Styxx (DH #33)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  That was quite a list of offenses his father had made.

  “What have you to say for yourself, boy?”

  Styxx licked at his still bleeding lips. “I thought King Kreon had been more than generous with his gifts to you, Father. So much so that you wouldn’t miss what little he gave to me personally for my services to his army. I thought those were better served going to the men who’d left their families and risked their lives for us than into the treasury to pay for Mother’s drink and Ryssa’s gowns. Forgive me for my selfishness. As for the noblemen and their wives, I doubt they missed me once you opened the reserves. And honestly, I didn’t want the humiliation of returning home and having my mother and sister snub me on the palace steps or see the anger in your eyes over the fact that I squandered my portion of the tribute I earned. So again, please forgive me for insulting you while I sought to save myself from more public embarrassment.”

  “I should have you whipped for your insolence.”

  “Fine. Would you like to wake the scold or should I?” Styxx started past him, but his father caught his arm and pulled him to a stop.

  A tic beating furiously in his jaw, he met his father’s baffled expression.

  “I don’t understand you, boy. I have given you everything a prince could have or want, and it’s not enough for you. You’re petulant. Thoughtless … Perhaps I should have kept Acheron and let Estes whore you in his stead.”

  Those words slammed into him like one of Apollo’s fists. “You knew?”

  “Not … in so many details. But I had suspicions.”

  Styxx couldn’t breathe as the cold, harsh brutality racked him hard. “How could you suspect and do nothing?”

  “I did it to protect you and control him.”

  Styxx snorted. “Protect me?”

  “Your life hinges on his.”

  So…? “And what about now? You don’t know where…” Styxx’s voice trailed off as a brutal realization slapped him in the face. “You do know Acheron’s whereabouts.”

  “Of course I do. You don’t really think for one moment I’d let him loose when his life is tied to yours, do you?”

  Styxx glanced away from him before he gave in to the urge to beat the old bastard. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Father.”

  The king reached for him.

  Styxx stepped back, out of his reach. “Don’t touch me. How could you allow my twin to be bought and sold?”

  The lack of remorse on his father’s face appalled him completely. “It was a perfect revenge. The gods whored my queen. It’s only right that I whore their by-blow.”

  How was Styxx supposed to take that? It was okay for Acheron, his identical twin, to live in utter misery and to be used every single day?

  Was that why he was now being tortured by Apollo? The gods were exacting their own retribution over what the king had done to one of them? And Styxx was their tool?

  “And what of me?”

  His father scowled. “What about you?”

  By his father’s thoughts, Styxx knew the king had no idea Estes had used him, and he definitely didn’t know about Apollo’s attacks. “Did Estes tell you he molested Acheron?”

  His father grabbed him by the throat and shoved him back. “My brother never did such a thing. It’s a lie that bastard told. I know better.”

  No, he didn’t. Styxx knocked his hand away. “Where’s my brother?”

  “In a place where he can’t hurt us.”

  Right then, Styxx could have killed his father easier than he’d killed his uncle. “Where?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “A stew.”

  “I want the name of it.”

  “Why?” His father narrowed his gaze on him. “You want to fuck him, too?”

  Styxx went cold. No … surely not. “Too?”

  His father slapped him again. “I never touched that filth. But why else would you want to know where he is?”

  Because I might actually care and love my brother.

  Yet he knew better than to say that out loud. So, he gave his father the only answer the heartless bastard could comprehend. “I certainly don’t want to chance going to it and being mistaken for my brother, now do I?”

  As expected, it placated the wretched beast. “Catera’s.”

  “Thank you.” Styxx headed for the stairs.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Ultimately to Tartarus, I’m sure. For now … out.”

  “Styxx!”

  He ignored his father’s shout as he left the palace and headed for the center of the city. At this point, he really didn’t care what his father did to him. What difference would it make?

  * * *

  “If it’s a whore you want—”

  Styxx cut the man off with a fierce growl. “I told you, I want to see Catera. Now!”

  “She doesn’t see clients.”

  Styxx shoved the small man back into the shadows and lowered his hood. “I am not a client and unless it is your wish to have this brothel burned to the ground and everyone in it arrested and then executed, I suggest you get the owner to me immediately and tell no one who I am.”

  He ran to comply.

  Styxx covered his head again, making sure to keep his identity completely hidden. His blood ran cold as he listened to the bargains being cut all around. Worse were the fleeting memories of people bargaining for him.…

  “Can I help you?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to see a tiny older woman with henna red hair. “Catera?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need to speak with you alone.”

  She shook her head in denial. “I don’t do that anymore.”

  “I don’t want to tup you, woman,” Styxx snarled. “I’m here to give you the terms under which this brothel will be allowed to continue operating.”

  She made a subtle gesture for a burly man to join them.

  Styxx scoffed at that. As if he’d be intimidated after everything he’d been through. “If you value his life and yours, you will see me privately, right now.”

  She held her hand up to stop the man’s approach. For several seconds she debated then nodded. “Follow me.” She led the way to a small room in the back part of the brothel.

  The moment the door was shut, Styxx lowered his hood.

