Chapter 3: mega dramaticWhen Marduniya woke up, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been awake

Chapter 3: mega dramaticWhen Marduniya woke up, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been awake. Then again the circumstances weren’t favorable to reflection. Everything was moving, how had he fallen asleep on a bucking horse? No, he was in a wooden room, it must be an earthquake! He fell off the pallet and attempted to crawl under the table. There was pounding on the walls from the outside, and shrieking wind. This is wrong, it’s taking too long and moving side to side! Suddenly, the door was thrown open by an old man. Have I lost my mind? He’s shouting but nothing makes any sense! The language sounded loopy with staccato endings… he wasn’t mad, the old man was just a Yauna. Three voices from behind him answered his call. Marduniya whipped around, where had they come from? A pale girl with her hands pressed against her mouth and two angry men. Water flowed from behind the first man. What a strange dream he thought as the whole world suddenly turned, the table he sheltered under fell under him, and three bodies were tossed against him. He still couldn’t understand when water lapped up to him, slowly at first, then all of a sudden it was pressing against his body, his mouth, his throat. A pair of hands grabbed him as he banged his head against the floor-turned ceiling and the doorframe. He inhaled in a burning rush, just a few seconds shy of surfacing from the water. The wound in his chest also burned like a brand. Could this be the burning river of ordeal? It all came back to him. The battle at Issus. He was dead, he was undergoing his trials, to burn off the impurities of his soul and enter paradise with whatever was left. But why am I with these Yauna then? They don’t worship the wise god… why aren’t my father and uncle here, I saw them fall too… He was starting to sink again when the hands flung him over the remains of the mast, the buoyant wood keeping them afloat. The owner of the hands got right in his face, “You will kick.” he said, conjugating his verbs in the old Persian style. His dark wet beard and wild eyes put Marduniya in mind of the great guardian sculptures in the palace at Nineveh. So he wasn’t in the wrong place, there was something to guide him on this trial. He just had to kick to reach the other side.It was difficult. The sea was roiling around them and his limbs felt weak, obviously since he was dead. The burning at his chest wouldn’t let up. He reflected on his past transgressions. I never told a real lie… but I may have misrepresented the truth. But only murderers and traitors burnt to nothing on the River of Ordeal, and he had killed plenty of lizards in his short life. He remembered a priest in the great temple at Zadrakarta assuring him once when he went to the capital of Varkana. His father…was…. a lord of a manor who swore fealty to the satrap of [Varkana or Parthia?]. The priest had taken off his white mask once they had walked a respectable distance from the great flame altar and stated, for an additional fee, he would be sure to count towards the relief of sins of any man going soldiering in the west. And then they had left with the rest of the satraps division. As a young nobleman he was attached to an officer. He had expected more action. Before Issus, it was all riding, currying the horses, riding, watering the horse, riding, feeding the horses. At least he didn’t have to walk like the common soldiers. Then that gujastak, the accursed one, had caught them while they were waiting for the naval reinforcement. It was hard to say if he had acquitted himself well, he’d been in the [right arm??] crossing the river. He’d cut someone at least, and gotten cut in return before everything seemed to collapse around him. He didn’t make the choice to flee, as soon as the left saw the King’s chariot flying, all the horses seemed to move as a herd. But his beautiful storm gray charger had gotten hit in the neck, he remembered now, and had fallen and that was probably when he had died.There was a horse here, too, he could hear it snorting as it swam. It wasn’t his though, dun as it was. Across the water there was only stars, could it be they were swimming straight into the sky?…—-They’d lost their sailor when the boat capsized. Poor old bastard, the sea always gets them in the end, Tydeus thought. Though Xanthe was still swimming by them so that was something. The wind had picked up before the storm, he prayed they had gone a good enough distance to at least be close to the southern islands of the Aegean. At least the rain had stopped, though the sea still churned. Alkyone’s hands slipped off the remnants of the mast again and he pulled them back up. “Hold on and kick!” he commanded, but she was muttering to herself through mouthfuls of water “Alkyone, it’s all such a bad joke! So much for their goat!…”Nothon had his head down and was kicking doggedly. It may have been the only thing trustworthy about him, but Tydeus knew he could trust the man’s instinct for self-preservation. Shockingly, the Persian who had spent the past few hours shaking from ague was kicking as well. The cold sea water is probably doing him some good.The first inch of gray dawn was starting to appear. If they were by the islands like he’d planned, then the earliest fishermen would putting out their boats. He had to get their attention. “HELP! CREW IN DISTRESS!” all his companions jerked at once. Looks like he still had his naval crew voice. “Hello?” A call came, barely audible over the waves, and the group was reinvigorated. They continued kicking, until a boat with two figures was visible as a shadow on the horizon. Two fisherman, younger and older, gawked at them. “Did you all get caught in the storm?” “… I don’t suppose you have room for our horse?” -- source link

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