Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow Read online

  “A comfortable bed, is it not?” He ran his hand over the green stone and a wicked smile crossed his face, “Emerald encourages romantic bliss.” He gave a small sigh as he looked at her huddled in the corner. “This is your room my Queen. Mine is across the hall."

  Relief washed over her. “You...you do not want a wedding night?”

  Embers burned in his black eyes, “I do.” His gaze swept over her body with frankly sexual appraisal and she stiffened, pulling his cape tighter around her, preparing to do whatever necessary to keep him from touching her. She shivered, her dress cold from the blood that had stained it. “I forced you onto my horse and into the Underworld, I forced you to stand and drink from the wedding cup, and to put the ring on your finger and say yes at the ceremony.” He stood from the bed and approached her lazily, reaching one hand to play with a lock of her hair that curled against her neck. He watched her expression carefully. His other hand moved to the strap of her dress which had slipped off her pale, sloping shoulder. He felt her gasp as he took the strap in his hand, fondling it. “And you are a beautiful Queen, any man would want you.” He took the strap and snapped it back onto her shoulder. “But I think I have forced you enough for one day, my unwilling bride. “Besides,” he said turning away from her, “I throw men into Tartarus for what you suspect I would do next.”

  Oh what a wicked man he was, she thought. As she stared at his broad back she felt her impotence and how much she hated him!

  “Let me go home then,” she said in a low voice.

  He looked at his bride who was the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. The wild dark hair framing her face like a halo. Her delicate hands clung tightly to his cape as she pulled it closely around her body, framing her delicious curves. She would not cling so tightly if she knew, he thought with a smile. And her eyes, green as only springtime could be, stared into his, as though she was trying to appeal to his very soul. Foolish girl, she did not know that there was nothing left of his soul. He could see her dress from that day under the cape. The simple toga she’d worn in the fields would forever be imprinted in his mind, her wedding dress, a reminder of the cursed day she forever became tied to him. The dress was stained copper with blood, his blood and the blood of others. Stained like his soul.

  He breathed deeply trying to calm his rapidly beating heart and inhaled her scent. She smelt like flowers and sunshine, like freshness and hope, and it was intoxicating to him. He was drawn to her as surely as a flower wept for the warmth of the sun, and he felt desire fill his body. He turned away quickly and closed his eyes for a moment; she would never be allowed to go home. Never be free in her forest. This was his gift to this precious creature, that she was doomed to spend eternity in Hell.

  With his back to her he replied, “What poor choices you were given, little one. A God who sends men to their grave, or the God of Death himself.” He turned to face her, the bed between them. "Goodnight, my beautiful wife. Try to sleep. Stay in your room tonight. I mean it, Persephone.” She blinked at his words, which ironically echoed her mother’s from this very morning. “There is no reason we must see each other more than we have to, and if you abide by my rules you will have a comfortable life. It would not do to wander far in the land of the dead. For your own sake, do not defy me.” With a bow, he swept from the room and she was left alone.

  Chapter 3 - Lifeless Kingdom

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  Persephone stood against the wall and was unsure how much time passed. She stood until her legs felt numb, until the screams in her head softened and the silence became a roar in her ears. A large fireplace was the only source of light and she moved toward it like a blind woman. She felt the rock beneath her feet. It was hard and cold. Everything was cold. Hard, cold and unforgiving like the man she had been forced to wed.

  Removing the satin bedspread, she laid it in front of the fire to get warm. Tears were welling up in her eyes. "Gaia...Mother...someone... help me. Please hear my prayers." Her body crumbled on the ground as she sobbed at her fate.

  Hades stood in his room, his hand outstretched onto the fireplace mantel, the flames blue and high, throwing shades of light against the dark walls. The shadows embraced him lovingly and seemed to seep inside of him and he welcomed the coldness it offered. He had long ago accepted that he was a creature of darkness, never meant to touch the light. Whatever good had been inside of him was long gone, squashed out so casually by those who had once held power over him. And what was Persephone if not the light of the Earth.

