The young goddess had tried to go to the common room when she heard voices on the other side of the door. An older mortal woman had commanded her back inside. Kore had tried to ask this woman what was happening to her, but this woman had simply told her not get out of bed unless she needed to use the chamber pot. She could hear the woman outside her door chatting and giggling with other women. Their laughter reminded Kore of the nymphs. She wished for the daughters of Oceanus now or for Athena. They could tell her what was happening.
Her mother could explain it as well, Kore thought. More tears fell down the sides of her face. This time she did not wipe them off. She had learned not long after her arrived not to make a sound when she cried. That mortal woman in the common room would come in and slap her across the face with almost the same force Pirithous had used on her. The woman’s hand had not left a bruise on her cheek as the prince’s had. She had become thankful for that, and she also learned quickly what deeds earned her being hit. The list grew longer as each day passed: asking for her mother, standing by the window, not eating all her food and asking if Pirithous would be seeing her soon. She wondered if they would slap her for speaking soon.
She raised her left hand to her head, resting her cheek on her thumb and her forefinger on her forehead. The goddess took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She tried to think of running in the fields with the nymphs; her mind could only picture the clearing where Pirithous had asked her to meet him. If he refused to see her, then she had no wish to picture him in her mind. Thinking of her mother only brought tears to her eyes; the tears would drench the blanket and that mortal woman would think that Kore had not made it the chamber pot in time. Her lips trembled uncontrollably at the memory of that woman dragging her out of bed to the corner where the chamber pot was kept.
Kore whispered the lessons Athena had been giving her prior to the prince bringing her here. Each time she recited them, she remembered a little more. Athena and taught her to read and write, and in her head, Kore spelled out her name and then used the letters to spell out the words of each item in her room. Her lips still trembled but it had stopped the tears.
“Why are you sad?” a little voice coming from the door said to her.
Kore opened her eyes as she lifted her head off her fingers to see a mortal boy-child standing just inside the room. She lowered her hand and stared at the child for several long seconds, uncertain if she should speak with him or not. She had no wish to add something else to the list of things she would get slapped for. The boy-child stepped to the edge of the bed. He might stay there, if she said nothing.
“No one will talk to me,” she finally told him.
“I’ll talk to you,” the boy-child smiled.
Kore returned the smile. “What is your name?”
“Polypoetes,” he said with the smile still on his face. “My grandfather is the King here.”
The goddess blinked. She had heard that name before. She quickly searched her memories, recalling that the mortal prince had told her that his son’s name was Polypoetes. “Your father is Pirithous?” The boy-child nodded. Words spoken by Athena during their lessons flashed in her mind. Mortals were weak and grew at a much slower pace than gods. She felt her breath quicken, recalling the size of the baby Pirithous had handed her in the clearing; there was no way this could have been the same child –there was no way he could have grown that much between when she had seen him then and this day. Kore covered her mouth tightly as fresh tears fell down the side of her face. The mortal prince was a liar! She felt the scream at the bottom of her throat and as much as she tried to stop it, the cry burst out of her mouth.
She could hear the stomping of feet on the other side of the door. Kore collapsed to her side as voices yelled at her to be quiet. Through blurry eyes, she watched the woman enter and remove the boy from the room. She pulled the blankets closer to her and sobbed until the muscles in her stomach began to tighten then release. Kore breathed deeply, hearing heavy footsteps return. She looked to the door to see Pirithous standing there. His face was red and his breathing was as deep as hers.
“How did you coax the boy in here?” he demanded. “What pretty words did you speak to convince him to take pity on you?”
Kore closed her eyes; her hand gripping the blanket. The muscles in her stomach tightened again. She squealed then opened her eyes again. The mortal prince remained in the doorway, waiting for his answer. There was nothing she could tell him that he would possibly believe. The goddess pushed herself into a sitting position and stared at Pirithous.
“Please just hit me and get it over with,” she said.
The prince tilted his head back, his lips tightening so much that they could hardly be seen. She watched his nostrils flare. She breathed deeply, trying to keep her face as stern as his as her belly continued to flex and relax.
“If you’re not going to bruise my face again, why don’t you just leave,” she said, her voice trembling with every word.
Pirithous crossed from the door to her side in three long strides. “How dare you speak to me like that! I am the son of Zeus.” He raised his hand at her and instead of allowing him to strike her again, she grabbed his arm tightly, twisted the limb until it snapped, just as Athena hand once shown her. The mortal prince screamed as Kore released his arm. She came to her feet and pushed him away from her. As fast as her legs could take her, she crawled off the bed steps from where Pirithous cradled his arm. The goddess hurried from the bedchamber and into the hallway. The woman who had been her keeper looked at her with wide eyes.
Kore breathed, allowing the memories of the journey from the entrance to the palace to the apartment door. Step by step, she followed the path outside. No one bothered her more than it took to stop and watch her leave. The sun just outside the main door blinded her, but an instant later, her eyes adjusted. Her mind quickly recalled the path they had taken to get from the city limits to the palace.
