Nick Alimonos’s
City By The Sea
Chapter One: A Stranger In
Wrestling to keep
seated aloft the slippery, blackish-green surface, He-Man planted his
double-headed battle ax once more into the skull of the giant swamp snail,
gripping a slime-coated antenna with his other hand as black blood spattered
against his naked, broad chest. With that, its head splashed down into the
cold, murky bog, and He-Man slid of the slain snail's head, freeing his ax
before trudging to a beach of dry, black earth. There he stood, a lone figure
under a turquoise disc, the planet, Infinity, masking a quarter of the wine
dark, Eternian sky, and its small violet companion,
the cratered moon, Eon. Gazing back over his kill, he could make out the
gold-brown hill that was the snail's body, and the serpentine neck protruding
from it, now submerged. The sword strapped to his back, the Sword of Grayskull, whose hilt reaching over his shoulder was the
face of a yawning, sharp-toothed skull, quivered for lust of battle, magic fire
running down its smooth, steel shaft to his ankles, singeing his hairs. But it
was unnecessary. The attack had come by surprise and from below, and the
hungering snail that was the death of many travelers, had met its own fate by
his ready ax.
Shaking off the horror,
as well as mud, He-Man spotted a winged, man-like creature soaring over the
reddening horizon. He gripped his ax's handle. But as the creature came closer,
he loosened his grip.
"Stratos!"
The gray-skinned bird
man spread his blue feathered arms apart, touching the ground softly no more
than a yard from the lone, grizzly warrior.
"Stratos," he called again. "What brings you from
the cloudy peaks of Avion?"
The man called Stratos stared hard into the warrior's soft, blue eyes.
"Moons ago, a messenger climbed the cloudy
With a stroke of his
hand, He-Man wiped another layer of mud from his body, beautiful as a nude
god’s, save for the fur cloth at his loins and the leather boots strapped to
his feet, revealing a great scar across the muscled creases in his flesh, from
his left breast to his right hip. "What does this have to do with
me?"
"We are a peace
loving people, He-Man. We cannot aid them in war. But the Council of Azrael decided that we should help Sarnath,
by sending you to them. They've heard stories, of your cunning in battle. I was
sent to find you, to deliver the plea of Urukagina,
High Priest of Sarnath."
"What is this
plea? And why should I help them?" "Lead their armies into battle
against the mer-men, and Urukagina
promises his virgin daughter to you in wedlock, with a dowry such as to make
you a king."
Combing a braided lock
of golden hair behind his shoulder and running his fingers through his short,
blonde beard, he answered, finally; "Where is Sarnath?"
"I could lead you.
But you would lag behind without my wings. Whereas I could reach it in a day,
you would in a week."
"How will I find
it, then?"
"Beyond this
swamp, over that hill, is the village,
And so, in the crook of
a river beside a series of irrigated fields, He-Man reached the cluster of huts
and dirt roads that was
Wandering through the
streets, He-Man was greeted by no one. Though there were few villagers moving
hastily about, they averted their eyes or hid stares beneath their hoods,
perhaps due to his awesome size or the array of weaponry jingling with his
every step. Children were curious enough to approach him, but their parents
were quick to snatch them away. Most certain, he was a stranger, and in these
hard times villages were unwelcome to strangers. Two things could be expected
of a stranger, that he was ill and seeking mercy, a beggar, or a poor thief.
And he did not look like a beggar.
The first to speak to
him was a woman sitting in the dirt, her back against the wall of an abandoned
ruin, a single sheet of earthen cow hide draped over her. Though middle-aged,
lines split her blackened face so that she looked much older. And strewn across
her visage were long strands of dark hair, as if they'd never been cut, fleas
crawling between them. Stooping low to talk to her, a stench like dried urine
assaulted him, and he was besieged by the flies that lived round her, and the
mosquitoes that nibbled at her flesh. Beneath her veil of lice plagued hair,
however, he could see her perfect, brown eyes unstained, seeming to him as though
they'd been washed too often and no tears were left to fall.
"What do you
want?" he asked.
"One copper
piece," she answered, rattling the tin cup beneath her cow hide, "for
one hour." She forced a smile, but it was more heartbreaking than merry.
He reached into the
pouch at his waist, tossing four gold coins into the cup. It was enough to buy
her food for a year, and a good set of clothes.
Falling on her hands
and knees, she emptied the cup, counting the four gold coins and two copper
pieces, examining the gold, tasting it. She lifted her eyes to him, then,
staring awe-struck as if he were a god.
