 
### The Twelve Labours of Hercules

Copyright 2015 Joe Corcoran

Published by Joe Corcoran at Smashwords

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Table of Contents

The Giants' Revolt

The Madness of Hercules

The First Challenge: The Nemean Lion

The Second Challenge: The Lernaean Hydra

The Third Challenge: The Ceryneian Hind

The Fourth Challenge: The Erymanthian Boar

The Fifth Challenge: The Stables of Augeias

The Sixth Challenge: The Stymphalian Birds

The Seventh Challenge: The Cretan Bull

The Eighth Challenge: The Mares of Diomedes

The Ninth Challenge: Hippolyte's Girdle

The Tenth Challenge: The Cattle of Geryon

The Eleventh Challenge: The Apple of the Hesperides

The Twelfth Challenge: Cerberus

An Apology To Scholars

About The Author

The Giants' Revolt

On top of Mount Olympus sits the beautiful palace of the gods of Ancient Greece. The slender columns that reach high into the sky are made of the finest, whitest marble. On a sunny day, they shine so brightly that any man who dared approach would be dazzled by their beauty. This day, however, they reflected nothing but the blood red light of countless fires. The smell of smoke invaded every room in the palace, and the sounds of battle echoed through the great halls. The palace of the gods was under siege. An army of giants was attacking, and looking up from where he stood on the mountainside, Hercules made a silent vow that he would not let this beautiful building fall to such barbarians. Squaring his shoulders, he started downwards - calculating where best to join the fight. He saw Zeus, the leader of the gods, knock down one of the attacking giants with a thunderbolt. Zeus' brothers, Hades and Poseidon, lords of the underworld and the sea, fought back to back - together keeping four more giants at bay. Artemis, the huntress, ran lightly over the rocks, skewering another giant with no less than five arrows. The gods did not lack in skill, strength or courage, but they were still losing this battle. The problem was that these were magical giants, protected by a sacred prophesy, and they simply could not be killed.

The giants came from a time long before the age of man - and even before the gods. In those days a different kind of being, the Titans, ruled the universe. Although some of the Titans were noble and just, their ruler, Cronus, was nothing but evil. It was even said that he ate his own children. Zeus and his brothers defeated Cronus, but with his dying breath, the king of the Titans set a terrible curse on them.

"The giants shall rise and destroy you, Zeus, and all your brothers," he said, "Even with all your might combined, you will not be able to stop them. They will have only one weakness, and you will never find it. I also make this unbreakable prophesy. It will take the strength of a god to defeat the giants, but only one with the heart of a man can conquer them."

Zeus did the only thing that he could, faced with this prophesy that foretold his certain death, he cheated. In disguise, he made his way to the palace of the king and queen of Thebes, one of the great cities of Ancient Greece. On the very night he arrived, the queen gave birth. A prince, it was said, who would be heir to his father's throne. Waiting until the celebrations had died down and the palace was quiet, Zeus crept into the nursery. To his dismay, he found that there was not one, but two babies. Both baby boys. How would he decide between the two? Which one would grow up to be his champion? While he was stood looking in confusion from one cradle to the other, there was a noise from outside – a crow cawing in the night. The babies woke, and while one set up a wailing fit to wake the palace, the other smiled at Zeus and reached out his little arms towards the god. This was enough. Moving quickly but calmly, Zeus placed his hand on the baby's head and chanted several powerful spells. Then he fed to the baby a spoonful of ambrosia, the special food of the gods. By the time the nurse, woken by the wailing, had entered the nursery, Zeus had disappeared out of the window and was on his way back to Olympus.

Hercules was the son of a king and queen, raised as a prince and trained to rule over the people when the time came for him to take the throne, but Zeus also looked on him as a son, watched over him and visited often – always in disguise. By the time news of the giants' revolt reached the palace high on Olympus, Hercules had grown into a fine young man, skilled in the use of all the weapons of war – especially the bow – but equally at home plucking the strings of a lyre. It was true that some found him proud, with a quick temper that often burst like a storm over some unlucky servant, but he was a prince – this kind of behaviour was to be expected. Naturally, the young Hercules felt himself destined for greater things than merely ruling a Greek city state. So, when Zeus finally revealed himself and asked for help in defeating the giants, Hercules did not think to consider himself lucky to have been chosen. Rather he considered that this was the natural order of things – that it was inevitable.

During the years of Hercules' childhood, Zeus had not been idle. Cronos had mentioned that the giants would have only one weakness, so Zeus had searched far and wide for anyone who might know what this was. Finally, from the far north, whispered stories came to Zeus' ear. Stories about a special herb that, used in the right way, would stop the giants in their tracks. He dispatched sharp-eyed eagles, swift winged swallows and birds of all types to search the air and the earth for any sign of this herb. Poseidon sent his subjects to search all the corners of his kingdom under the waves, and Hades released the demons of Tartarus to travel all the passageways of the underworld. All this activity brought no result, and the giants came ever closer to Olympus. When it became clear that the mountain would soon be surrounded, Zeus knew he must fetch Hercules, his champion, before it was too late. When they returned together to Olympus, there was no word – the herb had not been found – and the giants were approaching.

Zeus and Hercules entered the palace just as Ares, the god of war, was addressing the other gods, who had gathered in a disorderly council.

"The enemy is at our walls," he said, "Even now they gather on the hilltops around, preparing to hurl fire and rock against us. We must go out to meet them in battle."

Now he drew his sword and raised his shield, his voice ringing in the large hall.

"Let us show these giants what it is to suffer the anger of the gods!"

Hercules was greatly impressed by this speech and by the fine figure of Ares in his full battle armour. Zeus, however, had a wiser head on his shoulders.

"The giants cannot hurt us with their sticks and stones," said Zeus, "you will see that the walls of Olympus are stronger than they look. Yet, as we stand today, we cannot harm the giants. We have one half of the cure, but not the other."

Now all eyes were on Hercules. He was no stranger to the members of the council, they had each visited him many times during his childhood with lessons, or help in time of need. Now, each of them hoped that they had done enough to prepare this man for the superhuman task he must perform. Hercules, for his part, showed no surprise at seeing childhood teachers and friends now revealed as gods – for, of course, they had always made their visits to him in disguise. He simply unslung his bow and his club, and prepare to speak.

"Even though we do not have the herb," he said, addressing the room, "I cannot believe that such a company as this will ever know defeat, but if I am wrong, I can think of no greater honour than to fight and die as one of your number."

The gods cheered this noble speech, raising such a noise that no-one noticed the eagle until it landed on Zeus' arm.

So it was that Hercules was sent to harvest the herb. Hermes, the messenger of the gods, lent him winged sandals, so that he could fly. Then, the eagle guided him to the desolate island where the herb grew. There was such a small amount, but Hercules harvested every last morsel, before heading back. Although it seemed to Hercules that he had not been away for long, when he returned to Olympus the situation had changed dramatically for the worse. So, he was faced with his choice – where to join the fight. How to help the gods, who were slowly but surely being pressed back towards their palace, and how to use the herb.

First he tried rubbing the herb on his weapons, but although he scored many direct hits on the giants, any he knocked down were soon up again to rejoin the fight. After this, he tried everything else he could think of. He rubbed the herb on himself, on the giants and on one or two of the gods. No effect. He tried chewing a tiny piece, then he knocked down a giant and put some in its mouth. Nothing. He even tried wearing some in his hair. The only thing that changed was that he had less and less of the precious herb left, and there was no way to get more. His patience was exhausted. The gods were fighting in a tight ring around the top of Mount Olympus, and they were tiring. Hercules saw Ares smashed to the ground by one giant, barely scrambling away in time to avoid its clutches. He glowered at a piece of the herb, which he held between his thumb and forefinger, as if it were deliberately trying to trick him.

"What use are you?" he shouted at the small green stalk, "Why was I sent to the ends of the earth for you when you do nothing?"

As Hercules shouted, his knuckles grew white and his hand shook as his tremendous strength was applied to this one tiny thing he held. It was too much, and with a popping sound that seemed too loud for the size of the leaf, the herb was crushed to dust. Hercules recoiled as a thin trail of smoke curled up from between his fingers, where the herb had been moments earlier. Even at arm's length, the smell of this was overpowering. Hercules felt his head spin and his limbs lock in place. Clamping his mouth shut, he held his breath, watching the smoke waver and dissolve into the air. Now he knew the secret, but there was so little of the herb left – he wondered if it would be enough.

The sound of cruel laughter from nearby made him put these thoughts aside. One of the giants had grabbed the goddess Athene and was crushing her in a bear hug. The other gods would have rushed to her aid, but they were too busy fighting for their own lives. Hercules realised that this was now down to him, that he would have to beat this giant – and many more like it – but not a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. He raced over and, jumping high into the air, landed a terrific blow on the side of the giant's head. Surprised and dizzy, the giant dropped Athene, who fell to the ground and stood gasping for breath. Now Hercules swept his club at the giant's legs, catching it just above the ankles and sending it crashing to the ground. Running up the giant's body, Hercules grasped a morsel of the herb, as before, between his thumb and forefinger. With all his might he squeezed, popping the herb right under the giant's nose, while being careful to hold his own breath. The giant's face registered a moment of surprise, then of disgust at the vile stench, then it froze. A milky greyness flowed along its enormous body, from the head to the toes and fingers. When it was finished, Hercules found himself standing, not on a giant, but on a piece of rock. The giant had been turned to stone and would, now and forever, be a part of the mountain.

Athene, who had seen the transformation, directed Hercules to other parts of the fight. One by one, and working with the other gods and goddesses, they disabled the giants long enough for Hercules to use the herb and turn them to stone. With each giant that was defeated the work grew easier, until all the gods together faced just one remaining enemy, the leader of the giants – Alcyoneus. Although he was outnumbered, he was in no mood to give in. Twice as big as any of the other giants, Alcyoneus fought ferociously - sometimes even driving the gods back. Finally Hercules and Artemis, working together, pinned him down with a shower of arrows. Then Zeus blasted Alcyoneus to the ground with a thunderbolt. Victory in sight, Hercules ran up to the giant's huge head and... nothing. The herb had run out. There was none left, and now there was no way on earth to defeat Alcyoneus.

Working quickly, before the giant could regain his strength, the gods brought heaps and coils of strong chains, wrapping him tightly so that he could not move. Even so, when Alcyoneus awoke, he strained so hard that the metal groaned and some of the links began to bend. The gods stepped back from the writhing mass, readying their weapons. They looked determined enough, but Hercules could see fear in some of the eyes – here was something that the gods themselves could not defeat. Zeus, however, showed no fear, and he had a plan.

"Hephaestus!" he called, and one of the gods stepped forwards. By his appearance, you would have thought little of him. His legs were crooked, and he walked with difficulty. His clothes were shabby, showing burns and singe marks all over. Only his arms looked like they had any strength to them. His arms... and his eyes, which glowed with intelligence, as if they carried in them the very fire from the forges that he loved so much. For Hephaestus was a blacksmith and a worker of metal as skilled as any the world will ever see.

"Hephaestus," said Zeus again, "we need stronger chains, and quickly. Go to your forge with all speed, and take Hercules. His strength will be needed on the bellows – your fire will have to be at its hottest."

Then Zeus turned to address the other gods, his voice booming across the mountainside.

"There is a rock at the very centre of the earth, sunk deep in the roots of the world. We will take this giant there and imprison him, in chains, forever. Come, help me carry him."

While the rest of the gods heaved, dragged and carried the struggling Alcyoneus down into the deepest parts of the earth, Hephaestus led Hercules back to the palace on Olympus, through the grand and elegant rooms and on, until he was greeted by a most unexpected sight. There, in the middle of the palace, was the most amazing workshop, and at its heart, the largest forge Hercules had ever seen. The walls were lined with every kind of tool imaginable, from the very largest hammers to the very smallest tweezers. Indeed, some of the tools looked so small that you would need other tools to use them. Hercules was thinking about what marvellous constructions could be made in a workshop like this, when with a whirring and clanking noise, two golden figures appeared. They stopped in front of Hephaestus and bowed.

"Master, we are ready to assist you," they said, speaking together as if they were one being with two bodies.

"We need chains," said Hephaestus, without so much as a 'hello' or a 'please', "they must be the strongest I have ever made," then he thought for a second, "and we will need spikes. Spikes that can be driven into the hardest rock and there be capable of holding fast for eternity."

The two golden people began to move around the workshop, preparing everything that was needed at great speed and with never a word between them.

"You," Hephaestus now turned to Hercules, "get on that bellows. You need to keep pumping until the fire is white hot."

Hercules stood his ground.

"I am not one of your slaves to be ordered about in such a manner," he growled.

Hephaestus gave him a hard look, and the two locked eyes for what seemed like minutes – certainly enough time for Hercules to remember that he was talking to a god. Finally Hephaestus gave a small laugh, like a cough.

"Very well, brother Hercules," he said, most courteously, "please would you man the bellows, and, if we work together well, then we may forge these new chains in time to save the rest of our family from destruction by that unstoppable giant."

Hercules felt the sting in these words, but also the honey. Now his mind turned as he pulled on the bellows – 'brother', Hephaestus had said and 'family'. Was he part of the family of the gods? Was he a son of Zeus?

Such thoughts, however, were soon driven out of his mind by sheer exhaustion, because for the next few hours, Hercules worked harder than he had ever done before. The bellows felt light enough, when he first pulled down the enormous handle - driving air into the heart of the forge and making the fire crackle with life - but within an hour, the repetition felt like torture. To make the fire hot enough, Hephaestus had explained, the flow of air must be fast, even and constant. He had made Hercules chant these words to the rhythm of his work, so that the man would become as mechanical and regular in his movements as the golden figures. Hercules watched them buzz around the workshop, as he pulled on the bellows and repeated the words.

'Fast' – heave.

'Even' – heave.

'Constant' – heave.

"That's right, that's it!" shouted Hephaestus. Now his face was lit by the brightening fire, he looked just like a demon escaped from the Underworld, "Another hour like that and it should be hot enough."

Hercules doubted that he could keep going for more than a minute. He longed to stop this tedious work, which was more suited to a slave than a prince. Then he remembered that Zeus himself had set this task. Surely, if he were successful in this difficult work, on top of everything else he had done that day, surely such exceptional service would be worthy of an exceptional reward. So Hercules kept on until the pain that burned through his arms with every heave on the bellows felt as though it would shatter his whole body and the air in the workshop grew almost too hot to breathe. Then, suddenly, it was over. Hercules did not know how it had been done, but both chains and spikes were finished. If he thought he could rest, however, he was sorely mistaken.

"You must take these chains to the centre of the earth," said Hephaestus, indicating the still cooling pile of metal links, "and the spikes too... and my largest hammer."

Hercules despaired of being able to carry such a load, and his anger rose up inside him. Then he thought of the great reward he would be due for all his efforts and managed to control himself. There was one point, however, that Hercules could not resist making.

"And you," he sneered at Hephaestus, "will you be taking your leisure here in the palace whilst I do all the work?"

The god of the forge made no reply. He simply gave Hercules a weary look, as if he were quite used to such cruel words. Now Hercules looked at Hephaestus properly for the first time. They had both been working hard for hours, but Hephaestus had been in front of the forge, facing the full heat of the fire. His face was blackened and his hair singed. His body looked as wilted as an un-watered plant. At some point he had changed from his robes into a tough leather apron, for protection against flying sparks, so now his legs were bare. Hercules saw that they were all twisted and mangled. The only thing that allowed Hephaestus to stand at all was a mechanism of golden rods, attached to the damaged limbs at ankle, knee and hip. Hercules lowered his eyes, but could not bring himself to apologise.

"You would only slow me down," he muttered, trudging over to gather the chains, stakes and hammer. Then a thought struck him.

"How am I to find the way?" he asked Hephaestus.

"Only a few hours ago, the gods of Olympus dragged a struggling giant along the path," Hephaestus answered, "just keep heading downwards, and follow the signs of mayhem."

Sure enough, the trail was as easy to follow as that of a herd of stampeding elephants, and Hercules was soon heading down through the dark ways that still survive deep underneath the surface of the earth – going deeper even than the realm of Hades. The path was long, difficult and treacherous, but Hercules had some help. Firstly, the chains made by Hephaestus gave off a ghostly light - evidence of their magical nature – making it possible to see in the underground darkness. Secondly, he still wore the winged sandals of Hermes. Although he could not fly with his heavy load, the sandals at least gave speed to his feet and, when once or twice a chasm blocked the path, they allowed him to leap surprising distances. It was, therefore, not long after the gods had arrived that Hercules reached the centre of the earth.

Hercules immediately saw the good sense of Zeus's plan. The rock that stood here was enormous, dwarfing the group of gods and even the mighty figure of Alcyoneus – who lay on the ground, still wrapped in his chains like a caterpillar in its cocoon. Furthermore, the rock was rooted and pressed in on all sides by the earth itself. Anyone who would move this rock would have to have the strength to move the whole world.

"Hercules," called Zeus, seeing him approach, "you have brought the chains. Good. Now we must secure them to the rock, ready to imprison the giant. We need them here, here and here to hold his legs, arms and head. Ares, come and exercise your sword arm by hammering in this spike."

Ares lifted the hammer, swung it in an easy arc and struck an enormous blow to the head of the spike. The metal quivered and sang, but it did not penetrate the rock – not by the tiniest amount. Ares tried two more times, then threw the hammer to the ground in disgust. All the other gods then took their turn to try and hammer in the spikes, but none was successful - not even Zeus himself. Hades failed right at the start, being unable to lift the hammer, and he shot a furious look at Hercules, who was laughing behind his hand. As the Lord of the Underworld passed by Hercules, he hissed in his ear.

"You may be the favourite now, but remember that you are mortal - one day you will die. When that day comes your spirit will travel to my realm, and you will be in my power. So, enjoy your laughter. I will pay you back for it soon enough."

The sound of that evil, ghostly voice chilled Hercules as much as the words themselves, and he shivered as he stepped forward to try his strength against the spikes and rock. He knew that he would not fail. He felt invincible, and he was not going to be put off by some weakling like Hades. He lifted the hammer and swung it, two handed, at the spike. It made a whooshing sound as it cut through the air, then a clang as it hit the spike, which sank into the rock amid the cheering of the gods. To Hercules it had felt wrong. The spike had gone in as though the rock was butter, and he wondered if it would really hold firm. He gave it a pull, then a heave, but the spike was fixed firmly. If he could get a few more in like that, then no power on earth would dislodge them.

It was a difficult job to bring Alcyoneus to the rock and to chain him there. More than once, he threatened to break free, and all the gods together were needed to restrain him, but there was never any doubt about how it would end. The leader of the giants was chained at the centre of the earth, and the gods prepared to return, in victory, to Olympus. If only they had returned straight away, and if only Hercules had returned immediately to Thebes, then the rest of this story would not need telling, but Hercules was greedy for his reward.

"Father Zeus," he called out, a crafty glint in his eye, "I know that many call you 'father', but it seems now – after our great adventure together - to have more meaning to me than ever before. Even when you visited me in disguise, I felt a special love for you, and now I know why."

Here, Hercules paused and dropped his head, shaking it sadly.

"I only wish," he continued, "that I could serve you, as your devoted champion, forever."

Hades stared daggers at Hercules when he spoke these words, knowing very well that he was only looking for a reward, but Zeus was delighted to be addressed in this way by the hero of the hour.

"Do not be sad, my son," replied the ruler of the gods, "for you shall have your wish, but not as a simple champion. You shall call me father, and I shall call you son, and you shall have your own place in the great banqueting hall of Olympus."

Now as he spoke these words, Zeus seemed to see the spikes that held Alcyoneus shiver in the rock, and the voice of Cronus seemed to sound in his ears: 'Only one with the heart of a man can conquer the giants'. Seeing that his hasty words might have broken the prophesy, Zeus thought quickly. He had made a promise to Hercules, but Hercules would still have to live and die as a man – with the heart of a man.

"I ask only one thing from you, before you ascend to Olympus," Zeus added quickly. Hercules nodded eagerly, so Zeus continued, "Return to the world of men and live your mortal life in such a way as will bring glory to my name. When your mortal part is dead, then I will lift you up as a god."

Even though he would have to wait for his reward, to be made a god was more than Hercules could have expected in his wildest dreams. He knelt before Zeus and pledged his eternal loyalty. Zeus, in his turn, was touched by the devotion of his new son and congratulated himself on having chosen the right baby – all those years ago. The only one who did not join the celebrations was Hades. He slunk back to his underground palace, muttering foul curses and plotting his revenge on the upstart Hercules.
The Madness of Hercules

Hercules returned triumphant from his adventures with Zeus and their defeat of the giants. Everything might still have been alright if only Hercules had been wise and humble, but instead he was boastful and proud. Because he would one day be a god, he thought that he was better than everyone else and destined to be king of the world. This was confirmed, as far as Hercules was concerned, when he was made King of Thebes. He went to war with his neighbours again and again, creating a huge empire, but causing great suffering in the process. He sat in his palace in Thebes, his capital city, and plotted ever larger conquests.

As time went by, Hercules began to think of himself more and more as a god and less and less as a man. He started to be suspicious of everyone around him, even his own family. Then, one night, a terrible madness came over him. He dreamt that he was Cronos, king of the Titans. He believed that his own children were plotting to kill him and take his throne. With all reason gone, Hercules took his sword and hunted through the palace for his twelve sons. Warned by their mother, the boys ran or hid, as best they were able, while Hercules stalked the corridors, intent on their murder. The eleven older boys were fast or crafty enough to avoid their father, but the youngest didn't realise the terrible danger. With a smile on his face and his little arms open wide he walked towards his beloved father, blind to the murderous look that was in those familiar eyes. Hercules raised his sword to strike down his son, but before he could deal the fatal blow there was a terrible earthquake that knocked him off his feet and almost brought the palace tumbling down. Now Hercules regained his senses. He remembered what he was about to do and threw his sword to the ground. Overcome with remorse for his crimes, he left the palace, his city and his empire, and wandered into the wilderness with only an old lion skin cloak to cover him.

For almost a year Hercules wandered alone, trying to understand what had happened to him. He had had everything, but he had been foolish and had lost it all. Now the idea of becoming a god seemed like a curse, endless years in which to regret what he had done and to torture himself with thoughts of how easily he could have kept the things that he had lost. After suffering much hardship, and spending weeks alone with his thoughts, Hercules realised that his new life was all that he deserved. In fact, he decided, it was better than he deserved, and he should never hope for anything more. The next day, as soon as he was awake, he decided that he would devote the rest of his life to good deeds. Immediately he felt better and set off with a new purpose. Before long he met an old woman sitting by the road and rubbing her feet.

"Young man," she said, "please let me travel with you. These roads are dangerous and travelling together would be safer, even with a companion as thin and weak as you."

Hercules' brow creased with anger and his eyes flashed fire. 'How dare you!' he was about to shout, 'I am Hercules, immortal hero, saviour of the gods and scourge of the giants.' But then he remembered his new resolution to do good deeds and all he said was, "Very well, let us travel together."

An hour later they had not gone very far. The old woman went slowly , needed frequent rests and talked constantly.

"Old woman," said Hercules at last, struggling to control his impatience, "we'll never get anywhere at this rate. Can you go no faster?"

"I could go as quickly as you," said the old woman, "if you would carry me on your back."

Hercules agreed, thinking it would be easy to carry a little old lady, but the woman was surprisingly heavy and her sharp knees and elbows dug into him, so that after only a few minutes his sides were bruised and sore. Anyone else could not have carried her for long, but Hercules was strong, determined and quite used to physical discomfort. Most importantly they were now travelling at a better speed, and after a few more minutes, Hercules relaxed enough to start chatting to the woman. By evening he found that he had told the stranger on his back almost everything about himself and the terrible things he had done.

"It sounds like you behaved very poorly," said the old woman, once they had stopped for the night and pitched camp.

Hercules could only nod agreement then said, "I'd do anything if only I could make up for a small part of what I've done wrong."

That night Hercules had strange and terrible dreams. He dreamt that the leader of the giants, Alcyoneus, had broken his bonds and was even now heading back to the surface of the world. Then a stillness came over his dreams and the great god Zeus appeared to Hercules.

"My son," said Zeus, "it was foretold that a mortal man would defeat the giants. Now that prophesy hangs in the balance, and Alcyoneus fights to free himself from his chains. Only you can put this right. I cannot help you, but I can tell you how you can help yourself. You must go to Troezen and offer yourself as a servant to Pittheus, the philosopher king. You will serve him for a year and a day, and he will give you twelve challenges. If you complete the challenges in the time given then the prophesy will be fulfilled and the world will be saved. If you fail, or the year and the day run out, then Alcyoneus will break free from his chains. He will destroy the gods and leave the earth in ruins."

Hercules was woken by the old woman prodding him in the stomach with a bony finger.

"Wake up lazy," she said, "I've been up for hours, and I've got a fire going already. Do you think you're good enough with that bow to get us something for breakfast?"

Hercules had to count to ten in order to keep his temper. 'Don't you know that I am the greatest archer in the world?' he wanted to snap back, but instead he simply nodded, picked up his bow, and headed for a nearby wood.

"And don't be long," shouted the old woman after him, "I want to be in Troezen by nightfall."

Of course Hercules was not long, and he was so impatient to begin his challenges that he ran all the way to Troezen with the old woman on his back. When they arrived he bid her goodbye and hurried to present himself at the palace. There he begged for an audience with Pittheus, saying that Hercules had come to offer his services to the king. But two guards on horses blocked his way at the palace gate. They didn't seem to believe him.

"Hercules? A likely story! No-one has seen him for over a year. They say he's gone mad or been killed. Probably you're a trickster dressed up in a stolen lion skin, intending to steal money from our kind king."

"Could a trickster do this?" asked Hercules, and he lifted both horses clean off the ground, riders and all. The guards faces were very pale, and they were a lot more polite when Hercules put them down. One of them dismounted, bowed and disappeared into the palace, only to return a few minutes later, asking Hercules to follow him inside.

Through many rooms, courtyards and gardens they passed. Each one made Hercules think how wise, generous and gifted this philosopher king must be. Here, there was a group of wise men, sitting by a fountain, discussing what power kept clouds floating in the sky. Next, a room made entirely of mirrors, so that one candle lit it as brightly as a summer's day. Then, a room turned into a hospital for the town's sick children. After that, a group of warriors, arguing fiercely over the best length for a sword. They fell silent as Hercules passed, eyeing his lion skin cloak with suspicion and awe.

"A short sword, for a soldier fighting in formation," said Hercules, without pausing or looking towards them, "a long sword for a hero fighting alone."

As soon as he left the room he heard the argument break out again, the voices louder than before, as they debated his statement. Soon the noise was left behind, and Hercules was led into a comfortable room containing soft cushions, a table heaped with food and a large bath. What fixed Hercules' attention, however, was the old woman sitting in a corner of the room with a glass of wine in one hand and a chunk of bread in the other.

"You!" thundered Hercules, "What are you doing here?"

But when the old lady spoke it was with quite a different voice from the one Hercules remembered.

"I do apologise for this trickery," said the woman, but now in the voice of a gentleman, "but it was necessary for a greater purpose."

Slowly she peeled off a false nose, then lifted off a wig, and before long Hercules was staring at the face of King Pittheus himself, who now continued to explain:

"You see, I prayed to Zeus for a hero to help me with a certain problem. He then appeared to me in a dream and told me that, if I went out into the wilderness, a hero would appear. The disguise was my idea. Once I realised that the hero was Hercules, I had to be sure that you were no longer under the power of the madness before I could reveal myself to you."

"That explains why you were so heavy for an old woman." chuckled Hercules, "Now, to business. You see, Zeus also appeared to me in a dream. I therefore offer myself to you as your servant for a year and a day. I stand ready to complete your twelve challenges."

"Twelve?" said Pittheus, "There's a mystery, for I have only one. No doubt mighty Zeus can see other troubles in my future. But please, don't stay standing now. Sit, eat, wash off the dust of the road, and I will tell you of your first challenge."
The First Challenge: The Nemean Lion

Some weeks ago, explained Pittheus, a meteor had been seen, shooting across the sky and leaving a fiery trail. It came to earth on a mountainside, near a town called Nemea, with a huge bang and a flash of light. Soon afterwards a young shepherd disappeared. A search party was sent out, but only one man returned. He was terrified out of his mind, talking about a lion that no weapon could harm. After this, the lion was seen regularly, and wherever the lion went, people died. No-one in the kingdom was brave enough to hunt the lion and so Pittheus had prayed to Zeus to send a hero.

"Your first challenge," finished Pittheus, "is to kill the Nemean Lion. Furthermore, you must bring its skin back to Troezen, so that everyone can see that it is dead."

Hercules set off the next morning and arrived two days later at a village called Cleonae, which is near to Nemea. There he looked for somewhere to stay, but the people were frightened of him. They locked their doors and would not come out. Just as he was about to give up and go to sleep in the open, a builder, Molochus, offered to let Hercules stay at his house. The lion had killed his son, so he wanted it dead. He offered to kill and cook a whole sheep for Hercules, to give him strength for the battle ahead, but Hercules told him to let the sheep live.

"Wait for thirteen days," he said, "if I return then together we will sacrifice the sheep to Zeus in thanks. If I do not return then you should sacrifice the animal in my name as I will have died a hero."

After a good night's sleep, Hercules set off to hunt the lion. First he went to Nemea and found the town completely deserted, the people having all been frightened away by the lion. Then, remembering what Pittheus had told him about the meteor crashing to earth, he set off to climb the nearby mountain. Sure enough, at the top of the mountain he found a cave with two entrances. Inside were scattered the bones of many men, all killed by the ferocious lion. Having found the beast's lair, Hercules decided to wait for it to return. He crouched behind a rock, got his bow ready, and kept his eyes fixed on the most likely way up to the cave. He had to wait a long time. The sun burnt him, the ants bit him and the flies buzzed around him, but he didn't move so much as a muscle. Eventually he was rewarded as the lion came into view, heading for the cave. It was an enormous beast with huge jaws, which were still dripping with the blood of its latest victim. Hercules crouched, scarcely daring to breathe, until the lion was well within range of his bow. Then he leapt to his feet and shot a flight of arrows with deadly accuracy. To his amazement, however, the arrows simply bounced off, so he drew his sword and charged, aiming to stab the beast in the heart. Alas the sword did no more damage than the arrows. In fact it bent almost in two, just as if it were made of lead. The lion simply yawned and looked at Hercules, licking its lips. Fortunately Hercules still had his club and, in a single movement, he brought it round from where it hung on his back to crash down on the lion's head. The club shattered into a hundred pieces and the lion, although not hurt, retreated into its cave, shaking its head because of the singing in its ears. Hercules also retreated, to Nemea, to cut himself a new club and to plan his next move. He had no idea how to defeat an enemy that no weapon seemed able to harm.

The next day Hercules returned to the cave, where he found the lion asleep. Working quietly he spread a net over one entrance to the cave, then he picked up an iron sword and a bronze shield and made his way round to the other entrance. Taking a deep breath, he began to shout at the top of his voice, at the same time banging the sword on the shield. In this way he advanced into the cave, and the sound grew louder as it bounced off the rocky walls. The lion had never heard anything like it and raced away from the terrible din, running slap bang into the net. Quickly Hercules was on him, wrestling the beast to the ground and getting his strong arms around its neck. The lion fought back, and even managed to bite off one of Hercules' fingers, but it was tangled in the net and Hercules was too strong. He squeezed his arms tighter around the lion's neck until it could no longer breathe, and soon it fell down dead. Hercules then hoisted the carcass onto his shoulders and carried it all the way back to Cleonae. He arrived exactly thirteen days after he had left, and found Molochus preparing to sacrifice the sheep to him as a dead hero. Instead they sacrificed the sheep together in honour of Zeus, and invited all the village to share the feast. Now the villagers seemed to have forgotten their fear of Hercules and they praised him as a hero, the most important among them competing for the honour of bringing him food and wine. Despite this, Hercules was still uneasy and did not seem to be enjoying himself.

"What's the matter," asked Molochus, "you are a hero. You've defeated the lion that could not be harmed – the invulnerable beast. You have achieved the impossible. Why do you not celebrate?"

"I do not celebrate because my task is not yet complete. Pittheus instructed me to bring the lion's skin back to the city, so that everyone can see that it is dead. I've tried to skin the animal, but every knife I had has crumpled against its impregnable hide. I do not know how I will be able to succeed."

Molochus thought carefully about this for a few minutes, and the two men sat silently together while the sounds and smells of the feast drifted around them. Then the builder straightened up as a thought came to him.

"The wise say that all things carry within themselves the seeds of their own destruction. Maybe the lion's skin cannot resist the lion itself?"

Hercules thought about this, nodding wisely, but otherwise he made no move.

"Maybe the lion's skin can be cut by one of the lion's own claws," Molochus prompted.

Hercules leapt to his feet as though stung and ran back to the house where he had left the lion's carcass. Molochus followed, but first he went to speak to a particular man who was sharing the feast. They arrived together just as Hercules was triumphantly making the first cut into the lion's skin using its own claw as a knife.

"It slides through as easily as if it were butter," he smiled, then, looking up, saw the man who Molochus had brought with him. "Who's this?" he asked.

"I am the village tanner," the man explained, "I can see that your old cloak has seen better days. I'd like to make you a new one. One that will be fit for a hero."

Hercules looked at his old lion skin cloak, with its bald patches, tears and colonies of fleas. Then he looked at the body of the invulnerable lion and his smile broadened into a grin.

The next morning Hercules said goodbye to his new friends and set off for Troezen, wearing his new cloak. The tanner had worked all night, waking Hercules several times to take measurements, and he had made the most splendid and practical garment from the skin of the lion. The cloak covered Hercules almost down to his knees and would protect him better than the best armour, being impenetrable to all weapons. He had even made a helmet out of the lion's head, so that when Hercules strode out of the village that morning he looked for all the world like a lion walking upright. Not that there was anyone to see, as he made his journey through the countryside, sleeping overnight under the stars. Impatient to be back he woke early, before the sun, and ran through the darkness, arriving at the gates of Troezen just as dawn was breaking. He entered the city through the main gate, and began the climb to the palace of Pittheus, which was at the top of a small hill. Half way up he stumbled on a loose stone and fell forward onto all fours, scraping his knee and roaring in pain as he did so. By bad luck it was just at this moment that a small boy was coming out of a nearby house. He carried a stone jug that he was going to fill with water for his family's breakfast, but what he saw was a huge lion, roaring a terrible roar and heading for the palace. At once he retreated back into his house, slammed the door shut and hurried to tell his father of the danger. Hercules, meanwhile, knew nothing of this, and as panic began to spread through the households below him, he completed his climb up to the palace and asked to be presented to Pittheus.

