If any of the Amazons demurred or said anything about the fine time she had had, Hera replied. “And you think that fine lad's head was turned by your pretty face, an old war horse like you, all of twenty-five and veteran of three campaigns? What could he really see in you? Wake up.”
“Well, some men like a woman with …”
“Isn't everything a little too good to be true? Has any of them asked for money after giving you their favours? Have they held out for marriage? When did men ever just give it away?”
“Ah, well, that's true enough but …”
“You all know you always pay for it, somehow.”
“That Theseus, though, is such a sweet …”
“I tell you they are a bunch of tarts, especially trained in war and they are up to something.”
Then Hera would start speculating.
“They are here to taint our own dear, gentle men. To teach them their ways of easy virtue and fast living, to rebel against the wise control of a wife or mother. They wish to teach our girls subservience. They would subvert the Goddess and introduce the worship of Zeus and the phallus, mark my words.
And, finally, she simply said she had actually overheard Hercules and his companions plotting to kidnap Queen Hippolyta. That was enough. Though there had been no let up in their enjoyment of the heroes, everyone certainly had gradually become more suspicious as Hera's lies had spread. Now the Amazons became enraged.
After arming themselves the Amazons rushed to the room that had been given to the heroes to rest in during the day. Hercules was telling his friends that the queen was insisting on one more instalment before giving up the girdle. Though expensive, it was not really magic and she deemed it a small price to pay for the fun she was having.
Just then one of the Amazons burst into the room, not simply carrying personal weapons as usual but very heavily armed. In a trice they had killed a couple of the utterly surprised heroes. The others began to scramble for their weapons, or picked up furniture with which to defend themselves. Thinking themselves betrayed by those they had come to trust, they went berserk with rage, particularly Hercules.
Dodging a sword thrust from the first Amazon who came at him, he grabbed her arm and broke it like a stick, taking her weapon. With this sword he flew into the midst of the Amazons and slew them furiously. They were good warriors, some even excellent, but none was a match for such a hand-picked band of heroes, most of whom were in some way or the other touched by the gods.
At last Hercules and Hippolyta came face to face. Their eyes lit up at sight of each other and without hesitation they converged at once, swinging their swords for a killing blow. The blades clashed and a furious duel began. Hippolyta was not queen by heredity but because she was the greatest warrior of her generation. Any heroes who crossed swords with her were in a fight for their lives, even Hercules.
Nevertheless, as they fought, and all around them battled too, Hercules was aware of an Amazon standing behind Hippolyta. This woman took no part in the action, in which so many of her comrades were dying, but to whisper advice in the queen's ear and call out for his blood. A hatred of this odd woman grew in him. Perhaps to delay coming to real death blows with Hippolyta, whom he admired more and more by the second, he determined to kill the other one first.
Feigning to move left, he went right and came around the queen, in a flash striking a blow that should have cut the woman in half. Instead his sword went through her without resistance, leaving her standing there, laughing. Seeing this, he paused for only an instant, but he had exposed his left side badly and as a blow fell towards his head, which would have split it to his shoulders had it landed, he ducked and rolled. The roll was inwards, towards his attacker. Dropping his weapon, he took hold of the queen and threw her to the floor.
Beneath them lay the body of an Amazon with a broken spear threw her chest and this is what Hippolyta landed on. The spear pierced her lower back and with a scream she stopped struggling and looked up at him and the woman beside him. All this had taken no time at all. She had seen the sword pass through the woman but so intent on her attack had she been that it had not registered. Now, as death drew near, the significance was plain to her. Hera appeared as herself and the image of the carping woman who had started it all faded before their eyes. Everyone stopped fighting, including the few Amazons still alive.
“My,” Hera said, looking fully herself now. “I haven't broken up the party again, have I? You all seemed to be having nearly as much fun as you were thrashing about with one another in a different fashion. What a betrayal of principles that was. Shame on you all. It had to be put a stop to.”
“It was you,” gasped Hippolyta.
“So?” Hera shrugged. “I'll be seeing you Hercules. Another time another place, I will defeat you.” With that she disappeared.
