“Only if I Find him with Hylas. Even if I were to sense him in the same house, it would not mean that he knew Hylas was there. Try to understand—when I Find, I find a thing not a person. Think of my Finding a man as the same thing as Finding a statue of him. A thing has no feelings, no joy, no sadness, no response, and cannot speak, so I cannot hear. I can see the statue. I can see where it is, but I cannot even tell whether the person is alive or dead, except by position. And before you ask, I will answer your next question. No, I cannot watch continuously to see whether Heracles and Hylas meet. I have not the strength to do that.”
“Then Idmon is right,” Jason said. “We must decide whether to go into town to find Hylas and Heracles, or wait longer for them, or simply leave on the tide as I said we would.”
Since Eurydice was totally indifferent to whether they went or stayed—neither being likely to make Orpheus love her if he did not—she paid no attention to the discussion that followed. In the end, it was decided that they should sail with the tide.
The departure was unusually easy. Preoccupied as Eurydice was, even she was aware of how readily the ship was floated, how little the absence of Heracles at his great oar affected the rowing, how smoothly the mast was raised and the sail set without his aid. True, it took three men to do Heracles’ part, but they did it in high spirits, laughing and egging each other on to greater effort. And as they sailed east with an easy breeze behind, the tension that had added to Eurydice’s discomfort dissipated. They had been afraid, Eurydice thought sadly, until they were truly clear of the shore and too far away to be hailed that Heracles would appear with his precious Hylas in tow.
Everyone grew steadily more cheerful, until Eurydice could happily have strangled them all. She felt guilty over the relief with which Heracles and Polyphemus, and even Hylas, had been abandoned. It was not that Jason and his crew had breached their code of honor. Jason had given adequate warning, and the town was close enough that Heracles or Polyphemus could easily have walked back to ask Jason to wait. It was the sense of relief that troubled her. Heracles was such a good person. It was sad that his very virtues should make him unwelcome. She knew the reasons; she remembered talking about them with Orpheus, but it still made her angry. That anger swirled around inside her, picking up the rags of her pride and weaving them together until she had a kind of armor against Orpheus’ indifference.
Thus armored, Eurydice got through the day, performing the tasks that were ordinarily hers, calm and smiling—she even smiled at Orpheus. He was, after all, no better or worse than any of the other men. It was her own fault she had made a fetish out of someone who was just as selfish and self-centered as any other man on this crew. But the armor weighed her down. She felt imprisoned on the ship as she had never felt before. It was time for her to leave the Argo, she admitted. If she had not been so stupid with grief, she could have walked to the town in which Hylas had sought shelter.
As if prodded by her need, the high spirits of the crew translated into the willingness to take chances. They had learned in Kyzikos that the coastline had several long peninsulas, each of which would take more than a day’s sailing to go around. Instead they struck northward across open water at a headland marked by a westward curve. There was not much danger. Because the sea they sailed in was almost closed, they could expect to find land sooner or later and well before their supplies failed. In only a few hours, however, Lynkeus sighted land ahead just as they had been told. By the time Eurydice finished serving the noon meal they had rounded the point of the narrow peninsula and, flushed with the success of the first attempt, were setting out again across open water to whatever landfall they would find to the east.
They sailed all night. The crew had done it before on their desperate crossing from Lemnos, but it was not a favored expedient for coastwise travel. Out in the open sea, however, there was little danger of striking rocks or shoals, so the reduced visibility of night was not a great hazard. In addition the moon was nearly full, and the sky was clear of clouds. Eurydice again had that sense of flying, the silvered sail floating above the dark prow, which threw back a silvery spume. And not only the sailing was soothing. Since the men all kept their places, dozing as they could on the rowing benches or the deck near their duty, she did not need to face the shame of Orpheus changing his sleeping place.
With that small comfort she herself found sleep and clung to the safe darkness until shouts of “Land!” and cheers of success woke her soon after dawn the next morning. In fact, when she peered over the rail in the direction Lynkeus was pointing, Eurydice could see nothing, but she was willing to trust the keen-eyed crewman and assumed that by the time she had relieved herself and washed, she would see more. She did, but it was not very exciting, no more than a darker rim near the horizon when she looked again. But now the shadow of land was off the starboard side rather than directly ahead. Apparently Tiphys had turned the ship and they were following the coast, but well out to sea.
The caution surprised Eurydice until she remembered that beyond Kyzikos the settlements along the shore were less likely to be Greek or to trade principally with the Greeks. Jason would have gathered as much information as he could about the area into which they were going. She felt rather relieved at the idea that he would not ask her and be torn between not believing her and thinking she could provide more if she wished. Under this happy misapprehension, Eurydice went forward to get something to eat.
“Oh, there you are,” Jason said, just as she was about to step under the deck. “What do you know about the land ahead?”
“Nothing.” Eurydice shook her head. “It was too far away for traders to come often. As far as I can remember, I heard it is peopled by Bithynians, but that is just a word to me. It does not mean anything special.”
“They do trade? Would it be safe to sail into one of their ports?”
“I have no idea. Aside from the name Bithynian, I do not remember any talk of these lands. Did not those you questioned in Kyzikos have some answers?”
