Honestly, she was impressed by their numbers. The Greeks had amassed a large army in a very short amount of time. She pulled her gold helm off so that she could better see the faces of the men who were preparing for the coming fight.
To her right was the Didymos banner. She headed straight for their encampment. As she started to the back of it to look through their foot soldiers, a flash of bright red distracted her.
Athena …
She could feel that bitch’s presence here. Theirs was a grudge match that was legendary throughout the Mediterranean. One that had started centuries ago when Bethany had speared Athena’s chosen through the heart, during battle.
So who is your favorite I will kill today?
Bethany set her horse on the ground then slid from the saddle. She touched random Greek soldiers as she passed them, making them immediately clench with painful fear and mental anguish. They were not her Hector. They weren’t tall enough. So she didn’t care if they fell or not.
She came around a tent and froze as she caught sight of the infamous Didymosian prince, Styxx. While she’d heard his name countless times, she’d never seen him before.
Arrogant snot. That was her first thought as she saw him swathed in his expensive black armor with a bright red chlamys, and rigidly perched on the back of an exceptional black stallion. His regal pride bled from every pore of his body. Still, he cut a gorgeous picture as the light breeze ruffled his unruly blond curls that gave him an unorthodox, boyish appearance. Dark brown brows slashed above intelligent eyes so blue they matched the Aegean Sea for clarity and vibrance.
His stern expression made his cheekbones sharp and well sculpted. Too young for a full beard, he held the lightest bit of dark brown dusting around his chin and upper lip.
He was truly a thing of great beauty.
“Your aspis, young prince.”
Bethany’s gaze narrowed as she saw Athena, in the guise of a foot soldier, holding the red shield up to her champion who had no idea the Greek goddess intended to ride with him into battle.
So this is your choice? Really? An arrogant prince with no battle experience?
She’d laugh if it weren’t so pathetic.
The prince inclined his head to Athena and took the shield that held a black phoenix topped by a Greek crown of laurels and the words “I defend.” The weight of the hoplon caused the muscles in his arm to protrude and define themselves even more. He said something to the goddess that made her smile.
Athena handed him his black helm.
With one hand, the prince slid it down over his head then reached for his xiphos. What a pity she’d have to kill him. Beauty such as his was all too rare in the human world.
If only Athena had chosen another to favor …
Sighing at the waste, Bethany manifested her bow and nocked an arrow. She took aim for the prince’s heart.
Just as she released her arrow, he kicked his horse forward.
Damn it! The arrow flew past the stallion’s flanks and hit a tent post.
The moment it did, Athena turned to glare at her.
Bethany made a rude gesture at the Greek goddess. Summoning her horse, she flipped onto Herita’s back and flew away before the Greek goddess could return her fire.
The battle was starting.
Her heart heavy, Bethany glanced over the Greeks, hoping her Hector was safe.
“Well?” Diafonia asked as Bethany returned to their side of the field. “Did you stir them up?”
“Not as much as normal. I caught Athena’s champion and almost had him. But the bitch saw me.”
The goddess of discord patted her on the shoulder. “Have no fear, sweet cousin. The day is young. We will drink well on the blood of the fallen Greeks tonight.” Diafonia spread her wings and dove for the soldiers with her brother Pali at her side. She and her brother Strife always ran among their enemies to incite their wrath and create confusion.
Times like this, Bethany truly missed Apollymi. The goddess of destruction had always been her best ally in battle.
Oh well. They had a war to fight and she had a Didymosian prince to slay. “Get ready, Hades. I’m about to send Athena’s newest pet knocking on your door.”
She flew to Xan’s side and kept his arm strong throughout the day as he slaughtered Greek after Greek.
Until she finally sighted the young prince of Didymos again.
He’d dismounted at some point during battle, and was fighting on foot beside his men, with Athena nowhere to be found.
