Wheels of Fate by Adam Alexander Haviaras

Author:Adam Alexander Haviaras [Haviaras, Adam Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781988309446
Publisher: Eagles and Dragons Publishing

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A short time later, Pelops stood in the middle of the courtyard looking up the stairs of the palace and waiting for Leandros to return.

A small crowd of people had gathered at the outer edges of the court, come to see the newest challenger. But it was different this time. In the past, those gathered might have whispered of the suitor’s beauty and strength and how it was a shame for him to die so terrible a death. This time, however, they spoke of the impossibility of this man’s appearance in Elis, of the stories told far and wide of his father’s evil and of how the Gods had damned him. The fact that Pelops should appear before them now to challenge Oinomaos could only be the work of the Fates, could only mean that there was a possibility that this time would be different.

But the people knew Oinomaos, the son of War, very well, knew his pain, his anger, and his madness. There was, as ever, little hope, but as the sun shone upon their faces, as they watched Pelops standing and waiting in their midst, they could not help but hope.

Leandros appeared at the top of the palace stairs flanked by two more guards. “Follow me, Pelops of Lydia.”

Pelops made his way up the stairs and followed the guards into the palace.

Inside, the daylight was sucked out of the world as they walked through the fire-lit darkness, along lonely stone corridors, until they reached guarded doors of hammered bronze.

“Open the doors!” Leandros commanded the men standing guard.

Pelops observed their long spears, bronze armour, and high helmets crested with horse hair as he passed, but he quickly forgot the warriors about him when he looked down the long hall toward the raised throne of King Oinomaos.

Fire crackled in tripods to either side of the hall which was dominated by a soaring statue of Ares which stood upon a plinth behind the throne.

The God of War appeared to look down protectively upon his son in his chair, and his granddaughter, Hippodameia, who was sat beside her father watching Pelops walk up the aisle.

The silent nobles and warriors of Elis stood in the shadows to either side of the throne room, watching, waiting for this next challenger to approach their king.

Leandros stopped before the king and bowed. “My king! Another challenger has come to Elis!”

King Oinomaos looked down on the captain of his guard and the man who stood behind him. He sipped from his golden winecup and then handed it to the slave kneeling beside him. Oinomaos stroked his black beard and his angry eyes probed the newcomer. Behind him, the divine armour and weapons his father had given him rested upon a stand, glinting in the fires at War’s feet.

“Who is this challenger?” Oinomaos demanded.

“He is Pelops of Lydia, the son of King Tantalus!” Leandros shuddered as he spoke the name of Tantalus, as did the people there gathered, for it was like to uttering a curse.

“Tantalus?” Oinomaos laughed.

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