(no subject)
Bruce the wolf is waiting for Wells when he finally puts Lykaion's house behind him. Wells eyes the wolf suspiciously, but says nothing. He has some trouble believing any god could bring himself to appear as such a lousy hunter. They've got egoes to think of, even in beast shape- anyway, it doesn't matter. If Bruce is some god in disguise it's no skin off his nose, and if he's not, he's at least a decent traveling companion.
He'd wanted to ask the king about how he should begin the search for Spoon. That's not happening now, obviously- but the god had mentioned oracles. Wells is kicking himself just now for not reading more mythology in times past, but he does vaguely remember hearing about one of those at Delphi. Fine, then; Delphi it is. If he remembers right that's supposed to be a day trip out from Athens by bus, and Athens is- well, it's not here. Up for some long walking, Bruce? he asks the wolf.
Bruce's tail waves briefly. This one has nowhere to go and no pack to join, he says. This one may as well come with you.
Damn, don't be so enthusiastic, says Wells dryly. Bloody embarrassing, that is.
It takes some time to track down a village of any kind of size (not Phoroneus' village- he's not going back there for love nor money) and ask the way to Athens. It takes longer to follow the directions given. Arcadia isn't a land of roads and cities, it's a land of mountains and forests, some of the oldest Wells has ever seen. Lykaion never bothered to change that. It's annoying as fuck but there's not much to be done about it. By the time he finds another cluster of people it's nearly full moon, so he and Bruce stay as far off in mountain country as possible until those three night are past. No sense in spooking the locals.
Wells is just glad to find deer skulls in the morning instead of anything domesticated. The village isn't what you'd call prosperous, and he'd rather not prove Phoroneus right about bringing bad mojo down on people's heads just by being among them.
Bruce doesn't come into the village, of course. Wells makes bloody sure of that, for everyone's sake. One of the older women in the village says that she's been to Delphi in the past, and gives the stranger such directions as she can. She's got a few olive trees, and it's coming up on harvest time, so 'Xenophon' sticks around for long enough to help her out with the picking. He's not going to stick around for the oil-pressing, though. It'd be helpful, sure, but he's got Spoon to find.
He's not going to think about the possibility that Spoon might not be here. He's just not.
Eventually Wells and Bruce reach the limits of Arcadia and start passing through more civilized lands. The presence of so many humans, and the sheer amount of cleared land, makes the wolf intensely uncomfortable. They'll be reaching Corinth soon. From there Wells can either go into the city and take ship to cross the Gulf of Corinth, as the old woman did, or he can have a go at the Isthmus Road and head into Attica. He's got no money and no desire to spend more time working for it just to afford a ship; the Isthmus Road it is. But still...
Bruce, he says, come here, would you?
The wolf (whose hunting has improved, now that he has no one harassing him as his old pack did) looks up from nibbling at an itch and pads over. Yes?
You know I'm here looking for my pup, Wells says, and the way back to my pack and my mate.
Yes, you have said, says Bruce. This one would do the same, were he ever a pack-leader himself.
Yeah, well, there's a thing, says Wells. Where I'm going there's going to be humans- a lot of 'em. Maybe even proper cities.
Bruce's ears slant back reflexively for a moment.
Sorry, mate, Wells says. It's up to you, lad. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to chance that. I can turn back now and see you into wild country safely, and then go the rest of the way on my own, but I won't make you come with me into man's world.
Bruce thinks for a while, but eventually lays his muzzle on Wells' foot. No, he says. This one does not like the lands of men- but this one has nowhere else to go. This one will come with you a while longer, he thinks.
All right, says Wells, a little flattered and a lot glad of the company.
The less said of their Isthmus crossing, the better. Arcadia was no man's land because it was a wild place; the Isthmus is no-man's land because there is no king, no rule, no law. It's bandit country, and not the good clean sort like Will Scarlett and his ilk, either. A man traveling alone, wolf companion or no, is nothing but a moving target. By the time that stretch of the journey is over, Wells has had to coax poor Bruce out of the scrubby bushes that serve as bandit cover more than once; there've been a few fools who tried to grab his armored forearms during close-in fighting, and found out the hard way that Hephaestos' gift is as powerful as it ever was.
Wells has much better armor by the time he reaches Eleusis, which is about all the good he can say came out of that journey. That and some trinkets- gold, mostly, and a jeweled belt- but those he's saving for the sanctuary at Delphi. He's never met a priest yet who wasn't more cooperative if you offered a donation for the church.
Eleusis is farming and fishing country, but there are wild hills surrounding the seaport city, and Wells stays in them until the next moon is passed. Bruce compliments him on the choice of prey come the last morning, when Wells wakes up sore and more bruised than usual. There's not much left of it, whatever it was; just an old spear-head wedged into some bizarrely huge rib bones. He washes himself off in a stream and heads down into the city, where he learns that the Eleusinian herders have been troubled of late by a particularly savage wild sow. When he hears that she was supposedly speared in the side years ago and hated men for it ever after, he produces the old, greened-over bit of bronze.
They're very pleased to see it, and call for a feast. All well and good, but it seems it's not uncommon in Eleusis to offer guests of honour a bed for the night and a bed-warmer to go with it. Wells' Greek is not much better than it was when he met Dysaules, but it's good enough to say "I'm a married man, and I swore an oath to the gods not to touch another woman while my wife lived." It puts her off with a show of honour, and avoids offending Wells' prospective host, but he takes the opportunity to slip away when no one is looking. This is Greece. Someone's probably going to offer a boy next if he sticks around much longer.
