Medusa, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) Page 18

  “I know not. Nor does it matter.”

  “Does it not?”Athena’s eyebrow arched. Her face was taut with tension. “I have something of yours, I think.”

  “Thea?” Medusa searched the temple, Thea’s call faint but audible. “Your gift, and my dearest companion.”

  “Not Thea, though I have her too. She is caged.”

  “Why?” Medusa shared Thea’s betrayal, then. Athena had loved the owl first, before she’d caged her.

  “She attacked one of the guards.” Athena continued to watch at her, with critical eyes. “She blinded him in one eye.”

  Medusa shook her head, stunned. Thea would never attack unwarranted. “She would not…”

  “Yet she did.” Athena held her hand forward, “For this.” The Goddess opened her hand.

  The leather cord was wrapped about the Goddess’ fingers, but the carved owl swung freely. Medusa reached for it, her heart swelling. But Athena pulled her hand away.

  “It is mine,” Medusa heard the pleading of her voice and hated it. It was all she had left of him. “Thea knew it meant a great deal to me. She would have brought it to me…”

  “Do you know where she found it, Medusa?” Athena shook her head. “On the night of that cursed storm my temple was struck dark. My priestess fled, hiding in the robes room as its lamp stayed bright. Once the storm ended, she returned to the antechamber to light the candles.” Her eyes narrowed as she sneered at Medusa. “And on the dais of my temple she saw a man bent over a woman. At first she feared he’d brought someone injured by the storm, for the sounds of groaning and carrying on. Until it became clear that the pair were otherwise occupied. She waited in the shadows, but he would not finish with the woman. And when the sun rose, the man carried the woman out of the temple, leaving this necklace and a plain brown cloak upon the floor. The floor of my temple,” She pointed at Medusa. “My temple, Medusa. The Temple of Athena Polias – chaste and wise.”

  Medusa could not speak.

  She’d not seen anything, a kindness she’d not expected from Poseidon. But she knew now Poseidon had done more than use her body. He had used her as an offense against Athena – an unforgivable offense. “I did not know.” How could she have known? “Why would he do such a thing?”

  Athena laughed, clearly astounded. “Truly, Medusa, your pretense is too much. A man can satiate his lust with you and you remember none of it?”

  “If only that were true,” Medusa pushed her sadness aside, favoring the warmth of her anger. “Dismiss my words as lies. But ask Poseidon. He will preen proudly.”

  Athena’s lip curled in disdain. “Your faithless dalliances are abominable enough. Do not speak my uncle’s name or link him to such perfidy. Even Poseidon would not to do the things you suggest.”

  “Why else would the storm stop?” Medusa asked.

  “Because Zeus willed it so.” She shook her head. “My father sent him to see it done.”

  Medusa mulled this over. “Did your priestess not see Poseidon?”

  “Do you think my priestess would not know Poseidon? That Poseidon would pass unrecognized by anyone? A prouder peacock I know not.” She paused, a look of distaste coloring her cheeks. “He is well rid of you. As is your husband, no doubt well honored by Hades. You are a faithless deceiver, the likes of which I have never known.”

  Medusa’s heart, what little there was left, crumbled.

  She had been another attempt to prod at his niece. Poseidon’s ill use of her, in Athena’s temple, gave him pleasure for his body and fed his feud with Athena. All while keeping him without fault… If he denied it was he, as she suspected, her words meant nothing.

  It was her word against that of a God. Albeit a faithless, lying, and manipulative deity, but still an Olympian.

  She swallowed against the rising anger – and defeat.

  “I’ve done nothing but love, Athena.” Whether Zeus had instructed Poseidon to come, whether her entreaty, her sacrifice, had been unnecessary, she no longer cared – nothing mattered now. “I will take Thea and leave this place. I will go to my father’s house, beyond the Sea River, far from Athens.” She would leave this place.

  “Your father is hard at work on your next marriage contract. Or so it seems.”

  Marriage? Now? More bartering, more humiliation. She was once more a pawn. “May I take Thea with me, Athena?”

