Chapter 3

"I don't know where you can put so much food. Poor woman who catches you. She'll spend all her time in the kitchen. Well, if she looks like Theresa, she may spend some time in the bedroom."

Theresa blushed, glanced under lowered eyes at Demo.

"Demo, walk her home, will you. The moon is bright tonight, but I've heard there are brigands about. Besides, I'm sure you could find no lovelier company."

They walked slowly beneath the moonlight. Theresa stumbled and he caught her arm. She leaned close against him, took his hand. "Thank you. I might have fallen."

"It's all right," he responded gruffly, moving away. Nevertheless, he left his hand in hers.

"Demo, the moon is so beautiful tonight. Almost bright as day. I love the moonlight. My, you are so tall. And such strong arms!" she placed her hand around his upper arm, squeezed.

"It's a good moon for hunting. Fortunately, our larder is full, at least for now."

"Then you should have more free time. Will you come and see me. At times it is lonely. I need a true friend, one I can turn to in time of trouble. A friend like you."

For a moment Demo was silent. He wanted to put his arm around her, hold her close, and tell her that she had a friend. He didn't understand his feelings. He felt the need to hold her in his arms. She seemed so fragile, so small and weak and helpless. He thought of a young doe, first learning to stand. He was confused. His thoughts wandered, today's events were on his mind, and he hesitated.

"Theresa, we have always been friends since we were small. When you needed help, I have been there. It will always be so. I guess I have always cared for you, little sister."

They reached the door of her home, and her father stood outside watching their approach. "Good evening, Demo. I see you have brought her home. The pathways are safe tonight, it seems. Girl, you mother would like to talk to you."

"Goodnight, Demo. Please come tomorrow night."

As she went inside Demo heard her mother's voice. "Girl, you are out very late. My, your face is so bright and radiant. You don't have a fever I hope. Oh, my, what have you done to your dress. Turn around here. Well, you really shouldn't. Well, I guess I did the same when I was your age. You grow up so fast, so fast!"

"Demo, how goes the hunting?"

"Hunting has gone well. Our larder is full. Now I must prepare the house for the winter season. The winds are picking up, and we'll be getting more rain shortly. Our roof needs some repair."

"Well, I still need more meat, but there is time enough. Walk with me a moment, boy."

"You and Theresa have known each other a long time. I've watched you grow from childhood to manhood. And she'll be taking a husband before many more seasons pass. What of you, boy? Have you plans to marry?"

"Sir, my plans now are mostly to care for my Mother. I . . . , well, I suppose I shall marry in time."

"The flowers bloom, and then they fade. Don't delay too long in living your own life. I believe you mother would be pleased to see you wed. Like Theresa said, why don't you stop by the house tomorrow night. The wife is an excellent cook, and you look like you could use a pound or two. I have some wine we shall enjoy together. I'd like your opinion of it."

On the way home Demo thought of the day's events. Somehow, he thought, I have this strange feeling. As though the beaters were driving me into a trap.

"Strange. Yesterday I was child, without concerns." He spoke aloud, thoughtfully, to himself. "Today I feel so very different. I have seen death. I have seen Athena. And even Zeus has revealed himself to me. It is as though, overnight, I have grown up."

And yet he felt too much the child. Everything was happening too quickly.

"I need time, I need a lot of time."

Demo shook his head. Rough came running toward him, and he laughed, skipped along the path, then ran home with the dog barking, chasing excitedly at his heels.

The rumble of wheels, the pounding of hoofs, filled the night air. Through the darkness dashed without concern four great stallions, pulling the dark chariot.

At the reins was Pluto!

Thunder rumbled through the sky, blended with the thunder of chariot and team. The only light was that from occasional lightning. It revealed the grim visage of the driver.

On whatever mission Pluto rode this night, plainly it bore heavy on his mind.

Persephone sat in the garden swing, watched the night sky, the gentle stars. A storm brewed, but like all storms, skirted her garden. In the distance she saw the dark clouds, illumined by the lightning's flash.

And on the far mountain road, momentarily revealed by that lightning flash, a chariot pulled with madcap speed by four huge stallions.

