Thea's Fate, A Loves Of Olympus Novella

by Sasha Summers

  Chapter Two

  The child’s cry echoed in the night, spurring Xenia on. She pushed through the inner door, hurrying across the dark courtyard as Spiridion cried out again. It tore at her heart, to hear the child so pained. They had, all of them, enough of pain and grieving. She would see it all behind them now.

  But Ariston was there, kneeling at the boys’ bedside.

  She stilled, waiting. Ariston’s grief was no less than this boy’s… At times, she feared for him. Even knowing his beloved wife was gone, he seemed a man possessed. His devotion to her niece touched her deeply, but she feared his obsession with Medusa might drive him to act rashly… or to madness.

  Perhaps this broken child and this shell of a once great warrior might find some peace in one another’s company.

  “Hush, boy,” Ariston’s hand rose, hesitated, then stroked the boy’s sweat dampened locks. “Wake up, now.”

  Spiridion sat up quickly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Ariston?”

  “I’m here,” Ariston’s voice was strong. “As are you. Safe in the Lady Xenia’s house.”

  Xenia smiled sadly. It was true, they were safe, if far from happy.

  “A memory…” Spiridion pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in his hands. “No…a dream.”

  “A dream cannot hurt you,” Ariston sat back, watching the boy. To Xenia, Ariston looked too tired, too weary. It was as if his very soul was fatigued. Ariston continued, “Even one none too pleasant. Or so it would seem.”

  “’Twas not all bad. But the end… it’s always the same,” Spiridion’s voice dropped low, a whisper. “There’s more…” he murmured, peaking at Ariston from beneath a fall of thick black hair. “I feel as if someone… something is watching me.”

  “Something?” Ariston’s voice was low. “Watching you? What dreams haunt you?”

  Spiridion’s eyes swept the room, bracing himself.

  Xenia felt the air grow taut with unease… She could not flee now, she had no choice. She stepped into the room, offering a reassuring smile. “’Tis only me. What dreams indeed, Spiridion? What can I do to ease you? It’s a fine night, I think. Too fine for such fretful events.”

  Ariston stood, glancing at her, then at the boy. “If you’ve a cure for nightmares, Xenia, then you are in great demand. For Spiridion and-” He fell silent, catching whatever admission before it was spilled into the night. “The boy is riddled with them.”

  Xenia felt the weight of his words. She knew Spiridion was not the only one suffering from tortured dreams. “Nightmares?” She sat in Ariston’s place, taking the boy’s hands in hers. “In my fine home? Surrounded by thick, high walls? In the very heart of a new Athens, filled with new protectors?”

  Spiridion swallowed, staring at her with huge brown eyes. “It has naught to do with your home, my lady… Of that you may be certain.”

  “What troubles you then?” She tilted her head. “Sometimes, speaking a thing out loud will ease you.”

  Was it a trick or did the boy’s eyes seem to widen? In fear, perhaps? “I can…not.”

  Silence filled the room again.

  “Not tonight, then,” she murmured, patting the hand she held. “But if something weighs upon you as heavily this does, telling another might lighten your burden. Know that I would help you carry it.”

  She was aware of Ariston then, the way he shifted from foot to foot.

  “I dare say Ariston would as well. And he has very strong and broad shoulders,” she offered, attempting to lighten their moods. “You are not alone, know that.”

  Spiridion’s eyes stared intently upon their joined hands. He took three deep breaths, something she’d seen Medusa do when she was grappling with her emotions. It plucked at her heart to see the boy do it now.

  “I am tired,” the boy managed.

  She reigned in her memories, the power of her emotions. This boy needed her now. Her tears could wait. She squeezed his hand, smiling. “You should be. The moon is high and bright.”

  An owl hooted, catching their attention.

  “See, there, Spiridion, you have a lullaby,” Xenia smiled.

  “I’ve heard it before,” Spiridion spoke softly. “When Kore cries, I hear it.”

  “Owls are wise,” Xenia offered. “If it sings for your sister, it must know she needs soothing.”

  Spiridion nodded, opened his mouth, then closing it.

  Xenia waited but the boy was careful to keep his words guarded. “I’ve heard that owls are the best companions.”

  “Have you?” Ariston asked.

  Xenia glanced at the warrior at her side.

  “They are,” Ariston went on, “the most loyal of all companions. If one has chosen Kore, she will never be alone.”

  She could not smile, not when she knew he spoke of Medusa and Thea. Theirs was a steadfast love. She must be sorely tired, to let her heart grow so heavy. She cleared her throat, turning back to the boy. “Sleep now. Find peaceful dreams, with Kore’s owl, perhaps. Sleep is the only occupation for such a time.” She watched him lie back, looking far too awake but offering not disagreement. He was a good child, obliging and careful, if a bit too thoughtful for one so young. She smoothed the linen sheen sheet over his slight body.

  “Will you sleep?” Ariston asked the boy.

  Spiridion nodded, closing his eyes. “I shall try,” his voice wavered.

  Ariston cast a hesitant glance her way, the simple act a request for privacy. Xenia left, lingering outside the boys’ room to wait for Ariston.

  “Spiridion,” Ariston’s voice was low, “if you have need of me, simply call. My room is there,”-Xenia could imagine him pointing the way- “across the courtyard from your own.”

  “It is neither wise nor brave of me to be ruled by my fears,” the boy answered.

  “We are mortals,” Ariston’s words were measured. “Wisdom and bravery fail even the strongest amongst us. Never let it rule you, but learn from it and cherish the lessons you glean. Do you understand?”

  “I think… I do,” the boys murmured.

  “Sleep now.” Ariston added, “Perhaps Kore’s owl will visit you and soothe you with a lullaby as well.”

