Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) (9 page)

He pulled back his hand to hit her, knowing she well deserved it. But when he moved his arm forward, he could do naught but gently rub his fingers over her back end. Her softness was alluring. Her curves called out to him to take her. To thrust himself inside her in a form of a pleasurable punishment she would never forget. But he couldn’t. His body ached for her, and when she shifted and moved her hand to his lap to push upward, she unknowingly fondled his form.

“Oh,” she said, looking up from his lap with bedchamber eyes. “I see your reprimand has turned to lust, just like every other time we’re together.”

He slapped her playfully on the rump once and pushed her onto the bed. She turned over in the process, giving him a full view of her womanhood.

He groaned, and his loins hardened at the sight. “This lesson has turned into punishment for me instead.”

He tried to rise, but Lysandra pulled him onto the bed with enough force that he landed on his back. In one motion, she was atop him, her dagger pressed to his throat.

“Mayhap your little lesson was valuable after all,” she ground out. “How easily you are distracted by your lust. I could kill you before you even have a chance to breathe.”

In one quick motion, he flipped her over and pinned her hands above her head. Lowering his body over hers, she could not move beneath him.

“Ah, but you are so wrong, my little Amazon. Though my lust distracts me, your inexperience with men has robbed you of your wits. If I so wanted to right now, I could force myself upon you and you could do naught but submit.”

Her eyes darkened, her pupils growing larger from the suggestion, and now he saw only too clearly that her proclamation of hating men was naught but an act. She’d enjoyed their initial coupling as much as he. She couldn’t hide the fact. Her eyes stared at his mouth and her legs trembled underneath him.

“I dare you to try it,” she said, her tongue shooting out to moisten her lips. He held her hands above her head with one of his hands, and with his free hand he let his fingers slip down her collarbone and to her neck. Her head turned to the side and her eyes closed as his fingers glided lower, settling over one round swell. He closed his fingers in a light squeeze, and a slight moan left her lips, betraying her true feelings.

He wanted to lean over and kiss her. To take her mounds in his hands up to his face and then taste her from head to toe. But instead, he pushed away and got off the bed.

“Nay,” he said, adjusting his breeches. “’Tis just what you want. Again, you fight to gain control. Well, I will not give in to your warrior ways. I think you devised that whole scene below stairs because you were hoping I’d bring you up here to my chamber.”

“What?” She bounded from the bed. “’Twas your idea to bring me up here and bare my bottom.”

“It no longer matters, Lysandra. We need to keep our minds clear and our thoughts focused if we are going to go up against the gods.”

She looked so disappointed that he no longer wanted to play her little game. He couldn’t help but want to kiss her and tell her there would be plenty of time for love games after they’d reclaimed their son. But he kept his distance. He went to the window and looked out while she gathered herself together. If she made one more advance toward him he would not be able to stop. He would throw her on the floor and himself atop her. Then he’d pound into her with such fury she’d scream like a banshee when she found her release. He had promised himself he wouldn’t take her without her wanting it. But there was no doubt in his mind anymore. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. So what was holding him back?

His son, he told himself. He couldn’t enjoy himself until he knew his son was home and safe once again. But where was home for little Sander? And would he be safe if Lysandra won the challenges and took him into her care? Not if she returned to the Amazons. If she did that, Sander was as good as dead, no matter what kind of bargain Artemis agreed to. He had to win this challenge and bring Sander back to Thrace where he knew the boy would be safe. It pained him to think about going against Lysandra, but he had no other choice. She was right. There was to be no compassion between adversaries. There would only be one winner in Artemis’s little game, and it was going to be him.

“I think we should get some sleep,” she suggested, settling herself atop the bed. “After all, we will want to start out first thing in the morning for Mt. Olympus.”

“Aye.” He started for the bed, then realized there was no way he could get in bed with her after what just happened. He would never have a moment’s sleep with her lying by his side. He would be much better off far away from her. “I’ll sleep in the great hall tonight,” he suggested, and left the bedchamber.

