Styxx cupped her face in his hand and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad he loves you so, and your mother, too.”
But his family didn’t love him like that and she knew it.
He spread his hand over her stomach again. “I still can’t believe there’s a little Bethany in there.”
“And if it’s a boy?”
“I shall love him, too.… Should you be standing?”
She smiled at the sincere concern in his tone. “I’m pregnant, Styxx, not infirmed.”
He laughed. “I know nothing of pregnant women or babies. I fear you’ll have to educate me on both.”
“Have you not practiced with your nephew?”
He tensed as if the question slapped him.
“Styxx?”
Sighing, he shook his head. “Ryssa doesn’t want me around the baby.”
“Why?”
“It’s not important. We have our own little one to worry over.” He lightly squeezed her stomach. “We should find a scribe to marry us.”
“I would prefer an Egyptian wedding.”
He hesitated as if the thought of waiting didn’t appeal to him. But he relented without comment. “Very well.”
“No argument?”
“Right now, Beth, you could ask me for the moon and I’d find some way to get it for you, even if I had to steal Apollo’s chariot to bring it down for your touch.”
She laid her hand against his cheek and savored the smile she felt there. “I will need a few weeks to put things in place and to work around my parents so as to keep you breathing.”
His smile faded. “My father is likely to disinherit me. But we will be fine. I have some money of my own put away where he can’t take it from us, and in spite of what he says and the damage that was done to my hand, I can still work as a soldier. There’s always someone who needs a strong sword arm.”
She shook her head at where his thoughts went. “Have no worries there. I assure you, should your father disinherit you, mine will welcome you like a son—”
“Or kill me.”
“Or kill you. But if I manage to keep you out of his spear range, my father isn’t a poor fisherman. He is quite wealthy, indeed. You won’t have to war to feed us, and we will have a life equal to the means you’ve been raised with.”
He scoffed. “I don’t care where or how I live so long as you’re with me.”
“We’ll see how you feel when I’m fat and cranky.”
“I will still worship the ground you tread on.”
She only prayed he continued to feel that way once he realized that his new father-in-law would be the Egyptian god Set, and his mother-in-law was one of the gods who’d gleefully tortured him in Atlantis.
April 3, 9527 BC
Styxx froze as he came face-to-face with his brother in the hallway. Acheron held Apollodorus in his arms and it was obvious by the wet hair and droplets on his nephew’s skin that Acheron had just bathed him. His nephew stood in Acheron’s arms as he laughed and bounced happily.
A smile twitched at the edges of Styxx’s lips as he saw the babe and thought of his own child he’d soon be able to hold like that and bathe. “He’s grown a lot.”
Apollodorus reached for Styxx. “Ackee?” Then he frowned in confusion as he looked back and forth between his matching uncles.
Acheron held the baby tighter while he glared at Styxx without comment.
Bitter regret thickened Styxx’s throat as he realized how much his brother hated him. And that Acheron’s and Ryssa’s hatred would one day infect Apollodorus, too. It shouldn’t hurt any worse than their rejection, and yet it did.
Styxx cleared his throat. “I still have the horse Ryssa gave you when we were boys … if you want, you could give it to Apollodorus.”
Acheron curled his lip. “We don’t need anything from you.”
Ryssa came out of her room then paused as she saw them. She took her son from Acheron. “What’s going on?”
“Styxx was offering me cast-offs I want no part of.”
In that one moment, Styxx desperately needed to hate his brother as much as Acheron hated him. And yet …
“We were friends once.”
Acheron sneered at him. “You were never my friend. You stole from me and you lied to me.”
Styxx gaped at his unfounded accusations. “Name me one time in my life I stole from you.”
“Your crown, for one. My parents’ love…”
“And you can have them. Please, for the love of the gods, take them, if that’s what you want. They’ve never brought me any kind of comfort or joy.”
“Is that why you’re plotting to kill Father?” Acheron asked.
Styxx’s jaw went slack again. “Are you insane? Why would you accuse me of such a thing?”
“Because I know it’s true. You’re plotting against him, and you’ve tried to blame me for it.”
Styxx shook his head at the ridiculous accusation. “When have I the time to plot against anyone?”
Ryssa snorted. “You’re gone for days at a time and no one knows where you are. Tell me, honestly, that you’re not meeting with your coconspirators.” She nodded at Acheron. “I believe you, little brother. It’s just the sort of thing he’d do.”
Styxx was aghast at them. Gods help him if they repeated that poison to his father. The king was just stupid enough he might believe them. “I’ve plotted against no one. I was the one stabbed in his sleep. Not Father.”
Acheron went pale. Does he know?
Styxx turned his anger to his brother. “You did it, didn’t you? You’re the one who tried to kill me.”
Ryssa stepped between them. “Don’t be ridiculous. Acheron did no such thing. Why would he? If something happens to you, it would kill him, too.”
“No,” Styxx breathed as he glared at his brother. “And Acheron knows that. If he dies, I die. But my life has no impact on his at all. Is that not right, brother?”
Growling, Acheron ran at him and shoved him back so that he stumbled and fell to the floor. “I hate you! You should have died when I stabbed you and stayed dead!”
