"Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier;

I have seen worse sights than this."

WAVES BATTER THE trireme as Poseidon rages in the depths of the Aegean. Apollonides grips onto the railing with one hand, the other holds tight to the Staff of Asklepius. His face pale. The serpent figurehead dives downward and a swell breaks over the bow. A powerful wall of water claims three deckhands, sweeping them into the sea. He has spent his life at sea, traveling between the Dodecanese Isles as a physician and surgeon, but has never endured a storm like this.

The dark waters churn and Zeus unleashes his fury upon the sky. Fulminations of light illuminate jagged rocks jutting from the water. The storm has driven them toward the shallows. Rowers extend oars, fighting to keep the trireme from crashing into the rocks as the captain and lieutenant bark orders over the storm.

"Is this punishment for turning my back on Athens?" Apollonides shouts at the black sky above, rain and wind lashing his face. A sharp bolt of lightning splits the sky and the tall mast of the ship splinters into a thousand fiery pieces. Thunder erupts. He takes it as his answer. The gods are against him.

Many of his kinsmen had gone to serve in the court of Persian kings before him –none ever mentioned evoking the wrath of gods. He had been promised great rewards if he came to the court of Artaxerxes to tend to the King's marriage brother and his most renowned general. Megabyzus had suffered a grievous injury while leading the forces to strike down the Egyptian revolt and needed a skilled physician.

Reprieve comes by dawn. The sea has settled, but there is no wind to fill the sails and no land on the horizon. Salt has tainted the barrels of water and many men are leaning over the rails, sick. Apollonides knows they must make port soon, else be doomed to thirst and delirium.

The crew pushes through the heat of the day, welcome the veil of night, but do not stop until the ship docks in the early hours of the morning. Ephesus rises on the hills, grand and burgeoning. Apollonides leans heavily on the Staff of Asklepius -an old injury in his leg flaring up. A procession of Artaxerxes men is waiting to escort him to the royal residence.

Markets pass in a blur of color, as do the children chasing one another in the streets. He is taken to Megabyzus without hiatus. The Persian general lies face down on a cot, a pack of herbs and honey covering the entity of his back. Apollonides peels back the fig leaves. The wound is grievous, indeed -and showing signs of septicity. He tells the maidservant the items he will need to begin treatment.

Apollonides works best in solitude, but he soon detects he is not alone. She stands across from him, watching as her husband is tended. A second's glance is all it takes for him to know who she is. "Princess," the physician breathes. Amytis could make Aphrodite envious –with hair blacker than Nyx's, high cheekbones and large amber eyes. However, she does not seem relieved.

Her teeth grind together as she looks at Megabyzus's maimed back. When her mother revealed what occurred in Egypt, Amytis had prayed he would fall from the Chinvat Bridge and never return to plague her. It angers her to know Artyphius had received nothing akin to this type of treatment. No mother should have to bury her weaning child. Artyphius's death only noshes her resent. "You should not go to such efforts for a man like him."

The physician straightens, reaches for a macairion from his tools and begins to shave away the etiolated skin. "He is cruel," Amytis mutters. Marks of her husband's cruelty have faded, but she can recall the sharp pains and lingering bruises he has bestowed upon her. The torment will begin again if he recovers.

"I must do as the king commands," Apollonides counters, continuing to work. Amytis's front falters. Tears swell in the princess's eyes, her bottom lip quivers. She has longed for freedom, but it will be snatched away from her once again. Apollonides watches as she absconds the room, focus returning to his patient.

A SHEEN OF sweat makes Amytis's skin glow in the moonlight. She lies next to him -fingers tracing patterns over his chest. Apollonides has tended to Megabyzus for over two scores. The general's wounds are clean and healing, but now a mysterious ailment plagues him, keeps him confined to his chambers and bed. The Greek physician saves the man's life and in turn, takes his wife. "We cannot continue this, Amytis," he confesses though the words are hard to say.

She sits up, frowns. "Why not?"

Apollonides sighs, brushes the hair from her face and looks into her haunting amber eyes. There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of longing, his lover's whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad. He wants this and her, but guilt is a strong toxin. The princess convinces him to give her husband small doses of poison, helps him slip the deadly leaves and flowers into teas and wines. It gives them time to be with each other. "He will grow impervious to the nightshade," the physician explains. Or it will kill him, but he does not want the stain of murder on his hands.

Outside of forced marriage, Amytis is a woman of power and strategy. Often the proof shines through in moments when he least expects it, like now -when she is astride him. "If by killing one man you could save a dozen, is it not worth the blood?" She asks, and the question will forever haunt him.

Megabyzus makes a full recovery from his deathbed. He will never draw a bow again, but the general can still march into battle with sword and spear. The Persian king commends Apollonides for his service and makes him the head physician of the western reach of the Persian Empire, provides a permanent practice in Ephesus and a dozen neophytes.

The princess comes across the physician while walking through the stoa connecting the gardens and residence. Amytis grips onto his arm, pulls him behind one of the columns. They have been apart for too long and she misses his touch. "Meet me in the water garden after sundown," she pleads.

He does as she asks. At sundown he goes to the water gardens and finds her sitting on the edge of a reflection pool, fingers combing through the water. The princess rises when she sees her lover approaching. "Amytis," he breathes, taking her delicate face into his hands. She smiles, reaches up to kiss him. Apollonides is hesitant, but it fades.

"Come away with me," she whispers as they part, a soft prayer only he has the power to answer. "We could go anywhere, Apollonides." The princess reaches for his hand, brings it to rest upon her belly. He pales at the implications. "The three of us."

"You-" He begins and she nods, fighting to hide her smile. Apollonides knows they cannot leave Persia without repercussions, but he promises to care for her and the child. Amytis knows she is fortunate to have met such a kindhearted man. Through her tears, she kisses him again and asks the gods what she had done to make them bind her to a man like Megabyzus.

The princess's belly swells in time and Megabyzus grows more skeptical about the child in her womb. Amytis swears she laid with him in his recovery but has now taken a vow of asceticism, refusing the touch of her husband. Yet she welcomes the touch of Apollonides, the physician who has promised to see her through the pregnancy.

When the child is born, Amytis weeps. It is a healthy girl, with a tuft of dark hair and bright blue eyes that belong neither to Amytis nor Megabyzus.