The Arms Of Hercules

by Fred Saberhagen

  "So it seems."

  "But he talks like a human being? And all you have to do is talk with him?"

  "That's the way I understand the business so far."

  "I was just wondering if maybe they expected you . . ." Enkidu didn't finish.

  "If they want me to pack the Minotaur in a crate and cart him off somewhere? No, listen, Enk, we'd better get this straight, once and for all." And I did my best to pass on to my nephew the information that Hermes had conveyed to me.

  When I had accomplished that, or thought I had, we were silent for a while. Then at length Enkidu said: "Corycus will be really different, though, won't it, Herc? If Lord Hermes said we don't have to kill anything there. How long are we going to stay?"

  "Not having to hit anything with a club will be a pleasant change, as far as I'm concerned. Not having anything trying to bite me will be even nicer. I don't know how long we'll stay."

  Again long minutes passed, and then my companion offered: "I wonder where Jason and his pals are now."

  I turned my head and looked out over the empty sea. "A good many miles west of here, I'd say. And getting farther away from us all the tune. It'll be all right with me if they just keep going, on and on, until they fall off the edge."

  "But wouldn't it be neat if they could see us in this boat? I bet we could run circles around the Argo."

  Even two passengers as ignorant as we were of seafaring could hardly fail to recognize how marvelous our Skyboat truly was. As we gained more experience of its capabilities, Enkidu was ecstatic, almost literally entranced, and went through spasms in which he seemed to be bubbling over with joy. "They gave it to us. They just gave it to us!" And he drove us swirling in circles on the surface of the great calm sea, while gulls went screaming past above us, never having seen the like before.

  "Just gave it to us? No. It represents a partial payment; weren't you listening?" My gaze went sweeping around the empty place where sky rimmed water.

  Finally I added: "And when we reach Corycus, Hermes will show up again and tell us there'll be more to it than talking. We'll be expected to do something else—something pretty difficult and dangerous. Now get us back on course."

  "Difficult and dangerous? What'll that be?" But he obeyed my order, as if reluctantly.

  "I don't know what, or why. All I do know is that the great god Zeus has never—never—paid any attention to me. Until only a few months ago. Then, good old Dad seems to have suddenly decided that the world is suffering from a plague of monsters. And that I, just one of his innumerable bastards—I suppose one of about a million that he's never even seen—I am just the one to clean it up. And to speed up the job a little he sent one of his helpers to give me a boat."

  "You can be scary, Herc."

  Despite the vaguely threatening aspect of the sky and sea when we set out, the weather actually remained fine for many hours. Evidently, if Poseidon did not belong to the cabal of gods who were supporting us, he had not become an active enemy.

  After we had been for a time out of sight of land, and of all other craft, I took a second turn at crouching over the compass-pyx (I almost had to drag Enkidu away, to get a chance) and with the aid of its powers called up a vision of our destination. This time I heard the sound of no invisible companion.

  Soon I discovered that it was sufficient for me to whisper the island's name while resting my forehead against the ivory box. On each trial the device showed me, behind my closed eyelids, a new view of the island, very slightly nearer than the time before but from the same angle.

  With a superb instrument like this, even a landlubber who had never used a similar device before had no trouble in navigation. When our course seemed well established, in a general southeasterly direction, I urged our new craft to full speed.

  I supposed we might even be able to go faster in the case of dire emergency.

  Even now we were going so fast that a white bow wave sprang into existence, and the small waves could be heard slapping the bottom in a regular rhythm as they raced beneath. On the rare occasions when we came in sight of other craft, I insisted that we limit our speed to something less than the apparently miraculous. Still, the cool wind in our faces was strong enough to tear our breath away.

  But now we had a vast open stretch of water all to ourselves. Dolphins appeared to challenge us, and raced along, but soon they, too, were left behind.

