Medea (54 page)

When the tale had meandered to the conclusion - Nauplios and Medea returning to Colchis to put Aetes back on his throne - Idanthyrsus belched and remarked, 'It was all wasted, comrade, all that valour and all that skill. The princess betrayed her family and lost her own children, and the Golden Fleece did not even buy Jason his father's kingdom. Now all that you can do is try and return things to the state they were in before the
Argo
came through the Clashing Rocks.'

He was right, of course.

I was pleased to wake the next morning without the headache I had deserved. Kore and Scylla had lapped some of the kermiss, and were still asleep, paws ridiculously in the air and tongues lolling. I wondered if dogs got hangovers as I sipped the barley broth which a Scythian warrior made for us.

I saw Medea, riding fast across the open glade, high on the horse's shoulders. Her hair blew back from her face and she was urging her steed onto greater efforts.

'She is beautiful, your woman,' said the Scythian.

To Achaean eyes he looked like a barbarian; half-naked, scarred and shiny with oil. His hair was braided with feathers and a necklace of what were probably human teeth was strung around his neck. He was the husband of Iole who had first greeted my lady. I knew enough of the world now not to judge by appearances, so I did not take offence but agreed. Medea my lady was indeed beautiful.

'Scythling, they call her,' he said. 'You will not be able to make her live all her life in a stone city, comrade.'

'No,' I said. I wondered where we would live. I doubted that the princess would be content in a fisherman's hut, assuming that they had fishermen on this coast. But the savage was correct. No one who had seen that blue-and-black figure flying past on a Scythian mount could imagine that Medea would be happy if she were secluded again.

I was leaving it up to the gods, with a certain amount of trepidation.

Two days later a wagon rolled into the Sauromatae camp, to a ritual display of hair-raising insults, and three people were lifted carefully down by a scowling Scythian driver. From what the Sauromatae women were saying, this man's branch of the Scyths did not allow women to ride or hunt or fight, and the reasons which were suggested for this were, I hoped, anatomically impossible.

An old man was conducted to a seat on a bank. He was attended by another old man and a woman in a profusion of veils, loaded down with gold crown, necklace, belt and armrings. There were even rings around her ankles and she clanked when she moved, like a soldier in full armour.

Medea, beside me, said, 'That is Eidyia, the queen, my father Aetes, and his counsellor Eupolis. Come with me, Nauplios.'

She knelt at the old man's feet and he squinted at her, trying to focus.

'Hekate's child,' he wheezed. 'Medea. So you came. Tyche said you would come. They have banished me, daughter, and my son is dead, and my daughter Chalkiope and her sons are gone.'

'I know,' soothed Medea. 'Take courage, father. I will contrive something.'

'This is my fault,' said the old king. Sudden tears ran down his furrowed face. 'I gave you to that evil woman when you were a baby, because I could not bear to think of you. But how can a child be guilty of the murder of her mother? It was unjust.

'And then I broke my word to the Achaean; that is the root of all this disaster. Why, there is the Achaean,' he looked at me, puzzled. 'No, that is not the man. Who is this, daughter?'

'Nauplios, my husband. You may greet him, father, he is faithful and honourable and he has brought me here to try and repair this mess we have made between us. Can anyone tell me anything about this Perses? Why did Trioda support him?'

'Because she was losing her position,' replied Eidyia. 'She had no right to curse you or cast you out, and she boasted of it. The other priestesses were intending to remove her from the worship of Hekate. They had already sent to Tyche of the shrine of Hekate Oldest for advice. She had told them that Trioda was no longer a fit servant of the Dark Mother.'

 

This was a fascinating conversation.

'So she joined Perses to keep her ascendancy. And yet if Hekate has cast her out there are certain immunities which she must lose,' I was thinking aloud. 'Tell me about Perses.'

'He is an Asian adventurer,' Eupolis informed me. He had never approved of me, but now he delivered a report such as a warrior brings to his captain: crisp and unemotional.

'He does not want Colchis, just its goods. He has one ship which is moored at Poti, and there most of his men live, levying taxes on the traders who come there. But he and three of his men are in the palace.'

