This is my fourth entry for the Fantasy Smackdown-- The theme was "Mythical Fantasy" and I was given Greek Mythology as my sub-genre. I used pictures, 2, 3, 4 & 6; the story is approx 3,4000 words. Happy reading! I hope you enjoy. 

The Labor of Corbis

SP Parish

(c) 2013 

There was a woosh of flame as the tree went up in smoke. The visibility level was zero. The warning bells in my head, however, were going off at maximum capacity.

The squawk above was answered with an overhead strike. I was rewarded with a dead crow thumping down at my feet.

“Watch it, Corbis,” a deep voice boomed as the smoke cleared. “They are my birds. I might take offense.”

Waving the thick smoke from my face, I answered the god of hell. “You? Take offense? Why, Pluto, I am surprised.”

It was odd, seeing a tree harrumph. Most people would have perhaps been shocked. Then again, I was standing atop the bones of the fallen Pluto carried with him as his own dead entourage. Shocking might have missed the mark.

If it weren’t for our history, I may not have been standing atop this barren mountain, talking to a tree, with a scabbard slung hastily across my jeans.

I had long since swapped my spear for a short sword. Still.

“I should have taken you a long time ago,” the tree complained. This obviously wasn’t my first round with the god of the dead. Long ago, when atriums and togas were the way of the world, Pluto and I had struck our first deal. Since then, every few years, we would agree on some other arrangement in exchange for his holding off on cashing in my ticket to life. After all, after a few millennia, I had grown attached to it.

“But then, you’d be stuck with me,” I teased. Pluto was one of the more easy-going gods. Some of them, well, let’s just say I was glad I dealt with him.

The tree rolled his eyes, “No, ‘Nice to see you, Pluto’? ‘Long time, no see, old friend’?”

“We have never been ones for pleasantries, what gives? Is what you have planned for me so bad?” The god went uncharacteristically quiet. “Pluto—“

The tree shook in such a way that sparks fell from its still smoldering branches. A few disgruntled crows flapped their wings before landing back on their perches.

“Corbis—“ the god returned my tone with a little deity power behind it. I chose the high road, and waited for him to respond. “I have a labor for you.”

At the mention of the task, I automatically stood taller. Long ago, I led armies into battle and the years had done little to alter my physical appearance.

“I will accept your labor, Pluto, god of the underworld, if you grant me a century of fruitful, peaceful and happy life.”

It was just like old times. I knew what was to come.

“Done.”

My eyes widened in surprise. That wasn’t it.

“What?” I asked.

If it was possible for trees to shrug, this one did. “What? You don’t want a century of,” some branches moved to make air quotes, “’fruitful, peaceful and happy life’?” My stare burned a hole into Pluto’s bark. Something was wrong. Pluto had never given me all I wanted. He wasn’t that god. “What?” he asked.

“Is it so bad that I will not come back from it?” the playful humor from earlier was all but gone.

“Now Corbis, do you really think I would do that to you? If you were gone, who would do my bidding? There are so few who believe in us anymore, it’s a tough world out there.”

My sword found its way back to my belt. The only danger here was what was to come. “There are plenty who believe in hell, Pluto.”

He rolled his brown bark eyes, “Yeah, but a pointed tail and a pitchfork isn’t exactly my style, you know?”

“What is, then? Stealing the souls from those you have grown to trust in the past millennia?”

“Not exactly,” he said, scratching behind his head. The crows squawked disapprovingly.

“Then what?” I asked.

“More like stealing a peacock.”

My eyes furrowed in confusion. The realization hit me. “You mean—“

But he cut me off, “Your labor in exchange for a century of a fruitful, peaceful and happy life, Corbis Baros Argyros, you are to bring the beloved bird of the consort of the lord of the skies to the eastern gate of the underworld. There, you will ensure he meets the many-headed dog. Only then will your labor be complete.”

My stomach dropped. Shock consumed my body, “You want me to steal Hera’s bird? Are you serious?”

Pluto’s eyes went wide, “Ssssh!” He hissed. “You know better than to name names.”

He was right, of course, but it did not matter. I was dead either way. Pluto knew it, too. As I sighed, an unfamiliar emotion passed across the face of the god of the underworld.

