Tomb of Atlantis Read Free

his injury. As blood began to flow from his neck, Lempithius grabbed his shoulders and unceremoniously shoved him overboard.
    Lempithius turned to his now-frightened first officer. In a low deliberate voice, he growled, “More speed, now, and prepare the men to board.”
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    Sophocles watched as the barrels of oil floated toward Lempithius’ ship. He could see the sheen from the oil slick as the barrels continued to leak their contents. Closer in, he watched the last of his food and water slowly disappearing below the surface. A wave of fear broke over him as he realized this act marked the almost certain death of his crew. Without food or water, they would all certainly perish.
    “Better to die of hunger and thirst as free men, than to die from torture as captives,” he reasoned quietly to himself.
    With his finest archers standing at the stern of the ship, he stood with them and readied his orders.
    “On my signal, you will shoot those barrels. All your practice, all your experience was for these next few minutes. You must succeed. We are all counting on your accuracy,” Sophocles announced.
    With a simple nod of their heads, the archers acknowledged their orders and turned to face their destiny.
    Sophocles watched the debris field float ever closer to Lempithius’ ship. The first of three barrels went wide, missing the path of the ship by a hundred feet. Nervously, he watched two more barrels slip past the ship on the opposite side. Sophocles looked on and saw Lempithius’ crew lining the deck, preparing for battle. The arrows had ceased just moments before and now they stood ready with kni ves, clubs, and spears.
    Sophocles’ plan had worked. Without archers, Lempithius’ men were at a disadvantage. When they attacked, they would be overrun by greater weaponry. Sophocles breathed a small sigh of relief. His chances for survival had just dramatically increased.
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    Lempithius stood proudly at the bow of his ship and watched the debris float by. He thought about snaring a few of the barrels as they passed, but thought better of it, realizing they would only slow him down. He noted the open barrels and the oil that seeped out of them, mocking futility of Sophocles’ actions. He noticed the oil as it clung to the hull of his ship and the mess it caused angered him.
    “Fool, pouring his oil into the sea so I can’t have it… making a foul mess of my ship. Why would I want his silly oil anyway? He must know I have my own. He must realize I don’t need his stupid oil. He must…”
     
    Lempithius cut himself off in mid-sentence, the reality of his own words finally registering in his mind.
    “No!” he yelled out at the top of his lungs. “I am the great Lempithius. You cannot do this to me.”
    --- --- --- ---
    “Shoot!” Sophocles ordered loudly. “Shoot now!”
    The six archers release their flaming arrows into the sky. For a moment, all stood motionless and watched the streaming arc of the arrows as they converged on their target. The tiny flames had reached their apex and were now descending. Sophocles could feel his heart pounding through his toga. The intensity of his focus caused his eyes to sear, and he blinked hard to clear the pain.
    The first two arrows missed their mark, immediately extinguished as they plunged into the sea. A second later, three more missed their targets, suffering the same fate as the first two. The sixth arrow caught an air current and streamed long. Flying over the barrels, it flew headlong into Lempithius’ men. Instantly, screams erupted as it pierced one man and embedded in another.
    While the arrows were still in flight, Sophocles ordered the archers to continue their barrage. Two more sets of arrows were underway. With the first round of arrows used to gage distance, the second and third rounds were now far more accurate. Sophocles watched as two arrows struck one barrel floating just in front of Lempithius’ ship.
    The