Twelve
The sun eclipsed the horizon, illuminating the sky in the early morning blues, purples and oranges. Lazy lavender clouds drifted by, and two birds darted by, their chirps carrying on the gentle morning breeze. Aside from the occasional chirps from birds or smaller animals, it was remarkably silent. There were no city noises. No exhaust casting a smoggish veil over the sky, no light pollution to block out nature's lights. I'd seen more stars in the sky in Anatolia than I've ever seen in my years living in the city. They were striking, glimmering gems sewn into a velvet sky.
I assumed we were further inland, with the lush forest cutting us off from the ocean, though the air still sagged with salt and moisture. The early morning air had a different effect than the afternoon. It sent a chill through me, a jolt from my sleep-deprived mind to my toes as I stood in front of the little farmhouse. It was the only thing that would wake me up, given they didn't have coffee at this point in history.
Of all the things I missed, coffee was easily in the top ten. Toilet paper, my phone, showers, deodorant, and toothpaste were on that list as well. They had a makeshift "bath," but it was too close to the pig trough for my liking. Apparently, pigs were clean, but... still... Paris told me sympathetically that he would take me to the river to bathe there, but I didn't know how I felt about him being around while bathing in a river. It had been awkward enough when he caught me bathing in Dryope's territory.
Dryope felt like a distant memory.
Sheep grazed lazily in their pen while a couple of chickens clucked at each other as they meandered by. Paris's father, Agelaus, was by the two pigs, feeding them, while Paris moved towards the sheep pen. It was pretty standard, minus all the heavy-duty equipment I associated with farms. And it was tiny. It was hardly big enough for Paris and his father, let alone with an interloper like me. Thankfully Chiron had taken his daughter into the wilds of the mountain.
From the stories, I'd known Paris's adopted father to be a kind man (he did save Paris from death after all), but that's all I knew. Agelaus was just a prop used to carry Paris forward in his destiny. I wasn't sure what to expect when I met him. Surprisingly, he was a quiet, soft-spoken man and hardy in build. It was clear he was used to hard work, though age was rapidly catching up to him.
Paris had been right in that he looked nothing like his father. The shepherd prince had dark skin and beautiful features, which hadn't yet been chiselled away by farm life. On the other hand, Agelaus was hardened and ruddy in complexion.
Despite all their hospitality, I was unable to settle. My anxiety refused to relinquish its hold, though it had numbed into something manageable by the evening. Paris was still keeping me at arm's length, the distrust palpable. The one good thing was that he agreed to help me get out of here so long as I helped him get to Troy. Unfortunately, Paris was plenty busy on the farm, taking up most of the chores, which delayed our travel by days. We were settling into a kind of routine that, while comforting, put me on edge.
To keep myself busy, I spent my time exploring the mountain with Chiron. The centaur had endless patience for all my griping and whining (I wasn't exactly a hiking enthusiast). It was better than sitting around the farm doing nothing.
"This is poppy," Chiron explained, plucking the white flower from its stem. "Demeter created these to aid in sleep. A couple of drops from milk of the poppy cures pain and calm even the most excited soldier." He tucked a few in his pouch and smiled. "They are also used to calm anxieties."
"God, I could use some of that," I mumbled, staring at the little white flower. I thought I'd said it under my breath, but Chiron grabbed my arm and held me firm.
"Do not ever use the poppy without guidance," he ordered, "it is a dangerous plant if used incorrectly."
White poppy. Aconite. Almond trees. Manna. Juniper trees. Oleander. The list went on and on. Every little plant or tree we stumbled across, Chiron became a professor. His lectures could carry on for hours if I let him. He also shared plenty about the world I found myself, the customs, cultures, the food. As a woman, I must opt for the "be seen, not heard" model. Women were often sold off in marriage contracts. I was unwed, and an unwed woman wandering around without accompaniment was a problem. One that would get even trickier once Paris became prince.
"Who cares?" I demanded. "Athena doesn't need any chaperone, I sure as hell don't."
"Athena is a goddess," Chiron explained in his annoyingly calm voice. "She is above the laws of man."
Of course she was.
When it came time for bed, Paris's bed (which he kindly offered) was lumpy and rough, thanks to the straw stuffed inside. It was a far cry from the memory foam I was used to. I think I managed to get some sleep between all the tossing and turning because, before long, the loud rooster was cocka-doodle-dooing on the roof above the bed. Of course, it would be right above me.
