Styxx (DH #33) (14 page)

Still, he couldn’t hear one single thought from his uncle. How was that possible?

Disturbed by the anomaly, Styxx placed Galen’s xiphos on the rack where his trainer normally kept it.

“So tell me, young Styxx. Has any woman caught your attention or heart yet?”

It was all he could do to not curl his lip in revulsion of that question. Between his mother and Ryssa’s hateful lunacy and the faithless, mercurial women who threw themselves at him constantly, tying one to him was the last thing on his mind. “No.”

“No?” Estes was aghast as if he couldn’t fathom such. “How can you be so young and handsome, and not in love?”

It might help if he wasn’t a complete stranger to that emotion. “I find women tedious and demanding. Boring and unappetizing. I’ve no interest in them.”

Estes arched a brow at that. “You prefer the bed of men, then?”

This time, he did screw his face up in disgust as memories assailed him. “Gods, no. Hardly. I find the bed of neither one appealing.”

His uncle gaped then choked. “Virgin still? At
your
age? Inconceivable. Both your father and I had bastards aplenty by the time we were ten-and-five. And your brother has long since found the pleasures to be had in the arms of others. I can’t even begin to count the lovers Acheron has had.”

“I guess I’m not the man my brother is.” Of course it helped to not spend the better part of a year being tortured for demons you didn’t have.

After that …

He had no desire to be touched by anyone, for any reason.

Styxx left Galen’s headquarters and walked toward the dressing room.

Estes followed after him. “Hey now, I didn’t mean to offend you with my shock. I spoke out of turn.”

Yes, you did, asshole. Why else mention it?

Still angry at the insults, Styxx said nothing as he unlaced his cuirass. Estes helped him remove it. While his uncle took it to the mannequin, Styxx removed his black chiton and reached for his white one.

As his uncle turned back toward him, Estes sucked his breath in sharply at the ugly sight of the numerous scars on Styxx’s body. Reaching out, his uncle laid his hand over the ones marring Styxx’s left rib cage. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

His fury mounting at the useless sympathy, Styxx stepped away from his uncle so that he could unlace his greaves.

“Styxx…”

“Please, Uncle. I’ve no wish to talk about it. What’s done is done.”

And you said it yourself at the time. I’ve never been the same.
The whole experience, combined with his mother’s unwarranted and brutal attack, had robbed him of any sense of security or value.

At best he felt like an unwelcomed intruder with his family, at worst, a despised bastard stepchild. He just wanted to be away from them all.

Estes grimaced as he saw the additional scars that lined his back and groin. “Is that why you haven’t taken a lover?”

In part, but not for the reasons Estes was thinking. He wasn’t ready to answer questions about those scars and why a prince who’d never been to battle would carry such. “All of my equipment is fine and in proper working order. That has nothing to do with my decision. The priests took great precaution to ensure they didn’t leave me impotent or sterile.” His tone was as frigid as the anger in his heart over it.

And Estes finally realized how volatile this subject was with him. “All right. It’s none of my business. But I am here for you, Styxx. If you need me.”

No, you’re not. You’re a chicken-shit bastard
. And that was the problem he had with his uncle. Like everyone else, Estes lied to his face. His brave, noble uncle whose heroic deeds had been told and retold by historians, poets and scribes had been too scared of his father to bring him home against his father’s wishes and save him from his torment. Instead, the war hero had tucked his tail between his legs and walked out and left a child to suffer. How could he ever forgive that?

Styxx’s gaze went to the five-inch scar on his forearm his father had given him, and the pain of the past racked him hard. He was so tired of it all. The lies, the duality. The hatred.

Failed expectations on everyone’s part.

He moved to wash himself. “If you don’t mind, Uncle, I should like to be alone for awhile.”

“I thought you hated isolation.”

That was before he’d been forced into it and had learned to make a bitter peace with the voices that shouted and whispered in his head. “People change.”

“So they do.” Estes clapped him on the back. “I shall leave you to your own company. But know that I do love you, nephew.”

