Perseus

Vyst moved, in his underground chamber, for the first time since a hundred years.

Jupiter was having yet another party in Olympus. Banquets were laid out for all the gods so that they could eat till their hearts content. Recliners were put out, covered in the softest velvet. A son had been born to him finally. His name was to be Perseus. He would be a healthy boy with the world at his feet. Slowly the boy grew up. Gods grow at a rate of 3 human years per minute until they are 16, when they stop growing. As Perseus grew he began to resemble his father. The gods watched in awe. This little one was so much like their king yet no one knew what his future would hold.

Vyst could feel his fingers now, and soon his toes. The gods had paralysed him when he and his minions had first broke out of their domain in Vesuvius. They had planned to overthrow the gods and over take the world. They captured the city of Pompeii before the gods could stop them and buried the whole city in ash before giving themselves up. Now that Vyst was beginning to regain his powers he could plan to take revenge on the gods. From one of his hypnotised minions he found out that a son, the heir to his kingdom  had been born to Jupiter. Vyst had puzzled out how to take revenge on the gods, yet he still needed to draw a proper battle plan.

Jupiter was very anxious to protect his son’s. He made sure that he was accompanied by the strongest of forces, constantly. After all this was his one and only heir. Though one day Perseus complained that his bodyguards were always scaring off his friends and he wanted to go out on his own. After a lot of persuasion his father finally gave him permission to go out on his own.  Perseus’s joy knew no bounds. With his new born freedom Perseus immediately ran out to meet his friends, when he spotted an odd looking shrub nearby. He went to investigate the cause of the abnormality. Though as soon as he walked towards the shrub he was sucked in.

Vyst had spent ages on this plan. He needed a safe and secure stepping stone to hatch his new idea. First he thought about killing Juno, yet this did not seem possible as the gods were always protected, especially Jupiter’s wife. Secondly he thought about manipulating Pluto, God of the Underworld. Though this idea seemed far fetched. After a few hours of toiling and eating tacos he finally got to a conclusion. He knew exactly what to do. He knew from his minions that Perseus was always whinge about not being allowed to go out on his own. As soon as Jupiter gave in and let him free, he would ambush Perseus and kidnap him. Jupiter would deeply regret his decision and all the gods would be angry on him for losing the son and heir of Olympus .

In Olympus, Jupiter was getting a little worried. Perseus was not back yet from his daily excursions and he started to regret his decision. As it started to get late. He sent out a pack of bodyguards to find Perseus and bring him back. Though the search party came back in vain. Jupiter was at his despair. Being the god of the world he had an advantage. He scanned the earth all over for him. He found traces of him near a shrub that was not far from Olympus. ”Aha!” thought Jupiter. Perseus had vanished off the face of the Earth at the entrance of the Underworld. This could only mean on thing, Perseus was in the Underworld!

Vyst had manipulated the minds of the guards of the Underworld. He had made them disloyal to Pluto and loyal to him. They allowed him to capture Perseus in front  of their very own eyes. He was gagged and blindfolded. Vyst laughed “Watch out Pompeii,” thought Vyst, ”I’m making a come back. This time I am bigger and better than I was before.”

Jupiter himself entered Pluto’s domain. When Pluto had found out about Vyst’s master plan he was gob smacked. Yet the big problem was to confess to Jupiter about the disappearance. He knew his brother well, and he knew that there was no limit to his temper. Pluto was waiting at the entrance to greet his brother. He had dismissed his guards when he found out that they were Vyst’s spies.

Vyst smiled wildly when he found that Pluto was not entirely oblivious to his plans. Vyst wanted Pluto to find out a little about his plans. Vyst’s idea was to let the gods watch their planet demolish. He would set them free yet they would have nowhere to go to.

Before Jupiter went to go and see Pluto he went to consult the Oracle. As the green smoke cascaded out of the Oracle’s mouth it said ”You will find your inner strength when you sacrifice the family you love for the life you love.”

Jupiter was now trying to digest this information. Pluto was now telling him that Vyst was fully awake, powerful, and he had captured his son. Jupiter’s eyes danced with anger as he threw a thunderbolt. The ground shook with fear. Jupiter cursed Vyst with the worst possible things he could imagine.

