“Well, I like to pay my debts. What can I do?”
“See that selfish girl hiding in there? Please pry her out of those rocks.”
Still holding the Old Man of the Sea, Hercules picked up the huge boulder and tossed it away like a pebble. He lifted the girl and brought her face to face with Nereus.
“Oh, Hercules,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you’ve come …”
“Iole! Dear dear girl, what are you doing here?”
“I came to warn you against him. He’s a liar. He’s been paid to lie to you. Whatever he told you, you’ve got to do the opposite.”
“No, she’s lying,” whimpered Nereus. “She’s lying faster than she can talk. Wicked wicked wicked girl! Are you trying to get me killed? Take it back! Please …”
“Sounds like the truth to me,” said Hercules.
“No, Hercules, no!” cried Nereus. “She’s just trying to get me in trouble.”
“She’s succeeding.”
“No, no. Please listen …”
“I listened to you before, didn’t I? And you chose to tell me lies.”
“I didn’t, I didn’t. I’m so honest, it’s unbelievable. Let me go, and I’ll give you a bushel of pearls.”
“Too generous, Nereus.”
Lifting his arm high, he slammed Nereus feet first into a flat rock with such force that the Old Man of the Sea was driven into the rock like a nail into soft wood. But he was immortal for all his ugliness, so he could not die, although driven so deeply into the rock that only his mouth remained unburied. And his lips opened and closed, sucking little creatures from the tide, the first sea anemone.
Hercules was left holding Iole, who was looking up at him, smiling through her tears.
“Your face is dirty,” he said gently.
“Put me down.”
He set her on the ground. She raced down the beach to a tidal pool and washed her tear-stained face. Then Hercules sat on a rock. She snuggled in his lap, and he stroked her hair.
“How did you know about Nereus?” he said. “And how did you get here?”
Sitting there under the morning sun with her head against his shoulder, she told him all about the Blind Man, and how she had left Thebes and wandered with the old prophet, and what he had seen in the vision, and how she had ridden the dolphin to the island of Ner to warn Hercules. She also told him that she had decided not to marry him after all.
“That may be just as well,” said Hercules. “I think I’ve promised to marry someone else.”
“Who?”
“A princess named Dienera. Her father is king of Calydon.”
“Why did you? What’s she like? Where did you meet her?”
He told her about his fight with the river and cleaning the Augean stables.
“You don’t have to marry her just because you saved her, you know. Do you love her?”
“Well, she asked me that too, and I told her I didn’t know. She says it doesn’t matter because she loves me enough for both of us.”
“That’s nonsense, of course.”
“Perhaps, but she began to cry, and the only way I could make her stop was by promising to marry her.”
“How about your promise to me?”
“You’re not old enough yet.”
“I’m growing fast. Don’t you notice how much taller I am?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ve got to break your promise to me or to her. You promised me first.”
“Didn’t you just tell me you’d changed your mind about the whole thing?”
“Well, I might change it again. I have time before I’m old enough.”
“But she’s old enough now, you see. And when I tell her anything she doesn’t want to hear, she starts to cry.”
“I can cry too, you know.”
“But you won’t, will you? You’re my brave girl who saved me from the Hydra and came here to save me from the lies of Nereus. You’re the bravest smartest girl in the world; you’re no cry-baby.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t feel just as sad as that weepy princess. Maybe even sadder.”
“How about my brother, Iphicles. He’ll wait for you if I ask him. He’s a good little chap.”
“I don’t like little chaps. I like them exactly your size.”
“He’ll be king of Thebes one day. Wouldn’t you like to be queen?”
“Not a bit—unless you’re the king.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t be any good as a king. I don’t like to tell people what to do.”
“Let Dienera marry your brother. She sounds like she’d enjoy being queen.”
“Say, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll discuss it with her as soon as I get back with the apples.”
