Acheron
Acheron (Dark-Hunter #15)(5)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon
"Do you mean Estes?"
He nodded.
"He is your uncle, not your idikos."
"One doesn’t argue with a whip or scold, my lady. At least not for long."
I swallowed at his words. No, I guess they didn’t. "What did he tell you?"
"The king wanted me dead. I live only because the son he loves will die if I die."
"That’s not true. Father said he sent you away because he was afraid someone would try to hurt you. You are his heir."
Acheron kept his gaze on the floor. "Idikos says that I am an embarrassment to my family. Unfit to be with any of you. That’s why the king sent me away and told everyone I was dead. I’m only good for one thing."
I didn’t need him to tell me what that one thing was. "He lied to you." My heart broke with the weight of the truth. "Just as he’s been lying to me and to Father. He told us that you were healthy and happy. Well-schooled."
He laughed bitterly at that. "I am well-schooled, Idika. Believe me, I’m the best at what they trained me to do."
How could he find humor in that?
I looked away from him as the servant brought food to us. As I started to eat, I noticed Acheron hadn’t moved. He stared at the food before him with hunger in his eyes.
"Eat," I told him.
"You haven’t given me my portion, my lady."
"What do you mean?"
"You eat, and if I please you while you dine, you will determine how much food I’m to have."
"Please me how . . . no wait. Don’t answer that. I’m not sure I want to know." I sighed, then gestured to his platter and cup. "All of that is yours. You may eat as much or as little as you like."
He looked at it hesitantly, then glanced to the floor behind me.
It was then I understood why he’d knelt there. "You normally eat on the floor, don’t you?"
Like a dog or rodent.
He nodded. "If I’m particularly pleasing," he said softly. "Idikos will sometimes feed me from his hand."
My appetite left me at his words.
"Eat in peace, little brother," I said, my voice cracking from my unshed tears. "Eat as much as you want."
I sipped my wine, trying to settle my stomach and watched him eat his food. He had perfect manners and again it struck me how slowly he ate. How meticulously he moved.
Chapter 3
Every gesture was beautiful. Precise.
And it was designed to seduce.
He moved like a whore.
Closing my eyes, I wanted to scream at the injustice of this. He was firstborn. He was the one who should be heir to the throne and here he was . . .
How could they have done this to him?
And why?
Because his eyes were different? Because those eyes made people uncomfortable?
There was nothing threatening about this boy. He wasn’t like Styxx, who’d been known to have people locked up and beaten just because they offended him. One poor peasant had been beaten because he’d come to the palace without shoes on his feet. Shoes he couldn’t afford.
Acheron didn’t play pranks on me, or laugh at others. He didn’t judge anyone or make them feel small.
Rather, he merely sat there silently eating.
A family came in and sat at the table beside us. Acheron paused as he noticed the boy and girl. The boy was a few years younger than he and the girl probably his age.
By the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t seen a family sit down together before. He studied them curiously.
"May I speak, my lady?"
"Of course."
"Do you and Styxx sit down and eat with your parents like that?"
"They are your parents too."
He returned to his food without commenting.
"Yes," I said. "We sometimes dine with them like that." But Acheron never had. Even when he’d been at home with us, he’d been banned from the family table.
After that, he didn’t speak. Nor did he look at the family. He merely ate with those impeccable manners of his.
I choked down a few bites, but found I wasn’t very hungry after all.
I took us back to our quarters to wait for the driver to finish his rest and feeding the horses. It was nearing dusk and I wasn’t sure if we would continue to travel through the evening or not.
I sat down on the small chair and closed my eyes to rest. It had been a long day. I’d only arrived in Atlantis that morning and hadn’t anticipated so quick a return. Not to mention the undue stress of stealing my brother away from my uncle. At the moment, all I wanted was to sleep.
I felt Acheron in front of me.
Opening my eyes, I saw him nak*d again save for his bands.
I frowned at him. "What are you doing?"
"I owe you for my food and clothes, my lady." He knelt down at my feet and lifted the hem of my himation.
I bolted upright and grabbed his hand. "You don’t touch family like that, Acheron. It’s wrong."
Confusion creased his brow.
And then I knew the most horrid of truths. "Estes . . . does he . . . Do you . . ." I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
"I pay him every night for being kind enough to shelter me."
I’d never wanted to cry so much in my life and yet I found my eyes strangely dry-even as anger and disgust welled inside me over what had been done to my brother. Oh, if I could only lay hands to my uncle . . . "Put your clothes on, Acheron. I have no need of you to pay me for anything."
He left me and did as I asked.
For the rest of the evening, I watched him while he sat silently in the corner without moving even a single muscle. Obviously he’d been trained to do that, too. I walked my mind through the horrors of the day’s revelations.
Through the horror that must have been his life.
My poor Acheron.
I told him how glad father would be to welcome him home. How happy mother would be to see him again.
I told him stories of our palace and of how grand his room would be.
He listened silently while his eyes told me he didn’t believe a single word I spoke.
Whores don’t live in palaces.
I could hear his thoughts plainly.
And honestly, I was beginning to doubt those words myself.
November 4, 9532 BC
Acheron remained so silent for the rest of our journey to the docks that I began to worry. He didn’t look well. In fact, he was prone to break into a sweat and shake for no apparent reason. There was an awful ashen cast to his skin.
Whenever I asked if something was the matter, he would only say that it sometimes happened to him.
As we were around more people, he became more nervous.
"Estes won’t find you," I told him, hoping to alleviate his fear.
It didn’t work. If anything, he grew more apprehensive.
Boraxis returned with our tokens for the journey across the Aegean that would take us home to Didymos. I knew I wouldn’t truly stop being scared until the boat sailed.
