The Embrace of Masa-Mangtow

 

What follows is a fragment of an account of a sea voyage by Hippias of Syracuse. It currently exists only as a Latin translation of an older Greek source. 

I.

Aranthur, one of the various sea-warlords who have run roughshod across the world of late, had carved himself a small kingdom among the lands to the west. These included a chain of islands that lay beyond and south of Gades. Unable to explore these islands himself, he procured the services of the famed explorer and cartographer, Erastus of Argos. Erastus in turn called upon me, Hippias of Syracuse, to undertake the voyage with him. Holding Erastus in high esteem as a mentor, and hungering to venture once more to unknown regions, I accepted his invitation.

Aranthur provided a ship, a trim, twenty-oared penteconter named The Pelican, and a crew, mostly Sherdens and Teresh from the east. We boarded in Crete and the long journey to the chain of unnamed chain of islands was underway. 

Here, I will give more details on the members of the expedition; Erastus, of course, will be well-known to the reader. At this time he was in his sixth decade of life. Though his face was lined and his smartly trimmed hair and beard were white, he was still hale and in full vigor, and his limbs were still firmly thewed. He had seized Aranthur’s offer with both hands, having traveled in the same vicinity in his youth and anxious to revisit it. Further, I believe he feared advancing years might soon end his travelling, and sought one last grand adventure. 

With him he brought his wife, Canace, a voluptuous, dark-haired, olive-skinned beauty from Thebes. She was many years his junior. Canace was not a faithful wife, and openly flaunted her dalliances. She dealt with her husband in a fulsome manner, and for his part Erastus treated his wife with contemptuous indifference. Throughout the voyage she flaunted her body in scanty, diaphanous garments and engaged in improper flirtations with the sailors of the Pelican, causing much unneeded strife and controversy. When I chided her for her behavior, she directed her salacious suggestions toward me. After this, I took to avoiding her company on the voyage. This was difficult in the cramped quarters of the Pelican, and pained me due to my reverence for Erastus.

Of the crew of the Pelican, little is to be said, for they were to have little bearing on the extraordinary events I intend to relate, save for one of their number, A yellow-haired Hyperborean giantess called Sigyn. She was girded for war in the manner of the Sherdens and was a match for any man in both combat and labor. She had been hired by Aranthur as a guard for his harem. (Aranthur thought himself clever and assigned a corps of strong, martial-minded women to guard his wives to avoid cuckoldry.) Hearing of the voyage to the islands Sigyn harangued her employer to send her along, citing her experience in sailing and woodcraft as well as knowledge of exotic lands. Her presence on the Pelican attested to her persuasiveness.

Her stature and warlike demeanor made me think of her an Amazon, and I asked her if she were such. She denied it, while admitting to being flattered by the comparison. My travels at that time had not taken me north of the Vistula, so I asked about her homeland. The name she gave was so outlandish and unintelligible my memory failed to retain it. Among her people, Sigyn claimed, she was not so remarkable, for the women of her tribe were quite robust and expected to bear arms in defense of their communities alongside their men folk. I did not doubt her statement. I am counted as a tall man among my people and Sigyn stood eye to eye with me, and was strongly built. If she is representative of the women beyond Hyperborea, I care not to face the men.

Sigyn proved to be an excellent traveling companion, She was as well-traveled as Erasmus or myself, perhaps more so, and we spent many nights of the voyage huddled amongst the amphorae and bundles in the ship’s hold, exchanging tales of our travels in hushed tones while the crew slept. Some of her tales I would have dismissed as wild fancy, had her accounts of lands I myself had visited not so closely matched my own experience. I found she spoke many languages, but read few. She was quick-witted however, and I was able to teach her the script of the Greeks before we made landfall at our destination.

It was after a long sea voyage fraught by many dangers and strange incidents, any one of which would make a fine tale in and of itself, that we arrived at the Islands we were mandated to survey. We sailed about them for two days, they were all similar, volcanic and covered with thick vegetation. We selected what we deemed the largest, and beached the Pelican in a small cove on the island's eastern shore.  We debarked and scouted out the immediate area, we found a number of dugout canoes, fitted with outriggers. These had been pulled into the thick jungle bordering the beach and covered in palm fronds. They were in good repair, but showed signs of having been in place for some time. We made camp on the beach, and spent the night there. We rested udisturbed save for when some of us were awakened by the distant roaring of some beast.  We roused ourselves at first light. Erastus bid the captain and his crew to wait at the camp while he and I made a brief survey of the island, stating a large party might agitate any islanders unnecessarily. This was agreed to with the exception that Sigyn placed herself among our scouting party, of her own accord and unchallenged by the Captain. This prompted Canace to petulantly demand to come along as well. She had developed a dislike for the barbarian, and missed no opportunity to antagonize her. Erastus and I protested strongly against their going; to bring women on such a strange and perilous trek was anathema to us. Sigyn laughed at us, stating flatly she would explore the island alone if need be. For her part Canace harangued Erastus until he relented. Telling her tersely, 

“Come along and be damned!”

