Dangerous Secrets (104 page)

The harpy’s cry took me back there, more
vividly than any memory or dream ever had.

My mouth was dry and my limbs as heavy as
though I’d fought all day and all night against an unconquerable foe. I could
see my enemies around me, thick as flies settling on a wound. Through their
insubstantial bodies as through a thin curtain, I saw the harpy wheeling
overhead.

She gave one powerful stroke of her wings,
folded them against her body and dove with appalling speed directly toward us.
As she came, she swung around so that her claws were leading. Her scream
blended with Omphale’s.

I had just enough wit to throw myself flat,
knocking Omphale over with a thrown-out arm as I went. The sword went flying
away. If I’d been standing, still dumbstruck, the harpy’s claws would have
parted my hair. I was never so glad to have it short.

The harpy had to continue on in order to turn
about, wings churning the air. I scooped up the girl, over my shoulder, and
raced on toward the trees. At least there the harpy wouldn’t have a clear run.

Omphale twisted around to talk to me from the
level of my belt. Her head bounced, her hair flying over her face. “Stop. Put
me down. I can run better than you.”

Then the harpy descended again. This time, I
fell backwards, as the wind of her passing blew over me. Omphale grunted as she
came down on her tailbone, jarring her hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.
Despite that, she was on her feet faster than I was.

The girl took off, sprinting like Atalanta, her
skirt kirtled up to her knees. I staggered after her, stubbing my toes and
bruising my insteps. Why had the harpy changed from being benign, even tame,
while I was fighting the snake to vicious now? Could there be two?

Another scream, filled with a kind of aching
rage, shattered the sky. It seemed to go by me like a hot wind, scouring but
not flaying.

I saw it hit Omphale like a blow from a giant
hand. She stopped and swayed. She half-turned toward me, her face slack as a
horror-dream took hold of her mind. Her expression did not change as the harpy
banked to make another run. She stood, looking up as the harpy passed me and
came straight for her.

The scream changed to one of triumph. I pelted
full out toward the girl, wishing I were smaller and more fleet for my strength
was useless if I could not get there before the flying death over my shoulder.

I threw my arms around Omphale and braced
myself against the pain of talons in my back. It didn’t come. I didn’t see what
happened, exactly, but all of a sudden the harpy was tumbling, head over
tail-feathers, into the ground beyond us.

Omphale came back to herself with a deep
shudder. “I saw my mother...she died in childbirth. I saw her split and
bleeding...only it was me. It was me.”

“Go into the trees,” I said. “You’ll be safer
there.”

She stumbled, still half in a nightmare trance,
as I turned her around and gave her a little push in the right direction. The
harpy was hardly a dozen feet away but Omphale seemed hardly to notice.

The harpy hissed at her, sticking out neck and
tongue. She stood up, shaking out the brass-bright feathers on her wide-spread
wings. On the ground, as I’d seen yesterday, she could move smoothly but not
swiftly. I stood between her and Omphale. The creature settled back onto her
haunches, watching us closely with her large eyes, somewhere between human and
bird. It seemed quiet for the moment.

Omphale stopped, with her hands pressed over
her eyes. Realizing she was in no condition to be alone, I led her deeper into
the woods until we were hidden by the trees from the open sky. Then I took her
by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. “You’re all right,” I said.

“It attacked us. Why aren’t we dead?”

“A good question. Would you wait here?”

She nodded. “I’m fine. I won’t faint or do
anything stupid. I’ll just sit here for few minutes.”

She sat heavily on a fallen trunk. In a moment,
she looked up and smiled warmly if wearily. If it hadn’t been for my prior
commitment to Minthe, I might have been tempted to sue for Omphale’s hand. I’d
hardly ever heard of a woman outside of legend who could stand up like this to
such harsh events, let alone a slip of a girl.

My heart, however, belonged entirely to the
girl I’d seen for but a moment in the agora. No one ever said the dictates of
Aphrodite make sense. One can only obey blindly.

I watched the harpy from the safety of the
screening trees. Though I was sure she couldn’t see me, she stared into the
leafy trees as if she could.

Somehow, I’d forgotten how dangerous she was,
having been distracted by the beauty of her feathers and the curious delicacy
of her face. I’d almost decided, after yesterday, that her reputation had been
built more on fearsome appearance than any actual action. Yet now, she’d
attacked a human being.

At the same time, I wondered why she hadn’t
killed me. She could have ripped me to shreds in that last rush but she must
have swerved at the last instant, crashing rather than striking.

