“The same king who misused sweet Chara. A beast of a man,” Aphrodite said.
Poseidon watched his brother closely, curious.
“He has long since forgotten his offerings to us,” Apollo said. “He has claimed that Seriphos suffers poor harvests and famine.”
“He would have better harvests if he remembered to honor the Harvest,” Demeter affirmed.
“He claims Seriphos is unable to offer tribute?” Athena stared at Zeus in surprise. “But demands his people offer him horses?”
“Why have we done nothing to punish this man, then?” Ares asked.
“Why indeed?” Hera agreed.
Poseidon enjoyed watching his brother at work. Truly, Zeus was a master at such games. Whatever his intent this time, his brother was taking pains to ensure Olympus would rally behind him.
“There was no one fit to take his place, wife,” Zeus’ words were layered, spoken with care.
Hera’s lips pursed, but she said nothing.
“What does he want? Why is Polydectes calling for such tributes?” Hermes asked, his young face inquisitive as he searched the faces of his fellow Gods.
“He’s offered marriage to Hippodameia,” Zeus continued.
“He would use the vows of marriage to gain his fortune?” Hera asked.
“Is that not why mortals marry?” Ares argued.
“It is,” Hermes agreed.
“But not at the cost of their kingdom,” Athena said. “Seriphos’ people cannot manage such tributes without leading to their ruination. He is a fool.”
Poseidon had heard his brother’s answer and knew there was more to it. “You said there was no one to take his place, to rule Seriphos. There is now?” Poseidon asked.
“Mayhap Apollo has found one,” Zeus suggested softly.
Poseidon’s gaze narrowed, noting Zeus’s posture. He can scarce contain his excitement.
Apollo nodded. “While the king has been quick to silence those who would question his demands, one has dared to speak out against Polydectes. He has great courage, a certain charm that the people admire. His name is Perseus.”
Aphrodite turned to Poseidon, a brilliant smile upon her triumphant face. He covered his mouth, catching his laughter quickly.
“Perseus?” Hera asked without rancor.
So Hera did not know who this Perseus was. She would have been quick to react if she had. It was apparent that Zeus had no intention of telling her Perseus was his son. Not just yet, anyway.
Poseidon bit back a grin, catching Aphrodite’s gaze once more. She, too, was waiting expectantly.
“Perseus told Polydectes it would be smarter to expect Medusa’s head than a horse as he was better able to take her head than find a horse. He is without property, adopted son of Dyktes, a simple fisherman.” Apollo finished, clearly amused.
Poseidon shook his head. The boy must be Zeus’ son, to have such rash overconfidence.
“What was Polydectes response to Perseus impudence?” Ares asked, greatly amused.
“Polydectes accepted his offer.” Zeus said.
Silence fell upon the Council Chamber.
Poseidon froze. No…this was not what had been decided.
Would Hera intercede again? Mayhap Aphrodite would champion Medusa’s plight, as she was greatly fascinated with the husband, Ariston. That she’d turned herself into an old man to gauge the man’s devotion boggled Poseidon. What had it accomplished? Nothing save more dissatisfaction with the cretin she was sadly wed to. He supposed he might seek out other husbands if saddled with one as dreadful and morose as hers.
As the silence held, his stomach clenched.
“What of the promise you gave Medusa?” Poseidon asked Hera.
Would no one honor their word to this woman? His eyes traveled about the chamber and knew none would defend Medusa. Why did it trouble him?
“The children will be kept safe,” Hera answered. “Medusa has made peace with her life. She has some happiness knowing her man lives.”
“Tis past time for Polydectes to meet Hades’ judges,” Apollo said.
“What of her test? Did she not do everything you asked of her? Has she not proven herself loyal to us all still?” Poseidon’s voice was flat, his anger barely under check.
Would they all forget her now?
“She has proven useful, yes. But I am not so sentimental as you think. She cannot be spared if it means others, all of Seriphos, will suffer under tyranny, Poseidon.” Hera shook her head.
“It is a great sadness…” Aphrodite said, her lovely face somber.
“Her husband?” Poseidon asked.
