A/N Okay so for a long time I thought that this chapter would be the shortest one of the story so far but actually it seems to have turned out to be the longest! I'm still not quite sure how that happened...

I hope you're all still reading and still enjoying this... please let me know if you are. I'm absolutely shameless in begging for reviews but I do worry sometimes. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time and trouble to review so far - I'm sorry if I haven't managed to respond personally.

As ever I own nothing. That pleasure belongs to the BBC - although they don't deserve it!


Jason hurried down a corridor, trying to straighten his tunic with one hand and tame his hair into some semblance of order with the other. He was late. Minos had sent a summons for dinner some time earlier and Jason felt that tardiness was something that the King would take a dim view of.

It was his own stupid fault of course. He had been shown to a set of chambers and then had to firmly chase away the servant who seemed to want to help him wash and dress. Jason didn't really understand why anyone would think he needed help in that way. After all he had been getting himself dressed since he was fairly young. Did people here really think that being born into a wealthy family (because he did realise that his family was both rich and powerful – given who his mother and stepfather were it would have been almost impossible for him not to understand this) meant that a person automatically became incapable of doing anything for himself?

Having chased off the servant he had set about having a quick wash and brush up to remove the grime of travel, fully intending to investigate whether there was a proper bathhouse here in the morning. Somehow he had felt that washing with a bowl of water just wouldn't leave him feeling as clean as he would like and he had no intention of disturbing the servants and asking for a bath to be filled. They had been thrown out of their normal routine by the arrival of the King's party quite enough as it was and Jason wasn't willing to interrupt them anymore.

So a quick wash with the bowl provided it had been. What he hadn't intended, however, was to end up falling asleep on top of the bed. He'd sat down on the edge to finish dressing and it had just been so comfortable and inviting that he couldn't resist stretching out on it for a few minutes. He hadn't meant to actually take a nap; had told himself at the time that he was just going to relax a little after the long journey. Unfortunately it seemed that his body had had other ideas and as soon as he was horizontal his eyes had drifted shut of their own accord; the last couple of weeks of disturbed sleep finally catching up with him properly.

Jason had been woken up a short time later by an insistent knocking at the door. Logically he knew that he couldn't have been asleep for more than a few minutes but it was still enough to disconcert him, making his thoughts feel slow and heavy. Still, his good manners had overridden conscious thought and he had answered the door automatically, unable to leave someone waiting needlessly, without even considering the fact that he was still only partially clothed and that it might therefore not be appropriate.

The fact that it was the overseer, Alexarchos, on the other side was, with hindsight, something of a relief; at least he hadn't managed to embarrass one of the young serving girls he had passed in the corridor on the way to these chambers. Even so though, Alexarchos had looked at his less than clothed state with a faintly disapproving air, not saying anything more because a lifetime of service had conditioned him to studiously ignoring the foibles of those who were considered to be his social superiors – and he had after all been told directly by the King that this young man was of noble birth and to be treated as an honoured guest.

Jason had nevertheless found himself flushing with embarrassment and demanding (perhaps a little more sharply than he really intended) what the man wanted. The news that Minos had demanded his presence at the supper table was neither particularly surprising nor particularly welcome since Jason wasn't exactly presentable at that precise moment in time. Alexarchos explained that Pythagoras and Hercules had already been sent in the direction of the dining room. He gave Jason a brief description of where the room was to be found (which Jason only half listened to to be honest; more interested in finding where the tunic that had been laid out on the bed for him had gone since he seemed to have kicked it off in his impromptu nap) and then excused himself to go and fetch the Princess.

Having haphazardly pulled the tunic that had been provided over his head (and just how had it managed to end up behind the chair in the corner?) and tied his belt around his waist, Jason had set about trying to find his comb in his satchel – futilely as it happened. He knew it was in here somewhere; had only used it this morning. No matter how much he scrabbled in the bag though it was eluding him. How could something disappear so easily and quickly as soon as he needed it? In frustration he had tipped out the bag on the floor and raked through the small pile of contents as quickly as he could but the comb wasn't there. Jason had spent more time than he should have regathering the contents and shoving them back in – unwilling to leave a mess on the floor for the servants – but he kept dropping things in his hurry. What was the saying? More haste less speed? Finally everything was back inside and he kicked the bag back under the bed, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to use them as a comb.

Knowing that he was now running very late and that the King had probably been expecting him to arrive before now, Jason had hurried out into the corridor but had stopped almost immediately. Had Alexarchos said that he should go left or right to find the dining room? He wracked his brains but realised all too quickly that he just couldn't remember; hadn't really been paying attention to what he was told. There didn't seem to be anyone around who he could ask either; the servants all busy about their duties in different parts of the house. Well he would just have to find the room for himself. The house couldn't be that big surely? Certainly nowhere near as big as the Palace in Atlantis. So, left or right then?

They had come from the left when they had arrived and, yes, Jason had been thinking more of getting his mother to somewhere where she could rest in comfort but he hadn't seen anything that looked like a dining room on the way here. There had been a number of closed doors it was true, but surely Alexarchos would have pointed it out in passing if they had gone past it? With that thought in mind Jason had decided to try going to the right.

Which of course brought him to his current predicament: hurrying down the corridor while trying to make himself look vaguely presentable for dinner. None of the rooms he had peered into had looked anything like a dining room either; had all been bedrooms or living chambers. Jason grimaced to himself; Minos would not be pleased when he finally got to the supper table.

Finally he stopped outside a door that seemed more ornate than those around it. This looked a bit more like it – and if it wasn't he would just have to admit defeat and find someone to ask. Taking a deep breath and tugging the hem of his tunic straight one last time he opened the door and stepped inside with far more outward confidence than he felt inside.

