Thanks to Bluer Sky and Pennant for your encouraging words!

Rhea's last child

It was just another rainy and gray day in November. Or so I thought. Waking up that morning to the water dripping and splashing upon the empty milk-cans and singing in the gutters outside the open window, I had no idea that this very day was going to be the one that changed my entire life.

As usual this time of year it was cold, so I started a fire in the hearth and laid and watched it for a quarter of an hour before getting up. A quarter is what it normally takes for Divine Fire to heat up my bedroom. However today it felt unusually damp and unwelcoming, the floor icy beneath my bare feet, so I increased the flames before preparing my humble but perfectly satisfying breakfast of bread, milk, cheese and dried fruit; the milk and cheese being from my own goats. I had taken up herding again after returning to Crete.

I had hardly sat down for my meal when somebody banged on the door downstairs.
" Now what? " I asked myself. "They want to buy milk in this early hour? "

But I could tell by first glance that this immortal visitor with her queenly appearance was not a customer. And since I sensed no danger from her I opened up the door, letting her into my hallway. Rain was dripping from her hooded cloak and she was holding a bundle in her arms. Something moving. Something alive.

A slender, white hand pushed back her hood, displaying a familiar face. Familiar even after all these years.
" Rhea! "
" May I - exchange a few words with you, Amalthea? " Her deep voice as soft and mellow as in my memories.
" Certainly! Come on up! Are you hungry, I can offer - "
" Don't worry about me. Can you hold - "

Rhea handed me the bundle. It was an infant swept in a warm wollen blanket. A baby hardly a week old who slept soundly unbothered by the new arms holding him. Rhea took off her cloak and liberated herself of a backpack and some weapons.
" Who's? "
" He's mine. Six days old, I gave birth to him not far from here. I'm calling him Zeus. "
" Zeus. I looked at the boy-child asleep in my arms. Delicate eyelids, button nose and tiny lips. Blond dust on the top of his head. Small fists. A sweet baby smell. So cute he was. So vulnerable. I so wanted to protect him from all evils in the world.

" Yes, means Fair Sky. Amalthea, I wonder if Zeus and I could stay with you - just for a few days, to regain my strength to return. "
" Return where? "
" To him. Before he comes looking for me. "
" Your husb - "

" He's not my husband", Rhea almost snapped. "He never was. He took me and locked me up and raped me and never asked a word concerning my well-being. Never asked if I was - " her voice broke and she made a face before getting herself together and gathering her things.
" I'm sorry Amalthea, it's just that I'm so shaky at the moment. So scared. Me and my poor little boy, we have nowhere in the entire world to go. You were the only one I could think of.
" Of course you can stay. As long as you want. Come on up! And you sure need to eat, Rhea, if you're going to feed your son. "

It was decided that Rhea and Zeus would stay as long as needed in my humble place. I arranged another bedding for the lady, the one usually kept by my sister Adrasteia when she came visiting during the summer period when the goats had their calves. I also emptied a basket I used to keep bread in, and turned it into a baby bed for little Zeus.

And while Rhea ate and breast-fed her son she told about the events leading to her running away from the dark castle.
" I've been Cronos' bride now for almost ten years. Ten years of endless abuse from his side, ten years of being locked up in the castle meeting only him - my captor and my silent maids. You know, he shrinks their tongues so they can't speak anymore. So they can't gossip or plot against him. That was why I sent you away, Amalthea. You were my friend, the only one I had, I didn't want anything like that to happen to you. "

" Must have been horrible. "
" It sure was. Especially when he forgot me for days, left me tied up to the bedposts. The maids didn't dare to release me, they hardly dared to wash and feed me. Only relieve was when he went away on his campaigns chasing the Gods of the Mainlands. But there's hardly any more upstarts around, nor any revolutions. And I know my time is nearing, because he has found himself a new one. "

" A new girl? "
" Yes. Philyra of Thessalia. Poor thing was brought to the castle some months ago. Haven't had her first bleeding yet, so she's still 'protected'. But any day soon. And then it's bye bye Rhea. "
" But your child? Is Zeus his? "
" Of course he is. I haven't been allowed to even be seen by another man for years and years now, being kept in my chambers. "

" But if you gave him a child wouldn't he keep you just as a mother to the boy? "
" I've given him half a dozen already. They were all taken from me at birth. "
" Where? "
" He claims he keeps them somewhere 'safe'", Rhea sobbed. "But I actually believe they are dead, because they are nowhere to be found. Even I, their mother, can't sense their auras anymore. It's like he has eaten them alive. And I don't want that to happen to this little one. This very last one. That is why I want to ask you this big, big favour. "

" Certai... "
" No, no, don't say yes until you've heard it! "
" Then speak! No, I think I know, you want asylum here for you and the baby. "
" No, only for my little boy. Only for Zeus. Will you keep him here? There are gods... There are still a few gods out there fighting Cronos. Gods who'd do anything to thwart the tyrants plans, even if it's only about saving the life of a little innocent boy. They'll help you, I'm sure! "

" Of course I'll do that, my friend. But - what are you going to do? "
" Go back to him, have him sending me to Tartarus so he can remarry. He must not suspect a thing. "
" Rhea! You can stay here! We can arrange something! "
" No, he would be looking and he would find me, and then he would find Zeus too. And I don't want my son to get hurt. He's so tiny. So innocent. If it's the last thing I do in this realm, saving him would be a good deed. My only good deed in life. "

Interlude

On lover Manhattan there's a restaurant called Little Hellas. It's run by Ganymedes, the old cup-bearer of Olympos, and there's where you usually meet Chiron the Centaur, the one son of Cronos and Philyra. Well-disguised of course, the New Yorkers might be used to seeing a lot of strange fellows, but a half-horse would have them freaking out. Or maybe not, perhaps they would only think it being the latest Hollywood stunt and reach for their cameras.

But I bet Chiron don't want that scenario either. He's content if he can go to Little Hellas every evening and have his moussaka and chat with Gan and whatever other immortals who show up. You see, the rustic Little Hellas with is cozy and home-like atmosphere and great food has become a meeting place for deities of all kind. The Greeks come here of course, but also the Native Americans, like Hudson's brother Potomac, the rabbit-like Nanabozho and Shakuru the sun god, as well as those Aztecs who we call Kick and Tick because no-one can pronounciate their names.

This night is no exception, I soon spot the usual half a dozen immortals among the guests. Pan and the Norse Loki play pool in the corner and Dionysos hangs in the bar with Bast of Egypt and Amaterasu of Japan, entertaining them with yet another made-up story about his 'adventures' around the world. He loves to picture himself as some kind of Indiana Jones, but we all know that his main explorations lie within the world of liquid beverages.

Chir is sitting at his usual place together with his beloved, the Celtic horse-goddess Epona. I join them and tell Chir that I'm writing about his father.
" Oh, don't remind me", Chiron sighs. "Of course he has softened up a bit over the millennia, but he better stays down there where Hades can keep an eye on him, even if Elysium is a far better place than the dungeons of Tartarus. Now, look, there's another troublemaker of the family! " Chiron points with his fork at the TV-set.

CBS News is on, showing a military hotshot with a lot of coloured stripes at his uniform, talking about the latest Middle Eastern development. R.S. Marshall, NATO HQ, the legend beneath the handsome man reads. That's what he calls himself these days, Ares the war god. If someone reminds me of Cronos, it's his grandson Ares, not the gentle and intelligent Centaur.

Interlude ends