Medusa, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) (18 page)

“You are a gift to my lady.” Ariston dropped a kiss on the top of his wife’s head. “Look for a messenger shortly. He will have the name of your ship as well as the means to take your things with him.”

Thea cooed and flew to Ariston, landing on his shoulder with the slightest ruffling of feathers. “And you will watch over my lady while I’m away, mighty Thea. I charge you with her safe keeping.” Ariston’s voice was soft. But he met the owl’s yellow eyes with such conviction that Elpis wondered at it.

Did he believe Thea would hear him – understand him?

“If she has need of me, come and find me, Thea,” the last was the faintest of whispers.

Thea clicked and cooed.

Mayhap she does
, Elpis wondered. “Ektor awaits my lord. We met on the way…”

Elpis saw Medusa’s hands tighten about her husband’s. Soon they would be parted for who knew how long. It hurt her, this sadness that tinged their blissful union. But surely the Gods would find favor with such a match and preserve it.

Ariston turned to Medusa, his eyes fierce upon her. “I will return to you as soon as I can. I give you my word.”

Medusa nodded, then wrapped her arms around him.

In those few moments, Elpis could not look at them. Sorrow replaced whatever joy they’d shared. And Elpis understood it. After so long having been denied love, being parted would be a terrible blow. In fact, Elpis could imagine nothing more painful for either of them.

“Ariston!” Ektor’s voice traveled down the hill to them.

Elpis turned, catching sight of Ariston’s handsome face contorting. He pressed his face into his lady’s hair and whispered something. His arms tightened.

Medusa buried her face against his neck, her hands fisting in his robe to hold him to her.

“Ariston?” Ektor called again. “It is time. Nereus demands your presence immediately. The ships leave at first light.”

In the fading sun Elpis watched as Ariston grabbed his wife to him, kissing her with more tenderness, more ferocity, than Elpis had imagined. She stared, amazed at the way they swayed together before he tore himself from her arms and ran. He did not look back when he crested the hill or as he pulled himself onto his horse.

But, as Ektor’s mount leapt forward, Ariston looked back and raised a hand to them.

Medusa’s hand gripped hers, crushing her hand. “Hold me, Elpis, so I will not beg him to stay. Help me not shame myself,” her voice trembled.

Elpis saw her lady smile, waving after the fading form of her husband.

Once he was gone, she pulled her mistress close and let her sob until she had no more tears.

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Medusa sat behind Elpis on Ariston’s horse. In one hand she clutched the missive Ariston had sent to them on their slow trek back to the Temple of Athena Polias. He had not tarried, but immediately made the arrangements needed to send her and her companion to his home on the far isle of Rhodes. A messenger had delivered the note, along with Ariston’s horse, to them. Elpis was to give this missive to the courier who would come to fetch their belongings. Once they’d departed, Galenus would have Ariston’s mount as part of the bride price.

Thea circled overhead, hooting in the darkening sky.

Galenus would have word by now. Elpis had delivered it before she’d left to collect Medusa from the cabin.

Her uncle would bluster and rail, but then he would see reason. She prayed he would. Ariston was a good man. Her new husband’s gifts had been more than generous. Surely Galenus, a practical man, would see that. If Poseidon would not have her and Athena was finished with her, then her marriage was a very good match – even if it did take her to Rhodes.

Rhodes.

A tiny island leagues across the sea. To a family that she knew nothing of – though Ariston assured her they would love her dearly. He’d sent a dispatch to them so they would know of his marriage and her arrival.

Sunset was upon them as the horse stopped at the base of the temple steps. Medusa looked up, admiring its loveliness.

Her gaze swept the top step. A half dozen well-armed guards stood ready to defend Athena’s temple if the Persians reached Athens’ soil.

She slipped from the saddle. “Hurry back, Elpis,” she whispered. Elpis’ hand squeezed hers.

“May Athena’s gift give you some solace, mistress,” Elpis said.

Thea hooted and Medusa held her arm out, smiling as the owl landed gracefully on her leather cuff. Her little pet was mindful of her mistress’ well-being, and her slight presence lifted Medusa’s spirits.

She touched the charm at her neck.