When I walked out into the clearing, she
straightened up, cooing softly. She lifted her wings, high and wide. Her cooing
became almost a song.

I walked over and knelt down beside her.
Reaching out, I wanted to stroke the shining feathers but didn’t want to lose
any fingers. I touched her cheek instead. Her skin was smooth as a child’s and
her eyes glistened as if with tears. She crossed her wings over her face, her
shoulders trembling.

Accounting for the difference in species, she
looked just as Omphale had. But how was I to encourage a depressed harpy?
Shaking her would probably be the worst possible move if I wanted to keep those
fingers.

“Poor thing,” I said.

Her eyes peeped at me over the curve of her
wing. I smiled reassuringly, figuring the tone of my voice and expression would
reach her as it would any animal. I only wished I had a little food. Even the
toughest warriors always wanted to offer food to wild animals, perhaps to
propitiate animal spirits, or just because humans like to think wild creatures
need us somehow.

I added, fatuously, “Who’s a pretty harpy,
then?”

The last time I’d seen an expression like that
on a female face was when I’d offered a fully certified courtesan half-price
during my first visit to a large town. It wasn′t the money so much as the
truly execrable poetry I’d composed to accompany the cash.

I could have sworn she rolled her eyes. Then,
as Omphale called my name, the harpy hissed again. She glanced at me once final
time then, with a massive beat of her wings, she lifted into the sky again. I
could hear her cry echoing across the blue and a sadness settled on my heart.
Omphale came a few steps nearer. “What in the name of Aphrodite was that all
about?”

Chapter 10

As much as I respected Omphale, I couldn’t
expect her to keep the story of such a wonder to herself. A tale like that
would be her password into the bosom of the palace’s servants. It would grow in
the telling.

I reported to King Temas that his rebel guard
problem was over. The lads I’d sent back had appeared, chastened, to confess
that they’d been weak and foolish. Temas, a boy himself, had taken their youth
into consideration and welcomed them into his home once more. He offered me the
job of guard captain. I didn’t show how little the job appealed.

“You’re kind, sire, but I have one more task to
perform for you first.”

“The harpy.”

“Yes. I believe I will be able to end that
burden for you tomorrow.”

“It was indeed a great day for Leros when
Phandros found you in Piraeus.” He poured me a cup of wine. “Shall we drink to
your success?”

I noticed that Phandros was watering his wine a
little more than half-and-half. He looked pale yellow and his hands shook
whenever he released their clasp, one upon the other. He also seemed to have
misplaced his appetite. I’ve never been one to drink to excess but I knew the
signs of someone trying to give it up all together.

After the servant girls had served the noon
meal, the king dismissed them. He leaned forward across the table and said in a
confidential undertone, “Who is the girl you’ve brought into my household?”

“A brave young woman from a small village. Her
father is Demos, the smith.”

“Have you any...er...claim on her?”

I hid a smile in my cup. I had been right to
bring her. “On the contrary, she has a claim on me.”

“Oh?” he said, his expression somber.

“She saved my life, near enough.”

I told the tale, giving Omphale a greater part
and maximizing the veniality and stupidity of the late Vanni. By doing so, I
made Pacci almost disappear from the story. No king wants a brother-in-law that
weak.

“And what about Eurytos? I confess I never
thought to see you come back alive, let alone unharmed.”

“Oh, I have a few bruises and scrapes, sire.”

I skimmed over the details of Eurytos’
destruction. The king did not need to hear all that had happened nor to know
how close everyone on Leros came to being the first step on a road to the end
of the world. I did reassure him that none of his accomplices had escaped,
describing the avalanches I had caused.

Temas took a drink. “Destroyed all in one go!
Marvelous! How ever did you think of it?”

“Rock-slides aren’t uncommon on the mountain
roads where I come from. It is an easy matter to cause deliberately what
happens so often naturally.”

“Amazing shooting. Though I could have wished
to keep my little rock fortress. It was discovered by some wandering shepherds
many generations ago and was always our last resort if invaders ever came. The
caves can store much food and water, not to mention people.”

“You must warn the citizens not to venture
there,” Phandros said. He’d been quiet during my recital, not joining in the
king’s expressions of dismay or glee. “It could be most dangerous, what with
unquiet spirits of traitors floating about. There may even be rumors of
treasure which is even more dangerous. We mustn’t let foolish children go
exploring.”

“Spread a rumor or two about ghostly
appearances,” Temas ordered. “That will be more effective than any
proclamation.”

“Very wise, sire.”

