Chapter 3
A Debt Paid With Freedom
By the time Kyros had made it down to the dungeon his voice had become hoarse. He sat on a rock bed that was contained in a cell no bigger than a couple of feet. Hay was strewn over the floor as a wooden bucket was thrown in the corner. The prison cell was dirty as rats crawled in and out of the holes in the wall. Torches lined the outer walls as two guards sat playing with dice as they watched over him. Hades dark eyes seemed burned in his mind as his wings of smoke carried away the only thing that mattered to him. His hands seemed to wring together, he was sure to be tortured for information that he was sure nobody would believe. It was only a matter of time before the rest of the guards would come down and escort him up to the king. What would he say? Would the king even believe him? He scoffed even if the king did he was still found in her bedroom half naked. He had ruined the arranged marriage between the two kingdoms. The death of hundreds of his fellow soldiers would be on his hand and all for the sake of a forbidden love.
His thoughts were interrupted by a large bellied man waddling into the grimy prison. His eyes focused on the guards and he gave a bark, “go out and prepare the wagon . . . we are going to transfer him”. “Transfer him,” asked one of the guards curiously, “yea transfer him now get out there and do it”! The guards didn’t question the order again as they gave a quick nod and exited the room faster than a prison escapee. Kyros stared up at the round face of Ramis once again. Ramis had lost his shock at the sight of Kyros. On the contrary he gave a reassuring glance and immediately darted over to the front of the cell door. Removing the keys from off the wall, “What are you doing”? Ramis grabbed the ring, “Ramis they are going to know you let me go”. The cell door opened as Ramis moved away. “Now go . . . leave the country, come back in a couple years and say hello,” Kyros walked out of the cell. “Why are you doing this,” he lowered his head, “your father . . .” Kyros held up my hand, “whatever debt that you have with my father was paid a long time ago.” He shook his head, “I could never repay that debt . . . only my death would be worthy of your father’s gratitude”. Kyros placed a hand on his shoulder, “I am sure he would be thankful and tell you your debt has been paid many times over”. He gave a small smile as he pushed Kyros, “go there isn’t much time”.
Running over to the table he grabbed his leather sheath and sword. He turned back to Ramis, “you will be tortured and killed for this”? Ramis shrugged, “I can’t do this Ramis, I have to help you somehow”. “Go,” he yelled, “there is nothing that you can do for me”. Kyros stared at him not really sure if there was anything he could do, especially when his escape window was closing fast. Finally out of nowhere and without thinking it through he gave a quick “I can help,” Ramis paused “how”? “Please don’t hate me,” “Kyros you couldn’t do anything . . .” but he fell silent when his fist smashed into the side of Ramis’s face. He slammed against the wall as he yelled “what are you doing”? Kyros gave him a sympathetic, “I’m sorry I have to make it look convincing don’t I . . . best you hold still”. “Hold still,” he growled as another fist slammed into the top of his curly brown locks which fell like long strands of noodles. He hit Ramis with blow after blow as he tried to fight Kyros off. But with one solid upper cut Ramis’s head was sent back into the rock wall and he fell silently to the floor. In his unconscious state Kyros took off up the stairs hoping that Ramis would at least make it out alive now. Taking the stairs three at a time he arrived at the upper level, which guards were known to patrol frequently. He made his way across a tapestry and seemed to slither through several passages before meeting another one. He slid under a torch and around the corner creeping as fast as he could. He made his way over to a door and opened it. He then slid his body through and ran down another corridor. He stopped at the edge of the hallway when a door slammed open in front of him.
