The lion came, oh, the lion came,
Lover of maidens no mortal can tame,
The lion came, oh, the lion came,
All praise to Zeus, the lion came!”
The Argonauts erupted with cheers. Orpheus stood and, lyre at his side, bowed to the crew.
“Now, that’s more like it!” shouted Ancaeus as he pounded his bench.
Danae looked back to Heracles sitting on the stern deck, a lone silhouette against the dusky sky. She picked up a skin of wine and climbed across the benches.
“Thought you might need another.”
He turned, his eyes lingering on her face before accepting the drink. He took a swig, then handed it back to her. She drank too. She realized it was the first time she’d ever been alone with him. Well, as alone as it was possible to be on a twenty-crew ship. The thought sent a little flutter through her chest.
“Not a fan of your songs?”
The hero reached for the wine again. “I’ve heard them all before.” He shot her a wry smile. “And however tuneful, they’re not always entirely accurate.”
She wanted to ask which part wasn’t accurate but felt heat rising in her cheeks at the thought, so instead said, “Why didn’t you fight the pirates?”
For a moment he looked taken aback. “I would have thought that obvious.”
Danae refused to let him make her feel foolish. “If you’d put on your lion hide and made it known the mighty Heracles was aboard, they’d never have fought us. You could have saved a lot of bloodshed.”
“Is that always the best outcome?”
“Yes.”
Heracles did not contradict her, but his expression made it clear he didn’t agree. She took another drink.
“Educate me.”
His smile gleamed in the moonlight. “The fight is what bonds soldiers. The Argonauts are not just warriors by trade, it’s in their bones. Victory sustains them as much as food and water. After Lemnos they needed a win. A win that was theirs, earned by their blades, not delivered to them on a platter by a demigod.” He took back the wine. “And I need a day off every now and then.”
“How do you live with it...all the death? How do you stop each kill reminding you of those you love who’ve...” She did not trust herself to continue.
His gaze softened and for a moment, she thought he would reach for her, but instead he said quietly, “Time and familiarity. Death has become a companion I walk beside each day. But there are some deaths that weigh more heavily than others.” A shadow passed over his face. “All we can do is make sure we’re strong enough to carry them.”
There was pain there, beneath his chiseled exterior that looked so like one of his father’s statues.
“I never thanked you. For what you did in the cave.”
“It was nothing.”
“You saved my life.”
A bout of raucous laughter bubbled from the mid-deck. They both glanced back to see Hylas cajoling Atalanta into dancing with him. The pair made Danae think of a mountain goat attempting a jig with a bear.
Heracles laughed. “He’s a good lad, Hylas.”
“Yes, he is.”
“I’ve grown very fond of him.”
She could tell he meant it.
