Chapter 3
Draken stood outside of the Maker’s temple. It was an impressive building with its well proportions in design. There were six columns across the front and thirteen on either side, all Doric in design. The ancients who established Aradian society brought the temple designs with them when their souls crossed over from Earth. Every one of the temples were white, which was a feature that didn’t exist on the temples of ancient Greece. There also weren’t any scenes of ancient tales or battles carved in the triangular pediments either; the train of thought being that the history of Earth belonged on Earth. Aradia was a place separate from its sister world and had its own history. The stories from Earth belonged in books and nowhere else.
He looked around to see no one else was there. That wasn’t out of the ordinary. Hardly anyone ever went in this building except the ruler and his male family members. The Maker very rarely made appearances to the general public, in fact if memory served him right, only the male members of the 1st Ruling House have ever had a conversation with the deity.
His priestesses were the exception. They served the Maker and tended to the temple. They even had their own living quarters on the grounds dedicated to the Maker and the Great Mother not far from the designated ritual area. It was his hope to convince the Maker to allow Pagan to live among the priestesses and away from the rest of Aradian society, but to his surprise, the Maker had already decided to allow Pagan to stay and be protected within his household.
What was behind the change of heart? If He had intended for Pagan to be a member of his family, why not allow him to bring her with him fifteen years ago? It didn’t make sense and he doubted the deity was going to explain His reasoning. Draken learned a long time ago the Maker did what He wanted, when He wanted, and felt no obligation to explain His actions to anyone. He was a deity, their creator after all, and no one should ever question the fate handed him by such a being. With that being said, Draken still didn’t like a being having that much control over his life and his actions, but he had to accept it.
Draken opened the massive doors and stepped from the white columned portico inside the first receiving room. It was void of any furnishings except for the braziers that were lit with the sacred fires to purify any who entered. A priestess approached him and held out her hands. Draken removed his sword and placed it in her waiting arms.
“He is already waiting for you to join Him.” She nodded her head in the direction of the next set of massive wooden doors.
“Thank you,” he responded.
Draken watched, as the woman dressed in a dark blue floor length gown bowed her head, and turned to hand his sword to another priestess, who then went to stand next to one of the burning braziers. They were both quite beautiful with their long light brown hair pulled back and braided with silver ribbons interwoven in the strands. He noticed, as the priestess moved away from him, her sway in her gait caused her braid to swing slightly and brush against her buttocks. Her hair had to be very long in its natural state in order for it to touch her behind while in a braid. Too bad she was a virgin, as was required of all priestesses, who served the deity, he thought. There was a shortage of available women, and it was getting hard for men to find a mate and she was a fine choice for any young man to make for a bride.
“Are you ready, my lord?” she asked him.
Draken turned his attention back to the priestess that had greeted him upon entering the temple. The pearl-like sparkly powder that she wore on her eyelids accentuated her blue eyes and her lips were stained the deepest ruby in color he had ever seen. Aradian women were not allowed to wear cosmetics like the women of Earth did, but the Maker seemed to fancy the practice and allowed His priestesses to do so.
“Yes, my lady,” Draken responded. She bowed her head in response.
She went to stand in front of the massive doors and pulled the lever to open it. She went inside and Draken followed her into the main sacred temple. He walked the length of the room and noticed that along the hallway on the side of the temple were several other women dressed like the priestess that walked in front of him. There were quite a few of them. They all hid behind a pillar when they realized they had been spotted and he heard the softest of chuckles come from their direction.
Why did the Maker need so many beautiful women in His service when there was a shortage of available women for the men living in Aradia? The past twenty years or so more males had been born than females and it was starting to get difficult to find mates. He hadn’t taken another wife after Felicia died, even though he was expected to, and if he were to, the choices were limited.
One small-framed woman peeped from behind a column and Draken could have sworn she looked pregnant. She immediately hid her swollen body from his line of sight. It was most unexpected, and Draken wondered what she was doing there.
“Helen!”
The deep voice reverberated throughout the temple and drew Draken’s attention to the overpowering male presence that stood upon the dais. The seven-foot figure wasn’t dressed in His usual attire, perhaps because of the colder weather. He wore stark white breeches that fit His muscled thighs like a second skin tucked inside knee high light tan boots. His chest was covered in a vest that matched the color of His boots with a white tunic underneath. His steel gray eyes stared in the direction of the hidden young pregnant woman, and He held out a hand toward her. She hurriedly went to stand next to her Maker and He gently rubbed her belly.
“Go. Rest. The boy will be born soon,” the deity said.
Another priestess came to her side and guided Helen down the dais to the back of the hall and into another room that Draken hadn’t ever noticed before existed.
“Priestesses! Leave us!” The Maker commanded the priestesses.
Within seconds the sound of soft scurrying feet drifted across the marble floor and the doors behind Draken closed, leaving him alone with the Maker.
“Beautiful women are they not?” The Maker walked down the three steps to stand in front of Draken. He placed a hand on Draken’s shoulder causing him to glance at the Maker’s hand. The Maker had never before been so informal with him and something told Draken the deity was up to something, what he didn’t know, but he was sure he was about to find out.
