Argonaut Affair

4

The Argo sailed out of the bay of Iolchos on a course heading toward the Isle of Sciathos, passing the Cape of Sepius and then turning north toward Mount Pelion. They followed the coastline, keeping the open sea on their right. With Tiphys at the helm, the ship moved smoothly through the water under the power of the Argonauts, rowing to the drumbeat cadence set by Argus. The sea was dead calm and there was little wind.

Rowing was hard work and Orpheus led them in a song to the rhythm of the cadence, so the task would seem a little easier. It wasn't long before the Argonauts were glistening with sweat from their exertions. All had stripped off their chitons and they rowed dressed only in their loincloths. Andre was unclothed from the waist up, as well. Her naked breasts were no cause for excitement, since it was not unusual in this time for women to have one or both breasts bared. The only comments resulting from her nakedness were those having to do with the degree of her muscularity.

The cult of the body was a passion with the ancient Greeks, among whom sport took on spiritual overtones. All of the Argonauts were in excellent physical condition. The temporal agents, however, were a product of a time when physical training was far more developed and augmented scientifically. Among the Argonauts, only Hercules boasted a more impressive physique. He shared his oar with Hylas, but this soon proved to be an impractical arrangement. Hylas could not reach forward far enough to make the complete rowing motion and he kept being dragged off his seat by his powerful master's strokes. It was decided to spare Hylas from the task, as Hercules proved quite capable of handling the oar all by himself, and thereafter the youth performed the duties of a cabin boy, fetching water or preparing food, tasks for which he seemed much more suited.

They stopped at Mount Pelion so Chiron's old pupils could Ash with him before they continued on their voyage. Dropping anchor just offshore, they waded in with Hercules carrying the slight Hylas on his shoulders, for the water was over the boy's head and he could not swim. The centaur, having seen the Argo from the heights, came down to greet them and escort them to his cave on Pelion. The delighted Hylas was treated to a ride upon the centaur's back as they made the climb.

At the centaur's cave, which was large and appointed comfortably with crude wooden furniture Chiron had built himself, they made a fire and sat down to a feast of venison, pork, fruits and vegetables and wine. Orpheus told the story of his descent down into Hell, which apparently many of the Argonauts had heard before, but they all listened attentively just the same.

He stood and walked into the center of the chamber, standing in the exact spot where his mellifluent tenor voice would echo best off the rock walls of Chiron's cavern. He stared down at the ground for a long moment and waited until absolute silence was achieved, then he jerked his head up abruptly, tossing his long dark curls, and his eyes seemed to glaze as he stared off into the infinite distance.

"Her name was Eurydice," he said, pronouncing the name as if it were a holy word, "and I loved her with all the mad young passion of a boy first struck by Cupid's arrow. One day, while she was running along a riverbank, a snake reared up and bit her. Her death was more than I could bear. All Thrace mourned her passing, but none mourned more than I. I alone could not accept her death. I refused to believe that she was lost to me forever. I thought a love so great as mine could reach out even into Hades and somehow bring her back to me. Night and day, I prayed to all the gods and sacrificed in all the temples until, at last, Cyrene, the goddess of the sea, heard my lament and took pity on me.

"She ordered the waters to be parted and I walked between them, descending down through the roiling waves to her where she ruled in the depths. There, surrounded by her nymphs, with sea anemones and creatures of the deep all around her, she told me to seek out Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea. 'For Proteus knows all,' she said. 'He knows all that is, all that has been, and all that is yet to be. Seize him, Orpheus,' she said to me, 'Seize him and hold him fast. Only fear will make him tell you what you wish to know. He will resist you and play upon your own fears to escape from you. He will assume the guise of beasts and monsters, yet you must not be afraid. If you relax your grip, he will swiftly leap into the sea and swim away and you shall never catch him. Hold fast to him,' Cyrene said, 'and the more he changes shape, the tighter you must hold him. Only when he reverts to his true form will you know that you have vanquished him. Then you may put your questions to him and he will be bound to answer.'

