Tonight I dine with my father, who is ever diligent of his responsibility as host. Of this I am glad, for I think his wife, Medeia, is not honest in her welcome. There is something in the darkness of her eyes and, although I have not pronounced myself, I thinks she knows well who I am. Still, this shall be my last entry before I reveal my parentage to my father so I will account of my time in Attica and my arrival in Athens proper.
Attica is a land very lush in small plant life and I felt my step lighten over the dark grasses as I beheld the sparkling river, Kephisos. I approached and laid down my club and sack and looked out at the other side of the water. So absorbed was I, that I didn't hear Phytalus' five sons approach and greet me. I am an honorable man and revealed myself their kinsmen's killer as they are cousins to Sinis. However, they knew of Sinis' malign intent and forgave me his death. All five men bade me walk with them and before the alter of Gracious Zeus, Zeus Meilichios, I held myself pliant as they purified my soul at the stone slab, my head bowed. That this clan, a kin to Sinis, offered their blessing is telling to the rightness of my journey and I continued on my way to Athens pure of heart and relieved of my sin. It is a good way to greet a father, I think.
As it happened, I come into Athens on my father's sacred day. 'Tis the eighth day of Kronos and I located my father's household at the temple of Apollo Delphinios celebrating the day with much flair. The temple is incomplete, having no dome to it, but I shall be grateful for this, come time for me to sit with Aegis. There are many in attendance and my ears rang as I found them there, with the gleeful laughter and spoken word of so many.
I have not revealed myself, as I say, but requested shelter as a guest of Athens, which my father's steward easily granted. I glimpsed both my father and his wife briefly and it was as my eyes met hers, that I sensed her recognition of me. It was, in fact, the narrowing of her gaze and the feeling of ill emanating from her, that stayed my voice from declaring myself then. What provoked my concern, I can not identify, but I shall rectify my silence this evening.
No more shall I write in this book, of my life. I shall begin a new accounting as the son of the king of Athens and celebrate my union with my father as I celebrate divesting the road between my mother's land, Troezen, and my father's land Athens. Theseus of Troezen is no more!
Friday, May 04, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Diary of Theseus- Kerkyon at Eleusis
There are many tales of my travels I would impart on the page, but alas I near Athens and my tales must be written in more formal form there. I admit to a certain hesitancy at meeting my father. He is a great man who rules far and wide. How shall I be received by him? I have cared for his sword and sandals and have cleared the the roads to Athens of those that divide the land. I am his man now yet I hope he shall be proud to call me son. But I dwell, and the sun lowers on the horizon. I must recount of Kerkyon as I traveled from Megara to Eleusis.
I heard him before I saw him, so blustering and arrogant a man he was. His booming voice was heard as he bragged of his strength as a determination of his right to rule the land. To say nothing of being a leader, only a tyrant understands it takes more than strength to lay claim to the land. Intelligence and diplomacy as well must rule a leader's heart. And it was with those tools that he was bested. Not his strength. I heard his voice as I paced up the dry road to Athens. I could not see the path beyond the hill I climbed, but he took no care to lay siege to me, but yelled from where he waited, "There is a traveler I hear upon my road. Your steps are firm and heavy, so you must be a man of impressive stature and confidence. Come and test your strength, be you man enough to try. Come!" But I am not so young I rush into battle. My courage comes from perseverance and I continued at my pace and leisure then finally came upon him.
Although a man, he looked like a monster. His facial features were decidedly serpentine in nature, long face with a flat nose and a head elongated as a newly-born babe. But all this would not have phased me. It was the tail that jutted out from behind him. My stomach turned to see the limp appendage swinging to and fro behind him. I made small order of this monstrosity for Kerkyon is a man who kills with his hands and I have said true skill requires more than strength. As he grabbed for me, I twisted to catch his torso and hoisted him above my head. Twisting, I spun him by his legs, a skill great Herakles imparted to me as he visited my grandfather in my youth. With a large thrust, he flew into the air and I listened to him scream in disgust. I am not so powerful, yet the manner to my throw cast him up then down in such fashion that he landed with a crash.
The sound grated at my ears. He did not move and, from the position of his body, I saw he was dead. I approached, and knelt to touch him and found the bones in his face crushed. Such are those who would divide Athens, punished. It is time to sleep. I shall write the last entry of my journey when my feet pass Hermes marker at Athens.
I heard him before I saw him, so blustering and arrogant a man he was. His booming voice was heard as he bragged of his strength as a determination of his right to rule the land. To say nothing of being a leader, only a tyrant understands it takes more than strength to lay claim to the land. Intelligence and diplomacy as well must rule a leader's heart. And it was with those tools that he was bested. Not his strength. I heard his voice as I paced up the dry road to Athens. I could not see the path beyond the hill I climbed, but he took no care to lay siege to me, but yelled from where he waited, "There is a traveler I hear upon my road. Your steps are firm and heavy, so you must be a man of impressive stature and confidence. Come and test your strength, be you man enough to try. Come!" But I am not so young I rush into battle. My courage comes from perseverance and I continued at my pace and leisure then finally came upon him.
Although a man, he looked like a monster. His facial features were decidedly serpentine in nature, long face with a flat nose and a head elongated as a newly-born babe. But all this would not have phased me. It was the tail that jutted out from behind him. My stomach turned to see the limp appendage swinging to and fro behind him. I made small order of this monstrosity for Kerkyon is a man who kills with his hands and I have said true skill requires more than strength. As he grabbed for me, I twisted to catch his torso and hoisted him above my head. Twisting, I spun him by his legs, a skill great Herakles imparted to me as he visited my grandfather in my youth. With a large thrust, he flew into the air and I listened to him scream in disgust. I am not so powerful, yet the manner to my throw cast him up then down in such fashion that he landed with a crash.
The sound grated at my ears. He did not move and, from the position of his body, I saw he was dead. I approached, and knelt to touch him and found the bones in his face crushed. Such are those who would divide Athens, punished. It is time to sleep. I shall write the last entry of my journey when my feet pass Hermes marker at Athens.
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