HERA by Iliad Alba (best novels of all time TXT) 📕

soldiers under Amulius’ command. “The Son of Ares wants to see you.”
Rhea understood. She gave the figure back to Julian, “Julian go play with the other children, I’ll come join you soon enough.”
She headed for the small hill where the Son of Ares resided. When she entered his tent it was already empty, she looked outside. The sky was darkening, nighttime was closing in.
“He went there, past that hill before you,” said a little boy who sat before the tent.
Rhea looked at him; she had never seen the boy before. He wore an old dark garment as a protective hood from the sun. She couldn’t see his face as his head was bent down, but she thought she saw a glimpse of his hand, which was as dark as the Son of Ares’, hiding under his long sleeves.
“Why are you sitting here alone?”
“I’m waiting,” he said.
“Waiting?” Rhea looked around; there was nothing but endless sands around them, and their camp which was further away. “What are you waiting for?”
The boy said nothing he kept his stare low and hummed a tone that was faintly familiar to her.
Rhea arched an eyebrow, she turned and went on the direction the boy had instructed her.
The Son of Ares stood on top of a sand hill holding his round golden shield on one hand and on the other his spear, while his sword hang from the rope bound around his waist. He watched the navy sky where already the earliest stars shimmered. The red painted horse hair coming from the crest of his golden helmet was the only thing distinguishing him from a statue as it wavered by the whispering of the dry wind.
Even though she had journeyed with him for a little over a day, Rhea always found it odd that the only thing keeping him from being naked was the short white tunic he wore to cover his intimate parts. Beside him were Nurmitor and two other men.
“Who are these two?” asked Rhea.
The shorter one who by the looks couldn’t have been older than her, smiled. He like the other one had brow length black curly hair and green eyes.
“My name is Phineas,” he said, bowing to her respectfully.
Rhea caught the sword strapped to his back.
“And he is my brother,” he gestured at the other one who was taller than him, and had in addition to a sword a bow and a quiver lashed on his back. “Bellerophon.”
“He asked me to gather as many warriors I could,” said Nurmitor. “They were the only ones I could find on such short notice.”
“You could find only two warriors?” asked Rhea.
“They will do fine,” the Son of Ares gestured at the hill next to theirs. Five men came from the direction of the village, each of them carrying a sword and a shield.
“As many warriors as he could find?” Rhea felt a sudden dread crawling up her back. “Why do you need warriors? Where are we going?”
“To the ancient forest of Altis,” he said. “There’s a person there who holds a key to the survival of your people.”

Story continues in chapter three

Imprint

Publication Date: 08-13-2009

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Dedication:
The kind of events that once took place will by reason of human nature take places again. --Thucydides