by Simon Hawke
"Yet there is no fight to run from," Idmon said. "Under the pretext of hospitality, we have been taken prisoner. True, we have been allowed to keep our weapons, but that was only to strengthen the pretext. If an effort had been made to take our arms, or if we had been asked to give them up, we would have suspected trickery and had a chance to fight, but as it turned out that chance was denied us. We have acted honorably, no one would dispute that. It was Aietes who tricked us into this position, so that we are now his prisoners. And as prisoners, it is our honorable duty to attempt escape."
Jason pursed his lips and nodded, "Yes, that is true. I see that now. Escaping from imprisonment is not the same as running from a fight."
"Nicely done," Delaney whispered to Idmon.
"Yes, I thought so too," the soothsayer whispered back.
"But stealing the fleece like a common thief does not seem right," said Jason. "I would much rather win it in fair combat."
"But how could it be fair when my father's men outnumber you so greatly?" asked Medea.
"That is beside the point," said Jason. "A brave man does not reckon odds before he goes into a battle."
"Quite right, on both counts," Idmon said. "A brave man does not reckon odds, indeed, and that is beside the point. You yourself said that it would not be stealing if you were only carrying out the wishes of the gods. And it cannot be called stealing if you were to take from Aietes that which does not belong to him so that you might return it to its proper owner."
Jason frowned. "You confound me, Idmon. Explain what you mean."
Idmon raised his eyebrows and shrugged elaborately. "I should think it would be obvious," he said. "Does not the golden fleece rightfully belong in Iolchos? Did not the gods themselves reveal to you that it was so? And was not the ram itself, from which the fleece came, given to Nephele? As I recall the story, she sent the ram to carry Phrixus and Helle out of danger, but the story makes no mention of her giving the ram to them. For all we know, she must have told it to return to her so that she would know that Phrixus and Helle had reached safety. How was she to know the ram would die? With Nephele's own death, her possessions would have passed on to her children, but with both her children dead now, it is clear that the next of kin stand to inherit and that would have been your father, Aeson. But now, with your father gone, you are the next of kin, so the golden fleece rightfully belongs to you. Surely, a man cannot steal that which already belongs to him!"
Steiger stared at Idmon. "Good God," he said softly, so that only Andre and Delaney heard. "Now I know what happened to the soothsaying profession. They all became attorneys."
Jason slapped his hand down on the table. "Of course!" he said. "What could I have been thinking of? Rather than being a thief, I am the victim of a theft! How could a man steal what rightfully belongs to him? What nonsense! The golden fleece belongs to me by rights of inheritance! Lead on, Medea! Take us to the Sacred Grove of Ares! I must reclaim my property!"
Medea looked at Idmon with obvious relief and the agents looked at him with new respect.
"Maybe we can take him back with us," Delaney said to Steiger as they followed the others through the secret doorway. "Can you imagine an attorney with precognitive abilities?"
"That's too scary even to think about," said Steiger.
They followed Medea down the passageway, which ran parallel to the corridor beyond the wall and then around the hall to the opposite wing of the palace.
"We must first tell Chalciope to send men to help your friends and prepare her own escape. She has had it arranged for quite some time now, but was only awaiting the opportunity. Now will be her chance to go and join her sons. Then they can indeed gather an army to march against our father and Kovalos, but by then, I will be with you in Iolchos." She gave Jason such a look that he almost grabbed her on the spot, but she held him off and said there would be time enough for them during the voyage back to Iolchos. "For now, we must arrange to set your friends free so they can make your ship ready to depart the moment we come back with the golden fleece."
"It would be best for one of us to accompany the men Chalciope will send to help our friends," said Idmon. "That way, they will not think it may be a trap. Theseus, perhaps you should be the one to go. There may be fighting if anything goes wrong and you would be sorely needed. The rest of us will remain behind with Jason and Medea."
"Yes, that would be wise," said Jason. "Go, Theseus, and tell Hercules our plan. We will all meet at the ship before dawn."
