Dangerous Secrets (105 page)

Her smile showed crooked teeth, small as milk
teeth but sharp.
‶
I am your future. And you are mine.″

She seemed to gloat over me, her tongue
churning against her teeth, her eyes burning with lust.

Now, don′t get me wrong. I don′t
mind a woman taking the lead sometimes. It can be fun. But the hunger in her
gaze seemed to go beyond mere lust into something foul.

I began to struggle against the bonds she
seemed to have cast around me with her gaze. She repeated her claim on me with
even greater intensity, her face coming nearer. She raised a bone-white hand as
if she could touch me through the veils of night. I saw myself on the bed,
sweating, my brow corrugated as I tossed my head from side to side.

“Wake up, Eno, you lout,” I shouted from my
vantage point somewhere near the ceiling. “Wake up.”

I did. For a moment, I stared around
mindlessly, disoriented by the sudden change of perspective. I’d returned to my
body as quickly as if I’d fallen into it.

Someone scratched at the door. I came to
myself, sitting on the edge of the bed. It creaked as I got up and,
bleary-eyed, opened the door to see the same girl I′d kissed the night
before.

“You wanted to be woken up at dawn,” she
reminded me as I stood there blinking down at her.

“Did I? Oh, yes, that’s right.” I yawned, while
glancing up and down the narrow hall. “Did you find
Doris
?”

“I told you there’s nobody here named that.”

“Did you ask?”

“Yes,” she said with a humoring sigh. “I asked
Iole. She’s worked here since she could crawl and she says nobody named
Doris
has ever been here, let alone been
here yesterday. Do you want something to eat?”

I thanked her and said I’d come down to the
kitchens myself. Then I sat on the bed again, my face buried in my hands.
Suddenly, I didn′t want to go any where, let alone far-off Troezan. Death
was an ordinary hazard of the business but that woman...I shuddered deeply as
if I′d touched something unclean.

When I got downstairs, the girl was gossiping
with the others, including, to my dismay, Omphale. “And he wouldn’t even let me
in...”

One of the others said, “Well, you know what
they say about the men in Athens.”

“But he’s from Thrace. Have you heard what they
say about them?”

“No...what?”

I cleared my throat and they scattered like
chickens. Omphale gave me a friendly nod. Someone had dressed her hair in a
soft knot and she wore a trace of kohl on her eyelids. “How are you settling
in?” I asked as I sat down.

“The girls are very kind,” she said, putting
bread before me. “They talk about things I don’t understand, though.”

“You’ll learn.” Had I done her a favor after
all by bringing her here? It would be a shame if she became like other girls,
giggling and silly. Remembering how she’d insisted on doing her own running
when the harpy attacked, I had no real fears that she would.

“They say you’ll try to capture that thing
today,” she said.

“Yes. I don’t think it will be too difficult.”
I started to say something light and reassuring when she cut me off.

“Neither do I.”

“Eh?”

“I know it can’t stay here. My people will kill
it if they can. What will you do with it?”

Temas and Phandros had assumed that I’d kill it
outright, somewhere far from Leros where whatever God had sent it would not be
displeased. Omphale did not assume that.

“What do you think I should do with it?”

“Take it away and let it go. Find some quiet
little island where it won’t bother anyone.”

I put my elbow on the table, my chin in my
hand, and studied her. “Why all this mercy? It tried to kill you.”

“Do you think I’m the kind to hold a grudge?
Besides, once you understand something, you can’t hate it any more.”

“And you think you understand this thing?”

“You understand it too, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t understand most females of
whatever species.” I tried a charming grin on for size. It didn’t melt her
heart appreciably.

“You’re not a stupid man, Eno. Don’t you think
the poor thing has a very good reason for attacking a woman walking and talking
with you?”

“What reason could it possibly have? Animals
don’t reason the way men do.”

She gave me that look. All women have it in
their arsenal. I think they are born knowing how to aim and fire it. It starts
with a sigh, a roll of the eyes heavenward, and then they stare steadily while
the unfortunate male hurriedly reviews his entire calendar of crimes, of
omission and commission, for the exact one she is objecting to now.

I applied myself to my porridge. After a minute
or two and another heavy sigh, she went to make my breakfast. I was so glad to
escape that I didn’t ask again about
Doris
.

The dew still pearled on the grass as I went to
the edge of the cliff above the bay. I could see the
Chelidion
far below me. The sea looked as calm as a bowl of milk,
belying the roiling mass of life that carried on beneath the surface.

