Captive Bride 2; Daughter of Sparta

by Andromeda

  She hung her head, fighting against tears that threatened to spill. “I know…what I promised…” she said softly.

  “And you always say you never break a promise,” he said accusingly to her. “Or was that another lie, too?”

  “Abeeku…” she said. “I…I am so confused…”

  “Have you forgotten who he is?” Abeeku asked. “It was his father that killed yours!”

  “And it was my mother that killed his father in retaliation!” she snapped. “So I would say the debt was paid!”

  “Do you even hear yourself?” Abeeku asked. “Do you hear what he has done to you? He has turned you against those that love you.” He gripped her arms tenderly. “He has turned you…against me.”

  She looked into his eyes, his warm brown eyes, and saw the man that she loved, but in her mind, thoughts were swimming. She couldn’t blame Darius for the sins of his father; the exact same way he couldn’t blame her for the sins of her mother. No one was perfect, not in the slightest.

  Pulling away, she walked to a nearby table and poured herself some wine, needing to clear her mind. The wine tasted sweet, so she poured herself another cup; only too late did she realize her mistake.

  The poison stuck with lightning quickness. Her body seized and she let out a loud gasp, before crumbling to the ground. Her body felt as if ants were eating her alive, as if lions were tearing her apart. Foam bubbled in her mouth, burning her throat. It wasn’t until Hera roared in warning did Abeeku notice her body on the ground. He rushed to her, picking her up in his arms and pressing his ear to her chest to hear her heartbeat. It was there, but thin and soft, not the strong beat he was used to hearing.

  “Please, Ancestors, no…” he whispered, putting her on the bed. “Don’t take her from me.”

  Rushing to the doors, he threw them open and yelled for help. It didn’t take long for servants to come running, and when they did, he ordered them to find a healer, to find Zenobia, to find someone. When they had their orders, they ran off, while Abeeku in turn moved back to Philomena’s side. He didn’t know how much time passed, nor did he care; his eyes were on her.

  “My lord,” a deep voice said at his side. “My Lord, please move aside!”

  Abeeku lifted his head and saw the healer. Quickly, he did as instructed as the healer got to work. Meanwhile, he was dragged out of the chambers by Matthias, who stood outside with the rest of the family.

  “What the hell happened?” Matthias demanded. “What happened to my sister?”

  Abeeku rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I…I don’t know. We…we were arguing…next thing I know, she was foaming at the mouth.”

  Zenobia arched an eyebrow. “Allow me to get this straight. You just so happened to be arguing and then all of a sudden she was foaming at the mouth?”

  “No…” Abeeku said with a slight frown. “Not…really like that. She took a sip of wine…”

  Zenobia and Matthias exchanged glances and then turned back to him. “Show us what you mean.”

  Abeeku slipped back into the chambers, only to quickly return with a goblet and the jug of wine. Zenobia took the goblet while Matthias took the jug. Both of them inspected the two for several moments until they lifted their heads.

  “Poison,” Zenobia said.

  Abeeku frowned. “I could clearly see that!”

  “No, you ignorant soldier,” Zenobia snapped. “You didn’t let me finish. This poison wasn’t in the wine. It was on the cup.”

  She turned the goblet to them and showed him what she had found. Around the rim of the goblet was a thin coat of a green, paste-like substance. Most of it was gone, but some were still there.

  “You were right…” Abeeku gasped. “Poison.”

  “But who would want to kill Mena?” Matthias asked.

  Abeeku turned to where he saw Darius rushing toward them; he glared. “I can give you a single guess.” He took the goblet from Zenobia, and met the young man halfway, shoving the goblet into his face. “You think this is funny?” he growled.

  Darius looked at Abeeku with confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You try and poison her because she’d rather be with me than you?!” Abeeku yelled. “That is regicide!”

  “Abeeku, stand down,” Zenobia ordered as she and Matthias walked over.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Darius persisted. “I just heard the news and came…”

  “I don’t believe you,” Abeeku said, pointing a finger at Darius’s chest. “We all know that you did this in order to get back at her!”

