Xenia saw the look of longing on his face, the way Ariston’s grey eyes narrowed, once more searching the tree. “I bid you good night, then,” she murmured.
Chapter Three
“The city is alive, full of promise and hope.” Ariston’s voice was low, meant for the boy taking in the comings and goings of the busy market place. “There is work still to be done, to return Athens to glory. Each citizen must aid in her growth, and protection.”
The boy shifted on the bench, turning this way and that as some new diversion entered the marketplace. “Protection? From another invasion?”
He shook his head. The boy had no reason to fear invasion. But he was old enough to learn more about the way of this world. “No, not now. Greece is fueled by outrage, none would dare attempt such a thing now.” He winked at the boy, nodding at him. “You’ve a keen mind. I see you watching, listening to the lady Xenia and her guests.”
Spiridion looked nervous. “I’m sorry-”
“Do not be,” Ariston leaned against the wall at their back. “Tell me, what have you
learned?”
“Farming.” He glanced at Ariston, who nodded his encouragement. “The weather has turned, growing colder.”
“And?” Ariston asked.
“I heard on elder say food stores were short.”
“What have they proposed to do about it?” Ariston asked.
“Offer the Gods more tributes,” the boy said.
Ariston shook his head. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He smiled when Spiridion did as he. “What say you to this idea?”
Spiridion looked at him. “It is right, to ask the Gods for help.”
Ariston nodded, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
“But should they not seek new fields?” Spiridion asked. “Or barter with those beyond our borders? Lady Xenia says we have many allies-”
Ariston laughed.
Spiridion smiled.
“A keen mind.” Ariston shook his head, sighing. “Yes, Spiridion, that is what they should do. But will they? We shall see.”
“Why are the crops dying, Ariston?”
“I have no answer.” He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Greece is a fertile land. To hear it withers away, not just Athens but all across our fair country, is troubling. That the sun hides…”
“Have we offended the Gods?” Spiridion asked.
“Take care,” he murmured. “I fear they are easy to offend. That our fates are so intertwined with those with the temperament of a babe-” he bit off, glancing at the boy. “Live well, Spiridion. Be an honorable man, and the Gods will never turn from you.” He tasted the bitterness of his words but knew tainting this boy against the Gods would likely damn him for life. No matter how he reviled the Olympians, Ariston wished this boy could live ever in their favor. He was smart, his frame promised he’d grow tall and strong. He would serve Greece well.
The boy looked thoughtful. “When will we go home, Ariston? To Rhodes?”
“Or I may sail, with Elpis, to Rhodes and wait for you there?” Medusa’s voice, her bright eyes appeared before him. They stood, tangled together on their beach, preparing for the parting they knew they’d face. They’d thought it was only the Persians that separated them. If he’d known it was Olympus itself, he would never have sailed away from her. His own words echoed in his ears, “I am favored by the Gods, my lady, to have you.”
“As I am, to have you as my lord and husband.” She’d answered, her love as real as the air he pulled into his lungs. He could feel her velvet fingertips brush along his jaw. Oh to capture her hand, to anchor it against him…
He pressed his hands together, fighting the roar that rose in his throat.
“Ariston?” Spiridion asked.
He’d grown used to the pain. It was his constant companion. But not to think of her, to let her fade, was worse. He could not lose her again. He welcomed the pain. It was work, living and breathing each day. But he did so for her, for this boy that she’d loved and asked him to care for. He cleared his throat. “You’ve had enough of Athens already?”