“Yes, they are. Though one can’t help but wonder why so many beautiful women are needed to operate one temple,” Draken said.
The Maker lowered His hand to His side and walked a circle around Draken. Draken followed the deity with his eyes, as best as he could, wanting to keep a wary eye on the imposing figure that seemed to be sizing him up. Yes, the Maker was up to something. Draken was sure of it now.
“Draken, I have decided to allow you to have one child of your own loins.”
“Oh, have You now, and by what means since my wife is deceased? As I recall, You hand picked Felicia to be my bride and she was barren,” Draken responded.
The Maker completed His circle around him and now stood directly in front of Draken.
“Which one of my priestesses do you want? There are twenty to choose from.”
“Do they not have a say in the matter?” Draken asked. “After all, they each have taken a vow of celibacy in order to serve You.”
“They are mine to do with as I please and they will do what I tell them.”
Draken raised an eyebrow as he answered, “And I assume You did as You saw fit with the Lady Helen, who is now swollen with child.”
“I have my reasons for filling her with my seed, and the issue does not concern you. Do you want the babe or not?” He said in an even tone.
That news came as a shock to Draken, the Maker was impregnating Aradian women? He thought the practice of deities having sex with humans had long been abandoned and only occurred in Earth’s stories of Greek gods. If the Maker was capable of getting the women here pregnant, how many little Makers were there running around? The thought of their deity having children never crossed his mind. Were the Maker and the Great Mother the only deities here or were there others that aren’t worshipped that no one knew about? Now that he thought about it, there had to be, especially if this deity was sexually active. There could be a whole pantheon of gods out there, but where?
“Well, I’m waiting for an answer,” The Maker said.
“Since You are offering, I will graciously accept. The priestess in the outer hall that now stands holding my sword is my choice.”
“Chloe!”
The priestess that walked him into the temple appeared through the door at the end of the massive room. She slowly walked toward them and stopped just short of where Draken stood. She curtsied and folded her hands before her and waited for her Maker to speak.
“The priestess that now holds his sword, bring her to me,” the deity commanded.
She bowed her head and turned to retrieve the other woman.
Draken stood there in silence, his feet apart in a stern stance with his hands behind his back. He was about to receive a bride, something he thought he would never do again, and this time a child was promised from the union. His Maker was full of surprises. He didn’t know what sparked this change of heart toward him, but he wasn’t about to question the Maker.
He wanted that woman from the first moment he saw her, and now she was his. He hadn’t had sex since his wife died two years ago, and he had stayed away from the young available ladies so that the young males in the village were able to marry. He really wasn’t attracted to the younger women anyway, and this one was certainly young, but there was something about her that sparked a desire in his groin he hadn’t felt in years.
Moments later, the priestess walked in with his new bride to be. Her long sable brown hair swayed behind her, as she walked, and he caught a glimpse of the end of her braid as it swung just past her buttocks to appear on either side of her hips. She walked toward him with her head held high and with an air of regal about her. Her aura was a vibrant blue that seemed to match in intensity with her dark blue gown that clung to her sensual curves underneath it. Her breasts bounced ever so lightly with each step she took, and he longed to touch her creamy flesh.
She came up beside him and bowed to the Maker.
“You sent for me, my Lord Maker?” she asked.
Her voice was soft and angelic. Draken was mesmerized by the harmonic feminine tone that crossed her luscious ruby lips. She was more than he could have ever dreamed of having.
“Cassandra, the ruler of Aradia has chosen you to be his new bride. There is no need for a rite of passage to be performed. You are to lie in his bed and do whatever he asks of you, give him your virginity, and never take another between your legs. You are to be his wife and perform all duties associated with your new position and you will bear him one child. Honor him, Cassandra, the same way you honor me.”
“Yes, my Lord Maker. I give You my oath to do as You say with my heart fully invested in my duties as his wife.” Cassandra turned to face Draken and graciously fell to her knees, lowering her head as a sign of respect.
“My lord ruler, I am honored you have chosen me to be your bride and I give you my word to do my best to please you.”
Draken lowered down to kneel on one knee. He picked up her braid that hung down her back and brought it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the soft strands. He caressed the braided locks between his fingers and lifted her chin with his other hand so that her dark blue eyes met his.
“I have no doubt you will please me,” he said in a gentle tone.
Draken took her by the hand and helped her to rise. She stepped closer to him, as a sign that she intended to keep her word.
“The marriage will take place here in three days. Chloe, take Cassandra and prepare her for her transition from priestess to wife of a ruler.” The Maker motioned for the women to leave.
Draken watched his bride to be walk to the back of the temple and disappear through the door that Helen had gone through. He barely heard the Maker speaking to him.
“Now that is out of the way, we need to discuss the mission I have set for you. I want you to take a small group of men across the veil and rid Earth of the warlord that is causing such havoc with the plans I have for Earth as well as Aradia.”
“Yes, that was my original reason for coming here,” Draken turned his attention back to the Maker.
“Has Pagan been betrothed to Tristan?”
“Yes, the legal papers have been drawn up, although she’s not going to be happy when she is told she has no choice but to marry him.”
