A/N Firstly can I just say that I am so sorry that its been so long since I updated this story. Just in case anyone was worrying I haven't abandoned Child of Fortune (and won't abandon it!) but unfortunately I've had a series of deadlines both in and out of work ever since Christmas that have taken my attention away from this story - not least of which were the end of Round 6 for Hurt/Comfort Bingo (and I'm still ridiculously pleased with the amount of achievements I managed and that I managed to scrape in under the wire with a bingo) and the first draft submission for the Small Fandom Bang (watch this space - the story for that one should be posted some time early in April).

In case anyone hasn't seen and is interested, Mark Addy is starring in Jericho on ITV at the moment, Robert Emms is currently in Happy Valley on BBC 1 and Jack Donnelly will guest star in Thursday night's episode of Death in Paradise on BBC 1 (18th February).

Well, announcements over, I hope you all enjoy the chapter (and indeed that you're still reading the story!)


Minos frowned, fighting to keep his shock at Agrias' suggestion from registering on his face. He had expected the price of the Tanagran King's help to be steep, but this? To give him Ariadne in return for his help in retaking Atlantis? Minos was no fool and had always known that Ariadne's marriage would have to be a politically advantageous alliance rather than a love match but giving her away so easily to a man he had not even met yet had never been on the cards. Yet he badly needed the troops that Agrias had at his disposal. He simply could not afford to offend the man. If that happened, he was likely to lose more than just the help of the Tanagran monarch. It was all too likely that refusing Agrias' demand would cause him to return home and refuse to help retake Atlantis. If that happened Minos suspected that many of his other allies would also desert him, surmising that he was too weak to retake the throne.

To give himself a moment's breathing space and time to think, the Atlantian King stood up from the table where he was negotiating and made his way to a low cupboard at the far end of the room. With his back to his fellow kings, he poured himself a cup of wine from a polished bronze ewer and stood looking out at the courtyard. He knew full well that Agrias was watching him triumphantly, knowing that he was caught between a rock and a hard place; knowing that he had little choice but to capitulate.

"That is an interesting proposition My Lord," Minos murmured. "And one which I must consider carefully."

"What is there to consider?" Agrias snorted. "If you wish for my help that is my price."

"Indeed," Minos answered carefully. "It is a proposal which has many… implications, however. Both for my daughter and for Atlantis itself. Ariadne is still very young. I had thought to wait a while yet before promising her to another."

Agrias snorted again.

"She is not so very young," he asserted. "Many women have been married for several years at her age and have already begun to fulfil their duties in whelping. She is of marriageable age and he will make her a more than acceptable husband."

"Perhaps," Minos acknowledged. He hesitated for a moment. "Ariadne was betrothed some months ago to my wife's nephew," he continued. "It was intended from their childhood that she would be given to him in marriage."

"As I understand it your wife's nephew is dead," Agrias stated.

"He is," Minos replied. "He died these few months past. To betroth Ariadne to another so quickly, however, would perhaps be unwise. There are many who would look down on any new match as having been made with imprudent haste. I would not for the world have any such stigma attached to your son, especially if he is as worthy a young man as you have suggested."

"I had been led to believe that the engysis between your daughter and your wife's nephew had been dissolved shortly after it was made and that in fact the young man in question had been revealed as a traitor after his death… an occurrence which seems all too common in your court My Lord," Agrias answered sharply. "That being the case it is I who am taking the risk by allying my family to yours. You insult me by your hesitancy."

Minos glanced at Laius. He was the only other person present who had been told of Heptarian's duplicity. Minos suspected that the Theban King must have revealed the fact to Agrias at least, and quite possibly to Attalos as well. To do him credit, Laius looked back at Minos apologetically. It appeared he had meant no harm by what he must have seen as innocent gossip and had no more anticipated Agrias' demands than Minos himself had.

"I mean no insult My Lord," Minos said firmly. "I have merely learned to be cautious. I have no personal objections to a match between my daughter and your son, I merely wished to preserve the proprieties. I have not had the pleasure of meeting the young man as yet… a meeting which must take place before any engysis can be made. I would also have Ariadne meet him before the betrothal is announced."

"A dutiful daughter would accept her father's will and decision without question," Agrias declared. "I had been told that your daughter was educated in the social graces and dutiful to her father. If this is not the case, then perhaps I might suggest that she requires proper chastisement until she learns her place."

Minos bristled. How dare Agrias question either Ariadne's behaviour or his own authority as a father?

"My daughter is indeed dutiful," he responded stiffly. "I have no doubt whatsoever that if this alliance is made she will fulfil her part in it admirably. I simply meant that I would wish Ariadne to meet her potential new husband before any official announcement is made. It would seem kinder to both my daughter and your son. If the Gods are to look favourably on the match then all the proper proprieties must be observed. The engysis must be officially made between your son and myself… and for that I will naturally require his presence here."

"There will be nothing easier," Agrias rumbled. "My son is currently with my army. I will send for him today." He looked at Minos shrewdly. "This womanish hesitancy does you no credit My Lord," he said. "There are those who might argue that your lack of decision in this matter shows an alarming weakness in character; those who might suggest that it does not bode well for your resolve when the time comes to retake your city."

"I assure you that my resolve is firm," Minos answered coolly, "as both my friends and my enemies will swiftly learn. I will not leave my kingdom… my city and its people in the hands of a tyrant."

"I am pleased to hear it," Agrias said slyly. "Yet we must still make an agreement here. You know my terms. There is only one inducement that I want for my help. My son is of good family. The son of a king. We have many powerful allies who would become yours once the union between our families had taken place… Or do you find the thought of an alliance with my family so distasteful that you would reject the benefits that such a union could offer out of hand?"

