Enchanted Fire

by Roberta Gellis

  At least, Castor put in soothingly, she would not need to Heal any other men. There had been no battle, although there might well have been if Polydeuces had fought Amycus in the marketplace, where the king’s henchmen might have called on the populace to help them. In the palace, there were only Amycus’ household guard of twenty and the few “noblemen,” who had survived their boxing matches with him and impressed him with their skill. The attention of Amycus’ men had been fixed on the fight; by the time they realized that Amycus was getting the worst of it, they were somewhat intimidated by the phalanx in which Castor had formed up his men. And after a final blow had stretched the king unconscious, it was too late. Polydeuces stood over Amycus and Castor and his men rushed forward to surround the king and make him a hostage for his men’s civil behavior.

  Soon after that Jason had arrived and any chance of Amycus’ men trying to overwhelm the Greeks was gone. Nonetheless, Jason had to wait until Amycus regained his senses before they could get Orpheus released, and then there was some bargaining for sureties. Jason took Amycus’ two sons as hostage in their father’s stead to ensure they would not be attacked on their way back. The sons were actually helpful. When they learned that Jason desired to know the way to Salmydessus, they found a merchant who had made many trips there and he gave them clear directions. The difficult part, the merchant warned them, was finding the passage into the great sea. Once through that, one need only turn north along the shore. Salmydessus was the first large city to which they would come.

  While Castor explained what had happened, Eurydice, eyes closed to concentrate, soothed away Polydeuces’ bruises and induced two cracked ribs to mend. She was aware of someone looming over her, but she ignored the presence because she believed it to be Castor. When her Healing was done and Polydeuces was lying relaxed in a light sleep, she opened her eyes and rose, intending to tell Castor to let his brother doze as long as possible. As she turned, she froze, her heart jumping in her breast as she came face to face with Orpheus. Movement to her right had to be Castor kneeling down beside Polydeuces, but she was barely conscious of him. Her eyes were fixed on Orpheus.

  “Are you hurt?” she cried. “I had no sense of pain other than Polydeuces’.”

  “Not hurt at all.” He glanced at the sleeping man, put out his hand, and drew her away from where Polydeuces lay with Castor sitting beside him. When they were half hidden by the trees, he said, “It was your doing that Amycus became hungry and thirsty, was it not?”

  “Yes, of course.” She hardly knew what she said, her attention fixed on her Healer’s sense flowing into the hand she still held. She found no physical pain, but a profound disquiet that made Orpheus’ heartbeat slow and heavy. She squeezed his hand. “You were shocked by that monster. I am so sorry that I could not free you at once. It was horrible what he threatened—horrible—but I did not have the right magic—

  “Eurydice—” He raised his other hand to her cheek. “You saved my life, even though it was not in your interest to do so.”

  “Not in my interest?” Eurydice echoed.

  “You told me you wanted to be free of us, and the city was safe for women. You could have turned your back—”

  “And let that monster mutilate you?”

  He shrugged. “Did you not say any risk would be worth it to be free of me. You would have been free—”

  “Oh, you are an idiot!” Eurydice jerked her hand loose from his. “What did you expect me to say when you came to ask me to marry you as if you were going to a hanging—and left after I refused you almost skipping with joy, as if I had freed you from a fate worse than death.”

  Orpheus’ mouth and eyes opened wide. “That is not true,” he got out, once he had regained control of his jaw. “If I came slowly, it was because I was afraid. I thought you would laugh at me.”

  “I, laugh at you? I am homeless, nearly penniless, a passenger by sufferance on Jason’s ship. You are of such value to him that Jason is ready to put his whole ship and crew at risk to save you. Are you making fun of me?”

  “No!” He stared wordlessly for a moment and then went on with a puzzled frown. “Perhaps the words you say are true, but they have no meaning to me. You are a wonder to me, a woman who does not need a man, who can live her own life, go her own way—which you nearly did in Kyzikos. Why should you tie yourself to any man, much less to me?”