As he turned to walk
away, she touched his shoulder, letting the cow hide drop. She had been naked
underneath it, but now he could see her pale, sickly green skin speckled with
purple and blue welts, her jutting ribs, her knees like rocks bent inwardly.
"No," he
said, turning back again.
"Please," she
murmured, "of all the times I've lent this body for copper, let it now be
for gold."
He snatched the cow
hide up and thrust it in her arms. "I said no."
"Forgive me."
She cast her eyes down. "Would you like . . . my daughter instead?"
She motioned to a bundle laying against the crumbling wall, in it, a young girl
he hadn't noticed. "S-She's older than she looks . . . and she has
experience . . ."
"Sit, you filthy
whore!" he cried, pushing her down. "And with this," he added,
slipping another ten gold pieces in her palm, "buy back, if you can, her
innocence."
At last, finding no inn
and no tavern, He-Man accosted a bent, bearded man carrying a rusty ho and with
the other hand leading a hump-backed, blue ox hitched to a makeshift plow.
"Excuse me. Can
you show me the way to Sarnath?"
The old farmer laughed,
seeming fearless for what he was. "You mean you don't know?"
"I am from a land
far off and these parts are foreign to me."
"I can tell.
Still, Sarnath is at the center of the world. All
roads lead to Sarnath."
"But where is
it?"
"Look there,"
he said, pointing to the West. "Do you see it?" And there, against the
backdrop of the giant turquoise moon ducking below the horizon, there was the
silhouette of many towers, like mountains in the distance.
"That's it?"
"Yes. Just follow
sight of it till you get there."
"But I thought it
would take a week on foot . . ."
"It might,"
he replied, trotting off. "Those towers are taller than you think."
"Thank you, kind
sir."
The farmer turned back
to him. "Tell me, son, why do you seek Sarnath?"
"I was told they
needed me."
"Then be
forewarned: Sarnath is doomed! The gods will destroy
it for it is a wicked place. A land of riches, without hunger, without illness,
true, but those who go there hunger for want of the soul. It's easy to love the
gold and forget the love for fellow man. For those who live in Sarnath live to forever quench their greed, their appetite
for wine and meat, their lust. And soon, forget your brother, forget your
sister, forget your mother and father-"
"Do not preach to
me, old man! I have no brother, nor sister, nor mother . . . nor father."
"Peace be with you, then." And the slow turning wheels of his
ox cart marked his exit.
With the old man's
words still lingering in his mind, He-Man found a shady tree as day turned to
sullen night, and with sword drawn ready in hand, he fell into a restless
sleep, dreaming of his mother, of goblins and daggers.
Chapter Two: Enter Sarnath
High copper stoned
walls walled Sarnath, square towers guarding each end
under blue banners, golden trident heads and golden tassels hanging from their
edges, swaying in the brisk wind. And at the dizzyingly high archway in the
middle, there was a river of merchants, carriages, and chariots bursting from
its banks as they pressed, many at once to flow within, as others from another
side spilled out.
All was in a state of
military readiness when He-Man reached the gates. There were soldiers dressed
in bronze from head to foot, with bronze tridents, bronze helmets sprouting
blue horse hair crests and bronze shields laying at their feet, both helmet and
shield displaying their symbol, the trident head. And they approached him, one
speaking out; "From where are you?"
"I am from a land
far off," he replied.
"And what business
do you have in Sarnath?"
"I was summoned by
your priest."
"What? The priest
summons no one."
"But I am He-Man .
. ."
"You! You are the He-Man?"
"Yes."
"I had been told
that you were ten feet tall. You don't look ten feet tall to me . . ."
"I assure you,
good soldier, that I am He-Man, and tomorrow we shall fight side by side. Now
let me through."
The soldier turned to
his comrade, whispering; "What do you think? Should we let him
through?"
"Well . . .,"
the other replied, "he doesn't look like a mer-man."
"I know that! But
is he the one? Is he the He-Man?"
"If not, Urukagina will know."
"Then I shall escort
him. Come with me, warrior."
As they walked through
the busy streets, the merchants selling carpets, blue melons, orange starfish,
and countless other things beneath striped tents, the musicians playing their
finely tuned lyres, flutes, and beating their drums, the women dancers dancing
lasciviously, the rich men's white marbled homes with their green inner
courtyards, their sweet-smelling flowers of rainbow's every hue, their nude
statuettes pouring out a never ending jug of water, and the copper stoned
towers with their many parapets looming high above them, all stretching
outwardly in a multitude to the roaring blue sea, which every eye could look
upon for Sarnath rested on a high plateau, the
soldier spoke with He-Man.
