Acheron 9529 BC–7382 BC 10 страница

Repulsed by his life, he wasn't sure how much time had passed before the guards returned to get him. He was dragged out of the room and shackled, then taken to his father's throne room. Naked, Acheron was forced to his knees in front of Styxx, his father and Nefertari who was still weeping.

The king glared at him unmercifully. "I find myself in a dilemma. The crime you've committed is punishable by death. But since I can't do that, we've decided to castrate you. No doubt it's what we should have done at your birth."

Acheron laughed at the irony. "That would have been too merciful an act for you. Not to mention how angry your brother would have been had you neutered his favorite toy."

His father came off the throne with a violent shout.

Acheron didn't so much as flinch. "Don't be so angry, Father. It's not like you didn't know what Estes did to me. In fact his greatest dream was for you to die and leave Styxx with him too so that he could have us both in his bed at once."

His father's curses echoed in his ears as the man set on him with the wrath of the Furies. The first blow caught Acheron across his jaw. The next broke his nose and set it to throbbing viciously. Blow after blow rained down on him.

Acheron welcomed every one of them as he continued to taunt the king. At best his father would kill him. At the very least he'd be knocked senseless enough to not feel the full pain of what they were going to do to him.

"Father, please!" Styxx said, hauling him back. He turned on Acheron who was lying on his side. "You are nothing but filth." Styxx kicked his side so hard that he heard his ribs snapping. The force of it rolled him over onto his back. Styxx's next kick landed solidly between his legs.

Acheron cried out at the unbearable pain as his brother repeatedly kicked him there until he was sure he no longer needed gelding.

"Fetch the physician," his father roared. "Let's see this bastard finished."

Panting in an effort to get breath into his abused body, Acheron was placed on a cold slab of stone, his arms chained above his head while his legs were spread and chained. He leaned his head back and laughed at them. "If you're planning a party, Father, you need to chain me face down first."

"Gag that filth."

One of the guards shoved cloth into his mouth. Acheron saw the shadow of the physician coming forward. He tightened his grip on the chains, bracing himself for what was to come.

But no amount of preparation could reduce the pain of what they did to him. Acheron screamed out in agony until his throat was as raw and bleeding as the rest of his body.

By the time he was dumped back in his room, he was spiritually numb—if only the rest of him was too. Unable to stand, he crawled across the floor to the small table where he'd left a knife from his meal the night before. Reaching up, he took it in his trembling grasp.

He was so tired of begging and he was tired of being hurt. Unable to stand another day of it, he sliced open his wrists and watched as the blood poured out.

October 25, 9528 BC

Acheron cursed foully as he woke up in extreme pain. Why wasn't he dead? But then he knew. So long as his life was tied to Styxx's no one would have mercy on him. Ever. Overwhelmed by despair, he tried to move only to find himself chained again to his bed.

He cried out in frustrated fury before he banged his head against the straw mattress.

A movement to his right drew his gaze and he went cold at the sight of the small woman who stood there. It was Ryssa, dressed in purple and gold.

She came forward and the look of pity and guilt in her eyes was enough to bring tears to his own. "I didn't tell them," she whispered. "Styxx passed out and Father found you." Tears fell down her face. "I can't believe what they did to you. I know you didn't touch Nefertari. You would never have done such a thing to anyone and I've told them that repeatedly. They never hear a word I speak... I know it doesn't help, but Styxx broke off his engagement to her and sent her back to Egypt. I'm so sorry, Acheron." She laid her head against his and wept quietly in his ear.

Acheron kept his own tears inside. There was no need to cry. This was his life and no matter what he tried, it would never get better.

Besides Artemis would fix him...

He wanted to shout out in bitter frustration and anger at the goddess's cavalier attitude.

Ryssa stroked his cheek. "Will you not speak to me?"

"And say what, Ryssa? I think my actions speak loudly enough for even a deaf man to hear. But no one ever listens to me either."

She sniffed back her tears while she brushed tender fingers through his hair. "This is so unfair to you."

"Life isn't about being fair," he breathed. "It's not about justice. It's all about endurance and how much we can suffer through."

He was so tired now. But no one would let him sleep.

Through the walls he heard Apollodorus crying. "Your son needs you, Princess. You need to go to him."

"My brother needs me too."

He let out a tired sigh. "No, I don't. Trust me, I don't need anyone."

She pressed her lips to his cheek. "I love you, Acheron."

He didn't speak as she withdrew. Right now there was no kind of love inside him. Only anguish and despair and anger could be felt. Turning his head, he looked down at the stark white bandage on his wrist. They had it padded so that he couldn't reopen the wound to finish what he'd started.

