I Gifted My Mistress to Hera
“Argos, take Io away as ordered.”
At Hera’s words, I turned my head first.
“You said it was a fake?”
“Precisely because it’s a fake, we follow it through to the end.”
Hera unfolded the order she had crumpled in her fist.
“If Io fails to appear at the designated place, the culprit will assume the plan has been exposed. Conversely, if the escort proceeds normally, they will move to recover the evidence she holds.”
Argos’s hundred eyes all turned toward her at once.
“May I deceive Lady Hera’s command?”
“You are not deceiving me.”
Hera lifted the order.
“You are deceiving the one who stole my name.”
I looked at her for a moment. I had thought her only cold and beautiful, yet she was already calculating every path the culprit would take.
I chose an excellent partner, I thought. Getting her formal permission would still be a rough road, but still.
Hera picked up the leash of the white heifer on the bed.
“I will take Io to my temple.”
“Feels like handing my mistress over to my fiancée.”
She slowly turned.
“And who was it that claimed she was not your mistress?”
“On paper, that is.”
“Would you like to share a prison cell with the one who forged that document?”
“It was a joke. I’ll keep quiet.”
Hera held the leash out to me, then drew it back again.
“No. I will take her myself.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone must believe I am snatching your mistress away from you.”
I was impressed.
“You know how to craft a sensational story.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think the mortals will love it.”
Hera did not answer. Instead she picked up the white lilies left on the bed and smacked me across the face with the bouquet.
Thwack!
“A prop to make the scene more convincing.”
“The flowers are innocent!”
Hera led the white heifer out of the bedchamber. Argos followed close behind.
The corridor was already packed with priests, handmaidens, and envoys drawn by the commotion. The tableau before them was perfect: the disordered bedchamber, the torn priestess robes, the white heifer draped in my cloak, Hera holding the lilies, and me with the black brand of the curse still marking my upper body.
Someone sucked in a sharp breath.
“The King of the Gods truly did take Io…”
Whispers spread like ripples. Hera declared coldly, loud enough for every ear to catch.
“This heifer will be kept at my temple.”
She seized the leash in perfect keeping with the act.
“Without my permission?”
Hera’s eyes narrowed.
“Do I require permission?”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Then let go of the leash.”
I released it without protest. As she brushed past, Hera’s lips barely moved.
“One hour from now. The olive grove west of the temple.”
“May I follow?”
“Just don’t get caught.”
Hera and Argos departed with Io. I started after them, only to notice the bard already seated at the foot of the temple steps, furiously scribbling on a scrap of parchment. I snatched the paper and read.
The King of the Gods lusted after beautiful Io.
Jealous Hera turned the maiden into a heifer.
“The incident isn’t even over yet.”
The bard looked put-upon.
“The first couplet came out so well.”
“I’m the one who turned Io into a heifer.”
“Having Lady Hera do it is far more sensational.”
My hand, ready to tear the paper, stopped. The rumor had to spread if the culprit was to believe the plan had succeeded.
“Leave the second line.”
“And the first?”
“I don’t care for the part about me lusting after her.”
The bard asked in all seriousness,
“If I cut that, will anyone even listen?”
I handed the paper back.
“This is why history is terrifying.”
I slipped away from every gaze and climbed onto the temple roof. I flicked a single gold coin into the air. Before it could hit the ground, someone snagged it from midair. A youth in winged sandals was already crouching at the edge of the roof.
“You called, Your Majesty?”
It was Hermes.
“I need someone followed.”
“Shall I steal, deceive, or kidnap?”
“Why are all the options crimes?”
“I learned them from you, sire.”
I pointed at the receding figure of Argos.
“Follow that giant. Do not get caught under any circumstances.”
Hermes scanned the hundred eyes.
“He has a hundred of them.”
“That’s why I called you.”
Just as he prepared to dive off the roof, I caught his shoulder.
“One more thing.”
“Speak.”
“No matter what happens, do not kill him.”
Hermes’s eyes narrowed.
“Even if he attacks?”
“Knocking him out is fine.”
I drove the point home.
“Killing him is not.”
In the olive grove west of the temple, Hera walked the forest path with the white heifer. Argos kept watch in every direction with his hundred eyes. I observed them from a tree some distance away. Hermes, disguised as a shepherd, played a pipe at the edge of the woods.
