Read Nobody's Prize Online

Authors: Esther Friesner

Tags: #Young adult fiction, #Social Science, #Mediterranean Region, #Mediterranean Region - History - To 476, #Historical, #Argonauts (Greek mythology), #Helen of Troy (Greek mythology), #Social Issues, #Girls & Women, #Adventure and adventurers, #Juvenile Fiction, #Greek & Roman, #Fairy Tales; Folklore & Mythology, #Jason (Greek mythology), #Fiction, #Mythology; Greek, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Gender Studies, #Sex role, #Folklore & Mythology, #Ancient Civilizations

Nobody's Prize (10 page)

“You go too far, Theban,” Jason said. The flickering firelight turned his face into a mask of barely restrained rage. The crew cheered, sensing a
real
brawl about to happen.

I faded back into the darkness while the crew formed a ring around the two men. No one stopped me. I popped out of the rowdy mob like a pit from a squashed olive and immediately bumped into Milo.

“Your brothers saw you,” he said.

“They saw a
boy,
” I answered with forced calm. “And they’re drunk. They won’t remember
what
they saw, come morning. Milo, listen to me. We have to do something, and do it fast. Jason and Herakles
must not
fight. It’ll be the end of the quest if they do.”

“Then let it end,” Milo said. He seized my arm. I hadn’t realized how strong he’d become.

The cheers from the ring were getting louder. I jerked free of Milo’s grip and raced around the outside of the human barricade, craning my neck for a glimpse of Argus. When I caught sight of the familiar balding, sun-browned head, I plunged deftly back through the mob to his side.

“Stop them, Argus,” I said. “Jason will listen to you.”

“Herakles won’t, so why should I bother?” He was licking his lips in anticipation. “Let Jason take what’s coming to him.”

“Jason didn’t start this.” I spoke rapidly, frantically. “He’s no match for Herakles, and when he falls, he’ll take the
Argo
with him. A leader who’s beaten by one of his own men can’t go on commanding the rest. What happens to a ship without a captain, Argus, or without enough men to sail her safely?”

My words touched the one thing truly important to him. The Colchian strode into the center of the ring and boldly placed himself between Jason and Herakles. “All right, boys, the fun’s over,” he said jovially. “You gave the men a good show, but you don’t want it to be
too
good or they’ll be expecting the same every night.” He clapped them both on the back, then turned to Herakles and added, “Now listen to me, you ungrateful lout, I built the ship that’s hauling your fat behind halfway across the world. What d’you mean, handing out free wine and not offering me a cup? Afraid I’ve tasted too many
good
vintages to stomach the swill they make in Thebes, or are you just stingy?”

“I’ll show you who’s stingy, old man!” Herakles roared. But it was a friendly roar. He grabbed Argus, tossed him over one shoulder, and ran back to his own campfire. Grumbling, some of the Argonauts returned to whatever they’d been doing before they were cheated out of their spectacle. Others took off after the Theban hero, most likely in hopes of getting a little more of his wine for themselves. Jason was left behind. The look of surprise and relief on his face was comical, though I didn’t waste time laughing. I hurried back to Milo.

Hylas was with him. “Well,
that
was luck,” the handsome weapons bearer said. “Good thing Herakles didn’t have his heart set on fighting Jason. When he wants something, he’s not so easily distracted.”

“That had nothing to do with luck,” Milo responded proudly. “That was Glaucus’s doing. He went to Argus.”


Starting
the fight was his doing, too,” Hylas said. He sounded serious.

“Me? What did I do?” I demanded. “I was minding my own business when Herakles—”

“He’s everywhere that you are, lately.” Hylas gave me a shockingly frosty look. “He follows you like a bee follows honey.”

“You’re imagining things.” I did my best to sound casual. “Herakles is a great hero, but he’s still a man. He gets as bored as the rest of us. If he is dogging me, it’s only to have something to do.”

Hylas didn’t seem reassured.
Why are you so unhappy?
I wondered.

“Don’t worry, Hylas.” Milo spoke up. “Even if it’s not boredom making Herakles act this way, where’s the harm? Glaucus isn’t interested.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Hylas replied. “When Herakles wants something, he doesn’t stop until he gets it.” He left us without another word.

“Poor Hylas,” Milo said. “He’s in a bad way.”

“I wish he wouldn’t worry about me so much,” I said. “How can I convince him that Herakles is
not
going to get what he wants this time?”

“You think
that’s
what’s troubling him?” Milo’s voice rose sharply. “You mean you don’t
know
?”

“Know what? That Herakles is after me and Hylas is afraid I’ll be hurt?”