So this was it then.

Closing his eyes, he thought of his future. Of nothing changing. Of living tied down and beaten... forever.

He bellowed at the weight of his hopelessness. Then he fought his restraints with everything he had. But it wasn't enough to break them.

He was never enough of anything.

Bellowing even louder, he took comfort in the throbbing pain of his wounds.

Ryssa came running into the room.

Acheron ignored her as he tried to break through the chains that held him down. "I've had enough and I want out!"

She gathered him in her arms to hold him. He tried to fight her, but he couldn't. "I know, Acheron. I know."

No, she didn't know. Thank the gods that she had no idea how fucking awful his life was. How much pain he lived with. How much rejection.

He slammed his head back into the headboard and finally let his tears fall. Even though he was a man, he felt like that same little boy who'd reached out for his mother's touch only to have her backhand him. "Get me drunk, Ryssa."

She pulled back. "What?"

"For the love of the gods, get me something to make it stop hurting so much. Alcohol or drugs, I don't care which. Just make it all go away... please."

Ryssa wanted to deny him. She didn't believe in running away from her problems, but as she looked at him and saw the blood seeping from the wounds of his body and the tears in his eyes, she couldn't turn aside this one request.

No one should suffer so much. No one.

Against her will, her gaze went to his groin. The blood there made her sick to her stomach. The cruelty of what they'd done to him had been beyond measure—the fact that both her father and Styxx took so much pleasure from their actions disgusted her on a level she'd never dreamed existed. She would never feel right about either one of them again. "I'll be right back."

She ran to her room and grabbed the one bottle of wine that she had. "Nera?" she said to her maid who was dusting the chairs. "Could you get more wine and bring it to me in Acheron's room?"

Confusion wrinkled the petite girl's brow, but she knew better than to question her mistress. "How much more, Princess?"

"As much as you can carry."

Ryssa headed back to his room with what she had. He lay spread out on the bed with only a thin sheet covering him. Dried blood and bruises marred most of his body and the pain in those silver eyes stole her breath.

Aching for him, she wiped the tears from his eyes before she lifted his head and helped him to drink.

"May the gods bless you for your kindness," he breathed as he finished it off.

Nera came in with more. Ryssa traded bottles with her, then tipped it to Acheron's lips. It wasn't until the third bottle that he was completely drunk.

"Acheron?" she asked, afraid she might have given him too much.

He let out a long breath before his tormented gaze captured hers. "Promise me something, Ryssa."

"Anything."

"Don't ever hate your son. Please." His silver eyes fluttered closed as he passed out.

Weeping, Ryssa held him close as she ached for him. She would kill anyone who ever hurt her son like this. Even her own father. But Acheron had never known such love, such care, and that broke her heart even more. "Sleep in peace, little brother. Sleep in peace."

Wiping away her tears, she left him alone and went to check on Apollodorus. For the rest of the day she held her son close, promising him that he would never be left alone in the world. That she would always love him and protect him from anyone out to do him harm.

If only their mother had made such a promise to Acheron.

October 27, 9528 BC

Acheron lay in bed with the tip of his nose itching so badly it actually overrode the rest of his pain. He'd sell his soul if only he could scratch it. A bright flash to his left drew his attention.

It was Artemis. Dressed in white, she was as beautiful as always and he hated her for it.

His stomach knotted in anger that she'd finally remembered him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was bored."

He scoffed at her petulance and the fact that she'd come to him now. "I'm afraid I can't entertain you anymore. I'm no longer capable of it."

She pulled the sheet off him and curled her lip at what they'd done to his groin. "Ew! What did they do?"

He closed his eyes as humiliation washed over him. "They emasculated me. Remember? I was even stupid enough to ask for your help."

"Oh, that." She snapped her fingers.

Acheron gasped as even more pain tore through his groin. It ached so badly it took his breath and brought tears to his eyes.

"See? You're all better."

His breathing ragged, he was still on fire.

"Your hair's longer."

Was that all she cared about? His hair was longer? It was a good thing he couldn't move, otherwise he might have gone for her throat over that comment.

"Why are you chained?"

If she asked one more stupid fucking question, he really was going to strangle her. "To keep me from trying to kill myself."

"Why would you do that?"

Acheron ground his teeth. What good would it do to even try to explain it? She couldn't care less. She hadn't cared less when he'd begged her to do it for him. Except for the fact that she'd be bored and might actually have to try and find another man to jump on top of. Gods forbid someone else's cock might actually satisfy her. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. Not so much presently."

She gave him an annoyed glare. "I shall have to get them to release you. I swear, you're more trouble than you're worth. Wait here."

