Aphrodite's Touch Read online

  The three-legged stool scuttled back to its corner.

  * * * * *

  Aglaia sat with her back straight while Neda brushed her long hair until every snarl and tangle was loose and it flowed down her back and over her shoulders in dark red waves.

  "Thank you, Neda," she said after Neda had woven it into one thick braid down her back.

  Neda inclined her head and left.

  Aglaia was restless. After consuming the nectar and ambrosia, she felt much better. No bruises marked her skin and no soreness afflicted her muscles. She felt as good as ever...except for her right ankle. She threw back the coverings.

  Hephaestus had smeared it with an unguent and wrapped it in white linen, elevating her foot on a pillow. The swelling and discoloration had lessened from what she could see of the skin around the bandage. She wondered if she could walk on it and if she should try. Perhaps she should wait for Neda or Hephaestus in case she couldn't.

  No, she didn't need anyone's help. She was a goddess of grace. Surely, she was graceful enough to take a few steps without anyone's help. She swung her good leg off the bed.

  The sleeping tunic she wore rode up well past her knees, and she wondered what had happened to her chiton. Considering how badly she was battered, the flimsy material had probably fared no better than her body. Had Hephaestus changed her clothing? The thought embarrassed and thrilled her at the same time. More than likely, he had given the task over to one of the Nedas.

  Aglaia sighed and carefully slid her leg across the bed. Just as she eased her foot to the cold stone floor, Hephaestus walked in.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  The images of his large, calloused hands on her body had not faded, had in fact become broader and more detailed. Aglaia's cheeks went warm, and she self-consciously tugged at the hem of her tunic.

  "I thought I'd try to take a few steps," she said, even as he crossed the room, swept her up, and planted her in the center of the bed again. "I'm tired of being in bed."

  He propped her leg on the pillow.

  "Tomorrow," he promised and set a small bowl and fresh bandages on the flat rock beside the bed. "Right now, I'm going to change the dressing."

  Aglaia yanked at the tunic, which had ridden up even further. She finally managed to release the material from underneath her and straightened the hem to well below her knees. Hephaestus was unwrapping her ankle and seemed oblivious to the length of leg that had been shown. Aglaia frowned. Not that she wanted him to notice her in that way, but an appreciative glance would have been nice.

  Hephaestus rubbed the unguent into her skin with a gentle touch. When he finished, he wrapped her ankle in the fresh bandage and spread the coverings over her. Her face was still turned down in a frown, and she crossed her arms.

  "I'll have Neda bring you nectar and ambrosia," he said.

  Aglaia wrinkled her nose. "I'm tired of nectar and ambrosia."

  The immortals had to consume the divine food occasionally to replenish their strength and sustain their immortality, but more frequent consumption would cause no harm. However, the food and drink were rich and filling and that which Aglaia had consumed the day before was enough. She would rather have mortal food. Although she didn't have to eat at all if she didn't want to, there was something decidedly decadent about mortal food, even the plainest fare.

  "It will help you to heal more quickly," Hephaestus said as he cleaned up.

  "All right," Aglaia said crossly. "One more serving, but that's all."

  Hephaestus left to discard the soiled bandage and returned with Neda, who carried a tray. This Neda wore her hair in long ringlets with smaller curls framing her face. She set the tray on the flattened boulder, then stood motionless to one side. Hephaestus once again sat on the edge of the bed and held the goblet to her lips.

  She almost snapped at him that she could feed herself, but instead she laid her fingers around his to steady the cup. Her hands were soft and fair in comparison to his dark bronzed, work-roughened skin. Her eyes met his over the rim and she tried to see into the bottomless black eyes. She drained the last of the nectar, but he cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably as if he'd rather be somewhere else. Reluctantly, she let him go.

  When she had finished the ambrosia and he had risen as if to leave, she stretched out her arms toward him.

  "I want to get up now," Aglaia said. He glowered down at her and she glared up at him. "I'm tired of being confined to this bed and this room. I don't even know what time of day it is!"

