The Oracle of Delphi (Greek Myth Fantasy Series) (5 page)

Perseus rode beside Andromeda, her horse’s reins gripped tightly in his hand. He couldn’t trust she wouldn’t try to escape him again. He would have ridden double in the saddle, but he couldn’t trust himself enough to be that close to her without trying to kiss her.

He had almost kissed her at the stream and had to stop himself from such a reckless action. He would be wise to beware of Princess Andromeda. His mother had told him the oracle spoke of his involvement with her even before he was born. The prophecy said Andromeda would help him attain his goal, so he did not want to let her leave yet. But then again, the oracle spoke of her antics in trying to stop him from succeeding as well. He couldn’t have that either. Mayhap it would be safer to keep an eye on her so he always knew what she planned to do.

He decided to go back to the oracle and ask more questions. Questions about Andromeda as well as how to find the Gorgon, Medusa. Once he had his answers, he would be satisfied. Perhaps if the oracle spoke favorably he would change his mind and let the girl return to her own village.

He watched Andromeda sitting proud and tall atop her horse. Her golden hooded cape hung wet over her shoulders from rain, clinging to her as well as to the sides of her horse. Her white gown didn’t look much like the garments of a princess, now splashed and splattered with river mud. The wetness of the material clung to her curvy body like a second skin, leaving little to his imagination.

By the gods, the girl was a comely wench. Everything about her intrigued him and led his mind down a path it hadn’t ventured in a long time. He wanted her, and the throbbing of his body wouldn’t let him forget it. But he pushed the thought from his mind, knowing she was nothing but trouble. No, he decided, he wouldn’t touch her. It seemed too dangerous to keep her near, as she would only distract him from his goal. The faster he got his answer from the oracle and released her, the better.

They approached the cave just as Apollo, God of the Sun, drove his chariot across the sky, pulling the sun down to the horizon. The golden ball of fire sinking behind the tall rocks of Mt. Olympus proved to be a mesmerizing sight. Perseus could only wonder about the lives of the deities that graced Olympus as their home. And he could only wonder if some day he’d be lucky enough to meet Zeus, his father.

“I don’t care to go back in,” came Andromeda’s defiant gripe as he dismounted quickly, still holding her horse’s reins tightly.

“Too bad. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Now shall we?”

He held his hand out to help her from the horse, but she ignored it, slipping from the saddle to the ground with an expert sense of ease.

“How is it you are out here without a chaperone? It is not befitting for a princess to be traveling alone.”

She bit the side of her lip and played with her golden braid that hung to her buttocks. Twirling the end around in her fingers, she looked at it instead of at him when she gave her answer.

“I am a princess. I can do what I want. And I don’t need to answer any more of your questions since I choose not to.”

She left him standing there as she disappeared into the mouth of the cave. Perseus rested his hand atop the hilt of his sword and followed.

Andromeda didn’t feel at all comfortable entering the cave again. But it was the lesser of two evils as far as she was concerned. She didn’t want Perseus asking so many questions. She would just stand in the shadows and wait. When his attention was focused on the words of the oracle, she would silently slip out of the cave without him knowing.

His hand on her elbow startled her as he guided her forward toward the pit, giving her no chance to stray. The floor sconces shone brightly, but the scent of burning herbs no longer permeated the air. The oracle’s chair sat empty, water from the open roof dripping onto the gold piece with a slight clicking sound.

“Where is the priestess?” he growled, stopping for a moment in his tracks.

She tried to pry his fingers from her arm, but without luck.

“How should I know? Mayhap she’s retired for the night.”

A priest walked out of the shadows, his head cloaked, his arms tucked inside the huge sleeves of his long, dark robe.

“We are here to confront the oracle,” Perseus spoke up, his voice echoing off the walls of the cave.

The priest just shook his head and answered quietly. “The priestess is weakened from her last audience with Princess Andromeda. She will not be able to call forth the oracle until she is stronger.”

“Oh, well. I guess we are out of luck,” Andromeda said, trying to turn, but Perseus kept her from moving.

“We will wait.” His words were strong and final. “How long will that be?”

“There is no telling,” the priest answered solemnly. “It could be a day before she regains her strength or it could be a month.”

“A month?” he repeated with an anxious edge to his voice. He dropped her wrist in the process. “We cannot wait that long. I need to have my answers tonight. Isn’t there another priestess who can summon the oracle for me?”

“No one has been trained yet to succeed the priestess.” The priest shook his head as he spoke. “Right now, she is the only one who can do it.”

“How about you?” he asked the priest. “You are always at her side when she summons the oracle. You can do it for me.”

The priest lowered his hood, showing his bald head. The old man looked at Perseus with wide eyes. Andromeda could not help but see the frightened disbelief within them.

“No one but a female virgin can sit on the throne of the oracle. If another tried, he would be struck dead instantly, falling into the bottomless pit by the oracle’s wrath. And even if a female virgin were atop the chair, she would not have the training to call forth the oracle and channel its answers. The priestess is the only one who can do it.”

Andromeda felt relieved at the priest’s words. Perseus would not have his answers tonight. He would not know she was the sacrifice the oracle spoke of, and because of this she would have more time to try to convince him to slay the sea serpent and therefore save her village.

“I guess we will just have to wait,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “Such a pity, as I know what a hurry you are in. I am feeling a bit famished. I don’t suppose you feel the urge to hunt some food?”

His eyes studied her with their hawk-like scrutiny. The fire reflected off his eyes, bringing them to life. He had the fires of desire within him, and he did not seem to be a patient man. Men like him got what they wanted one way or another without having to wait. She suddenly felt as if she wanted to hide behind a rock, far away from his attention.