Minos looked at Agrias steadily. In the background he was aware that both Attalos and Laius were watching the situation with great interest. Damn Agrias! Of all the prices he could have demanded why did it have to be this one? He had known that he would eventually have to choose a husband for his beloved daughter – a man who could rule Atlantis when Minos himself was gone – and yet he had thought that there was still plenty of time to make a choice.

If the King were honest (and in spite of his faults Minos did generally try to be honest) over the past few weeks he had grown to hope that his wife's son might eventually prove worthy of the role. It would, after all, solve a great many problems. The thing that had always worried Minos was that if he married Ariadne to the son of a rival king Atlantis might eventually fall under the control of that other kingdom. Yet, Heptarian aside, there had been no suitable candidates to be found within the ranks of the nobility in Atlantis itself.

Now Jason had come along. Whilst it was as yet unclear whether he would choose to stay once the Amphigeneians were expelled from Atlantis (and certainly the lad had given no indication either way) and while his educational needs and suitability for the role had not been assessed yet, Minos had found himself growing fond of Jason almost in spite of himself. There was an honesty about the young man that the King appreciated.

Then there was the fact that Ariadne was already attached to Jason to consider. Above all things Minos wished his daughter to be happy. He had known from the start that her marriage would not necessarily be a love match – that politics would have to come into play when considering any potential suitor for Ariadne's hand – but the possibility of providing her with a suitor who would make Ariadne happy at the same time as providing a match that would be beneficial to Atlantis was an enticing prospect. If Jason were to prove suitable then Minos would not be unhappy.

Agrias forcing his hand was definitely a complication that Minos had not anticipated, however. Every instinct was telling the Atlantian King to reject this proposal but the hideous truth was that he simply could not afford to. Gods help him, he desperately needed the troops that Tanagra could provide and he dared not risk offending Agrias. His mind kept circling around to the same thought: the thought that to save his city Minos might have to sacrifice his daughter's happiness. It was not a choice that he wished to make and yet the decision could not be put off.

"I do not doubt that your family is a fine one My Lord," Minos answered Agrias. "Who could object to such a match? Yet, as I have said, no engysis can be settled until your son has arrived. Send for him by all means. I would crave your indulgence in one matter though…" he paused for a moment before continuing. "I would wish to postpone any announcements until after I have spoken to my daughter. Ariadne is a good and faithful daughter and I know will follow the course I set for her, yet I would not wish the news of any betrothal agreement that we might make to come as a shock to her… for the general populous to learn of her engagement before she does."

"By all means," Agrias said magnanimously. "And since the decision to grant my simple request seems to be so difficult for you, I will give you the night to mull it over. Come to me tomorrow with your decision. There will be no negotiation and I wish for no other inducement that you could possibly offer. Your daughter's bride price for my full support… take it or leave it."


The day had started off fine, the winter sun casting its pale light over Pagenia, but towards the end of the morning the clouds began to roll in and the wind started to pick up, bringing the promise of a storm later on. In the distance the waves grew larger, their white tops crashing against the shore to break in a spray of white froth. Nearby, the wind caught at the dust in the courtyard, stirring it up ever more violently. Jason turned away from the window of his chamber and back towards the fire with a faint shudder. Much as he usually hated to be cooped up indoors, he'd never really liked being cold and would far rather be inside in a nice warm room when bad weather struck.

With a sigh he dropped down into a chair near the fire and stared moodily into the flames. He was tired; more tired than he'd been in a long time. Strange dreams had been plaguing his sleep for weeks; half-remembered images that seemed to tell a story that had not yet happened or had happened long ago; dreams that seemed to bleed over into the waking world. There were occasions when he found himself apparently losing track of time in the middle of the day; where an object he touched or a smell or sound triggered a daydream so strong that he was unaware of anything other than the images he was seeing and he would apparently "wake up" at the end of the daydream to find that some time had passed and more often than not his current companion was looking at him in concern. So far he had managed to shrug these incidents off; to cover for the missing time and hide the fact that he was essentially having lapses in awareness; to make everyone around him believe that everything was fine; but it was getting harder and harder to fool himself.

Jason grimaced. Not for the first time the word 'epilepsy' passed through his mind. One of the children in his class in primary school had had it; had had short periods of absence at random moments. Still, from what he had gathered it didn't involve hallucinations of any kind so perhaps he was simply losing his mind. Jason snorted. It wasn't the first time he had thought that in the months since he had arrived in Atlantis.

Every time he had one of these dreams (daydreams; visions; whatever the hell you wanted to call them) he ended up with a headache of varying intensity. When you added to that the disturbed sleep patterns that came as a result of the dreams, it was all getting a bit much to be honest; was more than a little wearing. Perhaps he should speak to someone – but who?

If this were a purely physical problem Jason wouldn't hesitate to speak to Pythagoras. The young genius would undoubtedly know of something to ease the ever present headaches and help him to get a good night's sleep. Yet Jason wasn't entirely sure how to explain what was going on to his logical friend. 'I'm being haunted by dreams and daydreams' didn't sound right somehow and Jason wasn't sure it would come under Pythagoras' area of expertise anyway.

The Oracle seemed the obvious choice, but he still hadn't fully forgiven her for lying to him for so long; for keeping so much from him. Given her distinct lack of openness and honesty before, could Jason really trust her now? She had always been kind and had given him good advice on numerous occasions, yet there was a wariness to his dealings with her now that had never been there before; a hesitancy to open up to her again. Part of him couldn't help suspecting that she would try to manipulate him into the position that she wanted him to be in; that she would try to mould him to fit her ideas of what he should be. The Oracle had always been there for him but how much of that was because of the so-called destiny that she seemed determined he would fulfil? What would she do if he refused to fall in line with her visions and pronouncements? Her primary loyalty would always be to Poseidon and to Atlantis after all.

