Kyros' Secret (Greek Myth Series Book 1) (4 page)

Five

Kyros waited nervously beside Chiron and Nemos as the sun broke on the horizon - the start of a new day. He was anxious, frustrated, and wanted to get closer to Thera, but not in this form. Not as a centaur, but as a man.

With a swish of his tail, he pawed the ground nervously, taking his sword from around his chest and handing it to Chiron as he waited for his transformation to start.

“So what exactly happened last night?” asked Chiron.

“I told you everything.” Kyros watched the sun rise as he spoke. “I covered my face with the mask so she wouldn’t know me and went to get a closer look. That’s when she caught me. But as far as she knows, I’m just any other centaur.”

“Oh really?”

Kyros turned his head to see Chiron running his hand over the back of his father’s blade. Nemos watched silently on, wanting to witness Kyros’ change. The sun glimmered off his sword for a split second and reality hit him. He’d made a mistake. He’d worn his sword and she’d seen it. No other centaur carried a sword, but a bow and arrows. He’d tried so hard to protect his identity and one foolish mistake may have given it away.

“Damn!”

Just as he spit out the oath, a ray of sun shone on him and his body doubled over. The pain seemed to be getting more intense. Or was it just that his memory was flooded with the elation he’d experienced when his seed was implanted in Ares’ daughter? A true contrast.

He tasted blood inside his mouth and realized he’d been biting the inside of his cheek. He struggled with his breathing and looked back toward Chiron and Nemos.

The young boy was half hidden behind the old man, his eyes round and his mouth a gaping cavern. Chiron comforted him with a hand on his shoulder. Kyros couldn’t help but think it was a mistake to let the boy see him this way.

His body convulsed and he fell to the ground. A humiliating experience to let anyone witness his transformation; but Chiron and Nemos were his friends. Chiron already knew all about it and the boy may as well learn just how ugly the truth was sooner or later. After all, someday Kyros’ own son would be watching the same scene: his father, half-beast, half-man, lying before him convulsing in pain because of the god of war.

A chill crept over Kyros and he found himself leaving the world for a few brief minutes, just as he always did when he changed over. He wasn’t sure if it was involuntary or brought upon by himself in order not to feel the last few sharp stabs of pain.

“It’s over.” Chiron’s voice drifted over to him and he felt his body shiver. The scent of centaur hung in the air and he wondered if this was the way he smelled to others while in his beastly form.

A sudden warmth covered him and he opened his eyes to see Nemos, gingerly placing a tunic wrap over his body.

Kyros struggled to sit up, all the while eyeing the boy. He saw curiosity in Nemos’ eyes and a false courage that hid the fear within him. Kyros accepted the clothing and got to his feet, wrapping the garment about himself.

“Do I have you to thank for this garment?” he asked the boy.

“Aye,” answered Nemos without giving any voluntary information where he’d attained it.

“I sent Nemos to the old weaver who lives in a hut outside your father’s kingdom,” added Chiron, still clutching Kyros’ sword. “She’s a blind old hag and doesn’t realize Nemos is not human; nor I for that matter. She supplies me with garments or tidbits if we need them and never asks questions. We hunt meat for her in exchange.”

“Well, it’s not a pair of breeches but it’ll do.”

“You’ll look like the rest of the Trozens now and won’t stand out.” Chiron handed him his old pair of sandals. The laces had broken during his last transformation, but the old man managed to fix them. He also handed him a leather tie which Kyros used to tie back his long hair. “Next time remove your clothing during your transformation and I won’t have to ask the old witch for more.”

Kyros surveyed his wrap-around tunic which ended just above his knees. It was the style of the Greeks and though he felt practically naked, he knew Chiron was correct in saying he’d blend in better. He grabbed for his sword, but Chiron didn’t release it.

“You realize she’ll know this is the sword of a king and not one of just a soldier.”

“It’s my father’s sword, Chiron. It’s all I have left to remember him by and I won’t give it up.”

“Your choice, Kyros.”

Kyros stared at the old man for a minute, then strapped it around his waist.

“I’ll wear it while I’m in human form and hide it in your hovel when night falls. Though I’ll be a weaponless centaur - something I don’t like in the least.”

