Heroes: Volume II of Mythos

9. T HE G IRDLE OF H IPPOLYTA ‘Far to the east, along the banks of the Thermodon, lives the race of Amazons!’ said ADMETE, breathless with excitement. Heracles bowed. Eurystheus’s daughter was being ‘given’ a Labour of Heracles as a coming of age present. ‘Set him to do anything you want, my darling,’ Eurystheus had told her. ‘The more difficult and dangerous, the better. Heracles has had it too easy.’ Admete had known straight away what she would demand of the hero. Like many young Greek girls, she worshipped this band of strong, independent and fiercely unapologetic women and had long dreamed of being an Amazon. ‘The daughters of Ares and the nymph HARMONIA,’ she told Heracles, ‘the Amazons dedicate themselves to fighting and to each other.’ ‘So I have heard,’ said Heracles. ‘Their queen …’ Admete was flushed with excitement now, ‘is HIPPOLYTA. Hippolyta the brave, Hippolyta, the beautiful, Hippolyta the entirely fierce. No man can conquer her.’ ‘That too have I heard.’ ‘She wears a belt, a most marvellous jewelled girdle, given her by her father Ares. I want it.’ ‘Excuse me?’ ‘You are to bring me the girdle of Hippolyta.’ ‘And if she would rather keep it?’ ‘Don’t toy with my daughter, Heracles. Obey her.’ So it was that Heracles found himself sailing east towards the land of the Amazons. The fame of these proud female warriors had spread throughout the ancient world.fn23 Riding on horseback – the first warriors in the world to do so – the Amazons had defeated all the tribes they had encountered in battle. When they conquered and subdued a people they took home the males that they judged would father the best daughters and bred with them. When the men had done their duty by them they were killed, like the males of many species of spider, mantis and fish. They put to death any male babies they bore, raising only girls to join their band. If they were accused of cruelty, they pointed out how many girl-children around the ‘civilised’ world were left exposed on mountainsides to diefn24 and how many women were used as childbearing livestock and given no other purpose in life than to serve, please and obey. By no means did Heracles underestimate the magnitude of the task facing him. But when his ship reached Pontus, on the southern coast of the Black Sea, he was surprised to be met by a friendly welcoming party including Queen Hippolyta herself. The Amazons and their queen were not the only heroic fighters to have achieved a reputation across the ancient world. For more than eight years Heracles had uncomplainingly achieved the impossible, and the news of his strength, courage and fortitude against such stacked and unjust odds had travelled far and wide. He had rid the world of much menace and terror. He had met magic and monstrosity with valour and dignity. Only the churlish or envious could fail to admire him. The Amazons’ admiration for valour, dignity and strength had overcome their instinctive distrust and dislike of men enough for them to welcome him and his crew with warmth and respect. Heracles and his crew were garlanded with flowers and feasted on the banks of the Thermodon.fn25 Heracles was deeply attracted by Hippolyta. She had poise, wit and a natural air of command that was rare in the world. She never raised her voice or seemed to expect attention or adoration, and yet Heracles found himself attending to no one else and felt closer to veneration for her than for any other woman, or indeed man, he had known. She seemed to like him equally. If there was a trace of a smile on her face when she saw that her hands together were nowhere near meeting around the muscles of his upper arm, it was a smile not so much of mockery as of amusement at the freakish wonder of such a specimen living in the world. ‘This will do it,’ she said, unbuckling her belt. She was right, her waist and Heracles’ biceps had the same dimensions. Fixing the clasp, she announced that it improved his appearance greatly. ‘That horrible lion’s head and pelt, the ugly club … no doubt they’re useful for frightening fools and cowards, but a man should be never be afraid to show a little colour and sparkle.’ She smiled again as Heracles examined the jewelled belt around his arm. She noticed that his face was clouded with a frown. ‘Don’t tell me that you are afraid that such a bangle does not consort with your great masculinity? I thought better of you than that.’ ‘No, no,’ said Heracles. ‘It isn’t that …’ ‘What then?’ ‘You say that you have heard of the tasks my cousin Eurystheus has set me?’ ‘All the world knows of the Labours of Heracles.’ ‘Is that what they call them?’ ‘Even if we allow for some natural exaggeration of your feats as the tales are passed mouth to ear, it seems you have done miraculous things.’ ‘I’m sure most of the stories are nonsense.’ ‘Well, is it true that when you carried the Erymanthian Boar into Eurystheus’s throne room he was so frightened that he dived headfirst into a stone jar?’ ‘That, yes, that is true,’ Heracles conceded. ‘And that you fed Diomedes to his own horses?’ Again Heracles nodded. ‘So tell me, great hero, what it is that can trouble you now?’ ‘Well, you see, I’m on the ninth of these tasks, these “Labours” as you call them. That is the reason I am here.’ Hippolyta stiffened. ‘I hope it is not to drag Hippolyta in chains before that vile tyrant?’ ‘No, no … not that. It’s this girdle …’ He looked down at the belt circling his arm. ‘His daughter, Admete, sent me to fetch it. But now that I have met you I cannot find it in my heart to …’ ‘Is that all? It is yours, Heracles. Accept it gladly as my gift to you. One warrior to another.’ ‘But it was a gift from your father, Ares the god.’ ‘And now it is a gift from your lover Hippolyta the woman.’ ‘They say that its wearer is invincible in battle. Can this be true?’ ‘I have worn it since I was fourteen and I have never been defeated.’ ‘Then I have no right …’ ‘Please. I insist. Now, let me see if all your dimensions are in proportion …’ We will leave Heracles and Hippolyta locked together in a fierce embrace in her royal tent on the banks of the Thermodon. You might be thinking that this Ninth Labour had come all too easily to Heracles. Certainly the goddess Hera believed just that. The hatred she bore him had not diminished over the years. If anything it grew more intense each time he triumphed over yet another adversity. His popularity enraged her. She had set out to humiliate and destroy him. Instead there were children and even towns being named after him and songs being composed about him praising his strength, courage and lack of self-pity. She would show the world they had chosen the wrong man to celebrate. In the form of an Amazon warrior Hera walked the riverbank sowing confusion, doubt and distrust. ‘Heracles cannot be trusted … he is here to kidnap our queen … I have heard that even now his men are preparing to take us prisoner, rape us and sell us as slaves in the markets of Argolis … We should kill him before he gets a chance to destroy us all …’ In the tent Heracles sat up, suddenly alert. ‘What is that noise?’ ‘Just my women celebrating with your crew, no doubt,’ said Hippolyta sleepily. ‘I can hear horses.’ Heracles leaned across Hippolyta’s prone form and lifted a flap of canvas. Amazons on horseback were firing arrows at his men! A party of them was galloping towards the tent. At once the blood throbbed in his temples and a red mist closed all around him. The smiles and hospitality had been a trap. Hippolyta had tried to make a fool of him. ‘Traitor! he cried. ‘You … deceitful … witch!’ He took her head in his hands and with the last raging word he twisted her neck round so that it snapped like the dry branch of a tree. He snatched up his club and ran out of the tent. He swung and dismounted three of the Amazons riding towards him with one sweeping blow. The others saw Hippolyta’s belt around his arm, the symbol of her authority and her invincibility. The fight went out of them. Heracles’ men, heartened by the sight of their leader with his blood up and roaring like a lion, rallied. In a short time the banks of the river were littered with the bodies of dead Amazons. Heracles and his men broke the long return journey back to Mycenae by putting in at Troy. It was ruled at this time by LAOMEDON, grandson of the king TROS who gave Troy and Trojans their names, and the son of King ILOS, who gave the city its other name, Ilium, as in Homer’s great epic, the Iliad. Troy was a fine city, the construction of its walls had recently been completed by the gods Apollo and Poseidon. But the greedy, duplicitous and foolish Laomedon refused to pay them for their work. In revenge Apollo fired plague arrows into the city, while Poseidon flooded the plain of Ilium and sent a sea monster there to harry and devour such Trojans as tried to escape their disease-ridden city. The priests and oracles of Troy told Laomedon that the only way to save Troy from disease, famine and disaster was to chain his daughter HESIONE naked to a rock in the floodplain, for the sea monster to feast uponfn26. This was the situation when Heracles arrived. He promised to free Hesione if he could have the horses that had been bred from Zeus’s gift to Tros.fn27 Laomedon agreed and Heracles promptly killed the monster and rescued Hesione. Once more Laomedon reneged on a deal. He refused to honour the agreement and give up his horses. There wasn’t time for Heracles to put this right. His year was nearly up and he needed to get to Eurystheus and be sent on his Tenth Labour. Vowing to return and have his revenge on Laomedon, he made his way back to Mycenae.