Jason and the Gorgon's Blood

CHAPTER 5

A MATTER OF PRINCES

“CHIRON, YOU’RE AWAKE!”

The happy cry came from Melampus as he strode into the cave, a broad grin spread across his face. The other boys pressed close behind, looking just as pleased as he did.

“Stay back!” Melampus said, turning round and waving them off. “He needs room to breathe.”

“Nothing like a beating to gather friends,” Chiron muttered to Jason.

“It was those centaurs, wasn’t it? Nessus and the others,” Admetus asked.

“If our paths ever cross again …” said Idas, grinding his knuckles together.

“I am afraid your paths will cross again,” Chiron said weakly, waving a hand at the boys, “for you must follow the centaurs and retrieve what they stole from me.”

“They stole something from you?” Idas blurted out.

“What did they steal?” asked Lynceus.

“Two clay jars.”

“What’s in them?” Acastus asked. “Gold? Jewels?”

“Nothing that would profit any of you directly,” Chiron said, “but …” He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But in the wrong hands, those jars hold great danger for all humankind.”

The boys seemed to take a single deep breath and hold it.

“But danger especially,” the old centaur added, “for the people of Iolcus.”

Eyes narrowed, Acastus asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Chiron said, “that something within the jars could be used by Nessus and his herd against their old enemies.”

The boys waited to hear more, hardly moving, and Chiron said gruffly, “Will you, prince of Iolcus, stand by and do nothing?”

“If Iolcus is in danger, I will not be found wanting.” Acastus’ hand went to the medallion at his chest.

Chiron cleared his throat. “Then, Acastus, you must listen to Jason and follow Nessus and his herd. It will take a band of heroes to get those jars back here, where I will put them out of the way of the centaurs forever.”

Acastus began to look interested. “You mean that the poets will sing of us in years to come?”

“The songs, my young prince,” said Chiron, “will be many and fine.”

Face creased with worry, Admetus asked, “But how can we possibly catch up to them? They run as fast as horses, and we’ve no chariots to chase them with.”

“Come,” said Chiron. “Sit by me. I will explain all.”

The boys all took up squatting positions in front of Chiron.

“Nessus and his troublemakers won’t have traveled by night. They are day wanderers and will be easy to track, for they never think far enough ahead to try and disguise their passage.”

The boys nodded at that, and Idas nudged Lynceus.

“Now they are probably resting and drinking, for they are easily distracted from their purpose,” added Chiron.

“That’s true,” Idas said. “Yesterday, one minute they were ready to fight, the next they were on to something else. Jason warned us to wait them out, and he was right.” There was grudging admiration in his voice.

Chiron nodded. “No discipline—that has always been their weakness. Otherwise they might well have been victorious over the men of Thessaly many years ago.”

“Distracted or not, there are twelve of them at least,” Admetus reminded his friends. “And who knows how many more are out there? How can six of us overcome them?”

“Certainly not by force of arms,” said Chiron. “So you will have to use stealth—and your wits.”

“Stealth and wits!” Acastus exclaimed. “What kind of heroes would we be then? What we want is an army. I could go to my father and—”

“No!” Chiron interrupted. The force of his cry drained him, and he slumped to the floor while the boys stood agape.

Quickly Jason knelt on one side, Melampus on the other. They supported Chiron as he sucked in a deep breath. “There is no time. You must set out after Nessus now.” His eyes closed and his head bowed wearily as he whispered, “It is a matter of life and death.”

Seeing that the boys were all looking dubiously at one another, Jason said with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “What happened to the idea of being heroes and having songs made to praise us?”

“A true warrior doesn’t charge into battle without knowing what he’s fighting for,” said Admetus.

“You’ll be fighting for Chiron,” said Jason. “And for Iolcus. And for yourselves, too. Idas, don’t you want a chance to pay the centaurs back for that tail-whipping across the face?”

For a moment Idas’ eyes flashed angrily at the memory.

“And you, Acastus, remember that they called us women! Didn’t you vow that you would meet them again with weapons?”

Now the boys all stared at Acastus, for it was clear there was only one answer a prince of Iolcus could give.

“We won’t let our honor be unavenged,” he declared. “We’ll pay them back for their insults. And for what they’ve done to Chiron.” It was well said, if a little late in the saying. Then he smiled. “And along the way we’ll save all of Iolcus.”

