Galena and the Harpy
By Katie Tillwick
Galena stepped into the tavern, pushing aside the rough leather door. The smell hit — cheap wine, drunk men, and the aroma of fresh bread and mutton stew. Her mouth watered, her throat thirsted, and she didn’t care about quality.
The harpy grumbled and shuffled on her shoulder, its claws clicking. She said, “Look at them. They should all die. Men, with their small minds and furry faces. Kill them, you must kill them. They deserve to die, for what they’re thinking. You know they’re looking at you, thinking about pulling off your armor, ripping off your tunic, about raping you. Kill them.”
“Shut up, Peinao.” Galena put up a palm for silence. “I’d like to relax for an evening.”
Peinao was certainly right about one thing: every man in the place turned to stare, and conversation lulled as they leered.
Galena smiled in pre-emptive greeting, and every man turned away.
Resigned, Galena spied an empty seat and walked to the bar. She sat next to a thin man in a brown woolen cloak and discolored chiton.
The man inspected her from sandal-bared toes to black hair, his eyes flicking to her shoulder where Peinao sat.
“What, never seen a swordswoman before?” Galena dismissed the glance. Only she could see Peinao.
“No, I’ve seen your kind before, though rarely. Just never one so ugly.” The man grinned, revealing strong white teeth. His greasy brown hair was tied back with a leather thong.
Galena frowned. She was ugly, uglier than the blood-soaked harpy. Her nose, though small, was flat, crooked and squashed, and a scar pulled at her mouth’s left side. Other scars crossed her body, not all gained in battles. Her hair was short, her breasts small, her arms and legs ropy with muscle. She smiled, even though the scar made her grin awful.
“Not so hideous as you.”
The man threw back his head to laugh. She hadn’t lied about that, the man’s huge nose stuck out like a hawk’s beak, and his small dark eyes were set too deep in his head.
He said, “Bartender, get this fine lady a drink!” He turned back to her. “Name’s Zotikos.”
“Galena.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” Zotikos tapped his fingers on the bar, still smiling.
Peinao hissed with displeasure, her bird’s claws clicking on Galena’s bronze shoulder armor. “You shouldn’t be talking to him. Kill him! Stab your sword into his guts and bring out his bowels, so I may feast.”
Zotikos’s eyes widened a touch, and his fingers stopped their playing. He brought his hands together, to twist at a plain gold ring he wore. His fingers were smooth and soft, not calloused and dark like Galena’s own. He stared at her, his expression carefully blank. With a thrill of fear, Galena wondered if perhaps he could see Peinao.
The bartender set a clay goblet before her and a fresh wine jug. Zotikos took the jug and filled Galena’s cup, then his own.
“Ever hear of a creature called the harpy?” She twirled the cup, watching the wine swirl inside.
He pulled the ring off. Placing one finger on the simple gold band’s top, he spun it with flicks of forefinger and thumb. “A mythical creature. Supposedly, they are the souls of ravaged and murdered women, seeking revenge by eating men’s flesh. Little bundles of concentrated hate.” He glanced at her. “They’re just stories. Make believe to scare children.”
“Yeah. Legends and tales.” Galena nodded, torn between disappointment and relief.
A barmaid passed by, carrying a tray loaded with steaming stew bowls and hunks of bread. Galena flagged the young woman down, taking food. She tore the loaf, and dipped a chunk in her stew while keeping focused on Zotikos.
He’d resumed spinning his ring. Galena eyed it with a different kind of hunger, and wondered how wealthy Zotikos was.
Peinao whispered, “Yes, you should rob him, kill him. Take his nice things. Then I can eat.”
“This stuff is horrid.” Zotikos sipped his wine and smacked his lips. “Back to monsters, there are recent stories of men killed on a battlefield’s edges, their guts removed and missing. Or of men waylaid on the highway, same brutal death. Some say it’s a woman committing the murders, a female demon.”
Galena raised her eyebrows, and sipped her sour wine.
“Other’s say that it’s an insane man.” He shrugged. “I lean toward the man. Who’s ever heard of a woman murderer, am I right?”
She swallowed and said, “Indeed. If your story is true.”
“Oh, it is, Galena.” Zotikos leaned in close. “I’ve seen some of the corpses myself.”
