Tithing and Tidings

"Your grace," said the voice of the unnaturally beautiful female whose dark green hair was kept short and unkempt, with sprigs of mint growing from it. Barefoot, she approached the dais with both hands held before her, cradling a metallic cup with mint leaves peering over the rim. "I thought you might appreciate a drink."

The King of the Underworld stirred, lifting his head and blinking profusely. Then, getting his bearings, Hades turned his attention to his nymph servant. Then, smiling, he sat up and placed his hands on the upholstered arms of his dark throne. "Ah, Minthe," he smiled. "You shouldn't have."

The stygian nymph blushed as she ascended the steps of the dais. She usually had a pale orange pigment to her skin, but her cheeks were now pink, only broken up with chocolate-colored freckles that speckled her face. Minthe carefully extended the chalice, allowing the god to take the drink. As he did, she let out a satisfied giggle as his fingertips brushed against the flesh of her hands.

Hades gave the servant a polite nod, then brought the chalice to his lips. He took a slow sip using the silver straw hidden among the mint leaves, paused to let the full range of flavors work through him, and cautiously swallowed. He could not help but smile as he found no fault in what he had consumed. "Perfection," he finally confessed.

Minthe almost melted as she relaxed her shoulders and let out a relieved sigh. "I am so glad to hear this, your grace. You know how much your happiness means to me."

Hades nodded with a smile as his red eyes scanned the throne room. It was his assessment that it was just him and the nymph. He awkwardly put his lips back on the straw and took another sip. When he swallowed his second serving, he realized she was still waiting for him to reply. Releasing a nervous chuckle, he made an attempt to respond.

"It, uh, pleases me that... you're... uh... happy," he said, stumbling through every word.

Giggling, Minthe took a step forward, clasping her hands in front of her. She raised her shoulders and swayed side to side as she moved closer. "Is there anything else you need?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. "A bath perhaps?"

Hades took a deep breath and clamped his lips onto his straw. Conflicted, his mind began to ponder. A bath would be splendid. He usually saved such things as a reward at the end of the day. But retiring early that day did have a certain appeal. Hades had drifted off to sleep on his throne, exhausted from that morning's dealings in Tartarus. However, he had concerns a bath would give Minthe the wrong idea.

Minthe had served the Underworld for tens of thousands of years, even before Hades' rise to its throne. She was the leader of one of the five tribes of stygian nymphs. Hades had always been painfully aware of her affection for him since their first meeting. It was nearly impossible not to notice. However, she was a devoted servant whose loyalty had never been questioned. In the past, Minthe had informed Hades of malfeasance and even helped thwart a planned coup.

Originally, Persephone had brought Minthe to their castle as a handmaiden. In part, it was a political maneuver to secure the allegiance of the Stygian nymphs. However, while Persephone was pregnant with their second child, Minthe began to join the married couple as a third. Having a nymph share their marital bed had brought a new dynamic to the king and Queen's relationship that was enjoyed by all parties.

Yet, when Persephone was attending business with the Natural Order, Minthe would approach Hades with intimate suggestions not involving his wife. Hades politely declined, but Minthe was rather persistent and bold. So finally, Hades suggested Minthe accompany Persephone on her annual trip to the Grand Lodge to avoid the temptation altogether.

Minthe did not return with Persephone. Minthe had offended Demeter and been imprisoned. It took Hades' political maneuvers to secure Minthe's release. On the trip back to the Underworld, Minthe promised to repay Hades for his kindness, ignoring his assurances that no such return was necessary.

When Hades told his wife about Minthe's advances, she found it more humorous than he had expected. She was slightly upset but found some warped pleasure in watching her husband's discomfort. Persephone promised to have words with Minthe to ease her husband's concerns, but her words with Minthe were conspiratorial rather than confrontational.

So began a long, drawn-out series of Minthe tempting Hades in situations where Persephone could spy upon the two discreetly. Hades was unaware of his wife's machinations, but he rebuffed each advance. Nevertheless, Hades was sorely tempted on several occasions, especially after his brothers saw him decline one of the nymph's offers and assured him he was a mad fool.

After a while, Hades realized that he found himself awarded with a memorable encounter with his wife shortly after each temptation. It took the god longer than he cares to admit to realize the exact nature of the connection, but once he did, he decided to turn the tables on his wife.

