Extermination of Stymphalian birds. Kerinean doe (fourth feat). Fourth feat: Keriney doe

For the first time, Harold Waring saw them walking along the path around the lake. The weather was beautiful, the lake was blue, the sun was shining. Harold himself sat on the terrace of the hotel, smoking a pipe and enjoying life.

His political career developed in the best possible way. Deputy Minister at thirty - yes, he had something to be proud of. The Prime Minister himself is rumored to have told someone that "young Waring will go far." Harold, unsurprisingly, was elated. Life was painted to him in pink light. He was young, healthy, good-looking and completely unencumbered by romantic ties.

To get out of the well-worn rut and take a break from everything and everything, Harold decided to spend his vacation in Herzoslovakia.

The hotel on Lake Stempka was quite small, but cozy and not too crowded. Mostly foreigners lived there, but there were only two Englishmen: Mrs. Rice and her daughter, Mrs. Clayton. Harold liked both of them. Elsie Clayton was a lovely woman, although her beauty seemed a little old-fashioned. Mrs. Clayton wore little make-up, was meek and rather shy. Mrs. Rice, on the other hand, was what is called a woman of character. Tall, with a low voice, she, despite her imperious demeanor, had a sense of humor and was an excellent conversationalist.

It was felt that her life was inseparable from the life of her daughter.

Harold spent many pleasant hours in their company, but for all that, mother and daughter did not abuse his favor, and the relationship between them and Harold remained not burdensomely friendly.

Other guests - mostly tourists - did not arouse Harold's interest. They spent a day or two in the hotel and went on - some on foot, some by bus. Until today, Harold simply did not notice anyone else ...

The two women were walking slowly up the path from the lake, and the moment Harold's eyes fell on them, the sun disappeared behind a cloud. Harold shivered slightly.

He couldn't take his eyes off the strangers. There was something sinister about their appearance. Long hooked noses resembled bird beaks, and utterly similar faces were absolutely motionless. Loose-cut cloaks fluttered in the wind like the wings of huge birds.

The women went up to the terrace and passed quite close to him. Both are in their fifties, and the resemblance was so strong that they could only be sisters. They looked at the world aloofly. As they passed Harold, they both looked at him for a moment, appraising, hard.

Harold felt the breath of evil even more clearly. The hands of one of the sisters, with long, claw-like fingers, rushed into his eyes ... Although the sun had already come out from behind the clouds, he shivered again and thought:

“Disgusting creatures… Just predators…”

His thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Rice coming out of the hotel. Jumping up, Harold pulled out a chair for her. Thanking her, she sat down and, as usual, began to knit vigorously.

Did you notice the two women who just entered the hotel? Harold asked.

In capes? Yes, we missed each other.

Very unique, right?

Yes, there is something strange about them. If I'm not mistaken, they just arrived yesterday. And they are very similar to each other - they must be twins.

Maybe it's just my fantasies, - Harold did not back down, - but, in my opinion, there is something sinister in them.

Indeed? Mrs Rice smiled. - I'll have to take a closer look at them. Who knows, maybe you are right.

Mrs. Rice glanced at her watch.

It's time for tea. If you'd be so kind as to ring the bell, Mr. Waring, please.

With pleasure, Mrs. Rice.

Having fulfilled the request and returning to the place, he asked:

What is it that your daughter can't see today?

Elsie? Today we walked a little along the lake and returned through the pine forest. It's been a wonderful walk.

The waiter appeared and took the order. Mrs. Rice, without leaving her knitting for a moment, went on:

Elsie received a letter from her husband. She might not come down for tea.

From a husband? Harold wondered. For some reason I thought she was a widow.

Casting him a piercing look, Mrs. Rice said dryly:

Unfortunately!

Stunned, Harold didn't know what to say.

Drunkenness is the cause of many troubles, Mr. Waring, - Mrs. Rice shook her head grimly.

He drinks?

Yes. And this is not its only drawback. He is insanely jealous and unusually quick-tempered,” sighed Mrs. Rice. “It's hard to live in our world, Mr. Waring.

I have devoted myself completely to Elsie, she is my only daughter, and seeing her toil with him is simply unbearable.

She's such a meek creature," Harold said with sincere feeling.

Maybe too meek.

You want to say…

Happy people value themselves more. I'm afraid Elsie's meekness comes from hopelessness. She has suffered too much from life ...

After hesitating, Harold asked:

And how did she manage to marry this type?

Philip Clayton was very attractive, said Mrs. Rice. - Simply irresistible. He still knows how, if necessary, to be very charming. He was a wealthy man, but there was no one to tell us what he was like as a person. I have been a widow for many years, and it is difficult for two single women to look into the soul of a man.

That's right," Harold agreed thoughtfully.

A wave of anger and pity washed over him. Elsie Clayton was twenty-five at most. He remembered the open look in her blue eyes, the soft curve of her mouth... Harold suddenly realized that he felt something more than friendly sympathy for her.

And such a woman was married to a scoundrel...

2

That same evening, after dinner, Harold saw Elsie too. She was wearing a lovely dull pink dress. And her eyelids, too, were pink - and swollen - she was clearly crying.

I found out who these harpies of yours are, Mr. Waring,” Mrs. Rice began bluntly. - According to the receptionist, they are Polish and seem to be from a very good family.

Harold glanced across the hall, where the said ladies were sitting.

Those two ladies with henna-dyed hair? Elsie asked with interest. “They really look sinister—I don’t even know why.

