A/N I think I should probably start with a huge apology! How is it over two months since I posted a chapter? I am so sorry - I never intended to leave it this long. My only excuse is that I have had really horrible writer's block since I posted the last chapter. In an attempt to rid myself of it I've even started two new one-shots - which are currently languishing in work-in-progress hell because I haven't been able to finish them either :-(
I also need to say a big thank you to everyone that reviewed my last chapter. It does mean a lot to me that there are people still reading this story and I only hope the long gap between chapters hasn't put you off.
So, on to the new chapter. Please let me know if you enjoy it (and are still reading). Given that it's taken me so long to get anything down on paper I'm not as confident about it as I would like to be. Thanks for reading :-)
The sky was clear and cloudless and the day was warm; a welcome respite from the midwinter storms. Pasiphae wandered alone down the peaceful paths of the garden, allowing the tranquillity of the place to flow through her. This section of the garden was reserved for the women of the household alone (much like the gynaikonitis within the house itself where only men related by blood or marriage were permitted to enter) so Pasiphae was not worried that she would be disturbed. To her mind the only person that might be likely to disturb her quiet contemplation was Ariadne and, as she knew that this was the time when the girl attended to her devotions and duties at the temple, that seemed highly unlikely.
Pasiphae allowed her mind to drift for a time as she meandered. There were so many different problems for her to wrestle with. Pasiphae prided herself on having a high level of political acumen and a well organised mind. She had, after all, survived in the cutthroat arena that was the Atlantian court for well over twenty years and had thrived where other weaker souls had fallen by the wayside and been devoured. Now she used that level of mental organisation to good effect; now she needed to – the stakes had never been higher for her it seemed. And there was so very much to think about, after all.
She resolutely shoved all thoughts of her son to the farthest corner of her mind. He was beyond her aid now; was somewhere between here and Athanos and there was nothing she could do to help him. It was natural, she decided, to be a little worried about him – knowing that the task he had volunteered for was a dangerous one (and she was still more than a little cross at Jason for volunteering in the first place and more than a little cross at Minos for accepting his offer – even if she did realise that her husband had had little choice. That last thought mollified her a little) – but it would do no good to allow those worries to consume her; to allow herself to be overtaken by unreasoning anxiety. There was no reason to believe that any harm would come to Jason after all.
Instead of allowing herself to think about the dangers her son might be facing she turned her mind to other issues. Even if they succeeded in raising an army (which seemed increasingly likely), how long could they keep it a secret from Anaxandros? As long as they remained camped in Pagenia and the bulk of their allies' forces remained beyond the borders of Atlantis it was safe enough, but surely Anaxandros would be alerted as soon as those forces began to move across the border and then he would be prepared for them. And even if they did manage by some miracle to take their enemies by surprise the city would not be easy to take. It had been built to withstand a siege and developed over the centuries into a strong fortress. The Amphigeneians had clearly taken it by treachery, using the sewers and drainage tunnels beneath the city to great effect (and how exactly had they known that the tunnels were there? Pasiphae's eyes narrowed as she thought about it. There had obviously been a traitor in the court and they would have to root him out and bring him to justice immediately on their return to their rightful positions) so they could not expect Anaxandros to fall for the same thing. He would obviously guard the entrances to the sewers closely.
Pasiphae's mind drifted back to a conversation she had had with her husband some days earlier. Minos had discussed the stories that the refugees from Atlantis were telling of their own escapes; told her of a conversation he had heard between her son and his friends that had referred to old smugglers' tunnels beneath the city – long forgotten by all but the most adventurous children; spoke of the conversation he had had with Hercules the next day where he had learned of the rumours about these tunnels. It appeared that he had a friend within the city who had helped Jason and the others escape through these tunnels. Perhaps they could be used to get men within the walls? Yet she could not quite see how this would help. The descriptions she had had of them made the tunnels sound too small and cramped to be used by a large body of men – although their entrances did at least seem to be well concealed. It seemed impossible that they would be able to get a force large enough to do any good into the city by this means. For such an endeavour to succeed they would need the element of surprise anyway. Which brought her right back to the first problem – how to move a large army across the countryside without it being noticed by the enemy.
Of course tradition dictated that as a woman she should play no part in planning the coming war (because they were still at war even if Anaxandros didn't yet know where they were), but Pasiphae had only ever really bothered with tradition when it suited her purposes. Many of Minos' fellow kings were deeply conservative men, however, and would need to be manoeuvred around carefully. Not that that worried the Queen; she had had plenty of practice at manipulating people over the years.
There were other things she could do to help matters along too. Back in the cave at Dodona (as soon as she had been well enough to be aware of what was going on around her) Pasiphae had been gratified to find that she was still in possession of Jason's knife, stained with Anaxandros' dried blood. She suspected that no-one had realised she had picked it up from the floor of the Temple before she had been shot and she would rather keep it that way. As it was, the fact that no-one seemed to know that she had it was definitely useful and meant that she could practice her other arts in secret and at leisure.
She had already found a secluded corner of the house (a room that appeared to have been largely forgotten even by the servants) where she could set up a small shrine to Hekate, and the ground outside contained enough clay in it to allow her to make a small figure. All that she would need to do would be to scrape the dried blood from the knife, add a little water to it (not too much of course – she didn't want to dilute its potency and therefore the potency of the spell after all) and mix it with the clay. Then she would be able to cause harm to Anaxandros without even needing to be near him.
