THESEUS

The Hero of Athens

"What lies beyond is full of marvels and unreality,
a land of poets and fabulists, of doubt and obscurity..."
Plutarch, Lives

picture by Stephanie Pui-Mun Law

The Adventures of Athens' Greatest Hero,
or
Where were you when the ship hit the sand?
Aegeus, King of the great city of Athens, desperately wanted a child or
ten...You see, his brother Pallas had fifty sons (poor Mrs. Pallas kept
forgetting the Trojans!), and as long as Aegeus was childless, the sons of
Pallas hoped to succeed to the Athenian throne. This would not do! His
fifty nephews were vile, crude, cruel and vain, not to mention
despicable...and those were their good qualities! Aegeus needed an heir,
and quickly!
Neither his first wife, Melite, nor the second, Chalciope, bore him any
children. Certain that the goddess of Love, Aphrodite, held a grudge
against him, Aegeus introduced her worship into Athens, thinking this
may appease the goddess' wrath.

Talk about making yourself popular with your subjects! I mean, picture
the scenario, as Aegeus addressed the citizenry:
"Listen up, dear people of Athens, it appears that lovely Aphrodite is
peeved at us. To make amends we must build temples in her honor and
worshipfully engage in the sensual and sexual arts. Any objections?"
Objections? Methinks not!
"Let us pray!" shouted back the aroused Athenians...
Next, Aegeus decided to consult the renowned Oracle at Delphi.
Remember the funky Oracles? Their motto was "For Every Seer There Is
a Sucker." The Pythian priestess, stoned out of her mind as usual, told
the King that he must not sleep with any women until he reached Athens,
lest he one day die of grief. These were her exact words:
"Loose not the wine-skin's jutting neck, great chief of the people,
Until thou shalt have come once more to the city of Athens."
Say what? Does that mean what I think it does? "Yo'racle, can I get a
second opinion?", Aegeus wanted to shout!
Confused with this obscure pronouncement (easy on the hallucinogenic,
Pythia!) Aegeus sailed to the small city of Troezen (pronounced
'treason'), ruled by his friend Pittheus. This King of Troezen was no fool
and Aegeus hoped that he could translate the Oracle's ramblings.
King Pittheus was a good man, albeit a bit off-center; You won't believe
what he did! Upon hearing the Pythian Oracle's pronouncement, he
promptly set up Aegeus with his gorgeous daughter, Aethra. It's not clear
exactly how he managed this, but next thing you know, his guest from
Athens was drunk as a satyr and Aegeus and Aethra were playing
doctor, late into the dawn.
I'll tell you, there's nothing like ancient Greek hospitality! No sir.
(A nasty -- not to mention fishy -- rumor circulated in the Olympian
Enquirer that, following their erotic dalliance, Aethra went down to the
ocean to bathe; whereupon the great god of the sea, Poseidon, drawn by
her exquisite beauty (and smell), rose from the depths and had his way
with her.
(Oh my...They didn't call him the 'Earth Shaker' for nothing. Suffice me to
say that Uncle Poseidon, like his brother Zeus, "lacked restraint in the
gratification of his various lusts". The Enquirer approached Poseidon for
a quote, but he referred all questions to his attorneys, who had
absolutely no comment. Thus, we will never know whether Theseus was

the son of Aegeus, or the child of the god of the sea.)

