Nobody's Prize (9 page)

“True.” I raised the cup to my lips and drained it. “I want to talk with you. There’s a question I want you to answer about this ship, that’s all.”

“That’s more than you’ll get. I’m busy.” He tried to push past me.

“Too busy to repay your debt?” The words flew from my mouth.

Argus stopped and turned back to face me. “What debt?”

“The one you owe me from the Clashing Rocks, when I saw to it that your ship passed through unharmed.”

For the first time, I saw Argus’s lips lift at the corners. “Don’t you mean ‘Prince Jason’s ship’?”

“I know what I said.”

His smile grew a little wider. “You’re a funny one. That’s good. Men hunger for entertainment on long voyages. So I owe you for this ship’s well-being, do I? That’s a grand debt for a fingerling like you to hold over me. How do you figure it’s yours to claim?”

“I kept that captive girl from throwing herself into the waves,” I replied. “Without her, the
Argo
never would have reached the Unfriendly Sea.”

Argus snorted, but he was still smiling. “Do you know who I am, boy?” I nodded. “Then you know where I’m from, and that our course holds no surprises for me. Don’t you think I knew about the Clashing Rocks and had provided a way for us to pass through them, even without old Lord Phineas’s ‘gift’?”

“What did you bring?”

“Much the same thing as you’ve got right there.” He pointed to the small pouch I carried at my belt. “I’ve got five just like that, all stowed away safe in case of need. If that much gold and silver wasn’t enough to satisfy the bandits, I’d’ve handed over
your
pitiful little sack of treasure as well. Hades take those vultures, I’d’ve given them
you
to save this ship!”

I cupped my hand around my belt-pouch. “How do you know I’ve got anything valuable in here?” I asked.

“My ears are like Lynceus’s eyes. I can hear rot in a ship’s timbers, and the rumble of a coming storm. Hearing gold and silver jingling in a young sprat’s pouch?” He snapped his fingers.

“The jingling could be nothing more than seashells and pebbles,” I countered.

Now he laughed. “And why would you want to carry
that
trash? No, you can’t fool my ears—” He leaned close and, in a voice for my ears alone, added,
“—lass.”

My mouth went dry and I could hardly draw a breath. “That’s not funny,” I rasped.

He threw his arm around my neck as if we were old friends and drew me closer. “Now, now, don’t be a fool,” he whispered. “I know what you are. A voice like yours gives it away to anyone with the ears to hear it. There’s no hint that it’ll ever break and deepen, the way a real lad’s does.”

“That’s the flimsiest, most unbelievable—”

“Unbelievable, is it? Yet if I go to Jason, claiming it’s so, and telling him there’s an old sailor’s belief that women bring bad luck to voyages, he won’t hesitate to put you to the one test you
can’t
bluster your way out of.” He savored my distress for five breaths, then cackled and said, “But don’t worry, I’m not about to tell a soul.”

“What do you want from me?” I muttered.
Because you’re not going to get it.
My hand strayed to the hilt of my sword.

He chortled softly. “Look at that stormy face! Don’t worry, I don’t want you to share my bed. I like my women ripe and plump as pomegranates, not skinny, nor young enough to be my daughter. I told you, long days at sea can be tedious. You’ve amused me, and you’re the first person here who’s spoken to me as a man, not a net to snare the Fleece. I’ve heard you called ‘Glaucus,’ true?” I nodded. “Well,
Glaucus,
I only want two things from you: one, your promise to do what you can, by choice or chance, to keep me diverted during this voyage.”

“Given. And the other?”

He released me from his hold and grinned like a man who needs to practice at it. “Your question. The one I must answer to repay you for saving that girl and our ship. Ask it.”

“The carvings on the prow,” I said, pointing forward. “There’s one that’s the face of a young woman. Who’s it supposed to be?”

I earned another of Argus’s rare smiles for that. “Depends who you ask. Jason ordered me to give him Hera, queen of the gods. But I carved the face of the one who’s to blame for me going back to my homeland after all these years.” His smile dimmed. “She said if I went home again, I’d die.”

“Then why did you agree to—?” I began.

“She said if I
didn’t
go home again, I’d live a long life, but a forgotten one, and I’d die without ever having another sight of the sea.” Argus scratched a few flakes of sunburned skin from his balding head. “What could I do? I swore I’d go. When the Pythia speaks, only fools don’t listen.”

         
6
         

A SACRIFICE TO APHRODITE

Argus was right about how a ship’s routine made her crew avid for diversion. In the evenings, more and more of the men drifted over to our campfire because Orpheus was there. The god-gifted Thracian was always good for a song, and Herakles was always good for a bragging tale about his own exploits.

I loved listening to those stories, but so did everyone else. More than once I had to creep away from the fire when I saw Castor and Polydeuces coming. I hated crouching in the shadows, waiting for them to have their fill of songs and stories before returning to their own fireside. One night when the moon was bright enough, I took myself far down the beach, along the water’s edge, drew my sword, and began dueling an imaginary opponent. I deliberately chose the place where the water lapped the shore, because the sodden ground was unstable. I’d have to pay attention to my footwork as well as how I wielded my blade or risk a tumble. It wasn’t the most useful training, but it was exercise, and better than lurking in the dark.

