The Sullen Face of a Forgotten God

CHAPTER SEVEN

She must have fallen asleep again, this time falling into a slumber without dreams but awoke with a start when she heard shouting. They were coming from the upper deck. One of them sounded like the captain, the other sounded like a much younger man, whose voice was not entirely unfamiliar.
"Boy, you will do as you're told," the captain snapped. "When I ask you to do the cooking, I demand you do the cooking!"
"But the galley is filthy!" the other person exclaimed. "I saw rats in there. I won't do it, I tell you, I won't!"
"Perhaps," the captain sneered, "I shall make a meal of you to the sharks and find another cook. It won't be that hard!"
There was a silence and then a sigh. "Fine," the other person grunted and she heard stamping feet move towards the galley. Pure curiosity drove her to see who it was. She moved towards the door and opened it a crack after she was certain the footsteps had moved past. She carefully opened the cabin door all the way to see who the person was, however, she could only see the back of the person as he trudged off down the deck, muttering to himself. She turned to her other side and found herself staring straight into the captain's eyes.
"Hello," she murmured, uncertainly.
"What do you want?" he demanded in response.
"I felt sick," Miriam stammered. "I needed to get some air."
The captain rolled his eyes. "Fine then," he sighed. " I guess if you need to puke your guts out it's better to do it in the water than on my ship!"
Miriam pulled her hood down even lower as she watched the captain move off in the same direction the cook had gone. Surely, she thought to herself, he must realise I'm not a boy. The thought upset her. If that were the case, would he....no, no, she must not think of that. She shut the door behind her and moved up to the railing, so she could get a clear view of the ocean.
They were well out to sea now. There was not a trace of land on the horizon. The thought was disconcerting, yet it came with a feeling of elation such as she had never known. To know this kind of freedom was completely frightening and exhilarating at the same time. What a strange mix of emotions, she thought.
"I'm sure the very thought of going back to that Temple is the last thing on your mind." She turned with a start and found herself seeing Cronos. She glared at him.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Not the warmest response I've had but it will do." He swung his feet across the railing so that he was sitting cross legged on it like a small child eagerly awaiting a lesson. The gods knew how he kept his balance, she thought.
"Well, my dear, you see, I am not actually here. My image is but the rest of me is elsewhere. My spiritual self is conversing with you but my physical presence is....sleeping if you will." Cronos responded.
"I don't understand," she said wearily. "I'm sick of the way you are always reading my mind. And I'm sick of the way you are always appearing whenever you want to. What about last night? You had suddenly disappeared and I had to fend for myself."
"My dear, I do have other things to consider," Cronos smiled. "As much as you'd like to think, you're not the only person I have to think about it. But if you're going to be nasty, then I'll leave. There is somebody on this contraption that passes for a boat that I think you should meet. He will help you with your quest to find the stone. Remember that is the most important thing."
"I've already met the captain, thank you very much," Miriam said icily. "And I'd like to avoid him, if it's all the same to you."
"Not him," Cronos waved a hand dismissively. "He's beneath contempt. There is another. I believe you've already met him." With a flash, he disappeared.
Miriam looked about her, startled. Was she to spend the rest of her days looking for Cronos, trying to understand why he always seemed to leave at the most crucial times?
She decided to return to her sleeping quarters. There was no just no other way of dealing with things. The idea of exploring the ship seemed boring now. Yes, sleep would be best.
Grudgingly, she made her way back to the cabin. It was funny, she suddenly realized, but apart from the captain and the cook, there didn't seem to be another soul on the boat beside herself. Perhaps all the sailors were sleeping, she thought to herself. But if that were the case, shouldn't there still have been others on this boat, manning it or steering or something?
She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder which made her jump and gasp, in that order. "Cronos!" she snapped. "If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, don't do that!"
"I'm sorry I don't think I'm who you think I am," a voice sang out. "I'm someone else. Or, a better way of putting it would be, I'm me but I can be the person you think you want me to be but once you get to know me, perhaps you will prefer the person I am, as opposed to the person you think I should be or could be."
"What?" Miriam turned and looked at the face of a grinning boy who looked vaguely familiar. He sounded a lot like the cook who'd been arguing with the captain earlier, but he looked even more familiar still. Then she remembered. "You're the gipsy boy from the market place!" she blurted, realising too late how rude that sounded.
