P. C. Cast - Goddess Summoning 06, page 21
“Hey, twenty-nine is not old. You’re still really young.”
“I haven’t been young for more than a decade.”
Kat looked up at him, knowing that the deep scars that had prematurely aged his face had also taken a similar toll on his soul. “Maybe some of that can be reversed,” she said.
Obviously noting the direction of her gaze his lips lifted and he said, “Your friend is an excellent healer, but even she cannot reverse these.” Achilles pointed at his facial scars.
Kat grinned. “Was that a joke? And the sky didn’t fall in, nor did you get struck by lightning.”
“It’s your bad influence on me.”
“Don’t you mean the fact that I’ve bespelled you? Remember, Jacky’s a witch—I’m a witch—everywhere a witch—witch.”
“I stand corrected. You have bespelled me.” Then he surprised her by pulling her, briefly, into his arms and hugging her hard. “And we are here.” Achilles took her by the shoulders and turned Kat around.
“Achilles! It’s beautiful!” Kat was facing an oasis. Willows ringed a basin formed by butter-colored limestone. A stream dumped into the basin, filled it and then gurgled out the other side. It was small, but definitely big enough for someone to bathe comfortably in. Overlooking the oasis was a small temple that reminded Kat of a gazebo, only this one was made of marble with graceful columns and a domed roof. In the middle of the temple a blanket had been spread out. Atop it sat a laden basket. “What’s all this?” Kat asked, walking around the pool to the temple.
“It’s a shrine dedicated to Venus. I discovered it years ago. It’s been abandoned because of the war. I’ve come here many times to think—to get away.”
Kat glanced back at him, surprised to see that he looked embarrassed. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone needs time alone.”
“Ah, but Achilles, terror of maidens and battlefield berserker, is not everyone. If my men knew I found solace at a shrine dedicated to the Goddess of Love.” He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “They would probably begin to believe that I had finally gone mad.”
“But they seem to have accepted me being with you just fine. Haven’t they?”
Achilles shrugged. “Right now they are too preoccupied to even be shocked by you warming my bed.”
“They want to fight,” Kat said, her stomach clenching.
“They do.”
“And what do you want?”
“You already know my heart. I long for nothing as much as to return to Phthia and to find peace.” Achilles paused, meeting her gaze before he continued. “And love.”
“You’ve already found love,” Kat said softly.
Achilles closed the distance between them, joining her in the middle of Venus’s shrine. He took her hand. “Have I found love? Even though we don’t know that the berserker can be defeated?”
“Yes, you have. And the berserker can be defeated; I know it.” Slowly and deliberately, Kat rose on her tiptoes, while pulling him gently down to her. She kissed him softly. She didn’t linger or deepen the kiss, but she also didn’t make a frightened rush to get away. The kiss was her promise to him that the future he’d dreamed could be real. But she didn’t push it—she didn’t push him. Smiling, Kat looked down at the basket. “If this shrine has been abandoned for years, how did this get here?”
“Your wish to bathe reminded me of this place. While you slept today I brought these things out here. I thought you might enjoy getting away together.” He said the words with his usual gruff confidence, but Kat could see the question in his eyes. One sign of fear or hesitation in her would undo him.
“You were absolutely right—it’s a great idea.”
He smiled and bowed with exaggerated formality. “Your bath awaits, Princess, and then we shall dine on whatever I frightened Aetnia into packing.”
Kat shook her head at him. “It’s probably a couple arsenic sandwiches with a side dish of glass stew.” Then she glanced down at the clear pool of water and her throat suddenly felt dry. “Have you checked it to be sure that there aren’t any slimy things in there that might be waiting to eat me?”
“Would the word of a sea goddess reassure you?”
Surprised, Kat looked around the little tree-lined oasis. “Is your mom here?”
“She came with me earlier today and made quite certain everything was safe for you.”
“I’ve got to quit sleeping so much. I miss everything.” Kat took a step closer to the water. It did look harmless and utterly inviting. And it would be so good to get completely clean.
Achilles cleared his throat. She met his eyes.
“I’ll be here, with my back turned while you bathe. You need only call out to me and I can be by your side in an instant.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if you kept an eye on me? What if something grabs me and I can’t call out to you.” Kat watched the different emotions play across his face: desire and fear and need. When she realized fear was winning out, she said, “Why is it that the berserker doesn’t possess you when you argue with Agamemnon? Doesn’t he make you terribly angry?”
He looked surprised at her question, but answered readily enough. “Of course he does. The old bastard rarely fails to anger me.”
“Then why doesn’t the berserker possess you?” she asked again.
Achilles shrugged. “I suppose because I’ve grown accustomed to how he makes me feel. I tell myself it’s just Agamemnon, and the king is not a battle I am allowed to fight.”
“Then why not tell yourself that I am just Katrina, the woman you desire. This is the way I make you feel, and I am not a battle you are allowed to fight.”
She saw hope flare and then die in his eyes. Achilles shook his head. “No. It is not the same thing.”
“It could be if you believed it was.”
He kept shaking his head. “No. I will not chance it.”
“Well, I will. Listen—you have warning before the berserker possesses you, don’t you?”
