House of Thebes (The Bloodstone Saga) Page 7

  “I think I’ll make it my signature piece,” I mused to my mother as I studied myself in the mirror. “It definitely makes a statement.”

  She murmured her agreement as she messed with my skirts. She straightened and gazed at me in the mirror.

  “You’re right. It looks perfect on you. You should wear it often.” She turned and faced me, fiddling with the bloodstone and then with my hair. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, slipping her amethyst ring off of her finger. “I want you to wear this today, as well. You know that I wear it all of the time. I want you to wear it as you take your vows. It will bring you luck.”

  I slid it onto my index finger. “I feel very lucky and blessed already. Between my new necklace and your amethyst, I’ll have all the fortune I’ll need.”

  Aphrodite smiled and kissed my cheek. “You deserve it, my love,” she whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. “You are the sweetest daughter any mother could have. I’m so blessed to have you. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.” She sniffed and then sniffed again.

  “Mother,” I smiled patiently, accustomed to her rapid mood swings. “I’m not abandoning you forever. I’m not dying, either. I’m getting married. I’ll still talk to you all of the time. I’m sure you’ll visit often.”

  “Of course I will,” she promised. She sighed. “It’s probably almost time.” Leaving my side, she peeked out my bedroom windows. “Yes, everyone is gathered. It’s time, Harmonia.”

  My heart beat picked up and I was petrified and excited at the same time. In a few minutes, I would be bound to the man I loved for all of eternity. It was a daunting and delicious thought.

  My mother accompanied me down the marble stairs, holding my elbow so I wouldn’t trip in my skirts. Being cast mortal had made me a little clumsier than I once was. It had also taken away my superhuman speed and the ability to read minds, in addition to every other magical ability that I once possessed.

  “Don’t worry, my sweet,” my mother whispered. “You’ll get it all back someday. And no matter how old you are when you decide to come home, Zeus will restore you to the prime of your youth, just as you are today. You will be forever beautiful.”

  “Like you,” I answered in a whisper. My mother hadn’t aged a day in thousands of years.

  “Like me,” she nodded.

  We descended into the courtyards which were fragrant and beautiful. They were also filled with as many people as could fit into the outdoor space. All of the townspeople, the Olympians, the minor gods and goddesses of the Spiritlands and even the Muses were in attendance. Hades was seated at the back and he turned to catch my gaze. His was impassive and guarded. He had already warned me. He wasn’t going to waste his time doing it again. I shuddered slightly and then put him out of my mind, positioning myself at the top of the stairs.

  My mother smiled. “Ready?”

  I nodded.

  As soon as we took our first step down the limestone terrace steps, Apollo began playing his lyre in the sweetest of songs. He was a gifted magician. As his musical notes filled the gentle breeze, the Muses began signing and my jaw snapped shut in surprise.

  They rarely sang for mortals. For them to perform here, at my wedding, was surely a testament to the honor Zeus was bestowing upon Cadmus. My grandfather must truly believe Cadmus to be worthy of respect. It warmed my heart to know that the god of gods shared my views on the man that I loved.

  And all of a sudden, there he was. Cadmus stood with Zeus and my father at the edge of the terrace, amid flowers and greenery and the bluest of skies. He was beautiful, so vibrant and strong, such a muscular warrior. Everything else faded away and before I knew it, I was standing in front of him.

  His eyes were frozen on mine. His lips moved.

  “You are beautiful,” he murmured to me, raising my hand to press his lips to it.

  We turned to Zeus, who said a few words to all of the attendees. The townspeople were in awe of this greatest of Olympians and a hush fell over the crowd when he spoke.

  “We have traveled here today to witness my beloved granddaughter, Harmonia, joined in marriage to the brave Cadmus, previous slave to Ares, prince of Phoenicia and now King of Thebes. As Cadmus promised me and Harmonia’s father, they will become a team, working to create a wonderful life. They have chosen to remain here, in Thebes, and so here today, I offer them to you, good citizens of Thebes. They will rule this land and lead you to even greater prosperity. And when they have done all that they can do here for you, they will return to me and live for eternity.”

  Zeus turned to me, his silver eyes glinting and serious.

  “Harmonia, my sweet granddaughter. Do you wish to become the wife of Cadmus, King of Thebes?”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  “Cadmus, King of Thebes, do you wish to become the husband of my granddaughter, Harmonia?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “Then I now decree that you are husband and wife. I pray that your union is prosperous and that you have many sons and beautiful daughters . I pray that the Fates will bless you and the Muses will sing to you every night in your dreams.”

  Cadmus turned to me, cradling my face ever-so-gently in his hands before lowering his lips to mine in the softest of kisses.

  The crowd cheered and clapped and I could hear glasses breaking in the excitement. I didn’t care. All I cared about was feeling my husband’s lips upon mine, the heat from his stare and the silk of his hands across my back. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait until we were alone. A fire had begun in my belly and I knew it would be a slow burn until bedtime.

  We turned and faced our guests, then took our first steps as man and wife.

  * * *

  The stone steps leading up to our bedchambers were longer tonight than they were this morning. Cadmus held my hand and led me along the way and my only conscious thought was to wish we were already there.

