Our pursuit of the fleeing Alkyoneus and his band of surviving Giants carried us closer and ever closer to the part of the world that I associated in my mind with Danni.
The Giants had been airborne when they embarked on this latest leg of their retreat, and yet here we were, following their footprints in the earth. There should be a better word to describe the marks made by their tremendous feet—they were not mere prints, but great crushed craters. Bushes, small trees, and fences were smashed down when in the way. I remember the trail's crossing an abandoned farmyard, where a couple of outbuildings had been flattened, too.
Each segment of visible trail extended for no more than about a hundred yards. Then it would cease abruptly, showing exactly where the massive bodies of our enemies had once more gone airborne. But then after a short flight, usually no more than half a mile, at least one or two Giants returned to earth once more and ran for a short distance on their great legs. Remembering how quickly I had seen them step in battle, I could well believe that their steady running pace would be impressive.
"It's almost as if they wanted to make sure we don't lose their trail," shouted someone flying near me.
I had what I thought was a better idea: that our enemies, depending on the earth for sustenance far more than humans did, could not or dared not remain out of contact with soil and rock for more than a few minutes.
As the miles flew by and the day advanced, and the direction taken by our quarry did not change, I began to feel some immediate concern for Danni, and I promised myself that before I left the area of the estate, I would see to it that she was safe. Several times I told myself that there was no reason to think she stood in any special danger. But my uneasiness persisted.
I had known for some time the approximate location of her home and Meleager's, near the port city of Iolcus—Mel had told me as much, during the brief time when we were Argonauts together. And now I remembered that he had mentioned it again when we were climbing together out of Tartarus. He had been trying to make some preliminary arrangement for my formal betrothal to his sister, while I in my black mood had been paying little attention.
And certainly I remembered where the estate of Augeus was located, whose stables I had once so thoroughly cleansed. And it bothered me that the trail left by the fleeing Giants was now tending in that direction. I thought it was quite possible that Danni happened to be visiting her uncle there again, or that she had been forced by family pressures to relocate in her uncle's house.
As the suspicion grew in me that the Giants were deliberately planning to use her, I wondered: Had word somehow already reached my enemies that Danni and I were now formally engaged, or about to be? Some being had overheard me talking to her brother, down in Tartarus? Plenty of time for the word to spread, while I was wandering around the Upper World again and wrestling with my father.
At nightfall we broke off our pursuit and stopped to rest and eat and make plans for the next day. Whether gods absolutely required physical nourishment or not, a number of them were not going to forgo it for themselves or for their horses, just because we happened to be at war.
By the time we stopped, Daedalus and I were both in serious need of rest. My last sleep, just before that last battle, was a troubled one.
I dreamt that Hades had sent the Face of Death to me by a special messenger, and that I was free to make what disposition of it I wished.
I tried to tear the clear, glassy stuff in two, but the fabric was strong enough to resist even me—which I found a strange sensation indeed, even in a dream. At last I threw the damn thing from me, into a small stream, knowing that it would be washed into a larger river, and then yet a larger one, eventually finding its way to the ocean—let find it who would.
I dreamt that battle was raging again, and that Zeus had been struck down by two mountains hurled at him at once by two Giants, catching him between.
Where my father had been standing, there was now only a huge hole in the earth. I borrowed a chariot and flew desperately toward the center of the crater, which was almost a mile in diameter.
Desperately distressed, I dug frantically into the rubble, sending huge rocks flying this way and that.
At the bottom lay one small human body, somehow still almost intact—or at least recognizable.
I dreamt then that as my father lay dying in my arms, the Face of Zeus came working its way up out of his eyes and forehead, like some long-sunken vessel rising from the deep; and with great reluctance, but a sense of inevitability, I picked it up and put it on.
And then for a time, still dreaming, I reveled in the powers of Zeus. My perception widened, in a way that not even Atlas had been able to accomplish, so that I was granted some idea, some feel, for how great and magnificent the earth was—the deep sky had suddenly become too frightening for me to contemplate.
Great, grumbling, black-bellied cloud masses churned their way across the sky, in obedience to my will. Grand crooked forks of lightning fell from them to devastate my chosen targets. I could see Giants, now shrunken to the scale of small and frightened humans, running for their lives.
Eventually Prince Asterion appeared in my dream and told me he had come to help me out of it and to wish me well in the coming fight.
I woke from my troubled sleep to find my living father standing looking at me. Zeus, as God of the Sky, had the governance of lightning, as well as wind and storm in general. And his powers extended beyond the earth, somewhat above the thick blanket of air that Atlas had once shown me. By the commanding power of his will alone, the Thunderer could deflect the rocks that flew unendingly in airless space, when natural causes brought them near Earth, and then guided them like slung missiles against his monstrous enemies.
And the Giants on their side were far from weak and helpless. As whole new hosts and legions of their enormous bodies came tramping or drifting toward us over land and sea, I realized that there were more of them in the world than I had ever imagined. From the talk I heard around me, I understood that at least some of the gods were similarly astonished.
When the fighting resumed, the Arrows of Diana struck home in concert with those of Apollo, and no Giant could stand against that double impact.