“Brother,” Zeus smiled his most lascivious smile. “He is a man, after all. He will find solace soon enough.”
“She wants death, she said as much to Hera,” Athena said. “And with her death comes freedom to those she’s turned.”
Ares snorted, amused. “The Persians broke some, the Gorgons more still. I fear Medusa’s death will release no one as the Gorgons have sent them on to Hades’ realm. Once their statue is broken, they cannot be freed?” he asked. When Athena nodded, he continued, “Oh, to have an army made up of the likes of them. What a fearsome regiment they would lead.”
“We must assist Perseus, I think,” Hera mused. “Athena, Hermes, you must help this young man defeat Medusa. He must put this Polydectes in his place.”
Poseidon sat back, unsettled by the twinge of guilt that twisted his gut.
“You are displeased?” Aphrodite asked, her huge blue eyes warm upon him.
“What, me? Why would I care what happens to the girl and her besotted husband?”
“And yet you do, I think.” Aphrodite smiled slightly. “Is this not a sort of justice for her? For them both? There is some sort of freedom in death.”
Poseidon shook his head, his mocking words meant for her ears alone. “This has naught to do with justice. Zeus seeks to gain Hera’s favor for his bastard. A quest, a noble quest to be sure, might aid my brother in this.”
Aphrodite’s eyes never wavered. “Do you care for her?”
Poseidon swallowed, considering his words. He had no answer.
“I know too well the sting of unrequited love.” Aphrodite smiled brightly. “There is little help for it. Medusa will fall, it is Zeus’ will. You need distraction, I think… Under this night’s full moon, I will send one of my eager Nereids to you. Find some solace in her arms; your heart will heal in time.” The Goddess studied him at length, her glistening blue eyes and plump red lips tempting him greatly. “I must admit, Poseidon, finding you’ve a heart at all is a pleasing surprise to me.”
“Is it?” His chest tightened as his lust rose. “If this nymph does not please me, I may yet visit with you to see what other pleasures you might bestow upon me.”
He smiled at the instant flush of her skin, the subtle tremor of her chest as she drew in breath. He had no doubt that he would visit her very soon, but he would enjoy this Nereid first.
###
In the time Ariston had spent searching, Athens had rallied. Gone were the smoldering remains, harried citizens and falling temple on the Acropolis. Its walls had yet to be completed, more than half of its homes still needed repairs, yet its people seemed focused, full of hope and determination.
The docks were no exception. Finding a ship for Stheno and Euryale had been an easy task. And they were eager to return to their parents, to share the news of Medusa and grieve together.
“Listen to Xenia,” Stheno said to Spiridion, her tone soft and coaxing.
“In the years Medusa lived with her, the lady showed her only love,” Euryale continued. “Make her love you, boy, and little Kore.”
“She will miss you.” The tell-tale quiver in Spiridion’s voice was unmistakable. “Kore, I mean. She will miss you.”
“She’d better,” Euryale teased.
“But you will be too busy in your new life, child, to linger on memories best forgotten,” Stheno chided. “Let all that has happened
fade. Your life, a good one to be sure, begins again this day.”
Ariston listened quietly, waiting to help them from the wagon he’d found on their way. One horse amongst five people did little good. And since most of the villages were deserted or destroyed, taking their horses was hardly stealing. His actions saved them from starving in their untended pastures and stalls. Finding the wagon had been a greater blessing still.
Euryale took his hand, stepping down from the wagon with care. “If any harm comes to the boy or the babe, I will find Xenia and—”
“No harm will come upon them,” Ariston assured her. “They will have a home, food, and love. What more does a child need?”
“I know your heart is heavy at leaving them, sister, but it is the only way,” Stheno said as she joined Euryale on the dock.
“Shall we stay and wave you off?” Spiridion asked from the wagon.
Euryale shook her head quickly. “No.”
“On your way, boy. Serve Xenia well, serve the Gods,” Stheno added.
Ariston studied them, their long dark veils covering their faces. “I thank you for the care you gave Medusa. I would repay you…”
Stheno moved forward. “She was our sister, Ariston. And we loved her too.”