“Right,” said Lynceus with a nervous grin, “the six of us will be more than a match for all of them.”

“The five of us,” said Jason. “Melampus needs to stay behind to take care of Chiron.”

“Right, the five of us,” said Lynceus, his grin falling apart. “More than enough.” But his face spoke differently.

While Melampus changed Chiron’s bandages and brewed a fresh herbal draught under the old centaur’s directions, Jason and the others ate a quick breakfast. Then they began to collect their weapons and supplies.

The boys took a javelin and a short sword each. Admetus slung his bow on his back, while Lynceus stuffed a slingshot into his belt and hung a pouch of smooth stones there as well.

Jason’s hand hovered between sling and bow, undecided. He was a better shot with the sling, having brought down many rabbits and partridge. And the bow would be an extra burden while scrambling up a mountain. But then he saw Acastus watching him, and he remembered how the Iolcus prince scorned the sling, calling it a peasant’s weapon. “Fit only,” he’d once said, “for those who have not the wealth to buy a bow nor the skill to make one.”

Impulsively Jason snatched up the bow and a quiver of arrows, thinking, Do you see, Acastus? I have chosen a prince’s weapon. But in his heart he felt a strange pang, as if he’d committed a betrayal.

While Idas and Admetus packed bundles of salted meat and fish, bread and cheese, Lynceus went to fill their water skins from the nearby spring.

“Better today than yesterday,” Acastus said. “If we’d been this well armed then, none of those centaurs would have made it this far.”

Idas nodded his agreement, but Admetus seemed not so certain. “Or we could all be dead on that hillside,” he said.

Secretly Jason agreed. After all, they were just boys, not men. And while he knew himself good with the javelin, having killed wolves and deer before he was even twelve, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to go up against centaurs. Chiron was right. They would have to use their wits and a good helping of stealth.

“What do you say, Jason?” Idas asked.

“I say we fight first, boast after.”

Acastus laughed. “I think that Goat Boy is afraid.”

Jason left them to finish the packing and went back to talk with Chiron. The centaur dismissed Melampus with thanks and beckoned Jason closer.

“I don’t like to leave you this way,” Jason said.

Chiron waved his concerns aside. “Though he is no Asclepius, young Melampus is already a skilled physician. He will take good care of me. Besides, I’m stronger than you think. It is difficult to kill off an old centaur.”

“If we only had the Gorgon’s blood—” Jason began.

Chiron cut him off. “Nature will heal me without any such aid. To use it without need is to insult the gods and anger the Fates. Promise me you will never even think of using the blood. And be sure you stop Nessus before he does.”

Jason bit his lower lip. “Master, perhaps Acastus is right. Perhaps we do need to find help.”

“I was not entirely honest with you, my boy,” Chiron said. “It is not only the time that matters. Secrecy also matters. No one else must know what those jars hold. Think what would happen if the Gorgon’s blood were to fall into the hands of King Pelias or any other tyrant. That would be as bad as letting Nessus have it.”

“Is the king such a bad man?”

Chiron was silent for a moment, then said, “He has his son Acastus’ worst qualities magnified a hundred times, and with no one to speak to him of justice and virtue.”

Jason tried to imagine such a creature. It made him shiver.

“No,” Chiron said, “Pelias must not even hear of the Gorgon’s blood. The fewer who know of its existence, the better. Do not tell the boys what is in those jars. Just that it is something with which humans must not tamper.”

“But are we five strong enough to take on those wild centaurs?”

“I know you are only boys, Jason. Still, you all have spirit and courage. However, you will have to lead them, for only you have the wit for it, and the knowledge of the mountains. Only you can find the centaurs in time.”

“How can I lead them? They are all nobly born, while I …” Jason hated the whine in his voice, but somehow he couldn’t seem to control it.

Chiron rubbed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I knew this day would come, but I did not think it would be so soon.”

“Knew what day would come?” Jason leaned toward him.

Regarding him squarely, Chiron said, “You have every right to be their leader, Jason, for you are no lost orphan, though I have always let you think so.”

Jason gaped at the centaur. “Then who am I?”

“You are the rightful prince of Iolcus.”

Jason laughed out loud. “And my father, I suppose, is the king of the gods, mighty Zeus. Nessus must have landed an awful blow to your head, master. You’re raving.”

