The Argonauts
After thoroughly enjoying themselves with the women of Lemnos, the heroes sailed into the Hellespont Strait. This narrow passage lay just above Troy and formed the sole gateway between Byzantium and Chalcedon into the Black Sea. Once they crossed the Black Sea, Colchis would lie almost within reach, and compared to the perilous voyages of their ancestors, their progress felt astonishingly swift.
The original Argonauts had detoured to the Arctonnesus Peninsula and Bebryces, losing Hylas and Heracles along the way amid countless hardships. This crew, however, made no such mistakes. The expedition of the Argo had been attempted more than once, and the eleventh Jason had no reason to repeat the errors of his predecessors. He had obtained accurate intelligence about every past failure and executed a flawless plan accordingly.
Instead, they passed through the Hellespont and landed in the Bosporus between Byzantium and Chalcedon, then wandered through Thrace. This was the very place where the original Jason and his companions had rescued the prophet Phineus. Of course, Phineus was long dead by their era, so their true purpose was to capture the Harpies that had tormented him.
Harpies were man-faced birds that craved flesh—nothing more, nothing less. In modern media they sometimes appeared as alluring maidens, stirring strange desires, but the Harpies of this age were simply monsters. They possessed a bird’s body, a woman’s breasts and face, yet they were hideously ugly. With no way to wash or groom themselves, they stank and emitted ear-splitting screeches. Anyone harboring even the slightest romantic notion of Harpies would have had that illusion shattered on the spot.
These Harpies ranked among the representative external monsters of the era. Nesting high in the mountains, the man-faced birds shrieked and thrust their breasts toward the heroes in what seemed like seductive gestures. Yet their foul stench, grotesque appearance, and hideous cries stripped away every trace of allure, leaving only revulsion. The heroes had only just left the arms of the Lemnos women, so their lust was sated; even the most desperate “anything-is-possible” hopefuls shook their heads at the Harpies and slaughtered them without hesitation.
According to Perseus’s record, the battle unfolded as follows.
This time it was not a naval battle, so every hero, myself included, took to the field to hunt the Harpies.
The heroes who had been less active in the previous fight distinguished themselves brilliantly. Among them, the arrow loosed by Antiope drew the envy of all. Shouting that she would claim the monster faster than anyone, she shoved the leading men aside and cleanly pierced the Harpy’s face. Thus the first kill belonged to Antiope, and everyone acknowledged it for the record.
The Harpies naturally took to the sky and fled. The men who could not shoot bows hurled their spears in unison, each wrapping a torn strip of his own chiton around the shaft to mark it with his personal color. Of all the spears thrown, Peleus’s claimed the most lives; with a single throw he skewered two Harpies at once. The heroes cheered loudly, and the feat was recorded.
Antiope’s arrow opened the fight. The next finest archer was Meleager. When arrows ran out amid the swarm, he hurled stones on the spot, striking the Harpies’ foreheads as they rode the wind, then snatched up branches to impale the fallen monsters through the throat. Everyone praised his dexterity and competitive spirit, and the deeds were recorded.
My wife Achilles performed an amusing feat. She mounted Bellerophon’s proud Pegasus without permission and flew about slaying Harpies. Though it was her first time riding, she matched the beast’s rhythm perfectly—until Pegasus belatedly realized its rider was not its master and flung her from the sky. She landed safely without injury, yet the sight was so comical that the heroes mocked Bellerophon throughout the battle, and this too was recorded. Later Bellerophon demanded the entry be erased, but Jason overruled him.
Heracles’s fight shone brightest of all. From Meleager’s example we had expected the Harpies to be numerous and the battle long, yet Heracles simply uprooted a nearby tree and hurled it, bringing down eight Harpies at once. The trees he had thrown earlier fell again, crushing more of the creatures into the ground, and the fight ended far sooner than anticipated.
Yet the one who slew the most Harpies was the expedition’s leader, Jason. He set fire to the mouth of the cave suspected to be their nest and blew smoke inside, driving every hidden Harpy out into the open. Calmly he beheaded the panicked creatures as they emerged, and in the end he was confirmed to have killed roughly two more than Heracles. In this battle he once again impressed upon everyone that he was the leader, earning the respect of many heroes.
Among them we captured the youngest Harpy and showed it this hell. Its spirit broken, we took the young creature back to the Argo, thereby achieving our goal. The captive Harpy never once refused our commands during the voyage and wore a constant expression of despair. Even when Orpheus played his famous lyre and sang, it only wailed to be killed.
So, as originally planned, we killed it.
With that final sentence, Perseus rolled up the parchment and locked it securely inside the chest. The Argo had paused upon the sea just before the Bosporus Strait, at the very entrance to the Black Sea, to avoid the Symplegades—the Clashing Rocks.
The Symplegades were the infamous “two colliding rock islands” from one of the most celebrated episodes of the original Jason’s voyage. The rocks smashed together with thunderous force, their monstrous jaws devouring any ship that dared pass between them. The first Jason had sent a bird through the gap; when the rocks crashed together to crush it, he and his crew rowed furiously through the momentary opening.
“This is where you die.”
