Part 10

He thought he saw the imp dancing through the bushes, chortling in glee.

Suddenly he tossed away the white feather. Even as it floated down the side of the mountain he took up his weapons, returned to the hunt.

"How foolish can I be," he muttered to himself. "Even if it were real. I to wed a Goddess! It cannot be!"

Shadows were lengthening, soon night would fall. Nights on the high mountain are cold and forlorn. Already the sun, hidden by the storm clouds, neared the horizon. The sky, an angry red, peaked through rents in the dark clouds. Large drops of rain pelted him, cold with the hint of hail.

Yet, swiftly, the body of the storm had swept by. The remaining clouds drifted high above, each in its solitary domain. The wind still gusted from time to time, momentarily, then faded.

Tree leaves fluttered as the evening breeze began its soft caress. In the eastern sky a single star began to shine. One of the heaven's wanderers, not unlike himself on the earth below.

He halted. In the copse ahead a creature moved. Sensing his presence it froze in position. A tawny hide, revealed momentarily between the leaves, brought a gleam to Demo's eye.

A buck!

Demo notched his arrow, waited silently.

The antlered head extended above the bushes. The moist nostrils sniffed the air. Then the buck bounded across the trail.

The arrow flew, and without glancing at the prey he unstrung his bow.

As he moved toward the copse a falling leaf drifted down, dressed in the yellow-brown of the coming season. His eyes followed it, then he glanced toward the copse. In astonishment, he noted that the buck was no where to be seen. Quickly he rushed forward. Nothing! No buck, and no sign of life!

"Not possible, not possible that I have missed! Now, where is the deer," Demo wondered aloud.

The light glinted on an object. He saw, lying on the forest floor, that object. An object that caused him to freeze in place. A beautiful white feather. And beneath it on the ground, his arrow. Athena will not be rejected!

Uncertainly he stared from side to side, hesitated. Finally he picked up the feather, pressed it to his heart.

"It is the will of the Gods!"

He returned the arrow to its pouch, rushed through the darkening forest to the mountain hut far below.

"I must prepare myself. I must be ready to perform the tasks of Zeus!"

Olympus is a world far removed from this, our earthly abode. Its laws are not as our laws, its inhabitants not as those of earth. Here dwelt, from time to time, the twelve major Gods. Here ruled Zeus, the ThunderGod.

It is said the Gods, all powerful, do what they will, act as they wish, and answer to none.

Not true!

Moira, to whose edicts even mighty Zeus must acquiesce, had long before Olympus' birth assigned duties. Assigned those duties that ever were to weigh upon the celestial house. Duties that seemed, to those who bore them, merely whims of their own devising.

Zeus, forever to nudge the earth, to keep that sphere spinning in its little space. Poseidon, ever to keep the busy waters flowing, mixing, changing. Pluto, to warden the whole of Hades, dealing out evenhandedly to each of the ferryman's charges that portion of eternal punishment that each had earned.

And each lesser God, also duties had.

Of the Gods only Zeus sensed that strange and ever-present being, realized that responsibilities had been assigned. He knew not Fate by name, but knew full well the chores ever to be done. At times he chafed under their weight, yet always returned to his given work. Where others might have rebelled Zeus pondered, understood, and acquiesced. And as these duties were laid on him, he laid also duties on man. Pride, a strange duty indeed. Yet each must be proud of himself, of his selfworth. And work he imposed, for pride comes from work well done. The duty to love, and to seek love were there. The duty to be gentle, and to be harsh - and the wisdom to choose the time for each.

Yes, Zeus tempered duties imposed, with wisdom for their performance.

When Zeus had looked on Demo he had been troubled. This earthling would, of course, fail in one or all the tasks to be imposed.

And still, within, he felt the might of Moira and knew misgivings.