As if he had a choice? "Don't worry," he called out after she'd vanished. "I can't even get up to piss."

And his nose was still itching.

It wasn't long before his father entered the room to glare at him in displeasure. What else was new?

As always, the king looked freshly groomed. His blond hair was perfectly combed and his white robes gleamed in the sunlight.

Acheron met his scowl unflinchingly. "Can I help you?"

His father's blue eyes lit with fury. "What more has to be done to teach you your place?"

His place? That should be as his father's heir. It should be one of a revered prince.

Instead, he was lying chained down on a bed, his nakedness only concealed by the bloodied sheet Artemis had tossed back on top of him so she wouldn't have to see the butcher's handiwork. He was filthy from lack of washing and no doubt his hair was as ragged as his beard.

Acheron looked away. "I know my place."

His father kicked the bed. So much for Artemis getting him freed.

"The maids are sick of cleaning up your filth, not that I blame them. For that reason, you're being set free. But if you do anything else stupid, I swear by all the gods that I'll chain you to a wall in the dungeon and leave you there to rot."

He'd already done that to him.

"Don't worry, Father. I'll stay out of your way."

"You better." He gestured for the guards behind him to remove the shackles.

Finally, Acheron could scratch his nose again. He'd barely finished it before Styxx entered the room and tossed a pale blue garment at him.

Acheron frowned until he realized it was one of Ryssa's gowns.

Styxx laughed. "I thought you might want something to match the new you."

His gaze turned red in anger.

Before he could think better of it, Acheron was off the bed. He tackled Styxx to the floor and pounded his head against the stone, wanting to shatter it like a melon. He got in a good six solid whacks until the guards pulled him off Styxx's stomach.

Acheron fought them with everything he had, but they held his arms twisted behind his back so that there wasn't much he could do except curse them. Thank you, Artemis, for rescinding your gift.

Styxx came off the floor with a furious curse of his own. He grabbed their father's sword and would have killed Acheron had their father not stopped him.

"Take him out and beat him," his father snarled.

"No!"

Acheron looked up to see Ryssa in the doorway.

His father's expression was one of complete disbelief. "What did you say?"

She folded her arms over her chest and stood strong and determined in the center of the opened doors. "You heard me, Father. I said no."

The king's face flushed with fury. "You do not tell me what to do, woman."

"You're right," she said calmly. "I can't order you about. I have no power over you, but as the mistress of Apollo, I do have some say in what he does and who he pacifies, especially in regards to my own family..." She glanced meaningfully from him to Styxx and back again. "I'm sick of Acheron's abuse. No more."

The king gestured to Styxx. "Look at your brother. He's bleeding."

She looked at Acheron and nodded. "He's bled more than his share."

"Styxx is bleeding."

Her gaze went to the gown on the floor. "And for his cruelty I'd say he received a light sentence."

Styxx glared at her. "One day, Ryssa, I will be your king. You'd do well to remember that."

She met his angry sneer levelly. "And I'm the mother of a demigod. You'd do well to remember that, brother."

Styxx shoved her aside as he walked out of the room. Their father shook his head. "Women," he snarled before he left them alone.

Ryssa moved forward and snatched the gown from the floor before she wadded it into a ball. "I would apologize for him, but there's no excuse to be found." She snorted. "I only wish I could have used that argument to save you earlier. Little do they know Apollo couldn't care less what I thought. But that will be our secret, won't it?"

Acheron shrugged as he moved to the bed and pulled the sheet around him to cover his nudity from his sister's gaze. "I'd only be shocked if Father showed me anything other than contempt."

She let out another long, sad breath. "Should I have a tray of food sent to the bathing room for you?"

He shook his head. "I have no intention of going there again."

"You have to bathe."

Not really. Maybe if he stank enough no one would bother him anymore. But he wasn't willing to argue with his sister. "You should go and rest while Apollodorus doesn't need you."

She gave him a gentle hug before she left.

Ryssa had barely closed the door before Artemis stepped out of the shadows.

She smiled at him. "Say thank you, Artemis."

"Only if I can say it through gritted teeth."

She gaped at him as if she couldn't believe his anger. "You're not grateful?"

Acheron threw his hands up in surrender. "I don't want to fight with you, Artie. Honestly. I just want to lick my wounds for a while."

She materialized at his back and pulled him against her. "I'd rather lick them for you." She dipped her hand down to cup him.

Cringing over her caress, Acheron pulled her hand away from his groin. "Given that it's been less than a week since I had my nuts cut out, Artemis, I'm not in the mood."

