HOUSE OF THE RISING SON
July 20, 12,252 BC
“How do they look?”
The daeve demon, Caleb Malphas, turned away from the sparring soldiers at the delicate, emotionless voice of the goddess he served. As was her wont, she’d appeared silently and suddenly behind him – something that was always disconcerting to a warrior who didn’t like anyone or anything at his back.
With long, dark brown hair, flawless skin, and vivid greenish-gold eyes, Bathymaas was exquisitely beautiful, but as cold-blooded as any creature he’d ever known. The embodiment of justice, she wasn’t supposed to have any type of emotion or feeling.…
And she didn’t. However, she was as kind as she was ruthless, and fair beyond his comprehension.
Malphas glanced back at the four soldiers who were training in the large arena in front of him. “Not bad. They might actually survive a few battles.”
His dark humor was lost on a goddess who had no understanding of it. Luckily, she didn’t get sarcasm, either, therefore she never took offense to his. It made serving her a lot less painful for him, and it was the primary reason he’d agreed to help her assemble her team of elite protectors who would be charged with keeping her peoples safe.
She brushed a stray piece of hair back from her face. “We still need two more to represent the Atlanteans. Have you any suggestions?”
“There’s an Atlantean champion who’s been making a name for himself during games and festivals. Galenus of Didimosia. I was planning to test and then invite him to join our merry crew later today.”
“Have you seen him fight?”
Malphas nodded. “Two days ago. He beat back six larger opponents at one time, during an exhibition match. He is impressive, and given the way he savored the fight and victory, he should make a good addition to our group.”
“May I go with you?”
“Of course, my lady. I would be highly honored.”
Inclining her head to him, she walked away with a grace that would rival his own beloved Lilliana’s. That comparison made him involuntarily flinch as vivid memories surged to stab him with painful regrets. Unwilling to go there with his thoughts, Malphas returned to the men he was training to protect this fragile world from the very kind of tragedy he, himself, had gone through.
You should have been there, brother. It was incredible! They came at me like giant mountainous beasts, wanting only my blood and bones to eat, and I beat them back, single-handedly. When I won the fight… this incredible shout went up through the amphitheater like raucous thunder.” Cupping his hands around his mouth, Galenus demonstrated the sound.
Aricles smiled at his twin’s exuberance while Galenus went on to illustrate his expert sword skills that had won his tournament two days ago. “You know what would really impress me, Galen?”
His brother froze with a frown in the middle of his mock sword stroke. “What?”
“Help with laying down the fertilizer in my field.”
Galenus scoffed indignantly as he climbed up on the fence and grimaced. “How can you stand it here? I hate farming and tending animals and fields… You should come with me next time and participate in the games. Together we’d be invincible… and win enough money to make the king himself look like a pauper.”
Aricles paused to wipe the sweat from his brow with his forearm before he cut the cord on a fresh batch of manure. Unlike his brother, who was dressed in noble finery to rival a prince’s chiton and chlamys, he was shirtless with only a short brown breechcloth and worn leather shoes to cover him while he worked. Even so, sweat rolled down his back and plastered his short, reddish-brown hair to his head. “It’s not so bad here. Father needs the help.”
“Bah! He has plenty of servants for that. Why work us like dogs in the heat of summer? We were born to be better than this.”
Disagreeing completely, Aricles hoisted the barrel up on his shoulder to carry it to where he’d left off covering the plants. “There’s nothing wrong or undignified about a good day’s labor. You should try it sometime.”
“Says the man covered in cow shit.”
Aricles threw a handful of it at his brother. It landed in the middle of his chest, staining his stark white chiton.
“Ugh! That’s disgusting, Ari! I can’t believe you did that.”
Laughing, Aricles began spreading it around the sprouting plants. He’d never understand his brother’s love of or need for war. Personally, he hated conflict and fighting. He’d much rather create and build than kill and destroy. Conquest and battle games didn’t appeal to him in the slightest way. The only reason a man should ever pick up a sword was to protect those he loved, not to willfully take the life of someone else’s beloved.
Still sputtering in fury, Galenus stormed off.
“One day, Galen,” Aricles called after him, “you’re going to learn to love farming. I promise you!”
“Should that day ever come, I hope Misos spears my idiot head to the wall!” he shouted back as he went to wash, and change clothes.