That's what I think," Harold said triumphantly.

I think both of you are talking nonsense, - laughed Mrs. Rice. - Is it possible to determine at a glance what a particular person is?

Elsie laughed too and said:

Probably not. And yet they are very similar to vultures!

For God's sake, stop it, - Elsie turned pale.

Sorry, - hastened to apologize Harold.

One way or another, they are unlikely to cross our path, - said Mrs. Rice with a smile.

And what about Mr. Waring? Mrs. Rice winked.

Harold laughed, throwing his head back.

I have no secrets, he assured. - My life is an open book.

How foolish those who turn off the straight path are, the thought flashed through his mind. The main thing is that your conscience be clear. And then you can safely look life in the eye and send to hell anyone who tries to stop you!

He suddenly felt strong and ready for anything, the master of his own destiny.

3

Like many Englishmen, Harold Waring was not distinguished by linguistic abilities. In French, he explained himself with sin in half and with clearly British intonations, and he had not the slightest idea about German or any Italian at all.

Prior to this trip, he did not have any language problems. In most European hotels, the staff understood English, and there was no need to bother remembering any nonsense.

But in this wilderness, where everyone spoke some kind of Herzoslovakian dialect and even the receptionist could only speak German, Harold often had to resort to the help of his friends. Mrs. Rice, a real polyglot, even knew a little Herzoslovak.

Harold felt very uncomfortable and was determined to take up German. It remained only to buy textbooks and every day to carve out an hour or two for classes.

It was a wonderful morning, and after writing a couple of letters, Harold decided to take a walk before lunch, which was still an hour away. He went down to the lake, and from there turned into a pine forest. About five minutes later he heard a sound that could not be confused with anything. Somewhere in the distance, a woman sobbed desperately.

Harold froze, then walked towards the sound. And I saw... Elsie Clayton. She sat on a fallen tree, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with weeping.

After hesitating, Harold stepped closer and softly called out:

Mrs Clayton... Elsie?

Startled, she turned around.

May I help you? he asked, sitting down beside her. - Anything?

No... No... - She shook her head. - Thank you, you are very kind, but no one can help me.

Does it have anything to do with... your husband? Harold dared to ask.

Elsie nodded, wiped away her tears, and took out a compact of powder.

Mom gets so upset when she sees that I'm upset. I didn't want to worry her, so I went here to cry. I know it's funny, tears won't help grief. But sometimes life just seems unbearable.

I'm sorry, Harold mumbled helplessly.

She looked at him gratefully and said hastily:

I myself am to blame for everything. I married Philip of my own free will, so I can only blame myself for the way things turned out.

You have nothing to blame yourself. You are very kind and sweet...

Kindness has nothing to do with it, - Elsie shook her head. "Besides, I'm a terrible coward." That's probably why Philip is so hard for me. I'm terribly afraid of him, just shaking with fear when he has fits of rabies.

You need to drop it! Harold didn't hesitate.

I can not. He... he will never let me go.

What nonsense! Finally, there is divorce.

I have no formal reason for this, - Elsie slowly shook her head and squared her shoulders. - I'll have to continue to bear my cross. I do spend a lot of time with my mom. Philip doesn't mind, especially if we go somewhere in the wilderness, like here. You see," she added, blushing, "he is madly jealous.

As soon as I talk to another man, he immediately makes terrible scenes.

Harold often heard women complain about jealous husbands, but as he sympathetically agreed with them, he always thought to himself that their husbands were absolutely right. But Elsie...

She not only did not try to seduce him, but she did not even make eyes at him.

Shivering slightly, Elsie moved away from him and looked up at the sky.

The sun has set, it's getting colder. It's time for us to return to the hotel. Lunch is coming soon.

Rising, they moved towards the hotel and soon overtook a woman walking in the same direction. He immediately recognized her by her fluttering cloak: it was one of the "harpies".

Coming up with her, Harold gave a slight bow.

She did not deign to return the greeting, but threw him and Elsie an appraising look that made Harold's cheeks flush. Didn't that proud Polish woman see how she and Elsie were sitting on a fallen tree? If you saw it, you probably thought...

Yes, her gaze was as if she thought… Anger surged through him. How imaginative some ladies are!

Evidently, just as the sun had set and Elsie shivered and recoiled, that witch saw them...

Somehow, Harold felt uncomfortable.

4

Harold went up to his room at about ten that evening. Mail came from England, and they brought him a whole pile of letters that required an urgent Answer.

After changing into pajamas and a bathrobe, Harold sat down at his desk. He had scribbled three letters and was just beginning to write the fourth when the door flew open and Elsie Clayton rushed into the room.

Stunned, Harold jumped to his feet. Elsie slammed the door behind her and stood clinging to the chest of drawers, panting. Her face was white as chalk, she seemed scared to death.

This is my husband! she breathed. - He arrived so unexpectedly ... I .., I'm afraid he will kill me. He's not himself... just not himself. I ran to you. Hide me. She staggered forward and nearly fell over. Harold caught up with her.

At the same moment, the door swung open, and an unfamiliar thick-browed man with sleek black hair appeared on the threshold. In his hands was a heavy wrench. His suddenly high-pitched voice trembled with rage, almost screeching:

So the damn polka was right! You have tricks with this fellow!

No, Philip, no! Elsie exclaimed. - This is not true! You're wrong!

Philip Clayton moved menacingly towards her, and Harold stepped forward, shielding the woman.

