A/N Thank you once again for the lovely reviews. I have to admit that I've struggled a bit with this chapter which is why it's later than usual. I hope it's still alright.
"What is it that you wished to know?"
The Oracle didn't even bother to look up from the entrails she was slicing. The chamber was as dark and gloomy as ever, the only point of light illuminating the seer herself. Pasiphae sneered slightly. It was all designed to impress the minds of the populace of course; to make them feel that they were entering a sacred place. Not that she doubted the power of the Oracle; it was more that she knew just how much the seer chose to keep to herself. The Queen pointedly ignored the bowl at the entrance to the chamber, placed there to receive the money of the faithful – given as an offering to appease the Gods and used to keep the acolytes of the Temple in a comfortable manner.
"You have a question for me," the Oracle went on in her clear voice, never turning.
"I need to speak to you about someone," Pasiphae admitted sharply.
"You wish to speak to me about Jason," the Oracle stated calmly.
"That is not something that required your powers of divination I am sure. What else could we possibly have to speak of?"
The Oracle turned with wry smile.
"You must be concerned," she noted. "To pay me so many visits in so few days is an unprecedented event."
"Spare me your barbs," Pasiphae bit back sharply. "They do neither of us any credit."
The Oracle rinsed her hands in a bowl of water that was standing ready for such a purpose. Drying them carefully, she turned towards the Queen and stepped forwards, her face unreadable.
"I had thought to see Jason himself before now," she noted softly. "He usually comes to see me when he is perturbed."
"He comes to you often?" Pasiphae asked sharply. The surge of jealousy that she felt at the thought that Jason had voluntarily been spending time with the prophetess was completely irrational, she told herself.
The Oracle gave a faint smile, clearly interpreting the emotions that danced across the Queen's face correctly.
"Only when he is upset or in need of direction," she answered. "Or when I send for him. Jason's destiny is a great one and there have been times when my visions have impacted directly upon him; when I have felt the need to warn him of the intentions of others."
"You mean that you attempted to poison him against me," Pasiphae stated bitterly.
"No," the Oracle said. "I have never had need to speak of you. Jason has drawn his own conclusions based upon your actions. I did, however, have cause to warn him of the intentions of Circe. She intended to harm him and her actions imperilled Jason… and us all."
"Circe!" Pasiphae spat. "I thought I had dealt with that accursed witch once and for all. Yet now I find that she has threatened my son. Does she know who he is?"
"I believe that she did indeed know who Jason is. Circe may not have possessed my level of prescience but she could read enough of the auguries to understand Jason's nature."
"I will destroy her for this."
"I do not think you will need to act," the Oracle answered. "I believe that Jason has dealt with the problem for you."
"How so?"
"Can you not feel it?" the Oracle asked. "Circe is no longer in the land of the living."
"You know full well that my abilities do not extend in the same direction as yours," Pasiphae snapped.
The Oracle nodded.
"Of course," she murmured. "Circe made the error of threatening that which Jason holds most dear: his friends. She paid dearly for her mistake."
"I cannot regret her destruction. I only wish I had had the chance to see it."
"She was your sister," the Oracle pointed out.
"She was not my only sister and it is a long time since we were anything other than enemies. She was jealous and bitter… consumed by hatred. Circe laid the seeds of her own destruction. She chose her path a long time ago."
"As you have chosen yours."
"We have all chosen our own paths through life," Pasiphae snapped. "Even you."
"And now Jason must choose his path," the Oracle said softly. "Is that what concerns you? That he may not choose the path that you desire?"
"My concerns are more immediate than that," Pasiphae answered sharply. "It is the present that concerns me not the future."
"I cannot presume to help you with the present," the Oracle stated. "I am a seer but I only see the future… and only so far as the Gods permit me to see."
"You forget," Pasiphae retorted. "I know you better than that Phemonoe. I know how far your gifts extend and what limitations there are on them. I know only too well that you see the past as well as the future and that your knowledge extends far beyond the realisation of most men."
"I have told you that name no longer belongs to me."
"Yet I feel that under the circumstances it is appropriate," Pasiphae said. "I have not come to speak with you as the Oracle of Poseidon but as Phemonoe, the woman I have known for a great many years."
"What is it that you want Pasiphae?" the Oracle asked sharply.
"I need your help," Pasiphae professed through gritted teeth. It went against the grain to ask the Oracle for any assistance. "I believe that Jason may require your guidance once more."
"Then why has he not come to me himself?" the Oracle enquired. "Jason has never been afraid to ask for my guidance when he believed he needed it."
Pasiphae hesitated.
"He has been unwell," she admitted shortly. "It was not a dangerous illness," she went on noting the Oracle's fearful look, "but it was sudden and its symptoms were severe. Jason is only now regaining his strength and the doctor felt it prudent that he should remain largely confined to the Palace for the time being."
The Oracle looked searchingly at her.
"Already you are changing Pasiphae," she observed. "Already he has worked his way into your heart. How does it feel to know that there is another person who holds so much power over you? To know that he holds your heart in his hands?"
"Jason holds nothing of me."
"He is your blood. Your child. You cannot deny your love for him. You cannot prevent Jason from changing you – from entering your heart – just as you cannot prevent him from fulfilling his destiny. Only the Gods can do that."
"Your faith is your weakness," Pasiphae sneered, unable to stop herself from reacting to the Oracle's words.
"And Jason is yours," the Oracle bit back.
"I did not come to wrangle with you," Pasiphae stated. "Much as it galls me to ask for your help it is what I must do." She paused. "Your mention of Circe was perhaps timely… although I do not come to speak of that witch but of my other sister. I believe there is a good chance that my son has inherited his aunt's gifts… your gifts. Your curse. At present I believe he is only just beginning to touch at the edges of those gifts. I would not have him destroyed by those forces. He will need your guidance."
"Why?" the Oracle almost gasped. "Why would you think such a thing? What could make you believe that Jason has inherited those abilities?"
"He has dreams," Pasiphae began slowly.