Making his way back to the great hall, dinner was finished and the minstrels had struck up a soothing tune. He found Daedalus over by the fire, and motioning for a wench to bring him food, he sat down to join him.

“Daedalus, my good friend. What do you know about the lyre of Apollo?”

“Does this have something to do with the challenge Artemis set for you and the Amazon?”

“Aye.” He bit into the roasted fowl, savoring the flavor. A serving wench filled a tankard of ale for him, and he quaffed it down. He wondered if Lysandra was hungry, or if he should bring her food to regain her strength. He motioned to the wench and she joined them.

“Aye, my king,” she said with a slight curtsy.

“Tessa,” he said, having remembered having this wench on more than one occasion. “Please bring Lysandra food and ale in my bedchamber at once.”

She nodded and headed to the kitchen to carry out the order.

“I do know that Apollo keeps his lyre chained to his throne. He has had it since his birth, being a gift from his father, Zeus. He brings in a woman from the village to play it for him each night, and others to dance around him until he falls asleep.”

“Well, then it should be easy to steal.” Zarek continued eating and making plans in his head.

“Not necessarily so,” Daedalus stated. “He allows women only into his chamber. It seems while he has gorgeous women swooning over him constantly, he feels threatened by any men who come near. If he so catches one, besides his guards, he’s said to tear them limb from limb.”

“What a reassuring thought,” Zarek said, licking his fingers. “Lysandra has already got the advantage on this one. She is so beautiful that Apollo would not think twice about letting her enter. And if I know Lysandra, she will do anything to attempt to gain the lyre.”

Daedalus laughed and raised a mug of ale in a toast. “Then the best of luck to you, good friend, but I must say you do sound jealous of the thought of anyone having the Amazon but you.”

“She is the mother of my child,” he said. “Nothing else.”

“Well, as I said, good luck, Zarek. For you’re going to need it on your dangerous mission.” He raised the tankard of ale to his mouth.

“That’s where you come in, old man.”

Daedalus’s eyes widened and he almost choked on his drink. He coughed and sputtered, then wiped his chin. “What do you mean? I have no intention of venturing up to Mt. Olympus and trying to steal from the gods.”

“No, but I do. And I need your inventions to help me with my plan.”

*  *  *

Lysandra was half asleep when the knock came at the door. She bounded upward, at first thinking she was at home with the Amazons, ready to be attacked. She had always slept soundly, often not hearing an attack until it was upon them. Her mother had told her time and again she needed to sleep like a warrior, with one ear and one eye open, but she never could get used to that. Her body was still tired from birthing the baby, and although her mother had called her weak, she thought she’d been recovering quite quickly. Quickly, by the standards of a lady, but not quickly for an Amazon warrior.

The knock sounded again, and she slipped from the bed, searching the room for Zarek. He wasn’t to be found, and she knew he would never be knocking upon his own door, locked or not. She opened it to find a serving wench teetering a platter of food on one hand and gripping a tankard of ale in the other.

“Me many pardons, my lady, but King Zarek instructed me to bring you nourishment.”

“He did?” she asked in surprise. His courteous gesture pleased her. Especially since she knew the meal was over. Zarek had thought of her own needs. She hadn’t expected this from a man at all.

“May I bring it into your chamber?”

Lysandra surveyed the pretty young woman standing before her. Her eyes were as dark as a midnight sky and her hair was walnut flecked with auburn. She was young, but filled out her bodice fully, her waist tiny and her hips curvy.

“Please do.” Lysandra motioned with her hand and the girl stepped inside.

“Did you want it in bed like the others?”

“Others? What others?” She closed the door and followed the servant across the room.

“Why, King Zarek’s mistresses, of course.” She giggled when she said it.

“No. Put it down on the table by the fire.” What mistresses, she wondered? And why were they eating in Zarek’s bed?

“I envy you, my lady, as I know how exciting Zarek is in bed.” The girl’s eyes lit up and she stared into space. Her breathing increased, making her chest heave in and out.

“You sound as if you speak from experience,” Lysandra said with a frown.

“Oh, yes. I have been with King Zarek several times now and cannot wait for him to call for my services again. But tonight, you are the lucky one, my lady.”

