our tribe. Let’s think about what we have to do in order to preserve the blessed family we have right now.”
“Planning,” Jocasta began, and then, when Maro began kissing her up and down her neck, she said, “Oh…”
Everytime Marophon took her in his arms, she wondered briefly if he was like this with her father, or with her brother. No, but she had learned this from Theon, all lovemaking was different. Every lover changed things.
After they had made love, Jocasta rolled herself over Marophon, looking down at him while she ran her hands through his hair and he smiled up at her.
“What shall we encounter when we meet this King of Makadakan and his princess?”
Marophon hummed low in his throat, satisfied after sex, He placed his hands behind his head on the pillow
“Who can say, wife? Who can say?”
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
“We can’t ignore it,” Lysander decided. “If that trumpet is sounding, we need to be at the Cadmea to hear what’s about to be said.”
“If that trumpet is sounding,” Clio returned, “we should already know what is being said.”
“They lived in the Magaion, midway between the home of the Anaxionade and the old neighborhoods that surrounded the Citadel. Clio had thought to send a message to her father or brother. She thought how she hated being in the city when her mother and Manaen and Jocasta were gone. She and Lysander left the children with Hykale, and rode on to the square beneath the Cadmea that was filling up with visitors.
“Polydorus! Polydorus!” Clio called to her brother. He was standing with Alexandra and her maid, and they had apparently been here for a while. Cyron was with her father, who saw them and came closer. As the trumpets blew, and the men came out of the Hall of Assembly, Clio saw Charis coming with her older sister, Xenia. Xenia was flanked by her two sons, Marophon’s nephews, who had grown up with Lysander. Now she felt a little better, a little safer, though she wondered why she should feel unsafe at all.
“People!” Xeno cried out from the Hall steps, “my great people. A new day is upon us. The peace that has so suddenly been thrust upon us when our Autarch came to power is at an end, and a new ruler for Thebes must be found.”
“Pyramus and Mykon are our leaders!” someone shouted out clearly.
“Pyramus and Mykon, and their armies have been gone several months. They have abandoned the city to conquer Makadakan, and meanwhile something must be done here.”
“We wait! We wait!” People called out. “We wait for the return of Pyramus and Mykon.”
“Manaen will return in a number of days.”
“Is Manaen our king? Are the Anaxionade our rulers”
“Let us to turn to the Priestess!” some demanded. “Let us regard the Lady Clio!” s
“Yes, Priestess, tell us! Tell us!”
They did not know where she was right away, standing beside her husband holding a horse’s bridle. But now several turned in her direction, and as the crowd turned, the councilor Xenophon cried out, “Why must we consult the priestess as if we were throwing oracle bones? Why do we not turn to one of the leading members of our Assembly. Why do we not turn to the sane a reasonable advice of Arcis Cleomanes?”
“Oh, shit!” Charis murmured.
“Cleomanes!” People called out. “Cleomanes! Cleomanes!”
But Arcis seemed, to Clio, in his glory, and Lysander crossed his arms over his chest declaringa, “He’s engineered all this.”
One of Xenia’s sons, Perses said, “Of course he has,” but on the porch of the Hall of Assembly, Arcis, face serene, spread his hands out for quiet.
“My people: I propose we find a new king and bring this uneasy autocracy to an end. The Assembly must come together, as it was preparing to do before the Anaxionade witchcraft usurped reason, and find a new ruler.”
“But we have a ruler!” Cyron cried out, and Clio was surprised.
Lysander called out, “The Princess Terpsichore is in the Cadmea, keeping the palace for her niece!”
Clio had seen the change on Cyron’s face and wanted to ask what that meant, but just then, solemnly, Arcis opened up the basket before him and,like Perseus with the Medusa, held out by a train of long hair, the bloody head of a dead woman.
As the crowd screamed, and terror went through the agora, Arcis intoned, “We no longer have a Princess, and we certainly have no Queen. Terpsichore, the daughter and sister of the late King Oepidus is, by foul play, dead.”
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“If that trumpet is sounding,” Clio returned, “we should already know what is being said.”
“They lived in the Magaion, midway between the home of the Anaxionade and the old neighborhoods that surrounded the Citadel. Clio had thought to send a message to her father or brother. She thought how she hated being in the city when her mother and Manaen and Jocasta were gone. She and Lysander left the children with Hykale, and rode on to the square beneath the Cadmea that was filling up with visitors.
“Polydorus! Polydorus!” Clio called to her brother. He was standing with Alexandra and her maid, and they had apparently been here for a while. Cyron was with her father, who saw them and came closer. As the trumpets blew, and the men came out of the Hall of Assembly, Clio saw Charis coming with her older sister, Xenia. Xenia was flanked by her two sons, Marophon’s nephews, who had grown up with Lysander. Now she felt a little better, a little safer, though she wondered why she should feel unsafe at all.
“People!” Xeno cried out from the Hall steps, “my great people. A new day is upon us. The peace that has so suddenly been thrust upon us when our Autarch came to power is at an end, and a new ruler for Thebes must be found.”
“Pyramus and Mykon are our leaders!” someone shouted out clearly.
“Pyramus and Mykon, and their armies have been gone several months. They have abandoned the city to conquer Makadakan, and meanwhile something must be done here.”
“We wait! We wait!” People called out. “We wait for the return of Pyramus and Mykon.”
“Manaen will return in a number of days.”
“Is Manaen our king? Are the Anaxionade our rulers”
“Let us to turn to the Priestess!” some demanded. “Let us regard the Lady Clio!” s
“Yes, Priestess, tell us! Tell us!”
They did not know where she was right away, standing beside her husband holding a horse’s bridle. But now several turned in her direction, and as the crowd turned, the councilor Xenophon cried out, “Why must we consult the priestess as if we were throwing oracle bones? Why do we not turn to one of the leading members of our Assembly. Why do we not turn to the sane a reasonable advice of Arcis Cleomanes?”
“Oh, shit!” Charis murmured.
“Cleomanes!” People called out. “Cleomanes! Cleomanes!”
But Arcis seemed, to Clio, in his glory, and Lysander crossed his arms over his chest declaringa, “He’s engineered all this.”
One of Xenia’s sons, Perses said, “Of course he has,” but on the porch of the Hall of Assembly, Arcis, face serene, spread his hands out for quiet.
“My people: I propose we find a new king and bring this uneasy autocracy to an end. The Assembly must come together, as it was preparing to do before the Anaxionade witchcraft usurped reason, and find a new ruler.”
“But we have a ruler!” Cyron cried out, and Clio was surprised.
Lysander called out, “The Princess Terpsichore is in the Cadmea, keeping the palace for her niece!”
Clio had seen the change on Cyron’s face and wanted to ask what that meant, but just then, solemnly, Arcis opened up the basket before him and,like Perseus with the Medusa, held out by a train of long hair, the bloody head of a dead woman.
As the crowd screamed, and terror went through the agora, Arcis intoned, “We no longer have a Princess, and we certainly have no Queen. Terpsichore, the daughter and sister of the late King Oepidus is, by foul play, dead.”
MORE TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
It is great to get back to this story! Things are certainly progressing on all fronts and Terpsichore has been declared dead even though she isn’t. I am so glad she escaped. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
It was good to get back here. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I worried a little that so much time had passed it might be hard to remember what was going on
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
WHILE MYKON MEETS WITH THE KING OF MAKADAKAN, ALEXANDRA SEDUCES CREON THE SAME WAY SHE DID HIS FATHER
“Your Serenity,” Mykon inclined his head, “We are pleased to finally meet you.”
