Drown the Sea: Dying Gods Book One by Elisha Kemp

Author:Elisha Kemp [Kemp, Elisha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Kitanetos

By the time the battle is finished, the sea foam lapping at the shore is pink with the blood of our enemies. It stains my weapons and my arms. It clings to my long hair, mixing with the dried salt water and sweat.

I glare out at the fallen, battle-lust fading from my body, sadness taking its place.

I’ve fought at sea and on distant shores. Fought to claim a place for my people, to defend trading routes or outposts or goods.

This is the first time I’ve fought on Thera’s shores.

These men and women - they were my people.

“What do we do with the survivors?” Nash asks, his grizzled features spattered with drops of red.

I wonder how many such battles the old navigator has fought in his time.

I blink in confusion, because at first, I think he’s talking about our people. Obviously, they should go to Diktynna’s temple. Indeed, the priestess of that temple is already leading her acolytes out the doors, ushering them to help the injured.

“There’s a few young ones who could be good rowers. With enough training,” Nash continues, and I realize he’s talking about the enemy. The few Acheans who managed to escape arrow and blade.

"Finish them," I say coldly.

They sailed here, attacked our home, bloodied our shores. If they wanted mercy they should have stayed home. “Keep the youths if you think they’re in condition to live without much healing,” I add with a shrug.

Because a ship can always use good men.

I look towards my city, to the beautiful stone walls of the buildings, terraced and stretching towards the foothills. They gleam red and gold in the morning light, untouched by the carnage strewn like sea debris across the rocky shore.

A familiar figure waves at me from the palace rooftop, and I give a quivering sigh of relief. Brita is there.

“You have charge of my men,” I tell Nash, wiping sweat from my forehead. “I am going to check on my mother and sisters.”

He responds with a low bow, then bends to wipe his blade on the tunic of some fallen Achean. I curl my lip in disgust, then stride tiredly towards the shelter of the palace.

Ariana meets me in the foyer, her short fighting tunic looking surprisingly clean for someone who has just defended our city. Her dark eyes take in my appearance, silently criticizing the bloodied state of my clothes and hair.

“Welcome,” she says with the faintest dip of her chin.

“What?” I say, shooting her an antagonistic grin, opening my arms up to her. “You won’t even embrace your own brother?”

Her nose wrinkles in distaste. “Not like that I won’t.” She nods towards the doorway at her back, the red-painted frame and griffin frescoes glowing with the morning sunlight. As regal and untouched by the battle as my oldest sister. “Brita is up on the roof. You’ll find the enemy is already defeated.”

I stare at her, silent rage mingling with disbelief. Did she not see my men risking our ships to burn the Achean’s

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