Kyros' Secret (Greek Myth Series Book 1) (14 page)

“Why, Thera, I thought you would have figured that out by now. I’m here for the celebration.”

“What celebration? What are you talking about?”

“Thera, I’m here for your wedding.”

Twenty

Wedding. The word stabbed a pain through Thera. She sickened when she realized her father really meant to go through with this after all. Somehow she was hoping things would be different now that Pittheus already knew she was pregnant. She figured he would just refuse to marry her and it would all be over. But obviously, Ares had other plans. Plans that would not only ruin her life but end up causing a war after all.

“You’ve got it wrong, Father. I’m not getting married. I’m here as a prisoner.”

Ares stroked his short beard and looked up to the ceiling. “A prisoner of love as your mother would say.”

“Love has nothing to do with this. I’ll not marry Pittheus and there’s nothing you can do to make me.”

The room fell silent except for the shuffle of feet and hooves behind her. She didn’t dare turn around and look. She didn’t want to turn her back on her father.

“Well, that’s brave talk for a goddess who has given away her powers. Mayhap I can’t do anything to convince you, Thera, but I do believe Pittheus can make you change your mind.”

She sensed Kyros somewhere in the room now. She felt the hatred burning in his veins for Ares, and also the love he held for her. She turned abruptly and saw him being dragged in by guards. His hands were chained together and his shoulder was wrapped up sloppily. The wound still leaked. Behind him, the guards brought Rodas and the other centaur prisoners. They, too, were in chains.

“Ares,” growled Rodas. “This is your fault. Now get us out of this mess.”

Ares laughed. “No one tells me what to do.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted you,” sneered Rodas. “I never should have done your dirty work. I never should have turned against my own kind.”

“Such a touching confession, but I don’t care to hear it. I no longer have need of you.” He raised a finger and Thera knew he meant to kill the centaur.

“No!” shouted Kyros. “Leave him alone.”

“Interesting,” Ares said in surprise. “The way you stick up for each other though you hate one another.”

“Gag the centaur,” Pittheus ordered his men. “Gag them all but my brother.”

Thera’s heart went out to Kyros and she wanted to throw herself into his arms. They were going to use him against her. They were going to hurt him. She just knew it.

“You’ll either marry me,” said Pittheus, “or you can watch Kyros die right now.” They threw him to the ground and one man held him with his foot; another of Pittheus’ warriors held a sword to his neck.

She felt the dormant force of war within her stir. Her war-like abilities were being prodded and she’d never felt more like picking up a weapon and killing someone as she did right now. If she’d had her bow, she’d kill Pittheus and then anyone who dared to hurt Kyros. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to suffer and be humiliated. And most of all, he didn’t deserve to die because of her.

“Don’t do it, Thera,” cried Kyros. “I’d rather die than see you married to Pittheus.”

“Silence,” commanded the guard and kicked him in the stomach.

Thera’s baby kicked at that exact moment and she felt Kyros’ pain as well. She put her hand on her stomach and tried to soothe the baby. It knew what was going on, and that its father was in danger.

“Kyros,” she cried. “They’ll kill you if I refuse to marry him.”

“He’ll only start the war between the Trozens and the Centaurs, Thera.”

“I’ll start it anyway, brother,” snarled Pittheus. “I don’t need a centaur baby to spur me on. As a matter of fact, I don’t even want your baby at all.”

Ares slammed down his tankard and walked over to Pittheus. He had a look of disgust upon his face. “You mean to tell me, I went through all this trouble for nothing? You would have started the war on your own?”

“I’d planned on it long ago,” answered Pittheus. “But I was waiting to find my father’s sword and claim my right as king before I did it. Now, thanks to your daughter, Kyros has gotten careless and the sword is all mine.”

“Then on with the war!” hailed Ares, raising his warrior fist to the sky.

“Not yet,” said Pittheus. “First I’ll claim my title. The feast of Dionysus is in three days time and it will be then that the people of Trozen accept me and agree to fight this battle.”

“Good enough,” agreed Ares, nodding his head. “That’ll give me enough time to talk to Hades and convince him to give back my raven when I start sending him hundreds of soldiers.”

“Is that what it’s all about?” asked Thera, shocked to hear such a thing. “Father, you want your raven back and you’re willing to start a war and kill hundreds of Trozens and Centaurs in order to get it?”

“Tsk, tsk, Daughter. It’s not just that. You know I need war in order to survive. I am the god of war. When you killed my raven … let’s just say that was the frosting on the cake. I had plans for you, Thera. Plans for you to become a great warrior and fight at my side. A warrior princess. After all, I couldn’t very well get Harmonia to help me. Her mother’s got her so spoiled she’d probably complain she didn’t want to break a nail.”