When it came time for King Aegeus to return to Athens he took Aethra to
the harbor to wish her a fond farewell. He suspected that the young
woman was pregnant with his child, but worried lest his mean brother
Pallas (and the fifty filthy sons) found out about this offspring and brought
harm to mother and child in their evil envy. What to do, what to do. He
couldn't very well bring Aethra back to Athens, for he feared for her
safety.
Digging a deep hole near the beach, Aegeus took off his sword and
sandals -- ancient symbols of royalty -- and buried them. The priceless
sword was an heirloom from Cecrops, founder and legendary first King of
Athens, so you can imagine how reluctantly Aegeus parted with it.
Lifting a huge rock, he concealed the hole and told Aethra that, in the
event that she had a son by him, the boy was to move the stone and
retrieve his personal effects. "Once our son is strong enough to move the
stone, tell him to appear in Athens and I will recognize him as my child,"
he said.
(Did it ever occur to the good King that he may have a daughter? Just
wondering.)
Aegeus gave Aethra one last passionate kiss, and told the beautiful
woman that he would always consider her his wife. He warned her to
never reveal the identity of her child in case his evil brother Pallas
learned of it, and boarded his ship to return to the great city of Athens.
"Tell inquisitive people that the father is Poseidon!" he shouted out to
Aethra, as the ship pulled away. Hmmm...I wonder if he subscribed to
The Enquirer...
Aegeus still had no clue what the Delphic Oracle had meant, but I'm here
to tell you that it was too late. The "wine-skin's jutting neck had been
loosed", so to speak...
And thus was conceived the greatest hero Athens would ever see. Or
was Poseidon to blame? Alas, short of DNA testing, we will never know.
Or will we?

THESEUS AND HERCULES

I met Theseus when he was a mere child of six or seven. My nephew
Hercules and I were passing by Troezen so we briefly stopped by the
palace of King Pittheus to say "hello" and kick back some of his fine
wine. The good King was thrilled to see us and ordered his servants to
serve up a fabulous feast. Hercules promptly took off his famous lion pelt
so that he could eat in comfort, and all the assembled children ran away
in terror at the sight of this ferocious "lion" lying on the floor.
All the children scattered, that is, save for Theseus. The brave little
rascal, displaying the valor that would serve him so well throughout his
life, picked up his wooden toy sword and attacked the lion pelt with a
vengeance, triumphantly "killing" it. He then paraded the pelt around the
room, chasing and terrifying the other children with his trophy. Herc and I
(and the other adults) howled in laughter at the little guy's heroic antics.
The darn pelt was ten times his size but Theseus had no problem lifting
it!
"My little cousin Theseus is going to be a splendid warrior," commented
Hercules, grinning at proud grandpa Pittheus. "The tiny dude is fearless!
Did you say the great Poseidon is his daddy? No wonder..."
Hercules then sat Theseus on his knee and regaled him (and everyone
else) with tales of his wild and renowned labors. Wide-eyed sat Theseus,
enthralled as his larger-than-life cousin spoke of exotic beasts and horrid
creatures and fair maidens in distress. By the end of the evening,
Theseus knew exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up - A
certified hero, just like mighty Hercules!
To this day I remember the little guy's last words to Hercules, the next
morning as we were leaving Troezen: "Don't kill all the evil men and
beasts, cousin Hercules, please leave some for me!" he shouted, waving

his wooden sword and running beside us as we rode out of the city...
"Save some for me!" he repeated, his boyish voice faint in the distance.
Herc and I smirked at each other, for Apollo - who knew everything
before it happened - had already told us bits and pieces of Theseus'
future, and we knew that the intrepid little guy was fated for greatness.
After all, that's why Herc had insisted that we stop by Troezen, it was no
mere co-incidence. He knew that his visit was going to be the spark that
ignited the heroic fires deep inside Theseus, and he reveled at the deeds
to come...
THESEUS GROWS UP
Theseus grew up to be a very strong man, endowed with uncommon
courage and intelligence. When he turned 16 his mother knew it was
time. Aethra took her son to the Rock of Aegeus and asked if he was
strong enough to move it.
"One or two hands?" teased the cocky teen. Effortlessly he heaved the
huge stone, and, following his mother's instructions, soon unearthed his
father's fine sword and sandals. The majestic sword felt like an extension
of his hand, so perfect was the fit, and the fancy sandals were the
epitome of retro fashion.
"Cool birthday gifts. Thanks, mom!"
Aethra then dropped the bolt on him - She told Theseus that these
objects were his father's, named Aegeus, who was the King of Athens. It
was now his duty to report to Athens and to announce himself as the heir
to the great throne. Aethra warned her son about his uncle Pallas and
the fifty filthy scions, and beseeched him to be very careful.
Yeah, right mom. Careful. That's for wimps. Theseus had different ideas.
When his grandfather Pittheus heard that Theseus was off to Athens, he
implored him to travel by sea. It would be a far quicker, and much safer
journey.
You see, while my nephew Hercules was around, all the thieves and
thugs knew enough to lay low...The lucky ones whom Herc hadn't killed,
that is. But, having cleaned up the area long ago, and having run out of
ruffians and beasts to tame, the mighty Hercules had departed for Lydia.
The emboldened scoundrels had re-surfaced and were now terrorizing
the vicinity, and they even controlled the road from Troezen to Athens.
"Please go by ship," begged Pittheus, telling Theseus about the bandits
and robbers who waited on the road.