The Philosopher King was already up and Hercules found him at a desk, reviewing reports and writing instructions to ensure the smooth administration of the city, even as he ate his breakfast. On seeing the returning hero, however, the King put everything aside and stood up to grasp Hercules warmly by the hand.

"I see you have been successful... unless there were two lions," said Pittheus with a gentle laugh.

"Don't joke," replied Hercules, "one was quite trouble enough."

"Please do tell me about it," said Pittheus, "and let me arrange something for your breakfast." But before the King reached the door it was flung open, and the commander of the palace guard came rushing in.

"Sire, thank heavens your safe!" he exclaimed, "The townspeople have armed themselves, and there is a mob of them surrounding the palace. They say the lion has come to kill you, but that they will protect you." He was going to say more, except he caught sight of Hercules, standing quietly in his new cloak. He frowned, then screwed his face up tight in thought, then finally smiled as he realised what must have happened.

"Maybe I should present our saviour to the people," said Pittheus, "we can all hear his story together."

And so it was. Food was brought out, and Hercules told his story to the crowd. Then he chased the little children around, roaring as they squealed in pretend terror. Then he told the story again, and the people all cheered when he got to the bit where he defeated the lion.

"Well, we seem to have avoided a mass panic this time," said Pittheus to Hercules, in a quiet moment, "but I think that next time it would be best if you displayed your trophies outside the city walls."
The Second Challenge: The Lernaean Hydra

After he had had something to eat and something to drink, and had told his story to a hundred and one different children, Hercules decided to go and have a bath. It was three weeks since his last one, which he had taken the day before setting out for Nemea. Now, in the time of Hercules people went to public baths, which were more like swimming pools than the baths we use today. Troezen had some very fine public baths, and Hercules went to the largest one of these. First he took off all his clothes, because everyone bathed naked. Then he went through to the first pool, which was neither cold nor hot, but pleasant enough to sit in and pass the time. Hercules went swiftly through this pool, impatient to get to the rooms beyond, which contained a hot pool, a sizzling steam room and last, his favourite of all, the freezing cold plunge pool. After staying for as long as he could bear in the steam room, Hercules found that diving into the icy water was a shock and a relief all in one.

"Hercules! Hercules!" Just as Hercules was climbing out of the plunge pool a young man came running into the room, calling his name. The youngster had obviously been in such a rush that he had forgotten to take his clothes off, and all around people were tutting and shaking their heads in disapproval of this poor behaviour. But the young man didn't notice, he was too focused on finding Hercules.

"Hercules!" He called again and then, on seeing the hero emerging from the pool, he blurted out, "I bring a message from King Pittheus. He requests your presence in the palace at once, immediately and without delay."

"That's a lot of words for a simple meaning," replied Hercules, "but I understand. Lead on."

The young man led the way, running through the streets at a surprising speed, although no faster than Hercules could manage. As they ran there came the sounds of shrieks and whistles and loud tuts, and Hercules suddenly realised that he'd run out of the baths without pausing to put on his clothes. Fortunately as they went into the palace he was able to borrow a cloak from one of the soldiers on guard. It would never do to appear naked before the king. The young man led Hercules to the throne room, and then left as quickly as he had arrived. Inside, King Pittheus was waiting and he told Hercules of his next challenge.

Shortly after you left for the baths, began Pittheus, a rider arrived at the city gates. He said he had come from Lerna and had ridden all night to get here. He seemed to be in terrible pain and, although he could barely speak, he begged to be brought before me to tell his story. He had been an engineer sent from Lerna to the nearby marshes in order to drain them and prepare the land for farming. He had a good number of labourers with him and also some soldiers, as the marshes were said to be a hideout for bandits. At first the work went well, but as they pushed further into the marsh, they noticed disturbing signs. A terrible smell like rotting food. Things moving under the surface of the water. Sounds of a huge beast stalking them - always just out of sight. By now a thick mist had come down, and the men decided that work would have to stop for the day. They packed up their tools ready to head back to the camp, looking forward to a warm fire, food and bed. It was then that the beast struck, appearing out of the mist with a huge roar. It had the body of a gigantic dog, but where a dog would have had one head, this had eight or nine. It was impossible to tell exactly how many because each head was on the end of a long neck, like a snake, and they constantly writhed and twined around one another. The creature's breath was poison, and the men nearest were gasping for air and clutching at their throats as soon as it appeared. Wherever it stepped the plants turned brown, withered and died. For a moment the beast just stood there, but then a head lashed out at one of the men, sending him flying into the air. Then another. Then another. Until all the men, even the soldiers, were running around in panic.

It was the engineer himself who managed to keep his calm and so save the situation. He tore a piece from his cloak to cover his nose and mouth, as protection from the poison. Then he noticed one soldier carried a bugle and ordered him to blow it so that the men could follow the sound and regroup. Next he ordered two soldiers who carried bows to fire arrows at the beast to keep it back while the others got away. In this way they made it back to their camp, following the sound of the bugle to safety. Although the engineer had been hurt by breathing the monster's poison, he set off at once to warn the king and to beg for his assistance.

"My wise friends," finished Pittheus, "have told me that this beast is called a Hydra. It is the result of evil sorcery and must be destroyed before it has a chance to breed. So, Hercules, your second challenge is to kill the Lernaean Hydra and secure the marshes."

With barely a nod of his head to show that he had understood, Hercules was on his feet and heading for the door. It was clear that the mission had now seized control of him. His actions showed that he was already thinking through his plan, for, as he left the room, he made time to drain a cup of water and to fill his pockets with food. Who knew how long it might be before fresh water and good food would be available to him again. Only his respect for the peace and quiet of Pittheus' many other guests stopped him from breaking into a run as he made his way through the palace grounds. At last he reached the gates and burst through them, ready to let his feet fly in pursuit of his quarry.

"SIRE!" The shout stopped Hercules in his tracks, and he turned to see the young man who had found him at the baths. Over his shoulder, and with some obvious effort, he carried Hercules' club.

"Sire," he repeated, more quietly, "I realised that you had left the baths naked, and so I returned to bring you your personal effects. Alas," and here the young man shuffled his feet in embarrassment, "I was only strong enough to bring one thing." Here he held out the handle of the club for Hercules to take, bowing slightly as he did so. At this point Hercules realised that he had been about to set off on a dangerous mission naked, except for a borrowed cloak, and with no weapons. He fixed the young man with a steady gaze.

"What is your name?" growled Hercules, and, although he had not even reached for his club, the guards at the gate seemed to shrink lower behind their shields when they heard his tone. But the young man held Hercules' gaze and the club did not shake in his hands.

"Iolaus," he answered.

"Well, Iolaus," said Hercules in a less threatening voice, "it was a wise choice to bring my weapon first, rather than my armour – defence on its own is never a good strategy. However, I can cut a new club from any olive tree I pass. The chances of my finding another invulnerable lion on my journey are quite small."

Iolaus hung his head and looked so sad that Hercules immediately regretted his harsh words. Slinging his club over his back, he asked the young man, "Can you drive a chariot?" and, when Iolaus nodded to confirm that he could, Hercules continued, "Go back to the baths and collect my cloak, then borrow the fastest chariot you can find and see if you can catch me up. I will be taking the road to Lerna", and with that Hercules set off at a run towards the city gates and out into the countryside beyond. Before long he heard the rattle of wheels behind him, and he turned to see Iolaus driving a chariot, with a team of four horses, at terrific speed along the road. As the chariot drew alongside him, and without causing it even to slow in its headlong flight, Hercules swung himself up onto the platform beside his young driver. There, folded neatly, he found his lion skin cloak, which he happily put on.

"Now we're ready for anything," he shouted to Iolaus above the noise of the wind that was whipping around the fast moving chariot, "forward, charioteer, forward to Lerna!"

They reached the marshes just before dawn. Everything was covered in a thick mist, and the whole world looked grey. Hercules wanted to rush in and confront the beast, but Iolaus suggested they drive the chariot around the edge of the marsh to see if they could spot the Hydra's lair.

"It will be quicker than blundering around in that mist," he said, and Hercules was forced to agree.

Sure enough, they reached the far side of the swamp just as the sun's heat had burnt off most of the mist. There they saw a glade of trees and, in the middle of the trees, a cave. From the mouth of the cave came a constant stream of poisonous gas \- rising in clouds above the bare branches of the little wood.

"That must be its lair," roared Hercules, and he was all ready to spring off the chariot and into the attack when Iolaus stopped him.

"Wait," said the clever young man, "that cloak of yours will protect you from any weapon, but how will it save you from a cave full of poison gas?" Hercules saw the sense in this and waited while Iolaus continued. "Here, I brought some fire arrows. Take one and shoot it deep into the cave. That should force the beast out into the open."

Hercules, who was a better archer than any man alive, snatched up the bow and with one smooth movement had sent a fiery arrow into the dark depths of the cave. Just as Iolaus had predicted, there was a terrible roar and, one after another, seven snaky heads emerged from the cave followed by the beast's body, which did indeed have the form of an enormous dog. Hercules unslung his club and rushed through the marsh towards his enemy. At the last minute he took a huge gulp of air and, from then on, held his breath to protect himself from the monster's poison. Then he continued his attack, closing in on the Hydra and swinging his club this way and that with the aim of crushing its skulls. But the snaky heads were too quick, they weaved and dodged and ducked, always keeping clear of the big club. One of them would even have given Hercules a nasty bite if he hadn't have been wearing his lion skin. Now, desperately needing to take a breath, Hercules threw caution to the wind and dived on one of the heads, wrestled it to the ground and finally succeeded in crushing it with one huge blow of his club. Jumping clear and running to a safe distance from the enraged beast, Hercules took another huge breath before clamping his mouth shut and turning to charge back to the fight. But what a sight met his eyes! From the end of its injured neck, the Hydra was growing three new heads. As Hercules watched they reached full size and started to look around to find whoever had dared to attack them. Never one to give up, Hercules shifted the grip on his club and prepared to advance, when...

"Ow!" Hercules cried out in pain and surprise. Looking down, he saw that a huge crab had emerged from the marsh and had clamped its claw around his foot. Hercules went to stamp on the crab, but he was off balance, and his foot slid of the shiny shell making him slip and stumble. Fighting to stay on his feet, Hercules dropped his club, and immediately the crab caught it up in its claws and carried it off into the marsh. With his weapon gone, he could only stand and watch as the Hydra advanced. Slowly it came forward, pushing through the trees, until its heads were within striking distance of the defenceless hero. But, just as the first head was drawing back to strike, there was a twang and a thud, and the beast roared in pain as a flaming arrow caught it right in one of its mouths. Iolaus, seeing Hercules in trouble, had advanced through the marsh until he came within bowshot. Now arrows rained down, most missing the beast but, instead, setting fire to the trees around it, giving Hercules vital time to recover.

"Hercules, catch," shouted Iolaus, throwing a sword with all his strength. It was a good throw, but it was clear that it would fall short and into the marsh. Desperately Hercules dived and caught the hilt of the sword at full stretch, ending up falling flat into the shallow stinking water. But now he had a weapon. He picked himself up and turned back to look towards his enemy. The Hydra stood menacingly in the middle of the grove of trees, many of which were now burning. Without a word, Hercules sprinted towards the beast, whirling his sword so that it flashed in the morning sunlight. In just a few seconds he had cut off two of the monster's heads but, each time, new ones grew from the open necks and the Hydra attacked again. Unable to hold his breath longer, Hercules retreated once more to fill his lungs.

Looking back at the Hydra standing in the middle of the grove of burning trees gave Hercules an idea. This time he advanced slowly, letting the beast come towards him and so bringing it closer to the largest part of the fire. The beast attacked, its heads striking at Hercules from all directions, but Hercules did not strike back. He ducked and weaved and waited for the right moment. Then he swung his blade with lightning speed, severing three heads that had grown from a single neck. Even as the Hydra roared in pain, Hercules grabbed the injured neck and thrust the end into the hottest part of the fire. The beast roared again and shook its neck free from his grasp, but the fire had done its work. The neck was sealed and no new heads grew from it. Having learnt the secret to victory, Hercules made short work of sealing the other necks in the fire. When the last head was severed, the Hydra fell down dead. Now Hercules turned his attention to the beast's lair. He made a mask to wrap around his face, to protect himself against the poisonous fumes, took a burning branch to light his way and entered the cave.

Inside, the cave was damp and the Hydra's poison still hung in the air. Even though Hercules was wearing a mask, it hurt his throat to breathe, but he knew he had to fulfil his mission and search the cave. The light from the burning branch flickered, throwing moving shadows around the rock walls, making it difficult to see clearly. Hercules moved forward carefully and steadily until he rounded a corner and came into a large cavern. There he found what he was looking for. On the floor of the cavern stood dozens of enormous eggs, each one reaching almost as high as Hercules' waist.

"Lucky I found you before you hatched," he said to himself. Then one by one he smashed the eggs with his sword. Each one was filled with a disgusting dark green slime, which burnt his skin where it touched him and made his sword's blade smoke. On he went until the sword melted away, and he had to use rocks to smash the eggs. Finally there were no eggs left, and Hercules found himself at the far side of the cavern. By now his burning branch had almost gone out, and he could see a glow coming from an opening nearby. Thinking there might be more eggs, Hercules went through the opening and down the short tunnel beyond until he came to two stone pillars, which blocked the way. Looking past the pillars, he could see the glow of fire, and he could smell brimstone.

"This looks like an entrance to the Underworld, the home of the god Hades," Hercules said quietly to himself, "all kinds of beasts live down there. It is probably where the Hydra came from. I had better seal it up." So saying, he put his back to the tunnel wall, placed his feet on the nearest pillar and pushed with all his might. With a tearing, crashing sound, the pillar fell to the tunnel floor. Hercules was just about to topple the second pillar, when he happened to look up and saw that a crack was already opening in the roof above him. A shower of pebbles fell on his head, and then the cave began to collapse. Hercules ran as fast as he had ever run before, back to the chamber of eggs, with stones now falling all around him. As he entered the chamber, his torch went out entirely, and he threw the branch aside, continuing on through the darkness, trusting his instincts to lead him in the right direction. Behind him, he could hear the rumble of the collapse turning into a roar of crashing rock, but he knew he couldn't afford to look back. On he raced until, with a surge of relief, he saw the light of the cave entrance ahead of him. With a final effort he dived through the entrance, emerging into the light in a shower of stones and a cloud of dust. Moments later the cave entrance itself collapsed, sealing the cavern and the entrance to the Underworld forever. Hercules picked himself up and was about to dust himself down when he saw Iolaus. The young man was bending over the body of the Hydra, although he had stopped what he was doing when the cave collapsed. Now he straightened up and came over to Hercules carrying a quiver full of arrows.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," replied Hercules, "a little dust but that's all. What have you been up to?"

Iolaus held the quiver of arrows out to Hercules, "These have been dipped in the Hydra's blood. It is a deadly poison and the merest scratch from one of these arrows will kill instantly," then, after a pause, he added, "You might want to be careful with them." Hercules took the arrows, impressed once again by his new companion's resourcefulness.
The Third Challenge: The Ceryneian Hind

Iolaus and Hercules travelled back to Troezen at a more relaxed pace. They spent the night sleeping outside under the stars, as Hercules now preferred to do, having spent so long in the wilderness, and arrived at the city gates the next morning. Hercules was keen to go back to the baths, since he had been disturbed the last time. First, however, he followed his duty and went to the palace to tell Pittheus of the Hydra's death. Iolaus said that he would go to return the chariot and prepare provisions for the next challenge. After all, he said, there was no knowing how soon they might need to set out again, or for how long. As Hercules walked up to the palace, he realised with surprise that he hadn't objected to the idea of the young man joining him on his next adventure. A few days ago he had been worried that Iolaus would get in the way or, worse, get himself killed, but Iolaus had shown great wisdom and bravery in the fight against the Hydra. Still, Hercules reminded himself, Iolaus was only mortal and needed to be careful.

When Hercules arrived at the palace, he was immediately shown to the throne room. The guard at the door recognised him and held the door open, allowing Hercules to go straight in. It was darker in the room than outside, but even so, Hercules was immediately able to see that the figure facing him from the opposite end of the room wasn't the king. This was a young woman, dressed for the hunt, in dark green clothes with her hair tied up and a bow slung across her back. At her side stood two huge hunting dogs. They bared their fangs when they saw Hercules, and the woman narrowed her green eyes as she stared at him.

With a single fluid motion Hercules unslung his bow and loosed an arrow, aimed straight at the woman's head. It only took him the time it takes for a bird's wingbeat to launch the arrow, but the woman was just as quick. She, too, suddenly had a bow in her hands and shot her arrow with such perfection that the two missiles met, with a clang, in mid-air, clattering to the stone floor in the dead centre of the room. Man and woman glared at one another, and, for a hearbeat, it seemed like they would fire again, but then a smile began to form on Hercules' face. It broke into a grin as he strode forward to greet the woman.

"Artemis, it is good to see you," he cried out.

Although Artemis was a full daughter of Zeus, and a goddess in her own right, Hercules loved her as a favourite sister. They had many things in common, not least because Artemis was legendary for her skills in hunting.

"Hercules, brother," she replied, as they met in the middle of the room, next to the fallen arrows, and hugged one another warmly.

"I almost had you that time," said Hercules, looking at the arrows and shaking his head.

"You would have to be a lot quicker than that to catch me out," laughed Artemis, then she was suddenly serious, "But enough of this merriment. I have come from Olympus with a serious purpose. Very serious indeed, because it comes from father Zeus himself, and also because it involves a hunt ..." Hercules chuckled to himself, as Artemis continued. He knew that she loved to hunt, and so that bit of the challenge would seem important to her, but even so, surely not so important as to be mentioned in the same breath as the great god Zeus. Unless this was the hunt of a lifetime. Whatever he was to be sent after must be a fearsome beast indeed to have impressed even Artemis. Automatically Hercules reached for the handle of his club, only to remember that it was at the bottom of the Lernean swamp. He would have to cut himself a new one before he set off, or maybe pick one up on the way. This made him think of all the other preparations he would need to make and...

"Are you listening to me?" snapped Artemis, and Hercules realised that she had been telling a long story.

"Yes, sister," said Hercules, blushing, for in truth he hadn't heard a word of what she had said. Fortunately, King Pittheus, who now emerged from the shadows to the side of the throne room, came to his rescue.

"I found the story of your childhood fascinating," he said, "I had no idea that your silver bow was made by the Cyclops, or that the goat-god Pan gave you your hunting dogs, or that Zeus himself gave you every mountain in the world for your home -"

"Except Olympus, of course," interrupted Hercules.

"Ah, so you were listening," said Artemis, "but I can see your attention wanders easily, so I will get to the point. When I was still just a girl, I was out hunting wild boar in Thessaly, and I came across five hinds – which are female deer. These were no ordinary hinds. Each one was as big as a bull, with golden horns and bronze hooves. I immediately decided that I would have these beautiful creatures to pull my chariot. I put aside my bow and arrows and began to stalk them. In just a short time I had managed to capture four of them, bringing them down, one by one, with my bare hands, but the fifth one escaped. The last I saw of it, it was heading towards the Ceryneian Hills and -"

By now Hercules was impatient to be away, and he broke in rudely, "Got it. Say no more. I understand. Huge monstrous deer with deadly, sharp antlers and armoured, crushing hooves terrorising the countryside around Ceryne. Don't worry about a thing, once I cut myself a new club you can consider it dead..." Hercules came to a stop because he could see the horrified looks on the faces of Artemis and Pittheus.

"Oh Hercules!" exclaimed Artemis, "I sometimes wonder if there's more wood in your club or in your head. Father Zeus does not mean for you to kill this hind. In fact, you must not harm a hair on its head. It is simply that he observed the slow progress of your chariot, on your trip to Lerna, and has decided that you need faster transportation for the challenges ahead. Remember, if you do not complete the twelve challenges within a year and a day then Alcyoneus will break free and destroy the world. So, Hercules," finished Artemis, in a serious voice, "your third challenge is to capture the Ceryneian Hind. She will draw your chariot until your labours are complete, and then she will have her freedom of the parks of Troezen."

After having fully understood his new mission, Hercules left the palace and headed into the city to look for Iolaus. He found him in the marketplace, bargaining over the price of a sword.

"Don't bother," Hercules said, "my next challenge is of a different nature." And he told Iolaus about Artemis and the Ceryneian Hind.

"Well, I'm glad I made a start on our provisions," began the young man, "I'd better go and get the chariot back. Then we'll need something to use to catch the deer. How about a net?"

"No good," said Hercules, "I've seen animals badly injured through struggling in a net. Snares won't work either. We mustn't hurt this hind in any way, it is a gift from Zeus. Rope, I think, would be best. Why don't you get some, gather our other provisions and then catch me up. I'll be..."

"... on the Ceryneian road. I know," cut in Iolaus. Hercules nodded, and then he was away.

As before, Iolaus quickly caught up with Hercules, and together they made the long trip north towards Thessaly. Despite Iolaus' preparation, they began to run short of food before they had even reached Ceryne. Hercules taught Iolaus how to live off the land, which berries and roots were safe to eat, as well as which animals and birds were easiest to catch. One evening Iolaus went hunting and brought back a wild boar, proud to have killed such a large and fearsome beast, but Hercules was not impressed.

"I admire your bravery and your skill," said Hercules, "and your wise counsel helped me defeat the Hydra, but tonight I think you have made a poor choice. We cannot eat such a large animal, and we have no means of preserving it. The meat will spoil, and Mother Earth will be angry because we took more than we needed." What Hercules did not say was that he was also worried for his mortal friend. He had seen men killed by wild boars and didn't want Iolaus to risk his life just to impress him. Nevertheless, they cooked the boar and Hercules ate so much that, at one point, Iolaus thought that they would finish it. In fact they had enough left over to swap for bread and milk at a village they passed the next day.

The rest of the journey passed uneventfully, except to say that Hercules grew more restless as the days went by. Although he enjoyed being in the countryside and sleeping under the stars, he knew that the year was ticking by, and that he had only completed two of his twelve challenges. So, when they started to get close to Ceryne, Hercules was impatient to begin the hunt at once.

"Go to the town," Hercules said to Iolaus, "and replenish our supplies. I will go and capture the hind. Near here there is a mountain called Mount Artemisium, in honour of my sister. At the base of this mountain is a ford across the river Ladon. Wait for me there, and I will find you when I have captured the hind - probably tomorrow or the next day."

"But master," replied Iolaus, "what if it is not as easy as you think?"

"Nonsense," said Hercules, "Artemis, when she was just a girl, caught four deer just like this one in a matter of minutes." Then he turned and disappeared into the trees that surrounded the road. Iolaus, even though he was not convinced, did as he was told, and that night he camped by the ford in the river, just as Hercules had asked. But Hercules did not find him the next day. Or the next. Or the next. In fact, it would be a month before Iolaus would see his friend again.

Hercules was full of confidence when he set out into the woods. Although the day was drawing to a close and the leaves of the trees blocked out much of the light, he decided that he would begin to scout around, covering as much ground as possible. Of course, in the evening gloom he soon lost his way, and found that he was going round in circles. Finally he saw sense and decided to stop for the night, making a simple camp and planning on an early start in the morning.

Refreshed by a good night's sleep, Hercules was up before dawn. He ate the last of his provisions for breakfast, confident that he would meet up with Iolaus that evening, and set out as the first rays of the sun were breaking through the trees. With good light, things went better. Hercules didn't get lost this time and was able to explore a large area of the wood. But by the evening he had still not seen the hind, nor any sign of her. He decided that he couldn't go back to Iolaus empty handed, so he made camp and went to sleep quite hungry.

The next morning Hercules was up early once again, and today he had a new plan. Rather than wander about in the woods, where the trees blocked his view, he would find some high ground - a big hill perhaps. From there, he would be able to see the surrounding landscape, looking for places the hind might be found. He might also see a village or a cottage, where he could ask the people if they had seen the hind. He was also determined to catch something to eat. He had found some berries for breakfast, but he still felt hungry.

All that day Hercules hunted through the wood, but on hearing his steps it seemed like all the animals of the forest ran away. He was tired and hungry by the time the sun started to move lower in the sky. He had not found a hill, or seen any people. He had certainly seen no sign of the hind. Angry and disappointed, he gave up trying to move quietly and stomped through the forest, slashing at the undergrowth with his bow. He had given up all hope of catching something to eat when, from out of a small bush right at his feet, there shot a large rabbit. Quick as a flash, Hercules loosed an arrow, thinking he might have something for dinner after all, but the rabbit ran through a thicket, and the arrow was stopped by a tangle of roots and branches. Not wanting to go to bed hungry, Hercules set off at a run after the rabbit. Branches and leaves whipped his face and legs as he ran, while roots tried to trip him, but Hercules kept going, even as the trees grew thicker, until it seemed like he was running through a solid wall of leaves. Then, suddenly, the trees stopped, and he broke through into a clearing where he came to a sudden halt... face to face with the Ceryneian Hind.

For a moment man and beast stood staring at each other, both too shocked to react. Then the hind recovered and leapt off, knocking Hercules onto his back and disappearing almost immediately into the dense forest around the clearing. Of course, it was only a matter of moments before Hercules was on his feet again and in pursuit of the hind, but he soon realised why Father Zeus had thought this a good beast to pull his chariot. It was fast. Maybe the fastest animal in creation. Soon Hercules lost sight of the hind in the forest, and again he was at a loss what to do. At first he was frustrated at having come so close and yet still to have lost his quarry. He was angry, and was about to uproot a whole tree, when a voice in his head said 'what would Iolaus do now?' That made him stop long enough to remember to control his anger. He counted to ten, something he had learnt as a boy to help to calm himself down. Then he stood very still and used his eyes and ears. What he saw with his eyes were twigs on the trees and bushes that had been broken by the hind as she ran by. And he saw leaves that had been turned over by her hooves as she passed, and even, where the ground was soft, hoof prints. With his ears he heard the call of frightened birds to the west. Having learnt all that he could from being still, Hercules set off in the direction he knew the hind must have gone. At first he went at full speed, but soon he slowed his pace so that he had time to read the signs that the hind had left. After an hour, when it was already dark, Hercules was rewarded for his care. He glimpsed the hind through the trees, grazing calmly. Slowly he prepared his rope and crept forward, placing each foot carefully so as to make no noise. Closer and closer he moved, scarcely daring to breathe, but even as he was readying his rope, the hind's head came up with a snap, she looked around and then she was gone, racing through the woods with Hercules in pursuit.

Once again the hind soon outpaced Hercules, but once again Hercules was able to track the animal by reading the small signs she had left as she ran through the forest. The job was harder now that it was night, but the moon was bright, and just before dawn, Hercules caught up with his quarry. This time the hind had settled down to sleep, and Hercules took off his shoes and prepared his rope. He even checked the wind to make sure the hind would not smell him as he approached. Then he began to creep slowly forwards. He was sure that he would be able to reach the animal before it awoke, but this was a magical creature, and its senses were keener than any living deer. Before Hercules had crossed half the distance, the hind's eyes flicked open. Hercules sprinted forward, threw the rope, and it would have landed round the hind's neck, but she was up and off with lightning speed, and the lasso landed on the leaves of the forest floor.

Days passed, with the same pattern repeating itself again and again. Hercules would track the deer and it would escape. He would come close, but never quite manage to get a rope around the animal's neck. All the time the hero and the hind were getting more and more tired. They were both strong and determined, but neither could go on forever without enough sleep or enough food. Who would have to stop first? Hercules was afraid it might be him, until the day came when he saw, rising above the trees, the peak of Mount Artemisium. The sight of his sister's mountain gave him hope, and it also gave him an idea. He started to drive the hind towards the mountain. It took three more days and three more nights, but then they were on the mountain. The trees grew thinner and then stopped altogether as they went higher. Now the hind could not hide, but she was still faster than Hercules, always staying just out of reach as he chased her round the mountain top. Eventually, on the fourth day, Hercules had had enough.

"This ends now," he bellowed, "I admit that I am not as good a hunter as Artemis - not by a long way. But I do have my talents, nevertheless." So saying, he drew his bow and fired.

It seemed as if heaven itself held its breath as the arrow flew through the air. Had Hercules not taken a solemn oath to capture this animal unharmed? This was a gift from Zeus himself and here he was shooting an arrow into it. Had he been driven to madness again?

The arrow hit its target. The hind fell to the ground, and the world seemed to start again, as Hercules rushed forward.

But the deer was not dead. No, not even hurt. So skillfully had Hercules shot the arrow that it had passed cleanly through both forelegs of the deer, pinning them together but not drawing even one single drop of blood. Hercules dropped the rope over the head of the hind, then bent and broke the arrow in two, removing each half from each leg. Immediately the hind climbed back to her feet completely unharmed, just as Hercules had promised. She bowed her head to Hercules, acknowledging that she had been beaten and was now his servant. He in turn removed the rope from her neck and led the way back down the mountain to find the ford where he had asked Iolaus to wait.

The young man had waited and waited in the agreed place, despite his friend having taken much longer than he had expected. Maybe he would have waited there forever, such was his loyalty, but of course he was delighted, and not a little relieved, when he saw a familiar figure descending from the mountain. However, the delight soon turned to shock when he saw how Hercules had been changed by this challenge. The hero seemed smaller, as well as thinner, and his eyes were sunken in his grey, tired face. The hind, although tall, also looked to have been ravaged by her experience during the chase. Fortunately, Iolaus was very resourceful and thoughtful. He had prepared for this moment and, after greeting his friend and saying hello to the hind, he served a light stew for Hercules and some fresh hay for the deer. Once they had eaten their fill, both the man and the animal lay on the ground and fell into a deep sleep.

For two more days they remained at the camp site by the ford. Iolaus tended to both Hercules and the hind, his nourishing food restoring their strength, and long hours of sleep building up their stamina. Although more rest would have been good, Hercules insisted that they start back to Troezen on the third day. The hind allowed Iolaus to harness her to the chariot, she had come to trust the young man just as Hercules himself had done, and the three were now the best of friends. With the hind doing the pulling, the horses were able to trot along behind the chariot, with only the lightest of loads to carry. At first they thought that they were having a holiday, but then the hind showed her speed and strength. Soon the horses were having to gallop to keep up, the sweat foaming on their flanks, and Iolaus had to ease up on the reins so that they wouldn't get left behind. In less than two days they were back at Troezen, where Pittheus was waiting, and he was not pleased.
The Fourth Challenge: The Erymanthian Boar

As Hercules and Iolaus approached Troezen, they saw a group of horsemen riding out to meet them. Once the two parties got closer together, they could see that the lead rider was none other than King Pittheus himself. Hercules felt a chill of uncertainty pass through his body and Iolaus was grimly silent as they both knew that the king would not have left the city on a minor matter. Indeed, as he rode up to the chariot his face was stern and his eyes were serious.

"Last night," began Pittheus without any pleasantries or greeting, "there was a terrible thunderstorm over the city. Lightning struck many buildings, and in some places this started fires that, mercifully, the citizens were able to control. When the storm died down, and we were finally able to sleep, the great god Zeus appeared to me in my dreams." Hercules looked worried and Iolaus looked concerned as Pittheus continued, "Zeus said that he was displeased by the way in which you captured the hind. The weapons and practice of war, he said, had led you to madness and put the whole world at risk. The fact that you could not complete this last challenge without using your bow shows how little you have learnt and how much of the journey is left ahead."

"What would Zeus have me do," growled Hercules, "I have captured the hind and completed the challenge. I used the skills that I have and solved the problem in my own way, what's wrong with that?" Then he looked past Pittheus to the city and saw that, here and there, trails of smoke could still be seen hanging above the places where fires had burnt. Maybe they marked the destroyed remains of houses, maybe one was the house of the boy who had mistaken him for a lion. "Was anyone hurt?" he asked softly.

"There were some slight burns, one man had his arm broken, but on the whole we were very lucky," said the captain of the guard, who had ridden out with his king.

"We were lucky," cut in Pittheus, "this time. Now it is time we made our own luck." He fixed Hercules with his piercing gaze. "Hercules, although I don't hold you responsible for our ill fortune, I cannot let you enter the city. Many of the citizens think that it would bring the wrath of Zeus down upon us once more and, who knows, they might be right." Hercules nodded, his face showing nothing, but inside his stomach was churning. He had come to love Troezen almost as much as his own city of Thebes. More importantly, he had begun to think of the citizens as friends, and now it felt like they might be rejecting him.

"What must I do?" was all that he said.

"Your fourth challenge," announced Pittheus, "is to capture the Erymanthian Boar and to do so without the use of weapons. You must return the boar to Troezen, unharmed, and we will make a home for it in the city parks.". Hercules rubbed his thumb and forefinger along his chin, thinking about this. The Erymanthian Boar was said to be a fearsome creature, almost supernatural in strength and unrivalled in ferocity. Many brave men had hunted the boar, none had succeeded and only the lucky ones had escaped with their lives. He very much doubted that the king would want this creature anywhere near his city, once he had seen it at close quarters.

"May I enter the city?" asked Iolaus, interrupting Hercules' thoughts, "I would like to gather provisions for our journey." Then, when Pittheus had given his permission, Iolaus said to Hercules, "Let me take the chariot and go to the city. You start off and I'll catch you up."

"Not this time," replied Hercules, although he did step down from the chariot, leaving it to Iolaus, "I've had enough of stumbling around the woods looking for animals. This time I'm going to get some help. My friends the centaurs will know where to find this boar. They know all the forests and woods in this part of the world. However, they do not take kindly to strangers, so you should go straight to Erymanthus, while I go and meet the centaurs."

Now, Iolaus had heard of centaurs. Half man and half horse, huge and strong, wise but wild. He longed to see them for himself, but he knew better than to argue with Hercules. Instead, he went off once more to prepare the chariot and load it with provisions, as Hercules set off on foot to find the centaurs. However, when he set off from the city towards Erymanthus, the temptation was too great for Iolaus. He did not stick to the road but swerved off into the woods. Leaving the chariot under the care of the hind, he followed the tracks that Hercules had left.

