Robert Harris - Jason and the Gorgon's Blood

“But there are five of us,” Admetus pointed out. “He’s bound to tire.”

Idas was already stripping off his belt and his pack. Acastus tugged his arm to keep him back. “You hold off till last, Idas. You’re our best chance, but only if you let the others wear him down first.”

Idas gritted his teeth ruefully. “I don’t like to stand and watch, but it’s a good tactic,” he conceded.

“Go ahead, Admetus,” Acastus urged his cousin. “You can have the first chance to prove yourself.”

Admetus did not look confident, but dropping his weapons, he stepped forward bravely. As he approached the ferryman, he fell into a crouch, moving warily from side to side. Argos still had his arms folded, and his eyes followed his youthful opponent as if he were watching an insect scuttling across the ground in front of him.

Finally Admetus mustered his courage and charged. He wrapped his arms around Argos’ waist and tried to lift him. He might have been trying to uproot an oak tree for all the success he had. The ferryman let him grunt and heave for a while. Then he hooked an arm around the boy, yanked him effortlessly off his feet, and tossed him aside.

Admetus thudded to the ground, rolled over three times, and lay there groaning. Alcestis hurried to his side and helped him up.

“You’re next, Lynceus,” Acastus said.

“It’s an honor, of course,” said Lynceus, “but I would like to offer someone else the opportunity to—”

“Go on!” Idas barked at him.

Lynceus made a feeble attempt at a grin. Carefully setting aside his pack and his sword, he advanced briskly. He feinted to the right and left in a series of quick movements, then instantly retreated. The ferryman did not react.

Lynceus began to circle the grizzled ferryman, making jabbing motions with his arms. Gradually he drew closer and closer until he strayed within Argos’ reach. The ferryman immediately seized him by the arm and flung him over his shoulder like an empty grain sack. Lynceus tumbled head over heels, then slowly got to his feet, clutching his shoulder and grimacing.

The sight of his brother’s pain was all the prompting Idas needed. “To Hades with your plan, Acastus!” he cried out, and charged the ferryman with unexpected speed, ramming his shoulder into the man’s midriff. Argos staggered back, winded. Idas grabbed his leg with both hands and tried to flip him over, but the ferryman planted himself like a rock and clamped his arms around Idas’ waist. Flipping the boy completely upside down, he flung Idas onto his back.

As soon as he landed, Idas leaped up and kicked the ground in frustration. He made to attack again, but Argos raised a cautionary hand.

“The rules were one throw wins,” he said. “Don’t turn your courage to dishonor, young warrior.”

Idas simmered for a moment, then turned and stalked away.

“This isn’t going to work, is it?” Jason said softly to Acastus.

“Do you have a better plan?” Acastus snapped back.

“Not yet,” Jason admitted.

“Then you can stand here and watch while I fight. At least I have the courage to try.”

He stripped down for the contest and advanced toward the ferryman. Falling into a fighting crouch, he stretched his arms out in front of him, searching for a hold.

“Go on, Acastus!” Idas roared. “Knock him senseless!”

The others joined in the cheering, all except Jason. If Acastus lost, it would all be up to him, and he knew he could not outwrestle Argos. The ferryman’s muscles had grown massive from poling his boat back and forth across the river; he was probably strong enough to toss a bull on its head.

No, Jason thought, Chiron’s always said my wits were my best weapon.

Suddenly he was shaken from his thoughts by a huge groan from his companions. Argos had thrown Acastus flat on his back. Winded, the prince clambered painfully to his feet, spurning the help that was offered to him.

Jason realized the ferryman was gazing directly at him.

“There’s only you left now, youngster,” he said. “Do you want to take a beating, too, or will you just concede?”

Jason looked around at the others, their faces expectant, but not hopeful. Then he looked at the wide expanse of the river. All at once he knew what he had to do.

“My friends are all better fighters than I,” he said humbly. “What would it prove for you to flatten me as well?”

“In that case,” said the ferryman, folding his arms, “the contest is over.”

CHAPTER 22

THE FERRYMAN’S PRICE

EVEN ACASTUS WAS STUNNED. “I never really thought you were a coward, Jason. Not until now.”

“Jason, fight him!” Idas roared. “Show some honor!”

Jason waved them to silence and addressed the ferryman. “The contest isn’t over, not if you give me the chance to best you in some other way.”

Argos eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“There are better tests of strength than wrestling.”

“Oh, are there? And what might those be?”

Jason shrugged and pointed to the river. “Could you hit the far bank with a stone?”

The ferryman looked across the water and stroked his grizzled beard. “No man could throw that far.”

“Let that be our contest, then,” said Jason. “Whoever can hit the far side with a stone wins.”

“It’s a waste of time,” said Argos. “Let’s just wrestle and get it over with.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not up to the challenge!” Jason exclaimed.

For a moment the ferryman bristled. Then he gave a chuckle. “You’ve nerve enough,” he said. “I suppose you’re a prince, too.”

“No,” said Jason, “I’m Jason of Mount Pelion. I’m a student of the centaur Chiron.”

“Now him I’ve heard of,” said Argos. “They say the pines on that mountain of his make the finest ships’ timbers in all of Thessaly.”

“So do you agree to my challenge?” Jason asked.

Argos stroked his beard a few times, then agreed. He looked around the bank and picked up a stone the size of his fist. He hefted it in his hand to test its weight and nodded. “This should suit. Now you pick one.”

Jason scanned the ground at his feet and picked out a much smaller stone, one he could completely enfold in his fingers.

“Right, then,” said the ferryman, “would you care to go first, Jason of Mount Pelion?”

“No, it’s your boat and your river. You take the first throw.”

Argos shook his arm to loosen up the muscles, then he drew it back. With a grunt he launched his rock into the air. All eyes followed it as it arced over the river. Only a few feet short of the far bank, it dropped into the water with a splash. Argos turned to Jason and grinned. “Give up?”

Idas shook his head gloomily. “You’ll never match that, Jason.”

For a moment, Jason acted as if awed by the ferryman’s strength. His jaw dropped. He took a deep breath.

Acastus gave Jason a contemptuous glare. “What did you think you were doing? You can’t beat him any more than we could.”

Jason turned to Lynceus. “Loan me your sling, would you?

Lynceus pulled the sling from his belt and handed it over. “You might as well have it,” he said, wincing. “That brute bashed in my shoulder when we wrestled, so I can’t use it anyway.”

The ferryman folded his arms and looked from Jason to the far bank of the river, then back again. He said nothing, but his eyes had narrowed warily.

Jason placed the stone in the sling and started to wind his arm. He swung the sling around, twirling it faster and faster until his arm started to ache. Then he let loose the missile. The stone shot over the water faster than a racing bird. Then it struck the edge of the sand on the other side.