by Nadia Aidan
He listened to the sound of her even breathing until the moon was high in the sky. Stretching out beside her, he pulled her into his arms, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when she instinctively curled up against him. He couldn’t ignore the invisible knot that tightened inside his gut. It wasn’t just how she unconsciously sought him out in her sleep, but also the words she’d spoken earlier that made him hope she could come to accept Sparta, just as he knew she was coming to accept him. She still struggled against it, but, when she’d asked who would see to his needs and protect him, he’d glimpsed a tiny flicker of longing in her eyes.
He’d done well in masking his own reaction to her words, but he could not deny that until she’d spoken them he’d never once thought he’d want or need someone to actually see to him. He was so used to being in charge and in control. All of Sparta relied upon him and turned to him for guidance and leadership. It wasn’t until he’d met Lamia and had her voice the question that he’d realised what he’d been missing in his life. He’d had no one to see to his needs, to help shoulder the heavy burden that he carried around. He’d been trained not to need anyone, to be completely self-reliant, and yet, it was a lonely existence.
He glanced down at the woman nestled in his arms, the heat of her body warming his as the cold eve air swirled around him. Until she’d barrelled into his life, he’d never thought he would need anyone else, but he was quickly starting to realise that maybe he’d been wrong.
Chapter Ten
Nestled between two mountain chains—the Taygetus to the west, and the Parnon to the east—Sparta was a large city-state that sat on a fertile plain just north of the Eurotas River. Unlike all other Greek city-states, Sparta was the only one without protective walls. Legend had it that Lycurgus, the founder of modern Sparta, had had them torn down, proclaiming that the men should be the walls of Sparta. And so the agoge and the legendary Spartan phalanx had been born.
Early the next dawn, Thanos and Lamia rode into Sparta, their arrival a bit earlier than he’d expected. He was glad the journey had been swift because he knew the Spartan government was eager to hear his report from Athens.
As they neared the city from the east, he tugged on the reins until Zeus came to a stop.
Lamia brought her own mount to a halt beside him, a frown spreading across her face when she glimpsed the disquiet in his eyes.
“What is it, Thanos?”
He’d dreaded this conversation from the moment he’d spotted the city buildings in the distance, but he knew he had to tell her the truth.
He turned towards her, meeting her searching gaze as he released a long sigh, gathering up the courage to finally speak. “Before we enter Sparta, I must tell you something.”
“All right,” she said, waiting for him to finish.
He dragged in another long breath, hesitating for just a moment longer.
“There are actually two things you should know. In Sparta, the ceremony of marriage is quite simple.” He paused to glance at her, choosing his next words carefully. “The simple act of bedding one’s intended is enough to constitute a marriage.”
She narrowed her gaze but remained silent, although, from the awakening fury he glimpsed in her eyes, he surmised that she was already connecting the pieces.
“I know you have no desire to wed me, but when we enter Sparta I will have no choice but to declare you as my wife, because according to Spartan law that is exactly what you are.”
Her nostrils flared and anger darkened her swirling eyes, but he praised her for not railing at him. It actually troubled him somewhat. Her outbursts he could handle, but her quiet, seething fury he found unsettling.
“You said two things,” she bit out tightly. “You said there were two things you needed to tell me. What other piece of information have you neglected to share?”
He gulped deeply at the murderous look that flashed in her deep, topaz eyes. Oh yes, her quiet fury was definitely unsettling.
“In Sparta there are two generals, just as there are two kings—one from the House of Eurypontids and the other from the House of Agiad. I am from the House of Agiad, the oldest family in Sparta.”
He stopped, not certain of the best manner in which to deliver the news.
“I do not understand your point, Thanos,” she snapped impatiently.
He lifted his lips into a wry smile. She wouldn’t. Especially since he’d done his best to speak in circles. He cleared his throat, and tried again.
“Before we ride into Sparta, I thought it best you should know that I am both general and co-regent of Sparta. Here they are one and the same.”
When she shook her head, her expression still puzzled, he just blurted it out.
“I am one of two kings, Lamia.” A sheepish grin tugged at the edges of his mouth as he shrugged. “Welcome to your new home, my queen.”
* * * *
“My queen, my ass,” she muttered under her breath. She forced herself to maintain her counterfeit smile as she accepted congratulations and gifts from the citizens of Sparta she passed by on her journey towards Thanos’ home. She was going to strangle him—with her bare hands if she could manage it. He had a thick neck so she figured it would be quite difficult, but she was certainly going to give it her best effort.
Lamia’s mind conjured a host of deviant punishments for Thanos while they trotted on horseback along the narrow streets paved with lava stone. It wasn’t until a little girl stepped away from the throng of onlookers, blocking their path, that Lamia’s thoughts grew pleasant. She and Thanos brought their mounts to a halt, and the child stuck out her hand, her little fingers curled around the stem of a flower. Reaching down to accept the lotus blossom from the girl, who could not have been more than five annos, Lamia smiled warmly.
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome, my queen,” the girl replied shyly as she bowed her head and scurried away, disappearing once again into the crowd of people who’d left their homes and shops to catch a glimpse of the ‘exotic’ new queen of Sparta.