They met Chalciope and left Theseus with her and several of the soldiers who had served under Phrixus. Their plan called for disguising Theseus as one of the soldiers and then marching together in a group to the barracks where the Argonauts were being kept, with "orders from Kovalos" to release them so that they could be escorted to their ship and sent back home with a ransom demand for Jason and Theseus. Holding kings for ransom was something the mercenaries would understand. Meanwhile, Theseus would warn Hercules and the others to go along with the ruse. Once they were free, their only danger would be running into Kovalos and the soldiers who were out searching for the Argo. Theseus was to tell them to stay hidden unless Kovalos found the Argo, in which case their only choice would be to fight, though they would stand a better chance at night, out in the open.
Medea then led the others back down the same passageway they had come from, making many different turnings which led downward until they were out of the bowels of the palace and within the caverns which honeycombed the mountain. Steiger remained close to Idmon, watching him every moment.
Medea used a torch to light their way through the damp stone caves until they came out into the open, far below the palace and the city. They were in the thickly wooded foothills and the full moon hung in a cloudless sky above them. Just below them was a trail which led into the woods.
"That path leads to the Sacred Grove of Ares," said Medea. "The only way to reach it is through the caverns, as we came. Only my father and the high priests and priestesses know the way, as it is they who bring the golden fleece into the palace for occasions of importance and then return it to the Sacred Grove."
"Yet you knew the way," said Jason.
"Because I am the High Priestess of Hecate," said Medea. "In bringing you here, I have profaned against the goddess. If we are caught, it means my death."
"Are there guards posted at the Sacred Grove?" asked Jason. "Or is it watched only by priests?"
"There are no guards and there are no priests," Medea said, "but the golden fleece is watched over by a dragon."
"A dragon!" Jason said. "You did not mention this before!"
"No?" said Medea, a touch uncomfortably. "Well, perhaps I had forgotten."
"How could you forget a dragon?"
"I-I don't know. I suppose that in all my concern for your safety and for the safety of my sister and your men, it must have simply slipped my mind."
"By the gods," said Jason, "a dragon! This changes things!"
"It is too late for things to change," Medea said. "There can be no turning back, Jason. For better or for worse, I have cast my lot with you. The only way out is through the caverns. You would not find your way without me and I cannot return now. The only way to go is forward, down that trail. It is the only way. To reach your ship, you will have to take that trail to the river at the bottom of the ravine and the trail passes through the Sacred Grove of Ares."
"I see," said Jason. "So there is no going back and there is no way to avoid the dragon. I think, Medea, you did not forget about the dragon. I think you never meant to tell us until now."
"Very well," Medea said, looking down at the ground, "I was afraid to tell you." She looked up at him beseechingly. "I know it was wrong, but I was afraid that your courage may have failed you. Where would that have left me? I would have been forced to remain here and marry that detestable Kovalos! I have risked everything for you! The golden fleece will make you a great king in Iolchos and you shall have me in the bargain. Losing it will serv
e my father right for promising me to that common mercenary!"
"There is nothing to do but to go on," said Jason. "I will not return to Iolchos without the golden fleece. It is only that news of this dragon comes unexpectedly to me. I have heard tales of dragons, but I have yet to see one for myself."
"Then you will see one soon," Medea said. "To a man such as yourself, a dragon is no obstacle! Come, we must go quickly if we are to meet your friends by dawn." She grabbed Jason by the arm and started pulling him toward the trail.
"I fear that Jason will have two dragons to contend with," Idmon said. "If he can slay the first, the second will take him for a husband."
"Have you ever seen a dragon, Idmon?" asked Delaney.
"I confess that I have not," the soothsayer said. "Indeed, I had not thought that there really were such creatures, but we have seen so many wonders on this voyage that a dragon somehow comes as no surprise. It is a pity we have left Hercules behind." He closed his eyes and stood very still for a moment. "How large do dragons grow, I wonder?"
The agents exchanged nervous glances.
"Does your intuition tell you something, Idmon?" said Delaney.