"So, did you
really kill the two-headed giant of Abu-Zabu?"
"No," He-Man
replied.
"Really? But if you didn't kill him, who did?"
"I don't know.
I've never seen a two-headed giant, nor even heard of a place called Abu-Zabu. I think it is a myth."
Turning the corner, the
two pedestrians confronted an immense rectangular field in the very center of
the city, lined by six obelisks etched with writing, dividing the field into
two perfect squares: in one, a perfectly square pool with crystal blue water,
in the other, a copper pyramid casting its shadow over the whole city, with
steps leading to its flat peak and a doorway leading through those steps to its
inside.
"What is
that?"
"It is the
He-Man's brown leather boots
echoed against the clean, white marble floor of the temple, leaving a trail of
dried mud and dirt with his every step. Soon to greet him was a tall man in a
long white robe with gold trim and a pointed hat that made him look even
taller, lean like the staff he carried in his left hand, a staff topped with a
small gold trident head in a golden circle. And in the midst of this man's
yellow-pale face, between the creases stretching from his bony cheeks to his
jutting adam's apple, was
his knife-like nose, and his eyes, black like black pearls.
"Welcome!"
the man's voice boomed, a voice betraying his gaunt frame. "You must be
the warrior I've heard so much of . . . the He-Man."
"And you must be
the priest, Urukagina."
"That is correct.
Come, warrior. From the looks of it, you must be famished, and in need of a
good bath and fresh clothes. Let my servants take those heavy weapons. You'll
have no need of them here."
Two women in plain
white robes approached him from both sides, but he pushed them away. "No.
I am never without my sword. You may take my ax, but never this sword."
"The
ax, then. Servants!"
He-Man handed the
double-headed ax to one girl, who with great effort and both arms carried it
away. "Tell me now, priest, what is this war about? All else can
wait."
Urukagina led He-Man to another chamber. "I will be honest
with you, He-Man. I am not fond of you. You are a barbarian: uneducated,
ill-mannered, of ignoble birth."
He-Man grimaced.
"How do you know all this about me?"
"By the looks of
you, parading around half-naked like a wild animal, like . . . a
barbarian."
"Naked, barbarian,
these are your words, not mine. I don't know them."
"Allow me to
enlighten you. Do you see this great city, its measure, its grandeur? This is civlization! This is where man rises from his barbaric
roots, and unlike the wild animal, becomes civilized. Here we have writing,
temples built to the rightful gods, our gods, and
laws, laws for all man can and cannot do. These things bring
order from chaos, and with order comes power, the power to build such
great cities . . . as this. Sarnath is more than what
is here. We mine for gold in the South, have colonies all across the sea, and
trade goods with every other civilized city in the world. Sarnath
isn't just a city, it is an idea, an idea that will
spread to every corner of the planet! And soon, I fear, your kind will be no
more, just scattered remains of a people long ago . . ."
"And what if some
people don't want to change their ways?"
"We will change
them."
"By
force?"
"It is for their own good. They are inferior, after all. They don't
know any better."
"If I am inferior,
what do you need of me?"
"I need you to
lead my armies, for the enemy they face is strange and terrible, and fear
seizes them so they cannot fight.
"The tales of your
exploits, written in our own language, may inspire them to courage, if you are
to fight with them in the front line of battle. I know it is much for me to
ask. This is not your war. But these foul mer-men
threaten our very existence! There are countless numbers of them, sprouting
from the sea. For two months we have kept them at bay, but every night they
inch their way closer. Last night, they were at the very gates! As many as we kill, so many more come the next night. If
they should reach beyond these walls, all will be lost, our fair city, our
temple, civilization itself! This is why I sent for help, first to the people
of Avion, promising my fair, virgin daughter to their
king, and now . . . to you."
"I don't
understand. Why would mer-men that live in the sea,
want to plunder your city, and with such undying force?"
"They are
evil!" the priest cried suddenly, "that is why. Must there be another
reason? Believe me; I have seen them, hideously ugly, reeking of the sea and
gibbering unintelligibly, with no regard for life! They kill for the pleasure
of it, mindless of their own destruction. And for this they must be wiped out,
all those spawned of
"
Urukagina led him under another archway to a single room
seeming to make up the whole temple, vast as its outside and empty, save for
the square pool at its center and the single stone sculpture rising from it
vaguely discernible in the distance.
"To what gods do
you pray?" the priest asked.
"To the winged
goddess, Zo-Ar," He-Man replied.
"A
heathen god, no doubt. Let me tell
you of our god, Sargon, and of the beginnings of the universe."
