Chapter 14
End of a Sword
Remus and Romulus were still in Brian’s memory spell watching themselves, hypnotized by the images in Mars’s fire. The images in the flames revealed Amulius, the king’s brother, leading his army of mercenaries into the palace courtyard. Amulius’ campaign destroyed half of King Numitor’s army. It took a mere half hour for Amulius to reach the throne room. He busted into the room where his brother waited patiently with his sword drawn. Amulius walked in as his mercenaries circled the king, blocking any form of escape.
“How kind of you to greet me, Numitor,” Amulius said smugly.
“Well, Little Brother, I have always been the more hospitable of the two of us.”
His temper raging, Amulius drew his dagger from his belt and launched it at his brother. However, Numitor was fast and rolled out of the blade’s trajectory. The dagger lodged into the throne where Numitor’s head had been. The dagger’s hilt met the wood of the chair with the blade fully exposed on the opposite side.
“Do not speak to me as a child, Numitor!” Amulius screamed with his fists clenched as his face turned red.
“Then do not act as one. You march upon my palace as a child throws a tantrum,” Numitor responded with an unshaken parental tone.
“Succession at the point of a sword is a natural order. I will not be a weak king as you were. It sickens me to watch you rejoice with our subjects like a commoner. You are a disgrace to royalty.”
Numitor sadly shook his head and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. “Only you, Amulius, would consider humility and kindness a flaw.”
Numitor looked past his brother at two soldiers who wore different colors than Amulius’ mercenaries. One man, dressed in red and black armor, had a red wolf on its breastplate. Next to him, the other soldier dressed all in black with a gold three-headed dog on his chest plate.
Although Numitor had never seen these soldiers before, he knew who they were and why they came. The God of War and the God of the Underworld arrived to witness his death. He acknowledged their purpose and sheathed his sword. Amulius, unaware of his divine audience, took Numitor’s action as a sign of personal victory.
Numitor fell to his knees and looked up at his brother, “I forgive you, Amulius. Even if you feel nothing for me, I still have a brother’s love for you.”
Conflicted, Amulius raised his sword. One side of him wanted the throne, while a small part wanted to spare his brother. Amulius loved his brother, but loved power more.
Numitor bowed his head. “I am an old man now, Amulius. I will not fight your conquest. Not at the risk of harming others.”
Amulius closed his teary eyes. He refused to look into his brother’s eyes as he ran his sword through him. With a thrust of his sword, Numitor’s body crumbled, soaking the floor with blood. Amulius fell to his knees next to Numitor, his brother’s blood warm on his legs. Suddenly, a slight touch on his hand startled him. Numitor, barely alive, smiled up at him.
Tears streamed down his face as Amulius wept over his brother’s body, “I’m so sorry it had to be this way, but I had to.”
Numitor removed a ring from his right hand and pressed it into Amulius’ palm. “Do not forget where you come from, Little Brother. I know your heart. Don’t let your mind corrupt it.”
Numitor smiled as he looked behind his brother. His daughter, Rhea Silvia, stormed through the door pushing her way through the mercenaries. She tried to run to her dying father but the soldier in black and red grabbed her from behind and restrained her against his body. She hunched over in his arms as she struggled to escape.
“Amulius, my daughter is innocent. Spare her life,” Numitor begged his brother.
Numitor admired his daughter one last time. He knew Mars would protect Rhea from Amulius by the way he looked at her. With a soft touch on his shoulder, Numitor stood up. When he saw the man who had patted his shoulder, he stared into the face of Death, the god Pluto. He was standing over his own lifeless body with his brother holding his cold hand.
Pluto placed a hand on Numitor’s back and gestured to Rhea. “Do not mourn for their loss, King of Alba Longa. Your bloodline is sacred. History has been and will continue to be written in your blood,” Pluto said blandly.
He walked towards the back wall and stopped, patiently waiting for Numitor to join him. Without turning around, Pluto raised his hand to beckon the dead king to his side. Numitor walked backwards towards the god, he wanted to take one last look at his family. When Numitor reached Pluto’s side, the god placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “The Elysian Fields for you, Your Majesty.”
Numitor and Pluto disappeared in a puff of silver smoke.
Amulius, not moving from his brother’s body, ordered two of his guards to seize Rhea. Mars shifted so his body served as protective wall in front of Rhea. He grabbed the handle of the dagger in his belt and called out to Amulius, “I will take her to her room. No one will touch her.”
Still kneeling in his brother’s cooled blood, Amulius waved his hand in agreement. Mars picked Rhea up into his arms and headed towards the door.