As the silly gods were still thinking Vyst had already gathered his minions and was ready to overthrow Olympus, Perseus was lying in the corner unconscious. Vyst was about to give his battle cry when the ground erupted. Jupiter in his almighty form pushed through the earth. Yet Vyst was no coward. He told his enemies to attack. They charged at Jupiter with every ounce of their strength. Jupiter was already losing his balance and he had to hold onto a rock to keep stable. “Give up now"cried Vyst, "Give me your son and all will be well” Jupiter was shocked by this remark that his knees gave away crushing a few dozen of Vyst’s warriors. Jupiter could see the damage that was being caused on earth, volcanoes were exploding and earthquakes were erupting. He knew what he must do. He recalled the Oracle’s words "...you sacrifice the family you love for the life you love." He was ready to accept his destiny, he just hoped Perseus would accept his. His last words to Perseus were, "I’ll miss you kid, but Uncle Pluto will take care of you" and he left for all eternity.

Vyst kept his promised and was never seen again.


Nirali Patel's fun story about a taco-eating Titan and a father's sacrifice took third place in the youngest age group of the Golden Sponge-stick Competition for 2011. 

Wanted for Murder by Diana Luc

Shadows seethe at my unwelcome presence as I retreat once again into their dark depths. Hidden, unseen and invisible, I watch as people pass me by, their faces glowing alive in the ever-still rising sun. They do not stop. They do not stare. Why should they? I am no-one. I am the dead.

I turn to the face on the wall.

I am one of the wanted.

And apparently a murderer too, I remind myself.

A shift in the market does not go unnoticed by me. There. A pair of keen grey eyes locks onto my own, paralyzing me, boring deep into my mind, searching hungrily for information. They are very old eyes, I tell myself.

For a moment, I wonder if I look like that.

Yet that thought vanishes as another rings out urgently in my mind: Has he made the connection? Have I been discovered? Panic fills me as my heart rises with fear. With one shaking hand, I tear the parchment so that my face rips in two; with the other, I pull my hooded robe up. Hundreds of shards of paper cascade onto the rich soil, squashed under my cheap, wooden shoes. Just like that, my identity crumbles away in my hand, and I free it into the sun and the wind, watch it as it is swallowed up by the blue, blue sky. They remind me of the mosaic patterns in Master’s bedroom; the vivid painting of the thousands of swan swimming in the huge lake still haunts me to this very day. Even though I know it must have perished in the fire, and even though it would have been stained in Master’s blood when I killed him, I briefly close my eyes to savour the sweet memory of happiness, of safety, of Young Master.

The illusion of peace is swept briskly aside as I return to danger. Wincing as I gingerly take my wrongful place in the sun, I disappear into the crowd.

*

It doesn’t take him long to find me.

‘Minerva Tiberius.’

It is not a question but a simple statement.

‘You will address me as Juno,’ I say with weak confidence. Juno is the goddess of family, of marriage, of women. She is the wife and sister of Jupiter. Minerva is a horrible name; I don’t want to be clever and learn poetry and medicine; that’s what boys do. It is much simpler to stick to the uncomplicated matters of life, the safer side of the world. But I know with a sinking heart that safety is beyond my reach now. Perhaps that is one of the many reasons why I threw away my old life.

‘Juno.’ His voice sounds bored, like he is just toying with me. It makes me want to hurt him, scratch him with my nails, push him hard so that he knows what it’s like to fall down to the bottom. Instead, I clench my fists into an angry ball. This time, I know Jupiter will not forgive me if I murder another innocent man, annoying though he may seem.

‘Follow me,’ the man says almost lazily, bringing me back to the present. ‘And wipe your tears. It is drawing too much attention from the crowd.’
I hadn’t noticed I was crying. I am surprised he can even see under my cloak; although I suppose that is the basic things an assassin must learn to do – to be observant. I must confess, even after a month on the run, I am still not good at spying. I can’t differentiate between a lie and the truth. I can’t distinguish who is my friend or enemy.

My instinctive reaction is to obey his orders, and for a few moments, I stumble after him, weaving my way through the noisy market crowd. Then I stop, because I remember I am not a slave-girl any more because my Master and Mistress are dead, and the only person I will ever follow is not here, perhaps even dead like his parents before him.

The man notices I don’t follow and turns back to me. Already I can see the signs; his muscles are tensed and his stance is strong. He is not afraid to use force if he has to.

‘Why should I trust you?’ My voice is barely audible but I know he can hear it.
There is a moment where we both stare at each other, daring each other to make a move.