Chiron did not look away but stared steadily at Jason.

“But Acastus’ father, Pelias, is king of Iolcus,” Jason said.

“In name only,” said Chiron. “In truth it is your father, Aeson, who should be sitting upon the throne.”

“My father …” The word suddenly sounded so strange. All these years he’d been told his parents were dead. No, he thought, this is too fantastic. He shook his head. “You’re only saying these things because you want me to find the Gorgon’s blood. It’s another one of your stories.”

“It is the truth,” said Chiron. “A truth I was sworn to keep from you till the time was right. Sit close and listen, and I will tell it to you quickly, for you must not delay much longer.”

Jason refused to sit, watching as the old centaur shifted, trying to find a position in which his injuries did not hurt him too much. “When Cretheus, your grandfather, was king of Iolcus, he took a foreign wife named Tyro. She gave him three sons: your father, Aeson; Pheres, who is the father of Admetus; and a third son, Amphythaon, who sired Melampus.”

“I am cousin to Admetus and Melampus?” Jason was too stunned to ask more.

Chiron nodded.

Then Jason blurted out, “So who is Pelias?”

“Tyro’s son from an earlier marriage, a brute and a bully even as a child, who was much indulged by his mother, for he was the only one like her in looks and temper. Your grandfather was a kind man who cared for young Pelias as though he were a true son. Alas that it should have been so. The gods have a strange sense of humor sometimes.”

“I think I would have liked my grandfather,” said Jason, his disbelief fast fading.

“By the time old Cretheus died, Pelias had gathered a band of strong-armed warriors around him and took control of the palace, claiming it his as the eldest son, even though he was no blood of the king.”

“But,” Jason objected, “then he had no right to the throne.”

“No, but once a cruel and ruthless man has seized power, it takes a stronger man than your father to unseat him,” said Chiron. “And Aeson had always been a kind and simple soul who had no thirst for power or glory. Nor did he want to plunge his beloved Iolcus into a bloody civil war. In fact, his clear lack of ambition was all that kept him alive with that bullying older half brother in power. He was simply no threat at all. He retreated to a country house with his scrolls and his music and lived a quiet life. There he married in secret, a woman as kind and retiring as he. But when she gave birth to a son, Aeson feared that Pelias would see the child as a threat to his own heir, Acastus. So Aeson did the bravest thing he’d ever done in his life—he kept your very existence a secret and brought you to me to be raised and protected, to be prepared for the day you would return to Iolcus to reclaim your birthright.”

It was a thrilling story, but all it did was make Jason angry. “Why didn’t you tell me before? All these years I thought … I thought I was no one.”

“If you believe that, then I have failed you indeed,” said Chiron sadly. “But hear my reasons: I could say nothing, for I had sworn an oath to keep your identity secret. And to me such an oath is a sacred pledge. For think about it—if Pelias were to find out who you are, he would have you killed without a moment’s hesitation. After all, his half brother Aeson is already long discredited by his own reticence. But a son, young, strong, heroic—with a genuine claim to the throne—ah, that would be seen as a real threat!”

The old centaur waited a moment, gazing long into his young student’s drawn face. “Do you believe me, Jason?”

Jason turned and, with his back to Chiron, said, “I no longer know what to believe.”

In the shadow of the cave entrance Acastus pressed a fist to his mouth to keep from uttering a curse. He’d crept in stealthily, hoping to overhear some clue as to what was contained in the mysterious jars. But what he’d learned was far different.

So, he mused, Jason is the son of that feeble graybeard Aeson whom Father despises so much. As he slipped back out into the morning sunshine before Jason left the old centaur’s side, Acastus’ mind roiled with bad thoughts.

“What right does that old fool have to the crown of Iolcus?” he whispered to himself. “What right does Jason have?” He stopped and looked around the clearing where the others were finishing up the packing. “It takes a strong man to rule. A man like Father,” he muttered. “A man like me.”

Looking back at the cave with hatred in his eyes, Acastus thought, With enough supporters Jason could indeed pose a real threat to our rule. He was not unaware of Jason’s skills, much as he disliked him. The wily old Chiron had taught Jason well. Whatever the outcome of this mission, Acastus was certain of one thing: Jason must not return from it alive.