They had only just stepped into the temple. A mother, her two daughters, and a baby. By their side was another priestess. Their mouths hung open, eyes wide. Medusa tried to cry out to them and, at that moment, realised her mouth was no longer gagged. Her arms no longer pinned, but flat by her side, her legs spread open. Poseidon was gone. Too numb to move or speak or cry, she lay on the cold marble, her eyes locked on the mother and, as the woman clutched her infant to her chest, undisguised disgust adorned her face. Medusa’s heart fell like a stone statue and shattered into a thousand pieces.
Chapter 7
The family left, the Priestess ushering them outside. They said things, shouted things, screamed things at her as they went. Not that Medusa could hear their words. Her mind was a fog, and her arms were red and bruised with the fingerprints she had seen so often on women who came to her. Pain spasmed through her cells. Pain in places she did not know could feel pain. Her breaths were juddering, shallow, and for the briefest time, she thought that perhaps, if she let them, they would just stop altogether. If she closed her eyes, her heart would slow, and the air would escape her, never to return. But the moment did not last. Girding against the pain, she rolled her body over and pushed herself onto her knees.
With her head bowed towards the melting candles, anyone who had entered would have thought she was in prayer, the same way she had been those long minutes ago when Poseidon entered the temple. But a twist in time was not something any god would offer. All their words, all their promises. All she could hope was that her goddess would avenge her.
After some time, the tears stopped, and the pain drifted back into a dull throb. Would this be it forever? she wondered. This hollowness that ached all the way to her bones.
‘Tell me it is not true.’ Medusa jerked around, a sharp pain stabbing her stomach. The Goddess stood before her, dagger in hand. ‘Tell me what I hear are lies.’
Medusa’s lungs heaved, her eyes instantly awash with tears. ‘I am sorry My Priestess, I am so sorry.’
Athena’s eyes widened. ‘So, it is true? You allowed him in here. Into you?’
Medusa pushed herself upwards and pressed her palms against the serpents of her goddess’ robe.
‘Allowed? No, never.’
Athena shook her head.
‘You were seen Medusa. You were seen eyes wide, on your back, moaning with pleasure, allowing him to enter you.’
Medusa shook her head back in return. The words of the Goddess blurring in her mind.
‘He forced me. He tricked me. He told me he was married.’
Athena’s face wrinkled in disgust.
‘You would allow a married man between your legs, in my temple?’
‘Please my Goddess —’
‘You would defile my temple because of your lust?’
‘No!’ Medusa wept. ‘Please, you do not understand …’
The words had flown from her mouth. She gasped at the air with all the breath she possessed, but she could not draw them back within her. Athena stepped back, swiping Medusa’s hands away from her. Her eyes were black with rage.
‘I do not understand?’
‘Please, my —’
‘I, a goddess, the Goddess of Wisdom, do not understand what you, a mortal, is saying? I understand plenty, my child.’
‘Please, please ...’ Medusa grovelled on the ground at the Goddess’ feet.
‘I have seen the eyes men show to you, and I have seen the coyness you return.’
‘No —’
‘I have seen how your words linger, and your gaze is oh so full of compassion.’ She punctured the air with every word.
‘Athena, my —’
‘How dare you use my name. I put my faith and trust in you. Took you in when your father wished to protect you from the lustful eyes of men, but maybe it was they who needed protecting from your wanton ways. And how am I repaid? You sully my temple, my sanctuary with your lust.’
‘I would not … I did not …’ Sounds caught and stumbled on her lips as she fought for the words that she knew in her heart were true. She raised herself to her feet. ‘I did not want his gaze,’ she said. ‘I do not want any man’s gaze.’
A smile curled on Athena’s lips, her grey eyes shimmering and cold.
‘Well, we shall see if your word is true,’ she replied.
The Goddess had vanished as quickly as she entered, knocking Medusa to the ground in a blaze of light. Her head smacked against the ridged white marble pillar. This is my end, she reflected, as a pain burned across her scalp, equal to a thousand tiny needles forcing up through her skin. Athena’s farewell to me has been my death.
Another priestess approached. Medusa saw her shadow hovering close by, but she did not raise her head. She did not want to see the venom or pity in the woman’s eyes any more than she wanted others to see the shame in hers.
‘Leave her,’ someone called. A sigh of relief wafted through Medusa. Her mind drifted back to her family’s groves. What she would give to walk beneath those trees one last time and brush her hand against the iridescent leaves of the olive trees. What she would have exchanged to pluck a ripe fig and feel its juices running down her chin. Closing her eyes, Medusa thought only of the figs and the groves as a new pain roiled through her body. This must be death, she thought, as the sensation rippled through her, rushing towards the top of her head. Noises like whispered gossip or leaves rustling in the breeze hissed in her ears. Her eyes continued to sting with pain. Death will come soon, she told herself. The Goddess would have granted her a swift death, at least. Yet death did not come. Minutes later, an awareness began to return to her body. Still
