She glanced about, her eyes scouring the darkness. “I can. But you will think I am mad, as the others do. But I am not, I assure you.” She met his gaze. “The Gods have cursed us, Ariston. They cursed my home and my family.”
Ariston swallowed, uncertain which was greater – his irritation or his apprehension. “What curse do you speak of?”
She shook her head, her words coming out in a rapid flow. “I know only what I saw. Whether at Medusa’s hands or those of her Gorgon sisters, the Gods have unleashed something terrible upon those sisters.” She swallowed. “Medusa, so lost in her grief, went to Athena against all counsel. You know this?” She waited until he nodded. “Her sisters were readying to leave, to take her to their father, or I’m certain they would have prevented her. But then the alarm was issued and the house fell into chaos….” Her eyes traveled over Ariston’s face. Tears filled her eyes and she reached out to him.
He felt her sadness and took her hand in his.
“She loved you dearly…poor child.” She broke off. “Her sisters found her under the olive trees. She was so broken. Blood flowed freely from the ragged gash in her head… She was pale and shivered so violently…” Xenia’s eyes narrowed and she grew thoughtful, shaking her head. “There was more to it. Her head…”
“Her wound?” His voice was pinched as he forced the words around the lump in his throat.
Xenia nodded. “Euryale carried her past me. I saw the extent of her wound. She could not survive, Ariston.” She squeezed his hand.
“And Galenus?”
“Was bellowing for Nikolaos, as was his way. I sent him to tend Medusa and went to find the old man. I found him, the old fool, under the trees. As I drew closer…I saw what was left.” She leaned closer to him and whispered, “It was as if Zeus had struck him from Olympus, catching him up and casting him in slate. He was rock… But it was old Nikolaos. And there was fear on his grey face.” Her voice hitched. “I ran to Galenus, but I was…I was too late. He stood as frozen and grey as the old man, just inside Medusa’s chamber.” Her hands covered her face and she drew in great gasps of air. She spoke through her hands. “Then I saw it, I saw it. An asp… It stared at me with red eyes… It stared at me from Medusa’s shoulder.” She shivered and began to rock back and forth.
Ariston had no response for this.
“I cried out – how could I not? I did not listen as I was greatly distracted… Euryale said something about a curse from the Gods. They would go, taking the curse with them, far from Athens. Stheno said they would take Medusa’s body home to her parents for the funeral rites.” Xenia continued to rock.
“Where did they take her, Xenia? Where would I find Phorcys?”
Xenia shook her head, “You cannot follow. You cannot. Ariston, she would not want you to follow her. Your lady is gone… What you know to be your lady…she is gone from this world.”
Ariston said nothing more, but remained at Xenia’s side.
As they drew close to the docks of Athens, he helped her climb onto the deck and gave her into Elpis’ care.
“I will take her to her father’s house in Athens,” Elpis murmured. “I fear what fits visiting Galenus’ home might cause.”
Ariston nodded. “I will go to his home. If I find any of her things, I will send them to her.”
Elpis nodded. “Thank you. And…and you? What will you do?”
Ariston looked at her. “I will find my Medusa.”
Elpis met his gaze, then answered, “I bid you safe travels, my lord. And pray you find peace along the way.”
Ariston nodded. “I will, Elpis.”
Chapter Twelve
As soon as the ship touched the dock, Ariston found a mount and headed towards the Acropolis. The path was crowded, for soldiers and citizens alike worked to clear the way. He rode around them, refusing to be distracted from his purpose.
Toppled columns, fractured marble and pools of melted wax marked the site of the once regal Temple of Athena Polias. It saddened him, to see such ruination. He’d served Athena since he was a youth, her temple on Rhodes the finest on the island. And while he no longer felt devotion to the Goddess, the destruction of such a holy place still galled him.
Likely Athena would rebuild her temple, with more grandeur. She would be quick to send a message: She – and Olympus – could not be defeated. Those who challenged them or gave anything less than complete obedience would pay dearly. Ariston bit back a bitter laugh. He knew this lesson.
The Persians should be fearful indeed.
His eyes searched the site, grieved by what he found. Not for Athena, but for Athenians – they looked here, high on Acropolis, when they felt fear, or need, or joy. Seeing the temple appeased them and lifted their burdens, for the Goddess was close and – surely – she would hear them.
“This wall next.” Ariston heard Ektor’s voice and followed it.
Ektor stood, his arms and chest blackened with soot, giving orders with confidence. He had changed, to Ariston’s eyes. In place of the eager youth he’d left stood a man.