Eurystheos King of Makadakan gestured to the young woman at his side and said, “This is my daughter, the Princess Herse.”
She was dark haired, golden eyed and lovely, gold beads strung in her hair, and she bowed slightly.
“This is the General Pyramus and the senior General Marophon,”
“Your reputation proceeds you,” the King said.
“And you must be the Lord Manaen,” King Eurystheos said.
“My King,” Manaen bowed, from where he stood behind Pyramus,” I am flattered that you would know me. I am nothing in all of this. I had come only to see my daughter—”
“The Lady Jocasta,” Herse spoke.
“Yes,” Manaen said, “to see her while she gave birth to her first child.”
“Which turned out to be children. Solicitations,” the Princess said. “And may we come into some peaceful agreement on our meeting here.”
Jocasta was surprised that the King had brought his daughter into the council room. Refreshments were brought in and the court functionaries were put out. Jocasta admired him for this, though, and between her brother and her husband she thought, “Maybe this man is not unlike us.” When she nodded to the princess, she thought, “I like her.”
“You know our history in the north is not as yours,” Princess Herse said. “We were scattered for years. We never had a great city. We never worshiped the Twelve, even though the people of Attika, Phocia and Evio said they lived on the top of Mount Orthys. And then the Illyrians came, and they were conquerors, but they gave us order as well. We have a long allegiance to them, and what is more, a long history of war with you. We are, you see,” she said to Marophon, “at war with you even now.”
Marophon’s brow knit. He nodded frequently, then said, “Princess, we cannot have you become a province of Illyria again. The entire high north cannot be allowed to unify against Ellix and the South. Illyria wants to reclaim its empire, and the first step to it is King Philip’s son marrying you and making you his eventual queen.”
“Yes, if you know it I know it, General,” the Princess said while the King looked on his daughter with admiration. “But do you have a better offer for us. For me.”
Jocasta noticed the way the King looked at his daughter, and while Marophon said, “I’m sure we can come to some agreement,” Jocasta said, “Your Highness, I need to speak with my brother. Our discussion will not be private for very long, I promise.”
The King looked at her, measuring this woman, and then said, “Of course, Lady Jocasta.”
While they left the room, Manaen looked after his children, and then looking at Marophon, shrugged. They were gone only a moment when Mykon returned to the room.
“My sister has proposed an idea, and so my sister should speak it.”
“Everything that has been said about your people is true,” The King said, “Unlike many in the south, in Makadakan we revere our women.”
“I noticed this,” Jocasta said. “I notice how you bring the Princess Herse into your councils. You regard your daughter as my father has regarded me, as my brother regarded me when he taught me use of the sword and shield at the age of eleven. When I married my husband, my first and last concern was that he was a man who would honor my mind and allow my independence. The Princess Herse is your only heir, the future of Makadakan. Illyria is your ancient ally. I know this. But I also believe that one reason for your alliance is because we in the south have so often come against you as enemies. I cannot imagine, though, that Philip of Illyria would be content to have his future queen independent. She would have to be a wife, and Makadakan would be her dowry. All you have made of this land would be, in the end, absorbed into Illyria, and this time forever.
“My brother had come to offer what we imagined most princesses would want, his hand in marriage, marriage to the Autarch of Phocia, a title we all know is currently temporary. Between Mykon and Illyria, how could you choose Mykon? But what of the protection of Phocia, Evio and Attika, so that you, King Eurystheos, might maintain your autonomy and so that your kingdom remains intact for your daughter to rule as queen in right, choosing her own lord if she choose any, this land not being absorbed?”
“But how?” Princess Herse demanded, though her face betrayed she wished for to believe them.
“The troops, which are now here to guard the interest of Phocia, will be your troops, for your protection,” Pyramus spoke now. “We will be allies in truth. They will know that to fight you they must fight us. You will not be a buffer. Our soldiers will pledge ourselves to you, the same as would have been done if Mykon had married you.”
“Only I will not be marrying you,” Mykon said. “You will continue under your father, ruling the land you were born to rule.”
King Eurystheos looked to his daughter, and she was nodding, quiet.
“It all sounds perfect,” the princess said. “But it would be foolish to say yes to anything immediately. I must think on this.”
Marophon and Pyramus nodded. Mykon prepared to speak, but the Princess raised a finger.
“Especially,” she continued, “since we would be a buffer between you and Illyria. There is no way around that, and you would think us fools to believe otherwise.”
“The Princess is wise.”
It was Manaen who spoke, moving forward.
“Of course,” he continued, “to be a buffer, one must be strong, and if it were in the interest of all of Ellix to make Dakan a strong state, who much the better for you. If the Princess—and her father—are wise, then they know this too.”
“True, Lord Manaen,” Princess Herse nodded, folding her hands behind her back. “And I will think on this as well.”
Manaen nodded in return and said, “Yes, Lady. But don’t think too long.”
“How do you like it?” he growled.
“How do you like it? You like it, don’t you?” Creon demanded as he fucked Alexandra in the upstairs room of the almost empty house.
“Can you take it? Can you take it? Can you take all of… me… inside you?”
She did not have to pretend to enjoy it, or to feel him. Her crying out was not pretended. She did wish he would talk a little less, though.
“Look at me!” he demanded almost desperately. “Look in my eyes. Let’s look at each other,” he panted, bending down to kiss her, to pull on her lips, thrust his tongue into her mouth. He went nearly to hands and knees, gathering her up, and she gave in to the feeling and forgot how little she liked him. There was only how good his body felt, young and a bit thin, a bit glossed with sweat. His big nose, his slightly pocked face, made him look rough and she buried her hands in his thick curling brown hair.
“I’m going to,” he began. “I’m going to… Fill you. I’m going to fill you up…with… my…”
But as he thrust harder, suddenly his eyes rolled back, and then that thing happened that happened to men, that had happened to Arcis when he had thought he was taking his revenge and ended up leaving the house ashamed. Creon’s body lost control. He went still. He was like someone seized, and his face was tender, almost frightened, as he shook between clenched teeth and pleaded, “Look…. at… me.”
She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see this vulnerability and then, as if the god had had his way with him and wrung him out, slowly, Creon lay down across her, and then collapsed, still inside of her.
“I’m coming inside of you,” he said, his body giving little tremors. “I’m still coming.”
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“Your Serenity,” Mykon inclined his head, “We are pleased to finally meet you.”
Eurystheos King of Makadakan gestured to the young woman at his side and said, “This is my daughter, the Princess Herse.”
She was dark haired, golden eyed and lovely, gold beads strung in her hair, and she bowed slightly.
“This is the General Pyramus and the senior General Marophon,”
“Your reputation proceeds you,” the King said.
“And you must be the Lord Manaen,” King Eurystheos said.
“My King,” Manaen bowed, from where he stood behind Pyramus,” I am flattered that you would know me. I am nothing in all of this. I had come only to see my daughter—”
“The Lady Jocasta,” Herse spoke.
“Yes,” Manaen said, “to see her while she gave birth to her first child.”
“Which turned out to be children. Solicitations,” the Princess said. “And may we come into some peaceful agreement on our meeting here.”
Jocasta was surprised that the King had brought his daughter into the council room. Refreshments were brought in and the court functionaries were put out. Jocasta admired him for this, though, and between her brother and her husband she thought, “Maybe this man is not unlike us.” When she nodded to the princess, she thought, “I like her.”
“You know our history in the north is not as yours,” Princess Herse said. “We were scattered for years. We never had a great city. We never worshiped the Twelve, even though the people of Attika, Phocia and Evio said they lived on the top of Mount Orthys. And then the Illyrians came, and they were conquerors, but they gave us order as well. We have a long allegiance to them, and what is more, a long history of war with you. We are, you see,” she said to Marophon, “at war with you even now.”
