Serpent and Stone

Chapter 2

As I stood frozen solid in my hiding spot, the fog of fear in my mind cleared enough for me to wonder why there was a battle in the first place. Who were the two forces fighting, and why? Weren't they after me?

I peered through the foliage, trying to find answers. Both sides of the battle wore traditional bronze-plated armor and leather skirts, wielding identical longswords and round shields. The helmets were the only thing that marked the two sides apart. The bronze helmets were plumed with either red or gold, distinguishing one side from the other.

I watched in confusion, horror, and fear as the soldiers continued to fight below my tree, hacking each other apart with screams and cries of pain. The bloody violence made my stomach churn, and I swallowed back bile.

One man with a red-plumed helmet cut down several enemies in succession, moving expertly with the sword. He turned to attack another enemy and paused to look down at something at his feet. My heart constricted in fear, all of the breath leaving my lungs at once. The soldier knelt and examined my abandoned basket of oranges with keen interest. He must have suspected it was me. There was no other possibility, and I once again felt completely frozen with fear. I clutched the tree trunk tightly, as if it could protect me from the horror below.

Though the battle raged on around him, the soldier abruptly looked up, his gaze scanning the trees. My breathing stopped altogether, my body tensing as he looked around intently, his gaze only a moment away from meeting mine...

Though I harbored little more than resentment and bitterness for the gods, one of them must have been looking out for me. While the man was distracted, another solider had seen an opportunity and slashed him across his chest. The man stumbled back from the blow, his search entirely forgotten, as he belatedly lashed out and killed the attacker. 

I watched in mingled relief and dread as he fell to his knees, clutching at his bleeding wound. Another soldier spotted the injured man and solidly clubbed him across the back of his head. I flinched at the sight, imagining I could hear the impact of it from up here. The man fell backward to the ground, lying dead beside my basket of oranges.

It had been close, much too close. If he had seen me, he would have turned to stone before he even had time to understand what was happening to him. Then the others would have noticed me in my hiding spot, one by one turning to stone as the horror struck them. I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to purge the image from my mind. I did not want to be the cause of anymore death, did not want to see the pure terror in their eyes when they looked at me as their bodies slowly turned to stone. I couldn't take any more of it.

I stayed with my spine pressed against the tree, hardly daring to breathe. After such a close call, I didn't even dare to look down at the battle again, squeezing my eyes shut tight. I couldn't say how much time passed, but it felt like a century as I waited there, closing my eyes but waiting for the first man to cry out as he spotted me and became victim to my curse. It never happened. Instead the ear-shattering sounds of battle gradually faded into the fighting of just a few men, then only the groans and cries of the wounded, and finally silence.

Even after the battle ended, I remained hidden in the tree for hours more. My mind raced as I desperately tried to slow my breathing back to normal. Had these men been the only ones on the island? Or did they have comrades wandering around, waiting to ambush me when I returned to the temple?

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, taking a deep inhale. I had to be calm, in order to think straight. If they'd made it to the island, they had to have arrived by ship. If the ships were gone, then I most likely was safe.

I glanced up toward the top of the pine tree. It was one of the tallest in this part of the forest, and I judged that it could hold my weight if I climbed just a few feet higher. I carefully reached up to grab a branch and maneuvered higher and higher in the tree, taking care to judge every foothold before I put my weight on it. At last I emerged above the canopy of trees, the full landscape of the island spread out before me. I anxiously turned my gaze toward the southern shore, the white sand beaches there as smooth and pristine as finely spun silk. It was the only place safe for ships to dock, the rest of the island's shores dominated by high, rocky cliffs.

I craned my neck to get a clear view, leaning dangerously from the tree. However, I saw no ships there. My muscles loosened slightly, but my panic didn't fade completely yet. I raised my gaze higher, scanning the horizon with concentration. My grip on the tree branch tightened as I caught sight of two small but clear shapes sailing away from Sarpedon. They were nearly beyond the horizon, but still visible: two ships, large white sails billowing in the wind as they moved on the water, one west and one east. Both moving decidedly away from my island.

I finally let myself feel a small bit of relief, and I quickly climbed back down to a lower part of the tree.

Few ships ever intentionally sailed within range of Sarpedon, so those two vessels had to be the ones these men had traveled in. And now they were gone, presumably taking the rest of their men with them. The danger was past- for now, at least.

I frowned to myself, my mind turning over the morning's events with apprehension. Why had these two armies, whoever they were, fought a battle on myisland? Surely it wasn't a coincidence or accident- I was too familiar with the ways of the Fates to believe that. I shook my head to clear it. I couldn't dwell on those thoughts anymore. Whatever the reason for their arrival, both sides had clearly lost many men and decided to give up and leave. I grimly realized that I would have to prepare for the likelihood of them both returning, and with even more men. But for now, I had to move. I had to go home.

Gripping the branches with shaky fingers, I slowly began to crawl down from the tree. I felt nauseous and dizzy from so much excitement on what had initially been such a peaceful morning. My head pounded with a searing headache, and my fingers were full of splinters from my hasty climb.

When the ground was near, I jumped from the tree, landing hard on my feet. As soon as I stood up and looked around, I recoiled in disgust, putting my hand over my nose and mouth. The dead of the battle were scattered everywhere, littering the forest floor with red blood and cold bodies. It hadn't been more than a few hours since the fight ended and already the stench was almost unbearable. My snakes hissed with revulsion, and I choked back a gag as I moved among the dead, stepping over glassy eyes and severed limbs.

I couldn't stop myself from looking at them, even as I cringed back from the bloody horror. It had been so long since I'd seen another human face, not since I had buried mother all those years ago. Even in death, the sight of other humans fascinated me and captivated my imagination.

I'd lived here in Sarpedon since I was born, and the idea that so many different faces and people could exist in the world was mind-boggling. Mother used to tell me stories of great cities, where thousands and even hundreds of thousands of people lived together in one place. I knew that the stories were true, yet I still struggled to picture such a thing in my mind.

I took another step and my foot kicked into something by accident. I looked down. My traitorous basket of oranges lay in exactly the same spot where I'd dropped it, though the ripe, round fruits were now spattered with blood.

I knelt down in front the basket, remembering with a chill how close it had come to giving me away. I glanced beside it. The soldier who had almost seen me lay on his back in the same place he'd fallen in battle. His helmet had been knocked off by the club's blow, and I could see now that he had been only a young man, hardly older than I was. His face was pale as death and his light brown hair was matted with blood from the wound. Unbidden, my mind conjured the image of his mother and father receiving the news of his death and I cringed, dragging my gaze away.

But you did not kill him, I told myself firmly. His enemies did that. He isn't a statue. This time, at least, no deaths weighed on my conscience.

I took one last look around at the battle's aftermath, then stood back to my feet. I needed to return to the temple and make preparations. Perhaps I could find a way to conceal the entrance, or at least set up traps nearby in case the soldiers returned and drew too close.

I was still mired in my thoughts when my snakes hissed, sensing something even before I did, and a voice gasped out in pain behind me. I whipped around, my blood racing once again. My eyes scoured for the source of the noise and quickly found it: the young soldier who I'd presumed dead was, in fact, very much alive.