Chapter 21. A Master of Monsters
He stared at them with his two close-set eyes, grumbling from the other side of the clearing.
Penelope's arms were tensing so tight at the ropes binding her to the pole that her hands were pounding from lack of circulation. She couldn't die like this. She wouldn't die like this.
The creature took several steps forward, crossing the equivalent of twenty paces for anyone of a normal size. He leered over the two captives, easily twice their height. Gaining a closer look at his sacrifice, he sneered, bearing broad and blunted teeth inside a crooked jaw. The beast was hideously disproportioned. A large head sat atop a short neck and platter-sized hands were connected by thick and stocky arms. An entire sheepskin was tied around his waist as a massive loincloth, holding back what would be a one-eyed monster.
He spoke.
"Where is my Beloved?" His voice was thunder and gravel.
Beloved? Penelope didn't understand. Gagged as she was (and frightened to the core), she could only offer a whimpering mmph as answer.
The creature spoke again. "They promised me. Where is she?"
Confusion seemed little in comparison to her fear, so Penelope could again offer only a whimper.
"The little ones lied to me. They lied to me again!" With a sudden burst of fury, the creature swung an arm, catching a granite column and sending the stacks flying into the tree line.
Penelope's scream was muffled by the sodden leather rag in her mouth. She couldn't remember the last time she'd screamed like that. Not since her nightmares as a young girl when monsters were a nothing but a product of an overactive imagination. Beside her, Daphne was still struggling frantically in her ropes.
The beast seemed to make an effort of composing himself, huffing and puffing, before turning back to the two polebound captives. His beady eyes darted back and forth from Penelope to Daphne to Penelope again, deciding.
"Prmmsh," Penelope begged. "Dhm't hmrt ugsh!"
If the creature understood the gagtalk, he paid no attention. He lifted a wide hand and gently stroked his thick fingers down Penelope's body. Those fingers could crush my skull, Penelope thought as her imagination went as wild as the beast before her. The tight ropes kept her vulnerable to its touch. She clenched her eyes shut, praying to the goddesses for a quick and painless death.
But the deities had different plans.
The creature clumsily pinched the top of the wooden pole above Penelope's head and lifted it straight into the air. Penelope stayed put, feeling the long shaft slip out of the loops of her ankle binds and chest harness, until she was no longer supported and began to fall. The beast's large hand flicked the pole aside as though it were a fishbone after a good meal and caught Penelope before she hit the ground. From bound shoulders all the way to the hem of her leather skirt, the creature held her inside his massive hand, compressing her chest and abdomen in his four huge fingers. She felt like a mouse in comparison, and her squeaks were no help at all.
Then the beast did the same to Daphne, uprooting the pole from its purchase in the soil and catching the redhead on her fall. She struggled like never before (and there were many befores) inside the creature's grip.
"Do not struggle," the creature warned as Daphne squirmed and writhed in his fist. "I could crush you without knowing." It was not a threat to be taken lightly, and Penelope and Daphne both found themselves staying as still as their trembling bodies would allow.
The beast scanned the clearing again, squinting under his thick brow. "Beloved?" he asked again, quietly, before slowly turning around and carrying the captives deeper into the forest.
He moved quickly, brushing aside trees as a woman would brush through a curtain. Large footprints trailed behind his path, leaving a patch of crushed grass where once the blades stood tall. Penelope was certain the creature had crushed a boulder into pebbles on more than one occasion.
The ropes binding her were tight, but they were nothing compared to the clasping fingers around her torso. They roughly chafed against the smooth skin of her bust and, much to Penelope's embarrassment, kept her body distracted from her peril.
The creature did not speak much. He grumbled and muttered as softly as a beast his size could manage, sending vibrations through his stubby arms and distracting Penelope further. Mostly, he seemed sad and angry. "Beloved?" he asked of the leaves in the trees. "Lies," he accused of the rocks on the ground.
The morning light was still glistening through the canopies as Penelope and Daphne were carried into another clearing at the base of a smoking mountain. The hard-packed soil was separated from the lush forest by a wall of carcasses - sheep, dear, wolf, bear - and mortared with the remains of fish, rabbits, birds and bats. Penelope scanned nervously for human skulls before losing sight of the wall as she was carried into a dark cave.
She was dropped on the ground as a bored child might discard a toy, landing with a thud against a low mound of sand. Daphne joined her soon after, landing upside-down and confused. The ropes were still binding their arms and legs without any give, and the leather rags in their mouths muffled the groans.
