War of the Gods: Lost in Time (Beings Within the Myth)

By A. K. Solimov

This book is a historical adventure of three young people who have to dig deep to find their mental resilience and emotional intelligence while sometimes experiencing traumatic events in a space-time continuum. After two friends are swept back into time in Ancient Egypt in the first book, they volunteer to enter another electromagnetic anomaly only to find themselves in Ancient Greece, albeit nine hundred years further on.

Greece in 405 BCE is a war-torn land at the end of almost three decades of civil war. Dom endures the final Peloponnesian battle in Aegospotami with his new friend Yiannos and a fox terrier named Ash. On the other hand, Sebastian labours in Northern Greece at a flour mill.

Back at home in Coroglen, New Zealand, in 2011, the police have temporarily shelved the case of the two missing boys after Sebastian’s grandmother declares that Seb communicates with her and the media publishes her interviews. The case is reopened when Seb’s cousin also disappears three months later. With the help of their long-dead friends from Egypt, will the kids get back home, or is there unfinished business to attend to?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris NZ
• Release date: Jun 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781543495508

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 by A. K. Solimov.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 06/29/2020

www.Xlibris.co.nz

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Argos

Chapter 2 Sparta

Chapter 3 Aotearoa

Chapter 4 Larissa

Chapter 5 Sparta

Chapter 6 SOLAN

Chapter 7 Home

Chapter 8 Xenathon

Chapter 9 Saskia

Chapter 10 Solan

Chapter 11 Reunion

Chapter 12 Solan

Chapter 13 G.o.D.D

Chapter 14 Coromandel

Chapter 15 Olorus

Chapter 16 Strakos

Chapter 17 Limu

Chapter 18 Each man

About the Author

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1100 B.C.E; Greek speaking humans from the North invaded

the Peloponnese. Eurystheus of Mycenae and his people

became the Dorians. These people of ancient Greece received

their mythological name from the son of Hellen, Dorus.

How could they have got it so wrong for all these years? Scientists are dumbfounded as to how they could have miscalculated the Pharaoh Tutankhamun’s age of death. New carbon dating has revealed that the Pharaoh died at the age of fifty-nine and not eighteen as previously confirmed. The Egyptologist Society is busy researching hieroglyphic evidence to back up this amazing newly uncovered fact……. Mystery has always surrounded the tomb and………

Helena and Nebetia exchange shocked expressions while the nasal British twang of a television news reporter continues.

What the hell is going on? John finishes chewing a mouthful of perfectly cooked stir-fry and tries to smile. I do have faith in you Nino. The boys are in Egypt right?

Nebetia shakes her head. They were, but as I said they’ve travelled, through time and space. Seb doesn’t know, I don’t know… They are far away, somewhere in time past. Nebetia stops to focus her psychic sense. I’ve got to be open to Sebastian, he didn’t sound too good last night. She closes her eyes. John aims the remote turning off the television and stokes the fire.

But they’re alive right? Helena’s voice is sharp.

It’s difficult to explain, a bit like death, they’re in another field or plane, not present here, but not dead. They are as alive as you and me. Nebetia raises her hands and places fingers on each temple. "Ahh, I knew it. He’s back; ‘Sebby……..’"

‘Nino….not sure where I am but I have a feeling it’s not New Zealand or 2011, sooo probably won’t be home for dinner tonight…. Can you tell mamma and papà? Love you guys………….’

‘We send you strength of spirit my darling. Nino, mamma and papà love you sooooo much.’

‘Love you too, I’m OK, no sign of Dominic or Ash yet.’

‘Nino…. Nino?’ Sebastian had no idea how long he’d been sitting there on a freezing rock, trying to contact his grandmother, squeezing his eyes shut holding two fingers on each temple. Then suddenly, communication! Despite the chilly air, Seb felt a warm surge of wellbeing envelop his being as he desperately held on to Nino’s loving voice.

Realising that she was not telepathically ‘on-line’ anymore, Seb wiped his tears and shook his head, knowing he had to pull himself together, mentally and emotionally. Surely he had the strength of spirit to see him through what may lie ahead. He stood up stiffly and tottered towards the boulder that was really part of the mountain side, to face whatever lay before him. With a false bravado Seb swung his arms as he walked and forced himself to think about matters at hand; about finding a way down the mountainside before night set in and hypothermia with it. Surely a goat track would lead him down to the foothills below, and maybe a town or village. East, he would go east, his home lay on the east coast, where the sun roused him first light every morning. He paused, exhaling relief. ‘See? No flying guy here, Jeez, Seb calm down, will you?’

