In the Shadow of Heroes Page 21

  ‘I wish—’ She stopped short and chewed her lower lip.

  ‘What?’

  ‘No, it is blasphemous. A terrible thing to say.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  She lowered her voice. ‘I wish I did not have my gift. I wish I had my old eyes. I wish I could see you, as you see me. Then I would have known straight away, the moment you came to the house.’

  Cadmus looked at her, saw himself reflected in her pupils.

  ‘Did you lose your sight in the fire?’ he asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘How did you survive? Afterwards?’

  ‘There is a group of men and women,’ she said, ‘who also claim descent from heroes. They knew of my mother’s death and looked after me until I was old enough to look after myself. Which was not so old.’

  Cadmus didn’t need to ask who she meant. He couldn’t believe it.

  ‘The heroidai,’ he said. ‘I know them too. They brought me here. They never said anything about raising you.’

  ‘It fills them with shame. They despise our family, Cadmus. Such ancient hatred – gods above! I have no doubt they only took me in because they hoped I would reveal the secrets of the Golden Fleece. But when I was older, I showed too much of our mother in me. I started hearing the Hecate, calling to me, always calling.’ She trailed off for a moment. ‘So they cast me out again. I followed the goddess’s voice and I went to the only place I knew. I went home.’

  ‘The house drew us both back,’ said Cadmus.

  He moved to hold her hand, but when he drew up next to her the snake slithered over his arm. He yelped in surprise and jumped away from her.

  ‘What is it?’ she said.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I—’

  ‘What?’ She sounded sadder this time.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said again.

  His sister bowed her head. Cadmus stared at the sea. They may as well have been standing on opposite shores.

  XXIX

  At dawn, they saw that the waves had withdrawn, revealing an expanse of wet sand that sparkled in the sunrise. Tog was asleep and snoring. Eriopis sat upright, swaying slightly in the breeze. She was wearing her blindfold again, and it was impossible to tell if she was awake or not.

  ‘The tide has gone down,’ Tullus said quietly. ‘We should try to cross again.’

  ‘And then what?’ said Cadmus. ‘Do we have a plan?’

  ‘Well, we, ah, have to get back to Rome somehow,’ said his master. ‘The fleece can’t just stay in the house. We’ll have to fetch it and find somewhere new to hide it. Oh, dear. Dear, dear. I’m not sure I can face another month on the road.’

  ‘I’m not sure we can take the roads at all,’ said Cadmus. ‘They’ll send out word to every town. They’ll be looking for us.’

  ‘This is true,’ said Tullus, his brow collapsing into a deep frown.

  ‘And they’ll be watching your house, no doubt.’

  Tullus put his head in his hands. ‘Oh, gods. This is all such a terrible mess.’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cadmus saw Eriopis stiffen. She jerked her head in the direction of the sea.

  ‘They’re coming,’ she said.

  ‘Who?’ said Tullus. ‘Who’s coming?’

  Cadmus didn’t have to wait for the answer. He woke up Tog and started fiddling with the buckles on his saddle, his fingers numb and clumsy from the cold. He could hear the tramp of marching legionaries and the thunder of hooves. The Romans must have recaptured at least a few of their horses.

  Tog was the last to wake and the first to be ready. She jumped on top of her horse and watched the others with a look of slight impatience. By the time Cadmus had helped his sister and his master into their saddles, the single rocky path that led down to the beach was blocked with soldiers. On the cliff edge stood a pair of Nero’s giants, plate armour like jewels in the sunlight.

  ‘What do we do?’ said Tullus nervously.

  ‘Can we outrun them on the beach?’ asked Cadmus.

  Tog simply watched the assembling force, as though calculating her next move. Behind her, Eriopis continued to squirm and face the sea.

  ‘They’re coming,’ she said again.

  ‘I know,’ said Cadmus, and then softened his tone a little. Sometimes it was easy to forget she was blind. ‘They’re here. They’ve blocked the path.’

  ‘No, brother,’ she said. That word still sounded odd in Cadmus’s ears. ‘They’re carried by the waves.’

