Disclaimer: While I wished I owned Ares, God of War, I don't, nor do I own any other characters from "Xena: Warrior Princess" which happen to be the property of Universal/Renaissance Pictures, a division of MCA Entertainment. The following story is a work of total fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This story is told in three parts, even though I hadn't intended to do that. The first part has very little Xena in it, and is predominantly told through the eyes of Arion, a young warrior who plays a key role. I don't want to give too much away now, but needless to say, the first part sets up the real action of the story. It may seem as if it starts off slow, and uninvolved with Xena, but it does, just stick with it. If you like it, please leave a review!
…Thicker Than Water
By MeganRenee1987
Part One: Like Father, Like Son
I.
The sun rose behind the lone warrior, shrouding him in silhouette. He said nothing as he glared at the world beneath the cliff he stood on. Behind him, his makeshift army tried not to move but the tensions were raising. Still he paid them no mind. His eyes were on the temple that sat in the middle of the village; the people moved around it as if it didn't exist. Many people had forgotten the temple and what it used to mean. He intended on changing that.
"Arion, the men are ready."
He turned at his name. "Good."
"I didn't tell them what you were planning."
Arion smiled. "Good, Playthus, don't."
"Don't you think they have a right to know what you intend on doing?"
Playthus was not a warrior. He was a tall lanky man not far out of boyhood who preferred words to swords. Still, that boyhood had been shared with Arion who remained his closest and dearest friend. Arion, however, was not tall and lanky but tall and sculpted. His long dark hair fell to his shoulders in ringlets. He had broad shoulders and a hard body for years training himself to be a good warrior. Of course, in twenty years war had become an unimaginable thing. Many people had forgotten who the God of War was and what he did. Warlords had lost the taste for bloodshed and for a time fighting ceased. Until today.
"They aren't warriors," Playthus continued. "They're farmers. They follow you--"
"Because you have the words to sway them. I know what I'm doing, Playthus, relax."
There was something oddly comforting in Arion's smile as he nodded to his friend.
"Attacking his temple isn't going to change the fact that you're still a bastard, Arion," Playthus said knowing he was going too far.
Arion's gentle demeanor vanished. "Stay to the back of the infantry."
"Arion," Playthus said knowing that his words would fall on deaf ears as Arion leapt into his saddle. "He's a god, Arion, not a father, whatever you hope to prove by sacking his temple--it's not worth it."
"Stay to the back of the infantry. It would be a shame for the world to lose the sound of your voice," then he was gone, riding forward and leading an army of reluctant soldiers.
x.X.x.
The army marched forward into the little village, stunning the people as it had been two decades since the last time they had seen anything like the sad formations lining up in front of the temple dedicated to the God of War. In fact many of the villagers lined the other side of the street watching to see what Arion might do to the temple. Surely, a leader of such an army meant to make a sacrifice to the God of War. They waited to see
The villagers didn't realize that this was no real army, that their weapons were carefully maneuvered by craftsman who knew how to supply farm tools and little more. War had no purpose in the country and the instruments of war had been forgotten. Arion didn't let this knowledge change his plans. Jumping down from his horse, he faced his troops.
"It has been twenty years since anyone last saw the God of War. Twenty years! No wars, no ways of settling disputes, just an endless listlessness that has overtaken the country! I am tired of waiting for the God of War to decide to return to action. I am tired of giving to his honored priests and temples and for what? For peace? My whole life I have wanted to be a great warrior but how can I achieve honor and glory if there are no wars in which to prove my bravery. How many of you have dreamt of being the next Achilles? Never to be achieved because the God of War decided to take a holiday!"
Arion knew that his voice rang out loud enough for the men in the back of the army to hear him. He smiled particularly at the knowledge that Playthus wasn't the only one who could inspire a crowd of reluctant farmers.
"Well, I say no more! No more praying to a useless deity! No more giving him what you could rightly use for yourselves! If we want to be the Achilles and Agamemnons of our boyhoods, then it is up to us to become the warriors we know we are in our hearts!"
A cheer went up from the crowd.
"I give you your freedom from a useless god! Take it!" Arion stepped back and immediately the front row of soldiers surged forward into the temple followed by the second wave and then the third.
By sundown there was nothing left of the temple but a few bricks. Even the life-size statue of Ares was beheaded and left in the rubble. The riches were carted away and the forgotten temple was no longer forgotten but now feared as the destruction would surely raise a God's wrath.
II.
When the first temple fell, Arion waited for some reaction. Nothing. Then came the second, the third and soon, most of the temple devoted to the God of War became nothing more than ashes in the wind when destruction seemed to have little affect. Ares didn't appear or challenge him and Arion's speeches were drawing more and more followers until his army swelled within its ranks.
