Thank you Innocence and Write-Dream-Fly for the great reviews!
Innocence, in reply to your concerns, I have tried to be more careful with the size of my paragraphs. The introduction was supposed to be a scholarly work, so I imagined it containing long paragraphs. In my mind, I wrote it so that you would be reading what Annabeth was reading, leading to the chapter cut-off. I guess it didn't work out as originally intended.
And no, the characters in this story do not have dyslexia, however, Percy is a peasant and will be somewhat illiterate. Both Annabeth and Percy are ADHD and you will find some elements of that in this chapter.
In case anyone was confused as to the time period in which this is taking place, that's entirely my fault. This story is set during the Baroque Era, specifically the early 1640s. Think of it as The Three Musketeers sort of place.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series or its characters.
"I am indebted to my father for living, but to my teacher for living well."
- Alexander the Great
Annabeth bolted up, startled from her sleep by a sudden rapping on the front of the carriage. She groggily rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she tried to regain her bearings. From what she could tell, it was early morning and the day had just begun. Her suspicions were confirmed upon drawing the curtains; she squinted, trying to adjust her vision to the soft dawn light that flooded the carriage.
Annabeth looked off to the east, waiting for Apollo to announce his grand entrance to the stage with a brilliant flash of light. She loved to watch the sun rise and begin its journey across the crystal clear sky. It was amazing to her that an object could create so much light before it even broke the horizon; she thought about how little light her bedside candles produced in comparison and this only reaffirmed her adoration for the power of the gods.
A second rap on the front of the carriage drew her attention away from the view.
"Miss, are you awake?" the carriage driver asked.
"I am now" Annabeth replied, slightly annoyed. "What news do you have that requires waking me up at this hour?"
"We are approaching the city. I wanted to know if you wish to head straight for the Ivory Palace or go sightseeing through the central square. If you want to see the city undisturbed, this would be the best time as the streets tend to less crowded in the morning."
Annabeth thought about it for a moment. She knew that she would have to be at the palace for noon to meet her new tutor and get settled in. But when would she ever get a chance like this again? She had her very own carriage with which to comfortably view all the magnificent buildings that lay within the city walls. The choice was easy.
"Take me through the city before we head to the palace. But make sure we reach our destination at twelve noon. Someone's expecting me and I can't have them waiting." Annabeth tersely replied.
"Of course my lady! I assure you that I am the best at keeping appointments. Your father pays me well for my promptness."
Annabeth tried to stifle a laugh at the driver's apparent enthusiasm for escorting a kid so long a way. She had to admit though, he was very professional about it. He catered to all her needs and only interrupted her over urgent matters. This offer for a trip around the city was completely unnecessary, but she was grateful all the same. She knew what a pain it must have been to take her all this way and it would seem a tempting option to drop her off as soon as possible. She would indulge his true motivation by tipping him well for his kindness, a few gold coins to fill his purse. Annabeth sat back and relaxed into the plush cushions that covered the bench. She looked back to the sun, watching it in silence for the remainder of the trip.
Annabeth grew more and more excited with each passing minute. They had just come off the bridge and now the city's outer walls lay behind them. It would not be long before they reached the inner city.
The carriage wove through the winding, narrow cobblestone walkways of the outlying communities, a corner of the city Ferrarans referred to as the "Derelict's Quarter". The state of this section of the city was no short of old and decrepit. The medieval hamlets that housed the poor were often rundown and lined with the decaying remains of small, stoned buildings. The fragile constructions looked as if they could collapse with even a small gust of wind and Annabeth questioned the structural integrity of many a house in this neighborhood. She wondered how any of the occupants could ever feel safe sleeping in their beds at night.
The locals looked no healthier than their houses. Their gaunt faces and thin frames showed just how little food they ate. She wondered if some of them even ate at all.
Their hygiene was a matter of even more concern. A few were so filthy, that they looked well beyond a hot bath's remedy. Many of them wore dirty, ragged threads and a few children ran about in their birth suits. She watched in horror as an unlucky boy was doused in the waste of a woman emptying her chamber pot. The sight of the miserable lad made her sick to the stomach and she choked down a bit of bile.