Jason sighed. Perhaps he was being uncharitable. The Oracle's motives had always seemed to be above reproach and she had shown genuine concern for him in the past; had guided and helped him when he had been lost. Still, he had felt betrayed when he had discovered that she had known both who his mother was and that his father was still alive and had chosen to mislead him; had been deeply hurt by her actions. In fact, he had not sought her advice (incident with the naiads notwithstanding) since the day he had discovered that Pasiphae was his mother; had never been voluntarily alone in the Oracle's company. Sooner or later he supposed he would have to get past his feelings of hurt towards her, but there had seemed to be more important things for him to think about and deal with than the Oracle's apparent duplicity. No doubt she would send for him when she wanted him – after all she had never been shy about doing so in the past.

So who else could he talk to? His mother? Jason grimaced again. Pasiphae had proved to be far from what he had expected going into this, and yet she was still Atlantis' feared and formidable Queen and brooked no opposition – and most definitely did not suffer fools gladly. The sad truth was that he simply didn't know her well enough yet to even be able to guess what she might say. Would she believe he was telling the truth? Or would she think he was making it up for whatever reason her mind conjured up? And if she did believe him, would she think he was going mad? Jason had lived in Atlantis for long enough now to realise that there was little or no real treatment for those who would have been classed as mentally ill in the world he had come from. More often than not they were simply hidden away behind closed doors where the supposed stigma of their instability could not socially affect their families.

He had been lucky that neither Hercules nor Pythagoras had followed social norms when he had had what he still thought of as a breakdown after Alektryon. They had simply cared too much to either lock him away or cast him out, and for that Jason would always be deeply grateful. Could he really expect his mother to act the same way if she decided he was less than stable though? And come to that could he really bring himself to trouble her with his problems anyway? With so much going on at the moment Jason wasn't entirely sure he wanted to add to Pasiphae's burdens by dumping this on her.

No, he decided, he would keep his dreams and his daydreams to himself for just a little while longer. Hopefully they were only a result of the current turmoil anyway and would fade away again as soon as everything calmed down and the city was retaken. Jason resolutely ignored the little voice that told him that this wasn't likely to happen; that he had been in situations that were more stressful than this before without having any more than the odd periodic nightmare – certainly nothing like he was experiencing at the moment; that some of these apparent dreams had played out in the waking world exactly as he had seen them in his sleep.

He frowned. A memory stirred from years ago. He remembered his Dad telling him that he had an overactive imagination and that he needed to keep the contents of his dreams to himself; that people would think he was a liar or not quite normal. He remembered promising his Dad that he would stop trying to talk to people that only he could see apparently. There was something else, though; something he hadn't thought about in years. He remembered his Dad, later that night when he had thought Jason was asleep, hovering over his bed looking upset. He had murmured something about Jason being too young for this (whatever "this" was) and needing to protect him. Then he had said something about it being all his fault, about how Jason would be safer if his Dad went back and something about his presence triggering abilities. Jason hadn't known what he was talking about (still didn't know if the truth be told) but he had known that he'd done something wrong; that his Dad was upset because of him. It was only a few weeks later when his Dad had given him the necklace and said goodbye, and deep down Jason had known that it was all his fault; that his Dad had left because of him. He had kept his promise though; he had never spoken about his dreams to anyone again.

Jason sighed. Over the years the dreams and the imaginary friends (because what else could they be?) had disappeared as children's dreams often will. By the time he had been about nine or so they'd gone altogether and over the years they had faded from his mind and memory almost completely. Part of him still wanted to believe what his Dad had told him – that his childhood dreams had been the result of an overactive imagination; that his dreams now were the same – yet he really couldn't. As a child he had dreamed of a city that bore a startling resemblance to Atlantis and of a creature that was half woman and half scorpion (Kampê, his mind unhelpfully supplied); of a desperate fight against a man with the head of a bull; and of following a large man through dank and dark tunnels and watching the man bend the metal bars that blocked their way with his bare hands.

The question was though, was he truly remembering his childhood dreams properly or was he embellishing his memories with the things that had happened to him since he had arrived here? Was he projecting his feelings and experiences now onto his past?

He sighed again, closing his eyes and bringing one hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose; trying to sort through his tangled thoughts unsuccessfully. It really didn't help that his head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool this morning. Sleep hadn't come easily last night because he had been too wound up both before and after last night's dinner (although for different reasons as it had turned out). The spiced milk Pythagoras had thoughtfully left had helped a little but once Jason had managed to get to sleep he had been plagued once again by strange and disturbing dreams (and was it really too much to ask to go one night without them? Really?). He'd woken up with a stinking headache sometime around dawn and opted to roll over and go back to sleep to try to sleep it off, fully expecting someone to come along and wake him up before it got too late. It had come as a surprise when he had finally surfaced to discover that the sun was high in the sky and that he had slept far later than intended.

Of course the only problem with that was that he was left with the groggy feeling that came from sleeping for too long. Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to shake of the heavy, not-quite-awake feeling that was dogging him. He frowned again. Hadn't his mother said something about discussing the education she felt he needed this morning? He would have expected her to arrive before now. If there was one thing he had learned about Pasiphae over the past few weeks, it was that she was never late and could not abide tardiness. Perhaps she had been held up; perhaps something had happened.

