When the misty morning arrived, King Iobates was sitting in the middle of his private garden on the upper terrace of the palace. He lay upon a gilded couch beneath the broad olive tree which he had planted there long ago. In his hand, he still clutched the tablet from Tiryns, having read, and re-read the missive.
He had been turning in a maelstrom of opposites the whole of the night as he lay there - anger and deep sadness, aggression and conciliation, duty and faith - and he hoped that it was simply a bad dream or misunderstanding that had brought him to this.
Oh, Stheneboea… he thought of his eldest, her pride, her strength, and he hoped that she was not hurt by what had happened. However, it did occur to him that she was made of stern matter, as though forged by Hephaestos himself. “What has happened?” he wondered aloud, wishing he had the power of the Gods to look back in time to see.
King Iobates looked around the gardens, the colourful blooms all about him that were still closed from the dewy night, the gently shivering olive boughs above him, and the bougainvillaea climbing the wall to the rooftop, splashing colour along the way. He remembered the days when he and Pasandra used to lay in that very place, undisturbed in times of peace. That memory however, always ended up like a dagger to his heart, and a mountain of regret.
Were Pasandra still here, Stheneboea would never have gone across the sea, he told himself, and I would not be in this predicament.
But he was indeed in a terrible position, and he needed to act.
I am a king!
The serpent of doubt in his mind, however, would not go away. Bellerophon had seemed, to all of them, a man of honour, but Iobates did wonder if he was capable of what Stheneboea and Proetus accused him of. He is a man, and men are capable or terrible things. I know this myself.
The laws of Zeus Xenios were clear, however. Iobates could not harm a guest he had welcomed into his home. If he broke the laws of Xenia, then he risked the wrath of Olympus, and he could not afford to do that again. He also might require Tiryns’ aid in the future, should the Solymi decide on a full-scale attack on Xanthos. He knew this all too well.
King Iobates turned to the slave who slept in the shadows of the garden. “Bring me Polyidus!” he demanded, and the slave roused himself quickly and stumbled out of the garden to go and find the seer.
King Iobates stood and went to the altar in the middle of the garden and there lit a bundle of rosemary from a basket and placed it in the bowl of the altar. He raised his hands to the sky, his eyes searching the clouds.
“Oh great Zeus Xenios, guide me in what I must do. I wish to honour your wishes, but I wish also to keep faith with my family. What should a king do under such circumstances?”
Iobates’ eyes searched the sky for answers, for any sign from Zeus, but he was met only with silence, even as the smoke from his offering was taken by the wind.
“My king?” Polyidus cleared his throat as he entered the garden.
Iobates turned to his seer and went to the couch. “Sit and listen. Advise me on what course of action will not anger the Gods and defy the laws of Xenia.”
Polyidus’ milky eyes looked confused, but he sat, leaned upon his walking staff, and cocked his ear as the king began to read.
“‘King Iobates, my friend and ally. I write to you about a grave matter concerning the man who brings you this letter. Bellerophon, son of Glaucus of Corinthos, is not what he seems…’”
“Quickly now,” Polyidus said to the slave who led him down the stairs and corridor to the princess’ rooms. “I must speak with Philonoe! The king commands it!”
Polyidus’ heart beat wildly in his chest, for all that they had been pinning their hopes upon was now under grave threat. He could not betray the king’s confidence and warn Philonoe of what had happened - the slaves were always listening - but he knew the willful spite of Stheneboea, as did Philonoe.
All of a sudden, they were at the princess’ chambers and the slave was rapping upon the cedar door.
Philonoe opened the door herself and it was as if she knew something was wrong immediately. “What is it, Polyidus?”
The seer caught his breath and reached out for her hands. “My lady, the letter from Tiryns… You father has finally read it.” He squeezed her hands very subtly then. “The king commands you to fetch Bellerophon and bring him to the megaron.”
“Me? Why?” She was, of course, happy to do so, but the way in which Polyidus was speaking and behaving gave her a dark warning. “What has happened?”
“I cannot say, Princess. It is the king’s wish.” He bowed his head low, not in obeisance but rather in shame, a further warning.
“Very well,” she said. “I shall go immediately to get Bellerophon and bring him to the megaron. I will see you there.”
“The king only wishes for you to bring him there, not to remain.”
She shook her head, though he could not see it. “I will remain there.”
Polyidus smiled. “Yes, my lady.”
Philonoe’s thoughts raced as she made her way down the narrow staircases to the lower terrace where Bellerophon’s rooms were located. She wondered what could be in the letter from Tiryns that would cause such an uproar and sudden action.
“I must speak with Bellerophon of Corinthos,” she said to the slaves who were sitting outside of the suite of rooms.