Ah, am I wrong? Clayton called out. - After I found you in his room? Witch, I will kill you!

With a deft move, he ducked under Harold's arm. Elsie jumped back crying and hid again behind Harold, who had turned around, ready to repel the attack.

But Philip Clayton wanted only one thing: to get to his wife. He again took a detour. Frightened, Elsie ran out of the room; Philip Clayton rushed after her. Harold, without hesitation, rushed after him.

Elsie darted to her own bedroom at the end of the corridor. Harold heard the sound of a key turning in the keyhole, but it was too late. The lock did not have time to snap into place, - Philip Clayton fell on the door and burst into the room. There was a frightened cry from Elsie. Harold rushed to help.

When he burst into the room, cornered Elsie pressed herself against the window shade, and Philip Clayton came up to her, waving a monkey wrench. With a cry of horror, the woman grabbed a heavy paperweight from the desk and threw it at her husband.

Clayton fell like a wreck. Elsie screamed piercingly. Harold froze in the doorway. The young woman fell to her knees next to her husband. He lay motionless where he had fallen.

Somewhere in the corridor came the sound of a bolt being pulled back. Elsie jumped up and rushed to Harold.

I beg you .., please ... - she murmured in a barely audible voice, - go to your place. People will come... they will see you here...

Harold nodded. He instantly assessed the situation. At least for a while Philip Clayton was hors de combat Disabled (fr.). but Elsie's cries could be heard. If he was found in her room, it could turn into all sorts of misunderstandings. And for her sake, and for his own sake, the scandal should have been avoided.

Trying not to make any noise, he slipped into his room. Before he could jump in there, the sound of someone's door opening came from outside.

He spent almost half an hour waiting in his room, not daring to leave. He was sure that, sooner or later, Elsie would show up.

There was a soft knock on the door. Harold jumped up and let in a late guest.

But it wasn't Elsie, it was her mother, and Harold was amazed at how she looked. She had aged several years, her gray hair was disheveled, and black circles appeared under her eyes.

Harold hurried to seat her in a chair. She was breathing heavily, painfully.

You are completely exhausted, Mrs. Rice,” he said. - Bring you something to drink?

She shook her head.

No. It's not about me. I'm fine, I'm just in shock. Mr Waring, the unthinkable has happened.

What, Clayton is hurt? Harold asked.

Worse. She swallowed hard. - He is dead…

5

The room swam before Harold's eyes. Shedding cold sweat, he was silent, unable to utter a word.

Dead? he repeated dully at last.

Mrs Rice nodded.

The paperweight, and it is heavy, made of marble .., it hit his temple, ”she said in an even, lifeless voice that betrayed complete exhaustion,“ and he hit the back of his head on the grate. I don't know what exactly caused it, but he's dead. I know, I have experience... he is really dead.

Disaster, Harold thought. - Catastrophe, catastrophe, catastrophe ... "

It was an accident, he exclaimed. - I saw how it all happened.

Of course it was an accident,” said Mrs. Rice bitterly. - I know that. Only now .., will the rest believe in this? I... to tell you the truth, Harold, I'm scared! We're not in England.

I can confirm Elsie's words," Harold said slowly.

Yes, and she can confirm yours,” agreed Mrs. Rice. - That's the whole point!

Harold immediately understood what she meant ... Indeed, they were in a delicate position.

She and Elsie spent quite a lot of time together. One of the "harpies" saw them then in a pine forest and could decide that this was a love date. These Poles do not seem to speak English, but perhaps they understand something. This woman, if she heard their conversation, could pick up words like "jealousy" and "husband." Anyway, she clearly said something to Clayton that made him jealous. Now Clayton is dead, and at the time of his death, he, Harold, was in Elsie Clayton's room. How can you prove that he didn't hit Philip Clayton with a paperweight? And that the jealous husband did not find them at the scene of the crime. Nothing - except for their words with Elsie. Will they believe them?

Cold terror seized him.

No, he didn't think at all - really didn't think - that he or Elsie could be sentenced to death for a crime they didn't commit. In any case, they could only be charged with negligent murder (is there such a thing abroad?). But even if they are acquitted, an investigation cannot be avoided, let alone idle reporters write. "Englishman and English-caubite accused jealous husband - under suspicion budding politician." This will be the end of his political career. She can't handle this scandal.

Is it possible to get rid of the body? he blurted out vehemently. - Move it somewhere, - and immediately felt himself blush under the surprised and dismissive look of Mrs. Rice.

Harold, my dear, this is not a detective story! she remarked caustically. - We'd mess it up even more.

You're right, of course, Harold muttered. - But what to do? he moaned. - Lord, what should we do?

Mrs. Rice shook her head resignedly. Frowning, she thought hard about something.

Is there nothing we can do? Harold asked. - Is it all gone?

Yes, here it is, a disaster. Unexpected, terrible, inevitable ...

They stared at each other.

It’s not worth talking about me ... - Harold squeezed out of himself through force, although deep down of course he didn’t think so.

And what an injustice," continued Mrs. Rice bitterly. - After all, there was not even a hint of intimacy between you, I already know.

You, at least, will be able to testify, - Harold grasped at the straw, - that our relations were purely friendly.

I can do it, - Mrs. Rice replied with the same bitterness, - but will they believe me? You know what kind of people are here!

Harold ruefully agreed. Local residents will certainly consider that there was something between him and Elsie, and all Mrs. Rice's denials will be perceived as strained attempts to save her daughter.

