In The City of the Golden Sun, there is beauty ...

(From Chapter 9)

The boys walked down to the beach.  Neil ran ahead, delighted with the world around him.  He ran barefoot along the sandy path that led from Wiley’s backyard to the beach.  He slapped the soles of his feet on long, flattened, green stalks of grass.  He kicked sand into the air and let it slide between his toes.  He chased after butterflies.  He spent time picking small, red wildflowers that grew along the way.  He pushed a bunch of the brightly colored flowers against his nose and breathed in the perfume.  He smiled and laughed at the fragrance.

Wiley thought how easily this child had become lost in time.  No worries.  No cares.  It was as though Neil felt he would be reunited with his parents and his home simply by going to the beach. 

(From Chapter 9)

Keegan clutched the golden stem of the goblet.  He felt power melt from the cup into his hand.  He felt reunited with his family, his city, his time period.  He looked away from Wiley and out to sea.

As he walked to the water’s edge, he had the feeling of déjà vu.  All looked so familiar.  The blue-green water, the pure white froth that rolled itself into curls and tumbled toward the beach.  The gigantic black rocks that stood like small islands in the liquid emerald sea.  The brilliance of the sun as it broke upon the water and shimmered in all directions.

Keegan looked at the far horizon.  Clouds in many shapes floated across the clear blue sky.  He remembered spending long hours as a young child looking up into the clouds, finding shapes of things he knew.  As he thought about this, he absentmindedly noticed a whale floating by, then a horse, then a chariot.

In The City of the Golden Sun, there is war ...

(From Chapter 21)

Keegan saw it first.  He pointed toward the harbor for the neighboring village.  In an unmistakably agitated voice, he asked, “What’s that?”

Calder was the first to answer, “A ship!  Whose sails are those?”

The boys studied the ship.  It was huge.  Made from dark wood with ornate carvings along the railings, and a huge carved wooden dragon on the front.  The dragon had been painted green with red, orange and yellow fire billowing from its mouth.  On either side of the ship, toward the front, a blue eye had been painted, ever watchful, the warriors’ hope for protection.  A massive sail curved outward as the wind gave it life and blew the ship swiftly toward shore.  The white sail swelled, revealing a large black X with a red star in its center.

“That ship is from the island we trade with!”

Kingston interrupted him, “But it’s a war ship!”

Arthur noticed the teams of men rowing the vessel.  “Why are they coming here?”

Wiley looked behind him at the feasting and celebrating city.  The noise of celebration drowned out all noise from the approaching boat.  “Should we tell the men in the mines?”

Kingston was the first to answer, “No!  They’ll start yelling at us and call attention to themselves from the men sailing in on that ship.”

Calder spoke next, “If the men coming in on that ship have bad intentions, the men in the mine will know about it soon.”

Suddenly, Wiley ran from behind a tree and hid behind another one closer to the edge of the thicket.  He pointed.  “Look!  Look over there!  What is that?”

Calder answered him, “It’s a light!  It’s blindingly bright!  But where is it coming from?  What is it?”

The boys searched the landscape for a clue.  Nevin saw it first.  “Look over there!  Look!  Look!  What is that?”

On a mountain slope rising above the village was a huge object, a mirror shaped like a bowl on a moving stand.  The bowl was standing on its side, with the bottom center of the bowl facing toward the approaching ship.  The sun’s rays poured into the mirror bowl like streams of glowing hot liquid.  Focused, the sun reflected outward toward the ship.  As the boys watched, the sail ignited.  The red star lit up brilliantly; then turned to ash floating on the wind.  Shortly after that, the entire ship exploded into flames.

The men in the mine kept working, hearing only the noise from the Festival.

In The City of the Golden Sun, there is recreation ...

(From Chapter 23)

Keegan and his friends passed between the marble columns and filled a long marble bench that his father had reserved for them.  Keegan turned around to look at his father, then back toward the race, while he decided what to do.

His attention was momentarily captured by the chariot race.  On another day, the race would have captured his heart and mind and filled his soul with dreams.  Today, it simply distracted him by its sheer power and thunder.

There were five charioteers today.  Five men, five horses, five chariots, five sets of brightly decorated costumes flying by like a splash of thunderous color in the wind.  Onto each chariot was painted a unique shield design.  The same design was tattooed on the chest and upper right arm of the man driving the vehicle.

Keegan and Wiley noticed that their favorite charioteer was in the race: Tyrone the Tempestuous.  His shield, the boys thought, was magnificent: deep blue with the design of gathering storm clouds along the top and a black, whirling funnel cloud in the middle.