Marophon’s brow knit. He nodded frequently, then said, “Princess, we cannot have you become a province of Illyria again. The entire high north cannot be allowed to unify against Ellix and the South. Illyria wants to reclaim its empire, and the first step to it is King Philip’s son marrying you and making you his eventual queen.”
“Yes, if you know it I know it, General,” the Princess said while the King looked on his daughter with admiration. “But do you have a better offer for us. For me.”
Jocasta noticed the way the King looked at his daughter, and while Marophon said, “I’m sure we can come to some agreement,” Jocasta said, “Your Highness, I need to speak with my brother. Our discussion will not be private for very long, I promise.”
The King looked at her, measuring this woman, and then said, “Of course, Lady Jocasta.”
While they left the room, Manaen looked after his children, and then looking at Marophon, shrugged. They were gone only a moment when Mykon returned to the room.
“My sister has proposed an idea, and so my sister should speak it.”
“Everything that has been said about your people is true,” The King said, “Unlike many in the south, in Makadakan we revere our women.”
“I noticed this,” Jocasta said. “I notice how you bring the Princess Herse into your councils. You regard your daughter as my father has regarded me, as my brother regarded me when he taught me use of the sword and shield at the age of eleven. When I married my husband, my first and last concern was that he was a man who would honor my mind and allow my independence. The Princess Herse is your only heir, the future of Makadakan. Illyria is your ancient ally. I know this. But I also believe that one reason for your alliance is because we in the south have so often come against you as enemies. I cannot imagine, though, that Philip of Illyria would be content to have his future queen independent. She would have to be a wife, and Makadakan would be her dowry. All you have made of this land would be, in the end, absorbed into Illyria, and this time forever.
“My brother had come to offer what we imagined most princesses would want, his hand in marriage, marriage to the Autarch of Phocia, a title we all know is currently temporary. Between Mykon and Illyria, how could you choose Mykon? But what of the protection of Phocia, Evio and Attika, so that you, King Eurystheos, might maintain your autonomy and so that your kingdom remains intact for your daughter to rule as queen in right, choosing her own lord if she choose any, this land not being absorbed?”
“But how?” Princess Herse demanded, though her face betrayed she wished for to believe them.
“The troops, which are now here to guard the interest of Phocia, will be your troops, for your protection,” Pyramus spoke now. “We will be allies in truth. They will know that to fight you they must fight us. You will not be a buffer. Our soldiers will pledge ourselves to you, the same as would have been done if Mykon had married you.”
“Only I will not be marrying you,” Mykon said. “You will continue under your father, ruling the land you were born to rule.”
King Eurystheos looked to his daughter, and she was nodding, quiet.
“It all sounds perfect,” the princess said. “But it would be foolish to say yes to anything immediately. I must think on this.”
Marophon and Pyramus nodded. Mykon prepared to speak, but the Princess raised a finger.
“Especially,” she continued, “since we would be a buffer between you and Illyria. There is no way around that, and you would think us fools to believe otherwise.”
“The Princess is wise.”
It was Manaen who spoke, moving forward.
“Of course,” he continued, “to be a buffer, one must be strong, and if it were in the interest of all of Ellix to make Dakan a strong state, who much the better for you. If the Princess—and her father—are wise, then they know this too.”
“True, Lord Manaen,” Princess Herse nodded, folding her hands behind her back. “And I will think on this as well.”
Manaen nodded in return and said, “Yes, Lady. But don’t think too long.”
“How do you like it?” he growled.
“How do you like it? You like it, don’t you?” Creon demanded as he fucked Alexandra in the upstairs room of the almost empty house.
“Can you take it? Can you take it? Can you take all of… me… inside you?”
She did not have to pretend to enjoy it, or to feel him. Her crying out was not pretended. She did wish he would talk a little less, though.
“Look at me!” he demanded almost desperately. “Look in my eyes. Let’s look at each other,” he panted, bending down to kiss her, to pull on her lips, thrust his tongue into her mouth. He went nearly to hands and knees, gathering her up, and she gave in to the feeling and forgot how little she liked him. There was only how good his body felt, young and a bit thin, a bit glossed with sweat. His big nose, his slightly pocked face, made him look rough and she buried her hands in his thick curling brown hair.
“I’m going to,” he began. “I’m going to… Fill you. I’m going to fill you up…with… my…”
But as he thrust harder, suddenly his eyes rolled back, and then that thing happened that happened to men, that had happened to Arcis when he had thought he was taking his revenge and ended up leaving the house ashamed. Creon’s body lost control. He went still. He was like someone seized, and his face was tender, almost frightened, as he shook between clenched teeth and pleaded, “Look…. at… me.”
She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see this vulnerability and then, as if the god had had his way with him and wrung him out, slowly, Creon lay down across her, and then collapsed, still inside of her.
“I’m coming inside of you,” he said, his body giving little tremors. “I’m still coming.”
MORE TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great portion! The rulers of this world seem to change fast. I am intrigued to see what happens. Creon and Alexandra continue to be something, I am not sure what. Excellent writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
I dont think Creon and Alexandra know any more than you do.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
IN THEBES, ARCIS CONTINUES TO PLOT THE TAKEOVER OF THE CITY WHILE THE ANAXIONADE AND THE REST OF THE CLEOMANES FAMILY WONDER IF IT IS TIME TO FLEE. IN MAKADAKAN, MAROPHON RECEIVES WORD OF HIS BROTHER'S TREACHERY AND PHOCIS'S FAMILY ARRIVES WITH NOTHING BUT SELFISH MOTIVES.
Standing in the noisy court of the Cadmea amidst Arcis’s announcement and the swinging royal head, Lysander said, “Though your greatest temptation is to run, the only thing we need to do is turn these horses around and ride, as stately as possibly, back to the house.”
“I will join you as soon as possible,” Cyron had said, looking behind him at the dais where Arcis had stood.
“We will come with you,” Xenia had added. “There is no point in being in this agora any longer.”
Entering the house of Anaxionade, Perses declared, “This is Arcis’s own foul play I’ll bet.”
“Xenia shook her head, “Is it possible to feel unsafe because of your own brother? I can’t wait till Chiton comes back from visiting his children.”
“Chiton isn’t visiting his children,” Charis said.
They all looked to her.
“Chiton is not visiting his children, and as Cyron will attest when and if he comes here, that is not the head of Princess Terpsichore.”
“You can’t think they wouldn’t stoop to kill her?” Perses said, and his his aunt said, “I don’t know what they would stoop to do, but I do know that your uncle Chiton came to me several nights ago and told me he was fleeing with Terpsichore, and taking her to Dakan. He had already gotten wind of the plot to kill her.”
Xenia looked truly surprised, and Clio said, “They are going to take over this whole city.”
“Are any of us safe?” Polydorus asked, then he nodded in the direction of Xenia and Charis. “You are, I suppose.”
“How can you suppose that?” Charis said. “Pyramus is my husband. My children are of the Aktade, and Arcis has already demonstrated that he does not mind moving against his own family.”
She said to Clio, “The whole city knows I am close to you, and close to Jocasta. If it comes to war against the Anaxionade, I will be seen as much of an enemy as you.”
Xenia shook her head, “Sister, let’s not think of all the bad things that could happen before they happen.”
“But, Mother, how can we not?” Perses said.
His brother added, “This is precisely the time to think about all those things.”
“And to wonder if we should get out,” Polydorus finished.
