Chapter Text
Ikaros hung low in the sky, tilting his wings into the breeze and riding the thermals heavy over the blue waters of the strait. He gave a happy cry to the cloudless sky stretching out overhead, swooping lower and skimming Kassandra’s head with his wing. She shooed him away with a laugh, said fondly, “Daft bird,” As she made her way to Barnabas, because Ikaros was a daft old thing; pouncing on anything silvery in the water hoping it was a fish, catching true fish from the sea and only forgotten pennies from the fountains.
He screeched affront at her, bat her head again with his wing, and retreated to the sky where she couldn’t swat him so easily, watching Sparta’s ships in their patrols and ignoring her whistles imitating an eagle's laugh.
Barnabas was leaned against the railings near the prow, so Kassandra joined him, looking out across the water and the island green as emeralds swarming with sea birds. “Feeling better, Barnabas?” She asked, watching him rub his temple with a wince. “That lotus wine did quite the number on you, according to Herodotus.”
“Ha!” He shouted, grinning. “I’ve had worse. I once drank so much wine I woke up in a goat shed with no sandals on, wearing a straw hat and a woman’s dress!” Barnabas turned back to the water soon enough, rubbing away the smile on his mouth as he nodded thoughtfully to himself. “It was the strangest thing, though,” He murmured. “I had a vision, of my dear wife Leda.”
“You have a wife?”
Barnabas smiled, small and soft. “Oh yes,” He said. “And what a woman she was! Beautiful, you know - dark, hair, dark skin, and her eyes; oh, her eyes could outshine even Venus' gentle gaze! My daughter,” He said, hugging her close and gesturing to the trees on the island swaying gently in the breeze. “Not even the green of those leaves could compare to the emeralds of my dear Leda! And she could charm the underthings from a celibate priest! Oh, you would just love each other,” He added, the wonder of it bright as the warm sun overhead in his face. "A fighter, she was - vicious as a wildcat; like you!"
Ikaros, finally realising that Kassandra had stopped paying attention to him ignoring her, swooped down to perch on her arm, tugging on her sleeve and looking away when she glanced at him. Kassandra stroked his back to keep him quiet while he murmured food food food under his breath.
“She loved weapons; swords, spears, axes, daggers - give her a blade and she could tell you its history, right down to the smith that made it sometimes! And gods help you if she gets a few drinks in her; she’d fight Ares himself if I let her!” Barnabas laughed at the memory, startling Ikaros into a reflexive little hop and his wings snapping open, ready to flee. Primly, Ikaros preened himself; squawked when Kassandra poked him and fluffed up Indignant when he saw her laughing smile at him. “Oh my dearest Kassandra, as soon as she knows you like to fight you’ll never be rid of her - you’d be her daughter, like the one we always wanted!”
“She sounds wonderful,” Said Kassandra. “What happened to her?”
The sea birds overhead called to each other loudly, stupid and demanding and hungry for whatever scraps of food was thrown overboard, stale bread floating pale in the sea and fish guts drawing small sharks, but Kassandra didn’t mind those small sharks so much. They ate the squalling gulls floating on the water gulping down whatever was in reach. Barnabas sighed, smile gone, and touched his dead-white eye and the pale scar cut jagged down it.
“A storm took my dear Leda,” He said quietly, watching a shark snap up one of the birds. “The one that cost me my eye. We were sailing along quite happily then WHOOSH!” Barnabas swept his arms out, “Poseidon was angry with us, out of nowhere! The ship was dashed against some rocks and my Leda was gone, just like that.” Barnabas deflated slowly, sighed sadly to himself; put his hand over Kassandra’s when she rest it on his wrist. He nodded to himself. “I thought she was gone forever. But I saw her, in my vision - she must be alive! The gods wouldn’t lie about that!”
“Of course not,” Kassandra agreed, though she didn't much think the gods quite so courteous. “Tell me about the visions, and I’ll see if I can’t find her for-”
Ikaros screeched in alarm as Barnabas swept her up in a hug, squeezing tight and trying to lift her up, though she was a bit big and Barnabas a bit small for that. “My dear Kassandra you are the best daughter a man could ask for!” He said, stepped back and cupped her face, fondness and happiness and love bright in his beaming face. “Oh, Leda will love you! She really will! A daughter of our own,” He breathed, stroking Kassandra’s cheeks. “Our daughter. The most wonderful child of Leda and me and Herodotus and Nikolaos.”
Kassandra gently squeezed his wrists to tell him to let her go. “The vision, Barnabas,” She reminded him. “I might be your most wonderful child but I’m no miracle worker. What did the gods show you? In your vision?”
“First,” Said Barnabas, “She fed a Cyclops in a dark cavern. Then I saw her drinking wine with a witch! And after that it was sirens - they were singing with Leda. Not half so beautifully, though,” He added proudly. “Leda had a voice that could make any man drop his trousers for her - it was how I came to love her.” Kassandra wrinkled her nose because ew, she didn’t want to know about that, but he didn’t seem to notice. Barnabas paced excitedly, back and forth back and forth in a tight little circle, sharp and quick. “Leda,” He murmured, “My dear wife Leda. You will find her, won’t you?”
“If she’s alive, Barnabas,” Said Kassandra with a smile, clapping his arm and giving a squeeze as she moved to to set sail, “Then I’ll find her.”