Sigyn and I armed ourselves with sword, shield, cuirass, helm and spear. Erastus eschewed arms and armor save for a dagger, choosing to burden himself only with a satchel containing papyrus, ink and brushes, along with his scientific instruments. He donned a wide brimmed hat of straw and selected a gnarled staff of driftwood to serve as a walking stick. We each carried a water bottle and a pouch with some bread and dried fish. Canace wore only a scant, diaphanous chiton and light sandals, ill-suited for exploration. She also balked at carrying her own provisions, but relented when her protests were ignored. At last we selected a point in the jungle where the undergrowth seemed thinnest and set off. 

It is here my tale begins in earnest.

II.

We made for the distant, smoke-shrouded cone of the volcano that dominated the center of the island, surmising such a trek would give us a good overview of its environment. We struggled for a time, in some places hacking throught dense undergrowth with our swords. Erastus would halt our progress periodically to collect cuttings from various plants, or observe the habits of some small lizard or insect. At one point, as Sigyn and I laboured at clearing a path through a particularly stubborn thicket, Canace let forth a frightful shriek. We whirled about, raising our shields in preparation for combat. Canace was flailing about trying to dislodge a large moth-like insect from her ebon tresses. Erastus went to her aid.

“Hold still, wench, tis but a - Zeus!”

The old scholar drew back his hand, now suddenly dripping crimson. The great, multi-hued moth extricated itself from the hair of Canace and fluttered about clumsily, seeking another victim. Sigyn deployed her spear and crouched, poised for action. After a few heartbeats she thrust out her spear and skewered the moth in mid flutter. Laughing, she raised the impaled insect on high.

“Behold our first triumph!”

It was an odd creature, broad enough to overhang a large man’s outspread palms. It’s wings were covered in strange patterns, and it’s eyes and mouthparts were more like those of a lizard than an insect. Overall it was a broad, grotesque caricature of a normal moth.

“Well done, barbarian!” I mocked, “Epics will be written of this moment!”

The amazonian warrior grinned at me and I went to aid Erastus. He waved me off.

“I am unhurt, the beastly thing took a chunk out of my palm, it bleeds cleanly and his bite was not envenomed. Let us see to my loving wife.”

Canace was huddled on the ground in a heap. When Erastus sought to aid her, she violently pushed him away and howled.

“Touch me not! You doddering old goat! Bringing us all this way so you could  frolick about in this stinking pesthole with your erômenos and this barbarian harpy! I was a fool to come with you!’

“Then return to the ship.” Sigyn stated flatly. “You insisted on coming after you were asked not to, now you complain when the way is difficult as you were told it would be. Go back, you are not suited for such hardship!”

Canace whirled on Sigyn and spat fully upon her, she spittle dribbled down the amazon’s cuirass and I saw her knuckles whiten as she gripped her spear tighter. One golden eybrow arched beneath her helmet, but she showed no further sign of what was no doubt savage fury. Canace vented her pique upon her.

“You dare speak to me thus, barbarian cow? Were we in Thebes I would have you flayed within an inch of your life for such insolence! Uncouth harridan!”

Sigyn’s reply was icily calm.

“And were we not in the presence of your husband, whom my friend Hippias holds in high esteem, I would knock the teeth out of your mincing skull, in Thebes or anywhere else! Cross me again, trollop, and see!”

“Husband! Will you let this savage speak to me thus! Why do you let your wife suffer such humiliation unanswered!”

Erastus looked up from bandaging his wounded hand.

“What’s that? Oh yes. Please refrain from calling my wife a trollop, Sigyn, She has an aversion to hearing the truth spoken aloud.”

Canace’s face blackened with fury.

“You old bastard! I’ll-”

“Enough!” I cried. “We are in the midst of a long journey in dangerous country! To set upon one another in such a manner is folly! All of you, set aside whatever enmity you foster and put your mind to the task at hand! I see light beyond this last thicket, I think a trail may be ahead. Sigyn, take up your sword and help me!” 

Sigyn did as I bid and we resumed our labour. Erastus busied himself moving aside the foliage we felled, while the pouting Canace glared at us all hatefully.
Eventually we found ourselves stepping out of the dense jungle onto a narrow trail.

“Ah, you see!” quoth Erastus. “A footpath! If we follow this inland we will come upon those who built the dugouts we found.”

“One hopes they meet us agreeably.” I offered.

“Posh! Once we demonstrate our peaceful intentions, we will be welcomed warmly! I have sailed these waters before! The islanders hereabouts are friendly enough if dealt with fairly! Let us proceed”

We travelled inland along the trail for sometime. Around midday we heard a great tumult ahead of us, the voices of men calling out in distress, mixed with an inhuman shrieking sound. We ran forward to investigate. We burst into a clearing to find three smallish, dark-haired, sallow-skinned men, clad in brightly dyed loincloths and wielding stone-tipped spears, engaged in battle with a great bipedal bird. And such a bird! Thrice the height of a man it stood on two tree trunk like legs. In lieu of wings it had two short, powerful arms, each tipped with three long talons like sword blades. Perched upon its long neck was a massive head dominated by a great, axe-like beak. The flesh of the head had an unhealthy mottled look and it’s dead milk-white eyes rolled about in apparent blindness.  It’s body was festooned with blood-red feathers. Like the moth that had assaulted Erastus, the great bird seemed altered from what was natural. The islanders contending with it were faring poorly, for even as we entered the clearing one was disemboweled before our eyes by a kick from the thing’s massive taloned foot, while another had his spear snapped in twain by the razor beak.

