Read Online Medea by Kerry Greenwood - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kerry Greenwood
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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fungus which infects rye which has been wet too often in growing, produces gangrene and mania, a dancing madness. A pregnant woman who tastes of itâ¦
"She aborts the child,' I said, astonished at the queen's cunning.
'There may not be a child. That compound causes the womb to contract, loosing the tide of blood that follows the moon. Thus Eidyia risks all - discovery and disgrace - to avoid death in childbirth. And thus, child, Eidyia endangers her husband, who needs another daughter, so that the sons of Phrixos, through their mother, shall not rule his kingdom after he is dead.'
'Mistress, you have told me that dead men die and rot, that their spirits fly to the land of Ammon to dwell in the sun, as the spirits of women are carried in Hekate's arms to sleep in her bosom. What should the king care that some other man will take his kingdom after he is gone?'
'It is the duty of a king to care for his kingdom, to leave it in safe hands. And that is as strong as the duty laid on women to endure the man, suck in his seed, feed his children with her blood, bear them in agony and nurture them, though she suckles the sons who enslave her sisters and breeds her own captors. That is all I will say to you, Medea.'
She waded onto the path again, and I followed her in silence.
NAUPLIOS
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I thought often of the young centaur woman in the next year, though I did not see her. I might have gone wandering to the other side of the mountain, where the women lived, despite the danger of death if I was caught, for my heart was greatly inclined toward her, but I had no leisure. Jason and I were worked hard by our master.
Cheiron kept us at his side, trying to instil precepts of government and all his wisdom into our heads, so that we would not forget when we left.
For when Jason, son of Aison, was fifteen, he would descend the mountain and try and regain his kingdom.
'Pelias, brother of your father, is a proud and cunning man,' he instructed as we sat close around a horse-dung fire, shivering in the chill winds. 'You are too honest, young prince of Iolkos.'
'How can I be too honest, Master?' asked my lord. His eyes looked blue in the cooling darkness.
'Is not Herakles the greatest hero? Yet he has cunning. You must try to acquire it, Jason, and not die untimely, your quest unaccomplished. Men cling to power, so will Pelia. Men cling more closely to power which is stolen and majesty which is usurped. Use great formality with your uncle, boy. Show me your obeisance.'
Jason got up and made a graceful, sweeping bow, flourishing his goatskin rug like a cloak. Cheiron grunted in approval.
'And the words you will say?'
'Master, I can't remember,' confessed Jason. Cheiron swatted at his ears and repeated, 'I am Jason, son of Aison, and I am come to reclaim my father's right.'
Jason repeated it, again and again, under the centaur's patient teaching, and eventually both of us knew it by heart.
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Time passed, as time does. The festival came and went again, but neither of us were allowed to take part. Philos, who had offered us his captive, had been sent to another mountain in disgrace for defiling the ceremony. I asked the old man about their custom. Would they not rather have wives to live with, as my father lived with my mother?
I could remember my parents talking quietly by the fire, while my brothers and I were lying almost asleep in our sheepskins. Their voices had soothed me, though they said no words of love, just commonplace matters - the health of the flock, the fishing, the mending of nets, the rising or setting of the Pleiades which ruled the seasons. I sometimes recalled little vivid pictures from my past before I had climbed the centaurs' mountain, and that was one of them. The quiet voices discussing the likely value of the clip, and the unaccountable ways of Poseidon's folk, the fish. And I remember waking early one morning and hearing them sacrificing to Aphrodite, goddess of love. My mother had moaned, her arms
"She aborts the child,' I said, astonished at the queen's cunning.
'There may not be a child. That compound causes the womb to contract, loosing the tide of blood that follows the moon. Thus Eidyia risks all - discovery and disgrace - to avoid death in childbirth. And thus, child, Eidyia endangers her husband, who needs another daughter, so that the sons of Phrixos, through their mother, shall not rule his kingdom after he is dead.'
'Mistress, you have told me that dead men die and rot, that their spirits fly to the land of Ammon to dwell in the sun, as the spirits of women are carried in Hekate's arms to sleep in her bosom. What should the king care that some other man will take his kingdom after he is gone?'
'It is the duty of a king to care for his kingdom, to leave it in safe hands. And that is as strong as the duty laid on women to endure the man, suck in his seed, feed his children with her blood, bear them in agony and nurture them, though she suckles the sons who enslave her sisters and breeds her own captors. That is all I will say to you, Medea.'
She waded onto the path again, and I followed her in silence.
NAUPLIOS
Â
I thought often of the young centaur woman in the next year, though I did not see her. I might have gone wandering to the other side of the mountain, where the women lived, despite the danger of death if I was caught, for my heart was greatly inclined toward her, but I had no leisure. Jason and I were worked hard by our master.
Cheiron kept us at his side, trying to instil precepts of government and all his wisdom into our heads, so that we would not forget when we left.
For when Jason, son of Aison, was fifteen, he would descend the mountain and try and regain his kingdom.
'Pelias, brother of your father, is a proud and cunning man,' he instructed as we sat close around a horse-dung fire, shivering in the chill winds. 'You are too honest, young prince of Iolkos.'
'How can I be too honest, Master?' asked my lord. His eyes looked blue in the cooling darkness.
'Is not Herakles the greatest hero? Yet he has cunning. You must try to acquire it, Jason, and not die untimely, your quest unaccomplished. Men cling to power, so will Pelia. Men cling more closely to power which is stolen and majesty which is usurped. Use great formality with your uncle, boy. Show me your obeisance.'
Jason got up and made a graceful, sweeping bow, flourishing his goatskin rug like a cloak. Cheiron grunted in approval.
'And the words you will say?'
'Master, I can't remember,' confessed Jason. Cheiron swatted at his ears and repeated, 'I am Jason, son of Aison, and I am come to reclaim my father's right.'
Jason repeated it, again and again, under the centaur's patient teaching, and eventually both of us knew it by heart.
Â
Time passed, as time does. The festival came and went again, but neither of us were allowed to take part. Philos, who had offered us his captive, had been sent to another mountain in disgrace for defiling the ceremony. I asked the old man about their custom. Would they not rather have wives to live with, as my father lived with my mother?
I could remember my parents talking quietly by the fire, while my brothers and I were lying almost asleep in our sheepskins. Their voices had soothed me, though they said no words of love, just commonplace matters - the health of the flock, the fishing, the mending of nets, the rising or setting of the Pleiades which ruled the seasons. I sometimes recalled little vivid pictures from my past before I had climbed the centaurs' mountain, and that was one of them. The quiet voices discussing the likely value of the clip, and the unaccountable ways of Poseidon's folk, the fish. And I remember waking early one morning and hearing them sacrificing to Aphrodite, goddess of love. My mother had moaned, her arms
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