Monsters of Greek Mythology, Volume One (9 page)
Read Monsters of Greek Mythology, Volume One Online
Authors: Bernard Evslin
Gobi (GO bee) | Giant archer who serves Anteus |
Mordo | Giant cudgeller who also serves Anteus |
Kell | Third of the giants serving Anteus; a skillful butcher |
Hecate (HECK uh tee) | Queen of the Harpies |
Gods
Zeus (ZOOS) | King of the gods |
Hera (HEE ruh) | Queen of the gods |
Gaia (GAY uh or JEE uh) | Mother Earth |
Prometheus (proh MEE thee uhs) | A Titan, friend to man |
Mortals
Hercules (HER ku leez) | Son of Zeus, strongest man in the world |
Libyans (LIB ih uhns) | Hordes of them |
Amaleki (uh MAL e ki) | Brave mountaineers |
Others
Sharks, octopi, camels |
Phoenix (FEE nihx) | A bird who abides in flame and arises from the ashes, unconsumed |
Contents
1
Cannibal Stew
The parched hump of land called Libya was very different in the first days. It wasn't dry; it was green and wet. In fact,
Libya
meant “rainfall,” and that spur of Africa was one of the most fertile spots on earth. But its people were not happy, for they were ruled by a monster.
His name was Anteus. He was the youngest of those dread creatures planted in Mother Earth by the Serpent of Chaos. Half-brother to the gigantic one-eyed Cyclopes and to the Hundred-handed Giants, Anteus was a giant also, and the most brutal of all that brood.
Many years before, his fancy had been caught by rich green Libya. He had invaded it, and made himself king by destroying everyone who stood in his path. He rapidly enlarged his kingdom, for he exulted in battle. There was nothing he relished more than the crunch of bones and the smell of blood. The shrieks of the wounded and the rattling gasps of the dying were music to his large hairy ears. And in the short intervals of peace, he amused himself by tormenting his subjects.
His entire court was composed of giants. Courtiers, counsellors, and the officers and men of the Royal Guard were gigantic. When they all reveled, which they did nightly, the mountains rumbled, the earth shook. And when their song was borne on the wind, utter choking fear took those who heard it. For this was the song:
“The stew, the stew,
the cannibal stew!
All you've heard is true
about what
goes in that pot â¦
Not pork, or mutton,
or costly beef
but eyes and nose,
fingers and toes
of rebel or thief
or those doing time
for any crime â¦
Into the pot,
ready or not â¦
with pepper and garlic
onion and thyme â¦
To boil and simmer
until it's through â¦
the stew, the stew,
the cannibal stew!
Served from the pot,
piping hot â¦
The stew, the stew,
the cannibal stew!
Why feed prisoners,
who can feed you?”
Indeed, over a fire-pit dug into the courtyard, a huge iron pot seethed and bubbled. Into this pot, as the song said, were thrown those who had happened to offend the king in some wayâor, simply, certain meaty-looking unfortunates who chanced to attract his notice.
And although there were many, many reasons to fear Anteus, who, in a temper, had been known to trample an entire village underfoot, this steaming iron pot became a special symbol of terror.
But the people of this unhappy land, like all folk everywhere, were unable to live without hope. And there was a prophecy abroad, which no one dared speak aloud, but was whispered from household to household. It was: “Help will come from the sea.” Just six words, very short ones, but they fed the flickering flame of hope that warmed the Libyans through years of icy despair.
But like many other a tangled tale of monster and hero, the adventure that was to give meaning to this prophecy was being brewed in high, hidden councils. The fate of this monstrous king, youngest son of Mother Earth, was sprouting far from earth, out of plots woven by the feuding gods.
You might say it began with Prometheus.
2
Sport for the Gods
When Zeus first became king of the gods, there was a Titan named Prometheus who occupied a special place in the heavens. He dwelt alone in a cloud-castle, refusing to join the court or take sides in any quarrel.
He was so wise that everyone sought his counsel. Zeus alone disliked him, but was not ready to show his feelings.
Prometheus came to him one day and said: “You have just begun your reign and I have no wish to discourage you, but I must tell you that we gods are doomed.”
“We are immortal,” said Zeus.
“We cannot die in a gross physical sense,” said the Titan. “But we can cease to be gods. And that for gods is worse than death.”
“What threatens us?”
“We are being starved.”
“What do you mean?”
“A god's nourishment is to be worshiped. But there is nobody to do that.”
“We have each other,” said Zeus.
“And we love or hate each other, or, mostly, are indifferent. But we cannot worship each other because we are all of the same family.”
“Do you have a remedy, oh wise one, or have you come only to spread gloom?”
“I have a suggestion,” said Prometheus. “I propose that we plant a new species in this garden of earth. And these new beings, created by us, resembling us in some ways, will lack our power, of course, but will have what we lackâthe capacity to worship.”
“To worship
us
, you mean?”
“Exactly.”
“Your idea has some merit ⦔
“It is you, oh Zeus, they will especially worship.”
“Me?”
“You are king of the gods. Of course they will worship you most.”
“The idea gains merit even as you speak, good Titan. I shall consider it carefully.”
Zeus decided to take the Titan's advice. After several trials, he succeeded in creating a clever two-legged race and set the first batch down on earth, dividing them into male and female so that they could begin to breed. At first, he spent hours watching them, but ceased to be amused by their antics. They seemed to be showing little impulse to worship their creator.⦠They did occasionally tie a bundle of straw into a kind of doll, mumbling to it and offering bits of food. But Zeus could not connect that crude figure with himself. So he lost interest.
