Free Electra by Kerry Greenwood Page A

radiance on the hillsides, and Eumides shall have a lesson in herbalism. Will you come, Maiden?' she asked me.
    No one had ever asked me before to make a choice if I came or stayed. I had been doing exactly as I was told for my whole life, and I did not know what to say. I was comfortable in the square and I liked watching the people, so I ventured, 'I think that I would like to stay here.' It was easy. And Cassandra simply smiled.

Cassandra
    Tearing off his dirty tunic, Eumides flung himself down into the rich spring green and complained, 'I tire of land.'
    'How can you tire of it when it's so beautiful?' asked Chryse, doing the same and lying down beside him. 'Sniff, Trojan! That's a mountain bouquet out of Achaea that a Princess might gather.'
    'A Princess has gathered it,' he grinned as I dropped flowers onto his naked chest.
    'Orchis for male potency, primroses for sweetness, daisies for the sun, fieldfares for wealth, cyclamen for hidden loves,' I chanted, scattering them. Eumides took a deep breath. The rings in his ears glinted, and the purple Orchis was netted in his hair.
    'It's beautiful,' he conceded. 'But I belong to Ocean, the salt river that encircles the world.'
    'We shall have sea enough soon,' said Chryse. 'We must reach the Isthmus of Corinth and then take a boat for Khirra, thence inland to Delphi. The Gods only know what the roads are like.'
    'And the Corinthian Gulf will be swarming with pirates,' commented Eumides. He did not seem unduly disturbed by this prospect.
    'Do you think it was improper of me to impersonate a Goddess, Chryse?' I asked. Eumides pulled me down to lie between them and I smelt mint and flowers, crushed by our weight. 'You are the Goddess,' he said, kissing me. He exuded a sleepy heat. Eumides would never engage in deep philosophical debates, he would never worry about an ethical problem, and questions of honesty would never keep him awake at night. It was part of his disreputable charm.
    'The women of Artemision would have died tonight,' said Chryse judiciously, his tone oddly unsuited to someone lying half-naked in spring pasture. 'And you didn't present yourselves to them as a Goddess; they made that assumption themselves. So I believe that you did right.
    'Their women live, the village will survive, and they will consider themselves blessed. Unless they are so boastful about their divine visitors that their neighbours rise up and massacre them out of sheer envy, they will be fat and insufferable in a year's time. I think you did well.'
    His opinion mattered to me. 'Lord, I thank you. Now, if my status as a Divine Virgin is not to be blasphemously imperilled, we must get up and pick herbs. What are you looking for, Chryse?'
    Their arms released me reluctantly. I was equally reluctant, but I did not want to risk the wrath of vengeful Artemis if she noticed that her avatar was playing spring games on a flowery hillside.
    'Aha, borage,' he pounced on a plant with small dark-blue flowers and greying furry leaves. 'What do you call this, Lady?'
    'Rabbit's ears, blood purifier. Now if we can find some all-heal-'
    'Valerian?' he hazarded. We strayed down the mountain and I found a large stand of it. I dug carefully with my knife and broke off a piece of root no longer than my hand.
    'That will be enough for the whole village. You want to calm them, don't you? Perhaps we should give some to our friend?'
    Eumides, perhaps a little elevated by the scented meadows, was dancing along the goat path, singing a very rude Thracian song.
    'I'd make a decoction and add this to their barley gruel,' I said.
    Chryse beamed. His rare smile was to be treasured. He seemed to radiate joy.
    'Healer, I thought that was my own discovery. Though I would add basil for healing and moisture - their stomachs must be shrunken and dry - and, let's see, it's too early for birch sap, we'll have to use young nettles for strength.'
    'Basil is an excellent idea, but I haven't seen any nettles.'
    From the goat path we