The blue waves dimpled in the morning light and all Atlantis met in fête, nor thought that nearer, nearer drawing yet were barques by hundreds—hurrying wolves of war that hovered nigh and waited for the night, to set their feet on forest bordered spot and march on home and wrest its treasures all, in human life and gems and gold.
The ocean shimmered in the dawn as Atlantis celebrated, unaware of the approaching danger. Hundreds of warships lurked nearby, waiting for nightfall to invade the coastal city. Their plan: to storm through the surrounding forests, ransack homes, and plunder all treasures—both lives and riches alike.
To wrest the marvels that the years—the centuries—had wove, had beaten, wrought, in weeks, in years a single piece, enwrought with thoughts that spring from other climes and planets.
To seize the marvels that the years, the centuries, had woven and beaten and wrought. Each single piece was worked over weeks, over years, and worked through with thoughts that spring from other climes and planets.
The fête—the birthday of the monarch's son, young Ambisamis, born to wear a crown in that same year when the great sea-fight fell; for died his sire ere the sun set upon that fête day.
The celebration marked the birthday of the monarch's son, young Ambisamis. He was born to inherit the throne in the same year as the momentous naval battle. Tragically, his father died before sunset on that very day of festivities.
Loud the music called to banquet hall or dance, or yet to prayer, for them whose days were few and who did turn their eyes to gods, as then, and only then the people learned to pray. Prayed they with mind so set on higher mood, that Earth was all forgot and roamed the soul afar as body knelt, and in the suppliant's eyes a light that borrowed not from Earth.
The music blared, summoning people to feasts, dances, or prayer gatherings. Those with little time left turned to the gods, as it was only then that people truly learned to pray. They prayed with such focus and intensity that they forgot about the world around them. Their souls wandered far while their bodies knelt, and in their pleading eyes shone a light that seemed to come from beyond this world.
All sudden, faint and far away, the call of trumpet crossed the cadence sweet of voices raised in song, and instruments of strings that fingers smote all deftly—the harps of air or yet the water harp whose music rose and fell so soft and low, then loud and clear as bell from tower calling men to war.
Suddenly, from a distance, the faint sound of a trumpet pierced through the gentle melody of singing voices and expertly played string instruments. It mingled with the ethereal harps and the water harp, whose music ebbed and flowed softly at first, then grew louder and clearer, like a bell from a tower summoning men to battle.
"A herald!" spake the king who sat at meat in splendor of his office—gold and gems and silken robe and crown that seemed as stars.
"A messenger!" declared the king, who dined in royal grandeur—adorned with gold, jewels, silk robes, and a crown that glittered like stars.
Adown the board his ministers, clad all in gaily painted robes of state. Some showing roses twined in garlands bright, some golden, painted, waving ears of corn, some vines with tendrils, Nature's beauties all. Each statesman holding in the hand which showed his monarch's ring—a gift all prized—a goblet fair of that rare fluid, yellow shot with rose, a wine distilled with care. Elixir made for kings alone.
Down the table sat his ministers, all dressed in brightly painted robes of state. Some showed bright garlands of twined roses. Some showed waving ears of corn, painted gold. Some showed vines with tendrils. All were Nature's beauties. Each statesman held a fair goblet of that rare fluid, yellow shot with rose, in the same hand that showed his monarch's ring, a gift all of them prized. It was a wine distilled with care, an elixir made for kings alone.
The trumpet's call grew louder, near.
The trumpet blared closer, its sound intensifying.
"A herald!" murmured each. "Who dareth on this day to send our king a message?"
"A messenger!" they whispered. "Who dares send our king a message today?"
Spake the king: "Our mood is sore displeasure! Let him wait."
The king declared angrily, "I'm extremely displeased! Make him wait."
And waited he. Out on the carven marble of the outer court reclined in angry mood a man of lordly mien who bode alone and drank such wisdom rare as few may hope to gain.
