by Joe Corcoran
him, he saw the first glimmers of daylight from up ahead. He had been thinking hard about how he could meet up with Hercules in Tartarus and he had a plan. Before the first rays of light touched him, he bent down and tucked a large emerald into the top of his boot, then he walked on. As soon as the last cow had emerged into the evening sunlight, there was a crashing, roaring sound and the entrance to the Underworld collapsed, leaving Iolaus no way to rejoin Hercules and blocking Hercules’ way back to the surface.
Meanwhile, Hercules was making better progress. The Ceryneian Hind, having been freed from the burden of leading the cattle, was enjoying being able to run at full speed. Hercules bounced along in the chariot behind, and the tunnel walls flashed by. The noise of the wind as they passed was loud enough to drown out the voices of the tempting shadows, and he stared straight ahead, enjoying the ride. At about the same time as Iolaus reached Troezen, the chariot emerged into a huge cavern. Through the middle of the cavern ran a broad river and on the far bank Hercules could see many shimmering figures moving this way and that. He urged the hind forward, and brought them to a halt beside a thin, mean looking man who stood on the bank next to a rickety old rowing boat.
“Ferryman,” said Hercules, throwing him a coin, “I need you to take me across the river.”
The thin man caught the coin and examined it with interest before biting down hard on it, showing his ragged and yellowing teeth. Once he was satisfied that the coin was real, he made sure he put it away carefully before answering Hercules.
“Now, you see, I can’t do that. Hades is very clear that I am only supposed to take dead people across the River Styx and, no offence, but you look quite lively … and there’s no refunds neither,” he added quickly.
Hercules said nothing. He simply looked at the man, flexed his enormous muscles and scowled. It was such a ferocious scowl that the ferryman quailed and stammered and brought his hands up, as if to shield himself from the force of it.
“Mmmaybe I could make an exception, just this once,” he stuttered. Then, recovering himself a little, he added, “but just you, not the animal or the chariot. This is a passenger ferry, it’s not for cargo.”
Still Hercules made no reply, but climbed into the boat and sat ready to go.
Although the ferryman was skinny, the river wide and the boat quite rotten, the trip to the far bank was smooth and quick. As Hercules leapt to the shore, many of the spirits who were there recognised his lion skin cloak and were frightened off on account of his fearsome reputation. Soon the panic spread, and in only a few moments the area was clear except for two spirits that had stayed behind. Recognising one, Hercules immediately covered his eyes and drew his club. He had seen the spirit of a woman, tall and beautiful, but with a serpent’s tongue, and with snakes instead of hair. It was Medusa, the gorgon, whose look alone could turn a man to stone.
“Fear not,” said the other spirit, “for the dead cannot harm the living.”
Hercules did not trust him at first, but looking up he saw that this was the spirit of a man, clad in bright armour and carrying a hunting spear. Etched into his breastplate was the symbol of a boar’s head.
“I know you,” said Hercules, “you are Meleager, the brave and just hunter.”
Thus reassured Hercules looked straight at Medusa. Amazed to find himself unharmed, he was nevertheless entranced by her beauty, and by the hissing dance of the snakes on her head. Medusa smiled at Hercules, who stood riveted to the spot. Meleager broke the strange spell by clearing his throat.
“Time passes more slowly here than in the world under the sun, but it passes nonetheless,” he said, “I know of your quest and I would beg to be allowed to guide you to Hades’ castle.”
Back in the daylight, Iolaus was driving Geryon’s cattle towards the walls of the city. There was a stable there, where he hoped to be able to leave them while he went to help Hercules. Now the sun had almost disappeared below the horizon, and he was afraid he wouldn’t make it before nightfall. Desperately he tried to persuade the cattle to move faster, but after their long trip through the Underworld all they wanted to do was to stop and eat grass. Iolaus gave a last whoop of encouragement and a last wave of his arms and then the sun was gone and all was darkness. Strangely, the light had disappeared instantly, with no dusk to mark the passage from day to night, and Iolaus had to look carefully around himself to get his bearings. Peering back the way he had come, Iolaus was sure that he could see a patch of air that was darker than the rest. It shimmered and moved towards him, seeming to have a purpose. The shimmering darkness stopped right in front of Iolaus, and slowly transformed into the figure of Hades.
