Night settled, and the rumble in his stomach reminded him that he had eaten nothing since the previous evening meal. Changing back into his human form and seeking food was not an option. Time was of the essence. Without stopping, he sniffed the air. Welcoming scents, blood and flesh, tender and fresh, assailed his acute senses. The need and hunger within the beast was great, but Eris curbed its appetite with ironclad resolve. He ignored the fierce vibrations upon the ground, an indication of great game. He concentrated solely on the tender, light tremors against the earth. His feeding would have to be curtailed to small meals, concealed within hovels, and far spaced. Consuming a great meal such as a hearty deer would tempt the beast to lie down and slumber, replete and satiated. He targeted instead smaller wild hare while in the dense forests and tender alligator’s eggs when he approached damp grounds surrounding rivers. He ate only enough to survive, and he ate while moving. A growling belly would allow no sleep.
The journey was hard and long. As his body wound and twisted, surging always forward, endless and constant, energy drained from him. The energy was not replaced, with his restriction on food and rest. Days began to pass in a blur while the nights found him pushing on even while his lidless eyes stared sightlessly ahead. Sleep and exhaustion called for him to halt, to coil his body in surrender. But he chased away the lethargy by eating less and less each day. Finally he even began to restrict his water intake. The scales upon his body ceased to glisten with health. The vibrant green glow was replaced by a sallow, pale, sickly pallor. His tongue darted out, dry and thirsty, as his head remained low, dragging against the ground it rarely raised from. As his vision began to fail him, seeing double and eventually hallucinating, he relied solely on his sense of smell. The sweet fragrance of the grass and rich, humid soil of his home called to him.
He slowed, but he never ceased. Kyra never left his mind. He drew strength from her constant present there. She beaconed to him with silent, challenging eyes. Each recollection of her tender flesh, each remembrance of her powerful embrace, fueled the determined beast. Even as Eris found his human presence swaying and fading into nonexistence, the beast lumbered on.
On the final day, when food and water consumption had ceased completely, Kyra continued to feed the beast with limitless purpose and hope. She fueled each contraction of its exhausted muscles, spurred every slow drawing out of its glorious length. The snake wanted its mate. And it would have her.
The process of reverting back to his human form from that of a serpent was not as joyous and awe-inspiring as when he had taken the form of the beast. It certainly was not as free of pain. His body ached from the effort. He found himself on bended knees that refused to straighten. He stared longingly up at the palace gates. Walking the last few feet would be impossible. He crawled.
Everyone gasped and stared as the gate guards rushed to assist him. They held him upright and quickly rushed him to the king. His head hung low as he allowed the soldiers at his sides to bear the brunt of his full weight, though he was sure it was, at present, not great. He had been starving for the last few days. Dehydration had robbed his body of an equally staggering amount of vital fluids.
The king clapped his hands together briskly on his entrance and shouted, “Bring food and wine.” He rushed to his chair and grabbed his own cloak and wrapped it around Eris’s naked body. Eris tried to speak. A hoarse croak was all the sound he managed.
Vasilis Amyntas silenced him quickly with a reassuring and, fortunately, light squeeze to his shoulder. He grabbed the goblet brought in by the slave and fed it to Eris himself. “Do not speak yet. Quench your thirst and feed your hunger.” He dipped bread liberally into the wine and fed Eris patiently.
Had the situation not been as dire, Eris would have found either amusement or embarrassment at his king feeding him. For now he could do nothing to resist the only sustenance his belly had been blessed with in days. He ate hungrily and drank ravenously.
Finally, he acknowledged any more indulgence would surely make him sick and gently pushed the king’s hand away. His voice was coarse, rough, unaccustomed to use for days now, and ravaged by a painful dryness that refused to dissipate. “I thank you, sire. Where is she?”
Vasilis Amyntas dismissed the wide-eyed lingering slaves. He sat beside Eris and spoke softly, “Your messenger arrived not more than a day ago with news of Kyra’s abduction by the enemy.”
The muscles in Eris’s jaws clenched as he gritted out, “I sent no messenger. He is the instrument of her abduction.”