“Please Prince Ariston we can explain you can’t return home so soon,” “I am afraid that I have already sent out the order and my ship is being loaded as we speak”. “Please we can still negotiate a treaty,” the king tried to sound hopeful but the prince growled “you promised a virgin wife and all I get is a tramp in a pretty dress”. “Now you go too far Prince Ariston,” the king began to grow angry too, but caution was still present in his voice. “Our negotiations are void now”! “Why void? We don’t know if her virginity is taken”. The prince scoffed, “please she was found in bed with one of your soldiers, and now I hear she has disappeared.” “Oh Prince please she has merely gone out for one of her night time strolls . . . please let us sit down and if we have to renegotiate a new deal.” The prince gave a little laugh, “yes I can see why you were so haste on our marriage and now I know the rumors in my country are true”. “Rumors,” repeated the king, but the prince merely chuckled, “let’s just say the agreement between us would be an advantage to my homeland but is by no means necessary”. “Are you calling us weak,” Kyros tried to gaze around the corner as he saw all the king’s and prince’s men glaring at each other waiting for the order to attack.
“Well let’s just pray your insult and disrespect is not taken in a hostile manner by my father”. “You dare think that you can talk down to the mighty empire of . . .” “HA,” retorted the prince, “mighty empire . . . indeed” he smirked. “Prince I warn you even guests have lines that can be crossed,” the prince’s sarcasm was gone with a snarl, “and you shouldn’t cross the might of a REAL empire”. The king backed away, “I think that you have overstayed your welcome. I think before the peace is broken between us and replaced with war you should leave immediately”. The prince didn’t seem to back down, “and I tell you again you better hope my father doesn’t dwell much on your dishonor”. He seemed to flap his golden cape as he growled, “I have never been more insulted in my life”.
The king began to regain his proper demeanor, “I don’t see how you are gravely insulted? I was just as shocked by the news as you were. I can assure you that the man will be tortured and killed as a token of our . . .” “Spare me” snarled the prince. “I assure you I will be telling my father in full about my trip”. “And I look forward to your father’s response” replied the king with sarcasm. “I just hope you are ready for a war,” there was a long pause. Kyros sat pressed against the wall. He knew the king was sizing up the prince as the seconds seemed to tick away. “If it comes to that the soldiers of Olenos are prepared for a long crusade . . . I wish I could say the same for you?” The prince must have seen repetition in the conversation as he gave a final “then I dear say the next time we meet will be at the formal signing for a declaration of war.” “Indeed,” said the king which seemed to finalize the matter.
Footsteps approached as Kyros pressed his body up against the wall. He held his breath as the prince passed as another door closed. The prince was now whispering to his soldiers. “How many soldiers can escort me to the ship? I wish to make a hasty departure,” the soldier whispered, “only us my lord, the others aren’t ready”. Another door opened at the other end as the prince gave a frustrated groan, “very well, let’s take our leave now to avoid any further incidences, but you make sure the rest are right behind me . . . lord knows we are all homesick enough.” Another door closed and soon silence engulfed the busy hallway. The torches seemed to crackle happily as Kyros took a long overdue gasp of breath. Kyros knew he was in trouble, he knew that soon guards would be swarming over the estate and his death was imminent. He almost could feel death resting its dead hand on his shoulder begging him to accept his inevitable fate. Because of his love thousands of his fellow brothers-in-arms would be shipped off to fight in another foreign affair. His stomach seemed filled with jagged rocks poking and prodding every inch. It was an uneasy feeling knowing that your actions could be responsible for the deaths of so many.
He stood there unable to move as his legs felt like they were made of large stone pillars. His very life seemed to be falling apart and there was only one choice. The key to keeping his temple from crumbling to mere dust was Amee. The torches cast dark shadows over the walls as they seemed to dance with the dismay that filled his heart. A soft cry echoed on the wind as a song fit for a mourner seemed to cast the room in a darker light. A flutter of wings caught his attention as he turned his head to hear a soft clicking of nails on the smooth stone floor. They were soft as pins but seemed to echo like the clanging of swords. A small black bird came waddling across the floor several feet ahead of him. It stopped and flapped its wings, Kyros couldn’t hide his disbelief. “A mockingbird . . . are you that same mockingbird that was . . .” but he fell silent when a soft note filled the air, it was filled with sorrow and sadness. It raised it wings and took off into the shadows. It disappeared as quickly as it had come and soon he was back to remembering the gloom that lurked ahead for him.