"She told me where to find the Old Man of the Sea and I journeyed far and wide until, at last, I found Proteus sleeping on a beach, his sleek form stretched out upon the sands. I crept up slowly and with the greatest of care, for Cyrene warned me that his hearing was acute, and then I leaped upon him, seizing him and holding on with all my strength! He gave a frightened start, then on the instant I perceived that I held not an old man with seaweed in his hair and a drowned look in his eyes, but a fearsome shark that writhed and thrashed and twisted, straining to fasten its terrible gaping jaws upon me!

"I screamed with terror, yet somehow I held on in desperation, and suddenly the shark was gone and in its place I held a scaled sea serpent which coiled its length about me, seeking to squeeze the very breath out of my chest! Yet even as I felt its coils tightening around me and it seemed as though my bones would burst, I held on tighter, squeezing back with every bit of strength I had! The serpent gave way to a fearsome dragon which beat its wings about my head and seared me with its breath. I made my grip still tighter, squeezing the creature's throat with all my might. The dragon disappeared and in its place I held a kraken, then a griffin, then a hideous mollusk that stung me with its slimy tendrils. Proteus changed into every terrifying creature known to man and still I would not release him until, at long last, succumbing to my choking hold, he returned, spent, to his true shape and I knew that I had won.

" 'I know what it is you wish to know of me,' Proteus said, and he told me how to find the Secret Gates of Taenarus and pass through them to the Underworld. He told me all that I must do and I followed his instructions, willing to brave any danger so that Eurydice could be restored to me. I descended into Hades and there, in the cold darkness, I found Charon the dreaded ferryman, who knew my purpose and conveyed me across the River Styx to the gates of Death's dominion. I encountered Cerebrus, the slathering three-headed hound that guards the gates, and as it howled and snapped at me, I lulled it with a song until the fearsome beast was curled beneath my feet and sleeping. I played my lyre and sang to the lost souls and eased their torment and their anguish. The Furies, yes, even Death himself, were spellbound by the profound lament I sang, spellbound because I sang with all my heart, my grief pouring out from the very bottom of my soul. And yes, I found her, on the very brink of the Inferno, my Eurydice, and I called out to her and I saw her shade approach.

"Proteus had warned me that I must not gaze upon her, for men must always avert their eyes from those of ghosts or gods, so remembering his words, I turned from her and went back the way I came, bidding her to follow me. Yet as I crossed the River Styx in Charon's ferry, a fear came over me that she may not have boarded with me, that she had been left behind, and powerless to fight the impulse, I turned around. For the briefest instant, I beheld her standing there and as our eyes met, I knew that all was lost.

"Three times did thunder crash and my love cried out, 'You have doomed me!' and faded from my sight like smoke dispersing on the winds. I cried out, pleading with the ferryman to turn around, but he would not take me back across. He drew up to the bank and pointed with his bony hand, showing me the way back to the light of day. I had no choice but to go, for my time had not yet come. Gladly would I have remained in Hades with my love, but the Fates had not decreed it should be so. There were other challenges before me, other voyages to make before the final voyage that would reunite me with my love.

"So that is why I am here with you tonight, my friends, as we embark upon this perilous quest. That is why I have no fear of whatever lies ahead, for each man must make his own voyage in his own time. Who knows what lies ahead of us? Come what may, be it glorious success or fatal failure, I know that in the end, I will make the journey down to Hades once again and this time, I will remain forever in the Underworld where spirits dwell, united with my Eurydice. I have learned that no man should fear his destiny and that no parting should bring sorrow, for all shall come together in the end."

He stood silently, looking down at the ground, then slowly returned to his seat as the Argonauts nodded and murmured their approval of the tale.

"It grows better each time he tells it," Euphemus said to Andre.

