The Oracle of Delphi (Greek Myth Fantasy Series) (23 page)

“Now that you mention sea nymphs,” he told her, “it brings something else to mind.”

“Ah, you’d like to see my impression of Nerina again?” She looked at him playfully and he felt delighted she was the one to suggest it.

“Perhaps later,” he told her. “Right now I’d like to check your buttocks to make sure there really isn’t a symbol and I just overlooked it.”

“You know there isn’t anything there,” she said with a smile, “but if you insist on looking, I don’t mind.”

She playfully bent over the bed, and experienced yet another way to make love. Perseus was kind and gentle, and it felt so right to be back in his arms. They both experienced immeasurable  pleasure, basking in the glory of unbridled elation.

Then, both sated, they collapsed onto the bed, bodies entwined, breathing heavily.

“I love you, Perseus,” she told him.

“As I love you,” he answered.

“Take me with you to Seriphus,” she begged him. “I do not want to be away from you ever again.”

“Sleep now, my princess,” he answered, stroking her hair. “And in the morning we will say our good-byes until we meet again.”

Perseus awoke to find the bed next to him empty. The sun already streamed in the open window, signifying he had slept longer than he had intended. He rolled over, burying his head in the pillow, smelling the sweet essence of his wife upon it. Memories of last night filled his head, her soft body next to his, her sweet voice calling out his name. He would have a hard time leaving her this morning, but he preferred to keep her well protected at the castle until his return. He hoped everything would go smoothly with King Polydectes, enabling him to not only save his mother, but bring her back with him to Thessaly when this was all over.

He wondered what his mother would say when she learned he had fathered a child. No doubt she would be anxious to return with him to dote over her grandchild. He would miss Dictys and Iris once he left the island, but he had a new life now. A life that involved his wife and a child on its way.

He rolled out of bed, looking for his tunic. Instead, he found the clothing of a prince that someone had lain across the back of a chair. He donned the new tunic and belt of golden leaves, then laced the new sandals up his legs. He could not bring himself to wear the crown, but rubbed his hand over it in admiration, pleased to know Andromeda’s family had accepted him so well.

He had just finished strapping on his sword and was reaching for the dark purple cloak when he heard a neighing sound from out in the courtyard. He tossed the cloak around his shoulders and ran to the window, scanning the ground for his horse.

“Good morning, husband,” came Andromeda’s voice from above him. His head shot upward in surprise. He held on to the window and leaned out to see her circling the sky on the back of his horse.

“What do you think you are doing?” he shouted. “Get down at once before you’re hurt.”

“I will not. And I will not give back Pegasus or the head of Medusa until you promise to take me with you to Seriphus.”

“Blast it, woman! Will you never stop trying to trick me?”

“This is no trick, Perseus. And I meant what I said. Now what is your answer?”

He was surprised to see she had saddled his horse, something he thought could not be done. And with her long gown hiked up to her knees, she rode Pegasus astride. The magic bag with the head of Medusa swung from the horn of the saddle.

He pounded his fist against the window, knowing the feisty wench would not give up until he agreed to take her with him on his journey. She put him in a predicament and if he didn’t settle it soon he may not make it back to Seriphus in time.

“All right,” he said, just to get her down to the ground. “Come down and we will discuss it.”

“Not good enough, dear husband,” she called, making another circle in the sky. Her golden tresses trailed behind her on the breeze, making her look like a goddess of the air. “Give me your promise or I will not land.”

“You land and then I’ll give you my promise.”

“You will never get to Seriphus this way,” she told him, sweeping very close to him and then heading back up into the sky. “Now give me your promise.”

He had an idea and climbed to the sill of the window. Steadying himself, he looked down to the ground, which was very far below. He decided to look up instead, focusing on Pegasus. Then with his whistle, the horse turned its head and flew right toward him.

“Wait! What are you doing?” Andromeda screeched, unable to make the animal turn back.

Perseus waited for just the right moment, and when Pegasus passed right under the window, he jumped and landed on the back of the horse. He settled himself and reached around Andromeda for the reins, guiding the horse to the ground.

“There is one thing you need to remember. I am a demi-god and the horse of the gods will always listen to me over you.”

Andromeda frowned as he landed Pegasus on the ground. He then dismounted and helped her do the same. The king and queen were there instantly, as well as the rest of the residents of Thessaly.

“We cannot thank you enough,” said the king, placing his arm around his wife.

Queen Cassiopeia smiled and leaned in to her husband. “Do take good care of Andromeda on your journey,” she said, with mischief in her eye. “After all, we know she is the safest when she is in your care.”

