by Joe Corcoran
long he met an old woman sitting by the road and rubbing her feet.
“Young man,” she said, “please let me travel with you. These roads are dangerous and travelling together would be safer, even with a companion as thin and weak as you.”
Hercules’ brow creased with anger and his eyes flashed fire. ‘How dare you!’ he was about to shout, ‘I am Hercules, immortal hero, saviour of the gods and scourge of the giants.’ But then he remembered his new resolution to do good deeds and all he said was, “Very well, let us travel together.”
An hour later they had not gone very far. The old woman went slowly , needed frequent rests and talked constantly.
“Old woman,” said Hercules at last, struggling to control his impatience, “we’ll never get anywhere at this rate. Can you go no faster?”
“I could go as quickly as you,” said the old woman, “if you would carry me on your back.”
Hercules agreed, thinking it would be easy to carry a little old lady, but the woman was surprisingly heavy and her sharp knees and elbows dug into him, so that after only a few minutes his sides were bruised and sore. Anyone else could not have carried her for long, but Hercules was strong, determined and quite used to physical discomfort. Most importantly they were now travelling at a better speed, and after a few more minutes, Hercules relaxed enough to start chatting to the woman. By evening he found that he had told the stranger on his back almost everything about himself and the terrible things he had done.
“It sounds like you behaved very poorly,” said the old woman, once they had stopped for the night and pitched camp.
Hercules could only nod agreement then said, “I’d do anything if only I could make up for a small part of what I’ve done wrong.”
That night Hercules had strange and terrible dreams. He dreamt that the leader of the giants, Alcyoneus, had broken his bonds and was even now heading back to the surface of the world. Then a stillness came over his dreams and the great god Zeus appeared to Hercules.
“My son,” said Zeus, “it was foretold that a mortal man would defeat the giants. Now that prophesy hangs in the balance, and Alcyoneus fights to free himself from his chains. Only you can put this right. I cannot help you, but I can tell you how you can help yourself. You must go to Troezen and offer yourself as a servant to Pittheus, the philosopher king. You will serve him for a year and a day, and he will give you twelve challenges. If you complete the challenges in the time given then the prophesy will be fulfilled and the world will be saved. If you fail, or the year and the day run out, then Alcyoneus will break free from his chains. He will destroy the gods and leave the earth in ruins.”
Hercules was woken by the old woman prodding him in the stomach with a bony finger.
“Wake up lazy,” she said, “I’ve been up for hours, and I’ve got a fire going already. Do you think you’re good enough with that bow to get us something for breakfast?”
Hercules had to count to ten in order to keep his temper. ‘Don’t you know that I am the greatest archer in the world?’ he wanted to snap back, but instead he simply nodded, picked up his bow, and headed for a nearby wood.
“And don’t be long,” shouted the old woman after him, “I want to be in Troezen by nightfall.”
Of course Hercules was not long, and he was so impatient to begin his challenges that he ran all the way to Troezen with the old woman on his back. When they arrived he bid her goodbye and hurried to present himself at the palace. There he begged for an audience with Pittheus, saying that Hercules had come to offer his services to the king. But two guards on horses blocked his way at the palace gate. They didn’t seem to believe him.
“Hercules? A likely story! No-one has seen him for over a year. They say he’s gone mad or been killed. Probably you’re a trickster dressed up in a stolen lion skin, intending to steal money from our kind king.”
“Could a trickster do this?” asked Hercules, and he lifted both horses clean off the ground, riders and all. The guards faces were very pale, and they were a lot more polite when Hercules put them down. One of them dismounted, bowed and disappeared into the palace, only to return a few minutes later, asking Hercules to follow him inside.
Through many rooms, courtyards and gardens they passed. Each one made Hercules think how wise, generous and gifted this philosopher king must be. Here, there was a group of wise men, sitting by a fountain, discussing what power kept clouds floating in the sky. Next, a room made entirely of mirrors, so that one candle lit it as brightly as a summer’s day. Then, a room turned into a hospital for the town’s sick children. After that, a group of warriors, arguing fiercely over the best length for a sword. They fell silent as Hercules passed, eyeing his lion skin cloak with suspicion and awe.
