Britomartis
Why am I doing this? I have asked myself that question several dozen times now, and the truth is that I have no idea. I have never cared for humans before. Why am I going so far to save this one when my own life is in danger? I don't know. My stomach is still in knots with fear; I want to run, run as fast as I can without looking back until I find Artemis. But when the lynx came and told me about a young girl wandering through the forest alone, I felt an odd need to find her. I knew it must be her. The girl that I saw last night on my way back to the Sacred Forest.
And then just deciding what to do with her is another struggle. She is moving far too slowly for us to be able to find her hunting party any time soon. And the knots in my stomach are demanding that I find Artemis as soon as possible. She is the only reassurance I have against Minos at this point.
Why am I doing this? But it's too late to second guess my decision now. I can hardly tell the girl that I'll help her and then abandon her. I decide to take her to Artemis.
I look back at her, but don't stop. The trail she's leaving is absolutely appalling. I desperately hope that Minos doesn't make it this far. If he finds this trail he'll have no trouble following it. A blind chipmunk with no sense of smell could follow her trail. She lets out a hiss of pain as her hair catches on a tree branch and leaves a few strands in the bark.
"I'm terribly sorry," she says, breathing heavily, "But would it be possible for us to go a bit slower?"
Her calmness surprises me. No, it impresses me, actually. If it weren't for her struggle to breathe I could think that she was talking to a casual acquaintance about the weather. I slow down slightly and let her catch up so she is walking beside me. "I was actually considering asking you if you could go a little faster," I tell her, trying to match her casual tone and placid expression. I can hardly let myself be outdone by a human.
"Oh." She looks down at the ground almost guiltily. "Sorry."
"That would be a 'no,' then, I suppose."
A flicker of pain crosses her face as she trips over a root. I reach out to steady her, but she rights herself without my help. "This is a bit harder than I was expecting."
I raise an eyebrow at her. "What is?"
"Walking through the forest."
"You've never walked through the forest before?" That would explain her complete incapability to display even the slightest semblance of stealth, but I still find it hard to believe.
"Well, it's not the sort of thing that is encouraged in young women where I come from." She lets out a distinctly ungraceful grunt as she narrowly dodges running into a tree branch that she didn't notice while trying to avoid another root. "In fact," she continues, "my mother would probably be horrified if she knew."
"I see." Humans are positively ridiculous. I let it go, though. It has been a long time since I have come to grips with the fact that I will probably never understand humans. I look up at the sun. It's getting close to noon. Artemis will probably be waiting for us. She is not very good at waiting.
"Are we hurrying?" she asks.
"Yes," I say shortly, even though I know she is asking much more. She doesn't need to know where we're going; whom we're going to meet. She is calm enough now, but I would hate to ruin it. She must have recognized the tension in my voice because she doesn't ask anything else and makes a noticeable effort to walk faster. I sincerely appreciate it. Despite my concern about everything that is going on I am glad that I brought her with me.
She throws me a crooked smile, proud of herself that she's actually able to walk faster. I smile back at her. Maybe humans aren't that confusing after all.
Artemis
I feel a flutter of concern when I get to the river and find its banks empty. I reach down and put a finger in the water and call to the nymphs that live here. A naiad rises up, not materializing completely, her form outlined in watery mists, dancing with rainbows as the sun shines through her. When she recognizes me, she smiles and the fluid shape solidifies into a young woman who steps out onto the bank.
She bows gracefully. "Welcome to the River Alpheios, Goddess."
"Thank you. Has a dreiad been here recently?"
"Recently?" It is an old river, very old, and time means little to the nymphs along its banks. Sometimes I can't tell which are worse, the young, silly nymphs or the old, solemn ones.
"Since the last dawn," I quickly clarify.
"No. I haven't seen a dreiad in many dawns, goddess. Perhaps you should ask the lynx. They see many things far from these banks."
I look down, slightly surprised to see a young male lynx lapping water from the river. When I look up the naiad is gone.
"Greetings, young one," I tell him.
He looks up at me as if he hadn't even noticed my presence until I spoke to him. I am careful to hide any irritation from him. I recognize the knowing look in his eye: he has a secret that he will not give up to the wrong person.
"Have you seen a dreiad?"
I shouldn't have spoken in words, I think rather belatedly; he might take it as an insult. He licks his paw and begins cleaning his ear, which worries me, but he finally answers. No, he hasn't seen one. But he knows something. Patience.
When his ear is satisfactorily cleaned he looks up at me again, evidently content with how patiently I waited. His mate saw something. A nymph in the forest.
I ask him how recently.
A darkness ago, and then again with the sun.
