.

The Aegis of Zeus

...where the heroine just lies around in bed.

"I told you," Kino heard Hermes say, "Kino's convalescing and is not to be disturbed."

Kino was experiencing first-hand the often-observed sharpening of other senses while her eyes recovered. She could hear everything, and secretly felt pleased to hear Hermes asserting himself like that. He was normally polite to the point of meekness. He really does care for me!

"Do either of you have any idea how many journalists and well wishers—" he continued. But then Kino heard something like a starchy curtain unfolding, parchment perhaps. "Ooooh..." Hermes drawled, and Kino felt a knot of dread curl in her belly.

"Hermes?" she said.

"Uhh... Kino?" Her friend's almost child-like voice whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yup!" She answered. Might as well face whatever problem's come up now. "It's fine. My dreams are all screwed up, so I'd rather stay awake."

"Keep it short," Hermes fretted.

She heard the side of her tent rolling upward, and damp air caressed her cheek. Must be morning. Birds, no crickets. She rummaged about with her good hand, and managed to pull a roll of cloth under her neck and shoulders so she could at least pay attention. Heaven knows what I look like. Not the most dignified situation. This is gonna suck. Nobody ever told a good story where the heroine just lies around in bed.

"Whoever you are, if this isn't important I will find you and throw you out a window."

"Oh, you'll want to see this, Kino, in a manner of speaking," said a cultured voice that somehow always sounded like it was about to deliver a punchline.

"Aha! Hello, Mr. Flores," the traveler said warmly. And why not? What happened wasn't his fault.

"I hope your recovery's progressing well, 'mister' Kino?"

"Aaand Captain Forester," Kino smiled. She'd lost consciousness in the man's arms, and awakened inside a warm bedroll, up to her eyeballs in painkillers. I can hardly help but feel grateful.

"Thanks for asking. Hermes says the bandages over my eyes can come off in another few days. The arm'll take at least a month." She raised the lump of plaster attached to her right shoulder. Her upper arm was fine, but both the radial and ulnar bones had snapped like twigs. Need those to work Hermes' throttle; I'm stuck for a while.

"Kino," the captain continued, "you're aware you've become something of a public figure by saving the Choi children?"

"I didn't know the Chois were so well-known."

"They weren't," Mr. Flores explained. "But yours is the one hopeful story to come from that atrocity. Your reappearance amid the refugees after everyone thought you'd given up your life for those children, well, it's a single candle in midnight darkness — everyone sees it."

Notoriety... not what I needed. "Okay. So...?"

"The enemy has placed a price on your head. I have a copy of the notice here, with your photograph."

"That's a mug shot. They arrested you at some point?" Flores asked.

"Oh, terrific! How much?" Kino sighed. "I dunno the currency 'round here, but I'll be insulted if it isn't a lot."

"An estimable amount," Forester affirmed, "for the killing of nine of their soldiers."

Nine? Kino performed a quick mental recount. I shot three at the border. Gia ran down five rescuing me. Where's the ninth?

"I already have people quietly watching over you, Kino." Flores again. "The second Hermes raises an alarm, they'll act. It's the least you're owed."

"Thank you. I mean that! I know you're both very busy, so I really appreciate your taking the time."

"Not at all!" Flores said, though Kino knew better. He was masterminding the partisans and infiltrators, even if he acted like he was planning a nice brunch.

Forester, by contrast, spoke with grave seriousness. "The safest place for you would be aboard my ship."

That set off an alarm bell in Kino's head. "No, I'll stay on land, Captain. Thanks."

"Mister Kino, I remind you, you still have a contract with me."

Uh oh... so that's what this is about: another press gang! She realized this was her cue to say something, and remained silent instead. Let him have his say; he's going to anyway.

"I already have a new cook. Mr. Flores has spoken highly of your skills. I'd like you to train with my ship's marines."

"Your courage and resourcefulness are beyond question," Flores added. "I'd hang onto an operative like you with both hands, but you're simply too high-profile now."

"You really think I'd be 'safest' aboard a ship full of randy marines?"

"Point. Perhaps some other responsibility?" Flores ventured.

"You're both assuming I want in on this fight. I killed three of their thugs, and got two kids away from 'em. I've done my share."

Forester sighed. "You know I could have you charged with fraud, since you led me to believe you were a man."

"I believe your time just expired," Hermes cut in.

"Never said I was," Kino retorted.

