This story is a sequel to ‘The Huntress and The Horned One‘ and while I tried to write it as a stand alone I would suggest reading it first. Either way, I hope you enjoy!
“Kill The Horned One?” The Warrior asked incredulously. “Much as I would like to, he is a god. He can not be killed.”
“There is one way,” The Huntress replied.
“Make the mortals forget him,” The Warrior answered. “Not an easy task, they love him for his libidinous rites and sacraments.”
“Our cults could destroy his,” The Huntress answered. “How could horny farmers prevail against hunters and warriors?”
My Lady’s words hung in the air for a moment, the only noise we heard was Rhea nursing at her breast.
“That isn’t what I want,” The Warrior replied. “The humans go to war far too often over frivolous things. I will not inspire a war, even if it would be a virtuous crusade.”
“You have a better idea?” The Huntress asked.
“Capture him and bind him in a sarcophagus. We will hide that box and then we tell his followers that he is dead.”
“That won’t be easy, brother,” The Huntress replied.
“Which part, the capturing? The binding? Or the hiding?” The Warrior asked with an uncharacteristic laugh.
“All of it will prove difficult, so how do we do it.” The Huntress asked.
“First we would need Mother to fashion the sarcophagus and ropes, and then…”
“No!” The Huntress interrupted, her anger made me snarl as I felt it course into me from her. “It is bad enough that you are even part of this!” She glared at Raven.
“We need one of the Old Ones to make the sarcophagus and bindings. I assumed you would want to keep this in the family as much as possible, but we could probably find another if you wish.”
My Lady glared at him and I felt the anger ebb away from us slowly. “Is that the only way?”
“Do you know how to make god-containing relics? Because I don’t,” The Warrior replied.
“War would be easier,” The Huntress replied.
“War is never the answer,” I must admit The Warrior’s answer surprised me.
It must have surprised My Lady as well for she arched her eyebrow at his words. “Strange words from you, brother.”
“Who but the God of War truly knows the horrors of it? You speak of war so lightly, you are as much a fool as those mortals!” The Warrior said angrily.
“Fool?! You dare call me a fool, brother?” Had Rhea not been at her breast I’m sure that her bowstring would have been. My teeth were bared awaiting her command.
The Warrior stared at her, unafraid. “Are you going to rip my throat out with Her fangs, sister? To what end? I am a god like you, and The Horned One, a bite from Wolf would do less than little to me.”
I felt the unspoken command to stop snarling at The Warrior, and I obeyed. But it took some time for the anger My Lady and I shared through our bond to subside. After some time My Lady spoke, “after Mother fashions the sarcophagus and bindings, what then?”
“We trap him in it.” He said flatly.
“How?” The Huntress asked.
“How do you trap anything?” The Warrior asked.
“By exploiting its weakness,” The Huntress answered, “but what is The Horny Goats weakness?”
“Coitus,” The Warrior answered flatly.
“Many would consider that to be his strength,” The Huntress said with mirthless snark.
“Ones strength is usually their weakness also,” The Warrior said.
“I don’t think I like this plan,” The Huntress said. “I sense that you plan to fashion a trap and bait it with my cunnus.”
“Another weakness of The Horned One is his ego,” The Warrior began. “Send to him, thank him for his gift, tell him you wish to see him again.”
The Huntress stared at The Warrior. I could feel her disgust through our bond. I knew she would never agree to this plan. “And then what do we do?” She surprised me.
We hid some distance away, Raven, The Warrior and myself. Rhea slept in a crib fashioned of boughs and skins, and My Lady sat in a chair near by her daughter. She looked across the stream and I felt the hatred in her heart.
The Horned One came into the glade and sat on the rock. If he sensed our presence their with them he made no sign of it. “I received word that you wanted me again,” The Horned One said as he raised the pipes to his mouth…
“Please,” My Lady said, and it was strength that I felt through our bond.
The Horned One lowered the pipes, “please what?” He asked with an amused smirk.
“Not the pipes. I want a clear head. I want to experience you fully.”
