The Twelve Labours of Hercules

by Joe Corcoran

manage, “I am in quite a hurry.”

  “No time passes while you are here,” replied Zeus mildly, “we can take as long as we like to talk. You are, after all, my son and I should like to know you better. Someday, when your mortal part is dead, I would like you to come and live here with the other gods. See, I have prepared a couch for you,”

  Zeus pointed into the large hall with the fire at the centre. Before it had been empty. Now it was filled with ghostly figures – a vision of what might be in the future. The gods were reclining on their couches, enjoying a feast. There were twelve places, but only eleven gods – one couch was empty.

  “And what if I fail the final challenge?” asked Hercules, “what if Alcyoneus returns to make war on the gods.”

  To his surprise, Zeus merely shrugged.

  “It will be a great war. A fight such as the world has not seen for a long age. In the end the gods will prevail, just as we have many times before.”

  “And what about men?” asked Hercules, “they have no defences against Alcyoneus. Will you simply let them be destroyed?”

  “If that is what must be, then it must be,” replied Zeus, “this is not the first race of men that I will have seen come and go, in fact it is the fifth. The first was the golden race, so wise, talented and healthy as to be almost gods themselves. They were our friends and companions, but they left this earth long long ago, and we know not where they went. The next race was the silver race, they were also worthy and good. They farmed the land, growing grapes, wheat and olives. Some of the silver race still live, the silent heroes hiding amongst the rest. Next came two races of bronze, the second destroyed the first and I destroyed the second. They were disgusting - running around unclothed and eating raw flesh - they did not deserve the earth. Finally we have the current race of men, the race of iron. They started no better than the bronze, but Prometheus took it on himself to teach them some good behaviours, and so they survive still.”

  Zeus stopped, seeming to think for a moment before continuing, “Yes, it would be a shame to see them destroyed just when they are beginning to be interesting. Not a disaster, but definitely a shame, so you had better listen carefully as I explain your final challenge,”

  Here Zeus cleared his throat and drew himself up to his full height, “my brother, Hades, believes himself to be the rightful ruler of the gods. He is the eldest, but he is not the strongest or the wisest, and it is good to remind him of this from time to time. He has a dog, which he dearly loves. You may have heard of it. It is named Cerberus.”

  Of course Hercules had heard of Cerberus. It was a giant beast with three heads and razor sharp jaws, which could slice up the bodies of the living or the dead with equal ease. For this reason, Hades used Cerberus as a guard dog, or more correctly as a threat – if you misbehaved in the Underworld then the worst punishment of all was to be fed to Cerberus.

  “You would like me to kill this dog?” said Hercules, secretly wondering if Zeus was going a little far with this last challenge.

  “Not kill, but capture,” replied Zeus, “I would like to have Hades’ favourite pet delivered to me. I shall keep it safe and sound as a constant reminder that Hades rules the Underworld only because I allow it.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to …” began Hercules, but before he finished his question there was a flash of light, and he found himself back on the mountainside holding the apple above his head. Sighing at the thought that he might never understand the ways of his father, Hercules placed the apple carefully on the ground, and then headed back to the town as fast as his legs would carry him.

  The Twelfth Challenge: Cerberus

  As Hercules approached the entrance to the Underworld, he saw that a small crowd of townspeople were waiting for him. Iolaus was there too, with the astronomer, and as promised, the chariot was ready and everything was prepared. Without pausing, Hercules leapt onto the platform of the chariot and grabbed the reins, impatient to be started on the journey to Tartarus. He was surprised to look round and find that Iolaus was not beside him. In fact the young man had remained by the group of people, and now he cleared his throat.

  “I see, King Hercules, that you are preparing to give a speech,” he said, “because, as you instructed, I have been observing your new subjects and now pronounce Striasta to be the wisest and most worthy of the population.”

  Here Iolaus paused to indicate the town astronomer. Hercules stared at the man, then he finally remembered that he had asked Iolaus to find a new Steward for the town, and slowly he turned to face the crowd.