For now she held off. It was important to get the timing right after all. With everything the Amphigeneian King had done (and poisoning her son came fairly highly up on that particular list) Pasiphae wanted him to suffer as much as possible. The bloodthirsty side of her nature screamed for revenge. She would make Anaxandros pay for everything he had done.
She considered the matter carefully. Gratifying though it might be to act instantly and know that she was causing the man immeasurable pain it would be better to bide her time and strike at a moment when it would do the most damage – while their forces were attacking Atlantis for instance. Distracting Anaxandros at such a time could prove fatal to him. It would not take long to set up a shrine to the Goddess or to complete the necessary rituals. Such a thing could easily be achieved on the move and, while the room here in the house would have been ideal, there was nothing to say that she should not use a tent or find a secluded grove once they were on the march – because she would be marching with the army whether the allied kings liked it or not; had no intention of being left behind in Pagenia to await the outcome of the battle.
And if Pasiphae was going with the army then so was Ariadne. She knew that Minos would probably object to placing his daughter in any danger but the Queen could not see that she would be in any less danger if she were left here in Pagenia with no more than a token force to guard her. After all, if she travelled with them she would be surrounded by an entire army to protect her. More to the point though, Pasiphae had no intention of letting the girl out of her sight as long as the Tanagran boy was sniffing around her. Prince Chalcon might very well be as honourable as he seemed (although Pasiphae would be very surprised if he was) but the fact remained that, because of his father's machinations and insistence on the betrothal, he remained a threat.
Pasiphae had long believed in keeping her friends close and her enemies closer – that way she could spot and exploit their weaknesses. If she was to break the engysis between Chalcon and Ariadne she needed to watch the boy and observe his interactions with the Atlantian Princess. It would not be a simple matter and would take all of her abilities to manipulate the situation to a point where the engagement could be broken without any repercussions for Atlantis or Minos. Still, Pasiphae was more than equal to the task.
She wandered on through the manicured paths of the garden, stopping occasionally to sniff the winter flowers or admire a sculpture, her mind still lost deep in thought.
"Pasiphae." The voice with startled her was decidedly female, but not one which Pasiphae had thought to ever hear again. Its tone was completely flat, betraying none of the emotion that the speaker must naturally be feeling.
Pasiphae turned with a raised eyebrow to face her companion, every inch the regal and elegant Queen.
"Tyro," she returned the greeting, her own tone reasonable and even.
Her former mother-in-law was aging well, she decided. Her once dark hair might be silver now, piled on top of her head in an elaborate style that hid the wild curls her grandson had inherited from her, but her face remained unlined and her features delicate. Her eyes were flat and unfriendly right now, which was only to be expected Pasiphae supposed, but the Queen suspected that in other circumstances they would still sparkle with the hint of mischief. Tyro had always worn her emotions in her eyes and it seemed that time had done little to change that.
"It has been a long time," old lady remarked, still with as little emotion as she could manage.
"More than twenty years," Pasiphae acknowledged.
"Not since you stole the throne from my son, forced him into exile and condemned him to a lonely death… if you did not simply arrange for him to be murdered in the turmoil when no-one was looking that is."
"What I did, I did for Atlantis," Pasiphae answered, forcing herself to keep a grip on her temper.
"What you did, you did for yourself," Tyro retorted. "Please don't try to pretend you had any sort of high moral sentiments. I know you too well to believe that. You destroyed my son to gain the power that you craved."
"We both lost sons in that particular accursed war," Pasiphae responded sharply. She closed her eyes briefly against the momentary ache in her chest; Jason might be part of her life now but she could still never forget the pain of losing him in the first place, or fail to regret all the wasted years when she believed him to be dead.
Tyro gave a bitter sigh and stepped backwards to seat herself on a nearby bench. She gestured imperiously for Pasiphae to join her. Pasiphae almost smiled. Whether she was living in seclusion away from the Court or not, Tyro was still every inch a queen. This was the woman who Pasiphae had learned much of the art of being a queen from; the elegance and poise that went with the position; the ability to dazzle and charm; the art of political manoeuvring. Tyro had perhaps been more benign than her former daughter-in-law was, yet she had controlled the Court with superb efficiency – all while making them believe that she was no more than a dutiful wife fulfilling the role in life she had been assigned. Pasiphae had always been deeply impressed with the way that Tyro had manipulated the nobility to promote her husband's (and later her son's) interests. She wondered idly what would have happened if the former Queen had been as ruthless and ambitious as she herself was.
She stepped lightly across the pathway and sat down next to the older woman.
"You did indeed lose a son," Tyro said softly. "I do not forget and I do not deny that fact… it is a sorrow that does not fade with the passage of time. Yet of the two of us I think I lost the most," she added with a sidelong glance at Pasiphae. "You lost a child but I lost both a son and a grandson. I lost everything."
"Indeed," Pasiphae acknowledged, looking out across the path at the tranquil garden. "Although that was never my intention. I bore you no ill will – I still don't. Of all the people in Atlantis, you were the one who was kind to me when I first arrived. You taught me much about ruling… about being Queen of Atlantis."
A faint smile touched the old lady's lips.
"You were so frightened the day you arrived in our Court," she said. "A naïve girl full of hopes and dreams. What happened to you Pasiphae? What twisted that innocent girl into someone so hungry for power? What made you betray and usurp your husband?" Her tone became harsh as she went on.
"I grew up," Pasiphae bit back, "and realised that I was never going to be good enough for your precious son."
"He loved you."
"At first, perhaps… but when I failed to give him heirs that love soon turned to indifference. He blamed me, you know? Because I did not provide him with a gaggle of snivelling brats."