Before Jason could think about it anymore, a knock sounded at the door. That must be Pasiphae now. Subconsciously Jason relaxed.

"Come in," he said.

It wasn't Pasiphae that swept regally into the room, however. Instead Pythagoras popped his head around the door.

"Are you decent?" he called.

Jason grinned.

"Yeah," he answered.

Pythagoras came in fully and gently closed the door behind himself. He crossed the room with a broad smile on his face and stopped near the fire, extending his hands towards the blaze to warm them.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, coming to sit down near Jason and placing the satchel he had been carrying on the floor.

"I think I slept for too long," Jason responded ruefully. "I can't seem to wake up properly."

Pythagoras looked slightly guilty.

"I am afraid that might be my fault," he said. "When Hercules said that you were still sleeping earlier I presumed that you needed it and asked Alexarchos to ensure that you were not disturbed."

"You were probably right," Jason answered. "I haven't been sleeping all that well lately… too much going on I suppose."

Pythagoras hesitated for a moment.

"Is that all it is?" he asked carefully.

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" he responded.

"There is nothing else troubling you?"

Jason's frown deepened. He had briefly forgotten how perceptive Pythagoras could be at times.

"I'm fine," he answered guardedly. "It's just with everything that's happened over the past few weeks… well you know… I'm a bit unsettled at times… plus I miss the cat. I'd got used to her sleeping with me and it feels odd now that she's not here." He paused. "Do you think she's alright?"

"I have to admit that I miss Isosceles too," Pythagoras answered. "I am sure she is fine and I know that Meriones will look after her. There was no practical way we could have brought her with us and yet I find myself looking for her and missing her at odd times of the day."

"I know," Jason said. "You know Hercules would never let either one of us forget it if he knew we missed the cat don't you?"

Pythagoras quirked a smile.

"I suspect that Hercules probably misses Isosceles every bit as much as we do," he pointed out. "Not that he would ever admit it of course."

"Where is he anyway?"

"I am not entirely sure," Pythagoras confessed. "Although I did hear some of the soldiers in the camp talking about a dice game yesterday."

"As long as he doesn't lose his shirt again," Jason said.

"Oh I suspect he probably will," Pythagoras answered with a wry smile. "Half of Atlantis owns items of Hercules' clothing by now. No doubt he will turn up when he is ready. If he has had a lucky day we will not hear the end of it. Either way he will have drunk more than is good for him."

"Either celebrating his win or drowning his sorrows?" Jason chuckled.

"Something like that."

"As long as he doesn't let the King or Queen see him in that state," Jason said, sobering.

"We will have to keep an eye out for him then," Pythagoras replied.

"Speaking of the Queen… she said something yesterday about coming to see me this morning," Jason murmured. "She's never late. I'm beginning to think something's happened… it hasn't, has it?"

"Not that I know of," Pythagoras responded. "I believe that two more of the kings have arrived and are closeted with King Minos, deep in discussion… but that is all." He hesitated. "I think I may be here in the Queen's place," he admitted.

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Earlier this morning I had an audience with the Queen at her request," Pythagoras answered. He hesitated again. "Jason before I go on I have a question for you… Pasiphae indicated that she wished you to learn about the laws and customs of Atlantis and claimed you had agreed to it… is this true?"

Jason sighed.

"Yes," he answered. "She seems keen on it and I guess it wouldn't hurt to know a bit more about everything. At least if I know what most of the laws are I can hopefully avoid getting us all sentenced to the bull court again."

Pythagoras shot him a faintly amused look.

"I somehow doubt that your mother would allow the King to do that," he said. "I suspect she might start slicing off bits of his anatomy if he tried."

Jason snorted.

"She does seem a bit protective," he acknowledged.

"And fierce," Pythagoras said. "She is definitely fierce."

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "She's definitely fierce… and has a very hard hand," he added, unconsciously rubbing his cheek where she had slapped him last night – although the sting had faded even before she had left him and retired for the night.

Pythagoras looked startled.

"She hit you?" he asked.

Right at that moment Jason was glad they were alone – somehow he couldn't see Hercules reacting well or understanding.

"She slapped me," he clarified, "but I deserved it. I said something unforgivable… I called her a prostitute – a pornai."

"Jason!" Pythagoras sounded shocked.

"I know… I know," Jason answered. "I overheard King Laius flirting with her… I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth."

"I am surprised you are still here to tell the tale," Pythagoras murmured earnestly. "The Queen has a reputation for dealing swiftly with people who cross her."

Jason's mouth twisted into a smile.

"I know she is not always a good woman… that she can be wicked… but over the last few weeks… she's not the person I thought she was."

"Maybe… but I would still not go out of my way to offend her."

"You once told me that you knew the Queen was evil and deserved to die."

"I did," Pythagoras acknowledged. "Although as I recall, you were fairly convinced of the fact yourself at the time."

"Yeah," Jason agreed. He huffed a short, breathy laugh. "Who would have thought back then that we'd end up where we are now?"

"Not me," Pythagoras answered. He looked seriously at Jason. "I still cannot say that the Queen does not unnerve me and I still fear her intentions. As you have said she is not a good woman… but for your sake I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"She wants me to be educated," Jason muttered. "I've been educated… I've been to university… although, as she kindly pointed out, it doesn't really help me very much with the laws and customs of Atlantis."

Pythagoras looked curious.

"What is 'university'?" he asked.

"Umm, it's a type of advanced school that you can choose to go to where I come from," Jason answered. "Most people that go to university go when they're eighteen and stay for three or four years – depending on the course you choose. Basically you choose a subject to specialise in and just study that. Not everyone goes to university… it's pretty much something you have to want to do."

