"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 butt 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 chore 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.
Demo nodded, moved quickly in the indicated direction.
So this is Cush, he thought. And somewhere in Cush I'll find
the Regulus. Or will it find me? Ah, the sun is blazing. Would I
were swimming in the streams of home!
Heat, dreadful heat!
Heat, humidity, and air that pressed upon the chest - how shall
I escape?
Here, prisoner of love though she were, she knew only
suffering. She glanced at the creature by her side. Pluto gazed
out upon his kingdom deep in thought.
The moans of unremitting misery rose from countless throats, at
times drowned by the screams of horror, the imprecations against
Pluto and all his minions. Persephone cowered at the sounds,
pressed palms to her ears, to no avail.
Pluto sighed, rose slowly. Sad-eyed he gazed upon the woman
child by his side. Why had he brought her here? Though his, she
would never be his. Though loved, she would never love. What a
fool, to have stolen her from Ceres! And yet, he would not exist
without her.
God, ruler of the nether world. Then why the sadness, why the
remorse?
Pluto sighed.
Dunes gave way to wasteland, sand strewn with stones. And this
in time to regions where grew sparse vegetation, small trees.
Soon copses of thorn trees rose. And beyond, shimmering as an
illusion, dark hills faintly seen.
Though his companion strode seemingly without effort through
sand and stone Demo grew ever more weary. And even as the sun
neared the horizon and a light breeze tokened cooler air he
paused, exhausted.
His companion eyed him suspiciously, once more walked in a wide
circle around him. "Uhmm, sit. The river is beyond. We shall
sleep here this night. And tomorrow we shall know your fate.
Here."
He was offered dried food, a mixture of fruit and nut and meat.
There was little taste, but at least sustenance. "I need water,"
he breathed.
"No. Tomorrow there shall be water. Here there is none. Sleep
now. When the moon rises we shall move on. Over there." He
motioned toward a slight rise between dark boulders and above
one of the scattered termite hills.
Demo lay down, shivering in the air, rapidly cooling with the
setting sun. The sandy earth, still warm from the sun's rays,
was welcome. And he fell rapidly into a strange sleep broken by
even stranger dreams.
A dream in which a giant with a spear stood over him, spear
raised. And a bright glow enveloped the giant's head, gleaming
white.
Suddenly he sat up.
It was no dream.
The point of the spear touched his stomach and he slid hastily
away. His companion stood at his feet, and the full moon gleamed
brightly behind his head. "Quickly, we will be in Jebel Barkal
by daylight. Quickly."
"Ah, Regulus!" They looked, one to the other. "The Master of
the Cobras! The Guardian of the Desert!"
These were the priests, the wise men. Each wore the mystic
crown, the sun disk with the protecting uraei, the twin cobras,
sacred to Amun. All of gold, even the band of the crown. Clothed
in gowns of white, trimmed with gold. The chief priest held a
golden rod, nearly equal in height to himself.
The pillars supporting the roof were gold, and at the peak of
each pillar the ram's head, above which was the sun disk, and a
single cobra seeming to view with disdain those before him.
"Tell us of this Zeus. What has he to do with Regulus? Why
would Regulus deign to visit this one in his far off kingdom?
What manner of Pharaoh is this Zeus?"
"Zeus? Zeus is the Father of the Universe. All that is, is,
because Zeus so wills. You and I and Regulus and . . . and
everything. We are but the product of Zeus' power."
Ezah raise his spear, a look of shock on his face.
"Wait, wait! Do you speak of Amun? Is this Zeus but a different
face of Amun? There is no Zeus here. And all that you say, that
is the work of Amun. We know not this Zeus."
"Yes, it may be. In my land the supreme being is called Zeus.
In your land the name may well be Amun. And he has sent me."
They whispered, looked at him askance, whispered again.
"You are but a stripling. Ezah could dispose of you with one
blow. He could pierce you with his spear, and you would be no
more. What kind of emissary is this for a God to send our
temple, this temple dedicated to Amun?"
