Authors: Morgan Llywelyn
The Elementals (15 page)
But the air was leaden and still. There was a sullen haze to the north. The fleet which was Crete's pride and power would stay where it was until Poseidon showed a more amiable face.
Somewhere on the sea Tereus is heading for Crete, Meriones thought to himself. I'll need to retrieve the gold and have it ready for him when he arrives.
“My cousin's current trading voyage is just to the major ports of
call in the Mediterranean and Aegean,” Hokar had said. “He will return to Knõsos before long.”
call in the Mediterranean and Aegean,” Hokar had said. “He will return to Knõsos before long.”
So they did not have much time.
“This is going to be dangerous,” Meriones said under his breath to the dog.
The hound wagged his tail. With a last glance at the ships and the sea, Meriones set off again, springing upward from the soles of his feet as if he had not a care in the world.
No one could see the thoughts roiling in his head.
According to Hokar, the gold had been hastily buried in a shallow hole beneath a red-flowering bush that smelled of honey. The bush was to the left of the steps leading down to the largest of the many pools in the terraced gardens.
The gardens were popular with courtiers and visitors to the palace alike. As long as daylight lasted, there were usually a number of people wandering through them.
But as Hokar had pointed out, “Now that you are assigned to the cooks you arrive very early and leave very late. If you know a way to reach the kitchens by going through the gardens, you could actually be there when it's dark and no one else is around. I could never do that. We arrive later and leave earlier. And besides, they will be watching us. No one will be watching you. Get the gold for me, Meriones, and hide it in a safer place until Tereus gets here.”
Meriones did indeed know how to reach the kitchens by way of the terraced gardens, but it was a highly circuitous route. One he might have to explain if he was questioned.
As he walked along, he had a flash of inspiration.
“I'll say I'm picking flowers to garnish the royal platters!” he told the dog.
By the time he reached the palace a sultry heat was already building up. With a casual salute to the guard, and a farewell pat to the white hound, Meriones entered the Sun Gate. But he did not follow his usual route. Instead he trotted briskly down endless passageways, up stairs, around corners, across courtyards, until at last he reached the garden.
To his disappointment, other people were already there. The time he had spent arranging for Dendria to stay with Tulipa had cost him; the sun had risen before he ever left Knõsos. He had no chance of getting the gold this morning. But he plucked flowers just the same and took them to the cooks, to establish his story.
The cooks were delighted. Garnishing food with flowers at once became the fashion in the House of the Double Axes.
That night Meriones left by the same route, but once again he found people still loitering in the gardens, trying to find a breath of air in the darkness.
To his dismay, when he reached home Tulipa was alone. “I sent Dendria away,” she said in a petulant tone. “Her voice cuts into my head like a knife into a melon. I wish we could go away, Meriones. Really go away, I mean. To someplace cool. To the mountains ⦔ She sighed.
“The heat will break soon, everyone says so. It can't go on much longer like this. The Minos has offered sacrifices to be made to Poseidon in exchange for cool winds from the sea.”
“I think the gods are angry with us, Meriones,” Tulipa replied. “It will take more than sacrifices to placate them. Look at me. You must have done something to make the gods angry and I am being punished.” Weak tears of self-pity crept down Tulipa's sunken cheeks.
Meriones was frantic. He had done everything he could think of to help his wife; he was doing all he could to help his friend; neither situation was getting better. He felt caught, trapped, helpless.
He was exhausted, but he could not sleep. At last he left his wife alone in their sweat-soaked bed and went down to lie on the cool paving stones of the courtyard for a few hours, until the light of the false dawn summoned him back to the palace.
The stones were hard and unyielding, but they had already given up their heat. They soaked up his body heat instead, giving him a measure of relief.
Lying pressed against the ground in his courtyard. Meriones was one of the first to feel the rumbling deep in the earth that signaled the awakening of the gods.
En route to Kn
sos again in hopes of exchanging a cargo of oil and spices for Cretan pottery, Tereus was still dreaming of his own ship. He had come to hate every plank of the Qatil because it belonged to someone else.
sos again in hopes of exchanging a cargo of oil and spices for Cretan pottery, Tereus was still dreaming of his own ship. He had come to hate every plank of the Qatil because it belonged to someone else.He considered his prospects. The men in the Cretan colony that called itself Atlantis had been willing to buy the old priest, so Tereus had left the man on the island of Thera with them. But they had not paid much for him. They said he was an unknown quantity whose worth would have to be proved.
By now, Tereus told himself, they should have found ways to force that old savage to reveal his talents.
And if he's as good as I think he is, they might now be willing to buy more like him. We could discuss their commissioning me to go back to the Islands of Mist and capture other sorcerers. It could be enormously profitable.
Yes indeed.
If the old man has proved himself.
Tereus made a decision.
“We're going to call in to Thera again before we go to Crete,” he informed his helmsman. “I have some enquiries to make.”
The helmsman did not like the sulfurous look of the sky toward Thera, but he knew better than to argue with Tereus. He changed course at once.
