SYNOPSIS
ELTANIN.. Where fortune has a price.
A gambling time bomb has replaced his soul.
A punishing tale of resurrection revelation and revenge; he must learn to fight, for freedom.
Antonio must resolve his vices, in my novel ELTANIN, with nothing left to lose, he embarks on a suicide mission that sees him fighting for his life against an ocean attacker.
Plutarch, AD 46 - 120, was a Greek historian who referred to a place called the Fortunate Isles several times in his writings. Described as a blissful paradise for heroes and other favoured mortals. However, this dreamland was not without its problems, it was a place greatly disturbed by the putrefying bodies of beasts thrown up by the sea
Antonio awakens to find a power stronger than fate has lead him home to rule over the underwater kingdom of Eltanin. Built by his father. (The God Poseidon) from precious stones, this strange kingdom populated by mer-people, small armoured Dragons and mysterious plant life is Antonio’s idea of paradise.
Advised by the cheerful priest and the capricious red haired oracle he will accept a celestial connection and a glimpse into the future.
The sudden capture of his brother Hector by the evil emperor Acrab of the rival city Rastaban, sees the beginning of an epic adventure, but, ironically, it is only when he looses his sight that he begins to see the big picture and is able to lead his warriors in a ferocious battle against the shark men of Rastaban, whilst attempting to decode the ancient script of the Onyx Tablets.
Chapter One TRAUMA
The visions had started again, peeling rancid skin, hacking iron swords; it made him crazy. He winced and rattled his head, trying to lose them. Hectors’ councillor had seemed convinced that these pictures were trauma- related, due to his time in the army, but, although he could see her point, she seemed to ignore the fact that he could remember having the same nightmare years before, he even thought of joining the forces.
The aircraft buzzed noisily high above the three continents speckled with olive trees; Shaped by the ancient collision of the northward moving African-Arabian continent, a vast system of mountains now replaced what was once a rich wooded region. After thousands of years of human habitation, it was altered beyond recognition. Hector relaxed his thick-set neck back into the chair. He conducted the necessary adjustment with the flick of a switch from his strong working mans fingers. Suddenly, he was gliding with ease; just as his father had taught him. He took the cigar from his shirt pocket and smelt its maturity. The giddy scent of fuel and liquor filled his nostrils as he inhaled . His lips puckered before he sat back and imagined blasting off, straight up through the atmosphere and into the glittering blackness of space - the ultimate extreme experience.
“Don’t spend your whole life looking for what’s in front of your eyes.” he would say to himself.
His thoughts move quickly back to the security of that of his dedicated wife Phoebe and his mischievous six year old daughter Anne. It was just occasionally that he allowed himself to imagine what a single life would feel like; but as sure as a clock ticks he would get that expected jolt of clarity confirming his rightful place with his family.
‘Freedom stems from valour’, was his motto, taken from his days serving in the Hellenic army. Not the Air force as his father would have liked. Well known for his fearlessness among the HAGS, he knew he had made the right choice. The motto was the blight of his wife’s life; she often warned him that if he did not mellow he would not make it to his 30th birthday.
“The unknown is the only way to go places in this life!” He would tell her.
“Even if the next road leads you to your own grave?' she would argue, before fixing her hands stubbornly on her voluptuous hips, nevertheless, he would always forgive her, for such insecurity born from fear, proved to him the strength of her love.
Since he had left the army, he had taken a job, fixing light aircraft, enabling him to enjoy taking them out for test flights, and he felt grateful. He knew so many men, who after they had left the forces had to do jobs that they hated, just to earn a crust to feed their families.
How the resentment contorted their faces, deep worry lines from hiding the truth, silent words and steely eyes, he had seen many cruel things in his relatively short life, but he could almost smell the resentment that reeked from these, dead men walking.
Antonio awoke with a start; an alarming crashing noise had disturbed his state of unconsciousness. He blearily stared out into the darkness, dismayed but not surprised to see nothing, but the waves. It was a warm clear Mediterranean evening and the sea like a beggar, lapped around the rocks near his feet, spraying its salty aroma into the air. The moon watched over the earth with completeness and was un-disturbed by his groan of anguish. Reeling like a slot machine, he somehow managed to unwind the bottle top and take a long gulp before he gasped for a breath, he eyed the dreg of rum in the bottom before he sent it hurtling into the ocean. He could drink all the way through to the morning these days, but it no longer silenced that consistent patronizing chatter that existed purely to ridicule him in every way.
“Your mother must be so proud of you” , “Her only son an alcoholic, gambling, bum; good career choice my boy.” The gutsy tone reminded him, of his grandma's scornful manner. The chatter forced a charge of high voltage anger through his already pumping veins. “Leave me alone. How the hell did you get in here?”
“You let me in, I’m your embarrassment, perspiration, the head-ache that won’t leave, even after a couple of asprin.”
Tears erupted down his cheeks, yet his mangled mind pined, remembering all the mistakes of his past, culminating into the last classic anticlimax. This time it was different, he had nothing left to loose; His flat repossessed, it was all gone... 'I’m out of my mind!' He mumbled his forehead buried in one of his sticky alcoholic palms.
He could not believe it, as he tried to fathom it out. The roulette wheel had proven hypnotic causing his old friend, adrenalin, to punch at his chest, demanding charge of the controls. The eight-month system was finally paying off; it should have been his lucky night!
“Luck, I had that once,” he slurped, as he tried to recall his first real bet, he remembered a poker game he had been talked into by a drinking acquaintance. Smoke, sweat and angst, filled the atmosphere that fateful night, and it proved to be delicious.
“Beginners luck,” the men had cursed as he scooped his winnings from the wooden ring-marked table. If he remembered correctly, it amounted to more than a week’s wages at the time, but he quickly learnt that luck ebbed and flowed like the tide and in the mean time that vagabond called addiction, tiptoed up and stole his soul. He resentfully recalled the day his fiancée Fay, his one and only queen of hearts, had finally moved back to England. After enduring months of broken promises she had finally had enough.
“If only you had put as much effort into our relationship, as you do into those crappy systems.” were her parting words.
He had become a loner and independent man and his future would be an existence of scrimping, lying and endless debt. When he looked at his reflection, all he saw was a fraud.
He could hear those words, the ones that always haunted him from the lips of his Nana, teacher, and later his boss. “Do as I say not as I do!”
He stretched his mind back even further. Racing bugs for pennies in his school playground, with fat boy-Bogey. That nasty fuck always won the money; usually buy a thick soul meeting the opposition. Antonio fumed with clenched teeth. Circumstances dictated that it was too late for blame. The stars bust his concentration calling like new pennies and he slid off his shoes and socks letting them rest where they fell. Then he slid from the rock himself, his feet meeting the comfort of the sand, and numb with alcohol he made his way into the tepid depth of anonymity.
A haunting shriek, echoed in the blackness while Antonio’s body turned giddy with the depth of his shock. Something had a hold of him and his heart began to throb with fear. A ripping pain surged through his fleshy tissue as he desperately gasped for a breath.
However, for all he knew as he was twisted around in the darkness, he may as well have been as a blind man watching a mime show. He kicked, then kicked again., trying to turn back to shore, but a sharp tearing at his calf muscle drew him rapidly backwards, causing him to choke on the acid salt water.
“ Help,” He croaked, “Any one.”
The salt nipped at his eyes forcing him to indicate a dysfunctional blink, and what he saw next he could hardly believe as the sky lit up around him like a swarm of foil-coated locust.
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