Idmon sighed. "It is a most vexing and peculiar gift," he said, "not very dependable at all, I am afraid. Just now, I had a presentiment that this dragon may not be a large one. Yet there still remains a question to which I have no answer. What is small for a dragon?"
11
"How do your priests deal with this dragon when they come to the grove?" asked Jason.
"They mix a potion into its food which puts it to sleep for a time," Medea said.
"Can we not also use this potion?" Jason asked.
"I fear not," said Medea. "Only the High Priest of Ares administers this potion and only he knows how to mix it. It is his sacred trust and I could not ask him for it without arousing his suspicion. You shall have to kill the dragon before we can get the golden fleece. You can do it, Jason. I know you can."
Jason sighed. "Yes, but does the dragon know?"
The well-worn narrow pathway took them down a rocky slope, through a dense thicket of birch trees. They had to proceed in single file until the trail widened and brought them to a large clearing. They entered the Sacred Grove by passing between two large boulders which had long ago fallen from the heights above. The rock-strewn clearing was roughly circular in shape and about thirty yards in diameter. A number of stone altars ringed its circumference, each with a small bowel-shaped sink carved into it. Each of these sinks held pitch and there were large urns on either side of each stone altar which held oil and incense. Near the entrance to the grove stood two braziers which were always kept burning.
In the center of the clearing stood a leviathan of a tree, ancient and gnarled, its thick branches spreading out all around it in twisted shapes. In the moonlight, they could discern the shape of something hanging from one of the thicker, lower branches, a dark mass that looked like heavy Spanish moss.
Medea lit a torch from one of the burning braziers and started to light the pitch bowels in the altars near them. As the crackling flames leaped up, the dark mass hanging from the lower tree limb reflected the firelight in a metallic, golden glow.
"The golden fleece," said Jason, softly. As Medea poured scented oil on the flames to make them burn more brightly, there was a rustling at the foot of the huge tree and what looked like a mound of earth started to move. The dark shape came at them quickly, moving with an ungainly, splayfooted motion that was deceptively fast. It charged them and stopped with an abrupt jerk about twenty feet away, making hissing and snapping noises. It resembled a small prehistoric reptile, a dinosaur from the Mesozoic era. It was thirty feet long from its head to the tip of its tail. They had scattered when it charged them, but they recovered when they saw that the creature could not come any closer. It strained at them, but a long heavy chain fastened to the tree held it back.
"It really is a dragon!" Andre said.
"It's a monitor lizard," said Steiger, staring at the creature. "Also known as a Komodo dragon. I've seen them before in Indochina, but not as big as this."
"Is it dangerous?" asked Andre.
"Oh, yes," Steiger said. "Komodo dragons are carnivorous. They'll eat wild pigs and deer. They could kill a man. This one is certainly large enough. I don't think it does too well in this climate, though. Probably makes it sluggish."
"It doesn't seem all that sluggish to me," said Delaney, apprehensively.
Jason stood with his back against the rock, his sword held out before him, his gaze riveted to the lizard as its long tongue lashed out repeatedly.
"Kill it!" yelled Medea, crouching behind one of the stone altars. "Kill it, Jason! Quickly!"
"There is no need for haste," said Jason. "The chain holds it fast. Does it breathe fire?"
"I have never seen it do so," said Medea, uncertainly.
Steiger nocked an arrow to his bow.
"That will serve no purpose," said Medea. "It cannot be killed in such a manner. Arrows cannot pierce its hide."
"Who told you that?" said Steiger. He pulled the bow back to his ear and let the arrow fly. It struck the lizard in the throat, penetrating deeply. The lizard thrashed, making hissing, rasping noises. He fired another arrow into its eye and the creature fell. It twitched several times and then lay still.
"But my father told us all that the dragon was impervious to arrows!" cried Medea.
Steiger shrugged. "Your father lied."
Medea flew into a rage. "Oh, how I hate him! I can draw a bow as well as any man! Had I but known it was so simple, I could have slain the beast myself!"