It was, too, though I was surprised by Temas’
quick understanding of how to mold his citizenry’s opinions. He was growing
into his authority quickly. A few days of people eagerly agreeing with
everything you said would have that effect on even more mature minds.

“Do you have a plan in mind for the
creature′s capture?” Temas asked me.

“First, I must return to the
Chelidion
to set certain tasks in motion.”

“Yes, I saw the cage when I was on board the
ship. Is it true you mean to capture the creature alive?”

It would have been very unlike Jori to tell the
king more than his own immediate necessity required. Temas must have drawn his
own conclusions. I began to wish the girls would come in to clear away the
platters and plates. Omphale had distracted him once; why not twice?

“Alive?” Phandros echoed. “Surely that’s never
been done before?”

“Others have captured all sorts of creatures.
Many of our legends describe that kind of thing. I think I can do it too, with
a little planning.” I suppose it was prideful of me to put it like that, as if
I were the equal of Hercules who captured the Erymanthian Boar or Bellerophon
who enticed Pegasus. But I’d never been impressed with Hercules’ wits and
Bellerophon just plain got lucky.

“But no one knows where the harpy will strike
next. You’d have to be in just the right spot at just the right moment.”

The king nodded at his counselor’s words. “We
could stake out a young kid. Entice it down with fresh meat.”

“That would work,” Phandros said. “Then we
could have half a dozen men with nets waiting to capture it.”

“I think the beast is too wary for that. It
would be better to rig a drop-net. I believe old Thryon knows how to make one.
He used one to catch that rogue ram, you know, the one with the thorn in his
ear.”

I appreciated their enthusiasm but this was my
operation to run. I already knew how I was going to capture her. “What I need
more than anything right now...” They looked at me expectantly. “Is a few hours
of sleep. Indoors, for a change.”

“Of course,” Temas said graciously though he
looked disappointed. He clapped his hands to summon the girls.

A very pretty one lit the way to my chamber,
giggling like an aeolian harp the whole way. “Tell me, sweet one....”

“Yes,” she said, posing coyly with the candle
held low to throw her chest into relief.

“Somewhere in this house is an old woman named
Doris
. I’d like to speak with her.”

“Doris?”

“Yes.
Doris
.
I talked to her yesterday. Very old. Wears black. Thinks everything is cursed?”

I’ve seen that expression on a kitten’s face
when a ball of thread rolls by. She was interested enough to look but not about
to jump. “I don’t know of any one like that.”

“She’s not in trouble. As a matter of fact, I
want to thank her.”

“Give me the message and I’ll pass it on.” She
came a little closer. “I can keep a secret.”

“I’m sure you can. I’d rather talk to her face
to face.”

“My face is much nicer than some weird old
lady’s.” I couldn’t argue with that. She put it up to be kissed and, having
been raised to be very polite, I kissed her. Purely as an expression of my
gratitude. If she’d been a boy, I would have handed him an obol.

Before she could drop it, I took the candle out
of her hand and lit my way into the room. She started to follow. I pushed the
door gently, closing her on the far side. As her face disappeared, I said,
“Don’t forget to tell
Doris
I want to
see her. Send her up to wake me at dawn.”

Her shrug was eloquent. If I was such a fool to
pass up what was offered freely, there was nothing to be done with me.

A long time later, I lay with my arms folded
under my head in a very comfortable bed, a feather-stuffed pad over a fresh
straw pallet. I had slept well in many worse places yet now I couldn’t see to
bring Hypnos, god of sleep, close enough to throw an arm-lock on him.

From some other room, I heard deep snoring
while the giggles of the girls in the maid’s quarters was like the tinkling of
distant bells. I was thirsty, I decided, but too indolent to seek water. A
feather tickled my nose and a piece of straw dug into the back of my calf where
it hung over the end of the bed. I kept thinking about the spider I’d seen in
the corner of the room, hoping it wasn’t going to get curious about me. I
writhed and twitched, trying to get comfortable.

“I’d be better off among the tree-roots again,”
I said aloud.

I didn’t have to dig too deep to know what was
troubling me. I admitted to myself that I was feeling unusually hesitant about
capturing the harpy. If it hadn’t been for that feather, I would be dead. True,
she hadn’t given it to me, I’d taken it from the fallen trash of her nest. But
Eurytos would have killed me if that feather hadn’t been in my scabbard. I knew
it as I knew my own name.

Closing my eyes, I saw the giant crab swimming
toward me, that human hand almost pearly in the blue water. Eurytos’ mysterious
She hadn’t done him much good after all. I wondered if his goddess would give
him another chance to come into the world of men. Somehow I had a feeling if
She could give her tools such gifts, she would have little patience with one
who bungled their use.