"Everyone dreams," the Oracle answered dismissively.
"Not like this," Pasiphae answered. "I have had the occasion to observe his sleep frequently during his recent illness. His dreams are dark and his sleep troubled. He will not speak of what he sees in the waking world but he murmurs in his sleep… mentions things that he could not know or things that have not yet come to pass."
"This is not necessarily an indication that he has the abilities that you mentioned," the Oracle protested.
"Do not take me for a fool," Pasiphae snapped. "If this were all then I too would dismiss it as the troublesome fever induced dreaming of a young man who was ill and vulnerable… but there have been other… indications; worrying signs."
The Oracle looked at her seriously.
"I have never taken you for a fool," she murmured, "and if your meaning is truly to protect Jason then for once our purposes may be aligned. Come and be seated. If we are to talk then we may as well be comfortable."
She led Pasiphae to the far side of the chamber where a low bench had been carved out of the rock that the walls were formed from and hidden from the view of the rest of the room by a pair of pillars.
"Now," she said as they sat. "What has made you suspect that Jason possesses this gift?"
"Is it a gift or is it a curse?" Pasiphae mused.
The Oracle sighed.
"It is both," she said softly. "Many would see it as a great blessing from the Gods and yet it is a heavy burden to bear… and one that he will have to learn to live with if you are indeed correct."
Pasiphae sighed.
"I have no proof," she admitted. "It is more a feeling; a suspicion. Four days ago the King took Jason to his meeting with Anaxandros. Minos tells me that Anaxandros behaved in a treacherous manner – only to be expected given his nature – and held a knife to Jason's throat. Jason disconcerted him completely by telling a story… and yet it is a story that he could not possibly have known."
"And what was the story?" the Oracle asked.
"He spoke of the last time Anaxandros visited Atlantis… when Aeson was still King and Jason was still only a baby – less than a year old. There was an occasion when Anaxandros was found alone in Jason's nursery and the child was sobbing. At the time we noticed that his wrist seemed a little red but Aeson believed there to be a logical explanation and as Jason had returned to his usual good temper within a short time neither one of us thought much more of the matter. Jason claimed that Anaxandros had in fact deliberately twisted his wrist around – had sought to harm him – and Minos believed from Anaxandros' reaction that the boy had spoken the truth… but therein lies the problem…"
The Oracle frowned.
"Go on," she said.
"Minos believed that I had told Jason the story; that I had prepared him for his meeting with the Amphigeneian King by instructing him to tell it at the most opportune moment and thereby throw Anaxandros off balance… but I had not. I had not even thought of the incident for more than twenty years and did not suspect Anaxandros of deliberately attempting to hurt my son anyway. If I had even imagined such an occurrence all those years ago I would have acted in a very different manner," Pasiphae paused. "Once he was aware that I had not prepared Jason with the story, the King speculated as to whether the boy could have simply remembered the incident. Yet that cannot be true. Jason was far too young to have any such memory."
"There are some memories that can never be erased," the Oracle murmured, "but in this case I would suspect you are right. This is not something that Jason should be able to remember." She looked sharply at Pasiphae. "It would be as well to keep these suspicions between ourselves until we are sure that Jason does indeed possess the talent you are suggesting. If what you believe is true then it will be yet one more thing for him to have to adapt to… and he has already had a great deal placed upon his shoulders. It do not think it would be wise to worry Jason unnecessarily for the present. Does Minos suspect anything?"
"I believe not," Pasiphae stated with certainty. "I led him to believe that Jason must have been told the story by the chief royal physician and simply remembered what he had been told at the right moment."
"There is no chance that that is the actual truth?"
"None," the Queen answered. "Mnesus was not present in Atlantis during the visit of King Hagnon and his son Anaxandros. The old Queen had travelled to the Palace at Cynus – this was before it was destroyed – do you remember? She had been taken ill and Mnesus had gone to tend to her. He was gone for more than a month and by the time he returned Hagnon and Anaxandros were well on their way back to Amphigeneia. The incident was long since over and I doubt anyone would even have thought to mention it to him. It was after all a small occurrence in our lives. Of more concern at the time was the fact that Jason's nurse had inconveniently died and needed to be replaced. There were no servants available at the time when Anaxandros was discovered alone with Jason and as it was the only other people in the room were Aeson and myself. There is no-one that Mnesus could have learned the story from… which leaves only one real conclusion."
"That Jason somehow 'saw' what happened," the Oracle murmured. "You said that Anaxandros had a knife to Jason's throat… what were the exact circumstances under which Jason told the story?" Her voice was urgent somehow, even though she outwardly appeared calm.
"I did not dare ask Minos directly for fear of drawing too much of the King's attention to the incident… yet I think I have learned the truth of events. Minos and Anaxandros were sparring verbally when Minos introduced the idea of Jason's parentage. Anaxandros is using an obscure clause in the old peace treaty to make his spurious claim to Atlantis and the lack of an heir descending from Cretheus and Aeson is central to that claim. The King had hoped that the news of Jason's survival would throw Anaxandros off balance and he was right. What he failed to anticipate was that Anaxandros is both treacherous and faithless. He produced a knife and threatened Jason with it; holding to to the boy's throat. The King informed me that when Anaxandros caught hold of Jason the boy gave a strange smile and began spouting his story in a somewhat distracted tone of voice. Anaxandros believed it to be witchcraft."
"And if it was indeed a vision that Jason experienced then Anaxandros would not be too far wrong," the Oracle said, "although you and I both know that it is not actually witchcraft." She paused thoughtfully. "It was triggered in the moment Anaxandros touched him." She looked sharply at Pasiphae. "Does Jason know?"
"I do not believe Jason has realised what happened," Pasiphae answered. "The knife blade was tainted with poison and Anaxandros managed to nick him with it. It made him quite unwell and I believe that for the present any strangeness associated with the meeting has been driven from his mind; that he has put any feelings he had down to illness."