"Do you think any of it is true?" she said. "What is truth?" said Idmon, the soothsayer. "If it were a dream, would it then be false? Who is to say what challenges the gods may put before us, even in our dreams? Who is to say that our wakeful state is not itself a dream dreamed by the Immortals? Life is a tale and therein lies its magic. The oftener the tale is told, the truer it becomes. When men stop telling tales, then life itself becomes a lie."

"What is the sound of one hand clapping?" said Delaney wryly.

Idmon turned to him and smiled. "Is it not the sound that is made when one hand claps?"

"You have me there," said Delaney, smiling. "I am neither soothsayer nor a wise man. Merely a seeker who asks foolish questions."

"Indeed," said Idmon, "yet who is the wiser? The one wise enough to know the answer or the one wise enough to ask the question?"

"Enough of this philosophy," said Menoetius. "Such musings are fit only for old men. We need tales of great deeds, not weighty thoughts."

"We shall hear a tale of a great deed then," Castor said. "Tell us, Theseus, of how you slew the Minotaur."

Theseus spat out a piece of pork fat and belched. "I was younger then," he said, patting his muscular stomach contentedly. "Young and full of fire to prove myself. Full also of anger at the unjust policy which each nine years sent seven young Athenian boys and maidens to the labyrinth of Crete, there to wander terror stricken through the maze until they were found and eaten by the Minotaur."

"Why was this done?" asked Hylas, eyes wide with wonder. "And what sort of creature was this Minotaur?"

"It was a manner of tribute paid by the Athenians to Crete," said Theseus, "and it was meant to appease the Minotaur. You may have heard that this creature was the offspring of an accursed, bestial love born of a mad and savage passion. It was said that Pasiphae, the depraved wife of King Minos of Crete, fell in love with a white bull which had a black spot between its horns, an animal held sacred by the people of Crete. In her mad obsession, Pasiphae had congress with this beast and from this union came a fearsome creature, cursed by the gods to be born in a shape that was half man, half animal. Its torso was that of a man, yet its head and hindquarters were those of a bull. Aghast at this horrible perversion, Minos wanted to remove it forever from his sight, yet he could not kill it, for it was the offspring of a sacred animal.

"He sought out the famed craftsman, Daedalus, and directed him to build a labyrinth to house the monster. Daedalus constructed this labyrinth deep within a cavern, with many passages which turned and twisted, forming a maze so intricate that once one entered it, the way out could not be found again. It was to the depths of this labyrinthine maze that Minos consigned the Minotaur and each nine years thereafter, youths and maidens were sent into this maze so that their blood would appease the creature. Over the years, this Minotaur grew large and powerful and terrifying, so that Minos greatly feared it.

"My father, King Aegeus, was the unhappy man to whom the task fell of selecting the seven sacrificial victims when the boat with the black sail departed each nine years for Crete. He was hated by the people for this, especially so since he was the one man whose own children were exempt from the deadly lottery. Anxious to prove myself in battle and test my courage, and to silence those who accused my unhappy father of being unjust, I volunteered to go, thereby sparing at least one family the agony of seeing a child depart on the ship with the black sail never to return."

"Yet you believed that you would return," said Jason. "You knew that right was on your side and therefore you would prevail."

"Well, that may be so," Theseus said, "but I have always put my faith in the strength of my own sword arm than in the power of right. I believed that since the Minotaur was a creature born of flesh, then it could be killed as any other creature born of flesh. And I believed also, as I continue to believe, that life without a challenge is a kind of death. I told my father that I would do my utmost to destroy this Minotaur, for if the Minotaur were killed, then the tribute would be ended. And I told my father that the same ship on which I sailed for Crete would return with a white sail hoisted to tell of my victory, or the black sail to tell of my failure and my death.

"Now King Minos had no love for the fearsome creature in his labyrinth. He could not order it killed himself, but if a stranger to whom the bull was not a sacred animal were to kill it, neither Minos nor any of his subjects would have profaned against their faith. For this reason, Minos allowed the young men who went into the maze to carry whatever weapons they desired. Still, he was confident that no one would succeed, for none who entered the labyrinth ever came out again into the light of day.

