Chapter 1.20

Karson

The day of Ax’s wedding feast came up quickly. Xene and Crathis had teamed up to organize the entire event. Construction on the house stopped, the brick machines packed up on a wagon for future use. Instead, effort turned towards organizing the hill and loading wagons in anticipation of leaving soon. We wanted to reach Iolcus before winter set in, and before the armies of Kronos arrived at Assos.

The wagons were organized in two neat rows behind the house. The courtyard was emptied of crates and supplies before being turned into a large outdoor kitchen. The stones that had been collected from the rocky hill over the past few weeks were piled into a low stone wall, with split logs making a fence atop it. It only reached about four feet in height, but it gave the area the sense of an estate rather than an encampment. On the pond side of the hill, just outside the main fenced yard, was a simple split-rail fence setup for our oxen, and another for the horses. We’d managed to collect a few more horses since we’d arrived, although I hadn’t been involved in any of the dealing. Some had come with recruitment, others through trade. Antiope had co-opted Zahra into training the riders in mounted combat. They had opted for teaching them to be lancers, since teaching mounted archery could take months, if not years.

In front of the house was long rows of crude tables, with equally crude benches. We had spent a considerable sum of money on cordage, which had never occured to me before. It made sense that we would need large amounts of rope for practically anything we did, but I was a modern city kid at heart. Professional construction companies with heavy equipment built things, not brute force and rope. I added pulley design to my list of projects to work with Ax on.

I still used the mud hut for my experiments, although it now boasted a better door and a repaired roof. The supplies inside had been moved out, a cot with wool bedding and a rough table moved in. The table was low so that I could sit on the ground, negating the need for a chair. That suited me fine. After walking through the camp, I knew it was time.

I’d been putting it off, but I wouldn’t be more ready by waiting. I caught up with Danae as she supervised a small group of men and women at our makeshift archery range behind the wagons. As I approached, I was surprised to see that almost all of the archers were the survivors from the Temple. They had been imprisoned, waiting to be human sacrifices to Kronos and his ilk. They had been starved, dehumanized, systematically abused, and broken. Danae had taken a special interest in helping them, it seemed.

“Is it time?” she asked me as I approached.

“It is. Follow me.”

We went to my hut, where Zahra was waiting. It never surprised me anymore that she always seemed to know exactly when I needed help. She could not see my future, but she could see hers and everyone around her. She once explained it as “knowing where to be” more than “knowing exactly what would happen”. She could foresee a fate, but that fate was mutable. If a person had sufficient will to act or change, they could alter their fate. Multiply that by every person she was around, and even tiny changes in decisions could mean she couldn’t know all outcomes. But she could prophesy an individual’s most likely path, and even foresee some of the bigger picture. It was both helpful and limiting, for if you know your path, would it cause indecision at a critical juncture? Would altering your path send you down a worse one? Or could it even cause harm to those you care about?

Zahra escorted Danae inside to prepare. I gave them privacy for a few minutes, before Zahra called for me to come in. Danae was undressed and laying in my cot, her modesty protected by a loosely pinned chiton without the belt. It was my version of a hospital gown. I was concerned that if my changes modified her too much, the belt could cut into her and wound her even as I worked. The same with tight clothing. I just didn’t know enough, so I was taking every precaution.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

She nodded, too nervous to speak.

I knelt down next to her and placed one hand on her arm, the other on her head. I knew, in theory, how the gigantes’ muscles were stronger. I knew, in theory, why the cynos had such excellent reflexes. I knew, in theory, why the harpies were so light despite their size, making them so very fast. Now I had to put it into practice.

I let my healing magic flow through Danae’s body. I had become intimately familiar with every part of her over the past week, from the inside out. There was no modesty in my magic, for it examined the body in its entirety. I knew every muscle fiber, every organ, every drop of blood. Slowly, I began to work. To be stronger, she needed denser musculature. To support that denser muscle mass, she needed stronger bones. To move swiftly, those strong bones had to be stronger but lighter.

