Domain of Power-The Dreamer (Book 3)

Chapter 2: Storm Clouds

The foamy waves ebbed in and out, stealing bits of sand before spitting out what the sea discarded. The tides told the story of restless waters. It was the sea that teemed with life yet in an instance claimed the lives of souls into its watery deep. It would intertwine the lives of many men in a loop with no end that flowed seamlessly like the waves. The familiar sounds of waves crashing against the beach were followed by the groans of men in constant movement. A large cargo ship bobbed in the waves as the last anchors were loosened. The captain shouted orders to the men who were carrying the amphorae into the cargo hold.

"All aboard the ship," the captain announced. With nods from the crew, the stout captain assumed his position on top of the deckhouse. As the collective sea of heads bobbed in agreement, nobody seemed to notice a man on horseback approaching the dock.

"Wait, you are not to be departing today," he shouted, before jumping off the horse. He ran up the ramp to face the befuddled looks of the crew. "There must have been a mistake," he said, panting.

"What is the meaning of this?" the captain muttered. He stepped back down onto the deck.

"Oh captain you have to hear me out please. You are not delegated to leave the island nor are this crew. There is a letter from the king that the docks are to be closed today."

"And who are you? His Messenger?" he scoffed.

"Why yes," he answered briskly. "They have reported rough waves at the lighthouse five miles south of Cyrene's port. It is best to ground the ships till the weather is fair." The captain looked past the Messenger and went on with his commands to loosen the anchors.

"Did you not hear a word I said? Look at the clouds for yourself." The captain rolled his eyes and looked up at the cloudy skies looming over the southern horizon.

"You do not understand! We have planned this venture for some time. If we catch the trade winds we can make it to Ephesus in no time. We can even get there before the storm starts."

"Just wait it out. Please. There is no need to go against the storm," he said in a pleading tone. All eyes were on the captain.

"I have sailed through several storms in my time and I never lost a soul. Why do you doubt me now!" he snapped.

"What do you want me to tell the king? That you defied his mandate!"

"Well, this letter from the king earlier denotes otherwise," the captain said flapping the parchment in his face. "Besides this cargo cannot wait much longer. We must keep our promises." With that he ordered a chest to be brought before the Messenger. A slave opened the wooden chest. Golden coins filled to the brim.

"Think about it," said the captain with a crooked grin.

******

His limp body rested on the couch with limbs hanging loosely over the sides. The man gazed sadly at the pallor face of his grandson that the oil lamp illuminated.

"I wish you could hear me Troy. I know you are alive in there," he said, heaving a sigh.

"He could not hear you father," Acropolus said bitterly. "I have sought to protect this sovereign island nation, but I failed to protect my own son. He is my youngest. Apollus is all I have now since Barbarius is lost at sea," he said, shaking his head.

A female slave entered into the atrium from the left wing. Her curls spilled over her shoulders as she stopped to give a slight bow. "Dinner is ready my lord."

"I have no appetite for any of it," the King replied swiftly.

"Your Excellency, what about the dinner party for tomorrow?"