This is from my book The Storytellers. Myths are the bones of religious stories. Every generation adapts them to suit the current challenges.
Was there ever a man more blessed than prince Bellerophon? He was a son of the sea god Poseidon, and a prince in a peaceful kingdom. It is true he had some great misfortune but no one escapes such things and he was even lucky in overcoming them! Yet despite these fortunes, he still managed to be unhappy!
Bellerophon was much beloved in the city of Corinth, although it might be said that he had less regard for the people than they had for him, and the truth was, he was rather bored. His parents, the king and queen, doted - perhaps a bit too much - on him and his brother Deliades. They were raised with all the blessings, honor, and affection that well-off parents can offer their children.
It was common knowledge that Poseidon had visited Bellerophon’s mother and that the prince was actually the son of a god. Yet his earthly father seemed to bear Bellerophon no ill will over his parentage and loved both boys equally. Such things were entirely normal for that time in history, and should not be viewed as peculiar.
One day, the two princes went out hunting with a group of friends. They had brought wine with them and were doing more drinking than hunting. This resulted in some highly questionable singing, causing prey with any sense to get out of earshot.
“I croon of wealth's mother,
Olympian Demeter, in the seasons when garlands are worn,
and you, child of Zeus, Persephone…” Bellerophon was humming to himself, rather off-key, as he looked for a private spot to relieve himself. The wine his brother had provided was excellent. Quite above par, and he’d had rather a lot. The world spun lazily around him as he leaned on his spear.
He had just finished, letting loose a sigh, when he heard a crashing in the bushes to his left. Certain that either a buck or a boar was approaching, he picked up the spear he had rested against a tree and rammed it into the leaves just as his brother, Deliades staggered out.
Deliades clutched at the shaft that Bellerophon had just thrust into him, and they stared at each other in surprise and shock before Deliades collapsed, dead.
“Oh, gods!” Moaned Bellerophon. “What have I done? Oh Deliades, why did you insist on bringing the wine? The furies will chase me unto madness!”
If this response seems a bit over the top for modern understanding, especially since Deliades’s death was a genuine, if preventable, accident, it should be explained that in the ancient world, the killing of any family member was the absolute worst sort of crime. It was the first law. Only being cleansed by a priest or anointed king could he atone and be forgiven. If not, the furies would pursue him with no mercy.
For the ordinary person, getting the attention of such an important man, because it was always a man, would have required many gifts. Not to mention fortunate timing, and a certain amount of begging. Perhaps a lot of begging. Lucky for Bellerophon, his family’s reputation extended beyond Corinth, and he was able to go straight to King Proetus.
Proetus was married to Sthenobea. When Bellerophon entered the king’s throne room, he noticed, even in his distressed state, that her eyes widened. The girls who had sought the attentions of him or his brother looked the same way and Bellerophon thought the queen wished to bed him.
But even if he had found her attractive, which he did not - she was old enough to be his mother - he was there to free himself from guilt. He bowed low before Proetus. “Great king, I beg you to help me atone for the accidental death of my brother, Deliades. He insisted on bringing wine on our hunt, and that I should drink as much as he. In my befuddled state, I mistook him for a boar, and killed him as he came through the bushes.”
Proetus didn’t notice how his wife was looking the young man up and down. He was thinking about how beneficial it would be for Bellerophon’s parents to think well of him.
“Go to the temple of Apollo and pass the night there in prayer. Do this and I will grant you forgiveness.”
“You are a fair and great king!” Bellerophon replied, deeply relieved to have been given such an easy atonement.
He did as Proetus asked, and happily accepted the king’s blessing and his invitation to stay at his palace for a few days. The invitation was obligatory. Xenia was the law of sacred guest right, most cherished by the father of the gods himself, Zeus. All in the ancient world abided by xenia, from famers to kings. Kindness to the stranger meant that one might receive help ones-self in time of need. Any guest must be treated with honor, and their safety and comfort made paramount, and of course, guests were expected to act the same in return.
Three nights later, he was awakened by a warm, nicely-scented body slipping into his bed. Bellerophon woke up fast as Queen Sthenobea tried to embrace him. He was revolted. Why did a woman as old as she think he would want her? He leaped out of the bed and backed away. Bedding his host’s wife was, in any case, contrary to the law of xenia.
He said, “Are you insane, woman? You’re as old as my mother! Why would I want you? I can have any maiden I wish.” Which was true. He was, after all, a prince, and attractive to the eye.