“Aye. I am, aren’t I?”

Lucky indeed! Zarek had had his chance with her, and yet he’d turned away. She had done all she could think of to keep him in his bed, but even with her body exposed, he did not take her like she’d wanted. He had said the spanking should have been a punishment, yet he’d done nothing to her but one playful slap. What happened to the attraction between them? Why hadn’t he bedded her while he had the chance?

“What is your name?” Lysandra asked, curious to know more about Zarek’s lovers.

“My name is Tessa, my lady. I have worked at the castle since Lord Zarek inherited it from Lord Tereus.”

“What happened to Lord Tereus?” asked Lysandra, sitting down to her food.

“He was unfaithful to his wife, Procne, by seducing in secret her sister Philomela. ’Tis an awful story, my lady. He told Philomela that her sister was dead, and after they’d coupled, he cut out her tongue to keep her from talking. But his wife found out the truth by means of the story woven into a tapestry sent to her by her sister. Procne claimed revenge by killing their son and feeding him to Tereus.”

“Oh my! That is awful.” Lysandra pushed her platter away, no longer having an appetite to eat. “So what happened to them all in the end?”

“The gods punished them for their deeds. They were all turned into birds of one kind or another.”

“So that’s how Zarek claimed the castle? He didn’t steal it?”

The girl laughed. “Of course not, my lady. He is no longer a thief.”

Lysandra didn’t agree. The best thief in all Greece was back to his tricks. He had stolen her attention and intrigued her, whether he realized it or not. Not an easy feat for a man where an Amazon was concerned.

“So, tell me,” she said, pacing the floor. “What do you know about the god Apollo?”

“Apollo?” She sat in the chair Lysandra had vacated, and stared into the fire. “Oh, he is so gorgeous, women fall at his feet. His face is handsome, and his body pleasing. The women he chooses to dance for him never want to return home.”

“Women? What women?” she asked, trying to devise a plan.

“He calls for women from the village to join him at Mt. Olympus each morning. Some are chosen to dance for him, and one plays the lyre. The woman who pleases him the most wins.”

“Really?” she asked, thinking this task could be to her advantage. “And how do these women get chosen?”

“Each morning after Apollo has placed the sun in the sky, he lets the three Graces choose for him, from those standing outside his door. The lucky ones are invited in, and the others turned away.”

“And what if a man tried to enter?” she asked, knowing Zarek would no doubt be the first at his doorstep.

“Apollo doesn’t allow men in his chamber except occasionally the guards outside the door.”

Lysandra knew now what she needed to do. She would leave tonight while Zarek slept and beat him to Mt. Olympus. She’d be the first in line in the morning, and she would make certain she was chosen to enter and play the god’s lyre. Then, when the opportunity arose, she would walk out of there with the instrument in her hands, the winner of the first task.

“Thank you ever so much, Tessa,” she said, leading the girl to the door. “I will call for you again soon. I think we will become good friends.”

“I would like that,” she said with a deep sigh. “After all, we will both be sharing Zarek’s bed.”

Lysandra all but pushed the girl from the room and slammed the door. Never would she allow that wench to warm Zarek’s bed again. And she had no intentions of sharing him, either!

Nine

Zarek woke with a stiff neck from sleeping on his dais chair. One of the castle hounds slept at his feet, jumping up to lick his face when he noticed his master awaken. Zarek yawned and stretched, and rubbed his face in his hands. The sun shone into the great hall in streams of bright light, telling him he’d overslept.

“Daedalus?” he called, searching the sleeping bodies among the rushes for his inventor. “Daedalus, where are you?”

Not finding him anywhere, he marched up the stairs to his chamber. He would waken Lysandra and together they would climb up to Mt. Olympus. If they traveled by horse, they could make it there by nightfall. Traveling together, he could watch after her, even if she really didn’t need him. Once they got to Olympus, they’d be on their own as to trying to win the challenge. He pushed open the door to his room, expecting to see Lysandra still asleep. Instead, he found Daedalus with his back turned, tinkering with something at the work table at the far side of the room.

