Medusa, A Love Story (The Loves of Olympus) Read online

  “It will.” Athena nodded. “But Athens will not fall. It is too strong a city – as Greece is too great a country. You, gentle Medusa, need not let such events cause you fear. Bear such times, and strife, as they find you. Weather them as I would, with reason and wisdom.” As she finished, she rolled up the plans and tucked them into her robes once more.

  When Athena’s brown eyes turned to regard her, Medusa smiled.

  “As for this other matter, I will know the answer to this riddle soon enough. Phorcys is a fool of the worst kind, and you are blessed to be free of him. My uncle…my own uncle chafes when he must yield to me, in any way. I will have Zeus set all to rights.” Athena sighed, regarding her tributes and offering as she continued, “You were wise to share this with me, little one. But do not let it weigh so heavily on you. Hold your head up and remember that you are mine.”

  Medusa straightened at Athena’s words, wishing she might find comfort in them.

  ###

  “You have no claim.” Athena’s brows furrowed and her cheeks blazed with fury.

  Poseidon regarded his niece. Her eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared at his unruffled calm. This was interesting. He schooled his face with care, portraying the picture of compromise, all the while relishing every twitch and shift of her discomfort.

  “I need no claim,” he spoke without heat.

  She turned an alarming shade of burgundy. “To take her from my temple? From my service? She is mine until her parents’ debt is repaid, Poseidon. And, I assure you, I will decide such matters. Not you.”

  “Cease!” Zeus thundered, holding his hands out. “Why this mortal? Why is she the cause of such discord on Olympus?” His angular face grew pinched, his thick arms rigid as he attempted to regain control.

  Poseidon stifled a sigh. His elder brother meddled too often, stealing away his simple pleasures. As all eyes flitted between him and Athena he briefly wondered if Phorcys was worth the effort. One glance at Athena’s florid complexion, her clenched fists and white knuckles, at the vein throbbing prominently from her forehead, and Poseidon had his answer. His mouth tightened, repressing a smile. We will see how this plays out.

  “Medusa is my priestess, Father.” Athena said simply.

  Zeus scowled at Poseidon. “You would interfere in the care of Athens’ temple?”

  Poseidon rolled his eyes. “I would appease a Titan.”

  “And I would collect on that Titan’s debt. A debt yet to be paid in full,” Athena said.

  Zeus regarded his daughter, then his brother. “I am weary of this bickering. Too many times the two of you have battled, hoping simply to best the other.” His eyes narrowed. “Let us have peace, if we may? War is imminent for the Athenians, likely all of Greece. The mortals need our help to defeat the cursed Persians.”

  “Persian dogs,” Ares snorted, lounging upon his throne in boredom. “It will be easy enough to cut them down.”

  “Ares, not all of Athens’ soldiers are skilled. The cost of such a war – the loss of so many husbands, sons and fathers – is no slight thing,” Hera chided him, turning her huge brown eyes upon the God of War.

  “War is war, Hera. Death is part of the journey to glory,” Ares countered.

  “Not all are so eager to find glory,” Hera bit back.

  “Peace.” Zeus lifted his hand, silencing them. “Brother, let the priestess stay with Athena. If Phorcys’ debts to Athena aren’t met, he can hardly ask for favors from you. Knowing Phorcys, whatever service he has performed cannot mean so much. Truly, has he done something of great import for you? ”

  Poseidon hesitated. He could back down and fight anew another day. But the haughty disdain his niece displayed spurred him on. “He has.” His mind worked quickly, knowing the best way to play his weak hand. “But not just to me.”

  “We speak of Phorcys?” Apollo interjected in disbelief. “The same flotsam that delights in mayhem and serves none but himself?”

  Poseidon nodded.

  “How can this be?” Zeus shook his head, doubt and amusement on his regal face. “I’ve known Phorcys to do little but turn into foam to dally with sea nymphs or eat those who offend him in the guise of a shark.”

  “Phorcys did a service to all by swallowing three small Persian ships. He did so, without my request, in order to prevent the ships return to their waiting fleet – with reports on Athens’ reinforcements. He followed them, and when he had the gist of their mission, he acted.” Poseidon looked at his niece. “Wisely, one might say.”