I brought up my spear and shield and charged at the bird, for the men of Syracuse never shy away from battle. Sigyn charged alongside me, and we linked our shields to form a miniature phalanx. The bird was brave, and did not fear men. It in turn charged at us and smashed headlong into our tiny shield wall. The blow nearly upended us, but the gods willed that we remained upright. We stabbed at it, but it seemed its axe-beak and spear-claws were everywhere, brushing aside our spear points and threatening to snatch our weapons from our grip. We suffered many hurts, but our bronze armor turned aside the birds' deadliest blows. Suddenly the mighty bird leapt, springing high in the air as though to take flight, and dropped down fully upon our shields. We were crushed to the ground, pinned beneath the full weight of the creature and unable to wield our spears. It’s huge beak rained blows upon our shields like a blacksmith’s hammer. Sigyn and I seemed to be of one mind, for without coordination we let go our spears and drew swords, thrusting at the birds feet. At last our blows hurt it enough that it leapt away. No sooner had the bird’s weight been lifted from us, than the amazon was on her feet. Casting aside her shield she ran at full speed toward the bird. Dodging its slashing claws she half leapt, half climbed upon the titan’s back and began hacking at its feathered neck with her sword. The bird shrieked like a damned soul and sought to dislodge it’s tormentor. This distraction provided me with an opening, and once more I took spear in hand and charged, driving my weapon deep into the bird's massive trunk. My spear must have found it’s mighty heart for it convulsed, then lay down, giving up the ghost.

The battle ended, Sigyn and I rested against the carcass of our vanquished foe, quenching our parched throats with draughts from our water bottles. Erastus spoke to the astonished Islanders, trying a variety of dialects he thought they might understand. With the fourth or fifth tongue he tried they showed comprehension and began to speak with the old man copiously, if somewhat guardedly. after they had finished Erastus related to us what had been said.

“These men live in a village nearby, they were about hunting when the great bird set upon them. Their chieftain, a man named Datu,  is known to me of old. Come!”

“Should we not go back and collect the men of the Pelican first?” I asked.

“Nay! Those uncouth louts would only upset these people and cause unneeded difficulty! We four are too many! Follow! Do not act unless it is on my word!”

Having spoken, Erastus turned his attention back to the islanders who led us further along the trail. The sun hung low in the sky when we arrived at their village, an arrangement of longish timber houses, raised up on posts and thatched with palm fronds. We were escorted through the village toward a sort of pavilion in it’s center where we were bid to wait while the chieftain was fetched. Many villagers came out when we arrived and watched us with guarded excitement. They were all dark, sallow folk, compact and sinewy. Each of them, man, woman and child, were clad in the same brightly colored loincloth as the hunters we met. While our bronze armor and weapons were novel to them, they seemed particularly fascinated by Sigyn’s yellow hair, and the heavy beards worn by Erastus and myself, for such things were unknown among them. While they were excited by our arrival, there seemed to be some sort of pall cast over the primitive community, for their eyes had the cast of a people laboring under some grim, prolonged oppression.

After a brief wait, an elderly fellow, escorted by a squad of spearmen entered the pavilion and took his place upon a carved, decorated tree stump that served as a throne. He seemed haggard, downcast, and defeated. His mood brightened considerably when he set eyes on Erastus. He rose and went to the old scholar wringing his hands and chattering rapidly. Erastus responded to him in the same tongue, though more slowly. After a lengthy discussion Erastus turned to us.

“This is Datu, Leader of the Yango people. I met him and his people as a young man on one of my earliest voyages. Then they dwelt upon a different Island many leagues from here. The depredations of the Sea People drove them hence some score of years ago.”

It was then Datu turned to us and addressed us in a pidgen approximation of the tongue of the Greeks. His smile was broad, but his eyes were dead and held sadness and dread..

“You welcome here, friends of Erastus. We thank you for saving Makisig and Jejemar from death-bird! We feast later, make big welcome! But now, we must call upon our gods. Make ritual. Datu spearmen take you to longhouses of Datu, there you rest. Datu come after. Do not leave house before Datu come. It taboo for Greek to see ritual of Yango.” 

We agreed and allowed ourselves to be led away. As we walked to Datu’s house we passed another procession of spearmen headed toward the pavilion, this one leading a row of four maidens, each with a downturned face and a bearing of dread and grief. I cast a glance at Erastus, but he would not meet my gaze.