“You can do it!” he told her, taking her hand in his and dragging her toward the pit.

“What? Me? No! What do you mean?”

“Climb up onto the chair and summon the oracle for me.” He directed her toward the chair of the priestess.

Horrified at the turn of events, she stepped away and shook her head. “No, no that won’t work.”

“Why not?” Perseus asked in a low voice.

She looked to the priest who did nothing to help her. Then she looked back at Perseus, giving the only excuse she could think of that might save her from this task.

“I am not a virgin . . . that is why. I cannot sit atop the throne of the priestess without being struck dead because I am not a virgin.” She felt confident, but only until she heard his reply.

“Really?” he said, coming toward her in a stalking manner. “And why is it I’ve already seen you upon the throne and yet you are still alive and kicking?”

She had almost forgotten about that. She would have to come up with another excuse quickly; but the only problem was, his presence unnerved her and she found it hard to think.

“I guess the oracle was sleeping at the time? But I’m sure it is awake now, so I don’t dare try it again.”

“You sat upon the throne as a baby, Princess Andromeda,” the priest reminded her. “At that time you were thought to be the next heir to the oracle’s chair. If you have already been upon it and were not harmed, then the oracle has accepted you as its channel.”

“Thank you for pointing that out,” she said to the priest through gritted teeth. If ever she had wanted to strike someone down for speaking, it was this priest who had just ruined any chance of her rejecting Perseus’s request.

“Then it is settled.” Perseus directed her forward. “You will call forth the oracle so I can get my answers.”

“But … but …” she looked over her shoulder at the priest as Perseus guided her to the rungs of the chair. The priest just smiled and nodded his head to her in a silent blessing. What was wrong with these men? Didn’t they know she could not call forth the oracle? Could they not see her unwillingness?

“Now climb aboard, Princess.”

Perseus removed her cape, throwing it over his shoulder. He placed her hand on the rung and with his sandaled foot he lifted her foot, placing it on the ladder. She felt her body shaking, her will suddenly very weak.

She looked up to the top of the chair and noticed the bright moon out the opening of the cave roof that shone upon the throne seat in invitation. The cave seemed even more horrifying at night than it did during the day. And calling forth the mist of the oracle was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

“Wait!” called the priest from behind her. “She cannot go up there.”

A flash of renewed hope triggered inside her and she turned to look at the priest, thinking that mayhap she still had a chance to decline this position after all.

“Why not?” grumbled Perseus.

“Because I must record every word the oracle speaks. Wait, please. I’ll return with my scroll.”

Andromeda’s heart dropped. That was not the answer she wanted to hear. Prolonged agony did nothing for her, but waiting for the priest would give her time to think.

The priest disappeared behind a rock and the sound of a closing door echoed throughout the darkened chamber.

Andromeda released the rung and forced a smile at Perseus.

“Well, I guess we may as well relax for a moment. I think I would like to sit down over there.” She pointed back toward the stairs and started to take a step, but Perseus’s hand on her wrist stopped her.

“I don’t think so, Princess. A bit too close to the exit I might point out. I don’t have time to wait for the priest. I have a Gorgon to kill. Now climb up to the chair before I drag you up there myself.”

Andromeda opened her mouth to protest, but a raised finger from Perseus stopped her from speaking.

“I mean it,” he said. “One more word from you and you’ll be over my shoulder as I climb that ladder myself.”

She had no doubt he had every intention of carrying out his little threat. She’d be apt to test him on it, but she could not help but remember his lips so close to hers at the stream. She had no intention of being so close to his body again, falling to the ploy of his seduction. Besides, if something happened, he would be no good to her dead.

“All right. I will go.” She started up the ladder but stopped halfway up as she heard a low whisper calling her name.

“Yes?” she asked Perseus in response. “Why did you call me? Change your mind, perhaps?”

He stood with his feet in a firm stance, his fists on his hips.

“Quit stalling for time. I didn’t call you and you know it. Now get up on the chair quickly.”

She heard it again, and this time she knew it hadn’t come from Perseus’s mouth.

Andromeda, you’ve come back
, she heard the whisper. She looked down into the darkened pit and realized the voice was coming from within.

“Did you hear that?” she asked Perseus.

He watched her with a scowl on his face. “I heard nothing, now stop stalling.”

She knew he was right. The sooner she got this over with the better. She didn’t want to stay anywhere near this pit any longer than she had to.

She scurried to the top of the chair, settling herself on the rain-wet seat. “I am ready,” she stated, noticing the catch in her voice.

“Good,” came Perseus’s deep voice from the bottom of the chair. “I am going to stand in the proper place. You call forth the oracle, and I’ll ask my questions.”

“Right.”

Perseus left the bottom of the chair, walking over to a place in front of the pit where audiences were conducted. Andromeda never felt as alone as she did right then. She gripped the arms of the chair tightly and bit her lip. Her heart raced inside her chest and she found her breathing labored.

“Go ahead, I’m ready,” called Perseus from the floor. “Call forth the mist so we can get started.”

She had no idea how to call forth the oracle, nor did she have any intention of doing it. She intended to climb the chair to satisfy Perseus, then announce that the oracle refused to speak through her.

It would have been a beautiful plan had she not heard the gravelly whisper again from the pit, calling out her name.

Andromeda, Andromeda
, it called, and she couldn’t help but look down into the deep hole to see from where it came. That’s when she saw the mist. A thick mist, with a stench like a three-day-old kill, rose up from the pit to surround the bottom of the chair.