“Yes, Princess!” said the one named Phoebos as he jumped to his feet, bowed, and opened the doors. “Master, Bellerophon!”
Bellerophon’s voice came from farther in the rooms. “I told you, Phoebos, you don’t need to call me ‘master’.”
“But sir…the lady Philonoe is here to see you.”
Bellerophon came into view, a broad smile across his face as he tied his wet hair back and straightened his crimson tunic. His smile faded quickly when he saw the urgency upon her features. “What is wrong, Princess?”
Philonoe stepped forward slowly, her eyes never leaving his, and the slave disappeared back into the corridor. “Did something happen in Tiryns that you have not told me?”
Bellerophon felt the floor drop from under him. The king has read the letter. “Yes. I will not lie to you. Something did happen.”
“What?” she demanded, and as she did so, she rose to her full, proud height. But there was no menace in how she asked, and that was a relief to Bellerophon.
“Have you read the letter from King Proetus?”
“No. I have only been told to bring you directly to the megaron.”
He stepped forward but did not take her hands or plead. “Then I will go with you now.”
“Tell me what happened, Bellerophon. As my friend…”
He shook his head. “If I tell you now, before you have heard what is in the letter, you will think I have tried to play you false, to cast doubt on the words which I believe it contains.”
“I know you could not play me false,” she said, this time grasping his hand tightly.
“And I pray to the Gods that you continue to know that after we hear what was in that letter.”
She let go of his hand and nodded. “Then let us go together to the megaron.”
Bellerophon turned to look at the rooms, his things there, including his dagger. He thought about grabbing it before leaving, but decided against it. I will go unarmed. I have been down this path before, and daggers are of no use. I don’t care anymore.
The megaron was crowded with people - the courtiers, priests, and some of the soldiers whom Bellerophon had befriended - with the king seated upon his throne and Polyidus standing beside him.
“Daughter,” the king said when Philonoe and Bellerophon entered the megaron. “Thank you for bringing Bellerophon to us. You may leave now.”
“I will stay, Father,” she said, her voice clear and certain in the silent room. She could see the king was angry at this, but he said nothing in reply, and so she made her way to her seat to his left.
Bellerophon stepped forward to face King Iobates. “You asked for me?”
“I did indeed, Bellerophon, son of Glaucus.”
Bellerophon could see that the king looked very tired, as though he had not slept. Dark circles that could not be fully hidden by pigments had gathered beneath his eyes.
I have been here before, Bellerophon thought, and he knew he could have been back in Tiryns, under interrogation once more, were it not for Philonoe.
“What is this about, Father?” Philonoe asked, her abruptness causing some of the courtiers to gasp.
Without a word to his daughter, he handed her the letter from Tiryns for her to read.
Bellerophon tried to catch her gaze before she did so, but she was already reading the deadly symbols upon the tablet, shaking her head as she did so, her eyes growing glassy.
“I have read the letter from King Proetus of Tiryns which you brought, Bellerophon of Corinthos.”
“Yes, King Iobates. I see that.”
“Do you know what it says?” the king demanded.
It was at that moment that Philonoe looked up, horror upon her face.
Bellerophon found that he could not tell if the expressions of disappointment, fear, and anger upon the princess’ face were directed at him, or at the accusations contained in the letter itself.
“I suspect so,” Bellerophon said.
King Iobates began to shake with the rage that he found he could no longer contain. His fists gripped the arms of his throne as he stood and pointed at Bellerophon. “King Proetus says that you tried to rape my daughter, Queen Stheneboea!”
There were murmurs all about the megaron at that, at those dark accusations. People began to point at Bellerophon who stood in their midst.
Bellerophon met Philonoe’s gaze and gave a slight shake of his head before turning to stare at the king. He could feel his own anger rising and he fought hard to keep it down.
“King Iobates… Under the laws of Zeus Xenios, you have welcomed me into your home and kingdom. I have fought beside your men and slain one of your enemies-”
“That is what murders do, is it not?” the king shouted.
“I see,” Bellerophon said calmly, before turning in a slow circle to look at the members of the guard and court. “I tell you now, that the accusations against me that are contained in that letter are false. And the Gods know it!” He turned back to King Iobates. “By Zeus Xenios, I did not commit such an act.”
“Of course you would say so, wouldn’t you?” King Iobates said, sitting back down on his throne. “Just admit you attacked my eldest daughter, Bellerophon. Do not make this difficult.”
“I will not admit to something I did not do, King Iobates. You will have to decide what to do with me, before Zeus Xenios and all the Gods. As you have been a gracious host until now, I will accept whatever your decision is.”
