Red Athens 50

Red Athens, by Jacob Malewitz, A Fantasy Novel 100 White Shirt Opti had no sense of surprise when he saw his son enter the throne room. Disappearing princess wounded by assassins, a mark on Calli’s, and not even a flinch from the father. He walked to them, held his son close merely to see into his eyes, and began laughing.             They all took to the strong drink that night. Calli, being Sky Roman, took to it more than the others. His yellow armor became stained whenever he tried to juggle his drinks by hand.             “Delphi,” Knyght whispered, “Why?”             Opti looked to him. “Perhaps because you play with things meant for the gods.”             “You don’t like my choice of career?”          ...

Red Athens By Jacob Malewitz Author of Champions 100 White Shirt                                                             3 Young scholar, Calli may have been smart, Numid and Verce talented, but this hero did many stupid things. The documentation is there, the facts tell the same story. The Pericles line, some said, allowed for failure at the greatest levels. But why would one tell a story without a succeeding hero? Outside the Blue Babylon lines, Calli couldn’t believe it. He watched the Red Athens prince kill a scout, undress him, and say something to the coming winds. It is said, according to the Tellers of Mycenae, much like the minotaurs could hide behind masks, so too could certain men of Dorian blood, the richest line of Greeks. Or so it was said. Pericles sprinkled something—somet...

Hours passed. The guard would walk up and down the gate, looking for something, and when this young poet came upon the records of their escape, and of course they did, it appeared that some powerful force had been brought to bear. In truth, there were two.             “Leonidas did this.”             “Why him?”             “That Green Spartan hates all of Red Athens. He let the mages into his temples, and it is said, even slept with one of the woman. The jews call the child the anti-christ.”             The gate opened. A god stood there. One can tell a god has taken control of the scene when an impossible situation turns into a promising one. What matters here is, the god, small as he was, be Janus.          ...

            He did look like the perfect Free Celt. Born of the Gaul gods, he turned into quite the leader, the best of politicians. The blue paint on his face and arms was only a reminder of the chaos he played with. There is an old saying which sums up the Verce’s people: between a pact of wolves and a Celt, always run towards the wolves.             Calli grunted. “Do you know how to spell your name, son to Chaos?”             “Let us keep magik out of the conversation,” Knyght said, walking away from the impending verbal argument. He understood that, for some reason, he had an easier time making friends outside of his people than inside. He would be willing to lay his life down for these troubled foreigners. Would he do the same for Red Athens? Could he?          ...

Ch 2. A scholar told me of the next events. All one need to know be this: a call to arms was   made, an invasion of the east was planned, and the cross on Knyght’s shoulder screamed of impending disaster. “We should not leave our people to die.” “We shouldn’t; Ionia holds Red Athens citizens.” “It would be a fallacy, father. Green Sparta needs only a second’s edge to take the walls of the city.” “My son, you are smart, but beyond understanding of the big picture. They kill me, I will be hailed as a martyr, the other   isles will gather, the fleet will assemble, and Red Athens is victorious.” “I don’t see it happening like that. One thing all democracies fear is evil.” The father to son chat began much like this. Pericles Opti, a man of indomitable strength, usually agreed with the youngest of his sons. For some reason, the boy had a call to power, but his leadership, the king thought, was as weak as his understanding of math. Tears took to Pericles Knyght’s...