Lykon transported himself through the aether to the woods just outside the kingdom of Triz. Unlike his father and his aunt Aphrodite, who would often just pop in on mortals willy-nilly, Lykon found that in dealing with the lesser species it was better to walk among them as one of them, It seemed to make them less fearful, less nervous. And in business negotiations, he liked his potential partners to be clear and level headed. With the twist of his gloved hand he summoned his black stallion, Hammer. The massive, magnificent best emerged from the veil between worlds in a full gallop. As he neared his master, he reared up on his hind legs, then brought his front hooves down in a thunderous clop. Lykon stroked the horse along his neck.
"Good to see you too, friend."
The god swung up into the saddle then prodded the horse toward the road just beyond the treeline. When they reached the road, Lykon noted how badly it was in need of repairs. Still, knowing Hammer was safe from mortal danger, he squeezed his thighs against the beast and called, "yah!" Hammer broke into a full gallop.
After about five minutes of exhilarating riding, the shining castle that was the centerpiece of Triz's beauty came into view. Lykon could see why the kingdom had recently become prey to warlords and tribal to the manors on Olympus the castle was a modest home, but in relation to other human hovels, it was quite magnificent. It was easy to see why some would see it as a sign of prosperity or even ostentation. Either way a target for those daring enough, stupid enough, or both.
The rest of the region had suffered from becoming a province of Rome. But the two kingdoms of Triz and Liberium had done well under Roman rule. Their kings had both been allowed to remain on their thrones in exchange for paying a generous tax to the Roman tax collectors and recognizing the Thracian provincial governor, ultimately Rome as the final arbiter of law in the land.
Things had been going well until the king of Liberium was deposed, dethroned, and decapitated by a band of barbarians from the north. They sacked the city, killed all of its able bodied men, took the women and children and left nothing but soot and rubble in their wake. King Lias II of Triz had appealed to the Thracian governor but no Roman reinforcements had come to avenge his cousin's kingdom. Even worse for Lias, he was told that if the vandals were to come for his kingdom that the Roman forces in Thrace were already spread too thin to come to his aid. That was when Lias had reached out to Lykon, a weaponsmith and arms dealer. He just also happened to be a young god on the make but Lias was none the wiser to that fact. And Lykon intended on keeping it that way. This would be a business transaction, nothing more. No worship needed. .
Lykon pulled on Hammer's reins as he neared the city gates. "Whoa boy."
The gate guards eyed him warily. Strangers were not to be trusted these days in these parts.
One of the guard's fist tightened around his pike as he called, "state your business."
Lykon dismounted but kept Hammer's reins in his right hand. He didn't need to keep hold of the horse, he knew he wouldn't roam off and even if he did, Lykon could call him back with a thought. But mortals were possessive of their mounts and often kept them close until they stabled them. Also, having his hand visible was a way to show he wasn't a threat. "I have business with your king," Lykon responded calmly and casually. "May I?" he asked as he pointed to his silver studded leather vest with his free hand.
The guard nodded.
Lykon reached into his vest and produced a scroll. He handed it to the guard who unrolled it and skimmed through it. Satisfied, he nodded to the other guard who began unbarring the city gates.
The first guard handed him back the scroll. "Stables are just inside to the right. Present this scroll to the guard at the castle entrance."
"Thank you gentlemen." Lykon tucked the invitation back into his vest for safekeeping and walked through the gates trailing Hammer behind him.
Once he'd left a small deposit with the stabler, Lykon began to make his way to the castle. The route he took went through the market and he was happy to note that supplies seemed to be readily available. The citizens also seemed happy and generally healthy. In some ways it was an idyllic kingdom. He knew if war came knocking on its doors things would change drastically, and likely for generations. Funny, he didn't sense the general anxiety that humans usually felt when they were on the brink of war. Had they lived peacefully for so long that they couldn't fathom it? Or did they trust so readily in King Lias's leadership?
As he studied the town, a group of rowdy youngsters came running through the agora. "We're gonna miss it," one little boy said.
"She'll wait for us," an older girl of about ten said.
Like lightning, they streaked through the street, and were gone as fast as they had come.
"Fresh bread, fresh bread," a middle aged woman called from a stall to the crowd in general.
"Fish cake, Sir?" Another woman held her plate of wares in front of Lykon, bringing them up so that he could smell the greasy treats. "Two for a dinar," she smiled and Lykon couldn't help but find her missing tooth charming. He reached into the pouch that he wore at his belt and dug out a dinar.
He waited until he was out of her eyesight before he demateralized the fish cake into thin air. He had no need for human food. He had sampled some of it and found it to be dull and bland in comparison to ambrosia and nectar. It was bearable but not satiating. But those fish cakes had reeked of days old grease and pungent fish. He wasn't about to have fish breath be his first impression with a potential client.
Lykon turned another corner and saw the castle steps before him. The outer courtyard was alive with even more people than the market. It didn't take him long to discover why. In the southeastern corner of the courtyard people gathered around an older silver haired woman. The children who'd been in such a hurry when they passed him in the market had apparently reached their destination. They had edged into the front row on the right side of the semi-circle and were listening intently.