  Xenia heard no answer, instead Ariston joined her, pulling the latticed door around but leaving it ajar. He glanced at Xenia and she nodded her agreement. They moved on, speaking only when they’d crossed the courtyard.

  “He’s not had a peaceful night since arriving.” Xenia sighed.

  “He’s too young to have witnessed so much.”

  She could hardly argue. Spiridion had seen the horror the Persians left behind, lost his parents, his home. But there was more. “Perhaps. But… It’s as if he… he fears being discovered. As if he has some secret that troubles him. There are times he looks as if he has something of great import to share. But, then, he presses his lips shut, grows pensive, thoughtful.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “What secrets could a boy his age have?”

  “Secrets? Or memories… Memories too painful to remember, too troubling to forget?” His gaze met hers, for but a moment. “We’re both of us familiar with that. Would it be wise to revisit them?” He paused. “The boy needs time, Xenia, not words?”

  “Perhaps,” she relented. Ariston glanced at her, his was such a haunted expression that she stumbled to a stop. Her lungs ached as she pulled in air, readying herself for what she must say next. “But there are words that should be spoken, Ariston-”

  He bit out, “Do not, Xenia.”

  “She would not want you to carry on so,” her throat tightened, all but choking her.

  Ariston’s eyes closed, his lips tightened.

  “You are no better than that boy. I hear you, you know. He is not the only one that cries out in the night,” she reached up, stroking the young man’s face.

  He flinched, moving from beneath her touch. “I’d not meant to disrupt your sleep-”

  “You misunderstand me.” She sighed. “I’m too old to ne
ed much sleep, Ariston. But it saddens me to see you so. You are a great man. You’ve a sharp mind. A strong arm… you were one of Athena’s favored.”

  His eyes raged when he looked at her, the muscles in his cheeks bulging.

  Xenia shook her head. “She would want you to seek happiness. She would implore you to do so, as I do now. To see you, your anger and pain, would wound Medusa-”

  “Do not. Do not speak of her so,” the words were hissed. He turned from her, moving quickly to the doors. “I bid you good-night.”

  Xenia winced as the heavy wooden front door slammed shut.

  It was quiet then, soothing. She turned, her eyes tracing the comforting lines of the fountain, the vines that climbed up and over the courtyard walls, and the stone statues that stood throughout the small herb garden. She had never thought to return here, her childhood home. But the Persians, what had happened at to her beloved husband and his home, ensured she could never return there. Or she, too, would be haunted by memories best left forgotten.

  She shivered, pulling her chlamys around her shoulders.

  An owl hooted, hoarse and rough. She glanced up, searching through the branches of her olive tree for the bird. She’d not heard such a call since Medusa… left. But her niece’s beloved owl had delivered word that Spiridion and Kore would be arriving and gone. A blessing since the creature had no love for any soul save Medusa’s. Yet she wondered what had happened to Medusa’s precious pet. Had she returned to Athena on Olympus? Medusa would want her to have a new mistress to love her…

  Medusa.

  Ariston’s words conjured the disturbing images that had nearly driven her mad. Almost… Elpis, Medusa’s attendant and beloved friend, had helped her make sense of it, over time. A truth was more haunting than anything her scattered memories could create. Was she really dead, as the Gorgons professed? Ariston had seen her grave… Xenia shivered, pulling her chlamys tightly about her shoulders.

  There was naught she could for Medusa now, save honor her memory and care for those she loved. Nay, love them as Medusa would want them loved.

  The owl hooted again, closer now.

  “Thea” she called out, hesitant.

  Medusa had esteemed the animal more than most humans. If this was Thea, the animals care had fallen to her now. If this was Medusa’s Thea.

  Her voice was stronger, “Thea? Are you there?”

  The owl hooted again, drawing Xenia’s attention up into the tree limbs. Time passed as she circled the tree, her eyes narrowed in her hunt, searching each branch but finding nothing.

  Indeed, even the sweet hoot and coo had ceased.

  She turned to her chambers and her bed, disappointment upon her. The sight that greeted her gave her pause. There, standing as still as one of the many garden statues, was Ariston. He was staring, searching, the tree, the courtyard. An air of … desperation about him.

  “Ariston?” she asked softly.

  He blinked, looking dazed. “I’d no cause for such rudeness Xenia. I sought to forgiveness for my temper.”

  She smiled. “There’s naught to forgive. But I thank you for the concern. I would have your forgiveness too… I’d not meant to cause you pain by speaking of her, but not to do so... Her memory is precious to me.” She paused, adding. “I worry over you, as is my duty. She was a daughter to me. And now, you are my son.”

  Ariston’s face softened. “You are stronger than I.”

  She shook her head, stunned by such a statement.

  “You’ve lost both your husband and daughter. I’ve only lost my… wife.” She saw the muscle in his jaw clench before he continued, “I admit, there is a restlessness I cannot overcome. If the boy calms well enough, I will leave with the next full moon-”

  Her throat grew tight, but she’d known he would go. “Will you go home?”

  He swallowed. “Perhaps… In time.”

  She worried over him, left alone with the ghosts that haunted him. “Have you spoken with your father?”

  He nodded. “I feared news of my death would reach him. I sent a missive to allay such fears. And mentioned Spiridion and Kore. Elpis and Ektor have you, their children will inherit. It seems fitting that Spiridion and Kore are cared for. I have claimed them my heirs and, as such, they will inherit my oikos when they’re of age to travel to Rhodes.”

  Xenia made no pains to hide her shock. “You may yet have children of your own-”

  His grey eyes captured hers then. “No.”

  “Ariston-”

  But the owl called out again and they both stilled.

  Xenia saw the look of longing on his face, the way Ariston’s grey eyes narrowed, once more searching the tree. “I bid you good night, then,” she murmured.