intractable, but nothing should be overlooked.” Athena sighed. She hated to be caught without schemes. “
I’ve racked my brains, to be truthful,” she said, “and
I’ve come up with nothing.”
For a while the goddesses stared at the grass, each
lost in her own
perplexities. Then Hera’s eyes went sly. She said:
“Listen!
We’ll go to Aphrodite and ask her to persuade that
revolting boy
to loose an arrow at Aietes’ daughter, Medeia of the
many
spells. With the help of Medeia our Jason can’t fail!”
Athena
smiled. “Excellent,” she said and glanced at Hera, then
away.
Hera caught it — no simpleton, ruler of the whole
world’s will.
“All right.” she said, “explain that simper,
Lightning-head.”
Athena’s gray eyes widened. “I smiled?” Hera looked
stern. Athena
sighed, then smiled again. ‘There is … a certain logic to events, as you know, Your Majesty. Your war with
Pelias
has taken, I think, a new turn. If Medeia should fall in
love
with Jason and win him the fleece, and if she returned
with him
and reigned with him — and Pelias …” Queen Hera’s
eyebrows raised,
all shock. “I give you my solemn word I intended no such thing!” Then, abruptly, she too smiled. Then both
of them laughed
and, taking one another’s arms, they hurried to the love
goddess.
She was alone in her palace. Crippled Hephaiastos
had gone to work early,
as he often did, to create odd gadgets for gods and
men
in his shop. She was sitting in an inlaid chair, a
heart-shaped box
on the arm, and between little nibbles she was combing
her lush, dark hair
with a golden comb. When she saw the goddesses
standing at the door,
peeking shyly through the draperies — in their dimpled
fingers
fans half-flared, like the pinions of a friendly but
timorous bird—
she stopped and called them in. She crossed to meet
them quickly
and settled the two, almost officiously, in easy chairs, before she went to her own seat. “How wonderful!”
she said,
and her childlike eyes were bright. “It’s been ages!”
The queen of goddesses
smiled politely, cool and aloof in spite of herself. She
glanced at Athena,
and Athena, innocent as morning, inquired about
Aphrodite’s
health, and Hephaiastos’ health, and that of “the boy.”
She could not
bring herself to come out with the urchin’s name. When
the queen
of love had responded at length — sometimes with tears,
sometimes
with a smile that lighted the room like a burst of pink
May sun,
the goddess of will broke in, a trifle abruptly, almost sternly, saying: “My dear, our visit is only partly social. We two are facing a disaster. At this very
moment
warlike Jason and his friends the Argonauts are riding
at anchor
on the river Phasis. They’ve come to fetch the fleece
from Aietes.
We’re concerned about them; as a matter of fact I’m
prepared to fight
with all my power for that good, brave man, and I
mean to save him,
even if he sails into Hades’ Cave. You know my justified fury at Pelias, that insolent upstart who slights me
whenever
he offers libations. ‘Peace whatever the expense’ is his
motto.
Even those beautiful images of me he’s ordered ripped
down
from end to end of Argos, for fear some humble herder may dare to assert himself as Pelias himself did once, when his brother was rightful king. I won’t mince
words: I want
his skull, and I want it by Jason’s hand — not just
because
he’s proved himself as a warrior (though heaven knows
he’s done so).
Once, disguised as an ugly old woman with withered
feet,
I met him at the mouth of the Anauros River. The river
was in spate—
all the mountains and their towering spurs were buried
in snow
and hawk-swift cataracts roared down the sides. I called)
out, pleading
to be carried across. Jason was hurrying to Pelias’ feast, but despite the advice of those who were with him,
despite the rush
of the ice-cold stream, he laughed — bright laugh of a
demigod—
and shouted, ‘Climb on, old mother! If I’m not strong
enough
for two I’m not Aison’s son!’ Again and again I’ve
tested
his charity, and he’s always the same. Say what you
like
about Jason, he does not blanch, for himself or for
others.”
Words failed
the queen of love. The sight of Hera pleading for favors from her, most mocked of all goddesses, filled her with
awe. She said:
“Queen of goddesses and wife of great Zeus, regard me as the meanest creature living if I fail you now in your need! All I can say or do, I will, and whatever small strength I
have
is yours.” Her sweet voice broke, and her lovely eyes
brimmed tears.
Athena looked thoughtful. She could not easily scorn
Aphrodite,
whatever her dullness. You might have imagined, in
fact, that the goddess
of mind felt a twinge of envy. She was silent, studying
her hands.
She knew nothing, daughter of Zeus, of love; but she
knew by cool geometry
that she was not all she might be — nor was Hera.
Hera spoke, choosing her words with care. “We are
not
asking the power of your hands. We would like you to
tell your boy
to use his wizardry and make the daughter of Aietes fall, beyond all turning, in love with the son of Aison. Her
aid
can make this business easy. There lives no greater
witch
in Kolchis, even though she’s young.”
Then poor Aphrodite paled
and lowered her eyes, blushing. “Perhaps Hephaiastos,”
she said, “
could make some engine. Perhaps I could speak to—”
Her voice trailed off.
“The truth is, he’s far more likely to listen to either of
you
than to me. He sasses me, scorns me, mocks me. I’ve
had half a mind
to break his arrows and bow in his very sight. Would
that be right, do you think?”
She wrung her fingers, looked pitiful. “As you well
know, his father and I
do everything for him. And how does he pay us? He
won’t go to bed,
refuses to obey us, says horrible, horrible things, and
in front of company!—
but he’s a child, of course. How can he learn to be loving if we don’t show love and forgiveness?
How can he learn
to have generous feelings toward others if we aren’t
first generous to him?
Parenthood really is a horror!”
Athena and Hera smiled
and exchanged glances. Aphrodite pouted. “People
without children,”
she said, “know all the answers. Never mind. I’ll do
what you ask,
if possible.”
Then Queen Hera rose and took Aphrodite’s
milkwhite hand in hers. “You know best how to deal
with him.