We were placed in the house of Datu, which was quite spacious and luxurious in a primitive fashion, a gaggle of children I took to be Datu’s spawn brought us a meal of fruits and dried fish, complemented by a sweet, milky coloured wine. It was quite delightful. Canace did not find it thus and began to voice her displeasure, but a sharp look from Sigyn stilled her tongue. After eating we lounged and rested. Erastus pontificated at length on his previous interaction with the Yango, depicting them as a supremely peaceful, friendly race, chalking up their current downcast mood to their flight from the Sea People. Sigyn amused herself by teasing and roughhousing with the children who flocked to her, seeking to touch her hair or test the strength of her arm by swinging from it. Canace, typically, was surly and withdrawn.

As the sun set, Datu’s women came and bundled the children off to a different house, three of his spearmen, making themselves understood with much gesturing, escorted us to smaller huts where we were to sleep. One for Erastus and Canace, one for Sigyn, and one for me. As I settled in for the night, I took note that the spearman who conveyed me to the hut remained within a spearcast of the entrance. I told myself this was a courtesy, to guard me against any nocturnal threat. It grew dark and I dozed, but deep sleep evaded me, for there came to my ears the sound of drumming and chanting from some distance away, then my ears were assailed by the same animalistic roars we had heard when we camped on the beach. I struggled to ignore the sounds, but only grew more restless. Presently, I was jolted to full alertness by a whisper from the darkness.

“Hist!”

I was not overly alarmed for I recognized Sigyn’s voice. I was baffled how she came upon me undetected.

“How did you get past the guards?” I asked.

“Twas not overly difficult, they were distracted by the tumult coming from the jungle, and I avoided their gaze by slipping through the flimsy reed walls at the back of the huts. Sneaking up on you was an easier task, you Greeks have dulled your senses with the comforts of civilization.”

“I can find no argument against that. But what ails you that you come to me in such a surreptitious manner?”

She moved closer. In the scant moonlite seeping through the reed and palm fronds constructing the hut I saw she was barefoot and clad only in her tunic, gripping her iron sword in her right fist. She knelt by the pallet of reeds and grasses upon which I reclined, whispering near my ear.

“The drums and chanting, they grow louder and more fervent, as do the roars. Only a fool would think the two unconnected.”

“I agree, but I hesitate to investigate, or to question Datu, he seemed reticent to discuss it. I intend to defer to Erastus on the matter.”

“These people are afraid, deathly afraid. Recall you those girls they led past us? There was doom in their eyes, Hippias.”

“I, too, saw that. But what to do? We do not know all the facts, and if we did we are four… two really… against many. Even if we had with us the crew of the Pelican we would be greatly outnumbered.”

“I know not what we should do, Hippias, or when, but whatever simmers here will soon boil over, and we are likely to get scalded, by Ymir!”

“Is this the matter that drove you to so stealthily visit me?”

“No, I came to pursue a different matter.”

With this, she laid down her sword and removed her tunic, revealing herself fully to me. I was taken aback, and the shock burned my face and set my heart racing. She leaned over, taking my face in her hands. Her breath stirred my beard as she again whispered in my ear.

“These huts are more roomy and private than the hold of the Pelican, who knows when we will have this chance again. Are you agreeable to me sharing your bed, Hippias?”

I found my hands already exploring her body, seemingly on their own accord. I felt scars upon her sun-bronzed flesh and muscles forged to iron hardness by combat and exertion, yet the feminine curves beneath my fingers did much to temper the harshness of her warrior’s frame. I pulled her close and sought her neck with my mouth. Her hair smelled of sea winds and wood smoke. My own voice sounded thick, distant and unsteady to my ears.

“It is most agreeable.”

We kissed and frolicked upon the reed bed of the Yango until Hypnos overtook us.

III.

We were roused the next morning by a piercing shriek that shocked us into full wakefulness. Hastily we threw on our tunics, gathered our swords and stepped out onto the portico. A second tortured wail erupted and we were able to locate it as coming from the village center. We rushed there in time to behold a nightmarish scene. The islanders had kindled a great fire before their pavilion, it billowed forth rancid, greasy smoke. Before it was set large wicker baskets, seeping blood and filled with human detritus.The Islanders were conveying the baskets to the fire when Canace, having risen early and somehow evading the notice of the guardian spearman, came upon the horrific scene. It was she who shrieked so hellishly. Now she was crumpled at the feet of her husband who had also rushed out to investigate

“Ymir!” croaked Sigyn, invoking her barbaric deity. “Tis the maidens!”

My mind sluggishly made all the connections and hideous enlightenment settled it’s bitter cloak about me. The contents of those four baskets held the remains of the four maidens that we passed the day before. Horror and outrage overcame my reason and judgement. With my unshod foot I kicked over one of the baskets, spilling its contents to the ground. I have stood on many a battlefield and am no stranger to the destruction of the body, but  the mutilations visited upon this Yango maiden was the result of no weapon of man, nor tooth or claw of any beast. The limbs were separated at every joint, hanging loosely when not torn away from the body completely.The belly was torn open and the entrails removed. The bones of the pelvis were destroyed in a revoltingly suggestive manner. The maiden’s face however, was left untouched, and still bore an expression of terror so profound looking upon it near unmanned me. The whole cadaver was covered in a viscous, reeking, green fluid. Incredulous, I looked to Datu.