Nemos tugged at Chiron’s ragged vest. “We can give him Phylo’s bow and arrows to use. Can’t we?”

“Phylo?” asked Kyros with a raised eyebrow as he donned his sandals and laced them up his legs.

“Phylo was my mentor,” explained Chiron. “One of the greatest of centaurs until he died in battle against Ares years ago.”

Ares again. Just one more reason for Kyros to hate the god of war. Kyros got to his feet and brushed himself off. His legs were stiff and his back hurt, but he was happy to be once again in human form.

“I’ll take them,” he replied. “And I trust Nemos here will watch over my father’s sword while I’m in ... nonhuman form.”

The boy’s eyes opened wide and he looked first at the huge sword swinging from Kyros’ hip and then back to Chiron.

“Well, what do you say, boy?” asked Chiron. “It isn’t every young lad that is bestowed with such an honorable job as watching over the future king’s sword.”

Kyros’ gut wrenched at the words “future king.” He knew now that with his curse he would never again be normal, let alone the future king of Trozen. He walked up and laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s not to get into the wrong hands,” he warned him. “And especially not the hands of my brother, Pittheus. If Pittheus gets a hold of the sword I’ll no longer have a reason to live. For ‘tis said by the oracle that when the successor to my father sits upon the throne with this sword raised to Artemis, the moon goddess, on the feast day of Dionysus, then the fate of Trozen will be sealed for the next hundred years.”

“I see,” remarked Nemos nodding his head solemnly.

“That feast day nears,” Chiron reminded the boy.

“And Pittheus is going to be eager to find it before then,” explained Kyros. “Without the sword of Trozen, the people will never accept him as my father’s successor. By right of the first born, Pittheus can claim the sword and make Trozen his.”

“Hasn’t he already done that?” asked Nemos eyeing the sword carefully.

Kyros laid his hand atop the sword, feeling the warmth of the sun already emanating from the large moonstone embedded in the hilt. A stone given to his father by the goddess Artemis years ago at her approval of his mission to unite the centaurs with the human race.

“He doesn’t have the people’s loyalty yet.” Kyros’ voice was soft as he thought about the kingdom and the people’s fate if his brother should truly rule. “He is the regent king until they find my father’s sword. Because of this, I’ve had to stay hidden for nearly the past year.”

Nemos looked up at him with bright blue eyes - the eyes of a boy who was willing to give his life for the better cause. It was at that moment Kyros knew Nemos would never be just a boy again. For his courage and his good heart had transformed him into something much stronger - a warrior.

“I’ll watch your sword for you, Kyros, while you walk the earth at night as one of us. I’ll do all I can to help you in uniting the Centaur race and the people of Trozen and bringing peace upon the land.”

“You’ll make a fine warrior,” Kyros remarked, then looked to Chiron. “Chiron has taught you well.”

Kyros found a friend in Nemos and could only hope his own son would someday accept him so easily. But with the daughter of the god of war for the child’s mother, he doubted it sincerely and was saddened by the thought.

“Someone comes!” Chiron grabbed his bow from his back ready to fight or protect.

Kyros heard the twigs snapping in the forest a minute later and cursed himself for not noticing earlier. But then again, his senses weren’t as sharp as a centaur’s when he was in human form. He motioned with his hand for Chiron to take Nemos to safety.

“I’ll handle this,” he whispered and took off into the dense thicket.

Thera plodded through the thicket, her ankles swelling from walking so long. She’d left her horse back by the turn of the river when the animal twisted its foot on rocky ground. She’d felt its pain and knew it would be torture for the poor animal to continue. So she’d thrown the heavy saddle bag over her own shoulder and started out on her own.

She had no idea where she was going and didn’t really care. Just as long as it was far away from her father and she had time to think the whole thing through. Her stomach had grown since the night before and the infant within her kicked like a horse. A pain shot through her abdomen and she lowered the saddle bag and sat to rest on a nearby rock. She’d been following the river for a while and knew it was time to stop and refresh herself.

Leaving the bag behind, she made her way down to the water. Kneeling down, she scooped up some water and drank heavily. The coolness on her hot skin seemed to turn to steam and rise before her very eyes. She loosened her bodice and splashed water on her neck and chest. The water soaked her clothes and clung to her skin. What she’d give to take a dip and soothe her aching body once and for all.