Yes, - he said, - we are not in England, that's the trouble.

Here you are right, - raised her head Mrs. Rice. - This is not England ... And perhaps that is why there is a way out ...

What? said Harold.

How much money do you have with you? said Mrs. Rice.

Take a little with you. Of course, you can ask to be translated by telegraph.

It might cost you dearly,” Mrs. Rice warned, “but I think it's worth a try.

Harold's heart sank a little.

And what's your plan? - he asked.

We ourselves cannot hide what happened, - Mrs. Rice spoke decisively, - but I think that all this can be settled in an official way.

You think so? Harold asked hopefully, though with some disbelief.

Yes. First, we will have a manager on our side. He has a vested interest in the matter being hushed up.

And then, it seems to me that in these provincial Balkan countries, anyone can be bribed, and even more so the police.

You know, - drawled Harold, - but you are probably right.

Fortunately,” continued Mrs. Rice, “I don't think anyone in the hotel heard anything.

Who lives in the next room?

These two Poles. It is unlikely that they heard anything, otherwise they would have looked out into the corridor. Philip arrived late and no one but the night porter saw him. You know, Harold, I really think that the matter can be hushed up and officially recognized that Philip's death was natural. You just need to smack someone. The question is who exactly - most likely the chief of police.

It all looks like an operetta,” Harold chuckled weakly, “but, in the end, the attempt is not torture.

6

Mrs. Rice immediately began to act - she was full of energy. The manager was called. Harold did not leave the Room, preferring to stay away. He and Mrs. Rice decided that it would be best to present everything as a quarrel between husband and wife. Elsie's youth and beauty should have made her sympathetic.

The next morning, several policemen appeared and were escorted to Mrs. Rice's room. They left around noon. Harold telegraphed for a large sum of money to be transferred to him, but he did not take part in anything else - and this would be very difficult, since none of the law enforcement officers spoke English.

At noon, Mrs. Rice came into his room, very pale and tired, but relief was evident on her face.

It worked! she said simply.

Thank God! I have no idea how you managed to deal with them!

From the ease with which everything went, you might think that this is the order of things here, ”said Mrs. Rice thoughtfully. - Their hands are clawing. How disgusting!

Now is not the time to fight corruption,” Harold pointed out dryly. - How?

The rates are quite high,” Mrs. Rice sighed and read out the list:

Chief of Police - 100.000 dinars

Commissioner - 60.000 dinars

Inspector - 40.000 dinars

Doctor - 25.000 dinars

Hotel manager - 20.000 dinars

Night porter - 5.000 dinars

Not bad for a night porter,” was all Harold said. - Only enough for new braids.

The manager stipulated that the death should be recorded outside the walls of the hotel. According to the official story, Philip had a heart attack on the train. He did not have enough air, he went out of the compartment into the corridor and .., fell onto the rails. The police know how to work if they want!

Well, Harold concluded, thank God our police don't work like that.

And with a sense of superiority for everything British, he went to lunch.

7

After lunch, Harold usually had coffee with Mrs. Rice and her daughter. He decided not to change the usual routine today.

For the first time since last night, he saw Elsie. She was very pale, fear and pain froze in her eyes. But she tried to make small talk, inserting routine phrases about the weather and local attractions into the conversation.

Among other things, they discussed the newly arrived new guest, trying to determine his nationality. Harold believed that only a Frenchman could have such a mustache, Elsie considered their owner a German, and Mrs. Rice had no doubt that their owner was a Spaniard.

There was no one on the terrace except them and two Polish sisters, who were sitting in the far corner, embroidering.

As always, the sight of their motionless faces sent a chill of foreboding down Harold's spine. Those hooked noses, those long, claw-like fingers...

A messenger came and called for Mrs. Rice. She followed him into the lobby of the hotel, where some police officer was waiting for her in full regalia.

What do you think, - Elsie asked in a barely audible voice, - nothing happened?

No, no, what are you, - Harold hastily reassured her, although he himself felt a sudden attack of fear.

Your mother was wonderful,” he said aloud.

Yes, mom is a fighter. She does not give up under any circumstances. But it's all so terrible, - Elsie shuddered.

No need. Everything is in the past.

I can't forget that... that I killed him, my own husband.

Don't think like that," Harold said convincingly. - There was an accident, you yourself understand this.

Her face brightened a little.

And in any case, everything is already in the past, ”Harold repeated. - The past is the past. Try to get it out of your head.

Mrs. Rice returned. It was clear from her expression that the matter had been settled.

I was terribly frightened, - she announced almost cheerfully, - but it turned out that we were talking about some minor formalities. It's all right, my children. The clouds have dissipated.

I think we can afford some liquor for the occasion.

When the liquor was brought, they raised their glasses.

For the future! Mrs Rice said.

For your happiness! Harold said smiling at Elsie.

Smiling back, she said:

And for you - for your success! I am sure you will become a great person.

After the fear experienced, there was a backlash.

They were cheerful, almost frivolous. The clouds cleared, everything was going well...

At the other end of the terrace, two women who looked very much like birds of prey got up, neatly folded their knitting and moved along the stone slabs in their direction.

Bowing, they sat down next to Mrs. Rice.

One of them spoke, the other glanced at Elsie and Harold. A smile played on her lips. Harold didn't like that smile right away...

He glanced at Mrs. Rice and her companion. Although Harold couldn't understand a single word, Mrs. Rice's expression was very eloquent. It reflected the old bitterness and despair. Mrs. Rice listened intently, occasionally inserting brief remarks.