'Yes, all good. But what do we know about Perses himself?' I asked.

The Scythian wagon driver scowled even more than before and growled, 'He is afraid of the dark. He always has a light burning in his chamber at night. We believe he is afraid of vengeful ghosts. He is brave enough against ordinary terrors, but he is scared of the unseen.'

I reflected that the life led by an Asian pirate would probably gather him a goodly company of phantoms who were not all that happy about being in that state. I could not see how this information would help, but it was interesting.

'How do you know this?' I asked the Scyth.

'He stole a Scythian woman,' he said. 'Although our women are not shameless, like some I could mention, they are not defenceless, either. She stayed with him two nights, long enough to discover a way of escape. She had no knife, or she would have killed him for the insult. But she slipped away, and reported to me all that she had seen.'

'How did she get out?' asked Nauplios. We were, I could see, thinking along the same lines.

'Through the queen's corridor,' said the Scyth, and it made sense. Because women must not enter the great courtyard, a covered way had been constructed so that the queen and her ladies could walk unobserved to feasts and to the king's bedchamber. The Scythian woman had crept out of the king's chamber and into the corridor, which led to the women's quarters but also to the bath, which had a door onto the market. The queen's attendants had used it all the time to meet unsuitable lovers, and when I was a child I had slipped out that way to go fishing with the sons of Phrixos. Unless the pirate had found this bolt-hole and stopped it, we had a way into the palace.

'Also, Trioda is always with him,' said the Scyth. 'The black bitch of Hekate, disgrace of her worship, makes sorceries for Perses, prophesying that he will be a great king and the ruler of a people more numerous than the sands of the desert.'

'Hmm,' I said. 'How many warriors could you take to Poti, to seize that ship?'

'As many as are needed. We could have done it at any time - the strangers are careless and no match for Scyths, even female Scyths - but it seemed pointless while Perses held the palace.'

'We will come to Colchis the day after tomorrow,' I told him. 'When that day dawns or just before, when guards are careless and unsighted by the coming light, seize the vessel. Do not kill the crew unless you have to, but remove all their loot and tie them safely, depositing them in the boat.'

'We will do that or die in the attempt.' He spat to seal his word. 'But what of the palace?'

'Leave the palace to me,' I replied.

I gave my father and his wife and counselor into the care of the Royal Scyths again. Aetes was no longer a figure of power and terror to me. He was a sick old man who needed my help. I kissed his hand and went to choose a horse. I was not altogether sure that my plan was going to work, but it had a better chance than battle. The walls of Colchis are strong, and Scyths have no talent for siege warfare.

Nauplios chose a mount the match of mine - for a fisherman's son he was skilled in the judgment of horses - and asked me worriedly, 'What do you mean to do, Medea?'

I told him. He didn't like it, but he considered it had a fair chance of success, which is as much as can be expected in an imperfect world.

We rode that afternoon; Nauplios, me, Iole and Dianthys. The Scythian women were smarting under the insults laid on them by the Royal Scyth. Until the sun was going down they discussed things which they could do to him which they thought would improve his manners, and Nauplios was shocked. We came into the marshes and the mosquitoes immediately descended. Nauplios remarked that they had missed him on his last visit and were now making up for lost time. He expressed concern for them, starving all that time for Achaean blood. Only Nauplios would express concern for a mosquito.

We rode on, because stopping would have driven the horses wild, until we came to the temple where I had served my apprenticeship. It was the last building at the end of a long street, and the wall was low at that side, because no one could bring an attacking army through the mud. We leapt over, the well-trained Scythian horses taking the barrier in their stride, and rode into the temple.

There was no one there. It was dusty and desolate. Trioda, clearly, had not come back to collect her goods when she had moved to the palace to pour flattery into the ear of a tyrant.

'We stay here for a while,' I ordered. The Scyths dismounted silently and began to groom their beasts. I searched among the scrolls for one which I had read many years ago, and lit a small fire to have light to see by and to take the graveyard chill out of the air. No one was likely to enquire as to who was in the temple of Hekate, but I issued tunics and robes to all of us, even Nauplios. He looked very convincing, as long as he kept his hood up, and I told him that I was glad he had not grown a beard.