No way. Those evil men were kindly spared by Hercules so that Theseus
could have a go at them, as per his request many years ago. It was
Athens by land or bust, this he knew.
Besides, his father's sword was far too clean. What better way to make a
good impression on daddy, than by staining the weapon with the blood of
bad men?

GYPSIES, TRAMPS AND THIEVES

A word here about the bandits who infested the road to Athens. These
men possessed extraordinary speed, strength and stamina, but they
were benighted and clueless, and hence used these gifts of Nature for
destructive purposes.
You see, these idiots still believed in Survival of the Fittest, an
outdated theory even in ancient times. Insolent and cruel, they enjoyed
and took sadistic pleasure and pride in committing all sorts of outrages
on anyone and anything that came under their power. Needless to say
they treated the animals and the plants just as shabbily as they did their
fellow men.
They even had a name for it - Natural Selection! The poor morons failed
to see the great co-operative symphony of humans and Nature - nay, the
entire Universe - and instead focused on brute strength and force in their
shoddy daily reality.
These utter imbeciles believed that the mighty had no reason to respect
others, and that the concepts of justice and humanity were only wishful

thinking on the part of those who were too squeamish or too feeble to
cause pain. To them, might was right, and they boasted that the only
earth the humble would inherit would be the cold soil of their graves.
Talk about fools! No wonder they - and all like them - were doomed to
extinction! If the absurd evolutionary theory of Survival of the Fittest were
true, soon there would be nobody left! In fact, humanity would have
vanished eons ago, having horribly destroyed itself out of sheer brutality!
Hate when that happens.

(artist unknown)
THE ROAD TO ATHENS
Sweet sixteen. It was time. Theseus set out, like his idol Hercules,
intending to do no injury to anyone, but prepared and determined to
defend himself and to punish any aggressors he might meet. It was time.
Sweet sixteen.
I'm sure it's happened to you.
The first villain that Theseus encountered was a vicious robber named
Periphetes, also known as the Club-Carrier. This robber took great pride
in his lineage, variously claiming to be a son of Poseidon or even of
industrious Hephaestus. Hardly.
Periphetes didn't beat around the bush with formalities. Any wayfarers
unlucky enough to "trespass" on his road would be pummeled to death at

once. Nice guy. In another incarnation, he was a security guard at the

gates of Augusta National during Masters week...
Jumping out of nowhere, he attacked Theseus with his frightful spiked
club, spitting out threats and obscenities.

