11
The Bovines of Bybanos
MJ Butler
Viewed in one direction, the Celestial Hall was everything Zeus desired.
Three ivory thrones decorated in gold rested between hand-carved columns atop the polished marble floor.
The problems started when he turned around: three additional thrones fought for space as the walls converged into an open doorway barely large enough to squeeze through.
Less a grand hall and more a twelve-foot-long triangle. And while the ceiling displayed an exquisite mural depicting their victory over the Titans, it hung so low that Zeus’s head was inches away from his painted one.
He began to doubt his decision to have the Cyclopes build the Hall, given their lack of depth perception.
“A toast . . . ” Zeus raised his cup to his brothers and sisters. Poseidon sat nearest him, while Demeter, Hestia, and Hades sat bunched together on the opposite end, shifting positions when their legs bumped together. “. . . to our new home. Mount Smolikas.”
“My brother, this is Olympus,” Hades said.
“Oh, I thought . . . ” Zeus’s voice trailed off as he looked at Hera’s empty throne.
Crap. He had told her it was Smolikas.
He imagined her standing on a mountainside in a Celestial Hall consisting only of scattered rocks. While it would be far less cramped, she wasn’t going to return happy.
“Yes, of course. Mount Olympus.” Zeus waited for everyone to raise their cups then took a drink of nectar. “Also, Hera won’t be making it. She had a thing.”
Poseidon leaned forward. “Now down to business. Deciding who will be god of what.”
“Yes . . .” Zeus said. “You, Hestia, are the eldest. You should be the goddess of the hearth, representing family and the home.”
Hestia considered this for a moment then smiled.
Zeus turned to Demeter. “You should be goddess of the harvest. Each season’s crops will succeed or fail based on your favor.”
Demeter nodded. Zeus decided this was going well.
“Hades, you should leave our heavenly palaces to be god of the Underworld, a dark, desolate realm devoid of joy and hope, where you will remain for all eternity, accompanied only by the miserable souls of the dead.”
Hades looked up from admiring the gold trimming on his armrest. “Um, wait . . . what?”
“Poseidon, you struck at our father with your trident. It’s only fitting you be god of the sea.”
“Can we get back to my thing for a second?” Hades asked.
“As for myself?”
Zeus paused to savor the moment.
“I will be god of all gods, ruling over each of you with Hera as my wife. Okay, good meeting, everyone.”
Zeus smiled at his new subjects. They stared back at him, speechless, no doubt because they were impressed by his wise decisions. He stood to leave.
“Just hang on a moment,” Poseidon said.
Zeus sat back down. “What is it?”
“It just seems like . . . we’re getting the lesser of the deal here.”
“Yes, why are you deciding all of this, anyway?” Demeter asked.
Zeus frowned, confused. “Well, I’m god of the gods. Why wouldn’t I decide?”
“But you’re the one who made yourself that.”
“Also, as your sister, Hera might object to marrying you,” Hestia said.
“Well, she should have bothered to show up, then.”
At the front of the Hall, two servants struggled to bring a statue Zeus had commissioned of himself through the too-small opening.
“All of ours have something to do with who we are,” Hestia continued.
“Mine doesn’t,” Demeter said. “What the Hades do I know about crops?”
“Really? ‘What the Hades?’” Hades turned to Zeus, frowning. “Well, that certainly didn’t take long.”
Hestia pointed to Zeus’s nectar. “You are fond of fine cups! You should be . . . the god of ceramics!”
Zeus glanced down at his cup for a moment then back to the group. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m good with being god of the gods. But thanks.”
Demeter turned to Hestia. “What of his glorious tunic? Surely, he should be the god of wool and/or linen!”
Zeus was starting to think this wasn’t going well after all.
“No, that doesn’t scream ‘me.’ I’m going to stick with the god of gods. That’s me. God of the gods here.”
“While I used my trident, you struck down Cronus with a thunderbolt. What if you were . . . the god of sky and thunder?”
Now this was worthy of consideration.
“Yes . . . yes, I like that.”
Zeus grabbed the metal thunderbolt he had resting against his throne, stood, and held it above his head. “I shall be . . . the god of sky and thunder!”
His brothers and sisters also stood, applauding.