  "It's midday. Tomorrow, you can try to walk." Hephaestus headed for the doorway. "I have some things to take care of. Call for Neda if you want for anything."

  "Wait!" she called after him, but he didn't heed her plea. She threw a pillow as hard as she could toward the door.

  Soon Neda, this one with her hair in one thick braid over her shoulder and a scattering of loose curls around her face, came in. She retrieved the pillow and set it on the bed without comment. Anticipating Aglaia's need to do something to keep herself busy, Neda had brought a basket of needlework. Aglaia was good at embroidery and ordinarily enjoyed the quiet, soothing rhythm of pushing a needle through cloth, but she had been abed too long, and the intricate stitching increased her anxiety. She made too many mistakes.

  At long last, Aglaia threw the sewing down and swept the coverings aside. Neda had left some time ago, and Aglaia was certain it must be late afternoon. Hephaestus would probably check on her before retiring as he had done the night before.

  Aglaia had pretended sleep, but she had been all too aware of his presence and every breath he took. Her skin had tingled at his light touch when he drew the coverings over her. She had almost reached for him then, pulling him to her for a kiss, but she had been afraid. Not of him but of rejection. In the end, he had stalked from the room and she had let him go.

  Rousing herself from the remembrance, Aglaia eased her leg to the floor. The nectar and ambrosia having done their work, the pain was even less than earlier, but still enough to make her pause.

  Aglaia took a deep breath and pushed herself to a standing position, most of her weight on her good leg. Dizziness swept over her, and she held onto the boulder nearest the bed to keep from falling. When she was sure she had her balance, she hopped a few steps and laid her hands flat against the wall for support.

  A scraping noise sounded behind her and fearing Hephaestus' return, she turned her head. But it was only a tripod crossing the room toward her. It stopped a few paces away as if waiting for her to be seated.

  "My, aren't you clever!" Aglaia said affectionately as if she were speaking to a pet. "But I don't think you can carry me as far as I want to go. Besides I need the exercise."

  The tripod waited patiently.

  She needed something to lean on, like a stick or staff. Squinting into the darker area, she finally spied what she wanted. Then she looked down at the tripod.

  "All right, let's see if you can take me over there," she said and pointed to where she wanted to go. When she sat, she held her feet off the floor and gripped the edges of the seat. The tripod moved slowly, lurching a bit, but it got her safely to the dark corner. Aglaia rose and, standing on one foot, patted the seat. "How wonderful! You did it. Thank you."

  The tripod didn't respond.

  Aglaia turned and reached for one of the walking staffs that stood in the corner. They belonged to Hephaestus and she had seen him use them on his rare trips to Mount Olympus. Why he would bother with a staff when he had the more practical greave, she didn't know.

  She chose one and tried to set the forked end under her arm, but it was too tall for her. Of course, the staff was made for Hephaestus and he was much taller than she. So she looped her elbow over the deepest part of the fork and grasped the staff just below the fork with her other hand. Not as easy as she had thought, but it would suffice.

  Tentatively, she put a little weight on her injured foot and took a shambling step. Her ankle burned and she bit her lip to ke
ep from crying aloud. Perhaps she should have listened to Hephaestus after all, but she had come this far and she intended to see it through. She was sick of the sight of this little cave.

  Slowly, she tried a few more steps, and by the time she reached the doorway, she had devised a way to use the staff with minimal effort and pain. Then she noticed the tripod had followed her, and she looked down at it.

  "All right, you may come along. I'll probably need to rest along the way."

  The well-lit passageway went only a short distance until another tunnel led off to the right. It was also lighted by torches in the wall. Aglaia decided she couldn't get lost if she always turned to the right, then always turned to the left on her way back. She certainly couldn't trust her sense of direction because she had none. An unaccounted for failing to be found in a Charis.

  Aglaia took the passageway to the right and the little tripod kept up with her a few paces behind. She had begun to think the passageway would never end when another branch appeared to the right. She was tiring, but she was also exhilarated to be out of that stuffy little cave even if all she saw were endless, monotonous tunnels. She sat on the little tripod to rest.

