Chapter 7

Reluctantly Cronus and Rhea agreed to leave. Of course, they pleaded with the children. He and Poseidon had felt remorse, had almost backed down, allowed them to remain.

Zeus was adamant. He would provide the Titans a world of their own, but to that world they must depart. And so depart they did, off to Tartarus.

The exodus went smoothly, except for that little incident of the Curse of Cronus. At first he thought it was merely a bad joke. Ah, a few gray hairs and aching joints had long since convinced him. It was no joke!

Well, well, time had passed. And now here he sat on the throne of his realm. With a queen yet!

So he had stolen her away! It hadn't really been done with evil intent. And he had made an honest woman of her, proper marriage ceremony and all.

He'd never forget her mother. Angry? Whew, was she ever angry! Nothing she could do, however. Zeus himself conducted the ceremony. Couldn't be more official than that.

Food was delicious. Persephone hadn't eaten much. Of course, every young girl is excited by her marriage, wouldn't expect her to eat very heartily.

Joyful occasion, over all.

Except for two incidents.

Zeus had promised Persephone as a wedding present to give her one wish. How would anyone guess that she would wish for six months each year with her mother! Dreadful mistake, that wedding present. Zeus was a bit muddled, plainly, when he let himself be cajoled into such a promise.

The other incident hadn't been quite that bad.

Ceres came forward to give him her blessing.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, looked straight at him, and intoned slowly - "One born of man shall aid her, and when you follow him it will be to a foreordained destiny."

That was all. She smiled, turned away, and left the wedding party.

He had brooded long over her words.

Zeus knew not of their content, or refused to divulge his knowledge.

She was his bride, this his kingdom, and the only earthlings were those poor souls whose lifely habits had condemned them to his control.

Pluto, Ruler of Hades, to fear nothing.

Death could not claim him!

Even Zeus entered not into Pluto's domain!

So why this premonition, this uncertainty!

9. The Dragon's Breath

"My Boy, My Boy! Ah, I am indeed so proud of you! Such daring! Such courage! And such wisdom! Well, I am all but shamed to send you on the ridiculous chore I now have in mind."

Zeus rubbed his hands together, clapped them, and otherwise exhibited an excess of glee.

"Yes, after surviving such adventures as that of the Minotaur, the next task will be rather childish. Ah, well, even routine chores must be done. I have the same problem, you know."

"Indeed, every day, day in and day out, I must spin the earth around. I actually missed a day! Gave everyone quite a scare. Ho! I made up for it. Spun it twice as fast the next day. I say, that was jolly."

"Of course, the wife gave me whatfor. Oh, I deserved it. You know, if you don't give it that spin each day, it starts to wobble. I wonder if I didn't spin it for . . .?"

He looked around for his wife. "Of course, I would never consider doing that. Eh, well, the next chore . . ."

"Dentistry! I hate the thought of it! My dentist tells me I need to have some teeth replaced. Ridiculous! Five teeth, to be exact."

"Of course, I couldn't possibly use ordinary repairs. Gold teeth, now. I do like the sheen of gold. But, no, that wont do. Very picky, these dentists. At times I've thought of driving them out of Olympus, right down to another kingdom! Let 'em visit Pluto for a while. My brother's very sociable."

"And that, in a nutshell, is the chore."

"To drive out the dentists?", Demo asked in confusion.

"Sorry, sorry. To continue, then." Zeus frowned. "You know, you've really shown a great deal of brilliance. I'm surprised I have to explain things in such detail. Never mind. Now listen carefully."

He paused, sipped slowly from his flask the divine nectar of the Gods. He frowned, and a large black cloud formed above him. In a moment rain drops began to pellet them.

Hastily he looked up. "Ah, go away! Go away! Go bother Pluto!"

The cloud drifted rapidly away, darting from side to side in uncertainty. Zeus reached up, produced a towel, and wiped his visage.

"They've changed the flavor again. Can't leave well enough alone. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. That's what I always say. It's not like the good old days. They knew how to prepare nectar then. I mean real nectar, with a kick."

He took another sip. "Well, well, one must make do."

"Cadmus. He killed this serpent, see. Knocked out its teeth, sowed them like seed, and raised an . . . Oh, it doesn't matter!"

