Between Lions and Men

20: I am of a race that knows neither flight nor fear

Helen

Night comes swiftly, as though the day too has evil deeds to attend to. I watch it from Nico's room window, putting him bed and singing to him until he falls asleep. I don't usually dare venture out of my rooms at night. I don't in the day come to think of it. But I have an errand.

"What are you doing out and about?" the reason I do not dare tread past my room door asks, a sharp hand on my wrist.

"Getting some oil, Nico's getting a rash," I lie.

"It can wait until morning. Come to bed," he says, his grip tightening on my wrist.

"Not tonight," I say, coolly.

"The goddess gave you to me, you know. They said that since I was the cleverest of men, I could have you, the most beautiful woman in the world," he says, dark eyes fixed upon my lips.

"I truly doubt that for a number of reasons I do not feel pressed to tell you at this late hour. Now, I'm going on an errand, you're going to bed, let us part," I say.

He twists my arm harder. I use my other hand to take hold of his thumb and twist it, easily breaking his grip and stepping away, "Do not test the golden blood in my veins, boy."

He curses at me. I walk on. He knows better than to try to follow. I have never called upon my brothers for aid, yet he fears I may.

I find the hall where they stew their war plans. As usual, Hecktor alone sits at the table. Broad shouldered, dark haired Hecktor. Fine high cheekbones, a slow steady gaze, he's cleverer and handsomer than his brother. I enter, locking the door behind myself. Then I go to change the radio from war news to a music station. We already know this city is the last strong hold. Nothing new there.

"I was listening to that---oh it's you," he says, looking up, surprised. Stains on his hands from the pens he was making notes with.

"Just me," I say, smiling and watching him.

"What did you want? Andy's in bed already I'm sure," he says, looking back down. He knows I'm good friends with his wife. Good friends as a captive can be with anyone.

"To talk to you," I say, sitting down across from him.

"What is it? If it's about Alexsander, I'm not his keeper," he says.

"No, it's not about Alexsander. It's about you," I say, smiling at him.

"What about me?"

"Are you going into battle tomorrow?" I ask.

"Yes, why?"

"You shouldn't," I say.

"What—oh were you talking to my sister weren't you? Ignore those prophesies," he says, not even looking up now.

"You don't believe the prophesy that was given to you by the gods?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"I do not. It's war. We're all likely to die. I don't think the gods are watching, or care much for a mortal man," I say.

"My father would beg to differ," I laugh.

"That's his option then—oh you're intending to be funny, you're a bastard aren't you? You as well as your brothers?"

"Our mother says she found us in an egg, and I am being very funny," I say.

"I'm well aware how bastards are explained away. I don't much care, you can do and think as you like."

"My brothers would beg to differ as well," I'm quite amused.

"Well, my opinion is mine. I fear no mortal man, and I'll not be made a coward by rambling prophecies that have no sense or meaning," he scoffs.

"The son of Peleus isn't mortal---his mother is a sea witch," I say.

"Yes, I've heard that one too, I shall be quite sure to challenge him well away from water. If you didn't have any other suggestions I do need to work," he says.

"One more suggestion," I say, "Do you ever have any fun?"

"Yes, you need not concern yourself with my time----turn that off," he finally realizes the radio is playing a love song.

I smile.

"Please, lady, turn it off, I am working," he sighs.

The radio clicks off. I continue to stare at him.

"How---" he draws his dagger like a man (like a fool) and hops up out of his chair.

I laugh.

"You didn't---you can't have, it's a coincidence," he says, staying well away from me.

"Your brother is quite the believer in gods," I say.

"My brother is an idiot, in case you hadn't noticed, and does not deserve mention or frankly, lady, you wouldn't be here," he spits, going to look at the radio. He turns it back on. The love song comes back. He fiddles but cannot tune it elsewhere. "What do you want?"

"To know if you think I'm pretty? Most everyone does," I say, leaning back in the chair and crossing my legs.

"Unless you are in front of me I do not think of you."

"And when I am in front of you?"

"Typically I do my best to avoid you, I do not converse with women in general. My wife is the rare exception."

"You think I'm an idiot?" I laugh, "And not worth your time?"

"I simply think you not worth time I don't have."

I sigh and shake my head.

The door opens just a crack and Andy and Hector's baby boy, Scam, runs in. He's just two years old and learning to use his fat little baby legs. He babbles unintelligibly and runs to his father, arms outstretched.

"Someone wouldn't go to sleep without a goodnight kiss," Andy says, nearly tripping as she hurries after her toddler, cheeks flushed from clearly chasing him, "Oh, you're here."

"Yes, you were right. I owe you a bottle of wine," I say, rolling my eyes.

"I know," Andy says, smiling fondly at her man.

"Who's my little soldier then? King of his people? Highest in the city?" Hecktor ask, holding his boy aloft to kiss his cheeks.

"Oh and he still doesn't think gods are real," I say.

"I said don't care; that's different from real. Everything's real," he says, barely paying attention to us in his adoration of his tiny son.

"Oh you weren't cruel to him?" she winces.

"No," I laugh, "I did my best."

"Thank you."

"I'll to bed, good luck," I say, squeezing Andy's arm.

"Thanks," she says, smiling sadly at me, then back at her husband, well aware their time is short.