The Saga of Tythoros Ch. 10

This is my attempt at a "porn parody" (for lack of a better description) of Ancient Greek mythology. It is not a direct adaptation of any one story, but an original tale made of tropes and archetypes pulled from several Greek myths. The intention was not only to create a work of erotic fantasy, but an epic saga that paid loving tribute to the poets and playwrights of antiquity.

Thank you for reading. Please enjoy.

Chapter 10

After a well-deserved night's rest, Tythoros and his companions walked south to the River Nestos. They carried their precious and deadly cargo beside the river, following the water to the Theban colony of Abdera. Sing, Muses, of what dreadful surprises were disclosed there.

On each side of the gates to Abdera, there stood a tower manned by a sentry. In front of the gates, two armed soldiers were stationed. With their spears, they moved to keep the approaching strangers at bay.

"Halt!" shouted a sentry. "No one may enter this town. Turn away this instant!"

Sidrophus stepped forward. "I am Sidrophus, the son of Ammochrusios, king of Thebes. My companions and I are returning from an errand for my father, to whom you owe allegiance. You will let us pass."

The soldiers talked among themselves at this. One of them called to a tower sentry. "Send for the lady Cleia!"

Sidrophus was stunned. "My sister, the princess Cleia, is here in Abdera?"

"She is," the soldier replied. "If you speak truly, then she will vouch for you."

After a short time, the gates did open to reveal the princess of Thebes. Overcome with joy, her eyes shining with tears, she ran toward her brother and embraced him tightly.

"Oh, Sidrophus, you are here and alive!" she cried.

"My companions and I are well," the prince answered. "And we are victorious."

Tythoros held his bundle aloft. "We bring the poisoned barb of Dusedre, that beast your father sent us to slay."

Cleia looked to Tythoros, and regret clouded her face. "Oh, Tythoros!" she wailed. "I beg your forgiveness. These past few days, I have prayed to the gods for your swift and horrible death. If only I could snatch those horrid words from the gods' ears, now that I see Sidrophus alive!"

Sidrophus tried to calm her. "Come, dear sister," he said in a soothing tone. "I can see that we have much to discuss. Let us go to our father so we may share our tales and give him the wretched treasure he sent us for."

Cleia's sobbing was redoubled at his words. "Alas, Sidrophus! Our lord and father Ammochrusios lies dead in the palace of Thebes!"

Sidrophus was too stunned and saddened by this news to speak. Instead, it was Tythoros who asked the heavy questions of "When?" and "How?"

"Treason," was the horrid reply. The memory sent fresh tremors through Cleia's body and voice. "Murderous treason and conspiracy. Father had called for a gathering at our public square to announce his latest military campaign, but fate silenced him first. With all of Thebes as witness, Klinopa -- sweet, foolish Klinopa! -- came forth to bury her knife in Ammochrusios' back."

"Who is Klinopa?" asked Callioa.

"Who is this wench?" asked Cleia, forgetting her manners in her grief.

Tythoros held his companion back while answering. "This is Callioa, good lady. She is an ally we found during our travels. But if you please, precisely who is Klinopa?"

"She was Xalchon's lover," Sidrophus answered, his heart filled with rage. "She was the concubine of Cleia's husband, my brother by marriage, and she will pay for this bloody deed."

"Klinopa has already paid the ultimate price," said Cleia. "She was slaughtered by the royal guard as the king still lay dying."

"This stinks of Xalchon's planning," Sidrophus said through gritted teeth.

"Xalchon took the throne immediately," Cleia admitted. "Our dear mother -- may the gods bless her old and fragile heart! -- died of grief when our father was so brutally slain. With the king dead and his son away from the kingdom, there was no one else to stand in his way."

"Alas, poor sister!" lamented Sidrophus. "Both our parents dead and our birthright taken from us by force?! We must go to Thebes at once and make that traitor pay!"

"We cannot go to Thebes," replied Cleia. "The city is barred from us."

"You cannot be afraid of your husband," intervened Tythoros, "not when the rightful king has returned!"

"Thebes is barred from us," Cleia repeated, "because no human reigns there now. Mere days after Xalchon's coronation, the city was beset by Thracian Maenads. They caught us completely by surprise and turned entire houses to rubble. Our weapons were useless against them, and the streets ran red with the blood of our people. Countless men, women, and children all lay dead."

