2.1 In Achaea

An invitation to a wedding.

When the messenger arrived, Atropos was holding a thread, already measured, in her hand. Her other hand was poised, holding the shears ready, so the curly-headed boy bowed and stood waiting for her attention.

When she had finished he laid his delivery on a convenient bench, smiling prettily. It was a bundle wrapped in white linen, which they looked at, perplexed, while the youth recited his message. He winked at them, bowed again, and left with a neat flourish of wings at his ankles.

‘Do you know Thetis?’ Atropos asked, bewildered.

Lakhesis thought for a while.

‘Yes!’ she said, looking pleased. ‘I met her when she was a girl. She was always in and out of the water. She fended Zeus off very tactfully, I remember.’

Atropos smiled. She handed the shears to her attending Ker. She unrolled the white linen wrapping, and a tumble of colours and soft folds cascaded down at her feet.

‘Oh, how lovely! Look at this beautiful embroidery. I wonder; do you think Thetis asked the sea-nymphs to sew these?’

The long scarves were as broad as the length of her arm, made from a silk as light as sea foam, sewn in swirling patterns like fronds of seaweed and jewelled with grains of sand, flowing and glittering in the air.

Klotho held out a hand for Atropos to pass her a scarf, and asked calmly, ‘Why is she marrying this king? The message said nothing about that. You’re right, Atropos: this is exquisite work.’

‘It is odd, I agree,’ Lakhesis said, ‘I’ve noticed that humans insist on marriage now. I think it’s just a fashion. She will outlive Peleus anyway.’

Atropos cast a glance at her. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Not at all. I merely predict it, given that she is a sea goddess and Peleus is only a human. I remember now how Thetis got rid of Zeus’s attentions: she told him that her son would be greater than his father.’