She hurried up the steps, thankful for the soft chlamys Elpis had brought for her. The wind on the Acropolis blew cold compared to the warmer breeze of the beach.

Once of the soldiers appraised her through narrowed eyes. He smiled slightly, his gaze lingering on her face. She did not like the way the man looked at her. She missed the cover of her robes, the shield of her veils.

Medusa pulled the hood of the chlamys up, shielding her face from his prying eyes as she entered the temple.

Something was not right. Why were no tapers lit? Where was Athena’s priestess? Her unease grew stronger.

Athena stood, staring out over the sea. Her posture was rigid as she held her golden shield at the ready. Perhaps Athena had sent her priestess away? This war troubled the Goddess, too, then.

“Athena?”

Athena turned to her. “You’ve come, little one.”

Medusa knelt before her Goddess. “I have.”

Athena’s voice was soft, “You have never failed me. You are a dutiful sort.”

A queer anxiousness ran down the length of Medusa’s spine.

Athena studied her, open curiosity in her round brown eyes. “Do you know what gift has been bestowed upon you?”

“I do not, Goddess.” She tried to smile again, but could not quite manage it.

Athena arched an eyebrow. “No, I thought not. You are most blessed, little one, for your gift is more than a mere mortal could dare to hope for.” But Athena’s voice was laced with bitterness. What was this?

Had the Persians found entry to her city? Was the siege already underway? Whatever had happened, the Goddess was not pleased, Medusa could tell.

“Enough, Athena, let us be done with this. I will take her.” The voice was low, alluring and seductive in its cadence.

Thea cackled, ruffling her feathers in agitation.

Medusa knew that voice, though she’d hoped never to hear it again. A terrible premonition began to unfurl within her.

In the shadows of the temple, her eyes sought and found Poseidon.

She could not speak, could not move. She felt only terror, cold and heavy, settle in her chest.

“He has pled his case, little one. The great Poseidon has humbled himself, for the want of you. And now you are honored among women. This is your gift. You will wed my uncle and be wife of a God. What say you?” Athena watched her carefully.

Medusa struggled to breathe. Her heart convulsed as she heard Athena continue gently, “It is the will of Olympus, of Zeus, and your father.”

Medusa tried not to cringe as Poseidon came to her side.

Thea hissed, shifting from talon to talon as she attempted a defensive posture.

His pale blue eyes peered past the owl and into hers, assessing her hesitancy. “You are displeased?” Poseidon knelt beside her, his blue eyes narrowing to slits. “How is it that our marriage, the honor I bestow upon you, could displease you?”

How could this be? Athena had released her, given her freedom. If she’d known, if she’d suspected what this was her gift – but how could she have known? Never had she entertained such a thought. 

As her eyes met his, she knew she must be cautious now.

She drew a breath and whispered, “It is a surprise…” Her voice wavered as she added, “You do me a great honor.” She murmured the next words, knowing they were dangerous indeed. “One I am unworthy of… One I am unable to accept.”

But what choice did she have?

Athena gasped.

Poseidon smiled, his voice edged with laughter. “Do you think to toy with me, girl?”

“Medusa, think before you speak, I implore you.” Athena moved forward, her face astonished.

Thea cackled and flew away, leaving Medusa alone. She didn’t fault Thea – she would escape as well, if she could. But she couldn’t. She could only plead her case, and pray for understanding from the Gods.

Medusa glanced at the Goddess. There was concern in Athena’s eyes, it was clear.

She knew the words she should speak. She should accept Poseidon and bow to the will of the Gods. But she would not dishonor her husband or her marriage. She could not.

She drew a shaky breath and spoke softly, “I have married.”

“What?” Athena gasped.

“In two days’ time?” Poseidon laughed – a grating sound that unnerved Medusa.

“You’ve married?” Athena repeated.

“You were released to marry me, Medusa. Because I would have you,” Poseidon’s voice grew louder, each word rising as his irritation mounted. “I would secure peace between the Titans, the Olympians, and the mortals. Persia is waiting to destroy Athens, all of Greece. Our marriage would have secured such a treaty. But now…” he sighed and brushed a single finger down her cheek.

And then Poseidon froze. His eyes narrowed as he stared at his finger, resting upon her.