It did not take Hercules long to find the centaurs. He remembered that, at this time of year, they stayed in a place where there were plenty of caves to shelter them, because it was winter and the snows were coming. So, on the third day, he entered their camp, with his club and bow slung on his back and his arms outstretched, to show he meant no harm. Nevertheless, the centaurs did not seem pleased to see him. They quickly surrounded him, with spears pointed at his body from all directions, and they prodded him in the direction of the largest cave. From that cave emerged a centaur so large that he had to bend his head to stop it scraping the ceiling. He had a well-kept beard that was flecked with grey, and the other centaurs bowed slightly when they saw him, but he smiled when he saw Hercules.

"My old friend," he said, "I know you've only come to visit because you need a favour, but I'm none the less glad to see you."

"Cheiron, king of the centaurs," replied Hercules, bowing low, "you are as direct and as wise as you always were. I do have a favour to ask, but I will take pleasure from your company even if the favour is not granted."

"Then you had better join me in my cave," said Cheiron, "the night will soon be here and there is a fire inside. Tonight you shall be my guest."

The two friends sat by the fire, sharing a meal and swapping stories of their glorious adventures, sadly agreeing that the world had changed from the days that mortals now remembered only through myths and legends. Cheiron, of course, knew every detail of the Erymanthian Boar and told Hercules exactly where it could be found at this time of year. He said that wild boar seldom move far from their wallow, which is where they spend the daytime, and that every animal had its favourite spots. Everything was going as well as it could possibly be, until Hercules noticed a large jar in the corner of the cave. It was old and covered in dust, but from its shape and size the hero knew exactly what it would contain.

"This food is excellent, the company is better." he said, licking his lips and eyeing the jar, "what would really make the evening complete is a cup of wine." Cheiron followed Hercules' gaze and shuddered. His friend knew very well that the centaurs were forbidden from drinking wine. Long ago they had been invited to a wedding feast, a spectacular affair that it was rumoured even the gods had attended. This was the first time that any centaur had been offered wine, and they had no idea of the effect it had on both senses and reason. Before long all the centaurs were drunk, at first it just made them playful, then they became quarrelsome, finally they turned the wedding into a pitched battle and many were killed. Since that day, no centaur had touched wine again.

"You know very well that it's not allowed," said Cheiron, annoyed at Hercules, "I don't know why you would suggest such a thing."

"I only mentioned it," replied Hercules, "because you have a jar of wine in your cave. I thought that maybe the rules had changed."

"No, the rules are the same and always will be," explained Cheiron, "that single jar is allowed to remain here only because it was given to the centaurs by Dionysus himself, when he was our guest four years ago." Hercules' eyes widened at the thought that this jar had been given as a gift by the god of wine himself, the quality of the wine it contained must be beyond compare.

"Dionysus did not leave this as a gift," continued the centaur, seeming to read his thoughts, "he left it because he foresaw a time when a king and a hero would drink from it together."

"Well, that settles it," roared Hercules, getting to his feet and striding over to the jar, "for you are a king, and I am a hero. The god of wine has left this here for our enjoyment and in honour of my father, Zeus. It would be an insult to leave it untasted." So saying, he lifted the lid off the jar and drew two cups, one for himself and one for his host, who had been persuaded by the hero's logic and accepted his cup graciously. The two were soon settled comfortably by the fire again, but Hercules had forgotten to seal the jar and the fragrance of the fine wine filled the cave, spilling out into the centaurs' camp beyond. Smelling the wine, they understood at once that Hercules had broken their most sacred law, and soon there was uproar as they argued over what should be done. This argument was quickly settled when, hearing the commotion outside, Hercules appeared at the mouth of the cave, the cup of wine still held in his hand.

"Sacrilege," cried one of the younger centaurs and charged towards the hero, intending to do him great harm. The other centaurs had also decided that this stranger should not be forgiven for breaking their rules and, while some began to charge at the cave, others started to gather weapons. Hercules retreated back into the cave, causing the centaurs to shout and jeer, thinking he was afraid, but then he returned and began to throw firebrands at the attackers. Soon all was confusion and smoke, and it became clear that the centaurs could not get near to the cave without being badly burnt. Hercules might have won the day, although he himself was still trapped in the cave, except that among the centaurs was a wise old female. She had lived so long that she had learnt a little magic. Just enough that now she merely had to raise her hands to the sky, mutter a few mystic words, pledge a sacrifice and suddenly rain was falling all around, putting out the firebrands and leaving Hercules in terrible peril.

Magic, as everyone knows, is fickle. It does not only serve one master, and it often has effects that even the wisest wizard cannot predict. The old female meant that the sacrifice she pledged would be Hercules, but there were two other players in the game, of which she was unaware. Firstly, Cheiron, having seen what was happening, had also come out of the cave. Now he was desperately trying to calm the situation, as he did not want either his friend or his subjects to be harmed. Secondly, there was Iolaus, who had tracked Hercules to the centaurs' camp and lay hidden behind a bush in the darkness. His joy at seeing these mythical beasts so close to him was now turning to fear and distress, as the battle turned against his friend. He saw that Hercules was readying his bow in order to drive off the centaurs for a second time. He also saw that the rain had turned the ground to mud, and that the downpour had soaked the bow, making the string loose. Knowing that he had to do something, Iolaus jumped from his hiding place.

"STOP!" he shouted. Everyone turned to see what hero or army had come to the rescue of Hercules, but seeing only a single young man with no weapons they quickly lost interest. Except for one centaur who turned and began to advance on Iolaus, who now stood rooted to the spot, undecided about what to do. Ignoring the others, Hercules grabbed for an arrow, in his haste picking one that had been dipped in the Hydra's poisonous blood. His intention was only to graze the centaur, and so distract him from Iolaus, but the loose bowstring made the arrow fly wildly. High up into the air it went. When it came down - thunk - it went into the knee of Cheiron. Immediately the king fell to the ground, bellowing with pain. Forgetting their differences, the centaurs, Hercules and Iolaus went to help him. Any other centaur would have been killed outright, but Cheiron was immortal and could not be stopped so easily. Nevertheless, the wound caused terrible agony to the king and, though they worked through the night to try and find a cure for the poison, nothing that anyone could do made it any better. In the morning the old centaur announced that he could not stand the pain. He said that he would travel to find the Titan Prometheus, who was said to have created men back in the times when the Titans still ruled. He was also said to have the power to take away immortality, and this is what Cheiron would ask for, so that he could die and escape the endless pain.

"Don't be too sad for me," he told Hercules, "I have lived thousands and thousands of years. I have seen all the foolishness of men and gods repeated through the ages, and I have grown tired of it all. Now I will welcome a rest that has been too long delayed. For you however," and here his eyes were suddenly sharp and clear, "there will be no rest and no forgiveness. Although I don't blame you for what happened, from now on you will be the enemy of my subjects. You must leave the lands of the centaurs and never return. Go now, while they are still mourning, and go quickly." Sadly, Iolaus and Hercules left the camp of the centaurs, treading through the forest in silence and with heavy hearts. Only when they reached the Erymanthus road and recovered the chariot did they start to talk about their plans for capturing the boar.

Snow was falling heavily when they arrived at the place outside Erymanthus where Cheiron had told Hercules that the boar could be found. Sure enough, without too much searching, they found the beast rooting up food from an open patch of ground. It had been a pleasant, grassy space once, but now it had been ploughed more thoroughly than any farmer's field by a pair of enormous tusks. It might have been covered in a blanket of white snow by now, but the snow was trampled into mud by powerful hooves. The animal lived up to all the descriptions given by the frightened huntsmen who had survived to tell their tales, but Hercules was not worried in the least. Having spent far too long chasing the Ceryneian Hind, because he had been too proud to ask for help, this time he had discussed plans and strategies almost non-stop with Iolaus. He felt well prepared and he knew that they would succeed.

"I think this snow might make things even easier," said Hercules, grinning at his friend. Iolaus was a little pale, having a better idea of his own limits after his encounter with the centaurs, but he swallowed and nodded, even managing a little smile of his own. Then the friends started forward, Iolaus leading the hind and chariot, which clinked and clanked as it bounced over the rough ground.

The boar was confused when he saw this odd trio approaching. Usually people ran away from it, or tried to creep up and surprise it. These three were just walking up, as if they were out for a stroll. Should he charge them? Should he stay? In the end, he decided that it was better to be safe than sorry, so he turned and ran off, hiding in a thicket of trees, where he was sure the strangers couldn't reach him. This was just as Hercules and Iolaus had planned. They positioned themselves carefully on one side of the thicket then, at a signal from Iolaus, they let loose their secret weapon. Iolaus banged his spear on his shield - crash, crash, crash. Hercules shouted at the top of his voice. Even the hind joined in, bellowing loudly and stamping her hooves on the ground. The din was tremendous, and it was certainly enough to frighten the boar half out of its wits. The fearsome beast panicked and raced out of the other side of the thicket... straight into a deep snowdrift. Just for a few moments it struggled to break through the drift, but this was more than enough time for Hercules. He jumped on the animal's back, pinning it to the ground as it roared and struggled to reach him with its tusks. Iolaus now unloaded the clanking cargo from the chariot - lengths and lengths of strong chain, which he used to wrap the boar up tight. When he had finished, the beast was so well wrapped that it could not move a muscle. Only its eyes, swiveling in their sockets, showed that it was still alive.

Not wanting to leave any animal, however ferocious, tied up like that for long, Hercules and Iolaus loaded the animal onto the chariot and headed back to Troezen as quickly as they could. The hind pulled them with supernatural speed, despite the heavy load, and the wind whistled round Iolaus' ears, chilling them to the point where they felt like they would snap off. Even so, they pressed on all through the night and arrived back at the city in the morning, where one of the gate guards went off to fetch the king. When Pittheus strode out onto the plain beyond the city gates and saw the boar, he was horrified. Because it wasn't moving he thought that it was dead and that Hercules had failed the challenge. He ran forward and started to loosen the chains, but as soon as it felt its bonds slacken the animal showed its real power. It jumped to its feet, knocking the king flat, and would have been away if Hercules had not been quick to dive on it again and hold it, while Iolaus refastened the chains.

Satisfied that Hercules had indeed completed the challenge, Pittheus was now faced with another problem. His experience had shown that there was no way he could let this beast roam freely, as had been his original plan, but it was cruel to leave it chained. First he had it put in a field with a strong fence about it, but the boar knocked the fence down in only a few minutes. Then he had it put in a cage, which was better than the chains but still did not allow it any room to run about. Finally Hercules solved the problem. Working with the city engineers, he drained the moat around the palace. They reinforced the walls and planted trees and bushes at the bottom, to make a suitable habitat. When all was ready, the boar's cage was lowered down into the moat and the door opened with a long pole. Immediately the creature rushed out and, having been confined for so long, ran around the moat a hundred times in its joy to be free. In only a few short days it became a favourite of the citizens. They came to see it playing in its new home, and many brought it gifts. Soon the boar became the mascot of the city, and to this day the palace guard have a picture of a boar painted on their shields.
The Fifth Challenge: The Stables of Augeias

The next challenge came not from Zeus, or even from Pittheus, but from a simple farmer. Hercules was enjoying a few days of rest. It was not so long since his capture of the Erymanthian Boar, and he was not too worried about the passing of time, as he still had several months in which to complete the remaining challenges. In a few more days he would probably have become restless and impatient, but for the moment he was content to enjoy this rare time of leisure. Having spent a good deal of time in the baths, he had decided that it would be a good day to go hunting and had risen early, setting out with the first light of dawn. True, many animals would be hibernating during the winter, but he was confident of his skill, and, at worst, he would have a chance to explore more of the countryside around Troezen. Now, however, he was beginning to have second thoughts. It was already afternoon, and despite walking to the very edges of Pittheus' kingdom, he had not seen a single animal worthy of his arrows. The woods seemed unnaturally still and quiet, his own footsteps sounding loudly in the still, cold winter air. Beginning to sense that the day would not be a success, Hercules was about to turn for home when a change in the wind brought a terrible smell washing through the woods. Surely, thought the hero, this could not be natural. Maybe there was a monster to fight. It was certainly worth the time to investigate, so following his nose he set off to find out the source of this foul stench.

Hercules had not gone far when he came across a man gathering wood. The man looked thin and hungry, and his clothes were threadbare and patched. Nevertheless, he seemed honest, and he called out a friendly greeting when he saw Hercules.

"Good day to you," called Hercules in return, "I am trying to find out where that stench is coming from, do you know anything about it?"

"Stench?" asked the man, looking confused, then he seemed to remember, "Oh, that stench! You see, we get so used to it round here that we don't notice it anymore, but now you mention it, the smell is particularly bad today."

"But what is the cause?" asked Hercules, puzzled that the man was so unconcerned by the revolting smell, "Is there some hideous monster? Maybe an entrance to the Underworld spewing fumes from the fires of Hades himself?"

To his surprise, the man laughed at this, "No monster or Underworld," he laughed, "just the dung from the cattle of the world's richest man!"

Now, Hercules could not believe this, and he said so. He had been around cattle all his life, but he had never smelt anything like this. So the man took him to see for himself what was causing the stench, and although Hercules saw with his own eyes, it took a while before he really believed what he was seeing.

"My king, Augeias, may be the richest man in the world, but he is too mean to pay anyone to clear away the dung of his cattle, so it just builds up in the fields," said the man.

They had come to a wall that marked the edge of the cattle's grazing land. Inside the wall the field was carpeted in cow pats, maybe even two or three deep, and the cattle they could see were wading around in their own filth. The smell was so bad now that it curled Hercules' nose hairs.

"You think this is bad," said the man, seeing the look on Hercules' face, "you should see the stables." Then he looked suddenly serious, "I'm afraid it's more than a joke for those of us who live here. I used to be a farmer, but the land is so polluted now that I can't make anything grow. Those cattle are blessed, if you can call it a blessing, they never suffer from sickness or disease, despite the terrible conditions. Things can only get worse, and then we'll all starve."

Hercules returned to Troezen deep in thought, and when he arrived at the palace he went straight to see Pittheus to ask if this could be his next challenge. The king heard Hercules' plan and agreed without any hesitation. It was a noble act, to rid the people of this foul pollution and to teach a thoughtless king the error of his ways. The only problem was that Iolaus had gone on a trip of his own and would not return for several days, but Hercules decided that the challenge could not wait. He readied himself for an early start the next morning and dreamt of the impossible task he must accomplish.

The next day Hercules headed back to the borders of Pittheus' kingdom. This time he moved with a purpose, running all the way and arriving at the stinking fields even before the sun had burnt the morning mist from the ground. Seeing once more the terrible state of the fields made Hercules itch to go and confront Augeias, maybe he would just beat some sense into this cruel king. However, that was not the plan he had agreed with Pittheus, and so he kept out of sight and started to make a careful survey of the land. The philosopher king had called it reconnaissance. To Hercules it felt a lot like spying... or maybe it was like stalking a dangerous beast.

With this thought in mind Hercules warmed to his task, feeling the excitement of the hunt running through him. Every time his concentration or patience threatened to fail, he would once again imagine that he was tracking a fearsome enemy and that the least failure in his preparation would lead to defeat. In this way he gathered all the details he would need the following morning for his planned confrontation with the thoughtless king. That evening, tired from a good day's work, Hercules settled down to sleep.

Of course, being a man of action, Hercules had not been satisfied with just looking. He had moved some rocks here, dug a little channel there, weakened a wall or two and even stacked some fallen tree trunks in a useful place. In particular, he had spent quite a long time by the river, which ran down into Augeias' kingdom from the mountains to the north. Anyone passing by who was familiar with the channel would notice how it had been narrowed at one point, causing the waters almost to overflow the banks. They would probably think that it was caused by a rockslide from the cliffs above. They would not consider that it could be the work of an immortal hero who was sleeping, hidden, nearby.

The next morning Hercules was up early and headed down to the main town, where he knew he would find Augeias. Sure enough, as he entered the town, he saw the king straight away. There was no mistaking his fine dress and arrogant bearing, as he instructed his son in how to be successful as a king.

"You must be up early every day," he was saying to the boy, as Hercules approached, "if you are not there to watch over them then the peasants will not do their work. They are lazy by nature, and if they were allowed, they'd turn me into a pauper by staying in bed late and avoiding their duties." He stopped his instruction when he saw Hercules approaching, casting a disapproving eye over this stranger, who looked like a savage in his lion skin cloak.

"And who might you be?" he asked, "We have no charity for vagabonds in this town, if that's what you've come for. People must work here if they want to be fed." Of course, this made Hercules feel angry inside, but he had expected exactly this kind of welcome, and so he controlled his temper easily.

"That's good," he replied, "because I've come to work. In fact, I've come to do the hardest day's work that anyone in this kingdom has ever seen." Augeias simply raised an eyebrow at this, so Hercules continued, "I've seen that the land around here looks very good for farming, very valuable," he let the last word hang in the air, knowing about the king's great greed, "except," and Hercules paused again for a second, "except that no-one would part with a single copper coin for the whole kingdom, the way it is now. Who'd want fields that are knee deep in cow pats? Who could grow anything in that?" Now Hercules knew that the king was not stupid. Augeias knew that the dung from his herd was poisoning the countryside, but he was too mean to pay anyone to clear it away, so he was all ears as Hercules continued. "I can clear all the dung, from all the fields, and the stables too, and I'll do it all before the sun sets today."

"And what would you want in payment for this impossible task?" asked Augeias, not quite sure if he was talking to a trickster or an idiot.

"If I succeed, I will take twenty of your cattle as payment," said Hercules, "if I fail to complete the task before the end of the day then you owe me nothing." Augeias thought about this. He was sure that what this stranger was promising was impossible, so he didn't believe he would have to give up a single one of his cattle. On the other hand he looked like a strong, healthy man, so he would certainly be able to clear some of the dung during the day. The greedy king thought he couldn't lose, he would just get a day's work done for free.

"I agree," said the king, "you may start whenever you are ready." He was surprised when Hercules didn't move, he had expected that he would run off immediately. Instead, Hercules turned to the king's son.

"You, what is your name?"

"Phyleus," replied the young man.

"Then, Phyleus, you are witness to our bargain. You will see that I complete my part, and then you will make sure your father keeps his promise." Now Hercules turned to go, but he had not gone very far when he came near a group of cattle, grazing at the edge of the town. Among them was a large white bull who, because of his cloak, mistook Hercules for a lion and charged at him. When any other man would have fled, the hero stood his ground and, catching the bull by the horns, first brought it to a stop and then forced it to the ground. Augeias, seeing this display of strength, began to have doubts about the bargain he had struck. He sent men to follow Hercules and to report back on what he was doing. The first messenger arrived back after about an hour and his news was just confusing. The stranger was wandering about the countryside, doing not much of anything. True, he had moved some huge rocks, displaying almost inhuman strength, and he had dug around in the ground, but he seemed to work with no clear pattern or reason. The next report was more worrying.

"He is damaging your property," announced the breathless messenger, "he has broken down the wall around your stables, not just in one place but in two." Now the king decided that enough was enough. This man was meant to be clearing dung, not breaking down walls.

"Saddle my horse!" cried Augeias, "Where will I find this vandal now?" The messenger explained that he had last seen the stranger heading towards the river, so the king rode out with some guards, to make sure that no more damage was being done. He arrived to find Hercules waist deep in the water, one end of a huge tree trunk in his hands. The other end of the trunk was wedged under a mighty boulder that was part of the river's bank.

"Stop right there!", called Augeias, "you've done enough damage for one day."

Hercules did not reply directly he just said, "I wouldn't stay there if I were you, it's going to get very wet." Then he heaved down on the tree trunk and levered the boulder up out of the ground. The force of the water in the river did the rest, rolling the boulder away and overflowing the bank. The king had to move quickly to get clear of the flood, and even Hercules had to jump out of the water before he got swept away in the torrent.

"What have you done", shouted the king above the roar of the water. Hercules calmly led the king's horse to a small hill where they could look out over the surrounding countryside. The water was spreading out fast, sweeping over the fields. Then, carrying the dung with it, it was flowing back into its own channel further downstream.

When they had drained the moat at Troezen, to make a home for the boar, Hercules had carefully studied how the engineers made their plans and how they calculated the way that the water would move. By making just small changes in the landscape, he had ensured that the river would sweep clean the whole land, even flowing into and out of the stable yard through the holes he had made in the wall. Augeias watched all this without a word, he could think of nothing to say, and so he simply gazed in silence as the water did its work.

Eventually, Hercules decided that there had been enough time, and he put the boulder back in its place in the bank. The river returned to its natural course, the flood waters drained away and the land emerged, cleaned completely from end to end. It was just a little after midday, and Hercules had won.

When Hercules went to replace the boulder, Augeias realised that he would have to give up twenty of his prized cattle. He was so desperate to keep his property that, there and then, he came up with an evil plan, and he sent off one of his guards to carry out the terrible deed. Hercules returned and, indicating the newly cleaned fields, asked for the reward that had been promised, but Augeias denied he had ever made such a bargain.

"Very well," said Hercules, amazed by the depths of this man's treachery, "we will go and ask your son, Phyleus."

"I have no son named Phyleus," replied the king, calmly. Hercules was astounded, but sure enough, when Hercules returned to the town, he could not find the young man, and all of the townspeople were too frightened of Augeias to talk to him. In fact the king had banished his son, the guard making sure he was far away by the time Hercules started to look for him. Confronted by such ruthlessness there was nothing that Hercules could do, and so he left empty handed, although the people were secretly grateful to him for his work. Zeus, however, was less forgiving. Displeased by the fact that the king had broken his word, the great god reversed the blessing on Augeias' cattle. From that day forward they suffered from sickness and disease just like any other animals, and the king's wealth steadily declined. By contrast, his honest son prospered, building a kingdom of his own and ruling wisely, always remembering the misery that his father's greed had caused.
The Sixth Challenge: The Stymphalian Birds

After seeing the harm done by King Augeias, Hercules took great care to be especially polite and considerate to all the people he met. There was no new challenge to accomplish, and so he spent his time talking with the varied visitors to the palace, exercising with the soldiers of the palace guard or exploring the city - when he wasn't at the baths, of course. Most of the time he was accompanied by Iolaus, and their favourite topic of conversation was how they might best prepare for the next challenge. Of course, they never reached a decision because neither they nor anyone else had any clue what the next challenge might be.

Then, one day, a farmer appeared at the gates of the palace, begging to see Pittheus. His face was cut in many places, and his clothes were torn. He carried a bronze feather, and all he said was:

"The bronze birds attacked our farm, please save my family."

The guards were not sure what to do. Was it safe to let this man near their king? But while they were still trying to decide, there was a squawk and down from the skies above dived three bronze birds, attacking the farmer from all sides. The two guards kept the birds off, using their shields and spears, but they were not able to drive the creatures away. Finally, they managed to drag the farmer inside the palace walls, where they sounded the alarm. Protected by the walls, they thought that they were safe, until another squawk from above made them look up. Two of the birds had flown over the wall and now hovered above the frightened group. The soldiers readied themselves for an attack, moving in to protect the farmer, who was clearly terrified. This time the birds did not dive down, they held their position by the top of the wall and began to fire bronze feathers, like a rain of arrows, onto their victims. Fortunately the soldiers were well equipped with large shields and were able to shelter themselves and the farmer. Now, however, they were trapped, and what made it worse was that they were trapped inside their own walls, where they were meant to be safe. It was lucky that they had remembered to sound the alarm, ringing the loud bronze bell that hung just inside the gate, and already their call had been answered.

Running around the top of the wall came Hercules, carrying his club, while down from the inside of the palace came Iolaus. Always thinking ahead, he had searched as he ran for anything that might be of use in the coming action. Unfortunately, the only item he had seen on his way was a wide, shallow wicker basket – the type used in the palace for carrying fruit. Now he looked quite out of place, advancing on a scene of battle carrying a basket with the clear intention of rescuing the well-armed, well trained soldiers of the palace guard. The birds sensed this too. They turned to face Iolaus, thinking that he would make an easier victim. This was a mistake, because they turned their backs on Hercules. Having run to the top of the gatehouse, Hercules now took a huge leap towards the ground, swinging his club as he fell. With a thud, he landed by the soldiers, the weight of his impact pushing the cobble stones under his feet deeper into the ground. With a clatter, the body of one of the birds landed next to him, crushed by the blow it had received. Shrieking, the remaining bird voiced its anger, and intent on revenge, it dived straight towards Iolaus. The bird had tucked in its wings, extended its neck and held its beak straight out, so that it flew like an arrow towards its target. Iolaus was caught in the open, with no protection, and it looked like this living missile would pierce the young man right through the heart. In desperation, he used the only thing he had to hand, holding the wicker basket in front of him like a shield. Just before the bird hit, he closed his eyes tight, concentrating on the strength of his arms, waiting for the impact. When it came, Iolaus was sent staggering backwards, and he opened his eyes to see the beak of the bird snapping open and closed, still trying to reach him. Except the bird could not reach him. Its head had gone right through the basket, but its body was too big, and so it was now stuck halfway through. Hercules now arrived and, grasping the bird's head and body, went to wring its neck.

"Wait", shouted Iolaus, making Hercules pause and shoot a puzzled look at his friend. The young man took a few breaths to regain his calm, before continuing, "We should take this to Pittheus, so that it can be studied. We need to know more about these things."

Hercules nodded, and released the bird, handing it and the basket to the soldiers.

"Take this and the farmer to the king, he will know what to do," said Hercules, "I will stay and guard the gate until reinforcements arrive."

While the odd looking group departed for the throne room, Iolaus and Hercules went to inspect the body of the bird crushed by Hercules' club. A shout from one of the soldiers stopped them halfway.

"There was a third," came the shout carrying through the air, "be on your guard."

Now Iolaus became very nervous, scanning the skies for any sign of danger, until the body on the ground gained all his attention. The bird had been crushed by the club's blow, and it had also cracked open when it hit the hard cobbles. From the broken body there now flowed a small amount of vile, black liquid that stank most terribly, and scattered about on the street were all sorts of little cogs, gears and springs. Hercules gave the bird a little nudge with his foot and more tiny metal parts spilled out. The two friends looked at each other, neither really understanding what they saw. Finally, Iolaus took off his cloak and began gathering the bits together, being careful not to get the black liquid on his skin. There was more here that Pittheus should see.

"The third has gone," said Hercules, making Iolaus jump.

"I wonder where?" he asked.

Hercules looked up, as a contingent of the palace guard arrived to take over at the gate.

"Maybe it's gone to get reinforcements as well," he suggested, making Iolaus shudder. Suddenly he was keen to be indoors.

By nightfall no more birds had arrived, and the palace was a buzz of activity. After the farmer had calmed down a little, he was able to tell his story. He and his family owned a farm on the borders of the kingdom, a long way from other people, close to the mountains and swamps where evil creatures were said to live. The land was not very fertile, and sometimes in the nights they heard animals, or something, prowling around the house, but they were tough and determined folk, and they worked hard to make the place their home. Ten years they had worked that land, and they no longer believed the stories people told of monsters in the area... until a week ago a bird had arrived.

It had sat in a tree, watching the farmer and his animals. The farmer hadn't liked the look of it and had driven it off by throwing stones, but not before he had been wounded in the arm by one of its brazen feathers. So two days later, when he saw a whole flock of the birds approaching, he spared no time in getting his family and animals indoors. At first they thought that they could just stay inside until the birds went away. Then they realised that the birds were not going anywhere, and that they were running out of food and water. The farmer knew that he must go for help, and kissing his family goodbye, he took their only horse and left the farm at a gallop. By some miracle they broke through a flurry of feathers and beaks, and the trusty farm horse showed a speed that was incredible for its age and size. When they were only a few miles from Troezen, however, the beast could go no further, and the farmer had continued on foot. This was when he realised he had been followed, and he'd had to run like a sprinter to get to the gates before the birds tore him to pieces. He begged the king to help him rescue his family before they starved, trapped inside their own house.

The wise men, Pittheus' friends, had also been busy, and when a council of war was held, they were asked to report on what they had found. A thorough examination had been made of both the live bird and the crushed one. The news was not encouraging.

"It seems that these birds are indeed made of metal, and they appear to be entirely mechanical," began one old man in a cracked and hesitant voice, "we waited to see if they would run out of power, but I'm afraid to say that they seem to be sustained by some kind of sorcery that is beyond our understanding. They might stay active forever." He hesitated and looked around the room. His eyes fixed on the captain of the guard as he continued, "Their metal bodies are difficult to cut, so swords and spears are not very effective weapons against them. An arrow, if fired with enough strength, would pierce their armour, and as we've seen, they can be crushed or their necks can be broken... if you can catch them."

At this point, Iolaus quietly left the room. Hercules caught him on the way out.

"Where are you going?" he asked, "Your quick thinking and good sense might be needed here."

"I have a plan," Iolaus replied in a whisper, "I must start at once. Find me in the marketplace when you are ready to leave." And with that the young man was gone. Hercules stayed in the council, hearing how the black liquid that the birds excreted was poisonous to plants and how their feathers were as deadly as an arrow. Eventually, he had had enough.

"Have you nothing useful to tell us," he said, interrupting the old man. Some in the room were shocked by his rudeness, but Pittheus understood what Hercules was saying. Time was important here, the farmer's family was trapped and needed their help. The king shot a questioning glance at the wise men, who shuffled around until one of their number found the courage to speak.

"These machines are perfect copies of real birds," he began, "maybe too perfect." Hercules looked at him, not understanding, and so he continued, "They behave exactly as birds behave, except that they seem to be more aggressive. Maybe this is something we can use against them." Hercules seemed unimpressed and was about to cut in when Pittheus spoke.

"It is clear that we must rescue the family, and then we must rid this land of these cursed birds. Hercules, you have your next challenge. Captain," the captain of the guard saluted smartly as he was addressed by the king, "you will provide every assistance. Leave only enough men to guard the city, the rest are to be put at Hercules' command. You will leave in the morning."

As the sun rose over the city walls, Hercules and the palace guard were indeed ready to depart. They had also found Iolaus, exactly where he had said he would be. When Hercules and the captain of the guard arrived at the marketplace, they were amazed to find it as busy as on a festival. Everywhere they looked there were people who were weaving baskets, wide and shallow baskets that reminded Hercules of shields. They must have been working through the night, because there were already piles of these baskets placed around the square. Just as they were about to ask one of the weavers what was going on, up ran Iolaus. He saw the confused look on the face of Hercules and started to explain.

"I saw how the bird got caught in my basket. If we equip each soldier with a wicker shield then, when the birds attack, they'll get trapped just the same."

So on their way down to the city gate, all the soldiers passed by the market square and picked up one of the special shields. Then, as Hercules and the captain had planned during the night, they split into three groups. One, led by the captain, would head straight for the farm to rescue the family. The other two would go and try to find where the birds had come from. Hercules would take one group to the north, where the borders of the kingdom were guarded by a range of mountains. Iolaus would take the final group to the south, keeping to the coastline. If they found anything along the way, each group was accompanied by a fast horseman who could go and alert the others. Otherwise they would all meet up again at the Stymphalian swamps, which sat between the mountains and the sea.

It was the captain who found the birds first. While Hercules and Iolaus had an uneventful day, he had marched his men at double speed, and by evening they came within sight of the farm. At first it looked deserted, and they feared they might be too late, but then they spotted the shapes of the birds, sitting dead still on the roof of the farm and in a nearby tree. The captain ordered his men to form a turtle, with their bronze shields interlocking to create a solid barrier all around and above the group. In this way they advanced towards the farm under the watchful eyes of the birds. If they could have got to the farmhouse door like this, then they might have rescued the people inside without a fight. As it was, they had not gone too far before there was a squawking and a flapping and the birds rose into the air and flew towards them. As the captain had suspected, at first the birds hovered above the soldiers and fired their feathers. These fell like an iron rain on the wall of shields, creating a terrible din inside but without doing any harm. Now the squawking grew louder, and the captain got ready to spring his surprise. Looking through a gap in the shields, he saw the birds getting ready to dive. At the last minute, he shouted his order.

"Switch shields! Switch shields!"

As one body the soldiers dropped their bronze shields and held up the woven shields instead. Crash, crash, crash, went the birds, as they smashed into the wicker. One soldier screamed in agony as a bird's beak pierced his arm, but all the others found themselves faced with the heads of one or more of the birds, trapped in their shields. As they had been instructed they wrung their necks, ripped the bodies free and readied themselves for the next assault. Two more times the remaining birds tried to smash a way through the wall, but both times they were caught in the same way. Finally, those that were left turned and flew away. As soon as it was clear, the captain ran to the farmhouse, where he found the farmer's family, hungry and thirsty but otherwise unhurt. They stayed for the night at the farm, and the next morning, the captain sent the family back to Troezen with a small group of guards. The rest of their party carried on towards the swamps, all feeling a lot more confident now that they had faced their enemy and emerged victorious.

Exactly as planned, the three parties of troops now converged on the swamps from different sides. Hercules from the mountains, Iolaus from the coast and the captain of the guard in the middle. It took a little while for them to meet up because of a thick mist that hung over the swamp, sometimes making it difficult for the soldiers to even see the men marching in front of them. Iolaus, for one, was very relieved to see the others. More than once he had led his troops into the swamp, and they'd had to retrace their steps as they found themselves ankle deep in mud. Furthermore, although they hadn't seen any birds, evil cries and shrieks had never been far away, echoing through the mist. Iolaus had, therefore, become convinced that the swamp was the home of these dangerous creatures, and for the whole morning he had clung tightly to his wicker-work shield, expecting an attack at any moment. The captain of the guard noticed his white knuckles as they approached each other. "Don't worry, son," he told Iolaus, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard, "without fear there is no bravery." This made the young man feel a little better, and he was able to concentrate on the council of war that now took place.

"As we came down from the mountains," began Hercules, "we had an excellent view over all of the swamp and to the sea beyond. It is clear that the swamp is where the birds have made their base. I saw at least a dozen myself, as they flew up above the blanket of mist. I thought of shooting them down with my bow, but they disappeared again too quickly."

"So, we must go in and deal with them at close quarters," said the captain of the guard, made bold by his victory at the farmhouse, "if we leave them here, then they will soon start to strike deeper into the kingdom, maybe in greater numbers."

"We went into the swamp," replied Iolaus, "by accident," he added quickly, as he saw the disapproving look on Hercules' face. "The ground quickly becomes too waterlogged for a man to walk through, we would sink into the swamp and make easy targets."

A scouting party was quickly arranged, and they reported back that what Iolaus said was true. They had also looked to see if there were any clear channels for a boat to pass through, but the swamp looked truly impassable by foot or by boat.

