Things escalated.
Hercules went crazy and started tearing up the shrine. He chased the Oracle around the room, trying to hit her with her own three-legged stool. The priestess screamed and sprayed her pepper spray.
Apollo came down from Mount Olympus and got into it. He and Hercules were punching each other, throwing each other onto the floor, shooting each other in the butt with arrows. The whole scene was like a daytime talk-show brawl.
Finally Zeus put a stop to it. A lightning bolt angled into the cave and hit the floor between Hercules and Apollo, blasting them apart.
‘ENOUGH!’ boomed the voice of Zeus. ‘APOLLO, CHILL! HERCULES, RESPECT THE ORACLE!’
Hercules calmed down. Reluctantly, he and Apollo shook hands. Hercules cleaned up Delphi, then agreed to be sold into slavery.
Hermes, the god of commerce, conducted the auction. The winning bidder was a queen named Omphale, who ruled the kingdom of Lydia over in Asia Minor. Since female rulers were rare back then, Omphale was glad to have an enforcer like Hercules to make sure people obeyed her.
Hercules ran a lot of errands for her – the usual wars, monster clean-ups, pizza deliveries and assassinations. One of the most famous incidents: these two crazy dwarf twins called the Kerkopes – Akmon and Passalos – were causing all sorts of havoc in the kingdom. They robbed merchants, stole stuff from convenience stores and played practical jokes, like changing the highway signs, or replacing the army’s weapons with Nerf spears. Basically they were a Category Five nuisance, so Omphale sent Hercules after them.
Hercules found them easily enough, but they were hard to catch. The little guys were as slippery as otters and their teeth were just as sharp.
Eventually, Hercules succeeded in tying both of them up.
‘Let us go!’ yelled Akmon. ‘We’ll give you shiny presents.’
‘Shut up,’ grumbled Hercules.
‘We will tell you jokes!’ offered Passalos.
‘You’re going to the queen,’ Hercules said. ‘She doesn’t have a sense of humour.’
He attached the Kerkopes to the end of a stick, hanging upside down from their ankles, then slung them over his shoulder like a hobo’s bag. He set off down the road, and the Kerkopes immediately busted out laughing.
‘Black Bottom!’ said Akmon. ‘Oh, my gods, HA-HAHAHAHAHA!’
‘It all makes sense!’ cried Passalos. ‘Mother was right! HAHAHAHAHA!’
Hercules stopped. ‘What are you two idiots laughing about?’
The dwarf twins pointed at Hercules’s rear end. His tunic was riding up on his sword belt and, since Greeks didn’t wear underwear, Hercules was walking around with his buns on full display.
‘You’re so tanned you have a black bottom!’ Akmon cried with delight.
Hercules scowled. ‘You’re laughing at my butt?’
‘YES!’ Passalos had tears in his eyes. ‘Years ago, our mother warned us of a prophecy: Beware the Black Bottom! We didn’t know what it meant, but now we do.’
‘Great,’ Hercules muttered. ‘Now, shut up.’
‘Black Bottom, Black Bottom!’ The twins teased him for miles. At first it was annoying, but after a while it was so ridiculous that it became funny to Hercules.
At nightfall he stopped for dinner. As he sat by his campfire, the Kerkopes told him funny stories and stupid jokes until Hercules’s sides hurt from laughter. Why did the Chimera cross the road? How many Spartans does it take to change a lightbulb? The dwarfs knew all the classics.
‘All right, you two,’ Hercules said. ‘I’ll make you a deal. If you promise never to make trouble in Omphale’s kingdom again, I will set you free. You’re too amusing to kill.’
‘Hooray!’ said Akmon. ‘We are amusing!’
‘All hail the Black Bottom!’ cried Passalos.
Hercules cut them loose and went on his way. He felt pretty good about it, and then he discovered that the Kerkopes had stolen his sword and all his money. Still, he couldn’t help chuckling. The world needed more jokesters.
Finally Hercules finished his years of service to Omphale. She offered to marry him, but he politely declined. It was hard to get past the fact that they’d started their relationship as slave and master.
He decided to look elsewhere for a wife.
You can probably guess how that worked out …
Hercules wandered for quite a while, killing bandits and random monsters until he happened across the city of Kalydon.
