“That wasn’t exactly what I was thinking,” I said, “but you can bet I won’t do that either. Tell me, if Ambiades has an exalted grandfather, why doesn’t he have a better cloak?”
Sophos checked to be sure that Ambiades was riding ahead of the magus and out of earshot. “His grandfather was duke of Eumen.”
I had to think for a minute. “Of the Eumen conspiracy?” I asked. I was quiet myself. Ordinary people didn’t talk out loud about the Eumen conspiracy.
“After he tried to return the oligarchy and was executed, his family forfeited their lands and titles. I think Ambiades’s father did inherit some money, but he lost most of it gambling. Last winter, when Ambiades wrote to his father and told him he needed a new cloak, his father sent him one of his old ones.”
“Ah,” I said. “Poor Ambiades.”
Sophos looked at me sideways.
“How can he look down his aristocratic nose at the unwashed masses when he’s as poor as anyone else, and landless to boot? I bet he wakes up every morning and can’t stand it.”
We stayed away from roads. Although we crossed many dirt tracks, we picked our way carefully between the trees and moved mostly at a slow pace. From time to time the magus checked the compass to make sure we stayed on course.
We stopped early in the evening as no moonlight would penetrate the crisscrossed leaves, but we were far enough from the nearest town that the magus approved a larger cooking fire, and Pol used some of the dried meat in the provisions to make a stew. There was no conversation around the fire as we ate. After dinner the silence was strained. Finally the magus spoke. “If Gen can take a few liberties with the old myths, I suppose I can, too,” he said, and began to tell Sophos another story of the old gods.
EUGENIDES AND THE
SKY GOD’S THUNDERBOLTS
After her argument with her consort, the Sky, Earth gave Hephestia her power to shake the ground. The Sky had promised to give Hephestia his thunderbolts, but he delayed. He made excuses. He’d sent them to be cleaned; he’d loaned them to a friend; he’d forgotten them by the stream when he was hunting. Finally Hephestia went to her mother and asked what she should do, and Earth sent for Eugenides.
Earth had promised that she would give no more gifts to him except those which she had given to all men. So she told Eugenides that he must use his own cleverness if he was to acquire the attributes of the gods. Cleverness was a gift she had given to all men, although to few had she given as much as to the woodcutter’s son. She told Eugenides that the Sky sometimes lay in the evening with one of the goddesses of the mountain lakes, and when he did, he left his thunderbolts beside him.
Eugenides first went home to his mother and asked for the moleskin blanket that had covered him as a baby. He took the blanket to Olcthemenes, the tailor, and asked him to make a suit from it, both a tunic and leggings, and Olcthemenes, the tailor, did. Then Eugenides went into the forest and begged from every thrush a single feather, and he took those to Olmia, the weaver, and he asked her to make him a feathered hat and Olmia, the weaver, did. Then Eugenides climbed to the mountain lakes and he sat quietly in the cover of the trees and he waited for the Sky God to come.
When the Sky came to the lake in the late evening, he removed the thunderbolts from their shoulder harness, and he laid them down beside the lake. When all was quiet, Eugenides moved through the bushes, with hardly a sound, but the lake heard him. She said, “What was that that moved in the bushes?” And the Sky looked, and he saw the shoulder of Eugenides’s tunic. He said, “Only a mole that sneaks through the twilight.” And Eugenides moved still more quietly, but still the lake heard him, and she said, “What was that that moves through the bushes?” and the Sky looked, but not carefully, and he saw the edge of Eugenides’s feathered hat, and he said, “Only the thrush that settles in the bushes to sleep.” And Eugenides moved still more quietly and not the lake nor the Sky heard a sound as he slipped away with Sky’s thunderbolts and carried them across the top of the mountain.
It was dark when the Sky went to retrieve his thunderbolts and when he could not find them he thought at first they were mislaid and he searched all over the mountaintops and it was day before he knew that they were gone.
He saw Eugenides crossing the plain at the base of the mountain, and he stopped him and demanded his thunderbolts. Eugenides said that he did not have them, and the Sky could see that this was true.
“Then tell me where they are,” the Sky demanded, but Eugenides refused.
“I will take you in my hands and twist you back into dust,” the Sky threatened, but Eugenides still refused. He knew that the Sky could not hurt him without breaking his promise to Earth. The Sky threatened and Eugenides was frightened, but he would not yield until the Sky agreed that he would give him whatever he asked if Eugenides would tell what he had done with the thunderbolts.
And Eugenides asked for a drink from the wellspring of immortality.
The Sky raged and Eugenides trembled, but he stood his ground, because bravery was a gift that Earth had given to all men and to her son in full measure.
Finally the Sky went to the wellspring and fetched a chalice of water, but he laced it with powdered coleus root before he gave it to Eugenides.
Eugenides told him where he had put the thunderbolts. “Look on my sister’s throne in her hall where she will rule all lesser gods and you will see them.” Then he drank the water and tasted the bitterness of the coleus root, and his mouth twisted.
“In the water of life,” said the Sky, “the coleus will not harm you. But it has made the cup bitter as I will make your life bitter,” and he left. He went to the Great Hall of the Gods to the throne of Hephestia to seek his thunderbolts, and he found them and Hephestia as well. The thunderbolts were resting in her lap. Hephestia made no mention of Eugenides. She only thanked her father for keeping his promise, and the Sky could not protest.
Thus the Sky made Eugenides immortal and yielded to Hephestia the power of his thunderbolts. With those and the ability to shake the earth, she became the ruler of all gods except the first gods.
“Well done,” I said when the magus finished.
“Why, thank you, Gen.”
Did he sound genuinely flattered?
CHAPTER SEVEN
GOOD FEELINGS PERSISTED BETWEEN MYSELF and the magus until the next morning, when Pol discovered that most of the food was missing from one of the packs of provisions. He called the magus over to him, and they talked quietly, throwing glances in my direction. The magus looked into the saddlebag himself and swore. He said something to Pol under his breath, and they both crossed the clearing to stand in front of me. The magus was carrying his horse crop in one hand. I stood up warily as they came.
“I hope you ate well?” said the magus.
“Not lately,” I answered before I realized that another response might have been better.
“Hold him.” The magus raised the crop. When Pol grabbed me by the arm, I ducked away, but I was too late. I planted my feet and tried to overbalance him but ended up with my head locked under his arm. I grabbed him around the knee and tried to throw him, but we both went down, and he landed on top. He shifted his weight until most of it lay on my head, and he held me pinned while the magus beat me across the back and shoulders with his horse crop.