Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

But, as Ektor’s mount leapt forward, Ariston looked back and raised a hand to them.

Medusa’s hand gripped hers, crushing her hand. “Hold me, Elpis, so I will not beg him to stay. Help me not shame myself,” her voice trembled.

Elpis saw her lady smile, waving after the fading form of her husband.

Once he was gone, she pulled her mistress close and let her sob until she had no more tears.

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Medusa sat behind Elpis on Ariston’s horse. In one hand she clutched the missive Ariston had sent to them on their slow trek back to the Temple of Athena Polias. He had not tarried, but immediately made the arrangements needed to send her and her companion to his home on the far isle of Rhodes. A messenger had delivered the note, along with Ariston’s horse, to them. Elpis was to give this missive to the courier who would come to fetch their belongings. Once they’d departed, Galenus would have Ariston’s mount as part of the bride price.

Thea circled overhead, hooting in the darkening sky.

Galenus would have word by now. Elpis had delivered it before she’d left to collect Medusa from the cabin.

Her uncle would bluster and rail, but then he would see reason. She prayed he would. Arist

on was a good man. Her new husband’s gifts had been more than generous. Surely Galenus, a practical man, would see that. If Poseidon would not have her and Athena was finished with her, then her marriage was a very good match – even if it did take her to Rhodes.

Rhodes.

A tiny island leagues across the sea. To a family that she knew nothing of – though Ariston assured her they would love her dearly. He’d sent a dispatch to them so they would know of his marriage and her arrival.

Sunset was upon them as the horse stopped at the base of the temple steps. Medusa looked up, admiring its loveliness.

Her gaze swept the top step. A half dozen well-armed guards stood ready to defend Athena’s temple if the Persians reached Athens’ soil.

She slipped from the saddle. “Hurry back, Elpis,” she whispered. Elpis’ hand squeezed hers.

“May Athena’s gift give you some solace, mistress,” Elpis said.

Thea hooted and Medusa held her arm out, smiling as the owl landed gracefully on her leather cuff. Her little pet was mindful of her mistress’ well-being, and her slight presence lifted Medusa’s spirits.

She touched the charm at her neck.

She hurried up the steps, thankful for the soft chlamys Elpis had brought for her. The wind on the Acropolis blew cold compared to the warmer breeze of the beach.

Once of the soldiers appraised her through narrowed eyes. He smiled slightly, his gaze lingering on her face. She did not like the way the man looked at her. She missed the cover of her robes, the shield of her veils.

Medusa pulled the hood of the chlamys up, shielding her face from his prying eyes as she entered the temple.

Something was not right. Why were no tapers lit? Where was Athena’s priestess? Her unease grew stronger.

Athena stood, staring out over the sea. Her posture was rigid as she held her golden shield at the ready. Perhaps Athena had sent her priestess away? This war troubled the Goddess, too, then.

“Athena?”

Athena turned to her. “You’ve come, little one.”

Medusa knelt before her Goddess. “I have.”

Athena’s voice was soft, “You have never failed me. You are a dutiful sort.”

A queer anxiousness ran down the length of Medusa’s spine.

Athena studied her, open curiosity in her round brown eyes. “Do you know what gift has been bestowed upon you?”

“I do not, Goddess.” She tried to smile again, but could not quite manage it.