Alcander's Fantastic Voyages Part 5

The Order of Heracles seeks to control Greece.

This is madness.

I knew, of course. But I knew the same way that most know that a life of drinking, gambling, and women will destroy a man. It's easy to say, it's easy to know, but it is quite another thing to find oneself lying face down in the gutter with a burning need to see a cleric and smelling of vomit and wine.

Heracles showed me the truth that time, and he shows me it now.

The cleric made it clear. He tells me that there are more things that he can tell me, things that I need to know. But too many Heracletians have proven themselves to have forgotten the true path, so he must first be certain of me.

The Heracletians seek to control Greece.

This is no longer simply an idea. There are many city-states that oppose them, of course, and so far the order has tried to deal with them by coercion and promises. But there are still hold outs.

This time, they've sent an army.

A small army, mind you, but it is a small city-state.

Once again, my legs ache in the service of Heracles. Once again, I have found myself rushing to rouse a populace from their slumber, to prepare to defend themselves from a menace.

I never would have imagined the menace would one day be my own order.

I had to go the long way around, avoiding the main roads. The Heracletians have gained such power that only a Heracletian can travel openly. The cleric gave me a plain lion skin to wear, and a plain club. It is not my own, but at least it is not the gem-encrusted shit my superiors gave me. So long as I avoided the army, none questioned me. And where they did, I told them plainly that I was a Knight of Heracles, and that I was sent on a mission by the god himself. Because, damn it, it is still the truth. I will not call myself by what I am simply because it has been spoiled by imbeciles who have forgotten the face of their god.

Even taking back roads, a man on foot travels far faster than an army, even a small one. I reached the city ahead of the army.

I found the city in the midst of preperation, but they thought they had months yet before the battle would be joined. They know better now.

As I sit here, they prepare furiously, knowing that they may die when the battle comes. They are resigned to their death, if it must be, rather than bowing before these false Heracletians.

They may worship other gods, but never have I seen such valor, not even among my fellow knights. They prepare to fight and die, knowing that they die for the right.

Soon, it will be known that I stand against the Heracletion Order, because I must. The priest advised me to warn the city and be away, but I cannot.

It will be my great honor to die here among these brave souls.

Even if it means fighting my own order.