The Belial Warrior (The Belial Series Book 9)

by R. D. Brady

  A cry went up. “They’re coming!”

  Pollux and Castor appeared at Helen’s side. “Let’s go, sis.” The three siblings ran to the front gates, which opened just as they arrived.

  Ten members of her father’s guard entered, and Helen felt the pride she always felt at the sight of them. Strong and tall, they were the best fighters in the world. They were Sparta. But the sight behind them tore at her heart. Children, most with burns and wounds, stumbled along in shock. Some had to be pulled along in carts.

  “Damn the gods,” Castor whispered.

  “We’ll damn them later,” Helen said angrily. “Right now, we help.”

  The next hours were a blur of pain and cries. There were dozens of refugees, primarily women and children. Most were injured physically, all of them were psychologically wounded. Some just stared off into space. Other cried, unable to be consoled.

  Some of the refugees spoke of the attack. They said that the men who had destroyed their village had claimed to be fighting on behalf of Zeus—and that some of the attackers had the power of the gods themselves.

  Helen crushed her fist into her hand. The Followers of Zeus must pay. This cannot continue.

  One little girl took to following Helen. Her name was Chrythos, and her face had been badly burned. Eventually, Helen got Adorna to take her away and promise to care for her.

  When the refugees were largely situated, Helen, needing to get away from the pain and misery, went to stand on one of the balconies overlooking the back hill. It hadn’t been hard physical work taking care of the refugees, yet somehow it had made her more tired than a day full of training. She closed her eyes, searching for a few moments of peace, a few moments to shed some of the horror that now coated her like a second skin.

  Darius, the head servant, found her too soon. He bowed low as he came to stand in front of her.

  Helen sighed. “What is it, Darius?”

  “Your mother. She wishes to speak with you.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes. She is on the northern slope.”

  Helen closed her eyes and blew out a breath. The conversation with her mother from this morning came back to her. That stupid tournament. She did not want to speak with her mother. She did not want to hear all the reasons why she should do as she was told. But there was no point postponing it. “I’ll be right there.”

  Darius nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

  Helen looked back out at the hill. She wanted to be out there. No, she wanted to be here, but with Achilles’s arms around her. Soon. She would go to him soon.

  She made her way to the northern slope. She wasn’t surprised at her mother’s choice of meeting places—Leda preferred to be outside the confines of the wall when at all possible. Apparently I’m not the only female in the family who doesn’t like restrictions.

  Helen found her mother sitting on a rock, watching two hawks soar high above her.

  “You took time off for bird watching? That is not like you,” Helen said.

  Leda turned and smiled. “If only that were all we had to do.”

  Helen sat down next to her. “I’m sorry I ran off this morning. It’s just I can’t believe Father is doing this.”

  “I know how much you care for Achilles. But your father is right—he is not ready to be a king.”

  Helen turned away. “I do not agree.”

  Leda sighed. “That is not the reason I asked you to meet with me. Could we put that aside for a moment?”

  Helen nodded stiffly. She expected her mother to start talking right away, but instead, she just looked out over the hills. Finally, her mother began. “I have kept much from you, to protect you, to let you live. And at the same time, I have been hard on you. No unkindness has gone unchecked, no vulnerability allowed to go unguarded. I want you to know: there has been a reason for it all. And yet now that the time of revelation has arrived, I find myself wanting to give you a little more time.”

  Leda opened a satchel she held in her hand. “But most of all, I have put off giving this to you.” She emptied a ring into the palm of her hand. It was made of a dark metal. Its square face was adorned with two intertwined triangles and set with a jewel in each corner.

  Helen wanted to reach for the ring, but something made her clasp her hands behind her back instead. Throughout Helen’s life, her mother had told her she had a destiny that would reveal itself in time. She had taught her about all corners of the world and its rich history. She had explained how the gods were not gods, but people with extraordinary abilities. And although her mother had never said it, Helen knew her destiny was somehow entwined with the Fallen.

  But there was no joy or even anticipation in her mother's voice—there never had been about this topic. Whenever her mother had spoken of her destiny, there had always been a sadness to her voice, a resignation—as if she wanted to spare Helen what was coming. Helen now had the feeling that once she touched that ring, her whole world would change, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to. “You said you wanted to give me a chance to live. I won’t have that when I take the ring?”

  “Oh, you will live. You will live more than most. But this ring—it is a promise, a pledge to commit your life to your duty.”

  “You’re not talking about being the Queen of Sparta.”

  “No. The job of ruling Sparta pales in comparison to the greater duty that you must shoulder.” Leda took a breath. “There is more to this world than you realize. There is a power struggle that has been raging unseen for thousands of years. And now, with this latest attack, I fear it is about to spill out into the light. You, my beautiful daughter, are not merely the future queen of Sparta. You are the ring bearer. With this ring, you will have the ability to change the tide of the war to come. You will be the general of the army of the good—if that becomes necessary. And you will lead the fight against our most dangerous foes.”

  Helen didn’t know what to make of her mother’s words. “Will I be like Pollux?”

  “No. With this ring, you will be able to control the Fallen, the nephilim, the animals of the land, even the weather itself. You will be the most powerful being in the world.”

