by carl ashmore
Twenty five feet.
Twenty feet.
Fifteen feet.
Suddenly, pointed branches tore at his skin. Pain shot through his body as a tree slowed his descent. THUMP, he landed hard against the unyielding earth. Every inch of his body burned with agony. Struggling to his knees, he watched the Harpy thrash and flay as it dropped from the sky, hurtling into the ground in an explosion of sand and dust.
The second Harpy saw its lifeless companion and pivoted towards Will. With a shriek, it charged. Calmly, Will closed his eyes and waited for impact.
*
‘HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!’ Uncle Percy bellowed, forcing Bertha to maximum speed and aiming her at the Harpy like a missile.
Becky just had enough time to seize the handrail when -SMAASSSSH - the campervan crashed into the Harpy, shuddering violently as metal crunched bone. The force of impact pitched the Harpy into the jagged cliff, its body landing in a motionless heap. Dead. Uncle Percy swung the van round and braked. He leapt from the driver’s door and sprinted over to Will. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Aye,’ Will replied, his hand pressed firmly against his left shoulder. Uncle Percy removed the hand carefully to reveal a deep gash. He examined it closely. ‘I can fix it.’ Jumping to his feet, he raced back to the campervan. Becky rushed over, Joe close behind, his face colourless.
‘WILL!’ Becky breathed, dropping to her knees. ‘Are you -?’
‘I am fine, child.’ Will watched as tears formed in Becky’s eyes. ‘Worry not. This is nothing your uncle cannot heal.’
Uncle Percy opened a compartment under the rear seat. He rifled through assorted gadgets before finding the medi-box. A few seconds later, he knelt beside Will, a bottle of lime-green liquid and what looked like a screwdriver in his hands. ‘Now, this might hurt a tad, Will.’ He switched on the device. It hummed faintly and a blue beam shot from its tip.
Becky and Joe watched helplessly as Uncle Percy ensured the light crossed every cut, every bruise. After a few minutes he looked up, satisfied. ‘He’ll be fine.’
After setting Will in the shade, Uncle Percy returned to the boy.
‘I’m Percy Halifax. This is Becky and Joe. And that man over there is Will. We are visitors to these shores and mean you no harm.’
The boy smiled feebly. After a few uncomfortable moments where Becky thought the transvocalisors had been damaged, he spoke in a rather nervous squeak. ‘I - I am Phineus of Athens.’
‘A pleasure to meet you, Phineus,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Would you care for some water?’
Phineus nodded. ‘Please, yes, water.’
Uncle Percy returned a moment later with a plastic water bottle. Phineus’ face turned white. ‘What kind of sorcery is this?’
Uncle Percy smiled. ‘It’s quite all right, Phineus. It’s what we call plastic. Where we come from plastic is very common.’
Phineus eyed the container warily. Hesitantly, he took a drink.
‘So, Phineus, do your parents live around here?’ Uncle Percy asked.
‘My parents are with the Gods,’ Phineus replied. ‘Like you, I am not of this place. Our boat is moored here.’
‘Your boat?’ Uncle Percy probed.
‘The Argo. Alas, she suffered damage passing the Clashing Rocks of Izos, my comrades are making repairs whilst I explore the island. I was gathering olives when the sky-beasts attacked.’
But Becky only heard the first two words: The Argo. The Argo was Jason’s legendary boat in the quest for the Golden Fleece. Uncle Percy clearly couldn’t believe it either. ‘You’re an Argonaut?’
‘I am,’ Phineus replied.
‘And the captain of your ship is … Jason?’
‘You know of my master?’ Phineus asked.
‘Only by reputation.’
‘As you should.’ Phineus’ chest swelled with pride. ‘He is a remarkable man, a great leader and a fierce warrior. I doubt whether there is a braver man in the breadth of Mycenae.’
‘Will you take us to him?’
Phineus took a side-ways glance at the lifeless Harpies. ‘Well -’ he bowed his head. ‘- I owe you my life. It is the least I can do.’
Uncle Percy turned to Becky, a glint in his eyes. She smiled back. They had been blessed with the most extraordinary luck. According to legend, Jason, the Argo, the Argonauts, and the Golden Fleece were inextricably linked. And, although she knew Uncle Percy rarely found truth in legends - well, perhaps this time could be the exception. Perhaps this was more than coincidence.
