The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) (3 page)

Silence.  Only harmless waves now bumped into Diedrika from each direction – neither whale had collided into the shields.  She released them and hurriedly surfaced.  Her disheartened eyes did not meet black and white sketching their way across the water, but pastels of orange and blue painting the sky.  The sun had departed.  And so too had any trace of the Orcas.

Diedrika took in long, deep breaths and bobbed along the surface for many moments.  She hoped the whales would return, but none did.  Not tonight, at least.  She took her time as she then swam back toward the beach.

“Princess!  Princess!” Penelope shouted as she rushed toward Diedrika as fast as she could with her walking sticks.

Spent both mentally and physically, Diedrika exited where stones made smooth from an eternal washing at the hands of the always-moving sea covered the sand.  Penelope now close, Diedrika inspected her.  She looked like a wretched creature who had been plunged into the spirit world of the dead, somehow escaped to cheat death, and moments ago returned to the land of the living.  She shook uncontrollably and her skin was the palest blue Diedrika had ever seen on a Mermaid.  Forget blue – Penelope was Sapien white!

Diedrika’s heart thumped so hard and fast, she half expected it to erupt from her chest and land in her hands.  Penelope’s bluish hue now starting to return, she kissed Diedrika on the forehead, then the cheek, and hugged her.  Pulling back, but saying nothing, they locked eyes.

“Whoa!  That – was –
amazing
!” Diedrika exclaimed through gulping breaths.  “I challenge Poseidon to match that!”

A squeaky chuckle escaped Penelope as she continued to gawk at Diedrika.  “Adventure-driven madness has gripped you … you are beyond reckless … and every Mermaid – no matter if hero, villain, prince, or peasant – will follow you
wherever
you choose to lead us.  You may not be our queen yet, but as of this day, you are my queen now.”

Words Diedrika yearned to hear since she was a youngling spoken; she hugged Penelope.  They then gathered their belongings and headed for the carriage.  Once they reached the cliff overhang where Penelope had watched from, Diedrika looked back at the sea.  And to her delight, caught sight of a single Orca about halfway between the shoreline and where she had met the pod.

“The matriarch.…”

Diedrika had failed for now, but for this future queen, failure was just the first step to success.  As for the next steps that needed to be taken….

That is what tomorrows were for.

*****

“You have been at this for three days already – I can’t believe you are going to try
again
!”  For the fourth consecutive evening, Diedrika and Penelope headed for the sea as dusk wrapped itself around Atagartis and kissed the Mermaid capital goodnight.

“But I’m so close, Penelope!  I can feel it – tonight is the night.  Besides, I have no choice, really.  Like us, Orcas have no master.  If I am to push our kind to attain those heights I hunger for us to reach, then we
must
become masters of not just Atagartis, but of the whole sea and every creature in it.”

Penelope dropped off at her usual perch, Diedrika nearly tripped over her walking sticks she was so excited.  The pod was again prowling about and the matriarch … Diedrika’s heart sank – the matriarch was not with them.  With a heavy sigh, her chin crashed into her chest.  Then suddenly, she heard the rush of watery air explode through a blowhole.  This sound was close, very close.  Diedrika swung around and her gaze froze as she sighted the matriarch.  This gorgeous whale now patrolled much closer to the shoreline than Diedrika had ever seen any Orca.

She headed straight for the polished rocks that jutted out from shore, entered the sea, and slowly, though eagerly, submerged.  As Diedrika descended, it struck her of the amazing differences a few days had made.  The day of her first attempt, she was nervous and scared – rightly so, she reminded herself – but today she was full of hope and almost at ease.

The matriarch slowed as Diedrika swam past her.  Only twenty-five pike lengths or so from shore, these shoals were almost shallow enough for her to touch the bottom with her tail.  In more awe of their beauty than ever before, it suddenly hit Diedrika: This was the first time she had seen an Orca up close that was not flying through the air or steamrolling toward her.  Those distinct black and white markings meshing perfectly, such simplicity was pure genius.

