Nobody's Prize (14 page)

Medea’s eyes lit up with a blazing hunger. She was no longer the same girl who’d cowered at Lord Aetes’ stern words. The change was so abrupt, so complete, that I felt a stab of fear, for her sake.
It’s like she’s got two spirits living in one skin,
I thought.
How does she keep them from tearing her apart?

She dragged me back into the palace and through many hallways until we came to a door painted with jewel-bright dragons and studded with polished bronze. A boy dozed against one of the doorposts. Medea gave him a kick to rouse him and said something sharp to him in her own language. White-faced, he flung the door open before us, then bolted away as if he’d caught fire. We entered a high-ceilinged chamber, sumptuously furnished, lit by a forest of tall braziers. Three harried serving women were hastening to kindle the last of these. When they saw Medea, they bowed so low, so swiftly that I thought they’d snap in two at the waist. She gave another command and they fled the room in an instant. I could almost smell their terror as they flew past me.

Does Lord Aetes know his little mouse can wear a wolf’s skin when she wants to?
I wondered.
Or is this other self something beyond even her control?
I had no answer to that, only a growing sense of misgiving.

Medea pulled me over to an elaborately painted couch and made me sit beside her. She undid one of her necklaces and forced it into my hands. “I owe you a better gift than this for what you’ve just given me,” she said passionately. “From this moment, you are more sacred to me than any guest. You will be my beloved sister.”

“Lady Medea, I’ve only told you the truth. I’ve done nothing to merit this.” I tried to give her back the necklace.

She wouldn’t have it back. “Then take it as a reward for what you
will
do for me.” A thoughtful look came into her eyes. “You come from
his
lands. You know what women there do to attract a man. You will teach me.”

I didn’t like the way our conversation was going. Even though she kept her voice soft and coaxing, she wasn’t asking for my help, she was demanding it. “Lady Medea, I don’t know about such things.”

“You wouldn’t need to, would you?” Now her expression was hard and bitter. Her moods shifted at a frightening rate, and my apprehension grew with each change. “You don’t need to do anything but breathe and the men flock to you, ready to die for your sake.”

“That’s not true. You heard how I came here. No one questioned my disguise for an instant.”
Except Argus,
I reminded myself.
And perhaps Orpheus too, though he never came out and said anything about it directly. But she doesn’t need to hear that.
“Besides, I have other things to occupy my days: hunting, riding, racing, practicing….”

“I can’t learn how to do all that before Jason leaves!” she wailed.

“I’m not saying you should,” I told her. “I doubt such skills matter to Jason, or any other prince, when it comes to choosing a bride.”

“Is that why he’s come here?” Medea’s dramatic despair became wild-eyed hope. I wished I could get away from her. I didn’t want to come face to face with whatever lay at the core of so many abrupt transformations. “He wants to marry? But that’s wonderful! I’m the only one left. He’ll have to choose me!”

I hesitated. I dreaded her reaction once I told her the true purpose of Jason’s voyage to Colchis.
Best to get it over with.
“He hasn’t come to Colchis for a bride,” I said. “He’s still a prince without a throne. That’s why he’s here, to bring back one of the famous gold-filled fleeces of Colchis. Lord Pelias of Iolkos has promised to set aside his own son, Acastus, and make Jason his heir if he fulfills that quest.”

To my relief, Medea didn’t burst into tears, curses, or worse. Instead her expression turned thoughtful again, and then she actually lifted one corner of her mouth in a half-smile. It was like watching a serpent raise its head to strike. “A golden fleece? I can give him that,” she said. “I can give him the best of them all.”

“He’ll be happy to hear that,” I said. “You can tell him so in the morning.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” Medea hid her face in her hands and giggled. “You must be there with me, Atalanta. I wouldn’t be able to say a word if I was alone with him. And we must see him secretly. If my father knew, he’d lock me up again.”

Again?
I wanted to ask what she meant, but with Medea, perhaps there were some riddles better left unanswered. I assured her that I would do whatever I could to help her. She gave me a ferocious hug, then ran to the doorway and shouted for her servants.

