Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) (8 page)

“Then you have my word. I will do as you wish,” Lysandra stated bravely.

“Lysandra,” said Zarek, getting to his feet. “These tasks are impossible. How can a mere mortal steal from a god? And live to tell about it, no less?”

“I would risk my life to save my son’s life, Zarek. Would you not do the same?”

Zarek wanted no part of this suicide mission, yet he had to get his son back before Artemis decided to kill him.

“There must be another way,” he stated, but Artemis only laughed.

“If you don’t both agree, then the bargain is off and I kill the child tonight.”

“Zarek! How could you?” Lysandra frowned at him, her warrior nature fully returned loud and strong.

“But you don’t know what you’re agreeing to,” Zarek tried to warn her. “She is a goddess who hates mortals, especially men. How do you know you can trust her?”

“You are a man, yet I trusted you with our son when I chose to leave with the Amazons,” Lysandra answered. “We have no other choice, Zarek. This is the only way.”

Zarek looked to Lysandra and knew she’d go out on her own if she had to, to foolishly try to save her child from the goddess. Then he looked at Artemis, her hands on her hips and legs planted in a stance. Either of the two were fierce enough to put even his best soldiers to shame. Now he knew why the Amazons worshipped the eternal virginal goddess of the hunt. And he also knew Lysandra was right. He had no choice but to agree to the challenge.

“All right,” he said finally. “I don’t like it in the least, but I’ll agree to the challenge, for the sake of my people and the life of my son.”

Eight

Desperate, Zarek would do anything to get his son back alive, but stealing from a god wasn’t appealing. ’Twas something he had never even considered. Until now. With Lysandra’s insistent nature, he knew she would have attempted the feats herself if need be. He had to go along, if for no other reason than to protect her. As if an Amazon needed protecting. But for some reason, he felt the need within him to see to her safety. But now he’d have to revert back to his old ways of thieving. Something he promised himself he would never do again now that he was king.

Artemis dissipated into thin air, leaving the two of them standing atop the battlements alone. Zarek’s men ran to and fro, and he could hear the Amazons approaching in the distance.

“Call off your tribe,” he warned Lysandra. “There is no need for them to be here, as the baby is already gone.”

“Call off your soldiers,” she matched him. “There is no need for defense if the Amazons will not be attacking after all.”

They made their way down to the bailey, and Zarek gave orders to his men, while Lysandra met her tribe at the gate and explained the challenge. Zarek watched from across the courtyard as the queen nodded her head and gave her women the order to return to Amazon lands. Zarek met Lysandra halfway, as she hurried toward him through the courtyard.

“This is absurd! Artemis is not only holding the life of our baby in her hands, but turning us against each other, don’t you realize that?” he asked.

“Of course I realize that.” She brushed past him and headed for the well. “She hates men even more than the Amazons and is trying to show me how worthless they really are.” She pulled a bucket up from the well and used a nearby dipper to take a drink.

“So, we’re back to that again are we? Strange, but for some reason I thought mayhap you had changed your mind about men. Or at least about me.”

She looked up at him from the ladle, her blue-green eyes shining in the moonlight. She studied his face for a moment, then put the ladle down. “And what if I have? Would that change things between us?”

“That all depends,” he said, taking her chin in his hand. “Would you want things to change between us?”

He lowered his lips ever so slowly over hers, and she closed her eyes and met him. Pleased that she didn’t pull away, Zarek interpreted this as a good omen. Her mouth was soft and cool from the water, and when he kissed her a second time, she warmed under his touch.

“I missed you, Lysandra,” he said, pushing a stray strand of her fiery hair behind her ear.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked, and he could see the hope shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Aye. I do. And I was hoping you’d come back. So was Sander.”

“And how do you know what Sander was thinking?”

“I have a way with babies,” he said with a grin. “Sander told me himself that he prefers your breast to the wet-nurse’s.”

That made her smile. Actually, it made her laugh. He’d never seen her smile, but now that he had, he never wanted to see it go.

“You have a nice laugh,” he told her. “I didn’t think Amazons knew how to laugh.”

“Really. That’s such a coincidence. I could say the same thing about kings.”