High above them now was
an idol of carved, white marble, a handsome, bare breasted god whose pupils
were giant pearls, with hair like the angry sea coiled about a king's crown,
and a beard curled like a cloud. In his left hand was a stone trident raised
high. And he stood on a chariot sea shell, latched by golden reins to two
life-size, humpback whales, though both smaller than the god and his chariot.
Supporting all this, at the base of the idol, was a larger sculpture, a poorly
crafted squid of red coral, its ten tentacles, crumbling with age, just
touching the surface of the still water.
"In the beginning,
many thousands of years ago, there was only cold and darkness. That was when
the world was covered in water, when all living things swam and lived in chaos,
and
He-Man thought for a
moment. "And you believe the mer-men are somehow
. . . related to
"Yes," Urukagina replied, pointing to an unraveled scroll on a
marble podium below the idol. "It is prophesied in the scriptures that
someday,
Suddenly, there came a
sobbing from the other side of the idol. And there, sitting by the edge of the
pool at Sargon's back, tears forming circles in the water, was a young woman.
Bending over her was a man-shaped behemoth with a long leathery snout, jutting
teeth, and small, pointed eyes, dressed in scarlet, deep blue, and gold, with a
rippling, velvety cape of scarlet and knee-high boots of solid gold. And
standing upright on the floor with its looped, leather shaft in his four
fingered hand was an immense hammer shaped like a golden bell, a hammer no man
could lift.
"He-Man, this is Grimosse, my guardian. He takes care of my daughter."
"Guardian
. . . of the same ‘guardians' who turned on their mage creators and killed
them?"
"Yes. But I assure
you, Grimosse is trustworthy. He has been with us for
many years."
The woman stood, cheeks
still streaming from her blue eyes. And He-Man noticed her dark hair, the
ornate, gold headdress she wore, like a chandelier with many hanging jewels,
the white robe with gold trim, split down the middle just enough to cover her
nipples, the pink sea shell shielding her womanhood, and the gold chain wrapping
round her bare ankle to her middle toe.
Urukagina gestured to her; "Merneptah,
my daughter."
"Father!" she
cried. "You can't make me marry him! I won't!"
"How dare you show
me disrespect!" he scoffed back. "I am your elder. I know what's best
for you. Grimosse, take her to her room."
But there was no need.
She ran out of the temple, hands over her eyes, before the monster could react.
Chapter Three: A Thief In the Night
Hours spent mulling over
all that was and was to be, all the priest had said, and as best he could
removing the faces of horror stricken, dying men from his memory as he would
soon see again, He-Man settled into an uneasy sleep. His hand rested, as
always, on his sword. And there, in that small, simple room he had requested,
for he desired none of the luxuries offered that might soften him or honor him
more than those who were to die by his side, He-Man slumbered, only the pale
turquoise moon gleaming through a square window.
Shouts echoed in his
dreams as he was thrown violently into a momentary sense of vertigo, wondering
where he was. It was dark, warm, and humid. And then, like a sudden gust of
wind, the memories of the past few days returned to him, and he realized the shouts
were real and that he was awake.
"Could it be an
attack?" he murmured to himself, shaking the dread from his trembling
flesh as he clutched his sword and leaped out of bed. But as he sprinted down a
dim, lamp lit corridor, following the sound of the voices in a confused uproar,
he doubted it was an attack. No orders were being made. Nor was there the
familiar scream, unmistakable to those who've heard it, of a man when Death
approaches him suddenly.
The shouts carried him
to an open arch of bright, white light, through it, the inner shrine of the
temple. Gripping his sword with both hands, he lunged forward, only to find the
priest and two soldiers, staring up at the idol of Sargon.
"Sacrilege!"
the priest cried, waving his gold, encircled-trident-head staff. "Get
her!"
Climbing the face of
Sargon, with a knotted rope tied round her waist to a hook in the ceiling, was
a woman clad in brown leather boots reaching up to her thighs, a thin loin
cloth, and her small breasts in a bronze brassier. Strapped to her back was a
strange, ornate sword of jade and gold, unfettered by the single brunette braid
of hair dangling to her heels. And her whole right arm was fitted with a metal
glove with a claw she was using to scale the idol.
"I'll get her
down!" the younger of the two soldiers touted, ready to hurl his spear.
"Stop!" the
priest cried. "You'll damage our god!"
"Who is she?"
He-Man asked, running up to them.
"A heathen!"
he answered, "a vagabond! A thief come to rob the
very eyes of Sargon, as though He would not see her evil-doing!"
