"Not blind, Majesty," the eldest wisewoman said as she stepped forward, through the crowd. Her white robes were heavily embroidered with gold threads, and she wore an ornate gold wreath over her faded gray hair. "He was sent to you by the gods."
The king narrowed his eyes angrily at the queen. "You were unfaithful?" he accused Aara.
"Nay, never."
"Then how is it he came from your loins? All of us here witnessed it."
The room as a whole looked to the wisewoman, who stared blankly at the tiny, helpless baby crying for someone to hold him and offer him solace. Warmth.
"He will be a destroyer, this child," she said, her ancient voice loud and ringing so that all could hear her proclamation. "His touch will bring death to many. Not even the gods themselves will be safe from his wrath."
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"Then kill him now." The king ordered his guard to draw his sword and slay the baby.
"Nay!" the wisewoman said, halting the guard before he could carry out the king's will. "Kill this infant and your son dies as well, Majesty. Their life forces are combined. 'Tis the will of the gods that you should raise him to manhood."
The baby sobbed, not understanding the fear he sensed from those around him. All he wanted was to be held as his brother was being held. For someone to cuddle him and tell him that all would be fine.
"I will not raise a monster," the king said.
"You have no choice." The wisewoman took the baby from the midwife and offered it to the queen. "He was born of your body, Majesty. He is your son."
The baby squalled even louder, reaching again for his mother. She cringed away from him, clutching her second-born even tighter than before. "I will not suckle it. I will not touch it. Get it away from my sight."
The wisewoman took the child to his father. "And what of you, Majesty? Will you not acknowledge him?"
"Never. That child is no son of mine."
The wisewoman took a deep breath and presented the infant to the room. Her grip was loose, with no love or compassion evident in her touch.
"Then he will be called Acheron for the river of woe. Like the river of the underworld, his journey shall be dark, long, and enduring. He will be able to give life and to take it. He will walk through his life alone and abandoned—ever seeking kindness and ever finding cruelty."
The wisewoman looked down at the infant in her hands and uttered the simple truth that would haunt the boy for the rest of his existence. "May the gods have mercy on you, little one. No one else ever will."
MOUNTOLYMPUS
As Ash approached Artemis's sacred temple, he opened the oversized double doors with his thoughts.
With his head held high, he gripped the padded strap of his black suede backpack and forced himself to walk through the ornate, gilded doorway into Artemis's throne room where she sat listening to one of her women play a lute and sing.
Nine pairs of feminine eyes turned to stare at him curiously.
Without being told, her eight attendants gathered their things and rushed from the room as they always did at his appearance. They shut the door discreetly behind them and left him alone with Artemis.
Vaguely, Ash remembered the first time he'd been allowed inside Artemis's private domain onOlympus .
As a young man he had been awed by the intricately carved marble columns that framed the throne room. They rose twenty feet from the marble and gold floor under his feet up to the domed gold roof that was intricately embossed with wildlife scenes. Three sides of this room had no walls. Instead, it looked out over the perfect sky where white, fluffy clouds floated by at eye level.
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) The throne itself wasn't as ornate as it was comfortable. More an oversized chaise longue that could easily double as a bed, it occupied the center of the open room and was covered with lush, decadent ivory pillows with gold tassels and trim.
Only two men had ever been allowed to set foot inside this temple. Artemis's twin brother Apollo and him.
It was an honor Ash would gladly have ceded.
Artemis was dressed in a sheer white peplos that left her lithe body all but bare to his gaze. The dark pink tips of her breasts were hard and puckered against the gauzy material, and the hem of it rose high on her legs, showing him a glimpse of the dark auburn triangle at the juncture of her thighs.
She smiled seductively at him, bringing his attention back to her perfect, beautiful face. Her long, auburn curls seemed as iridescent as her green eyes while she watched him with fascinated interest. She lay on her side, her arms folded over the high back of the chaise and her chin resting on the back of her hand.
Taking a deep breath, Ash closed the distance between them and stood before her.