“Do not forget her other purpose. Once she became aware of the kind of determination Jason has and the adventures he has already accomplished, she would want him and realize that he could not be diverted. To keep him away from the serpent, she would have to kill him. Perhaps she enticed him originally for that purpose, but I am quite certain she no longer intends that. She is looking for a consort—a man to take her father’s place, a man she could control more easily.”
“You have contradicted yourself, Eurydice,” Orpheus said. “First, you said she would recognize Jason’s strong will and then that she wants a man easy to control.”
“The contradiction is not as much as you think. Her father fears and distrusts Medea and would examine ten times and, out of suspicion, oppose anything she suggested. Jason would love and trust her and be inclined to accept her ideas. She would know when he objected to something that it was a thing he thought unwise, not simply a desire to spite her.”
“True, but why should Jason accept a state of consort when he can be king in his own right if he brings the golden fleece back to Yolcos?”
“But does Medea know that?” Eurydice’s lips twisted. “Would he not let her believe anything she wished—until he had the fleece?”
“He might, indeed.” Orpheus frowned. “He would not lie to her, but he would not stop her from lying to herself.”
“No, doubtless he would encourage it by comparing the simple way of life in Yolcos to the glories and luxuries of Colchis. It would not be hard for her to believe that the rich life topped by her own beauty and skill abed would easily convince him to abandon his land for hers.”
Orpheus snorted gently. “A man is not so easily led about by his rod.”
“How well I know that!” Eurydice remarked bitterly and turned her back on her lover, quite out of patience with him.
Eurydice had no intention any longer of staying in Colchis. In fact, she had confessed to herself that had been as much self-delusion as Medea’s estimate of Jason. The only way she could have remained was to leave the ship the moment they came ashore and have nothing more to do with Orpheus or any other crew member. Once she had come to the palace with Jason, she was irrevocably tied to his purpose of retrieving the golden fleece. Thus, whether Jason succeeded or failed, Colchis would not be safe for her.
She had even confessed as much to Orpheus, who had been delighted and said he had known she would soon see reason. She cried out that it was not reason enough to take her to a land where they sacrificed their Gifted, that there were many safe places, good places where he could grow rich as a bard and she as a Finder and Healer, places like Salmydessus and Kyzikos, but he only shook his head and smiled and said that she would be safe in his village. He looked a trifle concerned when he spoke, but she could tell that was more for her fear than for any fear that she would not come with him. He was so sure a woman could be pulled hither and thither by her heart strings, but a man could not be led by his shaft.
As events fell out, however, Orpheus was quite correct. Jason could not be led around by his rod. Mopsus, who knew where Orpheus and Eurydice were lodging, came to the inn very early in the morning to tell them that Aietes had returned late the last night.
“I think those bulls do breathe fire,” he said, his voice trembling. “I do not think they are…living animals.”
“How do you know?”
“Have you seen them?”
Orpheus and Eurydice spoke simultaneously and Mopsus answered both questions at once. “I have heard them. The whole palace can hear their bellowing—and it is the sound of brass trumpets, not of a living throat.”
“Automata,” Eurydice breathed. “I do not like this.”
“What the devil are automata?” Orpheus asked.
“They are made things, made of brass or of wood, which are bespelled to behave as if they lived. But if the bellowing sounds are like a brass trumpet, possibly the bulls are made of brass and really can breathe fire.” She looked up, meeting Orpheus’ and Mopsus’ eyes in turn. “I did not know a man could do such sorcery. I thought only the gods…”
“We must do something,” Mopsus cried.
“Yes,” Orpheus agreed. “I think what we must do is go to the ship, explain what we believe to the crew, and lie in wait for him there. He will have to listen to us, then. There will be no escape to Medea’s chambers.”
“What if he does not come?”
Orpheus paused, frowning, then said, “He will come. He must. I do not know how long harnessing the bulls will take, but plowing a field and getting the soldiers to kill each other must take at least a full day. He must come, even if only to warn the men that he will be absent for a day or two.”
