House of Thebes (The Bloodstone Saga) (2 page)

I glanced at her and found her attempting to look sad.  I knew her well enough to recognize it as an act, however, and laughed.

“Mother, not five minutes ago, you were telling me how perfectly happy you are and how you do not need to marry my father.  Don’t try to draw parallels here where there are none.  Besides, I haven’t even met this man.  Yet.”

With that last word, I did my best imitation of a flounce as I headed for the door.  I heard my mother sigh as I rounded the corner and out of her sight.  I smiled in response.  It did her good to worry.  She was very used to getting things her own way.  This would be a nice change of pace for her.

I wound my way through the opulent halls of the palace and slipped out the back doors, through the gardens and into the fields beyond.  I turned just once to find Aphrodite watching me, her silver eyes filled with…something.  Anxiety?  Worry?  Curiosity?  It was difficult to say, but I put it out of my mind.  It didn’t matter. 

I crested the top of the hill and burst upon the trio of men as they good-naturedly bickered back and forth, arguing about which of them possessed the most impressive skills.

They stopped speaking as I approached and all three turned to watch me. 

I instantly felt self-conscious and a blush flared across my cheeks.  I dared a glance at Cadmus and found the corner of his mouth twitching, as though suppressing a smile.  He found my embarrassment amusing, which caused me to blush all the more. 

Ares narrowed his dark eyes as I stopped short in front of them. 

“Yes, daughter?” he demanded.  “What is it?  Is something wrong?”

I stared at him.  He knew there was nothing wrong.  But I could see that he didn’t want me here.  That was interesting, as well.

“Of course not, father,” I assured him.  “I simply wished for you to teach me the art of archery.”

My father watched me silently for a moment before he burst into laughter.

“You?  Archery?” he laughed again and I felt my flush returning.  So I wasn’t the most athletically inclined.  There was no need to be mean about it.

“Yes,” I answered firmly.  “You spend hours shooting and hunting with Ortrera, but never with me.  I simply thought to spend quality time with my father doing something that he loves to do.” I pasted the best innocent expression that I could muster onto my face.

Turning the tables on Ares and making him feel guilty for something he hadn’t even done was always effective, as much as I hated to do it.  It was a trick that my mother liked to use, not me.  But I felt an incredible need to meet this man, this prince of Phoenicia.  There was something about him, something oh-so-appealing. 

“Your sister enjoys the hunt,” my father answered uncertainly.  “I had no idea that you had an interest in it.  By all means, daughter.  We can start your lessons in the morn.”

“Oh.” My shoulder slumped.  “I thought we could start now,” I stuttered.  “I mean, you have your shooting equipment out here now and I’m here now so it just seemed convenient.” I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could.

“They are called bows, daughter, and yes, we do have them,” my father began, before he quickly narrowed his eyes again. “And yes.  It does seem convenient.  Too convenient.  Come here.”

I eyed him as I walked forward.  I wasn’t sure I liked the gleam in his eye.

“Come, daughter,” he motioned impatiently to a spot directly in front of him.  “If you would like to learn to hunt, I have the perfect opportunity.”

I followed his gaze and found a majestic peacock preening his colorful iridescent feathers in the sun some fifty yards from us.  I gasped and spun to look at my father. 

“Surely you don’t intend for me to shoot that beautiful bird!” I cried before I could stop myself.  “He’s not hurting us.”

My father gazed at me quietly, knowingly.  “Do you not wish to hunt?”

He was calling me on my bluff.  He knew it and I knew it. Apollo knew it.  But Cadmus did not know it, because he didn’t know me.  Yet.

I swallowed hard and forced out the hateful words.

“Yes.  I’d like to learn to hunt.”

This time it was my father’s mouth that twitched but I ignored it as I positioned myself in front of him and he handed me the bow.  Leaning forward, he adjusted my hands and offered me instruction.

“Pull back slowly and fluidly,” he advised.  “Keep both eyes open.”

I automatically squinted one eye as I examined the bird in front of me. 

“Keep one eye open,” Ares reminded me, his voice close to my ear. “Still your breathing.  Focus.  Don’t.  Even.  Blink.”

The bird continued to peacefully preen its feathers and I gulped as I eyed him.  He wasn’t afraid.  He had no idea that his life was almost at an end.   He was calm and quiet and was simply enjoying the morning sun.

I took aim, my fingers shaking.

