"Very well, very well, you damned upstart. You can have her - but only during the winter months, mind you. The moment I'm back - you're outta here."
"Not a moment longer." Dionysos laughed. "Just be sure to have the temple fixed by winter."
Apollo merely grunted.
To celebrate, Dionysos made several large amphorae of his best wine appear. He handed his brother a cup overflowing with the rich red Lesbian vintage, and Apollo carefully lifted it to his lips. The scent of it was intoxicating, like nothing he had had before, and he drank deeply of the cup. He felt warmth spread through his body, and despite himself, his lips broadened into a big grin. Dionysos lifted his cup in toast, and then turned back to his followers.
From their packs, the Satyrs broke out their drums and pipes, and the Nymphs, Muses, and Maenads shucked their linen robes for the flowing, silky robes of the Bacchante. As Apollo watched, the lithe young maidens began to dance, graceful steps and twirls and claps. The Priests and Priestesses of Delphi began to mingle with the motley members of Dionysos' thiasos, and before long, the whole mountain was filled with the sounds of celebration. Dionysos waved over the Muses, saying, "I'd like you to meet someone," and the nine beautiful Goddesses giggled and blushed and slid up against Apollo. Apollo swallowed hard, took a sip of his excellent wine, and thought to himself, "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having Dionysos around after all."
Copyright Sannion, 06/25/02
All Rights Reserved
Posted with permission