"But when Jason was born…"
"By then it was too late," Pasiphae retorted. "The damage was done. Aeson no longer looked on me with the passion he once had and I had found other… interests to fill my life. I will admit that we were at least united in our love for our son, but there was little else left between us by that point. He feared my heritage – feared the power that was mine by right as a woman of Colchis – and I despised him for his weaknesses."
"You call my son weak?" Tyro hissed.
"What else should I call him?" Pasiphae snapped. "He believed so strongly in his divine right to rule that he failed to realise that his policies had managed to turn half the kingdom against him."
"Aeson was trying to make life better for everyone," the older woman replied sharply.
"Perhaps that is so but as King he needed the support of the nobility… and he lost it."
"Thanks to your treachery," Tyro answered.
"I barely had to lift a finger," Pasiphae flared. "The nobility were ready to rise against him with very little encouragement. Aeson was hardly universally loved and barely missed when he was gone." She looked sharply at her former mother-in-law. "Oh I know he was noble and virtuous, but tell me this: if Aeson was such a good King why have there been no rebellions against Minos' rule in all the years from then until now? When he lost the civil war he slunk away like a whipped dog to lick his wounds. He is barely even remembered in the city." She reined in her temper with some effort. "I have no desire to argue with you Tyro; no desire to hurt you any more than you have already been hurt. The past is the past… let us leave it there."
"I live with the consequences of the past every day."
"We all live with the consequences of our pasts," Pasiphae replied, "but it does no good to dwell on ancient history."
The older lady closed her eyes and huffed a humourless laugh.
"Perhaps," she acknowledged grudgingly. She paused for a moment. "I had not thought to ever see either you or His Majesty again… I had hoped that I would not. That I might be permitted to live out my days in peace here in my home."
"This house and everything in it belongs to the King," Pasiphae said. "You live here at Minos' pleasure."
"And I know I should be grateful for that," Tyro answered, her eyes flashing fire. "I am constantly reminded of how much I owe to King Minos. He has assuaged his own guilt by assuring that my exile is at least comfortable."
"Do not be so melodramatic," Pasiphae snorted. "You were not exiled. You chose to retire from the Court. Minos was kind. He could have chosen to have you imprisoned… or worse. Tell me Tyro, is your life here really so bad? You live in comfort and are free to come and go as you please."
"And would I have remained so free if I had not chosen to seclude myself? If I had wished to remain in the city?"
"Be grateful that that is a decision that Minos did not have to make," Pasiphae answered. "He is honourable enough that I do not think he would have seen a woman of such high birth thrown to the lions, yet there are many other fates you could have been condemned to that would have been far less pleasant than your current circumstances."
The two women lapsed into silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Presently, Tyro turned to look at her former daughter-in-law with cold eyes.
"I know why you are here Pasiphae," she said. "I still have friends who keep me informed about what is going on. You have lost the city; you have lost Atlantis."
"A temporary setback."
"But setback nevertheless. What would you give, I wonder, to keep your enemies from discovering where you are? I know that Minos is gathering forces to reclaim the city. It would be unfortunate if your enemies were to learn of these plans too soon."
Pasiphae turned to face the older woman, her eyes as hard as granite.
"You dare to threaten us?" She exclaimed incredulously. "Take care Tyro. You are not untouchable. You would be disposed of before any message you could send could reach our enemies. Threaten me or mine again and I will decide your fate for you."
"And now we see the real Pasiphae," Tyro murmured. "The vicious she-wolf." She laughed. "I do not threaten you… I do not have the power or the inclination left to threaten you. I may hate you and your husband for what you did… for what I lost… but I have no love for your enemies either. I remember Anaxandros only too well. I knew him as a boy… and if ever there was a child who should have been drowned at birth, he was it. I still love Atlantis too much to want to see it remain in his hands even if that means that it must be delivered back into yours. I will do nothing to hinder you but I can take no pleasure in your continued presence. The sooner you and Minos leave the better."
"I have no wish to remain here for any longer than I have to," Pasiphae answered. "We will be gone soon enough. While we are here, however, it would befit you to remember that, as this is a royal estate and as I am Queen, I am mistress of this house for the duration of my stay and I will order it as I see fit."
"Oh do not worry." Tyro suddenly sounded infinitely weary. "I will stay out of your way. I will not forget my place. I will not fight you Pasiphae. I have already lost everything that ever truly meant anything to me. Do as you will."
"And what if I could return a little of what you lost?" Pasiphae asked softly.
As she had said to Minos, she had had no intention of telling Tyro about Jason at this stage – yet now that she was here and faced with the woman's unending sorrow she found her resolve weakening. Would it really hurt to tell the old lady that her grandson had survived against all the odds? Tyro was sensible enough (and politically astute enough) that she could surely be made to see that this was a secret that she would have to keep for the time being; that it was in Jason's best interests that he didn't know about his grandmother until the current turmoil was over and they were safely back in Atlantis.
Tyro snorted.
"There is no gift that you could give me that would mean anything to me Pasiphae," she said. "I lost what was left of my family when you and Minos took the throne and nothing can ever bring them back."
"And if I were to tell you that your grandson is alive?" Pasiphae enquired.
Tyro paled.
"You wicked woman," she spat. "You toy with an old woman's grief? Have you no shame?"
"What I say is true," Pasiphae insisted. "I promise you."
"I will not sit here and listen to your lies," Tyro declared, pushing herself up from the bench and turning to leave.
Pasiphae grabbed her wrist and forced her to turn.
"I am many things," she said. "I do not pretend to be virtuous… but in this I do not lie. I will swear on the bronze bull if you desire it. The Oracle is within the temple in the town. She will confirm the truth of my words."
