Percy Jackson and the Greek Heroes by Rick Riordan
The crowd erupted with excitement and disbelief. A thousand voices started talking at once. ‘Golden Fleece? Golden Fleece?’ ‘Is he crazy?’ ‘Sweet!’ ‘Super Sheep?’
Pelias raised his hands for silence. The king tried to keep his expression neutral, but inside he was delighted. No one had ever come back from Colchis. This young fool Jason had signed his own death warrant.
‘Well spoken, my supposed nephew!’ said the king. ‘The Golden Fleece would really make this kingdom special. It would unite us as a people and bring peace and prosperity. It would also look amazing in the throne room with those new drapes I just bought. We will let the gods decide your fate! I will not interfere. Seek out the Golden Fleece and bring it back to Iolcus! If you succeed, I will name you the next king.’
Behind Pelias, his son, Acastus, said, ‘What?’
Pelias silenced him with a look. The royal family had nothing to worry about. Even if Jason succeeded, gods forbid, the quest would take years, and that would give Pelias lots of time to think of new ways to kill him.
‘Go with our blessings, Jason.’ Pelias smiled. ‘Let’s see if you are worthy of being the king!’
When word got out about the Golden Fleece quest, every Greek hero wanted to go. Sure, it would be dangerous, but this was the all-star event of a generation. It was like the World Cup, the Olympics, the Super Bowl and an all-you-can-eat tour of Dylan’s Candy Bar rolled into one.
To make the trip to Colchis, Jason needed the fastest, most cutting-edge trireme ever built. It would have to withstand pirates, enemy navies, hurricanes and sea monsters, and its onboard soft-serve ice-cream dispenser could not break down.
The best boat maker in Greece, a guy named Argus, volunteered to build the ship. Athena herself drew up the blueprints. The ship had fifty oars, which was more than any other Greek ship at the time. Its keel was designed to handle the shallowest water without running aground and to sail the open ocean without capsizing. The interior had all the bells and whistles: leather seats, extra legroom, handcrafted catapults that hurled only the finest boulders. The ship even had a voice-recognition interface thanks to its magical prow, which Athena personally carved from a sacred oak tree from the grove of Dodona – the second-most important oracle in Greece.
Apparently the priests of Dodona spent their time dancing around the forest, looking for omens in the shadows and the leaves, waiting for the magical trees to speak to them. Sounds a little fishy to me, but as soon as the Argo’s figurehead was installed the ship acquired its own voice. The magic prow didn’t always feel like talking, but sometimes it gave the sailors advice, or issued prophecies from the gods, or told Jason where the nearest Chinese restaurants were. Jason wanted to call the figurehead Siri, but there were trademark issues.
Once the ship was finished, Argus decided to name it the Argo, after himself, because he was humble that way.
Now all Jason needed were some Argonauts, aka Folks Brave and/or Stupid Enough to Sail on the Argo. He had no problem getting volunteers. Even Hercules showed up, and everybody was like, ‘Whoa! He should totally be the captain!’
But Hercules was like, ‘Guys, come on. This is Jason’s party. I just had a hundred pages of stuff about me.’
And the others agreed that it would be overkill.
Hercules brought along a new sidekick named Hylas, who was his Boy Wonder in training. Argus the shipbuilder signed up, since he knew the Argo better than anybody. Orpheus the musician joined the crew, because it was going to be a long voyage and they would need a good playlist. The great huntress Atalanta joined, too, being pretty much the only woman who could hang out with forty-nine smelly sailors without getting accosted or throwing up.
The strangest recruits were probably the Boreads – Calais and Zetes, two sons of Boreas, the god of the north wind. The brothers looked human, but they had giant feathery purple wings, so you really didn’t want to sit behind them on the rowing benches. The fact they could fly was very helpful, though. They could dart off to the nearest convenience store if any of the Argonauts forgot a toothbrush or deodorant.
Who else? I’m not going to name the whole crew, but most of them were demigods. There were two sons of Zeus, three sons of Ares, two sons of Hermes and one son each of Dionysus, Helios, Poseidon, Hephaestus, and a partridge in a pear tree.