He smiled at that, and she playfully hit him on the arm. When he went to tickle her, she moved backward and almost fell in the well. He caught her in his arms and brought her closer, her body sliding down the side of the well and up against his in the process. He felt the heat between them and also the urge to tell her he couldn’t stop thinking about her. And even though they argued, he wasn’t happy unless she was by his side. But he had to know how she felt about him first. Since she didn’t seem like she wanted to offer the information, he decided to ask.

“What about you, Lysandra? Did you miss me as well?”

She stiffened in his arms and looked away. Zarek dropped his hands from her shoulders.

“I…I don’t know,” she said, not able to look him in the eye. “I am an Amazon. I was raised to hate men. But yet…but yet you are different than most men.”

“Different? How so?”

“I’m not sure.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her for warmth. “It just seems like…”

“Like what? Tell me, Lysandra.”

“Like we’re meant to be together. But that doesn’t make any sense. No Amazon has ever needed a man.”

“Are you saying you need me?” The thought pleased him, but seemed to sour her disposition.

“No Amazon will ever need a man for anything besides coupling to bring us daughters to make our tribe stronger.”

“And are you saying you feel this way too, Lysandra? After all, it seems to me you have a mind of your own. If you truly believed this, as well as all the other foolish things Amazons believe, then you wouldn’t have even hesitated when it came time to sacrifice Sander.”

“I don’t want to talk about this any more,” she said. “We have to keep our minds on important things. Such as saving the baby.”

“I agree. I suggest we retire to my bedchamber and go over our plan.”

“Our plan?” she asked with a laugh. “I think you are forgetting, we are racing against each other to gather up these items.”

“And I think you’re forgetting, sweetheart, that I am the only one of the two of us who is capable of possibly pulling this off.”

She pushed past him and headed for the great hall, and he followed “You think so highly of your thieving skills. But don’t forget, I have Amazon warrior skills.”

“Skills that are worthless when you’re going up against a god. You don’t need strength and force to steal from a god, Lysandra. Don’t you see? Artemis is hoping you’ll do just that. And the first time you use those skills, you’ll wind up dead. What you need to steal from the gods is cunning, quickness, grace and wit.”

They stopped at the foot of the stairway.

“All your qualities, I see. I suppose you don’t think I can do this,” she retorted.

“I’m not saying that. All I’m saying is why don’t we work together?”

“This is a contest, Zarek. I don’t think Artemis will understand compassion between adversaries. Only one of us can win this challenge. There is no other way.”

“Then if you refuse to work with me, I will do this on my own and save not only my son, but my kingdom. I care not in the least what happens to the Amazon nation.”

He climbed the steps to the great hall with her in tow. A servant boy opened the heavy door in wait and bowed his head.

“My king. My lady,” he greeted them.

Lysandra smiled, but Zarek just scowled at the boy.

“She is not a lady!” He left her standing there and made his way into the hall. Dinner was just being served, and his people awaited his presence to start. He headed for the trestle table where Daedalus awaited him.

“King Zarek,” the old man said, bewildered. “I have heard the goddess Artemis has appeared to you this night.”

“Yes, Daedalus,” he said, falling into his chair and leaning back, rubbing his hands over his face. “She was here.”

“Where is the baby?” he asked cautiously, and Zarek felt a stab to his heart, already missing his child.

“He has let my son be stolen by Harpies,” came Lysandra’s voice from beside him.

He opened his eyes to find her sitting at his right hand side, the place reserved for the lady of the castle, had there been one.

“I let the baby be stolen? I believe, dear Princess, ’twas you who held the baby high and all but offered him up as a sacrifice to the Harpy.”

“I would never sacrifice my son,” she said with a firm lip, “and you will never say that again.” She stood in anger, and picked up a wine goblet, emptying the contents down the front of his tunic. The room went suddenly silent. A gasp was heard from amidst the crowd and all eyes turned to him, waiting for his response. He slowly rose from the table, his eyes fastened on her, her gaze steady with his.

“Throwing wine isn’t like you, Lysandra. It’s more the act of an angered lady. Are you sure you don’t want to challenge me to a sword fight? After all, the Amazons would hardly approve of anything less.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was embarrassed by his words with the entire establishment watching her. She looked out to the crowd and then back at him. This time there was no wine throwing but a slap of her hand against his cheek.