Euryale said nothing.
Ariston nodded, then climbed into the wagon. He said nothing more as he urged the wagon forward.
Spiridion climbed up onto the seat beside him, leaving the sleeping baby carefully arranged upon mats in the wagon bed.
“Will they like us, Ariston?” Spiridion asked.
“I know little of Xenia, except what my lady told me.” He took a deep breath. “Lady Xenia chose to love her as a daughter, even though she was a slave. Xenia’s heart, I think, will welcome you and Kore. Her husband was lost during the invasion. I imagine she is lonely.”
“Stheno told me,” Spiridion said.
Ariston nodded, feeling sympathy for the woman.
“She must miss him. As you miss Medusa.” The boy’s words were soft. “I loved your wife, too, Ariston. She was so beautiful, even with the scars. But she was so sad. Was she missing you?”
Ariston could think of nothing to say. That she’d been sad, that her injuries had scarred her, and yet this boy had offered her love when she needed it most – he could say nothing. He smiled at the boy, thankful he’d found her.
“I think Euryale will miss Kore the most,” the boy continued.
“Why is that?”
“Kore would cry,” Spiridion explained. “And since Medusa could not hold her, she begged Euryale to comfort her. Medusa pleaded and wept until Euryale picked Kore up. As soon as Euryale held Kore, she stopped crying. Kore made Euryale forget to be fearsome.” He paused. “I think Medusa knew that and wanted her sister to have joy.”
“She was a wise and loving lady.” Ariston felt the lump in his throat.
“She is…was.” Spiridion stuttered, then mumbled, “She was.”
They fell into silence as they navigated the newly packed streets. Some stopped and watched with interest, others waved or nodded in general greeting.
He felt trapped, the rising walls of the houses sealing him inside. He missed the open roads and blooming hillsides. He missed the open air and the view of the sea, its blue-green depths sparkling in the sun.
He missed a great deal.
At the gates to Xenia’s home, Ariston left the wagon and horses with Xenia’s servant and led Spiridion through the gates. The boy hefted his sleeping sister with ease, refusing to relinquish her in this time of uncertainty.
Ariston watched him, admiring the boy silently.
“Ariston, you are most welcome,” Elpis greeted him with a warm smile.
“How fares the Lady Xenia?” Ariston asked.
“Recovered.” Elpis stood aside. “And happy, I think. She has had quite a time making plans for the children’s arrival. No sooner had Thea delivered your note than she set to work on making room for them.”
Ariston was pleased that Xenia was improved. He glanced at the boy, who was staring wide-eyed about the courtyard. Ariston followed the boy’s gaze.
While in the heart of Athens proper, the home and gardens were shielded from the city’s gaze by the tall courtyard walls. Time had fractured the walls plaster, and blooms of violet and honeysuckle colored the air and filled it with their sweet scents.
It was a different kind of home than the one this boy had known in the hills. But it would be a good home, one that would never want.
“These are the children you sent word of?” Elpis smiled down at them. “What a handsome boy you are.”
Spiridion stared at her, shifting his sleeping sister with ease.
“Spiridion, this is Elpis – Medusa’s dearest friend,” Ariston said, hoping to comfort the child. Though he’d not known Spiridion long, he knew the boy must be overwhelmed with the changes taking place.
So much heartache for one so young, Ariston thought. To lose his parents to the Persians was enough. He had no knowledge if the boy had been present when the attack happened. He prayed the child had not been.
But then the boy had found solace with the Gorgons and Medusa. Stheno had told Ariston the whole, how Medusa had played and teased and smiled at last, when she’d found this boy and his baby sister. Losing Medusa to fever had upset the boy so he refused to speak of it.
And then, the Gorgons had bid farewell to them at the docks.
“You are not alone here, Spiridion. And you will grow, strong and tall, within these Walls,” Ariston attempted to comfort the child.
“You must be very brave,” Elpis said. “My husband is eager to meet the boy who can care for an infant and befriend Gorgons.”
