Tangles and Temptation (24 page)

* * * *

Kyra stood where she knew she would be well concealed. She had spent an inordinate amount of time going through the chamber that was supposedly hers. But rummaging through her drawers and personal belongs had revived no memories. All she had accomplished was increasing her level of frustration and despair. Nothing in this place seemed even vaguely familiar. No person evoked even a glimmer of recognition within her. The slave girls had been friendly, eager to please and assist. But their responses gave no clues about her past other than she was a princess. In fact, the more time she spent with them, the more irritable she had become. They stared at her as though she was completely unlike the person they knew her to be. This depressed her. She did not know what characteristics she had possessed before. There was hesitation before every word, every act, every thought. She did not know
who
she was. While it had not bothered her overmuch before, it did now. Being exposed to people who knew her intimately shook her fragile belief. She had believed that this was her true persona.

She scowled and turned her attention once again to the delightful view before her. Her body was carefully angled away from the striking sun, thereby casting her shadow behind her and away from detection. She was well hidden beneath the huge seats of the arena. Only her eyes peered through the narrow gap, steadfastly focused on the magnificent specimen of a man training vigorously. She envied the rays of the sun, touching and caressing him without his objection. She felt jealousy for the scythe he masterfully maneuvered, his large, powerful hands wrapped mightily around the handles. She even envied the ground. The dust flew up and covered him, coating him, molding him. All these things could do with him as they pleased, all except her. She he kept stubbornly at arm’s length. His deliberate avoidance of her had not changed with these new circumstances. She jerked as a voice whispered beside her.

“I thought I might find you here. You may not realize it, but this has always been your favorite hiding place.” The older woman beside her peered through the gap and tittered. “Admittedly the view has improved somewhat.”

Kyra stared. “Who are you?”

The woman’s smile was gentle, without judgment. “I am the only woman who could have known to find you here. I am Alta, your mother, Kyra.”

Kyra’s eyes widened as the woman engulfed her in warm hug. She stammered uneasily, “I am afraid I don’t remember.”

Alta drew back and hushed her. “Do not explain. I am aware you do not recall your past. I take no offense.”

“But you are my mother. How could you not take offense at your daughter having no recollection of you?”

Raising a single brow, she answered curtly, “It does not make you any less my daughter.” Before Kyra could respond, she rushed on. “Now, I have sought you out to inform you I have missed you greatly, and I am extremely relieved to see you well and hale. I also think perhaps I could tell you more about your past and hopefully inspire your memories to be resurrected somewhat.”

Kyra nodded mutely. “You have a sister and seven brothers.” As Kyra stared at her in disbelief, she giggled lightly. “No, they are not all mine. Your father had two wives. His first wife bore him a daughter and four sons, I a daughter and three.” She shook her head. “But I believe that is too much for you to contemplate so soon. I shall instead tell you a little about
you
.”

She brushed a patch clean and lowered herself on the wooden structure holding the seating up. At the sound of a deep purr, she leaned down and withdrew the small creature circling her ankles. “Firstly meet Kalypso, your cat.”

Kyra accepted the rumbling bundle and stroked it. She studied the furry creature closely and frowned. “Kalypso? But this cat appears to be a boy.”

Her mother pursed her lips. “Well, you were a rather opinionated and contrary child. Now, let me explain. While all other children envisioned themselves to be princesses, you were already that. Therefore, for some unexplained reason, until you reached the age of seven, you pretended to be a slave girl.”

Kyra gasped. “A slave girl? Whyever did I do that?”

Alta shrugged. “Thankfully that stage did not last overlong. You used to lurk around the dark corners awaiting orders to be given. Thereafter you would prance forward and insist on performing the tasks yourself. But as I said, much to the slaves’ disappointment, you changed. Until the age of approximately nine, you envisioned yourself a cat.”

