The History of Amphites and Carina, Part I

By: Ilen Posted on: March 31, 2016

Amphites paced the dirt floors of his new home, jaw clenched. "Where is she?" he shouted, sweeping his hand across his desk and flinging everything from maps to ink and quill to the floor. He turned with cold precision to glare at the soldier in front of him, who gulped but managed to keep his chin up. "She went into the jungle hours ago, Polemarch." Daeon's words were only slightly stammered, knowing he should remain calm and collected. He'd served as a hoplite to Amphites for many years and he knew his commanding officer's moods.

"Find her." The two words were uttered with a chilling calmness, causing Daeon to all but trip in his haste to turn and order the camp to begin the search. Inside, Amphites flopped into a chair and grabbed the portrait that hung around his neck. "Carina..." his voice was a soft murmur, tender and loving compared to the anger of just moments before. He trailed a finger along the sweet features of his wife, whispering, "Where have you gone? What have you done? I need you here with me."

The day passed, and then the night. Shaking openly with fear, Daeon stood in front of Amphites, watching his commander with uncertainty as Amphites gazed at the portrait of his wife. When he looked up at the soldier, his icy gaze was barely second to the bone-chilling fear his voice induced. "What do you mean you -can't- find her? We're on a bloody island!" Daeon gulped, trying to look everywhere but his captain. "We.. we've searched everywhere, m'lord. The camp, the jungle. We asked the natives. None have seen her since she left camp yesterday."

Amphites rose slowly from his chair, raising a hand as if to choke his old friend. The man gasped, his flesh turning blue and then purple as his teeth chattered from the chill his commander afflicted him with. "You're all idiots," Amphites sneered. "Check the natives' camps, their holy grounds, their caves. They took her. Now FIND HER!" Daeon fled from Amphites' bellowed order, rousing the exhausted men to do as their commander demanded.

The men searched tirelessly, none wanting to be the one to tell Amphites that his wife still could not be found. Exhaustion steeped into every ounce of their bodies as one day became a week and then a month. Finally, weary past any point he'd known before and utterly defeated, Daeon returned to Amphites, shoulders slumped. "She's gone, m'lord. We've invaded every holy space the natives have, searched every cavern we can find. There's no sign of her, no trace. The natives grow restless because of our constant searching, saying we have no respect for their ways. We have to stop, sire. I'm sorry."

Looking increasingly disgruntled, Amphites turned, looking ready to smite the hoplite where he stood. Suddenly he stopped and the smile he gave was more chilling than anything the soldier had seen before. "Take me to the nearest camp. We'll have a... word with these natives."

Amphites took no short cuts as they strode through the jungle to a camp of the natives who had been helping build the Ashtani naval base. A whole contingency went with him, fully armed and armoured, with flag bearers leading the way. The procession went slowly, and did exactly as Amphites had intended: the natives stirred restlessly, feeling on edge about the warriors who strode into their camp. The youngest of the flag bearers, a boy of barely fifteen, cleared his throat nervously, calling out, "Amphites, Polemarch of Ashtan, commands your leader to step forth."

The crowd of natives stirred. Who was this man, to command their leader? Amongst the murmurings and mutterings, a man pushed his way forward. He held a hand up and the natives ceased their disgruntled whispers. "What is the meaning of this? You march into our camp armed? We have done nothing to you." Amphites sneered at the man addressed him, sweeping his arm out as he responded, "Nothing? You've done nothing, Ichtaca? YOU TOOK MY WIFE!" His bellowed words echoed through the jungle, causing birds to shriek in alarm and the jaguars to pace.

Ichtaca raised his chin, responding defiantly, "We did nothing with your wife, Amphites. If you cannot find her, she must have left you. Seeing you this way, none of our men would have blamed her." Cold rage filled Amphites eyes as he stepped forward, grasping Ichtaca and pressing a dagger to his heart. "Carina -loved- me. She would never have left me!" Too quick for anyone to respond, Amphites shifted, sending the dagger deep into Ichtaca's heart. Silence fell as the man crumpled to the ground and Amphites reached down to rip his heart from his chest.

Lifting the hand holding the bloodied heart, Amphites yelled, "Do you see this? THIS will be the fate of your men, women, and children until my wife is returned to me. Every day that passes, I will kill more of you until you bring Carina back to me!" Most stood speechless, but one woman rushed forward, throwing her body over Ichtaca's. "Amphites, your Carina would never have wanted this. You know this."

Amphites turned chilling eyes to the woman, his voice cruel and cold as he replied, "Carina isn't here because of you, Yaretzi. Yet let none say I am not kind. I wlll let you join your husband." The crowd gasped and Yaretzi's eyes went wide as Amphites slammed his hand into her chest, not even giving her the kindness he gave her husband by slaying him first. "I've claimed two this day. Tomorrow I will claim another two, and every day forward until you return to me Carina." With this vow, he turned and led his men back to their encampment, leaving the Khulians to mourn their leader and his wife.

For the next week, Daeon and the other five hoplites beneath Amphites dreaded the setting sun. Amphites cared not who he killed, but claimed two lives each night, from infants to the elderly. Daeon nor Pascas could talk Amphites into doing anything else, and so they followed their Polemarch despite their heavy hearts. That seventh night, though, they returned to the village to find the Khulians armed against them. The fight was brutal and fast, and Amphite's cruel laughter echoed through the jungle as bodies fell, regardless of what side they were on. For their gall, he gathered ten of the tribe's children that night, slaying them without feeling as their mothers watched on. The sobs of those women haunted the men that night and as exhaustion claimed them, they heard the whispers of the dead tormenting them amidst the enraged snarls of the jaguars.