  All the color drained from her face as she sank to her knees in front of him. “Your Highness, please forgive—”

  “It’s all right,” he said, cutting her off. “Now get up.”

  She stood immediately. “What can I do for you, Highness?”

  “It’s my understanding that you have a … an employee here who looks like me.”

  “Acheron.”

  He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or appalled. “It’s true then?”

  “It is.” Fear and worry lined her brow.

  “Relax, woman. I only want to make sure he’s cared for.”

  She scowled. “I don’t understand.”

  For the first time in his life, Styxx took full advantage of his rank and position. “It’s not your place to understand. Only to obey.” He pulled his purse out and opened it. “I don’t want you to overwork him. He’s to have half the week off to do as he pleases, and you’re to make sure he has the best of everything you can provide him, including care when he’s sick.” He set his purse on her desk. “So long as you abide by that, I’ll have money delivered to you every month. If any word of his abuse reaches me, I will see you personally held responsible, and the repercussions will be neither pretty nor enjoyable.”

  Her eyes glittered with greed. “Yes, Highness. Is there anything else?”

  He shook his head. “Just take care of him.”

  She opened his purse and her eyes widened then she smiled. “Most gladly.” She hesitated before she closed it and slid it into her desk. “May I speak frankly, Highness?”

  “If you must.”

  She ran her gaze over the length of his body. “At first, it is quite startling how m
uch you favor. But you two are nothing alike.”

  If only that was the truth. They were a lot more similar than anyone would guess. However, there was one important matter they differed on.

  “Believe me, I know, madam. I’m the one who’s a lethal bastard when crossed.” And with that, he lifted his hood and left.

  December 10, 9532 BC

  It was war. Open and full-scale. His father had received the notice just an hour ago and Didymos, along with all Greek city-states, was rallying troops. They had to leave immediately.

  Styxx sighed as he found no sign of Bethany at their spot. “Beth?” he called, hoping she was wandering about, as she did sometimes when she didn’t know he was coming.

  There was no answer.

  Damn it.

  He’d be gone by dawn. All he’d wanted was to see her one last time, and tell her what was happening. But then, she’d know. Everyone was well aware that the Atlanteans were stepping up their attacks and determined to conquer all of Greece. They planned to slaughter every royal family they could find.

  But it wasn’t his family he cared about.

  “I will fight for you, my Bethany.” And he would make sure that Greece stayed free from Atlantean control to keep her, alone, safe. The rest of them could go straight to Tartarus for all he cared.

  He looked down at the ring he’d brought for her. A ring he should have given her on his return from Halicarnassus, but it’d been tainted by Apollo and he’d wanted to wait and give it to her when he didn’t have something so brutal to tarnish the joy of watching her receive it.

  Unsure if she’d ever find it, he tucked it into the base of the tree where they met and hoped that she’d understand why he couldn’t wait for her.

  His heart broken that he wouldn’t see her again for who knew how long, he mounted his horse and left.

  * * *

  Bethany wanted to scream. She’d been waiting here for hours, hoping Hector would come. Given the vicious attack Apollo had led against his own people and blamed the Atlanteans for, she knew they’d be sending Hector to war again and she wanted to see him before he left.

  This time, she was going to mark him so that she’d know which soldier he was.

  Frustrated, she lay down and flung her hand over her head. She grimaced as it slammed into the tree behind her. Then it brushed against something with a sharp edge. Frowning, she turned over and patted the small knothole in the tree where Hector would occasionally leave something for her.

  No …

  Tears filled her eyes as she realized he’d come here and she’d missed him. Aching, she pulled the small box into her hands and opened it to find a ring inside.

  Desperate to know for certain if it was from him, she took it to her temple on Katateros. Biting her lip, she pulled it from the box to see a beautiful gold ring that was impressed with a winged horse—something she’d told him she fancied without telling him she actually owned one. And on the inside of the band was stamped the words ΔIΚΟΣ ΣΑΣ. Faithfully yours.

  He had been there and she’d missed him. Pain shredded her as she realized she might never see him again. Please remember to carry my necklace with you. Please.

  What if he didn’t?

  No, she wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t. If anything happened to him …

  She would rain Kalosis itself down on every Greek. Archon would never again have to fear Apollymi’s child. She would be the one to tear this world apart.

  But how would she find him?

  Because it was open war, the Greek troops would be combined and split. Some of the Didymosian regiments could be in the southern part. Some in the north. Or if enough men were lost in Hector’s regiment, he could be assigned to one from another city-state. There was no way for her to know which regiment he’d be assigned to.

  “I will find you, Hector.”

  She had no idea how, but she wouldn’t rest until she was sure he was safe and whole.

  Most of all, protected.

  May 23, 9531 BC

  Hephaestion, the Atlantean messenger god, shoved open the doors of the gods’ main hall on Katateros. “The Stygian Omada is on our beaches!”

  Bethany looked up from the precious letter Hector had paid a messenger to hide in the tree at their meeting spot while the gods around her scrambled to action. She grabbed Hephaestion’s arm as he started past her to notify the gods who weren’t in attendance, and pulled him to a stop. “What has happened?”

  “They just landed on the beach at Ena. If we don’t stop them now and turn them back to Greece, they could make it to the mainland and take the city.”

