Jason and the Argonauts (6 page)

I put Autolycus in charge of procurement.

He left camp that evening and returned at dawn driving an oxcart loaded with axes, mallets, picks, and shovels.

“Brother,” I said, “I hope you’re not robbing poor farmers.”

“Not even rich ones. I’m buying these things.”

“What are you using for money?”

“Money.”

“And how do you come by it?”

“Same way the king does, from taxes. I happened to meet a tax collector on the road and persuaded him to let me carry his bag of gold.”

“Persuaded?”

“A little knock on the head,” Autolycus said. “He found it persuasive.”

“You robbed a royal tax collector—”

“Who had been robbing farmers. Actually, what I did, you might say, is give them back their money. The king is taxing them too heavily; it’s bad policy.”

“Knowing Pelius as I do, brother, I am certain he would not appreciate your method of reform.”

“Well, the king did agree to finance this voyage, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but he hates to keep such promises.”

So Autolycus slipped away every dusk and reappeared every dawn. We would be awakened by the clanking of tools and would arise to see the great sun lifting itself out of the sea and ox and boy and wagon crawling blackly across the redness.

Upon this dawn we heard the clanking, but everything else was different. The wagon floated strangely in the air; when it came closer, we saw that it was being borne like a litter by two giant figures. Upon it sprawled the limp shape of Autolycus.

It was always a wonder to me how swiftly Jason could move without seeming to. He was streaking now across the grass. He was confronting two huge men. They stood listening to him, then gently lowered the wagon to the ground. One of them stooped and lifted Autolycus as if he were a baby, then laid him at Jason’s feet. Jason was kneeling, touching my brother’s head.

Daphnis was there, too, now. I heard him whimper. Without looking at him, Jason raised his hand and the whimpering ceased. Argos had arisen by now and stood there confused, glaring at everyone. I strolled across the clearing to where the strangers stood. I had to find out if they had been sent by Pelius, and, if so, to send them away again. I was getting quite good at this. They were magnificent specimens. Standing there in the pink new sunlight, they were carved of rosy marble. Twins obviously, but not identical. One was slightly bigger.

Autolycus was sitting up now, leaning against Jason, who was holding a cup to his mouth, as Daphnis hovered near.

“Greetings,” I said. “I am Ekion, son of Hermes, and herald to King Pelius. And my brother is the one you brought out of the forest. He is still in no condition to thank you, so I do it in his stead.”

The larger one spoke. “My name is Castor. And this is my brother, Pollux. We are princes of Sparta, sons of Leda, who is wife to King Tyndareus.”

I had to think quickly. They called themselves sons of Leda, but not of her husband. Adding that fact to their gigantic stature and their beauty, I deduced that their mother had told them she had entertained some god who had become their father. I wanted to acknowledge this, but to leave myself some opening in case I was misreading things. Luckily, I was trained in tact.

“Fair sirs,” I said, “had you not told me your parentage, I should have guessed you for the sons of a god. Zeus, most likely. Or Apollo, perhaps. Or Ares.”

“You are courteous,” said the smaller one. “Zeus it was who honored our mother, putting on the shape of a swan for the purpose.”

“I welcome you, sons of Zeus. And so shall my brothers, when Autolycus is on his feet again and Daphnis has ceased fretting. We are your cousins, of course. Jason also, he there who is mending my brother’s head. But tell me what happened.”

“We were on our way here,” said Castor, “following the road where it runs between sea and forest, when we saw an oxcart coming. But we saw a bear spring out of the woods, and kill the ox with one blow of its paw. And were amazed to see the driver attack the bear with a knife. The beast caught him only a glancing blow, luckily, but it was enough to send him flying. The bear went after him, and I went after the bear.”

“You killed the bear by yourself?”

“It was in a rage, and I had to kill it. I was sorry to. I like bears. Often wrestle with them back home, for I have run out of men to contend with.”

“And what do you do for sport?” I said to the smaller one, who had eyes like chips of blue ice.

“It is more difficult for me,” Pollux said. “I am a boxer rather than a wrestler. And bears don’t box.”

“He has also run out of men to fight,” said Castor. “And for him there is no such thing as a friendly bout. Whom he hits he kills.”

