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gods."
Triton suddenly put in: "Circe, more of my memory's coming back."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I now recall something of what our agreement, yours and mine, must
actually have been about."
"So now you are going to tell me what you think it was."
"Yes I am. You told me that our side, the side of the great gods who fight
the
Giants, must have the Fleece, that it would somehow be of enormous value to
them
in the war. 'Our allies in their secret workshops' is how you put it, now
that I
recall.
"You and I agreed that I should disguise my divinity and join the Argonauts.
My
avatar before this one was, like this one, a sailor among other things. Our
hope, yours and mine, was that the Giant who watched over the Fleece might
not
be on his guard if I approached him as only one of a group of common sailors.
If
he thought me no more than human, I could take him by surprise, get near
enough
to kill him before he realized the truth, then snatch away the prize."
"Very good, Master Triton." Now Circe's attitude seemed that of a
schoolmistress
grilling a difficult but promising student. "And what else do you remember?"
Slowly he shook his head. "Only that it seems to me I could have done as much
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without your help. What was I, Triton, supposed to get in return when I
brought
you back the Fleece?"
"That may come back to you someday. Let me know if it does." There seemed a
hint
of the demonic in her smile.
"There is one other point. If Zeus and Apollo want the Fleece, why should
they
not simply have gone to Colchis and taken it? Who could oppose them?" But
even
as he asked the question, the answer was there in his recovering memory.
"Oh. Giants, of course." Zeus and Apollo had feared to go to the grove in
Colchis, because they knew it was guarded by a Giant who lay in ambush, ready
to
destroy their memories as soon as they came in sight.
Circe was saying: "Even the great gods have their weaknesses, and sometimes
they
even behave like idiots. But I am on their side in this; I have no wish to
see
the whole world ruled by Giants."
And she snapped her fingers sharply, once, and the walls of the stone house
disappeared from around them, and the five people were all now sitting in
chairs
at the inner edge of a broad beach, with gentle surf a hundred feet away. In
the
distance Proteus could see the drawn-up Argo, and most of her crew busying
themselves around her.
Once more Circe snapped her fingers, and the heads of three mortals rose from
dreaming slumber, and their eyes came open. And Circe held out an imperious
hand
to Jason.
"Now bring me the Fleece!"
EIGHTEEN
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Waves
Jason stood up from the chair in which he had been sleeping, drawing his
clenched fists close in front of his body, as if the Fleece were in them. But
he
was wearing only a loincloth and sandals at the moment, and obviously the
treasure was somewhere else. If he was astonished by the disappearance of the
house, his face did not betray the fact.
When he spoke, his voice held raw defiance.
"That treasure is mine, my lady Circe. I will not surrender it, even to you.
The
crown that was stolen from my family must be restored "
The lady put on the manner of a nursemaid, dealing with a noisy child. "Cease
your babbling and bring me the Golden Fleece at once. Unless you want to lose
much more than a mere chance at a crown." And she flicked the fingers of one
hand in a gesture of dismissal.
Even as the enchantress spoke, Medea stood up from her chair too. Now the
princess looked as if she might even be able to defy her aunt. She had heard
the
threat and was afraid for Jason, and seemed determined to drag him away from
Circe before he met some truly terrible fate.
Meanwhile the princess was pleading for the man she loved. "Forgive him, Aunt
Circe! He doesn't know what he's talking about. If you really must have the
Fleece, I'm sure that something can be worked out . . ."
Circe only glared at her niece imperiously. Then, as if struck by a sudden
suspicion, Circe lunged forward and seized her by her dress, the upper part
of
which she pulled violently aside. Circe stared intently at the skin between
the
firm young breasts, then spun the girl around, as if she were weightless, and
inspected the corresponding location on her back.
Then she turned to once more confront Proteus/Triton. "Suppose you tell me,
little sailor, did you see anything of Eros in the course of your journey?
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Perhaps when you were at Aeetes's court?"
Proteus/Triton saw no reason to aid the enchantress in her discoveries. He
tried
to sound obtuse. "The god Eros?"
The voice of Circe crackled. "Do you know of any mortal human going by that
name? I certainly do not." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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