“Don’t tell her it’s my idea. Tell her Iphicles has fallen madly in love with her and can’t eat and can’t sleep because he’s thinking of her all the time. And that he has asked you to find out if she prefers diamonds or rubies or emeralds, or all three combined.”
“That doesn’t sound like Iphicles.”
“What’s the difference? She won’t know that. You just tell her exactly what I told you, word for word.”
“I’ll never remember it all.”
“I’ll write it down for you, and you must memorize it. You don’t really want to marry her and make me very sad, do you?”
“Truth is, I’m not ready to be anybody’s husband yet. I have too much fighting left to do.”
“Absolutely. And in a few years you’ll have wiped out all the monsters in the world and be ready for other things.”
“Unless one of them wipes me out first.”
“I suppose you won’t take me with you to the Garden of the Hesperides?”
“No, Iole dear. I can’t take you there.”
“Good-by then. Remember, do everything just the opposite of what Nereus said.”
She waded out into the surf, whistling. The dolphin slid in on a wave, and Hercules watched as she mounted the creature and rode away toward the horizon.
HADES ASKS FOR HELP
HADES, RULER OF THE Dead, was in a bad mood. His demons had just taken a ghost count in the Land beyond Death and had told him what he did not want to hear: his kingdom was not growing as fast as it should. He decided he’d better do something about this and set up a meeting with his brother, Poseidon, god of the sea; his nephew Ares, god of war; and his sister, Hera.
It was to be a secret meeting, because he didn’t want Zeus to know anything about his plans. So they couldn’t meet on Olympus, and his own kingdom, Tartarus, was too gloomy; no one wanted to go there. But Poseidon invited them to meet in one of his undersea grottoes, where Zeus couldn’t see them, and where they would be served a delicious seafood dinner by green-haired water nymphs.
They met in the great grotto, which had glass walls so that they could see the giant turtles, the octopi, the gliding sharks, the blind slugs, and all the curious creatures which dwell at the bottom of the sea. The chamber was full of filtered green light and was very quiet.
“Sister, brother, nephew,” said Hades, “I need your help. My kingdom isn’t growing fast enough. People are living too long. We just can’t depend on natural causes any more. So the favor I must ask divides itself into three favors.
“You, brother Poseidon, please whistle up some dreadful storms, not just the kind that wreck a few ships here and there, but real killers, you know. Enormous tempests, hurricanes, typhoons—the kind that blow whole cities away. Tidal waves that will wash over an entire island, drowning everybody. A month or two of such weather will do wonders for me …
“You, Ares, you know, of course, what I want you to do. There’s been much too much peace lately. It’s breaking out everywhere. Go down with sword and shield and plant the seeds of hatred. Make people fear each other, make them attack each other. Not just private duels—I want you to hurl whole nations against each other. Tell lies, start rumors, go from one side of a border to the other, any border, killing people on both sides, so e
ach country will blame the other for the murders. Then plant the idea of huge armies in the minds of kings, and since big armies can’t just sit at home eating their heads off, they will be sent to attack each other, and we shall have our wars, bloody ones, with fields full of corpses and shoals of souls to fatten my realm. Between your fire storms and Poseidon’s water storms, hell will prosper again.”
“I’ll be glad to do what I can,” said Ares.
“What you have asked me will mean a lot of bother,” said Poseidon, “but I know you will help me when I need it, so I agree.”
“Why have you called me here?” said Hera. “I am queen of the gods, it is true, but I can do nothing that Zeus would object to. And he would dislike this plan of yours very much, Hades. For some reason, I don’t know why, he likes that pesky race called humankind and seeks to protect them from harm.”
“Sister and queen,” said Hades, “I know that you do not share your husband’s strange affection for humankind. Nevertheless, without meaning to, you have been helping him help them.”
“What do you mean?”