  By the Gods he should never have even looked upon her. She awakened something dangerous in him, something he had long ago suppressed. The flames danced in his eyes as he clenched his fists, breaking off a piece of the marble. He let the dust fall to the ground from his hand and stepped further into his room, opening his robes to inspect the wound in his chest. It was still raw and bleeding and with every pump of his heart,more fresh blood dripped down his chest. Walking out to the balcony he looked into the swirling waters of the river Styx below, and exhaled deeply.

  The wind rippled off the dark water and he knew a storm was approaching. Persephone would be alone during the squall which often turned violent deep within the vault of the Underworld. Damnation, it was not the way he wished to welcome her into his domain! He took a step back towards the doors, towards his wife, and then shook his head as he glanced at his hands fresh with blood. No wonder she was terrified of him. These hands had forced the woman he loved to do so many things against her will today. Hades closed his eyes, remembering her face as she repeated her vows, how she had looked at him. Like he was a monster. But he had no other choice, though that was little comfort to the Goddess. She would never forgive him, and he would always represent the one who had stolen her precious freedom. His hand had been forced, and now she had to stay with him. He went to a table and poured a glass of wine, his hand unsteady as he gripped the bottle. God’s damn, who had done this? Who had dared to shoot an arrow into the chest of the God of the Underworld? He knew there was something more to this game, but he did not know who his opponent was. The fact that Persephone had somehow become part of this vendetta against him made the stakes even higher. He would never let harm come to her.

  Wind rippled across the river as the storm grew in intensity. The sounds of thunder and screams echoed through the caverns as the wails of dying men filled his ears, their very souls being ripped prematurely from their bodies - stuck somewhere between earth and the Underworld.

  As their wails escalated, Hades clenched his fists, "Ares." Setting his glass down, he pulled his robes closed and strode into the throne room.

  Charon the river bearer was waiting for him and whispered in his reedy voice, "I cleared your throne room, my Lord, I thought you would not wish for company tonight. It is a war. The river is flooded with blood and dying men."

  Hades flung himself into his chair as his vision blurred for a moment. He had lost too much blood. He grabbed the side of his throne tightly and looked at Charon with a steady gaze. "It begins. We knew Ares would act. Charon, lead them across the river after they pass. Their souls will be stuck in between for some time. They are being tortured for Ares’ pleasure.”

  Charon bowed his hooded head, always the faithful servant. They both knew what was happening. Ares would not let him have a peaceful wedding night. Like a petulant child mourning the loss of their favorite toy, Ares would not rest until the Underworld wept with blood.

  "Hot-headed ass," Hades muttered, "Sending men to their death and laughing about it. Life is not precious to him. He is just like his father. Tonight, will not be a quiet one. Charon, I leave this to you.”

  He stood and blinked as black dots momentarily blocked his vision. He must rest, the pain in his chest was growing and even now he could feel the hot blood running down his robes. Nodding once more to Charon, he made his way back to his room, and as he passed Persephone’s door, he stopped to lay one hand against the darkened wood. He could hear her muted sobs from the room within.
If only he could comfort her, but no, she would not want that. She would never want that. His beautiful Goddess despised him. He felt her despair as if it were his own, and for a moment the pain was so acute he could not breathe. He had long ago learned to push down the grief of the souls he met on their journey to the Underworld, their suffering, regrets, the sorrow of leaving those they loved behind. Sometimes it seemed he died a small death with each soul he encountered, until there was nothing left of his own, until he was empty inside. He turned away impatiently from the door. It would be a long night for both of them. He smiled ironically as he returned to his room; at least they were united in their misery.

  Demeter sat in her temple, her hair wild and tangled. Her eyes felt swollen and were mere slits in her face. She sat on her daughter’s bed crying, letting her tears soak into the blanket. A tall blonde God entered her temple and she could see by the golden halo above his head who it was. -- Helios, the God of Light. He bowed down to Demeter and placed his hands on her shoulders as he knelt beside her.