"The important thing is, five teeth remain. For all his prowess, he didn't knock them out. My dentist says I must have those. No substitutes. No plastic. The real McCoy. Dentists!"

"Anyway, they're right in your own back yard. T'other side of the mountain from your home, actually. Easy day's trip. Just get a gunny sack, go over and pick 'em up, and bring 'em back. Your task, then - should you choose to accept it - is - get those teeth."

Demo frowned. Somehow it seemed he had heard those words before.

Zeus smiled kindly, reached out and patted Demo's head.

"I do apologize. It's such a silly task! But necessary. So be on your way."

Demo stood up, knowing he had been dismissed. The sudden landing when dismissed from Olympus back to earthly surroundings is best met standing and with flexed muscles.

As he departed he heard Zeus murmur, "Actually, this nectar does have a certain bouquet, a body, an essence of its own."

He couldn't quite make out the last few words. " Hmmm, did I tell the boy that the serpent isn't dead after all? Minor detail."

"Mother, do you know aught of Cadmus?"

"Cadmus. Oh, yes, he lived down the valley a ways. Strange fellow. Went around killing dragons and such. In fact, that was his downfall. Poor soul. Why do you ask."

"Was he a dentist?"

"Oh, heavens no! Sorry, Zeus, no disrespect intended. Ah, you're thinking of the dragon's teeth. Did I ever tell you about that. It goes to show the ridiculous way some of the neighbors behave. Let me see." She paused, a slight frown on her face.

"If you cross the mountain at lowpass and descend to where the river forks, you'll see it."

Demo waited, but plainly she wanted him to ask.

"Yes, mother, what is it I will see?"

"The field, the very field where Cadmus sowed the dragon's teeth. It grew him a dreadful crop, it did."

"Warriors! They sprang up from the ground! Fully armed, ready for battle. Big, burly, rascals all. And he didn't even have to water or fertilize. I wonder how big they might have been if he had used fertilizer?"

"Vicious tempers, though. Hardly spoke a civil word to him or each other before they were hard at it, fighting like children. He just stood and watched openmouthed. Couldn't believe adults would behave so abominably. Did I pronounce that right?"

"Yes, mother, I think you did."

"Thank you. I really need to review my English - eh, Greek. One does forget, you know."

"Cadmus, mother, and the dragon's teeth?"

"They went bonkers, killed each other off, except for half a dozen. They looked around, and one said 'Hey, you could get hurt out here.' and they walked off the field over to Cadmus. He put them to work building some kind of city, Planned to live there, I think. Anyway, he got one of the God's peeved. Wasn't too smart, Cadmus."

"Really, mother. What happened?"

"Turned him and his wife into serpents. Kind of poetic justice I suppose. He comes slithering around this way every so often. I don't mind, cause he kills the mice. It is a little disconcerting when he starts talking about the good old days, though. And I have to be extra careful I don't step on him. He always was the one to be underfoot."

Demo bartered with the village smithy for some metal tongs and a hammer, stowed them in his pouch, and headed for lowpass. A beautiful day, with bright sun and cooling breeze.

"Five teeth. Zeus is right, this is a silly task."

At lowpass he gazed out over the wide valley. The river flowed roughly through its center, and the fork in the river was less than half a day's travel away. With a satisfied grunt he began the descent.

At first the trail ran steeply down. He half walked, half slid. But eventually the incline became less intense, and he made good progress. The path widened as it reached the green meadow. From there it led with little deviation directly to the dragon's woods.

In due time he reached the field. It was immediately recognizable.

Rusted armor and scattered bones brought tears to his eyes. So many brave men had died, and for nothing!

Here and there a small helmet rose only partway above the ground. "Ah, bad seed, I suppose. Never ripened."

Then he heard it.

The sound came from the forest adjoining the field. A moan, almost ghostly in quality.

"Do the spirits of these dead warriors dwell in yonder copses?" he whispered to himself. Slowly he approached the forest edge.

It rushed from among the trees, fire breathing from its mouth. Its huge body threshed from side to side, knocking giant trees to the ground.

As it saw him it stopped, moaned again. "I see you have some tongs there. Are you perchance a dentist. I've got this terrible toothache." It had hardly finished speaking when it moaned once more.

"No, I'm not a dentist. But, see here, maybe there is something I can do. Do you know where I'll find a dead dragon. Killed by Cadmus, if I rightly recall?"