picture by Stephanie Pui-Mun Law

"Hey, nice club, dude!" grinned our unfazed hero, pirouetting out of
danger. "I could really use such a lethal weapon. You don't mind if I take
it, do you?"
This oaf was a real brute, and to make matters worse he reeked of garlic,
but Theseus killed him in a fair fight. Wrenching the weapon from his
hand, promptly he battered him to death with the spiked club, making the
punishment fit the crime.
From then on he used Periphetes' club as his own weapon. Hey,
Hercules wore a lion-skin on his shoulders as proof of what a huge beast
he had conquered, so our protagonist had to do something similar, I
guess. Theseus used the famous club of Periphetes the same way, and
just like Herc, what he had overcome was now, in his own hands,
invincible -- It never failed to kill.
So much for Survival of the Fittest...Survival of the Aware is more like it...
Next up to bat was Sinis, affectionately known as the "Pine Bender".
Don't let the name fool you, this villain of Corinth was no tree-hugger.
Rather, he would bend a tree down to the ground, ask innocent passers-

by to help him, then release it and laugh as the tree sprang upright and
the victims hurtled through the air and died.
Another neat trick of Sinis was to bend down the tops of two neighboring
pine trees, tie people to them, and then let the trees go, tearing the
hapless citizens to pieces.
(Now you know where tax collectors developed their methods.)
Ouch! Hate when that happens! How about you?
"You're a dead man!" snarled Sinis when he spotted Theseus strolling
down the path. "I kill anyone who dares to walk on my road, especially
pretty boys like you!"
Did I mention that Sinis was uglier than any man has the right to be?
Dude was so hideous that, even as a child, his mom had to tie a lamb
chop around his neck so that Cerberus, the three-headed hound of
Hades, would deign to play with him.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, dog!" replied our brave protagonist.
He wrestled with the powerful man and quickly pinned him immobile.
Before Sinis could blink, he found himself tied to two trees that Theseus
had bent down to the ground.
"I have a bone to pick with you, on behalf of all your victims. Make a
wish, Pine Bender!" said Theseus, as he let the trees go.
Oh my...They're still picking up bits of the human wishbone all over the
Corinthian countryside.
Now that's what I call Sinis pain...
Just then a beautiful girl ran out and tried to conceal herself in a thicket
of rushes and wild asparagus. Theseus gave chase and eventually found
the maiden hiding in the bushes. Actually, he heard her before he saw
her - she was invoking the plants to hide her safely, promising never to
burn or destroy them if they helped her.
Theseus swore not to harm the girl and eventually convinced her to
emerge from her hiding place. It was Sinis's daughter, Perigune, a darkhaired Grecian beauty. She took one look at our handsome hero, sweat

glistening off his chest, and nearly swooned. Theseus always had that
effect on women, just like his cousin Hercules.
Perigune instantly fell in love with Theseus and at once forgave him for
the death of her father. He was a chauvinistic swine, after all, who often
abused and beat her for no reason. The folk from Children's Aid years
ago had come to remove her from the family home, but Sinis had given
them the famous tree treatment. They had 'split', never to be seen
again...
Let's just say Perigune had no problem expressing her gratitude towards
Theseus. In fact, she expressed it more than once...In due course she
bore him a son, Melanippus, and she happily settled down with a good
man named Deioneus, to whom Theseus had given her in marriage.

The very next day Theseus disposed of a huge wild boar that had a
fondness for eating small children and farmers. People were so petrified
of this beast that they no longer dared plough their fields, and they were
eternally grateful to Theseus for killing it. Known as the Crommyonian
Sow, it was the offspring of the dreaded monster Typhon, and mother to
the Calydonian Boar.
Theseus got to try out his new club, as he shattered the creature's skull
with it. I won't boar you with the gruesome details.
And his new legend grew...
Near the city of Megara, Theseus encountered Sciron. The road to
Athens wound along the top of precipitous cliffs and that's where this bad
man set up shop. I guess you could call it a 'foot-shine stand'. Stopping
people who walked on the road, Sciron would force them to stoop and
wash his feet as he sat upon a rock. He told them it was the toll for using
his road.
However, as they vigorously scrubbed his filthy feet, Sciron would kick
them over the cliff, where a gigantic sea turtle disposed of the bodies by
eating them. Even the few who survived the fall were soon consumed by
the monstrous sea turtle.
"Yo, punk!" hollered Sciron when he spotted Theseus coming. "You can't
go any further until you wash my feet, just like everyone else who dares

