LA01. The Crown of Zeus

by Christine Norris

  “It’s beautiful,” Rachel said.

  “What’s that up there?” Harriet pointed to the top of the hill. A long rectangular building with many columns and a peaked roof stood above the city like a watchful mother.

  “That,” Claire said, “is the Temple of Athena. Also known as the Parthenon.”

  The mention of that name made Megan long for home. She was surprised she thought of the big old manor as home. It was a strange feeling.

  “That’s where we have to go. Let’s get there as soon as possible.”

  It was not going to be easy. The day before, Claire reminded Theseus to change the sails from black to white, so instead of arriving to the tragedy of a king’s death, or even a nice inconspicuous landing, they returned to a hero’s welcome.

  It appeared all of Athens came to greet them. People lined the wide main street, and threw wreaths of flowers and palm branches at their feet. Some reached out just to touch their clothes.

  Theseus led them to the Acropolis, the great citadel and palace of Athens. Aegis himself met them at the gates.

  “My son,” he exclaimed, his arms open wide, as he came across the courtyard of marble and grass toward them. “You have returned, as promised.” He hugged his son tightly. He looked at the girls, eyebrows raised. “And you have brought friends.”

  Theseus bowed deeply to his father. “My liege, may I present Megan, Rachel, Claire and Harriet.” Each girl stepped forward. Rachel, Claire and Harriet each dropped a polite curtsey as her name was called. Megan, who wasn’t used to such pleasantries, blushed and made her own awkward dip.

  “It was they who saved me and my kinsmen from the wrath of King Minos and his beast.”

  Aegis beamed. “Then they are welcome in my house. Come, come, I have prepared a great feast in honor of your return.” He walked toward the palace, his arm around the shoulders of his son.

  “Megan,” Rachel said. “We can’t stay, we have to get to the temple.”

  Megan watched Aegis and Theseus walk away. “I think we have to stay,” she murmured out of one side of her mouth. “It would be impolite if we just took off.”

  Harriet rolled her eyes. “Come on, we’re inside a book, for cripes’ sake. Who cares if we’re impolite?”

  Claire pushed her glasses up her nose. “I think Megan’s right. These people may just be inside a book, but Sir Gregory has gone to great lengths to be accurate about things so far. Who knows what would happen to us if we snubbed the king of Athens? We could wind up in jail—or worse.”

  Reluctantly, Rachel and Harriet agreed. The four of them ran to catch up to their hosts. Inside, floors of polished marble reflected the girls’ faces as they gawked at the rich interior of the palace. They walked past beautiful murals that depicted heroic feats. Painted urns sat on pedestals tucked in corners. They were things Megan had only seen in books and museums.

  A woman, dressed all in white, her hair elaborately styled, sat on the wide window ledge. She played a small harp-like instrument; Megan thought it was called a lyre. The woman was a gifted musician, her fingers found the strings with ease, and played a beautiful melody. Megan found the sound soothing; she wanted to stay a while and listen, perhaps rest on one of the chaises set around the room. But the king pressed on.

  King Aegis led them into a large, bright room with a high ceiling supported by the same type of columns that surrounded the reflecting pool at home; the same kind that were all over the city. It was packed with people, some dressed simply, some bedecked with jewels and bangle bracelets all the way up their arms. At the far end was an elevated platform. Three steps ran the width of the dais, and on the platform was a beautiful golden chair.

  “Come,” The king waved the girls inside. “Come forward and be recognized.” He walked to the center of the room; people parted before him and knelt as he passed. Aegis strode by them, head held high.

  He turned and gave the girls a jovial smile. “This way, this way.” When they reached the platform, the king climbed the steps and stood in front of the chair, Theseus on his right. The girls stopped on the floor in front of the steps and looked at each other. Theseus motioned with his head.

  Stand up here, he mouthed to Megan. He made a quick gesture at the second step, then at the four of them. Megan grabbed Rachel’s hand and pulled her up. Claire and Harriet followed.