"I am he, eh, it. Didn't kill me. Terrible dentist. Never, never go to Cadmus for treatment. No anesthetic at all! just yanked 'em out." The creature shuddered.

"The worst part is, he left five. He left the five I really had wanted him to work on. Never, never, trust a dentist. Oh, boy, do they ache."

Five, well that must be the five. Demo thought carefully.

"Well, hang in there. I think we can get you some help. Come along now."

When they arrived at Olympus Zeus was out back.

"Just go through the gate right there," Hera smiled. "I'm sure he'll be glad to see you. Shouldn't your pet be on a leash, though? Keep him out of the flowers. And don't let him chase my cat. She'll claw him good if he does."

She reached down and scratched her pet behind the ears. The saber-toothed tiger purred softly, arched its back. With a supercilious look it examined the dragon as though it were an oversize mouse. Eventually it followed Hera out the door, merely stopping once to glance disdainfully back.

Zeus was busy, feeding fuel to a small still. He opened a valve at the base, filled his flask with the sparkling liquid.

"This is it. Just the right flavor. Just the right consistency. Just the right strength." He slowly sipped, threw his head back and took a larger swallow.

At that moment Demo and his companion entered the garden, and the dragon groaned.

Zeus took the cup from his lips, stared wide-eyed at the dragon, then looked at his drink. He closed his eyes, shook his head, then looked at the dragon once more.

"Boy, do you notice something unusual behind you. I do believe this nectar has muddled my senses."

"Oh, no sir. Nothing unusual. I've completed my task."

"Nothing unusual." He said the words sadly, emptied his flask on the ground. "I was afraid you were going to say that." He shook his head.

He looked once more at the dragon and frowned. "I'll drink no more of that stuff."

"The teeth, boy, the gunny sack full of teeth. Where are they?"

"Right here, sir." Demo pointed to the dragon.

Zeus blinked, then smiled.

"Aaah! Yes! I understand. Well, now, that's all right. I had some doubts there for a moment. Thank you, my boy." He refilled his flagon.

"Yes, I see. Well, take them, then. The teeth, that is. Fight him. Hit him a nasty blow and take the teeth. Get on with it."

"Oh, no sir. He's more than willing to part with them. They hurt dreadfully, he tells me. I told him your dentist would willingly remove them."

"Yes, of course." Somehow Zeus sounded disappointed.

Odd, he sounded disappointed at the completion of each task.

"Well," Zeus growled at the dragon. "Don't just stand there. The phone's over yonder. Make an appointment and get them pulled. I do hope the dentist isn't all booked up."

The palace had all the jewels, all the objects of art, all the trappings a person could desire. But for a country girl raised in a small hut it lacked a prime requisite.

It flat wasn't homey.

Such was Persephone's evaluation.

Even that could have, over time, been corrected.

A second problem concerned her even more.

Her husband.

He wasn't presentable.

His looks were atrocious, his bearing boorish, and he could only be described as uncouth.

He had one slight redeeming grace.

In his own strange way, he loved her.

That fact, more than anything else, made her unhappy.

If he were but toying with her she could willingly have despised, yes, even hated him!

His love was real.

He showed it in his every attempt to be kind, in his watchful manner. If she seemed to only hunger, he sent for food. If she were only tired, he prepared her bed. If she showed sorrow he tried to bring joy.

How miserable to be married to a monster with a kind heart!

Her feelings vacillated.

At times she hated him for having abducted her, for keeping her from her mother and the flowery garden where she had played.

At times she pitied him for the suffering he bore uncomplainingly.

Only she knew the sadness in his soul as each new sinner moved into his kingdom. Their pain he suffered too. Yet he was chained forever to his duty, to be the Master of the Nether Regions.

In spite of her feelings she thought of different ploys, plotted, to escape from this dark world.

In time that escape would occur.

As would regrets.

10. Heaven's Essence

On Olympus, in spite of all the stories and legends, idyllic conditions do prevail. Zeus and Hera live in peaceful bonds of matrimony. Mercury zooms off here and yon, now here, now yon. Zephyrs blow gently. Paradise indeed.

But, occasionally, matters go astray. The essence of heaven is flavored with a drop from misery's vial. And, oh, what despondency, what black moods, and what strange and tragic escapades a drop may launch!

