Warrior Rising (36 page)

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Authors: P. C. Cast

BOOK: Warrior Rising
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“What have you done, you old shithead?” she said.
“Don't you dare speak to me in such a manner, woman!”
“Oh, fuck off!” Kat yelled, stepping forward into his face, which shocked him so badly that he actually took a step backward. She gave him a disdainful look and turned her back on him, speaking instead to Odysseus. “What's happened?”
“Achilles knows Patroklos is dead. The berserker has utterly possessed him and he's gone to kill Hector,” Odysseus said.
Kat felt the world tilt. Over a bizarre humming in her ears she said, “No . . . no, he's not dead.”
“He will be shortly. There is no stopping it. The monster has already defeated the man,” Odysseus said.
“Not Achilles, Patroklos,” Kat said, fighting not to sob in despair.
Odysseus rounded on Agamemnon. “You said Patroklos was dead.”
“I said he'd left this world, and he has.”
Kat gasped, reading the truth in Agamemnon's smug eyes. “You knew Patroklos wasn't dead. You saw them disappear.”
“What I saw was proof that you are not a princess of Troy.”
She curled her lip at Agamemnon. “You're finally right about something. No, I'm not an ancient woman you can bully.”
“Really? You look soft and weak to me.” Agamemnon made a threatening move toward her, but Odysseus stepped swiftly between them.
“You won't touch her,” he said.
Agamemnon hesitated, and then chuckled mockingly. “I suppose it's only right that you have her now that your friend is finished with her. But you should know that she's been lying to you, too. She's not Athena's oracle. She's in league with the Goddess of Love. I saw them together.”
“Perhaps you should return to your camp, great king.” Odysseus's voice was flint. “Your battle is about to be won for you, and you should be there to seize the glory.”
Agamemnon narrowed his eyes at Odysseus. “She's only a woman. Will you stand with her against your king?”
“God, you're such an asswipe!” Kat blurted before Odysseus could speak. “You think I'm just this?” She pointed down at her body. “This is just a shell—it's temporary. It's the spirit inside that lasts and really counts.”
“Oh, I believe you,
Princess,
” Agamemnon said, voice rich with sarcasm. “Which makes what has happened to Achilles even more tragic. What was inside of him is gone. But don't despair. His name will certainly last forever.”
Kat felt rage build within her. Acting purely on instinct, she wrapped her hand around Venus's pendant and with the other pointed a condemning finger at him. “Today is your lucky day. You were right twice. I am not an ancient princess, and I am in league with the Goddess of Love. So it's with Venus's power that I say love will betray you, like you betrayed my love. Love will be your death and your curse.”
Agamemnon shuddered, but recovered himself quickly. “You can't curse me, witch creature. I have the protection of the Queen of Gods herself.”
Kat's laugh completely lacked humor. “Really? Last time Hera and I chatted about you she said you were an arrogant fool.”
“You lie!”
“If I'm lying, then let the sea monsters Hera helped save me from come up here and grab me.” Kat took a couple resolute steps to the edge of the water. The waves washed over her shoes as she waited, looking seaward, and then when the placid water didn't so much as stir, she slowly turned her gaze back to Agamemnon. “You're screwed.”
Agamemnon stared at her and what he saw in her eyes made his face drain of color. “Stay away from me, witch!” he cried. The king began to hurry back down the beach toward the Greek camp, golden robes flapping behind him like he was an oversized, gilded gull.
Kat stared after him and prayed with every fiber of her being that curses really did work in this world.
CHAPTER THIRTY
"You have to take me to Achilles,” Kat said.
“That will only get you killed, or worse. You've gotten close to Achilles. The berserker could easily target you. If that happens killing you would be the best possible outcome.”
“Bullshit! Getting Achilles back would be the best possible outcome. Now take me to him.”
“The battlefield is this way.” Odysseus gestured up past the dunes that eventually gave way to a field of wheat, a grove of lovely olive trees, and various temples that used to be quite busy, and then, beyond the temples, the massive walls of Troy. As they hurried toward the great city, Kat thought she recognized Hera's temple where she and Jacky had first been zapped into this world.
