The Dolphin Rider (7 page)

In the thrashings of his last agony, the dragon had scorched and trampled the grass in a great circle so that it looked as if a city were being built.

“Thank you, Mercury!” cried Cadmus. “Thank you, great Zeus! You have sent my enemy and given me the courage to fight.”

“Good work, Cadmus!” said a voice. “Mercury sends his congratulations.” It was the purple bird again, circling slowly about Cadmus.

“I bid you welcome, purple bird. And thank you for your words of good advice.”

“Mercury sends this last word to you, Cadmus,” said the bird. “Listen well.

Set blade to earth and dig beneath

Then plant the dragon's teeth.”

The bird flew off swiftly before Cadmus could question him further.

“Well, all the other riddle-rhymes worked,” thought Cadmus. “No reason why this one shouldn't.”

He picked up his sword and poked its point into the earth, to make a hole. Then he walked across the field, making a neat row of holes. When he finished one row, he began another, until he had a hundred holes, enough for the dragon's hundred teeth. He went to the pile of ivory and brass, all that was left of the dragon, and filled his helmet with the teeth. Then he went from hole to hole, planting a tooth in each, and carefully covering it over with earth. He planted fifty of the dragon's teeth in this way. But he had no time to plant the rest. Before his astounded eyes metal spikes came up out of the earth. As Cadmus watched, fifty armed men grew swiftly from the holes and stepped out on the field. Each of them wore a helmet, breastplate, shield, and either carried a sword or battle-axe. They were huge fierce-looking men. They glared about angrily, suspiciously, not knowing where they were. Cadmus ducked behind a rock. He had led men in battle, and he knew when men were in a killing mood.

“Fifty of them,” he said to himself. “Too many. I'll have to reduce that number.”

Hiding behind the boulder, he threw out a stone. It struck the helmet of one man, who turned furiously on his neighbor and hit him with his axe, killing him. Then the man next to the man who had fallen attacked the first warrior. Then he was attacked immediately by two others. The fighting spread. Cadmus kept himself hidden behind the rock, occasionally throwing out another stone when he thought the fighting might stop. Cadmus let them fight until all but seven were killed. Then he sprang out of his hiding place, stood upon the rock, and raised his sword.

“Stop!” he shouted.

The men stopped fighting and gaped at him.

“I am your king. I am Cadmus. The gods have sent you here to this plain to help me build a city, and found a kingdom. You shall lead my armies.”

But the men were not ready for such words. They were still full of anger. They charged Cadmus, who sprang off the rock, and met them head on. The helmet made by Vulcan could not be dented. The shield made by Vulcan could not be pierced. And the sword made by Vulcan sheared through the attackers' armor. Swiftly, he killed two of them. The others fell back.

“You see,” he said. “It was meant to be. The gods protect me and the gods speak through me. I am your king. You are my captains. Now let us build our city.”

They knelt then before Cadmus and swore to serve him faithfully. Under his direction, the five men built a city that was first called Cadmea and then called Thebes. Each of the five led an army that marched forth to conquer their enemies and make Thebes into a great kingdom. All that took years, of course. But it started on that bright morning when Cadmus held his ground and trusted his destiny.

Cadmus did not see his sister again. Years later, when Thebes had become a great kingdom, and Cadmus a great king, he married a beautiful goddess named Harmonia, daughter of Vulcan and Venus. The wedding of Cadmus and Harmonia was the first wedding of a mortal ever attended by the gods. They all came, and they all brought gifts. Europa came too. Brother and sister embraced again. And Europa ever after treasured the gift which her brother, Cadmus, gave her — an ivory necklace made of the dragon's teeth which Cadmus had not planted.

The Beautiful Witch

Ulysses was sailing home with three ships and a hundred men. But in the first two weeks at sea, he lost two ships and most of their crew. One ship was driven onto a reef by a sudden gale and wrecked completely. Another ship was stomped to splinters by angry giants who would not allow anyone to land on their island. As for the men, many drowned, many more were devoured by sea monsters and man-eating ogres.

