Tangles and Temptation (27 page)

Aleka stretched her arms and gestured to the fields below. “You mean these plantations?”

Eris frowned. “Yes, unless there are more that you own.”

She shook her head. “You misunderstand. We do not own plantations.”

The beating of Eris’s heart picked up in pace. Confusion marred and creased deep lines on his forehead. She smiled in understanding. “You wonder at our food source and the ownership of those fields. One of the ills you mentioned earlier being unleashed by Epimetheus’s foolish opening of Pandora’s Box was evils. We have that in abundance, the root of all evil—
wealth
.” She gestured to the far-reaching hills and explained, “We possess overflowing coffers of gold mined from within those hills. We need not break the backs of our slaves while they bake in the sun planting our food. We simply purchase it from agora, marketplaces”—she pointed once again to the plantations Eris had been watching—“and from our neighbors. Those plantations belong not to us but the neighboring city.”

Eris frowned in consternation. “Is this common knowledge? Does the city of Sparta know this?” His heart pounded furiously as he awaited her answer and dropped like a ball of lead to his belly at her answer.

“Yes.” She stepped closer and inquired, “Would the creature still seek entrance to our city through a plantation not of our ownership?”

Eris shook his head and answered truthfully, “I do not know.” They turned as one and stared at the endless stretch of yellow and gold before them. Eris repeated beneath his breath, “I simply do not know.”

A shuffle from behind broke their contemplation. They both stared around them, but nothing stirred. Uncomfortably, Eris placed his finger to his lips and crept forward. He jumped back at a sudden voice. “I am sorry to disturb you, Eris, but the high priestess of the temples wishes to speak with you.”

Eris smiled. “Indeed. And what would she want of me, Kyra?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “She would not say, but she did urge you to make haste.”

Eris stepped forward. As he stalked past her, he whispered, “Pity you were not successful, my curious little sprite. Then you would simply tell me the news and save me the walk.”

Kyra watched him stride away with a smirk. Aleka laughed. “You simply cannot pry information out of the priestess Negara. She does not crack under pressure. But I must say, Kyra, you are immature in your eavesdropping. Just how much have your keen ears managed to hear?”

Kyra scowled. “I have only just arrived.” As Aleka raised a single eyebrow, she interjected with irritation, “Truly. But I will admit to trying to pry information of Negara. I wonder what she could possibly want with Eris.” She turned suddenly on her heels. “Your false accusations of eavesdropping inspire me. Aikaterina sees me well occupied, and I must see to my errands while I can.”

Aleka raised her eyebrows. “Princesses have no errands. Either you have reverted to her childhood fantasy, portraying a slave girl again, or”—she laughed as she called after Kyra’s fast-retreating figure—“you are off to snoop.”

SAGA Okt`o

The temple was not dark and shrouded in shadows as he had expected, being situated at the foot of a great mountain. It was light and airy instead. Another glaring difference was the distinct absence of gold. For a city rife in the precious metal, they obviously did not squander it on statues. Everything was bathed in soft lights of numerous torches. Everything held color. Stiff material, gauzy fabrics, and smooth stone were dyed and brushed with vibrant shades. As he stepped in, there was no whisper of his footsteps. This place, abundantly filled, allowed no echoes but also boasted plush carpeting, allowing no betrayal of his steps. He stared in wonder as he descended huge stairs. Everything here was rich and wonderfully textured. Everything but the person he sought here. Eris’s feet stumbled as he drew to a halt at the foot of the stairs.

The voice of the woman was equally brittle and grated against his teeth. “Step forward. I would see with my own eyes what has become of you.”

Eris scrunched his face. She had so many wrinkles it was unclear whether her skin was pale or dark. Her hair, snowy white but shimmered with silver as she moved, was pulled back into a severe knot. Eyes, watery yet keen, assessed him with hawklike precision. Her apparel did nothing to lighten her ghastly appearance. Heavy, dark folds of an overlarge robe of coarse fabric wrapped around her body, leaving her actual size difficult to guess at. He stood directly before her but could ascertain nothing. He could not see the true color of her hair and eyes except what age had transformed them into. He could not make out her size or height as she stooped before him. All he saw was age. Before he could hold in his curiosity, he asked, “How old are you?”