“I'll lead you as close as I can, but you'll need to stay clear of the battlefield. It is no place for a woman,” Odysseus said.
“Odysseus, I'm not going to lie to you. I have no intention of staying clear of the battlefield. I'm going where Achilles is, and that's all there is to it.”
“You aren't Athena's oracle, are you?”
Odysseus pulled her attention from focusing on not stepping on her skirts as she practically jogged to keep up with his long stride. “No,” she said. “I'm not Athena's oracle.”
“Are you immortal?”
“I wish. Which means hell no. I'm just a woman.”
“Not even one of Athena's priestesses?”
Something in his voice made her look up at him, and she saw a terrible depth of sadness in his eyes and remembered how he had looked at Athena. Then she also remembered how stark his expression had been when he'd said the goddess had lied to him. What had Athena done to him?
He loves her,
Kat realized. “Well, not exactly. I work for three goddesses. I guess you could say I'm closest to Venus.” She didn't mean to sound oh-so-divine, but it was damn difficult to explain. “Look, there's a bunch of stuff going on here, and it can definitely be confusing.”
“The goddess didn't take me into her confidence. I thought she . . .” He looked away, clearly too hurt to continue.
Kat felt terrible for him. She didn't know much about Odysseus or about Athena, but she recognized heartache and betrayal. She also recognized a decent man when she saw one, and she definitely liked Odysseus.
“Venus is the goddess who cooked up the whole thing with Patroklos to impersonate Achilles. Athena didn't have anything to do with it. She probably didn't even know about it.”
“I hope that is true. I hope she hasn't been using me,” Odysseus said haltingly, and Kat could see what it was costing him to show such vulnerability. She'd seen it many times before in her office, and always when a man had found himself truly, deeply in love. Kat hoped Athena deserved him.
Kat decided to tell him as much of the truth as she knew. “I've seen you and Athena together and I can tell you that there is a bond between you, one she doesn't appear to take lightly.”
Odysseus stared at her for a long while. “It is a difficult thing to love a goddess. I have a wife, you know. She's been waiting almost ten years for me to return to our kingdom.”
“And do you love her?”
“Athena asked me that question recently. My answer was the same then as it is now. I honor Penelope as my wife and respect her as the mother of my son. But my love?” He shook his head. “That hasn't been mine to give away since I was a youth.”
“What happened then?” Kat asked the question, but she was pretty sure she already knew his answer.
“I met Athena, and pledged my life and my love to her service.”
“You didn't realize the seriousness of your choice then?” Kat asked.
“Oh, I realized it—I embraced it. I've belonged to Athena since the first moment I saw her. I have never regretted my love for her, even when it seemed I was no more than a slight favorite among many. I didn't even mind being used as a pawn—I was her pawn, and that was enough. Until now. Today, for the first time, I find myself wishing I did not love the goddess.”
He sounded utterly destroyed, and even in the midst of the turmoil with Achilles and Jacky and Patroklos, Kat wanted to help him. “You and Athena have become lovers.”
Odysseus nodded, giving a little self-mocking laugh. “Yes, despite knowing that doing so is unwise, I have fallen gladly, joyously, into her arms. Remember this, Princess, or whoever you really are, when mortals love the gods there is a price to pay, and it's usually the mortal who pays it. Achilles is the product of such love, and I have watched his mortality, his humanity, suffer for as long as I have known him.”
“I'll remember, but it seems what you're saying is that Achilles has been a victim, too.”
“He isn't Achilles anymore. You'll soon see.”
There didn't seem to be anything left to say, and Kat concentrated on keeping up with Odysseus as she wondered just what the hell she thought she was going to do when she finally found Achilles. In the middle of battle. Totally berserked out. She could hear Jacky's voice calling her a damn fool.
