Robert Harris - Jason and the Gorgon's Blood

“Besides,” Admetus added, “why should you be in charge? Acastus and I are princes.” He paused and gazed sidelong at Acastus, waiting for him to say something. But the prince of Iolcus was oddly silent, as if content to let Admetus make the argument.

“We’re not in a palace now,” said Jason, “and we’ve no army to lead. It doesn’t matter who your father is out here.”

“Or who he isn’t?” Acastus suddenly put in.

Idas was thinking. His furrowed brow announced as much. At last he said, “Strength matters more than birth here on these mountains. And later, when we fight the centaurs, it will matter even more. Now no one would disagree that I am the strongest. So—who better to take charge than I?”

“Idas is right in his own way,” said Lynceus, who had been silent till that moment. “But of course some might think the person leading should have remarkably keen eyesight, so that he could spot any danger lying ahead.”

Idas cuffed him across the ear.

“Ow!” Lynceus cried.

“You didn’t see that danger coming, did you, brother?” Idas guffawed.

“No, but I can see what’s crawling up your leg.”

As soon as Idas looked down, Lynceus started to laugh. “At least I don’t look where there’s nothing to see!”

Idas took another swipe at him, but Lynceus ducked under the blow and backed away.

“There’s no point in you two arguing,” Admetus said. “Leadership is a matter of royal blood. Everyone knows that. So the choice of leader is between Acastus and me.”

“Maybe we should let you lead the way,” drawled Acastus. “Then, when you fall headlong down the first crevasse we come to, I can take over.”

Admetus’ face flushed. “You think so much of yourself, Acastus, but everybody knows it’s a stolen throne you stand to inherit!”

Acastus lofted his spear into a throwing position. “If you speak to me like that again,” he warned through gritted teeth, “I’ll send you back to that dung heap you call a kingdom with a spear in your belly.”

“Stop it!” At the sound of Jason’s voice, they all went still and Acastus lowered his weapon. “You are acting like boys playing at tug the rope. All of you want to give orders and none of you wants to take them.”

“And are you any different?” Acastus drawled.

“Chiron obviously thought so,” Jason said quietly, but the others laughed.

Idas thumped his spear butt on the ground. “We need to settle this fairly, by a contest of skill and strength.”

“And who’s going to decide the rules for that?” Lynceus asked suspiciously.

“We don’t have time for this,” Jason pleaded. “Let’s just move forward and decide all this afterward.”

“I don’t think you have much support, Goat Boy,” said Acastus, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Thinking desperately, Jason tried to recall what he and Chiron had discussed about leadership, about the qualities of kings and warlords. At the time he hadn’t understood why he should have to learn about such things. Now he knew.

“Any man can shout orders and enforce his will by fear,” Chiron had said. “A true leader is one others follow because they choose to.”

“But what if they don’t choose to follow?” Jason remembered asking.

Chiron had grinned. “There’s always a way to persuade them. Everyone has a weak spot, some matter of vanity that can be used to tug him forward, like a rope around the neck of a stubborn mule.”

Slowly Jason looked around at each of the boys in turn. He could think of nothing to say that would persuade all of them as a group, but over the past weeks he had come to know each of them well, better perhaps than they suspected. If not all at once, he told himself, perhaps one at a time.

“Lynceus,” he said, taking a step closer to Idas’ sharp-eyed brother, “once we’re over the mountains, we’ll need you to spy out the centaurs’ trail. You can do that for us, can’t you?”

Lynceus nodded uncertainly, not sure where this was leading.

Jason turned to the two princes. “Once we’ve found the centaurs,” he said, “we’ll need someone trained in strategy to come up with a plan to overcome them. We’ll be depending on you, Acastus and Admetus, to do that, or all will be lost.”

Bristling, Admetus asked, “Do you think we can’t?”

“I’m sure you can,” Jason answered confidently.

Acastus narrowed his eyes and gave the slightest of nods.

Idas flexed his broad shoulders. “What about me?” he demanded, a menacing gleam in his eye.

“If it comes to a fight, Idas,” Jason said, “there’s no one any of us would rather have in the forefront of the battle than you. And I’m certain that’s where you want to be.”

Idas appeared satisfied with this and relaxed his threatening posture.

“But none of that will count for anything unless we reach Mount Ossa in time to learn the centaurs’ plans,” Jason went on. He placed a hand on his chest. “That’s my task, to get us all safely over the mountains. Does anybody think he can do that better than I can?”

“Jason does know the route better than any of us,” Idas conceded, rubbing his square jaw.

“So really you’ll be a sort of guide,” said Admetus.

“I don’t care what you choose to call me, but we have to go on—now!” Jason said.

There was a long pause as the boys all mulled this over. Then Acastus broke the silence.

“You go ahead, Jason,” he said. “I’ll be happy to watch your back.”

Something in the prince’s tone sent shivers along Jason’s spine, but to his relief he saw the others nodding their agreement. Seizing the opportunity, he turned and started off across the slope. He was glad they couldn’t see the sweat pouring down his brow as if he’d just stuck his head in a stream.

CHAPTER 7

THE NARROW PATH

MIDDAY THEY REACHED THE steep, barren ridge that stretched from the northern slopes of Pelion to the main mass of mountains. The ridge was like a long curtain of gray and yellow rock stretching down to the wooded, boulder-strewn valley below.

“There’s a path here,” Jason said, pointing. “A narrow ledge, but passable.”

Lynceus squinted along the line of Jason’s finger. “There’s a path all right,” he agreed. “But it’s hardly wide enough for a goat.”

“If it’s good enough for a goat, it’s good enough for you,” said Idas.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Admetus asked.

The start of the path was a narrow ribbon of stone clinging to the rock face. Below was a drop of at least a hundred feet to treetops that were like a row of spear points waiting to impale anyone who fell.

“Who’s going to go first?” asked Admetus.

“Jason, of course.” Acastus smiled slowly. “He’s our guide, after all.”

Jason ignored the sting in Acastus’ words and nodded. “Keep close together, but leave enough space that you aren’t jostling one another.” He set out boldly, wanting to show confidence, though there was a hollow in the pit of his stomach.

Acastus shouldered Admetus aside and followed immediately behind him. When Jason glanced back, Acastus grinned. “I told you I’d watch your back, Jason.”

Not to be outdone, Admetus went next, his face a scowl.

“I’ll go last,” said Idas, shoving his brother on ahead of him.

Lynceus staggered forward under the force of the push. “Why should I go next?” he asked resentfully.

“Because if you were last, brother, you might just think better of it and turn back.”

“Well, if any goats come along after us,” Lynceus joked, “you’re the one who’ll have to fight them off.”