He waited. In the outer courtyard, on the carved marble floor, a noble-looking man reclined alone. His mood was angry as he drank in rare wisdom that few could hope to gain.
"I wait, indeed! when in my hand's palm hold I the life of all who bide upon this isle! This isle is doomed, speak they not fair as I had deemed my king might speak to me!" And swift as spear thrust came the thought to him—the king: "A favor granted is a blessing gained when stress of pleasure holds. Bring to us him who calleth for our ear," spake he.
"I wait, indeed! When I hold in the palm of my hand the life of all who live on this isle! This isle is doomed if they do not speak as fairly as I had thought my king might speak to me!" And swift as a spear thrust, the thought came to the king: "A favor granted while pleasure holds sway is a blessing gained. Bring us the man who calls for our ear," he said.
A kingly form in robes of plainest jet. No gem upon his hand nor on his breast. Black browed, with curling lips. A warrior frame, yet born denying strife. Vigils long o’er tomes and studies of the farther globes and planets marked the far off mood of heavy lidded eyes.
A regal figure dressed in simple black robes. No jewels adorned his hands or chest. Dark eyebrows framed his face, his lips curled. He had the build of a warrior, yet seemed to reject conflict. His heavy-lidded eyes revealed a distant expression, hinting at long nights spent poring over books and studying far-off planets and celestial bodies.
"I come," he spake in answer to the call, "to show my monarch that his country's good is my delight. The voice of Nature speaks to me in silent tones. Eye glance hath told me not this hour, but later shall. The dip of galley oars fill now mine ears.
"I come," he said in answer to the call, "to show my monarch that his country's good is my delight. The voice of Nature speaks to me in silent tones. A glance of my eye has not told me yet this hour, but later it shall. The dip of galley oars fills my ears now.
"The Northmen come for plunder; fiercer yet, the men of Asia hover where the line of sea and island verdure hides. Tonight they fain would creep upon our land and fell destroy. I speak, but thou art king, thy galleys swift and thou a man of action." Low he bent, then left the banquet hall.
The Vikings raid for treasure, while the more brutal Asian warriors lurk where the coastline meets lush islands. Tonight, they aim to sneak onto our shores and wreak havoc. I've said my piece, but you're the king. Your ships are fast, and you're a man of action. He bowed low, then exited the banquet hall.
A thrill ran through the frame of each who heard. The message called to mind a woeful state. The king rose slowly, braided glass in hand that trembled as he spake: "Men, rise and cast aside those robes of fête and to the boats bid every slave that pulls a galley's oar! Each captain of a host, of twenty men the leader!
A shiver ran through everyone who heard. The message reminded them of a dire situation. The king stood up slowly, his braided glass cup shaking as he spoke: "Men, get up and throw off your party clothes! Order every slave who rows a galley to the boats! Captains, gather your troops! Leaders, assemble your twenty men!"
"Bugles blow the call! the leeches to their towers—men who make the body whole when rent by spear—and those grim souls who bare the body Death hath smote and make it fit for funeral pyre, come all!
Trumpets sound the alarm! Healers to your stations—those who mend bodies torn by weapons—and the solemn undertakers who prepare the dead for their final rites, come one and all!
"We need a leader. I, thy king know battle not. What warrior leads today our fête that blooms to battle's fuller rose whose petals, dyed in blood, shall meet the sun?
"We need a leader. I, your king, am not experienced in battle. Which warrior will lead our celebration today as it transforms into the full-blown rose of combat, its petals stained with blood, ready to face the sun?"
"To northward lies the fleet. Aye, fleets, the sage hath said who never error made, nor had his fathers of the olden line who came from that dim land where forests wave above a slimy river.
To the north lies the fleet. Indeed, fleets, as the wise one said - one who never erred, nor did his ancestors of ancient lineage who came from that mysterious land where forests sway above a muddy river.
"Men, to battle on the sea!"
