The Arms Of Hercules Page 18

I entered this aperture but could advance for only a few yards before it narrowed so drastically that it became impassable. Where the passage narrowed, I began to widen it by breaking chunks out of the walls with blows of my fists.

  Progress by this means was painfully slow because of the difficulty of concentrating the force in precisely the way I wanted. And not many minutes passed before I was brought to a halt, then driven into a retreat, by the tremendous heat of nearly molten rock not far ahead. If there had once been a passage leading farther down, it was certainly closed now. Whether the shadowy realm called Tartarus was anywhere nearby was more than I could guess.

  I might have tried to force my way through, at what appeared to be considerable risk; but there was no real reason to believe that I would encounter anything but greater heat, and more rock, behind the layers that were now visible in front of me.

  Whether my special powers might be equal to the challenge of protecting my body from damage by molten rock, I did not know, but I had to assume that the pain of such a contact would be terrible. Beside this, the dangers posed by lion, Boar, and Hydra were shrunken into insignificance. Here, it seemed, I was at last beginning to encounter the powers that really ruled the world.

  Slowly I climbed back to the rim of the pit, where the onlookers expressed their relief at seeing me emerge alive. Enkidu especially was grateful, and the Artisan had a dozen questions about the nature of the rock below.

  As to what might have happened to the Face of Shiva, I could only speculate that it could have been picked up by one of the minions of infernal Hades and carried off to some stronghold deep in Tartarus. I wondered if the Lord of the Underworld might have made a secret alliance with the Giants, and by concealing the Face intended to keep any human from regaining its powers and putting them to work on the gods' side in the great conflict. But I supposed a more likely possibility was that Hades meant to create a new Shiva by giving the Face to some mortal he thought he could trust to be his ally in the uncertain times that seemed to lie ahead for gods and men alike.

  Enkidu and I now prepared to depart on our next mission. Again I wished fervently that Daedalus might come with us, but again he declined—reluctantly, I thought. He had essential tasks to perform elsewhere.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A Place Called Ilium

  Until the last minute I hoped that Daedalus might change his mind and agree to accompany us on our quest for the Apples. By his own admission he was eager to get his hands on one of those strange fruits. Also I thought he would have given much to be present at my first encounter with a Giant, which seemed likely on my current mission. The true nature of those creatures, the gods' Titanic enemies, seemed to be what now interested the Artisan above all else. But Daedalus only repeated regretfully that he had very important work to do elsewhere. I did not doubt that; but I strongly suspected also that he was deeply afraid of such things as Giants, as every man has a right to be.

  Enkidu and I found the Skyboat just where we had left it, at the quay in Kandak harbor. Larger vessels were now tied up on both sides, but our boat continued to occupy its small space, invisible to any eyes but my nephew's and mine, until we came to claim it.

  The Artisan had taken the time to walk with us to the boat, and as we stepped aboard he gave me some final words of advice.

  "Your strength is awesome, Hercules. But you are not immortal."

  "I know that," I responded impatiently. But deep in my heart I thought I was immune to death, as all strong and healthy young men are wont to do.

  Voyaging boldly out from the island of Corycus, with the full confidence of youth, in our small boat that seemed, happily, almost immune to the adverse effects of wind and wave, Enkidu and I set about trying to fulfill the expectations of the gods.

  I was determined, at the very least, to keep the bargain that I now seemed to have made with Zeus, and with that faction of the gods who were allied with him.

  Would you believe that we were so young and foolish as to entertain every expectation of success?

  * * *

  Had the Artisan been with us in our little boat, he could have told us much more, in the long hours of our next days of travel, about the gods and about the Giants, too. Though his usual concern was mundane matters, still he knew more about the Olympians than almost any other human being on earth, by reason of the fact that he so often had dealings with them.

  On Corycus, Enkidu and I had learned some disturbing things: not only how frightened the gods were of these same Giants, but how little Zeus and the others knew, how much they seemed to have mysteriously forgotten, about their ancient enemies.

  I also had at least begun to have some understanding of the special role that I was required to play. How I had been designed and bred to order, as it were; created as a handy tool to carry out the will of Zeus.

  We soon discovered that the tutelary sprite assigned us by Hermes still accompanied the Skyboat.

  Our voyage this time was much longer than our previous trip from the mainland to Corycus. We sailed even at night, trusting to the work of the gods to keep us on course under the stars. Blessed as we were with a superbly reliable compass-pyx, we felt no need to creep along the coast, keeping land in sight at all times, to avoid getting lost. Even so, the great irregularity of the northern shore of the Great Sea several times brought land into our sight on our right hand; and so it happened that our route took us close to the seaside plain and city of Troy, which some prefer to call by the name of Ilium.

  At one point, several days into our journey and hundreds of miles from Corycus, where the shoreline curved out near our almost straight westerly course, my eye was caught by the sight of something there on shore, a spot of pink, of a shape appropriate for a human form. I tapped Enkidu on the shoulder and told him to steer in closer yet. The pink spot was moving, or rather wiggling about in the same place.

  "Steer in closer," I ordered again, shading my eyes with one hand and squinting into the sun-glare. Enkidu, with one hand resting on our compass-pyx, thought the appropriate thoughts, and our small boat steered itself according to his will.