“Don’t worry about that. I have already put measures in place to make sure she does marry him. She must go through the same rite as the other women in order to be a part of Aradian society. He mustn’t marry her until after her rite of passage.”
“She definitely isn’t going to like that. But I will see to it that she does go through with it. I need time to train my men for the mission. May I ask, why send Aradians to do this? The fewer who know where the veil is, the better it is for Aradia. We don’t need any more unnecessary crossings.”
The Maker walked back up the dais to stand behind the altar. “Do it because I want you to. And I want Tristan to go with you. Wait till after he and Pagan are married before you go.”
“Tristan! He is my heir until my own son is born! If anything happens to me, he will be ruler! He must stay here!” Draken demanded.
“Don’t raise your voice to me! I am your Maker, and you will do as I say!”
“Cassandra, that’s why You gave her to me, to get me to do what You want, isn’t it?”
“No, it is not. I need a child of your loins to be born. That is the only reason why my priestess is to be your bride. Don’t question my actions, Draken, accept them.”
The Maker waved His hand and disappeared in a white mist. Draken was alone. Damn! There always had to be a reason where the Maker was concerned, and the reason wasn’t always made clear. Tristan. He was being forced to take Tristan across the veil to attack an army of ruthless men. He rubbed his forehead at the thought of what he was just told he needed to do.
There was no doubt that they would have to launch a full-scale attack against that man’s army before they were able to get to him. He knew how those type of men thought. He spent over five years on Earth with the threat of drug lords as well as warlords, looming over his quiet village. He cared for those people and admired the way they rebuilt their poor Maya village every time a hurricane blew through, and they always managed to escape the hands of the local low life as long as he was there. They had accepted him as a member of their village, and he felt welcome there.
After he left, it seemed things had changed and the people he cared for over there were running for their lives. He had to change that for their sake. He felt he owed them that for accepting him into their village as one of their own, and he wanted to kill that bastard for making Pagan’s life a living hell.
Well, at least Pagan was finally where she belonged and was betrothed to someone he trusted to treat her right. The only thing that wasn’t right was the life Esmeralda had to live. He still loved her after all these years, but he knew she wanted to stay where she was to raise Pagan, and he wasn’t allowed to bring her with him. He let her go and it tore his heart to do so.
He was never able to love Felicia like he needed to, and he regretted that. Fifteen years had passed, and he still had a love for his Ezzie in his heart, but she probably didn’t for him. They could never be together as man and wife. He needed to move on and hopefully Esmeralda was safe in Mexico City, though he doubted it. She was too stubborn to do anything for her own good. He hoped she had forgiven him by now. Now he had to concentrate on starting a new life with a new bride.
Cassandra’s face entered his mind. She was beautiful and his loins throbbed with a need to bury himself deep inside her. It seemed his body knew what he needed before his mind did. He thought for a moment how the whole bride thing went down. The Maker offered him his choice of twenty priestesses, but he had only really seen two of them and they were presented to him in the outer room before he even talked to the Maker.
The Maker never intended on giving him a choice. He placed Cassandra before him because that was His choice for Draken. The other woman was pretty as well, but she didn’t have that sensuality about her that Cassandra possessed. Clever deity the Maker was.
“Give a man an illusion of a choice only to have him do what you want him to do in the first place. Well played,” he said to an empty room.
Draken walked casually down the long hall and into the outer chamber of the temple. To his surprise, Cassandra was standing there holding his sword. She approached him and held out his gleaming sword for him to take. He stepped closer to her and smiled, as he sheathed his weapon.
“You have my word I’ll be a good husband to you,” he said to her.
She stood on her tiptoes to try to reach his ear. He leaned into her.
She whispered, “And I a good wife to you.” She kissed his cheek tenderly.
Draken pulled her into his arms and claimed her lips without hesitation. He brushed his lips across hers with a soft feather touch and he felt her shiver ever so slightly in his arms. She tasted of sweet wine and honey, and he became intoxicated by her essence.
Yes, the Maker had chosen well. Cassandra was exactly what he needed. He licked her lower lip, she sighed, opening her mouth a little wider, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth and gave her a very slow, sensual, teasing kiss that caused her to breathe deeply.
Oh, yes, pleasing her was going to be easy and sexually satisfying, he thought.
“In three days, you will be mine, Cassandra. I look forward to it.”
He released her and walked out of the temple to find Tristan. They had a lot that needed to be discussed.
***
Pagan watched, as Tristan groomed his honey-colored stallion. He was a fine specimen of a horse, at least 16 hands or more with very severe taut muscles that held a sense of awe when looked upon. He was rather larger, but she figured he needed to be to carry such a man as Tristan with his 6-foot 5 frame.
In fact, every man she had encountered so far in Aradia had been rather tall and possessed a masculine physique that would make any young school girl get all hot and bothered over.
Well, other girls at least, not her, or so she told herself. She had no need for a man and getting all worked up over one seemed ridiculous. Why let a man get to her like that when she knew it was only a matter of time before he left her? No, the best defense was to never allow it to happen at all. That way she would have no broken heart and no sorrow to add to the mountain of pain she already possessed. For her, a man in her life just wasn’t meant to be.