Bethany paused as she watched the grace and beauty of his brutal art. Someone had trained the prince well. Even at his young age, he fought like a seasoned veteran. Fearless. There was no hesitation in his attacks or blocks. He met every enemy without flinching or tiring. Indeed, he looked to be gaining strength with each opponent.
Incredible. Blood soaked him, dripping from his armor and skin, and still he fought on in a graceful dance of the absolute macabre.
“Styxx!” Xan’s unexpected bellow startled her. She’d had no idea that her prince knew Athena’s champion. And judging by the rage of that tone, they were not friendly.
Xan ran at the prince, slashing his way through the men who came between them.
With the sound of screams, cries and clashing metal echoing in his ears, Styxx drove his sword into the middle of the man he was fighting and had barely recovered when a mighty shadow fell across his line of vision. He looked up just as an axe was coming for his head. Lifting his bowl-shaped shield, he gasped at the ferocious blow that numbed his entire arm and forced him to his knees. It sent a piece of the wood flying out of his aspis to the ground.
After yanking the axe back for another strike, his newest attacker shrieked in frustration. The giant jerked Styxx’s shield, throwing him sideways. Somehow, Styxx managed to keep his grip on the hoplon, but the action felt like it’d torn his arm out of his shoulder.
Styxx rolled with attack, and landed on his feet to face Xan. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe as he felt the memory of the bastard’s hands on his body while he laughed in Styxx’s ear and taunted him.
Xan narrowed his eyes. “I owe you a debt, little quim. Your life for Estes’s.”
As Galen had taught him, Styxx clenched his jaw shut to keep from responding to the insult. “Never let the enemy in your head, boy. Your emotions will get you killed.”
This was not about rage, ego, or fear. It was war. Cold. Brutal.
Final.
One mistake and he could lose a limb.
Or his head.
Focus and skill were the only things that would keep him alive and in one piece. And while he knew he couldn’t die, he didn’t want to live with severed body parts.
Xan swung his axe down again. Knowing the power of those blows and the fact that he couldn’t stand long against them, Styxx dropped his hoplon and launched himself at the much larger man, driving his shoulder into Xan’s stomach and forcing the giant to stumble back as the axe slipped from his hands and landed harmlessly on the ground behind Styxx.
The Atlantean prince grabbed him as Xan fell, pulling Styxx down on top of him. “If you wanted to suck my cock, boy, all you had to do was ask.”
Styxx scrambled to get off him, but Xan wrapped his massive limbs around his body and held him tight. Panicked memories assailed him as he struggled not to scream out.
“I think I shall capture you instead of killing you, little prince, and then you can be my personal tsoulus until I wear your tight ass out and sell you to a dung dealer for his amusement.”
To Styxx’s horror, Xan slid his hand down to cup and grope him through his armor.
“Leave it to the flaccid Greeks to send their pretty little whores into battle.”
Rage clouded Styxx’s sight. Something deep inside him shattered and released. With a battle cry born of a lifetime of shame, Styxx twisted in Xan’s arms and drove his kopis into the giant’s side.
Releasing him, Xan cried out.
But Styxx gave him no
reprieve as he stabbed him again and again, until he was no longer moving. His heart pounding and limbs shaking, he climbed off the bastard and saw Xan’s pale skin and glazed eyes.
“For Acheron,” he breathed.
And for himself.
Turning from the Greek she’d just killed, Bethany froze at the sight of her chosen Atlantean dead on the ground. Shocked to the core of her being, she gaped as she watched the Greek prince retrieve his shield and move on to his next opponent.
What had just happened? Her champion had never been defeated before. Ever. It was why she’d turned away for a few minutes to fight others.
“Tough break, old girl,” Athena said to Bethany as she appeared beside her. “Now you know why I chose a soldier so young. He’s fearless and bold. Indefatigable.”
Bethany turned to punch the goddess, but Athena was already gone.
Fine, bitch … I’ll show you power.
She wasn’t just the goddess of misery and wrath. She was the Atlantean goddess of the hunt.
