‘The other way is by land,’ Aethra said, ‘which is extremely dangerous and infested with tacky outlet malls. The journey will take you many days and might get you killed.’
‘Awesome!’
Aethra knew he would say that. He was always picking the most dangerous path, and she figured she’d better warn him of what lay ahead.
‘I know of at least six deadly enemies on that road,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you about them. Try to pay attention.’
Theseus jumped about, slicing the air. ‘Yeah, I’m totally listening!’
Aethra told him everything she knew. It was hard for her to concentrate with Theseus doing his kung-fu sandal-fighter routine. She doubted he heard a word she said.
‘Please, son,’ she pleaded, ‘the six villains along the road to Athens are much worse than the local bandits you’re used to. They’ve made land travel between Troezen and Athens impossible for generations.’
‘Then I will kill them and make the road safe!’ Theseus kissed his mother and went running down the hill, waving his new saber. ‘Bye, Mom! Thanks for everything!’
Aethra exhaled. Without Hurricane Theseus blowing through the palace, she might finally get a good night’s sleep. She wasn’t too worried about her son on the road. But the bandits and monsters? They had no idea what was coming their way.
It didn’t take long for Theseus to find his first enemy, which was good, because he needed to burn off some energy.
He was sloshing down a muddy path, enjoying the scenic landscape of dead trees and burned-out villages, when he happened across a big ugly man standing in the road. Across his shoulder was a gleaming bronze club. Around his feet, the ground was littered with fuzzy smashed spheres, like mouldy cantaloupes.
As Theseus got closer, he realized the cantaloupes were human heads – all sprouting from the mud, still attached to bodies that had been buried upright. Apparently, the unfortunate travellers had been used for an evil game of Whac-A-Mole.
‘Halt!’ roared the guy with the club, which was stupid, since Theseus had already stopped to admire the bashed heads. ‘Give me all your valuables! And then I will kill you!’
The bandit stood about seven feet tall. He was slightly smaller than an armoured truck, and his face was so ugly and swollen it looked like he washed it with fire ants. His arms rippled with muscles, but his legs were shrivelled and twisted, encased from thigh to ankle in bronze braces.
‘I’ve heard of you!’ Theseus said. ‘You’re Periphetes!’
See, he really had been listening to his mom’s stories, which proves that you should never underestimate an ADHD hero. We soak up way more information than you might give us credit for. Running around while swinging a sword is just our way of concentrating.
Anyway, this guy Periphetes (pronounced Pair-of-Feet-is) was a demigod son of Hephaestus who had inherited his dad’s strength and his deformed legs. He squinted so much that people sometimes thought he only had one eye and they mistook him for a Cyclops (no offence to my Cyclops friends and family).
Periphetes puffed up his huge chest. ‘My legend precedes me! If you know who I am, you know it is useless to resist!’
‘What’s with all the heads?’ Theseus asked. ‘Did you bury them and then kill them, or –’
Periphetes laughed. ‘I pounded them into the ground with my club! That’s what I do! My nickname is the Clubber!’
‘Oh.’ Theseus scratched his armpit. ‘I thought they called you the Clubber because you went to a lot of discos.’
‘What? No! I am violent and terrifying and I smash people into the mud!’
‘So … we can’t hit some parties tonight, chat up the ladies, do some boogying?’
Periphetes scowled. He wasn’t used to being asked to boogie. ‘I will rob you and kill you, puny boy. Those are nice shoes. Give them to me!’
He brandished his mighty club, but Theseus didn’t tremble in terror the way he was supposed to.
‘That is a fine club,’ Theseus said. ‘Is it wood covered with bronze?’
Pride warmed Periphetes’s heart. He was a vicious murderer, but he was also a son of Hephaestus. He liked it when people appreciated his craftsmanship. ‘Why, yes! A solid oak core wrapped in twenty sheets of bronze. I find it gives me a really good swing.’
Theseus scowled. ‘Twenty sheets of bronze? C’mon, man. That would make it too heavy for anyone to carry.’
‘I am strong!’
‘Are you sure that’s not Styrofoam wrapped in aluminium foil?’
‘Yes! I’m sure!’
‘Prove it. Let me check it out.’