Then I searched for the recipe, finally finding it in a scroll written almost a hundred years ago by a priestess with an interest in vapours. The ingredients were mostly ready to hand - I even had fresh horse-dung. Then I descended to the underground chamber, to collect some allies and to ask Hekate for her blessing.

The image was covered in spiderwebs, and I wiped it clean and spilled some wine on the statue's feet. I told Hekate what I was intending to do, promising that I would not kill again if it could possibly be avoided. I was done with murder. She must have approved, because her people came gladly when I summoned them.

I cast a very loose, black cloak over my gown and, followed by Nauplios and the Scyths, paced without looking to left or right through the waking streets of Colchis to the market-place door. I laid a hand on it and it gave.

It swung open. Beyond, all was silent. I stepped inside, followed by Dianthys. She swung and stabbed without warning. I heard a choking gurgle and then the thud of a body hitting the floor.

'He was hiding in the alcove,' she said, examining the corpse and prying a sword from the tight-shut fist.

'Is he a follower of Perses?' I asked.

'He was once,' she chuckled. 'Not now.'

The others came in and we pushed the door shut. The palace was unnaturally silent. There should have been slaves about by now, lighting fires and baking bread and heating wine and water for the first meal. The women's quarters were empty. Where had all the people gone? Had Perses already sold them as slaves? Or were we walking into a trap?

He had known about the door; he had set a guard there. Nauplios was reaching the same conclusion.

'I don't think we are going to come as a terrible surprise to Perses,' he commented in my ear.

'Perhaps not,' I said.

There was a flurry of movement, then another of those choking gurgles. Iole lowered the body onto a bed. She had stabbed him messily through the throat and he was bleeding freely.

'Perses again?' I asked.

'Was,' she said laconically.

I had promised the goddess that I would not kill deliberately again, and my word was being eroded. We passed the corridor without challenge, however, and the king's bed chamber was before us. As the Scyth had said, it was brightly lit by at least three oil lamps, I guessed.

I touched the door and a sword swished past my wrist. The swordsman was silently dispatched. The third man had just died, and there should only be Perses himself in the king's chamber.

I knelt and lit my firepot with a carefully reserved coal, and at once a cold, evil-smelling smoke poured forth. It was heavier than air because it was made of sulphur and herbs and horse-dung, and it crept under the bedchamber door. I gave him a few moments to notice.

I heard someone sit up abruptly and exclaim in a language which I did not know. That was something I had not thought of. I needed to speak to this usurper.

Nauplios whispered, 'It's a form of Mysian. I know it, do you?'

'No. You'll have to come with me. Quick. Smear your face with this.' I passed over a pot of the salve which we use against midges. It lends the skin a green cast which is very disconcerting, making even my dear Nauplios' honest countenance look eerie.

I opened the door very slowly. A tall man with black hair was sitting up in bed, wide-eyed. But it was not Perses who held my attention. It was Trioda. She was standing by the wall, her feet hidden in my smoke.

'Medea,' she hissed. 'I thought it might be you, cursed daughter, playing tricks in the night.'

'You were right,' I agreed. I dropped the outer cloak. The three-legged cross shone on my breast. 'I am and always was a priestess of Hekate,' I told her. 'I never left her. She has accepted me again.'

'Why are you here?' she snarled. 'You left this place for another, and abandoned your faith and your father. Are you now here in his cause?'

'I am. Does the tyrant understand Colchian?'

'No,' she snarled.

'Why not just kill him?' suggested Iole, the Scyth, behind me. "Easy. I could do it from here.'

I did not have time to explain that killing one adventurer would only remove him, wheras a terrified pirate fleeing for his life without a coin to show for his efforts would preserve Colchis from similar assaults for some time.

I simply said, 'No,' and she accepted this.

Ignoring Trioda, I walked to the foreigner and spoke to him, while Nauplios' voice made the translation behind me. Instead of being comic, this made the scene more alarming, as though two voices with one mind were in the room.