Cupid (13 page)

Thomasina could not believe what she was hearing.
Cupid wanted her to be his wife? She would be the owner of all those jewels, that palace, and invisible servants to do whatever she wanted.

She ran to her husband. "My lord, I have sad news. My sister has arrived to tell me that our parents are dead. I must go home at once."

Her husband agreed, of course.

Thomasina hurried away and ran past Psyche, who was still standing in the doorway. "Thank you, Sister, for being so dumb," Thomasina said, as she stepped outside.

Immediately Favonius swept Thomasina up and carried her to the mountaintop. But this time, he left her there.

A sharp and cold wind arose. It was Aquilo, North Wind, who had come at the bidding of Favonius. Aquilo blew with all the malice he had learned from the lord of the underworld, and before Thomasina knew what was happening to her, Aquilo swept her off the mountaintop and she fell down the steep mountainside. The sharp rocks and crags cut and slashed her body. She was dead before she reached the bottom.

Then Favonius carried Psyche to the mansion where her sister Calla lived. Psyche told the same story to her. Calla had the same thoughts and said the same words Thomasina had. Favonius carried Calla to the mountaintop and she met the same fate as her sister.

Favonius thanked Psyche for her help; she thanked him for his. Then she continued on her way.

When we last saw Cupid he had just given Psyche a little self-righteous lecture and was on his way to Olympus. But he kept looking back at Psyche, lying in the grasses where she had fallen. It was all he could do not to turn around, go to her, and apologize for being such a fathead. He was surprised that he still wanted to be with her. He had thought his leaving would punish her for not obeying him. Only now did he realize: by leaving he was also punishing himself.

As much as he wanted to return to her, he couldn't. Well, he could have, but he was acting like a stubborn boy, unable to admit that he had made a mistake. He thought it would show weakness if he went back to her. Even worse, he was afraid that if she found out that seeing her in pain could make him change his mind, she would be in control of the relationship. He could not allow that.

Why had she ruined things? It had been a perfect relationship. He had given her more riches than any mortal had ever seen; he had given her servants to wait on her. Every night he had made love to her. Why hadn't all that been enough?

Now he had to face Venus. How could he explain going against her wishes? He couldn't. There was no justification for disobeying his mother.

When Cupid reached Olympus, he landed in a large
field near the palace he shared with Venus. He looked for signs of activity but saw nothing. Perhaps she was away. He hoped so. All he wanted to do was go to his chambers, get in bed, and go to sleep. He was not feeling well.

But he was a god, and gods did not get ill, though what else could he call the pain he felt in his abdomen, the aching in his head, not to mention the general malaise that had come over him? His spirit felt heavy, as if he were lying beneath the ground, unable to move and, strangely, without any desire to. What he really wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry.

He made his way slowly to the palace. He peered in windows until he found his mother, in her chambers, receiving a massage from Oizys. The goddess of pain smiled as she watched Cupid hurry to the other side of the palace, where his chambers were.

When he reached his rooms, he took off his bow and quiver of arrows. Then he lay on his bed, and despite his resolve not to, he began to cry.

The goddess of pain and misery was one of the most attractive of the deities. She had long reddish-brown hair, eyes as green as new grass in early spring, and thin, delicate lips. She always dressed in beautiful gowns and chandelier earrings that matched whatever she had on. Given
that she was as beautiful as any of the other goddesses, with the exception of Venus, she resented that there were no stories about her as there were about practically all the other deities.

But she knew why. How could there be stories about someone whom the other deities avoided? Mortals knew that Oizys walked among them, because all of them had been deceived by her appearance and ended up in situations that promised happiness but delivered pain and misery.

Venus was the only deity who would have anything to do with Oizys. That was because Venus did not mind the pain of Oizys's massages, even when it seemed like Oizys was going to break a few bones.