So I worked from the bones outward, doing all I could to mute the pain response as I worked. I couldn’t just make the bones solid, for then the marrow inside wouldn’t be able to produce red blood cells to keep her alive. Instead, I borrowed the lattice design of the harpies to decrease the amount of bone required. I also borrowed the denser bone design of the gigantes, to strengthen that lattice. The entire time I worked, Danae was bathed in sweat as struggled with the pain. I could mute it, but not stop it. Zahra bathed her head with water, periodically allowing her small sips.

When I finished with the bones, I moved on to the muscles. The cynos had remarkably strong tendons, which allowed them to move their limbs swiftly. The gigantes’ muscles were incredibly dense, giving them strength beyond their size. The harpies’ had a superior metabolism, leading to better oxygenation of the blood and better stamina. I blended these three traits together. Danae’s flesh bulged and sagged, rippled and reshaped. At one point, I realized I would have to actually get closer than her arm and her head. I needed more direct contact so that I could feel as I worked, or I risked making a mistake.

“Do it,” gasped Danae when I explained. I didn’t waste time, I pulled aside the chiton and placed my hands on her stomach. Her muscles ripped and rebuilt under my hands and she screamed. But the magic was working. As my hands passed along her skin, the muscles underneath stretched and changed. Like clay in the hands of a sculpter, Danae’s body morphed at my command.

Finally, I turned my attention to her senses. To keep up with the improved speed and strength, she would need better balance and better eyesight, both of which came from the harpies. My hands move to her temples. Compared to everything else, this was almost easy. I did not let my focus lapse, for when tired or nearly finished is when mistakes could happen.

Then it was done. The tension in Danae’s body relaxed. I looked down to see that she was in perfect physical form, every muscle in her body clearly outlined under her skin. I picked up the chiton and covered her, before rising from the ground. I was shaky from the effort, feeling exhausted even though I had not been the one to go through the process.

Danae slipped into a restful sleep, her exhaustion far beyond my own. Zahra shooed me away so that she could clean her up and tuck her in. I stepped outside to see the Temple prisoners standing around, waiting for me. All of them carried their bows and quivers, leather wristguards on their shooting arms. These men and women looked gaunt from their ordeal, and worried from Danae’s.

“How is she? Did it work?” asked a young man. He was only in his early twenties, not much younger than myself, but had the eyes of someone far older. A scar cut from his cheekbone at an angle down to the back of his jaw.

“It was successful. She is sleeping peacefully now, and Zahra is tending to her.”

Pleased noises came from the crowd.

“Milord, we’ve all talked,” said the young man. “We want you to do the same for us.”

“What?!”

The man took a step back, probably from the sharpness of my response. To his credit, though, he did not back down.

“We’ve all talked. You know what we went through. None of us are important people. We were grabbed at a whim by a lord in Tekmon and sent to that… place… to die. We went through the tortures of Tartarus before you and your brother saved us. If you make us strong, every last one of us will swear personal fealty to you.”

“If I do this, you realize you won’t be completely human anymore,” I said in warning.

The young man looked back at the others, before meeting my eyes for the first time. “Milord, as broken as we are, I don’t think we’re much human anyways. If Lady Danae can go through this, we want to get better, too.”

It was a solution. I wasn’t psychologist enough to know if this was a good idea or not, but these brutalized men and abused women wanted some measure of control over their lives. They were lost souls in search of a purpose, and I was in a position to give them the one that they wanted.

“We’ll begin tomorrow. My brother’s wedding feast starts in a few hours.”

Immediately, the young man knelt before me. “I swear my life to your service, to be your blade and shield.”

He stood and stepped aside, and each of the other eleven followed suit. I had a personal guard.

The encampment began to grow crowded as the early afternoon wore on. People from the town began to drift in; wealthy merchants, ranking militiamen, and lesser nobility. The smell of cooking foods drifted through the air. Strategos Dadaces and Lord Nyphron arrived in the company of a priest of Zeus, who wore a long white chiton with a gold pattern woven around the hems. The benches began to fill, and someone began to play a pan flute.

I walked over to greet the Strategos as he wandered around. Lord Nyphron had gone a different direction, finding a seat near the head table.

“I will say, magi, you and your brother work swiftly,” said Dadaces. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay on here in Assos? I have a few empty estates within the walls that I’d be willing to sell you at a significant discount.”