She frowned, then laughed away her concern. A nighthawk flew by, identified by its nasal peent. A soft warm breeze rustled the leaves of the lilac bush. The sweet fragrance of the lilacs filled the air.

Persephone swung gently, hummed quietly to herself. Looking up she saw a shooting star, a brilliant traveler among the stars, quickly fading.

She laughed happily at its beauty. Then thought more somberly of what it might portend.

3. Waiting

He waited impatiently. The days were growing shorter, the rains were more prevalent. Even now, outside the hut, he heard the drops beating with ever increasing fury. The pelting on the roof, the whistling of the wind, and the increasing cold all presaged an early and severe winter.

His mother was preparing the evening meal. Luckily, on his way home he had chanced on two bucks, and the first fell to his ready arrow. And that two weeks afore!

The aroma of the roasting venison permeated the little hut. His mother hummed quietly to herself as she stirred vegetables, skillfully added the exact measure of spices, sprinkled on tangy herbs. Yet his thoughts wandered. Dwelling on recent activities, his thoughts were not on food.

Had Zeus forgotten?

He gazed into the burning logs, listened to the crackling as he stirred the ashes. The brilliant sparks rose and disappeared.

Demo strode from the fire to the doorway, stared at the mist and rain. The weather kept him from the hunt. The encounter with the Goddess Athena occupied his mind. He had confused and uncertain thoughts over all that had happened. Was it but a dream?

Now the winds began to moan through the trees. Autumn has already touched the high mountains. He glanced out at the moist leaves, all bright in gold and crimson hues, soon to darken. Then they will fall. The mountains shall be barren.

He examined the pack his mother had prepared. It contained several days' food, for he had no idea how long he would be on his quest. He picked up his pouch, examined each arrow in turn. Sharpened and re-sharpened! They wait to fly straight and true to his prey. The smell of the cooking venison again caught his attention.

"Eat well, my son. When you are called you will have little time for food." His mother smiled. Yet her smile is a little wan, for she fears for his welfare.

"You know, Theresa is a lovely girl. She was by when you were on your last hunt. I think she likes you."

He ignored her comments. He has no thought for Theresa.

"She's a very pretty girl. A little younger than you, but not so much. Her parents look with favor on you, too."

She glanced at him, judging the impact of her words. Disappointed, she returned to preparing the meal.

After eating he tested the strength of his great bow. Made of the finest wood, it drove arrow after arrow deep into the oak at the edge of the forest.

Braving the rain he went to the tree to regain his arrows. All but one were retrieved. Demo frowned, for the tree gripped the last arrow stubbornly.

Rough sat on his haunches, a quizzical look on his face as he watched his master tugging at the arrow. Suddenly Rough growled. He rushed toward the tree, barking.

Demo pulled even harder, glancing up into the tree as he did so. There, seated on the lowest limb, sneered the fox-imp. It smiled in delight at his efforts to free the arrow.

"Listen, mortal. My master Pluto sends you greetings. You are a great hunter." The imp stopped with a frown.

"I show the proof of it on my hide," he grumbled morosely.

"Never mind. My master says you shall also be a rich hunter. Give up your thoughts of the Goddess Athena. You shall have riches beyond measure."

The arrow suddenly came free in Demo's hands, and he tumbled backwards, rolled over and over on the muddy ground.

Rough quickly bounded to his side, whining. When his master rose the whine changed to a contented growl, and he turned once more to contemplating the creature in the tree. Plainly it looked more appetizing than a chicken.

The fox-imp's smile now changed to derisive guffaws. "And you would perform the twelve tasks of Zeus! If you but attempt to begin that sojourn I shall be with you. I, and my companions, shall haunt your trail until you fall in misery and failure." The voice is angry and threatening.

"But," and now his voice is affable, "if you accept the offer of Pluto - if you renounce this vain adventure - you shall receive all the pleasures of this earth. Gold and jewels will be yours. Wine of the finest vintage! Women of the most delicate and beautiful nature! All you desire - and an eternity in which to enjoy it. That my master offers you. As a token that you accept, only break the arrow in your hand."

He shook his head. Should he break the arrow. All the riches of the world! Slowly he grasped the arrows shaft, bent it in his strong grasp.