Hera asked Argos,
“Where did you receive the order?”
“I found it in the temple’s messenger box.”
“No one delivered it in person?”
“No one.”
“And because it bore my seal, you never doubted it.”
Argos bowed his head.
“I am deeply ashamed.”
Hera did not scold him.
“The fault lies with the one who deceived you.”
The hundred pupils wavered, unable to settle.
“Being deceived does not erase my disloyalty.”
Hera adjusted her grip on Io’s leash.
“Then do not commit disloyalty again.”
When Argos moved to kneel, Hera stopped him.
“We cannot end the performance yet.”
The place named in the order was beneath an ancient olive tree. Argos tied Io’s leash to the trunk. The white heifer lowed anxiously. Hera stroked its brow.
“Endure just a little longer.”
Then she spoke deliberately loud.
“See to it that Zeus never approaches this woman again!”
Argos matched the act.
“I will keep all one hundred eyes open!”
Every one of those eyes swung toward the tree where I hid. I ducked behind a branch.
Those eyeballs are a seriously inconvenient ability.
Night deepened, yet no one appeared. I was beginning to consider hunting the culprit myself when Hera unfolded the order once more.
“This is strange.”
“What is?”
I dropped from the tree. Hera pointed to a single sentence.
“‘Argos Panoptes shall watch Io with every eye so that she cannot escape.’”
“Doesn’t that just mean use all hundred?”
“If you order Argos to keep watch, he naturally uses them all. There is no reason to write it out.”
Hera’s gaze swept over Argos’s body. Most of the eyes were fixed on Io and the forest. Yet one eye at the nape of his neck faced a different direction entirely.
It was looking at me.
“Argos.”
“Command me.”
“What is the eye on the back of your neck watching?”
“The back of my neck… my lady?”
Argos could not even sense that the eye existed. I approached him slowly.
“Don’t move.”
The eye at his nape turned black. Black threads unspooled from it and linked to the others. One. Two. All one hundred eyes blackened in turn. Argos clutched his head.
“Get back…!”
His massive club rose. His arm moved against his will. Its first target was Io. Hera’s golden threads snared the club.
“Argos, listen to my voice.”
“Ghk… run!”
The black eyes swung toward Hera. The club’s aim shifted. The curse that had stolen Hera’s name now saw the true Hera as a false one defying its command.
Lightning gathered in my hand. One strike would end it.
“Do not kill him!”
I dismissed the lightning and threw myself in front of her.
Crunch!
The club smashed into my shoulder. Bone cracked; one knee hit the ground. For the first time, Hera’s voice shook.
“Zeus!”
Argos howled.
“Flee! I cannot stop the next blow!”
I gripped the broken shoulder and rose.
“I’m fine.”
“You look anything but fine!”
“You asked me for the first time.”
I swept my gaze across Argos’s eyes. The hundred that truly belonged to him tracked Hera with agonized stares. Only the single black eye hidden at his nape fixed on me with relentless intensity—more precisely, on my lips. Someone was reading my words through that eye.
I lifted a bloodied corner of my mouth.
“Found you.”
Hera stepped to my side.
“Found what?”
I stared straight into the black eye at the nape.
“Argos does not have a hundred eyes.”
The black pupil trembled.
“He has a hundred and one.”
The eye at the nape split open grotesquely. Inside it, a faint human silhouette appeared.
“What you stole was not only Hera’s seal.”
The black eye twisted. In that instant the black threads binding Argos’s body plunged toward his heart.
“Aaaaargh!”
His enormous frame convulsed. Black blood poured from all one hundred eyes at once. Hera flung golden threads in desperation.
“Argos!”
I caught her and yanked her back.
“Don’t touch him!”
The black threads were woven so that the moment anyone tried to lift the curse, they would tear Argos’s heart apart as well. Burn the curse and he dies. Pluck out the eyes and he dies. Even bound, he would not last long.
Then the pipe fell silent. Hermes, shedding his shepherd’s guise, landed beside us. A golden sickle gleamed in his hand.
“Your Majesty.”
Hermes leveled the blade at Argos’s throat.
“If you wish to save him, you must sever his head this instant.”