"Don't prevaricate, it doesn't become you."

"Last I checked, I'm still female."

"But not the spoiled, useless creature you pretended to be. You're brave and resourceful. Kino... I need that." The captain was engaging her as a human being again, appealing to her. Watch yourself, Kino. If he keeps that up, it might work!

"I needed cash when I signed up, because Koth-Shem's press gang stole everything I had. I refused to be coerced by them too."

"'Coerced?'" Forester's tone darkened. "Kino, I'm going to overlook that because of what you've endured. You are the hero of the Kelbright Massacre. You have obligations now."

"Gentlemen..." In her long years astride Hermes, Kino had never heard him growl. "I have not raised my voice in a lifetime. But when I do, I am obeyed."

"No Hermes, it's alright!" Kino paused a moment to let the tension subside. "You people are fighting for your homes. I respect that. But I have no obligations, captain — no nation, no home, no family. Mine tried to gut me."

"Aren't you being a tad melodramatic?"

"It was one of those big cake knives," Kino parried. In the darkness of her mental theater, the knife flashed anew. How beautiful, she had thought.

"What of revenge, for what the Renewah did to you?" Flores said. "They've put a price on your head!"

The gleaming knife transmuted to sizzling-hot headlights. "Leave revenge to the gods," she answered. "I don't have a horse in this race. I'm just gonna get as far away from Kelbright as possible."

"This is a fight for the human race. Do you have a stake in that?"

"Nope."

"We're under martial law. I could have you thrown into prison for desertion. In theory, I could keel-haul you."

"Disgrace an' punish the heroine of the cause? Great for morale!"

The captain gathered himself for one last effort. "Despite your arguments, deep down, you're a decent person. You've proven that, even if you don't believe it. And as a decent person, you are obligated. We're fighting a threat to civilization itself."

"I hhhate civilization!" Kino hissed through clenched teeth. "If I lost a finger for every person I've gunned down, I could still pull a trigger. It takes civilized people to murder in the thousands!" She halted. Even blind, she could hear the shocked silence.

Displeased she'd revealed her feelings so openly, Kino flattened her voice again. "I've been doing some hard thinking since I crawled outta that bloodbath, and I've decided I don't want a home, or a family, or anything to do with civilization at all."

"Then why did you give your motorcycle to those children?"

"My arm was broken. I couldn't ride."

"Captain, enough," she heard Flores say.

"I see." She heard Forester tear paper. From his tone, he was giving her such a glare, she was lucky to be blind. "The heroine is nothing of the sort. Miss Kino, I release you from your contract. I have no place on my ship for an atavistic misanthrope."

"Flatterer," Kino listened to the tall man's receding boots. "Say hi to Mr. Belk for me."

"He's dead," the captain called back.

After a long, depressing silence, Kino said, "you're still there, mister Flores. I hear you breathing."

"I am. Please excuse the captain, he's seen hard fighting. Kino, you didn't abandon those children to the Tatana. Give yourself that much credit."

"She needs her rest now," Hermes grumbled, "and you two have upset her. Would you roll the tent back down?"

"Wait!" Kino shouted. "What did you say?"

"Eh?"

"The Renewah... what did you call them?"

"Oh! 'Renewah' simply translates as the 'enemy.' They call themselves the Tatana."

Why... Kino squinted beneath the bandages over her eyes. Why do I know that name? Who were the Tatana?

"Mister Flores?" she called weakly.

"Let him go, Kino. You've got to calm down. If I'd had any sense I would've turned them away."

"Who were the Tatana?" Kino slapped the canvas of her tent. "Hermes?"

"Huh... name does sound familiar. But we've been to so many places."

In her private cinema, Kino pored over a montage of her long travels. New people every three days, with a few exceptions... but the Tatana were important. Who...?

That village the first Kino came from, the coliseum, Sakura, "the wise one," Nimya, those three slavers from Chai Dan... oh, this is hopeless! Try to go in order, you dang fool. Guri, Koth Shem, then aboard the Moirae, then Gia and her parents— hold it! The Haibane? Right after, I met that fat merchant.

"I'm searching for a people called the Tatana," the man said again in her memories. "Can you help me find this place?"

That's right, he was an arms dealer. And she'd not told him where to find the Tatana because they were the tribe that were being slaughtered by—!

"Veldelval!" Kino howled the name like a malediction.

