"I'm going to Hades," said Benito grimly.
"Hades?"
"Apparently where this cult sent Maria to."
"You mean Hell?"
"They say it isn't the same at all. Just the Kingdom of the Dead. Except that she is alive in it. I want to bring her home."
"Are they telling you the truth?" Manfred asked doubtfully.
Benito shrugged. "It's a chance I'll take. I'll try anything. The nymphs seem quite earnest about it. The entry is on the Greek mainland. The Byzantines are nominally at least in control, but I can get a fishing boat to take me across without causing any upset, I reckon."
"I will accompany you," Erik said firmly. "For two reasons, Benito. One is that you've come with me, and been my spear carrier, and borne me away on my shield when I needed that. The other is that I also lost someone precious. I would give anything to see her again. Anything at all."
Benito took a deep breath. "I don't know, Erik. I don't know if they'll allow it. And even if you do find Svanhild . . . she is dead, my friend. Maria is somehow alive down there. They tricked her into this. I'm going to get her back if I can."
Erik smiled sadly and put a hand on Benito's shoulder. "I know this. But you must understand. Even if the chances are tiny, we must take them. Even if I can only speak to her, I will accept that. The loser must accept what terms he can get. And Svan . . . there were so many things I still wanted to say."
Manfred lumbered to his feet. "Well, I have to tell you this. This time, you're not—either of you—going off on this without me."
"I cannot permit it. It is too risky," said Erik, automatically.
Manfred squeezed his shoulder. "Erik, you are my bodyguard and my friend. But the dangers of the halls of the dead don't relate to the body. The dead don't touch the body. They can't. What they can damage and destroy is the mind and the heart. To be honest with you: Your mind and heart are a lot more fragile than mine."
"You don't have a mind to damage, above your belt," said Erik grumpily, a spark of his old self asserting itself. "But I cannot take that chance."
"I'm not actually giving you the choice, Erik," said Manfred with simple finality.
Benito realized, then, just what power rested in the House of Hohenstaffen. The Emperor ruled millions in the Holy Roman Empire . . . but it wasn't just because of being in line to the throne that Manfred could speak so. Erik had always seemed to order Manfred around. For his own safety and good, of course. But when he wanted to exercise it, ultimate authority rested with Manfred. It always would.
"We'll have to do this quietly," said Manfred. "Or I'll have to go through this pointless argument with everyone. Organize it, Benito."
"The Acheron? You want the Nekromantio Arheas Efiras?" asked Spiro. "Don't do it Beni'," he said, for once in earnest. "That's a bad lot of fakes that. They prey on the fact that if you've lost someone—you're miserable. Easy victim. They're parasites, bloodsucking ticks. Once someone's time comes; they're gone." He put a hand on Benito's shoulder. "Come and have a drink with me and talk it out. I'm buying this time."
Benito was touched. Spiro's ability not to pay for wine was as legendary as the fact that he would never be serious. Now he offered to do both.
"Thanks, Spiro. Not this time. And I'm not going to the Nekromantio. Maria was taken before her time. I have talked to the nonhuman waterfolk. They say there is a way that I could go, on a lake called Acheroussia. And neither you nor anyone else can stop me. Apparently if it isn't my time, the Lord of the place can't touch me. Of course, he might not help either."
"Well, we'll take you. Land you quietly. The truth is the Byzantine officials aren't locals and the locals aren't about to tell them about a fishing boat from Corfu. A Venetian galley would be another matter."
Benito nodded knowingly. "Exactly what I thought. So: Can I hire a passage over?
Spiro nodded. "Taki will say yes."