When they looked at him, he said, “But we’re all thinking it. Right?”
Into the atrium came a woman in black and silver, her hair in a bun under a veil of thin silk, and beside her was a bald man with a large stomach that looked like an older Manaen.
“Where is that treacherous slut?” the old woman demanded.
“Great Aunt?” Clio demanded. “Who do you mean.”
“She means Alexandra,” the old man said.
“And do you plan to offer us food or drink on this most ridiculous of days?” the old woman continued, imperiously.
“I know the lord of the house is not here, but you will have to do.”
Clio rose, but only seemed to be giving a mock bow.
“Aunt Elatea, Uncle Andros, have a seat, and please take your ease. Miro and Tavis,” she spoke to the servants, “prepare the sister and brother of the Lady Phocis food and drink, for they have traveled long to darken our door.”
“A door which they have not seen fit to darken in twenty years,” Polydorus murmured.
THE SHIP CAME INTO the harbor before the sun began to set, and though the cabin master had said, “I bet with the coin you have, you’ll find a good inn for the night, maybe a nice woman,” Iason said, “Both would be great, but the sun is still in the sky, and perhaps I can get to the palace to finish my duty.”
“Well, you’re devoted to your work and that’s for sure,” the captain said. “If you ever get free of that master, there’s work for you with me.”
Iason nodded and scratched his beard. “I thank you kindly, but I just hate to leave a task unfinished.”
Iason rode into the city and up to the citadel, showing his ring to the palace guard. It was only a few minutes later the palace guard said, “We’ll take your horse. General Maro is on his way.”
Iason had become so used to Arcis running the house of the Cleomanes, that he was surprised when Marophon, in the white robe and mantle of an aristocrat, with all the eagerness of his youngest brother came running into the plaza, flagging him down.
“Iason! Iason! Is everything well?”
“Yes, Master Marophon,” Iason said. “I come, though, with a letter from your brother.”
Marophon looked serious, nodding his head as he caught his breath. He threw a hand over Iason’s shoulder. “Get a bath and some food in you, and then I will receive the letter.”
Iason thought that Marophon could have very well simply taken the letter or taken it and not even offered the bath. But he was like his brother and, moreover, they were both like their father.
Iason said, “I understand your intent and bless you, Lord, but I will not be at rest until I have delivered the letter to you.”
“Then do so,” Marophon said, folding his arms over his chest, and waiting.
Iason reached into his satchel and handed Marophon the letter, and Maro unsealed it and then, frowning, read the epistle.
“My brother Arcis is displeased over the news of the birth of my children?”
Iason nodded.
“And apparently over everything I am doing,” Marophon continued, his frown deepening. “…Remove Mykon and Lysander from the Autocracy. And… Disinherit me and my children?”
“Well, do they even have a plan?” Polydorus wondered.
“Their plan,” Elatea said, “is to put one of their own on the throne, and good luck to that.”
“Or,” Andros added, “to put one up as Autarch and then see if he might marry this princess Harmonia.”
“I heard that she was in the land of the Amazons,” Xenia said.
“One hears so many things,” Andros said.
“Well, whatever you heard,” Elatea said, seeming to lose patience, “you never heard that she was here. The Assembly is here, and perhaps they will put the nearest relative of Jocasta and Creon on the throne.”
“Well, we’ll have civil war,” Clio said. “That’s all there is to it.”
“We will have Mykon and Pyramus’s armies surrounding this city,” Lysander said, simply. “We ought to prepare to leave this city as soon as possible.”
“And go where?” his wife asked. “Chio? It’s our village with our cousins, but is it far enough.”
“The Anaxionade are not your only cousins,” Elatea said.
“But they are the only ones who could be in danger, Aunt,” Clio said. Then she added, “Oh, I know you are thinking of yourself, and you too Uncle Andros, but from what I’ve heard, after my grandfather died, you distanced yourself so far from your own sister, no one will ever associate the House of Heklade with the Anaxionade.”
“Girl, you know little of those days,” Andros began, but swiftly, Clio rose up, making a clawing gesture with her hand and it seemed, even to her husband, that she was a foot taller, that the light in the room dimmed.
“I am the High Priestess of the Rising God, how dare you forget that!”
Her hand fell, but even at the return of the light, it was difficult to forget the magic the usually humble married woman had worked. Her uncle, who had risen to tell her off, sank down, sufficiently cowed.
“You and your children and your grandchildren are safe,” Clio said, her voice as imperious as Phocis’s had ever been. “You need not fear for them as you have never troubled to fear for us. But for now the Anaxionade must look to the Anaxionade, and at the moment that entails finding my cousin Alexandra.”
WEEKEND PORTION TOMORROW
Standing in the noisy court of the Cadmea amidst Arcis’s announcement and the swinging royal head, Lysander said, “Though your greatest temptation is to run, the only thing we need to do is turn these horses around and ride, as stately as possibly, back to the house.”
“I will join you as soon as possible,” Cyron had said, looking behind him at the dais where Arcis had stood.
“We will come with you,” Xenia had added. “There is no point in being in this agora any longer.”
Entering the house of Anaxionade, Perses declared, “This is Arcis’s own foul play I’ll bet.”
“Xenia shook her head, “Is it possible to feel unsafe because of your own brother? I can’t wait till Chiton comes back from visiting his children.”
“Chiton isn’t visiting his children,” Charis said.
They all looked to her.
“Chiton is not visiting his children, and as Cyron will attest when and if he comes here, that is not the head of Princess Terpsichore.”
“You can’t think they wouldn’t stoop to kill her?” Perses said, and his his aunt said, “I don’t know what they would stoop to do, but I do know that your uncle Chiton came to me several nights ago and told me he was fleeing with Terpsichore, and taking her to Dakan. He had already gotten wind of the plot to kill her.”
Xenia looked truly surprised, and Clio said, “They are going to take over this whole city.”
“Are any of us safe?” Polydorus asked, then he nodded in the direction of Xenia and Charis. “You are, I suppose.”
“How can you suppose that?” Charis said. “Pyramus is my husband. My children are of the Aktade, and Arcis has already demonstrated that he does not mind moving against his own family.”
She said to Clio, “The whole city knows I am close to you, and close to Jocasta. If it comes to war against the Anaxionade, I will be seen as much of an enemy as you.”
Xenia shook her head, “Sister, let’s not think of all the bad things that could happen before they happen.”
“But, Mother, how can we not?” Perses said.
His brother added, “This is precisely the time to think about all those things.”
“And to wonder if we should get out,” Polydorus finished.
When they looked at him, he said, “But we’re all thinking it. Right?”
Into the atrium came a woman in black and silver, her hair in a bun under a veil of thin silk, and beside her was a bald man with a large stomach that looked like an older Manaen.
“Where is that treacherous slut?” the old woman demanded.
“Great Aunt?” Clio demanded. “Who do you mean.”
“She means Alexandra,” the old man said.
“And do you plan to offer us food or drink on this most ridiculous of days?” the old woman continued, imperiously.
“I know the lord of the house is not here, but you will have to do.”
Clio rose, but only seemed to be giving a mock bow.
“Aunt Elatea, Uncle Andros, have a seat, and please take your ease. Miro and Tavis,” she spoke to the servants, “prepare the sister and brother of the Lady Phocis food and drink, for they have traveled long to darken our door.”
“A door which they have not seen fit to darken in twenty years,” Polydorus murmured.
THE SHIP CAME INTO the harbor before the sun began to set, and though the cabin master had said, “I bet with the coin you have, you’ll find a good inn for the night, maybe a nice woman,” Iason said, “Both would be great, but the sun is still in the sky, and perhaps I can get to the palace to finish my duty.”
