The Trials of Hercules (20 page)

“Stop him before he crashes into the hedge,” Eury yells as the stag charges toward the high, squared-off laurel hedge that surrounds the property.

Cery continues his race to the barrier. Once to it, he gives only the slightest pause. Then, with a quick twitch of his legs, he bounds over the hedge. Eury’s face changes from fear to fury faster than Cery’s leap over the laurel.

“Get him. Go get him,” he shouts to anyone who will listen.

“He’s gone,” Herc says. “Back home to Artemis where he belongs.”

“You failed,” Eury screams. His cheeks flush red. “Guards, take him and the Herene as well since it’s quite obvious she was his companion in this. Honestly, Priestess, it’s bad enough you make no effort to hide your shameful behavior by showing up in traveling clothes, but you could have at least cleaned the dirt from your face if you intended to fool me.” The guards already have Herc’s arms in their grip. He doesn’t struggle and keeps his head held high. “You will die, Cousin. And this time there will be no delays.” Two more guards hover around me, but hesitate. Despite their thuggish appearance, these two must respect the gods and fear to lay hands on a Herene. “Take her, she’s only a woman,” Eury commands.

At the order, the men grab me, squeezing my arms in their large hands. This stirs Herc who jerks, trying to shake off his guards. Two more guards run up with spears in hand. They pull to a stop in front of us and aim their weapons at the underside of our chins. The tip presses into my skin. I don’t breathe for fear of driving the point into my flesh.

A flash blinds me and I hear people hitting the ground. The cold metal point of the spear falls away from my throat. My only thought is the people have revolted. They’ve fashioned a bomb and detonated it. But as my eyes come into focus, I see her standing behind Eury, her face filled with anger.

I drop to my knees as the others have done. All except for Eury who still stands looking annoyed and confused at our subservience. Does he think we’re bowing to him?

“Hera,” I mutter.

When I say her name, realization fills Eury’s face. He turns to the goddess and stares her in the eye refusing to bow down to her.

“Let them go,” she demands.

“No, he failed. He must pay the blood crime punishment in full. And since he took her instead of Iolalus. She pays too.”

“They met your demand. You were the one who failed to take control of the deer. It was in your grasp. It is not their fault you let it go.”

“But I—”

“Enough. He must be sent on another labor and you will never set men on my daughter again. Ever.”

Without looking back to me, my mother disappears in a flash as brilliant as the one that brought her.

14

H
ERA

An exasperated huff escapes my lips as I drop into the chaise lounge. Hermes turns from looking out over the valley below Mount Olympus and sends me a questioning glance.

“Problem?” he asks, arching his left eyebrow.

“Where to begin? Eury—” I let out an angry grunt—not a very god-like noise, but I’m too frustrated to even begin to detail my annoyance with Portaceae’s Solon. How dare he threaten my daughter? How dare he allow his monsters to touch her?

“You ought to know by now nothing good comes of meddling in human affairs.” The wings at his feet and on his helmet flutter to raise him up from the marble floor and fly him over to me. Silly really, it’s only ten paces across the temple we Olympians use as a common area. He could have walked the distance, but oh, how Hermes loves to show off his wings. He lands and pushes my legs aside to make room for himself as he sits down beside me.

“If only they
were
human affairs I was meddling in,” I say. “Why can’t the Fates just cooperate and let this bastard die?”

“Hercules?”

“Please.” I wave my hand as if shooing away a fly. “Don’t mention his name. It gives me a headache. And yes,
him
.”

“But I thought his father granted him the gift of the gods? If the Fates step in and ‘let him die’ as you say, he’ll only end up here. With you. For eternity,” he says with a grin that appears innocent and sardonic at the same time.

“Please, Hermes, you’re about to make me retch. Zeus did grant the gift, but I tricked him into a deal that this bastard had to meet certain criteria to earn the gift. Criteria I thought impossible at the time.” I drop my head into my hands, annoyed with myself for my own perceived cleverness when I’d devised that deal thirty years ago. After a moment’s wallowing, I look up to see Hermes preening the wings on his helmet. He stops when he notices me watching him.

