Song of Sacrifice
Janell Rhiannon
(Homeric Chronicles, #1)
Publication date: December 26th 2018
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Historical
The heart of the Trojan War belongs to the women.
Mothers and daughters; wives and war prizes, whisper to us across time…
…remember our songs alongside the mighty men of myth.
As the Age of Heroes wanes, the gods gamble more fiercely with mortals’ lives than they ever have before. Women must rely on their inner strength and cunning to survive the wars men wage for gold and glory.
Clytemnestra of Mycenae struggles for control of her life after Agamemnon ruthlessly rips it apart. Leda of Sparta survives a brutal assault by Zeus, shouldering a terrible secret in silence. Penelope raises Ithaka’s sole heir alone, praying for Odysseus’ swift return. Thetis, the sea nymph, despairs of her son’s destiny and resorts to forbidden magic to save him. Hecuba of Troy mourns the loss of her second son to a dark prophesy. And Shavash of Pedasus prepares her daughter to marry the greatest warrior who ever lived.
In a world where love leads to war and duty leads to destruction, the iron hearts of heroines will conquer all.
Sing, Muse, sing their song of sacrifice…
Replaces Song of Princes as the first book in the Homeric Chronicles.
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to review Song of Sacrifice? Grab a copy on BookFunnel: https://bookhip.com/DAQNQJ
Excerpt:
From
Chapter 16
Thetis
and Achilles
I DON’T WANT to
think of your death at all. Ever. My pleas to Zeus have all gone unanswered,
little one. He hides from me. Thetis cradled a sleeping
Achilles against her bare breast. Looking down into his face framed by golden
hair, she traced the strong jawline he’d inherited from Peleus with her finger.
“Surely, you will be the most beautiful mortal man who’s ever lived.” For the
past year her love for Achilles consumed her waking moments, for a terrible
darkness chased the sea nymph’s joy for her young son. A second prophesy
revealed by Themis threatened her son’s very life. I don’t want to lose him
to war. She brushed a golden curl from his cheek.
Achilles’ blue eyes, as bright as lapis lazuli, blinked
and he looked up into his mother’s face. The child smiled widely at her. Thetis
returned the loving gaze and bent her head to kiss his forehead. His small hand
grabbed her naked breast, pulling her nipple into his mouth. “You are forever
hungry, Achilles.” She hugged the weight of him closer to her chest. Soon, he
fell back to quiet slumber, nursing softly, even as his arms and legs hung
slack across her lap.
The words of Themis haunted her. “Your son’s renown
shall surpass his father’s, but his future is not sealed in that honor. A great
war is coming and in it he must choose from a double fate. If he refuses to go
to battle, he shall rule after his father and die forgotten without glory. If
he chooses battle, he will become the greatest warrior the world has ever
known. His name will be sung on the lips of generations to come, long after the
gods themselves have been forgotten.”
“I have no choice but to perform the ritual, little one,”
she whispered softly, crystal tears splashing against the tiled floor.
“My lady?”
Thetis turned, lifting a finger to her lips. “The prince
sleeps. What is it, Chara?”
“The king awaits you, my queen.”
“Tell him I’ll be there shortly. The baby …” Chara
nodded, backing out of the chamber. Thetis cradled Achilles, careful not to
wake him as she stood. After laying him in his cradle, she tucked a linen
blanket around him. She bent to kiss his cheek and sighed. Yes, she
thought, tonight I will begin the ritual.
The deep hours of night pulled Thetis from her bed, that
and the ache of breasts engorged with milk. Peleus lay snoring in sated
slumber. Thetis exhausted him with hours of vigorous sex and a small concoction
in his drink. Slipping quietly from the bed coverings, her feet found the floor
and she walked silently across the cool stone floor to Achilles’ bed. He’d
kicked his linens off, so she gently wrapped the soft blanket around him as she
scooped him up in her arms. The baby nuzzled his face into her warmth without
waking, as she opened the chamber door just enough so a sliver of light from
the hall lit her face. Satisfied that the household slept, Thetis slipped
through the door, balancing Achilles’ weight in her free arm.
Making her way into the great hall, she moved in the
shadows of the red marble columns until she reached the entrance to the lower
levels of Peleus’ hall. Thetis removed a torch from a heavy iron sconce and
descended into the darkness. The stairs wound deep beneath the palace, leading
to the king’s private temple dedicated to all of the gods. Servants were
forbidden in this sacred room so she had little concern for interruption.
Achilles stirred in her arms as she quickly made her way deep into the tunnel.
When she reached the chamber, she placed the torch in an iron bracket set into
the wall. Shrugging out of her chiton, she bunched it into a pile with her
feet. She placed Achilles on the mound of clothing while she prepared the
silver basin for the sacred fire.