“Well, you’re devoted to your work and that’s for sure,” the captain said. “If you ever get free of that master, there’s work for you with me.”
Iason nodded and scratched his beard. “I thank you kindly, but I just hate to leave a task unfinished.”
Iason rode into the city and up to the citadel, showing his ring to the palace guard. It was only a few minutes later the palace guard said, “We’ll take your horse. General Maro is on his way.”
Iason had become so used to Arcis running the house of the Cleomanes, that he was surprised when Marophon, in the white robe and mantle of an aristocrat, with all the eagerness of his youngest brother came running into the plaza, flagging him down.
“Iason! Iason! Is everything well?”
“Yes, Master Marophon,” Iason said. “I come, though, with a letter from your brother.”
Marophon looked serious, nodding his head as he caught his breath. He threw a hand over Iason’s shoulder. “Get a bath and some food in you, and then I will receive the letter.”
Iason thought that Marophon could have very well simply taken the letter or taken it and not even offered the bath. But he was like his brother and, moreover, they were both like their father.
Iason said, “I understand your intent and bless you, Lord, but I will not be at rest until I have delivered the letter to you.”
“Then do so,” Marophon said, folding his arms over his chest, and waiting.
Iason reached into his satchel and handed Marophon the letter, and Maro unsealed it and then, frowning, read the epistle.
“My brother Arcis is displeased over the news of the birth of my children?”
Iason nodded.
“And apparently over everything I am doing,” Marophon continued, his frown deepening. “…Remove Mykon and Lysander from the Autocracy. And… Disinherit me and my children?”
“Well, do they even have a plan?” Polydorus wondered.
“Their plan,” Elatea said, “is to put one of their own on the throne, and good luck to that.”
“Or,” Andros added, “to put one up as Autarch and then see if he might marry this princess Harmonia.”
“I heard that she was in the land of the Amazons,” Xenia said.
“One hears so many things,” Andros said.
“Well, whatever you heard,” Elatea said, seeming to lose patience, “you never heard that she was here. The Assembly is here, and perhaps they will put the nearest relative of Jocasta and Creon on the throne.”
“Well, we’ll have civil war,” Clio said. “That’s all there is to it.”
“We will have Mykon and Pyramus’s armies surrounding this city,” Lysander said, simply. “We ought to prepare to leave this city as soon as possible.”
“And go where?” his wife asked. “Chio? It’s our village with our cousins, but is it far enough.”
“The Anaxionade are not your only cousins,” Elatea said.
“But they are the only ones who could be in danger, Aunt,” Clio said. Then she added, “Oh, I know you are thinking of yourself, and you too Uncle Andros, but from what I’ve heard, after my grandfather died, you distanced yourself so far from your own sister, no one will ever associate the House of Heklade with the Anaxionade.”
“Girl, you know little of those days,” Andros began, but swiftly, Clio rose up, making a clawing gesture with her hand and it seemed, even to her husband, that she was a foot taller, that the light in the room dimmed.
“I am the High Priestess of the Rising God, how dare you forget that!”
Her hand fell, but even at the return of the light, it was difficult to forget the magic the usually humble married woman had worked. Her uncle, who had risen to tell her off, sank down, sufficiently cowed.
“You and your children and your grandchildren are safe,” Clio said, her voice as imperious as Phocis’s had ever been. “You need not fear for them as you have never troubled to fear for us. But for now the Anaxionade must look to the Anaxionade, and at the moment that entails finding my cousin Alexandra.”
WEEKEND PORTION TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a well done portion! A lot of people in danger over this struggle for power! I wonder who will survive and who will be leader in the end? I will have to wait and see. Excellent writing and I look forward to the weekend portion tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
WHILE SHENANIGANS CONTINUE IN MANAEN'S HOUSE, ACROSS THE NORTHERN PLAINS THE AMAZON AND AKXA ARMIES COME WITH HARMONIA TO MEET MYKON
She went to the anteroom and washed off in the basin and then, wrapping herself in a sheer linen, Alexandra went to the door and instructed Cauda, “Wine for Master Creon.”
They refreshed themselves, but mostly she refreshed him, almost afraid of the vulnerability he’d shown toward the end, However, as he drank the wine and redressed, Creon apparently forgot—or had never been conscious—of how he had been at that moment. He was off to talking again.
“Today, my father has scored the greatest coup. Even now he is becoming head of our family, and putting my useless uncle out of the way. Your sister too, for that matter. We’ll have a new king.”
“And will that king be Arcis?” Alexandra said.
“He could be,” Creon said. “And I could be king after him.”
Alexandra wanted to laugh, but then Creon said with that odd mixture of care and conceit that made her almost love him, “And you would be my queen.” He kissed her hand as he rose. “Would you like that?”
He did not wait for an answer, but folded his toga over his shoulder and held out an arm.
“Would you walk me to the door, my lady.”
She did so, walking him through the house with only Causa before her, and then, through the courtyard and nearly to the gate. She heard people approaching, and wondered who was coming, but then, grinning down at her conspiratorially, his dark blue eyes smiling through thick lashes, “Creon said, “How does it feel knowing that today, in your father’s house I’ve taken your maidenhead and crammed you full of my seed?”
With that, he kissed her and left, and Alexandra was not sure if she was meant to feel excited or defeated, but there was talking on the other side of the gate, and some greetings of cousins, and just then Clio entered with an old woman beside her, and a fat old man who looked like her father. Lysander was entering, and the old woman said, “What slatternly manners go on in this house where an unwed girl is allowed to entertain a man unattended.”
But by then Xenia, the oldest sibling of Marophon, was entering with her sons and Lord Cyron, and Alexandra looked from the older woman to Clio and said, “Who is this old witch?”
“Our Great Aunt. Grandmother’s sister, and her brother.”
“Well, I’ve never seen either of these fossils, and if they haven’t had time to come here before they certainly don’t need to be here now.”
“How dare you!” Elatea began. “Polydorous and Clio have offered—”
“Polydorus and Clio can offer the courtesy of their own father’s house, but as long as my father and brother are gone, the Anaxionade consists of myself, and this house is mine and its courtesy you are not offered.”
“She’s right,” Clio whispered to her brother. “Technically, while you are her oldest male relative, we are Aristikion. The oldest male member of the Anaxionade anywhere near here is cousin Kyril in Chio. And no one who thinks anything of themselves is going to travel to Chio.”
Polydorus looked on his great aunt and uncle awkwardly, and Alexandra said to Kostos, “Serve the Lady Xenia, the Lord Cyron and our friends. The two people born before the Great Flood, you may send away.”
“It was a blessed thing they allowed us to march through Thessaly,” Aramache said.
“We were scarcely a threathening army, though,” Harmonia replied as the fire crackled in the clearing, and stick whooshed into flame momentarily.
“True,” Aramache said, looking up into the trees. “These days two thousand troops of a private army crossing ones land cannot be too unusual.”
“Surely Mykon will know of our coming before we reach him,” Niobe said.
“Well,” Harmonia said, “that is rather the point.”
Beside her Basil chuckled, drawing his knees to his chest, and the Princess said, “And you, Aeon? Who have been so quiet. What of Aeon.”
“My mind is in so many places,” Aeon said. “Especially here, in this wood.”
“In the wood?”
“He feels the People,” Basil said.
Harmonia grew serious. She had been about to jest, but now she knew Basil was speaking of something she did not understand.
“The People,” Aeon explained, “are what you sometimes mistakenly call nymphs.”