I was given a small room in Medea’s apartments and soon I settled comfortably into the thickest, most sweetly perfumed bed I’d ever known. I should have fallen asleep at once, but my thoughts kept me awake. I was haunted by the memory of the harsh, critical way her father had treated her before us all.

Is there
anything
about her that pleases him? He praised her skill with herbs and potions, but otherwise he made it plain that she’s a disappointment.
I recalled the immeasurable affection my own father had always given me and felt deeply sorry for Medea. I’d heard stories of famine years, and how starvation could deform the body.
If you starve the heart, do you deform the mind?
That might explain why she’d attached herself to Jason with such an intense, all-devouring passion, but suspecting the cause behind Medea’s behavior didn’t make it any less alarming.

I’d better try to get some sleep,
I thought.
I’ve got the feeling that I’ll want to stay alert as long as I’m anywhere near Medea.

I shifted onto my side, facing the wall, and was just beginning to drift off when I got the abrupt, startling sensation that I wasn’t alone. I turned over quickly just in time to catch sight of a shape clinging to the doorpost. It fled with a gasp when I started up from my bed. It might have been no more than one of the servants, but I had the disturbing feeling it was their royal mistress. I wasn’t able to fall asleep again until just before dawn.

         
9
         

THE GIFT OF HECATE

I had barely dozed off when Medea shook me awake much too early the next morning. Her face was drawn, her eyes feverish. “Can you fetch him now? Now, before my father finds out? I’ll show you where I’ll be waiting, then you can bring him to me.”

I sat up, rubbing my weary eyes. “I don’t know where to look for Jason,” I replied.

She ground her teeth so hard that I could hear it. “Don’t lie to me. You’re wasting my time with your excuses. Come!” She dug her fingers into my wrist and would have yanked me from the bed onto the floor if I hadn’t braced myself.

“Stop that!” I ordered her, pulling my hand away. “What’s the matter with you? One moment I’m your sacred guest, your beloved sister, and the next you’re acting like I’m one of your slaves. I won’t let you treat me like this.” I was too sleepy to worry if my bluntness might send her into a rage.

I was lucky. Instead of storming at me, Medea was immediately sorry, though I knew her heartfelt apology might turn into a fresh spate of false accusations at any moment. I got up and dressed as fast as I could. She’d done everything but grovel, yet I’d caught an icy glimpse of malice in her eyes.
The less I thwart this girl, the healthier I’ll stay,
I thought.
How does she manage to make my heart break and my skin crawl at the same time? O gods, grant me some way to escape her “hospitality”!
She took me out of the palace and past humble outbuildings protected by the citadel enclosure. The smell of cookfires was already on the fresh morning air. Slaves and servants trotted busily to and fro as Lord Aetes’ stronghold stirred itself from sleep. None of them seemed to regard it as strange to see their princess roaming the grounds outside the palace. The building she sought looked like a potter’s shed, with the oven for baking the clay pots beside it. There was a scattering of broken crockery in front of the doorsill. Medea stooped and examined it keenly, then stood up and smiled at me as if I understood all her secrets. “No one has been here. We can enter.”

She opened the door and urged me to follow her. I did so, and soon found myself deep in stench-haunted shadows. I groped behind my back and was reassured to feel the door. Just then, a spark flared in the darkness. Medea had kindled a fat wick stuck into a cup of tallow. It burned with more smoke and stink than lamps fed with olive oil, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“You will bring him here,” she said. “Hecate herself will stand witness to all we say to one another. But not yet. First I must worship the goddess who has answered my prayers.”

She gestured with the flame and I saw a waist-high block of stone at the rear of the little hut. The image resting on it was made from rock so black it seemed to gulp down any light that fell on it. It was a carving of a three-headed goddess, though only one head was human. The other two were those of a wild horse and a viciously snarling dog. A serpent encircled the goddess’s waist. One of Hecate’s hands held a torch, the other a sword.

