Free Styxx (DH #33) by Sherrilyn Kenyon

of a weapon than a source of protection.…
    His weakened left arm that was still healing from when Galen had broken it during practice several months back ached and threatened to give way under the vicious assault.
    Bellowing in rage, Galen kicked him so fiercely it lifted him from his feet and slammed him to the ground, flat on his back. Styxx hit the dirt so hard, his breath left his lungs with such force that it felt as if both lungs had collapsed.
    Stunned from the pain, Styxx stared up at his trainer through the cheek guards of his bronze helm. Galen painfully wrenched the hoplon from his arm and threw it aside then started kicking him mercilessly in the ribs with all his stout strength.
    His arms were so numb and battered from the earlier blows, Styxx couldn’t even begin to protect himself from the kicks.
    “Is that your answer, boy, when you’re attacked? Drop your xiphos and then cower behind your hoplon like a cornered mouse? What do you think an enemy would do to you in battle?”
    If I’m lucky, kill me .
    “Tell me, where’s your smart mouth now?”
    It wasn’t his mouth that was damaged. Rather he had yet to draw enough air into his lungs to speak.
    “Enough!”
    Galen delivered one last stomp to Styxx’s groin before he heeded the king’s shout.
    Cupping himself, Styxx saw stars as bile rose in his throat. Damn, that hurt. The old man kicked like a stampeding rhinoceros.
    His hoplomachos bowed low to his father while Styxx writhed in absolute misery. “Majesty. To what do I owe this honor?”
    “I wanted to check my son’s progress, such as it isn’t.… Now leave us.”
    With a vicious glare at Styxx that promised him retribution for making him look incompetent before the king, Galen inclined his head then made a hasty retreat.
    Still coughing and wheezing, Styxx rolled over and forced himself to his feet. He let go of his groin and straightened even though all he wanted to do was lie down until he could breathe again.
    His father’s revulsion and disdain hit him even harder than Galen’s last kick. Styxx spat the blood from his loosened teeth to the ground.
    “What was that I just saw?” his father growled.
    Me getting my ass kicked by your retired polemarchos. Was the man blind? There was a reason why Galen had once led the entire Didymosian army. Stronger than Atlas, the old buzzard had never been defeated by anyone.
    And definitely not by a skinny boy.
    His father struck his cuirass so hard, it forced Styxx to take a step back. “You threw down your xiphos?”
    “I was trying to protect myself,” Styxx explained.
    His father jerked the helm from Styxx’s head and threw it on the ground in disgust. He hit him in the chest again. “You’re not worthy of armor this fine. You disgrace it.” His blue eyes blazed with fury an instant before he backhanded Styxx so hard his head snapped back. “Coward!”
    Facing him without fear, Styxx licked at the blood on his lips then wiped it away with the back of his hand. “I’m just a boy, Father. Not a grown soldier.”
    Only ten-and-two … Galen wore sandals that were older.
    His father grabbed his hair and jerked him forward. “You have shamed me with your effeminate fear,” he shouted in Styxx’s ear. “I thought I was raising a king and not a queen. I should make you fight in one of your sister’s peploses and earbobs.” He shoved him away, toward the direction of the dressing rooms. “Change your clothes, go to your mother and placate her then you are to be whipped for your cowardice and insolence. Understood?”
    Styxx gave him the most sarcastic salute he could manage. “Understood … my king.”
    Pain in my ass.
    The repugnant expression on his father’s face promised severe retaliation later. So be it.… He’d failed to meet the king’s high expectations.
    There’s a fucking surprise .
    Disgusted with himself and his father, Styxx retrieved his helm and hoplon. When he went to pick up his sword, his father kicked him