“Euryale and Stheno were good to me, mistress. They showed nothing but kindness to me and my sister. I shall miss them, even if they weren’t as lovely to look upon as you …or Medusa.” Spiridion spoke quickly.
“I’ve never seen a maid as lovely as my mistress,” Elpis agreed.
She was beauty. Ariston nodded.
Her laughing eyes and joyful laugh warmed his dreams and made waking the nightmare. Each day the weight of his loss grew heavier.
In the weeks they’d traveled back to Athens, hearing her name had become no easier. Speaking of her…
“Handsome or not, I thank the Gorgons for keeping you safe.” Elpis knelt before him. “This is little Kore? She is sweet.”
Spiridion looked at his sleeping sister. “She is asleep now. You may find her otherwise when she wakes.”
Ariston smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair with affection before looking at Elpis. “And here is your fine husband, or so I was told at the docks? Happy news indeed, Ektor. Spiridion, this is Ektor. He will foster you, teach you how to be a capable Greek and Athenian – if you wish it?”
Ektor clasped arms with Ariston, his youthful face no less open and pleasing than before the wars.
Ariston wondered at it. Was it only his world that had changed so greatly, while all else seemed to be as it should?
“I will be a healer,” Spiridion said, “like Medusa.”
Elpis took his hand, casting a questioning glance at Ariston. “Would you? It would seem you are quite capable at caring for others.”
Ariston and Ektor watched Elpis lead the children into the house, her sweet voice praising and encouraging as they went.
“You married well.” Ariston smiled at Ektor.
Ektor nodded. “Xenia has been most generous to us. If she had not asked us to stay with her, I’d have nothing to offer Elpis’ father. As it is, this home, this property, will be mine – Xenia declares it will be so.”
“She is a compassionate woman,” Ariston said.
“Will you stay with us, Ariston?” Ektor implored. “Athens is in need of leaders. People follow you.”
Ariston could not meet the younger man’s eyes. “I’m in no mind for leading. But I would rest awhile, if you will have me?”
He had delivered the children.
“You are always welcome,” Ektor nodded, though Ariston saw the concern that crossed his young friend’s face.
Chapter Fifteen
The boat bobbed at the end of the dock, rising and falling with the gentle rhythm of the waves beneath. The water was darker here, at the edge of Greece and its borders, but it beckoned to Medusa all the same. And it gave her, in some small way, pleasure.
She sat on the dock, dangling her feet in the warmth of the water. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, her memories filling her. Somehow her memories no longer pained her, knowing he lived. With endless days before her, she sought him out more and more – each memory revisited aplenty.
She remembered the day he’d come to Galenus’ house fresh from the training field, his shirt darkened with sweat and his arm bleeding from a wound he’d sustained. Why he’d been sent to them so quickly, where her old guard had gone, were mysteries she’d never lingered on.
She’d stood, covered in her veils, beside her scowling uncle as Galenus read the note.
“Well, soldier,” Galenus had sounded most aggrieved, “you’ve been ordered to reside here, under my basileus, by Athena’s order. You are to serve as the priestess’ guard, and accompany her to and from the temple daily.”
“Yes, sir,” he’d said, barely glancing her way.
But his tone had caught her attention. He was not pleased to be there, nor any more pleased by his assignment than her uncle. And for some reason, she’d found his barely repressed irritation heartbreaking – and comforting. She knew what it was to chafe against one’s lot in life, and she ached for him.
She had known even then, in some small way, this man would change her.
She sighed, the salty air burning her throat and dragging her from her thoughts. The sea view that greeted her offered little to appreciate.
A crumbling temple, the only remains of the island that lay mostly below the water’s surface, was her home. It was a small island, set far off the northern coast of Crete, beyond the range of travelers. Only those lost would find this place.
Or those sent by the Gods.
There had been several. Aloeus of Thrace, Phocus of Aegina, Molus and Tityus of Delphi, and more – more than twenty slate grey statues littered the mouth of her cave. Hera had seen fit to send her a guard. The creature, said to be the son of Cerberus, Hades’ hound, had arrived with her sisters. A gift from Hera, they told her.
Medusa, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) Page 26
