Medea the Enchantress

by Joan Holub

  Heracles nodded. “Good idea. You never know. There could be pirates or sea monsters waiting to attack us in the channels on either side of the mountain, where it’s too narrow for us to turn around and escape.”

  Much to Medea’s disappointment, after the ship was docked, Jason instructed Tiphys, Heracles, Glauce, and her to stay on board the Argo. Only he and the rest of the Argonauts would hike up the mountain. That wasn’t going to help her get him and Glauce paired off. She needed him to stay on board with them!

  If she had thought it would do any good, Medea might’ve protested, but Jason seemed pretty headstrong. Push him or his crew too far and she might find herself tossed overboard as sea monster food!

  She and Glauce sat gloomily on a vacant bench near the gangway as the sailors filed off the ship. Medea perked up when she realized that Jason, who was at the end of the line, would be the last person to pass by Glauce and her. Finally! The time to put her arrow-pricking plan into action had come!

  She nudged her shoulder against Glauce’s as Jason approached. “You should stand up and wish him good luck before he heads out.”

  “Great idea,” said Glauce, looking at her in surprise. “Once in a while you do have one.”

  Medea arched an eyebrow. Only once in a while? That was a backhanded compliment if ever she’d heard one. Typical Glauce!

  The Jason-crushing girl smoothed her blond hair and sat up straighter, poised to rise from the bench when he reached them. Meanwhile, Medea bent and pretended to adjust her sandal straps with one hand, while reaching into her pocket with her other. From the corner of her eye she observed Jason moving closer . . . and closer. Her fingers gripped the mini arrow, preparing to pull it out and lightly prick his leg with its tip.

  Suddenly footsteps echoed from somewhere up the mountainside. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

  “Look owwwt! A horde of giants is coming our way!” Atalanta called back to shore. The fastest runner (and hiker!) among them, she’d taken the lead up the mountain while most of the Argonauts were still onshore. Above her a dozen or so giants had rounded over the mountaintop and were now marching in formation down toward the Argo.

  Lickety-split, Jason raced past Glauce and Medea and leaped from the ship to join his crew and confront the giants. Drat! Medea had missed her chance!

  The giants chanted a terrifying tune in time to their marching as they readied an attack on the Argonauts.

  “We are the Earthbound Men.

  We have six arms built in.

  We’ll stomp your ship, then grin.

  We always like to win.

  We are the Earthbound Men.”

  “That’s a terrible—not to mention mean—song,” Orpheus yelled to the giants from where he stood onshore. Hearing this, the biggest and scariest of the Earthbound Men gave a roar and headed straight for him. Orpheus paled, hugged his lyre, and ran. Even if he had known of Apollo’s idea to use his lyre to whack an enemy in battle, if he’d tried it these giants would probably have flicked him away like a bug!

  As Jason surged ahead of him to confront the giant, Orpheus turned to watch. Walking hastily backward toward the ship now, he strummed his lyre and sang:

  “That E-Man looks scary,

  Not like a good friend.

  Jason, say bye-bye,

  This looks like the end.”

  Jason glared at Orpheus over his shoulder. “Not helping!”

  “Sorry!” Orpheus told him. “But I think Apollonius would want me to call situations like I see ’em.”

  The E-Men, as Orpheus had nicknamed them, really did have six arms “built in.” Two grew from their shoulders and four jutted from their sides. And they did indeed look super-scary just like in his song!

  “Those must be Medusa’s troublemakers!” Medea exclaimed to Glauce. “Remember? She got a whole group of matching statues in class that each had six arms. Isn’t it great? Her E-Men are delaying the Argo!”

  “No! It is not great at all,” said Glauce, pointing at the giants, who were getting closer. “Medusa seems to be sending those giants to stomp the ship. And guess what we’re standing on!”

  The girls stared at each other with big eyes. Arghhh! They both ran for the gangway, but Heracles was blocking their exit. He’d grabbed the nearest bow and quiver of arrows and now stood eyeing the oncoming giants.

  “Back off, you dumb ol’ E-Men!” he hollered. He pulled his bowstring and shot off an arrow. It soared in a high arc, then zoomed downward to stick in the biggest giant’s big toe.