I try to ask if he knows where she is now, but he begins cleaning his other ear. He gets up to leave in a few seconds, and glances back over his bony shoulder.
She's coming, along with his mate and a girl. And then he disappears into the trees.
A girl? I am relieved that she is all right, but the fact that she's bringing a girl confuses me. I sigh heavily and look back to the river. The current isn't very strong and the water had felt cool and refreshing when I dipped my fingers in it. I think of what Apollo had told me: Go relax for a while. Well, if Britomartis has a lynx and a mortal girl with her, she must be fine. So I set my bow and arrows on the ground, take of my chiton, hanging it over a young chestnut tree, and step into the water. It is delicious. I sink down below the surface, letting the slow current wash away my concerns.
I don't know how long I lie here with nothing but my face out of the water before the sound of a person walking through the forest steals my attention. That's odd. Britomartis' feet shouldn't make any noise. I remember the girl then, and sit up to look around. Britomartis stands on the edge of the bank, looking serene despite the tension I notice in her shoulders. The lynx is at her feet, not moving a muscle except the tip of her tail, twitching back and forth as she eyes the water uneasily. The girl still hasn't emerged from the trees, but I can hear her as clearly as I would hear three bear cubs traipsing through the woods. I raise an eyebrow at Britomartis and she shrugs, taking of her chiton to join me in the water.
As soon as she steps in, the girl nearly falls out of the tree line, staggering like Bacchus on a good night, looking dazed. I am amazed to recognize her. "Ariadne."
She looks at me in awe and drops to her knees, head bowed. "Forgive me, goddess."
I take a minute to hide my surprise, and have to remind myself that she has no memory of our last meeting. I doubt she will question how I know her name, though. I doubt she would ever question much of anything. "There is nothing to forgive," I tell her, "You were brought by my attendant. I admit, I have no idea why, but you have nothing to fear from me." She doesn't move, so I turn to Britomartis. "What happened?"
"He found my tree. I could feel him touching me even from all that distance."
"And you went?"
"I couldn't bear it. As soon as I got there I recognized it as a mistake, but I was so terrified that he would do something to my tree and I wouldn't be able to do anything."
I shake my head. "I shouldn't have left you."
"What scares me the most is that he let me run. I don't think I could have gotten away from him if he hadn't. His grip is like iron and I can't hide from him. But he wasn't giving up. He's toying with me, enjoying the chase."
"Has he touched your tree since?" She shakes her head. "And you are most definitely set against him?"
Her entire body jerks in surprise and turns towards me. "Artemis," she says in shock. But goes no further.
"I just wanted to make sure. I would hate to spend all this time trying to figure out how I can kill him without involving Hera and Father just to find out that you were only opposed to the relationship out of a sense of loyalty to me."
"No. I could never touch him willingly."
"Very well. Apollo suggested that I don't let you out of my sight until Father has calmed down enough that I can speak to him rationally." I can tell she doesn't like the idea of Father's involvement, but is so tired of the entire affair that she says nothing. She would allow it just to get rid of the man.
"Who is he?"
I look over towards Ariadne, mildly surprised. The girl continues to amaze me. Just when I think that she is no more than timid silence, she speaks up. I nod towards Britomartis. I will not tell her story, but see no reason to keep it from the human.
"King Minos," Britomartis says wryly. "He fancies himself in love. Hera evidently promised him the girl of his dreams, and that happens to be me. Which is why there is little that either of us can do."
Ariadne's eyes open wide. "It's true, then? That no one likes Hera?"
I laugh at that. Britomartis is still too tense to laugh, but I can see her smile. "Zeus does," she tells her, "which is the problem."
Ariadne nods, her mouth an O. She finally sits down from her kneeling position, and the lynx walks over to her and sits in her lap. I don't think Ariadne's expression could get any more stunned. "Remember, child," I say, "A lynx is a danger to humans; you should avoid them when not in the company of a nymph or a goddess." She nods, not able to say anything, and timidly reaches out a hand to stroke the smooth coat of the animal.
I turn back to Britomartis. "And how did the two of you meet?"
"She's in the forest with a hunting party. I didn't get the full story, but I found her wandering alone and couldn't leave her there. You know her, though. Ariadne, you called her?"
"Yes, she is Actaeon's wife."
Britomartis' eyebrows rise, recognizing the name. "He is in the forest, then."
"He is probably looking for her." I smile. "I can only imagine the trail she left. He shouldn't have any problems." She frowns at this, and I know why. Ariadne's trail would be absurdly easy to track. "Don't worry, Minos won't try anything with me here."
"Actaeon is coming?" asks Ariadne.
"Most likely. Unless he abandoned you in the forest intentionally."
