Hera, the queen of the gods, gazed tenderly at an infant cradled in her arms. Her heart swelled with pride she'd seldom experienced before. This girl was beautiful beyond description, more lovely than any other deity on Mount Olympus. Hera knew it, Zeus knew it, and anyone who happened to glimpse the child knew it.

The child's physical perfection was not all that stirred Hera's heart. The goddess queen was forced to share her older children moments after they left the womb. These children became powerful gods and goddesses, great beings whose presence was required in an emergent world.

Since all positions of importance on Mount Olympus were spoken for well before her birth, this diminutive child was destined to be little more than a plaything for the gods. Without the power struggles that plagued her older relatives, she would be allowed to enjoy the benefits of immortality and influence without the responsibility of leadership.

Upon first setting his royal eyes on this blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty, her father, Zeus, had bestowed her birth name Eudora, Good Gift, upon her. Hera rolled the name over on her tongue, letting the name spread warmth to her soul. She was content.

Time does not pass for immortals the same as it does for humankind, but it does pass, and before Hera and Zeus knew it, their beloved little girl became a blossoming young lady.

Older and wiser than when he was raising his other children, Zeus wanted nothing but the best for Eudora. In fact, it was his desire that nothing ever upset her. As with all fathers, immortal or human alike, he would find this task exhausting.

While Eudora's ascent into puberty was a slow process, the increase of people on Earth was not. Humanity was growing exponentially, and with this growth came greater and more varied challenges. The people required increasing attention from their celestial monarchs. Many, daresay most, were becoming downright treacherous. Zeus' infamous temper, smoldering at best, had become deadly of late.

More often lately, Earth felt the effects of his royal wrath. Storms, earthquakes and pestilences increased in number. Hades complained on several occasions that the soul count coming into the Underworld was reaching epidemic proportions. Something needed to change. Zeus tried to curb his irritability, but was profoundly unsuccessful.

Compounding his frustrations was the arrival of a young god named Phoebus on Mount Olympus. The youth was the son of Zeus' powerful brother Poseidon, the god of the sea. Like his father, he loved horses, and helped Apollo, the sun god, care for the magnificent beasts he used to pull his chariot across the sky each day.

Phoebus was both talented and hard working, a rarity on Mount Olympus. He branched out from just caring for Apollo's horses, to breeding others of his own for racing. The gods were well known for enjoying sports, and so the lad soon won a place in their hearts. The name Phoebus became synonymous with quality and excitement.

This was not the part that caused Zeus anxiety. The fact that Phoebus was turning the heads of all the young girls was. Eudora could talk of nothing else, and Zeus grew more wary as his child prattled on.

Author Notes

This is a book I previously self-published. It had few peer reviews, and only one editor - my late mother. I am now rewriting it based on what I've learned from all of you, and will republish when we are all finished. Thank you for all you help me do. The photo is the books original cover, and the work of Mark Bredt from Eloquent Books.

Summary of Prologue:

While the Greek gods enjoy a measure of immortality, they do slowly age, and in their rather lengthy twilight years, Zeus and Hera had a daughter, Eudora. Beautiful and petulant, the spoiled child eventually became a teen.

Zeus was trying to curb his overall irritability to reduce the squabbles amongst his people, but was notably unsuccessful. Eudora did not help the situation.

Compounding his frustrations was the arrival of a young god named Phoebus on Mount Olympus. The youth was the son of Zeus' powerful brother Poseidon, the god of the sea. Like his father, he loved horses, and he helped Apollo care for the magnificent beasts he used to pull his chariot across the sky.

Phoebus was both talented and hard working, a rarity on Mount Olympus. He branched out from just caring for Apollo's horses, to breeding others of his own for racing. The gods were well known for enjoying sports, and so the lad soon won a place in their hearts. The name Phoebus became synonymous with quality and excitement.

This was not the part that caused Zeus anxiety. The fact that Phoebus was turning the heads of all the young ladies was. Eudora could talk of nothing else, and Zeus grew more wary as his child prattled on.


Chapter 1 Begins:

One day, Eudora approached the object of her affection and adoration. He had just finished putting a large black stallion through a rigorous training session. He was tired, dirty and in no mood for zealous young goddesses.

 

 

"Hey Phoebus," Eudora called out. She leaned against the fence just outside his training pen. "Nice run."

Phoebus flashed her a tolerant smile as he led the fiery steed toward the barn. "Thank you."

 

Eudora, dressed in a luxurious gown, followed behind.

"Can I help you brush him down?" 

"Sure, but you'll have to be careful. He's a bit high-spirited."

"I'm not scared."

"You don't have to be scared, just careful," he said with forced patience.

It wasn't that he didn't like the girl. It was just that he knew who she was, and more importantly, who her father was. He had no intention of having to face the volatile king of the gods any more often than necessary. Besides, as a princess, Eudora had to be handled with care, and he was far too tired for delicacy.

Phoebus' young admirer picked up the curry brush and began to stroke the stallion's velvety black hair. "I'll be careful."

Phoebus took the halter off the horse's head and stroked the white star on his forehead. "As long as he's calm like he is right now, you don't have to worry. But if he starts stomping, or rears back his head, back away."

 

Eudora nodded and continued to brush the horse. She seemed intent enough on her task, but kept stealing glances at his master.

"He sure is pretty," she said.

"Thank you." Phoebus grabbed a brush and began grooming the horse as well. "Eternal is the best in my stable right now. He's strong, fast and beautiful. I'm using him to race and later to breed."

 

"Why the name Eternal?"

 

"He's one of the rare horses that are immortal. He was given to me by my father."

"You really like them, don't you?"

"Horses are my life."

"Don't get me wrong," Eudora began, "I like them too, but maybe you should get out more, you know, have fun."

"This is fun. At least to me it is."

Eudora rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Okay, Phoebus, I'm throwing a party tonight with all the gods and godesses our age, and I'd like you to come as my personal guest."

Phoebus stopped and gave her a more tolerant smile. He knew he had a reputation for being reclusive and didn't want to perpetuate the image. She was just trying to be nice. "That's very sweet, Eudora, really it is. I know how hard it is to get invited to one of your parties, and I appreciate you thinking about me, but I have a race tomorrow I need to get ready for."

"I don't know why you're always taking your horses to the human world to compete," Eudora said. "What do they have down there that makes you so interested in going all the time? I think it's much more beautiful up here."

"Well, there isn't much competition in Olympia. I'm about the only one raising horses here. Even your father shows up to the human races when I have a good one entered. He has to go in disguise, but he hardly ever misses an event."

"I know. He's always bragging about you and your races, but still, they're only humans, and they don't even have beautiful gardens like we do. I've seen their pathetic attempts at growing flowers, terribly boring if you ask me. And have you seen the temples they've built to the gods? They're dismal."

"They are our people, Eudora. Human beings are why we're here on this planet. It's our job to guide and protect them. We're not really gods, you know. We're just immortals with powers."

Eudora nodded her head. "I know all that. I've heard it over and over, but it's not our job, Phoebus. You and I don't have positions of authority. What do they call us, lesser gods? We don't owe the world anything. It's not like anyone is going to build us a temple, pitiful or otherwise."

"It's true that all our generation, including you and me, have no leadership jobs, but we're still required to look after humans. We are in, what my father calls, a supportive role."

"As I said, lesser gods. To be honest, I don't know why we bother with them at all. They don't really live very long. Their life expectancy is what, about 70-80 years? Why make the effort when they're just going to die, anyway?"

"In the time they're allotted, they have important missions to fulfill, Eudora. They need our help to do so."

"Well, I'm not going down there and waste my time. You should see the fits they give Daddy, but I won't argue with you about it. You do a great job with your horses, and the other gods enjoy what you do. Still, I would like you to come to my party."

"I can't, not tonight."

"Okay, then, what about next weekend?"

"Weekends aren't really good for me in general. That's when humans usually have their biggest races."

Eudora continued to stroke the horse with the course brush. She leaned in and smelled the musky scent of his coat. It was pleasing, but not so much so that she could understand the intense fascination Phoebus had for them. She leaned back and shrugged. "Then which day during the week is better? I can call a party anytime."

 

Phoebus took a deep breath and leaned his dark curly head against the barn wall. Olive skin accented well sculpted muscles, and sea green eyes captured attention, even when he was exhausted. He blew out his breath as he searched for the right words.

"What do you really want from me, Eudora?" he asked.

"Just your attention," she answered simply. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No, of course it's not. I'm just busy all the time trying to get established in the racing world, and working for Apollo. It's nothing personal, I assure you. Any number of young men would die to get a chance to date you."

"But I don't like any number of men. They're all boring."

"That's because they sit around and do nothing all day. You like me because I don't. I understand that, but you have to understand that makes me unavailable a lot."

"From what I can tell, you're unavailable all the time."

"That's not true, you just have to be patient."

Eudora shook her head, her blonde hair wafting around her shoulders like silk. "I'm not the patient sort."

