Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
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 To his knowledge, no Atlantean army had ever withdrawn from battle.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, sweat, 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.
Their current thoughts overwhelmed him to the point he couldn’t pick out any single one. Several averted their eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze even in passing. “It was a battle won by all, Majesty. I fought no harder than anyone else.”
The king stepped down from his throne and approached him. “Yes, but you’re the one who single-handedly brought down the two highest commanders and greatest heroes of the Atlantean army. You’re the sole reason they retreated.”
Even more confused, Styxx lowered his gaze, waiting to hear how he’d screwed something up and embarrassed them all.
Kreon stopped in front of him with a stern frown. “Your father is counted among the most arrogant and bullish men I know. When I first learned that you would be leading your father’s army in today’s battle, I had a few choice things to say about it and none of them were complimentary to either of you. Honestly, I thought your father was mocking me, as is his wont. But it seems the gods have sought to humble my own arrogance. And I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you and Didymos came to our aid this day, young prince. I will be sending you home with gifts for both you and your father. Now come. I offer you my own private bath and the services of my most favored slave girl.”
For a full minute, Styxx was so stunned he couldn’t respond. Finally, he found his voice. “Thank you, Majesty. I am truly humbled by your generosity, and while I am more than happy to partake of your bath, I most respectfully decline your slave. While I’m sure she’s all you say and more, I have a lady who waits for me in Didymos and I would never do anything to dishonor her faith in me … I hope you understand.”
The king smiled and nodded. “I envy your father the heir he has raised. And it is an honor to know you, Prince Styxx. Now enjoy your victory this evening and the festivities to come.”
* * *
B
ethany hungered for
blood as they were forced to withdraw from the Greek island. She still wanted the throat of Prince Styxx, but she couldn’t be in another pantheon’s territory with her goddess powers. Not unless they were fighting.
Damn it!
“How could we be defeated?” Misos snarled. “We’ve
never
been defeated!”
Pali shrugged in disgust. “Did you see the Greek champion? Styxx of Didymos? Has anyone heard of this bastard before?”
“He was young,” Bethany said. “I saw him right before the battle began. And I almost had him … Ugh!” It pained her that she’d missed.
Repeatedly.
Bloody Greek dog!
Misos threw his shield down. “Is he a demigod? Or Chthonian?”
Bethany shook her head. “He was human with standard human equipment. How could he tear down our brethren? They have psychic powers … they should have cut through the Greeks like vegetables in a garden.”
Diafonia raked her hands through her dark hair. “How did he fight like an immortal?”
“Maybe he was trained by one?” Pali suggested.
Bethany ground her teeth. “Athena fought beside him.”
Misos scoffed. “That hasn’t stopped us in the past.”
No, it hadn’t. Bethany sighed as she saw their newfound champion in her mind. “It’s just one battle. He was lucky.”
Misos narrowed his gaze on all of them. “Then let’s see to it that the young prince’s luck runs out.”
As they started to disperse to watch over their troops’ withdrawal, Apollo joined them. “What in the name of Hades just happened?”
Pali gave him a droll stare. “We got our asses kicked. What were you doing? Napping through it?”
Apollo glared at them. “How are we going to take Greece if we get driven from their shores like spanked little girls?”
“We?” Misos raked a sneer over Apollo’s golden fair form. “
We
doesn’t include
you,
Greek.”
“It does as long as
my
people are fighting and dying. Especially my grandson! Which of them killed Xan?”
“Prince Styxx,” they shouted in unison.
Pali snorted. “Are you deaf, too? How did you miss your people chanting the little bastard’s name?”
Apollo’s eyes blazed with sudden recognition. “That little prick was the Didymosian prince and heir?”
“Where have you been?” Diafonia asked. “Obviously you weren’t here for the battle.”
“Of course not. I couldn’t let Zeus or Athena see me siding with our enemies. I only came after I heard you were retreating. And I have to say the news shocked me.”
Misos folded his arms over his chest. “Well, if you’d like some vengeance, by all means, remove your prince from our future battle plans.”
Apollo smiled wickedly. “Don’t worry, old man. I
will
take care of him.”