She struggled to stifle a frown. She had no desire to be a wife, let alone a queen. At the thought, her anger returned in waves. Oh, she could not wait until she reached Thanos’ home. He would be lucky if he survived the eve.
She glanced over at the object of her nefarious thoughts.
As if sensing her eyes upon him, he turned to meet her gaze, his expression contrite. The look on his face tugged at her heart, but she refused to allow it to sway her. She was furious with him. He had deliberately deceived her—not once, but twice.
He’d tried to apologise outside the city, but she’d refused to listen. He’d known what he was doing by waiting until the last possible moment to reveal the truth to her and she had not been of a forgiving heart at the time. She wasn’t of a forgiving heart now, either, and she doubted she would be any time soon.
She pursed her lips into a tight line and tore her gaze away from him to get her first glimpse of Sparta. The actual city of Sparta was quite simple in its design, as sturdy mud-brick homes and stores blended effortlessly into one another. Unlike Athens, there were no elaborate statues of marble or impressive archways and columns. It was pleasant enough, but she had to admit that there was nothing remarkable about the city.
Soon the crowds began to thin and, as they drew closer to the edge of the city, away from the centre of town, the streets widened.
They trotted along in silence until they reached a small colonnaded courtyard with elegant marble statues of the patron god and goddess of war. The lavish gardens burst with a rainbow of colour. Green grass and flowers of every kind greeted them as a fountain gushed with sparkling water in the centre. A glimmer of sunlight shimmering against pure marble snared her gaze, and she glanced just beyond the courtyard. Shadowed by the thick foliage, an opulent home peeked out from behind the garden, one that could easily dwarf many of the estates she’d caught glimpses of in Athens.
Thanos guided Zeus through the gardens until they reached
an impressive arched entrance that opened into a cylindrical courtyard. Supported by six large Doric columns, there were two wings that fanned out from the open space and stretched for several metres.
The magnificence of Thanos’ home did not escape her and she struggled to close her gaping mouth as they drew closer to the archway where more than a dozen servants waited to greet their king.
Thanos stopped just before them and dismounted from Zeus. She, too, slid from her horse to stand beside him.
She stood there while he greeted his servants and introduced them to her, but her astonishment at the opulence of Thanos’ home left her mum, so the introductions passed by her in a blur. Given the simplicity of Sparta, and Spartan life, she’d expected Thanos to bring her to a modest home, not a veritable palace.
She only vaguely recalled Thanos gently taking her hand in his to lead her towards their bedchamber.
As soon as he ushered her into the inner room of their chambers and closed the door, he pulled her into his arms.
“I am sorry,” he whispered against her ear. With their bodies pressed together, his heartbeat joining with hers, she found it difficult to hold on to her anger as warmth suffused her skin. And yet she did not completely absolve him of his trickery and deception.
“I do not like being deceived. I do not like being forced—”
“I know and I am—”
She stopped him with the swift shake of her head. “I was under the impression that when I arrived I would find work, that I would seek out a room at the boarding house, but with your revelation I know that shall not be the case. I will be expected to remain here as your wife—to attend to duties as your queen.” She sighed. “This, I was not prepared for.”
His eyes were gentle as he peered down at her. “I know, but every time I thought to bring up the subject it never seemed an appropriate time. I never meant to deceive you. I never meant to force your hand.”
His expression was earnest, apologetic, and she believed he truly had not set out to deceive her. She imagined he’d wanted to tell her, but had feared her explosive response. She blew out a long, weary breath. She wanted to find the nearest horse and ride out of here, but she’d given her word that she would stay. Yet the thought of being Thanos’ wife was overwhelming enough…and now she was his queen?
“You’ve won, Thanos. You have me as your wife.” She shrugged. “So what now?”
Frown lines creased his brow. “This was not a competition. I did not seek to win. You must know your unhappiness does not please me.” He rubbed his thumb against her lips, drawing an involuntary quiver from her body. “I want a willing wife…a happy wife,” he said softly. “I want a woman who desires to share my bed, my home, my life”—he leant down to kiss her neck—“my children.”
She had to suppress the shudder that racked her body at the image of him filling her womb with his seed, her belly swelling with his child—their child. The curious stirring in her heart alarmed her. What was it about this man that made her forget all reason? That made her want to draw him inside her body until they were fused so tightly, she would not know where he ended and she began.
She wrapped her arms around him and joined their lips in a kiss, their tongues duelling, meshing, and she melted into him, absorbing his warmth.
Just like that, her anger was long forgotten, for she could not be angry with him when she knew the truth. She was just as culpable as he, and if she was upset with him then she needed to turn that anger upon herself as well.
Deep down, she’d known the consequences from the moment she’d given her body to him and allowed him to claim her. Truly, she hadn’t expected that to mean he’d claimed her as his wife, but she’d known that Thanos had marked her as his when they’d first made love…and she’d allowed it. She could have resisted, but she hadn’t. She’d let him take her, brand her as his. That she’d allowed him to bind her to him as his wife was her own damned fault.
