Atalanta

By Robert Webb

Atalanta. The Huntress. The Warrior.
The Original Action Heroine.
This is her story, told as never before.

Ever since birth, signs and portents have followed Atalanta.
They have all proclaimed her to be a woman with an extraordinary destiny.
But when a gigantic boar begins ravaging her homeland it is up to her to determine whether or not she can live up to them.

Along with a team of other hunters Atalanta intends to prove herself by slaying the beast with her own hands.
She is prepared for the men's hostility towards her.
She is prapared to fight alongside a father who abandoned her as a child.
But a genuine monster, more dangerous than any beast?
A goddess who unleashed it to punish a king?
A prince who not only accepts but may even love her?

As she hunts the monster, Atalanta not only faces these challenges, she is haunted but a finally prophecy: In her quest she will gain glory, but at a terrible cost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Webb
• Release date: Mar 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9780692854464

Robert Webb

Robert Webb is an author of the erotica fiction genre, published by Midnight Stories. He writes mainly about depths of intimacy and the magnetism of sensuality as indispensable parts of our lives. From time to time he includes dark subjects in his books, and Rob believes in one rule: do your best and don't mess it up. Endeavoring to write the most impressive and immersive flow of events whenever he writes, the majority of his 21st century stories feature today’s youth as well as the natural flow of modern society relationships. Rob owns two puppies and an old-fashioned computer that can axe his inspiration on an occasional basis. In addition to his books listed below, there will be many more coming from Rob, so make sure to keep him in your watchlist!

Book preview

Atalanta

Part 1

Chapter 1

The forest was relatively silent as the hunting party passed by, four men and six dogs. The former scanned the ground for tracks, the latter for any scent of their quarry. At the first warning growls Eustathios raised a hand. The other three men instantly froze in their tracks. Xanthippos and Apollodotus nocked arrows to strings while Kallias leveled his spear at the undergrowth before them. Eustathios felt the hairs stand up on his neck as his ears caught the sound of heavy footfalls. Far too heavy to be the wolves they had been tracking since dawn. The sensation grew worse as it was joined by playful high-pitched barks.

She-bear. He whispered to the others. With cubs. Sounds like they’re coming this way.

As he spoke Eustathios readied his own spear for a desperate thrust. If the beast came upon the hunting party she would certainly perceive them as a threat to her young and attack. She was already close; there was no time to retreat.

But why is she coming this way? Surely she’s close enough to scent the dogs and avoid us.

Suddenly another sound reached his ears, higher in pitch than the barking of the bear cubs. He heard Kallias give a sharp intake of breath.

Oh, gods! Is that a child?

Sounds like it. Xanthippos said grimly. What now?

Suddenly there was no time for an answer. The bushes ahead trembled. The four hunters froze like statues, weapons ready, their dogs snarling. The bushes parted and three brown forms lumbered into the open. Eustathios had faced down many dangerous beasts in his time, but even he could not restrain a gasp of surprise. It was indeed a she-bear, and an old one. He read that in the slow deliberate way she moved. At the sight of the dogs, the two cubs scrambled to hide behind their mother. Her russet fur on one shoulder was marred by a great pale scar that could have only been made by a hunter’s spear. But it was not the bear itself the elicited his reaction. It was what the creature bore on its back. There, nestled amid the great shoulders was a small dirty pink bundle.

Eustathios. Xanthippos murmured. Move right. I can get a clean shot at its eyes.

With such a large beast you had to kill it instantly, otherwise pain and rage would sustain it long enough to kill you before realizing it was already dead. But before he could move the she-bear turned her head towards the infant and gripped it in her jaws. Eustathios felt the breath freeze in his lungs as the infant screamed in protest. But the bear did not bite down. Instead it placed the baby gently on the ground before it. Behind him, Eustathios heard one of the others muttering a prayer. The she-bear nudged the infant towards the four humans, then turned away and lumbered back through the bushes followed by her cubs.

For a long moment, no one moved, not even the hounds. Then, slowly, Eustathios approached and knelt over the baby.

Eustathios? Kallias’ voice shook slightly, and he was not an easy man to unnerve.

It’s a girl. He announced, gently picking the child up and turning to face the others. They gathered around to stare at the infant who was still crying from her handling by the bear. A skullcap of black fuzz clung to her scalp and her limbs flailed uselessly at the air.

What does this mean? Apollodotus asked.

It’s sign from the gods. Kallias declared. It must be.

We can discuss that later. Eustathios said sternly. We should head home, it’s still early in the spring and the night chill will not be kind to her.

. . .

