Medea (17 page)

I had to agree with her. This was a magic quite new to me, though Trioda evidently knew enough of it to tame the bulls. I said as much. Anemone sniffed.

'Yes, she knows, that dark woman. She would have been there when the bulls were born - it would not only be essence of calf, but their own scent, probably. But that ointment will lose its potency after a few years. I wonder what she intends to use after it is gone? They are a different breed, not your usual cattle. No ordinary calf-scent will do for them. An interesting problem. Are there cows for the brazen-shod bulls?'

'Yes, three, I believe - they are men's magic and I have never seen them.'

'Men's magic, eh?' Anemone climbed up onto her wagon and I scaled it after her. We lifted the curtains and came into the darkness, scented with human smells and frankincense, the dark smoky oil which dressed the Scythian women's hair.

'I suppose she could prepare an oil which smelt of cow,' mused the Scythian queen, finding an oil lamp and lighting it from a coal in her brazier. As the light burned up, she added, 'But that could have all manner of unexpected results.'

I suddenly saw the king, my father, pursued by a lustful bull, and rolled on the rugs in laughter, clutching my sides.

 

Summer found us at the lake which the Scythians call Moeris. The season was hot; the grass was withering on the ordinary paths, but around the lake there was abundant pasture. The Scythian horses waded belly-deep in buttercups, and we women had little to do but make baskets out of rushes and sleep in the warm darkness, telling stories and drinking kermiss. On such nights, those who had husbands went to submit to them. The others sat around the lake and talked.

'We need a battle,' said Iole. There was an edge to her voice which I could not account for.

'Why do we need a battle?' I asked. I had resumed my black garments, which were cooler than breeches in the heat, and I was lying on the dry lake-side.

'Because until I kill an enemy in battle, I cannot marry.'

'And do you wish to marry?' I asked in surprise. I could not see why free young women should voluntarily place themselves in subjection. I said so.

'Subjection?' asked Iole. 'Does our queen appear to be subject to our king?'

'She goes to him every night,' I said.

'To speak to him, to give and receive information,' said Iole. 'He complains that she wants him to mate with her too often, but he is an old man.'

'She wants him to mate with her?' I asked in complete astonishment.

I heard Iole lean up on one elbow. Her face was an oval in the twilight.

'Yes, of course. She is a lusty woman, our queen. And even if he's not potent, he pleases her. What has amazed you, Scythling Medea?'

'But…'

She came closer to me, wondering if I was ill. 'But?' she prompted.

'The female lies down under the male because she is required to,' I quoted. 'She receives the seed in pain and bears in agony, in order to breed new children for the goddess.'

It was Iole's turn to be astonished. 'So it may be amongst the people of Colchis - everyone knows that Colchis is a strange place - but not here,' she said, drawing me into an embrace.

'Here we mate as we please, and there is great pleasure in mating. Do the animals whimper when the bodies join? Do not the stallions leap the mares to their delight? The act of increase is an act of pleasure - so it was ordained by the goddess. I'll show you - if you will be silent.'

This was entirely new lore to me. Iola laid a finger to my lips, drawing me to my feet. I followed her, barefoot and quiet, to a red tent. I heard someone laughing inside.

Iola bent double and I crawled beside her until we could see inside through a flap cut in the wall. A lamp burned low. On scarlet cushions lay a young man, entirely naked, oiled and shining. I could not see his face, but his torso and loins were bare; and caressing hands ran over his skin, so that I heard the invisible mouth gasp. A woman with long dark hair kissed along the smooth chest up towards the throat. With a flash of muscular flanks, she mounted him like a horse, and the phallus vanished inside her. I heard him groan, heard the woman exclaim as if in triumph, as her round buttocks tensed and she began to ride him as though she was urging a horse into a gallop.

Iole was breathing as though she had been running. I felt something catch at my chest, and something clenched in my belly. This was not submission. Although I could not see her face, she was not in pain. She made cries like a bird, a rising tone, faster, faster, until she screamed and collapsed forward onto her lover's chest. His arms locked around her and we heard them murmur gently to each other, kissing softly. Iole touched my arm and led me away.

When we could walk upright and speak aloud, she asked, 'Did that look like pain?'

'No,' I said. 'But Scythians are different.'

