THE TWO STRANGERS IN THE OAK GROVE
Perseus was confounded and confused by the cosmopolitan clamour of the mainland. No one seemed to care who he was, unless it was to try and con him out of his few pieces of silver. It did not take him very long to that Dictys was right: if he was going to return to Polydectes with the head of Medusa he would need guidance. The oracle of Apollo at Delphi was a long way to walk, but at least it was free to all.fn8
He joined the long queue of petitioners and after two long days found himself at last standing before the priestess.fn9
‘What does Perseus wish to know?’
Perseus gave a little gasp. She knew who he was!
‘I, well, I … I want to know how I can find and kill Medusa, the Gorgon.’
‘Perseus must travel to a land where people subsist not on Demeter’s golden corn but on the fruit of the oak tree.’
He stayed there hoping for further information, but not a word more was forthcoming. A priest pulled him away.
‘Come along, come along, the Pythia has spoken. You’re holding up the others.’
‘I don’t suppose you know what she meant?’
‘I’ve got better things to do than listen to every pronouncement that comes from her mouth. You can be sure that it was wise and truthful.’
‘But where do people subsist on the fruit of the oak?’
‘Fruit of the oak? There’s no such thing. Now please, move along.’
‘I know what she meant,’ said an old lady, who was one of the many regulars who came daily to sit on the grass and watch the line of supplicants shuffling along to hear their fortune. ‘It was her way of telling you to visit the oracle at Dodona.’
‘Another oracle?’ Perseus’s heart sank.
‘The people there make flour from acorns that drop from oaks sacred to Zeus. I’ve heard tell the trees can speak. Dodona is a long way north, my love,’ she wheezed. ‘A very long way!’
A long way it was. His small supply of coins had gone and Perseus slept under hedgerows and subsisted on little more than wild figs and nuts as he travelled north. He must have presented a forlorn figure by the time he arrived, for the women of Dodona were kind. They ruffled his hair and served him delicious acorn-flour bread spread thick with sharp goats’ curd and sweetened with honey.
‘Go early in the morning,’ they advised. ‘The oaks are more talkative in the cool hours before the noontide sun.’
A mist hung over the countryside like a veil when Perseus set out for the grove at dawn the next day.
‘Er, hello?’ he called out to the trees, feeling remarkably stupid. The oaks were tall, stately and impressive enough, but they did not have mouths or faces with recognisable expressions.
‘Who calls?’
Perseus started. Unquestionably a voice. Calm, soft, female, but strong and deeply authoritative.
‘Here to help.’
Another voice! This one seemed to contain a hint of scorn.
‘My name is Perseus. I have come …’
‘Oh, we know who you are,’ said a young man stepping forward from the shadows.
He was young, startlingly handsome and most unusually dressed. Aside from the loincloth around his waist, a narrow-brimmed hat that circled his brow and winged sandals at his ankles, he was quite naked.fn10 Perseus noticed that two live snakes writhed about the staff that he was carrying.
A woman holding a shield emerged behind him. She was tall, grave and beautiful. When she raised her shining grey eyes to his, Perseus felt an extraordinary surge of something he could not quite define. He decided the quality was majesty and bowed his head accordingly.
‘Don’t be afraid, Perseus,’ she said. ‘Your father has sent us to help you.’
‘My father?’
‘He’s our father too,’ said the young man. ‘The Cloud Gatherer and Bringer of Storms.’
‘The Sky Father and King of Heaven,’ said the shining woman.
‘Z-Z-Zeus?’
‘The same.’
‘You mean it’s really true, then? Zeus is my father?’
Perseus had never believed his mother’s wild story about Zeus coming to her as a shower of golden rain. He had taken it for granted that his real father was some itinerant musician or tinker whose name she had never discovered.
‘Quite true, brother Perseus,’ said the tall woman.
‘Brother?’
‘I am Athena, daughter of Zeus and Metis.’
‘Hermes, son of Zeus and Maia,’ said the young man, bowing.
It was a lot for a youth of sheltered upbringing to take in. The two Olympians now told him that Zeus had been keeping an eye on him since his birth. He had guided the wooden chest into the net of Dictys. He had watched Perseus grow up into young manhood. He had seen him rise to Polydectes’ challenge. He admired his boldness and had sent his two favourite children to assist their half-brother in his quest for the head of Medusa.
‘You’re going to help me?’ said Perseus. This was so much more than he could have hoped for.
‘We can’t slay the Gorgon for you,’ said Hermes, ‘but we can help tilt the odds a little in your favour. You might find these useful.’ He looked down and addressed the sandals at his feet. ‘To my brother Perseus,’ he commanded. The sandals unwrapped themselves from the god’s ankles and flew to Perseus. ‘Take your own off, first.’
Perseus did so and at once the sandals attached themselves to his feet.
‘You’ll have plenty of time to get used to them,’ said Athena, watching in some amusement as Perseus leapt in the air like a dancer.
‘You’re confusing them,’ said Hermes. ‘You don’t have to flap your feet to fly. Just think.’
Perseus closed his eyes and strained.
‘Not like you’re taking a crap. Just picture yourself in the air. That’s it! You’ve got it now.’
Perseus opened his eyes to discover that he had risen up into the air. He dropped down again with a jarring bump.
‘Practice. That’s the key. Now here is a hood from our uncle hades. Wear this and no one will be able to see you.’
Perseus took the hood in his hands.
‘I have something for you too,’ said Athena.
‘Oh,’ said Perseus, putting the hood down and taking the object she was offering to him. ‘A satchel?’
‘You might find it useful.’
After flying sandals and a cap of invisibility, a plain brown leather satchel seemed something of a disappointment, but Perseus tried not to show it. ‘That’s very kind of you, I’m sure it will come in useful.’
‘It will,’ said Athena, ‘but I have more for you. Take this …’
She passed him a short-bladed weapon, curved like a scythe.
‘Be very careful, the blade is very sharp.’
‘You’re not wrong!’ said Perseus, sucking blood from his thumb.
‘It is called a harpe and can cut through anything.’
‘It is forged from adamantine,’ Hermes added. ‘A perfect replica of the great sickle Gaia made for Kronos.’
‘And this shield is like no other,’ said Athena. ‘Its name is AEGIS. You must make sure its surface is always kept to a mirror shine like this.’