Before Mars and Rhea exited, Amulius stood up and spoke with kingly authority, “Listen to me, Rhea is now and will remain a Vestal Virgin. Anyone who touches her will not be shown the merciful death I have shown my brother.”
Mars’ blood boiled beneath his skin, heat surging from his body into Rhea’s. He took a deep, calming breath to stop himself from shredding Amulius apart with his bare hands. He bent down to whisper in Rhea’s ear. “You will have children,” he said, as if commanding her to do so.
Once safely in her chambers, Mars laid her on the bed. Rhea, with red eyes and wet cheeks, asked his name. He answered her question truthfully. Mars explained he was there to ensure her lineage continued.
Rhea sobbed again. As abrasive and cruel as Mars is, he felt sorry for her. He awkwardly sat next to her, unsure of how to console the crying human. He patted her back, but was unaware of his own strength against her fragile frame. He patted her so hard she slid to the other side of the bed, almost falling off.
Slightly embarrassed, he pulled her back to his side. He gently stroked her long dark brown hair to calm her. He told her he had to leave for tonight but would return for her. He then asked her to meet him in the woods the following night at midnight. Rhea nodded in agreement.
The next night, Rhea did as Mars requested. She wrapped her arms around her waist as butterflies zoomed in her stomach. Torn between grief for her father and excitement of the unknown, she met Mars by the outer line of the forest where he took her hand and led her deep into the forest. They walked in-between the trees, listening to the night owls and enjoying each other’s company.
Four months passed where Rhea snuck out of the palace to meet Mars. On the night of the autumnal equinox, Rhea dressed in traditional black ceremonial robes in mourning for the god Ceres, who lost her daughter Proserpina to Pluto every fall. The black robes clung to her body, emphasizing her often hidden curves. To Mars, she looked like a goddess fit to marry War. They headed into the woods, as usual, but this night Mars led her to a small pond surrounded by Willow trees.
On the banks of the pond, he pulled her close to him, despite her being a Vestal Virgin sworn to chastity. Mars waved his hand and a bed of soft moss emerged from the ground. He walked her over to the bed and the two lied together…
Unbeknownst to Rhea and Mars, Amulius had followed them into the woods. He noticed her leaving the ceremony early and headed down the stone path after her. Amulius stalked the couple to the pond, where he found them conjoined under the moonlight. Outraged, Amulius stormed back to the palace where he waited for her return.
Upon Rhea’s return, royal guards arrested and confined her to the palace temple. Amulius ordered that food and water be withheld from his niece as punishment for her lewd behavior. However, the gods favored Rhea and provided her with sustenance every night and every morning.
When Amulius return
ed eight nights later, he expected to see her weak and begging for forgiveness. Instead, he witnessed the impossible. She appeared four months pregnant, lounging on her bed with a plate full of meats and fruits resting on her belly.
In a fit of rage, Amulius drew his sword. He would get rid of this abomination at once. When he charged Rhea, a purple light burst from her belly, knocking him to the floor.
He knew that such a quick pregnancy could only result in a demigod, but he had not considered the power it may hold. “This child could only be an offspring of one of the twelve original gods. Who fathered this child?” Amulius shouted at Rhea.
Unafraid of her uncle, Rhea casually responded, “Children. I carry twins. They are the children of Mars and you will never defeat them. They are protected by the entire pantheon.”
Amulius gathered his composure. “They will not see their first birthday.”
A week later on the last day of the autumnal equinox ceremony, a ball of red light fell from the sky and hovered over Rhea’s engorged belly. She believed it to be a gift for her children from Mars. The light fell into her belly and she immediately went into labor. An hour passed until a baby boy had been born. Rhea held the newborn in her arms, relieved from the pain when another burst of contractions coiled in her abdomen.
Minutes later, she gave birth to a second baby boy. The twins differed from other mortals right from the start. They did not cry and silently peacefully sucked their thumbs. One of the twins briefly radiated a red light, like the ball that sunk into her belly. Rhea had given birth to twin royalty, the true Kings of Alba Longa.
Rhea had only held her children a few minutes before Amulius stormed into the room and ripped them from her arms. A guard accompanied Amulius into the temple carrying a basket. Amulius then bundled the twins in the basket and ordered two guards to drag Rhea to the river so she could watch her children die. She had not even named them. Rhea fought back in any way she could, kicking and screaming, until Amulius backhanded her, sending her crashing to the floor.
“That is enough! You will not escape your punishment.” He turned to the guards in charge of restraining her and told them to bind her arms and gag her.
The guards dragged her to the riverbanks while Amulius stood off to the side and watched as the basket was placed in the violent waters of the Tiber. His worries of being overthrown by demigods would drown with the twins…
The Phoinix: Age of Demigods Page 31
