“Who are you?”
Helena stood rooted to the ground. The question was a deep growl that sounded like the grunt of an animal.
Her lack of response caused the men to look at one another before one of them finally moved to approach her. Survival instincts suddenly caused her to take a step, two steps backward. She almost stumbled but soon she turned around and started to run but she had one gone a short distance before one of the men caught her hand and whirled her around. She struggled against his iron clamp on her wrist but soon realized that struggling was useless since it only hurt her the more. Her wrist was red and she feared it might be bruised. Seeing that there was no escape for her she turned her face away from the men, her heart beating heavily in her chest.
“You’re hurting the woman,” someone said. Helena wanted to look. Much as she was scared of what the men would do to her she was still fascinated by the look of them.
She was no fool though, she knew what happened when mortal men surrounded a woman so she pushed her fascination aside and pulled her wits about her.
“Well, I simply need to know who she is,” the man holding her responded. He released her hand a bit and walked around her. Helena sneaked a look at him and looked quickly away.
The man laughed. “Why do you look like a scared rabbit?”
This time Helena glared at him. She was anything but scared and the one thing she hated was being referred to as scared or weak.
“I am not scared!” she spat surprised at herself for speaking the language fluently.
“So you have a mouth and voice?” the man said with humor in his voice. “ And you speak our language too so what are you? A spy? A Poulos?” His voice was firmer this time.
At the word Poulos which was the Eyrotian word for prostitute she yanked her hand free of his and slapped him hard across the face. His only reaction to the blow was to rub his smooth face before grabbing her hand roughly this time.
The other men began to hail him and chant. Some even encouraged him to rip her clothes off her and have his way with her. Some asked that he share her with them. Helena felt sick to her stomach at the thought that she would become an object of amusement to them. In all, there were six men. She began to shudder as the chant got louder. Just when she thought things were about to get worse a deep, commanding voice spoke.
“That is enough.”
At once the chanting came to a stop and deafening silence reigned.
Tempted by the thought that someone would have such authority over these raucous men Helena looked. At first, she saw nothing different, then from the side of the vessel a tall dark figure vaulted unto the hot sand. When he straightened to his full height Helena’s breath left her in a rush. He towered over all the equally tall men. Robos was a tall being, huge and muscular but the build of this man put Robos’ to shame. His shoulders were so broad it was she wondered if he could fit the water vessel across his shoulders, as he took steps towards them his thigh muscles flexed drawing her eyes to them. Unconsciously her mouth water at his gait.
Embarrassed Helena looked away sharply. What kind of effect was this? How should she feel like this? She never felt this way about a man’s body before not even Robos’. True she appreciated Robos’ strength, his height, his beauty but this tall, dark, handsome stranger made her feel something different.
Once he was close enough she took a step back to accommodate his size and the man who had been holding her did the same. She expected this new stranger to reprimand her for slapping his comrade instead he turned towards the man and hit him hard across the chest that the man stumbled.
“Is this how you treat your wife, Banjo?” he asked in that deep sultry baritone that sent shivers down Helena’s spine. “Do you not know she is a woman?”
At this Helena rolled her eyes. Was he trying to be a knight here?
With her hands on her waist, she faced him.
“I can handle myself very well, sir, thank you very much.”
He turned to her and once again her breath left her. If she thought he was beautiful before she was sadly mistaken. His eyes were a storm, grey- almost white with an unfathomable depth in them. They twinkled with humor and a corner of his lips turned up when he said,
“And I appreciate a woman who can hold her own.”
Though it was a compliment her feminine pride argued that he was trying to insult her. She searched her brain for something smart to say but came up empty.
The man muttered something under his breath and with his smile still in place looked beyond her to the south.
“But you are very far away from the village even if you were one of us – which you are not.” He looked back at her with a raised brow. “Are a merchant? Or perhaps the daughter of one?”
“The daughter,” Helena said quickly. Her brain was too clouded to think properly.
With a nod, the man turned back to his men.
“Unless you are willing to go alone I’ll advise that you wait here until my men and I are done so we can take you back to the village.”
All reasonable thought told her to leave and find her way out of here but this strange man and his even stranger eyes held her rooted until she found the idea of having him escort her back to wherever too tempting to refuse.
With a slight nod, she replied,
"I'll wait." Not wanting to sound like she was the Poulus the men thought her to be she added, "because this world can sometimes be a dangerous place for a woman."
She didn't miss the smile of the handsome stranger.