  Cadmus turned and squinted. Around the headland, cleaving the morning mist, he saw the bows of a silhouette. Orthus ran to the edge of the beach and pranced in the shallows, barking at the approaching ship. Ahead of them, the legionaries began marching down the cliff path.

  ‘Trapped,’ said Tullus miserably.

  ‘No,’ said Cadmus. ‘Wait.’

  He looked more closely at vessel. It was older than a Roman warship, and seemed in terrible condition: the timbers were so rotten and splintered they had an almost furry appearance. The sail hung in tatters from the crossbeam.

  ‘Tog,’ he said. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

  She shifted in her saddle, and her eyes widened.

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  Cadmus laughed out loud. It wasn’t part of the Roman navy. It was a Greek ship, the most famous in all of history. He could see Thoas manning the tiller and a handful of the other heroidai on the prow. Most of the crew were at the oars. The ship glided through the breakers and came to a halt a stone’s throw out to sea.

  ‘Who are they?’ asked Tullus.

  That was a difficult question, Cadmus thought, and one that he couldn’t begin to answer with ranks of Roman soldiers advancing upon him. He wasn’t even sure he could call the heroidai allies – especially now he had Eriopis with him. But they had little choice.

  ‘I’ll explain once we’re on board,’ he said.

  ‘We’re getting on that wreck?’

  ‘That wreck,’ said Cadmus, ‘is the Argo.’

  While Tullus gaped, Cadmus got down from his horse and went to help his sister. Tog stayed in her saddle.

  ‘Go,’ she said. ‘I’ll hold off the soldiers.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Go,’ she said again. ‘She is blind. He is old. You’ll be slow getting to the ship.’

  Before Cadmus could protest any further, she drew the sword she had pilfered from the Roman camp and set off up the path.

  Cadmus led his master and Eriopis to the edge of the water and they waded clumsily through the waves. Tullus cursed and sucked his teeth as the freezing water struck his midriff.

  Behind them, Tog was cutting a broad swathe through the column of men, riding back and forth with her silver-gold hair flying behind her. Even from this distance, Cadmus could see her arms were spattered with blood. Whose blood, he did not know.

  When they reached the Argo his feet were just able to touch the bottom, though the waves were over his shoulders. He hauled himself up the rope ladder, and then helped Eriopis and Tullus up after him. Orthus paddled to the prow, where he climbed on to the bronze ram and then squirmed his way up on to the deck.

  Thoas stood over Cadmus, hands on hips, apparently unconcerned by the carnage on the beach. Some of the soldiers had come past Tog, and were running across the sand towards the ship.

  ‘Do you have it?’ Thoas said.

  Cadmus was shivering so hard he thought his teeth would shatter. ‘What?’

  ‘Do you have the fleece?’

  ‘No.’

  The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘Zeus strike you down . . .’

  ‘But we know where it is. It’s not here. You have to take us back to Rome.’

  ‘Rome?’

  ‘Yes. I can explain.’

  ‘Swear an oath.’

  ‘I swear,’ he said, getting to his feet, ‘by all the gods above and below. I can get it.’

  Thoas looked at him a moment longer and then shouted his orders.

  ‘To the oars, men.’
/>   ‘No!’ shouted Cadmus. ‘My friend is still on the beach!’

  ‘There is no time. She has made her choice. Heave!’

  The deck shifted beneath their feet and Cadmus saw the oars churn the seawater to a murky brown.

  ‘Stop! You’ve got to wait for her!’

  Thoas returned to the tiller. Cadmus ran to the edge of the ship.

  ‘Tog!’ he screamed.

  But she couldn’t hear him, and she was too far away to make it back to ship in time.

  As the Argo turned and made its way out into the open water, the soldiers dragged Tog from her horse. Cadmus saw one last, wild flick of her hair, and then she was surrounded by bodies. He kept staring as the shore receded, but even if she had reappeared he wouldn’t have seen her through the blur of his tears.

  Once they were under sail, Tullus suggested they all go below decks to get out of the wind and rain. Eriopis insisted she wanted to remain on deck, despite the mutterings of the crew, so they left her with Orthus. She cut a miserable figure on the prow, shunned by the other sailors. Cadmus thought about staying with her, but he was so cold he worried he might succumb to fever.

