Becoming Atropos:

"I..." I stammered and then spied the Count St. Germain. "...it is his doing. He is a cunning one he is."

"Give me the ring and I will return it during the ceremony. It is custom." St. Germain laughed. "Surprise lad!"

"If the fates be kind, we'll speak after this day you and I." I declared and that set the Count into a fit of laughter.

"Aye Vasilios, if the Fates are gentle, we'll speak yet again before the Spring and you depart these shores." St. Germain said with more than a little severity in his voice.

I plucked the ring from my pocket and gave it back to the Count. I was directed to stand in front of a stone altar. The story of the King of Minos and the white bull filled my thoughts. The King stood nearby, and he looked so frail in the waning light. The Archbishop faced away from us as was the custom of the time. He spoke a litany in a mix of Latin and German. The doors opened and I felt her enter. The Count St. Germain led Clotho, now snow clad in white cotton, lace, and a bit of silk, down the aisle towards the altar and me. The Count took her hand and placed it in mine.

"...these two have come together to be joined in the sacred promise of marriage. It is a solemn vow for the two of you to take to heart. What is joined this day may never be sundered." The Archbishop intoned and he wasn't reading for his holy book. Instead he stood facing us and I felt a power filling the air. When he moved towards us there was a crackling of power and the smell of the oncoming storm. "The rings shall be brought forth." The Old Man ordered, and the Count offered a bowl that he sprinkled three separate liquids within. The Archbishop or whatever was inside of him touched the metal vessel and the smell of ozone grew stronger still as if lightning had struck nearby. "Do the two of you vow to cleave one to the other, honor the love within your hearts, and vow to keep this trust unsullied to your last breath?"

"I do." We said in one voice.

"These rings are a sign not just for you but for all that see them of your unwavering and undying bond of love and fidelity." He intoned as he took out my ring. I gasped in surprise as did the King. The diamond was no more, in its stead was a gleaming perfect ruby set in a dark silver band. Clotho took the ring and placed it on my finger.

"I do so vow." She said in a strong steady voice. A crack of thunder echoed her words. The Archbishop handed me her ring which I had never seen before. It too was a dark silver band and was set with three identical rubies of equal quality to the one that was set in my own ring. I took it and placed it on her finger.

"I do so vow." I said and the storm broke outside. The pounding rain struck the stain glass window behind the altar and sealed our promise to each other.

"In the presence of his Majesty and those gathered here I name your husband and wife." The Archbishop declared and Clotho grabbed me and pulled me down into a blistering kiss. "Strange weather we are having today." The old man said his voice reduced somehow and his demeanor back to normal.

"Well husband, shall we..." she began with a hungry look in her eyes but the King interrupted her.

"I would have words with you," the King declared. "Forgive me young man," he said coughing and covering his mouth. When he pulled back his hand there were flecks of dark blood on his flesh. "Yes, I am quite ill. I am not dying, well not yet anyway, I have taken counsel with St. Germain and I agree with him. My sword quickly!" He demanded. "I know this may all feel crazy, but it is for the best." He said looking beyond me to Clotho. "I have protected her as long as I could. Now it is up to you. Your captain is not here by chance. His ship lies moored and ready to leave this very night. Maybe it is that damned comet, maybe just back luck, but agents of Rome have infiltrated my guests tonight."

"Your Majesty!" Mr. Gillette said holding a sheathed weapon in his arms.

"Excellent as always Gillette! Now, kneel and accept the last official act I may bestow this evening. Bear witness all of you! Harken unto me and observe!" He ordered as I knelt. "It is custom that when a worthy young man of noble blood goes into battle, he may be given the title of knight. I rekindle that honor for you and for my kingdom." He stated his face a mask of strain as he brought the sword out of its sheath and as he touched the gleaming blade to each shoulder, he pronounced me a man of title, of property, and gave me a surname. Sir Vasilios Amaranthus, knight of the realm, and Viscount of Grave's End. All land and titles to be settled unto you and your heirs." The rest was lost in a severe fit of coughing and I felt a soft spray of blood on my cheek, the king's blood. "St. Germaine!"