"I, well, I have chores to perform. And this was laid on me as
one of those chores. I have no special magic, no special skills
- I am merely the chosen one."
"The Chosen One!"
They all stood, and the high priest, wide-eyed, bowed.
"Amun has sent you, then. And the will of Amun must be obeyed!
Tomorrow you shall be led to the Nubian Desert, to the abode of
Regulus. And there we will leave you. For none returns who
enters the lair of Regulus."
Sleep was fitful, with dreams that began and ended with a
strange serpent eyeing him malevolently. And a hiss that made
his blood run cold. He woke often, fell once more to sleep. The
moon shone, cold and bright. A slight breeze blew, at times
gusting to drive grains of sand across his face, into his
nostrils. At times he sensed a musty smell, strange and
frightening. The odor of Regulus. He was sure of it, though he
knew not why.
Morning came cold with the desert night. But quickly the sun
warmed the land an air, and day creatures awoke. Ezah stood
silently by his side. They ate, drank a tea sweet with the taste
of a strange honey, and Ezah rose. "I brought you here, and I
have been chosen to lead you to your destruction. North and East
toward the sea. But long before we reach that sea you shall
enter the Nubian Desert. There I turn back. And you, Amun
willing, you shall meet Regulus. And may Amun protect you, for
none other can!"
The earth changed from hard surface coated with sand to sand
alone. With each step Demo sank ever deeper into the entrapping
grains. As he struggled to keep up with Ezah the sweat dripped
in a steady stream from his brow, into his eyes, at times
blinding him. He could taste the salt, mingled with the desert
dust. Each breath drew in dry dust, clogging his nostrils,
coating his throat.
Suddenly Ezah raised his spear high, stopped short of a ridge.
"I have gone far beyond the borders, far beyond my realm. But I
can go no farther. Yonder ridge marks the bounds of his lair. I
know not how he looks, nor how he attacks his prey. I am told on
the far side of the ridge lies but a graveyard, dotted with the
remains of those who dared approach Regulus. I have but one
weapon, this spear. Take it, and may it render you good service.
Before you go pray to Amun, or to your Zeus. Now I must leave
you."
Demo accepted the long spear and watched in dismal mood as Ezah
turned and quickly disappeared in the direction from which they
had come. Reluctantly Demo move toward the ridge, using the
spear as a cane to aid his passage.
As he reached the peak his foot slipped. He fell forward in
the sand. He rolled headlong over the ridge, and downward.
Rolled into the lair of Regulus. Stopped finally. Buried in a
dune of sand. Sand clogged his nostrils, forced its way between
his lips, packed even his ears.
He tried to stand, to break out from the smothering blanket. He
moved his arms and legs as though swimming. He was blind, knew
neither up nor down. His heart pounded as he held his breath,
for fear of breathing in only the deadly grains.
He felt the spear's shaft, held it tight, moved it from side to
side. And suddenly through slitted eyes he noted light.
For a moment he lay still, then gradually worked his way
upward, upward to the light.
Hours passed. Or days. He had no sense of time, only of
desperation. And finally he emerged from the imprisoning grains.
He forced the grit from his mouth, his nostrils. Rubbing
carefully he cleared his eyelids, blinked slowly to regain once
more his sight. His heard a continuous roar and he looked around
to find the source. Then he realized it came from within him. He
could hear no external sound! Both ears were plugged with grit,
with desert silt and sand!
He found that, ears plugged, his sense of balance was lacking.
With each step he wobbled from side to side, both from lack of
balance and from the loose particles beneath his feet.
He could see now, though dimly. His eyes burned and teared. If
he only had water to wash his eyes.
And his mouth! Dry, filled with the taste of earth and silt and
minute particles of rock. And the rising wind was driving even
more grit into his face, into his lungs. He turned his back to
the wind, gazed at the bleak landscape of Regulus' Lair.
For the most part there was nought to see but bare desert
waste. And yet, dotted here and yon, remains of those who had
gone before. A skull, whitened by the windblown grit. The rib
cage, each bone in place, lying half buried at the base of a
dune. And the horizon darkening as the wind's intensity mounted.
