HERA by Iliad Alba (book recommendations for young adults TXT) đź“–
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unfortunate souls to my realm.”
“We are here to because of you, noble being. We are in need of you,” she paused as he let out a chuckle. “This amuses you?”
“I am sorry, it is just that try to see this from my point of view. I’ve been locked down here for countless years and now those who once deemed me dangerous to all of Argos, are now seeking me to save them?”
“I know nothing of your imprisonment or why you where thought to be dangerous, all I know is that you are the only one who can save us!”
“Is that so? Then might I ask, save you from what?”
Rhea glanced unsurely at Nurmitor; he stood straight beside her gripping firmly the handle of his sword. He nodded to her.
“War, persecution, exile,” she said raising her voice. “The Land of Argos is dying and with it are its children. The desert stretches further than ever, sea levels are on constant rise. The snow from the mountains already touches the ground. Violent storms come and go more frequently. As the land withers the remaining areas capable of sustaining life are under constant conflicts as chieftains’ fight for it.”
“Most disappointing for you, but why do you think that I would help you?”
“Because I know her name!” she blurted.
For the first time Rhea spotted the dark figure move, he lowered his hands on his lap and sank his head deliberative manner. “Who are you speaking of?”
“I know her name, the one you have dreamt about every night, the one you have sought for so long. I know the name of your beloved.”
He stood up, even though he was cloaked by the shadows, Rhea could make out his slender and yet strong build. “How could you possibly know this?”
She didn’t respond, only averted her eyes away from him.
“Fine. Then you may leave,” he said mildly.
“We can’t, you have to come with us!”
“I don’t have to do anything for you,” his voice rang around the room. “You should be glad of what I offer you, few who have entered this place have left alive. And take this one with you.”
Before she could ask who he meant, a large creature stepped from his side. The creature was white and had a long golden mane and burning sets of yellow eyes. Rhea gasped, she had only heard stories of such beast, it was the Nemean Lion. She had thought the lions to be extinct along with the valley of Nemea. The lion dragged with its teeth a thin man wearing blood soaked garments.
It was Faustulus. “What have you done with him!” Rhea would have rushed to him, if nor for Nurmitor who seized her by her arm.
“I have done nothing,” he said calmly. “If not for my intervention Cerberus would have feasted with his flesh. You may take him with you, but I warn you that his wounds are too severe, he won’t last long.”
The lion retreated to the shadows. Faustulus moved slowly, unable to stand up he crawled.
This was too much for Rhea; she yanked her arm off Nurmitor’s grip and rushed to Faustulus. She took a hold of him and rested him on her lap as she took a close look of his wounds.
His clothes where torn as were most of the skin on his back, exposing his bare bloody muscles. His left arm hang loose by few muscle threads, and his chest had a deep carving running from his abdomen up to where his throat began. There was no question about it, he was dying.
“Faustulus, I’m so sorry,” Rhea wept as she gazed at his hazy stare. He moved his lips, but there were no words. “I can’t understand.”
Nurmitor’s hand descended on her shoulder. “He said that, he’s our only hope.”
Rhea looked back at him, but his eyes where already closed. He was gone. A sudden flow of emotions rushed to her chest, she wanted to cry like the wolf does by the sight of full moon, instead she rested Faustulus lifeless body on the ground and looked angrily at the throne. There was nothing there, he was gone.
“Where did you go!” she cried.
“Rhea,” said Nurmitor who looked at the entrance of the chamber.
She looked too, her eyes went wide. Six men stood there, not statues, but real warriors. All of them where tall and had long dark hairs. They whore leather garments and on top of them light chest armors. Two of them whom stood on the side had pulled the strings of their bows back aiming their arrows at her and Nurmitor.
The one on the middle had a long blade set on the throat of a young man, who was unrecognizable under all the blood that covered his face.
Rhea gasped, she didn’t need to see the young man’s face, he’s curly dark hair was enough for her to recognize him. “DARDANUS!”
“Don’t move,” said the one holding him. He smiled revealing wide gap on where his front teeth should have been. “Or I’ll swear I’ll cover this place with his blood.”
Rhea froze still.