She quickly diverted her eyes to the various paupers that occupied the street corners. The ragged beggars stood there haggling passersby for anything of value, but their targets were often just as impoverished as they, if not more so. One old man sat slumped near an alleyway, his blindness preventing him from ever seeing the faces of the sympathetic donors dropping coins into his worn-out hat.
Annabeth felt relieved when they finally exited the grey walls of the Derelict's Quarter. The sight of those people wore heavy on her and she was more than happy to see the bustling streets of the market district. She watched the commoners milling about the various shops and booths, buying their daily necessities and entertaining themselves with the stock of the many street vendors.
The excited furor of the area was intoxicating. She looked on as crafty merchants galvanized young maids with impressive selections of beautiful jewelry and enticed wealthy nobles with the allure of exotic spices and other strange novelties; these men proved that making a fortune through trade was as much an act of showmanship as it was being adept in bookkeeping. For example, she noticed a wine seller handing out goblets, encouraging gullible saps to get tipsy off his "free samples" knowing full well that a man is less prudent while intoxicated.
There was yet more to the market than just merchants and store clerks, though. Farmers were busy setting up small stands, preparing to sell any extra produce so they might buy something special for their wives; fishermen and hunters sat ready at their kiosks, keen on selling the morning's catch. Hardened men of all character spent their time examining the finely crafted weaponry of the local smithies, some of them trading war stories or discussing the politics of the day. Even the whores were out, trying to seduce lusty young men in an attempt to earn extra silver before their madams called on their services for the evening stint.
However, the liveliest establishments seemed to be the small taverns with their rowdy, spirited patrons causing a ruckus both during and after a drinking binge. Annabeth sincerely wondered as to who could drink so much alcohol this early in the morning.
After witnessing so much enjoyable activity, Annabeth found herself becoming very interested in the business of barter and retail. She might come down here and peruse the shops herself if she found any free time.
When the carriage finally broke free of the crowded market streets, they crossed through the gates of the inner city, home to Ferrara's elite. The change was easily noticeable to say the least. They were instantly greeted by a large network of wide, expansive boulevards marked by a sea of beautifully laid grey brick. To either side of every boulevard were magnificent superstructures of marble and gold, each one leaving its own unique mark on the overall grandeur of the city.
Every building, large or small, was built to the specific tastes of the owner and it seemed as though each one down the line tried to outdo the last in a glorious display of egos.
Annabeth could instantly identify which buildings were the oldest and which were newest. She started to categorize them by the artistic period in which they were built. She started with the older buildings of the Renaissance. The classic buildings may not have been as chic as their contemporaries, but that did not make them any less magnificent. The aesthetic tastes of the time manifested themselves in those great works of art and it seemed as if the structures wore their characteristics with an elderly man's pride; they stood there, tall and unwavering, as sentinels of the past, weathering through the hardships of time to guard the treasures of history. The buildings were marked by their acute sense of symmetry, brightly colored domes, and extensive use of Greco-Roman style columns and archways. Each one varied in size and ornateness, but the collective thinking of the age's architects was evident in the general style with which the buildings were constructed.
The newer buildings built upon what their aging counterparts had started. The current style of architecture, what Annabeth's tutors had termed "Baroque", applied the same rules of symmetry, but called for much more detail with the ornaments that adorned the buildings. The current way to design a building was to make it extravagant. Beautiful, gaudy, however the observer wished to label it, the point was to attract as much attention as possible. This was done through the intense use of relief to accentuate light contrast. All the while, great emphasis is put on the repetitive use of certain shapes and immaculate decoration; design of the exterior is dependent upon recognizable patterns and minute detail.
A successful architect knew how to balance himself on the fine line of boldness; his creation had to be flamboyant if he wished to bring any attention to it, but it could not be so flashy as to abandon that classy charm that so many admired. Annabeth had a burning desire to be among the best and she was more than happy to start her journey on the gilded streets of Ferrara.
When Annabeth found a building that caught her eye, she signaled for the driver to stop the carriage. She hastily produced her sketchbook and graphite, and started recreating the building on paper. Once she was sufficiently satisfied, she gave the driver permission to take her to the next building. This went on for the next few hours until the driver reminded an engrossed Annabeth that she had an important meeting at the palace and that they would have to leave immediately if they were to arrive on schedule.