Tristan leaned over and checked the hoof of his trusty mount. He cooed him and calmly spoke to him, as he raised the front leg and began pressing upon the shoe that had been earlier placed on his hoof. He was a kind man and had a gentle side she never would have guessed he had because of his overwhelming size. He had been kind to her as well while her healer, but he always seemed to irritate her by parading around naked for the entire world to see.
What was up with that? The thought had occurred to her that he was doing it on purpose just to get a reaction out of her, and it worked every time. How dare he ask if she liked what she saw? The audacity of the man to think she held even an inkling of an attraction to him.
Yes, he had silky raven hair that hung halfway down his back, but that didn’t mean she wanted to run her fingers through it to feel every soft silky strand. And those gorgeous brown speckled eyes, it wasn’t like she felt herself getting lost in their depths every time she looked at him. It was just a natural response to look him in the eyes whenever he spoke to her. It was the polite thing to do and…
So, you do like what you see, princess. He chuckled.
Stop that! Get out of my mind!
She clenched her fists at her sides and looked around for something to throw at him. All she could find at the moment was a rag on the half stable wall, so she grabbed it and hurled it directly at him.
He stood at that precise instant, and he caught it in mid air. He gave her a crooked smile.
“Now, princess, we have had this conversation before. If you don’t want me to hear your thoughts, then don’t direct them straight to me.”
She huffed with exasperation at the sarcasm in his voice. He was mocking her! And judging by the look on his face, he was enjoying it! Well, she wasn’t going to stand for that, no man had the right to invade her thoughts like that; she didn’t care who he was! She scoffed inwardly, future leader of Aradia or not, with him around who needed spies to see if there were enemies about. All he had to do was poke around in their mind, and boom, he’d catch them.
“I suppose you heard that, too,” she said as she placed her hands on her hips.
“Actually, I did,” he replied.
He walked toward her to stand inches away from her body. She felt a sudden surge of heat flow from him, and she could have sworn it was desire. He wanted her! Her empathic ability screamed in her head, and she wasn’t able to shut the inner voice up!
She took a step backward and he took a step forward. Her nerves were coming alive and tingled up and down her spine. He was too close, and she needed to put distance between them. She wasn’t afraid of him; it was just that his nearness was a bit unsettling. Something in her inner most thoughts was encouraging her to reach out and touch him, to reach up and place her hand behind his neck and bring his head closer…to softly kiss his…
That’s right, young one, kiss him. You know you want to.
The soft sound of laughter filled her mind. She shook her head, wondering where that feminine voice came from. It wasn’t hers. The thought entered her mind out of nowhere.
“Tristan, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Laughter.”
He reached down and caressed her cheek. She must have had a strange look on her face because the look on his was one of concern.
“All you all right, Pagan?”
“Huh?”
“Pagan, look at me.”
She hadn’t realized she had averted her eyes. She shot a glance up at him and he gripped her chin to hold her gaze to his. He gently caressed her lower lip with his thumb.
“Don’t scare me like this, princess. Answer me. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I just thought I heard–”
“Voices?” he asked.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I have my suspicions.” He lowered his hand and took hers in his. “Come, I need to clean up a bit before I take you to your grandparents.”
He guided her out of the stables and in the direction of the path that led to the manor. Tristan put what felt like a protective hand in the small of her back, and she felt a slight wave of possessiveness encompass her entire being. He somehow managed to build a shield around her that pulsated and blocked out all the outer forces that were present.
He was protecting her from whatever it was that invaded her mind just moments ago, and she felt safe. It didn’t make sense why she felt that way, she had always been able to defend herself before, but the foreign force that was sneaking up on her was not like anything she had ever encountered before. There was a god-like quality to it and that’s why it felt different, not menacing, just playful, like someone or something was toying with her heartstrings.
***
Aphrodite gently ran her hand across the neck of the honey-colored stallion. She laughed softly at what she had just witnessed. Tristan had taken the initiative and marked Pagan as his with his protective shield he placed around her.
It seems your master has fallen in love with his princess. And soon she will fall in love with him as well.
Aphrodite!
Oh, Ares, hold your horses. I’m coming. She whispered in the stallion’s ear, No pun intended. Her laughter filled the stables, as she shimmered into a fine golden mist.
***
“Your grandparents’ home is not far.”
His words brought her back to reality. Her grandparents, she was to go live with them even though she had never met them. That was what she wanted to know. She went looking for Tristan when he didn’t return right away from his meeting with Draken, and she had found him in the stables. She had got so caught up in watching him with his horse that she didn’t alert him to her presence, or so she thought. His reading her mind gave her away.
“Tristan, what did Draken say?” she asked.
“Well, actually quite a lot, but for one, you are to stay with your grandparents, and secondly, the Maker has decided you are to live here and not return to Earth.”
A wave of relief swept over her. She was granted asylum and given a chance to live in peace for the first time in a long time. She stumbled, as the realization fully sank in. It was over; Gomez was no longer able to hunt her down. She was safe.
Marco was right; her mother’s people did want her here and were willing to allow her to live among them. It was the Maker that forbade her being in Aradia, and for some unknown reason He had changed His mind. She was grateful for that. Knowing her life hung in the balance on the decision of an unknown deity was kind of hard to swallow at first, but Tristan believed He existed and so did Draken.