At last the sisters got up and, bowing ceremoniously, went to the inn.

What's the matter? Harold asked in a suddenly hoarse voice.

These women are going to blackmail us,” said Mrs. Rice hopelessly. They heard everything at night. And now, when we tried to cover up the case, everything looks even worse ...

8

Harold Waring wandered and wandered along the lake. For more than an hour, as if trying to drown out the despair that gripped him with physical fatigue.

Unbeknownst to himself, he found himself where he first noticed two sinister persons, in whose clutches they were with Elsie of fate.

Damn them! he said aloud. "Damn those harpies!" Bloodthirsty creatures!

There was a cough behind him. Harold turned around sharply and saw the former owner of a luxurious mustache coming out of the shade of the trees in front of him.

Harold felt embarrassed in the highest degree: this little man must have heard his words.

In some confusion, he mumbled:

Uh, good afternoon.

Not very good for you, I'm afraid? the stranger inquired sympathetically in impeccable English.

Well .., I ... - Harold was even more confused.

You, monsieur, seem to be in difficulty? continued the strange man. - Can I help you with something?

No, no, what are you! I let off steam, so to speak, that's all.

You know, I think I can help you,” the stranger said softly. - If I'm not mistaken, your problems are connected with the two ladies who were just sitting on the terrace?

Do you know something about them? Harold glared at him. - And who are you, exactly? he added.

I am Hercule Poirot, - said the little man with feigned modesty, with which it would be appropriate to report royal origin. - Let's take a walk in the forest, and you will tell me everything.

Harold did not really understand what made him, for no reason at all, tell everything to a practically unknown person. Perhaps it was nervous tension. Anyway, he laid everything out for Hercule Poirot, from beginning to end.

Poirot listened in silence, only occasionally nodding his head.

When Harold stopped talking, he suddenly said dreamily:

Stymphalian birds with iron beaks, living near the Stymphalian lake and feeding on human flesh ... Everything converges.

Sorry? Harold glared at him.

In the depths of his soul, a suspicion stirred ... Is he really crazy, this strange little man?

I'm just thinking aloud," Poirot smiled. - I, if you please, have my own way of looking at things.

Now about your business. You are in a very embarrassing position.

I guessed about it without you, - Harold got angry.

Blackmail is a very serious matter,” continued Poirot. “These harpies will make you pay, pay, pay. What if you refuse?

Everything will come out,” Harold said bitterly. - Then you can put an end to my career, the life of an unfortunate woman who has not harmed anyone will turn into hell, and who knows how it all will end in general!

That is why, said Poirot, something must be done.

What? Harold asked.

Poirot, half-closing his eyes, suddenly threw back his head - Harold again doubted his sanity.

It's time for brass tympanums Timpani are percussion instruments resembling small timpani. According to legend, Hercules struck the tympanums on a hill near the forest where the Stymphalian birds nested, and when the birds took off from the noise, he shot them with a bow., he announced importantly.

You are probably unwell? Harold asked.

Mais non No way (fr.) Poirot shook his head. “I'm just trying to follow the example of my great predecessor, Hercules. Be patient, my friend. Perhaps tomorrow I will be able to save you from your troubles.

9

Coming down to breakfast the next morning, Harold Waring found only Poirot sitting alone on the terrace. In spite of his will, Harold did not remain indifferent to his yesterday's promises and immediately approached with questions:

And what?

It's all right," Poirot smiled radiantly.

What do you have in mind?

Everything was arranged to everyone's satisfaction.

But what happened in the end?

I used brass tympanums,” said Poirot dreamily. - He used the ringing of metal wires - in other words, he resorted to the services of the telegraph! Your Stymphalian birds, monsieur, have been sent to a place where they will be deprived of their enterprise for a while.

So the police were looking for them? Were they arrested?

That's it.

Wonderful! - Harold took a breath - It didn't occur to me. We must find Mrs. Rice and Elsie and tell them everything.

He got up from his chair.

They already know everything.

Fine, - Harold sat down again - Tell me ...

He stuttered.

Up the path from the lake rose two figures with a birdlike profile, in fluttering capes.

You said you took them! exclaimed Harold.

Poirot followed his gaze.

Ah, these people? They are completely harmless. They are from Poland, from a good family, as the porter told you.

Their appearance may not be very attractive, but nothing more.

I do not understand…

That's right, you don't understand. The police were looking for other ladies: the resourceful Mrs. Rice and the tearful Mrs. Clayton. They are birds of prey. They make their living by blackmail, mon cher My dear (fr.)..

Harold's head was spinning.

But that man… well, the one who was killed…” he said in a weak voice.

Nobody was killed. There was no man at all.

But I saw!

Oh no. Tall Mrs. Rice with her deep voice perfectly portrays men. It was she who, having removed her gray wig and appropriately made up, acted as a husband.

Leaning forward, he patted Harold's knee.

You can't be so gullible, my friend. In any country, it is not so easy to bribe the police, especially when it comes to murder. These women played on the usual English ignorance of foreign languages. It is Mrs. Rice, thanks to her knowledge of French or German, who negotiates with the manager and takes matters into her own hands. Yes, the police come to her, but do you know why? You don't know what's really going on.

Maybe she said she lost her brooch or something like that. The main thing is that the police come and you see it and. What happens next? You telegraph for money to be transferred to you, a lot of money, and give it to Mrs. Rice, who handles all the negotiations.

