Storms of Olympus Page 13

  ‘Ep…’ Lyssa whispered, laying her hand on his massive leg. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I did well in the pits, and became sought after. I was sold from slaver to slaver for years, and when I became a man, the slavers began talking to courtesans. I’d grown up fighting, never questioned it, but the idea of being sold for love… I couldn’t do it. I escaped and talked my way onto the first ship I could find leaving Aries.’

  ‘Did you ever find out who your father was?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Does anyone on this ship not have really shit parents?’ Phyleus said, frowning.

  ‘Mine are all right,’ said Abderos.

  ‘Never met mine,’ grunted Len.

  ‘Mine are magnificent,’ said Nestor.

  ‘Course they are.’ Len rolled his eyes.

  ‘Ep, you can’t fight yet, so there’s no reason for you to leave the ship. You won’t have to see her,’ Lyssa said.

  ‘I would have loved the chance to fight in front of her,’ he said, his eyes meeting Lyssa’s. She gripped his leg harder. ‘To show her she was right to keep me alive.’ Her heart ached for him.

  ‘You owe her nothing, Ep.’

  He frowned, shaking his head.

  ‘It’s their way, Lyssa. She should have killed me the day I was born. But she didn’t.’

  Lyssa raised her eyebrows sceptically.

  ‘Captain Lyssa!’ A female voice rang across the deck and Nestor trotted to the railings.

  ‘An escort is here,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sorry, Epizon. We have to go.’ She pushed herself to her feet, reluctant to let go of her best friend.

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t help,’ he said, his face pinched. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘I want to do the speed test,’ said Nestor.

  ‘Nestor, if it’s not on land then you’re not the best option. You can’t swim,’ Lyssa replied, turning to the centaur.

  ‘The skill test, then,’ she said, tail flicking but face unmoving.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘I’ll do the speed test,’ Phyleus said. She nodded at him.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  10

  Evadne struggled not to react as Lyssa arrived at the building by the pool, accompanied by Phyleus and the white-haired centaur. The look she gave Hercules was so loaded with venom, she thought that Lyssa might launch herself at him and finish what they’d started by the stables. But a loud gong sounded, and everybody’s attention was drawn to the empty desert beyond the open-walled building.

  Approaching across the sand was a woman, dressed in the same style as the others, but with red painted in slashes across the fabric. Her blond hair was cropped short and she carried a gleaming war-hammer. As she got close, Evadne’s breath caught. Her eyes were as blue as those of the giants, shining in the bright light. Full lips were quirked in a half-smile as she swung the hammer. With the exception of Aphrodite, she was the most impressive, captivating woman Evadne had ever seen. Even more than Hedone.

  Evadne turned, looking sideways at her captain. Hercules was watching the woman climb the steps to the building, his expression hard and cold.

  ‘Heroes,’ she said, reaching the daybeds. All of the Amazon women in the building slid from their beds, bending one knee. Theseus and Busiris did the same, and slowly the rest of the crews followed suit. All except Hercules, who remained sitting on a purple cushion. ‘Thank you,’ she said as they stood up again. ‘I am Queen Hippolyta. Welcome to Themiscyra. Enjoy your time here, as you will never see it again.’ She smiled around at them, her gaze lingering on Theseus. ‘We do not normally let strangers into this place, and rarer still is the presence of a man. There are rules that must be obeyed. The gardens are yours to explore as you wish. This building is a cabana. You each have one of your own to use as your base while you are here. There will be food and drink in them, and they are located on the desert edge so they are quiet for you to rest in. This is the limit of my hospitality.’ Her eyes were as sharp as her voice. ‘My warriors will not want to speak to you. Do not try. Ask an escort or serving girl if you need something. Now. Let us begin the first test with no further delay. I hope you’ve all brought a decent archer.’ She quirked an eyebrow, twirling her hammer like it weighed nothing. ‘Follow me,’ she said, and turned, jumping down the steps and striding away across the dusty sand.

  Hercules stood up languidly, and Evadne tensed, rocking on her booted heels, itching to follow after Hippolyta. She said nothing, though, waiting for Hercules to move first, then falling in behind him.

