She had to survive, and that would mean making concessions. She wasn't Phoebe Artemis anymore. She was Artemis, a mortal that had to get through this Campaign in the East.
...
"Very well," Artemis spoke slowly, "I will not fight. Not out of any qualities of cowardice that I dare you to claim I possess. As an Olympian Goddess, it is my duty to stay out of mortal wars. I will uphold that duty, even now. My fighting skills, those I am still willing to commit. I will help your archers train daily, along with any other units you think are lacking in their fighting skills."
Alexander grinned at her, "That is something I will definitely accept from you, Lady Artemis. Our archers, while devoted, are farmers, and hunt…woodsmen." He hastily corrected, "I do not think you would call them hunters, apologies my lady."
Perseus and Hephaestion both laughed openly, and Artemis felt herself smiling, "Yes, I'll have to agree with you there."
"Lady Artemis," Alexander said, cooled his features, looking serious, all mirth out of his eyes, "Before you leave this tent, I will swear to you on my honor that I will keep your identity a secret. I'm sure Hephaestion will do the same?"
Hephaestion nodded seriously, "I'm not brave enough to do otherwise."
"Coward." Perseus coughed heavily, his green eyes dancing. Hephaestion glared at him lightly, and Artemis could only roll her eyes at Perseus's antics.
"The three of us will protect your identity, Cleoxene." Alexander finished.
"My thanks." Artemis clipped shortly. She was grateful, but it again meant that she was indebted to these men. And to Perseus. That unsettled her most.
"Alexander, which archers do you think need the most work?" Hephaestion asked, gesturing to the blue painted marble figures that were strewn on the table, "We need to get them in shape if what Perseus reports is true."
"Report?" Artemis questioned, looking over to her company… no. To Perseus.
He had the nerve to look sheepishly back at her, "Sorry Lady Artemis. It was for Alexander's ears first."
For some reason, him keeping information from her felt like a blow to the face. She had thought he was honest? "What. Report?"
Alexander beckoned her to the table, and Artemis tore her gaze from an apologetic Perseus. She walked up to the table, recognizing the regional maps, that were quite sparse, but still recognizable. There were hastily drawn lines of rivers, mountains, and a few forests. South of where Perseus had found her after her banishment, was a large gathering of red painted marble figures.
"You are my advisor now, so you are on my war council. Perseus reported that Darius III, King of the Persian Empire, had amassed a forced that outnumbers our own. He lies in wait, in the eastern mountains. We are going to spring that trap. In the meantime, our Cretans are excellent…" Alexander seemed to be thinking which archers needed the most attention.
"Alexander, my own men from Pella are the most loyal men I've ever seen, but their skills aren't quite up to that mark. Perhaps Artemis can whip them into shape first?"
"I agree. They didn't do too well supporting the Thessalian cavalry at the Granicus. Lady Artemis?"
"Yes, that would be all right." She nodded, remembering Perseus's comments about his own men, who volunteered. That would settle her debt, training his men how to shoot a bow and arrow.
"It is settled then. Perseus, find Lady Artemis some quarters, we are moving out tomorrow." Alexander said dismissively, waving the two of them away. Hephaestion made no moves to leave.
Together, Artemis walked out of the tent with Perseus. The two guards, who had moved away from the door, reestablished their old posts by the flaps instantaneously. All around them, men bustled about, and the air was permeated with clangs of bronze and shouts that rang loudly in Artemis's ears.
"My tent is this way, follow me." Perseus said in a clipped tone.
"And why am I following you to your tent?" Artemis bit back.
"Must you always twist my words to make them sound crass?" Perseus lamented, glaring at her.
"Fine. Lead away." Artemis threw up a arm in a random direction.
Perseus turned and Artemis followed him through the winding mess of the camp. Fortunately, he had his quarters close by, not even a stones throw from Alexander's tent. Unlike Alexander's, it was pressed up against other tents, but it still had a substantial size. Outside the flap of the tan tent, there was a man, leaning on his spear. He had worn armor on, and looked rather bored of his post, a step downwards from Alexander's personal guard.