  “Demeter,” he whispered softly, stroking her hair away from her face. “I come with news. I watched your daughter be spirited away by ‘The Unseen’.”

  A sob escaped her lips as Demeter turned her face back into the blanket. “She is in that dead kingdom. She must be terrified,” she cried in anguish.

  She glanced at Helios and she saw a frown cross his face. “Demeter, I know your daughter harbors secrets. I have seen all that the light touches. Hades will uncover everything, and he always gets to the truth. It will not be easy for her.”

  Demeter shuddered at his words. She knew the secrets Persephone carried. “What can I do?” she whispered.

  “Two men want your daughter, one is brash and brazen and the other is… insidious. There is darkness in Hades that he will never be able to obliterate.” He paused for a second, “If his love is superficial, he will coerce her. But... If his love is true, he would die for her.”

  Demeter grasped Helios’ arm. “Does he love her Helios? I need to know, does he love her or is it only lust? Is he like all the others?”

  Helios shrugged his bronzed shoulders, “There is no way of knowing what harbors inside his mind. His secrets are his and his alone.”

  “Zeus -- you bastard,” she whispered bitterly, “this is all his fault.” Demeter put her face in her hands and sobbed as tiny flakes of ice fell from the sky.

  Persephone woke by the embers of the burnt-out fire. For a moment she was disoriented, wondering why she was not in her bed at home. She arched her stiff neck and huddled closer in the blanket as shivers wracked her body -- and she remembered. She shuddered as the thoughts invaded her mind, the golden flower, and the gaping Earth, and wretched, wretched Hades! For a blissful moment she had thought everything had been a bad dream, but she felt dragged back into a nightmare when she realized where she was. Was it morning or night? Her room was too dark to tell. She stood and threw his robe to the ground. Damn him and damn his robe. She quickly lifted her hands and weaved herself a shawl of moss, taking a moment to appreciate its dark softness, grateful for the touch of this soft living thing in this dead palace before she slung it over her shoulders. At least the moss did well in the darkness.

  “I am leaving this place,” she whispered to herself. “He cannot hold me here.” She opened the door as slowly as possible and glanced carefully up and down the hall. Glancing down she saw that his blood still stained her hands. She refocused her thoughts, straining her ears for any sound. It was silent. She shuddered as she considered the horrors that could lurk in the darkness here, but every moment counted and so she quietly slipped from the room. She tip-toed down the hallway as quietly as possible, trying to remember the way back to the anteroom where they had recited their vows. Perhaps a trail of Hades blood remained that she could follow, like breadcrumbs. She giggled rather wildly and lifted her hand to cover her mouth as it echoed loudly against the high stone walls. “Oh, do not lose your mind down here, Persephone,” she said sternly to herself. Taking a deep breath, she considered what her mother would advise her to do. Demeter was always calm in the face of adversity. She reasoned that if she could return to the river, she could follow it to the horrible room where she had been forced into a loveless marriage. Once there, she may be able to find the pathway they had originally taken. If she ever saw Hymenaeus again, she would rip every lovely strand of blond hair from his head. She listened carefully for any signs of the river being nearby, but heard nothing except her own heartbeat.

  Wandering through an endless maze of stone halls, she began to feel desperate. The castle was like a labyrinth and she had not heard any signs of Charon’s river, and not even the faintest drop of Hades’ blood remained. Nothing looked

  familiar. In fact, she was quite sure she had never passed this way before. She entered another hall and paused as she stared at a window ahead of her. It was filled with crystallized glass giving off dull shades of red and yellow and something about it caused the fine hairs on her neck to raise. She considered it and blinked as she saw faint shadows moving on the other side. And the strange thing was, as she stood there, she began to imagine she could hear whispers behind the glass, insidious whispers so quiet she could not make out the words but they caused her to shudder in revulsion all the same. Still, the window must lead somewhere, she reasoned. She shook her head, she had no choice. She must try. Going back to that prison of a room was simply not an option. She took a steadying breath and then grabbed the ledge and began pulling herself up.