  Eurydice smiled. “For love, Orpheus. I told you once before that a free and independent woman can choose a man for love and will be bonded more firmly than any bond that need can make.” She sighed and shook her head. “But what you said cannot be the truth. You looked no happier after you saw that I did not think your offer laughable.”

  “It was the truth, but when you spoke of your life in Greece, you made me think. Then I was troubled. I knew I would have to change my ways, that I would no longer be free as I had been in the past to roam and sing where I liked. Yes, it was a burden on my mind, but I wanted you anyway. You were more important to me than that freedom. In the name of all the gods, why should I beg you to be my wife and come home with me if I did not wish to be tied to you for life? You had offered to be my lover already.”

  Eurydice recognized that the reason Orpheus had offered for his proposal made more sense than what she had thought, but she shrugged. “I do not know, but other reasons could be found. Perhaps you wished to bind me to the Argo and Jason’s purposes. You have risked your life in battle to satisfy your oath to him—”

  “I am no idiot, but you are!” Orpheus exclaimed, laughing. “Fighting as a member of the crew of the Argo comes under the oath I have given to Jason. Marriage does not. Marriage would last far beyond the voyage, and I have sworn my faith only until Jason obtains the Golden Fleece. After that, I am free.” He grinned, but in the next moment grew serious. “But I do not wish to be free of you, ever.”

  “Then why did you not try to make me change my mind? I refused marriage—but not you. Do you not remember I said you would be welcome to me any time?”

  “I remembered it well enough, but you also said you would tell me when you had decided. Did you wish me to importune you?”

  “Yes,” Eurydice replied snappishly. “Does not every woman?”

  Orpheus stared at her. “How would I know? I am not a woman. And one does not importune a Greek woman one wishes to marry; one speaks to her father or her brother.”

  “Holy Goddess,” Eurydice said in a small voice, “are you a virgin? I must tell you at once that I am not.”

  “No I am not a virgin,” Orpheus said, looking down his nose. “And it is no affair of yours with whom I gained my experience. As to you, I guessed you were no innocent maiden, but you had already told me you did not ply the trade of whore—and I have seen your behavior among the men. It is not that of a whore. You are too bold, but never provocative. Well, not never. There was that time in the tent…”

  “That was offered to you, in private.” She looked up at him, raised a hand to touch his cheek, stroke his neck. “What I feel for you, I feel for no other. I swear, I will offer what I offer you to no other while we are together. I will even marry you, gladly, but here in the east where the Gifted are sometimes made scapegoats, sometimes driven out, but rarely burned or mutilated, or bound and sacrificed to Hades.”

  “But—” Orpheus had begun when Jason bellowed for Eurydice.

  Their glances locked for a moment, then Eurydice turned to walk across the beach to Jason, Orpheus following. Both knew there was not time enough to finish their discussion and, indeed, that if they spoke further they would end up quarreling again.

  While Eurydice had healed Polydeuces and talked to Orpheus, Jason had sent one boatload of men back to the Argo. “Will you be able to tell whether a party of armed men is forming in the town?” he asked her. He explained that when the boat returned for the second group, he had to decide whether to come near overloading it for one more trip or keep some men behind to make a third, more comfortable, passage. “But time is passing a
nd the longer we are here the more likely an attack on us.”

  “Even though you hold Amycus’ sons?” Orpheus asked.

  Jason shrugged. “Do you know how dear they are to that madman? He sent them off with us without much argument, without even asking for assurances that I would not take them away with me. Is it possible that he does not believe I would kill them? In any case, it is better to be wary than sorry.”

  “I think I could,” Eurydice replied slowly. “I have never done such a thing before. When I Find, it is usually an object or a person, but I think I could Find a group of armed men.”

  “You do not seem very sure,” Jason said, his mouth again pursed as if against a sour taste.

  I am not sure.” Eurydice’s exasperation showed in her voice. “I do not promise what I am not certain I can perform.”

