《Medusa and the blind woman》Chapter 12: Medusa and the drunkard
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Holding true to her words, Medusa procured the coal from below her lair and carried it to the boat construction site. She dropped it there without a word and left. With that her part of the trade was fulfilled and she had no more reason to stick around. As she left, the girl called out to the merchant to come out of the tent. He had been hiding from her eyes the moment he saw her approach.
“There is so much! It’s enough, right?” The priestess asked excitedly.
“I’m no Hephaestus, but this ought to be enough for our purposes. Just need to test it out on some smaller stuff first.”
They were quick about it and started their work almost immediately. Medusa had her back turned to their activities, but she could hear it very well. They were piling up the wood and coal in the ruins of the temple under some contraption she did not understand. The fanning of the fire, the dropping of fabric as the heat rose and the amateur blacksmith took off his clothes. The screeching of metal over rock all echoed inside the barely roofed space. The heat could not escape so easily in the walled space as it would have outside.
“It’s so hot. Warmer than anything I ever felt. Worse than the hearth at home.” Eugenia said while wiping sweat from her face. She had pulled her layered garments off and was only wearing some thin linen now.
“Don’t inhale the smoke or you’ll be coughing for days.” He warned her and adjusted the flames.
The Gorgon slithered over the steps and then leaned back, watching their work from afar. From this distance it was impossible for her to meet eyes with the merchant. It was needless to worry about such things when he was so absorbed in his work, but she had made a promise.
The man was dark skinned from countless months in the burning sun, but he still was covered in sweat in the blink of an eye. Eugenia stood back only fanning the flames and handing him the old tools to be molten in the carved rock forms, but her clothes were soaked in sweat before long as well.
Unlike the merchant’s, her skin was still just slightly tanned and her constitution was not fit for such grueling work. Medusa glanced across her sweat covered neck and the tied up hair. No matter how many times she watched her work to her bones for some goal that wasn’t her own, she could not tell when the girl would approach her limit. There seemed to be a source of infinite energy inside her. She was glistening, shining and somehow hard to tear her gaze away from.
Watching this work, similar to a spinning wheel, was oddly entrancing. The metal was heating up and glowing red, the hammer went down in a grand swing, then the process was repeated. Smashing the metal chest apart as it was getting soft and then letting its pieces melt into the casts prepared beforehand took many hours. The bronze tools in comparison were liquefied much faster. The day passed in what seemed the blink of an eye.
Medusa had not moved a single step from her perched position and still felt not the least bit stiff. Just like the statues circling the temple, she could stand here for all eternity, no, only until even her lifespan finally would find its faraway end. The humans had stopped their rough work for the day and collapsed on the spot.
Although they were gasping for air and greedily drank from the water jar, they seemed satisfied. Eugenia said something to the merchant and he laughed. They forcefully dragged themselves back to the camp and sat down to eat.
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“I feel like I’ve been pounded like dough and baked in the oven for too long.” Themistokles rubbed his stiff shoulders. He was far from athletically built; most people would have described him as thin and boyish, despite his stubble. Seeing him lift a hammer over his head was conflicting with that image. Now he felt the consequences of that.
“The old carpenter that visited my temple sometimes said that sweating is healthy and shows you are alive.” Eugenia replied with an exhausted voice as she seemed to be desperately trying not to nod off.
“Did he also have somethin’ to say about muscles feelin’ like burning tar?” He asked with a strained laugh and then splashed an entire water skin over his face.
“Not when he was praying with me at least.” She laughed in response to his silly actions and fell onto the bunched up sails as if declaring it was time to rest for the night.
“Must’ve been nice to live in a community.” The weary merchant let slip out something he didn’t intend to and covered his mouth awkwardly.
“Hmm.” Eugenia just moaned and closed her eyes. “It wasn’t that lively.” Still she managed to continue the conversation in that comfortable state.
“Lamia’s not too big about Athena?” He asked with a joking tone to lighten the mood.
“It’s not that…” She yawned loudly. “My temple was just very… far…” Before she could finish her words she was already out like a light.
Themistokles watched her for a while and then sluggishly got up from his spot. He walked over to her and pulled the sails over her mostly exposed body. His eyes were filled with nostalgia that seemed out of place.