“It’s very important the feathers stay clean. Now,” he sets the helmet back on his head, “you were saying?”

“Before all this task business, I didn’t want him dead. I wanted him to suffer, feel ostracized, lose his place as Solon, live in the dregs of the vigile housing. Tormenting him is such fun—did you see his reaction to his children’s death?” I ask with a renewed cheer in my voice. Hermes nods as he gives me a reproachful look with his black eyes. “Oh, not you too.” I roll my own eyes and rise from the chaise to cross to where he had been looking out earlier. With its summer beauty of vibrant fields, glittering rivers, and fiery sunset, the view from Mount Olympus tugs at even my cynical heart.

Behind me I hear the flapping of Hermes’s twin pair of wings. He lands softly beside me then leans against a column, crossing his arms over his chest and taking on a jaunty aspect as he criticizes me with his eyes.

“It was a bit harsh,” he says.

“They were humans. Zeus knows there’s enough of them scattered about down there. Why should three tiny mortals matter to us?”

Hermes shrugs. This is obviously an argument he doesn’t want to have and neither do I. There is simply no reason for us to be bothered by the deaths of a handful of babies produced by a bastard vigile.

“Oh, enough of them,” Hermes says. “You mentioned impossible criteria. Details are in order.”

“The criteria was that he could only assume his immortality if he fell in love—truly in love, not just lust, mind you—with an immortal.”

“Where is the impossibility in that? Mortals pine for us all the time without our even trying.”

“The deal states that the immortal he loves must also fall in love with him. Which is why I need him dead. I fear it may be too late as it is,” I whine thinking of Iole risking herself to help the bastard complete his chore in Cedonia.

“Ah, yes, your daughter. But wait, if she breaks her vows, then she’ll no longer be immortal. Since he needs an immortal to love him, well, problem solved.”

He gives a triumphant nod of his head as if he’s just solved all of Osteria’s problems. I shoot him a look and he raises both hands, palms facing me as if defending himself from the glare.

“First,” I say, “even if Iole were mortal, I do not want her bedding that bastard. The very thought of it makes me ill. Second, I do not want my daughter to lose her immortality. One day she will give up this foolish life-with-the-mortals bit and return to me.”

The stipulation of Iole going to live amongst the mortals was that she must serve me. And in that service she is required to stay chaste. If she breaks her Herene vows, if she gives her body to a man, she will have broken our bargain. She will become mortal. And, as with all mortals, when she dies she will make the one-way journey to the realm of Hades’s Chasm. If she breaks our bargain she will never be able to return to Mount Olympus.

Hermes does have a point, however. If my daughter and the bastard love each other physically the bastard will never be able to gain his immortality for he would be in love with and loved by a mortal. As delicious as this idea is, I cannot bear the thought of never having my daughter near me again.

“Well, then,” Hermes says moving away from his column and putting his arm around my shoulder. “You should ensure he doesn’t fall for her, shouldn’t you? He’s due to be married again, isn’t he?”

Marriage. I’d nearly forgotten. All I need is to find a woman that will replace Iole in Herc’s heart. Of course, as a mother, I doubt any woman can do that, but surely Herc can be swayed by a lusty woman as easily as any man. I spin around to Hermes and kiss him on the cheek. One of his helmet wings flutters against my ear.

“Hermes, you are a genius. Look at Eury. Look at Zeus. All I need to do is find a wife that will distract the bastard with bedsport to eliminate any thoughts he has of Iole. She will stay immortal. He will remain mortal. It’s perfect.”

“You’re meddling again,” Hermes comments.

“Only a tad,” I say, too happy with my idea to care about his criticism. “Besides, what difference does it make? He’s only a bastard.”

15

E
URY

While the lot of them remain frozen in awed wonder, my body shakes with fury. How dare Hera interfere in my business? She wouldn’t have if not for her daughter. I still can’t believe the gorgeous little Herene is Hera’s own child, but I put the information away knowing someday I can to use it to my advantage—and hopefully to Hera’s sorrow.

But for now, I have to take control of this mess. I’ve already lost the stag. I’ve already been upstaged by Hera. I will not let this entire group see me as defeated.

