Army Postal Service

When the Greek Army swept like wild fire trough the city all I could do was run. Run with my son in my arms, trying to save us from the Greeks and most of all from the terrible Ares himself...
(A kind of steampunk take on the mythology - for those who claim ancient accuracy - sorry it's not to be found here, I've taken quite a few liberties with the timeline and geographic characteristic)

Under Attack

"Mommie, are we going to die?" Kalian looked at me with his big, brown eyes filled with fear.
"No, dearest, we're not." I lied. "We're not going to die. We're going to make this; we just have to get away from the men chasing us."
"Can we do that?" my son hiccupped.
"Yes, yes, dear, we can do that!"

Nevertheless I was beginning to have my doubts. After all I was alone, carrying a five year old in my arms. A heavy five years old, and the Dark Warriors who persecuted us were plentiful. They were huge and lethal and well armed. Even if I could get out my sword which hang bumping in its scabbard on my back, what good would it do? It would only halt the inevitable a few seconds. No, our best chance was the 'rabbit's blade' - my fast running legs.

But the ground was uneven, filled with all kinds of rubble, scrap which had come loose from buildings and walls where hurled stones from the enemies' siege machines had hit. There were also fire everywhere, spreading foul smoke which made my eyes sting and my breath choke. Although the dark warriors seemed to have the same problem, which was a little bit of a comfort.

I cursed, Darangorlad was supposed to be Neutral Ground. The city state had not involved itself in the war between the Greeks and the Anatolians. They had declared themselves free of alliance and soon become an asylum for refugees and wounded. As a healer I had come here to work in one of the many temporary hospitals, curing Greeks, Anatolians, Darangorladites and others indiscriminatory. After all this was not my war, had never been my war. I didn't care about that distant peninsula they fought over, but I couldn't bear to see people suffering, not when it was in my power to help them.

Yes, I had healing powers; I could cure using my hands, something which was a curse as well as a blessing in violent times like this. There were times I had wished I was 'normal' but most of the time I used what the faithes had gifted me with for doing good. For doing my part in lessening the atrocities of war.

The war had started a bit more than six years ago, when the Greeks wanted to take back the occupied peninsula Losanara. They had seized their opportunity after the tsunami wich had swept away most of the Anatolian defense in the area and they had invaded, trying to reclaim the area. The tsunami had been very convenient for the Greeks indeed, and naturally some people claimed that it had been a doing of their god Poseidon. The first years the war had been going forwards and back, no one really gaining an upper hand. Mighty armies marching across the steppes of Anan, chasing each other, striking out, advancing and retreating in a seemingly incomprehensible pattern. But then the Greeks had begun to win, and started to force the Anatolians backwards, over the waste grasslands in the north and towards the coast. As a consequence the war had reached Darangorlad, when the Anatolians finally had fled over the isthmus and entered the neutral islet.

The Darangorladians hadn't really had any defense; they had relied on being a neutral mandate, and had hoped that it should be respected. But no, the Anatolians had just begun plundering the city state when the Greeks too attacked. Now the formerly so peaceful resort, which used to thrive on tourism, had become a war zone. Something no one here was used to, and accordingly the chaos felt like it was worse in Darangorlad than anywhere else.

I had stayed as long as possible in the hospital, yet fear for the safety of my son had made me go home and get him and then return to my workplace. After all we were undermanned since several of the medics had already fled. Our supervisor, Mr. Olidor, had taken off already when the first boulder had hit the block.

"I'm so out of here!" he had whimpered and then taken his personal belongings and ran. Those of us left had just stared at each other; never did we know that Olidor was such a coward. He, who had sounded so brave earlier when he had described his duty as a field medic back in the Ataludian war. The stories he had told, the immodesty he had shown, had they all been just lies and bragging? None of us said anything though, we just continued working. After all there was a lot to do, patients calling out in pain and for help all around us, and the enemies coming nearer for every falling grain of sand in the hourglass.

While the marching armies closed in upon us that faithful afternoon I worked as an ant to help as many as possible. Attempting to assure that they would at least be able to rise and try to walk down in the basement shelter when the Greeks came here. Because I held no doubth that they would come - it was just a matter of time.

It was hard to really know who the real enemy was, but since the Anatolians had arrived first they were now defending us, so most people considered them 'the good guys' - at least for time being. But I couldn't help thinking about the atrocities they had performed when they came here slightly more than two weeks ago. The rapes and the looting. However now I knew that we had to fear the incoming Greeks because their arrival meant more slaughter, more killing.