You might remember that place from the Death Pig Celebrity Hunt. The royal family had had a rough few years. Meleager and most of the other princes were dead, but King Oeneus still had one beautiful daughter named Deianeira. She and Hercules fell in love instantly.
By the time dessert was served, Hercules had proposed.
The whole family was delighted. Sure, Hercules had a bad reputation, but so did the Kalydonians.
‘There’s only one problem,’ said the king. ‘Deianeira is already betrothed to the local river god, Achelous. I had to promise him my daughter to keep him from flooding the countryside.’
Hercules cracked his knuckles. For the first time in years, he felt like he was taking on a task he really cared about, just because he wanted to. ‘Leave this river god to me.’
He marched down to the riverbanks and called, ‘Achelous!’
The god rose from the water. From the waist down, he had the body of a bull. From the waist up, he had the body of a man, with horns jutting from his forehead.
‘What do you want?’ said Achelous.
‘To marry Deianeira.’
‘She’s mine.’
‘We’re going to fight for her. Whoever loses must promise to take no vengeance upon her, her family or the city.’
‘Fine,’ said Achelous. ‘I am afraid of no mortal. What’s your name, anyway?’
‘Hercules.’
The river god went pale. ‘Oh, crud.’
Hercules launched himself at the bull man. They thrashed around for hours, trying to kill each other, but of course Hercules was stronger. He broke off one of the god’s horns, then held him in a chokehold until Achelous relented.
‘No vengeance,’ Hercules said. ‘That was the deal.’
The river god scowled, rubbing the stump of his broken horn. ‘Oh, I won’t take revenge. I won’t need to. Your marriage will end in disaster. Deianeira would have been better off with me.’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
Hercules walked back to Kalydon in triumph. Achelous’s broken horn became a cornucopia, capable of spewing forth all kinds of food, drinks and gluten-free snacks. Hercules offered it up to the gods in honour of his marriage, and for a few weeks he and Deianeira were deliriously happy … until Hercules messed up again.
One night they were having dinner in the Kalydonian throne room as usual, when a serving boy accidentally spilled cold water all over Hercules’s hands.
‘GAH!’ Without seeing who had made the spill, Hercules lashed out and backhanded the kid across the room, instantly killing him.
That put a damper on the evening. Hercules was mortified, especially since the kid was a kinsman of the king. The nobles realized the death wasn’t intentional. The boy’s father forgave Hercules. But Hercules still felt bad. He decided to leave the city, since exile was the usual punishment for manslaughter. King Oeneus didn’t protest very hard. He was getting the sense that Hercules was a walking time bomb.
So Hercules and Deianeira set off for the city of Trachis. Hercules had heard that the king there was looking for a new general, and it seemed as good a place as any to make a fresh start (for what, the twentieth time? I’ve lost count).
Along the way, they came to a wide river with no easy way across. Hercules and Deianeira walked along the bank, looking for a bridge or a shallow place to ford, but they found none.
‘I can swim across,’ Hercules offered. ‘You can cling to my neck.’
‘Honey, this is my best dress,’ said Deianeira. ‘Everything I own is in this bag. If
we have to swim, a lot of stuff will get ruined.’
A voice from the woods said, ‘I can help!’
A centaur stepped forward. He had a friendly smile and a well-groomed beard, which was a good sign in a centaur.
‘My name is Nessus,’ he said. ‘I ferry passengers across the river on my back all the time. Just pay me whatever you think is fair.’
‘Oh, Hercules,’ said Deianeira, ‘it’s perfect!’
Hercules wasn’t sure. He’d dealt with a lot of centaurs before. Some, like old Pholus who’d shared his wine, were really nice. Some were not.
‘You can trust me,’ Nessus promised. ‘The gods gave me this job because I have such a great reputation. Nothing but five-star reviews on Yelp. Look me up!’
Hercules still felt uneasy, but Deianeira pleaded, and the centaur’s Yelp reviews sounded pretty impressive. ‘Fine. Take my wife across first. Be careful! Do a good job and I’ll pay you well.’
‘You got it, boss!’
Deianeira climbed onto the centaur’s back and he forged into the river.
