Struck: Ch 4

Struck

Chapter 4: The Gaul

Katie Gibson

“So, I hear we have a mortal in the Great Houses’ Realm,” a voice boomed in the hall.  Heart pounding in his chest, Hermes sat up, startled from his nap. Sweat beaded on his forehead.  He was going to die.  Yep, it was the end of him and everything he knew.

Hermes looked to the front entrance.  There stood the man, bristled in all of his glory and regality.  He was draped in a fine silk shirt and linen trousers with a royal purple cloak around his shoulders.  In one hand, he grasped his bolt like a walking staff.

“Well, is no one going to welcome me in?” Zeus took off his cloak.  A servant materialised from the air, a wind nymph, and took it, quickly disappearing as fast as she had appeared.  “Hermes?  I thought you were out finding a woman?” Zeus smiled evilly.

“Looks like the Fates found someone for me, my Lord,” Hermes responded sarcastically.

“Oh?  Is that so?” Zeus mused, finding a seat on the chaise.  He eyed a silver plate of grapes but decided against it.  He instead picked up a goblet of wine that Apollo had left for Hermes.

“What do you know of a du’la, oh king of the gods?” Hermes spat out.  Zeus coughed and spluttered, wine spraying unceremoniously everywhere.  Hermes brushed away a stray droplet from his cheek.  “You know of it then,” Hermes eyed the choking god.  Well, if there was ever a time to worry, it was when the king of the gods started spitting up a very good vintage of wine over a simple question.

“A du’la, Hermes?  Where have you heard of that?” Zeus brushed at his shirt.  The wind nymph reappeared with a stain stick and towel and helped him get the wine stain out of his shirt.

“When Apollo burned his fingers on one,” Hermes answered, averting his eyes from the indignity of the disgraced lord.  He could feel the heat of the man’s gaze settle on him, even if he was avoiding it.

“Before you were more than a small child, though in a temporal time shift this might not make a great amount of sense seeing as the clan was technically after your greatness in Greece…” Zeus tried to make clear.  Hermes waved him off.  He was all too aware that they, as members of the Great Houses could move through time more like moving across a map rather than linearly through a book.  “The Fates fashioned a cruel trick, bargaining with a clan of mortals that referred to themselves as the Gauls.  The reason for it has been forcibly lost in time.  If I know anything of Chronos, he and the Fates were probably drinking and gambling away the outcomes of god and mortal alike when they came up with that little beauty,” grumbled Zeus.  He looked world-weary and older, drained.  “This person cast an Uediumi?” he asked.

“How should I know?  Orion came pounding on my door after Demeter harassed me with her rugrat and sent me by starfire to Chronos.  Chronos told me I had to protect this mortal in return for one request, to be fulfilled after I helped.  I get zam-boom banged right into a parking lot in Texas and catch this miscreant trying to mug the man.  Bastard got him good in the leg, so I did what I knew would be for his best and called Apollo in to help.  It didn’t initially occur to me that he would take the mortal to the realm of the Great Houses, but there’s been no harm done.  He’s not even aware of where he is at, and we can take him back whenever it’s good for us,” Hermes reassured Zeus.  “Apollo pointed out the pendant to me when he picked the guy up.  That’s when he mentioned that it was a du’la, and as he keeps telling me, I’m now thoroughly screwed for the next mortal century,” Hermes grumbled, collapsing into an armchair.  Hermes rolled his head on the back of the chair to turn a burning eye on Zeus.  “He won’t elaborate on why exactly I’m screwed.  It’s not nice to kill the messenger all the time, and this particular little thing seems to have slipped everyone’s mind recently in regard to me.  Is this a joke? Is it funny to you to watch me fumble away at some great mystery?” Hermes was beginning to radiate heat.  The leather of the chair cracked in the silence.

Zeus watched him, unphased.  He poured himself another glass of wine, watching him with indifference.  “Pretty much…well…” Zeus tried to look for the right words, floundering like a dying fish on the shore.

