Medusa, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) (3 page)

She nodded, peering at him from beneath the dark fringe of her lashes. “It will please the Goddess,” she said softly.

“Goodnight then, my lady…mistress.” He inclined his head. They’d reached their meeting place, three fig trees before Galenus’ house.

This spot brought some of his brightest mornings and longest nights, sentiments the Goddess would hardly hold with.

She sighed loudly, but sounded amused as she said, “You may call me by name, soldier. There is no rule against
that
.”

Ariston swallowed, taking a deep breath. His voice sounded strained, “Goodnight then…Medusa.”

Chapter Two

He said her name, softly.

Not mistress or priestess or niece or daughter, just her name.

True, she’d goaded him into it – but it did not diminish the pleasure she felt upon hearing him. The deep cadence of his voice awakened the strangest sensations.

What was this warmth that filled her belly? What fire licked her skin? Indeed, even breathing in the cool night air seemed troubling.

“Goodnight, soldier,” she murmured, refusing to look at him. “Blessings to you.”

She moved down the smooth stone path towards her chambers, knowing he would wait until she was safely inside before retiring. She took several slow breaths, easing the tightness in her chest. How could he stir such strange feelings? It would be wise not to examine her reaction too closely.

She glanced up to find Elpis, her companion, watching her from the arched window of her bedchamber. Thea, her beloved owl, regarded her with huge yellow eyes.

She lifted a hand, smiling in greeting. Elpis waved back, saying something to Thea.

Medusa ran up the path, into the house and down the open walkway to her chamber. As she swept into her room, she greeted them. “Good eve, Elpis.”

Elpis smiled. “And to you, my mistress.”

Thea called out, a sweetly beseeching coo she made for Medusa alone.

She went to the owl. “And to you as well, my dear little friend. Have you kept Elpis company while I was away?”

Thea fluffed up her chest as Medusa stroked her head affectionately, clicking softly in answer.

“Mistress,” Elpis’ worried tone drew Medusa’s attention. “It pains me to dim your bright smile, but your uncle seeks an audience.”

“Now? Surely he can wait for our evening meal?”

Elpis shook her head. “Your parents have sent a letter.”

The pleasure of the evening vanished. Medusa pulled the veils from her head and laid them gently upon her mat, anxiety pressing upon her sharply.

There were times when wisdom and reason failed her. Her parents were often the cause of these failings. Why had the Gods made her
their
daughter?

Such thoughts are not fitting for Athena’s Priestess
.

She closed her eyes and prayed for patience and generosity.

Thea hooted, seeking her attention. Medusa cooed back, watching the animal’s eyes narrow into pleased slits.

Oh to feel such contentment, such peace and love.

Love had never been peaceful, not for Medusa. In truth, she’d seen very little to indicate love existed. Duty was her fate. Duty did not waver. It was constant. And she was content with her station – most of the time.

Duty was undoubtedly the reason for her parents’ correspondence, though what new duty they might demand of her was a mystery.

“How was this message delivered, Elpis?”

Elpis’ voice was unsteady. “Your sisters await you.”

Medusa drew in a deep breath. “Help me change, then. The sooner I appease them, the sooner we may put any unpleasantness behind us.” She attempted cheerfulness as she added, “I do hope they will behave this time.”

Her sisters excelled at mischief. She had fond memories of them from her early childhood, teasing and goading one another to make her laugh. She’d been a favored toy, each trying to outdo the other to gain her giggling attention.

Things were different now.

She sighed and pulled her long hair over her shoulder. Elpis removed the white wool tunic that swept the floor and covered every inch of her skin.

Medusa wore her robes with pride, for they marked her as Athena’s chosen within the temple. Every stitch and symbol was in celebration of the Goddess of Wisdom. Finely embroidered lavender orchids and white asphodel celebrated Greece. Copper and gold thread owls and serpents were symbols of wisdom. Green, black and brown olives were woven throughout, honoring Athena’s gift of olives to the Athenians.

Away from the temple she could wear the simple peplos worn by other women. Her slender arms were free of fabric and her feet bare. Her neck delighted in the kiss of the air, the caress of the sun’s warmth on her exposed skin. It was a kind of freedom, simple yet luxurious. And freedom was something she rarely enjoyed under the watchful gaze of her uncle, or someone he judged worthy.