He smiled and made an elaborate bow, which wasn't altogether mocking but wasn't altogether sincere. "Pericles, at your service, my lady," he said, with perhaps a hint of sarcasm.
"Is Pericles your real name?" Miriam demanded. "You sure don't seem like an Athenian."
He raised an eyebrow. "Well, Miriam is a pretty funny name for an Athenian. Are you sure it's an Athenian name?"
Miriam shrugged her shoulders. "The captain thinks I'm a boy called Aristophanes," she smiled. "He is pretty stupid, to say the least."
Pericles looked her up and down. "You really think he's fallen for that," he asked with a grin. "You hardly look like a boy."
Miriam glared at him and then changed the subject. "What are you doing on this boat anyway?" she asked.
Pericles grinned again. "I needed an adventure. I can never stay in the same place for long. And what about you? Running away from something?"
Miriam stared at him with a start. "What makes you say that?" she demanded.
"Nothing," Pericles smiled. "You just seem....well, nervous and irritable. Pretending to be a boy is also a dead giveaway."
While Miram frowned on this, thinking this boy is way too clever for his own good, he leaned over and dropped a kiss on her cheek. He laughed at her shocked expression.
"I just wanted to say goodbye," he laughed. "I will see you soon on this leaky boat, I'm sure, my pretty boy!" His voice dropped to a whisper and turned serious. "Just make sure you never get caught alone with the captain. He likes boys but he likes girls, too. He doesn't care what you are, as long as you are young and pretty. And a virgin, too. Being a virgin helps. You are a virgin, aren't you?" He laughed again and the seriousness seemed to melt away like snow under a hot sun. And he walked away, before she could dare to think of a decent comeback.
Were all men this rude? She thought with disgust. First there was Cronos and now, Pericles. Who did they think they were, speaking to her in this way? She would have to let them know that they had no right to treat her like that and shrugged her shoulders, resignedly. Was there really any point? Men – immortal or otherwise – were very confusing creatures.
Miriam spent little time worrying about men after that particular conversation. In the days and weeks that followed, the boat encountered a restless ocean, which sent vicious waves slapping it, as if it were a naughty child being punished by its mother. Miriam spent most of her time in her cabin and what little food she could consume, she merely brought back up again. Pericles did try to help her when he could, but he seemed to have his own problems. He was often distracted and if she weren't feeling so very sick, she would have wondered what the problem was.
One night, she dreamt that a great golden palace was under attack and that soldiers everywhere were being cut down. She could hear the dying groans of the men and wondered wearily why it was that she could never help those who were in great need and had to simply stand, like a fool, in the shadows. Then she saw, to her horror, a soldier with a golden mask, which was surely the personification of death itself, rush straight toward her, his great sword dripping with the blood of the newly dead.
"Ahhh!" she cried and sat up in her bunk, drenched with sweat. Of course; another nightmare.
"Shhh, go to sleep, you need to rest," a voice soothed from the darkness. In her delirium, she turned towards the sound. "Cronos?" she asked.
"No, it's Pericles," the voice answered, and she saw his face emerge from the darkness. "Who's Cronos? You must be very sick to be seeing people who aren't here. Drink this, it will make you feel better." He produced a flask.
She looked at it. "What it is?' she demanded, wearily.
"Herbs, a bit bitter but I've sweetened it with honey, so it won't be so bad. It really will help you sleep as well as settle your stomach. You must have something." His eyes flashed but his smile was welcoming.
She took the flask and swallowed its contents down. The sweetness of honey, overpowering a bitter undertone. Suddenly, her vision doubled and she slumped down in her bunk, falling into a dreamless sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, it felt much later but she couldn't be sure. The boat was being tossed around in an even more aggressive ocean, yet she felt calm and serene. Something had to be done about this ocean. It was too rough for her liking. She walked out on deck and saw that nobody was there. Where was Pericles? Where was the captain? Why weren't there any sailors? Why hadn't she seen any on this boat since the beginning of the trip?
The waves were getting higher and higher. Soon, she wouldn't be able to keep her grip on the railing. She would tumble into the ocean and perhaps hold court with Poseidon at the bottom of the sea.
She shook herself. "Enough!" she snapped. "Do you hear me Poseidon? Enough!"
