Beyond Hades: The Prometheus Wars (43 page)

The giant reached across with its right hand just as Gyes aimed a multi-limbed blow at its temple, grabbing the flailing figure by several of its heads, tearing the Hecatonchires loose from his precarious position on the giant's shoulder. Gyes sought frantically to get loose from the giant's grip, but it grabbed him roughly by the legs, and with an enormous wrench it tore the Hecatonchires apart.

Leaving its huge club on the ground, the giant lurched to its feet once more. Wes and Talbot rode forward, but with the legs of the giant moving as unpredictably as they were, it would be madness to ride in close enough to attack. For the moment all they could do was watch.

Wes glanced around and saw the main swarm of Titans was rapidly approaching, so whatever they did, they'd have to do it quickly or risk being overwhelmed by the horde of warriors.

Looking back at the giant, he saw Kottos still clinging onto its waist, his smashing blows finally showing some effect. The giant moved to snatch Kottos in the same fashion it had Gyes, but Kottos scrambled away, and the giant's snatch with its left hand missed -

But the snatch with its right hand didn't.

Kottos thrashed against the giant, who managed to get a firm grip on his left leg. The Hecatonchires battled valiantly against the giant's grip, but the colossus swung him around and threw him with all its strength, smashing him with tremendous force into the Olympian wall. So violent was the impact, in fact, that cracks spread through the brickwork all the way down to the ground. Several Olympian defenders were thrown from the battlements by the reverberations, to fall, screaming, to the rocky ground below, abruptly silenced.

The giant glanced around, unsure of where the third Hecatonchires brother - Briareus - had gone. Wes glimpsed the giant's back, spotting Briareus perched there. The giant might not be the brightest enemy they'd ever faced, but it would only take a moment before it realized there was a fifty-foot-tall creature with a hundred arms and fifty heads hanging behind its shoulder.

"Let's go, now!" he ordered Talbot, who instantly kicked his mount into a charge.

They powered forward, splitting apart as each aimed for one of the giant's legs. The behemoth saw them coming, turning to face them at the same time as Briareus rose up upon its shoulders and raised a mighty stone sword above his head using nearly half of his arms, while the remainder clung onto the hair sprouting from the giant's neck.

The giant never noticed any of this. It seemed to only have the capacity for focusing on a single enemy at any one time, and right now it was focused entirely on Wes and Talbot as they raced headlong toward it.

Briareus's sword was not of the Olympian style. It had no energy flowing through it to help slice through the toughened flesh of its enemy like Chiron's sword. But as the massive Hecatonchires - the last of his kind - swung his ten-foot blade with all the strength he possessed, Wes knew it wouldn't matter.

Briareus might only be a third of the size of his enemy, but with fifty arms swinging his weapon, he might have just as well been the giant's equal. The sword bit deep, wedging two-thirds of the way into the giant's neck, severing its spine and killing it instantly.

Wes and Talbot hauled on their reins, watching the giant teeter precariously, a bemused expression upon its face before it slowly fell, crashing down heavily...

... directly onto the weakened section of the Olympian wall!

The wall, already strained and cracked from the impact of Kottos, buckled under the tremendous weight of the giant falling on it, collapsing away on either side of the corpse, all the way to the ground, leaving a huge gap through which the invaders could attack.

Defenders scattered from the battlements as more and more of the wall crumbled. Some Olympians who were too slow to react fell headlong from the broken wall, screaming for a hundred feet until they were dashed on the rubble below.

"Holy shit," muttered Talbot beside Wes.

Wes glanced away from the carnage, unsure if this were the first time he had ever heard the archaeologist swear. "You can say that again, Doc," he finally managed, looking back at the devastation, and then behind at the surging Titan army.

The tens-of-thousands of Titan warriors had been waiting for this moment, seemingly strolling along, in no rush while they let the giants breach the walls. But now the fortification was crushed and broken, and the invaders sensed their moment of conquest was nigh.

Generals began to bark commands and ranks of soldiers instantly snapped into order. The minotaurs gathered at the front of the ranks, and Wes saw something he initially couldn't believe.

"We have to get inside, now!" Wes said hoarsely. Talbot nodded, swung his mount around and galloped off through the gap in the wall as the Olympians sought to move temporary barricades into place around the breach.

Wes looked out at the Titan army once more, seeking another glimpse of the thing which had caused his heart to jolt. Finally he spotted it circling around a hundred feet above the invaders.

It was a glittering bronze eagle.

CHAPTER 17

Talbot spun at the sound of Wes swearing. "What's wrong, Wes?" he asked, and then glanced at the carnage surrounding them. "I mean besides the obvious."

"I just saw that big shiny bird thing flying around above the Titans," replied Wes. "The same one Prometheus had as a pet."

Talbot was shocked. "Could there be another one? Or could it be the same one, but with a new master?"

"I guess so, but Prometheus was just about humping that thing in Tartarus. I can't imagine someone else being able to control it so easily. I need to ask Zeus what he knows about Prometheus."

"I'll come with you," said Talbot.

The two navigated their way away from the temporary barricades. Briareus had managed to drag the giant clear of the breach, and the barricades were slowly being fitted. Though made from a steel-like substance which looked extremely strong, Talbot could tell they wouldn't last long against the vast horde clamoring outside the walls.