Orpheus was again correct. In fact, Jason arrived at the ship so early that Mopsus had barely finished explaining his purpose to Ankaios, who was in charge of the watch, and asking him to send word to the crewmen who were ashore to return.
“Yes, indeed,” Jason said, as his head came over the top of the ladder. “I was about to ask you to do just that, Ankaios.” He grinned around at the group of ‘conspirators’. “I have been your captain for over two years. Why did you suddenly judge me to be an idiot?”
“From looking at Medea,” Mopsus said.
“There was that little hiatus in our journey at Lemnos,” Orpheus added dryly.
Jason cast him an angry glance, but shrugged. “I am too close to my goal now to allow a woman, even one as surpassingly beautiful and clever as Medea, to turn me from it. I told you that I intended to make her believe I was totally enslaved—and then I discovered that she knew what we had said to each other.”
“We learned that too, although later than you did,” Orpheus said. “But you came to the ship every day. Why did you not warn us or—”
“Because she could pick your knowledge out of your mind as well as out of mine. I did not think she would bother after the first few days, but why should I take the chance?”
“Why are you taking it now?” Orpheus countered.
Jason laughed aloud and turned around to show a small sack strapped to his back. “Because I have the ointment she prepared, and she can no longer withhold it from me—although to tell the truth, I do not think she would allow me to be hurt now for any cause.”
“Jason,” Mopsus said tensely, “that fire will not be an illusion. No amount of belief in a magic salve will cool it. Eurydice says the bulls must be automata—”
“Yes.” Jason nodded, his expression now grim. “Medea told me last night. They were another gift to one of Aietes’ ancestors from the god Hephaestus. They are brass and they breathe real fire.”
“And you still believe the salve will be effective?” Mopsus asked.
The grimness in Jason’s face eased a little. “Yes. Yes I do believe it. She loves me—I am sure of that—and if she were going to let the bulls kill me, why should she spend so much time speaking of the soldiers, of the dragon’s teeth, and of how to tease the serpent into opening its mouth so I can cast in the potion. Aside from making sure I could say the words of control perfectly, absolutely perfectly, she dismissed the bulls. Being machines, they obey without any whimsy or distraction from flies and such.”
“Could she have spent time on the other trials and on drugging the serpent to distract you from the danger posed by the bulls?” Eurydice asked.
“Trust a woman to think the worst of another woman.” Jason shrugged. “It is possible. But tell me, in all your asking and searching, has any of you discovered a hint as to where we should look for the golden fleece if I cannot complete the trials and force Aietes to show it to me?” He looked around and saw the answer in their faces. “Very well, then the likelihood of finding it on our own is vanishingly small. I have no choice but to trust Medea in this.”
“But if your faith is at fault, you will be dead! Horribly dead. Is it worth it?” Orpheus asked.
Puzzlement, a faint contempt for a boy from a small village who had no great dreams, and a fierce determin
ation flicked across Jason’s face. “Yes,” he said, smiling slightly, “it is worth the chance. If I can bring back the golden fleece, it will be a tale told forever. I will be as immortal as the gods.” He drew a deep breath and grinned. “But I am not so carried away by dreams that I cannot take some precautions. I can compare the words Aietes shouts at the bulls with those Medea taught me. If they differ, perhaps I will call off the trial on the grounds that Aietes lied to me by implying the bulls were living creatures with whom I knew how to deal.”
Mopsus’ eyes lit. “That is very clever.” He nodded. “Yes, if the words are right, then she expected you to live long enough to use them.” Then he looked worried again. “But a salve, a thin layer of grease and herbs, to stand between you and real fire…”
“There is no proof, even if the bulls are automata, that the fire will be real,” Eurydice said. “To build and maintain a real fire in the bellies of the bulls would be far more difficult a feat than to cast an illusion of fire.”
“Well said!”
