Thirty-Two
Boats were not fun.
I had hoped that I would have grown accustomed to the constant, unsteady rocking, but that was not the case. Almost as soon as we pushed away from the shore, my stomach was as unsteady as the floor beneath my feet. Though the weather was kind, the sun was unencumbered by clouds for the bulk of the trip, adding an extra layer of discomfort. I clung to the side of the boat most of the time, heaving up everything in my stomach and then some. The sea, as gorgeous and pristine as it was, was nauseating. At one point, Paris dangled some fruit in front of me, and I wanted to throttle him. He'd looked so startled by my biting reaction that, after, he sent Zoisme with bread and water for me to eat.
While I was incapacitated, Paris was having the time of his life. Apparently, it didn't matter that he'd never left Troy, had never stepped foot on a boat before. Nor the fact that he drank a portion of the sea in wine, yet still had steady footing. He wasn't clinging to the boat and heaving up his entire insides. He was eager to draw this trip out as long as possible. I counted down every second until we docked in Greece.
Hector had told us the boat ride would take a few days, each night docking at a nearby island. The land portion of our travels would take a few days more, and I gathered it would be slow going with stops throughout the night.
After our initial confrontation Hector ignored me, but I knew he was always aware of where I was. I don't think he was quite able to figure out what I was doing on the ship or what my plans were when we arrived in Greece. Perhaps he just thought I was a crazy, obsessed woman who didn't want Paris out of my sight. Or that I was a spy. Or, perhaps, he just didn't like me. It was the last one. Definitely.
I rested my chin on the side of the boat and stared at the crisp, clear waters of the Aegean Sea. There was a lull in the wind, so our boat drifted lazily across the sea, my stomach settling like the water around us. Zoisme had wandered off to fetch me some more water and something dry to eat, while Hector and Paris were sparring. More like Hector was sparring while Paris tried, and failed, to beat his older brother. At least Hector was going easier on his brother. They trained every chance they could spare. Paris had grown significantly more confident, but he was still no match for the heroic Hector.
I had a feeling Hector was starting to like having a weaker brother. It only made him look stronger. Maybe he was trying to show off by sparring Paris now. Whatever the case, Hector was a drill sergeant.
But Paris wasn't the only one he was training.
When I wasn't throwing up or trying to keep food and water down, I was watching the two princes. At first I tried to be casual about it, not wanting anyone to ask why I was watching. Eventually, I realized that no one bothered me anyway, and if the men were looking my way, they didn't care what I was doing. They just cared that there was something else to watch than the horizon. So, I studied the way Hector moved, where he put his feet, how he swung his sword. Paris moved slower, but sheer determination kept him upright and almost on par with Hector. At night, in my tent where I was completely alone, I mirrored what I'd seen. I didn't have a sword nor did I have a solid grasp of what I was doing, but it was better than nothing.
Aside from the gentle ripples in the water, it was like looking into a mirror. My beautifully curled hair had long since turned into a frizzy nest, and my clothes were now a second layer of skin, suctioned to my body. My face was bright pink from sunburn, though the aloe vera had helped ease the heat. Paris had insisted I'd looked beautiful, but I doubted his words upon looking at my reflection.
"How are you feeling?"
Zoisme sat down next to me, passing me a fresh cup of water and a damp cloth. The cool relief from the cloth was a welcome relief, even if fleeting.
"I've been better," I sighed, wincing at the tangy taste lingering on my tongue. I swished some water around my mouth and spat it into the ocean. "What I wouldn't give for some mouthwash right about now."
I thought I'd said it quietly, but Zoisme's brow wrinkled curiously. I swallowed more water and waved it off.
"Nevermind. It's fine. Cool. Now I know that boats and I do not mix. Had to learn the hard way, but here we are."
I shrugged. The two princes rested, Paris wiping his brow with a cloth, while Hector massaged his shoulder. Zoisme knelt beside me like a vigilant guard. Since the first night on the first island, she hovered close, her attentiveness clear with her feelings for me.
"You have been watching them all day," she said,
"Like you said, women have to be smarter and more cunning."
"Observing them won't make a difference."
I shrugged, fingers tapping against the cup. "It's not like I have much choice. Hector won't train me, which means no one on this ship will, including Paris." Paris had been distant lately, following Hector like a lost puppy. And when he did find me, the visits were distracted and brief.
I felt something cool and damp press against my neck. I was so consumed by my thoughts I hadn't even noticed that I dropped the cloth. Paris crouched before me, pressing the cloth gently against my skin. It was tender; my cheeks probably turned fifty shades of red. To hide my embarrassment, I snatched the cloth from him, wringing it nervously in my hands. His response was a warm chuckle.