And then she realized that it wasn't Jacky's voice that was crowding into her mind, but the voices of many men and horses, swords and pain. They struggled up the side of an olive-lined ridge, Odysseus taking her elbow to help her, and Kat stumbled to a shocked halt.
“Oh, holy shit!” she blurted.
The walls of Troy stretched before her, thick and tall and impossibly magnificent. They were made of butter-colored limestone, and the midday sunlight made them shine a soft, compelling yellow. She could see some of the city built up inside the walls, the center-piece of which was a graceful, pillared palace that stretched all along the inside of the city walls to the left of the huge front gates. Beautiful arched windows led to ivy-hung and flowered balconies that afforded excellent views of what should be the placid and prosperous comings and goings of merchants, farmers and the people of Troy. Now the empty balconies looked out onto chaos.
“So many men,” Kat said, staring at the melee of warriors who shouted and screamed, fought and died in front of the city walls.
How will I ever find him?
But before she could voice the question, a terrible roar sounded from the center of the battlefield, so powerful that it had no trouble carrying over the two armies. “Achilles,” she said softly.
“Not Achilles,” Odysseus said. “You're not dealing with the man. You're dealing with the monster.”
“The man is still inside the monster,” she said stubbornly.
“Perhaps, but I saw no evidence of that when he gave himself over to it.” Odysseus paused, and rested his hand gently on her shoulder. Kat looked up at him questioningly. “As the berserker was possessing him he asked me to give you a message. Achilles said that the dream was over, and that you should go home. It was his final wish, along with asking that you forgive him. Reconsider, Princess. Imagine what it would do to him if he knew that he had again destroyed the woman he loved.”
Kat's throat burned with unshed tears. She remembered all too well the story Achilles had told her about the berserker raping and killing his young fiancée, who had also been Odysseus's cousin.
“I know you're making sense,” she said. “And I know it must seem to you like I'm behaving recklessly and being ridiculously stubborn, but here's the truth, Odysseus. I'm not from your time. I'm not even from your world. I'm a different kind of woman than what you know here, and I have the power of generations of independent thinkers and educated mothers and sisters, daughters and girlfriends, all within me. I believe in myself, and what the power of one woman can bring about. That gives me a different kind of strength, a strength that Venus and Hera and Athena knew would be needed here. I can change what's happening. All I have to do is trust myself and believe that Achilles will trust me, too.”
Odysseus had listened to her carefully, studying her intently while she spoke. “You make me hope you are right, Princess,” he finally said.
“Katrina, that's my real name. My friends call me Kat.”
He smiled. “Well, Kat, shall I lead you into chaos?”
She bobbed a little curtsey. “There are few men I'd rather go there with, kind sir.”
The battlefield was like nothing Kat could have ever imagined. The smells alone were horrendous, the sights and sounds utterly frightening. As soon as they'd reached the outskirts of the fighting, Odysseus sent a Greek runner to gather as many of the Myrmidons as he could find. Kat waited impatiently behind the battle lines, wishing for modern communications and transportation, and all the while the roar of the berserker sounded over and over again, filling the air with a bestial violence that made the men fighting and dying mere yards from her seem tame.
The Myrmidons responded to Odysseus's call much more quickly than Kat would have anticipated, and soon she was looking at the surprised, blood-spattered faces of familiar men who nodded to her in respectful greeting.
“We're taking her to Achilles,” Odysseus announced.
The Myrmidons' faces were utterly confused.
“But he is Achilles no more,” Automedon said.
As if to punctuate the warrior's words, another roar shook the battlefield and Achilles' own men shuddered.
“I know about the berserker, but I think I can reach Achilles,” Kat said, looking from man to man. “Patroklos is not dead. All I have to do is get to a small part of Achilles and make him understand that.”
“Patroklos lives!” Automedon said, as the men nearest them took up the cry and let it ripple through the group. Then the smiling warrior turned back to her. “Bring Patroklos to the battlefield, Princess. Even overtaken by the berserker, Achilles must recognize his cousin. When he sees that he is alive, all will be well again.”

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