Helena sat on the sand oblivious to the sweat that dropped from her forehead to her white tunic. She watched while the men worked and as she watched she questioned her decision to wait for the men to finish with what they were doing. What had possessed her to spend more time with them? Was it simply the novelty of meeting people who were so different from the Camelornians or was it the handsome stranger who made her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling? More than once he cast glances her way as though checking to see if she was still there and every time he did that she went weak in the knees. She was grateful to be sitting as she was, it wouldn’t do to let him know that he made her feel dizzy and feminine and foolish. What was it about him anyway, she thought in annoyance.Demeus directed the men on their work. Since the previous night they had sailed into the ocean to fish and to gather salt, the white crystals, from the shore to take back to the village. He cou
Helena once again began the question her decision to follow the men. The son was scorching and her skin itched, the hair on her forehead was wet and many times she had to move it from her face. Sweat poured down her chest and armpits wetting her clothes. She considered finding an excuse to leave the men so she could go back to Mount Kpamos but how was she to do that? Her sight was getting blurry and her head was getting some light she feared she would faint. Contrary to what she felt the men moved on like they could not feel the scorch of the sun and wind. They walked barefooted on the hot sand with quick steps that she was struggling to keep up with. Just when she thought she would faint from sheer exhaustion something cool was placed over her head and a hand was nudging something into hers. She looked up, craning her neck to have a better look, at the white-eyed man who nodded at her as an encouragement to take the canteen he was pressing in her palms. “It is cool
It amazed her that the people of the Eyrotian fisherman village did not treat her any different from them. According to what Ramus told her there were used to seeing merchants of various colors come to the village to trade for salt. The only special treatment she received was from the children who wanted to play with her hair. She let them braid her hair while the women worked all day until the sun began to set. As the sun was going down behind the clouds the smell of cooking filled the air. Spicy aromas filled the air making her mouth water. The men who had gone into their buildings to rest before came outside and sat in chairs made of cane. When the women were done cooking they brought the pots and bowls together and everyone say in a ring to eat. The harmony and communalism with which they lived were foreign to Helena. They dished food in every pot regardless of whose it was. Demeus selected a bowl for her and dished some spicy soup in it. She accepted it with a smile and
Demeus walked the length of the small man-made creek the fishermen used for their water source. Up until today he never had a reason to linger at that creek deep in thought but tonight he did have a reason and that reason was in form of a redheaded, hot-blooded woman that made the blood in his vein run hot. He sat at the bank of the creek with his back towards the village. Everyone was asleep by now and only the sound of the nocturnal insects pierced the night. Usually, he would make a quiet exit during the night whenever he was done assisting the fishermen but this night he didn’t want to leave. What was it about the free-spirited, fire-spitting Helena that made him feel like a young randy god again? For years he vowed never to be affected by any woman again since the one woman he loved gave herself to another god just before their wedding feast. That woman was the goddess of the waters, Oya, known for her full figure, beautiful smooth skin, and tall elegance. He had loved
The wave of teleporting faded slowly and once she could breathe again Helena made her way to her temple which was quiet and almost empty save from a few servants who she knew would be in their chambers or the temple of some other gods. She made her way to her room and realized that she was still holding the package Demeus had given her, heat suffused her cheeks at the thought of him. She started to open the package to see what he packed for her when she tensed. There was a change in the atmosphere. A god was coming. As fast as she could she hid the sack and concealed it with her powers. She had barely finished when the door to her chamber was blown open. Robos. He liked to make an entrance. He filled every corner of the entrance with his huge frame. She swallowed. She was scared of him but she was worried that he knew about her disappearance. “Helena, queen of the gods and the woman who has captured my heart,” he rumbled as he came close to he
Her happiness was short-lived. As soon as the race was over she leaned back in her seat to laugh over the sour defeat of the dragons but caught the sight of a familiar figure from the side of her eyes. It was the figure of Adna, the goddess of excess and as was natural to her, she held a jar of mead in one hand while the other dangled over the shoulder of a very beautiful male Aloni. Adna was a beautiful dark head goddess, willowy and tall but her elegance was destroyed by her love for the mead. She was laughing and staggering drunkenly. She caught sight of Helena and went over to meet her. The Aloni stood behind her as a show of submission as he bowed his head in Helena’s direction. “Your highness,” she spoke in a slur as she dipped to a drunken bow. “I never thought I would see you here Queen Helena.” She flicked something off the Aloni’s shoulder. “I am just coming from Robos’ temple where he…,” The Aloni must have pinched her as a warning because she jumped sligh
“Where are we walking to?” Demeus smiled at the sound of her voice. Some of her fierce spirits had returned since they started walking away from the ocean. He looked behind him and found her frowning at the horizon with impatience furrowing her brows. “You’ll see,” he called back at her. “I don’t want to see, Ramus, tell me where we are going or I swear by the gods I’ll turn around now and go back home.” His lips twitched. Was it bad that he liked her better when she was angry she talkative? Helena waited for a response and when none came doubled her steps and half-ran until she was walking side by side with him. “Well? You’re not trying to abduct me are you?” Demeus chuckled. Woe to the man who tried to abduct this woman, he would find himself either wanting to tie her mouth shut or kiss those lips. And he knew how much he wanted to do the latter which was why he tried avoiding her gaze. “I have a horse,” he said in re
They rode for hours before coming upon the main city of Eyrotia. And as expected it was crowded. At the center of the city was a high wall surrounding the king’s castle, the bricks were strong and the irons were used in barring the windows of the towers were painted black. Flags bearing the Eyrotian arms of the rising Phoenix blew in the wind. Soldiers stood with spears, swords and arrows on the towers overlooking the city. Helena drank in the sights of all of these. Around them, people moved about their business speaking loudly or whispering to one another. They were dressed in fur clothes while some were dressed in rich expensive-looking silks, cotton and amongst these were those who wore shabby raffia clothing. Soldiers on horses passed theirs, Demeus nodded to them as they passed. These were his people, the ones who worshipped him, they offered sacrifices to him for blessings and protection. It never ceased to amaze how easily he could walk among mere mortals and non of