“For shame,” Orpheus said. “Is that the way to receive a gift? It is unkind to reject a free offering, as if you expected to be obligated by it more heavily than you desired.”
“Not more heavily than I desire,” Eurydice replied softly, but with sparkling eyes and a wicked grin. “Nor an obligation that I object to carrying. Only, because of the circumstances, an obligation that may take longer than I like to repay.”
“If that is your feeling—” Orpheus leaned forward suddenly and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose “—then it is no obligation at all between us, only a promise from each to each. But not because of the dress, Eurydice. That was as much for the honor of the Argo as for the pleasure it would give you.”
Eurydice withdrew her head. “Men!” she grumbled. “Do you think a compliment will puff up my pride too much. Honor, honor, honor. Very well, I will do my best to do you proud.” But her heart sang for the honesty that admitted two purposes, and one that might not flatter her and might free her, if she wanted to be freed, from any obligation to return gift for gift.
Jason approved heartily of the Eurydice that emerged from behind the curtain and even, after rummaging in the depths of his kit, came up with a golden circlet to fix in her hair and long gold earrings. Eurydice froze, her eyes fixed on his, and Orpheus dropped a hand on her shoulder.
Jason laughed aloud and said, “Only for tonight. Do not lose them, Eurydice.”
She accepted the ornaments then, putting in the earrings herself, but handing the circlet to Orpheus to place on her head. Afterward she could feel Jason’s eyes on her back, but she kept her own eyes resolutely ahead. Jason looked magnificent in a dark blue tunic, lavishly embroidered with white, and a white himation, equally lavishly embroidered in dark blue, draped as gracefully as a work of art. Orpheus’ garments were far more modest, a plain white tunic with blue embroidery at neck and hem, and a plain blue cloak that matched his eyes. His appearance was also far less handsome and commanding, but he moved a little then and she saw the cithara on his back and shuddered inside with a mingling of joyful anticipation and…almost…dread. Each time she heard him play and sing, she became more addicted to what he offered—not magic, she was warded against his magic—only beauty, which her Gift seized and fed upon.
Eurydice saw that Mopsus, Tiphys, and Lynkeus were also dressed for the court and heard Jason tell Orpheus that Idmon would stay with the ship to sense danger, Heracles to defend it. Twenty men had already gone ashore; they would return at sundown and the other twenty would leave. Actually, Jason said with a wry mouth as they left the ship, he would have liked to take Heracles with him, but he did not want Hylas along. Orpheus pointed out that Hylas’ manners were better on formal occasions, and Jason shrugged and said it was not so much because he might misbehave as because he might make himself a source of conflict. Heracles had been glad, Jason pointed out, even though—he winced as Hylas’ piercing tones rose in lamentation—he was the one who would have to listen as Hylas bewailed his disappointment. Orpheus shuddered as Hylas’ voice followed them down the street, and he said with a gentle smile that Eurydice never seemed to complain at all. Eurydice set her teeth and wished she could step on Orpheus’ toes to stop him; she did not think it was wise to sing her praises to Jason.
Personal considerations faded into insignificance, at least temporarily, after they arrived at Kyzikos’ palace. Eurydice had thought the temple rich and luxurious, but even the lofty, gilded shrine paled in comparison with Kyzikos’ megaron. It was not so high as the temple, but the pillars were all of polished marble, each a different color, and the floor was inset with tiny pieces that made pictures. Braziers burning scented charcoal took the chill off the evening air, and a huge U-shaped table—or table sections formed into a U—was surrounded by wide dining couches almost full of guests.
When she had absorbed the symbols of Kyzikos’ wealth, Eurydice turned her attention to her fellow guests. She soon came to the conclusion that even Hylas would have been hard put to cause any disturbance among the group gathered. Kyzikos was a gracious host. He called Jason and his party to couches beside his own, and, eyes sparkling with interest, ordered a cushioned chair to be set just behind Jason’s couch for Eurydice—the only such chair in the chamber. Plainly, he assumed she was Jason’s woman. Jason did not correct the assumption—nor did Eurydice, for fear she would offend, but she wished she could be sure that Jason’s motive was the same.