If love meant abandoning someone when they were helpless and being victimized, then he could do without it. But what did he know of Aphrodite’s charms?

That bitch hated him like everyone else.

A tic worked in his jaw as he glanced to his helm and the image of Athena that mocked him, too. He should pry that badge off and replace it with Eris or Odia. They were the only residents on Olympus he could relate to.

Styxx toweled himself off and dressed then swirled his chlamys around his shoulders. He made a hood to shield his face. The last thing he wanted was to go home where his father would make more demands of him. Ryssa would revile him with her rancid tongue, and some random whore would grab his cock and try to pull him inside her.

I just want five minutes of peace.…

There was a new play in town. If he hurried, he wouldn’t miss more than a few lines. At least there he could forget this world for a short time and live in another. And so long as he sat in the common seats, no one would bother him. He could be just like everyone else.…

At least for a little while.

Lifting his hand, he held the cowl in place as he all but ran to the paltry haven he had.

*   *   *

“
E
stes?”

His brother looked up from the scroll he was reading at Xerxes’s desk across the room. “Yes?”

Folding his arms over his chest, Xerxes leaned against the wall behind him. “What do you honestly think of Styxx?”

Estes gave him an arch stare. “How so?”

Xerxes hesitated and debated with a matter that plagued him constantly. One he didn’t dare breathe a word of to anyone other than his brother. While he might doubt Styxx’s paternity in private, the boy was the only heir he had. Publicly, he must always act as if there was no question about his loyalty to Prince Styxx. If Styxx didn’t inherit, civil war would tear his kingdom apart and there was no one else strong enough to put it back together.

And while Estes would be strong enough to hold it in his lifetime, he would never father an heir. Which would ultimately destroy the proud House of Aricles.

Xerxes could never allow that.

Didymos had to have a strong, uncontested king on her throne. Even if it meant putting a man there he hadn’t fathered.

“Does he seem … odd?”

Estes leaned back in his wooden chair and thought about the question. “He’s at that awkward point where he’s neither boy nor man, but a combination of the two, brother. His body is changing and growing faster than he can keep up with and he’s being assailed with potent desires he’s never known. He’s also facing the reality that one day, after you’re gone, he will rule and be responsible for the largest Greek city-state and her army and people. Honestly? We were all odd at his age. You more so than I.”

Xerxes laughed. “No one was odder than you, brother.” But Estes was right. At Styxx’s age, Xerxes was terrified every day of losing his father and being saddled with a throne he wasn’t ready to ascend. He’d been so nervous about it that he’d driven his father to madness with his constant concern for his health.

And he’d barely been ten-and-seven when his father had succumbed to a sudden illness.

Yet he didn’t sense that from Styxx. The prince was extremely distant and withdrawn from him and everyone else. At times, he even feared the boy might make an attempt on his life.

Xerxes sighed. “Perhaps. But he doesn’t really favor us, does he?”

“Are you mad? He has the same blond hair and blue eyes. The same broad shoulders.”

“His features—”

“Are his own. Granted. Still, most men would kill to have a boy so handsome. If you doubt it, offer him up at market and see how rich you’ll be.”

“I’m not going to sell my son!” Xerxes growled.

“Then you admit he’s yours?”

Xerxes snorted at his brother’s trickery. Estes had always been able to outmaneuver him. It was what made his brother such a brilliant military commander. He could always think nine steps ahead of anyone else and he knew how to manipulate people to get them to do exactly what he wanted.

Even so, Xerxes couldn’t get past the feeling in his gut that told him Styxx had a father other than him. That Styxx was more Acheron’s brother than Xerxes’s son.

Estes rubbed at his beard. “Brother, have you seen the scars Styxx carries?”

Xerxes scowled. “What scars?”

“He’s your son. How have you missed them? They cover the poor child. Down his back, across his groin and ribs … Not to mention his own mother tried to kill him and his older sister berates him every time he speaks and many times when he doesn’t, and all the while you laugh at her attacks and think her disrespect is cute. Given all that, I should think he’s entitled to being a little strange from time to time. He’s been through more tragedies and challenges in his short life than most men experience in a lifetime.”