She made a sound of disgust. "Don't be such a baby. You're intact now. Let's celebrate by putting them to use." She blew in his ear.

Acheron jerked away from her. Naturally, she followed him.

Just give her what she wants. Otherwise this would only continue to the point she'd get angry and probably attack him. I would rather have my eyes gouged out.

Of course, they'd only regrow which made him wonder if his balls wouldn't have done the same thing even without Artemis's help.

Honestly, there was no use in fighting this. It wasn't like he hadn't been forced to have sex with people he detested before. All an argument would do was delay the inevitable and get him hurt again.

You might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.

He turned to face her. "Where do you want me?"

The words had barely left his lips before he found himself on his back, in her bed with her naked on top of him.

"I've missed you, Acheron."

He cringed as she sank her teeth into his neck and then he did what he always did. He pleased her and took nothing for himself.

She didn't even notice except to say that she liked it when they weren't as messy as they were whenever he ejaculated. Now he lay holding her while she purred in satisfaction.

And Acheron was still empty inside.

Artemis sat up and wrapped a sheet around herself. "You better go back now. Hades is hosting a party in Zeus's temple tonight and I have to make an appearance."

He didn't even have time to open his lips before he was back in his room alone—like a discarded piece of furniture she was through with for the time being. He went to the washing bowl and poured a little water out of the pitcher to clean himself with and shave, then he dressed.

Soul sick, he considered going to a play, but why bother? It would take much more than that to ease what was hurt inside him. And as he looked around his prison, his gaze was drawn to the wine that Ryssa had brought. Unfortunately it wasn't strong enough to fill the empty hole that burned.

Grabbing his coin purse and cloak, he left the palace and went to the street where all the stews in town were relegated. It didn't take long to find his old merchant. Short and plump, the man was bald with a mouth full of rotten teeth, and standing on a corner outside the worst brothel in town.

Euclid smiled the moment he saw him approach. "Acheron, it's been a long time."

"Greetings. You have any Morpheus Root?"

He licked his lips greedily. "Of course I do. How much do you want?"

"I'll take everything you have."

He arched a brow at that. "You got enough coin?"

Acheron held his purse out to him.

Impressed, Euclid pulled out a small wooden arc from the wheeled cart that to the uninitiated or naive appeared to hold only rags. He handed the arc to Acheron for his inspection. Acheron opened it and lifted the herbs to his nose. The pungent lavender wasn't enough to overwhelm the herb that would ease him.

Acheron closed it. "My thanks. I'll need the cord and pots for it as well."

Euclid handed them over in exchange for more coin. "I'll have more of it next week. Anytime you need some, let me know and if you haven't the coin for it, I'm sure the two of us could work something out." He dragged one dirty finger down the side of Acheron's face.

He didn't know why that offended him. After all it was a common practice for whores to barter their bodies for supplies, but for some reason it cut him deep. "Thanks, Euclid." Pulling his cowl lower, he made his way through the dark alleys back to the palace and his room.

There in the darkness, he opened the lid and mixed the herbs together. Strange how he could still recall the exact amounts to use.

"Inhale this, boy. It'll make it all so much more pleasant for you."

His gut tightened as he heard Estes's voice in his head. The first time he'd been given this, his uncle had held him on the ground and forced him to breathe it in. After that, Acheron had needed very little coaxing. His uncle had been right, it'd made everything much more tolerable since it took away all of his conscience and fight. It'd made him a mindless supplicant to whatever deviant act they wanted to perform on him.

He lit the herbs and blew on them ever so slightly to get them charred to the right amount so that the fumes would be potent enough. Closing his eyes, he picked up the clay mask and held it to his nose, then inhaled until everything that hurt stopped.

His head swimming, he stumbled to his bed and lay down so that he could watch the ceiling tilt and spin.

Apostolos? Where are you?

"Hello, voices," he breathed. They were always louder when he was high.

We want you to come home, Apostolos. Tell us where to find you.

He looked around the room and sighed. "I'm in a dark room."

Where?

Acheron laughed, then rolled over onto his stomach and groaned at the sensation of the coarse linen brushing against his body. He drew a ragged breath as his cock hardened. Artemis had thrown him out too soon. The drug was making him incredibly horny.

Then again, she didn't really care for the mess he made. Every time he came in her bed, she wrinkled up her nose distastefully. It was why it was easier for him to just screw her and please himself later when he was alone.

He sucked his breath in sharply as the sheet rubbed against his nipples. The pleasure was excruciating. But he refused to touch himself.

He didn't want release or any kind of pleasure. He just wanted peace.

More than that he wanted to be touched by someone who gave a fuck about him. And that certainly wasn't him.

