The Dolphin Rider

by Bernard Evslin

  “Well,” said Apollo. “We have managed such matters before. It seems to me we can handle this quite easily. You and I shall go there at twilight, when the sun and moon don’t need us to drive them. With my golden arrows, I shall kill this Prince Cadmus. And you, with your silver arrows, will rid yourself of Princess Europa.”

  “Just what I had in mind!” cried Diana. “You always speak my thoughts, beloved twin. Let us go there this very evening.”

  “Agreed,” said Apollo. “Now I must be on my way. I have driven my chariot so high, that the earth is shivering this summer day.”

  Brother and sister parted. But they were not to meet at dusk for their deadly errand. As it happened, the West Wind had heard their conversation. Knowing that Zeus would be interested in their plans, he flew off to Mount Olympus to tell his story. When Zeus heard what the West Wind had to say, he grew very angry. He sent his messenger to summon the twins. Apollo and Diana stood before the throne of Zeus, who looked sternly down upon them and said, “Listen well and do not answer. Simply obey. I want no harm to come to Princess Europa or her brother, Cadmus. Know this, oh twins! I, your father, Zeus, have looked about the world from my place here on the mountain top. Wherever I looked I have found no one as beautiful or as good as the Princess Europa. I intend to make her my mortal bride. Man has grown slack and weak and cowardly. He is generally displeasing to me. I mean to breed a new race of heroes to lead mankind. And Europa will be my mortal wife. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Father,” said Apollo.

  “And you, Diana. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, Father,” said Diana. “And I shall obey you in all things.”

  “Go then, good children,” said Zeus. “Off to your tasks. Let the sun and moon ride the skies, bright with my favor.”

  Apollo and Diana hastened away, thankful that they had only been scolded by Zeus, not punished, for his anger was terrible.

  Now on the eastern shore of the Inner Sea at that time, the grassland ran right down to the water. On this day, Europa and her friends were picking flowers and weaving them into garlands. She was a lovely, spirited, playful girl, and she took an enormous pride in being descended from mighty warriors. She loved tales of adventure, and admired courage beyond all things. On this summer morning, she wished she had something more exciting to do than weave garlands. Therefore, when a huge white bull suddenly appeared in the meadow and started browsing and the other girls shrank away, Europa cried out, “Oh, what a beautiful bull! What are you afraid of? If anyone dares me, I’ll ride him!”

  “No, princess!” cried her companions. “Don’t try to ride him. He’s too fierce.”

  “Fierce? Nonsense! Look at those big gentle brown eyes. Very well, if no one else dares to ride him, I will.”

  Then Europa seized a garland of flowers and ran toward the bull. Now she did not know it, but this bull was Zeus himself, who could take any form he desired. You see, it is very dangerous for the gods to appear before mortals in their godlike majesty and divine fire. Sometimes mortals are burned to cinders by this fire, and Zeus did not wish this to happen. Therefore, he changed himself into a white bull.

  Europa wound the garland of flowers about the bull’s horns, then leaped on his back and dug her heels into his side to make him gallop. He galloped through the meadow, past the meadow, through fields and groves. He did not even stop at the edge of the sea, but breasted the tide and swam away with Europa. Bull and rider vanished over the horizon. Europa tried to fight her fear, tried to bite back her sobs.

  “Please,” she said. “Swim back with me now. Take me back, please. Otherwise, my brother, Cadmus, will come hunting for you, and he will kill you.”

  But the bull kept swimming. It was a perfect day. Light danced on the waves. Europa sat comfortably on the bull’s broad back, holding on to its horns. She stopped sobbing and began to enjoy the adventure. No girl, she thought to herself, had ever traveled so far, and no girl in the world would be able to match the tale she would have to tell when she finally returned to her father’s court. But she never returned.

  When her frightened companions ran back to the palace and gasped out their story, the king was furious. He raged and stormed. His son, Prince Cadmus, was even angrier. But he did not waste his time in a fit of temper. Within an hour he had called up a crew, rigged out his ship, and was sailing out to sea, determined to find his sister if he had to search every corner of the world.