“And the king of the gods!”
Poseidon slumped back into his throne. “Oh, so now he’s two unrelated things. Great.”
“Is that possible?” Demeter asked. “Can I get a second thing?”
Hades raised his hand. “Can I just trade mine out for the god of ceramics?”
King Leotis stood on the rocky promontory, examining the scroll detailing all of the gods and their domains. When he was a young king, he could hold the unraveled scroll himself. In the decades since, the number of gods flourished due to a breathtaking amount of incest and occasional bestiality. Now the papyrus stretched out ten feet, requiring four servants to hold it. There had been only two last year, but a strong wind transformed the scroll into a sail and blew the servants far into the Aegean Sea.
As ruler of Bybanos, it was vital he knew each god and their domain. This was a lesson he learned when his father, the former king, was murdered by an angry Philophrosyne for not remembering she was the goddess of friendliness and kindness.
He turned to his entourage standing next to the statues of the two most important gods to Bybanos. As a fishing port, Bybanos depended on the good will of Poseidon for its economy, and as a sister city of Athens, Athena was its protector.
It was the new statue of Athena that brought them there. The old statue had fallen into disrepair from the ravages of time and weather. Leotis searched all of Greece to find an artist who could sculpt a new statue that would please Athena. The sculptor now stood proudly next to his creation.
He nodded to the sculptor, who then covered the statue. “Surprise” was something that pleased the goddess. He knew because it was written on the scroll.
Leotis raised his hands heavenward. “Blissful and merciful Athena, come, for you are revered gloriously.”
“Who summons me?” a voice boomed from the sea. It sounded both male and female at once, a voice born of thunder.
“It is King Leotis. Great Athena, the city of Bybanos wishes to honor you with a new tribute to your likeness.”
“It looks like Poseidon.”
The king turned to the two statues, the still-covered Athena resting next to the Poseidon. “No, I meant the—”
“What do you mean ‘no’? It’s clearly Poseidon, right down to the trident.”
“If you would allow—”
“Cut off the sculptor’s hands and have him fix it.”
Leotis walked to the covered statue and removed the cloak. “Behold . . . ”
“Ah, yes, I see. That’s much better.”
Leotis turned back to the ocean. “Then you are pleased?”
“Yes. Now cut off the sculptor’s hands.”
The king looked to the sculptor, whose smile had dropped. “But . . . I thought you were pleased.”
“I am,” came the reply from the ocean. “But I’m also infallible, even when I’m wrong. So I can’t rescind any of my commands. Cut off his hands and have him make the Poseidon one look like me.”
“Does . . . it have to be in that order? It would be difficult for him to change the statue once—”
“You’re questioning my infallibility? You must now also reaffirm your allegiance to me by having all men in the city change their name to ‘Athena’ in my honor.”
“Wouldn’t it be more fitting for the women to—”
“I’ll check back on the statue in a month.”
Everyone stood to receive Athena in the same spot one month later. The Athena statue remained as it had been, but the Poseidon had been crudely changed, with the amputated artist standing next to it. It didn’t resemble Athena as much as it did an unfinished version of the statue that did. Helpfully, a sign reading “Athena” rested at its base.
The king raised his hands heavenward far less confidently than he had in the previous month. “Blissful and . . . mostly merciful Athena, come, for you are revered gloriously.”
The booming voice returned from the distance. “Who seeks council with the gods?”
“It is I, King Athena, formerly King Leotis, ruler of Bybanos. We wish your approval of our new statue.”
“This is Poseidon, not Athena. Do I sound like Athena?”
The voice sounded exactly like Athena.
The king shook his head. “Um . . . no.”
“What have you done to my statue?”
“Athena . . . she asked us to alter it.”
“That accursed woman. Defiling my statue is an act of war! I will wipe your town into the ocean unless a sacrifice is made.”
“What shall we do, great Poseidon?”
“Wait, did you say your name was Athena?”
“Yes.” The king motioned to the other men in his entourage. “She also had the men in our town change their name to hers in a show of allegiance.”
“Everyone named Athena is to march into the ocean.”
King Athena looked to Athena, worried. All of the Athenas look concerned. Particularly Athena.
