Wheels of Fate

Chapter 1 The Child   The Chariot of the Sun scorched the earth of rocky Lydia that day as it soared into the West, its progress slow and laboured, as if the charioteer were loathe to lash his wild horses. The calls of shepherds could be heard over the mountainsides as they emerged from the shady retreats from which they watched their flocks, to make their lazy way back to cave and hovel for the night. Many cast a backward glance as they went, for there was something in the air, a feeling to crush the stomach with planted dread. Twilight was not a time to be out. King Tantalus of Lydia stood on the obsidian terrace of his palace which was hewn into the rock of Mount Sipylus. He stood alone, staring out at the sea where it turned to fire in the light of the setting sun. He stretched his thick arms wide, as smoke from two bronze, griffin-headed tripods wafted around him like spectral serpents at his behest. Then, he glanced at the small table where a golden bowl and goblet sat, glowing in the increasingly strong darkness. Tantalus ran his hands over his bare chest, feeling the power that had coursed through his veins dwindling. The bowl again...the goblet. He watched them, thoughtful as he tugged at his long, black beard, and then strode over to take up the bowl in two hands. His breathing was rapid, but he smiled as he lifted the contents to his lips and opened his mouth to eat the last of the radiant ambrosia. He closed his eyes as he chewed and it slid down his gullet, filling him with heat and strength. He put down the empty bowl and looked to the goblet - a few final drops of sweet nectar remained, the last portion of what he had stolen from Olympus. He took the cup, not a drop spared for the Gods, and tipped the contents past his lips. Tantalus' person shone off the blackness of the obsidian at his feet and he gazed defiantly up at the sky. "You are no better than I!" he said, feeling the strength of fifty men charge through his body. "What have you done?" a voice said from the entrance to his rooms. Tantalus wheeled round, his eyes blazing. "How dare you come upon me like that!" he raged at his chief battle commander and friend. "How dare I?" the man said, staring back, the glow of Tantalus reflecting off of his bronze armour. "You'll destroy us all with your arrogance!" "You go too far! You're weak!" Tantalus stepped closer, the muscles of his chest heaving and pulsing. "The Gods, your father Zeus, invited you to Olympus - an honour few mortals receive - and you decided to steal some of the sacred ambrosia and nectar. You're mad, Tantalus!" "And you, friend...are dead." Tantalus leapt, swiping aside the blade that lashed out like a viper, and taking hold of his general's neck. The man was lifted several feet off the ground, his eyes bulging, his face crimson. "You think the Gods will find out? You think they know and see all?" Tantalus said, an idea forming even as the man suffocated within his grasp. "They only want us to think they see all, so that they can control us. But we are better! Zeus overthrew Kronos, his father, and so shall I overthrow mine." "You...will...never..." Tantalus' eyebrows raised. "Oh won't I? The Olympians come to dine here at my palace two nights hence. I shall give them a feast they'll not suspect, and the first shadow of doubt as to their omniscience shall be cast. It will be the beginning of their end." "You're...mad," the general said, his fists slamming weakly into Tantalus' chest and arms. Tantalus looked up at the man he held in one hand, and reached for a nearby spear with the other. "I am anything but, friend." With that, Tantalus drove the spear up through the man's groin, along his spine, and then out of his gaping mouth before he turned and hurled the body over the railing into the flickering torches of the town below. Screams rose up into the dusk, and even then, Tantalus laughed, his hands dripping with blood. "Sinor!" he yelled for the servant whom he knew was standing outside. Shuffling feet saw the man approach, his gap-toothed grin and greasy hair belying the string of daggers he kept beneath his tunic. "Yes, my lord!" the man bowed. "We shall test the Gods, Sinor! It is time." "You have something in mind, my lord?" the man asked, bowing, immune to the fear that would have overwhelmed even the bravest of warriors. "Yes," Tantalus said, turning to look out at the sea where the emerging moon reflected on its surface. "Bring me my son Pelops.” By the shores of the black lake, safe on the lands of his father, King Tantalus, the boy, Pelops, watched the stars begin to wink from the glassy surface. Birdsong and a flap of wings echoed from the dark depths of the wood about the lake, and Pelops scanned the fringes of that forest to see if his brother, Broteas, was there, or if his sister, Niobe, approached. But neither of them came, the one likely perched on the mountainside, continuously carving away at stone to honour Lydian Cybele, the other tending her many children in the depths of their father's palace. Neither sibling had ever had time for Pelops, though he lived in hopes of their filial attention. Only the naiad of the black lake ever paid him any heed, and that night, she was not there. Pelops stood, the dark water lapping at his bare feet as he gazed beyond the lake to the heights of Mount Sipylus, far above the palace, where he sometimes wandered to try and see how far the world stretched into the distance. As he began to turn away, a hand touched his foot and he looked down to see the naiad gazing up at him. Her eyes matched the darkness of the lake she guarded, the stars reflected equally in