Periphetes couldn’t see any harm. He figured this puny boy would collapse under the weight of the club, which would be good for a laugh. He passed his club to Theseus. Instead of collapsing, Theseus swung it and smacked Periphetes upside the head, killing him instantly.
‘Yep!’ Theseus said. ‘That’s bronze over wood, all right! Thanks, man. I think I’ll keep this.’
Periphetes didn’t argue, since he was dead. Theseus slung his new favourite weapon over his shoulder and continued travelling, occasionally darting into the woods to look at squirrels, racing ahead to check out shiny objects in the road or stopping randomly to stare at bugs. That’s where the old saying comes from: Walk aimlessly and carry a big stick.
I’m pretty sure that’s how it goes.
As Theseus moved north, the smarter monsters and bandits got out of his way. The dumber ones got their heads smashed in.
After a few days, Theseus arrived at the narrow land bridge that connected the Peloponnese to the northern mainland called Attica. Since this was a natural choke point, it was also prime bandit real estate.
Theseus was strolling through a forest of tall pine trees when he saw a dude dressed like a lumberjack – jeans, flannel shirt, bushy black beard and a cap over his curly hair. Somehow, the guy had bent a fifty-foot pine tree and was pinning its top to the ground with both hands. The man grinned when he saw Theseus.
‘Hello, stranger! My name is Sinis, and over there is my daughter, Perigune.’
A pretty young lady in a flannel dress peeked out from behind a tree. She waved nervously. Her expression said Flee! Please!
Theseus smiled at the lumberjack. ‘Why are you holding a pine tree to the ground?’
‘Oh, it’s just a hobby of mine,’ said Sinis. ‘They call me the Pine Bender!’
‘Catchy nickname.’
‘Yeah, I like to challenge people. Anybody who can hold down a pine tree like I’m doing now can marry my daughter. Nobody yet has been able to do it. You want to give it a try?’
Theseus came closer. He could see Sinis’s limbs trembling. Holding down a fully grown pine tree, even for this dude with lots of muscles and lots of experience, was not easy.
Luckily, Aethra had told Theseus about Sinis, so he knew what to expect.
Sinis was a son of Poseidon. He’d inherited his dad’s super strength and the ability to keep his footing in almost any situation – I guess because Poseidon was the Earthshaker and could make even the roots of the earth tremble. (I didn’t inherit those traits from Poseidon, but I’ll try not to be bitter.)
When Sinis was young, he had amused himself by bending tall trees and then letting them go, catapulting watermelons and cute forest animals into the stratosphere. He was a swell guy that way. Then he realized he could catapult humans. All he had to do was trick them or force them into holding the top of the tree when it was on the ground.
Over the years, he’d perfected his hobby. Sometimes he tied his victims’ hands to the treetop so they couldn’t loosen their grip. Sometimes he bent two trees at once. Then, since his hands were full, he would command Perigune to tie his victim’s left arm to one tree and his right arm to the other. Then Sinis would let both trees go at once. Boy, that was super fun! You never knew how much of the victim would fly off in either direction.
‘Interesting challenge,’ Theseus said. ‘Theoretically speaking, what happens if I de
cline?’
‘Oh, well then, theoretically speaking, you’d be insulting my daughter’s beauty, so I’d insist on an even tougher challenge. I’d tie you to two pine trees, one to each wrist. I’d force you to hold them both down as long as you could. And when you eventually got tired – ’
‘Gotcha,’ Theseus said. ‘So I can hold down one pine tree for a chance at the beautiful girl. Or I can hold down two pine trees and win certain death.’
‘You’re a quick learner!’
‘What if I just run away?’
Sinis laughed. ‘Good luck with that. See all those skeletons littered among the pine cones?’
‘I was wondering about those.’
‘Those are the guys who declined my challenge. I’ve never lost in hand-to-hand combat, so fighting me is futile. And if you try to run … well, I’m deadly accurate up to three miles with a pine-tree catapult. I can peg you with a flying boulder or a moose.’
‘I have no desire to be hit by a flying moose,’ Theseus said. ‘I’m up for the one-tree challenge!’
‘Excellent! Come on over!’