"Let it stay that way for the present," the Oracle said. "I will talk with Jason and try to discover the truth about his dreams. Perhaps he will be open with me – although I believe it is in his nature to be somewhat reticent. He does not, I think, enjoy talking about himself and if he believes that this is a secret he must keep to himself there will be little anyone can do to draw it out of him."
"And if you fail?"
The Oracle gave a strange soft smile.
"There is another way that I can find the truth," she admitted, "but I will not use it unless it should prove necessary. If Jason does indeed possess the gift of foresight in any degree he will not be able to hide it for long."
"That is what I fear," Pasiphae said quickly. "There are those in court who will fear Jason for his very existence. If they were to realise that he possessed any unnatural abilities… You know as well as I that your gift is as feared as it is revered and there are those who would seek to harm or to exploit Jason were he to possess the same ability."
"Is that an immediate danger?"
"No," Pasiphae answered. "Only a handful of people know of Jason's identity and none of them would dare to act openly against him. Minos is determined that Jason will have the choice of where his future lies and that none will be allowed to force the boy into a decision. To that end he has kept the knowledge of Jason's existence a secret. While I believe my fears to be valid they are fears for the future rather than the present."
"If you are right in your suspicions then Jason must be taught control over his own abilities. Too many seers have been driven mad by the visions they see," the Oracle stated. "But first we must know the truth of the matter. We must know if Jason does indeed possess the gift."
"I believe…"
Whatever it was Pasiphae was about to say was cut off by the sound of the warning bell tolling in the distance; even in the inner sanctum below the Temple its sound could be dimly heard. The Queen looked up sharply.
"It appears that any further discussion must wait," she said. "I must return to the Palace immediately."
Without further word she rose and swept out of the chamber, hurrying up the steps to the main Temple above. Behind her the Oracle sat deep in thought, mind turned towards both her own visions and the plans she must now make.
Minos looked up from the parchment he was reading as the door to the meeting room opened and his daughter and stepson hurried inside. Jason, he noticed, was hovering protectively close to Ariadne, one hand clasping the hilt of the knife attached to his belt as his eyes darted around suspiciously, on the lookout for any threat. Minos couldn't say that he disapproved under the circumstances. The young man held the Princess' chair for her before moving to the seat alongside her at Minos' nodded instruction.
The King frowned faintly. Both young people were dressed for an outdoor excursion and he found himself wondering whether his wife's son should have been engaged in such activity given his mother's belief that the boy was resting. There were many other things Minos should be thinking of of course – many affairs of state that naturally weighed heavily on his mind – and yet he could not help but eye Jason up thoughtfully; the paternal instinct in him demanding that he ensure the young man's welfare.
The boy was not as pale as he had been, Minos noted with some pleasure, and the fresh air had at least blown a little extra colour into his cheeks. Yet the dark smudges under his eyes told the King that his stepson was not getting enough rest and there was a general faint air of weariness about him that Minos suspected even Jason was unaware of.
"You have come from the gardens?" he asked seriously.
"Yes," Ariadne answered. "I was walking in the grounds when I came across Jason taking some fresh air. We came inside as soon as the warning bell sounded and Pythagoras – Jason's friend – said that you wanted to see us both here."
"Indeed I did," Minos stated. He turned to Jason. "I am pleased to see that you are feeling so much better," he said.
"Thank you Your Majesty," Jason murmured.
"However your mother led me to believe that you were resting in your chambers this afternoon," Minos continued. "I am therefore somewhat surprised to hear that you were out of doors and not where you were believed to be."
"The doctor said I could start going outside for a little while," Jason protested defensively. "I needed to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. I promise I wasn't overdoing it. I'm just not good at being stuck inside for too long and I wanted a bit of time to myself," he finished quietly.
Minos watched the young man carefully.
"I know what Mnesus said," he admitted, "and the need for solitude now and then is fully understandable… but do not make the mistake of defying your mother too openly – I do not think any of us wish to experience her temper."
Jason nodded and looked at the table, resisting the urge to bite his lip at the implied reprimand – however gently it was delivered.
"Pythagoras informed us that the Amphigeneians have broken the truce and attacked once more," Ariadne said.
"They have," Minos answered. "Although it hardly comes as a surprise. The four days allotted for Anaxandros' response have passed. He sent a missive this morning rejecting my claim that you are Aeson's son and informing me that the siege would once again begin."
"You suspected this would happen though," Ariadne stated.
"I knew it would," Minos agreed. "Anaxandros is merely using the clause in the old treaty as a means to claim what he desires – the throne of Atlantis. He would never have accepted anything less than a full capitulation on my part and knew that he would not get that. His army outnumbers ours by at least four to one and they have had sufficient time to construct their siege engines now. Still our walls are strong and our soldiers stout hearted… and we have bought time for our allies to draw ever nearer."
"So what happens now?" Jason asked, his tone subdued.
"The siege has recommenced," the King answered. "The will continue to attack the walls and we will continue to repel them. Eventually – when they realise that the city will not fall so easily – Anaxandros will demand that our champions meet theirs in single combat… but that will not be for some weeks yet. For now we will endure." He paused. "I called you both here to do more than explain the basic situation," he admitted. "Much as it might distress me to do it I must inform you both that until such time as I deem it safe you must both be confined to the Palace and its gardens."
"Father," Ariadne protested, "the people will need to see that we do not fear; that we have not abandoned them."
"And they will not," Minos declared. "I will not cower behind doors – although much of my time must of necessity be taken up with affairs of state and may mean that I must absent myself from public duties – and the Queen will continue with those duties that I have not the time to fulfil at the Temple. I will not risk your life unnecessarily, however Ariadne… and your mother would skin me alive if I did not do everything in my power to ensure your safety," he added turning to Jason.
Jason looked at him seriously, determination already beginning to brew in his hazel eyes.
"My Lord, my name and my friends' names are already on the muster lists for defending the walls. They were just waiting for my knee to heal up and for Pythagoras to grow a bit stronger before they called us up with the other men," he began.
"Your names will be removed," the King said dismissively, mind already turning to the next matter.
