by Glyn Iliffe
‘Put your weapons away. I can’t harm you.’
A figure emerged from the shadows at the back of the room and into the faint light coming through the open door. She was tall and slim, and though her features were hidden beneath her hood, Heracles knew her at once. The club slipped from his fingers to the floor.
‘Megara,’ he whispered.
‘Yes, it’s me.’
She tipped her hood back to reveal the face that had won Heracles’s heart. He felt the power that her looks had held over him from the first time he had seen her; and at the same moment he felt his guilt explode within him, as raw and painful as that first morning when he had looked at the bodies of his children and known that he was the one who had killed them. His eyes filled with tears and he cast his face downwards, unable to look at the woman he had once loved so much. Part of him wanted to turn and run, out into the grimy streets and as far away from Tiryns – and Megara – as his legs would take him. But his legs seemed rooted to the floor.
He felt his nephew’s hand on his shoulder.
‘I’ll be outside.’
Iolaus nodded at Megara as he left, half closing the door behind him and leaving them in semi-darkness. Megara was dressed in dark robes, as if she were still in mourning, and was only visible by the pale skin of her face and arms. Perhaps it was better that way, he thought, for he could not bear to look her in the eye.
‘How did you find me?’
‘It was easy,’ she replied. ‘The fame of your labours has spread far, and now everyone speaks the name of Heracles with awe and admiration again. They say you chased a fire-breathing lion into the Underworld to save a little girl, and that you rode back to Tiryns on a golden deer, carrying Artemis’s bow on your shoulder. I suppose if such things were possible, then you are the man to have done them.’
She smiled unexpectedly, and the effect was breathtaking. It was as if she had forgiven him for what he had done, almost as if nothing had happened. For a heartbeat, his burden was lifted from his shoulders. He felt that all he had to do was to reach out and take her hand and everything would be forgotten. Then the absurdity of the thought drove away the light of hope and left his mind in shadow again.
‘It’s true that I saved a child from a lion,’ he answered, raising his hand to the muzzle of the beast that he wore like a cap. ‘And that I captured a hind that was precious to Artemis.’
‘And that isn’t all you’ve captured. You have the hearts of the people here, just as you did in Thebes. All I had to do was to ask where I could find you and they led me here. I don’t expect it’s wise for a princess to wander streets like these, but I had such a crowd about me that I never felt anything other than safe. Even when word came that you’d returned to the city, riding in a chariot driven by a prince, they refused to leave me unprotected.’
‘Eurystheus wouldn’t let them watch my return anyway. He ordered everyone to stay indoors, and lined the streets with his army to ensure no one disobeyed.’
‘Because he’s jealous, of course,’ she said, stepping closer. ‘He knows that they love you, Heracles. But then you’ve always been able to win the affections of the common people. And the high-born too.’
He looked into her eyes, confused.
‘I…I hadn’t expected to see you again. Not after…’
His voice trailed away and she broke eye contact, looking aside to the deeper shadows that filled the hut. As he saw the light leave her features, he realized that she was not coming back to him; that this was not the first step towards a permanent reunion. The face that he adored so much – the presence that he longed to be around – would soon be gone again. He might have the strength to kill monsters spawned in Tartarus, or even the cunning to capture innocent creatures that would otherwise flee from his wickedness, but he could not reconquer her. If Eurystheus wanted to defeat the cousin he hated so much, all he had to do was command him to win back his wife’s heart. That would be a labour beyond his ability to accomplish.
Megara reached into the pouch hanging from her belt and pulled out a small parcel of cloth.
‘That’s why I came,’ she said. ‘After you… After you killed our boys, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t accept it, I couldn’t understand it, and I knew that sooner or later it was going to defeat me. Then Iolaus told me to return to the house – to our home. He said I needed to go back and face the horror of it. So I did, and that’s where I found this.’
She handed him the bundle of cloth, and for a fleeting moment he felt the warmth of her hand against his. She pulled it away quickly, as if the touch had burned her skin, and that was enough to tell him that no hope remained. His heart felt like bronze in his chest – cold and hard and dead. Then he opened the folds of white cloth. Something small and dark lay at the centre. It gave off a rank odour that made his nostrils wrinkle, and as he prodded it with his fingertip he felt it was soft and dry.
‘It’s a mushroom,’ Megara said. ‘I found several of them in the kitchen. The others I gave to an old hag, and in exchange she made me a broth from just one of them. I drank it in her cave and for a time I saw the world as it really is. So much colour and detail, Heracles; so many patterns that weren’t there before; such endless beauty that words just…fail me. For a while it was like everything was new, like I was one of the old gods, wondering at the world when it was first made.