Phoebus squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach started to churn. "Look, I'm just not ready for a relationship. Like I've been attempting to explain to you, I'm building up my stable to establish myself as a god in my own right."

Eudora stroked the bridge of her nose as though trying to calm herself. "By raising horses?"

"Pretty much, yes. As you pointed out earlier, it's hard to get into a leadership role. My father is the god of horses and the sea, and the sea part takes most of his time. If I can get good enough with horses, he might branch that part off to me. He's hinted as much to me."

"Cool. Have you talked to my father about it?"

"No, but I told Apollo. He said he would mention it to Zeus some day when he's in the right mood."

"Well, I can mention it to him now, and I promise he likes me better than Apollo."

"I would hope so."

"You want me to talk to him about it?"

"I had wanted to wait until I have my stable more built up. I'm not ready yet."

"So what? If daddy knows we'll be getting married as soon as you get your godhood, he'll do it quick as can be. I can be very convincing."

Phoebus threw up a hand as though to ward her off. "Whoa. All we were talking about is a party. I know I'm not ready for marriage. I want Zeus to be impressed with my ability. I wanted to earn god status, not just be given it."

Eudora cocked her head to the side and made a face. "Oh my gosh, Phoebus, he's already impressed with you, and I know I am. What more do you need?"

Phoebus took Eudora's hands in his and gazed intently into her eyes. "Let's take this slowly, ok? I'll think about what you said about going to one of your parties, but marriage and all, let's wait on that for awhile. I need to spend time with my horses, and you need to get a little older. I want to be sure of myself first, and then we can consider a relationship between you and me."

"So you're trying to say you would choose a mere horse's company over mine?"

"You're putting words in my mouth, Eudora. I'm saying I have responsibilities, and I need to meet those first. I would be of little use to you as a companion if I have not earned my own status. I want whoever I end up marrying to respect me."

"I am Zeus' daughter. You need no other responsibility. You're an inferior god like me, and all this horse stuff you're doing isn't going to make you a main one like your father or mine. You're fooling yourself, and you may lose me in the process."

"I never had you, Eudora. Please, just leave me to take care of my horses. Don't make me choose between them and you."

"Don't worry." Eudora began to show signs of her father's disagreeable temper. "You just keep your horses, and don't expect any recommendations from me, either."

"Don't get angry," Phoebus said. "You're blowing this way out of proportion. I didn't say I don't ever want to get with you, just not right now. I need to spend time with my horses and then maybe there can be an us."

"When?"

"I don't know when. If you really care for me, you'll wait until the time is right."

"Like I told you before, I'm not a patient person, and I'm terribly tired of this conversation. I'm going right now to get ready for the party. If you know what's good for you, you'll be there. Just tell them at the gate you're with me. I'll leave your name as my guest. And Phoebus, don't disappoint me."

 

 

 

Author Notes

All AI Images from IZEA. I started this book several years ago. I didn't get past the prologue as live events intervened and I was off for a while. I wrote the sequel to it on here first, and am now going back to the original as a prequel. For those of you who might have read the prologue, I just summarized it here. Phoebus: Young son of Poseidon. He works for Apollo as a horse tender and has started a line of horses of his own. Eudora: Youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera - She's spoiled and petulant and purely made up on my part. Eternal: Phoebus' favorite black stallion. A gift from Poseidon to get his youngest son started in horse breeding. He's an immortal and hopefully the father of Phoebus' planned bloodline.

Chapter 2
The Curse of Zeus

By davisr (Rhonda)

End of Last Chapter:

 

"Don't get angry," Phoebus said. "You're blowing this way out of proportion. I didn't say I don't ever want to get with you, just not right now. I need to spend time with my horses and then maybe there can be an us."

"When?"

"I don't know when. If you really care for me, you'll wait until the time is right."

"Like I told you before, I'm not a patient person, and I'm terribly tired of this conversation. I'm going right now to get ready for the party. If you know what's good for you, you'll be there. Just tell them at the gate you're with me. I'll leave your name as my guest. And Phoebus, don't disappoint me."

 

New Chapter Begins:

 

Phoebus watched the young goddess walk out of his barn. He had to admit she was beautiful. She had curly blonde hair and captivating blue eyes. She was small, shapely, and quite desirable.

Why was it, then, that he couldn't fall in love with her? It would be so easy to just give in and agree to marriage. He would soon have the godhood he so desperately desired. But what would he have to give up in the process?

 

He knew all too well. He had been thinking about it for years, not just with Eudora, but with any other woman. He would lose his independence, self esteem and ultimately, his horses.

No, he thought, he wouldn't do it. There was no reason to lie to her or himself. He wanted the life he had now, not one of a useless playboy with no real function. Mount Olympus had enough of that type.

He wanted to fulfill his role as a god, and to lead and help humans. It was prophesied he would be a great leader when he was born. It was as important to him to succeed in this as it was to his father who receivd the vision.

 