  He and his master huddled on one of the rowers’ benches and listened to the wind howling overhead. The hull still let water in, which the heroidai would occasionally have to bail out.

  ‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ said Tullus.

  Cadmus just nodded.

  ‘I know you are furious with me,’ he said. ‘None of this would have happened if I had told you earlier. I am a fool.’

  The flame of Cadmus’s anger had long since been doused.

  ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you have nothing to apologize for. You saved me. You raised me. And everything you have done since was done to keep me safe.’ He paused and shivered. ‘Besides, I probably wouldn’t have believed you if you’d just sat me down and told me I was the heir of the Golden Fleece over dinner.’

  ‘That much is true, I suppose,’ said Tullus, smiling sadly. ‘I still find it hard to believe. And yet, here we are. On the Argo itself. Grey-eyed Minerva, protect me.’

  He looked around the leaking hull, marvelling at the paintings of Jason and the Argonauts, now faded and water-stained. Cadmus told him of how he and Tog had found it, of the heroidai, of their journey to Mona.

  ‘She sounds an extraordinary soul,’ said Tullus. ‘She deserved better.’

  Cadmus swallowed down the urge to cry. Endure, he thought. But that only reminded him of Tog and brought the tears back more fiercely.

  While Tullus comforted him, Thoas came down the steps into the bowels of the ship. He stood in front of them awkwardly for a moment, and then offered them a flask of wine.

  ‘Drink,’ he said. ‘It will lift your spirits.’

  To Cadmus’s surprise, it did make him feel better. His fingers and toes were still frozen, but it warmed his heart and belly.

  ‘You should not have brought her with you,’ said Thoas.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The witch,’ said Thoas. ‘She is an ill omen. The men think she will betray us. Be thankful I have not thrown her overboard.’

  Whether it was the grief of losing Tog, or a gradual coming to terms with last night’s revelations, Cadmus suddenly felt fiercely protective of her.

  ‘She is not an ill omen,’ he said. ‘She is descended from heroes, just as much as you are. And she is my sister.’

  He tried the word for size and found it more comfortable in his mouth than he’d expected. Thoas looked unmoved. Bored, even.

  ‘I know this,’ he said. ‘Some of the men would like me to throw you overboard too. In fact, some wanted you killed the moment they saw you. So that’s twice you have to thank me.’

  ‘You knew?’ said Cadmus. ‘How?’

  ‘Your eyes. You have Medea’s blood in your veins. I saw it as soon as we met, but I decided to trust you. It has been a long time since Medea’s line produced any male offspring. I thought you might be more trustworthy for that reason.’

  Cadmus clenched his cold fists.

  ‘You knew, and you didn’t say anything . . .’

  ‘Why would I? You seemed not to know, and if we had told you, you might have got it into your head that the fleece was your inheritance. You might have sided with your family name against us.’ He came closer and bent down. ‘But know this, boy: the Golden Fleece belongs with us. With Jason’s pure bloodline. Not the poisonous offspring he made with Medea.’

  Cadmus stood up and looked the man squarely in the face.

  ‘Then why haven’t you thrown us overboard?’ he said.

  Tullus made a gurgling noise as though he were about to intervene, but seemed to not be able to find the words.

  ‘Because—’

  ‘Because you need us,’ Cadmus interrupted. ‘You always needed us. Just like Jason needed Medea. He wouldn’t have been anything without her.’

  Thoas bared his teeth.

  ‘The gods will punish you for this sacrilege!’ he said.

  Cadmus laughed out loud. ‘Will they indeed? Have they not punished me enough already? I have lost my mother, my home, and the only friend I ever had. The emperor of the known world wants me dead. I don’t know what else the gods can do to me.’

  ‘You do not know real suffering, boy.’

  ‘You don’t need to threaten me,’ Cadmus said. ‘I will get you the fleece, and I will gladly hand it over to you. It’s a curse, not a blessing. Perhaps being rid of it will bring some good luck to my poisonous family.’

