Read Online Jason and Medeia by John Gardner - Free Book Online Page A

clearer here, like sounds through wintry fog:
    the clatter
    of plates, laughter like a wave striking. She said, not
    turning,
    â€œIt’s a strange sound, the laughter of a crowd when
    you’ve no idea
    what they’re laughing at.” She turned, sighing. “I’m
    fiercely jealous,
    as you see. How dare the man go up and have dinner
    with the king
    and leave me wasting?”
    The slave did not smile. “You should sleep, Medeia.
    She shook her head, refusing her mistress further
    speech.
    The lids of the old woman’s eyes hung loose as a
    hound’s. She said:
    â€œWhen you came to Pelias’ city bringing the fleece,
    your hand
    on Jason’s arm—the beautiful princess and handsome
    prince,
    lady of sunlight, hero in a coal-dark panther skin— that time too your eyes were ice. Oh, everyone saw it, and a shiver went through us. —And yet you’d saved
    him, and he’d saved you,
    and nobody there, no matter how old, could recall he’d
    seen
    a handsomer couple.” She closed her eyes and rocked,
    as slow
    as a merchant ship sunk low in the water when the wind first fills her sails. She said, ‘Your
    face was flushed,
    and when Jason moved his hand on your arm, the air
    in the room
    turned rich, overripe as apples fallen from the tree—
    despite
    that glacial stillness of eyes. I was heavy with years,
    life-sickened
    already by then. I saw I must end my days in the service of a lord and lady whose love was a fadge of guilt
    and scorn,
    a prospect evil enough. And little by little, as the tales of the Argonauts came to our ears, we understood.
    Such a passion
    as Queen Aphrodite had put on you two was never seen on earth before; not even in Kadmos and Harmonia was such fire seen. But passion or no, he hated you. How could he not?—a princely Akhaian, and you’d
    saved his life
    by the midnight murder of your own poor trusting
    brother! No matter
    to Jason that that was your one slim chance. He’d
    sooner be dead
    than safe and ashamed. Worse yet … Don’t be
    surprised, lady,
    that I dare to speak these things. I can see how it
    drains your cheeks,
    the mention of your brother’s murder. No better than
    you can I tell
    which way your anger will strike, at yourself or me.
    You suck in
    breath, and I’m shaken with fear—but my fear is more
    by far
    for you than it is for myself. I’ve seen how you wince
    and cry out,
    alone. It fills me with dread. You’ll plunge into
    madness, Medeia,
    hating what couldn’t be helped, wrenching your heart
    out in secret,
    proud—oh, prouder than any queen living—but even
    at the height
    of that fierce Aiaian pride, uncertain, doubting you merit the friendship of any but the
    Queen of Death.
    You’re poisoned, Medeia. Venomed as surely as the ivy
    burning
    from within. I’d cure you if I could, if I knew how to
    force you to hear me.
    Think, child of the sun! Think past the bouldered hour that dams the flow of your mind. Lord Jason hated you. Justly, you think? Unselfishly? Is Jason a god? He’d agreed to your plan—agreed for your life’s sake,
    not his.
    To save your life, the woman who scattered his wits
    like a vision—
    like the sizzling crepitation of a lightning-bolt— he’d do what he’d never consider to save himself. No
    wonder
    if after he’d saved what he worshipped, your Jason
    gnawed his fists
    and hated all sight of what proved his weakness.
    â€”Jason who once
    loved honor, trusted his courage. You taught him his
    price.”
    The slave
    was silent awhile. Medeia waited—high cheeks
    bloodless.
    The slave said softly, “—But time soon changed all that. Not any intentional act of yours, Medeia, nor any act of his. Mere time. We saw how he tensed when you screamed in the pain
    of your labor, bearing him
    sons. Great tears rushed down his cheeks, and his
    shoulders shook.
    In part of his mind—we saw it