The Villain of Ancient Greece

As night fell, the underworld moon rose into the sky, casting its cold, pale light across the courtyard.

Accompanied by the soft creak of the door opening and closing,

Thetis inside the room hurriedly stuffed the book she had been holding under her pillow, then rose with feigned composure and asked.

”You are back?”

Lorne gave a quiet nod, stepped inside, and glanced at the two characters on the cover, blinking with a mild surprise. ”Oh? You enjoy this one too?”

Thetis gave a light cough and replied in an even tone. ”Just something to pass the time.”

”Ah...” Lorne drew out the syllable, his gaze drifting over the frequently dog-eared pages, a subtle smile surfacing in his eyes. ”For it to occupy your precious time, it seems you think rather well of this book.”

”It is acceptable...” Thetis glanced at her companion, whose expression was edging toward teasing, and lifted the book without the least embarrassment and gave it a small shake, humming softly. ”If only the author did not update so slowly, at its current thickness it would be perfectly suited for propping up a table leg.”

But as she spoke, perhaps because the motion had been too broad, a sheet of sheepskin parchment slipped from between the pages and drifted to the floor.

Several lines of neat, handwritten text caught Lorne’s eye immediately.

’Noble son of the gods! You shine like sunlight,

Walk to the shore, and sing aloud to the tide,

Pour your voice of joy into the sacred deep,

Your place of stillness lies there, far from the clamor of ships,

Hidden beneath the waves, in a peaceful grotto.

There dwells azure Thetis, this goddess of the sea, who shelters you.

She is the dear companion of verse and wine, nymph of wisdom,

Who once upon the reef stones tenderly raised up Dionysos in his peril,

And to the sound of the gentle song of waves, opened her arms to his weariness...’

.....

Thetis lunged forward with the speed of a thunderbolt, snatched the parchment from the floor, shoved it back into the book at lightning speed, and tucked it under the pillow.

The entire sequence flowed without a single pause, smooth and seamless.

But even without reading to the end, Lorne already knew every remaining line of that poem by heart.

Because he had written it himself.

More precisely, it was a work of shameless plagiarism and alteration, modeled after the poem Hyperion’s Son by the classical Romantic poet Holderlin, which he had adapted for his own purposes.

And the reason for doing so was to record the confrontation on the island of Kypros between Lykourgos, king of Thrake, and the god Dionysos, weaving it into the Hieroi Logoi with a favorable artistic embellishment.

After all, the original verse on that encounter in the future Iliad painted him in a rather unflattering light.

’For he it was who drove the nurses of raving Dionysos

Down the sacred slopes of Nysa,

And all their thyrsoi were scattered upon the ground,

Struck down by man-slaying Lykourgos with his ox-goad.

And Dionysos in terror plunged beneath the sea waves,

And Thetis received him in her bosom as he trembled,

For mighty fear had seized him at the man’s shout...’

However, because he had inserted too much of his own agenda, and also needed to give a favorable gloss to his own rather unscrupulous behavior in dragging a respectable goddess into his schemes, Lorne had accidentally pulled the poem’s tone in the wrong direction, lending that first encounter between him and Thetis a distinctly ambiguous coloring.

At the time he had been thinking about recruiting the sea goddess and leaving a conveniently entangling paper trail, making it harder for her to turn on him midway.

So Lorne had simply gone along with the mistake and added this ode to what was ostensibly a poem about their friendship.

But times had changed.

After everything they had been through together, the bond between them had long since grown solid and had taken on a subtle chemistry of its own.

Accordingly, the poem’s original underhanded implications seemed, the more one turned them over, to carry a meaning that felt increasingly off.

On the surface a hymn to friendship. Underneath, something more like a declaration of love.

The answer surfaced in Lorne’s mind and he felt a faint, involuntary ache in his stomach.

Uh...

He now seemed to understood why Thetis was willing to risk coming with him to the underworld to find Adonis’s soul.

”Ahem. To the matter at hand.” Thetis cleared her throat softly and broke the silence in the room.