  It had been a long evening. We had mingled with everyone at the party. I had been hugged, kissed, fawned over and cried upon. Cadmus had been passed around and ogled by every female in attendance. We were both bone-weary.

  But definitely not too weary.

  Cadmus opened the doors to our suite and I entered, turning to kiss him as soon as our bedroom doors were closed and we were alone.

  His kiss was feverish now, not as gentle as it was earlier. But I understood. The fire that had been building in my belly was now consuming my entire body, every nerve ending aflame.

  “Let’s go to bed, wife,” Cadmus murmured against my mouth.

  I nodded, unable to speak. Instead, I folded into his warmth, his strength. I found that my legs no longer wanted to support me, so I clutched Cadmus. He scooped me into his arms and carried me easily to the bed, lowering me to the silken bedclothes.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “I’m a lucky man.”

  With the candlelight flickering behind him, I could honestly say that I was the lucky one. The world had never seen a more beautiful mortal than Cadmus. Not even Achilles was as handsome.

  Cadmus pulled me to my feet and unbuttoned my gown for me, allowing it to fall in a puddle around my ankles. I stepped out of it and turned back around slowly as he gazed upon me. I stood, completely naked in front of him wearing only my bloodstone. I started to take it off, but Cadmus stilled my hand.

  “Leave it,” he said quietly. “It suits you.”

  He knelt in front of me, his hands clutched to my back and slowly kissed my belly, my ribs, my neck and then finally, when I was practically gasping for breath, he kissed my mouth once more.

  “You were right,” I whispered into his ear before I ran my lips along his cheekbone.

  “About?” he asked huskily as he nuzzled my neck.

  “You didn’t have to ask me to take off my clothes.”

  I felt him smile against my skin and then he kissed me again.

  And again.

  And again.

  “Do you love me yet?” I asked with a smile, but like alw
ays, I waited for his answer.

  He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes seriously.

  “I’ve always loved you, I think,” he answered quietly. “From the moment you shot me in the leg.”

  I laughed quietly as I remembered that first day. I had been wonderstruck by him even then.

  “So you love me?” I asked again.

  He nodded. “Most definitely. I will love you for the rest of time.”

  I stared at him. “That’s a very long time, you know. You’re going to be immortal someday.”

  “Forever is a long time,” he agreed. “And I’ll love you every minute of it. But let us worry about eternity later. For now, let me love you this night. I promise, I will love you every minute of it.”

  “Promises, promises,” I giggled into his ear as he rolled me over on the bed and hovered above me.

  “I always keep my promises,” he reminded me as he kissed a trail down my neck.

  “Well, you’ve got all night to prove it,” I told him as I ran my hands over his back, his shoulders, his hips. “You said you would love me every minute of it.”

  “Oh, I will,” he promised again, kissing me soundly and deeply.

  And he did.

  Epilogue

  I have been told that my story is one for the ages.

  I don’t know about that.

  My story is one that has contained sadness and tragedy, happiness and laughter, hope and despair. And love. There’s been a great deal of love.

  But isn’t that the case for every person, god or mortal? Every life contains laugher and love, while that very same life contains sadness and despair. Someone once said that without rain, there could be no rainbows and I have certainly found that to be true. There is always a balance in life…light with the dark, happy with the sad.

  Life is not a promise of constant bliss. Life is a chance. A chance to love, to try, to fail and to try again. Life is about living. If there is any message that you can take from my story, I hope it is that.

  Life is vivid and beautiful. You should grab it with both hands and never let it go, even when it seems bleak or gray. Because you know what? Tomorrow or the day after or the day after that, it will be sunny again. And love with prevail.

  It always does.

  Every love story has a beginning and this was mine.

  So long ago, Cadmus promised to love me for every minute of forever. And would you like to know something? He has done exactly that. Our love has withstood time, tragedy and death.

  Cadmus has walked by my side every day for the past two thousand years. Every night he holds me until I fall asleep, whispering that everything will always be alright, because he will make it so.

  And he always does.

  My husband keeps his promises.

  Author’s Notes

  I hadn’t realized how much I missed Harmonia and Cadmus until I wrote this novella. They are such great characters…so witty and interesting, so loving and strong. I wish I could write about them forever, but alas, their story had come to a close.

  According to ancient myth, after they wed in Thebes, Cadmus and Harmonia ruled until they grew old. Because the bloodstone had in fact been cursed by Hephaestus (as revenge for his wife’s transgressions), all of their children and grandchildren met horrible ends. Because they were weary with grief, Cadmus and Harmonia eventually moved to Illyria to help with a war, and then asked Zeus to change them into serpents. They lived in the Isles of the Blessed forever.

  It is said that Cadmus is the father of the modern alphabet, that he brought the written word to the Greeks, where as we know, it slowly spread throughout the world and you are reading it even now.

  As you know, my version of Cadmus and Harmonia’s story is a little different from the ancient mythos. There is no way I wanted my hero and goddess to live for all of eternity as serpents. (Although, it bears importance to note that in ancient Greek myth, serpents were not regarded the same as we look at them today. They were treated as wise, revered creatures.)