"Majesty!" The Count rushed to the monarch's side, took out a glass vial, and tipped its contents between the king's lips. Instantly the fit ended and the king's breathing settled into a normal pattern once more. "It is time for you to go. I'm sorry. A change of clothes is waiting for you as well as coin and a blade. Go!"

Clotho was at my side and tugging me to my feet. One short kiss and we were fleeing down the hall to the room where the barber had cut my hair and beard.

"Viscount, not bad my love!" Clotho chuckled her eyes wide in panic and fear.

"Why is this happening?" I asked confused and out of my depth. "What the hell?"

"Stop!" A man in a jester's mask demanded. "Stop or be slain!" He ordered. I balled up my fist as he drew a wickedly sharp dirk from his belt. "I said... oof!" He dropped unconscious to the stone floor after my fist smashed into his jaw.

"Well done, take his weapon!" Clotho directed and I recovered the fallen dagger. "Nearly there."

We raced into the room. A pack sat on the bed and two piles of clothing were on either side of it. I closed the door and turned. Clotho was tugging at her dress and I helped her out of it. My hands shook half in fear and to be honest half in lust. She laughed as she stepped out of the dress and removed the rest of her clothing without my help. I stripped down and changed into the more durable garments on the bed.

"I see what the Count meant by a challenging relationship." Clotho jested.

"Find them!" A voice called out from the hall. We hurried to finish dressing. My eyes rarely left the door until Clotho opened the secret door. I backed up into the gap and as the hidden door clicked shut. The door to the hallway slammed open with a loud crash. Clotho led the way.

"We need to reach the dungeon and from there to the sea. Your captain should be waiting for us." Clotho whispered.

The hidden passage could have passed for any other in the palace. It possessed the same wooden paneling and was well lit by cleverly angled windows that showed the intermittent flashes of lightning from the storm outside. Clotho was dressed in men's garb and even had a deep oilskin hood to obscure her features once we were outside the palace. This escape was exceedingly well planned for a supposed sneak attack. Or was it? Too many questions I snapped and buried them all. Time enough if we won through against possible inquisitor agents. They couldn't have been after me. I had been to Rome six times in the last ten years. If they had been watching me, they could have killed me before tonight. It must be Clotho. She was their target. My fingers tightened on the hilt of the dagger. They would not have her!

A stair led down to the storage area and the one after that to the dungeon. Loud voices informed us that they must know of the secret passage and a way out beneath the palace. I walked next to her now and the normally confident woman was clearly anything but that. We were nearing the end of the passage and I could see flickering lights under the hidden door. I placed a hand on Clotho's shoulder, and we paused while I pondered what to do. Her expression told me that the only way out was through that door. I leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

"We wait."

I sat and leaned against the wall. My eyes on the door. As the minutes ticked by it was clear that the brilliance spilling from under the door had faded. I guessed that only a single lantern or torch lit the space beyond now. I got to my feet and crept to the door and listened. No one spoke. I sniffed the air and there was the scent of burning wax but I detected no one standing there. I returned to her and told her what I believed we would find.

"Where do we go beyond the door?" I asked and she described the way to the dungeon and where the entrance to catacombs were. That was all I required. I returned to the hidden door and slid it slowly open. A small wooden shelf nearby held a single burning candle on a metal stand. I looked and sniffed to make sure the way was free of guards or inquisitors. We slipped into the storage area and I knew where we were. I had worked down here often. Her instructions were clearer now that I had clear references. "We go." I whispered.

We stalked down towards the steps and I caught the unmistable scent of sweat and fear. Two hooded men stood on either side of the door that led down to the dungeons. I paused and knew that if they gave a cry of alarm who knew how many foes, we'd have upon us. I cursed that I had only one knife. I might have thrown it and silenced one guard but not two. I pressed my lips against Clotho's ear.

"Get ready to run. This will likely go poorly but I see no other option." I whispered as softly as I could. She nodded and readied for a sprint to the door.

I kept the dagger close so that the candlelight didn't glint off its metal. I held my breath and surged forward. I plunged the dagger into the chest of the closest guard and attempted a grabble with the other. I heard the survivor inhale so that he could scream, and I smashed my fist into his diaphragm. He gasped and choked giving me the chance to clamp a hand over his mouth. I plucked the dagger from the corpse of the first guard and drove it beneath the chin of the second and the point pierced his brain. He convulsed as he died. I opened the door and rolled the corpses down the steps to conceal them the best I could. However, there was nothing I could do to hide the blood and urine stains on the floor in front of the door.