The other gods, however, were fascinatedâfor a different reason. They began to believe that Zeus had planted mankind on earth as a landowner stocks a trout stream. Hunting humans became the gods' favorite pastime. It didn't provide the thrills of hunting a wild boar who could turn upon you with razor tusks, or a lion with claws that could rend you to shreds; man had neither horns nor tusks, nor claws, and was too slow-footed to offer the excitement of the chase. But the creature did possess that which other animals did not: self-consciousness, a sense of the future, a shuddering aversion to death and remarkable skill at evading it. Also, and most entertaining of all, these creatures were questioners; they groped for answers. Unlike other prey, they tried to understand what was happening to them. They could not comprehend the invisible arrows that struck out of nowhere, killing young and old, the strong and the feeble. And their agonized confusion amused the gods mightily. The anguished explanations humankind found for god-sport convulsed the Olympians with laughter. Manhunting became a craze. And the herds were dwindling rapidly.
Prometheus, who had appointed himself protector of humankind, came to Zeus and said: “You who made man, why do you destroy him?”
“I'm not destroying him,” said Zeus. “Oh, I bag one or two occasionally. But that's not destroying, that's
culling
. Improves the stock, you know. They breed quite rapidly.”
“Not as rapidly as they're being killed. Look down, if you don't believe me. You'll see that your herds are shrinking daily.”
“Perhaps. I hadn't really noticed.”
“Please notice,” said Prometheus.
“In regard for your age and reputed wisdom,” said Zeus, “I have overlooked a certain lack of respect in your manner toward me. But I must warn you, my patience is not inexhaustible.”
“If I have taken liberties, my lord, it is in your service. I promised you that if you created the race of man, he would nourish you with his worship. You are disappointed because he has not yet displayed that talent.”
“Yes.”
“Butâand pardon me again, oh Kingâyou have not waited long enough. The talent for worship, which is an offshoot of the capacity for wonder and the impulse toward praise, is something unique to mankind, and will develop only as he emerges from the animal state. Give him time, more time, I pray, and you will be pleased beyond measure.”
“You are eloquent on this creature's behalf,” said Zeus.
“It is on your own behalf, my lord. Stop the slaughter. Let him develop at his own rate. He will learn to rejoice in your handiwork, and sing your praises so beautifully that you will be entranced.”
Thereupon, Zeus summoned the gods to a grand conclave. They thronged his throne room. He sat on the enormous throne made of cloud-crystal and congealed starfire, and wore his ceremonial sunset robes of purple and gold. The scepter he bore was a volt-blue zigzag shaft of lightning.
“Oh Pantheon,” he thundered, “hear my words! Our herds are being slaughtered at a rate that approaches extermination. I have decided to be displeased by this, and hereby impose game laws. The monthly kill shall not exceed six per god. And I mean six adults, no children under twelve, no pregnant females or nursing mothers.⦠Severe penalties attach to transgression. Whoever exceeds his quota shall be shackled to the roots of a mountain in Tartarus and abide in suffocating darkness through eternity. I have spoken. You may go.”
The new law was not popular. Hera came raging to Zeus one day, and although he was omnipotent, she was his wife and had one unique power; she could make him miserable. So he spoke to her gently and asked why she was so angry.
“It's that ridiculous law of yours,” she hissed.
“You don't think the quota large enough? I didn't realize you were so keen a huntress, my queen.”
“It's not that!” she shouted. “But I did fill my bag early this month, and now there's someone down there who needs killing.”
“Wait till next month,” said Zeus.
“I can't!”
“What's your hurry?”
“She's offended me.”
“Something personal?”
“Very personal. I hate her. I must kill her now. Please, my lord.”
“Very well, but don't make a habit of this sort of thing. We who make laws shouldn't break them.”
Hera did not hear his last words. She was sliding down a sunray. And in a few minutes had cooled her wrath by murdering the unlucky girl who had offended her.⦠But what Zeus had feared came to pass. Other gods heard of this and came storming into the throne room, citing points of personal privilege and demanding that their quotas be raised.
Finally, Zeus became exasperated. The assembled gods saw that he was simmering with fury. He stamped his foot and the marble floor cracked. The blue lightning shaft that was his scepter went white-hot in his hand. Beyond the windows, thunder rolled. The gods shuddered. They knew that Zeus, generally good-natured, was sheer catastrophe when aroused, and that no one on heaven or earth would be safe from his wrath. They understood this because they knew the depths of their own cruelty, and he was of the same breed, but more powerful.
So they bowed their heads and did not respond when he tongue-lashed them, lowering the monthly kill-quota from six to four and laying a total ban on any complaint against the game laws. They filed out silently, submissively, and for a while were very careful about staying within their quotas.
But as time passed they worked out a way to break the law without getting punished. They used monsters.
Poseidon invented this method when a little village happened to displease him. A fishing village it was, beautifully set among hills rolling down to the sea. Only a handful of huts then, but it had been foretold that this little place was to become the most important city in the world. And since the people here drew their living out of the sea, Poseidon, master of the deep, expected them to name their village after him. But Athene, goddess of wisdom, had ideas about this village too. She meant to plant special people there and make it a place famous for wisdom.