Chills ran down her spine. She wondered again if he knew, but then he said, “You need to be careful. Doesn’t matter how good a swordswoman you are, danger lurks everywhere.
“Safe travels, sweet delight-of-my-eye. My coin will cover your food, help yourself to the rest of my wine.” He stood, flipped the bartender a coin, and brought his hood up.
She couldn’t stop her lips from curling in a smile.
“We need to kill him. I don’t like him.” The harpy leaned on her shoulder to watch him go.
Galena shook her head.
Peinao squawked in outrage, “What do you mean? Why not?”
“He bought me dinner and wine.” She took another bite, chewing in thought. Warmth spread through her as she remembered his voice, his smile. “He was nice to me — I can’t kill someone who was nice to me.”
Peinao leaned in, her stinky harpy breath blowing up Galena’s nose. “Finish eating. I’m hungry too, and I want to eat Zotikos.”
“You’re always hungry.” She swabbed the bowl’s bottom with her bread. “Let’s find a battlefield instead. Get some work to earn money.”
“No. I want Zotikos!”
The bartender came over and picked up Zotikos’s cup. Behind it laid the ring.
Galena snatched the simple gold band before the bartender could. “Sorry, seems my friend forgot that. I’ll return it to him.”
With a grunt, the bartender nodded, his eyes narrowed.
Galena stood to leave, her fingers on her sword’s wrapped hilt. She loosened the blade in its scabbard as she walked out, just in case.
Outside, the early spring air bit. She ignored her goose bumps, and instead looked left and right down the dirt road, trying to figure which way Zotikos went. She didn’t see him. Galena asked a porter passing by, his huge pack extending over his wool-capped head, if he’d seen a big-nosed man in a brown cloak and short chiton. The stranger said no.
With a shrug, Galena slipped the ring on her left thumb.
It fit perfectly.
_________________________________________________________________
Galena trudged up the steep hill, stepping around rocks and boulders. A herd of goats scampered by, even the fresh new kids moving faster than her. She glowered at them.
Peinao still spoke of Zotikos. “We need to find him. Kill him. I want his guts, you must turn back, Zotikos went the other way.”
“Shut.” She took a deep breath. “Up.”
The harpy ignored her commands, as usual. “I’m starving. Starving, starving. You need to kill him, kill kill kill kill him. His hot blood, I want a taste.”
Peinao rarely remembered individual men, let alone their names.
“Why are you so interested in him?” Galena came to a flat area, and stopped to rest.
“He seemed delicious and he knew about harpies. I want to eat him. Very much, I want to eat his guts, very very much.”
“Well, it’s not going to happen.” Galena sighed and resumed her pace. “I don’t know where he went, and I’m not interested in killing him, anyway.”
The thought of Zotikos’s soft hands surfaced in her mind. A scholar’s hands. Why was a learned man alone on the road?
“What do you mean by that?” The harpy flew off her shoulder, buzzing around her head. “All men deserve to die. They are evil, disgusting creatures. Rapists, murderers, all of them! Remember what they did to us, to Mother. Don’t forget, stupid Galena!”
“I haven’t forgotten. I will never forget.” Galena’s teeth ground not only at the memory of their mother’s death, but at Peinao’s accusation. She held out a hand in apology. “I just don’t want to, not him, so calm down. We’ll find someone else.”
“How can you not want to kill him?” Peinao returned to her shoulder spot, grumbling.
“I’m tired of killing.”
“What!” Peinao screeched. “Don’t be stupid, ugly woman! We need our vengeance. Little Galena, so dumb.”
Galena took a deep breath as she listened to the harpy’s continued complaining. She imagined hitting the bird right off her shoulder, smack! and a puff of feathers. With a smile she started to sing an old song, one their mother loved.
On hearing the sound, Peinao settled. After a moment, the harpy hummed along.
_________________________________________________________________
“Someone follows us,” Peinao said from above.
Galena stopped. “Bandits?” She loosened her sword in its scabbard.
“No, a lone man.” Peinao flapped down, and landed on her shoulder.
“Armed?”
Peinao shook her head. “He’s wearing a cloak, can’t tell.”
“How far back?”
“A mile, bottom of the hill. He’s on foot.” The harpy smiled, her black needle teeth flashing. “Will we kill him?”