“Want a partner, Glaucus?” Hylas’s soft words took me by surprise. I whirled around in a spray of sand and brine. He stepped forward, sword in hand.

My blood pounded in my ears. A chance to practice swordsmanship with Hylas? A chance to match my skills against those of a lad trained by great Herakles himself? The idea thrilled me. Better still, it was an opportunity to win the respect and approval of the one boy I wanted to notice me. Things had gotten to the point where the mere sight of Hylas sent my imagination flying wild. I was convinced that his notice, respect, and approval would
have
to lead to more…someday.
Someday when you can let him know that you’re a girl,
I told myself.

“I’d love that, Hylas,” I blurted. Suddenly a cold wave of reality crashed over my head and I sighed. “But we can’t.”

“Why not? I’ll go easy on you.” He chuckled.

I didn’t. “If we practice, everyone’ll hear the sound of swords clashing and come running up to watch the show.”

“So? Let them come.”

“Including the Spartan princes?” I reminded him.

“Oh.” His face fell. “You’re right, I guess.” He sheathed his sword reluctantly. I did the same. “Gods above, Glaucus, isn’t there any hope that you and the Spartans could settle whatever’s bad between you? What did you
do
to them?”

“Don’t ask me to talk about that,” I said.

“I’ll bet Milo knows.” I didn’t reply, hoping he’d drop the matter, but he went on to say, “You’re not denying it. Glaucus, I accept that you and I can never be as close as you and Milo. You two share a homeland and you’ve traveled together all the way from Calydon. There’s a strong bond between you, one I don’t want to interfere with, but—but—” He looked up, and moonlight turned his perfect face silver. I wanted to kiss him, then and there. “—but I thought, I
hoped
that we weren’t just shipmates. I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” I murmured.

“Then why can’t you
talk
to me? I want to help you! Glaucus, please—” He grabbed my arms and squeezed them hard. I was breathless, all of my romantic dreams flooding over me at his touch.

“Hylas, I—”

“Well, what do we have here?” Thunderous laughter rolled over our heads. Herakles stepped in, threw his mighty arms around our shoulders, and separated us effortlessly. “If I were you lads, I’d pick a more secluded temple to worship Aphrodite.”

“That’s not what we were doing!” I cried. My face was aflame from hairline to neck.

“We wanted to practice with our swords,” Hylas added. His unintended crude joke twisted my stomach with fresh embarrassment and made Herakles laugh so loudly that a crowd of the
Argo
’s crew took notice and started toward us from the campfires. I didn’t wait to see if my brothers were among the curious. I ran, and I didn’t stop running until I had the bulk of the
Argo
between me and everyone else. After a while, when the noises from shore subsided, I peeked around the ship’s prow and watched the men drift back toward their own fires.

“What do you think, Eunike?” I whispered to the starlit face of the carved Pythia looming above my head. “Do you think it’s safe for me to go back?” I calmed myself by imagining that my friend was really there to hear me.
Go back, Helen,
Eunike’s voice whispered through my mind.
Back, but not to your own campfire, not with Herakles there. You know him, he’ll keep making those “jokes” about you and Hylas all night! If you want sleep, find your bed elsewhere.

As I walked back toward the fires on the beach, I noticed one in particular, far smaller than the others, set apart, with only one man beside it. I approached curiously and recognized the Colchian shipbuilder himself, all alone.

He hadn’t lied about those accursed keen ears of his. I thought I’d been moving cautiously beyond the firelight, with a hunter’s tread, but he looked in my direction at once and said, “Do you want to talk or do you want to stare out of the darkness like a scruffy little owl?”

“I
want
to sleep.” I came into the firelight. “But I wouldn’t say no to talk, or to a good story.”

“A story?” His grizzled eyebrows rose. “Don’t you get enough of those from that muscle-bound Theban?”

“I’ve had my fill of Herakles’ words for the day,” I replied, sitting down beside him. “The only tales he tells are about himself.”

“What sort of story would you rather hear?”

“Tell me about your home,” I said. “Tell me about Colchis and the Fleece.”

“Haven’t you heard all about it already? The flying ram that saved my father? The unsleeping dragon that guards the Golden Fleece? Jason spins that yarn all the time, as if it belongs to him.”

“That’s why I’d rather hear it from you, Argus,” I said. “I want the truth.”

“And you know you’ll never get that from Jason, eh? Smart…boy.” His clumsy grin winked briefly in the firelight before he began his tale. “My father and his sister, Helle, did escape a stepmother who was plotting to kill them, but solely thanks to their old nurse’s husband. He was a Phoenician merchant whose ship was called the
Ram,
bound for the gold trade at Aea, chief city of the Colchians. He smuggled the children aboard and that was that. Poor Helle was lost overboard in a storm, but my father arrived safely, dressed like the prince he was. He grew up to marry the king’s oldest daughter, who died when I was born.”

“So you’re a Colchian prince, Argus?” I said.

