Medusa, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) (17 page)

“Patience, brother,” Zeus had cautioned.

Poseidon turned his gaze towards the cabin. The lovers were inside, no doubt wrapped about one another.

No. To die in a lover’s arms was no punishment at all. They were not worth his time or his thoughts.

Poseidon moved deeper into the sea. It would do to find some way to lessen the fire that consumed him, but only fleeting. For while he might lessen this painful hunger briefly, his appetite for Medusa would not be dampened for long.

###

“Teach me,” she kissed him, laughing when the net had slipped from his fingers so he might pull her against him. “I’m hungry,” she teased, pulling away from him and retrieving the floating net.

He sighed, taking the nets from her and pulling her against him again. He kissed her until her knees trembled. Only then did he set her away from him, smiling triumphantly. “Watch me.”

She watched him gather in his nets closely, then cast it wide. He was a patient tutor, and she wanted to learn everything he would teach her.

“Now pull it in quickly,” he said, moving forward to help her draw in the net.

“Like this?” Medusa stood, her skirts tucked up and her hair braided from her face. She lifted the net, preparing to cast it into the rising tide.

She glanced his way, waiting for his answer. He was smiling, a smile that almost made her lose her grip on the net. But she did not want to disappoint him, so she clung to the net’s edge and waited. When he nodded, she let the net fly into the deeper waters.

“A good cast, my lady.” How his praise warmed her.

They worked together, catching their dinner. She lost the net once and he tossed her into the water, diving after her. They swam together, laughing, until they reached one another.

His hands cupped her cheek, his lips found hers and fishing was forgotten. Her limbs grew heavy, desire and fatigue warring within her. He swam, setting her upon the rocks with care.

“The net,” he murmured with a smile, swimming after it.

She sat, catching her breath, watching the raw power of his back and shoulders. A warrior’s body, his strength was tireless. He grasped the net and dove deep.

When he resurfaced, there was a smile on his dripping face. He shook his head wildly, dousing her with water and causing her to shriek. Still smiling, he pulled himself onto the rock beside her and handed her an oyster shell.

She looked at him, wiping the water from her eyes. “What’s this?”

He shrugged. “A gift.”

Medusa opened the shell, smiling in pleasure at the gift inside. A finely carved owl hung from a leather thread. Medusa stared at the necklace, then at her husband.

“It’s lovely,” she whispered. “Is it Thea?”

She would treasure his gift. Though he’d given her so much in the brief time they’d shared.

His smile dimmed Apollo’s sun. “I know she watches over you, my lady. As I watch over you.”

She couldn’t help returning his smile. “When will we go home, Ariston?”

“Home?”

“To Rhodes? Once you leave on Athens’ triremes—”

He shook his head. “I shall not. They’ve little need of me.”

Medusa took his hand in both of hers, gazing up at him with solemn eyes. While his declaration thrilled her, she knew it was selfish. If he took her to Rhodes, he would be turning away from all he’d fought for. Pride, honor, respect – things he valued. Things his family, his father, valued. She would never ask him to make such sacrifices.

She spoke earnestly, “You are an honorable man, Ariston. A man I love because of your honor and duty.”

Medusa saw his face change, growing unsettled by her words.

He turned, staring over the open sea in silence. She squeezed his hand, holding it tightly.

“I fear I may not be able to leave you,” he whispered. He looked at her then, his eyes haunted.

She smiled, stifling her grief, and leaned forward to kiss him. He caught her cheek, holding her to him.

“Then I shall leave you,” she murmured.

He drew back, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“Elpis will come on the morrow and take me to Athena. The Goddess has a gift for me.” Medusa smiled at the necklace, tying it about her neck. “I fear any gift will pale in comparison.”

“And then?” His hands tightened the knot, then claimed her hands once more.

“I may wait for you here, at my uncle’s house?” she asked. “Or I may sail, with Elpis, to Rhodes and wait for you there?”

His hand smoothed the hair from her face. “Would you stay here?”

Medusa’s eyes settled on the small cabin, built into the side of the rocky hillside. “Is this yours?”

