and he’s afraid. Who will look after him for me, and keep him calm and steady?”
“Why is he afraid?” demanded another, fretful, sighing voice. I saw the dryad of the tree above me, leaning from her boughs, looking sulky. “We are the shadows of shadows. What does he think we can do to him?”
I had no answer. I
really
didn’t understand why people were afraid when they felt the presence of these harmless things, which I could see and mortals could not. But I was afraid of floating boxes, which was just as senseless. A slim, cold hand crept into mine. It was the naiad of the spring, a glimmering, transparent girl-shape. “I will mind him for you, Perseus. I will sing to him and make him comfortable. Will you kiss me?”
“Of course I will, my dear.”
I knelt and drank, just a mouthful. She was sweet on my lips.
Kefi was hugging himself and hopping like a demented grasshopper. I convinced him there was nothing wicked in the hollow, and reminded him that the spring was a kindly one. Then I went on alone, like a fox through the bushes, close to the steps, hoping he wouldn’t bolt for home as soon as I was gone. I wondered if he could really tell the time (when I came to think of it, I’d never seen Kefi out this late), and what the gathering of spirits in the goat hollow meant. Those creatures didn’t usually speak, or show themselves so clearly. Maybe they’d come to see the end of me.
The cemetery, which was perched on the hillside halfway between Seatown and the High Place, was ourfinal boundary. I skirted the walls, then I climbed in and hunted between the graves. There was no one about and no obvious sign of a struggle. It was a small field. We sow the dead, one upon the other; they don’t disturb each other. Still not a sign of Anthe or Pali. But there at the cemetery gates, caught on a bramble, I spotted a ragged scrap that wasn’t a leaf. I crouched to pull it free, sniffed it, and smelled our taverna kitchen. I had tapers, flint and tinder in my pouch. But I didn’t need a light to see the color. I knew. They’d been here. Anthe had torn her yellow dress.
I decided I must go farther. If I was caught, then the truce would be over no matter what, but I had to find out what had happened. My mind was on my friends: the king’s men had been known to torture prisoners. But I was thinking of myself too, with a horrible crawling in my belly that told me I
was not ready
. I was the threat that Polydectes couldn’t endure, and I was just a kid, a great overgrown boy with no beard, no brains, no ideas….
What could I do? Challenge him to single combat? Not even if he would accept. A tyrant king is like one of those monsters where you chop off one head and a hundred leap into its place. He had an army, most of them kidnapped villagers once, but they were soldiers now. He had nobles, as bad as himself, ready to fall on each other like a pack of savage dogs. I could kill Polydectes, and war would come anyway, laying waste to everything I loved.
I heard a faint groan, over on the stone stairway.
I dropped to the ground, and listened intently. The groan came again. Uphill, but not far. Then I heard someone whispering, pleading. It was Anthe’s voice!
I don’t know which of us was more relieved when I crawled out of the undergrowth. She was crouched beside Palikari, who was lying in a heap on the steps. She leapt up, with a fish-gutting knife in her fist, smears of blood all over, saw it was me and we fell into each other’s arms. Anthe hadn’t been touched, and there were no soldiers around, but Pali was in a bad state. She’d ripped up her dress to bandage him, but he had a head wound that was still bleeding, his left shoulder was a mess and he was barely conscious.
She told me what had happened while I tried to find out the extent of Palikari’s injuries. There was a young man who’d been a childhood friend of Pali’s who was now an officer in the king’s army. He was an informant we’d used
“Why is he afraid?” demanded another, fretful, sighing voice. I saw the dryad of the tree above me, leaning from her boughs, looking sulky. “We are the shadows of shadows. What does he think we can do to him?”
I had no answer. I
really
didn’t understand why people were afraid when they felt the presence of these harmless things, which I could see and mortals could not. But I was afraid of floating boxes, which was just as senseless. A slim, cold hand crept into mine. It was the naiad of the spring, a glimmering, transparent girl-shape. “I will mind him for you, Perseus. I will sing to him and make him comfortable. Will you kiss me?”
“Of course I will, my dear.”
I knelt and drank, just a mouthful. She was sweet on my lips.
Kefi was hugging himself and hopping like a demented grasshopper. I convinced him there was nothing wicked in the hollow, and reminded him that the spring was a kindly one. Then I went on alone, like a fox through the bushes, close to the steps, hoping he wouldn’t bolt for home as soon as I was gone. I wondered if he could really tell the time (when I came to think of it, I’d never seen Kefi out this late), and what the gathering of spirits in the goat hollow meant. Those creatures didn’t usually speak, or show themselves so clearly. Maybe they’d come to see the end of me.
The cemetery, which was perched on the hillside halfway between Seatown and the High Place, was ourfinal boundary. I skirted the walls, then I climbed in and hunted between the graves. There was no one about and no obvious sign of a struggle. It was a small field. We sow the dead, one upon the other; they don’t disturb each other. Still not a sign of Anthe or Pali. But there at the cemetery gates, caught on a bramble, I spotted a ragged scrap that wasn’t a leaf. I crouched to pull it free, sniffed it, and smelled our taverna kitchen. I had tapers, flint and tinder in my pouch. But I didn’t need a light to see the color. I knew. They’d been here. Anthe had torn her yellow dress.
I decided I must go farther. If I was caught, then the truce would be over no matter what, but I had to find out what had happened. My mind was on my friends: the king’s men had been known to torture prisoners. But I was thinking of myself too, with a horrible crawling in my belly that told me I
was not ready
. I was the threat that Polydectes couldn’t endure, and I was just a kid, a great overgrown boy with no beard, no brains, no ideas….
What could I do? Challenge him to single combat? Not even if he would accept. A tyrant king is like one of those monsters where you chop off one head and a hundred leap into its place. He had an army, most of them kidnapped villagers once, but they were soldiers now. He had nobles, as bad as himself, ready to fall on each other like a pack of savage dogs. I could kill Polydectes, and war would come anyway, laying waste to everything I loved.
I heard a faint groan, over on the stone stairway.
I dropped to the ground, and listened intently. The groan came again. Uphill, but not far. Then I heard someone whispering, pleading. It was Anthe’s voice!
I don’t know which of us was more relieved when I crawled out of the undergrowth. She was crouched beside Palikari, who was lying in a heap on the steps. She leapt up, with a fish-gutting knife in her fist, smears of blood all over, saw it was me and we fell into each other’s arms. Anthe hadn’t been touched, and there were no soldiers around, but Pali was in a bad state. She’d ripped up her dress to bandage him, but he had a head wound that was still bleeding, his left shoulder was a mess and he was barely conscious.
She told me what had happened while I tried to find out the extent of Palikari’s injuries. There was a young man who’d been a childhood friend of Pali’s who was now an officer in the king’s army. He was an informant we’d used
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