The night before they sailed, the Argonauts sacrificed a couple of cows in honour of the gods. Everybody was nervous and keyed up. The crew camped out on the beach, arguing and fighting and getting all the I’m-better-than-you macho stuff out of their systems. Finally, Orpheus played them some music until they fell asleep.
In the morning, the Argo’s own voice woke them up.
‘Time to go, boys and girls!’ said the magical prow. ‘Time’s a-wasting! There’s a foreign country to be fleeced! Get it? Fleeced?’
The Argonauts climbed aboard and sailed from the harbour while Orpheus and the figurehead sang ‘Ninety-nine Pithoi of Wine on the Wall’ in two-part harmony.
From his palace balcony, King Pelias smiled and waved, muttering to himself, ‘Good riddance. There go fifty heroes I don’t have to worry about any more. I’m totally going to make MVP for the League of Evil Greek Kings this year!’
The rest of the town gathered at the docks and on their rooftops, watching the beautiful ship cut across the calm blue sea. All the Greeks had a feeling that this was their big moment. Never had a finer crew sailed on a better ship for a nobler quest. Jason would either succeed in glory … or he would go down in flames and take the Greeks’ hopes and dreams with him. But no pressure.
The Argo’s first stop was Lemnos, otherwise known as the Island of Stinky Women.
How did it get that lovely name? Well, a few years earlier, the local women had neglected their worship of Aphrodite. The goddess of love, being the forgiving type, cursed every female in Lemnos with a stench so terrible none of the men could stand to be within fifty feet of them. One of the old Greek writers described it as a ‘noisome smell’, meaning a stink so strong you could hear it. That’s pretty bad.
The women of the island weren’t pleased to be ignored by their husbands. The guys wouldn’t kiss them. They wouldn’t sleep in the same room with them. They spent most of their time at the local pubs, watching sports and drinking beer with clothes pegs over their noses.
Eventually the women got so angry they killed almost every man on Lemnos, because that seemed like the logical thing to do. Only a few escaped to warn the other Greek kingdoms. The Lemnosian women elected a lady named Hypsipile (pronounced Hipsy-Peely) to be their queen.
Ironically, as soon as they killed all the men, the women stopped stinking. By then it was too late. Once news of the massacre got out, no ship would dock at Lemnos. None of the local women knew how to sail, so they were basically marooned on their own island, fated to live out their lives with no chance of having any more kids.
That Aphrodite … what a sweetheart.
The Argonauts knew about Lemnos’s reputation, but they really needed supplies, so they decided to risk it. As soon as they docked, hundreds of good-looking, non-smelly women crowded the pier, yelling, ‘Thank the gods! Men! Please, marry me! Marry me!’
The Argonauts looked at each other like, SWEET!
Even Jason was entranced. Queen Hypsipile welcomed him with a hug and a kiss and a marriage proposal. Within a few days, the Argonauts were living like kings. They’d all picked new wives. Every day the women would fawn over them while the Argonauts got fat and lazy. They totally forgot about their quest.
The only guy who wasn’t delighted was Hercules. He’d been getting the star treatment for years. He wasn’t swayed by a bunch of beautiful groupies. He talked with Atalanta, who was also disgruntled. She hadn’t signed up for this quest just to watch her shipmates act like … well, men.
The Argo’s magical figurehead agreed with them. ‘Gods, I’m so bored! Get the crew back here. We need to leave!’
Hercules and Atalanta called an emergency meet
‘Guys, get your heads in the game!’ Hercules said. ‘You’re not acting like heroes.’
‘I think what Hercules is trying to say,’ offered Atalanta, ‘is that you’re all idiots. We didn’t sail forth from Iolcus so you could laze around Lemnos while beautiful women fed you peeled grapes.’
‘I did!’ said a voice at the back.
‘One more word,’ Hercules growled, ‘and I will introduce your face to my club.’
Jason finally remembered his mission. ‘Hercules is right,’ he said. ‘I allowed myself to get distracted. It won’t happen again. Everybody, say goodbye to your Lemnosian wives. We have to leave immediately!’
The women were sad to see them go, but they didn’t protest. Most of the ladies were expecting babies now, so at least they would have a chance to repopulate their island with little Argonauts and Argonettes.
