The Twelve Labours of Hercules

by Joe Corcoran

next challenge.

  Shortly after you left for the baths, began Pittheus, a rider arrived at the city gates. He said he had come from Lerna and had ridden all night to get here. He seemed to be in terrible pain and, although he could barely speak, he begged to be brought before me to tell his story. He had been an engineer sent from Lerna to the nearby marshes in order to drain them and prepare the land for farming. He had a good number of labourers with him and also some soldiers, as the marshes were said to be a hideout for bandits. At first the work went well, but as they pushed further into the marsh, they noticed disturbing signs. A terrible smell like rotting food. Things moving under the surface of the water. Sounds of a huge beast stalking them - always just out of sight. By now a thick mist had come down, and the men decided that work would have to stop for the day. They packed up their tools ready to head back to the camp, looking forward to a warm fire, food and bed. It was then that the beast struck, appearing out of the mist with a huge roar. It had the body of a gigantic dog, but where a dog would have had one head, this had eight or nine. It was impossible to tell exactly how many because each head was on the end of a long neck, like a snake, and they constantly writhed and twined around one another. The creature’s breath was poison, and the men nearest were gasping for air and clutching at their throats as soon as it appeared. Wherever it stepped the plants turned brown, withered and died. For a moment the beast just stood there, but then a head lashed out at one of the men, sending him flying into the air. Then another. Then another. Until all the men, even the soldiers, were running around in panic.

  It was the engineer himself who managed to keep his calm and so save the situation. He tore a piece from his cloak to cover his nose and mouth, as protection from the poison. Then he noticed one soldier carried a bugle and ordered him to blow it so that the men could follow the sound and regroup. Next he ordered two soldiers who carried bows to fire arrows at the beast to keep it back while the others got away. In this way they made it back to their camp, following the sound of the bugle to safety. Although the engineer had been hurt by breathing the monster’s poison, he set off at once to warn the king and to beg for his assistance.

  “My wise friends,” finished Pittheus, “have told me that this beast is called a Hydra. It is the result of evil sorcery and must be destroyed before it has a chance to breed. So, Hercules, your second challenge is to kill the Lernaean Hydra and secure the marshes.”

  With barely a nod of his head to show that he had understood, Hercules was on his feet and heading for the door. It was clear that the mission had now seized control of him. His actions showed that he was already thinking through his plan, for, as he left the room, he made time to drain a cup of water and to fill his pockets with food. Who knew how long it might be before fresh water and good food would be available to him again. Only his respect for the peace and quiet of Pittheus’ many other guests stopped him from breaking into a run as he made his way through the palace grounds. At last he reached the gates and burst through them, ready to let his feet fly in pursuit of his quarry.

  “SIRE!” The shout stopped Hercules in his tracks, and he turned to see the young man who had found him at the baths. Over his shoulder, and with some obvious effort, he carried Hercules’ club.

  “Sire,” he repeated, more quietly, “I realised that you had left the baths naked, and so I returned to bring you your personal effects. Alas,” and here the young man shuffled his feet in embarrassment, “I was only strong enough to bring one thing.” Here he held out the handle of the club for Hercules to take, bowing slightly as he did so. At this point Hercules realised that he had been about to set off on a dangerous mission naked, except for a borrowed cloak, and with no weapons. He fixed the young man with a steady gaze.

  “What is your name?” growled Hercules, and, although he had not even reached for his club, the guards at the gate seemed to shrink lower behind their shields when they heard his tone. But the young man held Hercules’ gaze and the club did not shake in his hands.

  “Iolaus,” he answered.

  “Well, Iolaus,” said Hercules in a less threatening voice, “it was a wise choice to bring my weapon first, rather than my armour – defence on its own is never a good strategy. However, I can cut a new club from any olive tree I pass. The chances of my finding another invulnerable lion on my journey are quite small.”