  She saw red at the mere thought of a Greek in her beloved country. How dare they! “Who leads their forces?”

  “Styxx of Didymos.”

  Oh, it figured …

  Athena’s dog they’d named the Στύγιoς oμάδα—Stygian Omada—after. Fury blinding her, Bethany manifested her armor and summoned her horse and bow. This time, she was going to teach that bastard a lesson. In Greece, her powers were limited even when she rode with the Atlantean army, but here in her own lands …

  Prince Styxx would feel her full bite this day and wish to the gods he worshiped that he’d stayed home.

  * * *

  Exhausted from battle, Styxx wiped the blood from his face as he watched his army move inward from the beach where they’d landed. Though it’d been a fierce fight, they’d overtaken the Atlantean guard who’d been charged with the safety of their outermost island. Most of the Atlantean guard lay slaughtered on the beach. But a small contingency had escaped inland to warn their people.

  “Fortify!” he called to his commanders. They’d need to be ready when the next onslaught came. There was no way the Atlanteans would leave them to advance without a staunch, brutal fight every step of the way.

  Styxx winced as his side started bleeding again. Damn it … Bethany’s token only protected him from weapons. Not from broken wood poles and blatant stupidity. During the fighting yesterday, he’d stumbled against one. Somehow, it’d gone between the laces of his cuirass to slice and stab him across his ribs.

  And it burned like Greek fire.

  Trying to ignore the pain, he went to retrieve his horse then paused as he saw fires off to the north, not that far away, in one of the villages. At first, he thought the people there might be signaling the mainland. Until he saw the Greek banners that had been placed in the sand in front of it.

  Shit …

  Against orders, his men were raiding.

  “Galen!” he shouted to his second-in-command. “I need my dekarmatoli. Fast.” The dekarmatoli were the ten men his former tutor had hand-selected and charged with making sure Styxx was safe at all times. After what had happened at Halicarnassus with Apollo, Galen had guarded him like a psychotic mother hen.

  But right now, Styxx was going to need loyal men to quell this rebellion before it started.

  He swung up onto Troian’s back and spurred his horse to the site as fast as he could.

  * * *

  Bethany was furious as she flashed into the small Enean village where their followers had been desperately imploring the Atlantean gods for rescue. While the rest of the gods had gone to render aid to the bulk of their forces, she’d agreed to come and check on the inhabitants here.

  The village had taken in wounded Atlantean soldiers … wounded men who had been slaughtered by Greeks at the foot of her great-grandfather’s statue in the center of their small hamlet.

  She raised her hand to blast them all straight to their beloved Hades.

  “Halt!”

  That deep, fierce, commanding tone froze them all. Even her.

  Curious, she frowned at the sight of the Didymosian prince as he leapt from the back of his ebony horse and strode angrily through the fallen bodies and looting Greeks without any backup whatsoever.

  Was he insane?

  The Greeks here weren’t from Didymos. And they would have no love or respect for the young prince. S
omething evidenced by the derision on their faces.

  His blue eyes full of angry verve, Styxx headed straight for two soldiers who had hauled a beautiful young girl from her home and into the street. It was obvious by her torn gown what they intended.

  “Release her!” Styxx demanded.

  Instead of following orders, the large, burly soldier wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist. “She’s spoils, Highness.” He sneered the title.

  “She’s a girl, not property. Now release her or you will regret it.”

  “What? You’ll have your men whip me?” He laughed. “I’m a Thracian. We don’t bow down to a Didymosian crown and we hold no fear of your men.”

  The Thracians with him cheered in support.

  Undaunted, the prince approached him like a fierce predator who was aware of every sword around him and yet feared none of them. “Then it’s time you learn to fear me.”

  They all laughed at Styxx’s bold words.

  Wanting a closer view, and to make sure the terrified girl wasn’t harmed in any way, Bethany flashed herself into the girl’s body. Her arms burned from the soldier’s brutal grip.

  He buried his face in her neck. “She smells sweet for an Atlantean whore. I’m sure we can find one for you, prince. Now go back to your own men and leave this to those of us old enough for pubic hair.”

  Styxx’s celestial gaze didn’t waver as he slung his arm out. An instant later, the soldier released her and fell back, dead, with a small throwing knife planted between his eyes.

  Bethany’s jaw went slack at the sight.

  Styxx had killed one of his own men?

  To protect her people?

  Drawing his sword, the prince put himself between her and the men who’d come here with him. “Get to your mother, girl. Fast.”

  Stunned at his flawless Atlantean, she obeyed then watched in absolute fascination as he stood alone to defend his enemies from his own army.

  The Greeks attacked him.

  He downed six of their soldiers before his reinforcements arrived to stand with him against the rest of the angry Thracians. His men quickly subdued them, and drove them back.

  Styxx grabbed the one who had stood beside the first man he’d killed. “Send word to your Thracians that we are not here to rape wives, sisters, and daughters. Our fight is with the Atlantean queen, her soldiers, and their gods, not their women or children. Any Greek who defies my orders will be castrated and offered as a sacrifice to the Atlantean god Dikastis for their crimes against his people.”