Struggling with the buckles of her girdle, gritting her teeth against the pain of moving with the spear deep in her back, Hippolyta reached up to hand it to Hercules as he knelt beside her.
“Take it,” she said, smiling weakly. “You were the best f…f…fight I ever had.”
Smiling back at her, he took the girdle and her hand.
“You too,” he told her.
With a slight gasp and a tighter grip on his hand, she died.
“It's all bloodstained and a little torn,” Eurystheus complained, looking aghast at the girdle as he held it in his fingertips. “Oh, who wants it anyway.” He tossed it aside. “Why did you delay returning, Hercules? What was the meaning of all that faffing about in Troy?”
“I slew a sea monster for King Laomedon,” Hercules sighed. “But he cheated me of my reward.”
“Serves you right,” sniffed Eurystheus.
“I'll pay him out later,” Hercules smiled thinly.
“Well, in the meantime, you are still working for me,” Eurystheus said with a sneer. “And as it happens I have hit on a most unusual and very special labour for you this time.”
“Yes?” Hercules mumbled, not hiding the weariness in his voice.
“I want the Cattle of Geryon. Don't know why exactly, but I must have them. Simple as that. Leave now,” he smiled wickedly. “And mind how you go.”
Now this labour was monumental and epic in scale of time, deed and distance. The island of Erythia, where Geryon lived, was literally at the end of the earth, beyond the ocean. Geryon himself was a threebodied monster, his herdsman a giant and his dog a vicious two-headed hound.
Only with divine help did Hercules succeed in crossing the ocean from Tartessus (Spain) and back again, after killing all the monsters and taking the cattle. To commemorate his achievement he built the pillars of Hercules at the entrance to the Mediterranean and from there he drove the cattle to Greece, having other adventures, founding cities and doing wonders all along the way. When at last he delivered the cattle, Eurystheus sacrificed them to Hera. Thus ended Hercules’ first labour that was, in fact, a battle with death itself and forces well outside the mortal realm.
The Apples of the Hesperides were the next prizes Eurystheus sent him after.
“Where are they?” Hercules asked.
“How should I know,” Eurystheus shrugged. “Just go get them.” He scowled. “Right?”
Hercules nodded resignedly.
The Hesperides were three daughters of Atlas and Hesperas who lived far away, again like the land where Geryon had dwelt, to the west. They guarded a tree upon which golden apples grew. Originally a present from Gea to Hera when she wedded Zeus, the tree had been put in the fabulous garden of the Hesperides. Here a serpent called Ladon helped the sisters watch over the apples.
Simply finding out where he had to go was the first obstacle in Hercules’ way. Heading north in the first instance the nymphs of the River Eirdanus advised him to ask the sea-god Nereus. Eventually, with the mischievous god changing into many different shapes and being generally difficult, Hercules had literally to lay hands on him to make him talk. Then the real journey began.
While passing through Egypt he was taken prisoner by the king, Busiris, who was in the habit of sacrificing a foreigner each year in hopes of ending a terrible famine. Hercules was chosen as that year's victim and taken to the temple, where he succeeded in throwing off his chains and escaping, after slaying Busiris and his son Amphidamas.
Arriving next in Ethiopia, Hercules killed another king and replaced him with a better man before travelling on once more. In the end he could not bare to confront yet more females in a mission of thievery.
Earlier, while in the Caucasus, Hercules had shot the eagle that fed on the liver of Prometheus, and rescuing that long suffering individual, he was given yet more valuable advice. Acting on this eventually, Hercules found his way to the realm in which Atlas stood balancing the world on his shoulders. Here they made a bargain.
Hercules agreed to relieve Atlas of his burden for a time if Atlas would go and pick the golden apples for him. As it happened, Atlas was so grateful for the break that when he returned, he had second thoughts about resuming his awesome responsibility.
Masking his dismay, Hercules had to think fast.
“Oh, Athene,” he laughed, for she from above was assisting him in this present feat of cosmic strength. “Who would have thought it would be so easy.”
