Dance of Blood, page 11
“You always do the impossible. That’s why you’re there, and I’m here.”
“Yes,” he said with an amused frown on his face. “Another one of those ‘Earth things’ I suppose.”
Ares smiled, and then turned to go. “Good day, Father. By the way. The guards at the door. Give them a bonus.”
“Bonus? What the hell is a bonus?” Zeus mumbled as he watched his son walk away. “It must be a small animal, or something.” With that he turned quickly, went to his wife’s animal pens and saw two white puppies playing. He picked them up and took them to the guards. “Here,” he said as he put the wiggly puppies in their arms. “Here’s your bonus.”
When Zeus left, the two guards looked down at the dogs, and then gave each other a questioning gaze.
* * * *
The next day, a knock sounded on Ares’ suite. Being a little apprehensive, he slowly opened the door to a very young man with a scroll in his hand.
“Cato Mendez?”
“Yes.”
“A message from Jequan of The Ekho.”
“Oh, yes, thank you.”
Ares grabbed the scroll, flipped the boy a drachma, and closed the door. He began unrolling the scroll with nervous fingers, and read that the Ekho would be anchored on the North side of the Tuatha Sea in eight hours.
Ares knew that this was it. He threw the scroll aside and ran to Christopher’s suite and softly called out, “Christopher, it’s Ares.”
“Christopher opened the door, looking right and left to make sure no one was watching them, and then he widened the door for Ares to come in.
“It’s time,” Ares said when he walked in. “I’ve received a message that the Ekho is going to be anchored on the North side of the Tuatha Sea.”
“I got a message as well,” Christopher said, and nodded toward it lying on the bed. “I’ve been summoned to the temple to prepare for the entertainment at the feast.”
“Right,” Ares said, pacing and looking nervous.
“What’s wrong?”
“The closer it gets the more nervous I become.”
“Why? Haven’t you fought battles your whole life?”
“I’m not afraid for myself, it’s you, Christopher. God, how I wish I hadn’t gotten you into this.”
“Ares, stop this. You didn’t get me into anything. I came because I thought you might need me, and you did. I’m going to dance like I’ve never danced before.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“The Dance of Blood.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”
“It’s a new one. We were in rehearsals, but I never got to perform it at the club.”
“What about the pole dance? I liked that.”
“If I can find a prop that’ll work, maybe.” Christopher smiled. “This doesn’t seem like the kind of conversation we should be having on the eve of a war.”
“Well, I have to go,” Ares said, making a move to pull Christopher into his arms and kiss him goodbye.
Christopher pulled away. “You know a kiss always leads to something more. We have to be strong, Ares. It means our lives.”
“You’re right, of course. Well,” he said as he walked toward the door. “Good luck with your dance. I’ll be thinking of you.”
“Keep your mind off of me, and on what you’re doing.”
Ares smiled. “One thing I’ve figured out. You can’t be a warrior and be in love at the same time.”
Christopher felt a tingle dance up his spine, and wondered if Ares was aware he’d just confessed his love for him.
* * * *
Ares had left, and it was only a few minutes later that another knock came on Christopher’s door. He opened it to a big mean-looking man with a scar on his face. He was dressed in a tunic with armor over it.
“You are Christopher Locke?”
Christopher nodded since he was a little stunned by the man’s appearance, and couldn’t speak.
“I am called Bastiaan. I am to escort you to the temple.”
“Uh…yes, I’m ready.”
“You are to come with me,” Bastiaan said, and stepped aside to let Christopher pass.
Christopher hesitantly walked into the corridor with the man who looked like he’d just stepped out of a horror movie, but when they began walking, suddenly Bastiaan leaned toward him, and asked softly, “Do you want a puppy?”
* * * *
The moment Christopher walked into the banquet room, he could smell food being prepared from a nearby kitchen. Musical instruments were being tuned in the background, and someone was singing a scale. The first thing he needed were props, so he looked around until he found a small chamber in back where he found a large piece of red material he knew he could use as the blood in his dance. He even saw a giant-sized pole, and tried it in case he had to do his pole dance. The only thing was, he had no makeup. For that he went into the kitchen and looked around, but all he could find was oil. He was passing by the dressing table of one of the performers and saw a box of glitter. He looked around to make sure he wasn’t being watched, and quickly grabbed it. After he had found all he needed, he went to a great hall where he could rehearse his dance.
Here too was a problem. He had no music. Since there was nothing he could do about it, he knew he would have to try and manage without it. So, striking a pose, he closed his eyes and listened to the music in his head, and went through the motions.
He felt the music.
Remembered every step of the choreography.
Glided into every phase of his dance.
As he dipped and swayed, he told the story of his dance until it came time for his death scene. With the sleight of hand of a magician, he managed to unfurl the red material which depicted his blood, and rolled it out to the bonging death music he could hear in his head. As his blood spread across the stage, he lowered his head and died.
“That is very good,” a voice from the side called out.
Christopher looked up and saw a man watching him. “Thank you. I didn’t know anyone was watching.”
