Warrior Rising Read Free

voice unrecognizable as his own, “I choose the life of a warrior and eternal fame!”
    Tears spilled silently down Thetis’s cheeks as she watched her son choose to end his life too soon. He looked like a shining golden godling, her wonderful eaglet. Proud, beautiful, fierce and immortal.
    But he wasn’t immortal. He would die in barely a breath of time. And she would watch as he blazed and burned out.
    Bowing her head, Thetis sent up her own prayer to Olympus— not shouted with words, but spoken with the power of a mother’s broken heart.
    â€œHera, Goddess of All Mothers, take pity on me. If it is possible, let my beloved son know love and peace before he dies. Athena, Goddess of War and Wisdom, I ask with my immortal soul that though he has chosen a warrior’s life, you give Achilles the wisdom to outlive his own youthful foolishness. . . .”
    Thunder clapped through the clear Greek sky and Achilles laughed with fierce joy, not noticing the lovely peacock who suddenly appeared beside his mother. The bird stretched out its royal neck to lay its sapphire head against the sea goddess’s thigh. Then, on the other side of her, a magnificent owl appeared, ethereal in its white feathers. The owl’s wise gaze met hers, and it regally bowed its head to Thetis. Then both divine birds disappeared in a glittering of diamond dust.
THIRTEEN YEARS LATER MOUNT OLYMPUS
    â€œI have to tell you darlings, the Trojan War is making my ass hurt,” Venus said, glancing at Athena with one perfectly raised brow.
    â€œI don’t know why you’re looking at me like that,” Athena bristled.
    â€œAthena, my friend, it could have something to do with the fact that you are Goddess of War,” Hera said.
    â€œAdd to that your obsession with Odysseus and his safety, which doesn’t help matters over there in Troy,” Venus said. Then she lifted her empty goblet and called, “I’m out of ambrosia!” Instantly a satyr galloped in with a glistening pitcher of the golden wine of the gods. Venus blew two kisses at the very male, very enthusiastic beast who wriggled appreciatively at the goddess’s attention, bowed low, nuzzled her feet and then trotted reluctantly from the room.
    â€œYou spoil those creatures,” Athena said, frowning after the satyr. “And you’re the one who instigated Odysseus’s affection for me, remember?” The gray-eyed goddess tossed her golden hair. “So our relationship is really your fault.”
    â€œIf you weren’t so uptight maybe you would have a relationship instead of decades of sexual frustration and obsession,” Venus mumbled.
    â€œWhat was that?” Athena asked, narrowing her eyes.
    â€œI’m just saying—”
    â€œThat the Trojan War has become entirely too tiresome,” Hera interrupted neatly. “I’m especially disgusted by the new rumors. It was bad enough that Agamemnon and Menelaus blamed poor Helen for starting the war when it was their greed for the riches of Troy and their overblown male pride that was really responsible.”
    Athena gave Venus a considering look. “Didn’t you have something to do with Paris’s infatuation with Helen?”
    The Goddess of Love sniffed delicately. “Menelaus didn’t appreciate Helen’s beauty. The man was boorish and inconsiderate. All I did was create a little love spell to make the dolt jealous. I had no idea Paris would be so susceptible and Helen would be so needy.”
    â€œWhatever the cause,” Hera said, “it is silly that the Greeks are blaming an entire war on one straying wife and the man who stole her away.”
    â€œMan? Paris is little more than a lust-filled boy, which is exactly why I didn’t think my tiny, inconsequential spell would create such a problem.”
    â€œAs ridiculous as one woman causing an entire war, that rumor is nothing compared to what they’re saying