Medusa, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) (8 page)

When Medusa laughed, warmth spread throughout his entire being.

All the while he felt Medusa’s every move and sound. He was attuned to her, anticipating her reactions. How he would love to know her thoughts.

As Elpis continued, he shifted, reaching for a slice of lamb.

He felt her gaze upon him, and turned to meet it. But she stared upon his body, his chest, and then the length of his arm. She blinked, turning her attention upon his face. She explored each feature, focused yet hesitant, as her eyes fell to his lips, then the rapid pulse in his throat. She blinked again, glancing at his face once more.

His chest was tight and heavy, yet his gaze met hers. He could not help the heat that coursed through him as she flushed in obvious confusion. His jaw clenched, as did his body, as he fought for control. And still she did not look away.

He took what she offered, letting his eyes travel slowly over her face as she had him. He traced the line of her brow and the sweep of her lashes. Her cheeks were high and her lips… He drew in a deep breath, returning her openly curious stare.

Her breath hitched and she swallowed. In the slim column of her neck her pulse was visible. It raced, in time with his. Pleasure flowed through him, sweet and pure, as he smiled at her.

She blinked, turning to the sea, giving him time to slow the racing of his own heart. 

“What think you, mistress?” Elpis asked.

Medusa did not respond. Had she not heard the question? It had barely reached him.

Elpis glanced at him, then at Medusa. He saw the fear on their companion’s face and felt the gravity of it settle heavy and hard in his stomach. His fear had little to do with the punishment he might endure for loving Medusa. He would never act upon it, for she would suffer too. No, his fear was born from the knowledge that – for the first time in his life – something mattered more to him than duty and honor. And he was willing to do anything to keep her safe.

Chapter Four

“A letter for you, girl.” Uncle Galenus handed the folded parchment to Medusa and watched her expectantly.

“I believe it’s from your father.” Aunt Xenia smiled at her, attempting comfort.

Medusa scanned the bold script, recognizing it. “So it is.” While she would have preferred to pour over the missive in the quiet of her room, she knew her adopted aunt and uncle were waiting most anxiously.

Her eyes were burning by the letter’s end.

“Well?” Uncle Galenus thundered, his brow descending low onto his forehead.

She handed him the letter. “It is as you anticipated, Uncle. Father is angered, greatly, by Athena’s interference.”

“Phorcys is angry? With Athena?” Aunt Xenia was astonished, clasping a hand over her bosom. “He must see reason.”

“He will carry on as he wishes – as is his way. But even a Sea Titan bows to the will of the Gods.” Uncle Galenus studied the note.

“What grounds does he have for his anger?” Xenia persisted.

“He insists I’ve repaid his debt to the Goddess,” Medusa explained. “And he has need of me at home.” She moved towards Xenia, smiling at the woman she’d thought of as her mother for most of her life. She placed a hand on the older woman’s arm, squeezing gently. “But all will be set right, Aunt. I have faith in Athena.”

“Phorcys is an ass, petulant and careless.” Uncle Galenus regarded Medusa before skimming the note again. He scowled. “He thinks only of himself.”

“What did he say? What has upset you so?” Xenia’s hands fluttered at the note, her lips pinched tight as she waited.

“Phorcys now argues that Athena is abusing the girl… That Athena is keeping his child from him out of spite.” Galenus’ face turned an alarming shade of red as he blustered, “And that is what he will present when next he speaks to Poseidon. Or Zeus, so he claims.”

“What?” Xenia cried, her face blanching.

“He is determined to have Medusa home.” Galenus slapped the letter emphatically.

“Why?” Xenia asked.

Medusa swallowed. Why indeed. If her father had declared he was missing her she could not have been more surprised.

“To marry,” Galenus grumbled.

“Surely Phorcys is not willing to challenge Athena over marriage? Medusa is young yet, there is no need to force such an event.” Xenia blinked back tears as she regarded them both.

“If he would have her marry, she will. But not when Athena says otherwise. Is there some reason he forces this now? And who does he woo for his daughter? Who is worthy of her?”

“Someone of great import, certainly. Phorcys is nothing if not ambitious. The suitor himself may be unaware… Or may not yet exist.” He shook his head. “But the matter has become less about Medusa and more about this perceived challenge by Athena. A challenge he cannot win.”