While Arion sought the God out through destruction of his temples, he should have just sought out a rickety farm house on the edge of nowhere. He would have had more luck.
Ares had spent most the last twenty years mourning. When the news had come of her death--well, he had already known feeling that a part of him had died--as much as a piece of a god can die. He lost his appetite for war knowing there could never be another like her, knowing that there would never be another to excite him, thrill him, tease him as she had. He just left it all behind him. He remained immortal but heartless. Even Aphrodite had stopped checking on him, preferring to leave him in the hovel than lure him back to his gilded temples and willing priestesses.
He knew why he chose the farm--it was where he had been happiest with her, like it or not. Bard or not. He had been the most peaceful and content here, seeing her everyday and listening to her stories. He had done a little work to the inside, fixing the tables and the roof--this time with a wave of his hand than the necessary climbing and hammering. He didn't dare go into the bed he had shared with her--the wound was still too fresh to rub that particular bit of salt into it. Instead, he paced the floors and remembered.
Twenty years worth of remembering seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Sometimes as he dozed by the fire, he swore he could still hear the faint whirl of her chakram, and for a moment she was still alive and giving him that taunting look. No mortal had ever gotten to him as she had, and the knowledge that no one ever would broke into his heart.
With the farm house looking like new and real animals pecking around, Ares tried to distract himself, but to no avail. She was there, breathing on his neck, her laughter faint in the air, her scent clinging to him. He dreamt of her and in his dreams, he tasted her, felt her smiles heard her voice. Only his dreams was he truly happy as one day blended into a week and then into a month, and then into twenty years since the day she died.
"I thought I'd find you here."
He flinched at the all-too-perky voice the moment before she appeared.
"You thought? Now, there's a feat of amazing strength," he said, turning away from Aphrodite's prying eyes.
"I can think," she replied. "It's just a lot more fun not to. So, bro, what have you been up to?"
"Same old, same old," he answered.
"Yeah, about that. I have some delicious gossip you might like, hot off the wire--" Aphrodite was perched on the table next to him, her pink lace glittering in the light.
"Save it. I don't care."
"Oh, well you might. Seems some little scruffy punk is destroying, like, all of your temples," she said with a smile. "The brat's basically got the whole world thinking you're worthless and seeing you like this, I'm inclined to agree. Why are you out there wreaking havoc and terrorizing the masses?"
Ares looked at his sister. "No one would dare--"
"Oh, he dared all right. Actually, he's daring right now," she said with a twist of her head. "But you're not there so what do you care?"
"It's my temple--"
"Not that you use it," she said flatly. "When's the last time you left this dump?"
"It's not a dump," he snapped. "I like it here."
"Yeah, and that's the scary part. Look, bro, I'm not telling you what to do, but this jerk has some major support growing town after town as he burns your joints. I think some definite God of War action is required and pronto."
Ares was gone in a flash of light, leaving Aphrodite to shake her head. "And that's the thanks I get."
x.X.x.
Aphrodite had been right, Ares realized when he appeared amidst the sacking of his own temple. Offerings were snatched, vases knocked over, even his prized sword collection was being ripped from the walls. For the first time in a long time, Ares felt more than a harrowing sorrow. He glanced around at all of the soldiers destroying his temple and knew rage once again. With a wave of his hand, a half dozen soldiers flew back against the wall. A snap of his hand had three soldiers catching on fire, a blink of his eye had the temple walls rumbling a fierce bout of thunder rolled into the area surround the temple, complete with heavy gray storm clouds.
Only one man did seem to be struck by the forces that were causing his raid to fall apart. He crossed his arms and looked around the room with glee.
"He's baaaaaaaaaaaacccckkkkkkkkk!"
Ares appeared in the middle of the room as the swords from the walls came to life and began to fight their attackers. The earth began to shake; statues, tributes, and articles devoted to Ares began to rattle as the soldiers could feel a new power enter the room. The walls began to crumble under the force of the shaking they endured as the foundations cracked and Ares stepped forth into the eyes of every man in the room. He walked calmly through the crowd to the only man standing still. Within minutes, the soldiers fled having witnessed the presence of the God of War himself. Only one man remained.
"I wondered how many temples I would have to destroy to get your attention," Arion said with a proud smile. "Surprised to see me…Dad?"
III.
"What do you think you're doing--did you just call me Dad?" Ares had expected some kind of sharp retort but instead looked at the boy closely.
"Sure did, Dad," Arion replied. "Wow, what an entrance!"
Ares had to try to shrug it off. "Cute. Real cute. Look, kid, you think by crashing a couple of my temples you're going to make a name for yourself but--"
"I could care less about your temples. I just wanted to see you up close and in person."
Ares shot him a skeptical look. "Now, why would you want that?"