The beast's cave was not a home by any person's standards. Even the Picene witch's cave had a certain decorative aspect to it. But this was little more than a long shaft of hollowness with a fire pit in the mouth and a ring of mounds lining a hard and uneven charred stone floor. A small pile of possibly wine-filled amphorae was stacked against the cave wall. The ground was littered with old frayed ropes, small bones and shards of pottery. The smell hung heavy in the air, burning wood and cooked flesh mixed with the strong hint of wine.
"Beloved?" the creature called into the darkness. "Lies," he cursed the echoed reply. He looked down at his fire pit. Nothing but charcoal remains with a pair of iron tripods standing either side of it. He grunted again and thudded his way back out the cave, mumbling his two favourite words over and over again.
Penelope seized on the opportunity. She wriggled slowly in her bonds so as not to draw the beast's attention. It was as little hope then as it had been when first bound by the teenaged pirate girls. They'd tied their knots far out of reach and didn't give her slack in which to struggle. Bound at the elbows, wrists, knees and ankles, Penelope was completely stuck.
"Dmmphme," she called to her companion, "cmn mn remng hmr rhhps?"
But Daphne was tied even tighter. Her ropes were double-wrapped and her limbs had twice the number of knots pinning them together. One soft breast had released itself from the confines of her leather bodice, irritating the redhead as it pressed into the coarse sand below. But she wasn't struggling so much as she always did. Only her hands were fiddling, a small flat rock grasped tightly between her fingers.
She can't reach her own ropes, Penelope realised. They're too tight to find the angle. But Penelope's bonds were looser, just.
The captain wriggled down the low slope of the sand mound and lined herself back-to-back with her companion. "Gmmph m hm rrrk," she ordered. But Daphne either misunderstood or had her own plans. The redhead began grinding the sharp stone against Penelope's own wrists, slowly fraying at the pirates' ropes and giving her captain the first chance at freedom. Penelope was unsure of that but it was hardly an appropriate time to argue.
"Bronze!" the creature roared suddenly. "Fire!" He'd re-entered the cave with a pile of logs held under one arm and a handful of twigs and leaves and other kindling in his other fist. Penelope froze, as did Daphne. Had they been noticed? The creature dropped his logs and kindling down beside the fire pit, staring at his two bound captives with his beady close-set eyes. "Which one has less bones?"
Bones? Penelope's heart sank to her stomach. He's going to eat us. She and Daphne remained silent, perhaps hoping that silence would make the beast forget about them.
It didn't. The creature was standing next to them within two of his inhuman paces, staring down at them angrily. Kneeling, he extended a thick finger towards Penelope's face, pinched the strap keeping her gagged and pulled it down loose around her neck. "Bones?" it asked again more angrily.
Penelope picked her words carefully, knowing they could be her or Daphne's last. "We both have the same number of bones," she replied, trying not to tremble.
"Hmm," the creature grunted. "I hate bones." That much was obvious by the stockade he'd built outside. He unexpectedly pinched the ropes holding Penelope's arms to her chest and tore them apart, then did the same to her elbows and wrists. It was clumsy work, such was the thickness of the fingers. "Untie," he commanded.
Penelope did as she was ordered. The alternative would likely be a premature death. She quietly untied the knots holding her knees and ankles.
"Untie Fire," the beast commanded again, pointing at Daphne. It seemed Daphne was Fire and she was Bronze, following the colour of their hair. Penelope hadn't noticed but she was no longer cherry-red, replaced by a light bronze the colour of the polished braces she used to wear on her wrists. She obeyed. First the redhead's arms and then her legs were freed. Daphne made a move to ungag herself but the creature slammed a wide foot down hard on the ground.
"Stay," he ordered. Daphne glared back in retaliation, knowing she had no choice in the matter. "Strip," the beast said. "Leather ruins the taste."
Penelope had never expected death to be humiliating. Being eaten was one thing; preparing herself as a dish was another. The creature slammed his foot again impatiently and the captives began unlacing their bodices and unclasping the straps. Their leather armour fell to the cold floor, leaving the captives even more vulnerable than before, wearing only their sandals.
"Tie," he said, pointing at Penelope and then Daphne.
"You want me to tie her up again?" the captain asked incredulously. Dying reached a new low, helping the creature prepare her friend as a meal.
The beast flared his nostrils menacingly and bared his blunted teeth. Penelope begrudgingly picked up more ropes from around her feet, drawing her companion's wrists in front of her. The creature slammed his foot again. "Behind!" he roared. "Hands, elbows, knees, feet, hips."