“No straight yeas or nays. Some towns are more friendly than others, but how one is to know which town is which when coming from the sea, I do not know. Can you Find a welcome?”
“You know I cannot. Welcome is feeling, and I cannot Find feeling.”
“Then you have no help for us?”
Eurydice knew quite well that she should shake her head sadly, get her breakfast, and leave Jason to his own efficient devices. She was aware that the faintly contemptuous note in his last question was designed to annoy her and put her on her mettle. She did not like being manipulated nor giving Jason the satisfaction of getting his own way, but she suddenly saw a gate to freedom. To be free. To break the tie that twisted her heart strings every moment—that was worth allowing Jason to think her a fool.
“Only this,” she said. “It is my guess—a guess, meaning I really do not know, not the near-certain ‘belief’ of Finding—that the people in any of these towns are closer in breeding and appearance to us of Thrace than to you of Greece. Thus, I am more likely to go unnoticed than any of you. If we sail past any likely town, you can put me ashore, and I will walk to the town and make inquiries. I doubt anyone will suspect one lone woman of being a danger to the town. I can ask if anyone knows Phrixos, or Salmydessus, or of Colchis.”
Jason smiled at her, but Eurydice thought she caught a cynical gleam in his blue eyes. “If it seems safe,” he said. “I would not put you into danger. Are you not one of us also?”
She made no reply to that and ducked under the deck to find the remains of the cheese and journey bread the men had shared to break their fast. Eurydice stared at the broken pieces of hard bread and ends of cheese without much interest, not because they were scraps, but because her lively appetite had been suddenly quenched by doubt. That cynical question of Jason’s, asked she was certain to remind her of her obligation to the Argo, had struck home. Not that Eurydice recognized any obligation—she had fulfilled her part of the bargain when she gave Jason Phineu
s’ name and city—but she had felt she was part of the crew since the storm that drove them back onto Kyzikos.
It was the first time she had truly felt part of a group. She would miss that and the security of being able to say, I am Eurydice of the Argo. Even as she thought it, her head turned and her eyes fastened on Orpheus, sitting on the edge of the stern deck. There was no particular expression on his face, but his eyes were not seeking her. She turned her back and gathered up what she thought she could eat, mixed some wine and water for herself. Finding a convenient bale, she sat and chewed with grim determination. He did not care. It was definitely time to leave the Argo.
The sun was still rising in the heavens when the ship drew close enough to the shore to see it clearly. At first it was uninviting, high mountains tumbling right down to the sea. After awhile, the mountains drew back from a narrow shore and there were a few places where it would have been possible to beach a ship, but there was no sign of any habitation. They sailed on, as much west as north, seeking either a town or the narrow passage through which they must pass into the Black Sea.
Lynkeus, having watched most of the night, was asleep at midmorning. It was Jason himself who called back to Tiphys that he thought he saw smoke and the steersman should angle in closer. Men shook each other awake and prepared to man the oars. Orpheus stood ready to call the beat if ships lay ready to pursue them. There were no ships at anchor in the shallow bay, nor was there a town built beside the water. However, there was, again, a narrow shore where it was plain from remaining posts and ropes that ships had been drawn ashore, although none lay at rest there now.
From the beach, a sound road, broad enough for two carts to pass, had been cleared, snaking back and forth over a sharp rise to a more level place. There were some moving dots on the road, not from the beach, but nearer the town, coming perhaps from narrower lanes that branched off, likely into valleys hidden by the rising ground. Where the road came into the town, one could make out buildings closely packed around an open square and then more widely placed, spreading out to right and left and also rising into the hillside. A number of the buildings were gleaming white, either built of stone or plastered and whitewashed. That indicated the place was certainly more than a fishing village and that some inhabitants had wealth and importance.
Stone buildings notwithstanding, the town was not very large, which seemed reason enough for the absence of ships. Perhaps only one or two stopped here in a month. Nonetheless, a brief discussion in which Eurydice’s offer was raised brought a quick decision. They would not beach the ship but leave her at anchor in the bay for safety. Meanwhile fifteen men would use the small boat to set Eurydice ashore and examine the beaching area. If Eurydice felt the town seemed a safe place to visit and its people might have information, the Argo could be drawn ashore. If not, Eurydice need only run downhill to the men who would take her back to the ship.
“That is, if you are still willing,” Jason said to Eurydice.
“Yes, certainly,” she said, hoping her words did not sound strange because her lips were so stiff.
The sail was furled and the men rowed farther into the bay. As they came closer to the land, the town disappeared behind the trees that grew on the rise. That did not mean that the ship would be equally invisible. A lookout from the top of a building could almost certainly watch the beach below. The matter was mentioned to remind the men that they should not begin sharpening swords or make other warlike preparation that might give the townsfolk the wrong impression. Still, no one was really worried. A few men in a small boat would not be considered either a threat or a temptation. The townsfolk might ignore them or might send out a group to open negotiations if they desired trade. Meanwhile, Eurydice could slip away from the men and up the road to mingle with whatever other traffic there was.