"Because I needed to see where I get my devilish good looks from," Arion replied quickly. "Mom always said you were a looker…and a charmer too."
Ares didn't deny it. He merely gained that smug smile he was famous for. "Now, which one was she again?"
Arion gritted his teeth. "Now, who's being cute?"
The two men stared at each other for a long minute.
"Do you know how many brats come running to me claiming to be my kid? Please. If you want my attention at least be original."
"How's this for original? Give me the sword and your title and I won't wipe the floor with your prehistoric ass."
Ares laughed loudly. "You've got balls, I'll give you that much. Rebuild the temple, disband your army and I might spare your life."
Ares had turned and was on the verge of disappearing when he heard Arion's voice clearly.
"What a pathetic excuse for a god."
Ares was before Arion in an instant. "What did you say?"
"You heard me," Arion didn't flinch. "Mortals need a god they can believe in--not some bleeding heart, lovesick sap. Aphrodite's tantrums have become more violent than you lately."
Ares mentally shook himself and stepped away from the boy. "What some punk like you know anyway? Straight off the farm I'm willing to bet."
"My point exactly. There are stories of a time when something like that would have had my head on a spike, now you just walk away? Give me the sword, old man. Clearly you don't want it."
Arion lunged for the hilt from Ares's belt and found himself flying across the room and landing hard against a wall. In a pile on the floor, Arion say a familiar twinkle in the war god's eyes.
"Missed it, haven't you?" Arion slowly regained his feet, ignoring the aches and pains. "Missed playing with us mortals."
"I do admit, it is a lot more fun than I remember," Ares shrugged as Arion was flung through the air. "Or maybe it's just you that amuses me so."
This time Arion slammed against the wall with a sickening thud.
"Just remember, Fraud of War," Arion slurred his speech due to the bone jolting feeling of being slammed against the wall, "killing me won't solve anything. There will be another--then another. You're losing your power. The people no longer fear a god obsessed with a dead woman."
Arion found himself floating before Ares's piercing gaze. "What makes you think I won't use you for an example? Your dismembered body would send a pretty clear message to other trying to claim my mantle."
"Until the crows picked my bones clean. Then what? What will you do? Keep making examples of them?"
"Do you have a better idea?" Ares asked the precocious youth.
"Thought you'd never ask," Arion wiped blood from his lower lip. "You need a general."
"A general? That's your big idea?"
"Not a general, the general. Me," Arion's smug smile mirrored that of Ares. "I've already got an army and people listen to me. A few cleverly devised wars and you'll be back in business. I'll conquer the world in your name. That's what you want, right?"
"One minute you want my title for yourself, the next you want to honor me by taking over the world? This is really fascinating."
"You'll name me heir, of course," Arion continued calmly as if Ares hadn't spoken at all. "You'll retire to a life of leisure--a plantation, a kingdom, whatever you want and I'll take over, after you teach me everything you know."
"Have this all planned out, do you? What if I kill you now?" in spite of himself, Ares was beginning to like the nerve of the boy.
Again, Arion didn't bat an eye. "Do it, already, but there will be others. I've inspired a genuine dislike for a lazy god of war."
"That should end with your death."
"Go ahead, make me a martyr instead of an ally. You'll regret it."
Ares seemed to mull this over for a minute.
"C'mon, Dad, what do you say?"
x.X.x.
The army waited for a sign. If Arion was truly the son of Ares, he would emerge alive and well. If he wasn't--the thought didn't bode well. At last, Playthus could wait no longer, he shoved his way to the front of the apprehensive army that stood just outside the temple door, waiting.
Playthus looked at the scared faces of Arion's men and knew that he would have to be the brave one for a change. He opened the temple doors and what he saw surprised him.
Arion and who Playthus presumed was the God of War were facing each other sword in hand. Each strike of the metal against metal was louder and louder echoing off of the walls. For every move that Ares made, Arion had a way to block it, which was good since the God of War could easily have killed him had he been any less of a man. Ares knocked the sword from Arion's hand causing Arion to hit the floor to avoid decapitation, using the advantage, Arion kicked Ares feet from beneath him, causing both men to sprawl out in the middle of the floor, chests heaving, swords lying idle within reach of both men. Arion was bleeding out of the corner of his mouth and he had a nasty cut on his arm. His left eye was also beginning to swell and bruise.
"Okay, okay, I'm not saying you are, but you could be my kid," Ares said breathing heavily.
"Good," Arion took the last bit of strength he possessed and swung his fist around to land a square punch against Ares's chin. "Now, name me your heir."
Ares scowled, unhurt. He looked at the boy who had withstood a brutal beating. The kid had potential. He was still breathing, if labored. He was strong and clever. He earned Ares's favor, but there was nothing to stop the God of War from killing him if he overstepped his bounds. Win-win. Ares laughed to himself.
