Seeds: Volume Two (4 page)

     “This must be our new queen,” Kampe stated, her gaze moving to Hades's companion.

     “Indeed. This is Persephone. Persephone, this is Kampe, keeper of the keys to Tartarus and warden to all condemned souls.”

     Kampe's gaze was penetrating, and the red-haired goddess lifted her chin, gazing back, trying to not make it too obvious that she was studying the serpentine deity, having never seen such a creature like this. She had imagined Kampe to have human form like all the other chthonic deities she had met thus far. Hekate had never said anything about this! The two held one another in silent regard as Hades smiled faintly with amusement. Finally, the serpentine goddess gave out a grunt before she nodded.

     “One who can look upon me without flinching is worthy.”

     Persephone didn't want to admit that she
had
been intimidated. She just wasn't showing it because she didn't want to seem weak.

     “I am not a condemned soul. I should not be afraid of you, right?” she asked. She saw the barest of smiles tug at the demoness' lips. Kampe caught herself and gave out a nonchalant grunt, and Persephone recalled Hekate's words about the guardian of Tartarus being rough around the edges. That was something she could deal with. Not everyone was going to be as friendly and open as Hekate, right? She would maintain herself with dignity as Queen of the Underworld. Even if it was a role she didn't want, she was determined to do her best. She would not sulk or throw tantrums or be rude to others, and it was much more interesting to go out and explore, anyway.

     “A fine bride you have chosen,” Kampe hissed to Hades. He smiled, pleased with her approval. As the demoness turned away to lead them deeper into Tartarus, Persephone felt him squeeze her hand.

     “Kampe does not take to many people,” Hades whispered. She smiled.

     “I suppose spending all day around screaming and tortured souls does that.”

     Hades chuckled softly and shook his head.

     “Where are we going?” she asked.

     “Tartarus is a big place. It would be impossible to see all of it within a day. But we could show you a few things, and Kampe can answer your questions.”

     The gates leading off the firepit area looked the same, and Kampe chose the center one to lead them through. Persephone let her eyes wander along Kampe's tail as it slithered along the ground. Even with the redness of the sky and the light from fires, Persephone could tell that Kampe's scales were of varying shades of copper, which reflected the fires of Hell beautifully and adding to her appearance. She could easily imagine the impression that the guardian of Tartarus made on her prisoners.

o0o

     Because of the sights in Tartarus, Hades had been reluctant to take her here, but she seemed so calm as she asked Kampe questions or was shown several condemned souls being subjected to various punishments. Her eyes might widen, and she would wrinkle her nose a bit at the gore of several displays, but she did not flinch or turn away.

     Tartarus was divided into various regions, each of them suited for the punishment of a certain sin. Kampe referred to them as 'levels' and 'circles'. She listened attentively as the Warden explained what they had done in their mortal lives, and why they were punished that way. Persephone didn't seem at all put off by Kampe's brusque manner of speaking.

     “So far I have seen mortals being punished for their wicked deeds. But...” She frowned thoughtfully, “I thought that the Titans who went against Zeus were also held here.”

     “Indeed,” Kampe replied, “But for practical reasons, they are kept apart from mortal souls in a level all their own.”

     “What about Prometheus?” the younger goddess asked. “I heard that he was punished for bringing fire to humans.”

     “That is another example of where the myth differs from fact,” Hades explained, “It was not Zeus who punished him. This was the time of the Titanomachy. They were not like the Olympians, as you well know. Kronos and his Titans were tyrants who enjoyed exercising their power over the mortals, simply because they could. Back then, the Titans guarded the secret of fire. If the mortals wanted fire, they had to petition Kronos and his brethren and give them many offerings.”

     “...and Prometheus showed the mortals how to make fire on their own, which meant no more obeisance to Kronos, at least for this particular commodity?” Persephone deduced. Fire was precious. It was difficult to start, but with enough efforts and the right ingredients, just about anybody could spark a fire, especially if they had a good flint. The general practice in Enna at nights was to bank the fire to ensure that there would be embers in the morning to refresh the fire or create new ones. Nonetheless, Iasion had taught her how to spark a fire on her own with not just a flint, but also with the older and more time-consuming process of rubbing wood, saying that such knowledge was valuable.

     “Indeed. They chained him to an open spot on Olympus so that the eagles could feed from him day after day. Since he was a Titan, he could not die, and so his flesh regenerated every night.”

     Persephone swallowed thickly as she imagined herself in that position. That poor man!

     “He is not among those down here,” Kampe hissed with what appeared to be a small smile on her reptilian face.

     “I would hope not.” Persephone quipped.

     “Zeus broke his chains and freed him. However, he is not one of those who wish to be recognized. He lives somewhere among the mortals, and has been lost to us for many years. But his legacy remains, though the tales that the mortals tell of him are now mangled.” Hades shook his head.

     Persephone nodded in rapt interest, absorbing everything that Hades or Kampe told her.

     “If some of these tales are wrong, then why not set them right? Why not tell the mortals what really happened to Prometheus? The mortals think he is still being punished for teaching them the secret of fire.” If Mother knew the truth of these tales, why didn't she share them with her daughter?

     “It is the nature of humans to embellish the myths to make them more interesting. Just you wait,” Kampe said, wagging her finger in the manner that a stern grandmother might, “In a thousand years, the tales you know today, and the tales that will be created will change again. Humans have the tendency to change history to suit their own purposes.”

     “That seems rather... deceitful.”

     “Sometimes, yes. There are those who deliberately change the stories, especially to benefit themselves. But at other times, such as with old stories, they change in subtle ways, without any deliberate twisting around.”

     Persephone nodded before glancing at Hades. “Thank goodness for your library, then!”