  Athena’s eyes bulged, and her lips pressed to a tight line. A smile threatened, so Poseidon covered his mouth with a discreet cough. His brother, he noted, appeared duly impressed.

  “Such a deed is worth reward,” Aphrodite conceded. “Is there nothing else to be given?”

  “He misses his daughter.” Poseidon shrugged. Yet he knew his words had weight.

  Hera cocked her head. “Indeed?” She cast her husband, Zeus, a beguiling glance.

  Truly, a woman’s power over man is maddening. Poseidon stroked his beard, his eyes flickering between his fellow Olympians with interest. Athena shifted in discomfort while Zeus paced, considering this interesting new development.

  Poseidon envied his brother not a bit.

  To side with him was to appease his wife and her service to home and hearth.

  But siding against Athena would ensure peace was lost for all on Olympus. His niece was most insufferable when she lost.

  And yet Poseidon had painted Phorcys as a noble creature, truly worthy of reward – something Zeus could hardly ignore entirely. If Zeus was taking his time to consider the matter, Poseidon did not blame him.

  “I ask you, dear daughter, to credit this deed towards Phorcys’ debt. Detract this favor from the girls’ time in your service. Then you keep your precious servant for some time yet – a reasonable time, mind you. Poseidon, you have given Phorcys favor, albeit less than what he asked. When Athena releases this priestess, you may give her immortality. Phorcys should be well pleased and remain loyal to the Gods.” Zeus shrugged, laughing. “If he is not then he may return to Hades in the Underworld. I think that would silence any of his protests.”

  General laughter filled the Council Chamber, but Poseidon cared little as he caught sight of his niece. Athena sat back with a smug smile. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him with pleasure.

  Poseidon shook his head. He had no quarrel with Athena, not really, not this time. But she gleefully poked at his pride. She loved nothing so much as to assert herself above him with Zeus – preferably in front of all who sat upon Olympus.

  He could not bear it. It galled him further when she stooped, whispering to the women. She would lord this over him for some time yet.

  Unless he managed to challenge this, she would needle him at every turn.

  So he would steal the taste of victory from her and leave the flavor of bitter defeat instead. He pondered this while the others began to talk amongst themselves.

  Once Zeus decided a matter, they were free to go. And, for those gathered, the matter was done. Talk of war, Sparta, and Athena’s new temple continued about him.

  Poseidon lingered, his mind at work, waiting until his brother was free from the others’ ears.

  “She has an iron will,” Poseidon said when they were alone. He stood at his brother’s side, a rueful smile set on his face.

  Zeus shrugged. “A trait that runs in the family.”

  “If her will is wrong?” Poseidon asked with narrowed eyes. He took care, feigning a serious and concerned air.

  Zeus regarded him closely. “This is more than a dispute between the two of you?”

  No. Poseidon inclined his head, continuing with his pretext of concern. “Phorcys proved himself a fine warrior. None is more surprised than I. But the Persians threaten Athens by sea, and his actions show his fealty to us. Peace between the Gods and the Titans will help the mortals as this conflict with the Persians unfurls. They will need us, as you said, an
d peace on our part ensures aid when needed.”

  Zeus considered the words. “You think Phorcys would deny assistance?”

  Poseidon did not. He knew Phorcys to be loyal, if selfish. In truth Phorcys was an exception among the titans for he lacked the cunning and strategy of his peers. The cause of this gripe had no bearing on the impending war. But Poseidon could not admit as much.

  Phorcys’ wife wanted her daughter home. True, it was not because she was distraught over being separated from her child – Ceto wanted to marry their mortal daughter well and provide them with the grandchildren her other monstrous Gorgon children could not. It was a trivial thing, of no import to Olympus or Athens. But Poseidon knew such truths would hardly help his efforts to foil his niece’s victory.

