A God's Mercy (Apollo x OC)

Chapter 15

They arrived at Port Tiganï later that evening. Just as Leida said, it was a small town, but for all of that it was a pleasant one. When Melantriche imagined what it might be like, she pictured a handful of straw huts and pig pens—the portrait lifestyle of primitive Spartans. However, there were a few houses of real brick, just like it had been in Athens. They even had little pathways that wound around each other, making it seem like more of a live-in maze than a village. Even later during the day, there was quite a lot of hustle and bustle. Little boys chased each other around in the streets with sticks, squealing in excitement. A few women were gathered around the local well, gossiping in hushed voices as they hoisted water in a small wooden bucket. A small market sprouted in the main alleyway, and on the dusty mud steps, hundreds of stalls. The group first passed a fish kiosk which had slimy squids on the rack, their tentacles still coiling slowly around the harsh air as if to grasp their fading lives. A bearded man shouting about the freshly-caught bass, whilst his young slave boy sat nearby on a rickety stool, his sullen face hardening as he focused on gutting the catch, using a small machete-like knife to slice off the scales. This was about the same with the others: local herbs and spices brought in from neighboring docks poured into small terra-cotta pots, colorful tapestries with strange rainbowed stories weaved into them, and then there were cages filled with animals Melantriche had heard about, but never seen. She was astounded to find that turtles were much grumpier-looking than she'd expected, perhaps because they were prisoners.
There was a relatively large dock beyond a cluster of small huts, where little fishing boats were coming in for the night. Men strode on the boardwalk. They came in pairs, or triplets mostly, juggling small coins and howling in laughter to each other about some ribald joke that Melantriche couldn't understand. If she hadn't been so anxious, she would've been amazed. She'd never seen a port before. Even now, tickets were being sold in a wooden booth on one of the docks—to another place that Melantriche did not know.

As if to read her mind, Aglaia said, "The family I served is surely a still 'round here. In the center of the town, in a big mansion, if I'm not mistaken. They'll house us for tonight."
With that, they started off into heart of the foreign abyss, straight into the marketplace. And Melantriche couldn't help but wish that they hadn't, for it was ultimate torture to be dragged by the hand when she could've been taking in all the luxuries that she hadn't knew even existed. Even so, in the midst of curiosity, as well as exhaustion and grief, she was still in her right mind to do as she was told. Besides, Aegeus still trailed behind them like a shadow.
Although, despite the silence between the 3 being heavenly, it left Melantriche to think of a lot of worrying questions that would likely be left unanswered. When they arrived to their host's house, would they be believed to be who they said they were, or would they be turned away? Melantriche couldn't blame them, with their filthy peasant clothes and their ratty hair. Perhaps that was what the gold was for. But what if even that weren't convincing? Rather, they would be accused of stealing! Would they be punished badly? Even if this worked, what would they think? There had to be an explanation as to why they would show up in such a vulgar demeanor, and what would their excuse be? Some wench running away from the wrath of the gods, not willing to accept the consequences of her family's hubris? Even with reward, they'd turn her away for sure! And even still, it never would have worked out in the first place because even with Lyra and her disguise, she and Melantriche were 2 very different physiques! How could Father think this stupid plan was going to work? How could he?

She couldn't have been sure that it had been just her that felt the time exercised to find this mansion was becoming excessive, but she was relieved to see that it wasn't. It seemed that they were going in circles and, seeing how every corner of town seemed completely identical, Melantriche couldn't really blame Aglaia. But despite the orange sun sinking rather quickly, she thanked fate in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, this was an opportunity for her to slip away... but Melantriche was patient. Just a few minutes, she thought. A few more minutes, maybe 5, and then they would stop. Surely, especially between master and a servant, that was enough? Hopefully they would stay lost until then. She didn't want to go. Didn't want to leave Athens, didn't want to do anything. She hadn't much time regardless.

As for Aglaia, she seemed to be getting even more and more anxious. And the more anxious she was, the more impertinent she was.

"I swear I remember where it is, Lady," she snapped to herself, although no one had said anything yet. Perhaps it was that she could feel Aegeus' irritated eyes burning into her frail back. "Surely I'm not going senile?" She muttered to herself, wiping some sweat from her brow as she increased her pace. "Surely I'm not!"

Melantriche need not say the word, for it was Aegeus who finally spoke up, "Sure you aren't playing games with us, old woman?"

Aglaia whirled around, her eyes scrunching into black slits. "Don't accuse me so! I served this family for many-a year! Surely my memory can't be that impaired."

Aegeus sneered and opened his mouth to retort, but a loud yawn escaped Melantriche's own. She chimed in, "But we've been going in circles now. And I'm tired. I don't want to go on anymore."

Aglaia's wrinkles deepened, her teeth set in. "You say you don't want to. We don't want to either, but there's no choice. We must."

"But I don't want to." Melantriche complained. "It's so hot and it's getting dark. The mosquitoes are already out, and you've only gone and gotten us lost. Who's own fault is that, that you can't do just one job right? I suppose an incompetent slave is one that's no good."

Even though it made her feel bad to say such things, Melantriche was glad she did. It was like magic words; Aglaia's wrinkled face went nearly slack-jawed, her already brown-burned face going red with humiliation, and suddenly she wasn't so menacing anymore. A mixture of laughter and pity bubbled up inside her.

"I refuse to go any further," Melantriche continued, her young back going taut with obstinacy. "You should find our new hosts, Algaia, if you know the way so well. You can come back to get us when you've found it."

"But, I—,"

"I don't want to hear anymore." Melantriche said, feeling as if her voice had turned to cold stone. "Go away already."

For a moment, the old woman stood there, her eyes poisonous. Then she slithered down the alleyway like a loathsome snake, her tail between her legs. When she was out of sight, Melantriche plopped herself down onto a nearby set of stairs. Sighing with relief, she slouched as she took the time to crack her aching bones, brush the grime off her feet, and then she simply sat there, taking in the evening air. Silently, she smiled bitterly. It was a fascinating place, really. If only Lyra were here to enjoy it with her. And then she put her head between her knees and suddenly cried, choking on her quick breaths that shocked her and tried to wipe away the waterfalls that fell stubbornly, helplessly down her cheeks.

"At least there's something to clean my face, hm?" She sputtered jokingly, but Aegeus said nothing, only stared, and it made her feel even more embarrassed. Really, she felt stupid like this. For a moment it felt as if she'd never stop crying, but when she struck the side of her head and sucked up a breath obstinately, the tears stopped as fast as they came. Then, calmly, she stood with an effortful grace and smiled calmly at her bodyguard.

"It's boring to sit here. Take me to see the market."

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Ahhhhh I'm sorry for not updating for a while! I really had to think about what I wanted for this part of the book cuz I revised it. Also my writing style for this book felt too cheesy, like Melantriche was a Mary-Sue whose opinions were too modern for this era, so I've edited some of the story as well. Just know that all my other books besides my CPBS, "Faucet", and "Prophecia Dementia" are on hiatus. It's much too hard to do all of them at once, but I'm going to try to write more often now, so look forward to that.