"King Minos had a beautiful daughter whose name was Ariadne and when she saw me, Ariadne fell in love with me." Theseus tipped back a wine skin and squeezed out a purple stream which struck his chin before it found its way into his mouth. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, smacked his lips and broke wind profoundly.

"As a youth," he said, "I was not uncomely. Shortly before I was to go into the labyrinth, Ariadne came to me with a spool of thread. She told me to unwind the thread from the spool as I went through the maze, so that when I had killed the Minotaur, I could return the way I came by following the thread. It seemed such a simple thing, I was amazed that no one had thought of it before. Yet I had not thought of it myself, so perhaps it was not so simple.

"When the morning came, the seven of us went into the labyrinth. There was much wailing and weeping among my fellow sacrificial victims, but I told them to keep behind me and to avoid stepping on the thread, lest it should break and doom us all to be forever lost. We wandered for a long time through the maze, going from one passage to another, all the while descending ever deeper until I began to think that Hades itself lay not far ahead. It was cold within the labyrinth and damp. Our torches showed us bats in great numbers hanging from the ceiling. As we passed, they swept down upon us screaming and the maidens screamed as well, as did some of the youths.

"Rats were all around us like a furry carpet, undulating and chittering, crawling up our legs and dropping on our bodies so that we had to beat them off us with every step we took. As we went deeper, we began to pass the bones of those unfortunates who had gone before us and had been devoured by the Minotaur. I saw that many of these bones were splintered, as if struck some powerful blow, and that they had all been gnawed upon by fearsome teeth."

Theseus picked up a pork rib and gnawed at it savagely, then wiped the grease off on his legs.

"Among the bones also lay weapons, swords and spears and shields that had done their bearers not one bit of good. The shields, I saw, were buckled, hammered by strong blows. The swords were blunted and the spears were broken. And before long, in the depths ahead of us, we heard the echoing bellows of the creature, which smelled our scent and roared its hunger. "My thread had run out to the end and now naught but the spool itself remained. I bid the others wait and went on ahead alone, trying to mark the way so that I could find them once again when-and if-I started to return. With my shield on my arm, I held the torch aloft and proceeded slowly, cautiously, not wishing the creature to surprise me, but by now its cries had ceased and there was deathly silence in the maze, broken only by the sounds of water dripping down from overhead."

Theseus stood and stepped forward slowly, acting out the last part of his tale. He had picked up his shield and he now held it close to his body. His hand rested on his sword hilt and he crouched low, as if anticipating combat.

"Suddenly, the passage ended and I was in a cavern, a large central chamber lit by torches set high into the walls. Before me was a heap of bones piled higher than a man, some still with bloody meat upon them, and crouched upon that heap of bones was the most fearsome apparition I had ever seen. It was as tall as Chiron and as powerfully built as Hercules, with arms like tree trunks and a chest big as a keg of wine!

"Blood from its grisly meals was matted on its haunches and upon its shoulders; where a man's head should have been, there was the head of a ravening bull with wild red eyes and great, terrible horns, each longer than my armspan! Foul insects crawled upon it and vermin scurried among the remnants of its victims. It saw me and it stood, towering above me, and I felt its fetid breath. Its bellow was a deafening roar that echoed through the chamber and turned my blood to ice! I quickly unsheathed my sword…"

As he spoke, Theseus suddenly drew his sword out of its sheath with a wide, fast sweeping motion and several of the Argonauts were saved from being decapitated only by ducking their heads at the last moment.

"It charged, bellowing as it came, and I threw my torch at it, hoping to strike its face and blind it so that I could step in and make the killing thrust, but it reached up a massive arm and batted the torch away."

