Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) (12 page)

“No one turns down a god,” he growled, and reached out for her, but she pulled away. In the process the colored veil covering her top half got caught on the bedpost and when she tried to get it loose, it ripped and left her standing there half naked.

“That’s more like it,” said Apollo in a pleased voice, reaching out for her.

“Don’t touch her!” Zarek commanded in his own voice. He rushed forward, his fake hair falling off his head in the process. The strap around his waist opened and the pillows fell out and to the ground along the way.

“It’s a man!” gasped one of the Muses.

Zarek raised his hand, and Lysandra’s pilfered dagger fell out of his sleeve and to the ground with a loud clank.

“He’s got a dagger,” cried out another, starting a frenzy of fear in the room.

Chaos broke loose as Apollo threw a bolt of fire, and Zarek dove out of the way, rolling past the women’s feet. The women screamed and held up their gowns, running around the room in every direction. The guardsmen rushed in from the corridor at the sound of the commotion.

“Get out of here,” Zarek called to Lysandra, as a guard grabbed him from behind. Another punched him in the stomach, causing a rush of air from his mouth. Lysandra grabbed her tunic wrap from the floor and quickly belted it around her. Then she dove for her dagger, holding it up, ready to help defend Zarek.

“I don’t need your help,” he spat. “Do you ever do as instructed? Now get out of here before you’re hurt.”

Hurt indeed! Did he forget to whom he was talking? By right, he should be begging for her help. She was an Amazon warrior, trained in the fine art of fighting. She didn’t need anyone to protect her. Especially not a man! She should have helped him, but after that lewd comment, he could fend for himself. She just stood and watched.

Just when she thought he was doomed, being held onto by both guards, he yanked his arms upward, releasing the ties binding their tunics. They fell open exposing them to the women, and screams went up as the ladies hid their eyes.

Then, in one quick move, he directed Apollo’s anger away from her, by jumping out of the window. Lysandra knew he wouldn’t be hurt, since they were not high off the ground. Apollo ran to the window, the women screamed and ran around in a frenzy, and the guards busied themselves trying to tie their tunics back into place. Satisfied by the outcome, Lysandra turned to go, but stopped suddenly.

Her eyes fell upon the golden lyre of Apollo. Zarek’s bag lay on the ground next to it, and she saw her perfect opportunity. She quickly scanned the room, but no one noticed the lone lyre of the god sitting unchained and unprotected. The door to the chamber was open, and she could make her escape so easily. Hurriedly, she rushed forward, slipped the lyre into the bag along with Daedalus’s playing device, and sneaked out the door. In the corridor, she found her sword inside the potted plant, exactly where Zarek had kissed her. She tucked her weapon under her arm and made her escape.

Eleven

Lysandra returned that night from the temple of Artemis, not at all sure she was welcome in Thrace. She hadn’t felt right taking the lyre, but the Amazons’ lives were at stake and she had no choice.

She stood outside the gate, waiting for Zarek’s command to his guards to raise the portcullis and let her enter. Her body ached, and her heart ached as well. She wasn’t at all sure Zarek would ever want to see her again after today.

“Raise the gate,” she heard his low command.

The wheels turned and the chains rattled and the gate slowly moved upward to let her in. She stepped into the quiet courtyard, knowing it was late, but still ’twasn’t the reason for the solemn mood of the people. Zarek was their king, their hero, but today he had not been so heroic. He was unable to bring them the news of success. She had been the one to collect the lyre and deliver it to Artemis, not him.

Her own tribe of Amazons were well pleased hearing she had won today’s challenge, when she’d stopped by camp after giving the lyre to Artemis. Her mother had tried to convince her to stay the evening with them, but a longing to see Zarek again had her returning to Thrace.

“I didn’t think you’d come to Thrace after what you did today.”

She looked up to see Zarek descending the battlements, and she couldn’t help but remember how he’d told her he walked the wall every night with little Sander in his arms. She missed her baby immensely and wanted to rush into Zarek’s arms to have him comfort her like he had done once before. But instead, she raised her chin, as well as her warrior pride, and answered him firmly.

“I’ve done nothing wrong. You left the lyre, and I simply collected it and turned it over to Artemis.”

“You stole the lyre from me!”

“Well, then I’d say I am learning from the best of thieves, wouldn’t you?”