It became apparent as soon as he entered the room that he had made a mistake. This was most definitely not the dining room. It was a large and well-lit chamber, comfortably (almost luxuriously) furnished, with soft drapes at the windows and expensive furniture. It was clearly a day room with several low couches lining the walls. It was also a room designed for a woman; the little feminine touches standing out clearly. Near the window an elderly lady, expensively if simply dressed, sat in a low backed chair enjoying the late afternoon sunlight, busying herself with the loom that stood in front of her; the shuttle making a drowsy sound as she flicked it back and forth with practiced ease.

Hearing Jason enter behind her the woman spoke without turning, her voice mellow yet vibrant.

"Well?" she asked. "Is His Majesty settled in?" Her voice contained a note of unexpected sarcasm.

Jason froze. Clearly he was not the person that she thought she was talking to. Before he could open his mouth to introduce himself and ask for directions though, she went on.

"Oh I know," she stated impatiently. "I ought to be grateful to the King for allowing me to live here in such pleasant surroundings. You have said as much so many times before, Alexarchos." She sighed, her eyes still focussed on her weaving. "You are right of course. There are far worse fates than this and Minos has been accommodating… yet I can never forgive or forget all that he stole from me… no matter how much I might wish it otherwise."

She turned suddenly, perhaps to make a further comment, and froze as she spotted Jason, her eyes opening wide with surprise and her delicate mouth forming an 'o'. Although she was elderly she was still beautiful, slender and elegant, with silver hair piled up in an elaborate hairstyle, caught back with golden combs.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "And why are you in my private gynaikonitis?"

"I'm sorry," Jason answered, thoroughly flustered. "I was looking for the dining room but I got a bit lost."

The old lady raised an eyebrow imperiously, in a manner that somehow reminded Jason of his mother.

"You certainly have," she declared, looking him up and down. "I presume that you arrived with His Majesty. You should know that these chambers are off limits. You are a man and not welcome here."

"I am sorry," Jason said again. "I didn't mean to intrude... and I certainly didn't mean to upset or offend you."

The old lady's eyes softened.

"If you were lost then you were not to know what this chamber was," she said more gently. "You have not caused any offence. If you seek the dining room then you should return to the corridor outside this room, turn right and make your way towards the front of the house. You will find it on the left side of the corridor near to the main door."

Jason nodded. It was typical of his luck that he had ended up going in completely the wrong direction on leaving his room – although he did have to admit that he only had himself to blame; he really should have listened to the instructions better.

"Thank you," he said softly.

He turned to leave. As he did his sleeve brushed against a vase, decorated with black figures on a red background and geometric patterns at the neck and lip, making it wobble. Jason reached out a hand to steady it. As his fingers brushed the vase the world seemed to drop away around him and a new scene appeared before his eyes.

It was dark as a youngish man of little more than average height strode down an empty corridor – the lack of people present indicating the lateness of the hour. Before a decorated door he stopped and raised his hand to knock, receiving permission to enter.

The room that the man entered was hidden half in darkness; lit only by a guttering candle and a couple of small lamps. On the far side of the chamber a slender woman stood with her back to him, pouring water from a black figured vase into a drinking vessel. Her dark hair was piled up onto her head and bound about with ribbons.

"Mother," the man said.

The woman turned with a soft smile.

"You are visiting me very late," she remarked.

"It has been a long day," the man answered.

"Indeed," his mother responded. "Would you care for some refreshment?" She gestured towards the vase.

"No. Thank you."

"As you wish."

"You are very fond of that hydria," the man said, looking at the vase. "I have never quite understood why. After all you have many finer things."

The woman sighed softly and moved towards the couches on the opposite side of the room, reclining comfortably on one of them, her eyes lost in distant memory.

"Your father brought it back from Corinth for me," she answered. "You would not remember. You were very young at the time."

Her son crossed to her side and reclined on another couch.

"You miss him very much don't you?" he asked.

"Every day my dear," the woman answered sadly. "Every day." She rallied herself with a fragile smile. "But I do not think that a discussion of my tableware is what has brought you to my doors this late at night."

"I did not disturb your rest did I?"

"No," the lady answered, a faint smile touching her delicate lips. "I could not sleep… particularly knowing that your wife was about to give birth." She fixed her son with a level look.

"How did you know…" the man began.

"One of the servants told me," the woman responded with a smile. "Now tell me, is all well?"

"Yes," her son answered with a slightly dazed smile. "All is very well… I have a son."

"A son?" the woman said with a smile that was bittersweet. "I wish your father was here to see this moment."

"So do I Mother," the man said softly, reaching out to take her hands. "Tomorrow I will introduce you to your grandson."

"Does he have a name?"

"Not yet. He was only born this evening. There will be time enough to name him over the coming days." His smile widened. "I have a son!" he added in an awestruck tone.

Jason was startled back into reality be a soft hand on his elbow. He swallowed hard and tried to regain his balance, feeling somehow off kilter. What the hell had that been? And just who were those people? Figments of his imagination he supposed. He'd always been told that his imagination was overactive but really that was just ridiculous.

Still breathing a little hard he turned slowly and found the old lady had crossed the room to his side. She was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Is all well child?" she asked. "You seem a little… disconcerted."

"Yes," Jason answered. "All is well. It was just… your vase… it seemed familiar."

The old lady turned from him to examine the vessel, picking it up almost reverently with a soft expression and a faraway look.

"It is very old," she answered quietly. "I have had it for many years. My late husband brought it back from Corinth for me. It must be more than forty years ago now. It is precious to me."

Jason nodded dumbly, although inside he recoiled at her words. Suddenly he felt as though the world had tilted on its axis.

"I'm sorry I intruded on you," he heard himself saying, his mind still reeling. "I… erm… I should probably go. I think I'm late."

"It would be best not to keep the King waiting," the elderly woman agreed. "And you should not be seen here. These chambers are forbidden to any man who is not of my household."

Jason nodded again and slipped back out into the hallway, hurrying off down the passage in the direction the old lady had said he should go to get to the dining room, lost deep in thought.