They traveled past the impressive vistas of the high nobility and through the central square. The square was home to the headquarters of the various administrative bureaucracies, each ministry of the government having its own building from where the magistrates carried out all their daily assignments.
Annabeth noted the heavy presence of the City Guard in this area; one troop marched past her carriage and she could tell that they were ready to deal with any problem that might arise. They were well-armed; two men carried halberds and another two carried a sort of carbine called a musketoon, while their commander was armed with an officer's sabre and a pistol. The weapons were shorter adaptions to their cousins used by the Royal Army and she knew that they would be much easier to handle in the small confines of a crowded city street. These men obviously were deployed to pacify riots, but she did not figure this to be a place of extreme social unrest. However, she did understand that the kingdom must be prepared for anything.
When the carriage arrived at the Ivory Palace, Annabeth felt her eyes pop out of their sockets. The place could be described as nothing less than amazing. She had listened to her tutors tell her of the palace; it was built with marble so pure, so clean, that when the sun graced it with natural light, it shined white with the brilliance of polished ivory.
As the location of the King's Court, this building was the center of Atlantean politics and a symbol of the heart of the kingdom; its creator obviously wanted to leave a lasting impression. It was a wide, rectangular building with five rows of windows spanning the length of the front side; the roof's initially low slope abruptly became steeper towards the center of the building, almost as with a cathedral. Half-columns were sculpted into the wall to frame the different sections of the building in a very novel way. Near the top, reliefs of great battles were carved into the marble. The figures were so well crafted they looked as if they really were waging war on top of the building.
The palace itself wasn't the only fine piece of work to behold; a great courtyard greeted the carriage before it pulled up at the front steps. The front yard consisted of a broad paved walkway framed with a magnificent garden on either side. Colorful flowers like tulips, lilacs, and rosebushes dotted the lawn in a stunning display of color. Here and there, an olive tree stood its ground and provided shade to its section of the lawn. All of this was supported by thick base of well-kept, green grass.
In the center of the yard, by the front of the palace, there sat a large circular reflecting pool enclosing a tall, pedestaled statue. The statue was of an imposing man, grim faced and clad full in battle armor, pointing south towards Roma. The figure alone must have been eight feet tall and when standing on the massive marble pedestal, it became a giant among men. The notorious figure was of course Thulcer Carthanai, the founder of Atlantis.
Annabeth did not notice herself get out of the carriage, she did not notice the servant girls take her things into the palace, she did not even notice her own breath hitch; she was so engrossed in the beauty of the area that time just seemed to stop.
Far too quickly, she was brought from her reverie by a high pitched whistle. Annabeth looked over and saw her driver pointing at his pocket watch. She instinctively pulled out her own and checked the time. Seven to twelve. She suddenly remembered her meeting and ran over to thank her driver, making sure to tip him extra well for the day's activities. At that moment, the head of staff came out and briskly escorted her into the palace.
Annabeth opened a large set of double doors and saw two men conversing; one was sitting in a chair and the other was standing around holding a rucksack. She guessed that the man standing in the center was a courier of sorts, so she had to believe that the one in the chair was her tutor. The sitting man, an older gentleman, saw her and smiled, hastily waving the courier away. He beckoned her over and she obeyed.
"You are late" the man said.
Annabeth cautiously looked at her pocket watch and replied with uncertainty. "But I arrived when the clock stuck twelve. Is that not when you asked to see me?"
The man replied with his same sweet smile, "Yes, I asked to see you then. You arrived at twelve exactly and that makes you late."
Annabeth was as confused as ever. "With all due respect, Mr. –"
"You may address me by my given name, Chiron."
Annabeth slowly began, "With all due respect, Chiron, how does that make me late?
Chiron continued to give Annabeth his comforting smile. "At court, time works differently than outside the palace walls. If you know you have an appointment and do not prepare to be five minutes early, then may as well be five minutes late"
Annabeth shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling quite embarrassed with herself.
He continued, "Take that man for example; you do not know what we discussed because you were not present to hear us. We may have been plotting your death, but you will never know because you arrived just as he left."
This caught Annabeth by surprise and Chiron now had her full attention. He still gave his warm smile, but Annabeth no longer saw him as the sweet old man that had first waved her over.
