Fred Saberhagen The Book of the Gods 04 God of the Golden Fleece

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possibility
of doing so. "I will get to keep the Fleece," he began, and paused.
"I see. What else?"
The captain glanced momentarily at Proteus, but could see no help in that
direction. He sighed. "You are to go back to your father."
For the first time since they had met, Medea was glaring angrily at the man
to
whom she had been fastened by Cupid's Arrow. It took her a while to get out
any
words at all. "I don't believe it. You must be lying."
Around them, the men had now formed a solid circle of still, listening faces.
The maid seemed about to weep.
What had once been Medea's attitude of supplication was gone, had turned into
something else entirely. Jason's soul was quailing before that gaze.
"My my lady, I only wish it were not true." It was the first time that
Proteus
had heard him stammer.
The princess boiled with rage. She swore with fishwife oaths to set the ship
on
fire, to break it up and hurl herself into the flames. Clenching her fists,
she
screamed out her appeal to the sky. "Gods, give me power! Great Loki, give me
fire to burn! Among all these spineless Heroes, is there not one with manhood
enough to stand by me?"
Jason was obviously frightened, but he forced himself to regain some measure
of
calm. "Enough, my lady. I am no happier about this business than you are. But
we
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are seeking to stave off a fight, encircled as we are by a vast horde of
enemies, and all on your account."
"On my account? On my account?" Her beauty had been transformed, by an anger
so
great that it must push all else aside, so that Proteus marveled. Now she was
her father's daughter. Now Proteus, glancing back over his shoulder at the
poor
little wooden temple, half-hidden among trees, thought he knew what the
chaste
and terrible Artemis must look like when she was calling some human to
account
for some offense.
At the moment, the Mouse was doing her best to make herself invisible.
But Jason, who had faced the angry king with patient argument, was not about
to
be unnerved by a mere princess. He was speaking with relentless calm. " . . .
and if we faced them in the field, we should every one of us be slaughtered.
Would it not mortify you even more if we were killed and left you to them as
a
prize?"
Proteus could see that prospect gave the lady pause, despite her rage.
Jason pressed on, looking at her hopefully. "I said that your brother and I
came
to an agreement, and we did. But what he and I have said to each other is not
necessarily the final word in this matter. Any agreement can be repudiated,
if
there is good cause."
"This one must be."
Maybe, thought Proteus, this man is somewhat deeper and trickier than I have
thought.
The captain was nodding. "As you say. But this truce of a day, before you are
to
be given into the charge of the temple priestess, will give us a little time
to
plan. My lady, you know your brother well. Can you think of any kind of
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stratagem . . . ?"
Medea stood looking at Jason for a time. She looked at Proteus. Eventually
she
said: "We have started down a road that will allow no turning back. Therefore
we
must go on. The decision to come with you was mine, to begin with though I
could
have done nothing else. So now it must be up to me to find the remedy."
She raised the gaze of her blue eyes, until she was staring into the
distance.
"I will trick Apsyrtus into coming back to the island once more, to talk with
me
alone . . ." Now her gaze suddenly fastened on Jason. "Then, if you have the
manhood to do it, kill him. That will throw their whole fleet into chaos."
Proteus felt a chill on hearing those words fall so calmly from such soft and
pretty lips but after observing the lady at close range for several days, he
was
not as utterly surprised as he would have been before the Fleece was taken.
But he thought that Jason was truly startled, and could almost read the
captain's mind. The captain must have thought he was beginning to understand
this woman, but saw now that she was still really almost a total stranger.
What a pair we have here, thought Proteus to himself, studying them; what a
pair
indeed. Either they will do great things together, or they will meet some
truly
spectacular end.
The Mouse was hovering at the side of her mistress. From time to time the
maid
cast a quick look at Proteus as if to see whether this plan met with his
approval.
Ignoring everyone but Jason, who still had not responded, Medea repeated
icily:
"Kill him, I say. Do you fear I will blame you later for my brother's death?
Never! As you have seen, he is ready to kill me."
Jason remained cautious. "He didn't say that. He said "
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