Nobody's Prize by Esther Friesner Page A

Milo.” Even if Hylas was correct about my friend’s bad disposition, I felt he didn’t have the right to criticize him.
    “From the way he looks at me, you’d think my name was Worm. Did I do something to offend him?”
    “It’s only a mood,” I said. “He’ll come around.”
    “He’d better,” Hylas said. “It’s going to be a long voyage.”

          4          
    BIRDS WITH THE FACES OF WOMEN
    Eunike as the Pythia had the gift of prophecy and I suspected that Orpheus did as well, but Herakles too turned out to be an oracle, in his own way. My life aboard the
Argo
worked out just as he’d predicted. Prince Jason’s ship was indeed large enough to hold my secret safe. When I emerged from my hiding place the next morning, word of my supposed quarrel with Castor and Polydeuces had spread through the rest of the crew. Herakles made his wishes in the matter clear to everyone. You didn’t need the Pythia to predict your future if you crossed him.
    From then on, I knew my brothers wouldn’t see me unless I allowed it. It was easy enough to avoid them. Each crewman sat on his own sea chest to row. The sole exception was the white-haired man who’d slept on board that first night. He seemed to jump from spot to spot on the ship like a flea. My brothers had the two right-hand places closest to the ship’s prow, so I haunted the
Argo
’s stern and never went farther forward than the mast amidships if I could help it.
    Of course, the men didn’t row all day long. When the winds favored us, my brothers and the rest shipped their oars and gave thanks to the gods, leaving the
Argo
’s fate to Tiphys, who handled the steering oar, and the men who governed the great sail. Even when the winds failed and the crew bent their backs at the oars, there would be times called for them to rest, drink, and wipe the sweat away. I learned to stay alert for those moments. Just because my brothers didn’t wander far from their chosen bench didn’t mean it would
never
happen.
    Keeping an eye on my brothers was a very small part of my days aboard the
Argo.
As far as everyone except Milo and Iolaus knew, I was a weapons bearer and had work to do. Most of it was fetch-and-carry, bringing the rowers watered wine to drink, or a mouthful of bread, dried figs, or wizened olives to silence their stomachs until we beached for the night and ate a real meal. Milo served the men who labored fore of the mast; I worked aft, to keep away from my brothers.
    Sometimes we were given a pile of weapons and told to clean and sharpen them, because even when such things were stowed inside the chests the men used for rowing benches, the sea spray would manage to seep in to damage good bronze subtly but surely. Though Hylas only had Herakles’ gear to tend, he always pitched in to help us. After many days of this, Milo began to speak a few words to him. Soon they were trading jokes. I was glad, though I will admit I felt a little jealous. Time Hylas spent talking to Milo was time Hylas didn’t spend talking to
me.
    When the sun slid low in the west each day, Tiphys would steer the ship into the most favorable haven he could find. While the crew lowered the mast and jumped overboard to beach the
Argo,
I’d make sure to leap ashore on the opposite side from my brothers. In the nightly commotion of making camp, I gathered firewood and kept my distance from Castor and Polydeuces. At first we were always the same group of eight around our campfire, but after several days we were joined by Prince Jason’s cousin, Acastus. He rowed beside Iolaus, who had taken a liking to him.
    Herakles teased him about it when Acastus was out of earshot. “Aiming your heart high, nephew, or are you just trying to win that bet of mine? Good luck with that! If Jason’s got his mind set on securing his claim to the throne of Iolkos, he’ll find a way to get rid of Acastus even if you stick to him like a second skin.”
    “Acastus and I