No! Eurydice almost cried aloud. She had just bethought herself of afflicting the king with cramps and pains in his arms and legs to make him less eager to box. Those were small spells, painful for a Healer to cast because they were in opposition to her natural Gift, but she thought she could have got through them. After Orpheus’ threat she dared not! Surely, Amycus would have Orpheus killed if he felt he was being “punished.”
Amycus spit right into Orpheus’ face. “That for your threats!” he screamed. “Stand up like a man and box or take your punishment without the chance to strike a blow in return. Box, or I will have your hands broken, your face smashed—just what I will do to you anyway, but without letting you hit back.”
Terror was making Eurydice sick; her stomach heaved and growled and bile rose in her throat. Involuntarily, she thought of the commonest association with nausea—food. Her breath eased out and the turmoil within her quieted. She would make Amycus hungry and thirsty. If he stopped to have a meal before forcing Orpheus into the boxing ring, she would have time to get back to the boat and bring Polydeuces.
“Amycus, basileus, didomi tou piein epithumia; didomi phagoi an hopote bouloito,” she murmured under her breath.
The heaviness closed tighter around her as she spoke and she found she could not breathe, but she forced out the last words, her eyes fixed intensely on the king. It was a very small spell she had cast and a very harmless one, she told herself, but her chest ached and her eyes flicked from one to another of the men around Amycus, expecting one to be a mage who would cry out against her spell casting. Her terror increased as she fought desperately to draw breath, clutching at the stall to remain upright.
At that moment, chaos erupted at the foot of Amycus’ great chair. Orpheus slammed his elbow into the throat of the guard holding the knife and the man, who had shown his contempt for a weak singer who could not box by hardly paying attention to Orpheus, went down, choking and gagging.
Shock broke the hold of whatever guarded against magic. Air filled Eurydice’s lungs and she screamed, which did not matter since half the crowd let out shrieks of varying volume. Orpheus, however, did not make the mistake of attempting to escape, which would have been impossible. As the guard went down, he simply put his foot on the man’s knife, wiped his face with the hem of his cloak, and raised his eyes to meet those of Amycus.
“If that is the choice you offer, then I will box,” he said, his voice soaring effortlessly over the remaining cries and the gasps and retching of the guard.
The cold contempt Orpheus felt poured out over the crowd like an icy douche. Momentarily it froze everyone; the people shrank away, ashamed, the guards coming toward Orpheus hesitated, and even the mad king winced. The immediate stiffening of Amycus’ body showed he knew his reaction had been visible, and then rage suffused his features.
Desperately, although she was shaking with fear of the consequences, Eurydice readied a spell of immobility. She would freeze the king so he could not order his guards to kill Orpheus. She would not think that there might be nothing this time to free her from choking to death, or that when their king froze, the guards and nobles might kill Orpheus anyway. Weight fell on her; her throat closed.
The guards had recovered, two seizing Orpheus’ arms, but the furious red had faded from Amycus’ face. He seemed suddenly distracted. He sniffed the air, which did carry some scents of cooking from food stalls scattered in the market, and his tongue ran across his lips as if his mouth was dry. Then he brought his eyes back to Orpheus.
“You will box when I say you will,” he said, looking down his nose as if at something very small. The effect, however, was spoiled when he licked his lips again. “When we fight is my choice, not yours. You are a nothing. You will wait my pleasure. Now, I will refresh myself with food and wine.”
By the expressions of surprise on the people around her, Eurydice judged that what Amycus had said was unusual. She breathed a soft sigh, the sense of threat around her diminishing as she dismissed the words for immobility from her mind. Her spell, designed to make Amycus hungry and thirsty, must have worked. She cast an anguished glance at Orpheus, who was completely surrounded by guards and being driven up the road toward the palace, but she knew she must not follow. She dared not use another spell. Had Orpheus not caused a diversion, she might have choked to death, or Amycus’ mage might have caught her, surrounded as she was by the weight of the anti-magic. And without magic, she would be of no use to Orpheus. She must fetch Polydeuces at once.