It would have been the easy and comfortable
thing to walk down to the pier and row myself out as I had when I took the
young king to see the ship. But I knew in my heart that the battle with Eurytos
had left a fear of the sea like a raised and twisted scar on my soul. I’d known
it yesterday when I’d stood at the water’s edge, watching the dolphins at play.
The old Eno would have dived in and swum out to meet them but I had been
afraid.

I care little for what the world may say of me
but to stand so accused in my own judgment...that I will not bear. Even in the
hint of such fear has driven me to take risks and undergo trials that a
simpler, wiser man would decline. I can never be free of the doubt that it is
not wisdom but cowardice. That is my weakness, one that sends me to dive, in this
instance, into a depthless sea at the prompting of jeering ghosts.

I stood on the cliff, my toes clutching the
sandy edge. Raising my arms, I inhaled and exhaled, each breath deeper and
wider. Then I reached out, turning my arms into a bowsprit, raised up on the
balls of my feet and dove off.

Through the rush of the wind in my ears, I
heard the harpy cry, or maybe it was a man, calling out, ‘Stop, you fool!”

I dove down into the colder layers until again
my breath burned in my throat. A sea turtle stared at me from ancient, wrinkled
eyes and I startled a couple of long-bodied fish but that was all. Rising, I
broke the sparkling surface, laughing at my folly but powerless against it. I
had fought my fears again and won but they would return. They always return.

Chapter 11

When I came back from the ship, Phandros was
waiting for me on the dock.
‶
Where have you been?

I grinned at him.
‶
I had to make
arrangements with Jori. I′ll capture the harpy today and be on my
way.″ I shook myself like a dog, water flying off me.
‶
Where′s
this taverna I′ve heard so much about?″

After we were served drinks, sitting at a table
under a grape arbor, a pleasant spot we had all to ourselves, Phandros looked
grimmer even than usual. He′d watered his wine more than half.

‶
You said you′d sell the
harpy in Troezan. Ever been there?″

‶
No. Have you?″

He shook his head.
‶
I′ve heard
strange tales, that′s all.″

‶
Seems every island tells tall
tales about all the others. Apparently, there are stories about Thrace which
isn′t even an island.″

‶
I suppose you are right. Gossip
spreads like milk in water until you cannot separate it from the truth.″

‶
Sometimes rumors are true. You
said that Queen Amymone was from Lesbos. Now that′s an island with plenty
of rumors swirling around it,″ I said with a wink.

Phandros looked disapproving.
‶
Oh,
you mean that old tale about the women there? Nonsense, my good fellow. Pure
nonsense, I assure you. Our dear queen was as open and sunny as the day, not
remote and cold at all.″

‶
I think we are talking about
different stories,″ I said.

‶
You do mean the one about
Orpheus′ head?″

‶
Do I?″

‶
You must know it. Every
schoolboy knows it.″

‶
My education was
neglected.″

A true teacher, Phandros could not pass up the
chance to enlighten my ignorance, even if he sighed dramatically at my
denseness.
‶
You
do know that Orpheus was torn to pieces by the maddened handmaidens of
Dionysus? In Thrace, actually, according to the legends.″

‶
Really?″ I ignored the
slur on my homeland.
‶
Why did they do that?″

‶
The tale varies. Some say it
was because he would play only sad songs after Eurydice was returned to Hades
and they didn′t care for the tunes. Some say it was his indifference to
their orgies; others that he refused the worship of the God of Wine to follow
the God of the Sun. As you cannot have true revelry without both music and
wine, the God slew him for the discourtesy. Naturally, there is considerable
discussion among scholars as to which is the true tale. These others are
folk-legends or a blend of other tales. Macrites of Corinth, for instance, has
suggested that...″

‶
Where does Lesbos come into the
tale?″ I asked, interrupting what promised to be a lengthy exposition.

‶
Ah, yes. Well, the poet′s
head fell into the sea and was carried to the island of Lesbos where it was
recovered by several handmaidens to the queen at the time. It was speaking
prophetic verses and continued for three days after his death. These prophecies
were so horrific that the maidens and the queen vowed that they would never
repeat them, except to their own daughters so that they would not be entirely
forgotten. Each woman vows equal secrecy and the habit has so grown on them
that they are now famous for their taciturnity and their reserve, rare indeed
among women.″

‶
It′s said that they are
so reserved that they don′t even tell their children that they love
them.″

‶
As I say, a false tale. Queen
Amymone was not like that. A more open-hearted woman never lived. She′d
say that she loved her husband, throwing her arms about his neck. He permitted
her a great deal of license, more than is granted to most women.″

I thought of my Minthe. Would she ever throw
her arms around me and declare her love? Did she even know I existed?