I squinted one eye, then quickly remembered and opened it. 

I stared at the bird and gulped.

Then gulped again.

“I don’t want to do this,” I told Ares quietly.  When he didn’t respond, I whirled, the bow still in my hands. “I don’t want to do this.  That poor bird has never done anything to me.”

But in my inexperience, I accidentally released the arrow from the bowstring.  With a whistle, the arrow whizzed directly past my father and impaled itself in Cadmus’ strong thigh.  He dropped to the ground like a stone, his hands gripping the bloody arrow embedded in his flesh. 

To his credit, Cadmus didn’t yell and he didn’t curse.  Instead, he looked at me with calm, dark eyes.

“And what, pray tell, did I do?”

Chapter Two

“I’m so sorry,” I told Cadmus for the five-hundredth time.  “Truly, truly sorry.  Deeply sorry.”

I knelt next to him as Apollo helped him pull the arrow from deep within his thigh.  I cringed at the strange popping sound that his bone made when the arrow was dislodged and I could feel the tears forming in my eyes.  I had done this to him.  All because I wanted to meet him. 

“Harmonia,” my father admonished me.  “Get off your knees. I do not wish your mother to see you kneeling next to a slave. He’ll be fine.  It’s but a flesh wound.”

I could feel Cadmus staring at my father before I could even see it.

“A flesh wound?” Cadmus asked incredulously.  “Your daughter’s arrow was embedded in my bone.  That’s hardly a flesh wound.”  He turned to me.  “But your father is right.  I’m fine.”

Ares laughed.  “Stop being an infant, slave.  I’ve suffered worse wounds than this while shaving in the morning.”

Apollo and Ares laughed together and I crouched by Cadmus’ side, ignoring them.

“Truly, I’m sorry,” I said again, as I picked up his bloody hand.  “Very, very sorry.”

Cadmus stared at me, his gaze the color of rich chocolate. 

“I’m alright,” he repeated.  “Truly. You do not need to keep apologizing. You meant no harm.  You didn’t even wish to harm the bird.  I know that you didn’t wish to harm me.”

I shook my head in agreement.  “No, I did not.  I simply wanted to meet you.”

His eyes widened in surprise at my honesty.  “Meet me?”

I nodded without saying a word. 

“I saw you from my balcony and I wanted to meet you.”

His cheek was smeared with his own blood, but it didn’t detract from his beauty as he smiled.  “Well, here we are then.  My name is Cadmus.”

“I’m Harmonia,” I murmured, mesmerized by his dark gaze.  He had to be in so much pain, but he was effortlessly hiding it. 

“Yes, she is Harmonia,” Ares muttered.   “And she is my daughter.  Don’t even think about it, slave.”

Cadmus barely glanced at Ares.  Instead, he kept his gaze on me.  It pierced me with its intensity.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harmonia.”

“The pleasure is mine,” I answered softly.  

And it was.  His fingers were warm inside mine, and the feeling of his skin sent electricity jolting through me and set butterflies aloft in my stomach.  I’d never felt such a thing in all of my life.  He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, mortal or otherwise.

Ares jerked his head toward Apollo.  “We should get him to the palace and cleaned up.  Harmonia, go find your mother and stay out of trouble.”

“No, I’m coming with you,” I answered as I tagged along behind them.  Each of them had taken one of Cadmus’ elbows and was helping him limp toward the palace grounds. 

“No,” Ares replied through gritted teeth.  “You will go find your mother.”

I didn’t answer, but instead stayed right on their heels as they made their way through the gardens and into the servants’ quarters of the palace. 

They entered a small room and practically dropped Cadmus onto a narrow cot. He didn’t utter one word of complaint. 

“I’ll send a healer,” Ares said as he grabbed my arm on his way out.  With Apollo behind us, my father dragged me with him, not stopping until we reached the gardens.

“Go find your mother,” he instructed me sternly.  “I mean it.”

I nodded.  “Yes, father.”

He nodded back, satisfied at my obedience and turned around to walk away.  He went two steps before he paused and looked over his shoulder. 

“And Harmonia,” he grinned.  “That was an excellent shot.”

He was still laughing as he and Apollo disappeared through the garden gates. 

I waited for precisely two more minutes before I made a bee-line back to Cadmus’ bedside.  Bursting through his door, I found him reclining quietly, his eyes closed, his mouth tightened with his pain.  At the noise of my entrance, he looked up in surprise.