Bethany manifested her bow and took off after Styxx. Before this battle was done, she was going to bathe in his blood. She aimed at his head and let fly her arrow.
Just as it would have cleaved his skull, he lifted his shield as if he knew it was coming at him and blocked it.
No …
How was that possible?
She tried again. This time, he dodged the arrow, and the next one he cut in half with his sword.
Someone a lot more powerful than Athena guarded this one. It was an old power …
Chthonian?
If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was primal in source. But there was no way a primal power would waste itself on a young human prince. Not even one so pretty.
Summoning her horse, she joined ranks with her great-grandfather to go after Styxx and end his putrid existence.
Misos’s glowing green eyes widened in surprise of her sudden appearance. “What are you doing?”
She pointed to Styxx. “I want that one dead.”
“He must be Athena’s.”
“Get him, Tattas!”
He smiled at her. “Anything for you, my precious.”
Prince Zerilus bellowed as he saw his cousin Xan lying dead and Styxx moving away from his body. Intent on vengeance, the giant Atlantean made straight for the Didymosian prince.
Styxx knew something bad was about to happen as the men around him shrank back, including the Atlantean he’d been fighting. He practically ran away from Styxx.
This cannot be good.
He turned to find a mountain of a man charging him like a stampeding house.
Aw shit …
Suddenly, he felt like he was ten-and-two again and Galen was hammering him with blows while he lay helpless on the ground, unable to counter them.
The giant threw a spear. Styxx turned out of the way, but it passed so close to his body that it scraped his bicep. He’d barely lifted his hoplon before the mountain brought a sword down on him with enough force that he thought he’d broken his arm. No, not broken …
Shattered.
Hissing, Styxx rolled away then checked to make sure his arm still worked.
It did, but it wasn’t happy about it.
The giant lunged. Styxx stepped aside then brought his xiphos down across his opponent’s extended arm. His opponent rolled and met the stroke with his own sword.
Turning, Styxx stepped back. The giant was breathing hard, labored. That was his key to surviving this. While the man was insanely huge, he was a lot older, and he was tiring. If Styxx could just stay out of range and wear his opponent out a bit more, he should be able to take him.
But he’d only have one shot. If he missed …
He’d be testing that immortal claim again.
Lowering his head, Styxx charged in then darted back, making the man overextend and step quickly after him. As he did so, he realized that all the men around the two of them had stopped fighting so that they could watch them.
Great. An audience for my humiliation and probable death. Just what I craved …
Whatever you do, old man, don’t throw me down on the ground in front of everyone and feel me up before you kill me.
His worst fear, other than losing his head, was that someone might have seen Xan groping him.
Styxx arched his back as the giant made a swing that narrowly missed him. Then he brought his xiphos up. The giant stepped back and slammed his smaller round shield into Styxx’s bruised side. More pain exploded and his sight dimmed.
His ears buzzed so that he couldn’t hear anything other than his heart pounding in his chest.
Laughing, the giant stabbed straight at his chest. Instead of trying to deflect the blow, Styxx lifted his arm and allowed the sword to pass between his elbow and side. He clamped his arm down on the soldier’s forearm to hold the giant in place and dropped his own xiphos to the ground. With one swift move, Styxx yanked his kopis from his waist and drove it into the giant’s side, between the laces of his bronze cuirass.
With a ferocious hiss, the giant stumbled, bringing his head within Styxx’s striking range. Before the beast could shove him back, Styxx drove the kopis into his neck.
The giant fell like an oak, dragging Styxx with him. For several seconds, no one moved. Not until Styxx caught his breath and rolled from the giant’s body.
A loud, fierce cheer went up among the Greek troops. Gaping and confused, the Atlanteans remained frozen.
Still shaken by the closeness of that fight, Styxx retrieved his xiphos and hoplon, and waited for his next attacker. But no one seemed eager to take him on now. Rather, the Atlanteans shrank away as if terrified of him.