She looked at him, waiting for his response.

“Still the act of a lady, not a warrior,” he told her. “And no woman, lady or not, will treat her king this way and get away with it.”

“You’re not my king,” she reminded him.

“Most wives are beaten for such intolerable behavior.” He had never hit a woman in his life, but before tonight he had never had a reason.

“Well, neither am I your wife.”

“Nay, but you are the mother of my son, so I think that’s close enough.”

All eyes remained on them, and he knew he had to take some sort of action to insure the respect of his people. But he could never hurt Lysandra. Still, if she were going to act this way, he had no choice.

“Continue,” he said soundly to his people, then grabbed Lysandra’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he spoke lowly.

“I’ll not be accused of wanting to kill my own child.”

“And I’ll not be accused of letting my son be stolen by Harpies when we both know ‘twas you to blame for that.”

He pulled her over to the stairs, and though the inhabitants of the hall continued on with the meal, all eyes and ears were still turned his way. He mounted the stairs, pulling her behind him, but halfway up, she broke free from his grip.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“To my bedchamber where I can punish you properly in private.” He grabbed her arm in a struggle and continued up the stairs, but she twisted out of his grip, once more causing him to turn around.

“So afraid are you to let your people see what it is you will do to me?” she asked. “Or are you afraid I will win this battle in front of your own people?”

“Nay,” he growled, pulling her behind him and kicking open the door. “I just thought to save you the embarrassment of having the entire castle see your bare behind when I put you over my knee to spank you.”

She raised an eyebrow in an almost curious manner, no longer struggling, but glancing around the room as they entered. He closed and locked the door behind them. Her sudden quietness added to his own uneasiness of what he was about to do. Still, she needed to be taught a lesson.

“Remove your sword,” he said sternly, and headed over to stoke the fire. She did as told and tossed her weapon to the floor.

“This sword isn’t mine,” she said. “And I would like mine returned. I fight better with my personal weapons.”

He picked up the poker and turned back toward her.

“You plan to use that on me?” she asked, with an arrogant smile. He didn’t, but it almost sounded as if she wanted him to try, just so she could prove her warrior skills of fighting without a weapon. He stabbed at the fire and then threw the poker back into its holder.

“No,” he said, rolling up his sleeves one at a time. “I will be using my hand only against your bare flesh.” He swept past her, pulling her along with him to the bed. He threw her onto it and she landed in a heap.

“Now pull up your skirt and remove your undergarments so I can spank you properly.”

She raised her head, her long fiery hair falling around her. With one hand she moved it from her face as she sat up on the bed.

“You do it,” she challenged him. Her defiant tone was back, but her eyes no longer held anger. Instead, he saw life and excitement, and if he wasn’t mistaken, playfulness.

“All right, I will.”

He lowered himself to the bed and pulled her to him. She didn’t put up a struggle as he laid her face first over his lap. His anger suddenly forgotten, surveying her in this position was quite enticing. He couldn’t help but think of a thousand different ways they could couple, this being a wonderful foreplay that could lead to a night of heart-pumping, deep thrusting, tantalizing ecstasy. The mere thought had him growing in his breeches, and the fire burning from within.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she spoke into the bed, and he wondered if she could hear his heart thumping against his ribs.

He reached out slowly, his fingers skimming the back of her bare legs, and to his surprise, he felt her muscles twitch in anticipation beneath his touch. He grazed his fingers upwards, carefully pushing the skirt up and over her buttocks to settle around her waist. Then he reached out slowly and pulled back her undergarment, leaving two beautifully muscled, rounded cheeks staring up at him.

His sudden need to reprimand her diminished, and in its place was the urge to caress her soft skin. He reached out, his hand trembling in the process, wondering if he would be able to control himself once he felt her nakedness in the palm of his hand.

“So where is the spanking you promised to give me?” she asked in a sultry voice.

Just her use of the word “promise” made it seem like more of a reward than a reprimand. A reward he wanted to give her until she squirmed in pleasure beneath his hand and begged for more.