“I don’t know.” Galena walked forward again. Her fingers twitched, and she flexed them in anticipation. “Probably.”
She set up camp in a rocky hollow. Despite the chill, she didn’t light a fire, and waited until dark to circle back. Climbing up the boulder and off the trail, she spied through the leaves of a scrubby olive wood. Below, a man sat before a blazing campfire.
As she came closer, Galena heard the man whistling a jolly tune. She circled around and caught a glimpse of his face.
Zotikos, with his huge nose.
She stifled her gasp and retreated, heart thumping, and hustled back the way she came.
Peinao screamed at her from above. “What are you doing? It’s that horrible man, you must kill him. Kill him! Kill him before he kills you!”
Galena returned to her own camp and lay down on the grass, ignoring the harpy’s voice. She shivered in cold, and pressed her hands to her eyes, trying to erase Zotikos, and his happy whistling, from her mind.
_________________________________________________________________
Another day, more miles. A large town sat over the next mountain, one with a grand temple at its peak, and Galena set her course that way. There’d been no word of battles at wayside taverns or from fellow travelers, but these were the City-States. War existed somewhere.
She hadn’t killed a man now in a week. Peinao complained bitterly, saying, “I’m starving. I shall fall off your shoulder, shriveled up, desiccated.”
Galena sighed. “You’re already dead. How can you possibly starve to death?”
“I never said anything about me dying.”
“Well, I’ll do something soon.” She opened and closed her hands, loosening them. “Can’t have you suffering.”
“That’s right. No suffering. Done enough of that.” Peinao clicked her teeth. “Zotikos still follows.”
“I know.”
“Kill him.”
“No.”
“Why not?” The harpy leaned forward until she met Galena’s eyes. “You like him, don’t you? Emotions are lies, stupid Galena. You always were the slow one. Remember — men are evil. Ignore your feelings, for they steer women wrong.”
“I don’t love him. I just don’t want to kill him.”
“I never said anything about ‘love’.” Peinao snickered. “Liar liar.”
Galena ground her teeth in annoyance. She didn’t like any man. Least of all an ugly, skinny, loud one like Zotikos.
“It’s just coincidence that he’s behind us.” She spun the ring on her thumb.
“Pffft. This I doubt. That ring you fondle so often is likely spelled, but I’m sure his nearness makes you happy, whore.”
Galena punched for her shoulder, but Peinao flew off.
“Come back here! How dare you insult me, you filthy feather bag! After all I do for you!”
The harpy cackled above, and Galena bunched her hands and strode off. Her anger cooling, she slowed and brought her hand up to examine the ring.
Zotikos’s delicate fingers flashed again in her memory. Smooth and unscarred. Like a magician’s hands might be.
Perhaps Peinao was right, and he wanted to kill her. Perhaps not, but she would find out.
_________________________________________________________________
Many travelers were on the road, too many for a killing, and they reached the town’s stone walls without opportunity to feed the harpy.
Galena entered through the massive wooden gate, delicate bronze scroll work covering its front. She paid the guards a copper to let her by.
Her first thoughts were about securing an inn and a tanker of beer, but her eyes traveled to the many pillared temple, high on the acropolis. She hadn’t visited a temple, or prayed to god or goddess, since childhood. Her parents had been devout, for all the good it did them. Maybe the goddesses who resided here would listen to her prayers.
Galena started upwards, Peinao making gurgling noises as her head bobbed up and down with each heavy step. When the harpy realized where she headed, Peinao squawked, “What? You can’t go in there! I can’t go in!”
She stepped through the temple’s gates, and Peinao flew away with a remonstrating screech. Without the harpy, her body seemed lighter, and she sighed with pleasure.
The temple was made of marble and covered with gilt. The ceiling beneath the eaves had been carved with rosettes painted blue and red, to match the tiled roof. Delicate carved pillars, their capstones gilded, held the eaves up. Tucked into and thrusting out from every nook and cranny were carvings depicting the legends of the gods, and of the monsters they fought. Everything had been coated in paint or gilt. A harpy face, painted grey and ugly as Peinao’s own, glared at her from the back of a small stone bench.
Galena gazed with awe, and absent mindedly rubbed Peinao’s empty spot. A pity that she couldn’t see this place, too.