To this end, Hades employed the services of Hecate to put an illusion on Persephone. The spell caused the Queen of the Underworld to appear and sound like Hades to Minthe's perception. Once that was in place, Hades used his innate magic to go invisible and called out to Minthe from adjoining rooms, luring her to follow him by promising to indulge her carnal curiosities. Eventually, Hades led the nymph to where Persephone could be found in the castle's garden.

Chaos ensued. When Hades' laughter betrayed his presence, Persephone realized the game and used a counterspell to remove the illusion. The goddess and nymph then planned their revenge, but the sort of retaliation they had in mind was not that Hades saw any need to resist.

That was many, many years ago. Though the god and goddess had explained to Minthe that she was welcome to join them when they were together, the nymph did not grasp the issue. Instead, she had continued to approach Hades. As a result, the relationship between Minthe and Hades always took an awkward turn whenever Persephone was away.

"My grace?" asked Minthe, waving her hand in front of the god's eyes, bringing him back to that moment.

Blinking, Hades looked at her inquisitively. "Hmm?"

"Do you require a refill?" she asked, tilting her head.

The chalice was quite empty, Hades now realized. He had drunk it all while he was lost in thought. That explained the buzzing sensation in his head. He let out a sigh, gave his servant the chalice, and slowly nodded. "Uh, yes... a refill, Minthe... Thank you."

She nodded and took the chalice with an eager smile. "Perhaps you would care to enjoy this drink in the bath? I can draw you a bath, too."

Hades had hoped she would go to get the drink and forget all mention of this bath, but that was wishful thinking. So instead, Hades looked up at the elaborate vaulted ceiling of his throne room, eyeing the flying buttresses and gothic stonework overhead. Something about the crisscrossing lattice of stone architecture above always had a way of helping his mind process the connections he needed to calculate.

"No," said Hades, nodding. "Have Leuce draw the bath," he said, suppressing a smile as his eyes fell back to gaze upon Minthe. "When you have finished with the drink, you can deliver it to the bathing chamber."

Minthe seemed surprised. "Leuce?" she asked, placing a fingertip on her moist lips.

Hades nodded.

Leuce was another of the immortal stygian nymphs. She was also one of Minthe's regular lovers. The two had been intimate with one another since a time before Hades was a god. Should Leuce and Minthe join the god for a bath, Hades figured he could get himself cleaned and get a good show at the same time. If the nymphs' interest turned toward him, he could simply bow out with the excuse of being exhausted. The nymphs would not be too insistent he should stay as they would still have one another to satisfy their interests. Nymphs were easy things to manipulate if one understood their driving principles.

As Minthe nodded and excused herself in a hurry, the king grinned, satisfied with his intended plan. He waited for a moment before he stood up from his throne and proceeded toward his private chambers. Hades had stepped into the corridor and began to loosen his necktie as he strolled down the intentionally crooked and dark corridor.

On either side of the corridor were alcoves where various sculptures were found. Many depicted Hades and Persephone in varying embraces, some majestic, others romantic, and a few even erotic. Other sculptures resembled individual gods, including the Underworld's notable divinities and the Olympians. However, the most recurring sculptures featured in this corridor were Dionysus, Melinoë, Makaria, and Hecate. The three children of Hades and Persephone, and Hades' adopted ward.

"A word," came a voice from some inky abyss between sculptures of Melinoë and Makaria, startling Hades.

Stepping from the darkness was Hecate, goddess of witchcraft. Her inky black hair was long and straight. She wore a black bolero jacket with black epaulets over a black and gray corset. Likewise, her skirt and boots were black. The most colorful thing about the goddess was her violet eyes, the precise color of the sky at the first hour of nightfall, and her lips, as red as blood pouring from a fresh wound.

Realizing it was Hecate and not an assassin or Minthe, Hades relaxed and released a dry chuckle. "My beautiful Hecate, you do not need to restrict yourself to but one word. You can have an entire library of my time and attention," he said, whipping his tie off and stowing it in his jacket pocket.

Hecate had little reaction or expression as she held her black-gloved hand, and purple smoke poured from the palms. Finally, she snapped her finger, and the smoke transformed into a scroll which she then wickedly snatched from the air above her hand and gently handed to the god. "A report for you."

Hades took the scroll and noted it bore the sigil of a book with a cracked cover. "The Broken Book?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My agents intercepted it," she said, giving a single nod.

