Panacea: An Ancient Greek-inspired Epic Fantasy (The Ruined Gods Book 1) by Alex Robins

Author:Alex Robins [Robins, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bradypus Publishing
Published: 2022-12-14T16:00:00+00:00

18

BURIAL

“When the pipes of victory sound. When the exuberant cries of triumph echo from arche to telos, then begins the final hardship. The entombment of the dead. For there is no greater affront to the Gods than leaving an empty husk of flesh uncovered and visible to their celestial eyes. Some believe it is because they do not understand death. I believe it is because they fear it.”

Cerbriones, ‘Alalagmoe’

It was Nambe who found him. Hunched over the cold body of his dead son as if the closeness would somehow make him live again.

“Dexios,” the slave called softly.

“I told you to leave,” the other man replied, his voice cracking. “Go away.”

“You did.” Nambe knelt next to the strategos. “Unfortunately for you, I no longer have to follow your orders. You made me a free man. Free to choose my own destiny. Free to decide. And I have decided to stay here.”

Dexios slowly turned his head. Grief had aged him terribly, cutting deep lines into his mud-spattered cheeks and adding serpentine blood vessels to the whites of his eyes. A shaking hand pushed weakly at Nambe’s shoulder.

“Go. Away.”

“No.”

Dexios bared his teeth. “There is nothing more to do here, slave! Return to Thena. Warn the basileus. Leave me in peace.”

“The final rites, Master. The dirges. The libations. We must bury all of them with honour, lest their shades be doomed to wander the shores of Tartarus for all eternity.”

“I …” the strategos faltered, unable to continue. Fresh tears wet his face. “You are right. I am the harbinger. That is all I am now. I will ensure that the shades of the men who died here find solace in the arms of Charon, and I will return their shields to their families.”

Nambe chose his words carefully. “That is an … arduous task, Mast— Dexios. The tauros slaughtered hundreds, and we are but two men. It will take weeks.”

For an instant, Dexios’s grief was replaced by anger. “It will take as long as it must. Such is my penance. I deserve this. I should have seen it. By the Gods, I should have seen it. And I will spend the rest of my days trying to make up for my stupidity.”

Nambe sighed. “Then, we had better get started. There are picks and shovels back at the forward camp; the slaves use them to dig the latrines and defensive ditches. I will retrieve some.”

Dexios mumbled his consent. One hand brushed absently against Keres’s hair. Felt the half-healed bruise on his temple. This is not the way it was supposed to happen, he thought sadly. It should be me lying there in the mud and you mourning me. You and your brother were the only truly good things that ever happened to me, and now you are both gone.

A muted clang of metal brought him out of his introspection. Frowning, he stood, his hand moving to his scabbard. Another clang. It was coming from the rear of the phalanx. Or at least, where the rear had been before the rout.

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