"Sure, why not?"
"In front of the Fates."
Ares's amusement died. The boy wasn't just clever, he was smart.
"We'll see--boy. I need to know if you're god-material."
"Name's Arion--"
Ares blinked at the similarity.
"Apparently you made quite an impression."
"Apparently," Ares muttered, as the smug smile spread across Ares's lips.
"And you knew I was god material the moment you saw that I was unafraid. But I can wait, see how I do with a real army in a real battle before you decide and when you make me your sworn heir, it will be in front of the Fates."
"Confident, are you?" Ares smirked. "Very well, Arion. Do me proud and I'll make you my heir."
IV.
Ten Years Later…
"They say he's the son of Ares! We can't defeat Ares! We should surrender!"
Sounds of agreement were drowned out by the shouts of disapproval. The council of elders, all old men with long grey beards--all except one--sat in a circle in the meeting hall. All but one had spoken--the only one without a gray beard. Olivus remained suspiciously quiet.
"He is coming! Shall we fight? Surrender? His army is massive and we will die fighting, yet surrender only offers a sealed fate of slavery for our women and children! Olivus--you have not spoken. What say you?" it was an excited goat farmer who called on the silent man.
Olivus took a deep breath. He seemed to gaze into the future as he often did in important matters. By far the youngest member of the council, many saw him as the wisest.
"Perhaps if we challenge Arion face to face he will respect us enough to leave us in peace. They say he is a fair and honorable man."
"Tell that to the families he enslaves," the goat farmer yelled.
"The families are those who crossed his army. If we prove we are strong and noble, Arion will leave us," Olivus replied calmly.
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we fight," Olivus answered, "If we are brave, he will take a kind eye to us. Arion appreciates and respects bravery."
There seemed to be a consensus among the elders. A plan was set in motion. Olivus would ride forth to meet Arion and tell him the village Trellysia would not back down.
Olivus's stride was strong as he left the meeting hall in favor of his home on the edge of the village bounds. He had left the country farm when Linnaeus was old enough to take over.
Aside from his eldest son, Olivus had two others and three daughters. Simon had left the family to make his fortune elsewhere. Timonius owned a merchant shop not far from his father's home in town. Simonie, Simon's precocious twin sister married the tavern owner's son while Valisa acted as midwife to the whole village from her husband's neighboring farm.
Alethea, the youngest, was an altogether different story from the rest of the mild mannered family whose ties often held the community together. She was wild--when she was younger and the family lived on the farm, she would disappear for days at a time. Often Linnaeus would find her gathering herbs and roots in the heart of the forest that surrounded their little farm. The girl was fearless. She never hesitated to ride a wild horse or take chances that many boys her age wouldn't dream about. She loved animals and often had several of them following her about at all times. One did not taunt Alethea, her animals saw to it, especially, Athena her hawk.
When they moved to the village, Alethea had trouble adjusting. The first night she ran away back to the farm and spent the night in her own bed unbeknownst to Linnaeus and his new wife.
Alethea had a certain measure of freedom that the other children never had. She would sneak out into the meadow and watch Olivus teach the boys how to fight. After the sixth time, Olivus caught her hiding in the brush, he began to teach her how to handle a sword. It was to be a secret from the rest of the family because swordplay was not suitable for a young lady. Still, she excelled often beating her older brothers.
If her boyish habits weren't enough, the fact that the village boys followed Alethea around like a real life Aphrodite come to Earth. What was worse was that Alethea had no interest in marrying any of them. Even the most prominent boys sought her wild ways but to no avail, Alethea was an unattainable creature, a trophy to be had but unable to be procured.
Olivus would never admit it, but Alethea held a special place in his heart. She could always get out of trouble with a smile, and to hear her sing was a true treat for the kindly old man. There was something about Alethea that captured one's imagination.
Olivus found Timonius in the yard but there was no sign of his eldest son.
"Where's Linnaeus?"
"The meadow," worry creased Timonius's face.
He fell into step with his father as they strolled over the grassy hill to the meadow just beyond view of the village. Linnaeus's big body came into view as he sparred with another familiar figure in the distance. Alethea, upon seeing her father in the distance, avoided Linnaeus's thrust and delivered a knick to his feet that had him sprawled out on the ground. He regained his feet quickly to avoid embarrassment.
"Linnaeus, you will go with me to speak face-to-face with Arion tomorrow," Olivus delivered his decision with finality.
The laughter immediately died from Linnaeus's face as he nodded once. He knew what the decision meant. He would lead the villagers into battle. As Olivus's son, it was his duty.
"The elders are ordering every young man to meet in the north clearing on the edge of the village. It is a good a place to fight as any, I suppose," something tender came over Olivus's face. "You will be the one they look up to now, Linnaeus. You are their leader. We leave soon to join them."