Tristan pulled her closer to him to balance her awkward steps. She regained her composure and straightened the wool green long-sleeved gown Betha had given her to wear. Pagan clasped the ends of the thick shawl and pulled it closer to her body. It all was rather soft and felt like it was made from very expensive material.
The 1st Ruling House had money and plenty of it. The house Tristan shared with his family was impressive to say the least and was filled with every luxury anyone could ask for, except a tub in the bathroom.
For some reason Tristan insisted on bathing in a wooden tub that had to be carried in every night and filled with hot water. And she endured his naked form stepping in and out of the tub only to lay next to her without a stitch of clothing on. She found it odd that each night his servant, Stella, gave him a questioning look and he waved her off. She would shrug her shoulders as if in a query about something and leave, closing the door behind her.
Well, at least she was allowed to bathe in Betha’s room and didn’t have to be in an uncomfortable state with him watching her clean her body. She was grateful for everything he had done for her, and she wasn’t too happy about having to sleep with him, but all in all, he did heal her and kept her alive. And she had to admit he was a gentleman, even though he held her a little too tight for her liking each night.
Pagan ran all those thoughts in her mind over and over again and she suddenly realized she was trying to find reasons not to like him. Why was she so bent on putting him in a negative light? Oh well, she thought. It was all coming to an end soon. He was taking her to her grandparents’ house where she was to live the rest of her life.
They walked into the manor and headed for the main stairs. Halfway up, Patrice called out to them. They both stopped and turned to see her smiling face looking up toward them and a woman standing next to the lady of the house.
“Ah, I was wondering when you were going to get here. I have been waiting for you to arrive,” Tristan said as he bolted down the stairs to greet the unknown woman and hugged her while he left Pagan standing alone, as if she no longer existed.
Pagan crossed her arms and began to pat her foot on the step. Who was she and why was Tristan so excited to see her?
“I came as soon as I could. I knew you were in a hurry for my services.”
Services? Pagan sent that thought to him on purpose.
Tristan shot her a sly glance. Jealous?
She heard his thought in her mind.
Nooo, not in the least.
He laughed. “Come, my lady, join us. What I need from you can be done upstairs.”
Tristan offered his arm to the woman, and she graciously accepted his escort up the stairs. Once he reached Pagan, he grabbed her elbow with his free hand and not so gently guided her up with them. They walked the hall to his bedroom and all three entered through the massive door. He closed the door behind them, and the woman immediately placed her small bag on the table that had served as a dinner table for she and Tristan for the past two weeks. He began to undress, as was his usual fashion whenever he entered his room, and the woman didn’t really pay particular attention to what he was doing.
Oh, great, another episode of Tristan being naked in front of yet another woman, she thought.
“I’m ready when you are, Lord Tristan.”
“Great. Pagan, take off those bulky clothes and put on a thin gown,” he said to her.
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, she can be in her natural state for what I need to do. In fact, it would be much easier and accurate if she was,” the woman said.
“What!” Pagan placed her hands on her hips.
Tristan walked over to Pagan and with a crooked smile he grabbed her wrap and pulled it off of her.
“You heard the lady, get naked.”
He walked over to the other side of the room and sat in the chair next to the other woman to pull off his boots. He then sat there, wearing only his breeches, and crossed one leg over his knee and placed and elbow on the armrest, staring at Pagan, waiting for her to do as he asked.
The woman turned around to face Pagan and to her surprise she was holding a tape measure. She walked over to Pagan.
“Do you need help? Here, turn around and let me unbutton this gown for you. I made this for Lady Betha last fall for the winter. This color does look wonderful on you. Would you like a gown in green as well as the other colors Lady Betha picked out for you?”
She was there to take her measurements in order to sew clothes for her. Pagan flushed at the thoughts that had just recently ran through her mind about this woman, and Tristan let her believe she was there to service him and possibly her in a sexual manner.
Tristan, how dare you let me believe the worst about her? You could have told me.
Hey, you were the one who jumped to the wrong conclusions, and you didn’t give me a chance before you started throwing your jealous darts my way. You should know by now I will not do wrong by you, princess.
Wrong by me? What does that mean?
What do you think that means?
Betha opened the door and practically jumped for joy when she saw the seamstress helping Pagan out of the long gown. She immediately went to her and started chattering right away.
“Oh, good, I’m so excited to see what you sew for her. I picked out pastel fabrics mostly because I thought they would complement your pretty hair, Pagan.” She turned to Tristan. “You can leave now, big brother, I think we have everything under control here.”
“I’m being dismissed so casually. Well, I can take a hint. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” He rose to walk over to his dresser and retrieved fresh clothes. “I’ll be in Brailey’s room, taking a nice warm bath, if anyone cares.”
He walked over to Pagan and touched her ringlets. “Yes, Betha, I do agree with your choices. The gowns will complement her very well.” He turned and left the women to the task of getting Pagan fitted.
Pagan waited till he was gone before she took off the gown. “Betha, has he seen the choices you made?”
“Oh, yes. He wanted the final approval of my choices before he paid for the fabrics.”
“He paid?”