Minos glared at the empty space at the left hand end of the table with barely concealed irritation. If there was one thing he could not abide it was lateness. Particularly lateness if there was a meal involved. It had always seemed to him to be terribly bad manners to keep everyone waiting to start eating just because someone could not be on time, yet that was exactly what his stepson seemed to be doing. The King's frown deepened. In spite of his at times frustrating obstinacy Jason had to this point seemed to possess good manners; no matter what the other deficiencies of his upbringing might be he was at least polite. Minos intended to ensure it remained that way too and he knew that Pasiphae would feel the same way; would back him wholeheartedly. She could not stand tardiness any more than he could.

A noise from the doorway made the King turn with an ever deepening scowl. Jason slipped into the room as quietly and unobtrusively as possible and took his place at the table. In spite of the quality of the clothing that had been provided for him the young man still managed to look as though he had been dragged backwards through a hedge. Even his two friends had managed to make themselves presentable for the table so was it really too much to ask that Jason tidied himself up? Minos' eyes narrowed as his irritation grew. Perhaps it was time to take his stepson's wild and wilful behaviour in hand.

As the King watched, Ariadne shot Jason a warning look, nodding almost imperceptibly at her father. Somehow that only added fuel to Minos' indignation. His daughter should not be trying to warn her stepbrother about Minos' irritation; they should not be conspiring together in that way. He had been trying to be kind by sitting them near to one another, along with Jason's friend Pythagoras but perhaps that had been a mistake. After all he hardly wanted Jason's apparent disregard for propriety and the deficits of his upbringing to rub off on Ariadne.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Jason murmured as he slipped into his seat.

Minos raised an eyebrow. The boy seemed subdued; distracted.

"I trust there is an explanation for your tardiness?" he demanded sharply.

Jason flushed.

"I turned the wrong way out of my room and got a bit lost," he answered with an embarrassed laugh.

Minos felt his annoyance beginning to waver and fade a little. It would be easy enough to get a little lost in a strange house he supposed. Although everyone else had managed to find their way here without too much trouble.

"Did Alexarchos not tell you how to get here?" he asked sharply.

If anything Jason managed to look even more embarrassed than ever.

"No, he did," he said. "It was just that I was a bit distracted at the time and I didn't really pay enough attention."

"And what, pray tell, could have distracted you so much that you failed to listen to the simplest of instructions?" Minos barked, his irritation growing once more.

"I was looking for my tunic," Jason muttered, "and then I couldn't find my comb either. I swear it was in my bag this morning but it wasn't there when I went to look for it."

From alongside him Minos saw Ariadne glance at Jason with faint confusion; confusion that reflected his own feelings.

"Weren't your clothes laid out on the bed?" she asked. "Mine were."

"Yeah," Jason answered. "But I accidentally kicked the tunic off and then I couldn't find it."

"Why would you kick your clothes off the bed?" the Princess asked.

"I didn't actually mean to," Jason protested. "I sort of ended up falling asleep and kicked it off in my sleep. It's been a long couple of weeks," he added defensively.

Minos raised an eyebrow and looked at his stepson, his annoyance fading completely. The lad was right; it had been a long couple of weeks and they were all a little tired from travelling. It wasn't surprising under the circumstances that the young man had fallen asleep; it was more surprising, in fact, that more of their companions hadn't followed suit.

Jason looked around the table with a slightly worried frown.

"My… the Queen isn't joining us?" he asked.

Minos allowed himself a wry smile. It would not be long, he suspected, before Jason referred to Pasiphae as "my mother" in public – something that the lad had so far refrained from doing. Part of him could not wait to see the look of surprise on Pasiphae's face when that happened. For now though, it was perhaps for the best that Jason still referred to her by her title – even in the company of a group who all knew the secret of his parentage; it would hopefully prevent any slips when he was in company that did not know the truth. Actually the more the King came to know his stepson the less he minded the idea of the world knowing the truth, but he suspected that Jason himself was still far from ready to openly acknowledge who he was and accept all the privileges and consequences that his position entailed. To push the boy reluctantly into the limelight would do no good whatsoever; he would need to choose that path for himself. With all that had been going on with Anaxandros and the fall of the city, Minos had not had the time or the inclination to discuss the future with Jason but it was not a conversation that could be put off forever and the time was rapidly approaching when it would need to be addressed.

"No," he answered kindly. "She was also a little tired from our journey and felt that given her recent injuries it would be better to rest this evening. I arranged for a meal to be served in her chambers. You may visit her after supper if you wish."

Jason nodded thoughtfully. He still seemed a little distracted and subdued; as though he was only half with them in the dining room and half deep in his own thoughts. Minos turned back to his meal, accepting a selection of dishes as they were served. There were things that he felt needed to be discussed this evening; decisions that he, with the able assistance of General Dion would have to make and he had no intention of trying to do so while distracted by hunger. He would like Jason to be involved in the discussion as well and perhaps his clever friend Pythagoras at least. Jason had proved back at the cave that he was adroit at thinking and planning on his feet and might have a viewpoint and suggestions that neither the more formally trained Dion nor the King would think of, and Pythagoras was clever enough to think up solutions to a variety of problems. Perhaps appealing to his stepson's apparent innate sense of duty would cause him to put aside whatever thoughts were distracting him at present. Minos cleared his throat.

"There are discussions that must be had and decisions that must be made," he proclaimed once he was sure that every eye was on him. "Once this meal is over I would retire to one of the family rooms where we can speak in comfort. General Dion, your advice will be most welcome and most appreciated… but others may also play their parts." The King fixed his stepson with a sharp look. "Atlantis is imperilled. It lies in the hands of a tyrant who would destroy all that has been achieved and built over the past long years. If the city is to be regained and the natural order restored, we may all need to make sacrifices. I have a duty to the city and to its people; to protect and guide them; to rule as the Gods see fit… there is no greater honour for any man than to serve our great city."