The lesson of that little adventure? It’s easy to get sidetracked. Comfy sofas, friendly people and good food will always sound more appealing than going on a hard quest. But if you want to get anywhere in life, you need to keep your eyes on the prize – by which I mean the Golden Fleece, not peeled grapes. Although if they offer you cheeseburgers … No, never mind. Let’s move along.
A few weeks later, the Argo sailed into the Hellespont – that long stretch of water between the Aegean and the Black Sea where good old Helle had fallen to her death.
After rowing for days and days, the crew had burned through a lot of food and water, so they needed more supplies. They docked at an island called Bear Mountain, which had a big mountain in the middle shaped like (duh) a bear.
The locals were called the Doliones. They were all descended from Poseidon, so naturally they were cool and awesome. Their king Cyzicus (Sizzy-cus, rhymes with … pretty much nothing) was a young guy about Jason’s age. He’d just got married, and he and his queen were delighted to host a big party for the Argonauts. Everybody had a great time. Jason and Cyzicus exchanged phone numbers and agreed to be BFFs.
‘I’m just glad you’re not pirates!’ said Cyzicus. ‘We get way too many pirates here. But you guys are great. I hope your quest goes well. Just stay away from the other side of the island, okay? It’s not fun over there!’
‘Why?’ asked Jason.
Just then Hercules told a funny joke and everybody started laughing. Cyzicus and Jason forgot what they’d been talking about.
The next morning, the Argonauts had headaches and queasy stomachs from too much partying. They stumbled around like zombies. They managed to set sail, but when they were about three hours from the harbour and almost out of sight of Bear Mountain they realized they’d totally forgotten to stock up on supplies.
‘Send the Boreads back!’ suggested Atalanta. ‘They have wings.’
‘We’re only two guys,’ said Zetes. ‘We can fetch a few items, but supplies for the whole crew? You’ll need to dock for that.’
Orpheus groaned. ‘The docks are all the way back on the western tip of the island. Turning around will take hours. And if we get pulled into another night of partying I’m not sure my internal organs can handle it.’
The other Argonauts muttered in agreement.
Argus the shipwright pointed off the stern. ‘Look, guys, we’re still in sight of the eastern end of the island. I’m sure we can find water and fruit and stuff there. Let’s just anchor off the beach and make a quick run inland. Easy.’
Jason frowned. ‘Cyzicus told me this side of the island wasn’t fun.’
‘What did he mean by that?’ asked Argus.
‘I’m not sure. He warned me not to go there.’ Jason turned to the Argo’s figurehead. ‘What do you think, O magical prow?’
‘Don’t look at me,’ said the prow. ‘I grew up as an oak tree in Dodona. I’ve never been this far from home.’
Hercules grunted. ‘It doesn’t matter. We’re Argonauts! We can handle anything!’
So they weighed anchor and sent a hunting party ashore.
As it turned out, the eastern half of the island was inhabited by Gegenees, which means Earthborn. Imagine hairy nine-foot-tall ogres wearing nothing but loincloths. Imagine them with six muscular arms, three on each side, capable of ripping up trees and hurling massive boulders. Now imagine them with a noisome smell. You’ve got the idea.
Jason led his hunting party into the forest, looking for food and water. They encountered no trouble, but shortly after they left the beach a band of twenty ogres stormed towards their rowboats, determined to smash them and then hurl rocks at the Argo until it sank.
Fortunately, Jason had left Hercules in charge of guarding the boats. The Earthborn roared and waved their clubs. Hercules waved his club and roared right back. The Earthborn threw rocks, which shattered harmlessly against the Nemean lion cloak. Hercules waded into battle, killing most of the ogres. The rest retreated into the forest.
An hour later, Jason and the hunting party came back and found Hercules standing over a pile of six-armed corpses.
‘What the Hades?’ Jason asked.
‘We’d better get back to the ship,’ said Hercules. ‘I have a feeling that the next time these guys attack, it’ll be in greater numbers.’
Right on cue, a chorus of savage howls echoed through the woods, reverberating off the side of Bear Mountain.
‘Back to the ship,’ Jason agreed.