But did he have the courage not to show up at the party, and to stand up the daughter of the volatile Zeus? Shaking his head dismally, he guided his black stallion into its stall. He would have to think on that one.

~~~~~

Eudora was excited as she got ready for the evening's festivities. She'd watched Phoebus for years and desired him above all other young gods. Now, she had gotten brave enough to approach him. Of course he had gone on about those silly horses, but she just knew that in the end he would make the right choice.

 

What else could he do? She was the most desirable goddess on the planet, or at least in her age group, and he was more than lucky to be chosen by her. He would think about it and show up. He just had to, or she would be humiliated for being so bold as to speak to him. Humiliation, like patience, was not something Eudora tolerated.

About half-way through the party, Eudora realized Phoebus wasn't coming. She had given him ample time to arrive. She looked around for him, waited for him, and even sent her best friend Kara to look for him. Still, there were no signs of his anticipated presence.

 

In a fit, she sent everyone home, and stormed into her father's study where he was writing a book on the physics behind lightning bolts.

When she entered the study, she had huge tears streaming down her face. "Father, I need to talk to you."

He put his pen on the desk and looked up. "What is it my precious garden flower?"

"Do you know that boy, Phoebus?" she asked. She sauntered over and sat in his lap. She placed dainty arms around his large shoulders and leaned her face against his chest.

"You mean Poseidon's son, the horse trainer?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sure, he's doing a great job. I love to watch his horses race. Just the other day I was on the island of Crete when..."

"Father!" she shrieked. "I came to talk to you about a problem."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, go ahead."

"Well, I kind of like him, you know, like a boyfriend."

"Okay. He's well connected and a hard worker, but he spends an awful lot of time with horses."

"That's true, and sort of my problem. I invited him to my party tonight, and, well, he didn't show up."
 

Eudora took a ragged and rather dramatic breath. She sniffed a few times for effect.

Zeus wiped her face with his pocket handkerchief and kissed her forehead. "He's probably busy, dear. I think he has a race tomorrow. I'm supposed to go, too, and see how that new stallion is doing. Have you seen the magnificent beast? He's huge, and has the most beautiful coat."

"Father, please. Not only did he not show up to the party, but he rejected me. I offered to marry him and talk to you about letting him take over the role of horse god. He said he isn't ready, and that he wants to spend time with his horses instead."

Zeus threw the handkerchief on his desk and took his own deep breath. His wasn't exaggerated. "He said he'd rather spend time with the horses than you?" His voice grew louder as his eyes bored into his daughter's. 

"He sure did," Eudora said. She made a face bordering on martyrdom. She seemed unaware of the effect her words were having on her father. "Appears he was just too busy for me."

Zeus rose violently to his feet, forcing Eudora to scramble up to keep from falling on the floor. "He said these words to you?"

"More or less."

"What's going on in here?" Hera appeared in the doorway, concern evident in her voice. She had come running when she heard her husband's voice shaking the walls. She knew if she didn't step in, lightning bolts wouldn't be far behind.

"That irreverant kid of Poseidon's has broken our daughter's heart. He said he would rather be with his horses than her." His voice was still rising in pitch and intensity.

Hera began to wring her hands. "Now, Zeus, I'm sure whatever he said he didn't mean the way Eudora took it. You know how she is, and he's still very young."

"He's old enough to know better than to spurn our baby girl's affections. Look at her, she's devastated."

"She's not devastated, she's frightened. Dear, please calm down. I'm sure it's just a little quarrel. Let it blow over." She took the trembling Eudora by the hand and pulled her close.

By now, it was too late to stem the rising tide of his fury. lightning bolts were already streaking across the sky over three continents, and thunder tore though the air in their mighty wake.

Standing in the barn beside his horse, Eternal, Phoebus bent his head and listened to the echos of his own doom. There would be no rest for him tonight and no horse race tomorrow.

"Send the boy to me," Zeus bellowed. When no one moved, he simply waved his hand in the air and Phoebus appeared before him.

"What have you done to my daughter?" he yelled.

Phoebus bent his head in deference to Zeus' authority, but his eyes were calm and his face passive. "Nothing, sir."

"Do you deny rejecting her affections?" Zeus demanded.

"I do," he replied. He looked over at the trembling Eudora.

"Did she invite you to a party here, tonight?"

Phoebus turned back to face his king. "Yes, sir."

Zeus' face was apoplectic. "Did you come?"

"No, sir."

"Why not?"

"I was getting my stallion ready for the race tomorrow, just as I explained to her earlier." He made eye contact with Zeus and held his head high. There was no use cowering, it would do no good.

Another wave of Zeus' hand produced the black stallion Eudora had seen earlier. Even the moody stud seemed afraid of the god, and stood still as a statue.

"Is this the beast you chose over my daughter?" he demanded.

 

 

 

"I wouldn't put it that way," Phoebus said.

"How would you put it?" Zeus' eyes seemed to drip fire.

"Well, I was brushing Eternal down after a workout, actually Eudora was helping..."

 

Zeus shook his head in irritation. "Get to the point, boy."

 

"Eudora wanted me to come to the party with her tonight and I explained I already had plans."

 

"She said you two discussed marriage."

 

Phoebus blinked a few times to buy time to think. "She brought the topic up, but I told her I wasn't ready for commitment."

As soon as Phoebus uttered these words, he regretted them. He glanced over at Hera, whose own countenance had become dark. He couldn't tell whose side she was on, but knew it didn't matter.

 

Eudora simply looked scared. She had never meant the situation to go this far. She had only expected some sympathy from her father and promises to talk to the lad about his choices. Maybe a few thunderbolts to add emphasis would have been acceptable, but this was too far. Why did her father have to have so nasty a temper, and why had she been foolish enough to underestimate it?

"He is a beautiful beast," Zeus remarked in a voice that didn't seem to agree with his statement. "Perhaps you were afraid that getting involved with my daughter would separate you from the things you love, like this horse."

"No, sir. I think Eudora is beautiful and much more desirable than a horse."

"But you chose it over her."

"I told her I needed time to think."

"Good, son, then I will give you plenty of it."

"Zeus, please, don't," Hera pleaded. "Let the kids work it out for themselves."

"I will also make sure you'll never be separated from your favorite thing in the world again," he continued, totally ignoring Hera.

"Daddy, no," Eudora cried. She ran over and grabbed her father's sleeve. "I didn't want this."

Zeus ignored her pleas, though he didn't brush her aside. "I am the creator of a race of creatures known as Centaurs." 

Hera closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew what was coming next, and there was no longer anything she could do to change it. Eudora began to cry as she stepped away from her father. Phoebus bowed his head and braced himself for the worst. What more could he do?

"Now, I, Zeus, king of the gods, do hereby make you one of the herd of beasts that are neither man nor horse, but a blending of the two." Zeus  paused for effect. "You will now go forth as a Centaur."

With another dramatic wave of his hand, the king of the gods welded together the young man with the beautiful black stallion that stood beside him. A wail of pain was added to the sound of thunder that tore through the room. For a few seconds, Eudora looked upon a monstrous beast. Tender blue eyes met horrified green eyed ones.

 

With another wave of her father's hand, the creature was gone.

 

"What did you do with him?" Eudora asked. Her voice was broken, her eyes clouded with tears.

 

"I sent him away and took all memory of you and this world from him. Let him make his own place in life, a place where even his father can't help him."

 

Eudora fell to her knees and wept. Hera came over and put her arms around her young shoulders.

 

Zeus looked at both in disgust. "I have punished the impudent fool for his rejection. Get up and be happy. I did it for you."

Eudora screamed at him in despair, then ran out of the room.

"You did it for your own pride," Hera said. A scold was evident in her queenly voice, "and you went too far."

"I don't know what you're talking about. He deserved what he got. Go tend your daughter, I have important things to do."

 

 

 

 

After that day, Eudora's relationship with her father changed. Zeus missed the closeness he had once shared with his youngest child, but could not bring himself to free Phoebus of his condition.

Author Notes

All AI Images from IZEA, except the Centaur. It was the Centaur Warrior by Boris Vallejo I started this book several years ago. I didn't get past the prologue as live events intervened and I was off for a while. I wrote the sequel to it on here first, and am now going back to the original as a prequel. For those of you who might have read the prologue, I just summarized it here. Phoebus: Young son of Poseidon. He works for Apollo as a horse tender and has started a line of horses of his own. Eudora: Youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera - She's spoiled and petulant and purely made up on my part. Eternal: Phoebus' favorite black stallion. A gift from Poseidon to get his youngest son started in horse breeding. He's an immortal and hopefully the father of Phoebus' planned bloodline.

Chapter 3
White Lightning

By davisr (Rhonda)

Many years passed in Olympia and the outside world. During this time, Phoebus lived out a life devoid of the other gods and any memory of what happened to make him the creature he was. Civilizations were born and died, empires built and lost. Eudora came to love another man, one more suited to her ambitions. During this time, a girl was born who would eventually rock both worlds.

 

**************

 

Modern days:  

 

 

Diantha looked at her new gift with admiration. The three-year-old filly was the most magnificent horse she had ever seen. Even though, her family had a stable of riding horses she knew little about, she knew enough to recognize quality.

This lovely thoroughbred was an engagement gift from his family. She ran her hand along the filly's snow white withers and got a snort in response, causing Diantha to jump back.

Cassie, her childhood friend and companion for the morning, couldn't stifle a chuckle. "Oh, aren't you the gifted horse lady? Afraid she was going to bite you?"

"Not at all," Diantha said. Her hazel eyes danced in response to her friend's jibe. "I'm perfectly confident in my ability to handle her, plus, I bite back."

 

 

Cassie's brown eyes twinkled. "And what about the one who gave you the gift? Are you going to bite him, too? What's his name, Wilbur?"