"Sailors, prepare for naval combat!"
None shrank from duty. All had strength of mind to so upbear him in his monarch's eye none faltered:
No one avoided their responsibilities. Everyone had the mental fortitude to stand tall before the king without wavering.
"We are thine, O king! For life and death! For battle, too, are we! Set sail, we, in this hour."
"We're yours, Your Majesty! In life and death! Ready for battle, too! Let's set sail now."
Loud rang the bells that called the men to quays. Wine drunken some were treated to the flow of fountain filled with nauseous drink and soon their muddled brains drank the command.
The bells rang loud, calling the men to the quays. Some were drunk on wine. These were treated to the flow of a fountain filled with a nauseating drink, and soon their muddled brains drank in the command.
"To war!" The cry rang through the festooned streets, rose garlanded in honor of the prince.
"To war!" The shout echoed through the decorated streets, adorned with flower garlands to celebrate the prince.
Stern faces looked with love on weeping maids, and mothers sighed in meeting eyes of him who first lay on her breast—the son, perchance, to look no more with reverence on her aging form.
Stern faces looked with love on weeping maidens. And mothers sighed, each meeting the eyes of the one who first lay at her breast. This was her son, who perhaps would never again turn his reverent eyes on her aging form.
The galleys swung in line; a showing brave they made. Less than a thousand in that day and yet—the timbers new, the axes clasped with hide, spears burnished bright—the slave that rowed whose former langour nothing spake in sinews for the beating waves.
The ships lined up impressively, a sight to behold. Though fewer than a thousand strong, they were a formidable force. With fresh timber, axes wrapped in leather, and gleaming spears, they were ready for battle. The once-weary slaves who manned the oars now showed no sign of fatigue, their muscles primed for the crashing waves ahead.
Those slaves were men in mien, for that past king bade all behold the soul within and live as free as One intended when He cast the mould of man about the ether form. Each slave of galley bore himself a stave, and in the thickest of the fight he bounded from the swivel bench and struck such blows as soldiers learn to strike and foemen fell, through him, on every hand.
Those enslaved individuals carried themselves with dignity, for their former ruler had commanded all to recognize the inherent worth of each person and live as freely as the Creator intended when forming humanity. Every galley slave wielded an improvised weapon, and in the heat of battle, they leapt from their benches, striking with the skill of trained soldiers. Their enemies fell all around them, testament to their fierce fighting prowess.
"Far, far to sea!" the captains called to each full galley of their eager men. "We meet in war the wolves that come from North! The serpent of the forest lends his fleet to other nation! Thus hath said the Sage who never told what has not soon befallen."
"Far, far out to sea!" the captains called to each full galley of their eager men. "We meet in war the wolves that come from the North! The serpent of the forest lends his fleet to another nation! So the Sage has said, and he has never foretold anything that did not soon come to pass."
And in their midst the galley of Ulsantis, a mighty admiral who first drew breath in galley; chosen son of old Hambrydisis—crafty lord of sea—who knew each isle and shore for leagues and leagues, and countries far, so far that none save he had set his foot, from that calm isle of men, upon their borders.
Among them was the ship of Ulsantis, a powerful admiral born at sea. He was the favored son of old Hambrydisis, a cunning sea lord who knew every island and coastline for miles around. Hambrydisis had explored distant lands so remote that only he had ever set foot on their shores, venturing from his peaceful island home.
Chosen, too, his son that day to lead in battle; for the rightful lord of fleet lay writhing sore in pain that none could soon allay, although the king's own leech sat by his couch with cooling mixtures.
His son, too, was chosen that day to lead in battle. For the rightful lord of the fleet lay writhing in sharp pain that no one could soon ease, although the king's own physician sat by his couch with cooling mixtures.
Incense burned on coals that glowed within a chalice woven from the gold which had wrapped the king's own infant cradle; coals from pungent wood that cast an odor on the atmosphere for many paces round.