"I need to go to Myra--and the boys," Linnaeus said softly. Their game forgotten, Linnaeus dropped the wooden sword and left the clearing with little more than a nod to his sister.
Alethea's heart broke for her older brother. She loved all of her family dearly, but Linnaeus had a special place in her heart and to know that tomorrow may be the last time she would see him alive, was a sad thought indeed. She had known this moment was coming. Her father had prepared them well for the possibility of war when Arion began making a name for himself.
"Father," her voice brought his eyes to meet hers. "Is he as fair as you say?"
"I hope so, daughter. I hope so."
x.X.x.
"Do you think surrender is an option?"
Arion smiled at Playthus's youthful optimism. Countless campaigns at Arion's side and he still hoped for a peaceful resolution to every conflict. A decade had not changed him.
"They didn't bring their most able-bodied men to surrender," Arion said, his smile vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "They intend to bluff."
"Bluff?"
"These boys are not warriors. They're farmers, merchants, blacksmiths. They look brave but they're shaking in their boots."
"To be standing before your army is brave in itself."
"That's why they've done it. If I appreciate their bravery, I'll move on."
"Will you move on?" again that optimism.
Arion shook his head. "If they refuse to surrender, I will fight. Bravery or not, the War God wants a temple here. The people have prospered."
"At least offer them a fair surrender--"
"I always do. They never take it."
Playthus quieted as an old man and what could only be his son ride forward. Both had a set look about them.
"Arion," the older man nodded to Arion.
"What shall I call you?" Arion replied. "Since you know my name and I know not yours."
"Olivus and this is my son Linnaeus."
Arion nodded to Playthus. "This is Playthus, he acts as my conscience from time to time. Now, that introductions have been made, the terms are simple--a temple dedicated to Ares, an armory built for my army and twenty percent of your holdings."
"That is a very fair offer," Olivus said after a second of careful consideration. "But we will not surrender to you or any man."
"Please think," Playthus broke in, "before you make this decision. Surrender to an army like Arion's is not dishonorable--but wise! He will defeat you and take your women as slaves! Surrender ensures the safety of your people!"
"Arion is a fair man, sure he respects the rights of people who do not want to fight but will," Olivus's eyes never left Arion's.
"Death for what? Surrender means life."
"We will not surrender," Olivus repeated.
"Then prepare your men," Arion's voice silenced any other discourse. He reared his horse and returned to his front line.
"You have made a grave mistake," Playthus cast one more look at the dead men before him, and then took his place at the back of the army, away from the bloodshed.
"We have failed," Olivus said in defeat. "Don't let them give up, Linnaeus. Lead them well."
It was a war that no one wanted to fight. Both sides charged forward--the villagers were unprepared for the force that the trained army used to slam into them. The battle was over before it really began. There were a few strong fighters among the villagers but not enough to save them. It was a slaughter.
Then as if a miracle in the flesh, a masked figured appeared on the edge of the field riding a large stallion and charging through the fallen debris of soldiers as he cut a path through Arion's troops. The masked rider was fearless as he swung the heavy sword back and forth.
Arion's eyes riveted on the rider as he came to the rescue of Linnaeus and another man who fought back to back. He launched himself out of the saddle and tried to rally the few remaining shoulders. He fought until he was surrounded and could not fight anymore. Arion gave the order for the masked rider to be taken alive. The trained soldiers overtook Linnaeus and Olivus was brought forward and taken back to the camp. The battle was over. Arion smiled with satisfaction.
"That was disappointing," Ares appeared stepping over bodies as he approached. "I had rather hoped for more exciting proceedings."
Arion rolled his eyes. "They were farmers not soldiers."
Ares looked at him skeptically. "You saw something you liked."
"Some of them could fight. I'll spare them if they join me."
"Good luck. You just destroyed their village," Ares reminded him.
"I have the power of persuasion on my side."
"Yeah, sure you do," Ares disappeared leaving his laughter trailing after him.
V.
The prisoners were brought before Arion when he returned to camp. He sat in his tent, overlooking his next military conquest as Olivus and Linnaeus would brought to him, followed by the masked rider.
"Remove the mask," he ordered.
The rider struggled and was knocked down to his knees. The heavy helmet was removed, revealing a very female face.
"Alethea!" Olivus gasped, seeing his daughter. "It was you? I told you to stay with your mother--"
He was silenced by a blow to the head from one of the guards. Both Alethea and Linnaeus struggled to get to their father.
"Well, if it isn't just a family affair. So, the mysterious masked rider was the daughter. You fought better than the men you were defending," Arion said, walking around the desk and tilting her chin back to look him in the eye.