“Yes, Pagan. It was his idea to have the seamstress sew clothes for you. Didn’t he tell you he was doing this for you?” Betha asked.
“No, he didn’t.”
“He was so happy when he approached me with the idea, I just assumed he had spoken to you about it, and you agreed to be measured.”
“He never said a word to me about this at all.”
“Lady Pagan, will you hold your arms out for me so I can measure your breast size?” The seamstress asked.
“What? Oh, yes, of course.”
Pagan stretched her arms out to her sides and the seamstress efficiently measured her. Lady, the seamstress had called her lady. It sounded weird to hear it, but she knew it was customary to call a member of the ruling houses lord or lady. This was a whole new world for her, and it was going to take some getting used to.
“You are almost built like your mother. You should be proud to have inherited her built. She was a beautiful woman and such a fine specimen of femininity, if you don’t mind my boldness in speaking such words, my lady.”
“You knew my mother?” Pagan asked.
“Yes, she and I were about the same age. My mother taught me the trade of a seamstress at an early age, and I was sewing gowns for the ruling houses by the time I was fifteen. I even altered a dress to be her wedding gown.”
“Pagan touched the woman’s hand. “Wedding gown? My mother was married?”
“She was betrothed to Lord Draken, and they were to be married before she disappeared,” the seamstress replied.
“Draken!” Pagan said in a loud voice.
“You didn’t know?” Betha asked.
“No, no one ever told me that. In fact, I know so little about her.”
Betha shifted nervously and averted her eyes.
“Sooo, you don’t know why Draken adopted you?” Betha asked.
“No, I just assumed because she was dead and the Maker wanted me gone from here and Draken was exiled as well, so he adopted me and brought me to Earth.”
The seamstress finished double-checking her measurements and wrote them down before she placed the pencil and paper back in her bag. “Well, I’m all done here. I’ll get back to my shop and get started right away. Lord Tristan has instructed me to deliver the gowns to your grandparents’ house. I should have at least one finished within a few days.” She bowed and quietly exited the room, closing the door behind her.
Betha picked up the green gown she had loaned to Pagan and helped her step into it. Betha knew about her mother, and she needed to hear, no, wanted to hear why she had ever agreed to marry Draken and somehow ended up pregnant by her soul mate. Her head was spinning at the prospect of Draken and her mother, and she wasn’t sure if she was going to like the answers she was going to get. But she needed to know.
“Betha, we are alone now. Please, tell me what you know about my mother.”
Betha buttoned the back of the gown as she spoke, “Well, I wasn’t even born yet, but what I have heard was that Draken was next in line to be ruler and when his father died, he was too young to rule, and the chair was given to my grandfather. The only way for Draken to regain his rightful place was to marry into the 2nd Ruling House, your grandfather’s house, and the leader of that house, your grandfather again, needed to adopt him symbolically because he had no sons himself. The transfer of power would’ve shifted to the 2nd Ruling House and that house would hold the ruling chair. Your grandfather offered Draken the chair as a wedding gift, and he was to be ruler here. Marrying your mother was the only way he could do that.”
“Why did she leave if she agreed to marry him?” Pagan asked confused.
Betha took Pagan by the hand and walked her over to the bed.
“Sit, Pagan, this may take a while.”
Pagan cautiously sat on the edge of the bed and Betha climbed in to sit next to her.
“I don’t know the whole story, mind you, but I’ll tell you what I do know. Draken knew your mother was the answer to his regaining the chair, so he placed himself, shall we say, in her life when she was a very young child. He made it perfectly clear he intended to marry her when she became of age, and he hardly ever left her side.”
“So, he smothered her.”
“Well, I think so, but there are those who say she was lucky he picked her to be his wife. He was a good-looking guy back in his day and most of the women in the main village wanted him for a mate. Anyway, the official story was she got spooked and fled, but her soul mate found her here and dragged her across the veil and raped her and you were the end product.”
“What? That’s absurd! My father was a well-known actor, who had women falling all over him. He didn’t have to kidnap women, they wanted to kidnap him!”
“I said it was the official statement that was presented to the general public. I don’t believe it for one second. I think she had her vision of her soul mate and she fell in love with him and decided he was what she wanted and left Draken to be with your father. She was too adjusted from what I have been told about her to have given into the longing, but the Maker took her soul anyway, along with your father’s, because of the rule of not seeking out one’s soul mate.”
“What rule and what is a longing or a vision, and you mean to tell me my father died here?” Pagan asked.
“Nobody told you anything about the way we live or our beliefs? Well, honey, you are in for a treat. I’ll have to get my book of rules and teach you everything you need to know.”
“Betha, my father?”
“Yeah, about that. Well, it seems Draken was upset about losing the chair and your mother, so he asked the council for possession of you as payment for your mother’s betrayal.”
“PAYMENT! YOU MEAN TO TELL ME DRAKEN ONLY WANTED ME AS A FORM OF COMPENSATION AND MY FAMILY AGREED TO THIS!” Pagan jumped off the bed and began pacing the room. “HOW COULD HE? MONEY, ALL I WAS TO HIM WAS A SUM OF MONEY?” Anger mixed with fury coursed through her veins. She tugged at her hair, wanting to pull every matted strand out in frustration. She couldn’t believe what she had just been told.
