Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) (7 page)

Seven

Zarek walked the battlements with his son in his arms. The full moon shone brightly through a break in the clouds, casting silent blue-white moonbeams atop the baby’s head. He ran a finger over the baby’s cheek. His son looked up with his bright blue-green eyes and smiled.

“You look so much like your mother, Lysander.”

He had named the baby after his mother, just as she had wanted. He didn’t know why, but by doing this it almost made him feel as if she were still there.

It had been a long fortnight, but yet it had been silent. Pasha was experienced at her skill, and the baby had even smiled and cooed at him five times since this morning. He put out his finger and the baby grabbed it in his little hand. Whether by reflex or of his own accord, it did not matter. Zarek had formed a relationship with his son, spending as much time as he could with him, walking him atop the battlements every night to calm him.

“This will all be yours some day, son. Take a good look.” He tilted the baby upwards to see over the battlements, but his son was more interested in the ring on his finger. “That was your mother’s ring,” he told him. “That, too, will be yours some day.”

“How generous you are with stolen possessions.”

Zarek spun around to see Lysandra hauling herself over the wall and dropping to the battlement walkway. No rope could be seen, and he rushed to the edge to look over.

“Lysandra!” he said, surprised, yet pleased to see her. “How did you get up here?”

“You really should rip those climbing vines off the walls. An intruder doesn’t need a rope to get into Thrace. And your guards are playing dice atop the watch tower. You know naught of what goes on behind your back.”

Zarek shook his head, not able to believe she’d climbed to the top of the battlements from outside, without a rope or ladder. It was very high and a deadly drop should she have fallen. Her Amazon skills showed brightly tonight, and he let a smile pass his lips in admiration.

“So you returned to me, like I knew you would.”

She brushed the dirt from her clothes and sauntered over to meet him. “I knew you’d want me back to save your sanity from the crying babe.”

Zarek held the baby up for her to see, and her brows dipped in confusion.

“Lysander no longer cries much. I have a wet nurse to tend to his needs.”

Lysandra’s eyes fastened on Zarek. He looked good holding a baby, and comfortable at it as well. And just as he’d pointed out, the baby was content, even without her. The moon shone through the clouds, and she saw her child’s little face looking up and smiling. She was elated at first, until she realized he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Zarek!

“You acquired a wet nurse to feed my baby after I forbade it?” She should feel angered at his action, but instead she felt hurt. Was it so easy for him to replace her? Had he not missed her at all?

“I had no choice, Lysandra. I couldn’t very well feed him myself, when you left him to go back with the Amazons.”

“I didn’t leave him,” she said, hearing the quaver in her own voice. “Not the way you think. I was saving baby Zarek by giving myself over to them. Can you not see that?”

“Baby Zarek?” he asked, making her realize he had called the child Lysander.

“Yes. I’ve decided to call him that after all.”

A pleased smile passed his face, and he looked down to the baby, letting the little one play with his finger.

“Nay. I have changed my mind about having a Zarek II. I have decided Lysander would fit. Actually, Sander to make the name smaller, just like he is.”

She felt a warmth within her at these words and wondered if Zarek’s decision to change the baby’s name was done to please her. After all, hadn’t that been what she was trying to do? Did this mean he cared for her? she wondered. Perhaps he did not hate her as much as it seemed.

She reached out for her son, but Zarek stayed still, obviously having no intentions of handing him over.

“Let me hold my son, Zarek. It’s been such a long time. I need to feel him close to me.”

“I think Sander is safer in my arms. After all, last I saw you, you could barely stand.”

“I’m healed now, Zarek. I assure you, I can hold him without dropping him. After all, I just scaled the battlement walls without a rope. Compared to that, this shouldn’t be a problem.”

He looked at her and then down to the baby. He may care for her, but his reluctance to let her hold Sander told her he still didn’t trust her.

“You’re not going to let me hold him, are you?” she asked, appalled.

He didn’t answer, nor did he release the baby.

“I cannot believe I risked my life to sneak here in the night to warn you of an attack, and still you do not trust me. You are such an insufferable beast!”

“Attack?” He pushed the baby into her arms and grabbed for his sword. He ran to the far wall and looked over, and by his string of curses, she knew he had seen the Amazons on the horizon.

“Sound the alarm,” he shouted to the guardsman. “And make certain the drawbridge is secured. We’re being attacked by Amazons.”

Lysandra clutched her baby to her chest, burying her face in his downy hair. A part of her died every day she had been away from him. But now she had him back in her hold, and it felt so good to be with him once again. She fastened the little blanket around him tighter to keep the chill from his little body. She smiled at him and reached a finger down as Zarek did, but the baby balled up his fists and started crying.

“What?” she said in surprise. “This shouldn’t be happening.”

“Bring him to the wet nurse,” called Zarek. “She’s in my chamber. And hurry.”

“She’s in your chamber?” she asked curiously. “And why is that?”

“Because,” he said irritated, trying to command his men and talk to her at the same time. “She sleeps there to feed him during the night. I like to have my son at my side as much as possible.”

“She sleeps in your bed with you?” A stab of envy made its home in her heart.

“Nay. She sleeps on a pallet on the floor. Now do as I say and get Sander to safety.”

“I have not agreed to that name yet,” she said, all the while trying to make the baby smile, but he just kept crying. “I don’t understand. He acts as if he doesn’t even know his own mother.”

Zarek looked over the walls to the east and then ran down the walkway and looked to the west. He shouted a few more commands to his men, and then came back to her side.

“Give me the baby. I can see you cannot follow instructions.” He reached out to take him, but Lysandra pulled him away.

“Nay. I just got him in my arms. I will not give him over. I will see to his safety.” She started down the steps leading to the courtyard.

Zarek followed on her heels. “I would feel better if he were in my care.”