  They walked for ten minutes or so across the hot sand, away from the gardens, before she saw a new stone building ahead. It was semi-circular and had rows and rows of stepped benches surrounding a round stage area in the middle, a lot like the gladiator pit made from ice on Capricorn, but cut in half. The benches were filled with people, mostly Amazons, but not all. There were men, giants, harpies, minotaurs, and many other creatures besides. Massive green plants grew up and over the back of the stone and their huge leaves formed shady canopies that covered the seats. Evadne could hear the low rumble of the giants talking ahead of her, and wished she was talking to somebody, to distract her from her nerves. Talking to Eryx.

  The excited hum of the spectators rose in volume as they reached the building, and Hippolyta stopped and turned to them.

  ‘This is your stadium, heroes. It is called the Colosseum. Put forward your crew member with the best aim now. Others, take a seat.’ She gestured with her hammer at the bottom row of benches.

  ‘Evadne, go,’ said Hercules, and without looking at her he made his way across the empty stage towards the seats.

  She looked around at the other crews. It looked like the centaur was staying, as were Theseus and Busiris. When everyone else had taken a seat, Hippolyta held up her hammer and the crowd immediately fell silent. A shiver of anticipation, and not a little fear, rippled through Evadne. Four Amazon warrior women stepped onto the stage, all carrying two bows each. They were long, curved bows, nothing like the ones Evadne was used to.

  ‘You will each take a turn with one of my warriors,’ said Hippolyta, into the silence. ‘You will stand thirty feet apart, facing each other. They will fire at you first. You will fire at a target board. If you hit the target, the arrow fired at you will be destroyed. If you miss, the arrow will continue on its path, and my archers never miss. Three arrows each. Closest to the centre of the target wins. Or the last one left standing.’ She winked at Theseus. ‘Understood?’ She looked at each of them in turn. Evadne nodded as the woman’s piercing blue eyes fell on her.

  ‘Let the games begin!’ she roared, swinging her hammer down, then sprinting across the stage towards the crowd. One of the four archers walked towards them and held a bow out to Theseus. He took it and followed her pointed arm to a red cross painted on the stone ground of the stage. When he reached it, she stood on the opposite cross and another warrior rolled a target board mounted on wheels into the middle of the stage between them. Evadne gulped, fear pooling in her stomach. The target was barely bigger than her head.

  ‘Ready?’ called the archer, drawing her bow, arrow already notched. Theseus lifted his bow, carefully pulling the string back, arrow balanced.

  ‘Yes,’ he called.

  The word had barely left his mouth when the archer loosed her arrow. It flew from her bow, its shining silver tip whistling through the air. Theseus loosed his own arrow and Evadne watched, wide-eyed as it thunked into the target. The Amazon’s arrow gave a small pop, and exploded, a small shower of light sparking from it. The crowd roared, clapping and cheering.

  ‘Ready?’ Evadne heard the archer call over their noise. Theseus notched another arrow and pulled the bow up quickly.

  ‘Ye—’ This time he didn’t even finish the word before she loosed her own arrow. He fired back almost too late, and although he hit the target the arrow was only inches from his head when it exploded, making him leap back. This time the crowd erupted into laughter. Evadne’s stomac
h started to churn, anxiety gripping her. The Amazon archers were so fast, the target so small. What if she missed?

  Theseus wasted no time notching his final arrow, and had the bow lifted to his face when the archer called ‘Ready?’ for the third time. And he hit the target in plenty of time, her arrow exploding harmlessly over the stage. He gave the cheering crowd a wave as he handed the bow back to the archer and walked to the bench to sit with Psyche and Hedone.

  The next archer came forward, holding a bow out to the centaur this time. Nestor took it, trotting gracefully up to the red cross. She notched her arrow and aimed quickly, much more quickly than Theseus first had.

  ‘Ready?’ called the second archer, a smaller woman than the first, with long dark hair.

  ‘Yes!’ shouted Nestor. They loosed their arrows at almost the same time, Nestor’s flying easily towards the target. When the archer’s arrow exploded, the sparks were red and the crowd hollered and stamped.