The hunting party managed to return to the village before nightfall. They had pushed hard and fast so that both dogs and men were panting for breath. The others followed Eustathios as he walked the rest of the way to his house and called for his wife.

Lysandra?

An instant later she opened the door.

I thought you wouldn’t be home until noon tomorrow. She said. Then she saw the infant in her husband’s arms and her eyes widened. Eustathios broke in before she could ask any questions.

Do you have anything we could use to cover her? Any spare goat’s milk?

Of course. I’ll get them right away.

Eustathios turned to the others. Could one of you inform the Elders of this before you go home tonight? I think it best that they are told as soon as possible.

I’ll go. Xanthippos said.

Thank you. The rest of you, go get some rest.

The others seemed reluctant to leave, but they said their goodnights and turned to seek their own homes and families. Eustathios took the baby into the house. It was small, a main area with a tiny bedchamber and smaller storage space, but it was home. Lysandra was already heating the milk over their hearth fire by the time he joined her.

Silently, he gave the infant into her arms and watched as the child began to suck on a milk-soaked cloth. The baby’s eyes were open and they bore an expression of intense concentration as she fed. A smile crept across Lysandra’s face, but the pain and longing in her eyes was obvious.

Where did you find her?

With a bear, if you can believe it. Her parents must have abandoned her. It’s been a hard winter."

The baby began to whimper. Lysandra rocked her back and forth.

Do you think we could convince the Elders to let us keep her?

I intend to ask them that tomorrow.

Lysandra sighed, her eyes shining with loving gratitude, and leaned against her husband.

What will we call her?

We’ve prayed for a child for years without success. Now at last the gods have seen fit to balance the scales.

The infant had fallen asleep and Eustathios gently took her into his arms. He smiled down at the sleeping form. Then he looked at his wife.

Her name will be Atalanta.

Chapter 2

Mommy!

Lysandra looked up from her weaving and sighed at the sight of her five-year old daughter.

Atalanta. What have you been doing this time?

The little girl wiped her snotty nose on a torn sleeve before replying.

Nikanor and Orestes wouldn’t let me play with them. So I hit him.

Which one?

Both.

Lysandra sighed again as she went over to soak a cloth in water. Returning to Atalanta, she could see the tears that refused to fall. Her daughter could be very stubborn when she wanted. Gently she wiped the dirt away. Atalanta flinched whenever she touched a bruise or scrape.

Mommy, why can’t I play with them anymore?

Because you’re all growing up little one, and as you grow childish games are left behind. They will become men one day and you will become a lady.

I don’t think playing war is childish. Was the resentful reply. And anyway they’re still playing it, they just won’t let me join anymore.

Again, you are becoming a young lady, Atalanta. One day you will marry and have a family of your own. That’s why I’m teaching you how to cook, weave and look after the house. Or at least I would if you would pay attention and let me.

But it’s so boring! Came the petulant reply.

Mind your tone.

Why do boys get to learn how to fight and hunt?

Well, do you know any other girl who plays rough like you?

Her daughter thought for a moment. No. None of the others want to. They just sniff at me and say I’m unnatural because their mothers say so-Ow! Mommy that was too rough!

Sorry dear. Shamefaced, Lysandra soaked the cloth again, trying to squash her own anger.

Anyway, Eudoxia tried once, but then she complained about getting dirty and went back inside.

She brightened suddenly. Maybe it’s because I’m special, like Papa says.

Lysandra smiled. All children are special to their parents, dear. And Papa and I love you very much.

Atalanta smiled another beaming smile. I know.

She could be a real beauty someday, if she could only stay clean.

When does Papa come home?

Lysandra felt the old familiar worry at those words. He said he would try to be home before the planting begins. That’s two days from now.

Or he could be home today.

Suppressing a cry of surprise, Lysandra turned to see her husband standing in the doorway, a long string of hares slung across his shoulder.

Squealing with delight Atalanta ran to hug her father. Eustathios tousled her black hair affectionately, and then went over to kiss Lysandra. As always, his presence made all her pent up worry vanish like morning mist.

Any more prizes?

Kallias killed a large sow. He and Apollodotus are bringing it back. It killed two dogs before we could finally bring it down.

Was anyone hurt?

Fortunately not this time. But Xanthippos is heartbroken over the hounds.

He always is. Invite him and his family for dinner tonight. A good hot meal and some wine always helps to cheer him up.

Eustathios kissed her again. Thank you, love.

Turning suddenly, he scooped up Atalanta and carried her outside, laughing at her squealing protests. Lysandra sighed and went to get a skinning knife.

. . .