Hermes sat up to face the god.  How had he never been informed of what a du’la was?  How had he navigated the paths of the Great Houses without being informed of such a strange creation of the Fates.  His life had come after the Fates and Chronos had made the pact…but that didn’t seem right.  The Gauls had come long after the utterance of the Great Houses existence.  He would have heard something.

“There are very few that have a du’la roaming around in this world.  The Gauls were not massive, but they had a need.  They needed trade to sustain themselves.  It was primarily the gods of travel and protection that were invoked into the du’lii Uediumi,” Zeus started.

“What is a du’la?  What is this Uediumi?  Concise small sentences, please. I’m not in the mood for beating around the bush,” Hermes was in a foul mood.

“Du’la is Gaulish for leaf.  Uediumi – uediiu is I pray.  It is quite literally a prayer on a leaf.  You said Apollo burned himself on a pendant, a necklace ornament, yes?” Zeus asked.  Hermes nodded.  “That would be the ‘leaf’.  There is probably a spell written within it that implores the particular god or goddess it is connected to,” Zeus elaborated.

“Apollo said that there was a trade involved in this ‘uediumi’,” Hermes supplied.

“He should know, about a dozen turns back, a woman cast one on him and he was stuck in the Middle Ages as a magician.  He had to stay with her until she finally grew old and died, then he came back here and has buried himself in drink and travesty ever since,” exasperated, Zeus downed his glass without savouring the contents.

“You jest, surely.” Hermes remembered that Apollo had gone to the mortal world, but had returned rather quickly, a different man.  He seemed worn, and had tried to bolster his perception of youth with too many parties.

“Do you know what this man’s name is?” Zeus pondered the dredges of his glass.  Hermes shook his head.

“Do you know what he has given up for that one moment of rescue?” Zeus glanced up at Hermes, fully aware that Hermes wouldn’t know.  Again the god of travel shook his head.

Zeus took in a deep breath.  The Fates were cruel.  “He’s, let’s just say, he’s foresaken his position as a single man,” he supplied.

“Beg pardon?” Hermes blinked.

“Let me put it a different way.  This is going to screw with your sense of propriety.  In an extremely great technicality, he has in essence made you his concubinus.  For his life you serve his whims and desires and you keep him safe. A dog on a leash,” Zeus smiled maliciously.  

Hermes head snapped up, the colour draining from his face.  “That’s not possible.” His breathing became ragged and he was beginning to feel light-headed.  

“Shall I rub salt into your wound?” Zeus was beginning to chuckle.  

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Hermes was going to wretch.  

“You’re a familiar, a spiritual medium, a pet.  Bound to him until she dies.  What does any good and loyal servant do for their master?” Zeus was getting into this darkening mood. “With this contract Chronos and the Fates made, you will protect him with your life, no matter what happens. You’ll give him anything within your power to give.”

Suddenly a bang of a door snapped Hermes attention toward an approaching Apollo.  “Girl should be right as rain in drought,” Apollo walked into the room, pulling off a pair of surgical gloves.  He stopped dead in his tracks though when he realized who else was in the room with Hermes.  “Zeus,” fell out of his mouth in a hushed whisper.  The color drained from his face as his life flashed before his eyes.

“Glad to see you don’t just think of humans as guinea pigs,” Zeus chuckled.  If it was possible Apollo’s face turned several more shades paler before obtaining an amazing crimson hue. “Wait, girl? What girl?”

Hermes flicked a wrist. “He is of the third gender. Dionysus would be a better protector, or at least should be involked.”

“Ah. Apollo.” Zeus nodded his understanding.

“Gotcha. I didn’t pick that up, but if you say so. Did you explain to Hermes what he’s in for?” Apollo asked, a note of terror in his voice as he brought back the conversation.

“A concubinus, Apollo?” Hermes hissed.

“Oh for all of Olympus,” Apollo practically yelled, “Zeus, that’s just downright mean to the poor boy,” Apollo condemned the god.

“Can’t I play just a few jokes on the trickster god?” Zeus chortled.

“Play it on Loki next time you visit Asgard.  This is a matter of some levity, you obnoxious old geezer,” Apollo boiled.