“Nights get cold when you’re covered in sweat.” He muttered and then went into his makeshift tent to collapse as well.
The stars sprang from the dark night curtain to create the same patterns she had seen thousands of times. Medusa finally moved her stone-like body and leaned her head in one hand. What was she waiting for, honestly? She could not explain it even to herself. Watching them should have been no different from slumbering.
Sleep let her mind fade and allowed for an unencumbered way of wasting away eternity. Unlike a human she had no need for entertainment or distractions. Merely existing was her only duty and her only desire. To continue onwards to spite her.
Her eyelids felt heavy. And yet she still could not calm her mind. In a futile attempt she wandered the fallen in temple and circled the island for the first time in years. All of this was hers, but what was the point? She hadn’t even known about the garden that had been here this entire time. Everything she knew was in ruins, yet there had been something protected at the heart of that destruction for so long. The one who had showed her that was the girl.
“Lady Medusa.” Her voice reached her in even the deepest contemplations. Medusa turned back to see the sleep-deprived girl wobble towards her. It looked like she was walking in her sleep, but there was purpose to her steps.
“What is it? You look pathetic.” The Gorgon replied curtly. Standing there in just such thin fabric with unkempt hair and a dazed expression, how could she not look down on a weak human like that?
“You are mean.” Eugenia yawned in response. “I’ve been so busy that I forgot to wash your clothes.” She raised her hands as if to request an offering.
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“Worry about your own appearance first.” She sighed and stripped herself of the clothes she was given so randomly by the same girl that now took them back.
“I’ll take a bath right after.” She nodded with an expression that signaled how uncomfortable she was with the stickiness and dirt covering her body.
“You put the cart before the horse.” Medusa crossed her arms with a wry smile.
“I can sleep… later…” She rubbed her face with Medusa’s chiton.
“Hey.”
“’s fine… I’ll wash it right away…” She was seriously sleep walking. There could be no other possibility. She stumbled down the stone steps into the reservoir and got a bucket of water. She proceeded to do her chores without even opening her eyes (although it would have made no difference).
The silence between them was unusually strained. The Gorgon could not pinpoint this sensation. It was somewhat like the feeling she got before a big storm approached. Poseidon was quiet since his last outburst, though.
“You seem to get along well with that man.” Completely unlike herself, Medusa started the conversation. Simply waiting for her clothes to be cleaned was just too aggravating.
“Mhm.” Eugenia just nodded, which seemed dangerously close to falling over, straight into the bucket.
“Do you truly believe you can build a boat that will last through a storm?” She asked more perturbed than before.
“If the great and wise Athena wills it so.” She said with a reverent expression. “Her wisdom is imbued in all ship construction. How wonderful to think she carries us… with her mind alone…” Her smile was genuine, although her words became blurry.
“Will you not-” Medusa began, but abruptly stopped. The question was meaningless. It didn’t matter what the girl wanted, because she had already made the decision for her. Asking now was just a sign of weakness in her conviction.
“This hare paw would go great with some olives and goat cheese.” Eugenia said and started to chew on the wet clothes in her hands.
“Go to sleep already!”
The days passed faster the more they approached the promised day. Again and again they were bumping into an issue, but resolved it with teamwork. And every day Eugenia and Themistokles grew closer as well, a bond forged by tools and companionship alike. Each hit of the hammer on the chisel was followed by new piece of wood.
Then when the sun set, they would sit down and tell stories of their past. Themistokles had quite a few more in his repertoire, albeit he was only a few summers older than Eugenia. Surprisingly most of the stories he wanted to share were not about his travels through Persia, but rather about Rhodes and the life under his old master, Eopia’s father. Those years seemed far more important than the four spent far away.
Eugenia was holding her belly from all the laughter after he retold a story of how he barely escaped Eopia’s room when her servants grew suspicious of the ladder at the window.
“Drunk as I was, I’d barely managed ta jump onto the tree next to the house right as the ladder was dragged out from under my feet! Old Mestoka was about to get his ancient bow from the shed to shoot sum holes into me!” He retold the story with flushed cheeks, thanks to the ample wine coursing through his veins. “Toooo bad, he was a terrible shot even back in the war. Hit his own superior against the back of the helmet and got punished in labor camp.” He snickered and almost spilled his red drink everywhere.