I knew Hecate’s name. I’d known it long before Argus mentioned her to me when speaking about his stepmother. Even if we didn’t worship the goddess willingly in Sparta, my parents still made the occasional sacrifice at her shrine to protect us from her anger. Some believed she was only another side of Artemis, who changed her appearance and entered the underworld on nights when the moon was dark and dead. Others said she was a goddess in her own right, the ruler of wild and haunted places. Even Zeus feared her powers, for she was the mistress of magic strong enough to undo the normal order of the world. As I gazed at the image, Medea placed the burning cup at its feet and took a small, covered pot from among dozens crowding the top of a table propped against the sidewall. A knife lay there as well, its leaf-shaped blade mottled with stains. I tried not to think about what might have made them.

Medea removed the lid of the little pot and a cloying sweet smell fought the stink of burning tallow. She held it out to Hecate’s image and chanted words I didn’t understand, then set it down and turned to me. “Hecate is pleased. You can go now. Bring Jason. I’ll be waiting.”

I couldn’t get out of that hut fast enough. I shut the door behind me and stumbled over Medea’s telltale pottery shards in my haste to flee. I had no intention of fulfilling her command. I’d fallen in love with Hylas at first sight, but now I saw how different those feelings of mine were from Medea’s unhealthy fascination with Jason. She and I had both been attracted to a handsome face, but I’d seen Hylas as human, not as something I had to
own.
Which god had twisted her mind so badly? Not gentle Aphrodite, surely! I didn’t know much about love, but I was willing to wager all I had that Medea’s passion was something else. It was all-consuming, terrifying, and utterly unwilling to hear the word
no.
I wondered if her cold father had somehow taught her that the only way to hold on to what you loved was to embrace it so tightly that you crushed it.

I ran to find Jason. He had to be warned. I didn’t know where to start looking for him. Lord Aetes’ palace was huge. It was no use asking the servants for help, since none of them were likely to speak our language. I wandered through courtyards and passageways until I heard the faint sound of familiar voices, familiar words. I followed them to a large room strewn with bedding and the remains of breakfast. My own stomach rumbled as I watched some of the
Argo
’s crew picking over bits of bread and cheese while they talked.

I was overjoyed to spy Milo among them. He caught sight of me and came running to the doorway. “Glau—I mean, Hel—
Atalanta,
there you are! I—” He dropped his voice sharply so that no one else could hear him say, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said as I led him off. The other men catcalled after us, but we ignored them. “Listen, do you know where Jason is? I have to find him.”

“Lord Aetes gave him a fine room on the upper floor,” Milo said. “I’m not sure where, exactly. Let me help you.”

We had no better luck working together than I’d had on my own. When we finally agreed to give up the search, I told Milo about the night I’d spent in Medea’s disturbing company, and about the strange shrine to Hecate that was her den. “I guess I’d better let her know I failed to find Jason,” I said as we left the palace and walked past the outbuildings.

Milo tapped my arm. “It looks like she found him herself.” He motioned with his eyes.

Arm in arm, Jason and Medea came strolling along, laughing and talking as though they were old friends. Slaves and servants ignored them, but four Colchian guards shot disapproving stares. Medea noticed and spoke a few sharp words to one of them. The man turned white and ran.

“Ah! Atalanta!” Jason saw Milo and me standing there and waved us near. “You must see the marvel that Lady Medea’s just shown me.”

He gave her an adoring look so overdone that it wouldn’t have fooled a child. She devoured it. I’d done much the same thing to him earlier, when I’d diverted his attention with flattery about that leopard-skin trophy of his. Still, there was an important difference: I’d acted to divert his anger from my friend Argus. He was acting for no one’s benefit but his own.

“Of course she shall see it, if that’s what you want, Lord Jason,” she said, indulging him with a king’s title. “Follow me.” She released his arm reluctantly. There were little white finger marks where she’d clutched his flesh. In one agile maneuver, she shunted Milo aside, got a painful grip on my wrist, and raced away with me.