“What do you mean by that?” Atlas demanded.
“Never mind,” Hercules grinned. “You can go now, and be quick about it.”
“Exactly what are you trying to pull?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing at all.”
“You weren't after my job all along, were you?”
“Well,” Hercules winked. “Did you really believe that yarn about the apples?”
“Wait a minute. I'll have my world back, thank you very much,” Atlas began to fume. “You can't pull the wool over my eyes so easily.”
“All right,” Hercules smiled. “Catch.”
As Atlas dropped the apples and struggled to get his grip and balance on the world, Hercules scooped up the golden orbs and left in a hurry. When he finally got back with them, Eurystheus told Hercules he could keep the apples. This uncharacteristic gesture was almost certainly due to his fear of bringing divine wrath upon himself. Hercules then gave the apples to Athene, who returned them to the Hesperides.
Drunk at the time and sick of always being bested by Hercules, Eurystheus thought he had come up with something truly impossible for the final labour. Hercules, he said, was to bring him back Cerberus, the three-headed hound that guards the gates of hell.
For this mission, Hercules first had himself initiated into the infernal mysteries at Eleusis and then, guided by Hermes, made his way down a subterranean passage descending from Cape Taenarum. For a while everything he encountered was more afraid of him than he was of it. Everything fled at his approach, except the ghost of Meleager, whose sister he promised to marry, and the Gorgon, whom he overcame.
Farther along he found Theseus and Pirithous chained up for the attempted kidnap/rescue of the fair Persephone. Freeing Theseus, he was prevented from helping Pirithous by a sudden earthquake. Wounding Hades himself, he forced the god to allow him to take away Cerberus. The only condition was that he must subdue the beast without the use of any weapon other than his bare hands.
In a monumental struggle Hercules brought the hellish animal to heel by nearly strangling it. Then, dragging the awful beast by the scruff of its neck up to the surface of the earth, he brought it to the utterly flabbergasted Eurystheus. At long last, his labours were over.
From here on for the rest of his mortal life Hercules continued killing harmful beings, avenging wrongs done to himself and others, and conquering and replacing bad kings. Often he was assisted both by the divine Athene and his nephew Iolaus. He also kept getting into trouble.
King Eurytus of Oechalia announced he would give his beautiful daughter, Iole, in marriage to any man who could best him in an archery contest. When Hercules emerged the victor, Eurytus went back on the deal, the hero's lamentable record as a husband being given as the reason. But Hercules loved Iole and never forgave him. Soon afterwards he killed the king's son, though the young man had come to him for help. Once more Hercules went to Delphi to be purified. The killing had been done in a fit of madness, but the Pythian priestess was so perturbed by his behaviour that she turned him away. Enraged, he stole her tripod. A bitter dispute with Apollo resulted and Zeus himself was forced to intervene. In the end the oracle sentenced Hercules to a year of slavery.
In contrast to his servitude to Eurystheus, under Queen Omphale of Lydia it was rather enjoyable. She had paid only three talens for him in an open slave market and at first did not know who he was. Aside from giving her pleasure and spinning wool for his own long robe, while sitting at her feet, he found time for more adventuring: fighting demons, killing a king who forced travellers to work in his vineyard then cut their throats, dispatching a giant serpent and another monarch who was in the habit of making strangers labour in his fields before beheading them with a scythe.
Omphale was so impressed with all this and his unstinting service at home that she gave him his freedom. He then sailed with the Argonauts, but being rather too senior in rank and too experienced to be subordinate to the other heroes, he soon dropped out of the expedition. He took part in Zeus’ battle with the giants and killed the terrible Alcyoneus.
Not long after returning from the underworld, Hercules had kept his promise to the spirit of Meleager to marry his sister, Deianira, daughter of Oeneus, king of Calydon. This promise was not so easy to fulfil, however. He had to wrestle the river god Achelous and defeat him first. Horned like a bull and capable of changing himself into various shapes, Achelous gave Hercules a supremely difficult contest. In the end the river god lost both the match and one of his horns, which Hercules returned.