From his position down at the far left of the table, seated near to his two friends, Hercules hid a grimace. Honour and duty. Two words that were almost guaranteed to set Jason off, as Hercules privately suspected the King knew all too well. The boy's sense of honour and duty was going to get him killed one day (get them all killed most likely since where one went the other two would always follow), so to hear Minos to throw those words around so casually in Jason's hearing irritated the burly wrestler. He could not restrain himself from glaring darkly at his monarch.

If Minos even noticed Hercules' disapprobation he gave no indication of it. On the contrary, he watched his stepson straighten and visibly pull his thoughts back to the present with some satisfaction. He smiled benevolently at his companions.

"For now let us simply enjoy our meal," he stated.

In truth the food was not of the variety that would usually grace the royal table, although it did have the benefits of being both hot and filling. Minos found that he could forgive the deficiencies for now though; the servants had not been expecting the arrival of the royal family and their small retinue and would not have had the time to acquire appropriate supplies. No doubt Pasiphae would impress upon them exactly what would be required of them and would ensure that the table was properly supplied in the future. Once again the King found himself almost feeling sorry for the servants, knowing that they were bound to face his wife's wrath.

"What's a gynaikonitis?" Something in Jason's softly spoken question pulled Minos' attention back to his stepson; something in his tone of voice perhaps.

"It is a section of some houses where men are not permitted," Pythagoras answered with a slight frown. "The private rooms reserved for the use of the women of the household. The only men permitted to enter are those who are related by blood or marriage to the women. It is a concept that comes from Athens and is not widely practiced in Atlantis… and in our city it is only ever practiced in the houses of the nobility."

"That makes sense," Jason murmured to himself.

"Why do you ask?" Pythagoras queried.

"When I left my chamber to come to supper I turned right instead of left," Jason began. "I ended up in a sort of sitting room. There was an old lady there. She told me that it was her private gynaikonitis and that I wasn't supposed to be there; that because I was a man it was forbidden."

"Who was this old lady?" Ariadne asked with a confused frown. She had never heard of anyone other than servants living on a royal estate and no servant would dare refer to a room as their own.

Jason shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted. "We never actually got as far as introducing ourselves. I was late and she really didn't want me to be there, so I left pretty quickly to be honest. She was kind enough… she made sure I knew how to get here and everything… but I was intruding so I didn't really want to hang around." He deliberately left out the incident with the vase and the weird scene he was desperately trying to convince himself he had imagined; trying to make himself believe it was no more than a daydream.

At the first mention of the old lady Minos had stiffened. How could he have forgotten that she lived here? He was the one after all who had offered her a home in Pagenia; who had given her the opportunity to live out the rest of her life in relative comfort. It was poor recompense for all she had lost and yet at the time it had seemed to be for the best; had seemed to be all that he could do for her. Minos had not, in all conscience, been able to see a lady of noble birth thrown to the lions so to speak; had been unwilling to turn her onto the street. Yet by the same token it was clear that she could not remain a member of the court in Atlantis, and had apparently had no inclination to do so anyway.

Now though, he was in a position to return part of what had been taken away to her. Yet was the time right? Could he allow himself and the other members of his party to be distracted by a domestic matter when the fate of all Atlantis was at stake? Would it perhaps be better to wait until a more propitious moment? To wait until Anaxandros was defeated and some semblance of normality returned to their lives?

Perhaps it would be best to wait for now and to discuss the matter with Pasiphae at a time when he could be assured of their privacy. For all that she was only a woman his wife had a fine political mind and a strength that he had found himself leaning on and taking comfort in many times over the years. She would undoubtedly have an opinion on the matter and between them they should be able to determine the best course of action. Yes, the more that he thought about it the more Minos was convinced that waiting and speaking to Pasiphae would be for the best. Decision made, he turned back to his supper with relish, swiftly summoning a servant to clear away the remains of the dishes consumed so far and bring out a selection of fruits and pastries as a sweet end to the meal.

After supper was over the entire party retired to a large and comfortable chamber which might best be described as a sitting room. There was something almost sinfully pleasant about relaxing in comfortable surroundings after the last couple of weeks of hardship. In spite of the urgency of the situation in Atlantis, Minos found himself loathe to begin the discussion about the immediate future as he watched his companions, content for now to watch them take their ease.

Over in one corner Ariadne was deep in conversation with the Oracle, casting the occasional longing glance towards Jason that she clearly believed her father would not notice. Her behaviour amused Minos more than a little; he did remember what it was like to be young and in love in spite of appearances to the contrary, and as long as both his daughter and stepson observed the proprieties he was willing to let the odd longing look pass.

On the other side of the room, Jason and Pythagoras had settled themselves on the floor and were already engaged in a makeshift game of knucklebones, using small pebbles that they had acquired from somewhere. After a moment Hercules joined them with an amused roll of his eyes, producing a proper set of bones from a pouch at his belt and playing as enthusiastically as either one of his young friends.

The King frowned lightly. Why were the boys sitting on the floor when there were perfectly good couches nearby? He had noticed back at the Palace that his stepson had a tendency to use furniture for things other than their intended purpose; sitting on the edge of a table with his feet up on a stool or stretched out on the floor. Soon enough, Minos supposed, he would have to ask Pasiphae to impress upon the young man that tables were for eating off or writing on, stools or chairs were for sitting on and the floor was for walking on, and the three must never be confused. A prince could not behave like a peasant after all and ought to know the correct usages of furniture without being told.

Dion strode purposefully over to his King and stood in front of him.

"Your Majesty," he rumbled quietly but respectfully. "You wished to speak with me."

"Indeed," Minos responded. "Be seated." He gestured to a nearby couch and waited for the stocky general to sit down. "The future of Atlantis is at stake and whilst the decisions we took at Dodona and the plans we made were both necessary and good, I believe it is now time to revisit some of those decisions and make further plans for the future. I do not intend to leave the city, or indeed the kingdom, in the hands of Anaxandros or his Amphigeneian hordes for a moment longer than is absolutely necessary." He raised his voice slightly so that it would carry to all the occupants of the room, drawing them into the conversation naturally.