“Some,” he said reluctantly.
“Okay. It’s simple then. You sit down up there. Make yourself comfortable. There’s wine in that basket, right?”
"Yes.”
“Drink it and relax. I’ll bathe. You keep an eye on me to be sure nothing stings me senseless.” She held up her hand when he opened his mouth. “Yes, I know. Jacky says I’m already lacking sense.” His lips twitched. “You really shouldn’t listen to her.”
“At this moment her observations seem very insightful,” Achilles said.
She frowned at him in mock severity. “Whatever you do, don’t ever tell her that. So, you sit up there. I’ll bathe. Everything will be just fine.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“If you start to look crazy I’ll use my panic button.” She lifted the locket that still hung around her neck.
He looked doubtful. “Venus might be busy.”
“Nah, she gave me her word. Plus she is one seriously nosy goddess. She’ll be here, even if it’s just to gather gossip.” Kat walked the few steps back to him and put her hand gently on his arm. “Here’s the deal. You need to believe in yourself and in your ability to keep me safe as much as I believe in you.”
“You believe I can keep you safe?”
Kat smiled into his scarred, life-battered face. “Of course I do. You have kept me safe.” She kissed him softly on the cheek then started determinedly toward her waiting bath, crossing her fingers in front of her and sending up a silent prayer to Venus, If you have to watch, maybe now would be a good time…
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
What in the holy hell had she been thinking? Kat tried not to hesitate too long while she frantically decided how best to take off her clothes without seeming too enticing, and yet also not seeming like she was scared shitless and bolting for the concealing water.
Concealing water? Kat squinted down at the clear little pool. Where were algae and a good dose of clouding pollution when you needed them? Get if over with, Katrina, she ordered herself. She pulled off the light green silk outer robe that had replaced the new blue one the gross sea things had ruined. Her underrobes were soft layers of eggshell silk. Kat let them fall around her feet. She hadn’t really thought about the fact that neither panties nor a bra had come with any of her outfits—until then. Just remind yourself that you’re glad he’s looking at this tight young little body, versus your pushing forty-year-old, needing to lose fifteen pounds and take your flabby butt to the gym body.
Kat tried for regal looking as, naked, she stepped into the pool, bracing herself for what she expected to be freezing cold water. But at the first touch of the tepid pool she felt a shiver of delight and, with a happy sigh, submerged herself. Only then did she look up at Achilles. “Hey! It’s not cold.”
He had done as she’d instructed and was sitting, in a semirelaxed manner, on the blanket, leaning against one of the marble pillars. He had an uncorked wineskin in his lap. She thought he looked a little tense, but other than that completely himself.
“It’s too shallow to be cold, at least this time of the year. The sun warms it and the willows shade it, keeping the water a perfect temperature.” As he spoke she noticed he kept his eyes on hers, not allowing his gaze to travel down to her body, which the water did little to conceal. “When I first discovered this shrine I thought the pool must have been why it was built and then dedicated to Venus.” Achilles smiled a little sheepishly. “Seems a perfect place for a goddess to bathe.”
Kat grinned. “Why, Achilles, I do believe you are a closet romantic.”
He snorted. “I am no type of romantic.”
“Ha! You left a flower on my pillow. I would call that evidence exhibit number one of romanticism.”
He took a long drink of wine and then said, “How do you know I left it?”
“Oh, that’s right. It must have been Aetnia—or maybe Briseis. Both of them just love hanging out in your tent.”
He snorted again and tried, unsuccessfully, to cover his laughter.
“Exhibit number two is that picnic basket full of goodies for me.”
“This basket?” He pawed around inside it and pulled out a piece of cheese wrapped in flatbread. He took a big bite and around his full mouth said, “This basket is for me, not you.”
“Sure it is,” she said, scrubbing the bottom of her foot with a handful of sand. “Romantic evidence exhibit three is that blanket.”
“And why is that romantic?”
“Because you don’t want me to get my delicate skin dirty.” She lifted her other foot, the bottom of which was still dirty, and waggled her toes at him.
His laughter was free and easy. She thought it was the most wonderful sound she had ever heard. “The blanket is for me, too.”
“Oh, yeah. Because I know how obsessed you are with comfort and relaxation.”
He exaggerated a long stretch, causing it to be her turn to laugh.
“Hey, speaking of comfort, I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I like the tapestries in your tent. Are they of a particular place or just random scenery?”
“They’re all of Phthia. It gives me a sense of home to be surrounded by them.”
“Phthia must be very beautiful,” she said, scrubbing her hair and wishing she had her favorite shampoo and conditioner.
Achilles’ faint smile was wistful. “It is, indeed. Someday I would like to take you there.”
“I’d like that, too.” She paused and then decided she might as well ask him. “Achilles, why don’t you just take your Myrmidons and leave now? You’ve withdrawn from the fighting. You’ve broken with Agamemnon. Why stay?”
“I’ve thought of it. If it were just me, or even just you and me, I would. But my men are Greeks. Phthia is a part of Greece. It would go hard on them and their families should they return before the war is over.” He shook his head. “No, we stay until the end—whether we fight or not.”
“What are you going to do if the Greeks lose?”