Trying to gain his composure Kyros took a couple deep breaths. “They were only threats,” he reminded himself, war between the countries was not set in stone. It was a great possibility that they could just settle the matter peacefully after all countries don’t really want to go to war unless they have too. Well that is at least what Kyros hoped would happen. Closing his eyes and counting to five he finally released himself off from the wall and sticking his head out again he scanned the empty corridor. If the prince was leaving, then the exit must be where he was heading thought Kyros. Deciding to take a left he followed the prince’s path through a pair of wooden doors. He opened the door slowly and to his utter delight he saw an open door about twenty feet ahead of him. However this hallway was not filled with the only sound of crackling torches. Servants, maids, and slaves passed through the door as the kitchen seemed a busy place. The door slightly opened as Kyros watched all the people moving back and forth. There were three options for Kyros, he could try to find another way out, he could make a dash for it and hope for the best, or maybe he could wait until somebody comes through the . . .
Lost in his thoughts he had lost track of the people when the door he was currently behind opened with a crash. It hit him with a thud and sent him back against the wall. A slave had come around the corner and the door closed behind him. He was a greasy kid who looked like he had been a slave all his life. “What are you doing here, this hallway is only for nobility”? Succumbing to his first instincts like before he felt déjà vu when he said again, “I’m sorry”. With the quick reactions that the army could only instill Kyros’s fist smashed into the slave’s face sending him to crumble on the floor.
In a quick haste he had removed the clothes from his slave and used them as a disguise. Hopefully he could get further with them then without them. Straightening out the scratchy brown potato sack like shirt. His long brown pants were stale and hard as if caked in mud. Kyros picked up the tray of clothes that he was carrying and before he could talk himself out of it. He walked through the double door, his sword hanging behind his leg. The door was twenty feet away, and then ten feet, soon the clatter of washing dishes and clothes became more distinct. Five feet away as he clenched the tray tighter, he passed right by the doorway and luckily no one said a word. He strolled out the front door as pairs of soldiers were patrolling the grounds. Kyros walked quickly down the road and passed the many colored gardens. He even passed by a large marble water fountain depicting Zeus sending the Titans to “drown” at the bottom of fountain. He moved as fast as he could but still moved at a pace that wouldn’t draw too much suspicion. The edge of the grounds were in sight as he moved down the dirt path. “So close,” he seemed to whisper to himself as a large tree stood at the side of the road.
Crossing it a loud, “halt,” came booming through the peaceful grounds. A guard emerged from behind the tree displaying the bronze armor that Kyros had been stripped of before entering the dungeon. He carried a bow with a small leather holder carrying more then a couple dozen arrows. “Leopold what are you doing here”? His fellow soldier came forward broad shouldered and beefy, he held a beautiful oak bow that shone like it had been polished by the gods themselves. As a matter of fact there was even a story that went along with how Kyros’s best friend Leopold had gotten the bow. It was a famous tale spoken throughout the mighty kingdom of Olenos.
The Bow of Apollo
Oh how the people seemed to moan in the days when the Titans roamed
Mighty Brave Zeus sat up high, hearing the mortal’s dreadful cries Hades rivers overflowed with souls Hades hunger was filled below
In the god’s epic battle people were disregarded and slaughtered like cattle
A lone cry from a woman so fine to tempt the gods from up high one in particular caught his eye
Apollo God of Sun swooped down when all seemed done
Caught his beauty and flew to Olympus rested on the sun for many minutes
When the Titans had fallen and imprisoned in the sea well protected from you and me
When Zeus gathered his flock on top of Olympus Rock
For Apollo’s treason, abandoning the fight for a lovely reason was trapped in a prison for many seasons
Apollo’s new love laid waiting patient she finally did go but before parting she took the bow And with this theft it passed to her daughter, born from a love interest from the god Apollo.
When Apollo was released the bow he seeked, gone to time lost forever in the depths of mankind.
