Prev | Current Page 159 | Next

Tymon, Frank

"The Tarn of Eternity"

Above, the wind
tore at the furled sails. The hawsers, stretched taut, groaned
under the torment. Seabirds landed on the deck, sought shelter
from the storm.
"Is it now? Has he come?"
Proteus, now in human form, nodded. "It is surely Oceanus. I
will address him. He will listen to me." Proteus spoke with
little assurance, his eyes watching the ever wilder sea.
"Oceanus, 'tis I, your old friend, Proteus. We would meet with
you, on the Golden Isles. Poseidon is amenable to concessions.
He would negotiate with you. This day we sail for the Golden
Isles."
The words seemed to have little effect. Then, gradually, the
winds died, and the waves grew ever smaller. A light breeze
rose, steady, blowing toward the Golden Isles.
Quickly the sails were unfurled. The ship rode smoothly and
swiftly toward the distant shore. In the bilge sea water
continued to slop, gradually was dumped over the side.

"A gift, Zeus, from Poseidon." Demo handed Zeus a golf club,
handle of gold.
Zeus frowned. "And what of my missive?"
"Given to him, Sire. He acknowledges that his payment has,
indeed, been delayed. But, another matter might interest you. A
terrible battle ensued between Poseidon and Oceanus. The waters
of the oceansea thundered upon ship and shore. Islands
disappeared haplessly into the depths. Still they fought in ever
more desperate anger.
They labored for a day, and only with nightfall did Poseidon
finally dominate.


Pages:
147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171
Herbata systemy crm wynajem autokarów Helpdesk hotels glasgow