“Why have you done this thing?”

No answer was forthcoming. The Yango people looked stoically forward or with downcast eyes in seeming shame. No one spoke, only the sobbing of Canace broke the silence. Finally Erastus addressed Datu in his tongue. They conversed briefly in subdued tones. I grew impatient.

“Speak! To what horror have we sailed?”

Erastus awkwardly stroked his beard and then threw his hands up in despair.

“Great misery has befallen the Yango, Hippias! A demon haunts this jungle, a demon who hungers for woman-flesh!”

“So these craven dogs happily feed it’s hunger with their maidens?” Sigyn interjected angrily.

“It was not always thus.” Erastus explained. “The thing set upon them soon after they arrived here, killing many. It’s preferred victims were young women, women that the demon would gratify himself with, and in gratifying himself, utterly destroy them as you see here. Datu and his people found that by sacrificing a few girls to it when they heard it bellowing in the jungle, it appeases the demon, and spares the rest the people it’s further wrath.”

“Why appease it?” Asked Sigyn. “Slay the thing!”

Datu shook his head vigorously.

“Masa-Mangtow, The Evil One, cannot be slain! Him hide too tough. Yango spears break. Him to strong for Yango!”

Why not flee then?” I asked. “Your boats await near the shore.”

“Yango not flee. Masa-Mangtow kill! Gods send Masa-Mangtow to punish Yango. We stay. Make sacrifice. Maybe gods stop Masa-Mangtow!”

I was incensed. We of Syracuse made sacrifices to the gods, but with wine and beasts, not the flower of their womanhood.

“This is obscene!” I roared. “What will you do when you run out of maidens?” 

“Gods will stop Masa-Mangtow soon. We wait.”

Sigyn spat upon the ground.

“I will not wait! I will hunt this thing now, and see if it’s hide will turn a spear tipped with bronze! Woe unto he who would dissuade me!”

With that she turned to march off toward her hut.

“I stand with you, Sigyn. But let us send for the men of the Pelican, This Masa-Mangtow will be hard pressed to stand before so many spears.”

“Do as you like. I will set out as soon as I arm myself!

I made to follow her. Turning to Erastus, I said.

“Erastus! I beg thee hasten to the Pelican and rouse the men! Send them after us. I will blaze a trail for them to follow as we hunt the creature.”

Erastus nodded assent. Canace had regained some composure and was eyeing me intently. TheYango seemed confused by our actions and looked to Datu, who finally moved to stand in front of me.

“No! Greeks not hunt Masa-Mangtow. Greeks only die, anger gods! Make worse for Yango! Make worse for Greeks! Leave island!

I sidestepped the old man and proceeded to my hut.

“I will not be dissuaded Datu! I must oppose the evil of Masa-Mangtow if I am to  live with myself.”

I ignored his further protests and returned to my hut where I girded myself for battle. Thus prepared I called upon Apollo and Ares to bless my undertaking and grant me victory. I returned to the pavilion to find Sigyn awaiting me in full armor.

“Masa-Mangtow will hear us coming a league off.” I stated.

“Good! I want him to dread my arrival!”

The Yango milled about in a group, eyeing us nervously. I had feared Datu might order his spearmen to contest us. But they stood by quietly. Canace, face pale and eyes swollen and red, approached us bearing a bowl of the islanders milky wine. With a quavering voice she addressed us.

“My husband has left to rouse the crew of the Pelican. Ere he left, he bid me have you make a libation to the gods to assure your good fortune!”

Not one to risk the wrath of Olympus, I took the bowl from her. Lacking a phiale I poured a portion upon the ground, honoring the gods. I then drank deeply of the sweet thick wine and passed the bowl to Sigyn, She drained the bowl and handed it back to Canace.

“Ymir drinks not wine. Masa-Mangtow will provide Ymir’s libation when I open his veins.”

She grinned at me wolfishly and strode toward the jungle. I followed, seeking to surpass her, for my pride would not allow a woman to proceed me in battle. I recall slashing a tree with my sword to mark our path for the crew, and asking Sigyn how she intended to pick up the devil’s trail. 

After this, I have no recollection of anything before awakening, trussed up like a pig in the dirt, with the pounding of drums, the mournful lamentations of the islanders and the rapidly approaching roars of Masa-Mangtow resounding in my ears.

IV.

I fought to regain my faculties. My vision was blurred and my head swam. There was a strange cloying bitterness on my tongue. Clearly the wine had been drugged. I was bound at the wrists and ankles, which were in turn lashed together behind me. I had been stripped of my arms and armor. I rolled about to take in my environs. 

