Page 21 of Crown of Serpents (Curse of Olympus #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Zeus strike me down!” Perseus grumbled as he stepped back on deck. It was a fine day, a warm breeze carrying them swiftly through the water, but the weather didn’t brighten his mood.
His groin still ached from his most recent encounter with Medusa. Even blindfolded, shackled, and severely injured, she had gotten the better of him. He had known that once he set foot inside her cell, she would try something. He had been ready for it, or at least so he had thought. The gorgon had tackled him with the strength of a man twice the size of Kleos.
Perseus shook his head. That woman would be the death of him — or at least of his sanity. His thoughts had not stopped racing since he had brought her on board. Whenever he thought he had uncovered the monster hiding beneath her beautiful skin, she did something so utterly mortal and made him question everything.
Hades , she promised to shred him to bloody ribbons and feast on his blood. However, moments later, when he trapped her beneath him, she seemed so … desperate, writhing to escape his grasp. She had not seemed monstrous then but rather like a frightened girl trying to flee her captor.
A pit grew in Perseus’s stomach. What if he was the monster and not her?
Medusa's words echoed in his mind: I can assure you that I have never murdered an innocent man .
Could this be true? The gorgon had slain countless men. Perseus had seen the statues in Cisthene with his own eyes. Yet, they had chased after her to hunt her down — just like Perseus and his crew had done.
Perseus sighed, burying his face in his palm. What was he supposed to do?
A sudden gust of wind blew across his darkened face as if to pull him from his spiralling thoughts. He glanced up, scanning the horizon. Clear skies, sails billowing in the wind propelling them forward, men sprawled across the deck, laughing and drinking instead of manning the oars. It was a surprisingly peaceful sight. Perhaps Kleos had been exaggerating about the threat of mutiny. They all seemed content enough. They had, after all, captured one of the most feared beings known to man and god. There was definitely cause for celebration. Of course, Kleos led this merry band of day drinkers.
Perseus approached the sailors at the galley’s bow. A grin spread across his lips as he heard Kleos’s bellowing laughter.
“What’s going on here?” Perseus asked Mikis.
The young sailor snapped to attention, his pale eyes widening. “N-nothing, Sir, we were just — uhm — we’ll get right back to work.”
Before Mikis could flee, a handsome man with warm eyes and a freckled nose clasped him on the shoulder. “Relax, Mikis! I don’t think that’s what Perseus meant.”
Perseus smiled. “I was just curious what idiotic bet Kleos made to initiate all this —” He gestured at the sailors lounging in the sun, guzzling the barrels of cheap wine they had loaded in Cisthene. Some were singing, others deep in conversation, but most were gathered around Kleos and a dark-skinned man, currently engaged in an arm-wrestling match .
“Oh, that? Kleos wagered that he could cut the stem off an apple with his broadsword”, the friendly sailor explained. With his freckled golden skin and soft smile, he was just Kleos’s type, Perseus noted. Yet, the man’s eyes were fixated on Kleos’s broad-shouldered opponent with the broody eyes — not his friend.
“And?”
“He completely obliterated the apple, which led to him drinking as punishment, and then he roped everyone else in.”
“That moron,” Perseus chuckled, shaking his head. “So how did they get to arm-wrestling after that?”
A dreamy smile spread across the sailor’s face, brushing a chestnut curl from his eyes, “Well, the other dimwit over there, Meliton, was convinced that he could do better, and now … well … we ran out of apples, so they started arm-wrestling to continue their dick-measuring contest.”
The sailor’s amber eyes sparkled as he studied the man losing against Kleos in arm wrestling once more. Then he asked, “Will you join us, Perseus?”
“Sure, I could use some mindless drunkenness.”
Maybe that would keep his mind from circling back to Medusa.
“My name is Elias.” The sailor extended his arm.
Perseus shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Elias.”
The hours passed in a blur as Perseus talked and listened to the sailors, putting names to the faces that had cautiously observed him during the past weeks. As the sun dipped lower, another barrel of wine was breached. Perseus was not much of a drinker, disliking how it dulled his senses. However, he did enjoy the stories that grew more preposterous as the booze flowed freely. He now understood Kleos’s fondness for Orestes, the veteran farmer and captivating storyteller.
Just then, he told a particularly amusing tale about a wild bull that had tried to impale a thief who wanted to steal his grain. “That beast was absolutely useless for ploughing. He would always buck and try to chase the cart behind him. But give him a moving target … and well … he chased that poor lad all over the field until he drove him up a tree. Hades , it almost impaled me when I found the thief sitting there the next morning. Still, I can’t wait to see that stupid beast again when we finally return home!”
The group erupted in laughter, and Orestes’s wrinkled face split wide in a crooked grin.
“I hear that,” Atticus, the grim-looking first mate, added, “I can’t wait to see my beast of a wife again — even though she regularly tries to poison me.”