The older lady stared at her for a moment before sinking back down onto the bench.
"How is this possible?" she murmured.
"It would appear that we were all deceived," Pasiphae answered. "Jason was not killed as we had all believed. Instead he was stolen from his cradle and taken far beyond the borders of Atlantis to be raised with no knowledge of who he truly was. He was abandoned there. Some months ago, it would seem that he returned to the city by accident and has been living as a peasant. He was completely unaware of his parentage… of his status. I learned by accident the truth of the matter." Her eyes became soft – distant. "You cannot imagine both how wonderful and terrible the news that my son lived and was so close by was to hear," she added softly.
"Terrible?" Tyro demanded incredulously.
"Indeed," Pasiphae answered. "For I was forced at the time to believe that Jason would never be part of my life or I his. To know he was so near to me and yet to know that I could not even speak with him… that brought me more pain than you could imagine." She paused. "It is a strange twist of fate that has brought him back into my life," she mused. "I will not bore you with the details at this time. Suffice it to say that Jason now knows who he is and has been accepted by the King. His identity has been confirmed by the Oracle. He is indeed my son."
"I would not have thought Minos would have accepted him so readily," Tyro said sharply. "The boy would be a threat after all."
"Jason is no threat," Pasiphae answered. "He has no apparent desire to challenge the King for the throne. Indeed, he seems to see it as his duty to serve Minos and Atlantis in every way possible… and Minos is no fool. He can see the political advantages of having Jason at his side. As yet, however, Jason has given no indication that he is willing to stay with us. That is one of the reasons that his identity is being kept a closely guarded secret – known only to a small and select group. If the boy accepts his place, then it may silence those few malcontents who would still desire to support Aeson once and for all. Minos' only heir is his daughter. Marriage to a son of Atlantis would be far preferable to marriage to an outsider – someone who might seek to exploit the city or subjugate it to become a vassal state of another kingdom… and uniting the bloodlines of the old royal house and the new would heal the last divides in our city."
"I had heard that Minos' daughter has been betrothed to the younger son of Agrias of Tanagra," Tyro replied.
"You seem very well informed," Pasiphae retorted. "Almost suspiciously so."
"The servants like to gossip," Tyro replied.
"Yes," Pasiphae murmured, "and I wonder what else you have learned from them."
"Little enough, I assure you," the old woman answered. "They informed me that you were not in the best of health when you arrived here and that you arrived in the company of the High Priest of Poseidon, the Oracle, several soldiers and a small retinue – a young man of noble birth and his companions."
Pasiphae allowed herself a small knowing smirk – it was obvious that Tyro had not yet put two and two together and had not realised that the 'young man of noble birth' was in fact her own grandson.
"You are no fool," she stated softly. "You were Queen for long enough to understand political necessity. Minos had no choice but to betroth Ariadne to the Tanagran boy. Agrias demanded it as the price for his help… but an engysis may be broken as easily as it is made. There is a long way from a betrothal to the marriage bed and much may happen along the way."
"You intend to defy the will of the Gods and break the agreement?" Tyro demanded. "It will bring dishonour to the King and to the city."
"The Gods' will is unclear," Pasiphae replied. "The Oracle cannot yet clearly see the truth of this matter. Certainly the engysis between Minos' daughter and Agrias' son does not have the blessing of the Gods at this present moment. If the agreement is broken, then it will be done with no dishonour… I will make sure of it. But I will not allow another to stand in my son's place."
The older woman was silent for a moment, looking out across the garden.
"You have given me momentous news," she said, her voice throbbing with a host of emotions. "I do not know… I do not know how to react. Am I to be permitted to see the child?"
"Jason is no longer a child," Pasiphae replied. "He is a grown man… although that is something that I am finding difficult enough to reconcile myself." She cast a sideways look at her former mother-in-law. "He is not here at the moment," she admitted. "King Agrias forced Minos to send him on a mission away from Pagenia. The journey there and back will take at least ten days and he only left yesterday, so it will be some time before he returns."
"And then I will be permitted to see him?"
Pasiphae hesitated.
"I had not intended that you should learn of Jason's existence until after Atlantis is retaken," she admitted. "I have grown to know my son well enough to understand that he will be at the forefront of any battle that is to come and I do not want to risk his mind being clouded by emotion at a time when it might prove potentially fatal to him; do not want to risk his attention being divided. Jason has been unsettled by all the changes that have taken place in his life over the past weeks. I would wish to allow him to settle a little before forcing any more changes upon him."
Tyro closed her eyes against a wave of hurt.
"You will keep me from him then," she said with resigned certainty. "Did you only tell me of his existence to hurt me? To taunt me?"
"I have little time for melodrama," Pasiphae retorted acidly. "Please do not try my patience by indulging in it. I did not intend to tell you of Jason's existence because I had no desire to see you hurt. I know only too well how painful it was to know that Jason had survived and yet to not be allowed to see him… to speak with him. I had intended to spare you that pain. I do not wish to be needlessly cruel."
"Do you want me to beg?" Tyro demanded. "I will. I will humble myself before you and beg if it means you will allow me to see the boy – no matter how much it might gall me to have to ask anything of you."
"You really do hate me don't you?"
"I think I have a right, don't you? You destroyed everything that I cared for. Stripped me of all I loved."
"Perhaps," Pasiphae said softly. "I think you and I understand one another better than most, Tyro." She sighed. "As I have said, I have no desire to hurt you or to be cruel."
"Then you will permit me to see him?"