'Thank the goddess,' said Iole.

 

A fair wind filled our sail. We sailed out of the bay of Iolkos into the blue distance. The grey-green landscape flew past, dolphins danced before us, the children of Dionysos, and we skimmed out of the bay into the Ocean of Aegas like a bird.

There was no need to row, and we lounged at our ease. Herakles and Ancaeas, amidships, began to play knife, cloth, stone - a finger, palm and fist game known all over the Aegean. Hylas sat behind Herakles, combing the hero's hair and plaiting feathers into it. Idas crouched over his drum, discussing music with Philammon, demonstrating different percussion techniques with deft flicks of fingers and palm. Philammon took up a double pipe and began to play snatches of tunes to illustrate this point or that, and half the crew were listening and applauding. Lynkeos, who was cook, was cutting up loaves of bread, dividing a skin of cheese into portions and piling it into a basket with handfuls of black, winter-stored olives. Tiphys, the helmsman, was leaning on the steering oars, holding the ship on course, with the wind blowing through his hair. Atalante was whetting her long knife on a piece of mountain stone and whistling through her teeth.

'Unlucky,' said Telamon grumpily.

'What's unlucky?' asked Oileus, who was intensely superstitious.

'Whistling. And women. On board ship.'

Herakles did not look up, but I felt his attention. My oarmate, Clytios, was listening, and so was Jason. Nestor, three oars down, said, 'Now, Telamon. Now, my hero. We are shipmates and all, and must be, or we deserve to founder. This is no woman, but a maiden, and Artemis' maiden at that.'

Nestor was a thickset, strong man. His hair was cropped short around his head, and he had a short beard. He had a very pleasant tenor voice, to which it was a pleasure to listen. He also had a fund of the most scandalous gossip I had ever heard.

'Still,' objected Telamon. 'She's a female creature.'

'Your captain accepted me, Telamon,' said Atalante. 'Is it for you to complain of his choice?'

'If he'd taken you as his woman, that would be one thing,' said the big man stolidly. 'But as a comrade - that is another.'

'Let me see, how can I convince you that I'm worthy to sail in the company of such heroes as you?' mused Atalante. I tensed. I had heard that sweet delicate tone before. The last time was when she had been assaulted by some bully in Iolkos port, and she had not only broken his arm but made him recite a poem in Artemis' honour, with his blubbered face pressed to the tavern floor and his testicles in her hand. I had no doubt that she could do it to Telamon who, though very big, was slow. And, of course, stupid. She was right. If Jason had accepted Atalante, it was not for him to object. I hoped that the big man would accept Nestor's correction. How would he row with a broken arm?

'I don't like it. Toss her over the side, that's what I say,' said Telamon, and I tried to remember what healing herbs we had on board.

Quick as a bird, she swooped on the huge man before he could react. She caught him around the neck and bent him forward. Telamon's eyes bulged as a steely forearm moved up into a wrestling hold which cut off his breath. She was holding him easily, despite his struggles. Herakles nodded approvingly. Oileus, the wrestler, said, 'Nice headlock,' and Nestor put in, 'I'm sure that Telamon is now convinced that you are a valuable addition to the crew, Atalante.'

'Are you?' she asked in that sweet tone, which meant that she was still very angry. Telamon grunted something and she tightened the hold further, so that his face went as purple as the dye from murex shells.

'Are you sure I make a valuable comrade?' she asked again, and the huge hands signalled surrender. She loosed him, leaping back onto my rowing bench as he scythed round to grab her.

Telamon let out a roar of wounded pride, which made every Argonaut grin, then he groaned, 'All right. All right! She has Artemis' own strength and quickness, and that's the truth. Tell me, maiden,' he added, flexing his neck and shoulders, 'they tell me you killed the boar - are they the tusks you wear around your neck? I never credited it before but now I'm prepared to believe it. No one ever played such a trick on Telamon before. You've got a grip like a god. Tell us about the hunt for the Calydonian boar.'

Atalante sat down next to me and said in her usual voice, 'I'll tell you and gladly, comrade, but it's a long tale and I observe that Lynkeos is bringing us food. There will be plenty of time for tales on this quest. And you must have seen some marvels, brother, on your journey from your home.'