Uncle Galenus believed as Athena, that men were easily tempted. He looked upon Medusa as too great a temptation for any man. As a result, only eunuchs, or those too aged to cause alarm, worked inside the house. The small contingent of troops that resided on his grounds was there because Athena demanded it.

Aunt Xenia had argued that, as Athena’s soldiers, these men were able to set aside their manly passions in service to their Goddess.

“They are men, wife. And as such, they can be tempted,” Uncle Galenus had replied. “I tolerate their presence, at a distance, for it is Athena’s will. But if these soldiers do not abide by the order of Athena they will be punished. I will see to it myself.”

Uncle Galenus preferred castration over death. He believed the loss of a whole servant was a far greater punishment to a slave’s master than losing a small part. It was a relief to Medusa that neither punishment had ever been carried out. At least, not that she knew of.

Elpis used large bronze disks to clasp the lightweight, creamy peplos at each of her shoulders, draping the extra fabric in a becoming fashion. Medusa laced the leather cuff over her forearm to protect her skin from Thea’s talons. Once secure, she sat so Elpis could dress her hair.

“There is no other maid in all of Greece with hair as thick or as soft. And such a beautiful color, like rich honey.” Elpis laced a coil of bronze thread through Medusa’s braid. “You’re too lovely to stay in the temple, mistress,” Elpis sighed, standing back to admire her.

“You begin to sound like my parents.” Medusa smiled at her companion. “It is enough, I think, to live in Athena’s good graces. If I am lovely, then surely that is pleasing for the Goddess.”

“Then Athena is greatly pleased, mistress.”

“You are a sweet soul.” Medusa hugged Elpis.

Thea cooed at Medusa’s tone, her fine feathered chest reverberating with the sound.

“Come then, Thea.” Medusa held her arm out, offering it as perch. “You can protect me this night.”

Elpis’ face was distraught. “How can you jest? Knowing who waits for you and, likely, what news they bring?”

“Fear not, Elpis. Let me hear their wishes so that I may return to the peace of my chamber. I’ll no doubt have need of your compliments and comfort then.”

“You are brave, mistress.”

“Before the moon is high this will be but an unpleasant memory.” She squeezed Elpis’ arm, hoping to reassure them both. She smiled at her companion again and swept from her room and down the hall.

A knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach, but she would not burden Elpis. Athena would chide her for succumbing to distress, yet Medusa could not dismiss the churning anxiety. Her father was a temperamental sort, impatient and hot-headed. Word from him meant change. Or grief.

Perhaps this time would be different? She prayed so.

She let her gaze roam Galenus’ house, her home since childhood. Built about an interior courtyard, she thought the house well appointed. Arched windows lined the entire exterior wall, affording a view of her uncle’s vast property. The full moon illuminated carefully tended fields and a gated herb garden. Beyond lay Xenia’s bountiful olive grove. Years of deliberate devotion to the land and the Gods had made Galenus a man of substantial wealth. And yet, Galenus valued his home, his oikos, and his position in Athens’ society above all.

Thea cackled, ruffling her wings.

“Go on, Thea. It’s a fine night for hunting.” Medusa held her arm up, meeting the animal’s eyes with a smile. “Come back to me when you’re done.”

Thea blinked at her once before releasing her hold and flying into the darkness.

Medusa lingered, enjoying the soothing peace of evening before it was taken from her.

At the gate old Nikolaos hummed hoarsely, the embers of his pipe flickering in the dark. He sank onto his mat, settling against the wall for the night. He refused to sleep indoors, a fact that frustrated her aunt and amused her uncle.

Medusa glanced up at the stars, sparkling brilliant in the night. Their presence would be a fine companion to happy dreams, she thought.

There was nickering from the stables and the bray of a mule. Thea called, hunting perhaps? Fainter, further from the house, the tinkling bell of Nikolaos’ favorite nanny echoed as she led the herd to graze across the fields. These sounds of home comforted her. 

A candle flickered in the guards’ house beyond the stables, catching her eye. She wondered if Ariston was awake. On a night like this, he must miss his home…

No. You will not think of him
.