“Ahahaha, how did you manage to conceal that it was you?!” Her cheeks too were flushed from all the excitement.
“Ah, that’s the funniest part. I was wearin’ Eopia’s himation over my head like some drunkard runnin’ from his angry wife.” He had to put the wine aside as he couldn’t keep himself straight anymore.
Their laughter echoed inside the fallen in temple and seemed to intensify evermore thundering when it reached the Gorgon in her lair. She had tried to lie down and blend it out, but alas, she might have to bury herself completely to achieve such relief.
They sounded unfathomably happy, just retelling their life stories as if they could relive them through each other. The past was in the past, how did they not understand this? Their lives were so short and yet they insisted on repeating those pieces, picking them out of their faulty memory and glorifying them doubtlessly.
Every human was their own storyteller. They created legends that were just as ludicrous as the tales of true heroes, but on much smaller scale. Every retelling altered the past just a little bit in their minds. For someone who could recall each and every moment of her existence in painstaking detail such a thing was impossible.
But did she envy them? Of course not. Deluding oneself was the greatest folly.
That was why she had to face the truth now. Ever since that man had arrived she had felt the stark contrast between this life and the one before. And the one before that.
Eugenia was happy to speak of experiences so relatable. She sought solace in the words of one like her. The Gorgon did not regret her rejecting attitude, but she could feel those swaying emotions clearly now. The girl had tried to clutch to her captor, desperately wishing for a connection such as this. Medusa would not serve as such a branch to cling onto. She could not be that.
And once the merchant left there would be nothing to hold. Right now Eugenia was throwing herself at this small happiness with all her heart, knowing it would disappear due to the Gorgon’s imprisoning curse. That carefree smile would soon turn into a distant frown.
Her curse was far too cruel, wasn’t it? But it had been spoken. Words had power, no matter the era.
At the camp the heated storytelling had not calmed down yet.
“Stupid as I was, I came back the next day to hand it back to her personally.”
“You didn’t!”
“Don’t underestimate the foolishness of a hungover boy. Naturally she threw a vase at my face and kicked me out.”
“How violent.”
“I deserved it though. The scar over my left eyebrow is a great reminder.” He touched it softly and then sat down. He’d been retelling the story while reenacting his actions.
“You really deserve each other.” She said teasingly.
Finally they both calmed down.
“Why don’t you drink with me on that, at least a li’l bit?” Again, Themistokles posed the question. He was exceptionally persistent sometimes.
Eugenia swallowed the rest of her water and leaned her head to the side. He would not stop until she budged, even if just a little. That was abundantly clear.
“When we finish the boat, I will gladly toast to it with you.”
“Is that a promise?” He asked with a sly grin.
“Yes.” She played with her long hair and smiled sheepishly.
“Then I’m more motivated than ever now! Let’s finish this by tomorrow!”
“That’s impossible!”
“Did Heracles say it’s impossible when he ate the Nemean lion? Didn’t think so!”
“What? Did he eat it?!” She gasped.
“Dunno! Would’ve been a waste of good meat if he didn’t.” He chuckled drunkenly.
“I am not sure that would have been very tasty.” She smiled though. “If you don’t like wasting meat, you could give me your share!”
“No way… this is the last boar chest meat we got.” He walled up around his dinner, creating a second Troy.
“Aaaargh! My thumb!” Themistokles sucked on his swollen red fingers as if they were on fire. “Tartarus! May the Titans devour this hammer!” He threw it against the boat’s hull and cursed some more.
“You should not swear or take the gods names in vain.” She scolded him, but then handed him some cool water to push his hand into.
“Sorry. Forgot you were a priestess for a second.” He apologized with teeth gritted from the pain.
“You shouldn’t do it even if there is no priestess with you Zosimos!” She lightly smacked his head and he laughed. “I was not joking.”
“My apologies Eugenia. You just sounded so much like Eopia there.” The pain was as good as gone when he started to laugh.
“Oh.”
“Except when she scolds me she tends to kick me out of her room.” He reminisced with nostalgia.
“I am a bit envious.” She said quietly.
