Chapter 1
A Test is Passed
At the agōgē in the city-state of Deminon
Her short sword held to the side and her feet positioned for an attack, Diana regarded her opponent with a grin. “You are winded, old man.”
Darius of Agremon furrowed both brows and dropped his sword to his side. “Old man?” he repeated, incredulous. “Why, I think you are in need of...” He didn’t have a chance to finish the response when Diana took advantage of his relaxed stance and came at him with a perfectly aimed attack.
Although he was able to recover and stop the swing of her blade just before it would have connected with his forearm, Darius was left off-balance. Before he could reposition his feet, her follow-up thrust caught the fabric of his exomie and sliced it. The short sword continued downward, allowing him the fraction of a second he needed to step to the side and raise his own sword in defense.
Diana grinned again. “A lesson?” she teased, thinking that’s what Darius was about to claim she needed.
He narrowed his eyes as he caught his breath and nodded. “A lesson, indeed. A lesson in how to respect your elders.” He started an attack then, bringing his sword down in an arc that Diana had to deflect from an awkward angle. He continued the attack, impressed at how the warrior-in-training seemed to guess correctly at his every move.
He was also surprised at how her loyal dog remained beyond the circle. The black Molossian, a huge and muscled canine, could have easily decided Diana was in need of protection and made a run at him. Instead, Takoda was sound asleep under a plane tree, apparently unaware his mistress was under attack.
Except she wasn’t just then. Diana had just countered his latest move and then swung her sword in an unexpected arc to the side. Darius paused, as if uncertain of what to do.
The pause was his undoing.
The arc of Diana’s sword changed, the flat of the blade striking him hard against the side of his hip. With her momentum carrying her in the same direction, she dropped and rolled, one leg kicking out to pull one of his from beneath him. Darius went down—hard—and let out a curse in a language Diana hadn’t heard before at the very same moment she returned to a battle stance.
“Diana!”
The scolding voice had Diana turning to find her mother, Stella, garbed in a white peplos and turquoise stola, regarding her with a look of alarm. The bright yellow chiton draped over one of her arms was a sign that Diana’s presence was required elsewhere—and soon. She would not have time to stop at the palace to bathe and dress.
Diana stepped back, nearly into the circle of her fellow army recruits, and watched as her mother rushed up to stand over Darius.
“Do not be cross with her,” Darius said as he openly admired the woman who stood over him, her red hair haloed by the rays of the sun. On a mid-spring day such as this, it wasn’t yet hot, but he appreciated how her body blocked the blinding light.
For a moment, he was reminded of what that body had looked like earlier that morning, flushed and replete from the pleasures he had seen to creating with both his tongue and cock.
Although he had at one time looked forward to the black of night to make love to Stella of Akrotiri, mornings were now his favorite time to remind her of his devotion to her.
Not that she needed reminding, necessarily. She had been his wife for nearly fourteen-hundred years.
“She has done as she should have,” he added with a nod to his daughter. Propped up on one elbow, he looked as if he intended to remain on the ground, despite the number of other warriors in training who watched from the edge of the battle circle.
“Apologies, Father,” Diana said as she dipped her head.
Darius angled his head in her direction. “None needed. You only did what I taught you to do. You will do well in battle, Daughter.”
He knew without looking at her that Stella winced at hearing his compliment. Although she had never asked him to give up on his idea to train his adoptive daughter for battle—their first daughter in their long union—Stella frequently reminded him that she might not survive a battle. Should one of his blows land and prove fatal, she was positive Diana would die—for good. Unlike Stella and Darius, Diana was not immortal. None of the fifty-two adopted sons that they had raised over the centuries had been, either.
When Stella held out an arm, Darius grasped it and allowed her to help him up. “Gratitude, my love,” he said as he stood. “Is my presence required as well?” he asked as he indicated the yellow chiton Stella still held over one arm.
