The Oracle of Delphi (Greek Myth Fantasy Series) (8 page)

She jumped to her feet and smoothed down her tunic.

“How dare you even suggest I would do something like that - right here. I am a princess, remember. I am not a serving wench you can tumble for your own needs and send on my way in the morning.”

He did not react to her words; just picked up the bread and started chewing in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Of course,” he said, “I realize I am probably assuming too much. Actually, I doubt you even know where the land is that I speak of.”

“I have heard of the place of which you speak,” she said, willing to prove him wrong. “You speak of the land of - ” She’d almost fell for his little tricks, but stopped herself just in time.

“Yes?” he asked, with a fake look of boredom upon his face.

“You slay the sea serpent and I will tell you.”

“You tell me so I can accomplish my mission, and if there is time I might help you.”

She knew it was the best she was going to get from him at that time. But it sounded as if he were breaking down little by little. She would help him now and work on convincing him to turn that “I might” into an “I will” later on.

“All right,” she said. “The land where men eat not of Demeter’s golden grain, but only of acorns is the land of the talking oaks of Dodona - where the Selli live.”

He threw down the bread and got to his feet quickly. “We’ve got no time to waste. How far is it from here?”

“We could make it there on horseback by nightfall.”

She reached out for another grape, but he pulled the blanket away, wrapping the food quickly. He stuffed it into his saddlebag and kicked at the fire to extinguish it.

“Get on your horse, Princess. We’ve got some riding to do. I have no time to waste.”

Suddenly she saw everything quite clearly. He’d only pretended to be interested in her to capture her attention. He knew her attraction to him and he’d used it against her. She had given him the answer he wanted without receiving a commitment from him in return. He had played the game better for now, but once they approached Dodona she would be the winner.

She did not tell him the Selli were people who believed in celebrating everything with an extended feast. The visit of a princess to their village called for the grandest of celebrations and they did not take kindly to anyone refusing their hospitality. Last time she had visited the Selli, they had made sure every one of her wishes was granted. If she mentioned she needed Perseus to slay a sea serpent, then she knew they would see to it he carried the deed through. They were a fierce tribe of people when they wanted to be. And she had no doubt in her mind if Perseus refused to help her again, they would kill him.

She smiled and nodded her head, mounting her horse and following Perseus as he rode away. “Yes,” she agreed. “We had better hurry.”

The sun blinked its last futile rays as Apollo, God of the Sun, raced his chariot across the sky. Perseus watched in admiration, wondering how it felt to be such a renowned god. What he would give to live like them, eating ambrosia and having the world at his command.

He followed Andromeda past a grove of oak trees, into the midst of a little bustling town. Loud, cheery music rang forth as people scurried to and fro with large kettles of food in their hands. A long trestle table was set up in the center of the oaks, and a short, squat man with horns on his head sat at the head chair.

“Princess Andromeda,” he called, rising from his chair.

It was then that Perseus realized the man stood no taller than his own waist. And the man was not a man at all, but a satyr - half man, half goat. He walked forward to greet them, his hairy legs and hooves of his lower body catching Perseus’s attention.

The satyr scowled at him, hands at his hips. “Who is your friend with no manners?” he grumbled.

“It is not polite to stare,” Andromeda whispered to Perseus. “Yrjo has killed for less.”

“I have never seen a satyr before,” Perseus whispered back to her. “But I sincerely doubt he would be able to hurt a fly.”

“Don’t bet on it,” was all she said before dismounting and greeting the goat-man.

Perseus had heard of these creatures before. Dictys never grew tired of telling him tales of the creatures of Greece.

“This is my friend, Perseus,” Andromeda told him, motioning for Perseus to dismount and join them.

He did so, half-heartedly giving the reins of his horse to the people of Dodona who quickly tended to his needs.

“Greetings,” said Perseus, holding out an arm to the satyr.

Yrjo just snorted and turned his attention to Andromeda. “You will join us for the feast,” he said, not asking, just telling.

“Of course we will,” agreed Andromeda with a smile, but Perseus had no intention of staying around this place any longer than needed. He’d find out his answer and be on his way.

“I don’t think we have time for a meal, but thank you just the same.”

The music stopped suddenly. The entire village grew silent as if they had all heard his answer.

