The Fates (Book I) - 2014 Watty Award Winner!

4.1 - The Sacrifice

“Looks a lot like the princess…” the first fisherman insisted.

The skeptical friend squatted down by Lachesis. “So you’re the royal beauty, then? Andromeda herself?”

She blinked her blue eyes blankly at the same-hued sky.

“Must be in shock from the cold sea,” he inferred. “Let’s take her into town. See what the city has to say.”

“Can’t we first have a bit of fun with her …?” the youngest among them suggested. “She landed like this on our beach, after all…”

Lachesis froze. This sort of ‘fun’ did not sound very fun, to her.

The skeptical fisherman scowled at the boy, the scowl of a father to a son who should have outgrown such stupidity by now. “Have you lost mind?” he rebuked. “Bring the king’s fury upon this family, for laying a hand on his virginal daughter?”

The boy pouted, dejection dampening the fires of desire in his callow eyes. “More than a hand…” he muttered.

“I thought you doubted whether she’s the princess?” the boy’s elder brother reminded their father, his own gaze glimmering with similar desires.

“No doubt is worth risking the wrath of a king,” the father gruffly advised his sons, reaching to haul the maiden from the waterline. “Let’s get her up, and clothed—so as to calm your crotches down.”

Lachesis wondered whether she should say something. But no words came to her mind. She followed mutely, stumbling across the rocky sand, her weight supported by the fisherman’s arms and his two sons’ overeager hands. The other few men in the group stayed behind to attend to the day’s catch. Not without stealing glances at the finest creature that the tide had ever carried to their shores.

The fisherman’s wife was less than thrilled to see a naked stranger unexpectedly dragged in across her doorsill. She greeted her boys with a flurry of questions, grabbed up a spare dress to slip over the girl’s shuddering shoulders.

“King Cepheus will have even more questions for you, if this is indeed his daughter,” she grumbled, shaking her head in displeasure and hastily brushing the saltwater from Lachesis’s sun-gold hair. “Washed up on our coast like some lost whale. A likely tale.”

“But it’s true…!” the younger son insisted.

“Kings don’t care about truth. They won’t believe a story they don’t want to hear,” the mother huffed. “And they are not afraid to kill the messenger, no matter how honest or innocent.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” the elder brother asked.

“Haul her into town, and hand her off to others dumb enough to take the risk of bringing her to court. Trust me—there will be plenty,” the mother assured them. “Idiots who think the king might actually reward them for returning her, rather than assume the worst and have them punished for it.”

Lachesis winced as the fisherman’s wife scrubbed the grime from her skin with a sea sponge. Not so much out of pain from the abrasion, but rather from her tyrannous impression of the man who ruled this realm. She did not wish to be mistaken for his daughter… nor to cause this family any further trouble on account of it…

“I am not the princess,” she blurted out of the blue.

All four pairs of eyes in the household glanced up in surprise at the sound of her voice. Blinked in sync with each other.

“Who are you, then?” the younger brother asked, in hopes that she was someone he could fuck without a penalty.

Lachesis lowered her gaze, bit her lip with a lengthy pause. “I…”