“Harmonia.”

His voice was husky and deep and quite honestly, the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.

I took a seat at his bedside, unable to help myself.  I poured him a glass of water and held it to his lips. 

“I’m not an invalid,” he said wryly.  But he took a drink anyway.  “Thank you.”

“They are sending a healer,” I told him, trying not to look at the bloody mess that was his leg. “I’m so sorry, Cadmus.  I really am.”

“Think no more about it,” he told me firmly.  “You didn’t mean to hurt me. I know that.  And I will be fine.”

He looked at me seriously.  “You know earlier… when you held my hand?”

I nodded.

“I liked it.”

Color exploded in my cheeks once again, and I hesitantly reached for his hand.  His long fingers curled around mine and I couldn’t explain the feeling that came over me.  He felt…just right. 

“You smell like honeysuckle,” he told me, closing his eyes. 

“I know,” I told him quietly.  “You smell like blood.”

He smiled, without re-opening his eyes.  “I know.  It’s your fault, though.”

“I know,” I whispered. I held his hand and watched him rest.  And just when I thought he was almost asleep, he spoke again.

“Harmonia?”

“Yes?”

“You certainly know how to make an impression.”

I smiled.

* * *

Once again, I stood on my balcony, this time watching Cadmus hobble slowly across the gardens.  It had been three weeks since I had shot him.  A healer had treated him, but since servants were considered too unimportant to waste magic on, no one had bothered to completely heal his wounds.  As a noted healer, Apollo could have done it in a scant second, but he wouldn’t trouble himself. I knew that much.

My parents had recognized my infatuation with Cadmus and had interfered in my every effort to see him.  My mother had not left my side and even now, she hovered next to my elbow.

“Mother, someone needs to heal Cadmus,” I told her once again, just as I’d told her twenty times before.  “Please.  I hurt him.  I cannot bear to see him pained by my clumsiness.”

She stared at me sympathetically.  “Poor girl. You must feel awful.  But you know how Zeus feels about using magic on the servants.  I do not wish to risk his wrath for this.”  She shrugged and I gritted my teeth.

“Why does Zeus even care?” I muttered.  “It’s not like our magic is a limited resource.  There’s plenty to go around.”

Aphrodite shrugged again.  “I know not.  You know how your grandfather is.  It is a status thing, I am sure.”

“I’m sure,” I agreed. 

Quietly, I watched Cadmus make his way slowly to a stone bench and lower himself carefully onto it.  He remained still, watching the birds.  Every once in awhile, I saw him wince, presumably from twinges of pain.

“I cannot bear this!” I announced to my mother.  “This is not right.”

“Harmonia,” she warned.  “He is not your responsibility.  Don’t do anything rash.”

“Too late,” I answered.  And with that, I blurred into immortal speed.  I found myself by Cadmus’ side in half a minute.  My mother didn’t follow, much to my surprise.

“Harmonia!” Cadmus smiled, looking up from the bench.  He started to get up, but I put a hand on his shoulder.   

“Don’t get up.  You act like you’re happy to see me,” I said lightly, although my heart did actually quicken in response to his voice. 

“I am,” he answered.   Even wounded, he was strikingly handsome.  He seemed so tanned and healthy, even with the gash in his leg.  I winced. 

“How is your leg?” I asked, afraid of the answer.  He shrugged.

“It’s getting better.  Don’t trouble yourself.”

I sat down next to him, mindful of the heat his body produced.  I found that I wanted to melt into it, even though I wasn’t cold.  There was just something about him. 

We sat in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just…silent.

Finally, I spoke.

“So, you’re indentured to my father?” I asked politely.  Cadmus didn’t miss a beat. 

“Yes.  I killed his dragon. It’s sort of my thing.” 

“Your thing?” I smiled.  There was a certain edge of arrogance to him, but it was pleasant.  I found that I quite liked it. 

He nodded.  “My thing.  I’ll be forever known in the mortal world as the Phoenician who killed Ares’ dragon.”

“But this particular dragon cost you eight years of your life,” I pointed out.  Cadmus shrugged, unconcerned. 

“What’s eight years?  Besides.  I’ve spent seven of them living in paradise among the gods.  And now I’ve met you.  There are fates far worse than that.”

My eyes widened.  “You’ve been here for seven years already?  How is it that I haven’t seen you about?”