When a strong god and I attacked as a team, no Giant whom we challenged could stand for very long before us. Mighty Arrows flew from Apollo's Bow, faster than any human could have aimed and shot them. As the bewildered target tried to fend them off, I moved in close for the attack.
When I had a chance, I looked around for Alkyoneus; but always some other opponent intervened.
In that climactic battle, Athena once more played a considerable role. She fought wearing a helmet, wielding a spear, and guarding herself with the shield called Aegis, which at that time was not yet as famous as it has since become.
As I have already said, there were many other gods engaged on that field of combat, and there are too many stories for me to attempt to tell them all.
It was with a sense of some inevitable fate come due that I saw the Giants' trail lead at last directly to the estate of Danni's uncle Augeus, the same man who had once claimed to offer a great reward for the slaying of the Hydra and had so urgently craved the cleansing of the stables.
The trail led straight to that place, and through it, apparently without pause, as if our enemies' flight had followed this path only by the sheerest accident. Later, of course, I learned that that was not the case. There had been a plan to take Danni hostage and use her somehow against me. But our enemies' plans, like our own, were subject to confusion in the fog of war, and she was never captured.
But I of course demanded that we land, and soon Apollo's chariot came down on the front lawn of Uncle Augeus, and moments later I entered the house, with such an escort as only young men in legends ever have. And Danni was there, of course, free and unharmed, and I will never forget the look in her green eyes when I strode in, with the Lord Apollo half a stride behind me, an Arrow nocked to his Bow. I think it unlikely that Augeus
, in his shocked state, immediately recognized in me a young troublemaker who had once cleaned his stables. But even if he did, he was not about to refuse me permission to marry his young niece—especially not when he had every reason to believe that an army of Giants was about to descend on his estate and trample his accumulated prosperity into dust.
As soon as Danni saw me, she came to me and took both my hands in hers. I could see she was afraid, but I thought that most of her fear was for me, not for herself.
She said: "Mel has told me of the loss you suffered. It is so terrible, I wonder how you endure it."
"I couldn't endure it. But other things have happened to bring me past it."
"Other things—having to do with me, Hercules?"
"One of them does. Very much so." I suppose my manner indicated that I would be more specific when the right time came, and sensibly she did not press me at the moment.
We talked of Mel, who had set out to be a hero, and of our current situation regarding the Giants.
"You've cut your hair," I said. It was still straight and brown, but it only just hung past her ears.
"Do you like it?" She shook her head to make her tresses dance.
"I do, whether it is long or short. But then I like everything about you, and it has been that way since the moment we first met." Without pausing, I rushed on:
"I have sworn a solemn oath to marry you."
Danni's face showed no great surprise, and I realized that Mel must have told her of the conversation he and I had shared in Hell.
Suddenly there was a daring glint of humor in her green eyes, and she asked: "Sworn it under what compulsion?" Now I thought that she was testing me, ready either to laugh or to flare in anger.
"Don't you know me better than that? It is impossible to compel Hercules, son of Zeus, to do anything he does not want to do."
"Oh, has that been proven? But I have not tried my hand at such a feat." And I rejoiced to see a spirit of mischief dancing in the green eyes, ready to do battle with anything, especially with fear and sadness. "It would be an interesting challenge."
Now it was my turn to reach out with both hands to her. "Danni, will you be my wife?"
"Hercules, you must know I will. I have been aching to marry you since the day you threw my brother off the dock."
And Zeus himself found time to preside at a brief and simple ceremony, where several other gods and goddesses honored Danni and me by their presence—the business took only a few minutes.
But the wedding feast was going to have to wait, and so was the wedding night. Some people on our side were surprised at that, believing the battle was basically over and that it only remained for us to hunt down Alkyoneus and the other Giants who had fled.
"The battle may well be over," the Thunderer assured them, "but the war certainly is not."
And even those who thought the battle over were seriously mistaken. Now Alkyoneus was in the process of hunting me down, and came raging after me.
For some time now, when traveling long distances, he had been using a pair of flying Sandals, stolen or captured from some unhappy god, which worked as well on his enormous bulk as on a body of merely human size. But when it came time to fight again, he put the Sandals off, so he could better plant his feet and swing his club. He was running at us now, in solid contact with the earth, and it was plain he meant to fight.
And yet again Apollo, bronze helmet and all, had been knocked out of the air by a club in the hands of Alkyoneus, and the Sun God had to take a moment or two to regain his senses.
My case was similar. I never saw the blow that hit me when I came running near, doing my best to get within reach of the Giant's feet. I suppose it was his long club that he swung to swat me off the ground and send me flying—as I had once, long ago, propelled a lion through the air.
It must have been only moments later that a pair of centaurs found me lying stunned, after that terrific blow had bounced me off a rock or two.
Meanwhile the final, desperate battle still raged all around us, but I was only dimly aware of it. At first the centaurs' voices seemed to reach me from a great distance and to be partially muffled. They were debating between themselves as to what to do with me. By now I was beginning to regain my senses.
Kneeling beside me, the two six-limbed beings first tried to pry my club out of my immobile fingers, but I maintained my grip on that glorious weapon even while I continued to feign unconsciousness.
