Chapter 4: The Arrogancy of the Proud (With Epilogue)
Ever-pious Josh elbowed his way through the throngs of the bustling port. The crowds in Ismarus were unbelievable - everyone yelling and pushing, in the devil's rush to get seemingly nowhere. The high-pitched calls of a butcher, a fishmonger, a jeweler, echoed above the heads of the multitude, each hawking his wares. Josh listened but could not hear the sales pitch of the stonemason whom he sought in this city. He stoically continued making his way through the crowd towards the center of town; the Palladium would have its marble altar to Athena.
Seeing a middle-aged housewife hanging out clothes at the roadside, Josh stopped and cleared his throat. "Pardon, ma'am," said the deckhand in his sonorous voice, "but would you be able to direct me to Peter Lithypsuchros' storefront?"
The homely woman looked at him in disbelief. "Omphala the Omnific - the woman who pronounces with justice that her prowess at the martial arts rivals that of Pallas Athena herself - is displaying her divine talents in the town square in ten minutes, and you're looking for a stonemason?"
The woman's last few words fell on deaf ears; ever-pious Josh was fighting back a surge of anger at hearing a mortal woman compared to his patron goddess. He imagined the look kind Brother Cayvie, traveler of islands, would wear if he heard of such an atrocity. Josh decided impetuously that the altar could wait; Athena had greater work for him today. Turning his back on the housewife, he stormed off toward the town square.
Josh arrived just in time to hear a deep female voice resounding over the swarm of locals crowding the town square. "Ladies and gentlemen!" bellowed the commanding voice. "I'd like to introduce myself to the fair city of Ismarus! I am but a humble monk who, through long years of training, has gained total mastery over her body and soul. I have defeated armies and amazed kings with my skill in battle - with my fists that can crush the mighty rock of Olympus itself - with my daring and dexterity before which even the Goddess of War must cower. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the world's greatest martial artist - Omphala the Omnific!"
With a raucous cheer, the crowd parted in a circle around the speaker. A tall woman, Omphala wore her black hair in a swept-back ponytail, complementing her dark skin and flashing gray eyes. Her fists were raised. "Come, then!" she roared. "What man thinks his strength can best mine?"
Man after man of Ismarus entered the circle with clenched jaw, bent on proving his prowess against this Amazon. But Omphala took them all on - one, two, three at a time - downing each in seconds with blows and throws of fiendish ferocity, and with every strike the crowd oohed and aahed in astonished approval.
With an arrogant smirk on her face, Omphala fended off an assailant with one leg, and turned to scan the crowd. For a moment, Josh could swear she was looking straight at him.
The ever-pious one sized up his predicament. Clearly this Omphala was a brilliant martial artist; she would probably defeat even a seasoned warrior like Josh in hand-to-hand combat. The mariner dismissed the thought of relying on Athena to protect him as hubris tantamount to Omphala's own, and cast about for a more cunning way to throw her to the floor. He scanned the area around him, but it seemed devoid of anything he might throw at his adversary. Just a bunch of gawking onlookers, from local drunks to middle-aged women taking a break from hanging up their laundry...
Laundry. Of course. As Omphala continued her blasphemous exhibition, Josh rushed to a nearby clothesline -- a sturdy rope some locals had strung between two poles adjacent to the town square. A swift yank and he'd torn the rope loose from its moorings. With the speed of an Athenian soldier who could tie any knot you named in his sleep, Josh fashioned the clothesline into a crude lasso in seconds. Holding his weapon behind him, he returned to the anonymity of the throng, and waited for an opening.
It came. Omphala the Omnific turned her back to execute a painful head-butt against her latest challenger, a burly lumberjack type. Josh didn't think twice. He raised his lasso, and hurled it expertly at Omphala. And to the astonished gasp of the crowd, the lasso fell true.
In vain did Omphala struggle to free herself from the lariat's embrace. Her attempts to slacken the rope by charging toward the radiant Josh met with failure, as the confused masses milled around in front of her. She stumbled into them off-balance, and with a final tug from Josh, fell forcefully onto the stony ground.
Looking back on it later, Josh had trouble remembering exactly what happened next. He knew he'd said something about Omphala's arrogance, about the dim view Athena took toward being compared unfavorably with a mortal. The crowd must have dispersed, uninterested in religious talk. All Josh remembered was how he'd walked toward the prostrate valkyrie, thinking he'd make sure she wasn't badly injured... and how she'd looked up at him. Looked up at him with piercing gray eyes. And smiled.
He'd fallen on his knees then, realizing too late that only one in all of Greece had eyes like that.
"My lady. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive, Josh. You acquitted yourself admirably here today. I couldn't have asked for better."
Tears ran down Josh's face. "Thank you, my lady! I did what I did for your sake alone."
"Of course. I am well pleased. Your nightly prayers are truly more than so many empty words. Know that I smile upon you, and upon your noble craft; and know, too, that you shall see Ithaca again."
***
Somehow Josh managed to stand up after that, to tear himself away from the lariat that was suddenly empty, to drag his dazed body inch by inch to fetch the altar for his captain. When at last the altar was secured aboard the Palladium, Josh made it a point to be the first to genuflect before the marble slab.
He prayed as he'd never prayed before.
Seeing a middle-aged housewife hanging out clothes at the roadside, Josh stopped and cleared his throat. "Pardon, ma'am," said the deckhand in his sonorous voice, "but would you be able to direct me to Peter Lithypsuchros' storefront?"