Diedrika swam in a circle around the magnificent whale, who now swam in this same path, but just a bit behind her.  She rolled over onto her back.  They were now face-to-face.

“As I see you now, I realize we are even more alike than I first believed.  Powerful tails to propel ourselves through the water … two eyes with which to lock onto our prey … members of a species with no fear of any other.  And this, my friend, is the paradox we are faced with: The sea can only serve one master and that master is me.”

The matriarch, of course, understood none of what Diedrika spoke.  Her soft voice, however, seemed to soothe the whale.  She appeared relaxed and now floated closer.  Diedrika reached out with a single hand and touched with each fingertip the matriarch’s nose.  The whale coming even closer, Diedrika began to massage this nose and continued to speak kind words to her.

Under a full moon and its bright light eager to see greatness assert itself, an enchanted friendship began.  Diedrika now swam alongside the matriarch and rubbed wherever her skin rose above the water’s surface.  As the night wore on, she even allowed Diedrika to lie on her glacier white stomach as she floated on her back.  As they frolicked together long past midnight, the sky appeared to celebrate as the greenish glow of an aurora danced overhead.

Finally, the two parted company and Diedrika made her way back to Penelope.  They met at the same rocky outpost where Diedrika had entered the sea.

“I don’t believe it,” Penelope blurted.  “I mean, I saw it – was bewildered and amazed the whole time by it – but I still can’t believe my eyes.”

A raging fire fueled by boundless confidence burned inside Diedrika, but on the outside she felt as calm as the gentle early morning breeze now tickling her face
.

It was one thing to think there was nothing you could not do, it was quite another to know it.  Implicitly, beyond any doubt.

Diedrika peered into Penelope’s eyes and, as would a teacher to her student, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  The lecture came next:

“The failure of your heart to believe what your eyes and mind tell you;
this
is why Penelope writes of Diedrika and not the other way around.  Nevertheless, take comfort in your treasured role and the stylus you wield.  For behold, my sweet Penelope, great historian, greater friend … our kind is on the precipice of a golden age those before us have only dreamed of.”

*****

For over a month, they had trained tirelessly together.  Every day after dinner, through the night, until the wee hours of the morning – it was time to ‘report’ on their progress.  Diedrika peeked above the gently rolling waves and took a gander at the six bodies wandering aimlessly along the sandy shores; sure enough, Penelope had brought them all.  With two pats of her left hand, they dove to the bottom of the sea and swung around in the direction of the shoreline.  A rub, then three pats with her right hand ––

Tearing through the deep water, they rushed passed the submerged others awaiting Diedrika’s signal.  The signal given, these monochrome others then joined in behind.  Repeated clicks bouncing all about, full speed gained, the dark depths becoming shimmering light, they made their grand entrance.

With Diedrika on her back, the Orca matriarch exploded out of the water.  As they soared through the air, she caught looks of shock and awe sprout on each face; even Penelope had yet to see this.  The matriarch landed nose first in a thunderous, yet graceful, manner and, with Diedrika still riding her, disappeared beneath the waves.  They then resurfaced, and the matriarch now barreled straight for the beach.  With a slight bump, the spectacular whale rose fully from the sea and, where foaming water became white sands, came to a gentle halt.  Diedrika unhitched herself from her makeshift saddle and slid off the Orca’s left side.

“Powerful, magnificent – they learn with little effort and anticipate without fail!” Diedrika said breathlessly as she glided toward the six stunned statues of blue and gold gawking at her.  “This one is the matriarch.  I named her Cheslakees.”

Diedrika turned to the sea; the other whales now swam twenty pike lengths at most from the shore.  Cheslakees thrashed from side to side – moving backward as she did so – and soon slipped back into the water to join the rest of the pod.  The eight whales appeared at ease so close to the shoreline and the massive bull – ‘Kwagu’ kept popping into Diedrika’s head, but she wasn’t sure if this would be his name – looked as though he was trying to smash his flukes atop every incoming wave.

