food. She was
raised there, an orphan abandoned at the temple steps, raised by the priestesses. She had
been sent out to bring the beggars food, he among them. He had never even looked at her.
But she had noticed him. If he had been singing under
115
her window, desiring her love -- she would have been long gone from the temple.
How she hated Hyacinth. What foolish arrogance, to throw away that kind of adoration, a
love Iphigenia would have given anything to possess.
Hyacinth noticed Iphigenia and turned away from her daydreams at the window. "Is it time
to go?" she asked.
"Yes, the high priestess is ready. I've come to get you. Will you be wearing your lovely green earrings to the celebration?"
Hyacinth shook her head as she passed Iphigenia in the doorway. "Are you coming?"
"In a minute." Iphigenia waited until Hyacinth had gone down the steps to the Great Hall.
Then she scooped the earrings out of the dish.
If she could not have the wild boy's love, then she would have his token.
Pressing the earrings to her lips in a breathless, greedy kiss, she hurried away to hide them
in her chamber.
The parade to honor Athena had its finish back at the wide steps of the temple. Hyacinth
stood behind the high priestess. A statue of Athena had been paraded through the streets.
It was a third the size of the one in the Great Hall, but imposing just the same.
A sea of people had gathered in front of the temple.
116
The head of the Athenian government stepped forward. "To honor Athena," he proclaimed,
"we present the winners of this year's Olympic Games."
Macar stepped forward, his medals around his neck, head high, eyes steely, self-impressed
as ever. His gaze shot up to Hyacinth on the steps. For a second their eyes met before
Macar looked away. No doubt he was ashamed at having refused to marry her after her
dowry was lost at sea. Naturally, no one blamed him.
Hyacinth shivered, recalling what a narrow escape she'd had. Marriage to Macar would have
been a loveless, dull conformity. Life as a priestess was infinitely better. She heard he'd
married and was expecting a child. His new wife was probably perfectly happy to have such
a prize for a husband. Hyacinth hoped so, anyway.
Two other medal-wearing young men followed Macar. And then came Artem, his medal in
hand.
He looked at nothing but Hyacinth. His direct gaze caused her to look away with
embarrassment, certain that everyone could see how he focused on her.
Yet it seemed that only Iphigenia was aware of it. She sent Hyacinth a darting glance which
Hyacinth dared not acknowledge.
Each winner was asked to address the crowd. When it was Artem's turn, he spoke to the
high priestess. "I would offer to Athena this Olympic gold medal and all its worth
117
in the hope that I might claim your priestess Hyacinth as my bride."
The crowd gasped at the boldness of his declaration.
"I make this plea," Artem continued, "for I know she loves me but will not be mine because she would not disgrace the goddess by breaking her oath. Yet I would rather end my days
now than live without her in my life."
The high priestess stepped forward to reply. "Your plea is touching, young man, but
Hyacinth has sworn a pledge as binding as any marriage oath. I cannot accept your medal
nor release her to you."
Turning back toward the temple, she bid Hyacinth and the other priestesses to follow her in.
As she was about to enter, Hyacinth cast a glance over her shoulder. Artem stood
with his eyes boring into her.
For the first time that afternoon, the temple of Athena seemed to Hyacinth like a living
tomb. Kneeling before the immense statue, she prayed to the goddess for strength and self-
discipline. To go away with Artem would be to invite ruin not only for herself but for her
family. Oh, but the urge to do it was overpowering, especially after today.
She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize another person had come into the room
and now stood beside her.
raised there, an orphan abandoned at the temple steps, raised by the priestesses. She had
been sent out to bring the beggars food, he among them. He had never even looked at her.
But she had noticed him. If he had been singing under
115
her window, desiring her love -- she would have been long gone from the temple.
How she hated Hyacinth. What foolish arrogance, to throw away that kind of adoration, a
love Iphigenia would have given anything to possess.
Hyacinth noticed Iphigenia and turned away from her daydreams at the window. "Is it time
to go?" she asked.
"Yes, the high priestess is ready. I've come to get you. Will you be wearing your lovely green earrings to the celebration?"
Hyacinth shook her head as she passed Iphigenia in the doorway. "Are you coming?"
"In a minute." Iphigenia waited until Hyacinth had gone down the steps to the Great Hall.
Then she scooped the earrings out of the dish.
If she could not have the wild boy's love, then she would have his token.
Pressing the earrings to her lips in a breathless, greedy kiss, she hurried away to hide them
in her chamber.
The parade to honor Athena had its finish back at the wide steps of the temple. Hyacinth
stood behind the high priestess. A statue of Athena had been paraded through the streets.
It was a third the size of the one in the Great Hall, but imposing just the same.
A sea of people had gathered in front of the temple.
116
The head of the Athenian government stepped forward. "To honor Athena," he proclaimed,
"we present the winners of this year's Olympic Games."
Macar stepped forward, his medals around his neck, head high, eyes steely, self-impressed
as ever. His gaze shot up to Hyacinth on the steps. For a second their eyes met before
Macar looked away. No doubt he was ashamed at having refused to marry her after her
dowry was lost at sea. Naturally, no one blamed him.
Hyacinth shivered, recalling what a narrow escape she'd had. Marriage to Macar would have
been a loveless, dull conformity. Life as a priestess was infinitely better. She heard he'd
married and was expecting a child. His new wife was probably perfectly happy to have such
a prize for a husband. Hyacinth hoped so, anyway.
Two other medal-wearing young men followed Macar. And then came Artem, his medal in
hand.
He looked at nothing but Hyacinth. His direct gaze caused her to look away with
embarrassment, certain that everyone could see how he focused on her.
Yet it seemed that only Iphigenia was aware of it. She sent Hyacinth a darting glance which
Hyacinth dared not acknowledge.
Each winner was asked to address the crowd. When it was Artem's turn, he spoke to the
high priestess. "I would offer to Athena this Olympic gold medal and all its worth
117
in the hope that I might claim your priestess Hyacinth as my bride."
The crowd gasped at the boldness of his declaration.
"I make this plea," Artem continued, "for I know she loves me but will not be mine because she would not disgrace the goddess by breaking her oath. Yet I would rather end my days
now than live without her in my life."
The high priestess stepped forward to reply. "Your plea is touching, young man, but
Hyacinth has sworn a pledge as binding as any marriage oath. I cannot accept your medal
nor release her to you."
Turning back toward the temple, she bid Hyacinth and the other priestesses to follow her in.
As she was about to enter, Hyacinth cast a glance over her shoulder. Artem stood
with his eyes boring into her.
For the first time that afternoon, the temple of Athena seemed to Hyacinth like a living
tomb. Kneeling before the immense statue, she prayed to the goddess for strength and self-
discipline. To go away with Artem would be to invite ruin not only for herself but for her
family. Oh, but the urge to do it was overpowering, especially after today.
She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize another person had come into the room
and now stood beside her.
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