The meeting did not go as planned.

The ladies entered. They sat around the room, stood, fidgeted.

Each was unique, beautiful in an individual way. In look and action they differed. Yet they all did one thing in common.

They stared at Demo with undisguised desire, boldly caressing him with ardent gazes.

Demo felt the hair on his neck rise, and a shiver raced down his spine. With an effort he announced, "There is insufficient s.p.a.ce in the throne room for all you fair ladies. So we propose to have a beauty contest, the winner to set beside Zeus and guide him in matters of the heart. Cupid has volunteered to be the judge."

They seemed little interested. Rather, they watched Demo's every move with strangely glistening eyes. At his direction they paraded across the throne room.

Cupid made notes, a.s.signed points for various and sundry qualities, and finally arrived at a conclusion. He brought his notepad to Demo, stood quietly beside the throne, cherubic in appearance. That alone should have forewarned Demo.

It was a tie! All the contestants had attained identical scores!

Demo's eyes opened wide, and he quivered. This was unexpected!

He hesitatingly announced the result, readied himself for the angry outburst he expected.

There were a few yawns. Some of the ladies engaged in quiet gossip. All continued to regard him with interest.

There was no outburst.

"Who cares." A comment came from the back of the room.

"Sit beside Zeus! I'd much rather keep company with a charming boy." The lady stared meaningfully at Demo.

"Hardly!" Another beauty stood up. "He is certainly mine!"

In moments the room was filled with rancorous voices, angry and loud. Turmoil followed, and the crowd quickly moved to the outer court, accompanied by pummeling and hair pulling.

Demo sat wide-eyed, glaring at Cupid.

The boy smiled. "Well, I must practice my archery."

He strolled away, humming softly.

Was that a smirk I noted, Demo thought. I'm sure not. After all, he is only a child.

I think I'll cut his bow string.

A maiden clothed in white gazed with tear-dimmed eye across an endless plane. Sulfurous fumes rose from boiling liquid ponds dotting that dread surface. Manlike creatures, yet men no more, staggered blindly from place to place. In their ceaseless walk they fell hapless into the open pits and screaming in agony clambered out, only to resume their endless wandering.

With a sob the maiden turned to her companion. Hideous though the manlike creatures were, the visage of her comrade was more hideous still. A body twisted, scaly, not of this world, well-suited to this dark and gloomy clime, supported the grotesque head.

"Have you no pity? Is there nothing to be done for these, the suffering?"

A voice between whine and growl responded. "They chose, while on the earth, their own brand of eternity. I am but the keeper.

Yet, for the kindness of your soul, shall their pain be eased for a brief moment. I shall give them sleep. I can do no more."

"And for me? I who would choose another world, I who have not yet pa.s.sed through death's portal - what have you to offer me?"

"I offered you a goblet from the River Lethe. That would have soothed your tears, and washed away all memory of yesterday, and of all yesterdays. Sadly, you would not drink. Perhaps it is better." He spoke musingly, as though unsure.

"You know full well that you are to abide with me until once more the sun pa.s.s through one half his journey. Then may you return to your mother's lodging, to green gra.s.s and gardens, for a time. Were it within my power the confines of Hades would be such a garden, that here you might too find beauty. It cannot be!"

The creatures of the nether region lay quiet now, a short respite from their eternal pain. Tears welled from the eyes of Persephone. Where they fell bloomed sweet violets, even bloomed in Hades.

But too quickly they wilted and died.

11. The Sound of Regulus

"My dear boy, how are you? This weather! I must apologize. I've been despondent, down in the dumps. I'll try to cheer up, really I will. Tomorrow you shall have sunshine." And in fact Zeus did indeed sound cheerful.

"Your poor dear Mother! I know she washed today, and then to have that awful deluge! Well, well, I shall have to make amends.

Ah, she does cook such delicious berry pie! Ummm! Ah, I have it!

You will soon notice, on the hillside to the south - I'll arrange to have the most scrumptious berries grow. Tell her to pick from that patch. Ah, those pies!" He paused, leaned back on the throne, eyes closed. The smile reflected that even the memory of the pies was appealing.

"But I mustn't waste your time. My snake charmer, poor soul, has lost his snake. Not literally. It has just grown old (Cronus, you know) and can't hear his flute to well. So he needs a snake. And he won't settle for just any type of snake. No, he tells me the regulus is the only one that will do. Would you be so kind as to dash off to the Cush and pick up one for him. The northwest corner, I believe. No, sorry, that's the northeast corner. I think. Oh, never mind, you'll find it all right. It's called the Nubian Desert. And do hurry back. He'll be so very pleased. Yes, he will. And so will I." Zeus smiled benevolently, and Demo knew it was time to go.

It was.

With a final word, "What you don't hear can't hurt you," Zeus waved good-bye and Demo found himself partially immersed in a sand dune. Slowly, cautiously Demo worked his way out of the dune, slid down the side. Overhead the bright sun beamed down as the heat became ever more oppressive.

In the distance he heard a steady beating sound, drumlike yet metallic. It disturbed him. The dull monotonous beat, reminiscent of the clang of shields, spear b.u.t.t struck, announcing doom and death song.

Demo shivered. It did not bode well. Where had Zeus placed him, and where would he find the regulus? And the last words from Zeus, what did they portend. "What you don't hear cannot harm you." Strange words indeed.

But he heard well, and what he heard was that steady beat, and suddenly the sound of footstep in the sand. He turned to greet in friendly manner the native of this strange land.

Striding toward him, tall and imperious, spear in hand, a dark yet ghostly white sinister figure!

"Are you of Cush, or are you from the Northland?" The voice was emotionless, but the spear point bore upon his chest, a handsbreath away.

"Neither. At least, I think neither. I am Demo, and I am here on a mission for Zeus. I know nothing of Cush, nor of the Northland. I am here to find the regulus, to take with me to Zeus. I mean you no harm, and implore your aid."

The stranger listened stoically to his plea. He silently marched in a wide circle around Demo, always at spear length.

Seeing no weapons he sat down at the edge of the sand dune.

"Zeus? Is that the name of the pharaoh? Are you an emissary of this pharaoh, Zeus?"

"Of Zeus, yes. But he is no pharaoh. He is, well, he is Zeus.

And I'm here to perform this little ch.o.r.e for him."

"Strange, you don't resemble us. Neither the Nuba nor the Mirikan. Nor the people of the Northland. Very well, I'll take you to Jebel Bakhal. There your fate will be decided." He rose slowly.

"Come, perhaps your blood shall stain the sands of Cush. Others shall decide. That way!" The tall stranger pointed with the spear, waited for Demo to move out. As Demo hesitated the spear point was thrust forward, stopped a finger's width from his skin.