Phandros had been musing too.
‶
Though....″

‶
What?″ I poured him a
little more wine and he drank it absent-mindedly.

‶
Perhaps I am being wise after
the event. Yet it strikes me now that there was something almost defiant in the
way she proclaimed her affection.″ He poured himself a little more wine.
‶
She
would say that she loved him in spite of everything. One naturally assumed this
was the result of some quarrel, after they′d made up. Yet perhaps there
was more to it than that. She was from Lesbos, after all.″

‶
I wish Nausicaa were still
here. I have a lot of questions she might have answered if I′d only known
what to ask.″

‶
What did happen up in the
temple, Eno? And how did you defeat Eurytos and his men? If you want to discuss
wild rumors, start with one of those.″

Phandros′ eyes were shrewd, if red. If
anyone could help me sort through the knotted threads of my tangled thought, he
could. I wanted to trust him but he had lived a long time in the midst of what
I was beginning to believe was part of a cult of dark magic.
‶
Tell
me this first, Phandros. Why is there such a large temple to Artemis on this --
pardon me -- rather unimportant island?″

‶
Another legend. Our lands are
full of legends as Attica is full of snakes. You can hardly move without
stepping on one.″

‶
Let′s not talk about
snakes, if you don′t mind,″ I said, taking a drink myself.
‶
What
is the legend?″

We were like two old wives, sitting in the sun,
gossiping about our betters.

‶
A typical tale of the Gods.
There are, as you know, seventeen portals to Hades, other than the traditional
way of crossing the River Styx on Charon′s boat. One is here, so they
say, and long ago Artemis came with her arrows to drive back some escaping
Titans. She decreed a temple be built over the spot. A typical tale as I say.
No one has ever seen anything unnatural here, not until last night.″

‶
I suggest you recommend to the
king that a new statue of the Goddess be dedicated as soon as possible.″

His eyes had grown comically large.
‶
Yes,
yes, indeed.″

‶
There are really seventeen
portals to Hades?″

‶
So scholars say.″ He
began to tick them off on his fingers, obscure cities, most remote or
unimportant. I stopped him at a name I knew.

‶
Troezan?″

‶
Ah, yes, a very famous portal.
It is known as the Poor Man′s or the Miser′s Way, as you
don′t need two coins to pay the Ferryman. You can walk.″

‶
Not I.″

‶
No!″ he said and spat.
‶
I
meant no ill omen.″

I wanted to trust Phandros. Despite his dry and
stuffy ways, I thought him an honest man who had done his best for an island
that was not his native land. But why did he drink so much? What memory or
crime was he trying to drown? Perhaps nothing more than a forbidden affection
for the late Queen of Leros. She must have been a remarkable woman.

What had Nausicaa said? Something about how the
plans had been delayed by a fool? Had Amymone come to open the portal only to
find love within her arranged marriage? Had the birth of Temas tied her to life
instead of death?

There were too many unanswered questions. I
felt I′d give my entire profit from this job for a few solid,
indisputable answers.

‶
A fool like you...″ I
murmured.
‶
That′s
what she said. Kept too long away by a fool like you.″

‶
What?″

‶
Just talking out loud.
Let′s get another beaker.″

Phandros licked his lips but resolutely refused
more wine. He waved the taverna keeper over to ask for the reckoning.

What made me a fool, beside the obvious? More
questions, fewer answers yet. But there was something rattling around in the
far depths of my mind that might make sense if I could only reach it.

The landlord refused our money and made a fuss
over wiping the table, which did not need it.
‶
If you gentlemen are finished
with your wine, some of the lads are grumbling a bit, sir, about the...well,
about the dead ones.″

‶
Never mind,″ I said,
standing up.
‶
They′ll
be fond enough of me in a couple of hours.″

***

After the sun had passed the zenith, I felt
lower than something smelly stuck to the bottom of a sandal but my prophecy had
come true. I was very popular.

The harpy had come to me trustingly, pecking
the wheat I held in my hand. When she was near enough, I dropped the grains,
threw one arm around her body and flattened my other hand over her mouth.
Instinctively, she tried to kick but her claws skittered uselessly over the
breastplate of my armor.