  "I'm glad you came along. I'd have nowhere to rest if you weren't here." But the sound of her voice echoed eerily around her and she said nothing more.

  When she had caught her breath, she decided she would explore this passageway a little. Then she would return to the bedchamber. There really wasn't much to see and she didn't want to overdo.

  Instead of another passageway, it was the narrow opening of a dark cave. One torch lit the entry and she had the sense that the cave wasn't much larger than the bedchamber she'd left behind. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimness and when they did, a large pair of bronze-clad feet at the edge of the darkness startled her.

  "Who's there?" she asked loudly.

  Silence was her response.

  "I didn't mean to intrude. I thought this was another passageway."

  Still no answer.

  Balancing on the staff, she lifted the torch from the wall and hopped a few steps closer. The circle of light slowly revealed the legs, torso, and helmed head of a man half again as tall as Hephaestus made entirely of bronze! After the Nedas, she shouldn't be surprised, but he looked more like a suit of armor forged together in the shape of a man, unlike the serving maids who could pass for women. The bronze was badly tarnished in patches, and Aglaia could see nothing but blackness between the faceplates.

  "Talos?" she wondered in a whisper.

  Aglaia had heard of the magnificent creation of Hephaestus. Zeus had given Talos to be the guard of Crete. When Jason and the Argonauts had landed at Crete on their return voyage, Medea had somehow gained the advantage of the bronze man and pulled a nail from his ankle, allowing the ichor to pour out and thus killing Talos. It seemed only right that Hephaestus would rescue and revive his creation.

  She smiled up at him. "I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'll go now."

  Aglaia turned awkwardly and started back toward the doorway. She heard the sound of creaking metal just before she was lifted off her feet and found herself cradled in the arms of Talos. He strode a few steps then halted at the entryway. The tripod was beside itself with anxiety, moving back and forth in front of Talos as if trying to stop it. Aglaia almost laughed. If the stool had been a dog, it would have been snapping at Talos' heels.

  "It's all right," Aglaia said, hoping to reassure it...and herself because she wasn't quite sure what Talos' intentions were. "He's only trying to help me. I think he's waiting for me to replace the torch."

  When she did so, Talos moved forward in a stilted gait and carried her back in the direction from which she had come. When they reached the main passageway that led to the bedchamber, Hephaestus was running toward them. He jolted to a halt and commanded, "Talos, stop!"

  The little tripod leapt between Hephaestus and Talos, ready to defend the bronze giant against his master if needed.

  "Why are you shouting?" Aglaia asked when Talos had come to rest. "Talos is taking me back to the bedchamber. I borrowed one of your walking staffs. I hope you don't mind. Let's go, Talos. I'm sure you have better things to do than stand around here all night holding me."

  Aglaia smiled sweetly at Hephaestus' stupefied expression as Talos carried her past him and into the bedchamber. With a rusty squeal, he bent over and gently set her on the bed. The little tripod marched proudly to its place in the shadows.

  "Thank you, Talos."

  Hephaestus had entered, and Talos walked past him as if he weren't there. Then he rushed across the chamber and loomed over her. "What did you do to Talos?"

  Aglaia drew back. She didn't like the accusation in his tone. She slammed the walking staff against his chest. "I did nothing to him except intrude upon his privacy. I didn't realize it was a chamber and not another passageway. He was kind enough to carry me back."

  Hephaestus stepped back and shook his head. His hair was unbound and thick damp waves fell into his face. He brushed them back with one sweep of his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that you'd done anything to him. Here, let me help you back into bed."

  "I don't need any help," Aglaia protested, but he ignored her. He picked her up and laid her gently on the bed, placing her leg on the pillow and pulling the coverings over her. Then he sat on the edge of the bed only to find the little tripod at his feet.

  Hephaestus raised one shaggy eyebrow in exasperation. "What is wrong with you? Return to where you belong."

  The tripod stood its ground.

  Aglaia leaned over and whispered, "You are very brave, but it's all right. He means no harm."