I turned to survey what Dadaces was seeing, and he was not wrong. Our encampment had overtaken the entire top of the hill. The thick wood that we had access to was now considerably smaller, and organized work areas dotted the hillside. Dadaces was getting substantial improvements to this piece of land, making it far more valuable than it had been when we rented it.

“I’m afraid we must get on to Iolcus,” I said.

“Not Tekmon? That’s unfortunate. I’m quite fond of it. After all, I am of one of the most powerful families in the city. You would do quite well there,” he replied. This was a different Dadaces than I’d seen before, reasonable and not nearly as pompous. It roused my suspicions.

“I’m afraid not. We’ve got reason to believe what we seek can be found in Iolcus,” I said apologetically. “I’m sure Tekmon would be quite lovely, and if we do find the opportunity, we will be sure to visit.”

“Well, do stay in touch. Friends are hard to find and easy to lose,” he replied. Dadaces then wandered towards Lord Nyphron and the jar of wine that he was holding up.

The entire conversation was odd. We’d had a very adversarial relationship with our erstwhile landlord. But now he was calling us friends?

“What has you worried now?” came Zahra’s voice as a soft arm snaked around my waist. My arm settled over her shoulders.

“Dadaces,” I said thoughtfully. “He is acting odd.”

Zahra turned her gaze to the Strategos. She stiffened. “Karsos, take a close look with that mage sight of yours.”

I looked closely, focusing on Dadaces to seek out any trace of magic I could find. Even with my focus directly on him, I almost missed it. There was a spell of obscuring blocking my vision.

“How did you see that?” I asked.

“I saw it being renewed on his throne,” she said. “Not the spell or its caster.”

“The Atlantean spell of Unraveling, will that work, do you think?”

“Perhaps,” said Zahra. “In any event, it’s our only real option. A powerful dispel would also do the trick, but will undo half the enchantments in camp.”

I focused closer on Dadace’s back, as he was faced away from us. Quietly, I wove the spell, using only small movements of my fingers to wind the magic properly. It was a reasonably simple cast, but I poured as much mana into it as I could without fraying the weave. The spell leapt away from me and tangled into the spell on Dadace. In moments, the spell on the Strategos unraveled and fell apart.

Dadaces froze for a second, then took a sip of watered wine as if nothing had happened. He hadn’t noticed. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Do you have any idea what that spell was?” I asked Zahra.

“None at all.”

“Karsos!” called Ax. I looked over to see my smiling brother, slightly red-faced from the wine, waving us over to the head table. Latona was seated next to him in a new dress and with a veil over her face.

“Looks like it’s time for the feast,” I said. I held out my arm for Zahra, an we made our way over to the head table.

The ceremony of the feast was simple. Under Latona’s tutelage, Ax knew all the right things to say or do. They made offerings to the gods, and offered money to the Temple of Zeus, to ensure a fruitful marriage. Once the prayers to the gods were done, Ax removed the veil from Latona’s face to the cheers of the crowd.

Platters piled with food were brought out, as was a large roasted boar stuffed with figs and apricots. Piles of bread, pastries and fruits were spread around. Roasted vegetables, venison, and goat meat were placed in easy reach. But before any eating could be done, the priest of Zeus stood and gave a hearty blessing to the new couple, assuring them that Zeus and his new goddess wife, Hera, smiled down on their union.

As we ate, the best of the myrmidons, oiled and nude, took part in a wrestling competition for the entertainment of the guests. When a winner was pronounced, archers came out to compete in a competition of who could hit the furthest target. One after another, men and women took turns shooting at an apricot fifty yards away, all the while the pan flute player piped away cheerfully.

When it looked as though there was a clear winner, however, a new archer arrived. The cloaked and hooded newcomer stepped up and easily split the apricot at one hundred yards. The other remaining archer bowed out, unable to hit at such a distance. The newcomer pulled back her hood, to reveal Danae.

Zahra elbowed me and my grin was from ear to ear. She really was okay. Danae turned, and I heard gasps from the crowd. Her eyes had changed color to a vibrant, hawk-like gold.