The Twelve Labours of Hercules Page 7
full stretch, ending up falling flat into the shallow stinking water. But now he had a weapon. He picked himself up and turned back to look towards his enemy. The Hydra stood menacingly in the middle of the grove of trees, many of which were now burning. Without a word, Hercules sprinted towards the beast, whirling his sword so that it flashed in the morning sunlight. In just a few seconds he had cut off two of the monster’s heads but, each time, new ones grew from the open necks and the Hydra attacked again. Unable to hold his breath longer, Hercules retreated once more to fill his lungs.
Looking back at the Hydra standing in the middle of the grove of burning trees gave Hercules an idea. This time he advanced slowly, letting the beast come towards him and so bringing it closer to the largest part of the fire. The beast attacked, its heads striking at Hercules from all directions, but Hercules did not strike back. He ducked and weaved and waited for the right moment. Then he swung his blade with lightning speed, severing three heads that had grown from a single neck. Even as the Hydra roared in pain, Hercules grabbed the injured neck and thrust the end into the hottest part of the fire. The beast roared again and shook its neck free from his grasp, but the fire had done its work. The neck was sealed and no new heads grew from it. Having learnt the secret to victory, Hercules made short work of sealing the other necks in the fire. When the last head was severed, the Hydra fell down dead. Now Hercules turned his attention to the beast’s lair. He made a mask to wrap around his face, to protect himself against the poisonous fumes, took a burning branch to light his way and entered the cave.
Inside, the cave was damp and the Hydra’s poison still hung in the air. Even though Hercules was wearing a mask, it hurt his throat to breathe, but he knew he had to fulfil his mission and search the cave. The light from the burning branch flickered, throwing moving shadows around the rock walls, making it difficult to see clearly. Hercules moved forward carefully and steadily until he rounded a corner and came into a large cavern. There he found what he was looking for. On the floor of the cavern stood dozens of enormous eggs, each one reaching almost as high as Hercules’ waist.
“Lucky I found you before you hatched,” he said to himself. Then one by one he smashed the eggs with his sword. Each one was filled with a disgusting dark green slime, which burnt his skin where it touched him and made his sword’s blade smoke. On he went until the sword melted away, and he had to use rocks to smash the eggs. Finally there were no eggs left, and Hercules found himself at the far side of the cavern. By now his burning branch had almost gone out, and he could see a glow coming from an opening nearby. Thinking there might be more eggs, Hercules went through the opening and down the short tunnel beyond until he came to two stone pillars, which blocked the way. Looking past the pillars, he could see the glow of fire, and he could smell brimstone.
“This looks like an entrance to the Underworld, the home of the god Hades,” Hercules said quietly to himself, “all kinds of beasts live down there. It is probably where the Hydra came from. I had better seal it up.” So saying, he put his back to the tunnel wall, placed his feet on the nearest pillar and pushed with all his might. With a tearing, crashing sound, the pillar fell to the tunnel floor. Hercules was just about to topple the second pillar, when he happened to look up and saw that a crack was already opening in the roof above him. A shower of pebbles fell on his head, and then the cave began to collapse. Hercules ran as fast as he had ever run before, back to the chamber of eggs, with stones now falling all around him. As he entered the chamber, his torch went out entirely, and he threw the branch aside, continuing on through the darkness, trusting his instincts to lead him in the right direction. Behind him, he could hear the rumble of the collapse turning into a roar of crashing rock, but he knew he couldn’t afford to look back. On he raced until, with a surge of relief, he saw the light of the cave entrance ahead of him. With a final effort he dived through the entrance, emerging into the light in a shower of stones and a cloud of dust. Moments later the cave entrance itself collapsed, sealing the cavern and the entrance to the Underworld forever. Hercules picked himself up and was about to dust himself down when he saw Iolaus. The young man was bending over the body of the Hydra, although he had stopped what he was doing when the cave collapsed. Now he straightened up and came over to Hercules carrying a quiver full of arrows.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” replied Hercules, “a little dust but that’s all. What have you been up to?”
