Excerpt From my short story "Jason's Quest"

A voice fell out of the hills, approaching the Argonaut camp, "Jason?"

Jason wheeled around. His eyes scanned the landscape cautiously.

"Jason of Iolkos?" The male voice drew closer. An emissary of the Colchian kingdom.

Seeing the man had no followers, Jason engaged him, "I am Jason. Who's asking?"

The emissary approached, a scroll clutched tightly. Handing it to Jason, the man offered, "Here is a message from princess Medea."

"What does she want with me?"

"I am but a servant of the palace. I ask no questions." The emissary turned to leave.

Jason unfurled the scroll. The parchment crinkled in his hands. It read:

Jason of Iolkos

I am Medea, the one whose eyes

Held your gaze in the palace today.

My father leads you to certain slaughter,

For, he has no intention to concede

The Fleece.

I will help you, but you must do

Exactly as I instruct.

Meet me by the palace walls

At daybreak.

Alone.

Jason took the scroll to his tent, and read it again. The dark haired lovely to the king's rear requested to meet me? Why? Has the king set a trap, luring me to peril? How do I know this letter is genuine? Then again, after the vivid dream in which Hera all but promised me the throne, perhaps this meeting is simply the next stepping-stone on the path. In any case, I shall faithfully honor the gods and go to meet Medea. Hera would not guide me wrongly, would she?

Prior to Eos’ flight, Jason traveled by moonlight and crept close to the palace. The hero hid in the shadows, eyes keen, muscles stiff. He relaxed as a female form approached. A hooded cloak draped over her lithe frame. Soft dawn light broke over the horizon suddenly as if summoned from the dark shadows at the world’s edge. The warm rays illuminated the mask that hid the woman’s face.

Behind the mask, her eyes glimmered in the dim light. Their beauty struck him with the power of Hephaestus’ hammer smashing against his ashen anvil. She removed her hood and slowly dragged her fingers through her long gentle tresses that cascaded over her shoulders.

Her honeyed voice floated over the distance between them and into his ears, “Καλημέρα. Good morning, brave Jason. Are you certain you wish to accept my father’s challenges? Are you truly the man to face down these tasks, cross my father, and place your crew in grave danger... or worse?”

“Did you not witness my earlier display in the palace?”

She smiled. “I did indeed.” Her hazel eyes sparkled with the memory of how her dark arts had saved him from a spear intent on impaling her new love. “But, what else do you have in that tunic of yours? You’ll need more than fancy acrobatics to complete these labors.”

She produced a phial from inside her chiton. “Take this. It contains an oil you must apply to your entire body, shield, cuirass, and helm prior to the first task, else your death will be slow and painful.”

He would have asked why she thought he needed her help. After all, he hadn’t needed her aid in any of the previous trials he’d faced. But then, Eros’ arrow lodged a bit deeper, love filling Jason’s chest cavity. Jason’s heart quickened, drumming a passionate cadence against his chest. A smile crept across his face. “Σας ευχαριστώ. Thank you. But why are you helping me, may I ask?”

“You are the first person to come for the golden fleece that I believe can actually succeed... with my help of course,” she purred and caressed his muscular arms from forearm to bicep. “You’re either favored by the gods as you say, or foolish to a fault. Either way, I’m drawn to you. I cannot say why the passion burns so strongly after one meeting, but it does.”

Jason crossed his arms. “I’ll not believe that you’d willingly betray your father’s volatile temper. Hera warned me as much. And I certainly witnessed it yesterday.”

She placed Jason’s hand over her heart. “Eros’ shafts do not strike in varying degrees. Their impact is full and deep, blossoming unrestrained like flowers in spring.”

“I too felt the bite of Eros’ arrows, but a growing affection is no reason to incur your father’s wrath.”

“An ordinary love is not,” she countered. “Yet, the gods have cast their eyes upon us both. It is their will not ours.”