"No!" Jason protested sharply. He flushed slightly as Minos turned a stern gaze on him, face darkening with anger at the young man's tone and eyebrow quirking imperiously.
"I am sorry My Lord," Jason went on, lowering his eyes to the table top. "I didn't mean to seem rude or snap… but Atlantis is my home. Some of the men called to defend the walls are my friends; my neighbours. How can I sit back and do nothing knowing that they're out there fighting for their lives and their homes? Knowing that they're dying while I'm tucked away in the safety of the Palace? You said that I would be free to leave once the meeting with Anaxandros was over."
Minos sighed.
"I said that you would be free to leave once the immediate problem of the Amphigeneians was over," he clarified softly, "which it is not yet. Jason I do understand your feelings in this matter but you must understand my position also. Anaxandros knows who you are. No matter what his missive states he knew that I spoke the truth about your identity as soon as you told that story of his last visit to Atlantis. I could see it in his eyes. He should also have received confirmation his own seers and priests. He will see you as an impediment. If others should learn of your identity then any hope he has of legitimising his treacherous activities in breaking the peace treaty by invoking the forgotten clause will be lost. Above all things he will want to be rid of you. If, by some mischance, he manages to break into the city his first act will be to see your life ended. I will not willingly place you in that danger."
"If the Amphigeneians break through the defences and get inside the city we'll all be fighting for our lives," Jason pointed out. "Besides… you said you wanted to keep it secret who my mother is… who I am. If I'm not on the list sooner or later someone's going to notice and start talking."
"Are you that well known in the city then?" Minos asked with a faintly amused smile.
"No," Jason answered. "But Hercules is… and my neighbours know me – at least by sight – so if I'm not on the list at all – if I'm not part of the defence at all – they will realise eventually."
"As neither you nor your friends have been into the lower town for some days perhaps those people who know you will believe that the three of you are not in the city at all," Minos stated. "They may think you were outside the city when the siege commenced and were unable to return."
"No," Jason answered softly. "The day the siege began Hercules ran into Eupalinus from next door and they had a long chat about Eupalinus' son coming back from Pathmos – Eupalinus really isn't too happy about it… I'm not sure what his son did but he really didn't want him to come home…"
He trailed off as he spotted Minos' eyebrows raising even further and Ariadne shooting him a confused and incredulous look.
"Sorry," he muttered, dropping his head again. "I'm rambling aren't I?"
"Yes," Ariadne answered flatly.
"My point was that our neighbour's knew Hercules was in Atlantis the day the siege started and would have seen the soldiers coming to the house to record who lived there and what weapons we had," Jason went on. "They'll know we're still in the city somewhere even if we're not at home. Sooner or later someone's going to start asking questions. Besides, this is our city and I'm not going to see it fall to these savages… or to sit back and do nothing while others die on my behalf. Atlantis is my home… the only place I've ever really been made to feel welcome… and I will not stand idly by and see it destroyed."
Jason sat back, breathing hard; his chest suddenly tighter than it had been. He gave a sharp cough and dropped his head even further, trying to get more air into his lungs.
Minos frowned.
"We will discuss this further when you are no longer recuperating," he said firmly. "For the present you are not well enough to join the defence on the walls regardless of any other consideration. I will give thought to all you have said but you must accept that my decision will be final and I will brook no argument." He glared at his stepson. "I will be obeyed."
The look Jason gave him in return could have been construed as semi-defiant. Minos allowed his own face to darken somewhat. He was absolutely certain that this was not the last time he would end up battling his strong-willed stepson but he was determined that Jason would obey him in this matter – as he had said he fully intended to give due consideration to the lad's opinion but that did not mean that he intended to accept any opposition to his dictates.
Noticing that Jason's head was still bowed and he appeared a little breathless, Minos' frown took on a worried note. Damn it all the boy was still not fully well yet. He should be concentrating on fully regaining his health and not worrying about going out to fight. Without another thought the King rang a bell which sat on the table in front of him to summon the ever present servant from their station outside the door to the room.
"Bring a flagon of warm spiced wine and drinking vessels," he instructed. He turned back to Jason. "The warmth should soothe your chest a little," he added.
Jason nodded, still looking down at his own lap. Minos reached across the table and tucked two fingers under the lad's chin, raising his face until Jason was forced to meet his eyes.
"Do not defy me," the King said softly.
"I don't mean to Sire," Jason murmured. He hesitated for a moment. "I'm just not used to anyone telling me what to do," he admitted.
Minos looked at him quizzically.
"You have had no-one to whom you were answerable?" he asked incredulously.
Jason shrugged without thinking then winced, knowing that Pasiphae had informed him that it was a gesture which neither she nor Minos were fond of.
"Not since I was about thirteen," he admitted. "I mean there were people that I lived with until I grew up but none of them were ever all that bothered about what I did."
The King frowned and nodded. In a bizarre way it made sense. The young man's apparent lack of respect for his authority all those months ago when he had ended up sentencing both Jason and his friends to the bull court was more understandable now – it did not stem from any disrespect either for him or for the Gods but more from a lack of understanding on Jason's part of the deference one should show to one's betters. If the boy had truly not been answerable to anyone before – had not received the care and attention that he had been due as a child – both his independence and wilfulness were much more understandable. He would require careful guidance and more nurturing than Minos would perhaps have expected for a young man of his age – yet the King found himself almost looking forwards to the challenge that Jason would provide.
The boy was like a colt; high spirited, half wild and as yet untamed. He had many good qualities that needed fostering and several bad habits that needed breaking but all in all Minos had decided some days back that he liked what he saw. A question mark still remained about the level of education the boy would require; as yet there had been no opportunity to assess the level he had already received. Perhaps it would be best to assume that he had received nothing above a rudimentary level (although the fact that he could read and write indicated that he had at least received some formal schooling) and then there could be no disappointment if testing revealed that Jason would need to start his education again at the beginning.
