Page 13 of The Truth About Myths
Henrique sat on the bar and poured himself a liberal dose of port. "The king asked me a favor. I must become the princess' escort. Luis and his damn problems."
"He should count himself lucky… Modern-day monarchs only have to keep an eye on aggressive neighbors and ensure their subjects pay taxes. A king in Hercules' age had to deal with monsters roaming the countryside and the constant worry Zeus would rape his daughter—"
"Would you drop the mythological crap? This is serious. Luis blackmailed me into escorting the prudish princess to Spain, of all places, and avert some peninsular crises—"
"Spain? Crises?" Dio frowned, his heavy-lidded gaze lighting up. "This is your hero's call."
Dio could utter the most absurd nonsense with a straight face. Henrique didn’t need a call, heroic or not. What should a fellow do in this country to get on with his life? Henrique massaged his forehead, the pain drilling into his skull. He was so close to finding a microorganism capable of killing typhus. "I came here to ask you to take care of my colony. They need to be fed twice a day and—"
"When I met you, just out of Sorbonne, you had this passion for science. A curiosity to know all about the world, including how we fit into it, the wholeness of nature, the harmony of its patterns… It's all in the past, isn't it? You've been complaining about ennui since that terrible business with Pedro Daun. This is your mythical awakening."
"The only thing resembling a myth in this is the Trojan horse Luis gave me as a farewell gift. After I'm back, I'll return to my plans." By God, if the princess turned out to be a bore of herculean proportions, he was doomed.
Dio snorted. "So typical. Every time a hero receives a call to action, he refuses. This is a chance to make your life interesting."
"You've been reading Hesiod? It makes you delusional."
"I don't know why you hate myths so… Mythologists and scientists are both in the same business—explaining cause and effect so people's lives can be more predictable. You explain wine as the nasty byproduct of yeasts digesting sugar. To me, wine is Bacchus' gift, a delicious elixir that helps humankind escape their worries." Dio tapped his chin with his aristocratic finger. "Who has the more captivating story?"
"Myths are nothing more than society's way of forcing poor males to do things they don't want to do in exchange for a transcendence that does not exist."
One had to wonder if the whole concept was not invented by females.
"And accomplish the greatest deeds humanity ever accomplished. Think about it. You could be our Portuguese Hercules."
Henrique gasped. He? A hero? "I fail to see the similarities."
"Hercules is prickly and proud. So are you."
Henrique would not bite Dio’s bait. "Hercules' problem-solving skills are faulty. The chap is always ready to fall back on his core strength, which is, well, his strength. I shun violence."
Dio laughed. "Well... Your articulation has a mighty punch."
"Hercules is inconsiderate, willful, and impulsive. He will chomp something off first and see if he can chew it afterward."
"But his impulsivity is freeing. Whether Hercules is right or wrong, he is never uncertain." Dio wiggled his brows. "Existential fear is unknown to him."
Henrique had no existential fear. He had no fear. At all. "Dire traits in an ungovernable train." Henrique threw a cork, aiming at Dio’s head.
Dio ducked before it could hit him. "True, but one thing you two have in common. Hercules is intelligent. He starts each of his labors with careful research—"
"Tricks from a trickster.” Henrique sank into an armchair, suddenly tired. The weight of responsibility settled over his shoulders with the finesse of Hercules' clubbing. Tomorrow, he would escort a prudish princess up north. His heart sped up for no reason. Anticipating meeting Joan again? Nonsense. He had no interest in green-eyed viragos. Henrique stared at Dio, passing his hand through his stubble. His friend might pretend to be a dissolute poet during evening hours, but by daylight, his blood ran as blue as the sky. "What is she like?"
"The Princess?"
“No, the Hydra of Lerna. Of course, the princess. Who else? Is she a dried-up maid with long teeth and short-sighted views?"
Dio choked on his wine, coughing his lungs out. "I wouldn’t put it into so many words, but as always, my friend, you have an interesting way of stating things."
"I knew it." Henrique groaned. It was just his luck. Spending his summer babysitting a shrew. "Will you take care of the bacteria or not?"
"Of course I will. Pack the nasty bugs! A hero needs a faithful companion, and today, my affair with Gardenia made the news. A spell away from Portugal will take my father off my heels. I'm coming with you."
Chapter 4
"They both distrust the advice of heaven; but what harm will it do to try?"Ovid,Metamorphoses
TheAjudaPalace'scourtyardsoaked up dawn's first sun rays. Outside the gates, the crowd awaited to see their princess off. Musicians entertained with mouth organs and concertinas. Hawkers sang of their fresh fruit, their voices rising above the swallows' excited chirps.