As fast as she could, Eurydice slipped through the marketplace. She hesitated only briefly near where the road entered the square, but no one seemed to be watching, and others were passing in and out. Then three women came together, loosely grouped, and Eurydice stepped up behind them as if she were about to join the group. She went out of the market with them, but no one seemed to be the least interested in her, and she could not bear to keep to the slow pace. Once around the first curve, she passed the group and then took to her heels, running all out toward the beached boat, uncaring if the few people on the road stared after her in astonishment. Halfway down the road, she began to call for Polydeuces.
The men came running up to meet her, swords drawn. She cried down to them, “Orpheus is taken.”
“Curse him,” Castor growled, “he should be a little less enchanting.” But he increased his pace, closing the distance between them.
“No,” Eurydice gasped, catching Polydeuces’ arm and clinging to it for support as they met. Over her shoulder she said to Castor, “Orpheus never sang. The king is mad! He demanded that Orpheus box with him.”
“Box? Orpheus?” Polydeuces said, and began to laugh.
His smile disappeared, however, as Eurydice related what had happened. After the first few sentences, she had caught her breath and she turned to go up the road again, pulling Polydeuces with her. The other men followed, clustering close to listen as she finished the story. When the tale was done, Eurydice started to run again, but Mopsus stopped and Polydeuces caught her arm and held her.
“Wait,” Mopsus said. “If this Amycus is mad, we will need more than fourteen men to wrest Orpheus free of him.”
“I do not know how long my spell will hold,” Eurydice cried, tugging at Polydeuces. “Perhaps it might end with the first sip of wine and bite of food. I tell you it is that madman’s purpose to break Orpheus to bits, not merely to see who is the better boxer.”
“Still, Orpheus will be no better off if we are taken prisoner,” Castor said. “We cannot simply plunge into the marketplace with drawn swords.”
“No, I agree,” Polydeuces said. “I will go on ahead with Eurydice and challenge Amycus to box with me. I will do my best to enrage him, so he will forget about Orpheus. But if he is as mad as Eurydice thinks, he may not take kindly a defeat at my hands. Let Mopsus and three others take the boat back to warn Jason.”
“Good,” Castor said. “That makes sense. The rest of us will follow by twos and threes and try to find other ways to enter the market.”
“And if you do not see any action in the marketplace,” Eurydice put in, starting forward again, “look for the wide avenue that goes north. Amycus’ palace is on that road, and he may decide to break Orpheus there. Some in the marketplace were moved by Orpheus’ protest that he did not know how to box and had called to the king to let him go.”
Mopsus and three others turned back, the remainder of the men sheathed their swords and moderated their pace, some slipping into the trees along the edge of the road. Eurydice hurried on, tugging Polydeuces along with her. Her heart was pounding like a gang of blacksmiths, and pains lanced down her tired legs. Still, she pressed forward trying to go faster. When they were almost at the market square, Polydeuces jerked her to a halt.
“Listen,” he said. “There are only the ordinary sounds of a market, no roars or unusual quiet, which might mark expectation. Either the fight is over, or it is not near starring yet. Let us go slower. We do not wish to draw unnecessary att
ention.”
It was true, but Eurydice shook with terror and the need for restraint as they walked the short distance. Stop being so foolish, she admonished herself. Even if Amycus has hurt him, I can Heal him. But tears stung her eyes. She could not bear the thought of Orpheus’ pain.
It was apparent immediately that no contest had taken place in the market. No sign of a cleared space or of any lingering excitement appeared. Eurydice, keeping a grip on Polydeuces’ arm, wove her way through the stalls and shoppers until the avenue that led to the palace became visible. What she saw gave her some relief. There were people walking along the road and others lingering around the open gateway into the palace. Surely they must be waiting to be summoned to watch the match.
Polydeuces must have come to the same conclusion because he now quickened his pace, pulling Eurydice along with him as he strode up the road toward the palace. He was smiling, eager to teach Amycus a lesson. Eurydice’s mouth was suddenly dry and her breath rattled in her throat. Polydeuces might be the best boxer in Greece, but this was not Greece. She remembered suddenly the scarred faces of Amycus’ courtiers and the king’s unmarked countenance. That might be because none dared to strike back at him, but it also might be because his skill was exceptional.