*
Uncle Percy decided they would need a substantial lunch, and Will a few hours rest, before they set off to meet the Argonauts. And, as Becky protested to eating beside two fly-ridden Harpy corpses, they drove deep into Andrana’s Valley, stopping beside a shallow brook. After lunch, Uncle Percy conducted safety checks on Bertha to ensure everything worked properly. Phineus, meanwhile, took great interest in the vehicle’s damaged bodywork. ‘What manner of chariot is this?’
‘It’s a new model,’ Uncle Percy said cagily.
‘But how does it move? Where are the horses?’
Uncle Percy thought it would be pointless to explain the finer details of automotive engineering. ‘They’re underneath.’
‘Underneath?’ Phineus asked in disbelief. ‘What breed are they?’
Uncle Percy checked he was out of earshot. ‘They’re a British breed - Devonshire Bunny Horses. Very rare, indeed.’
Phineus’ eyes widened. ‘How are they harnessed beneath such a - ’
‘Well, they’re actually very small,’ Uncle Percy interrupted. ‘No bigger than rabbits, hence the name…’
‘How many are there?’
‘Ten.’ Uncle Percy blushed.
Phineus fell to the ground, eager to examine the van’s undercarriage. ‘Where are they?’
‘Oh, you won’t be able to see them,’ Uncle Percy said, heaving a disappointed Phineus back to his feet. ‘When I start the chariot, their legs lower and they start running. They have incredibly long legs for such tiny things.’
‘May I see one?’
‘I’m afraid they don’t respond well to strangers. They’re likely to bite.’
‘Bite?’
‘Oh, yes, this breed is renowned for its nipping. They have very sharp teeth.’
‘Perhaps they would be happier if they ran free.’
‘Ah, that would be bad. They hate sunlight, you see. It sends them into a violent frenzy. If I set them free it could turn very nasty. A bloodbath! I’ll let them out tonight when it’s dark.’
Phineus looked sad. ‘Perhaps that would be best.’
Uncle Percy gave a loud sigh of relief.
By the time it came to leave, Will had made an excellent recovery. In fact, it had been a pleasant few hours, the only sobering moment occurred when Phineus examined Uncle Percy’s cane and nearly blew his head off. But after the panic had faded, they left refreshed, ready for their trip to the coast.
*
However, what they hadn’t realised was that since their arrival on Crete, a large black bird had been studying their every move. And, as the campervan disappeared from sight, the bird’s eyes snapped shut - the ambo-processor in its head stopped recording, its homing device activated. Its creator was waiting.
As the bird approached a clearing at the peak of a white mountain, a man in a dark cloak met it, a thick hood masking his face from the blazing sun. He held a device showing, in total clarity, everything in the bird’s eye-line. He turned a toggle and the bird collapsed in a soulless heap at his feet. He placed it into a satchel. Then he turned to a limousine parked nearby. A limousine that once belonged to the Russian dictator, Joseph Stalin – a man who arrested, imprisoned and executed millions of his own citizens.
The man rubbed his hands with anticipation. He had a short but crucial journey in time to make. It was a trip that, regardless of the outcome, would bring him much amusement.
Chapter 9
Argonauts
&nbs
p; Even with the air conditioning at full blast, the campervan felt like an oven. Becky watched Phineus who was lying spread-eagled on the floor, his ear tightly pressed against the metal panelling. ‘Phineus, what are you doing?’
‘Listening,’ Phineus replied, a faraway smile on his lips.
‘To what?’
‘To the horses.’
‘The what?’
‘The little horses. They are most wondrous.’
Uncle Percy gave an unusually loud cough. ‘Phineus, if you could return to your seat, please.’
‘What horses?’ Becky probed.
‘The Dev-on-shire Bunny Horses,’ he said. ‘I can hear them.’
‘Your seat, Phineus …’ Uncle Percy said awkwardly.
‘What’re you going on about?’ Becky continued.
‘Beautiful scenery, isn’t it?’ Uncle Percy said at the top of his voice, before bursting into a peculiarly enthusiastic bout of whistling.