Jason was pleased and nodded at Eurydice, but for the first time, she noticed, there was not the smallest acquisitive gleam in his eye. Now that he had Medea, who, he believed, was a far more powerful witch and who probably was far more physically appealing to him than she, he was no longer interested in her. Eurydice was delighted but wished she was sure that he would remain uninterested if Medea was stronger minded than she and refused to leave her own land to accompany him.
In the background, she heard a babble of voices, but the notion that had flitted so easily across her mind now returned with a force that wiped out the meaning of the words she heard. Had she read the intention of bringing Medea back to Greece in Jason? She had not been trying to read him. Nonetheless, she was quite certain that Jason did intend to carry Medea back to Yolcos with him. Only Medea was equally determined to keep Jason in Colchis. Eurydice shuddered.
“No, no,” Jason said, and laughed. “I never knew you were so tenderhearted toward me, Eurydice.”
She had no idea to what he thought she had responded with a shudder, but the talk could not have wandered away from the trials he must endure, and she said coolly, “Orpheus cares about you, and what hurts him, hurts me. Besides foolishness is foolishness.”
The generalities covered her lack of attention and Jason laughed again. “Well, I will not be foolish, which I would have told all of you sooner if you had held back all your well-meant advice. I do not intend to face an army, real or illusion, alone. That was no part of my agreement with Aietes. On the other hand, I do not want him to use that as an excuse to refuse to take me to the golden fleece, so you, Mopsus, will bring the crew along—except for ten, chosen by lot, who will stay with the ship—through the wooded area that runs along the northern road. That is where I must drive the bulls, and Aietes will accompany me to take the creatures back into his control if I falter, and to hold them while I deal with the soldiers of the teeth.”
“And will you go from there to the river where the golden fleece lies?” Ankaios asked.
“No, that will end my labor for the day. On the next day, Aietes will drive the bulls to the fleece and see how I deal with the serpent—but he told me no more than that. I hope I will be able to come again to make plans, but it is possible there will be ceremonies or some other function that will keep me away. Lynkeus must watch the palace. If he sees us—Aietes, Medea, and me—going somewhere together, Mopsus should take half the crew and try to follow.”
“The bulls I cannot charm,” Orpheus said, “but the serpent is a living thing. I will come with you, Jason. I cannot think Aietes will object to your having one companion.”
Eurydice choked back her protest. She had finally learned that arguing with Orpheus when that light came into his eyes was futile. He would kiss her and comfort her, laugh at her for fearing for him, grow angry and sullen if she persisted, but never change his mind. He did love her; she knew that. She could feel it in him whenever he looked at her, or spoke to her, or touched her. He would gladly go her way and yield his own notion of pleasure to hers when they were at leisure, spend his last copper piece to buy whatever trinket she desired, defend her to the death from any danger. However, when her wishes came into conflict with his duty or his eagerness for adventure or his love of home, he simply assumed her will would give way to his. Well, why not, she thought bitterly. So far it had.
She would have argued anyway, fear for him being a stronger force than experience and good sense, except that she had already foreseen what would happen. She had known Orpheus would go with Jason ever since he first offered to try to charm the bulls, so she had been planning what to do. Besides talking to the priestesses at the temple, she had prayed to her Lady for strength—and that she had received. She was a full vessel of Power and would even dare challenge Medea if Orpheus’ well-being were at stake. She hoped it would not come to that, but the touch of the Lady had given her confidence enough not to waste words pleading a cause she could not win.
She had another string for her bow, too. Virtually certain now that her spells were as invisible to those of Colchis as theirs were to her, Eurydice intended to go with Orpheus and protect him, wearing the look-past-me spell. She knew he would be truly furious if she interfered, but had decided she would rather have a furious lover, even one so angry he deserted her, than a dead one, who could never change his mind about anything.