He nodded, then with arms clasped behind him, he headed toward the orchards. “Take a walk with me,” he said, and she did not argue. She followed at his side, neither of them touching the other, nor saying a single word until they were in the orchard which was located inside the bailey walls.

“I do not like the way you flaunted yourself in front of Apollo today,” he told her sharply.

“I did what I had to. You would have done the same if you were me.”

“Umfh,” he mumbled and continued to walk. She followed, thinking of what she had meant to say. This wasn’t it. The words hadn’t come out right.

“Thank you,” she blurted out before they started arguing again.

“What?” he asked, forcing her to repeat it. She wasn’t used to thanking anyone, especially not a man, and this was hard for her.

“You heard me. I said thank you,” she answered in a clipped tone.

“Yes, I suppose you should be thanking me for more or less placing the lyre straight into your hands.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

She stopped and looked up at him in the waning moon. He towered over her, his long hair falling around his shoulders, and stared into her eyes. She felt the urge to kiss him, but for the first time in her life she’d become shy and did nothing but wait for him to kiss her first.

He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t even touch her, just kept walking with his hands behind his back.

“Tomorrow we go for Zeus’s thunderbolt,” he said. “I don’t expect that to be pretty.”

“I’m sure you’ll have Daedalus come up with some device so you can use it to steal it before me, so do not worry.”

He stopped walking and turned around. His arms crossed in front of his body. “You sound as if you think I couldn’t do this if it weren’t for the help of Daedalus.”

She raised her eyebrows in wait. “Could you?”

“Of course I could. Why do you even ask?”

“It just seems it would be a much fairer challenge if I had half the help you do.”

“Now wait just a moment,” he said shaking a finger in her face. “I wasn’t coined the best thief in all Greece for nothing.”

“Oh. So are you saying you were considered the best thief in all Greece before you ever met the old inventor?”

He looked at her and a muscle twitched in his jaw. Then he looked away.

“It doesn’t matter. From now on, I’ll prove it to you. I will not accept any of the old man’s help again. I will do it all on my own.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said, turning to leave. “Good night, King Zarek, and I’ll be looking forward to our challenge on the morrow.”

Zarek watched her leave the orchard, and with her went his pride. He had never thought about it before, but she was right. He had been a thief his whole life, but not until he met Daedalus had he risen to infamous glory because of his lithe skills. The old inventor had made him what he was. He’d never done much on his own. His childhood was one disappointment after another, and his life had been lonely and empty until his son Sander had been born. But now that the child was gone, his life was empty once more.

He would prove to Lysandra he could thieve on his own. He had to prove his worth if for naught else then for her to know Zarek of Thrace was not a failure. Some day his son would inherit his title of king, and when he did, ’twould be something he could speak of with pride. His father wouldn’t be said to have needed help doing anything - even if it was thieving. King Zarek of Thrace would be said to have accomplished anything he so chose to do, on his own. He didn’t need help, and tomorrow he’d prove it, not only to Lysandra but also to himself.

His head weary, he lay on the stone bench, knowing he could not go to his chamber because Lysandra would be sleeping in his bed. He needed to keep a sharp mind. He needed to be rested and get an early start. He had but one more chance to save his kingdom. If he won the challenge tomorrow, they would be tied. If she won again, all would be over. Artemis’s wrath would fall upon his people, and he would never see his son again.

He closed his eyes and thought of little Sander. He wondered where he was and if he missed his father. He longed to hold his little warm body up against his chest and rock him as they crossed the battlements together. He looked at the baby in his mind, his blue-green eyes lighting up in a smile as he held him. But then he realized they weren’t his son’s eyes at all. It was Lysandra looking up at him in his thoughts and dreams. It was the warrior woman occupying his thoughts and making him do silly things like give up a lyre because he thought to keep her from harm. He wanted to hold her as much as he did Sander, and he could no longer ignore it. But he truly wondered if he would ever see either of them again after the morrow.

A rustling noise from within the orchard startled him and he sat upright quickly.

“Who goes there?” he asked, and in the light of the moon a woman stepped out to greet him.

“My king, I am here for you. I am willing to do whatever you want me to do.”

He smiled when he saw Tessa and knew she would do just that.

“Come to me,” he told her patting the bench beside him. “But please, do not mention this to anyone. Especially, Lysandra.”

