Page 47 of Crown of Serpents (Curse of Olympus #1)
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Medusa stood on deck, her emerald hair flying in the wind. Andromeda huddled beside her, shivering and cursing the cold northern gales. After a week at sea, Perseus was finally training the crew for their plan to overthrow Polydectes. Her eyes followed the warrior, tracing his determined gaze, his flexed jaw.
The wind carried his scent, thyme and leather, reminding her of how his kisses had set her skin on fire a few nights ago. Perseus had held her afterwards until her tears had dried, and she fell asleep. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable in his embrace, but he had snuck out once dawn had crested the horizon. They had set sail that morning, and Perseus had kept his distance since. Occasionally, she caught him glancing in her direction, longing burning in his hazel eyes.
Was he avoiding her? Her stomach tightened. Had her panic attack frightened him more than he'd let on? Or was it the relentless autumn storms? Ever since Rhodos, the sea seemed to battle them. The wind had changed direction, and the sails, once billowing gracefully, were now taut and strained, fighting against the relentless gusts that pushed them off course. Waves crashed against the hull, rocking the ship back and forth, so small compared to the endless expanse of the Aegean Sea. It was as if the elements trying to prevent them from returning to Seriphos.
Time was running against them. They needed to reach the island before the equinox — and before word reached Polydectes. If Linus had survived and returned to Seriphos before them, their ambush would fail.
So, Perseus and his crew rowed relentlessly, day and night, tacking against the wind. Each inch was a struggle, the strain evident in the dark circles under Perseus's eyes.
Now, he stood at the centre of the ship, a gleaming sword in hand. Today was the first day the sun had appeared between the brooding clouds, its warmth casting a golden hue over the deck.
“Men,” Perseus began, addressing the gathered crew. His eyes scanned the crowd until they met hers, and he added, “And ladies, of course. We are headed for Seriphos, where we plan to seize the palace. I will not lie to you … that won’t be easy. Polydectes’s guards are well-trained, while many of you have never held a sword. But we will change that today. Orestes, Kleos, and I will whip you into shape, so we are a worthy match!”
The sailors exchanged wary glances. Orestes smiled grimly, worry clouding his gaze. Only Kleos seemed at ease, casually swinging his weapon. Medusa rolled her eyes when she noticed how he began flexing his muscles when Andromeda glanced in his direction — lovesick fool.
“To demonstrate, I need a volunteer.”
Before anyone else could, Medusa stepped into the circle. “I’ll spar with you, Perseus. Let’s see if you can still teach me something.”
A seductive smile curved her lips. He couldn’t avoid her now.
He cocked his head, “Confident in your sword fighting, are you?”
“I am.”
“And I thought you preferred hand-to-hand combat. ”
“I’m a woman of many talents.” Medusa shrugged as she walked over to where Kleos stood. She reached for his sword. “You don’t mind, do you?”
He glowered at her, grinding his teeth, but handed her his weapon. Medusa had to stop grinning because Andromeda shot her a warning glance.
They began circling each other, swords gleaming. Kleos’s blade was heavy and unbalanced in her hand, but Medusa kept her eyes fixed on her opponent. She studied Perseus’s fluid movements, searching for any signs of weakness, embracing the predator crawling beneath her skin. Unlike the unfamiliar sword, this felt natural.
“Taking in your opponent is essential,” Perseus explained, never breaking eye contact. “Study them, wait for an opening. Search for past injuries. For example, Medusa—”
He lunged, swiping at her healing leg. She parried, sparks flying.
“—has an injured leg. If I wanted to hurt her, I would press that weakness.”
She could feel the eyes of the crew upon them while they sparred. The world narrowed to the rhythm of their dance, the clang of bronze on bronze, the push and pull. She twirled and ducked, growing familiar with the heavy weapon with each strike. He noticed her gained confidence, loosening his restraint. The approval in his eyes sent her heart skittering.