“Daedalus, where is Lysandra? Visiting the garderobe perhaps?”

The old man placed something on his head and turned around quickly. Zarek jumped back in surprise.

“Zeus’s eyes, man! What have you done to yourself?”

Daedalus walked over to greet him, a crop of blond hair on his head and paint on his cheeks. His lips were bright red like the fires of Hades. He had pillows stuffed down his tunic, placing two obvious bumps in strategic positions.

“This is your disguise to get into Mt. Olympus,” he said in a high feminine voice.

“Daedalus, you are mad. Take off that absurd disguise at once and talk in your own voice.”

The man did as told and handed the fake hair to Zarek. “Put it on.”

“I will not.”

“You said you wanted me to invent a way to get you into Apollo’s chamber. Now put it on.”

“I told you I wanted a disguise. Not a gender change. I will not go to Olympus looking like a damn wench.”

“All right,” said Daedalus, smoothing the fake hair between his fingers. “But when they refuse to let you in because you are a male, and Lysandra comes home the winner, don’t blame me.”

Zarek knew he was right. It was going to be hard enough lifting a lyre right from under a god’s nose. He needed to remain inconspicuous. He needed to blend in. He had thought of disguising himself as one of Apollo’s guards. But even that wouldn’t assure him access into the god’s chamber. And if he did get inside, he would surely be noticed trying to steal the lyre amongst a room full of girls. Daedalus may just have an idea after all, though he didn’t like it in the least.

“You’ve convinced me. Give me the thing.”

Daedalus placed the hair on Zarek’s head and shoved the pillows down his tunic. Then he took the red paint made from crushed berries and ran the brush over Zarek’s lips.

“How do I look?” asked Zarek, trying to see himself in a shield mounted on the wall. A knock came at the door, and Zarek shouted out, “Enter.”

“My king?” asked Daedalus before Zarek realized what he had done.

The door opened and the serving wench Tessa strutted in with bread and cheese in her hands. She screamed when she saw him and dropped the food at her feet.

“Tessa, what is it you want?” he asked. He pulled off the hairpiece and tossed it to Daedalus.

The girl hurriedly bent down and scooped up what she’d dropped.

“I didn’t know it was you, King Zarek. You look so…so…”

“If you’re leaving food for Lysandra, just put it on the table.”

“’Tis not for her, my king. I already brought her food last night, just before she left for Mt. Olympus. This is for you.”

“She left? When? How?” he hurried over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. She looked at his face with confusion in her eyes, then down to his arms. He released her, and she stepped away slowly.

“Sire,” she said, her eyes never leaving his face. “She left while the moon was high in order to secure a place at the door of Apollo.”

“She did what?” he pulled the pillows out of his tunic and threw them on the bed. “She was supposed to wait for me. Or at least I thought she would. What gave her the idea to leave on her own?”

“I do not know, my king. When I told her everything she needed to know last night, she did not mention anything about going without you. I was surprised when she summoned me later to say she was leaving.”

“’Tis not your fault, Tessa. I’m sure you didn’t do anything to make her change her mind. ’Tis me she is trying to avoid.”

“Oh, but my king, I made sure to tell her how nice you were to all the women you took to your bed.”

“You did what?”

Zarek shook his head in disgust, and wiped the red from his lips No wonder Lysandra wanted nothing to do with him. What kind of impression had this servant made on the mother of his child?

“I beg pardon, but I do not know what I did wrong.”

“Nothing, Tessa. Now get back to the kitchen.”

“Aye, King Zarek.” The girl left and closed the door behind her.

“Lysandra has already gone on to Mt. Olympus alone,” he spoke aloud. “Doesn’t she know the danger she courts?”

“I suppose she does,” said Daedalus. “And she is playing out the challenge smarter than you if I must say so.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, gnawing at a piece of bread. “This isn’t some kind of competition. Not really. We are both trying to save the life of our son.”

Daedalus picked at the hair, and ran a comb through it as he spoke. “You are right and you are wrong, if I may say so. You both want to save the baby’s life, but she is also concerned for the safety of her tribe. She is a true warrior by nature, and will do whatever it takes to win this challenge.”