The meal served was rich and varied, the dishes strange enough to be enticing but not so different as to make the guests, uncomfortable. Jason, having accepted the tribute of possession, had forgotten Eurydice—Greek women did not eat with their men. But Orpheus had not. He filled a plate and passed it to her. She would have accepted it in any case because he had broken his own custom so that she should not go hungry or be shamed, but by then she realized his gesture would cause no trouble. These people might themselves follow the Greek pattern of suppressing women, but the unusual was welcome here.
The court was a model of propriety—the glances cast at her were accompanied by smiles of welcome. Indeed, Kyzikos’ other guests were plainly accustomed to foreigners and prepared to accept, without taking insult, the most outlandish customs. Jason need not have brought her to warn him against solecisms; he could probably have spit in the soup without enraging his fellow guests. Her treatment was an example of that, the smiles and snippets of conversation addressed to her were without stares or leers, even though no other women were present. But she was not enough. Eurydice felt a kind of disappointment in the other guests, as if her party was far too ordinary for the taste of these people, as if oddity had become a kind of drug they craved.
A mild spark of interest was generated by Jason’s tale of his quest. Several had heard of Phrixos, or rather of Phrixos’ wonderful mount. One said he had been told that beast and rider, glowing with a strange light, had appeared in a town called Libyssa, the beast all glittering gold, the rider sad and wan, mourning a sister he had lost and asking for directions to Colchis. Asking for Colchis, another said, smiling indulgently, was like asking the way to Mount Olympus. It was a place of mighty magicians that kept itself hidden.
“Were there not even rumors of where to find it?” Jason asked. “There are tales enough of how to find Olympus. They may be false tales, but I would like to hear them.”
Most shook their heads. One said he had heard of a Seer named Phineus who lived on the south coast of the great black sea. The west coast, another said, not the south. They fell to wrangling, but good humouredly, until still another said that it might be best for Jason to follow Phrixos’ path. The place where he had been seen was well known. It was in the land of the Bebrykes on the coast of Thyn in Bithynia.
The interest was polite, as the hosts truly desired to be helpful, but Eurydice still felt their gentle dissatisfaction. That, however, did not outlast Orpheus’ first notes. Every person in the room, except Orpheus’ companions who were well accustomed to his art, stiffened to attention. They scarcely breathed during his first song and begged for more passionately but softly, as if they feared to break a spell. A rich ring was carried to him by a servant.
Orpheus bowed his thanks and began again, singing of the trials of their voyage and of their imprisonment by the women of Lemnos. The listeners wept with horror and with pity and at last with relief when the men won their freedom. Their interest of the tale somewhat diluted the impact of voice and music. That was almost a comfort, and the company was no less eager to hear more. Additional gifts were carried to the bard. Eurydice saw that Orpheus had not been boasting when he told her that he could easily provide for her. He sang again, a hymn to Aphrodite that was so achingly beautiful that, although no longer frozen by his music, Eurydice felt as if strands of sound were winding their way into her body, becoming enmeshed in her flesh. It would be painful, indeed, she thought, to pull herself free.
They would have sat all night listening and piling treasure into Orpheus’ lap, but the h
ymn was his last song. Kyzikos, who had been gravely hospitable, now became warmly eager for more of their company. He urged them strongly to stay, offering free docking and help in finding a good trading cargo. Jason smiled and said they might linger a few days and he would be glad to find a cargo if it could be quickly assembled, but that trade was not their purpose. He spoke sadly of King Pelias’ plight, of his poor kinsman’s dreams haunted by Phrixos’ ghost. They had been delayed so long already by the women of Lemnos. A few days, then, Kyzikos said. And would he come to dine and talk and allow Orpheus to sing again the next day?
“Why not?” Jason said, still smiling.