Then she carefully stepped to the door, peered through the crack into the darkened courtyard, confirmed no one was about, gently closed the door, set a warding seal, and turned back to her companion. ”Outside. What is the situation?”

”Not ideal. The way out has been sealed off. Hypnos and the three Erinyes (Furies) are heading up the watch.” Lorne took the cue and looked away, spreading his hands as he laid out the situation for Thetis.

But then, seeing the deep furrow forming between Thetis’s brows, he shifted course. ”The good news, however, is that I have found where Adonis is, and I know the way out of the underworld. Once the heat dies down and the guard outside loosens, we can slip away quietly.”

”That is reasonable. The underworld holds countless Titans, monsters, and sinful souls under lock and keep. It cannot grind to a halt over one or two people for too long.”

Thetis nodded and let out a slow breath, offering a measured assessment. ”So we simply need to lie low here for a while and wait?”

”Exactly.”

”Good. I understand. Go and rest for now.”

Lorne remained where he stood, gave a dry cough, and spoke up.

”There is only one empty room. King Minos had it cleared out in a hurry as a place for us to hide...”

”And Sisyphus?”

”He is being held in the judgment hall’s temporary detention cell.”

”...”

Thetis was at a loss for words.

An unnatural flush rose on her face and her gaze wavered.

Seeing that she had misunderstood the situation, Lorne quickly spoke up. ”Do not worry. I will sleep on the floor, you take the bed. We are fleeing for our lives. It is just making do for a few days. I will not disturb you in the slightest.”

At his assurance, Thetis visibly relaxed, and on her own initiative took out a blanket to lay out a temporary resting place on the floor for this reliable companion of hers.

The night deepened as she lay on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, her gaze drifting down toward the floor from time to time.

The face bathed in moonlight had brows sharp as blades, a straight nose, and eyes now closed in an expression of calm composure and the quiet elegance of a learned man.

The lines of his face were soft and refined, yet beneath the delicate and handsome surface ran a thread of unbridled, unruly spirit that stirred something in the chest.

But...

Thetis stared at him for a long while, then exhaled a quiet, melancholy sigh.

”What is it? Something weighing on your mind?” A low and gentle voice drifted through the bedchamber. Lorne, eyes still closed, asked the question.

Evidently he had remained partially alert to his surroundings and had not fully fallen asleep.

So just now...

Thetis realized that her every move had been clearly perceived by the person beside her, and a flush of embarrassed warmth rose unbidden on her beautiful face.

On the floor, Lorne smiled and opened his eyes, turning his head toward the bed.

”If you cannot sleep, why not tell me what is troubling you?”

In the darkness, those two violet eyes gleamed like a pair of translucent gems.

”There is something...” Thetis gave a small nod, but then her tone shifted. ”But you cannot help me with it.”

”How will you know unless you try?” Lorne smiled and countered gently, making a quiet promise. ”Do not worry. Once we are out of the underworld, tell me whatever trouble needs dealing with. I will give you my full support.”

As he spoke, he blinked, his tone edging toward playful. ”After all, I still owe you three favors with nothing paid back yet.”

Yet rather than lifting the heaviness on Thetis’s face even slightly,

Lorne’s teasing only seemed to deepen it.

”But if that trouble is...”

The words cut off as Thetis bit her lip and turned her head away, deflated.

”Never mind. Go to sleep.”

”I will! I will sweep whatever trouble stands in your way clean, no matter who it is!”

The figure on the floor raised a hand and pointed upward, his voice ringing with quiet, unshakable conviction.

”...By the waters of the Styx, I swear it!”

At those solemn words, the still waters of Thetis’s heart stirred with ripple after ripple, and something moved across her face.

Seeing that the shadow between this companion’s brows had been all but dispelled, a faint smile touched the corners of Lorne’s eyes.

What weighed on this sea goddess could only be Zeus’s covetous gaze and the wariness he bore toward her.

Even burdened with the prophecy that her son would surpass his father, she was not safe.

Her marriage might very well be decided by forces other than herself.

It was for this reason that Thetis had been unable to hide her unease after reading that poem.