“Lady,” she prayed under her breath, “give this warrior strength, for he would never hurt an unfit opponent.”
At the gate, Polydeuces dropped Eurydice’s arm and he gave her a gentle push to the side. “Stay here,” he urged, “or, better, go down to the market again to direct Castor and the others.”
“Are you sure?” she breathed. “Perhaps I could help—”
He was gone before she finished, laughing as he walked through the gate and then shouting from the middle of the courtyard, “Where is this king who calls himself a boxer? I am Polydeuces, master of boxing. I challenge you to match me, Amycus the boxer.”
There was a confused noise from inside the palace walls and the people who had been idling around the gates pressed forward. Eurydice tried to hang back, but she was carried along with the press. Somewhere from within she heard a man calling that the king was still refreshing himself. The voice sounded uncertain, as if what he said was strange to him. Eurydice’s eyes opened wide. If she did nothing, would Amycus eat and drink himself to death? Would that be better or worse for Orpheus? Worse, surely; it would take days or weeks for a surfeit to kill a man, and all that time Orpheus would be held prisoner. Worse for Jason’s crew, too, because they would have to fight to free Orpheus. And worse for Polydeuces, who would always wonder whether Amycus could outbox him.
Eurydice bit her lip. She was not sure she could release the spell without seeing the king and she was afraid, too, that the release might be as dangerous to her as the casting. Polydeuces was shouting insults, crying that the king feared him and was hiding behind a platter of meat and a pitcher of wine. Most of the crowd was standing in the gateway, but Eurydice found she could peer around the edge of the gate and see within.
In the courtyard, Polydeuces stood with his hands in the boxer’s “ready” position. One man lay on the ground, motionless; others stood around, out of striking distance, watching him warily. At the end of the courtyard, someone was just climbing the steps to the portico of the building.
Eurydice muttered, “Thialuo…” She hesitated fearfully, but no great weight fell on her, and when she drew breath the air flowed freely into her chest.
Perhaps dispelling magic was safe. Eurydice fixed her mind on Amycus’ face and began again, “Amycus, basileus, thialuo—” She hesitated again as she saw movement in the portico and then hastened on “Thialuo ton piein epithumia; thialuo phagoi an hopote bouloito” when Amycus appeared on the top step, holding a half-gnawed haunch of some meat in one hand and a cup in the other.
Amycus belched, shook his head, and looked at the haunch and cup as if he had never seen them before. He thrust them out to each side, and two servants came and relieved him of them. He looked at the man lying near Polydeuces’ feet, then at Polydeuces.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I am a stranger, by your laws required to box with you. Nothing could please me more. My name is Polydeuces, and I am the best boxer in the world.”
“Liar!” Amycus roared. “I am the best boxer in the world.”
“Not until you have bested me,” Polydeuces shouted back, and laughed. “Will you fight a boxer, or are you only fit to box a singer, who has never boxed in his life, and such half-dead slaves as traders bring to pacify you while they do business in your city?”
Eurydice’s brows lifted and she almost giggled. As she slipped sideways along the wall out of the gaping crowd, she wondered whether Polydeuces had hit upon the truth. She felt like singing with joy. Orpheus was safe. Then she sobered and began to look for Castor and the others. Polydeuces was now the one in danger. But Castor was already there, on the opposite side of the gate from her, inching his way past the staring crowd into the courtyard. Behind him was another of the Argo’s crew, and a third touched Eurydice’s shoulder as he passed her. In a few moments more she had counted all ten, all working their way closer.
Just then a loud shout came from within and the people standing near the gate began to press forward into the courtyard. Eurydice shivered. What pleasure there could be for anyone in two men beating each other bloody, she could not imagine. Without a moment’s delay, she started back to the town. For the third time, she worked her way through the market to the road to the beach. This time she thought a few curious glances were cast at her, but no one called out or tried to stop her, and she went down the road once more to guide Jason and his men to the palace. Twenty had crammed themselves into the little boat. They were just coming to shore as she stepped onto the beach.