“The first people, born of the very elements who share the elements,” Basil said. “The Dryad, the Hamadryad, the Okeanid, the Naiad. The Oread.”
“The People of the Trees, of the Sea, of the Rivers,” Harmonia said. “And of the Mountains.”
“Yes. And those born of them,” Basil said, “Are called the People of the Blood.”
“Those born of the oldest of things,” Aeon said, “Are the People of the Blood.”
“But…” Harmonia began, “these are not the Pelasgo.”
“They are older than the Pelasgo,” said Basil. “The Pelasgo are not the oldest of all people. We are of the Blood, but so were the original Sparti and Agae according to your Theban tales, sprung from the teeth of the serpent of Ares in the days when Thebes belonged to that God.”
WHEN WE COME BACK, MORE OF GILEAD, RUSSELL AND ALL OF OUR FRIENDS IN GESHICHTE FALLS
She went to the anteroom and washed off in the basin and then, wrapping herself in a sheer linen, Alexandra went to the door and instructed Cauda, “Wine for Master Creon.”
They refreshed themselves, but mostly she refreshed him, almost afraid of the vulnerability he’d shown toward the end, However, as he drank the wine and redressed, Creon apparently forgot—or had never been conscious—of how he had been at that moment. He was off to talking again.
“Today, my father has scored the greatest coup. Even now he is becoming head of our family, and putting my useless uncle out of the way. Your sister too, for that matter. We’ll have a new king.”
“And will that king be Arcis?” Alexandra said.
“He could be,” Creon said. “And I could be king after him.”
Alexandra wanted to laugh, but then Creon said with that odd mixture of care and conceit that made her almost love him, “And you would be my queen.” He kissed her hand as he rose. “Would you like that?”
He did not wait for an answer, but folded his toga over his shoulder and held out an arm.
“Would you walk me to the door, my lady.”
She did so, walking him through the house with only Causa before her, and then, through the courtyard and nearly to the gate. She heard people approaching, and wondered who was coming, but then, grinning down at her conspiratorially, his dark blue eyes smiling through thick lashes, “Creon said, “How does it feel knowing that today, in your father’s house I’ve taken your maidenhead and crammed you full of my seed?”
With that, he kissed her and left, and Alexandra was not sure if she was meant to feel excited or defeated, but there was talking on the other side of the gate, and some greetings of cousins, and just then Clio entered with an old woman beside her, and a fat old man who looked like her father. Lysander was entering, and the old woman said, “What slatternly manners go on in this house where an unwed girl is allowed to entertain a man unattended.”
But by then Xenia, the oldest sibling of Marophon, was entering with her sons and Lord Cyron, and Alexandra looked from the older woman to Clio and said, “Who is this old witch?”
“Our Great Aunt. Grandmother’s sister, and her brother.”
“Well, I’ve never seen either of these fossils, and if they haven’t had time to come here before they certainly don’t need to be here now.”
“How dare you!” Elatea began. “Polydorous and Clio have offered—”
“Polydorus and Clio can offer the courtesy of their own father’s house, but as long as my father and brother are gone, the Anaxionade consists of myself, and this house is mine and its courtesy you are not offered.”
“She’s right,” Clio whispered to her brother. “Technically, while you are her oldest male relative, we are Aristikion. The oldest male member of the Anaxionade anywhere near here is cousin Kyril in Chio. And no one who thinks anything of themselves is going to travel to Chio.”
Polydorus looked on his great aunt and uncle awkwardly, and Alexandra said to Kostos, “Serve the Lady Xenia, the Lord Cyron and our friends. The two people born before the Great Flood, you may send away.”
“It was a blessed thing they allowed us to march through Thessaly,” Aramache said.
“We were scarcely a threathening army, though,” Harmonia replied as the fire crackled in the clearing, and stick whooshed into flame momentarily.
“True,” Aramache said, looking up into the trees. “These days two thousand troops of a private army crossing ones land cannot be too unusual.”
“Surely Mykon will know of our coming before we reach him,” Niobe said.
“Well,” Harmonia said, “that is rather the point.”
Beside her Basil chuckled, drawing his knees to his chest, and the Princess said, “And you, Aeon? Who have been so quiet. What of Aeon.”
“My mind is in so many places,” Aeon said. “Especially here, in this wood.”
“In the wood?”
“He feels the People,” Basil said.
Harmonia grew serious. She had been about to jest, but now she knew Basil was speaking of something she did not understand.
“The People,” Aeon explained, “are what you sometimes mistakenly call nymphs.”
“The first people, born of the very elements who share the elements,” Basil said. “The Dryad, the Hamadryad, the Okeanid, the Naiad. The Oread.”
“The People of the Trees, of the Sea, of the Rivers,” Harmonia said. “And of the Mountains.”
“Yes. And those born of them,” Basil said, “Are called the People of the Blood.”
“Those born of the oldest of things,” Aeon said, “Are the People of the Blood.”
“But…” Harmonia began, “these are not the Pelasgo.”
“They are older than the Pelasgo,” said Basil. “The Pelasgo are not the oldest of all people. We are of the Blood, but so were the original Sparti and Agae according to your Theban tales, sprung from the teeth of the serpent of Ares in the days when Thebes belonged to that God.”
WHEN WE COME BACK, MORE OF GILEAD, RUSSELL AND ALL OF OUR FRIENDS IN GESHICHTE FALLS
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
An excellent weekend portion! I am enjoying the twists and turns of this story and it’s good that it’s so unpredictable. I am a bit anxious to see who survives the struggle for power but this is a good anxious. Great writing and I look forward to more Geshichte Falls after the weekend! I hope you have a nice one!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
I regret to prolong your anxiety, but switching back to Geshichte Falls, Michigan, but I think it will be worth the wait, and you will find equal entertainment with our old michigan crew.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
WE RETURN TO THE WORLD OF ELLIX
Aeon had been eight when he came to Castle Black with his sisters. Mother had received the message in the night. “You must come.” There were whispers. Aeon was the youngest, the closest in age to him was Xian and Ao and Xanthe were women grown as long as he could remember. They had left the Isle, traveling across the waves until they arrived in the massive city of Ikibukuro, and though this was amazing to Aeon and he craned his head to look at the great buildings, his sisters and his mother said, “there is more pressing business.”
He was the youngest child and the only boy, and Mother kept him close, stroking his hair.
“What will we see?” he asked.
“You will see my mother, and you will see my sister.”
“Sister?”
“Yes,” Maia said, her face showing nothing. “I have not seen her in years”
The journey was several days along the western coast. Once they stopped in the Oskilly Islands but moved quickly on, and after two weeks found themselves in the great harbor of Pylos. They did not stay, but progressed on into the low valleys of the surrounding farm towns always going toward the shadow of the mountains in the west until, after another week’s journey they arrived at the spectacle of a cliff like a high wall on which giants had scratched their nails and at the top of it, in shining black stone were the towers and walls of a palace.
“Built by the Techtones in the early days to the world,” Mother said, “This is the place of my birth, Black Castle.”
He stood in the midst of his sisters, and there was the Grandmother and beside her, tall, shapely, thick arms strong and bare, carmel skinned with reddish brown hair hanging down her back was the Aunt.
“Is she a witch?” Aeon asked.
“She is more than a witch,” Xanthe said. His white haired sister was always stern, not unkind, but not like a companion and not like a mother, really. She was, Aeon would learn, just like an older sister. And what was this woman with the eyes wide like her mother’s wearing a gown like his mother’s, bronze and shot with gold? What had these sisters growing up with this Grandmother been like?