While Oizys was grateful that Venus appreciated her services, she also resented the goddess of love. How could she not? Mortals adored Venus, wrote poems and sang songs about her. They thought love was the greatest of experiences. But where would they be without pain and misery? It was pain that forced them to look at their lives, learn from their experiences, and grow. Even in their love relationships, they had to be made miserable by the absence of a beloved before they learned the value of that beloved. But did people dedicate temples to her? Were there priests and priestesses performing rituals in her honor? Were dances choreographed to her glory? No, no, and no!

This was why she never passed up an opportunity to make Venus miserable, like when she had told the goddess
about Psyche. But she had something even better in mind today. All she had to do was manipulate Venus into asking her about it.

Oizys poured warmed and scented oil on Venus's back and began to rub it in with sure, strong strokes. With each stroke she sighed deeply.

"Are you all right, Oizys?" Venus asked quietly.

"Who, me? I'm fine."

"Then why are you sighing like something is wrong?"

"I apologize, Goddess. I did not know I was sighing."

Venus turned over and looked at Oizys, concern in her eyes. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me."

Oizys shook her head. "I am grateful for your concern, Goddess, but it is nothing. Please. Turn so I can give you a good, deep massage."

Venus shook her head. "Not until you tell me what's bothering you."

Oizys sighed again, this time more deeply than ever. "I hesitate to do so. I am afraid you will be angry with me when I am nothing more than the messenger."

"This is something that concerns me?" Venus said, sitting up. "Speak, Oizys. You have my word. I will not be angry with you for being the bearer of news I should hear, whether I like it or not."

Oizys was smiling to herself. How easily the goddess had taken the bait. "If you insist."

"I insist."

"Very well." Still, Oizys said nothing.

Venus was getting impatient. "What were you going to say?"

"Excuse me, Goddess. I was thinking of how to put it."

"Just say it. Im not someone who needs to be coddled."

"Well, what I report may or may not be true. It is what I have been hearing as I go about every day. There seems to be a scandal in the Venus household. I am here almost every day and I have seen no scandal, but this is what is being said."

"Be specific. What scandal are you talking about?"

"Have you seen your son recently?"

Venus did not want to answer. She had not seen him in quite some time. "Well, no," she answered reluctantly.

"Ah. Then perhaps it is true."

"What's true?"

"The rumor is that Cupid is having an affair with some young woman. He is with her every night, and during the daylight hours, he is thinking about her. As a result, mortals are not falling in love with each other, or breaking up, for that matter. Those who speak of such things are saying that you have neglected your temples and they have fallen into disrepair. Because neither you nor Cupid are carrying out your duties, husbands and wives no longer care for each other; people ignore their friends and their children. Pleasure, Grace, and Wit are disappearing from societies. Mortals are becoming less and less capable of knowing, or even caring, about beauty. If beauty is dethroned from its place in the hearts of mortals, they will find it repulsive to express even the slightest affection for each other, and chaos will engulf them."

Venus had heard little after the first sentence. "My son has a lover, has he? Who is it? One of the nymphs? Or, maybe one of the hours—Auros, perhaps. No, not her. She has more lovers than she has time for. Perhaps one of the muses. No. Apollo would not permit one of them to take up with my son. It couldn't be one of the graces, could it? No, they are my attendants. Neither he nor they would dare! Do you know who it is?"

"I am not sure, Goddess. I know what I heard but I found it hard to believe."

"What did you hear?"

"Well, they are saying that your son has fallen madly in love with a mortal named Psyche. Isn't she the one you told your son to make miserable?" Oizys asked innocently.

"What?" Venus roared, getting off the table. "My son and Psyche! How dare she take my son from me!"

"Oh, Goddess," Oizys said sweetly. "Don't upset yourself. It is my understanding that your son will return to you with your first grandchild."

"What!" Venus exploded. "She's pregnant? I don't believe it! I refuse to believe it, and I won't believe it until I hear it from Cupid's lips and his lips alone." She stopped. "Is that why I have not seen my son of late? Has he been
avoiding me? If he has been seeing that Psyche behind my back, it's not surprising that he doesn't want to see me. Where could he be?"