The wet glide of his tongue against hers sent a raging wave of heat rushing through her until her nipples were achingly stiff, and the space between her thighs grew damp with her desires. When the bulge of his arousal dug into her belly, she gasped, and he swallowed the desperate sound. The way she responded to him, awakening beneath his touch, was evidence enough for her—she may not have wished to be his wife, but she’d belonged to Thanos from the very moment she’d surrendered her body. The notion was terrifying, but she had no time to dwell upon it as his warmth engulfed her, his kiss bombarding her senses, her entire body. When he pulled away she had to force herself not to whimper.
“I ache to be inside you, making love to you until dusk chases away the dawn.” He rested his forehead against hers. “But I must go.”
“Go? But we only just arrived.”
He cupped her cheek with his hand, gently stroking his thumb along her jaw. “I must meet with the leadership of Sparta to discuss what I learned while in Athens. But when I return we shall talk. I will do everything I can to ease your settling in here.”
The tenderness in his eyes stirred her heart and she cupped his hand, gently kissing his palm.
“And after we talk? What shall we do then?” Her smile was teasing and his brows lifted. “Well, since you now have a wife, I would think you should return swiftly and attend to her.”
He chuckled. “Only wed a few dawns and already you nag me, woman.” He kissed the tip of her nose and, with a reluctant sigh, released her.
“I will do my best to speed matters along, but while I am gone, Armine, one of my helots, shall see to you.”
As if he couldn’t get enough of her, he lowered his head to kiss her gently again, and she returned his kiss with a heated urgency until he lifted his head and their lips parted.
He nodded farewell and she gave him a small smile as he turned to leave their chambers.
She released a long breath at the sound of the soft thud of the door closing shut.
So what now?
She’d barely formed the thought when the door burst open again and a little bundle of a girl barrelled inside.
Lamia did her best not to laugh at the small child who nearly tripped inside the room. The girl looked to be no more than ten annos and she knew instantly from the look in her wide copper eyes that she was a fiery girl with a precocious spirit.
“Master Thanos told me that I was to attend to you, but he told me not to bother you until after you rested, but I had to meet you. I was told you were from Carthage and I had to see for myself. I am from Carthage as well, you know. I was found there as a baby during the second war and brought here as a helot. You’re pretty, I see. Everyone said you were very pretty.”
She chuckled as the child panted, trying to even her breathing after rushing through her words.
Lamia crossed the room and stooped down before the girl to meet her at eye level. This had to be Armine.
She flashed the child a warm smile. “Well, hello. My name is Lamia. And you are?”
The girl bowed her head. “My name is Armine, Mistress Lamia, and I am ten annos.”
Lamia struggled not to laugh again. “Well, I am honoured to meet you Armine, who is all of ten annos.” She did laugh when Armine’s eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe Lamia would be honoured to meet her.
She leaned closer to Armine and whispered to her as if she had a secret to tell. “Will you do me a favour, Armine?”
“Of course, Mistress,” the girl said, nodding her head vigorously, flashing her a toothy smile.
She got to her feet and took Armine’s small hand in her palm. “Will you lead me on a tour of Thanos’ home?”
The child’s smile grew wider and, before she could catch her breath, the little girl, who was surprisingly strong, tugged her by the hand and led her off on the grandest, most animated tour she had ever experienced.
* * * *
Thanos walked along the open colonnades of the bouleterion, down the long hallway to where Sparta’s city council convened regularly to deliberate th
e political affairs of the state.
He hated politics. He found the tedious dialogues and petty arguments tiresome, but as a king of Sparta he could not escape his duties.
His sandalled feet echoed against the hard stone floor as he climbed the three small steps to enter the large arena-like structure where the council was now assembled. Low chattering vibrated off the walls around him as he stalked towards his seat on the throne beside the other king of Sparta, Cleomenes the fourth.
He nodded in greeting to Cleomenes and took his seat. The other king returned his greeting with the slight dip of his greying head. Cleomenes was twenty annos older than him, but there was nothing about the king that was frail or weak. The older king was a virile man who was every bit as fit as he’d been thirty annos ago. Thanos had always admired Cleomenes, who was a sharp and astute man, and many times had looked to him for guidance and wisdom.
He glanced around the cylindrical chambers as Cleomenes called the council to order. On each side of him sat fourteen elders, from the wealthiest and most prestigious families of Sparta, to make up the twenty-eight member gerousia.
Seated in front of him were the ephors, the five men directly elected by popular assembly to represent each of the five villages that made up the city-state of Sparta and provide oversight to the ruling kings.
For the most part, when it came to political matters, he did not come into conflict with the other bodies of government, Cleomenes included, mainly because Sparta had enjoyed a measure of peace and stability since he’d assumed power. But now he feared that was about to change.
At the sound of his name, he glanced over at Cleomenes to meet the older man’s sharp emerald gaze.
“It is time for your report,” he said.
Thanos nodded and rose to his feet to offer greetings to the entire council and deliver the news they had all waited to hear upon his return.
“As you well know from the reports I sent by my men, I met with Governor Atallus, who informed me that the Roman army has once again settled in Carthage.”