Iolaus held the quiver of arrows out to Hercules, “These have been dipped in the Hydra’s blood. It is a deadly poison and the merest scratch from one of these arrows will kill instantly,” then, after a pause, he added, “You might want to be careful with them.” Hercules took the arrows, impressed once again by his new companion’s resourcefulness.
The Third Challenge: The Ceryneian Hind
Iolaus and Hercules travelled back to Troezen at a more relaxed pace. They spent the night sleeping outside under the stars, as Hercules now preferred to do, having spent so long in the wilderness, and arrived at the city gates the next morning. Hercules was keen to go back to the baths, since he had been disturbed the last time. First, however, he followed his duty and went to the palace to tell Pittheus of the Hydra’s death. Iolaus said that he would go to return the chariot and prepare provisions for the next challenge. After all, he said, there was no knowing how soon they might need to set out again, or for how long. As Hercules walked up to the palace, he realised with surprise that he hadn’t objected to the idea of the young man joining him on his next adventure. A few days ago he had been worried that Iolaus would get in the way or, worse, get himself killed, but Iolaus had shown great wisdom and bravery in the fight against the Hydra. Still, Hercules reminded himself, Iolaus was only mortal and needed to be careful.
When Hercules arrived at the palace, he was immediately shown to the throne room. The guard at the door recognised him and held the door open, allowing Hercules to go straight in. It was darker in the room than outside, but even so, Hercules was immediately able to see that the figure facing him from the opposite end of the room wasn’t the king. This was a young woman, dressed for the hunt, in dark green clothes with her hair tied up and a bow slung across her back. At her side stood two huge hunting dogs. They bared their fangs when they saw Hercules, and the woman narrowed her green eyes as she stared at him.
With a single fluid motion Hercules unslung his bow and loosed an arrow, aimed straight at the woman’s head. It only took him the time it takes for a bird’s wingbeat to launch the arrow, but the woman was just as quick. She, too, suddenly had a bow in her hands and shot her arrow with such perfection that the two missiles met, with a clang, in mid-air, clattering to the stone floor in the dead centre of the room. Man and woman glared at one another, and, for a hearbeat, it seemed like they would fire again, but then a smile began to form on Hercules’ face. It broke into a grin as he strode forward to greet the woman.
“Artemis, it is good to see you,” he cried out.
Although Artemis was a full daughter of Zeus, and a goddess in her own right, Hercules loved her as a favourite sister. They had many things in common, not least because Artemis was legendary for her skills in hunting.
“Hercules, brother,” she replied, as they met in the middle of the room, next to the fallen arrows, and hugged one another warmly.
“I almost had you that time,” said Hercules, looking at the arrows and shaking his head.
“You would have to be a lot quicker than that to catch me out,” laughed Artemis, then she was suddenly serious, “But enough of this merriment. I have come from Olympus with a serious purpose. Very serious indeed, because it comes from father Zeus himself, and also because it involves a hunt ...” Hercules chuckled to himself, as Artemis continued. He knew that she loved to hunt, and so that bit of the challenge would seem important to her, but even so, surely not so important as to be mentioned in the same breath as the great god Zeus. Unless this was the hunt of a lifetime. Whatever he w
as to be sent after must be a fearsome beast indeed to have impressed even Artemis. Automatically Hercules reached for the handle of his club, only to remember that it was at the bottom of the Lernean swamp. He would have to cut himself a new one before he set off, or maybe pick one up on the way. This made him think of all the other preparations he would need to make and …
“Are you listening to me?” snapped Artemis, and Hercules realised that she had been telling a long story.
“Yes, sister,” said Hercules, blushing, for in truth he hadn’t heard a word of what she had said. Fortunately, King Pittheus, who now emerged from the shadows to the side of the throne room, came to his rescue.
“I found the story of your childhood fascinating,” he said, “I had no idea that your silver bow was made by the Cyclops, or that the goat-god Pan gave you your hunting dogs, or that Zeus himself gave you every mountain in the world for your home -”
“Except Olympus, of course,” interrupted Hercules.
“Ah, so you were listening,” said Artemis, “but I can see your attention wanders easily, so I will get to the point. When I was still just a girl,