She listened intently and heard nothing but the birds. She didn’t catch the scent of any centaurs nearby and knew she’d be safe for the time being. Quickly, she pulled off her clothing and laid it on the banks. She slipped into the river and swam halfway out, soaking up the energy from the fish and other beings that made it their home.

She felt safe here. At home with nature once again. She was happy and playful, and for the moment forgot her troubles as she romped in the cool waters of the earth.

Kyros had his sword drawn when he stepped through the trees, not sure of what to expect. But what he saw was not an army of Ares’ men but a beautiful woman floating in the water on her back with her eyes closed.

Her midnight hair floated out around her, touching and caressing her milky white skin. The girl hummed an alluring tune and Kyros couldn’t help but remain quiet for a moment and listen instead of making his presence known. Such a voice was so entrancing he wondered at first if she was a siren. Singing, pleasing, luring him to his death as they’d been doing to poor sailors for centuries.

His eyes settled on her two full, bare, breasts poking their rosy buds through the water and reaching upward toward the bright warm sun. Like flowers waiting to bloom, the buds grew slightly as they warmed, and Kyros couldn’t help but want to taste their sweet nectar.

She kicked her legs slightly and he noticed the nest of curls settled between her thighs. He felt himself thicken under his tunic and was ashamed of himself for spying on this maiden and thinking thoughts that were too crude for a woman of her beauty and obvious pureness.

Then he noticed the small mound of her stomach that rose above the water with each breath she took and realized she wasn’t all that pure. Reality hit him like an avalanche. This was Ares’ daughter. The girl who’d agreed to be impregnated by a centaur so she could marry Pittheus and anger him when she bore him a centaur child. A child that would bring war between the Trozens and the Centaur race.

All thoughts of pleasure left him as he felt himself anger. This woman was no better than her father. Using a poor centaur and an unborn child to create a war. His child, he corrected himself. A child that he’d always longed for, but not in this way.

The child in her womb was conceived in a malicious nature. It was only a pawn that would lure so many to their deaths. This wasn’t the way he wanted it to be and he knew somehow he had to stop it. He couldn’t allow his own child to bring about the destruction of Trozen and the death of the Centaur race.

He knew now the only way to stop Ares’ little scheme. It was a thought that horrified him, yet he knew it was the only way to save the centaurs. The child - his child - could never be allowed to be born. Only by stopping its birth could Ares’ plan be altered.

Six

Thera floated on the calm waters, the only turbulent tide being the one that washed through her head. She was a murderer now, like it or not. She was no better than her father. She’d killed not one man, but two. She’d killed twice in one day and once the day before. What would happen tomorrow? Perhaps she’d kill off a centaur? Maybe a whole family … maybe the whole race.

She felt the hot sun beating down on her, burning her virgin skin and wondered if that’s the way it felt in Tartarus. After all, she was no longer an innocent. She was a warrior, a murderer, an executioner; and she hated herself for being all of them.

She deserved to burn in Tartarus. And now that she was human she knew she would indeed die and wind up there. If it wasn’t for the baby inside her, she’d kill herself right now before she found herself angered again and killed someone else. But she couldn’t. The baby was innocent through this whole mess. The baby was only a pawn in this whole game and didn’t deserve to die.

She knew now she had to live in order to protect it. The poor child was going to be the symbol of war. Once this centaur was born, he would be the icon for hate. Two races would feud and many would die. She was to blame for not using her powers to stop Ares when he thought to impregnate her in the first place. If only she had her powers now. Surely she’d be able to use them to her advantage in some way or another.

Thoughts filled her head of the centaur’s look of disgust when she refused him. But then she remembered the wonderful sensations that engulfed her when the beam left her father’s hand and connected her with the centaur. She felt guilty, ashamed and confused. She never should have enjoyed coupling with a creature she abhorred.

Her body tingled when she thought of how she rose to heights she’d never known were possible. It was almost as if she relived the incident. The warm sun lapped at her thighs, rising higher and higher until she felt her core coming to life. She found herself with her hand between her thighs, touching, stroking, wanting the touch of a lover instead of a memory of something that should have never happened without physical contact of any kind. She’d been cheated in a sense. It was her first experience, and not the way she’d hoped it would have been.

