Carved in Stone
The Stone Warrior Series
Book 2
Stein Willard
SYNOPSIS
Aeron Whittaker upset the archeological fraternity when her thesis suggested that two female warrior queens might have ruled a small Galatian kingdom together. To leave the ensuing storm behind, she accepts a position at the Turkish Heritage Association in Ankara.
It is here that the past and present collide. Thrown head first into a world of gods and ancient curses, Aeron is left doubting her steadfast scientific principles.
Is there even a scientific formula to challenge the existence of love?
Carved in Stone © Stein Willard 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author or publisher.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Editor: E. Robberts
Cover Design: DEPE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To all my readers.
Thank you for your support.
I’m your biggest fan!
PROLOGUE
Ancyra, circa 143 BC
Province of Galatia
The courtyard was awash with the light of over a thousand torches, their light chasing the shadows to the outer edges of the square. The only time the square was lit up like this, was when the Queen deemed it fit to host a festival to celebrate one or another feat. And just like it was the case now, the courtyard would be filled to capacity by her loyal subjects.
But tonight was different.
The torches also highlighted the presence of the large wooden scaffold in the centre of the courtyard. Instead of the sounds of revelry, a soft wailing filled the air. Sitting ramrod stiff on her throne, her hand white as she clutched her sceptre, was Aspen, Queen of Galatia. Her gaze was fixed intently on the scaffold. She should’ve given the signal a long time ago. But she wasn’t ready. She would never be ready. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her advisor looking at her, but ignored him. She was his Queen and she would decide when the time was right —when she was ready.
This had been the roughest period of her life. And it all started five days ago…
“Your Majesty, the army has returned.”
Looking up from the scroll she was reading, Aspen had scowled at the servant. “Like they do every time, my dear Potlemis,” she said by way of dismal and returned to reading her scroll.
When the servant didn’t move, she looked up again. The portly man was nervously shifting form one leg to the other. With a sigh she carefully placed the scroll on her desk.
“Is there more?”
“The royal flag is not showing.”
The words made Aspen surge to her feet, the scroll falling from her suddenly numb fingers. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Majesty. I have asked the watchmen to make sure.”
“How far out are they? Get my horse ready immediately.” She didn’t wait for an answer, but hastily made for the door. She could hear Potlemis running in the opposite direction. Aspen burst through the door of her private sanatorium, her eyes searching for the tall, skinny figure of her physician. She found her bend over a patient.
“I need you to come with me now, Atitan.”
The woman dropped whatever she was busy with and rushed after the Queen. Aspen took a few seconds to compose herself before she stepped out into the bright sunlight. It will do no good for her subjects to see her so distraught. Her steed, a large, white Arabian was brought around and not waiting for assistance from her groom, she swung herself onto the back of the horse. She kicked the horse into a brisk pace.
The army was a candle mark out from the city walls and Aspen pushed her steed hard. Something was compelling her to rush and in her relatively short lifespan, she’d learned to heed her instincts. Cloptus was one of the fastest horses in the kingdom; its speed acknowledged and admired throughout the smaller realms surrounding hers. But today, even at full sprint, she felt that the horse was stalling.
She sighed with great relief when after a short, hard ride, she saw the puff of dust a few yards before her. With her heart thundering in her chest, she pushed Cloptus a little harder still. She could tell the moment when the caravan spotted her, for the Royal flag was hoisted in immediate haste. The significance of the act made Aspen shudder. She brought Cloptus to a sliding halt and was off his back even before he came to a total standstill, pushing her way through the kneeling men, she made straight for the heavily guarded wagon and clambered into the back.
The interior smelled of blood and… death. Aspen took a shuddering breath. With a sharp glance at the man kneeling over the prone body, she dismissed him. As soon as she was alone, she scrambled over to the figure lying on the pallet.
“What have you done, my greatest love? Oh, what have you done,” she murmured as she feverishly stroked the ashen cheeks. Blonde lashes fluttered and opened to reveal a pain-filled golden gaze. Recognition filtered into the eyes and immediately it morphed into a look of intense love and regret.
“My heart…” The words were so soft that Aspen had to lean closer to hear them.
“Keeper of my heart,” she murmured as tears ran down her cheeks. She needn’t see the injuries to know that her warrior was beyond saving. For five years she’d feared this moment would arrive and for five years she’d committed herself to be strong and never disgrace her beloved by showing any weakness. The flap to the wagon was pushed open and without looking up, Aspen spoke. “You are no longer needed, Atitan. You can return to the palace.”
Pride and regret warred in the golden gaze. The end was very near. She stretched her body out lay next to the mortally wounded warrior. Resting on her elbow she could look down into the beautiful face.
