Quoted By:
Having enjoyed each other’s company over several hours, you find your head clearer. Lounging on silk cushions, still within the temple of Dionysus, you make your demand of Euanippe – that she will not be traveling alone on horseback through the Argolid. Euanippe interjects as you make this point:
“In Thessaly, this was my common practice, and the lands of Argos are relatively safe–“ she begins, but you cut her off with a gentle hand.
“In Thessaly, you were a minor noblewoman in the half-civilized hills. Here, in civilized Argos, you must pay attention to the practices of your peers. I thought we had done aside with these ridiculous habits years ago! Not to mention - the lands of Argos are “relatively safe” – but the Peloponnese is still full to the brim with kidnapping madmen and half-wits, Euanippe. You are the wife of Hippomedon, Captain of Argos and nephew to King Adrastus – you are a target!” Euanippe, knowing that she has no chance of averting this lecture, calmly listens as you speak. You go on to explain what you have deduced – that Argos and Thebes will war. The kidnap and murder of the family of an enemy captain is not out of the question – it’s something you might do, if you thought it would give you an edge. She surprises you with a simple response –
“You are right, husband. I apologize sincerely,” she states. “But you must know that this was not folly – I was visited in a dream three nights ago, and clear as we speak now, I was instructed to come to this temple with all speed, and conduct a ritual of specific nature…” she explains.
“But who delivered the message? A god in disguise, a nymph?”
“It was you, husband!” Euanippe giggles. “And I always follow my husband’s counsel…”
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You re-enter the Royal Palace late – your uncle’s feast has already begun. After this past afternoon’s activities, you and Euanippe had taken the trouble to bathe, dress in fine robes, and prepare for the evening properly. The feast courtyard has been transformed – sweet-smelling braziers illuminate the long tables and benches – enough seating for the several hundred Argive nobility present. An army of waiflike attendants, chosen for their beauty, deliver well-mixed wine to the seated guests in goblets of silver and gold, and burly kitchen-men keep a constant flow of roasted beef, goat, vegetables and other delights to the guests.
Your late entry is noted by all – prompting whispered gossip, good-natured shouting from some cousins (considered boorish before the eating has finished), and quite a few looks of vile envy directed at Euanippe. Some women have never forgiven your Thessalian bride for stealing you away – not that your wishes ever figured in such ambitious dreams. These petty slights are meaningless, of course. You guide Euanippe to her seating amongst the noblewomen, and project a fierce look of warning as you do so - <span class="mu-i">treat her well, or else</span>.
>cont