It was supposed to be a joke, but she shakes her head and frowns. "I… was supposed to stay at camp." She is silent for a while after that before looking up with a bright smile. "Maybe one of the guards could kill him."
"Kill whom? And what guards?" asks Britomartis.
"Minos, of course. And my guards. Then Hera wouldn't be mad at you for killing him."
Britomartis smiles at her. "Thank you, that is very kind of you to offer, but I wouldn't want to turn Hera's anger on someone else."
"Would she really bother with something like that? Aren't mortals beneath her or something?"
I answer this time. "We goddesses consider no insult beneath seeking revenge, mortal or divine."
"Oh."
"Why don't you join us in the water, child? You look exhausted." It's true. For the first time I notice the twigs in her hair and the sweat on her face. At my words the lynx hops out of her lap, not pleased at even the slightest possibility of getting wet. She slinks into the forest in the general direction that her mate had taken not too long before, promising not to wander too far.
Ariadne timidly removes her chiton, slowly laying it next to Britomartis' and mine, covering her body uncomfortably with her arms. She steps into the water, staying close to the bank, probably afraid to get too close to me. I let her stay there. It is good that she still has some fear. She should; I meant it when I said that we goddesses consider no insult beneath seeking revenge. I would hate for her to accidently slip up and force my hand.
I lay back again, relaxing. Yes, maybe Apollo was right; there was no certainty that this was going to end badly. And the lynx had to be a good omen. They usually are… usually. Of course, sometimes… But I don't let my mind go down that road. No reason to.
After a while I remember the odd tendency that human skin has to shrivel in the water. And they get cold so easily. I look over at Ariadne; she seems all right, but I decide we've spent enough time in the water. I climb out on to the bank, knowing the other two will follow suit, and I lay out in the sun to dry. The sun is just as sweet on my bare skin as the water was. Britomartis and Ariadne are still leaving the river when I hear a noise from the forest. I am far too comfortable to move, but I open my eyes to look at Britomartis' face, which I know will tell me if it's something to be concerned about. She is frowning. Ariadne hasn't even noticed anything is wrong.
I sit up and look behind me. I see nothing, but now that I'm paying attention I can sense a mortal man there, hiding. Fury rises up in me. How dare he? I stand up, and march over to the brush where I can tell he is hiding. He is too terrified to even bother trying to run, which is fortunate for him. I grab the man's arm, pull him out and toss him to the ground in front of me. He slides back a few feet in the dirt, and then twists to get to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground.
"Actaeon!" Ariadne shouts. She runs for her clothes and starts awkwardly draping her chiton around her.
Actaeon doesn't move. He knows far better than she the trouble his is in. My fury pulses in my head. How dare he? I am too angry to even think straight. After all I have done for this man. After what I have done for his wife, he dares spy on me? Ariadne, finally covered appropriately, makes a move towards Actaeon. "Stay where you are, girl," I say sharply. She stops.
Still naked, I step towards him. "Do you know the punishment for this?"
"Death," he says softly.
"Yes."
"What?" Ariadne gasps. "No, please… no. He didn't even do anything!"
"Ariadne," Actaeon's voice is tight with fear but he still doesn't move, "please be quiet."
"We have been here before," I tell him, referring to the first time he and I met, years ago. "I was lenient with you."
"Yes, goddess."
"I gave you the gift of your wife. You don't even know what all I've done for you. And you repay me by spying on me." I pause, trying to decide think of the most gruesome punishment possible. How dare he? "I haven't decided your punishment yet," I tell him. "But we'll make a game of it. You'll know it when you see it, and I do love a good hunt." I drop to my knees, take his chin in my hand and roughly jerk his head up so he can look into my eyes. "Run."
He stares into my eyes for a split second. He's on his feet less than a heartbeat later, and instead of running towards the forest the way I expect him to, he turns to Ariadne. He grabs her and kisses her fiercely. The kiss of a man who knows he's going to die. He presses his lips to her ear and whispers, "I love you; never forget it." And then he's running.
"No!" Ariadne tries to follow him, but Britomartis grabs her arm.
"There's nothing you can do," she says softly.
I dress slowly, thinking, sensing Actaeon running through the woods. Ariadne is shaking silently in Britomartis' arms, horrified. Somehow the sense of helpless desperation in that kiss has dissipated my anger. The fear in his voice, I realize, was not for himself, but for her. Even faced with death he thought of nothing but his wife.
And as he hid there in the brush, what was he looking at? Love makes humans do strange things. Very strange. Like prefer to stare at a scrawny mortal girl rather than the radiant beauty of divinity.
But he has seen me naked. No man can live with that vision. No man. I've made my decision. There is no going back on it.