Which is exactly what they needed. But these predators are too greedy. They noticed that for some reason you feel disgust for the unfortunate Poles. And when these ladies struck up some quite innocent conversation with Mrs. Rice, the temptation was too great. She knew you didn't understand anything at all.

So, you would have to ask for another amount of money to be transferred to you, and Mrs. Rice would pretend to distribute it among new extortionists.

Harold took a deep breath.

And Elsie... Elsie? - he asked.

She, as always, played her part beautifully, - Poirot averted his eyes. You can't deny her acting skills. The very purity and innocence. It does not even cause passion, but a desire to protect, to be a true knight. With the English it works flawlessly,” added Poirot dreamily.

Harold Waring took a deep breath and said emphatically:

I won't be me if I don't learn every European language there is! No one will fool me again.

Today I ran into one commander, whose name once thundered in all inhabited lands. Now even historians do not know about it. His fame and deeds have sunk into oblivion forever.

Talking about his victories, that commander said that he owed all his won battles to only one thing - the confidence that he would definitely win.

Everything can be. I know almost nothing about victory, I never held it in my hands. Unless I can tell one interesting story that I heard from Hercules. Already Hercules knows much more about victory than me and that commander forgotten by time, because he is the only mortal in whose blood there is a drop of a special divine gift.

I am proud of many of my accomplishments. For example, I myself destroyed the terrible Lernean hydra, and the gods are not involved here.

And yet, sometimes it was impossible to do without the help of the Olympians. For example, in the story of the Stymphalian birds.

These birds were made by Hephaestus at the request of Hera. Hephaestus did his best. His huge birds of bronze and copper were invincible, at least mortals could not defeat them.

Hera settled the Hephaestus birds near the Stymphalian lake so that no one would interfere with her swimming there whenever she wished.

When Eurystheus sent me to kill the Stymphalian birds, I immediately realized that this was not without the Queen of Olympus herself. After all, whatever the outcome of the battle, Hera will win - either my death or her anger will now be justified, because I will destroy her beloved copper-bronze birds.

I was more inclined towards the first option, and therefore my path to Stymphalian Lake dragged on for a long time. But even the longest roads eventually come to an end.

Arriving at the place, I hid in a thicket of trees and watched for a long time two huge birds that, without closing their eyes, guarded the lake. I did not find any flaws or weaknesses in them.

I thought that perhaps the weakest point of these birds is their eyes, and it would be worth trying to hit them with a bow, although I have always been a mediocre shooter. And then suddenly I felt someone's presence. I turned around. Near me stood the formidable Pallas Athena herself. I greeted the goddess.

After defeating the hydra, you made a great sacrifice to me, ”said Athena.

Without your help, I would not have been able to defeat this terrible monster, I flatteringly lied.

But Athena just shrugged it off.

I am a warrior, not an intriguer, - said Pallas, - and there is nothing to please me in vain.

I didn't mean to offend the goddess! I exclaimed.

But Athena just brushed it off again.

I will help you defeat the birds of Hephaestus,” she said, “you are a brave man, albeit a weak warrior. These are the ones who make the best warriors.

I remained silent, not daring to interrupt.

On the chest of these birds there is a copper plate that looks like a star. This is their weakest point.

Thank you Goddess for your help, I thanked her.

But she didn't finish.

And one more thing, - she handed me a small flask of wine, - drink it when your strength leaves you completely.

I took the flask and wanted to thank the goddess again, but she had already disappeared.

Well, now you can fight with these birds.

No longer hiding, I stepped out of the thicket. Yet my hands shook with fear as I drew my blade from its scabbard.

Seeing me, the Stymphalian birds let out a furious cry, soared into the sky and from there fell down like a stone. I took cover behind my shield, and when the birds fell on it from the sky, I was completely deaf from the ringing and roar. And my shield shattered into pieces, and the hand that held it hung like a whip.

And yet I found the strength to hit one of the birds. My blow was strong and accurate - straight into the star-shaped copper plate. But useless - not even a scratch left.

The birds pounced on me, and I barely managed to dodge their big copper beaks. On the ground they were clumsy and moved slowly. So I soon managed to escape from their untiring beaks. Then the birds again soared into the sky and from there pounced on me.

I realized that I was no longer able to fight them, grabbed the flask and quickly drank its contents.

However, nothing happened. It was just ordinary wine. I did not feel a divine surge of strength, or even the slightest lightness. And two huge birds fell on me from heaven.

I jumped back at the very last moment, but one of the birds ran into my sword, knocking it out of my hand. Unarmed, I started running again.

For the third time, the Stymphalian birds soared into the sky. But the one with my sword sticking out of her belly caught it on a branch of a large tree, she was spun, and she crashed into the trunk with all her might. Bronze and copper parts rained down to the sides. Only a deathly furious cry was heard.

The second howled even more furiously and rushed at me. Without looking back, I ran as fast as I could.

Again, chance saved my life. Catching my foot on some root, I flew head over heels to the ground, and the copper claws of the bird only scratched my shoulder. Without getting up, I grabbed a stone from the ground and threw it after her. The stone hit the bird in the wing, and bronze feathers fell to the ground. Flapping its broken wing, the remaining Stymphalian bird sank to the ground and ran tirelessly toward me.

I picked up a new stone, threw it at her and ran away. The stone hit her in the head, but the Stymphalian bird only stopped for a moment and again continued its clumsy run.

