The Legend of Perseus: The Labors

Ch. 21

Ch. 21

For three full days, they walked with little conversation. Whenever Perseus tried to start a conversation, he received only short, curt responses from Heracles. Rather than try to push it, Perseus decided to let him decide when he wanted to talk again.

As Heracles worked on building the fire, Perseus gathered wood for the night. They had a small bit a of meat left from a hare that Heracles had shot the day before. Heracles was mixing it into a stew with a some lentils they had picked up from a farmer they'd passed earlier that day.

Perseus dropped his third armful of wood down beside the fire and sat down on a rock across the fire from Heracles, who did not look up from the stew.

A few moments later, the son of Zeus pulled two bowls from his pack and filled one up, handing it across the fire to his companion. When Perseus didn't take it, Heracles looked up with a look of annoyance.

"Aye," he grumbled, "dinner."

"No," Perseus said waving him off. "I'm good."

Heracles let out an annoyed sigh and continued to hold the bowl out to him, "Eat. You'll need your strength if we are to make it to Tiryns before nightfall on the morrow."

"I said I was fine." Perseus muttered, "I think I'll just get some sleep."

Heracles' eyes narrowed a little but he seemed unsure of what to say.

"Besides," Perseus continued, "I can't stand to have another meal in awkward silence waiting for you get over whatever has your loin clothe all twisted up."

Heracles' eyes widened for a second before they seemed to smolder in the firelight.

"You would mock me after what just happened with the gods?"

Perseus stared right back at him, not intimidated by the hulking man glaring daggers at him from across their campfire.

"I tried asking nicely," Perseus began, "then I tried to be patient. I'm running out of options for getting you to just vent whatever you're upset about."

Heracles looked ready to jump across the fire and smack Perseus when his shoulders suddenly slumped and the wind seemed to be sucked from his sails.

"How could I not be angry?" He shook his head. "All my life, despite every terrible thing that has happened to me, I've stayed faithful to the gods. Even when it was the gods themselves making my life miserable, I never once blamed my father."

Heracles took a deep breath like he was exorcising the anger and resentment he'd been carrying for days.

"And yet it is Dionysus," he stared into the flickering flames of the fire, "that chubby, drunk, clumsy demigod who is offered godhood. You were the true hero in the battle with the giants but still, my father rewards that demigod."

Perseus had been well aware of what Heracles was angry about but he had been waiting for Heracles to say it.

"It simply isn't just or fair." Heracles finally said. "I just don't get it. Why does he get such a reward while we are sent back to these unfair trials orchestrated by Hera?"

Perseus didn't say anything for almost a full minute. Then he turned and reached into his pack of belongings and pulled something out and tossed it across the fire to his friend. Heracles caught it then looked at it quizzically.

In his hand, Heracles held a small piece of cloth, no bigger than his hand.

"What..."

"For your tears," Perseus cut him off.