Free The Trials of Hercules by Tammie Painter Page B

prospect is nearing his wedding day. The woman who makes the biggest donation finds her name happens to be chosen on the wedding day. How can it not? After all, hers will be the only name written on the slips of paper in the selection box.
    Herc’s wife has been dead nearly eleven months. Men are allowed a period of grieving from the time of death until their next birthday comes around. So, according to Hera’s law, Herc will have to marry again within the month.
    “My apologies,” I offer. “It’s been a strange day and I was rude. But your own law states weddings take place on the man’s birthday, so he’ll just have to stay in the House of Hera another few weeks. Then, it will fall on my shoulders to find him a bride. Unless you have someone in mind.”
    As I have calculated, Hera’s vanity is appeased by my deference. Her cross expression softens.
    “I’ll be certain to find the right woman. Now, do you have an idea for your cousins’ first labor? If not, I have a suggestion.”
    I do have something in mind. There’s been word from other poli that black market dealers from Ares’s polis are willing to pay a Solon’s ransom for hydra’s blood—the most poisonous substance in Osteria. But if I want to keep Hera on my good side, I need to let her take her turn in this game.
    “I thought you didn’t want to think about it.”
    A wicked smile dances across her lips. “When an opportunity comes, I take it. I promise, I didn’t think long on him. I never do.”
    For someone who doesn’t think much about Herc Dion, she certainly seems to spend a great deal of effort devising ways to make his life miserable. But I hold this comment on my tongue. The rare moments when Hera is in a good mood are when she is pleased with herself. I have no desire to be the one to cause her foul mood to return.
    “Then by all means, share your idea.”
    “The Nemean Lion.”
    I stare at her. She has to be kidding. Hera will kill my cousins on the very first task.
    The creature that is now dubbed the Nemean Lion roamed into Osteria last year. Some say it came from the Middens, the high mountains at the far eastern edge of Osteria, but others say it came from the monstrosities in the Maisland, the barren plains beyond the Middens where all animals and humans are said to have mutated into living horrors during The Disaster. Regardless of where the lion came from, it has made its way across Osteria and has been terrorizing the people in the East Portaceaen district of Nemea for months. Its skin can’t be pierced with arrows or swords and the creature has eluded all traps. The beast has proven itself impossible to kill and bent on making meals of its foes.
    I can’t watch my chance to use Herc slip out of my fingers.
    “That thing can’t be destroyed,” I object. “Herc’ll be back in the blood crime vault before next Godsday. Why waste him like that? I thought you wanted to torment him.”
    “The people in Nemea have taken up a collection, a reward somewhere in the range of five thousand drachars. Apparently the lion has developed a taste for their children and they are desperate to be rid of it. Your cousin will torture himself knowing he must destroy it to protect the rest of the Nemean children.” She smiles, completely pleased with herself and the idea of Herc’s suffering. “You doubt the bastard’s skills too much when it comes to his need to do what’s right.”
    Five thousand drachars. If Nemea has that amount of money it should be paid to me, not squirreled away for their own use. My mind flits to ideas of what five thousand drachars could buy for Adneta. And to how she would reward me for the gifts.
    “You’re certain he’ll conquer it?” I ask.
    “Not entirely, but he has fair odds.”
    I consider arguing. How can he have fair odds if the thing can’t be stabbed with blades or shot with arrows? Still, I need to cement a deal with the Areans before I employ Herc against the hydra. Nemea will buy me time