So we ran for a very long time, but my tactics took their toll. Soon the bird fell for the last time and could no longer even get up. Then I took a large stone, went up and broke her head ...

Hercules said that Eurystheus turned green with anger when he saw Hercules alive. And Hera on Olympus emanated bile and appealed to the celestials to punish Hercules, and with him Pallas Athena, because of which her beloved Stymphalian birds died.

But the Olympians did not find the guilt of the warrior goddess, and did not do anything.

Hercules, after the victory, made a great sacrifice to Pallas, because she helped him win.

But how? - I exclaimed, - you never took advantage of the advice of Pallas, and the wine that she gave you did not give you strength. You yourself defeated these birds, and Athena had nothing to do with it.

Hercules laughed and said:

I have thought about this riddle for a long time. But he still couldn't find an answer.

And the wise centaur Chiron solved the riddle, to whom Hercules told about his battle with the Stymphalian birds.

In the wine that you drank, - said Chiron to Hercules, - there was a drop of the blood of the goddess. Otherwise, you would never defeat the birds of Hephaestus, because a mortal cannot destroy them. And Athena is “Pallas” for that, to always win. Hitra turned out to be the goddess of battle.

One day, the evil Hera sent a terrible disease to Hercules. The great hero lost his mind, madness took possession of him. In a fit of rage, Hercules killed all his children and the children of his brother Iphicles. When the attack passed, deep grief seized Hercules. Purified from the filth of the involuntary murder he had committed, Hercules left Thebes and went to the sacred Delphi to ask the god Apollo what to do. Apollo ordered Hercules to go to the homeland of his ancestors in Tiryns and serve Eurystheus for twelve years. Through the mouth of the Pythia, the son of Latona predicted to Hercules that he would receive immortality if he performed the twelve great labors at the command of Eurystheus. Hercules settled in Tiryns and became the servant of the weak, cowardly Eurystheus...