There was no deny that Alethea was a beautiful girl. She had long dark hair and light blue eyes and twinkled in the light. Her skin was tanned from constantly running about outside and she wore the leather breeches of her brothers into battle. Arion found himself desperately enamored of the girl at first sight.
"Let her go," Linnaeus pleaded. "She didn't know what she was doing. Please, let her rejoin my mother--"
"She knew what she was doing when she charged into my army," Arion answered. "She was saving her brothers and her father. I admire bravery, especially such selfless bravery."
"Bravery is not fighting unprepared villagers," she said in a low voice.
"They were given the chance to surrender," Arion replied. "They chose to fight."
"We chose to defend ourselves," Olivus said, drawing Arion's attention away from Alethea. "Let my daughter go. You have beaten us. You have won your victory. She is nothing to you."
Another look in her direction had Arion deciding on a course of action. "Then you acknowledge defeat?"
"Yes."
"No."
Arion looked at the girl who was defying him with her eyes. "Take the old man and his son away. Leave the girl."
The guards complied and Arion found himself left with Alethea. Picking up his sword, he circled the room and with one quick movement, she was released. She sat back on her heels and rubbed her wrists.
"You fought well today," he said softly. "I've never seen anyone move the way you moved today--as if the battle was inside you. You saved your brother's life."
"I merely prolonged it," she answered.
"But you would save it, if you could?" Arion asked.
She raised her eyes to his. "What do you mean?"
"If I gave you a chance to save your family and the families of all of the men here, would you?"
"Yes," she said without thinking.
"I thought you might say that," he said with a smile, moving back to his chair behind the heavy desk. "Join me."
She blinked and look at him. "What?"
"Join my army as an advisor to me. I'll spare your family and the families of all the villagers. They'll still have the terms of surrender but they'll have their freedom and their lives."
"And if I say no?"
"Then you'll join the women on their way to the slave market."
"Then what choice do I really have?"
"We all have a choice," he answered. "The question is how much do you love your family?"
She sighed. "My family is the most important thing to me and I would do anything to save them."
"Then join me."
She hesitated for a split second. "I have your word, you'll release them and Linnaeus can go home to Myra and his boys and my father can return to my mother and Timonius to his shop?"
"You have my word. Do I have yours?"
"You could just take me, you know, enslave me and make your own. Why would you make this trade with me?" she asked, looking at him closely.
Arion didn't have an easy answer for that. "I am a man who knows what he wants, and I want you to join me."
She blinked in surprise at his words. Arion very seriously doubted that the other men of the village didn't want her also, and probably chased her about. Why was she surprised that he voiced the same opinion.
She looked away and the back at him. "My father always said you were a fair man. He trusted your reputation."
"Then I have your word?"
She nodded, but her eyes were downcast. "I swear."
He longed to see those blue eyes again. She seemed so sad for having just saved her family. "Joining me is not such a great sacrifice--"
"They'll never forgive me," she mumbled.
Something about those eyes, he realized ensnared him. He could deal with death, pain and suffering, but those eyes haunted him more than the faces of thousands of dying men on battlefields across the globe.
"Playthus!"
The tall lanky man stumbled into the tent in an instant, having been waiting outside for orders.
"Take Alethea to my private tent. Have one of the slave girls to draw her a bath and find her something to wear. Then order a few men to help remove the wounded and dead villagers to the village. Release the prisoners and grant them their freedom."
Playthus's eyes grew wide. "You're letting them go?"
Arion nodded, his eyes never leaving Alethea's. She nodded ever so slightly and that was all Arion needed to know her gratitude.
Playthus helped her to her feet. They turned and were about to leave when Arion's voice stopped them.
"Alethea."
She turned.
"You won't regret it."
She nodded and was led away.
x.X.x.
"Release the prisoners!"
Two guards looked at Playthus but didn't move.
"Arion has ordered their release and you are to assist them in carrying their dead and wounded back to the village."
This spurred the men into action and the cages were opened. Linnaeus was the first out but halted in front of Playthus.
"Where's Alethea?"
Playthus looked away. "She traded her freedom for yours."
"Arion--" Linnaeus lurched forward but Playthus stopped him with much more strength than he knew he possessed.
"She won't be mistreated. He respects her far too much to ever hurt her. She knew what she had to do in order to save you. Please don't sentence yourself to death and make her efforts worthless."
Linnaeus stilled in memory of his sister.
"Go now. Take your dead and go back to your farm and live happily."
Linnaeus shoved away from Playthus and strolled toward the battlefield leaving Timonius to help Olivus.
"My daughter is Arion's whore," Olivus muttered as he passed Playthus.
"She saved your lives!" sputtered Playthus unable to believe it.
"I'd rather die than see her with the enemy! From this day forward, Alethea is no daughter of mine."