  Helen shook her head. The idea of being able to control all of that terrified her. “That is too much power for one person.”

  Leda smiled. “Which is why it is given to one who understands that. And it is why you were given two people to aid you. Come!”

  Castor and Pollux jogged down the hill toward them. Castor grinned at her. “So, you learned the big bad family secret?”

  Pollux shook his head. “Ignore him, Helen.”

  “Your brothers will always be by your side,” Leda said. “Together the three of you will accomplish a great deal of good in this world.” She eyed her daughter and apparently read the skepticism on her face. “If you accept your destiny.”

  “Is there someone else who can do this? Who can wield this power?” Helen asked.

  Leda shook her head. “No. You are the only one. And you will save a lot of lives, my child. You will fight back the evil forces.”

  “I’m not sure I’m worthy of this.”

  Leda took her daughter’s hand. “Then trust that I know you well enough to say that you are more than worthy. I know what you are capable of. You can do this.”

  Helen pictured the face of Chrythos, the little girl who had been burned. Someone had done that to her. Someone had decided that that child did not deserve a chance at a good life. Someone claiming to be doing the bidding of Zeus.

  “Why are they attacking the villages?” Helen asked.

  “They are going after the Fallen,” Leda said quietly. “They pursue the ones who are quietly living their lives, drawing no attention to themselves.”

  Helen knew of the Fallen. She knew certain people were born with exceptional gifts. But she had met only a few who were good, like Pollux, and most she saw only through the destruction they left behind. The idea that some lived their lives without causing harm, it was shocking.
r />   “Why are they targeting the quiet ones?” Helen asked.

  “We don’t know,” Pollux said. “But more Fallen will continue to engage in acts just as cruel."

  “Unless someone does something about it,” Castor said.

  “We have identified the direction in which these latest attackers fled,” Leda said. “Their trail is easy to follow. They are heading toward Plataea. All attackers seem to come from that region.”

  Pollux nodded toward Castor. “We’re going after them. We could use some help.”

  Helen stared at the ring her mother held out to her. This will continue. More children will be scarred like Chrythos. Unless I do something about it.

  She reached out and curled her hand around the ring. “I accept.”

  Chapter 12

  Her brothers had horses waiting at the top of the hill. Helen didn't even have time to stop back at the citadel and tell Achilles where she was going but her mother promised to speak with him.

  Helen and her brothers pushed the horses as much as they dared and reached the destroyed village at dusk. They picked up the trail and continued as long as the light allowed them. They had hoped they would overtake them before they reached Plataea but that did not happen. Instead, they followed the trail for a week without any sight of them.

  The whole trip Helen's mind replayed what her mother told her about the ring. It allowed the wearer to control the weather, animals, and the Fallen themselves.

  It seemed incredible. But on the long journey, Helen had slowly testing the ring. And she could touch the edges of power. She focused on the tendrils of power and at one point, even sent a lighting bolt to the path directly in front of her brothers. All the horses had reared back and her brothers glared back at her.

  Helen put up her hands. "Sorry, sorry. Just seeing what I could do."

  "Well, try not to get us killed in the process," Castor grumbled.

  Helen smiled weakly at them. But the fact that she had called down the lightning amazed her. She remembered wishing she had the power to fight the Fallen and now she did.

  Now, Helen and Castor crouched behind rocks overlooking the attackers’ camp. Helen had felt the tingles as they had approached—the same tingle she felt near Castor. Fallen were there—at least two. It was good that Pollux had stayed back, not wanting the men to sense him.

  “So, little sister,” Castor whispered with a grin. “You ready to try out your fancy little ring?”

  While they had been spying on the camp, the men around the campfire had been laughing about their attack on the village—mimicking the cries of the villagers and exalting in their abuse of the women. Helen ran a finger over the ring. “More than ready.”

  “Let’s go.” Castor slipped from behind the rocks, his bow at the ready. He let off two arrows, each finding its mark.

  Helen stood as well. Her gaze was focused on the men, but her mind was calling on the skies. Lightning bolts blasted down on either side of the camp. Damn it. She had been aiming for the two Fallen—who were now sprinting right for her.

  Pollux appeared from the shadows, tackling one of the Fallen. But the other Fallen moved so fast, Helen didn’t even see him until he was suddenly in front of her. He grabbed her by the throat and picked her up off the ground. Her feet kicked uselessly.

  “Release me,” she rasped.

  The man’s eyes grew wide, but he lowered her to the ground and released his hold.

  Helen swallowed. “On your knees.”

  The man knelt.

  Helen’s anger simmered. This was one of the men who had laughed around the fire. She had heard him speak gleefully of having taken the innocence of a child—and then having taken that child’s life.

  Helen pulled her sword from her scabbard, aimed for the man’s neck, and swung.

  Chapter 13

  Helen stood back with her brothers, her mind still reeling. She had struck the Fallen in the neck, but he had not died. Instead, he had healed. So she had commanded the two Fallen to stay on the ground, immobile, while she helped her brothers finished off the others.