“I have always wanted to tell you this, but we always got distracted the moment I wanted to discuss something of deep importance with you.” Aspen smiled gently. “You were always my biggest distraction and the most welcoming kind.” She placed a tender kiss on the ashen lips. “I want you to know that five years ago when you walked into that hut and I saw you, I knew no one will ever lay claim to my heart, but you.” Fresh tears coursed down her cheek and fell onto the deathly pale face below. “I made it sound like a political alliance when I pledged my hand in marriage to you before your Queen and Mother. What everyone else saw as a pact of trade and peace between our nations, I saw as a great opportunity with the most beautiful warrior to guard my heart.”
The golden gaze flashed with love and Aspen offered another kiss. “Where you are going I cannot follow, my heart’s desire, but know I am sending the most important piece of me with you. My heart will go with you always and forever. It has always been yours and thus it belongs with you. It will always be safe in your hands.” This time the golden eyes filled with tears and Aspen kissed each of them. “I know to talk hurts, beloved, but I want you to promise me that we will meet again and that we will continue this great love. Can you do that for me?”
The pale lips parted with effort. “I promise…”
That was all Aspen wanted to hear and it was also the last words the warrior uttered. With a last tender kiss to the pale lips, the eyes and the cheeks, she bid her beloved farewell. With silent tears streaming down her cheeks, she sat quietly for more than half a candle mark as she waited for the body to cool, all the while etching the features of her beloved onto her mind.
“My heart embraces you always and fore
ver,” she whispered
The day following the death of Queen Phage, the Royal Consort and Warrior Queen, was one of absolute stillness. Wrapped up in her own pain, she was unaware of the mourning of her people. It was only when Potlemis requested her presence in the Great Hall that she realized the grave mistake she’d made. Her kingdom had loved her Queen and was mourning her just as much as she did. The Great Hall was filled with flowers, scrolls of Phage’s exploits, small representations of the late warrior in the forms of busts and statues. It was a great help to know that her pain and loss was echoed by many others, but at night was when the pain chocked her. That was when the bed seemed too big and when Phage’s earthy scent wafted up from nowhere to settle in her nostrils. It chased her from her room the previous evening to stand guard over Phage’s body. She had already decided to bury the warrior according to her Greek tradition. She deserved a warrior’s send off. It was while she stood there, looking down at the warrior that her senses fled her. Clutching her robe, she’d torn it from her body. Her eyes were dry and hard as she cast them to the skies—to the gods.
“I have been a humble and obedient servant all my life. I have respected my position and I have loved my subjects fiercely. Why then have I fallen out of favour? What have I done that was so cruel to have you rip my heart from my chest in such a callous manner? Why keep me alive if I will never be whole again?”
She heard footsteps hastily coming up from behind her. “No, Your Majesty, your disrespect will invoke their wrath.” The ever faithful Potlemis had thrown himself at her feet. “I beseech thee, my Queen, to cease these demands lest Galatia loses yet another queen!”
Aspen glanced at the cowering man and knelt down next to him. She gazed deep into his eyes.
“I will always find favour with you and yours, dear Potlemis. For ages to come, your name will always be linked to mine and my House.” With a gentle kiss to his cheek, she stood up. “Go now and hide, I do not want you present if the gods decide to strike me down for my insolence.”
The man shook his head slowly. “I will hide, my queen, but I want to do so in the open. May I stand next to you, my queen?”
“I tell you again, Potlemis, I will hold you and yours in high esteem for as long as I live. Just help me to get through this day and the next first.”
The wailing suddenly stopped and Aspen slowly returned to the present. Potlemis stood next to her, a burning torch in his hand.
“It is time, my Queen.”
Handing him the sceptre, she reached for the torch. A soft gasp sounded at the significance of the gesture. She was going to set her warrior’s soul free - in her capacity as her wife and not as her sovereign. Everyone present was aware of the great love they’d had for each other and for this final stage of her journey; Phage needed her wife to guide her spirit home. As she passed through the throng of subjects, she felt a few gentle touches on her robe and a faint smile formed on her lips. She was not alone—her pain hasn’t isolated her. She walked up the wooden ramp to where the remains of her warrior queen lay. With infinite tenderness she placed a coin on each of the closed eyes.
“Remember me, my warrior, no matter in what shape or form I come to you again.” She gently placed her hand over Phage’s chest. “Have a safe journey and hold a place for me by your side.”
With her eyesight blurred, she held the flame to the hay and watched with an aching heart as the flames engulfed her warrior’s mortal remains.
CHAPTER 1
Present day Ankara,
Turkey
“What the hell kind of name is Phage anyway?”
The silence that fell after the remark was deafening. Seventeen pairs of eyes shifted nervously to the far corner of the room where a silent figure sat. Appearing unperturbed, the tall figure at the end of the long work bench stayed bowed over the shard of pottery she was holding in her gloved hand. Unbeknownst to the group of undergraduates, the eyes under the lenses flashed with a hint of irritation before they sharpened again as they traced the intricate patterns on the surface of the ancient artefact.
The silence stretched for a while longer, before the soft clearing of a throat sounded.