"It's Wilson, and I can handle him without biting, thank you very much."

"Well, I think he's a loser and you could do better," Cassie said. "Just because you think you're average at everything, doesn't mean you are, and it doesn't mean you have to settle for anything but the most amazing man you've ever met."

"I am average," Diantha said. "Average size, average weight, average, I don't know, smile. If Daddy wasn't the Governor of Tennessee, no one would notice me at all. Besides, I'm not settling. Wilson is smart, successful and well connected."

"Diantha, how long have we known each other?"

"Since kindergarten," Diantha said. She stroked the filly without turning to look at her friend. She knew better than to make eye contact with the taller, more exuberant young lady. She knew the direction this conversation was heading.

"And in all those years, how many times have I lied to you?"

"You don't really want me to answer that do you?"

"Not really, but my point is, I'm not lying now, and I'm telling you not to make a mistake and marry Wilson the Horrible."

"He isn't horrible. You know he raises several lines of successful race horses."

"And that's a good enough reason to marry him, Pumpkin?"

"That's not the only reason, and I really wish you wouldn't call me Pumpkin. I'm 21 and about to get married. I need a more mature nickname."

"What else should I call you? You have a big head and red hair. You look like a pumpkin."

"I do not. I have a normal sized head. It's my hair which, by the way, is auburn not red, that makes it look disproportionally big. I have my father's curls."

"Which he does not wear all in his face. Let me take you to my hairdresser and see if she can tame some of those wild locks. Since you are suddenly all about being grown, I think we should start there. Look what she does with my hair."

"You're black and beautiful," Diantha said, "and I want to go riding. Besides, Wilbur likes my hair like this."

"Wilson," Cassie corrected. She snickered out loud.

"I mean Wilson," Diantha said. "See what you've done? You have me calling him the wrong thing."

"Don't blame me if you can't remember his name. The only reason you're marrying him is to make your father happy."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Let me tell you, then. Your daddy wants you to marry someone from a respected family because he plans to run for President and he thinks having that dreadful creature's father in his camp is politically advantageous."

"You're being pretentious," Diantha said. "Just because we're in college doesn't mean you have to talk like one of our professors."

"I'm sorry. You want me to put it simply? Ok then, your parents are using you to get ahead in politics. Does that sound better?"

"Not really."

"But it's true."

"So what? It's not like they're the first parents on the planet to arrange a marriage."

"Yeah, but they aren't all my friends. Diantha, please, don't marry him. He's ugly, a jerk, and about 30 years older than you. Oh, and you don't love him."

"I don't love anyone else, either, and he's only 10 years older than me, missy. Stop being so negative."

"I'm not negative. I'm honest, and what about the rest of it?"

"What about it? Wilson offers me a position in life it would take me years to achieve on my own. I'll love Wilson eventually, or at least I think I will. Besides, he loves me, and that should do for both of us."

"Are you sure he does?"

"Of course."

"Did he tell you?"

"We haven't actually gotten to that part, but I'm sure he must. Why else would he have asked me to marry him, and then send me this beautiful horse?"

"It came from his father, Diantha, who wants you to marry his disgusting son, whom some have suggested is actually in love with another, less notable woman."

Diantha grew quiet while she considered what Cassie had said. This time she turned around to face her friend. She was beautiful in a way that came naturally and couldn't be provided by any amount of hairdressers. She was, also, the closest thing she had to a sister.

"Cassie, you really shouldn't pass on rumors. That's not kind to me or Wilson."

"I'm not trying to be kind. I'm trying to be straight with you. As I said, there's more to you than you give yourself credit for."

"I know you think what you're doing is for my own good," Diantha said, "but if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it right now. In fact, I have a better idea. Why don't we get on with our farewell ride?"

"Sure. Can I ride your new filly?"

"No, but you can ride Nutmeg. That's why she's saddled up."

Diantha pointed outside the barn to where her roan mare stood waiting.

Cassie shrugged and walked outside, apparently setting her arguments aside. Diantha followed, leading the filly.

"There's my beautiful girl." Cassie stroked the roan mare on her neck. "I'd rather ride her any old day."

Diantha brightened up. "I have an idea. Since I'll have a whole stable full of new horses, why don't you take Nutmeg home with you? It'll remind you of our youth, and how we always went riding together."

"You're not dying Diantha, just getting married. Now who's sounding gloomy?"

"I'm sorry, you're right, but please keep Nutmeg, she always did like you."

"Okay, but only if you promise you'll keep in touch."

"Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, you're the one talking about one last ride, and all."

"I'm sorry. I guess it's just because I don't know what's ahead of me in life. Once I get married, I'm afraid I'll lose a lot of autonomy."

"Why?" Cassie raised a disapproving eyebrow. "I don't think that's how marriage is supposed to work."

Diantha climbed into the English saddle Wilson had provided with the horse. She was definitely more comfortable in the western style she'd been raised with. It was another adjustment she would have to make.

"I didn't mean it like it sounded, it's just my life is probably going to be all tied up with social events. I don't know how much time I'll have to do things like ride horses from now on."

"Or if Wilson will approve of you running around with an old friend, especially one that's a minority."

"Cassie, that's not fair. You know I don't feel that way."

Cassie climbed on Nutmeg's back. "You don't, but I'm not so sure the same is true about Wilson."

"I'll discuss it with him this evening," Diantha said, "but for right now, we'd better get riding before it gets late."

Cassie patted Nutmeg on her firm neck. "Ok, I'll ease up. I just want you to think about all sides of this decision before you end up doing something you'll regret later."

"So noted."

"What's the filly's name?"

"I don't remember exactly. She came with some long pedigree name that starts with Princess something or other. My mother and I thought of a new name. We're calling her White Lightning."

"Is she that intoxicating?"

Diantha laughed. She loved her friend's wonderful sense of humor. "We chose it because of her speed, but there is so much more to her than just that. She has the feeling of a certain fire in her soul that courses through her veins like blood. I feel it every time I touch her."

"Just like her new owner."

"Me? Oh please, I've got to be about the dullest and most boring person alive."

"That's not true. You were never really outgoing in school, but you were no shrinking violet, either. You're a leader and crusader. It's in your spirit. You just haven't found anything worth fighting for since you got the whole biology class to sponsor a Black Rhino at the zoo."

"He was part of an endangered species, and I got chemistry to adopt a polar bear the next year."

"Exactly my point. Now, if you'd stop doubting yourself, and remember your own worth, you wouldn't be marrying someone you don't love."

"I don't have any choice."

Cassie shook her head, her bright eyes growing intense. "You always have a choice, and what about your dreams?"

"Which ones are those?"

"Diantha, we're in nursing school. What about becoming a neonatal intensive care nurse like we've always talked about?"

"That was just a silly pipe dream. I'm supposed to marry a man who can financially take care of me so I don't have to work."

"Who says?"

"My parents, aunts, uncles, and just about everyone I know except you."

"That's because I'm smart, and they're all selfish. Come on, you felt a career was important last year when we started nursing school together."

"I was younger then and more naive. It seems you'll have to finish the dream for both of us."

"Oh, I'll finish it alright, and the man I marry someday will support my decision," Cassie said. She climbed into the saddle on the roan mare, "and you know you should finish, too. You're good at nursing. All our instructors have said so. You're brilliant, and you have a heart for sick babies."

"Well, my fiance isn't ok with it, so I will be dropping out after this semester. Come on, let's ride through the woods on the old trails. For now, I want to just get out and forget about everything for a while."

"Fair enough."

 

Diantha glanced forward, her eyes avoiding Cassie's. How could she tell her best friend that her heart ached to go back to life as it had been just a few weeks ago, a time before her parents' ultimatum. They were forcing her to put aside her own aspirations or be cut off financially. She had no clue how to complete nursing school without their support. Somehow, she always knew it would come to this, but did it have to hurt so bad? 

The two girls trotted their horses toward a wooded trail behind the ranch home belonging to Diantha's family. As they had done since they were children, they plodded along and pretended the world was a fair and beautiful place.

They felt the morning sun warm their faces, and listened to the echoing sound of birds exchanging songs as had been done for generations untold. Once more they were two friends out enjoying a spring day together. If only it could have stayed that way.

 

 

Author Notes

All AI Images from IZEA. The first picture of White Lightning, I got from Debi pick-Marquette I started this book several years ago. I didn't get past the prologue as live events intervened and I was off for a while. I wrote the sequel to it on here first, and am now going back to the original as a prequel. Diantha: Female protagonist. Born and raised in Tennessee. Her father is the Governor of Tennessee. She is going to college to study pediatrics. Cassie: Diantha's childhood best friend. Tries to talk her out of making a bad choice marrying someone she doesn't love. Wilson: Diantha’s fiance. Rich, well connected, but doesn't love Diantha. The feeling is mutual. White Lightning: Diantha's new filly... a gift from Wilson's family Nutmeg: Diantha's childhood horse and Cassie's ride for the morning walk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Phoebus: Young son of Poseidon. He works for Apollo as a horse tender and has started a line of horses of his own. Eudora: Youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera - She's spoiled and petulant and purely made up on my part. Eternal: Phoebus' favorite black stallion. A gift from Poseidon to get his youngest son started in horse breeding. He's an immortal and hopefully the father of Phoebus' planned bloodline.

Chapter 4
A Parting of Friends

By davisr (Rhonda)

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.

End of Last Chapter: 

 

The two girls trotted their horses toward a wooded trail behind the ranch home belonging to Diantha's family. As they had done since they were children, they plodded along and pretended the world was a fair and beautiful place.