It felt good to talk a little about where he came from with his friends now that they knew the truth – although Jason was still being careful to a certain extent and trying to avoid talking about anything that might actually alter the future.

Pythagoras' eyes lit up.

"It is not considered odd to wish to study where you come from then?" he demanded.

"Not really," Jason answered.

"I wish I could see it," Pythagoras breathed, his eyes shining. "In Samos I was always treated as an oddity for my love of learning," he admitted. "Even in Atlantis it is a little unusual. I know that in great cities like Athens education is prized and scholars revered but it is still something that is beyond the reaches of most ordinary men… To be educated or to wish to spend your life as a scholar you must have money… it is beyond the means of most citizens."

"You still have to pay for university where I come from," Jason replied. "But it is a bit more accessible to most people than education is here. Everyone goes to school when they're five and stays until they're eighteen – it's compulsory actually – and girls are treated the same as boys… taught the same things. I still don't understand why you don't educate girls properly here."

"It must be a wondrous thing to see," Pythagoras said a little sadly.

Jason smiled affectionately.

"Only you could get excited about children going to school," he said. "Anyway, getting back to the point, I told Pasiphae that I couldn't make any decisions about the future until I know what normal life in the Palace and Court would entail. I still want to come home with you guys… but I'm not sure that's an option any more. I know she wants me to go to the Palace permanently but I can't make that sort of decision yet… So she's decided that I need to learn what the role of prince entails… that I need to learn about the history of Atlantis and all the laws and customs. I think she's decided that it will help me to understand my place in the world. She wants me to have some sort of tutor I think. I'm just hoping that she doesn't pick some dry, crusty old academic… although I'm not sure that she'll have all that much choice. There can't be many people who she would find suitable I guess. Why did you ask about it though? And why did you ask if I'd agreed?"

Pythagoras paused for a moment.

"I told you that the Queen had summoned me to an audience this morning," he said softly.

"Yeah," Jason responded.

"She has asked me to help you to begin to study while we are in Pagenia; to tutor you," Pythagoras said looking straight at his friend. "She seems to think you would react badly to a tutor that you did not like. I do not know the intricacies and nuances of life in Court but the Queen indicated that that was not important at this stage. For now, she wishes me to ascertain where any gaps in your knowledge might lie and begin to fill those gaps at a basic level. Apparently a more suitable tutor will be engaged upon our return to Atlantis to cover the more complex areas of study."

Jason frowned, his lips forming a thin, disapproving line.

"She shouldn't have done that," he protested softly. "She doesn't have any right to make you give up your time."

"You are being ridiculous," Pythagoras answered. "It would be my pleasure. The Queen is not making me give up my time unwillingly and she has offered me suitable recompense. I did tell her that I did not need to be bribed to help a friend but she indicated that she wished to pay me the wages that she would pay any pedagogue. I will admit that the thought of being paid for a job I would actually enjoy rather than one of Hercules' guarding jobs is enticing. I will enjoy helping you to learn all that the Queen feels is necessary and I had hoped that it might give me the opportunity to learn a little more about the world that you have come from… particularly how education works and what subjects you have been taught. Your 'university' sounds fascinating and I would like to learn more. I find the idea of spending days in pleasant company, both teaching and, I hope, studying to be a pleasant one." He hesitated. "Unless you would like someone else… I confess I have allowed myself to become carried away. If you would prefer a different tutor I will understand."

"Don't be stupid," Jason said. "Of course I'd rather it was you. I mean I could be lumbered with some crusty, boring old man. I just didn't want Pasiphae to be taking advantage of you… and I'm not sure how this is going to work. I don't like to be cooped up and my abiding memory of both school and university is of sitting in the corner of a stuffy classroom and trying not to fall asleep… or at least not get caught falling asleep. I did alright in school I guess. Just kept my head down and got on with it… but I never thought I'd be going back and I never really wanted to."

"Yet you told me you like to read," Pythagoras said gently.

"That's different," Jason replied. "I've always liked reading."

"Why?"

"Sorry?"

"I asked why?" Pythagoras said patiently. "What is it that appeals to you?"

"I suppose it's because it's an escape," Jason answered thoughtfully. "It doesn't matter what's going on in your life… you can still lose yourself for a little while and forget everything. I once heard someone say 'we read to know that we're not alone'… I don't know if that's true or not but I liked the idea. Plus, a book is normally small enough to carry around easily so it didn't matter if I was being sent on to somewhere else, I could still take one with me." He glanced at Pythagoras. "A book is lots of pieces of parchment bound together into a block and wrapped in a cover," he added, pre-empting what he thought the mathematician's next question might be.

"Like a codex then?" Pythagoras asked. "They have such things in some of the larger libraries… Alexandria; Athens; possibly even the Palace library in Atlantis – I have heard tell that it contains many wondrous secrets. A codex is prohibitively expensive, however. Scrolls or pieces of parchment are much cheaper. There are many codices where you come from then? It must be an amazing sight and everyone must be a great deal richer than they are here."

"Books are cheap where I come from," Jason answered. "Over the centuries they've found ways to make them cheaper and cheaper. Most books cost about the same as a bottle of wine… cheaper if it's good wine."

Pythagoras' mouth opened in an 'o'; his blue eyes wide and shining with fascination.

"I wish that it was like that here," he breathed.

"Trust me, where I grew up wasn't exactly paradise," Jason answered firmly. "There's plenty of bad stuff that happens there too… just like it does in Atlantis. In some ways Atlantis is a much nicer place... a simpler place. I know where I'd rather be and it isn't where I grew up."