‘Then the darkness crept up on me. It came from within me, I know it did. And with it, everything changed. I can’t begin to describe the horror of it – the loathing, the fear that I might never return to the world I used to know. I was attacked by demons and I fought back, convinced they had come to take my soul.’
She stopped and put her face in her hands. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but knew his touch would be rejected; and he could not face that. Yet he wanted her pain to end. He wanted all their pain to end.
‘I expect you don’t believe me,’ she said, wiping her eyes.
He gave a half-smile.
‘When you’ve seen the things I have, you realize you don’t have the right to question what others have experienced. I believe you, Megara. I just don’t understand why you came to tell me all this. I don’t understand why you would want to even look at me again, let alone speak to me.’
‘I never wanted to see you again after what you did. I didn’t even want to hear your name. But I wanted to know why you did it. I thought it might help. I expect you’ve been asking yourself the same question. And now I have the answer.’
He felt his body go tense. The blood cooled in his veins and all other thoughts froze as he stared at the mother of his children.
‘I killed some of the demons,’ she continued. ‘And then I ran away into the woods. But when I returned to my right mind, I went back to the hag’s cave and found the bodies of the demons. They were cats. Just cats. It was the mushroom that had made them into demons. That was when I knew.’
‘Knew what?’
‘Knew that you hadn’t murdered our boys.’
He felt his hands trembling at his sides.
‘Of course I did. Their blood was all over me.’
‘No, Heracles. You see, the cook made you a soup from the mushrooms. Not just one, like I had, but a dozen at least. I’m surprised you didn’t lose your mind altogether. But you did lose it for that evening, and whatever you thought you were killing, it was not our sons. You were not yourself. The mushrooms made you see things that were not there. And when the darkness came to you, it transformed our harmless, beautiful children into monsters. I hate what you did,’ she sobbed, ‘but I know it wasn’t the real you.’
Heracles did not know what to think or feel. He seemed lost in a mental and emotional void, unable to form thoughts or feelings. The shadows in the hut thickened and came closer, and for a moment he felt unsteady on his legs.
‘There’s more,’ Megara said.
‘More?’
‘The mushrooms weren’t picked by the cook or any of the maids. They don’t ev
en grow in Thebes, only on the foothills of a particular range of mountains. When I questioned the cook, she said she was given them by a man who seemed to know you had a love of mushrooms. The truth is, Heracles, you weren’t sent mad by some random act of the gods. Somebody wanted you to murder your family.’
Glossary
A
Admete daughter of Eurystheus
Aethiopes peoples from northern Africa
Alcmene Heracles’s mother
Amphitryon Heracles’s stepfather and husband to Alcmene
Amymone river in the Argolid
Aphrodite goddess of love
Apollo archer god, associated with music, song and healing
Ares god of war
Aretos father-in-law of Nesaia
Artemis moon goddess associated with childbirth, noted for her virginity and vengefulness
Artemisius (Mount) mountain in Attica, sacred to Artemis
Athena goddess of wisdom and warfare
C
Celadon river in Arcadia
Ceryneia region in the northern Peloponnese
Ceryneian Hind a white deer with golden antlers and bronze hooves, sacred to Artemis
Charis high priestess of Hera
Cleonae Mycenaean town
Copreus herald to King Eurystheus
Creon king of Thebes and father of Megara
Creontiades son of Heracles and Megara
Cyclops one-eyed giant
D
Deicoon youngest son of Heracles and Megara
Demeter goddess of agriculture
E
Echidna half-woman, half-snake, known as the ‘Mother of Monsters’
Electryon former king of Mycenae and Tiryns; grandfather of Heracles
Elatos priest at the oracle on Mount Parnassus
Eperitus friend of Odysseus
Erginus king of Orchomenus
Eurycleia Ithacan maid
Eurystheus king of Mycenae and Tiryns; cousin of Heracles
G
Gaea earth goddess
H
Hades god of the Underworld
Hephaistos god of fire; blacksmith to the gods of Olympus
Hera queen of the gods, married to Zeus
Heracles son of Zeus
I
Iolaus nephew and squire of Heracles
Iphicles twin brother of Heracles and adviser to King Eurystheus
Ithaca island in the Ionian Sea
L
Ladon river in Arcadia
Leontius Nemean farmer, killed by the Nemean Lion
Lernea swamp in the Argolid
Lernean Hydra many-headed serpent, offspring of Echidna and Typhon
M
Megara wife of Heracles and daughter of Creon
Molorchus Nemean farmer
Mycenae city in north-eastern Peloponnese
Myrine child, rescued by Heracles on Mount Parnassus
N
Ncippe mother of Eurystheus
Nemea region north of Mycenae
Nemean Lion monster, offspring of Echidna and Typhon
Nesaia widow, rescued by Heracles on Mount Parnassus
Nestor king of Pylos
O
Odysseus king of Ithaca
Omeros Ithacan bard
Orchomenus city in Boeotia, northern Greece
P
Parnassus (Mount) mountain in central Greece and home of the Pythian oracle
Penelope queen of Ithaca and wife of Odysseus