“In your hatred of that gigantic young Hercules, you set him to fighting monsters all over the world. I know that your intentions have been good, I know that you have wanted to destroy him, but instead he’s been destroying these monsters. And for every monster that he kills, he is saving thousands of people, whom the monsters used to devour. So far, he’s wiped out the Nemean Lion, the Hydra, the three-bodied Geryon, and a flock of Spear-birds.”
“Not to mention two of my finest sea serpents,” grumbled Poseidon.
“He’s been very lucky, so far,” said Hera. “I have no doubt that Zeus has been giving him secret help. I can’t prove it, but it must be so.”
“Whatever the reason, dear sister, you simply must kill him before he kills any more monsters and saves any more people.”
“He’s on a journey now,” said Hera. “And this one should really finish him off. He’s trying to steal golden apples from the Garden of the Hesperides. Now, my tree there is guarded by a giant serpent named Ladon, an enormous thing, dear Poseidon, which makes your two serpents look like earthworms. If, by any chance, he should escape Ladon, then Atlas will get him. Hercules is big, but he’s no match for the mountain-sized Atlas, whose temper is very short, because he’s tired of holding up the sky. And if, by some miracle, he should escape Atlas also, there is another fearsome giant awaiting him in Libya. But I don’t think he’ll get that far.”
“Terrible creatures, you describe,” said Hades. “But the Nemean Lion and the Hydra and the octopus were supposed to be deadly, too, and you know what he did to them. What I’m asking, dear Hera, is for you, personally, to make sure he dies before the month is out.”
“I can’t kill him myself,” said Hera. “Zeus would find out and would punish me very painfully. I’ll have to do it through someone else.”
“Well, get someone intelligent, not a stupid monster,” said Hades. “Use someone he won’t suspect. Do it by treachery. And supervise every step of the murder yourself.”
“Brother,” said Hera, “one way or other, Hercules shall die before the month is out. Upon my oath as queen of the gods, it shall be done.”
“Farewell, I’m off to start some wars,” said Ares.
“As soon as you’re gone, I’ll see about those tempests and tidal waves and things,” said Poseidon.
“Brother, sister, nephew,” said Hades, “I thank you all. Do your worst, that’s all anyone can ask.”
THE GOLDEN APPLES
IT WAS A HILLY ISLAND. Meadows ran right down to the water’s edge. Deer and wild horses came down to the sea to swim. Towering above all was Atlas, snow-bearded, with huge misty eyes, holding the sky on his shoulders. If you didn’t know about the Titan, you would think he was a mountain.
Fruit trees grew thickly in the orchard, and Hercules searched for a long time before he saw the golden apples flashing among dark green leaves. He came closer, stepping carefully, waiting for the serpent to show itself. Then he saw it and stood there, amazed.
He had heard that Ladon would be wrapped around the tree trunk, but the serpent had unwrapped itself and was coiled in front of the tree. It raised its head as Hercules came near—at least, he thought it must be its head because he saw two eyes. Otherwise, the serpent’s body ran right into its head; its jaws were hinged at the tail. In other words, Ladon was a quarter-mile of living mouth lined with teeth.
“Well,” said Hercules to himself, “how in the world am I expected to get past that monster? What did Nereus say? ‘Honey to the snake.’ But everything he said was a lie, wasn’t it? And it doesn’t really seem that I could buy off this beast with a dab of honey. What shall I do, though? He’s too big to strangle. No blade will pierce that leather hide. I can’t use my poison arrows and spoil all the fruit of the orchard and poison the rivers and streams of this beautiful island. ‘Honey to the snake.’ Nereus was a liar, but the best liars always throw in a tiny bit of truth to make their lies sound good. Honeycomb, bees … Perhaps I’m getting an idea.”
He backed away from the serpent and angled off into the woods searching for a dead tree. He reached in and pulled out a beehive and hung it from his belt. The bees buzzed angrily. They swarmed out in a black cloud and settled on his chest and shoulders, stabbing with their stingers. But his skin was too tough; the stingers broke off. The bees crept back into their hive. He searched for other hollow trees. When he came back to the orchard, his belt was hung with buzzing cones.