"How would we have built a boat anyway," grumbled Hercules, frustrated to be so close to his enemy and yet not able to strike at them, "we're soldiers, not carpenters!"

"That's only partly true," answered the captain of the guard, pride showing in his face, "we are a modern army and many of the men are trained in carpentry, and some in engineering. It there is a need, this body of men can build siege engines, forts and even bridges."

"You could build a bridge across the swamp!" blurted out Hercules, suddenly interested, but the captain shook his head slowly.

"The area of the swamp is too great," he answered, "and it takes a long while to build a bridge. The birds would simply move to different areas of the swamp, where the bridge didn't reach." He thought a bit longer and added, "We could drain the swamp, it might take months but it would be effective..."

"I've got a quicker way!" burst in Iolaus, his eyes bright with excitement, "Do you remember what you told me, Hercules? What one of the wise men said? About how these things were mechanical, but behaved just like real birds. Well, when I was a child and we wanted to drive away flocks of birds we'd use wooden rattles. They found the noise so frightening that they never came back to the same place again."

"Do you think you could show my men how to make these rattles?" asked the captain of the guard, catching onto the idea, "We passed plenty of woods near here, and our carpenters work fast when they're given a task." So Iolaus and the troops set to work, finding wood, making rattles and planning how to give these birds a surprise that they would never forget. Hercules, however, stomped around moodily. He knew that the plan would work, but he did not think that his part in it was great enough to justify this being one of his twelve challenges. It wasn't until he finally sat down and calmed himself enough to think clearly that he remembered his trip down from the mountains. There had been a place, a cliff right at the edge of the swamp, where he'd had an excellent view over the entire area. After having a word with the captain of the guard, and grudgingly accepting a rattle from Iolaus, he took a specially picked group of soldiers and headed back up into the mountains.

By the time Hercules and his group had reached their vantage point at the top of the cliff, the sun was already sinking in the sky. They could see the glow of small fires burning around the edges of the marsh, the agreed sign that the soldiers in that area were at their posts and ready. Hercules counted eight fires, two more and everyone would be in position. He and his men now had to work quickly to prepare themselves. They each chose a good spot, near the edge of the cliff and stuck arrows in the ground around themselves, so that they would be within easy reach. The ninth fire was lit, and Hercules looked around, shouting words of encouragement and grinning broadly to show the men he was not afraid. Then he saw the spark of the tenth fire sending its glow through the carpet of mist. He raised his rattle and spun it vigorously, it's clicking call echoing across the stillness. Almost immediately, and from all round the edges of the swamp, came the answering calls of a hundred other rattles. The noise, bouncing off the cliff, was unbelievable, and one or two of the men clamped their hands to their ears. Not Hercules. He dropped his rattle and grabbed his bow, knowing what would come shortly. Around him the other men also notched arrows, taking his lead. Then it started.

The birds, scared by the noise, had flown round and round the swamp to find a place where they could escape, but they were surrounded on all sides. Now they took the only option left, and began to fly upwards, breaking out of the mist and rising above the din. In a cloud they appeared, only to be met by a hail of arrows from Hercules and his men. These men had been selected as the best archers in the palace guard, and now they showed their skill. They themselves moved with a rhythm that was almost mechanical, plucking arrows from the ground and launching them at the startled birds. True, some arrows bounced off the armoured skin, and some birds escaped, flying out over the sea, but many were skewered and fell to earth, their bodies disappearing into the swamp below. Finally it was over. Every archer had exhausted his supply of arrows, and the last of the birds were disappearing, with all the speed they could muster, over the horizon. The soldiers then regrouped, as had been agreed, to make camp for the night.

"Those things will remember this place, and this kingdom," said Hercules grimly, as he sat with Iolaus round one of the camp fires, cooking their evening meal, "I don't think that they will ever dare to return. I feel now that I have played a worthy part in this challenge."

"But, Hercules," answered Iolaus, cautiously, "do you not think Zeus will be angry with you for using your weapons again? Shouldn't we just have let the birds fly away and make their home somewhere else?"

"You say 'birds'," growled Hercules, "but they are not anything of the sort. I have harmed no living thing today, just evil machines that would have caused great suffering wherever they went." He paused, then went on in a gentler voice, "No, I do not fear the anger of Zeus. He too understands that not every challenge can be overcome by quick thinking and clever words." Iolaus felt a little insulted by this, although he didn't think that Hercules had meant it that way, but instead of arguing he gazed thoughtfully into the fire as he ate his food. Part of him agreed with Hercules, you could not solve every challenge in the world in a peaceful way. Not every challenge... just most of them.
The Seventh Challenge: The Cretan Bull

When the victorious troops arrived back at the city, they were in fine spirits. However, they were no longer in fine military order. They were all tired, some were still caked with mud from the swamp and many carried bits of metal bird as trophies or souvenirs. They entered the city in a long ragged line, laughing and talking of what they had planned for their next day off, but the holiday mood changed as they approached the palace. Standing by the gates, watching them approach with looks of undisguised loathing, was a group of three strange and fearsome warriors. They carried spears that glittered in the evening sunlight, and they wore elaborate armour, decorated with gold and silver. Except for their eyes, which constantly scanned the crowd of soldiers as if trying to pick out the very scruffiest, they did not move and stood ramrod straight. On each of their shields was a picture of a double headed axe, and this told the captain of the guard all he needed to know.

"What's the meaning of this," he shouted, forcing his way through the gathering ranks of his men to stand in front of the three strangers, "since when did the palace of Pittheus require a guard from Crete. Where are the men of our own land?" The three warriors said nothing, staring ahead with their jaws locked firmly closed.

"We're here, sir!" shouted a voice from above. The captain looked up, to see two of his own men peering down at him from the top of the palace wall. As he watched he saw more men emerging from behind the parapet, each one carrying a bow in one hand and a woven shield in the other. "The high ground seemed best, in case those birds decided to make another visit," continued the soldier on the wall, "but our new friends here were too proud to join us. They decided to stand very still, in the open, like great big shiny targets."

"The ambassador of Crete is inside," rumbled one of the warriors, finally breaking his silence, "we will protect the gate until he is ready to leave."

"Your choice," murmured the captain, "just watch out for any deadly, mechanical, armoured birds. We think about a hundred of them got away."

And with this he called the rest of his men to enter the palace. The Cretan warriors clearly did not believe him at first, then they saw the bits and bodies that each of the men carried as they filed past and through the gate. By the time Hercules and Iolaus came through, bringing up the rear, the three were scanning the skies nervously and keeping their backs close to the stone wall.

"An ambassador from the island kingdom of Crete," said Iolaus, once they were into the palace, "maybe we should head for the throne room, this could be our next challenge."

Hercules agreed, and they left the soldiers behind, although the captain's angry shouts could still be heard echoing through the courtyards.

"I want every man cleaned up and ready for inspection. I want patrols on the streets to reassure the people. Tell those fools on the wall that the birds have gone. I want those salt slurpers to see what a real modern army looks like!"

Catching this last sentence, Iolaus shot a questioning glance at Hercules. The young man was clever enough, but he had not travelled so far as his friend, or lived as long, and he had never heard of 'salt slurpers' before.

"Crete is an island kingdom," Hercules explained, "and they rule a large area because they are good sailors and build fine ships. No-one can match them at sea. The rumour is that they spend so much time at sea that they have learnt how to drink sea water."

"But drinking sea water sends you mad!" burst out Iolaus.

"Well, some say that the Cretans have found the secret of drinking sea water and not going mad, so they call them 'salt slurpers'," finished Hercules.

"And what do the others say?" asked Iolaus, sensing that the story wasn't finished.

"The others say that there is no secret and the sea water does send the Cretans mad, but, as they're all mad to begin with, there's no way to tell the difference!"

Hercules let out a huge booming laugh, just as they were entering the throne room. He cut it short as he took in the scene of stately elegance that met his eyes, but still the echoes rumbled round the large room.

Three pairs of eyes now studied Hercules, each showing a little of the thoughts of the person observing. One pair of eyes belonged to Pittheus, who was sat at one end of a table set for a banquet. He was dressed in his usual robes, which suddenly looked plain and rough in comparison to the man sitting opposite him. Pittheus' eyes showed pleasure at seeing the two friends, and also some regret at having to confront them with such as welcome as this. The second pair of eyes belonged to the Cretan ambassador, a man who represented Minos, the king of Crete. He was dressed in such rich and ornate robes that you would think he were the king and Pittheus was simply a poor guest, for some reason being honoured by dinner with his ruler. The ambassador's eyes showed nothing but scorn and disappointment at the disgraceful appearance and rowdy behaviour of the two newcomers. The final pair of eyes belonged to a man who stood beside the ambassador. His eyes were blank as he looked at the pair, as though he were not even allowed to have thoughts of his own. Nevertheless, he continued to observe Iolaus and Hercules, even as he replenished the ambassador's plate, cut up his food and refilled his wine goblet.

"Hercules! Iolaus!" called Pittheus, once the echoes of laughter had died down, "You must be tired after your latest challenge. Please, sit with us and take some refreshment. I trust you were successful?" Hercules merely nodded in answer to this question, but Iolaus gave a short report of their latest adventures, which left the ambassador looking like he didn't believe a word of what was said. With the formalities completed, Hercules and Iolaus took their own seats at the table. Hercules heaped his plate, filled his glass, drained it and filled it again, before beginning to eat noisily, chewing with his mouth open and showing a simple pleasure in the good, plentiful food. Iolaus had to kick him under the table to get his attention and, looking up, Hercules finally noticed that everyone else was staring at him - Pittheus with a look of mild upset, the ambassador with a look of utter horror. Trying to recover the situation, Hercules closed his mouth, thought furiously and, with a sudden burst of creativity, grabbed his glass and raised it in a toast.

"I would like to raise a toast to... to...," Hercules struggled to remember the correct way to address an ambassador.

"Your Excellency!" hissed Iolaus, under his breath.

"I would like to raise a toast to Your Excellency," began Hercules again, "I would beg your forgiveness for my rustic ways and would wish you every happiness in your visit to Troezen." Then, thinking the toast not quite complete, he added, rather weakly, "The baths are excellent!"

Although not a polished or refined performance, this show of welcome and respect seemed to mend some of the harm done by Hercules' previous behaviour. Nevertheless, Pittheus thought it high time to step in and take some control of proceedings.

"His Excellency has not made a long journey, and taken time from his other important affairs, simply in order to enjoy a visit to our poor and simple city," the king explained, "he has come on important business, as a representative of King Minos himself, and this business involves you, Hercules. Your Excellency," he continued, turning his attention to the ambassador, "might I prevail upon you to explain?"

Hercules didn't understand this last sentence, but it didn't matter as the ambassador now started to talk.

"Hercules, you are greatly honoured," began the ambassador. He spoke in a proud voice, and everything about him showed the distaste that he felt in having to speak to a man he viewed as no better than a barbarian. He barely even glanced at Hercules as he continued, preferring to stare into the distance as he spoke.

"King Minos, the immortal and all powerful ruler of Crete, has decided to provide you with the opportunity of displaying your reverence for him by completing a challenge."

Hercules opened his mouth to object, but Iolaus kicked him under the table again, allowing the ambassador to continue uninterrupted.

"For some weeks now the countryside of Crete has been subject to attack and devastation by a bull of unnatural size, strength and abilities. The bull is pure white, as ferocious as Ares, the god of war, and capable of breathing fire. Of course, Minos could easily defeat even such a fearsome beast. Such a task would use only a fraction of his awesome power. But by extreme good fortune - on your part - the immortal king was brought word of your brave deeds, and he has decided to help you fulfil your quest by providing you with a challenge."

At this point Pittheus chose to assert his rights as king and agent of Zeus.

"Your seventh challenge," said the king, looking Hercules firmly in the eye, "is to kill the Cretan Bull and so spare the Minoans from further devastation."

Hercules was almost sure that Pittheus winked as he said these last words, but it was so quick that he might have been mistaken. In any case, he was now seized by the excitement of his latest mission and was keen to be away.

"How do we get there? When do we start?" he asked.

"You will have the honour of travelling in one of the mighty ships of the Minoan Navy," answered the ambassador, "and we will set sail on the morning tide."

"Well, Iolaus," said Hercules, looking to his friend, "we had better start our preparations, there is no time to lose."

At this the ambassador coughed a little.

"King Minos has extended the invitation only to Hercules," he said, "I have instructions only to take one passenger."

Hearing this Hercules controlled his anger only with a great and visible effort, his face turning from red to beetroot purple.

"It would be an unbearable dishonour if I were to undertake this challenge without my loyal and faithful -"

"- servant," cut in Iolaus, getting to his feet and moving round the table to fill Hercules' cup.

"You have been too generous, master, in allowing me to sit at table with you. The ambassador has misunderstood our relationship. I'm sure he would have no objection to a hero travelling with his manservant." Hercules looked up sharply, but Iolaus silenced him with a glance before continuing, "Pray, continue your meal, master. I will make all the necessary arrangements and will come to wake you at first light."

With this he walked out of the throne room, leaving Hercules to enjoy the rest of his food in an uncomfortable atmosphere. After what seemed like an age, Pittheus rose and wished them a good night, which was the sign that they could all leave, and Hercules made his way back to the room he shared with Iolaus. There was his friend, busy with preparing the few things that they would take with them on their voyage.

"What do you mean by pretending to be my servant. I am honoured that you are my friend." said Hercules angrily. But, as usual, Iolaus had wise words of council to give.

"Where we are going," he explained, "they have no time for honour or friendship. They believe that some men are better than others, that some men should serve masters. Let's pretend that we believe the same, so that they accept us more easily. It may be something to use to our advantage before the challenge is complete."

Although not happy with the situation, Hercules saw the reason in it. Together they finished the preparation and then retired to bed, where they both slept the deep and dreamless sleep of the truly exhausted.

The next morning passed in a whirl of hustle and bustle as everything was loaded aboard the Cretan ship, final preparations were made and the vessel set sail on the first leg of its voyage. To begin with the sailors kept close to the land, making sure that they were within reach of shore for as long as possible. The wind was favourable during this time, and they made good progress. Soon it was time to change course and make a straight heading for Crete, leaving the shores of Greece to fade into the hazy air behind them.

Hercules found that he enjoyed travelling by sea, the swaying of the deck beneath his feet was relaxing, and the sweep of the sky over his head seemed wider and grander than it did on the land. Iolaus, however, was having a different experience. Although the wind was mild and the sun shone above them, he stood white faced, as if glued to the ship's rail, a look of stern concentration on his face. Every so often the lurching in his stomach would become too much, and he would have to lean over the side of the ship to be sick into the sea. This caused much amusement for the sailors, who whooped and cheered every time. They did not mean to be unkind, for them this was a rite of passage, the test to see if a new member of the crew would be able to bear the hardships of a life on the sea.

"Don't worry, lad," said one, patting Iolaus on the shoulder, "I was the same myself when I was a boy and took my first sea voyage. Now look at me, only five years later and already the pride of the Minoan Navy," and he thumped himself proudly on the chest to show how sturdy he had become. Iolaus looked at him, seeing his wrinkled skin, rough hands and thinning hair, thinking how old this man looked, and how hard his life must have been in those five years.

"I'm sure I'll be fine soon," was all he said in reply, "in fact I feel better already. Is there anything I can do to help?" This was met with a chorus of cheers, which made Iolaus grin with pride before his churning stomach forced him back to ship's rail.

As it was, by that afternoon Iolaus had only just recovered enough to eat a few bites of food, and that was only because the wind had dropped to almost nothing, and the sailors were considering turning to the oars. It was fortunate that they were already preparing to drop the sail, because at that moment the lookout gave a frantic cry.

"Squall! Squall coming on fast, off the port side! Lower that sail!"

Iolaus now looked out on the left hand side of the ship, and sure enough, he could see a white smudge on the horizon that showed where the sea was being whipped up into crashing waves. The patch of rough water was moving fast towards them, and it was a race against time for the sailors to make the ship safe before it hit. Already it had closed half the space between them, and now Iolaus could see a remarkable thing. There, in the middle of the foam, he was sure there was a horse's head, then the flash of metal in the sunlight, now a pair of hooves trampling the sea, then the head and shoulders of a man. After only a few more moments it became clear what was approaching through the waves, and Iolaus forgot all about seasickness as he stared out at Poseidon, god of the sea, riding his chariot towards the ship, the two horses at the lead pushing through the waves and sending fountains of water high into the air. The chariot circled the ship three times before coming to a halt just in front of the bows, the sea all around now boiling with turbulent water and unseen monsters. The ship, this mighty vessel of the Minoan Navy, now seemed no better than a toy, held as it was under the power of the sea.

"Where is that slinking worm, Minos?" bellowed Poseidon, staring down from his chariot at the sailors on the deck. His eyes flashed with fire, and his beard seemed to be made of the very foam of the waves that surrounded him. For a long while no-one answered, until Hercules found the ambassador, skulking below decks, and dragged him to the bows.

"You are the messenger of King Minos, aren't you?" asked Hercules, "What do you think he would say if he knew you had dishonoured him before a god?"

Reminded of his duty in so direct a way, the ambassador managed to pull himself together enough to give an answer, although he was clearly shaking inside his fine robes and could not tear his eyes away from his own feet.

"King Minos is on the island of Crete," he stuttered, "I am merely his humble ambassador, sent to Greece on a very minor matter of state."

"Liar!" shouted back Poseidon, and the waves lashed at the boat more ferociously, making the wooden timbers creak.

"I am an ambassador," came the trembling reply, "you cannot hurt me, it would not be honourable."

"Now you speak of honour," said the sea god, his voice rumbling with hollow laughter that rolled like thunder over the ship, "but what honour is there in your minor matter of state? You would fetch my nephew, in my own brother's name, in order that he may kill my ambassador!" Hercules heard Iolaus gasp as these words were spoken, and although he did not understand what was being said, he now stepped forward and knelt, facing Poseidon.

"Uncle," he said, "I have no intention of harming any of your subjects, I –"

"Yes, yes, yes," Poseidon cut him short, "of course I understand that you were all too easily tricked into this journey. Come, join me on my chariot, and I will try to explain things to you in a way that you will understand."

With this the horses moved forward, so that the chariot came alongside the ship, and Hercules leapt across the remaining gap to land at the side of the god. As soon as he was aboard, Poseidon twitched the reins, and the chariot moved off at a gentle pace, its wheels cutting through the sea with no more sound than that of a babbling brook. Hercules glanced back towards where Iolaus still stood on the deck of the ship, and Poseidon, sensing his unease, spoke in a new and calmer voice. "Don't worry, I will soon return you to your friend, and I will even let you complete your mission. Except now, it will be according to my instructions and not Minos'." Then he patted Hercules on the shoulder and began to explain.

King Minos, explained Poseidon, had become rich and powerful because of his navy. He now had so many ships that no other king dared to challenge him, and this had made Minos arrogant. New titles had been added to his name and new decorations to his palace, but lately he had gone too far, he had started to call himself the ruler of all the seas.

"Can you imagine," burst out Poseidon, getting carried away in his anger at this part of the story, "his ships are just a few little specks floating on the surface of the water. It is like a flea calling itself the ruler of the dog." Then he calmed down and continued in more measured tones.

Poseidon had asked the other gods of Olympus for permission to destroy the navy of Minos, but they had decided that this punishment was too great for the crime of boastfulness. So instead he had sent an ambassador, to remind Minos of his power. From the white foam of the surf he had created a magnificent white bull...

"A bull?" interrupted Hercules, "That seems like an odd choice for an ambassador."

"Yes," agreed Poseidon absently, "I would have preferred to send a dolphin, much more intelligent you see, but Minos has his palace on the land so a sea creature would not do."

He went on to explain that all the bull had to do was to emerge from the water, proceed to Minos' palace looking majestic, and then accept the apologies of the king. After that it would stay in Knossos, the capital city of Crete, to remind everyone of the power of the sea, maybe taking part in parades and festivals, but generally enjoying a quiet life and the adoration of the people.

"It seems like such a simple plan," said Hercules, "I can't see how things could have gone wrong."

"Precisely my thoughts," replied Poseidon, "but I didn't then understand the sheer wickedness of Minos, and his total lack of honour."

On seeing the bull Minos was indeed overcome with awe and wonder, at least at first. Then he instructed his soldiers to capture the bull and to put it in a cage. They treated it very badly. There were even rumours that they conducted strange and cruel experiments, creating a monster that Minos now kept hidden beneath his palace. Of course, the bull did not allow himself to be treated like that for long, he broke out of the cage and escaped into the countryside, setting fire to half the palace on his way. Minos and his whole army could not recapture the bull now that it was free, but he wasn't man enough to apologise, so when he heard that there was a hero in Greece who could perform impossible tasks he decided to send for him.

"I must go back to Troezen," said Hercules, as soon as he had heard the full story, "I cannot complete the challenge if it means harming your ambassador and helping Minos."

"Not so hasty, nephew," replied Poseidon, "remember that I said you would complete the task, but not in the way Minos wants." The god winked at Hercules, and he was reminded of the wink that Pittheus had given when he was set the challenge. "You are not to kill the bull, although you must subdue him. Instead, the bull must be brought to Greece. It will be a sign that the time of Cretan dominance of the sea is almost at an end, and that a new power will arise to take their place."

"That won't be easy," said Hercules, thinking aloud, "I don't think I'd want a ferocious, fire-breathing bull rampaging around my ship on a long voyage."

"You and your mortal friend have solved trickier puzzles than this one," replied Poseidon. Then, from his robes, he produced a large shell, which he handed to Hercules, "take this. It contains the song of the sea. If you hold it to the bull's ear then he will know that you are acting on my instructions. After this the bull will be your friend and will follow your commands as eagerly as the most obedient horse. The rest is up to you. Now, hide the shell, we have almost returned to your ship."

Sure enough, Hercules saw that they had come round in a wide circle, and now approached the Minoan vessel from the rear. By this time the sailors had recovered from their shock, and had found arms and armour with which to equip themselves. Poseidon laughed quietly at the sight, calling out as he brought the chariot alongside, "You have no need of your weapons, you will all die soon enough, but not today and not at my hand." Then, once Hercules had jumped back to the deck, he turned the chariot and raced away over the waves, without another word.

Everyone was bursting with curiosity to find out what Poseidon had said, especially the ambassador, but Hercules was very careful about the information he revealed. He desperately wanted to talk to Iolaus so that they could come up with a plan, but there was no privacy on board the ship and he could not be sure that they wouldn't be overheard. By the time they reached the shores of Crete, just after noon the following day, Iolaus was as ignorant of the conversation as everyone else, and Hercules had had to decide his next steps by himself. They left the ship with many friendly words between Iolaus and the sailors and made their way up the hill to the city of Knossos, where Minos waited in his palace. The ambassador was carried in a chair by four servants, while Hercules and Iolaus were expected to walk. Iolaus found it odd to walk on dry land again, and he could still feel the rolling motion of the sea beneath his feet. The sailors had called it 'getting his sea legs' and had said that the feeling would go after a day or so, but would come back quickly once he was aboard a ship again.

By the time they had arrived at Minos' palace, a large crowd had gathered to see the great hero. There were some cheers when Hercules came into view, but most people kept craning their necks to see who was coming behind. They had lived so long with the finery of Minos and his court that they expected a hero to be dressed in shining armour, they could not recognise the true strength that now passed so close in front of them. The king himself was no different, when finally Hercules and Iolaus were allowed into his presence. He sat on a high throne, peering down at his guests with evident disappointment. For a long time he said nothing, then finally he broke the silence:

"You'll need help, evidently," he said, "so I will put all my armies under your command."

"I don't need your armies, they'll only get in my way," said Hercules, in a rude tone of voice that made Iolaus glance at him in surprise, "they've been trying to catch the bull for weeks and have nothing to show for their ridiculous efforts. Why on earth do you think I'd want their help?"

Just as Hercules had planned, Minos was furious.

"You insult my army? Very well, let's see how you manage on your own. You'll not receive an ounce of help from me. I shall simply wait for your burnt, blackened body to be brought before me, and if by some chance the bull does not kill you then good luck getting back to Greece, no Minoan ship will take you."

With that, the king sat back in his throne and waved his hand to dismiss them. From the shadows several guards emerged. They took Hercules and Iolaus out of the throne room and marched them through the palace until they found themselves outside the gates once more. This time there was no crowd waiting, just people going about their everyday business. Now they were alone, Hercules was finally able to tell Iolaus about his conversation with Poseidon and Iolaus understood why Hercules had refused any help from Minos.

"So," said the young man, as they walked out of the city and into the countryside, "once we've found and captured the bull, all we have to do is to sneak it off the island and back to Greece. Have you any idea how we do that?"

Hercules shook his head, "Not a clue."

That night they slept under the stars. Fortunately Iolaus had brought some blankets, although there was nothing to eat for dinner and nothing for breakfast either. However, they soon found out that this didn't matter. The next morning they discovered that, outside the capital city, the people of Crete were as hospitable as any other folk. Soon they had been given breakfast, and had also gathered plenty of information. No-one thought much of the efforts made by Minos to capture the bull. It seemed that the soldiers sent after it treated their time in the country as a holiday, eating and drinking whatever they could find in the villages they passed through, and always managing to be somewhere else when the bull appeared. This was not difficult to achieve, because everyone knew exactly where the bull was to be found at any time. Hercules and Iolaus simply had to follow the directions of the people they met, and later that day they found themselves looking across a large stream and into a field of daisies, where the ambassador of Poseidon was quietly grazing.

"You'd better hold the shell," said Hercules to his friend, "it looks calm enough, but I wouldn't want this to get broken."

With that he waded through the stream, and began to walk calmly across the field. The bull, however, was not happy to have its peace disturbed. It turned on the newcomer, eyes flashing red and smoke rising from its nostrils. Hercules continued to move steadily forward as the bull pawed the ground with its hoof, then suddenly launched itself into a full-blooded charge. Man and beast met in a cloud of dust, which blocked Iolaus' view for what seemed like an age. When it cleared, he saw that Hercules had hold of both the bull's horns, and had brought it to a halt. Iolaus was sure that he would have forced it to the ground there and then, except that the bull opened its mouth and sent a jet of flame crashing against Hercules' body. The hero held on for a few moments, his lion skin cloak protecting him from the flame, but then he let go of the horns and sprinted back to the stream. As he dived into the shallow waters, rolling this way and that, clouds of steam rose all around him. Clearly the cloak could block the flames, but did nothing to stop the heat.

Having soaked his lion skin with water, Hercules was ready to try again. He advanced on the bull, who had been staring at the hero's antics without concern, but now dipped its head and prepared to charge again. This time Hercules was faster, he sprinted forwards, so that he reached the bull before it had got up its full speed. Grabbing both horns he was already twisting the beast's head down towards the ground when it let forth another stream of fire. Steam rose around the pair, and a bellow reached Iolaus' ears, whether from the man or the bull he could not tell. Soon it was all over. The steam cleared to reveal that the bull was on the ground and Hercules was lying across its neck, stopping it from getting back to its feet. At once, Iolaus ran forward and held the shell to the bull's ear. When it heard the song of the sea, the bull became calm, and with a glance to make sure his friend was ready to run if need be, Hercules let the animal get back to its feet. Just as Poseidon had said, it was now as docile as a dairy cow, and it stood waiting for instructions.

That night Hercules, Iolaus and the bull slept, hidden in a small wood near the harbour where they had arrived only the day before. Iolaus was up before dawn, and went down to the docks to find a ship to take them home. The plan was simple. He would try and find the sailors with whom they had travelled to Crete, and see if they could be persuaded to take them back to Greece. It was not long before he arrived back, and the news was not good.

"I've asked everyone, and they all give the same story," Iolaus explained, "no Cretan ship will dare risk displeasing Minos by taking us aboard." Hercules' face fell, "But not all the ships in the harbour are Cretan. There is one Greek ship, a trading galley, and the captain is willing to give us passage... for a fee."

For a few seconds Hercules had looked hopeful, but now his face again became a mask of despair.

"We have no money," he grumbled, "and nothing of value. We are going to be stuck on this island forever, unless we grow flippers!"

"You forget," continued Iolaus calmly, "we have a rich patron at Troezen, waiting for our return. He will pay our fare, and if we lie? Well then, the captain can seize our cargo, this fine prize cow!" Hercules looked at Iolaus as if he were mad, then smiled and shook his head. The young man was either brilliant or lucky, but either way they had no other transport off the island, so he simply asked for the details of the plan.

Not long after, an odd trio of travellers approached the harbour. There was a young man, naked except for a loin cloth and a pair of sandals. Next to him shuffled an older man. He looked sturdy, but walked stooped over with his face turned to the ground. A simple woollen cloak covered his head and body. The third traveller was an enormous brown bull. It seemed healthy, but its skin was cracked and blistered, and on its back it carried a mangy pile of furs. The three headed straight for the harbour wharfs, where a Greek trading vessel was moored, and many eyes followed them as they passed.

The disguise had seemed quite good when they had set out, and without the bull it might have worked, but Iolaus could tell that they were attracting too much attention. The beast was just too huge to pass unnoticed, and the mud they had used to turn it from white to brown was quickly drying in the hot sun, dropping away in big flakes at every step the bull took. Still, they were almost at the ship now, and soon they would be out to sea and away from danger.

"You said it was a cow," called an angry voice, and Iolaus looked up to see the captain of the trading galley standing by the gangplank.

"It's a big cow," said Iolaus, defensively.

"It's an enormous cow, with horns," replied the captain, "and it's going to be extra."

Iolaus thought about arguing, but decided it would be better just to get the bull aboard quietly, so he simply nodded and headed for the gangplank.

"And where do you think you're going?" asked the captain, blocking his way.

Iolaus looked at him blankly, before answering, "To get the cow safely below decks so we can set sail."

The captain shook his head, "We'll not be going anywhere today. There's all the cargo to load, and we'll not do that before the evening tide. Don't worry, we'll be off first thing in the morning."

Hearing this, Iolaus couldn't help but glance up towards the palace, fearing that soldiers might already be on the way to capture them. Being a shrewd man, the captain guessed what that glance meant.

"I'm no friend of that King Minos," he said, "and I'd like to help a fellow Greek, but business is business and I'm not leaving without my cargo."

"Maybe I can help," rumbled Hercules, speaking for the first time. He threw off the cloak that he'd borrowed from Iolaus and revealed his bulging muscles. Straightening now to his full height, he walked to where four sailors were struggling to lift one of the boxes stacked on the quay. Lifting it easily out of their hands, he jogged up the gangplank to deposit the box in the hold. All those around stopped and stared, their jaws dropping open in amazement... all except one. A small man with a pointy face like a rat, slunk away and began to run up the hill to the palace. No-one noticed him, they were all too busy watching and cheering as Hercules performed ever more improbable feats of strength, loading the cargo in double quick time. Soon everything was aboard, including Iolaus with the bull, and the captain gave the orders to begin final preparations for departure. There was still plenty of time to catch the evening tide \- unless something else caught them first. Down from the palace on the hill came a troop of horsemen, stirring up a cloud of dust as they came. Iolaus saw them first and shouted a warning, then the sound of thundering hooves reached the harbour, growing louder by the second.

"Everyone aboard the ship," shouted Hercules. The sailors hesitated at first, then at a signal from the captain they obeyed.

"We're facing the wrong way," said the captain to Hercules, as they passed on the gangplank, "you must turn the ship to point at the harbour entrance, then we'll have a chance with the oars."

Hercules nodded, then stepped onto the quayside and finished untying the ropes that held the boat in place.

The captain paused and looked back before continuing, "You know you won't be able to get aboard after you've pushed us off?"

Hercules nodded again, and the captain ran up onto the deck of the boat just before his men pulled up the gangplank.

Now Hercules was the only man left on the quay. He threw the rope aboard and gave the bows an almighty shove. Slowly the front of the boat drifted away from the side, and Hercules worked his way to the stern, pushing with all his might whenever he found the side of the galley within reach. On board, he could see the sailors rushing to fetch the oars and finding their seats, so as to be ready to row. The hoof beats sounded louder now. Although the horsemen had not yet reached the bottom of the hill, it seemed like the galley was turning with agonising slowness. When the bows were almost pointing to the harbour mouth, Hercules decided that he could wait no longer. He undid the stern rope, placed his hands against the back of the boat, braced his feet against the quay, and pushed with all his strength. Slowly at first the boat inched forwards. The oarsmen were almost ready now, and the captain was poised to give the command for the first stroke. The gap between the ship and the land started to widen more quickly, so that Hercules was left horizontal, his toes on the quay and his fingertips on the stern. He paused in this impossible position for only a moment before, with a splash, he fell into the sea.

"Row!" shouted the captain, looking behind and seeing the horsemen approaching the harbour, "Row for your lives."

The sailors pulled on their oars, and the galley leapt forward. Hercules had given them the best possible start, and now the race was between oarsmen and horsemen. The oarsmen had the shorter distance, as they headed directly across the water to the entrance of the harbour. The horsemen had to ride around the harbour wall, and the stones were too slippery for the horses to go at full speed. Their leader seemed to sense that the race was too close to call.

"Halt. Halt in the name of King Minos," he shouted, but the sailors took no notice and maintained their pace, propelling the galley faster and faster towards the open sea. In a last act of desperation, the horsemen flung their javelins towards the ship, which was even now passing through the harbour mouth, but they were too far away. One or two had the strength to reach the ship, but these bounced harmlessly off the wooden sides, falling down to be lost in the water. Then the trading vessel was in the open sea, where no normal horse could follow, and the sailors were cheering.

"Are we safe?" asked Iolaus.

Hearing the cheers he had emerged from below decks, where he had been looking after the bull. He looked around the galley and stopped, the smile fading from his face.

"Where's Hercules?".

The cheering faded away, and the captain laid a hand gently on Iolaus' shoulder.

"Your friend stayed on the quay to launch the ship. Without him we'd not have got out of the harbour in time. He saved all our lives."

Iolaus ran to the stern, shielding his eyes against the sun and scanning the harbour for any sign of Hercules. Seeing nothing, his body drooped like a rag doll and he sank his head into his hands.

"Hercules. Hercules," he sobbed, "what should I do now?"