  “No,” Athena shook her head. “She will stay here with me, where she belongs.”

  Medusa swallowed this. “May I have my necklace? It is all I have left of my husband.”

  “No. You do not deserve it.” Athena slipped the necklace into the folds of her peplos. “You have shamed him.”

  Ariston’s words filled her heart. The love I have for you gives me breath and strength. You will always hold my heart. Let it give you the strength to do what must be done. For you will be my lady, forever.

  “No, Athena. You have shamed me, and Athens. Your pride has robbed you of compassion or reason. Or you would see the truth of my words. Your power has turned your selfish heart to stone.” She looked upon the Goddess. “I pity you. And the Gods, too. You’ve forgotten those who love you most – those who sacrifice all for your favor.”

  Athena’s face darkened. Her eyes raged, burning a brilliant and fiery red. “You pity me? You have scorned the Gods. You have spoken blasphemy, loudly, in my temple. You will suffer, Medusa.”

  “There is nothing more to suffer.” Medusa felt no fear, she felt nothing. “You’ve taken everything from me.”

  “Have I? We shall see.” Athena shook her head, a hateful smile contorting her elegant features. She touched Medusa’s head, caressing a long lock of her hair. “Wisdom will rule you from this day on, your constant lullaby their serpent’s song. Only those with an innocent heart, women and children, are set safely apart. A heart of stone is your curse to bear as they turn man to stone with their ruby stare. Keep them safe and keep them whole, or to Hades you will send their hardened soul. Your disloyalty brings man’s life to an end, but through your death they live again.”

  A blinding pain crushed Medusa’s head. A thousand tiny daggers gouged into her scalp and neck, needling deeply into her. She shivered, withdrawing from Athena’s touch, but there was no escaping the sensation. Her scalp seemed to split, pulling apart and separating to make room for the pressure that surely crushed her skull.

  “What have you done to me?” she gasped.

  “You will learn in time.” Athena leaned close to Medusa. “But I caution you to avoid those you know and love. Your very presence will bring nothing but pain and suffering.” Athena touched her cheek. “But they will keep you company in your pain and suffering.”

  Medusa flinched, frightened by the way Athena’s words seemed to echo. She swayed where she stood, her head and shoulders sagging beneath an invisible burden.

  She blinked, catching a last glance of Athena. Why did the Goddess look so pained? Her anguish was plain to see…

  And then Athena was gone.

  Medusa gasped as pain lanced her head.

  Her eyes pressed against their lids, as if they were being forced from their sockets. Her vision was distorted, tinged with red and faded in its details.

  A ripple of pain coursed down her neck, then shot up the back of her head again. Her suffering intensified as some invisible coil wrapped about her temples, pressing unmercifully against her tormented skull.

  She bit her lip, catching her cry, as she crept from the temple. Another ripple spilled over her, sharper and hotter than the first. She stumbled down the steps.

  The sun was blinding, each agonizing ray of light searing her eyelids. Her hands came up to shade herself, but she could not stop the pricks of fire that scorched her eyes.

  She could not steady herself. With each step, the throbbing in her head grew heavier -- crippling. The sun was high, punishing her with its brilliance. How then could she feel no heat upon her skin? An uncontrollable shivering began, jarring the ache in her neck and head
enough to make her cry out. The shivering intensified, forcing her to pause. The pain churned her stomach until she retched upon the ground. She drew in breath and set off, slowly.

  The path was too unsteady to scale without careful attention.

  But she could not bear to open her eyes.

  As her foot slipped on the shale stones of the path, she pitched forward. Her hands flailed, but there was no foot or handhold to use to catch herself. She did not see the pointed outcrop of rock, and felt little else once her head struck its corner.

  Her pain and worries were lost in darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  It was dark. But then, no sunlight reached Hades’ house.

  It had taken all of Ariston’s persuasion, and patience, to gain audience. The Judges of the Dead thought him foolish and told him so.

  “You would trade eternal paradise for eternal servitude? For a woman?” Aeacus had shaken his head. “Go forth, stay in Elysium for a few days. This woman will pale.”