Perseus just seemed amused, "Pericles, nice to see you at your post."
The boy bolted from his slouch, "Oh! Lord Perseus! I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd returned!" He hurriedly turned, and held the flap open for Perseus, kicking a bucket full of water over in his haste. Perseus sighed in front of her.
"Pericles, I'm not a Lord, and you don't need to hold the flap for me. Just don't slouch, it builds bad posture." The boy in question dropped the open flap in embarrassment.
"Apologies Perseus…"
"Oh, don't worry about it," Perseus waved his hand in dismissal, "Just one more thing, this is Cleoxene of the Amazons. She will be staying with me for the near future. She will be allowed in and out at her leisure."
Artemis flared her nostrils as she watched that boy of a guard's eyeballs pop out of their sockets. Did Perseus just… She was going to kill him. She sent Perseus a gaze that should have melted his skull, before she turned to look at the nearby tents, trying, but failing, to fight the rising blush that rose up her neck. Could she kill him now? Even with the bustle of the nearby armorer, and dozens of tents, housing dozens of soldiers?
"Oh! Oh… Yes, I will make sure the guard rotation knows…" Pericles stammered, shifting his eyes to Artemis. She snarled at the boy, sending him into another bout of shaking.
"Good, Cleoxene, if you will." Perseus gestured towards the tent. She could feel his gaze on her, but Artemis shook it off, and stalked forwards, paying Perseus and Pericles no visible attention, focusing on channeling her fury for Perseus when he entered the tent. She stormed into the tent, before whirling around, not even looking at the inside.
'He dares to let others presume that I will be sleeping you him!? Like a common whore?!'
All her tolerances of Perseus were shoved into a corner of her mind as she fumed, her fists clenched tightly, whitening her knuckles. He would have a Hades of a time explaining this one, and she wasn't sure she'd listen. She had shot men before just for not calling her Lady Artemis!
Seconds later, Perseus entered, calling back to Pericles.
"Yes! Go on, get out of here, find yourself some food and a new bucket of water." Perseus closed the flap behind him, and turned, his eyes searching for her face, looking altogether too sorry and apologetic. Naturally, she did the one thing that came to mind.
She drove her fist into his stomach.
...
All her tolerances of Perseus were shoved into a corner of her mind as she fumed, her fists clenched tightly, whitening her knuckles. He would have a Hades of a time explaining this one, and she wasn't sure she'd listen. She had shot men before just for not calling her Lady Artemis!
Seconds later, Perseus entered, calling back to Pericles.
"Yes! Go on, get out of here, find yourself some food and a new bucket of water." Perseus closed the flap behind him, and turned, his eyes searching for her face, looking altogether too sorry and apologetic. Naturally, she did the one thing that came to mind.
She drove her fist into his stomach.
There was a sickening thud, and a gasp as Perseus reeled inwards from the blow, the wind punched out of his lungs. A loud groan followed his keeling form.
Artemis felt her hand twist violently, throbbing in earnest as it impacted with Perseus's solid midsection. She ignored that sensation, or rather, she relished the adrenaline it gave her. With a second motion, she swiftly swept Perseus's right leg out from under him, sending the young man crashing to the floor of his tent. This was met with an unintelligible protest muttered with gasping breaths.
Artemis paid those no heed. She leaned down, bringing her face right above his, "I don't care who you are, or how clever you think yourself to be. I am an Olympian Goddess, and have killed dozens of men for far less severe infractions against me. Do not, ever think that you hold something special with me. You are only a man who has potential to be respectable, but remember this: The only reason you are not dead right now is because I am forced to survive on this Campaign. Insinuate anything with me again, and I will gladly spend ten years in the pits of Tartarus to send you to the underworld."
She whipped away Perseus, and glanced at the interior of the tent. It was less spacious than Alexander's, being divided into a small foyer with two chairs, a rack for weapons and armor, and two cots. Two.
How had Perseus known that he would need two cots?
...
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