Milo shook his head. “The only person Herakles has hurt by chasing you is Hylas.”

“He—What?” My cheeks tingled as though I’d been slapped. I wasn’t shocked to learn that Hylas loved Herakles, and Herakles had certainly made it plain that he found other men attractive. The gods themselves were known to do so. There were many tales of how Apollo, Poseidon, and Zeus himself all had become infatuated with beautiful mortal youths. What shook me was how blind I’d been to something that was right before my eyes.

Only because you chose to be blind,
I told myself.
Because you’d rather stay blind than let go of your romantic dreams.
Suddenly I felt like a complete fool. I squeezed my eyes shut.
I won’t cry,
I thought.
I refuse to cry.

“Lady Helen…” Milo spoke my real name so softly that there was no danger at all of anyone hearing it but me. “Lady Helen, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” My voice was a ragged whisper. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry for—for not being a better friend. I could have said something to you about Hylas before, but I didn’t, because I envied—”

I silenced him by laying a finger to my own lips. “Instead of an apology, share a promise with me: that from now on, we
will
be the friends we ought to be.”

“‘Friends’?” He smiled sadly, but he gave his word before the gods.

         

The next morning, the
Argo
set sail amid a chorus of moans and groans from the men who’d shared Herakles’ hospitality. I was in my usual place, aft of the mast. I couldn’t see how badly my brothers were suffering because of their spree, but I could imagine their pitiful condition after all that unwatered wine.

The crew was in such a sorry state that Argus persuaded Jason to make for land at noontime to give them a rest. They had their conversation by the ship’s steering oar, so I heard most of it.

We landed on a small, lovely island with tall cliffs rising behind a narrow arc of beach. Since we weren’t going to spend too long there, we left the
Argo
afloat and waded to shore. Everyone sought the shade cast by the rocks and the wind-twisted trees bordering the beach. Some of the men went right to sleep, and others tried to wash the wine out of their brains by dunking themselves in the cool shallows. Herakles strutted up and down the strand, taunting everyone he saw.

“What’s wrong, Kalais? Wine and wind don’t mix? Hey, Lynceus, how sharp’s your sight
now
? Nephew! Yes,
you,
Iolaus! Where’s the sour fig you’ve been nibbling? If you drank straight wine like a man, you wouldn’t be looking down your nose at the rest of us; you’d be trying to keep your own head from falling off! Haw!”

Then he caught sight of me. I was lying down in the shade of a pine tree, far from my brothers, nursing a sore stomach. I didn’t know what I’d eaten to cause such a bellyache. It had come over me out of nowhere and made me testy. Milo and Hylas were sitting nearby, playing a game of knucklebones. They’d invited me to join them and I’d snapped at them to leave me alone. When I noticed Herakles heading for me, I was in no mood for any of his antics. I got up and tried to evade him by stepping into the trees, but he was too fast.

“Where d’you think you’re going, lad?” He caught up with me in the shadows of the beachside grove and snagged the back of my tunic. “If you’ve got the energy for a hike, maybe you’d like to put it to better use. Tell you what, let’s go find a place where none of these fume-headed fools will bother us, and I’ll teach you how a real warrior uses his blade.”

I tugged my tunic out of his hand and eyed him stonily. “My own master teaches me all I need to know, thank you.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Herakles grinned. “Don’t frown, Glaucus. The gods will weep if you crease that sweet face with wrinkles. Come on, I’ll teach you how to use a club like mine. It’s a surprisingly handy weapon, and one I know Iolaus never mastered.”

“What else will you teach him?” Hylas appeared from between the pines. He turned a cheerless face to me and added, “Why don’t you look happy, Glaucus? It’s not every young man who steals a hero’s heart.” With that he spun on his heel and fled into the trees.

I bolted after him, leaving Herakles calling after the two of us. Hylas and I had the advantage in that race. The trees grew close together, making it easier for us to slip through them than for the broad-shouldered Theban. I saw a clearly marked trail where my friend had broken the thinner pine boughs. It led upward, a steep route that finally ended at the very top of the island.

I emerged into the clearing at the rocky summit and found Hylas kneeling beside a pool of water fed by a bubbling spring. I came closer and saw that the fresh water welled up very near the edge of the cliffs on the island’s far side. A glance over the crag showed no narrow curve of beach below, no sign of the
Argo
or her crew. The straight drop down was raw rock, the handiwork of Poseidon when the sea lord earned his title Earthshaker.

“Hylas,” I said quietly, not wanting to startle him so close to the precipice.

