FALSE GODS

12 Fish in a Barrel

“We found Charybdis,” Petromax repeated.

The Modo citizens had gotten down on their knees when he had arrived, and the minor gods had formed a file to bow their heads to the God-King.

When Charybdis was mentioned, there were audible gasps and murmurs. Apart from Petromax and his God-prime, nobody on the Apostolis had set eyes on the monster before. In fact, no mortal had lived to tell the tale of an encounter with Charybdis.

“That is welcome news, Your Providence,” Nerva exclaimed. “Shall I command the crew to steer the ship in its direction?”

Petromax walked to the edge of the waist deck with his hands clasped behind his back. He donned a sailor skirt and nothing else. His wooly, half-long hair and beard, braided at the ends, were dripping wet. The titan was barrel-chested, layers upon layers of muscles billowing as he walked. His torso was quartered into dollops of sinew and brawn, matted with coarse body hair.

“Tunica pliris,” he conjured in charmspeak. New garb appeared on his body- a thick gold and white fish leather tunic, a vest, and a skirt. A sheer crown manifested on the top of his head. It was pure gold, studded with yellow diamonds, sapphires, and topaz. Four arches on its frame depicted the four Houses under the Ascendancy. The crowd buzzed in amazement.

“A malevolent storm approaches,” Petromax forewarned, pointing in the direction of the gathering tempest. “It is one of Charybdis’ own making,” he added, within the earshot of the other gods.

And then he turned around to face the audience.

“My beloved citizens of Modo! Stand and rejoice! The culmination of this voyage is at hand. A few hundred stadia from where we sail, the behemoth, Charybdis, the primordial monster my forefather Titus Lucifer had tamed, lies in waiting. But we shall brave this storm first, and Charybdis will have to wait.”

The citizens made babbles of approval.

“Tonight we feast,” he declared, “because tomorrow when the skies clear, history will repeat itself. We, as the eldest descendant of Titus Lucifer, shall conquer Charybdis.” His voice boomed like benign thunder.

The patricians cheered. But there were a few sullen faces in their midst.

“Do not be afraid, my children,” he added, looking into the apprehensive eyes of the mortals. “No monster or storm shall harm you while you are under our protection.” He slapped his massive chest.

More Modo citizens had arrived above deck, and they applauded and hooted at their God-King’s reassuring words. With the crowd in high spirits, Petromax gave the nod to begin the banquet. Nerva handed out relevant orders to her subordinates.

Petromax walked among the mortals, roaring heartily. The tiny people stretched their hands to touch his garments. He had diminished his divinity enough so that they did not hurt themselves.

A few princeps stayed behind to attend to the sails and the steering.

The throng of people headed for the Great Hall to attend the banquet.

An exhaustive assortment of delicacies awaited them on long trestle tables, in silver platters- roasted chickens and ducks, ring-doves, geese, hares, young goats, and curiously molded cakes besides pigeons, turtle-doves, partridges, a roast pig, thrushes, and warblers, with pease puree, poured over Quail and goose eggs, oysters, and scallops. The seafood included squid, octopus, and shellfish.

Then there was a melange of cheeses- goat's and ewe's cheese and cow’s graviera cheese, among others, all wrapped in Drakontion leaves.

There was abundant liquor- barrels and flagons of unmixed akraton wine, both warm and chilled, served in gold-plated goblets.

For dessert, they had chestnuts, sweet toasted wheat, and honey cakes.

Every table had platters laden with fruits and nuts- chief among them were dried figs, raisins, pomegranates, grilled chestnuts, chickpeas, and beechnuts. The condiments would help soak up the liquor and extend the drinking reverie.

Elemental dancers, acrobats, and musicians entertained the banqueters.

After hours of feasting, drinking, and revelry, Petromax urged the guests to continue while he retired to his cabin.

Nerva was aware of what the God-King would crave for later. He’d want company for the night.

The Modo patricians had brought enticing women as a tribute, but they would be inadequate for the bed of Marcus Petromax. A mortal touching a titan would collapse into fits; such is the fallout of the divinity’s embrace. Besides, the King was never himself during lovemaking.

One of the princeps, inducted into House Petromax the previous year, was a natural beauty. Nerva approached her by walking to the end of the table.

“Lia, is it?”

“Yes, your primeship,” said the girl, rushing to her feet.

Lia was short for a goddess at the height of five feet seven. She will grow soon, Nerva judged. Once granted divinity, mortals grow up to a foot in height. Their physical strength and agility quadruple, and the divine protection of a titan renders them immortal to the effects of age and disease. Lia was twenty-one years old when the House took her in. She was exceptional in bending the earth element. However, her beauty was reminiscent of a far corner of Pago. She was a rarity, with sea-green hair and an exquisite body befitting a goddess. Things that Petromax will not fail to appreciate.

“You will pay a visit to His Providence’s chamber an hour later and be his woman tonight. Do you possess the fortitude for this task?”

“Your primeship,” Lia’s excited voice rang, “I would like nothing better in my life as a goddess than to serve our God-King, whenever called upon. I am glad for the opportunity.”

Nerva nodded impassively and returned to the helm of the table. As a prime to Petromax, she was envious of the girl. Nerva had offered herself several times to Petromax, but he had always refused summarily, saying he would not lay with his most trusted soldier. But Nerva was hopeful that he’d desire her one day. Carnal relations with the other primes and priors felt deficient, leaving her unsatisfied. She did have a good time once with Estevan, the prime of House Anaximander. But she lost interest quickly. Primes spent most of the time speaking of their titans.

Sleeping with another titan was forbidden as well for primes. And Nerva was loyal to a fault. Anaximander was bewitching to look at, but he was not half as powerful as Petromax.

She guzzled down an entire flagon of wine to drown her thoughts.