“Am I?” His face clouded. “Let’s just say that my father’s troubles with his stepmother taught him nothing. Once we reach Aea, you’ll hear rumors about how the royal women worship the dark goddess Hecate, how they’re all sorceresses, witches, and expert poisoners. Well, sly words can be poison, too. I was scarcely older than you when Father’s second wife tried to have
her
son inherit everything. She ripped her dress, battered herself black and blue, then yowled that I’d ravished her. My father didn’t seek proof nor let me defend myself, he just told me to be thankful he was limiting my punishment to exile.” Argus gave a humorless chuckle. “He didn’t spare my life out of fatherly love. Lord Aetes would kill him if he shed the blood of a royal grandchild.”

I gazed into Argus’s weathered face and saw nothing but remembered pain and betrayal in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

He gave me a hug so swift that it was over before I realized he’d done it. “Nonsense, friend. Keeping silent about the past won’t make it better. All you wanted to hear about was the Fleece.”

“But there is no Golden Fleece. Only the
Ram,
bound for gold trade. You said so.”

“No
one
Golden Fleece,” he responded, shaking a finger at me. “Colchis is rich in gold. It washes down in flakes out of the mountains. Men drop woolly sheepskins into the streams, and when they pull ’em out again, the fleeces glitter like little suns!”

“What about the unsleeping dragon?” I asked.

Before he could reply, we both heard the crunch of approaching footsteps and my brothers lurched into the circle of firelight. I prepared to bolt, but Polydeuces uttered a ground-shaking belch, tripped on nothing, and sprawled forward on top of me. He reeked of unwatered wine.

Castor giggled. “Now look wha’ you did,” he declared, sweeping his arms wide apart. “We heard Argus tellin’ story ’bout the Fleece, all we want’s to come listen, an’ you crush poor ol’—ol’—whoever that is. I tol’ you, you drink too—too—too mush Herakles’ wine. Here, I help you up, boy.” He took three steps and fell over Polydeuces just when I’d gotten hold of his shoulders and was shoving him away. Both of my brothers flattened me in a human landslide. Argus howled with laughter.

“What’s going on over there?” Jason’s harsh voice cut through the night. I peered through a tangle of my brothers’ limbs and saw him burst into Argus’s campsite. I disliked Jason, but he did put effort into maintaining order among the Argonauts, asea or ashore. When he grabbed Castor and hauled him off me, I could have kissed his hands with gratitude.

Polydeuces got to his feet, unaided but wobbling. “Accident,” he said. I took advantage of the moment by sidling out of the light crab-fashion, my rump just a finger-span off the ground. I kept a watchful eye on my brothers as I edged away, but my backward retreat ended with a thump as I ran into a massed barricade of legs. The Argonauts had found their evening’s entertainment.

“You again? This is what comes of letting pretty boys on board an honest ship,” Herakles bellowed. He grabbed my arm and pulled me upright. “Nephew, where are you? If you don’t know how to keep this weapons bearer of yours from sowing trouble, I might have to take him off your hands.”

“Uncle, enough.” Iolaus came to my aid, plucking me free of Herakles’ grasp. “Run along, lad.” I heard the note of urgency in his voice as he gave me a shove away from the fire.

But Herakles wasn’t done having his fun. He lunged after me and dragged me back in two strides. “See, the problem is you go too easy on the boy. No discipline. Hylas! Hylas, fetch my sword.” Hylas stayed where he was, but his master didn’t seem to notice or care. He returned all his attention to me. “All right, Glaucus, let’s see what you can do with that little bee-sting blade you carry.”

Gleeful whispers speculated about my chances for survival in a bout against Herakles. Hoarse shouts proposed wagers as to how long I’d last before the Theban hero knocked the sword from my hand and beat me purple with the flat of my own blade. And above all the racket, the words that struck the most fear into my heart came from my brothers.

“‘Glaucus’?” Polydeuces’ wine-fuddled voice sounded loud in my ears. “Jus’ like our ol’ teacher, Castor. Say, that boy…He look familiar t’ you?”

Castor tried to push in front of the crewmen blocking his view of me, but some of them had been sharing Herakles’ wine as well. No one was willing to step aside for Castor, and everyone was more than ready to trade blows with him if he insisted on having his way.

“Stop, I forbid this!” Jason commanded. “Herakles, what have you done to my men, getting them this drunk? They’ll be useless in the morning.”

Herakles planted his fists on his hips in mock indignation. “Do I hear you right, Jason? Are you insulting these fine warriors, saying they can’t hold their wine? What kind of man can’t drink a bellyful by moonset and be ready for battle by sunrise?” The men muttered in tipsy agreement while Jason ground his teeth together and looked ready to bash Herakles’ brains out with the hero’s own club.

Hylas discreetly stepped between Herakles and me. “Master, I can’t find your sword,” he said calmly but quickly. “I need Glaucus to come help me look for it.”

It was a flimsy attempt at getting me to safety before Herakles’ words at Jason’s expense stirred things up any further. It failed. The Theban hero sidestepped his weapons bearer and threw an arm around me in a bear hug. “You might have better luck finding my sword if you actually went to look for it,” he said. “By my father, Zeus, if you get any lazier, Hylas, we’ll have to get you a ship of your own and a quest to go with it!” His rowdy guffaws half deafened me.