  Aegis spread his arms wide, and the crowd was silent. All eyes were on the small group of strangers at the front. “This is a great day, indeed,” he bellowed. “My son, your prince, has been returned to us unharmed.” He waved his hand over the girls’ heads. “These young women are the instruments the gods used to bring him back to us. Let us show them our appreciation.”

  The room thundered with applause. Megan felt heat climb up the back of her neck. She leaned over and looked at her friends. Claire blushed too; Rachel and Harriet looked cool and confident, like they experienced this kind of thing every day. Megan wondered what they were thinking.

  When the crowd quieted, the king clapped his hands twice. Two women stepped forward, each simply dressed in a short chiton. Neither wore any jewelry.

  “I have rooms prepared for you,” King Aegis said to the girls. “So that you may freshen up and rest after your long voyage, and prepare for the banquet tonight in your honor. Persephone and Iris—”each bowed her head as her name was called, “—will show them to you.”

  “Thank you, uh, Your Highness.” Megan didn’t want to speak for her friends, but she could do with a rest. The temple would still be there tomorrow.

  Aegis waved a hand at them. “Speak not of it. If you will excuse me, I have more preparations to make before the feast.”

  With a polite bow to the king, the girls followed the two servants out of the throne room, through an ivy-covered cloister that surrounded a well-groomed courtyard and into another wing of the palace.

  They walked down another hall and stopped in front of a wooden door. “I hope this is to your liking,” Iris said. She pushed the door open.

  “Oh my goodness,” Claire said.

  “Wow,” Megan said.

  “Brilliant,” Rachel said.

  “I’m so glad I listened to you, Megan,” Harriet said.

  In the center of the room was a pool of made of rose marble and filled with clear water. Steps led into the water at one end, at the other was a fountain made of a series of cherubs. Each spewed water from its mouth in a graceful arc. Several women, dressed like Persephone and Iris, stood around the pool.

  “Who are they?” Harriet said.

  Persephone answered. “Servants. They will see to your every need.” She took Harriet and Megan by the hand and led them inside. Two of the women came forward, helped them undress and into the water. It was so warm and inviting, and smelled like flowers. Megan dipped herself to her neck, and she was in heaven. She didn’t ever want to get out.

  The women bathed the girls, massaged their sore muscles, brought them food and drink, brushed and set their hair, and gave them clean chitons.

  Rachel lay on a chaise, having her feet rubbed. “Do we really have to leave? Can’t we just stay here forever? This place is better than a spa. And it’s free.”

  “Seriously.” Harriet admired her reflection in a hand mirror. “My mum would be green-eyed jealous if she knew about this.”

  Megan, still in the pool, splashed Rachel. “This really is nice.” She took a grape from a tray on the edge of the pool. “But I think we should move on.”

  “I agree,” Claire said. “But I also think this was just what we needed. I’m ready to face whatever comes now.”

  Megan couldn’t argue with that. Not at all.

  The door opened, and another woman entered the room. She stopped at the edge of the pool.

  “The King requests your presence.”

  “Is it time already?” Megan said sadly. She slowly pulled herself out of the pool, where three of the women waited for her with a fresh chiton. When the girls were ready, they followed the woman t
hrough the palace and back into the spacious throne room, which was now decorated with palm fronds, flowers, and lengths of vibrantly dyed silk. Long tables were piled with food—figs, goat’s-milk cheese, lamb, and fish. Megan picked up a handful of olives and popped one into her mouth.

  “Ouch.” She spit it out. “There’s something hard in this thing.”

  Rachel giggled. “It’s a pit, silly. I think they just pick them off the tree and eat them. They don’t take the pits out and stuff them with pimentos like at home.”

  Megan felt her ears burn. “Of course. I knew that.” She had been to Greek restaurants in New York, of course, and had the olives there. She just hadn’t remembered about the pits. Duh.

  The girls were seated at the end of the head table, next to the royal household. Servers filled their plates with every delectable dish on the table, including a roasted pig, dripping with juice, a special treat to honor Prince Theseus’s return. Everything tasted exactly like it looked—delicious. Megan had several servings of everything; she even took a taste of the wine, poured from golden pitchers into shining chalices. Half a cup made her head spin.