Pasiphae allowed a faint smile to touch her lips.
"You already have," she answered.
"What do you…" Tyro began with confusion. Then understanding suddenly dawned on her face. "The young man who came into the gynaikonitis on the day your party arrived here… that was Jason?"
"It was. I understand from Minos that Jason had lost his way looking for the dining room and found his way into your private sitting room by accident."
Tyro sat back and closed her eyes.
"Oh dear Gods," she breathed. "I was so close to my own flesh and blood and did not even realise it."
"You had no reason to suspect that the boy was still alive," Pasiphae replied. "None of us did."
"If I had known who he was I would have paid more attention… spoken to him quite differently."
"Then it is as well that you did not know," Pasiphae responded crisply. "I have told you that I do not wish Jason to know who you are to one another at this time and have explained my reasons for this."
"You really will keep him from me then?" Tyro asked.
Pasiphae gave an exasperated sigh.
"If you can guarantee to me that Jason will not learn who you are… that he will not even learn so much as your name… and that you will do nothing to give your identity away to him… that you will, in fact, actively seek to prevent him from learning who you are… then I will find a way for you to see him briefly," she said briskly.
"Thank you," her companion murmured. "If those are the conditions that I have to meet to be able to see my grandson, then I will abide by them."
"Very well," Pasiphae answered firmly. "Then I will make arrangements once Jason has returned to Pagenia." She hesitated for a moment. "You will not need to keep this secret forever, Tyro," she added in a far softer tone. "Once we have reclaimed Atlantis from Anaxandros and our lives have returned to their normal courses, I will make sure that Jason learns who you are. I suspect that when that happens I will not be able to keep him from coming here to meet you properly."
"You would do that for me?"
"I would do it for Jason," Pasiphae replied simply. "He was raised as an orphan – a lonely child from what I have gathered – and the knowledge that he has a family of his own seems to be important to him. I will not prevent him from knowing about you for any longer than is necessary."
She looked up and gauged the time from the position of the sun.
"I have duties to attend to," she stated, pushing herself to her feet. "I must leave you now. We will speak of this again when I have the time."
With that she swept off down a pathway towards the house, leaving her older companion alone with her thoughts.
The woods were still and peaceful in the soft light of dawn. High in the treetops the birds were singing their early morning chorus and small animals scampered through the undergrowth, rustling the fallen leaves and small bushes as they went.
Jason smiled softly to himself as he quietly set about packing up his bed roll and checking his horse's tack, moving as noiselessly as possible to avoid waking his still slumbering friends. In spite of everything that was going on he found himself remarkably at ease this morning – more so than he had felt in weeks. Talking to Hercules last night had definitely helped; his older friend's unquestioning support and the fact that Hercules had not instantly thought that he was going mad had eased Jason's mind more than he would have imagined. The fact that Hercules had made light of the situation in his own inimitable Hercules style had helped too. Jason nearly snorted. Beetle racing! Honestly!
Actually, what on earth had made him think that his friends wouldn't believe him? Jason shook his head ruefully, silently berating himself for his own rank stupidity. After all they had been through together he really should have known better than to doubt them. It was true, he supposed, that he still hadn't spoken to Pythagoras directly, but he could hardly imagine that his gentle friend would react any differently to Hercules – with sincere and wholehearted support and open affection.
The last watch of the night had passed as peacefully for Jason as the earlier watches had passed for his friends. At least the Amphigeneians weren't out this far. So far, it seemed, their activities had been solely confined to capturing and subduing the city of Atlantis and laying siege to Athanos. That was fortunate. It meant that the three of them had been able to make good time yesterday without having to worry about avoiding enemy patrols. Obviously the closer they got to Athanos the more dangerous their journey would become but for now things were going well.
Jason had to admit to himself that it felt good to be back on the road with just his two friends for company too. He was gradually coming to enjoy the company of his stepfather (much to his own amazement) and was growing to love his mother in a way that just a few weeks ago would have seemed impossible, but living with the King and Queen (even in exile) was putting far more pressure on him than he would have imagined. It was a bit like living in a goldfish bowl really – or perhaps under a microscope – with his every word or action being scrutinised. It would only get worse if he chose to stay with them indefinitely and allow the secret of his relationship with Pasiphae to become common knowledge. At least in Pagenia he really only had the scrutiny of his parents to contend with, if he were to do what he knew Pasiphae wanted and take his place as prince he knew the eyes of the full Court would be on him constantly.
Jason shuddered. That didn't really bear thinking about. To know that everyone was watching you; judging you; to never really have a moment's privacy – how did Ariadne do it? Of course, Ariadne had been raised as a princess; had spent her life living in the shadow of other people's expectations; had grown up knowing how to behave in any given social situation; had always lived in the spotlight, so to speak. Jason, on the other hand, had grown up largely in the shadows, at least half forgotten or ignored – and to be honest that was the way he liked it. He'd never been happy on those few occasions when he had been the centre of attention.
No, after the last few weeks Jason definitely had new found respect for Ariadne. He'd always admired her spirit and her poise (when he wasn't staring longingly at her or dreaming of kissing her that was) but he'd never really realised before now just how much effort it must take her to always appear as the perfect princess. Attending the various dinners and feasts with the visiting Kings and local nobility and being forced to make small talk with the terminally boring or sycophantic, all the while minding his manners and trying not to inadvertently offend anyone, had been far more mentally and physically taxing than Jason would have thought possible. It probably didn't help that small talk was most definitely not his strongest point, but even so he had been really impressed with how easily and smoothly Ariadne handled social gatherings. Somehow he couldn't see himself ever being as comfortable in those situations as she seemed to be.
