“Oh, Roel, don’t you remember what Lady Doom said?”
“She said many things, Celeste.”
“Oui, but a key thing she said was:
“Oui,” replied Roel, “I remember, but what does that have to do with-?”
“ ‘Ever recall what we Three said,’
As she stepped forward, Roel said, “ ’Ware, cherie, for
’tis said his bite is deadly poisonous.”
Celeste paced toward the monstrous beast, and snarling, it charged, yet even as the princess flinched, Cerberus came to the end of its massive chain.
As it roared in frustration, Celeste drew the blunt arrow to the full and aimed and loosed, the shaft to hiss through the air and strike the middle head between the eyes, and that one fell unconscious. The remaining two howled and tore at the pave trying to get at her, yet the chain held, and Celeste nocked a second blunt arrow, and she let fly again, and once more the shaft struck between two of the creature’s eyes, and this time the right-hand head fell stunned.
Yet baying, the dog drew hindward a step, and again Celeste loosed an arrow, but Cerberus dodged aside, and the missile glanced off his shoulder. But the next one struck between the third head’s eyes, and the dog fell stunned, though like a deadly whip its tail yet struck out toward her in rage. Celeste moved ’round to the flank, though she remained beyond the reach of the long, Dragonlike lash. Another blunt arrow struck at the base of the tail, and it, too, fell limp.
Even as she dashed forward, she cried, “Now, Roel, before it regains its senses!”
Past the monster Roel ran with the animals, the horses snorting and shying in terror, but nevertheless following his lead. As for Roel, he cried out, his voice tight with fear, “Celeste, get away from that beast!” But even as the dog was rousing, Celeste ran to Cerberus and she snatched up her five spent arrows, and then she darted onward. The snarling monster lurched to its feet and lunged after, its fangs bared and snapping. And it missed her by a mere hand’s breadth as Celeste fled beyond the reach of its chain.
She ran to Roel, and he embraced her trembling form. And with his voice filled with distress, Roel said,
“Oh, my love, why did you do that? An arrow is not worth your life.”
“Because Lady Lot said we would need them ‘to kill and to not kill,’ and since I used them this time ‘to not kill,’ we might need all of them ‘to kill’ someone or something. I could not take the chance that we would run out of blunt arrows at a critical time.” Roel kissed her on the forehead and said, “Even so, cherie-” But he was silenced as she drew his face to hers and kissed him on the mouth.
Leaving Cerberus raging behind, they mounted up and rode on, and ’neath the dismal sky they fared in among broad plains. To the fore they saw more souls, these in aimless wandering, or so it seemed.
“We need find the Elysian Fields,” said Celeste.
“And the Hall of Heroes,” added Roel.
“Then let us ask one of these souls,” suggested Celeste.
The first one they asked looked up at them curiously.
“You are yet alive,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“We are on a quest,” said Celeste.
“Ah, like Aeneas,” said the shade. “Well, I cannot help you, for I do not know where lie the Elysian Fields.” Neither did the second soul they asked, nor the third nor fourth, nor many others. But finally one, an old-seeming man, said, “Yon”-and he pointed-“where the everlasting day is bright, where the sun ever shines down through sweet air to fall upon green grass and bright flowers and the beautiful faces of the favored. But beware the rift, for ’tis said to lead to Tartarus itself.”
“Tartarus?”
“Yes. It is the Abode of the Accursed, the pit where the very worst souls are sent after judgment. There it is where Sisyphus ever toils, and Tantalus reaches for the unattainable fig and tries to drink from the vanishing pool. There, too, are imprisoned Cronus and the rest of the Titans, and others. Deep is this chasm: it is said an anvil dropped into this abyss will take nine days and nine nights to reach bottom. And just as bottomless is the small rift nigh the Hall of Heroes, for I am advised it plummets to Tartarus as well.”
“How know you this?” asked Roel.
“I was told by Achilles himself, for he roams at times and pauses here in the Fields of Asphodel and speaks with me now and then. During twelve years of travail in our former lives, on one dark night I made his acquaintance.”
“And you are?”
“Priam, the last king of Troy.”
“I have heard of Troy,” said Roel. “Once mighty.”
“But now gone,” said Priam, and he wept shadowy tears.
Leaving the grieving shade behind, on they rode in the direction the former king had indicated. Awhile they fared under dismal skies, and off to the left they espied a great dark dwelling.
“The Palace of Hades, do you think?” asked Celeste.
“Perhaps. If it is, remember Thoth’s warning to not go there.”
“Ah, I do not plan to,” said Celeste, smiling, and on they pressed.
Finally, in the far distance ahead, they saw a glimmer of brightness, and toward this they fared. The sky grew lighter the farther they went, and finally they rode into sunshine. And all about was green grass and bright flowers and the air was sweet, just as Priam had said.
And now they could see an enormous, rectangular, white-marble building, perhaps three hundred paces in length and half that in width and some sixteen fathoms high. Soaring columns lined a broad portico, beyond which huge bronze doors marked the entrance. And below the eaves of its peaked roof, carven figures graced a wide frieze, showing chariots racing and naked men grappling with one another and throwing javelins and discuses and loosing arrows and engaging in fisticuffs and other such sporting events. To the left of the building they could see an oval track for chariot racing, and a straight track for running sprints. There was a ring for hurling the discus, and a field for the javelin throw. Nearby was an area for the standing broad jump.
Other venues for athletic events were scattered here and there.
“By the depictions above and the fields to the left, no doubt this is the Hall of Heroes,” said Roel.
“The gymnasium is enormous,” said Celeste.
“A mighty hall for mighty men,” said Roel, grinning.
On they rode, coming closer, and just ere reaching the great portico, they came to an area fenced off by a chain.
Within that enclosure yawned a rift in the ground, some six paces in length and perhaps two wide at the center.
Celeste said, “Think you this is the crevice of which Priam spoke, the one plunging to Tartarus?” They paused a moment by the chain and peered at the fissure. Celeste dismounted, and as Roel gritted his teeth to keep from telling her to take care, she leaned forward to look as the daylight shone down within.
“I see no bottom whatsoever,” she said. She turned to Roel. “It must be a way to the Abode of the Accursed.”
“Perhaps,” said Roel. “Yet let us not tarry, but enter the hall and find the black portal to the City of the Dead.”
Celeste remounted, and they rode to the steps.
And even as they alighted, one of the great bronze doors opened, and draped in the pelt of a lion, a large muscular man stepped out and said, “Seeking death, are you? Perhaps I should slay you outright.”
