Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a Spring morn

no acts of divinity nor acceptance of divine aid.” Glowering in ire, Heracles deeply inhaled thrice, and on the third breath he clamped his lips tight and nodded.

Roel began the count: “One, two, three, four. .” And now Heracles smiled at Roel, for surely he could hold his breath that long. He had done so many times, though that was with divine aid. Nevertheless. .

“. . one hundred eighty-one. . one hundred eighty-two. . one hundred eighty-three. .” Heracles was now red in the face, but he yet held his breath.

“. . two hundred thirty-nine. . two hundred forty. .

two hundred forty-one. .”

Still Heracles grinned at Roel, though his face was redder still.

“. . three hundred eighty-one. . three hundred eighty-two. .”

Heracles’ face was now nigh purple, and he squinted his eyes shut, and tears streamed down his cheeks. As for Roel, he frowned and glanced toward Celeste, but he yet kept the count.

Of a sudden, with a great whoosh followed by a frantic panting of air, Heracles blew and gasped and blew.

And once again laughter broke out among the heroes, for mighty Heracles had been bested.

“That’s one for the team of the princess and the knight,” said Chiron, and he stroked the parchment once.

“It was not fair, Tutor,” protested Heracles. “I demand a different trial.”

But Celeste called out, “Who is the best at hurling the discus? I would challenge him.”

All eyes turned to Heracles, and he grinned in triumph and said, “That would be me, Princess.” Celeste looked crestfallen and said, “Oh, my, it seems I have bitten off more than I can chew. How far can you cast it?”

Heracles sneered and said, “Ha! Surely farther than you.”

“Well, then, my lord, let me set the terms: take up the discus and stand where you will and fling it. And wherever it stops, that shall be the measure of the throw.

Then I will do the same. We will have one cast each. Do you agree to the terms?”

“Oh, yes, my lady. I accept your challenge, and I do agree to the terms.”

Two of the heroes ran and gathered up two of the circular wooden objects rimmed about with bronze, and all marched outside and to the discus ring. Heracles took up both of the disks and judged their weight. Then he laid one down and said, “You can cast the lighter one; I will take the heavier of the two.”

“As you will, my lord,” said Celeste, glancing at Roel, who frowned in worry.

Heracles then stepped into the ring, and with a spinning toss he hurled the discus; up it sailed and up, as if borne on the very wind, and then down it arced and down, finally to land and skip along the ground, and when it came to a stop, it lay easily 150 paces away, and perhaps as much as 160.

“A mighty cast, my lord,” said Celeste, “mayhap four hundred feet in all.”

“Think you can best that?” asked Heracles.

“Oh, yes,” she replied nonchalantly.

Heracles snorted in disbelief, and he bent down and took up the remaining disk and handed it to her.

“Hmm. .” Celeste frowned. “ ’Tis much heavier than I imagined.”

A smile of victory spread over Heracles’ face, and he gestured at the ring.

But Celeste shook her head and walked toward the front of the gymnasium and beyond, all the men following, Odysseus laughing.

To the crevice she went and pitched the discus within.

As down it fell beyond seeing, Celeste turned to Heracles and said, “I understand you should be able to measure the full distance of my cast after nine days and nine nights, but as you can see, it has gone well beyond the trivial toss of yours.”

Hilarity erupted among the men, and the look upon Heracles’ face was one caught somewhere between humiliation and rage. But of a sudden he burst out in laughter, and he bowed to Celeste and said, “Well played, my lady, well played.” He glanced at Odysseus and added,

“As clever as the very slyest of us.” Celeste smiled and stepped to the large man and she reached up and pulled his head down and stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. The men hooted and whistled, and one said, “Let not Deianeira hear of this; she will claw Heracles’ eyes out for accepting a kiss from another beautiful maiden.”

Again there was more hooting and laughter, but finally Chiron said, “Now comes the team challenge; has anyone a suggestion?”

Achilles stepped forward and said, “My Lady Celeste, is that your bow I see upon one of the mares?”

“Oui.”

Achilles nodded and turned to Chiron and said,

“Since Philoctetes, the prime archer of the Argonauts, and I both took the pledge, then I suggest that we return to the gymnasium and he take up the bow and contest with the princess, while I take up the sword and contest against the knight.”

“But my lord,” protested Celeste, “this is really two challenges, and therefore the total is more than three tests in all.”

All eyes turned to Chiron, for he was the judge. He pondered a moment and then said, “Nay, Princess, it is really just one, for in team play, oft are many different matches waged.”

And so, Celeste retrieved her bow and arrows, and Roel took up Coeur d’Acier, and back into the Hall of Heroes all trooped, Celeste thinking furiously, for Philoctetes was a fabled archer, and Achilles a champion with a sword.

Finally, inside the hall, she said, “Let the archery contest be the first match, and then the sword duel commence.” Both Philoctetes and Achilles nodded, for no trickery within the suggestion did they see.

Several small targets-a chit of wood, a small flask, a coin on edge, a cup, a chalice-were set at one end of the hall, and the archers told to strike the target of their choice. At the other far end of the hall, one of the circles was chosen for the duel, and the men were to battle to first blood.

Chiron then said, “Heed me, for these are the additional rules: if Celeste and Roel are bested, then they lose, and the black portal is denied.”

“What if there is a tie between teams?” asked Odysseus.

“If the teams tie, there is no victory for the princess and the knight; hence going through the black doorway is denied them in this case as well.” Roel groaned and looked at Celeste, and she said,

“Agreed.”

“Well, then, archers, take your positions.” Celeste marched away to the end most distant from the wee targets. Philoctetes’ eyes widened in surprise, but he followed her.

Roel and Achilles also went to the far end of the hall, for that is where lay the circle they had chosen for their match.

Chiron gave the signal for the contests to begin, but Celeste turned to Roel and Achilles and said, “Let not your own match start until my arrow is loosed.” Achilles looked at Roel and shrugged, and they both agreed; the loosing of her arrow would be their signal to begin.

Celeste smiled and nocked an arrow but then said,

“Philoctetes, after you.”

Philoctetes looked at the faraway targets, and after a moment of deliberation he said, “I declare my target is the small coin standing on edge.”

The gathered men gasped, for never had any shot ever been made at so small a target from a distance such as this.

Philoctetes nocked his arrow and drew it to the full and took long aim at the target nigh three hundred paces away. Finally he loosed and up flew the arrow, sissing in its flight. And all held their breaths as the shaft hurtled in its long arc and sailed down to- ching! -

strike the coin. Pent breaths were released in wild cheers, for it was a shot worthy of the gods themselves.

Philoctetes turned to Celeste and smiled and said,

“Your turn now, my lady. Choose your target and loose.” Celeste drew her own shaft to the full and said, “I choose”-she quickly turned and shot Achilles in the foot with a blunt arrow-“Achilles’ left heel.” Crying out in pain, Achilles fell to the floor, and as Odysseus laughed, Chiron said, “The arrow is loosed; let the duel begin.”