  “I would never hurt her!” Darius snapped, anger rising within him. “How would this serve me? How would this serve Persia? You still have heirs in this kingdom! If Philomena dies, then so does the allegiance. Do you really think that I want to have wars again? My people are tired!”

  Zenobia, the only person who was thinking with a clear head at this point, stepped forward. She looked into Darius’s blue eyes, her own silver ones sharp. “I will ask you this once: did you try to poison my daughter?” she asked.

  Darius wanted to flinch, he wanted to look away from her piercing gaze, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a deep breath. “No,” he said flatly.

  Zenobia nodded and pulled away. “He is not the one we are looking for.”

  Abeeku’s jaw dropped. “B…But, my lady!” he protested. “Are we really going to take his…”

  “Abeeku, you will hold your tongue before I have it cut out of your mouth,” Zenobia said flatly. “I said that he didn’t do it, so I demand to not be questioned. Am I understood?”

  Abeeku bowed his head; he knew he was on dangerous ground. “Yes…my lady…”

  For two hours, they all stood outside, no one wanted to leave. When the healer finally emerged from the chambers, he went to Zenobia, though everyone crowded around her.

  “Her Highness was poisoned,” the healer said. “However, we got to it in time; they will both make a full recovery.”

  “Do you know what kind of poison it was?” Abeeku asked.

  “It was something that afflicted Her Highness’s stomach,” the healer explained. “That is why she was foaming at the mouth. We are searching for such things that could do this. However, Her Highness proved that she was strong. They will fully recover.”

  Zenobia’s ears pricked. “You are repeatedly saying ‘they’. Who is ‘they’?”

  The healer smiled and turned to Darius. “Her Highness is with child, my lord. While we were doing an examination, it confirmed it. Congratulations.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “With child?” Dorian said in shock. “How is such a thing possible?”

  Zenon frowned. “Truly, Dorian, you of all people should know that by now.”

  Dorian glared at him. “That wasn’t what I meant, Zenon, you know that. What I meant was, how is she with child? She hasn’t lain with Darius. We would all know that.”

  Zenon smirked. “She hasn’t…”

  Dorian frowned. However, it took him only moments to understand what was being said. He grinned widely. “It isn’t his…”

  “No, it is not,” Zenon said. “This works so highly in our favor…”

  Dorian nodded, his mind working. Jealousy rose within him, noting that Abeeku was the first to get Philomena with child, yet he also felt happy, for her at least. It showed that she was fertile, and he needed a fertile bride if he was to be king. It also signed the death warrant for Abeeku, for now that he had done his duty, Dorian had no use for him anymore. The Persian might be more difficult to get rid of as he actually had a job here. Abeeku could be easily replaced.

  “So, what is the plan?” Dorian asked.

  “I say keep doing what you are doing,” Zenon said. “Whatever that is.”

  Dorian smirked, ideas already swarming in his mind. “Do not worry my friend…I already have a plan set in motion…”

  “And I doubt you will share it with me,” Zenon said with a frown.

  “How man
y times must I tell you that it’s for your protection?” Dorian asked. “You know we both have our different jobs. You will continue to spread your influence through the council, and I will continue to do what I always do.”

  Zenon nodded, but he frowned. He had a feeling at the back of his mind that Dorian had a secret agenda, but he couldn’t prove it. He knew that Dorian wasn’t telling him everything that he had in mind, but Zenon knew he had to play it by ear. He didn’t know what Dorian had planned, but he wasn’t going to take the fall if they got caught. He had his own fail safe in mind. He bowed to the younger man and walked off.

  Dorian watched him leave and then he too left the room. He walked to a darkened room and stepped inside. He looked around, his eyes searching, and when he saw movement, he knew his contact was there. A woman stepped forward, dressed in a dark cloak, her hood was pulled down over her face, but he knew who she was.