to use my road!"
Theseus wondered why this unkempt lout was so interested in clean feet
- he didn't seem too concerned with personal hygiene, judging by the
mud and dirt caking his entire body. The man was a living pigsty! And
what a stench! Yuck!
Still, our hero played along, even though Theseus was hip to his tricks.
Kneeling at stinky's feet, he waited until Sciron kicked out at him, then he
grabbed the scoundrel by the legs, lifted him off the rock and tossed him
into the sea. Tit for tat, and all that.
The sea turtle made a quick lunch of Sciron, but Theseus could hear it
throwing up shortly thereafter. Hey, there's some things even a monster
shouldn't eat, and food doesn't come much more unpalatable than dirty
old Sciron...
A wicked man named Cercyon the Arcadian was next, a.k.a. Vince
McMahon. This fool fancied himself a wrestler, in the process giving true
wrestling a bad name. Cercyon liked to force people to fight with him and
killed those who lost. Naturally, this goof always won, because he
towered over his opponents and cheated shamelessly.
This time he lost. Not only was Theseus just as strong as Cercyon, he
was far more clever and agile. Our protagonist lifted him by the knees
and within seconds Vinnie Mac was pinned to the ground.
"Hey, this wasn't in the script!" he was heard to exclaim, just as Theseus
snapped his neck.
For real.
You see, Theseus had invented the art of wrestling, which until that time
was not understood by the people. He was particularly peeved because
Cercyon dared to gloss himself a "wrestler". Theseus relied less on
strength than he did on skill, a tactic many so-called wrestlers still don't
get.
Five down, one to go. Theseus was having a blast, journeying to meet
his father in Athens and ridding the countryside of all scum. Ah, to be
young and heroic, and built like a Greek god...
The final fiend was unlike the others. This was the father of Sinis (recall
his pain?) and his name was Procrustes. Also known as Damastes or
Polypemon (dude had a real identity crisis), he lived in a nice house by
the side of the road. Pretending to be hospitable to strangers, he would
invite them into his home, give them food and drink, then graciously ask
them to spend the night.

Procrustes had unusual sleeping arrangements, to say the least. There

were two beds in his house, one short and the other long. If the guest
was too short for the long bed Procrustes would pound and stretch and
super-size him until he fit. Similarly, if the poor visitor was too long for the
short bed, the evil man would saw off his legs to make him fit.
Don't you hate when that happens to you? Most uncomfortable, makes
for a bad night's sleep.
Damn economy motels! Next time it's first-class! But I digress...
Procrustes had killed many travelers in his beds of horror. To make a
long story short, when he invited Theseus to spend the night, our hero
wasted no time tying up the murderer in the shorter bed. Even though
the fit was nearly right, Theseus cut off the villain's head, just so he
wouldn't bother any more travelers. How fitting.
Like cousin Hercules, Theseus justly compelled criminals to suffer the
same torments that their victims had endured.
Serves them right. So much for Survival of the Fittest.
MEDEA STRIKES AGAIN
Nearly there. In Attica, Theseus was met at the River Cephissus by the
sons of Phytalus, who kindly purified him for the blood he had spilled.
The ceremony was performed at the altar of Gracious Zeus and there
wasn't a dry eye in the house.
Taking advantage of the first true hospitality since he left Troezen,
Theseus then was welcomed as a guest of the Phytalids, a generous
family. He ate and drank until full, rested overnight, then in the morning
he took a much-needed bath and dressed in a splendid garment that
reached to his feet. His freshly washed hair was neatly pleated and the
royal sword and sandals completed the heroic picture.
If Theseus felt any better, he'd be jealous of himself...
Outside the city a group of masons were putting the finishing touches on
the temple of Apollo the Dolphin, and they mistook the handsome longhaired teenager for a girl. They jeered and impertinently inquired why
"she" was allowed to walk around unescorted. Cooler than the other side
of the pillow, Theseus couldn't even be bothered to reply. Instead, he
unyoked the two oxen from the masons' cart, lifted one of the behemoths
off the ground, and, after holding it briefly aloft, tossed it over the temple
roof, intentionally just missing the masons.
Oh my...Not bad for a girl. Theseus pretended to pick up beast number
two and the panicked masons scattered for cover, convinced they were

dealing with a deity.