The further she walked the more her stomach ached. More than once she had to stop to let her muscles relax again. Near the gate, a woman and her husband offered her a ride in their wagon as far as their homestead outside the city walls. Kore accepted their kindness, uncertain if the repeated pains in her stomach would let her walk any further. The goddess climbed into the back of the wagon and curled up in the corner and listened to the mortal woman chatter about what brought her and her husband to the city.
“Where are you headed?” the woman asked when it seemed she had nothing else to say.
“Home,” Kore replied, turning her attention to the passing fields around them.
She had little idea just how she would be getting home or if the mortal prince might send people to find her. The safest place for her to go would be her uncle’s realm below the surface of the earth, but she needed to figure out how to get there from this city. She closed her eyes and willed the details Athena had given her about the geography of the land. There were several entrances to the Underworld; it was just a matter of remembering where the closest one was. She rested her forehead on the palm of her hand. Her eyes shot open the moment her mind remembered that she could find one close to the city.
“Which gate out of the city did we use?” Kore asked the mortal woman.
“The northern gate, my child,” the woman told her.
Kore smiled, lowering her hand. The young goddess pushed herself to her knees, looking north. Her grin grew at the sight of the hill in front of them. Behind the hill to the north of the Lapiths’ city will you find the nearest entrance to our uncle’s realm, Athena had said.
“How close are you traveling to that hill, good sir?” Kore said to the mortal man.
“Our homestead is at the base, girl,” he replied. “Why?”
“That is my way home,” Kore said. She sat back down just as the muscles in her stomach began to tighten again. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleeping, coming awake when the wagon came to a stop inside a barn. The mortal man helped her to the ground.
“It is dark, girl,” the mortal woman told her. “Stay with us tonight and continue your journey on the morrow.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Kore said. “May the gods smile upon you for your courtesy but I must keep going.”
The mortal woman pulled the shawl from around her own shoulders and wrapped it around Kore. “Take this with you then and stay safe.”
Kore embraced the woman and slowly walked out of the barn, continuing toward the far side of the hill. On the other side, she found the symbols that noted this was an entrance to the Underworld. The goddess pushed the stone slab aside; she found two torches on the wall just inside. One was lit but the other was not. She grabbed the unlit torch once she pushed the door shut. She began her descent to the Underworld using the symbols on the walls as her guide. In the distance she thought she heard the howling of Cerberus.
Chapter 6
Hades cursed under his breath as he stepped onto Charon’s empty boat. It had taken him longer to return to his palace than he had hoped. Demeter had questioned his every decision in regards to his rescuing her precious daughter. For an instant he thought his sister might insist on coming with him, and then it would have taken yet more time to convince the grieving goddess that she would be a hindrance than a help.
It would be best for him to gone alone, he told his kin, although he neglected to tell any of them why. Zeus would have cursed him for a fool after hearing the explanation, and then Poseidon in all his fury would have said that he had a better idea. Hades could imagine Ares grinning with amusement at Poseidon’s plan to cause an earthquake and then rescue Kore in the midst of the chaos. The god of war would have been more than happy to lead the search party just as long as he got to kill as many mortals as possible along the way.
The god of the dead could not have argued that the idea Poseidon might have put forward would not work. It had its merits; the first among them punishing the Lapiths for their prince thinking himself worthy of a goddess for his wife. Hades pushed the thoughts aside; the mortals of the Lapiths’ city would be his subjects in due time; there was no need to rush their arrivals; he would let the Fates decide when the mortals descended to his realm.
As the boat approached the docks on the far side of the River Acheron, Hades focused his thoughts back on his plan. After the incident involving the mortal King Sisyphus, he had come to believe spying on the mortal rulers as a way to gather information that might prevent such things from happening again. He had wanted to learn firsthand what motivated mortal kings to do what they did. Hades had lived amongst the Lapiths, getting himself well-positioned to be close to King Ixion. He had spent years at the King’s side and had learned next to nothing that might help him prevent the gods from stopping the mortals from tricking them again.
He left, after politely taking his leave of the mortal king. He had thought his time there useless; now it would get him close enough to the King to rescue Kore from their city walls. The boat thudded against the dock; Hades came to his feet to help through the ropes to the dock hands. He looked out at the mass of souls waiting to be allowed onto the boat. He had only been on this side of the river once before when he had traveled to the Lapiths’ city. The god had been shocked by the numbers then, but there seemed to be double the numbers this day; the increase could only be because Demeter had neglected her duties.
With Kore back at her mother’s side, the deaths of mortals would return to their normal levels. Hades stepped behind Charon, as the boatman opened the gate and lowered the ramp for the mortals to come aboard.
“Wait until I command ye all aboard,” the boatman shouted.
Charon turned to Hades and nodded. The god descended the ramp with all the souls moving aside for him to pass as he stepped onto the dock. His eyes moved passed the sea of souls, up an incline in the terrain. Guarding the entrance to the Underworld stood a maze. No mortal had yet to cross into the Underworld from this portal. The thought made Hades grin; thus far only the demigod Heracles had reached his cavernous domain, but the son of Zeus had used another route that the god quickly had sealed once Cerberus had been returned to his post.