“Calm down, Pagan. Tristan is going to come in here to rescue you if you keep yelling. Your grandfather fought him on it, but in the end the council granted Draken his request and gave him permission to cross the veil to bring you and your mother back. He did and your real father followed him and, well, the Maker took his soul, too, along with yours. Draken put yours back and the Maker banished him and you to Earth.”
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Tristan came bursting through the door. He was soaking wet and looked like he had haphazardly thrown his breeches on, and his hair was dripping with water, clinging to his heaving chest.
“I told you Tristan was going to come running to the rescue if you kept yelling like that.”
“Pagan, your emotions are so strong right now, they hit me hard in my mind and practically knocked me and the tub across the room!” He stormed into the room. “Are you all right?”
“Tristan, why would Pagan’s emotions affect you like that, unless…” Betha covered her mouth and widened her eyes in surprise. “You two have a mind bond!”
“She’s an empath, Betha, leave it at that.”
“Oh, my heavens! This is so unexpected!” Betha squealed.
“What are you talking about?” Pagan rubbed her forehead as a pounding headache formed from the all the news she now had to absorb.
Tristan winced and began to rub his forehead as well.
“What’s wrong, Tristan?” Betha asked.
“She has a headache and thanks to whatever you two were discussing, I do, too.”
“What’s going on? Will someone please tell me?” Pagan asked with irritation.
“I have a confession to make, and I prefer to do it in private. So, Betha, do you mind?”
“Oh, I want to hear this,” Betha said with excitement in her voice.
“No, Betha, leave,” Tristan said in a strained voice.
“Just because you are going to be ruler someday doesn’t mean you can boss me around.”
“Actually, little sister, it does. Now leave.”
“Oh. All right. But in my defense, Tristan, she has a right to know.” Betha squeezed Pagan’s hand. “Don’t worry, Pagan, his bark is worse than his bite. We’ll talk later and I’ll explain all you need to know in the book of rules.”
“BETHA!” Tristan raised his voice at his sister.
“Jeez, aren’t we in a bad mood.” With that said, she hopped out of the bed and strolled out of the room.
“Close the door, Betha.”
“Yes, sir!” She slammed the door and Tristan went over to it and bolted it to block anyone from entering.
“PAYMENT! DRAKEN WANTED PAYMENT! WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME THIS BEFORE?”
He walked into the privy and grabbed a towel to return, rubbing the soft cotton over his hair to dry it. “She had no right to tell you.”
“Why not? I have a right to know!”
“It wasn’t her place to do it, I wanted to tell you myself.”
“What does it matter who told me, as long as someone did?”
“It does matter.” He began to dry off his chest and back. “It is my place to tell you these things, not hers.”
“Your place? What the hell does that mean?” she yelled the words at him.
“Stop yelling at me.”
“WELL, THEN EXPLAIN YOUSELF!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.
“IT’S MY PLACE BECAUSE YOU’RE MY–” Tristan stopped himself. He didn’t want to tell her about their betrothal this way. She needed to know, but she was so upset about the circumstances over her adoption, he didn’t want to add insult to an already deep hurt she was truly feeling. Their betrothal was another legal contract that was done for reasons that were politically motivated, and deemed necessary by the Maker, and she had no say so in the matter. She was again a pawn in someone else’s game, and he knew, hearing this now, would place a wedge between them and he didn’t want to take a chance of her hating him instead of one day loving him.
“I just feel responsible for you, that’s all, and I wanted to be the one to tell you because I do care about your well being.”
He walked over to her and touched her arm. She didn’t pull away and he was glad of that, but the whirlwind of emotions running through her small frame flooded his own with a tidal wave of despair.
“I know this is a lot to take in right now, and I’ll answer any questions you may have, but please, try to calm down. Aradia is your home now, and like it or not, Draken is your ruler as well as mine. We may not always approve of his actions, and I don’t agree with what he did all those years ago, but the fact is he did do it and you’re alive because of his desire to have you. And that, my dear princess, is the silver lining of my life.”
“Why do you feel responsible for me? Is it because you found me lying in the clearing that day?”
“It wasn’t like that. Your priest walked toward me and thrust you into my arms before he fell to the ground dead. Seeing to your safety was the last act the man was able to do. Speaking of the man, I need to take you to where his is buried so you can say goodbye properly.”
Those were sobering words. Suddenly, all the anger she felt melted away and was replaced with sorrow for the loss of a friend. “When?”
“Tomorrow, if you like. The snow is gone, and the road is clear for travel.”
“Tristan, I want to know everything about my parents, and I don’t mean Draken.”
“I’ll tell you all that I know.”
Tristan placed his arms around her, and she leaned her head against his damp chest.
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Why are you so good to me? You barely know me, but yet you do so much for me. Why?”
“Personality flaw of mine. Rescuing damsels in distress is what I live for.”
Pagan sighed. “I’m not exactly helpless, you know.”
“Oh, I know. And I’m very well aware if I do anything inappropriate, you will gut me like a snake, like you have mentioned too many times to count. Now, let me finish getting dressed and we’ll head over to your new home. We’ll take about your mother and father after we have an early dinner with Samson and Elizabeth.”