Then: ‘Minerva?’

My name is called out in the silence, even though the market is not silent at all. The world is polluted with noise but my heart remains dead to the world. The clanking of sestertius’ being exchanged in the market stalls clink to the beat of my thundering heart that is furiously pounding away. I recognize that voice.

A familiar figure emerges next to me and clutches my arm. Young Master leans in towards my ear and whispers fervently, ‘Minerva, we must go. This place isn’t safe. We can talk more on the boat.’

I do not understand but I nod my head, lost for words because I am so happy that the person I love is right in front of me, talking to me, pulling me along –

Oh.

As we move steadily through the throng, my senses turn on again. Now that Young Master is here I can breathe once more, take in the smell of grapes and olives and apples and onions. It does smell good, I realize. Perhaps there is some joy in life after all.

*

Inside the ship, I meet a whole crew of people just like the grey-eyed man. I think to myself – friend or foe? Do I really trust these people? As soon as I think this, however, Young Master’s hand slips through mine, and gives it a sharp squeeze. I know I can trust him.

One of the lads scurries over and hands me a tin of Picenian bread; the fine biscuit crumbles once inside my dry mouth.

I set down the empty metal tin in the folds of my robe. Confession time.
‘I’m so sorry, Young Master. They killed Mistress right away. I tried to save her, I really did.’ A pause. ‘Then they started to burn the villa.’

His eyes are blank as he asks me the question I’ve been dreading all along.

‘What about my father?’

‘We could have escaped.’ I hang my head in shame as I confess all of this. ‘We could have escaped the villa. But Master wouldn’t go. He said he wasn’t going to leave Mistress. He said what was the point anymore when there was nothing worth fighting for. I said he still had you but he simply refused to leave the villa. He asked me to cut his throat. I- I – I…’ I what? What should I say?

I’m sorry? I did what I was told?

What young Master says next surprises me. There is no sadness in his voice but raw determination and confidence. ‘I need you to come with me to Caligula’s palace.’ His eyes search over me. ‘The people of Rome hate him. You know it, I know it. He is crazy, unfit to be our emperor. The crimes he has committed…they are unforgivable. Tonight, we are going to assassinate him. But you must help us first. Please, Minerva.’
And I have made up my mind.

*

Caligula lies asleep before me. Even now, his sleeping face loses none if its hostility. His sister, Lady Julia, lies before him, drunk and unconscious. I pity them that the last moments they have together is the time they use for vulgar intimacy.

Young Master was right; Caligula is evil. Yet why then do I still hesitate when I see Young Master raise his knife? In the seconds the silver blade moves towards where the emperor’s heart lies, I sprint to take the blow.

I don’t even feel it when the knife comes crashing into my chest. Red colour blossoms on my white dress where the knife connects with my body and I topple forward onto Young Master.

His chin rests upon the crown of my golden hair and my skull vibrates with every word he cries out: ‘Why, Minerva? Why did you defend that villain? Don’t die on me…’ And he weeps right there, my beautiful Young Master who is so confident actually starts crying.

I have only seconds left. ‘Don’t kill Caligula. You’ll only regret it. This is revenge for your father and mother; it needn’t be like this. I love-’

Caligula wakes up. His mind must be foggy from all the wine but he can still comprehend what is happening enough to call out to The Praetorian Guard outside. The rest of our crew flee for their lives but Young Master just holds on tight to me even when I plead for him to let go. The last thing I see is Young Master’s brave smile as he shelters me from harm and danger.

This great short-story by Diana Luc from James Allen's Girls School, Dulwich, won first prize in the 11 - 13 category of the 2011 Golden Sponge-stick Competition. Well done, Diana!

Hylas by Waterhouse

I often steal plots from Greek myths. After all, their authors are long-dead and can't sue me. For my ninth Roman Mystery, The Colossus of Rhodes, I used the Voyage of Jason and his Argonauts as the structure for my Roman detectives' search for a criminal mastermind.

In the myth, Jason is on a quest for the Golden Fleece and he has assembled many heroes on board his ship the Argo. For example Hercules and his special friend Hylas, a beautiful youth.