“She is not coming with me,” Perseus grumbled. “But I will return for her very soon.”

He leaned over, giving her a good-bye kiss and then rubbed his hand over her belly bidding farewell to his baby too. He mounted Pegasus and looked down to his wife. The sadness in her eyes tugged at his heart. He didn’t know how he would last a day without her, let alone a week. She mouthed the silent word please to him one last time, sticking her bottom lip out in a childlike pout.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking up to the heavens for guidance. Finding no answers there, he knew this decision was his alone. He longed for her company and wanted to do what he could to make her happy. He knew if he denied her, he would regret it later. On the other hand, Andromeda would only slow him down, and as history had already proved - she was usually nothing but trouble. His decision weighed heavily on his mind, but her cute little lip pouting out for him is what made him change his mind.

“All right, Andromeda. I will take you with. But if you try to trick me just once into doing what you want again, I’ll turn this horse right around and bring you back myself.”

“Oh, thank you!” she shouted, jumping up and down. She gave a quick hug and kiss to her parents, accepted the bag of food for their journey, and climbed up onto Pegasus before Perseus could reach down to help her.

“Good-bye, Mother and Father,” she called as Perseus guided Pegasus into the air. She leaned over and waved, nearly slipping from the saddle. Perseus settled her and wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he warned her, and headed off over the sea for the island of Seriphus.

*   *   *

With the magic of Pegasus on their side, Perseus found they made good time. According to his calculations, they would arrive in Seriphus before nightfall and he wasn’t due back until the morrow. The wind whipped around them as the horse’s giant white wings flapped before them. He looked down to the sea far below, feeling like a bird himself so high in the sky.

“Perseus,” Andromeda’s small voice came from in front of him. “Perseus, can we please stop?”

“Stop?” he asked. “We are making good time. If we keep going, we can be to the island by sunset.”

“I really need to stop,” she said, turning to look at him.

He heard the urgency in her voice and saw her face turn a shade of green. He directed Pegasus to a small piece of land emerging from the water, and had no sooner helped her dismount than she retched all over the ground.

Bending over, holding her stomach, she gripped his arm securely. “I can’t go back up in the air today. I need to rest.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking in the direction of Seriphus anxiously. “We’re so close. Mayhap we can try again.”

“No,” she said, lying on the ground and closing her eyes. “You go on ahead and leave me here. I’ll be fine. Return to me when you have finished.”

He shook his head in frustration, knowing something like this was bound to happen if he brought her along. He should have left her in Thessaly like he had planned. He was so close to his homeland that he could almost taste it. The anxiety dwelled within him and he wanted nothing more than to complete his mission. He needed to get to Seriphus by sunrise or Polydectes would kill his mother; however, he couldn’t leave Andromeda alone on a deserted isle in the middle of the ocean. He had a duty as her husband to protect her and their unborn child.

“We will stop for the night,” he told her, untying the bag of food from the horse. “But we will have to leave all the earlier tomorrow in order to get to Seriphus by sunrise.”

She didn’t hear a word he said, as her eyes were closed and she already slumbered. Perseus looked at her sleeping on the ground so innocent and trusting. His wife and his unborn baby’s welfare were in his hands. He looked out toward Seriphus wondering how his mother had fared.

“Please do not kill her, Polydectes,” he whispered. “I am coming.”

*   *   *

The rain poured down upon them, and with no shelter on the isle, Andromeda shivered in Perseus’s arms. It stormed all night. With the dark sky overhead, Perseus had a hard time telling if it was close to morning. Either way, he knew it was time to move on.

“Princess,” he told her, shaking her gently to wake her. “We have to go now.”

Her teeth chattered as she lay her head against his chest.

“I think I’m going to die, Perseus.”

He kissed her and held her tighter. He had to be strong for Andromeda and the baby. But deep inside he knew Andromeda was very sick and needed care soon if she was to recover. He could not give her what she needed on this barren isle. The sooner he got her back to Seriphus, the better.

“You will not die, Andromeda. You will be better as soon as we get to Seriphus.”

She had not eaten a bite all yesterday, and the tossing and turning in her sleep led Perseus to believe she was seriously ill. Her body felt hot, so hot, yet she shivered as if she was very cold. A fever burned inside her, and he knew this was dangerous not only to Andromeda but also to their baby. He had stayed awake all night watching over them, wondering if indeed both of them would die before they made it to his island.

“I don’t think I can go on,” she told him, looking up to him with dull, sunken eyes. He ran a hand over her forehead trying to wash away the heat of her body with the bone-chilling rain that drenched them.

“We don’t have a choice, Andromeda. Now it looks like both my mother’s life and yours depends on it.”