Unfortunately, Nessus had been lying about his reputation. His Yelp reviews were more like: VERY DISAPPOINTED. TERRIBLE CUSTOMER SERVICE. I WILL NEVER USE THIS CENTAUR AGAIN.
When he got to the opposite bank, Nessus took off running. Deianeira had to hold on tight to avoid falling off and getting hurt.
‘You’re mine now, baby!’ Nessus yelled. ‘That’s a good payday!’
Deianeira screamed. Across the river, Hercules grabbed his bow. The centaur was just a blur through the trees on the opposite bank. The shot would have been impossible for most heroes. If he missed, Hercules could accidentally hit his wife. Nevertheless, he aimed and let the arrow fly. It hit Nessus right in the chest, piercing his heart. The centaur stumbled and collapsed. Deianeira spilled to the ground, somehow managing to avoid breaking her neck.
Right in front of her, the centaur gasped, blood pouring down his chest.
‘Girl,’ he wheezed, ‘come closer.’
‘N-no thanks,’ Deianeira said.
‘I’m sorry I abducted you. You’re so beautiful. Listen … before your husband gets here, I – I have a gift for you, as an apology. Centaur blood is a powerful love potion. Take some of mine. Then … if you are ever worried about your husband leaving you, smear some blood on his clothes. As soon as my blood touches his skin, he will remember his love for you and forget all other women.’
‘You’re lying,’ she said.
Nessus opened his mouth but said nothing. He died with his glassy eyes fixed on hers.
Through the woods, Hercules called, ‘Deianeira?’
Deianeira flinched. Quickly, she rummaged through her pack and found an old perfume vial. Careful not to touch any of the centaur’s blood, she let some of it trickle into the bottle, then closed the stopper. She shoved the vial back into her bag just as Hercules appeared.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘Y-yes. Thanks.’
‘Stupid centaur. Did he hurt you?’
‘No. Let’s forget it. We – we should get going.’
They didn’t talk about the centaur incident again. Hercules and Deianeira arrived at the city of Trachis and Hercules got a job as the king’s new general. He won a bunch of wars. For a while, once again, life was good.
But rumours started to reach Deianeira … rumours that her husband wasn’t always faithful when he was out on his military campaigns. Sometimes he would take women as his spoils of war and he wasn’t using them as personal chefs or maids.
Deianeira began to worry that her husband would leave her. She didn’t trust what the centaur Nessus had said, but she was feeling more and more desperate.
The final straw: Hercules went to war with the city of Oechalia. That’s the place where King Eurytius had held the archery contest and dissed him.
Hercules still had a lot of hard feelings towards the king, so he was delighted to destroy the city and enslave its people. He took the princess Iole as his personal servant and shipped her back to Trachis in chains, along with a bunch of other loot.
The shipment arrived with a message for Deianeira:
Hi, Babe,
OMW home with the army. In the meantime, take care of this new girl I captured. When I get back, I’m going to have a big ceremony. Could you make sure my best shirt is clean?
XOX HERCULES
When Deianeira read this, she freaked out. Hercules’s best shirt happened to be his wedding shirt. She knew exactly who Iole was – the girl Hercules had tried to marry before he married Deianeira. Looking at Iole, who was still young and beautiful, Deianeira had no doubt what this ‘ceremony’ was about. Hercules was planning to divorce her and marry Iole.
In a panic, Deianeira rummaged through her stuff for the old vial of Nessus’s blood. She dabbed the stuff on the inside of Hercules’s wedding shirt. The blood dried and turned invisible immediately.
‘There,’ she told herself. ‘Hercules will wear this and remember that he loves me.’
A few days later, Hercules got home with his army. He put on his wedding shirt, grabbed Iole and said, ‘Come on, we’re going to the temple! Deianeira, I’ll be home later.’
But Hercules wasn’t planning a wedding. He just wanted to dedicate his spoils of war to Zeus, including his new slave, Iole. Right in the middle of the ceremony, as he was praying to Zeus, Hercules smelled smoke.
‘Uncle!’ shouted Iolaus, who was still serving as Hercules’s lieutenant. ‘You’re smouldering!’