Nurmitor said nothing he stood silent as always, holding his sword ready.
“You are of Amulius’ people aren’t you? And here we thought we were chasing common slaves. I know a certain king who would pay fortune to get his hand on one of your kind,” he chuckled as did some of his men. “Before we take you with us I have to ask, what brought you to this forsaken place?”
Rhea looked at Dardanus, under the blood she could see his eyes, there was still fire there.
The man holding him smiled as he noticed Rhea’s stare. “Brave little on he sure is, took six of us out with his bow. What a shame Quinrinus would have need of a man of his valor.”
“That name, say that name again,” said a sudden voice hiding among the shadows of the statues.
“Who was that?” the man said raising his blade so that it was now direct on Dardanu’s Adam’s apple.
It’s him, Rhea thought. The Son of Ares.
“SHOW YOURSELF!”
Then silence, an abrupt whoosh sped past Rhea, before she could blink one of the men holding a bow was nailed to the wall with a spear.
The other one stretched his string readying to fire at the direction from where the spear flew, but then a low growl froze him. Cerberus jumped out of the shadows, sinking it’s fangs on the archers arm and then dragging him back into the shadows, where the man’s desperate cries could be heard.
Nurmitor wasted no time; he jumped forth and with one strike opened the chest of one warrior, killing him in an instance.
Rhea ran for the one who held Dardanus, as he was disrupted by Nurmitor’s sudden attack. Nurmitor exchanged blows with a man who was twice his size and half his age, but this didn’t matter for she knew there was few men in all of Argos who could match his skills.
Rhea snuck from the behind the warrior holding Dardanus, but then a powerful arm grabbed her from the throat and slammed her against the wall. Her sight went dark for a second; she opened her eyes only to see a blade looming before her.
She tried to struggle, but the man held his grip pushing her tighter against the wall.
“Don’t come close old man!” cried the one holding Dardanus as Nurmitor started for Rhea. “And you in the shadows, your quick, but you can’t save them both. So I suggest you let us leave.”
“N-no! Don’t l-let them take h-her!” cried Dardanus. “S-save her! Save her!”
“SILENCE!” the man cried making a small cut on his throat. “The next one will go through your throat!”
“Let him go!” Rhea couldn’t bear to watch as her friend was being tortured.
“Shut up you whore!” the man squeezed her throat so tight that she thought she was going to faint. She closed her eyes, desperately gasping for air.
Then a heavy clunk. She opened her eyes; a large round golden shield was attached to the wall right next to her. There were nine circles decorating it, begging from the centre and moving outward, each circle had strange markings running along them. If not for the blood spatters spread over it, the shield would have been an object of great beauty.
Rhea looked at the man who held her, where there was once a head, was now only a bloody neck. She screamed as hard as she could, pushing away the headless torso that still had a dead grip on her. When her eyes met the head of the man lying on the ground with his gaze set on her, she was on the verge of throwing up.
“NO!” the other man cried and drove his sword through Dardanu’s chest and then yanked it off.
That’s when Nurmitor threw his sword at him, piercing the last man’s head and sending him dead to the ground.
“DARDANUS!” Rhea ran for him, grapping him before he collapsed to the ground. She held him warmly at her embrace, rivers of tears running down her cheek. “Please don’t die, please.”
“Rhea…y-you have to f-find him.”
“She found me son.”
Rhea looked up; she could see vaguely his figure standing in the dark. Then he stepped out of the shadows, revealing a man of normal height clothed only in a loincloth and a sword that hang from his waist. He had lean muscles and broad shoulders, and a skin of dark brown color; which was not tanned by the days spent under the sun, but was acquired by birth. He was unlike anyone she had set her eyes on.
He walked past her to the wall where the shield was attached to. With one strong pull he jerked it off the wall. “The pain of not knowing where she is, what she looks like, or not knowing even her name is as wrenching as the one you’re having now. So I will ask you this only one time, do you know her name.”
“I know her name,” Rhea responded.
“Then take me to your leader,” he looked at her, his stare bathing in the glooms of his red horsehair crested golden helmet. “Tell him that the Son of Ares is ready to aid you.”