Chiron, seeming amused at the horror-struck look on Annabeth's face, attempted to assure her that he meant no harm. "Child, do not worry. I am not here to end your life, but rather to preserve it. Court is the most dangerous place a young woman can find herself. Your father knows this and made certain that I be your guardian."
Annabeth, being suddenly concerned for her own safety, timidly asked, "How could court be dangerous?"
Chiron, for the first time, let his smile slip and for once wore a serious expression. "Child, there are many powerful and ambitious men that walk these halls. They are concerned only with their agendas and wouldn't think twice about killing any who get in their way. I am here to teach you the ways of the courtier, to develop in you the instincts of identifying friend from foe. If you have any hope of returning to your father, you must be prepared to do things that you will later regret; your actions must be of a Machiavellian nature and your decisions cold and calculating. You will be vague to any person you are not familiar with and I expect your replies to be politic when addressed by those who would wish to do you harm. Remember, the art of pandering is not degrading; it is the only thing ensuring your survival, the only thing helping your chances of living long enough to see the sun rise in the morning."
He continued, "You must take these lessons seriously, and that starts with being early. You must give your all and more if you wish to stay ahead of the competition. If a magistrate asks you to balance the monthly budget, you will give him a budget sufficient for the year to come. If a maid asks you to clean a room, you will clean the entire hall; if the king asks you to wipe his bottom, you will have already wiped it. This is how you catch the eye of potential allies and expand your influence among the powers that be."
At this point, Chiron's lengthy speech was lulling Annabeth to sleep. She decided to keep her mind active by sizing him up. He was balding and his face was covered by a scruffy beard. Dark, bushy eyebrows sat atop a pair of intense eyes that revealed the wisdom of a man who had seen many things in his lifetime.
Annabeth's gaze dropped to his odd-looking chair; his legs and much of the chair were covered under a thick blanket. She noticed two circular bulges protruding from both sides of the chair. She realized, to her surprise, that they were large wheels!
"You're a cripple." Annabeth stated before she realized what she had said. She quickly put her hands up to cover her mouth, but it was too late to take back what had already been said.
This stopped Chiron mid-sentence and he gave her a curious look. Deeply ashamed and face turning scarlet, Annabeth tried to apologize. "I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I should never have been so rude."
Chiron let out a hearty laugh, much to the embarrassment of the trembling Annabeth.
Chiron smiled saying, "Child, there is nothing to forgive; no harm has been done. I understand that I am physically impaired and I accept it. The gods are unpredictable in the ways they affect our lives, and so, we must all put to use what we are given."
He added, "I am impressed at your perceptiveness, it will serve you well at court. However, I advise that you work on keeping your findings to yourself, both out of respect of other men's feelings and your own head." He made his point by tapping his outstretched fingers across the back of his neck.
Annebeth felt her hand snaking up to feel her own neck in a subconscious attempt to see if it was still there.
Chiron tucked his loose blanket under his legs and rolled his way over to her.
He asked her with all seriousness, "Did you bring a personal weapon?"
Annabeth shook her head. She was grossly unprepared for life at court.
Chiron produced a small blade from a sheath hidden in the side of his chair. "You may have mine. Think of it as a gift from master to pupil."
Annabeth took the knife and examined it. It was a beautiful bronze dagger with a hilt wrapped in cured leather. Annabeth had used daggers before, but never had one felt so right to hold; the balance was good and she felt as if she could take on anyone who threatened her.
Chiron gave her the matching leather sheath. "You will practice with it every day and you will always have it on your person, discreetly of course. Keep it strapped to your ankle underneath your blouse. And be careful with it, it is not a toy; it may very well become the only thing standing between you and certain death."
Annabeth thanked Chiron, her eyes never leaving her new weapon.
Chiron smiled and turned to leave. "Come, there is much work to be done. I'll show you around the palace and then we'll get your stuff unpacked. Your lessons begin tomorrow morning at six sharp... and don't be late."
Annabeth smirked at her tutor and followed him out of the room. She figured that her time here might not be so bad, that is, as long as she managed stay out of trouble.
A/N: I hope you guys liked it. I apologize if this story is developing too slowly, but I view it as a work of art. Nothing ever came out good by rushing it.
And don't worry, Percy makes his big debut in the next chapter.
Remember, I like to hear your thoughts and critique. Reviews are encouraged. Thank you all for the support and have a nice week!