Theseus made a batting motion with his sword and knocked one of the torches out of its sconce. It flew across the room and fell at the feet of Pollux, showering him with sparks. He started batting at his head, fearful that his hair would be set on fire and Castor thoughtfully emptied his wine goblet over his twin brother's head.

"It swung at me!" Theseus shouted, his voice ringing in the cave. "I ducked beneath the blow, slashing at its midsection with my sword-"

A bowl of fruit was struck a devastating blow and it went clanging against the wall, spilling apples, pears and figs in all directions. Delaney caught an apple one-handed and bit into it. As the battle progressed, the roast pig was skewered; a quick cut and thrust separated a loin which Argus grabbed and bit into with gusto. The venison was hacked; a table was overturned.

"Its bellows filled the cavernous chamber as we met, exchanging blows and punishing each other! My shield was battered and dented, my sword blunted on its horns! It bled from a dozen wounds and still it came at me! I raised my sword high over my head- "

And as he raised his sword high over his head, Hercules caught Theseus by the wrist, forestalling further destruction. "And then you k-k-k-k-"

"And then you killed it!" Hylas finished for his master.

"No, I-" Theseus paused as Hercules frowned down at him. "Uh, yes, then I killed it," he said quickly and Hercules released him.

"After that, it was a simple matter of following the thread back to the entrance of the labyrinth and finding a warm welcome in the arms of Ariadne. We boarded the ship which had brought us all to Crete and set sail for home, full of festive spirit. Unfortunately, our spirits were so high that I forgot what I had told my father and I neglected to put up the white sail. Aegeus saw our black sail on the horizon and, thinking I had perished, became so grief-stricken that he threw himself into the sea. Thus, I vanquished the Minotaur and became a king."

"Handy little lapse of memory he had there," Delaney said to Andre.

Idmon shook his head. "Do us all a service, Castor, and do not ask Theseus to tell any more stories of his exploits. We are all guests here and his tales are hard upon the housekeeping."

The Argonauts all laughed and Theseus scowled at first, then joined in the laughter.

"I, too, have a tale to tell," said Chiron and they all fell silent as their old teacher spoke. "I dreamt that I was taken by the gods and transported to Olympus, where the Immortals all surrounded me. I stood within a chamber full of light while they asked me many questions and the magical creations of Hephaestus, creatures of living metal, gamboled at my feet. They wished to know of the affairs of mortals. They asked me about you, Jason, and you, Theseus, and you, Hercules. They asked if mortals still believed in gods and I was saddened that they feared our loss of faith. They spoke about a quest of which I knew nothing and they spoke about a crew of heroes who called themselves the Argonauts. Then they returned me to my home here on Mount Pelion without any word of explanation and it was here that I awoke, thinking it was all a dream of portent."

The massive centaur looked down at them from where he stood at the head of the long table, while his youngest pupil, a child named Achilles, ran a comb through the hairs of his long tail.

"There is truth in what Idmon has told us," the centaur said. "The gods pose challenges to us in dreams. Who is to say that this is not a dream in which the gods are speaking to us, moving us about like game pieces on a board for their own purposes? What mortal can discern the thoughts of an Immortal? You are the Argonauts and you are upon a quest, just as the gods spoke of in my dream.

"When your father brought you to me, Jason, he asked me to prepare you for the day when you would meet your destiny. And now all of you, many of you my old pupils, have united in this quest to bring back the golden fleece to Iolchos. It shall complete a tale that began with a mad king who believed that murdering his children would appease the anger of the gods. You sail upon the sea where Helle drowned and you journey to the land where Phrixus died. Your fates are intertwined with theirs.

"Your tale, Jason, is their tale also. It is a tale of children driven from their homes and denied their birthright. It is a tale of mortals invoking the desires of gods to justify their own and of gods who walk with mortals to redress those wrongs. How it all will end, no mere mortal can say, but in every dream, there is a lesson to be learned. Question all dreams to discern their lessons and question all mortals to discern their purposes, for the gods will question you in turn. It is as Idmon said, the wiser man is not he who believes he knows the answers, but he who knows to ask the questions.