I thrust her into the cage and slammed the door
closed before she could turn and come at me. I watched, heart-sick, as she
threw herself frantically against the bars. “Don’t,” I said, knowing she could
not understand. “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Was I afraid or hopeful that she could rip her
way out? All I knew is that when the olivewood and iron held, I felt a great
weariness settle down on my shoulders.

In a few minutes, she huddled down in the
corner, her wings swept over her face in the attitude I’d come to associate
with sorrow. She did not raise her face even when I lifted the cage.

My muscles ached as I carried my burden the
hundred yards or so to the wagon I’d borrowed from the local oil merchant. The
donkeys were placid creatures yet even they shifted their feet and rolled
frightened eyes as I lowered the cage into the back.

They showed a surprising increase in energy I
drove over the rough track to the ruined pier. Several sailors stood there,
waiting for me. I had ordered them not to step foot off the pier and they had
obeyed. Perhaps the way I’d picked all three of them up in one fist by the
slack of their garments while talking to them might have given them the notion
I was serious in my commands.

“You got it!” one of them said gleefully as I
drew up beside them. “Way to go!”

“Ugly thing, ain’t it?” one of his fellows
added.

I didn’t glance at any of them. I might have
appeared stern but I didn’t want them to see the shame I felt lurking in my
eyes. “Is the boat ready?”

“Yes, yes, ready and waiting.”

They’d rigged a winch while I’d been gone. As
is usual with sailors and other men initiated into deep mysteries, there was a
certain amount of milling around and unnecessary display of difficulties before
commencing on any operation. They discussed weights and shifting beams and
balances, even though I’d told them to be ready when as soon as I returned.

“Hurry up,” I growled.

“Aye, aye, sir. Just another minute....”

Of course, it was impossible to sneak away
cleanly. I’d known that. I stood on the end of the dock, my new sword tied on
my belt with a leather cord and a long staff of wood in my hand. Slowly at
first, but then with increasing speed as word spread, a crowd gathered.

“Is that it?” a fat woman said in a tone of
disparagement.

“Oh, look, Iamos! Did you ever see such a
thing?”

“I want to see, Mother. Lift me up. Lift me up,
Mother.”

The veiled woman were clustered together,
whispering behind their hands but glancing far more than at me than at the
harpy. I saw merchants, farmers and a couple of faces from the palace. A few
high-bellied men conferred near the front of the crowd. Half a dozen young boys
were jostling near the sea-wall, daring each other to move closer. I saw one
stoop for a loose stone. With a rascally glance at his fellows, he hurled it at
the cage.

Some cheered as the stone arced through the air
while others applauded, pushing forward. I knew it would only be a moment
before all manner of trash would be thrown and I wasn’t having it.

I caught the stone. I fixed my eyes on the boy
and squeezed. Sand rained down from my fingers. Then I turned my back on them.

The tenor of the crowd’s noises shifted from
triumph to anger. “Let us have it!”

“Yeah, we know what to do with it!”

“Chicken dinner tonight,” called a high tenor
voice, followed by clucking noises. Someone else decided it was wittier to crow
like a rooster.

I turned toward them again, my hand resting
negligently on my sword. One of the town-leaders, his belly as round as a water
jar, swaggered forward, holding up his hands for silence.

“On behalf of the people of Leros, I’d like to
express my very profoundest....”

From out of the crowd had slipped a
narrow-faced, grey-haired man with a beard tangled as a neglected fishing net.
Phandros murmured something in the pot-bellied man’s ear and I saw the
blowhard’s eyebrows raise so high they tangled in his hair. “Really? Oh,
certainly, certainly.”

He silenced the crowd again. “As I was saying,
on people loved by Eros of...or rather, I...oh, dear. Gentlemen, the King!”

Temas had brushed his hair in honor of the
occasion. He’d flung a bright red himation over his shoulder and his chiton
gleamed brilliantly in the morning sunshine. A gold bracelet clasped his right
wrist and a large signet carved from a single emerald adorned his forefinger.
He wore no diadem but his people parted for him, bowing.

He clasped my right forearm and I had no choice
but to return the greeting. “Good people,” he said in a clear, carrying voice.
“We have much to thank our friend Eno the Thracian for on this day. No other
man could have triumphed against the evils that beset us. No more will we be
threatened by Eurytos the Criminal and his band.”