Once upon a time, Kino had entered a town filled with the relics of war, but proud of their hard-won peace with their neighbor, Relsumia. Kino soon learned first-hand how these two bitter enemies maintained their peace. They competed in the ritualized massacre of primitives on their borders, the Tatana.

Kino had left Veldelval in disgust, only to be ambushed by the Tatana, who needed someone, anyone, to feed to their useless, helpless rage. The same mindless rage that's driving them now!

I'd wager everything I own Veldelval and Relsumia don't exist anymore. Equipped with the merchant's weapons, the Tatana overcame their defenses and slaughtered 'em, Not that they shouldn't have seen that little slice of karma coming.

But now the Tatanans are running amok. Nobody around here was prepared to stop a juggernaut made of plundered tech and pure hate.

Kino had gunned down a Tatanan man in self-defense. That would be the ninth, Kino moaned inwardly. I forgot them, but they remember. They know who I am.

Soon after, Kino had encountered that fat merchant seeking the Tatana. And if it hadn't been for meeting the Haibane first, I would have gleefully shown him the way. Then I'd share responsibility for the Kelbright massacre, and everything else the Tatana have done. Thank you again, Kana!

Her time in Guri was as near as Kino had ever come to a religious experience — three days that had irrevocably changed her, and her destiny. And the gushes of gratitude that welled up inside her at moments like this were as near as she ever came to prayer.

Yet... had she not renounced all civilization mere minutes ago? "I don't want hate making my decisions," she reminded herself.

"Are you talking to me?" Hermes asked.

"I said, 'I don't want hate making my decisions!' I said that after we left Guri, remember? Hermes, do... do you think badly of me for refusing to fight the Tatana?"

Hermes laughed.

"I'm being serious."

"I wasn't laughing at you. Kino, I'm the last person to ever tell someone they should go fight in a war."

"Really? Wait, you're usually the idealistic one nagging me. How did this happen?"

"Tell me, the names Bedford, Warwick, or Talbot mean anything to you?"

Kino shook her head, then remembered she was in a tent. "Nope."

"Yeah funny, that. A king once promised 'em their names would be household words. How about Sthenelos, Sarpedon, or Polydoros?"

"Nuh uh. There a point to this?"

"My point is real progress doesn't happen because of people killing and dying for some cause or other. Real progress happens — I've seen it — from good ideas getting tested against reality, while the older generation dies out and takes their stupid, outmoded ideas to the grave with them.

"And you call me a ruthless pragmatist."

"I'll admit I worry that you're going too far. You're rejecting humanity, including your own. People are flawed and imperfect, and Kino, so are you. The answer to that is compassion, not rejection. But fighting in a war..." he chuffed. "You wanna hear a story?"

"Oh Hermes, I'm just too darn busy watching the phosphor dots behind my eyelids right now."

It takes civilized people to murder in the thousands.

"Alright! You've all been nagging me, creeching into my ear about this thrice-damned city," the king thundered to his assembled subjects.

Hermes thought to himself, no, I haven't. I even gave Iris my job because I want no part of this. It's your wife that henpecks you, you pussywhipped old fraud. But of course, one learns to hold one's tongue around kings.

"Now's your chance!" The old king rumbled. "Down, all of you! Clear the hall! Go pick your sides, and fight. Go on!"

And so the hall cleared out. Hermes was among the first out the door. He was the speediest, of course, but he was more interested in getting away from the crowd than in hurrying to the city. More and more, Hermes felt he had nothing in common with his peers, and cherished peaceful solitude far more than company.

He watched as the crowd descended, dividing as it went. Ares rushed down to claim the leadership of the city's defenders, more to serve his own ego than anything else. He thought himself a terrific leader, even if Hera and Athena, currently in charge of the contingent attacking the city, had disabused everyone of that idea, except Ares himself.

Nothing for it but to go.

The stink assaulted him immediately upon his arrival, a nasty mixture of smoke, sweat, and excrement. When humans died, they burst open, or relaxed their bowels. It made him envy their poor sense of smell. At least the warm, dry summer meant they were usually buried before they started to rot.

He stood on the periphery of the gathered armies. To the west lay the ships, black-tarred wooden hulks powered by oars and sails. The city's defenders had, as their last desperate hope, struggled to reach and destroy these boats. Without hope of sailing home, let alone carry away plunder, the invaders would have had no choice but to march away, northward and then westward. They'd have been lucky to get home at all.

