Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(47)

But by the time Aetnia got back with the filleted fish, Kat was completely bored just sitting there by herself. Plus she really hated the subservient way Aetnia scurried around like she was really worried about offending The Princess. It made her wonder how awful Polyxena had been.

“Here, I’ll help.”

“Oh, no, Princess! This isn’t work for—”

“Aetnia, really. I’ll help. I want to.” Kat reached for a long wooden spatula-looking thing that was sitting on the cooking table beside the campfire. There was what seemed to be a perpetually simmering pot of stew hanging from poles over the fire, so Aetnia had placed the huge hunks of fish in two heavy iron skillets directly on the rocks that were interspersed with the glowing coals. “I’ll poke these two. You take those two.” Kat situated herself near the skillet she’d commandeered, enjoying the delicious smell of garlic, olive oil and fresh fish frying.

“As you wish, Princess.”

“So whose war-prize bride are you?” Kat asked to fill up the extremely dead air.

“I belong to Diomedes, Princess,” Aetnia said.

“I haven’t met him yet. Do you like him?”

“Like him?” She looked confused. “He does not beat me,” Aetnia said, as if that answered Kat’s question. “He is the warrior who wounded Achilles yesterday.”

Kat thought back, vaguely remembering a young, muscular guy who definitely had a big sword. She wished Jacky was there so they could make nasty puns about it, but she settled for smiling at shy Aetnia and saying, “He seemed to know what he was doing with a sword.”

“I—I hope he didn’t anger Lord Achilles,” she said in a little burst of breath.

“No, not at all.”

Aetnia looked so relieved Kat thought for a second that she was going to faint.

“Thank you, Princess!” she gushed.

“Aetnia, why were you so worried about Achilles being mad at Diomedes?”

The young woman’s eyes grew huge and she lowered her voice fearfully. “The berserker, Princess. It overtakes him and he becomes a monster. He can kill anyone when the creature possesses him.”

“Have you ever seen Achilles in his berserker rage?”

“Only watching from the walls of our beautiful city.” She shivered. “That was terrible enough.”

“But you’ve been in his camp for, what, more than two years?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“And you’ve never seen the berserker take control of him here?”

“No, my lady.”

“You know, maybe you should consider that Achilles isn’t as out of control and scary as everyone says he is.”

Aetnia gaped at Kat. “My lady, you, too, have watched him from the walls of Troy. You’ve seen him on the battlefield cutting a swath through our men. I do not understand how you can say even one kind word about him.”

“Aetnia, Diomedes is in need of you. Return to his tent.” Achilles’ deep voice coming from behind them made both of them jump, but Kat thought Aetnia looked like she was going to pass out.

"Y-yes, my lord!” She bobbed several jerky curtseys and literally ran off.

Kat frowned up at the glowering Achilles and was getting ready to tell him to quit being such a bully, that they were already scared enough of him, when Jacky made her grand entrance, followed closely by an unusually pale Patroklos.

“Oh, sweet weeping baby Jesus, is that fried food that I smell?” She grabbed a pottery bowl from the table and sat on the log closest to Kat. “I am starving.” She looked at Kat appraisingly. “Did I miss something? Did hell actually freeze over and you cooked?”

“Don’t start,” Kat told her, spooning up some of the hot, flaky fish for her friend.

“I do not understand how you can eat,” Patroklos said. “Not after the wounds you tended today.”

“Believe me, she can eat,” Kat said, gesturing at Jacky with the spatula. “She could eat a huge dinner while she lanced a boil while simultaneously playing with a ball of tapeworms.”

Jacky rolled her eyes at Kat. “Don’t pay any attention to her. She exaggerates. I wouldn’t play with the tapeworms—I don’t like parasites. Plus like I’ve been telling you all afternoon. You’ve been in battle. I have no clue why the blood and guts after the fact should bother you so much.”

“Battle is one thing. Afterward is another,” Patroklos said. He gave Jacky an adoring look. “My beauty is not like other women.”

“True for so many reasons.” Jacky smiled flirtatiously at him. “One of them being I believe in cleanliness.” Her gaze went from flirty to incredulous when she turned it on Kat. “You would not believe how nasty the infirmary was with—”

“Wine!” Achilles cut off Jacky’s gross recounting, as he called over his shoulder to the women who were mending clothes in front of a nearby tent. Several of them scrambled to do Achilles’ bidding, disappearing for only a moment and then reappearing with goblets for everyone, as well as four clay pitchers of wine.

Kat thought it was interesting how the women skirted around Achilles, giving him a wide berth. One girl, who must have drawn the short stick, was filling up his goblet and her hands were shaking so badly Kat was sure she was going to make a mess of it. “Keep an eye on the fish,” she told Jacky, and hurried over to Achilles. “I’ve got this. Go on back to your sewing.” Kat took the pitcher from her and gave her a friendly smile. The girl bowed and then bolted. With a hand that was decidedly steadier, Kat filled Achilles’ goblet.