“No, neither of us can find anyone to fight,” said Pollux. “That’s why we have come here. We have heard that you are about to go after the Golden Fleece, a journey that offers an array of monsters and other worthy antagonists.”

And that is how the Twins enrolled themselves in the crew of the
Argo.
And we were glad to have them. Handling the tree trunks and the huge rocks, they seemed as strong as Titans—and there were two of them.

E
KION

A
NOTHER STRANGER CAME INTO
the clearing, of medium height and thin as sword blade, black-haired, black-browed, and of mushroom complexion. “Looks like trouble,” I thought. “Must be one of the king’s cutthroats.”

Suddenly he smiled at me, and I was amazed. I had never seen a smile like that, a glittering ghastly spasm, indescribably ferocious. Curiosity pulled me across the grass toward him, and I couldn’t help peering into his mouth. He opened it wide.

They weren’t teeth. He had none. Instead, he wore two brass blades curved to the shape of his gums; they were what gave him his dazzling death’s-head grin.

His jaws snapped shut. He grinned again. It took all my self-control not to shudder. He spoke in a hoarse voice, hardly more than a whisper.

“Are you Jason, prince of Iolcus?”

“No, sir. I am his cousin, Ekion, herald to the king.”

“I have come to see Jason.”

“May I know your business?”

“I wish to join his crew and journey after the Fleece.”

“Was it the king who sent you?”

“No one sent me. I am not to be sent. I go where fancy takes me.”

I didn’t believe him. He looked too much like an assassin not to be one. The more I studied him, the uneasier I grew. He was in his mid-twenties, perhaps, but I saw now the cause of his pallor. His face was a web of faint scars. And when I dropped my eyes, I saw that his left hand was missing. A polished metal spike was attached to his wrist; it seemed to grow right out of the stump.

“You are staring at me,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, lad; it’s understandable. I’m not a boastful man, you know, but I wear my badges of honor in plain sight. I have no choice.”

“Battle wounds?”

“Ex-wounds. Scars and replacement parts. My teeth were knocked out one by one, but I waited until they were all gone before I got these beauties. Oh, they are beautiful if fighting is your business. See here.”

He scooped up a handful of pebbles and put them in his mouth, working his jaws. I could hear the brass blades grinding the pebbles. He spat dust, and said, “There are times when you’re so hemmed in you can’t use weapons—only kick and punch and bite. Think how useful these are then … how much better than ordinary teeth. And as for this item”—he held up his spike—“very useful, too. Where I’m concerned, there is no such thing as unarmed combat.”

“I can appreciate that, sir.”

“My problem is I always have to be first in a fight. When I hear war cries and the clash of arms, a fire burns in my gut that can only be cooled by blood. Unfortunately, the blood is usually my own. I’m always charging in too soon and getting sliced up before I can do enough. It’s my one fault as a warrior. Injuries make me miss almost as much action as if I were a coward.”

I couldn’t decide whether he had been sent by Pelius or not. “You put me in an awkward position,” I said. “I’m under orders from the king. It is I who am responsible for enrolling the crew. And the king has forbidden me to take anyone without his recommendation. But you say you do not know him?”

“That is correct.”

“I’m more than eager to enlist a man of your valor and special attributes. Anyone would want you for a shipmate. But what can I do?”

He stepped closer and smiled. His brass toothwork glittered like the hinges of hell.

“You’re lying,” he said softly. “I’m going to bite off your nose.”

I tried to spring away, but his spike had slid behind the waistband of my tunic and I could not move.

“Don’t bite me! Don’t bite me!” I cried. “I’m not lying!”

“Of course you are. My young friends Castor and Pollux sent me word they had joined your crew, and they do not come from your foolish king.”

“The Twins—will they vouch for you?”

“Certainly.”

“You’re hired, then. Let me go. And please stop looking at my nose that way. You see, I had to make sure you were
not
sent by the king.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to supply us with a crew of assassins, all pledged to murder Jason. That’s why I have to be careful. Believe me, sir, I want you on my side in any fighting that is to be done.”

“I thought heralds never fought. Aren’t you exempt from harm by both sides?”