But it wasn't to be. The battle was now being fought at the city's gates. No one launches an attack if they don't expect to win, Hermes reflected. War isn't a game, and nobody feels obligated to play fair. The attackers' propagandists had cooked up some cockeyed pretext about a woman eloping to the city. Hera and Athena carped about some disrespect they'd been shown. He hadn't bothered listening to the details. What is this stupid little burg called, anyway? Ilius? Something like that.

It was all so discouraging! Humanity had shown such promise, but teach these clever, lovable little monkeys how to light a fire, and they use it to roast each other on pyres. Who knows what they'd do if they learned to command the lightning, or the secrets of the suns.

In his casual stroll he watched the gods play their various tricks. Artemis and Hera were locked in a cat-fight. Yeah, that's been a long time coming. Poseidon was at a disadvantage inland, for all his power, Hermes noted, and held off under some pretense. Aphrodite should know better than to even come back. Last time she got a boo-boo on her wrist, and ran home crying. Hermes felt something squish under his sandal, and found an eye staring up at him. He kicked it over toward a flock of crows. There, the real beneficiaries of war. Let's give them fire next time.

"Argeiphontes!" a voice screeched at him. Hermes turned about to find some harridan in armor and scary-looking feathers shouting at him. "Argus-slayer, face me!"

Hermes cocked his head. "Uhm... hang on a moment. I know the voice. Did we meet at the—"

"Leeetooo!" the old woman bellowed. "I am Leto, and you shall never forget my name again!"

Leto...? Gah! Some vain old has-been trying to win back old glory. Just what I needed. I'll bet in a few centuries no one will even remember she existed.

"Shall I feign sleep, or do you know how to fight someone who's awake?" She taunted.

Hermes considered fighting... but no, his heart just wasn't in it. "Y'know what, ol' lady? I have enough blood on my hands. You go tell people what you want. Tell 'em you humiliated me, kicked me around the room. I won't even contradict you."

Leto stood as if thunderstruck. "What are you...?"

"I'm saying I no longer care! I forfeit. I'm outta here." And Hermes left.

Hermes headed back home, to savor some peace and quiet before the place started filling up with gods bewailing their stubbed toes. He lurked outside the grand hall, until he heard laughter.

Inside, the king watched the battle, roaring so loud the honey-mead was sloshing out of his chalice.

This is all his depraved idea of comedy?

Hermes dodged aside as Artemis dashed past, bawling like a child. Looks like Hera soundly spanked her. Yeah, go crying to daddy. Never mind that you'd have spent the day playing with your pets if not for laughing-boy there.

Hermes fled before he was noticed, and found some obscure little corner of the world to mind his own business in.

"There, see?" Hermes concluded proudly. "You are talking to humanity's first-recorded conscientious objector."

"What an honor," Kino laughed, mocking him and applauding him all at once. "If that's so, how'd the story get out?"

"Oh! To her credit, Leto didn't boast about her 'great victory.' She told the story straight. By then, the king no longer cared."

"Huh! Y'know, this is the first time you've really shared your past with me? So you were a mopey, alienated adolescent like me, once upon a time?"

"I... guess that's one way of looking at it." Hermes admitted.

"So what happened to Zeus?"

"Oh, same thing that eventually happens to every king who rules by threats and force instead of actually being good at his job, and earning the loyalty of his subjects. Which is most kings, sad to say. But I haven't even gotten to the good part of the story. You up for it?"

"Please! I cannot tell you how screwed up my dreams are these days."

"More high school dreams?"

"I wish! Not exactly nightmares either. Just weird, and incredibly vivid."

"Kino," Hermes tried his best to sound reassuringly unconcerned. "This is the first time in your life you've ever had to lie still, blindfolded. Is this your third brush with PTSD, or fourth? I've lost count. Be gentle with yourself, and understand that things may not make sense for a little bit."

"I'm still drugged," the voice from the tent answered. "I know that. Hooo boy, do I know, and I don't like it. But I'm completely sure something weird is happening. I was gonna die. I was choking on smoke, and I couldn't see. No way outta that! But then there was this flying saucer that saved my life. Then a schoolgirl who could change the world, and the old Speaker was there too. You remember him? And then I wasn't even human! And ever since, when I go to sleep, I'm in different places. And I don't think they're dreams — I'm not this creative!"

Within the canvas, Kino's good hand reached up to rub her face, and scratch under the bandages around her eyes. "They feel more like memories. You remember ever meeting a blue-faced shaman named 'Zelgadis?'"