Theseus put his club aside. He approached the Pine Bender and sized up the situation. He wasn’t as strong as Sinis. He didn’t have the ability to root himself to the earth. He didn’t even have a plan. But he glanced over at the girl Perigune and his distractible brain started racing. A girl in the trees. A girl. A tree. Trees have spirits. I’m hungry. Wow, Sinis smells bad. A dryad. I bet the dryads in these trees are really tired of getting bent. Hey, there’s a chipmunk.
‘Any day now,’ Sinis muttered, sweat trickling down his neck.
Theseus touched the branches of the pine with his fingertips. He thought, Hello, in there. You want to get rid of this Pine Bender guy? Help me out.
He wasn’t sure if the dryad heard him, but he gripped the top of the tree.
‘Got it?’ Sinis asked. ‘I want to be sure you have a firm grip.’
He was very courteous to people he was about to murder.
‘Yeah,’ Theseus said. ‘I got it.’
‘Okay, but just for safety …’ Sinis carefully took one hand off the tree. From his back pocket he pulled a leather strap. He tied Theseus’s left wrist to the tree, which isn’t easy to do one-handed, but Sinis had had a lot of practice. ‘There you go. Now you are properly buckled in for your trip. See you!’
Sinis jumped back. He expected the pine to spring skyward as usual, launching Theseus into orbit, probably minus his left arm.
The tree didn’t move. Theseus held it firmly to the ground.
Maybe the spirit of the tree helped him. Also, Theseus was strong and smart. He knew how to apply the least amount of pressure to get the maximum results – like, for instance, to send a massive boulder rolling through a village.
He kept his feet firmly planted. His arms weren’t even straining.
‘So,’ he said, ‘how long do I have to hold this before I win your daughter?’
Sinis overcame his shock. ‘I – I’m amazed you’re still managing, little man. But you’re only human. Eventually you’ll run out of strength. Then you’ll die.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said Theseus. ‘In that case, I’d better get comfortable. This safety strap really chafes.’
He took one hand off the tree. The tree still went nowhere. He drew his sword and began sawing off the leather strap.
‘What are you doing?’ Sinis cried. ‘If you think you can just step away from this challenge –’
‘No, no. I’ll keep holding the tree.’ Theseus sheathed his sword. He continued to hold the pine with one hand. ‘I can do this all day. How long do you want to wait?’
Theseus was betting that Sinis, being a demigod, was just as ADHD as he was.
Sure enough, in about ten seconds Sinis got impatient. ‘This is impossible! What’s your secret?’
‘It’s all about the grip,’ Theseus said. ‘Come here, I’ll show you.’
Sinis edged forward.
‘Okay,’ Theseus said. ‘See how the top of my hand is positioned?’
Sinis couldn’t see through the pine needles unless he leaned over and looked directly down. When he did, Theseus let go of the tree. The pine sprang up, smacking Sinis in the face and knocking him out cold.
Hours later, the Pine Bender woke from a dream about flying moose. He was groggy. His mouth tasted like a Christmas tree. He realized he was lying spreadeagled on the forest floor.
Theseus’s grinning face hovered above him. ‘Good, you’re up!’
‘Wh-what –?’
‘Listen, I was thinking about that two-tree challenge. I thought you could show me how it’s done.’
Sinis struggled. His wrists were firmly bound. ‘What have you done?’
‘Well, I’ve got two pine trees bent to the ground right behind your head. I’m holding them both down with my foot. Your wrists are tied to them, so, if I were you, I’d get up and get ready.’
Sinis yelped. He struggled to rise, which wasn’t easy with his hands tied. He had to do a sort of crab-walk somersault to get a grip on the trees. ‘You can’t do this!’
‘Whoops!’ Theseus stepped back, leaving Sinis to hold the pines.
Sinis had been bending trees all his life. He was super strong and could keep his footing in almost any situation. But now he was groggy and in pain. The two trees seemed to be actively fighting him, straining to be free. The pines felt … angry.
‘How?’ Sinis wailed. ‘How could you possibly hold down both trees and tie me up?’
‘I had help.’
The bandit’s daughter peeped out from behind a tree. ‘Hi, Dad.’
‘Perigune, no! Release me!’