  It was not a statement with which Jason could argue, but the wry twist of his mouth persisted. Eurydice said no more, partly because she did not trust her voice to conceal her amusement. Every time she displayed less power than he desired, Jason looked as if he had bitten into unripened fruit, but that was all to the good as far as she was concerned.

  “How is Polydeuces?” he asked then.

  “Perfectly well.” Mischievously, Eurydice could not help further demeaning her ability by adding, “But my Healing was hardly needed. All I have done was make him more comfortable in a shorter time.”

  “Well, it is a benefit that you can do that,” Jason said. His body was already half turned toward the sea, and his eyes had already left her and were on the boat coming toward the shore. The waiting men ran to pull it in, and Jason shifted his attention to Orpheus. “You and Polydeuces go with this group, Orpheus. I want to have Amycus’ opponent and his escaped victim out of his reach, if he sends men after us.”

  “He will not care about me,” Orpheus said. “He called me a nothing. I would rather stay with Eurydice.”

  “I will make sure Eurydice is safe,” Jason replied firmly. “Go tell Castor to wake Polydeuces.”

  Like many of Jason’s cautious measures, this one turned out to be unnecessary, but no one complained because disaster could have followed carelessness. Eurydice never felt any grouping of swords or javelins or shields in the town. Farther away, probably at the palace, she was aware of a kind of swirling around of weapons, but even there, they never seemed to form together into the kind of tight pattern she imagined would be made by marching men. Whether she had sensed the movements of the men correctly, she would never know. No group came down the road to trouble them before the boat returned for its third load of passengers. When all were aboard, Jason thanked the hostages and told them they were free to return to their father. Eurydice thought both boys looked more disappointed than relieved.

  Orpheus was at the ladder when Eurydice came aboard the Argo. He drew her toward her usual sheltered seat and said, “I love you. I cannot bear to be apart from you. If you will not give me the assurance that will set my heart at rest, I must take my chance on what the future will bring.”

  “Orpheus—” Eurydice began softly, not knowing what she would say, only wanting to give him comfort.

  “Orpheus!” Jason bellowed.

  His head jerked up. The men were all seated, their oars poised. Eurydice realized that the first group to come aboard must have pulled up the sea anchor. Orpheus rushed to his place on the stern decking, beginning one of the many rowing songs. On the chorus, the oars dipped into the water and the ship began to move.

  When they were around the headland and the sail had been raised, Eurydice came with her mending to sit beside Orpheus on the stern deck. She had had time to think and was extremely grateful to Jason for the interruption. It was almost certainly true that Orpheus did wish to marry her. She had been a fool to think that he would make such an offer to achieve some purpose of Jason’s—but that did not change the fact that had made her suspicious in the first place. Orpheus was extremely clever and quite good at manipulating people. Well, forewarned was forearmed. She was not stupid herself.

  She smiled at him before looking down at her mending and saying, “Do not look so troubled, love. We have plenty of time before we need to decide whether to part. I have told you already that I look forward to being importuned. It will be days before we reach Salmydessus and perhaps weeks or months before we reach Colchis. You will have all that time to make me change my mind.” And, she added silently, I will have all that time to change yours.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Actually Eurydice’s guess that it would take them “days to find Salmydessus” was barely correct. They came to the city much sooner than anyone expected. Despite the merchant’s warning of the difficulties they might have, they discovered the passage into the great sea that very evening. The westering sun showed what seemed to be a deep, narrow bay, but Ankaios felt the water to flow differently into that bay, as if there were no barrier of land beyond. Lynkeus was sure he could see the glint of sunlight on water far past where so narrow a bay should end. The wind was right, blowing from the west, so Tiphys tilted the steering oar and the ship turned into the mouth of the opening.

  Every man was at his oar except the two who would furl the sail at the first hint of the passage narrowing or being blocked. Lynkeus and Jason leaned forward intensely scanning the passage on each side of the tall, curved prow with its great, bright eyes. Ankaios alternately closed his eyes to feel the ship’s movement and stared down into the water that flowed past the hull. On they sailed and on, Tiphys nervously scanning right to left, left to right, to judge the width of the passage ahead. Indeed, everyone was watching the walls of land to right and left, ready to call a warning if those walls seemed to be closing in. The sun fell lower and lower.