His eyes were wet. “What do you want?”

“I
don’t
want Herakles,” I said. I heard the noise of the Theban hero’s pursuit drawing nearer. It sounded like he was tearing down half the forest. I had to speak quickly to have my say before he reached us. “And if he wants Glaucus, he wants a ghost. I’m not what he thinks I am. My name is Helen.”

Hylas’s perfect mouth fell open. “You’re a girl?” He leaped up, grabbed my arms, and stared at me from head to heels, as if seeing me for the first time. “Why tell me this?”

“Because I trust you,” I said. “And because I want you to know there’s no way I would ever take Herakles from you, even if I could. Hylas, can we
please
step away from this spring? The ground’s slippery, and it’s too near—”

He wasn’t listening. “But why are you here, on the quest for the Fleece? Is Milo your lover? Are you both running away from—?”

“There you are!”
Herakles was out of the forest and upon us with astonishing speed. Hylas gasped and let go of me, then took a step back, into the spring. His foot slipped on a moss-covered rock. One moment he was beside me, the next he was plunging down the cliff face to the wave-beaten rocks below.

It was over in a lightning strike. I couldn’t even call out his name. It was all I could do to keep my own balance when Herakles shoved me aside to stare aghast into the churning sea. “Where is he?” he howled at the waves, the wind, the sun. “Where is Hylas?”

I ached, speechless with grief. I wanted to say something to comfort him, but I couldn’t find the words. It hurt too much to speak my lost friend’s name. I admit I was also afraid. Herakles’ face was twisted with anguish, and when he abruptly turned to confront me, his eyes burned with a beast’s unreasoning rage.

“Where is he?” Herakles repeated. There were little flecks of white at the corners of his mouth. “What did you do with him?”

“I—I didn’t—” I forced myself to breathe and cautiously reached for my sword. “You saw what happened, how he stepped into the water and—”

“—they stole him.” Herakles’ voice dropped to an awestruck whisper. His gaze wandered back to the spring. “They saw how beautiful he was, and they stole him from me.” Without warning, he pushed past me, fell to his hands and knees, and began roaring at the water, “Give him back! Give him back to me!” He was still shouting his insane demands and beating the surface of the pool into foam with his fists when I turned and ran back down the trackless hillside to the beach.

I was sobbing when I got to the shore. Milo was the first to reach me, followed closely by Argus, but I felt too wretched to speak to them. Jason and the rest of the
Argo
’s crew gathered around us to learn what was wrong. Tears blinded me. I didn’t care that my brothers were standing right there, getting a long, close look at me through sober eyes. Iolaus offered me a filled water-skin. I took a deep drink, then choked out an account of what had happened. When I finished, I waited for Jason to give the order for a search party to climb back to the top of the island and fetch Herakles.

I waited for nothing. “We’re leaving,” Jason said. “Now.”

“Leave now?” Iolaus echoed. “You’re joking! Abandon my uncle, the best warrior we’ve got? You’re crazy!”

“I’m not,” Jason replied evenly. “He is.” His gaze swept over the massed crew. “We all know that this isn’t the first time Herakles has lost his mind. The same singers who carry the stories of his exploits also tell about how Hera struck him with such an awful attack of madness that when it finally lifted, he found he’d slaughtered his own wife and children.”

I was horrified to hear this, and more so when I looked at Iolaus’s grim expression and understood it was true. It was old news to all the others, who stood muttering hasty prayers for the gods to keep such dire things far from their own lives.

“Men, I can’t deny Herakles’ strength any more than I can deny his insanity,” Jason went on, his voice smooth as newly churned butter. “He may be a great hero, but I say that so are all of you. I refuse to risk your lives by sending you after him. He’s Zeus’s son. Once the madness leaves him, he’ll find his own way home.”

Flattered, the others were eager to agree with Jason’s plan. Iolaus was not. “You’re dropping flowers on a dunghill, Jason, and you know it. The only reason you’re marooning my uncle here is revenge. You can’t forgive him for hurting your precious pride last night!”

Jason’s lips curved into the smallest sliver of a smile. “Stay with him if you like, Iolaus, you and your servants. I won’t stop you.”

“I’ll stay and look after my uncle until he’s well again,” Iolaus answered. “I won’t ask that of the boys.”

Other books

The Art of Dreaming by Carlos Castaneda
The Spanish Hawk (1969) by Pattinson, James
Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) by Wayland, Samantha
The Alpine Uproar by Mary Daheim
Metal Emissary by Chris Paton
Shine by Jeri Smith-Ready
Pasado Perfecto by Leonardo Padura


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024