She let out a small moan and tried hard to remember what happened before she blacked out. Her memories were becoming more vivid with each caress. She tried not to think of her beastly partner. Instead, she focused on the pleasure, the sensations - the wonderful sensations.

And with her gift of feeling sensations, she knew she felt them more than a human would.

Her legs kicked to keep her afloat, the cool water rushing between them only exciting her further. She wanted to experience the ecstasy again but felt ashamed. She despised the centaur for being so low as to go along with her father’s plan. A part of her hated the creature for coming to her. Another part of her hated herself for enjoying the pleasurable feeling so much.

Then the face of the rugged centaur changed in her mind and she remembered something she hadn’t before. A man. Yes, now she could see it all so clearly. A handsome man with dark hair tied back behind his head. He was tall and agile, but the rest of his body seemed blurred to her. He was there. He ran toward the centaur. She saw him in her mind as he sprung through the air toward the beam and …

Thera jerked upright and got her footing on the bottom of the lake. She looked to the shore and saw that same man standing there, sword at the ready and staring right at her. At first she thought she’d somehow conjured up a vision, but when he slowly lowered the sword and replaced it in his scabbard she knew he was real.

The water was only waist high on her, and her breasts were exposed, but she did nothing to cover herself. She knew now he’d been watching her all along and she felt her face redden as he caught her in the act of trying to please herself.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked.

“Long enough to know you ought to cover up before some man decides to have his way with you.”

The idea at the moment sounded inviting, as she was still vibrating and in definite need of a man. She watched as he walked over to her clothing and held it up in front of him, purposely blocking his view.

She pitied herself for a moment, thinking she must be too homely even naked for this man to want to look at her. She made her way to the water’s edge and took the bodice and skirt from him. His hand brushed against hers and a wave of excitement washed over her. His scent clung to her clothing - nature, life and a musky essence as well.

She found herself attracted to it. She found herself attracted to him. She turned away and slipped the bodice over her head. When she bent over to put on her skirt, she caught him watching her, and he quickly looked the other way.

Her heart beat faster and a smile painted her face. Maybe he didn’t think she was so ugly after all. Maybe her twin sister, Harmonia, wasn’t the only one who could turn a man’s head. Of course, Thera had never known she, herself, had the ability. On Mount Olympus she’d stayed in the forests, alone most the time. And Persephone always kept her away from human males when the two of them came down from the mountain on the few occasions.

“I’ve seen you before,” she spoke as she slipped on her boots. “I think I know who you are and why you’re here.”

Kyros felt the blood rushing to his brain. She knew he was a beast and yet she didn’t seem scared. She had no idea of the horrible thought running through his brain to stop the child within her from being born or she wouldn’t be smiling at him so sweetly and in an inviting way. She was beautiful when she smiled. White straight teeth against her silken goddess skin. She was so fragile, yet at the same time so dangerous. He thought of their unborn child and wondered if it would resemble her or perhaps him instead.

This is what he’d always longed for in life, yet it was wrong … oh, so wrong. He wanted a woman to bear him an heir - to have a child he could call his own and teach the ways of the world. But not like this. Not in this way. He wanted to touch the mother of his child. Caress her, kiss her, make her one with him as they created a child of love - not of war.

He took in Thera’s beauty. Simple, natural, refreshing. She was like a part of nature, blending into the wonders of the earth so well. He found himself remembering the sensations of their joining. And though he’d never even touched her, he felt he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to do so now.

Her presence filled the air around him. He raised his hand slightly, wanting to touch her face and stroke her cheek. He needed to run his fingers through her long, dark hair. He wanted her close to him. Not only her, but also their unborn child.

He dropped his hand and turned away, cursing himself silently. He was possessed by madness. A desire so strong for peace between the Trozens and the Centaurs that he even considered killing to do it. How ironic. Killing to fight for peace. He hated himself for stooping to such an ill thought.

How in the name of Zeus could he even think for a moment he could harm this sweet, beauty of a woman or an innocent unborn child? And even if he could have convinced himself it was a just deed, he was forgetting she was a goddess. She had powers over him he could never combat. He didn’t stand a chance against her from the start. She’d said she knew him, though he’d never even heard of her. Ares must have told her about him. The whole thing was probably planned to trap him into being the father of a baby who would bring so much death and destruction.

