We didn’t make a very impressive showing as we marched from the Argo into the heart of Lord Aetes’ stronghold. By order of the king, only ten of the Argo’s crew were invited into his presence. Besides Jason and Argus, our group consisted of Acastus, Orpheus, my brothers, Iolaus, Zetes, Kalais, and me. The rest of our men were forbidden to leave the dock until Lord Aetes said otherwise. Milo was miserable.
Argus’s attendance was essential. Aside from that, it was Jason who decided who would come to the palace. There was cool calculation behind every choice he made. Orpheus, Iolaus, Zetes, Kalais, and “Atalanta” were part of the group because we were all famous, in our own ways. The divinely gifted singer, the nephew of great Herakles, the twin Harpy-hunters, and the legendary huntress were easy choices. Castor and Polydeuces accompanied us at my request. I wasn’t afraid to meet Lord Aetes, but I didn’t want my brothers to worry, having me out of their sight for so long. They’d become so protective of me that I feared they might do something foolish, like breaking the Colchian king’s ban on leaving the Argo. I was willing to sacrifice a little independence if it meant keeping my brothers safe. As for Acastus, he was chosen even though he was Jason’s rival for the throne of Iolkos. What better way to throw off any suspicions that Jason might be plotting against Lord Pelias’s son than by making sure to include him?
To his credit, the Colchian king saw to it that a wagon laden with fresh provisions was brought down to the ship by the same company of torchbearers assigned to escort us up to the palace. Every one of them was dressed just as richly as the spearmen, many wearing heavy gold studs in their ears. If they were servants, they were well paid. If they were slaves, then gold must be as common as pebbles in Colchis. Their appearance put ours to shame. Only Jason was dressed in something better than travel-worn garments.
The citadel gate was far more massive and imposing than the one that guarded Mykenae. The archway into the palace grounds was flanked by titanic winged beasts with writhing serpents’ bodies, taloned paws, and fangs like scythes. Watch fires burned in footed bronze pots at either side of the gate, making the creatures’ painted scales blaze blue, green, red, and gold in the flickering light. I stopped and marveled at the monsters.
“Never seen a dragon before?” Castor whispered mischievously in my ear.
“Is that what they look like?” I whistled in admiration. “I heard that a dragon guards the Fleece, but I didn’t know what sort of animal it was. Are those carvings life-size?”
“How would I know?” my brother said as we passed between the awesome guardians of the gate.
Lord Aetes’ palace was larger and more luxurious than any I’d ever known. Wherever I looked, I caught the wink and gleam of gold, the flash of brilliant colors. In spite of the wealth on display all around me, I saw that there were a few things about Lord Aetes’ palace that reminded me of home. We were brought to a waiting room just outside of the king’s great hall and offered wine, the same treatment my own father gave to ambassadors. After that, a dour, hawk-faced man came to lead us before Lord Aetes.
The king of Colchis sat on a painted stone throne, its high back crowned with the image of a dragon’s head. There was a wide fire pit between him and us, a grander version of the hearth that burned in my father’s hall. Many attendants stood against the walls, minding the lights of countless clay lamps. I peered through the smoke and dancing flames. The king was a dark-skinned man dressed in robes of dazzling splendor, a tall gold crown atop his long white hair. He looked old enough to be Argus’s grandfather, but when he gestured for his servants to bring him the bread and salt, his movements were strong and sure.
There was a second, smaller throne next to his, but it was empty. I guessed that either Lord Aetes’ queen was dead or it wasn’t the custom for her to be part of this ceremony. Then I saw a flare of scarlet and a sparkle of gold just behind the smaller throne.
“Daughter, why are you acting like a little mouse again? Come here and help me welcome our guests!” He spoke our language, out of courtesy. His command boomed like a breaking storm wave, and the lurker stepped into the light. She looked a little older than my brothers, with pale skin and dull black hair, though her eyes were remarkable, a deep, radiant amber that lit up her face. She cringed under the weight of her gorgeous robes and golden ornaments, as if she wanted nothing more than to disappear.
Still, she obeyed her father, taking the bread and salt from him and serving each of us. Her hands trembled, and when I thanked her, the only response I got was a tiny gasp before she fled to the next guest. Lord Aetes watched her every move.
When we’d been properly welcomed, the king stood up and opened his arms to Argus. “My beloved grandson, I thank the gods for the joy of seeing your face again before I die. I wish with all my heart that you’d come back to us sooner.”
Argus smiled, but made no move to approach his grandfather. “You’ll have to forgive me for staying away so long, Lord Aetes. As dearly as I love you, the idea of being put to death on my return to Aea kept me away. It’s a trivial thing, the fear of losing one’s life, but it means a lot to me.”
Lord Aetes scowled. “Your father, Phrixus, was wrong to exile you, but every man has the right to rule his own family. I thought Phrixus was unjust, but I couldn’t intercede. I had a good reason.” He didn’t elaborate.