Whatever coin Eurydice had earned in Kyzikos was tied into her girdle. It was natural for her to wear a good inner tunic and outer gown and a sound, hooded cloak—even a farm girl would wear her finest or near finest to go into the town. She stood for just a moment staring at the folded leather packet that held the red dress Orpheus had bought and then turned away. To carry that with her would cry aloud to everyone that she did not intend to return.
The anchor was let down, and the boat inched out from under the gangway and lowered into the water. Polydeuces scurried down the stern ladder and held the craft steady while his brother handed down short oars to each of the other men chosen for the duty. Eurydice had paid no attention to which men were going. She was on good terms with all and, since she did not intend to rush back for their help, it did not matter anyway. She looked up when Jason approached, expecting further instructions or advice, but his eyes went past her.
“Remember what I told you, Orpheus,” he said.
Eurydice’s mouth opened but no sound came out. There, just behind her, stood Orpheus in a travel-worn cloak with his cithara on his back.
Orpheus nodded easily, “If it is not safe, we will come away at once. The town does not seem large enough to make a long examination worthwhile. Between us, Eurydice and I should be able to winnow it out by midday.”
Eurydice’s mouth opened again to protest that she did not need an escort. This time she could have spoken, but she swallowed back the words. Of course she did not need an escort—she knew it, Jason knew it, Orpheus knew it. She was not being given an escort but a prisoner’s guard. She had known Jason would not wish to let her go, but she had assumed, because he had accepted her suggestion so readily, that he did not suspect she wished to escape. Probably he did not, she admitted, but, being Jason, he would make sure, anyway. What a fool she was! She turned away, without speaking, and went toward the ladder to the boat.
“Good enough,” she heard Jason say as she went down, “I would prefer not to camp here. I am less easy where many men can be called to arms and sneak through the woods than on an uninhabited beach where the worst attack might be a hunting beast.”
Jason’s caution did not seem to be necessary, however. As the small boat came closer to the beach, the men commented that there were no signs of violence or of burning, aside from two or three rings of fire-blackened stone that were clearly hearths. Not that Eurydice cared—she told herself spitefully that she would not have cared if there had been a war party in full panoply waiting for them. She had her own problems, which boiled down to whether or not she should cling to her plans to escape.
Orpheus’ presence unsettled her. It could mean that he did care. She strangled that beautiful notion immediately, knowing it could only entrap her further. But she found herself thinking that it was just as well Jason had decided to set a guard on her. It was foolish to think of leaving the ship in so small a place. Even if Jason would be as willing to abandon her as he had been to abandon Heracles, she would be in trouble in no time. And so what if she was? she asked herself. She could flee, as she had from other towns and villages. But this was not Thrace; she did not know the people here or in what direction to seek for another town. Worse, she did not speak the native language, and even if some here spoke the trade tongue, she would be doubly marked as a stranger. Only excuses, she chided herself, only excuses because she was too weak to do what she knew was right and free herself from Orpheus—Orpheus, the traitor, who was surely coming not to protect her but make sure she was Jason’s slave.
That was the last thought in her mind when the boat ran up on the beach. Polydeuces and Castor leapt from the bow to draw her farther up on the pebbles. Others followed to make her fast, then Orpheus jumped down, turned and raised his arms to lift Eurydice down too. She ground her teeth but allowed him to do it, since she did not wish to expose their estrangement until she was certain it would be impossible to escape. But she did not wait when she saw him stop to speak to Castor; she moved to the nearest edge of the beach and stepped into the trees. Under their shelter, she worked her way over to the road and then started to climb toward the town, but keeping to the trees.
Eurydice was very tempte
d to invoke the look-past-me spell and let Orpheus seek her and then return and tell Jason he had failed to hold her. Unfortunately, she did not dare use magic until she reached the town and determined whether there were other Gifted, whether traps were set for the Gifted, or whether spells were used freely. Before she could begin to think spitefully of simply running off into the woods to hide, she heard Orpheus coming, striding along the middle of the road, whistling as he walked.
All her fury concentrated on the fact that she had so carefully concealed herself with the intention of slipping into town unnoticed while he made all her care useless by boldly tramping up the middle of the road. She stamped out from under the trees and confronted him.
“Idiot!” she exclaimed. “Do you not realize that now everyone will know you are a stranger come from a ship?”
He blinked his large, innocent-looking blue eyes. “Of course I realize it,” he said mildly. “What else could I be, with a minstrel’s garland on my head and a cithara on my back? It is common enough for a minstrel to have taken ship from one town to another. It will not be thought strange if I ask questions—any minstrel would—to see if he would be welcome here. I can even ask about other towns that a trader could take me to when the people here tire of my art.”
Even more furious because she could find no fault at all with what Orpheus planned to use as his cover story—he had even snatched some thin branches from a small-leaved tree and wound them into a garland—Eurydice snapped, “Since you have it all arranged, I do not see why I should go to the town at all.”
Orpheus shrugged, stepped around her, and began walking again. “I do not see why either. That was what I said to Jason, that there was no reason for you to expose yourself to these unknown people. I could manage by myself.”
Eurydice gasped with outrage—slipping into town to ask questions had been her idea—then gasped again as she found herself left behind and had to run a few steps to catch up.
Enchanted Fire Page 21