Incense smoldered on embers glowing in a golden chalice, crafted from the metal that once adorned the king's baby cradle. The fragrant wood filled the air with a strong scent that spread far beyond the immediate area.
"Aye, let him lead until my pain be passed—Ulsantis," spake the stricken one. "His brain doth leap to message from my mind; so I direct that he will not mistake. Bid him be calm, O Herald! Bid him speak to men as slowly as the sun steps to its rounds from out the ocean when the morn is clear and naught disturbeth Nature.
"Yes, let Ulsantis lead until my pain subsides," said the injured one. "His mind quickly grasps my thoughts, so I can guide him without error. Tell him to be calm, Herald! Ask him to address the people as deliberately as the sun rises from the sea on a clear, peaceful morning."
"Bid him to speak as bell rings out its summons, clear and firm and true each order ringing to the ears of men."
"Tell him to speak boldly, like a bell calling people to gather. His commands should be clear, strong, and honest, resonating in everyone's ears."
Ulsantis in the galley, painted, broad, with lilies jasper set, and studded thick with metal made from foreign ores, rode at the head of fleet. Twelve galleys deep at left, a hundred at the right, the foremost line of chosen men those at his side; and thus they kept the long day through in order of their setting out.
At the head of the fleet sailed Ulsantis in his grand galley. The ship was painted and adorned with jasper lilies, its hull studded with exotic metals. Twelve galleys flanked his left, a hundred to his right, with the most elite soldiers positioned nearest to him. They maintained this formation throughout the long day, preserving the order in which they had initially set out.
Not one oar's length from its fellow forward rode, but prow to prow they glided, leaped the waves. The sun set like a fiery wheel, of air and many leagues to North the invading fleet still lay.
The ships sailed close together, their bows aligned as they glided and leaped over the waves. The sun sank like a blazing disk, and far to the north, the invading fleet remained in position.
The galleys of the island rested not, but row on row of men sank down to rest while others filled their places, slowly rowing as the night fell down and stars hung glittering. All keenly felt the stress of caution. Lips were shut to speech. The breath came slowly. Muscles strained and chests expanded as the morn drew nigh and galley leaped to stroke.
The island's ships never stopped. As night fell and stars appeared, crews worked in shifts, with exhausted rowers resting while fresh ones took their place. Everyone was on edge, alert to danger. No one spoke, and breathing was measured. Muscles tensed and chests heaved as dawn approached and the ships surged forward with each stroke.
"Bring from the casket deep the instrument which telleth of the presence of much life upon the wave," spake he, the great commander, as the light of dawn flashed o’er the sky.
"Bring from the deep casket the instrument that tells of the presence of much life on the waves," said he, the great commander, as the light of dawn flashed over the sky.
They bared the casket from its silken folds, which checked the jar of rower's stroke, and bore it to the bower of the leader, perched high above the deck on which the soldiers lay, and yet were they above the rowers.
They removed the casket from its silk wrappings, which had cushioned it against the jolts of the rowers' strokes. They carried it to the leader's cabin, situated high above the deck where the soldiers rested, and even higher than the rowers' benches.
Carefully the hands let loose from casket that no jar might break the keen, absorbing sense of spring and bar that made the instrument a thing to fear. Springs of hair and metal wheels, and fastenings that were made from substance of the stars cast down on earth. The magnet of the moods of men mayhap it was, for the keen-eyed thing directed, so it seemed, that gods indeed had builded for the use of chosen ones.
Carefully the hands released it from the casket, so that no jolt might break the keen, absorbing sensitivity of spring and bar that made the instrument a thing to fear. It had springs of hair and metal wheels, and fastenings made from the substance of stars cast down to earth. Perhaps it was a magnet for the moods of men. For the keen-eyed thing gave direction, and it seemed that the gods had indeed built it for the use of chosen ones.