  “Ah.” She put her cup down and patted her stomach, “I’m stuffed.”

  “Me too.” Rachel popped one last fig into her mouth. “That was wonderful.”

  “We should get some rest.” Claire drained her cup of apple cider. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the temple.”

  “And home, I hope,” Harriet said. “Although I will admit, it hasn’t been all bad.” She looked at the banquet, and at Theseus, who sat beside his father at the center of the high table. “Yes, this has definitely been my favorite part.” She ran a hand down her arm. “I wish I could get whatever they put in that bath of ours at home. My skin feels fantastic.”

  The girls said thank you and good night to their hosts and went back to their suite. In a room connected to the one with the pool were four beds, filled with goose down.

  “Good night.” Claire climbed into one.

  “Pleasant dreams.” Harriet pulled up her woolen blanket.

  “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Rachel giggled.

  “That’s actually not funny,” Claire said. “At this time in history—”

  “Oh, Claire, please just shut it, will you?” Harriet said.

  Megan lay down and stared at the ceiling. She heard each of her friends’ breaths become deep and regular as they fell asleep. Outside, the gulls cried and the waves crashed on the shore. She sat up and looked out the window. The moon’s light illuminated an olive grove in the courtyard. A nightingale perched in one, singing its sad song.

  She thought about home. Where was that, exactly? Wherever her father was, of course. She had fought him so much about the move, but it really hadn’t been that bad. Until very, very recently, anyway. On top of feeling guilty about getting her new friends into such a mess, she felt doubly terrible about causing him so much grief. At least she still considered them friends, she still couldn’t count on the feeling being mutual. Rachel and Claire treated her well enough, but the incident on the boat, Harriet’s words, only cemented her own feelings. Were they mad at her? She could just ask them, but she didn’t know how to bring it up. Better they get out of here first, and she’d deal with the consequences once they were home.

  She turned her mind to other things. They had been gone three days. Is my father worried about me? Of course he is. He still worries so much.

  Right after her mother died there had been a period when her father wouldn’t let Megan out of his sight. She had been ten years old, but he treated her as if she were five. She remembered how he insisted on driving her to school and picking her up instead of letting her take the bus. He had had to know where she was every minute.

  Megan supposed that it was normal for him to act that way. He had already lost someone that he loved. She knew that he had blamed himself, even though he never said it. It made sense that he wanted to protect her, even if it meant smothering her.

  She sighed and laid down. Harriet wasn’t the only one who wanted to get out of here.

  * * *

  A low ceiling of granite-colored clouds hung over the city. It gave the buildings a dull, grimy look. The same servants who had helped them yesterday brought breakfast; bread, pomegranates, dates and dried fish.

  “Are we ready to go?” Claire said when she finished.

  “I know I am.” Harriet tossed a bread crust back onto her plate.

  “I’m all set,” Megan said.

  “Me too,” Rachel muttered through a mouthful.

  “Good. We’ll go as soon as we—”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Megan?” a man’s voice said in a low tone. “It is Theseus, may I come in?”

  “Oh, my gosh,” Harriet squealed. “He’s here to see you.”

  The first thought to go through Megan’s mind was, Me? No way! She didn’t know what to do. “Uh, oh, just a minute.”

  Rachel’s grin was from one ear to the other. “Well, go on, then, get the door!”

  Megan ran a hand through her hair, opened the door and gave the prince a bright smile. “Of course, Your Highness, please. What can I…I, uh, mean we, do for you?”

  The prince bowed his head in greeting as he stepped into the room. “I wanted to see you before you left. And give you a few things.”

  “You’ve already been so kind,” Claire said. “You don’t need to give us anything else.”

  Harriet jammed an elbow in her ribs. “You are too gracious, Majesty,” she said with a flirtatious look. Megan got the distinct feeling Harriet was hoping whatever he brought was sparkly.

