ACHILLES: Soul of Her King ~ Kings of the Blood ~ Book 3
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“I am only here to keep you from getting us all reduced to ash,” Bain sighed, drinking his orange juice and staring at the clouds out the window.
Rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time, Lee grumbled, “I am well aware of why you are here and as I have said before, you didn’t have to come.”
Shaking his head and throwing another disapproving look at Lee, the tall, bald, normally silent one of their group, refused to respond, making the archer wonder why on earth he put up with any of his brothers.
“You put up with them because they are your brothers and you’d be lost without them.” He mumbled to himself, knowing full well that Bain had heard him and was once again choosing to be ambivalently silent.
Settling back into his seat, Achilles tried to relax and think of anything other than the fact that he had not been able to make contact with Juliette since leaving Roman’s mansion almost four hours ago. His only communication had been with the excavation crew he’d had his contacts on that side of the world round up and at last call they had just arrived at the site. With at least thirteen hours more in the air until they reached Mumbai and then another four over treacherous terrain by jeep to reach Juliette’s dig site, the archer was about to lose what little was left of his mind.
Listening to the whir of the engines of Viktor’s private jet, Lee let his mind wander, thinking about the first time he’d ever heard the term, fýlakas tis kardís mou and understood what it truly meant to him…
Achilles pushed through the earth and sand, unaware of his surroundings. The burn in his lungs unbearable as the need to take his first breath drove his every action. Bursting into the abrasive night air, his rear end hit the sand as he gulped in the beautifully fresh, clean air.
Looking at the night sky for several long minutes, the archer jumped to his feet as the true gravity of his present situation came bursting into his mind. Running first one way and then another, he stopped dead in his tracks as a chuckled, “Do you always run naked through the desert, Achilles? I thought I had taught you better than that?” Reached his ears.
“General?”
Stepping forward into the light of the crescent moon, Romanus nodded, “Yes, Achilles, it is I. Now, come, cover yourself. We have much to discuss.”
Covering himself with one hand while cautiously making his way towards what appeared to be his long-dead General, the archer snatched the tunic, pulled it over his head and took two quick steps backward. Watching Romanus, he asked, “I was not dreaming? You are not a mirage?”
His mentor stepped forward, stood with his feet shoulder width apart and put his hands behind his back just as Achilles had seen the General do so many times before then with his usual tone of authority stated, “I am as you always knew me, Romanus of Athens, General of the mighty Grecian army and the man who saved you from certain death.”
Looking for any sign of subterfuge, the archer asked, “If you are as you appear to be, how many arrows did I break on my first attempt at the bow?”
Smiling like a proud father, Romanus answered straight away, “None.”
“And when asked to shoot a dove and a raven what did I come back with?”
“Two ravens,” the General shook his head. “You told me that doves were a sign of peace and your blessed mother’s favorite animal and that I could whip the skin from your hide but you would never willingly kill a dove.” Romanus took a step forward. “It was then I knew you had the makings of not only a great archer but also a leader of high esteem.” A sad look crossed the General’s face then he added, “I am only sorry I missed that part of your illustrious career.”
It was getting harder and harder to deny that the man, ghost, specter, whatever it was standing before him was not the man Achilles had thought of as his surrogate father since the first day they met. Needing one more bit of proof, the archer asked, “Where did we bury the bodies of my mother and my sisters after…” He took a deep breath, anger still raging through him at their cruel deaths even after the passage of so much time. “After the Persian scum brutally murdered them?”
Bowing his head, as he had always done when they discussed Achilles’ family, Romanus answered in a low, reverent tone, “We did not bury them. Your beloved family was burnt on a funeral pyre to prevent the final resting place of their mortal bodies from being disturbed by vagabonds.” The General raised his head, took a step forward and added, “You were the bravest child I had ever seen. Never shedding a tear, demanding to collect all the wood for the fire yourself and finally, taking the flame to the wood while offering a prayer to the gods for the safe delivery of their souls to the afterlife.”
Holding back the tears, Achilles gave a single nod and whispered, “It is good to see you again, my General.”
Many hours were spent explaining what Romanus and on very few occasions, Viktoras, called his ‘new life’. It was incredibly confusing and more than a little disturbing to think he would need another’s life essence to survive but his General had been very specific and did not falter as he explained the minute amount the archer would need to remain alive and that the donor was to be willing and unharmed. The longer he listened, the more honored Achilles felt. His General, the one man he truly held in high regard, had chosen him to be one of Zeus’ mighty warriors.
After his first taste of blood, Romanus had taken him out into the night. They had walked for miles, the General explaining that his renewed body needed to be exercised, his muscles stretched and his heart and lungs made to work to their full capacity. It wasn’t long before they reached a rare patch of desert grass with a tall petrified tree casting a shadow in the sand.
Motioning for Achilles to follow, Romanus took a seat on the stiff, brown lawn and began to speak. “In his infinite wisdom, the father of the gods knew that no man can live an eternity alone, especially one who must face the rigors of a life such as ours. So, for each King of the Blood, he created a mate, your fýlakas tis kardiás mou, the keeper of your heart. This woman, above all others, will captivate your soul from the moment of her birth. She, and she alone, will have the power to save your doomed soul and breathe life anew into your heart that until the moment she appeared on this earth, had felt cold and barren. Her light will brighten even the darkest corners of your soul. There will be nothing you can hide from her or her from you. Together, you will create one perfect being, the strength to one another’s weaknesses and the answer to one another’s unspoken prayers. She will be a blessing unlike any other you have ever received but you must heed my words, Achilles, follow them to the letter less you be struck down by Zeus’ lightning and your ashes strewn to the four corners of the Universe.”
The archer leaned closer, hanging on every word from his mentor’s mouth. His heart beat like the drum in the coliseum and sweat rolled down his spine like the great River Nile as he waited for what was to come. When Romanus finally continued, it was with conviction and power that can only come from absolute faith. “No matter how much your heart may pull you to her and your soul cry out for what only the keeper of your heart can give you, it is imperative that you wait for her to come to you, to recognize you as the other half of her soul, on this, the King of the Gods is unbending. Your fýlakas tis kardiás mou’s heart and soul will lead her to you when, and only when, the time is right. It will then be your responsibility to indoctrinate her in the ways of our kind and prepare her to become immortal, so that she may stand by your side throughout all time.”
The General smiled and patted the archer on the shoulder before adding, “The mating must be completed before nightfall of your three thousandth year or you will cease to exist. You will return to the ether from whence you came, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. You will enter the Elysian Fields and live a hero’s afterlife.”
Romanus stood, “But I have no doubt the keeper of your heart will come long before three millennia have passed and together you will leave a legacy blessed by the Pantheon.”
Jumping to his feet, emotion unlike any other he’d ever felt filled his soul to overflowing, Achilles, in an uncharacteristic gesture, hugged his General and whispered, “I shall live every day of my life to make you proud for choosing me to this blessed life. Thank you, sir.”
Pulling back, the General chuckled, “See that you do, Achilles. See that you do.”
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