Sthenobea glared, pulled her clothing around her, and left his room without a word.
“Argh!” He groaned and threw himself back on the bed. “Why do these things have to happen to me? I’m the son of Poseidon. My life should be easier! That was so stupid of her…”
In the morning, Sthenobea went straight to her husband and lied, while sniffling and leaking onion-induced tears. She told him that their guest had tried to rape her, which was certainly a violation of xenia.
But that very law that kept Proetus from taking the revenge he greatly desired. It was a dilemma. He couldn’t simply kill Bellerophon without also violating the second most sacred rule of the ancient Greek world. Xenia worked both ways. Even though - so he thought - Bellerophon had violated the rule of guest-right, he, Proteus was still subject to that law. Any revenge he might take would draw the attention of the father of the gods who viewed xenia as his best work. Annoying Zeus was a terrible idea.
So Proetus came up with a plan.
“I was wondering if you might deliver a letter to my father-in-law for me?” He asked Bellerophon. The letter, sealed against prying eyes, read, “Kill the bearer of this message. He tried to violate my wife, your daughter.” Which Proetus thought would take care of the problem without violating any spiritual laws.
Bellerophon was happy to have an excuse to leave. He thought this would work out very well. He could explore the world a bit before going back home. There might be a chance to do something heroic, and home was too prosperous and peaceful for anything interesting to happen. After all, what young man didn’t want to make a name for himself? To be remembered for generations to come? He couldn’t do that if he hurried back home to his grieving parents.
He brought the letter to King Iobates at all speed.
But instead of opening the letter at once, Iobates, who enjoyed his wine, feasted with young Bellerophon for nine days. Bellerophon thought this was no more than he deserved after his visit to Proetus. It was about time that things started going his way. And of course, he knew nothing of the letter.
The wine and food were just what Bellerophon thought he deserved. And while he didn’t touch her, he enjoyed the looks he received from Iobates’s daughter, who was a great deal younger than her sister Queen Sthenobea, and very pretty.
By the time Iobates finally read the letter from his son-in-law, he too had the obligations of xenia. He needed to figure out what to do, and it didn’t take long for him to come to a course of action. One that would might even take care of two problems at once.
During their next meal, Iobates contrived to have news brought to him at the table where he dined and drank with Bellerophon. A chimera was ravaging the countryside! How terrible!
Bellerophon thought this was a quest well-suited to his station and abilities. It was fair that the gods finally gave him a chance to properly prove himself.
“I’ll kill it for you!” Bellerophon declared.
“Oh no! You are my guest! A chimera is far too dangerous! They have two heads! Three if you count the snake head on their tail. And they breathe fire!”
“I insist! It is my duty!” Bellerophon said. It was not the duty of any guest to go fight monsters. But killing the thing would make certain he was remembered for generations.
Iobates continued to protest for a while but eventually gave in, making sure Bellerophon couldn’t see his secret delight. He gave a sigh of relief when the young man left the palace to pursue fame.
After considering how he might kill a creature that breathed fire, Bellerophon commissioned a special spear. It had a point made of lead that would melt inside the throat of the fire-breathing chimera. He began walking to his destination. It was not a short trip on foot but Iobates hadn’t offered him a horse. Which in hindsight seemed to Bellerophon to be rather stingy.
When his feet were feeling sore, he stopped at a local temple to rest and offer a prayer to the goddess Athena. It never hurt to have a war goddess on one’s side when pursuing glory.
At the temple, Athena spoke to him in a vision, explaining he would need more than his clever spear to defeat the chimera. She told him how to go about taming the wild, winged horse, Pegasus.
This is right. It’s only fair that I should have divine help. Bellerophon thought, although he had the good sense not to say so aloud.
Riding Pegasus alone would have earned him fame. For what could be more exciting, more wonderful, than to ride a flying horse high above the earth? With the magic bridle Athena gave him, Pegasus was quickly tamed and Bellerophon was able to kill the chimera in an epic battle, which was indeed remembered for future generations.
But when he returned with one of the chimera’s heads, thinking to earn praise from the king, Iobates bemoaned having enemies at his border. It was, in fact true, although they were less threatening than annoying for the king. But once again, he hoped Bellerophon would not return.