Ariston pointed to the large house set high above them on the cliff-top. “That is my Uncle Themistocles’ home…”

“Themistocles? Athens’ statesman?” She gasped, stunned. “He is your
uncle
?”

“He is. And a good man, as well.” Ariston smiled. “This is his cabin – one that will be occupied by a sentry shortly, no doubt. Themistocles has long since moved into the city, to live in her walls until this siege is finished.”

“He has no family?” Medusa asked.

“No.” Ariston’s eyes traveled over the length of her braid. He lifted a finger to smooth back the loose curls from her brow. “His work sustained him. I suspect now that he’s older, he regrets such loneliness.”

Medusa nodded. It would be a lonely life indeed, with no one to share it with.

“So where will you go, lady? I shall follow you when I am able.” His words were hoarse, betraying his emotion.

She could not look at him, she would reveal too much. Her grief, like his, was sharp.

Instead, Medusa’s eyes traced the shoreline. It was beautiful here. The sandy beach veered sharply up, transforming into rocky hills then higher still to become steep cliff faces. A rebellious tassel hyacinth peeked here and there, providing vibrant splashes of color between rocks otherwise sparse in vegetation. Overhead a golden eagle left its rocky nest and flew higher, its shadow sweeping across sea and sand.

Medusa narrowed her eyes, peering into the shadows on their beach. There, head burrowed under her wing, slept Thea. Ever present, ever watchful…though today her pet had trusted Ariston to do the watching.

She turned, settling herself closely against his side on their rocky seat. “I would be where I can feel you with me.”

“I am always with you, Medusa.” He sighed, hesitating before he offered, “Shall I arrange for a ship to take you to Rhodes? Elpis will go with you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “My family will welcome you. And I will come back to you quickly.”

She nodded, letting herself go soft against him.

She would not betray the pain his words brought. She would not beg him to stay or plead with him to go with her. She could not. She would be strong. Her love demanded it.

“When will you leave?” Her voice was soft but calm.

Ariston shook his head. “Soon.”

She looked up at him, her hand on his cheek. Her heart was in her throat, but she swallowed the lump that settled there. “We have this day, and this night. Our memories must bind us together until you find your way back to me.”

She watched as his eyes closed. His jaw grew rigid, his nostrils flared, but he said nothing. She was not alone in this suffering. He felt it too.

She reached for him, welcoming the weight of his arms as they pulled her to him.

Chapter Eight

Ariston’s heart grew heavier the higher the sun rose. Elpis would arrive soon, if Ektor did not arrive first.

The time for farewells had found them too quickly.

He placed his hand over her heart and prayed that their separation would be brief. He would come back to her a greater hero, but a warrior no more.

Medusa lay against him, her softness pressed close along the hard angles of his body. His hand cupped her breast, savoring the feel of her.

He prayed she was with child. His hand splayed her stomach, thumb and pinkie resting on the bridge of her hip bones. A babe would be irrefutable proof of their union.

He dismissed the knowledge that this war might tarry too long and he might miss seeing her grow round with his babe. She would give him many children.

She stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping her. He smiled down at her.

A child. What a joy that would be.

A child would add weight to this marriage. Galenus was an honorable man. He’d be offended by the secrecy of their marriage, of that Ariston had little doubt. But Galenus would be appeased with the gifts he received. He would be pleased to know that Ariston was not just an Ekdromoi leader and servant to Athena, but heir to his oikos and his family basileus. These would serve Medusa’s family well.

Since Poseidon was not her intended and Athena had released her, Galenus and Phorcys should find him a mighty addition to their family.

His worries could wait. Time with her was slipping away.

His eyes drifted over her form, soft and limp in a deep sleep. He lifted a finger to smooth a single curl from her face. She shifted in her sleep, her arm slipping across his chest as she stretched. She pressed herself against him as she did so, stirring him again.

He kissed her, lingering over her lips until they parted for him. And his tongue slipped in, teasing her until she moaned in the back of her throat. His hands and mouth slid over her, kneading and cupping, kissing and licking the planes of her. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

When would he next make love to her? When would he next hold her in his arms or gaze upon the curve of her face? Urgency gripped him. His chest seemed to press against itself, collapsing upon him and his heart and lungs with a leaden pain.