Playthus was struck speechless. Had no one in this village common reason? He allowed the old man and son to pass without further word. They would never understand what it had taken for the young Alethea to give up her freedom so they might be spared another day.
Arion's orders delivered, Playthus returned to his tent.
"I grow weary of these country villages."
Arion smiled at his friend without looking up from the map he was studying. "So soon?"
"These people have no concept of the bigger picture. Her father believes her a whore."
Arion's smile vanished. Very carefully, he put aside the map and concentrated on Playthus.
"They don't realize that she saved their lives. The old man will disown her. Her brother--the big one--was ready to kill you."
"As well he should. The father really called her a whore?"
Playthus nodded.
"I should have them erect a statue in her honor."
Playthus looked taken aback. "For one woman? You've risked angering your father releasing the prisoners like that."
"He'll get his temple, his tribute, his lovely young priestesses. He'll be fine," Arion said waving a dismissive hand.
"Then why do all of this for her? Has Aphrodite been to see you?"
"Love? Is that what you think this is? I merely respect her honor and courage. There is no place for love on the battlefield, Playthus."
Arion's oldest friend merely smiled knowingly.
"Go to the village, arrange a meeting. We must make arrangements for the temple and our taking. Did you order her bath?"
Playthus nodded.
"Good, I have given orders for dinner. Tonight, I will see if she was worth it."
"My, my, the might Arion does have a heart after all," Playthus murmured as he left the tent.
VI.
Arion bathed and dressed himself carefully. He mapped out the next conquest as a way of easing his mind as he found himself genuinely nervous. What was it about this woman--no more than a girl really--that made him so fidgety? He had crossed continents, sailed over the oceans, fought harsh barbarians, yet dinner with a beautiful woman was much more frightening.
He wanted her to like him.
The thought stopped him mid-stride. He could have enslaved her and taken what he wanted from the very first, but this time it was different. Arion had known many women and never once had he cared for what they felt for him. It was an old game and many of his women knew the score before the first move was made, but when he looked at Alethea, he only wanted to see affection.
Perhaps Playthus had been right, and Aphrodite in her infinite boredom had chosen Alethea to bewitch the might warlord. Still, he dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred, but not even Aphrodite could have given this woman the power to make him change his plans. He was not an easy man to like--in fact, he was probably the most hated man alive, and it was fact that had never bothered Arion until now. He liked to see the fear in their eyes as he brought down war and destruction upon them. He loved the feeling of total domination. He felt god-like when at war, powerful beyond his control.
Now, he prayed that he never saw that fear in Alethea's eyes. He didn't want another scared confidant who only told him what they thought he wanted to hear. He wanted an equal--someone to challenge him, to call him out.
Maybe that was what he saw in Alethea's defiant eyes as she refused to agree to defeat. Whatever it was, he had to snap out of this quiet reverie. It would not due for the most powerful warlord in Greece to be chasing after a woman. He knew well what they could do to a man--or a god, and he would not be like his father.
With his resolution made, Arion jerked the tent flap back with more forth than necessary. She sat at the table he'd ordered set up in a long silk gown made of purple silk. Her hair had been piled atop her head in a very pleasing way that left her neck bare to his hungry eyes. Arion drank in the sight of her.
Upon seeing him, she had jumped to her feet.
"Please, sit. I apologize for taking so long, I had matters to tend to," he lied graciously. He had been trying to get his nerve up.
"I should be thanking you for what you've done," she said in a quiet voice, her head bowed. "You've spared my family. I can think of no greater gift."
"I just hope you won't regret your decision," Arion replied quietly. "It isn't so bad."
"Your men have been very nice to me," she said glancing up at him.
"Good," he replied. "Your father and brothers have returned to the village and are settled back in. Tomorrow, I met with the council to discuss plans for the new temple."
She nodded.
"Would you like to come with me?"
"No, I don't believe that would be wise. I'll stay here, if it's all the same to you."
Arion looked at her closely. "Seeing you in good health should lessen the resentment--"
"It would only add to it. My father would have rather me died at your hand than be fed by it."
Arion looked away, trying to brush away the images of him feeding her. "You are welcome to stay here then. Perhaps you would do me a favor."
She looked at up.
"Playthus is my oldest and dearest friend, but he doesn't know how to handle a sword. I don't have the patience to teach him because he insists upon asking mundane question after question about it. Do you think you could teach him the basics?"
Alethea blushed. "I'm not sure I handle a sword well enough to teach anyone."
"I saw you today, Alethea. You were amazing. It would be a great help to me if you would," he met her eyes and for a moment, he felt the same sizzling attraction between them as he had earlier.
"I would be glad to," she answered softly, finding herself drawn to his deep voice and those eyes.
"Thank you."
