Chapter 4

Helena sat on the sand oblivious to the sweat that dropped from her forehead to her white tunic. She watched while the men worked and as she watched she questioned her decision to wait for the men to finish with what they were doing. What had possessed her to spend more time with them? Was it simply the novelty of meeting people who were so different from the Camelornians or was it the handsome stranger who made her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling? More than once he cast glances her way as though checking to see if she was still there and every time he did that she went weak in the knees. She was grateful to be sitting as she was, it wouldn’t do to let him know that he made her feel dizzy and feminine and foolish. What was it about him anyway, she thought in annoyance.

Demeus directed the men on their work. Since the previous night they had sailed into the ocean to fish and to gather salt, the white crystals, from the shore to take back to the village. He could not stop himself from glancing back at the vision of fiery beauty that sat a few feet from where they worked watching them. He could not for the life of him explain why he had interfered when Banjo gripped her arm. Usually, he minded his business and went about his work without care for anything but this woman caught his interest right from the time she walked up to them.

It was not unusual to see someone like her in Eyrotian. Merchants came and went everyday and when they did it was simply to do business and pleasure, nothing more. It was not unknown for merchants to bring their sons along with them on journeys to teach them the ways of business but it was rare that a merchant would bring his daughter. And what a daughter this was! Everything about her was fiery; from her flame red hair to her fire spitting eyes. He smiled slightly as he remembered the venomous look she had given him when he implied that being a woman she would not be able to protect herself. But as he studied her more closely he realized that she was more than capable of defending herself. Her arms were lean but muscled in a way that showed she was more than capable of handling her own and the fire in her eyes was just enough to turn a man to ashes. How could a merchant allow his daughter to wander so far away from the village? And what sort of merchant was he that his daughter was built like she worked in the fields all day?

 There was a something about her, something that raised the hair on his arms. If he could reach his god powers he would test them to see if his suspicion was correct. She had a faint air of powers around her but he could not ask her about it, not in the presence of these men who believed he was human like them.

Demeus was the god of gods in Eyrotia. Though he was worshipped by all of Eyrotia and there were statues of him in almost every temple and idols in his image in many households barely anyone knew what he looked like except other gods. He loved it that way because it gave him the avenue to escape his god duties and live among his creatures. He could be anything. He could be a wealthy merchant from a faraway kingdom, he could be a beggar, a fisherman like he was today, a blacksmith…anything! And no one would know that the person with whom they spoke was their very own Demeus, king of the gods of Eyrotia.

All morning he and the men with him had taken their nets to the sea to fish. It has been a normal day, uneventful until this redheaded woman with a face as beautiful as sin came to disturb the peace now he found himself wondering about her over and over. He noticed that some of the men were more respectful to her now and she spoke to them in their language which was too fluent coming from a foreigner. He observed as she asked the men questions about their work. Fascinated by her curiosity he chipped in.

“Is this your first time with fishermen?”

Surprised by his question when all he has been doing was cast glances her way without a word Helena nodded.

“Yes,” she tried her best to avoid his eyes, those beautiful eyes that drew her in. She was a wife for heavens sake! A mother! Why should the eyes of a man make her feel this way?

“What sort of work does your father do?” he asked.

“He is a merchant.”

Demeus raised a brow and waited for her to go on. When all she did was fold her legs up to rock on her bottom he raised his palms upward and asked. “Well? I already know he is a merchant but what sort of merchandise does he trade in?”

She racked her brain for something to say. It had not occurred to her that he would want to know more about her. Curse this man! What was his business anyway? Did he suspect that she had lied?

When she looked up at him she found him waiting for her response. With a sigh that was very much fake she responded.

“Well, he sells cotton and silk.”

The men glanced at one another and exchanged look she could not quite understand.

“Eyrotians do not buy cotton and silk. We grow our cotton and harvest our own silk.”

How was she to know that? She scrambled her brain for a reasonable explanation.

“Well, he is currently not in Eyrotia, he is in a neighboring village not far from here but he gave me his permission to explore. I have always wanted to see to Eyrotia.”

The men nodded at her explanation a d continued with their work giving her a moment to catch her breath. What if there was no neighboring village? She would have been found out as an imposter.

“I suppose your father should be in Jamark village then, they are the ones who can’t grow their own cotton. Lazy lots,” one of the men said and the others agreed. The others except the one with the white eyes who looked like he doubted her story. Well that was his business.

"Eyrotia has one of the largest shipment of cotton going to other kingdoms," one of the men informed her.

"It does not make sense that they should not import cotton just because they grow theirs. You can never have too much of anything," Helena argued.

The men laughed. 

"You really are a stranger here, madam, to think that we can ever run out of cotton," Demeus said. 

Helena was just about to point out the foolishness in making such a statement when he called out to the men that their work was over. He motioned for her to stand. 

One by one the men picked up the packets of fish and salt they had been tying, threw them over their shoulders and started to walk away from the shore towards the main land. Demeus reached to help the redheaded beauty up but she rejected his offer, stood up, dusted herself and started to follow the men.