  “You are more foolish than most, soldier, to offer such a bargain. Few who shared your journey on Charon’s ship will go to Elysium. You are honored, yet you cast it aside?” Minos sneered, sparing him only the briefest glance. “Hades will laugh at you.”

  “Does Hades laugh?” Rhadamanthys asked, with wide eyes. “That is a sight I’ve yet to see in my time here.”

  “No, he does not laugh,” Aeacus said quickly.

  “I would ask him myself,” Ariston said. “I must try.”

  Minos snorted.

  Rhadamanthys sighed. “Hades’ mood is bleak as of late, soldier. I fear your request will fall on deaf ears.”

  They continued in such a manner until Ariston feared the loss of his temper. But Minos saved him, waving Ariston away with a muttered, “Follow the road.”

  Now he stood in Hades’ dark house, waiting once more.

  Shadows filled each corner, while whispers of things unseen made Ariston tighten defensively.

  He had no time for this. He had to get back to her – he had to get back to his lady.

  The man who entered the room was not what he expected. Hades was tall and well muscled. His face was youthful, with a close cropped beard and smooth, pale skin.

  “You asked for an audience, you have it. Now tell me, where do you belong?” Hades’ voice was deep, emotionless.

  Ariston swallowed. “Athens.” He met Hades’ gaze, but the God revealed nothing to him.

  “Why? You died with honor and glory. Is that not what every soldier wants?”

  “My wife…” His voice wavered.

  Hades brow lifted slightly. “Lives. You do not.”

  “She is in danger.”

  “Earthly danger. She is no longer your concern, Ariston.”

  “The danger she faces is not earthly, but far from it…” Ariston’s voice was hoarse, his desperation mounting. He took a wavering breath before he began again. “She is everything to me. I am proud of my death, but it means nothing if she is in peril. I must know.” Ariston kneeled. “I beg you. I beg you to return me to Athens.”

  Ariston waited, willing himself to be strong.

  “Who is this wife?” Hades asked.

  “Medusa of Athens.” He paused. “Now of Rhodes.”

  Hades was silent, his dark blue eyes regarding him steadily.

  “When I die—” Ariston began.

  “You are dead,” Hades assured him.

  “When I return…die again, I would serve as guardian to Tartarus. I am a skilled warrior, a skill I might offer you.” He spoke with confidence.

  “You vex me,” Hades muttered, the slightest crease appearing between his eyes. “You offer this to me for a woman?”

  Ariston nodded. “She is worthy.”

  Hades was silent again, his eyes shifting to the blue-white flames in the massive fireplace.

  “My words do not…adequately express the love I have for this woman. But I cannot leave her. She is at risk. I must return.” The words came without thought. How could he justify such emotion to a God who reviled affection or companionship? “As Olympus has my arm and sword, she has my heart – a mortal, and perhaps weak, heart.”

  The room was silent for too long. He would have to fight his way out…

  “It is a weakness not reserved for mortals alone, Ariston of Rhodes.” Hades’ words were so soft Ariston feared they’d not been spoken. But Hades continued, strong and clear. “I will return you to your ship so that you may lead your men to victory. Too many have fallen from this war and I would see it end. When that is done, you may go to your wife.” He paused then added, “When you return to my realm, I will have your fealty.”

  The God of the Underworld, Lord of Death, gave him mercy? Mayhap there was one God he might serve with honor.

  Ariston vowed, “You have it.”

  ###

  “It was a wise choice. He is an Ekdromoi. His skill will be needed at Salamis,” Ares said with a nod. “If more could be returned, our odds would be greater.”

  Zeus agreed. “A leader can make a great difference amongst men.”

  “Then we must pray that Ariston is such a leader,” Poseidon said, daring to look at his niece with a smile.

  “Did he show such initiative while serving in the temple?” Hera asked.

  But Athena had not heard Hera’s question, Poseidon could tell. She was staring at him, her face flushed with unspoken fury. She was uncharacteristically quiet, he noted. For one known to love the sound of her voice, her absolute silence was unsettling.