“Pluto, are you sad?” I asked, head tilted to the side in confusion. “If I did not know any better, I would say you like me.”

The tree scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. You have thirty days.”

The crows departed as the tree transformed back into its unanimated shape. It was a bit worse for the wear with graying bark and cracked, dead branches. The god of the dead had taken its life to serve his own purposes.

Much as I feared, he was doing with mine.

***

After meeting with Pluto, I returned home. I had not seen the god of the underworld in almost sixty years, and could have gone sixty more.

For the next few days, I took my time doing menial, everyday tasks. They were just like any of my other days, except now they were laden with thoughts of Pluto's labor.

Steal Hera's peacock.

It was easier than it sounded.

First off, Hera wasn't the kindest or most forgiving of the ones atop Mount Olympus. Right the opposite, if the stories were true.

And they usually were.

Most of the time, Hera was said to be chasing after Zeus' latest conquest. Years ago, around two thousand or so, the lord of the skies was chasing after a lady be the name of Lo. The story is wrought with impermissible love, a jealous wife, murder ...and a cow. But, that was a one-time thing.

After hearing about the fling, Hera sent her main giant, Argus, to do the dirty work. Argus had eyes in the back of his head. Literally. Long story short, Zeus tried to kill Argus, but not before Hera turned her spy into a peacock.

I know, it wouldn’t have been my first choice for a man either. You tell her that.

Essentially, Pluto wanted me to catch Argus, take him to hades and feed him to Cerberus.

I had no idea what Hera, or Argus for that matter, had done to Pluto. That was none of my concern.

What I did know was that, after living longer than most, I had grown pretty attached to my life in the hills.

And thirty days was not enough time to say goodbye.

Now that I had decided, I had to find that bird.

He would probably be staking out Zeus' current flame.

Where could I find pretty ladies and a peacock?

I packed my bags.

I was going to Rome.

***

As a Greek, I generally avoided Rome at all costs. I much preferred the countryside to the dirty busyness the city embodied. However, it was the most common sense place to begin my search without having one of the lesser gods intervene.

There were tons of people, from all over the world at any said moment in time perusing all Rome had to offer.

It was also the middle of the summer, so its biggest pro was also the biggest con. People were everywhere. Finding a beautiful woman in these crowds would be like finding Spartacus on that hill.

I chuckled lightly at my own joke.

"See something funny?" my waiter asked. I was sitting outside a little cafe not too far from my hotel. It was a great place for people watching.

I shook my head, "Just a funny thought, is all. Sorry."

He shrugged as he refilled my drink. "Not a problem. Are you in town for the fashion show?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, "The fashion show?"

"Si," he said, pulling a newspaper from under his arm. "It is all the rage this week. Beautiful girls, little clothing," he nodded suggestively at me. "You should try to go if you have nothing else to do."

With that, he was gone, leaving me to make my own decisions. I opened the newspaper and gasped. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t that easy.

The headline of the paper, “Beasts—the Show of the Century” was followed by a explanation of some designer’s bright idea to combine animals and high fashion. Snakes, dogs, turtles and more would accompany the models down the runway.

Not being much of a connoisseur of popular culture, I did not see what the fuss was about.

However, I would be attending the show.

The picture pasted under the headline showcased a beautiful, dark woman draped in flowing blue cloth that conveyed the old style. Beside her, a stunning white bird.

A peacock.

I rolled up the paper and threw some bills on the table.

I had a show to catch.

***

After some major shopping, I showed up at the grand plaza dressed in a well-cut tuxedo. Looking sharp, if I say so myself.

It was not difficult for me to arrange a ticket to the event. Much had changed over the thousands of years to which I had born witness. However, man's love for money was not one of them. Denarius or Euro--the more you had, the easier it was to make things happen.

Somehow, I had managed to snag a seat in front of the stage that was also close to the exit. Moments after I sat, the lights dimmed before going out completely. It was time for the show to start.

It was interesting, to say the least. The designer in charge did not account for the fact that animals have minds, and wills, of their own. They don't give a hoot about high fashion. The large dog in the tutu hit that one home hard.