They may have taken out the Titans' strongest weapons in the gryphons and giants, but there were still close to forty thousand warriors on the other side of those
temporary
barricades. Even the walls at their strongest could have only held out for perhaps a couple of days. The catapults were firing consistently at the army, as were the archers, but that would not hold back the ocean of warriors. Soon the Titans would either scale the Olympian wall or push through the breach. Either way, the result would be the same: the Olympians would be routed and their city would be seized by the invaders.

But for the moment that hadn't come to pass, and Talbot had recently come to realize that until something actually happened, hope still remained, no matter how dark and certain the outcome seemed.

Zeus was organizing troops along the wall with calm efficiency and Talbot guessed it must have been his decision to hurl the Hecatonchires brothers at the final giant. The leader of the Olympians was garbed in full armor, the shining bronze making him look even more like the god of myth. Briareus stood close by, no sign of remorse over the loss of his brothers - at least none Talbot could notice.

"Hey Zeus," called Wes, "I need a word with you."

"What is it?" asked Zeus calmly, and Talbot marveled at the unruffled composure the leader of the Olympians portrayed.

"What do you know about Prometheus?" asked Wes without preamble. "I mean, I cut his fucking head off back in Tartarus, but I can see his bird flying around out there."

Zeus looked out over the Titan army, shielding his eyes against the dropping red sun and soon spotting the glint of light reflecting from the bird Wes spoke of.

"That eagle was designed by
Hephaestus to eventually destroy Prometheus. It was supposed to consume him fully in order to stop him from regenerating, but he somehow tricked the bird into becoming his servant instead."

"How come he can't die?" asked Wes.

Zeus shrugged. "We never found out. Personally I think he is simply a mutation of centuries of genetic testing and atmospheric toxins which have somehow created some sort of humanoid with the ability to reproduce organs at will. Like the starfish from your world, or a lizard which can re-grow its tail."

"So you reckon Prometheus is a starfish, is that what you're saying?" asked Wes, the sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

"No, of course not," replied Zeus without anger, "but he does have traits similar to those creatures. That he is powerful is beyond question; his ability to shape shift at will is also most impressive. Moreover, according to your story about him being in your world and speaking your tongue, he apparently also has the ability to adopt languages as well. Luckily he can't take up the Elder-tongue, since this is genetic and can never be otherwise acquired."

"So is he the only one of these bastards like that?" asked Wes.

"The only one we ever knew of," replied Zeus, gazing out at the battlefield once more.

"So how do you propose we fight these bastards off?" asked Wes.

"Fight them off?" asked Zeus, seemingly shocked by the concept. "Our first war against the Titans decimated my people to the point you see today. Mount Olympus is the largest settlement of people in Olympia, though there are other settlements within a few days' travel. However, they are of no aid to us at this time and we now have fewer than a thousand warriors to fight off forty times that number from a race which thrives on war and death. We managed to defeat them once through good fortune and skill. Now we will be lucky if we survive this day."

"Always good to be optimistic," said Wes with a slight sneer.

"I am open to suggestions," countered Zeus.

"So this is it? We just fight until everyone's dead?"

Zeus merely stared at him calmly, and Wes cursed. Talbot moved beyond the duo and over to the crenellated battlement, leaning on the wall and gazing out. What he saw made his stomach clench.

Row upon row of Titan soldiers, covered from head to toe in black armor. Their weapons varied from swords to wicked-looking spears and strange, boomerang-like weapons made from the same metallic substance their armor was crafted from.

The minotaurs, none of which wore armor, were bunched around the breach in the wall, trying to force a way through the barriers by brute strength. Talbot saw huge ladders being brought in from the rear of the attackers. Judging their position they would take at least half an hour to reach the front of the army. He shook his head at the obvious disorganization of the Titan force; there seemed to be nobody in charge of the logistics and from what Talbot could see there were no supplies. Each Titan relied on what he could carry, with no baggage train containing food or extra weapons. Against a host of equal numbers ready for a prolonged siege, these warriors would have been ill-prepared.

But no amount of disorganization on the part of their enemies could help the Olympians now. Talbot scanned the wall and saw around seven hundred defenders remained of the original thousand. Three hundred dead - a third of their force - and the battle proper had not yet been engaged. Staring out at the force of Titans, Talbot could understand Zeus's resignation.

Archers were shooting into the ranks of the Titans, but most of the attackers carried huge black shields, and the arrows were deflected harmlessly. Sometimes they would ricochet off a shield and hit one of the Titans, but their armor seemed made of a substance which protected them from the Olympian technology, and few were injured.

The projectiles from the catapults were a different story altogether.

The semi-circular missiles launched by the catapults smashed through the rear ranks of the Titans, decimating them without mercy. There was some sort of explosive effect to the barrel-sized projectiles, which blew them apart on impact. The results within the tightly packed ranks of the Titans were devastating. The Titan army was now near enough that the catapults were becoming ineffective. At a distance, the catapults were incredibly accurate and fantastically destructive. Close up, however, they were almost useless, and couldn't hit anything closer than three hundred yards. As the attacking warriors realized this, they pushed in nearer to the wall, negating the effectiveness of the weapons.