Heroes: Volume II of Mythos

T HE E AGLE K ING If King Aeëtesfn61 was surprised or alarmed by the band of renowned heroes that trooped into his court, he concealed it well. He accepted with dignified courtesy the gifts Jason offered, before introducing his family. ‘My wife, Queen Idyia …’ Jason bowed towards an old lady, who inclined her head with markedly stiff and frosty disdain. ‘My daughter, Medea …’ A pair of green eyes flashed towards him and turned away. ‘My daughter Chalciope …’ Something approaching a smile here. ‘And my son, Absyrtus …’ A boy of eleven or twelve gave a small wave, blushed and looked down at the ground. ‘It is an honour, majesty,’ said Jason with another bow. ‘You have sailed all the way here without having to change ship, you say?’ ‘Indeed.’ ‘Remarkable. You must tell me how you managed such a feat. I should have thought it was impossible. Meanwhile, you are all welcome here. Where are you bound after this? Even further east?’ ‘This is our final destination before we return home, my lord king.’ ‘Colchis? We are honoured. I wonder what you expect to find here.’ ‘We have come to claim the fleece of the golden ram that Phrixus, son of Athamas, left here.’ ‘Oh really?’ ‘My grandfather Cretheus was a brother of Athamas. Through him I am the rightful King of Iolcos and have come to take the Fleece back to its home.’ King Aeëtes stroked his beard. This young man was resourceful, he could see that. He had with him some of the most celebrated warriors and wonder-workers alive. If he really was the grand-nephew of Athamas, his claim to the Fleece was just. Aeëtes could hardly send him and his men back to Greece with a blank refusal. They had – how, he could not guess – sailed directly here. They must have a most remarkable vessel. They might return with a whole fleet of them. Even if he somehow managed to kill them all before they could get back home … a mass poisoning at a feast, for example … the scandal would reverberate around the civilised world. Orpheus alone was as famous as any man since Perseus. Others would come for revenge. No, he must be cleverer than that. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you come for the Fleece, do you? I wondered if the day might dawn when someone would. I prayed to the gods for guidance many years ago on this very matter. They told me that the Fleece could only be taken by one prepared to undergo three tests.’ ‘Tests?’ said Jason. ‘If you agree to undertake them, the Fleece will be yours.’ ‘May I know what they are?’ ‘First you must agree. And your men must swear not to aid you in any way.’ Jason could see no other choice. ‘Very well. Name them.’ ‘You swear before the gods to accept these trials as the only way to take the Fleece?’ ‘I swear before the gods.’ ‘And your men?’ Jason turned and indicated to the Argonauts that they too must assent. They went down on one knee, struck their breasts and pledged their oath. Aeëtes concealed his delight very well. ‘Now. The great god Hephaestus made a gift to me. A pair of bulls with mouths and hoofs of bronze – the fire-breathing Oxen of Colchis, the Khalkotauroi.’ ‘I have heard of them.’ ‘Doubtless you have. They are very famous. Your first task is to yoke these two great beasts together and plough a field with them.’ ‘Consider it done.’ ‘Good. I am a collector of antiquities and objects of curiosity and historical interest. I have in my possession some of the dragon’s teeth that Cadmus used when he founded Thebes. You will sow the furrows you have ploughed with the oxen of Hephaestus with these teeth. When this is done, armed men will rise up from the earth. You must defeat them. That will be task number two.’ ‘Splendid,’ said Jason picking an invisible thread from the sleeve of his tunic. ‘A chance to get some exercise.’ ‘Thirdly, you will go to the Grove of Ares where the Fleece hangs on the branches of a sacred oak. A dragon that never sleeps is coiled around its trunk. Overpower the dragon and the Fleece will be yours. ‘Phew,’ said Jason. ‘For a moment there I was worried that you were going to make it something difficult.’ Aeëtes smiled a thin smile. He knew bravado when he saw it. He knew he was safe. Jason felt none of the confidence he had publicly shown. In an ever-darkening mood he followed the servants that led him to his guest room. When he was alone he threw himself on the bed. ‘Why, gods,’ he groaned, ‘why did you get me all the way here only to place such an insuperable barrier before me? First Pelias sends me on one impossible quest and now, when I am close, another king sets me more unachievable tasks. Am I a mouse, gods, to be batted back and forth in your cruel catlike claws?’