"You could – cough – start – splutter – by pulling me in!" came the unexpected reply from the sea behind the galley. Iolaus started, and looked down to see Hercules being dragged through the water in the wake of the ship. He had tight hold of the stern rope, and was slowly pulling himself, hand over hand, towards safety. Now that they saw him, Iolaus and the sailors also heaved on the rope. They were soon dragging the heavy man over the rail and onto the galley, where he fell to the deck, panting. Everyone was overjoyed to see him safe and well. Iolaus grinned broadly as the captain slapped him on the back, and the sailors raised another cheer, but the celebration was short lived.

"Sails!" called the lookout, "Sails to starboard."

Sure enough, there were three ships emerging from behind a headland to their right. Each ship bore the symbol of the double headed axe on its sail. It was a squadron from the Minoan Navy, come to catch them. The captain ran to the steersman, and together they started to turn the rudder to head away from the enemy.

"Sails to port," shouted the lookout again, as another squadron of ships appeared to their left.

Now there was no choice but to steer straight out to sea, and the Minoan ships closed in from either side. The captain and his crew were good sailors, but their vessel was built for trading not for speed, it would not be long before they were caught. Grimly the captain gave orders to trim the sails and to prepare for a fight. He watched left and right as the enemy ships closed in, concentrating so hard that they began to waver before his eyes. He blinked, but still the Minoans looked blurry, and he realised that a mist was descending.

"Captain," cried the lookout, pointing forwards. Although the mist was now thickening fast, he could see the silhouette of a huge man in a chariot, floating on the waves close to the horizon. Seeing a way out, the captain began to bark orders.

"Head for the chariot. Tighten that sail, and everyone, from now on – silence."

Then he stalked over to where Iolaus and Hercules were standing, "The Minoan Navy, Poseidon's chariot, a sea mist with the wind blowing strong and that great white bull. If we live through this then you two have some explaining to do."

Iolaus opened his mouth to reply, but the captain motioned him to be silent. The galley moved on through the water, with only the creak of wood and rope sounding out as it climbed over each new wave. The mist was thick now, and all aboard strained their ears for any sound from their pursuers. For a while there was nothing, then the familiar noises of ships at sea started to arrive, drifting to them over the water. Orders being given, sailors grumbling, the crack of canvas. It was certain that the Minoan ships were near, but the sounds seemed to bounce around inside the mist, making it impossible to tell how many there were or whether they were in front or behind. The sounds came nearer so that Iolaus, who was practically holding his breath in his efforts to be silent, could hear the conversations of the Minoan sailors.

"...could be anywhere in here... quiet, we have to listen for them... steady ahead everyone..."

Suddenly there was a shout, and this time it definitely came from behind them, "I see them, off the starboard bow. We have them, ram them, get alongside."

Iolaus turned to look over the stern, where he was sure now that he could see dark shapes moving in the mist. Any moment, he expected to see the prow of an enemy ship burst out of the fog and crash into them, sending them all to the bottom of the ocean. Now he really did hold his breath, and his heart pounded louder and slower so that he could easily count the beats. One. Two. Three. Four. Before the fifth beat, a tremendous crash sounded from behind them, and a confusion of voices poured forth.

"We got them... board them... "

"That's us, you fools."

"... Glannos, what are you doing on the enemy vessel?"

Clearly two of the Minoan ships had collided and, from the sounds of other crashes, bangs and cracks, some of the others might also have found each other in the mist. Best of all, this was happening behind the trading vessel, which now seemed to pick up speed, as if carried on an invisible current.

On they went, with the sounds of confusion among the Minoan squadrons growing fainter all the time, until they burst forth into the clear, evening light, the mist forming a solid wall behind them. Now it became clear why they were moving faster than the gentle wind should have allowed. On either side of the galley was an enormous fish. Together they held the traders' vessel, pinched between their backs, pushing it forward with the smooth, rhythmic beating of their powerful tails.

"Hold fast, if you value your life," Hercules shouted.

One of the sailors had taken a long spear, and was poised to thrust it down into one of the fish. Now he stopped and looked at Hercules in surprise.

"That fish is not here for you," continued Hercules, "it is here for the ambassador of Poseidon, to speed him on his way."

The man lowered his spear, but still looked confused.

"Iolaus," Hercules sighed, "I think you had better explain."

Iolaus told the traders everything - about Alcyoneus, about the challenges, about the white bull and about Poseidon. All the while, the fish carried them further away from Crete and closer to Greece, and the evening turned into night. Food and wine were handed around, making it a fine and merry gathering.

When the story finished, the captain slapped his thigh and chuckled, "Well, this must be the safest ship that ever sailed. We have Hercules on the crew, and we are carrying out a mission on behalf of Poseidon himself, we should all sleep soundly tonight."

"But how does the story end?" asked one of the sailors, "You have told us only of seven challenges and that leaves," he paused to count on his fingers, "five to go. Do the heroes succeed?"

The rest of the crew laughed at the man for not realising that Iolaus was not telling a story, but talking about what was happening then and there. All Iolaus could think was that the man had not said hero, but heroes. Did he, Iolaus, really count as anything alongside the son of a god?

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the crew were woken by a bump. As they stretched and folded their bedding, they saw that the giant fish had gone, and also that they were now close to shore. One of the sailors noticed a landmark he recognised, and pronounced that they had arrived at Greece, just south of the city of Sparta.

"Those were fast fish," said the captain, "usually the journey from Crete takes two days and we've only been travelling for one night. A shame they couldn't have taken us all the way. I wonder why they stopped here?"

As if in answer to his question, there came a crashing sound from below, and after a few moments, the bull emerged onto the deck. Now it no longer looked quite so docile, and the sailors backed away as they got a glimpse of the ferocious beast it had been when Hercules had first met it. Iolaus stepped forward to calm the beast, but before he could reach it, the bull lowered its head and charged. Without stopping, it crashed right through the rail and landed with a huge splash in the sea. For a second it was lost under the waves, and then it broke the surface and started swimming strongly for the shore. They all watched as it arrived at the rocky beach, turned to face the galley and, as if to say thank you, blew a huge jet of flame from its mouth before disappearing into the trees that lined the shore.

"The men of Sparta are the fiercest warriors in all of Greece," said Hercules, "I think our friend has made a wise choice for his new home. They will worship his strength and his spirit, he will make Poseidon proud."

"That's all well for him," said the captain, "I have a business to run. We had better get to Troezen. Heroes, gods or whatever, I still expect to be paid."
The Eighth Challenge: The Mares of Diomedes

On arrival at Troezen, the captain sent his crew off around the city, to arrange the sale of the goods they had brought from Crete. He himself insisted on going straight to the palace. Iolaus marvelled at the fact that every one of the traders knew their own business and were trusted by their colleagues to make the right decisions on behalf of them all. Yes, the captain seemed to be in charge, but only because the others accepted that he was the best man for that job. Something he demonstrated when they were admitted to the throne room, and he met Pittheus.

"Your majesty," said the captain, bowing low, "thank you for letting this simple trader have the honour of meeting you in person. I'm pleased that I have been able to serve you by delivering Hercules and Iolaus from certain death at the hand of King Minos."

Hercules bristled slightly at this, and Pittheus raised an eyebrow at the man's lack of modesty.

"Although it pains me to raise such a vulgar subject," continued the captain, "my crew would not forgive me if I didn't mention the small matter of the agreed payment."

Pittheus paused slightly before replying, his eyes resting in turn on Iolaus, Hercules and the captain.

"Of course, let me summon my exchequer, the man who deals with the kingdom's money, he will arrange your payment. What was the agreed price?"

The captain mentioned a large sum of money, causing Pittheus to shoot another, sterner glance at Iolaus.

"That seems a very steep price for bringing two passengers from Crete," said the king.

"Three, sire," corrected the captain, "there was also a rather large bull." Now he looked up and held the king's gaze momentarily, defiance in his eyes, "I'll have no man saying that I don't strike a fair bargain. This was the amount agreed, and a small recompense for the loss of my livelihood." Having spoken so boldly, the captain remembered his place and dropped his eyes.

"Your livelihood?"

"Yes, sire," said the captain, "for fifteen years I've traded between Crete and Greece. I know nothing else but that route and the merchants I meet at either end. Now I fear that me and my crew will not be welcomed back as long as King Minos rules."

Pittheus nodded. He understood how close many people lived to poverty and ruin. How one event could destroy the work of a lifetime.

"Let me summon the exchequer," he said, "and I will have a meal brought, we can discuss your problem while we eat."

With this the king left the room, and almost immediately servants arrived to set a table with food and drink. They also brought a second table, which was left mysteriously bare. By the time Pittheus arrived back, the meal was ready and Hercules was gazing hungrily at the plentiful food that had been provided. He did, however, manage to restrain himself until the king had taken his own modest portion before grabbing a plate and heaping it with meats, breads and olives. They had all started eating when the throne room door opened to admit a tall, thin man with his arms full of rolls of paper. He hesitated on the threshold, looking nervous and twitchy, until Pittheus called him forward.

"Ah, Paradees, come in, come in. Please set your charts on this table. Would you like something to eat?"

The man shook his head at this invitation, and shuffled forward to stand by the empty table. Clumsily he started to unroll the papers, dropping some on the floor and struggling to keep the rolls flat. The captain set aside his food, and went to help the newcomer. He had recognised the rolls of paper for what they were, nautical charts - maps of the sea – and he was very curious to find out what they showed.

"T-t-the king has explained y-y-your problem to me," stuttered Paradees, once the charts had been arranged to his satisfaction, "I h-h-have studied the sea routes around Troezen for s-s-some time now and it seems to be an excellent home port for any trading ship."

Iolaus noticed that the man became less nervous as he focused on his subject, and sure enough, his stuttering soon stopped.

"As well as Crete, from here a ship can sail east to Rhodes, south to Egypt or west to Syracuse. However, I believe the greatest riches could be gained by opening a new route through the Hellespont. It is well known that spices from India fetch a high price in Greece, and that the city of Troy controls this trade. The spices arrive in Troy by land, brought by Persian traders using teams of camels and donkeys, which they call caravans. What I have found," continued Paradees, reaching out with his long arms to point out the places and routes he mentioned on the charts, "is that these caravans take a long route, following the southern shores of the Black Sea. A trader who could sail to Colchis," and here he tapped a point on the map near the eastern end of the Black Sea, "could meet the caravans, weeks before they arrived at Troy, and buy the spices at a bargain price."

Paradees straightened up, beaming proudly, but the captain did not look so happy.

"That would be a fine plan," he said, "if it did not mean certain death." Paradees and the others looked confused, so the captain continued, "I take it then that you have not heard of King Diomedes, who rules in that part of the world?" Paradees shook his head. "Then let us sit and pour the wine," said the captain, "and I will tell you a tale so gruesome it will make your hair curl."

Diomedes, the captain began, ruled an area on the shores of the Black Sea that stretched inland almost to Armenia. He had grown rich, over many years, by charging a toll to the caravan drivers for safe passage through his land. They knew that this was the quickest way to Troy, and so were willing to pay a good price for the king's protection, and everyone was happy. To ensure that this situation continued, Diomedes just had to make sure that the caravan drivers had no alternative way of selling their spices - other than making the journey to Troy. So whenever traders landed in his kingdom he would welcome them warmly and invite them to a feast at his palace. After plenty of food and wine, the king always insisted that his guests stay the night, so they would go to their beds and fall fast asleep. This was where things turned nasty. In the depths of the night, the king and his men would creep into the bedroom and slit the traders' throats, taking their bodies to the stables, where his four favourite horses - his mares - would eat them up. No-one ever returned, and no trace of them was ever seen again. The only evidence of these terrible crimes was that the four mares had been driven completely mad by their unnatural diet.

The captain sat back, satisfied that his story would finish all this foolish talk of sailing to the Black Sea, but Hercules and Pittheus were looking at one another with a shared determination. Hercules nodded slightly, and Pittheus made his pronouncement.

"Hercules, your eighth challenge is to stop this barbaric practice and to free the Mares of Diomedes."

Hercules said nothing, but looked at the captain, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"We're not heroes, just traders," he said, "so we'll go to trade with these spice merchants, as long as you promise to deal with the man-eating horses."

"Deal," said Hercules, holding out his hand for the captain to shake, "now, I have a suggestion for our cargo on the outward voyage..."

The rest of the crew were easily convinced to join the expedition. After what they had seen in Crete, they believed that there was nothing that could harm them if they were travelling with Hercules and Iolaus. The new cargo was bought and loaded, fresh water and provisions were brought aboard, and before midday the galley had set sail again, this time heading to the north east. However, almost immediately the wind dropped, and then died away altogether. The galley was left floating in the middle of a flat and glassy sea, and the sailors were not happy.

"They think it's a bad omen," said the captain, "a sign that your luck has run out and that this expedition will be a failure."

"Luck?" Hercules asked, "What has luck got to do with it? Let me show you how a hero makes his own luck. Iolaus, you take port and I'll take starboard."

With this, Hercules sat down at one of the rowers' benches on the right hand side of the galley. Seeing what he was about, Iolaus took a seat opposite him, and both readied their oars.

"We can't row all the way to Colchis," jeered one of the sailors.

Hercules ignored him, and nodded to Iolaus to begin rowing. The first stroke knocked some of the sailors off their feet, so powerfully did Hercules pull at his oar, and the galley shot forward. They were ready for the next stroke, but it still sent a shiver through every timber of the ship. Unfortunately, Iolaus was not so strong. He tried his best to at least do enough to keep them going straight, but with each stroke it became clear that the galley would just be going in circles, with two such mismatched rowers. Still he kept going, although he could feel the tears of frustration starting to prick at his eyes.

"Looks like you could do with a hand," said one of the sailors, settling into the seat beside Iolaus and grabbing the end of the oar. Together they managed to do a little better, and then the benches around Iolaus began to fill up. Three to an oar. Ten oars against Hercules' one.

"Let's see how the big man does against a team," shouted the sailor beside Iolaus, "captain, give us a rhythm."

With the captain beating time on a small drum, the journey really began. The galley seemed to fly across the surface of the water, going straight as an arrow, now that there was equal strength on both sides. After a few hours, Hercules saw how tired the rowers opposite him were beginning to look, and he felt certain that he could keep going for longer. He saw one man droop over his oar, but he was almost immediately replaced by a fresh rower, and Hercules realised that there were more sailors than needed to row. They would have time to rest, while he had to keep going all by himself. Still he was determined and he was strong, and he was not tired yet.

Time went on and Hercules did begin to tire, but so did the sailors. More needed to rest and, for the first time, there were not enough fit men to row, and they only managed to put up two to an oar. It was beginning to look like a real competition, with no certainty over who would win, when the wind began to blow again. The oars were shipped, the sail raised, and then all thoughts of the competition were put to one side as the Hellespont came into sight.

Several of the sailors had heard frightening stories of the Hellespont and its sister channel, the Bosphorus. In order to pass from the Aegean Sea to the Black Sea, a ship had to travel through both these narrow straits, and the crews had to face their various dangers. One sailor told of moving rocks, that would crash together if ever a vessel should try to pass between. Another had heard of currents in the water that ran faster than any river and would toss a boat around as if it were just a toy. Most frightening of all was the story of the eight headed monster that would quietly approach a ship and then snatch sailors from the deck, carrying them off to the rocks where it would eat them in full view of their comrades. So it was a nervous and vigilant crew that entered into the first of those narrow passages, the Hellespont.

Fortunately the stories seemed to have been exaggerated. There were rocks, but they didn't move and were easy for the experienced crew to avoid. The current was strong and they sometimes had to use the oars and the sail to make progress, but the galley was always in control, and if there was a hideous monster lurking in the waters, it didn't reveal itself. Iolaus was secretly disappointed that everything was so normal, while the sailors, who were older and wiser, were very glad of the uneventful passage. Before too long, they had passed through the narrow Hellespont and emerged into the small sea beyond. The sun shone, the wind blew fair, and gulls followed in the wake of the boat, diving down from time to time to grab at a fish. Everyone was in great spirits, and their mood only improved once they had entered the next narrow strait, the Bosphorus, which led to the Black Sea.

Not only was the water calm and the passage easier to navigate than they had expected, but also it was not long before Hercules pointed to a village on the Southern shore and told the captain that this was their first destination. He explained that he had visited this place on one of his previous adventures, and that they would be sure to find a good market for their cargo. Sure enough, as soon as they brought the galley in to the quayside, a small crowd gathered. Everyone was dressed in colourful clothes, some carried musical instruments and they were all in a festive mood. When the captain descended the gangplank, a tall, stout man approached him, beaming from ear to ear.

"Welcome, my friends, welcome to Chalcedon," he said, enveloping first the captain, then the first mate, then Hercules himself in massive hugs, "you are most fortunate to arrive today. Today we are having one of our biggest celebrations. Today is the day when, according to our history, Dionysus first learnt the secret of how to grow grape vines. It is the fifth or sixth most sacred day in our calendar, not quite as important as when Dionysus first created wine, but much more important than when Dionysus conquered India."

"I take it, then, that you are followers of Dionysus," the captain said, eyeing Hercules with what could have been a new found respect.

"Of course, we follow the god of wine," replied the man, "but quickly, we must go to the village square. This is our fourth festival this month and I'm afraid we now have only a little wine left, we must get there before it is finished."

And with this the man turned to go, grabbing the captain's hand and trying to drag him along. But the captain stood fast.

"You're short of wine," he said, "well there's a coincidence. We happen to be taking a cargo of... but no, I shouldn't say as it's already promised to another buyer."

The man stopped and turned around, a look of desperate longing on his face, "Do you have a cargo of wine? Has Dionysus himself sent you to us in our very hour of need?"

"Well... yes," said the captain, looking embarrassed, "but, like I say, we only stopped to rest before the next leg of our voyage. Our cargo is promised to a merchant further to the north. It's a long way to go, but he pays very well for fine Greek wine."

"I should explain," said the man, looking very serious, "that I am the mayor of this village, and you should know that, although we don't work very hard, we have an extremely good location here for trading, and so we are all very rich. I'm sure we could pay you just as well as this merchant. Besides," he added, "this wine will be used to honour Dionysus, someday you may be thankful for the goodwill of the god of wine."

So that was that. The deal was done, and Hercules unloaded all the wine, which was stored in large jars, called amphorae. He took all of these to the village square. All except one, which the mayor insisted the villagers should carry to the square, as it was part of their ritual. Now, Hercules had known that this village was home to the thirstiest people in the world, so he had told the captain to take as many amphorae as the galley could carry. Even so, the villagers drank at such a pace that Iolaus thought they would finish everything, but when dawn showed her first pink rays to the east there was still wine left, and it looked like the festival would continue into a second day. Not wanting to depart from such a merry place, but knowing they had a mission to complete, the traders said goodbye to those left standing and launched their ship once more into the Bosphorus.

The Black Sea, when Iolaus first saw it, seemed poorly named as the waters were a sparkling blue colour under the morning sunshine. Of course, he could not resist asking why it was called 'black'.

"No one really knows how it got its name," said the captain, in answer to the young man's question, "we sailors from the Mediterranean call it black because we know so little about this sea that it might as well be shrouded in darkness. Not everyone calls it the Black Sea, some call it the Inhospitable Sea, but what's in a name, eh?"

Iolaus thought there was quite a lot to the name and he noticed that a lot of the sailors felt the same way. During the day they were nervous, jumpy and irritable. They kept close to the shore, and as soon as the sun began to sink low in the sky, they started to look for a sheltered inlet in which to anchor for the night.

"Why can't we keep going," complained Hercules, "don't you know what a hurry we're in."

But the captain would not consider continuing through the night. He said that they were away from their home waters and did not know this sea at all. To continue would be to invite disaster, stopping for the night was the only safe way. Even when they had anchored, the sailors were uneasy. They sent scouts ashore to look for food and water, and also to see if they could find any evidence of caravans having passed this way. There was food and there was water, but there was no sign of caravans, and when they settled for the night the cries of strange wild animals along the shore kept them awake. This pattern was repeated for two more nights, and the crew became more and more tired. Arguments seemed to start often and for no reason, with blows being exchanged on one occasion, until the captain broke up the fight. This strange sea was testing the team spirit of the traders to its very limits.

The fourth night was different. Because of trouble between the crewmates, and because they had found a suitable anchor, the traders decided to stop early. No-one wanted to keep going and risk not finding anywhere else to spend the night. As usual, a number of the sailors went ashore, in teams of two, to scout out the land around the galley. It hadn't been long when one pair returned, wide-eyed and out of breath.

"We saw them, we saw them," both sailors competed to tell the story to their crewmates, "we went to the east, over those small hills you can see there," one pointed while the other continued, "we were coming down the other side when we heard the sound of a chariot. We hid behind a rock and watched it pass right by. They were terrible," both men shivered at the memory, "four huge horses, eyes flashing fire and foam at their mouths like a rabid dog. The man in the chariot looked just as bad and twice as mad. He was huge, almost a giant, and he had this stare..."

The men shivered again, unable to find the right words to capture the horrors they had seen. Hercules, however, needed no words. He was busy fastening his lion skin cloak and gathering his weapons, until a look from Iolaus made him pause.

"Surely this must be Diomedes," said the hero, "let us be after him, and this challenge can be finished before nightfall."

"He who acts in haste, repents at leisure," said Iolaus.

Hercules looked at him blankly for a second, then turned back to loading arrows into his quiver.

"Wait," continued Iolaus, "think for a moment. Diomedes is a king, and kings have armies. We have no way of knowing how many soldiers we will face besides the man himself, who seems to be a giant."

"Almost a giant," mumbled Hercules, upset at being held back.

"Even so," replied Iolaus, "wouldn't it be better to spend one single day to ensure victory, rather than to risk failure by rushing into unknown dangers?"

The look on Hercules' face suggested that he would be quite glad of a few unknown dangers after his long sea voyage, however he stopped his preparations and sat down facing his young friend.

"Very well," he said, "what shall we do with this single day?"

"Did I say day," said Iolaus, "I should have said night."

It was the middle of the afternoon on the next day, when the trading ship came sailing along the coast to a new anchorage. This time the spot had been carefully selected, looking down over a long low plain to the magnificent palace of Diomedes in the distance. Anyone looking closely would have seen that the sailors were all exhausted, and that their clothes were grimy with earth and mud. Of Hercules and Iolaus there was no sign - they were asleep below decks recovering from their long night and preparing for another. Soon, however, they were woken by the captain.

"It's just as you expected," he said, "a rider is approaching from the palace."

By the time the rider arrived at the galley, Hercules and Iolaus were on deck and prepared to greet him. The rider dismounted and bowed respectfully. He saw before him two men of noble bearing and dressed in rich clothes. The older man, obviously the owner of the ship, had braided hair, a neatly trimmed beard and black markings around his eyes, as was the fashion in Egypt. Beside him stood a younger man, maybe his son as he was dressed and decorated in much the same way. Both wore many gold rings and other ornaments - further evidence of their wealth and status. It had taken hours for Iolaus to transform Hercules from a barbarian in a lion skin to a wealthy trader, and they had almost fallen out when Hercules had realised how much of his beard had gone, but the results were clearly worth the trouble.

"My lords," said the rider, bowing even lower, so that Iolaus had to stop himself from giggling, "my master, the great King Diomedes, noticed your arrival, and begs you to accept his hospitality. Even now he is preparing a great banquet in your honour, and will shortly send a chariot to bring you to him."

Having delivered his message, and without waiting for any form of reply, the man mounted his horse once again and galloped off back towards the palace. Hercules and Iolaus, pleased that their disguise had worked so well, sat down to wait for their transportation.

"I don't like it," said Hercules for what must have been the hundredth time, "going into that palace without my club or bow or cloak. The man means to kill us."

Iolaus shook his head, and repeated patiently what Hercules already knew.

"we are rich merchants going to a banquet under the protection of a king. Rich merchants don't carry weapons, let alone big clubs, and they don't wear lion skins. Stick to the plan, and we will be victorious."

Hercules wanted to argue, but couldn't find the right words, and while he was still thinking the galley's lookout called to say that the chariot was approaching. The captain came to see them off.

"What happens if his army attacks us before you return?" he asked, nervously licking his lips.

"Diomedes will not send his army to attack you until he is sure we, your leaders, are dead," replied Iolaus, "if the army comes before we do, then our plan has failed and you should set sail and save yourselves."

Hercules was surprised by the calmness and determination with which these honourable words were spoken. Once again he regretted that his adventures were leading this young man into danger, and vowed that he would protect Iolaus - no matter what.

When they arrived at the palace, Diomedes himself was there to greet them. The horses that drew their chariot had been quite normal, but the man who stood before them now was not. He was certainly a man, although so tall that some might call him a giant, and he looked very strong. As they said hello, Iolaus searched the man's face for evidence of the madness the sailor's had described. Looking closely he noticed that, although Diomedes was all smiles and kind words, no emotion touched his eyes.

"Tell me, what brings such fine gentlemen to my humble kingdom?"

Diomedes' question brought Iolaus back to the moment, and he realised that he had been staring rudely. Fortunately they were well prepared, and Hercules was already answering the question - saying that they were merchants hoping to open a new trade route.

"How marvellous," replied Diomedes, with what seemed like genuine warmth, "so few ships are willing to brave the dangers of the Black Sea, and we could do with more visitors from the wider world. It gets so dull here. But let us not stand here talking," he continued, putting an arm around each of their shoulders and guiding them into the palace, "let me show you around my home and then we will feast."

It seemed to Iolaus that these last words had evil undertones, but their host seemed very jovial, and he soon lost himself in the wonders of the palace, which was very large and very ornate. They walked from room to room for what must have been two or more hours, never visiting the same place twice, until they came to a larger corridor in which Iolaus recognised the smell of horses.

"Now," said Diomedes, "I have bored you enough with this tour. Let us go to eat and drink. I would love to hear some stories of your travels."

He made to turn down the corridor, to take them back into the main body of the palace, but Iolaus hesitated and looked the other way.

"What's down here?" he asked. Diomedes' face darkened, just for a moment and then his smile returned.

"Just the stables," the king answered, "nothing of interest."

"Oh, can we look," Iolaus cried, pretending excitement, "I do love horses. Do you have any racing horses?"

Once again a shadow passed over the king's face, and once again he controlled himself.

"My stables are very ordinary," he said, "but I promise that before you leave I will personally take you there. For now, however, we must go and eat while the food is fresh and hot."

This time there was no mistaking the menace in the king's words, and Iolaus felt the grip around his shoulder tighten as he was firmly guided towards the banqueting hall.

The banqueting hall, when they arrived, was prepared for a feast. Hercules and Iolaus were given jugs of water, with which to wash their hands and feet, before being invited to recline on low couches around the main table. There were other guests, members of Diomedes' family and household, so that there were about ten diners in all. Once the king had made himself comfortable on the couch at the head of the table, everyone began to help themselves to the marvellous array of dishes laid out before them. There were foods of all colours, tastes and textures, and Iolaus found himself wanting to try everything - each mouthful seeming more delicious than the last. Hercules was also tucking in with gusto, when he received a very welcome interruption. A servant had arrived to pour the wine.

"It's not something I would usually say," whispered a familiar voice in Hercules' ear, "but don't drink the wine, it's drugged."

Hercules turned in surprise to look at the serving girl who was leaning over to fill his cup. His surprise was doubled when he saw that, although she had a woman's body, her face was that of the mayor of Chalcedon.

"Dionysus, it can only be you," whispered Hercules in return.

"Yes, indeed," replied the girl with the mayor's face, "you were kind enough to help out my followers, so now I repay the kindness. Such a shame to waste good wine."

Then the vision disappeared, and Hercules was left staring at the serving girl, her face back to normal, as she finished filling his cup and returned to the kitchens. Hercules saw that Iolaus was about to take a mouthful of his wine, and grabbed his wrist with lightning speed. Although he succeeded in stopping his friend drinking the drugged wine, the sudden movement had attracted the attention of Diomedes, and Hercules had to think fast.

"Sorry, my boy, but please taste the larks' tongues before the wine - otherwise you will spoil the flavour,"

Iolaus gave a puzzled smile, but put down his cup and reached out for the dish that Hercules had mentioned. As soon as Diomedes' attention was elsewhere Hercules, mouthed one word to Iolaus – 'poison' – and the young man went as pale as a sheet, realising how close he had come to disaster.

The feast continued for many hours. Several times the table was replenished with different courses, until Hercules thought that he would burst. All the while the guests were kept entertained by dancers, poets, singers and actors, so that the time passed quickly, and all the while Hercules and Iolaus were quietly pouring their wine into whatever pots or dishes they could find. Even so, it was a tired pair of adventurers who were led to a bedroom, once the banquet was finished. As soon as the door was closed, however, Iolaus leapt into action. He used pillows and blankets to make it look like there was someone in his bed, and began to go over the plan once again with Hercules.

"They mean to wait until we are asleep, and then they will come and slit our throats," he said, "whatever happens we must stay awake, and then we can surprise them instead."

"ZZzzzzz," replied Hercules.

Iolaus turned to find that the big man had already fallen fast asleep on his bed, and was snoring soundly. He was so angry that he somehow found the strength to pick up one side of the bed, so that Hercules tumbled onto the floor with a bump.

"What, what, what!" he mumbled as he picked himself up off the floor.

"I was just explaining that if we fall asleep we're dead," said Iolaus, coldly, "now help me get your bed ready, and then let us prepare our ambush."

It seemed like they had to wait a long time, crouching in the darkness on either side of the doorway. Every now and again, Iolaus would poke Hercules to make sure that he was still awake, and every now and again Hercules would poke Iolaus - just to get his own back.

Eventually they heard soft footsteps in the corridor outside the room, and in crept three men - dressed all in black and carrying long, cruel looking knives that seemed to shine in the darkness. Seeing the figures in the beds, and thinking that their prey would be fast asleep after the drugged wine, the men crept forwards - two towards where Hercules should have been sleeping, and one towards Iolaus' bed. They did not reach their destinations. With one bound, Hercules leapt from where he had been crouching, to land behind the two men advancing on his bed. Before they knew what was happening, his great hands were on their heads, which he brought together with a crack. At the same time Iolaus brought a bronze water jug crashing down on the head of the third man. All three fell to the ground. The battle lasted no longer than a heartbeat, and now stage two of the plan could begin.

Quietly they made their way down to the stables. It was dark now and the palace was as big as ever, so they took several wrong turns before arriving at the wide corridor that smelt of horses. Once there, they just had to follow their noses, and soon came out into a wide room with stalls on either side. There were many horses here, not just the ones that they were trying to find, but the four favourite mares of Diomedes were unmistakable. They did not sleep in stalls of their own, instead they had a whole section of the stables dedicated to them. There they lay, and now that they were asleep, they were as calm as any other horses - only their huge size betraying that they were special. Their size and the fact that they were all bound with iron chains to a huge bronze trough. Quickly and gently, Iolaus bound their mouths with rope, shuddering as he looked at the trough in which he was sure the horses were used to eating their gruesome meals. Then he turned his attention to the chains. They were thick and strong, but maybe with Hercules' strength and a bar or lever, they could break the links.

"See if you can find something we can use to force these links apart," he whispered to Hercules, but as they both started to look, shouts of alarm came echoing down the corridor from the palace. Clearly the fact that they had made it out of the bedroom alive had been discovered and now it sounded like everyone was being woken to hunt them down.

"No time for the subtle approach," Hercules said, and strode over to the huge bronze trough, next to which the mares were now stirring. Bending low, he wrapped his arms around it, and with a huge roar, lifted the massive weight onto his shoulder. The horses were now fully awake. Their eyes were red with the flames of madness, but they did not seem to know how to react to such a superhuman display of strength. For a moment they were confused and Iolaus, who had grabbed a whip from its hook on the wall, took the opportunity to get behind them and drive them, as if they were pulling a chariot. With Hercules running in front, carrying the trough, they left the stables and headed back to the ship. Behind them more and more lights were being lit in the palace, and the unmistakable sounds of men readying their arms came drifting through the night.

It was a long way back to the galley, and it felt even longer to Hercules. His arms ached from carrying the trough, which was now biting cruelly into his shoulder with every stride he took. Bravely he ignored the pain, trying to keep up the pace, his muscles bulging and the veins standing out all over his body. They had made it half way before Iolaus saw anyone emerge from the palace. At first it was men on foot, which didn't worry him too much, but then a group of men on horseback burst through the stable doors, and the giant figure of Diomedes was unmistakable among them. On the flat plain the horses moved quickly. Diomedes and his men started to close the gap, and Iolaus realised that they would not make it to the galley before they were overtaken. Hercules seemed to sense this too, but he was going as fast as he could already and there was no more that he could do... they were sure to be caught.

It was fortunate that Hercules and Iolaus were not alone. Ahead, where the plain ended, they could see the captain peering out from his hiding place, waiting for the right time. The arrangement had been to wait until Hercules and Iolaus had made it to the slightly higher ground near the ship, but with Diomedes so close behind that would no longer be possible. Iolaus was just close enough to see the look of apology in the captain's eyes as he gave the signal to his men, and then he heard the smashing of wooden barricades and the rushing of water. From either side, huge rivers of sea water flowed onto the flat plain. They met, with a crashing of waves, just as Diomedes and his soldiers were passing, knocking the men from their horses and causing great confusion. Iolaus had planted his feet firmly and braced himself against the flood, but Hercules had kept going, forcing his way through the waters that twisted and turned around his knees. Now a group of sailors waded out to meet him. They handed him his weapons and took the trough from him. With a look of grim determination, Hercules turned and headed towards where Diomedes was getting back on his feet.

"Get to the ship," said Hercules as he passed Iolaus, "make ready to sail if things go badly."

Then he strode onwards.

Diomedes had now recovered himself and was also moving forward. He was so tall that the water only reached his calves, so it caused him no difficulties. His men, however, were not so lucky. All of the soldiers following on foot had turned round and headed back to the palace, with some of the horsemen copying them. Others of the horsemen had tried to reach higher ground - only to find that the sailors were hiding there, with bow and arrows, forcing them to retreat. A small group of the bravest men now stood in the centre of the flood, swords drawn, waiting to see if their king would beat Hercules.

The king was tall and had a long sword, which made it difficult for Hercules to get in close enough to land a blow with his club. Although the sailors had brought his weapons, they had forgotten his lion skin cloak, so he had to be careful of the sharp edges of Diomede's sword. It seemed like stalemate, and all who watched wondered who would get the upper hand. All except the four horses. The sight of their cruel and hated master had driven them to a frenzy and they strained against their chains. The thin ropes that bound their mouths had already snapped, and one of the horses had bitten a sailor who got too close - he was grabbed by the arm and would have been dragged in and eaten if his crewmates hadn't pulled him out of the mare's grip. Hercules stepped under the king's blade and swung at his knees, but he was too slow and the king stepped back, slashing at Hercules' arm and drawing blood. This was too much for the four mares. They dug in their hooves and pulled against the chains until, with a snap, the brittle iron gave way and the horses plunged into the water.