     “Indeed.” He grinned down at her, and Kampe noted the glint of affection and appreciation in his eyes. This young goddess was indeed special if she could draw out such a reaction from the taciturn Lord of the Dead.

     “Who is that?” Persephone asked as she pointed just past Kampe's arm, seeing a steep and jagged hill in the distance surrounded by a moat of fire-water. The silhouette of a man was illuminated against the vermilion-hued sky, and she could make out his struggle against a large boulder that was nearly at the top of the hill.

     “That is Sisyphus, now a prisoner of his own avarice and prideful cleverness.” Kampe replied.

     “Will you tell me about him?”

     “Certainly. In life he was a proud king who founded the city that mortals now known as Corinth. He was the son of a king of Thessaly, but was so prideful that he wanted a kingdom of his own. He was a clever man and managed to accomplish it, but he was so arrogant as to consider himself above the law of mortals. The fool did not bother to consider that even he was subject to the laws of Death.” Her hiss was one of clear disdain. “He lured travelers and visitors deep within his Palace and killed them.”

     Persephone gasped softly. “Why?”

     “Pride. He thought himself above the laws of hospitality. He cleverly hid the bodies and even fed their meat to his guests, saving his own animals for himself. He wove a web of lies, and tried to deceive even the gods themselves. But his own cleverness was his undoing. And even in death he refused to face the truth.”

     “And the punishment?”

     “He accomplished much in life. Despite his faults, he
was
an intelligent man.” Kampe's lips twisted into a fanged smile, “Down here, his skilled mind serves no purpose. See the boulder? His task is to push the boulder up the hill. If he stops, the shades are there to poke and whip him along. And when it nears the top of the hill, it rolls down. And he must start all over, for eternity.”

     Persephone smirked. She could easily imagine how menial and mind-numbing such a task was, especially to an intelligent person. To have to repeat it over and over and
over
, with no results or success...

     “Did you think of that punishment?” Persephone asked. Kampe nodded.

     “How fitting that Sisyphus had his punishment decided by someone more clever than he.” She wasn't trying to flatter Kampe – it was clear that the guardian of Tartarus cared little for honeyed words – but she could see that her comment pleased the serpentine deity immensely.

     “Are there any other prisoners you would like to show me?” Persephone asked, making it clear that she trusted Kampe's decision.

     “Yes. Follow me.” As she slithered off, Hades shot another grin at his young bride. She smiled back and took his proffered hand.

     “You look like you are enjoying yourself,” he whispered.

     “Yes. Immensely so.”

     “Tartarus is not a place for enjoyment,” he shot back lightly.

     “I do not enjoy this in the same way that... I enjoy the gardens. It is just... I find this place interesting and educational. Kind of like your library.”

     “I was afraid that this place would be too frightening for you,” he admitted.

     “Yes. I did not like seeing the gore. But I appreciate you being honest with me and not hiding anything from me.”

     Hades was tempted to remind her of the fact that she still refused to eat his food, but didn't want to spoil a pleasant moment.

     They came to a pond, its waters dark and clear. At the edge stood a large tree bearing several varieties of fruit, most of its branches hanging over the pond. Several shades hovered around the edge of the pond, and it became apparent why. There was a naked man in the water, the pond level with his waist. Near the pond, the air felt rather hot and oppressive, even worse than the hottest summer day on the surface world.

     “This man was once a great king. Zeus sometimes invites kings to Olympus to share his Council with them, to impress them and learn from them.” Kampe said, gesturing towards the man.

     “He must have angered Zeus...”

     “The fact that he had been invited to Olympus filled him with arrogance. He stole ambrosia, using it to extend his own lifespan. That in itself might have been forgiven in due time. But when Zeus invited him back, he had already become so arrogant, falling to the same faults as Sisyphus. He murdered his own little son and brought the meat to the table of the gods, disguising it as animal meat, having his cooks prepare it with spices. He presented the remains of his son to Zeus.”

     Persephone knew that mortals could be capable of wicked deeds. Murder, thievery, rape, but she had never imagined this kind of depravity!

     “The meat was cleverly prepared, but Zeus still saw it for what it was. He was so disgusted and outraged that he threw a thunderbolt at Tantalus and killed him on the spot.”

     “And what is this punishment?”

     “He was a king who enjoyed the finest things in life, and demanded every comfort, however trivial, at the cost of others. Here the air is always searing and the water icy, and he longs for the most basic comforts. He is always hot, hungry, thirsty, cold, bored, and lonely. He cannot leave the pond, but he may lie down in the shallows. But the rocks are hard and sharp, so whether standing, sitting, or lying down, he is ever uncomfortable.”

     As Kampe spoke, Persephone saw Tantalus reach for the fruit above him, jumping out of the water to do so. But the branches lifted the tantalizing food out of his reach. The sand surrounding the pond was soft and fine, which would be welcome to sleep on even if one hadn't been spending centuries on sharp rocks. The dark-haired man lowered himself in the water until it ended at his underarms. However, when he tried to lower his arms – whether to cup his hands or simply splash the water – the level receded, staying out of reach of his hands. He could not splash his face, much less try to drink from the water! The shades were there to make sure he did not leave the pond, and since they did not speak, Tantalus had nobody to talk to, but she was certain he screamed and pleaded with them. How ingenious.

     At one side of the pond was a thick forest of black trees, and at the other side of the forest was a large stone tub with a decently sized pile of brass urns near it. However, there was nobody in sight, and Persephone tilted her head, stopping. She wanted to know about this before she went on. At the other side of the clearing was river. Its size alerted her to the fact that this might be one of the important rivers of the Underworld. Thus far she had only seen two, the Styx and Phlegethon. She knew there was still the Lethe, Acheron, and Cocytus rivers to see.