“By Ares’ chariot!” Idas exclaimed.
Alcestis was blinking now, and she moved a languid hand before her eyes to keep out the light of the torches.
“Sister …” Acastus bent over and helped her sit, then stand. For a moment she looked at each of them in turn slowly, as if she could not quite remember who they were. Or where she was.
When she spoke, her voice was small and distant. “I thought I was somewhere else ….” She shook her head. “No, I can’t remember. The last thing I saw was the centaur. Kentauros. Big, ugly face. Nose the size of a pitcher. Was it a dream?”
Her eyes grew wide with fright, and Acastus put a reassuring arm around her trembling shoulders.
“Not a dream, then. He threw me and … what happened then?”
“You were stunned,” Jason answered, before anyone could utter the truth. “You were stunned. Out cold. You’re fine now.”
That last, at least, was true, he reflected. She had not so much as a single visible bruise on her body, yet she’d been smashed against the stone by Kentauros’ terrible strength.
All the boys exchanged glances, silently agreeing that they would never reveal to Alcestis what had really happened.
“Yes, I feel fine,” Alcestis said, running her hands down her robe to straighten it. She looked around the cavern, baffled. “Where did they all go?”
“They left you for … dead,” said Acastus. “They’ve gone on to Iolcus.”
“Well, why are we just standing here?” Alcestis demanded, shaking off his arm. “Shouldn’t we go after them?”
“Yes, we should,” said Jason. “But how on earth are we going to catch them?”
Now that they were no longer concerned with Alcestis’ fate, the same awful question occurred to all of them.
“If we had chariots,” Acastus said, “we’d have a slim chance at least. But it’s miles and miles to the nearest town.”
Alcestis placed her hands on her hips and raised a sardonic eyebrow at her brother. “Acastus, have you lost your wits? Of course there’s a way. The river road.”
CHAPTER 21
THE CHALLENGE
THEY HAD TO TREK westward for two hours to reach the river. When they came over the grassy rise and saw it spread out in the sun below them, Alcestis pointed it out proudly, as if it were a tapestry she’d sewn with her own hands. “You see, that will be much faster than going on foot.”
“Probably faster than a chariot, too,” said Jason. “A river doesn’t tire the way a horse does.”
“Where does this river go?” asked Lynceus. “All the way to Lake Boebis,” replied Alcestis.
“And the southernmost shore of the lake is only a few miles from Iolcus,” said Acastus.
“That’s all very well,” said Idas, his hand shading his eyes as he scanned the river, “but are we going to swim all the way?”
“There should be a ferry around here somewhere,” Alcestis said.
“Yes, there it is,” said Lynceus, pointing upstream where the river bowed toward the east. A flat-bottomed raft had been dragged up on shore and anchored to a birch tree.
They raced down the incline. Near the raft was a small stone-built cottage with a ferryman sitting on a tree stump and carving something out of a stick of wood. From time to time he paused to pluck a blueberry from a pouch at his side and pop it into his mouth.
“Hoi!” Jason called out, and the ferryman looked up to register the approach of the newcomers, then went back to his work. He was a muscular, barrel-chested fellow with short-cropped sandy hair and a grizzled beard.
“We’d like to hire your ferry,” Acastus called as they drew closer.
The ferryman looked up and spat out a blueberry stem. “Of course you would. Why else would you be here? Just let me finish carving this peg and I’ll take you over.”
“We don’t want to go across the river,” said Acastus. “We want to go down it, to Lake Boebis.”
“No, I don’t do that,” said the ferryman, forcing his knife through a knot in the wood. “Back and forth, that’s what I do, one side to the other.”
“Look, we have to get to the city of Iolcus as fast as we can,” said Admetus. “It’s very important.”
“Then I’d start walking if I were you,” the ferryman said without looking up. “It’s a long way.”
Alcestis nudged Acastus. “Tell him!” she whispered. “Tell him why we must get there quickly.”
“No,” said Jason. “It has to stay a secret.”
Acastus nodded his agreement, then walked up to the ferryman. “I am Acastus,” he announced, “Prince of Iolcus, son of King Pelias.”
The ferryman paused to pick another stem out of his teeth. “I am Argos, son of Arestor,” he said, “and I doubt if you’ve heard of me either.”
The side of Acastus’ mouth twitched irritably. He fingered his amulet. “Look, man, this is solid gold, and those red stones are rubies. I’ll give it to you in exchange for the ferry. It’s worth far more than your boat.”
“To you it may be, but that boat’s my livelihood. I can’t make a living out of a bit of metal, no matter how pretty and shiny it is.”
“We’ll bring it back, I swear,” Jason assured him.
“Bring it back?” Argos raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I doubt that. From the looks of you, not one of you knows how to steer a craft through rough waters. No, I think it best if you just go on your way and leave me to my business.”
Idas had already lost patience. “We’ll fight for it, if need be,” he declared, smacking his fist into the palm of his hand.
The ferryman considered this a moment. “All right, then,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’ll wrestle each of you in turn, one throw to decide each contest. If any one of you can beat me, I’ll accept the prince’s trinket and let you have what you need. If I am unbeaten, then you must still give me the amulet and go away.”
Standing up, he was a good head taller than Idas, and a lot wider, too.
“So either way I lose my amulet,” Acastus muttered.
Argos shrugged. “If you don’t like the bargain—”
“No—we accept,” Jason said quickly He turned and added to Acastus, “We don’t have any other choice.”
Acastus growled. “But it’s my amulet.”
“Shut up!” Idas, Lynceus, and Admetus said together.
Jason pulled the boys aside. “Look—one of us alone is no match for him, but—”
“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.”