  Iolaus hung his head and looked so sad that Hercules immediately regretted his harsh words. Slinging his club over his back, he asked the young man, “Can you drive a chariot?” and, when Iolaus nodded to confirm that he could, Hercules continued, “Go back to the baths and collect my cloak, then borrow the fastest chariot you can find and see if you can catch me up. I will be taking the road to Lerna”, and with that Hercules set off at a run towards the city gates and out into the countryside beyond. Before long he heard the rattle of wheels behind him, and he turned to see Iolaus driving a chariot, with a team of four horses, at terrific speed along the road. As the chariot drew alongside him, and without causing it even to slow in its headlong flight, Hercules swung himself up onto the platform beside his young driver. There, folded neatly, he found his lion skin cloak, which he happily put on.

  “Now we’re ready for anything,” he shouted to Iolaus above the noise of the wind that was whipping around the fast moving chariot, “forward, charioteer, forward to Lerna!”

  They reached the marshes just before dawn. Everything was covered in a thick mist, and the whole world looked grey. Hercules wanted to rush in and confront the beast, but Iolaus suggested they drive the chariot around the edge of the marsh to see if they could spot the Hydra’s lair.

  “It will be quicker than blundering around in that mist,” he said, and Hercules was forced to agree.

  Sure enough, they reached the far side of the swamp just as the sun’s heat had burnt off most of the mist. There they saw a glade of trees and, in the middle of the trees, a cave. From the mouth of the cave came a constant stream of poisonous gas - rising in clouds above the bare branches of the little wood.

  “That must be its lair,” roared Hercules, and he was all ready to spring off the chariot and into the attack when Iolaus stopped him.

  “Wait,” said the clever young man, “that cloak of yours will protect you from any weapon, but how will it save you from a cave full of poison gas?” Hercules saw the sense in this and waited while Iolaus continued. “Here, I brought some fire arrows. Take one and shoot it deep into the cave. That should force the beast out into the open.”

  Hercules, who was a better archer than any man alive, snatched up the bow and with one smooth movement had sent a fiery arrow into the dark depths of the cave. Just as Iolaus had predicted, there was a terrible roar and, one after another, seven snaky heads emerged from the cave followed by the beast’s body, which did indeed have the form of an enormous dog. Hercules unslung his club and rushed through the marsh towards his enemy. At the last minute he took a huge gulp of air and, from then on, held his breath to protect himself from the monster’s poison. Then he continued his attack, closing in on the Hydra and swinging his club this way and that with the aim of crushing its skulls. But the snaky heads were too quick, they weaved and dodged and ducked, always keeping clear of the big club. One of them would even have given Hercules a nasty bite if he hadn’t have been wearing his lion skin. Now, desperately needing to take a breath, Hercules threw caution to the wind and dived on one of the heads, wrestled it to the ground and finally succeeded in crushing it with one huge blow of his club. Jumping clear and running to a safe distance from the enraged beast, Hercules took another huge breath before clamping his mouth shut and turning to charge back to the fight. But what a sight met his eyes! From the end of its injured neck, the Hydra was growing three new heads. As Hercules watched they reached full size and started to look around to find whoever had dared to attack them. Never one to give up, Hercules shifted the grip on his club and prepared to advance, when …

  “Ow!” Hercules cried out in pain and sur
prise. Looking down, he saw that a huge crab had emerged from the marsh and had clamped its claw around his foot. Hercules went to stamp on the crab, but he was off balance, and his foot slid of the shiny shell making him slip and stumble. Fighting to stay on his feet, Hercules dropped his club, and immediately the crab caught it up in its claws and carried it off into the marsh. With his weapon gone, he could only stand and watch as the Hydra advanced. Slowly it came forward, pushing through the trees, until its heads were within striking distance of the defenceless hero. But, just as the first head was drawing back to strike, there was a twang and a thud, and the beast roared in pain as a flaming arrow caught it right in one of its mouths. Iolaus, seeing Hercules in trouble, had advanced through the marsh until he came within bowshot. Now arrows rained down, most missing the beast but, instead, setting fire to the trees around it, giving Hercules vital time to recover.

  “Hercules, catch,” shouted Iolaus, throwing a sword with all his strength. It was a good throw, but it was clear that it would fall short and into the marsh. Desperately Hercules dived and caught the hilt of the sword at