He scooped her up into his arms and mounted Pegasus, feeling the cold drip of the rain running down the back of his neck. He cradled Andromeda in his arms, removing his wet cloak and wrapping it around her for what little protection it would give her from the wind. If only they could get out of this rain, mayhap they would have a chance.

Perseus guided Pegasus up into the sky and took off toward Seriphus. The sky was still dark, and the storm prevented him from seeing the stars clearly for guidance. Before long, Perseus had the sinking feeling they were lost.

The rain finally subsided and through the clouds the first rays of sunlight announced a new day. Perseus could see Apollo driving his chariot up over the horizon, dragging the sun along behind him. Normally this was a happy sight, but today it only brought doom. He was lost in the clouds, no idea where Seriphus was below him or even how far he was from his destination. The new day dawned, signifying his time was over.

“Nooooo!” he screamed in defeat, certain he had failed. He was too late, and now his mother would die.

Perseus slowed Pegasus, knowing all his efforts were for naught. His mother would die, as would his wife and unborn child. He felt as helpless as a slug under a rock, not knowing what to do.

“Nooooo,” he screamed again into the wind. Would that he could change things, or at least stop the morning from coming.

Apollo looked over to him, his brow furrowed at the sound of Perseus’s cry.

“What is it that makes you wail, demi-god Perseus, son of the almighty Zeus?”

The voice of Apollo boomed through the air, startling Perseus. He had never heard the god speak before. And now, Apollo, God of the Sun, spoke to him directly.

Perseus looked upward, giving a nod of his head.

“Would that I could stop the dawn from breaking,” he told him. “My mother’s life will be at her end if I do not make it to Seriphus with the head of Medusa before the sun rises.”

“Well, you may not be able to stop the dawn from coming, but I can,” Apollo relayed with a smile. He pulled on his horses’ reins, causing the six black stallions to skid to a halt. The sun teetered just below the horizon, but its rays did not reach upward. “I’ll hold it here until you get to Seriphus,” he told him. “But do hurry, as the sun is very heavy.”

“I thank you for your kindness, great Apollo,” Perseus said with a bow of his head, “but I am afraid I am lost and no longer know in which direction Seriphus lies.”

Apollo laughed, mere thunder rumbling through the sky. “I can see your little island clearly from up here. Let me give you a push in the right direction.”

Apollo filled his huge lungs with air and exhaled toward Perseus. Pegasus reared back, startled at the strong wind. Perseus rubbed a hand over the horse’s mane while securing a sleeping Andromeda in his arms.

“Hold on, Pegasus,” he warned him. “We are going for the ride of our lives.”

On a stream of wind stronger than he had ever felt, Perseus guided Pegasus through the air. The clouds scattered to nothingness around them. Then he saw it: Seriphus in all its glory rose up from the ocean to greet him. Dictys’ little hut -Perseus’s home as well - sat nestled on the beach, just as he had remembered.

“We made it!” he cried, bringing Pegasus to a soft landing. “We are home.”

The wind subsided and he looked up toward the god of the sun. Apollo, golden god that he was, gripped the reins tightly as the weight of the sun pulled him backwards. His six horses whinnied and pulled hard against the reins. Perseus knew Apollo could keep the dawn from breaking no longer.

“Thank you, Apollo,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Apollo only nodded, and charged his horses forward with a snap from his long whip. The huge golden ball of fire broke above the horizon, bringing with it the announcement a new day was at hand.

Perseus slid from the horse with Andromeda in his arms. She shivered like a leaf and he knew he needed to get her into the house quickly beside a warm fire. He ran forward, calling out for the woman who would know exactly how to help his wife.

“Iris, Iris!” he called running to the door of the hut. He burst inside, but the abode was empty. No fire on the hearth, no food in the kettle. Something was very wrong here indeed.

He placed Andromeda down on his bed, stripping her wet clothes quickly from her body. Then he wrapped her in warm blankets and pushed the bed toward the fire pit. Stoking the kindling as fast as his numb fingers could move, he lit a fire to warm her bones. He rubbed her feet, hands and toes, trying to bring life back flowing through her body. The fever had taken a toll on her, and she looked to be at death’s door.

She moaned and stirred in her sleep, and he bit the side of his cheek in aggravation. He needed to find Iris quickly. She was known far and wide for her extraordinary healing powers. The woman’s herbs and tender care could help save his wife.

“I will be back with help,” he told Andromeda, kissing her quickly upon the forehead. “You will be fine, sweetheart. I promise.” He placed his hand on her stomach, thinking of their unborn child. “You will both be fine.” She opened her eyelids a crack and tried to smile.