  When we were near enough, the spot of tawny pink began to look for all the world like a long-haired human being chained naked to a rock, halfway up a small cliff and only a little above the sea. It might be expected that any victim left in such a spot would drown if the tide came in high enough. From the top of the little seaside cliff, the barren land sloped gradually inland for half a mile or so, to a kind of crest. Along the elevation, many tents had been erected. At a distance, I could not yet tell if there were people on that ridge, but there were what looked like piles of stone, purposefully arranged. It was evident that a huge construction project was under way.

  And when we had slowed our Skyboat's speed and come a little closer still, we could see plainly that the chained human was in fact a young and comely female. Soon we could be sure that she was completely unclothed, and also that she was still very much alive, for she began to move her arms and legs, as much as the burden of her chains allowed, and began to cry for help, sounding a thin wail of despair that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  "What in the Underworld is the meaning of this?" I demanded of the world in general. I had heard of human lives being offered to the gods, but never seen the business before.

  "Must be some kind of sacrifice," Enkidu suggested. "Or this girl's done something that deserved one monster of a punishment. Or maybe both."

  Meanwhile, our sprite seemed agitated, buzzing invisibly about my ears. This conveyed a sense of urgency, but was no help in choosing a course of action.

  "Whatever it's all about, I'm putting a stop to it." I suppose a majority of men in my place would have been afraid to interfere, not wanting to risk insulting any deity by thwarting an intended sacrifice. But I felt I was beginning to grow accustomed to the gods, and Enkidu was generally brave enough for anything, provided no Olympian was actually present.

  "So what are we going to do, Herc?"<
br />
  "I'm not sure yet. But put us in to shore, and we'll do something."

  We beached our small boat amid some lively surf, and I more or less tucked it under my arm and carried it up above the current level of the waves. My club I carried on a little farther, before putting it down at the base of the cliff so that I might have full use of both hands. Then I began to climb the small cliff toward the girl. Enkidu as usual was close on my heels.

  The cliff was less than thirty feet high, and its face was rough enough that no great climbing skill was required. In fact as we drew near out goal, I observed just above me a fairly well-worn path, which must have been used by those who had placed the maiden in such a perilous state, to bring her down from the cliff top to the ledge where she was bound. One branch of the path swung down the cliff, and I changed course slightly to reach it, making swifter progress possible.

  Walking erect again, coming around the last bend of the small trail, I found myself close enough to the victim to read the expression in her eyes, which were now locked on me in desperate entreaty.

  "Who's done this to you, girl?" I demanded. "But never mind, I'll have you free in a moment." And Enkidu did his best to reassure her, too.

  "Hurry, oh hurry! In a few minutes it will be too late!" And I could see where her wrists and ankles were raw and bleeding from struggling against the chains.

  She seemed very near my own age. Her body was shapely, or would have been had not the metal fetters stretched and pinched her into an awkward position. But I was not too much distracted to observe that, contrary to my earlier estimate, the site where she was chained stood substantially above high tide, as was plain from the appearance of the beach. Obviously it was not the ocean itself, not Poseidon as represented by a rising tide, that was expected to receive the sacrifice.

  The girl was whimpering. Now that help was at hand, she seemed ready to dissolve in helpless tears.

  "Don't worry, I'll have you out of there in no time. What's your name?"

  "Hesione. Oh, hurry, hurry! But my chains are welded on, and you have no tools."

  I was almost within reach of the intended victim when her gaze suddenly moved past me, and she screamed out: "It's coming, I see it! Quick, help!"

  * * *

  Murmuring something meant to be reassuring, I turned to behold the sea monster, a great blackish shape breaking the gray-green sea, heading in from deep water toward the shore. It looked at least twice as big as the Hydra, but I was glad to see that this time I would have only one head to contend with.

  Turning my back briefly on the horror again, I started to break the girl loose from her shackles. That job was more difficult for me than you might suppose, reluctant as I was to do even the slightest harm to her tender wrists and ankles. Also I had to shield her soft skin from flying fragments when the links gave way. But still, in less than a minute it was done.

  Meanwhile, Enkidu had gone sprinting back down the path to the foot of the cliff, where he snatched up my club. In a few moments more he had lugged it up the hill again and handed it to me.

  Thinking I might as well discourage further human sacrifices as much as possible, I tore out of the rock the bronze rings and spikes to which Hesione had been chained. Then I broke the links of the chains near to the wristlets and anklets that had been welded on by some skilled smith, who had somehow managed not to burn the soft skin. Very considerate of him, I thought.

  "Run, get up the cliff, the beast is coming!" I commanded the girl. And at the same time I turned to face the sea, ready for whatever it might bring against me. Still there was only the one great beast, now standing in the shallows, its head on its long neck looking levelly at me where I stood halfway up the cliff.

  The young woman's limbs were so stiff with being chained that she could barely stand and walk. Enkidu did not run ahead but gallantly pulled off his own tunic and draped it around Hesione's pale shivering shoulders. Then he began to help her up the path toward the cliff top.

