He pressed his nose to her injured hand and
she nodded, tying a knot and pulling it sharp. Once it was secured, they moved on as silently as possible. The sun rose higher, casting them in thicker shadows, shielding them from discovery. She was thankful to Apollo for his golden orb.
It was the hound that nudged her on, leading her on silent paws. She followed, caring only that he led her away from Erysichthon.
They could hear them, though, the faint cries of many men, carried on the wind.
And while she thought they moved swiftly, it was not her heart that shook her. She realized that it was the earth, beneath her very feet, that trembled. Not from her pounding heart or exhausted lungs, but from man.
She knelt, peering around the edge of a boulder. If they’d been found, Erysichthon and his men must have circled round behind her, for they seemed to travel from the wrong direction.
Men, an army of men, were heading north. But these were not Erysichthon’s men… They did not wear the Greek chlamys or hold the round shields of the Hoplite. They carried oblong wicker shields, carved arrows, and serrated swords. They were dressed in black, swathed in layers of fabric that veiled their faces. They were dressed as the men in the meadow… Persians.
Her throat closed, making breathing difficult.
There were so many of them. Her eyes drifted over the amassed troops. For their number, they moved with surprisingly little noise.
Unlike Erysichthon’s men. She and the Persians, likely most of Attica, could hear their advance clearly.
How far away or how many men he’d brought were unknown, but Erysichthon and his men would soon arrive. The Persians prepared, lining up in formation with hardly a command uttered. They waited, ready for Erysichthon.
She must do something. She must. Erysichthon would be taken unaware, seeking her, a runaway bride. They would not expect such a force, how could they? And his men…
She’d endangered Erysichthon’s men.
She sat back. Could she reach Erysichthon? Could she warn him? If she tried, would the Persians see her? What would they do to her? Hades’ warnings filled her ears.
She would never reach Erysichthon in time.
The hound shifted from paw to paw. His ears pricked up and his eyes turned towards the Persians.
She took the hound’s head, turning him to look at her. “Go,” she whispered. “I need his help. Please go.”
The hound whimpered once then ran, a black flash too fast for her to follow.
Chapter Nine
It took only moments for Erysichthon to arrive. Perhaps he’d anticipated a battle after all? While he was outnumbered, he was accompanied by a large troop of soldiers. Erysichthon himself was a daunting sight. Persephone could see the determination on his face, the narrowing of his eyes and the twist of his mouth as he spotted the Persians. But he did not pause. Instead, he smiled, raising his spear with blatant enthusiasm.
Persephone gasped. The Persians were too many. Surely Erysichthon could see that?
“Do not act rashly,” Persephone pled. He could not hear her, she knew, but the words slipped out anyway. She leaned forward, causing the ground beneath her to shift. The rocks slid and sent her toppling down the hillside and onto the ground before Erysichthon and his men. She landed sharply, the air knocked from her lungs. She pushed herself up, wincing as the rocks bit into her knees and palms.
She saw Erysichthon then, saw the confusion on his face.
In Persephone’s life, she’d had little to fear. Her mother was always close at hand, had seen to it that someone else would protect her daughter in her stead. She’d never faced anger or danger, not really. Until now.
And the look of understanding upon the king’s face stole her breath and stilled her heart. “You.” The word was harsh. “You’ve led me to them, blossom. To challenge me? Would you have me prove myself worthy of you?”
She shook her head, terrified. She stood, edging toward the trees. “Never, my lord. Run from this place, I beg of you.”
Erysichthon laughed, snapping his chariot’s reigns and plowing forward.
The men erupted then, Persians and Greeks alike, running at each other with angry cries and swinging swords. Several dorus flew, the nine-foot long spears skewering the Persians with clean skill.
She turned away, horrified by the sight. But she saw Erysichthon then as his chariot bore down upon her. Erysichthon came for her now, when his men needed his leadership?
She ran for the trees, but slipped and fell again. She gasped, knowing he came, and crawled awkwardly to the trees. When his huge hand caught her foot, she screamed, startled. He pulled her back. The tender flesh of her stomach was cut and bruised, and still he dragged her across the battlefield.