Of course, the prince offered to take care of them as well. This he did with speed as he now had the ability to travel through the sky on Pegasus. What enemy expected an attack from above in those times? And this particular enemy were hardly more than bandits. But because they were causing great pain to the local farmers, dispatching them earned Bellerophon the affection of Iobate’s subjects.
Iobates was deeply frustrated by this time. Why couldn’t the annoying boy get himself heroically killed? Finally, in what could only be thought of as a fit of bad judgement, the king sent his own guard after Bellerophon.
It was only then that the young man realized Iobates had actually been trying to kill him all along.
“What the Hades! Why is he trying to kill me? It’s not fair! He should be singing my praises! I saved his country three times over!” Bellerophon had no intention of getting caught by the guard, Nor was it likely that he would. But he wanted revenge for Iobates’s machinations.
Flying Pegasus high over the plain that lay on the slope below the city, he raised his arms and cried, “Oh great father Poseidon! Hear my plea! I, your son Bellerophon, do beg and implore you to lay your wrath on the king that would try to hurt me!”
Poseidon’s answer was a wave of water that rushed across the plain from the ocean, thundering toward the city. Bellerophon turned Pegasus in that direction and urged him forward. He quickly found Iobates, after landing Pegasus on the roof of the palace.
“Why have you been trying to kill me!” Bellerophon demanded of the king.
Iobates, having realized that this youth, who had nobly taken care of two of his problems, and who had the ear of god of the ocean, couldn’t have done what Queen Sthenobea had accused him of. He looked ashamed and handed Bellerophon the letter.
Bellerophon was confused and stared blankly at it.
“Go on. Read it. It’s what you brought me from my son-in-law, Proetus.”
Bellerophon read it. Then read it again. “That’s not true.” He dropped the letter, feeling both confused and angry. Then he realized what must have happened. “She lied!”
Iobates nodded, “I can see now that she did. I don’t know why she would do such a thing. You’ve done nothing but make my kingdom a better, safer place. I am sorry.”
At that, the water that had been pressing the city walls pulled back and began to drain away.
Iobates said, “please, let me make it up to you. Marry my other daughter and stay here. Be my heir. You’ve certainly earned it, and the people like you.”
Bellerophon considered this. Iobates’s other daughter was very pretty, and she had been looking at him from under her long lashes. And a city of his own that he had earned by defending it seemed a much better bargain than one he would inherit. That felt fair. “I accept!” He proclaimed.
This could have been Bellerophon’s happy ending. He could have spent his life, loving his wife, cherishing his children, and soaring through the sky with his marvelous winged horse. He could have chosen to be grateful for the many blessings that had been bestowed upon him.
He did not.
Instead, he became dissatisfied with nearly everything about his life. The people of the kingdom were annoying. They fawned on him and kept begging him to solve their problems. His wife constantly wanted his attention. His offspring were loud and ill-behaved. And flying on Pegasus was boring if he wasn’t killing something. He wanted more.
He wanted to live with the gods. Why shouldn’t he sit at the table with them and dine on manna? Since he was a genuine hero, and a son of Poseidon, surely they would welcome him.
Now normally, getting to the abode of the gods, Mount Olympus, was impossible. It was too high for a human to climb, and even if it were not, there were no paths. The gods had no need for such things.
But Bellerophon had Pegasus.
One day he took off on the winged horse without bothering to mention to his wife, children, or father-in-law that he had no plans to return. Up, and up he flew, and up. He urged Pegasus higher until the gods could see him approaching.
Sadly, Bellerophon was entirely wrong about how the gods felt about his presence. And while deities are beyond human understanding by their nature, even simple humans do not care to be around someone resentful, and with an overly high opinion of their value. Certainly, heroic acts are a fine thing. But a failure to recognize blessings will make anyone, even the gods, turn away.
Did Zeus laugh when he sent a gadfly to sting Pegasus’s haunches, and buzz about his eyes?
No.
But neither did he watch as Pegasus bucked wildly, tossing his head, and Bellerophon was thrown off, falling to the rocks far below.
Strangely, or perhaps not, the prince who had been blessed with so much ended his long days as a bitter cripple.
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Selina Rifkin, M.S. [Nutrition], LMT, has been Pagan since she was 14 [which was a long time ago] and been to Hades in a handbasket. More than once. This has given her some opinions. She has direct communication with her gods and they’ve always given her answers when she asks. [One does have to ask.] Like most of her generation [X] she’s okay with snark. Most days she tries for good writing. But the snark, and side comments creep in. Be warned.
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