Demo found himself at the center of one such escapade. He quickly wished himself elsewhere. To no avail.

"We're going on a very short vacation, Hera and I. It's been eons, literally, eons! So I just want you to take care of the place while were gone. Keep an eye on things. Check the house plants, make sure they are watered. Feed Cerberus's pup. That's really about it. I suppose I ought not do it, but I'll give you credit for a full - eh, for half a task." Zeus smiled happily.

"You told me . . . .," Hera paused, and angry look in her eye.

"You are right dear, you are absolutely right. A full task, my boy. Out of the goodness of my heart." Zeus glanced petulantly toward Hera. Fortunately she was examining her garb in the mirror.

"Oh, one minor detail. You'll be baby-sitting Cupid during our absence. Venus left him here to keep us company. He's a wonderful little chap. I'm sure you'll get along splendidly."

Was there a smirk on Zeus' face, a touch of facetiousness in his voice?

"Boy, why are you sitting on the throne of Zeus?"

Demo turned, startled.

"Eh, you see, I'm in charge. Zeus is on vacation, and I'm filling in for him."

"Indeed! A likely story. Let's see your credentials!"

For a moment Demo hesitated. Then he stood erect, shoulders back, as kingly as he knew how to stand.

"Who are you to question the credentials of an appointee of the mighty Zeus. See, here in my hands he has left his thunderbolt, symbol of his power. And in a moment I shall become angry and cast it at you. Begone! And when you are allowed to return, do so with a better grace, or I shall send you trapping, off to visit . . . well, off to visit his brother Pluto. Now, off with you, and quickly!"

Demo took the thunderbolt in his right hand, raised it high, and made as furious a face as a 17 year old might make.

Apparently it was sufficient. The lackey backed quickly out of immediate range, bowing low and rushing madly from the room as he reached the entranceway.

Demo smiled.

Well, he thought, I could have done worse. A little more practice is all I need. This Zeus surrogate role could be quite pleasant.

It wouldn't be.

The clouds were difficult. In fact, he couldn't master them at all.

With Zeus, merely to think an angry thought generated them. They clustered, dark and ominous, above his head. Streaks of lightning jumped from cloud to cloud.

Demo tried, but he could not really develop a seriously angry thought. At one time he did almost generate a mild fog, thinking about the fox-imp. With it's antic in mind, his better nature overcame him, and he broke into laughter. Poor fox-imp. It had been so concerned when Rough growled.

For two days were Zeus and Hera to vacation, and two trials were imposed on Demo, one on each of those long days.

The first day Demo sat in the garden, relaxing, watching the green grass grow. It was chore that pleased him, requiring little physical or mental exertion. There are those who prefer to sit and watch green grass wither. Not Demo. He really had no mean bone in his body. At least, if he so had he to date hadn't located it. Actually, he hadn't searched very thoroughly.

Nevertheless and regardless, here he sat, watching the green grass grow. Occasionally he broke out his micrometer, measured a blade or two. "I believe they are shirking. Hasn't changed a single millimeter!"

Would that it could have lasted.

"Sire," Janus bowed. "There are two who would have your counsel."

Demo nodded. "Oh, very well. Send them in. Oh, and bring me my nectar."

The two who entered were unknown to him. One, the smaller, limped. The taller, however, walked as unsteadily as did the small one, and his red nose and blinking eyes suggested a state of inebriation.

Demo frowned.

"Well, what would you have of me. Get on with it!"

"Sire, this picture, this picture so well crafted, is claimed by Bacchus. By Bacchus, who can not draw a straight line, nor walk one. He claims to have painted it, with all its intricacies and beauty. He lies. I, and I alone, painted this picture. I would take it with me to my island of Lemnos."

"Poppycock! Preposterous! This limping lout knows that Zeus is absent. He wishes to take advantage of your innocence. He is a worker in metal, merely an artisan. His soul is burned by the smithy's fire. Art! He knows nothing of art! This picture is of my own design, and it contains my very soul. An artist, you know, puts himself into his every product. Look! Here is beauty, wonder, brilliance - would a smithy even aspire to such qualities as reflected here!"

"Ho, yon wimpy wine sop would not know one end of the brush from the other. More like he would paint the picture in wines of many colors, not with the pigments you see on this my parchment.