Of course all this relied on the lad taking up the offer that Minos intended to make to him once the situation with the Amphigeneians was if not resolved then at least deescalated. Although he could still not be completely sure that the boy would accept his offer the longer Jason stayed with them at the Palace the more likely it seemed to become. While the relationship the lad was developing with his mother was still very fragile and very new there did seem to be genuine affection forming on both sides and Minos was hopeful that Jason would accept his proposal even if it was simply out of curiosity and to gain the chance to learn more about his own family background.
The door to the chamber opened and the King looked up expecting to see the servant he had despatched for wine re-entering – although the man was taking his own sweet time in getting here. Was he pressing the grapes personally? It was a surprise therefore when, far from the obsequious servant he was anticipating seeing, Pasiphae entered bearing a silver tray with an ornate jug and four decorated goblets.
"The servant was at the door when I arrived," she said calmly in answer to Minos' questioning look. "I believed that it would be preferable to have no interruptions." She swept the room with a glance, her eyes narrowing as she spotted her son. "Would you care to explain why you are dressed for the outdoors when I can clearly remember leaving you to rest no more than an hour ago?" she asked Jason frostily.
Jason winced.
"I wasn't tired enough to sleep," he answered quietly, "and I wasn't exactly relaxing lying and looking at the ceiling either. I went for a little walk in the gardens to try and clear my head a bit… I needed to get some fresh air. I wasn't going to stay out there all that long and I did wrap up like I'd been told to. The warning bell went off before I could come in though and then His Majesty sent for me."
Pasiphae took in the weary slump to the boy's shoulders and the way the breath seemed to catch slightly in the back of his throat with a distinct frown.
"Indeed," she said sharply, "and yet it would appear that you have still managed to overexert yourself at the first available opportunity."
"I'm fine," Jason protested. "I'm just a bit tired now."
"Perhaps," Pasiphae retorted, "but you will not be going outside without permission again."
"I had the doctor's permission," Jason argued softly.
"Yes," Pasiphae snapped, "but you did not have mine." She frowned again as Jason fought to suppress another sharp cough and reached for the jug she had brought in, pouring out a goblet of warm wine. "Here," she said more gently, "you should find the warmth of the wine eases your chest." She reached out one slender hand and rested the back of it firmly on the young man's forehead even as she handed him the cup with the other. "If nothing else it should help to warm you up," she added, her frown deepening at the chill she felt from her son's skin.
Jason approximated a smile in her direction.
"Thank you," he murmured, sipping at the wine.
Pasiphae's eyes softened although her expression remained severe.
"As soon as we are finished here you will be going straight to bed, silly boy," she said briskly. "You are rapidly regaining your strength and health but this will not happen without rest. Do as you are told now and I may consider a short walk in the fresh air tomorrow as long as you are well rested beforehand."
Her son regarded her mutinously.
"I'm sorry," he said sarcastically. "I didn't know I had to ask permission to leave my room. Next time I'll make sure that you're fully informed. Perhaps you'd like me to send someone to tell you when I need to use the latrine?"
Pasiphae drew in a sharp breath, stung enough to snap back, her eyes flashing dangerously. Before she could say anything, however, Minos jumped in, his face darkening dangerously.
"I thought I had made it clear to you that I would not tolerate any lack of courtesy or respect towards your mother," he said sharply. "You will learn to moderate your tone or you will face the consequences." He held Jason's eyes until their expression changed from mutinous and angry to anxious and guilty, watching as the lad flushed and looked down at the table. "I trust you understand my meaning."
"Yes My Lord," the young man muttered. He looked back up at Pasiphae. "I'm sorry," he said. "I am tired… My friends have told me in the past that I tend to get cranky when I'm overly tired… I think the words Hercules used were 'grumpy two year old'."
Pasiphae arched an eyebrow, her eyes boring into her son. Jason returned her gaze steadily, an apology swimming in his hazel eyes. Finally Pasiphae sighed and reached out one hand to brush his hair away from his eyes.
"I am not ordering you around for fun Jason," she said softly. "What happened with Anaxandros frightened me and I have no wish to see you become that unwell again."
"I really am sorry," Jason said again. "I don't like worrying people."
It still felt strange to think that these people had been worried about him; that anyone worried about him – although it was something he had had to get used to with his friends.
"I'm alright now anyway," he went on. "I'm just getting a bit more tired than normal that's all."
"Indeed," Pasiphae responded, "and because of that you need to rest when you are told. I only want what is best for you."
The young man nodded and looked down at the table top again, feeling more than a little awkward and bashful at the scrutiny he was receiving.
Minos watched him for a moment, gauging whether or not his reprimand had truly been understood, before turning back to his wife.
"You were not here when the missive from Anaxandros was received my love," he commented.
Pasiphae bristled at the perceived criticism.
"I had need to consult the Oracle," she answered sharply, "and I was fulfilling my other duties at the Temple. I was there when the warning bell sounded and hastened to return as quickly as possible."
"Your devotion to your duty is as always admirable," Minos affirmed earnestly.
"I presume that Anaxandros has acted as we expected," Pasiphae stated.
"It is as you say," Minos agreed. "The Amphigeneian King has rejected our statements and denied our claims as to your son's parentage. He has ordered an end to the truce and his men have begun the attack once more. I requested the presence of both Jason and Ariadne that we might discuss what this will mean for all of us."
"Very well," Pasiphae said. "Then let us begin our discussion properly."
The attacks on the walls over the next few days were brutal but mercifully brief. They tended to follow a distinct pattern. First the Amphigeneian catapults would pound the walls while the defenders huddled down as best they could, trying to stay out of sight and out of the line of fire. More and more of the houses near the city walls began to show signs of the conflict; pockmarks appearing in the stone walls and holes in the roofs. Increasingly the occupants began to abandon their homes and take refuge in the Temple or one of the hastily constructed refugee camps that had sprung up in the squares and open spaces of the upper town. The largest camp was in the courtyard in front of the Temple – a place desperation, starvation and sickness. The city – already weakened by the recent epidemic – began to weaken even further.
