Page 28 of Crown of Serpents

“That moron,” Perseus chuckled, shaking his head. “So how did they get to arm-wrestling after that?”

A dreamy smile spread across the sailor’s face, brushing a chestnut curl from his eyes, “Well, the other dimwit over there, Meliton, was convinced that he could do better, and now … well … we ran out of apples, so they started arm-wrestling to continue their dick-measuring contest.”

The sailor’s amber eyes sparkled as he studied the man losing against Kleos in arm wrestling once more. Then he asked, “Will you join us, Perseus?”

“Sure, I could use some mindless drunkenness.”

Maybe that would keep his mind from circling back to Medusa.

“My name is Elias.” The sailor extended his arm.

Perseus shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Elias.”

The hours passed in a blur as Perseus talked and listened to the sailors, putting names to the faces that had cautiously observed him during the past weeks. As the sun dipped lower, another barrel of wine was breached. Perseus was not much of a drinker, disliking how it dulled his senses. However, he did enjoy the stories that grew more preposterous as the booze flowed freely. He now understood Kleos’s fondness for Orestes, the veteran farmer and captivating storyteller.

Just then, he told a particularly amusing tale about a wild bull that had tried to impale a thief who wanted to steal his grain. “That beast was absolutely useless for ploughing. He would always buck and try to chase the cart behind him. But give him a moving target … and well … he chased that poor lad all over the field until he drove him up a tree.Hades, it almost impaled mewhen I found the thief sitting there the next morning. Still, I can’t wait to see that stupid beast again when we finally return home!”

The group erupted in laughter, and Orestes’s wrinkled face split wide in a crooked grin.

“I hear that,” Atticus, the grim-looking first mate, added, “I can’t wait to see my beast of a wife again — even though she regularly tries to poison me.”

Kleos spat out his drink. “She what?”

“Oh yeah, she likes to put funny mushrooms in my stew. It’s nothing too serious, though … the worst thing that happened to me was me shitting myself.”

“But why?” Somebody asked, and Perseus leaned in. He wanted to know the same thing.

Atticus’s hawkish face grew serious. “I deserve it, honestly. I cheated on her when I was young and stupid. My wife broke my nose when she found out and hasn’t forgiven me since.”

“Why were you unfaithful?” Perseus asked with genuine curiosity.

Before Atticus could answer, Linus, who had just plopped down in the circle, interjected, “Because he’s a man, Perseus! How can we not have a taste of all the beautiful women that cross our path?”

The group cheered, and Linus poured himself a drink while sneering at him. Next to Perseus, Elias muttered beneath his breath, his eyes lingering on Meliton, “Not all men are like that.”

Atticus raised his voice again, his face still contorted in shame, “I cheated on my wife because I was greedy and lacked self-control … it was the biggest mistake I ever made, and I’ll spend the rest of my miserable life begging Aneka for forgiveness. I can’t wait to return home to her and her poisoned stew.”

The crew fell silent, exchanging a few rueful glances. To Perseus’s surprise, it was Mikis who broke the silence, “I can’t wait to see my baby nephew again. My sister had him a year ago, so I’m sure he’ll be walking when I return.”

Soon, they each shared what they missed most about Seriphos and what they would do once they returned to the island.

Finally, Elias asked, turning to Perseus with a wink, “Whatabout you, Perseus? Surely someone is waiting at home for a lad as handsome as you.”

Perseus felt the weight of everyone's eyes upon him, their faces etched with curiosity — all except for Meliton, who shot him a direct glare. Kleos wiggled his eyebrows tauntingly.

Perseus sighed, “The only ones waiting for me are my mother and the old fisherman who found us when we were stranded on Seriphos’s shore many years ago.”

“Such a momma’s boy,” Kleos teased.

Perseus shot him a glare, but there was no use denying it. He was closer to Danae than most men were to their mothers. He shrugged, “I guess.”

“Damn, Perseus, you’re not even going to deny it?” Kleos pressed on, clearly not done with embarrassing him in front of the crew.

“What’s the point? Danae is why I went on this journey in the first place, after all.”

Orestes’s head snapped to him. “What do you mean?”

“I made a bargain with Polydectes to protect her. We could not pay the tithe in full this year, and our king demanded my mother become his mistress in compensation. He had pursued her for a while, so I offered to slay the gorgon … well … so she would be free.”

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