And if he follows the path laid out by Zeus? By the tricky and devious Zeus! Zeus who has never made easy the lot of the adventurer!

And Athena. He recalls her beauty, the sweetness of her voice. She wanted him as her husband - and as her protector!

Suddenly Demo drew back his arm, threw the arrow at the fox-imp.

The latter dodged quickly in surprise, and the arrow barely scratched his skin.

"Oh, you are a beauty, you are. Ah, how that stings. Master Pluto has great things in store for you, young hunter. Great things! And how I shall enjoy serving them to you!"

He leaped from the tree, turning to his fox form before touching the ground. For a moment he sat, scratching at the wound with his hind leg. Rough rushed forward, growling, teeth bared. The fox imp glanced quickly over his shoulder at the dog, then dashed into the forest.

Demo stood silently in the mist and rain.

Can this really be happening? I have heard of such things, but only in stories. I was sure they were only to frighten children. And yet . . . and yet it is happening to me. Why to me? I don't understand. I wish . . . .

"Demo, my goodness! You'll catch a terrible cold. Come inside. Oh, you look so pale. Here, dry your head. And wrap up warm." She hugged him to her, tousled his hair. "My, children never grow up. Quick now."

Zeus was slowly entering comments in his diary, muttering under his breath.

"The thoughts he had in his mind when he beheld the Goddess! Dear, dear - unconscionable!" He stopped, noting Hera standing by his side.

"Yes, Dear Husband. I'm sure you would not countenance any unchaste thoughts on the part of this bumpkin."

He ignored the sarcasm in her voice.

"And was he, this youth, perchance handsome?"

"Handsome," he growled. "No, no! You would find him singularly unattractive, I assure you."

'Ummm! Singularly unattractive. Well!"

"Now, be about your business. I must call Athena, the Goddess of memory. I vaguely recall some chores of historical note. Some very interesting little minor chores. Oh, yes!"

For a moment Hera stood still, frowned. Fortunately for Zeus she was quickly distracted by her maids, who gathered around to whisper of the exciting events of the day. They left the room, chattering and laughing.

Zeus smiled as he contemplated those interesting little minor chores. "Athena, in spite of her foolish infatuation, will provide me with the information I need. Eh, reluctantly, I suppose. My, the difficulties one meets in governing the universe!"

He hummed softly. "What is that called! Catchy little tune. Hera, dear, I'm hungry. My ambrosia, please."

Hera, at the door, glanced backed at him in surprise. "Ambrosia, please? Did I hear 'please'?" She walked across the room to his side, placed her palm on his forehead, shaking her head as she did so. "Strange, no fever. Please? My, how un-Zeus-like!"

In happier times did Persephone with the water nymphs play. By the seashore they gathered. They brought from the ocean's depth strange flowers, colorful stones, and jewels seized from sailing ships by angry sea.

Persephone carried with her flowers from her garden, a garland on her head. With her she brought fruits, and all manner of good and beautiful plants that grew within the garden.

In their play they fashioned garlands, gave them beauty by wearing them. The dolphins swam near and laughed and sported to see the beauty of land and sea at play.

One other watched them too. From a distance and with brooding eyes. Often, as they frolicked on that white and sandy shore, he sat in the gloom of the forest in his golden chariot, his four black steeds pawing at the leaf-covered ground.

Their beauty he coveted.

And above all he desired Persephone!

4. The First Quest

He lay in bed, awake. It was morning, but morning dark and gloomy. He could hardly see the doorway. The rain fell steadily, the wind gusting, falling, then gusting once again. The air was damp, cold, and clothes and bedclothes were soaked with moisture from the humidity. He shivered, curled up tightly against the cold.

Still, Rough tugged at the blankets as day broke, eager for his master's company. Reluctantly Demo shooed the dog away, tucked the covers more closely around himself.

"Well, mother, I shall sleep in this morning. Even Zeus is hardly up and about on a day like this."

It was the wrong thing to say.

The rain suddenly increased, the wind grew stronger, and the door flew open. Rough began barking excitedly, moved cautiously toward the open door. As the rain blew in he retreated nearer his master. Demo rose quickly to shut the door, but not before a dark object blew in, fell upon the floor. Quickly Rough seized it between his teeth, shook it from side to side.