At first the blue sea hissed as always, running past the prow. Then it grew sluggish, almost oily. They were making slow headway in spite of their best efforts. But even when the air became gritty and his crew started coughing, Tereus insisted they hold to their course. If a man protested, he felt the lash of Jaha Fe's whip across his shoulders.
They began meeting other vessels coming out from Thera. Luxurious pleasure galleys as well as ordinary fishing boats, everyone of them packed with white-faced, staring people whose household goods were piled around them. It appeared to be a migration, as if the population of Thera had in some common madness decided to take to the sea.
Leaning on the rail of the
Qatil,
Tereus stared down at them. No one waved to him. No one called a greeting. Some of the women, he observed, were crying.
Qatil,
Tereus stared down at them. No one waved to him. No one called a greeting. Some of the women, he observed, were crying.
A larger vessel, a trader like the
Qatil
, approached. Its captain was an old acquaintance with whom Tereus had shared wenches and wine in many ports. He hailed the other ship and it drew alongside.
Qatil
, approached. Its captain was an old acquaintance with whom Tereus had shared wenches and wine in many ports. He hailed the other ship and it drew alongside.
The
Qatil
put down a boat so Tereus could go over to the other ship.
Qatil
put down a boat so Tereus could go over to the other ship.
Its captain wasted no time with pleasantries. “Everyone who can lay hands on a boat is leaving Thera,” he told Tereus. “They would rather be at sea than wait on the island to face the wrath of the god.”
“What god?”
“Ennosigaion. Earth-Shaker! For days he has been growling underground, and Zeus supports him with a rain of ashes from the sky. The air stinks like rotten eggs. Thera is unsafe, Tereus. I implore you, turn your ship about and come away with us before it gets any worse.”
Tereus looked toward the island barely visible through the murky air. Its solitary peak thrust upward from the sea like a warning finger. For the first time he recognized a certain malevolence to the shape. Near the southern tip of Thera was the commercial town of Akrotiri, mercantile hub for the sprawling Atlantean colony that had expanded up the slopes to command sweeping views toward their native Crete.
Akrotiri; abandoned. Atlantis ⦠a cold worm stirred in Tereus' belly.
“The gods cannot threaten me,” he said to the other captain with too hearty a laugh. But as soon as he was on board the
Qatil
again Tereus gave the order to put about and make for Crete. The helmsman responded gladly.
Qatil
again Tereus gave the order to put about and make for Crete. The helmsman responded gladly.
There was not a breath of wind to stir the sail. Oars were their only power now. The sweating oarsmen labored, grunting, impelled by a nameless fear. Jaha Fe no longer needed to use the lash on them. In the sullen, lowering light, they were doing their best to leave Thera behind them.
On Crete, Meriones was also doing his best that morning. After several frustrating days when he had found someone in the gardens every time he passed through, today he found the gardens deserted. People were being kept under roofs by the persistent grit that fell like rain from the sky.
Meriones hurried to the bush Hokar had described. Crouching down, he dug with feverish fingers into the soft earth at the bush's roots. It was volcanic soil, friable and loose, and offered little resistance. He scrabbled hurriedly. In a moment more he had the package in his hands.
He glanced nervously around to see if anyone was watching. The gardens were still deserted.
Meriones stood up. The package was both bulky and heavy. But when he sucked in his belly as hard as he could, he was just able to thrust it down between his belt and his flesh, where it would be somewhat hidden by his embroidered apron.
If anyone looked closely his shape would have seemed very suspicious. But no one was paying any attention to Meriones that morning.
For several days the people of Crete had been living in a state of accelerating apprehension. Poseidon was flexing his muscles and rippling the earth from one end of the island to the other. Meriones had felt the first tremors as he tried to sleep in his courtyard. Since then, subterranean movement had become almost constant. From long experience, Cretans knew how to build to withstand the milder attacks of the Shaker's temper, but the continual rumblings were wearing everyone's nerves. Dogs howled. Goats went dry. Children awakened crying.
Tulipa's headache had returned, increasing to alarming proportions.
Householders along the northern coast were complaining of a greasy ash that settled on everything, ruining food and fabric. Men began wandering down to the harbor to talk to experienced seamen, then stand and stare at the ugly light in the north. On their way home they visited the various sacred shrines and left lavish offerings to Poseidon Earth-Shaker.
People invented excuses to visit the inland mountains, or relatives in the south. Then they gave up making excuses and began fleeing openly, running from the unnatural evil that hovered on the northern horizon.
First singly, then in families, they had descended on the palace to demand protection from their god-king. But as they pressed in upon him, The Minos had panicked. He gave orders that the guards were to admit no more outsiders.
The court concluded that expendables such as craftsmen and entertainers would be next. It looked as if only the royal family and the most influential officials would be granted sanctuary within Labrys.
Meriones had come this morning, against his better judgment, to make one final attempt to retrieve the gold for Hokar before access to the palace was denied him. He would have preferred to stay with
Tulipa. No one, he felt sure, would have noticed or cared. People were too preoccupied.