“Hm?”
“It’s nothing. You should take care of your thumb!”
“Right away milady.” He splashed his hand in the water with confusion. After the swelling subsided he returned to the tent for a bit.
It wasn’t long before the slithering sounds of a snake joined the girl as she was wiping the small bump on the boat. There wasn’t any real damage caused by the angry hammer toss, but she still felt bad for their work.
“It looks like a real boat now.” Medusa admitted begrudgingly.
“We poured all our effort into it. Doesn’t she look beautiful?”
“This coming from the blind girl.” The Gorgon snorted and then inspected the boat. It was small. At least compared to what she was used to. This would barely fit a few people, let alone lots of cargo. It rested half in the water already, but the small waves could not carry it off on their own. “Who is this ‘she’?”
“I think sailors name their ships after women.” She said something vague again. Her knowledge was always hearsay after all.
“Pitiful.” Men truly were lustful beings to the core.
“Did you need something Lady Medusa?” Eugenia asked curiously.
“Me? Not exactly.” She left her inner world and suddenly found herself lost for words. Why had she come here? Her lower body had just moved on its own.
“Do you want some food? It’s delicious!”
“I think not.” Her voice became sharp. “What about…” She looked away from the girl. It was hard to speak the following words. “What about the garden I gave you?”
Eugenia furrowed her brows and turned her head back to the temple, as if futilely trying to see where Medusa was staring. “Well. It’s not like the garden will die if I leave it alone for a few weeks. I can’t really harvest anything for a few months and Themistokles supplies will turn bad eventually. It would be a waste to let such delicious food go bad! That’s why taking care of the garden is not very important-“ She stopped herself midsentence as she felt Medusa tense up.
“True.” The Gorgon simply replied one-note and turned her back on the priestess. “The boat looks shaky, but well done nonetheless. You defy expectations, as usual.” Her words sounded like praise, but lacked any emotion.
As fast as she arrived, she had already decided to leave.
“Does she want me to take care of the garden for her?” Although she knew something was off, the girl could simply not connect the dots.
Another week passed and they finally reached the endgame. Without a doubt the boat that they had now named ‘Zosimos II.’ (A joke that seemed much funnier in the delirium of sleep deprived minds) was ready to take off.
“Incredible.” Themistokles patted the boat’s wooden bow with glistening eyes. “Once I become Archon I’ll donate some coin chests to the harbor. They’re gods among men for doin’ this every day.”
“Don’t forget to give to the temples as well.”
“How could I forget?” He chuckled.
“Then this is it. When the sun rises again, this boat will be ready to sail towards Athens.” Eugenia became sentimental as well.
They enjoyed the bliss of their triumph for a little longer as the last rays of the sun dripped off their faces. Night returned once more. The last evening of their shared time had arrived.
“Let’s pull out all stops! I’ll break the final crate with the real good stuff.”
“You have been holding out on me?” The priestess said with a playful smile.
“Some things are only good for the right occasions.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “And of course I’ll have to bring out the best wine I have for our first drinking party.”
“Hm?” She pretended not to understand.
“A promise is a promise. Or didja think Athena’ll forgive it if her priestess turned out to be a liar?” He pulled her into a tighter hold with a devious grin.
“Oh great and wise Athena.” She gave up under his forceful cheer.
A few hours passed as they had the banquet for two. It was the best party of their lives, undoubtedly.
Or at least that went for one of them.
“Zosimoooos, gimme more of the spicy one!!” She repeatedly hit him with her cup.
“S-sure. You mean the wine from southern Attica?” He pulled another amphora out of a crate and hastily filled her cup. She had been guzzling the stuff like a dehydrated horse. He might have been tipsy since a while ago, maybe he didn’t even know how much she had forced him to drink, but those were unhealthy amounts of alcohol she was pouring into her gullet right now.
The tent reeked of alcohol and grilled meat and the atmosphere was loose for the most part. He couldn’t tell when exactly they had gotten into this position, but Eugenia was sitting on his woolen bedstead and had him in a deadly neck clutch the entire time. Her face was redder than blood itself and her drunken voice was something to behold.
“Thi’sum good drinkin’! Not like the watery crap in the head priestess’ cabinet.” She laughed loudly and almost fell over. The tent was shaking dearly.