  “Owie-ow-ow!” yelled the giant. Hopping around on one foot, he pointed at Heracles. “Waaah! Meanie! You shot my piggy toe!” (He was so enormous that his big toe was the size of an actual pig!) Seeing what had happened, the other giants turned into whimpering wimps, too. They beat a hasty retreat up and over the mountaintop, shouting insults at Heracles the whole time. “Bully! Toe-shooter! Ruffian!”

  They didn’t even pause when they stomped upward past Atalanta, who was heading down to the ship. She’d circled around the giants while they were marching to the shore and had continued to the top of the mountain to see what was on its other side.

  “All looks clear ahead!” Medea heard her shout to Jason.

  “Onward, Argonauts!” Jason ordered when they were all back aboard the ship. “Tiphys, set sail!”

  “Good aim with that arrow,” he commended Heracles, who looked pleased by the praise.

  Strumming his lyre as they pulled up anchor, Orpheus quickly composed another song:

  “Those E-Men were chickens who ran away fast.

  Now we can continue our journey at last.”

  It was kind of short, thought Medea. But Orpheus was probably in a hurry because a new blustery storm was blowing in! Within minutes enormous waves brought the ship low, then lifted it high, turning them every which way in the process.

  “Poseidon at work back at MOA, I bet!” Medea yelled to Glauce as they clung to the tall central mast to keep from being swept out to the sea. “He promised to make stormy trouble for Jason, remember?”

  “Yeah, I can just picture him leaning over the Hero-ology game board, laughing that evil ‘bwah-ha-ha’ laugh of his and blowing at the Argo as hard as he can,” said Glauce. “I wonder if he’d let up a little if he knew we were on this ship. His storm’s making me kind of seasick!”

  “Doubt it,” Medea yelled back. “He wants to make a good Hero-ology grade!” What that godboy of the sea also didn’t know was that she was on his side now. Despite the rocking and rolling of the ship, she was actually glad for the delay Poseidon was causing. Any action that slowed Jason from getting the fleece was A-OK with her!

  “Can our ship withstand these gusts, Argus?” Jason hollered to a young man with dark, curly hair cropped close to his head.

  Hearing him call the familiar name of Athena’s shipbuilder, Medea suddenly remembered that Argus was on board. He was one of the Argonauts!

  “The Argo was built long and narrow to ram enemy ships it might encounter, not to withstand storms. That’s why we’ve stuck close to the shore of Turkey all this time instead of sailing directly across the middle of the sea!” Argus yelled back to Jason over the fierce sounds of the storm. “Our sail will be torn from its mast if this keeps up!”

  “Furl the sail!” Jason commanded. Medea and Glauce watched as Zetes, Calais, and Heracles immediately leaped up from their benches to bind the huge, flapping sail to the tall pole that the two girls were gripping.

  By now Medea’s chiton was sopping wet, and the wind was whipping her hair around her like the snakes on Medusa’s head! Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she glimpsed a startling sight beyond the three boys working at the sail. A small group of beautiful women were climbing up the anchor rope at the prow and practically slithering over the ship’s railing! One of them reached into the ship, grabbed a square, flat object from under one of its benches, and then slipped back over the railing with her prize. With flips of their sparkly, scaly mermaidlike tails, the other women
followed suit, diving into the sea and swimming away.

  “Sea nymphs!” Medea yelled, pointing. “One of them just stole something from under Heracles’ bench!”

  Heracles had been so busy furling the sail, and the other sailors so busy at their oars, that none had noticed the nymphs. Alerted now, some of the crew leaned over the railing, trying to track them and determine what they’d stolen.

  “Oh no! Hylas is gone!” wailed Heracles. “Those nymphs took my shield!”

  Tiphys was at the tiller trying to keep the ship on course, but he took in the situation in a quick glance. “Looks like they’re heading for the mouth of a river at the city of Cius, Turkey!” he yelled over the storm.

  “Hey, you shield-napping nymphs. Get back here!” Heracles bellowed. When the nymphs ignored him, he jumped into the heaving waves and swam after them.

  “Bye!” he called back to the ship. “Sail on without me, Jason. I have to go find Hylas!”

  “Those nymphs must be the troublemaking ones assigned to Eros!” Glauce yelled to Medea above the roar of the wind. “Do you think he made them crush on Heracles’ shield too, so they’d steal it?”