The homely woman looked at him in disbelief. "Omphala the Omnific - the woman who pronounces with justice that her prowess at the martial arts rivals that of Pallas Athena herself - is displaying her divine talents in the town square in ten minutes, and you're looking for a stonemason?"
The woman's last few words fell on deaf ears; ever-pious Josh was fighting back a surge of anger at hearing a mortal woman compared to his patron goddess. He imagined the look kind Brother Cayvie, traveler of islands, would wear if he heard of such an atrocity. Josh decided impetuously that the altar could wait; Athena had greater work for him today. Turning his back on the housewife, he stormed off toward the town square.
Josh arrived just in time to hear a deep female voice resounding over the swarm of locals crowding the town square. "Ladies and gentlemen!" bellowed the commanding voice. "I'd like to introduce myself to the fair city of Ismarus! I am but a humble monk who, through long years of training, has gained total mastery over her body and soul. I have defeated armies and amazed kings with my skill in battle - with my fists that can crush the mighty rock of Olympus itself - with my daring and dexterity before which even the Goddess of War must cower. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the world's greatest martial artist - Omphala the Omnific!"
With a raucous cheer, the crowd parted in a circle around the speaker. A tall woman, Omphala wore her black hair in a swept-back ponytail, complementing her dark skin and flashing gray eyes. Her fists were raised. "Come, then!" she roared. "What man thinks his strength can best mine?"
Man after man of Ismarus entered the circle with clenched jaw, bent on proving his prowess against this Amazon. But Omphala took them all on - one, two, three at a time - downing each in seconds with blows and throws of fiendish ferocity, and with every strike the crowd oohed and aahed in astonished approval.
With an arrogant smirk on her face, Omphala fended off an assailant with one leg, and turned to scan the crowd. For a moment, Josh could swear she was looking straight at him.
Ever-pious Josh, how do you defend the good name of slighted Pallas Athena?In a flash all the stories of Athena raced through Josh's mind. Never would Athena be found fighting on behalf of cowards too pusillanimous to defend what they believed. Josh knew his goddess would want him to act -- and to act quickly.
1. Do nothing. Hubris is for the gods to punish.
2. Look around for a way to strike Omphala down from beyond her reach.
3. Enter the arena with fists raised, knowing that your goddess will give you the skill you need to beat this pretender at her own game.
The ever-pious one sized up his predicament. Clearly this Omphala was a brilliant martial artist; she would probably defeat even a seasoned warrior like Josh in hand-to-hand combat. The mariner dismissed the thought of relying on Athena to protect him as hubris tantamount to Omphala's own, and cast about for a more cunning way to throw her to the floor. He scanned the area around him, but it seemed devoid of anything he might throw at his adversary. Just a bunch of gawking onlookers, from local drunks to middle-aged women taking a break from hanging up their laundry...
Laundry. Of course. As Omphala continued her blasphemous exhibition, Josh rushed to a nearby clothesline -- a sturdy rope some locals had strung between two poles adjacent to the town square. A swift yank and he'd torn the rope loose from its moorings. With the speed of an Athenian soldier who could tie any knot you named in his sleep, Josh fashioned the clothesline into a crude lasso in seconds. Holding his weapon behind him, he returned to the anonymity of the throng, and waited for an opening.
It came. Omphala the Omnific turned her back to execute a painful head-butt against her latest challenger, a burly lumberjack type. Josh didn't think twice. He raised his lasso, and hurled it expertly at Omphala. And to the astonished gasp of the crowd, the lasso fell true.
In vain did Omphala struggle to free herself from the lariat's embrace. Her attempts to slacken the rope by charging toward the radiant Josh met with failure, as the confused masses milled around in front of her. She stumbled into them off-balance, and with a final tug from Josh, fell forcefully onto the stony ground.
Looking back on it later, Josh had trouble remembering exactly what happened next. He knew he'd said something about Omphala's arrogance, about the dim view Athena took toward being compared unfavorably with a mortal. The crowd must have dispersed, uninterested in religious talk. All Josh remembered was how he'd walked toward the prostrate valkyrie, thinking he'd make sure she wasn't badly injured... and how she'd looked up at him. Looked up at him with piercing gray eyes. And smiled.
He'd fallen on his knees then, realizing too late that only one in all of Greece had eyes like that.
"My lady. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive, Josh. You acquitted yourself admirably here today. I couldn't have asked for better."
Tears ran down Josh's face. "Thank you, my lady! I did what I did for your sake alone."
"Of course. I am well pleased. Your nightly prayers are truly more than so many empty words. Know that I smile upon you, and upon your noble craft; and know, too, that you shall see Ithaca again."
***
Somehow Josh managed to stand up after that, to tear himself away from the lariat that was suddenly empty, to drag his dazed body inch by inch to fetch the altar for his captain. When at last the altar was secured aboard the Palladium, Josh made it a point to be the first to genuflect before the marble slab.
He prayed as he'd never prayed before.
Josh's wise choice causes every Mariner on the Palladium to gain 10 Morale, in joy over Athena's personal interest in their odyssey. No matter which option he chose, he would have realized Omphala's true identity. Had he chosen the first option, he would have lost 15 Morale, ashamed that his goddess should see him hearing her name debased and doing nothing. Had he chosen the third, things would have been yet worse; Athena would have been furious at his arrogance in taking her favor for granted, and would have shattered the marble altar the moment it was installed.
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