  In my version of Cadmus and Harmonia’s story, they reign in Thebes until they are old. They do grow weary from watching their children suffer, so they do ask to be turned into serpents. However, Zeus brought them back from the Isles of the Blessed in order to carry out their true purpose. They were re-born into mortal lives for a couple of thousand years in order to protect the bloodstone which eventually turned out to be the key that saved each and every Olympian from the clutches of the Fates.

  They were granted immorality and will both live in the prime of their lives forever, beautiful and strong. They have a daughter, Raquel, and they live blissfully at peace on a replica Mount Olympus in the Isles of the Blessed.

  They faced many tribulations to get to where they are now, but they conquered each and every one. Zeus had never been more correct than when he told Cadmus that his path in life would be twisted and long, but would be worth it. Cadmus and Harmonia spent two thousand years finding each other, only to lose each other again and again. But they are together now, for all of eternity, and that is the happy ending that they so deserve.

  If Cadmus and Harmonia could speak to you right now, I’m sure they would tell you this: That every struggle in life is worth it. The blissful moments are worth every tear that is shed.

  Thank you so much for reading The Bloodstone Saga. I do hope that you have enjoyed it even a fraction as much as I enjoyed writing it. As a special thank you, I have included several short stories based on characters from The Bloodstone Saga. I hope you enjoy them!

  Bonus Short Stories

  From

  The Bloodstone Saga

  At Morning’s Light

  A Short Story Based on Every Last Kiss

  By Courtney Cole

  Foreword

  In my book, Every Last Kiss, Charmian knew that she would die with Cleopatra. She knew it without any doubt, because she had been there and done it before.

  In Every Last Kiss, she has been brought back to ancient Alexandria by the priest Annen to either repair a hole in time or to sit back and do nothing at all, all to prove that it wouldn’t matter in the long run. Annen wanted to prove to Macy (Charmian) that the Fates were manipulating her into making painful decisions, that their plan wasn’t the one true way.

  The night before the armies of Rome arrived to occupy Alexandria; Charmian also knew that it was the last night she would spend with the love of her life, Hasani, because he would die the next day. She had already seen it and knew it would happen. If she didn’t interfere, if she didn’t change his path, Hasani would die.

  Charmian was heartbroken, not only because Hasani was going to die, but because she thought she was sending him into a battle to die when he had no idea of his fate. As the commander of Marc Antony’s armies, Hasani was the bravest warrior she had ever met. She knew he would fight to the death for victory and he would meet it without ever once doubting his skill in battle, without ever once thinking about his own defeat.

  Hasani never doubted that he, and Egypt, would win. He never hesitated, he never faltered, he never questioned his fate.

  At least, never out loud.

  Charmian’s memories from that night were heartbreaking and poignant.

  This is the story of that night from Hasani’s point of view.

  At Morning’s Light

  Cleopatra’s Palace

  Alexandria, Egypt

  30 BC

  Hasani

  I would die on the morrow.

  This was the thought that consumed me as I sat quietly and listened to Marc Antony, my commander, speaking to me of our certain victory.

  “Octavian is mine,” Antony told me in a conspiratorial tone. He laughed and slapped my shoulder. “Seeing his pale eyes widen in surprise when I run him through with my sword will be repayment for everything he has done. To me, to Cleopatra, to Egypt.”

  Antony trailed off and stared absently into the crowd, watching the dancers gyrate around us, but not really watching. His in
ky black curls glistened in the light from the torches that were flickering from the walls, his dark eyes pensive.

  He could say what he would like, he could laugh about the Roman curs that we would decimate, the cowards who we would crush between our heels. But I knew, just as he knew, that these were delusions. Delusions to keep us calm, to keep us happy on our last night of life. We would both die in our next and last battle.

  I was a warrior. I had always been a warrior. It was hard, almost impossible, for me to contemplate or accept the fact that I would lose a battle. I would lose a war.

  As bitter a pill as it was for me to swallow, it was even worse for Antony. Marc Antony had already lost his good Roman standing, his reputation in Rome, his homes, his money, his status as a Triumvirate. All he had left was here in Egypt and he would lose that tomorrow. I was certain he would lose his life as well. He would never surrender to Octavian. He still had his Roman honor. They couldn’t take that from him.

  Yet even still, Antony kept his expression jovial, his manner light. Like any good soldier, Antony kept his emotions hidden. I wondered if he was dying inside like I was. The interesting thing was my perspective. I knew I could die, would probably die. But my life didn’t really matter. But what did matter was tearing me apart.

  It was her.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glimpse of royal purple. I turned and found them entering the banquet hall. Amid the dancers and oboe players, the incense smoke and the chatter, I saw Cleopatra, the queen of Egypt, and Charmian, her handmaiden and my reason for living, making their way towards us across the crowded hall.

  I immediately stood as a show of respect for the queen. A slight wisp of a woman, the queen was exotically beautiful. Her black hair was piled onto her head, her eyes painted with kohl and malachite. I could see the glittering from here, as she watched Antony and me for signs of distress or weakness. She knew the truth, as well. I had seen it on her face for weeks. But she was a strong queen and she would do what she must for the good of Egypt. I respected her for that.