It stared off with models dressed in all sorts of couture clothing, slowly winding back to modern day, nostalgic, historical pieces bordering on costume, and finally, the ancients. It was an unexpected treat, to say the least. Especially the final model.

She exited draped in blue, her olive skin glowing beneath the lights. As she approached the end, the audience let out a collective gasp as a great, white peacock landed at her feet. The model knelt down, and the bird gracefully hopped to her shoulder. She smirked, turned and walked out to a thunderous applause.

For the final walk, all the models made another round in their little model line, the blue beauty bringing up the end. One by one, the crowd stood in admiration as they exited the stage. I found myself standing with them, when I remembered I had a job to do.

I slipped through out the exit and into the back. The key to not getting caught in a situation like this was to walk as if you had a purpose. Easy enough, right?

This time, that is.

I slipped, unnoticed, through the side of the large model’s tent behind the plaza. At once, I noticed the animals being stored away in their holding pens and cages but there was no peacock.

A crowd of press was forming at the back of the tent. Walking with a purpose only got you so far without credentials around your neck. I began to hightail it out of there when a flash of blue caught my eye. It was her, and she was in the middle of the group of reporters. With the peacock.

And another man.

Now, I'm not quite the jealous type; however, after two thousand years, I could identify a man when I saw one. Well, hopefully you could too. What I meant was, I could differentiate between a man dressed up as a man, and a god dressed up as one. This guy was definitely the latter.

Without thinking, I inched closer.

"Yes! She is beautiful, no?" the god said, sliding his arm around the model. "She and her little peacock are quite the pair. These two alone were the inspiration for all you see!" he gestured wide around the tent, then leaned in for a kiss. "She is marvelous," just then the peacock jumped arms, effectively blocking the god. No smooches for him. The crowd laughed. "He is a jealous bird, no?" They laughed again, and the questions started.

I had seen enough. Walking away, I began to plan out my next step. She had the bird, but she also had an interested escort who bore a striking resemblance to Zeus. The bird, I needed--The attention from the sky lord? Not so much—and I needed to get the bird alone.

But that wasn’t in the cards. I stopped just shy of cursing the fates as I watched the crowds fade and the animals leave sans peacock. She had obviously kept it with her. When I went to confirm my assumption, it was too late. I rounded the corner just in time to see her—and the bird—getting into a limousine.

Haling a cab proved not to be entirely impossible. Anyways, a limousine was not exactly inconspicuous, and was easy enough to follow, which we did, right up to the hotel.

But it was no use; I had lost her and the bird. I settled back in the cab after giving the driver directions to where I was staying. A lot had been accomplished today, however, even though I had the location of the bird less than a week into my thirty days, I needed to be back at the hotel early to ensure they did not leave.

Good thing I had kept my curses to myself, for the fates must were weaving in my favor the next morning.

Just as the sun peeked over the horizon, I claimed a seat at another café—this one in front of the hotel from last night. Not only did she come out, but, right about the time I made it to the sports section, I saw a familiar figure settle in at the table adjacent to my own. I was proud to have refrained from spitting coffee through my very Roman nose.

She looked different this morning, dressed in a simple sundress and glasses, her thick hair pulled back high and tight. I picked up my coffee and made my way over to her table.

“Good morning,” I said.

She looked up, shielding her eyes. “Good morning,” she replied hesitantly. “Can I help you?”

I gestured towards the open chair across from her. “Is this seat taken?”

“No, please.” she said as she pushed in towards me with her foot.

The next question died suddenly on my lips. “Excuse me, but, if you don’t mind me asking, where did you get that?” I pointed to the soft expanse of skin between her collarbones. Nestled gently against her tanned skin was a charm on a robust golden chain. It was an exact replica of Cerberus, the gatekeeper of Hades.

Consciously, her hand flew to her throat. “Why do you ask?”

“It is an interesting piece of jewelry, is all.” As is your reaction.

She visibly relaxed at my answer. “It was a gift.”

“From who?”

She scoffed, “So many questions from a stranger. What does it matter to you?”

I held out my hand, “My name is Corbis.”

Eying it hesitantly, she finally reached for it and shook, “Annie. I would say it’s nice to meet you, but…” she shrugged.

I smiled at her reply, “You tire of strange men approaching you?”