“Go home.”
“And if they win?”
His lips twitched. “Go home.”
“So it doesn’t really matter to you who wins or loses?”
“It does matter. I don’t want Greeks to die. But Agamemnon and Menelaus are responsible for that. I am only responsible for the deaths of my own men. Hopefully I will not lose one more Myrmidon.” He paused before continuing. “I should not have come to Troy. I only did so because I believed my fate could not be changed, and because Odysseus asked it of me.”
“And now you believe your fate can be changed.” She didn’t phrase it like a question but he nodded.
“Now I believe many things I didn’t just days ago.”
Kat smiled at him and then dunked her head completely under the water. When she surfaced, shaking water from her hair and sputtering, Achilles was looking relaxed and content.
She studied him carefully for a moment, and then decided it was time for her to get out of the water, and time for their relationship to move forward another step.
“Achilles, do you still desire me?”
He blinked, obviously surprised by her question. “Yes. Of course.”
“But there you are, relaxed and chatting with me. And here I am, naked.”
His brows went up. “That is true.”
“And, unless I’m wildly mistaken, there is no berserker possession going on—or even imminent.”
“That is not something easy to be mistaken about. No, there is no berserker here.”
“Or even close?”
“Not close, either.”
“So you think I can get out of this pool and come up there with you?”
Kat saw him swallow hard. “Naked?” he asked.
She smiled. “Actually I was planning on asking you for the blanket until I dry.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” He looked embarrassed, which Kat thought was a huge improvement over him looking stony faced and emotionless or scarlet eyed and completely crazy.
When he made no further move, she said, “Could you bring me the blanket?”
She’d rarely seen him awkward. Even at rest he had a warrior’s feral grace, but when he jumped up and gathered the blanket he definitely gave off a bull in the china shop vibe and Kat had to bite the side of her cheek to keep from laughing.
She stood up and walked out of the water. His gaze never left her eyes, even when he opened the blanket for her and she stepped, naked and dripping, into his arms. Kat felt a tremor go through his body as his arms closed around her. Kat stepped back and smiled at him as if he saw her naked every day. The struggle on his face was obvious. There were no signs of the berserker, but Achilles was no longer relaxed, and she understood if his relaxation level continued to decline and his stress level to rise, she was, quite literally, flirting with danger.
“Tell me a story,” she said.
His face was a question mark. “A story?”
“Yeah.” The hand that wasn’t clutching the blanket around her took his, and she pulled him up toward the shrine and the waiting picnic basket. “Tell me a story about your childhood while we eat. Something back in Phthia.” She gave him a mischievous look over her shoulder. “Something not flattering.”
His snort sounded amused. “What if I was the perfect child and I did nothing that was not flattering.”
“Then I’ll eat the basket instead of the lunch you bullied Aetnia into packing.” Kat sat beside the basket, arranging her blanket around her and wringing out her wet hair before checking out the food. “Yum! Cheese, meat, olives and wine. All of my favorite food groups—fat and booze and salt.” Achilles had taken his position next to her, leaning against the pillar again and making an obvious attempt to relax and not stare at her bare shoulders. She handed him some bread and meat. “Good thing this body is so young. Less chance all this cheese will go to my butt—or at least not immediately.”
“Back in your time you aren’t young?”
Kat looked up from the food to him. Achilles didn’t look shocked or upset at the idea of her being old, just curious. She smiled. “Back in my time I’m almost a decade older than you.”
He did look shocked then. “You left your husband and children to come here?”
“Oh, god no. I’ve never been married and I definitely don’t have any kids.”
“Did you take vows of chastity to a goddess?”
“You know, Hera and Athena were confused about this, too. In the modern mortal world women don’t get married so young. Okay, well, not educated women with any sense and decent teeth. Actually some of us don’t get married at all. Or have children. We don’t have to.”
“Then what do you do with your lives?”
Kat’s smile was long and slow. “Exactly what we want.”
“You’re like men!” Achilles proclaimed, as if he finally understood.
“I guess from your point of view that’s true.” She raised one brow at him. “And in case you’re wondering. I have no intention of changing that about myself, even if I have changed worlds.”
He gave her a considering look. “Does that mean you don’t ever want to marry or have children?”
Kat ignored the little sizzle of excitement his question had her feeling. “Not necessarily. What it means is that if I get married or have children it will be because that’s what I want and not because it’s what’s expected of me.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“Good. Now I want to hear a story about you as a little boy.”
“An unflattering story.”
“Absolutely, they’re the best kind.”
“All right.” He settled in against the pillar and crossed his legs at the ankle, occasionally taking a drink from the wineskin while he talked and she worked her way through the food in the picnic basket. “When I was a boy I didn’t believe I could drown.”
“Makes sense. Your mom being a sea goddess and all.”
“It would have made more sense if I had been an immortal, too. But I wasn’t, even though I acted like I was.” He shook his head, remembering. “I drove my nursemaids mad. And when I outgrew them, it was my tutors I drove mad. I took ridiculous chances—swimming too far out to sea, getting caught in undertows and barely escaping—silly, reckless things like that. It got so bad that my father was going to forbid me from going to the sea at all.”