  Indeed, he searched the whole world over. He went as far as he could in every direction. He traveled to the very edge of the world in the east, where the people eat only tangerines and do everything as slowly as they can. They ride giant turtles and when they have races, the one who comes in last is the winner. When he asked these people if they had seen his sister, Europa, it took them several days to answer his question. But when they had finished answering he knew she had not been there.

  He went as far as he could to the south where the sun chariot swings low over the scorched brown sand. Here the people’s hair grows out of their heads in the shape of parasols to protect them from the white-hot spokes of the sun wheel. At night the stars flare like torches. Tempers sizzle in the heat, and men fight each other with curved knives. Several parasol-haired men attacked Cadmus with their knives when he asked about his sister, but he fought them off. His sword was a blade of light as he whirled it in the sun, cutting down his enemies like grass. They fled, leaving their wounded on the sand. One of them moaned, saying, “Do not kill me, bright prince, and I will answer your question.”

  “Answer, then,” said Cadmus. “Have you seen my sister, Europa, a lovely girl, riding on the back of a white bull?”

  “We have seen no such princess,” said the man. “As for a bull, we don’t even know what that is. There is no animal by that name in this part of the world.”

  Cadmus knew that the man was telling the truth, so he left the southern edge of the world, and traveled north as far as he could. It was so cold there that the people were dressed completely in furs. They even wore fur masks so that all you could see were their eyes. When they spoke, the words froze in the air and fell tinkling to the ground, breaking up into letters — and Cadmus had to read their answer. It was the same answer. “No. We have not seen your sister. We have not seen the white bull.”

  Then Cadmus traveled westward — to a completely unknown part of the world. He sailed to the edge of the earth, to its western rim. Here was the Garden of the Hesperides, where Hera’s golden apple tree grew. There he saw an astounding sight. A giant, tall as a mountain, with white hair and a white beard, was holding the world on his shoulders. It was Atlas, punished by Zeus for making war against the gods. Atlas was forced to hold the earth and the sky on his shoulders until the end of time.

  The apple nymphs who guarded Hera’s golden apple tree were very pleased to see Cadmus. They did not often see strangers in that part of the world, and they made the prince welcome. They fed him fruit from the orchard, and they sang to him. But they too had the same answer: “We have not seen your sister, nor have we seen the white bull.” But they had a piece of advice for him. “You will need more help than we can give,” they told him. “This theft of your sister sounds like some high matter of the gods. You must go to someone very wise, someone who knows the plans of the gods and can read the future. You must go to the oracle at Delphi, and ask what you want to know.”

  Cadmus thanked the kindly nymphs and set sail once again, eastward. He came to the land of Greece. There, on the slope of a sacred mountain, stood the white marble temple to Apollo, called Delphi. In caves within the mountain dwelt the priestesses of Apollo. These wise women, called oracles, could sometimes read the future, if asked properly.

  Cadmus went down into a cave and there found a woman so old that her skin looked like the bark of a tree. But her eyes were very bright. She sat on a three-legged stool holding a staff of hazelwood. Cadmus bowed to her and said, “Greetings, priestess. I am Cadmus, prince of the East. I seek
my sister, the Princess Europa, who was carried away by a white bull. I have searched the four corners of the world and can find no trace of her. I come to you, priestess of Apollo, wisest of women, to ask your help.”

  The old woman peered into his face. Then she raised her staff and tapped sharply on the rock floor of the cave, crying,

  Mountain, steam!

  Send me my dream!

  Steam hissed suddenly out of a crack in the floor, wrapping itself about Cadmus and the old woman. Cadmus kept perfectly still. When the steam cleared, he saw that the old woman was asleep. She mumbled something. He bent to hear. The words came more clearly:

  Fear not for your sister’s life.

  A god has taken her as wife.

  “What god, Mother?” cried Cadmus. “Which one?”

  But the old woman spoke no more, and seemed to slip into a deeper sleep.

  “God or mortal — no one steals my sister!” cried Cadmus. “If you will not tell me who, I shall search among the gods themselves!”

  He slipped a golden band off his arm and tossed it into the lap of the old woman. Then he rushed out of the cave. Outside, in the April morning air, what had happened in the cave seemed like a dream. Yet Cadmus knew he must guide himself by the old woman’s words.