All of a sudden, voices rang out. “The Atlanteans are retreating!”
Stunned, Styxx looked up as the cry rushed through their ranks, and the Greek charioteers and cavalry rushed past the hoplites and archers to give chase. The Atlantean troops were running for their ships and pulling back. He couldn’t believe it. To his knowledge, no Atlantean army had ever withdrawn from battle.
He started to run after them, but he was too tired and sore to try. Really, all he wanted was to sleep for a month or more.
Galen laughed as he joined him and clapped him on the back so hard, Styxx stumbled from the blow. “You survived, boy. And in one piece, no less. Good for you! Good. For. You.”
“Um … thanks. Way to boost my confidence, old man.” Styxx snorted at Galen then grimaced at how bad his head hurt. The gods’ voices had been merciless during the battle and one in particular had been after him.
“Galen? Have you ever heard of Bet’anya Agriosa?”
“The Atlantean goddess of misery and wrath? Oh yeah, young prince. She’s not one you want to invoke for anything. Once she’s set on a course, she’s relentless. Why?”
“I heard her name mentioned by some of the soldiers and was curious.”
“Take the advice of an old war dog, son. Don’t even say her name in passing.”
Nodding, Styxx headed toward their portion of the encampment and did his best to ignore the horrendous sights, sounds and smells around him. In all directions, men were dead or dying. Their cries and moans were even worse than the voices in his head. The ground was saturated with blood and other things he didn’t want to contemplate.
For that matter, there was so much blood on him that it literally dripped from every part of his armor and even his nose. Though that might have been his. He honestly couldn’t tell.
As he crossed the field on foot, he realized that not all the loud voices he heard were in his throbbing head. The men around them were chanting his name.
Shocked to the core of his soul, he slowed down in apprehension. Why are they calling me like that?
Had he done something wrong?
From his left, a messenger came running up to him. He bowed low. “Prince Styxx? His Majesty, King Kreon, wants to see you immediately … without hesitation.”
But he was filthy. Covered in blood, swe
at, and dirt.
His father would have him or any soldier whipped if he dared appear like this in his presence.
He glanced to Galen, who winked at him then took his shield, swords, and helm. “You’ve been summoned, my lord. Obviously, the king needs to see you right away.”
Unsure of what to expect and extremely apprehensive, Styxx wiped his face and arms as best he could on his chlamys while he followed the messenger to the largest encampment where King Kreon of Halicarnassus waited inside his lush tent that was packed with noblemen and the elite commanders of each unit and city-state.
Wonderful. A full audience for whatever new humiliation awaited him. Shit … Over and over, he heard their insults from their previous meeting in his head again.
Xerxes sends his brat for us to watch when we have a battle to fight? What’s he thinking?
Where’s your nurse and tit, boy?
Should we burp him after he drinks his wine?
Wine? You mean milk. Those honeyed cheeks are too smooth for anything stronger.
Poor Galen. Yesterday, he led the strongest army in all of Greece. Now he’s stuck changing the pana for Xerxes’s infant.
One of the bastards had even flicked at his ear. “Just as I thought … you can still see the placenta on him!”
Holding his head high in spite of his rising panic, Styxx walked down the center past the bastards who’d belittled him until he reached the king’s throne. He fell to one knee and saluted him. “Majesty.”
“Rise, Prince Styxx.”
He returned to his feet. Assuming a soldier’s stance, he folded his hands behind his back and waited for the king’s leisure. Please tell me you didn’t see Xan grab my cock before I killed the bastard …
Or was it something even worse than that?
“I have been told by my spotters and generals that we owe this day’s victory to your sword arm and to the inspiration your courage provided to all who saw you fighting without flagging.”
Huh?
Nonplused and even more nervous than before, Styxx glanced around at the men who were gathered in the tent. Men who had mocked and insulted him just hours before battle, never mind their harshness the day before when they’d openly spat at and on him.
And not to wish him luck.
Styxx (DH #33) Page 30