“Were my instructions not clear?” Hades asked as he stared into the young man’s eyes, “did I not say to take nothing from my realm?”
Iolaus was too frightened to make any reply, but he was brave enough to hold Hades’ eyes.
“Very well,” continued the Lord of the Underworld, “as you offer no defence, I will pass judgement as I see fit.”
Now he seemed to notice the cattle for the first time, who had continued to graze and wander around as if nothing unusual were happening. Hades admired the cattle briefly, then returned his attention to Iolaus. He strolled around the boy, looking him over.
“You have taken something from me,” he said, “so now I will take something from you. Don’t worry, I won’t take anything valuable, just your spirit.”
And with this he touched Iolaus gently on the top of the head and Iolaus felt a tingling run from Hades’ finger down to the tips of his toes.
“Now, follow me,” commanded Hades.
“And what if I don’t,” said Iolaus, suddenly not frightened, and in fact, quite angry.
“You’ll find it quite difficult to stay here without a body,” replied the Lord of the Underworld, and he pointed to the ground. Iolaus looked down and saw his own body lying on the grass at his feet, eyes closed as if asleep. Then he looked at his hands, and was surprised to see they were pale - almost white. When he held them in front of his face he found he could see right through them.
“Now,” said Hades again, “follow me.”
Iolaus, in his new spirit form, trailed mournfully after his new master. They walked across the fields until Hades seemed to find a spot he recognised. Waving his hands in complicated patterns through the air, the Lord of the Underworld issued a command in a strange language that Iolaus didn’t understand. Straight away the ground opened up and revealed a rough flight of steps leading into the darkness under the earth. They followed these down, and Iolaus found himself once more in the tunnels of Hades. Except these tunnels seemed different. Smaller and less well used, they gave the feeling of being a secret way, a back door, and Iolaus was careful to memorise every step and every turn of the journey. Sure enough they soon descended into an enormous cavern, and the whole of Tartarus was laid out before them. The path they followed was steep and hugged the wall of the cavern, so that it would be hidden from anyone looking from below. It gave Hades a way to enter or leave his kingdom without having to cross the River Styx. From the bottom of the path it was a short journey to Hades’ palace, where he explained to Iolaus about his new life.
“You are to be my servant … at least until I tire of you. Your main duty will be as my cup bearer. It is not a very difficult job and over time I may find more challenging tasks for you, but for the moment it will do.”
Then Hades handed Iolaus a set of clothes. They were plain and simple, with no colour to them apart from the emblem of a black helmet on the smock.
“Put these on so that everyone will know that you are in my service. Do not forget to wear them whenever you are outside the palace or you may be mistaken for a lost soul by my demon guards. I don’t think you’d like to find out what the punishment is for getting lost around here.”
Meekly Iolaus put on the uniform. He then paused in thought for a moment before saying, “As I am now your servant, I feel it is my duty to tell you that you are going to be robbed.”
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Hades stared at Iolaus in utter disbelief, but the young man found the courage to continue.
“Your brother Zeus has commanded Hercules to come to Tartarus to steal your dog. They intend to teach you a lesson and prove to everyone that Zeus is the greatest of the gods.”
Fire flashed in Hades’ eyes as he heard what Iolaus said.
“How dare they! In my own realm I rule completely. I am invincible. I will find Hercules, I will kill him and I shall deliver his body back to Olympus. Then Zeus can lay it on the couch he has prepared for his favourite champion, and everyone will see how he is weak and I am strong.”
Hades turned to go, but Iolaus stopped him.
“For someone as powerful as you, that would be a simple thing to achieve,” he said, “but these people have dared to invade your home. Unless you humiliate him completely and for all time, who is to say that Zeus won’t try this again.”
“What did you have in mind?” said Hades slowly.
“Zeus intended to steal your dog, you should steal his champion,” said Iolaus, “get Hercules to stay here with you, for all eternity, not as a spirit but as a living being. And make him do it of his own free will. Who will doubt your power when you have taken Zeus’ champion from him?”
Hades and Iolaus left the palace and set out to