“Oh that old Norse wouldn’t laugh at this magnificent humor.” Zeus all but fell out of his chair.

“I’m not laughing, and I’m sure as Hade’s bedspread not Norse,” Hermes growled.  From the vortex he extracted his caduceus.  His skin glowed a deep red-purple as electricity began to discharge around him.

“Oye, that’s for negotiations, Hermes!” Apollo tried to wave down his half-brother.

“Now, see here Hermes,” Zeus tried to placate the god.  Both Apollo and Zeus had not seen Hermes this angry since the destruction of the last of his temples during the Middle Ages and he had ruined the health of travellers in Europe for over a century.

“I am Hermes of Olympus, Messenger of the Great Houses, Keeper of the Ram and Feather, Protector of Travelers and Thieves, and Carrier of the Sacred Truths.  You who hath abused the privilege of the gatekeeper shalt know no mercy.” Hermes’s eyes had entirely blackened.  His skin shifted to an almost purple-white.  

“I haven’t seen him this mad since the defamation of his favourite herma before the sack of the Library of Alexandria.” Apollo went to back out of the room.  Hermes might be the god of good faith and luck, but he was no doormat to be walked all over and it looked like he had finally had it.

“Um…hi?” a hand caught at Apollo’s back to keep him from backing up.  “Am I interrupting something?” a shaky feminine voice asked from the door Apollo was trying to go through.

Zeus and Apollo turned in horror toward the sound.  Hermes, still glowing with murderous intent was the only one not to notice the new intrusion.

“Did you forget something, Apollo?” Zeus grumbled at the blond god.

“Like what?” Apollo whispered.

“Like the anaesthetic?”

“He should be out for the next week with the dose I gave him.”

“Well, it didn’t work.”

“Oh, really.  What gave you that idea?”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask me, a mortal anaesthetic of any higher dosage and she’d be talking with Hades about purchasing a room,” Apollo retorted, inching away from the mortal.

“Mortal?” Zeus caught Apollo’s glance.

“She shouldn’t be…”Apollo whispered.

“A demi-god?” Zeus filled in the answer to the hanging question.

“Not possible.  All of them are accounted for,” Apollo stared in awe at the enigma.

“Hi, I’m right here, or have I gone mute?” the human asked before the floor began to spin.  He reached out to stabilize himself, and Apollo made to catch him.  He sank to the ground and Apollo was left in searing pain as the man’s skin burned his hands.

“Crap, I can’t pick him up while he’s awake,” Apollo shoved his hands into a water pitcher.  He looked up in time to see Hermes hunting down the distracted Zeus.  “Zeus…Zeus!  ZEUSSS!” Apollo pointed, flinging water all over the room.  Zeus turned to assess Hermes.  “This isn’t good,” Zeus mumbled as he eased over to Apollo.

“At least he’s pretty slow when he gets mad.” Zeus ducked behind Apollo.

“At least it takes him forever and a day to get him mad.” Apollo eased back, trying to get out of the room.

“He seems a bit more on edge than usual, wouldn’t you say?” Zeus continued his backward movement.

“Something about Demeter and Cupid recently I think is making this more difficult,” goaded Apollo.

Zeus’s eyes widened as he realized his foolish mistake at poking Hermes buttons.  “Oh…crap,” mumbled Zeus.

“Um…hi, yeah, what’s with the crazy glowing man over there?  Should I follow you?” The man asked from the ground.  He had a throbbing headache and a general disconnect with his feelings that comes with high dosages of anaesthetic.

He didn’t have great feeling in his legs and he knew if he was told to run, it sure as hell wasn’t happening.

“What’s your name, girl!” Zeus demanded.

“Boy. Ambrose if you would!  Who’re you?” Ambrose slurred as the world slipped again.

“Ambrose, hi, how are you?  I need for you to do exactly as I say,” commanded Zeus as he extracted his bolt from the vortex.  Ambrose watched him, slightly horrified, but also fascinated.

“Repeat after me, exactly.” Zeus moved Apollo behind him as he shifted forward to stand in front of Ambrose, but giving enough room that Hermes could see him.