“Your blade is an extension of your body,” he continued, “use your weight to increase your strength.“
To demonstrate, Perseus stabbed for her side, forcing Medusa to sidestep, only to slice down with his blade with such force her knees buckled. She gritted her teeth, using her second hand to keep his sword away from her throat, but he was stronger. A cocky smirk spread on his face, and he winked at her. Medusa snarled, rolling out of the way as his blade crashed into the deck.
She was not used to her opponents being stronger than her, but with the blood of Zeus flowing through his veins, Perseus rivalled her power. It rankled.
Medusa launched her attack, a series of quick jabs that drove Perseus back toward the railway. The crew scrambled out of their way as Medusa cornered him. For a few seconds, she tasted victory.
Then, he suddenly closed the distance between them, robbing her of her breath and pinning her sword with his. Before she could react, he twisted her arm, sending her sword clattering to the ground.
He chuckled, his face hovering close to hers, “Now, this … is how you can disarm your opponent with a few easy movements. See, Medusa, I taught you something after all.”
Blood rushed to Medusa’s cheeks, and the crew cheered. She had had enough. When Perseus turned to leave back to the centre of the deck, Medusa kicked the blade out of his hands. For a moment, Perseus looked confused before amusement sparkled in his eyes. She flung his fist at him, and he ducked away with ease, neither bothering to pick up their weapons. Medusa swiped for his feet, but he sidestepped her again. Frustrated, she lunged. He caught her, twisting her arm, pressing her back against him.
With an arm around her neck, Perseus murmured into her ear, “You do seem eager to learn.”
She forced herself to look into his eyes, her veil the only barrier between them and smiled sweetly. He immediately slackened. As his gaze flickered to her lips, she hurled him over her shoulder. He slammed into the deck. She straddled him, pinning his arms. She hissed, digging her nails in. “No, godling, the only thing I'm eager for ... is to put you in your place.”
They glared at each other for a few seconds, panting.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air until Kleos stepped forward, grinning. “Alright … Final lesson for today — don't get distracted by flirting with your opponent. Thanks for demonstrating, Perseus!”
Elias chuckled, sharing a conspiratory grin with the broad-shouldered named Meliton, whose usually broody eyes lit up with amusement. “Wouldn’t be the first time that’s landed me on my back.”
The men erupted in laughter.
Only then did Medusa notice how close her and Perseus’ bodies had been, their breaths mingling between their faces. Memories of the shared night bubbled up in her mind. She averted her face, blushing, but Perseus joined the crew, his laugh warming something within her. He scrambled to his feet, offering his hand to help her up as well. She reluctantly accepted, leaning into his touch as he steadied her.
“Well,” Perseus said, catching his breath. “Let’s practice. Grab your weapon and partner up. Try simple jabs and blocking first, and remember to use your body weight. Later, I’ll show you that disarming technique again.”
The sailors buzzed with activity, pairing off. Only Medusa, Perseus, and Andromeda remained. The princess hesitated, then asked quietly, “Can I learn as well? I would like to defend myself before reaching Seriphos.”
A few men turned in surprise.
Medusa nodded, but before she could step forward, Kleos intercepted, offering Andromeda a dagger with an ornate hilt. “I will train you if you let me,” he said. “You can use my dagger. It will be faster and easier to conceal in the folds of your skirt.” He waited, holding his breath, then placed the weapon in Andromeda’s hands after she nodded in approval. He turned to Medusa, sneering. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Medusa balled her fists — insufferable man. Yet, she bit her tongue when she saw Andromeda’s face light up as she beheld the dagger in her hand. Its slim shaft was bronze, gilded leaves, and flowers twirled around the hilt.
“Let them,” Perseus said behind her, gently tugging on her arm, “I have some advanced moves that I want to teach you … alone.”
Medusa’s stomach fluttered, but she raised an eyebrow, “Teach me? Last time I checked, I just bested you.”
“Only because you cheated,” he countered, both an admission and a challenge. He picked up their discarded swords, handing her one.
“I didn’t realise there were rules in sword fighting.”
“There aren’t. I’ll remind you of that later,” he said with a wicked grin, charging at her with impossible speed, blade raised high.