Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

His absence, coupled with the constant correspondence from her parents, plucked at the edges of her patience. Yet she prayed, knowing the Gods would hear her and champion her as they saw fit. Her faith was strong.

Anestheria came upon the city and surrounding countryside with noise, drink, and people. As Athens filled with revelers, Medusa watched from the safety and distance of the temple. She would stay at the temple through the festivities. Anestheria was not one of Athena’s celebrations. The three-day festival celebrated Dionysus, The Lord of the Vine in this, the Festival of the Vine Flowers. And while reason and wisdom had little to do with drink, Athena received numerous offerings and tributes just the same.

On this, the first day, Pithoigia, spirits were high. On Pithoigia, jugs of new wine were opened and shared between servants and their masters. All was done in leisurely fashion, encouraging camaraderie.

On the morrow, drinking the wine became sport. Drunken crowds grew unruly and the festivities less restrained. Every maiden in Athens was locked away or carefully guarded. Innocence, a revered virtue, might be stolen by those lost to the drink.

Medusa lit her lamp and knelt to arrange Athena’s gifts so that more could be added in the morning. Athena was certain to be pleased.

Her arms trembled as she hefted a large basket of apples. She’d felt weakness more than once recently, but she had no appetite and sleep would not find her. She ran a shaky hand over her face, thankful she was kneeling as dizziness swept through her.

“Mistress,” Elpis said softly.

Medusa attempted a smile. “I’m fine,” she reassured her companion. “Help me up?”

Elpis rushed to her side, slipping her arm around Medusa for support.

“You must eat,” Elpis chided her.

“I will later,” Medusa promised.

Someone stood, waiting in the shadows beyond the antechamber. Medusa turned, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make out who was there.

“Lady,” Ariston’s deep voice reverberated off the temple walls.

Medusa froze, her heart and lungs convulsing with pleasure.

He’d come back.

It struck her, almost physically, how her mind and body were buoyed by his presence. She clung to Elpis, her hands tightening upon her companion as she sought to stand her ground.

He stepped forward, bowing low before her. Then he stood, staring. How she’d missed his face, his steady eyes upon her…as they were now. How she’d missed the sound of his voice, calling her ‘Lady’.

She stilled the smile that threatened to spread across her face, meeting his gaze with barely suppressed delight.

Elpis squeezed her hands in warning. Medusa stiffened, but understood.

“Your soldier returned to watch over you through the Festival,” Elpis said lightly, “in time for Choes on the morrow when we will need him most. A wise gift from your Goddess, I think?”

Medusa inclined her head in acknowledgement, releasing Elpis as she did so. “Indeed. Welcome.” She said no more, but turned back to the altar before her pleasure revealed itself.

She clenched her trembling hands, pressing them against her sides. She would need to be strong, to fight the pleading of her overflowing heart.

###

Ariston watched her. He suspected his helmet did little to disguise the longing and pleasure on his face, but he cared not.

His lungs burned, still shuddering from the pace he’d set to reach the temple. Once he’d been free to return to her, he’d run. He’d raced from the shore to Galenus’ home. But she was not there, having already stationed herself in the temple for Anestheria. Shifting his doru and shield, he’d set off again, sprinting up the hill to find her.

He’d not known Elpis watched him as he scaled the hill, for he ran as if his life depended on it. She had greeted him with a disapproving frown and a deep sigh.

“You betray too much, soldier,” she’d chided him.

His eyes closed at the young woman’s words. He shuttered his face, but could not control his excitement. He’d followed Elpis beyond the antechamber and into the white walls of Athena’s temple.

His breathing slowed as he watched his lady from beneath his helmet. After two long weeks of readying Athens’ ships, two weeks of training hoplites with doru and shield, knife and sword, he should have been exhausted. Yet seeing her soothed the soreness of his muscles and the fatigue of his soul. And for the first time in a fortnight, his heart didn’t ache.

When Elpis had helped her stand, he’d fought the desire to do the same.