Xanthippos and his pregnant wife joined them that night as promised and Eustathios made sure to keep the other man’s wine cup full whenever possible. As predicted the more wine the morose hunter consumed, the lighter his mood became. Lysandra and Metrodora did most of the talking. Occasionally Atalanta would break in to boast of her latest victory in a footrace with other children. Other times she proudly cataloged her bruises in her latest fight with the boys and the damage she had inflicted on them, much to her mother’s displeasure. At last, when the meal of roasted hare was finished and Xanthippos was starting to nod off from the wine, Lysandra saw Atlanta turn eagerly to Eustathios. As usual her father preempted her.

You want a story?

Atalanta nodded vigorously. Eustathios smiled and leaned towards his daughter across the hearth. Pitching his voice dramatically, he began.

When my grandfather was a young man, tales of Orion were already being told from Epirus to Lacedonia. In prowess, as a man, as a hunter, as a warrior, he had no equal among mortals.

In the firelight Atalanta’s eyes shone brightly with eagerness. Seeing that light Lysandra sighed.

If only she were so eager to learn cooking.

One night, his father Hyrieus was visited by three strangers. Eustathios went on. Hyrieus himself was poor, with only a single ox to his name. But he honored the laws of hospitality and slaughtered it to feed his guests. Touched by his generosity they revealed themselves to him as Zeus, Hermes and Poseidon and asked him his desire. Hyrieus asked for a son and the gods told him to bury the ox hide and wait for nine months. He did so and nine months later he returned to the spot and found a infant boy.

At this a flicker crossed Atalanta’s small face, one that Lysandra would have missed were she not looking at her daughter. It was soon past however and the girl was listening, rapt as ever.

Orion grew up in the care of Hyrieus and fell in love with the hunt. He was so devoted to the art that some say he had no time for women. The only being that matched his skill, indeed she surpassed him, was the goddess Artemis herself. Often they would hunt together with the mortal always coming close, but never quite matching the Olympian. Even so, the goddess was greatly impressed by such a man of ability and vigor as he.

Eustathios leaned in, lowering his voice to a theatrical whisper. There are even some who say that the virgin huntress was tempted to forswear her famous chastity for him.

Atalanta suppressed a giggle. Xanthippos snorted a laugh. But both women scowled at Eustathios and he quickly moved on.

Orion’s greatest act was when King Oenopion of Chios hired him slay the countless monsters that had infested his island kingdom. Beasts of fur and feather, scale and claw. Creatures with wings and some that crawled on their bellies like serpents. He tracked and slew every last one. By the time the final beast lay dead at his feet the hero was wild with euphoria at this newest display of his prowess. Caught in the heady moment he boasted that he was greatest hunter in the world, greater than any god and that he would hunt and slay every beast that lived.

Eustathios shook his head. And that was his error, for Artemis heard his boast. The gods show favor upon those who do great deeds, but a mortal should never presume superiority to an Olympian. Also Artemis is the guardian of wild beasts and if they were all slain she would have no game to hunt. So as Orion reveled in his triumph, she sent a scorpion. The creature ended the hero’s life in one venomous blow. Orion had overreached himself but he had still done great deeds. So Artemis besought her father and Zeus placed the hero and his assassin among the stars, where they will stay to the ending of the world.

Xanthippos lazily reached towards a remnant of food on his plate and disturbed a bowl of fruit. An apple was knocked loose and nearly rolled into the fire. With a gasp of dismay Atalanta seized the errant fruit in time and glared at Xanthippos. Apples were her favorite.

At last their guests left and Lysandra began to clear away the remnants of the meal. Eustathios was stretching and preparing to go to bed. Atalanta sat staring into the fire, her cheerful attentiveness nowhere to be seen.

Papa. Did the gods give me to you like Orion?

Lysandra froze. Eustathios’ expression did not change. He stared at his daughter across the embers of the hearth.

What do you mean, Atalanta?

Well. . .After I hit Orestes he called me a lot of mean names. . . She glanced at Lysandra and apparently decided against repeating any of them.

But he also called me a. . .well, an orphan. And well. . .

Lysandra’s heart sank at the sadness in her daughter’s eyes as Atalanta looked from one parent to the other. She knew what those eyes were seeing, Eustahios’ brown hair and Lysandra’s own. Her own hazel eyes and her husband’s gray ones. Comparing them to Atlanta’s own hair and eyes, both as black as scorched wood.

Eustathios’ mouth twisted into a grim, sad smile. I’m afraid you are clever beyond your years, Atalanta.

At the words Atalanta seemed to shrink in upon herself. Heart aching, Lysandra sat down beside her and gently put her arms about the narrow shoulders. Eustathios continued, repeating the story of how the bear had brought Atalanta to him and the others. When he