Tulipa. No one, he felt sure, would have noticed or cared. People were too preoccupied.
But his promise to his friend compelled him.
Now that he actually had the gold, his first thought was to turn around and go home. But that would look more suspicious than if he had not come at all. No, he decided, better to wait until after dark, then leave as usual.
Finding a hiding place in the meantime should not be too hard, really; not for a man who knew Labrys so well.
Entering the palace, Meriones made his way to the upper levels. There an antechamber had been set aside for the exclusive use of the musicians, who visited it when they needed to repair their instruments. Aside from that, the room was never visited.
Meriones slipped into the chamber and pulled the door closed after him. The room was empty. With a sigh of relief, he dug the bulky package out from his clothing.
He could not resist opening it for just one look.
When he folded back the last flap of cloth, Meriones drew in a sharp breath. Gold gleamed like fire, like chunks of stolen sunlight. Pure, raw, massy gold, in nuggets worth a fortune.
So much gold! No wonder it was heavy. He realized at once that he could not leave it here, no matter how well hidden. He had planned to secrete it at the back of a small cupboard crammed with bits of wood and wire and pots of fish-glue. But that would never do, not for such a treasure. It would surely be found. Questions would be asked, musicians come under suspicion â¦
He would have to take it with him. No one would pay any attention to him now, he reasoned, not with Labrys rocking on its foundations. There would be no better time to get the gold out of the palace.
He wedged it back between his apron and his loincloth, wincing as the bulky nuggets dug into his belly. He wasted valuable moments readjusting his leather girdle to hold the package in place. His waist was no longer elegantly slim, he noted ruefully.
Then he brushed his hands and stepped out into the corridor trying to look nonchalant.
The atmosphere was changing rapidly. People's expressions were tense, their movements frenetic. Officials scuttled up and
down the passageways, exhorting others to remain at their posts. Until the last, the minions of The Minos would strive to keep order.
down the passageways, exhorting others to remain at their posts. Until the last, the minions of The Minos would strive to keep order.
But it was rapidly becoming a lost cause.
The bellowing of a bull reverberated through the stone-walled chambers of Labrys. Meriones realized sacrifices were being offered in an attempt to placate Poseidon Ennosigaion. The Great Central Court would run red with blood.
Priestesses howled eerily. Incense thickened the air.
Men and women started running; directionless, panicky.
“I don't suppose anyone will be expecting me in the kitchens today,” Meriones remarked to no one in particular. Then, hitching his apron to make certain the gold was secure, he set off in search of the nearest safe exit.
He was almost knocked down by a man who came bolting out of an antechamber. “Watch where you're going!” the fellow snarled, sweeping Meriones aside with a wave of his arm.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean ⦔ The musician waved his fingers apologetically. But the other had already run off.
The floors were shuddering violently, Meriones realized with a thrill of horror. Not only walls, but the foundations themselves might collapse under such an onslaught!
A bull broke free from the sacrificial pens and ran headlong through the palace, his frantic bellowing adding to the mounting hysteria. A madness seized the palace animals. Pet monkeys bit and clawed. A hound savaged a royal child.
Cracks appeared in the smiling faces on the frescoes. Tiles fell with a clatter in the bathing chambers. Something grated; something crashed. Cries of distress were coming from the royal apartments. Plaster crumbling added its dust to the already polluted air. An enormous spiral shell made of stucco fell from the ceiling of the queen's megaron and crashed at Ebisha's feet. With a shriek of terror, she ran from the room. No one tried to stop her.
Hokar also was running through the dust-choked hallways of Labrys. A rumor that the gates had already been closed and barred had reached the workrooms, stampeding the craftsmen. Each was determined to find some way out for himself.
Upset and disoriented, Hokar lost his way. He found himself at the head of the Grand Staircase just as Ebisha came running up it.
People swarmed over the stairs. Someone bumped into her and she fell to her knees. With an oath, Hokar plunged down the steps to help her. The face she lifted to him was blank with fear.
People swarmed over the stairs. Someone bumped into her and she fell to her knees. With an oath, Hokar plunged down the steps to help her. The face she lifted to him was blank with fear.
He caught hold of her arm. “We must get out of here. Can you stand?”
Ebisha jerked free of his grasp and shrank back.
“I'm Hokar,” he said, “don't you know me?”
She shuddered like the trembling earth. “Hokar?” The syllables sounded meaningless on her lips.
“Yes, Hokar the goldsmith, remember? Stand up now, that's it. Here, this way ⦠do you know how to get out of here?”
“Out of here?” She was mimicking his words without understanding.
The air was darkening perceptibly. Even the light wells failed to dispel the gloom. A cloud seemed to have blotted out the sun.
Hokar guided the dazed Ebisha back to the top of the Grand Staircase, where he tried to figure which way to go next. Broad corridors lay in either direction but gave no clue of their destinations. “Which way does that go?” he asked Ebisha, pointing along one.
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