  “Maybe!” Medea yelled back, only then realizing Glauce was aware of Heracles’ shield-crush. “Their job is to make trouble for the Argo. And luring Heracles away will mean he can’t help Jason anymore!”

  “We will miss your friendship and your strength in battle!” Jason called out to Heracles. He gave a formal farewell salute to the mega-strong mortal boy. “Good luck. And safe travels!”

  Once they were safely through the storm, the Argonauts seemed disheartened and maybe a bit bored when no new adventures cropped up right away. Their low moods affected Medea and Glauce, too. Besides that, both girls were all wet again, which was not fun! Feeling grumpy, Medea watched Jason running around checking on things as she wrung seawater out of her chiton’s skirt.

  “I don’t get why he was chosen as the leader of this quest,” she said to Glauce. “You’d expect a leader to have super-incredible qualities—like Heracles’ strength and battle skills, or Atalanta’s speed, for example. Jason doesn’t seem to have any qualities that really make him stand out.”

  “So what? Jason’s still amazing!” Glauce argued.

  Overhearing them, Jason nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Glauce, but Medea’s right. I only wish I had the strength of Heracles, the speed of Atalanta, or the musical talent of Orpheus. My crew is truly amazing.” He propped one foot on his bench and gazed out to sea, looking a little sad about his lack of talent.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it like . . . I mean, I’m sorry I said that,” Medea backpedaled, wringing out her drippy hair. “I’m sure you’re doing your best.”

  “That’s true, but doing my best isn’t the same as being the best at something,” Jason said matter-of-factly. “In spite of my lack of real skills, though, I’m proud as can be whenever one of my crew succeeds in using his or her special talents to help us all.”

  His expression filled with respect and awe for his crew as he turned to Orpheus and gestured grandly with one arm. “More music, maestro! As we sail, let’s celebrate the members of our crew!”

  Rallying at his words, the crew began rowing faster. The sail was hoisted, and Medea and Glauce went to sit upon the only empty bench. The one Heracles had formerly occupied.

  While the ship picked up speed, Jason said to the Argonauts, “Please, why don’t each of you sing out your name along with a few words about your amazing skills! Orpheus will turn your words into song, and we’ll hope Apollonius will later enshrine them in his musical. That way the world will forever remember you as the extraordinary heroes you all are.”

  “Cool! I’ll start things off,” said Orpheus. Strumming his lyre, he sang, “Orpheus! I sing—it’s my thing!” Then he looked at Atalanta. “Your turn!”

  “Atalanta! I’m fast—never last!” she sang, which made everyone laugh.

  “Tiphys! Ships aren’t lost or late when I navigate,” the pilot sang out.

  Medea’s head turned this way and that, memorizing the names of all the crew as more and more of them offered up funny but sincere rhyming descriptions of their talents. Soon everyone was smiling and in high spirits again.

  Finally it was the figurehead’s turn to sing about her special talent. Instead she put the crew on alert, singing, “I spy a king, in that beach boxing ring! Dead ahead.”

  Just then Medea’s stomach rumbled. It was way past lunchtime!

  7

  Hungry

  ALL EYES TURNED TOWARD BITHYNIA, a region along the coast of Turkey. The figurehead was right. A man wearing a crown and boxing gloves was on the shore, jumping around on the sandy beach inside a roped-off area that looked like a boxing ring. Though he was the only person inside the ring, he was punching the air in front of himself as if combating some invisible fighter.

  A crowd standing outside the ring clapped their hands or banged clubs together now and then to applaud his actions. Nearby there were long tables heaped with food and drink. Medea licked her lips, practically drooling. Would they share?

  At a signal from Jason, the sailors dragged their oars to slow the Argo. “Excuse me, Your Royal Highness,” he called out. “We are on a long voyage and about to cross the Black Sea to Colchis. Do you have food you could spare?”

  Hearing this, the king stopped punching the air to stare at the ship. After reading the name painted on its side, he thrust his arms wide. “The Argo! I’ve heard about you guys. Pheme’s been spreading the word all over Earth about your quest. I suppose you’ve come to invite me, King Amycus, and the Bebryces people I rule to be part of the musical Apollonius is going to make about your exploits?”

  “If you’ll let us dine at your table, Orpheus will certainly mention you and your hospitality in one of his songs,” offered Jason.

