Heroes: Volume II of Mythos

I N L YCIA Bellerophon landed Pegasus in a sheltered meadow some distance from the city of Xanthus, where the royal palace of Lycia stood. ‘You must stay there until I return for you,’ he whispered, hitching him to a tree. ‘Sorry to tie you up, but it’s a long rope. There’s a stream if you’re thirsty, and plenty of grass to graze on.’ Neither of them enjoyed the clamour, excitement and hysteria that the sight of Pegasus engendered. If he got to know and trust Iobates, Bellerophon would introduce them, but long experience of boys who thought it was funny to fire at Pegasus’ rump with catapults and even bows and arrows, and thieves who tried to capture him with nets and snares, had taught him that it was best to be cautious. Bellerophon walked by himself in to Xanthus, announced himself at the palace gates and was shown to the king’s private chamber. ‘Bellerophon, eh?’ said Iobates, taking the letter. ‘My son-in-law Proetus has written to me about you before. Says you’re a fine fellow. That sad business with your brother was clearly an accident. Could have happened to anyone. You’re welcome, young man. Very welcome.’ Iobates put the unopened letter down on his desk. He summoned his palace staff, called for wine, and arranged for a feast to welcome the Corinthian prince. ‘You do my house honour,’ Iobates said, raising a cup to his guest. ‘Sir, you are most kind.’ ‘You haven’t brought that famous flying horse with you, I don’t suppose?’ Bellerophon laughed. ‘No. Never believed that story myself. The nonsense people will swallow, eh? So, tell me,’ he said with a nudge. ‘Like to ride mortal horses on solid ground do you?’ Nine days and nights passed in which Iobates and Bellerophon rode, hunted, drank and feasted. The king treated the younger man as the son he had never had. He was blessed with two daughters: aside from the fearsome Stheneboea safely married off to Proetus in Mycenae, there was a younger unmarried daughter, PHILONOË, who still lived in the palace. She very quickly developed a crush on the handsome visitor. Bellerophon’s experience with her sister made him very wary of being alone in a room with Philonoë, which Iobates took as the sign of a decent and honourable nature. It was on the tenth day that Iobates, nursing a hangover, decided he really should clear the backlog on his desk. He found the letter from Proetus and unsealed it. He read the one line, centred on the single page, with gaping disbelief. ‘The bearer of this letter tried to rape my wife, your daughter. Kill him.’fn8 Iobates stared at the words for some time. He was now in precisely the same quandary that Proetus had been in. Bellerophon was a guest: he had stayed nine nights under the king’s roof. Iobates couldn’t contemplate killing a guest. What to do? What to do? Oh, why hadn’t he opened that damned letter straight away? An hour or so later Bellerophon came into the king’s chamber, rubbing his face. ‘Goodness me,’ he said. ‘You really are the most incredible host. I can’t imagine how much we drank last night. But forgive me, sir, you look distracted.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ Iobates tapped the letter on the desk and thought frantically. ‘Cares of state, you know. We have concerns in the kingdom. Great concerns …’ ‘Anything I can help with? You’ve only to say the word.’ ‘Well, now that you mention it …’ Yes! Of course. The very thing. Iobates cleared his throat. ‘Did you ever, I wonder,’ he said casually, ‘hear tell of the Chimerafn9?’ ‘No, sir. What is it?’ ‘She is a beast. A two-headed monster. Progeny, it is said, of Typhon and Echidna. She ravages the countryside around Methian, near the border with Caria and Pamphylia. Few who see her live to tell the tale, but word has it that she has the body and head of a lion. A second head, that of a goat, rises from her back. Her tail, some have claimed, is a venomous lashing serpent …’ ‘Surely not!’ ‘Well, you know what country people are like. Probably exaggerated, but it’s certain that the land all about is littered with dead and savaged livestock. Who knows what to think?’ ‘And you’d like me to find this creature and kill it?’ ‘It’s too much to ask, too much. You’re my guest. Besides, you’re just a young man … No, no, no.’ ‘Sir, I insist that you let me do this for you.’ Nothing that Iobates could say would dissuade Bellerophon. ‘But only the bravest hero could even get near. You’re far too young.’ ‘With respect, sir, that’s nonsense.’ ‘Besides, forgive me, but I haven’t told you the worst part yet. They say …’ Iobates lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, ‘they say the Chimera breathes fire! Yes! I’ve heard it sworn as fact. To go against her would be suicide. Anyone would understand if you backed out …’ Strangely, these desperate bids to offer the young man a way out seemed only to strengthen his resolve. Outwardly Iobates shook his head and clicked his tongue in distress. Inwardly he hugged himself. How cleverly he had played on the young hothead’s vanity and pride. There was no possibility that Bellerophon could subdue or slay the Chimera, whose immortal bloodlines made her one of the most terrible monsters ever to have risen from the earth. Bellerophon would most certainly die in the great jets of searing, roasting, devouring flame that the creature belched. Justice for daring to lay hands on Stheneboea and no stain on me, Iobates told himself, for harming a guest. Altogether a perfect solution. The King of Lycia helped himself to a fig and smiled.