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The κένταυρος’ face is transformed, transfixed – and even you are surprised at how melodious your voice is, sliding effortlessly even to the highest notes. Its anger and frustration are simply forgotten, as its bloodshot eyes lock onto your figure in wonder. By pure happenstance, the rolling clouds above that had been temporarily interposing themselves between the hilltop and the chariot of Helios suddenly move aside – you are bathed in a column of sunlight that momentarily links you to the heavens. You instantly adapt to this, gracefully raising your arms in a salute to the sky, as you conclude your stanza. The κένταυρος moves – but to your surprise, it adopts a modified kneeling stance – its forelegs curled into the earth, it lowers its face, seemingly in a trance.
“God-dess, forgive me…” its harsh voice grates. Clearly, it has mistaken you for a divinity of some kind – your height and appearance, your musical ability and your sudden presence contributing to the effect. You are only too happy to reinforce his mistaken conclusion.
“Rise, son of Ixion – name thyself! Fear not this happenstance meeting between us. What brings you to the lands of Hippomedon?” You maintain a genial air as you address him, even as you catch Pantaleon’s hulking form starting to rise out from behind a small shrub. With a tiny gesture, you motion him to hide once move, and thanks be to the gods of Olympus, he immediately does so without a sound.
“I am Labostas, son of Anchinichus, son of Kyllaros, who was slain by Theseus.” He refuses to meet your gaze, keeping his eyes – the same hue of brown as his horse hair, you notice – firmly planted on your sandaled feet. It seems that even the Κενταυροι will pay appropriate respects to a divinity, if confronted with one. You wait for further discourse, but none comes.
“It gladdens my heart to see that you honor the old ways, Labostas, son of Anchinichus – but I see you have been mistreating the flocks of Hippomedon, which are under my stewardship. Your presence in these lands will no longer be tolerated.” You allow hardness to enter your voice, trying for all your might to sound like your mother scolding Νίκων for breaking an amphora. At this, Labastos eye’s shift wildly from side to side – you sense that he is ready to flee outright rather than risk a curse.
>more coming