“My uncle is wise, sweet Aunt. I am of little use to my father here. Some scheme has availed itself to him that makes him have need of me now.” Medusa attempted nonchalance, to mask her dread. Her father was scheming, and she would be the one to pay the price for it. She had since she was a child.

First she’d been given as a servant, to repay her father’s debt. He had come upon Galenus’ ship long ago, when Galenus was more warrior than politician, and almost sunk the vessel. If not for Galenus’ booming voice and determined manner, Phorcys may not have paused to learn the truth. Galenus had been on a mission for Athens, a mission for Athena. Galenus had threatened Phorcys boldly, for he had done no wrong and deserved no torment. And Phorcys knew this too. Knowing the Olympians’ temper, Phorcys devised a bargain. As Galenus and Xenia had no living children, he’d offered up Medusa in reparation for the ship’s damage and delay – and Athena would never know of it. Galenus had happily accepted.

Several years later Phorcys had caused a storm upon Athens, washing away the new foundation for Athena’s temple. Athena had been greatly displeased. Quick to make amends, Phorcys offered Medusa to Athena as an arrephoroi. Athena had agreed, honoring the eleven-year-old while ensuring Phorcys’ transgressions settled.

In the years she’d served as Athena’s priestess and Galenus’ servant she’d found comfort and peace. That Galenus and Xenia loved her dearly was a blessing, that she loved Athena a gift. 

“Whatever he’s thinking, child, I fear you will bear the brunt of it.” Galenus regarded her with true sympathy.

Medusa felt the prick of tears in her eyes, but smiled at him. “It will be bearable. He may be strong-willed and, on occasion, self-important, but he’s not without heart, I think.”

Galenus snorted, shaking his head.

Xenia took a deep breath. “He is foiled, for now. We must not think on it, child. Anestheria is soon upon us and there are preparations to be made.”

Medusa watched her aunt, quick to dismiss any unpleasantness. It wasn’t that Xenia cared little. She cared a great deal. So much so that even the threat of harm towards Medusa quite unnerved her. Medusa was her only child. The five she’d birthed had not lived long on this earth, a devastating loss for any woman. She prayed that whatever drama her father had begun would not be too much for her sweet aunt.

“It is a glorious eve. Take Elpis and find some night-blooming jasmine for me?” Xenia smiled, cupping Medusa’s cheek with a soft hand.

Medusa nodded and went to find Elpis. Her companion was lighting the lamps in Medusa’s chamber.

“You have news?” Elpis took Medusa’s hands in her own.

Medusa smiled. “I have, a bit. Athena has rejected his plea, for now. And my father cannot abide it. He is determined to get his way.”

Elpis’ eyebrow arched. “Phorcys will yield, in time, mistress.”

Medusa wanted to believe Elpis and her aunt, but she knew better. Her father was rarely distracted when his mind was set. Perhaps he had changed. Perhaps he would accept Athena’s decree in time. She dearly hoped so.

As she and Elpis found cloaks and baskets for the jasmine, her heart lightened.

Ariston would accompany them.

The shell necklace she’d threaded and braided lay in the jewelry box on her table. Her fingers traced the smooth curve of the white shells, remembering the warmth of the sun and the merriment in his eyes. It had been a glorious day. She’d wanted to give him some token of appreciation. That he would have something from her to keep with him pleased her greatly.

But such a gift was unacceptable. He was doing his duty to Athena. After all, the shells had been meant for Athena.

She placed the necklace back in the box on her desk and pushed the box away. She must stop this nonsense. She must. Whatever had passed between them…

“Ready?” Elpis asked.

Anticipation tightened her stomach as she headed towards the gate. But it was old Nikolaos who greeted them at the gate with distressing news.

“It’s too late to wander far, mistress. I’m not so young as your guard,” the older man rasped. “Suppose that’s why he was called this eve to fight the Persians, while I stay with the women and goats.” His laughter was creaky, bursting from his chest in short wheezing breaths.

Coldness seep into her bones. He had left – to war.

“He’s gone?” Elpis asked.

“All soldiers have been summoned to prepare the city for invasion, the runner told me. The Persians bring their black ships ever closer, bobbing about to stir panic. Worry not, Ariston and his soldiers have gone to make sure Athens will be ready.” Nikolaos continued, “It would be a good time be young – to feel the call of the blade and the glory of battle.”