“You would feel better if I wasn’t here at all, wouldn’t you?”

He grabbed for the baby again, and this time Lysandra raised the child up over her head in an attempt to keep Zarek from taking him. There was a screech from above, and at the sound of rushing air, Zarek looked upward.

“Nay!” he screamed and reached for the baby, but it was too late.

Lysandra felt the baby being lifted from her grasp and it wasn’t by Zarek. To her horror, a Harpy’s talons latched on to the blanket binding the child and flew up high into the air.

“Attack!” Zarek shouted to his bow men, but Lysandra stopped him.

“Nay! The baby will be shot. Call off your men.”

Zarek did as asked and grabbed a rope from a nearby cart. He twisted it into a loop and flung it into the air. It hit the bird-woman on the head, but she managed not to be caught by it. The beast’s eyes glowed red in the night, her large wings flapping wildly, her claws gripping to the screaming child.

“Do something!” Lysandra commanded. “Save him, Zarek!”

The Harpy flew on, and Zarek sped across the courtyard and up to the battlements following the beast. Just as the Harpy flew overhead, Zarek jumped up, trying to grab his son, but the bird-woman changed her course, throwing him off balance. He fell onto the merlon, tooth like structure of the wall, and his feet disappeared over the edge.

“No! Zarek, hold on.” Lysandra rushed up the steps two at a time and reached out to grab Zarek’s hands. His grip was strong, but the wind had picked up, making it more difficult to bring his legs up and over the wall back to safety. Zarek swung his legs upward, and with Lysandra’s help he pulled his body over the wall and collapsed upon the walkway. Lysandra fell atop him, clutching his shoulders and pulling him to her in a hug. “Don’t do that to me,” she cried and hugged him again.

Zarek jumped to his feet, his arm around Lysandra. “I tried to save him,” he said pounding his fist into the stone wall. Blood spurted out of the gash, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Lysandra watched the Harpy disappearing into the darkness, the sounds of her crying child eventually fading to nonexistence.

“He’s gone,” she cried. “He’s gone!”

She fell to the ground and wept bitterly into her hands. Damn the Amazon ways. She didn’t care who saw her crying. Her baby had just been stolen by a Harpy and it was all her fault. Zarek hunkered down beside her, holding her shoulders. He buried his face in her hair and she could feel his body shaking.

“We will get him back, Lysandra. I promise you we will.”

“We have to, Zarek. I love that baby.”

“So do I,” he said kissing her lightly atop the head. “So do I.”

A flash of yellow light lit up the battlements and the form of a goddess appeared atop the wall.

“Artemis!” Lysandra jumped to her feet, still clinging to Zarek.

The Amazons’ patron goddess stood before her, her white robe blowing in the breeze. Her dark, long hair was pulled back tightly into a braid. An archer’s bow was thrown over her shoulder, a quiver of golden arrows on her back.

“What do you want?” Zarek growled, his hand slipping down Lysandra’s shoulder to the hilt of his sword. Lysandra touched his hand in a warning, and took a step forward.

“Oh, Artemis, my goddess,” she said, bowing down to one knee. “I ask for your forgiveness.”

“I am touched by your reverence now that I’m here, but I do not believe it for a minute, Lysandra. You have shamed not only me but the entire Amazon nation.”

“I have,” Lysandra admitted. “And for this I am sorry. But my goddess, I want to keep my baby. Cannot you grant me this small favor?”

“So now you ask?” she said with a laugh. “’Tis too late for that. My Harpies have captured the baby and now it is mine, and I will do with it as I please.”

“No!” screamed Lysandra, and this time ’twas Zarek who held her back as he stepped forward.

“Artemis, the baby is my son too, and I demand you hand him over.”

“You will demand nothing of a goddess. I should punish you for that.” She raised her hand to throw a bolt, but Lysandra stopped her.

“Please. We will do anything to get the baby back. Anything at all.”

“What could I possibly want from mortals that I could not get myself?”

Lysandra wondered the same, but thought it was their last chance. Any hope of ever seeing her son alive again had to come from Artemis. But once the goddess was betrayed, she did not easily forget.

“You,” she said nodding toward Zarek. “I hear you are a thief.”

“I am a king,” he corrected her.

“But were you not once a thief?”

“The best,” he answered with a slight nod.

“And you,” she pointed to Lysandra. “You are to one day be queen of the Amazons.”

“Aye,” she answered. “My mother is queen now and I am her successor.”

“No warrior will be queen of the Amazons without first proving her worth to me. I will set a challenge that will include both of you pitiful mortals. I have three things which you will race to recover. Whichever of you brings back the most to my temple, will have their kingdom or tribe spared from my wrath.”

“This is absurd!” screamed Zarek. “Because of an Amazon mistake you may punish the people of Thrace?”

Artemis’s eyes blazed with fury. With a swipe of her hand a ball of fire blasted toward Zarek. He dove to the ground and rolled, managing to avoid it.

“You begot the male baby and then tried to steal it from the Amazons, therefore denying me my sacrifice. The mistake is yours as well as Lysandra’s.”

“Tell us the challenge,” Lysandra said to take the angry goddess’s attention from Zarek. “Please.”

“All right,” she said with a nod of her head. Then with arms crossed in front of her she explained their tasks. “Bring to me my twin brother, Apollo’s, golden lyre. When you have done that, go back up to Mt. Olympus and bring me a thunderbolt of the almighty Zeus himself. And the last task will require you to bring back the ornate chalice of Dionysus, the god of song and wine.”

“These tasks are impossible,” protested Lysandra. “And how will this get my son back?”

“The winner’s tribe or kingdom will not only be spared from my wrath, but he or she who wins the most challenges will have one wish granted to them. If so desired, that fortunate person may wish for the baby, alive and unharmed.”