“She’s beautiful,” Xian had said.
“Not as beautiful as Mother,” Ao said faithfully.
Here, their mother snorted, and Aeon laughed as well, so that his Grandmother and his Aunt stopped talking.
“And what do you think, Ae?” his mother struck a small pose.
Before he could answer, she stuck out her tongue.
“That’s not fair!” the Aunt said, “Your son will always think you are the prettiest.
She walked the few paces toward them. “I am Melissa.”
“You are the Bee Woman,” Xian said, looking at the pendant of the golden bee hanging at her breast.
“I have been called thus,” her smile was as merry as her sister’s had been though, Ao observed, Mother did not look merry now.
“Is what they say of you true?” the green haired Xian wondered.
“Depending upon where you heard it, I certainly hope not. Or I certainly hope so.”
“They look just like each other,” Aeon said from behind Xanthe.
“Except,” a new voice said, “for hair color. Hair color is strange in this family.”
But this boy had the strangest hair color of all, deep pink, and he was a little older and, at the time, a little taller than Aeon. He was unaccountably beautiful, and off with tilted eyes and he wore a plain shirt and trousers. Behind him came a taller woman in a black belted gown lined in gold with hair down her shoulders equally pink as the boys, and eyes just nearly as bold. But it was the boy who thumped Aeon on the shoulder.
“Why did you do that?” Aeon wondered.
“Because you’re another boy.”
“I’m Aeon,” Aeon said, rubbing his shoulder.
“Fun,” the older boy said. “I’m Eco.”
“So how did you get that name?”
“My mother said it is a name for an age,” Aeon said, “That’s all she ever says, and when I ask her to explain it, she doesn’t.”
Eco looked very serious for one so young, and it seemed as if his spiky hair rose higher.
“It is better than Eco.”
“I like Eco,” Aeon said.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Eco said.
“How old are you?” Eco said.
“Ten. What about you?”
“Fourteen.”
“You seem older.”
Eco thrust out his lower lip.
“I don’t really know what that means. We should be friends though. The youngest as we are. And the only boys.”
“Why are we the only boys?” Aeon asked.
“Because our mothers had daughters.”
“But our fathers? What about yours?”
“He left,” Eco said shortly, and it didn’t seem as if he was ashamed, only there wasn’t anything else to be said.
Aeon said, “Mine left too. I never knew him at all.”
“I did know mine,” Eco said. “I feel like he left for a good reason, but I don’t now what that reason is. I know that my mother loved him, but after he left, she never cried. Or at least I didn’t see it.”
“Do you think,” Aeon said, looking at the tall, large woman between their mothers, “that the Grandmother made our father’s go away.”
“No,” Eco said. “It isn’t that.”
“But this is a family of girls. Maybe our fathers couldn’t be in it.”
“That might be so,” Eco allowed. “But after all, we are here.”
“There must be something to it though,” Through his fringe of hair so pale yellow it was green, he looked over his sisters, Xian, Ao and Xanthe, and saw them speaking with the aunts and Eco’s sister.
“There must be,” Eco agreed. “But we won’t find it out today.”
“What are you boys talking about?” Aunt Melissa, Eco’s mother called out.
“Well, now,” Grandmother had said, “how many times have they wandered up on us and we have said, women’s business. They are the men of our clan. They must be discussing men’s business.”
But there was woman’s business to discuss, the business of Melissa and her son and daughter journeying south to the islands.
“We have been too long parted,” Melissa said to Mother, “And truthfully I can tell you are not pleased, and there is much to be discussed.
“Oh yes,” Xian said, “there is so much room at the Falls, and we haven’t known about you for so long, Aunt. And Aeon needs boys. Yes.”
Xian stopped talking while Neftis, impassive looked on her younger sister.
“Of course,” Xian added, “it is Mother’s decision.”
“When you put it like that,” Mother’s face was hard to read, “how could I possibly say anything but yes?”
It was the night after Eco’s seventeenth birthday. Aeon was still a boy of thirteen. Eco was leaving. He had been angry, trying to keep his anger inside until the anger turned into tears, sadness and loss. He had not wanted to be near Eco that last night. But late now, still up, awake to all the little noises of the house, he left his room and padded through the corridors of the Falls to reach Eco’s rooms. Usually he had stayed there, but tonight he passed through the rooms dark under the Dark of the moon, and then to the anteroom before where Eco slept. He could hear his light breathing, and the door was open. Eco lay on his stomach under the light sheet, splayed out under the sheet, like a baby, his pink hair twisted into twiggy dreadlocks.
Aeon lifted back the cover, and tears sprang to his eyes at the sight of Eco’s naked body, smooth, brown, his arms firm as were his thighs, his beautiful feet. the wings of his shoulders pronounced, the line of his spine going to the sweet small of his back lifting to the small round hills of buttocks. He could not stop looking over him, and Eco turned over and opened his sleepy eyes.
“Aeon,” he mouthed.
Aeon dropped the cover, terrified, not knowing what to do.
“Aeon.”
Suddenly, Aeon pulled off his night robe and stood there, tall for a boy of thirteen, willowy, conscious of his stiff penis and the drop of liquid at the tip of it. He ached for Eco who simply lay on his stomach, face turned to him, and Aeon climbed into bed with him and pulled the sheets over them, clinging to Eco as Eco clung to him.
He was full of heat, melting from himself as he had been at the memory of that first time, when he and Eco had clung to each other in the night, kissing and inhaling each other, entering and being entered, the salt smells of their flesh, the heat of the bed increasing until, together, they both flew out of their bodies in that dark room, and on that trembling bed. A few times he had been able to reach Eco, but now he must be with him. Now, in the world of half dreams he must reach him. Even if he could not touch him in this world, he must touch him in the next.
Their first love making had nearly destroye him. Now, years later, his cock rising in longing on that long bed while Harmonia and Aramache recited the prayers, Aeon felt himself drawn out of his body, as if through a narrow opening, and then he was standing beside Aeon, and looking down at his body, only slighty embarrassed by how his erection lifted the cloth. He turned around and saw blackness, remembering Eco’s words to him in his letter that he simple called: On Leaving the Body.
Go not far afield at first, and 'tis better to have one who is used to leaving the body with you. A note: When, having succeeded in leaving the body, you desire to return, in order to cause the spirit body and the material body to coincide, THINK OF YOUR FEET. This will cause the return to take place.
But this time he had to go far afield. He was still trembling as if he were thirteen and not nineteen, as if he and Eco had come together for the first time. And now he could feel him. He knew just where he was.
And so he set out in the Dark to find him.
MORE TOMORROW
Aeon had been eight when he came to Castle Black with his sisters. Mother had received the message in the night. “You must come.” There were whispers. Aeon was the youngest, the closest in age to him was Xian and Ao and Xanthe were women grown as long as he could remember. They had left the Isle, traveling across the waves until they arrived in the massive city of Ikibukuro, and though this was amazing to Aeon and he craned his head to look at the great buildings, his sisters and his mother said, “there is more pressing business.”
He was the youngest child and the only boy, and Mother kept him close, stroking his hair.
“What will we see?” he asked.
“You will see my mother, and you will see my sister.”
“Sister?”
“Yes,” Maia said, her face showing nothing. “I have not seen her in years”
The journey was several days along the western coast. Once they stopped in the Oskilly Islands but moved quickly on, and after two weeks found themselves in the great harbor of Pylos. They did not stay, but progressed on into the low valleys of the surrounding farm towns always going toward the shadow of the mountains in the west until, after another week’s journey they arrived at the spectacle of a cliff like a high wall on which giants had scratched their nails and at the top of it, in shining black stone were the towers and walls of a palace.