First Kalian had thought it was exciting with the fighting going on around us, but then, when the going got a bit too tough I had seen fear in his eyes, and he had finally obeyed me and left the window and hid beneath a table covered with surgery items. The little of that kind we had left - that was another terrible fact, we were running out of supplies. Especially the anesthetics were sparse, and I feared that we might have to perform surgery without painkillers soon.

Then one rock hit the western section of the hospital and it made most of the roof collapse, the building to shake like being hit by a quake.
"It's not safe here!" Xena said. My older colleague urged me to take my son and run.
"What about you?"
"I have no one who worry about me anymore. Zorem is dead and the kids have marched off to war, they don't care about old mama anymore. There's only myself. Myself and my pride and duty. But you have a son to care for, Narinda. Take him and leave! Get out of here while there's still time!"

I was torn between my duty and my motherly instinct, listened to the patients crying out in pain and suffering. But the next stone became quite a grain to tip the proverbial scale, I grabbed Kalian and ran.
"Good luck, Xena!" I called back at the medic.
"Good luck to you too, Narinda, and may the gods watch your steps!" was the last words I heard. Not that I thought any god would care but they were comforting words nevertheless.

With Kalian by my hand I ran down the staircase and out in the street. Here fires were raging everywhere. Fire in the houses, fire in the magazines and in overturned wagons. Burning trees and grass, the sound of roaring and sparkling flames only interrupted by the whistles and bangs of stone missiles. That and screaming people and animals. Terrified horses were coming in our opposite direction; bolting like crazed with ears laid back and bulging eyes radiating with fear. It seemed like they might trample us as they approached and in the last moment I had pulled Kalian with me into safety inside a narrow alley.

"Are we going home?" my son asked.
"No, it's the wrong direction, the fires are more intense there. We can't go there now."
"Then where are we going, mama?"
"We'll figure something, sweetie!"

Fact was I didn't know. I had no clue at all to where to go, the fires seemed to be everywhere around us, and the stones kept coming. But I could not tell that to Kalian. I had to be brave for his sake. However I was a healer, a medic, I was sworn to the god Asklepios, I knew nothing of war.

On the other side of the alley, where it opened up into another main road, lied a dead Anatolian soldier, face down in the mud, crimson blood mixing with water. I relieved him of his sword and strapped it on my back. I also found two daggers tied around his legs and I took them too and tried to strap them to my own ankles the same way. The man had had quite a bit larger ankles than mine so the hard leather straps were naturally too large. On the other hand the knives were sharp, so I could use one of them to make another hole for the buckle in the leather, and thus make them to fit me a bit better.

"The stones have stopped falling" Kalian informed while I was piercing the second hole. I paid attention, he was right. Were the Greeks out of ammo? No, we weren't that lucky, they had stopped because now their infantry was arriving. First cavalry, fierce men on big war horses and then foot soldiers. A lot of foot soldiers. They came marching up the street in disciplined lines, drummers ahead of them.

Ta-dam, ta-dam, ta-dam, the drumbeats rang out like strong heartbeats and the soldiers marched with powerful determination to the resounding beat, their armors glittering in the fire light and their horse hair crescents swaying. They were terrible to behold and I could see people on the opposite side of the street backing into the houses again, and no doubt bolting their doors.
"Quick! This way!" I grabbed Kalian's hand and we ran back the same way we had come.

Halfway through a burly man was blocking the way. Greek or Anatolian I didn't know, what mattered was that he was not letting us trough. But I still held one of the daggers in my hand and without thinking I was hurling it at him. And call it lucky shot, it hit him right in the troth, and he was down in a second.
"Bravo Mama!" my son called out, and I smiled a bit, I had proved myself to him, at least this time.

Quickly I removed the knife and dried it off on the fallen hulk's mantle. Then I tucked it in the scabbard around my ankle and grabbed Kalian again, and we climbed across the body blocking the path. Next second we started out from the alley. The maddened horses were gone and there were no Greeks here at least, so we cut across the main street and inside the opposite alley.

The Greeks were coming from the east, so a rough plan started to form in my mind. Avoid the main streets and stick to the alleys and work myself westwards! First it went fine, we met no more warriors, neither Greeks nor Anatolian and Kalian and I soon shifted from running to walking, catching our breaths. We even stopped at a water fountain and drank 'till there was no more thirst. After that we found an abandoned stand filled with apples, and we took one each. Never in my life had an apple tasted so good, never in my life had a small rest felt so well deserved.

But say the luck that lasts! Just when I had figured we could make it to the Square of Stage Coaches and perhaps get us a ride out of town we noted that the heading of the alley we had chosen were blocked by Greeks. And not just any Greeks. I recognized their black armor and the blood red crescents of their helmets. Everybody knew these men. It was the Dark Warriors, the fighters of Ares himself.

