“Why would they want to be part of such nonsense?” Castor demanded.
“Because they have to be part of it. If this ‘nonsense’ succeeds, we can return home with no one aware that a Spartan royal princess was ever out of her proper place in the world,” I countered. “Besides, they’ll be glad to play along, just to keep themselves amused for a while. Iolaus and Milo will help you.”
“Iolaus…” Castor repeated the name grimly. “He and I are going to have a few words about all this when the Argo returns. Or are you going to tell me that he had no idea who ‘Glaucus’ really was?”
I snorted. “Of course not. He’s known me since Calydon, and he recognized me at once when we met in Iolkos. But you can’t blame him for bringing me along. I didn’t give him any choice.” I folded my arms and smiled.
“A little snip like you forced a grown man, a proven hero like Iolaus, to do your bidding?” Castor said. He grimaced. “Unfortunately, I can almost believe it.”
“Well? Will you do things my way, too?”
My brothers exchanged an uncertain look. Polydeuces sighed. “I guess it’s better than the alternative.”
“What alternative?” Castor asked.
By the time our ship pulled away from that Colchian fishing village, my new identity was established. I was Atalanta to the crew of the Argo, though for some of the men I was merely an ordinary girl with the same name as the famous huntress.
Jason himself invited me to join him at the prow of the Argo when we sailed. It was as if my new identity had created a new Jason, one who was all charm and compliments. He made such a show of welcoming me as that Atalanta in front of the whole crew that my relief became suspicion. Not even one question to test me? I wondered. What’s he up to?
I had my answer a little while later, from Orpheus. Jason’s effusive words were still ringing false in my ears when I went aft to the helm in time to overhear the Thracian singer tell Milo, “What luck for Jason. He’s lost Herakles, but Atalanta’s fame will do something to make up for that. Even if he never performs a heroic act himself, he’ll be renowned as the man who commanded heroes. Her name alone will be enough to make people remember his.” Then he saw me. “Hail, great huntress,” he murmured with a faint, knowing smile.
So that was it. Jason treated me as if I truly were Atalanta the huntress because it served his own purposes, not because I’d fooled him for an instant. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that many of the other crewmen were acting the same way just so they could go home someday and say, “There she was, the same Atalanta who helped Meleager bring down the Calydonian boar, the huntress whose beauty destroyed heroes! She always fought at my side, you know. The poor girl was crazy in love with me, but I like real women.”
I wondered what Atalanta herself would do if she ever heard such nonsense. But what could she do, once the stories spread far enough? I thought. Even if she swears the holiest oath that she was never on the Argo, who’ll believe her? If the songs are more exciting than the truth, they’ll become the truth that everyone remembers. Atalanta, my friend, forgive me. I promise you that whatever happens, I’ll bring no dishonor to your name.
8
THE KING’S DAUGHTER
As the day went on, I discovered that being Atalanta had its privileges. No one expected me to continue my duties as Iolaus’s weapons bearer, and they didn’t expect me to take a place at the oars with the rest of the crew either. I was free to stroll the length of the Argo, to watch the passing shoreline, to eat and drink whenever I liked. I took advantage of it all without a second thought, and anyone who claims he’d never have done the same thing, given the chance, is probably lying. I only wished that the real Atalanta had been treated with such honor in Calydon. Still, better a heroine than a princess, I thought gaily.
Iolaus, and Milo too, benefited from my new fame. Many of the other Argonauts had decided that the only possible reason for a woman to volunteer for a perilous voyage was to be with the man she loved. They just couldn’t agree on which of my friends was the irresistible fellow. Some argued that Milo’s youth put him out of the running; others countered that he was old enough, and called attention to his first shadowy growth of whiskers as proof. Some said it must be Iolaus, who wasn’t just a hero in his own right but shared Herakles’ glory for his part in slaying the Hydra. Some played it safe and took both sides. At first the whispers made Iolaus and Milo uncomfortable, but it didn’t last long. When a man stops looking embarrassed and starts wearing a preening little smile, I’d say he’s gotten used to his new reputation.
There was a good wind and a calm sea with us that morning. Everyone knew Argus had proclaimed that Aea was only a day’s sail away, so the rowers worked harder than ever, energized by the thought of reaching our voyage’s goal. I took my place at the prow so that I could enjoy the sensation of skimming across the waves like a white-winged gull.
Argus joined me, resting his hand on the carved scene showing Helle falling to her death from the back of the flying ram. We didn’t speak at first, both of us captured by the spell of the sea. When I stole a glance at him, his face was blissful and serene. I was happy to see him so contented until I remembered how this voyage was fated to end for him. He’d told me the Pythia’s prediction: “She said if I went home again, I’d die. She said if I didn’t go home again, I’d live a long life, but a forgotten one, and I’d die without ever having another sight of the sea.”