Night had fallen and I lay on the dark loam of the jungle floor, there was firelight shining upon us from some distance away. Erastus lay near me, bound in a similar fashion. He looked upon me with great fear in his eyes. All about us stood the Yango, who stared dumbly in the direction of the light. I followed their gaze. In a clearing a spearcast from where I lay, encircled by dozens of blazing torches, was a great head carved from volcanic stone. It’s aspect was bestial and demonic. It had been painted in various hues, but was now copiously stained with what I assumed to be blood. Before this savage totem were four rude crucifixes lashed together from logs. And to each was tied a woman, limbs outstretched along the members of the crucifix. Along with two Yango maidens were tied Canace and Sigyn. Upon seeing them my heart sank and called down the wrath of Zeus upon the Yango.

“Canace betrayed us!” spake Erastus, his voice thick and heavy. “She feared our hunting the demon would bring it’s wrath upon her, or that the Yango would punish her for our blasphemy against their gods. She connived with Datu to drug your wine. Datu’s men seized me ere I got a league from the village and dragged me back.”

“Then the Yango betrayed her?”

“Aye, better to sacrifice two foriegners and save two Yango maidens. Woe that I brought us here. I am sorry, Hippias!”

Datu hobbled into the clearing, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks. He went in turn to each woman and stripped them of their garments. Canace pleaded with the old man to release her, but he ignored her and tore away her gown, his face a mask of guilt and anguish. He came to Sigyn, who hung limply on the crucifix with her head slumped on her bosom, still in the grip of the drugged wine. Datu tore at her tunic, but it was the strongly-woven garment of a fighting-man and resisted tearing. His tugging jostled the barbarian and she began to stir of her own accord. It was then that the roaring from the jungle grew louder, and the foliage opposite where I lay began to stir as the thing approached. Soon it would be in the clearing. Datu wrenched away the last tatters of Sigyn’s tunic and hastened back to the crowd of Yango. I strained my bonds and spat curses at the old man.

“Bastard! Foul wretch! By Ares I’ll cut out your heart for this deed!”

The chieftain of the Yango looked down upon me with the eyes of a man already dead.

“It only way.”

There was a tumult in the clearing and a savage chant rose from the Yango. Masa-Mangtow had arrived. Bursting into the clearing like a charging bull.

The sight of him stripped me of my reason and sanity. I can now only describe his appearance vaguely, for the fullness of time has blurred my full recollection of his obscene aspect. He had the general shape of a man, but twice as tall and wide. He had no neck, his cone shaped head tapering up from his wide shoulders. Long, spikey, irregular teeth jutted from between wide, flabby red lips. Tiny, swine-like eyes leered from deep sockets under a heavy brow ridge. He was three toed and three fingered with broad heavy digits tipped with thick nails. His flesh was pale and pulpy, with a faint green pallor. He was covered with pulsing sac-like growths ranging from the size of a pear to that of a melon. His manhood was alarmingly outsized and sickeningly malformed. 

Masa-Mangtow waddled into the clearing and surveyed the offerings, then set upon the Yango maid nearest to him. Her screams were near inhuman but mercifully short as Masa-Mangtow had his way with her. My view of her destruction was blocked by the monster’s bulk, but the visceral sounds of it were not. I was not so lucky as he turned his attention to the next victim. The demon violated the woman before my eyes. She did not pass as mercifully as the first, sheiking and wailing as Masa-Mangtow sated his hellish appetites upon her. Blood sprayed and bone cracked as the monster fairly wallowed in her wrecked body. Ah!  Would that Zeus had struck me blind ere I bore witness to such bestial depravity. 

Now He turned his eyes to Canace. She saw her doom in the eyes of Masa-Mangtow and wailed entreaties to the gods for aid. Hands slick with the blood of the Yango women grasped Canace as if in a lover’s embrace and tore her from the crucifix. She screamed and writhed as her splendid body was slowly mangled and profaned, begging and pleading for mercy. Though I hated her, I would have given my own life to spare Canace of Thebes the foul embrace of Masa-Mangtow. Erastus had more reason than I to hate her, or perhaps not, but I heard his lamentations and they were bitter. She was an adulteress and a betrayer, but she did not deserve this grim fate.

I writhed in the dirt like a stricken dog. I called upon Zeus, then upon Apollo and Ares for the strength to burst my bonds. That failing, I called upon Hera and Athena, imploring them to aid me in avenging this affront to Greek womanhood. It was at that moment a sharp pain bit into my hand. Some sharp object on the ground cut me. With scrabbling fingers I sought to grasp it. It was a sharp shard of shell or pottery. I struggled into position and cut at the ropes around my legs. I felt the fibers of the rope parting. I begged all the goddesses of Olympus to speed my hand.

Alas,  the foul monster finished with Canace ere I could free myself. He stood panting amid the wreckage of her body, caked with blood and viscera. He was closer now and I could make out the multitude of stiff black hairs that sprouted between the tumorous growths. They put me in mind of the hairs upon a fly’s legs. The smell of blood was so thick I felt it on my tongue and I nearly retched. Masa-Mangtow began to walk slowly to Sigyn. The savage had gained her senses and strained at her bonds, muscles rippling as she drew her limbs inward. The ropes stretched, and the timbers shifted, but they held. She did not scream. She stared the demon in the eye with her face set in a grimace of hate.