“Slave what are you doing out here and how do you know my name,” Kyros looked up and saw his friend nearly fall back in shock. “I can’t believe you’re here,” Kyros nodded “yeah I’m sorry but I have to go”. He watched Leopold unsheathe an arrow which was always a dangerous sign. “I am sorry I don’t understand just let me pass, I have to rescue Amee,” Kyros watched him shake his head as he gave several, “no, no, no, no, I have orders to bring in any intruders”. “Please Leopold I have to rescue Amee,” he furrowed his beefy brow, “I heard that you were caught in her room the night she ran away”? “She didn’t run away Hades abducted her,” “Hades,” replied Leopold in a skeptical manner. “I know it sounds weird but please if you are my best friend you will let me go get the love of my life back.” He rubbed his head clearly confused and conflicted, “if I let you go they will most likely torture me then feed me to the lions.”
He raised his bow, “please don’t take this personally”. “Personally, this isn’t funny,” the sunlight seemed to make the bow gleam in the sunlight. The arrow sat pointed at Kyros, “I have a wife and kids, you have nothing but the life, I am so sorry,” Leopold cried. Kyros gave a growl “I’ll remember that when they crucify me upside down”. Leopold directed his bow towards the estate exclaiming, “I thought you were at the frontlines or at least the castle, wouldn’t expect you out here in the king’s private summer estate.” “The soldiers are all being gathered, I was the last guard before they pulled out”. Kyros turned quickly but his friend was ready and the arrow flew past his head cutting off half of Kyros’s ear. Kyros fist landed square in his friend’s face who howled with pain.
The grapple was intense as blow after blow came between the two soldiers. After a particular brutal kick to the stomach Kyros pulled back and withdrew his sword with a twirl. As his giant friend unsheathed his blade of destruction Kyros’s twirl clanged with his friends. “Why are you doing this,” Leopold’s question was met with the same, “why are YOU doing this”? Their swords twirled and rang through the grounds, “I have a wife,” “I know,” interjected Kyros as their swords struck with such ferocity that sparks showered in the air. “Annabel and your son Iolaus,” “don’t speak their names . . . if you don’t come with me your tongue will only speak their deaths.” Leopold swung at Kyros’s feet and with an elegant twirl worthy of the finest combative skills Kyros twirled over it. It seemed as if Ares himself was a mere spectator in this battle. “I have to rescue Amee,” clang! “And you don’t think the whole kingdom is looking for her”? “They will never find her. Hades took her,” clang “why would Hades take Amee when he has Persephone”. Kyros lowered the sword, “why wouldn’t he”? The fighting stopped as they both stared at each other, “please let me go,” pleaded Kyros again. “You don’t know what she means to me”. “And you don’t know what Annabel and Iolaus mean to me”? They froze again, “I am sorry Leopold but I can’t fight you nor kill you, how would I look your wife and son in the eye and be the uncle you want me to be”? Kyros sheathed his sword and said, “I’m leaving to find Amee”.
He turned and began to walk away as if it were in slow motion Kyros felt his friend raise his sword high into the air. Each step was taken in an hour long stride as he could almost see Leopold winding up for a swing that could cleave a man in two. He could almost see the expression on his face as his lips seemed to curl in focus. However as if time had sped up Kyros was able to duck the blade and unsheathe his sword again. And with a little twirl the blade cut across his friend’s chest. Ending up directly behind him Kyros watched his friend fall to his knees and as he knelt there taking in his last gasps he knew he had made his son fatherless in a matter of seconds. Kyros walked around him as he watched his friend’s fat face turn into confusion, “why”? He asked with a look upon his face which nearly made Kyros’s heart die a little. “I could ask you the same question . . . it didn’t have to end this way”. “You’re no friend of mine,” and with his final actions he spit on Kyros’s leather shoes and fell to the ground dead. The seconds seemed to stretch on and on. Taking in his friend’s death he stopped as if something had popped back in his head. He was supposed to be escaping giving a final silent goodbye he removed the quiver of arrows from his friend’s back and grabbed the supposed Bow of Apollo. It seemed to quiver in his hands slightly as he stared at its glossy surface. It was even more beautiful up close than it was at a distance.