“We are here to because of you, noble being. We are in need of you,” she paused as he let out a chuckle. “This amuses you?”
“I am sorry, it is just that try to see this from my point of view. I’ve been locked down here for countless years and now those who once deemed me dangerous to all of Argos, are now seeking me to save them?”
“I know nothing of your imprisonment or why you where thought to be dangerous, all I know is that you are the only one who can save us!”
“Is that so? Then might I ask, save you from what?”
Rhea glanced unsurely at Nurmitor; he stood straight beside her gripping firmly the handle of his sword. He nodded to her.
“War, persecution, exile,” she said raising her voice. “The Land of Argos is dying and with it are its children. The desert stretches further than ever, sea levels are on constant rise. The snow from the mountains already touches the ground. Violent storms come and go more frequently. As the land withers the remaining areas capable of sustaining life are under constant conflicts as chieftains’ fight for it.”
“Most disappointing for you, but why do you think that I would help you?”
“Because I know her name!” she blurted.
For the first time Rhea spotted the dark figure move, he lowered his hands on his lap and sank his head deliberative manner. “Who are you speaking of?”
“I know her name, the one you have dreamt about every night, the one you have sought for so long. I know the name of your beloved.”
He stood up, even though he was cloaked by the shadows, Rhea could make out his slender and yet strong build. “How could you possibly know this?”
She didn’t respond, only averted her eyes away from him.
“Fine. Then you may leave,” he said mildly.
“We can’t, you have to come with us!”
“I don’t have to do anything for you,” his voice rang around the room. “You should be glad of what I offer you, few who have entered this place have left alive. And take this one with you.”
Before she could ask who he meant, a large creature stepped from his side. The creature was white and had a long golden mane and burning sets of yellow eyes. Rhea gasped, she had only heard stories of such beast, it was the Nemean Lion. She had thought the lions to be extinct along with the valley of Nemea. The lion dragged with its teeth a thin man wearing blood soaked garments.
It was Faustulus. “What have you done with him!” Rhea would have rushed to him, if nor for Nurmitor who seized her by her arm.
“I have done nothing,” he said calmly. “If not for my intervention Cerberus would have feasted with his flesh. You may take him with you, but I warn you that his wounds are too severe, he won’t last long.”
The lion retreated to the shadows. Faustulus moved slowly, unable to stand up he crawled.
This was too much for Rhea; she yanked her arm off Nurmitor’s grip and rushed to Faustulus. She took a hold of him and rested him on her lap as she took a close look of his wounds.
His clothes where torn as were most of the skin on his back, exposing his bare bloody muscles. His left arm hang loose by few muscle threads, and his chest had a deep carving running from his abdomen up to where his throat began. There was no question about it, he was dying.
“Faustulus, I’m so sorry,” Rhea wept as she gazed at his hazy stare. He moved his lips, but there were no words. “I can’t understand.”
Nurmitor’s hand descended on her shoulder. “He said that, he’s our only hope.”
Rhea looked back at him, but his eyes where already closed. He was gone. A sudden flow of emotions rushed to her chest, she wanted to cry like the wolf does by the sight of full moon, instead she rested Faustulus lifeless body on the ground and looked angrily at the throne. There was nothing there, he was gone.
“Where did you go!” she cried.
“Rhea,” said Nurmitor who looked at the entrance of the chamber.
She looked too, her eyes went wide. Six men stood there, not statues, but real warriors. All of them where tall and had long dark hairs. They whore leather garments and on top of them light chest armors. Two of them whom stood on the side had pulled the strings of their bows back aiming their arrows at her and Nurmitor.
The one on the middle had a long blade set on the throat of a young man, who was unrecognizable under all the blood that covered his face.
Rhea gasped, she didn’t need to see the young man’s face, he’s curly dark hair was enough for her to recognize him. “DARDANUS!”
“Don’t move,” said the one holding him. He smiled revealing wide gap on where his front teeth should have been. “Or I’ll swear I’ll cover this place with his blood.”
Rhea froze still.
Nurmitor said nothing he stood silent as always, holding his sword ready.