"The plan to come here was a good one," Dion agreed, casting an approving glance towards Jason. "The garrison from Kantonum should begin to arrive over the next few days and, although Belos and Pammon have yet to catch up with us, I have no doubt that more and more of the garrisons will join us as the days pass. I have dispatched Asopus to speak with the captain of the garrison here in Pagenia and Nisos to seek out a place where the men might set up camp away from the town itself. With the numbers of soldiers I expect to arrive shortly we will require careful billeting. Nisos is a good young officer and I believe more than equal to the task."

"That is good," Minos answered, "yet it is not the matter which concerns me now." He paused. "Soon we will need to dispatch emissaries to our allies importuning them for their aid. I would wish to keep this news from Anaxandros for as long as possible so that he is not unduly prepared for any battle that is to come, but I do not see how this may be achieved. We will need to have counsel with the other Kings and the Amphigeneians will undoubtedly learn of the presence of their armies on Atlantian soil. It will only be a matter of time then, I am afraid, until Anaxandros learns of our presence in Pagenia and sends his army to counter us before we can fully assemble."

"Why do the armies have to come here?" Pythagoras asked softly.

"As I have told you I will have need to consult with our allies; to draw up agreements and the like. Their aid will have a price… even if it is only in the form of a reciprocal promise," Minos stated with faint irritation. He had not thought that he would have to explain this.

"That is not what I mean," Pythagoras said. "I understand that the Kings and their advisors will need to come here but why do their armies?"

"I do not believe that I understand your meaning," Minos admitted.

"I think I do," Jason said, throwing an admiring glance in Pythagoras' direction. "That's clever."

"Simple," Pythagoras responded self-deprecatingly. "It seems the only logical solution to the problem so that the Amphigeneians might be kept in the dark for as long as possible."

"If this idea is both so simple and so clever would one of you care to share it?" the King demanded sharply.

"How close are we to the border? And whose border?" Jason asked, hooking his hands behind one knee.

"No more than ten leagues," Dion answered.

"A day's march," Pythagoras murmured to Jason in response to his friend's slightly confused look. What had seemed like mere ignorance on Jason's part made much more sense now that he knew his friend's origins. "On average an army will march ten leagues in a day."

"It is the border with Aegina," Dion added. "Why do you wish to know?"

"Is Aegina likely to be an ally?" Jason queried.

"Aeacus of Aegina is neither ally nor enemy," Minos answered. "We are cordial with one another without being expected to fly to each other's aid. He is, however, no friend of Anaxandros; their animosity is even more deep seated than our own."

"Alright then," Jason said. He looked at Pythagoras. "If I'm understanding what you were planning, you mean for the armies of the other Kings to remain camped in Aegina while the Kings themselves, along with their advisors and guards, come on to Pagenia and meet with His Majesty. Is that about right?"

"Yes," Pythagoras answered.

"It has possibilities My Lord," Dion rumbled. "Of course not all our allies would be coming through Aegina but as we maintain cordial relations with most of our neighbours it is to be hoped that we could persuade them to allow the armies of our allies to camp on their soil for a few weeks until we are ready to make a move on Atlantis itself."

Minos nodded thoughtfully.

"Aeacus would undoubtedly be more than happy to assist as long as we could give assurances that the armies would not remain indefinitely," he said. "He is likely to agree to anything that causes harm to Anaxandros."

"With your permission My Lord I will send out riders to intercept your allies and to the neighbouring kingdoms – those where the armies might need to camp – with greetings and missives from yourself," Dion rumbled.

"It will be well done," Minos declared. "I will prepare the letters carefully. They will be ready for dispatch tonight. I would wish to strike as quickly as possible, before the enemy has chance to act. The sooner we can summon our allies the sooner we can regain our rightful place."


It was late when Minos made his way to his wife's chambers – far later than he had intended. Writing the letters for Dion's emissaries to carry had taken longer than he had anticipated. For a moment he paused, wondering whether Pasiphae would still be awake and whether he should disturb any rest she might be getting. Her recent injury had made him wary; anxious that she should recover her health as quickly as possible. Yet he felt the need for her counsel and suspected that there would be precious little time for him to speak to her in private in the coming days.

As Minos stepped inside the room he was more than a little startled to see that, despite the lateness of the hour, Pasiphae was standing in the window, gazing out across the still moonlit waters of the bay, her face lost in shadow.

"Something troubles you My Lord?" she asked without turning.

Minos crossed to her side and looked out through the window, sharing the view of the peaceful scene below.

"You are not sleeping?" he asked solicitously.

"I believed that to be evident," Pasiphae answered sharply. "I have slept so much of late," she added, softening her tone, "and the moon holds a special affinity for all women. Selene graces us with her presence and all women should learn to do her honour."

Minos allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. It was rare for him to be faced with his wife's beliefs and piety.

"It is certainly a beautiful night," he murmured.

"Indeed," Pasiphae responded. "But what brings you to these chambers at such a late hour?"

The King sighed.

"I am worried," he admitted. "Something happened this evening that concerned me."

"And what has concerned you so much My Lord?" Pasiphae asked solicitously.

"There was an incident earlier," Minos said. He hesitated for a moment before ploughing on. "With your son."

Pasiphae stiffened. If Jason had done anything to incur the King's displeasure he would feel hers, she vowed. Yet at the same time she knew that she would defend him like a lioness; defend him to the last.

"Jason has offended you My Lord?" she asked, her tone frosty.

"No, no," Minos was quick to try to reassure her. "Your son is not at fault… beyond being a little inattentive to his surroundings that is."

Pasiphae frowned as she looked at her husband.

"Then perhaps you would like to elaborate on your concerns," she said.

"Jason got lost on his way to the dining room this evening," Minos answered. "He turned the wrong way in the corridor and ended up in the gynaikonitis. Tyro was there."

