Page 15 of Achille's Earth Angel
Ange turned her face up to his. “What about you? Were you close to your family?”
“My family have all been gone for centuries,” he said softly, touching the tip of her nose with his finger. “I’m sure the historian in you would love to sit down on a rainy afternoon and write down every detail I can give you about my life, but for now, your hungry goats are waiting. Can you show me what you want done?”
Maybe one day soon he would tell her about his mother and his son, and maybe even Briseis, he just wasn’t ready today. It’s not like she could change history as it was presently recorded anyway.
“Yes, of course.” Ange finished the tea in her cup and jumped up, taking the cup to the sink to rinse it out.
Achilles followed her with his cup, the domestic ritual of performing a bit of housework together creating a close feeling that he had long since missed. The courtesans and other women he had been with in the immortal world had left him feeling satisfied as a man, but lacking as a husband. He missed belonging to someone, and having someone who belonged to him. Perhaps he had lived too long, if there was such a thing. Most mortal men longed for immortality, but they had no idea what it was really like. Especially in personal relationships. Losing someone you loved took a terrible toll on you, and often times you were ready to follow them into the afterworld just to be near them again.
As Achilles followed Ange outside, his thoughts wandered back to the question he had asked her. Her being an only child had answered that question for him. Since she had no father or brothers, perhaps he should ask Alex. Not that he needed his permission, but menfolk liked to know what a man’s intentions were towards their female family members. Alex had already acted protective towards her when she wanted to move him into her house. In the end, Angel had overruled her cousin’s concerns and made her own decision. Even though that decision weighed in his favor, he couldn’t say he would have allowed any of his cousins to make decisions like that if he were their protector.
Twenty minutes later, Achilles was lying flat on his back where he’d landed when one of the older goats had decided he didn’t want to be herded into the pen for the night and had lunged into his stomach. He could hear Ange laughing as the frisky goat pranced across the top of his body and over his face to make his triumphant get away. Sitting up with a groan, he scowled at her. “Don’t you have any dogs for this?” Even though he didn’t have a scratch on him, the goat had still knocked the breath out of him.
Ange, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to stop laughing. “W-we do have a dog, but I need to pick him up at the animal shelter. Alex put Trolley there for safe keeping until I got back to the island and could figure out what to do with everything.” Still giggling, she came forward to hold out her hand. “Do you need some help up? As tall as you are, that was a long fall to the ground.”
She broke into laughter again as he reached for her, apparently loving seeing him on the ground and incapacitated, as it were. “Look—you even have hoof prints on your t-shirt.” She pointed at the cloven marks on his shirt as he reached for her hand.
“You think that’s funny, do you?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of him.
She nodded her head, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Achilles, greatest warrior of all time, felled by a single goat...” She was cut off as Achilles held her with one long arm and began tickling her ribs.
“Let’s see how funny it is now, Angel,” he teased, alternately slapping her rounded butt cheeks and tickling her ribs when her hands flew to cover her bum.
Ange shrieked with laughter until his deadly combination finally forced her to scream, “Uncle! Uncle!”
That stilled him for a moment. “Uncle? Why are you calling for your uncle?”
Breathless, she gasped, “It means I surrender. You win! You can stop now.”
His eyes roamed over her flushed face, the giggles still in her throat, and thought her the most beautiful thing he’d seen in centuries. “Then I claim my victory prize.” With one hand behind her neck, he gently urged her head down until his lips caught hers in a triumphant kiss.
The feel of her stretched out along his body made Achilles wish they were both devoid of clothing. Her small weight felt so good against him, the scent of her filling his nostrils and the taste of her lips like sweet ambrosia. He could certainly understand why Epaphras desired her, but he would not allow the sea brat to use her as a disposable snack. She was his.
“Um...your goats are getting out. Snazzlefritz has opened the gate and freed his brethren,” she choked out in a breathy giggle when she raised her head. “We might need to get up in case he leads them back this way...”
“Holy mother of Zeus,” Achilles swore and rolled her to the side as he jumped up and lifted her up with him. “This troublemaking goat has a name?”
He glared at the offending animal as Snazzlefritz triumphantly led the rest of the goats back into the field to continue chewing the grasses of the knoll. It could be said the goat had a satisfied smirk as he passed him, but that would be acknowledging the animal’s expertise in overcoming his perceived enemy. Achilles glared right back, which sent Ange into another fit of giggles.
“My father named him that several years ago. I guess you could say he’s the team leader in the goat herd. He takes his responsibilities seriously,” Ange replied.
“We’ll just see about that,” Achilles replied, brushing the hoof prints off his t-shirt with a determined frown on his face. “It looks like me and Snazzlefritz need to have a little talk.”
With a backward glance at the twinkling eyes of Angel, Achilles made his way to the goat that was watching him approach, calmly chewing on his sheath of grass. Quick as a lightning strike, Achilles reached out and grabbed Snazzlefritz, one hand on each horn, and leaned down into his face. The goat bleated and tried to move, but was unable to free himself. Finally, he settled down, and that was when Achilles spoke.
“If you wish your herd to have water and feed tonight, then you had better get them into the corral or I will leave you out here for the foxes to eat your young,” he growled. “Now move!”
He released the goats’ horns and landed a sharp blow on the back of the animal’s neck and pointed him towards the pen. “Keyah!” he shouted and Snazzlefritz trotted obediently all the way into the pen with the other goats following him. Achilles followed behind the last baby goat and once they were in, put the latch in place to hold them. Then he turned to Angel, the glow of victory in his sparkling green eyes.
“Where did you learn to herd goats?” Ange asked, a smile on her face as she walked up to Achilles.
“I had an uncle who taught me during the summer months. My father insisted that all his sons learn the care and use of animals.”
“And here I thought you lived in a palace and only learned the art of war all day,” she mocked gently. “Your father sounds like a practical man.”
“As a king, his people were his greatest concern.” He took Angel’s hand and led her back to the cottage. “It was important to him that his children never lose sight of who actually supplied the needs of the kingdom.”
“That’s not in the records of history. The Myrmidons were known as a warrior race.”
