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?
...
She whirled back around the face Perseus, to find him standing at the entrance, rubbing the back of him head, red-faced with a sad look in his eyes. He clutched his midsection lightly, which triggered a… mix of emotions within her. The satisfaction was a familiar emotion, but the regret was something new, which she did not desire to dwell on.
"My mother always said I was a bit rash and unforthcoming. I… I am deeply sorry, Lady Artemis. I have been too carefree with my actions, and have forgotten who I am. I had no intention of ever insinuating anything, especially with an Virgin Olympian Goddess. I suggested you could share my quarters as my wife was originally going to accompany me on the campaign… It was all arranged, but she then pleaded that she had decided otherwise a month prior to our departure. Pericles was a guard at my estate, and knew that Medeia was going to come with me. That is why he reacted so surprised."
Artemis felt her fury falter, before flickering away.
"It's no excuse, though. You are right, I fully apologize for my actions. Make yourself comfortable, I have to go see to my men." Perseus swiftly turned and pushed on the tent flap, disappearing into the late afternoon sun as the flap closed.
For a moment, she stared at the flap in puzzlement. A small thread of doubt planted itself in her mind. She knew she had her faults, and quick judgements had always been a trait she possessed. It had backfired before, and it did so again. She could have followed Perseus, but immediately dismissed the idea. The thought of chasing after a man, and apologizing to him at that, sounded distasteful on both levels. In addition, her legs throbbed in unison to her hand, thinking of the prospect
A flash of grudging respect for Perseus went through her mind. She had deliberately marched the Macedonian Scouts hard, partly to test her own abilities as a mortal, but also to test Perseus. Her mortal form held up well, which was an immense relief, but Perseus too had withstood her attempts at walking him into the ground. He was young, brash, but also strong, and willful.
She hadn't felt so conflicted or lost since her days as a young god, where the world was new, fresh, and utterly terrifying. She had learned, and the resultant memories of her past came easy: Running through the forest with her brother Apollo, nestling against her mother, Leto. Helping Apollo kill Python. Receiving her domains as an Olympian Goddess. The lessons learned throughout her time as an Olympian had taught her when to admit a fault.
An unfortunately, she had trapped herself into such a time.
But that would come later. Finding Perseus now wasn't an interesting prospect, but his men on the other hand… she could use some training, and yelling at someone was a welcome idea.
Shaking her head, feeling the long tendrils of hair flowing down her back, she made her way to the exit of the tent. It was dark and cool inside, but as she pulled the flap back, the warm glow of the afternoon sun shone in her eyes. The pain and brightness surprised her, and she once more cursed Zeus for his exile. Never did she have to shield her eyes from the sun at all in her long life. How belittling it was to be a mortal.
The bustling camp was beginning to show signs of a more complacent zone. Less activity shuffled up and down the lanes between tents, but the ever-constant hammering and baying of animals filled the air. Those noises were likely to continue through the night.
"Cleoxene? May I assist you?" The young tent guard, the name escaped her for the moment, Pericles, sounded from her right.
Artemis jerked her head over at the young man, who standing at attention. "And why would I need assistance?" She replied hotly. In other circumstances, she probably wouldn't have snapped, but the aching in her muscles and her head throbbing violently put all patience she had and threw it into a ditch.
However, it seemed Pericles had the grace of being completely oblivious, "You looked a little lost, if you are looking for Perseus, he told me he was going out to a nearby mountain, just south of the pass. An incredible thing really, since I've heard you walked the Agrianians forty-five miles last night…"
"Yes, well I am not looking for Perseus. Perhaps you could point me in the direction of your fellow men. I think I'll look at their skills."
This time Pericles seemed to see her hidden meaning, "Uh… they are just down this lane, outskirts of the army camp. Next to two big boulders. I have to stay here My Lady, and guard My Lord, I mean Perseus's tent… your tent…" He rambled off.
Artemis felt a ghost of a smile touch her lips, "You can hear about their woes tomorrow, you won't get off so lightly tomorrow. I should be back after sun-down. Don't tell Perseus where I went."
Pericles cocked his head, "But why wouldn't I…"
"Do you want to join your fellow comrades tonight? I'm sure one of them would be all too willing to take you place a short time from now."
His mouth immediately clamped shut.
"I thought so." Artemis smirked, as she passed the young man, heading in the direction he pointed out. She got several looks from a couple of soldiers, and a group of women, who seemed to be collecting lumber and pails of water. But no one questioned her presence in the heart of camp.
It was all, rather fascinating if she was being honest with herself. She had never been in an army camp. The closest place she had visited that compared to the tent city she was in was the poleis of Greece. But they had order, and if she was being honest, she had only ever manifested herself in temples and sacred grounds. Never had she walked in the slums or even the marketplaces of Greek cities. The arid smoke, and noise was somewhat reminiscent of a noisy forest, with all manner of creatures and elements adding to the symphony of sound. A blacksmith's hammering that grew ever louder as she walked past a men's garrison tent attracted her attention. She had her bow, a stock full of arrows… but her hunting knives were noticeably missing in her hands. The blacksmith had an open shop, and the warm smoke billowed out on the worn track she was on. The interior, from what she could see, was small, with a small burning fire in a pit and an old solid wooden block stump that was acting as an anvil. There was a collection of soldiers that were looking over two racks, which contained rows upon rows of xiphos, sarissas, and an assortment of daggers. It seemed this blacksmith was in the habit of repairing weapons.
She stepped forward, the overhead tent arching high above her head, tapering to a point where the smoke escaped through holes in the top of the fabric.
"What can I do for ya Miss?" A gruff voice asked.
Artemis glanced back down, towards the center of the tent, where a burly bearded man stood. He held a short stout hammer, with a leather tunic and apron, stained with soot and burns. He was heavyset, but Artemis could tell he was an experienced craftsman, somewhat similar in stature to her half step brother Hephaestus. That thought made an unwelcome thought cross her mind, but she buried it.
Other soldiers were glancing at her, some curious, some in shock, and she ended up eying one, with narrowed eyes, who wasn't staring at anything higher that her shoulders.
"Blacksmith, you have the skills to make some curved hunting knives? Small crosspieces, with tapered blades. Forearm length." Artemis ticked off the attributes that rose to mind, as she imagined her beloved godly weapons, lost to her for the foreseeable future.
The blow struck close to her core. She could barely remember a time where she couldn't summon her hunting knives. They were ingrained to her Olympian godly power, wherever she went, so too did her hunting knives.
Losing the ability to summon them felt like a physical blow, as if there was a hole within her very being. Pain was no stranger to her, even when she was at the height of her power, as she spent her days fighting monsters in the mortal world, which kept her body full of minor wounds and scratches.
But the dull ache within her chest was something altogether different. The feeling of loss, and incompleteness, something she had only felt when Leto had told Artemis that she would soon be gone from this world, forever.
She struck the morose line of thought from mind, and shook herself out of her small daydream. The blacksmith bore an interested expression on his face as he pondered her request. Artemis heard other Macedonians muttering and laughing around her, all clad in worn tunics with sandals.
A spasm of annoyance flowed through her veins, and she had to close her eyes, breathing deeply to not shoot every last one of them. Perseus's words came into the forefront of her mind, which oddly set her slightly at ease.
"Aye, I could make such weapons. It'll cost you though. 100 drachmas. Each."
...
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