House of the Rising Son Read Free Page A

“And Hector.”
    They exchanged pleasantries as Malphas indicated the man on his bed, who was reading a scroll. He had black hair and eyes and a full shaggy beard that was the same length as his hair. “Our humans are the philosophical Monokles, and,” he gestured to the one who was sharpening his sword, “Phelix.” He had bright red hair that fell just past his ears.
    Malphas clapped Galen on his shoulder. “Warriors, meet our Atlanteans. Galen and Aricles.”
    Haides narrowed his eyes on them. “How do we tell them apart?”
    Galen grinned. “I’m the one who’s actually alive and likes to partake of fun activities. Aricles seldom smiles and will most likely be discussing philosophy with Monokles.”
    Aricles kept his features blank. “And I’ll be the one spanking Galen’s ass during training.”
    Hector laughed wholeheartedly. “I like them already.” He indicated a vacant chair to his right. “Stow your gear and join us.”
    Aricles took Galen’s things. “Go on. I’ll take care of it.”
    As always, Galen didn’t hesitate to accept his offer.
    While he went to game, Aricles looked at Malphas. “Which beds are ours?”
    â€œThe two under the window. Your training will begin an hour after dawn. Have a good night and remember, no bloodshed in the goddess’s temple. Save it for the battlefield.” Malphas left them to get acquainted.
    Aricles went to put their personal effects in the chest between their beds. Listening to his brother jest with his two new friends, he pulled out his small knife and the piece of wood he’d started carving four days ago. It was a vague feminine figure. He hadn’t seen the carving’s face clearly.
    Until today.
    He’d started it as an offering for one of the goddesses of his homeland, but now … Bathymaas would be perfect for it. Seeing her regal grace in the wood, he began reworking the piece.
    After a few minutes, Monokles came over to watch him. “You make that look easy. How long have you been a carver?”
    â€œSince the summer I first stayed with my grandfather in Ena. It was something he would do every night, after chores were finished. I was four or five, and he’d hold me in his lap and patiently instruct me.”
    â€œI never knew my grandfathers. One was a Greek hero who died in battle when my father was a boy, and the other was a cavalry officer who perished at war while my mother carried me. What of yours? Was he a retired officer?”
    Aricles shook his head. “He was a simple farmer, as his father was before him. By nature, Atlanteans are peaceful … with the peculiar exception of my brother, who was corrupted in his youth by a friend who told him too many Greek tales.”
    Monokles went rigid. “Is that a swipe at me?”
    â€œNot at all, good Monokles. You have every right to be very proud of your soldier family. As I am of mine who toiled their farms. My insult was directed to my twin, solely. He thinks the rest of his family members are backwoods rubes because we would rather till the soil than make war with our neighbors.”
    Those words seemed to puzzle him. “Yet you’re here. Why?”
    Aricles shrugged. “Our place is not to question the will of the gods. But rather to do our best to honor them, our ancestors, and ourselves.”
    Monokles scowled. “How old are you?”
    â€œTwenty, and you?”
    â€œA decade older, and yet you speak like a sage ancient.”
    Galen snorted. “That’s because my brother was born an old man. He came from our mother’s womb spouting wisdom, and with more patience than any mortal man should ever possess. He should have been a priest.”
    â€œIs that true?” Monokles asked. “Would you have preferred priesthood?”
    â€œProbably, but at the time to take vows, I had other obligations.” He’d been in