Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

Elpis’ voice was unsteady. “Your sisters await you.”

Medusa drew in a deep breath. “Help me change, then. The sooner I appease them, the sooner we may put any unpleasantness behind us.” She attempted cheerfulness as she added, “I do hope they will behave this time.”

Her sisters excelled at mischief. She had fond memories of them from her early childhood, teasing and goading one another to make her laugh. She’d been a favored toy, each trying to outdo the other to gain her giggling attention.

Things were different now.

She sighed and pulled her long hair over her shoulder. Elpis removed the white wool tunic that swept the floor and covered every inch of her skin.

Medusa wore her robes with pride, for they marked her as Athena’s chosen within the temple. Every stitch and symbol was in celebration of the Goddess of Wisdom. Finely embroidered lavender orchids and white asphodel celebrated Greece. Copper and gold thread owls and serpents were symbols of wisdom. Green, black and brown olives were woven throughout, honoring Athena’s gift of olives to the Athenians.

Away from the temple she could wear the simple peplos worn by other women. Her slender arms were free of fabric and her feet bare. Her neck delighted in the kiss of the air, the caress of the sun’s warmth on her exposed skin. It was a kind of freedom, simple yet luxurious. And freedom was something she rarely enjoyed under the watchful gaze of her uncle, or someone he judged worthy.

Uncle Galenus believed as Athena, that men were easily tempted. He looked upon Medusa as too great a temptation for any man. As a result, only eunuchs, or those too aged to cause alarm, worked inside the house. The small contingent of troops that resided on his grounds was there because Athena demanded it.

Aunt Xenia had argued that, as Athena’s soldiers, these men were able to set aside their manly passions in service to their Goddess.

“They are men, wife. And as such, they can be tempted,” Uncle Galenus had replied. “I tolerate their presence, at a distance, for it is Athena’s will. But if these soldiers do not abide by the order of Athena they will be punished. I will see to it myself.”

Uncle Galenus preferred castration over death. He believed the loss of a whole servant was a far greater punishment to a slave’s master than losing a small part. It was a relief to Medusa that neither punishment had ever been carried out. At least, not that she knew of.

Elpis used large bronze disks to clasp the lightweight, creamy peplos at each of her shoulders, draping the extra fabric in a becoming fashion. Medusa laced the leather cuff over her forearm to protect her skin from Thea’s talons. Once secure, she sat so Elpis could dress her hair.

“There is no other maid in all of Greece with hair as thick or as soft. And such a beautiful color, like rich honey.” Elpis laced a coil of bronze thread through Medusa’s braid. “You’re too lovely to stay in the temple, mistress,” Elpis sighed, standing back to admire her.

“You begin to sound like my parents.” Medusa smiled at her companion. “It is enough, I think, to live in Athena’s good graces. If I am lovely, then surely that is pleasing for the Goddess.”

“Then Athena is greatly pleased, mistress.”

“You are a sweet soul.” Medusa hugged Elpis.

Thea cooed at Medusa’s tone, her fine feathered chest reverberating with the sound.

“Come then, Thea.” Medusa held her arm out, offering it as perch. “You can protect me this night.”

Elpis’ face was distraught. “How can you jest? Knowing who waits for you and, likely, what news they bring?”

“Fear not, Elpis. Let me hear their wishes so that I may return to the peace of my chamber. I’ll no doubt have need of your compliments and comfort then.”

“You are brave, mistress.”

“Before the moon is high this will be but an unpleasant memory.” She squeezed Elpis’ arm, hoping to reassure them both. She smiled at her companion again and swept from her room and down the hall.

A knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach, but she would not burden Elpis. Athena would chide her for succumbing to distress, yet Medusa could not dismiss the churning anxiety. Her father was a temperamental sort, impatient and hot-headed. Word from him meant change. Or grief.

Perhaps this time would be different? She prayed so.

She let her gaze roam Galenus’ house, her home since childhood. Built about an interior courtyard, she thought the house well appointed. Arched windows lined the entire exterior wall, affording a view of her uncle’s vast property. The full moon illuminated carefully tended fields and a gated herb garden. Beyond lay Xenia’s bountiful olive grove. Years of deliberate devotion to the land and the Gods had made Galenus a man of substantial wealth. And yet, Galenus valued his home, his oikos, and his position in Athens’ society above all.

Thea cackled, ruffling her wings.

“Go on, Thea. It’s a fine night for hunting.” Medusa held her arm up, meeting the animal’s eyes with a smile. “Come back to me when you’re done.”

Thea blinked at her once before releasing her hold and flying into the darkness.

Medusa lingered, enjoying the soothing peace o

f evening before it was taken from her.