"We're almost there," he said, leaning against the railing. He pointed with a slender finger to a dark blob on the horizon. "That's Greece, isn't it lovely?"
"It's the most glorious thing I've seen," I grinned, "I am never stepping off land again."
"How do you expect to return home?" Paris laughed. My smile slid down to the depths of the ocean. When he noticed, he frowned and cupped my cheeks. I wanted to pull away, my whole body screamed at me to move, but I couldn't. "Alexis, do you mean not to return to Troy?"
Secrets were tricky things, building and building and building until it was difficult to keep them.
"Are you excited to see Sparta?" I asked, pushing his hand away. His chocolate brown eyes were almost as dangerous as actual chocolate. "I hear they're fierce warriors."
"And the women are allowed to fight," he said after a moment. If he suspected I was learning to defend myself he did a good job hiding it. "I think you'd make a fierce warrior, Alexis."
"Pft, me? Yeah, right," I sighed. "I'm all soft and scared of spiders, for crying out loud. I doubt warriors are scared of spiders." Paris raised his eyebrows with a lop-sided smile. "I think, though, you would make a fine warrior."
The words had slipped out so quickly I didn't realize I'd spoken them until Paris glanced over at Hector. His brother was speaking with the ship's captain while polishing his sword.
"He doesn't think I've got what it takes. He claims I'm weak, even though I have pretty good aim with a bow and arrow."
Overhead a black bird circled us silently. Its shadow breezed across the deck as the bird shot to the shore. To our right, dark clouds promised a storm—one I hoped wouldn't hit until we docked.
My chest tightened. While there were some comforting words I should say, I couldn't find them. Instead, one of the crew called out to inform us that land was upon us, ending our conversation. Paris pulled away from me to help prepare the boat to dock. Zoisme came back with another cup which I clutched. I watched him from my perch, my chest tight. Then I saw Hector watching me from across the boat, his beefy arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.
"Prince Hector really does not like you," Zoisme said, stating the obvious.
"No... no he doesn't," I muttered.
I scrunched my nose at him as the blob formed into a chunk of land. The dark shadow shifted into jagged tops, white, sandy beaches and green hills. It reminded me a lot of Troy that first day I woke on the beach.
Suddenly the boat lurched forward with a pained groan, throwing everyone off balance. It felt like it had hit something. The wind hit sudden and fast, the ship rocking. Curious, I glanced down at the waters in time to see a big shadow swim underneath the boat. I'm talking gigantic, like bigger than any whale shark in our world. Whatever it was, if it was part of this world, it was an ominous sign.
My heart leapt into my throat, blocking the words I felt trying to push their way out as I stumbled away from the edge and straight into Hector's tree-trunk arms. His severe look made me stiffen, and he pressed a finger against his lips to signal silence. Zoisme eased her way back away from the boat, muscles coiled, her eyes searching for a threat. Paris stood in the middle of the boat like a deer frozen by fear and expecting something to jump out at any second. The rest of the boat had fallen silent. The only sound was the flapping of the masts and the gentle sloshing of water against the boat.
"Maybe it's gone?"
The words were barely out of my mouth when it happened.
To our left, something large and angry burst through the glassy waters, and large, jagged shards of water raining down on the boat. Hector pushed me into Paris and grabbed his sword as the large creature roared. It resembled a serpent with black, scaly skin and piercing yellow eyes. The only difference was that this one had fins and gills. And, on its back, stood a man with a glorious, black beard, and muscles that would put a Marvel movie star to shame. He held a golden trident in his left hand like the king of the ocean he was. Well, that was a dead giveaway, though I had not expected to see him show up.
Poseidon, the god of the sea.
"Leviathan!" Hector called out.
"Hello, Alexis, my dear," the god grinned. All heads swivelled to me. I shrunk back, the smooth wood of the railing pressing against my back. Hector's look was so piercing that, even though I struggled to ignore him, his eyes burned into me, leaving pink, raw scars. "Did you really think this trip would be so easy? I couldn't help pass up the opportunity to get involved in this game my brother designed for you."
I wish I'd know I was going to be so popular with all the gods. Then I could have prepared myself for all their yammering. Though, the attention they placed on me was surprising. Being from another time was obvious, but I was just a girl among many, many people.
The creature roared again and lashed out, catching the masts with its tail. A spray of wood and water rained down on us, and as Paris straightened us, Hector was suddenly in front of us.
"You are cursed by the gods?" Hector spat.
Cursed was one way to put it. I shrank into Paris as the older prince grabbed my arm and dragged me towards Poseidon.
"Hector, don't!"
"We don't want any trouble, glorious Poseidon, king of the sea," Hector said, ignoring his brother. He pushed me forward, and this close to the serpent, I saw the glistening water that slid down its belly. "We are just trying to get to Sparta. If it's the girl you want, then please take her and leave us in peace."