“In ordinary warfare, yes. But the monsters that beset our route tend to eat you first and examine your credentials later.”

“I’ve come to the right place. My name is Idas, prince of Messene.”

“Welcome aboard.”

E
KION

A
RGOS DECIDED HE NEEDED
some metalwork done. He wouldn’t touch it himself; he worked only in wood. “It is well we are in a land where expert smiths abound,” he told me. “You shall choose one of them to do what we need.”

“Impossible,” I said.

“A concept I do not acknowledge,” he said.

“The smiths here serve Hephaestus and are considered priests. The chief smith is a court dignitary. If I bring this work to any forge in the land, the king will hear about it immediately. He will understand that we are secretly building a vessel and recruiting our own crew—and the consequences thereof will be exceedingly painful, not to say fatal.”

“All this is none of my concern,” said Argos. “My task is to get the ship built, yours is to get me whatever I need. The metalwork must be done by an expert—but not necessarily at his own smithy. We’ll dig a fire pit right here. He can do his work right on the spot.”

“Bring someone here to spy out our whole operation? Brilliant!”

“We cannot and will not use anyone outside our own company.”

“I don’t care how you get him or what you do with him afterward. Have those Spartan bullies kidnap him, if you like. When the work is done, you can throw him in the fire. Then he can’t tattle.”

I saw there was no reasoning with this madman and walked away. Then I had an idea. I journeyed half a day to the great smithy, which was in a cave in a hill near the palace. I entered that huge, smoky, clanking place and found my friend Rufus at an anvil, hammering on a red-hot bar of iron. He looked like a young fire demon in the flickering shadows. His red hair seemed to shoot sparks.

I was very glad to see him. He appeared to have grown since we had last met—seemed to have widened; his arms and legs were ridged with muscle. He was bare-armed in a leather apron. His left hand held the tongs that clamped the bar; his right hand held a mallet.

He dropped the sledge, took the tongs in both hands, and lifted the red-hot bar off the anvil. He dropped it into a bucket of water, and steam hissed out. He still hadn’t seen me standing there. He poured the steaming water into a trough, poured in cold water from another bucket, and left the bar to cool.

He raised his head. His smile flashed. My heart danced. He liked me! Suddenly, to my enormous surprise, he embraced me. I was unused to this. The clanging of many hammers became a music of rejoicing. I smelled burning charcoal, leather, steam, hot iron, sweat. My cold heart warmed enough to take in the strange idea of friendship. This made me shy. I pushed him away.

“I must talk to you,” I said. “It’s important.”

“Wait for me at the foot of the hill.”

This day gulls had flown inland. Their screeching sounded pure as song after the clanging of metal in the cave. And the fresh golden air was intoxicating. I saw Rufus bounding downhill like a goat.

We walked toward the woods. “Well, tell,” he said. “I haven’t heard anything important for a long time.”

“Wait till we get into the woods.”

“Is it very secret?”

“Dead secret.”

“Well, tell me something. Tell more lies about your relatives on Olympus.”

“Some of them are down here,” I said. “I just met two cousins. The Dioscuri.”

“Who?”

“The twin sons of Zeus. Also princes of Sparta.”

I described Castor and Pollux, and how they had saved Autolycus from the bear. Then I realized he didn’t know who Autolycus was, or Daphnis, and I told about them, too, and about Jason. Then about Argos and Idas. And before we had reached the great oak, I had told him all about what we were doing and why. I had not meant to tell so much. But, seeing the wonder on his face, I couldn’t help myself.

Then I realized I had done the right thing. He turned away from me and spoke in a strangled voice. “I’d like to join your company,” he said.

“A novice in the high service of the smith-god. Are you permitted to resign?”

“Of course not. I’ll simply vanish.”

“They’ll be after you hammer and tongs.”

“Why should they find me? I’ll be on that wild east shore with you. Then we’ll be out to sea. And we shall either die gloriously or return as heroes.”

I wanted to say yes. Argos would have someone to work his metal, and I would have a friend of my own for the voyage. But I was afraid to consent. A runaway novice would infuriate the entire guild and start a great manhunt. It was a terrible risk. What I had hoped was that he would be able to do our work secretly at his own forge.