In The Colossus of Rhodes, I get Flavia and her friends match the crew of their boat, the Delphina, with the crew of the mythical Argo. Here is the list Flavia and her friends compose:

Lupus the ship-owner is like Jason, the Brave Hero on a Quest
Flavia Gemina is like Atalanta, the speedy Heroine
Jonathan would like to be Peleus, a Hero and father of Achilles
Nubia has agreed to be Hercules, because both wear lionskins
Captain Geminus (a twin) is Castor, Pollux's mortal Brother
Aristo (a talented musician) is Orpheus, whose Lyre tamed Beasts
Bato (former junior magistrate) is Mopsus, a Wise Soothsayer
Flaccus (aristocratic snob) is Acastus, arrogant son of King Pelias
Zetes (Flaccus's slave-boy) is Zetes, the Hero who could fly
Silvanus (handsome youth) is Hylas, young Squire of Hercules
Atticus (old and Greek) can be Argus, who built the Argo
Punicus (Phoenician helmsman) is Tiphys, Helmsman on the Argo
(pp 24-25)

In my book, Flavia makes Silvanus, a handsome Ostian youth, correspond to Hylas. This could be bad news for Silvanus. The original story of Hylas goes like this:

Jason and his crew have anchored somewhere on the coast of Bithynia to take on water. Hercules and his boyfriend Hylas go off to fetch water but Juno, Hercules's great enemy, sees a chance to torment him. She makes sure that Hercules and Hylas are separated. She then tells a beautiful huntress nymph called Dryope that there is a handsome boy in the woods who would make a perfect husband. His name is Hylas.


The poet Gaius Valerius Flaccus (played by Ben Lloyd-Hughes above) tells the story like this:

Dryope the huntress nymph flushes a swift deer out of the trackless woods and tricks Hylas into pursuing it, away from Hercules. The stag leads him far away to a place where a bright fountain gushes forth. With a single bound the deer leaps over the pool and is gone. Disappointed, the handsome youth finally stops his pursuit. As sweat bathes his limbs and his chest rises and falls, he greedily sinks beside the pleasant stream. The dappled light that shifts and plays upon the lake shows the gleam of his beautiful body. He does not notice the nymph's shadow or the perfumed scent of her hair or the splash of water as she rises up to embrace him. He cries out to Hercules for help as she throws her smooth arms around his neck, but in vain. Hercules is far away and cannot hear him, and the lovely nymph she draws him down into the water, her strength helped by his falling weight.

In the painting by Waterhouse (below) the painter makes the scene much more watery and adds six more nymphs, bringing their total number to a mystical seven. We see Hylas with his water jug, entranced by their beauty. If you go to the Waterhouse exhibit at the Royal Academy, be sure to invest an extra £3 in the audio guide. The guide tells us that the nymphs eyes are black with desire and that the exchange of looks between Hylas and the head nymph Dryope is almost mesmeric. She is hypnotising him, bewitching him, seducing him. She wants to draw him out of the world, into a life of watery pleasure. He is captivated by her beauty and he is unconsciously leaning forward. At any moment he will plunge into the water.


According to some accounts, Hylas falls in and drowns. According to others he stays with the nymphs to love them and be loved. But in every case, Hercules and the Argonauts never see him again.

In my book, the young Ostian crewmember named Silvanus goes for water on an island and never comes back. Was he also taken by nymphs? Or did something more sinister occur?

Maybe it's a coincidence, but Waterhouse loved water. It appears in at least half the paintings in the exhibition. He also liked to use symbols. For example, long hair. To Waterhouse, long hair was a symbol of feminine seductiveness. Check out his painting of 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci'. She is wrapping her luscious locks around the neck of a handsome, hapless knight. His armour will not protect him against her perfumed tresses.

Notice, too, that the handsome young model Waterhouse uses is the same one who posed for two other archetypes of Greek male beauty: Narcissus and Adonis. I think his is also the head of Orpheus, a painting not in this particular exhibition.


Back to Hylas and the Nymphs. See how that one nymph to the right of Dryope is seductively fluffing her hair? And the nymph between Hylas and Dryope holds something in her hands. Pearls. You don't notice them until you're standing right in front of the painting. She seems to be offering the pearls to Hylas. Or is it something more sinister? Waterhouse knew (and the commentary tells us) that pearls were thought to be the tears of drowned men.

Run, Hylas! Run!

N.B. J.W.Waterhouse: The Modern Pre-Raphaelite was an exhibition at London's Royal Academy in 2009. It has now finished.