And he alone of all that fleet might read—Ulsantis. Read he, too, with eager face the message from the springs when, set on pivot high, it took the meaning from the fresh sea air and turned in dizzy whirl, then stood at bay with finger pointing northward.
And he alone of all that fleet could read it: Ulsantis. With an eager face he read the message from the springs. Set high on a pivot, the instrument took its meaning from the fresh sea air and turned in a dizzy whirl. Then it stood still at bay, its finger pointing northward.
"There they lie—yet distant, for no shrinkage towards the core doth indicate their nearness. One hundred stadia they to northward lie. We meet them not this dawn. The sea laps yet another night our Galleys ere we conquer them," the warrior cried. He spake to him attending: "Set the instrument no longer. Bear away as carefully as thou wouldst bear thine eldest son were he by illness smitten.
"They're still far off—no contraction towards the center shows they're close. They're a hundred stadia to the north. We won't meet them at dawn. The sea will lap at our ships for another night before we conquer them," the warrior declared. He then told his attendant, "Stop using the instrument now. Carry it away as carefully as you would your eldest son if he were struck by illness."
"Careful lock in iron casket, cushioned rare with silk enwound, nor let the jar of oars disturb the rest which meaneth unto us a kingdom's liberty."
"Lock it carefully in the iron casket, cushioned well and wrapped in silk. Do not let the jolt of the oars disturb its rest, for that rest means a kingdom's liberty to us."
The smiles of Nature, hidden, burst at last as one faint flush chased others o’er the sea.
Nature's hidden beauty finally revealed itself as subtle colors rippled across the ocean.
Slow crept the fleet. No trumpet sounded morn, nor bells clanged: "to thy prayers, the gods awake!"
The fleet moved slowly. No trumpets announced the dawn, nor did bells ring out to call people to prayer and declare the gods awake.
No voice in song cleft shrill the freshening air, but whispers told the needs to all who sat at bow, at stern or in the galley sheet, that metal harbor for the one who spake the evening's approach.
No voice in song cut shrilly through the freshening air. Instead, whispers passed the orders to all who sat at the bow, at the stern, or in the galley sheet, that metal shelter for the one who announced the evening's approach.
The cup of warmth passed swift from lip to lip by youths who served. The broken meat still held, but sparingly they ate. "We feast anon when stress of war is passed," they murmured, "if the gods so will; if not, we feast on blossoms fraught with spice where nectar holdeth for the one who asks—but asketh, all is his who asks, indeed!"
The warm drink was quickly passed around by young servers. The meager food remained, but they ate little. "We'll feast properly when the war is over," they whispered, "if the gods allow. If not, we'll dine on fragrant flowers where nectar awaits those who seek it—and truly, all belongs to those who ask!"
Up higher rose the sun. The morning born was well towards its zenith when spake one who held his instrument to eye in galley of the leader: "Methinks the sky-line dark about the northern boundary of our isle."
The sun climbed higher in the sky. It was nearly noon when a lookout on the lead ship's deck, peering through his spyglass, announced, "I think I see a dark line on the horizon, to the north of our island."
"What? Hold the galleys! They are come indeed! Let low the anchors! Bide here till the night shall fall! The long night through the great Moon circles, gives us light to send the souls from bodies sheltering.
"What's that? Stop the ships! They've arrived! Drop anchor! We'll wait here until nightfall. Through the long night, as the great Moon circles overhead, its light will guide us as we release the souls from their mortal shells."
"Halt the barques within the shelter of yon wooded cape and close to shore, that not one prying eye may dream the soldier faithful guards his isle."
"Stop the boats behind that tree-covered headland near the shore, so no one will suspect we're guarding the island."
All swiftly sped the men, so sure of word none asked for repetition. Anchors cast, deep sheltering point with giant palms protected even from the Northmen's eyes.
The men moved quickly, their instructions so clear that no one needed them repeated. They dropped anchor in a secluded cove, shielded by towering palm trees that hid them even from the watchful Northmen.