This little drabble is a continuation of the world building posts that describe places and people both in and around Atlantis, related to the "Meet the Characters" series. Remember “Storyweaver”? You don't? Check it out here:
For some odd reason, whenever I listen to or read “The Picket Guard,” it reminds me of the opening line of Edward Bulwer-Lytton's novel, Paul Clifford: "It was a dark and stormy night." Don't ask me why, since the solider in the poem is on guard on a peaceful night—a little too peaceful, as we later learn. Our poor hero didn't know what hit him. Thinking about it, I wondered, what if the night wasn't peaceful, but instead dark and stormy?
Granted, I've never read Paul Clifford, (has anyone?) but I've always wanted to use that line. Obviously, it's too clichéd to put in any of my novels. So I figured, why not make use of my blog and indulge myself there?
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All quiet along the Potomac to-night,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
Or the light of the watch-fires, are gleaming.
-Ethel Lynn Beers, “The Picket Guard”
"The Watchmen"
It was a dark and stormy night.
Not surprising, as hurricane season was well underway. Demitrios should have been used to the howling wind and pelting rain. Of course, the wind blew much harder against a watchman who stood at the top of a lighthouse. He couldn't wait for dawn, when he could go home to his family.
Pacing back and forth, he glanced out every so often into the pitch black night before him. His companion, Petros, slowly directed the beam of light back and forth across the churning sea. Only madmen would attempt to navigate in this wretched weather. But if one believed the scuttlebutt about their new enemy, they weren't exactly ordinary men.
A chill shook down his spine. It occurred to him that he might not even see the dark-sailed ships before it was too late. Rumor whispered that the sailors of those bedeviled vessels possessed control of nature itself, and could command the waves to calm if they wished.
Demitrios shook his head. Atlanteans were rational people, he reminded himself, and had long ago rejected superstition along with their gods. He, most of all, refused to add to any fear mongering.
All the same...
He comforted himself with the knowledge that Petros stood ready. Should Demitrios signal, his fellow watchman would activate the mighty orichalc-plated lens, which could instantly set an approaching ship ablaze.
Setting his jaw, he pulled his oiled coat forward to block the sea spray. There was no cause for concern. In the morning, he'd laugh about this with his wife, if he even remembered to tell her.
Yes, the shores of Atlantis were safe.
Picture source.