“I care about my kingdom as much as she does her people.”

“I believe you, King Zarek. But how will you tell your people they will die when Lysandra beats you at the challenge?”

Zarek stopped chewing and the bread in his mouth turned dry. He swallowed deeply, wondering indeed what he would tell his people when Lysandra won the challenge and left him looking like a fool. As much as he wanted to save his son with Lysandra at his side, now he knew this was so much more. He had to fight for the lives of his people. Innocent people who didn’t deserve to die. If anyone was to feel the wrath of Artemis, then let it be the Amazon nation. But in the name of Zeus, he would not let his people down. He would do what it took to secure his holdings and protect his subjects. He would promise them Artemis would not harm a hair on their heads. And if Lysandra tried to stop him from beating her in the challenge, then she would have to fight him for it. He would put his feelings for her aside, because there was so much and so many lives at stake.

“Give me that damned hairpiece,” he said to Daedalus. “And lend me your wings, as I need to get to Mt. Olympus fast.”

*  *  *

Lysandra approached the gates of Mt. Olympus just after sunrise, hoping she wasn’t too late. She’d borrowed a plain white gown from Tessa and had the girl coil her hair in braided rivulets cascading down her back. Small red roses and olive leaves woven together by grapevines sporting clusters of purple fruit formed a circlet around her head. She had even borrowed several colored veils from the castle whore and wore them instead of her Amazon attire under the gown.

She hustled up to the gate, trying to walk gracefully though her sword was concealed, tied to her leg. Her dagger was serving as a hair clasp holding her circlet crown in place.

The guardsmen were just closing the gates, and Lysandra called out to stop them.

“Wait!” she called, seeing the other village women, all dressed in their best attire far ahead making their way to the chamber of Apollo. “Wait, I need to get inside the gates to see Apollo.”

“It is too late,” snarled one of the guards. “You will have to wait until the morrow. The crowd is already too large.”

“Let me in or I’ll - ” The frown on the man’s face told her she needed to try another approach. Her normal warrior threats weren’t going to work on these two men.

“Or you’ll what?” growled the second guard, drawing his sword.

She took a deep breath and released it, trying to remember she was only supposed to be a commoner. Never would a commoner speak that way to a guard of Olympus. She had to change her approach.

“Or I will have to tell Apollo when I see him that you tried to keep me all to yourself.”

“What would he care?” asked one. “He only wants women who can please him.”

“Aye,” said the other. “You may be attractive, but he wants a lady who can tempt him and tease him. He wants nothing to do with rough, brash wenches like you.”

Oh, how she wanted to run her sword through them. No one insults an Amazon princess and gets away with it. But if they knew she was an Amazon, they would also know she was trouble. They would never let her inside the gates unless she could convince them she was a gentle lady and a temptress of sorts.

“I beg your forgiveness, guards of Olympus, but you must be hungry.” She swung her hips and spoke in a husky voice and approached the gate. Taking a grape from the headpiece, she held it out toward one of the guards. “Let me feed you, kind sir. Let me tend to your needs. All of them,” she added with a wink.

“That sounds good,” said one, meaning to let her in. He reached for the gate, but the other stopped him.

“Nay. You will have to leave.”

She plucked another grape from her circlet and held it in her other hand, both high so they could see. Then she slid her hands right down her chest, stopping the grapes directly over her nipples. “But as you can see, I have plenty for both of you.”

The guards’ eyes lit up and they hurriedly pulled open the gate. They motioned for her to join them behind a tree, and she followed. She held out a grape for each of them and popped the fruit into their mouths.

“What do you think of me now?” she asked, pulling her hands away, using her finger to lure them to her. Their heads came closer, and when they bent to her, she used both her fists to smash them in the jaws. Then she lifted her gown and kicked them, sending them sprawling to the ground. One more punch to each and they were knocked unconscious.

“An Amazon is better than a lady,” she said wiping off her hands and straightening her headdress. Then running to catch up with the rest of the women, she headed for Apollo’s chamber.