Now I could more clearly hear the centaurs, and recognized one voice as that of Nessus. The words of their debate began to make more sense in my shocked brain.
"Should we kill him immediately?" one asked.
"There's only one way we can do that." The voice of Nessus carried the calm of great insanity. "Are you ready for the sacrifice?"
The nameless centaur sounded considerably more normal than my old enemy. "We have talked that over again and again. No need for any of us to die, if the loss, the donation, is shared among us."
At the time, this made no sense to me. And then, just as I was about to leap up and smite them, Nessus said: "Anyway, we must first take him to Alkyoneus, who wants to see what he is made of."
Struck by a sudden inspiration, I lay still, restricting my impending movement to a few twitches.
"Shall we tie his wrists?" the nameless centaur asked.
"Tie the arms of Hercules?" Nessus was contemptuous. "That would be a useless exercise, wouldn't you say?"
Presently I was lifted and slung over a horselike back. Still I gripped my club, so one end of it went dragging on the ground as I was carried, and I thought surely that would make my would-be captors suspicious. But no, they were certain they had captured me, and I went along with the game as the only means of catching up with Alkyoneus. By now I was convinced that he was too fast on his feet for me to have any chance of overtaking him. Meanwhile, a temporary lull had fallen over the battlefield.
"Put him here," boomed out an enormous voice, and I was dumped from a centaur's back onto a surface as broad and flat and leathery as the floor of an expensive tent. And now the tent floor was moving up, bearing me and the two centaurs with it.
Cracking an eyelid open, I made sure that I had been set down on the palm of a Giant's hand, and that currently I was being held at the level of his chest while he inspected me. The palm of his hand was easily ten feet wide. Taking an iron grip upon my patience, I ordered myself to wait until I could be sure of landing on the great Giant's shoulder if I jumped, and to wait until I had my feet planted on his shoulder before I swung my club.
Presently I heard the Giant's enormous, booming voice again, this time from deafeningly near at hand, conversing with the centaurs in some language I did not understand.
By this time I suppose Alkyoneus was about half convinced that I was finally dead. Now at last he was incautiously holding me close to his head so he could examine me closely. Maybe he was nearsighted. I was prodded, gently, with the tip of a finger that felt like the end of a big log.
Getting my feet under me in a sudden scramble, I suddenly realized there was no need to jump from his hand to his shoulder before I swung—his staring right eye was only a few feet from my face.
But Nessus and his comrade reacted quickly when I moved. Their natural unconsidered instinct was to seize me, and they were quick enough to get some parts of their bodies in the way of my swing when it was launched into the Giant's face.
Thus it was that my club, propelled with all the strength that I could summon up, hit centaur flesh and bone by accident, hit and passed through on its way to its intended target.
What the effect of my unaided swing would have on Alkyoneus I do not know, for just at that moment a timely contribution came from Apollo—one of his Arrows entered the Giant's left eye, detonating a powerful explosion inside his head, even as I knocked the staring right eye of Alkyoneus clear out of his enormous face.
Two slain centaurs and I fell with the great Giant's hand, and fortunately the corps
e of Alkyoneus, almost beheaded by the double impact, did not land on top of me; but still a moment later I was writhing and screaming on the ground, in agony from a poisoning by the centaurs' blood. Some of it had splashed me, soaking through the wool with which my suit of Vulcan's chain mail was lined; and I tore desperately at the garment to get it off.
Even in my frenzy, I realized that Danni was there, trying to help me.
Moments later, I fell into a swoon from which I only recovered when the battle was practically over.
The armor made for me by Vulcan, and the quick action of my bride-to-be, had saved me from a worse fate, but I had still been severely burned, as if by acid.
Zeus had failed to warn me, fearful that I would at last turn against him if I knew the secret vulnerability he had designed into my nature.
In planning my existence, Zeus had been as crafty and suspicious as a god could be with the experience of ages to draw upon (at least in those portions of his memory that were not riddled with lacunae). He had feared to create a rival who might someday pose a threat to his own rule. Therefore he had provided his hopeful new monster with a secret weakness, by means of which he would be able to arrange my destruction, if that ever became necessary. The answer, what he thought was an acceptable answer, was found in the chemistry of centaurs' blood.
Apollo had survived the fight without any additional damage, and presently he came to do what he could to ease my suffering; and what he could do was quite a lot. Pain subsided to bearable levels, and some of my strength returned.
A small crowd of victorious gods was gathered around the fallen bulk of Alkyoneus; and now it was possible to study the design of his armor, which conducted thunderbolts harmlessly to the ground.
The surviving centaurs had all fled the field; and to this day I have never learned why certain of their race so hated me that they tried to arrange with their Giant allies an elaborate plan for my destruction.
* * *
My friend Hephaestus still had not abandoned hope of someday discovering the secret of creating Faces. He has told me that he will someday be able in his laboratory to forge the Face of Hercules, who must henceforward be a god. Oh, not great enough to challenge my father, as Vulcan hastens to make clear, or to cause Zeus any uneasy moments. The god Hercules would lack some of the Thunderer's key attributes, while still matching him in general strength and durability.
The Arms Of Hercules Page 38