Sharp, brittle laughter sliced through the air and seemingly clear across his brain. She answered without humor, “Should the truth drip from these aged lips, your youthful ear would reject it as
ps`evdos
, falsehood.”

Eris tapped his foot in impatience. He had grave matters to see to, and now time was being wasted. His voice held no warmth. “What do you want of me?”

The wizened woman hobbled forward and peered at him closely. She ignored his question and stated, “You may call me Negara. I am high priestess of these temples.” She nodded, finally satisfied with her scrutiny of him, and lumbered away. Her body lowered painfully on a stiff, hard chair.

Eris wondered if she purposefully sought to make her hardship harder or if she was not in complete possession of her senses. Surely a soft cushion in such a richly decorated room should not be difficult to find. Yet she tortured her already-ravaged body by choosing such harsh seating. He sighed as her chair teetered precariously on its three legs. Surely Kyra would have given him some sort of warning were she not of sound mind. He waited.

“I have called you to see for myself the results of the fruit produced of my womb.”

The offhanded statement had Eris reeling. Either Kyra had thought it humorous to conceal this woman’s madness from him, or this woman concealed her madness from everyone, everyone else but him. He shouted angrily. “My parents…”

She interrupted him softly, “Left you and your twin in a basket at the gates guarding Argos.”

Eris stared at her, dumbstruck. He reminded himself that what she revealed was not something commonly known.

She tittered. “I had known you were destined for greatness, but you have far exceeded my most ardent expectations. The snake. A very gladiator of the House of Andromeda. I still find distrust in what is right before my eyes.”

Eris growled in disgust. “You expect me to believe I am of your womb? Was there a glimmer of truth in your outrageous words I would still deny it. Seek not to insult me or yourself any further.”

The old woman cackled. “Insult as you wish, but my heart is filled with such pride even a mountain would not crush it. Now tell me, Eris from Argos, serpent gladiator of the House of Andromeda, have you not lain awake enough nights pondering your birthright? I tell you now it was not in a basket outside the gates.”

Eris shook his head in disbelief. “Speak you mind, old woman, but for your own peace not mine. My birthright lies at Argos, the bosom that fed me, the hand that tutored me.”

Negara nodded. “Then I shall speak, and you may believe at you will.”

“It rained long and hard the night I left the basket containing you and your brother at those gates. The skies had opened, showering down its blessing of the Gods. Shelter was nowhere to be found. I had to make do with a useless covering, a simple blanket, one that I wove of my own hand. Whatever has happened to it, I wonder. It was of the color sky blue with dainty pictures of fluffy white…”

Eris filled in with a frown, “Snowflakes.”

Negara chuckled. “Ah, I see it exists still.”

Eris knew well it still existed. It was the only connection he had left to his parents, and he had guarded it well. He asked, his voice holding a note of curiosity rather than belief, “Why then did you do it, leave us at those gates?”

Her eyes blazed an unholy green beneath the watery sheen as she whispered, “My visions. I have had visions of your coming long before the fact. I had expected and accepted that I was naught but a vassal through which the Gods would see you entered into this world. But further then that they have provided for you themselves.” She leaned close and asked, “What has become of your brother?”

Eris grunted. “Why do you not tell me? You seem to be in possession of an inordinate amount of personal information.”

A toothless smile flashed briefly as the look in her eyes turned inwards. “I recall the hardship you both put me through in my pregnant state. One part of me longed for the basking sun while the other raged for the cooling shade beneath a ledge. I would surmise your brother to be the contrast to you, mayhap the scorpion.” Eris shrugged, not wanting to give her any further information. Negara imitated his shrug and continued, “As you wish. I shall know soon enough. I have waited a lifetime for word of you and am prepared to wait another for news of him. You must bear in mind, Eris, while I accepted the fact that you two could never be mine, I never lost hope that I would one day meet you again. The Gods play a cunning game, do they not? They have lured you back to your birthplace with aid of an enticing mate.”

Eris stiffened. “What do you know of Kyra?”