Now, in his third week at sea, Ulysses was left with only one ship and a crew of thirty men. He was in an unknown part of the sea, among strange islands. He did not want to risk another landing. But food and water were running low, and he knew he had to take the risk.

He moored his ship off a small, heavily wooded island, and ordered his men to wait on board until he signaled to them. He wanted to explore the island alone before disembarking his crew. Ulysses rowed toward shore in a small skiff, beached the boat and then struck inland. He climbed a low hill, then up a tree near the top of the hill. Now he was high enough for a clear view on all sides.

A feather of smoke, rising from a grove of trees, caught his eye. He climbed down and made his way toward the smoke. Glimmering through the trees, he saw what looked like a small castle of polished gray stone. He did not dare go near, for he could hear strange howling sounds. A pack of dogs, he thought, but they sounded unlike any dogs he had ever heard.

He left the grove, and made his way back toward the beach. He couldn't decide whether to sail away immediately or take a chance on having his men land. He didn't like the sound of that howling. There was something in it that chilled his bones. Still, he had no real choice. His men were hungry and the little island offered plenty of game to hunt and streams of pure water. So Ulysses signaled his men to come ashore on five small boats. When they landed on the beach, he divided them into two groups. One group he led himself. The other he assigned to his most trusted officer, Tyro. He ordered Tyro to scout the castle, and then, with his own party, left to explore the coastline.

As Tyro and his band of men approached the castle, they heard the strange howling. It grew louder as they approached. Some of the men drew their swords. Others notched arrows to their bowstrings as they pressed on preparing to fight. When they passed the last screen of trees and came to the walls of the shining gray castle, they saw a terrible sight. A pack of wolves and lions were running together, like hounds, racing around the walls.

When the animals caught sight of the men they flung themselves on the strangers. So swiftly did this happen that no man had time to use his weapon. The great beasts stood on their hind legs, put their forepaws on the men's shoulders, and licked their faces. They uttered low growling whines. Tyro, who was half-embracing a huge tawny lion, said, “These fearsome beasts greet us as though we were their lost friends. Look at their eyes. How sad they are — as if they were trying to tell us something.”

Just then they heard someone singing in the castle. It was a woman's voice, so lovely that without seeing her they knew the woman was beautiful.

Tyro ordered his men to go into the castle and then report back to him. “I will stay here and make sure you are not surprised,” he said.

Tyro stood watch at the castle gate — sword in one hand, dagger in the other, and bow slung across his back. The rest of the men entered the castle. They followed the sound of singing through the rooms and out onto a sunny terrace. There a woman sat weaving. The bright flax leaped through her fingers as if it were dancing to the music in her voice. The men stood and stared. The sun seemed to be trapped in her hair — it was so bright. She wore a dress as blue as the summer sky, matching her eyes. Her long white arms were bare to the shoulders, and when she stood up and greeted them, they saw she was very tall.

“Welcome, strangers,” she said. “I am Circe, daughter of Helios, a sun god. I can do magic — weave simple spells, and read dreams. But let us not talk about me, tell me about yourselves. You are warriors, I see, men of the sword. I welcome you. I shall have baths drawn for you and clean garments laid out. And then, I hope, you will all be my guests for dinner.”

When Ulysses' men had bathed and changed, Circe gave them each a red bowl, into which she put a kind of porridge made of cheese, barley, honey, and wine — and a few secret things known only to herself. The odor that arose from the food was more delicious than anything the men had ever smelled before. And as each man ate he felt himself doing strange greedy things — lapping, panting, grunting, and snuffling at the food. Circe passed among them, filling the bowls again and again. And the men, waiting for their bowls to be filled, looked about. Their faces were smeared with food. “How strange,” they thought. “We're eating like pigs.”

And as this thought came to the men, Circe passed among them, touching each one on the shoulder with a wand, saying,

Glut and swink,

Eat and drink,

Gobble food and guzzle wine.

Too rude I think for human folk,

Quite right, I think,

For
swine
!

As she said this spell in her lovely laughing voice, the men began to change. Their noses grew wide and long; their hair hardened into bristles; their hands and feet became hooves and they ran about on all fours, sobbing and snuffling, searching the floor for bones and crumbs.