Annie rolled her eyes, “It comes with the job.”

“It also comes with being a consort to the gods. Wouldn’t you say?” She froze. “I can help you, Annie, if you want help. If not, if I could just have your bird, I would leave you alone.”

“What does my bird have to do with it?”

“He is Argus,” I said. Annie scoffed.

“You’re telling me my pet is a mythical creature from ancient times? Impossible.”

“No more impossible than your boyfriend being the god of thunder.” Her eyes went wide. It wasn’t the surprise of new news, but, “But, that you already knew. Did you also know he is married? His wife doesn’t take too kindly to infidelity. You could ask his past conquests, if you could find one. Most are dead, but those are the lucky ones. Some are still around.” I held out my hand, ticking off fingers, “Let’s see, one was turned into a tree, another a cow…”

She gulped. “A cow?”

I nodded, “Yep. And not the fat human kind, either. The one that lives in the pasture. Says moo?”

Annie’s perfect eyebrows shot over the rim of her frames. “What do you need from me?”

***

Early that evening, less than a week after my meeting with Pluto, the tree, I arrived at the eastern gate of Hades. This was one of the more scenic entries, nestled into the side of a craggy hill where water flowed over it throughout the year. Thankfully, today the water came down in soft sheets. I don’t know how my guest would have fared soaking wet.

I passed under the waterfall, bird over my shoulder in a leather knapsack of sorts. I had found it at a store close to Annie’s hotel. Once she knew all sides of the story, she had decided to get rid of all god-laced paraphernalia in one fell swoop. I put Argus down. The peacock started to squirm as the heat from the gate of hades reached him.

“Shhhh,” I tried to comfort him. I undid the knapsack, and reached around for Argus’ head. Eventually, after a few scratches and what I was certain was a nip at my fingers, I found it and pulled it through the opening, leaving the rest of his body inside. The bird stared at me in confusion.

I pulled out Annie’s necklace of Cerberus and placed it around the neck of the stunned bird. There Pluto, I thought, the beloved bird of Hera has met the many-headed dog at the eastern gate of the underworld.

No sooner had I completed the thought when a pop sounded behind me. It was Pluto, in his traditional Greek toga and greasy hair. He was clapping.

“Oh, Corbis! You did it!” he said.

I looked at him, a bit confused, “You mean, this,” I gestured towards Argus, still on the floor of the cave, his head peeking out of the bag with a golden necklace wrapped around it. “is what you wanted?”

The god of the underworld threw his hands up into the air, “Yes! You are too smart, boy. Too smart.” He looked at his wrist and sighed.

“What is..?” but I was cut off by a crack of thunder. The sound bounced off the hard walls of the cave, shocking me into a deafening stupor.

Zeus had arrived.

“WHAT IS THIS, PLUTO?” he boomed.

“This dear brother, is your contract fulfilled.” Pluto returned. He picked up the bird, releasing the necklace, then the bird from his bindings. It took one hop, looked around, and took to the sky.

“My contract fulfilled? Argus is not DEAD!” Zeus boomed. The ground shook beneath my feet. “YOU!” Zeus pointed in my direction. “This is YOUR fault!” Reaching back, he grasped a lightening bolt from nothing, hurling it in my direction. I ducked just in time to see it hit my core and, nothing happened.

Pluto answered, “Your asked that the bird be brought to the eastern gate,” he gestured to the wall of fire behind us, “and meet Cerberus.” He threw the necklace to his brother. “Tricky things, contracts. Yours has been fulfilled. Good bye, now.”

The god of thunder bellowed in outrage before disappearing in a pulse of bright light.

“What just happened?” I asked.

Pluto paused, looking down at me. Then he turned and began to walk away, a blue twinkle in his eye. “Why, Corbis, you just completed your labor.”

I stood, “Wait? That’s it? Why didn’t Zeus kill me? What if I wouldn’t have got your hints? Why weren’t you more clear?”

Pluto cut me off, “Corbis, stop.” I did. “I will see you in a century, friend.”

And with that, he was gone.

For a century.

I sighed. Oh well, might as well get on with it. A hundred years.

It’s safe to say I walked away from hell with a smile on my face.