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Back Bright Air Black
Chapters (53)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. PRAISE
  3. ALSO BY
  4. AUTHOR BIO
  5. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  6. EPIGRAPHS
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. BOOK TWO
  39. 1
  40. 2
  41. 3
  42. 4
  43. 5
  44. 6
  45. 7
  46. 8
  47. 9
  48. 10
  49. 11
  50. 12
  51. 13
  52. 14
  53. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Medea would laugh, remind him that all kings claim this, remind him of the long generations that have come before, but she can see Pelias believes. Not in gods, not in Poseidon, but in power. He believes absolutely that his power is without limit, and he is capable of anything. His face close to hers now, hoping, ready and wanting to invent some new cruelty, something to eclipse all he has done before, and he would use her body for this.

I’m sorry, she says quietly. I understand now.

27

27

Pelias at the feast. Drinking wine, welcoming the Argonauts, shouting inanities, ripping at pieces of meat. Jason and Medea mute to one side, and just behind them, dozens of guards in the throne room, holding shields and spears, ready. This large terrace, columns and a view out to the sea. Long tables, guests and slaves.

The chair he sits in carved of oak, high backed, broad and raised. King above these other kings. Gray-black hair, pitted face dark, hidden by his beard. Rough large hands in fists, voice louder than any other. Wearing the skin of a lion, brought from some other land. Golden helmet set on the table before him, gold-wound spear at his side.

The fleece on the table, also, waiting, and finally Pelias stands. All Iolcans instantly quiet. Argonauts still shouting and laughing, but then they turn and see him and are quiet too.

Argonauts, he says. My guests. Welcome. Feast and drink and have whatever you want. You have brought my nephew back safely, and I will never forget that.

Pelias looks at the Argonauts, remains silent, lets each of them remember the prophecy and consider what they’ve done in returning Jason here.

He raises his hand and guards pour from the throne room, line up in ranks behind him, an even larger contingent arising from the broad stone staircase at the end of the terrace. They surround the guests on all sides, spear and shield and war helmet, then all is quiet again.

Pelias walks slowly around the table where he sits with Jason and Medea, his daughters and other family and court, stands in front and picks up the fleece in one hand, holds it high.

This is the skin of a sheep, he says. A simple skin. It has a bit of gold dust on it, gold which is easily removed or easily added. He scratches with a finger at the hide then holds up that finger to show the gold. Dust, he says.

He brings the fleece to the first table of guests, hands it to them. Each of you, hold this fleece, scratch off a bit of gold.

Pelias returns to stand before Jason, points at him. My nephew claims he has returned with the golden fleece, just as his father Aeson before him tried to claim my throne. Jason would have it now.