Hercules: The Legendary Journeys Two Book Collection (Adult) by Timothy Boggs

Author:Timothy Boggs [Boggs, Timothy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781443448321
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2015-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

Themon did not always sit on the bountiful plain its residents now called home. Originally it was right off the beach, a comfortable mixture of farmers, herders, and fishermen. But the farmers, the herders, and most of the fishermen quickly grew tired of rebuilding their homes every time a storm drove in from the sea, raising the tides and flattening everything in sight, as well as a few things they didn’t even realize had been there in the first place.

They considered it a sign.

Within a single year the entire population, except for a few hardheaded fishermen, had moved inland, and the new village they built soon grew to a town that quickly burgeoned into a small city. The mile ride to the beach and harbor was a small price to pay for not having to wake up one morning to find your bed transformed into a raft. And not a very stable one, at that.

In Themon, swimming wasn’t a sport, it was a matter of survival.

In the city’s center was a magnificent plaza, tiled in marble and lined with marble columns that lofted statues of the gods above the surrounding rooftops. Reaching southward from the plaza was a wide boulevard made smooth by interlocking paving stones, lined with busy shops and dining establishments. All the other north-south streets were paved as well, but only the boulevard extended beyond the city’s boundary and ran all the way to where the grassy plain sloped sharply downward to the sand.

The council that ran the city was housed in an impressive two-story structure at the north side of the plaza. Eight steps took the visitor to a wide porch inlaid with turquoise and crimson tiles and lined with columns almost as impressive as those that lined the plaza. Beneath an overhanging peaked roof was a set of double doors paneled in bronze. Past the doors was a long corridor lit by torchlight at night, and by the sun in daylight because of a rectangular hole in the roof.

At the end of the corridor was another set of double doors, these ornamented with silver and gold medallions. Beyond this threshold was the council chamber, where laws were set, judgments rendered, and citizens either honored or disgraced.

There were nine men on the council, elected every five years.

The head of the council was Titus Perical.

In fact, Titus had been leader for so long, there were few who remembered who had preceded him in the office.

Titus hated the chamber. It was chilly and drafty, it echoed every word and sneeze, it had truly dreadful artwork and statuary, and every time it rained, water ran down the central corridor and under the double doors with the silver and gold inlays, as if to remind the council that the sea might be distant but the rain could ruin a good set of sandals just as easily as a wave.

He had been trying for over a decade to hire someone to cover the roof. Tradition, however, foiled him every time.

It

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