Thetis removed a wooden box from an alcove and opened it.
The pungent aroma of holy herbs wafted into the still air. Frankincense.
Ambrosia. Herb of Moria. Medusa grass. And the rare prize of a few strands of
Zeus’ silver hair. Thetis pulled out the frankincense and set it in the bottom
of the wide rimmed basin with kindling. Taking a thin reed from the box, she
used it to catch a small flame from the torch. She knelt before the basin and
lit the dry matter until it smoked and caught fire. Then she added the other elements
except for the hair of Zeus and the ambrosia.
Achilles whimpered in his makeshift bed. Thetis rose to
gather him to herself. He clung to her in the dimly lit unfamiliar room and
found her engorged naked breast. He latched on hungrily, gulping his mother’s
milk. The nymph sat before the flames that licked the rim of the silver bowl,
her precious son comfortably cradled in her lap. Reaching into the box, she
pulled out the vial of ambrosia. As Achilles suckled, she undid his blanket,
exposing his bare skin, and poured the ambrosia elixir on her son, rubbing
every inch of his skin with it. When she rubbed the soles of his feet, Achilles
kicked at her hand and bit down on her nipple with his front teeth.
Putting a finger in his mouth, she broke the latch he had
on her breast and switched him to the opposite side. “Sorry, little one. I must
cover you completely, if I’m to save you at all.” She continued to massage the
god’s golden nectar into his skin. When she was satisfied with the ambrosia,
she placed the hair of Zeus into the fire. Blue then red flames licked around
the silver basin until thin fingers of silver rose from the heat. Thetis pulled
Achilles from her breast. He squalled. “Hush, my golden boy. This will be
quickly over.”
She held him over the dancing flames that reached for his
feet and curled around his ankles. Achilles wailed loudly, squeezing his eyes
shut against the searing pain. Tears filled Thetis’ eyes as she waited for
Achilles’ mortality to burn away.
“What the fuck are you doing to my son?” roared Peleus
behind her. A handful of royal guards followed him. “I knew you were hiding
something from me. But, I never thought you’d stoop so low as this.”
Startled, Thetis jerked a dangling Achilles from the
fire. Words failed her.
“Answer me, you witch! What treachery do you perform?
Roasting my son to death like an animal?”
Thetis stood, hugging Achilles to her naked breast. “You
don’t understand, Peleus. I am—”
Peleus took three long strides toward his wife. “I don’t
give a blasted shit why you wish to burn my son.” He ripped the child from her
embrace.
Thetis stumbled backwards. “I love Achilles. You know
that’s the truth. I do him no harm! Give me my son!”
Reeling from what he’d witnessed with his own eyes, he
shook his head. “He’s my son. I curse the gods for giving me yet another
wicked woman. And you, Thetis, you’ve broken my trust for good. Get out! Get
out of my palace, nymph!”
Thetis watched in horror as the enchanting flames cooled
to embers in the bowl. Her heart sank knowing the ritual hadn’t been completed.
She’d never have another chance to gather strands of Zeus’ hair. The duality of
Achilles’ fate, foretold by Themis, was now sealed. “You have no idea what
you’ve done, Peleus. You’ve set our son on the path of doom.”
“He’s safe from harm as far as I can tell. His destiny to
surpass me is no small task. And I shall see his fate to the bitter end without
your meddling craft.”
Thetis noted the angry twitch of her husband’s jaw. How
could she explain that the physical pain the child endured now, would be but a
flash compared to immortality?
“Get out of my sight, nymph. Go back to your pond,” the
king seethed.
Thetis picked up her garment from the floor and slipped
it over her head. “Let me at least kiss my son.”
Peleus stepped back from her reach. “You’ll never lay a
hand on Achilles ever again.”
Disgraced,
Thetis fled with her grief back up to the main hall and out of the palace gate.
Her feet carried her to the inlet pond where she threw herself on the grass and
wept bitterly for her son. She wept for his dark future. She wept because she
knew her husband would keep her precious joy from her. She wept because her
love for Peleus was now broken. She despaired because she knew this time even
Zeus wouldn’t help her.
Author Bio:
In graduate school, Janell focused on the ancient history of Greece and Rome. Hooked by the “sword and sandal” world, she studied everything she could about mythology and Alexander the Great.
The Homeric Chronicles series is dedicated to merging dozens of Greek myths, including Homer’s epics, with plays, history, and archaeology. Her intent is to raise the heroines’ voices equally alongside the heroes, opening up a traditionally male focused genre to a female audience.
She lives in CA and enjoys spending time with her children and grandchildren. She has a pack of two big dogs and two cats.
Check out Janell's podcast it uses her books as a reference - Greek Mythology Retold:
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1 comments:
Thanks for sharing !:)
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