October 26, 9532 BC
Styxx sighed as he returned to his tent to try and sleep. But honestly, his head hurt so much he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to manage a single nod. Outside, his men and the rest of their Greek armies were celebrating fiercely. Styxx considered joining them, but he didn’t want to risk being mocked or rejected again. He’d had enough of being judged for things he could neither help nor change.
After Styxx’s bath, Kreon had gifted him with the fine silk stola and wool chlamys he wore and enough treasure to please even Styxx’s volatile father.
For himself, Styxx had only taken one thing. A small gold ring he wanted to give to Bethany when he saw her again. He wore it on his pinkie so that he wouldn’t accidentally lose it.
While she didn’t normally wear anything more than the necklace she’d given him and occasional bracelets or armbands, he wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t like other pieces of jewelry or couldn’t afford them. But he hoped she smiled over the ring.
Just don’t stab me for the gift.
He poured himself a kylix of wine. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flash. He jerked his head to find a beautiful golden man inside his tent. There was a glow to his skin that Styxx had only seen on two others.…
His blood ran cold.
“Are you a god?”
The man smirked. “Are you asking me … or do you remember me?”
Styxx’s stomach clenched with dread. No … it couldn’t be.
Surely not after all this time.
The wine cup slipped from his hand as the god’s teeth elongated. Styxx tried to run, but somehow the god held him immobile.
“Strange how swiftly time moves forward when you’re immortal. I had no idea that my little prince had grown into such a fierce, handsome warrior that he could take down a psychic army and kill two of their strongest heroes … one of whom was a demigod.”
In a completely different form than the one he’d had at the Dionysion, the god closed the distance between them and gave Styxx a cold, evil smile. “And you’re so much more beautiful and delectable with hair and ripped muscles.”
He grabbed Styxx’s head and jerked him against his side. “You have killed a member of my family this day, little prince. That is something I cannot and will not let pass. This time, there will be no bargaining. And I will show you no mercy.”
The Olympian dragged Styxx over to the table and threw him against it so that Styxx was facing a mirror where he could see himself and the god who held him down by the scruff of his neck. A tic worked in the Olympian’s jaw as he glared at him with potent fury. He ruthlessly pulled the stola up until Styxx was bared to him.
In the reflection of the mirror, he locked gazes with Styxx. “As you ravaged my army today, I’m going to ravish every part of you. And every time you feel me violently take you, prince, I want you to remember which of us is the god and which is nothing but a pathetic piece of human waste.”
October 27, 9532 BC
“Highness, the men are wanting—” Galen’s voice broke off at the sight of Styxx lying on the floor of his tent.
Styxx couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. Every part of him felt as if it’d been pulverized. He could only imagine how he must appear. Completely naked, he stared at his arm, which was covered with bruises and blood. No doubt he looked like that all over.
Except for his face. The god had taken great care to leave his face undamaged.…
“Styxx?” Galen breathed as he carefully rolled him to his back.
His breathing labored, he met his old tutor’s gaze. “Don’t tell … please.”
Tears filled Galen’s eyes as the old man pulled him gently into his lap, covered him with his cloak, and held him like no one had done since the night his father had cut open his arm.
I must look like total shit.
He hadn’t even known Galen possessed any kind of tender emotion.
Galen cradled Styxx’s head to his chest and rocked him like a child. “I would never betray you, my prince.”
Only then did Styxx relax. As long as no one knew, he could find a way to live with this as he lived with everything else that had been done to him.
“I should never have left you unprotected. I assumed you would stay with the others and celebrate your victory, but I should have known you better.” Galen placed a fatherly kiss to his brow. “I heard from the men that you felled the grandson of a god and I’ve seen their retribution before. I should have warned you, my lord. I am so sorry.”
Styxx patted his arm. “It’s all right … I can be taught.”
Galen gave him a bitter smile. “You are the best pupil I’ve ever had.”
And I love you like a son, boy.…
Styxx’s lips quivered as he heard Galen’s thoughts. “I know we need to leave. I’m sure they’re ready to pack the tent.”
“You can’t ride in your condition, Highness.”