It wasn’t like I could
just blame the Romans for that particular lifestyle choice. The Greeks,
Spartans, Egyptians, Carthaginians, hell, even the Sea People. They all
conquered and took what they wanted. Sometimes I think that humanity is just
about war and will never be satisfied. Sometimes I get drunk and try to forget
about it.
Today was the latter.
The jug was empty. It
wasn’t the first, although it was the first that annoyed me enough to throw it
down the hill with as much strength as I could muster. The pot shattered in the
darkness, followed by the yelp of an animal of some kind. Wild boar probably.
They were in abundance around the hillside.
I sat outside my home on
a wooden chair and looked up at the night sky. The stars twinkled with
possibility. I didn’t know what stars were, but I was pretty sure they weren’t
the gods looking down on us. I’d met the gods, I used to be one of them. 'Used
to'.
I picked up another jug
of wine and proceeded to drink.
The two young mares I'd
purchased from a dealer in Troas a few years ago, were safely locked in the
small stables that sat a little way from my home. Celeritas and Robur had been
the majority of my company since I’d gotten them.
The lights from the town
of Troas lit up the countryside in the far distance, like a smudged glow. I’d
been here over two centuries ago, just passing through when the town had been
little more than a hamlet with delusions of grandeur. But the Romans arrived
and turned it into a bustling city; a port linking the eastern and western
parts of the vast Roman Empire.
I drained the last of
the jug and discovered I’d drunk the lot. Five jugs. Next time I’d buy seven.
I hadn’t intended to
drink it all, but it was coming up to the anniversary of my moving to Troas,
and it brought back nothing but bad memories. Occasionally, I wondered if I was
becoming a drunk. Five jugs would probably kill a human, but within the hour
I’d probably be back to sobriety. The half werebear side of me could heal
wounds in minutes that would kill a human, but it didn’t let me stay drunk for
long either. And even when I was drunk, I didn’t forget. Never forgot.
Another great thing about being almost immortal. You have a lot longer to
remember all the shitty things you did and saw.
With a long, protracted
sigh, I leaned back in the comfortable chair as the first drops of rain fell on
my head. “Go away,” I shouted at the sky, just in case one of the bastard gods
was actually listening.
My home was a modest
two-storey affair, with the lower floor containing a table and few chairs,
while the upper had a bed. I didn’t need much. There had been a leak in the red
tiled roof earlier, and I was glad I’d gotten up there and fixed it or I’d be
sleeping in a puddle of water.
The rain began to fall
harder, so I gave up and went back inside, taking myself upstairs as the wind
whipped through the balcony entrance, knocking over a plain wooden shield I’d
propped up against the wall. I’d been meaning to decorate it but hadn’t decided
how, and now it was going to need to dry out.
The bed was inviting,
and I sat for a moment, meaning to stay awake until I’d sobered up, but instead
found myself lying down, and not long after, falling into a deep sleep.
I woke to find it still
raining, although one of the rays of sunlight that peeked through the cloud
caught me in the eyes making me blink and try to bat it away. I'd have to punch
Helios in his stupid face the next time I saw him. I knew he didn’t really pull
the sun every morning, but Helios was a dick, so he usually needed punching for
something.
It was a short walk to
the nearby mountain summit, and looking down into the deep waters of Lake
Egeria, I dove from the top of the cliff, hitting the water in an almost
perfect motion. I continued on under the crystal-clear water toward the bank on
the other side.
“Diana,” a voice called.
I raised my arm to block
out the sun, but I couldn’t figure out who the voice belonged to from sight
alone. I sniffed the air. “I’m not interested,” I shouted and went back to
swimming.
“Diana,” she called
again as I resurfaced, running my hands through my shoulder-length dark hair
and turning my neck until it audibly cracked.
“Not interested,” I
shouted, diving back under the water. She wasn’t going to go away; they never
bloody well did. Far too stubborn, far too petulant. I touched the rock on the
bottom of the lake, and wondered how long I could hold my breath. I’d counted
to a thousand once, then had to surface because a shark had tried to eat me.
Turns out sharks don’t taste that great.
The second my head broke
the surface, it was filled with the same voice. “Will you please get out of the
water.”
I half sighed, half
snorted, and swam over to the bank, pulling myself up and out with ease.
“You’re naked,” she
said.
I looked down at my
body, the water still dripping off it, joined by the increasingly heavy rain as
the last vestiges of the sunlight vanished behind fast moving black clouds.
“Who swims clothed, Artemis?”
Artemis was almost the
same height as me, but her hair was blonde and was currently tied in exquisite
plaits that contained several coloured feathers. I didn’t know why she’d spent
so long getting her hair done, but there was a lot about Artemis I didn’t
understand.
Some believers of the
Roman gods said Artemis and I are the same person, something I’ve found to be
exceptionally strange. Artemis’ skin was similar to my own olive tone, and she
had green eyes, she was open and honest and, quite frankly, annoying. She
didn’t like to rock the boat, didn’t like to get into confrontations, which
considering her prowess as a hunter and fighter wasn’t something you’d think
she would be concerned about. Of all the Greek Pantheon, Artemis was one of a
handful I actually didn’t want to actively hurt after just being in their
company. Didn’t mean I was happy to see her.