  “I, for one, believe that we should make and keep our allies where we can. As this war will occupy the seas, Phorcys will be a mighty ally.” Poseidon paused for effect, looking thoughtful as he met his older brother’s eyes. “But perhaps Athena’s temper is a greater threat? This mortal girl must be an uncommon priestess indeed for Athena to hold her so tightly, and on the eve of war.”

  Poseidon watched Zeus’ face harden. Zeus paused, taking a deep breath. “Go, learn what you can. We’ve enough to occupy our time and attention without this Medusa upsetting the order on Olympus.”

  Poseidon nodded, repressing his triumphant smile until he left the Council Chamber. Athena would lose this challenge. He would make sure of it.

  Chapter Three

  The sky was still black. Only the faintest streaks of light glimmered along the distant horizon. Medusa slipped from the house with her cloak pulled tightly about her, a bundle in her hand. The morning was crisp without the sun to warm the air and color the sky.

  But soon the day would begin – a day that promised distraction from her worries.

  She wandered through her uncle’s garden, absently rubbing the leaf of a fig tree between finger and thumb. A sleepy lark chirped in protest as her fingers released the limb, bouncing the lark’s nest.

  She smiled at the bird, whispering, “Forgive me for waking your brood.”

  The high-pitched squeaks of the larks fledglings split the morning. The bird cocked her head at Medusa in a contemplative manner.

  Medusa laughed softly. “I’m not sure I’d forgive me either, little mother, for shattering your rest.”

  The bird turned her attention to her chicks, leaving Medusa to her thoughts once more. Her gaze wandered across the yard, lingering on the dark guards’ house. He would not be awake yet, for all were abed at this hour.

  But her mind had refused her rest. Uneasy thoughts plagued her, spiraling about until she was more exhausted than before she’d lain upon her mat. There seemed little point in staying within the walls of her room when her mind might be better occupied without. Yet, now that she’d ventured out into the relative tranquility of the morning, she felt no relief from her inner tempest.

  While she contemplated a long hike, she knew wandering off on her own would cause distress to her aunt and uncle. She’d caused enough turmoil without adding to it.

  She slid down the base of a fig tree to sit, resting her elbows on her knees. Thoughts of her father, her sisters, Athena, and her unknown future tormented her.

  Athena’s anger was most unsettling. In all Medusa’s years with her Goddess, she’d never encountered Athena’s wrath. In some small way she pitied Poseidon.

  The knowledge that she had no control, no say, in this matter burned like a hot coal in her stomach. What she would give for a moment’s freedom, to do as she wished. It was folly to imagine what could have been if she were not a priestess or the daughter of a Sea Titan.

  But, for a brief moment, she did.

  To be a woman from a family of no import, with little or no responsibility beyond that of daily life to carry out…to just be, sounded as close to Elysium as could be found outside the Underworld. She tried to imagine such a life. To love and be loved, to dance together, to touch a man’s hand or be drawn into his strong, warm arms…

  Her eyes shifted to the guards’ house for but a moment.

  She held her hand out, regarding its delicate bones and pale skin in the waning moonlight.

  She’d never touched a man. Yet she wanted to. She longed to be held tightly, with no hesitance. She craved affection, comfort – and someone to share it with. Not just any man. She could no longer deny the truth in her heart.

  “Lady?” Ariston’s voice was a whisper, but he startled her anyway.

  She stared up at him in shock, blushing even though she knew he could not know her thoughts were of him. Thoughts of being in his arms… Her heart thundered, then seemed to stop altogether as she took in his ruffled appearance, still wrinkled from slumber. He looked young, tousled and only slightly fearsome without his soldier garb. He looked…beautiful to her eyes, but no less a man.

  She could scarcely breathe as his eyes found hers.

  His gaze was warm upon her, so warm she could almost feel his touch. Her stomach tightened and her longing sharpened.

  She forced her gaze beyond him to the golden border widening along the horizon.

  She said softly, “Tis too early, I know, soldier.” She did not look at him as she added, “And yet I’m awake.”

  He remained silent, making her shift uncomfortably. Why did he say nothing?

  “Mayhap the moon, or her Goddess Selene, was calling to me?” she tried to tease.

