Food for the Gods Cammille Anthony -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Silk's Vault Publishing LLC www.silksvault.com Copyright ©2006 by Camille Anthony First published in 2006 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Food for the Gods By Camille Anthony A Silk's Vault Electronic Publication, in arrangement with author Camille Anthony. ISBN # 1-934055-71-9 Copyright © 2006 by Camille Anthony Cover Design and Art by Carmel St. James, © Copyright 2006 Edited by Peggy Roberts Silk's Vault Publishing www.silksvault.com All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in part or whole, in any form or by any means, without permission from both the author and publisher. All characters, incidents, situations, institutions, governments and people are fictional and any similarity to characters or persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. CHAPTER ONE Daphne Eresteou stumbled through the corridors of the palace, the remains of her ragged thola clutched to her breasts. The bloody slashes crisscrossing her back burned with each jarring step. Despite her desperate attempts at holding them in, tears threatened. Low sobs—trapped behind tight lips—fought to escape. She wouldn't cry. No way would she give those vultures the joy of witnessing that final humiliation. She couldn't bear the thought of having their avid eyes staring in delighted amusement at her emotional breakdown. Great Poseidon, what have I done to deserve this? She wondered for the umpteenth time. I never treated anyone thusly when I ruled here. Noble or servant, I tried my best to be fair and even-handed with all. After what seemed like hours, but had only been a few minutes, Daphne gained the opening of her humble room, desperate for its promise of privacy. The thin pallet in the corner of the tiny room had never looked so welcoming, but she eyed the low sleeping arrangement with a jaundiced eye, worrying over how she was going to achieve getting down there when every movement awoke the agony in her back, the pain spiking each time she so much as breathed, let alone moved. Nearing the end of her endurance, she decided the intervening pain was worth the reward of getting off her unsteady feet. She started down slowly, gingerly easing to her knees before lowering her aching body to the coarse sheets. Once down, Daphne panted and tried to relax, her control as shredded as her back. She shifted, trying to make her sore body as comfortable as possible—what a mistake. "By the Gods!” A hiss of pain escaped her lips as tears leaked from her eyes. A wadded fold of blanket found its way into her mouth in an attempt to muffle her anguished cries. "I should have died along with my father!” Her hoarse moan held the ache of all she'd endured in the three years since losing her beloved parent and King. Curled on the thin, makeshift bed, she wanted to cease struggling and just give up. Tonight, she felt all her fragile hope fading, becoming finally, totally ashes under Ordana's dainty feet. "Shame on you, mistress. How dare you even whisper such abomination when you know the Gods hear everything?" The soft, tentative touch accompanying the quietly spoken words caused Daphne to rear in startlement. Immediately, a groan slipped through gritted teeth at the new explosion of pain. Every movement was a reminder of the cruelty she now dealt with on a daily basis. "Let them hear,” she grated, recklessly tossing her challenge to the Gods. “What more can they do to me that hasn't been done? She has branded me a whore and a lackwit ... a clumsy one, at that.” Daphne rolled her neck to catch the other woman's eyes as she narrowed her own. "Every one knows I remain solitary and alone, kept from any men lest I breed a rival for the throne. Do you know how lonely I get? How much I want a family and children of my own. If there were eligible males around, her accusations might have been true. I'd mate with anyone just for the sake of escaping this prison." The servant sighed, never ceasing her soothing healing attention to the shredded flesh of her deposed Princess’ back. “You don't mean that." "Oh, yes I do! With the Sea as my witness, I swear I'd ride the waves themselves if it would get me free of Ordana's filthy presence." The maid slapped one of her hands across her mistress’ still moving lips. “Poseidon, forgive her impertinence, she knows not what she asks for." Bending over to whisper urgently into her charge's ear, she hissed, “Mistress, to call upon the waves is unwise and foolhardy. Everyone knows the sons of Poseidon are fierce lovers with saltwater in their veins. The three share one soul between them ... and usually one woman. You—an untried kore—would be split apart by such great beings." Daphne frowned, unsure what her servant was