Seeds: Volume Two (22 page)

     “Why is she there? In that horrible place? Why would you put her there?”

     “I... I did not put her there, I swear. It was Hades.”

     “... Hades?” Disbelief flashed across her face as she tried to comprehend the situation. Hades had taken Kora to the Underworld, and for whatever reason, Zeus had been privy to it. What was going on?

     “He wanted a bride.”

     Disbelief was quickly replaced by a fresh surge of fury, and Zeus yelled as his head was roughly yanked in several directions.

     “I want her back! Right now!”

     “He asked for my blessing, I gave it. Demeter, please be reasonable...”

     “You gave away my daughter!” Her cheeks bore their indignant flush even more than before, unsightly red blotches flaring on her cheeks.

     “Gave... no, no,
no!
” Zeus raised his hands, “None of this was my idea! Hades demanded her. He told me he wanted her. And only her. What could I do?”

     “Say no,” came the deadpan reply.

     “To Hades?” Zeus asked incredulously.

     “Yes!” Demeter snapped, barely biting back her anger. Was her brother
really
this dense?

     “If it were any other god, I would have said no. But Hades...” He shook his head, “He is different. His realm has changed him, you know that. Him coming to me? It was a mere formality. He would have taken Kora with or without my blessing. He did not even have to come to me.” Zeus sighed heavily and stared up at her pleadingly.

     “You knew of this all along. It did not occur to you to maybe...
just maybe
, you know, warn me after Hades left Olympus? Did you expect me to not notice that Kora was missing!”

     “It is not my fault that Hades chose to not notify you of his... decision.”

     “That is all you can say?” Demeter growled. Zeus was considered the mightiest of gods, but as those closest to him knew, he could be quite a coward at rare moments. Said god looked down, his expression downcast, knowing full well that his excuse was a weak one at best.

     “Get off that stupid ass of yours and order Hades to release Kora!”

     “Demeter, please calm down. Hades is not a cruel god, and he assured me that she would be taken care of. Certainly he is a better choice of a groom than Ares. Think about it, she's the Queen of the Underworld! Not bad for our daughter, eh?”

     “You spineless-”

     “You know Hades as well as I do. Do you honestly think that he would abuse Kora?”

     “He kidnapped her!”

     “Yes, yes. But be reasonable, you refused to admit any man to your sacred valley. Hades did not have the choice to court her properly. Calm down, and I am sure Hades will speak to you.”

     “Calm? Don't you
dare
tell me to calm down. You and Poseidon and Hades, you gods, you are all the same! Have women come to mean so little to you? You would not let me turn away your advances so you had to resort to trickery, you are ever unfaithful to your loyal wife, you let your brother take your daughter and leave me in the dark about this! What the hell is wrong with you? What have I done to deserve being treated as such?”

     “It had nothing to do with you. I did not seduce you to hurt you. And I would not have given my blessing if I did not think that Hades would mistreat Kora,” Zeus replied, trying to placate Demeter as he saw a vein throb on his sister's temple.

     “WHY!” she screamed, and he found his hair yanked in such a way that had he been mortal, his neck would have easily snapped, or even his head ripped from his neck.

     “Please. Let me go. It's... hard to talk. When you are ...AH! Jerking around my head like that.”

     In response, she gave him several especially vicious jerks, ignoring his bellows. Finally, she stopped, and he panted several times before he spoke.

     “I swear, this is nothing against you. I am sure that Hades will bring Kora to Olympus the next time he decides to pay a visit. Soon enough, the mortals will worship our lovely daughter just as they worship us. Demeter, I know you meant best for your daughter,” Zeus stated, regaining some of his confidence and speaking with some of his patent charm as he covered his nakedness with a pillow, “But she is a grown woman now, and Hades is hardly a bad influence on her. She
is
safe, and is that not what you wanted in the first place?”

     “I want her back. Or I will go to Hera and let her know what you have done. The other gods as well. I doubt your other daughters will look upon this favorably.”

     “What can Hera do?” the King of the Gods shrugged, “She has no more power than I do against Hades. And what of my daughters? So I gave my blessing for Kora. What of it? Is it not a father's duty to ensure that his daughters are cared for? I certainly am not the first, nor will I be the last man to give away his daughter!”

     Demeter was tired of Zeus's excuses. She knew that her brother thought she was reacting hysterically. He had ceased to care about the important things in life. He had grown haughty, practically celebrating his own follies, letting his desires dictate his actions. He thrived off the worship of mortals and demanded their admiration, and his sons and brothers were no different. The mighty gods of Olympus had become lost in their own ennui, pursuing pleasure and entertainment in its myriad forms. They would just laugh at her for her righteous indignation over the situation.

     As she glared at Zeus, she realized the perfect way to get her revenge on him for what he had done twenty-six years ago and the fact that with his thoughtless decision, had added egregious insult to injury. Her face went through a startling change, changing from openly livid to cold and calculating, promising something even more terrifying than her immediate wrath.

     “You will rue the day that you started this entire mess. I will show you how to respect women. You will no longer be a beneficiary of my Gifts. Let us see how high and mighty you are, then.”

     With that, she was gone, leaving her brother amidst the mess she had created. Zeus was too stunned to go after her, and desperately hoped that whatever she had planned, he could counter it.

o0o

     As King of the Gods, it was a given that Zeus was worshiped throughout Hellas. Destroyer of Kronos, Lord of the Skies, the God of Thunder, the Patriarch and the Wise Leader. And he was a sucker for worship. His family knew that all too well, and Demeter intended to use that to her fullest advantage.

