The temple of Joppa was filled with the people of the city who came to see the marriage between Andromeda, the daughter of the Ethiopian king, Cepheus, and Perseus, the Greek Prince of Argos. A great marble statue of Thetis, the patron goddess of the city, overlooked the ceremony. All eyes were on the young couple as they stood before the statue. The sound of the trumpet soared as the Ethiopian queen, Cassiopeia, emerged. There was a sparkling intelligence to her eyes, enhanced by the glitter of her gold earrings and necklace.
When she stood before the crowd in front of Andromeda and Perseus, she raised her hand and the chamber fell silent.
'I, Queen Cassiopeia of Joppa', she began, 'freely give my daughter, Andromeda, in marriage to the noble prince Perseus. I give him, the most beautiful of all women, even lovelier than the goddess Thetis herself.'
Just then, the entire temple quivered as though there was an earthquake. There was a cracking sound, the strain of marble pulling away from itself. It was the four-foot head of Thetis, tumbling from the statue's neck as if in condemnation of Cassiopeia's words.
Perseus grabbed the paralysed Andromeda and pulled her to one side.
The marble head crashed to the floor, and rolled slowly to rest.
There was a moment's silence as the tension began to dissipate.
As if by magic, the stone eyes of the head flashed open.
'Hear me vain a foolish mortal woman', the voice from the statue echoed. It was an epic sound, filled with anger and outrage that no human throat could contain. 'You dare compare your daughter's beauty to mine, and in my own sanctuary. For this you will pay dearly.'
The Ethiopian queen began to contract. She had been favoured for her wisdom by the king in times of war and strategic planning, but at this moment it had all escaped her. For decades she was seen as a woman of dignity and integrity, but now all that was left was a middle-aged woman falling prostrate on her knees, humbled by divine retribution.
'Forgive me, Thetis', she cried, almost as though it were her last rites. 'Forgive me.'
'In thirty days', the head continued, 'your daughter, Andromeda, must be taken to the sacrificial rock, bound and chained to the stone. A sacrifice fit for the Kraken. She must be delivered to the Kraken at the setting of the sun, or else the Kraken will destroy Joppa and everyone in it. For the insult you have done to me I demand the life of Andromeda . . . IN THIRTY DAYS.'
The mood in the royal chamber was sombre. The Ethiopian king, Cepheus, Perseus and a council of war had gathered together to discuss tactics.
'How can a mortal man face and defeat the Kraken?' Perseus asked.
The room was speechless.
'There must be a way', he insisted.
Cepheus flashed him a glance. He saw aspects of himself in Perseus: a youth that was behind him and a courage that was long lost. He had defeated warriors and armies single-handedly in his time, but all of that had now escaped him. He looked upon Perseus as an extension of himself - the new Cepheus, and felt that maybe, there might be an answer.
'Perhaps, one way', he conceded.
Further back in the shadows, the princess Andromeda stood listening intently.
'But the way', Cepheus continued, 'even more dangerous than the Kraken itself.'
There was a moment of silent anticipation.
'Tell it to me', Perseus demanded.
'The head of the gorgon, Medusa', Cepheus replied. 'One look from Medusa, be she alive or dead, will turn any living creature into stone, no matter how huge or powerful they are. It will be a Titan against a Titan.'
Perseus looked at Cepheus, surveying in his mind this one option that was available to him.
'How do I find this Medusa?' he asked.
'You will find her on the Isle of the Dead', Cepheus replied.
'Then I will take ten men with me and go at once.'
'You must win Medusa's head first, Perseus', Cepheus cautioned him. 'She's not going to hand it to you as a present.'
Perseus locked eyes with Cepheus as the full gravity of what he was up against began to dawn on him. With the security of a divine heritage and the protection of the gods, Perseus made up his mind.
'Ten men is all I'll need', he replied. 'We'll leave at once.'
He whirled around and began his exit.
As he walked past one of the stone pillars, Andromeda stepped into the light and presented herself to him.
'Perseus', she called out to him affectionately.
He broke his stride and then approached her, looking at her with tormented eyes.
She looked searchingly into his face, knowing that he may never return from this trip. He was torn between the beauty of her presence and the doom of death if his venture failed.
With all the pent-up frustration of a tortured soul he parted company from her and merged into the distance.
She stood in silhouette, watching her loved one swallowed up in the darkness, her eyes filled with tears.
The thirtieth day had arrived.
There was no sign of Perseus.
Andromeda emerged from the sacrificial pool where she was being cleansed. Her ebony skin glistened in the light, accentuating her physical beauty. There was an otherworldly quality to her, as though she had already made a spiritual leap to the gods. Her body was a shrine of divinity, waiting to free itself of its humanity to begin its ascent. She was beautiful.
When she was dressed, she joined the procession, flanked by priests who escorted her to the rock of sacrifice. It waited there for her a concrete finger pointing away from the city, haunted by the memories of previous victims.
The priests placed the manacles around her wrists and ankles, and fastened her to the cold rock. They hurried back into the crowd, and waited for the dreaded moment.
A blanket of silence carpeted the shore. Not a sound could be heard.
Until . . .
The sea began to boil like a stove pot, hinting at a tremendous energy below. As the immensity erupted from the depths, a great roar of water became displaced. A tentacle rose into the air and wrapped itself around a rock. The massive body of its owner, pulling itself above the surface, followed it. It was a hybrid sea monster charting a reptilian and fishlike strain. Its dragon-like tail switched in the water, and its scaly face peered down at Andromeda through eyes the size of ships. It was the last of the Titans.
Andromeda turned her face tightly to the rock, waiting for the moment to end.
A cheer rose from the crowd that alerted her attention. There was something else taking place. Something she did not anticipate. She turned her head slowly, straining to see, daring to hope. Her eyes located the source of this new activity. It was a solitary figure in the sky. The flying stallion, Pegasus, and seated on its back was the triumphant Perseus, carrying the head of Medusa in a red cloak.
He loosened the cloak, grasped a handful of cold, rubbery coils and held it out to the face of the Kraken. Freed from its sleep of death, the eyes of the gorgon opened, and the snakes began to wriggle between Perseus' fingers.
The Kraken remained motionless as it began to age a thousand years within a moment of time. It began to crumble, forcing huge chunks of its stiffened body into the sea. All at once it became unbalanced, and tumbled backwards, blending in with the ocean. The surface of the sea gurgled and bubbled, and then discharged its final moan.
After Perseus dispatched of the gorgon's head, he was deposited on the sacrificial rock, allowing him to free his bride. He looked into her eyes, and in a moment of tenderness they sought each other's lips in a deep, loving kiss.
Copyright © Jason Young
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