“What is this!”
Eyes wide, Acheron retreated at the sound of the king’s roar. Ryssa put herself between them so that she could protect the one brother she loved against the brother she couldn’t stand.
She might as well have gutted him herself. That was what it felt like.
“Answer me!” their father demanded as he looked from Ryssa and Acheron to Styxx.
“It’s nothing, Father,” Styxx said, making sure to keep his tone level and calm as he pushed himself up from the floor. “Just squabbling among siblings.”
Ryssa narrowed her gaze on him. “Did you know Styxx is plotting your death, Father?”
Styxx gaped at her accusation.
His father turned a suspicious eye to Styxx. “Have you proof of your words, daughter?”
Then Styxx heard it. The speculation in her mind that she now had full rein to kill him and not harm her beloved Acheron.
If Styxx is gone, Father will have to love and accept my brother.…
“It comes from a reliable source.”
The look on his father’s face said that the stupid bastard believed her. Shocked anger riveted him to the floor.
Ryssa would actually see him dead.
Narrowing his gaze on his sister, Styxx jerked the crown from his head and shoved it into his father’s hands. “Take it. Ram it into whatever orifice you can manage. I really don’t care. I’ve walked out on all of this before and will gladly do so again. The gods know being prince has never brought me anything but absolute fucking misery.”
“We know the truth, Styxx!” Ryssa snarled.
Styxx curled his lip at her. “You don’t know anything, you stupid bitch.” He raked his father, her, and Acheron with a sneer. “None of you do, and I’m done with you all.”
He just wanted Bethany. Turning away from them, he headed for the stairs to leave and never come back.
“Guards!” his father roared. “Seize the prince.”
When they moved forward, Styxx glared at them. “Do you really think you can take me?”
Only one was dumb enough to try. Styxx had him disarmed and flat on his back before his father could blink. Bellowing in rage, he threw the guard’s sword into the wall where it embedded into the stone.
His fury riding him hard, Styxx turned his lethal gaze to his gaping father. “If I wanted you dead, Majesty, you’d be dead by my hand already. And if I wanted your fucking crown, I’d have taken it when I marched my army through.…” Styxx’s voice trailed off as he had a profound flashback of having said this to his father before, and yet …
The memory was so vague. More like a dream than reality.
What in the name of Hades?
He locked gazes with his brother as Acheron’s allegations rang in his head. I know you’ve tried to kill him. I know it! And you blamed me for it.
Styxx wasn’t sure what Acheron was thinking. None of it made sense.
And still suspicion darkened his father’s eyes. So be it. It wasn’t like he’d gone down any in the king’s estimation.
Disgusted, Styxx looked at Apollodorus who was now distraught and crying from the chaos. “I’m so sorry, dear nephew. You deserved much better than to be born into this travesty of a family.”
“Styxx!” his father roared, but Styxx ignored him as he met Acheron’s fearful gaze.
Now he knew for certain that Acheron had tried to end his life. And his brother knew that he knew. But what difference did it make? Really? Whatever he did to retaliate against Acheron would rebound onto him and he’d be punished, too.
Perhaps the worst punishment of all was that Acheron would be saddled with Ryssa for a sister. Jealous, treacherous bitch that she was. I just hope she never turns on you, brother.
Tired of their crap, Styxx made his way out of the palace, to his horse. How he wished he could be with Beth today. He needed to see a set of eyes that didn’t hate him. Feel a hand on his skin that didn’t begrudge him anything, or wish him ill.
Five more days …
He’d had longer separations from her. But for some reason it hurt more today.
Soon, though. Soon they’d be married and no one would ever force him to be away from her for another heartbeat. Ever.
* * *
“Where have you been?”
Styxx paused on the palace stairs as he heard his father’s voice. “I went riding.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d be back.”
Not like he had any reason to return and honestly, he still wasn’t sure why he bothered. Other than this was all he knew.
Styxx turned slightly on the steps to glare down at his father. The old man looked tired and, if he didn’t know better, sad. “What do you want from me, Father?”
I wanted a son I could be proud of.
Styxx hid the pain his father’s thought caused him as he waited for the king to speak.
“Your sister is convinced you plot against me. Is there any reason she should think that?”
“She has the mental capacity of an aged flea, and I refuse to be held accountable for her grotesque, unhinged stupidity.”
His father closed the distance between them. “I wouldn’t be so concerned if I didn’t feel your hatred every time you look at me.”
What was there to love?
“What do you want me to say, Father? I love you? Fine. I love you. Now, may I go to my room?”
“You don’t love me the way you do that old man who serves you. You’ve never once looked at me the way you do Galen.”
Styxx wanted to laugh at his jealousy … it was so ludicrous. “And you have never once tended me when I was sick. For that matter, you don’t even check on me to ask after my health. You weren’t there to fight against my enemies as they tried their damnedest to kill me then, wounded yourself, carry me off the field of battle and stitch my injuries. When you sent me too young to war, Galen was the one who stood by my side and defended me against the insults and jeers of my own people who thought you mocked them because I was there. For half my life and all my memory, Galen alone has picked me up when I’ve fallen. He is the only father I’ve ever known.”
