ton took a wavering breath before he began again. “She is everything to me. I am proud of my death, and the honor it brings my family, but it means nothing if she is in peril. I must know.” Ariston kneeled. “I beg you. I beg you to return me to Athens.”
Hades stared into the fire, unable to deny the impact of this man’s actions. He was here, humbling himself without shame, for the honor, the love, of his woman. Hades was in awe. Would that he was able to feel such devotion, without fear of recrimination.
“Who is this wife?” Hades asked, angered by the hoarseness of his voice.
“Medusa of Athens.” Ariston paused. “Now of Rhodes.”
Hades was silent, his thoughts racing. Could he help this man? He could help Ariston. This was his realm. But should he? Should he give this man a reprieve?
“When I die,” Ariston began.
“You are dead,” Hades assured him.
“When I return… die again, I would serve as guardian to Tartarus. I am a skilled warrior, a skill I might offer you.” He spoke with confidence.
Hades could do little but stare at the man. Was he mad? Did he know what he was offering? For a woman?
“You vex me,” Hades murmured, his brow furrowing at this strange proposal. Surely there was more to this offer. “You offer this to me for a woman?”
Ariston nodded. “She is worthy.”
Hades was silent, for his chest seized with anguish. It encompassed him, raw and sudden. It was a pain he’d long denied, buried deep for his own protection.
Ariston continued desperately, “As Olympus has my arm and sword, she has my heart… a mortal, and perhaps weak, heart. My words may not … adequately express the love I have for this woman. But I cannot leave her when she is at risk.”
Ariston would return to his wife, to protect her.
As Hades had once done.
Would Ariston’s wife welcome him home? Would she be pleased to have him at her side and in her bed?
Or would she cry in terror and beg him leave her forever?
His hands clenched at the memory, faded but no less excruciating.
Hades nodded. “It is a weakness that is not reserved for mortals alone, Ariston of Rhodes. I understand.” Perhaps this mortal would have what he could not.
Ariston was silent, his body rigid as he waited. Hope, hope and excitement, flared in his startled grey eyes. It was more than Hades could bear.
“I will return you to your ship so that you may lead your men to victory. Too many have fallen in this war and I would see it end. When that is done, you may go to your wife.” The words came quickly, but he did not censure them. He could justify this, for every soldier was needed. He paused then added, “And when you return to this realm, I will expect your fealty when I demand it.”
“You have it,” Ariston vowed earnestly, and Hades believed him.
###
Six days of disappointment passed. She’d spent the better part of each of those days needling and prompting Myrinne or Crysanthe. She was far too eager for any insight or knowledge she might learn about him, she knew, but she could not stop herself.
Hades.
His burning blue eyes haunted her.
But her efforts were in vain. The nymphs were afraid of him, Persephone surmised. The few things they had shared with her were uttered in hushed tones. All the while, their eyes had flitted this way and that as if he might appear and drag them screaming into the bowels of the Underworld.
What she’d managed to extract had done little to aid her in searching him out.
He had four monstrous horses, a gift from his brother Poseidon.
He was evil, the bringer of death.