My Spartan Hellion (24 page)

He was not a man who existed in grey spaces. Either she wanted to be there with him, or she did not, and he could not pretend to be her husband in the truest sense when so many uncertainties lingered between them—when he knew she would one dawn pack her belongings and disappear from his life.

With a pained sigh, he lifted his hand to untie the knot that held Zeus to the post. These were all questions he could not answer alone. He needed to return home. It was finally time for him to face Lam—

Raucous laughter echoed on the wind, snaring his attention. Two young men stumbled onto the street, bloated with wine and staggering on wobbly legs.

They were drunk and Thanos curled his lips into a small grin as he watched them tumble along.
Ahh, the stupidity of youth.
He knew they would curse themselves at dawn when they awoke with pounding heads.

He let his hand fall to his side and followed the same pathway the boys had just taken. It had been several moons since his last visit to the
tavernas
but he could use a nice full cup of wine. As soon as he was done, he would then go home and face his wife.

* * * *

“Thank you for coming with me.”

Basha sent her a sidelong glance as if to say she owed her many coins for this. “I couldn’t let you go alone. I hope he’s here because if Ulysseus awakens before I return then I will never hear the end of this.”

“He has to be here—”

Basha sighed deeply and Lamia knew what was coming, but she did not wish to hear it.

“Lamia, I have tried to prepare you for the possibility that he may have taken—”

She halted immediately, rounding on her sister within the law. “Don’t say it. Do. Not. Say. It.” She punctuated each word softly, coldly.

Basha sighed. “Fine.”

Lamia nodded and resumed her hurried pace towards the
tavernas
. When Thanos had failed to return home an hour past the time he should have, she’d gone in search of Basha. Luckily for her, Basha had still been awake, although Lamia had not been pleased to hear Basha’s news. Thanos had departed from Basha’s home over two hours ago. He should have been fast asleep in his bedchamber by now. But he wasn’t. And she refused to believe he was in another woman’s. But this was two eves now and—

Stop it
.

She shook her head firmly as if she could banish the notion from her mind.
Do not torture yourself this way.

Just the thought of him warming another woman’s bed made her heart wrench so she refused to even think about it, which left only one other place where Thanos could be—the
tavernas.
She prayed to the gods he was there, because, if he wasn’t, she didn’t know what she would do. After their fight, she’d known that Thanos wouldn’t simply idle about, twiddling his thumbs for her to make up her mind about them—after all, she’d told him she was leaving with such a finality that it would not have been erroneous for him to believe her. She’d still never considered he would seek out another woman, however. Foolish it may have been to think such a thing, but she never would have imagined Thanos could betray her so cruelly while he still called her
wife.

She caught sight of the torches blazing in the distance and quickened her pace. When she reached the rickety old building with its crumbling façade and nauseous stench, she hesitated. She had no idea why people would wish to spend their time in such a dreary place, but that wasn’t her concern. Her only concern was Thanos, and with thoughts of him firmly fixed in her mind she stepped inside.

Her heart sank when she swept her gaze over the room. About two dozen men crowded the dingy space, along with a few women, whom she assumed to be prostitutes, but Thanos was nowhere in sight.

She choked back a sob and spun around to leave.

“Where are you going?” Basha questioned, blocking her path.

“He’s not here,” she whispered brokenly, hating how her voice now quivered. It was humiliating. How could Thanos do this to her?

Basha stared at her as if she was mad. “What do you mean he’s not here?” She pointed over Lamia’s shoulder. “Look there, in that corner, behind the prostitute.”

She followed the direction of Basha’s hand until it landed on Thanos, who sat at a table off in a corner. She’d missed him before because three men sat across from him at the table as well, obstructing her view, along with the prostitute who kept dipping in and out of her line of sight. She frowned then when the woman completely blocked her view of Thanos by sitting in his lap.

She was going to kill him, Lamia decided, as she marched towards him with Basha on her heels.

She stopped before Thanos to glare down at him. His pupils were dilated from all the wine he’d consumed, but he was sober enough to realise he was in a wealth of trouble as he stared up at her, alarm spreading across his face.