Phineus returned reluctantly to his seat, his eyes exploring every inch of the campervan as though a new discovery waited in every corner. Joe stared at Phineus, with the same bemused expression as his sister. This was an Argonaut?
‘This is the most uncommon chariot I have ever seen,’ Phineus said. ‘This Brit-ain from which you hail must be a wonderful place.’
Joe looked at the campervan indifferently. ‘S’pose. We’ve got loads better stuff than this, though.’
‘Better?’ Phineus asked. ‘But what could be better?’
Joe pondered for a moment. ‘Err, Man-chest-er City.’
‘And what is Manchester City?’
‘It’s a football team,’ Joe said. ‘The best team in the world.’
‘What is football?’
‘It’s a game. Eleven men verses eleven men - one ball.’
‘What is ball?’
‘It’s a round object, full of air.’ Joe spread out his hands as if holding an invisible ball. ‘You kick it.’
‘Why?’
‘So you can score.’
‘What is score?’
‘When you kick the ball in the net.’
‘What is net?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Joe scowled, his tone suggesting that he hoped the other Argonauts were a significant improvement on this one.
Becky smiled, turned to the window and caught sight of the Aegean Sea. The crystal-blue water extended to the horizon, bordered by a blanket of rambling white sand. And, as the valley merged into the shore, she noticed a boat anchored fifty feet from the beach.
Phineus bolted upright. ‘The Argo.’
An air of anticipation swept through the van. They all strained to get a better look at the celebrated ship. The closer they came, however, the more Becky sensed disappointment filter through the van, and with good reason. The Argo was, without doubt, the smallest, shabbiest looking vessel imaginable. A crooked wooden mast rose from the deck with a dirty green sail that hung limp like a soggy piece of lettuce.
‘Is that it?’ Joe said, rather loudly. ‘It’s tiny.’
‘Tis big enough,’ Phineus said defiantly.
‘For fifty men?’ Joe blustered.
‘Fifty?’ Phineus snorted, offended by Joe’s tone. ‘But only four undertook the journey.’
Joe slumped miserably in his seat. ‘Four? But I thought there were fifty - ’
Uncle Percy interrupted, his voice flat and disenchanted. ‘Phineus, about the Argo, is it sinking?’
‘No.’ He tried to sound positive. ‘Jason said he -’
‘What-a-blinkin’-shock,’ Joe growled, folding his arms.
At once, Becky knew Uncle Percy to be right. The Argo was sinking and sinking fast. The prow tilted down, half submerged in water and she could make out two small figures, scurrying around on the deck, emptying buckets over the side.
Uncle Percy steered Bertha into a small cave and urged them to exit as quickly as possible.
‘Can we not ride the chariot on to the beach?’ Phineus said. ‘I am certain my comrades would be keen to see it.’
Deeming the fewer people who saw Bertha the better, Uncle Percy leant towards Phineus, careful of being overheard. ‘I don’t like to talk about it in front of Becky and Joe, it upsets them, but the horses hate sand. In fact, they’re allergic to it. They develop green boils all over their little bodies if they come into contact with it.’
Phineus nodded with concern. ‘That sounds most worrisome.’
‘Oh, it is,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Anyway, they’ll be fine as long as we keep them away from the beach.’
‘Wise, indeed.’ Phineus said gravely.
Then Joe appeared. ‘Are we going then?’
‘Of course, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Come, Phineus, you must introduce us to your friends.’
Phineus took a lingering look at the time machine and sighed. Then he sprinted out of the cave.
‘Off his box,’ Joe mumbled to Becky, as Phineus disappeared over a dune.
As they trudged across the sand, Becky saw a large man sitting on a boulder, his bulging brown eyes swirled around their sockets and streams of slobber trickled down his stubbly chin.
‘Hail, Theseus,’ Phineus said. ‘Has your condition improved?’
Becky’s ears pricked up. Theseus: the slayer of the Minotaur. At once, her stomach sank. This man was a slobbering wreck.
Theseus raised his head. ‘H-hail Phlinumbleness.’
‘What’s the matter with him?’ Joe blurted.
‘His head was struck when we hit the clashing rocks,’ Phineus said. ‘Jason believes he shall recover in a day or two.’