A priest approached her, his long chiton yellow and white. She waited for the man to grimace at her scared face, but his expression remained pleasant, emotionless, priestly. She found herself relaxing.
“Please, mistress. Remove your weapons and sandals before entering further. I will guard them for you.” He folded his hands to wait.
With a bow she obeyed, unbuckling her sword belt and untying her sandals. The priest accepted them, and waved her to a fountain for ablution. Cleansed, Galena approached the main temple building.
A priestess guarded the grand bronze door. More harpy faces glared at Galena, these ones molded into the metal and unpainted.
“What is your purpose here, woman?” The priestess said.
Galena said, “I wish to worship and beg favor.”
“Do you bring an offering?”
“Yes.” She twisted Zotikos’s ring.
“Place the gift on the altar, before the goddesses.”
With another bow, the priestess opened the immense bronze door, which glided smoothly on its oiled hinges.
Galena crossed the threshold, breathing in the scent of incense and flower offerings.
At the far end stood the brightly painted goddess Talataina, her face white, her warriors chiton gilded. In one hand, the divine being held a black spear, the other, a bow, arrows and sword.
Above the great goddess, standing on her shoulders, stood the smaller goddess Justitia, whose hands held a balanced scale and shield, her blue peplos luxurious and shimmering.
Galena approached the altar, and bowed five times before clasping her hands in prayer. She closed her eyes tight.
“Fearsome goddesses, please, I beg of you. Help me. Help me. Give me peace. Don’t make me kill this man. I’m so tired. Hear my prayers.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“Help me, Talataina, Justitia. See my plight. Accept my gift, grant me this favor.” Galena kissed the altar and pulled off Zotikos’s ring, and set it among the day’s other gifts.
She backed away, not daring to turn her back on the goddesses.
The priestess closed the doors behind her, and in silence Galena received her sword and sandals. Without a word, she walked through the temple gates and down the path.
At a small shrine a few meters down, Galena stopped and hid herself behind the painted building. Peinao fluttered by, but didn’t join — the blessed shrine bothered her.
Near sunset, footsteps approached from uphill. It was an elderly priest, who ritually cleaned the shrine and placed fresh flowers on the altar. He lit the ever-burning candles with a magic word, and then left.
An hour passed and darkness descended before another set of feet came, this time from the city’s direction. A man in a brown woolen cloak and short, discolored chiton appeared from around the bend — Zotikos, his pace slow but sure, his whistling jolly.
Galena kept silent as he trod by. He never glanced in her direction, his stout sandals kicking up dust with every purposeful step.
She didn’t follow after he passed, but remained in place. Her skin tingled, and she breathed deeply to calm herself. Galena flexed her arms and legs to remove the stiffness and drew her sword. She rubbed the familiar smooth pommel against her palm.
The moon rose and the footsteps returned, this time at a much faster pace. Zotikos swept by, cursing, his cloak billowing about him.
Galena stood, sword at the ready, and stepped onto the path. “Lose something?”
Zotikos turned around, his right arm out, fingers spread. An angular symbol flared with white light on his palm.
“Galena. Yes, I did, actually. You slipped me, you and your vile little companion.” He adjusted his cloak behind his shoulders.
Peinao screamed from above, “Kill him!”
Galena hesitated, unsure.
Zotikos spoke a word, and it was as if someone punched her in the face. Galena fell back, spinning, trying to keep her legs under control.
“Damn you!” She tasted blood. She’d bitten her tongue.
She didn’t wait for another attack. Galena ran for him, teeth gritted, and swung for his face.
He spoke again, his palms on his chest, and dodged her stroke.
With a scream she slashed and stabbed again and again, her sword singing through the air. She missed each time, as if his spells brushed her blade away.
One of his spells struck her in the belly, this time knocking her breath out. She collapsed to hands and knees, trying not to vomit while gasping for air.
“I’m sorry, Galena.” He stood above her, his breath coming fast. “I can’t let a murderess freely wander the roads. Sstopping you has been ordered by the Guild of Free Sorcerers.” His voice softened. “I believe the gods will forgive you, for the crimes you’ve committed against innocents. You were once an innocent yourself, after all. Times are hard and life is unfair.”