A large, flat patchwork of yellow was exposed as the midmorning sun burned off low lying cloud, but as he descended Seb soon lost sight of the lowlands, blocked by the vast forest looming ahead. Down and down he ambled, still dressed in Egyptian attire; white linen kilt and cow leather belt which secured his leather sheath and dagger given him by Pharaoh Tutankhamun and the soft flaxen bag made for him by sweet Ankhesenamun. They bumped on his hip as he walked. The sun started to burn his head and it was a relief to enter this shady forest. Silver Birches, Alders, Larch, Firs and magnificent Elm trees created a cavernous canopy, some of which Sebastian deemed to be ancient, considering their size.

Whistling away while he walked easily through the sparse undergrowth, Sebastian revelled in the visual display of contrasts that surrounded him. Bright sunlight, dappled with dark shadows on lime green, dark greens, silver grey, yellow and tan, rich brown, smooth and rough textures of leaves and tree trunks skirted by leafy berry bushes. ‘A perfect setting for a fairytale.’ He mused. ‘A freakin’ European fairytale…’

He stopped suddenly as it struck him. There were no native New Zealand trees anywhere, nor could he spot a familiar shrub, no kawakawa, kumarahou, horoeka or manuka. No ponga fern trees, or ground ferns, cabbage trees, kauri, rimu, no anything New Zealand. No familiar fantail flitted nor tui did sing. Seb watched the foreign birds flitting about and marched on. ‘This whole mountainside’s been planted with foreign trees, or as I suspected I’m nowhere near New Zealand. These birds are all European.’ Voices ahead caused another sudden stop and he quickly crouched behind an enormous Oak.

You are right Hermes my son. Our people have been fighting amongst themselves for too long. It must not go on.

Athens is becoming too powerful and corrupt, they must be knocked back, don’t you see……..

‘Hermes? This is sick, in a bad way.’

CHAPTER ONE

Argos

Tameda

Tameda.jpg

Sebastian had meant to creep away slowly, unnoticed, but panic had got the better of him. He’d all but fallen down the wooded slopes, crashing painfully through prickly undergrowth, barely dodging trees and low branches by rolling or sliding.

Now certain he wasn’t being pursued, Seb allowed himself a slower pace and tried to breathe deeply. But terror still gripped his gut as he stopped very briefly to grab some berries and drink from the numerous pools and icy mountain streams, nervously listening for sounds of footfall.

Slowly his normally unflappable self-control returned and curiosity emerged as he descended the mountain. The air was warmer down here almost at the foothills, which gave way to the flatlands he’d seen from the heights. Was that blue ocean he’d seen glittering in the distance? Feeling foolish, he now realised they hadn’t even attempted pursuit. Unsuccessfully putting all thoughts of Greek gods behind him, Seb tried to make sense of what he’d seen earlier. ‘Who were they?’

‘They’ were the congregation Sebastian had come across higher up the mountain where the tree line began. Slowly, being careful not to rustle leaves or snap a twig underfoot he’d crept forward. He’d counted twelve in all; some sitting on fallen logs in the clearing, others standing in pairs or alone. Men and women wearing striking white robes and elaborate armour.

The blonde guy who’d zoomed past Sebastian earlier was greeted by the others as ‘Hermes’. Zoomed, as in flew; with winged feet. Hermes stood respectfully still, golden helmet in hand, speaking to a tall, stately old man in long white robes referred to as Zeus. Sebastian, frozen to the spot had no choice but to listen in as they discussed what seemed to be a long standing feud between Ares and Athena, being the reason for the internal wars of Argos. All names of Greek Mythological gods. He couldn’t deny it.

Now afterwards, he recalled Zeus’ deep resonating voice again and again, sending electric chills down his spine. Sparta is being played for a fool. They want peace, it’s Athens that longs for dominion.

Zeus had specifically addressed Athena who’d come and stood respectfully before the god, her long white robe covered by a leather cuirass. A red plume waved from her helmet and she carried a spear and a shield displaying a beautifully engraved owl. With great respect Zeus, then why have the rebel allies been waging war all these years? She loudly denied any wrongdoing while accusing Ares of a myriad of mischievous crimes. Her voice was strong yet feminine and Seb saw her face as she turned to Ares.

