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fade. Your life, a good one to be sure, begins again this day.”
Ariston listened quietly, waiting to help them from the wagon he’d found on their way. One horse amongst five people did little good. And since most of the villages were deserted or destroyed, taking their horses was hardly stealing. His actions saved them from starving in their untended pastures and stalls. Finding the wagon had been a greater blessing still.
Euryale took his hand, stepping down from the wagon with care. “If any harm comes to the boy or the babe, I will find Xenia and—”
“No harm will come upon them,” Ariston assured her. “They will have a home, food, and love. What more does a child need?”
“I know your heart is heavy at leaving them, sister, but it is the only way,” Stheno said as she joined Euryale on the dock.
“Shall we stay and wave you off?” Spiridion asked from the wagon.
Euryale shook her head quickly. “No.”
“On your way, boy. Serve Xenia well, serve the Gods,” Stheno added.
Ariston studied them, their long dark veils covering their faces. “I thank you for the care you gave Medusa. I would repay you…”
Stheno moved forward. “She was our sister, Ariston. And we loved her too.”
Euryale said nothing.
Ariston nodded, then climbed into the wagon. He said nothing more as he urged the wagon forward.
Spiridion climbed up onto the seat beside him, leaving the sleeping baby carefully arranged upon mats in the wagon bed.
“Will they like us, Ariston?” Spiridion asked.
“I know little of Xenia, except what my lady told me.” He took a deep breath. “Lady Xenia chose to love her as a daughter, even though she was a slave. Xenia’s heart, I think, will welcome you and Kore. Her husband was lost during the invasion. I imagine she is lonely.”
“Stheno told me,” Spiridion said.
Ariston nodded, feeling sympathy for the woman.
“She must miss him. As you miss Medusa.” The boy’s words were soft. “I loved your wife, too, Ariston. She was so beautiful, even with the scars. But she was so sad. Was she missing you?”
Ariston could think of nothing to say. That she’d been sad, that her injuries had scarred her, and yet this boy had offered her love when she needed it most – he could say nothing. He smiled at the boy, thankful he’d found her.
“I think Euryale will miss Kore the most,” the boy continued.
“Why is that?”
“Kore would cry,” Spiridion explained. “And since Medusa could not hold her, she begged Euryale to comfort her. Medusa pleaded and wept until Euryale picked Kore up. As soon as Euryale held Kore, she stopped crying. Kore made Euryale forget to be fearsome.” He paused. “I think Medusa knew that and wanted her sister to have joy.”
“She was a wise and loving lady.” Ariston felt the lump in his throat.
“She is…was.” Spiridion stuttered, then mumbled, “She was.”
They fell into silence as they navigated the newly packed streets. Some stopped and watched with interest, others waved or nodded in general greeting.
He felt trapped, the rising walls of the houses sealing him inside. He missed the open roads and blooming hillsides. He missed the open air and the view of the sea, its blue-green depths sparkling in the sun.
He missed a great deal.
At the gates to Xenia’s home, Ariston left the wagon and horses with Xenia’s servant and led Spiridion through the gates. The boy hefted his sleeping sister with ease, refusing to relinquish her in this time of uncertainty.
Ariston watched him, admiring the boy silently.
“Ariston, you are most welcome,” Elpis greeted him with a warm smile.