  “These are things you will need when you enter the temple.” From beneath his robe he pulled a thin green cord. An ornate gold medallion with a green jewel in the center hung from it. He draped it around Megan’s neck.

  “What’s this for?” Megan turned the medallion so she could see it.

  “It is the mark of my house,” Theseus said. “With it, you may enter the temple and move about without question.”

  Rachel looked puzzled. “Who would ask?”

  “The Guardians. Only certain citizens are permitted in the temple on certain days. Except for the royal house—they may use the temple as often as they desire. You will see the Guardians when you arrive. Show them the medallion and they will let you pass.” He handed Rachel a basket. “This is for the sacrifice. You will need to make an offering to Athena once you are inside.”

  Rachel took the basket. “Thanks.”

  “One more thing.” He stepped out into the hall, and came back holding several pieces of blue cloth. “You will need these.” He handed one to each of the girls.

  “What is it?” Harriet asked. If she was disappointed in the prince’s gifts, she didn’t show it. She held up the small, rectangular piece of fabric.

  “A veil,” Theseus explained. “If you wish to go beyond the public area of the temple, you will need to disguise yourselves as priestesses. All of them wear veils like these. You will be able to go anywhere you wish.” He gave Megan a knowing look. “Anywhere.”

  Megan folded her veil and put it under her arm. It was obvious the prince knew exactly what they were after. “Theseus, thank you. I… We couldn’t have come this far without you.”

  Theseus waved a dismissive hand. “I have also arranged for a servant to meet you at the front gate. Women, especially young women, are not allowed to move through the city unescorted. He will guide you to the temple.” He took each of the girls by the hand and brushed his lips across the knuckles.

  “And now I must leave you. May the gods watch over you and guide you on your journey.” He left the room and closed the door.

  “Give me those.” Rachel held out her hand, took the veils and put them into the basket. She looked at Megan, and knitted her brows. “Did you tell him we’re looking for the crown?”

  Megan got an uncomfortable feeling, like she had been caught doing something wrong. “Uh…no, not exactly. I�
��m pretty sure he knows anyway. Maybe Sir Gregory wrote him in to help anyone who got this far.” Megan thought of how nice Theseus was and wondered if Sir Gregory wrote a little bit of himself into the character. She found herself thinking she would miss him.

  “Oh, okay, then,” Rachel said. She shrugged. “No worries.”

  “Let’s get going then,” Harriet said. “The sooner we go, the sooner we get home.”

  Chapter Twelve: The Temple of Athena

  Megan and her friends walked through the palace. It was surprisingly busy for so early in the morning. Servants and members of the royal family bowed and smiled to the girls as they walked by, but no one asked where they were going.

  Harriet, Rachel, Claire and Megan left the citadel. A boy stood across the courtyard. He leaned against the wall inside the gate, making patterns in the dust with one foot.

  “Hi.” Megan tried to sound friendly. “Are you our guide?”

  The boy looked up. “I am Jason.” He didn’t look at the girls, but over their heads. “I have been instructed to take you to the Temple of Athena.”

  “Thank you for doing this,” Rachel said. “We appreciate it.”

  Jason glared at her; obviously he didn’t consider it a privilege to escort the girls across town, but more like a chore. “Follow me and don’t speak to anyone.”

  He held the gate open for the girls, closed it behind them and walked away without a word. The girls, surprised by how fast the boy moved, jogged to catch up with him.

  Athens was a large and prosperous city. It was packed with buildings—homes, temples, businesses. Sculptures and fountains were everywhere. Jason steered them through the winding streets. Megan was spellbound—the city vibrated with life, with culture and a civilization long since lost. Rachel had to drag her along whenever she stopped to stare.

  “We’re about to enter the Agora,” Jason said over his shoulder. “Stay close to me and don’t dawdle.”

  He led them into a large, open paved square. It was crowded. Booths, overflowing with goods, were set up inside. Megan heard a fishmonger call to passers-by in a loud voice that he had fresh fish for sale. Next to him, a middle-aged couple sold fruits and vegetables. The Agora was a marketplace.