"You're an idiot," I snapped, rounding on him. "He's not just going to let you go away peacefully. Don't you know anything about the gods?"
"I knew there was something about you," Hector said, "you were sent by the gods to toy with us... to toy with Paris." I glanced at Paris. When our eyes met, he frowned, gaze falling to the floor. "Take her back and let us leave, please."
"Sorry, that's not the deal," Poseidon sighed, "I know what Aphrodite promised you, Alexis, and while it is admirable, what's a game without a little conflict? You're not quite ready to go home yet."
My head snapped up. What did he mean by that?
With a growl, the leviathan lashed out, this time aiming for me.
Time slowed. I saw the yellow stains, the chunks of old meals wedged between its shark-like teeth... gag. I couldn't really go anywhere without it catching me.
Something hard knocked into me. My foot caught on the hem of my dress and I landed heavily, my elbow bouncing off the floor. The searing pain made me tense. Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up and saw Paris thrust his sword upwards, catching the leviathan in the mouth. The serpent's teeth pierced through his shoulder and the prince staggered, gritting his teeth as he tried to pull the sword out of the monster.
I heard someone screaming his name, only to realize it was coming from me as Hector surged forward to help his brother. My vision narrowed on Paris huddled against the side of the boat, clutching his arm and shielding himself from the serpent's rage. Our eyes met and a sob caught in my throat. The boat rocked dangerously, throwing some of the crew and goods off the side.
In all the commotion, Poseidon had disappeared, but the leviathan was still putting up a fight. Hector slashed and fought like the hero he was born to be. I crawled towards Paris, wincing at the sight of his bloodied shoulder. It dripped onto the wooden floor, mixing with water to create a pink pool. We were so close to shore, yet it felt miles away.
Hector slashed at the serpent, hitting it hard enough that it shrieked in pain and disappeared under the surface. For a moment, the sea fell still again, but I had a feeling the serpent wasn't gone. We needed to get to shore and fast.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, pressing a hand against Paris's shoulder to stop the bleeding. He grunted, his pale face etched with pain. Zoisme crouched on the other side of him, tearing a discarded cloth into bandages. "I didn't know this was going to happen."
"It's okay," he whispered.
"It's not." Hector yanked me away from Paris and pulled me close. His look was murderous, his hand like iron around my arm. When I squirmed, he squeezed tighter. "You doomed us all with your curse! If we make it to Greece in one piece, you will leave us and take the curse with you."
"Let her go," Zoisme growled.
When she lunged at us, the docile slave was gone. Her muscles were coiled, her ivory teeth bared, like a fierce lioness. She was quick but Hector had mass on his side. He batted her away like she was a nuisance mosquito. She slammed into the side of the boat and collapsed, falling still. My heart skipped a beat. Don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead.
"Hector, don't," Paris groaned. He tried to sit up but slumped back, hissing in pain.
"No excuses," Hector snapped. "You are a prince of Ilios and cannot afford to be distracted by the likes of her. You let yourself get hurt because your love for her blinded you."
The boat jolted forward before Paris could argue, even though no one was manning the oars. The masts were broken, but it didn't matter. We were moving quickly towards Greece. Behind us, I saw the ripple of water again and knew that the serpent was pursuing us. I didn't need to see her, to know that Aphrodite was behind this bout of good luck.
"Looks like some of the gods are on our side, brother," Paris pointed out with a tight voice. He struggled to his feet, and even though he could barely stand, he looked regal and formidable. "I will not let you abandon her because you are scared of what the gods might do. If Alexis has made enemies from the gods, she might have allies too, and they will protect her and us if necessary." He waved his hand at the boat. "If you don't believe me, then who's pushing us towards the shore?"
Hector glared at his younger brother and then at me. "Then she's your responsibility. If anything happens because of her, it's your fault, brother. Pray to the gods that we make it to Greece in one piece and stay out of my way, girl."
"Gladly," I said with an eye roll.
As Hector and what was left of his crew hurried to prepare for landing, I checked on Zoisme. Relief flooded through me when I felt her warm breath against my fingers. She was alive.
I grabbed a piece of cloth she'd ripped up and pressed it against Paris's shoulder. It was still bleeding badly, but what he did had been the furthest thing from cowardly. "You saved me..."
"I couldn't let that thing eat you," Paris smiled, resting a hand on mine. "Are you alright?"
I licked my lips, forcing my eyes to stay on his shoulder, but I couldn't hide the blush that crept along my cheeks. "I should be asking you that... but yes, I'm okay, thanks to you." I peeked up at him shyly. "I don't even know how I could ever repay you..."
"A kiss might do the trick," he said. His hand moved up to my cheek and, before I could argue, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.