“It is not wise to reject our hospitality,” Yrjo told him. “I insist you stay for the meal.”

He was about to disagree, but Andromeda threw him an angered look. He decided a quick meal would be good. She seemed to get testy when her stomach longed for food.

“Bring on the meal!” he exclaimed, trying to sound jovial. The music started back up, and the hustle and bustle of the crowd continued.

Perseus followed Andromeda and Yrjo as they chatted like old friends. He took in his surroundings, keeping one hand on the hilt of his sword as he did not feel entirely comfortable.

Tall, old oak trees towered everywhere, peering down at them as if they were being watched. Small little huts with thatched roofs were interspersed throughout the woods. The only fire burning was that within the main circle of trees. All activities seemed to focus here. The villagers met and lived within this area. Acorns were scattered all over the ground, and Perseus noticed people walking by with huge baskets full of them.

They sat on either side of Yrjo as requested, and the serving wenches brought forth the most delectable of meals. Bread made from ground acorns instead of wheat filled huge platters on the table. The bowls they ate from were made from the tops of giant acorns, and he found himself not surprised as the size of the trees around them were tenfold of any he had seen before.

Wine served in cups made from acorn shells, and a salad of green oak leaves accompanied the bread. He had almost laughed when he saw the leg of mutton a wench laid in his bowl, not able to get the image of Yrjo’s legs out of his mind.

“You are grinning,” snorted Yrjo. “What is it that amuses you?”

“Yes,” added Andromeda, sitting regally tall upon her chair, more the role of princess than he had ever seen. “Do tell.”

The bite of mutton seemed to lodge in his throat as every occupant there watched him. The people of Dodona were an odd sort. While human and not much different looking than himself, they all had a strange green glow to their eyes, making them seem magical. They thought and acted like one, a trait he found severely disturbing. He grabbed the acorn cup of wine to wash it down, wondering what sort of odd place this was.

“I find your hospitality to my liking, that is why I grin,” he answered, knowing it wasn’t wise to displease them.

“Our hospitality is at your command,” Yrjo told them. “I insist you stay the night.”

“No, that’s not necessary.” Perseus didn’t continue, seeing the way everyone stopped to stare at him.

“I am rather tired from my journey,” Andromeda admitted. “We would be happy to stay the night.”

He caught her eye and shook his head slightly. Her eyebrows dipped once, then she replaced her scowl with a smile and turned toward Yrjo.

“Perseus comes seeking an answer,” she told him.

“Really,” said Yrjo, rubbing his short, wiry beard between his fingers. “And what might that be?”

“I seek the knowledge of where to find the Gorgons,” Perseus told him.

“The Gorgons?” the goat-man asked with interest. “And why would you want to know such a thing?”

“He looks for the one called Medusa,” Andromeda added.

“Aye, I know her well,” stated Yrjo. “She once came often to Dodona.”

“I hear she once was a beautiful young woman.” Perseus leaned his elbows on the table as he spoke. “A curse from the gods befell her, if I am not mistaken.”

“’Twas from the goddess of wisdom, Athena, that her curse came,” the satyr explained. “Medusa made love in Athena’s temple to the god of all the sea, Poseidon. When Athena found what they were doing in her temple, she turned Medusa into a Gorgon - the horrid creatures with scales, and snakes making up their hair. And if that was not punishment enough, should Medusa even think to look at a man again, he would turn instantly to stone.”

“How unfortunate,” remarked Perseus taking another mouthful of food. “Now tell me, where can I find her?”

“Why do you wish to find her?” Yrjo studied him curiously.

“I need to bring her head back to King Polydectes in order to save the life of my mother, Danaë.”

“Danaë,” the satyr repeated. “Her story is well known around these parts. You must be the demi-god child of Zeus himself.”

“That I am,” he said, becoming impatient. “Now can you help me or not?”

The satyr looked as if he would agree, until Andromeda thought to interfere.

“If you do not help Perseus, we will understand. After all, he has refused to help me slay the sea serpent which is consuming my village.”

The music stopped once again; the residents of Dodona closed in around him. The satyr stood on his chair, fists on his hips as he met Perseus eye to eye.

“You dare ask for our help when you have refused to help the princess?”