"I believe he might be in his chambers," Oizys offered sweetly.

Venus dressed hurriedly and went to the other side of the palace and into Cupid's chambers. He was lying in bed, the blanket pulled up to his chin, staring at the ceiling.

"You!" Venus roared. "How dare you disobey me! How dare you take up with the very woman mortals think is more beautiful than I am. How dare you fall in love with my enemy. I don't understand what got into you. Don't you know that I can ask Jupiter to take that bow and those arrows from you, have another son, and make
him
the god of love?

"I should have known better than to trust you. All you've ever thought about is doing what you want to do. Say something! Explain yourself!"

But Cupid just lay there, depressed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Say something!" Venus yelled.

Cupid said nothing.

"Very well," Venus said under her breath. "Keep quiet, because there is nothing you can say that would justify what you've done to me. But it's my fault, all my fault. I indulged you all your life. You've been a brat since the day you were born. You've enjoyed destroying relationships and getting people to fall in love with the most unsuitable persons on
the planet. You made a fool of Apollo, not to mention your poor mother. Well, now it's your time to rue what you've done. You allowed yourself to fall in love with the woman who dared usurp my position in the hearts of mortals. When I get done with her, you'll be sorry you dared disobey me."

Venus hurried away from Cupid's chambers and out the door of the palace. As she rushed toward the center of Olympus, where she knew she would find the other deities, she noticed people snickering as she went by. It seemed that all of Olympus had known about Cupid and Psyche, everyone except her! How dare they make fools of her!

When she reached the center of Olympus, she saw her mother-in-law, Juno, the wife of Jupiter and goddess of women, and her aunt Ceres, the earth goddess.

"Venus," said Juno, "you look so angry. A scowl like that can ruin your beauty."

"Juno. Ceres. You are just the two I came seeking. If you tell me what I need to know, my beauty will be preserved."

"Please tell us what is troubling you," Ceres replied.

"Would you happen to know where I might find a mortal creature named Psyche?"

Juno and Ceres put their hands before their mouths to hide their smiles, but Venus noticed.

"I see you have heard of her and the scandal she has brought to my family by her affair with Cupid."

Juno patted Venus lightly on the shoulder. "My dear. You must not take such matters so seriously. What harm has
been done? Surely, you, of all people, cannot consider it a crime for Cupid to make love with a beautiful young woman."

"Oh, I know how hard it is to see one's child grow up," Ceres added. "In case you hadn't noticed, Cupid is no longer a boy. He's a young man, and it is only right that he should be curious about young women, and what young man, even if he is a god, could resist someone as stunningly beautiful as Psyche?"

"Ceres is right, you know," Juno put in. "She and I were talking about the situation last night. We found it strange that a woman of your vast experience and knowledge would be sticking your nose into Cupid's life in this way. What he does is his business now."

"And, surely, you can't believe that what has happened has been all Psyche's doing," Ceres added. "Cupid had as much, if not more, to do with this than she did."

"To be honest, Venus, you should be ashamed of yourself. You take such pleasure in arousing others to love. Do you really want us to believe that you want to deny your own son the same pleasure?"

Juno and Ceres were not being totally honest. They were afraid to say anything negative about Cupid lest he shoot arrows into them. They were not going to risk his ire by telling Venus where Psyche was.

Venus was more angry now than before, and she walked away without a word.

Psyche had been going from town to town looking for Cupid without success. On this particular day, she was walking through the countryside when she saw a temple high atop a steep hill. Thinking Cupid might be there, she made the arduous climb and went inside.

She was surprised to see sheaves of wheat, ears of barley and corn, scattered across the temple floor. Perhaps the strong winds of a storm had blown the offerings from the altar.

Psyche thought this must be a temple devoted to the worship of Ceres, the goddess responsible for the fruits of the earth. Hoping the goddess would take pity on her and tell her where to find Cupid, Psyche began cleaning up, sorting the offerings into groups and arranging them neatly.