When going to Tiryns afterwards, Hercules and Deianira had at one point to make a troublesome river crossing. Hercules, encumbered with their baggage, asked the assistance of a centaur, Nessus, who agreed to convey Deianira across. This traitorous creature attempted to ravish the poor woman upon arrival on the far bank, while Hercules struggled in the current. Outraged, the hero flung off his burden and shot the centaur with an arrow, mortally wounding it.
As Nessus died, he asked Deianira's forgiveness and told her that the blood flowing from his wound would make a charm for her that would prevent her husband from loving any woman more than he did herself. It would be many years, after they had settled and had children, before she felt she needed to use it.
Unbeknown to Deianira, Hercules was still angry at King Eurytus of Oechalia and in love with Iole. Fatefully, he determined to go back, have his revenge on the king and win Iole for his second wife or concubine. Only when he mounted an expedition with these objects in mind, did Deianira find out.
When word of his triumphant killing of Eurytus and the sacking of Oechalia reached her, along with the news that he was sending Iole and several women captives home, Deianira really begin to worry. Hercules himself was lingering abroad a time and had asked her to send his white cloak back with his messenger. He wished to wear it in a great thanksgiving sacrifice to Zeus he had planned.
Coating the inside of the cloak with the long hoarded blood of the wicked centaur, Nessus, Deianira sent it on to Hercules. Of course, the dying centaur had lied to her. When Hercules donned the cloak in preparation for the sacrifice, he was suddenly wracked with excruciating pain, as if his flesh were on fire. Learning the truth later, poor Deianira killed herself with a sword. In his agony, Hercules was so maddened as to fling his friend Lichas, the messenger who had brought the cloak, into the sea. Suffering horribly, Hercules next pulled down whole pine trees in a nearby forest. Building his own funeral pyre and lying upon it, he begged someone to light it. No one would at first, but the man who finally did was given as his reward Hercules’ own bow and arrows.
As the flame grew and all fell back from the conflagration, the mortal part of Hercules was consumed by the fire. His soul, howev
er, ascended to Olympus where he was at last reconciled with Hera, who allowed him to marry her daughter, Hebe. Here, for all eternity Hercules was granted rest at last and enjoyment of the blissful life of the Immortals.
Doctor Li Hollow Eyes
Chung-tsu, the most distinguished follower of the founder of the Taoist religion, Laotzu, wrote: “Confucius walks within society whilst I walk outside it.” These two approaches to life are evident in this story which seems to blend the Confucian emphasis of social duty with the notion of individual salvation. There are strong overtones of sorcery here too, reflecting perhaps the influence on Taoism of the animistshamanist religion brought to China by the nomadic tribesmen of North Asia. The sheer but believable goodness of Doctor Li is what I find most striking and it explains why he is so well-loved a legendary figure throughout China.
Doctor Li was a portly man of dignified, gentle and intelligent countenance. Now, for professional and spiritual reasons it was his habit to occasionally leave his body. When he did this his ghost would search the mountains of the west and other realms of interest where few mortal men can go. In these out of the way places, beside icy streams and in sunny meadows on distant plateaux, on cliff edges and sheer slopes, he would gather wild flowers and herbs with medicinal properties. From these he would draw nectar and put it into his spirit bottle, which was rather like a simple leather flask.
The doctor was hardly up to such steep climbs and long journeys in his physical self, which he would leave soundly sleeping in the charge of one of his trusted disciples. It was vital for this young man to guard the doctor from evil spirits, for such creatures might try to occupy the temporarily vacant body, putting it on and running off with it as a thief might steal a coat. This was a dreadful prospect and one that troubled the doctor considerably. Indeed, he left orders to his guardian-disciples to cremate his body after one week, if for any reason his spirit had not returned to it by then.
The day came when one of Li's spirit journeys gave cause for grave concern. It was the fifth day of the doctor's journey and there was no sign of his return. Usually the doctor was back within two or, at the most, three days. The very best of Li's disciples sat watching over his body, and he was more than a little worried.
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