  When only the two Fallen were left, Helen questioned them. Unfortunately, although she could command them to answer her questions, they did not seem to know much. Zeus had visited them originally and recruited them into his ranks. From that point on, he sent notes to Plataea via falcon with the next target.

  “Who is Zeus?” Pollux demanded.

  “The—the king of the gods,” the Fallen answered.

  “No, who is he really?” Helen asked. But it was obvious the man didn’t understand the question.

  Pollux shook his head. “He doesn’t know anything.”

  Helen knew her brother was right. “Fine. So how do we kill them?”

  Pollux grimaced. “They must be taken apart.”

  Helen's gaze flew to her brother's face. “What?”

  Castor shrugged, not meeting her gaze and she could feel his distaste at the task to come. “We have found no other way. Burning does not work, nor does any wound. Dismemberment is the only way to assure they die.” Seeing the look on Helen’s face, he added, “We have this part, sister. No need for you to be part of this.”

  Helen was not squeamish, but she didn’t relish the idea of dismembering her enemies. She looked at the Fallen. “If we let you go, will you still follow Zeus’s bidding?”

  “Yes,” the man said defiantly.

  “I could order him not to speak,” Helen offered.

  Pollux shook his head. “We don’t know if he would obey that command indefinitely. We cannot take the chance.”

  Helen pictured all the refugees she had seen over the last year. She remembered the men's violent boast as they sat around the fire. Then she nodded at Pollux. “Do it.”

  Chapter 14

  Sparta, Athens

  Achilles walked down the long stable. After Helen had left, Queen Leda had found him and explained that Helen, along with Castor and Pollux, would be away for some time. Then she had asked him to join her for a walk. To Achilles’s surprise, they had walked and talked for hours. Achilles didn’t know how it had happened; he rarely spoke of himself to anyone, yet he had found himself speaking to the queen of things he’d shared with very few. There was just something so very familiar about her. And when he had walked her back to the front gates, she had gotten him to promise that he would come talk to her if he had any problems. Achilles had taken it as a good sign. Perhaps the queen was in support of him marrying Helen.

  But now it was two weeks later, Helen was still gone, and Achilles was unsettled.

  He knew he was being ridiculous. Helen had responsibilities. But couldn’t he have gone along? There was nothing tying him here. And he knew they were mixing it up. He longed for a good fight. It had been ages. Truth was, he was going stir crazy.

  “Now there’s man who looks like he could use a good drink.”

  Claudius grinned at Achilles from the doorway of the stable. He was much shorter than Achilles, which made him seem much younger, even though the two men were about the same age. Claudius had only been working at the stables for a week now, but he had spent the entire time chatting, telling Achilles of his adventures around the world and pestering Achilles to share his own. So far, Achilles had stayed silent, turning down all the man’s offers for friendship—but right now, the idea of losing himself in a few drinks sounded just about perfect.

  He clapped the small man on the shoulder. “You know what, Claudius? For the first time, you might be right.”

  Chapter 15

  It was a long, grueling trip back to Sparta. A storm swept in from nowhere, forcing Helen, Castor, and Pollux to take refuge in a cave for two nights. Then the wet ground sucked at the horses’ hooves, slowing their travel even more.

  But at last, the lights of the citadel bloomed brightly ahead. Helen, Castor, and Pollux grinned at one another and picked up their pace. Helen’s heart skipped a beat. Home. Sparta was in her bones. Sparta was her life.

  And Spart
a also meant Achilles. She yearned to see him. And with the ring and her new abilities, she had convinced herself that she would be able to marry him. She would make her father see reason.

  The citadel walls came into view. Torches blazed on either side of the main gate. Helen glanced to the parapet, where guards always stood watch over the surrounding countryside. But there were no guards there now—the parapet was empty. No call of greeting sounded to welcome them home, and the gates did not open as they approached.

  “Pollux?” Helen asked.

  Pollux was already off his horse. He leaped high, his hands just reaching the top of the gate. He swung himself over and disappeared from view. A moment later, the gates opened. Helen and Castor dismounted and led their horses inside.

  Helen could hear voices beyond in the training yard but the courtyard was empty and it was never empty. The hair on the back of Helen's neck rose. A figure rounded the side of the building and hurried toward them. The siblings had their swords drawn instantly, but quickly lowered them as they saw it was only Adorna.

  She rushed towards them, her usual unflappable demeanor gone. “Thank the gods you’ve returned. You must come quickly.” She hurried towards the front doors without waiting for a reply.

  “What is it?” Helen asked, reaching her side.

  Adorna looked at Helen with pity. “It’s Achilles.”

  Before Helen could ask questions, a yell rang out from deeper inside the citadel. Pollux ran ahead and shoved open the doors—but instead of swinging wide, the doors crashed to the ground.

  Pollux jumped back. “I didn’t shove them hard enough for that.”

  Adorna plowed ahead. “No—Achilles did.”

  Achilles’s voice echoed through the citadel. “Where is she?”

  Helen gasped. Achilles sounded angry and in pain. She sprinted forward.

  “Helen, wait!” Pollux yelled.

  Helen ignored him—but she didn’t make it far before a pain sharper than she’d ever felt rolled over her. With a gasp, she fell to her knees.