As for Lorne, putting himself against Zeus was a matter of sooner or later.

One sheep to drive or two, it made little difference.

Since he could not avoid it in any case, he might as well take this opportunity to earn a measure of goodwill with Thetis and set the mind of this sea goddess, who had helped him greatly of late, at ease.

With that thought settled, Lorne stretched out with a contented yawn and closed his eyes. ”Feeling better? Then I am going to sleep.”

”Mm...”

Thetis gave a soft nod, and stopped fighting the drowsiness pulling at her mind, drifting peacefully into slumber.

This time, her sleep was deep and sweet, and her heart was wholly at ease.

The next day, after sharing his customary drinks with King Minos, Lorne walked back into the bedchamber only to find that his floor bedding had been put away at some point.

”Sleep up here.” Thetis, already settled in bed, closed her book, patted the empty space beside her, and spoke of her own accord.

”Ah, I am not sure that is quite appropriate.” Lorne raised an instinctive objection, then added, ”What I mean is, for you...”

Thetis shook her head and replied with complete seriousness. ”Only if you rest properly and keep your strength and focus at their best will you be able to lead us safely out of here.”

”Well. When you put it that way, I suppose that is sound reasoning.”

Under the sea goddess’s earnest persuasion, Lorne gave the matter careful thought for a moment, then yielded gracefully and slipped into the soft, warm bedding on his side.

His side, naturally, being its own separate set of blankets.

The moment Lorne lay down beside her, Thetis felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her, as she closed her eyes serenely and sank quickly into sleep, a faint smile of comfort and ease spreading across her strikingly beautiful face.

It seemed that ever since that night, the man beside her had always given her a peculiar sense of safety, one that had brought a remarkable improvement to the quality of her sleep.

For Lorne, however, the feeling was rather less pleasant.

Torment would not have been too strong a word for it.

Because Thetis had a dreadful habit of clinging in her sleep.

Cocooned in her blanket, she attached herself to him like an octopus, her arms winding tighter and tighter, the smile on her face growing richer and richer, having unmistakably taken him for a human-shaped bolster.

My God...This is going to kill me...

Lorne stared wide-eyed at the ceiling beam above, silently lamenting as he waited for dawn.

He had half-expected this particular fragrant torment to simply go on indefinitely.

But then one day, while sharing their usual drinks together, Lorne watched King Minos walk calmly into what appeared to be an empty bedchamber and emerge carrying two bottles of fine wine.

Lorne could not help himself. ”There is no one in there?”

”Correct.”

”Were we not told there was only one room?”

”I can open ten rooms or eight, all at no charge, with fresh linens included.”

King Minos glanced across at him and asked in an unhurried tone.

”So then, will you be moving in?”

The latter hesitated for a moment, then ultimately shook his head.

”No. I will stay in the same room as before.”

King Minos gave a slight nod, then extended two fingers.

”Twenty jars of divine ambrosia wine. Remember to return them in due course.”

”Huh? Why? Was accommodation not free of charge?”

”Two rooms are free. One room costs you twenty jars.”

The old man raised his cup, took a measured sip, and looked at his young Scribe with a meaningful expression.

”Cunning old fox...” Lorne cursed under his breath, understanding at once that he’d been tricked.

”Or, if you were to marry my two daughters in Athens, I would give you forty jars as a gift.”

”Drink your wine!”

Lorne gave no response to that, gritted his teeth, pulled twenty jars of divine ambrosia wine from his private stores, and promptly changed the subject.

King Minos lifted his freshly filled cup, inwardly heaving a helpless sigh.

This young man was clearly no paragon of conventional virtue himself.

So why was he so reluctant to eat the grass beside his own nest?

The sea nymph sharing his bed in that room was like that.

The ones in Athens were like that too.

It seemed they would have to be more proactive themselves.

After all, the throne of Crete had been sitting empty for quite some time now.

While the father below the earth was quietly muttering to himself, the two princesses on the Areios Pagos hill in Athens both gave a sudden, violent sneeze.

(End of Chapter)