  Evadne squinted at the target. Nestor’s arrow had hit the middle of the circle painted on the board. The anxiety crept further over her skin as the centaur reloaded her bow lightning fast. Evadne was never going to win.

  11

  Eryx tried to remain calm as he watched the centaur sink her third arrow into the target, almost touching the previous two. There was no contest. She wouldn’t be beaten. So did Busiris and Evadne really have to take their turns? He wasn’t overly bothered about Busiris getting hurt but he had no wish to see harm come to Evadne.

  Nestor trotted back to her crew a few seats over from where he and Antaeus were sitting, Lyssa standing and waving her arms in delight. The third archer walked out, handing a larger than normal bow to Busiris, who towered over her. He took it, testing its string as he walked to the cross. Another warrior ran out and adjusted the target, making it a few feet higher. Antaeus grunted his approval beside him. Eryx was glad he was doing the speed test. He would have been terrible at this. Although he didn’t recall Busiris being particularly good at archery. It wasn’t a skill giants practised much.

  The lithe blond archer drew back her loaded bow and called, ‘Ready?’

  The crowd fell silent again as Busiris raised his own bow.

  ‘Yes,’ he called back, and her arrow flew towards him. Busiris let his own go slowly, and Eryx winced as it clipped the side of the target and the speeding arrow exploded inches from Busiris’s gold face. He barely ducked out of the way of the sparks in time.

  ‘He needs to be faster than that,’ murmured Antaeus.

  ‘Definitely,’ Eryx agreed, hardly audible over the laughing crowd. Busiris didn’t reload any faster, though and was still trying to balance his arrow when the girl raised her bow.

  ‘Ready?’ she called. There was an awkward pause while Busiris fumbled with the weapon, and snickers began rippling through the watchers.

  ‘Yes,’ he called eventually, and mercifully loosed his own arrow quickly. To Eryx’s surprise it landed fairly centrally on the target and the Amazon’s arrow exploded safely. She had reloaded and was aiming at him within a few seconds. A slow chant started up through the crowd as Busiris fought with his third arrow.

  ‘Ittiménos, Ittiménos,’ the spectators chanted. Busiris looked around at them all, teeth bared. Eryx knew the word, had had it chanted at him in boxing matches many times. Loser. Years of fighting had taught him how to ignore the crowd, how to focus. Years of experience Busiris didn’t have.

  ‘Ready?’ the archer called.

  ‘Yes,’ Busiris ground out, but it was clear he hadn’t got his bow up fully. Her arrow loosed, and Eryx scowled as Busiris let his fly late, and low. Antaeus half stood up as Busiris’s arrow missed the target completely, clattering across the sandy ground.

  ‘Move!’ Antaeus roared as Busiris stared dumbly at the archer’s arrow flying towards him. He leaped to the side, but he was too late, and bellowed in pain as the arrow tore across his cheek. Bright red blood swelled slowly in a line across his face, all the way to his ear, then began to drip down his cheek. He pressed his hands to the side of his face.

  ‘My ear!’ he shouted, stumbling towards Antaeus. Eryx winced.

  ‘My medics will attend you.’ Hippolyta’s voice boomed across the stadium. Three smaller women, in white robes, stood up from their seats a few rows back, and made their way towards him. Eryx looked at Evadne, now standing alone on the other side of the stage, framed by the barren desert. She was staring at the blood on the ground by the red cross, her face pale. An overwhelming urge to comfort her overtook him and he clenched his fists in his lap. There was nothing he could do but watch.

  As the medics led the wailing half-giant away, the last archer handed a bow to Evadne. She took it, and strode to the cross, chin pushed out, blue hair swinging in a high ponytail. Pride filled Eryx and he shuffled forward in his seat. She notched and drew quickly, and was ready when the archer called out to her. Her first arrow thudded into the target, well off centre but in plenty of time for the Amazon’s arrow to explode harmlessly. Eryx took a deep breath as she quickly reloaded, giving the crowd no time to put her off.

  ‘Ready?’ called the archer.