She shook her head and gave the chiton to Diana. “Be quick. A large ship has been spotted on the horizon,” she said in a quiet voice, well aware they had an audience given the trainees who stood around the combat circle. All were in competition for positions in Deminon’s army, and how they performed during their duels on this day and the next would determine their fate.
Diana nodded and hurried out of the battle circle. In the past, she would have done so with her head angled down, but not on this day. Not when she had just bested her father for the first time in the duels.
She acknowledged the nods of her fellow trainees with a curt nod of her own, and with her head held high, she made her way to the changing room, Takoda on her heels.
If her presence hadn’t been required by her mother, she would now be standing with the other trainees watching the next match, listening to their doctor, Antony, and Leonidis, the legatos of Deminon’s army, call out instructions and complaints about their performance.
When his gaze swept the training arena, Darius grimaced at seeing his defeat had been witnessed by not just the other trainees, but by his strategus, Trevius, as well.
His dark hair displaying streaks of gray and his weathered face attempting to hide his amusement at seeing Darius bested by a young woman, Trevius dipped his head when Darius caught his eye. “About time you let her win one,” he murmured.
Darius opened his mouth, ready to put voice to a protest. Knowing he would be overheard by those whose attention had turned to the next combatants, Darius instead allowed a shrug.
Trevius turned and gave a deep bow in Stella’s direction. “My queen. It has been some time since your last visit,” he remarked.
“Too long,” she acknowledged, turning to indicate the duel that had commenced. “I see your oldest son has become one of our best soldiers. I remember when he was but six springs and had just started his training.”
Trevius straightened, his chest puffed out in pride. “He will lead an army one day, should the Romans ever decide to invade,” he murmured in agreement. “May I inquire as to why your daughter must leave us? It is an important day of duels.”
“I will allow her to return when she has completed her task,” Stella replied. “Remember, you agreed she must learn diplomacy as well as combat.”
Trevius dipped his head. “Ah. A ship with an important visitor must be on its way,” he whispered, his attention still on the two who were carrying on a spirited exchange of blows in the center of the training arena.
Stella turned her attention back to Darius. “You are welcome to join us, of course, but it appears you are expected for another duel.”
More comfortable in battle than in his role as king of Deminon, Darius allowed a smirk. “I trust you and Diana will do better without me,” he replied. “But do send a handmaiden with word if you need my assistance.”
Arching an eyebrow, Stella allowed her gaze to travel down her husband’s dirt-stained and torn chiton to his worn sandals, and back up to his short-cropped dark blond hair.
He looked nothing like the king of the city-state they had founded over four-hundred years ago, but she had grown accustomed to his younger visage and body. She grinned. “I will, but if not, do plan to join us for the evening meal. I will have a welcome surprise for you.”
His eyes widening in wonder, Darius was about to ask what it might be, but he knew she wouldn’t tell him. Not until she was ready.
He glanced out toward the water, realizing that whatever it was, it was arriving on the ship that was headed toward the docks. “I would not miss it,” he replied. He leaned over and bussed her on the forehead, just beneath the small gold crown she favored for days when she was scheduled to welcome someone of importance.
Diana appeared next to her mother, her training chiton and leather armor replaced with the bright yellow chiton. Worn so one shoulder remained bare, the chiton was secured at her waist with a belt. She had twisted her braided brunette hair into a high bun atop her head and surrounded it with an ornate lisette.
From the admiring looks of her fellow trainees—several had turned to regard her instead of watching the duel before Trevius loudly cleared his throat—Diana wondered if she should have waited and changed elsewhere. Everyone here knew she was the daughter of the king and queen, but none of them had seen her dressed for anything other than combat training while at the agōgē.
“We will take our leave and head to the docks,” Stella said before she kissed Darius.
Diana stepped up and dipped her head to her father. Before she could step back, though, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You have done well on this day,” he murmured. “And despite what Trevius will tell you, I did not let you win our match.”
Diana’s eyes widened before she dared a glance in the direction of the strategus. “Gratitude, Father.”
With another dip of her head in Darius’ direction, she hurried off to join her mother, Takoda at her side.
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