Standing before the roaring, colliding islands, Jason released the young Harpy without a trace of fear.
“HEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!”
The young Harpy, having witnessed the massacre of its kin, flew upward with all its strength and streaked between the rocks. The Symplegades, which had been resting as though catching their breath, snapped shut the instant they sensed prey, producing a fresh spray of bright red blood.
“Now! Row! Row with everything you have!!!!!!”
『Row! Row! Row for your lives!!!!!!』
Matching the urgent rhythm of Orpheus’s lyre, every hand pulled faster than ever. The shared sense of peril and the bard’s mystical song lent them strength. Despite its great size, the Argo skimmed across the water like a skipping stone. When a dull thud finally echoed, the oars fell still of their own accord.
“Oh…”
Jason’s short exclamation signaled everyone’s safety. The hull had suffered not a single scratch as they passed the Symplegades, and the ship once more caught the wind and surged forward.
“If we had fed it, might it have flown less weakly and survived?”
“We had to kill it anyway. If we had spared it, it would only have preyed on others elsewhere. Think of it that way.”
“Ah, I’m not sorry. I just wondered.”
Agreeing with Jason, Perseus 2 returned to the chest and retrieved the parchment. He briefly considered whether he himself could have transformed into a bird and flown through, but dismissed the notion; the North Wind’s children possessed wings yet had not done so, so there was no point in his own idle speculation. In the end, a life was precious, and the Harpy had been a necessary evil that they had used efficiently.
“We can write the rest once we reach Colchis.”
Antiope approached him with interest, her boyish black hair whipping in the wind as she peered at the parchment’s contents.
“The wind is fair and we’re making good speed without oars. I thought I’d finish while things are quiet.”
“Didn’t you already write most of it? All that’s left is the Harpy we released and this tedious stretch of sea. What else is there to record?”
“Personal stories of the crew would be good too. Everyone has one or two things they’d like to boast about, and if we trim them down there’ll be plenty. Or anything the others might be curious about.”
“Oh, then how about my story? Our homeland is nearby. Men are always curious about a country ruled only by women, and I can explain it in detail.”
“The Amazons?”
“Over there. We had planned to resupply there if the voyage dragged on. Didn’t you hear?”
Perseus opened his Wisdom Pocket and interpreted the direction Antiope indicated. The Amazon homeland lay along the Black Sea coast just below modern Ukraine. Colchis also lay on the Black Sea coast, corresponding to present-day Georgia. The two places were close yet not too close, and as Antiope said, it would have made an excellent resupply point before Colchis.
‘No wonder she looks so striking—her bloodline is extraordinary. I’d like to visit someday.’
Perseus’s mental image of the Amazons was gradually shifting toward a legion of beautiful maidens, yet information about the Sarmatians arrived alongside it, reminding him that the Amazons were simply people living in a place. He quickly closed the Wisdom Pocket and decided not to delve any deeper; further investigation would surely shatter the pleasant fantasy he had built.
“More importantly, Antiope.”
“What?”
“I heard you joined this expedition for the sake of glory, but you don’t seem very satisfied. The journey has gone so smoothly that there’s been almost no chance to make a name for yourself.”
“Ah… that’s true. The ancestors supposedly encountered storms and were blown to unknown lands, but we’ve had nothing of the sort. It’s as though the gods have been watching over us the entire time—miracles keep happening. The waves push the ship, the wind blows at just the right strength, and we advance without even rowing. At first it didn’t seem strange, but after days of repetition everyone found it uncanny. Hmm, I wonder which of us is so beloved by the gods? Aren’t you curious?”
“You know perfectly well and you’re just teasing. Listening to you makes me embarrassed—stop it.”
“Hahahaha! It’s something to be proud of, so why keep quiet? I was a little disappointed that opportunities for glory have decreased, but the voyage has been comfortable, so I won’t complain. Besides, the real trials begin now, so there’s no need to grumble, right?”
At those words Perseus’s face hardened. He looked at her as if asking what she meant.
“……You didn’t know?”
“I know the myths. I’ve also heard rumors about Medea. But I was told she has no interest in anyone except the man who bears the name of Jason.”
“That’s true, but for Jason to be recognized as king of Iolcos, he must overcome the trials she has prepared. Only after that will she refrain from cursing you, and only then will she acknowledge you. The trials given to previous Jasons were usually meant for the entire crew of the Argo, so it will be the same this time.”
“I had no idea.”
“Everyone came here aiming for those trials. Rumor has it the Golden Fleece will be given as well, though I don’t know if that’s true or false. Only Jason himself probably knows.”
Perseus nodded along as though hearing this for the first time. He did not reveal the truth. At the same time, he felt both anticipation and unease at the coming meeting with Medea.
‘Will that witch really hand over the Golden Fleece so obediently?’
Whenever one obtained what one desired, a corresponding price had to be paid. Especially when the one granting the wish was a witch from legend, she would be all the more demanding.
Perseus recalled how Medea had not readily agreed when he had mentioned Hephaestus’s name, and his wariness sharpened further.
*1) The modern Dardanelles Strait, lying between the Aegean Sea and the Sea of Marmara.