Arms of Hercules by Fred Saberhagen

Author:Fred Saberhagen [Saberhagen, Fred]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Epic, Fiction
ISBN: 9780812566802
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2002-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

I might say that he screamed and bellowed with pain and rage—but those are not really the right words to describe the sounds he made. He seemed to fall on me as if he meant to smother me, and once more we were grappling. Of course he was so large that I had to fold him, almost like a parchment scroll, in order to hold him in a position where no part of his body dragged on the ground. When I exerted myself strongly, part of his body burst open under the stress, spilling out versions of muddy-looking blood and wormlike guts, for which my mind was unprepared.

I was so astonishing that for a long moment I could not move but only stood and stared.

When at last I had broken the great figure into complete helplessness, I stood over it, panting, while it lay impotent on the ground. What remained was not yet still, you understand, but writhed and heaved. The lower half of the face was gone by then, and the staring eyes above seemed to have turned into mere glassy pebbles.

By this time Enkidu, unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, had come scrambling down from his high rock. One knee was bleeding where he had scraped it in his jumping about, but he was otherwise unhurt.

Surveying the ghastly ruin that had once looked almost like a man, my nephew sounded even more shaken than I felt.

"Herc, what is all this? What does it mean?" Now that the practical danger was over, he sounded almost Page 116

tearful, really frightened for the first time.

I could only shake my head in wonder.

"For one thing," I told him, "It means that the world is stranger than I ever imagined it might be."

"This is stranger even than the Hydra. Because—because it's almost like a man."

"If only Daedalus were here," I muttered.

"He's not here," said Enkidu. "But we'd better take him some of—some of this."

"Nephew, I think that is one of the better ideas that you have ever had."

The Giant's rude garment had come loose in the course of the fight, and when I turned the body over again, we saw that he lacked pubic hair but that his male organs were, as might be expected, of a size for a centaur. Immediately an image sprang to mind of Antaeus ravaging human women.

For what seemed a long time we stood there marveling, unable to decide just what to do next. At last I said: "It is as if a sculptor wished to copy the proper outward form of humanity—but didn't bother to get it completely right. Close enough was good enough for this designer."

"Yes, that's it." Enkidu nodded. "What this creature looks like. But what it really is . . ." He shook his head.

"But why a clumsy imitation?" I went on. "And who was the designer?"

I doubted that even Daedalus could give me answers to such questions. Perhaps my father could.

When I examined the ruin of Antaeus's dead mouth, looking at the teeth with which he had chewed up the sheep, I could see that they, too, were rocklike.

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