‘Sorry, Dad. This handsome man won your contest, so I belong to him now. Bye!’
Theseus picked up his club. He and Perigune walked away, hand in hand, while Sinis screamed behind them.
‘You sure you’re okay with this, Perigune?’ Theseus asked.
‘Ugh, yes. My dad is horrible! It was only a matter of time before he flung me into the sky.’
‘I wonder how long he can hold down those trees.’
From behind them came a stifled wail, followed by the whoosh of two trees snapping upward and a sound like a five-hundred-pound bug hitting a windshield.
‘Not long,’ Perigune said. ‘You want to get some dinner? I’m starving.’
They walked to the nearest town and spent a few nice days together. Some stories say that Perigune even had kids with Theseus, but I wasn’t there, so I’m not going to gossip. After a while, Theseus explained that he had to keep travelling. He had business in Athens. Perigune had seen enough of the road and evil bandits, so she decided to stay put and make a new life for herself. They parted as BFFs.
After another lovely day in the wastelands, Theseus came to a village called Crommyon. In the town square, a crowd of locals was wailing and sobbing. Theseus wondered if they were upset because they had to live in a village called Crommyon. Then he realized they were gathered around the mangled body of an old man.
‘What happened to him?’ Theseus asked.
A boy looked up with tears in his eyes. ‘It’s that old lady and her pig!’
‘ ’Scuse me?’ Theseus asked.
‘Phaea!’ the boy shouted. ‘She lives out in the wilderness with her massive man-eating sow.’
‘They’re both monsters!’ a woman cried. ‘That sow has destroyed the entire countryside. It eats our crops, kills our farmers, knocks down our houses. Then that old lady Phaea comes along afterwards and loots our valuables.’
‘I can fix that,’ Theseus said. ‘Let me kill the old lady and her pig.’
That may not sound like the most heroic promise, but the townspeople gasped and grovelled before Theseus as if he’d dropped from Mount Olympus.
He did look sort of like a god. He had a huge bronze club, an expensive sword and incredibly nice shoes.
‘Who are you, O stranger?’ one guy asked.
‘I am Theseus! Son of
Aegeus, king of Athens! Also son of Poseidon, god of the sea! Also son of Aethra, princess of Troezen.’
The peasants fell silent as they tried to do the maths.
‘Never mind!’ Theseus said. ‘I will kill the bandit Phaea and her pet monster, the Crommyonian Sow!’
‘Oh, please don’t call it that,’ said a farmer. ‘We don’t want our town to be immortalized because of a man-eating pig.’
And so the pig was forever after called the Crommyonian Sow, and that’s the only thing the village is remembered for.
Theseus roamed the countryside, searching for the offending porker. She wasn’t hard to find. Theseus simply followed the trail of dead bodies, trampled crops and burning farmsteads. The sow was as big as a barn, which was an easy comparison since she was standing in the shell of one, rooting around for dead farmers. Her mottled grey hide was covered with sword-size bristles. Her hooves were caked with splattered gore. And her smell … wow. Even from across the field, the stench almost knocked Theseus out. He doubted he’d ever be able to eat bacon again.
‘Hey, pig!’ he yelled. ‘Tasty, yum, yum!’
Those were the magic words.
The pig turned, saw a juicy morsel of hero and charged.
I can tell you from personal experience, there is nothing cute or funny about a charging giant pig. When you see those mean dark eyes and that toothy snout coming at you (oh, yes, they have teeth), all you want to do is run screaming to the nearest pig-proof bunker.
Theseus held his ground. At the last second, he dodged to the left and stuck the pig with his sword. The sow squealed in rage. She turned and charged again. This time Theseus dodged to the right.
Another thing about giant pigs: they aren’t very smart and they can’t turn worth crud. Don’t ever try to parallel-park one. It won’t work.
Theseus played matador until the pig was exhausted and bleeding from so many wounds, it just collapsed in the field. Then Theseus walked over, hefted his bronze club and said nighty-night to the Crommyonian Sow.
Theseus was wiping the pig blood off his club when he heard a shriek.
A fat woman in a sackcloth dress was hobbling towards him, a large battleaxe in her hands. Her skin was mottled grey. Her hair stuck up in a dark thicket of bristles.