Suddenly my legs were free. I did not wait to struggle freeing my hands. I clambered to my feet and ran, speeding past the mesmerised Yango and straight for Masa-Mangtow. the monster turned to face me, perhaps surprised to be challenged. I put my head down and speared the thing with my shoulder with all the speed and force I could muster. My shoulder sunk into the pulpy tissues of its body and some of the sac-like growths burst, spewing foul ichor upon me. I careened off its body and tumbled into the dirt. Masa-Mangtow staggered, and fell. I struggled to rise, hindered by my still bound hands. The demon regained his feet first and stalked toward me, intent on punishing the puny mortal who dared interrupt his pleasure. 

Standing above me, it brought up its mallet-like fists. I sneered and spat at it’s repellent visage.

V.

It was at that moment Sigyn appeared, interposing herself between me and Masa-Mangtow. She had somehow freed herself, strands of rope hung limply about her and she held a broken timber from the crucifix that held her. She swung this like a battering ram and drove the jagged end of the broken timber into the things belly. It reeled backward, seeking escape, but Sigyn pressed the attack, withdrawing her clumsy, makeshift spear and thrusting it in again. It did not penetrate deeply, but it wounded the creature. Unused to such fierce resistance, Masa-Mangtow sought to flee.

Something happened to the Yango then. Perhaps our example inspired them, or seeing Masa-Mangtow bleed and retreat in fear showed them he was not a god, but some beast of flesh and blood. Either way, the Yango found their courage and attacked. First the spearmen of Datu ran in, assailing Masa-Mangtow with their stone-tipped spears. Then the rest of the men, then the women, then, by Zeus, the children harried the demon with sticks and stones. My bonds were cut and my sword was placed in my hand. I screamed in wordless exultation and slashed at the monster. The bronze blade of the Greeks laid open a great gash across Masa-Mangtow’s back. Roaring, he swung his mighty arms and sent many of us flying. Gaining a space, it turned tail and fled back to the jungle. The Yango cheered and rejoiced. I pulled Sigyn to me.

“We must pursue and kill it! Find our spears while I send Erastus back to the Pelican for the men!”

“I will not wait for them! I will not let it escape!”

“Will you wait for me at least?”

She grinned.

“I will, but make haste!’

I found Erastus by the remains of his wife. Staring down at the bloody ruin. I grasped his shoulders and shook him. He looked at me with glazed, distant eyes.

“Eh? Ah, Hippias, my pupil. You live?”

“Erastus! Go to the Pelican and fetch the crew! Sigyn and I will track the creature and try to kill it. If we fail, the men of the Pelican must finish it! Do you understand? Go, help us avenge Canace!”

“Yes-  the Pelican- I will go.”

I was not certain the old man could find his way in his current state.

“Get Datu to take you, he should know the way also.”

“Yes, Datu. We will go to the Pelican.”

I watched him walk unsteadily toward Datu, who stood listlessly alongside the celebrating Yango. Suddenly, Sigyn was at my side thrusting a shield into my hands.

“I found only one spear, but you have your sword! Take his shield and we'll be off. I fear the trail will grow cold if we waste time gathering all our arms.”

I assented. Taking up torches, we followed after Masa-Mangtow.

His path was not hard to follow. The demon had tore through the jungle tearing away the brush and knocking aside trees. His oily, reeking ichor was splattered about liberally. We moved as swiftly as we could by torchlight over the treacherous terrain. Deeper and deeper into the primordial jungle we traveled. I felt with each step we grew further and further from the bright light of our enlightened civility and closer to the animalistic barbarism of our primitive origins. I shuddered and grew uneasy, but Sigyn seemed to relish our situation and grew  almost giddy. At last she stopped and raised her arm to arrest my progress.

“Stop. He is near. Listen.”

From just beyond the glow of our torches we could hear wheezing gurgles and the slight rustling of foliage. We threw our torches ahead of us, lighting the path. Sigyn readied her spear, and I my sword. We crouched behind our shields and crept forward. 

The trail terminated into yet another clearing. There were no trees or undergrowth, but the ground was thickly covered with grasses, weeds and short shrubs that were festooned with oddly grotesque blossoms. There stood within this area a monolith, a perfect cube that stood two or three times my height. It glistended darkly as polished obsidian. Near the base of the monolith lay Masa-Mangtow. He lay imobile one arm outstretched toward the monolith, as though he sought to reach it ere his wounds overcame him. Masa-Mangtow yet lived for all his immobility, he took ragged breaths and twitched spasmodically. Sigyn and I were merciful, and dispatched him. Once he lay still we cut off his head and hands to take back to the Yango. This grisly task complete, we regarded the monolith. So smooth and polished was the monolith we were reflected on its surface as though in a mirror, and I studied my reflection. 