“Aha, I didn’t know they allowed alcohol in the temples.”
“They don’t!” She snorted and then chugged her entire cup in one go. “Ohooo I feel so light! ‘s like I could just fffffly off.” Her body was spinning a little. “Heeeey Zosimos, why’s your voice comin’ from left… right… behind?”
He thought about it and realized that this was probably a blind woman’s equivalent of spinning vision.
“Eugenia, maybe you’ve had enough to drink, don’t ya thin-?”
“Huuuh?” She put him into a chokehold that would have made ringers shrink in fear.
“I said- M-maybe another refill?” He held up the wine with fear in his eye and a lack of oxygen in his throat.
“Yeeeesh!” She was pleased. Pushing the cup into his face, she took some cheese and stuffed it into her mouth and missed. Then she missed again. Eventually the entire face was covered in it. This seemed to amuse her even more and she wiped it on Themistokles chiton.
He watched it with an unmoving expression, but clearly uncomfortable.
“Listeennnn, Zosimos.” She drew him closer until he could feel the heat radiating off her face. “Who’s prettier? Your Eo---popoia… or me?”
The question didn’t sound like friendly banter. This was a query that would decide his fate, he could simply feel it.
“That is…” Her milky eyes seemed to focus on him, which made him ten times more anxious than if it was a normal gaze. “S-something like that I cannot answer. I only look at Eopia. Comparing other women to her is wrong.” He gulped. It seemed that even with his mind in a murky soup and no air reaching his brain he still managed to stand his ground. He could never betray Eopia, but he also didn’t want to disappoint Eugenia.
“What’s with thaaaat? Dats worse than Lahady Medushaaaa.” She slapped his back so hard that he was thrown on his belly. “Can you believe it? She said I wasn’t pretty, Muses are better. Not even the Graces! Just Muses…” She was lamenting it as badly as a war crime.
“Comparing mortals to the Muses?” He joined her disbelief, although for different reasons.
“Would it kill ‘er to compliment me a bit? I’m still a maiden.” She growled and then suddenly face planted into the woolen blankets. Seconds later she began snoring louder than a dragon.
Themistokles rubbed his spinning head and grinned weirdly. This had not turned out the way he expected at all. Her inhibitions had disappeared with the first sip and from there it only became a whirlwind that would make the storm he experienced before lower its head in shame.
In return he was forced to drink far past his limit as well, so his head was already pounding. If he didn’t sober up a little he might not be able to move tomorrow.
Thus he left the tent and gasped for some fresh air. All he had been breathing for the last few hours was alcohol and the odor of a young woman. Such things could mess up a man’s head.
Zosimos had survived another deadly situation, but he didn’t feel proud for it. Instead he took some water and drank it all in one go. His thirsty throat was crying tears as well. Afterwards he wondered what to do. The night was long and the snoring behind him troubling. He decided to take a walk. But then it dawned on him. There was something he felt compelled to do on his last night.
The steps were wide, flat and allowed even a drunk man to climb them rather safely. His sandals stopped in front of the large door (which had an oddly shaped hole in its center for some reason). With a deep breath he prepared himself and knocked.
“I am over here.” But the unsuspecting merchant was caught off guard by the call from the inner temple. He hastily closed his eyes which made his head spin. “Behind the altar. You can open your eyes.” Her words were not particularly friendly, but she did allow him to approach.
Instead of coming closer, he sat down on the temple steps. He leaned on his legs and sat down something next to him.
“I said I do not want your gifts.”
“’Tis the best wine I have.” He replied calmly. “And Eugenia already drank half of it anyway.”
The Gorgon didn’t respond. The silence hesitantly spread between them as if uncertain when it would be cut down.
“What a beautiful moon.” He looked up with reverence. His goddess was watching over him tonight as well.
“Why do you not go back to the girl? You should enjoy yourself more. It will be the last time you can touch her.” The Gorgon’s words were neutral, spoken merely as an observer.
“I let‘er rest. She’s actually real wild, that one.” He coughed. “Just let her sleep it off.”
“Hmph.”
“Might be the wine talkin’, so please don’t tear my head off.” He said somewhat lightheaded. “Ya think this can go on forever, your li’l curse?”