Though he could hear nothing the felt the driven grains
striking even through his clothes. And dust devils rose from the
desert floor, danced their dance, and faded in the distance. The
sun was blotted out as the gusting wind lifted silt and sand and
dust into the sky.
He lay down, desolate and knowing not which way to turn. But
even as he lay on the desert floor the sand began to blanket
him. With an effort he stood erect.
How could he find Regulus? Indeed, with the blowing wind, the
shifting dunes, and the desert heat how could he do anything.
Zeus, he though, I have failed you. I'll see home no more.
Amun the powerful ruled those desert wastes. Amun the merciless
drove the sand across its surface. But Amun could relent.
Perhaps the pleas of Mut, Goddess Mother, perhaps but a whim,
yet the winds died and dark clouds gathered, poured briefly
their life giving waters on the scene below.
The huge drops fell, pelting the desert floor, drenching Demo
in the deluge of a rare thundershower. And bringing a new and
different danger.
For the rain fell in torrents, and water rushed down gullies,
down ravines, flushing sand and rocks before it. A wall of water
loomed above Demo's head, coming ever closer. He clambered up
the side of a dune, fell. He rolled down, but managed again and
again to regain his footing. Finally he reached the top.
Standing there he gazed at the raging waters in disbelief. They
ate at the dune as though a wild beast. Waves rose an bit away
the sand beneath his feet. The dune shrank, began to merge with
the surrounding water. The rain had ended, but the stream
continued unabated.
And then, as suddenly as it had risen, the stream sank into the
desert leaving but moist pools behind. Demo looked in disbelief
at the sudden calm. Hurriedly he drank muddy water from a pool
at the base of the dune. Even as he drank the thirsty soil
soaked up the water. Small pools disappeared under his gaze, and
larger ones shrank rapidly.
He knew the winds must have hummed, the torrents roared - and
yet he had heard nothing, the silt and grit pounded into his
ears. And he was sure that now there was silence - how much he
wanted but to listen to that silence. He smiled at the idea,
then frowned. How dare I smile at a time like this, he thought
to himself.
Distracted by his thoughts he did not note the ripples on the
largest pool. Ripples which emanated from movement beneath the
surface. Movement that ever became more violent. Nor did he hear
the hiss that bubbled up from the depths. Aroused by the
torrential rains, the rushing waters, the blast of thunder,
Regulus awakened.
"He's seldom gone this long. Demo is such an able hunter. I do
believe if there were but one deer in the forest Demo would find
it. We're never without venison, you know." She was proud of her
son, of his prowess as a hunter.
"But this time the hunt has been long. And I dreamed of Moira
last night." She shuddered. "May I never again have such a
dream!"
"Moira? I don't know Moira."
"No, and be glad you don't! But enough of that. Come, you shall
help me cook the last of our venison. I do hope Demo returns
soon with his kill. He's always so proud, you know. Rough, leave
those chickens alone!"
Hissing and writhing Regulus rose from the pool, slithered out
on the sand. He gazed at Demo balefully. Demo neither saw nor
heard. For him the world was silent.
But then he noticed something. A faint musty odor, and odor
which he remembered from his dreams.
Demo quickly stood up, looked toward the pool of water. And saw
Regulus rising, the brown drops shedding from his slick skin.
Wide-eyed Demo held the spear level, pointed toward the strange
apparition.
Regulus regarded the spear point with concern, hissed mightily.
With consternation he observed Demo, hissed once more.
"Most unusual," he commented, "I must be losing my touch."
He slithered over the sand, undulating from side to side in his
progress. He approached Demo, but kept a distance beyond the
spearlength. With slow sinuous motion he glided around the boy.
"Hisss! Hissssss!" he breathed, watched nonplused at the lack
of response. "You seem not to understand, my boy. Have I failed
in some manner to properly enunciate the sound? Perhaps my lungs
are waterlogged! Know you not that none survive who hear the
hiss of Regulus? How dare you continue to stand there,
impervious. Bad mannered, to say the least."