The huge splashing and whinnying of the crazed horses made Diomedes look round, and Hercules saw his chance. He leapt high into the air, springing forward to bring his club crashing down on the king's helmet. Amazingly, the blow did not kill Diomedes, although it certainly made him dizzy, but when he went to attack Hercules - to get his revenge - he found he couldn't move. The sea water had turned the solid ground of the plain into thick mud, and Hercules' blow had driven him down into the earth like a tent peg.

"Farewell, King Diomedes," said Hercules, retreating towards the higher ground, "I leave you to suffer the same fate as many others have suffered at your hands."

"No," cried Diomedes, all his bravery now gone, "please, anything but that. I'll give you anything, just save me from the horses."

These cowardly words were his last, as the four mares arrived and surrounded him, gobbling him up - right to the last morsel.

With their tormentor gone, a great change came over the horses. The red glow in their eyes dimmed to nothing, and the foam around their mouths dropped away. Hercules approached them, cautiously at first, reaching out gingerly to stroke their noses. Finding them friendly and calm, he led them back up to the dry ground, where one of the sailors set about freeing them from the broken remains of the iron chains.

"Should I release them?" he asked when he was finished.

"No," replied Iolaus, "this place will only remind them of unhappy times. Let's take them a little further east. We need to go that way anyway to find a caravan."

So that's what they did, sailing a little way down the coast until they found a likely looking spot. The horses were released, and immediately headed off into the hills to start their new lives. Meanwhile, the sailors spread out into the surrounding country and soon found a wide trail that was clearly a trading route. Sure enough, it wasn't long before a caravan approached from the east, its many camels and donkeys loaded with exotic spices from far away. At first, the caravan owner took them for robbers and called for his guards, but he became much more friendly when he saw the colour of their gold. A deal was soon struck, which secretly delighted both the captain and the caravan owner, although they were each too experienced to let this show on their faces. Hercules loaded the galley with the new cargo, and it was a happy crew that set sail again for Troezen - the place they were learning to call home.
The Ninth Challenge: Hippolyte's Girdle

As their boat came into the harbour at Troezen, Hercules spotted a strange figure waiting on the quayside. It was a man, tall and of noble bearing. He carried his armour on his back, obviously a warrior - always at the ready. But what was strange was his shield. It had an odd lumpy shape to it and it was covered in coarse sack cloth, tightly bound about in leather straps - almost as if to keep something trapped inside. Hercules recognised him at once, even before Iolaus whispered the man's name in amazement – "Perseus!". Indeed, it was that great hero who had defeated Medusa and now had the power to turn whole armies to stone.

"If Perseus is here," said Iolaus, excitement showing in his voice, "it can only mean that we already have another challenge," then, more cautiously, he added, "It must be a very dangerous challenge for Zeus to have sent us a hero of such power."

Hercules said nothing, but he agreed, and deep down even he felt a little nervous.

Perseus greeted Hercules as soon as the galley reached the quay. He told Hercules to come with him to the palace, where he said Pittheus was waiting.

"Have your men make that galley ready for departure," he added, "we will need to be on our way as soon as possible."

"We're our own men, and no-one else's," snapped back the captain, angrily, "but we'll go anywhere with Hercules. He's good for business."

Leaving the captain and his crew to sell their cargo of spices and restock the galley, Perseus and Hercules made straight for the palace. There they found Pittheus pacing up and down his throne room, looking upset and uncomfortable. When the two heroes entered, he became a little more calm and began to explain.

"My daughter is getting married," he blurted out, "she will marry a prince from a neighbouring city. He is a good man, and together they will go out and found a new city of their own."

"That's wonderful news. Congratulations!" Hercules blurted out. He couldn't see what the problem was. Perseus silenced him with a look while Pittheus continued.

"Here, in my city, I have been able to protect her, but what can I do when she is so far away. She is still young, and doesn't see the dangers all around like I do."

Pittheus began to pace again, and wiped away some beads of sweat that had formed on his brow.

"I would like you to bring for me Hippolyte's Girdle. This piece of clothing has magical powers that mean the wearer is immune from all poisons and disease. It will be a wedding gift for my daughter, and it will keep her safe when I no longer can."

"Right," said Hercules, turning on his heel and heading for the door, "consider it done."

Then he stopped as a thought stuck him.

"It would have been better if the challenge had been closer," he said, remembering that Hippolyte, the current owner of the girdle, lived far to the north, at least a week's journey away by sea.

He shrugged and continued to the door - there were still three and a half months left. Then he stopped again as another thought struck him. Hippolyte was queen of the Amazons, a race of female warriors who formed, perhaps, the most feared army in the world.

"Yes," he said quietly, "Zeus means to really test me. He could not have picked a more difficult challenge."

There was an awkward silence in the throne room.

"This challenge is from Zeus?" asked Hercules.

Pittheus looked at his feet while he answered. "Zeus told you that I would provide twelve challenges," said Pittheus, and Hercules nodded to say that this was true, "so if I choose a challenge myself, then in a way, it does come from Zeus."

"Then why do you look so nervous?" asked Hercules.

Again Pittheus looked at his feet, but as he answered he looked Hercules straight in the eye.

"I've always done the best I could for my subjects, and I've never asked one thing for myself... until now."

"No," said Hercules, in a firm tone that made Pittheus look back at the floor, "you are mistaken, great king. Even now you do not ask for yourself, but for your daughter."

Back at the harbour, Iolaus and the sailors had been busy getting everything ready for their departure. The captain had made a good deal with a local trader, and the spices had been unloaded. Iolaus had been busy buying all the provisions they would need for a long journey. The only question that remained was what to take as cargo for the trip. When Hercules arrived back, and explained where they were going there was silence, followed by an excited babble of voices as everyone threw out ideas.

"Jewellery, women love jewellery."

"These are not normal women, they are warriors. What need would they have for baubles and trinkets."

"Weapons then, and armour."

"The Amazons are descended from Ares, the god of war. He blessed them with the skills to make the best weapons in the world - and all our armour is made for men, it would not fit women."

"What about wine? Wine worked last time."

"Aye, wine might work. Everyone loves wine."

"Something else everyone likes. Salt. They like a bit of salt to give flavour to their food."

"And olive oil, how about that? I've heard that the Amazons live so far north that olives don't grow up there. Imagine that."

And so it was decided that they would take a cargo of salt, wine and olive oil. One of these would surely tempt the Amazons, and maybe all three. With this decision made, crewmen were despatched to all corners of the city, and soon returned with chests and amphorae, all of which Hercules loaded in double quick time.

The voyage was long and difficult. The winds usually blew from the north, so to go north they often had to resort to the oars. Fortunately, Hercules and Perseus were strong oarsmen. Hercules was the strongest man in the world. Perseus was a fearless warrior, who tested himself against the very sea itself. Just a mortal man, he would take an oar on the port side, while Hercules rowed on the starboard. Perseus would keep pace for several hours until his hands began to bleed, then tearing his cloak to make bandages, he would row on for several hours more. Eventually the demigod Hercules would win against the mortal. After that, it would take twenty men rowing opposite Hercules to keep the galley on a straight course.

After a week and a day the galley made landfall, and Perseus was the first to spot the way forward.

"Over there," he cried, "I see the delta of the river Thermodon. We must sail up the river to reach the land of the Amazons."

Up the river they went, using sail and oars. Sometimes the river became so shallow that they used their oars as poles to push the boat along. After only a few hours of travel up the river their progress was abruptly halted. Out of nowhere, an arrow thunked into the side of the galley. Everyone on board scrambled to grab spears and shields, then stood ready at the ships rail to repel an attack. They had been travelling through a landscape of flat, rocky fields, that seemed to provide no hiding place for the enemy. But even as the sailors scanned the fields in vain to find their attacker, a woman's voice came from nowhere.

"You are surrounded. Surrender or you will be shot down where you stand."

Hercules grasped his club more tightly, and made ready to spring to the shore. His cloak would stop any arrows, but the sailors and Iolaus had no such protection. How many enemies were out there, and how many arrows could they fire before he defeated them? To his right he could sense Perseus loosening the straps binding his shield. Things were about to get out of control, when...

"Hold your fire," shouted the captain, "we are traders bringing rare goods from the city of Troezen. We wish to trade for fine Amazonian weapons. We are not here to fight, but we will fight to defend our cargo from pirates."

"Well spoken," shouted the voice in reply, "but do I look like a pirate to you?"

At this, a figure emerged close to the bank of the river, seeming to rise out of the ground itself. It was a woman, not large but with muscles that looked like they were forged from iron. She wore leather armour, which covered her torso, and thick padding was wrapped around her legs - tied in place with leather straps. In one hand she carried a short bow, and on the other arm was strapped a shield shaped like the crescent moon. The shield shone like silver in the sunlight.

"Put down your weapons, let me on board, and I will guarantee safe passage for you and your cargo. Otherwise..." and with this she made a quick hand gesture. All across the fields, on both banks of the river, women now emerged from behind rocks or from hidden hollows. Looking around, Hercules whistled softly through his teeth.

"A good ambush," he said quietly, "it looks like we've been lucky to avoid fighting an enemy such as this." So saying, he softly laid his club on the deck of the galley.

The amazon who boarded the galley - she said her name was Calyope - was as good as her word. She guided the galley upstream to the first city of the Amazons. There were, she explained, three tribes of Amazons. In theory all were equal, but in practice one tribe was stronger, and its leader, Hippolyte, was regarded as queen of all the Amazons. Therefore Calyope had brought them to Hippolyte's city, where they moored to the wharf – a rickety old wooden platform. Traders seldom came to this land, and so there was no-one around when they arrived. Calyope went to find someone she called the Barter Master, and left them with a dire warning.

"Be aware that you are in the land of the Amazons now. Armed men are killed on sight. Any man unaccompanied by a woman is liable to immediate arrest. If I were you, I'd stay on my boat."

Despite hearing this warning, Iolaus suddenly blurted out, "maybe I could come with you?"

Calyope said nothing. Fixing him with a steady gaze she raised one eyebrow, inviting him to explain. For a few moments Iolaus could only stutter, then he recovered his wits.

"It is so rare for a visitor to have the chance to see an Amazon city," he said, "I would forever regret missing the opportunity, even though the risk may be great. And," here he hesitated slightly, "I have great faith in my lady's protection."

Hercules, who had seen the sidelong glances that Iolaus had been giving the Amazon during the voyage upstream, suspected he had another reason, be he said nothing. Any information on the city that Iolaus could gather might help in completing the challenge.

After Iolaus and Calyope left, the rest of the crew settled down for a long wait. In reality it was only a few minutes before an old man came limping along the wharf towards where the galley was moored. He introduced himself as the Barter Master.

"The Amazons don't think trading is an occupation worthy of a woman," he explained, "so they leave it to a man. The same is true of all the jobs they view as inferior – cooking, cleaning, childcare – all these things are left to the men."

The captain replied that trading, at least, was viewed the same everywhere. It was not seen as a noble profession, but still people wanted the goods he sold, and a share of the gold in his purse. Then they showed the Barter Master the cargo they carried and he licked his lips in anticipation.

"Wine, you say?" he mumbled, "Maybe I should just have a cup to, ah, ascertain the quality?"

"Of course!" replied the captain, "One must always check the goods. Steersman, take this gentleman below and let him choose any amphora his wishes to sample. They are all filled with the best wine Greece has to offer."

The captain smiled to himself, as the old main descended to the cargo hold. He knew that there was only one amphora of the best wine, the rest was average. The steersman, however, would make sure that the old man chose this amphora, and he'd make him think the choice had been random.

Twenty minutes later the captain and the Barter Master were deep in negotiations. The wine would fetch a high price. The salt would also be valued by the Amazons. But the olive oil was dismissed, until Hercules explained how it could be used to make leather armour more supple, allowing greater freedom of movement in battle.

"That's all very well," said the Barter Master, "but the Amazons guard their weaponry jealously. I'm not sure I can persuade them to part with what you ask."

"Well," replied the captain, "I'm sure a man of your talents can be very persuasive. And if you were successful, maybe a few jugs of this fine wine might find their way into your private cellar."

The old man's eyes lit up at this thought, and he left immediately to see the various women of the government who would need to approve such a deal. Shortly after he left, Iolaus and Calyope returned. Hercules was surprised to see Iolaus walking five paces behind Calyope as they approached the wharf, then running forward to walk beside her as soon as he was sure no-one was watching. By the time they reached the galley they were deep in conversation, talking and laughing together like they were old friends. By now it was getting dark. Calyope left Hercules and the crew with the same dire warning to stay aboard the galley. They would conclude their business, she said, in the morning.

That night the crew spent quietly on board the galley. Some brave souls crept onto the wharf and lit a fire to cook their evening meal, but they felt ill at ease and jumped frequently at the shadows around them. Iolaus was one of their number, and made them more nervous by telling stories of the things he had seen in the city. Then Iolaus told them another story, and one sailor forgot to be nervous because he saw a great opportunity in what he heard. With a glint in his eye he dragged Iolaus to his feet and took him back onto the galley, to where Hercules, Perseus and the captain were talking in hushed whispers.

Ever since they had arrived they had been trying to think of a way to get their hands on the girdle, but so far they had come up with nothing. The sailor hoped he could change that.

"Tell these men what you just told me," he said to Iolaus.

Iolaus shuffled uncomfortably and then he began.

"I noticed at once that everyone in the city treated Calyope with respect. A few times the other women she met started to say something, but silenced themselves when they saw me. However, in the marketplace, I was walking five paces behind Calyope, as is the custom for Amazon menfolk, when a woman came out of the crowd. She couldn't see me from where she was standing, but I saw her. She bowed to Calyope and greeted her as 'my princess'."

Hercules was unimpressed.

"That can only mean that Calyope is Hippolyte's daughter. While we've been stuck here, you've been off touring the city with their spy. What did you tell her?"

The captain however, like the sailor had done, saw the opportunity.

"We're here to trade, aren't we?" he asked with a wicked grin, "what do you think the queen would trade for the life of her daughter? Surely that would be worth a girdle."

"No!" Iolaus choked, "You cannot mean to kidnap a lady for ransom. The dishonour would be unbearable. Besides, she is," here Iolaus faltered, before finishing weakly, "an innocent in this."

"Well," responded the captain, "she didn't look so innocent when she and her warriors were pointing their bows at our heads. In any case, it seems to me we've got ourselves three options. One, a simple kidnap and no-one gets hurt. Two, we storm the city, maybe we all get killed, maybe we win and kill a lot of Amazons – either way, lots of people die. Three, we give up and go home, then we can wait for Alcyoneus to come and do the killing."

The captain's speech was short and crude, but not even Iolaus could find a convincing reply. The friends did not like what they had to do, nevertheless they set about making a plan and it was late into the night before they were able to settle down for sleep.

The sailors were woken by the light of dawn, and only slightly later, the Barter Master arrived at the wharf. He looked very pleased with himself. He also looked a little nervous.

"They've agreed to your terms," he said.

This delighted the captain, who had asked for many more weapons in payment than he thought would be acceptable. Although, of course, he let nothing show on his face. He just asked when the weapons would arrive.

"They will be here soon," said the Barter Master, hopping from one foot to another in his nervousness, "it would be best if you could arrange my, er, fee before they arrive."

Looking hopeful, he produced two stone jars with leather stoppers. The captain had these filled with wine, and the Barter Master left the wharf for a few minutes - no doubt to hide the jugs somewhere safe. When he returned, the captain asked casually if he would care for some refreshment before the hard work of swapping the cargo started. As he had known would happen, the old man agreed enthusiastically, and the went below decks to sample the wine. Their plan was now in motion and there was no turning back.

The Amazon officials arrived about an hour later, bringing with them several carts loaded with the weapons to be traded. Calyope was with them, and she searched among the faces of the sailors to see if she could find Iolaus, but he had been confined below decks in case he inadvertently gave away the plan. The wine, oil and salt was unloaded, and carried to the end of the wharf where it was loaded onto the carts. Then the weapons were carried aboard to be stored in the hold of the galley. The men did this work, while the Amazon women looked on. As the last of the cargo was loaded, the captain approached Calyope. Quietly he spoke to her.

"Forgive me, but there is a matter of some delicacy you may want to attend to personally. The Barter Master arrived early today, and insisted on verifying the quality of the wine. I'm afraid he was unused to strong drink, and did not think to add any water. He is, therefore, now below decks and quite insensible."

Calyope cursed the man for a fool, and headed to the galley.

"You men need our constant attention," she said, "otherwise you find all kinds of ways to destroy yourselves."

So saying, she descended to the hold, where she saw the Barter Master lying stretched out on the floor - snoring loudly.

"Idiot!" she shouted.

"Yes," said the steersman, who was tending to the old man, "but a man of stamina. See, he has drunk almost an entire amphora."

Calyope could not help but give in to her curiosity, and went to look in the huge jar indicated by the steersman. Sure enough it was practically empty, but when she leaned over to look she was caught off guard by Hercules, who clamped his arms around her. Then Perseus gagged her, before she could scream, and together they forced her into the empty amphora. The last sound she heard before the vessel was closed was Iolaus' voice, as he pleaded with them not to hurt her.

In the hustle and bustle of the loading, no-one noticed the missing princess or Barter Master. By the time the galley left the wharf and headed down river towards the sea, everyone had returned to their usual business without giving the visitors a second thought. Before Hercules and his friends reached the mouth of the river, they dropped the Barter Master on the bank, and instructed him to take a message to the queen.

"Tell her that we have her daughter," said Hercules, "we will release her in return for the girdle. The queen will find us at anchor near the mouth of the river. She should send the girdle to us in a rowing boat, we will return Calyope in the same boat."

The old man was very unhappy with his mission, fearing that the queen would punish him, but he knew that he had no choice. He set off at a run, while the galley headed out towards the sea. Once they were at a safe distance from the shore, the captain dropped anchor and they waited. Calyope had been released from the amphora, and having shouted and screamed at Iolaus for over an hour, now sat sulking in the hold.

After what seemed like an age, one of the sailors spotted a rowing boat emerging from the mouth of the river. Two Amazons were at the oars and they made steady progress across the sea to the galley. Some minutes later they drew alongside, and one of them produced Hippolyte's girdle.

"Where is Calyope?" she asked with a growl, "She had better not be harmed."

"She is in good health," replied Hercules. Then he raised his voice and shouted, "Iolaus, bring the princess, she is to be released."

Iolaus and Calyope emerged from the cargo hold, and headed for the waiting rowing boat. Calyope climbed in with as much dignity as she could manage, then the Amazon threw the girdle to Hercules. He had completed the ninth challenge.

What Hercules didn't realise was that the cunning queen Hippolyte had hidden her ten fastest war canoes along the shore. As soon as they saw that Calyope was safe, they burst from their hiding places and raced towards the galley. Each canoe was rowed by ten Amazons, and on the prow stood an eleventh Amazon, armed with a bow. The canoes were long and slim, and they sliced through the waves like spears. The captain saw them coming first, and began to shout orders to the men. Some scrambled to hoist the sail, while others sat down, readied their oars and prepared to row. Hercules went to join the oarsmen, until he felt Perseus' hand on his arm.

"Follow me, and bring your bow," he shouted to Hercules, above the roar of the wind and the waves, "we must slow the enemy down, and buy some time for the sailors to get the galley moving."

Perseus then ran to the bow of the ship, and began to unbuckle the straps on his shield.

"Everyone," bellowed Hercules, "close your eyes - and if you value your lives you'll keep them shut!"

The crew did as they were instructed, and Hercules was amazed to see that they were so familiar with their ship and their duties that every man was able to continue his work as if their sight was as clear as day.

Now Perseus undid the last strap, he held the shield aloft, and shielding his own eyes, pointed it towards the oncoming canoes. As the cover dropped away, the Gorgon's head was revealed. Every one of the Amazon archers was now caught by the Gorgon's gaze, and immediately they turned to stone. Its job done, Perseus covered the shield again, and called out to say it was safe. But when Hercules opened his eyes, he was dismayed.

"The archers, who faced us, are turned to stone," he said, "but the rowers face away from us. They are unharmed, and the canoes will soon catch us."

"Now it's your turn," replied Perseus, "Those statues will be heavy, but a well-placed arrow should knock them down."

Hercules grunted and drew his bow. Although the galley was rocked by the waves, the wind was blowing and his target was moving, it seemed to Perseus that Hercules only hesitated a moment before loosing his arrow. It flew in a long arc through the air before striking the forehead of the statue on the nearest canoe. The statue wobbled, then tilted, then fell with a crash back into the canoe. It was so heavy that its impact must have cracked the boat open, for it soon started to drop lower in the water, and then sank altogether, leaving the Amazon rowers to swim for the shore. When Hercules sank a second canoe in the same way, the other crews realised what was happening. Some turned back, others paused to push the statues overboard. The confusion amongst the Amazons gave the sailors time to get the galley underway, and once they were under full sail there was no catching them. They were finally safe.

The voyage back to Troezen was swift and uneventful. When they arrived home, Hercules and Iolaus were both happy and sad. They had completed another challenge, but they were not sure they would see the captain and their other friends again.

"Once we sell these Amazon weapons," said the captain, "we'll all be rich men. I might settle down and try my hand at farming, or just find a quiet place to build a house and relax. The sea's in my blood though, so if you need me –"

"or us," shouted the other sailors.

"—you just have to ask,"

With that, they said their farewells, leaving Hercules and Iolaus to take the girdle to Pittheus.
The Tenth Challenge: The Cattle of Geryon

With the end of the year less than ten weeks away, it was difficult for Hercules and Iolaus to relax. The marriage of Pittheus' daughter, however, provided a welcome distraction. The whole city was invited to celebrate, with the fields outside the city set out for the festivities, and everyone was in a fine mood. The day after the wedding the newly married couple, together with a large group of volunteers, departed to start a new colony. Iolaus recognised some of the sailors among their number and shouted his best wishes as the procession passed the city walls. He supposed that the idea of a long retirement and a quiet life did not appeal to everyone, some still needed new adventures and excitement. Secretly he knew that he felt the same way, and so it was with glad steps that he answered the call from Pittheus the next morning, knowing that the king had dreamt once more of Zeus. Entering the throne room he saw that, apart from the king himself, the captain of the guard was also present. Hercules arrived less than a minute later, fully clothed but dripping with water.

"I have been told of your next challenge," said the king, quickly and without preamble, "you must steal the Cattle of Geryon. It will not be easy. The cattle are guarded by a herdsman who is the son of Ares, god of war. The herdsman has a dog, Orthro, a giant of an animal with two heads and crushing jaws. Geryon himself is a giant with three bodies, three heads and six arms, but even that is not the worst of it," Pittheus paused, licking his lips before continuing, "the cattle are pastured on the island of Erytheia, which sits halfway between Africa and Europe at the very mouth of the Mediterranean. It is at the very edge of the known world."

"We must go and fetch the captain," Iolaus said, turning to the door, "and the sailors. I saw some of them departing yesterday, we must fetch them back." Hercules said nothing, his eyes blank and his body sagging with weariness. "I know it's a long way," said Iolaus, "but something will come up, it always does. We must try."

The words sounded hollow, because they both knew that the journey itself would take more time than was left, and there were still two more challenges to complete. Hercules gave himself over entirely to despair.

"Zeus," he called, his voice echoing in the empty throne room, "my father, why do you mock me with this impossible challenge? Lend me your divine aid, at least make the journey possible."

The echoes of Hercules' voice died away, and there was no answer.

"Hera," called Hercules in despair, "Ares, Athena, Poseidon. Will any god answer my prayer?"

As soon as he had uttered these words, Hercules regretted them. The throne room seemed to darken, and began to fill with an oily mist. Shadows moved around at the edge of his vision and the air itself grew colder. Beside him he heard Pittheus gasp, and the rasp of metal as the captain of the guard drew his sword. Then a voice came out of the mist. It had a hollow sound and seemed to come from everywhere at once, filling even the huge throne room.

"That's no way to greet a favourite uncle," said the voice, "you did call for ANY god, didn't you? Well... here I am."

There was a shimmering in the air in front of Pittheus, who shrank back in fear. Slowly a figure materialised, starting with the head and moving to the feet, until there, in the throne room, lifting the helmet of darkness from his head, stood Hades, brother of Zeus and Lord of the Underworld.

"Lord Hades, forgive me," said Hercules, "I had not expected you to answer my call."

"I understand," said Hades, with a sinister smile, "the lord of the dead is not often welcome in the land of the living. I know I can be quite intimidating."

As he said this last word he reached out with lightning speed and caught the captain's sword gently between his thumb and forefinger. At once the sword turned red, then black, then crumbled to dust. Hades smiled wickedly at the shocked soldier before turning back to Hercules.

"But today," he resumed, "I have been given special permission by my brother to visit the world of light and to offer you my assistance. I understand that you have a long way to go, and wish to avoid a slow sea voyage?"

Hercules nodded, unsure what to expect. Everyone knew that Hades thought that he should be the leader of the gods instead of Zeus, but even he had nothing to gain from the release of Alcyoneus.

"Come!" said Hades, suddenly leading the way out of the throne room and up to the palace battlements, from where they could look down over the plain that surrounded the city. Once or twice a palace guard went to block his path, but the captain shook his head and the guards let them pass.

"You have a chariot?" asked Hades. Hercules nodded.

"And a charioteer?" Hercules nodded again, noticing for the first time that Iolaus had not followed them out of the throne room.

Having got the answers he wanted, Hades began to wave his hands in mysterious patterns in the air, while continuing to talk.

"You surface dwellers see only part of the world. You look at the ocean and think it can only be crossed in ships, but below the water is rock and below the rock is my realm. There are no seas there to slow you down, or mountains, or forests where you might get lost. There are only the secret ways of Hades, which run straight and true and link all the parts of the known world."

As Hades moved his hands, Hercules noticed that he was concentrating hard on one particular spot in the fields outside the city. The ground there seemed to be moving, like it was made of snakes that were slithering over and between one another. Slowly the earth moved upwards, forming a small hillock in the middle of the fields, and in one side was a dark and cavernous entrance.

"Behold," said Hades, "the entrance to the Underworld. My paths will take you quickly to where you need to go, but there are rules..."

Hercules noticed that Hades was again moving his hands. He had scooped up some of the shadow from behind the palace walls, and now he was moulding it into something. Something that looked like a little arrow.

"... always keep this with you," he said, placing the arrow in a pouch, which he handed to Hercules, "it is easy to get lost in my realm, and this compass will show you the way. Hold it in your hand and whisper to it where you want to go. It will point in the right direction."

Hercules hung the pouch carefully round his neck as Hades continued.

"As you travel, you must look straight ahead \- glance neither to the left nor to the right," warned Hades, "and, most importantly of all, you must take nothing from my realm."

With these last words, Hades put on his helmet, and it was as if the sun dimmed. The god of the Underworld faded into a black mist, which thinned and disappeared. Now the sun shone brightly again, Hercules was suddenly aware that birds were singing and that people in the city below were going about their normal daily business, and he shivered at the thought of a world ruled by Hades.

After Hades had gone, Hercules took his leave of Pittheus, and ran down to the plain where the entrance to the Underworld now stood. By the time he arrived, Iolaus was already waiting. He had the chariot ready, and harnessed between the shafts was the Ceryneian Hind.

"Where did you go? How did you know I'd be here?" asked Hercules.

"Well," said Iolaus, "when you left the throne room, I decided I had better make haste to prepare for our journey. I was in the marketplace when I saw Hades on the battlements of the palace and then this gateway to the Underworld erupted from the ground. I guessed it had to be something to do with you."

Hercules just grunted. He had half hoped that Iolaus wouldn't be here so he could spare his friend the danger, but then he wouldn't have had the chariot, or the company.

"We'd better get going," was all he said.

"But where to?" asked Iolaus.

"To Erytheia, of course. To get there and back quickly, Hades has granted us safe passage through his kingdom. You must remember to look only to the front - not left or right - and we must not take anything from his realm back into the surface world. Got it?"

"Yes, Hercules," said Iolaus. Then, "but Hercules, how will we find our way about underground without the sun or moon or stars to guide us?"

Hercules did not answer directly, he simply took the shadow compass from the pouch around his neck, held it in his palm and whispered to it 'Erytheia'. At once the arrow swung round to point at the entrance to the Underworld. Hercules felt just the slightest tickle as it moved, but otherwise the thing seemed to have no substance. Satisfied by this, Iolaus made a last check of the chariot, then climbed aboard and indicated for Hercules to do the same. As soon as his friend had a hold of the chariot, Iolaus flicked the reigns, and the hind broke into a gallop, carrying them at a frightening speed down under the ground.

"Hercules," said Iolaus, as the last glimmers of daylight disappeared behind them, "isn't it wrong to steal?"

The Underworld was a strange place. It was not completely dark, as Iolaus had expected. Instead, everything seemed to be illuminated by a dull red light. Iolaus could not tell where this light was coming from, although of course he only looked straight ahead, as he had been instructed. The air was warm, and when he took in a lung full, Iolaus found it strangely unsatisfying, like it had been half used up already. But it was the sounds that were the worst. There were mutters and screams, and sometimes whole words or phrases spoken in voices Iolaus thought he recognised. The voices seemed to be trying to tempt him to look left or right, and once or twice, when he moved his head slightly to the side, Iolaus thought he saw figures moving in the walls of the tunnel.

Most of the time they seemed to be in a tunnel, and the way was very straight and easy to follow. Only occasionally would the tunnel open into a cavern, or they would arrive at a crossroads, and then Hercules would have to use the shadow compass to show the right way. Otherwise the journey soon grew monotonous, despite the strange sights and sounds. At first they spent the time discussing the challenge ahead. Iolaus thought that maybe Geryon was a bad man and a poor ruler who needed to be taught a lesson. Hercules thought that he was the one being taught a lesson, that it didn't matter how strong or fearsome you seemed to be, at any moment someone or something could turn up that would humble you completely. That was what Geryon was about to find out, and Hercules could not help but put himself in the place of his adversary.

"We are being asked to do some very bad things," he concluded, "we know they are bad, and yet we still do them. I'm afraid that there will be consequences."

As the miles went by, their conversation faltered, then stopped altogether. They decided to take turns in sleeping, so as to be fresher when they arrived. Iolaus slept first, and because the chariot was so small, he tied himself to the rail so that he could sleep standing up. Although it felt strange, he was so tired that he soon fell into a heavy and dreamless sleep.

He was so fast asleep that when he awoke he didn't remember where he was, and before Hercules could stop him, he started looking around. As his gaze fell on the wall of the tunnel his eyes widened with surprise and recognition.

"Grandfather," he shouted, and would have jumped off the chariot there and then if he hadn't been tied on. Instead, he seemed gripped by madness, and started clawing at the rope that bound him, desperate to get free. He babbled incoherently, while never once taking his eyes away from the tunnel wall. Tying the reins to the rail, and urging the hind to continue onwards, Hercules reached out and covered Iolaus' eyes with his hands. Iolaus struggled at first, but Hercules held firm, and after a short while, he felt his friend relax. Slowly he turned Iolaus to face forwards and spoke gently to him as follows.

"Do you remember where you are?"

"In the Underworld, the realm of Hades," replied Iolaus.

"Do you remember where to look?"

"Only to the front, not to the left and not to the right," the young man said.

"Very well. I'm going to take my hands away. Try to remain calm."

Hercules removed his hands, and was surprised to find that they were wet with Iolaus' tears. His friend beside him stayed very still, staring straight ahead.

"What did you see?" Hercules asked with some concern.

Iolaus answered only haltingly, clearly controlling his emotions with a great effort.

"I saw my grandfather in the wall of the tunnel. He seemed to be in trouble, and was calling for help. I haven't seen him since I left home four years ago. If his spirit is here, in the Underworld, then he must be dead."

Iolaus hung his head, and his shoulders shook as he fought to control his sobs.

"Maybe," said Hercules, "but maybe not. There are creatures in the Underworld that seek for the living like flowers seek the sun. Maybe they were trying to draw you away so that you would lose yourself in these tunnels."

"Maybe," echoed Iolaus, and then he was silent and still for a long while.

It was some hours later, and Hercules was taking his turn to sleep, when the chariot approached the end of the final tunnel. Iolaus felt his heart leap when he saw the first glimmer of sunlight ahead, and soon he felt a breath of clean, fresh air against his cheek. Desperate to be out in the open again, he spurred the hind on to run even faster, until the tunnel walls were flashing past. They were so close to the entrance now that Iolaus could see the sunbeams streaming in from outside and lighting up the dusty floor. The hind was racing forward, tossing her head with excitement, when Iolaus suddenly pulled back on the reins, bringing the hind to a skidding halt - her nose just a fraction away from entering the sunlight. The juddering stop sent Hercules toppling forward, and woke him with a start.

"What, what, what's going on?" he asked, opening his eyes and starting to look around.

Iolaus quickly grabbed him by the beard, and stopped him from turning his head.

"Ouch, why... oh yes, only to the front," Hercules said, as he remembered where he was.

Satisfied that his friend was fully awake, Iolaus hopped down from the chariot and quickly dusted off the wheels, making sure that they would not take anything, even by accident, out of the Underworld and into the light. Then he stopped.

"Hercules," Iolaus said, "look down at the ground."

Hercules looked, and now that they were in better light, he could see that the floor of the tunnel was covered with gemstones. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds lay scattered everywhere.

"With just a handful of these we could be rich," Iolaus whispered.

"I've been rich," Hercules said, "believe me, it's not everything that people say."

"But think of the good we could do," continued Iolaus, "think of all the people we could help," then, with a strange and cunning look in his eye, "we could build a new a bath house in the city, dedicated to you Hercules. You could go there every day."

"Think what you are saying," growled Hercules, "Hades has many ways of tricking good men into doing bad things. If you knew him like I do, you would not talk this way."

Iolaus looked up at his friend and it was as if he had woken from a deep sleep. He shook his head to clear his mind and finished brushing down the wheels, then he brushed off his sandals and jumped back onto the chariot. Without a word he flicked the reins, and they drove out into the sunshine, where Hercules at once received a nasty shock.

"I asked the shadow compass to take us to Erytheia," he moaned.