“Are you going to get
dressed?” Artemis asked me.
“You’re a goddess,” I
said, ignoring her question. “You’re a goddess who works with Zeus. I’m pretty
sure you’ve seen more naked people than just… well, anyone ever.”
“Yes, but they don’t all
look so…” she didn’t finish the point.
“Awesome?” I asked for
her.
Artemis rolled her eyes.
“Buxom?” I asked as
Artemis turned and headed away with an audible sigh. “Effervescent?
Tantalising?” I continued as I followed.
“Stop it,” Artemis
called out without turning around.
“Glorious,” I suggested.
“Spectacular.”
Artemis spun back to me
as we reached the bottom of the pathway that led up the cliff. “Seriously,
Diana. Stop it.” There was no playfulness in her tone.
I nodded in apology. “I
meant nothing by it.”
“I know,” Artemis said
and started off again.
Artemis and I had been a
little more than just friends on a number of occasions, but she devoted herself
to becoming the best hunter, the best fighter, the best warrior that she could,
and didn’t have time for flights of fancy
as she called it. Sometimes she accepted my teasing and flirting, but
occasionally, when something was important, she shut it down fast. I used to
feel bad for her, that she didn’t allow herself to get into relationships, but
honestly, she seemed happier alone, and if that was what made her happy, then I
was all for it.
“Why are you here?” I
asked when we reached my home.
“Dress first,” Artemis
said, pointing to the house. “Talk later.”
She didn’t look at me
when I walked past, and I found a leather-armour skirt and top, taking time to
put on my sandals before I attached my sheath on my back and slung my
double-bladed axe to it.
I found Artemis stood
outside the house still, looking off into the distance, down toward the ocean.
“Troy was there,” she said almost wistfully.
I followed her gaze. “I
know.”
“Did you ever see
it?” She asked as I stood beside her.
She looked over at me and I saw the sadness in her eyes.
I shook my head.
“It was magnificent,”
she said softly. “So many people, so many sights and sounds. And men destroyed
it for… pride and revenge.”
“The gods helped,” I
said.
Artemis looked over to
me. “Yes, we did.” She didn’t sound all that happy about it.
“Hera especially wanted
Troy gone.”
“It was the beginning of
the end of Hera being happy with the power she had,” Artemis said. “The
beginning of the end of Demeter being neutral too. She hated that Hades and Persephone
were together, but she didn’t support Hera either. I think Troy ruined the gods
as much as the gods ruined Troy.”
“You didn’t come here to
discuss history,” I said as Artemis once again looked off to where the
magnificent city had once stood. “Ancient history at that.”
Artemis shook her head
and seemed to find herself again. “No, we have more important matters.”
“Should I say I’m not
interested now? Or wait until you’re done?”
“You were always… petulant,” Artemis said. “I need your
help.”
“Why not ask your
Pantheon? I don’t do the god stuff anymore.”
“I can’t ask them,” she
said, clearly not wanting to discuss the matter further.
I sat on the ground near
the entrance to my home as the wind tugged at the wooden door, threatening to
throw it open. “I don’t do god stuff,” I repeated. “Not now.”
“This isn’t god stuff,” she said. “This is me asking
you for help.”
“How’d you even find
me?”
“I’m quite literally the
god of hunting,” Artemis said with a flourish of her hands. “It’s sort of my
job.”
I narrowed my eyes, got
to my feet, stretched, and entered my home, with Artemis following close
behind.
“The boar you lobbed a
jug at told me,” she said. “The birds had been telling me for a while now. I
imagine you saw more above than usual.”
There had been an unusually large number of
sea birds above. “How long have you been tracking me?”
“A few years,” Artemis
said. “I wanted to check you were okay.”
“You could have just
come and asked,” I said with a slight shake of my head.
“You wanted to be
alone,” Artemis said sadly. “I didn’t know how you would take my interference.
But this is too important to ignore. I need your help, Diana. Please.”
It was the please that hit me hardest. Artemis
didn’t ask for help, she didn’t need it, and on the odd occasion she did, she’d
have asked Persephone or Apollo before anyone else. The fact that she bypassed
them to come to me did not bode well for whatever shitty thing she was about to
ask.
“What’s going on?” I
asked.
There was a knock at the
door, and I motioned for Artemis to wait a second as I got to my feet and
opened it, ready to tell whoever was there that I wasn’t interested. There was
a dwarf there. A Norse dwarf to be exact. He was five feet tall, so well over a
head shorter than me, and wore dark grey metal armour. He was carrying a metal
helmet under one arm, and a large battle-axe was sheathed on his back, much
like my own, but he had two more hand axes hanging from either side of his
waist. Also, a sword. Several daggers. And what looked like a short bow slung
over one shoulder. He looked like he should be invading countries.
He smoothed his long,
ginger beard and cleared his voice. “Have you told her yet?” he asked Artemis,
speaking in Latin while looking behind me.
I turned back to
Artemis. “Why is there a Norse dwarf at my door?”
“You know it’s fuckin’
raining out here, right?” the dwarf said.
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