Kyros began to walk down the dirt path when several guards appeared further down. They marched in lines of two and came to a stop at the sight of him. They all stared pointing weapons at the sight of a slave holding a bow, sword, and a sack full of soldier gear. They all unsheathed their weapons as they began to run after Kyros, “Halt”! The ground was unstable and the grass was fresh beneath his feet. His chest was beginning to burn as the soldiers chased bellowing, “halt”!
Finally able to remove an arrow Kyros placed it on the string. He dropped his sack of soldier gear pulled back the string and released. The arrow took off like a lighting bolt from Zeus himself and caught one of the soldiers in the shoulder. Kyros smiled and hopped on his feet glad because he had never been that good of a shot. The soldiers ceased their advance as Kyros grabbed his soldier gear and took off through a thicket of trees. Sliding down a small trench and bounding over a downed log. Tearing between tall rows of bushes, he stopped when he heard a small crunch something that was very different from tall grass. A carriage was passing by and he had just come out behind a horse drawn guard wearing colors of red and brown. The horse trotted along side him and seizing that moment Kyros dropped the gear and ran up behind the carriage hopping onto the small ledge. The horse gave a whine as the whips cracked, “whoa there”! In the distance Kyros saw something that made his mouth drop open. Several horse drawn soldiers were speeding close towards them their distance definitely closing in. Slinging the bow around his back as Kyros took a deep breath and hopped under the carriage. He gripped onto the axle as he slipped his leg on top of a piece of wood. His feet rested and it made it a bit easier but holding himself up by the arms was not an easy task.
The carriage rattled on the dirt ground and soon horses came up from behind the carriage. It stopped in its tracks and talking began, “sorry Prince Ariston but we must check the carriage for an escapee”. “Escapee,” replied the snide prince, “there is nobody here”! “Besides I have to get to my ship, the rest of my men are waiting to leave,” the solider remarked “I’m sorry sir but we just want to make sure your not harboring anybody.” “Harboring anybody do you know I am and if I tell you that there is nobody here my word should be as good as the god’s themselves”!
Sweat poured down Kyros face as he decided to venture a chance and lowered himself from the carriage. “MY word,” cried the prince as the soldiers were pulling him out, “I am sorry your majesty but I have orders”. The prince was pulled from the carriage and then something happened soldiers began to scuffle and soon Kyros heard the distinct sound of swords beginning to ring. The prince yelled, “This means war you backstabbing . . .” the rest of his sentence was cut off as Kyros decided to roll out from under the carriage. Two soldiers stood fighting as Kyros withdrew his sword. The soldier in robes of red and brown dropped his opponent as he turned to Kyros. “You,” he pointed at Kyros as he raised his sword high. It took your basic two step combination and soon the soldier fell. Blood rained through the air as soldiers continued to die all around him. The prince had fallen to the ground as well but he lay holding a small cut over his arm. Kyros saw the last soldier, blood covered his face as he stared at him. He shook his head as he whimpered “I didn’t want to do any of this,” Kyros motioned, “then go”. “Gone,” repeated the solider as he grabbed at horse mounted it and began trotting away.
Walking over to the prince dressed in the finest gold clothes Kyros picked him up. “Please my arm,” he cried gripping at it with a pained look on his face. “Let me look,” removing his arm a small gash appeared no more than an inch deep. “It’s a paper cut at best,” “it’s a battle scar”! “Scar,” smiled Kyros as the prince gazed up “yes . . . who are you”? Kyros pushed him “it doesn’t matter who I am just start walking”. “Ah yes my rescuer, I guarantee that you will be rewarded beyond measure from my father . . . I can assure you of that”! Kyros began to walk with the prince down the dirt path towards the port of Olenos. “I want to thank you, my good savior and what shall I call you, while you ensure my safety to my ship,” “um . . . Kyros”?