Mythos: A Retelling of the Myths of Ancient Greece

Just as Cadmus’s brother Thasos had settled a smaller nearby island, called Thasos, and Phoenix had given his name to the Phoenician kingdom, so the third of Cadmus’s brothers, Cilix, now abandoned the quest for Europa, returning east to Asia Minor to establish his own kingdom, which he called Cilicia.fn5

With Harmonia by his side and a large retinue of loyal followers from Tyre in attendance upon them both, Cadmus headed for Delphi to consult the oracle. He knew in his bones, as all heroes do, that he was destined for greatness, but he did not know quite where his future lay; and he still needed guidance in the matter of his search for the lost Europa.

You already know enough about oracles to be unsurprised by the eccentricity of the Pythia’s response.

‘Cadmus, son of Agenor, son of Poseidon,’ she chanted. ‘Cast aside the quest for your sister and follow instead the heifer marked with the half moon. Follow the cow until it drops down exhausted. Where it falls, there must you build.’

‘Build what?’

‘Farewell, Cadmus, son of Agenor, son of Poseidon.’

‘What cow? I see no cow.’

‘Where the cow falls, there must Cadmus, son of Agenor, son of Poseidon, build.’

‘Yes, but this cow …’

‘The heifer with the half moon will help Harmonia and her hero, son of Agenor, son of Poseidon.’

‘Look here …’

‘Farewe-e-e-e-ll …’

Cadmus and Harmonia looked at each other, shrugged and quit Delphi with their retinue of loyal Tyrians. It was possible that a cow really would materialize magically before them, or perhaps some celestial messenger might appear to guide them to such an animal. In the meantime, they might as well look around.

Now, Delphi and its oracle, stadium and temples are situated in the area of Greece called Phocis. The King of Phocis, PELAGON, hearing that Harmonia and Cadmus – by now famous throughout the land because of his gift of the alphabet – were in the area, sent out messengers to invite them to stay as his guests of honour at the royal palace. It was an invitation the travel-strained pair and their hungry retinue were only too pleased to accept.

The Phocian Games

Three days of feasting and revelry in their honour had passed agreeably and uneventfully when Cadmus and Harmonia, taking an evening walk about the palace gardens between banquets, found their way stopped by Pelagon’s father, AMPHIDAMAS.

‘I had a dream,’ said Amphidamas, coming close to the couple and breathing the fumes of honey-wine all over them, ‘in which you, Cadmus, ran races, hurled javelins, threw discuses and won the greatest prize the world has ever seen. Now, my son Pelagon inaugurates the Phocian Games tomorrow. A little local meeting, but dreams are dreams and have a purpose. When does Morpheus ever lie? My advice is that you enter.’ With a benevolent hiccup, he tottered away.

‘Well now,’ said Cadmus, putting an arm about Harmonia’s waist and gazing wistfully up at the moon. ‘Why not? The man has not yet been born who can throw a discus or a javelin as far as I can. And I believe I’m pretty swift around the track too.’

‘My hero!’ sighed Harmonia, burying her head on his chest. She did this not in worshipful admiration but to muffle her laughter – she found the men’s vanity when it came to physical prowess endlessly amusing.

The competition against which Cadmus pitted himself next day consisted chiefly of puny local youths and pot-bellied palace guards. When he sent the discus right out of the palace grounds with his first throw, a servant had to be sent to fetch it and the crowd cheered. By the end of the afternoon Cadmus had won every event. Harmonia glared at the women and girls who blew him kisses and threw flowers at his feet.

Pelagon, who was not a rich monarch, sent his chamberlain in search of a suitable prize for his noble victor ludorum.

‘People of Phocis,’ cried the king, placing a hastily plaited crown of olive leaves on Cadmus’s brow, ‘behold your champion, our honoured guest Prince Cadmus of Tyre. And here comes a prize worthy of his great speed and strength and grace.’

A loud cheer went up, which fell into a puzzled silence as the palace chamberlain came through the crowd driving ahead of him a large cow. The silence bubbled into a titter and the titter burst into outright laughter. The cow chewed its cud, lifted its tail and sent out a liquid spatter of dung from its rear. The crowd hooted with derision.

Pelagon turned scarlet. His father Amphidamas said to Cadmus with a wink, ‘Oh well. Morpheus can’t be right all the time, hey?’

But Harmonia nudged Cadmus in great excitement. ‘Look,’ she breathed, ‘look, Cadmus, look!’

Cadmus saw at once what had attracted her attention. On the cow’s back was a mark in the shape of a half moon. There was no other way to describe it. A clear half moon!

Pelagon was murmuring something unconvincing in his ear about the animal’s pedigree and high milk yield, but Cadmus interrupted him.