  “He had little chance to prove his prowess while playing caretaker,” Ares snorted. “But I’ve seen him fight. His death was glorious. He will bring down the Persians.”

  “Apparently he has the incentive to do just that.” Hera smiled. “A rare husband indeed.”

  “It is, I think, rare to find such loyalty. Be it mortal or immortal,” Aphrodite agreed.

  “I, too, have seen this Ariston in battle,” Apollo said. “He resembles our Ares – only slightly less immortal.”

  “You’ve done well, Hades.” Zeus praised his younger brother before all.

  Poseidon watched Hades with interest. But no flick of pride or flash of embarrassment colored Hades’ cheek or widened his eyes. His expression remained the same.

  “Then I shall leave you,” Hades said.

  Poseidon rolled his eyes. “You rarely venture to Olympus, brother. Why do you feel the need to quit it already?”

  Hades regarded him. Poseidon eyed his younger brother in return. Had he always hated the perfection of Hades’ face, the mask of aloofness he’d mastered? He was too handsome to be such a sullen creature, and his brother at that. It was the austere set of Hades’ mouth, the clear and disdainful look of his eyes – everything about his brother stirred mischief within him. Provoking some outburst or reaction from Hades would be quite a coup. But it had been years since he’d managed to torment Hades so. And then little other than frustration and irritation had resulted. It had not gone as he’d planned.

  “Have you captured some nymph and stolen her away to the Underworld?” Ares teased.

  “Not that I have seen,” Apollo shrugged.

  Poseidon found it hard not to laugh at such an idea.

  “If the rays of your sun were as well-reaching as the cast of your eye, then Athens’ crops might fare better.” Demeter patted Apollo’s hand. As gentle a rebuff as it was, Poseidon knew her point was made.

  “Can my brother be tempted with sins of the flesh?” Zeus asked, inspecting Hades..

  “You tease him,” Athena snapped. “Is that not excuse enough to leave?”

  All eyes settled on Athena, Poseidon noted. Indeed, she looked greatly troubled.

  “May he prove himself worthy of your bargain,” Ares said. “Ariston, that is. I thank you for returning him to the living, Hades.”

  Hades nodded. “He was most persuasive.”

  “Love can be – most persuasive indeed.” Aphrodite smiled.

  “Or d
istracting,” Demeter countered.

  Hera shook her head. “Love can be dangerous, too.”

  “I have heard,” Hades murmured.

  Poseidon turned, his gaze sweeping the Council Chamber. This group knew nothing of love.

  The Goddess of Love would champion Ariston. She had a weakness for husbands, especially those who cared for their wives. Perhaps it was because her own husband, Hephaestus, openly disdained her.

  Ares was more likely to bed and eat a woman than love her. He smiled at the thought, wondering if Ares had committed anything so heinous. As the God of War, brutality ruled first, raging cock second.

  Hera and Zeus – was there love there? Or a series of relentless challenges and small victories that left neither truly satisfied?

  Of all, Demeter might know. But the love she bore was to her daughter, familial in nature. Such affection was hardly comparable to that of this supposed bond between a man and a woman.

  He suspected he knew the truth. Love was an ideal, a gentler name for a baser need. He’d tasted it, briefly, through Medusa and her husband. He rubbed a hand over his mouth, rolling his neck to ease the sudden tightening of his shoulders.

  Foolish mortals – to entertain such feelings.

  Hades’ gaze fell upon him, his features blank. Poseidon smiled at him, but Hades only blinked and turned away. It was enough. Poseidon was distracted once more.

  Why had Hades freed Ariston from the Underworld? He had never returned a mortal to the land of the living before. Never. Love would be the last reason to return a mortal, for Hades had been injured most gravely at love’s expense. More likely Hades would banish Ariston to Tartarus at the mere mention of such folly.

  Unless something had changed?

  Athena’s fingers drummed forcefully on the arm of her chair, a rhythmic irritation. Poseidon smiled slightly at yet another puzzle to solve.

  Something had upset his petulant niece to the point of silence. He had yet to decide if this was a winning development or not. But he looked forward to finding the reason.