Her sight swirling, she tried to crawl away. He held up his left hand this time, which glowed red with a symbol she did recognize — the Mark of Death. Before he could speak the Word of Demise and activate the spell, Peinao swept down, attacking and clawing at his face.
“Die, male scum! You shall not kill my Galena!”
Galena gasped in relief, and struggled to straighten her weak knees.
Zotikos swung his arms in an effort to get the harpy off, but Peinao latched onto him and bit his neck.
“By all the gods!” He yelled and threw her, and grabbed at his bleeding neck. He lifted his hand, and as Peinao came in for another attack, he spoke a word. The harpy flew back in a puff of black feathers, screaming.
“Peinao!”
Galena stood and rushed for Zotikos. Weak, she missed him with her blade, but not with the weight of her body. Her tackle brought him to the ground. His head cracked on the cobble stones. He went still.
She rolled off of him and came to her knees.
“Die, sorcerer scum!” Peinao flew down, and landed on Zotikos’s belly. “You thought you were so good, so justified, in killing my Galena. Now I shall eat your guts while you’re still alive!”
Zotikos coughed and moaned. “No, please.”
“Get your sword Galena, cut him open.” Peinao clawed at the man’s tunic.
Galena stood and picked up the blade, and stepped to Zotikos.
The harpy hissed and growled, her teeth clicking as Galena waved the sword over him. She met Zotikos’s eyes. They shone in the rising moon light.
“Please, Galena. If you don’t stop your murdering, you too shall become a harpy someday.”
Her breath hitched in surprise.
He went on, “Don’t you want peace? To be free of this burden? Let me help you.”
“Don’t listen to him! He’s a liar, all men are liars.” Peinao flapped her wings.
“Help me?” Grief’s weight returned to her shoulders. She’d not felt it in so long, though it had always been there, hidden beneath the veil of rage and vengeance.
With effort he lifted his head. “I can’t truly help you, you must help yourself. That is the way of the gods and magic.”
Galena shifted her gaze to Peinao. The harpy’s dirty black hair, like Galena’s own, fell in greasy clumps, framing her pale, pinched, bitter face.
Peinao stared at Zotikos, her beady black eyes orbs of hate.
When Galena didn’t strike, the harpy looked at her. “What are you doing, stupid? Surely you’re not thinking those whorish thoughts again.”
Galena’s chest tightened, and she placed a hand over her heart.
“Swing your blade, Galena.” Zotikos set his head back down. “You know where peace begins.”
Galena sucked in her lips and squeezed them between her teeth. She tasted her own blood.
She loved Peinao, but the harpy was a heavy burden. Galena was so tired. She made a decision.
Firming her grip on the hilt, she swung. The sword whistled through the air, and sliced straight through her target.
Peinao’s head flew, shrieking on its journey, stinking black blood spattering, her bird’s body collapsing on Zotikos’s stomach.
Galena dropped her sword and came to her knees, her chest constricted. She ignored Zotikos as he began to thank the gods, to thank her. Instead she reached out for Peinao’s tiny headless corpse, and placed it in her lap.
“Peinao. Oh, Peinao, I’m so sorry.” Her vision blurred as she stroked the soft feathers. “You deserved none of this.”
She hugged the lifeless thing to her.
Zotikos broke the tension. “Who was she? Mother?”
With a sobbing gasp, she said, “No, my older sister. Killed when soldiers raided our farm. I’ve betrayed her.”
“No, you didn’t.” His firm, smooth hand grasped her knee. “That wasn’t your sister anymore, Galena — she’s been dead for a long time. That was a demon.”
As if those words were a trigger, Peinao’s body began to decompose, the feathers falling off, the flesh disintegrating. Galena grasped at the bones as they turned to black sand. With a puff of wind, Peinao was gone.
She sobbed, and her fingers dug into her palms. Tears, unshed for years, poured down her face.
“Forgive me, Peinao.” She inhaled deeply, and then said to the unseen gods, “I’ll never kill again. I swear it on my sister’s name.”
Zotikos groaned and she focused on him. She leaned over to inspect his head. Her voice croaked as she said, “How are you?”
“My head throbs,” he put a hand to his neck, where Peinao’s small bite wound leaked blood. “And this burns. The bite of a harpy is deadly poison. I’m afraid I’ll not make the morning. Perhaps it would’ve been better if you’d sliced me open.”