“Built by the Techtones in the early days to the world,” Mother said, “This is the place of my birth, Black Castle.”
He stood in the midst of his sisters, and there was the Grandmother and beside her, tall, shapely, thick arms strong and bare, carmel skinned with reddish brown hair hanging down her back was the Aunt.
“Is she a witch?” Aeon asked.
“She is more than a witch,” Xanthe said. His white haired sister was always stern, not unkind, but not like a companion and not like a mother, really. She was, Aeon would learn, just like an older sister. And what was this woman with the eyes wide like her mother’s wearing a gown like his mother’s, bronze and shot with gold? What had these sisters growing up with this Grandmother been like?
“She’s beautiful,” Xian had said.
“Not as beautiful as Mother,” Ao said faithfully.
Here, their mother snorted, and Aeon laughed as well, so that his Grandmother and his Aunt stopped talking.
“And what do you think, Ae?” his mother struck a small pose.
Before he could answer, she stuck out her tongue.
“That’s not fair!” the Aunt said, “Your son will always think you are the prettiest.
She walked the few paces toward them. “I am Melissa.”
“You are the Bee Woman,” Xian said, looking at the pendant of the golden bee hanging at her breast.
“I have been called thus,” her smile was as merry as her sister’s had been though, Ao observed, Mother did not look merry now.
“Is what they say of you true?” the green haired Xian wondered.
“Depending upon where you heard it, I certainly hope not. Or I certainly hope so.”
“They look just like each other,” Aeon said from behind Xanthe.
“Except,” a new voice said, “for hair color. Hair color is strange in this family.”
But this boy had the strangest hair color of all, deep pink, and he was a little older and, at the time, a little taller than Aeon. He was unaccountably beautiful, and off with tilted eyes and he wore a plain shirt and trousers. Behind him came a taller woman in a black belted gown lined in gold with hair down her shoulders equally pink as the boys, and eyes just nearly as bold. But it was the boy who thumped Aeon on the shoulder.
“Why did you do that?” Aeon wondered.
“Because you’re another boy.”
“I’m Aeon,” Aeon said, rubbing his shoulder.
“Fun,” the older boy said. “I’m Eco.”
“So how did you get that name?”
“My mother said it is a name for an age,” Aeon said, “That’s all she ever says, and when I ask her to explain it, she doesn’t.”
Eco looked very serious for one so young, and it seemed as if his spiky hair rose higher.
“It is better than Eco.”
“I like Eco,” Aeon said.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Eco said.
“How old are you?” Eco said.
“Ten. What about you?”
“Fourteen.”
“You seem older.”
Eco thrust out his lower lip.
“I don’t really know what that means. We should be friends though. The youngest as we are. And the only boys.”
“Why are we the only boys?” Aeon asked.
“Because our mothers had daughters.”
“But our fathers? What about yours?”
“He left,” Eco said shortly, and it didn’t seem as if he was ashamed, only there wasn’t anything else to be said.
Aeon said, “Mine left too. I never knew him at all.”
“I did know mine,” Eco said. “I feel like he left for a good reason, but I don’t now what that reason is. I know that my mother loved him, but after he left, she never cried. Or at least I didn’t see it.”
“Do you think,” Aeon said, looking at the tall, large woman between their mothers, “that the Grandmother made our father’s go away.”
“No,” Eco said. “It isn’t that.”
“But this is a family of girls. Maybe our fathers couldn’t be in it.”
“That might be so,” Eco allowed. “But after all, we are here.”
“There must be something to it though,” Through his fringe of hair so pale yellow it was green, he looked over his sisters, Xian, Ao and Xanthe, and saw them speaking with the aunts and Eco’s sister.
“There must be,” Eco agreed. “But we won’t find it out today.”
“What are you boys talking about?” Aunt Melissa, Eco’s mother called out.
“Well, now,” Grandmother had said, “how many times have they wandered up on us and we have said, women’s business. They are the men of our clan. They must be discussing men’s business.”
But there was woman’s business to discuss, the business of Melissa and her son and daughter journeying south to the islands.
“We have been too long parted,” Melissa said to Mother, “And truthfully I can tell you are not pleased, and there is much to be discussed.
“Oh yes,” Xian said, “there is so much room at the Falls, and we haven’t known about you for so long, Aunt. And Aeon needs boys. Yes.”
Xian stopped talking while Neftis, impassive looked on her younger sister.
“Of course,” Xian added, “it is Mother’s decision.”
“When you put it like that,” Mother’s face was hard to read, “how could I possibly say anything but yes?”
It was the night after Eco’s seventeenth birthday. Aeon was still a boy of thirteen. Eco was leaving. He had been angry, trying to keep his anger inside until the anger turned into tears, sadness and loss. He had not wanted to be near Eco that last night. But late now, still up, awake to all the little noises of the house, he left his room and padded through the corridors of the Falls to reach Eco’s rooms. Usually he had stayed there, but tonight he passed through the rooms dark under the Dark of the moon, and then to the anteroom before where Eco slept. He could hear his light breathing, and the door was open. Eco lay on his stomach under the light sheet, splayed out under the sheet, like a baby, his pink hair twisted into twiggy dreadlocks.
Aeon lifted back the cover, and tears sprang to his eyes at the sight of Eco’s naked body, smooth, brown, his arms firm as were his thighs, his beautiful feet. the wings of his shoulders pronounced, the line of his spine going to the sweet small of his back lifting to the small round hills of buttocks. He could not stop looking over him, and Eco turned over and opened his sleepy eyes.
“Aeon,” he mouthed.
Aeon dropped the cover, terrified, not knowing what to do.
“Aeon.”
Suddenly, Aeon pulled off his night robe and stood there, tall for a boy of thirteen, willowy, conscious of his stiff penis and the drop of liquid at the tip of it. He ached for Eco who simply lay on his stomach, face turned to him, and Aeon climbed into bed with him and pulled the sheets over them, clinging to Eco as Eco clung to him.
He was full of heat, melting from himself as he had been at the memory of that first time, when he and Eco had clung to each other in the night, kissing and inhaling each other, entering and being entered, the salt smells of their flesh, the heat of the bed increasing until, together, they both flew out of their bodies in that dark room, and on that trembling bed. A few times he had been able to reach Eco, but now he must be with him. Now, in the world of half dreams he must reach him. Even if he could not touch him in this world, he must touch him in the next.
Their first love making had nearly destroye him. Now, years later, his cock rising in longing on that long bed while Harmonia and Aramache recited the prayers, Aeon felt himself drawn out of his body, as if through a narrow opening, and then he was standing beside Aeon, and looking down at his body, only slighty embarrassed by how his erection lifted the cloth. He turned around and saw blackness, remembering Eco’s words to him in his letter that he simple called: On Leaving the Body.
Go not far afield at first, and 'tis better to have one who is used to leaving the body with you. A note: When, having succeeded in leaving the body, you desire to return, in order to cause the spirit body and the material body to coincide, THINK OF YOUR FEET. This will cause the return to take place.
But this time he had to go far afield. He was still trembling as if he were thirteen and not nineteen, as if he and Eco had come together for the first time. And now he could feel him. He knew just where he was.
And so he set out in the Dark to find him.
MORE TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
Great to get back to this story. All of this story about Aeon and Eco is very interesting. I was surprised they slept together given Aeon’s age but I guess I should have expected it in this world. Excellent writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Yes, yes... all we can say about thati s, it is the type of world where people are married at thirteen and fourteen. I mean, and they're also cousins.