They stared at each other for a long moment, the tension building in the room. Arion cleared his throat and looked away.
"So, tell me how you learned to handle a sword like that."
Alethea smiled in memory and found herself opening up to the man who had fought and spared her family.
Dinner was cleared away, and they were still talking. Alethea had a musical laugh and when she spoke of her adventures as a girl on a country farm, Arion found himself smiling with her and soon he began sharing stories of his past with her as well, something he never did. She seemed to forget what had transpired earlier and kept talking about her life before that morning. She had many stories to tell and surprisingly Arion wanted to hear of them. She would listen to whatever he had to say with rapt attention. After the candles had burned low on the table, Arion escorted her to the plush pillows that lay strewn about in the tent. She gently reclined on one and he on the other facing her.
"I should hate you," Alethea blurted out in her usual manner, her shyness forgotten as she told him of her family. There had been a pause in the conversation and the awareness that they were all alone had started to grow. They were no longer enemies to some degree and not yet friends.
"You should," Arion agreed.
"Why don't I?"
"I don't know," he answered.
"Does that make me a bad person?" she asked, her eye widened in fear of his answer.
"No," he answered softly, his gaze lingering on her mouth.
"You've been very kind to me. You've spared my family and given me nice things, still you are a vicious warlord known for your cruelty as well as your fairness."
"We are all complex creatures," Arion leaned closer to her. "I should kiss you."
Her breath caught in her throat. "You should."
"Why don't I?"
"I don't know," she replied softly, as his hand took hers.
He leaned in closer and captured her lips in a searing kiss--something he'd been wanting to do since she had been revealed to him.
He pulled away after a few sensual moments. "Does that make me a bad person?"
x.X.x.
Alethea awoke to a hand covering her mouth. She barely stopped from biting it when she realized that it was Linnaeus standing over her.
"Alethea, get up, we're leaving," he moved his hand and took her arm to assist her in an upright position.
"I can't," she whispered, glancing around nervously. "I gave my word--"
"What's your word to a ruthless murdering warlord?" Linnaeus hissed.
"He didn't murder you or Papa," she answered, not daring to light a candle. She didn't want to admit that there was more to Arion than the rumors, that he was a handsome man and a phenomenal kisser. "He spared your lives, and now I must keep my end of the deal."
Linnaeus looked at his baby sister as if seeing her for the first time. "You can't stay here."
"I can't go back," she replied sadly. She hugged her brother's big frame. "Linnaeus, I know what I'm doing. If I had to do it all over again, I would have done the same. Go back to your farm and your family. Take care of Mama and Papa, they'll need you more than ever."
"Thank you," Linnaeus whispered. "Papa doesn't realize it yet--what you've done--but I'll make sure that he does."
"Let him think what he wants," Alethea replied. "This is probably the one thing I could do for him, and maybe someday he'll see that."
"Alethea," Linnaeus struggled with his tears. Then stepping back from his sister he looked around the tent. "Where is he?"
"He left."
"He didn't--"
She shook her head. "No, he didn't."
It had been a strange set of events that had led to Arion's leaving his own tent. He had kissed her again, and entwined their legs and Alethea felt an excitement she'd never known before. Then he stopped, stood up, kissed her hand and told her,
"Not like this. When it is time, it will happen."
He disappeared leaving her opinion of him still very high. Now, she slept in his bed in his tent pleading with her brother to sneak away.
"You have to go, Linnaeus. I don't know how you snuck back, but you can't be found here. Give the family my love."
"You're the bravest of us all," he whispered softly.
She smiled through her tears. She had to be strong now, not just for herself but for him too. "I know."
He hugged her one last time, and then Alethea forcibly shoved him through the tent flaps and watched from the distance as he snuck out of the camp, feeling as though her heart was breaking. When she turned around, Arion stood by the bed, his presence filling up the entire room.
Alethea jumped in fright. How had he gotten into the tent?
"You could have gone," he murmured.
"Your guards could have stopped him when he entered the camp," she replied knowingly.
"I wanted to see what you would choose," he answered.
"I gave you my word."
"And I gave you mine," a faint smile crossed his lips. "You have made me happier than I have been in a long time, Alethea."
"Then you're not angry?" she asked, skeptically.
"I would have let you go, if you had wanted," he said softly. "You still can if you wish."
"I believe my place is here now," she said softly.
"I do too," he agreed softly, kissing her hand and leading her back to the bed. "Goodnight, Alethea."
Then he was gone, living her to ponder over just who was this coldhearted warlord who curled her toes with his kisses and allowed her to sleep in his bed…alone.
"Goodnight," she whispered more to herself than to him.
Outside from his position by the tent, he heard it and found himself smiling as the dark faded into light.
Stay tuned for Part II…Let me know what you think!!