The centaur’s blood wasn’t a love potion. It was the worst kind of poison in the world – like a combination of cyanide and sulphuric acid. Hercules’s skin blistered and cooked. Agony shot through his body. He screamed and tried to pull off the shirt, but it had grafted to his body and the flesh came off with the fabric. (Oops. Sorry. GROSS-OUT ALERT.)
‘I’m dying,’ Hercules said, crawling up the steps to the altar. ‘Iolaus, please, I need one more favour.’
‘You can’t die!’ Iolaus cried.
But Hercules was clearly on his way out. He was racked with pain. He was losing blood. He smelled like microwaved roadkill. ‘Please, build me a funeral pyre. Let me die with some dignity.’
The people wailed and wept, because Hercules had won them a lot of battles. At Iolaus’s direction, they built a huge pyre and Hercules climbed to the top under his own power.
‘Farewell,’ he said. ‘Tell my wife I love her.’
The fires were lit, and the greatest of all heroes went up in flames.
When Deianeira heard the news and realized she had killed her husband, she was so horrified she hanged herself.
Up on Mount Olympus, Zeus looked down at his dying son. He announced to the other gods, ‘That’s my boy down there. He has done more and suffered more than any other hero! I will make him a GOD. Any objections?’
He glared at Hera, but the queen of heaven said nothing. She had to admit that Hercules had suffered. Everything she’d done to make his life miserable had only made him stronger and more famous. She knew when it was time to quit.
Hercules’s spirit ascended to Olympus. He became immortal and was given a job as Olympus’s gatekeeper. With Hercules serving as the bouncer, uninvited guests were no longer a problem. He married Hebe, the goddess of youth, and finally got some peace and quiet. He was worshipped as a god by the Greeks, the Romans and the makers of B-movies.
As far as I’m concerned, anybody who’s managed to read this entire chapter should also be made immortal as a reward for pain and suffering, but the Olympians didn’t ask my opinion.
The only reward I can offer is moving on to the last hero – a guy I personally like a lot. He shares a name with a buddy of mine. Also, anybody who goes on a dangerous voyage to retrieve a sheepskin rug is okay in my book.
Let’s take a cruise with Jason.
Jason Finds a Rug That Really Ties the Kingdom Together
The story starts in a typical way: boy meets cloud. Boy and cloud have children
. Boy divorces cloud. Boy remarries. Wicked stepmother tries to sacrifice cloud’s kids. Kids get away on magical flying ram.
I know. You’ve heard that one a million times, but bear with me.
The boy in question was Athamas. He ruled a city called Boeotia in a part of central Greece known as Thessaly. As a young man, Athamas fell madly in love with a cloud nymph, Nephele, and they got married. Which was good, because folks were starting to wonder why Athamas was walking around under a cloud all day. Once their relationship was out in the open, people could say, ‘Oh, he’s not depressed. That’s just his wife.’
The king and the cloud had two children: a girl named Helle, and a boy named Phrixus. Again with the names. You christen your daughter Helle? So, if her last name is Smith, people can ask, ‘Is that Smith?’ And you can say, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s Helle Smith!’
The boy’s name wasn’t much better. Phrixus means curly. At least they didn’t call him Moe or Larry.
Eventually, Athamas and Nephele got divorced. Maybe the stationary front over Boeotia finally moved on and Nephele had to follow her work elsewhere. Athamas wasted no time in getting a second wife – a mortal princess named Ino.
Ino was a real charmer. As soon as Athamas and she had children of their own, Ino decided that Helle and Phrixus needed to die so her own kids could inherit the kingdom. Even in Ancient Greece, you needed a good excuse to kill your stepchildren, so Ino invented one.
Back in those days, Greek women did most of the farming. That’s because the men spent their time killing each other in battle. Since Queen Ino was in charge of the crops, she took all the seeds for that year and secretly roasted them in a big oven, rendering them useless. She distributed the seeds to the Boeotian women and told them to get planting. Surprise, surprise, nothing grew. Harvest time rolled around and there were absolutely no crops to bring in. That kind of sucked¸ since it meant no bread, biscuits, pies or Oreos for an entire year.
‘Gosh,’ Ino said to her husband, ‘I wonder what happened? We’d better send some messengers to the Oracle of Delphi to find out how we have displeased the gods.’