"All of this is digressing somewhat from the point anyway," Pythagoras murmured. "I understand your hesitancy to commit to lessons if you did not enjoy your schooling, but I believe that we might find ways together to make it a more pleasurable experience for both of us. I do not believe that we need to stay in a 'stuffy' classroom, as you called it. The Queen informed me of the subjects she wished you to know and instructed me to begin with initial testing to ascertain where any gaps in your current knowledge might lie, but she neglected to stipulate where and how any lessons should take place. I am to report to her again once I have administered the tests to inform her of the results and receive further instruction as to which subjects she wishes me to concentrate on initially… and to keep her informed on any progress we make."

Jason pulled a face.

"She's taking this a bit too seriously," he grumbled. "I feel like I'm a kid going back to school."

"A baby goat?" Pythagoras asked with confusion. "Why on earth would you feel like a baby goat?"

"No," Jason said with a laugh. "It's an informal name for a child."

"Oh," Pythagoras said. "I hardly think that you are a child," he added.

"I know that," Jason replied, "but I'm not entirely sure that Pasiphae does." He looked at Pythagoras speculatively. "I suppose since she's roped you in to this we'd better get on with it," he suggested.

Pythagoras smiled brightly and reached into his satchel for a sheaf of parchments.

"Very well," he said. "Let us move to the table. We will begin with mathematics."


Meriones looked up from the warehouse inventory he was carefully going over as Gelo slipped into the room.

"Well?" he demanded.

"They got away cleanly," Gelo answered.

"Good," Meriones rumbled.

"It seems that the messenger we managed to slip out in the last lot managed to get through to Pathmos and delivered his message to Kerkyon too."

"How do you know?" Meriones asked.

"Because Kerkyon was waiting for us outside the city," Gelo said. "He arrived a few days ago and is camping in the woods."

Meriones frowned.

"I did not intend him to return," he growled. "He is a fool to risk coming here."

"Maybe," Gelo agreed. "But then what we're doing isn't the sanest thing. I think Kerkyon thought he could help get our escapees a bit further away from the city. Besides, he brought news."

Meriones pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the window, rubbing thoughtfully at his great, black beard.

"What news?" he demanded.

Gelo came to stand beside him and sighed deeply.

"It seems that we're in a more desperate situation than we thought," he murmured.

"How so?"

"Kerkyon told me that the rumour is that the garrisons in the outlying towns are deserting in their droves," Gelo replied. "When our new King," he laced the words with contempt, "finally decides to turn his attention to the rest of the kingdom he will meet with little resistance. The Amphigeneians will simply be able to walk in and take over most of it without a fight."

"The garrisons are deserting," Meriones murmured to himself. He looked sharply at Gelo. "Where are the men from the garrisons going?" he asked.

"No-one knows," Gelo answered. "All Kerkyon could say was that they are leaving the towns and apparently disappearing. Most people think they're just going to their home towns and trying to hide the fact they were soldiers."

"I find that unlikely," Meriones retorted. "One or two soldiers maybe… even a dozen or two… but to desert en masse? For all the garrisons to decide to desert at the same time? No, my friend. There is more at work here than a few soldiers returning home."

"So where do you think they're going?" Gelo asked.

Meriones grinned.

"I think they are following orders."

"What orders?" Gelo demanded with confusion. "Whose?"

"I think that if we wished for proof that King Minos had survived and escaped we have it," Meriones answered. "I think he is gathering an army and is calling his men to him. I only hope that wherever he is hiding… wherever the army is gathering… they manage to remain secret for long enough to form properly and plan their attack… I would not wish Anaxandros to learn of their location and fall on them before they are prepared."

"You believe this is truly possible?" Gelo asked.

"I do, my friend," Meriones answered. "I do indeed. It gives me hope that the city might be reclaimed yet. Now, what news from the city?"

"More are arrested every day," Gelo said morosely. "More than we could ever manage to help. Anaxandros' prison cells are bursting with the condemned… and still the people go to watch his 'games' in the arena; to watch their friends and neighbours being torn apart."

"They go because they are afraid," Meriones stated softly. "Because they fear that if they are not seen to support the regime they too will be condemned to a terrible fate. Do not condemn them for their fear. You saw how the people fought the night the Amphigeneians first broke into the city… they would fight again if they believed there to be any chance of success. For now, they see no hope… but hope will come."

"You believe that?"

"I have to my friend, because if I do not – if I lose hope – then all we are working for has been for nothing… and I refuse to accept that. No. Hope will return when we least expect it and the Amphigeneians will be swept from the city and back to where they came from."

"I think maybe Anaxandros fears the same thing," Gelo said. "I thought that Minos was paranoid but he had nothing on Anaxandros."

"What has he done now?"

"The same as what he was doing before really. Issuing increasingly paranoid proclamations. Sending out his soldiers to arrest anyone even suspected of dissent. There's an old woman that's one of the spice sellers in the agora. She was moaning about the fact that she's had trouble with her supplies for the past few weeks and the next thing you know she's been arrested on suspicion of sedition and treason and carted off to the cells. The woman's half blind and walks with a stick!"

"Not someone we supply?" Meriones asked. He knew most of the market traders he dealt with by name and was naturally a little concerned that any investigation might focus attention onto him – something which he needed to avoid under the present circumstances for as long as possible.

"No. She gets her supplies from Audax," Gelo answered, naming one of Meriones' competitors. "But there's no way she could have been plotting treason – the woman can barely walk. From what I've gathered the soldiers have been and rounded up her entire family too… including her husband and he's been an invalid in bed for the last five years."