He sighed, resolutely trying to put the beautiful Princess out of his mind. He had promised himself that he wouldn't think about her on this mission; that he would use the time to put distance between them and to reconcile himself fully to her impending engagement and marriage. Thinking about it still made his guts wrench each and every time.
Jason shook himself. He was still supposed to be on watch after all and letting his mind wander was not what he should be doing right now. Actually, now that he thought about it, going and foraging for some breakfast was probably a good idea. They had supplies packed but it was still a three or four day journey to Athanos (depending on how quickly they managed to travel) and there was no guaranteeing that they would be able to replenish those supplies at any point either on the way to the town or on their way back to Pagenia. All it would take would be a hold up of a day or two and their supplies would run short. Picking fruit and berries for breakfast to save them having to dip into their supplies seemed like a sensible idea.
Jason reached into his pack and pulled out a bowl before backing quietly away from the horses and turning back to check on his friends once more. Hercules was still wrapped tightly in his blankets, fast asleep. Pythagoras, on the other hand, was already stirring. With a sleepy blink, he opened his eyes and sat up, yawning and looking around the small clearing. On seeing Jason, he smiled.
"Good morning," he said softly.
"Morning," Jason replied, keeping his voice just as quiet as Pythagoras had. Somehow it seemed wrong to break the peace of the morning by speaking too loudly. "I was just going to go and see if I could find some berries or something for breakfast," he added, gesturing to the bowl in his hand.
Pythagoras nodded his agreement.
"That would seem like a wise move," he said approvingly. "It would seem sensible to preserve our supplies as much as possible." He squinted at Jason. "Just let me get up and I will join you."
Not far from where they had camped for the night they two young men found some low plum trees still bearing fruit. They worked quickly and largely in silence, completely comfortable in each other's company. Soon enough the bowls were largely full. Jason reached out to grab a particularly plump and succulent looking plum. As his fingers brushed the fruit, his eyes grew suddenly distant; face slackening disturbingly and bowl slipping from suddenly nerveless fingers.
Pythagoras was alerted by the clatter as the bowl hit the floor. He turned, ready to tease his friend for his clumsiness and help Jason pick up the fruit he had dropped. The vacant look on his friend's face made the young mathematician stop, instantly worried. He reached out and grabbed hold of Jason's arm, his concern increasing as the other young man failed to react to his touch.
"Jason?" he ventured.
For several long moments he received no reply.
"Jason?" he tried again.
Finally, Jason's eyes snapped back into the present, darting around a little wildly as his breathing sped up. Without Pythagoras' steadying hand on his arm he would have stumbled. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes briefly, before opening them to look at his friend.
"Athanos," he said urgently; breathlessly. "The western ramparts are falling. They're the weak spot. The gate will fall and the Amphigeneians will stream in through it. We can use the chaos to get in… but we don't have much time. We have to hurry."
"Jason, what are you talking about?" Pythagoras murmured patiently. "You are not making any sense and I am afraid that you are unwell. Sit down for a minute."
Jason shook his head.
"We don't have time," he said sharply. "We need to be nearby when the town falls. It's the only chance we have to save Lord Herodion and his family. We have to be there on the night of the full moon. That's when the gate will be breached."
"Three nights from now? How could you possibly know that for certain?" Pythagoras asked.
Jason swallowed hard and closed his eyes.
"I had a chat with Hercules last night," he replied obliquely.
Pythagoras frowned at the apparent non-sequitur. Before he could respond, however, Jason swallowed hard again and opened his eyes – looking earnestly at his friend.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said.
It was late afternoon when the three men finally approached Athanos from the west. The rest of the journey had gone well enough and they had gone unhindered. Reason (and Pythagoras) dictated that they should be cautious though, so they left the horses tethered out of sight in the treeline and crept forwards to the edge of a rocky bluff to try to get some idea of what was happening on the plain below.
Keeping as low as they could to try to avoid being spotted, they lay down on the outcrop and peered down at the town below. It was not a reassuring sight. Laid out before them, the Amphigeneian army (or at least part of it) had clearly been bombarding Athanos for days. Parts of the wall lay in rubble and enemy soldiers attempted to capitalise on the breaches, climbing the piles of stone to try to pour in through the gaps in the walls only to be thrown back by the men still defending the walls. Flames flickered through a tower on the nearest corner of the walls and smoke rose from a dozen other places, rising high into the sky and wreathing above the town. Athanos was burning.
"You were right," Pythagoras murmured. "The western ramparts are the weak spot. Look, the gate has nearly gone." He pointed towards the town.
His two friends peered down at Athanos and at the sheer number of soldiers attacking it.
"There must be hundreds of them," Jason breathed quietly.
"Thousands," Pythagoras agreed.
"And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos is the man we've been sent to find and his family," Hercules muttered.
"I would say our chances of success are slim to non-existent," Pythagoras added.
"Really?" Hercules asked sarcastically. "That high?" He turned to look at Jason. "It's never too late to turn back," he said. "I don't suppose you'd let us talk you out of this?"
"I made a promise," Jason answered. He looked back down at the town again. "It won't be long until that gate falls completely," he noted, "and then the Amphigeneians will be in the town."
"No," Pythagoras replied. "I would not imagine it would be long at all." He glanced at his dark haired friend. "It would appear that your vision was correct," he said. "Tonight is the night of the full moon and the gate will be breached."
Jason swallowed hard and nodded, still more than a little freaked out by the whole thing.