Behind the woman, another woman began playing a flute softly and a young man kept rhythm on a hand drum.
The old woman continued her story, "it was a time of ancient gods, warlords, and kings, the land was in turmoil. . . ."
As the old woman's words faded out, Lykon thought the old woman could be describing Triz today. They had warlords and vandals creeping ever closer. Which reminded him of the urgency of his trip and he made his way up the castle steps.
The guard showed him to the atrium, invited him to enjoy a glass of wine and some fresh fruit while he sent for the king.
Knowing that it would be rude to ignore Lias' hospitality, Lykon poured himself a glass of wine and noshed on a fig while he studied the magnificent artwork in the spacious room. The floor tiles featured a mosaic of a golden harp surrounded by a royal blue border. It was almost as lovely as the polished marble floor in the Great Hall on Olympus. Almost. Painted portraits lined one wall. Lykon studied the portrait of Lias I, a wispy, almost frail white haired man with kind eyes and a gentle smile. When Lykon's eyes fell on the next portrait, he flinched. The words beneath the portrait read Diana I, Queen and wife of Philemon the Fair. But Lykon was having trouble reconciling the words with the image because Lykon knew the image and he knew it well. He'd seen it far too many times in portrait, and on tapestries. The face was also the same as the statue that had sneered at him from his father's courtyard in the Halls of War.
"My mother," a voice called from behind Lykon. It was all he could do to turn from the painting.
"She was very beautiful, your Grace." Lykon affected a little head bow. He couldn't bring himself to fully bow or genuflect to a mortal.
"In face and in spirit. My father," Lias pointed to the image of Philemon, was as in love with her as I was my own dear wife."
Lykon's eyes moved over Philemon's face to the painting next to his. A dark haired woman of middle age looked out at him with clear blue eyes and a smile that was almost impish. The label below it read, Eve, wife and Queen Consort of King Lias II, Messenger of Eli.
If gods' hearts could stop. Lykon's would have. He actually felt himself stumble. He braced his hand on a nearby table. Xena's daughter, the bringer of Twilight, was the King's wife.
"By the Almighty, are you alright?" Lias hurried to help Lykon steady himself.
Lykon got a hold on himself. Smoothed his hand down his vest. "Yes, yes, just a long journey. I think I need to rest."
"Of course, I should have considered. Accept my apologies. I do have rooms prepared for you. I'll have my daughter show you to your quarters."
"Thank you, I would appreciate that very much. Please give my apologies to your wife that I can't greet her just now."
"Sorry, I think you misunderstood. My wife died some ten years ago."
"Died?' Lykon asked. The gods had heard rumors that Eve jad gone east but no one had reported the fact that she'd been living as a Queen in their own territory! He smelled his father's stench all over the fact that she'd gone undetected. Somehow, Ares had been protecting his whore's seed. Was that the true reason Triz had remained so prosperous?
"Yes, and even though it's been a decade, I miss her desperately."
"Sorry for your loss," Lykon managed to choke out.
Lias waved a hand at a page that had been standing in a nearby corner.
"If you find anything in your quarters not to your liking, let me know at once. I'm very eager to discuss business with you. But it can certainly wait until you've had a chance to refresh yourself. And, we want you to be as comfortable as if you were at home."
Lykon knew that was impossible. The comforts of Earth paled in comparison to the luxuries of Olympus. But he said, "thank you," nonetheless.
"I'll be happy to send a plate up to your rooms as well. I believe we have lamb chops but I can ask the kitchen to prepare you anything you fancy."
"Lamb is fine." Lykon couldn't stop looking at the two photos of Diana and Eve. His mind was trying to wrap his head around the fact that Xena was this man's mother but also his mother-in-law. Half of him wanted to bale on the whole deal, leave Triz and its people to their fates. Let the vandals and the warlords take them all. But the other part of him, the part that was curious about his father's role in all of it, made him continue with the charade. "And, I look forward to doing business with you too, your Grace."
"Good, good! Ah, here she comes. I'd know those sure steps anywhere."
"Father," Lias's daughter called as she walked into the atrium.
Lias put a hand at his daughter's back and extended the other hand outward to indicate Lykon and said, "Lykon, might I present my daughter–"
"Xena?" Lykon said before Lias could finish the introduction.
"You've met?" Lias struggled to hide the shock in his voice.
"Um, no, I uh," he stammered. "I heard it mentioned on the street. In the market. Someone was talking about your unmatched beauty." And it was. Completely and unquestionably unmatched. Lykon had seen her face a million times but he'd never seen it in life. And it was something to behold.
"Well, auntie Gabrielle says I have my grandmothers to thank for my looks." She pointed at the portrait of Diana and then to a tapestry across the room that depicted Xena, chakram in hand, slaying the gods."
Lykon looked back and forth between the tapestry and the portrait of Diana. He thought his head was literally going to explode and a new Athena would burst to life. But before he could respond, Xena continued, "Let me show you to your room."