Clash of the Titans by Alan Dean Foster Read Free Book Online

know little of the geography of the world, Ammon."
    "The great trading city of Joppa," Ammon explained, "is part of the kingdom of Phoenicia. Surely you know of Phoenicia? You do not have the aspect of an idiot."
    "Phoenicia! Yes, I know of that . . . of this land." He gazed again at the unkempt arena. "But how? Phoenicia lies many days by ship across the seas from Seriphos. I have not been on any ship. I was lying by the seashore, warming myself to sleep by a fire, studying the moon."
    Ammon brightened. "Ah, the moon! That might well explain things. Moon affects the mind, you know. Well-known medical fact. Perhaps we'll think more clearly inside, out of its influence." He reached for the youngster's arm.
    Perseus pulled away. "I'm not crazy, old man."
    "Of course you're not," Ammon agreed. He threw a conspiratorial glance skyward. "It's just that eyes which can see the surface of the earth can't always perceive as clearly beneath rock and stone. If you follow me."
    "I'm afraid I don't, sir."
    "No matter. Just follow me,"
    This time Perseus didn't resist. Ammon led him through a series of once-grand arches whose delicate friezes were beginning to flake away. A magnificent charioteer with no head drove horses possessing fewer than the requisite number of legs. The reliefs were of plaster rather than marble, but to see such workmanship fallen into disrepair was enough to make an outsider wonder at the future of Hellenic art.
    Past the arches appeared a stone staircase that led down below ground level. Ammon took up one of the spitting torches and continued downward.
    "I apologize for all this dramatic finery and the theatrical effects I was compelled to greet you with," the poet explained. "I am forced to utilize them now and then to frighten away the curious. Thieves would gladly carry off what little I have been able to preserve of the theater though there is not much left of real value. Not much to them—priceless to me.
    "I'm an old man and it's how I protect myself. Trumpets and masks. Besides, I always fought better with words than sword." He chuckled at his own humor.
    "They think the amphitheater is haunted, that human sewage. And they're right. Though a writer first, I'm not such a bad actor. I've become very proficient at doing spirits and ghosts, for example."
    "I can attest to that." Perseus grinned down at him Then his attention was drawn to the weeds and roots poking busy green heads through cracks in the masonry.
    "Why is everything so neglected? This looks to have been a fine theater once."
    "So it was, my boy, so it was." Ammon let out a discouraged sigh. "The finest theater in Phoenicia, I dare say. But its current state is a sign of the times. The whole kingdom lives under a curse and the populace lingers always on the edge of despair. The people walk around muttering, 'call no man happy who is not dead.' "
    "Did you write that?"
    Ammon gave him a reproving look. "Hades, no. Though it's actually not such a bad line. But terribly pessimistic. I write comedies, remember? I am an optimist, though I know better. But I can't help it—an endemic condition. Anemic, my colleagues would say. I'm probably the last optimist in Joppa." He shook his head sadly.
    "They all think of a half cup of wine as half empty. I think of it as half full. There you have the difference between optimist and pessimist, my boy."
    "If you say you know better, then why do you remain an optimist?"
    "Because it's nicer. They all say I'm mad, though." He burst into a raucous cackle that echoed off the walls as they started down a flight of rotting steps.
    Perseus saw that the rock was dry and knew they were not close to a river or the sea. Like any good fisherman he'd developed an outstanding sense of direction. He decided they were now somewhere beneath the facade leading out onto the amphitheater stage.
    Soon torchlight revealed the precious relics Ammon guarded so devotedly. There were devices for raising and lowering painted scenery,