"We wait for dark," he replied softly. "The Amphigeneians should be fully in the town by then. If we ride in hard and come from out of the darkness, we should be able to get straight through. It's going to be chaos down there. We should be able to use that. They're certainly not going to be expecting to see three men entering the town rather than fleeing from it."
"No sane man would be trying to get into the town," Hercules groused.
Jason ignored his large friend's grumbling.
"What then?" Pythagoras asked.
"Then we do what we came to do," Jason answered. "King Minos made sure I knew where Lord Herodion's house is, so we head straight there, gather up him and his family, and leave the way we came. Hopefully they'll have horses of their own but if not we'll have to double up until we get back out of the town. With luck we'll be in and out of Athanos quickly enough that no-one will even know we've been there."
"I'm hearing a lot of 'hopefullys' and 'with lucks' in there," Hercules grumbled. "What happens if luck isn't on our side?"
"I think we just have to pray it will be," Pythagoras murmured.
From the balcony adjoining the small room he used as a study, Lord Herodion watched the clouds of smoke billowing up over Athanos with ever growing gloom. Surely the town could not hold out for much longer? He had popped outside for a breath of fresh air but the sound of distant battle from the town walls had distracted him, leading his thoughts down dark paths.
With hindsight he should have packed up his family and left Athanos when the news first filtered through that the city of Atlantis had fallen. Given that the town was the second largest settlement in the country it was perhaps obvious that this would be the next target.
Herodion had known that from the start – which was why he had sent the servants away days ago; urging them to seek out places of safety away from the advancing Amphigeneian army. He grimaced. His wife had been less than pleased at that particular development since there was no-one left to look after the family.
No, it had been foolish to linger here. If the mighty city of Atlantis had fallen to the enemy, then there was no way that Athanos could stand. Still, Athanos had been Herodion's home for many long years and he had no real wish to abandon it. There had always been the possibility that the Amphigeneians would turn aside before they reached the town. Ianthe, Herodion's wife, had grown increasingly anxious at the thought of leaving their home and all their belongings behind and had vocally urged her husband to stay – very vocally, Herodion recalled.
By the time it had been completely obvious that the town would be attacked, it had been too late to leave – and now here they were, trapped like rats. Herodion sighed gloomily. He had packed three sets of saddlebags with their most precious and portable possessions, along with essential supplies for a journey, and had made sure that their horses were ready to go at a moment's notice, but it seemed highly unlikely they would get the chance to leave now. Even if they could leave, where would they go? Atlantis had fallen; his old friend the King was most likely dead. Sooner or later it seemed likely that the Amphigeneians would move to subdue every town in the kingdom.
Herodion sighed. Nightfall was not far away, and nor, he suspected, was the end for Athanos.
"Ariadne."
Prince Chalcon's voice carried down the length of the corridor to where the Princess was walking. Ariadne resisted the urge to groan. The Tanagran Prince seemed like a nice enough young man and over the past few days she had found herself growing to like him more and more, but she had hoped to have a little time to herself – she seemed to get so little of it these days. Still, propriety dictated that she should greet her husband to be and not simply pretend that she hadn't heard him – tempting though that thought might be.
She turned with a gracious smile plastered in place.
"My Lord," she replied.
Chalcon strode up the corridor to join her.
"I thought we had agreed to dispense with titles," he chided gently.
"In private, yes, but a corridor where anyone might be walking is hardly a private place," Ariadne answered. "I think there are those who would be shocked and upset that I did not show you due respect by using your title… your father for instance. They would think it was improper."
"Hang propriety," Chalcon said firmly. "The engysis has been made and we are to be married… whether we want to be or not."
"But we are not married yet," Ariadne replied. "Besides even Queen Pasiphae refers to my father, the King, as 'My Lord'… especially in places where they might be observed. It is the way of things." She placed one gentle hand on the young man's arm. "But come," she said, "I don't think you called out to me to discuss titles or propriety."
"No," Chalcon admitted. "I had thought to seek an audience with you earlier but I was told you were unavailable."
"I was undertaking my duties at the temple," Ariadne stated. "I am still Poseidon's servant after all."
"Of course," the young man murmured.
"I am only just now returning," Ariadne continued. She sighed. "I hope the Gods will look favourably upon me and those I love."
"How could they not?" Chalcon asked smoothly. "In the face of such grace and beauty surely even the Gods must relent."
"You are very kind," Ariadne replied.
"I speak as I find," the young man answered, raising her hand to his lips. "Where were you going to? Perhaps I might be permitted to walk along with you?"
"There is a window. It looks out over the town, and beyond that the sea. It is my favourite view in this house. It is in a small sitting room that is only really used in the evening and few people seem to have noticed the view by day. I go there when I wish for solitude. It is a little out of the way and I am less likely to be disturbed there. I find I am granted little peace and quiet otherwise."
They had begun to walk once more as they spoke. Now Chalcon stopped and sighed.
"You wished to be alone and I am intruding. Forgive me. I will leave you to find peace."
Ariadne turned towards him.
"No," she replied. "I do not mind your company so very much… and as you said when we first met, it would seem sensible for us to get to know one another. Please, walk with me."
They set off again, Ariadne's hand resting lightly on the Tanagran Prince's arm.
"Sometimes the burden of royal blood seems a heavy one to bear," the young man said softly as they walked. "I know how privileged my position is as son of the King of Tanagra and yet my life is not my own. Like you, there are times when I wish only for a little peace and solitude to gather my thoughts. I am aware of how precious those moments of quiet are in a life when I am surrounded by people and where the burden of duty has been hammered into me from my earliest days. We are alike, I think. We both understand that our position is a responsibility as well as a privilege; that we have a duty to our people."