They felt the morning sun warm their faces, and listened to the echoing sound of birds exchanging songs as had been done for generations. Once more they were two friends out enjoying a spring day together. If only it could have stayed that way.

 

Beginning of New Chapter:

 

"I'll race you to the windmill," Cassie said. She kicked her horse and headed toward their favorite landmark.

"You can race, but you can't win," Diantha responded, as she had so many times before.

It didn't take more than a nudge to encourage the nimble racehorse into action. On what seemed to be the wings of Hermes, himself, White Lightning leapt forward, leaving Cassie and Nutmeg in a shower of fertile Tennessee soil.

As soon as they arrived at the windmill, Lightning came to an abrupt halt and whirled around as though waiting for the others to catch up. Diantha could almost imagine a grin on the filly's young face.

"What just happened?" Cassie asked.

Diantha brushed her unruly hair out of her eyes. "I have no idea. I just touched her sides with my heel and the next thing I knew I was sitting here waiting on you."

Cassie shook her head in disbelief. "That's crazy. What was it like?"

"Exhilarating," Diantha said. "Like riding the wind."

"Oh, girl, you are so going to have to let me try her out."

"I'll make you a deal. You can ride White Lightning if you won't talk about my future anymore."

"I don't know if I can promise that," Cassie said, "But I'll try, if you promise to think about what I've said."

Diantha sighed and subconsciously stroked her forehead in a gesture of self-comfort. "I think about it all the time."

Seemingly aware of the growing anxiety in Diantha's body language, Cassie nodded. "You've let your parents run your life for too long. Protecting and being concerned is normal, controlling your future just isn't their job."

"I know, but..."

"But I agreed to drop it, so I will. Love you, girl. I'll always be here for you." Little did she know that promise would be short lived.

Diantha nodded back and smiled. The two friends set off down a trail that stretched away from the windmill and skirted the outer edge of a deep forest, marking the beginning of the Governor's property.

 

 

 

 

 

They hadn't gone far before they were joined by a rider on a huge bay stallion. It wasn't unheard of for other riders to use the path, but it was rare.

"Good morning," the man began. He tipped his brown cowboy hat to Diantha and Cassie.

"Good morning," Diantha replied through pursed lips. "Can I help you?"

"No, I was just out riding and heard your voices. I decided to see if you'd mind some company."

"Actually," Diantha said, "my father has a rule about my riding with people he doesn't know. He's very protective."

"As well he should be," the man said. "You never know when a stranger might be up to no good."

"I'm glad you understand, so if you would excuse us, we'll continue alone."

"I'll tell you what," he continued, "I'll keep an eye on you by riding along and making sure no one bothers you."

Cassie stared at the burly man. "I think my friend wants you to leave."

"Does she really? Well, pardon me for intruding. I heard this was a public trail. I didn't want to ride alone on such a beautiful morning. But, if you really want me to go, I guess I have no other choice."

"I guess not," Cassie said.

The dark-haired man reined his horse in as though to leave, and then stopped.

 

 

 

"You're Diantha Evans, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"The governor's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then I can't leave. I was sent here to see you by a mutual friend."

"Oh, who?"

"Diantha, let's go," Cassie urged, tugging on her best friend's sleeve. "I have a bad feeling."

"Do you?" the man asked. "Then leave. I'm not here for you."

For a moment frozen in time, the three equestrians sat still, only their eyes traveling around the circle they had made.

The man's countenance betrayed a mixture of scorn and amusement, but his blue eyes were dispassionate in the manner of a hired sociopath.

Cassie's eyes were protective, indignant, Diantha's fearful and resigned.

"Diantha go," Cassie said. She carefully maneuvered Nutmeg between the man and her friend. "Get out of here, now."

 

 

 

"Why?" Diantha asked. "I can't leave you here with this guy."

"Because you're worth a lot of money, young lady," the man said, "And it appears your friend has a greater understanding of that fact than you do."

He maintained his former stance, not guiding his horse either direction and not showing any concern about Cassie's movement between them. "I'm here to take you with me."

"Well, I'm not going," Diantha said. She raised her chin defiantly, but her face still showed practiced submission.

Again, there was a tense silence and then, so quickly the girls didn't have time to react, the man drew a gun out of his saddle bag and aimed it at Diantha's head.

 

In that same moment, Nutmeg reared and struck out with her right forehoof, catching the edge of the gun. It fired and the old mare fell to the ground with a thud, pinning Cassie's leg beneath.

Diantha looked on in horror as the scene unfolded. What should she do?

"Diantha, go!" Cassie ordered again. "We're both okay." She picked up a rock and threw it at White Lightning, who ignored her.

Nutmeg raised her head and screamed something to the filly. White Lightning bobbed her head and whinnied back.

Turning to face the woods, she ran with the speed she was bred for and according to the fire in her soul.

Author Notes

Diantha is portrayed here as submissive and indecisive. It is intentional. She is a flawed character that will grow throughout the story and deal with the growing knowledge that she has choices and a voice. All AI Images from IZEA. I started this book several years ago. I didn't get past the prologue as live events intervened and I was off for a while. I wrote the sequel to it on here first, and am now going back to the original as a prequel. Diantha: Female protagonist. Born and raised in Tennessee. Her father is the Governor of Tennessee. She is going to college to study pediatrics. Cassie: Diantha's childhood best friend. Tries to talk her out of making a bad choice marrying someone she doesn't love. Wilson: Diantha's fiance. Rich, well connected, but doesn't love Diantha. The feeling is mutual. White Lightning: Diantha's new filly... a gift from Wilson's family Nutmeg: Diantha's childhood horse and Cassie's ride for the morning walk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Phoebus: Young son of Poseidon. He works for Apollo as a horse tender and has started a line of horses of his own. Eudora: Youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera - She's spoiled and petulant and purely made up on my part. She's also the indirect reason Phoebus is turned into a Centaur. Eternal: Phoebus' favorite black stallion. A gift from Poseidon to get his youngest son started in horse breeding. He's an immortal and hopefully the father of Phoebus' planned bloodline.

Chapter 5
Flight From Danger

By davisr (Rhonda)

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.

End of last chapter:

 

In that same moment, Nutmeg reared and struck out with her right forehoof, catching the edge of the gun. It fired and the old mare fell to the ground with a thud, pinning Cassie's leg beneath.

Diantha looked on in horror as the scene unfolded. What should she do?

"Diantha, go!" Cassie ordered again. "We're both okay." She picked up a rock and threw it at White Lightning, who ignored her.

Nutmeg raised her head and screamed something to the filly. White Lightning bobbed her head and whinnied back.

Turning to face the woods, she ran with the speed she was bred for and according to the fire in her soul.

 

 

Beginning of new Chapter:

 

The menacing assailant jerked his bay around and headed after the fleeing pair. Diantha glanced over her shoulder, mostly in fear, partly out of curiosity. He was closing the distance between them rapidly. Who was this man, and why did he want her so badly?

"Leave me alone," she cried out, and then more to herself, "I couldn't be worth that much."

"Not happening," came the response. "I have instructions to bring you back."

Now he was looking at her like a wayward child.

Diantha leaned against White Lightning's neck and said, "Get me out of here." Lightning snorted and bobbed her head.

Rather than pick up speed, though, the filly turned and headed into the thick woods they had been skirting.

At first, Diantha was surprised at the change in direction, but quickly figured out why Lightning had chosen it.

On open ground, the young filly wouldn't have been a match for the powerful bay stallion. In the woods, however, the smaller horse had the advantage.

Diantha felt a surge of energy and purpose travel through the reins she held firmly. She didn't understand a lot about horses, but did know there was often a sacred bond between them and their riders.

 

Much was communicated by touch, the set of ears and the bobbing of heads. The nonverbals Lightning was sending out were enough to convince Diantha the horse knew what she was doing.

 

"You've got this, girl," Diantha said. She relaxed and let her new friend guide her where she wanted.

For quite some time, Diantha and her pursuer struggled through the thickening woods. The distance between them neither increased nor decreased for long. Fear and anger became as palpable as the scent of Red Maple and Sycamore.

The man shot at her several times, but each time, the bullet skidded harmlessly into the woods. It wasn't really the shooting that alarmed her. Diantha had a feeling that if he had really meant to hit her, he would have done so. No, he wanted her alive. The shots were just meant to intimidate.

What did alarm her, though, was his increasing anger and how it played out through his screams and countenance. His voice was loud, reverberating off the trees like the report of a cannon, and those eyes... those eyes... red as flames.

 

 

 

Between the jostling of her ride and the terror behind, Diantha was growing weary. Her legs ached from holding onto Lightning's sides, and her arms were bruised and stinging from fending off branches.

She had almost given up hope, when a flock of sparrows, disrupted by the equestrians, flew into the man's path. Terrified, the bay stallion reared to his feet and pawed at the offending birds. For just a moment, the man was halted as he got control of the situation.

Taking advantage, White Lightning broke away from the treacherous hunter, carrying her young rider deeper into the woods.

As Diantha heard the pursuit dropping further back, she began to have hope for the first time that morning. She no longer mused over why the man was chasing her, but was glad enough that she and Lightning were winning the race.

 

It wasn't much longer before all sounds of pursuit had disappeared. Diantha believed they had escaped the danger. The signals from the horse seemed to agree with her assessment.

Relieved, but tired, Diantha tried to halt her runaway mount. She pulled on the reins, patted her firmly on the neck, and even tried once to make her run in a circle as she had been taught. Nothing worked. 

Though slowing from the previous gallop, White Lightning cantered on as though on a mission of her own. She appeared to be following some primordial path only she could see. She would glance at the ground from time to time, or out at the surrounding thicket as though searching for markings. Diantha wondered where the filly could possibly be heading with such determination.