"Those giant
pearls?"
"Y-Yes."
All ready, He-Man could
see her, clinging to the sloping nose of the statue, reaching for the creamy
white orbs, each the size of a human head.
"What would be
worse," asked He-Man, "having her take out the statue's eyes or
pitting it with spear points?"
"It is said that
when the eyes of Sargon are removed, the end of Sarnath
is near . . . All right, guards, get her down by any means!"
The soldiers hesitated,
watching as her gloved fingers dug into the tear ducts of the god.
"What are you
waiting for!?" the priest cried.
"W-We can't,"
the young soldier replied. "We'll both be damned. It's hubris to desecrate
the idol of Sargon."
"Do not fear.
Sargon and I speak as one. My commands come as though from God himself. Now
throw your spears!"
The spear shot from the
young soldier's hand, but fell far short of the girl, never touching the idol,
dropping lifelessly to the ground. The second spear rose higher, passing by her
head - clashing against Sargon's cheek, then tumbling
down.
Alarmed by this, she
flipped backwards from Sargon's nose, all the while, reaching for her sword. As
the soles of her boots touched the surface of the god's raised arm, she cut the
rope at her waist. Then the hilt of the sword became a bow, and with a readied
arrow sliding from her glove, she stretched the string back with her armored
arm, aiming at the priest.
"No!" the
young soldier cried, throwing himself before Urukagina
as the arrow sliced through his chest, and there, at the priest's feet, gasping
out his last breath.
"Blood . .
.," Urukagina intoned, backing away. "It
will stain the floor. There must be no blood shed in the temple! Guard, take
him away!" But before the second soldier could react, an arrow cut through
the back of his head, its metal tip protruding through the bridge between his
eyes.
"We must take care
of the girl first!" said He-Man, and twisting the blue plumed helmet from
the young soldier's head, he sent it spinning to heaven, like a groaning
athlete throwing the discuss. It crashed into her shin
with tremendous force, knocking her off of the god's arm, and with a scream,
she plunged down to the rim of the sea shell chariot, balanced on her naked
stomach. Her sword, meanwhile, slipped from her grasp, clanging to the marble
floor at the feet of He-Man.
"Excellent!"
said Urukagina. "Perhaps the scrolls speak truly
of you."
But He-Man ignored him,
facing the girl. "There is nowhere left to go. Even if you could still
reach the pearls, you'd never escape the city. Come down."
Slowly, the girl walked
down the sloping path that was the rim of the stone chariot, climbed down to
the god's feet, and down to
"Don't let her get
away!" the priest scowled.
He-Man ran after her,
but she moved swift as a great cat. Only when reaching the doors of solid
bronze did she hault, straining in vain to open them.
Suddenly the doors flew
open, knocking her back, and six soldiers brandishing tridents spilled into the
room. She turned, only to find He-Man, towering before her. For the first time,
then, he noticed her, like two shining moons, the sorrow in her turquoise eyes.
And as two of the guards seized her, she spoke these words to him; "Voithemai! Emaiste ap ton ethio
phili. Min voithas eftoos tous armatolites!
Oli xedoun, e'Sarnath tha thialathi!"
"What did she say
to you?" the priest asked, startling him.
"She said that . .
. Sarnath is doomed."
"More heathen
lies!"
"What's going to
happen to her?"
"She will die, of
course. She was destined to die the moment she looked upon this shrine. No
heathen eyes may behold Sargon and live."
After helping burn the
bodies of the two soldiers, He-Man returned to his room. But this time it was
even more difficult to sleep. The room and his bed seemed small and empty, and
nothing was there to comfort him but his cold, sharp sword with the skull face
of Death on its hilt. His mind wandered back to the girl. What He-Man had not
told Urukagina, and he knew not why, was that the thief in the night was
of his own tribe. Her braid, though much longer than his, was in the
traditional style of his people, down the middle of her back as was customary
for women. And she spoke his native tribal language forgotten to all but a few.
She knew it; she pleaded for him to help her. But he would not. She was a thief
and a murderer; what good could she be, even if she were the last of his
people? Still, a force like Fate drove him to leave. He had to speak to her
before her execution. But where would they keep such a prisoner, he wondered,
the dungeon of Sarnath? As these thoughts crossed his
mind, a young soldier came running towards him, dread in his eyes.
"He-Man!" he
cried. "Thank the gods I've found you!"
"What is it,
man?"
As in answer to his
question, a trumpet sounded, followed by many more trumpets. "To
arms!" the man said. "Mer-men stalk the
shores of Sarnath!"
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