Thera walked up to her father and reached her arms out to him.

“Accept me as I am. I was never meant to be a warrior and you know it. But I am meant to be a mother. And you’re going to be a grandfather soon.”

Ares stared at her and his cheek quivered. Yet, he did nothing to embrace his daughter who was asking for his love.

“Don’t call me a grandfather. I don’t ever want to be referred to as old. And I don’t ever want to be related to a child that was sowed by his seed!”

He pointed a finger at Kyros and a beam of light went out from him. Thera jumped in front of it, being knocked half-way across the room by the force.

“Now you act like a warrior,” Ares said to Thera. “Only you do it for the wrong reasons. How can you want to protect that beast?”

“He’s a man,”  Thera corrected him as she got to her feet, feeling every muscle in her body hurt from Ares’ bolt. “And when he turns into a centaur it’s only because you made him that way. Take the curse off of him, Ares. Take it off him right now.”

“No, I won’t, Thera. When I make up my mind, I don’t change it. I’ll never remove his curse.”

“Then at least save him from being killed,” pleaded Thera. “Do something to help him.”

“You want to save his life,” laughed Ares, “then marry Pittheus.” His laugh grew deeper.

“But if I marry Pittheus,” choked out Thera. “I can’t be with Kyros. I love Kyros and want to marry him.”

“You figure it out.” Ares waved her away from him. “I’ve got more important things to do. I’ve got to see Hades about my raven.”

With a flash of light he disappeared. Pittheus broke the silence.

“Well, I’m hungry. Thera, I’ll give you until after the meal to give me your answer. Meanwhile, let’s eat and start the entertainment.”

He gave the order to chain Kyros to a chair in the middle of the room. The guests were cleared to the side tables and the centaurs were brought down front. It was only when she’d taken her place at the dais next to Pittheus and seen the look on Kyros’ face that she knew exactly what was about to happen.

Kyros flinched and coughed, and Thera realized the sun was about to set. His change would come soon. Thera was horrified. She knew now that Pittheus meant to humiliate his brother. For there was no doubt in her mind that Pittheus meant for Kyros to be the evening’s entertainment.

Twenty-one

Kyros’ body wracked with pain as he sat chained to the chair in the middle of the room. He felt so helpless, so wounded and so angry that his own brother would treat him this way. But then again, Pittheus had always been jealous of Kyros. After their mother had died, Pittheus turned against him, not having had the attention he wanted from his father.

Kyros knew his father had always wished his younger son could inherit his castle and become king once he passed on to the afterlife. King Mezentius never expected to die so soon or he would have made some sort of arrangements giving Kyros his throne. Kyros felt certain of it. Pittheus knew this and was always causing trouble for Kyros.

Even in childhood, their games of war were real to his brother. Pittheus would fight with sharp weapons instead of blunted ones when they were in training. And more than once Kyros had taken the blow and felt the pain of the wound he’d inflicted.

But he’d always recovered, as he was a warrior and used to pain. But the pain his brother inflicted upon him now was more than he could bear. The pain of the heart. The pain caused by his love for Thera. Loving her so much hurt. He watched as Pittheus put his arm around Thera at the table and took it upon himself to feed her by his hand from his own plate. He picked up a piece of venison and popped it into her mouth. He then made a big show of licking the juices off his fingers and licking them off her lips as well.

He saw Thera cringe and back away. But every time she started to object to one of his actions, Pittheus would take her chin in his hands and turn her eyes towards Kyros sitting helplessly chained and wounded in the middle of the great hall.

He couldn’t help but remember their intimate night together. Her beautiful nakedness and the sweet taste of her soft skin. He eyed her breasts trussed up and all but popping out of the bodice of the garment Pittheus had her dressed in. He saw his brother’s eyes drop down her cleavage and he felt his stomach tighten. He didn’t want to think of Pittheus fondling her the way he’d done. It tore at his insides to even think of him kissing her sweet lips.

He’d get out of these chains somehow and stop his brother from looking at Thera like he was going to devour her. He’d stop him from touching her and most of all from making her his bride.

“Bring on the entertainment,” called Pittheus, and his men pushed the centaurs into the middle of the room where Kyros sat. Rodas and his men were bound hand and foot by chains. They had huge iron balls connected to their legs so they couldn’t run. Their legs were chained together so they could only take small steps, and they were all chained to one another. They had gags in their mouths and couldn’t even defend themselves with words.

“Bring on the archers,” called Pittheus, and half a dozen archers drew themselves up to the front of the dais.

“What are you doing?” asked Thera.

“Just having a bit of sport,” answered Pittheus. He then gave his men the order to shoot.