Becky stared doubtfully at Theseus, who had tilted back on the boulder, his legs dangling, when his eyes rolled white and he collapsed with a heavy thud.
Will raced over and hoisted him back onto the rock.
‘Ooops. My head hurts,’ Theseus gurgled.
‘Here, let me take a look.’ Uncle Percy lifted Theseus’ straggly black hair to reveal a bluish lump the size of a conker. Becky winced.
Fortunately, Uncle Percy knew exactly what to do. After a few minutes of gentle probing, he finally spoke, ‘There’s nothing broken, just severe concussion.’
‘Are you my mother?’ Theseus said in a lazy drawl.
‘Err, ‘fraid not,’ Uncle Percy said, turning to a mortified Phineus. ‘We need to get him out of the sun.’ Struggling, they hauled Theseus to the shade and Uncle Percy spent the next ten minutes treating him with implements from the medi-box. As soon as the swelling had reduced they left him to rest and returned to the beach.
Uncle Percy, his hood shielding his face from the sun, Will, Becky, Joe and Phineus gathered at the shore. The stern rose higher and higher into the air as the Argo tilted at a steep angle.
‘JASON … JASON… I HAVE RETURNED!’ Phineus yelled eagerly.
A small head popped over the side of the boat. Soaked in sweat and spray, Jason stared at the smiling group of strangers. For a brief moment, his bearded face seemed to display shock, but this disappeared almost instantly. ‘Phineus?’ Jason shouted back, intrigued. ‘Who is it that accompanies you?’
‘These are my friends. They saved my life,’ Phineus shouted back. ‘Master, I have so much to tell you. I was attacked!’
Jason whispered something to his fellow Argonaut and they nodded in agreement. Conceding their cause was lost, they pitched the buckets into the sea, jumped overboard and approached the shore. Phineus dashed through the lapping waves, racing towards his mentor.
‘Attacked, you say?’ Jason said. ‘Then it pleases me you are safe.’ As Jason stood upright, Becky noticed something quite unexpected. Phineus towered above him.
‘Jason’s an elf!’ Joe whispered in Becky’s ear.
‘Shhh,’ Becky replied. Nevertheless, she had to agree with Joe. Jason, the famous leader of the Argonauts, was indeed a very, very tiny man.
The second Argonaut approached Phineus. The complete opposite of Jason, he was exceedingly tall, thin, and his round bal
ding head made him look like a giant spoon.
‘Hercules,’ Phineus said. ‘It pleases me to see you.’
‘Hail, Phineus,’ Hercules replied. ‘You say you were attacked by demons? They’re not still around are they?’ He looked nervously at the distant valley.
‘No. My friends slayed them.’
‘Oh, good,’ Hercules replied.
Joe struggled to maintain a respectful silence. ‘That’s Hercules?’
For once, however, Becky could quite understand her brother’s disbelief. Of all the legendary Argonauts, Hercules had to be the most famous. But this Hercules, however, could not have looked more different than the Hercules of legend.
‘Is the Argo doomed, sire?’ Phineus said to Jason.
‘That slab of rotting timber,’ Jason muttered angrily, ‘tis not fit for firewood. You wait ‘til I get my hands on that dung beetle Argus…master shipbuilder, my stumpy rump!’ He scooped up a floating bucket and hurled it at the ship.
‘But what of our quest?’ Phineus asked anxiously. ‘The Fleece of Gold?’
Becky’s heart slammed in her chest. The Argonauts were searching for the Golden Fleece.
‘Fear not,’ Jason said, standing on tiptoes and reaching up to pat Phineus firmly on his shoulder. ‘Something will arise. Anyway, who are your companions?’
‘They are my new friends,’ Phineus said, trailing Jason out of the water. ‘They are strangers here, too. They hail from a far-away land called Brit-ain.’ At these words, Jason’s expression changed. Oblivious to Jason’s reaction, Phineus continued. ‘I was gathering olives when I was attacked by sky demons. These fair people rescued me, and - ’
But Jason had stopped listening.
Becky knew something was wrong. She stared at Jason, but it looked clear he was focused on only one thing, one person: Uncle Percy.
Uncle Percy had noticed it, too. Slowly, he removed his hood.