“A drunkard dares to question me?” She replied flatly.
“Fair.” He rubbed his face. “Thing is, Eugenia’s a good woman. If I didn’t have my Eopia, who knows what would’ve happened tonight.” He said it more jokingly than anything, but it was still a weight on his shoulders. “That’s not really what matters, though. She deserves better than… this.” He stretched his arms to the sides as if grasping the entire island.
“You want to go back on our trade?” She hissed.
“Pfft, no way.” He snorted loudly. “I’m a coward, remember?”
“That is right.” She agreed.
“Meddlin’ is just the Zosimos way, I s’ppose. ‘course I also love to make profit and seein’ such talent go to waste hurts me in here.” He patted his chest.
Eugenia really was just that much of an asset. He didn’t look at her like a ware in the trade house, but he could see that she was wasted even on her previous profession. Skilled, devout, good-natured. Those were perks that would make even most high ranking men ask for her services.
“Meaningless.” The Gorgon replied stoically.
“Is it? Even I can see that you’re not much of a monster. And I can’t even look at ya!” His joke was not rewarded with laughter. Tough audience. “So why’re ya clinging to such cruelty? Why are ya punishing her?”
There was no sound, except for dragged out breathing. Was he not worth a reply?
“I won’t convince ya. That’s not my right. But if Eugenia wants off this ruined island.” He spoke carefully, knowing full well that his life was on the line. “Somehow she will escape.”
“Do you consider yourself an Oracle now?” She huffed.
“Who knows? I’m called flexible-to-a-fault Zosimos by some.” He laughed mildly and then got up from the steps. “So long Lady of the isle.” He raised his hand in goodbye without looking back.
He left behind only a small amphora of wine.
What a self-indulgent man. The Gorgon’s face was rigid and emotionless.
Many thoughts were toppling each other in her head, but she did not want to confront them. For now she needed to forget.
She moved to the steps and picked up the wine. Although she would never accept anything that man left behind, he did say this was Eugenia’s wine. The leftovers of her prisoner belonged to her as well.
Even she thought that was a terrible excuse, but she needed a drink. Without a care she downed the entire contents and threw the amphora aside. It shattered somewhere in the courtyard and she then curled up on her snake half and sighed warmly. He didn’t lie, that was some of the best wine she had ever partaken of.
Tonight she would sleep well.
Tap. Tap tap.
Footsteps. Medusa’s left eye opened and she sighed. Had that drunkard still not given up? Or did he come back for his wine after all. She would knock his head clean off if he made a cocky comment.
“Huff…. Phew…” Ragged breathing, maybe from exhaustion? He hadn’t wandered that far yet.
The Gorgon moved up her torso and looked at the disturbance.
It was Eugenia.
Red faced and huffing from exhaustion she seemed entirely unfocused. Her feet were dragging and her clothes awry. Overall she had never seen her this out of shape.
“You wish to berate me as well, girl?” She squinted her eyes in annoyance.
Eugenia seemed to focus on her voice and then raised her hands.
“Tail!” And exclaimed such.
“Pardon?” Medusa’s eyes dulled.
“Taaaail!” Eugenia stumbled forward and then jumped on Medusa’s long snake tail.
“What do you think you are-?” She was taken aback. The girl hugged her tail and clung to it with all her might. Without any shame she rubbed her face against it over and over. Her hot cheeks were oddly pleasant against the cold scales and the tip of the Gorgon’s tail twitched involuntarily.
“Coooold.” The girl smiled with deep satisfaction and closed her milky eyes.
Medusa was stuck between wanting to throw her off and being paralyzed from the sheer audacity. Her tail was undulating naturally, but the girl did not let go.
“You cannot be serious.” The Gorgon held her head from a sudden migraine. After all this heavy thinking, she was attacked in such a, such a… moronic manner.
This would have consequences. She would pay this human back a hundred times over.
Now that this was decided she leaned back against a pillar and curled her tail up ever so slightly. Eugenia’s body shifted in her sleep and rolled into the small hollow created between the snake folds.
Her face had never been more peaceful than this instant.
The last night passed peacefully as the dawn of the new journey arrived all too soon.
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