“I believe you,” she whispered. “Now go.” Then her eyes shut and she fell into a deep sleep. Perseus hoped, by the gods, he was right. He turned and ran from the hut to find the fisherman’s wife.

Perseus swooped through the air on Pegasus, searching the barren land, surprised not to find even one farmer or fisherman below him. He did not find Iris, but he did find her husband, Dictys, far off in a field beneath a tree. The old fisherman sat with his body bent over, his head in his hands, his back to Perseus.

“Dictys!” he called, dismounting Pegasus and running to the man. The old man raised his head, and Perseus could see the sadness in his eyes.

“Perseus,” he said, forcing a smile. He got to his feet to join him. “Welcome back, son.” While Perseus was not the man’s son, it seemed like he was. He was the only father Perseus had ever known, until he had met Zeus. He ran to the old man, grasping him in a strong embrace.

“It is good to see you,” he told him. “I have returned with my wife who is very sick and pregnant with my child.”

“Wife?” he asked curiously. “Child?”

“I will tell you more later, Dictys. Right now I need Iris to help bring her back to health. Where is she? I need her quickly.”

Dictys only hung his head, shaking it sadly. His eyes roamed over the ground, and when Perseus followed his gaze he knew why he hadn’t been able to find her. A wooden marker sat beside a large rock. The ground in front was soft and fertile, as if it had been overturned lately.

“Dictys, don’t tell me Iris is dead?”

“She is gone, Perseus. She has been gone for nearly a week, and I miss her deeply.”

“What happened?” he asked. “How did she die?”

“Killed by my own brother, when the people of the island decided to be brave and go up against him.”

“No,” he said. “This cannot be true. Dictys, I am so sorry. But why did you ever think you could go up against Polydectes’ army to begin with?”

Dictys looked over to the grave and shook his head. The man had never looked so defeated in all the time Perseus had known him.

“He killed off half the islanders before we could get to her. But we managed to help her escape, as she was the most loved woman on this island.”

“Iris was being held prisoner?” Perseus asked in surprise.

“Not Iris,” Dictys explained, “Danaë. My brother tried to kill her shortly after you left, when she refused to sleep with him. If we had not gone against him, she would be dead right now.”

“By the gods!” Perseus dropped to his knees, laying his hands on the grave of Iris. “I can never replace the lives that have been lost in the process of saving my own mother.”

“Your mother is hiding in the hills with some of the villagers,” he told him. “Go to her, Perseus. Take her far from this island. Take her somewhere far from the dangers of my evil brother, Polydectes.”

“You will come with me when I leave this island,” Perseus told him. “I will see that everyone who lives here is taken far from the evil man when I leave.”

“No, Perseus, this is our home.” He laid a hand on Perseus’s shoulder. “The islanders will never leave, nor will I. I will stay close to my beloved wife, Iris.”

Perseus got to his feet, the anger inside making him want to kill the king. None of this should have happened. He was supposed to retrieve Medusa’s head to save his mother. Now he wished he had just stayed and tried to save her instead.

“I will not let this continue,” he told him. “I will see to it that Polydectes is killed for what he has done. I will not only kill him, but his entire army as well. I will bring peace to Seriphus before I dare step foot off this land again.”

Perseus walked briskly toward Pegasus with Dictys following.

“No, Perseus. I cannot allow you to do that. No one can take on an entire army of men by himself. Not even you. You will be killed in the process.”

Perseus stilled, knowing Dictys was right. He was but one man and they were an army. He could not kill them by his sword and expect to live in the process. He eyed the bag with Medusa’s head hanging from the saddle. He ran his hand over the bag in thought.

“Perseus, did you hear me?” Dictys asked from behind him.

Perseus jumped atop Pegasus and turned full circle as the horse prominently displayed its beautiful wings.

“My, what a beautiful horse,” said Dictys eyeing it curiously. “It looks like a horse of the gods.”

“It is a gift from Zeus,” Perseus explained, watching Dictys’ eyes light up as he relayed the information. “Can you heal my wife, Andromeda? She is in the hut and very sick.”

“I will do what I can,” Dictys told him. “Iris taught me some of her healing techniques throughout the years.” Then the man straightened up, his composure regained. “Yes, I’m certain I can help her, Perseus, so do not worry. You go to your mother, as she awaits you.”

“If what you say is true, then she is safe. I will collect her afterwards.”

“Afterwards?” Dictys shook his head, watching Perseus take off into the air. “Wait! Perseus! Where are you going?”

“I am off to see King Polydectes,” he called over his shoulder. “I have to deliver the head of Medusa, just as I have promised.”