"
"But, to the matter at hand. Yes, stables they were. And full
to the brim with excellent fertilizer. Oh, such gardens as we
shall have this spring! I'm sure you will be well pleased."
Zeus sniffed the air. Zeus seemed to be not well pleased. He
was muttering to himself.
"Callow youth? Stables? Fertilizer? I will have his head . . .!
Buying it from him with my own goods! Inconceivable!"
"Had all the Gods and Goddesses hard at work. That's something
I've never accomplished. Ah, perhaps he might fit in well at
Olympus!"
Dionysius sat quietly in the prow of the boat. The ferryman was
silent, merely guided the craft on its way. The craft moved of
its own volition.
"How come I here? Who are you? And what is this body of water
on which we float?"
The ferryman stared at him in steely silence.
Dionysius glanced around, studied the ferryman, the boat, the
dark liquid on which they floated.
"I was condemned, and the execution was for tomorrow. I had
venison for supper - stupid cook burned it badly, gravy was
tasteless. Then I slept. Someone roused me and we went to the
execution chamber. They readied me for the blade. I remember
cursing them soundly, one and all. I was bound and the
executioner made ready. Did I faint? Did you rescue me, or was
it another? What pay do you expect for this service? I am a poor
man, so don't expect too much!"
Although the air was dark and gloomy Dionysius was beginning to
feel cheerful.
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