"Tyro," Pasiphae said. "I had all but forgotten that she lives here."

"As had I," agreed Minos.

Pasiphae glanced sharply at her husband.

"Does Jason know?" she demanded. "Does he know who she is? Who she is to him?"

"No. As far as I understand the old lady informed him that he should not be in the chamber and directed him to the dining room. There was no time for them to introduce themselves." He hesitated. "It presents me with something of a dilemma," he admitted. "Tyro is the boy's grandmother and I am loathe to keep his existence from her. Yet I am concerned that under the current circumstances this may prove to be an unwelcome distraction from vital matters of state."

Pasiphae gazed out of the window for a few long minutes, her mind busily assessing all the possibilities and outcomes that she could think of. Finally she turned back to Minos.

"I do not believe that it would be in anyone's interests to act precipitously and inform Jason of his grandmother's presence at this precise time," she said slowly. "The boy has been so unsettled with all the changes in his life. He is adapting well but I cannot think that this news would do anything other than to unsettle him further and distract him at a time when his focus should be elsewhere. I fully intend that he should learn about his family and heritage but now is not the time. Better to wait until Atlantis is back in our hands and we can properly begin his instruction."

"Jason may not choose to remain at our side once this current crisis is over and we return to our home," Minos pointed out gently.

"I am aware of that," Pasiphae snapped. "He is not an unintelligent boy though and I think will ultimately be persuaded of the benefits to be found through acceptance of his place in life."

"And do you not think that keeping this sort of news from him will drive a wedge between you when Jason finally learns the truth?" Minos asked. "It may drive him to take the decision to leave without thinking of the consequences. He would have every right to be hurt and angry… particularly given how much was kept from him in the past by his own father; how much he was lied to by all of those around him."

"It is a risk I truly believe we must take," Pasiphae answered. "I know Jason well enough by now that I cannot help but believe that he will be in the forefront of any action to take back the city… no matter how much I might wish it otherwise. He will see it as his duty to fight and I do not believe that anything I… or you… or anyone else for that matter can say to him will dissuade him. I will not have his life risked needlessly however. The knowledge that the grandmother he never knew was living in seclusion in Pagenia would only serve to distract him at a time when he will most need to focus attention on what is going on around him. I cannot risk his heart and mind being divided in this way… and we hardly have the time to give due attention to a family matter right now."

She paused and raised one hand to cover her mouth, eyes closing as a wave of weariness overcame her, the wound in her stomach throbbing faintly. What she could not speak of with her husband was her belief that Jason's otherworldly abilities were awakening ever more each day – and if that were true then he would have more than enough to cope with and think about without adding any more surprises into the mix.

"What of Tyro?" Minos asked. "Should she be told? So much was lost to her when we took the throne. This would perhaps make up a little for what she lost."

"Perhaps," Pasiphae acknowledged. "But until Jason is told of her existence it would seem cruel to tell her of his."

Minos frowned.

"How so?" he asked.

"Tyro lost Jason so many years ago… just as I did. For her to know that he was near; to be close enough to almost touch him but to not be allowed to acknowledge or speak with him; to know who he is but to have to keep that knowledge locked in her heart… to know that she cannot be with him… it would be so incredibly hard and painful for her." Pasiphae's voice was perhaps a little more emotional than was her usual custom – or than she intended – but she was speaking from personal experience even if Minos did not – could not – know it. "We would be giving her a gift with one hand and taking it away with the other," she continued, "and that would be cruel – even if the situation was only a temporary one. I cannot see that telling Tyro that her grandson has survived and thrived but then insisting that she cannot see or speak to him would be anything other than unkind. It would be better to keep her in the dark for a little while longer until the present situation is resolved. Then we might devote proper attention to the problem and ensure that both my son and his grandmother are reunited in a way that is beneficial to us all."

Minos sighed.

"Very well," he said. "I may not like the idea of keeping this news from Tyro but you are right my love… it may well be for the best for now. We will wait until we have regained Atlantis and our lives are more settled before we inform either the old lady or Jason of the truth."

Pasiphae half smiled and turned to make her way slowly back across the room towards the bed. It was endlessly frustrating that she could not yet move at her accustomed speed and did not have her accustomed stamina. She felt a warm hand on her back and half turned with surprise to find that her husband had moved up behind her and seemed intent on providing support. Part of Pasiphae could not help but be irritated at the fact that Minos believed that she needed help, but equally the rest of her could not help being touched by his concern.

"Thank you," she found herself murmuring with none of her usual asperity.

Minos hesitated for a moment.

"I wish to see you fully recovered, Pasiphae," he said.

"I will be fine," Pasiphae answered. "I grow stronger every day. Soon I will be as healthy as I ever was."

Minos stepped in front of his wife and took her hands in his.

"I feared for you," he said softly. "When I saw you pierced by that arrow…" he took a shuddering breath. "There is nothing in this world that is more important to me than Ariadne and you."

Pasiphae schooled her expression into a smile.

"I will be well My Lord," she asserted.

"I worry sometimes that the Gods have abandoned me; that they punish me for everything we did to take seize power," Minos admitted. "When you fell and Ariadne was separated from me I believed that perhaps I had paid a price for the throne that was too high."

"You cannot truly believe that," Pasiphae said calmly.

"Perhaps not," Minos answered, "but with my son long dead and lost to me forever, my daughter missing and my wife gravely injured dark thoughts were almost bound to enter my mind. I needed your strength my love as never before. Now though, with Ariadne restored to me and with your health returning, I begin to see hope for the future once more. We will drive the Amphigeneians from our lands and bring Anaxandros to his knees."

Pasiphae smiled again. Although there were definitely times when it suited her purposes for Minos to be manipulable, at present it was far more important for him to be strong.

