Part 9

"Come with me. I am Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. We must tell Zeus. There will be great rejoicing on Olympus. Zeus feared I should never find a suitable husband! Yet, here you are!"

She reached out for his hand. They never touched, for then, twice in this one day, a mysterious force intervened. Looking upward he saw great dark clouds boiling. From their depth a streak of lightning sundered the ground between him and Athena. Dust and rubble filled the air, and the ground shook beneath his feet.

A mighty voice, deep and vibrant, rumbled from the heavens.

"Mortal, dare you even think to consort with the Gods!"

For a moment he heard no other sound. He looked up in awe at the darkened sky. The silence enwrapped him as a shroud. Even the wind whispered not.

"On your way! Back to your valley!"

Lightless, the sky seemed only a black blanket drawn over his head. The winds once more gusted, tearing angrily at trees and bushes. The thunder rumbled ominously in preparation for another lightning strike.

"Marry for yourself a simple galleymaid. Do not anger the mighty Zeus! Husband to Athena? Bah!"

He shrank back in dismay, wide-eyed.

Though he was silent, Athena bravely replied. "He has saved me from your evil brother, Pluto. He has risked his life for mine. He shall be rewarded. Oh mighty Zeus, if you love me, grant this to me."

Rumblings reverberated from the walls of the mountain canyon. Finally they give way to silence. Then, with brief lightning flashes from cloud to cloud, there is a response.

"Very well, my dear. Perhaps it shall be as you desire. He's a brave young man. Striking down a minion of Pluto alone does not, of itself, make him deserving. Nevertheless, he may indeed join us on Olympus."

The voice stopped, the clouds darkened even more. The mountain, in the midst of day, is black as midnight.

By the sound alone he knows that Athena again reaches her hand to him. And again a bolt from the sky separates the two.

"No! First he must prove himself worthy." The voice once more thunders. "To win the hand of a Goddess is not an easy chore. But, if you prove yourself, it shall be as you desire. First, though, . . .," - and now the voice grew soft and warm with an assumed kindness.

"Yes, first you must perform some minor chores. A few little tasks, perhaps. Yes, that's it! A dozen or so little tasks. Piddling things, actually. Hmmm, let me give some thought to this."

The skies were beginning to lighten. The voice of Zeus had softened indeed, as had his mood. The clouds were rapidly dissipating. Blue patches of sky emerged. The dark clouds dissipated, and small white clouds drifted gently above.

"Go home! Prepare yourself! And when I call be quick to begin your sojourn. - Eh, yes, I think minor little chores."

It almost sounds like Zeus is humming happily to himself.

The wind whipped the leaves along the pathway, the clouds tore asunder. And, even as he glanced back to earth, Athena, too, had departed.

Nothing remained to reflect the tragedy that might have been. Nothing remained to reflect the beauty and wonder of Athena. Yet . . . .

On the ground, fluttering in the now gentle breeze, a single memento - a pure white feather. He picked it up gently, reverently.

What to do?

What to do? "This is madness. I am dreaming. Death and imps! Goddesses and Gods. What has happened today? Can it be real!" He looked around at the forest, at the sky. All was calm, normal. Except for one thing.

In his hand he held a white feather.

Reluctantly he continued his hunt. There must be food for his mother and himself. In spite of himself, because of the day's events, his thoughts strayed.

He blushed again as he thought of the beautiful Goddess. "Can I return to my hut, live as a simple hunter, having seen her?"

"No! As Zeus has spoken, I shall return and await his command. After all, how difficult can be a few little chores?"