Seeds: Volume Two (29 page)

     “You are certain nobody has seen him in two days?” Metaniera asked, still holding the half-full flask.

     “I asked the other kitchen servants and the guards,” the cook replied.

     “What could have happened to him?” she asked. The old man bit back a frown. He had heard stories of Abas sneaking around and going into the city, but hadn't wanted to be one to spread rumors in the case they might be no more than just that.

     “Only the gods know,” he shrugged.

o0o

     By the time Metaniera returned to her baby's side, Doso was staring into the fire, meditating while she lightly stroked the hair of her infant charge as he slept in her lap, loosely curled up.

     “Did you find the gardener?” the nursemaid asked, not skipping a beat as she continued staring into the flames.

     “Unfortunately, no. Nobody has seen him, and his room is empty.”

     “Whenever I saw him, he always seemed unhappy.”

     “There is nothing I can do about that. His father was a loyal servant and wonderful gardener, and his mother was one of my personal servants when I was young. She always cheered me up with her stories and was a good friend. She died shortly after giving birth to Abas. I have always tried to be kind to him, but...” She shook her head.

     “Some people are simply never happy with their lot. There was nothing you could have done for him. It is possible he ran away, but who knows,” Doso replied calmly, remembering the contemptuous gleam in his eye as he had mocked her.

     “He was our gardener. He was at least competent in his job, and the kitchen staff already have much to do.”

     “Would you let me take care of the garden? When I was not taking care of my family, I would be out on the land. I just loved it.”

     “You are certain?” Metaniera found it hard to imagine this little, wrinkled old woman kneeling in the dirt and digging out vegetables.

     “I have been taking good care of your baby, haven't I? Really, do not worry about little old me.” Doso beamed up at the Queen, her smile causing more wrinkles to stretch across her face for an almost comical appearance.

o0o

     Demeter hummed to herself quietly as she knelt next to one of the patches of vegetation, ready to do some harvesting for the kitchen staff. It was gratifying to dig her hands into the dirt and pull up what the earth had to offer. Thanks to her blessing the earth, the vegetables were more robust than they would have been had Abas been around to collect them. She turned the carrot around in her hand, weighing it in her hands before nodding with approval. The farmers and gardeners of Eleusis would enjoy similar results. Though she would lay low for the time being, she had plans for this city.

     She filled her basket several times, depositing surprisingly fine specimen of various vegetables into the waiting hands of the kitchen staff. The cooks quickly descended onto them, peeling some, cutting others and the like as Doso continued working. They figured she would tire out eventually, but she steadily gathered enough food to last for a few days without showing any signs of slowing down. There was something else that Demeter wanted to dig, but she would have to wait until the Palace had turned in for the night.

     After spending some more time with Demophon before handing him to his mother, she slipped outside, moving smoothly along the pathways until she came to a corner of one of the plots. Carefully slipping between two unharvested rows, she stooped down and started digging. Her Gift, being connected to the earth, allowed her to sense the presence of buried objects. She had sensed it even before she started collecting the vegetables.

     She felt leather come in contact with her fingers and quickly grasped it, pulling it up to reveal a bag. With a curious frown, she quickly shook the dirt off the bag before opening it. Her fingers slid into it before feeling something round and smooth, and she pulled out the mysterious object to reveal the soft gleam of pearls under the moonlight. What other treasures were buried in this garden?

     Abas had been clever enough to split up his cache, but Demeter sniffed them all out and came up with several more pieces of jewelry and a small stash of gold and silver coins. She sensed the taint of Abas on the bags and hid them under her cloak, shutting herself in her room before she brought them out.  The bags were simply made and not of the tightest stitch, but they had served well enough to store these treasures.

     She fingered the pearl necklace, seeing that it was an antique due to the tarnished gold. Still, it was a fine piece of jewelry, well-made, and the dark gold helped to make the pearls seem brighter. As she was a goddess, she had nothing to gain from keeping these items. Doubtless they belonged to other people, though she wondered if perhaps any of this had belonged to Abas’s mother. But such an article was too fine to belong to a maidservant. Could it be a royal treasure? It was worth asking.

o0o

     Metaniera was in a particularly cheerful mood. She had dipped into their store of pigments though there wasn't that much left, and used it to dye most of the wool and raw linen they had. Her son had been quiet and happy today, reaching out for the sunlight with his little hands when she had let him sit outside in the courtyard for a while. Last night's supper and this morning's breakfast were especially scrumptious, due to the unexpected quality of their produce. Demophon was napping, and she was in a fine humor, wanting to spend the day with her daughters as she had not done often enough as of late. Her daughters didn't have an equal level of skill in spinning or weaving, but it wasn't to see who could do better. She just wanted her daughters around her, to talk with and laugh and share stories with, as she had done with her own mother and sisters before marrying Celeus. Sometimes a servant might even join them and sing or play an instrument for them. Eirene had shown a talent for the pipes, so Celeus had given her a set as a gift and she might play while the others weaved.