  Tiphys began to mutter under his breath about pulling in closer to one shore or the other and dropping anchor before it grew dark, but he did not call out that suggestion to Jason. From the color of the sky, all knew the sun was still up, although the walls of the passage through which they sailed blocked its beams. Still, it was light enough to see well. The men now added their power at the oars to the power of the wind in the sail. The ship surged forward, but the passage went on unchanged. And then, just as the whole sky behind them lit up in a gorgeous curtain of red and gold, the walls to north and south fell away and before them was an ocean of dark, dark water.

  “Port!” Jason shouted.

  Tiphys called an acknowledgement, although he did not shift the steering oar until they were far enough out from the unknown shore to avoid any danger from hidden rocks. Every eye now strained toward the land seeking the hint of a safe place to beach the ship, but all soon acknowledged that finding a suitable cove would be impossible. The western shore was deep in shadow and the strange, dark seawater reflected little light.

  As long as they could see well enough to mark the change in color of the water caused by shallows and the white spume that betrayed the presence of rocks, they sailed slowly north under a half-furled sail. When Jason felt he and Lynkeus would not be able to discern the presence of such dangers any longer, they dropped the sea anchor. Torches were lit, and in their uncertain glare, Eurydice and two of the younger sailors prepared a cold dinner, set it up on the gangway, and let the crew, who were all milling around in high spirits, serve themselves. Polydeuces’ victory over Amycus, the rescue of Orpheus, and the successful navigation of the Thracicus passage into the black sea all contributed to the men’s euphoria. Nonetheless, all complained—most jocularly—about the food.

  To Eurydice, the sticks of dried meat, cheese, bread, dried fruit, and watered wine were more savoury than the nectar and ambrosia said to be food of the gods. For one thing, she was starving. She had barely been able to choke down her breakfast that day and had missed the noon meal entirely. For another, everything was spiced to perfection by the way Orpheus smiled at her and followed her with his eyes. When she had gathered up her own dinner, and he had taken his, they sat together in the corner of the stern deck that they
had made their own, leaning toward each other just enough to touch now and again. From time to time, Eurydice popped bits of cheese flavored with thin slivers of dried meat into his mouth.

  “Stop that,” he said, after he had chewed and swallowed the third bit.

  “Why?” She smiled at him. “You seemed to be enjoying it.” On the last bite offered, he had caught the very tips of her fingers with his lips and tickled them with his tongue.

  “I am,” he replied, “but later I will feel quite differently. Love play is most delightful when it ends in making love. When it ends in sleeping too close in the presence of too many men who have not had a woman to lie within the last few days, it ends in great discomfort.”

  “I am sure we could—” Eurydice began, then shook her head and sighed.

  She had been about to tease Orpheus about his lack of enterprise and suggest that they could find a place among the stores under the deck, but she realized that the very last thing she wanted was to make love to Orpheus for the first time under those conditions.

  “You are quite right, dear heart,” she went on with a rueful chuckle. “We have waited so long already that a few hours more are endurable, but I do hope we will find a suitable landing place tomorrow.”

  Oddly enough acknowledging their forced abstinence did not increase their frustration. The declaration of intent gave each a kind of comfort and made it possible for them to spend the evening in an exchange of nonsensual tenderness. Smiling and excusing himself from her invitation to importune her, Orpheus spoke of his home, describing the neat village and the kind people in more detail. Eurydice listened, half longing for a warm settled life among those she could trust and half knowing that, wife of Orpheus or not, she would still be a foreign witch, still be the first to be blamed for any misfortune, and the first to be made scapegoat when one was needed. But she did not argue with him—there would be time enough for that, time to show him that a home could be anywhere the beloved lived. She would hold on to this happiness while she had it, and she slept soundly, safe in his arms all night.