‘There is a curse?’
‘For the gods it would be a heavy curse indeed, but not perhaps for you, a mortal. Prometheus foretold that any son born of Thetis would grow up to be greater than his father. You can imagine, I am sure, that no Olympian wishes to father a son who might eclipse, or perhaps depose, them. Ouranos, the first Lord of the Sky, was overthrown by his son Kronos, who was in turn overthrown by his son Zeus,fn20 who entertains, you may be certain, no desire for the cycle to be repeated. Despite Thetis’s beauty and his own lustful nature, all these years the King of Heaven has let her be. Nor has any other Olympian dared to consort with her.’
Peleus clapped his hands in delight. ‘That is all? A fear that their son could rise to be greater than them? Why should I worry about such a thing? I would be proud to father a boy who might outshine me in fame and glory, why should I not?’
Chiron smiled. ‘Not all gods, nor indeed all men, are like you, Peleus.’
Peleus waved the compliment, if compliment it was, aside. ‘It is all very well,’ he said with a touch of moodiness now, as the cold reality dawned on him, ‘but the seas are vast and wide. How could I ever find her?’
‘Oh, as to that … Did your friend Heracles never tell you the story of his encounter with her father?’
‘Oceanus?’
‘No, Thetis is a Nereid.fn21 It all happened when Heracles was sent to fetch the Golden Apples of the Hesperides, the Eleventh of his Labours. He had no idea where to find them. The nymphs of the River Eridanus told him that he should seek out Nereus, son of Pontus and Gaia. But like Proteus – like most deities of water, in fact – Nereus can change his shape at will. Heracles had to hold the old sea god tight while he turned himself into all manner of creatures. At last his energy was drained. He submitted and told Heracles everything he wanted to know. Nereus’s daughter Thetis is the same. She will only yield to one who can hold her fast no matter how many alterations to her form she makes.’
‘I don’t have Heracles’ strength,’ said Peleus.
‘But you have passion, you have purpose!’ said Chiron, stamping a hoof in impatience. ‘What you felt when you looked down at the Argo’s wake and saw Thetis rise up – is that feeling strong enough to hold her?’
‘Strong enough?’ said Peleus, and then again with rising conviction, ‘Certainly it is strong enough!’
‘Then go down to the shore and call to her.’
THE WEDDING AND THE APPLE
Peleus stood on the shore of the Aegean and called for Thetis until his throat was raw. From the cliffs and mountains shadows slowly flowed onto the beach like a dark tide as HELIOS and his sun-chariot dipped down into the west behind him. Soon SELENE rode across the sky overhead throwing silver-blue light from her moon-chariot onto the wet sand at Peleus’s feet. Still he stared into the black waters and hoarsely cried out Thetis’s name. At last …
Was he dreaming, or was that a pale form far out rising from the waves? It seemed to be growing in size.
‘Thetis?’
She was close enough to land to be able to stand. Only ribbons of seaweed covered her sleek nakedness as she trod the sand towards him.
‘What mortal presumes to summon me? Oh!’ She came towards him so quickly that he cringed back in fear. ‘I know that face. You dared one night to fix me with a stare. What was in that look? It disturbed me.’
‘It … it was love.’
‘Oh, love. Is that all? I thought I saw something else, something I cannot name. I see it still.’
‘Destiny?’
Thetis threw back her head to laugh. Her wet throat, necklaced by a thin trail of seaweed, was more beautiful than anything Peleus had seen in the whole world. Now was his chance. He lunged forward and grasped her around the waist. Instantly he felt his arms widen and his hands slip. Thetis had disappeared and he was holding a twisting dolphin in his arms. He hugged so hard the blood sang in his ears and he almost fell as the dolphin suddenly became an octopus. Then it was an eel, a sea-eagle, a jellyfish, a seal … more different forms than he could count. Not wanting to be put off by the terrifying oddness of what he was seeing and doing, Peleus closed his eyes, braced his legs, strengthened his grip and held fast, feeling the different textures of spikiness, slipperiness, silkiness and softness until there came a gasp and a cry. Drained by the enormous expenditure of energy that it took to change shape so many times and with such rapidity, Thetis had yielded. When Peleus opened his eyes, she was draped in his arms, flushed and finished.
‘I was right,’ said Peleus in a tender voice. ‘It was ordained. You are not defeated. You are not in my hands, you are in the hands of MOROS.fn22 We both are.’
There, on the wet sand, he laid her down and as lovingly as he knew, he made her his.
There was relief on Olympus. The dangerous prophecy of Prometheus could now apply only to Peleus who – fine fellow as he was, noble warrior, excellent prince and all that – could hardly be counted in the first rank of mortal heroes, to be mentioned in the same breath as Theseus, Jason, Perseus or Heracles. He was welcome to father a child who might prove to be greater than himself. Besides, he was likeable, as was Thetis.
When the couple tentatively put out word that they were to be married by Chiron in his cave on Mount Pelion, every one of the Olympians – indeed all the gods, demigods and minor deities – paid them the inestimable compliment of accepting their invitation to attend the last great gathering of the immortals that the world would know.
All the gods, demigods and minor deities?
All but one …
There was seating room in Chiron’s cave only for the centaur himself, the twelve Olympian gods and the happy couple themselves. Perhaps ‘happy’ is too strong a word, but by this time Thetis had accepted her fate. She was well aware of Prometheus’s prophecy, but a maternal flame she had never suspected to harbour had flickered into life within her, glowed brighter and was now blazing with a fierce heat. She felt exultant at the prospect of bearing in her immortal womb a child destined for greatness.
The divine guests of honour took their seats in two semicircular rows at the back of the cave, Zeus enthroned in the centre, flanked on the one side by his wife Hera, Queen of Heaven and goddess of matrimony, and on the other by his favourite daughter Athena. The other Olympians jostled for position around and behind like spoiled children. DEMETER, goddess of fertility, less vain, sat quietly in the back row beside her daughter Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, who was there to represent HADES, who never ventured into the upper world. The twins Apollo and Artemis beat Poseidon and Ares to places in the front, and Aphrodite slipped determinedly next to Hera, who bowed her head stiffly at Hermes who had entered laughing with DIONYSUS and the limping Hephaestus. When the Olympians had at last disposed themselves with what dignity they could muster, senior demigods and Titans were ushered by Chiron into standing positions around the rest of the cave, leaving a kind of central aisle down which the bride and groom might process. Outside, nymphs of the seas, mountains, forests, meadows, rivers and trees sat on the grass at the mouth of the cave and whispered to each other, almost beside themselves with excitement. So complete a gathering of the immortals in one place had not taken place since the ceremony of the installation of the Twelve on Mount Olympus.fn23 They were all here.