“Married two days past?” he growled. His hand fisted and his face filled with such anger that Medusa drew back. Touching her seemed to unleash his fury. Real fear gripped her. She’d never seen such a look of unconcealed rage.

His heart, if Poseidon had one, could not be so attached to her? Surely not. Athena had railed against Poseidon often enough. She thought him incapable of affection or attachment. Athena had compared her uncle’s selfish nature and blind ambition to that of her father on more than one occasion. Neither would rest until they had what they wanted…

He must want her, greatly. Medusa repressed a shudder, her mind filling with unbidden images.

His unyielding gaze pierced her calm exterior to clutch at her heart, terrifying her beyond reason. She could barely breathe. Something had changed within him. Gone was the playful yet selfish God. The Poseidon before her was one of vengeance and retribution. Scorn lined the planes of his face. And yet desire blazed from the paleness of his eyes. 

One moment he was before her, the next he was leaning insolently against the dais. She drew in a deep breath before casting a tentative glance his way. He seemed amused suddenly, his rage gone. 

He looked at Athena then, as did Medusa.

“You give me little choice, Medusa.” Athena began, her voice echoing off the temple pillars as thunder.

“Peace, niece, I will take her.” Poseidon spoke with contempt. “Her father offered her to me as a mistress long before I offered my suit. It will suffice, and appease.”

Medusa was shaking. His hand cupped the side of her throat, startling her. The coldness of his skin pressed against hers, making her shiver all the more.

She saw his face darken instantly. His gaze, so fixed upon the hand that touched her, blazed once more. He pulled his hand from her, as if burned, and stared at her. There was no mistaking the fury he fought. “I will take the place of her husband. She will come with me. Until I tire of her, that is.”

“I cannot,” Medusa gasped, reeling from Poseidon’s words. “I cannot betray him.”

Athena’s eyes narrowed. “You are wise to declare such fidelity to your husband, little one. If indeed the vows spoken are valid and binding. Did you marry with the blessing of your father or your guardian? I thought not.” Athena’s brown eyes looked between the two of them. “A bargain has been struck with your father – a bargain with Poseidon. My uncle is being most generous.”

Medusa felt as if she was tied beneath the crushing waves of high tide. She could see those things beyond the water, make out their shape and presence – but could not breathe or blink clarity into her eyes.

Athena was resolved as she continued, “This is a matter which impacts all of Athens, girl. You will be forgiven your selfishness. Poseidon has given you the means to repair the damage done. Take it.”

Ariston’s words echoed in her head and her heart.
You will always hold my heart. Let it give you the strength to do what must be done. For you will be my lady, forever.

How could she endure the hands of another upon her? How could she lie with this…this God while married to one fighting for her protection – no, the protection of all of Athens? How could she contemplate dishonoring Ariston in such a way? His love gave her the strength to whisper, “I cannot.”

Athena turned from her. “Leave this temple. Now. You’ve lost favor with me and Olympus. I will look on you no more.”

Medusa felt tears slipping from her eyes. She was truly alone now. “Please, Athena.”

“Go!” Athena roared. “You speak honeyed words of loyalty and duty then turn your back on them. You would risk Athens? For what? A virtue you no longer possess? How dare you. Do not desecrate this holy place any longer. Go. Now!” Her words rolled throughout the temple, a force to be obeyed.

Medusa rose on trembling legs. She stumbled as she carried herself from the temple, but knew better than to stop. Her steps were halting, yet she pushed on. She collapsed as she came to Athena’s olive tree. She closed her eyes, to pray…

But who would she pray to?

What should she do? What could she do now? Her heart was throbbing, each beat sending pain throughout her.

She shook her head, a sob catching in her throat.

This was her making. Her naiveté had brought this about. She should have known she’d never be free, not really. Loving Ariston, tasting the promise of a real life had blinded her to the truth.

She’d served Athena with such joyous devotion because she believed in the Goddess, in her wisdom. She’d rejoiced in the knowledge that she served Olympus’ will. That she was of use to them, as she was to her father, was understood.

For the first time Medusa questioned this. Requiting Poseidon’s lust seemed a less than noble goal for Olympus, when the Gods themselves revered marriage. How, then, could Olympus ask such a thing of her? Nay, demand it?