Jason's Quest

Be Careful What You Wish For

     Jason, Medea, and her brother, Absyrtus, broke into full sprints down the twisting paths toward the beach. Aeetes gathered a thunderhead of guardsmen at their rear. With Eos' first dawn-light hovering just below the horizon, the Colchian guards followed in hot pursuit like squalls chasing gales.

     Jason stole a glance over his shoulder to gauge his pursuers, and then sounded a verbal alarm as he approached the camp. Jason beamed that every man stood at the ready, prepared to his teeth for battle.

     "Put to sea!" Jason blared

     Orpheus scampered aboard the vessel with Phineas, while Peleus bounded over the gangways to loose the ship from its moorings. Zetes and Calais flew to the prow and stood, arms skyward, summoning their father, Boreas, whose feisty gusts could combat the approaching forces. Castor and Pollux both stood on the docks with swords drawn, muscles tensed to pounce like cornered tigers.

     The broad-backed rowers slid into their compartments, preparing to push away from the docks. Jason gave Medea the fleece and ensured that she and her brother boarded safely before joining the heroic twins to stave off the coming onslaught.

     Aeetes' chariot, drawn by two hellish mares, roared down the pass as hordes of archers flooded the beach, setting fiery cauldrons at their feet. Seeing that the Colchians were not going to storm the retreating ship, Jason and the twins sheathed their swords and sprinted to the edge of the docks. There, they leapt with all of their mortal strength and barely grabbed a hold of the side of the Argo as it cleared the end of the docks.

     Jason and the twins scrambled aboard the ship with precious time to spare. Dawn appeared in the sky for a moment, Jason thought, but it was only the fiery shafts from Colchian archers hurtling toward the ship. Argonauts crowded the prow, forming a tortoise shell of shields to protect the deck and ranks of rowers. The first volley of arrows riddled the shields with a clatter. From under the shell, Jason noticed the flaming arrow points and sighed with relief.

     Eos' coral chargers edged above the lapis horizon. And as they did so, Boreas' winds barreled in from the north. They swept in with uncommon intensity, a stampede of opaque, ghostly stallions trampling the treetops, dissolving into wrathful vengeance. The North Wind bore down on the Colchians, hurling men from their feet and casting their streaming arrows far afield. Zetes and Calais smiled, for they knew that their prayers had been heard.

     Arrows thwarted, Aeetes and his soldiers boarded a larger vessel to give chase. The two ships shot toward the Bosphorus Strait, the only exit from the Black Sea.

     Boreas blew Jason's Argo ship out to sea as far as he could. At a certain point, the ships would share the same wind, so he withdrew, allowing mortals to battle out the balance. Jason saw their lead dwindling and barked to his men, "Faster, men! Row with power! If he reaches us, he will show us no mercy."

     As the Argo cleaved the water with ever increasing speed, Medea held Jason with her bewitching eyes. She slid one hand around his shoulder, and the other around his waist. "Worry not. We will escape, my love."

     "Do you know something I don't?" Jason asked.

     She placed a fingertip to his lips. "Trust me. Have I failed you yet?"

     Before Jason was any wiser, Medea slipped his dagger from its bronze and leather sheath and eased it under the rope that cinched her chiton. With Aeetes' vessel closing with great velocity, drawing within bow range, Medea glided to where Absyrtus stood at the stern.

     She embraced her brother from behind, reveling in the strength of sibling love. He closed his eyes and remarked, "They're closing, sister."

     Medea spun her brother around and gazed deeply into his soft eyes. Her grip on his shoulders tightened in a motherly fashion. Wiping his floppy curls from his eyes, Medea spoke in calming tones, "Brother, you know I love you, yes?"

     "Surely, Medea. Why?"

     Medea wrapped her arms around her brother again. It was a tighter embrace than before. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and jammed the dagger's honed point into his heart from behind. He gasped. His groans reverberated in her ear. Swiftly, she wheeled him back around to avoid the look in his eyes, and then pushed him overboard.

     Jason froze, his eyes wide, his mouth agape, unable to utter a word. It took a handful of heartbeats before he was able to breathe again.

     Medea padded her way back to Jason. "It was the only way for us to be together," Medea soothed with a placid expression, icier than the waters running the northern hills. "My father will stop to retrieve him, ensuring our escape through the strait."

     Dumbstruck, Jason stared at Medea with fearful adoration. Over her shoulder, the Colchian ship stopped to save the prince, as Medea had predicted. The lost time could not possibly be recovered. Driven by the frenzied drum cadence, Jason's bare-chested oarsmen locked into a racing stroke, rolling to a thunderous crescendo.

     "Straighten your brow, dear Jason," Medea said without even turning to see her brother's rescue. Her delicate fingertip traced his brow, and then trailed down his cheek. "We're safe now. You have the fleece, and you have me. Never shall you want for anything else."

     Jason replied gravely, "Yes. We are safe," He paused to reflect on Medea's words, and her power. "At every turn, you've done what needed to be done."

     "And so I shall, at every turn to come. I will always be there for you, my king."

     "My King..." Jason reflected. "That has a certain ringing to it. And, once I return with the Golden Fleece, the crown will indeed be mine."

     Medea's smile reached her eyes. "And mine."