“It’s time, Mother,” Diedrika continued as she sucked in a huge gulp of air.  “Time to bring the Orcas under our banner … time to declare our mastery over the seas!  I know you told me to do just the opposite, but I couldn’t.  My birthright, our destiny – I’m sorry, Mother, but for me, there are some deeds words just cannot meddle with.  No matter who speaks them.”

To Diedrika’s surprise, Andromeda wrapped both arms around her and squeezed her tight.  As the Queen Mother wiped away tears, she turned to Penelope.

“A legend who has already had more written of her than has ever been written about me; making the impossible appear merely difficult while making what is merely difficult appear simple, you are going to need more copper plates, Penelope.”

“They gather around us as if we are old friends,” Perseos laughed as he too hugged Diedrika and kissed her forehead.  “Unlimited courage, bravery without bounds – just to attempt to tame an Orca, and
then
actually do this ––”

“But why, Granddaughter?” called a soft, but firm voice.  “
Why
risk your life to bring Orcas under your domain?  Not for sport nor simply a challenge, that is not your style.  Considering this, what
exactly
will be their purpose?”

Cassiopeia was by far the vainest Mermaid alive – even she would freely admit this.  Andromeda’s mother and once queen herself, she had also served as historian for many years.  And because of these dual roles, Cassiopeia was probably the most perceptive Mermaid alive as well.  Perceptive enough to know that if it was great power Diedrika sought – and it surely was – then to attain this great power, she was going to have to rock that happy little boat that was their world.  Hard.  And if a good many Mermaids fell off, then so be it.  She only cared about the ones with the courage to weather the storm that was her ambition.

Diedrika glided toward Cassiopeia; they were now barely a hand away from each other.  “You know their purpose, Grandmother.  More than anyone.  And when you find the courage to enlighten the rest of them, feel free to do so.”

She passed by Cassiopeia’s flush face now sporting a violet tint and made her way to greet the Gryphon king, Simonacles, and Gryphon historian, Hezekiah.

“We are speechless, my future queen,” Simonacles said as Diedrika bowed.

“A grand achievement,” Hezekiah added, “that I will be sure to spend a great deal of time scribing about.”

“Thank you, my king, thank you, wise historian.  The summer conference with your fellow historians but a month away – now you and Penelope will have something worth talking about.”

“You have certainly made sure of that, Princess,” Hezekiah said kindly.

Pleasantries out of the way, it was time for words that meant something.  “You have always been upfront with me, dear king, so I will return the favor.  Gryphons have armor.  Mermaids have armor.  Why should Orcas not have armor too?”

Although Mermaids molded most of their own armor and weapons with bronze smelted by Gryphons, for those the West
really
couldn’t afford to let die, Gryphon bronzesmiths crafted all arms and armaments requiring more brains than brawn.  If Diedrika was going to use Orcas in the way she foresaw, they were going to need this very best armor.  And lots of it.

“This is just one pod,” King Simonacles drawled, “but I know there are many others who live about the sea.  Do you plan on imposing your charm on them as well?”

“Absolutely.”

“Including these other pods, how many Orcas in total?”

Diedrika thought hard for a moment.  “I would guess at least a hundred and fifty, but no more than two hundred.”

“A clever design needing a clever mind,” Simonacles bellowed, “it would appear Hezekiah has a great deal of work ahead of him!”

“And I relish the challenge, my king.  Although I am not much for water, I can see clearly the magnificence of these animals.”  Hezekiah then paused for a moment as he looked passed Diedrika’s shoulder.  “It is one thing for these whales to take kindly to another creature that swims in the same sea, but for one that soars through the sky and owns these,” he held up a front limb and wiggled his talons, “that is another thing entirely.  I am pretty sure they are not going to take much of a liking to us.”

“That
is
a good point.”  Diedrika’s stomach began to rumble.  Suddenly an idea – one that had much more to do with the forests south of Atagartis than the beaches and seas to the north – wandered into her mind.  “Hmmm … I wonder if they like the taste of elk.”