Ian (26 page)

“Now, let me go,” she said. Her clear, deep blue eyes begged though her words were calculated and cool. How could anyone be frightened of such a gentle girl? She looked as if she needed a strong man to protect her, and he couldn’t believe she’d do anyone harm.

“I would make a deal with you,” he said instead. “You get me into Castle Calila without anyone knowing why I’m there, and I won’t expose you to Lord Solomon as the spy he’s been trying to hunt down and kill.”

“But you mean to be a part of attacking my father’s castle,” she protested.

“Same as you meaning to be a part of attacking Banesmoor. So the way I see it, we are even.”

“I cannot allow Banesmoor to attack Calila.”

“And I cannot allow you to give information that would seal the doomed fate of Lord Solomon and his people either.”

“I won’t do what you ask.”

“Then I hav
e no choice but to bring you before the lord of Banesmoor.”

He reached out for her but once again she disappeared from his sight. He groped at the air, but couldn’t find her. Then he saw her horse turn and ride off quickly, and he rushed to his own steed to follow.

“Sir Braden,” called out Sir Samuel, riding up to join him. “I saw you groping at mid-air in an odd fashion.” He cocked his head and studied him as if he thought he were addled. “What were you doing, if I may ask?”

“I am following someone,” he said, mounting his horse.

Sir Samuel looked in the distance at the lone horse riding away and then back to him. “You are chasing a horse without a rider?” he asked. “I hardly think Lord Solomon would find that courageous. Mayhap he was wrong in choosing you to marry his daughter after all. I am not sure you would be able to protect her as promised.”

Braden watched the horse disappear in the distance and knew he couldn’t follow without looking like a fool. He’d pledged his fealty to Lord Solomon now, as well as accepted the betrothal of his daughter. As a knight of his word, he would follow through with what he’d started.

“If you would be kind enough to tell Lord Solomon I will not be joining him back at the castle, I’d appreciate it.”

“Another horse to chase?” the man asked with a smile.

“Nay. A spy to catch,” he answered, taking off in the direction of Mount Calila to do the job that was now expected of him.

Excerpt from
Thief of Olympus:

(Greek Myth Fantasy
Series)

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Lysandra stood amongst the Amazon warriors, watching their ritual dance around the blazing fire. Flames of orange and yellow stretched up to the velvet night sky, wisps of smoke reaching all the way up to Mount Olympus. This was her night. The night she’d been awaiting for the last one and twenty years. Now she would become a woman and earn the right of calling herself an Amazon warrior.

The sweat beaded beneath her thick robe, running in rivulets between her breasts. The wool scratched her skin like the claws of a Harpy digging at her bare flesh underneath. She looked forward to shedding the ceremonial garment soon, but at the same time feared the act to come.

She watched her Amazon sisters - as all the women of the tribe were called - as they twirled and turned, chanting the Amazonite words that always accustomed the coming-of-age ceremony. Their voices echoed in the crisp night, beating against her mind and pressing against her confidence. Soon, she would join them as a woman of the tribe. Soon she would lose her virginity, coupling with a man she neither knew nor had chosen of her own accord.

Short animal hide skirts and tight, small tops stretched across the Amazons’ bronzed skin. Their feet clad in warrior boots made from speckled goatskin, they stomped upon the hard earth causing little puffs of dust to rise to the surface. They wore girdles around their waists that encased their weapons: knives, swords, and clubs. Some had quivers of arrows strapped to their backs and bows raised in their hands. Lysandra’s chosen weapon was the sword. Her strength showed in her ability to fight fast and agile.

She’d been trained as a warrior since the day her mother, Medora, queen of the Amazons, had lain with a man of her choosing and birthed the stronger of the genders - a female child. The Amazons hated men. All men. Amazon women were by far the better gender. The female babies were kept and raised among the tribe. The male babies were sacrificed to Artemis, their patron goddess.

Lysandra respected the Amazon ways, but killing babies was not a custom she would ever agree to. When she became queen, she would change their ancient traditions. But for now, she could only hope that when she birthed her first child it would be a girl.

One of the women ran a tortoise shell comb through Lysandra’s long, red hair and gently turned her away from the fire to meet her chosen mate. The queen stepped forward clutching the long, oaken hair of a man tightly in her grip. He struggled against her, but his hands were shackled behind him and his feet were in chains. A heavy iron collar was clasped around his neck and several of the Amazons held on to the chains connected to it.

Anxiety coursed through Lysandra’s body. Curious to finally couple with a man, yet anxious to have the deed already completed. She’d heard some of the Amazons say it was pleasurable, but that was only whispered through the rushes. Men were not brought to their camp for pleasure. They were brought there for duty only. ’Twas their only purpose in life to plant the seed of a future female warrior within the Amazon nation.

The queen threw the man down at Lysandra’s feet and his face rubbed into the dust, only the back of his head visible for her perusal.

“Raise your face to my daughter,” came Medora’s snarl. Still, the man did not obey. Then with a swift kick to his backside, the queen repeated her order.

Lysandra’s insides quivered. This was the man she would take before the night was through, though she had yet to see his face. She reached out to touch his head, but before her fingers met with his hair, he raised his face to her.

