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 went to sit at one side of the ring where a woman was beckoning to her. The woman, a tall dark figure with thick dark curly hair done in braids made some space for her to sit. She smiled at her.
“Welcome to our humble village,” the woman said in greeting to her.
Helena smiled and returned the greeting. She took a bit of the soup and scalded her tongue because of the hotness. The woman laughed lightly and explained that she was supposed to blow on the surface of the soup first before eating from it. Helena followed her instructions and savored the delicious taste of the meal. It contained a lot of spice and flavors, none of which she had ever tasted.
“I am Likia, Banjo’s wife. I must apologize for my husband’s behavior, the men spoke about it when they came in.”
Helena nodded. “There is nothing to apologize for. He did not cause me any harm. He,” she nodded to where Demeus sat with his bowl, “stopped him before he could cause me any harm.”
A small smile lifted Likia’s full lips. “Ramus? He is a strange one. No one really understands him. He comes and goes whenever he likes but he is a good man.” She leaned in. “You are a merchant’s daughter.”
Helena raised her brow.
“The men talk too much. They say you want to explore Eyrotia. It can be a very difficult thing to do seeing as you are a beautiful woman who is alone. You will need a protector.”
Automatically, Helena’s eyes went to where he sat again. He was laughing at something his men said, he looked relaxed and his white teeth caught the light of the fire that blazed in their midst. Even in his unguarded state, he was still the most handsome man she has ever seen.
“You like him.” It was a statement, not a question still Helena thought it better to argue the obvious.
“No, I do not.”
Likia laughed loud and long. Helena was grateful that the others were too busy eating and talking to pay them any attention.
“Helena, no woman stares at a man the way you do unless she fancies him.” She leaned in closer. “Likewise no man stares at a woman unless he is fascinated by her.” She nodded in the direction of Demeus again. This time when Helena looked in his direction her breath caught in her throat at the way he looked at her. Embarrassed, she looked away and stared at her toes.
“You are mistaken, Likia,” she said weakly.
Likia shrugged but to Helena’s gratitude she let the subject rest and they are in silence. Once they were done eating the little children cleared the bowls and pots but the men and women remained, telling stories and laughing. Through it all, Helena did her best not to glance at Demeus again for fear that she would catch him looking at her. She knew he glanced at her from time to time, she felt his eyes on her whenever he did and it gave her some sort of pleasure that she affected him as much as he did her.
By midnight some of the men were beginning to dose off. Their wives stood up and helped them to their buildings one by one until the only people left were Banjo, Likia, Demeus, and herself. Likia soon stood up and with a look that held silent communication held her hand to her husband who took it, announced that his body was weak from the day’s work, and they both left leaving Helena alone with Demeus.
Her heart began to beat so loud she feared he would hear in the silence of the night. The night was not so silent, muffled moans came from closed doors making the situation of things unbearable for Helena. The presence of Ramus across from her and the moans and groans from the closed doors made her blood run hot. If she could just run or turn the hands of time. How did she get herself in such a situation?
“Are you sleepy?” Demeus asked softly.
She was but she knew that there was nowhere she could sleep. The only room with one occupant was Ramus’ and she didn’t trust herself to share the room with him without stripping herself of her clothes and baring herself to him.
When she refused to answer Demeus stood up and walked to where she sat. He knew what she and Likia had talked about. Curse the woman and her insight! If he did not know better he would swear that she was a seer or a goddess. This was not her first attempt at matchmaking him with someone but this time she was right, he was fascinated by Helena. He longed to touch the braids which the children made with her hair but he didn’t want to scare her.
“You can have my hut if you want to.”
“Where will you sleep?” Helena asked. She was proud of the firmness of her voice.
“I don’t suppose you will let me share the room with you?”
When she replied him with a withering glance he laughed.
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle a cold night.”
He stood up. “Come,” he said in that sinful baritone of his that made her want to do equally sinful things with him. She stood and let him lead her to the hut.
At the door of it, he stepped aside and let her go in but before she closed the door he said.
“Maybe tomorrow I can help you with your mission to know more about Eyrotia?”
She nodded. “That will be nice. Likia told me I would need a protector for that.” And she also said other things that Helena would not admit to.
“She is right.” He stepped away from the door and with a hand on his muscular chest bowed slightly. “Till tomorrow, Helena.”
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
Helena watched in a daze as Demeus spoke to the woman in hushed tones. Her palms grew wet and clammy and she could swear that sweat was pouring from her forehead causing her hair to plaster itself against her skin. The innkeeper glanced in her direction once and nodded then turned back to Demeus. She watched as the innkeeper pocketed the coins Demeus had dropped on the table and took a key from the board behind her. She handed the key to Demeus and tilted her head in the direction of the stairs leading to the rooms. “The rooms are up there,” she said in Eyrotian language. Helena feared that her heartbeat would be heard because it was so loud she could practically hear the beat of blood in her ears. How was she to quietly tell him that she could not share a room with him, not just because she was married and had a child but because she couldn’t trust herself not to act on the strange attraction she felt towards this man. But he was a fisherman and fishermen were not w
“The dress is not tight, my lady, you’re wearing it the wrong way.” Helena raised an eyebrow at the maid the innkeeper had sent to help her dress. The maid came forward and unbuckled the hooks holding the dress up, she helped Helena locate where to put her hands then buckled it up for her. It was a dark red tunic that stopped at her sandaled feet, over the thick material was a veil of see-through silk that had blew gently in the wind. “You will need this.” The maid pulled a veil from the bundle of clothes Likia had sent to her. She pinned Helena’s hair up and attached the veil to it before wrapping round. “Have you done this before?” Helena asked. The maid giggled. “Yes, my lady, I have taken care of many merchants' daughters. They always love my services.” She brought the mirror from the dressing room and handed it to Helena. Helena gawked at the image she saw. The only time she had ever looked this good was during her wedding feast with Robos. The m
For the millionth time, Demeus squeezed his hands by his side. If the jeweler’s son’s hand touches Helena’s skin anymore under the guise of fastening a jewel piece on her neck or wrist he may be forced to throttle him. And the smile on Helena’s lips gritted his nerve. Why wasn’t she smiling at him like that? She only ever seemed to argue with him and when she wasn’t arguing she was silent and her silence was even worse than her arguments. But with this jeweler’s son, she seemed to be at ease and they were conversing smoothly. “Try this one on,” the jeweler said to her while holding up a nice piece of bracelet with ruby stones encrusted in the silver chain. The ruby stones were the same color as her hair. “This will look beautiful on you,” he said. Demeus had to agree with him. He could already envision the look of the bracelet on Helena’s pale skin. “Bring your hand, my lady, let me help you.” “Let me do it.” It was Demeus who spoke to the surprise of everyone since