Elpis took Medusa’s hand in hers, saying nothing.

Medusa heard bits and pieces of what the old man said. “The Persians are unforgiving warriors, they say...”

Ariston
. She stopped the dread that crept into her heart. He would not thank her for it. He was a soldier. Fear was a sign of doubt. If she feared for him, it meant she doubted his skills and prowess.

She did not doubt him.

“Master Themistocles’ ships are ready, though,” he continued. “The Persians have seen nothing like Athens’ Ekdromoi. When they sail out to greet them—”

“Will the Ekdromoi sail with the rest of the hoplites?” Elpis asked.

Nikolaos nodded. “They’ll lead Athens’ ships…”

Mighty Ares, hear my prayer. A warrior goes to battle, to lead Athens’ men. Fill him with your spirit, guide his sword with your strength, and see him victorious for you… Let him stand and defend Athens another day.
Over and over she prayed, halfheartedly collecting sprigs of jasmine. Her stomach roiled as Nikolaos carried on, excited that the siege might finally be underway.

Elpis, bless her, set to work collecting more than enough for Xenia. Medusa followed, too dazed to do little more than nod occasionally. She’d known this would happen – but she’d hoped it might be resolved without him.

The moon seemed uncommonly cold as they finished. Elpis offered to take the jasmine to Xenia, pressing a good-night kiss on Medusa’s head. Medusa smiled her thanks and hurried inside, seeking the privacy of her chamber.

Thea greeted her with a coo and she smiled slightly in answer.

Her eyes wandered to her jewelry box and the necklace inside. Would he have worn it if she’d given it to him? Would it please him to have it? How she wished…

The owl hooted plaintively, seeking Medusa’s attention.

“Thea.” Medusa felt tears spilling onto her cheeks. “He’s gone. He might be sent to sea, to danger. I may… He may never return to us, little one.” Her voice wavered as more tears flowed. Her heart twisted, flooding her with such pain.

Thea hooted softly, clicking and bobbing in agitation.

Medusa stroked the owl with a trembling hand. “I’m sorry. I’ve no case for tears. It’s shameful of me. He is a soldier, gone to do what he is trained to do.” Her voice faded.

Thea was silent, her yellow gaze riveted upon Medusa.

She turned from her owl and knelt by the window. Her whispered prayers were for peace and Athens’ safety…and the safety of the soldiers who would defend them all.

###

A fortnight had passed since Ariston was called to duty.

Medusa was thankful for Anestheria. Without the many festival preparations, she’d have nothing to distract her. She felt his absence nonetheless.

A temple guard had little chance for glory while serving Athena’s priestess, she knew that. And glory was a soldier’s greatest reward. She hoped he would find it, and come back to her.

His absence, coupled with the constant correspondence from her parents, plucked at the edges of her patience. Yet she prayed, knowing the Gods would hear her and champion her as they saw fit. Her faith was strong.

Anestheria came upon the city and surrounding countryside with noise, drink, and people. As Athens filled with revelers, Medusa watched from the safety and distance of the temple. She would stay at the temple through the festivities. Anestheria was not one of Athena’s celebrations. The three-day festival celebrated Dionysus, The Lord of the Vine in this, the Festival of the Vine Flowers. And while reason and wisdom had little to do with drink, Athena received numerous offerings and tributes just the same.

On this, the first day, Pithoigia, spirits were high. On Pithoigia, jugs of new wine were opened and shared between servants and their masters. All was done in leisurely fashion, encouraging camaraderie.

On the morrow, drinking the wine became sport. Drunken crowds grew unruly and the festivities less restrained. Every maiden in Athens was locked away or carefully guarded. Innocence, a revered virtue, might be stolen by those lost to the drink.

Medusa lit her lamp and knelt to arrange Athena’s gifts so that more could be added in the morning. Athena was certain to be pleased.

Her arms trembled as she hefted a large basket of apples. She’d felt weakness more than once recently, but she had no appetite and sleep would not find her. She ran a shaky hand over her face, thankful she was kneeling as dizziness swept through her.

“Mistress,” Elpis said softly.

Medusa attempted a smile. “I’m fine,” she reassured her companion. “Help me up?”

Elpis rushed to her side, slipping her arm around Medusa for support.