November 12, 9528 BC

Acheron sat outside on his balcony, letting the chill winds freeze him as he realized his sister was in the window watching him. He motioned for her to come outside.

Her teeth started chattering immediately. "It's freezing out here."

"Feels good to me." He was actually sweating.

Ryssa narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she neared him. "What have you done?"

"I've done nothing. Absolutely nothing." He barely had the strength to eat.

She shook her head in anger. "You've been taking those drugs again, haven't you?"

Acheron looked away.

She gripped his face in her hand and forced him to look at her. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Don't start on me, Ryssa."

"Acheron, please," she said, her voice strained as she released him. "You're killing yourself."

He wished. Glancing down, he turned his wrist out to look at the perfect unblemished skin. There was no trace of the cut that had severed his skin and veins. "I can't kill myself. The gods know I've tried. There's no way out for me so here I sit, biding my time until the gods end my life, while I try to stay out of everyone's way."

She brushed the hair back from his eyes. "You look terrible. When was the last time you bathed?"

He shoved her away, angry over the question. "The last time I bathed, I was accused of rape and then castrated. No offense, I'd rather smell."

She shook her head. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know." He scratched at the beard on his cheeks. "What difference does it make? It's not like Father's going to let me starve to death. I'll eat when I have to. When they make me."

The next thing he knew, Ryssa reached up and grabbed his ear in a tight pinch. "You're going to eat right now."

"Hey!" Acheron snapped, but she refused to let go. With a determined grip, she pulled him from the railing and forced him to follow her to her room. She was so much smaller than him that he was bent almost double and had to struggle to keep up with her frenetic steps. "You do know that I'm bigger than you," he reminded her.

"Yes, but I'm meaner and madder." She snatched her hand away, making a lasting sting on his lobe.

Frowning, he rubbed his ear.

She pointed at her dressing table where a plate of fruit, bread and cheese rested. "Sit down and eat. Now!"

"Yes, Your Majesty." As Acheron reached for a bit of cheese, he caught his reflection. Sunken eyes, tinged by red stared out from an unkempt man. His beard was ragged, his cropped hair shaggy. He looked like an old man instead of a youth.

That was okay, he felt even older than he looked. Averting his gaze, he placed the cheese in his mouth while Ryssa poured him a goblet of wine.

She left him to walk over to the door that led to her maid's quarters. "Nera? Would you have them draw me a bath in my room? And find me a razor."

Acheron didn't speak as he ate. Honestly, he was starving. The maids hadn't been bringing food for him and he didn't dare go in search of it on his own given the way his father had reacted the last time he found him near the kitchen and dining room.

When Ryssa returned, she was holding Apollodorus. The baby smiled the moment he saw Acheron and reached for him.

Unable to deny him, Acheron took him into his arms. "Greetings, bit. How have you been?"

He squealed in response.

Acheron look up at Ryssa as she folded cloth for a diaper. "He's grown since I last saw him."

"Yes, he has."

Acheron glanced at the baby's thinning hair. "You're getting bald too."

Ryssa laughed suddenly. "You did the same thing. All of your black hair fell out and then it came back in blond."

Apollodorus reached out and tugged at his beard.

Acheron held the baby out to Ryssa. "I'm too dirty to hold him."

"He doesn't mind. He's just glad to see his uncle again. He's missed you."

He'd missed him too.

Acheron hugged the baby close even as he glared at his sister. "That's unfair, Ryssa. You know what would befall me if Father ever found me here. And if he ever saw me near Apollodorus..."

She placed her hand on his shoulder. "I know, Acheron."

The door opened to admit servants who brought in a large tub and hot water. Ryssa took the baby while Acheron ate more.

Once the bath was ready, she left him alone.

With more enthusiasm than he wanted, Acheron sank into the steaming hot water and sighed. It'd been so long since he last had a bath that he'd almost forgotten how good it felt. Even so, it wasn't worth the risk to him.

"I love you, Ryssa," he whispered. She was the only one who really cared about him. Artemis wanted to love him, but she was a goddess and hers was a selfish love—very much like Estes's. So long as he pleased her, she was kind. Granted she was more giving than Estes had ever been, but there were still limits on what she'd do.

What hurt most with Artemis was the memory of how they'd been in the beginning. He craved that innocence on his part. That feeling that he'd meant something to her...

Trying not to think about it, he reached for the razor to finally scrape his cheeks smooth. Once he was finished, he dragged himself out of the tub and reached for his clean clothes.

After he was dressed, he knocked on the door to the maid's room. "I'm finished. Thank you."

Дата добавления: 2015-10-30