Negara cackled. “A whole lot more than you. Remember, she practically grew up beneath my bosom while my own children were wrenched from me, destined for something greater.”

She paused. “You think it was an easy task thrust upon my shoulders? It was never easy, and the ache in my heart never abated. My visions were clear. You would never have need of me beyond your birthing. Even the rich milk that flowed freely of my bosom could not nourish you. Both my sons rejected it in preference to the milk produced of the cow’s udder. You were born with need of no one. I see you live your life likewise.”

Uncertainty coursed through Eris in pulsing waves. He knew it was not logical, but as he listened to her, he began to believe her. She was in possession of astounding knowledge pertaining to his birth. What possible reward could she hope to gain from lies and deceit? His voice was low as he asked, “What of my father?”

“Ah. A splendid specimen of man, of Spartan origin most likely, or at least what I was able to discern in the darkness that shrouded us that night. He appeared, just as my vision warned he would, suddenly on a dark, starless night. He was large and strong and lusty in the feeding of his seed. His passion was unrelenting, boundless, demanding satisfaction just as he gave. That night he entered my room, me, silent and soundless. That night I cried my pleasures to the heavens. The morning arrived with him gone. That morning began the endless tears, tears that flow from a weak woman, a mother. That morning my cries of mourning began.” As she looked away, Eris caught the gleam of unshed tears in her eyes. She blinked and continued, “I knew my duty and did not dither in it. But oh, how my heart broke that night I traveled to Argos. How the knees screamed as I knelt upon the hard ground, begging the Gods for mercy. But they answered only with thunder, strikes of lightning, and more rain. Yes, Eris. I did my duty as the Gods decreed, yet that night I left behind a piece of my soul, within a woven basket, beneath a sky-blue blanket and stormy sky.”

Eris approached her silently. He stroked the fine hair tightly flattened against her scalp. His voice broke as he whispered, “I never found hatred in my heart for the parents who left me there. I found only gladness. I always knew I had been left in the place where I belonged. I was destined from birth for the life I now lead, the duty I am now entrusted with. I am Erpo, the snake, and I stand proud. I could have been nothing else.”

Negara touched his hand upon her head. “You bring my heart much relief. Your life was determined before even your birth. It was determined from the time the visions began. I have always wanted a chance to beg your forgiveness. The decision to leave you was never in my hands.”

Eris clutched her hand gently. “Forgiveness was given the day I thanked the Gods for having being left there. Not a day passed that I doubted that was where I belonged.”

Negara wept softly. “Our reuniting is brief. We have been kept apart for a reason. Whomever you come to care, or already care for, will eventually be used against you as weapon. It is enough that the Gods have been merciful and allowed you a single responsibility. Take care of Kyra. She stands now as a weapon against you.”

His hand clenched fiercely around hers. “Nothing shall hurt her while blood still flows through my veins.”

She whispered, “The time has come now for the fulfilling of your destiny, the final reward for this empty life I have endured.”

Eris nodded. “The beast roams the surrounding fields, sent from its unrelenting master Cronus. The bowels have spewed it forth, and I shall face it and reward your struggles with my hand raised in victory.”

Negara squinted through the veil of tears that shimmered like the morning dew in her eyes. “You have visions of your battle, of your victory?”

Shaking his head, Eris muttered, “I have had but one dream. By all accounts I would pray that is not the truth.”

The older woman’s eyes grew round with fear. “You must trust your vision.”

He shook his head once. “The vision sees me dead.”

Negara gasped. She reached. Her leathery hand stroked his cheek as she whispered, “You must keep your faith. You descend of these very lands. The value we hold dear, that we, the people of Pandora, would willing lay our lives on the line for—
Hope.
”
Her hand quivered as she pointed toward the darkened corner. Atop a four-legged seat rested the legendary Pandora’s Box. Eris gasped as he stared at the gold-lined structure in disbelief. Negara continued. “Hope stirs in your very blood. Embrace it and see your vision with more clarity.”

Eris moved away. He scrutinized the holy relic in wonder. “Perhaps you are right in your words and Hope courses through my veins, for I have seen the accuracy of my visions, yet I continue to stand firm. Hope…is all I have left.”