“No. That is not true,” answered Perseus, watching their eyes glowing brighter. “I said if I had time after I had completed my task, I would be happy to help her.”

“
If
,” Andromeda stressed.

It looked as if a fight were about to break out with Perseus as their target.

“You will help her or we will not give you your answer.” The satyr looked even nastier when he was mad.

Perseus shoved back his chair, sending it skidding across the ground where it fell on its side. He drew his sword, but none of the people seemed to fear him.

“I think it is time to go, Princess,” he said, motioning for her to walk around the table. She stayed seated and just watched.

“It is not wise to anger them,” she said. “Just agree to help me and everything will be fine.”

“If this is your idea of a game, I don’t find it amusing at all.”

The residents each picked up a vase, an urn or other piece of crockery. They hit the vessels with their eating knives and the vases all started to hum and sing louder and louder. Hearing the deafening noise, Perseus dropped his sword and covered his ears before he went mad. The noise did not seem to bother Andromeda or any of the others, and Perseus felt as if the sound attack had been directed toward him alone.

“All right,” he shouted, still clasping his hands over his ears. “All right, I’ll slay the sea serpent for her.”

The noise stopped, though the humming continued to reverberate in his ears.

“Excellent,” said Yrjo. “But I must say we need a firmer commitment than just your word.”

The crowd agreed, applauding their approval of his idea.

“My word is solid, I assure you.”

“Do you feel this is true?” Yrjo asked Andromeda.

“Not at all,” she informed them with a smug look upon her face. “I think he agrees to help me only to attain the answer from you he needs. Once we leave here, I’m sure he will no longer keep his word.”

“That is not true,” said Perseus. “I am a man of my word.”

“Then prove it,” Yrjo challenged him. “You show me your loyalty to the princess and tomorrow morning I will give you any answer I can to help you.”

“Yes,” agreed Andromeda. “Prove your loyalty.”

“Fine, I will.” Perseus tired of this conversation and was ready to do any little task Yrjo suggested to prove he would keep his word. “You just name the deed, and I will do it to prove I am a man of my word.”

The satyr looked him in the eye. “Marry her.”

Perseus suddenly felt it all some plot devised by the princess herself. But when he looked over to her, she was as surprised as he, at the satyr’s choice of loyal acts.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Andromeda said, trying to force a giggle. “I’m sure I can trust him to keep his word.”

“That is not what you said a moment ago,” replied the satyr. “I need to know he will keep his word. You are special to the people of Dodona and we will not have you hurt by even a demi-god. If you are married, then he will do all in his power to protect you. If you are his wife, he will see to your needs along with his own.”

The women of Dodona surrounded Andromeda, pulling her to a standing position.

“Get her the clothes of a bride. Strip her of that ugly tunic and bathe her in rose water to prepare her for the wedding.” Yrjo jumped off his chair, hobbling over to Perseus. Though Andromeda struggled, the women pulled her away toward the bathhouse and far away from Perseus.

Perseus bent down to retrieve his sword, but a hoof stepped upon it, stopping him.

“You refuse and she will die,” said Yrjo. “If you really mean to keep your word, you will not put her life at stake.”

Perseus yanked his sword from under the goat-man’s hoof, replacing the weapon in his scabbard.

“If you were a man I’d challenge you to a fight to the death for the game you’re playing. But since my honor prevents me from slaughtering animals needlessly, I guess I will let you live - goat man.”

Yrjo objected to this derogatory remark with a bleating from his throat.

“I don’t like you,” he chortled. “But because the princess has eyes for you, I will let that remark go unpunished. But you had better show me proof of the consummation of your marriage in the morning. If you don’t, I will not give you the answer you seek.”

Perseus followed the path Andromeda had taken to the bathhouse, wishing the secret of the Gorgon’s home was not so well-guarded. Time escaped quickly, and he knew he had no choice but to marry Andromeda if he wanted to return to Seriphus in time to save his mother.

The thought of marriage was not at all unappealing, as Andromeda’s beauty had already enthralled him. But he knew little about her, since she seemed to keep her life a secret. He was not sure they were suited for each other. But one thing he did know; she was not very fond of him. He may be able to adapt to marrying her, but he was not so sure she would ever accept him as her husband.