Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a Spring morn

“Let us see what the ferryman says,” suggested Celeste. “Perhaps he has another craft.” On came the small boat, ebon in color, with a high prow and stern. And now they could see Charon poling the vessel. He was dressed in black robes, and a hood covered his features. Closer he came, and now they could see his withered, almost skeletal hands, yet his hood held the darkness of a moonless night, and nought of his face did they see.

He stopped alongside the pier, the top wale of his ferry level with the capstones, and with a shriveled, taloned hand he silently gestured for Roel and Celeste to board.

“Ferryman,” called Roel, “we would take our animals with us.”

Charon pointed a skeletal finger at the horses and beckoned.

“Cherie, though it will take several trips to get all across, I think the boat is large enough to accept one of our mounts. I will lead my mare aboard.” Untethering his packhorse, Roel stepped from the dock and into the boat.

Charon held out an atrophied hand, a hand rather like that of a long-dead corpse. Roel spat out the coin from his mouth and gave it over to the ferryman.

Charon then gestured at Roel’s mare and beckoned.

Roel pulled on the animal’s reins, and the mount stepped from the dock into the boat, and-lo! — the craft lengthened.

Again Charon held out a withered hand, and Roel took the coin from the mare’s tack and gave it over.

The ferryman then gestured for the gelding to board, and Celeste tossed Roel the lead from his packhorse, and he pulled the animal into the ferry, and once again the boat grew, and once again Charon demanded his due.

And in a like manner did Celeste and her horses board the craft, each time the ferry lengthening to accommodate them.

Now Charon plunged his pole down into the waters of the River Acheron, and slowly did the boat turn to leave the dock, and as they pulled away, Celeste withdrew a handful of coins from her drawstring purse, and she flung them onto the bank, and the forlorn rushed forward in a mad scramble to snatch them up.

“I just wish I’d had enough for all,” said Celeste as she watched the ruction ashore.

“Did you save six coins for our return?” asked Roel.

Celeste blanched. “Oh, love, I didn’t think of that.” Roel smiled and shook his head. “I believe we have more coin in our baggage, but if not, we’ll manage somehow.”

Beyond the width of the Acheron, Charon entered a fogbound drear marsh, and across weed-laden waters he fared, and if the torpid current of the river flowed through this foetid swamp, neither Roel nor Celeste could discern it.

Behind them, the bank of the poor and the unburied disappeared in the gray fog, and onward Charon poled.

“How can he see his course?” whispered Celeste.

“I know not, love,” Roel murmured in return, “yet it seems he does.”

Finally they emerged from the stagnant waters of the Dismal Marsh, and once again it seemed a current flowed, though slowly, as did the River Acheron.

“This must be the Styx,” said Celeste, as on Charon poled.

At last he came to another stone pier and glided to a stop alongside. And then with a gesture Charon bade them to disembark.

This time Celeste led, and onto the quay she and her horses stepped; Roel and his mare and gelding followed; and as each person or animal left the boat, the ferry shrank.

As Charon swung about and poled away, Roel said,

“A marvelous craft that, for it changes size to accommodate its passengers.” Celeste nodded and said, “I think it must be because at times-as in war or during a plague-many souls come all at once for transport into Erebus.” They trod to the end of the pier, where before them they saw a gateway, and in the opening and tethered on a long and heavy bronze chain lay a monstrous three-headed dog with a serpentine tail much like that of a Dragon.

And as they approached, the dog lifted its heads and stood and snarled, its crimson eyes glaring, and its scarlet tongues lolling in three foam-slavering jaws filled with dark and terrible fangs.

The horses screamed in terror and shied back and would have bolted but for Celeste’s and Roel’s adamant grips.

Roel called out as he struggled with his animals, “I feared ’twould be so, for I deem this is Cerberus, the guardian to the gates of Hades’ dominion, and he will not let the living pass.”

“Then what will we do?” Celeste called back, now managing to get her mare under control.

“I will take up my shield and spear and-”

“Oh, Roel, you cannot slay this creature, for then Lord Hades himself will hunt us down.”

“Then what do you suggest?” asked Roel, as he finally got his own mare under control.

Celeste thought furiously. What do I suggest? What do I suggest? How can we get past this terrible beast without killing-? “Killing! That’s it, Roel. Killing!”

“That’s what I suggested, love, and now-”

“Oh, Roel, don’t you remember what Lady Doom said?”

“She said many things, Celeste.”

“Oui, but a key thing she said was:

“Creatures and heroes and the dead Will test you along the way.

Ever recall what we Three said,

To fetch the arrow of gray.”

“Oui,” replied Roel, “I remember, but what does that have to do with-?”

“ ‘Ever recall what we Three said,’ that’s a key phrase of Lady Doom’s rede, love. And so, I bring to mind what Lady Lot said: ‘Yet this I will tell you for nought: blunt half of your arrows, for you will need them. . both to kill and to not kill.’ Roel, we did not understand what she meant when she said it, yet I deem this is a time to ‘not kill.’ Hold my horses, and I will defeat this dreadful dog.” Roel took the reins of Celeste’s mare, and she strung her bow and fetched her quiver of arrows and nocked a blunt-pointed shaft.

As she stepped forward, Roel said, “ ’Ware, cherie, for

’tis said his bite is deadly poisonous.”

Celeste paced toward the monstrous beast, and snarling, it charged, yet even as the princess flinched, Cerberus came to the end of its massive chain.

As it roared in frustration, Celeste drew the blunt arrow to the full and aimed and loosed, the shaft to hiss through the air and strike the middle head between the eyes, and that one fell unconscious. The remaining two howled and tore at the pave trying to get at her, yet the chain held, and Celeste nocked a second blunt arrow, and she let fly again, and once more the shaft struck between two of the creature’s eyes, and this time the right-hand head fell stunned.

Yet baying, the dog drew hindward a step, and again Celeste loosed an arrow, but Cerberus dodged aside, and the missile glanced off his shoulder. But the next one struck between the third head’s eyes, and the dog fell stunned, though like a deadly whip its tail yet struck out toward her in rage. Celeste moved ’round to the flank, though she remained beyond the reach of the long, Dragonlike lash. Another blunt arrow struck at the base of the tail, and it, too, fell limp.

Even as she dashed forward, she cried, “Now, Roel, before it regains its senses!”

Past the monster Roel ran with the animals, the horses snorting and shying in terror, but nevertheless following his lead. As for Roel, he cried out, his voice tight with fear, “Celeste, get away from that beast!” But even as the dog was rousing, Celeste ran to Cerberus and she snatched up her five spent arrows, and then she darted onward. The snarling monster lurched to its feet and lunged after, its fangs bared and snapping. And it missed her by a mere hand’s breadth as Celeste fled beyond the reach of its chain.

She ran to Roel, and he embraced her trembling form. And with his voice filled with distress, Roel said,