"There are remarkably few who understand that," Ariadne answered. "Even amongst those of royal blood."
She let Chalcon's arm go and pushed open the door in front of her, stepping lightly across the room and stopping before a window.
"This is my favourite place in this house," she said.
"I can see why," Chalcon replied, coming to stand behind her and resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. "It is very beautiful… as are you." He hesitated. "Ariadne," he went on. "Our union will be of benefit to both our kingdoms… but I want you to be happy. I hope that one day you will be able to look at me in a favourable light."
Ariadne turned and offered him a gentle smile.
"You have been nothing but kindness. How could I look at you in any light that is less than favourable?"
"Yes, but friendship is not love," Chalcon answered. "I hope that one day you might come to love me."
Ariadne turned away, forcing herself to swallow down the lump that had risen unbidden in her throat as a pair of warm hazel eyes sprang into her mind.
"Ah," Chalcon said sadly. "I see."
"You see what?" Ariadne asked.
"That your heart already belongs to another," the young Prince answered with a soft sigh.
"I do not know what you mean," Ariadne protested quietly.
"Yes you do," Chalcon replied. "And I am sorry. To be forced to marry when your feelings are already attached elsewhere must be difficult."
"I have always known that my husband would be selected for me," Ariadne responded. "Besides, I have not said that I have feelings for anyone else."
"You didn't need to say it. I could see it on your face and in your eyes when I spoke of love. He is worthy of you? The man who has claimed your heart?"
"I think so, yes… but it can never be."
"I am sorry," Chalcon said simply. "Might I know my rival's name?"
"It doesn't matter," Ariadne answered. "I cannot marry him. I had resolved to put him from my mind. I agreed to the engysis when my father first approached me about it… and I mean no disrespect to you. You and I are betrothed and that is all there is to say on the matter."
Prince Chalcon looked out at the view from the window, his eyes distant. He was clearly choosing his next words with some care.
"Perhaps," he began, "you might find that your affection for this other man may wane with time and you may learn to transfer that affection… and dare I say love… to another… to me."
"Perhaps," Ariadne acknowledged. "I will try to do my duty to my city… and to you."
"I have been too forwards," the young man berated himself. "I do not wish to rush you or to make you uncomfortable. I meant what I said. I truly do want you to be happy. Our betrothal is one more move in my father's game. I know it is not a love match. All I ask for now is that you allow me to be your friend in the days to come… and that I be allowed to hope that one day you might feel more than distant friendship for me."
"I have had so few true friends," Ariadne murmured, half to herself. "It's hard for me to know who to trust."
Chalcon gently turned her to face him and took her hand in his own.
"You can trust me," he said earnestly, sincerity brimming in his blue eyes. "I will do everything in my power not to let you down."
Night had fallen quickly over Athanos. The western gate of the town had finally fallen at dusk and the Amphigeneian forces had swarmed into the city like locusts, killing the men of the town indiscriminately. The women, on the other hand, were dragged away by the soldiers, either into or behind buildings. Most of them did not return.
At the edge of the plain before the town, Jason waited with Hercules for Pythagoras to re-join them. They had taken the decision earlier to hide their bags and supplies so that they could travel quicker across the plain. The young genius had volunteered to hide everything in a small ravine they had found.
Finally together and all ready, they set out across the plain. At first they moved slowly and quietly, on the alert for any enemy sentries – still hoping to make it into Athanos unseen. As they got closer to the shattered gateway they picked up speed, trying to use the element of surprise to get them through the enemy lines before anyone could realise they were not Amphigeneian officers and react accordingly. It was a wild and reckless plan to be honest, but it had been the only one they could come up with. Amazingly it worked and they galloped through the gate of the town with no more than a token shout behind them to ask them to identify themselves.
The situation in the town was desperate for the citizens. Everywhere you looked there were bodies. On the far side of a square, an Amphigeneian officer, his lips drawn back in a feral snarl of triumph, plunged his sword into the prone body of an unarmed man; an Atlantian soldier, marked out by his blue cloak, but weapon less. Jason forced himself to ignore what was going on around him, even though his fingers itched to draw his sword and fight. They had a mission to complete after all.
"Come on," he snarled, trying to keep a grip on himself. "Lord Herodion's house is this way."
Behind him, Hercules couldn't help rolling his eyes at Pythagoras in spite of the dangerous situation they were in.
The house they were aiming for was near the centre of town on the main street that crossed from north to south; the Sacred Way that seemed to be a characteristic of all Atlantian towns. For now their luck was holding and the street was deserted. The horses had been left, safely tethered, in an alleyway near the western gate and all they could hope was that the beasts would remain undiscovered until they returned to fetch them.
The sounds of battle were everywhere; coming closer and then ebbing away again; the sound of fires crackling; of metal swords clashing together; of men roaring and women screaming. As they approached the front of the house, an Amphigeneian soldier appeared in front of Jason. He raised his sword to strike at the young man. Before the Amphigeneian could strike down, however, Jason reacted, bringing his own sword up from his side and stabbing it into his enemy's stomach. Pulling it free, he turned to his friends.
"Let's get inside," he said.
As he had expected, the door to the house was locked but swiftly sprang open when he put his shoulder to it. Jason darted inside, his friends hard on his heels, only to skid to an abrupt stop just before he impaled himself on an outstretched sword. He looked down at the tip, resting firmly against his chest, and at the unwavering hand holding the weapon, and then up into a pair of steely grey eyes staring back at him.