Kyra stiffened. “
A cat.
”

The older woman chuckled. “Quite right my dear. You meowed in response when spoken to, purred when content, and hissed and shrieked, even scratched, when angered. I can tell you, you were a thorough menace, always crawling about on all fours and rubbing yourself against people’s legs. Thankfully everyone was quick to dismiss your rather odd behavior. As I recall, on more than one occasion I heard mention of you being the most adorable kitty.”

Kyra shook her head. Was her mind already foraging its own path leading to this great event, when it would get lost completely?

“Thereafter you thoroughly believed yourself to be a man.”

Kyra shouted as loud as she dared without giving their hiding places away, “
A man!
I do not believe that.”

Alta laughed. “Oh. It is the absolute truth, dear. Fortunately you began to menstruate at the tender age of thirteen, and that was the end of that.”

Kyra stared at her mother, stunned. “Was I a complete lunatic?”

Her mother touched her arm gently as she replied, “On the contrary, Kyra, you were a child of great imagination and grew into a woman of far-reaching foresight.”

Kyra moved away from the touch. She did not believe she could have turned out all so grand after such a shaky upbringing. Why, she sound positively confused. It was no wonder the slave girls had stared at her. They were probably wondering when she would begin to crawl and meow, or perhaps stomp about like a man.

Alta spoke softly, “Kyra, I cannot tell you how fortunate we were that we allowed you freedom in your peculiarities. It allowed your imagination the space it needed to grow, and in turn it inspired within you a remarkable ability. You could see so much further than other people.”

Kyra wrinkled her nose. “I cannot predict the future.”

“That is not what I meant at all. You possessed the ability to envision scenarios much more clearly than anyone else. As a child, whenever you plotted a bit of mischief, you were able to envision every possible way of getting caught, and avoided them all. The only way we ever managed get to the truth was due to your honest character. Your poor sister would always get caught, and you would confess your part in the entire plot.” Alta leaned back and sighed. “As a grown woman, your strange gift became an asset. You could listen to simple words and transform them into accurate pictures in your mind. It was not long before even your father began to consult with you before embarking on a journey, and especially on a battle. You could always picture his stratagem, as he would carefully relay his plans, and you never failed to spot the holes in it.”

Alta stood slowly. She whispered as she moved away, “You are a true treasure to us. While your sister possesses the strength of leadership, you possess the backbone of foresight. Never doubt you are loved dearly, Kyra.”

Kyra watched in silence as the woman retreated. Her features brightened as she contemplated all she had learned. Somehow she felt much better, lighter, which was remarkable considering she had just heard tales about herself that should have disturbed her greatly. But she chose to view the information in a positive light. If her family had accepted her when she had once been so peculiar and odd, they would not desert her now. She sighed. Her mother was a wise woman. She had the gift of a healing tongue and great understanding. She had disclosed her childhood history for a reason. Nothing else would have succeeded in making her feel less inept right now, more accepted. She settled down and watched Eris with a smile on her face, a smile bright with hope. Surely difficulties could be overcome. She had to persevere.

* * * *

Eris found his concentration lacking as he swiped his scythe across the air. He had not spent time in perusing the palace or the immediate surroundings. There was an excess of restless energy within him. Unanswered questions and nagging doubts hammered at his exhausted brain. The most immediate, most distressing was, who was the father of Kyra’s child? He slashed his weapon forward in frustration. But unlike the quick whiz of disturbed air, the turmoil within him refused to dissipate.

As he swung around and brought down the slicing blade viciously in an arc formation, he froze. His blade stopped a hair’s breadth away from his uninvited visitor. Her eyes grew round and too large for her small face. Eris dropped his weapon immediately to his side. “You should never creep up on a person who possesses a sharp object in hand, Aikaterina.”

She drew back at his sharp tone. Her bottom lip trembled, but she jutted it out defiantly. “I greeted first as Mama taught me, but you did not hear.”

Eris rolled his shoulders, trying to alleviate the strain, but it was difficult with the object of his distress standing before him, a blatant reminder with her clear gray eyes and glossy, golden locks. She looked so much like Kyra it hurt his eyes. He turned away and continued with his half-hearted training. Perhaps she would take the subtle hint and leave. He did not have it within him to chase her away.