     They sat in the solarium spinning wool into yarn and trying different color combinations with the colors that Metaniera had dyed them with. Already Eirene was wishing she could put the distaff down, but Metaniera would have her work just a bit longer. Eirene did need to learn patience, and how to be at least competent in this household craft.

     She heard a soft clearing of the throat and turned around to see Doso at the doorway.

     “Might I have a word with you alone, my lady?”

     The Queen nodded, setting down her distaff and yarn. She quickly turned towards her daughters. “Continue what you were doing. And that includes you, Eirene. Eyes on the wool!”

     The youngest Princess stuck out her tongue at her mother's back as Metaniera left the chamber.

     The pair of women walked down the hall, Doso taking slow steps much like any old woman would. Metaniera maintained the nurse's pace.

     “When I was in the garden yesterday and digging around, I found several things,” the crone said. Metaniera raised her eyebrow.

     “I do not know who they belong to, so I thought it best to come to you privately.”

     “Certainly. I appreciate your prudence,” the Queen replied with a nod. The old woman reached into her sleeve and pulled out an object that Metaniera instantly recognized.

     “Thalassa's necklace!”

     “What?” Doso glanced up at her. “This? Why would it be in the garden?”

     “Several months ago, Thalassa came to me in a panic. She was unable to find her pearl necklace. She said that she put it away properly as she should, but the next time she went to get it, it was gone.”

     “Hmm.” Doso frowned, shaking her head slowly. “Then you should recognize the rest of these.” She pulled out several different pins and a couple of armbands.

     “Yes. These pins are mine, and the armbands belong to Triptolemus!”

     “And this?” Doso pulled out the money.

     “Celeus would know more about that than I. He did say something about some money being missing a while ago, I believe.” She held out her hand, and Doso obediently gave her the treasures.

     “Thank you for returning this to us. These pins were a wedding gift from Celeus, and I have always cherished them. I was so dismayed when I could not find them!” Metaniera's affection for her husband was clear in her voice.

     Demeter smiled faintly, thinking of her own wedding with Iasion. It had been a simple one, with her being the only goddess there, albeit in disguise as the mortal Thermasia. They had celebrated and had a good time, and Demeter had never known happiness more than she did in these years with the man she loved.

     “Would you like to sit with us? You must have some good stories to tell, and we do enjoy your company.”

     “Certainly, my lady.” Demeter smiled to herself as they returned to the solarium, where she was treated with more camaraderie and respect than she got from members of her own family.

Chapter XXXVI

o0o

     After being subject to the searing pain in his sides, Abas had lost consciousness and known oblivion. When he was conscious again, he found himself flying over the earth, pulled in one direction by some unseen force. The journey was but a few moments. Below the earth he went, and came to a stop as soon as he was placed near the banks of a river.

     Where am I?
he asked himself. All around him were what seemed to be people, only they did not appear to be flesh and blood at all. He saw them in varying states – some peaceful and calm, others wailing or hysterical. To one side was the river, the other revealed a cavern wall. In the wall he could see a crack in the rock, admitting a sliver of natural light.
There we go
. He had no intention of staying in this strange place.

     The crack revealed itself to be a staircase upon closer inspection, and he started to climb it, but there was the mysterious force again, pulling him back. As much as he struggled against it, he could advance no further. He reached for the light, and saw it glow through his fingers.

     What?
Abas stopped his struggles and stood on the bottom step, lifting his other hand and slowly rotating them. His fingers were translucent and gray.

     “Where am I? What is this place?” he asked, spinning around wide-eyed. Many souls nearby ignored him, too preoccupied with dealing with their own recent deaths. He shoved through them and ran to the banks of the river. The surface was quiet, and he was barely aware of the ferryman in the distance. However, when he tested the water with one foot, the cold seared through it just as if he was still flesh and blood, and he jerked back with a sudden cry.

     “The little one thinks to attempt to swim across the Styx!” he heard someone laugh. He turned around to see a fairly young woman, her features smooth and her garb plain.

     Little? He
hated
being called little, and became so incensed over it that he completely missed the mention of the river before them. Even as a grown man of nearly thirty, he had resembled a scrawny teenager, right down to the occasional outbreak of acne. Despite his long days of tending the Palace grounds, his exercises had failed to give him the ideal physique he had always wished he had. His muscles were wiry and covered by pale flesh that sunburned. It had always been hard for people to take him seriously due to his youthful and unsightly appearance. Unfortunately for him, he did not have a warm or charming personality to make up for his other flaws.