“No!” She grabbed his cloak. Panic crept into her voice. “Please, before you go, finish your mission. I deserve to die. Kill me, send me to Peinao. She waits on the other side.”
He met her eyes. “I’m sorry Galena, but I can’t. I won’t. Peinao will be waiting a long time.”
“Why?” Galena wiped at her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“Because my mission is complete.” His hands spasmed.
“So you’re going to abandon me here? You can’t leave me alone, not after this.” She sniffed again. “I’ve got nothing else left.”
“I’m the only thing left to you? Goddess of Mercy, take pity on this woman’s soul.” He shook his head and sighed.
“What shall we do?” She worked her fingers, twining them together.
“The only antidote to harpy poison is the saliva of a woman who loves you.” He gave a hiccupping cough. “My mother is dead, not that she cared for me much anyway, and I don’t even own a bitch dog to lick me.”
“A woman who loves you?” She touched his thin chest.
He shook his head. “Don’t try, it won’t work. You don’t even know me, let alone love me. I just tried killing you!” Zotikos gave a huffing laugh.
“Shut up.” She leaned down to his neck, and placed her lips to the wound. She sucked and drew, tasting Peinao’s bitter poison. Galena pulled back, spit out the bile and wiped her mouth. “There. How do you know what I’m capable of? What any woman is capable of doing? I did much in hate, now I will try doing much in love. Who even knows what love is?”
Zotikos shook his head. “You are insane.”
“Yes.” She took his soft hand, squeezing. Peinao would’ve called her stupid. “All we can do is wait. At least let me make you more comfortable. I owe you a debt and I want to repay it, somehow.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. As carefully as she could, she pulled off his cloak, bundled it for a pillow, and lifted his head. When he groaned in the middle of the night, she shifted his head to her lap, and stroked his sweaty forehead.
Galena listened to his breathing, felt for his heart beat. The rhythm in his neck was fast and light, but remained steady. Then, as sunlight began to filter through night’s shadow, his pulse became erratic. He thrashed in her arms.
“Hold on, Zotikos!” She raised her face to the sky. “I know I’m just an ugly murderess, unworthy of a favor, but gods and goddesses, help this man!”
His spasms became worse, foam came out his mouth. It took all her strength to hold him.
To the shrine she shouted, “Please! Justitia, if you’re what you say you are, don’t let this man die.”
The ever-burning candles flickered, and then went out. As the sun’s first rays broke the horizon, Zotikos gave a final jerk and his eyes opened as wide as they could. He screamed in agony, and then went still.
“Zotikos? Zotikos?” Galena briefly touched his neck — no pulse. “No,” she said, her voice a whisper.
The sun rose above the mountain, and Galena closed her eyes against it. She dug her fingers in his tunic, and forced down her tears.
There was movement in her lap, and then Zotikos took a gasp.
Galena screamed with joy.
He continued breathing heavily, but his hand grabbed one of hers. He whispered, “Thank you.”
Galena bent over him, hugging Zotikos to her. “No, thank you. I don’t think I’d –”
The sound of footsteps coming interrupted.
“What is going on here?” The same elderly priest who had attended the shrine yesterday, his yellow and white chiton whirling in the cool morning air, stopped at seeing them.
The priest set down the flower offering he carried and stomped over.
“Can’t you see this is a holy place? You dare fornicate like animals before the divine?” He eyed the shrine. “You’ve extinguished the goddess’s candles! Get away from here, blasphemers, before I report you to the guard.”
Both Galena and Zotikos stared at the priest. The old man scowled back, his fisted hands shaking at his sides.
From somewhere, hidden deep down, a feeling bubbled up inside Galena, one she hadn’t known since childhood. It foamed within until she couldn’t control it anymore. She burst out laughing, so hard she fell over, holding her sides.
Through her tears she saw the priest turn red.
Zotikos held up a hand, and said, “Don’t worry, good servant of the goddesses. We’re leaving.” He grabbed her hands, and tugged on them urgently. “We’re leaving. As soon as my companion helps me stand, that is.”
Obeying, she grabbed Zotikos by the shoulders, and yanked him to his feet. The laughter would not stop, and she wiped at the tears coming out her eyes.
Together — hungry, thirsty, limping and sore — they walked back down the mountain, to the bustling city life below.
