"You are a most desirable man, my love," Penelope whispered. She put the lamp back on its stand and leaned over him, twining her legs around his. She chuckled when he startled, looking up at her in confusion. "The nymph held you captive, hoping to make you love her."
"That is not how to grow love in a heart," he grumbled.
"You must admit, most men take brides that way. No regard for the girl's wishes. They expect their brides to love them for no reason but that they are married. Did we learn that from the gods, or did they learn that from us?"
"Witch." The last hurting anger fled his face with laughter. He held her tight as he rolled them onto their sides. "You have changed, grown too wise for me. You see into my heart and thoughts, and discern my troubles before I understand them."
"What else is there to do in years of waiting, my love, but to raise your children, tend your house and think deep thoughts?" Penelope smiled to take the unintended rebuke from her words.
"Indeed, what else?" He kissed her, a gentle brushing of his lips over her face. "I am coming to know our son. Tell me of our daughter?"
"She was yours, completely." She let out a small sigh, glad the hurting moment had come so quickly and would be over soon. "Her hair was yours, and her eyes. The quickness of her wit. She understood riddles you taught me as quickly as Telemachos, and she two years younger."
"And who was your favorite child?" Odysseus chided, tightening his arms around her.
"They were both my treasures. It was good she looked so much like you. Before her birth, rumors said I leaped into another man's bed the day you sailed away."
"Who spread such tales?" He pushed away from her, supporting himself on his arms. Anger creased his face, so recently relaxed in teasing.
"Foolish people who had nothing better to think about. Women jealous of my good fortune, men who knew they had no chance to win my heart. All silenced by your daughter's most timely arrival and the color of her hair." Penelope glared up at him, teasing, until he relaxed and lay down again. "You would have been her slave, or fought with her at every turn."
"You think so?" He pressed a light chain of kisses slowly down her neck.
"She was too much like you. Always thinking. Always asking questions. She wanted to know the why of everything. She asked about you, every story I could tell her. She had your stubborn nature. Ktimene wouldn't give up what she wanted. Even if it cost--" Her voice caught and broke.
"There is pain again," he whispered, leaning over her to kiss her eyelids, then the tip of her nose.
"Beloved." She nearly laughed at the old teasing. "I think perhaps it was better the Goddess took her from us. She couldn't have withstood the lies men tell to win a maiden's heart. She had an innocence, despite being all the rebel I never had the strength to be. She would have been miserable as a toy wife. She wanted to serve the Goddess. Very young, she told me the Goddess had called her to be a priestess. Only as a priestess-queen could she have been content. Our world is not made for her kind any longer."
"Our world is made for warriors and battles, and blood spilled for the sake of petty riches and moving boundaries." A choked sound escaped him. Odysseus pressed her close against him. She felt the damp of his new tears.
* * * *
They agreed Odysseus couldn't leave on his final journey until spring. Fall approached with much work to do to prepare for winter. And there were affairs to settle in Ithaka, troubles and alliances allowed to sit idle too long.
Penelope welcomed the storms of winter, the quiet evenings around the hearth. She stayed silent during the long talks, letting father and son grow acquainted and busied herself with spinning and sewing. She told no one of her hope, and whenever the winter storms permitted, went to the Goddess' cave to make prayers and offerings for the child she dreamed of.
Laertes died in his sleep, the first morning of true spring. This was after a long evening of talk and feasting, when the elders of Ithaka gathered in Odysseus' hall and remembered long-gone days of glory. Laertes had sat in the seat of honor between his son and his grandson while the elders spoke his praises. Penelope saw the gentle smile on her father-in-law's face when she came to wash and prepare his body for the funeral rites. She knew his spirit had gone in joy to the shadow lands, with no regrets, no longings, all his dreams fulfilled. She spoke peace to him in the silence of the room after she had sent the other women away.
The funeral pyre was tall and many came from all over Ithaka to put gifts on the wood. Laertes' body lay wrapped in the cloth Penelope had made and many remarked on its beauty. For herself, she was glad to see the bright sheet destroyed, with the memories of suffering it kept alive.
That night, when Odysseus lay sleeping, his arms still tightly clasped around her, Penelope whispered to him that she carried another child. She refused to tell him when he could hear. His new ship lay ready at the shore and she would not delay his final journey any longer. She kept her precious news secret, going daily to Athena's shrine to lay small offerings of thanks, and counted the days until Odysseus' departure.
When he did leave two weeks later, she kissed him farewell, flung a newly-woven cloak around his shoulders and let him walk down to the harbor in his son's company. She stood in the narrow doorway that looked out over the cliffs and the sea, watching for his ship to sail, and her hand rested on her still-flat belly.
"You will return safely, my love. I have dreamed it. The child inside me is the promise," she whispered to the wind.
And when the sail had vanished against the glare of the rising sun on the sea, Penelope turned and went back into the house, to weave more dreams into her loom.
Michelle L. Levigne
Michelle Levigne got her first taste of fantasy fiction with the Cat in the Hat books, and graduated to "harder stuff" with a graphic novel version of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe in a Sunday School paper in elementary school. She has a BA in theater/English and an MA in Communications, focusing on film and writing, along with the 2-year correspondence course from the Institute for Children's Literature. She was heavily involved in fandom for several years and has more than 40 short stories to her credit in various fan magazines and universes, including Star Trek, The Phoenix, Stingray, Highlander, Starman, V, and Beauty & the Beast (live action TV show). Her first professional sale was in conjunction with winning first place in the quarterly Writers of the Future Contest. "Relay" was published in Volume VII. Since then, she has published ten SF/Fantasy and Contemporary romance novels through various electronic publishers, with several books pending future publication. Most of these books are in the SF universe called The Commonwealth. The Bainevah Series is her second foray into historical/fantasy/romantic fiction.
* * * *
Don't miss The Bainevah Series, Book I: 10,000 Suns, a Dream Realm Award Finalist by Michelle L. Levigne, available from Amber Quill Press, LLC
Challen expected to be nothing but a footnote in history, lost in the shadows of her talented, powerful parents. Her father was King's Seer and the voice of a prophecy that had troubled the kingdom of Bainevah for decades. Her mother was a fire priestess, daughter of the High Priest of Matrika--who died for speaking the truth. Challen was more than happy to be her father's assistant, take care of his home, run his errands and carry out his research. She didn't want to marry, unless it was a great love like her parents knew.
She didn't count on men without shadows attacking her, or a prince disguised as a scholar, or demi-gods who used people as tokens in a game of strategy--or the fact that she had been woven into the Prophecy long before her birth...
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THE DREAMER'S LOOM Page 39