Page 7 of The Curse of the Goddess

“Glory be to Ouranos!” Rionach pulled away, cradling Valda’s dirty face. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“She is fine,” Arwin answered, stepping aside.

His presence brought a heaviness to the warm welcome. Valda wished he would leave her alone to talk to her mother, but knew that as soon as she freshened up, rested and ate, the conversation would turn to the coup. Who were the leaders and what did they want?

Rionach ignored Arwin and touched Valda’s waist, her eyes widening as she saw the deep red coming from underneath the heavy armor and stained the orange silk blouse. “You are bleeding.”

“It’s not all mine.”

Rionach sighed and turned to Arwin, anger brewing in her expression. “I thought you would not make it in time for her birthday! I was worried sick. You sent out no communication, no—“

“I am sorry we worried you. It wasn’t my intent. We never imagined that this group would be as big and spread out as it was,” Arwin said, waving his hand dismissively. “We are here, we made it and,”he slapped Valda’s back a little too hard for her liking. “And she is safe. Just like I promised.”

Valda grunted and straightened her back. A reflex of years of training with Arwin’s not so gentle handling. “I need to freshen up.”

“And a healer,” Rionach added, patting her hand and examining her arm.

Valda frowned. “Is the healer gone?”

“It has been days since I last saw him. Nobody knows where he has run off to.”

“He ran away?” Valda asked. If there wasn’t an Asclepius follower in the castle, her healing would be slow and torturous. She sighed and rubbed her face in frustration. “Have you tried getting another?”

“Of course, I’ve tried. But they are hidden amongst us. They don’t want to be exploited.”

“Like we exploited him?” Valda asked, clearly knowing the answer to her question. One blessed Asclepius worshiper in one castle meant the poor man was over worked. There were dozens if not hundreds of her soldiers needing to be healed. One man alone wouldn’t do. Even if the god’s power was at his fingertips, his body was of a mortal, he would tire faster than a regular healer.

Arwin chuckled and shook his head. “He is well paid.”

“By being locked up in the castle?” Valda asked a faint snarl escaping her lips. “Wouldn’t you like to be locked up in a place with no contact with your family, Arwin?”

“You are being sentimental. What better honor is there other than to work at Oberon castle? Being the royal family’s healer?”

“Being free could be better.”

“Oh, Valda. Please. That man had everything he wanted. Food, drinks, and all the lovers he wished for. I wish I was blessed by Asclepius and given the gift of healing. I could really use a quick and easy fuck.”

“General.” Rionach cut him before he could add anything to his discourse. With a disapproving shake of her head, she dismissed Arwin, who left the two women with a wicked grin and a soft chuckle.

Once the doors to the chamber closed, Rionach touched Valda’s bloody hand and whimpered. “I could send a chambermaid to your room. Maybe she will be able to clean up your wounds?”

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” Valda mumbled.

“Valda,” Rionach called out, gently touching her daughter’s jaw with her fingertips. “What did he do?”

Valda rolled her eyes. She was tired of the same question every time she left to train or prevent a coup. Her mother was suspicious of foul play with Arwin, convinced he used too much force during training or abandoned her on the battlefield when she needed him the most. Valda was tired of explaining that Arwin was not her bodyguard, and she could take care of herself just fine.

“Nothing, Mother.”

“I cannot do anything if you don’t tell me, dear.”

“There is nothing to say,” Valda muttered before forcing a gentle smile. “I will head out to my room now. I am sure Cerberus misses me.” She kissed her mother’s forehead.

“I will have supper ready for you. We can continue talking once you are feeling better.”

“Of course.” Valda bowed to her mother before heading out once again into the hall. This time, instead of ignoring the portraits, she lifted her eyes to study them, stopping in front of her father’s portrait.

Although dead tired, she took her time to take in her father’s expressionless face. The memory of his smile drifted from her mind like dandelion seeds. Though she couldn’t feel the warmth of his love, she could feel the heaviness of everyone’s expectations on her shoulders. The comparisons seeped through the halls in whispers and finger pointing, in angry disapproval.

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