The picture, limned on parchment stretched on a wooden frame, depicted a forest scene. Near at hand the trunks of large trees, and seen between them, in the distance, an open meadow. There danced woodnymphs.

Demo examined the picture carefully, then turned it face away from the purported owners.

"Tell me," he looked at Bacchus, "what is portrayed, and how so portrayed?"

He listened quietly to the exposition of the sylvan scene, the merry dance of the nymphs, the greens and browns and tone colors that formed the hues.

"And you," turning to Vulcan, "describe to me this picture."

Vulcan closed his eyes and was silent. Then he spoke slowly, almost as in a trance. "This is the picture of a maiden, her golden hair lighted by a single beam filtered through the forest foliage. All else is only background, merely there that she might display her beauty. It is but a vision, unreal, of what might be. Yes, it is only the picture of a maiden."

"Could each of you supply me with a picture similar in nature that I might compare?"

Neither could respond to his request.

"Well, without more evidence I find that I cannot judge for one or the other. Let me give further thought to the matter. Eh, come back in 2 days. Zeus will be here, he'll resolve the problem quickly."

"My Lord, we are both to leave this edifice this very day. Zeus has so decreed. He was unhappy with our problem, and requested that we bring it to your attention."

Demo frowned. To my attention!

"It's time for my ambrosia. Return when the sun begins its descent. I'll give you and answer then.

He mused. He thought. He worried. He ate.

Delicious, this ambrosia. Not equivalent to his Mother's cooking. But certainly good enough for Zeus.

He carved the food carefully, munching on each savory bite. And as he carved a thought came to mind.

Okay, I've a solution. With my knife I shall rend the picture from top to bottom and each may keep his half."

He took picture, laid it on the table before him, face up, pulled out his hunting knife.

Bacchus rose, looked at the picture, then shrugged. "Very well, Sire. It will serve me just as well. It is but an ornament to decorate my wall."

Vulcan looked at Bacchus, at the picture, and then at Demo.

"No, I would have my picture. Still, let it remain whole. Though Bacchus may own it, it shall ever be mine. Better it decorate his wall in its entirety than suffer the sacrilege of dissection."

"Upon further thought, Master Vulcan, I consider the picture to be yours. You speak true, it is the picture of a maiden. All else is there only for her. And you would lose your masterpiece rather than see it destroyed. Take it."

"As for you, Master Bacchus, I find you to be deceitful in this matter. I would have you accompany Master Vulcan. For six months you will serve him. And he, in that six months, shall teach you the rudiments of his art. Now, begone, for Cerberus' pup grows hungry."

Was I right? Demo questioned himself. Perhaps, after all, Bacchus did paint the scene. What would Zeus have done?

Ah, Zeus would have done much the same. And, being Zeus, he'd be right by definition. So, of course, as Zeus' surrogate I too am right by definition.

Demo smiled. This God stuff wasn't too bad at that.

So he thought!

Children are lovable. As babies they, sweet and cuddly, invite one's kind adoration. As toddlers, though underfoot, they laugh and chatter, bring brightness into our dull lives. Older, they play, are now defiant, now dependent, as they seek to find their place in the world.

Then, there was Cupid. Not quite the child. Yet not an adult. Ever with the prankish nature of youth. Armed, nevertheless, with a bow. Armed with arrows of the most pernicious kind. Sly, at times. Open and outgoing at others, he shared the faults - and the virtues - of his mother, Venus.

The second day started off nicely. Demo gave the world a little extra twirl, and it hummed along smoothly. He did note a slight wobble, and gave it a slight extra spin to compensate.

He checked the progress of the sun, the positions of the stars, and kept a weather eye on earth and underworld.

No problems surfaced.

He was being lulled into an unwary mood.

The attack began!

It was ruthless! They came at him in droves, never giving him time to think. His face whitened, reddened, turned blue.

Demo tried to think of the terms Zeus might use under such circumstances. They didn't come.

Zeus' old flames - angry, petulant, pleading, demanding!

Demo was caught off guard.

They informed him that they had an audience. Zeus plainly had forgotten to pass on the information to him. They waited impatiently for the promised audience.

Zeus had promised faithfully, to each and every one, a place by his side on the throne. Had promised the decision on this very day. At these words Demo hair stood on end.