Nine: Association
Narcissus
Something cold and wet slaps my forehead. Daylight filters through my eyelids and I blink into the face of an unfamiliar man. Thin streaks of peppery grey run through his dark beard and his eyes are a piercing brown. Lines streak his forehead: he is on the verge of elderness.
'You gave me quite a fright you know.'
He speaks, voice low and strong. It contradicts his stature, which is small and unassuming.
'When someone bursts onto your property like that, of course you'd assume they were thieves, of course. However, when I saw your faces, I knew you couldn't possibly mean any harm.'
Right. Although its understated, once again it's my beauty that's saved the day.
'I have healed the wound I gave you,' he gestures to my temple,
'I apologise, it was done in haste.'
Clearing my throat, I give a gentle smile. Make sure he doesn't have anything to fear.
'No need to apologise, I would do the same if someone intruded on my property.'
Or have a servant dispose of them. I leave that part out though.
I sit up slowly on the kline where I've been placed and massage beneath my hair line until my fingers hit it. The skin is smooth, flawless even, uncut – the slightly aching bruise near non-existant.
'It feels like it never happened,' I state with genuine surprise. Of course, I heal extremely well, but it usually takes some time at least.
The man turns from his work and muses with a knowing smile,
'Well it would do. I'm gifted in that regard. Healing I mean, not making people forget past grievances. Now that would be a gift, ohoho!'
I observe the humble yet sturdy dwelling. The small doorway lets only a little light in, the limestone brickwork cool against my back. It seems to be a side room, equipped with a fireplace and chimney in a little alcove at the back, and all sorts of herbs and poultices lined up in jars and bowls on shelves along the wall.
'You're… a healer?' I question carefully.
'Why yes! Not just a pretty face are you?'
That slightly irks me, but I continue, hope growing in the face of this unusual male practitioner of a womanly profession.
'Do excuse my intrusion, but would you happen to know one Iapyx the healer?'
The man pauses again in his pottering and laughs out loud, a raucous, almost painful sound, and states,
'That would be yours truly!'
Well, the fates have smiled kindly on us today.
Us.
Us…
Oh for the love of –
'Icarus.' I mutter, barely audible, but the mention seems to catch the healer's attention.
'What was that?'
'You don't happen to know where the boy I came with went? Short, dark complexion, very curly hair, burn scar across the left side of his face?'
He shakes his head slightly,
'I do apologise, he ran off. I don't have a clue where to. I tried to call him back once I realised my mistake, but he flies away as fast as Hermes might.'
I almost laugh at the irony of his statement, before realising that the boy dropped everything and abandoned me. I mean, I know he doesn't fall for me like everyone else, but that's harsh. For all he knows he could have left me to a demon or a murderer. Coward.
…Then again, though the child seems terrified of Minos, he still needs me to help him find his father. Now I really consider it, it's possible he went to get help. If he even remembers where he's going…
I'm being far too optimistic.
Speaking of fathers,
'Forgive my intrusion Iapyx, but I was directed by an associate of mine that you know a man by the name of Daedalus?'
Though I try to utter this casually, with my sweetest, most trustworthy smile, Iapyx stops dead at the mere mention of the architect. He turns slowly to me with, again, the strange look that seems to accompany Daedalus' name.
'I… once came across the man, yes.' he starts slowly,
'We used to be acquaintances. Haven't heard from him in a long time. Why might I ask, are you enquiring?'
With his change in tone and quick suspicion, I take a hint and choose my next words carefully.
'He once did some work for me, on my property. However, some of the structure is falling into poor shape, weathering you see. I only wish to see if he can assist me in repairs.'
The healer takes his time to respond.
'If you don't mind me saying so sir, I don't think you're being completely honest with me.'
Even though the story was half true, he's not buying it for a second,
'Daedalus would never build anything sub-par.'
I'm surprised: very few people are able to discern a deception on my part. The dangerous glint that was in his eyes the moment before he first struck me has returned. Now he doesn't have surprise on his side however, I could take him down easily and run, but who knows how much influence he has. Our search would be hindered to say the least, and I don't particularly feel like gaining a reputation for beating up old men today.
Besides, he's our only lead. Despite my reluctance to give away too much, the truth may be the only way to get anywhere with him.
Icarus
'Ambushed? Whereabouts was this?'
Though there's urgency in her voice, Narcissus' slave girl (I really need to find out her name), seems completely unfazed, like this is an everyday thing. Either that or she doesn't care about Narcissus that much, which I find hard to believe.
'Not too far in the city gates, at the edge of the market district.'
She nods, then walks inside, to get someone I guess.
Instead of loads of people, she comes back with a small, pointed thing wrapped up in her hand.
'Aren't you going to get help?'
She gazes at me coldly,
'I am help.'
'Uh…'
She rolls her eyes.
'Well if it is really an ambush as you said, they would be expecting a legion of armed men to arrive, chariots blazing, sporting for a fight.'
She unwraps the cloth of the package slightly to show me a glinting blade.
'One unassuming shephh and a crippled boy however, they wouldn't see as a threat.'
She slips the blade underneath a fold of her skirt. It takes a second to realise what she just said.
'Wait, you're going to beat them? I mean, do you know what Minoan soldiers are like? And – hey what do you mean crippled?'
'They cannot be that hard to deal with if they let you get away.'
She brushes past me and begins to quickly pace down the path towards the market. I follow.
'Aren't we going to run?'
'Do you want to look suspicious?'
'You act like you've done this before.'
'You act like you haven't. Here, put this on. It'll make your features less obvious.'
There's a smirk as she tosses the light linen cloth the dagger was wrapped in at me – her eyes say a lot as they flick over my scars. She's not being mean, but you can tell she's enjoying this. I can't decide whether it makes her more or less pretty. Not that I'm thinking about that anyway. I'm more worried about how in hades the two of us are going to save Narcissus.
It takes what feels like a year to finally reach the side street (I don't have such an easy time remembering the way back – all the stalls and colours blend into each other) and we take a million and one detours. I've almost given up hope on even finding Narcissus alive when a shard of pottery jabs me in the foot.
'Here, it was here!'
The girl frowns,
'Are you sure?'
I nod vehemently, all my nerves returning as my mouth goes dry and sweat pours down my back underneath the shawl. I can't stop looking around. Minos' guards are nowhere to be seen, meaning they could be hiding anywhere.
'Come on,' she points me towards a market stall several paces from the entryway where we were attacked, making a show of browsing the items of jewellery and small clay pieces.
'We watch the entryway. We make our way over casually and keep your eyes and ears open for anything suspicious. I'll slip in and shout for you if I need anything.'
'This sounds like a dodgy plan,' I say before I can stop the words leaving my mouth.
'It is dodgy. But do you have a better one?'
'How's about you both relax and come in for a drink?'
I nearly jump seven feet out of my skin as a low voice chimes loudly in my ear. I swing round, ready to run again, but waiting for us is only a small man, who looks maybe a little older than dad. The girl reaches for the hidden dagger – that is until she spots Narcissus walking out the doorway, completely unharmed.