“You … remember me?” He wanted to hear it from her own lips. How she knew of him and plotted against him. “You’re saying you know who I am?”

He felt doomed already. He wanted to remain anonymous in both his forms, yet she was saying she knew all his secrets. Well, he was the son of a king. He was well known, so why shouldn’t she know him? Unless she’d been living the life of a hermit, she’d know all about him and want nothing to do with him. Nothing, unless she was like her father, and would do anything to trap him into a plot that would ruin his dreams.

“Well, I don’t actually know your name.” She smiled and took a step closer. Her gaze settled on his sword and a bewildered look crossed her face, as if she was trying to recognize the sword but couldn’t.

“You said you know who I am?” He paced to distract her.

“I do.” She actually seemed happy about the whole thing. She had to be just as evil as her father to actually agree to mating with a centaur in the first place. “You’re the man who dove in front of Ares’ beam.”

“I am,” he answered. She almost sounded as if she’d just discovered this fact.

“I knew it! I knew I wasn’t dreaming.”

Her face lit up and Kyros couldn’t help but want to touch her again. Instead he kept his distance.

“You weren’t dreaming,” he reassured her. “I’m the father of your unborn child, as if you didn’t know.”

She grabbed his shoulders and pulled herself to him, placing a kiss directly on his mouth before letting go. She twirled in a circle, laughing all along.

“I’m so happy,” she announced.

Kyros could see it was true. His lips tingled from her kiss and if he wasn’t so angry at her, he would have wanted her to do it again.

“And it’s all because of you,” she added.

“Because of me?” Didn’t she mean because of her father and the success of their scheming plot for war and destruction?

“Because of you, I’m having a human baby!”

She headed over to the saddlebag and flung it over her shoulder with such energy and enthusiasm that he wondered if being pregnant did this to a woman. Then he realized what she said and he felt his heart sink.

“What do you mean by that?” His voice was barely a whisper. She’d said human. Human baby, not centaur baby. He felt his stomach tighten. Could it be possible? She really didn’t know who he was after all?

“Because of you, I now have the will to live again. Because of your seed that is going to be our child, my father’s plan will not succeed. And because of you, you wonderful man, not only the Trozens but the Centaurs will be safe from the war that would have destroyed them. Don’t you see? Now that I know I’m not going to birth a centaur baby, my world has changed. I won’t have to start the war my father wants. The god of war has lost this one. I won’t have to be a warrior in his army. I won’t have to kill innocent people on his command and most of all, I won’t die giving birth.

She heaved a big sigh and looked at him with those translucent blue eyes that held all the hope in the world. How he wanted to tell her she was right. How he wanted to believe it himself. But she still had half a chance her baby would be a centaur. And that half a chance gnawed at his insides, eating away her innocent hope bit by bit without her knowing. She thought he was her savior when he was nothing more than an accessory to seal the fate of the people.

She obviously didn’t know him or anything about her father’s curse upon him. She looked so happy - so alive, so vibrant. She’d kissed him, for Zeus’ sake. She liked him. She actually liked him for who she thought he was and it felt good.

It felt so damned good to be looked at and respected again. It was so refreshing to find someone who didn’t know his past and didn’t cringe or keep their distance from him when they saw him.  She liked him and had actually touched him. Kissed him too. His lips still vibrated from her kiss. How good it would feel to be touched again by a woman. To be caressed, cared for, and possibly loved someday. And he wanted this almost as much as he wanted to see peace between the Centaurs and the Trozens.

He knew he should tell her the truth, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe the baby would be born human after all. Maybe he could wait and see before he spoiled her hopes and crushed his own dreams.

She smiled at him once again, and he felt his body warm. He gripped the hilt of his sword several times, feeling the sweat beneath his palm.

“Thank you.”

She said it so gratefully he thought he was going to bust. She looked at him with the respect one would give to Zeus, when at the moment he felt like Hades himself. His jaw twitched as he swallowed the words of truth that lie on his tongue. If only she knew what she was really thanking him for.

“Save your thanks,” he growled. He made his way up the hill and she followed. “If I would have known I was volunteering to make a baby with you when I jumped in front of that beam, I never would have done it.”