3. In Which the Warriors of the Round Table Get Jobs
Chapter 3
In Which the Warriors of the Round Table Get Jobs
Modern-day Olympus in the flatland region, Tellus Province
T he clanging and clamor of men in the room was almost too much for Evander. He hated being summoned to Olympus, but worse, he hated waiting for the goddess to decide to enter the room. Sandwiched between Liam and Maximus at an enormously large, round, wooden table, sat Evander; directly across were several warriors, becoming increasingly loud as they argued over the reasoning for the summons. He mused to himself about knights and a round table being a fable exclusive to England. As a boy, he had enjoyed the legend of King Arthur, but the reality was less adventurous. Wood lined the room in panels, each expertly carved with scenes of battles waged and victories conquered. The floor was marble, skillfully polished so it looked wet in the candlelight. Above the table hung two iron chandeliers on long, heavy chains. They were intricate in design, no doubt forged by Hephaestus. The table was sliced into four sections and carved into each section was a symbol for the four provinces of Olympus. Evander glanced at the crescent moon and stars carved over mountains. Cosmis province; his province. Noticeably absent was any representative from Phorcys. There hadn’t been a member present from Poseidon’s court in decades, eighteen or more, if he remembered correctly.
He tried to focus on why the goddess would need legion representatives to be called together. Generally, when she summoned them, it was by company, not all at once. A full round table summons usually meant she had need of their special talents. Or the goddess was in one of her moods, and this was a whim.
“Did she mention why she called us?” It was Liam. He had leaned across Evander, aiming his question at Maximus. Camulos poked his head out from the other side of Liam, straining to hear the answer above the noise.
Maximus shook his head. “When it comes to the goddess, your guess is as good as mine.”
The doors to one end of the hall opened, and in walked two guards. Instead of the leather armor and copper-colored tunics the warriors wore, these guards sported a deep purple sash across their armor. Purple feathers cut into a short, stacked arrangement on the tops of their helmets. They held no weapons but carried a basket between them. Behind the guards walked a goddess with dark-red hair, as if embers of a fire were glowing amongst the strands. It was bound tightly with a purple ribbon threaded through. The chiton she wore was white and had a Greek key pattern in purple bordering the bottom. She walked with a regal air. Upon her head lay a golden crown of laurel leaves. Two more sets of men followed her. They had copper-colored sashes with an owl clutching an arrow in its talons embroidered on them. They carried spears and shields that clanged softly as they walked. Their helmets had no plumage, as they were warriors and not guards. Behind them was another goddess with dark-brown hair. Hers was loose and wild, as if she had just come in from outdoors. Her tunic was slightly shorter and edged in copper. She wore a leather breastplate molded to her body. Perched on her shoulder was an enormous owl. With large green eyes, the owl surveyed the room and seemed to judge them all for their past crimes.
The women walked towards the middle of the room, pausing just short of the table. With precision, the guards flanked the table, moving like a well-oiled machine, as the room grew quiet, waiting for the address.
“Men,” began Athena. “I have summoned you here to discuss recent artifacts.” She nodded at the woman beside her. “Each province has a target to add to the collection.”
“And this summons wasn’t achievable by sending Aro?” asked one warrior.
Evander admitted he had the same question. This was indeed about Athena and her whims. He wagged his head without thinking and clenched his jaw.
Athena’s gaze blazed, annoyed.
“No,” she said sharply. “I’m not about to send my messenger out to each legion and risk her life.” She reached up and stroked the owl under her chin. Aro closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the contact, then snapped them open again. “No. I created you, and when I call, you will come to me.”
Evander flinched. Athena was vengeful. A warrior not bending to her every notion was viewed as a threat. He’d seen more than one man banished to live a life in the Shadow Realm for challenging the goddess.
“The library is our greatest asset once we are restored to our rightful place,” said Hestia. She was calmer than Athena, yet her steady demeanor and regal posture gave a false sense of security to anyone lulled into the belief that just because she was the goddess of the hearth and home, she wasn’t deadly if crossed.
Evander disliked many aspects of this life, but keeping on the goddess’ good side was paramount. Hestia continued talking, reaching into the basket. She held up a fate’s orb for all to see. The orb glowed from within; images of shields and books, scrolls and artwork flashed across it, allowing the men to view what needed to be gained.
“Why did this need to be a full table call?” asked Liam out of the side of his mouth.
Evander shrugged. “I was thinking the same. Maybe the goddesses are bored.”
“I’m going to make a t-shirt that says I survived another round table summons that should have been an eagle feather,” Liam joked.
Evander snorted, but, realizing his mistake, tried to cover it up with a quickly timed cough. Liam clapped him on the back for dramatic effect.
“Is this amusing to you?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Hestia’s hair flamed as she narrowed her eyes at them. Maximus kicked Evander under the table.
“I apologize, My Goddess,” he said reverently and lowered his eyes to the midpoint of the table.
Hestia glanced at him briefly but decided he wasn’t worth the trouble and continued.
Once she was done, she handed the orb back to one guard and took a seat.
“That is all, men,” Athena said and nodded curtly to them. “You may leave.” She turned her attention to Evander. “All except you four. Maximus, your company can stay.”
Evander had the impression of being a schoolboy called into the headmaster’s office. The two flanking him exchanged knowing looks as the other men gathered their things and filed out of the room. Once they left, Athena waved her hand towards the guards in dismissal and pulled out a chair for herself. She sat staring at them one at a time, long enough for Evander to begin to sweat, waiting until the room had entirely cleared before she started.