Still the ocean tossed and swayed, oblivious to her cries.
"Hear my pleas, Poseidon!" Miriam called out even louder. "Hear me, O god of the sea! I demand you stop this at once! Must the gods always make sport of mortals?"
The ocean seemed to subside a bit but didn't stop.
"I am a child of Earth, Poseidon!" Miriam cried out. "A child of Earth, which came from the sea. All life came from the sea. Do you now demand that what you have given to Earth, you must take back?"
A voice which was all powerful, all knowing, seemed to fill her head. She felt a flood of warmth course through her veins, causing her heart to pound. What was the sensation? Something indescribable. It was as if the force of a thousand lives was being fed into her body at once. She had never felt more alive and yet she knew that her body, would not able to withstand the force anymore. She would die, if she allowed this to continue. It would be as if a twig had snapped in the breeze. And yet the sensation was nothing short of exhilarating. And then the voice which filled her head spoke:
"You are fearless, child. And foolish. You know you cannot command me!"
"I am a servant of your niece, Pallas Athena. I request you stop this storm at once!" Miriam said with a boldness that surprised her. The vision that met her eyes at that moment was breathtaking.
For there stood the god in all his splendour; taller than the tallest buildings. His very essence was the ocean itself. He spoke in a deep voice, which rumbled like thunder.
"You are an interesting mortal indeed. Whoever heard of one who could speak to the immortals as you have? I shall reward you child, for your boldness. I shall stop this storm."
He lifted his trident at these words, waved it once over the ocean and the waves ceased. Then he bent towards her until they were almost eye to eye. She began to breathe heavily as she looked into the god's eyes. Without warning, tears fell from her eyes and she didn't know why.
He smiled at her then – at least she thought he did- and with his great finger touched her throat. She gasped as she felt a tingling sensation. Then she felt a necklace around her neck. Suspended from a gold chain, hung a turquoise stone. She looked up at him, disbelieving.
"Your gift," Poseidon intoned. "The Jewel of the Sea. Protect it and it will protect you."
Then he disappeared, back into the ocean from where he came. The sea was now calm and she wondered if perhaps she had dreamt it all. This was nothing like talking to Cronos. But the weight of the necklace remained where it was and she knew that somehow it were true.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped. Turning her head, she saw Pericles looking at her in all seriousness.
"Where did you come from?" demanded Miriam.
Pericles didn't respond but looked at the necklace she was wearing. "So beautiful," he said. "You just put it on?"
Miriam looked at him and said nothing.
Pericles turned and stared at the calm ocean. "How weird," he said. "The sea is so calm. Was very sudden, really. It's as if a giant hand poured oil on the water and everything went still. Not a breath of wind." He turned to look at her again.
Miriam shrugged. "I have heard that these things sometimes happen," she said off handedly. "Sailors have told stories of storms vanishing as quickly as they have appeared. It isn't that strange."
"Quite the sailor, now are we?" Pericles asked.
Miriam tried to laugh it off but he remained serious and unsmiling. She shrugged again. "Where were you?" she asked.
"In the galley." His face suddenly broke into a grin. "Trying to beat off the rats."
They both laughed then and the tension broke.
"Where is our friend the captain?" she asked.
Pericles pulled a face. "Beats me. Maybe he got washed overboard."
"But who will run this ship?" Miriam asked. "I mean...."
"We'll figure it out. I'm sure it won't be that hard." They began walking towards the cabins.
"You are an amazing girl," Pericles said suddenly. "I mean that."
Miriam looked at him and then she laughed again. However, the laugh died as she saw the seriousness on his face.
"I don't what to say," she responded.
He looked away and said nothing.
"I should thank you," Miriam said. "For helping me with that brew....whatever it was.  I think the seasickness has gone for good."
"You just got your sea legs," Pericles said. "The seasickness was natural, you'd never been on a boat before. The potion may have settled your stomach but you would've ended up feeling better, eventually. It just speeded things up."
"Well, thanks anyway," Miriam repeated. "You took care of me when I was sick. It was very kind...."
"I have to go," Pericles interrupted. He began to walk away but then, as if remembering something, turned to look at her. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he mumbled and walked away quickly.
Miriam said nothing. Men were indeed complex creatures. She began to examine her necklace instead.