Jason and the Argonauts by Bernard Evslin Read Free Book Online Page B

stature and their beauty, I deduced that their mother had told them she had entertained some god who had become their father. I wanted to acknowledge this, but to leave myself some opening in case I was misreading things. Luckily, I was trained in tact.
    “Fair sirs,” I said, “had you not told me your parentage, I should have guessed you for the sons of a god. Zeus, most likely. Or Apollo, perhaps. Or Ares.”
    “You are courteous,” said the smaller one. “Zeus it was who honored our mother, putting on the shape of a swan for the purpose.”
    “I welcome you, sons of Zeus. And so shall my brothers, when Autolycus is on his feet again and Daphnis has ceased fretting. We are your cousins, of course. Jason also, he there who is mending my brother’s head. But tell me what happened.”
    “We were on our way here,” said Castor, “following the road where it runs between sea and forest, when we saw an oxcart coming. But we saw a bear spring out of the woods, and kill the ox with one blow of its paw. And were amazed to see the driver attack the bear with a knife. The beast caught him only a glancing blow, luckily, but it was enough to send him flying. The bear went after him, and I went after the bear.”
    “You killed the bear by yourself?”
    “It was in a rage, and I had to kill it. I was sorry to. I like bears. Often wrestle with them back home, for I have run out of men to contend with.”
    “And what do you do for sport?” I said to the smaller one, who had eyes like chips of blue ice.
    “It is more difficult for me,” Pollux said. “I am a boxer rather than a wrestler. And bears don’t box.”
    “He has also run out of men to fight,” said Castor. “And for him there is no such thing as a friendly bout. Whom he hits he kills.”
    “No, neither of us can find anyone to fight,” said Pollux. “That’s why we have come here. We have heard that you are about to go after the Golden Fleece, a journey that offers an array of monsters and other worthy antagonists.”
    And that is how the Twins enrolled themselves in the crew of the Argo. And we were glad to have them. Handling the tree trunks and the huge rocks, they seemed as strong as Titans—and there were two of them.

FIFTEEN
    E KION
    A NOTHER STRANGER CAME INTO the clearing, of medium height and thin as sword blade, black-haired, black-browed, and of mushroom complexion. “Looks like trouble,” I thought. “Must be one of the king’s cutthroats.”
    Suddenly he smiled at me, and I was amazed. I had never seen a smile like that, a glittering ghastly spasm, indescribably ferocious. Curiosity pulled me across the grass toward him, and I couldn’t help peering into his mouth. He opened it wide.
    They weren’t teeth. He had none. Instead, he wore two brass blades curved to the shape of his gums; they were what gave him his dazzling death’s-head grin.
    His jaws snapped shut. He grinned again. It took all my self-control not to shudder. He spoke in a hoarse voice, hardly more than a whisper.
    “Are you Jason, prince of Iolcus?”
    “No, sir. I am his cousin, Ekion, herald to the king.”
    “I have come to see Jason.”
    “May I know your business?”
    “I wish to join his crew and journey after the Fleece.”
    “Was it the king who sent you?”
    “No one sent me. I am not to be sent. I go where fancy takes me.”
    I didn’t believe him. He looked too much like an assassin not to be one. The more I studied him, the uneasier I grew. He was in his mid-twenties, perhaps, but I saw now the cause of his pallor. His face was a web of faint scars. And when I dropped my eyes, I saw that his left hand was missing. A polished metal spike was attached to his wrist; it seemed to grow right out of the stump.
    “You are staring at me,” he whispered.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right, lad; it’s understandable. I’m not a boastful man, you know, but I wear my badges of honor in plain sight. I have no choice.”
    “Battle