They were stood by the shore of a sea, which must have been the Mediterranean. There, across the water, they could easily see the coast of Africa - from the position of the sun Hercules guessed that they were stood in Europe - and right in the middle of the sea, between the two continents, stood the island of Erytheia.

"How are we meant to get there?"

Hercules pulled out the shadow compass and once again whispered the island's name, but the compass simply spun slowly round in his hand. Then he had an idea. "Africa," he whispered to the compass and it quickly settled to point back into the Underworld.

"Did you bring any rope?" he asked Iolaus.

The young man nodded, looking slightly confused. He rummaged in the bottom of the chariot and produced a huge coil of fine rope.

"Why did you bring so much," said Hercules, astounded, "did you think we'd have to tie up a Titan... on second thoughts, don't answer that question. Whatever the reason, we'll need it now. You should stay here, I'll be back soon."

With no more explanation than that, Hercules got back on the chariot and disappeared back down into the Underworld. Iolaus waited for an hour, then another, then he got tired of waiting and got up to go and explore. A second later there was a great crash, and Iolaus whirled round to see a boulder, half buried in the ground, in exactly the spot he had been sitting. The boulder had one end of his rope tied around it, the rest of the rope could be seen trailing back across the straits - all the way to Africa. Iolaus now guessed what his friend had planned, and sure enough, not long after, the chariot came thundering back out into the sunlight.

"You missed," said Iolaus angrily.

"No I didn't," said Hercules, "there's the boulder, right there right -"

"- right where I was sitting until a moment earlier," finished Iolaus.

Hercules went as pale as Iolaus had ever seen a living man go before, then he rushed over to inspect his friend and to make sure no harm had been done.

"Stop, there's no need, I'm fine... that tickles," said Iolaus, and when finally Hercules stopped, he continued in gentler tones, "It's a good plan, it just would have been better if you'd have given me some warning. Now, what's stage two?"

Hercules constructed a huge stone pillar, and attached the rope to the top. He said that he'd made a similar pillar on the African side, so that now the rope hung suspended above the ocean, passing directly over Erytheia. Using the rope, he was able to swing himself, hand over hand, along the rope and across to the island. Unfortunately it was too far for Iolaus to follow, he wasn't strong enough, so he had to stay back on the mainland.

After what seemed like a long while, Hercules reached Erytheia, and dropped down onto the slopes of the rocky mountain that stood at the centre of the island. As soon as his feet touched the ground, out jumped a huge dog, its jaws flashing towards his face. By instinct Hercules turned, and he felt the jaws close harmlessly on the shoulder of his cloak, the lion skin protecting him from the sharp fangs. Then he felt another set of teeth close on his arm, and realised that this must be the fearsome, two headed dog, Orthro. Enraged by the pain in his arm, Hercules began to spin himself round and round, faster and faster. The dog was lifted into the air, and spun so fast that it could no longer hold on. Orthro's grip on the cloak slipped first, and in desperation the dog bit down on the club that was slung over Hercules' back. The club was solid enough and gave a good grip, but the strap could not take the strain, it snapped sending the dog flying back through the air, over a cliff and into the sea.

"Now you are dizzy and have no weapon," said a voice behind Hercules, "you shall meet no mercy from me, thief. I am Geryon's Herdsman, a son of Ares, and you shall feel the bite of iron at my hands."

Hercules turned, stumbling, as his head was still spinning from his fight with Orthro. He saw a man in full armour with his sword raised - ready to run him through. There was no time to react, there was nothing to do, Hercules was doomed...

"Hey!" came a shout from above.

Iolaus had not been idle once Hercules had left. He had thought hard, and had built an ingenious device - made from the wheels of their chariot. This rolled along the rope at great speed, with Iolaus suspended beneath. Now he had undone the straps that held him in place, and was hurtling towards the herdsman.

"Hey!" Iolaus called again, and as the son of Ares looked up, he raised his feet, delivering a huge blow to the man's armoured breastplate. Now the heavy armour became the man's downfall. He could not steady himself, and stumbled down the mountainside until he followed his dog over the cliff and into the water.

"That's an impressive contraption," said Hercules, still out of breath from the sudden battle, "do you think it could get us and the cattle off the island?"

He looked down to the fields below the mountain where a herd of cattle, all looking impressively large, stood grazing in an idyllic green pasture.

"Alas, no," replied Iolaus, "the device works because it is pulled by the earth to the lowest point on the rope, which is at the middle. So you can travel from either end to the middle, but never from the middle to the end. Besides, it wouldn't be strong enough to carry even one of those cows."

"You use lots of words and tell me nothing of use," said Hercules grumpily, "we might swim off this island, or build a raft, but there is no way to get these cattle back to Troezen. The challenge is lost."

"Not at all," said Iolaus, "have you not thought why we couldn't travel directly to Erytheia through the Underworld?"

"Because it would have been too easy, and Zeus takes pleasure in seeing me suffer?" guessed Hercules.

"Possibly," replied Iolaus, "but there's another reason. The Underworld only allows travel to places that are part of the earth."

Hercules looked blank, so Iolaus continued.

"There is a gap between the bottom of this island and the main body of the earth. Poseidon's realm lies between Erytheia and the realm of Hades."

There was still not glimmer of understanding in Hercules' eyes, so Iolaus tried one last time.

"This is a floating island!"

"You mean," said Hercules slowly, "that we could sail this whole island back to the shore."

"Not sail exactly," said Iolaus, picking up the herdsman's sword and walking towards the far side of the mountain, "Pull down on that rope and follow me."

Iolaus explained his plan as follows. Even Hercules' great strength would not be enough to move the whole island, but if they could harness Geryon's enormous cattle to one end of the rope, and then drive them round the mountain, they would slowly wind the island towards the shore. The first step was to cut the rope, so that they would have a loose end to harness to the cattle. Iolaus got Hercules to trap the rope under a huge boulder, then cut it at the African side. The loose end of the rope immediately disappeared into the distance, making a singing sound as it whipped through the air. Next, Hercules pulled the other end of the rope out from underneath the boulder and dragged it round the mountain. Iolaus drove the cattle up the mountain in twos and threes so that they could be harnessed to the rope. Finally, when enough cattle were harnessed, and Hercules lent his strength to the task, they felt the island start to move, and the sea frothed up around it as it was forced aside by the passage of the land. Slowly, slowly, they pulled the island closer and closer to the mainland, until with a crash and a huge spout of water, it came to rest alongside Europe - where it has been ever since.

Now all that remained was to rebuild the chariot, tie the cattle behind it, and drive them back through the Underworld. Except one more obstacle remained. Geryon himself had been awakened by the crash, as Erytheia had been joined with Europe. Now he stood, huge and terrible, blocking the entrance to the Underworld.

"Hercules?" he said, disbelief showing in his voice, "scourge of the giants, hero among mortals. Are you now just a common thief come to steal my herd?"

Without waiting for an answer, he bent his three bodies to the ground and began picking up huge rocks, which he hurled at Hercules, forcing him to hide behind a large boulder.

"I can see you behind there, skulking like a cockroach," shouted Geryon, "your lion skin cloak is unmistakeable."

Hercules tried to dodge out from behind the boulder to fire his bow, but Geryon had six hands with which to throw rocks and had no trouble keeping his adversary pinned down. It looked like Hercules was trapped.

"Pstt," said a voice down by Hercules' feet. Iolaus had sneaked in behind the rock, under the cover of a shallow stream bed. He was soaked and cold, but Geryon had not seen him.

"Don't look down," he whispered, "just hold still. I'll climb up inside your cloak and then you can crawl out along the stream. Geryon only sees the cloak, he doesn't know who's inside."

Hercules did as Iolaus said, and soon he was crawling along the stream bed, getting into a position where he could attack Geryon from the side. The plan would have worked well, except that Iolaus grew overconfident. There he was, wearing the impenetrable cloak of Hercules. Now and again he would show a fold of the cloak, and Geryon would throw his rocks at it, but they would simply bounce off. After a few minutes Iolaus grew bold enough to jump out from behind the rock and jump back. Once or twice a stone caught him a glancing blow, but the cloak protected him. Then he went too far. He jumped out from behind the boulder and did a little dance, taunting Geryon. Geryon was no fool. He took careful aim and landed a rock – smack - right in the middle of Iolaus' forehead. Without the cloak it would have cracked Iolaus' skull in two, as it was he was knocked unconscious and fell senseless to the ground. Geryon, thinking it was Hercules who now lay there on the ground, picked up a huge stone in his six hands and advanced, aiming to crush his foe.

Looking up from his hiding place, Hercules was horrified, thinking that Iolaus had been killed. He readied his bow to take revenge, although he was unsure where to aim given that this giant had three bodies and three heads. To add to the urgency, a small crowd had started to gather, and Hercules was surprised to hear them cheering and chanting Geryon's name. A small part of Hercules' brain began to work over this new puzzle, but his thinking was clouded by thoughts of revenge. Hercules drew his bow and shot. Thunk, thunk, thunk - the arrow pierced all three of Geryon's bodies, pinning him to the boulder behind which Iolaus had been hiding. Thinking their king had been killed, the crowd surged forwards, meaning to avenge him in turn, but Hercules was quicker. Bounding from his hiding place, he drew a second arrow, and aimed it at Geryon, who was moaning in pain but starting to move his limbs.

"Hold!" shouted Hercules to the crowd, who stopped in their tracks, "there was no poison on that arrow, your king still lives. This arrow, however, is poisoned. Come one more step and he will die."

"Kill him and we'll tear you limb from limb," shouted a man from the crowd.

"Why does this monster deserve to live?" replied Hercules.

"He's no monster," said a woman, "he's our king and we love him."

Then other people began to shout.

"Geryon is a good ruler, wise and just... We have prospered during his reign... He leads us in battle, always in the thick of the fight... He saved my life when we fought the barbarian invaders... and mine... and mine!"

Hearing all these things, Hercules realised that he had made a mistake in judging Geryon by his looks alone. Iolaus would be avenged, he thought, but not by following one wrong act with another. He returned the poison arrow to its quiver, and motioned for the crowd to come and care for their king. However, before any one of them could move a muscle, there was a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder and there, on the mountainside, stood Zeus himself.

"Hercules," shouted Zeus, his great voice echoing around the rocky landscape," why does Geryon still live?"

"Father Zeus!" Hercules shuddered and bowed his head, "the challenge was not to kill Geryon, only to steal his cattle."

"Geryon has become proud," replied Zeus, "he thinks he has control over Mother Earth, and so he no longer feels the need to worship me. He ordered my statue to be torn down and my temple to be used as a storehouse."

"He is a good ruler," argued Hercules, "he protects his subjects and serves them well."

"He teaches them to disobey the gods," thundered Zeus, "they must learn that to worship the gods is not only right and good, but also necessary. You must show them that Geryon has taken the wrong path and sets a bad example. Kill him!"

"This was not the challenge, and I will have no part in it," shouted Hercules, "you gods want only power. I have learnt now what all men know in their hearts, that power is nothing unless it is wielded with honour and justice and mercy."

"Very well," growled Zeus.

He pointed his spear at Geryon, and from its tip burst a bolt of lightning that danced over Geryon's body until there was nothing left of it but ash. Then, ignoring the tears, screams and wails of the crowd, he turned again to Hercules.

"Now, ungrateful son of mine, hear the real reason for my visit."

"I'll hear nothing more from you," shouted Hercules, staring in disbelief at the blackened boulder where Geryon had stood a few moments earlier.

"Well then," said Zeus, "if you grieve so over one mortal, imagine how you will feel when Alcyoneus destroys whole cities."

Hercules was still angry that his father had killed Geryon, and he was still grieving for Iolaus, but he had to admit that completing the twelve challenges was more important. He looked Zeus in the eye and nodded, and the next moment they were stood side by side on a cloud high, high in the sky. Hercules looked down and saw the world spread beneath them. The blue seas, broken by the occasional dash of white foam, sparked in the sun. The land below was mottled green and brown, and in the distance, were the grey forms of high mountains, jagged against the horizon.

"Those mountains," began Zeus, "mark the edge of the world. There stands the Titan, Atlas, who holds up the sky on his shoulders."

Sure enough, when Hercules looked carefully, he could see a gigantic figure stood on the summit of the highest mountain. Even at this distance, Hercules could see that he was bent under the enormous weight he carried. Atlas, he remembered, had led the Titans in their war against the gods, and so when the Titans had been defeated, Zeus had punished him with this terrible duty.

Having set the scene, Zeus now explained the next challenge. When he had married Hera, Zeus gave his new wife a tree as a wedding present. This was a beautiful and magical tree, and golden apples grew upon its branches. Hera had planted the tree in the Atlas Mountains, and she had entrusted its care to the daughters of Atlas. The daughters, who together were called the Hesperides, tended the tree well, but they abused their position of trust and started to steal apples. Outraged, Hera sent a huge serpent to guard the tree. It had a hundred heads, which all slept at different times, and its fangs dripped venom. The serpent, who was called Ladon, curled around the trunk of the tree and made sure no one ever picked another apple.

Now it was the daughters' turn to be upset.

"Well," they said to each other huffily, "if we can't take the apples then no-one else shall have them."

"Except maybe father," said the youngest.

"Yes," agreed the others, "we'd let father have one, but of course he'll never come to claim it because he has to hold up the sky all the time."

Having decided this, they set about building a high wall all around the garden in which the tree stood. The wall had a single gate, which they secured with strong locks and magic spells. So now no-one, not even Hera herself, could pick the apples.

"Soon it will be our wedding anniversary," concluded Zeus, "five thousand years to the day, and I would like to give my wife a gift. A golden apple from the very tree I gave her on our wedding day, all those years ago."

"And I am to fetch it for you," said Hercules.

"Indeed. Leave your mortal pet here to tend the cattle, and use the shadow compass to travel through the Underworld. Call for me when you have the apple."

"Mortal pet?" snarled Hercules, then after a moment's thought, "Wait, you mean that Iolaus still lives!"

"Indeed," said Zeus again and with a wave of his spear he cleared the clouds at their feet.

Far down below Hercules could see the tiny figure of Iolaus being helped up off the ground and accepting a drink from one of the townspeople. Then, in a flash, Hercules found himself standing on the ground next to his friend, with a lot of explaining to do.
The Eleventh Challenge: The Apple of the Hesperides

Hercules did not depart on his quest at once, although Iolaus had quickly been able to repair the chariot. Instead he stayed the night with the townspeople while they said farewell to their departed king. They built a huge bonfire, and sat out in the open swapping stories of the great deeds that Geryon had performed. Then, as the night wore on and the fire began to burn low, they agreed that the boulder where Geryon had died should be turned into a monument to him, and that an inscription would be carved into the rock. Finally they drifted off to their beds, leaving Hercules and Iolaus to unroll their blankets and sleep under the stars near the embers of the fire.

The next morning Hercules rose early, eager to get on with the challenge. He instructed Iolaus to stay behind and tend to the cattle, as Zeus had commanded. Iolaus was unhappy to be missing out on the adventure, but having so recently seen the consequences of displeasing a god, he did not argue. This settled, Hercules went to ready the chariot and harness the hind, only to find a small group of townsfolk coming out to meet him. They stopped a little way in front of him, and shuffled their feet uneasily, until one of their number was pushed forward. Finding himself nominated as the spokesman of the group, he began as follows.

"Mighty Hercules. After saying farewell to our king last night, there was one more point to be decided. Geryon had no son, and he had appointed no successor. We need a new king and everyone in the town would like it to be you. You defeated Geryon in battle, yet you defied Zeus and showed him mercy." There was a long pause until, finally, the spokesman cleared his throat and asked more directly, "Mighty Hercules, will you be our king?"

Well, Hercules was very flattered by this. He liked the idea of ruling this town by the sea at the edge of the known world, but he knew he had his challenges to complete and could not stay. He thought for a long time, making the little group of townspeople very nervous because he was so still and so silent and looked so fierce. Then, finally, Hercules lifted his head and called for Iolaus.

"I have decided to accept your offer," he said to the townspeople, who started clapping and cheering until Hercules held up his hand to silence them, "however I have been given a great challenge to complete, and I must depart immediately in order to fulfil this duty. I will leave Iolaus with you. He is wise beyond his years, and will rule in my place as my Steward. If I should not return then you should accept him as your king, although his reign will be short as an evil giant will then come and destroy the world."

The townspeople nodded, their faces showing a mix of emotions as they weren't sure whether Hercules was joking about the giant. Before there could be any more questions, Hercules drew Iolaus to one side.

"I have a plan," he said, "while I am away you should observe the townspeople and find the worthiest, wisest and best person from among their number. When I return I will make that person Steward in your place, and we can go to complete the final challenge together."

Then Hercules harnessed the hind to the chariot, whispered his destination to the shadow compass – 'Atlas Mountains' – and drove off into the Underworld.

Now that he was used to the tunnels of Hades, Hercules found it easier to resist the temptation to look to the side. He also remembered to stop and dust off the wheels of the chariot, just as Iolaus had done, before driving out into the daylight. When he did emerge it was into a very different landscape from the one he had left. The cave opened onto the side of a gigantic mountain. Above him rose a steep rock slope, where patches of snow were visible here and there, growing more frequent higher up, until a dense layer of cloud seemed to lay as a barrier, blocking his sight of the mountain summit. Below was a winding trail that led to a narrow valley. The bottom of the valley was more sheltered and tall meadow grass grew there, interspersed with one or two stunted trees. At the far end of the valley, Hercules could see a large circular area that had been enclosed by a high wall, and he knew that this was his destination. Unharnessing the hind from the chariot, he led her down the trail, releasing her to graze in the meadow before walking with determined steps towards the walled garden.

The wall, which had seemed quite normal from a distance, began to look more intimidating as Hercules approached. The massive stones were so well fitted together that they almost seemed to melt into one another, and they reached high into the sky \- higher than even a Titan could reach. The gate was also formidable, constructed of thick wooden planks bound with metal and studded with iron spikes. Here Hercules saw an opportunity. The sheer face of the wall might not present any handhold, but the spikes on the gate were as good as a ladder to a strong man. In any case, his experience taught him that the entrance was the weakest part of any fortress – if he could not climb the gate, how long would it take for him to crack it open with his club? So he headed directly for this weak spot, emerging from the long meadow grass onto an area of shorter grass and moss that surrounded the wall. There was nothing now to stop him as he strode forward, and Hercules was beginning to think that the challenge would be easy, when he suddenly found himself walking away from the gate.

"How on earth did that happen," he mumbled to himself, then turned round and headed for the gate again... only to end up, a few seconds later, facing back the way he had come. It must be the sorcery of the Hesperides, he thought, I shall have to be clever. So he tried approaching the gate by walking backwards, or with his eyes closed, or by hopping – but none of these things worked. With his anger rising, Hercules picked up a stone and flung it at the gate, only to find it flying back towards him, catching him smartly on the forehead. Rubbing this new bruise, Hercules worked his way towards the side of the gate, maybe hoping to sneak up on it from an unexpected direction. He found that the magic did not stop him from reaching the wall, only that it was impossible to get within touching distance of the gate itself.

"Very well," he growled, "I shall have to do this the hard way."

He went to climb the stone wall. However smooth and even the surface had looked from a distance, it was twice as sheer from close up. Hercules did manage to find some tiny handholds with which to pull himself up until he had reached about head height, then the rock itself seemed to shimmer, and it was as if it had turned to glass - landing Hercules back down on the ground on his bottom. Now he was sure, as he fell, that he had heard the sound of giggling coming from the other side of the wall. This made him more determined than ever. He took two arrows from his quiver, and used one in each hand - ramming the points into any small gap he could find between the stones. In this way he made better progress until he was about half way up the wall, then when he was certain he would make the top, the strangest thing happened. One of the stone blocks slid part way out from the sheer face of the wall, and went crash into his tummy, making him lose his grip. He grabbed onto the top of the block to stop himself from falling, but then it slid back into the wall leaving him with no handhold, and sending him plummeting to the ground. This time there was no mistaking the chorus of girlish giggles coming from the far side of the wall, and Hercules was so enraged he grabbed his club, smashing it again and again against the unyielding stones until splinters started to fly. His rage could have kept him going at this until there was nothing left of the club, but Hercules forced himself to stop. He sat down on the short grass and counted to ten, clearing his mind so that he could think properly. There had been something in Zeus' story that was important, something that could help if he could only remember. The Hesperides were Atlas' daughters, and they'd built this wall to protect the golden apples. What had they said?

'If we can't take the apples then no-one else shall have them'... 'except maybe father'.

That was it! Atlas would be able to enter the garden. The daughters would not refuse their father. It was not the direct approach that he would have preferred, but Hercules turned his back on the garden, and began to scan the mountainside for the easiest path up to the top of the world.

It was a long and difficult climb, taking Hercules through the clouds, up steep slopes and along narrow ledges, until finally he arrived at his destination. There, at the top of the highest mountain, stood the Titan Atlas. He was huge, as tall as a house, except that now he was bent low by the weight of the sky. One knee was placed on the ground, and his head was bowed so that the main load was on his shoulders and hands. All he wore was a loin cloth, so that after all this time under the sun, his skin had turned almost entirely black. At first he did not seem to notice Hercules, who stood silently staring up at him, until with a terrible creaking sound, he turned his head and fixed the hero with a sad but defiant gaze.

"What do you want, little man?" boomed Atlas.

Hercules did not answer at once, he looked up at Atlas a little while longer, studying him, then said, "It seems to me that the best way to support a heavy load would be on your head," Atlas raised one eyebrow and made no reply, so Hercules continued, "then your spine would be straight, and you could stretch more easily." Atlas still made no reply, so Hercules tried a different approach, "It must give you quite a pain in your neck to be bent like that for five thousand years. You could probably do with a break."

"Has Zeus sent you to torment me, little man?" Atlas asked finally.

"Quite the opposite," replied Hercules, "in fact I'm here to offer you the chance of a short holiday."

This made Atlas listen, and the sky seemed to move slightly as he shifted his body to get a better look at this tiny man. Having held up the sky for so long, all his muscles were knotted and twisted, and he was in terrible pain. Atlas would have done almost anything to be free of his burden, even for five minutes, but he also knew the gods and how tricky they could be, so he tried not to show any excitement or enthusiasm.

"Go on," was all Atlas said, but this was enough for Hercules to know that he had succeeded.

"All you need to do is to fetch me a golden apple from Hera's tree and I will grant you a whole hour's respite from your labour."

"And who will hold the sky while I am gone?" asked Atlas.

"I will," said Hercules, and he was surprised to suddenly hear thunder, although the sky was clear. Then he felt the ground shaking, which caused a few loose rocks to start rolling down the mountainside. Looking up at the Titan, he realised Atlas was laughing. His great body shook so that the sky wobbled on his shoulders, and tears of mirth forced themselves from the corners of his tightly closed eyes.

"You?" he said, when he had recovered, "the sky would crush you as flat as a pancake in less than a second."

Now, Hercules was not the boastful man that he had once been, but he realised that this was not the time for false modesty.

"I am not some ordinary mortal, to be addressed in such a way by the likes of you, Atlas. My name is Hercules, son of Zeus, and I am the strongest man that has or will ever live. I defeated the giants, I wear the cloak of an invincible lion, I have travelled the Underworld, and I demand your respect."

Now the Titan looked at Hercules in a different way, with acceptance, and it seemed like he would agree to the proposition, then his eyes clouded over and the moment was gone.

"I will fetch the apple for you," said the Titan slowly, "but first you must kill the serpent."

Hercules had no idea how he would achieve this, given that he could not even enter the garden, but he nodded nevertheless. He told Atlas that he would return once the serpent was dead, and then headed back down the steep slope to the hidden valley. However, rather than heading directly down to the valley floor, Hercules instead made his way along the slope, to a point where he could look down over the wall and see the tree itself at the centre of the garden. It was a great distance away, but even so Hercules could make out the coils of the serpent around the trunk, and even, here and there, a head poking out from amongst the leaves. He readied his bow, drawing the string back as far as it would go, took careful aim and released the arrow. It flew straight and true, but the distance was just too great and the arrow fell short, clattering against the wall. Next Hercules picked his way down the mountainside until he was sure that he was in range of the tree, only to find that from here his line of sight was blocked by the wall. Then he had an idea. He went down to the floor of the valley and walked up to the gate in the wall, or at least as close as he could get.

"Dear ladies," he shouted.

There was no answer except for a little giggling. Nevertheless, Hercules continued.

"Dear ladies, how difficult it must be for you to see those golden apples every day and never to be able to pick one," this time only silence answered his shouts, "wouldn't it be marvellous if a brave hero could rid you of the vile serpent, Ladon?"

Now there were distinct noises of rustling and shuffling, and the muted sounds of a whispered argument.

"No man shall ever enter our garden!" came the firm reply once the argument had finished, followed by a smaller voice adding, "except father."

"I will not need to enter your garden," said Hercules, "if you will give me your assistance."

There was more shuffling and muttering from the other side of the wall, then silence.

"Dear ladies, will you give me your assistance, PLEASE?" asked Hercules, politely.

To this came the immediate answer 'yes' followed by some giggles, so he explained his plan to the daughters of Atlas, and they agreed to put it into immediate effect. Hercules moved a short distance away from the wall, and notched an arrow to his bow. He took aim and fired high into the sky, sending the arrow curving up and then down over the top of the wall - to land in the middle of the garden.

"Too long," came a chorus of voices from inside the garden, so Hercules notched another arrow, shooting this one on the same path but slightly more softly. This time when the arrow landed the shout came, "too short." Now, sure of his range, Hercules selected one of the arrows dipped in the Hydra's poison, and having taken careful aim, he fired. The arrow seemed to pause at the very top of its flight, then plummeted back down towards the earth, striking home with a thud.

"A hit," came the shout. Then the small voice again, sounding quite scared, "oh dear, he seems quite angry."

From the garden came a loud and ferocious hissing sound followed by some girlish shrieks and the sound of running. Hercules hurried up the mountainside to his previous vantage point, worried that his arrow would not do its work. He saw a scene of chaos inside the garden, with Ladon chasing the Hesperides round and round in its pain and fury. Fortunately the daughters were nimble, and were able to stay away from the many heads until the poison first slowed and then halted the enormous serpent. With a last quiver of its tail, it fell to the ground and lay dead.

One part of his plan completed, Hercules started to make his way up the mountainside one more time, but before he had gone far the sun dipped below the horizon and night fell. In the darkness it was impossible to continue without risking a fall down some unseen precipice, so Hercules decided to rest for the night. He made the best camp he could, clearing stones to make a flat space on which to lie down, and settled to sleep under the stars. His mind, however, was fully awake, and his thoughts kept returning to the time he had left for the last challenge. Was it one week or two? How long had they spent travelling through the Underworld? There was no sun underground so it was impossible to count the days. Maybe if he could work out the distance they had travelled and the speed of the chariot he could calculate how long had passed, but that sounded like a job for Iolaus.

Eventually Hercules must have drifted off to sleep, for his dreams were filled with the giant Alcyoneus. Alcyoneus breaking his chains. Alcyoneus climbing to the surface. Alcyoneus roaring with rage, before beginning his reign of destruction... roaring... roaring?

Hercules woke to find that the roaring was real. It bounced off the sides of the mountains and around the rocks, filling the air. Scrambling to his feet, Hercules started running up the mountain as the first rays of the sun hit the tops of the taller rocks. The roaring could only be coming from Atlas, and if Atlas was hurt he might not be able to retrieve the apple. Hercules ran all the faster as the sun rose, until he reached the summit of the mountain and skidded to a halt in front of the roaring Titan.

"Where have you been?" asked Atlas, stopping his roaring, "what took you so long?"

Hercules ignored the question.

"Never mind that, are you injured? Why do you roar?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh that," Atlas said, looking a little embarrassed, "I didn't think anyone would hear," then he shook his huge head and explained, "the pain is always greater with the cold air of morning. I get terrible cramps in my muscles and roaring makes me feel better."

On hearing this, Hercules felt more sorry for him than ever, and suggested that now would be a good time to complete their bargain. The serpent was dead, he explained, and his daughters were safe. Hercules then found a good level place to stand, readied himself, and told Atlas to lower the sky onto his head. The weight was tremendous, and he felt his feet being pushed into the ground. Despite what Atlas had thought, however, he was able to bear it, and once the Titan saw that the sky was in safe hands he turned to head down the mountain.

"Don't fail to be back in one hour," called Hercules after him. Then, to be sure he wouldn't just run off, "if you are not, I shall summon Zeus and tell him that you have escaped. I can't imagine how bad your punishment would be for that crime."

Now Hercules could only wait and hope that Atlas would be successful. The sky felt like it was crushing him, and he thought that every minute he supported it must be making him shorter and shorter. What was worse, was that he now wished he had gone for a pee before taking the sky from Atlas. He really needed to go to the toilet, and he wasn't sure whether the ache in his arms was worse, or the ache in his bladder. The sun slowly crept higher in the sky, marking the passage of time, and although it already seemed like several hours had passed, the shadows still showed it was early morning. Hercules mustered every last scrap of his strength, courage and determination to keep the sky aloft. Then he began to think about how Atlas carried the sky on his shoulders rather than his head. Maybe that would make it easier. Slowly Hercules began to go down on one knee, bending his head forward until... screeeeech. Hercules was not as tall as Atlas, and he had brought the sky so low that it was now touching the top of a large rock away to his left. He tried to stand back up, but had gone too far, and instead he fell onto one knee. For a second the full weight of the sky fell onto that one rock, until an instant later, with a loud boom, it crumbled to powder. Quickly Hercules regained his feet, and balanced the weight once more on his head. Looking to his left, he was dismayed to see the sky was covered in hundreds of tiny scratches where it had rested on the rock.

"I'm sure from a distance it will just look like there's a cloud there," he told himself.

Now he was determined to stand still and wait for Atlas - no matter how bad the pain. If only he knew how long it would be. It seemed like an hour already. Maybe he should summon Zeus? But maybe Atlas was on his way back at this very moment. Zeus would be angry to be called on for no reason, and Zeus could be unpredictable when he was angry. I know, thought Hercules to himself, I'll start counting and then I'll know when an hour's gone by. I just need to figure out how high I should be able to count in an hour... Hercules was still trying to work out the number when Atlas arrived back. The Titan paused just below the summit, so as not to bump his head on the sky.

"Well, for a little man you are quite strong," said Atlas, grinning up at Hercules, then the grin faded, "is that a scratch?"

"No, no, just a cloud."

"It looks like a scratch to me."

"Have you got the apple?" asked Hercules, changing the subject.

"Yes, I do," replied Atlas, "and I saw Zeus too. He's not happy that you killed Hera's serpent. He says he's gone to find another one, so I'm to take the apple to Olympus on his behalf. You'll have to hold the sky up a little longer, I'm afraid."

"You're lying," said Hercules.

"How did you know?... I mean, no I'm not," replied Atlas.

"I know that you're lying, because I know that the apple is to be a gift from Zeus to Hera to celebrate their wedding anniversary. He would never let another man deliver it to her,"

Atlas looked almost comical as he tried to figure out whether or not to deny this accusation, so Hercules continued, "I know that the lie wasn't your idea, you're not clever enough to have come up with this alone."

"It's true," said Atlas, with a sheepish grin, "everything about me is big except my brain."

"So it must have been your daughters who put you up to this deception," Hercules said, "if you stop it now and take back the sky, then I promise not to call Zeus to punish you."

"Well, that's just the thing," said Atlas, the grin returning to his face, "my daughters have used their magic to cast a spell of silence around these mountains. You can call as loud as you want, Zeus won't be able to hear you."

Sure enough, although Hercules called and shouted for Zeus until he was hoarse, his father did not appear.

"And don't think you'll be able to move from that spot either," continued the Titan, "I've tried and the sky is much too heavy. So I'm free and you're stuck in eternal torment. Who's the dummy now?"

Well, what could Hercules do? He dropped his eyes to the ground, sighed a deep sigh of defeat and spoke to Atlas as follows:

"Very well, you win. I don't blame you for wanting to escape. This is a terrible punishment to endure. I hope you enjoy your freedom," then he looked up at Atlas and continued, "just, before you leave me here forever, will you grant me one last request."

"Of course," Atlas murmured, motioning for Hercules to continue.

"The sky is rubbing my head terribly. I'm sure it won't be long before it wears right through the skin. Please would you take the weight off for a few seconds while I make a pad out of my cloak to put on my head?"

Atlas said that this was the least he could do for someone who was so gracious in defeat. He put down the apple and climbed up to the summit so that he could rest his back against the sky. Then, with a great grunt, he lifted it off Hercules' head. As soon as he was free from the burden, Hercules dived for the apple, grabbing it in both hands and rolling quickly down the mountainside, out of the reach of Atlas.

"You tricked me," bellowed Atlas, for sure enough it was now he, not Hercules, who was pinned at the top of the mountain by the weight of the sky.

"It's no crime to trick a trickster," said Hercules, and when Atlas looked puzzled he explained.

"You broke your promise, and tried to trick me into carrying the sky forever. Now we are simply back to where we would have been if you had kept your word. All is fair."

"I see," said Atlas slowly, "I didn't behave very honourably, and now I've got what I deserve."

He seemed to like this idea and smiled. Then he thought some more and frowned, "honour can be quite painful, can't it." It wasn't really a question, so Hercules didn't reply, he simply turned and headed back down the mountain.

Hercules tried to summon Zeus several more times on his way down the mountain, as he was anxious to hand over the apple and complete the challenge, but he had no more success than before. In the end he decided to return to Iolaus and summon Zeus from there. First he returned to the valley floor, where the hind had been grazing peacefully the whole time. In fact she had grown quite bored and decided that now it was play time. She hid from Hercules by kneeling down in the long meadow grass, jumping up when he got near and running away. She thought it was a great game when he starting chasing her. She didn't notice how angry Hercules was getting.

"Don't you realise how short of time we are?" he growled when he finally caught her, "Alcyoneus could break free any day now."

The hind didn't really understand, but she could see that Hercules was cross and resolved to make amends by running extra fast once they got underway. Hercules quickly got the hind harnessed to the chariot and led her to the entrance to the Underworld. Then he took out the shadow compass, held it in his hand and whispered... nothing. He couldn't remember the name of the town where he had left Iolaus. He was the king, and he didn't even know what it was called! Fortunately he had a good idea – 'Erytheia' he whispered and, sure enough, the compass swung round to point into the cavern. With a flick of the reins and the thunder of hooves, they disappeared inside.