Eurydice’s hands had knotted in her lap. She knew Jason had no intention of remaining, that he would sail as soon as Lynkeus could see his way past the guard ships, and such a pall of dread fell upon her that for a moment she could scarcely breathe. She regained enough control by the time the guests rose to leave to say the proper things to Kyzikos, who made her a guest gift of a pretty necklace, only one of the many he distributed: a magnificent gold armband to Jason; for Orpheus, a gold chain of many links; handsome silver cups to Mopsus and Lynkeus; and a pair of exquisite copper wristlets to Tiphys. Nonetheless, horror gripped her and would not let go.
Chapter Eight
The men retrieved their swords from the hall outside the megaron and went down the steps from the portico into the courtyard and then out onto the street with Orpheus and Eurydice in the center of the group. Lynkeus, walking ahead with Jason, strained his eyes into the darkness, seeking the darker shadows within shadows that might mark an ambush. Mopsus, bringing up the rear with Tiphys, strained every sense he had to perceive the “scent” of desire, of acquisitiveness, of the tension that precedes an attack. Eurydice swallowed and swallowed trying to loosen her throat enough to tell them there was no need. The danger was not in being kept in Kyzikos but in leaving it.
When they reached the ship, Jason said, “Whatever you feared did not come to pass, Eurydice. Does it still hang over you?” He spoke softly so as not to wake and alarm the sleeping men.
“It is not here,” she whispered. “Kyzikos is a good man. No matter how much he desires that Orpheus stay—and he will doubtless offer him great wealth and a high place if he would remain—he would not keep him here by force nor do you any harm.”
“Mopsus?” Jason asked.
“I felt nothing from Kyzikos,” Mopsus answered slowly. “Oh, I sensed his pleasure in Orpheus’ singing and some desire to have such a bard for his own—but nothing dangerous with that feeling. But then he started to speak of our staying, and I was overwhelmed by Eurydice’s fear.”
“Fear of what?” Jason snarled, low and angry, at Eurydice.
“Blood,” she whispered. “I See blood, but not here, not in Kyzikos. It is ahead of us. Jason, it is dangerous to leave. We must stay here.”
“Stay here? How long?”
“I do not know,” Eurydice cried, and burst into tears. “Seeing is not my Gift. It never was. I do not understand what I See.”
Orpheus came and put his arm around her, and she turned her face into his shoulder.
“Idmon,” Jason said. “Go wake him, Tiphys. Sometimes he Sees. It may be he will understand this, although he has not been able to look ahead since we left Lemnos.” As Tiphys made his way carefully to Idmon’s place, Jason’s eyes came back to Eurydice. “Those accursed women sucked his skill from him. Women! Nothing but trouble.”
“She is doing her best, Jason,” Orpheus said softly.
Eurydice said nothing. Her inability to interpret the bright splashes of blood behind her eyes and the feeling of dread that weighted her heart had nothing to do with her being a woman. It was because she was not trained to understand. But she had never Seen in the Temple, not once. That was a prized Gift, more valued even than her own ability to Heal, and would have been nurtured carefully by the priestesses if they had detected the smallest talent for it. Finding was a related skill, yes, but that was Seeing in the past. That was different. Many could See past events, very few could See the future.
Baltaseros had claimed he could… Baltaseros! She had sucked out Baltaseros’ Power! Was it possible that she had taken with it the Gift of Seeing. For a moment Eurydice felt a fierce elation, but only for a moment. In the next instant, she was even more terrified. To See without knowing how to interpret her visions could be a great danger to those around her—and could drive her mad!
Idmon came, rubbing his eyes and huddling into his blanket, chilled with being wakened suddenly and with the emotions that flooded out of Eurydice. He listened to what Jason told him, and shook his head. “I sense her terror—” Then he stopped, looking confused, and stared at Eurydice; after that, he went on slowly, “No, not terror. She does not fear the vision for herself. Dread, yes, that is what she feels, dread, but what causes it—”
“Blood,” Eurydice sobbed. “I See blood, great splashes of blood. And a weight like that of mountains sits on my heart.”
