to go into battle with, and it is not the Novorans.”
That elicits a chuckle from the other men. Okay, maybe Novoro isn’t known for its soldiers. He’s got a point. Still, a shit army beats zero army, doesn’t it?
“The Cyclopae,” Markos says. “They would make a worthy army.”
Aron nods. “That they would.”
“And already dedicated to you,” Vitar adds. “I’ve heard they remove one eye in your name when they reach adulthood.”
“More tales,” Kerren begins.
“It’s true,” Solat interrupts, speaking for the first time. “I rode with a Cyclopae barbarian for a time. They remove their left eye to honor Aron’s fight with the great dragon One-Tooth, and to prove that they only need one eye to best any man.”
“Well, that’s fucked up,” I announce.
Aron arches an eyebrow at me, the scarred one. “You do not approve?”
I lean in. “Can I just point something out to you, almighty lord of storms? Because I’m seeing two eyeballs in that face of yours. Your Cyclopae are gonna be mighty disappointed to realize they plucked out their eyes on your behalf and you didn’t do the same.”
He throws back his head and laughs, utterly pleased at my retort. His hand slides higher on my thigh, and he’s smiling as he looks over at the men. “One of you tell her.”
Kerren clears his throat. “Faith, have you not heard the story?”
“She has never asked,” Aron says, utterly amused.
Oh. He’s right, and I feel silly. Maybe I should have asked. All of his statues and his worshipers talk of a one-eyed Aron, but the man I’m with has two eyes. Aron’s smirking with pleasure like I’ve missed something obvious all along. “Am I going to hate this story?”
“Bah. It is a glorious story,” Aron says. “You will love it.”
“Thanks, Arrogance,” I tease, but I like his hand on my thigh. I want to shift my weight so that hand can slide a bit higher up. It’s so hard to try and stay still. “Okay, let’s hear it, then.”
Kerren pauses, then begins. “It happened many, many years ago, back when Old Suuol ruled the mid-lands.” When Aron nods, he continues, gaining confidence. “The great Lord of Storms was at war with Kalos, god of darkness, who had claimed the kingdom of Sollist for himself and enslaved their people. Old Suuol fought a glorious war against Sollist and the armies of darkness, but they were no match for Kalos and his ghouls. Aron led battle after battle, but the people of Suuol begged him to end the war. He went to the god Kalos and demanded that he free Sollist, but the dark god said he would end the war if given an ancient magical sword called Brightblade, which was once carried by the finest of heroes in the land.
“It seemed simple enough, but what Aron did not know was that the sword was hidden deep in the mountains, in the lair of Old One-Tooth, the most ancient of dragons.”
“Oops,” I say, and take Aron’s hand in mine. “And the dragon…temporarily blinded him? What?”
“No, I defeated him,” Aron says proudly, taking over the story. “Slew him with a single blow of my mighty axe. But then Rhagos interfered.”
“Rhagos?” I echo, then mentally go through the list of gods in my head. “God of…the Dead?”
“And Kalos’s brother,” Kerren adds. “He brought the dragon back to life and it attacked Aron once more.”
“Damned hard to kill something that won’t stay dead,” Aron says, all grumpiness. “That was when I lost my eye.”
I stare at his handsome mien, at the scars that crisscross the left side of his face, over the bright green eye. “How…”
“It is a lesser known legend, because Rhagos does not like for it to be told.” Aron grins fiercely. “After I delivered the sword to Kalos, I went to the underworld and took one of Rhagos’s eyes in repayment for the one I lost.”
I stare at Aron in horror. Is this why he’s got two different colored eyes?
“You did not know this?” He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand.
Wordlessly, I shake my head. For some reason, I don’t find the story funny or clever. It makes me ache for him. How hard it’s been for him. No wonder he doesn’t trust the other gods. Not after the loss of an eye…and stealing someone else’s. Yikes. “If other gods have treated you like this, how can you expect the Spidae to help you, Aron?”
He holds my thigh tightly, as if to reassure me. “Not all of