  “I’ve often heard,” he said to himself, “that these soothsayers speak in rhymes and riddles. Her answer was in rhyme, but it seemed clear enough. No riddle there. A god has stolen my sister. Very well, I shall visit the gods.”

  He decided to visit Vulcan first. The god of fire had built himself a workshop inside a live volcano in Sicily. There Cadmus went. He climbed the mountain and descended into the smoky crater. The place was full of sooty shadows lit only by the red volcanic fires.

  Cadmus stared in wonder at the fire god. He was so huge that he seemed to fill the great crater. His enormous span of shoulders and broad chest were knotted with muscle. He wore a leather apron and swung a hammer, the handle of which was the trunk of a tree. The head of the hammer was a single lump of iron larger than a boulder. Vulcan swung this gigantic sledge as if it were a tack hammer. He hobbled from forge to forge, for he was lame, looking over the work of the one-eyed Cyclopes who were his helpers.

  Cadmus could hardly make his voice heard through the hammering and clanging. He leaped up on an anvil as Vulcan came near, and spoke into the god’s ear!

  “Oh, Vulcan,” he said. “Mighty smith, god of mechanics and inventors, forgive me for interrupting your labors, but I have a question I must ask you. Were you the god who changed himself into a white bull and ran off with my sister, Princess Europa?”

  Vulcan’s great laugh was like the clanging of hammer on anvil. “What need have I for a mortal wife? I am married to Venus, the goddess of love herself. She is all the wife I want. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go question Neptune? This whole affair seems more in his style somehow.”

  “Thank you, great Vulcan. I go to seek Neptune.”

  “Before you go, I have some gifts for you. You’re a bold one, and I admire courage. Here are some things you may find useful on your adventures — a helmet of beaten brass which no battle-axe can dent, though swung by a giant. And here is a shield of polished brass. No sword or spear can pierce it. And see, it is polished more brightly than any mirror so that you can flash the sun in your enemies’ eyes, confusing them. And take this. The first two gifts are for defense, but a hero must go on the attack. Here is a sword of thrice-tempered iron that can cut through armor as easily as shears through a piece of cloth. Watch this!”

  Vulcan swung the sword and struck an anvil, splitting it cleanly in two. “Farewell, Cadmus. Proceed on your quest. Use my weapons well, for it is my guess that the time is coming when you will need them.”

  “Thank you again, lord of metal. I promise to treat your beautiful weapons with the honor that is their due.”

  Cadmus climbed out of the volcano, went down to the shore, and gazed out upon the purple sea. He wondered how he could sink to its depths without drowning and find Neptune’s castle. Then he saw a wonderful thing — a boat made of coral and pearl drawn by twelve dolphins who were swimming so fast that the boat only skimmed the top of the waves. In the boat stood a tall green-clad figure wearing a crown of pearls, carrying a three-pronged staff, called a trident, made of bright gold. She was so tall and beautiful that Cadmus knew she was a goddess. He fell on his knees, crying, “Welcome to you, beautiful goddess… whoever you are.”

  “Who I am is wife of Neptune and goddess of the sea,” she answered.

  “I must speak to your husband, goddess. I have a question to ask that he alone can answer.’

  “I know your question, Cadmus. And I know the answer too.”

  Cadmus rose from his knees, and stared at Neptune’s wife in surprise. She smiled, and her smile was like light over water. “Are you surprised that I recognize you, and know of your quest? Word gets around very quickly among the gods, my boy. There aren’t many mortals bold enough to seek us out and question us.”

  “Tell me, goddess. Did your husband, Neptune, steal my sister?”

  “The answer is no. He did not. It is true that he is a master of sea-change, and full of wild moods. He would be quite capable of changing himself into anything and stealing anyone, but he did not take your sister. That I know.”

  “Thank you for your courtesy and kindness, oh queen of the sea,” said Cadmus. “Then I must seek my sister elsewhere.”

  “Try Mercury,” said the sea queen. “He is god of thieves, you know, and quite apt to steal anything. Besides, he is also god of commerce, gamblers, travelers, as well as being the messenger god. He knows everyone’s affairs. Even if he didn’t take your sister, he might be able to tell you who did.”