"I have dispatched emissaries to our closest allies this night asking them to join us here to make plans for the recapture of the city. Further messengers have been sent to Aeacus of Aegina and the other neighbouring kingdoms to request permission for the armies of our allies to camp on their lands. If they come to our aid we have a chance. If they do not…"

"You cannot allow yourself to believe for even an instant that we will not succeed," Pasiphae said sharply. "If you show weakness our enemies will strike and you will lose everything. Who would ally themselves with a king who is not certain of his own right to rule? Who does not have the strength to demand allegiance from those who owe it to him? Who does not have the courage to take back what has been stolen from him? If we are to regain what is rightfully ours then you must have faith that the Gods will not abandon us. For Anaxandros to enter the city as he did can only have been an act of treachery; the hand of man and not the Gods. We will take back the city and drive our enemies from our lands. We will find the traitors and they will be executed."

Minos nodded.

"I take comfort from your strength as I always have," he said, "and I will have need of it in the days to come. With you at my side I truly believe that we can achieve anything." He looked around the room. "It is late," he remarked, "and you are still recovering. You require your rest. I will leave you."

"We will all require our rest if we are to be at our best when our allies join us," Pasiphae answered, "and if we are to persuade them that our cause is not hopeless – that there is much to be gained from allying themselves with us – we must be at our best." She paused. "There is of course one potential ally that we have not yet considered sending emissaries to."

"Who?" Minos asked as they moved towards the bed and perched on the edge.

"My brother," answered Pasiphae. "Aeetes would send troops if I were to demand them... and the Colchian army is a force to be reckoned with."

Minos hesitated.

"I would prefer to hold that option in reserve" he said. "We are far from Colchis here and any army that Aeetes was to send might well arrive after the war was decided. Help from that quarter would likely come too late. To send a message to your brother would require us to find a ship and crew willing to traverse stormy seas in the dead of winter. I do not believe that we have either the time or men to spare for such an expedition."

"As you wish," Pasiphae said. "It was merely one more option to consider."

"The men from the garrisons should begin to arrive over the next few days," Minos stated. "Once they have begun to gather we can begin to make plans properly. Getting back into the city may not prove an easy task. We cannot rely on brute force to break our way in – the walls are as strong as they ever were – and we must believe that the path through the sewers is known to Anaxandros… for I can see no other way that his men could have got into the city so quickly and with no alarm being raised."

"It is indeed something that will require careful thought My Lord," Pasiphae responded. "But perhaps it is not a problem that should trouble you tonight. There will be plenty of time to think on it once both our troops and our allies begin to gather. We should both retire for the night. There is nothing so urgent that it cannot wait for morning."

Minos smiled faintly.

"You are right of course," he murmured. "I will leave you to your slumber." He pushed himself to his feet. "Sleep well," he said by way of farewell, before heading out of the room in search of his own chambers and some well-deserved rest.


The King had been right in his assessment of when the remnants of his army would begin to arrive. The garrison from Kantonum began to trickle into the town the next day, arriving in groups of three or four, travel stained and weary. The site identified by Nisos for their camp proved to be a good one and the men set about erecting tents with military precision, aided by the small garrison from Pagenia itself.

It was quickly apparent that the rations the soldiers had carried with them would not last for long and that the storehouses of Pagenia would be quickly depleted with the influx of men, so Briarus, newly arrived from Kantonum, had selected a small group of his men to be a hunting party; responsible for putting food on the tables.

Over the next few days more and more men arrived; the garrisons of Ephitake and Mallena joining that of Kantonum. Belos and Pammon had reported to Dion immediately on their respective arrivals to inform him that the King's wishes had been carried out and that messengers had been despatched to other garrisons in the outlying districts.

As the days passed it became obvious that these messengers had reached their targets and had successfully conveyed their orders as more and more soldiers began to arrive – the army of Atlantis proving its loyalty to its King. As the ranks began to swell so hope began to rise; every man secretly dreaming of honours won in battle; every man hoping to play his part to regain their city. Here and there small fights broke out amongst the camped soldiers – inevitable really when so many men were kept in such close quarters – but these were quickly suppressed by the commanding officers.

In the royal estate on the hill Minos waited. He knew that no matter how many men arrived from the garrisons they would still need the support of his allies to win the day; that there simply weren't enough soldiers in the outlying garrison towns to challenge Anaxandros with any hope of winning. Until word came from his brother monarchs there was no point in making any hasty moves.

Four days after the first men began to arrive from Ephitake and Mallena, refugees from Atlantis itself began to trickle into town. They were mainly soldiers from the garrison and only arrived in twos and threes, having stumbled into groups from the other garrisons and been brought along with them. They told stories of dark atrocities; of loyal citizens strung up in the streets, their bodies left to rot where they had been hanged, simply for daring to show any objection to the new rule; of soldiers from the army executed in evermore inventive and gruesome ways; of men held in overcrowded prison cells, dank and dark, barely fed, with only the clothing they had been arrested in, awaiting their turn in the arena as Anaxandros sought to cement his rule with a brutal set of games – forcing men to fight like animals against impossible odds; of prison cells filled to bursting point with men and women awaiting execution for often the most spurious of reasons; of a city in fear, its populous under curfew and terrified of falling foul of one of the myriad of new and brutal laws.

The refugees also told of an underground resistance to the Amphigeneians, spoken of only in whispers within the city where those who might inform the new authorities could not overhear. They told of brave men and women who were risking everything to get those in the most immediate danger out of the city; of a giant of a man who was smuggling soldiers out through tunnels beneath the city, equipping them for a long journey and sending them off in as much safety as he could manage.

These stories spread like wildfire through the encamped soldiers, reaching the ears of the King and his party in the house on the hillside in short order. Rounding the corner of a corridor into an open vestibule late one evening Minos found his stepson and his two friends deep in conversation standing in a window and looking out, the lanterns and torches of the town below winking in and out and beyond them the moon dappled sea providing a beautiful backdrop for a serious conversation.