  "Everywhere we go," I growled, "it seems the world is full of monsters." Hermes had given me no instructions regarding this one, so I felt free to deal with it as I thought best. Picking up a chunk of broken rock the size of my own head, I slung it with some violence toward the serpent. Unhappily my aim was no better than usual, and the missile missed by several yards, only kicking up a small splash a quarter of a mile out to sea.

  Then it would have to be the club again. As a rule, I did much better with the club. Sliding down the steep slope to the strip of beach, I took a couple of warm-up swings and waited.

  I had not long to wait. When the beast came out of the water, I could see that its entire body was darker than the Hydra, and vastly larger, but similarly reptilian in its overall appearance. Again I reassured myself that indeed this creature possessed only a single head, though its jaws looked large enough to seize and crunch up our boat in a bite or two. I thought I could feel the sand beneath my feet jar slightly each time one of its feet came down.

  And the huge head came swinging toward me, mouth agape, letting out a wave of foul breath almost enough to send me staggering. It seemed that at first the monster expected to be able to swallow me at a gulp, for I was evidently standing below the rock that served as its regular feeding tray, or trough. But as its head swayed near, instead of tender food it got a good knock from my club, which broke its lower jaw—all it managed to swallow on that particular attempt was a few of its own teeth.

  In the end this vast sea creature proved not as hard to finish off as the Hydra had been. Its single head, large as it was, evidently lacked enough brain to try to find a strategy, or even to know when it was time to retreat. Three or four more solid whacks on that ponderous skull were enough to crack thick bone into fragments, and in no more than a minute the whole vast body was down in the surf, where it twitched a few times and then lay still.

  The sprite came buzzing around my head, invisible as some benevolent mosquito. Perhaps it was offering congratulations. But I only shook my head in irritation. After a moment the humming presence moved away again.

  "Well, Daedalus," I murmured, in imaginary conversation with my mentor. "I suppose you might be eager to examine samples of this beast's flesh, as you did the Boar's. You missed out on the lion, but Hermes brought you some pieces of the Hydra, didn't he? I don't know if you might want this one—but if so, you're out of luck. It will all be eaten by little fish before I ever see you again."

  But a moment later a new thought occurred to me, and my actions contradicted my words. Picking up a new rock to use as a tool, and thinking that raw flesh would certainly spoil, I broke out a sample of the sea monster's bone, intending to take it when I could to the Artisan, on the chance that he might want it for his continuing investigations.

  Later, the story would spread that I had actually leaped, fully armed, down the sea monster's throat and had spent the next three days fighting in its belly. Some folks are eager to believe anything, provided only that it be marvelous enough.

  Briskly I climbed to the top of the little cliff, and asked the girl, who had already named herself Hesione, some questions. She proved to be the daughter of Laomedon, king of Troy.

  "And where is the king, that he allows his daughter to undergo such treatment?"

  The only answer to that question was a burst of tears.

  Now, standing at the top of the cliff, I could get a better look at the enormous construction project on the crest half a mile inland. Up there, someone had made a start at erectin huge, thick walls of stone. Below the walls I could now discern a mass of color that I supposed might be a throng of people. At either end, the foundation tiers of the wall curved back over the crest and out of sight. I decided that there was probably going to be room for a great city in the space they were enclosing. Here and there I began to imagine I could discern some scaffolding of logs. How tall the walls in general were intended to be could be seen by the impressive height of a certain tower that stood already virtually completed. A little further
inland I could make out the roofs of what seemed to be many tents and other makeshift dwellings.

  It seemed to me very doubtful that the people who were building their city on the hill would not know that such a terrible sacrifice was being made right on their doorstep.

  Whoever might have been watching from the high ridge would not have been able to see what happened to the monster down below the level of the cliff. But someone up there might have been able to see the reappearance of the girl atop the cliff, accompanied first by Enkidu and shortly afterward by me, and that would certainly have riveted their attention.

  Soon a squad of uniformed spear-carriers, followed by another of seeming dignitaries, the latter moving more slowly, appeared on their way down the long slope from the unfinished walls. When they got closer I could hear some of them shouting loudly, but whether they were inflamed with joy or outrage I could not tell at first.

  "There is my father," said Hesione, muffling a final sob and pointing to someone in the latter group, now only a couple of hundred yards away. "King Laomedon."

  As soon as I faced the advancing people boldly they grew cautious in their approach—and they stopped in their tracks when they came close enough to look over the little cliff and see that I had already killed the monster. Their angry cries faded to a cautious, marveling murmur as they saw the vast body rising and falling in the crashing surf. A few people ran down to the shore, and soon a clamor of voices went up, demanding to know what had turned the creature's head into a bloody ruin.

  The group led by Poseidon's priest reached us before the group surrounding the king.

  The servant of Neptune was garbed chiefly in seaweed, and he seemed a hybrid of priest and warrior, carrying weapons as well as what were obviously ritual objects, dishes and stalks of wheat, I thought him on the verge of apoplexy when he saw that the girl had been freed, and his rage was directed at me when he determined that I was somehow responsible.

  Not stopping to talk, or even, I fear, to think things out, he commanded one of his warriors to attack me.