  With that he pushed past the bemused Thoas and went up on deck. There he found his sister, looking blindly into the salt spray. He put his arm around her, and the sailors looked at them from the corners of their eyes.

  XXX

  After that Cadmus hardly spoke to anyone apart from Eriopis. Tullus was generally too seasick to hold a conversation, and the heroidai ignored them. He learnt a little more from his sister every day. He learnt she was a full four years older than him; he had been one year old when the fire had happened; she had no knowledge of their father, since it was traditional among Medea’s descendants to not take a husband. Born out of an ancient fear of betrayal, Cadmus guessed.

  He also found out his real name. Cadmus was the name Tullus had given to him, borrowed from the hero who brought the written word to Greece. It seemed fitting for a young scholar, his master had said. But his mother had called him Medus. Son of Medea.

  Despite the Argo’s ruined state, it still made as good a time as it had on the outward journey. Summer was approaching, and the weather was calmer. After a month at sea, they found themselves skirting the bay of Naples, close enough to see the rows of vines on Mount Vesuvius. They eventually made port at Antium, some eighty miles south of Rome.

  As they pulled into the harbour, Thoas found Cadmus and spoke to him for the first time in weeks.

  ‘You and your sister will stay on the ship when we go into the city. Thestor has foreseen a betrayal, so the heroidai will go to fetch the fleece alone.’

  Cadmus gave a tired smile. ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t want to jeopardize the mission. I hope Fortune smiles upon you.’

  ‘You mock me.’

  ‘I do nothing of the sort. I wish you every success.’

  Thoas left him and gathered a group of six men. They stood at the foot of the gangplank, talking. Cadmus waited. Thoas returned.

  ‘Now,’ he said, ‘where is the Golden Fleece kept?’

  ‘Oh,’ said Cadmus innocently, ‘do you need me to tell you?’

  ‘Do not test me.’

  ‘Very well. Our house is on the Caelian Hill.’

  A pause.

  ‘Where is this hill?’

  ‘It’s easy to find. If you’re coming through the Porta Lavernalis, go past the temple of the Good Goddess and it’s east of the Palatine.’

  He could see Thoas was trying hard to hide his confusion.

  ‘Where on this hill is the house?’

  ‘We’re next
door to Pollianus.’ He paused again to enjoy Thoas’s expression. ‘You can always just ask for directions from one of Tullus’s neighbours. You speak Latin, don’t you? They’re a snobbish lot, I’m not sure you’ll get on their good side if you ask them in Greek.’

  ‘You know very well that we will not speak that barbarian tongue.’

  Cadmus made a theatrical frown. ‘It sounds to me,’ he said, ‘like you and your men might not be the best people for the job. And, judging by the reaction to our arrival here, I’d say you’re hardly going to slip in and out of Rome unnoticed. Everyone will be talking about you. What happens when Nero finds out you have the fleece and sends his legions to destroy you?’

  ‘He’ll never find us.’

  ‘Of course he will. Do you think I’ll keep silent under torture? Or Tullus, for that matter?’

  Tullus suddenly appeared on the deck again.

  ‘Hm? Torture?’ he said.

  ‘Listen,’ said Cadmus. ‘I have already said I’m not going to keep the fleece for myself. Let me and my master go to Rome alone. We won’t arouse suspicion. We can be there and back in a matter of days.’

  Thoas stared at him. The rest of the heroidai muttered among themselves.

  ‘Swear an oath,’ Thoas said. ‘In the sight of the gods.’

  ‘I swear,’ said Cadmus. ‘I will bring the fleece straight back here.’

  ‘And the witch will stay on the boat?’

  Cadmus felt a small spark of anger at his dismissive tone, but nodded.

  ‘She would only draw attention to us,’ he said.

  Again the heroidai spoke among themselves in low voices. Thoas eventually turned back to him.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘But if you have not returned in three days, we will pursue you.’

  ‘If I have not returned within three days, may Zeus strike me down to the deepest pits of Tartarus.’

  That seemed to satisfy them. While his master hovered, Cadmus went looking for his sister. He found her below decks, looking like a bundle of dirty washing piled up in the corner. She was talking to Orthus. Cadmus came and laid a hand on her shoulder.