I'll admit, horses are beyond me. I grew up as a city girl. My second and last time on a horse's back ended with me getting thrown into the mud. It didn't leave me eager to repeat the experience.
At the same time, horses were a major part of life in historical times and many a mythic one.
I'd already established that Troile, my main character from 'Aissa and Polyxena' (my m/m mythical Work in Progress) had a horse. When attempting to come up with an assumed name, he ended up using hers.
This seemed like an opportunity to meet Polyxena. The real Polyxena in a 'Aissa and Polyxena' freebie story. :)
“You used the name of your horse?” Cressida didn’t bother to keep the outrage from her voice. “You met Achille, son of Peleus, the child of the Goddess Thetis himself and the best you could offer him in return was ‘Polyxena’?”
Polyxena let out a reproving snort from her stall, as if letting Cressida know my name was good enough for any man or woman.
“It was the first name which came to mind,” I confessed. “Besides, Polyxena has been a brave and loyal companion.” I glanced back at my horse. “Far better than certain members of my own flesh and blod I could name.”
Polyxena tossed her mane back, appearing a bit mollified by my words.
“Don’t be too proud, Lady Mare.” Cressida wrinkled her nose and helped herself to another of the cakes we’d snuck out the stables. “You don’t have much competition in this virtues when matched against Paris.”
I bit my lower lip.
“Try telling my father that.” I attempted to keep the bitterness out of my voice and failed. As far as King Priam was concerned, Paris could do no wrong. When he’d appeared out of nowhere, our father had been ready to shower ten times the affection he’d offered any of his other offspring.
Not that I’d ever seen much of that affection.
“About that.” Cressida pushed her veil aside to bite into the cake, dropping crumbs to the floor. In the palace, she would have taken dainty bites. Out here in the stable, she could devour sweets with unfeigned, unladylike enthusiasm.
Polyxena nickered in a wistful fashion, stretching out her neck, but she couldn’t reach the plate.
“Perhaps you should look for a father’s affection elsewhere.” She fixed a dark eye upon me. “One who has the right to bestow it upon you.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “We don’t know that.”
“Troile.” Cressida chewed and swallowed. “Have you ever thought to ask?”
I avoided her gaze. I reached for a cake and offered it to Polyxena.
She accepted my offering in an enthusiastic bite. I barely got my fingers away from her teeth on time.
“If your true father is whom we all suspect he is, I doubt very much he’s abandoned you.” She gestured to the window. “He may even be watching you right now.”
“It’s nightime.” I gazed at the darkness waiting outside. “Apollo doesn’t reign in the sky at present.”
There. I’d dared to name him.
“No, but his sister does.” Cressida stretched out her hand. Moonlight gleamed upon the folds of her sleeves. “Neither of Leto’s children are as unsympathetic to Troy as some of the other Olympians.”
“We can thank Paris for that.” Once more I didn’t bother to keep the bitterness from my words. “What can I do, Cressida?”
“What can we do?” Cressida countered. She reached for my fingers. “Bring Polyxena, daughter of King Priam to life, so she can do what she can to make peace between the Achaens and the Trojans.”
“What do you mean?” I gazed at her enigmatic smile, gleaming through her veil.
“I mean to turn you into a princess, my dear.” She let out a throaty chuckle. “You’re a beautiful boy, so I’ve no doubt you’ll be a lovely daughter of Priam once I’m finished with you.”
“What?” I dropped her hand. “Exactly what are you suggesting? I could never-!”
“-do something so shameful as pretend to be a woman?” A sly tone entered Cressida’s voice. “Your Achille did this on Scyros in your vision.” She raised a finger to my lips. “Do you think he shamed himself or was any less the man for doing so?”
Warmth surged through my neck, pulsing through my ears, coursing down my torso. It gathered in my loins at the memory of Achille/Aissa, his burning gaze meeting mine.
“No.” I lifted my head and voiced my secret truth. “Not only was he twice the man, he was doubly desirable for being every bit the woman as well.”
Women didn’t stride like Aissa had. No one did. How lovely he’d been in skirts, his pride and dignity shining through his veils. Man or woman, he was still Achille. Child of a goddess, burning brighter than any other being whom clothed himself in mortal flesh.
“Be worthy of him, Troile.” Cressida dropped her finger. “Show your lover what a daughter of Priam you can be.”
No hint of mockery hid within her voice. Just an earnest pride she kept veiled and concealed most of the time.
Polyxena let out a low nicker of approval. After all, if I did this, I was about to use her name. I’d better be worthy of it.
Or perhaps I only fancied my horse’s approval.
I still nodded in response.
Fabulous tidbit! I went from laughter to wanting to cry to... well... ~grin~ Again, excellent!
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry your were thrown from a horse. My father, in his seventies I might add, wants to go riding with me when he visits next month. I'm hoping the local park still has their retired draft horses available for their easygoing trail rides. Be well!
Aww, thank you! Aissa and Polyxena is my Camp NaNoWriMo project for next month, so hopefully I'll finally finish it and find a home for it. (crossing fingers)
ReplyDeleteWow, your father sounds amazing! Kind of like my parents. They're in their seventies, but they're still traveling the world. :)