"Then you would have had the golden fleece and you would not have needed Jason," said Delaney. He grinned. "Too bad. Looks like you're stuck."
"You did nothing!" said Medea, turning on Jason. "You merely stood there while your friend dispatched the beast!"
"I took you at your word when you said that arrows would not pierce its flesh," Jason said. "I was thinking how to kill the creature when Creon put an arrow in its throat."
"You were afraid!" Medea said.
"I was not afraid!"
He carefully walked in a wide circle around the dragon and approached the tree. He stretched his arm out to pull down the fleece, but it would not budge. He grabbed it with both hands and pulled again. It moved a little, but still remained draped over the tree limb. With a curse, he put all his weight on it and the fleece abruptly came down. Jason fell and the golden fleece came down on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He struggled to get up, but could not move.
"Fabius! Creon! Help me!"
Delaney bent down over the fleece. "Jesus Christ," he said. "It weighs a ton!" He grunted and pulled it off Jason. "I'll be damned," he said, looking at the fleece. "It really is gold!"
"Yes, exquisite craftsmanship, wouldn't you say?"
Steiger spun around. "Who said that?" The voice had spoken in English and there was something about it that was unpleasantly familiar.
A tall figure in a long, hooded cloak came out from behind one of the stone altars on the far side of the clearing. A plasma pistol was held in his right hand. With his left hand, he reached up and pulled back the hood which concealed his face. His dark complected Slavic features were handsome, marred only by the long scar that ran from beneath his left eye, across his cheekbone and down to the corner of his mouth. A thick shock of curly black hair gave him a Byronic aspect and his bright green eyes stared at them mockingly. "Drakov!" said Andre.
"Who are you?" said Medea. "Where did you come from?"
"That need not concern you," Nikolai Drakov said to her in her own language.
"It concerns me!" said Jason, moving toward Drakov with his sword raised. Drakov fired a plasma charge at the ground in front of Jason. The white hot blast burst into blue flame on the rocks. Jason leaped back with a cry.
"Think twice before you raise your sword against a god, Jason of Iolchos," Drakov told him. "That was merely a warning. I have no
wish to harm you, but if you attempt to interfere, the next ball of fire will not miss you." He looked at the agents, smiled and switched to English. "The same applies to the three of you, of course."
"I should have known," Delaney said. "I should have known we'd be running into you again."
"Yes, we do meet in the oddest places, don't we, Mr. Delaney?" Drakov said. "By the way, allow me to convey my belated condolences on the death of Lt. Col. Priest. He was a worthy adversary. A pity I was cheated of my chance to kill him. However, I see his place has been taken by my old friend Martingale. Or is it Sharif Khan? Tell me, am I allowed to know your real name or will you present me with yet another alias?"
"It's Steiger. Col. Creed Steiger." Drakov smiled. "All the time we've known each other and we're only now being properly introduced. It's fortunate I let you live when I had you at my mercy in the Khyber Pass. If I hadn't, I never would have known whom I had killed."
"A situation you're finally going to remedy, I suppose," said Steiger.
"What, kill you, you mean? Indeed, not. It would upset my plans somewhat if I were to kill you now. Besides, it wouldn't be very sporting with you three armed only with those primitive weapons and dressed in those silly skirts, although the costume looks most becoming on you, Miss Cross. No, your lives are safe enough," said Drakov. "At least for the time being."
"What's this all about, Nikolai?" said Steiger. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Conducting a rather interesting experiment," said Drakov, "of which you three have been an integral part. When I sent the centaur through the confluence, I had an idea you three would be the ones to come. Of course, it didn't have to be you, but I'm rather pleased it was. It's made it all a great deal more amusing."
"So it was a plot to draw us here right from the start," said Delaney. "But why? What do they hope to gain that could be worth the chances they're taking?"
"By 'they,' I assume you mean your counterparts in this timeline, the Special Operations Group," said Drakov. "The S.O.G. has not been entirely responsible for what you've seen. In fact, they will think you were responsible, which is not surprising as I have gone to a good deal of trouble to encourage them in this belief."