The king whistled softly. “Then it is good I did not take heed in his message. I adamantly refused to open the gates to the plantations even though he swore this to be your explicit instruction.”
Eris eyed the king in surprise. “How could you have possibly known I did not send him? He is exceedingly cunning and overly convincing.”
A short, humorless laugh echoed in the room. “Have I not told you before you left, I trust no one. Had you wished a message sent to me, you would have delivered it yourself. I have faith only in my princes, gladiators of the House of Andromeda.”
Eris tried to smile but found the effort too great. His parched lips were cracked and sensitive. He maintained his more comfortable dour look, and he nodded slowly. “Then you have acted wisely as befitting to one of your elevated position. Now tell me exactly what he had to say.”
“He arrived as though the very hounds of hell were at his heels, in a cloud of dust and grit. But I was keen enough to notice the filth simply coated him. Whereas a man traveling for days would have been embedded in it, it simply settled over him, like a false cloak seeking to deceive us. Nevertheless I gave him a hearing. He brought news, apparently from you. He said you were delayed, embroiled in a battle against a number of the enemy’s followers, and had sent word ahead.” The king shook his head in amusement. “Here was his second error. I know my gladiators well enough to know no amount of men could have held you back.”
Eris nodded. “And what of Kyra? Was she not with him?”
The king shook his head. His voice was filled with sympathy. “He arrived alone bearing news of her abduction by the enemy. The instruction, he said, was brought straight from you—to elevate the plantations gateways. According to him, should we refuse to do so, you would have difficulty in gaining entry yourself. He said only our immediate compliance would aid you in the securing of an appropriate trap for the beast. He reiterated many times over, you had a devious plot in mind, an ambush.”
Eris shook his head in disbelief. “And yet you believed him not?”
With a proud nod, the king declared, “I know you much too well. Had the beast been in the vicinity, you would have called for the gates’ reinforcements, not for its opening. You would have sought to protect the people within, rather than allow the beast to gain entry.”
The king’s words humbled him. “You have great faith in me.”
Vasilis Amyntas smiled brightly. “And was I not right.” He held his hand up as Eris made to rise. “There is sufficient time for your recuperation. Kyra has value in the hands of your enemy—alive.”
Eris sighed and leaned back. His mind understood, but his body, as haggled and weary as it was, desired immediate redemption. He sought more answers. “Where, then, is the supposed messenger?”
The sigh that greeted his question gave him little hope. The king lowered his head and muttered, “Upon seeing that his ploy had failed, by my failure to raise the portcullis, he immediately chose to flee. Before my men could gain the upper hand on him, he disappeared. But I must ask, Eris, how was he able to reach our gates with such speed? It is apparent you traveled in your beast state, yet he was able to reach with almost the same speed. No horse could have kept your pace. Was he given such an advantage in time?”
Eris hissed angrily, “He practices the dark arts. He is one of those you have warned me about, the high-ranked betrayers in civilization. He has sold his soul to the darkness, and Cronus aids him with magic and illusions. In all likelih
ood, he could have traveled on Cronus’s beast itself. Only a beast with attributes similar to mine could have matched my speed.”
The king nodded morosely. “We are fast approaching a great uprising by the enemy. His followers grow steadily in numbers each day. But I have further dire news to impart. While I sought to peer beneath his deceptive disguise, Sappho was not so patient. He was much too enraged by the idea that Kyra had been abducted. He was infuriated that you had failed to guard her.”
Eris rose slowly. “What has he done?”
The king spoke softly, “He felt her presence within his terrain, the mountains. I acted as quickly as I could and managed to detain him in the upper floors of the south wing by lowering the inner gates there. But he will soon escape should he choose to take on the shape of his beast. The scorpion would find no hardship in scaling down the wall outside any window.”
Eris groaned as he straightened to his full height. “I must go to him.”
* * * *
“I cannot allow you to leave here.” Eris lowered the gate quickly as he stepped in.