"And now, it grows late and you must leave upon the morning tide. The time has come to sleep and dream and see what lessons we may learn."

The Argonauts slept deeply, all save "Fabius," who merely feigned sleep while he took his turn on watch. Andre had taken the first shift, pretending also to be asleep while she remained on watch. Her shift passed uneventfully and she then woke Steiger, who took his turn for several hours. Delaney had the last shift and Steiger woke him quietly to report that all was well. Steiger then stretched out and was asleep almost immediately while Delaney remained awake, thinking. Chiron's tale had sounded uncomfortably familiar.

Delaney had the feeling they were caught in a time when myth and reality were indistinguishable. These people were primitives, yet they were sophisticated in the way they created their own myths, then lived them. Idmon had said it best. The oftener a tale is told, the truer it becomes. He wondered what they'd find when they arrived at Colchis. Would there be some enchanted golden fleece hanging on a tree branch in the Sacred Grove of Ares or would it turn out to be a rotting sheepskin painted gold, a moth-eaten symbol of an old tale upon which a kingdom had been built?

Would this be just a long, dull sea voyage which, on their return, would become the subject of embellished tales such as the fable Orpheus had told? A part of him hoped that would be the case, for the alternative, the one suggested by the existence of a creature such as Chiron and the strange phenomenon at Delphi, was a frightening one, one which threatened to shake the foundations of all that he believed and disbelieved. Yet, at the same time, a small part of him hoped it would be true. It was the part of him that remembered all the stories of his childhood and experienced crushing disappointment upon becoming an adult.

It was almost dawn when he heard the soft footfalls of hooves and looked up to see Chiron quietly moving toward the entrance to the cavern. Moving silently, Delaney followed him. Chiron went outside and in the soft gray light, Delaney could see the centaur heading down a path that led into the woods. Keeping his distance, Delaney pursued him, curious to see where the centaur was going at such an unlikely hour. After a short while, Chiron came to a small clearing in the forest in the center of which a small stone altar had been built. He entered the clearing and stopped before the altar with his head bowed.

For a while, the centaur simply stood there, saying and doing nothing, as if praying, but then Delaney heard a deep, masculine voice say, "I am here."

Standing behind the altar, in the early morning shadows, was a figure that had not been there a moment earlier. He was wearing a hooded cloak which hid his features.

"They have come, just as you said they would," the centaur said. "They will be sailing on the morning tide. What would you have me do?"

"Nothing more," the hooded figure said, "only tell me, among the Argonauts, who are the ones you do not know, the ones who were not among your pupils?"

"There are several," said Chiron. "Argus the shipwright is one, as well as Idmon the soothsayer, and Mopsus the astrologer. There are Menoetius and Pirithous, and Hylas, the boy who serves Hercules…"

Delaney heard Chiron mention several other names, among them their own aliases, Fabius, Creon and Atalanta. The hooded figure questioned Chiron about each of them.

"Good," the strangely familiar voice said, finally. "You have done well. Go now. It is almost dawn. Tell no one about our meeting."

"I would ask only one question," Chiron said. "Many of these youths are near and dear to me. The quest they have embarked upon will hold great dangers for them. Tell me, will they succeed?"

"No man should know his fate," the hooded figure said, "nor that of another. Some will die and some will live. What becomes of them is the province of the gods. Go now. Wish them well upon their journey."

Chiron bowed from the waist, then turned and came back in Delaney's direction. Delaney ducked behind some bushes to avoid being seen and waited until the centaur had passed. When he looked up again, the hooded figure was no longer in the clearing. He ran to the stone altar and looked around in all directions, but there was no sign of a trail or even of anyone having been there in the first place. The ground around the altar and the stone platform it stood upon was damp with early morning drizzle, but the only tracks visible in the gray dawn were Chiron's hoof prints.