It came to me that the man in the reflection was somehow better, closer to perfection than myself. His muscles more defined and proportional, his beard more resplendent, his features more beautiful and godlike. I felt the need to touch the reflection. I felt an unspoken promise that the monolith could sculpt me into this perfected Hippias. Then, upon the face of my reflection, there landed a dragonfly. It settled on the monolith and grew still. Before my eyes the insect swelled, it’s features distorted greenish tumors erupted upon its body. It’s mouthparts became less insect-like and more reptilian.

I tore my gaze from the monolith and stepped back. I saw Sigyn reaching toward the monolith, her fingers were a hair's breadth away. I seized her by the waist and pulled her back.

“Come away, Sigyn! Touch not the stone! It is the source of evil!”

She looked at me confused, then shook her golden mane. Having recovered herself she looked back at the monolith. The dragonfly, now fully transformed into a nauseating parody of itself, flew away into the night. She shuddered.

“Ymir! Had we touched that, we would have become as Masa-Mangtow!”

“Aye! Had the gods not sent that dragonfly I would have touched the thing and would now be a ravening beast! I will sacrifice a ram in thanks as soon as I am able!”

We placed Masa-Mangtow’s head and hands upon one of the shields, and lashed it with vines to Sigyn’s spear.  We bore it between us to the clearing where the Yango made their grim sacrifice. At length I gave voice to my thoughts.

“It comes to me that the Evil One may well have been one of the Yango!” 

“It seems likely, further, it seems possible than there are more Masa-Mangtows about, since whatever touches that cube becomes demonic.”

I shuddered at this idea and kept silent.

We arrived to find the Yango still celebrating. Wine had been brought and couples cavorted about the torchlit clearing, engaging in a strongly erotic dance that more than simulated the procreative act. Their jubilations grew more fervent when they beheld the remains of Masa-Mangtow, they placed these before the stone head and threw rocks and detritus at the severed head of the Evil One. For our part we were heralded as heroes and heaped with offerings of food, wine, praise and all forms of affection. The celebration moved back to the Yango village, and showed no signs of abating when Sigyn and I retired to one of the huts set aside for us. Our own attempt at lovemaking was abortive, for we were weary to the bone from our ordeals and sickened from the effects of the drug we’d been given. Hand in hand we slept like the dead.

VI.

It was midday when we awoke. Finding our strength had returned, we roused ourselves with a bout of lovemaking. Afterward, we dressed ourselves in the manner of the Yango and went outside, seeking food and drink. Most of the Yango lay about in a stupor, those who were up and about were woozy and uncommunicative. We searched the village and located the rest of our arms and armor along with victuals to break our fast. As we ate, Sigyn made an observation.

“Should Erastus not have returned by now with the men of the Pelican?”

“One would think so. Still, it is a long trek, perhaps they are delayed.”

“Let us arm ourselves and set out to meet them. I'm weary of this village.”

I consented and we set off within the hour, leaving the Yango to themselves.

We retraced our steps back to the beach where the Pelican lay, taking a leisurely pace in hopes of meeting with Erastus and the crew as they returned to the village. At midday we arrived at the carcass of the slain deathbird. It was bloated and stank, but was strangely untouched by scavengers. Sigyn scowled at it and shuddered.

“That bird must have touched the cube also.” I told her.

“Aye. I have seen them as large in the jungles south of Nubia. But they looked healthy and natural, unlike this thing. Let us be away.”

We continued until free of the stench of the bird, then stopped to partake of food and drink. Sigyn rose and scratched and I gazed upon her admiringly, She eyed me strangely and fidgeted with her helmet for a moment before putting it on.

“See here, Hippias.” she began. “ I am possessed of wanderlust. I can settle in the most delightful of lands, but within a few moons that place will grow hateful to me and I must wander. Nor do I adapt well to the customs of the civilized kingdoms. You Greeks, for example, demand much of your women that I cannot abide.”

I nodded gravely. I had expected such words from her. But they still saddened me to hear.

“I understand Sigyn. Must you wander from me today?”

She smiled, almost tenderly.

“No, not today, nor tomorrow.”

“Then I am content.”

We resumed our trek and by late afternoon we walked through the rows of canoes hidden in the jungle and stepped out upon the beach. To our chagrin, the Pelican no longer lay upon the sands. We saw it floating in the cove, seemingly at anchor. The sail was furled and he oars shipped. We saw no movement upon the deck. We hailed the Pelican from the shore, but no response was given.

“Another damned mystery!” hissed Sigyn.”I felt we were getting away with too much ease!”

“Ease?  I do not want to face what you call difficult, barbarian. Let us row out in one of the Yango boats, and see what is afoot.”

We selected the most serviceable of the canoes and, as night would soon fall, we lashed torches fore and aft. We dragged the boat to the water and were in short order bending our back to the oars. The Pelican began to loom large as we approached it. A bleakness of spirit settled over me.

“The thought of what we are to find on this ship fills me with dread, Sigyn.”

The amazon drew her sword and reached out to grasp the Pelican’s anchor-rope. Her teeth flashed in the torchlight as she favored me with a wolfish grin.

“Dread, you say? I say there is naught on this ship more dreadful than we.”

Here the fragment ends. A more complete version, if it exists, has yet to be discovered.