At any moment, I was afraid my uncle would find us and take Acheron back.
It was just after midday that they allowed us to board the ship. Boraxis led the way with me in the middle and Acheron following.
The first mate took the tokens from Boraxis and gave him directions for our quarters, but as we walked past, he stopped Acheron.
"Lower your cowl."
I saw the panic in Acheron’s eyes before he complied. As soon as the material was lowered, I felt a strange almost wave-like sensation sweep through those who were near us. All eyes turned toward my brother.
The first mate shook his head and tsked at me. "My lady, we don’t allow slaves to travel on the main decks."
I gave him a withering stare. "He’s not a slave."
The first mate actually laughed at that. He reached to the band around Acheron’s throat and pulled at his pendant that held the symbol of a fiery sun.
Acheron didn’t move or speak. He merely kept his gaze lowered.
The first mate looked back at me. "I can appreciate your wanting to keep your tsoulus with you, my lady, but he’ll have to travel below deck with the other slaves."
It’d never occurred to me to have Acheron’s bands removed. In Greece, our slaves wore no gold whatsoever, so it hadn’t dawned on me that his would betray him.
"Nexus," the first mate called to another sailor. "Escort this one below deck."
Acheron’s panicked gaze held mine. "Please, Idika, don’t send me there. Alone. You can’t."
"I’ll pay more," I told the sailor.
"I’m sorry, my lady. It’s our strictest policy. The other passengers would be extremely upset if we broke the rules for you."
I felt horrible for him. "It’ll be all right, Acheron. It’s only a few days and we’ll be home."
My words only appeared to scare him more. But he said nothing else as Nexus came forward to lead him away from me.
Acheron replaced his cowl and glanced about nervously.
"He’ll be fine, Your Highness," Boraxis assured me. "His quarters won’t be refined, but they’ll be serviceable and clean."
And Boraxis would know. He had once been a slave before my father freed him.
"Thank you, Boraxis."
My heart heavy, I went to my quarters and wondered what Acheron would do for the next four days.
November 8, 9532 BC
I waited on the deck with bated breath for Acheron’s return. Over the last four days I’d tried my best to see him, but no one would allow it. Apparently the regular passengers weren’t allowed below decks anymore than the slaves were allowed above.
Almost everyone was gone now, even the sailors, while Boraxis and I waited.
At last, I saw Acheron appear. As he had on the day they’d taken him below, he had his cowl pulled low, his head bent down.
Not even a single glimpse of his body or face could be seen.
"There you are!" I said in joy at seeing him again.
He said nothing in return.
When I tried to embrace him, he shrugged me away. When I tried to meet his gaze, he moved past me.
His actions irritated me. Was this the thanks I received for saving him from the madness of my uncle’s home? Surely as bare as the slaves’ quarters had been, they were preferable to being mauled by others.
"Don’t be so petulant, Acheron. I had no choice."
Still he spoke no words.
I wanted to shake him. This was the first time his behavior reminded me of Styxx. "What is wrong with you? Answer me!"
"I want to go home."
I was completely flabbergasted by his whispered request that was tinged with anger.
"Are you mad? Why would you ever want to return to Atlantis?"
He didn’t respond.
Sighing in frustration, I led him from the deck. Once we were on the docks, Boraxis went to procure us a closed herio for the journey home.
Still Acheron remained silent. He didn’t look around or show any interest at all in the fact that he was safe from Estes’s clutches.
"We’re in Greece now. Not too far from home."
When he made no response, I sighed and was grateful to see a herio drawing near us. Maybe that would cheer his malaise.
As it stopped before us, a nobleman hailed me.
"My lord?" I asked as he drew near. He wasn’t much older than I. His clothes and bearing said that he was extremely well to do, though I didn’t recognize him as an aristocrat or dignitary.
He barely looked at me. It was Acheron who held his attention, Acheron who shrank away from the man. "Is he yours, my lady?"
I hesitated at answering that. "Why do you wish to know?"
"I want to buy him. Name your price and I’ll pay it."
Anger cut through me. "He’s not for sale."
The man finally met my gaze. I swear I saw madness in his blue eyes. "I’ll pay anything you wish for him."
Boraxis rejoined us and frowned a stern warning at the man. "Get in the herio, Acheron."
Acheron didn’t speak as he quickly climbed inside.
When I tried to join him, the man actually stopped me. "Please, my lady. I have to have him. I’ll give you anything you wish."
Boraxis forced the man aside.
I climbed into the herio all the while the man continued to try to bribe me.
"I can’t believe this," I mumbled. "Does this happen often?"
"Yes." Acheron’s response was barely more than a whisper.
Boraxis secured our door. "I shall ride with the driver, my lady." He handed me a wineskin and what felt like bread wrapped in cloth. "If you need anything, call for me."
"Thank you, Boraxis."
He nodded, then climbed up on the seat outside.
Having eaten a large breakfast on the ship, I wasn’t hungry. I could feel Acheron’s stare, but he still kept himself covered by his cloak. "Would you care for a bite?" I asked, handing the food to Acheron.
As the herio started forward, he tore into the cloth like a starved animal. It wasn’t until he moved to eat that I finally saw a glimpse of his forearm.
There was blood encrusted around the gold band on his wrist. But he didn’t seem to notice as he shoved chunks of bread into his mouth.
"Are you all right, Acheron?"
He only continued to eat ravenously.
When the bread was gone, he attacked the wineskin with the same fervor. It was several minutes before he lowered the skin and let out what sounded like a relieved breath.
I reached for his injured arm.
He didn’t move as I sat forward and pulled the band back to uncover a nasty wound there. As I looked at his bloodied wrist, I noticed more bruises on his forearm.