Bellerophon found that he could not be angry. Even with the accusations the king had levelled at him, and the humiliation he was now undergoing before all the court, for in Philonoe’s eyes he could see that she did believe him. That was all that mattered to him in that moment. At last, he had an ally.
King Iobates was silent and torn, and he leaned over to listen to something Polyidus was saying before looking back to Bellerophon.
The entire court and guard watched the king closely.
“I will consult the Gods this night, and announce my decision as to your fate in the morning,” the king said, ignoring his daughter’s gaze beside him. “Until then, you are to remain in your chambers, under guard and without weapons. Captain Milyas?” The king turned to look at the captain who stood nearby. “Take the son of Glaucus away and set a guard upon his rooms.”
Milyas bowed to the king and motioned for three of his men to join him. They surrounded Bellerophon who went with them silently, his eyes holding onto Philonoe’s as he was marched away.
“The king is just, Bellerophon,” Milyas said to him when they reached the chambers. “He will make the right decision.”
Bellerophon turned and looked at the captain. “The king has already decided I am guilty.”
“And are you?” Milyas asked him directly.
“No. I am not. Queen Stheneboea approached me, and I refused her.”
Milyas shook his bowed head. “Then you had the courage to do what many of my men never did. The king’s eldest daughter bedded half the men in my regiment.”
“That is not a consolation, Captain,” Bellerophon said, feeling the sting of betrayal yet again.
“I know,” Milyas said, looking up. “But for what it is worth, I do believe you.”
“Thank you for saying so, but it is the king who must believe me.”
“That is in the hands of the Gods, my friend. For now, I must obey my king and take your weapons from you.” He saw Bellerophon stiffen at the thought. “Don’t worry. I will keep them safe and locked away.”
Bellerophon went into the rooms and returned with the quiver of spears, his sword, dagger and shield. He handed the items over and backed into the room.
“This will all be over tomorrow,” Milyas said before he closed the door and bolted it.
“One way or another, I suppose it will,” Bellerophon said as the lock clicked.
The megaron was empty again as King Iobates sat upon his throne staring into the flames of the great hearth. The frescoed walls seemed to mock and taunt him where he sat as he tried to think of a decision that would satisfy King Proetus and his eldest daughter, but also honour the laws of Xenia.
There is no such solution, he told himself.
The truth was that he knew his eldest daughter’s ways, the magnitude of her spite. And yet, how well did he truly know Bellerophon, a man who was a stranger until just a few days before? Stheneboea, however flawed, was family, and King Proetus an ally who might be able to help him against his own enemies one day.
The king was about to leave when he heard the shuffling sound of Polyidus’ walk and Philonoe’s voice as they approached him.
Philonoe’s eyes were wild and stormy, and Iobates noted that they looked the same as her mother’s when he had upset her so greatly in years past.
“Father!” Philonoe said, leaving Polyidus’ side to step forward quickly. “You cannot do this!”
The king took a deep breath before speaking. “You read the letter, my daughter. You heard what Bellerophon did to your sister.”
“Allegedly,” she said. “Father, you know Stheneboea’s will. She is not kind.”
“Perhaps she angered him, and that is why he attacked her?” Iobates said.
Philonoe shook her head. “He is not that kind of man, Father.”
“Oh, daughter, you are young and inexperienced in the ways of men. Men are capable of terrible things.”
“As are women,” she replied, “and my sister is one of them!”
“You take the side of a stranger over family?” the king accused, pointing his finger at her.
“I take the side of truth!”
“But you do not know the truth, do you? You know what you want to believe. I know you see in him a brave and good man, but men are good at deception so that they can get what they want. Men use people.”
“As do kings, it seems.”
Polyidus listened intently to the king and his daughter argue back and forth, and as he did so, his mind was racing. The Gods had indicated that the kingdom of Lykia depended upon Bellerophon, but if the king executed him, they would be lost. He cleared his throat and raised his hand in the direction of the king’s voice. “Sire, may I say something?”
“Yes, Polyidus, by all means! Say something reasonable.”
“My king… I know that the accusations against the son of Glaucus are severe, and I agree that the honour of your house must be upheld. Such acts, especially toward a queen are heinous indeed. But we must tread carefully here. The laws of Xenia are very clear. That is, I believe, why King Proetus sent Bellerophon here to you. He did not want to betray Zeus’ laws, and neither should you. It would ruin this kingdom and your reputation.”
“As would letting such a villain go free,” the king added.
“This is true,” Polyidus said, hearing the exasperated exhalation of the princess beside him. I hope she understands what I am trying to do. “That said, I still do believe that Bellerophon of Corinthos is the one the Gods have shown me, the one who can help our beleaguered kingdom.”
The fire in the hearth crackled loudly and one of the wooden logs split, sending sparks up to the ceiling.