And, to my amazement, the giant Telamon almost blushed and said in a modest tone, 'A few small things, perhaps, which might pass the time.'

Philammon and Idas had settled on a tune at last, and we sang along with it, a village dance which celebrated the wedding of Kadmon and Harmony.

Towards the evening, we had passed the rich Pelasgian lands and the rocky flanks of Pelion, where Jason and I had been nursed.
Argo
skirted Sepias, and saw Skiathos island, then, under the clear sky, Peiresiae and the coast of Magnesia. We had come a long way under the breath of Notos, the south wind, but now he deserted us. The wind veered around, our forward way was blocked, and Tiphys called that we should put in for the night on the nearest point of the coast.

We rowed a little, turning the ship to give her steering way, then the current dragged us straight for the shore as it was getting dark.

And there we stayed for two days. The sea ran fast and high, the heroes got bored. Herakles led Hylas, me, Atalante and Clytios in a search along the shore for a certain sort of weed which apparently grew there - we did not find it - and the rest spent their time fishing, lazing or wrestling.

I noticed that Telamon not only refrained from challenging Atalante again, but when she beat Clytios in a foot race and there was some argument about the starting point, boxed Oileus' ears amiably and roared, 'She won fair and square, brothers - let's not complain about it. She is a true daughter of Artemis and I'm not ashamed to admit it.'

He clearly had more intelligence than I had thought. The
Argo
was drawn up on the beach, and we were woken before dawn by Tiphys yelling, 'Get her into the water, the wind's turned!'

We heaved and shoved and
Argo
slid down sweetly into the sea. We rushed to climb aboard, flinging cloaks and skins and ourselves over the thwarts, scrambling to get her under way before the breeze dropped.

'If this doesn't hold we'll be rowing all the way to Athos' shadow,' grumbled Nestor, spitting on his palms and settling into his bench.

But Notos was faithful. We streamed past Meliboea, leaving the storm-racked beaches in our lee. We were half-drenched from running into the sea to push
Argo
out, and sat back to dry our faces and attempt some repairs - in the case of Tiphys, at least - to our flowing locks. Jason had lost his worried look. Now that the voyage had begun he was confident.

'I hope we can make Lemnos before the wind fails,' he remarked.

'Lemnos?' asked Nestor in astonishment. 'Haven't you heard of the Lemnian deed?'

'I have, but I still intend to winter there,' said Jason, and grinned. I hadn't heard of this deed. Nor had my oar-mate, or Akastos.

'What Lemnian deed?' asked the son of Pelias.

'The women of Lemnos have murdered all their men,' said Nestor impressively. 'The men were afflicted by some god and refused to go near their women, choosing Thracian concubines instead. The women, led by their queen, Hypsipyle, rose one night and murdered all the men on the island - with the exception of Thoas, Hypsipyle's father. She couldn't bear to kill him. She put him in an open boat. He washed up on Andros. Luckily it wasn't Lesbos, or they would have sacrificed him. He brought the news to the Achaeans. That is the Lemnian Deed, the worst that ever the Argives knew. And our captain is taking us there.'

'A whole island full of women with no men?' grinned Ancaeas. 'Sounds idyllic.'

'And do you want to wake up with a cut throat too?' asked Akastos.

'If you have a cut throat, you don't wake up,' Ancaeas pointed out reasonably.

'I think that we can make a deal with them,' said Jason. 'They are only women, after all. They can't really defend themselves against armed men.'

'You mean to rape a whole island? You've got an exaggerated idea of your potency, Jason!' said Oileus.

'And you're sailing under the protection of Hera,' said Herakles quietly. 'I don't think this is a good idea. And I don't think she'll think it's a good idea, either.'

'I think, however, that it is worth trying,' said Jason. 'If it doesn't seem expedient we can winter on another island, or in Thrace.'

We saw Olympus, home of the gods, loom up, white and forbidding, as we approached Euymanae. It was getting dark, but we ran all night before the win. Notos blows only occasionally, and he seemed to be taking us to Lemnos, to whatever doom awaited us there. I slept badly. It was cold on the water, and there was nowhere to lie but on my rowing bench. It grew harder as the night darkened, developing unexpected splinters. I did not dare fall deeply asleep, because I was afraid of rolling off. So I lay and watched the stars wheel and rise.