The princess collapsed, weighed down by the burden of such horrific memories. "Xalchon himself went to challenge the invaders, but not even his great strength or broad armor could save him. I watched as those abominations tore my husband limb from limb, shredding him to pieces with their sharp nails and teeth."

She looked up at Sidrophus. "The whole time, they waved Theban garments through the air. They carried your clothes, nearly torn to ribbons. Oh, Sidrophus! I knew in that moment that you had been sent by our father to die!"

The princess wept openly on her brother's shoulder and he took her into a reassuring embrace.

"Dry these tears, Cleia," he insisted. "My heart is heavy with so many ill tidings, yet I am alive and I am here."

"But pray tell us," asked Tythoros, "how did you come to be here?"

"When Xalchon died," the princess answered, "I gathered our children and all the palace servants we could find. I guided them through the secret passage in the catacombs of our palace that leads outside the city. From there, we made our way to Abdera, where we may rebuild our kingdom."

"You will not rebuild it here," said Tythoros. "There is still hope that we may reclaim your city."

"We cannot face the occupying Maenads!" cried Cleia. "Every weapon of Thebes was used against them, but none could kill or even scare those beasts!"

"There is one weapon you have not yet tried."

***

That very night, Tythoros and his companions took a crew of boatmen and set sail. With Poseidon's grace, the company docked only a few days later in the coastal town of Delium. After a brief rest, they carried their precious cargo on foot to the city of Thebes.

Of the seven gates in the mighty wall that surrounded inner Thebes, one stood open, empty and silent. No man or beast stood to guard it, to close it, or to pass through it. That lonely gate was the ultimate emblem of how wounded and vulnerable the city had become.

There was no life anywhere in sight, save only for the birds which came to feast on corpses in the streets. Buildings were toppled, the streets were dyed red with blood, and fragments of various body parts were scattered everywhere. This once-proud city had become a festering cesspool of rot and disease.

It was a vision to break the heart of any mortal who looked upon it, but Tythoros and Sidrophus were consoled with the knowledge that they would soon take the city back.

"Do we know that they are still here?" Tythoros asked. As if in reply, a horrific shriek was heard from the other side of the gate. It was a sound Sidrophus knew all too well.

"They are here," he seethed.

"Let us go back and set up camp outside the city," said Tythoros. "It would be unwise to go any further until nightfall."

"I only wish I could help you dispatch those foul beasts," growled Sidrophus.

"As do I," replied Tythoros. "But your people will need their rightful king alive and well, whether we succeed or not."

***

When nightfall came, Tythoros loaded his pack with all the wineskins it could carry.

"We will be back by daybreak," said Tythoros.

"See that you are," returned Sidrophus. "I cannot bear the thought of leaving you behind."

After trading wishes for good luck, the company split. Sidrophus stayed behind as Tythoros and Callioa ran through the open gate.

The two moved quickly and quietly. Their noses had been plugged with wax, to block out the stench of putrefaction around them. Callioa had gone to help track the Maenads, though it turned out there was no need. An enormous bonfire sent up smoke as it illuminated the city. She led the way toward the fire, keeping a lookout for trouble while Tythoros carried the weight of two dozen wineskins.

The bonfire was located in the remains of a marketplace. The Maenads had cleared it out so they could dance, play music, fornicate, and drink around their fire. The followers of Dionysus greatly coveted their wine, and nearly came to blows when a vase ran dry. They screeched and swiped their claws at each other, fighting over the last cup of wine even as many other vases lay waiting to be opened.

Slosh!

A peculiar sound was heard by the edge of the marketplace. The Maenads turned to see a wineskin sitting on the cobblestones. In their addled memory and impaired judgment, none of them could recall seeing a wineskin there previously.

Still, when the Maenads went to inspect the container, they found that it was indeed full of wine. They fought over it for a time, until they found another wineskin close by. Indeed, there appeared to be a trail of wineskins leading outward from the marketplace. In their gluttony and inebriation, the Maenads followed this trail and drank every drop of wine they came across.

When only one Maenad remained in need of drink, the streets behind her erupted in screams. These were not the usual incoherent cries of anger or lust, but gargling screams of unbearable agony that faded too quickly into silence.

She ran back to the campsite, only to find that all of her sisters lay dead or dying. With a great roar of anger and bloodlust, the Maenad ran to find a responsible party. She paid no mind to the wineskins, nor did she run with any sense of direction. She thought of nothing but bloody revenge.