Now I stood watching the two men carry on about their business and pulled the thin, useless blanket closer around my body. They had provided me with a spare change of clothes that had once belonged to Paris, but the material was just as thin as the blanket. It didn't fit properly either so I used it as pyjamas. The sleeves kept sliding off my shoulders, and I had to cinch the belt tight around my waist, yet I was still swimming in it. The chiton Athena had gifted me was hanging in my room, having just been washed in the river.
Paris glanced over from the sheep pen, and when he noticed I was awake, his smile was tentative. He waved at me to join him. I chewed a hole into my bottom lip, hesitating. Since I first awoke on the farm, he didn't say much to me, only brief, one word responses. I needed help, and he was the only one around who seemed willing to do so, even if he had no idea what he was getting into. Chiron insisted that he was doing this because he wanted to, but he'd been sent to me by Apollo. In some ways, he had no choice to help either.
On top of it all, I was so lonely (Chiron and his droning lectures didn't count) and Paris had this charm that was difficult to resist. I wanted to be next to him at all times.
Besides, nothing catastrophic has happened yet. Maybe I wasn't stepping on any butterflies.
A raven cawed from the roof of the farmhouse.
"Good morning," he smiled as I approached the pen.
"Morning," I mumbled, glancing at the sheep. "Are you taking them out for a walk? Isn't it a little early for that?"
He surprised me with a laugh, and I couldn't help but worry I was hallucinating his warmth. It was still early. I might still be half asleep.
Was it early? The sun wasn't that high in the sky, but I had no idea what time it actually was without my phone. I'd lost track days ago. I only knew periods of time based on the sun. If it was out, it was day time. If the moon was out, it was night.
"They can't stay in the pen all day, so I take them into the fields to graze," he explained. "The earlier, the better since predators are less likely to be lurking about." He paused and chewed his bottom lip. "I was hoping you might join me? We should talk."
I tried to ignore the twist of anxiety in my stomach at the word 'talk.' "Well, since you asked, I could use a walk." Even though that's literally all I've done with Chiron. "You don't have any coffee shops around here, so I can't get my caffeine fix."
His confused look coaxed an embarrassed giggle from my lips. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. A walk would be great."
That's why I needed coffee. I was a ball of exhaustion and anxiety, and coffee helped clear my head... or it would make all of this worse–dealers choice. From what I heard, though, fresh air was the next best thing. There was plenty of that around here. There hasn't been a time when I've ever breathed in air so fresh and crisp. My smog-addled lungs were thrilled.
"We usually wander through the pasture and turn back when we hit the treeline," Paris said, which I took as an acceptance to my self-invitation. "They're typically obedient, but we have to remain vigilant. They do tend to wander, and if there is a wolf or other predator around, they'll take advantage of a stray."
He unlatched the little pen, and the sheep filed politely out into the stretch of freedom but hovered close. They knew Paris was their guardian, and following him kept them safe. He seemed much more at ease here with his sheep. The thought of him becoming a prince was laughable. He was a shepherd, not a Trojan prince.
We walked in amiable silence for a few minutes, the sheep bleating and jogging in front of us. When one wandered a little too far for Paris's comfort, he would call out to it and usher it back to the herd. He showed me why he carried a stick around and how shepherding was exactly what you'd think it was: keeping the sheep safe and together. It wasn't too difficult of a job since the sheep were actually quite obedient, but it quickly became apparent why modern shepherds used a herding dog. If we let ourselves get too distracted and one sheep wandered away, we didn't have the dog-like reflexes to chase after them. At least, I didn't. Paris, predictably, was amazing. He always had one eye on them at all times.
Once we arrived at the sheep's favourite grazing spot, Paris helped me onto a large boulder overlooking the pasture. The large shadow of Mount Ida kept us cool as the sun climbed higher and higher, evaporating the morning's chill.
"It's wonderful," I said, crossing my ankles. "I don't think I've ever been anywhere so... quiet."
"Life in the city is different than in the country, I imagine."
When he asked, his eyes lit up, excited at the notion of city life. I laughed and shrugged. His innocence was endearing.
"True... but my home's a city you would know," I said slowly, "it's far away and really different from Troy."
"You're still very secretive," he noted. His warmth had cooled again. "I was hoping we could talk about things freely."
"Right..." I looked at my lap. "It's not exactly an easy story to tell, Paris. I'm sorry."
We fell into a chilled silence, the only sounds coming from the grazing sheep below. I wanted to tell him, desperately, but I couldn't risk it.
"I've never been to Ilios," Paris admitted, "my father refuses to let me leave the farm. Says it's too dangerous, and if I go to Ilios, there's no telling what would happen. Which is why I asked you to help me get there."