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded small in the large arena. Her second arrow missed the target. For a second Eryx was sure his heart had stopped beating, as Evadne froze, bow still in place. Then she dropped to the ground, throwing her body forward and flinging the bow away. The arrow exploded as it hit the red cross, and Evadne scrambled awkwardly back to her feet a short distance away, panting. The crowd whooped and cheered, the odd booing sound mingling with the celebration. Eryx realised his palms were sweating as he flexed his tense fists.

  Evadne bent to retrieve her bow, and it was clear her hands were shaking. She would never hit the target now. Eryx leaned forward as she planted her feet back on the cross and drew the loaded bow back for the last time.

  ‘Ready?’

  ‘Yes.’ She loosed immediately, and blessed relief swamped Eryx as Evadne’s arrow hit the target. She sagged as the archer’s arrow exploded, dropping the bow to the ground and turning towards the crowd. But instead of looking at her own crew, at Hercules, her eyes found Eryx’s. He stared, the sounds of the crowd dimming to nothing as her frightened, intense gaze bored into his.

  12

  Hercules said nothing as Hippolyta pronounced Nestor the winner of the skill test and told them they had two hours until the strength test. He said nothing when Evadne apologised to him, over and over again, as they were escorted to their own daybed-filled building for rest and refreshments. He said nothing until their escorts left and he was alone with Evadne and Asterion.

  ‘What in Zeus’s name did you think you were doing?’ he bellowed at the idiot girl. ‘All you had to do was hit a target! Everyone else hit the middle!’

  He raised his hand as he stepped towards her and she darted backwards, falling onto a cushioned bed. ‘You won’t avoid me this time, Evadne,’ he hissed. And she wouldn’t. He’d had enough. Enough of watching others claim his glory, of watching others get chances he didn’t, of watching others being aided by those stronger than they were. ‘Why did I end up with you? Lyssa gets a fighter, a centaur, a prince. Theseus gets the demi-goddess of pleasure, Antaeus gets a crew of inhumanly strong giants, and me? Why did I end up with a pathetic, useless, weak little girl that I can’t even bear to look at any more?’ he hissed.

  She didn’t look up at him, but tears streamed down her face. Satisfaction and desire pulsed through him. He would make her pay for embarrassing him one too many times.

  ‘Hercules,’ a woman’s voice said. He turned around slowly, dropping his raised arm when he saw Hippolyta. She held out a jug to him as she stepped into the cabana. ‘Wine?’

  He took a deep breath, and straightened up. She was a handsome woman, of that there was no doubt. But she paled in comparison to Hedone.

  ‘There are glasses behind you,’ said Hippolyta. Asterion hurried forward, lifting an ornate crystal glass from a table amongst the beds. ‘I’
ll have one too,’ she said to the minotaur. He bowed his head and picked up another quickly, trotting over with them both.

  ‘Thank you,’ Hercules said formally as Hippolyta reached him, then filled their glasses.

  ‘You know, I’ve seen few avoid an arrow as quickly as you did then,’ she said, and turned to Evadne. Hercules looked at the girl, still sitting on the bed, shaking. She just stared silently at Hippolyta, tears still rolling down her face. Coiled energy pounded through his body. ‘You did well,’ the woman said, and took her own glass to Evadne. Anger gripped Hercules as Hippolyta crouched in front of her.

  ‘Drink it. You will feel better,’ she said softly. Evadne took the glass, and drained it immediately.

  ‘You have no right—’ started Hercules, but the woman cut him off, standing up quickly.

  ‘I have every right,’ she snarled, advancing on him. ‘I am queen here, and what I say is final. If you lay a hand on that girl while you are here in Themiscyra, I will kill you myself.’

  Rage hammered through Hercules, his muscles tensing and swelling with power. He took a step towards her. She may look strong for a woman, but she was still just that.

  ‘I’d love to see you try,’ he hissed.

  Hippolyta barked a laugh and put both her hands on her hips.

  ‘Very well, mighty Hercules. I shall see you in the ring in two hours.’ She whirled around, stamping down the steps from the building. Hercules glared after her, his face twitching in fury.