Once the catapults had done their work the enemy archers would begin to fire at the walls. Sometimes the arrows would be dipped in pitch and set to burn. The defenders would creep forward with shields raised above their heads to try to ward off the falling projectiles, knowing that the enemy infantry would be following shortly behind and that they would need to be prepared. It was a risky business and more than one Atlantian defender fell not to get up again.
Eventually the arrows would stop and the men on the walls would know that the most acute phase of the attack was imminent. The Amphigeneians would charge forwards with battering rams and siege ladders, fighting tooth and nail to get inside the city. In their most serious attacks Aries, their giant ram, would trundle ponderously across the plain to batter at the great Telapius Gate, striving to find a weakness in the defences.
So far every attack had been repulsed comprehensively although even rotating the men on the walls the defenders were growing increasingly tired. Nevertheless, at present the numbers of Amphigeneian dead were still outweighing the Atlantian defenders at the end of each attack. Increasingly though there were empty seats at the supper tables in the city; beds that would not be slept in again. A grim determination settled in across Atlantis; a resolve to survive in the face of all odds.
Hercules slipped through the anxious streets purposefully. It was all very well staying up at the Palace and he wasn't about to leave Jason for the world but there were still people in the lower town that he knew and cared for and wanted to check on. Besides, while he knew that the King was getting information directly from the military commanders on the walls there was one perspective he was still overlooking – that of the ordinary citizens. In order to truly gauge the mood of the city and really know what was going on you needed to get information from the people who lived their everyday lives there – and that was something that Hercules suspected Minos would not even consider.
He paused at a corner to allow a death cart to rumble past, carrying the victims of the latest skirmish for proper burial. Hercules swore softly to himself and muttered a quick prayer to the Gods both for the rest of the poor unfortunates who had been killed and in thanks that as yet both he and those he knew had been spared. Truthfully he had hoped that with the end of the plague that had gripped the city so recently he would have seen an end to the use of death carts; that there would be no more need for mass burials.
Once the cart had gone on its way the stocky wrestler looked up again. He had paused beside a tavern – one of the ones he didn't regularly frequent. Perhaps it was a sign that he should nip inside and just have a little drink to fortify himself? Hercules shook himself, sternly reminding himself that the boys would be anxiously awaiting his return at the Palace. If he took too long they might take it into their heads to come searching for him. Given that Jason was still largely confined to the Palace and its grounds (which Hercules wholeheartedly agreed with given the lad's recent precarious health) the big man could not see that going down well.
Actually both boys were almost back to full health – praise the Gods. Hercules shuddered. He had come too close to losing Pythagoras recently and seeing either him or Jason ill or in pain was never easy. No he needed to get on with his business as quickly as possible and return to his friends. Then there could be no chance of either one of them doing anything rash like trying to evade the guards to come to find him (although somehow he doubted that Pythagoras would do something so reckless without prompting from his partner in crime – Jason on the other hand was far more impulsive). But it would only be one little drink and he was thirsty. Surely the boys wouldn't begrudge him a small cup of wine to ward off the chill of the day? Plus he had always had good luck in finding information when he was in the tavern. There was always at least one garrulous drunk who was willing to talk. He resolutely ignored the little voice inside that told him that said garrulous drunk was usually him.
Hercules shook himself again. No! There would be time enough for a drink later. For now he needed to move. Decision made he set off again, casting one last longing look over his shoulder at the comforts of the tavern.
The streets were busier than he had thought they would be actually, although there was a dark undertone of anxiety that was not usually present and there were far less goods on display for sale. Having lived through the civil war Hercules knew that most of the populous would be hunkering down and stockpiling their supplies, preparing to endure for as long as necessary. The longer the siege went on the fewer goods there would be for sale and the Atlantian citizenry knew it. Those merchants that were plying their wares today had already put their prices up in anticipation of demand rapidly outstripping supply. Hercules shook his head bitterly. There were always those who seemed ready to profit from the misfortunes of their neighbours.
It was common to see the odd member of the city guard out in the streets on any normal day, usually patrolling in pairs and ensuring the smooth running of the agora by being a visible presence to put off thieves and miscreants from causing trouble. They were never far out of earshot of others of their units so that a swift response to any trouble could take place. Often they were to be found bullying the vendors into giving them free food or drink or strutting past the rest of the populous with an arrogance born of the power their positions afforded them.
Now there seemed to be guards everywhere that Hercules looked. He should have expected it, he supposed. Some of them were just heading back to barracks following a night spent on the city walls and others were heading towards the walls to relieve the citizens who currently manned them. Then there were those who were responsible for ensuring the normal functioning and safe running of the city and preventing looting, and those responsible for ensuring that those ordinary citizens due to take their turn on the walls did not shirk their duty.
Hercules frowned again. Much as he had no real desire to return to the chaos of a large battle – no wish to remind himself of the terror and the horror that fighting in the closely packed streets of Atlantis had brought during the civil war – he knew that it was inevitable sooner or later unless a swift resolution were brought to the current siege and the Amphigeneians packed up and went home (which was looking more and more unlikely as time went on). He also understood Jason's upset at the thought that Minos might take his name off the list of citizens required to take part in the defence of the city. This was their city – their home – and their friends were here. Part of the problem, he decided, was that essentially Minos had long since lost contact with the ordinary people (if he had ever really understood them to begin with – something which the burly wrestler privately doubted). The King spoke often about the duty and loyalty that the people owed to the city and its ruling family but Hercules doubted that he truly understood what that meant to a boy like Jason for whom loyalty, duty, honour and tenacity were a way of life – were a basic and essential part of his character.
The big man sighed softly. Both his boys were unswervingly loyal and steadfast to their friends and to the city that they had adopted – and that had adopted them. To ask either Pythagoras or Jason to watch their friends and neighbours risking their lives while they themselves sat back and did nothing was simply not an option. Hercules applauded Minos' desire to keep his stepson safe (and to extend that to the boy's friends to try to ensure Jason's peace of mind) but he couldn't help thinking that there would be less trouble in the long run if he found a way for Jason to take part in the defence of the city in some way – even if it was in a safer capacity than fighting on the walls – because as sure as the sun rose in the morning Jason would find some way around the restriction and into the battle – and Hercules knew that he and Pythagoras would be right there with the lad when that happened.