“Now what have you done?” Jason called, coming across to stare down at her.
“This time I cannot be blamed,” Eurydice replied. “If you had trusted me and let me go alone, I would have found the answers you wanted and be safely returned by now. Only men are in danger in this city.”
“That is not something I could know,” Jason said, dismissing further discussion with a gesture. “Where is Orpheus? Could you do nothing to protect him?”
“I did what I could.” Eurydice sighed. “There is a spell or something in the marketplace that does not like magic. I was barely able to use a little kitchen spell and make Amycus hungry and thirsty. That held his attention until I could get down to the beach to fetch Polydeuces. I left Polydeuces calling the king a coward and challenging him to fight. Orpheus is safe, I think, but I can Heal him if he was hurt.”
“Kitchen spell,” Jason repeated, his lips downturned as if he had tasted something sour.
He looked away from her almost at once, however, and when he saw the boat had been pulled up far enough and his men were on the beach, he gestured them toward him. Two he assigned to stay with the boat and take it out to sea if a mob should come down from the town. When he had finished his instructions, he said to Eurydice, “Stay here. I understand we must go through the town and up farther to the palace. I do not need you for a guide and I do not want to have to worry about you in the middle of a fight.”
Eurydice opened her mouth to make a heated reply, but Jason had already turned away and was leading his men toward the road. About to defy him and follow, she hesitated, knowing that if she did not slip through the woods unseen, Jason would send someone to take her back and complain, quite justly this time, that she had made trouble. Keeping up with the men while remaining hidden in the woods would not be easy—
The thought checked and Eurydice asked herself sharply why she should wish to keep up with them? Just because she had been told to stay behind? Jason was actually right; she could be of no help in the fight if she could not use magic. She glanced anxiously at the men guarding the boat, but they were talking comfortably about whether they should stop elsewhere to seek a cargo. Clearly, they felt there was little danger for Jason and his well-seasoned crew. S
till some might be hurt. Eurydice wondered how much advantage there could be in being somewhat nearer so she could Heal sooner—if she could Heal at all in the town or the palace. Would not that magic-abhorring weight crush the life from her? And what if she should be seized and held hostage?
Having destroyed her excuse for wanting to accompany Jason, her real reason became apparent—that she wanted to see Orpheus sooner. But when she examined the idea, it seemed a better reason for staying behind. Her heart sank at the prospect effacing Orpheus in front of all the men. Doubtless they would expect her to fly into his arms, and she would be glad enough to do it if only she were certain that he would receive her. She went over in her mind again her doubts and to counter each came a memory of Orpheus’ complaint about waiting for a kind word. Reminded that they had parted in anger, Eurydice, of course, began to imagine that Amycus had ordered Orpheus killed or mangled to satisfy his rage over Polydeuces’ insults.
Eons of anxiety passed, although the sun had moved scarcely a quarter of the way down toward the west. Then there were men’s voices from the road, men laughing and singing. Eurydice and the two boat guards sprang to their feet. The guards kept their places near the boat, ready to push it into the water if the sounds of joy were a trap, but Eurydice ran forward. Fears of rejection forgotten, she was looking for Orpheus, but her Healer’s instinct seized her muscles and turned her head so that her eyes fixed on Polydeuces. He was on his feet but walking stiffly and his flesh was all over mottled with red marks that would soon turn color into dreadful bruises; drawn irresistibly by his need, it was to him that Eurydice ran.
Polydeuces eyes lit when he saw her. He had not forgotten what she had done for Polyphemus and others the night they were attacked, and he agreed gladly to her offer to Heal him. Castor, on whom he had been leaning, eased him down on the grass at the edge of the beach. Eurydice knelt beside him, at first passing her hands over him without touching him. Her lips folded together and she shook her head. As if she were scolding, Polydeuces began to explain his battered state. Amycus had been a better boxer than he expected, he admitted. He had been sure, at first, that the man only attacked the helpless and thus had not been as cautious as he should have been.
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