She swung her gaze towards the woman, who looked to be barely older than Adonis. She felt nothing but sadness for her. This was no way for a woman as young as she to make a living. However, her pity was short-lived when the woman ran her palm along Thanos’ thigh.

She glowered at her. “I suggest you remove yourself from his lap if you do not desire trouble.”

Anger flashed in the girl’s eyes, and Lamia stepped closer when the woman did not so much as move.

“It would be wise for you to remove yourself as she asked,” Basha called from over Lamia’s shoulder.

The prostitute’s gaze darted between the two women, realising immediately she was outmatched. With a nod, the girl quickly scrambled off Thanos’ lap and disappeared.

With the young woman gone, Lamia turned her attention to the three men sitting at the table, their rapt gazes riveted on her and Thanos.

“Could you spare us a moment?” She did not wish for an audience to hear what she had to say.

The men were slow to shuffle off, but eventually they disappeared from sight as well.

When Basha backed away to give them privacy, Lamia finally turned her full attention to Thanos. Mindful of the curious eyes and alert ears, she kept her voice low.

“We can do this two ways, Thanos. You can walk out of here with me and we can go home and have this conversation in private. Or you can stubbornly refuse to leave and we can stay here and give all of Sparta something to talk about for the next fortnight.”

Thanos may have been drunk, but he wasn’t stupid. Moments later they departed from the
tavernas
and headed home.

Chapter Sixteen

Lamia jabbed her sword into her imaginary opponent’s chest.

No
, she corrected, he was not imaginary at all. Thanos would fit perfectly on the other end of her sword.

As soon as they’d arrived home last eve, Thanos had passed out in his bed, fast asleep. And when she awoke at dawn, he was still there,
still
fast asleep. She’d left him there. He was lucky he hadn’t been awake because she was furious. As if carting home a drunk husband wasn’t enough, before they could leave the prostitute had demanded payment from them, which had been promised to her by
Thanos.

She had a pretty good idea what he’d promised the woman payment for and, if she and Basha hadn’t arrived when they had, the woman probably would have earned her coins. Pain knotted her belly at the realisation that Thanos no longer wanted her. That he’d sought out a prostitute to ease his lusts was hurtful and humiliating.

A fresh wave of fury hit her and the boiling emotions fuelled her precise movements as sweat poured from her body, soaking her
chlamys
. When needing to expend her anger, Lamia had always turned to her training, so she’d risen that dawn and headed to the open
gymnasium
near the
agora.
It would be good for her, she’d decided—to practice her swordsmanship, but also to
work through her frustrations away from Thanos and the home they shared before she would have to confront him. Maybe, when she was calmer, they could have a fruitful discussion and not the simmering argument that was sure to come if she was upset.

She snorted.
Not upset?

Not likely.

Already, she’d been there for three hours and every time she thought of Thanos her anger redoubled. What also appeared to be steadily increasing was the number of curious spectators hovering around the open field. She noticed then that several
hoplites
had joined the crowd, their raucous cheers echoing loudly across the open space whenever she executed a particularly difficult move. She rolled her eyes when they cheered again. Did they not have better things to do than watch Thanos’ ‘exotic Berber wife’? Certainly there were lands to conquer
,
she thought dryly.

“Your husband should know better than to leave you unattended. You could kill someone.”

She turned at the sound of the deep, familiar voice, letting the heavy sword rest against her hip. Instantly groans of protest erupted from the growing crowd.

“Oh, calm down my friends,” Adonis shouted to them. “I have not come to spoil the fun. Quite the opposite. I wonder if the lady would care to try her skills on me.” He crooked his lips into a smile.

With a grin of her own, Lamia shook her head at the handsome
hoplite,
who she’d discovered lived up to his namesake as she’d first suspected. Adonis was breathtakingly handsome and he knew it. He was also a notorious flirt and quite free with the ladies. Still, his shameless flirting aside, a genuine friendship had blossomed between the two in the passing moons.

Unsheathing his sword, he dipped his head with a curt nod, his dimples creasing his cheeks. “Care to join me in a friendly round?” His eyes sparkled. “If you dare.”