  She looked at him and instantly regretted it. Standing amongst the silver strands of waning moonlight, he seemed to call to her – her mind and body. And it took all of her strength not to answer.

  ###

  He’d stumbled from his bed to relieve himself, eager to return to the warmth of his blankets. Her silhouette had caught his eye and beckoned him to her side.

  Seeing her without her veils brought him up short. While he’d been rewarded with a teasing glimpse now and then, he’d never had the opportunity to soak her in. He could not have anticipated how it would feel to look upon her.

  In the pale cast of the moon, she appeared as an ethereal nymph. Her honey tresses spilled over her shoulders. The long line of her ivory neck arched as she looked up at him. Her face was…

  He swallowed. There was nothing more lovely on this earth. He knew it.

  “Mayhap the moon, or her Goddess Selene, was calling to me?” Her question, tinged with a hint of sadness, roused him. And when she turned her huge blue eyes upon him, he swallowed the knot in his throat to answer.

  “Perhaps. It is not yet dawn.” He could find nothing else to say.

  Her face softened as a small smile formed. But her gaze wandered from his and her brow furrowed.

  If only he knew how to cheer her.

  Master Galenus’ herder, old Nikolaos, had regaled the guards with quite a tale. Galenus’ home had an unexpected visit from two witches, witches known to this house. They had come with a dire message for the master and his niece, traveling from Corfu to deliver it. While Nikolaos only alluded to the contents of the message, he made it clear that its portent had been most upsetting.

  Ariston had no means to learn the rest of it. If he’d sought the whole of it from Nikolaos, the old man might have grown suspicious. He knew no one else in Galenus’ household, as Galenus refused to acknowledge their presence on his property.

  It was not his place to ask his mistress. No matter how much he wanted to help her, he’d hold his tongue.

  Athena decreed him her protector. He must hold to that, honor his station. Whatever else she might stir within him was a temptation to resist.

  But now, in the shadows of first light, his carefully crafted armor of indifference began to crumble.

  She rose to her feet, sighing with barely repressed impatience. The look on her face revealed her longing. Was she anxious to escape the walls of her uncle’s homestead – to escape whatever burdens may have found her? He would gladly go with her.

  “I fear I’ll miss the
sunrise.” She lifted her head and spoke clearly, brooking no opposition. “Join me when you are ready.”

  She took a few steps towards the gate.

  He couldn’t let her leave, with no guard and uncovered. “It’s not safe, lady. Give me but a moment.”

  She glanced at him, one finely arched brow rising high. “I am Athena’s priestess, soldier. No one would risk Athena’s anger.”

  “Yet not all who reside in Athens serve the Goddess. Not all would honor your service to Athena,” he said softly, imploring her.

  Her shoulders fell, exposing the dejection she felt. The urge to pull her into his arms, to comfort her, rose within him. He took a steadying breath, holding himself in check.

  “You are right.” Her voice dropped. “Even those professing fealty to Olympus dismiss duty and loyalty when it serves their purpose.”

  Ariston again ached from the pain in her words. He spoke quickly, seeking to cheer her. “But they are not here now. They will not ruin this fine morning, will they?”

  “No.” She gazed upon him. “But, I would ask you something, soldier. Today, I am free of the temple, my veil and my robes. So let us pretend that I’m only Medusa.” She started towards the gate. “Then you’ve no need to worry over me and I’ve no need of guarding—”

  He stepped into her path.

  “You need my protection, with or without your priestess garb,” he insisted. “It is not safe for any woman to venture out alone. I pray, mistress, be patient and stay but a moment longer.”

  “I have little patience this morning.” She made to move around him.

  He raised a hand to grasp her shoulder, desperate to stop her. As his hand descended, he remembered himself. It froze a hair’s breadth from her shoulder.

  She gasped and took a quick step back. Her huge eyes stared at his outstretched hand in complete shock. When her gaze found his, he swallowed against the depths of her distress. He had been kicked by his father’s mule once, knocking the air from him. He felt more startled now.

  His hand dropped and his body tensed. What had he almost done? He swallowed, fighting the anger and self-loathing twisting his stomach.