Morning wore away into day, and day into evening as horse and rider swept further away from the society Diantha had known her entire life. With each mile that passed, strangely, her anxieties evaporated with them.

In the depths of a wood older, it seemed, than time itself, she could forget about her horrid fiance, Wilson, and of her lost dream of becoming a nurse. She could forget about her parents trading her life for a more promising one of their own.

 

Mostly, she could forget about the large man who had tried to kidnap her. Fears, deeply embedded in her subconscious mind, flowed out of her and into the protective limbs of the trees.

 

 

 

 

One worry that refused to leave, though, was the one about Nutmeg who had taken a bullet for her. She worried about Cassie, too, and wondered if she had made it back to safety and sent help her way.

 

She doubted anyone would be able to track them even if Cassie had been successful. For now, she would have to tuck her worries away. There was nothing she could do about her situation, and the last thing Cassie had said was that she and Nutmeg were okay. She would hold fast to that hope.

As the night grew old, the horse still continued to press forward. The air became stale and cold, and the forest dark and frightening. Strange looking trees hung mossy branches across their path, tickling Diantha's nose and face as she passed through. They looked in the dim moonlight like old men waving them forward.

As the day had before, night wore away and found horse and rider still making their way through dense foliage. Diantha was now beyond the point of reasoning. Not only had she given up hope of finding civilization, but she had quit caring whether or not they did.

 

Her world only involved the brutal saddle she sat in and the filly that picked her way carefully through underbrush. They were not traveling fast, anymore. They had quit doing that hours ago, but they were still making amazing speed through woods so thick a squirrel would have had trouble penetrating it.

The strange thing was, there really did appear to be a trail White Lightning was following. In the areas she trotted, limbs gave way, and bushes fell back. Where was the filly going, and how did she know the way to choose? Diantha was too tired to contemplate or reason. She could only trust.

 

 

 

 

 

By late morning, just as Diantha was sure she could endure no more, the forest ended at the base of an enormous mountain that seemed to stretch to the sky. The bright morning sun, shielded before by the trees, sent painful darts into eyes that already burned in their sockets. The crisp air stung her parched throat.

 

With what was left of her youthful energy, Diantha pulled on the reins of the equally exhausted filly. White Lightning, finally, eased to a stop.

Diantha finally let her exhausted body slip off the horse and onto the chilly leaf-covered ground. Immediately, she began to feel stronger, almost as though the earth itself was restoring resilience into her fatigued body. She stretched out flat and let the energy from the ground flow into her. She licked the dew off of emerald colored leaves and began to quench her thirst.

 

 

 

As soon as she could, she glanced up and saw white withers trembling in the morning light, and lather soaking snowy fur. The weary filly gazed over at her with a look of victory in her big brown eyes, and then lowered her head and sank to the ground beside her mistress. With returning strength, Diantha loosened the cinch on White Lightning's saddle and pushed it off onto the spongy earth. Tenderly, she pulled off her bridle. White Lightning whinnied weakly in response.

"Thanks, girl," Diantha said. She stroked the filly's shuddering neck. "You saved my life. You overdid it, maybe, but we got away, didn't we?"

White Lightning whinnied again and bobbed her head up and down as though in answer. She then laid it on the ground and closed her eyes. She had given all she had to give.

Diantha bowed her head in exhaustion, too, but didn't dare fall asleep. Somehow, she had to get the two of them back to her family and friends. But what could she do? She wasn't exactly the explorer type. She didn't even like to spend the night in a tent. How was she going to find the trail back home, especially as weak as they had both become?

"Great," she said, "now what are we going to do?"

White Lightning sort of grunted in reply.

"Well, I know you're not taking me home, but we have to get out of here somehow, don't we?"

 

A deep, resonant voice boomed out, startling both horse and rider.

"Do you, really?" it asked, and then added, "Can you?"

 

Diantha's first thought was that the kidnapper had managed to follow them and that their flight had been in vain.

 

 

 

Author Notes

Diantha is portrayed here as submissive and indecisive. It is intentional. She is a flawed character that will grow throughout the story and deal with the growing knowledge that she has choices and a voice. All AI Images from IZEA. Artwork at the beginning from Debi Pick-Marquette Diantha: Female protagonist. Born and raised in Tennessee. Her father is the Governor of Tennessee. She is going to college to study pediatrics. Cassie: Diantha's childhood best friend. Tries to talk her out of making a bad choice marrying someone she doesn't love. Wilson: Diantha's fiance. Rich, well connected, but doesn't love Diantha. The feeling is mutual. White Lightning: Diantha's new filly... a gift from Wilson's family Nutmeg: Diantha's childhood horse and Cassie's ride for the morning walk. Large Stranger: Man hunting Diantha for some reason, currently unknown. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Phoebus: Young son of Poseidon. He works for Apollo as a horse tender and has started a line of horses of his own. Eudora: Youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera - She's spoiled and petulant and purely made up on my part. She's also the indirect reason Phoebus is turned into a Centaur. Eternal: Phoebus' favorite black stallion. A gift from Poseidon to get his youngest son started in horse breeding. He's an immortal and hopefully the father of Phoebus' planned bloodline.

Chapter 6
A Strange Meeting

By davisr (Rhonda)

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.

End of Last Chapter:

 

Diantha bowed her head in exhaustion, too, but didn't dare fall asleep. Somehow, she had to get the two of them back to her family and friends. But what could she do? She wasn't exactly the explorer type. She didn't even like to spend the night in a tent. How was she going to find the trail back home, especially as weak as they had both become?

"Great," she said, "now what are we going to do?"

White Lightning sort of grunted in reply.

"Well, I know you're not taking me home, but we have to get out of here somehow, don't we?"

 

A deep, resonant voice boomed out, startling both horse and rider.

"Do you, really?" it asked, and then added, "Can you?"

 

Diantha's first thought was that the kidnapper had managed to follow them and that their flight had been in vain.

 

 

New Chapter Begins:

 

Diantha let out an involuntary gasp as she turned her weary head in the direction of the voice. It seemed there was no adrenaline left in her body to pump through tired veins and nothing to provide her with a feeling of increased strength.

 

White Lightning lifted her drowsy head and looked at her mistress as though to say she didn't have the energy left to help her, either.

"Who's there?" Diantha asked. She was sure her voice was barely above a whisper, but hoped she would be heard. There was no response. Curiosity finally gave her the needed push to gaze around. She saw no one, enemy or otherwise.

"Look up." The masculine voice spoke again. He sounded kinder this time and more encouraging. 

With mixed emotions, Diantha squinted her eyes in the bright morning light and searched for the source of the voice.  Finally, she saw a tall man standing behind a boulder. He was strangely clad, in an otherworldly way, and had long wavy black hair and deep green eyes.

 

His muscular chest and arms were covered in plain cloth, and he wore a leather vest with an intricately embroidered patch on the left breast. Over his shoulder was slung what looked like a bow, and across the other, a quiver of arrows.

 

From where she sprawled in the leaves, Diantha couldn't tell his exact age. Although, a quick estimate gave her a number somewhere between 20 to 45-years old. Oh well, she was tired.

 

Behind the man, was the mountain they had ended their journey beneath only moments before.

"Who are you?" she asked. She tried to sound tough in spite of her precarious position. After all, she wasn't sure whether this man was friendly. Bravado was new to her, seeming to have been born somewhere during her long painful journey through the woods. A journey that had stripped her of much of the baggage of her former life.

The man's eyes softened and he answered in a voice that hinted of an accent. "I'm Atrius. Don't worry, I won't harm you."

Diantha cast a dubious glance at him. "Stay where you are, then... please." It never hurt to be nice.

 

She tried to sit up, but felt woozy and sore. Her hands rested on soft, leafy loam that eminated an earthy smell. Somehow, the scent was as comforting as the limbs of the towering trees above.

 

"My horse and I have just been through the worst 24-hours you could possibly imagine and we don't need anyone to harass us."

"I'm not here for that purpose, I promise. I just thought you might need help. But, of course, if you'd rather I leave...."

Diantha shook weariness from her brain and tried to focus on her current situation. She had to put the past day, with its terrors and fears, behind her for the moment. "No, don't do that. I've just had a bad experience that's made trust a little difficult for me. Give me a moment to let my mind catch up."

 

 

 

 

 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Not really," Diantha replied. "Not yet, anyway." 

Atrius made eye contact with her. After a moment, he gave her a small smile. "How about if we start with your name."

She placed her hand above her eyes to shield the rising sun so she could see his face clearer. He didn't look particularly mean, but she wasn't the best judge of character.  "I'm Diantha."

 

Atrius gave her an encouraging smile. "That's a beautiful name. It's Greek. It means God flower."

"I didn't know that," Diantha said. "My mother named me after her favorite flower, dianthus. She said it's very hardy and will flower even through snow. She gave me the name right after I was born. She said I had the look of a survivor."

"I think you do, too, and are aptly named. The flower is both strong and beautiful."

 

"Thank you, though I'm not so sure either adjective applies to me. Are you Greek?"

 

"I presume as much. I speak Greek, as did the man who took me in as a youth. I have no memories before I came here. Most of the people in my community are of Greek descent, so I probably am as well."

 

"I see. I think I'm mostly Irish, although I'm pretty sure there's more mixed in. So, what does your name mean?"

 

"Atrius? It means fearless."

"Nice, and are you aptly named as well?"

"Hmmm, I've never thought much about it. I think fear is a healthy emotion. It can keep you alive."

Diantha shrugged. "I've heard faith does."

Atrius nodded his head. "Maybe we're both right. We could use a little of both."