“You are of Amulius’ people aren’t you? And here we thought we were chasing common slaves. I know a certain king who would pay fortune to get his hand on one of your kind,” he chuckled as did some of his men. “Before we take you with us I have to ask, what brought you to this forsaken place?”
Rhea looked at Dardanus, under the blood she could see his eyes, there was still fire there.
The man holding him smiled as he noticed Rhea’s stare. “Brave little on he sure is, took six of us out with his bow. What a shame Quinrinus would have need of a man of his valor.”
“That name, say that name again,” said a sudden voice hiding among the shadows of the statues.
“Who was that?” the man said raising his blade so that it was now direct on Dardanu’s Adam’s apple.
It’s him, Rhea thought. The Son of Ares.
“SHOW YOURSELF!”
Then silence, an abrupt whoosh sped past Rhea, before she could blink one of the men holding a bow was nailed to the wall with a spear.
The other one stretched his string readying to fire at the direction from where the spear flew, but then a low growl froze him. Cerberus jumped out of the shadows, sinking it’s fangs on the archers arm and then dragging him back into the shadows, where the man’s desperate cries could be heard.
Nurmitor wasted no time; he jumped forth and with one strike opened the chest of one warrior, killing him in an instance.
Rhea ran for the one who held Dardanus, as he was disrupted by Nurmitor’s sudden attack. Nurmitor exchanged blows with a man who was twice his size and half his age, but this didn’t matter for she knew there was few men in all of Argos who could match his skills.
Rhea snuck from the behind the warrior holding Dardanus, but then a powerful arm grabbed her from the throat and slammed her against the wall. Her sight went dark for a second; she opened her eyes only to see a blade looming before her.
She tried to struggle, but the man held his grip pushing her tighter against the wall.
“Don’t come close old man!” cried the one holding Dardanus as Nurmitor started for Rhea. “And you in the shadows, your quick, but you can’t save them both. So I suggest you let us leave.”
“N-no! Don’t l-let them take h-her!” cried Dardanus. “S-save her! Save her!”
“SILENCE!” the man cried making a small cut on his throat. “The next one will go through your throat!”
“Let him go!” Rhea couldn’t bear to watch as her friend was being tortured.
“Shut up you whore!” the man squeezed her throat so tight that she thought she was going to faint. She closed her eyes, desperately gasping for air.
Then a heavy clunk. She opened her eyes; a large round golden shield was attached to the wall right next to her. There were nine circles decorating it, begging from the centre and moving outward, each circle had strange markings running along them. If not for the blood spatters spread over it, the shield would have been an object of great beauty.
Rhea looked at the man who held her, where there was once a head, was now only a bloody neck. She screamed as hard as she could, pushing away the headless torso that still had a dead grip on her. When her eyes met the head of the man lying on the ground with his gaze set on her, she was on the verge of throwing up.
“NO!” the other man cried and drove his sword through Dardanu’s chest and then yanked it off.
That’s when Nurmitor threw his sword at him, piercing the last man’s head and sending him dead to the ground.
“DARDANUS!” Rhea ran for him, grapping him before he collapsed to the ground. She held him warmly at her embrace, rivers of tears running down her cheek. “Please don’t die, please.”
“Rhea…y-you have to f-find him.”
“She found me son.”
Rhea looked up; she could see vaguely his figure standing in the dark. Then he stepped out of the shadows, revealing a man of normal height clothed only in a loincloth and a sword that hang from his waist. He had lean muscles and broad shoulders, and a skin of dark brown color; which was not tanned by the days spent under the sun, but was acquired by birth. He was unlike anyone she had set her eyes on.
He walked past her to the wall where the shield was attached to. With one strong pull he jerked it off the wall. “The pain of not knowing where she is, what she looks like, or not knowing even her name is as wrenching as the one you’re having now. So I will ask you this only one time, do you know her name.”
“I know her name,” Rhea responded.
“Then take me to your leader,” he looked at her, his stare bathing in the glooms of his red horsehair crested golden helmet. “Tell him that the Son of Ares is ready to aid you.”
Story continues in chapter two
Publication Date: 07-13-2009
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