  As I have said, our destination was no less than two hundred miles from our starting point, but we made the voyage, straight across open water, in no more than half a day. When eventually a line of squalls blew up across our course, I took the compass-pyx with me into the tiny cabin. Our boat slowed its speed considerably, and with no human hand upon the helm maneuvered itself among waves to minimize their impact and the roughness of our ride. But still I thought that we were making steady progress.

  Soon we raised the mountainous, partially wooded spine of Corycus above the waves. The island was more than a hundred and fifty miles long, but very narrow. Only about an hour later we were cruising, at a much reduced speed, into the busy harbor of Kandak, the capital. It was clearly, as I had expected, much larger than any city I had ever seen before. Plainly visible in the middle distance was the sprawling palace, where less than a year ago, as everyone knew, young Queen Phaedra had ascended to the throne—I remembered how much excitement had been generated in Cadmia at the time, by news of the strange and violent events leading up to her succession.

  By the time we reached the mouth of the harbor, much of Kandak had come into view. Also in sight, adjoining the palace, were the outer walls of the famous Labyrinth, sprawling over what was claimed to be four square miles of land.

  Laborers and craftsmen of several kinds were at work, and folk with more leisure in their lives were strolling along the waterfront, but few took much notice of a small boat carrying a young man and a boy and looking utterly normal. Our sail put up a convincing show of being driven by nothing but the breeze.

  But one man at least had evidently been expecting us, for he came walking along the pier before we had finished tying up, and bade us welcome in the queen's name.

  We were hardly ashore before we learned that the gossip of current affairs on the island included considerable speculation as to whether Queen Phaedra might be going to marry. So far there seemed no certain answer to that question. People still spoke in hushed tones of the recent marriage of her sister, Ariadne, to the newest avatar of the god Dionysus.

  The guide who had been sent to meet us happened to glance back along the dock, as we were walking away, at the place where we had tied up the gift of Hermes.

  "What happened to your boat?" was his bewildered question. "It was right there, but now . . ."

  I could still see it, and Enkidu told me later that he could, too, though only as a kind of transparent wraith of a small boat. At the time, we reassured our guide as best we could, and followed him on.

  We were conducted first to the palace, where we had scarcely arrived before being told that Queen Phaedra had been informed of our arrival and was awaiting us impatiently.

  As Enkidu and I walked along, we kept half-expecting to catch a glimpse of the divine Dionysus somewhere; but then we were told that neither he nor his bride, the princess Ariadne, were on the island.

  The queen of Corycus received us privately. She was an attractive woman in her early twenties, with dark hair and a compact figure. The general assumption among her people was that she would not long remain unmarried, but naturally any match she made would have to be carefully considered.

  Given the prominence of some of our relatives in Cadmia, neither Enkidu nor I were utter strangers to royalty, or to the procedures expected of visitors at court. So we were not as completely awed as many youths of our age might have been; and the young queen seemed to go out of her way to be friendly and gracious.

  The queen concluded: "My brother feels an urgent need to see you, and I must send you on to him. But there is one other here who must
speak with you first."

  Now a familiar voice sounded, and a figure appeared whom we immediately recognized. And Enkidu and I saw, to our considerable surprise, that the Artisan had somehow got to Corycus ahead of us and was watching us with some amusement.

  At first I blinked at Daedalus and was unable to believe my eyes. In the next moment, anger and suspicion surged up in me, and I was convinced that the apparition before me had to be some kind of a deception.

  Jumping to my feet, I grasped the figure by one arm, taking care not to crush flesh and bone, but forestalling any attempt the man might make to pull away.

  "Majesty," I cried, turning to the queen, "this cannot be truly Daedalus. We left him behind on the mainland, and we came here faster than any other boat could travel."

  The queen and her attendants were at first greatly alarmed at my energetic action, and guards with spears leveled came bustling in. But in a few moments the cooler heads in the royal party had understood where the difficulty lay. They left it up to the Artisan himself to explain it to me.