The chariots raced around the center island filled with thick, green grass.  Brown dust, thrown up into the air by the horses’ galloping hooves, floated over the island.  Tyrone the Tempestuous, in his deep blue chariot trimmed with black lines, led the group.  His horse, Rain Cloud, pounded out a thunderous war cry on the earthen track.

Close behind him raced Clayborne the Beast in his red chariot emblazoned with a picture of a fire-breathing dragon.  His horse, Fire Breath, pounded out clouds of smoke around his strong black hoofs, as though setting the earth to smolder.

A short distance behind, Maxwell the Marvelous flew through the wind in his black chariot imprinted with white stars.  His shield held half a moon, stars, and several planets.  His horse, Golden Fury, stretched his legs, glistening in the sun, racing as though trying to reach the sunset itself by dinnertime.

A fairly significant distance behind the other three charioteers, came Radburn the Bear.  His horse, Bear Claw, pulled a yellow chariot painted with the face of a bear on the back.  The two sides displayed a black shield containing a white bear claw.

Behind Radburn and Bear Claw, raced Duncan the Daring and his horse, White Wind.  A pure white stallion, White Wind had injured his leg earlier in the day and was having difficulty hauling the chariot as glistening and white in color as newly fallen snow.  Small clouds of brown dust rose up and sprinkled onto the chariot, as though the earth had been turned upside down, dust falling from the sky on snow that had always existed.

In The City of the Golden Sun, there are the warmth and closeness of family ...

(From Chapter 26)

 After eating a fish dinner smothered in thick, spicy sauce, Nevin and Neil sat around the kitchen table with their parents, playing a game of Chariots.  The game had been Neil’s idea.  After the family had removed their dishes from the table and his mother had cleaned the surface, Neil ran to his bedroom and returned with the Chariots board game.  He laid the decorated stone slab on the table, begging everyone to play.

His father had said that that was a great idea.  Since the chariot races had been cancelled along with the rest of today’s Festival, their family would carry on the tradition of chariot races on the day of the Festival of the Sun.  With a smile on his face and his chest puffed up with pride, Neil ran back into his bedroom, and then returned with handfuls of small objects: two dice and seven miniature stone chariots.

“Pick a color!”  Neil threw the chariots onto the table.

Neil’s mother winced.  “Careful, Neil, don’t chip them!”

“Sorry.  Well, pick a color, everyone!”  After a moment of silence, Neil blurted out, “Wait!  Me first!  I want the blue one, like the chariot of Tyrone the Tempestuous!”

“That’s fine.  Here, take it.”  Nevin handed his younger brother the miniature chariot made of blue stone.  “I’ll take the red chariot.”

Neil’s eyes lit up with delight.  “Like Clayborne the Beast!”

Nevin laughed.  “I suppose so.”

Neil’s father chose the black chariot.

Neil jumped up and down.  “Like Maxwell the Marvelous!  Mother, what do you want?”

“I’ll take the yellow one.”

Both Neil and Nevin started laughing.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Yellow is Radburn the Bear!”

Neil’s mother looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.  “And what’s wrong with that?”

Neil’s father leaned toward his wife, smiled at his sons, and stated quietly, “Radburn the Bear was losing the race, along with Duncan the Daring whose horse, White Wind, had an injured leg.”

“Oh, that’s not good.  What if I pick purple?”

Neil laughed at the suggestion.  “There was no purple chariot in the race today!”

“Well, I’ll take purple then.  That way, you won’t know if my chariot was winning or losing.”

Neil looked at his mother with a puzzled expression.

“I just like purple.  I’ll take purple.”

Chariots was a board game for young children.  The board held a picture of a stadium racetrack divided into different color squares.  The object was to roll the two dice, move your chariot game piece forward as many squares as the number indicated on the dice, and then follow the directions on the square on which your chariot landed.  The first player to reach the finish line on the game board would win the game.

Neil’s copy of the Chariots game was an especially nice one, given to him by his father.  It was made of marble with inlaid stone squares making up the racetrack.  The chariots were likewise made from different types of stone, and the dice were made from clear crystal with black circular markings.

Neil and Nevin’s mother picked up the purple chariot from the table and handed the crystal dice to Neil.  “Youngest first.  Neil, you go first.  Nevin, you go second.”

Their father laughed.  “Youngest first?  I guess I’m last again!”

Copyright (c) 2008 Marilyn Peake