Kyros jolted as food just missed hitting his face. He watched in horror as the archers hurled rotten fruit and stale bread toward Rodas and the others. The centaurs tried to get out of the way, but every time one of them moved, they pulled to the ground the others that were chained with them.

“This is absurd!” shouted Kyros from his place on the chair. “Pittheus, stop this at once. These centaurs did nothing to deserve this kind of humiliation.”

Pittheus laughed and threw a piece of food himself. It hit Kyros in the chest and dripped down the front of him.

“This is all in good fun, brother. Just relax and enjoy it.”

Kyros’ anger raged within him. He knew his brother was trying to anger the centaurs enough so when he’d release them, they’d go back to their camp and round up the others and declare war on the people of Trozen. Pittheus had tried this before. But when the centaurs he’d captured and tormented were released and came back to camp, it was Chiron who talked the group out of declaring war.

But now the centaurs being humiliated were Rodas and his men. Pittheus knew Rodas was a rebel. If he wasn’t, he never would have stolen the sword. And Kyros knew once Rodas and his men were released, they’d come back to fight. He had no doubt in his mind this would be what would start the war.

When the archers got tired of throwing food at the centaurs, Pittheus told them to pick up their bows. Kyros watched as they picked up arrows and started shooting them all around Rodas and his men. Rodas fought against his chains as did the others. The fire blazing in his eyes told everything. Kyros had to do something to stop this before it was too late, but he was as helpless at the moment as the centaurs. And wounded also.

“Pittheus, stop this absurdity now!” Kyros exclaimed. “This won’t solve anything. War isn’t the answer to anything. It’s power you seek. War will only kill off the soldiers who are in your command. Without an army you’re nothing.”

Pittheus laughed and took a deep swig of ale. He banged the tankard back down on the table, the contents spilling over the edge of the cup.

“I’ll have a strong army, Kyros. Don’t you worry about that. My men won’t be the ones to die. But the centaurs will cease to exist when I’m through with them. And don’t ask me to stop my entertainment again. For my bride is the only one who can stop it. All she has to do is agree to marry me without a fight.”

“Then you’ll stop all this?” asked Thera.

“Of course.” He gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Don’t believe it, Thera,” called Kyros. “Don’t say you’ll marry him. Don’t do it!”

Thera felt more confused than she’d ever been. Pittheus was telling her she had the power to stop the centaurs from their torture and humiliation. All she had to do was agree to marry him without a struggle. Then the centaurs and Kyros would be free to go.

But Kyros was telling her not to believe him. Not to trust his brother’s word and not to agree to marry the man. By the powers of Zeus, marrying Pittheus was the last thing she wanted. But watching the centaurs and Kyros suffer hurt her more.

She wasn’t sure where this feeling was coming from. She’d always abhorred centaurs and shouldn’t care what happened to them. But since she’d met Kaj, her opinions of the creatures changed. She saw them in a different light. She saw that centaurs weren’t really any different than humans.

She looked at Pittheus who blew his drunken breath in her face. Then she looked over to Kyros who sat pitifully helpless chained to the chair in the center of the room. The torment of the centaurs continued and the people crowded around as they drank and laughed. The sounds echoed in her head and she felt a knot in her stomach. The baby lay still and she worried if it was all right. She hadn’t felt it stir since she’d been hit by her father’s beam. She put her hand on her stomach and rubbed it.

It was then the crowd became silent and the archers stopped their shooting. She looked through the crowd and saw just what it was that captured their undivided attention.

Kyros’ face was twisted and his body convulsed. He twitched in the chair in a contorted way. Then she noticed his clothing splitting. His muscles bulged beneath the material and his legs seemed to grow in size.

“Stand back,” cried a guard and the crowd moved further from Kyros. The centaurs themselves stopped fighting as they got to their feet and focused their attention on Kyros.

“What’s happening?” shouted a child from across the room.

Thera knew exactly what was happening. The sun was setting and Kyros was going through his change. She’d never seen it happen before and felt scared, confused, and pity all at once. It was torture for her to watch him as his hooves emerged and the convulsions wracked his body. The sweat beaded his brow and glistened off his huge, bare chest. His hair grew in length, tangling around his arms.

Thera’s own stomach convulsed as she felt Kyros’ pain. It was as if he was connected to her somehow. As if they were one and she was experiencing his transformation with him.

The women in the crowd screamed and the men laughed nervously. Kyros’ body from the waist down grew, breaking the chains that held him. A guard stepped forward, meaning to restrain him, but Pittheus stopped his action.

“No!” he said. “Leave Kyros be. I want everyone to witness what my brother really is. The man who wants be king of Trozen and take my place. The man who is not really a man at all.”