"Well, I think fear makes you weak." Diantha said, "or at least it always has me."

"It can when you let it rule you, but when you listen to its gentle whispers, it can tell you if you're safe."

Diantha cocked a curious eye his way. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Maybe. How did you get here?" Atrius asked, answering a question with a question.

"We were out riding and my horse got spooked and ran off with me on her back."

"And that's all?"

"Pretty much. It's the important part."

"That's fair. Whatever happened to you, and I'm sorry it did, had to have occured a long way from here. You're deep in the heart of a hidden forest that sits on the edge of a sacred valley. No one comes here unless they are either lost or invited."

"It would have to be the former. We were sort of attacked."

Atrius raised a dark eyebrown. "By what, a pack of rabid wolves?"

 

"Not in the literal sense."

 

"Figurative wolves can be quite frightening as well. Your poor filly ran far and fast to take you to safety."

"Yes, she did, and I appreciate her sacrifice. Maybe I should tell you the whole story. But, how do I know I can trust you?"

"Because I have an honest face," he quipped. He was smiling broadly like he was trying to prove he wasn't lying. All he managed to do, as far as Diantha was concerned, was highlight very handsome features. She wasn't too tired to notice that.

"Ok, then I'll tell you," she said, blushing slightly. "My friend Cassie and I were out for a ride when we were attacked by a really large man on an equally large horse. He pulled a gun saying he wanted me to go with him because my father is the governor and my fiance is rich. He said he wanted to ransom me and White Lightning."

"So it wasn't a pack of wolves?"

"No, a kidnapper."

"I would come closer to believing the wolf story."

"Well, I'm not lying, so you will either have to believe me and come help me find my way back home, or figure I'm lying and go on your way."

"Are you always this hard to get along with?"

"Not really," Diantha said. "I'm usually a pushover, but am not exactly at my best just now."

"Ok, let's say you're telling the truth and that I do believe you," Atrius remarked.

"Do you?"

"Sure, you look way too tired to be making it all up."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, tell me something. When the man approached you yesterday, did you hear whisperings of fear?"

"Are we back on that again?"

"Might as well be, I was trying to make a point."

"Sorry, I'm having trouble focusing right now. You know, since you mentioned it, though, I did have a bad feeling right away when he arrived on our trail."

"What did you do about it?"

"Nothing, really. I sort of ignored it. But Cassie didn't. She mentioned she thought something was wrong, and placed herself and the horse she was riding between me and the kidnapper. She would have taken a bullet for me if the horse hadn't reared up and gotten shot instead."

"What happened then?" Atrius asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'm not really sure because White Lightning took the bridle bit in her mouth and ran off into the woods with me on her back."

"Is White Lightning your horse's name?"

"Yes."

"Well, she listened to the whisper. That's why she brought you here."

Diantha tilted her head to the side in thought. Her tangled, auburn locks shifted around her face and neck. "That makes sense."

"What do you hear now?"

"Lightning's labored breathing."

"What else?"

Diantha pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes in concentration. "The pounding of my heart."

"Is it afraid?"

"Very much so."

"Is it telling you to run?"

"No, it's not," Diantha replied in surprise. "I think it should be though. I'm out in the middle of goodness knows where with a sick horse and a total stranger who is very big and very well armed."

"But am I the enemy, or your protector?" he asked. His expressive eyes spoke more than his words.

Diantha closed her eyes as she concentrated on her inner thoughts. "My heart says you're a friend, but I don't know how it knows that."

"Because I am. Now I need you to trust me. I know it's hard after all that you've been through, but you have to or you'll be killed."

"Wolf packs that bad around here?"

"Yes, of the same variety that attacked you yesterday. We're in enemy territory, and had better get going before we're found alone and unarmed."

"But we are neither."

"Against hundreds we are."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I believed you."

"That's true. Ok, I'll chance it. It's not like I have a line of people waiting to take me to safety."

Atrius chuckled. "Thanks for your confidence."

"Sorry," Diantha apologized. "As I said, I'm not at my best."

"That's ok, just trust your feelings about me and let's leave before someone worse than your man on the horse comes to get you."

"What about White Lightning?"

"She'll be safe. I'll send some of my men back for her later. They can take her to a hospital we have for sick animals."

"But won't the bad guys get her? You know, the wolves?"

"They are called Caracki and they aren't after horses, my dear, but pretty young ladies they will take in a heartbeat."

It didn't take but a moment for the news to filter into Diantha's mind. She nodded. "I'm coming."

 

She struggled painfully to her knees, his remark about pretty young ladies not missing her notice, "but I can't move well. I'm stiff and sore."

 

"I see that. I'm sorry. It's not easy to ride a horse for as long as you did."

"You said the only way people can get here is to be lost or invited."

 

"Yes."

 

"Then how did White Lightning find her way? She didn't get here by accident, and seemed to be following some trail."

"All horses know the way. It's built into them. Their need just has to be great enough to drive them here... or their mission. Now hurry along. I can already hear the Caracki getting closer."

Diantha pushed against the pain in her legs to rise. She reeled at first, but then steadied herself by grabbing a branch. Once she was solid, she made her way to where Atrius still hid behind the boulder. He smiled warmly as she approached.

"Good girl," he encouraged. "I know how much it hurts."

"I don't think you do," she argued gently. "I'm not even sure I do."

"You're funny."

"You think so? You should see me when I'm well."

"Even funnier?"

"I wish, no I'm dull and boring."

"I don't see you that way. I think, perhaps, you're used to being hard on yourself."

"That's what my friend Cassie says."

"Isn't she the one who went riding with you yesterday morning?"

"Yes, and I hope she's ok."

"She's probably in better shape than you are." Atrius reached out to help her as she got close.

 

Diantha's heart leapt at the simple touch, and her skin flushed. She couldn't believe she reacted like a simple school girl with a crush.

"Thank you," she said. She inwardly rolled her eyes at her own lack of sophistication. She had been raised around crowds of strangers and was usually better at handling herself. But, then, this had been an unusual series of events.

Before she got closer, Atrius hesitated. "Do you consider yourself to be an open-minded sort of person?"

"I think so, why?" she asked warily. She knew there had to be a catch in all of this somewhere.

"Because I'm often a bit of a shock for people who don't know me," he answered. Turbulent green eyes betrayed unspoken pain.

"Are you disfigured?" she asked. "I'm in nursing school back home and I assure you, I'm used to seeing deformity."

"That's good, but I'll bet you've never seen this." He stepped from behind the rock.

Diantha let out a gasp as she beheld, truly, the strangest apparition she had ever seen. From the waist up, Atrius was a very well built, handsome man, but from there down, he had the body of a pure black horse. Her mouth dropped open as she stepped backwards in obvious alarm.

 

 

 

 

"Remember your feelings," he urged. "When you couldn't see all of me, you felt I was your friend, remember?"

"It's sort of hard to remember what I thought a few minutes ago." Diantha said. "I think I'm in shock."

"You'll have to get over it. We're out of time."

In one swift movement, he put his large hands around her waist. Turning quickly, he eased her bruised body onto his back. He had a soft blanket slung across him like a saddle and it was soothing to her aches and pains. Without giving her a chance to protest, he galloped into a crevice behind them in the mountain.

 

 

Author Notes

AI images are from IZEA. The Centaur at the end is from NightCafe Creator. Several people have sent me Centaur images, but they wouldn't fit in the middle of the text. I can use them later as the first image. Later, I will add a Centaur as the beginning image, which this format does allow. I just didn't want it yet. I'll use it next post. Diantha is portrayed here as submissive and indecisive. It is intentional. She is a flawed character that is growing throughout the story and dealing with a growing knowledge that she has choices and a voice. All AI Images from IZEA. Diantha: Female protagonist. Born and raised in Tennessee. Her father is the Governor of Tennessee. She is going to college to study pediatrics. Cassie: Diantha's childhood best friend. Tries to talk her out of making a bad choice marrying someone she doesn't love. Wilson: Diantha's fiance. Rich, well connected, but doesn't love Diantha. The feeling is mutual. White Lightning: Diantha's new filly... a gift from Wilson's family Nutmeg: Diantha's childhood horse and Cassie's ride for the morning walk. Large Stranger: Man hunting Diantha for some reason, currently unknown. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Phoebus: Young son of Poseidon. He works for Apollo as a horse tender and has started a line of horses of his own. Atrius: Pseudonym of Phoebus. He has amnesia from his youth and was renamed by a caretaker. Now lives in Concorde Valley. Eudora: Youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera - She's spoiled and petulant and purely made up on my part. She's also the indirect reason Phoebus is turned into a Centaur. Eternal: Phoebus' favorite black stallion. A gift from Poseidon to get his youngest son started in horse breeding. He's an immortal and hopefully the father of Phoebus' planned bloodline.

Chapter 7
A Sacred Valley

By davisr (Rhonda)

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.

 

End of last chapter:

 

"Remember your feelings," he urged. "When you couldn't see all of me, you felt I was your friend, remember?"

"It's sort of hard to remember what I thought a few minutes ago." Diantha said. "I think I'm in shock."

"You'll have to get over it. We're out of time."

In one swift movement, he put his large hands around her waist. Turning quickly, he eased her bruised body onto his back. He had a soft blanket slung across him like a saddle and it was soothing to her aches and pains. Without giving her a chance to protest, he galloped into a crevice behind them in the mountain.

 

The New Chapter Begins:

 

The strange beast carried her deep into the rocky catacombs, their way lit only by a small torch he picked up as they entered. She wondered what had made him decide to leave his realm and be waiting in just the right spot when she needed rescuing. Had he, in fact, come for her? Or was it just luck he found her when he did?

 

Shaking her head, she decided she wasn't going to try and make sense of anything until she rested. Exhausted, she leaned against the man's back and fell asleep in spite of her danger and distress. There is only so much a person can take before they collapse, and she had reached that point.