“You have failed to safeguard what you have stolen from me. How would you seek to redeem yourself? You hands shall forever be stained by her blood should her life end this way.” Sappho hissed at him angrily.
Eris approached him cautiously. It was apparent his brother was already suited and ready for battle. His weapons flashed dangerously at his sides, and his amour was snugly fitted to his body. The only missing apparatus was the helmet. Eris found it tossed in a darkened corner. He had caught Sappho in time. He was about to discard his amour and prepare to transform. His voice was low but urgent. “The plot runs thicker than you assume, Sappho. You do not understand the true depths of this heinous ploy. I do not even comprehend it fully. You rush only to your death.”
Sappho’s eyes blazed with rage. “I understand fully. You have failed. Kyra was never supposed to have left the safety of these walls. Had you not sought to dictate and force her will, she would have been safely in residence.”
Guilt warred with logic within Eris. Finally he stated firmly, “Had she remained here, she would have been at equal risk. The extent of the cunning employed by this enemy is beyond your scope of imagination. He has grabbed her from the bosom of her very home. This place could have offered her no more security.”
An enraged shouted echoed through the halls. Sappho advanced on him. “Is that the consolation you would offer yourself should she die? You have been given your chance with her, and you have failed by dismissal proportions. Now step aside and allow me to tutor you in the art of protecting what is yours.”
Eris hissed impatiently, “She was never yours. Where was your beast when you drove between her thighs and lodged your lance deep within her? Slumbering. You choose her while your beast rejects her. Now accept that she never was and can never be yours. This battle belongs to me. The bait is for me. Kyra is my mate.”
“Then why does she lie deep within the bowels of my mountains? I feel her presence within my terrain vividly. You stubbornly refuse to see what is so blatantly clear. She was found in my territory first because she was mine. She now lies in my domain because she is mine. The only evidence of your involvement is your interference and meddling.”
Eris shook his head in sympathy. He did not like the look of despair in his brother’s eyes. His voice lowered. “You care deeply for her. You would rush to her aid even at risk to your life.”
Sappho nodded firmly. “I would. I see no evidence of a likewise caring within you. Why waste your time here when her life lies in peril?”
Eris answered softly, “Because your life lies in equal peril, and you are as important to me.”
The words were wasted on Sappho. His body noticeably strummed with stubborn determination. Eris could well imagine the grief within his brother, the confusion. He was a docile, reserved creature by nature. But once his ire had been irked, he would be a formidable foe.
Sappho eyed him cunningly. “Last she took you into her body, and she looked upon your face with horror and fear. Have her reactions changed overmuch to have instilled in you this false hope you carry?” Sappho smiled coyly. “I gather not. The expressions on your face speak volumes even as you guard your tongue. Would you choose to intentionally inflict upon her fear and terror simply for your own gain? You are truly a selfish, cold reptile. Mayhap you harbor hopes that she shall be fearful enough to guard her virtue. She shall not. She shall seek out every male she can find to rid herself of your offensive touch and taste. You are unworthy of her attentions. Has that not been made abundantly clear? How else did you fail to protect her?”
Eris swallowed hard. A myriad of unanswered questions rose to the surface of his mind. His brother had struck a particularly vulnerable nerve. While Kyra had accepted him as a man, he knew not if he had satisfied her fully. They had not shared words after the incident. Was it possible that he had been the only one who had gained such pleasure, such bountiful bliss? Was Kyra afraid enough to try to keep the truth firmly locked within her breast?
The vision rose to his mind, unbidden. The images he stubbornly sought to ignore kept resurfacing despite his aggressive attempts to evade it. The look of fear, of horror, that had crossed her face as she had stared at his beastly form squeezed his heart. What she sought to guard with her sealed tongue revealed itself in her expressions. Only a truly foolish person could deny her look, a look of consuming fear, unbridled terror. Only a fool would continue to hold on to hope that she would change her feelings. And he was just such a fool.