"Doesn't ring a bell." Hermes sounded as confused as she was, if a bit more coherent.

"Okay Hermes, you were there with me. Do you remember a rained-out festival, and a wizard who could turn a duck into a beautiful dancing-girl?"

"Nope."

"Shame, I particularly liked that one. Please don't tell me the haibane were a hallucination."

"Guri? That one I remember."

"Good. Okay, how about the fellow we met in the woods, next to a telephone box, of all things? You remember him asking, 'aren't you going to say something about it being bigger on the inside?' and I said, 'why do I have to tell you that?' and he laughed like a loon?"

"Pretty sure I'd remember that," Hermes answered.

"Well I do! It happened. He promised to take us somewhere. Funny, don't remember actually getting anywhere, though. Feel kinda let down about that. Anyway, right when I sat up, that's when it hit. Now I'm getting... shunted about from one place to another, and seeing it all at once."

"Hmm... that sounds like a kind of heightened state. Some mystics I knew described it, an 'aleph' I think they called it?"

"You're so smart, Hermes. You really ought to show it off more. Anyway, get to your story, huh? I'm dreading going to sleep again."

"Hermes!" The rafters rattled with the shout. Hermes started, then groaned inwardly. What now? Rescue another of the king's dalliances, maybe? For all I didn't like the idea of letting Iris do my job, I really enjoyed the quiet. Of course, he moved with all speed, and appeared before the throne.

"The king of Ilius is going to talk to Achilles, and try to buy the body of his son with ransom. Go, see that he makes it."

"Waitasec, he's gonna go try to negotiate with that mad dog?"

"That's not your concern. See to it the son of Laomedon reaches his destination safely."

"Right." And without another word, Hermes turned his attentions again to the battlefield.

The invading force had camped out for the night. Hermes could hear some snoring already, and see sentinels kindling campfires by last light. How does he expect I'm gonna sneak through all this, right into the tent of one of their foremost fighters?

So, what's the guy's name again? Huh... they called Hector "Priamides," so this guy must be "Priam."

Hector, Priam's son, was one of the few on either side that Hermes actually liked. For all the usual faults, the guy just wanted to protect his family — the old king, his wife, and his newborn — from foreign marauders. Naturally, everyone foresaw he'd end up dead. War had a habit of killing the brave and idealistic first.

The king and some old servant had ridden out on a horse-drawn wagon just before sunset, and had paused just inside bowshot of the walls to drink from the river and water their horses.

Hermes was tempted to just fade into the shadows, and "influence" things quietly to protect the pair, but then the old servant saw him, and pointed Hermes out to his master. The old king paled, and his eyes bugged-out, too frightened to utter a sound.

Oh well, they've seen me. Might as well be polite. "Hey, you old fools, what are you thinking, out on a night like this with a packed cart? Don't you know there's a war going on out here?"

The king nodded timidly.

"It's not like either of you graybeards're gonna win a sword fight, no offense." Hermes tried to fill the void with soothing conversation, before they tried anything stupid. "But don't worry, I'm not out here to hurt you. I'll uhh... I'll guard you."

The pair shared a glance, confused.

"Sure. 'Cause you uh... kinda remind me of my dad," Hermes added lamely.

"A kindly and strapping fellow like you must surely be a blessing to your father," the old king croaked, his voice breaking. Hermes mentally scolded himself. The old guy's lost two of his sons in the past few days, and you go remind him of that! Real tactful, Hermes.

"And you stand as proof that the gods have blessed my errand, that they have sent you to watch over me," the king abruptly fell forward and embraced Hermes, leaving the standoffish young deity looking rather awkward.

"About that, tell me, are you two just grabbing all your stuff and abandoning the city, or are you here 'cause your son has uhh... fallen?" Best to make sure this is Priam. Be just my luck if I watched over the wrong wagon.

The king gave him a suspicious look. "Who are you, and your father, that you know of my son's fate?"

If Hermes was good at anything, it was coming up with this hogwash on the fly. "Oh, I'm a squire to the Myrmidon named Achilles. Watched the fight. We all did. Certainly uhm... quite a battle your Hector made of it; you should be proud. Call me Polyctorides, 'cause my father's name is Polyctor... yeah... that's his name."

Oh, Hermes... "Polyctor" is the best you could do?