*  *  *

Lysandra opened the door to the chamber, scanning the corridor quickly, then pulled Tessa inside.

“You took so long,” she said, impatient that she had called for the girl over an hour ago. “Are you sure no one followed you?” she asked in a low voice.

“I am,” the girl said, bewildered. “And I have what you requested.”

“Good,” said Lysandra, motioning for her to sit with her at the table. They did so and Tessa pulled a parchment out of her bodice and laid it down.

“I received this from the guardsmen who took it from the castle whore who tempted it from the Cyclops himself who is in charge of making Zeus’s thunderbolts.”

Lysandra quickly spread the parchment on the table and surveyed the map of the cave where the thunderbolts were forged.

“If you don’t mind me saying, my lady, this is an ingenious idea. Rather than going right into Zeus’s lair and trying to steal a mighty thunderbolt, you will only have to confront his Cyclops. This task is less risky and very easy once you know what is a Cyclops’s weakness.”

“Aye,” she said, feeling a little bad for Zarek who would be entering through Zeus’s main door while she was elsewhere in Olympus, and safer too. By the time he discovered what she’d done, ’twould be too late. She’d have the thunderbolt in her possession, the Amazons’ lives would be spared, and her baby would be returned unharmed into her arms.

“All right, Tessa, tell me. What is it that can frighten a Cyclops so terribly that I will be able to steal the thunderbolt before he knows what happened?”

Zarek stood outside his bedchamber door, his ear pressed to the wood to hear what was going on inside. He never should have tricked Tessa, but when the girl approached him in the orchard and happened to mention Lysandra had sent for her, he knew the Amazon was up to no good. It hadn’t been hard to convince Tessa to talk. She had never been one to keep a secret. That’s why he stopped bedding her after the first couple times. He didn’t like the entire kingdom to know what went on behind his closed door. But tonight Tessa had told him what he needed to know, without even realizing what she’d done.

Lysandra had accused him of cheating and not being able to win the challenge fairly on his own. He had been willing to give up everything just to prove to her he could do it. But once he found out she’d been getting help from Tessa, he knew she’d only accused him to stop him from winning. Anything was fair from this point on. He would no longer feel pity for her. She had been raised a warrior just as he’d been raised a thief. Some things were in a person’s blood forever.

He hadn’t taken the map from Tessa, though he’d known where she hid it when he rubbed his hand over her back. She had thought he wanted to do more than just talk, and he didn’t stop her from thinking it. Tessa had mentioned a cave and a Cyclops, but she was careful not to mention the map. It didn’t matter. He would sneak in once Lysandra fell asleep and have a close look at it. Then he’d arrive at the cave tomorrow before her, and have the thunderbolt stolen before she even got there.

He chuckled inwardly when he thought of the false information Tessa was feeding Lysandra without even knowing it. Zarek knew what Cyclopes feared, and it wasn’t what he’d haphazardly mentioned while talking to Tessa.

He pulled back from the door and nodded in satisfaction. Then he made his way down to the great hall to wait until Lysandra fell asleep.

*  *  *

Lysandra woke from a sound dream, oddly having the sensation something was wrong. This had never happened before, and she could only guess it was a maternal instinct. However, she didn’t feel as if her baby were in danger; instead, she felt as if the danger were directed toward her.

She lay still, her warrior instincts telling her she was being watched. She felt a shadow over her and dared not open her eyes at that moment. She lay on her side, one hand under her pillow, and very slowly, her fingers reached for her dagger hidden underneath. She was about to jump up in attack when Zarek’s voice made her freeze.

“Lysandra,” he whispered. “Are you awake?”

What was he doing here? What did he want? Her heart beat quickly wondering if he had come to take her in the night for his own pleasures. Her eyes flickered open slowly, and she looked upward meaning to tell him she was awake and wanting the same as him. But to her surprise, he was no longer standing there.

Her eyes scanned the room and in the light of the fire, she saw him standing at the table, leaning over the map like a thief in the night. He turned back and she quickly closed her eyes, listening and wondering what he was doing. Then she heard the scraping of a stick against vellum, and peeking out at him, she realized he was copying down the information of where to find the cave.

He slipped his vellum into his tunic, then turned around once more. She closed her eyes so he would not see she watched, and when she reopened them, he had vanished.