"Hey, easy there." Demo approached the dog cautiously. In his mouth Rough held A thin leather sheet. And burned on its surface were some words. Slowly Demo deciphered them.

"The race is to the swift. Sometimes. Be at the Temple of Mars at sundown. The white feather must . . . ."

He could not make out the rest. The heavy rain had soaked the material, and the remaining words were smudged beyond recognition.

Zeus! It could have come from no other!

"Mother, I must go quickly. Why the temple of Mars? There is no way to reach it by sundown. Still, I must try."

She looked at the falling rain, thought to detain him. Finally she sighed, quickly put more and fresher food in his pouch. "Perhaps you should take the white feather. And do be careful. I had a bad dream last night. I shall not repeat to you, but beware of that which you cannot see."

She hugged him.

In spite of the rain he smiled. The first task was begun.

The race is to the swift. Sometimes.

What strange words these.

And to reach the temple of Mars by sundown! Beyond the ability of any mortal.

Still, perhaps, if he could float on the swift waters of the churning river it might be possible. The falling rain had turned the gentle stream into thunderous torrents. And even as he looked a huge tree floated down the stream, twisting and rolling.

There seemed no other option. Quickly he located two fallen logs, pried them slowly to the waters edge. There he knotted vines around them, forming a single platform. Finally, with a deep breath, he forced them off the bank into the stream.

Almost too late he waded out. The cold mud sucked at his feet, the angry water stormed at his thighs. He leaped atop the nearest log, slipped, fell across the logs awkwardly. He was on his way to the temple of Mars!

What chance of success he had was quickly spoiled.

When he clambered onto the raft his pouch had opened. A sudden gust of wind picked up the white feather, wafted it quickly beyond his reach. In seconds it landed on the raging waters, quickly disappeared from sight.

Rough bounded along the shore, barking furiously. He badly wanted to board the raft, yet feared to dare the sullen waters. Finally, as the raft moved to the stream's center the dog stopped, whined, its tail between its legs. The dog shivered as though in fear, then slowly turned to wend its way home.

Demo watched with regret as the Rough quickly disappeared in the midst of the heavy rain shower. "Perhaps I should have taken you with me. No, you must stay home, protect Mother."

Demo smiled. With a sigh he braced himself on the logs as the tumultuous stream tossed the frail craft from side to side. What a wonderful start he was making to perform the required tasks of Zeus!

The white feather, lost to the wind and the rain! And his chances of reaching the temple before nightfall almost non-existent!

The watery trip, miraculously, was almost uneventful. Almost.

As the raft rounded a bend in the river the water narrowed, flowed ever faster. And on the shore, obscured by the driving rain and gathering fog, stood a creature of unearthly mien. It neither moved nor spoke.

Demo had faced the bear that claimed the mountain ridges as their own. The snarling night cats that dominated the forests had stood before him. Of them all, none had aroused in him such fear as now he felt.

For from this creature radiated a menace more fearsome than he had ever known, an overwhelming evil emanation.

Demo gasped, eyes wide. "What is it! What manner of beast are you . . . ?"

Almost immediately the creature disappeared in the swirling mist.

It was gone! Though it disappeared from view he felt a premonition. A premonition that he would see it again. He knew not why, but knew it would be with him. A constant, unseen companion. The chill that enveloped him now was not caused by the cold, soaking rain.

Whether sundown was near, or had long past, he could not tell. The dark, drear day had no sun, only the continuous rain. Finally, there, on the cliff above, stood the temple, barely visible.

He paddled with his hands, attempting to bring his raft to the far shore. The water swirled, waves built up before the wind, and currents formed and disappeared throughout the stream. His paddling was almost to no avail. The makeshift raft swirled, rocked, meandered randomly at the mercy of the river. By the time the craft reached the shore he had drifted well beyond the temple.

Clawing his way up the muddy bank he found a narrow trail and began the climb. His ankle, which he had thought healed, began a slow steady ache. Rock-strewn, and now covered with silt and muck and murky water, the trail formed a slippery maze up the mountainside. Rivulets gouged ever-deepening gullies across the path. At times the entire path was but a stream, with swift water washing away small plants and stones.

