such tricks a thousand times. My father always fell for them. He believed
the world’s natural order was to please him.
“Who is that?” my father said to Oceanos.
Oceanos had many golden-eyed grandchildren from my father
already, and was glad to think of more. “My daughterPerse. She is yours if
you want her.”
The next day, my father found her by her fountain-pool in the upper
world. It was a beautiful place, crowded with fat-headed narcissus, woven
over with oak branches. There was no muck, no slimy frogs, only clean,
round stones giving way to grass. Even my father, who cared nothing for
the subtleties of nymph arts, admired it.
My mother knew he was coming. Frail she was, but crafty, with a
mind like a spike-toothed eel. She saw where the path to power lay for such
as her, and it was not in bastards and riverbank tumbles. When he stood
before her, arrayed in his glory, she laughed at him. Lie with you? Why
should I?
My father, of course, might have taken what he wanted. But Helios
flattered himself that all women went eager to his bed, slave girls and
divinities alike. His altars smoked with the proof, offerings from big-bellied
mothers and happy by-blows.
“It is marriage,” she said to him, “or nothing. And if it is marriage, be
sure: you may have what girls you like in the field, but you will bring none
home, for only I will hold sway in your halls.”
Conditions, constrainment. These were novelties to my father, and
gods love nothing more than novelty. “A bargain,” he said, and gave her a
necklace to seal it, one of his own making, strung with beads of rarest
amber. Later, when I was born, he gave her a second strand, and another for
each of my three siblings. I do not know which she treasured more: the
luminous beads themselves or the envy of her sisters when she wore them. I
think she would have gone right on collecting them into eternity until they
hung from her neck like a yoke on an ox if the high gods had not stopped
her. By then they had learned what the four of us were. You may have other
children, they told her, only not with him. But other husbands did not give
amber beads. It was the only time I ever saw her weep.