He stilled, letting his eyes look their fill.

“You’re staring at me,” she whispered as her hand settled on his cheek.

“I am.” He held her hand to his cheek. “I cannot stop.”

“I see the love in your eyes, Ariston.”

He would hold this moment dear, to warm him on nights when they were far from one another. 

“I love you.” His voice reverberated in the quiet. He wanted his declaration to be heard. He needed her to hear him say, “More than my life.”

She rolled onto her side and gazed at him, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. “My husband,” she whispered.

His hand cupped her cheek. “My lady.”

He rolled, sliding her beneath him. He wrapped his arms about her, pressing kisses to her throat, her breasts. He drove into her, his groan echoing within the small cabin. He would remember the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her, on those nights they were apart.

He felt her hands tangle in his curls, felt her pull his lips to hers. She gasped, her body tightening around him, and yet he pushed on. The cries of their release, guttural and ragged, were caught in their kiss.

He held her to him, listening to each breath and beat of her heart.

“Oh how I love you, husband,” she whispered, holding his head to her heart.

His arms tightened, pressing her into the shelter of his arms.

The gentle roar of the ocean, the call of the gulls and Thea’s coo, even the wind through the sparse trees rooted to the hillside could not ease the ache threatening his peace. He knew that time would separate them, if only for a while.

Fear rose, shooting up his spine. It grew, stealing his breath and churning his stomach. He was loath to release her, to let her leave the safety of his arms. He held her close, and breathed her in.

He’d never known such fear. But then, he’d never had something he was fearful of losing.

She looked up at him, kissing him on the lips. “Come.” She slipped from his arms and stood on unsteady legs. “Swim with me. Elpis will be here shortly.”

Ariston took her hand, grabbed their clothes, and followed her to the water, determined to reveal none of his apprehension to her. They had enough to endure. This unnatural panic would lend nothing good. He must be strong, for them both.

She distracted him, pulling him into the water with a bright smile. Her nakedness was a dazzling sight, beauty amidst the blue waters and the warm sun. She stooped, collecting handfuls of sand to rub him, cleansing him.

He closed his eyes, allowing her touch to soothe his troubles. And then he washed her, gently scrubbing her with handfuls of sand until her skin seemed to glow.

“You are more beautiful than…” he paused. “You are beauty.”

“If I am, it is because you make me so.” For the first time her smile wavered. She bit her lip, blinking furiously. “I’m sorry.” A single tear slipped from her eye.

His heart was breaking. He caught her in his arms and pulled her against him. He kissed her tenderly.

“I
am
proud of you, husband. Proud of your loyalty to Athens and the Goddess, and I would have you do your duty,” she assured him, her voice unsteady. “But I will miss you.”

“And I you, Medusa.” He took a fortifying breath and smiled at her. All the while he felt a desperate pain filling his heart. “I promise you,” he said against her lips. “I will come back to you.”

###

Elpis found them this way, walking from the water. Her mistress was naked, lovely and damp. Ariston was, too, but she tore her eyes from his figure. He was Medusa’s. She’d no right or desire to look upon him in such a state of undress.

She was glad she’d made Ektor wait behind the rocks, for he’d doubtless be overcome by such a sight.

Thea cackled, drawing all eyes.

“Good afternoon, Thea,” Elpis returned the bird’s greeting.

“Good afternoon to you, sweet Elpis,” Medusa stooped to retrieve her peplos from the sand.

Elpis moved forward, helping Medusa dress. “And to you, mistress.”

Medusa hugged Elpis to her. Her lady trembled in her arms. So Medusa’s smile was for Ariston. She squeezed Medusa, proud of her bravery.

“Are you well, Elpis?” Ariston asked, safely draped in his chiton.

“I am well. And ready for our travels to Rhodes. My lady’s things are ready to be packed and carried to our ship upon my lord’s bidding.” Elpis released her mistress. She glanced back and forth between the two, both pleased and saddened by what was to come.