4.3 In Achaea

In which Zeus is importunate

Lakhesis ran her hands nervously over the scars on her arms as she began.

‘We walked for I don’t know how long, away from Olympus. Then we found this valley, and built our homes. We worked indoors and out at tasks that we learned from humans, or learned ourselves. We worked in stone and wood and metal. We made useful things from wool and thread. I caught wild sheep and goats, and bred flocks for their wool and skins. More humans began to settle near us, and offered help at harvest and milking. We learned to eat human food. It’s good, isn’t it?’

Atropos grinned. The honey bowl was empty.

‘We learned to rest, and now and again I found that I had slept. Sleep is strange. It’s so good but looks too much like death. And we always wake.’

Klotho stirred, heavily. She looked comfortable in her carved wooden chair, leaning against a great cushion embroidered with wool.

‘We learned to make wine. Our lives ran in new courses, and we were content. But then he came to see Klotho.’

Klotho was now facing the early afternoon sun, and her face, Atropos saw with a shock, was lined.

‘I worked in a grove on the hilltop. I spun linen under the trees, sitting in dappled sunlight, listening to the birdsong and the creaking of cicadas. It was so lovely, up there.’ As she spoke Klotho was gazing up to the hill behind the house.

‘She became a good mistress,’ Lakhesis remarked, taking the last olive from a green glazed bowl painted with trees. ‘She stays calm when the humans are stupid. She is friendly to all but does not suffer fools.’

‘No change, then,’ thought Atropos.