He grumbled, still continued his slow and torturous
encirclement of his intended prey.
"You must be Regulus," Demo commented, in part to himself. "I
would hope, though my ears are so confoundedly stopped up I
can't hear you, that you can hear me. I'm sent by Zeus to
invite you to come live on Mount Olympus. No nasty sand storms -
and absolutely no floods! Look at you, dripping and with wet
sand sticking to your every scale! You could slither comfortably
through the smooth green grass, dance to the flute, and sip
nectar in sun."
Though Demo was hardly a salesman he was suddenly aided by the
elements. A dark cloud was forming above, accompanied by
thunder, lightning, wind - and sudden rainfall.
Regulus wriggled from side to side, glissaded down one dune, up
another. But there was no place to hide. Grumpily he returned to
a spot before Demo, nodded his head in agreement. Whatever
Olympus had to offer, it would be an improvement.
Hardly had the contract been made than Demo found himself once
more in Zeus' presence, accompanied by the sinuous serpent.
"Well, well, I'm pleased. So this is the Nubian Demon. I beg
your pardon, but it is the reputation you have earned. Regulus,
isn't it? Of course. Ah, you shall like it here. Yes, indeed.
But please stop that infernal hissing. You see, it really
doesn't work up here. Just crawl into that basket over there.
And please, pull the top over you. My, what a surprise you shall
be to my charmer.
"As for you, Demo, once more well done. I'm amazed at your
resourcefulness. But do keep in mind that my little black cloud
was helpful. Good day, my boy."
With a sudden thump Demo found himself once more in his own
front yard. The fall had ended so abruptly the sand-and-silt
plugged ears were cleared, and he could hear once more.
"Demo, I told you to stay out of that tree. My, I hope you
haven't broken anything. Well get up from there and come to eat.
We have such wonderful company. Theresa is staying for supper."
Rough licked his cheek and grinned a dog grin.
Evening came early.
They ate their supper in a strangely quiet mode.
Afterward his mother looked at him for a moment, turned away,
wiped a tear from her eye.
"Mother, are you ill? What is wrong!" Demo rose quickly,
stepped to her side.
"Demo, I have a story to tell you. Sit down, don't interrupt
me."
She sighed, paused as though uncertain how to continue.
"Today an old woman visited our home. A very old woman. Her
name is Ceres. Perhaps you have heard the name."
He shook his head.
"An old woman, but a very good woman. One known to me since
youth. At one time she served as your nursemaid. A good
nursemaid! Would that I had known how good!"
She stood up, paced back and forth in a disturbed manner.
"You were a weak baby, with very little chance for life. I
feared that you would not survive. I prayed to the Gods. And
then she came to me, brought to us by your Father. He had met
her in the forest, where she wept for her lost daughter. She
nurtured you, raised you for me, put strength in your bones and
muscles. Nearly, she gave you gifts no human dare dream of."
This time she sobbed, head bowed.
"But I, foolish woman, feared her ministrations, feared for
you. I ask her to leave my house and I took you away, and action
I shall ever regret."
"Nevertheless, I had promised, that should you survive, she
might one day ask of you a service.
"This day she came, and so asked. I queried of her, what might
that service be, yet she answered not. She said only this, that
should you accomplish the chores of Zeus, one task more must you
perform, and then the debt would be paid."
Demo smiled.
"Mother, if I complete the tasks laid on by Zeus, what matter a
simple task laid on by an old woman. The promise has been made,
the service shall be rendered. In due time she will, I'm sure,
inform me of that which must be done. Do not be concerned."
His mother hugged him close.
During the night he heard her sobs.
He felt for the first time a gloom, a foreboding, that one
insurmountable task lay ahead. He fell to sleep with difficulty,
woke often. And he dreamed.
In the night he dreamed of rushing through the dark forest,
pursued by he knew not what. Knowing that, before the long
night's end, he must turn and face that dread pursuer.