"As I have said before, they are trying to rule by fear," Meriones murmured. "What Anaxandros fails to realise though, is that the more he oppresses the people the more he will kindle the flame of rebellion. As he tightens the net, more and more people will slip through the gaps."

"Every proclamation he issues is a variation on the same theme," Gelo stated. "How Minos was an evil usurper; how we're all lucky to have Anaxandros as our new King; how it's the duty of every citizen to inform against their friends and neighbours; how all goods and wealth must be reported to the new overseers; how the King and the Princess must be found and anyone found to have information about their whereabouts or to be harbouring any "fugitives from justice" will be dealt with without mercy… but the strange thing is that every proclamation also contains a demand for information about King Aeson's son. It's all very odd. It's like Anaxandros is obsessed with chasing a ghost… but ghosts do not really exist. Unless of course the rumours were true and the child survived."

Meriones looked away, schooling his expression to remain blank. Gelo looked at him sharply.

"What do you know of this?" he demanded.

"I?" Meriones said. "I know nothing."

"Don't give me that," Gelo said abruptly. "I know you too well. You know something, even if you don't want to tell me what that something is. Did the Prince survive?"

"How would a humble merchant like myself know that?" Meriones asked.

"Meriones," Gelo growled. "I've worked for you since I was a boy. I know you too well. You have contacts everywhere. There is very little that goes on in this city that you do not know about. Now tell me what you know."

Meriones sighed.

"The child survived," he said shortly.

"And you know what happened to him," Gelo breathed.

"I do not know where the boy was taken when he was spirited from the city," Meriones answered. "I had nothing to do with it and knew nothing of it for many years. Nor do I know exactly where he is now."

It was strictly speaking the truth, he told himself. After all, he knew that Jason had escaped the city but didn't know where he had gone since.

"You know where he was though," Gelo said shrewdly. "And you know who he is."

Meriones sighed.

"I cannot tell you," he said. He raised one enormous hand to forestall his friend's objection. "I am not keeping this from you in an attempt to protect you – although it is dangerous knowledge to possess. I am protecting…" he broke off and looked away. "It is not my secret to tell," he said softly, "and it is unclear whether the boy will wish to lay claim to his birth right. If he does not then it would be safer for him and be kinder to him to allow him to remain anonymous."

"The child would have grown into a young man now," Gelo mused. "He must be… what? Early to mid-twenties? He cannot have been raised in or near to Atlantis or his identity would probably have been discovered before now… and yet he must have ties to the city for you to have learned who he is. Perhaps he returned here when he was older? So a relative newcomer then. Since he was taken away as an infant the boy is going to be pretty much unrecognisable… but most people have at least a passing resemblance to their parents."

"Please, my friend," Meriones murmured. "I beg of you. You must cease this speculation. No good can come of it and you would only endanger both us and those I seek to protect."

"I won't say any more about it," Gelo promised. "But the more that Anaxandros mentions the Prince in his proclamations, the more people are wondering."

"I know," Meriones said. "He made a mistake with that first proclamation and is only compounding it now. It appears that our new King is not a man who can easily accept that anything he has done is a mistake… It may work to our advantage now. There are others acting as we are in other parts of the city… others who are risking everything to save as many as they can from the Amphigeneians and who are resisting the new rule in every way possible. It would be precipitous to make any direct moves against our oppressors but the more rumours we can spread in secret the more resistance and discontent will grow. I will try to get word to those brave souls in the city who are resisting the Amphigeneian tyranny. We will use Anaxandros' mistake against him."

"But won't that also endanger those you are trying to protect?" Gelo asked.

"As long as the boy's identity remains a secret it will not," Meriones answered. "There are few people who know him well enough to even make a guess as to his true identity."

"So why did you suggest that my speculations might have endangered him?" Gelo asked, sounding slightly affronted.

"Because you know what others do not," Meriones pointed out. "That I know his identity. I think it would lead you to the truth before too long. Others will not even know that much and so any speculation on the part of the populous will be largely idle speculation."

Gelo sighed softly.

"Oh I think I can probably already hazard a guess at the truth," he said with a wry twist to his mouth. "It is as well that our friends are out of the city at the moment."

"It is indeed, my friend," Meriones answered. "It is indeed."


"He has demanded what?"

It had been a long time since Minos had heard Pasiphae sound so livid. He looked at his wife in surprise. Somehow, given the antagonistic nature of the relationship between his wife and daughter, he hadn't thought she would be angered by Agrias' request. Yet it seemed that she was positively seething.

"How dare he?" Pasiphae demanded. "How dare he be so arrogant as to presume…" She took a deep breath to regain control of herself.

This did not suit her plans at all and yet her plans would come to nothing if Atlantis could not be reclaimed – and for that they would need all the help and troops they could get. That was the most galling thing of all – they needed Agrias' help and for that they must acquiesce to his demands. Ironically, Pasiphae could see the attraction for the Tanagran monarch. Ariadne was perhaps Atlantis' greatest asset and prize. Much as she was not overly fond of the girl, the Queen could see her value. To an ambitious king looking for an advantageous match for his younger son she must look like an enticing trophy indeed. After all she would bring to any marriage the prospect of the annexation of an entire kingdom; of obtaining a domain for a younger son to rule where he might be kept from challenging his older brother for the throne of his native kingdom and used to obtain additional resources for the land of his birth. To demand Ariadne's hand in exchange for Agrias' help in reclaiming Atlantis was a very clever ploy and one which, had the situations been reversed, Pasiphae might have considered herself.