Thera’s head grew dizzy and her vision blurred as she watched Kyros fall to the floor helplessly. He shook and convulsed. His teeth chattered. She felt horror at having to witness his transformation, yet at the same time she felt love for Kyros. He never should have to be so humiliated. He should have the people of Trozen look at him with respect, not laugh at him and call him names as if he were nothing but a beast.

Thera jumped to her feet, knowing she had to go to him. She wanted to comfort him and hold him and tell him she was there for him. She stepped away from the table, but Pittheus grabbed her by the arm and stopped her.

“Just say the word,” he told her. “Just say you’ll marry me willingly and do your part in being my rightful wife and I’ll stop all this.”

Thera took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She didn’t want to marry Pittheus. She wanted to marry Kyros. But if she didn’t agree, Pittheus would continue to put Kyros through this sort of humiliation. That, or kill him. She couldn’t allow either.

“So if I marry you, you’ll let the centaurs go and Kyros live?”

“Just to show you I mean what I say …” He called a guard over to him.

“Yes, Pittheus?” asked the guard.

“Have the men take the centaurs to the edge of the forest and release them.”

“But - ”

“Do it!” he commanded.

“Yes, sir.” The guard motioned for help and they took Rodas and the others from the great hall.

“You see, my dear. I’ve already kept my word.”

“Half your word,” she ground out. “Now are you going to keep the rest?”

“Yes, I’ll let Kyros live. You won’t have to worry about your ex-lover dying by my hand.”

Just then, Kyros let out a tortured cry and Thera looked up to see his transformation was over. His body convulsed in spasms on the floor and his teeth chattered as he shivered. The people gathered around to get a closer look and the soldiers held them back.

Thera bit her lip to keep from crying. She wanted to run and comfort him but couldn’t. Pittheus was to blame for the humiliation. Ares was to blame for the cursed transformation. But no one but herself was to blame for not stopping all of this.

She put her hand on her stomach and felt relief as the baby stirred. She knew she’d always have a part of Kyros with her in their baby. She couldn’t imagine a life without Kyros, but then again, she couldn’t imagine a world without him either if Pittheus decided to kill him.

“I love you, Kyros,” she whispered to herself and then turned to face Pittheus. “I’ll do it,” she said. “I’ll marry you to save Kyros’ life.”

“I knew you’d come around,” he smiled. He then hailed the crowd and they gave him their undivided attention. “I want to make the announcement that Thera has decided to become my wife.”

The crowd spoke in hushed tones to each other when they heard the announcement. Kyros raised his head and looked straight at her. It was then she knew that she’d made the wrong decision. The pain she felt within Kyros was worse than any pain she’d ever felt in her life. His look was one of sadness, defeat, and abandonment. One that said all that he’d worked so hard for in his life had been shattered by her decision to marry his brother.

She had to go to him. She wanted to tell him she’d done it for him because she loved him and thought more of him than she did of herself. And that she would gladly give up her own life if it meant saving his.

She tried to go to him but Pittheus held her back.

“Where are you going my dear?” Pittheus asked. “I reserve a dance with my bride-to-be. Minstrels, start up the music.”

Some cheery music started playing but it did nothing to lift Thera’s mood. All she could do was stare at Kyros and feel the disappointment that dwelled within him. She also felt the rage he held for his brother and his embarrassment as the people laughed and scorned him. But try as she did, she could no longer feel the love he once held for her in his heart.

Tears welled in her eyes and she tried to mouth the words to Kyros that she was sorry. But she knew he couldn’t see her. By the way he shook his head she could tell his vision was still blurred from the transformation. She closed her eyes willing this all to be nothing more than a bad dream.

“What shall we do with the beast?” came the voice of one of Pittheus’ men.

“Take my brother to the dungeon,” answered Pittheus.

Thera’s eyes snapped open and she pulled loose from Pittheus’ grasp. “You promised to set him free!”

“I did no such thing,” he chuckled. “Our deal was that I let the centaurs go and let Kyros live if you were to marry me. I’ve kept my word and now you’ll keep yours. We’ll be married tomorrow at mid-day. Now come, as I want that dance.”

Thera didn’t want to dance. She realized now she’d been careless in wording their agreement and Pittheus had been a snake enough to trap her into marrying him. She had said she wanted the centaurs set free and Kyros’ life to be spared. But she meant she wanted Kyros set free as well. Pittheus knew that, but trapped her into making a deal that he alone would benefit from. What good was saving Kyros’ life if he was to live with his curse in the dungeons and be brought out for the entertainment each night when his transformation took place? She was sure Kyros would rather die than live like this, and she couldn’t blame him. She had only herself to blame for the torture and humiliation Kyros would now have to live with for the rest of his life.