“What is that weapon you are using? I do not believe I have seen it before.”

Eris sighed as the tiny voice inquired. He should have known she would not be so easily dismissed. She was the walking image of her mother. Why should he expect her mind and tongue to differ? He held the weapon out, carefully keeping the deadly edge pointed harmlessly to the ground for her perusal. “This is called a scythe. It is not an uncommon tool. Perhaps you have come across it in the plantations. It is used there mainly for the felling of wheat and barley.”

Aikaterina nodded and reached out reverently to touch the smooth, hot metal. The curiosity of her five-year-old mind was not satisfied, and she inquired, “Are these stems so ferocious that you train so ardently to fell them, then?”

Bursting into laughter, he shook his head. She was yet young to know about plantations, or battles for that matter. He answered in mirth, “No, Aikaterina. The stems are no ferocious. However, they do require a fair bit of muscle.”

She nodded again and planted her hands firmly on her hips. Her demand reminded him acutely of Kyra. “You will tutor me in its use. It grows tiresome playing girl games all day long.”

Eris bit on his lower lip hard to keep his laughter from spilling forth. He rolled his eyes and inquired, “And what would you rather be doing, toiling in the gardens or pattering in the kitchen with the grown women?”

Her answer saw his amusement betrayed, and laughter spewed once again from his lips. She said in an earnest voice, “When I am tired of pretending to be a ewe, nibbling on juicy grass, I would prefer to join the battle ranks as the men do.”

There was simply no response that Eris could come up with. Either they fed the children here something rather unique to inspire such imaginations, or these beautiful men he had noticed all around him produced odd seeds. He frowned. He wondered again which of these prancing peacocks was her father. He quickly sought distraction. “Come. I shall show you.”

He directed her to the correct stance first. When she imitated his stance correctly, feet slightly apart and knees gently bent, he placed the weapon in her awaiting hands. It tumbled from her tiny hands and fell to the ground with a loud plop. Aikaterina scowled at it, offended. Eris smiled gently. “It would appear this weapon is with fault. Shall we go in search of one that is less bothersome?”

Aikaterina brightened immediately and bobbed her head in approval. She gave the weapon upon the ground a superior look down the length of her nose and exclaimed, “We shall find a more obedient weapon.”

As Eris held out his hand and led her from the arena, she mumbled, “You are rather good.”

He straightened with pride. “Thank you, kind Aikaterina. The Gods appeared to have agreed with you as well.”

She stopped in her tracks and whispered in disbelief, “You taught them as well?”

Eris blinked at her. Somehow he had lost the plot. Suddenly he realized his mistake. He had thought her compliment focused on his battle skills, but she had meant something else all together. She was referring to his skill as a
tutor
. He frowned. He had never been accused of that before.

She misinterpreted his frown and added quickly, seeking to make amends. “You may call me ‘Kat.’ All my friends do.”

Eris smiled. Despite the fact that she seemed to converse on an entirely different plane than him, she was a delightful and extremely entertaining handful. He could not help but like her immensely. “And you may call me Eris.” He added with a wicked wink, “All
my
friends do.”

* * * *

Kyra leaned forward as the little girl stepped into the arena. Her heart had almost stopped beating when Eris had turned the weapon on her. But then she relaxed as she watched them converse. She studied the little girl. She could find no recollection of her. A smile lingered on her lips as she watched them together, a giant oak and a mere sapling. Although she could not hear a word of their conversation, she found Eris’s handling of the tiny child endearing. He seemed to truly enjoy the little girl’s company. Little things gave away his genuine interest, the way he angled his head lower to listen, the manner in which he stopped and paid her his full attention, and the wholehearted laughter that bellowed unreservedly from deep within his chest. Kyra tilted her head and studied his features closely. For a great, magnificent warrior, he now appeared softer, gentler. And he seemed to make the most unexpected of friends. He befriended enemies on the battlefield as he had done with Thyone and now a little girl he had just met. His character was truly diverse and very uncommon.