  “People of …” Hercules hesitated, realising that he still didn’t know the name of the town, but it was too late now, he had to go on,” … Herculaneum - as this fine town will henceforth be known. I, your king, cannot yet stay with you, although this is everything that I desire. Therefore I appoint Striasta as my Steward, to rule in my place until I return. As a token of my confidence in him, I give him this …” again Hercules stuttered to a halt, realising that he had nothing of value to give the man. Then he had an idea and drew an arrow from his quiver. “I give him this arrow as a symbol that he, and the whole town, are under my protection. Woe betide anyone who would do you ill.”

  Striasta came forward, took the arrow and swore his loyalty to Hercules and to the town. Then Iolaus, wanting to spare Hercules from any further public speaking, climbed aboard the chariot and drove it slowly down into the Underworld, while Hercules waved farewell and the people cheered. It made for a dramatic exit, although the effect was spoiled by the herd of cattle who were now tethered to the chariot and trailed along behind.

  Once they were out of sight, Hercules removed the shadow compass from its case and whispered to it their destination – ‘Troezen’, where they would need to go first to drop the cattle. The tunnel was long and straight, but it was still a comfort to feel the arrow moving round to point the way ahead. As he turned to face the same way, Hercules brushed his hand against something new on the rail of the chariot. It looked like a bowl of sand sitting in the middle of an ornate frame. He went to pick it up, but Iolaus called out to him to stop.

  “That device is an invention of Striasta,” he said, “the sand runs slowly out of the bowl and collects underneath. When the bowl is empty we must replace the sand and start again.”

  “What use is this child’s toy to us?” Hercules asked.

  “It takes exactly one day for the bowl to empty twenty times,” answered Iolaus, “we can tell how long we have been travelling, and so we will know how long we have left to complete the challenge.”

  At first this bowl of sand was a comfort, and they were both eager to replace the sand when it ran out. However it soon became clear that they were being slowed down hugely by the cattle, and they both started to become nervous. As time went by and they had still not reached Troezen, Hercules became more and more despondent. Finally, as he filled the eighteenth bowl on the second day of their journey, Hercules had had enough. He pulled back on the chariot’s reins and the hind skidded to a halt.

  “Why are we stopping?” cried Iolaus, “We must be close by now.”

  “What’s the use?” replied Hercules, “The second day is almost at an end. Even if we get the cattle to Troezen, I’ll have no time at all to complete the final challenge, the year will be over.”

  “The year, yes,” said Iolaus, “but how long did Zeus say that you had to complete the twelve challenges?”

  “A year,” said Hercules, sadly. Then his voice brightened as he remembered fully, “and a day,” he cried, “I had a year and a day. It can still be done.”

  “Time will still be tight,” said Iolaus, “but maybe I can help with that.”

  He jumped lightly from the chariot, and began to untie the cattle.

  “I will take Geryon’s herd to Troezen, and you can go direct to Tartarus. I will find a way to join you as soon as I can.”

  Hercules did not like to be parted from his friend, but he knew it was the only way they could succeed. He made sure th
at Iolaus was heading in the right direction, then whispered to the shadow compass ‘Tartarus’ and he was away.

  Iolaus found it more difficult than he thought to travel the tunnels of the Underworld on foot. He made sure that he always looked straight ahead, but he could still hear the whisperings of the shadows in the walls, trying to trick him, trying to make him look. Then things got worse. He came to a crossroads in the tunnel. How could he tell which was the right way without the shadow compass?

  “This way, Iolaus, this way,” came a voice from his left.

  It was the voice of his grandfather.

  “I’m just down here, Iolaus, I’m trapped. Just a few steps and you could save me,” the voice pleaded, but Iolaus remembered what Hercules had said - about things in the tunnels that wanted you to lose yourself. He took a deep breath and turned right.

  “Don’t leave me here,” whined the voice, “it’s dark and I’m scared,”

  Iolaus kept on walking.

  “Stupid boy, that’s the wrong way, you’ll get lost.”

  Iolaus kept going.

  “How dare you disobey me, you ungrateful little wretch.”

  Now the voice sounded less and less like his grandfather, and Iolaus found it easier to keep walking. He was convinced now that he was heading in the right direction, and as the voice dissolved into incoherent shrieks behind