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Chapter Thirteen
“A woman in love can't be reasonable—or she probably wouldn't be in love.”
—Mae West
While the atmosphere in the villages that surrounded the acropolis was expectant, cautious and even hesitantly welcoming, Divina felt the temperature literally drop the higher they climbed up the hill.
Well, it could be the altitude, but really, a few hundred yards of ascent shouldn’t make the air so frigid.
Except, it was.
Hostility, mistrust and simmering violence laced the silence that surrounded their group.
It might have had something to do with the rows of armed soldiers atop their horses lined up and down the hill. And the scowling Archons who stood before the temple of Apollo. Their faces were grim masks filled with shadows, the flickering light from torches behind them carving their unyielding expressions as if they were made of stone.
Like gargoyles.
Or whatever their equivalent was in ancient Greece.
Divina’s pulse accelerated the closer they drew to the end of the procession.
It wasn’t fear or panic, precisely, for she had utter confidence in the centaur warriors to hold their own. And she trusted in Andros above all.
But…
The stallions were unarmed. They purposely planned it so. All of their weapons were carried by the two geldings that Sorin, Ere and Ariana rode toward the rear of their group. They wanted to make it clear that they came in peace.
Divina prayed they would leave the same way.
“What is the meaning of this?” one of the Archons barked when Andros drew to a stop a few yards away from him.
The centaur troop gathered in formation behind him, in a semicircle that would be easy to defend should the human soldiers attack.
Chiron stepped forth between the Archon and Andros.
“I am Chiron, general of the centaur first battalion. We—”
“I know who you are,” the human leader cut in rudely. “We have been expecting you.”
Chiron surveyed the armed soldiers surrounding them.
“So I see. A chillier welcome than prior years,” he noted evenly.
The Archon raised his chin in wordless defiance.
“Unlike you, we are unarmed,” Chiron continued. “There will be no sacrifice. No conflict. The women have chosen to come with us voluntarily.”
The Archons muttered amongst themselves, a couple of expressions showing confusion, others darkening with ominous frowns.
They had clearly planned for a violent confrontation, Divina observed. Perhaps their lust for battle had already been fanned to such heights that they were beyond the reach of reason and peace.
All these years of sacrifice and fear. Living in the shadows of creatures stronger than they were, who they didn’t understand, who were distinctlyother. Half man-half beasts who controlled their livelihood through the Horn.
Divina could understand the humans’ need to rebel.
The soldiers were armed with the usual weapons—lances, swords, spears, axes; the row in the back with bow and arrows already drawn. But the ones closest to the Archons, closest to the centaurs on top of the hill, also held nets, whips and ropes that looped around their shoulders in premade rings.
Those were contraptions to subdue wild beasts, Divina knew. Specifically, they were designed for taming wild horses.