  The tripod hesitated, then slowly made its way back to its place in the shadows.

  "Have you bespelled my creations?" he asked, but without anger.

  "No, of course not," Aglaia laughed. "If you'll remember, the Nedas were changing before I arrived."

  He nodded. "But Talos wasn't. When he was slain, I brought him back here and repaired him, but he hasn't been the same as before. He stands in the dark and never moves."

  "What tasks have you given him to do?"

  "Tasks?" Hephaestus asked in surprise. "Why, none. I felt he had been ill-used on Crete and thought he should choose for himself what he wants to do."

  "Everyone needs to feel useful," Aglaia said softly. "And he is a creation of bronze, not a person of flesh. He's strong and tireless. Have him help you in your forge, and when he's ready, he'll let you know what he wants to do."

  "Yes, I guess you're right." Hephaestus glanced into the shadows, then leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. "Since you have all the answers, what about the tripod?"

  Aglaia covered her mouth to stifle her giggles in case the little tripod might be offended. "I don't know," she said from behind her hand. "But it was very courageous and protective. It was ready to face Talos when it thought he might be a threat. Then it was ready to face you when it thought you might be angry with Talos and me. You should at least give it a name."

  "I'll think about it," Hephaestus said, and Aglaia saw a hint of a smile and a sparkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. "I'm not exactly happy that you decided to explore. These passages and caves extend farther than even I know about. You could have hurt yourself again."

  "I know, but I wanted to see something beside this cave. All I saw were more passageways and another cave. And the tripod kept me safe. I'm sure if anything had happened, it would have come for you."

  Hephaestus stood. "Tomorrow you will walk, I promise. I have a surprise for you."

  Aglaia brightened. "Really? What is it?"

  "You'll find out tomorrow. Good night, Aglaia."

  "Please, don't leave. I'm not at all sleepy." She patted the bed beside her. "Please sit a while and talk to me."

  Hephaestus seemed hesitant, but Aglaia patted the bed again, flashing her best smile, and he relented. He sat on the edge of the bed.

  "I won't ask you again about my su
rprise, although I'm nearly bursting with curiosity. Tell me something about yourself."

  He shrugged his powerful shoulders. "What do you want to hear?"

  "Yesterday, you jarred my memory of falling from the cliffs when you mentioned that Zeus had thrown you from Olympus." She paused, gauging his reaction, but he didn't seem discomfited talking about it. "I've heard there was another time you were thrown from Olympus, too."

  He frowned, but didn't seem to mind explaining. "My mother Hera. She wasn't happy that I wasn't the physically perfect son she expected me to be, and she threw me from Olympus in disgust. I landed in the sea and was cared for by two ocean nymphs in their cave. That's where I honed my skills by creating jewelry and armor. I should have stayed there, but I eventually returned to Olympus."

  "And the second time?" Aglaia asked.

  "Ah, well, I suppose I was trying to prove to Hera that I was a good son no matter my physical condition. Zeus had chained her for harassing Heracles at sea, and I set her free. He was so angry he hurled me all the way here, to Lemnos. I was crippled even worse than before. The people here cared for me until I healed and I made a home here under Mount Mosychlos."

  "But you still returned to Olympus?"

  He nodded ruefully. "I didn't learn, did I? Yes, I returned to Olympus, and Aphrodite was my wife. I was told about her trysts with Ares, and I planned to catch them. I forged a net so fine it was all but invisible, and when they were in their lovers' embrace, the net caught them and wouldn't let them go. The idea was to humiliate Aphrodite into acquiescence, but Aphrodite cannot be tamed."

  "I'm sorry. Aphrodite is..." Aglaia hesitated a moment then finished, "Aphrodite. But she shouldn't have hurt you."

  "She didn't," he said much too quickly and stood again. "It's late. You need rest and I have work to do."

  He had nearly reached the doorway, when she said, "I know I probably shouldn't ask, but why don't you wear the greave when you come to Olympus?"

  Hephaestus' face hardened and his eyes turned darker. "You're right. You shouldn't ask," he replied abruptly and was gone.