That night, as he bunks down by the side of the road that leads northward out of town, he misses Annie more than he can possibly say.
He'd wanted to ask the king about how he should begin the search for Spoon. That's not happening now, obviously- but the god had mentioned oracles. Wells is kicking himself just now for not reading more mythology in times past, but he does vaguely remember hearing about one of those at Delphi. Fine, then; Delphi it is. If he remembers right that's supposed to be a day trip out from Athens by bus, and Athens is- well, it's not here. Up for some long walking, Bruce? he asks the wolf.
Bruce's tail waves briefly. This one has nowhere to go and no pack to join, he says. This one may as well come with you.
Damn, don't be so enthusiastic, says Wells dryly. Bloody embarrassing, that is.
It takes some time to track down a village of any kind of size (not Phoroneus' village- he's not going back there for love nor money) and ask the way to Athens. It takes longer to follow the directions given. Arcadia isn't a land of roads and cities, it's a land of mountains and forests, some of the oldest Wells has ever seen. Lykaion never bothered to change that. It's annoying as fuck but there's not much to be done about it. By the time he finds another cluster of people it's nearly full moon, so he and Bruce stay as far off in mountain country as possible until those three night are past. No sense in spooking the locals.
Wells is just glad to find deer skulls in the morning instead of anything domesticated. The village isn't what you'd call prosperous, and he'd rather not prove Phoroneus right about bringing bad mojo down on people's heads just by being among them.
Bruce doesn't come into the village, of course. Wells makes bloody sure of that, for everyone's sake. One of the older women in the village says that she's been to Delphi in the past, and gives the stranger such directions as she can. She's got a few olive trees, and it's coming up on harvest time, so 'Xenophon' sticks around for long enough to help her out with the picking. He's not going to stick around for the oil-pressing, though. It'd be helpful, sure, but he's got Spoon to find.
He's not going to think about the possibility that Spoon might not be here. He's just not.
Eventually Wells and Bruce reach the limits of Arcadia and start passing through more civilized lands. The presence of so many humans, and the sheer amount of cleared land, makes the wolf intensely uncomfortable. They'll be reaching Corinth soon. From there Wells can either go into the city and take ship to cross the Gulf of Corinth, as the old woman did, or he can have a go at the Isthmus Road and head into Attica. He's got no money and no desire to spend more time working for it just to afford a ship; the Isthmus Road it is. But still...
Bruce, he says, come here, would you?
The wolf (whose hunting has improved, now that he has no one harassing him as his old pack did) looks up from nibbling at an itch and pads over. Yes?
You know I'm here looking for my pup, Wells says, and the way back to my pack and my mate.
Yes, you have said, says Bruce. This one would do the same, were he ever a pack-leader himself.
Yeah, well, there's a thing, says Wells. Where I'm going there's going to be humans- a lot of 'em. Maybe even proper cities.
Bruce's ears slant back reflexively for a moment.
Sorry, mate, Wells says. It's up to you, lad. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to chance that. I can turn back now and see you into wild country safely, and then go the rest of the way on my own, but I won't make you come with me into man's world.
Bruce thinks for a while, but eventually lays his muzzle on Wells' foot. No, he says. This one does not like the lands of men- but this one has nowhere else to go. This one will come with you a while longer, he thinks.
All right, says Wells, a little flattered and a lot glad of the company.
The less said of their Isthmus crossing, the better. Arcadia was no man's land because it was a wild place; the Isthmus is no-man's land because there is no king, no rule, no law. It's bandit country, and not the good clean sort like Will Scarlett and his ilk, either. A man traveling alone, wolf companion or no, is nothing but a moving target. By the time that stretch of the journey is over, Wells has had to coax poor Bruce out of the scrubby bushes that serve as bandit cover more than once; there've been a few fools who tried to grab his armored forearms during close-in fighting, and found out the hard way that Hephaestos' gift is as powerful as it ever was.
Wells has much better armor by the time he reaches Eleusis, which is about all the good he can say came out of that journey. That and some trinkets- gold, mostly, and a jeweled belt- but those he's saving for the sanctuary at Delphi. He's never met a priest yet who wasn't more cooperative if you offered a donation for the church.
Eleusis is farming and fishing country, but there are wild hills surrounding the seaport city, and Wells stays in them until the next moon is passed. Bruce compliments him on the choice of prey come the last morning, when Wells wakes up sore and more bruised than usual. There's not much left of it, whatever it was; just an old spear-head wedged into some bizarrely huge rib bones. He washes himself off in a stream and heads down into the city, where he learns that the Eleusinian herders have been troubled of late by a particularly savage wild sow. When he hears that she was supposedly speared in the side years ago and hated men for it ever after, he produces the old, greened-over bit of bronze.
They're very pleased to see it, and call for a feast. All well and good, but it seems it's not uncommon in Eleusis to offer guests of honour a bed for the night and a bed-warmer to go with it. Wells' Greek is not much better than it was when he met Dysaules, but it's good enough to say "I'm a married man, and I swore an oath to the gods not to touch another woman while my wife lived." It puts her off with a show of honour, and avoids offending Wells' prospective host, but he takes the opportunity to slip away when no one is looking. This is Greece. Someone's probably going to offer a boy next if he sticks around much longer.
That night, as he bunks down by the side of the road that leads northward out of town, he misses Annie more than he can possibly say.