  “Thank you again, beautiful goddess. And grant me this last favor. Allow me to paint your wonderful green eyes on the bow of my ship so that their beauty may outstare all peril.”

  “You are a well-spoken young man,” said the goddess. “Paint my eyes on the bow of your ship. I shall look through them every now and again and assure you safe passage. Farewell.”

  The dolphins whirled the sea queen away in her little boat of coral and pearl, but Cadmus did not have to search for Mercury. The god found him. A huge shadow glided toward Cadmus across the beach. He looked up, expecting to see an eagle, but it was no eagle. It was a winged god who slid through the bright air and perched on a rock. A smiling young god, glittering with gold at head and ankles, and holding a golden staff entwined with golden serpents.

  “You are Mercury,” gasped Cadmus. “I was about to seek you.”

  “I know you were,” said Mercury. “We gods know what’s going on in the world, particularly when it concerns us. Besides, you have caused a great deal of talk on Olympus. Rare indeed is the mortal who dares to seek out the high gods and question them about their behavior. It is usually the other way around.”

  “I thank you for seeking me out,” said Cadmus. “Tell me then, great Mercury, divine messenger, was it you who stole my sister, Europa, to take for your mortal wife?”

  “No,” said Mercury. “It was not I. I have no wife and I do not intend to get one — goddess, half-goddess, or mortal. I travel far, and must travel light.”

  “Thank you, lord of distances,” said Cadmus. “Then I must seek elsewhere.”

  “No!” said Mercury. He had stopped smiling. His face was stern, and his voice cut like a whiplash. “No! You will question no more gods, Cadmus.”

  “I do not wish to quarrel with a god,” said Cadmus. “But I must seek my sister until I find her.”

  “Listen to me,” said Mercury. “You have been very busy among the gods. You have learned that neither Vulcan nor Neptune has kidnapped Europa. And you know that I did not steal your sister. So how many gods does that leave you?”

  “Hades,” said Cadmus. “But I shall not seek him in the underworld. I know in my heart that my sister is not among the dead. And there is Apollo.”

  “Do n
ot question Apollo. He would grow very angry at such a question. He is the sun god and his anger scorches. If you seek Apollo, you will be a cinder before you get your question out. Besides, I can vouch for him, it was not Apollo. Now who does that leave among the gods?”

  “But — ” whispered Cadmus. And he stopped, unable to speak the mighty name.

  “Exactly,” said Mercury. “Zeus! Father Zeus, king of the gods, whom we ourselves dare not question.”

  “But was it he?” asked Cadmus. “Was it he who changed himself into a white bull and took my sister as mortal wife?”

  “It was Zeus,” said Mercury. “You have been honored above all human families, for your sister has become the mortal bride of Zeus. She dwells now on Crete, the most beautiful island in the world. She is the mother of three sons, who will become mighty kings. They will build great empires and become the fathers of warriors and heroes. Europa herself is very happy, and would not trade her life for any other. Do not seek her further. Do not try to visit her on Crete. That coast is guarded by a bronze sentinel as tall as a tree. On the command of Zeus, he hurls huge boulders at ships that sail too near. Perhaps in time you will see your sister again, but not yet.”

  Cadmus felt the hot tears running down his face. But they were tears of joy, for he knew that his sister was safe and happy. “Thank you, great Mercury,” he murmured. “Thank you, god of messages. I can return now to the East. My father is old, and I shall soon be king.”

  “No,” said Mercury. “Your quest is not ended. You are part of the family whom Zeus loves. Your sister, Europa, has become the mother of kings. Her name will be given to the whole western part of the world. But you too are part of the plan. You must settle these new lands. If you have the courage and the strength and the wisdom, you will found a new kingdom, and build a great city. But first you will have to pass through the most dreadful peril that has ever been faced by mortal man.”

  “What must I do?” asked Cadmus, standing tall and proud before Mercury. “My heart is singing with joy and pride! If Zeus sends great perils to test me, so much the better. I can prove myself, and go on to whatever deeds he wishes me to perform.”