He listened to the clicking of his sword’s sheath against his armor as he continued his way through the souls. Once his feet hit stone instead of weed, his boatman called for passengers to board. Regularly, souls whose families had had not put coin in their mouth to pay Charon tried to get passage to the other side of the river, and today Hades could hear one such soul pleading to be allowed on board. Hades was half tempted to put the wretched soul in its place; however, he had promised Demeter that he would make the journey to the Lapiths’ city and back with her daughter as quickly as possible.
The sounds of the soul being hauled away faded behind him as he reached the edge of the maze. The god stopped to reach for one of the unlit torches along the wall. He slid the wood out of the sconce just as another sound hit his ears. He jerked his head to the right with barely enough time to see a female figure collapse to the ground. Quickly, the god slid the torch back into place and knelt down beside the woman.
“Uncle Hades,” Kore breathed.
Thank Gaia, the god of the dead thought as he pulled the young goddess into his arms and marched back to the boat. Charon commanded the souls to part for Hades to pass. The god found a corner of the large boat with a bench he lowered Kore on. The goddess stayed silent, closing her eyes as Charon pushed the boat from the dock. The souls who had managed to gain passage this round all kept as far away from where Hades stood guard over his brother’s daughter.
At the dock on the opposite side of the river, the souls gave him enough space to carry Kore off the boat. His horse master waited on the edge of the field with his chariot and four horses. Only rarely did Hades allow anyone to drive his chariot and he made today one of the exceptions. He doubted Kore would release her grip around his neck.
The horse master kept his stallions steady while Hades stepped into the chariot. The mortal soul quickly followed behind him and ordered the four black stallions into motion. Hades paid little attention to the souls who stopped along their route to watch the chariot pass. He listened to Kore’s breathing. He hoped she might say something, anything, but she uttered not a word. She didn’t even stir as the chariot crossed the fields of Asphodel.
At the entrance to the palace, the horse master slowed the chariot to a stop long enough for Hades to descend with Kore. A guard rushed to open the large ebony door. Other servants rushed about the great hall to get out of his way, even as he shouted for a healer to join him in his apartments. His chamberlain hurried to his side to report on every single event that had occurred in his lord’s absence; as usual, the soul left no detail out, not even the slightest infraction of what the chamberlain had called “The Rules”.
The god of the dead ignored the chamberlain’s endless chatter. Another day, he would consider replacing the fool, but not today, not when Kore needed his attention. He walked faster at the opposite side of the great hall, forcing the chamberlain to run just to keep up with the god’s pace.
Another servant pushed the door to his apartment open upon his arrival. He set his sister’s daughter down next to a chair and helped her to sit down. He took his first good look at Kore. For a goddess who spent much time under the light of Helios, she looked awfully pale, and the lien dress she wore was a rag compared to the clothing her mother gave her. A red spot half way down her dress caught his eye.
For a moment, he felt his heart stop at the sight. What injuries had she sustained along the way down to the Underworld? Or had something worse happened to her? He pulled up a corner of her dress and saw that he leg was caked in dry blood.
“Where is the damn healer?” Hades shouted.
Kore jumped at his words but still said nothing. Footsteps slamming against the stone outside his door gave the god his answer. The healer did not wait to be invited inside. Behind him came a woman who carried their bag of healing supplies. The moment they reached Kore’s side, the goddess bega
n to push them away, screaming.
“You’re hurt, child,” the healer tried to tell her. “We’re only here to tend to your injuries.”
She continued to fight back until the healers stepped away. The two mortal souls turned to Hades, their eyes wide with disbelief. No one had refused their services before. Hades sighed and approached the goddess.
“Kore,” he said, “these souls are my private healers. They won’t hurt you.”
The goddess blinked and looked him straight in the eye. “I want Apollo to tend to me and no one else.”
Hades bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to hers once again. “Apollo is performing the duties of Helios and cannot come. I fear you might be too injured to make the journey to Olympus. Please, let my healers tend to you. I will stay by your side while they see to your injuries.”
He watched her lip trembled and tears build up in her eyes, only to descend down the sides of her face. The goddess covered her face with her hands; she softly whimpered for several moments then nodded. The god turned back to the healers and tilted his head forward. The healers started with her head and moved efficiently down her body. The woman healer gasped when they reached her legs. She whispered something Hades could not make out, but when they were down, they asked to speak with Hades privately.
“She has given birth very recently,” the woman said.
Hades cursed under his breath and listened to the healers pronounce that she needed a bath and rest. The god commanded them to see to her heeds and marched out of the apartment door. His chamberlain ran beside him, chattering away. Curse the fool, Hades thought as he sprinted out of the palace to the stables where he commanded his horse master to saddle Alastor. The god mounted the stallion as the soul fastened the last strap and commanded the beast forward. The stallion ran across the courtyard and into Asphodel.
Twisted Mythology: Three Tales of Greek Mythology Page 4