The Horned One smiled in a pleased and flattered way. “I tell you what, you give me your bow and I’ll give you my pipes. Maybe we can teach each other to use them.”
I felt more than a hint of reluctance as The Huntress handed over her bow and took the pipes. She walked over to the crib and laid them beside Rhea.
“Before we…” The Huntress left it unsaid, “would you like to meet our daughter?”
“I’m sure she is just like the millions of other seeds I have sown,” The Horned One said as he waved his hand dismissively and with out making any attempt to move towards the crib.
A flash of anger so hot that I thought My Lady would forget the plan. Surely she would call me to her to rip his throat out and Raven to feast on his eyes.
But the call did not come to us. Still, she did not push the anger away. I could feel it within us. Instead she tuned it, turning it into a whet stone for her senses and her intellect. She focused on the plan.
“I want to try something new.” She said.
“Bored with me already?” The Horned One asked with amusement.
“Do this for me or leave my glade,” The Huntress said, and that wasn’t part of the plan. We weren’t supposed to let him leave at all costs. And here she was daring him to do just that. I was surprised me with her ultimatum.
“What is it you ask of me?” The Horned One asked, almost submissively.
“Let me tie you up,” The Huntress said, trying to sound seductive. She failed, for that language is foreign to her.
“Someone’s been talking to the nymphs!” He was laughing. “Sure, you can tie me up. We’ll make a game of it! Let’s see how long you can keep be bound against my will, and then I’ll tie you up!”
“Agreed,” The Huntress said. Knowing he would never get his turn. But still, I felt a shadow of doubt in her.
The Horned One laid the bow beside him, then standing he held his hands out before him, “make it good and tight, My Dear,” he said in a mocking tone.
“I’ll start with your feet,” The Huntress replied as she knelt before him. I felt the disgust and anxiety through our bond when her face came near to his phallus.
“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t want me to escape,” The Horned One chortled as The Huntress tied the rope just above his cloven hooves, joining one furry goat leg to the other. The rope seemed to be made of an infinite length as she coiled it thickly around him. Working her way upward she mummified him in the bindings. She hesitated when she reached his phallus. “Don’t stop now,” The Horned One said in a playful tone, “it’s starting to get interesting.”
She grabbed his phallus harshly by its shaft and folded it upward so that its head rested between his pectorals. “Hold that there,” she commanded.
“By your command,” he replied in a submissive tone and crossed his arms over his chest and erection. She continued coiling the rope around him and tied it off tightly at his neck. Then she pushed him over backwards. “Oh, I know why comes next. Do let me taste your nectar, merciful goddess!” He said it in an excited, almost pleading tone.
“Can you free yourself?” The Huntress asked.
“I can not, Goddess.” He answered.
The Huntress picked her bow and conjured an arrow. She stood over him and aimed at his nose and asked, “are you sure you can not free yourself?”
“I can not, Goddess,” he repeated. Though he sounded distressed this time and was clearly struggling at his bindings.
She released the arrow into his face. That also was not part of the plan.
Gah-eng-ha- The Horned One made a sound of stifling back a scream. “How did you bind me?! I am a god!”
“There are ones older than us, and ones older than them. The Titans of old knew how to contain unruly gods.”
“Is an amazing creature, I know,” The Huntress interrupted with an almost sadistic smile on her face.
“You may have caught me, but to what end? You can’t kill me, and it is only a matter of time before my cultist find me.”
“We will hide you where your cultist will never find you, and with time you will be forgotten.”
Fear and panic marked his face, somehow turning it uglier when he heard those words.
We put him into the sarcophagus. The thing was huge and heavy and it took 42 cherubs to carry it.
East, we traveled east. All of us, My Lady- The Huntress, Her brother The Warrior, Raven and myself traveled beyond our realms and we buried the sarcophagus beneath the mount and temple of the Monotheists One True God, the last place his cult could or would ever look for him.
Then we went down to the edge of the sea, and we all spoke out across the waves and across time. Calling to the one who would one day receive the message…
Thamus, are you there? When you reach Pelodes, take care to proclaim that the great god Pan is dead.