saying. “They kill the women they take?" The servant blushed. “That was a manner of speaking. The God's are built on a larger scale than we mortals are—so are their male organs. Yes, your cousin's accusations were unjust and the lashing harsh, but there are other punishments a young, beautiful kore might face that are more apt to make you long for death. Thank the Gods she cannot quite bring herself to subject you to those ... yet. Princess Ordana has no right to treat you thusly, and some day—I pray soon—the Gods will punish her for her lack of familial love." Daphne came up on one elbow, her wondering gaze trained on the woman who worked on her back so gently. Grateful tears—so long held at bay—flooded down her cheeks. “Thank you, Terena, for your comfort. I don't know why you and the other servants treat me so well when I know Ordana has threatened to you punish you all for behaving toward me with honor. Why do you all continue to help me?” Her face twisted in self-disgust. “More to the point, how could I go on without you? Behold me in this humble state..." "Oh, my dear Princess, we sorrow when we look upon you.” Hands shaking, the servant wiped away Daphne's tears before helping her ease back down to the pallet. "We remember how it was. In your service, we were never mistreated, never looked down upon. It was our pleasure to serve you and our good King.” With a fearful glance toward the door, Terena lowered her head and her voice to whisper in Daphne's ear. “Several of us have gone to Poseidon's temple. We've left gifts and promises of more, if only he would hear our plea and right the wrongs done to you." Daphne snorted. “I fear our patron God has long abandoned us. It has been so long since last we had a visitation..." "Not since before your father, the King, died,” Terena nodded, “but some say he has abandoned us because the new King shuns him, having done away with the temple rites. Still, we have to believe Poseidon continues to hear the pleas of those faithful to him." Lying prone, Daphne twisted her neck to lock gazes with the trusting servant. “On days like this, I find it very hard to hold on to belief." "Faith is not always easy, but it is its own reward.” She reached under her thola and produced a roll of parchment and a quill. “Here, why not record the day's events in your journal. It always seems to make you calmer." Daphne's heart stumbled. A chill of fear raced through her, icing her veins. Pain forgotten, she shot to a seated position and snatched the roll out of Terena's hands. "Where did you find this?” If even a hint of its existence leaked to the King or to Ordana, Daphne knew her life would be in jeopardy. "Be at peace, Princess. We found it long ago. Every morning, one of us always sneaks it from your room and returns it each night before you return. We know she has spies check through your things on a daily basis. We take it and pass it among us, keeping it safe for you. It is the least we can do." New tears fell from Daphne's eyes, as she gazed down at her journal and then over at the woman—a symbol of those willing to endanger their livelihood and their very lives for her. “Thank you,” her voice broke on the words, “and thank the others for me. I am not worthy of your loyalty." Terena smiled, patting her hand. “You are worth all that and more. Never forget we love you. In our hearts, you will always be our Princess." Dear Journal: I don't know what I'd do without this outlet. Life is so strange now. No longer the royal Princess, I'm forced to do the bidding of my cousin, Ordana—now ascended to my old position. It's not that I begrudge her the titles and honors, nor do I mind being a simple kore—a servant girl, serving where once I was served. The Gods above know I have no care for that, but oh, I miss my father so terribly. He was never King Erestes to me, though he demanded respect at all times. He was Father and friend, the only parent since mother died giving me life, the only one who saw the real me under the trappings of royalty. If only he'd been sick, suffered some lingering illness, I'd have had more time to get used to the idea of losing him... CHAPTER TWO Dear Journal: In the year since I began keeping this record, I usually record only my thoughts, feelings, and memories upon these parchments, but today I overheard something in the town, something sinister and frightening... I was walking through the busy marketplace, anxious to complete my chores so I could have the rest of the day to myself, when two shopkeepers greeted each other—raising their voices over the general babble. "Ho, Ternichius, how goes your business?" "As slow as always under the severe taxing by King Menaeos, my friend,” the other man replied. “How else could it be?" "Ah, if only good King Erestes ...
widez2