Time to rock! Glorious Athens was in sight. News of this mysterious
youth, who had slain so many feared criminals, had reached the city and
throngs of citizens greeted Theseus at the gates. They hailed his name,
as frenzied agents thrust exclusive contracts into his face and swooning
maidens tried to cop a feel.
He was led to the palace of Aegeus and patiently our hero waited to be
presented to the King, who still didn't know that the exalted youth was his
own flesh and blood.
But Medea knew! You remember that witch, don't you? Last time we
talked about her, she had just murdered her two young sons to punish
Jason and had made a hurried exit out of town riding her dragon chariot.
Talk about throwing out the baby with the bathwater!
Medea was not nice.

picture by Stephanie Pui-Mun Law

The witch had arrived at Athens and had beguiled King Aegeus with her
beauty and charms. Promising the old man that she would use her
sorcery to bear him an heir, she had set up herself as Queen, in essence
ruling the city. Indeed she had bore him a son, Medus, and it was

commonly accepted that he would succeed Aegeus once he came of

age. Athens was in an uproar, and the fifty filthy sons of Pallas were
ready to make their move. Theseus could not have arrived at a more
fortuitous - and dangerous - time!
Medea had access to black magic and knew all about the identity of this
new hero, having followed his progress on the road to Athens. She had
known about him ever since he was born and was hoping that he would
be killed by one of the robbers.
Man, did she ever feel threatened! The witch was beside herself! With
the sudden appearance of a legitimate heir to the throne -- and a hero at
that! -- she realized that control of Athens was slipping out of her hands.
Dude had to go!
Medea had no qualms about killing. After all, she had murdered her own
children out of spite. No Mother of the Year award for this creep.
She convinced King Aegeus that the young stranger was a spy, who had
come to assassinate him, and had the King's minions invite him to a
banquet at the Dolphin Temple. There Aegeus was to offer Theseus a
cup of wine specially prepared by Medea.
This killer vintage contained wolfsbane, a poison produced from the
deadly foam spewing out of the mouth of Cerberus when Hercules
dragged the mutt out of Tartarus. The elixir was also known as 'aconite'
and Medea thoughtfully had brought a stash along with her. One never
knows when one needs good poison, and wolfsbane was darn near
impossible to find in Athenian drugstores without a prescription.
Now, you may have heard that Theseus revealed his identity during the
serving of the main course. A huge slab of beef had been rolled in and
our hero jokingly drew out his sword, as if to carve it. Supposedly Aegeus
recognized the royal weapon and immediately realized the stranger's
identity.
That's false. I'm here to tell you that the drama unfolded just after the
appetizer had been served (spanakopita, made fresh at Thanasi's
Olympus Greek Restaurant and catered for the occasion). Queen Medea
wasted no time in proposing a toast to this brave warrior, offering
Theseus the lethal spiked cup.

