Lucinda Betts

The King of the Centaurs stood in my palace courtyard, thick equine legs stubbornly spread, muscular arms crossing the planes of his chest.

Despite the arrow I had aimed at his throat, Chiron did not look afraid.

“Take one more step toward me, Lord Centaur,” I said, “and I’ll loose this arrow.” And I would, too, regardless of the wicked glint in his wide gray eye.

“Akantha,” he said, his voice melting over each syllable. “Do not allow Lycurgus to be your Champion.”

“The Mother Rite is slated, centaur,” I said, trying not to let his flicking tail distract me. Chiron looked dangerous. If I took my eyes from him for a moment, he could lunge. “And Lycurgus will triumph.”

“Akantha,” he said again, stepping toward me with a placating gesture. “He lies. He’ll forgo the Mother Goddess in favor of Earth Shaker. You’ll lose your rule. The island will become a patriarchy.”

Coolly, I tensed my sinew bowstring, and he stopped. Which showed intelligence. I’d hit any target in my sight. “I’ve heard other tales, too,” I said with heavy sarcasm. “The Tears of Eternity have been found, and your greatest wish is about to be granted.”

“I tell you no child’s fable,” he said, his animal hooves clicking on the flagstone. “I can prove I’m right—allow centaurs in the Mother Rite tourney, and I’ll best Lycurgus at any weapon of your choosing.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or shoot the beast for his effrontery. Aside from the fact that centaurfolk and humans rarely mixed, how could a centaur be a Queen’s Champion? He had the phallus of a horse!

“I’d be mad to let a centaur into the Mother Rite,” I said calmly. “Your folk are more animal than people. They’re drunkards and debauchers.”

The muscle of his broad jaw tightened, and his wide eyes narrowed at my words.

And I had to admit—he looked like a man, not a beast. At least in that moment.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “Have you ever befriended a centaur?”

“I don’t have to befriend a leopard to know I don’t want it on Crete,” I said. “Or in my bed.”

“There are no leopards on Crete,” he said, walking around a bench sitting in the shade of an acacia tree. “There are, however, centaurs aplenty.”

I pulled my bowstring back again. “There’ll be one less if you don’t leave.”

“You’ll not shoot me.”

I let an arrow fly.

On target, the sharp blade on my arrowhead grazed his brawny arm. Blood beaded along the thick muscle of his bicep, but he didn’t flinch.

“The next one strikes your heart,” I said. “I’ll not be the first Knossos Princess since the beginning of time to allow a centaur into the Mother Rite.” I pulled another arrow from my quiver. “Especially since you’ve no evidence against Lycurgus—King Lycurgus.”

Chiron stood as still as a rock. He looked about as solid as one, too. “Palace Phaistos fell, Princess.”

Chiron maddened me. Did he think me ignorant of the facts? “From an earthquake,” I said.

“Which is Earth Shaker’s tool,” he said, as if I weren’t too intelligent.

“A coincidence only.”

A wicked smile lit his features. Which might have been…attractive, if it’d been on a human. “Let me take part in the tourney,” he challenged. “If I lose, you’ll know you’re correct.”

“Not unless Earth Shaker himself walks into the courtyard.”

His hooves clattered over the flagstone, and powerful haunches launched him through the air as he leapt toward me then. Thick arms snaked around me, disarming me, and my bow rattled to the ground.

“May Earth Shaker take you,” I cursed, struggling in his arms. I tried to slam an elbow in his stomach, but it was no use. As easily as he might lift a newborn lamb, he swung me around until we faced each other.

Then he pulled me toward him.

“The Lapith King cannot become your Champion,” he said, his face inches from mine. My nipples, crushed against his brawny chest, hardened. “Lycurgus is evil incarnate.”

I looked into his face, unhindered by the sight of his equine back, his hooves and tail. With his high cheekbones and aquiline nose, his face was breathtaking. Thick hair the color of polished bronze hung in his eyes. His gaze was piercing, almost otherworldly, and his eyes reminded me of the summer sky just before a storm. If he had feet rather than hooves, I would have thought him from one of the noble lines.

But no one could do this to me—not and get away with it.

“You,” I said. “Are evil incarnate.” Then with all my strength, I jerked up my knee, slamming right into his balls. Or that’s what I would have done if he’d had human anatomy.

Chiron laughed, a surprisingly warm sound, and said, “See? For a moment you thought me human.”

I growled something incoherent as his breath warmed my cheek.

“You progress,” he said. And with that feral grin, he released me and stepped back. I stood a moment, staring at him. My knees felt as if the Mother Goddess had replaced bone with octopus tentacles. I—

A roaring filled the air, and the earth began to shake, making dust rise around us. The courtyard walls wobbled, and plaster chips from the fresco rained to the ground.

I stepped away from the walls into the open, but Chiron jerked an arrow from the quiver slung across his back. Nocking the arrow into his massive bow, he eyed the entryway.

Did he think to slay an earthquake? But Chiron didn’t strike me as stupid, not at all. I retrieved and armed my bow, too.

“Hello, Princess.”

“Lycurgus,” I said with a smile.

The Lapith King sauntered into my courtyard exuding the sexual energy of a bull. His black hair hung in ringlets to his shoulders, and his lidded gaze examined Chiron then me. “Is that any way to greet your future husband?”