Without quite knowing why he did it Minos dropped back into the shadows. Truth be told he still felt that his wife's son was something of a mystery to both himself and Pasiphae. If he had the chance to solve a little of that mystery he intended to take it and he knew deep down that none of these three would speak completely freely in front of him; his own position was a barrier between them.

"What in the name of the Gods is Meriones thinking of?" Hercules demanded of his companions.

"Probably about saving as many people as he could," Pythagoras answered. "You have said before that in spite of everything he is a patriot."

"Mmm," Hercules grunted in agreement. "He always says that turmoil and treachery are bad for business."

"It's more than that though isn't it?" Jason asked not dragging his eyes away from the view from the window. "Meriones is a good man."

"He's a thief, a scoundrel and a liar," Hercules groused. "But he's also a good friend," he admitted, "and a good man."

"Ariadne and I wouldn't have escaped from the city without him," Jason murmured. "We had to get off the streets and Meriones' house was the only place I could think of to go. He seems to be destined to shelter me when I need it most."

"He cares about you," Hercules stated flatly, knowing that the concept of people caring was still something that his friend struggled with.

Jason glanced at him with a strange, almost sad, half-smile.

"I know," he admitted. "Although I wish he didn't."

Pythagoras frowned deeply.

"Why?" he asked quizzically.

"Because I seem to have a habit of putting the people who care about me in danger," Jason murmured, turning back to the window.

"Now you listen to me," Hercules growled. "Whatever Meriones is doing has nothing whatsoever to do with you. Nothing here is your fault. Do you hear me? You need to stop blaming yourself for everyone else's choices and actions."

Jason looked startled.

"I'm not," he protested. "I didn't mean now as such… I meant in general… you know what it doesn't matter."

"Actually it does matter," Pythagoras interjected. "It matters very much. I do wish that you did not have such a low opinion of yourself."

"If it weren't for me you'd be safe at home."

Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.

"If it were not for you I would be long dead and in the belly of the Minotaur," he pointed out, "and Atlantis would still be offering seven of its citizens as a sacrifice to the Earth Bull every year." He grabbed hold of his friend's arm and forced him to turn. "Do not presume to think that I am anywhere other than where I want to be. I have chosen my lot in life… I have chosen to be your friend… and my own choices are what have led me here, nothing else."

"Perhaps," Jason acknowledged. He sighed.

"You are pensive this evening," Pythagoras said, coming to stand by his younger friend so that their shoulders were touching. "I have told you before that it doesn't suit you." He placed a warm hand on Jason's shoulder. "What troubles you my friend?"

Jason sighed again.

"It's just that what Meriones is doing is so dangerous. If Anaxandros finds out…"

"He will be executed," Hercules finished.

"And there is nothing we can do to help him," Jason said.

"Meriones will know the risks," Hercules rumbled. "I have known him for more years than I really like to think about. We grew up together. I've never known him do anything without thinking of all the possible outcomes. He'll have gone into this with his eyes wide open."

Jason pulled a face.

"I know," he said. "It's just that Meriones was so kind when I was… when I wasn't myself… when I had that… well… for want of a better word… breakdown."

In the darkness Minos frowned. The day when Jason had first learned who his mother was, down in the Oracular chamber, Hercules had hinted at the fact that the boy had been unwell – what was it that he had said? That Jason had been unwell a couple of months previously but that he was largely recovered, and that most of the time he was fine but occasionally disappeared inside his own head; was a little sad at times. That was what the burly wrestler had said if the King was recalling the conversation properly – which he believed he was. Clearly there had been more to this "illness" that Hercules had said at the time; clearly it had been an illness of the mind rather than the body. That was a distinctly unsettling thought and one which Minos felt would require further investigation – although the fact that Jason was openly talking about the matter with his friends perhaps indicated that he had largely recovered as his older friend had said.

"I just hate the fact that we can't help him," Jason continued. "After all it's thanks to him that Ariadne and I… and the Oracle of course… got away from Atlantis at all."

"You never did tell us how you managed to escape the city," Pythagoras murmured.

Jason half turned towards his younger friend with a half-smile.

"Oh you know… the usual combination… skill, cunning, intelligence," he joked. "Actually it wasn't anything spectacular. One of Meriones' warehouses had a trapdoor in the floor that led into a tunnel under the city. Nisos said something about it being a smuggler's tunnel."

"The old smugglers tunnels," Hercules mused. "So that's how he's getting people out! I'd almost forgotten about them."

"You know about this then," Pythagoras said.

"Sort of," Hercules answered. "When I was a little boy there were rumours that there were tunnels under the city – deeper even than the sewers – that led down to the sea. They were supposed to have been used by smugglers in the old days. As far as anyone knew they hadn't been used in generations. Meriones and I used to look for the entrances from time to time… looking for adventure I suppose. We were only children at the time. Never did find them though."

"I think it's fairly safe to say that Meriones has found the entrance now," Jason remarked.

"Sounds like it," Hercules agreed. He looked about himself. "I need a drink," he declared. "There must be wine in this place… Lots and lots of fine wine."

"And who are we to keep you from fine wine," Pythagoras said with some amusement, exchanging an eye roll with Jason.

As the three friends moved off in search of wine for Hercules, Minos stepped out of the shadows, deep in thought. If nothing else the conversation he had been listening to gave him much to think about. He had never heard of tunnels beneath Atlantis other than the sewers. Perhaps it would be wise to question both the refugees who had escaped from the city and Hercules further. This was information that the King felt it was important that he knew. Lost in thought he headed off in the direction of his chambers, already planning on making enquiries in the morning.


It was late the next day when the sentries on the hillside spotted the first signs of the imminent arrival of one of Atlantis' allies. In the far distance Laius of Thebes was spotted heading towards the town with his retinue of advisors and guards. Word was immediately sent to inform Minos of the impending arrival – although it would still take several hours for the Theban King to arrive. Closeted in the royal estate with Dion and the garrison commanders who had arrived so far, Minos waited for his allies to arrive. Now was the time for the serious planning to begin.