"By agents, you mean witches," he thought to clarify as he peeled the wax seal from the parchment and rolled it open.

"I mean... Yes," she said with a nod. "As you will read, this confirms the heretics' presence operating within a day's travel by motorcarriage of each of the disappearances in that area."

"I see this," Hades said, nodding before a sudden pause. "The seal was unbroken," he said, glancing at the chthonic goddess.

"Hmm?" she asked, unfazed.

"The seal was unbroken," he said, rolling the scroll closed again. "How did you read this if the seal had not been-"

"Magic," she explained with a wicked smirk.

Rolling his eyes, Hades shook his head. "Dumb question," he admitted. Then, rolling the scroll open again, he quickly scanned it again.

"There is another matter. My witches tell me there is also the matter of an oracle," said Hecate taking a step forward.

"Oracle?" asked Hades.

"It seems that the heretics have managed to recruit a recently reborn oracle," Hecate explained, placing her hands in front of her as she leaned forward on her menacing cane. "It's unclear if this is by chance or intent. However, what is clear, is that without immediate intervention, she will be corrupted."

Hades stroked his beard. "This meeting mentioned... The oracle will be in attendance?"

Hecate nodded. "While it's not absolute, it is likely."

Hades nodded and handed the scroll back to Hecate. She took the scroll, and it vanished into the ether in a flash of purple and black flames. Smiling, Hades turned on his feet and went down the corridor in the opposite direction he had been heading earlier.

"What do you intend to do?" Hecate called out, not following.

"I intend to saddle Alastor and Aethon. I have quite the ride ahead of me!" Hades called out as he retreated down the long and twisted hallway.

"Aethon would be faster alone!" Hecate suggested.

Hades nodded, not looking back. "Yes, but Aethon only lets me ride him. Alastor will be for my wife."

In a flash of black and violet, Hecate appeared next to Hades, midstride, her cane tucked under one arm. "You could get there sooner if you did this alone. You do not need her aid to handle heretics."

"No," said Hades, shaking his head. "Persephone is a representative of the Natural Order. She should be there to comfort any captives we may rescue. Not to mention, if the oracle is there, she would be better received by my wife than the dreaded god of death."

"You are not as fearsome as you suspect," Hecate counseled, keeping pace with the god.

"I am uncertain if that was a compliment or an insult," he admitted. "Nevertheless, it is better to be safe than sorry. I would hate to explain to my nephew why I had no choice but to kill one of his precious priestesses because she screamed to high hells when I made myself known to her."

"If you intend for this to be a rescue mission, you should take all four of your steeds," she said, walking beside Hades as two massive doors opened with a simple gesture of the god's fingers.

"It has been some time since I made use of the Daughter Defiler," he confessed, smiling as he dropped the name he had given the carriage to torment Demeter. "Very well. Do me a kindness, if you would-"

"Retrieve Charon?" Hecate asked, still keeping in step with the god.

"Yes, have him meet me at the stables," he said as he swung open another door and stepped out under the Underworld sky as bolts of red lightning surged overhead and distant songs of nymphs and souls filled the air. "Oh, and after you do that-"

"Yes?" asked Hecate as both came to a stop at the entrance to the stables. "What is it?"

Relaxing his shoulders, Hades took a moment to formulate his phrasing. "Minthe and Leuce are expecting me in the bath soon. After you send word to Charon, could you inform them that-"

"I'll take care of them," Hecate said with a skewed smirk and a wicked intent in her eyes. Then, before Hades could inquire what she meant, she tapped her cane firmly into the ground and vanished in a flash of violet flames, leaving only inky black smoke in her wake.

Smiling, Hades turned around as the magic smoke washed over him. Then, swinging open the doors to his stable, the King of the Underworld swaggered into the building and was met by the raucous sounds of his four sable black stallions' hooves and snorting. "Hello, boys..." he said with a wicked grin as he walked past their pens and grabbed the silk fabric covering his magnificent carriage.

As he exposed the orichalcum and obsidian masterwork of Hephaestus, he was suddenly overcome with an immature joy. Hades prided himself on his dutiful work ethic, but he reveled in it when he got a chance to play. The idea of arriving at the Grand Lodge in his mobile masterpiece pulled by his four fierce sable stallions and pulling Persephone away from her mother to join him in the Daughter Defiler was the god's precise definition of fun.