  “What information have you brought to me?” he asked her.

  “I have done what you have instructed,” the woman said, “And put the paste on her goblet.”

  “And no one suspects you?” he asked.

  “No, my lord,” the woman said, shaking her head. “No one would ever suspect me. I passed the goblet to a servant. If anyone searched, all fingers would point to her.”

  Dorian smirked. “Excellent. And the child? Did it hurt the child?”

  The woman lifted her head, confused. “Why would you care…”

  “Answer my question,” he barked.

  The woman was startled. “N…No, my lord…the child is fine.”

  He nodded. “Good. You know what you must do next. Do not fail me.”

  The woman bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Abeeku lay with his head on Philomena’s abdomen, his ear to her belly. He was trying to hear a heartbeat, his soldier’s ears straining for anything. But, of course, he couldn’t hear anything; the baby was much too small to even move, but he wished that he could. They had done it; they had created a legacy; his seed had planted and a new life was growing within the love of his life.

  He placed a chaste kiss on her belly and sighed, stroking the flesh. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered. “I will always be here for you…”

  Philomena, who was asleep, was woken by the feel of his fingers and yawned, rubbing her eyes. “Abeeku?” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had to come and see you,” he said. “Before…I had to leave.”

  Her lip quivered as she remembered where he was going. War. War had come to Sparta on the heels of Darius. His city-state of Macedonia had rebelled under the control of his young brother, and a part of the marriage agreement was that if either Kingdom went to war, the other kingdom had the option to support it. Under much consideration with the Council, they all agreed to go to war. However, this was bittersweet as Abeeku must leave as head General.

  “But the sun hasn’t risen yet,” she whispered. “Do you…have to go now?”

  “I must go see to my men,” he said, sadly. “But I will see you at the official farewell.”

  “I am the Queen of Sparta,” she said. “I command the lives of thousands of people. But I cannot command you to stay by my side.”

  “I’m afraid not,” he said, a sad smile on his lips. “But I will come back; I always come back to you.”

  She nodded and he pressed his forehead to hers. Tears streamed down both their cheeks, and it didn’t bother her. She believed that it takes a true man to show his inner feelings. He held her for several more moments and then he let her go reluctantly, kissed her cheeks, and then pulled away to leave. Stopping at the door, he looked at her one last time, before he left.

  She fell onto the pillows crying, unable to stop herself. There was something in this, something in the air that made her fearful. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something bad was going to happen in this war.

  When it came time for the official farewell, she got up and dressed. The servants put makeup on her face to try and hide the puffiness of her eyes, the tear tracks that ran down her cheeks. Flanked by the royal guards, she walked down the lines, and gave each soldier a gentle kiss on the lips in farewell.

  When she reached Abeeku, she fought against fresh tears and gave him a deeper kiss, before she then turned to Darius. The young king looked magnificent in his armor, his hair fanned out in the breeze, which made him look like the young lion that was his sigil. He jumped down from his black horse and bowed before her before he took her hands in his and kissed him.

  “We will have victory,” he said softly to her. “I promise you that, my lady.”

  She blinked back tears from her eyes, as she felt sadness that he was leaving; after all, he was her husband. “Come…back to me,” she whispered. “The people need their king.”

  Darius nodded and swung himself back upon his horse and raised his sword. “FOR SPARTA! FOR PERSIA!” he bellowed.

  “FOR SPARTA! FOR PERSIA!” the soldiers chanted back. “FOR SPARTA! FOR PERSIA!”

  Philomena watched as they all filed out, dust kicked up from the horses and their sandals. At her side, Zeta held her hand; the young beauty was frightened by all that was happening.

  “They will come back…right, Mena?” she asked.

  Philomena nodded. “Yes…” she whispered. “They will.”

