Atalanta

by Jennifer Saint

Iasus was staring at me expectantly. Whatever he’d said, I hadn’t heard it over my racing thoughts. ‘What?’ I asked. There were hands on my shoulders, a cool weight placed on my collarbones. I looked down to see a string of polished stones that someone was fastening around my neck. ‘The marriage will take place at once,’ Iasus was saying. Hippomenes was shaking his head. ‘But, the rituals – nothing has been observed, there hasn’t been any preparation, any sacrifice. How can a marriage take place like this – a royal marriage, at that? Surely we should wait, make proper arrangements.’ He was babbling desperately. Trying to save me again. I put my hand on his arm. ‘What preparations do we need?’ I said, and his mouth dropped open, his bewilderment almost comical. A laugh rose up in my chest, a sudden swoop of merriment. I turned to the king. ‘Nothing about this situation is usual. I made a bargain with you, and I’ll honour it. We’ll get married here.’ I took a long breath. The air was quiet and still. No divine wrath, no signs of Artemis’ fury descended in the wake of my revelation. I cleared my throat. ‘Now.’