"I'm sorry," the captain whispered to her friends. Daphne mmphed in reply, forgivingly.
Once Penelope had completed the knots, the beast then clumsily began wrapping her arms and legs with old coarse rope. It was no wonder he made his captives tie each other up for him. His fingers were too thick to tie the knots well, though he made up for it with brute strength. Penelope could feel her hands and feet tingling by the time he was finished.
The creature seemed almost to grin, though it could have easily been a snarl. He plucked a strong branch from his pile of logs and measured its height against Daphne before sliding it down between her bound arms and legs, skewering her helplessly around it. "Mmmmmph!?" she begged pitifully. Penelope hadn't ever known her fiery-haired friend to beg, but beg she did, her anger turned to anguish.
The beast paid her no mind, licking his lips hungrily as he laid his captive down atop the two iron tripods above his fire pit. Penelope could only watch and struggle in her tight ropes as the monster stacked his kindling below his whimpering dish.
Penelope didn't know what to do. Worse, she didn't know how to do it. She knew she needed to save her friend, but the beast could swipe her aside like a fly if she tried.
Think! she screamed to herself. The creature finished piling his twigs and leaves and began layering his heavier logs, slowly building a pyramid of wood. Daphne whimpered, desperately trying to soak the kindling with her tears and drool.
Penelope fell to the floor, distraught, and scathed her knee on a sharp rock. The rock! She grabbed it in her bound hands and started scraping it against her ropes.
But she still needed to delay Daphne's roasting.
"You called me Bronze," she yelled towards the monster, "but I don't know your name."
The creature looked up from the growing pyre curiously. "My name?" Penelope nodded, feigning a smile. He paused before replying, "The little ones call me Polyphamorous," and continued with his kindling.
He pauses to speak, Penelope realised. Any time I can buy for my friend. She wriggled her arms hoping for the ropes to snap. No luck. She continued cutting. "Why do the 'little ones' help you take captives?"
Polyphamorous paused again. "We have a... a deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"They send me gold, wine and sacrifices. I do not take the little ones."
Penelope felt her wrists snap free. She'd done it! But her freedom was still far from gained. She rolled her shoulders around, trying to work her elbows free. "Why do you need gold and wine?"
He paused to consider his response. "The gold is to win my Beloved. The wine is to... stop my sadness. The little ones say they help me find my Beloved. But they do not. They lie."
His 'Beloved' again. "Who is she?"
The monsters sniffed the stale air inside the cave. "The sun has the moon. The land has the sea. The hot days have cold nights. But I was not born with another. I was born alone."
He's looking for his partner, Penelope realised. She suddenly felt sad for the creature. His Beloved may not even exist. The teenage pirate girls might be trying to fool him for their own self-preservation or some cruel jest at the monster's expense. Still, Penelope could use it to her advantage like the pirates probably were. "Does it make you sad?"
"Yes," Polyphamorous replied as he was about to strike his flints.
"Perhaps you should have some wine."
He stayed his flint-filled hands as Daphne watched her death creep closer with wide-eyes. "Wine?"
"Good idea!" Penelope agreed. "Talking about your Beloved makes you sad. You should have some wine." She felt the rope around her elbows slip loose. Her arms were free and escape was within reach.
Polyphamorous sniffed the air and a tear rolled down his cheek. "Yes," he agreed. Leaving his flints by the fire pit, the creature stood and took a few of his paces to his stack of amphorae. Daphne, panting into her gag, had never thanked the goddesses so much before (indeed, it would be the first).
He picked one up. It was empty so he threw it aside and let it explode into a thousand jagged shards. The next he picked was full to the brim with dark red wine, almost the colour of blood. He upended it over his open mouth and let the contents rush down his gullet. "Beloved?" he asked the empty vase. "Lies!" he accused, hurling it through the mouth of the cave. He lifted another to his mouth and guzzled it down too. And another. He paused to burp before downing a fourth and the fifth went down with barely a breath intermission.
Polyphamorous yawned. He blinked his beady close-set eyes and stared at the charred cave wall. His head tilted to the left, his body to the right, then he staggered and fell backwards, landing with a deep thud against the cave floor. He was blind drunk.
Quickly as she could, Penelope untied the knots around her legs. She cut the ropes she couldn't manage.
"Hmmmhmmph..." Daphne moaned with exhaustion. Twin beads of sweat had gathered on the tips of her nipples, quivering precariously. Penelope lifted her friend off the spit and untied her from the branch.
"Grab your armour and run."