both. "You leave?" she asked as she emerged from the depths to stand close to him. She made Pelops nervous sometimes, but she had never been cruel, and for that he was grateful. She seemed to guard him as much as her watery realm. "I must. My father will be preparing for the Olympians' visit," Pelops said. "Your father!" she said harshly. Pelops looked at her, how her pretty face distorted for a moment that made his heart skip like a rabbit frightened on the path. The Naiad looked down at him now, her wet hands touching the black curls of his hair ever-so-gently, coming to rest on his cheeks so that she could stare into his young eyes. "It will be well," she said. "The water told me." "What do you mean?" Pelops asked, unable to pull away. But she said no more, only bent over to kiss his lips before backing away into the dark water until it rose above her breasts, chin, and eyes. Her hair wavered on the surface like sea grass in a stream, and then she was gone. Pelops watched the water for a time before turning and taking the path that led back to his father's palace where it overlooked the sea. He did not see the naiad emerge once more from the water to watch him go, her tears lost on her wet visage. The path was growing dark, the branches of wild thyme that lined it turning to angry claws in the waning light. In the field to the right, the shapes of centaurs and satyrs darted about, ghostly shadows that emerged when the light of day dwindled. A snake slithered across the path, making Pelops stop suddenly, just as he was about to step upon it. The beast rose to its full height, a terrible hiss upon its thin, reptilian lips lined with dripping fangs. Pelops stood still, his face calm, though his heart raced beneath his ribs. The serpent stared him in the eyes, its mouth closing, even as the tongue darted out to touch the boy's face. It then dropped to the ground and shot off through the tall grass. When it was gone, Pelops ran and did not look back. It was completely dark by the time Pelops arrived at the looming grandeur of the palace gates, the blackness of the arch made orange by the torches that flamed like a chimera's breath on either side of the road. One of the guards stepped forward. "Someone's looking for you, young prince," the man said. "Who?" Pelops asked, keeping his distance from the man. "Sinor." Pelops swallowed, and the man smirked. Everyone detested Tantalus' man for one reason or another. The soldiers took him for a coward, the women for a lech, others for a cheat and a liar. But Pelops always felt horror at the man, or the mention of his name. He terrified him more than his father, who had never been kind. "Go on then!" the guard urged. "I'm not going to have my back lashed on your account. Go!" Pelops passed beneath the gate and began the long climb up the wide, curving stairs to the uppermost reception chamber. If Sinor wanted him, he would find him along the way. However, Pelops arrived without seeing anyone on his way there, and when he arrived before the chamber, the tall cedar doors were ajar. Inside, beyond the polished marble table that stretched almost the length of the hall, Pelops could see Tantalus sitting upon his throne, his eyes grabbing at him even from a distance, and beside the king, Sinor. For some reason, the words of the naiad popped into Pelops' head. It will be well. "Come here, boy!" Tantalus’ deep voice travelled harshly over the marble and obsidian of the hall. "I need something of you." Pelops forced himself forward, though something in his guts told him to run, to go quickly from that place. But he could not. "Ye...yes, Father?" he said as he reached the end of the table and noticed Sinor sitting casually now upon the lowest step to the throne, sharpening a long xystis which rested across his knees. "What can I do for you?" Pelops asked, looking up into his father's cold gaze as the heavy hand took hold of his shoulder. "You haven't grown for some time, boy. You're the same size as you were many months ago." "I do eat father, and exercise as instructed by my teachers." Pelops looked at the ground and then back up when Tantalus squeezed his shoulder painfully, as if testing his strength, or his tolerance for pain. "Do you remember the tales of your grandfather?" Tantalus asked. Pelops nodded, though he did not like recalling them. "Yes, Father. Kronos was devouring his children and Zeus, the last of the children, was taken away and hidden from his father." "And what did Zeus do?" "Grandfather returned one day to defeat his father, and so the Gods crushed the Titans who now dwell imprisoned in Tartarus." Tantalus let go and walked a few yards, his hand rubbing his black chin. "Do you think Zeus did well?" Tantalus asked. "Of course!" "You are wrong. He should have destroyed the Titans once and for all, for while they live, there is ever a risk of their escape, of chaos.” "Surely they were well-imprisoned," Pelops said. "Always be ready for the unexpected, and you will never be taken by surprise." Sinor now stood and paced around the father and son as they talked. Pelops watched the man out of the corner of his eye, but his father pulled at his chin. "Look at me!" “Kronos was weak too. He was fooled by Rhea and did not expect his son to survive." "Because he ate the stone she gave him instead." "Correct. But..." There was a long pause as Tantalus turned away from Pelops and raised his hands out to either side is if to hug the darkness. "But what, Father?" With his back to Pelops, Tantalus spoke. "You are no rock." Pelops spun, just as Sinor's blade came down onto his head and blood poured over the black floor of the chamber...