by R.N. Decker
Eagerly Kharon said to the ferryman, “How much to cross the river?”
The ferryman grinned. “If you help with the poling it won’t cost you anything.”
“No?”
“No,” said the skeletal thin owner of the ferry. “I am getting too old for this job, and it has taken its toll on me. I just need help to go across. I have no one to hand over the job. No sons or grandchildren, so I must make do.”
“Agreed!” said Kharon eagerly. It was his chance to grab some of the gold on the other side. And for nothing. Since leaving the palace and his family for another excursion into his kingdom, at least that’s what he’d told them he was doing when he left, he hadn’t stopped for much rest. Pax had told him how to get here and he was eager to find the gold. The only problem he’d come across was in two small towns just a few days back. The first one nearly had him hung for not obeying the guards when they told him to move on. He was their king, he could go where he chose. In a miracle of eluding the archers, he’d narrowly escaped with his hide. And the second town, just a couple miles away, over the nearest rise from the river had sentries posted on the walls and wouldn’t allow him to come near. He had no choice but to keep moving. He knew it didn’t matter however, when he got back from collecting the wealth that was rightfully his, he’d make sure to take care of both places. An army at their doorsteps would take care of any problem.
Kharon got aboard the small vessel. It was more a barge than a ferry. And it was shaped differently from any boat he’d ever been on. The hull was like nothing he’d ever seen before, sloping at each end with skulls as masts on both ends. And the bottom of the flimsy craft felt like it would give way at any moment.
When the king got to the prow of the boat, the ferryman handed over his pole. Without thinking Kharon grabbed the pole and shoved it in the water, the metal end touching the bottom of the river, preparing to cast off from the shore.
And that’s when the ferryman stepped off the ferry onto dry land.
Part 2
The Curse
Kharon saw all of this from the corner of his eye. Turning quickly he shouted, “Hey, what’s the idea? You said you’d take me across if I helped you.”
The ferryman paid the shouting king no heed. He was looking around the shore and at the nearby path leading away from the water as if he’d never seen it before. In a croaked voice he said, “I am free.” Tears were slowly coursing down his thin cheeks and onto his chin. His sobs slowly rising and falling. He gave a tremendous hitch in his breathing as if he couldn’t find any air, and finally began to laugh.
Kharon came to the bow of the boat, about to step off himself and confront the man . . .
Kharon found something in his way. Or more like he felt something in his way, because he couldn’t see it. Whatever it was. He couldn’t go any farther than the end of the ferry, a wall or barrier had stopped him from leaving the small flimsy craft.
Kharon pounded on the wall, or shield, or whatever it was, shouting thunderously, “What is this maddening thing? What’s going on?”
The ferryman looked back at the king. With a sly smile on his face, he inched his way toward the horse Kharon had just got off. Before mounting, the man explained a few things to the new ferryman. “That is why I could not get off that damnable boat. Every time I tried, a wall or some force kept me on it. But now . . .”
Kharon screamed at the man on his horse. He saw he was about to simply ride away. “Where are you going? That is my horse. You have to help me. I am your king.”
The once-ferryman laughed. “No, you are no one now. It matters not who you once were. You have taken my place on that cursed ferry. Now, it is my time to go.”
“Wait,” shouted Kharon, still pounding on the wall he couldn’t see. “Who are you? What is this sorcery?”
“I,” said the stick-thin man on the horse, “was once a noble by birth. Many centuries ago of course. My name is Cerberus, and I was known as the three-headed dog. The skulls on the boat belonged to my two companions who were as loyal as dogs to me.”
Kharon looked to the two skulls at the bow and prow of the small craft. When he first saw them he thought they were simply wood carvings, but upon closer inspection, he saw they were indeed actual skulls. The empty eye sockets of each stared through him, as if seeing into his foul soul. He screamed at the man on his horse. “No!”
Cerberus continued. “I was cursed by the Witch of the forest to ferry men across the river to meet their fate. On the other side is Hell’s gate, and the Father of Lies. I have been searching for an answer on how to get out of this curse from the beginning. And by chance, or fate, a young lad came to cross the river, and he found the answer for me. For the price of passage himself. And now that you hold the pole in your hands, the means to steer the boat back and forth across the Styx, you are the ferryman.”
Kharon pounded on the shield once more and cursed. A lad? A lad came to cross the river? Pax!
Cerberus slowly turned the horse and headed away from the ferry and the shouting man.
Kharon’s bellows could be heard for many minutes afterward.
Looking about him, Kharon slowly came to the realization he would never see his beloved wife again. Or his daughter. Or his life.
“Curse you!”
“Pax!”
Part 3
Kharon
To cross the River Styx
One must pay the toll.
The soul that comes
The soul foretold,
Of its final resting place.
In the end
All must pay,
Pay the Ferryman.
###
Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed it. I also want to wish you all a happy reading experience with my next endeavor, coming soon. A major novel of epic proportions.
Thanks
R.N. Decker
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Appendix
1) {1} Bon Odor - taken from the oriental word bon or O-bon, meaning the Japanese Ghost Festival.
2) Pax - Said to be the Roman Goddess of Peace.
3) Ajatar (also spelled Ajattar, Ajattaro, and Aiatar) - Said in Finnish folklore to be the Mother of the Devil, and also interchangeable as the Grandmother of the Devil. She is an evil sprite who suckles serpents and spreads disease and pestilence and makes men sick.
4) Europa - In Greek mythology, she was a Phoenician woman of high lineage for whom the continent of Europe was named.
5) Tyre - In Greek mythology, a warrior who fought and died in the war between Perses and Aeetes.
6) Asine - Town in Argolis, Greece, destroyed in ancient times.
7) Miletus - Town in western Turkey abandoned in ancient times.