The unsuspecting youth raised the poison to his lips and was about to
drink when Aegeus suddenly noticed the intricate carving on the
stranger's ivory sword-hilt. Frantically leaping to his feet, the King tore
the cup from his son's hand and dashed it to the floor, just in time!
Medea was not pleased. Too bad. It's easy to get wine stains off a
marble floor.
Can you say "party"? The joint went nuts! What followed was the
greatest celebration in the storied history of Athens. Aegeus called a
general assembly, summoned all the citizens and introduced Theseus as
his son and heir. Fires were lit at every altar and mounds of gifts were
offered to the Olympian gods who had smiled down upon the King. The
entire city rang out with the joyous sounds of feasting, as noblemen and
commoners drank and ate together, singing glorious praises to their
Prince's deeds.
"Yo, Yanni, did you hear what Theseus said to Sinis just before he let go
the two trees? 'Make a wish, Pine Bender!' What a character!"
The bacchanal went on for days. Never one to miss a great party, my
cousin Danny (Dionysus, god of wine) made a cameo appearance,
blasting in with his host of frenzied Maenads and frenetic satyrs. Oh
my...To this day they're still talking about the coming-out party for
Theseus with awe. Everyone had a smashing time, albeit nobody can
actually recall details.
I'm sure it's happened to you.

Painting by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema

But what about Medea, you ask. She had taken advantage of the revelry
to slither unnoticed out of the palace. When Theseus went looking for
her, knowing that she was bad news, Medea cast a magic spell and a
cloud enveloped her, rendering the witch invisible. King Aegeus felt pity
for his ex and generously provided an escort to see Medea and young
Medus safely out of town. The witch returned to Colchis, her homeland,
and never again dared set broom in Athens.
(Good riddance, methinks! Medea and I never got along, going way back
to my days with Jason and the Argonauts. She was a manipulative witch
who used her magic and exquisite beauty for destructive causes, a vain
woman suffering from 'I' strain. I tried hard to like that witch, and I failed
miserably. Greece was far better off without this femme fatale. One less
monster to fret about. But I digress with personal musings...)
There was still one little matter to take care of before Theseus could rest:
Uncle Pallas and the fifty filthy sons. Remember those swine? Even
before Theseus arrived the fifty filthy sons had declared that Aegeus was
not of true lineage and thus had no claim to the throne. Then Medea had
shown up and had briefly managed to mesmerize and muzzle the mutts
with her charms and black magic. Pallas and his brood weren't happy
when Medea bore Medus, and the spoiled brats threw a hissy fit once
they realized that this stranger named Theseus, a hero to the Athenians,

was the real heir to the coveted throne.

The scoundrels hatched a devious plan. Pallas and twenty-five of his
scions, along with an army of hired thugs, marched in force against
Athens from the direction of Sphettus. Meanwhile, the other twenty-five
swine concealed themselves and waited in ambush at Gargettus. Our
hero was grossly outnumbered, with his very survival at stake.
Not to worry. It's Survival of the Aware, not the Fittest, remember? (Even
though it doesn't hurt to be fit.) A herald named Leos informed Theseus
of the trap and our protagonist bushwhacked the ambushers, so to
speak. Armed with his father's sword and the terrible Club of Periphetes,
single-handedly Theseus sprang the ambush, devastating the twenty-five
filthy brothers and destroying the entire force.
Tit for tat, and all that.
News of the untimely demise of half his sons broke the spirit of Pallas
and his march on Athens ground to a sudden halt. He disbanded his
command, enrolled his remaining offspring in the Witness Protection
Program, complete with change of identity, and told them to run like the
wind for their lives. Falling at the feet of Theseus, Pallas implored him to
be merciful.
Cool. Theseus did not like to kill needlessly.
"Still", he told Pallas, "It's a shame I never got to meet the rest of my
cousins..."