Perseus famed hero; father of Electryon and Sthenelus
Phaedra Theban housemaid
Polycaste wife of Telemachus and daughter of Nestor
Poseidon god of the sea
Pyrasos Tirynian soldier
Python giant serpent, guardian of the Pythian oracle
Pythoness high priestess of the Pythian oracle
S
Sthenelus brother of Electryon; father of Eurystheus
T
Telemachus son of Odysseus and Penelope
Thaleia daughter of Molorchus, kidnapped by the Nemean Lion
Thebes city in Boeotia, northern Greece
Therimachus eldest son of Heracles and Megara
Thrasios Tirynian soldier
Thespius king of Thespiae in Boeotia
Tiryns city in north-eastern Peloponnese
Tretus (Mount) mountain where the Nemean Lion had its lair
Troy chief city of Ilium
Tydeus commander of the Tirynian guard
Z
Zeus the king of the gods
Author's Note
In an age of heroes, Heracles - or Hercules, to give him his Roman name - was the greatest hero of them all. He was characterised by excess, not just in strength and courage, but in almost everything else, from his desire for sex to his appetite for food. He was also a man of stark contradictions. Despite being a son of Zeus, he was twice made a slave - first to Eurystheus, and later to Queen Omphale. Though widely depicted as muscle-bound and bearded, clad in a lion-skin and carrying a huge club - the paradigm of masculinity - in Omphale’s service he wore women’s clothing and carried out female chores. He fought for the gods against the giants, but also battled against individual gods, notably Apollo, Hades and Hera. And for a man of intelligence and ingenuity, who fought to uphold the rule of the gods against agents of chaos, he succumbed to madness on at least two occasions, with dreadful consequences.
Despite these characteristics, the ancient world viewed Heracles in an overwhelmingly positive light. Numerous cities claimed to have been founded by him, and many noble families asserted descent from one of his many children. He was revered as the greatest mortal ever to have lived, so great that he had - ultimately - to become immortal. Indeed, in religious festivals he was unique in receiving libations as a hero and sacrifices as a god.
Rather than recreate this Heracles of excess and contradiction, I’ve chosen to focus on the more human aspects of his character. Yes, he is still the son of Zeus, divinely endowed with great strength; but to attempt to portray Heracles as he was viewed in antiquity would be, I think, a mistake. He would seem like a grotesque caricature to modern eyes, and I doubt most readers could stomach such a figure.
The greatness of a hero is measured by the obstacles that he has overcome, and Heracles’s bravery is best demonstrated in the story of his labours. Antiquity has given us different versions of this tale. His madness is generally blamed on the gods, and the introduction of the mushrooms via a human agent is my own invention. The results of his madness are variously described, and in one version - with typical Heraclean excess - he kills six of his own sons and two of his nephews. I thought the deaths of his three sons were horrific enough.
Some myths have the labours in different orders, and some differ substantially in the details of how each task is carried out. I chose to follow the tasks as they were set out in the second book of Pseudo-Apollodorus’s Bibliotheca , which provides a simple and straightforward summary. Son of Zeus only covers the first three labours, and I’ve already taken the liberty of switching the second labour - the Hydra - with the third - the Ceryneian Hind. As Pseudo-Apollodorus’s descriptions of the myths are often sparse in detail - usually no more than a few lines - I’ve also borrowed from other traditions and fleshed things out, while, I hope, remaining within the spirit of the original stories.
Although Molorchus is an important figure in the account of the Nemean Lion, his daughter was not taken as bait, as she is in Son of Zeus . Unlike in my version, Heracles received no help in hunting the Ceryneian Hind, though it took him a year to capture her. As for the Hydra, its heads were numbered variously from seven to ten thousand; Pseudo-Apollodorus claims each slain head was replaced by two more; others say one or even three. For obvious reasons, I chose the smaller number.
And yes, the Hydra really was assisted by a giant crab.
Next in The Heracles Trilogy:
Wrath of the Gods
Having completed his first tr
ials, Heracles learns that the shocking murder of his children was part of an evil plot, his mind brought to madness by some strange poison. To regain his honour, he must uncover the secret behind this terrible betrayal. Despite the revelation, he continues the twelve trials.
The greatest battles need the greatest warriors
Mythical warrior Odysseus battles ancient armies, vengeful demi-gods and man-eating monsters in The Adventures of Odysseus …
First published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
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Copyright © Glyn Iliffe, 2018
The moral right of Glyn Iliffe to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788630276
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