I knew what would happen, but I kept it to myself. It was sweet that his father wanted to protect Paris from his birthright. Officially being recognized as the prince of Troy was only going to bring Paris' undoing.
That made my own plans even more difficult to accept. By helping him get to the city, I knowingly would put him in danger. By staying, I deliberately put every other person in existence in danger. How fair was that? It shouldn't bother me... I had to leave. Besides, Paris was just a character. He was sitting in front of me, but he wasn't really real... Right?
I'd even shared those fears with Chiron, though that turned out to be pointless. The centaur was all about the fates deciding the correct path. Whatever path I was on right now was the right one, blah, blah, blah. I thought having a centaur mentor would be fun... it wasn't.
With a sigh, I fold my knees under my chin, willing the guilt to subside. "He seems like a caring father."
Paris's smile grew soft, and it was then I could see just how much he cared for his adopted father. "He is, but a little too protective as well. I want to see the world. He thinks it's safer being hidden away. But, he's my only family, and I can't leave him." With a dry laugh, he combed his hand through his thick curls. "The struggle comes down to being a good son and staying here forever, and becoming a young man of the world."
We lapsed into another thoughtful silence. For a moment, the truth of who he was fidgeted on the tip of my tongue. If I said anything would it make much difference? He'd know to be careful when he went off to Sparta and to be a little smarter when choosing who received the Golden Apple.
The Golden Apple. Was that what Athena was talking about?
A gasp snagged in my throat as Paris leapt to his feet suddenly, his eyes scanning the sheep below.
"One's missing," he said and then said something I couldn't understand, though it was very much a curse word. "I need to find it." He glanced down at me, and gone was the soft, innocent young man. In his stead was a worried shepherd. "Stay here with the rest of the sheep and watch them. Don't let anymore out of your sight."
I opened my mouth to argue—do I look like a shepherd?—but he was already gone, leaving me with what felt like a huge responsibility. One strayed close to the rock I sat on and stared up at me with those strange eyes. I shivered. Don't lose another sheep. Cool. Super easy.
I don't know how long I sat there alone, but eventually, I started to worry. Paris had been gone longer than I'd anticipated. A dozen or so scenarios popped into my mind as I scanned the area. The sheep could have gotten lost or hurt, and it was taking Paris some time to save it. Or, Paris was hurt and needed help.
I stared down at the sheep as I weighed my options. I could run and grab his father, but that might only worry an already over-protective father. I could find Chiron. He would know what to do, but he wasn't always easy to find. There were times I spent hours looking for the centaur.
The other option was to risk abandoning the sheep. Surely, they'd be okay for a moment.
After another five minutes of deliberation, and with Paris still M.I.A., I climbed off the rock and placed my hands on my hips. "You sheep stay put. I'm going to find Paris, and I think he'll kill me if I lose any of you. If I find out one of you has wandered away, I'm making lamb chops out of you."
A few heads turned to me, and several beady eyes blinked at me, but none of them moved from their spot. Praying to the gods—yes, yes, it's highly unlikely they'd help—I darted off in the direction Paris had gone.
There was no sign of a wandering sheep or a shepherd prince as I jogged along the base of the mountain. Paris might have found the sheep while I've been searching for him, and he was now waiting to scold me for abandoning the rest of his flock. Plus, what if I got lost in the process? Paris knew this area way better than I did. He'd find his way back eventually.
With that defeating thought, I turned to walk back to the sheep when I heard a giggle. Followed by another giggle and a woman's voice. Curiosity pulled me towards the sounds, and when I rounded another corner, a small pond and a trickling waterfall that slide down the rocky mountainside appeared.
It was enclosed by a cluster of trees and was quite an intimate spot, making it a primo spot for bathing—an idea I tucked away for later.
It was beautiful, but it wasn't empty. Three women stood near the edge of the pond, gorgeous, shimmering hair cascading over their milky shoulders. Each of them was stunning in their own way with their flawless curves, radiating smiles, and smooth skin. The woman in the middle was blonde, and she had perfectly symmetrical features and a seductive demeanour. She exuded confidence and charm in an alluring way.
The one to her right was older, but she blew the other women out of the water with her stunning looks. Her hair was reddish-brown and hung in soft curls, which softened her otherwise severe and intense gaze.
And the woman to the blonde's left—
Wait a damn minute.
My eyes widened, and a hot flush crept over my cheeks.
It was Athena.
She stood to the left of the blonde woman in a thin, revealing outfit, looking quite pleased with herself no less.
The blonde woman reached out, and as she did, I noticed they weren't alone.
Sitting on a rock, his back to me and his attention entirely on the three women before him, was Paris.