"Oh, no!" I said under my breath. Then I retreated, pulling Kalian with me.
"Mother, I'm tired!" my son complained.
"Please be braved, dearest. We'll soon get to rest. Just a little bit more!"

We crossed the empty square again. Then we entered the opposite alley, barely avoiding a falling wooden structure from yet another house on fire. It crashed heavily behind us, sending orange sparkles in all directions, and I had to slap at my cloak to preventing it from catching fire when it too became hit. We turned a corner and then another one. Then Kalian fell.
"Mother, I can't run anymore."
"Please…"
"I'm too tired, my legs hurt."

At the same time I heard fast marching feet behind us. I had no doubt who they were, and I felt a lump in my troth when I lifted Kalian in my arms. We were never going to make it. We were never going to get to the Square of Stage Coaches. Nevertheless I was not giving up. Because then we were lost totally. At least by keep moving we would still have a chance. No matter how slim it was ours to take! First I thought of hiding but there was nowhere to hide. I didn't dare entering a house and becoming trapped inside. Instead I exited yet another alley, which one in order I didn't know, I had lost count a long time ago.

Here was a dark park with a muddy ground and spooky shadows moving all over. But no fires, and I'd rather take dark shadows than Dark Warriors any day. So I started running across the grass, gasping for breath.

But the shadows among the trees weren't mere shrubs of the kind that scares you on dark and windy nights. This was what you thought you saw all the time those nights, the scare come real. There were more Dark Warriors here and they were closing in upon us. Fast.

"It's them! Call for the God!" I thought I heard someone yelling, but I was certain that I was imagining things. Who would want us? A petty healer with a kid? Nevertheless it was getting harder to run, my breath was burning like fire in my chest and my legs were starting to feel heavy. Kalian seemed to weight a ton in my arms and that sword appeared to be more in the way than anything else.

"Mommie, are we going to die?" Kalian looked at me with his big, brown eyes filled with fear.
"No, dearest, we're not." I lied. "We're not going to die. We're going to make this, we just have to get away from the men chasing us."
"Can we do that?" my son hiccupped.
"Yes, yes, dear, we can do that!"

But the voices were getting loader, while we ran down a slope.

The next second the Dark Warriors were all around us.
"Stop!" someone was calling out. "Hold it, Lady!"
"Fuck off!" I cried out with tears in my voice, feeling my throat contracting.

My outcry had hardly left my mouth when I felt a strong hand clutching my arm in an iron grip, forcing me to halt. One of the dark warriors had caught me, a man whose features I couldn't make out because his whole face was covered with a shining dark helmet. Beneath it I could hear his laboured breath; the man had been running hard to catch up with me. I decided to seize that advantage and although my arms were immobilized, one by him and the other by holding Kalian, I still had my strong legs. I kicked up and hit right at the nerve in the knee, but the man hardly stumbled, it seemed like he was numb to these kinds of stunts. Instead he turned me around so I was facing in the opposite direction, and Kalian, who was crying now clung to my neck, threatening my balance.

The dark warrior was trying to force my arm to my back, and to have me walk forward in the direction he desired. Holding on to Kalian I fought a losing battle when it suddenly hit me. Was I stupid or what? Why did I fight like a teenage temple dancer when I had other means? It was really not right to use my powers like this - backwards healing, but I concentrated upon the hand that was grasping my arm and sent a hard hitting bolt trough his endorphine system, forcing him do go numb.

It was only going to last a few moments, but that would be enough for me to get Kalian and myself away from the enemy. The huge form fell over me and made me slip in the wet mud and I fell, almost dropping Kalian, who was screaming loudly now. Then I felt Eyes burning in my back and I turned…

…And I saw him.

An immense black form against the raging fires. Flames reflecting in polished armor. Blood red horse hair crescent on the helmet that covered his face completely, a sword in the right hand and an axe in the left, both of them dripping with blood. And most of all there was the aura. The aura of an immortal, and as red as an aura could ever become. Red with war. I held no doubt about whom that one was.

Ares.

Ares, the Greek god of war. The feared one! The terrible one! The awful one!

Even though I felt it was futile I grabbed Kalian and pulled him harder into my arms, tried to protect him with my body. Some people squeeze their eyes tight, waiting for death. Not me, I couldn't stop staring at the fearsome towering God in front of me. I was terrified, hypnotized by this lethal predator.

Then Ares did something so unexpected that I almost fainted just from surprise. He put aside his weapon and kneeled in front of us on the wet lawn, the sounds of leather creaking. Even Kalian stopped crying.

Next the god removed his helmet, and shook his head, dark curls falling away from his grim yet handsome face.
"Narinda? Didi?" he said.

I stared. I stared at that very face I had never thought I'd ever see again.
"You!"