  The king planted his boxing gloves on his hips, appearing annoyed. “Mention me? Bah! I want a starring role! But I suppose I must do something outrageous to get more than a mention, right?” He cocked his head, thinking.

  “Well, I—” Jason started to say.

  “Fine. Here’s my idea,” the king interrupted him. “I hereby challenge one of your crew to a boxing match!”

  The Argonauts just stared at him like he was batty, and given his odd behavior, Medea figured there was a very good chance that he was.

  “Come on. Send your best fighter in here. I can beat any of you,” the king boasted, hopping around the boxing ring like a cricket and punching at the air. “And if I win, I get to throw the loser off a cliff. Include that in your little musical, why don’t you? Ha-ha-ha! How’s that for outrageous!”

  “What if we win?” Jason countered. “Then can we share your food?”

  “Sorry! It’s fake food, meant only to lure worthy opponents here to fight me. You can’t actually eat it, but I can offer you something else in the unlikely event that the opponent you send is victorious.” The king snapped his fingers. “Royal accountant!” he called out. “Get over here, pronto!” A short man with a large mustache ran out from the crowd. Bowing to the king, he handed Amycus a cloth bag as big as his head. Its contents clinked and clanked when the king held it up to show the Argonauts.

  “If against all odds your fighter wins, I will give you this bag of coins.” The king then tossed the bag into a corner of the ring and started jumping around and punching Mr. Nobody again.

  Murmurs flew among the Argonauts. “With all that cash we could buy food somewhere,” said Tiphys. “That guy is too nutty to be trusted,” warned Atalanta. “Mmm, nuts. I’m starving,” groaned Orpheus.

  “Any volunteers?” asked Jason, glancing around at his crew.

  “Wasn’t one of Ares’ hero statues a fighter? The sailor Polydeuces?” Medea asked Glauce. Glauce’s eyes lit up and she nodded.

  Medea looked over at Jason and opened her mouth to suggest the sailor’s name. But before she could, Glauce butted in, calling out, “Polydeuces
! How about him?”

  Grr. As usual, Glauce just had to beat her to the punch and take credit for her idea, thought Medea. She wished she’d been quicker to speak up!

  “Well, I do have some experience,” Polydeuces told Jason, bowing his head modestly.

  Could this shy guy beat the king? He didn’t have big muscles like Heracles, so Medea wasn’t sure he was the best choice. However, Heracles was gone now, off in pursuit of his beloved shield, Hylas. So, cheered on by the crew, Polydeuces bravely left the ship and joined the king in the ring.

  “Ha! All I’ll have to do is sit on you to win this fight,” the king joked upon seeing him. He looked large and menacing next to Polydeuces, who was but a boy, after all.

  King Amycus leaped closer and immediately struck the first blow with his right fist. Polydeuces ducked. Another blow came. Polydeuces did a somersault and rolled to the far side of the ring to avoid it. The king kept on swinging, and kept on missing. Polydeuces’ strategy seemed to be to dance around the ring and dodge all the king’s jabs until he wore him out. This strategy was working—but it was also making the king mad!

  “Get over here! This isn’t dodge boxing, ya know!” Amycus yelled, huffing and puffing.

  “Yeah! Scaredy-cat! Booooo!” the crowd on the beach bellowed at Polydeuces.

  The Argonauts shouted encouragements to him, though, even as the frustrated king charged him like an angry bull. Again Polydeuces hopped aside, so the king’s fist only grazed his arm. The dodge knocked the king off-balance, and Polydeuces saw his chance. He struck a blow—a right hook to the king’s jaw! Pow!

  The king’s eyeballs rolled around in his head like marbles, then he spun around three times and fell to the sand flat on his back. THONK!

  “Woo-hoo!” Polydeuces gleefully kicked up his heels. He grabbed the bag of money and ran for the ship. Unfortunately, the Bebrycians turned out to be sore losers. They waved their clubs and stormed after him.

  “Hooray for Polydeuces!” cheered the Argonauts. As soon as he had leaped aboard the Argo, the crew shoved off, leaving the angry mob behind. Phew! Orpheus played a sprightly tune on his lyre, making up lyrics about the boxing match as he went along, while the sailors rowed as fast as they could.