Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) (20 page)

Twenty

Zarek followed Artemis into the great hall, stopping to look at the grandeur of a feast of the gods of Olympus. The room was enormous in size, but then again, so were some of the deities.

Zeus was a large man, filling the space of his high-backed throne completely. He waved his goblet toward the minstrels who struck up a new tune. His beard was long and white, flowing clearly down to his feet. His arms were strong and his chest massive from throwing thunderbolts through the sky.

“Hera, my wife,” he called out, bringing the goddess forward. “Sit by my side,” he said, motioning to the throne next to him.

Hera was a woman of few words. Her eyes were dark and painted, and her clothes as colorful as a peacock. She was known to have a temper hotter than Hades, but tonight she looked elegant and as if naught could rile her. She sat at his side and smiled gently at the crowd.

“What are you gaping at?” snapped Artemis. “You act as if you have never seen Olympus before.”

Zarek brought his attention back to the matter at hand, remembering he was supposed to act as if he belonged there.

“May I walk you to the table?” he asked, once again cringing when he realized how polite he’d been.

“Don’t bother,” she said, throwing her nose up in the air and going to mingle with the rest of the guests.

Zarek had never seen so many gilded items in his life. ’Twas as if King Midas himself had set foot in the place, touching everything he could. Golden walls encompassed the room, with long banners of rich purple silk hanging down so long he was sure they were connected to the clouds. Clouds did float up toward the ceiling, as well as sparkling stars, although they were inside this room which held the feast.

A large beam of light came from the ceiling, bright as the sun. He had overheard ’twas Apollo’s gift to the feast, lighting up the huge table filled with fruits, mostly grapes, and rich succulent wines, the gift of the wine god, Dionysus. Aphrodite had sprinkled the room with glittering shells from the sea, floating in mid-air, and each shell was painted with dozens of tiny hearts.

Ares had made a big show of displaying his weapons of war, not only on the walls, but at each place setting as well. Large urns graced the corners of the room, filled with peacock feathers from Hera, giving the room an overall feeling of elegance.

Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, read from a huge book that was floating in the air before her. She told tales of history and ancient wisdom of their forefathers, the Titans. And Hades, so eagerly, with a flick of a finger, added fire to every sconce and even lit the top of the three-tiered fountain of wine, surrounded by hundreds of Persephone’s exotic flowers.

In his awe, Zarek had almost forgotten why he was there and was brought back to the matter at hand when he heard the crying of a baby fill the room. He looked up quickly to see a servant hurrying across the floor to Artemis with a baby in her hands.

“Goddess Artemis,” the woman cried. “Please forgive me, but I cannot stop the baby from crying.”

The gods and goddesses looked up one by one, disturbed by the noise of the child. Zarek didn’t need to look closer to know this baby was Sander. He’d heard that cry many times before while walking the battlements of Thrace. His heart filled with glee to know his baby was still alive. But when Artemis picked Sander up by one of his little hands and held him from her like she didn’t want to be near him, Zarek’s heart about leapt from his chest.

“Cannot you stop that baby from crying and ruining the celebration?” growled Zeus.

“He cries day and night,” replied Artemis. “I’ve been thinking of killing him right here for naught else than a form of entertainment.”

“No!” Zarek jumped forward, and Artemis’s head snapped in his direction.

“What did you say?”

Zarek cursed himself silently, knowing he had probably not only ruined his plan to stay unnoticed, but would be reprimanded by Artemis once again.

Sure enough, before he could answer, she twisted her free wrist and a flash of bright light came toward him. He dived out of the way and it did not harm him, but when he saw the look on her face, he decided to moan and pretend he’d been injured, if only from keeping her from striking him again.

A smile of satisfaction crossed her face, and she asked him once again, “What did you say?”

“I said, my fair goddess, no need for you to have to hold a crying mortal. Do allow me to do it for you.”

A pleased yet suspicious glance told him he would have to be more careful while in Olympus.

“All right,” she said, motioning him forward. “Come take this crying whelp off my hands.”

He hurried forward and reached out for the baby, but Artemis pulled Sander away at the last moment, letting him dangle dangerously from her fingers.

“What did you say your name was, guard? And why haven’t I seen you here before?”

As a thief he could get out of many tight situations, but this one had to be the tightest. But luck was on his side when Zeus interrupted.

“Oh, Artemis, enough already. Guard, bring me the baby.”

Zarek breathed in relief at the turn of situations. He grabbed for Sander as Artemis dropped him into his hands. His fingers closed protectively around the baby’s small body, and he felt a weight lifted from his shoulders when he saw little Sander’s face. He jostled him lightly and rubbed a loving hand over the baby’s back as he took his time bringing him to Zeus. The baby must have recognized his touch because his wails turned to slight whimpers, and his eyes opened to stare at his father.

“Oh, Sander,” he whispered so no one could hear. “You do not know how much I’ve missed you.”

The room went silent little by little at the void of crying, and all eyes were on him. He hurriedly placed the baby on Zeus’s lap and bowed down before him.

“You most certainly have a calming effect on babies,” Zarek said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Look, King Zeus, you have stopped the child from crying.”

Zeus looked down to the baby and a smile spread across his face. “Yes, yes I did, didn’t I?”

Hera looked over and nodded. But when Zarek stood and little Sander realized it was not his father holding him, he once again bawled. It pained Zarek to do so, but he turned and quickly left the room.

*  *  *

Lysandra’s horse trekked slowly up the mountain, and she couldn’t help but feel her mental anguish more than her physical pain. She wasn’t at all sure what she was doing was right, and knew if only she had a stronger plan, she may be able to actually carry out the act of saving little Sander.