     “Little?” Abas asked outraged, stalking towards the woman. He did not know or care who she was, but he wouldn't stand for it! However, before he could close in on her, several others shoved him back.

     “You have to wait your turn, just like everybody else here!” someone else informed him.

     “Wait my turn for what? Nobody told me there was a line!” There was a quiet mishmash of several voices.

     “You do not know, do you?” the woman who called him 'little' asked.

     “Know what?”

     “You are dead. Otherwise, you would not be here. You will cross the Styx with Kharon soon enough.”

    
Dead?
If Abas had still been a mortal creature, he would have felt the thudding of his heart against his chest as he hyperventilated and felt light-headed. Without these cues to alert him to his state of anxiety, he could only stare at her with numb shock.

     “Oh dear. I take it your death was sudden. No wonder you were trying to swim across the Styx! I was confused at first, too.”

     Abas stood there mutely, processing the events that led up to his death. He remembered the taste of dates pilfered from the kitchen, and slinking outside for some fresh air. That stupid old nurse had been strolling around as if she owned the place. And such a rude little old woman she was! He had been sorely tempted to kick her. And then she mentioned her lost child and he had mocked her.

     “No!” Abas jerked back. He remembered the constriction around his body, and how everything had changed. Out of the constraints of his brief incarnation as a lizard, Abas was able to process things normally again. He remembered scuttling along on four legs and climbing up a wall before being swept up into the air by something with claws...

     That woman he had angered... she was a goddess! The Goddess of the Harvest. He didn't worship her, but her name was familiar enough to him. He started pacing back and forth by the bank of the Styx, thinking about what had happened and silently cursing Demeter for her actions. How dare she? These gods thought they were so high and mighty, and then to wander around in disguise like smelly old women! As far as he was concerned,
he
was the wronged party. He had been here far longer than she, and did an actual job. All she – Doso, Demeter, whatever the fuck – did was show up in front of Thalassa and play on the girl's kindness, and be a nurse to a baby that was just going to die anyway.

     Why did his life – and death – have to be so unfortunate?

o0o

     Metaniera only lowered her arms when Demophon turned his head away from her breast. He did not cry or fuss as he had before, and now drank her milk with a fairly healthy appetite. When she held him up and patted his back, he no longer vomited his meal like he had been so prone to. He might burp up a bit, but no more than an average baby. He was more energetic than he had been in a long time, kicking his legs, waving his arms. He had even started to crawl a bit, though he still had a ways to go before he could walk. At first, the changes had been subtle, but there was no denying them now. Demophon was getting better, and it couldn't have just been Doso's singing.

     Even his siblings remarked how much better he looked. His cheeks were now faintly rosy, and though he was still pale, he no longer had a gray pallor.

     Metaniera was determined to find out what was happening with her son. Did Doso know some sort of secret – herbs, maybe, or a spell? What with the improved harvest in Eleusis and the fact that the warlords had been struck with a mysterious plague only a few days ago, the Queen was more inclined to believe that Doso was a sorceress. Thank goodness she appeared to be a good one. The only odd thing was Abas’s disappearance, but after the old woman had uncovered the stolen cache of money and jewels, she realized that Abas would have never been happy here, and more things would have gone missing. She had never seen a smile on the gangly young man's face, and even though he was a competent enough gardener, it was clear that he took no pleasure in his tasks. And Doso was even better than Abas at maintaining the gardens.

     The Queen of Eleusis could not help but wonder, why was Doso here? She was doing all of this kindness for them, surely she must want something in exchange. She frowned at this thought. What if Doso would demand more of them than the warlords had ever done?

     She would see what Doso did to Demophon to get a better understanding of what the old woman did. She entered the chamber where the nursemaid now resided, seeing a half-finished project stretched across the loom. Rows of herbs and other plants drying along strings were tied to yarn strung across one corner of the ceiling. Metaniera glanced at these herbs for a moment, wondering if they were used in witchcraft. She glanced down at her son, brushing back a loose black curl from his face, sending out a silent prayer to the gods and hoping that they might at last hear her silent plea.

     As the old woman sat on a comfortable stool, her gnarled but nimble fingers twisting wool into yarn with her distaff, she looked up, and regarded the Queen and Prince with a warm smile. As always, Doso treated the baby gently, and Metaniera could feel the care as their arms touched. Surely this woman had no evil intentions?