  A deep voice echoed in the darkness, “How tiresomely predictable,” shocking her so completely that she fell from the ledge. She gave a little scream as she felt rough hands catch her before she hit the ground. She was turned around and suddenly faced with Hades’ dark face close to her own. She looked up into his black gaze. “Leaving so soon? How rude -- and on our wedding night, too. Tsk, tsk what an undutiful wife.”

  “I am not staying here!” she cried, kicking out at him viciously. “You cannot make me. I am going home.” She reached out desperately once again for the ledge and he yanked her leg back.

  “Do not touch that window! I told you not to wander in this darkness. What is beyond that window is certain doom, even to a God. There are things here you do not understand, Persephone.”

  Her emerald eyes glared at him defiantly. “I do not want to understand this place! I want to go home! If you think my mother will allow me to stay down here you are mistaken. She will come for me, wage war against you to get me.”

  Hades put a hand to his throbbing head. Despite his increasing weakness he could not rest, and he had watched her in the darkness, knowing she would not resist the urge to try and escape from him tonight. “How long must I keep hearing that you want to go home. I have explained to you, you cannot leave the Underworld now.”

  Persephone felt her anger flare and she pushed hard on his chest, too incensed to notice as he gave a grunt of pain. He released her suddenly. “My home is not here,” she raged, “ you kidnapped me and put me in that dark cold prison. I am not meant for your world. I will go mad here! Why can you not understand this?”

  His eyes narrowed at her. “I tire of this song and dance. You placed yourself needlessly in danger and ignored my warning. Perhaps,” he said, stepping closer to her, “you would feel warmer in my room.”

  She flung out a hand. “Stay away from me! I do not want to be in your room or anywhere around you.”

  With a smile and an arch of one dark brow he moved closer. “And what will you do to stop me, my gentle Goddess.”

  She hesitated and then whisked her hands quickly causing thick, green vines to burst from the ground and wrap around his legs, tightening as they wound up his body.

  Hades laughed, and with a touch of his hand the plants withered and died. Persephone gasped. “You think living things can hold me down? Do you not know who I am? What I do? I am the God of Death.”

  They faced each other like adversaries on Ares’ battlefield,
her with a rage that caused her hair to crackle and he with a cold, calculating resolve, arms crossed over his powerful chest. She suddenly sprang from the window and began running. He paused to admire her form for a moment as she flew over the rocky terrain like a deer, her skirts flying behind her like the wings of an angel. She was magnificent, he thought with a smile, uncrossing his arms.

  She felt a thrill of victory, she knew she was fast, no nymph could outrun her, and she heard no noise behind her. Perhaps she had a large enough of a lead that she could reach the gates before him, perhaps he was bleeding so much he could not give chase. Perhaps he would die. No, not that her mind countered swiftly, she did not want him to die. But she hoped that he was too weak to catch her. She shrieked when a hand grabbed her suddenly by the shoulder, and they tumbled to the ground. Hades’ large body covered her own, breathing easily while she panted up at him. He pressed a large thigh between her own.

  “It seems I will lay with you tonight after all, wife,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Get away from me,” she spat. “If you touch me, I will claw your eyes out!”

  Hades pinned her more tightly to the ground. He said with a scowl, “You do not seem to grasp the situation. Your free will is gone -- as is mine. If you leave me, it is certain madness for both of us. Save your wrath for the person who cursed us both with that damned, forsaken, golden arrow! Because of that arrow, I will go insane if you are not near me.”

  “You are already insane!” she roared into his face. Charming, he thought, as he watched her nostrils flare and her sweet lip curl with anger. She looked as ferocious as a baby fox with her dark hair spilling behind her.