“I can try,” Ambrose eyed the cool tile floor.  It looked so comfortable.

“Ma’cing, atespos uediiu,” Zeus provided the litany.

He gave it a good effort but he thought it sounded like he was drunk.  Immediately Hermes attention snapped to her.  “What exactly did I just say to the axe murderer over there?” Ambrose asked as he laid his head on the cool marble floor.

“Kind warrior, an answer I pray,” Zeus said without looking back at the mortal on the floor.  He didn’t want to give Hermes the advantage of a dropped guard.

“And what was that supposed to achieve?” she asked.

“Got his attention, didn’t it?” responded Zeus.

“Now what?” Ambrose asked.

“Try this: Delug nertos selua novio. Ta vasso uiro tu,” supplied Zeus.

“You’re joking right?” he murmured.  That was way too much to try to say in her state.

“Delug nertos selua novio.  Ta vasso uiro tu,” Zeus reiterated slowly.

“What are you talking about?” Ambrose asked.  

“It’s a rough estimate on Gaul, I hope.  I haven’t had to use it in a freakishly long time,” Zeus shifted as Hermes continued his slow approach.

“But what am I telling him to do?” Ambrose asked as his consciousness slipped.

“I’ll tell you after you say it,” Zeus was aware that she was falling asleep.

“Fine,” Rose mumbled out the words.  Immediately the murderous aura surrounding Hermes dissipated as he found himself forcibly genuflecting, his sceptre having disappeared into the vortex.  Hermes energy drained away and his legs and arms began to tremble.

“What gives, Zeus?” Hermes fought to say.  He couldn’t stand up, he was bound to the position.

“You should be able to command him without the pidgin Gaulish,” Zeus reassured Ambrose.

“Why would I want to command him?” Ambrose asked, his eyes closed.  He just wanted to sleep.

“So that he doesn’t kill all of us,” Apollo supplied.

“Sounded to me like you guys taunted him into it,” mumbled Ambrose.

“More like Zeus taunted him. I just saved your life,” Apollo grouched flippantly.

“Zeus?  Your mom must’ve loved Greek mythology.” Rose’s head throbbed as much as her leg, which was regaining sufficient enough feeling to inform him that he was in more pain than he expected to be in.  Apollo snorted.

“Zeus, when I get out of this, you’re moving in with Hades,” Hermes threatened.

“Ambrose?” Zeus prodded.

“Hmm?” he was so close to la-la-land it was intoxicating.

“Ambrose?” Apollo poked.

“What?” he growled.

“Hermes, this is Ambrose.  Ambrose, this is Hermes.  Ambrose, be a good boy and tell Hermes to take you back to the sick ward,” Apollo soothed.

“I’m not a middle-man,” Ambrose giggled, “middle-man. I’m a middle-man. Man,” and tried to roll over.  He squealed and shot upright.  “Bloody hell,” Ambrose shouted as he tried to get a better look at his leg.  His head swam with the sudden blood rush.

“We can’t help you, Ambrose.  Say ‘Hermes’, please,” begged Zeus.

“Why the hell would I say Hermes?” He asked, and that was all it took.  The spell holding Hermes to the floor broke and he rose to a towering height.

Hermes approached the man and knelt down, having had a few minutes to regain his composure, though he still was seething at Zeus.  “Are you alright?” Hermes asked, reaching to help him up.

“What gives you the impression I’m alright?” Ambrose backed away from the prior axe murderer.

“It was a question, not a statement,” said Hermes testily.

Ambrose caught her breath.  He was much too close.  Ambrose had flashbacks to the Tarzan cartoon and sympathized with Jane about the issue with boundaries.  He was looking at the wound that Apollo had meticulously sutured.  “As always brother, you tend towards perfectionism,” Hermes mumbled as he quickly hefted Ambrose into his arms.  He gave a yelp of surprise, but Hermes didn’t notice.

“Don’t think this is over, Zeus,” Hermes hissed before the door slammed closed after his departure.

Zeus and Apollo glanced at each other and back at the door.

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