The Gorgon's Daughter

Listening carefully as I kept my eyes on the ground, I drew closer to the ancient, stone altar. I heard nothing but the sounds of the forest. It was said that the beast never came to collect her tribute until the villager who had brought it had long-since gone, but I would take no chances.

With the altar at the periphery of my vision, my heart jumped when I realized that the statue to my right was no ordinary statue! Resisting the compelling urge to pause and inspect the Gorgon’s victim, I kept moving uphill, towards the site of offering.

I was flooded with an excited fear as I saw the feet of further stone casualties of the beast. Who knew how many there really were? Once I was properly hidden, I would count them in the reflection of my shield!

At last, my head still down, I reached the dais. I set my bag on the ground, and pulled out this week’s leavings, slowly transferring them onto the stone slab. Four loaves of bread, a leg of mutton, and fresh apples.

Glad to be free of such weight, I picked up the empty bag and headed off to my right, somewhat blindly. I was admittedly terrified as I passed a slew of the false sculptures before reaching a small ledge aside the road.

I crawled upwards, staying low to the humus of the forest, my shield strapped to my back. This was the first of two vulnerable moments: entering my hiding spot, and later, leaving it. If I were espied, I could be done for.

However, fortune, it seemed, was with me. I easily found a stout tree and settled behind it, keeping my back against its trunk. Giddy with excitement, I propped my polished shield on my thighs, at an angle, and took a look at the site behind me.

What I saw made my hands tremble! There were far more statues than I ever would have guessed, they were everywhere! Tilting my shield as I tried to assess their number, I lost count after some five dozen!

For the first time, I realized that my attempts at adventure could be foolhardy. As greatly as I wanted to know as much as possible, experience all the world had to offer, I wanted even more for my death not to come so early and without cause.

Still, if I was anything, I was stubborn. And I had bragged, like an imbecile, that I intended to see the Gorgon, that I would return with stories to tell. My pride kept me rooted, inwardly cursing myself for my arrogance.

Time passed, from morning until afternoon, gauging by the fashion in which the sun filtered through the trees. I dared look at nothing that was not reflected in my shield.

I began to reason to myself that I certainly couldn’t be blamed, if I had waited steadfastly, and yet the Gorgon had not come. Perhaps she had died? Or traveled elsewhere? If I left then, there would be no shame in it, would there?

Just as I had resolved to depart, I caught movement on the edge of my shield. I froze, terrified, as a form approached the altar.

Notes