Alexis of Troy (Book I)

ιβ′ - Dodeka

Twelve

The sun eclipsed the horizon, illuminating the sky in the early morning blues, purples and oranges. Lazy lavender clouds drifted by, and two birds darted by, their chirps carrying on the gentle morning breeze. Aside from the occasional chirps from birds or smaller animals, it was remarkably silent. There were no city noises. No exhaust casting a smoggish veil over the sky, no light pollution to block out nature's lights. I'd seen more stars in the sky in Anatolia than I've ever seen in my years living in the city. They were striking, glimmering gems sewn into a velvet sky.

I assumed we were further inland, with the lush forest cutting us off from the ocean, though the air still sagged with salt and moisture. The early morning air had a different effect than the afternoon. It sent a chill through me, a jolt from my sleep-deprived mind to my toes as I stood in front of the little farmhouse. It was the only thing that would wake me up, given they didn't have coffee at this point in history.

Of all the things I missed, coffee was easily in the top ten. Toilet paper, my phone, showers, deodorant, and toothpaste were on that list as well. They had a makeshift "bath," but it was too close to the pig trough for my liking. Apparently, pigs were clean, but... still... Paris told me sympathetically that he would take me to the river to bathe there, but I didn't know how I felt about him being around while bathing in a river. It had been awkward enough when he caught me bathing in Dryope's territory.

Dryope felt like a distant memory.

Sheep grazed lazily in their pen while a couple of chickens clucked at each other as they meandered by. Paris's father, Agelaus, was by the two pigs, feeding them, while Paris moved towards the sheep pen. It was pretty standard, minus all the heavy-duty equipment I associated with farms. And it was tiny. It was hardly big enough for Paris and his father, let alone with an interloper like me. Thankfully Chiron had taken his daughter into the wilds of the mountain.

From the stories, I'd known Paris's adopted father to be a kind man (he did save Paris from death after all), but that's all I knew. Agelaus was just a prop used to carry Paris forward in his destiny. I wasn't sure what to expect when I met him. Surprisingly, he was a quiet, soft-spoken man and hardy in build. It was clear he was used to hard work, though age was rapidly catching up to him.

Paris had been right in that he looked nothing like his father. The shepherd prince had dark skin and beautiful features, which hadn't yet been chiselled away by farm life. On the other hand, Agelaus was hardened and ruddy in complexion.

Despite all their hospitality, I was unable to settle. My anxiety refused to relinquish its hold, though it had numbed into something manageable by the evening. Paris was still keeping me at arm's length, the distrust palpable. The one good thing was that he agreed to help me get out of here so long as I helped him get to Troy. Unfortunately, Paris was plenty busy on the farm, taking up most of the chores, which delayed our travel by days. We were settling into a kind of routine that, while comforting, put me on edge.

To keep myself busy, I spent my time exploring the mountain with Chiron. The centaur had endless patience for all my griping and whining (I wasn't exactly a hiking enthusiast). It was better than sitting around the farm doing nothing.

"This is poppy," Chiron explained, plucking the white flower from its stem. "Demeter created these to aid in sleep. A couple of drops from milk of the poppy cures pain and calm even the most excited soldier." He tucked a few in his pouch and smiled. "They are also used to calm anxieties."

"God, I could use some of that," I mumbled, staring at the little white flower. I thought I'd said it under my breath, but Chiron grabbed my arm and held me firm.