Kleos spat out his drink. “She what?”
“Oh yeah, she likes to put funny mushrooms in my stew. It’s nothing too serious, though … the worst thing that happened to me was me shitting myself.”
“But why?” Somebody asked, and Perseus leaned in. He wanted to know the same thing.
Atticus’s hawkish face grew serious. “I deserve it, honestly. I cheated on her when I was young and stupid. My wife broke my nose when she found out and hasn’t forgiven me since.”
“Why were you unfaithful?” Perseus asked with genuine curiosity.
Before Atticus could answer, Linus, who had just plopped down in the circle, interjected, “Because he’s a man, Perseus! How can we not have a taste of all the beautiful women that cross our path?”
The group cheered, and Linus poured himself a drink while sneering at him. Next to Perseus, Elias muttered beneath his breath, his eyes lingering on Meliton, “Not all men are like that.”
Atticus raised his voice again, his face still contorted in shame, “I cheated on my wife because I was greedy and lacked self-control … it was the biggest mistake I ever made, and I’ll spend the rest of my miserable life begging Aneka for forgiveness. I can’t wait to return home to her and her poisoned stew.”
The crew fell silent, exchanging a few rueful glances. To Perseus’s surprise, it was Mikis who broke the silence, “I can’t wait to see my baby nephew again. My sister had him a year ago, so I’m sure he’ll be walking when I return.”
Soon, they each shared what they missed most about Seriphos and what they would do once they returned to the island.
Finally, Elias asked, turning to Perseus with a wink, “What about you, Perseus? Surely someone is waiting at home for a lad as handsome as you.”
Perseus felt the weight of everyone's eyes upon him, their faces etched with curiosity — all except for Meliton, who shot him a direct glare. Kleos wiggled his eyebrows tauntingly.
Perseus sighed, “The only ones waiting for me are my mother and the old fisherman who found us when we were stranded on Seriphos’s shore many years ago.”
“Such a momma’s boy,” Kleos teased.
Perseus shot him a glare, but there was no use denying it. He was closer to Danae than most men were to their mothers. He shrugged, “I guess.”
“Damn, Perseus, you’re not even going to deny it?” Kleos pressed on, clearly not done with embarrassing him in front of the crew.
“What’s the point? Danae is why I went on this journey in the first place, after all.”
Orestes’s head snapped to him. “What do you mean?”
“I made a bargain with Polydectes to protect her. We could not pay the tithe in full this year, and our king demanded my mother become his mistress in compensation. He had pursued her for a while, so I offered to slay the gorgon … well … so she would be free.”
A wave of confused murmurs rippled through the sailors, but Elias's face twisted with disgust.
Linus sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Maybe you should have worked harder if you didn’t want your mommy to become our king’s whore. It’s Polydectes’s right to demand compensation for your failure to pay the tithe.”
Perseus balled his fists, suppressing the surge of power within him. Linus was not worth his time.
Orestes seemed to agree as he ignored the epetae’s jab and leaned forward, his rich brown eyes shining with compassion. “You and I are the same then, Perseus. I, too, am indebted to Polydectes. I served this kingdom my entire life as a soldier and became a farmer only after my body was battered from decades of fighting under his banner. Still, he demands the sixty drachmae every year — even though I have no family, no sons, to help me tend to my farmland. With the crops I manage to grow each year, I am hardly able to feed myself.”
A silent understanding passed between Perseus and the veteran, like an invisible thread weaving them together. He smiled at the old man, a shared burden easing the weight on his shoulders. Perseus was not the only one forced on this journey by Polydectes’s greed. The realisation brought a bittersweet mix of relief and dread. Relief, because he wasn't solely responsible for the lives of his crew. Dread, because their livelihoods now hinged on his success in slaying the gorgon locked away in the brig.
Atticus cleared his throat, “If I may be so bold to ask you, boy, why haven’t you killed Medusa then? If you went on this journey to save your mother, why don’t you end the creature’s miserable life and fulfil your end of the bargain?”
A tight knot twisted in Perseus’s stomach as he met Atticus’s probing gaze. The hair on his neck prickled as he felt the other men's stares burning into him. The first mate's question had seemingly jolted them to sobriety, their collective breath held in anticipation of his answer. It was clear that no one understood why he had spared the legendary monster they had captured. Kleos's knowing look spoke volumes: I told you so .
Perseus opened his mouth, struggling for words. How could he voice his reservations about killing her when he didn’t understand them himself?
Get away from me . Her shrill voice echoed in his head. She had been so afraid when he had pinned Medusa down to stop her attack. Had she truly only killed in self-defence?
Without another word, Perseus surged to his feet and strode toward the sanctuary of his cabin, leaving the bewildered whispers of his crew echoing in his wake.
He needed to figure out what to do with his prisoner. The crew would not wait for his answer forever.