Once the decision was made, Eurydice had worked out and prepared a spell that she was almost certain would stun the serpent. Of course, it would also stun everyone else in the area, but that did not matter if she could get Orpheus out of harm’s way. Thinking of that now, she had to stifle a giggle. Perhaps with everyone except her and the bulls—the spell would not affect them—lying unconscious, she could even get the golden fleece. She could imagine Jason’s reaction to that! But it really would be wise to learn, if she could, the words to manage the bulls while Jason dealt with them. She hoped being wrapped in the look-past-me spell would not garble the magic words.
It was a question that would never be answered because Eurydice had no need to use the look-past-me spell at the trial of the bull’s harnessing. Nor had there been any need for Jason to bid Mopsus to bring the men in secret along the road. When Jason returned to the palace, accompanied by Orpheus, Eurydice, and Mopsus, the guard at the gate told him that Aietes was awaiting him in his private audience chamber, and another stepped up to lead the way. To their surprise, far from objecting to Jason’s having visited his ship, Aietes urged him to invite his men to watch the trial of harnessing the bulls and plowing the field for sowing the dragon’s teeth. However, he was less willing to grant him the one companion to confront the serpent.
“If you kill it, well and good,” he said. “You will take the fleece away. And if you do not, you will be dead and unable to betray where lies the golden fleece. A companion watching from a distance might escape, and the secrecy we have so long maintained will be broached.”
However when Orpheus explained why he wished to accompany Jason, an odd sort of pain showed on Aietes’ face. He desired equally desperately that the serpent die and to retain the golden fleece, Eurydice guessed. First he shook his head, but before long his determination began to waver.
“If you can help Jason kill the creature…” he mused, then asked, “You will need to be close to do that?”
Orpheus nodded. The king hesitated a moment longer and then also nodded.
“Very well,” he said, looking at Jason. “Orpheus may accompany you.” He turned to Orpheus. “You understand, do you not, that if Jason fails to kill the serpent, it will destroy you as well as him.”
Eurydice drew in her breath sharply, but Orpheus nodded once again, smiling slowly. “I understand.”
Chapter Nineteen
The brazen trumpeting, roaring almost, made Eurydice leap from her bed and run to the window of the palace where she and Orpheus had slept that night. By common consent, they had nothing private they wished to say to
each other. Both knew that any private words would almost certainly erupt into a violent argument—and they could make love in their chamber in the palace more privately and freely than in the thin-walled inn. The window did not overlook the place into which the bulls had apparently been released, but the sound of their bellowing permeated the whole palace.
She and Orpheus barely splashed water on themselves in a sketchy pretense of washing and threw on the nearest garments they could find. Ordinarily, both had the habit of dressing with some care for both needed to please clients, but no one would be looking at them on this day. In the central chamber, they saw Jason, naked as the day he was born, with Mopsus opening the jars Jason had been carrying the previous day. Eurydice looked at the salve within.
“Wait,” she cried. “Is the salve complete? Are you sure Medea herself should not apply it?”
“Yes,” Jason said. “She gave me the jars and said she would not expect to see me until tomorrow morning when she will bring me the potion for the serpent.”
A ball of ice formed in Eurydice’s midsection. Gave him the salve she knew would not work and abandoned him to die in the fiery breath of the bulls? Had she been wrong entirely? Had those glances that passed between father and daughter been those of tight knit allies rather than rivals on the border of hatred? But she dared not betray even the smallest shred of doubt, for she believed that Jason’s conviction the salve would protect him was half its effectiveness.
“Good,” she said. “Then it is not dependent on some spell that must be applied at the last moment and is likely to fail too soon.”
“No.” Jason smiled. “The ointment is good for however long it is on the skin. If I did not have to wash or change my clothing, I might be eternally fireproof. But it will last until the end of the day, except for my hands.” He frowned. “I do not see how to prevent the salve from wearing off my hands.”
“Smear some gloves with it, inside and out,” Eurydice said quickly. “Then if you must take them off, say for buckling on harness, your hands will be covered with the salve from the inside. And if you must leave them off, you can resalve your hands any time by handling the gloves.”
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