As soon as they set sail, the weather turned nasty. Fog rolled in, reducing visibility to about four inches. The night fell with a new moon, making matters even worse. Argus couldn’t see the stars, leaving him no way to navigate. The Argonauts lit torches, but the flames were swallowed in the mist and darkness.
For us modern folks, it’s hard to imagine how dark it can get without any city lights. I’m from Manhattan. Unless there’s a blackout, the darkest it ever gets is like mellow mood lighting. Back in Ancient Greece, dark meant staring-into-ink-soup dark. The Argo got hopelessly lost.
Even the figurehead hated it. The magical wood kept yelling, ‘I CAN’T SEE! I’M BLIND! OH, GODS, I’M BLIND!’
At last, one of the crew spotted a hazy red glow off the port bow. ‘There! Go that way!’
Usually, fire meant civilization. But, as the ship approached the red glow, the Argonauts weren’t so sure. They heard deep voices shouting from the shore, but the fog muffled the sound so badly it was impossible to tell whether the voices were even human. The ship ran aground on a sandbar. The figurehead yelled, ‘OUCH!’
Missiles rained down around the boat – maybe arrows, or spears, or rocks.
Somebody cried, ‘It’s the Earthborn again!’
The crew panicked. They grabbed their weapons and leaped overboard, wading through the surf to find the enemy. They couldn’t afford to let those ogres destroy their ship.
The battle that followed was absolute chaos. Nobody could see anything. Swords slashed. Argonauts cried out in the blackness. Torches only made the fog hazier and the enemy harder to distinguish.
At last the Argonauts pulled back and formed a makeshift defensive line with their shields along the beach. They waited for an assault, but the enemy seemed to have retreated, too.
Finally the sun rose. The fog burned away, showing the Argonauts the horrible truth. Somehow, the Argo had circled back to the western side of Bear Mountain. Scattered along the beach were dozens of dead Doliones – the same guys the Argonauts had been partying with just the night before. Among the dead was Jason’s BFF, King Cyzicus.
Both sides realized their awful mistake. The Argonauts had thought they were fighting Earthborn. The Doliones thought they were repelling a pirate attack. Jason was devastated that he’d accidentally killed the king. The queen was even more devastated. When she heard the news, she hanged herself.
The two groups tried to forgive each other. They spent several days mourning and burying their dead. The weather cleared, but there were no winds, making it impossible to sail. Finally Jason consulted the ship’s prow.
‘Build a temple
Jason did what the prow suggested. It took several months, but as soon as the temple was complete the winds picked up and the crew sailed away from Bear Mountain.
What’s the moral of that happy adventure? Maybe: Don’t party so hard. Otherwise the guy you’re having wine with tonight might end up trying to kill you in the fog tomorrow night. And the next thing you know, a magical piece of lumber is calling you an idiot.
So far, the Argonauts weren’t feeling very heroic. They’d married some women, killed some friends and got lost. Their next stop didn’t break the losing streak.
In need of fresh water, they anchored off the coast of Anatolia and sent a small party ashore: Hercules, his sidekick, Hylas, and another guy named Polyphemus. (That’s also the name of a Cyclops, but I don’t think this guy was related. At least, I hope not.)
The three Argonauts split up and searched the countryside. Hylas was the first to find water – a nice, clear brook winding through the woods. He was feeling pretty good about himself as he knelt down to fill his empty pithos.
Unfortunately, Hylas was super handsome, and the river was full of naiads. The nature spirits watched him from underwater. Camouflaged in their flowing blue dresses, they were almost invisible.
‘Oh, my gods, he’s cute!’ said one.
‘I saw him first!’ said another.
‘I want to marry him!’ said a third.
Well, you know how it is when you get a bunch of naiads together. They become wild and naughty and giggly. Then they start abducting mortal guys. The three spirits erupted out of the stream, grabbed poor Hylas and dragged him under, forgetting that he needed oxygen to breathe.
Hylas managed one scream. Polyphemus heard it and came running, but by the time he got there Hylas had been swept away downstream. The only things Polyphemus found were pieces of broken water jug and some wet footprints on the rocks, as if there’d been a scuffle.