“You are incorrigible. You know that? If Thanos finds out about this, he will flog us both.”

“Then we shall not tell him,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Come now, Lamia, show me what you can do with one of your little girl
swords,” he taunted as he gestured towards her ruby-jewelled sword of pure steel, its hilt an intricate design forged out of silver. It was one of her more elaborate designs. It was also one of her more expensive pieces. She really shouldn’t have even been training with it—

“Do not tell me you are fearful of one as lowly as I,” Adonis teased, glimpsing her hesitation. “Not when you have battled thieves and governors, even our great general himself.”

She sighed, knowing she was going to regret giving in to Adonis’ dare. Her mind screamed at her to tell him
no
but she had never been particularly adept at resisting a challenge—even one as foolhardy as this.

Cheers erupted from the crowd when she lifted her sword.

“All right,
Spartan.
Show me
if you’re as
good
as you boast,” she taunted, smiling when his eyes widened at her double meaning. He wasn’t the only one who could flirt. She may be out of practice, but she still knew how to play the sport.

Besides, if her husband could canvas prostitutes, the least she could do was enjoy the attention of a handsome young man.

* * * *

Thanos wearily dragged himself towards the post where he’d left Zeus, eager to make the short ride home. He was going to be sick and he wanted to be in his chambers when he vomited.

He’d awakened late and had to rush to his meeting with the council. He’d then sat through another two hours of deliberation before they’d taken a vote on what to do about the Romans. His bad mood had taken a dive for the worse when the results had come back.

The fools had voted against sending soldiers to Athens—a grave mistake on their part. Fortunately, he and Cleomenes had suspected that would be the outcome and so they’d devised a plan. A plan that, if it was to work, would mean that he would have to leave soon. His only regret was that he would have to leave Lamia at such a tumultuous time in their relationship.

After last eve, he’d awoken with new hope for them. A wife who did not care would not demand he come home then threaten to fight prostitutes over her husband.

He dreaded leaving Lamia with so much of their future still uncertain, but it was necessary, if they were to even have a future, for the very existence of Sparta was at stake. He only hoped that, when he returned, he could convince her that she hadn’t made a mistake by coming to Sparta and becoming his wife, and that, if she left, she would regret leaving him behind—that was, if she was still there when he returned, he thought glumly. With Lamia, he had no way of knowing if she would vanish from Sparta the very moment he marched out.

Boisterous shouts and cheers rose up from Pylos,
drawing his attention and bringing with it a fresh wave of nausea as the loud noises ricocheted in his head. Thanos promised himself then that he would never imbibe wine
ever
again as he dragged his feet towards the large crowd, curious as to what could have drawn so many spectators. While the
gymnasium
normally
enjoyed a steady trickle of people, this dawn it was overflowing with visitors as they crowded on the grass around the open area. That was an unusual occurrence, especially this early in the morn.

With unhurried steps, he pushed himself through the throng of people trying to get a closer look.

His forward progress was momentarily halted when cheers rose up from the crowd, the crush of people boxing him in tightly as they jumped and clapped.

“That’s it, Lamia. Get him!” someone shouted out.

He froze, his body rooted to the spot.

The craggily old Spartan beside him squinted hard as he stared up at him, a smile slowly spreading across his wrinkled face.

“Your wife is holding her own in there with Adonis. You two will have fine sons,” he exclaimed excitedly.

Holding her own?

With Adonis!

Numbly, Thanos pushed his way through the throng of people until he made it to the edge of the field. He saw her immediately and his belly lurched at the vision before him. Her mass of flowing chestnut locks were wild, her topaz eyes even wilder as she wielded her exotic sword effortlessly. She looked as unbridled and untamed as he knew her to be. And a frown crossed his face when he saw, much to his displeasure, that her
chlamys
was bunched up mid-thigh so that she could easily dodge Adonis’ attacks, leaving her shapely, toned legs on display for all to see. In a word, she was stunning…and as soon as he got his hands on her he was going to spank her stunning ass, right after he killed Adonis, he concluded as he stomped angrily onto the field.