My mind began to revolve scenarios for
tomorrow’s efforts. First, I’d have to get the cage landed which could take
half the morning. Then to take it up to the Temple would eat up a few more
hours, especially if the sailors stopped to dine, chase girls and get drunk.
From my experiences with Jori’s crews, I could count on that.

Maybe it would be better to have the sailors
bring it ashore and then use villagers to take it the rest of the way. No...I
reminded myself impatiently that it was doubtful any of the villagers would
want to go to the Temple until it was purified. Better use the sailors who
wouldn’t have heard the story yet.

I sighed heavily. To make matters worse, an owl
started hooting outside my window. I couldn’t even swear at it, lest it turn
out to be a messenger from Athena. Not that she would have much to say to me. I
was attentive to all the gods but I had a little less time for her than for
some of the others. She watched over soldiers and wise men and I was neither.

I sat up and thumped my pillow. It was sweetly
scented with sleep-inducing herbs but it might have been a pile of broken
sandals for all the comfort it gave me.

With a snort and a cough, the snorer quieted.
The giggling girls had dropped off one by one. I hoped Temas was sleeping well.
He was young, horrors would not leave a deep mark on his soul. Judging by his
smile when Omphale had come back, he would heal a little more each time he saw
her. I’d noticed her sneaking peeks at him from under her lashes as she moved
with a self-conscious grace around the table. Of course, a king is always of
interest to a girl but I had hopes they’d eventually find a way to talk to each
other. I couldn’t very well give him hints about that.

My main objective now was to capture the harpy
and leave Leros. I was more tempted than I’d realized by the offer of the guard
position. A steady salary, young men to train in my style of fighting and
thinking, and pretty island maidens to flirt with sounded like an old soldier’s
ideal. But I wasn’t that old yet. Or was I?

Slowly my eyes began to close. The image of the
pretty island girls became to blur and grow indistinct as though someone threw
water over a newly painted fresco. I could feel sleep wandering nearer, step by
step. Frustrating to know that if I lifted so much as a finger, he’d be gone
again. My last thought was to wonder why Hypnos was such a skittish fellow.
Maybe he had vicious relations.

My dreams at first were the usual muddle,
half-heard words, half-understood imaginings. My mother scolded me for spilling
some wheels of cheese on the floor while tiny ants threw huge shadows on the
white-washed walls of our home.

Even in my dream I knew that wasn’t right.
Whitewash belonged to other parts of Greece; I’d grown up in a series of stone
huts that look tumbled together by the hand of a Titan child. It was good to
see my mother’s face again, though. She looked young, as she had when I was a
boy.

From there, I passed out of thought to the
realm where even the memory of this earthly existence fades. I believe it is
there we dream our most ideal lives, which we lose once more as we drift back
on the tides of waking. It would be too tragic to remember how beautiful
everything is in that dream-world so we forget it all before we ever awaken.

Now there were images again. Omphale, the old
crone, some woman I didn’t know, high-browed and sneering, the ants, Yanni’s
amazed look just before he was eaten. Then the crone again. I felt her cool
hand on my forehead. It was her voice, her eyes but the face was that of the
servant girl at the door. No, it was my Minthe. No, it was the crone. It was
all of them, blending and changing one into the other.

It didn’t matter which woman it was, they all
said the same thing. “Go to Troezen. Hurry before it’s too late.”

“I am,” I said to each in turn. “I am going.”

Nothing I said had any effect. They began to
change faster and faster until I saw only a flickering blur with only a rare
feature recognizable. A nose stood out, then a pair of red lips, or a quick
lift of a black curving eyebrow. I began to hear the roar and crash of waves on
the shore.

Now I wanted to wake up but you cannot shake
yourself awake.

The melange of faces began to resolve itself.
It wasn’t just a random eyebrow; it was specific. The same with the mouth, the
nose, the deep-set eyes.... Slowly a face was evolving but not one I knew. It
was the haughty one, her lips slightly pursed, her dark hair dressed high with
jewel-tipped sticks thrust through the looping, gleamless mass.

When she opened her large eyes, made more
striking with thick kohl, I suddenly felt wide awake. I tried but could not
move so much as a finger. I seemed to hover outside my own body, looking down
at my prone self while at the same time seeing this woman very clearly in my
dream.

“Oh, Thracian, I am awaiting our meeting,” she
told me in a voice like caressed velvet. “Do not break faith with me. Come to
Troezen. Cross the sea. Come to me.”

“Who are you?”