But she knew Zarek well enough to know he would never let her have the chance. She couldn’t compete with a thief in the night. Having warrior skills were to her advantage, but being wounded, she wasn’t even sure she could fight. And what good would her skills be against the powerful gods and goddesses of Olympus?

Nay, she needed something more. Something that would give her leverage. Something that would make the gods want to return the baby to her, unharmed. She knew she could never again worship Artemis, or count on her for protection. She had to look elsewhere. She had to go to the other gods and beg their mercy. Mayhap if she groveled at their feet, they’d hand the baby over.

As fast as the idea hit her, she dismissed it. The gods would not look upon her favorably after she’d pilfered their most precious belongings. But, she reminded herself, Apollo had been enthralled with her enough to want to couple with her. And Dionysus had wanted her to dance with him after drinking his wine. Wine that he so graciously shared with her, a mere mortal, from his precious goblet. She didn’t know how she would convince Zeus, the king of the gods to look upon her with favor, but she did know that she would find a way before it came to that.

Yes, she decided, she would try to please the gods and lure them to her side. If they saw she was only a pawn in Artemis’s little game then perhaps they’d take pity on her. But to go to the home of the gods without bringing some kind of gift or offering was to show disrespect. She needed something worthy of a god to lay at their feet, but she had nothing. As the temple of Artemis loomed before her in the darkness, she realized she had found her answer. Inside lay the stolen items of the gods, which she planned on using to her advantage. Yes, she would go to Olympus with gifts fit for the gods after all!

*  *  *

Zarek watched from the corridor as Zeus handed the baby back to the servant girl, and argued with Artemis. It seemed Zeus had taken a liking to the child and ’twas because of him his daughter had not yet killed little Sander. He had to act fast. If Zeus realized he was being betrayed and a thief was within his walls, he would stop Zarek from completing his task.

“Where is that guard?” Artemis asked her father. “Something about him was not right. He knew not how to act within the palace walls. Someone is here who does not belong here.”

“Aye, he was different than the rest,” Zeus agreed. “I think you might be right. I’ll send my guards out at once to find him.”

Zarek slipped quietly into a darkened room, happy to find exactly what he needed. A rack of servant tunics lined the wall, and he wasted no time in changing his attire. The sound of Sander’s cries echoed off the walls, and he waited in the dark until the servant girl walked past. Then, slipping out into the hall, he followed her up the stairs. He would enter when she left Sander alone in the room, and take back what was rightfully his.

He waited in the corridor, thinking he heard another voice from within the chamber. He waited and waited, and finally, when the door opened, he was surprised to see the giggling servant girl exiting the room with Apollo. She locked the door with a big golden key and handed it to the god.

“I’ll watch over this for safe keeping, just as I’ve promised my twin sister, Artemis,” he said, fastening the key onto a chain he wore around his neck, and slipping it under his tunic.

Zarek moved forward quietly to pick the lock, which shouldn’t have been a problem, but two guards walked up just then, blocking his way to the door.

“Artemis has instructed us to guard the door,” said one.

“Of course, but I was sent to try to calm the baby,” he tried to convince them.

“Let us see the key,” said the other. “No one may enter unless they have the key.”

Zarek apologized for his ignorance and slipped back down the stairs, wondering where to find Apollo. That’s when he heard a voice from yet another room that sounded like that of Lysandra. He would have thought it impossible for her to be here, since when he last saw her she was barely moving upon his bed. But when he poked his head around the corner to what he discovered was the kitchen, he knew his troubles had started once again.

“Oh, great Dionysus,” she said, groveling at the feet of the wine god. “I can only ask you to humbly forgive me for approaching you so boldly.”

“I remember you, Lysandra,” he said cautiously. “You are the one who stole my golden chalice. Without it I have lost all my followers and have not known a moment of pleasure.”

“I am your devoted follower,” she said, “and I have come to return what the king thief has stolen.” To Zarek’s surprise, she opened the bag she clutched and pulled out Dionysus’s golden chalice.

Had Lysandra gone out of her mind? What did she think she was doing? Why had she come to Olympus? Now that Lysandra was here, his plans would be spoiled. The god Dionysus was sure to be furious, and punish her even though Zarek had been the one to steal the chalice. But to his astonishment, the wine god smiled. The blue-skinned deity grasped the chalice in one hand and Lysandra in the other as he pulled her to her feet.

“Drink of the fruit of the vine with me,” he said, using his chalice to dip into a vat of wine. The purple liquid splashed over the rim as he handed it to Lysandra.

“Oh, but I cannot,” she told him, only causing a frown to come to his face.

“You said you were my devoted follower. You so humbly asked for my forgiveness. If you expect me to pardon what your lover has done, then you must drink with me to prove your words now are sincere.”

Don’t do it, Lysandra
, Zarek warned her through his thoughts. But to his dismay, she raised the chalice to her lips.

“Drink fully,” Dionysus instructed.

Lysandra pulled the collar higher of the robe - his robe - she wore, and played with her long red hair, twirling it back and forth in her fingers in front of her mouth as she accepted the chalice and took a sip.

Zarek squeezed his eyes closed, waiting for her to turn giddy.

“Drink more,” Dionysus instructed, and Zarek opened his eyes to see her empty the contents and hand the chalice back to him.

“How do you feel?” asked the god, taking his finger and running it down her chest. Lysandra smiled and giggled and Zarek knew it was all over. He would never be able to concentrate on getting his son when he’d have to pull Lysandra away from each and every male there. Now that she’d once again indulged in the wine of the god of lust, she would be a hindrance distracting him from his original plan.

“I feel fine,” she answered steadily. “And I do believe your wine no longer affects me.”