Lost in thought the burly wrestler walked past his destination and out onto the Sacred Way. He swore loudly, making several people turn to stare at him disapprovingly. Hercules resisted the urge to tell them to mind their own business and turned back around to head a short way back down the side street he had emerged from.
Letting himself in through an unremarkable doorway he paused at the bottom of a flight of stairs and blew out a breath. It was time for him to find out what was really going on in the city – information that would not reach the King's ears via "official" channels. With a soft smile to himself, Hercules mounted the stairs and knocked at the door at the top. The door opened and the big man stepped inside.
Jason allowed his eyes to adjust to the cool darkness of the Temple and looked around himself with a frown. Even with the presence of so many refugees – both from within the city and without – the place still retained an air of serenity; a sense of peace and timelessness that called to him in exactly the same way it had the first time he had come here on his first day in the city. He still wasn't entirely sure what being 'touched by the Gods' entailed so maybe it was only natural that this was a place of safety for him; one of the few places he actually felt at home. Part of him still couldn't quite believe that he and Ariadne had managed to persuade Minos to allow them to leave the Palace for a short time in spite of the King's objections – although if he were being honest with himself he would have to admit that it was more Ariadne than him; the Princess' manipulation of her father had been masterful. It seemed that Ariadne's powers of persuasion far surpassed anything that would have been expected of the apparently innocent girl and even Pasiphae – mistress of the art of manipulation that she was – had looked suitably impressed as the Princess had deployed every weapon in her arsenal to get what she wanted.
In the end Ariadne had managed to persuade her father that there was little risk to her attending her duties at the Temple – especially if she used the secret passageway that linked the two complexes – and had submitted to having extra guards to ensure her safety. She had promised to return to the Palace the instant that there was any hint of danger to her from the besieging Amphigeneian forces and had pointed out that even if the enemy made it past the city walls they would still have to fight their way through the streets of both the lower and upper towns before they came anywhere near approaching the Citadel and that this would give both her and her guardians ample time to retreat to the relative safety of the Palace. She did not point out that by the time any attackers breached the Temple the battle would have been lost anyway, prudently feeling that it would be unwise to draw her father's attention to any such eventuality.
Jason's own position was somewhat trickier. He couldn't exactly be surrounded by a contingent of guards without someone asking awkward questions and the risk that his true identity might be discovered was more than he felt he could cope with at the moment. After all he really hadn't decided what he was going to do once the Amphigeneian siege was over. Yet Minos had been unwilling for him to leave the Palace grounds without protection. Jason frowned at the thought. He was perfectly capable of defending himself; had proved that over and over again in the months since he had come to Atlantis; was by now more than a little proficient with a sword. Minos, however, would not be swayed. Once again it had been Ariadne who had provided the solution. She had suggested to her father that, as he had publically announced that Jason had been made a champion of Atlantis as a way of explaining his stepson's presence at his side during his meeting with Anaxandros, it might be appropriate to formally anoint the young man as such and to seek the Gods' blessing for his appointment. Then his presence as a member of the retinue guarding the Princess on her visits to the Temple would not be remarkable.
Surprisingly she had been backed up by Pasiphae – although perhaps that was more a move of self-preservation than anything. Her dark haired son was beginning to climb the walls as his enforced confinement grated upon him and his temper was becoming noticeably worse. Jason sighed. He didn't intend to take his frustration out on anyone to be honest but he'd never really fared all that well when forced to stay indoors and in company for protracted periods. Being truthful he was more used to solitude and his own company than that of other people and could only handle so much before he told the world to bugger off. At the moment he didn't even seem to be able to settle down to read (which to his mind was a distinctly solitary pastime that needed no input from anyone else) without someone coming and asking what he was doing and whether he was alright. All in all he was going seriously stir crazy and needed some form of release.
Minos, of course, had really stood no chance when his wife and daughter had ganged up on him. For all he was the King and most definitely master of the house he knew better than to upset the two women in his life. He had given Ariadne a shrewd look and countered her suggestion with one of his own; that Jason would be allowed to go to the Temple with the other members of the family and would not be required to stay near them while they were there (so as not to draw unwanted suspicions about his presence at the side of the King and Queen) as long as he agreed to leave when they did and didn't stray too far from the soldiers that surrounded them. Much as Jason hated the idea of being restricted like this, he supposed it was the best compromise that the King could come up with.
It helped as well that he had received a timely summons from the Oracle a little while ago. Jason wasn't entirely sure what she would want this time and was still a little wary of talking to her at the moment in spite of the encounter he had had with the naiads in the Sanctuary a few days earlier (because after all she had still kept some pretty big secrets from him from the moment they had met and he still couldn't quite shake the vague feeling of anger at her lies) but his good manners and natural curiosity had won out. The Oracle had always tried to be kind at least, he reminded himself firmly ruthlessly clamping down on his own anger. From the first moment he had arrived in Atlantis she had been there for him; constantly on his side. The warmth with which she greeted him – even at times when he had railed against her and the Gods – was not something that he could easily forget and her kindly delivered advice had pushed him into trusting his friends with more of himself than he would have believed himself able to… and she had been correct in her advice; thanks to her gentle prodding he had ended up allowing his friends to heal some of the cracks in his heart and had found himself happier than he remembered being since early childhood.
Now he found himself lurking in the shadow of a pillar with Pythagoras at his side making light and lazy conversation as he waited for the Seeress to be free. Minos had declared his own need to consult the Oracle and the King's needs naturally took precedence over anything else. The trip to the Temple had almost taken on the role of a family outing, Jason thought wryly. Pasiphae had come along to fulfil some of her own duties and was currently praying at the main bomos and Ariadne had tacked herself onto the back of the group and was wandering amongst the pillars comforting the wounded and displaced. Jason smiled softly to himself. The people had good reason to love their Princess. Ariadne clearly cared for them and worried about their wellbeing in ways that the rest of her family did not appear to. That was not to say that the King did not care for his people; it was more that he lacked an understanding of their problems and could not relate to them on a personal level.