“A short sword, for a soldier fighting in formation,” said Hercules, without pausing or looking towards them, “a long sword for a hero fighting alone.”
As soon as he left the room he heard the argument break out again, the voices louder than before, as they debated his statement. Soon the noise was left behind, and Hercules was led into a comfortable room containing soft cushions, a table heaped with food and a large bath. What fixed Hercules’ attention, however, was the old woman sitting in a corner of the room with a glass of wine in one hand and a chunk of bread in the other.
“You!” thundered Hercules, “What are you doing here?”
But when the old lady spoke it was with quite a different voice from the one Hercules remembered.
“I do apologise for this trickery,” said the woman, but now in the voice of a gentleman, “but it was necessary for a greater purpose.”
Slowly she peeled off a false nose, then lifted off a wig, and before long Hercules was staring at the face of King Pittheus himself, who now continued to explain:
“You see, I prayed to Zeus for a hero to help me with a certain problem. He then appeared to me in a dream and told me that, if I went out into the wilderness, a hero would appear. The disguise was my idea. Once I realised that the hero was Hercules, I had to be sure that you were no longer under the power of the madness before I could reveal myself to you.”
“That explains why you were so heavy for an old woman.” chuckled Hercules, “Now, to business. You see, Zeus also appeared to me in a dream. I therefore offer myself to you as your servant for a year and a day. I stand ready to complete your twelve challenges.”
“Twelve?” said Pittheus, “There’s a mystery, for I have only one. No doubt mighty Zeus can see other troubles in my future. But please, don’t stay standing now. Sit, eat, wash off the dust of the road, and I will tell you of your first challenge.”
The First Challenge: The Nemean Lion
Some weeks ago, explained Pittheus, a meteor had been seen, shooting across the sky and leaving a fiery trail. It came to earth on a mountainside, near a town called Nemea, with a huge bang and a flash of light. Soon afterwards a young shepherd disappeared. A search party was sent out, but only one man returned. He was terrified out of his mind, talking about a lion that no weapon could harm. After this, the lion was seen regularly, and wherever the lion went, people died. No-one in the kingdom was brave enough to hunt the lion and so Pittheus had prayed to Zeus to send a hero.
“Your first challenge,” finished Pittheus, “is to kill the Nemean Lion. Furthermore, you must bring its skin back to Troezen, so that everyone can see that it is dead.”
Hercules set off the next morning and arrived two days later at a village called Cleonae, which is near to Nemea. There he looked for somewhere to stay, but the people were frightened of him. They locked their doors and would not come out. Just as he was about to give up and go to sleep in the open, a builder, Molochus, offered to let Hercules stay at his house. The lion had killed his son, so he wanted it dead. He offered to kill and cook a whole sheep for Hercules, to give him strength for the battle ahead, but Hercules told him to let the sheep live.
“Wait for thirteen days,” he said, “if I return then together we will sacrifice the sheep to Zeus
in thanks. If I do not return then you should sacrifice the animal in my name as I will have died a hero.”
After a good night’s sleep, Hercules set off to hunt the lion. First he went to Nemea and found the town completely deserted, the people having all been frightened away by the lion. Then, remembering what Pittheus had told him about the meteor crashing to earth, he set off to climb the nearby mountain. Sure enough, at the top of the mountain he found a cave with two entrances. Inside were scattered the bones of many men, all killed by the ferocious lion. Having found the beast’s lair, Hercules decided to wait for it to return. He crouched behind a rock, got his bow ready, and kept his eyes fixed on the most likely way up to the cave. He had to wait a long time. The sun burnt him, the ants bit him and the flies buzzed around him, but he didn’t move so much as a muscle. Eventually he was rewarded as the lion came into view, heading for the cave. It was an enormous beast with huge jaws, which were still dripping with the blood of its latest victim. Hercules crouched, scarcely daring to breathe, until the lion was well within range of his bow. Then he leapt to his feet and shot a flight of arrows with deadly accuracy. To his amazement, however, the arrows simply bounced off, so he drew his sword and charged, aiming to stab the beast in the heart. Alas the sword did
