She’d had many guards while serving the Goddess, though she admitted she’d paid them little notice. Something about this man captured her interest. She spent far too much time lingering on his mood, the curve of his smile, his rugged jaw and welcoming grey eyes.
She followed several steps behind him, turning her attention – forcefully – to the journey before them.
The stone of the Acropolis dropped sharply away, jutting from the hillside as if Hades himself had thrust the peak from the Underworld – or so she thought. Athena believed that her priestesses should avoid the main road to the temple, keeping her servants from those with less restrained dispositions. Her priestesses and their protectors had to scale this slippery shale and sand path, barely fit for goats and ever precarious to those who used it.
But the Goddess’ wisdom had led her to select the Acropolis for her temple. With its clean air and soothing sounds, one might watch over the city free from its noise and drudgery. No enemy could invade, by land or sea, without being immediately detected.
She admired the Goddess for such foresight, even if the climb was taxing. Her path was all the more unsteady as she was under layers of linen and wool.
Her guard turned back, ever watchful as she scaled down a steep drop. He did not meet her gaze, but stood waiting. He was gravely distracted, his displeasure evident by the furrow of his brow and the slight flair of his nostrils.
She could not bear it. She drew in a breath and asked, “Is Athens your home?”
“No, lady. My home is far across the sea on the shore of Rhodes.”
“But that is leagues from Athens.” She paused, surprised by his answer. “You traveled here for the Goddess?”
The path interrupted their conversation. He jumped down the sudden drop, sliding. Once steady, he nodded, a slight smile on his handsome face.
“Olympus will reward such fealty.” She regarded him, momentarily distracted by the glint in his grey eyes. “You are loyal to Athena.”
“I am.” His voice sounded strained, she noted, but his smile did not falter.
He offered his arm, the leather greaves allowing such an action. He could never touch her, her skin must remain pure. But she might use his arm, covered, to help her scale such a sheer step.
She watched the muscles of his neck and shoulder flex as he offered her his arm and swallowed. Her heart thumped against her chest, further disconcerting her.
He glanced at her, waiting.
She cleared her throat and shook her head before leaping to the ground beside him. She met his wide eyes, a breathless laugh escaping her.
###
Her laughter stirs my blood. He drew a steadying breath.
Her eyes gazed into his, threatening his fragile control.
“I’ve heard of Rhodes’ fair waters.” Her curious blue gaze mesmerized him.
I am a cursed fool.
His voice was gruff, “I’ve never seen a lovelier shore.”
“What a sadness.” She sounded wistful. “To be so far from such beauty must leave an ache within.”
He looked down at her, the corner of his mouth responding to her sympathy. “There are many beautiful things here, lady.” Though I suspect you are the loveliest by far.
His breathing grew shallow as her gaze wandered to his mouth.
Deep lines formed between her brows and her cheeks colored, intriguing him.
“Lady?” What was she thinking?
She shook her head, turning to the city below. “I…” her words trailed off, and she drew a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve never been on the streets of Athens. Is it beautiful? My aunt and uncle tell me it’s a place I must never go as a priestess.”
“It has certain charms. But for you, I fear there would be too little beauty at too great a risk.” He understood why Galenus would keep his niece from the city.
The rest of their journey led them away from Athens proper and towards the estate of her uncle. Their path cut across more gently rolling hills, broken only occasionally by a sudden rock outcrop. These hills were dotted with aromatic maquis bushes, poppies and cistus flowers, alive and in bloom. The cool evening breeze blew the scents about them, turning the evening fragrant.
He remained silent as they moved on, enjoying the sounds of the countryside. A black-headed bunting sang from its perch amongst prickly thistles. The bleating of a distant goat and the faint bark of a dog echoed from a neighboring hillside.
Galenus’ home, their destination, lay before them. Only moments longer and they would arrive – she would no longer have need of him this night. Disappointment settled over him. He didn’t like the feeling, or what it might imply.
She spoke suddenly. “In two days time I shall collect offerings for the Goddess, along the shore.”
He nodded. “For the Festival of Anestheria?” Surely her uncle would expect her guard to escort the priestess and her companion, to ensure their safety. He ignored the anticipation he felt, saying, “I will accompany you.”
She glanced at him, the corner of her eyes creased by a hidden smile. “I warn you now, soldier, on that day we depart before Selene’s moon fades. I would greet the sun as it rises.”
He nodded, pulling his gaze from hers. It should not please him so, to have more time with her.
In truth, such an added distraction should irk him. Readying his men for battle was far more valuable in a time such as this, surely.
And yet, he was not displeased.
“Anestheria is always an important time in the temple. More so this year, I think, as our enemies draw close. Athena’s people need to be reminded of her protection and wisdom, and give thanks for her patronage. My offerings are small things, I know, but such ceremony provides encouragement to her city and its people.” She spoke with care. “It is no great thing when compared to your soldier’s work, but it is all I can give.”
She is a wise priestess for the Goddess of Wisdom.
“You serve Athena well,” he said.
A gust of wind tossed his cloak about him and caught in the dome of his round aspis, lifting the shield. He shifted easily, tightening his grip upon both shield and spear, and turned to find her staring at him with wide eyes. She swallowed, blinked rapidly, and set off along the path with renewed purpose.
They fell quiet as they passed through the gate.
When she spoke, he had to strain to hear her. “When I was a little girl, Uncle Galenus housed some of Athena’s soldiers for a short time. We listened to stories about the fearsome Ekdromoi and the stalwart hoplites – of their courage and prowess. To the amusement of the soldiers and my uncle, my companion Elpis and I tried to heft a shield between us. I remember trembling under its weight. I feared the soldiers were descendants of the Giants. How else could they possess such strength?”
“They were but soldiers, mistress,” he murmured. “A soldier’s weapon is but an extension of his body. It must be, for him to survive.”
Did his strength frighten her?
The Goddess had admired his form. She’d compared him to the beauty of her Acropolis, rugged and strong. When the Goddess had asked him to serve her with his aspis and spear, he’d been both proud and honored.
But Athena’s priestess did not find his form pleasing, or so it seemed.
“I will bring my nets and fish for offerings for the Goddess,” he offered gently. “If it pleases you?”
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 o
f 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, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) Page 2