Sappho narrowed his eyes and whispered mercilessly, “Despite her wicked tongue and strong visage, she is but soft, sweet, pure. You are hard—harsh. What possible chance does such a match stand? Release her from your constricting hold and allow her the freedom she deserves.” He stepped closer. His voice lowered to a barely audible whisper. “Her softness would be crushed beneath your brash hold. Release her.”
He moved suddenly, taking advantage of Eris’s diverted concentration, seeking to veer past. Eris acted fast. His hand flashed out in a blurred movement and grabbed his brother. He yanked him close, close enough for their breaths to mingle. He stared fiercely into eyes that mirrored his own, violent green, ruthless. His whisper was firm, filled with finality. “She is not of just a strong visage—she is strong. She is my equal in every regard.” The fangs extended beneath his lips. “That makes it a blessed union. She is my mate. I shall never release her.” Without warning he sank his fangs deep into the strongly throbbing pulse at Sappho’s throat. His victim’s eyes widened, as venom seeped in slowly, carefully measured, in alarm and shock.
Eris drew his fangs back with a breath of relief as a surge of anticipation ran through him. The snake upon his chest jerked up eagerly, flicking its tongue impatiently. Eris smiled. “She has moved. I feel her presence within the tall swaying wheat of my territory. I have told you, brother, this battle belongs to me.” He gathered Sappho close as he slid to the ground. Cradling his head gently, he whispered as his brother’s eyes slid closed, “I pray you will forgive me one day.”
Chapter 10:
SAGA D`eka
Everything was dank, dark, and eerie. Kyra blinked furiously, trying to regain her eyesight, but all around her remained shrouded in penetrating blackness. She winced as she turned her head. Fingering the severe bump on her head tenderly, she scanned her surroundings carefully. All remained still. Kyra sighed. At least she did not have to contend with Thyone yet. She could recall nothing of the journey, but she was sure they had undertaken one. With no recollection of the time that had lapsed, she could not be certain where she was, but she could guess. Surely she must have been abandoned in one of the vast mountains of Argos. She was, after all, bait.
Kyra swallowed quickly as bile rose in her throat. She retched harshly. Dry heaves raked through her body, naked except for the coat of sweat and grime. Nothing was ejected. She hung her head low and took deep steadying breaths. A loud rumble escaped her belly. Si
tting slowly back on her haunches, she tried to ascertain the reason for her sickness. It could not have been anything she ate. Nothing had been expelled, and she was extremely hungry. Suddenly her eyes widened. If she had traveled such a great distance and could remember not, surely there was only one explanation. She had been drugged.
She scrambled to her feet. Her knees wobbled as she straightened. Her head spun, and her vision blurred. The wall beneath her outstretched hand felt damp, cold. She grimaced. There was no telling what matter of unpleasant creatures she would be forced to unintentionally touch. But she had to move. Thyone could return at any time. She did not know which way to go. Every direction she faced provided only one thing—darkness. She squinted and stared hard in all directions. There was not a glimmer of light to be seen. Sighing in frustration, she leaned heavily against the dank wall. Her drug-induced sleep had left her mind spinning, but now in her wakeful state added more undue stress. Her panic and confusion were making her dizzy. She had to think.
Her features brightened as she recalled a trick taught to her by one of her elder brothers. She stuck her finger into her dry mouth and sought to wet the tip with the little moisture within. She extracted it, not as moist as she would have preferred but damp enough for the task ahead. Carefully she held her finger out. She waited, hardly daring to breathe. Nothing. She turned her direction and repeated the process. Again she felt nothing. With growing frustration she turned around completely. She waited. Suddenly she felt a cooling breeze against her damp fingertip. She peered in that direction. There was air flow, which could mean a possible exit.
Without hesitation, she ventured forth. There was still no glimmer of light, but she proceeded with the aid of a hand against a wall. Her feet skimmed the surface of the unsteady ground with each step she took. Even as her mind implored her to make haste, she stepped slowly, lightly. Falling and injuring herself would do her no good. Besides silence, there was no concrete evidence that she was alone. And she had no intention of alerting anyone or anything to her presence. Her free hand reached blindly in the darkness ahead.
Tangles and Temptation Page 24