That Maenad spent many hours running through the streets, screaming in rage and destroying everything in sight while searching for whatever it was that had killed her sisters. After completely exhausting her strength, the Maenad finally heard a noise.

She followed the sound of a bird call, so single-minded in her pursuit that she failed to notice Callioa hiding as she passed.

Shortly after the Maenad passed her, Callioa leaped out to thrust her mighty arms under the beast's shoulders and up around her head. At the very same instant, with the Maenad's sharp talons pinned above, Tythoros darted from his hiding place to force the opening of a wineskin into her mouth.

Neither of these mortals would have stood a chance against a Maenad of Thrace, but they acted too quickly for such a tired Maenad to offer any resistance. Instead, the womanly beast took a moment to eagerly swallow the sweet wine pouring down her throat.

The inhuman followers of Dionysus were able to drink any libation of mortal craft. They could even drink tinctures of hemlock or aconite with no ill results. But the venom in that wineskin had been made from a godly curse.

The Maenad screamed and thrashed violently, but she was too weak to break free from Callioa's hold. She could not even spit out the drink, for Tythoros' strong hands gripped her nose and throat. Though the Maenad was too strong for Dusedre's poison to kill her instantly or quietly, her body did finally go slack as the last breath of air sighed from her lips.

When daybreak came, the city of Thebes lay entirely still. Tythoros and Callioa had left to present Sidrophus with the corpse of the last Maenad. They had left her sisters limp and lifeless, killed by their own foolish gluttony.

***

"He will pay," seethed Dionysus. From high on Olympus, he watched as Tythoros emerged victorious. "He will suffer madness and agonies until the end of his days. I will make him suffer for this!"

"For what?" boomed a voice behind him. Dionysus turned around to face Zeus who marshals the storm clouds.

"My lord and father," Dionysus asserted, "surely you bore witness as Tythoros slaughtered my Thracian Maenads!"

"He killed your ageless consorts after they had invaded Thebes," answered Zeus.

"That is true, my lord," began Dionysus, but Zeus did not let him finish.

"And why did your Thracian Maenads invade Thebes to begin with?" questioned the supreme ruler. "What brought them so far from their home to attack this city?"

Dionysus remained silent. He could not shame himself by answering truly, yet he dared not lie to Father Zeus.

"Were they provoked in some way?" Zeus continued. "Were they brought to Thebes by force? Speak!"

Dionysus looked down, unable to meet the Olympian's gaze. "I can offer no explanation, my lord," he muttered.

"Your Maenads traveled over many leagues to attack a city for reasons you do not claim to know," Zeus thundered. "Either you are a liar, twice-born Dionysus, or you are incompetent. Either way, Tythoros will not be punished for defending Thebes from an undeserved assault, nor will he be disciplined for your stupidity. Is that understood?"

Dionysus shrank before the fiery gaze of Zeus who wields the thunderbolt. In a tiny voice, Dionysus said "I hear and obey, my lord."

Content with this answer, Zeus left to join Hera. They sat beside each other on their neighboring thrones, presiding over Olympus.

"I expect you know that Tythoros and his companions have retaken Thebes," Zeus said to his wife.

"I have learned as much," Hera coolly replied.

"He was born an orphan, his wife was cruelly taken from him, he faced rough terrain and a number of dangerous beasts, yet he still accomplished his quest and so much more."

"Indeed," Hera replied tersely.

"He has overcome many hardships that no mortal was ever meant to face. It is almost as if some immortal force attempted to block his way."

Hera turned to glare at him. "Do you accuse me of trying to harm him?" she hissed.

"I do not," Zeus answered, "for if the great queen of Olympus had truly meant to kill him, he would most assuredly be dead by now. Is that not so, my love?"

"It is as you say," answered Hera, discreetly clenching her fists.

They spoke no more of Tythoros, and turned to other matters throughout the cosmos. But for many eons afterward, Zeus would recall the way Hera's fists clenched in that moment. The memory would always bring him a proud smile.

***

Four months after the Maenads had been cleared out, a circle of sacrificial altars was erected. Cups of wine and various trinkets had been placed upon them, along with the bones and fat of all the most bountiful offerings in Thebes.

A woman, veiled and clad entirely in white robes embroidered with gold, stood by Tythoros as he lit the holy pyres. Tythoros himself was garbed in extravagant robes of deepest scarlet.