     Soon enough the mortals would see who held the real power. Demeter was the Giver of Life, and if the Zeus and his brethren did not appreciate it or the vital role that women played in their lives or that they deserved more respect than what was usually given them, well then, why should she share her Gift with them?

     Olympia was the one of the cities that had Zeus as its main patron deity. Worship of Zeus here was far more prevalent than the worship of any other god, who was lucky to get mention in Olympia outside of sharing the myths. It was Zeus's favorite city, but not even the might of the King of the Gods could save his beloved city from Demeter's cold rage.

o0o

     The city was surrounded by farms, ponds, and streams fed by mountain springs, providing ample food and supplies for the needs of the city. Every year, the festivities and ceremonies went in full swing. The gods were celebrated and prayed to, entreated to use their Gifts to benefit mankind, but the name that was uttered or called out most was Zeus.

     After all, he was King of the Gods, Lord of Heaven, Patriarch of the Olympians. More than half of the gods of Olympus were descended from him. Eight of his own children made up the Council of the Twelve. He had a beautiful and wise Queen, and his conquests were legendary. He was strong and handsome. Men hoped to be like him in energy and sexual prowess. The priests of the grand temples of Zeus were chosen for their virility and robustness, and the temple maidens were handpicked by these very same priests for their loveliness. Once in a while, one of these temple maidens would actually find themselves visited by Zeus – a great honor within Olympia if it wasn't always seen as such in other parts of Hellas.

     Skouros had been the head priest of Olympia for nearly two decades. He had been chosen for the position by his predecessor when he was nearly thirty, in the prime of his life. Even now as he neared fifty, he was still a striking figure, fit and broad-shouldered with a full head of dark brown hair and beard that only recently had started to gray, giving him a dignified appearance.

     Like the god he served, he had a large brood, though nowhere near as large as the amount of offspring that Zeus sired. He had been blessed with seven sons and three daughters, and nine of them were alive and healthy. The sole exception had been a toddler son who had wandered too close to a pool and fell in, drowning before his absence was noted. Three of his sons served here in the temple as priests or groundskeepers, and his eldest daughter had been picked as one of the temple maidens to assist in the lavish ceremonies. He had seen poverty before in his life, and knew that he was enormously blessed. Zeus was very generous to those who served him well.

     He enjoyed walks at night-time because it helped him to think, and gave him a much-needed time of solitude after juggling his duties as priest, father, and husband. Though he would never say it out loud – he was careful to not say anything that might offend his patron deity – when he was in the temple on the hill, he felt like Zeus himself looking down Mount Olympus and even Hellas itself.

     Under the light of the waxing moon, he could see the houses below, clean and sun-bleached, clustered closely together around the hills, and more widely spaced as one went on, interspersed by farms, gardens, and orchards. For as long as he remembered, the yearly harvest had always been at least sufficient. Yes, some years were better than others, but this year, the summer harvest had gone on well, and the autumn harvest promised to be especially fruitful. They would have more than enough to last them through spring, and he smiled with satisfaction as he took a deep breath of the fresh night air. He was truly satisfied with his life, and there had been just a few sorrows – like the loss of his son – to make him appreciate his blessings all the more.

     His pace was sedate as his sandaled feet padded along the smooth dirt path, glancing up at the olive trees that lined one side of the well-maintained avenue. Skouros looked forward to olive-harvest time, since he was partial to the fruit, and he reached up to gently grasp a low-hanging branch. Most of the olives were nearly ripe, and he quickly scanned the branch, hoping there would be a few ripe ones. He found one that was close enough and plucked it off the branch before he popped it into his mouth, smacking his lips contentedly despite the slightly unripe flavor, careful to not swallow the pit.

     Mmm! While olives could be preserved for further consumption, there was nothing like a fresh olive to savor. Most people did not like olives right off the tree and preferred to prepare them in a variety of ways; Skouros relished the flavor of them right off the tree, spitting out seeds and enjoying the fruit. Just a few more weeks, and the olives would be ready for everyone to enjoy. He looked forward to having new olives with his meals, and freshly pressed olive oil with his wife's pita bread. His reverie was interrupted as he saw a shadowy figure wandering along the path, approaching him. He frowned to himself; this part of the hill was part of the temple grounds, and only people under its employ were supposed to have access to this area. The stranger was wrapped in a cloak that was black or dark brown; it was hard to discern under this light.

     “Halt!” he said in a firm voice. The stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, but as he squinted, the drape of the cloak revealed generous curves. It was definitely not one of the nymph-like temple maidens, and he wondered who this woman could possibly be. To his relief, the figure paused, but did not speak.

     “Who are you?” he asked.

     “I am merely a visitor. You have no need to worry about assault.” Skouros noted that her tone was deeper than the voices of most women, but it still had a warm, feminine feel to it. “I cannot help but notice how happy this place seems. The fields are so fertile. Have you ever known hunger?”

     Hunger? What did this woman speak of? “Hunger? Certainly, when I am fasting for my rituals, or when I wake up in the morning and have not yet broken the fast with my family.”

     “Not that kind of hunger. True hunger, the emptiness that comes from lack of bounty. When not only is your stomach hollow, but the rest of you.” She sounded as if she spoke from experience.

     “No, never. I am blessed for that.”

     “Blessed?” The woman sounded almost amused. “Truly? Why?”

     “My life has had few difficulties. I have spent most of my life in the service of great Zeus. He has blessed me greatly, and Olympia as well.” Surely this woman would know, if she lived here? Or was she foreign, a visitor from one of the other city-states or any of the villages that dotted Hellas? It might explain why she had traversed into an area reserved for those in Zeus's service. He was a kind man, and quick to forgive. Such a transgression could be overlooked.