That might be part of what he sensed.

But there were times when he felt absolute hatred for him radiating from the boy. Times when he felt like Styxx was plotting and conniving against him. “He keeps things from me.”

“Should I remind you of the secrets we hid from Father? Starting with that red-haired slave girl we shared when we were at our Uncle Arel’s?”

He laughed at the memory of two of the best weeks of his life. “She was a sweet treat.”

“Indeed.”

Maybe Estes was right, after all.… “I suppose I am overreacting. I just worry about him and our kingdom.”

“That is what kings and fathers do.”

Xerxes laughed. “Then I am great at both.”

“Of course you are.”

Xerxes smiled at the brother he loved more than anything. “I miss you so when you’re gone. I hate that I only get to see you once a year, and always too short a stay.”

“Perhaps I could remain longer on my next visit. Maybe take Styxx hunting for a week without you? He might confide in me if he’s away from here and his responsibilities. Then I could observe him and see if he’s normal or not, and report back to you what I find.”

“Wonderful idea. And I think he’d like that. He’s been rather sad and withdrawn for quite some time now.”

Estes smiled. “I shall look forward to my time alone with Styxx. His hair should be back to its normal length by then, and his body more developed.”

“What has that to do with anything?”

“He should have more confidence in himself. Feel more like a man and less like a frightened boy.”

Xerxes scoffed. “I doubt he could have any less. ’Tis another matter that irritates me where he’s concerned. He skulks about like a terrified peasant and not a prince.” And that, too, made him doubt Styxx’s paternity. Surely,
he
wouldn’t father such a scared little mouse.

Estes crossed the room and clapped him on the shoulder. “Put it out of your mind, brother. I will take care of my nephew and his needs. I promise you. One week with me and he will be an entirely different person. Trust me. I know just how to make a man of him.”

May 9, 9533 BC

Styxx sat alone in the dining room, drinking wine as he sought to silence the screaming gods in his head. He didn’t know why on this day and his birthday they were so much worse than normal, but they were. It was as if they sought to drive him to true madness.

Leave me alone!

Still, they raged.

He added another round of wine and water to his cup and wondered how much more he’d have to consume before he passed out from it. Surely he was almost there. He’d been at this for hours now and had downed almost three full jugs.

As he sat back in his chair, he felt a presence in the room with him. At this hour of the night, no one should be awake except for the soldiers patrolling outside. Even his personal guard was now snoozing out in the hallway.

I need to replace them with two who don’t snore so loudly.

Turning his head, he found one of his sister’s maids standing in the doorway, watching him.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“I saw the candle burning and thought it’d been left alight by accident.”

Sure she did. ’Cause candles were always being left unattended like that.…

Liar.
Just once, he’d like to find a woman who honestly admitted that she spied on him because she wanted to fuck him. Instead, they played their games as if he was too stupid to know the truth.

“As you can see now, it isn’t.” He took a deep quaff of his wine.

Instead of leaving, the pretty blond came closer. Licking her lips suggestively, she leaned against the table next to him. “Would you care for some company, Highness?”

“Not particularly.”

“Truly?” She dragged her hand over her right breast, causing the nipple to harden and protrude through the thin white linen.

Fascinated, he couldn’t take his eyes off it as his mouth watered for something sweeter than wine.

She slid closer so that she could straddle his knees. His own body hardened at the sight of her like that. The sides of her peplos parted, showing him the entire length of her luscious flesh. “Have you ever touched a woman’s breast, my lord?”

Too drunk to think straight, he couldn’t speak.

So she reached up and removed the fibula from her peplos. The material fell to her waist, exposing her upper body to his hungry gaze. His throat went dry. Though her alabaster breasts weren’t very large, they were nicely formed and would easily fill his palm.

Licking her lips, she slid her hips on top of the table in front of him then lifted the hem of her gown up to her thighs and flashed him an image of the curly blond hair at the juncture of her thighs. “Would you like to touch me?”