A sudden flurry of movement caught Jason's attention and he turned in time to see little Castiantiera hurtling across the floor of the Temple towards him, her eyes bright and a beaming smile on her little face.
"Jason!" she crowed as she drew closer. "I've missed you."
Jason smiled and swept the child up into his arms.
"Cassie," he greeted the child. "Where's your father?" he added with a frown, peering around for Talos.
"Over there," Cassie answered with an airy wave of her hand towards the far side of the Temple.
"Does he know where you are?" Jason asked, his frown deepening. He knew only too well from past experience that Cassie had a tendency to wander off from her father whenever something caught her attention – something that cause Talos no end of worry.
"Of course he does silly," Cassie said firmly. "He told me I could come and see you." She frowned suddenly. "You left the other day," she pouted. "I wanted to see you and you weren't here."
"I'm sorry," Jason answered. "There was something I had to do."
"What?"
"It was a grown up thing," Jason responded. "It was very boring." He paused and looked at Cassie seriously, setting the child down on her feet and crouching down in front of her. "I thought you would have gone home by now though. What are you doing here today?"
"We did go home," Cassie answered, "but Daddy thought that our house was too close to the walls… I don't know why because it's always been there."
Jason half smiled.
"Your Daddy just wants to keep you safe," he said softly. He looked up and spotted Ariadne over behind a pillar and looked at Pythagoras with his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on," he said to Cassie. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
Taking the little girl's hand firmly in his own the young hero crossed the Temple floor and made his way over to Ariadne. The Princess turned to see him approach, her smile of welcome morphing into a questioning expression as she saw the child he was towing along with him.
For her part Cassie stared in open-mouthed wonder the closer they came to Ariadne, one hand firmly clutching her doll, Arisbe, and the other squeezing Jason's hand tightly. As they reached the Princess the little girl ducked behind her companion's legs and peered out shyly, clearly unable to believe that she was actually in Ariadne's presence.
Jason grinned openly and crouched down next to the child.
"Cassie," he said, "I'd like to introduce you to Her Royal Highness Princess Ariadne. Ariadne this is my friend Castianiera… she… erm… she rather idolises you."
Ariadne smiled softly and knelt down to the same level that the child was on.
"Hello Cassie," she said softly. "I am very pleased to meet you. Any friend of Jason's is a friend of mine."
Cassie stared back at her with huge eyes and bit her lip, trying to hide behind Jason as much as possible. Ariadne spotted the doll in the little girl's hand.
"And who is this?" she asked gently. "She is very pretty."
Cassie looked at Jason.
"It's alright," Jason encouraged. "Ariadne won't bite."
"Her name's Arisbe, My Lady," Cassie whispered. "She's my bestest friend in the whole wide world. Daddy made her a dress like yours."
"It's beautiful," Ariadne said. "Your Daddy must be a very clever man."
Somewhere outside a horn blared. Jason looked around with a frown, noting that Ariadne did the same.
"Would you mind staying here with Cassie while I check that out?" he murmured to the Princess.
"Of course," Ariadne responded. "I'm sure that Cassie will tell me all about Arisbe." She looked expectantly at the child.
By the time Jason got to the door of the Temple the first of the wounded were being brought in, to be pounced on immediately by the contingent of doctors and swept away to places where their wounds could be treated swiftly and properly. He was aware of Pythagoras at his elbow, already looking for a way to help. Then the great doors of the Temple swung inward again and a figure staggered in, blood streaming down the side of his face and a bundle of rags clutched in his arms. He collapsed to his knees and deposited the bundle on the floor in front of him. As he did so it became apparent that what he had carried was not a bundle of rags at all but a young girl, her hair hanging like a curtain over her face. The injured soldier who had brought her in reached out with trembling fingers to brush back the long strands. Jason's blood ran cold as he looked at the face of the girl. It was Amathea, the eldest of the girls he had helped to rescue from the slavers just a short time ago; the girl who had so bravely helped him to free the others. An arrow was buried deep in her chest.
"Please help me," the soldier begged. "She's hurt."
Somewhere nearby a woman screamed. Jason didn't even flinch or turn his head, his whole attention fixed on the child in front of him. He felt detached somehow; numb.
"Jason?" Pythagoras asked clutching his arm worriedly, even as his eyes darted towards the girl, itching to try to help.
"I promised her I'd make sure she was safe," Jason answered. He looked at Pythagoras blankly. "You have to help her."
Pythagoras knelt down at the side of the child, knowing in his heart that the location of the arrow meant that it was probably already too late. On the opposite side of the girl a middle aged woman fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
"Amathea," she sobbed. "I sent her out to find some bread," she said desperately. "The stalls near the Temple had all run out but I had heard that there were some nearer to the city walls that still had bread for sale… Please… my daughter… please."
Pythagoras bit his lip, tears already forming in his blue eyes. There was no discernible rise and fall to the girl's ruined chest and a quick, cursory touch with fingers more steady than he felt revealed no pulse. Unable to speak past the lump in his throat he shook his head slowly, bleakly. The answering wail from Amathea's mother told him that his meaning had been understood; there was nothing he could do here. The girl was already gone and there was nothing that Pythagoras could do to bring her back. He was vaguely aware of Jason drawing closer, his eyes burning into his friend. A middle aged man dropped down next to the girl's mother and blindly reached for the woman, drawing her into his arms to sob on his shoulder as he himself wept silently.
"I am so sorry," Pythagoras murmured in anguish. "I am so very sorry."
Unable to bear the couple's sorrow the mathematician looked back down at the girl, straightening her tumbled limbs and smoothing back her hair with one gentle hand. Someone would have to remove the arrow, he noted absently, but he hoped to the Gods it was not him. Finally he looked up again, eyes almost automatically seeking his friend. Jason was gone.