But all the time they were crying real tears from their little red eyes, for they were pigs only in form. Their minds were still the minds of men, and they knew what had happened to them.

Circe kicked them away from the table. “Out! Out!” she cried, striking them with her wand and herding them out of the castle into a large sty. And there she flung them acorns and chestnuts and red berries, and watched them grubbing in the mud for the food she threw. She laughed a wild hard bright laugh and went back into the castle.

While all this was happening, Tyro was waiting at the gate. When the men did not return, he crept up to a bow-slit in the castle wall and looked in. It was dark now, and he saw the glimmer of torchlight and the dim shape of a woman at a loom, weaving. But he saw nothing of his men. And he could not hear their voices. A great fear seized him and he raced off as fast as he could, hoping that the beasts would not howl. The wolves and lions stood like statues or walked like shadows. Their eyes glittered in the cold moonlight, but none of them uttered a sound.

Tyro ran until the breath strangled in his throat. He thought his heart would crack out of his ribs, but he did not stop. He kept running, stumbling over roots, slipping on stones. He ran and ran until he reached the beach and fell into Ulysses' arms. He gasped out the story — told Ulysses of the lions and wolves, of the woman singing in the castle, and how the men had gone in and not come out.

Ulysses said to his men, “I must go to the castle to see what has happened, but there is no need for you to risk your lives. Stay here. If I do not return by sunset tomorrow, then you must board the ship and sail away, for you will know that I am dead.”

The men pleaded with him not to go. But he said, “I have sworn an oath that I will never leave a man behind. If there is any way I can prevent this, I must. Farewell, dear friends.”

It was dawn by the time Ulysses found himself among the oak trees near the castle and heard the first faint howling of the animals. As he walked through the rose and gray light, a figure started up before him. It was a slender youth in golden breastplate, golden hat, and golden sandals with golden wings on them. And he held a golden staff. Ulysses fell to his knees.

“Why do you kneel, sir?” said the youth. “You are older than I am, and a mighty warrior. You should not kneel.”

“Ah,” cried Ulysses. “Behind your youth I see time itself stretching to the beginning of things. I know you. You are Mercury, the swift one, the god of voyagers, the messenger god. I pray you have come with good tidings for me.”

“I have come to warn you,” said Mercury. “In that castle sits one who awaits you. Her name is Circe and she is a very dangerous person. A sorceress. A sea witch. A doer of magical mischief. And she is waiting for you, Ulysses. She sits at her loom, waiting. She has already bewitched your shipmates. She fed them, watched them make pigs of themselves, and finally helped them on their way. In short, they are now in a pig sty being fattened.”

“I'm used to danger,” said Ulysses. “I have faced giants and ogres but what can I do against magic?”

“I have come to help you,” said Mercury. “Neptune's anger against you does not please all of us, you know. We gods have our moods but we must keep things in balance. Now listen closely… you must do exactly as I say…”

Mercury snapped his fingers and a flower appeared. It was white and very sweet-smelling, with a black and yellow root. He gave it to Ulysses.

“This flower is magical,” said Mercury. “So long as you carry it, Circe's drugs will not work on you. Now go to the castle. She will greet you and feed you. You will eat the food, but it will not harm you. Then you must threaten to kill her. She will plead with you, and then try to enchant you with her voice, her face, her manner. You will not be able to resist them. No man can — nor any god either. And there is no counterspell that will work against her beauty.”

“What chance do I have then?” said Ulysses.

“The chance you give yourself. If you want to see your home again, and rescue your men from the sty, you must resist her long enough to make her swear the great oath of the immortals. She must swear that she will not do you any harm as long as you are her guest. That is all I can do. The rest is up to you. Farewell.”

The golden youth disappeared like a ray of sunlight. Ulysses shook his head, wondering whether he had really seen the god, or only imagined him. When he saw that he was still holding the curious flower, he knew that Mercury had indeed been there. So he marched on toward the castle, through the pack of lions and wolves, who leaped about him. They looked at him with their great intelligent eyes, trying to warn him in their snarling growling way. He stroked their heads as he passed among them, and went on into the castle.