  *******

  The battles were terrible. Neither side wanted to give. The Persian/Spartan army engaged the Macedonian army early on, led by a general under the command of Darius’s younger brother. This annoyed Darius to no end, mainly because he knew his younger brother was being used by the Council. He had gotten suspicious when their letters were coming less and less. He knew that something was up, and through his spies, he found out.

  The Council had taken his absence to try and affirm their power in Persia. They had gotten his younger brother and were planning to use him as a puppet as they wanted complete control of the Persian Empire, but had no right to it because he didn’t have royal blood. And so, since he was gone, they turned to the next logical person: his younger brother.

  The battles were hard and bloody, but Darius had to admit that the Spartan warriors were as good as, if not better than, his own Persian warriors. He had his army of Immortals, but as he watched the Spartans in battle, he could see why they were considered to be the best warriors in the world.

  His eyes were mainly on Abeeku, however, who fought with a ferocity that he hadn’t seen before. He fought as if he had something to lose, and in reality, he did. He had a lover back in Sparta; he had a future child on the way. There wasn’t a reason why he shouldn’t fight with all he was worth. He had to fight, in order to get back to them. How Darius envied him.

  Darius wished that he had what the soldier had, but he knew that as a king, he would rarely have pure happiness. People always would want something from him, and because he was Persian, he didn’t truly believe in loving a single woman; the same way the Greeks did. And yet…he could feel something whenever he was in the presence of Philomena. He hadn’t been able to get the kiss out of his mind either…

  Later that night, as the soldiers rested, he called Abeeku to his tent in order to talk to the young general. When he entered, the two men looked at each other, both stood on end in a tug of war game with Philomena in the middle.

  “Can I offer you something to drink, General?” Darius asked, nodding to a table with food.

  Abeeku shook his head. “I have already eaten. Besides, I do not know if there is poison within it.”

  Darius frowned. “I have told you, I did not poison Philomena. I could never poison her. My kingdom would have no use for her death.”

  “Is that all you see her as?” Abeeku asked. “An item for you to use? Do you know the kind of life she has had growing up?”

  Darius nervously ran a hand through his hair. “I can imagine. And I know how much you hate me.”

  “I do not hate you,” Abeeku said. �
�Strongly dislike is the proper term. I cannot go and greet the Ancestors, holding hate within my heart.”

  “Then why do you strongly dislike me?” Darius asked. “I do believe that we thinned the air.”

  “You really want to know why?” Abeeku asked.

  Darius nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “Because you are everything I am not,” Abeeku answered. “You are a king. You have people who love you. You are married to the most powerful woman in the world and can be really open with it, if you wished. Me. I am no one. I was just lucky that my mother was friends with Queen Mother. I was just lucky that I was highly skilled in the art of war. I have had to fight for everything that I have now. With you, it was handed to you on a silver platter.”

  “Only half of what you said is true,” Darius said, taking a seat on a couch. “Yes, I was given my empire on a silver platter, but I have had to work for it. However, I am beginning to think that the gods are punishing me for not holding better focus. I remember when I got the news that my father had been killed in battle; I felt mixed emotions. I was relieved as my father was cruel to me, but I also felt a mixture of sadness as I knew that I would be the one looked to now to rule.”

  “How did you handle it?” Abeeku asked, curious.

  Darius shrugged. “I did what most men do when young: turn to wine and women; let the Council handle all the true work. But now that I see it…I shouldn’t have done that…as it seems the Council believes themselves my equals.”

  “And how are you going to handle them?” Abeeku asked.

  “I am not exactly sure…” Darius said with a light smile. “I am used to thinking on my feet. Making things happen when I get there. You might say I am a bit spontaneous.”

  Abeeku smiled. “You are like Philomena in that.”

  “Oh?” Darius asked. “I didn’t think her as the type.”

  Abeeku chuckled. “That is because you are only seeing her ‘royal face’. Philomena has many faces, as she has had to have because of her life growing up. She is hardheaded and passionate, but she can also be kind and considerate. However, the thing that she shares with all her family is that they all are very spontaneous. From the dam to her sire-lings.”