Diantha was vaguely aware of the long ride, her second in as many days. She remembered bumps, turns, and the never ending clapping of hooves against stone.

 

She remembered, as well, the scent of leather and sweat. But the sweat of what? Horse? Human? No, something else, something unfamiliar, but not unpleasant.

 

Mostly, she remembered the comfort of leaning against someone warm, someone she could trust.

 

Finally, she was aware of being placed on a bed of straw. She was relieved as it eased her aching body. Sweet tea was pressed against her lips and she drank deeply. She looked into tender green eyes that mesmerized and intrigued her. Finally, overcome by weariness and whatever was in her tea, she fell into a deep sleep.

 

She didn't know how long she slumbered before she awoke to the aroma of food cooking.

"Where am I?" Diantha asked. She spoke loud enough to be heard as she sat slowly and painfully in the straw bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later, she thought how silly she must have sounded to ask so obvious a question, but it really was the first thing that came to mind.

 

She listened carefully for a response, but heard only the sound of a horse's hooves clicking on wood and something sizzling in a pan. She could also hear the tip-tap of rain on a metal roof.

 

Now, she really did wonder where she was. 

"Is there anyone here?" she asked again. "Please, someone answer me."

"Relax, Diantha." The resonant voice of Atrius spoke from what must have been a kitchen area to her right. "I'm here. Just making you something to eat."

"But, where are we?"

"At my house in the woods." His voice was calm and reassuring.

"I know your name, but who exactly, are you?"

"A friend." He leaned around the corner of the kitchen. His green eyes danced in the light of a fire burning somewhere to his right. His beautiful black hair fell in waves around powerful shoulders.

Diantha squinted her eyes as she tried to focus. "My mind is so foggy, I don't know how much of what I remember is real, and how much is images I dreamt during the night."

"That's a typical response to the level of trauma you went through. I also gave you some chamomile tea to help you relax. Rest and sleep are absolutely necessary to the healing process."

 

Atrius placed a plate of food on the bar and motioned with a wave of his hand for her to sit on a chair and eat.

"How long was I asleep?"

Atrius tilted his head to the side in thought. "We got here from the tunnels around midday yesterday. You slept through the rest of the day and night."

"Is it morning, then?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Diantha smiled grimly and tried to stand. Her legs were wobbly and threatened to give out when she tried to put weight on them, so she lowered herself back to the straw covered bed.

 

Atrius watched patiently, his mouth silent, but his green eyes following her with alert compassion. He seemed to feel it was important for her to try to get up on her own.

 

 

 

 

After a few more attempts, she managed to stand. She leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the counter and worked her way to the large wooden chair situated in front of her food.

 

"This looks amazing." She began to eat the bacon and eggs he'd prepared with relish.

 

Atrius smiled and turned to clean his cooking area. When he did, Diantha noticed that his handsome torso, dressed as any other man, was connected to a large black horse. She had forgotten that detail about her new friend.

"Are you really a Centaur?" Diantha asked. "I thought that was one of the weird dreams I was having."

"I'm afraid I am," Atrius said. "but don't worry, I came to terms with my condition many years ago. You're the patient, now. How are you feeling?"

"Not well. I'm still sore and feverish."

"That's to be expected," Atrius said. He returned and leaned over the counter to feel her head. "It's part of the trauma response I told you about. You rode a long way under extreme conditions. Your body is fighting back. I'll give you some more herbal tea with honey. That will help you sleep again."

"Are you a doctor or something?"

"Yes, among other things."

"Like what?"

Atrius chuckled as he put dirty dishes in the sink. "Like a gardener, a father, a warrior and, well, a king."

 

"A king? Whew...that's a lot of hats to wear."

 

"This is a small community, and I've been alive for a very long time. We can talk later." Atrius poured fragrant tea into a mug. "You rest again, and then we'll take a walk in my garden. Maybe by then the rain will have stopped. It'll be a great setting for questions and answers."

"That's fair, but can you tell me how my horse, White Lightning, is doing?"

Atrius nodded his large head as though approving of her concern. "Much the same as you, godflower. She's sick and sore, but will be fine in a few days. She's with a group of other horses in my care."

"At the animal hospital you told me about?"

"Yes."

"She isn't permanently damaged is she?"

"No. She gave a lot to get you here, and is lucky to be alive, but she's young and strong and will be better before you know it."

 

Diantha was quiet while she contemplated his words.

"Why did she do it, Atrius? She barely knows me."

"Love isn't measured by time, Diantha, and animals love with an abandon humans find hard to understand. Still, I understand your question. There was something more to this rescue than getting you away from your attacker. I don't think she liked her life's path any more than you liked yours."

 

"You mean she didn't want to be a racehorse?"

 

"I think she wanted something more out of life.

Diantha looked at Atrius and shook her head. What he said sounded absurd. "You act like she actually talked to you."

Atrius stood perfectly still and met her eyes. "Do you find that difficult to believe?"

Diantha returned the gaze. "Well, it does seem unlikely."

"As unlikely as being a Centaur?"

Diantha paused, then tilted her head to the side and chuckled. "You got me there. What else did she say?"

"She told me about a large man with a gun and that he shot your horse, Courage."

"Courage? Her name was Nutmeg."

Atrius raised an eyebrow. "You named your horse after a spice?"

"She coat was the color of nutmeg."

"Well, her real name is Courage. Horses have their own names that have to do with their strongest character trait."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Then what's White Lightning's real name?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know."

Atrius leaned against the counter and touched her face. "Close your eyes, and think about her true essense... the thing that makes her unique. What comes to mind?"

Diantha took a deep breath and concentrated before anwering. "Well, she's fast and pretty."

"Those are physical, not character, traits. Go deeper."

"Determination, then? She was determined to get us here."

"You're pretty close."

Diantha concentrated again. She thought about her horse's persistent nature, and of her enduring run for freedom. She opened her eyes and nodded. "I know. Her name is Champion. She was bred for speed and she used it to rescue me."

"You got it. Very good. The race she ran bringing you here may have been the most important one of her life.To bear the name Champion means you're a brave defender of those you love or who are less fortunate than you. In the horse world, it is a great and rare honor to have that name."

 

"Then I'm proud of her. Yesterday you said Champion, brought me here on purpose."

"She did."

"Why? She could've just gotten me out of harm's way and then taken me home."

"Because home wasn't safe," Atrius answered carefully. "Champion said the man who came after you was no stranger to her. She said he worked for her former master, the man who gave her to you."

"Who? Wilson, my finace? Are you serious?"

"Quite, and she also said you told your friend Cassie you didn't want to marry him. It seems he didn't want to marry you even more. He didn't plan to kidnap you."

 

"Then what, kill me?"

 

Atrius glanced away as he dried a clean pot. His lack of response was her answer.

"Champion told you all that?"

"Yes Ma'am. You can ask her yourself when you're both better."

"I don't speak horse."

"Not a bad time to start learning. She could have saved you a lot of trouble if you had listened to her.

"I can't argue with that," Diantha said. "So, when will we being going home?"

"When you're well enough, and when you ask to go. Champion seems to think you're better off here."

 

"She's a pretty talkative horse."

 

"Just like her mistress. My dear, take all the time you need to make decisions that affect your life. For now, rest, heal, meet the people of this valley, and then decide. Consider this a vacation until then. Champion's sacrifice earned that much."

 

 

 

 

Diantha pursed her lips thoughtfully. "It's a deal."

 

Atrius held out a hand to shake, and Diantha grasped it in return. Was that a spark she felt at his touch, or just the shudder of her tired body? The sparkle in the Centaur's green eyes told her it might have been the former, but it evaporated almost the moment it appeared, so she couldn't be sure.

Diantha yawned and moved back onto the straw mattress. As she closed her eyes, she could still hear the gentle tapping of the rain on the roof, the movement of Atrius cleaning, and the distant sound of birds singing in the trees. Soon, she was fast asleep and even the aches and pains in her body didn't bother her dreams.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author Notes

AI images are from IZEA. The Centaur at the end is from NightCafe Creator. Several people have sent me Centaur images, but they wouldn't fit in the middle of the text. I can use them later as the first image. Later, I will add a Centaur as the beginning image, which this format does allow. I just didn't want it yet. I'll use it next post. Diantha is portrayed here as submissive and indecisive. It is intentional. She is a flawed character that is growing throughout the story and dealing with a growing knowledge that she has choices and a voice. All AI Images from IZEA. Diantha: Female protagonist. Born and raised in Tennessee. Her father is the Governor of Tennessee. She is going to college to study pediatrics. Cassie: Diantha's childhood best friend. Tries to talk her out of making a bad choice marrying someone she doesn't love. Wilson: Diantha's fiance. Rich, well connected, but doesn't love Diantha. The feeling is mutual. White Lightning: Diantha's new filly... a gift from Wilson's family Nutmeg: Diantha's childhood horse and Cassie's ride for the morning walk. Large Stranger: Man hunting Diantha for some reason, currently unknown. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Phoebus: Young son of Poseidon. He works for Apollo as a horse tender and has started a line of horses of his own. Atrius: Pseudonym of Phoebus. He has amnesia from his youth and was renamed by a caretaker. Now lives in Concorde Valley. Eudora: Youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera - She's spoiled and petulant and purely made up on my part. She's also the indirect reason Phoebus is turned into a Centaur. Eternal: Phoebus' favorite black stallion. A gift from Poseidon to get his youngest son started in horse breeding. He's an immortal and hopefully the father of Phoebus' planned bloodline.

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