His father’s head snapped back as if he’d slapped him. “You think he could give you what I have?”
“No, but when I was naked, he took his own cloak off his back to cover me. And he gave me the only thing that has ever mattered.”
“And that is?”
“Love, Father. Even when I’m not at my best, even when I fail, he is proud of me, and he is there whenever I need him. He doesn’t judge or condemn me for being human.”
“Because he doesn’t dare.”
Styxx scoffed. His father knew nothing of Galen’s fearless temerity. “I have no wish to argue with you on this.” He turned to leave.
“Wait … you should know that I’ve entered into talks with the king of Ithaca for his daughter. I’m arranging a meeting for the two of you.”
Sighing, Styxx turned back around. “And you can un-enter them, Father. I’m already betrothed.”
Rage mottled his cheeks with color. “To whom?”
Styxx braced himself for the full force of his father’s wrath. “My Bethany.”
“A peasant! Are you out of your mind? You’re my heir, boy! She’s not even Greek!”
“Neither was Nefertari. But if you want the Ithacan princess, I suggest you marry her to Acheron or yourself. I am bound to my Bethany and I will take no other bride.”
“I forbid it!”
Ignoring him, Styxx continued up the stairs. “Forbid it all you want. I care naught what you say or do. I will have her as my bride.”
I will see you dead first!
Styxx winced at his father’s threat. Go on and try it, bastard. Let him learn what Acheron had. So long as his brother lived, he was free and clear of death.
April 6, 9527 BC
Styxx shook his head at the ring the jeweler held out to him. “Too small a stone.”
“This is the one.”
Styxx looked over at Galen’s selection which appeared tiny in Galen’s massive calloused paw. Even so, it was much larger than the one he’d been examining, and it would be large on Bethany’s delicate hand. The stone was a deep celestial blue that glittered brightly even in the dim light of the store. “What stone is that?”
The jeweler smiled in approval. “Sapphire, Highness. It symbolizes purity, and is thought to protect against evil thoughts and wishes.”
Styxx nodded at Galen. “You’re right. It’s perfect for her.” He glanced back at the merchant. “I’ll take this one.”
While the merchant went to box it, Galen laughed. “Two men picking out a wedding ring is like two women shopping for swords. Both of us out of our element. Next thing you know, we’ll be shopping for dresses and panas.”
Styxx snorted. They had both amused the merchant to no end with their questions and comments. “Let’s just hope the baby’s a boy. After this travesty, I don’t want to even contemplate trying to shop for a daughter.”
Galen’s laughter was deep and rich. “It’s not so bad, really. I rather enjoy it, and unlike boys, daughters never hesitate to hug and kiss your old whiskered cheeks. There’s a lot to be said for having a daughter. Then again there’s a lot to be said for having a son. Either way, I’m sure you’ll be very pleased.”
He was sure about that, too.
The jeweler returned with his purchase. Styxx carefully tucked it into the pouch he carried.
Leaving the store, he started home then stopped with Galen by his side. “Is a ring enough?”
“For your Bethany? Aye, boy. She only wants you.”
Still, he wasn’t sure. He looked to the end of the street. “It just seems so insignificant to what I feel for her. Perhaps I should get—”
Galen shoved him back toward the store, cutting him off mid-sentence. Irritated, he opened his mouth to bark at Galen when
he realized that something wet and warm was on his leg. Something bright red.
Blood.
His heart racing, Styxx caught Galen against his side as the old man staggered. “Galen?” he cried out, cradling him in his arms as Galen struggled to breathe.
Someone had cut his femoral artery. Deep and ragged, the wound shot blood everywhere.
No!
Who would have dared such?
“Someone fetch a physician!” Styxx called as he sank to the ground with his mentor in his arms. “Hold on, Galen.” He tried his best to stanch the blood. But it was impossible.
And it kept coming and coming no matter how hard he tried to stop it.
Galen’s gray eyes stared into his as the old man smiled and patted his blood-soaked hands. “This is how it should be, boy.”
“How what should be?”
He swallowed hard. “No man should ever outlive his son. Never mind thrice in one lifetime. This time when I saw the assassin’s blade, it ended the way it should have.” He touched Styxx’s cheek. “My beloved son is safe from harm.”
Tears blinded Styxx as he bit back a sob. “Don’t you die on me, Galen! You hear me? That’s an order! You are not to die for me … please … please, don’t leave me.”
Galen licked his lips. “I couldn’t love you more had I been lucky enough to sire you myself. It’s been my greatest honor to fight with you, Styxx. To teach and protect you at home, and in battle. You are the greatest hero Didymos has ever bred. And I couldn’t have asked for a better son … you’ve done my old heart proud time and…”
As he watched, the light faded from those gray eyes. Galen went limp in his arms.
Styxx couldn’t breathe as tears fell down his face. He tried everything he could think of, but it was no use.
Galen was dead.
And it was his fault. He should have protected him. Why hadn’t he been paying attention? Why?
It was so unfair.
“Damn you, gods! Damn you all!” Sobbing, he held Galen to his chest.
I can’t die … why did you interfere, old man? Why?
Styxx (DH #33) Page 57