Anger, yet cunning blazed in his golden eyes, seeping right through her. His face handsome, but dirty, his long hair hung around him, the ends brushing against the ground. Lysandra couldn’t help but stare at his regal features as he held his head high and proud. Chiseled cheekbones and a slight hawk-like sweep of his nose gave him a noble composure. Bushy eyebrows and deep-set eyes made him look dangerous yet mysterious at the same time.

“Do you know what is expected of you?” Lysandra asked the man.

“He’s been informed,” interrupted the queen.

“You disgust me,” he growled.

Lysandra pulled her hand back, feeling her own disgust at the man’s insolence. Didn’t he realize the honor of mating with one of the powerful, undefeated women of her tribe?

“No man has ever denied an Amazon,” warned Queen Medora, “and neither will you. You have been chosen by my own hand to be the first man to couple with my daughter, Lysandra, at her coming-of-age. The moon is right for her time and she shall conceive your baby this night.” Medora tugged at the chain connected to his iron collar, and brought the man to a standing position.

He stood before Lysandra, towering over her by head and shoulders, triggering off her instinct to draw her sword in defense though she hadn’t one on her being. His mere stance dominated the scene, his composure saying he could match any one of the Amazon warriors. His shoulders straightened and his chin raised as her mother reached up and took hold of the front of his garment. With one powerful yank, she tore the cloth from his body, but he never even flinched. He just stared at Lysandra, his gaze rattling every one of her nerves. Donned in nothing now but a cloth covering his loins, his tanned skin shone in the light of the night fire. Had she not been weaponless and about to mate with this man, her composure would have been solid. But tonight she’d lose her virginity, and Lysandra was not used to losing anything.

“No woman has ever treated me as thus,” he told her in a warning voice. “I advise you not to couple with me. If you do, you’ll regret it.”

“Be still!” she shouted. “Do not talk to an Amazon with such tone.”

The Amazon warriors pulled on the chains at his neck, meaning to punish him for his threat. His feet planted firmly, his solid body did not move. The veins in his neck bulged, but he did not cry out in pain. His chest glistened with beads of sweat, shining in the firelight, and Lysandra’s eyes were drawn to his muscular form. He would make the seed of a strong warrior baby. He could give her a daughter who would someday rule the Amazon nation with strength and courage. She prayed he’d give her a girl so she could raise the child to be as strong as both this man and herself. She prayed to the gods their union would not bring about a boy and be a wasted act.

“Let go of the chains,” demanded Lysandra, and the Amazons dropped them to the ground.

“Lysandra, don’t be foolish,” warned her mother. “He is not to be trusted. He may run before the union is consummated.”

“He’s too proud to run.” Lysandra circled the man, seeing by the twitch in his jaw that her comment was true. “This man needs to be taught a lesson.” She grabbed his chin in her hand, squeezing as she brought his face closer to hers. “Tonight you will learn how to treat an Amazon properly.” She released her hold, seeing the marks of her fingers upon his skin. The man never even blinked at her action. “Take him to my tent,” she instructed.

Several of the women did just that. He had to duck very low to enter, enabling Lysandra to see the muscles of his backside. His legs were thick and strong. She was sure other parts of him were the same.

Once inside the tent, she instructed the women to strip him, then leave them alone. They removed his cloth, leaving him naked. With a slight bow of their heads to the Amazon princess, they left the tent.

He turned to face her, his head scraping the ceiling. The candlelight lit up his body, enabling her to see each and every muscle. She twirled the amethyst stone ring on her finger, the jewelry that identified her as the princess of her tribe. She spun it around with her thumb, staring at his face, not letting her eyes travel lower.

His dark gaze encompassed her, mesmerizing her in a way she never thought possible. She was drawn to this man. An attraction she didn’t understand. She’d been trained and raised to hate all men, but this one intrigued her. He held a secret deep inside of which she could not decipher -a dangerous secret that was well guarded. Lysandra liked challenges, and this man challenged her with not only his words but with his stance and the brash way he looked directly into her eyes. She met his stare, wondering as to where he had gained his courage to stand up against a tribe of Amazons. His eyes told her nothing in return.

“So you like my face,” he commented casually. “Afraid to look lower? I think you’ll be pleased by what you see there as well.”

The heat rushed to her cheeks at his insinuation. He was only a man. He shouldn’t be in control of her emotions. He had caught her by surprise, and she despised that. It made her weak, and she was not a weak woman.

“I will not have a man telling me what to do.”

“Ah,” he said. “Then if you do not want to look at me, at least allow me to see your own body hidden under that thick robe.”

“Be silenced, you cur!” she shouted, not believing his audaciousness.

“Perhaps you need help disrobing?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Your hands and legs are chained,” she pointed out. “I hardly think - ”

She never finished her sentence. His arms shot out from behind his back…unchained. He rubbed one foot against the other in an awkward motion that somehow unlocked the manacles around his ankles. He stepped forward, free from his confinements.

“What makes you think your chains can hold me?”

He reached to the ground and took a thin metal pick from between his bare toes. He managed to unlock the iron collar around his neck in one quick motion. He held the shackle out in front of him for her to see, then dropped it to the ground. It clanked and landed with a dense thud upon the dirt floor.