The bodies tumbled down the steps and we followed as quietly as we could. Clotho closed the door and I waited with bloody dagger in my fist for any more foes. None came and that was alarming. If they knew our escape plan and barred the door here with guards where were they? Did they search for us above and left only two to stand watch? That is idiocy! We were in grave peril and neither King or Archbishop would hinder the wroth of Rome.

"Follow and stay low. When they attack, I will stand tall and strike high," I warned her.

"It is a pity, our wedding night should have been an epic thing," Clotho mused bravely.

"Indeed. Worthy or song and poetry." I added as we reached the bottom of the steps and the dungeon proper.

The stench was overwhelming. The blend of human decay and bodily fluids was nauseating. How did anyone stand it down here? I stood tall and skulked the best I could down the torch lit passage. Cells and oubliettes lined either wall. None of the prisoners raised a voice or seemed to take any notice of us. That was odd. Or were they so beaten down that they had surrendered to their fate long ago? The space ended and marking the entrance to the catacombs and our way out the huge water barrel. It was the only source of life-giving fluid in this hell hole. I passed the gore covered dagger to Clotho. I wrapped my arms around the wooden sides of the barrel and lifted. The water sloshed around and as I turned to move it away from the trapdoor they sprang. A dozen or so lanterns were revealed as their owners lifted the shutters and bathed the dungeon in pale radiance. I roared as I stood and hurled the barrel, water and all, at them. One of the foolish among them tried to leap over the moving barrel he was so eager to be the one to slay me. He toppled forward and his weapon skittered out of his grasp. I plucked it from the floor and held it between me and the inquisitors. The chief inquisitor was a swarthy skinned man that looked more skeleton than man. He was thin and wiry with a fiendish grin on his lips. He smiled as he raised his flintlock pistol.

"Well damn," I cursed. "I tried my Lady."

The sound of the explosion was deafening in the close confines of the dungeon. The metal ball smashed into the side of the grinning inquisitor killing his instantly. The deadly crossfire from the cells on either side cut the remaining inquisitors down seconds later. Mr. Gillette stood up from his place of concealment and wrinkled his nose as he stepped from the prison cell. He kicked the corpse of the chief inquisitor and frowned.

"We weren't here, and neither were you. Get down your rabbit hole and pray you don't drown." Gillette ordered. "I have a mess to clean up down here. Best of luck at whatever lies down there. Whether salvation or suicide we shan't speak again. Fare thee well Vasilios... Clotho."

"Long life Mr. Gillette." I offered back.

I wrestled the trap door open as the bodies of the inquisitors were dropped into the oubliettes to be forgotten and become yet another mystery surrounding the palace. I took two of the inquisitor's shuttered lanterns and we proceeded. Mr. Gillette or one of his men closed the trap door and settle the barrel back into place. We too faded into history if ever at all to be recalled by learned men or conspirators centuries later.

The catacombs dated back to the time of the Black Death. It struck Europe like a scythe and people both noble and common born perished in the hundreds of thousands. Mass burials like this were not unknown. The dead nearly outnumbered the living or so it felt in those days. Thousand of niches were carved into the rock to house the corpses and where houses had been set alight to attempt to halt the spread of the disease what was left over was brought here. The lucky had a space to themselves but more often the bones were sorted and stacked as high as they were able. So we passed towering piles of skulls, ribs, arm and leg bones.

"How fare we navigator?" Clotho said with her old confidence returned.

"Straight and true." I replied. "Why did they hunt you?"

"Fear." She snarled in the shadowy light. "Men have always feared women they couldn't control. From the beginning of the Jewish holy book there were stories of Lilith. She was Adam's first wife. She like Adam had been created by their god in his image. Side by side and equal they were meant to dwell."

"So, what happened?" I asked and Clotho laughed.

"She wanted to be astride him during his husbandly duty." She snapped giddily.

"Wait! You are telling me that all that fuss was over something that silly." I gasped in shock.