“Do you have an update on the acquisition of Pandora’s book?” She looked sternly at all of them.
Maximus cleared his throat. “We have located its whereabouts.”
“And that is?” Athena asked with an annoyed glare.
Maximus exchanged a glance with Evander. “Currently, it is in Texas. In North America.”
Athena narrowed her eyes and reached for the orb left on the table. She made eye contact with Hestia.
“Texas?” she arched an eyebrow. “With this woman?” She lifted it, and in the swirling glow was Ellie. She was sitting in an office typing. “You let the book get away, and now a human has it. Are you aware of the potential consequences if she discovers how to decipher it?” Athena snapped at them.
“We will get it back, My Goddess,” Maximus promised.
“I sent you both to retrieve it. That means you bring it back to me. Do I need to remind you what the prophecy says? Any human is a threat to Olympus. Any.”
The four men shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.
“We have spent centuries restoring the library to its former glory, preparing our realm for when we find the book. Olympus can only stand if we can reverse the spell, and now, when we are so close, it falls into the hands of a human.”
“My Goddess, we apologize. To avoid suspicion, I made the call in the field.”
“I don’t want excuses, Maximus!” Athena roared. “I want the book.”
“She’s an unsuspecting human, My Goddess,” Evander interjected. “I daresay, she is unaware what she holds and poses no threat to our realm,” he lied. He worried she caused a genuine threat to everything they were working to restore. Her ability to read ancient Greek had set off alarm bells in his head. But he had to keep the goddess cool, or they could all be going to the Shadow Realm.
“She is of little importance. A nobody. But what she carries is of immense worth to us.” Athena narrowed her eyes.
“I understand, My Goddess. I simply meant we need a second chance to acquire the book,” he said, taking care to keep his tone measured.
Athena rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“It wouldn’t take much to steal it back. She’s roughly the size of a small lad,” Evander said before he could stop himself. Maximus kicked him again. Liam tilted his head slightly with an expression that would have been comical had he not been about to be disintegrated by a temperamental goddess.
Athena slammed her fist on the table as Hestia stood.
“Do you question the seriousness of this?” she barked, raising her chin to look down at him. Evander shook his head. “You are to retrieve the book from her and bring it to me. I don’t need to remind you what happened the last time a company failed.”
Maximus rose, “I apologize, My Goddess.” He bowed towards the women. His arm came across his body, his hand in a fist at his heart. “My man meant no harm.”
“You need to control your men, Maximus,” Athena spat out. “Your only job is to listen to your goddess and obey her. Is that understood? This woman has the Book of Pandora in her possession. Do you think you can handle one small human woman? Olympus needs to return to the center of the world. We will finally be free of this purgatory the bitch Pandora put us in. Retrieve it and return it to me. That is what your goddess commands. Do not fail me again, Maximus.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.
Maximus nodded. “Of course, My Goddess,” he said, taking his seat.
“Dismissed. All of you. Except Evander.”
Liam cast a worried glance from the corner of his eye as he passed by to exit. The others filing out had similar looks of concerns on their faces.
“My Goddess,” he mumbled, lowering his head.
“I have a specific task that requires your expertise.”
His head shot up.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the potential danger of the book. If it falls into the wrong hands, Olympus, and everything we hold dear, will crumble.”
Evander nodded his head.
“I am trusting you to be the one to bring it back.”
“Of course, My Goddess. Is that all?”
“No. I am told this human can read ancient Greek. Is that true?”
Evander’s blood ran cold in his veins. He didn’t like where this was going.
“I’m unsure how well she understands it, but yes.”
“I am commanding you to stop her.”
“My Goddess?” he asked, confused.
“Evander, if she can read Greek, even a little, she is a threat. We cannot gamble on her being the Serathena. Risk her being the one the Fates whisper about. Once you have the book safely in your possession, I want you to do whatever is necessary to ensure the prophecy doesn’t come true.”
“Whatever is necessary, My Goddess?” Evander squeaked out. He cleared his throat. Hestia gave her a sidelong glance. Athena’s vengeance was something few survived.
“She has seen the grimoire. She might not understand the power it holds, but she is dangerous to us just the same. Killing her is the best course of action. That is your order, retrieve the book and kill her.”
Evander nodded, his face pale. He had never had an order to kill a human before. Dragons, sure. Sirens, even a cyclops once, but a human? One who was innocent? Whose only crime was having possession of a book she had no knowledge of?
“My Goddess,” he began.
Athena squinted. “Evander, how many orders have I given you?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Many.”
She nodded. “And how often have you disappointed me?”
“Never.”
“And you won’t fail me now, either. Hand me your dagger,” she demanded, holding out her hand. Evander hesitated, not knowing exactly what the goddess had in mind. He obediently slid it out of the holster near his ankle and handed it to her. As she moved her hand over the dagger, it briefly shimmered before returning to well-crafted steel. “Now, this dagger will be the one to keep Olympus safe.”
Evander took it back and slid it into place.
“You are dismissed,” she said curtly.
He saluted and rose to leave. As he walked through the large wooden doors, bile rose in his throat. He was the steady one—the rule follower. Maximus had jokingly called him The Monk on more than one occasion. But murdering a human simply on the off chance she should be the one to bring Olympus to its knees? He’d rather spend his days in the Shadow Realm than take another innocent life. During his life as a human, he had taken three. He wouldn’t add a fourth.