Tristan released her and began rummaging through his things to find another tunic.
Pagan silently walked over to the window and stared out at the grounds below. The snow had melted, and it was still a bit chilly out despite the heat of anger that roared through her senses moments ago. Her cheeks still felt flushed from her outburst she aimed toward Tristan, and none of this was his fault.
Yes, he should have told her, and he probably was going to, but more than likely he was waiting for the right time to do so instead of just springing it on her.
How do you approach a topic like that with someone you barely know? The first week she was here, she was not well, and he was more concerned about healing her than anything else. And Draken didn’t help matters. Every time he came to check up on her, they usually ended up in an argument, and Tristan was the mediator and always took her side.
Tristan respected Draken but wasn’t afraid to stand up to him. If he didn’t agree with the man, he would let him know. She admired that and it was kind of nice for a change to have someone else look after her instead of she looking out for others to keep them safe from Gomez.
“Pagan, are you ready to go?” Tristan asked.
She turned her head in his direction. “Yes, I am.” She rubbed her forehead. “Tristan, you’re my healer, can you make the headache go away?”
He smiled. “Of course.” He began to take off the tunic he had just put on, as he walked toward her.
“Okay, do you have to get naked every time you heal me?”
“It helps, but if you insist, we can do this the hard way.”
“I insist.”
“Princess, you’re no fun, you know that?”
He stood in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her head and began to gently rub her temples. She felt a soothing sensation caress the spots his fingers were, and the pain slowly ebbed out of her body. Her headache was soon replaced with a soft vibration that was undeniably his affection for her. She looked up into his eyes and saw his feelings for her mirrored the emotion he was placing in her mind. Tristan truly cared for her, and she was touched at the way he so openly shared his emotions with her.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Now that both our headaches are gone, shall we go?”
Tristan held out his hand for her to take and she obliged. In silence they left the room that had been her home for the past two weeks. It was the only place familiar to her in Aradia and he the only man she felt comfortable with. That in itself was a big change for her to get used to. Lying next to him each night and feeling his masculine energy filling her body had become almost second nature to her. It felt right for some reason and now that it was no longer needed; she had to find her place in a world that sent her away twenty years ago.
***
Rhea stood at the entrance of the cave. She hadn’t stepped foot on Greek soil in thousands of years, but here she was about to do something that was going to make her Zeus’ enemy. She slowly entered the cave known as Charonium, a cavern that held an entrance to the underworld. It hadn’t been used in centuries and the lack of settlements around it was proof it was a forgotten place to man. Deep within was Aornum, the entrance to the underworld and a way for her to put her plan in motion.
The goddess walked cautiously till she reached the dark opening that was her destination. The poisonous fumes filled the air, leaving a foul smell to ward of intruders. The fumes had no effect on her except to cause her to cover her mouth and nose to keep the hideous odor from assaulting her senses.
She stepped into the opening and leaned against the cold rock wall. She looked around to make sure no one else was around. She didn’t expect to see anyone, but she had to be cautious. The darkness was shielding her presence. The only deity that was close at hand was Hades and she wanted to make sure she didn’t alert any guards he may have placed in and about the known entrances to his realm.
It didn’t take long before she could sense the evil that resided below. It swelled with intense hatred, and she realized with great relief that finding the souls to do her bidding was going to be easier than she had thought. The underworld was overrun with souls that Zeus did not allow to be reborn for one reason or another, and below them were the evil ones that stirred in Tartarus with her brothers that Zeus had imprisoned for fighting against him.
Rhea raised her arms in the air and formed a silver swirling mist in front of her. She stepped into it and reemerged at the bronze fence that surrounded the prison for the damned. She knelt before it and removed a gold dagger from underneath her black chifton. Her long white hair touched the cold dark ground, and she used one hand to pull it over her shoulder to drape across her chest.
She held the handle of the gold weapon and thrust it into the dirt. A shimmer of white light burst before her eyes and swished around her kneeling body. It twirled and danced around her, and she smiled at the power surge that flowed through her. It had been a long time since she used her immortal abilities, and the immense thrill that coursed through her veins sent a chill of anticipation whirling up her spine.
Rhea pushed the dagger a little deeper into the ground and a small crevasse appeared below the bronze fence. With each passing second, the crease she created in the soil deepened and widened to the point souls could escape. She rose to stand before the bronze barrier and she placed her hands upon it. She closed her eyes and willed the evil to come to her. She needed as many as she could get to do her bidding, and to her amazement, one hundred evil souls heeded her call. One by one they squeezed underneath their prison wall and gathered around her, waiting to be given their new duty.
Rhea formed an image of the daughter of the chosen souls to appear in the center of her new army. They began to move closer to the transparent apparition and each began to howl, as they understood Rhea’s command. They hurriedly twisted with excitement and bounced off the walls of the cave. They were only masses of pure energy, but they were dark, menacing balls of malevolent life.
She pointed toward the exit of their hell. Go, find her, and destroy her.
They swarmed in toward the image of their target and busted through it to make it dissipate and fall into a thousand white sparkles.