And run they did. They ran until their legs were burning. Daphne was too weak to run by herself so Penelope helped to carry her. They came upon a shallow stream with clear water where they drank and replenished after their brush with death. Penelope strapped herself into her armour and helped Daphne slip hers on while the redhead cupped the water to her mouth.
They decided to head east back to the shore where they'd landed. Perhaps they'd be able to steal a rowboat and find their way back to The Mermaid's Revenge and her crew. The pirates, should they be caught by surprise without time to invoke their magic, would be treated with vengeance in mind. But the problem was the distance. Polyphamorous' stride was easily six times that of a person and he'd made the journey without hassle. It took Penelope and Daphne much longer in comparison.
The exact moment they caught the smell of the salty ocean breeze, a roar rumbled through the trees. Polyphamorous had awoken to an empty cave, his meals having escaped during his drunken stupor. They ran with renewed fear while the thuds of the beast's hasty footsteps filled the silence of the forest.
The two broke through the tree line and were greeted by the sight of the opal-blue sea. There were no pirates, but also no sign of their rowboats. Polyphamorous roared again in the distance, closer than before and gaining on them fast.
They ran some more, turning and sprinting south across the sand. The roars followed them, and the sky filled with birds who joined in the retreat from the beast. Deer raced through the nearby trees, darting between them, fleeing in the opposite direction to the thunderous roars.
Penelope and her sister-in-arms were running as fast as their exhausted legs could carry them when the captain looked over her shoulder just in time to see Polyphamorous literally break through the trees, sending them roots and all into the surf. He sniffed the air, found their tracks in the sand and roared again, mightier and with more fury than ever. He charged towards them.
They kept running. The shoreline curved into a crag and the fine sand turned into small pebbles smoothed by the tides. Penelope had a desperate hope she could lose the beast in the maze of cliffs and stacks. But he's followed us this far, she tried not to consider.
The craggy terrain opened up again into a flat beach and Penelope and Daphne stayed with it. A rowboat was all they needed. It was doubtful the creature could swim well with his stumpy legs and stocky arms. The goddesses designed him for land, not sea. They were no more than a hundred paces from the crag when Polyphamorous' hideously disproportioned face showed itself from within. His beady little close-set eyes glared at his former captives and he bared his blunted teeth. He chased after the Greeks.
They spotted a rowboat ahead, protected by only three teenage pirates. Penelope and Daphne might have a chance. But the teenagers were tall for their age. Their hair was loose and blowing in the easterly winds, a dark shade of brown, where the pirate's wore their hair in dreadlocks. And their leathern rags for clothes were instead boiled leather. "Ellisia!" Penelope called out.
"Scylla!" the Matriarch of the Thunderbolt replied before her eyes fell on the creature. "What in Hera's name is that?!"
"Run!" Penelope warned. Polyphamorous was sixty paces and closing.
"Captain!" yelled Daphne, no longer by her captain's side. Penelope turned. Her friend had fallen, exhausted or tripped up, sprawled in the golden sand. Forty paces.
Just then, a great whoosh filled Penelope's ears. She thought it might have been a bird, but the giant black shadow coming from the ocean was of a net, not a bird.
It snagged on the beast's head, enveloping it and entangling around his shoulder. The Mermaid's Revenge, moored beside one of the crags, launched another heavy net from the mermaid's sling. It flew lower and pinned Polyphamorous' hand against the top of his leg. The creature's sprint became a desperate hop. The third net caught his wide feet and hobbled him like a bola. He tripped and tumbled, sliding across the sand, and came to a slow stop less than a two paces from where Daphne was lying, bewildered and exhausted. She sighed in relief before passing out. Polyphamorous groaned in defeat before doing the same.
Penelope rushed to drag Daphne a safer distance away. Ellisia and her two sisters-in-arms joined them. "We got the sling working," the Matriarch informed Penelope with a grin. "Well, I say we. It was Serena did most the work."
Aboard the ship's forecastle stood Serena, golden hair blowing softly in the wind. Penelope waved her hand in thanks. It was returned humbly. Good thing I didn't keep my hostage tied up, Penelope thought. Daphne should be glad, when she regains consciousness.
Ellisia continued, provocatively kicking sand towards the creature's face. "What is it?"
"The pirates named him Polyphamorous," Penelope replied sadly. "He was just looking for a mate." The memory of the Sirens' song played in the back of her mind. They thought their world would never fall; but like all beasts, we tamed them all. Not quite all, it seemed. There was one less beast, but so many more monsters yet to tame.
Continued in Chapter 22
A Tale of Ties and Binds - Chapter 21
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