  "Swift as your little boat must be, Hercules, you should accept the fact that the transport which brought me here was even faster."

  "How can that be?"

  He looked around before speaking, and lowered his voice. "You should keep the matter a secret for now, but I actually came here in the chariot of Dionysus."

  For a moment I thought the Artisan was joking; but then I saw that he was perfectly serious. It was evidently not the first time that Daedalus had ridden in the chariot, for he seemed to take the whole business with amazing calm.

  And a little later, I was actually able to catch a glimpse of the supernatural leopards and the chariot, waiting inside the palace, at the end of a dim hall, even though the god whose property they were was somewhere else.

  "Where is Dionysus?" I heard myself whispering to Daedalus, who walked beside me.

  The Artisan looked at me severely. "I do not question the comings and goings of such a one. He may be very far away by now; the chariot will not be his only means of getting around."

  I walked on in silence, past uniformed guards and lovely statues, all the panoply of wealth and power. Enkidu, trailing me by a step, had not uttered a word for a long time. We had come a long way from the herders' camp in Cadmia.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Talking to the Minotaur

  While I was waiting to hear word that Prince Asterion was ready to see me, I took the opportunity of seeking out the Artisan. Though I knew Daedalus only slightly, I had begun to trust him, and there were several matters on which I wanted his advice.

  Meanwhile Enkidu, who was usually not given to worrying about anything more profound than the size of his muscles or the amount of gold he might someday manage to accumulate, had disappeared into the palace kitchen. I felt confident of being able to find him there, telling stories, eating, or chasing wenches, when I wanted him.

  I had no problem locating Daedalus. He sat alone on a rooftop terrace of the palace, staring blankly at the surface of a table before him, on which he had arrayed an assortment of small objects, none of which I could recognize. I took them to be the parts of some cunning machine. They were of divers shapes and sizes, some carved of a substance that looked like bone, while others appeared to be polished wood, and yet others were clear glass.

  Not wishing to break the Artisan's concentration, I remained standing quietly at a little distance until he noticed me, and then I apologized for interrupting him. But he seemed glad to see me, and bade me sit down. The elevated site provided us with a fine view of the Great Sea, beyond the palace and the harbor of Kandak.

  The objects arranged on the table, Daedalus told me, were parts of an antique device with which he hoped to be able eventually to make some astronomical observations. But the problem of properly assembling the device had so far baffled him.

  "Maybe some are missing," I suggested

  "I fear that's all too likely." But then he seemed to put the matter aside with a gesture of his work-hardened hand. "How do matters go with you, Hercules?"

  "The Skyboat is a great help in getting from place to place. It does marvelous things. I hope you can examine it eventually."

  "I hope so, too. If I had time . . . but there are only so many years, days, and hours in the life of any man. What else?"

  "I have no real complaint about any of the tasks the gods have asked of me so far." I paused, and let time pass. In the distance, two servants were quarreling about something. The scar on the back of my right hand itched, and I scratched it absently. At last I added: "The truth is, matters do not go as well as I would like."

  The man across the table nodded slowly. "I understand that you are determined to have a meeting with your father."

  "I am."

  As I began to make my usual complaints about my father, Daedalus listened intently, and a frown grew steadily upon his face.

  "Is that how the situation seems to you?" he asked at last. "I did not realize you were so angry."

  "How else should it seem?"

  The Artisan sat for a time, still frowning. But now he gazed out at the distant waves, obviously deep in thought, while in front of him the collection of small parts lay totally forgotten for the moment. At last he sighed deeply and turned around to me again.

  "Hercules, there are some things I dare not tell you, and other things that I simply must not. But I can tell you this: I have seen your father, and spoken to him, and—"

  "You have seen Zeus?" I was impressed, and at the same time not totally convinced. For Hermes the Messenger to appear openly before mortals was one thing; for Zeus himself to do so would be quite something else. But neither could I wholly doubt. He who sat before me now was only a man—but a man who had ridden at least once in the chariot of Dionysus.