     The crone started humming softly to the babe, and continued doing so as Metaniera retreated from the room. So that the crone wouldn't have any reason to not believe she was gone, the Queen moved from the doorway and walked along the hall, taking a leisurely stroll around the edge of the courtyard. After doing a complete circuit, she stealthily crept back to Doso's room. She peeked through the slight gap in the door, seeing the light of a flame flicker along the walls. She heard Doso singing in an almost inaudible voice, and the baby cooing quietly.

     Still, her curiosity spurred her on. She inched the door open and slid within the shadows, stifling a scream at what she saw. Metaniera stared in horror at the scene before her. Demophon was atop the hot coals in the hearth while his nurse – the woman who the queen had trusted – simply sat next to the fire, idly poking the child in his stomach. The child's mother was about to move forward with maternal indignation, but the baby laughed.
Laughed.
It was a healthy, full-bodied laugh, the sound of delight from a truly happy and comforted baby.

     He lifted his arms, clapping his fat little hands as his nurse tickled him, cooing at him softly. He was naked, and his legs kicked as Metaniera had never seem them kick before. She narrowed her eyes, thinking of her son's appearance ever since Doso had come here. Hadn't he slept more soundly? Didn't he cry less? Wasn't he drinking her breast-milk with a healthy appetite? If this woman had enough power to place Demophon within fire without harming him, then what else was she capable of?

     Demeter smiled as she touched the baby's chest, feeling how warm it was from the flames. She still possessed some stores of ambrosia, and was now using that to ensure the child's survival and health. She had smeared the substance onto his body before placing him into the fire. The bad parts of him would be burned away, and he would be a healthy and happy little boy. The traces of ambrosia in his blood would add extra robustness to ensure his vitality. And never before in his short life had Demophon ever been so warm! The flames licked at his skin without burning him, and as the sickly parts of him burned away, he felt free. He had been just a little baby, unable to put into words what pained him so, but now that pain was gone. As he felt Doso's fingers tickle his stomach, he laughed again.

     “There there now, is that wonderful? All nice and warm, no?” The hardened ambrosia was now starting to chip off him, falling down in little iridescent flakes and hitting the embers before filling the room with a faintly sweet and invigorating scent. Metaniera felt her nose and lungs filling with that scent, feeling a rejuvenating burst of energy. She was unable to hold back a gasp, and Doso's head snapped up as she glanced at Metaniera.

     Immediately, the mother sprung forward, snatching her child from the coals and clutching him tight, staring at the nursemaid with wide eyes.

     “What were you doing?” Metaniera asked. She was surprised that her question didn't come out in a panicked scream, for inside her heart was pounding.

     “Simply making him healthy,” Doso replied.

     “What kind of witch are you? What is your price for all of this?” She backed away with the baby as the old woman rose from her stool, growing larger, her back straightening and shoulders widening.

     “Did I ever ask for anything more than a room to live in and food in my belly?” Doso asked, her voice deep and firm, echoing off the walls. Metaniera fell to her knees, quaking in terror as she imagined what sorts of things this woman was capable of.

     “Please forgive me, my lady. I meant no offense. I simply wanted to make sure I understood what you might ask of me. You have protected us from our enemies, blessed our harvest, found what was stolen from us, and gave my dying son a new life. These are all great gifts, and I only wished to...”

     “You are a prudent woman. You recognized all the gifts I have given, and were prepared to recompense me. This is the first time anyone has ever asked to do so. Rest assured, my intentions have been nothing but good. I simply needed a place to... get away, and your family freely offered me refuge and comfort. You and Celeus care for your people, and want your children to be happy. I only wish that I knew that my own child is happy, but she has been stolen from me, and her father has no concern for my feelings.”

     “Oh, how dreadful!” Metaniera’s trembling ceased, and she approached Doso. “Please, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to. I will tell nobody of your secret. If I had one of my own children stolen away from me, I would be miserable! How could such a thing have happened?” She slid Demophon back into Doso's arms, dusting off the glitter of dried ambrosia from her chiton.

     “Such things happen because so many men are insensitive and thoughtless. The father of my child seduced me through trickery. I had been raising her by myself when her father agreed to a marriage, and my daughter is kidnapped by the man chosen to be her husband! And I had no say, or even knowledge of the matter! Only after a couple of months passed in my worrying and grief did I finally discover where she is, from another source because her father was too much of a coward to be honest with me! Only my poor baby is trapped in a realm I cannot enter. In my anger and grief I have turned away from my family, to give no more to them until my child is returned to me.”

     “Abominable!” Metaniera frowned, appalled at such carelessness. Even though Celeus knew that it would make her unhappy when the bandits had started asking for their daughters, he still wouldn't hide it from his wife. They talked about everything, especially the welfare of their children. Her beloved husband would never think of giving one of their daughters away and trying to hide it from her. “Is there any way we can help you?”