“I didn’t need you after all,” she whispered triumphantly, keeping us well ahead of the others. Her eyes sparkled with a wild light. “As soon as you were gone, Hecate spoke to me. She told me not to trust any other girl when a man’s love is the prize. You can save the rest of your lies. I left the shrine and found him walking toward me, a gift from Hecate herself! He’s mine now, mine always. Remember that.”

Well, that was fast,
I thought.
I wonder if Jason knows. I almost feel sorry for him. Medea might have the power to terrify the palace underlings with a few words, but Jason’s a free man, able to look out for himself. What’s the worst she could ever do to him?

Medea led us to another part of the citadel enclosure, a space set aside by a low stone wall. Three small shrines stood inside the little barrier. Two were no more than four pillars supporting the roof over a god’s image. The third boasted sturdy walls, gorgeous decoration, and everything it took to declare that this was the home of the king’s favored god.

An ancient priest dozed in the shade of the building as Medea led us inside. She dropped my hand and reattached herself to Jason before announcing, “This is Ares’ shrine. My father worships the war god above all others. Every year, when the spring rains bring the gold down from the mountains, he dedicates one fleece to every shrine in Aea, but Ares alone has
that
.” She pointed dramatically.

I looked up at the wall behind the statue of Ares and saw a masterpiece of solid gold. It was the perfect life-size image of a ram’s pelt, including the head, horns, and hooves of the beast. Every detail, down to the smallest strand of wool, was etched into the soft, glowing metal.

So the Golden Fleece exists after all,
I thought, breathless with wonder. The ram gazed back at me with enameled eyes the color of the sea.

“It was a gift from Phrixus, to thank my father for giving him refuge, a home, and a royal bride,” Medea said. She squeezed Jason’s arm. “Now it will be a gift of thanks
from
a bride to her beloved husband.”

Jason looked down at the Colchian princess and smiled. “Are you certain your father will part with it? After all, I’m already taking his best treasure with me when I go.” Medea giggled.

As promised, that night, Lord Aetes lavished a fine feast on us to welcome back his grandson Argus. Jason, of course, behaved as if it were all to glorify him. Though Colchis was a foreign land, they followed some of our customs. The closer you were seated to the king, the more respect he meant to show you. Argus and Jason were placed to either side of Lord Aetes, which left Jason sour-faced over having to share the highest honor. His expression grew even more resentful when he glanced at his cousin, Acastus, seated next to Argus.

I noticed other customs that were purely Colchian. As each dish was brought to the table, a group of handsomely dressed men stepped in to taste the food. They also tasted the wine, and examined the knives and spoons used to serve the meal. I wondered what it must feel like, knowing that your life could end with the next mouthful you swallowed. And what sort of mind could be both so clever and so cowardly as to kill by tainting the good gifts of Demeter and Dionysos? If the stories were true, Colchis did harbor monsters.

Medea and I were seated together, among the other palace women. She hardly ate a bite all evening, her eyes fixed on Jason. I tried to talk with her, but she refused to be distracted from him.

When the banqueting was finished, Lord Aetes called for silence. “My friends, it’s thanks to you that I’ve been reunited with my beloved grandson Argus. It’s not my way to ask the true purpose of guests who come to me in peace until they’ve had ample time to rest and refresh themselves. I believe that moment has come. I invite you to share the reason that’s brought you to Aea. If I have the power to help you, I’ll do it freely.”

Jason was on his feet at once. He launched into a long-winded, self-exalting history. He took credit for every successful adventure we’d experienced on the voyage to Colchis. He did toss a few crumbs of praise to some of the men, granting them minor parts in his own fabricated triumphs. Zetes and Kalais were credited with driving off the Harpies, but only after Jason commanded them to do it! When he saw that Lord Aetes and the Colchian nobles were thoroughly fascinated by his wild tale, he finally revealed the object of his quest.

“A golden fleece?” Lord Aetes was all smiles. “Only one? That’s hardly a fitting reward for your accomplishments. You and your men shall have one apiece, I insist!”