When he arrived back at the town, Hercules hunted everywhere for Iolaus, who he finally found talking to an old man up on the side of the mountain. They were discussing how to carry fresh water into the town and how to carry sewage out, as this was essential to keeping the population healthy. Iolaus was explaining how to build an aqueduct when Hercules interrupted angrily.

"Don't you know we're in a hurry. I don't even know how long we've got left and here you are discussing water works with this old man."

"This old man," replied Iolaus calmly, "is the town astronomer. He can tell the day, and many other things, from the positions of the stars."

"Your young friend and I," said the old man, "have calculated that in two days it will be exactly a year since Zeus appeared in your dream."

"Then we must be away," roared Hercules, "time is running out," and he started to move uneasily from one foot to the other, wanting to be doing something but not knowing exactly what.

"Calm yourself," said Iolaus, "everything is prepared. I see you still have the apple. You should summon Zeus and hand it over. While he is here you should ask about the next challenge. Once you know where we need to go and what we need to do, let's meet by the entrance to the Underworld."

Iolaus' sensible words calmed Hercules.

"Very well," he said, "you two take the chariot. I will wait here to summon Zeus, beyond the town walls and away from other people."

As soon as the chariot was a safe distance away, Hercules held the golden apple up towards the sky and shouted, "Father Zeus, come and claim what is yours!" Almost immediately there was a flash of bright white light and Hercules found himself standing, not on a mountainside, but on the steps of what looked like a huge temple. Above him rose massive columns of white marble, and below he could see a gently sloping lawn that disappeared into thick cloud only a stone's throw away. Inside the building he could see a huge room with an open fire burning at the centre. Around the fire were arranged twelve couches, and countless tables piled high with food and drink. Hercules only had a moment to take in these surroundings before, with no more disturbance than a shimmering in the air, Zeus appeared before him.

"Why have you brought me to Olympus?" asked Hercules.

He had immediately recognised the palace of the gods, which sat at the very summit of Mount Olympus. He had been there before, during the battle with the giants, when it had rung with the sounds of war cries and thunder.

"Foolish boy," snarled Zeus, and swept his spear with deadly speed at Hercules' body. Taken by surprise, Hercules nevertheless managed to bring forward his arm to block the blow, but the spear passed through his arm and body as if they were no more than mist. Hercules looked down, amazed to find himself unharmed and also dressed, not in his lion skin, but in a white smock tied with a golden chain at the waist.

"You're not really here," continued Zeus, "I have only brought your spirit to this place, so that we can talk. A raven will come to collect the golden apple. You should leave it on the ground when you return to your body."

"I hope your business with me will be short," said Hercules, with as much patience as he could 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 that 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 him, he saw the first glimmers of daylight from up ahead. He had been thinking hard about how he could meet up with Hercules in Tartarus and he had a plan. Before the first rays of light touched him, he bent down and tucked a large emerald into the top of his boot, then he walked on. As soon as the last cow had emerged into the evening sunlight, there was a crashing, roaring sound and the entrance to the Underworld collapsed, leaving Iolaus no way to rejoin Hercules and blocking Hercules' way back to the surface.

Meanwhile, Hercules was making better progress. The Ceryneian Hind, having been freed from the burden of leading the cattle, was enjoying being able to run at full speed. Hercules bounced along in the chariot behind, and the tunnel walls flashed by. The noise of the wind as they passed was loud enough to drown out the voices of the tempting shadows, and he stared straight ahead, enjoying the ride. At about the same time as Iolaus reached Troezen, the chariot emerged into a huge cavern. Through the middle of the cavern ran a broad river and on the far bank Hercules could see many shimmering figures moving this way and that. He urged the hind forward, and brought them to a halt beside a thin, mean looking man who stood on the bank next to a rickety old rowing boat.

"Ferryman," said Hercules, throwing him a coin, "I need you to take me across the river."

The thin man caught the coin and examined it with interest before biting down hard on it, showing his ragged and yellowing teeth. Once he was satisfied that the coin was real, he made sure he put it away carefully before answering Hercules.

"Now, you see, I can't do that. Hades is very clear that I am only supposed to take dead people across the River Styx and, no offence, but you look quite lively... and there's no refunds neither," he added quickly.

Hercules said nothing. He simply looked at the man, flexed his enormous muscles and scowled. It was such a ferocious scowl that the ferryman quailed and stammered and brought his hands up, as if to shield himself from the force of it.

"Mmmaybe I could make an exception, just this once," he stuttered. Then, recovering himself a little, he added, "but just you, not the animal or the chariot. This is a passenger ferry, it's not for cargo."

Still Hercules made no reply, but climbed into the boat and sat ready to go.

Although the ferryman was skinny, the river wide and the boat quite rotten, the trip to the far bank was smooth and quick. As Hercules leapt to the shore, many of the spirits who were there recognised his lion skin cloak and were frightened off on account of his fearsome reputation. Soon the panic spread, and in only a few moments the area was clear except for two spirits that had stayed behind. Recognising one, Hercules immediately covered his eyes and drew his club. He had seen the spirit of a woman, tall and beautiful, but with a serpent's tongue, and with snakes instead of hair. It was Medusa, the gorgon, whose look alone could turn a man to stone.

"Fear not," said the other spirit, "for the dead cannot harm the living."

Hercules did not trust him at first, but looking up he saw that this was the spirit of a man, clad in bright armour and carrying a hunting spear. Etched into his breastplate was the symbol of a boar's head.

"I know you," said Hercules, "you are Meleager, the brave and just hunter."

Thus reassured Hercules looked straight at Medusa. Amazed to find himself unharmed, he was nevertheless entranced by her beauty, and by the hissing dance of the snakes on her head. Medusa smiled at Hercules, who stood riveted to the spot. Meleager broke the strange spell by clearing his throat.

"Time passes more slowly here than in the world under the sun, but it passes nonetheless," he said, "I know of your quest and I would beg to be allowed to guide you to Hades' castle."

Back in the daylight, Iolaus was driving Geryon's cattle towards the walls of the city. There was a stable there, where he hoped to be able to leave them while he went to help Hercules. Now the sun had almost disappeared below the horizon, and he was afraid he wouldn't make it before nightfall. Desperately he tried to persuade the cattle to move faster, but after their long trip through the Underworld all they wanted to do was to stop and eat grass. Iolaus gave a last whoop of encouragement and a last wave of his arms and then the sun was gone and all was darkness. Strangely, the light had disappeared instantly, with no dusk to mark the passage from day to night, and Iolaus had to look carefully around himself to get his bearings. Peering back the way he had come, Iolaus was sure that he could see a patch of air that was darker than the rest. It shimmered and moved towards him, seeming to have a purpose. The shimmering darkness stopped right in front of Iolaus, and slowly transformed into the figure of Hades.

"Were my instructions not clear?" Hades asked as he stared into the young man's eyes, "did I not say to take nothing from my realm?"

Iolaus was too frightened to make any reply, but he was brave enough to hold Hades' eyes.

"Very well," continued the Lord of the Underworld, "as you offer no defence, I will pass judgement as I see fit."

Now he seemed to notice the cattle for the first time, who had continued to graze and wander around as if nothing unusual were happening. Hades admired the cattle briefly, then returned his attention to Iolaus. He strolled around the boy, looking him over.

"You have taken something from me," he said, "so now I will take something from you. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable, just your spirit."

And with this he touched Iolaus gently on the top of the head and Iolaus felt a tingling run from Hades' finger down to the tips of his toes.

"Now, follow me," commanded Hades.

"And what if I don't," said Iolaus, suddenly not frightened, and in fact, quite angry.

"You'll find it quite difficult to stay here without a body," replied the Lord of the Underworld, and he pointed to the ground. Iolaus looked down and saw his own body lying on the grass at his feet, eyes closed as if asleep. Then he looked at his hands, and was surprised to see they were pale - almost white. When he held them in front of his face he found he could see right through them.

"Now," said Hades again, "follow me."

Iolaus, in his new spirit form, trailed mournfully after his new master. They walked across the fields until Hades seemed to find a spot he recognised. Waving his hands in complicated patterns through the air, the Lord of the Underworld issued a command in a strange language that Iolaus didn't understand. Straight away the ground opened up and revealed a rough flight of steps leading into the darkness under the earth. They followed these down, and Iolaus found himself once more in the tunnels of Hades. Except these tunnels seemed different. Smaller and less well used, they gave the feeling of being a secret way, a back door, and Iolaus was careful to memorise every step and every turn of the journey. Sure enough they soon descended into an enormous cavern, and the whole of Tartarus was laid out before them. The path they followed was steep and hugged the wall of the cavern, so that it would be hidden from anyone looking from below. It gave Hades a way to enter or leave his kingdom without having to cross the River Styx. From the bottom of the path it was a short journey to Hades' palace, where he explained to Iolaus about his new life.

"You are to be my servant... at least until I tire of you. Your main duty will be as my cup bearer. It is not a very difficult job and over time I may find more challenging tasks for you, but for the moment it will do."

Then Hades handed Iolaus a set of clothes. They were plain and simple, with no colour to them apart from the emblem of a black helmet on the smock.

"Put these on so that everyone will know that you are in my service. Do not forget to wear them whenever you are outside the palace or you may be mistaken for a lost soul by my demon guards. I don't think you'd like to find out what the punishment is for getting lost around here."

Meekly Iolaus put on the uniform. He then paused in thought for a moment before saying, "As I am now your servant, I feel it is my duty to tell you that you are going to be robbed."

Hades stared at Iolaus in utter disbelief, but the young man found the courage to continue.

"Your brother Zeus has commanded Hercules to come to Tartarus to steal your dog. They intend to teach you a lesson and prove to everyone that Zeus is the greatest of the gods."

Fire flashed in Hades' eyes as he heard what Iolaus said.

"How dare they! In my own realm I rule completely. I am invincible. I will find Hercules, I will kill him and I shall deliver his body back to Olympus. Then Zeus can lay it on the couch he has prepared for his favourite champion, and everyone will see how he is weak and I am strong."

Hades turned to go, but Iolaus stopped him.

"For someone as powerful as you, that would be a simple thing to achieve," he said, "but these people have dared to invade your home. Unless you humiliate him completely and for all time, who is to say that Zeus won't try this again."

"What did you have in mind?" said Hades slowly.

"Zeus intended to steal your dog, you should steal his champion," said Iolaus, "get Hercules to stay here with you, for all eternity, not as a spirit but as a living being. And make him do it of his own free will. Who will doubt your power when you have taken Zeus' champion from him?"

Hades and Iolaus left the palace and set out to meet Hercules. Iolaus was dressed in his servant's outfit, and Hades had made him carry a silver tray on which sat a goblet of nectar. This was a drink that only the gods were allowed to enjoy. It was said that it was not only delicious, but also had magical powers - and it was incredibly rare. Carrying such a precious liquid, balanced on a tray, while walking across the rough landscape of Tartarus, was very difficult and Iolaus had to concentrate hard so as not to spill a drop. So hard, in fact, that he didn't realise that they had arrived, until Hades stopped in front of him.

"This is where we will wait for Zeus' champion," he announced.

As Hades took a sip of the nectar, Iolaus looked around. They were stood in the middle of a wide plain. The ground was covered with a grey-red coloured dust, and this was strewn with rocks and boulders of all different sizes - from little pebbles, to some as big as an elephant. In the distance to one side was a range of mountains, and beside them, Hades' palace looked as small as a doll's house. The air was still, even when a breeze did blow it was hot and brought no comfort. Iolaus noticed all these things, but what really held his attention was something only a few feet away. Lying on the ground, next to a boulder as big as a house, was the largest dog Iolaus had ever seen. He almost thought that it was too large to be called a dog, really it was a monster. It had three heads, all of which now seemed to be asleep, paws as big as millstones... and it stank. As Iolaus watched it, the middle head started sniffing and shifted slightly in its sleep, so that he could see it was secured to the rock with a thin chain. A chain that looked too delicate to hold Cerberus, should the beast want to escape. Seeing Iolaus tremble, and following his gaze, Hades decided to reassure him.

"That chain is made of Adamantium, the strongest metal known. Hephaestus himself made it for me. It is more than strong enough to hold my little pet."

Meleager had been as good as his word, guiding Hercules through the various dangers of Tartarus towards the palace of Hades. As they had walked, the two men had found that they had a lot in common. Both were warriors, they valued honour above all and they enjoyed the hunt. In fact they had become firm friends, and so, when he saw Hades in the distance, Meleager stopped Hercules to give him a warning.

"It is true that Zeus is mightier than Hades, and that he is rightly the ruler of the gods," the hunter said, "but Hades is proud and would never admit that he is weaker than his younger brother. That is why he spends most of his time here, in Tartarus. Here he is truly invincible. So beware, not even Zeus will be able to protect you here."

Having heard and understood these words, Hercules nevertheless headed forward, closing the distance between himself and the god of the Underworld with long, steady strides. Meleager advanced with him, glancing now and again at the grim look on Hercules' face and wondering what plan he could possibly have for surviving the coming encounter.

"So, Hercules," said Hades as the two approached, "you have come to teach me a lesson by stealing my pet."

Now Hercules saw Iolaus for the first time and could not conceal his surprise. Hades saw his expression and laughed cruelly before continuing.

"Yes, that's right, your dear friend is here with me. The merest suggestion of torture was enough to make him tell me all your plans."

Hercules shot a questioning glance at Iolaus, who moved back a step so that Hades could not see his face. He winked and clearly mouthed the word 'chain', quickly returning his features to a look of submission and regret when Hades glanced back at him. Hercules guessed that Iolaus had a plan, although he could not tell what it might be or what it had to do with chains. Or was he wrong? Faced with the full power of the Lord of the Underworld, had his friend betrayed him? Was this a trap?

"I could send you running back to Zeus," said Hades, "or I could make you a prisoner here, but whatever people may say about me, I am a sporting man. Maybe you would care to have a wager with me?"

Again Iolaus winked and nodded his head slightly, prompting Hercules to speak.

"Let me hear the terms of this wager. Then I will decide."

"The terms," replied Hades, "are simplicity itself. All you have to do is to beat Cerberus in a fair fight, then you may take him to Zeus."

"And if I lose?"

"Then you will stay here in Tartarus and serve me as my champion for ever."

There was a silence for a few moments as Hercules considered, eyeing up the huge dog that was now fully awake and licking its lips hungrily, but he did not hesitate for long.

"I accept," he roared, "Now, you had better unchain your beast. And maybe you should say goodbye at the same time."

"Very well," said Hades, and he motioned to Meleager to unhook the dog's chain from the boulder.

"If you can just put aside your weapons and your cloak, we can get started."

"Wwwhat," stuttered Hercules and Iolaus together.

Hades turned to face Iolaus and laughed.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't spot the trap you laid for me. I chose my words with care when I said it should be a fair fight. Cerberus carries no weapons of iron and he wears no impenetrable armour. He goes into battle naked, and so should Hercules."

Iolaus looked horrified and started to protest, but Hercules simply dropped his weapons and threw his cloak to the ground. Standing naked on the hot, dry plain he stared Hades in the eye.

"It makes no difference to me," he said, "I will still prevail. I am Hercules, son of Zeus, and this is just a dog."

"It's the size of a house," wailed Iolaus.

"Just a big dog," Hercules corrected himself.

"With three heads," said Iolaus, pausing slightly before adding in a more purposeful tone of voice, "even if it only has one neck."

Then there was no more time for talking as Meleager had climbed the boulder and unfastened the chain.

As soon as he was released, Cerberus came bounding towards Hercules. The beast was howling and baring his teeth, ready to tear the hero limb from limb. Hercules stood his ground until the last moment, then he dived to one side, Cerberus' teeth grazing his leg. The dog was too big to be agile and came skidding to a halt before getting ready to charge again. It was just about to bound forward when, pok – pok – pok, three stones hit it slap bang in the middle of each of its three foreheads. Hercules had a good throwing arm, but the stones were just too small and only seemed to enrage Cerberus, who shook his heads and launched himself forward. This time Hercules was a fraction slower, and he felt teeth raking down the side of his arm. When he looked there was a trickle of blood flowing from a scratch near his shoulder. It ran down to his hand and dripped onto the red sand, sending Cerberus into a frenzy of howling. As the dog threw back his heads, Hercules noticed the thin chain that hung round its neck and he remembered the word that Iolaus had mouthed. He knew that he couldn't keep dodging the dog's charges, so he had to try a new plan. This time he didn't wait for Cerberus to move first, with a roar of his own Hercules charged towards his adversary. Moments later the beast also started its charge and, as the two raced towards each other, Iolaus could only hope that Hercules had understood his plan. The moments passed with agonising slowness until, with perfect timing, Hercules dropped to the ground, launching himself feet first in a skid that took him straight under Cerberus' snapping jaws. Naked as he was, Hercules felt the sand burning his skin and sharp stones cutting into his flesh, but it was worth it. The dog was taken completely by surprise, all three of its heads bending low under its body in a vain pursuit of its prey. Now Hercules could already see that his plan had worked. He grabbed the end of the chain that trailed from Cerberus' neck and, jumping to his feet behind the dog, gave an almighty heave. The beast was still moving forwards with its heads down when it suddenly felt the jerk at its neck, bringing it to a halt. But Cerberus' body would not stop, it was moving too fast, and the poor dog went head over heels, landing with a terrible crash that caused ripples in the cup of nectar on Iolaus' tray. Hercules was on the beast in a flash. Wrapping the thin chain around its neck he pulled with all his might until the dog fell unconscious. He then loosened the chain and checked to make sure Cerberus was still alive. He did not have to get too close to know that this was the case, as the foul smell of its breath told him everything he needed to know.

Hades was furious, but there was nothing he could do. Hercules had won the bet fair and square. Now Hercules had Cerberus, but he had no idea how he would get such a beast across the River Styx or even through the narrow tunnels of the Underworld. Hades, who was a bad loser, had already turned to go. He paused only to snap an order to Iolaus

"Come on boy, and don't spill that nectar or I shall have you flogged."

Iolaus didn't follow immediately, he stayed to wave sadly at Hercules.

"Farewell my friend," he said, "I am bound by the law of the gods to stay here. I have something that belongs to Hades, and while I still have it, then my spirit must remain with him. I hope you find a quick way to the surface before Alcyoneus gets free."

At this point Iolaus looked firmly at the ground by his feet before turning to follow his new master.

Hercules cursed himself for not having looked after his friend better and he cursed himself for not having been quicker at the other challenges. If only he had been more willing to listen to Iolaus' good advice in the past maybe he would still have time to get to the surface now. Wait... maybe it wasn't listening he should have done more of, maybe it was watching. When Iolaus was saying goodbye, why did he stare so obviously at the ground? Hercules went over to where his friend had been standing, and what he saw made hope leap in his heart. There, in the dust, Iolaus had drawn a map. A map that showed the secret way by which Hades had brought him to Tartarus. A back way, a secret way, a way that didn't involve crossing the River Styx. This bit was clear, but next to it was a picture of a boot, which made no sense at all to Hercules. Still, one thing at a time. For the moment there wasn't a second to waste. Cerberus was waking up, so Hercules collected his things, memorised the map as quickly as he could, took hold of the chain and started to lead the dog back to the surface.

Although the secret way was meant to be a short cut, the journey up and out of Tartarus seemed quite long to Hercules. Cerberus was sulky and disobedient, and sometimes it felt like he had to be dragged along. The air was hot and dry. It burnt Hercules' throat, reminding him that he had left his water bottle back with the chariot and the Ceryneian Hind. The hind would have to be rescued, of course, but it would have to wait until Cerberus was safely delivered to the surface. Up and up they went, and then into a set of tunnels almost too small for the dog to squeeze along, until at last Hercules recognised that they were approaching the exit. Rounding one final corner, dragging Cerberus behind him, Hercules finally found himself starting at... a solid rock wall.

How could this be! Had he not memorised the map properly? Had Iolaus been wrong? Hercules frantically searched the rock face, looking for a door, or some sort of secret mechanism. He was sure that his last minutes of time were running out, and as if to confirm this, his search was interrupted by the unmistakable rumble of an earthquake which shook the tunnel and made dust fall from the ceiling. Their journey had taken too long and now Alcyoneus was heaving against his chains, starting to break free, and causing the whole world to shake. The quake stopped suddenly, but then started again, stronger than before. The low rumbling was now drowned out by a huge cracking sound that echoed like thunder round the tunnel walls. Hercules saw that a split had opened up in the rock wall, and through it he could see daylight - the sun had not yet set and there was still hope. With renewed strength, Hercules threw himself at the rock, and tried to pull apart the split with his bare hands. When this didn't work he jammed in one end of his club and used this as a lever. Although the wood bent and creaked, slowly the gap widened until it was big enough to allow them to escape. Hercules dragged Cerberus out into the open air, and as the last of the sun disappeared over the horizon he looked to the sky and shouted, "Zeus, I summon you. Come and claim what is yours."

At first nothing happened. The rumbling and shaking of the earth continued and Hercules was afraid that he was too late. Then, abruptly, the tremors stopped, and with a flash of lightning, Zeus appeared. The father of the gods paced backwards and forwards in silence, examining both Cerberus and Hercules, with a stern expression on his face. Cerberus seemed not to like Zeus. He lunged forward with his middle head, intending to take a bite out of him. Zeus calmly raised his spear and sent a small bolt of lightning, no more than a spark really, right into the dog's open mouth. Cerberus recoiled, coughed several times, and shook all three heads at once. After that, he was much more respectful.

"You have done well," said Zeus, suddenly turning his full attention to Hercules. "In completing the challenges, you have demonstrated the various virtues, and weaknesses, of humanity. You have proved that you are a man, not a god, and that the prophesy is fulfilled. The spikes that anchor Alcyoneus to the rock are secure, and now that the magic is complete, he will never be able to break free."

"So what now?" asked Hercules.

"For my part," answered Zeus, "I will return to Olympus and I will take Cerberus with me. He will become my guard dog, although I will have to do something about his breath and maybe give him a bath. For you," Zeus paused slightly before continuing, "anything you want. You are a man, maybe an exceptional man, but a man nevertheless. You will remain here and live amongst men, until it is time for you to join me in Olympus. Maybe you could make yourself their emperor. You have shown me that this iron race of men is stronger and more noble than I might have thought, but they will still need someone to show them the way."

"Then I shall lead them by my example," said Hercules, "not through tyranny or enslavement."

Zeus sighed, shaking his head.

"An odd way to do things, but it is your choice. I will go now, and I will not see you again, until you return to Olympus."

Zeus took Cerberus' chain and made ready to leave.

"Wait," cried Hercules, "what about Iolaus? Will you not help me rescue him?"

"Ah yes," said Zeus, "I have my pet and you want yours. He was brave and clever, for a mortal. A shame he had to die, but you never would have succeeded otherwise. Still, I'm surprised that you of all people would ask for my help in this. Don't men always have to pay their own debts."

And with that, Zeus and Cerberus disappeared in a blaze of white light and a crackle of electricity.

Now that his father had gone, Hercules could just make out the outline of a body lying in the grass nearby. He rushed over, and was both happy and sad to find that it was Iolaus. Thank goodness Cerberus hadn't stepped on him, he was so vulnerable just lying there in the open. Checking over the body, Hercules found no injuries, wounds or other marks. Nevertheless, Iolaus gave no response when shaken, pinched or prodded. Although he looked just as if he were in a deep sleep, he was cold to the touch and did not appear to be breathing. It was true then, and not an illusion. His spirit had left his body and was being held in the Underworld by Hades.

Hercules felt like crying. His friend had sacrificed his life, and he couldn't think of any way to bring him back. But Hercules didn't cry, and he didn't give up. Instead he tried to think back to anything he had seen or heard that would help him to help his friend. A man always pays his own debts, Zeus had said. A debt means something that you owe someone, for something they have given or you have taken. What did Iolaus say before he left with Hades? He said that he had something that belonged to Hades. How could that possibly be? Iolaus' body was here and Hercules couldn't see anything that his friend had apart from his own clothes. Wait, there was something else, something that had confused Hercules when he saw it in the dust of Tartarus. A picture that Iolaus had drawn. A picture of a boot. With a surge of excitement Hercules bent down and felt inside Iolaus' left boot, then he gently took it off and searched inside. Nothing, so he did the same with the right boot. Again, nothing. Of course, Hercules had been right. He had put the pieces of the puzzle together correctly and had come to the right conclusion. How was he to know that the emerald had dropped out of Iolaus' boot when the young man had fallen to the ground. The emerald was green, the grass was green and the sun had gone down.

The jewel might have lain unseen forever if, just at that moment, there had not been a flash of lightning. The emerald glinted, and Hercules saw it. In triumph he snatched it from the grass. Recognising it instantly as one of the jewels from the Underworld, Hercules knew what he had to do. He stood, and started back to where he had forced his exit from the Underworld. As he moved, a patch of darkness that was thicker than the rest moved to follow him, heading to block his path to the tunnel. Hercules broke into a run, but the darkness was faster. Just before he reached the split in the rock, Hades appeared - blocking his path.

"Get out of my way," growled Hercules.

"What, and lose my new servant? I don't think so," said Hades, "besides, I think you have something of mine and that means that I can take something of yours."

Hades started to reach forward with one hand, and Hercules clenched his fists ready for a fight. To his surprise, he found that he was holding his bow in his left hand. By instinct he must have unslung it as he was running. The emerald was held in his right hand, hidden from Hades, and this gave Hercules an idea, but he needed time. If Hades touched him then he would lose his spirit, and then he would be trapped in Tartarus, just like Iolaus.

"Stop, unless you want to suffer," he shouted.

Hades was so shocked at being spoken to in this way that he paused in his advance.

"Meleager told me all about you," Hercules continued, "he said that in your own realm you are invincible."

"That's true," replied Hades, "you cannot defeat me."

"But you're not in your realm," said Hercules, drawing an arrow with his right hand, "you're in my world now."

Quick as a flash, Hercules raised his bow and fired the arrow straight at Hades. For an instant the Lord of the Underworld was taken by surprise, but he was also fast. He snapped the helmet of darkness back over his head, and the arrow passed right through his body as it dissolved into a dark mist.

"You cannot harm me," he cackled, "I am a god."

"I didn't mean to harm you," said Hercules, "look where the arrow has gone."

Hades turned his misty form, and saw that the arrow had flown straight through the split in the rock and into the Underworld. Glinting in the eerie red light, he could also clearly see the emerald, which Hercules had pushed into the shaft of the arrow when Hades was distracted.

"Nooo," wailed Hades as the wisps of darkness that made up his body started to be drawn back towards the cave.

"Your property is returned," growled Hercules, "you have no more hold over me, or over Iolaus. You have no further business in this world and no right to remain. Return to Tartarus!"

As he watched, Hades was drawn back through the entrance to the Underworld and back down into the depths of the earth.

Hercules ran back to the body of his friend, but Iolaus showed no change.

"I know your spirit is free now," Hercules whispered, "and I know it will return soon. In the meantime I will stay here and protect your body from harm."

The people of the city found him still there in the morning. They brought him food and water, and they also sent a messenger to their king. Pittheus arrived soon after and offered what words of comfort he could, but in the end he said that Iolaus might never return and would it not be best to bury the body. Of course Hercules refused this advice, and insisted on staying at his friend's side all that day and the following night. Impressed by his devotion and his refusal to give up hope, the people constructed a shelter to keep off the rain. As more days went by, plans were made to build a temple on the spot where Iolaus' body lay so that, if necessary, he should have a permanent resting place fit for a hero.

On the tenth night, when all others had given up hope, and even Hercules was beginning to doubt himself, the hero was awakened by something wet on his face. He sat up with a start, amazed to find that it was the Ceryneian Hind licking him. More amazing still, he saw that there was a shimmering figure riding on the back of the animal. It was certainly the figure of a man, but so faint and indistinct as to be unrecognisable as any particular person. Nevertheless, Hercules was sure that it was the spirit of Iolaus, and this seemed to be confirmed as the figure dismounted and moved towards the body on the ground. Like a sleepwalker returning to bed, it walked once round the body, sat and then lay down, its form disappearing into, or maybe joining with, the features of Iolaus. For three long heartbeats nothing happened, then with a suddenness that make Hercules and the hind jump, Iolaus sat up. He looked around him with a puzzled expression on his face, as if trying hard to remember something. The look soon turned to fear, then to panic. A panic that almost spread to Hercules, but he kept calm. Looking at Iolaus, who was now clutching at his throat, Hercules suddenly remembered something about new born babies. Jumping to his feet, he hoisted Iolaus over his shoulder and delivered a huge slap to his bottom. Iolaus opened his mouth to cry out and there was a loud sucking noise as his lungs filled with air. Gasping, he struggled and kicked, until Hercules laid him back down on the ground, where he soon regained his breath. Now some of the colour was returning to his face, and he even ventured to try a little water, followed by a little bread. Still, it was not until morning that Hercules thought his friend well enough to be carried back to the city, and it was two days after that before Iolaus had recovered sufficiently to tell his story.

"I'm afraid that I don't remember very much," said the young man, "it's like a dream to me now, and the longer I'm back in this world the more the memory fades. I remember that Hades returned from the surface in a terrible temper, he took my uniform from me and forced me out of the palace, calling on his demons to come and claim me as a lost soul. For days I ran, hiding whenever the demons came near. They had blocked the secret way to the surface, but Meleager helped me and together we managed to trick the ferryman. Once across the river, I unharnessed the Ceryneian Hind and she allowed me to ride her through the tunnels of Hades, searching for an exit. I lost track of time in those tunnels, and it felt like I was losing myself as well, getting thinner and more transparent as each hour passed. How we got to the surface I don't know, I just remember suddenly wanting to lie down and go to sleep, and the next thing I knew I was back in my body."

Being young, Iolaus was soon fully recovered from his ordeal, and the people of Troezen held a huge celebration to honour both him and Hercules. There were tables heaped with food and drink, musicians encouraging people to dance and all kinds of games going on. At the height of the party, Pittheus called for silence. Everyone was expecting a long speech, but instead the king just said thank you, thank you for saving the world. Then he asked the crowd to follow him up into the city, to the square outside the public baths where he unveiled a statue. The statue showed two men, two friends - two heroes - riding in a chariot drawn by an enormous deer, off to face unknown dangers. Hercules admired the statue over the next few days, as he made his frequent visits to the baths, and Iolaus enjoyed some time spent with the many interesting people who visited Pittheus' palace. But neither of them could stay in one place for long. The call of new adventures was strong in their ears, and soon they had made their plans, packed their provisions and set off to win new glories. There would be many more stories told of Hercules and Iolaus, but when they grew old and talked of their past deeds, their thoughts would always return to their greatest triumph - when they completed twelve great labours and saved the world from Alcyoneus.

T H E E N D
An Apology To Scholars

Readers who are as smart as a whip, or possibly bright as a button, will have noticed that not everything in this book is absolutely true. To be more correct, my story differs in some important aspects from how the experts agree the story should be told. I can only say, in my defence, that I have made these changes because my intention was to be more entertaining than educational. Indeed, I could argue that such changes are part of the glorious 'oral tradition', where storytellers round campfires would often add their own twists and turns to familiar stories in order to hold their audience in rapt attention. However, I fear I'm about three thousand years too late to claim to be a part of this oral tradition. Besides, some of my changes are pretty significant. In deference to scholars, who take this sort of thing seriously, I've listed my major crimes below...

I have called my hero (one of my heroes) Hercules, which is the name given to him by the Romans. The Greeks called him Heracles, which means 'Glory of Hera' – Hera being a goddess and wife of Zeus. This is now helpful, as below I'll use 'Heracles' when referring to the hero of scholarly Greek myth, and 'Hercules' when referring to the hero of this story.

Hera did not like Heracles. She was not his mother, but still he was her husband's son – in other words, Hera was like a wicked stepmother to Hercacles. She prevented Heracles from becoming king by causing his cousin, Eurystheus to be born first so that he became heir to the throne. Later, Hera sent two serpents into the nursery of Heracles in order to kill him, but Heracles strangled them both.

Not one to forget a grudge, when Heracles was a grown man, and at the height of his powers, Hera drove him mad. In this madness he succeeded in killing his entire family (no earthquake stopped him). As punishment, Zeus was forced to agree that Heracles must become a servant of Eurystheus and perform, at his bidding, ten labours. Hera and Eurystheus conspired and schemed to try to make the labours impossible – they even increased the number to twelve, saying that Heracles 'cheated' on two of them – but Heracles confounded them every time.

As I chose not to include Hera's hatred in my story, I needed another motivation for Hercules to undertake the labours. The battle against the giants is genuine, but the use of the magic herb is my invention – Heracles dispatches the giants in more traditional fashion. It is also true that Heracles could not, at first, kill Alcyoneus. The king of the giants was constantly regenerated by contact with the soil of his native land. Heracles had to drag him into a different country before he could be killed. I prefer the idea that Alcyoneus remains alive, chained at the centre of the earth, his angry struggles being the cause of earthquakes to this very day.

Pittheus and the city of Troezen are borrowed from the story of Theseus. Eurystheus is weak, cowardly, stupid and dishonourable – not really my kind of guy. To fit the story, I needed someone who could be a mentor and benefactor to Hercules, helping him through his journey to becoming a better man. This change was also helpful, given my decision to gloss over the feud between Hera and Heracles.

Perseus, of course, did not accompany Heracles to steal Hippolyte's Girdle, as he was not alive at the time – Perseus was a distant ancestor of Heracles. In fact it was Peleus and, possibly, Theseus who were part of the crew.

I'm sure there are numerous other deviations and embellishments that you will have spotted. If you are interested in studying the myths as a scholarly pursuit, I would recommend:

Graves, Robert, _The Greek Myths, The Complete and Definitive Edition_ (London, 1955; combined, reprinted, 2011)

About The Author

Joe Corcoran was born in Sheffield, grew up in Manchester, was educated in Cambridge and now works in London. He is a devoted husband to Mickey and proud father of Toby, who is the patient recipient of many stories in the making. They live in a nice little house in Twickenham, home of English rugby and match day traffic congestion. Together, Joe and Toby wage an eternal battle against urban foxes - especially their droppings.

The income from his writing being negative, Joe pays the rent by working for a big multi-national. He is an expert in supply chain, which is the art of getting the things that people want to sell to the place where people want to buy them, and he travels the world dispensing advice on the subject. When he is not travelling, Joe works in an office in central London. He commutes every day by train, which provides his main opportunity for writing stories.

You can find out more about Joe and keep up to date with his other books and stories at <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/corcorelli>.