You must stop urging those Spartans Ares, you, you godforsaken troublemaker! If the Spartan allies continue this nonsense…… wasting money and lives….you’re delaying the development of human democracy …. I will be forced to take off your head and feed it to Titan Epimetheus. You see sense in that?

Ares calmly raised his thick grey eyebrows over hooded lids and smirked to increase Athena’s irritation. How very democratic of you. I’ll get a new head then, if you could even beat me in a sword fight.

As Athena let fly a vehement rebuttal, Sebastian in a stunned stupor had leant out from behind the birch tree and peered through undergrowth. Ares also wore a cuirass over a short white tunic. Bronze greaves protected his shins and a short sword hung on his hip. Snow-white hair peeked out from under Ares’ war helmet and his shield was similar to Athena’s except it had a wolf’s head elaborately engraved on it. He waited politely for Athena to finish her visceral verbal attack, while gripping his sword tightly. Ares then began to reply but Zeus stopped him, raising his hand and sniffing the air, looking around and above suspiciously. I sense human presence nearby. Zeus’ eyes rolled around towards Seb’s hiding place.

That was Sebastian’s cue to split, he tore himself away. He didn’t hear the collective laughter at his clamorous exit or Hermes asking. Shall I go fetch him back Zeus? I passed him earlier!

No, no I caught a glimpse, he’s just a boy, out hunting most likely. He’ll have a story to tell won’t he?

Now Sebastian needed to hear his own voice. Was that really Poseidon sitting on that log? Ares, Athena, Hermes, Zeus, Demeter, Dionysus; all standing there, clear as day, and surely, Apollo and Artemis sitting on another log with Aphrodite and Hera! It felt good speaking out loud as he trudged over another hill. He wasn’t sure about the other three, but then he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

"Human presence? So what does that make them? He stopped on a boulder that cleared the trees to look back up the mountain, feeling sunlight warm on his face. A range of snow topped peaks formed a jagged line, disappearing out of sight. Sebastian realised he was bursting for a pee and stopping at a tree, his legs began to shake. It’s like a dream, nah, make that a friggin’ nightmare! I’m so over this, ahhhh! Can’t we just go home now please, to the 21st century, to peaceful New Zealand?" He croaked and sighed loudly, rubbing his scratched and bruised body. Standing on the edge of a gully he hoarsely shouted out his frustrations, not caring anymore who heard.

The turbulent time of foreign invasion and internal conflict where Sebastian had been deeply, if temporarily immersed, now floated through his mind. He’d just been fully involved in terrible problems of ancient Egypt, but acknowledged just how connected they all had become and how much he missed King Tut, Heray and Ankh. They might all be old or dead now, if this was years in the future.

Future…..Sensing his tiny reserve of resilience and hope, Seb glanced back up the craggy mountain top. I don’t care if you freaks can hear me, after what I’ve been through, nothing can phase me, ‘cause my Nino taught me to cultivate ‘Strength of Spirit’! So what if I was gonna jump off a cliff, doesn’t mean I’m gonna jump off this one. That was a moment of chaos…chaos…chaos! Seb’s echo reminded him of home. He turned and with conviction trudged persistently ever downwards, thoughtfully routing his trail to prevent having to backtrack from ravines, waterfalls and prickle bushes. The sound of running water from a nearby river kept him company, as did melodic songs from all kinds of birds. Eagles hovered in the thermals, their haunting calls urging Seb ever forward. Though his reserve was trickling away and all he wanted to do was collapse and curl up like a ball, he forced himself to drink and rest only for a few minutes.

Alright, when I get to a house, or a village I’ll find out where and what time this is, go from there I guess….. He had ideas. This could be Greece, olden day Greece, or not…. those weirdos on the mountain could be actors for real this time, filming on location, ha, both scenarios are equally ridiculous, know wot I mean? A British accent exuded from Seb’s mouth.

He replied in Californian. Sort of, but….where were the cameras, the sound man, make –up artist and key grip, and can I be an extra? Seb gave a hollow laugh and slapped himself. ‘First I’ll stop answering myself in funny voices. Then find food and shelter, Dominic and Ash.’

The plan made him feel better as he trudged over another wooded hill, ever following the widening river. Smoke rose in the distance. They must have landed around here, I hope… All three of them were flung widely apart