Finally, he would have the chance to make Demeter's "slight misrepresentation" of his character a fact. Then, if there were time to coordinate it, Hades would give half his immeasurable wealth to have a photographer on standby snap a picture of Demeter's reaction and have it framed for display in Hades' throneroom. The wicked thoughts left the god entirely too amused as he prepared his carriage for its epic ride.

Just as he was finishing, Hades was joined in the stable by Charon. More than a mere ferryman, Charon was also Hades' closest and most trusted travel companion. Whenever Hades went on an adventure to the mortal realm, Charon was never far behind.

Charon scratched his beard as he approached. "So I'm told that we're headin' to the Grand Lodge?" he asked as his ghoulish figure shambled forward. He groaned as he climbed up to the front of the carriage, claiming the reins.

"Indeed," said Hades, following Charon up and sitting beside him on the black leather upholstered bench.

"How long do you expect this dalliance to occupy us?" Charon asked with a lopsided grin.

Hades shook his head. "This is no mere romantic getaway, Charon," said Hades, loosening the collar of his shirt. "I hope to have some souls of heretics for you to take home as a souvenir when we are done."

Charon nodded. "Well, killing heretics takes time," he said. "Time I could be spending hustling the dead for coin..." he said with a wheezing chuckle as he held out his hand.

Hades nodded, recalling the secret to Charon's loyalty. A god that loved coin as much as Charon would never betray the god of wealth. Hades conjured five platinum talents and deposited them into Charon's palm with a flick of his wrist.

Tucking the payment into his tattered coat, Charon snapped the reins and let the ferocious immortal steeds loose. Hades fell back, barely managing to stay seated, as Charon let out a mad cackle. The carriage tore through the streets of Asphodel that surrounded Hades' palace, at times balancing on two giant spoked wheels as it rounded corners.

Within minutes, the carriage was clear of the city proper. Then, seeing the road ahead was clear, or at least clear enough, Hades cleared his throat and gave the command. "Adraxe ti stigmí!" he barked as he reached between his legs and gripped the bench.

The stallions each reared up and let out a fear-evoking cry, warning everyone on the road before them to make way. The stallions were heeded, and by the time their hooves clapped back to the cobbled street, the road was clear. The four steeds put their heads down and lurched forward without further warning. Their legs moved with such speed that their world began to blur.

Holding his bench tight, Hades felt what was up suddenly become what was before him. As Charon let out his deranged chuckle, the horses charged into the dark blackness of the Underworld's clouds. Then, red lightning streaked across the sky in their direction. The horses moved with such speed that they could evade the bolt, but they kept their course. The energy broke apart as the lightning met them head-on, revealing an egg-shaped field around the horses and the carriage pulled behind them.

As the remnants of the lightning faded, the world around them became black entirely. Charon and Hades ascended into the absolute blackness for long, immeasurable moments, and every sense faded from them. Not even Charon's laughter could be discerned in the void surrounding them. Then, when Hades began to feel a measure of fear and uncertainty, the light finally broke and welcomed them with blinding warmth. As the horses leaped out of the middle of a field, startling some Elysian shepherd, the carriage was dragged out of the same inky pit that had appeared moments ago.

As the carriage bounced behind the horses in the uneven field, Hades' senses slowly returned to him as the magical blackness that had enveloped him, Charon, and the carriage was cast off them and left littering the ground in their wake. Then, as Charon's menacing laughter was an unexpectedly welcome sound to his ears, Hades conjured a bag of silver and tossed it into the field. "A few drachmae for the inconvenience!" he shouted, hoping to be heard over his crazed coachman's cacophony.

As the shepherd looked on, confused and clutching his chest, Hades relaxed into the bench and looked over at Charon. "I think he'll be fine..."

"Who?" asked Charon, still grinning ear-to-ear.

"Nevermind," said Hades, shaking his head. "No matter. Onward to the Grand Lodge."

Charon nodded and whipped the reins, prompting the stallions to charge across the humble country road, startling every traveler that saw their hellish ride. But, of course, all Elysians heard the tales of Hades' Wild Hunts and knew to not impede the King of the Underworld. Hades made sure to toss bags of coins behind him for their cooperation.

## Characters

### Gods

* Hades
* Hecate