The three of them were silent before the flames. “The action you take must, all at once, honour the Gods’ laws, satisfy King Proetus, and give the son of Glaucus a fighting chance to prove himself.”
“A fighting chance…” the king said to himself as he leaned forward and stared at the cracked and burning log in the hearth.
Philonoe shook her head as she observed the narrowing of his eyes, and knew that the decision he was reaching would bring ruin on Bellerophon.
The next morning, the entire court gathered once more in the megaron of Xanthos’ palace, only this time, there were more people than the day before. They crowded at the doors of the megaron, and strained to see the king, princess, and the king’s seer seated before the hearth.
Iobates had been awake the whole of the night yet again and it showed in his face. Yet he had a determined and satisfied look in his eyes.
“Father, what is your decision going to be?” Philonoe asked him as they waited for Captain Milyas to bring Bellerophon.
“You will see,” the king said angrily. “And if you gainsay me before the court, I will lock you up too. You are to remain silent or leave.”
Philonoe had never been so angry with her father, and she did not understand why he was doing this. The night before, she had tried to sway Polyidus to convince the king to ignore the charges, but the seer had explained why that would not be good for the king either.
“All I can say, Princess,” Polyidus had said, “is that the Gods favour Bellerophon. You must have faith in Them if anything.”
That night, Philonoe had made offerings and prayed to Athena for wisdom for her father’s judgement, hoping that the goddess would hear her prayers and help Bellerophon. Help him now, oh Goddess! she thought as she spotted Bellerophon being led into the megaron by Milyas and his soldiers.
The crowd, which was pressed up against the very walls of the king’s hall was abuzz with curiosity, but they fell silent when the king raised his hands.
“I have come to a decision regarding the fate of Bellerophon, son of Glaucus of Corinthos!”
Bellerophon looked up, but he did not look first to the king, but rather to Philonoe to confirm that she was still his friend and ally. The concern upon her face, the way she sat as far as she could from the king on her chair, told him all he needed to know. He looked to the king then.
King Iobates stood and looked at his people. “A king must make difficult decisions that affect not only himself, but his people as well. After all, a man’s actions always affect others besides himself. The welfare of this kingdom is ever at the front of my mind. But I must also obey the laws of the Gods, of Almighty Zeus. Bellerophon, son of Glaucus, is a guest in my home, and as such, he is protected by the sacred laws of Xenia. However, if he has committed the crime levelled against him by the King of Tiryns and your former princess, then that is something that must not go unpunished.” He stared at Bellerophon who looked back at him, his great shoulders back, his head high. This gave Iobates pause, but after a few heartbeats, he pressed on.
“As this decision concerns the Gods’ laws, I say we let the Gods decide Bellerophon’s fate!”
There were confused gasps and mumblings about the megaron, and Philonoe turned in her seat to look at her father.
“I shall set three tasks for Bellerophon, three trials that, if he should succeed, he will be deemed completely innocent of the crime for which he is accused. In fact, should he survive and succeed, he will be rewarded!”
Bellerophon stepped forward, his heart now pounding quickly in his chest. “And what impossible tasks do you intend I should complete, King Iobates?” he demanded.
The court fell silent again.
“Your tasks are intended to protect this kingdom which has given you sanctuary. For the first task, you must fight and defeat the Solymi!”
Philonoe stood up quickly beside her father. “That’s not justice! That is a death sentence!” she cried, her voice drowned out by the roar of the crowd in the megaron.
“Sit down!” the king barked at his daughter, before raising his hands for silence in the throne room again. “The Solymi have caused Lykians no end of trouble and pain with their atrocities. Indeed, we have all lost family and friends to them, have we not?”
The people roared their agreement, their anger at their enemy overwhelming any sense of justice that they might have harboured.
“Let the Gods decide his fate in battle!” someone yelled, and the king nodded when he heard that echoed around the megaron.
Iobates stared at Bellerophon, whose eyes were locked onto Philonoe’s, and this made him more determined in his decision. “Bellerophon, son of Glaucus!” he called across the hearth fire. “You shall undertake your first trial tomorrow, before which you may go to our armoury to properly equip yourself for battle. Captain Milyas?”
“Yes, my king?” Milyas said, stepping forward, the stunned look still upon his face.
“You and a small company of men shall go with Bellerophon on this quest, but you shall not aid him. If he should choose to run, you will execute him on the spot!”
Captain Milyas bowed slightly. “Ye…yes…my king.” He looked at Bellerophon then, and in the man’s eyes he saw resignation.
“No!” Philonoe cried above the din, but the king had two guards shuffle her quickly out of the throne room, her protestations lost in the voices of the haranguing crowd as Milyas and his men took Bellerophon out the opposite doors of the megaron.