He walked slowly toward Hera’s tree. The serpent saw him and opened its jaws. Hercules was looking right down a quarter-mile of pink and black gullet set with ivory knives. The jaws slithered toward him. He took a hive from his belt and, aiming carefully, threw it straight into the jaws, through the hedge of teeth, and saw it travel down the gullet to the jaw hinge at the serpent’s tail.
One by one, he pulled the hives from his belt and hurled them into the yawning gullet. The serpent, drunk on the smell of honey, closed its jaws. But it wasn’t only combs being crunched. The bees were in there too, and bees make a peppery dish. They swarmed out and thrust the wicked little hooks of their tails into the serpent’s palate, the only place on its body not covered by leather hide. It was like eating fire.
In instant agony, Ladon uncoiled with the force of a thousand steel springs. High, high into the air went the serpent, tail flailing. Hercules held his oak-tree club, waiting. The serpent turned in the air and came plunging down at him. He swung his great club, smashing it into Ladon’s body, splitting it open, shattering its fangs. Bits of ivory and honeycomb rained down on the meadow, and the body of the serpent, squashed like an earthworm by a gardener’s spade, fell into the sea and sank out of sight.
Hercules walked toward Hera’s tree. He reached for an apple. Thunder spoke out of the clear sky.
“Stop, thief!”
He dropped his hand. He knew it must be Atlas speaking, and he remembered that he would have to meet the Titan before he could take the apples. He walked through the orchard and made his way to the other side of the island where Atlas stood. Here he saw the heavy blue bowl of the sky pressing on the shoulders of the Titan. He stood at the giant feet and looked up, up toward the snowy beard and the vast misty eyes. He heard the voice rumble again.
“Off with you, little thief, before I start an avalanche and bury you under a ton of rock.”
“I’m no thief,” said the young man. “I do not steal. I take. I am Hercules.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve been standing here for a thousand years, waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For someone strong enough to hold up my part of the sky while I take a little rest. The name they spoke was Hercules.”
“ ‘They’ are mistaken, whoever ‘they’ are,” said Hercules. “I haven’t come here to hold up any sky, but to pick some apples.”
“One little stamp of my foot and a
ton of rocks will roll down on you,” said Atlas. “So you won’t get very far with your apples.”
Indeed, just at that moment, a huge boulder came rolling down the slope of the Titan’s thigh. Hercules had to leap away or he would have been crushed beneath it.
“That was just a sample,” said Atlas.
“All right,” called Hercules. “I’ll make a bargain with you. If you let me have an apple or two, I’ll take your place for a little while.”
“I agree. I agree. Take the sky.”
“But only for a very short while. I’m supposed to be strong for a human being, but I’m no Titan, you know. If I take the sky from you, you must take it back quickly.”
“Agreed, agreed,” said Atlas. “Are you going to stand there talking about it for another thousand years? Climb to the top of that hill there, and I’ll pass you the sky.”
Hercules climbed to the top of a nearby hill and called out, “Before I take it, just tell me in plain words how long you’ll be.”
“Not long, not long. I just want to stretch my legs a bit. I’ll run across to that orchard, pick your apples, and come back.”
“Do you promise?”
“Upon my word as a Titan—Titans are older than the gods and much more honest.”
And Atlas, moving swiftly for something so large, lifted the bowl of the sky from his shoulders and set its rim on the shoulders of Hercules. His knees sagged. He felt them sagging. He felt his spine crumbling. But he couldn’t bear to show any weakness. Pride became a steel rod running from his soles to the top of his head, stiffening his backbone. His knees locked. Thighs and legs bunched like rock, welding him to the mountain top. He stood there, hunched, muscles writhing, stood there on the mountain top holding the sky on his shoulders.
Atlas skipped over the island, trampling trees and blowing eagle nests out of the cliffs with the wind of his laughter.
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