“And each Athena is to lead oxen into the sea,” the voice continued.
“Could we simply slaughter the oxen? It would be very difficult to get them to—”
“Into the sea! I’ll check back later.”
Queen Peletta and her newly promoted female entourage stood on the rocky promontory. It had been weeks since the hundreds of men of Bybanos marched over the cliff into the sea, each with a cow or bull in tow, and the track marks from the great struggle were still visible.
The queen hesitantly raised her arms heavenward. “Blissful and . . . somewhat merciful Poseidon, please bless our nets with plentiful fish. Our city starves as we have far too few oxen to plow our—”
She was interrupted by a booming voice in the distance. “What was that about Poseidon?”
“Oh, hello great Poseidon. Thank you for gracing us.”
“I’m not Poseidon. Do I sound like Poseidon?”
The voice sounded exactly like her late husband’s description of Poseidon.
“Why . . . no.”
“Poseidon retired. I’m the new god of the sea.”
“Well, let us know your name so we can now sing your praise in prayer in his stead.”
“It’s—” The sentence was interrupted by thunder erupting.
The queen looks to the others. They all shook their heads. No one else heard it either.
She turned back to the sea. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”
“You dare have me repeat myself? I said my name is—” Once again, thunder erupted over the name of the new god.
The queen looked to the ground, nervously. “The town of Bybanos welcomes you, oh—” She covered her mouth and said something unintelligible that sounded much like “arrggbytoonie.” Then she uncovered her mouth. “—new god of the sea.”
“I am pleased with your statue of me next to Athena. It’s a perfect likeness.”
Peletta looked to the crude statue that didn’t look like a person or god but more an abstract celebration of marble. Her steward helpfully stepped sideways toward it and put her foot over the sign reading “Athena” at the bottom.
“What town is this that fights sea battles with cows?” the voice asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“All of the dead people and cattle in my sea. Have your cattle mastered ship building? It looks like it was evenly matched.”
“No, your predecessor commanded—”
“I see my first duty will be to settle this conflict you have with your people-cows. Bring forth representatives of both man and cattle so that I may mediate. You have an hour.”
Within the hour, Peletta and her people had led a cow up the cliff with difficulty, but not with as much difficulty as pushing each one off the cliff had been. She and the cow were each given five minutes to plead their case. The queen argued passionately why humans needed to rule in order for the town to function. The cow was mostly silent during her allotted time until the final few seconds when she mooed.
The new god decided in favor of the cows.
“All positions of power in Bybanos will be turned over to them immediately,” the voice said. “No action will be taken without the verbal consent of your cow overlords.”
The former queen looked to her new queen, who was chewing grass, then back to the sea. “Oh most powerful . . .” She paused when she remembered she didn’t know the new god’s name. “Oh most powerful Most Powerful. Surely this would lead to the economic collapse of our town . . . the starvation of our people . . .”
“If you find this arrangement unsatisfactory at this time tomorrow, return here and summon me. You may do so—”
Detritus looked down at Bybanos from her Olympian palace. “—by saying my name three times. Again, it’s—” She picked up one of Zeus’s plundered lightning bolts and threw it into the sky above Bybanos. “That is all.”
“What was that about?”
Detritus turned to see Debris had entered. “Nothing. I intercepted a prayer meant for Athena from a town called Bybanos a couple of months ago, and I’ve been messing with them ever since. I even got them to deface a statue of Poseidon.”
“Poseidon won’t like that,” Debris said.
“No. When he finds out, he’ll send the women into the sea to join their men. And cows.”
“Cows?”
“It’s not important.”
Debris pointed to the one remaining lightning bolt. “Don’t you worry our father Zeus will miss his lightning bolts?”
Detritus waved it off. “No worries. Our father was away impersonating one of the bulls in Byblos once he knew the men were gone and it was ladies’ night.”
About the Story
I don’t know much about Patricia Pooks Burroughs.
Other than that time she pulled me out of a burning building. Since then, she’s been all “Hey! I know you! I pulled you out of that building!” And I’m all, “OKAY! I GET it! I’m thankful for you saving my life, but can we get over it already?” This story makes us even.
After I chipped the polish on two nails dragging you to safety? I think not.
The Editor