"Wealthy, 'bout your age. My six brothers and I drew lots. I got the short straw, so here I am, polishing Achilles' shield. Seriously, what're you doing out here?"

Priam put both his palms over Hermes' crossed arms. "I have left Ilius because the gods, in a dream, told me that Zeus pities me for my loss."

Yeah, "in a dream." Hermes ground his teeth. Pull that stunt once, and they think every little figment is a message from on high.

"If you're Achilles' squire, tell me... is my son still there at the ships, or has that butcher cut him limb from limb, and thrown him to the dogs?"

The old man's bearded chin quivered and, despite himself, Hermes started to feel sorry for the old fool. Apollo had mentioned that Hector's body was still intact. "The uhm... the gods have, out of respect for your son, cast the aegis over him, to protect his corpse," Hermes said portentously.

Back before things had turned sour, Hermes had told ol' Hep that Zeus had ordered an "aegis," and was getting impatient. Poor fellow fretted for a week, discreetly searching high and low for any hint as to what an aegis was. Hermes progressively let everyone in on the gag, so they could all conveniently mention Zeus's aegis in passing. In desperation, Hep eventually came up with a nonsensical scepter-like contraption involving a buckler and wool tassels. Zeus loudly pronounced it some of the craftsman's finest work.

"Oh, we are truly blessed," the old man sang piously. "See, it was wise of me to render all those sacrifices unto the gods, for they have favored us by bringing this man to watch over us." He produced a chalice from the wagon, and forced it into Hermes' hands. "Please, take this as payment, but see us safely to your master."

And just what would I do with that, anyway? "I.. don't think my master would approve of me taking 'presents' from the enemy. But tell you what, I'll take you there for free, okay? Climb on."

Hermes took the reins. Now as I recall, there's a back passage this way. They should all be asleep.

In a few minutes, they found Achilles' pavilion, an oversized ramshackle hut made out of pine, with a thatched roof, and more pine stakes for fencing. Hermes pulled the reins, rushed over to open the gate, and led the wagon inside.

"What fresh wonder is this? All the enemy sleeps!" Priam exclaimed. "Are you some sorcerer?"

"Will you pipe down?" Hermes sighed. "I used my maaagic to put everyone to sleep, yeah."

With the old man silenced, the only sound was snoring, and the wet gruntings of a soldier breaking in a woman he'd won in some contest or other.

"Show us to Lord Achilles," Priam begged. "I must have my son back, that I may show him proper honors, and bury his bones."

It's a corpse, you silly old man. And oh no, I am not dealing with Achilles! Not that a simpleton like Achilles was dangerous to creatures like Hermes, but he was a mangy-bearded brute who drooled into his dinner. Useless without his "friend" Patroklos to watch over him. Achilles' voice had cracked from shouting over the din of warfare, not that he had anything interesting to say. He claimed to be the son of Thetis, a river naiad, who was herself yet another of Zeus's offspring-by-someone-not-his-wife. 'Course all these humans claimed patrimony from some god or other; it was the latest craze. And he's likely gonna take a maul to these old dudes the second he lays eyes on 'em. Which is... not my problem. I've done my job.

"Look, Priam, I'm Hermes, okay? Achilles might resent seeing me keeping company with you two so... I'll seeya later, 'kay?"

And without further ado, Hermes used a simple trick to vanish into the shadows.

"Understand," Hermes explained, "the big lunkhead had just lost his best friend, and keeper. When Zeus sent me back, I found the two crying into their mead together. Agamemnon and his brother Meneleus were just using the others to get some plunder and women. The old duffer and the overgrown lummox saw each others' grief, and suddenly all that's forgotten, and they're drinking buddies!"

"I got Priam back home before his luck ran out, and he immediately went and killed a hundred innocent goats as a 'thank you.' Ain't that swell."

"So yeah, war's about a few rich, greedy guys convincing a bunch of big stupid guys to go rob decent people. And the winners make up stories about how valorous they were, and how the gods 'cast the aegis' in their favor. To this day, scholars are debating what the heck an 'aegis' is." Hermes chuckled.

"...Kino?"

No answer from inside the tent, except for the girl's soft breathing. Hermes sighed.

"Aw... phooey! Have some pleasant dreams for once, okay?"

People are flawed and imperfect.

-and so are you. The answer to that is compassion, not rejection.

(Part five of The Bird of Time, "A Horse in the Race," may be found in the Crossover section - BfB)