  Daedalus responded calmly. "Yes. I have seen the Thunderer and spoken to him, not many days ago—"

  "Where?"

  "On the mainland—let me finish, Hercules—and it is my belief that not a day has passed since you were born when you have been absent from his thoughts."

  "He must have a thousand bastard offspring, scattered around the world."

  Daedalus nodded his grizzled head. "That may well be. But you are one of those he thinks about and particularly cares about. Do not forget that Zeus, like all gods, is first of all a human being."

  Now it was my turn to sit silent, trying to digest a bit of information. I was staring at the sea but did not see it. At last, turning back to my adviser, I told him: "By all the gods, I wish I could believe that."

  "You can."

  "The man who currently wears the Face of Zeus is the man who sired me?"

  "That is my belief."

  "So, what have you heard my father say about me?"

  But the Artisan was shaking his head.

  "Tell me!"

  "Let your anger fall upon me if it will, Hercules, but now I must say no more. Probably I have said too much already."

  After that, we spoke for a time of other things. Within an hour a messenger came to tell me that Prince Asterion was ready to see me. Soon the Artisan, forgetting his clockwork puzzle for the moment, was guiding me into the Labyrinth. Enkidu had emerged from the kitchen, evidently sated for the moment, and came tagging at my heels; no one objected to his presence.

  Our guide led us out of the palace by one of the small side doors, then along a small gravel path that curved across a corner of the park-like grounds. Now I could see that we were headed straight toward one edge of the mysterious Labyrinth, which here immediately adjoined the palace grounds. The Maze's outer wall of stone, tall and slightly curving, loomed up ominously ahead of us.

  And then we were inside, following a curving, stone-walled passage, barely wide enough for two to walk abreast, that branched, and branched, and branched again. Some sections were roofed, and here and there a stair went up, and another down. There were small courtyards, with ponds, and plants, and statuary.

  It was, I lea
rned, easy to find one's way to certain destinations within the Maze by following a series of painted spikes, which had long ago been driven into the pavement.

  Not that my guide seemed to need them. I soon realized what I should have known all along, had I given the matter even a moment's thought: Here Daedalus was on familiar territory, having labored in the Labyrinth for many months on a project for Phaedra's predecessor on the throne. Many fascinating stories were connected with that effort, and some real events seemed to have been already transformed into legend. I told myself that when the time seemed right I would ask the man himself to tell me the truth of all those marvelous events.

  But that would have to wait, for now we were moving rapidly into the depths of the great Maze. Unlike many other famous sights in the great world, the Corycan Labyrinth, with its thousand miles or more of knotted narrow passages, most of them open to the sky, was truly as impressive as I had imagined it might be.

  I had been told by several people that the prince dwelt alone in the middle of the Labyrinth, continuing by choice a style of life that had once been enforced upon him. He lived simply, with almost nothing of the panoply of rank, and was attended only occasionally by servants. He had spent almost his entire life within these walls, relying chiefly on dreams to keep him informed about the great world outside. He welcomed us even more eagerly than his sister had.

  I had been told on good authority that Asterion, only a few years older than myself, was like me a child of Zeus. I had to repress a shudder when I saw for the first time with waking eyes just how the divine power had expressed itself in this, my half brother. Somehow this version of a composite creature, with the outward appearance of the head so totally inhuman, was more disturbing than the horse-bodied centaurs had been.

  The prince was every bit as large as his image in my dreams had shown him, seven feet tall if an inch. Even a little more, I thought, if you were to count the horns, which went curving up one on each side of the inhuman skull, in graceful symmetry. His feet and legs as they showed below his kilt were very human, no hairier and no bigger than those of some normal men. In the course of his brief life, he had become known to most of the world only as a monster, a kind of bogeyman who feasted on human flesh. The reality of course was very different, and in fact the prince ate no meat at all. He also differed from ordinary men in having been born a eunuch.