198. A Mother’s Rage

A Mother’s Rage

I had always said Zelus was too young.

He had not enjoyed a long childhood

as he should, and when he was barely old enough,

he had been stationed with his uncle Perses

leading a war front he was not ready for.

I had been terrified this time would come.

Pallas looked into my eyes, his own wide

with shock. My chest hurt as I saw

our son was not even conscious,

that Pallas could barely carry him.

‘Bring him inside!’ I told him urgently,

taking Zelus’s arms from the messenger.

How could this have happened to my son?

Pallas had promised.

He had PROMISED.

Pallas laid Zelus on the bed and I

instantly got to work. My old spells,

my old herbs in hand,

I first soothed his wounds

and cast a spell for his pain.

Then, using the sacred thread Asteria and I

made long before the war to stitch

the wound of one of my River God brothers,

whom Metis had clawed to within an inch of his life,

I stitched his arms back on.

My tears fell freely

as I watched his face for winces of pain.

When I was done, covered in my child’s

blood, I turned to Pallas. ‘How…

How did this happen?’

He was sitting on the edge of the bed,

his face in his hands. ‘It… it was my fault.

I let Perses take him too far into the fray.

Poseidon and Hades came for him.

He could not handle both at once.’

My hands turned into fists.

‘You told me nothing would happen

to our children. You promised!’

Pallas looked at me in anguish.

‘Styx, I did everything I could.

It’s war and there was—’

I raised a hand to stop him.

‘I do not wish to hear it.

My child is injured, he will take

some time to heal. It is best you leave.’

But Pallas did not move.

‘We need Kratos to take Zelus’s place.’

I could not believe what I was hearing.

‘No.’

The word was edged in poison.

‘Styx—’ Pallas began.

‘I told you,’ I said quietly,

‘I will sacrifice no more children

to this war. Not while my son

lies there maimed.’

I had to keep my children safe.

I had to shield them. I stared at Pallas.

He had failed to protect our son.

So now it was my duty alone

to defend my children.

‘You failed me,’ I told him coldly.

‘You failed our family.

I will now do what I must do.

And you will not question

my decision.’

Pallas’s grief-stricken face

was frozen for an age.

It was as though a thousand

silent words passed between us.

And then he slowly nodded.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.