“Child,” Idmon said, almost smiling and putting out a hand to pat her arm. “You are almost certainly Seeing the truth, but it is meaningless. Ahead of us on the Argo are many adventures, and in them we will doubtless spill some blood, our own and that of others.” He moved aside to speak softly to Jason. “The sense of dread may be more serious. But if she cannot put a time to her Seeing we could sit here for a year, or forever, and it could still overtake us. It may be some event that waits for us if we go forward and only by abandoning the search altogether could we avoid the Seeing.” He sighed and shrugged. “And even then, we might not.” He sighed again and shook his head. “As for me, I have no vision, none at all.”
“Then I think we should leave as soon as it is light enough to see,” Jason said. “I did not like the way Kyzikos and his court reacted to Orpheus. I think if we do not go, they may try to take him from us by force.”
“And they would give me back in no time at all,” Orpheus said. “I will sing them all such bellyaches and headaches they will be glad to be rid of me.”
Jason smiled at him. “Give you back, perhaps, but possibly not in the same condition that you arrived. No, I will take no chances with your safety, Orpheus.” He looked at Eurydice. “Unless the blood she Sees in the future is yours?”
Eurydice looked up at Orpheus, but no wound marred him and the dread did not increase. “Not specifically his,” she said faintly. “I do not know.”
“Do you wish to remain here in Kyzikos and avoid our fate?” Jason asked coldly.
Orpheus slackened his grip slightly, as if to allow her freedom to choose, but it was also a signal to her that he would go. Like the others, he had sworn to support Jason to the end of his quest. Eurydice knew she could stay safely in Kyzikos, but it did not matter.
“No,” she breathed. “If you go, I will go.”
“Take her to bed,” Jason said, less coldly. “When the crew is all returned and can be assembled, we will decide.”
* * *
Eurydice did not attend that council. Jason sent Orpheus to ask her if she had any more to say, but she had not and he bade her stay abed. Orpheus did not contest the order, but he was sure that Jason knew her pallid face and trembling voice would have a far greater effect than his own flat statement that Eurydice had seen battle and blood ahead if they left Kyzikos. It was Jason’s intention to have the crew agree to leave, and he accomplished his purpose easily.
A few scoffed at a woman’s ability to See anything; others reminded them sharply of the Pythoness, the priestess at Delphi, but even those were not inclined to be fearful. None of the men was afraid of visions of spilled blood. They were all skilled fighting men, and they had come on the voyage expecting to engage in battle. The few who spoke for staying a few days were not trying to avoid the battle but eager to enjoy the taverns and women of Kyzikos. When Jason said he wished to leave because he felt the king or some of his courtiers would try to catch and keep Orpheus, however, they voted for departure as one man.
>
Jason had detailed several plans for winning through the circle of ships that guarded the harbor, but no special device was necessary. They were hailed and questioned, but passed without difficulty when the guardians were assured that the Argo was in its rightful owner’s hands. The wind was wrong, coming down off the land full against the ship, so they never raised the mast and the men had to row all the way up the coast of the peninsula. However, the weather was fine, a light cloud keeping the sun from heating the rowers too much and enough wind to cool them with a breeze but not so strong as to interfere with the progress of the ship. And when they turned east, along the coast of the peninsula, the wind fell behind them and they were able to raise the mast, set sail, and coast along.
When he was free of his duty, Orpheus tried to cheer Eurydice by expanding on what Idmon had said and explaining that, though battle might be horrible to her as a woman, the men were mostly looking forward to it. She tried to respond, tried to explain that it was not the fact of battle but that it was the wrong battle. Orpheus laughed and said that no battle that was won was wrong, and eventually Eurydice forced a smile or two. Encouraged, he teased her a little, claiming that she was really disappointed because everything was going so well. He was trying to make her angry so she would not be able to dwell on her fears, she knew, and for his sake she denied the allegation as vehemently as she could.
At noon she roused herself to get out the supplies for the meal, and Orpheus took that as a good sign and lingered to talk here and there. Eurydice was glad of it because it saved her putting on a good face when her heart felt like a lump of cold iron in her breast and the red splotches still flashed behind her eyes from time to time, but she was not alone for long. Idmon came and sat beside her, asking why she was so frightened by her vision—not of the vision but by having it.
Enchanted Fire Page 13