A WHOLE LOT MORE BULL

So everyone lived happily ever after, right? Are you kidding me? What do
you think this is, a fairy tale?
You see, a great sorrow hung over Athens. The ferocious animal known
as the Marathonian Bull had killed hundreds of people as it rampaged
across the countryside. As if that wasn't bad enough, one of its victims
was Androgeus, who happened to be the son of King Minos of Crete, a
very rich and powerful man with a huge fleet and army at his disposal.
King Minos was not happy with the death of his precious boy and placed
the blame squarely upon the Athenians. When a terrible drought hit the
region an Oracle of Delphi pronounced that it was divine punishment for
the death of Androgeus. Spaced out on noxious fumes, the Pythian
priestess declared the macabre solution. Are you ready for this?
To compensate King Minos for the death of his son, seven maidens and
seven youths had to be sent to Crete, every nine years, to be offered up
as sacrifice.
The good news was, the Minotaur was having them over to his Labyrinth
for dinner. The bad news was, they were to be the main course.
Now you know why I think the Oracles were out of control. Damn stoners
never had any pleasant news! It was always, you know, "Kill your
firstborn!", or "Gouge out your eyes!", or some other equally ridiculous
command. Get a grip, folks!
Still, it was either Minotaur feast or Athenian famine. Dutifully every nine
years the Athenians had sent fourteen of their best to perish, afraid lest
the drought return. And now it was time to send fourteen more, as the
third installment. The horror. The horror.
Relax, will you? So what if Theseus was one of the fourteen sacrificial
lambs? Who cares that no-one who entered the Labyrinth was ever seen
again? Does it matter that the Minotaur was the most ferocious beast
alive at the time?
No. This is a bona fide Greek hero we're talking about here, Myth
Maniacs. He knew enough not to sweat the small stuff, so why should
we? After all, what sort of hero didn't face a little challenge or two?
Trust me. Our boy can take good care of himself, thank you very much.
First Theseus went hunting for the nasty Marathonian Bull, the cause of
all this anguish. This fire-breathing monster was brought by Hercules
from Crete and let loose in Argos, where it worked its murderous way to
Marathon, killing and wreaking havoc as it went. The natives had

nicknamed it Mike Bison.

Theseus promptly located the brute, seized it by the sinister horns and
proceeded to humiliate it by unceremoniously dragging it in triumph alive
through the streets of Athens, as people cheered wildly. The Bull had
seen better days.
Up the steep slope of the Acropolis strode Theseus, dragging the
disgraced Marathonian Bull, which by now had seen its pure white hide
turn soiled and filthy. When he reached the top our protagonist sacrificed
the bully to Athena and Apollo, and that was the end of that.
Everyone hoped that with the death of his son's murderer, King Minos
would forego the nine-year ritual sacrifice and spare the Athenian youth.
But no. Bullish King Minos himself showed up to hand-pick the latest
batch of victims. Some say that Theseus was picked by lot to go to
Crete, others insist that he convinced Aegeus to fix the draw so that he
was selected.
They are wrong. I was there when Minos chose the fourteen Athenian
youth, and I'm here to tell you that there was no luck of the draw
involved. King Minos took one look at our hero and asked if he was
Athenian. When told that this was the son of the King of Athens, born in
Troezen, Minos was in a quandary. The Oracle had said that only
Athenians could be sacrificed to the Minotaur, and thus he couldn't force
the young man to go to Crete as part of the tribute.
But what sweet revenge it would be if Aegeus lost his son and heir, just
as Minos had...
Theseus sensed the King's hesitation and made him an offer - He would
volunteer to go to Crete to meet his doom, but if somehow he was
successful in slaying the Minotaur, King Minos would have to cancel the
tribute.
"No more Bull, no more sacrifice, King!" said our hero. We all held our
breath awaiting the Minos sign. The Cretan despot didn't hesitate - He
knew that, even if Theseus was lucky enough to slay the Minotaur, there
was no thread of hope he could ever navigate his way out of the wicked
maze called the Labyrinth.
The cocky young man was signing his own death warrant, this
handsome brash son of Aegeus.
"Pack your bag, punk, you're going to Crete!" he said. "Bring thirteen of
your lovely teenaged friends. Pack light, and only buy one-way fares. No
use wasting money."
"Kiss your brave son goodbye," Minos finished, turning to King Aegeus.

"You'll never see him alive again."

Alas, it was true...
Hate when that happens...