WHEN MEDEA MADE her plea to Maxinia, I could only see ruin. Resisting my impulse to order my cousin to refuse her was like holding back a volcano. He would go back on his promise to Helen, the Colchians would attack, the crew would hate him. But to my surprise the woman’s plan worked and I found an odd sense of respect for Medea’s cleverness. It is of course a tentative respect. Medea has proven she is one to have on your side, but is also one you would never want to cross. The easing of Iolalus’s shoulders matches the relieved sigh I let out as the Colchians climb back aboard their ship and give the command to depart.
Osterians love their weddings, even impromptu ones, and several people rush down to congratulate the couple giving me a chance to speak with Iolalus. Eventually, using her size to break through the crowd, Maxinia leads Jason and Medea up the stairs to the dock where they join me and Iolalus beside the ship. This time when Iolalus holds out his hands Jason readily clasps one and Medea grips the other, their faces beaming with joy and their cheeks rosy from the wine the Portaceans have insisted upon them.
“I would ask you to stay, to celebrate your wedding with a feast, but I suspect you want to get home.”
“Urgently,” Jason says.
Just then Castor and Pollux march off the ship with their bags and weapons. Jason drops Iolalus’s hands and hurries to the twins.
“Castor, Pollux,” Jason says. “I would ask you to stay, to help me in Salemnos. I fear I will need all the help I can get.”
“You should have thought of that before,” Pollux growls.
“Before you broke your promise to our sister,” Castor adds. His words could turn steaming bath water to ice.
“Please understand. I would have died otherwise.”
“We understand.” They both shoot a look to Medea before shoving their way past the newlyweds.
Orpheus also disembarks with his harp in hand. He sways slightly as he takes his first steps on dry land in several days. Unlike Castor and Pollux, he stops to say his goodbyes to me and Jason.
“Not you too, Orpheus,” I say.
“I’m home,” he says with a shrug. “I want to stay here. Besides, I don’t think a harp or engineering skills will do you much good against your troubles in Illamos Valley.”
“I didn’t think they would do much when we left, but they did,” Jason says. “Still, I understand. Thank you for going with us.” Jason and I take turns shaking Orpheus’s hand.
“Happy wedding day,” he says to Medea and gives her a nervous look before placing a kiss on her cheek. I watch him weave his way through the crowd. He is only halfway through before a small, brown-haired woman rushes up to him and throws her arms around his neck. I recognize her as the wood nymph Eurydice from Doliones Island. Not only do I wonder at how she got away, but also at how such an awkward man attracted such an eye-catching girl.
I scan the crowd hoping to see Penelope’s face, hoping that somehow she received word we would be here and will come running down to greet me.
“She’s still visiting her parents,” Iolalus says. I smile broadly at his perceptiveness that he swears has nothing to do with his hair color.
“No doubt unable to accept that this city is being ruled by someone with about as much intelligence as a donkey’s dong.”
“At least my face doesn’t look like a pile of satyr shit,” Iolalus says with a laugh. “Now get out of here before you foul the place any further.” He pauses. “And consider telling Jason what I told you. I don’t know if it means anything, but it’s better to be on the alert.”
I give Portaceae’s Solon a hug before grabbing the mooring rope and climbing aboard the Argoa. Perseus stands on deck, not letting me past.
“My sandals are clean.” I show him the bottoms of my shoes. “Nothing to dirty the Argoa’s woodwork.”
“I’m going no further. The men and I were ready to set out before we took up with you. We’ve returned you to Portaceae. It’s time we sought our own route.”
“We could use you,” I say sincerely, knowing every man on this ship to be an excellent fighter. But Perseus’s face remains firm and I know I must concede to his wishes. “I’ll gather our things.”
“It’s already been done and transferred to the boat you came in on.” He sticks out his hand as if he’s done me a great favor. I should feel offended, but I can’t blame him. The Argoa and its crew have faced peril from natural forces, gods and man thanks to Jason. I would want to be clear of my cousin as well if it weren’t for my worry of what he would become without me. I take Perseus’s hand.
“Thank you. For everything. Jason,” I call down to the dock, grinning at Perseus, “looks like we won’t have to smell this centaur fart any longer.”
In a rare show of humor, Perseus breaks into a full smile and claps me on the shoulder. He may be kicking us off his ship, but I sense he and his crew will always be our allies.
What is left of the crew rows the Argoa away from the dock. As soon as the ship centers herself in the river, Perseus steers north, cutting through the water with a snap to the sails. Jason, Medea and I climb into the royal ship and I prepare it for launch. As we drift off from Portaceae City, Medea and Jason wave from the bow like a couple setting off for their honeymoon. When Jason turns from his send off, I stare at him before my eyes settle on Medea.
“I know why you did what you did,” I say, “but I don’t think you’ll be happy in your marriage. I just felt I should say that.”
“Then we shall have to prove you wrong,” Medea says.
“I hope you do,” I reply. “But I doubt it.”
Medea, her face filled with smug arrogance, refuses to comment. She kisses Jason on the cheek and whispers something in his ear before striding off to explore the small ship.
“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Jason asks once his bride is out of ear shot. “That woman has saved me how many times now? She loves me. She will bear my children and be Queen of Illamos Valley by my side. Helen is gorgeous. No doubt word has already started flaming across Osteria. She’ll be fighting off suitors by this time tomorrow. So please, Odysseus, why can’t you simply say congratulations and mean it?”
“Because of Iolalus.”
“I don’t want to marry Iolalus. I never have.”
I can’t help but grin at the joke, but my smile drops as quickly as it appeared.
“You saw me speaking with him?” Jason nods. “When he saw Medea he recalled a dream he had only days before. In it he saw two dead children. Twins.”
“Most likely a nightmare about his niece and nephew. Not every redhead is an oracle, you know.”
“I know he’s always denied having any special sight, but he was right about Orpheus,” I say, but Jason only half hears me as he cranes his neck looking for Medea. I know now, with the rush of nuptial excitement full on my cousin, I will not be able to convince him to be wary of Medea. Nor, I know, can I change the future if it has been seen. I will let the matter rest for the time being and decide not to mention Iolalus’s niece and nephew had been tow-headed. The children Iolalus dreamed of had heads full of black hair. “Still, perhaps you’re right. I get distracted by him because he smells like a satyr’s ass. Overwhelms my head.”
“Are we done?” Jason asks impatiently.
“I suppose I should offer my congratulations. But I don’t think your wife likes me.”
“Good, I would question her taste otherwise.”
Despite traveling against the Illamos River’s northerly current, we make good time by taking advantage of the wind and the sail and the knowledge we’ve gained from being on the Argoa. Despite still traveling slower than the messengers who gallop past us on their speedy ponies, I think perhaps the Twelve are on our side. The afternoon sun has warmed the air and the wind that was so bitter on the Col does not bite its way very far into the Illamos Valley. Although the need to hurry still gnaws at me, I wonder if it is only the desire to be done with these adventures and the yearning to see Jason home safely so I can get on my way to Penelope.
With the sun peering over the hills to our east, the royal ship pulls into Salemnos Harbor. Just as I am about to step off the boat to tie her to the dock, the sound of mourning bells echoes through the silent city. My stomach twists with the knowledge that we have not come soon enough.