Part 13

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.