"Good!" Clotho noted and then continued. "Men are all about power. The power to dominate others. Women have always been the target of man's inherent weakness. The fear of chaos and it has driven them to such acts of desperation and horror."

"So, let me get this straight and tell me if I get this wrong." I said and paused for a moment to contemplate all she had said. "You want to be on top when we make love?"

"Absolutely!" She snorted and gripped my hand. "It is the least you can do."

"If that will make you happy then I guess I'll have to sacrifice so much to..." I ranted as she laughed. "When you are ready you will tell me. Until then, I'll gleefully walk beside you."

"Damn that St. Germain," she cursed softly. "He was right again."

"Again?"

We pierced the rear of the sea cave a few minutes after midnight. We could see the fireworks explode above the city, presumably over the palace. A rowboat awaited us and sleeping just inside the cave were two drunken sailors. I knew them by sight as members of my crew. I shook them awake and greeted them by name. They reluctantly woke and agreed to take us back to the ship. Clotho and I pulled up our oilskin hoods to keep the worst of the steady rain off us. The other two weren't so lucky. Once we were aboard, we prepped to depart and leave London behind us. Clotho and I were given one of the few cabins above decks. She slept while I helped chart the fastest course out of these waters. That done I was ordered to what the captain called the marriage bed.

Clotho was still beneath the covers and clearly anxious. I was nervous and it showed. I undressed and slid beneath the cool blankets. With a gentle touch I lay back and she lay atop me. The gentle rocking of the ship was new for her but like a homecoming for me.

"I never realized how handsome you are." She purred in my ear. "If you were a girl, you'd have men breaking down your bedroom door to bed you. I am glad you aren't a woman. It would deprive me of so much pleasure in so many ways my husband."

"I am equally happy to be who I am." I said and for the first time in my life that was true.

The kiss was soft as the wingbeat of the smallest insect but ignited the hunger within both of us. I closed my eyes as it deepened from a wildfire to volcanic. The fear we had faced kindled our passion as our hands roamed over each other. I kissed her neck as my hands cupped her breasts and she ground against my hardness. Her fierceness was infectious. I pulled her up and suckled her breasts which she held for me.

"I want to scream but not alert the crew." She laughed softly.

"Inevitable." I gasped. "Trust me."

Clotho gasped as a sudden shift sent her downward nearly impaling her. My erection barely missed her, and she realized the danger she was in. I had made love on a moving vessel before. I had snuck a girl on board for a short jaunt between Cairo and Athens. Those were very pleasant days indeed. Clotho and I were sweaty and sliding with less control as the waves lifted and dropped the ship. I took her by the hips as the ship undulated, I waited.

"Wait." She squirmed. "Hold on." I watched her intently. "Oh hell." She cursed as she felt the upswell and I let go. "DAMN!" Clotho howled as my erection transfixed her to her core.

I would remember that expression on her face for many years to follow. It was a blend of betrayal and raw pleasure. The ship did most of the work for her as she lay atop me and clung as we made love. I winced when her nails dug into my flesh as she sought purchase when a particularly powerful wave could be felt. Her body betrayed her as her hips slammed down as I thrust upward, and her first climax struck her amid ship. I held her close but relentlessly remained inside of her until the first light of dawn.

"Surely a child was begotten this night." I whispered.

"So eager for an heir Sir Vasilios?" Clotho asked.

"Aye, I want to raise my child as I was unable to be raised by mother or father myself. Is that so wrong?" I asked and she kissed my cheek.

"No, my husband, now let us sleep for the night was long." Clotho replied closing her eyes.

The sea rocked us to slumber and I slept soundly. I split my time on the ship between navigating and husbandly duties. The weather, while lively, was mild for this time of year. We reached the coast of Greece in good time and departed so that I could deliver Clotho to her family and uncover the answers to many questions. The two remaining relations of Clotho were the matronly Lachesis, and the wizened Atropos. I had met Atropos before, and it was she that had given me the letter to deliver to young Clotho.

"You have done your service and more, so I see," the wrinkled Atropos declared with a smile. "You have my eternal thanks."

"We have tidings," Clotho began but I would swear the other two were already aware of our marital standing for they shared a look and a smile between them.

"Speak it so that it should be plainly understood Clotho." Lachesis mused as she poured tea that had been brewing on her stove.