“I think this is enough for now. Gather your equipment. We’ll hit the excavation site in ten minutes so you can work off all that energy,” a sharp female voice said. Footsteps sounded and came to a halt behind the seated figure. “I’m still in the process of shaping their minds, but I’ll always struggle to keep their mouths shut.”
Broad shoulders shook as a soft chuckle filled the air. A blonde head lifted and brilliant, amber eyes met apologetic green ones.
“I believe we all went through that stage, Caroline. The bug will bite them yet and then you’ll have your hands full getting them out of here.”
Caroline grinned. “Unlike us, they were not born into this way of life. We were born curious and with souls as old as time.”
Aeron Whitaker came to her feet and stretched her tall frame. She groaned as her tense muscles stretched languidly before gently releasing. She’d been studying the artefact for close to three hours now and only managed to decipher less than a quarter of the symbols. She felt the other woman’s eyes on her, but chose to ignore it. Dr Caroline Rupert was a friend, but Aeron was not unaware of the woman’s interest. They’d met ten years ago here in Ankara while Aeron was researching her doctoral thesis on Aspen, the Last Queen of Galatia and the Queen’s prosperous, but short reign. After a particularly ground-breaking find of a scroll that mentioned a Warrior Queen named Phage, who seemed to have jointly ruled the small Galatia Kingdom with Queen Aspen, Aeron invited Caroline, also a doctoral student at the time, along to celebrate. After many glasses of wine, they have returned to their dormitory, where a heavily intoxicated Caroline pulled her closer and kissed her. Stunned by the unexpected change in events, Aeron had gently pushed the woman away. Her rebuke, as gentle as it was, had impacted greatly on their friendship and for the following three years, they have been avoiding each other as much as they could. Working on the same dig site, it was difficult to completely avoid contact with each other. Caroline had left for London soon after to take up a teaching position and has, since then, only returned every summer with a group of her undergraduates in tow.
As senior site supervisor at the Roman Baths excavation and as an affiliate to the Turkish Heritage Association, Aeron found that avoiding contact with Caroline was impossible. Through her students, and the work the groups did on the Baths project, the two women have been drawn closer again. There were still the occasional strained moments between them, but what they had now was a mutual respect for each other’s work. Thanks to that, they’ve always had something to talk about.
“The group’s going out for drinks later. Since it is a Saturday and they will be off tomorrow, I caved.” The green eyes were intense. “Would you like to join us?”
Aeron hesitated. She’d rather come back later and work through the new collections brought in this week. She was drafting an article about the new discoveries and was hoping to have the first ten pages ready for review. She looked down at the shard of pottery and back at Caroline. The woman looked at her expectantly. Rubbing the back of her neck, Aeron shrugged. She’s been working quite hard the past two years and rarely took time off to relax. Maybe going out would not be such a bad idea.
“Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
The relief on Caroline’s face worried her a little, but she’d already accepted the invitation.
“There’s this little place two blocks from here that serves the best local and international dishes. Does eight sound okay?”
“I know that place. It’s close to my flat. I’ll see you at eight then.”
“Great. Eight it is then.” Caroline gave a small wave before she left the workroom. Staring after the woman for a moment, Aeron questioned her decision to join the group. She rarely mingled with the students, finding most of them too blasé to appreciate the wealth of knowledge at their fingertips. But
partaking in some senseless chatting tonight was not what bothered her. Since Caroline’s arrival two weeks ago, the blonde was acting rather weird. There was the one time they were the only ones left in the building, when Caroline came over to Aeron’s workbench to discuss the collections her group had made at the site earlier in the day. The blonde had leaned over the desk giving Aeron, who was seated, a clear view down the front of her loose cotton shirt. Not a stranger to seduction games, Aeron had calmly held the woman’s gaze as the professor talked about their find. Since that evening, Aeron made sure never to find herself alone with the woman again. It was a shame, because when she wasn’t trying to seduce Aeron, Caroline was great fun to be with.
She pushed her fingers through her short cropped blonde hair and walked over to the coffee machine. She swallowed a curse when she found the pot empty. She had asked the students, as kindly as possible, to always start a new pot as soon as it ran dry. But, as usual, her request had gone in through the one ear and out the other. She took the pot and made her way over to the tap where she measured enough water for just one cup. She’s had way too many cups already and if she planned to sleep tonight, she’d have to start monitoring her daily intake.
Aeron closed the tap and turned to walk back to the coffee machine, when she saw the man standing in the door, watching her. She almost dropped the pot in shock and quickly placed it down on the sink. The man was tall and slender and from his dark, attractive features, evidently of Turkish descend. He was dressed in a white linen suit with a sky blue shirt which was open at the neck. Aeron didn’t know why, but the man didn’t seem to be lost. He looked too self-assured and very rich.
She threw a quick glance at the watch on the wall. It was just after two. “Good day, sir, how may I be of assistance,” she asked politely.
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