Midway in his climb he entered a wide clearing. A doe, in attempting to flee from his approach, had slipped and its leg hung useless as it stood, shivering in fear.

A ray of light appeared briefly from a sun very low on the horizon. Time was running out. With a frown he avoided the doe, continued his climb.

He could not help himself. He looked back, and its brown limpid eyes, full of pain and fear, held him. Finally, with a growl, he returned. He approached the beast carefully. Though it tried to evade him, it was to no avail. Finally it stood motionless, shivering.

"I have no time, little one. I must be quick. This splint will hold, hopefully, until you heal." He bound the doe's leg with wooden splints in place. With a growl he started once more up the mountain. He noticed the doe following behind, timidly maintaining its distance.

"Go away. The sun has certainly set. Ah, if you had only been a full grown buck. My arrow would have quickly found its mark. And I would already be at the temple!"

When he reached the temple it was indeed dark. The building rose massively before him. Built over the years, at times of wood, at times of stone, it had grown from a small shrine to its current size. Cautiously he entered through the huge doorway. The wooden doors were open, as though he were expected. There was no sound. The temple was empty!

Plainly, Zeus had already departed!.

Demo sat down in the middle of the floor, his head bowed. Finally he noted a white feather lying in an open space near the temple's center. He picked it up, stroked it softly with his hand. How like the one lost in the storm!

Dropping it, aloud he whispered, "Good-bye, Athena. It was not to be."

The clatter of hooves on the floor caught his attention. The doe stood by the door, pawing the stones. "Well, you have cost me dearly, little one. Go on your way, there are hunters who would not reject you."

A rumbling voice filled the temple. "The race is to the swift. Sometimes."

The voice emanated from the doe!

Quickly he stood up. Zeus! It must be Zeus!

"Merely a little test, my boy. One must be sensitive to suffering. Your bleeding heart has caused you to fail this simple task, bringing the white feather to the temple. Nevertheless, I'll certainly remember you kindly for the aid you provided me. Well, boy, go on home now. It was nice knowing you."

His head bowed he walked across the temple, passed the doe on his way to the downward path.

"Wait!" The voice was an angry growl. "What is this! How did it get here?"

Zeus stood in the middle of the temple, in his godly form now. In his hand he held the feather Demo had previously taken from the floor, only to toss aside.

"I know not sire. For the feather I carried was stolen away by the wind. This was here when I entered the temple."

"Ah, good, good. Then it couldn't be the feather. Good day, my boy. Give my regards to your mother - and to any other kinfolk you should meet. Lovely day, lovely." Zeus smiled happily as the rain dripped upon him from a rent in the temple roof.

With drooping head Demo once more turned to go. A sudden disturbance caught his attention. Once more he halted.

A beautiful owl floated on wide spread white wings through the temple entrance.

"Zeus, Aeolus carried here the white feather. Even as you required, it was delivered. Nought was said that the boy must himself carry it."

"Athena, you shall have many children." He paused for a moment. "And all of them shall be lawyers," Zeus growled. "Very well, technically the task was done. Come back, my boy. Let us celebrate your success. Here, have a sip of my most valued nectar."

Zeus tipped the flask, burped, wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Here you are. Take a deep draught."

Demo smiled happily, looked at the rosy fluid for a moment, and raising the flask to his lips, closed his eyes.

He drank eagerly. Oddly, the liquid had little taste. Not noticeably different from the taste of water. Almost like rainwater, really.

"Demo, you must fix that leak. The rain is all over your face. How can you lie there!"

He opened his eyes wide. Indeed he was lying on his own bed. And the only nectar was the drops of rain leaking through the roof. With a start he sat up. It was only a dream!

Rough lay at the foot of his bed, eyes closed.

Lying beside the dog, half hidden by his form, something caught Demo's eye. Something familiar!

Two white feathers!

5. The Gorgon's Head

"An object of extreme rarity. Actually, only one exists - all others, destroyed. A shame, really. Could have sent out a few as gifts. Love to give one to my dear brother Pluto. Well, well, it can't be helped. Only one left." Zeus spoke sadly, noting the effect on Demo.

"And you want me to fetch this precious object for you?" Demo queried.