Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Chapter 1

     "General Elgar!" came a terrified shriek from the outskirts of camp as one of his scouts fled from the deep, dark woods, his eyes wide, blood streaming down his forehead and cheeks as he collapsed at the feet of his brave and bewildered leader.                                                                                                                                              
     The Eastern Lord of War knelt down beside his dying and injured soldier who was falling into shock and as he held him, Elgar found the man's back had long scratches, deep and crimson, warm with his life's blood seeping out. "What has happened? Where are the rest of your men?" the General asked thinking the Warrior Women of Themiscyra, his Nation's long hated enemy, had captured, and killed, his battle scouts.., however, when he strained to listen to the dying man's reply, the young Generals belly churned and his mind raced.
     "They're all gone..," the scout stammered through short, labored breaths as he said "They came.., sharp claws, bloody fangs, wet, red daggers..," his voice rose along with his pain. "a black and orange flash of a nightmare.., they came! The tigers.., ate all my men.., and then the horses, but I escaped, claws at my back, hot breath, I ran, I ran. so fast and far away!"
     "What of the city! What of Queen Thera's Army?" the frustrated General demanded to know every last bit of information he could obtain before his loyal scout bled to death in his arms, his countryman's blood seeping into the earth in scarlet stains. For he had waited 10 long years for this day! Elgar had returned a General, had returned to exact his revenge on Thera and her Army, Elgar had looked forward to returning home with Thera and Odessa's heads tied to his saddle, but now Elgar had the disturbing, uneasy feeling there would come no time for a bloody battle today.
     "ARMY!?" here the man began to laugh telling his beloved General with his last few breaths. "My Lord! The city is in ruins.., the walls destroyed by fire, rubble and ash, there is nothing.., no one.., no more!" the brave soldier looked into the dark eyes of General Elgar, whom he was proud to serve, and die for, he smiled and said "There is nothing left of the city, the streets, houses, stables, the palace.., all empty! No bodies, no blood, no bones. The rumors we have heard.., must be true.., for I found this sitting upon the ancient throne." pointing to his leather bag he took one last look up at the leaves of the trees rustling over his head in the cool salty breeze, he could hear the far off sound of the surf and he wished he were swimming in the peaceful ocean right now.., the terror he had witnessed, humans being eaten alive, the crunch of bones, the roar of hungry, bloodthirsty tigers, and the screams of dying men, he prayed his death would bring an end to this day and the pain inflicted upon his body and mind.
     General Elgar called for the bag, and as his brave and honorable battle scout bled to death before him, he slowly, carefully pulled a heavy object from out of the camel skin saddle bag. A gasp came up from his warriors gathered 'round him that cold, windswept day, for they all recognized the bronze war helmet right away.
     "Spartans!" came a cry from the captain of the guards.
     General Elgar peered into the empty eyes of the cold helmet his mind a whirlwind of unanswered questions and there in the dappled sunlight he saw something etched in Greek writing, inside the well crafted battle armament. It simply read, in bold letters.., King Vyakles of Sparta

No comments:

Post a Comment