But marrying Ariadne off to the younger son of a rival king had never been part of any plan – either the King or Queen's. To lose control of the city in that way was, to Pasiphae's mind, unthinkable. No. When the time was right Ariadne should be married off to Jason. That would ensure Pasiphae's position for the next generation. Plus, it would ensure her son's happiness – something that Pasiphae was surprised to discover was remarkably important to her and growing more important each day.

The Queen moved to the window and stared out at the vineyard that clung to the sides of the hill, lashed by the storm as it had been for much of the afternoon, as she tried to come up with an acceptable solution to Minos' dilemma. It was true that she and Ariadne had been at loggerheads for years but, having endured a marriage to a man she had not met, Pasiphae would still like to save her stepdaughter from that fate – that indignity – if she could.

It was only a betrothal that was under discussion though, she reminded herself, and not actually a marriage (although she was in no doubt that as soon as the engysis was made Agrias would push for a quick wedding to seal the deal) – and as had happened with Heptarian, betrothal agreements could be broken for a variety of reasons. Minos would not agree to such a thing, of course. In spite of the way he had taken the throne in the first place, he was far too honourable to make an engysis for his daughter knowing that he intended to break it in the future. Besides which it would be a bad move politically; would only lead to distrust and discord among his allies and could potentially cause conflict between Atlantis and Tanagra.

If the betrothal were made (and it seemed to Pasiphae's sharp, political mind that it would have to be made) then it would be down to the Queen to find a way to break it without any hint of scandal falling on either Minos or Ariadne. She would have to find a way to make either Agrias or his son choose to break the engysis of their own accord while still maintaining the image of Atlantis. Such a thing could be done of course, but it would take a deal of political manoeuvring behind the scenes on her part – and no-one could ever know that she had done it.

"Agrias of Tanagra is a man of little honour to suggest that you should marry your only daughter to his son without ever even seeing the boy," Pasiphae said coldly. "We only have his word for the fact that the boy is as worthy as he claims. He must come here and be judged before any engysis can be made."

"I told Agrias much the same thing," Minos answered flatly. "Although I was careful not to imply that Agrias' son might be any less than his father was claiming. It seemed imprudent to suggest otherwise."

"Indeed," Pasiphae agreed.

"I had not expected you to be so angry about this matter," Minos ventured. "I am… aware that you and Ariadne are not close."

It was the closest Minos had ever come to admitting that the relationship between his wife and daughter was less than cordial, Pasiphae noted.

"Regardless of any tension between us and what might have passed between us in the past, I have no wish to see your daughter condemned to a loveless marriage with a man she has not even met," she answered coolly. "I was once a young bride, married to a man that I did not know; given away to a husband who I had never laid eyes on to protect my country's interests. I remember it all too well and would save Ariadne that fate if I could."

"Your feelings do you credit," Minos murmured. He sat down heavily on a couch in the corner of the private chamber he and his wife were talking in. "I need your wisdom now, Pasiphae. I cannot see clearly what I must do. The Gods help me, I need Agrias' men… and I cannot afford to offend him. If I were to refuse his demand he would remove his troops back to his own kingdom and refuse to come to our aid, and I suspect that others of our allies would desert us under those circumstances. Yet how can I promise him ultimate control over Atlantis – for I can foresee no other outcome. If his son is married to my daughter then he will become heir to Atlantis and ultimately the city and kingdom will fall under the control of Tanagra. And how can I give him – an unknown boy – my daughter? Am I to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of the city?"

"We cannot afford to show weakness, Minos," Pasiphae answered sharply. "Our enemies are circling and if we are to have any chance of regaining Atlantis we must be strong."

"What would you have me do?" Minos asked. "Must I gamble with both our city and my daughter's feelings? I know of Ariadne's feelings for Jason… and that they are returned. I had hoped that with time that your son might prove worthy as a suitor for Ariadne but it seems that our time has run out. No matter what my own feelings in the matter might be I am not sure I can risk losing Agrias' army and potentially the chance to retake Atlantis. I cannot see a way out of this betrothal no matter how hard I try and no matter how distasteful the match might seem to be. Agrias has me trapped. I need your advice like never before."

"And you shall have it My Lord," Pasiphae murmured, coming to stand beside her husband. She took a breath, her mind working quickly. "You are right, I think. The engysis must be made. No matter how much we may dislike the outcome or the way you have been forced into it. We must make the best of the situation as best we can. As long as Atlantis is not in your hands our position is weak and our ability to bargain poor. We must pray to the Gods for their help. Only they can bless any union between Ariadne and Agrias' son. If it is their will that Ariadne should marry this boy, then they will make it known. For now, it is paramount that you obtain the support that you need to reclaim Atlantis. Until we are back in our rightful places everything else must be of secondary consideration. Make the betrothal… but make it clear to Agrias that no actual marriage can take place until Atlantis is back in your hands."

Minos sighed.

"Very well," he said. "You are right. Atlantis must come above every other concern. I will agree to Agrias' terms and give his son my daughter's hand. He has given me this night to make my decision and inform Ariadne, and I will go to him tomorrow to give him my answer and make the agreement. The formal engysis must wait for the boy to arrive in Pagenia but an agreement in principle will be made between myself and his father. I will speak with Ariadne after supper tonight."

Pasiphae nodded and turned away, a dark and unpleasant smile coming over her features out of sight of her husband. Let Agrias make his play for control over Atlantis; let the betrothal be made and the Tanagran monarch think that he had won. Pasiphae would ensure that no marriage would ever take place. As soon as Minos had reclaimed Atlantis, she would strike and remove the threat that this boy posed. This was a game that she had no intention of losing.