“Cousin,” I say as if nothing strange has occurred, “I need meat for my celebration days. A boar. The largest you can find. And bring it dead. To me.”

Herc, his face filled with annoyed frustration, refuses to take his eyes off me as if hoping I will back down from his stare. When I don’t, he rises from his kneeling position.

“I’ve only just returned.”

“Then you best hurry. My celebration’s official kick off begins tomorrow night with a banquet. A roast boar is just the thing for my honored guests and the cooks will need most of the day tomorrow to cook it. Deliver it by sunset. Dead. Again, to me. There will be no loophole for you to jump through on this.”

I start back up the stairs to the shade of the porch before realizing I need to make everything clear to these people. I turn back to my cousin. “And this is a blood crime tribute, not a favor. The rules will apply if you fail.”

Herc stares at me, his face rigid with his stony glare. His hands clench sending a twitch through the muscles along his arms. I want to stare him down, to show he can’t cower me. I try to lock my eyes onto his, but the damned things flick to one side and the other to be certain my guards are still nearby. My cousin looks like a mountain cat ready to pounce. Finally, he breaks his blue glare and looks to the Herene with a softer expression.

“Iole, thank you for assisting me. I would escort you home, but it seems I have a task to complete.” Without giving me another glance, he slings his gear over his shoulder and strides off.

Iole picks up her own traveling bag, ready to scurry back to her women, no doubt.

“A moment, Priestess.” She locks an icy glare on me that could have rivaled Herc’s countenance for its intensity. I stare straight back at her, refusing to let the glance of a woman rattle me regardless of her parentage. After all, what can she possibly do? “It is good you returned, daughter of Hera. We have a budget meeting today or had you forgotten? I know you’ve been distracted, shall we say, for the past few days. Or perhaps you’ve been too busy chasing after my cousin to manage the books?”

Iole’s defiant face falls into uncertainty. Unsettling her is more enjoyable than I could have imagined. Watching that arrogant assuredness crumble fills my blood and bones with a sense of power I haven’t felt in ages.

“I did forget our meeting was for today, but the books are ready.” Her hesitant response smells like a bluff, but what does it matter? If the books haven’t been kept up it will be to my great advantage. “Maxinia tallies them daily.”

“Good,” I say cheerily, although in my mind I curse the Herenes’ efficiency. “Then if they’re ready we can meet in an hour or two.” I step back up the porch, wondering briefly when Adneta went inside. “Afterwards you can begin preparations for my celebration festivities. I expect you to attend all the public events and to give Hera’s blessing to commemorate my birthday, anniversary, and my ascension to the Solonship.”

“I know well enough what my duties entail.”

Before I can dismiss her, she spins on her heel and storms across the lawn. I pause on the porch, taking in the wonderful view of her departure.

My time waiting for the meeting is not peaceful. Adneta has stomped up to the bed chamber in a fury of tears and rants over losing the golden stag. I try to console her, but she shrugs me off and turns her back on me.

“You never give me anything I want.”

I step up to her, placing my hands on her arms just below the shoulders. Her body tenses as I kiss the base of her neck.

“I promise,” I say after placing another kiss on her rigid shoulders, “you have a wonderful gift coming to you.”

The money from the Areans is already at work fashioning her a menagerie of gold- and jewel-encrusted animals that will decorate the courtyard. The gifts are to be presented to her at the end of the festivities. I had so wanted to keep it a surprise, but I hate when she’s upset.

She whisks around. My hand catches on the sheer sleeve of her dress causing it to slip off her shoulder. She yanks it back into place.

“I heard you earlier. A boar? You think I want a dead pig?”

I step in closer, but she backs away.

“My dear, don’t be like that. The lawn out there, do you see it?”

She darts her annoyed gaze out the window and then back to me.

“I know what the lawn looks like.”

“But you don’t know how it will look in a few days. I swear a stag with golden antlers won’t even compare with the treasures that will fill that lawn.”

The corners of her mouth flick up briefly, but then drop just as quickly.

“But I have nothing now, do I?”

I can see if I don’t deliver something to her, tomorrow’s celebration events will be a day of pouting rather than pleasure.