“Will you be doing that tonight?”
“Yes.”
“But I know everyone in our group, and you’re not one of us. Who are you?”
“My name is Christopher. No, I’m not one of you. I was asked by Zeus to dance tonight.”
“I see. Being asked by Zeus is quite an honor.”
“Yes, I guess so. By the way, who are you?”
“I am Dimitri, one of the temple dancers. We often entertain during one of these feasts.” Dimitri looked curious as he asked, “What is your kind of dance called? I have noticed that it is quite different than ours.”
“It’s Modern.”
“Modern? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”
“Well, it’s all the rage in—” He stopped himself quickly. “In…in Olympus.”
“Do you mind if we use some of your moves?”
“Not at all,” Christopher said, feeling flattered. “The dance is imperfect though.”
“Why is that? I thought it was excellent.”
“I don’t have my music with me, and the musicians don’t know it. I can perform it without the music, which is what you saw, but it won’t be nearly as good.”
“Does it have to be your music? The musicians are very good. If you can give them the tone of your dance, I’m sure they can capture the mood and give you what you want.”
“I guess I could try that. Do you think they would be willing to rehearse with me before the performance?”
“I don’t see why not. Just ask. All they can do is say no.” Dimitri’s smile was wide and friendly.
Christopher returned his smile. “Thanks very much. I’ll be sure to ask them.”
Dimitri put out his arm, and Christopher clasped it. “Well, good luck, my friend,” the man said. “You are an excellent dancer.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent with Christopher rehearsing with the musicians. By the time it was over he was very excited. They were indeed good, and since the dance was one that told a story of peril, the musicians used the drums to simulate danger. They lent a dark tone to the dance that he hadn’t had before.
When it was over, and he walked among them wiping his face with a towel, he voiced his appreciation to all of them. “I want to thank you all very much for helping me. I know it’s going to be very good.
“Have you found everything you need?” someone asked.
“Yes. Everything but how to simulate wind.”
“Wind? Is that all you need?”
“Yes. Why?”
“There’s some kind of wind contraption in the prop room. It’s not used much. If you need it, you’ll have to get someone to pedal it for you.”
“A wind machine that needs to be pedaled? Really?”
“Sure. Just look under a few things. You’ll find it.”
“Hot diggity!” Christopher mumbled.
“What?”
“Oh…uh, nothing.” He hesitated a moment, and then said, “One more thing. Could I get someone to help me with it?”
When Christopher saw a couple of the men lay their instruments aside and come toward him, it looked as if things were beginning to come together. He fervently hoped it was a good sign that victory was on its way.
Chapter 13
Ares was ready.
He dressed in rags on the street so he wouldn’t be recognized, and had just come from scouting out Ottus’ lair. He held the diagrams of his weapons in his right hand and ran into the Ancient House to lay out a plan for his warriors.
Now, standing before them, he began shouting out his plan of action in bringing the enemy down, but he got no response. Instead of jumping to obey his orders, they looked at him as if he were crazy.
“What the hell is wrong with you men?” Ares shouted when they stood around looking at him, and at each other.
Finally, someone shouted out, “Who are you?”
In that moment it dawned on Ares that they didn’t know him. Looking down at his clothes, he realized that all they saw was a man in ragged clothes, disheveled hair hanging down in his face from a funny looking tail in the back. Moving quickly, he pulled at his clothes, and yanked the leather out of his hair so it would come tumbling down, and stood before them.
“It’s me, men.”
“Is that Ares?” He heard someone ask.
“Oh, my God, it is. It’s Ares!”
Suddenly he was overrun by yelling men who grabbed him, and put him upon their shoulders, and rode him around the room, different ones shouting.
“It’s Ares!”
“Ares is back!”
“Our hero is back!”
“He will save us!”
“He will defeat the enemy! It will be his biggest victory yet!”
After a small celebration, when Ares gave them instructions, the men moved with lightning speed, and carried out every order that Ares gave them.
They finished just as the banquet in the Palaestra was getting started.
* * * *
On large cushions Zeus and Dagon reclined next to each other. The table before them was low to the floor, and had individual dishes of dewberry, wild gooseberry fruit, and goblets of Kallu wine. Slowly the serving girls brought out steaming platters of delicious smelling pheasant to begin their meal, and then sea bass, cuttlefish, and gray and red mullet surrounded by anchovies. To round out the meal, there was a large goose stuffed with cress, garlic and leeks. Pomegranates, bergamot oranges, and grapes made a very festive and colorful fruit bowl. The feast was surely fit for a king.
“I am pleased that you seem to have come to your senses and requested this so-called respite so we could discuss our differences regarding Olympus.”
“I am not an unreasonable man, Dagon. I’m sure we can come to some kind of understanding regarding this uprising against my throne.”
“Well,” Dagon began while holding the leg of the large goose in his hand and stripping the flesh off with his teeth. “Your throne will be mine someday, Zeus. If you were a reasonable man, you would admit that.”