'Carina never loved you. She despised you and wanted as far away from you as possible.' The sibilant whisper crawled through Amphites' mind, bringing forth images of his beloved wife smiling maliciously and taunting him. "SHUT UP!" he shouted, rousing the entire camp. Daeon rushed in, eyes wild and bloodshot to ask, "Polemarch? What's wrong?" Amphites dragged his fingers through his hair, scowling as he muttered, "The whispers. They. Won't. Quit. Haunting. Me." Every word its own sentence, Amphites muttered again and stood up.

Daeon glanced at his feet before saying, "The men are hearing it too, m'lord. We can't sleep. Not since that night with the children. We're jumping at shadows. We've had to cease working on the fortification because the men are so exhausted they were doing more harm than good." Amphites grumbled, getting up to strap his armour on.

"Enough is enough, Daeon! They will pay for this!" Amphites grabbed his sword as he pushed the flap on his tent open, leaving Daeon to scramble behind him. "Polemarch! What are you doing?"

"Gather the men, Daeon. We're ending this. Now. You will attack their holy village while I make sure they pay. Do you understand me?" Amphites' words left no room for argument and Daeon quickly gathered the men, Eurynestes and the other hoplites gathering around. They murmured a bit together, only a few of the men noticing their nods as they set out to do as their Polemarch demanded.

Amphites' strides were decisive, and only those who knew him well would have noticed the small flinches as the whispering voice hounded him. 'She left you. She abandoned you. She left you all alone.' Mocking laughter echoed in his ears as the voice relentlessly assaulted him. "Not good enough for your own bride, how can you be good enough for your King? What will he think of your slaying innocent children in your quest for your bride?" Every word drove Amphites to move quicker, until he was running through the jungle, his men struggling to keep up.

At last they arrived at the holy village, where the tribe's most holy artefacts were kept. "Kh'lon!" Amphites' bellow echoed through the village he shouted for the tribe's shaman. "Your staff is mine, Kh'lon! I won't let you use your foul magic on my soldiers any more!" Amphites twisted, avoiding the natives' spears and arrows as he ran for the cavern holding their most holy staff. The hoplites and soldiers distracted the natives from their commander, more at home with open warfare than the executions that had been occurring.

The sounds of spear after spear and arrows whizzing through the air filled the village. Children cried and women screamed, but this time they were ignored unless they got in the way of the soldiers fighting.

Amphites entered the cave with a triumphant smile, seeing the staff set upon an altar. "The fools," he murmured, "leaving it in the open like that." He stepped forward to take it, wrapping a hand around the jade artefact. Carvings etched deep into the stone depicted symbols of the earth and elements and magnificent depictions of jaguars wove through the elemental carvings. The power it held was obvious, as it shimmered with an argent luminescence. He turned to leave the cave and as soon he stepped outside, he held the staff up triumphantly, exclaiming, "It is mine! No more will your foul whispered tricks plague me or my people!"

Cheers exalted from the Ashtani forces as they pounded their spears on the ground. A chanted "Polemarch! Polemarch! Polemarch!" rose from the ranks as his men crowded around him. In the shuffling aftermath, Amphites felt something pull at the staff and his gaze quickly scanned those surrounding him. "Kh'lon," he murmured. Yanking at the staff, he pulled back, screaming once more, "It is mine!" The wizened shaman's grip tightened, his scarlet robes embroidered with a black jaguar and yellow flames adding to his dignity as he stared down the Polemarch.

"No, Amphites. It will never be yours." At the soft words, the natives and soldiers resumed battling, each trying to reach their leader to support their individual causes. Amphites and Kh'lon struggled, each using their own powers to try to get the upper hand. Viney tendrils continuously tried to wrap around Amphites' body as Kh'lon used the power of the jungle against him, but Amphites' own necromancy not only caused them to shrivel and die, but began to effect Kh'lon's own limbs.

The staff's silver hue began to dim as Amphites' dark powers overwhelmed it and as Kh'lon tugged again, the field went silent. The SNAP as the staff cracked in half echoed through jungle before the angered growls and calls of the jungle's jaguars overwhelmed their ears. "What have you done?" demanded Kh'lon as he gaped at the broken staff in his hands. Amphites sneered, his tone condescending as he replied, "I did nothing, old man. You're the one who fought me for this staff. Its breaking is your own fault."

Amphites turned, still grasping one half of the staff. "Fall back! We have won." His voice carried easily through the clearing, and the Ashtani army headed to their camp as the women of the Khulians began to wail.

It was a scream that woke the camp, blood curdling and chilling beyond anything they had heard before. They found marks at the edge of camp showing their comrade had been dragged away, but the marks quickly faded to nothing. Amphites was torn as night after night more of his soldiers disappeared, because the one bright spot to the news was that twisted beasts were haunting the Khulians and destroying them just as much as his own men. He didn't know what to do about this though, and as his numbers dwindled he fought internally over what he should be doing. And then a ship was seen on the horizon.

Amphites and his men watched as it docked, wondering who it could be. No one he recognised, he noticed. A page stepped forward, bowing to Amphites and announcing, "A message from his royal majesty, King Martin, Polemarch." Amphites nodded to signal the page to continue. "His majesty has heard of your troubles here, and commands you to gather your men and return post haste to the crown city of Ashtan, where you shall present your report of the events that have unfolded. I will sail ahead to inform our beloved King of your acceptance to his command."

Knowing there was truly nothing else to be done, Amphites acquiesced and sent the page and the King's ship back to Ashtan. It took a few days, but those remaining of his men packed their things and boarded ship to return home, though none knew if it would be to shame or jubilation.

The wind blew moderately as the ship sailed out of its berth. Amphites stood at the stern of the ship, watching as the island where he'd lost his wife faded from view. The ache in his heart seemed echoed by the pulsing silver glimmers of the staff in his hand as he lifted his head and vowed, "I'll never forget you, Carina. Someday we'll be together again."