She forced herself forward, banishing thoughts of her guard. She thought on him too often of late.

As she rounded the corner, she blinked. Brilliant candlelight overwhelmed the majesty of the full moon and stars. The light, more candles than Medusa had ever seen, chased away the uncertainty of the night and forced all within the courtyard from shadows, to be displayed clearly.

As clearly as one can be, shrouded in dark veils and thick shawls
.

Her sisters had little choice in their attire, she knew. But cloaked as they were, encompassed by black and grey robes, only heightened the air of menace their towering stature and filmy veils stirred. She knew why Elpis was intimidated – even her uncle was discomfited by their presence. She also knew that her sisters without their veils would be far worse.

“Sister,” Stheno and Euryale spoke as one.

“Good eve, sisters,” Medusa answered, smiling.

Uncle Galenus moved to her side. “Niece, your sisters have come from Corfu.” His loud voice echoed in the quiet of the courtyard.

Corfu was the westernmost isle of Greece, no slight journey. It did not bode well for her. Medusa said only, “You do me great honor.”

“We simply do our parents’ bidding,” Stheno answered, the hint of a smile in her voice.

“As a good child should,” Euryale added tartly.

Medusa waited, ignoring the barbed sting of Euryale’s insult. She was a good daughter to their parents. She always had been, no matter what Euryale might imply.

Had she not come here, to Galenus and Xenia, upon her parents’ bidding? Had she not entered Athena’s temple to beg for
their
salvation? And when Athena had granted them favor in exchange for Medusa’s service, had she not accepted without question?

But all her past deeds would be forgotten now. They had need of her once again. Why else were her sisters here?

“Have you eaten, child?” Aunt Xenia gestured towards the table. A small feast had been arranged to mask the underlying threat of this visit.

Medusa shook her head and made her way to the table, taking a fig and nibbling in silence.

Stheno moved forward, stooping to regard her from the depths of the black veils. Her sister towered over most mortals, yet Euryale was the taller of the two. As Stheno assessed her, two bright spots seemed to glow beneath the veils.

Medusa smiled at her sister, warmly. As a child, Stheno had loved her best.

“Our father believes he has given you time, Medusa, more than enough time to fulfill your obligations to Athena and to your…” Stheno paused over the tender terms Medusa had given her masters, “aunt and uncle.” Stheno’s voice softened as she added softly, “Come home, sister. We miss you.”

“And I miss you.” Medusa placed her hand on her sister’s arm. “But I’ve little say so about when I might return….”

Euryale interrupted, her tone ever sharp, “The Anestheria. You have until then to tell the Goddess you’re called home.”

Dismay flooded Medusa’s chest and stomach. How could she present Athena with such a decree? Athena was a Goddess – an Olympian. Athena might release
her
, when and if Athena chose to do so. If Medusa dared try such blasphemy, at her sire’s bidding or not, the cost would be great. A cost she would be forced to pay, undoubtedly, as her father would not see reason. 

She swallowed the bite of fig she’d been nibbling. It stuck, thick and uncomfortable, in her throat.

“Why now, nieces?” Uncle Galenus boomed, causing all to jump.

“She won’t stay comely forever, dear Uncle. While the Gods thought to bless her with beauty and child-bearing, she suffers from mortality…” Stheno’s explanation grew more troubling. “Father fears her loss and seeks the gift of immortality for her.”

Euryale interrupted again, smugly this time. “Poseidon has offered –”

“Poseidon?” Medusa stared at her sister, surprised.

“Father has won the God’s favor. He helped destroy a fleet of Persian ships. Poseidon was well pleased, so pleased that the Sea God will give you the Gift in thanks. By Anestheria,” Stheno spoke with care.

Medusa chewed the remainder of her fig with a vengeance.

The Gift? Was immortality a gift? One life serving others was enough. As honored as she was to serve Athena, she knew the Goddess would eventually choose her replacement, for Athena had little use for the aged. And when Medusa was released, she would return to her parents to do their bidding, continuing her life of service. Once this earthly life was over, she imagined that life in Hades’ realm might offer fewer restrictions. Or, at the very least, fewer demands.

If becoming immortal was a gift, she wanted none of it. But her wants would have no bearing, this she knew.