In seven great blazes, the tributes were sent up to Zeus, Athena, Artemis, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite, and Hera.

"Mighty gods of Olympus," Tythoros intoned, "we are eternally grateful for the favors you have granted us. With these humble offerings, we pray that you continue to watch over us."

With a look toward the veiled woman, Tythoros added, "We shall honor the Olympians to the end of our days if only you would lend your aid to make this marriage a happy one."

The prayers went up to the heavens, and they were heard.

***

It was a clear and starry night as the hearth roared with flame in the palace of Thebes. The banquet hall was filled with the light and warmth of a dozen torches. Musicians played merry tunes over the growing volume of roars and laughter. The hall's enormous tables were covered with all manner of succulent meats, fruits, cakes, and jugs of wine.

The men and women sat at separate tables, yet they were all united in gratitude to Tythoros. They were among the Theban families who had come back to rebuild their homes, and their work could not have been made possible if not for the groom of this wedding. For weeks, they watched in awe as Tythoros hauled stone blocks and fallen trees for as long as his tireless muscles could carry them. Dozens of houses had been built in only a few days, all thanks to him.

Of course, the citizens of Thebes were deeply in debt to the bride as well. She had helped the local farmers to restore the city's crops and livestock, keeping the citizens healthy and fed through the reconstruction effort. These two strangers had brought the city back from destruction, and the city was eager to bless their union in return.

When the time came, Sidrophus rose from the banquet table. With the scepter of his forefathers in hand, he proceeded to the front of the hall. Tythoros and the veiled woman rose to face each other in front of the new king.

After a pause and a deep breath to savor the moment, Tythoros slowly lifted the veil to reveal the radiant smile of Callioa.

"The veil has been lifted," Sidrophus decreed. "Before all of those present here to witness, Tythoros and Callioa are newly wed." With a warm smile to his friends, he added "May your union be blessed."

Applause roared through the banquet hall as the happy couple held hands and beamed at their guests.

***

The whole city came out to wish the bride and groom well. Huge crowds flooded the streets and cheered as the newlyweds were carried by in a cart. Tythoros and Callioa waved and smiled as they passed by, surrounded by the applause of new friends and total strangers.

The procession finally ended at a tract of land that Sidrophus had given as an early wedding present. Atop it sat a house that Tythoros had built himself, with generous help from the local carpenters and architects.

When the two of them were finally alone in their new house, Callioa grabbed her new husband by the shoulders and kissed him deeply. Though he was surprised to be starting so quickly, Tythoros quickly leaned in to return the kiss as his hands caressed her waist.

Very slowly, Callioa pulled away to break the kiss. "So that is what it feels like," she said.

Tythoros gave a short laugh as he understood. "That was your first kiss, was it not?"

"It was," she nodded.

Tythoros put a hand on her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes. "I know that this must all seem very strange to you," he said. "We can take things slowly if you wish."

She interrupted him with another kiss. "If this is to be the start of a happy marriage, then I want it to start as soon as possible."

Callioa ran her hands over his chest, feeling the sculpted muscles underneath the fabric. "And anyway," she added, "now that sweet Cleia has given me some instructions on the subject, I am quite eager to know these carnal pleasures that were denied me for so many years."

With a warm smile, Tythoros removed her veil and threw it aside. "Then let us go to bed," he whispered in her ear. He moved to kiss her neck, and she rolled her head aside for him. Their lips explored each other's warm and inviting flesh as they moved to the bedchamber, leaving their immaculate clothing in a trail behind them.

Callioa began by pushing Tythoros on top of their bed and straddling him. Tythoros let her take control, savoring the feel of her hands roaming all over him. He moaned with delight at the feel of her lips brushing up against his neck and shoulders. She was clearly imitating his earlier movements until he felt a sharp pain in his neck.

"Ow!" Tythoros interjected.

Callioa released him to ask "What is the matter?"

Tythoros rubbed the spot on his neck. "Did you just bite me?" he asked.

"Well, yes," she admitted. "Is that wrong somehow?"

"Just a bit hard is all," he said. "Try doing that again, but a little softer."

She tried nibbling his flesh again, listening for his signals to bite harder or softer. Callioa switched up her technique, sometimes brushing her lips against his chest, sometimes licking his taut skin, and sometimes giving his firm muscles an affectionate nip. The sensation was new to Tythoros, but it sent an unexpected jolt running through him that he found quite enjoyable.