“Reasonable men, like nice men, good guys, and fools, finish last, Dagon, and I am not so ‘nice’ that I will give up my throne just yet. I may be willing to cease fighting long enough to discuss the issue, but I still have a trick or two up my sleeve.”
“You know you have lost, Zeus. Why don’t you just admit that I am a shrewd player in this game of strength between us? All it took was a few well-chosen words in your ear, and Ares was gone. If I may so, Zeus, that was a stupid move on your part. With your God of War gone, you were left defenseless. I simply took advantage of his absence and stole Olympus from right under your nose. You may as well know. I plan to destroy all of Olympus and rebuild my own city.” He laughed heartily. “Nothing you can say in this so-called truce can change my mind about that. If you would admit it, you would agree that it was a smart move. But I suppose preparing this sumptuous banquet for me is enough.”
“I will admit one thing, Dagon. I admire cunning in a man when I see it, and I’m not so proud that I cannot let you know that I admire it in you. This meal is not only a way for us to come together in peace, but it is simply my way of saying you played a shrewd game and gave me a headache or two. Let us celebrate and put away our weapons.”
“Even though almost all of Olympus lies in ruins?”
“It will be rebuilt. Let us lift our wine glass and predict who the leader will be when it stands once again.”
Dagon smiled darkly, and lifted his glass. “Dagon,” he said.
Zeus lifted his wine glass, and said, “Zeus.”
The two laughed, and clinked their glasses and drank.
Dagon looked around at the guests. “I recognize many of the guests, even those of your warriors, and their ladies. Isn’t it unusual for them to be here?”
“Of course not,” Zeus said. “During the time they’re not at battle I try to provide them with the finer things. After all, they work hard, and do well keeping Olympus safe.”
Actually, this was a ploy of Zeus’ own. He knew the presence of a few of his warriors would keep Dagon from thinking anything was being done behind his back in case he became suspicious.
“Yes, I suppose I can understand that,” Dagon replied.
“First we’ll eat,” Zeus continued, “and then I’ve instructed the servants to warm the water in the Roman Bath so we can relax with our wine and cigars.”
“Very good,” Dagon replied just as the torches that lit the floor was snuffed out, allowing the candles on the tables to give light. “What is this?” Dagon whispered to Zeus.
“Apparently the entertainment is starting. Just enjoy your meal while we look on to see what the players have for us tonight.”
Zeus felt a mysterious presence on stage as he gazed down on the wide floor. Suddenly a spotlight snapped on, revealing a young man covered in glitter, and taking a striking pose.
The music began.
The glitter that covered the dancer caught the light, and there was an audible gasp. Every eye was on him as he slowly began to dance on the wide floor, the spotlight following, and the glitter pulsing with each move he made. The costume he wore was brief, freeing him to move with the music. Zeus couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The young man looked like something out of a dream.
He twisted, he turned, he kicked, and he did splits and jumps, all while telling the sad story of a star-crossed lover who commits suicide. While the drums and music beat out a dark rhythm, when it came to the final crescendo, the dancer made a pretense of stabbing himself in his chest, fell to the floor where a red material that simulated blood burst from his body, and flowed out onto the floor. While the blood rippled in the wind, he lay perfectly still, his head bowed low until the music died away. When he stood and bowed, in one big burst, those sitting along the tables stood up on their feet and cheered.
“Who is this…dancer?” Dagon asked in a soft voice as he leaned toward Zeus.
“His name is Christopher. He came to us highly recommended.”
“I should say. He is excellent. I wonder if he could do more.”
“We have other performers,” Zeus said, skirting the issue.
“Yes, but none like him. A little later perhaps?” Dagon pressed. “I don’t want to tire him. After he has rested will be fine.”
“I’ll ask him.” He called out to Christopher who was still bowing before the whistling crowd. “Christopher, could you possibly do something more? A little later, perhaps when you’ve rested a bit?” He made a furtive nod toward Dagon. “Dagon here finds you fascinating, and I must say I agree.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Christopher answered while breathing heavily.
“Thank you, my boy.” Zeus watched Christopher turn and leave the stage, the long red cloth dragging behind.
“I would like to meet him,” Dagon said.
“But there’ll be no time. I thought as soon as the meal was over, we would adjourn to the Roman Bath.”
“Why the hurry? After we see his next show you will bring him to the table so I can meet him.” He looked at Zeus as if he dared him to refuse. “Do you object?”
“No, of course not.”
“And then I would like for him to join us in the Roman Bath.”
“That is highly unusual, Dagon. We have never invited one of the performers into our most private salon.”
Dagon looked at Zeus. “We will invite him only if he is worthy.”
Zeus was silent. He had to do it, even if it was highly irregular. If it would give Ares more time to plan his war against Ottus, and to topple this devil from his arrogant throne, it would be worth it.
“Rules are made to be broken,” Zeus said with a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and then clapped his hands summoning a servant. “Pericles, begin heating the water in the Roman Bath. Dagon and I will—”
“Dagon and the dancer,” Dagon said, a glitter of danger in his eyes when he looked at Zeus.