First Labor: Nemean Lion

Second Labor: Lernaean Hydra

Third Labor: The Stymphalian Birds

Fourth feat: Keriney doe

Fifth feat: Erymanthus boar and the battle with the centaurs

The sixth feat: Animal farm of king Avgiy

Seventh feat: Cretan bull

Eighth Labor: Horses of Diomedes

Hercules at Admetus

Mainly based on the tragedy of Euripides "Alcestis"
When Hercules sailed on a ship across the sea to the shores of Thrace for the horses of King Diomedes, he decided to visit his friend, King Admet, since the path lay past the city of Ther, where Admet ruled.
Hercules chose a difficult time for Admetus. Great grief reigned in the house of King Fer. His wife Alcestis was to die. Once the goddesses of fate, the great moiras, at the request of Apollo, determined that Admet could get rid of death if, in the last hour of his life, someone agreed to voluntarily descend instead of him into the gloomy kingdom of Hades. When the hour of death came, Admet asked his elderly parents that one of them agreed to die in his place, but the parents refused. None of the inhabitants of Fer agreed to die voluntarily for King Admet. Then the young, beautiful Alcestis decided to sacrifice her life for her beloved husband. On the day when Admet was to die, his wife prepared for death. She washed the body and put on burial clothes and ornaments. Approaching the hearth, Alcestis turned to the goddess Hestia, who gives happiness in the house, with an ardent prayer:
- Oh, great goddess! For the last time I kneel here before you. I pray you, protect my orphans, because today I must descend into the kingdom of gloomy Hades. Oh, do not let them die, as I die, untimely! May their life here, at home, be happy and rich.
Then Alcestis went around all the altars of the gods and decorated them with myrtle.
Finally, she went to her chambers and fell into tears on her bed. Her children came to her - a son and a daughter. They sobbed bitterly at their mother's breasts. The maids of Alcestis also wept. In desperation, Admet embraced his young wife and begged her not to leave him. Already ready for the death of Alcestis; the god of death Tanat, hated by the gods and people, is already approaching with inaudible steps to the palace of Tsar Fer, to cut a lock of hair from the head of Alcestis with a sword. The golden-haired Apollo himself asked him to postpone the hour of death of the wife of his beloved Admet, but Tanat is inexorable. Alcestis feels the approach of death. She exclaims in horror:
- Oh, the two-oared boat of Charon is already approaching me, and the carrier of the souls of the dead shouts menacingly to me, ruling the boat: “Why are you delaying? Oh let me go! My legs are getting weak. Death is coming. Black night covers my eyes! Oh children, children! Your mother is no longer alive! Live happily! Admet, your life was dearer to me than my own life. Let the sun shine on you, not on me. Admet, you love our children as much as I do. Oh, do not take a stepmother into their house, so that she does not offend them!
The unfortunate Admet suffers.
- You take all the joy of life with you, Alcestis! - he exclaims, - all my life now I will grieve for you. Oh, gods, gods, what a wife you are taking from me!
Alcestis says in a barely audible voice:
- Goodbye! My eyes have already closed. Farewell, children! Now I am nothing. Farewell, Admet!
- Oh, look again at least once! Don't leave the kids! Oh, let me die too! Admet exclaimed with tears.
Alcestis' eyes closed, her body grows cold, she died. Weeps inconsolably over the dead Admet and bitterly complains about his fate. He tells his wife to prepare a magnificent funeral. For eight months he orders everyone in the city to mourn for Alcestis, the best of women. The whole city is full of sorrow, as everyone loved the good queen.
They were already preparing to carry the body of Alcestis to her tomb, as Hercules comes to the city of Thera. He goes to the palace of Admetus and meets his friend at the gates of the palace. With honor Admet met the great son of the auspicious Zeus. Not wanting to sadden the guest, Admet tries to hide his grief from him. But Hercules immediately noticed that his friend was deeply saddened, and asked about the reason for his grief. Admet gives an unclear answer to Hercules, and he decides that Admet's distant relative died, whom the king sheltered after the death of his father. Admet orders his servants to take Hercules to the guest room and arrange a rich feast for him, and lock the doors to the female half so that groans of grief do not reach Hercules' ears. Unaware of the misfortune that befell his friend, Hercules feasts merrily in the palace of Admetus. He drinks cup after cup. It is hard for servants to wait on a cheerful guest - because they know that their beloved mistress is no longer alive. No matter how hard they try, on the orders of Admet, to hide their grief, yet Hercules notices tears in their eyes and sadness on their faces. He calls one of the servants to feast with him, says that the wine will give him oblivion and smooth out the wrinkles of sadness on his forehead, but the servant refuses. Then Hercules guesses that grievous grief befell the house of Admet. He starts asking the servant what happened to his friend, and finally the servant tells him:
- Oh, stranger, Admet's wife descended today into the kingdom of Hades.
Heracles was saddened. It hurt him that he feasted in a wreath of ivy and sang in the house of a friend who suffered such great grief. Hercules decided to thank the noble Admet for the fact that, despite the grief that befell him, he nevertheless received him so hospitably. The decision quickly matured in the great hero to take away from the gloomy god of death Tanat his prey - Alcestis.
Having learned from the servant where the tomb of Alcestis is located, he hurries there as soon as possible. Hiding behind the tomb, Hercules is waiting for Tanat to fly in to get drunk at the grave of sacrificial blood. Here the flapping of the black wings of Tanat was heard, there was a breath of grave cold; the gloomy god of death flew to the tomb and greedily pressed his lips to the sacrificial blood. Hercules jumped out of the ambush and rushed to Tanat. He seized the god of death with his mighty hands, and a terrible struggle began between them. Straining all his strength, Hercules fights with the god of death. Tanat squeezed the chest of Hercules with his bony hands, he breathes on him with his chilling breath, and from his wings the cold of death blows on the hero. Nevertheless, the mighty son of the Thunderer Zeus defeated Tanat. He tied Tanat and demanded as a ransom for freedom that the god of death be returned to life by Alcestis. Tanat gave Hercules the life of Admet's wife, and the great hero led her back to her husband's palace.
Admet, returning to the palace after the funeral of his wife, bitterly mourned his irreplaceable loss. It was hard for him to stay in the deserted palace, Where should he go? He envies the dead. He hates life. He calls death. Tanat stole all his happiness and took him to the kingdom of Hades. What could be harder for him than the loss of his beloved wife! Admet regrets that she did not allow Alcestis to die with her, then their death would have united them. Hades would have received two faithful souls instead of one. Together these souls of Acheron would have crossed. Suddenly, Hercules appeared before the mournful Admet. He leads by the hand a woman covered with a veil. Hercules asks Admet to leave this woman, which he inherited after a hard struggle, in the palace until he returns from Thrace. Admet refuses; he asks Hercules to take the woman to someone else. It is hard for Admet to see another woman in his palace when he lost the one he loved so much. Hercules insists and even wants Admet to bring a woman into the palace himself. He does not allow the servants of Admet to touch her. Finally, Admet, unable to refuse his friend, takes the woman by the hand to lead her into his palace. Hercules tells him:
- You took it, Admet! So protect her! Now you can say that the son of Zeus is a true friend. Look at the woman! Doesn't she look like your wife Alcestis? Stop mourning! Be happy with life again!
- Oh, great gods! - Admet exclaimed, lifting the woman's veil, - my wife Alcestis! Oh no, it's only a shadow of her! She stands silently, she did not say a word!
- No, it's not a shadow! - answered Hercules, - this is Alcestis. I got it in a hard fight with the lord of souls Tanat. She will be silent until she is freed from the power of the underground gods, bringing them redemptive sacrifices; she will be silent until night changes day three times; Only then will she speak. Now farewell, Admet! Be happy and always observe the great custom of hospitality, consecrated by my father himself - Zeus!
- Oh, great son of Zeus, you gave me the joy of life again! - exclaimed Admet, - how can I thank you? Stay my guest. I will order in all my possessions to celebrate your victory, I will order great sacrifices to be made to the gods. Stay with me!
Hercules did not stay with Admet; a feat awaited him; he had to fulfill the order of Eurystheus and get him the horses of King Diomedes.

Labor 9: Hippolyta's Belt

Heracles rescues Hesione, daughter of Laomedon

On the way back to Tiryns from the country of the Amazons, Hercules arrived on ships with his army to Troy. A heavy sight appeared before the eyes of the heroes when they landed on the shore near Troy. They saw the beautiful daughter of the king of Troy, Laomedont, Hesion, chained to a rock near the seashore. She was doomed, like Andromeda, to be torn to pieces by a monster emerging from the sea. This monster was sent as a punishment to Laomedon by Poseidon for refusing to pay him and Apollo a fee for the construction of the walls of Troy. The proud king, who, according to the verdict of Zeus, had to serve both gods, even threatened to cut off their ears if they demanded payment. Then, the angry Apollo sent a terrible pestilence to all the possessions of Laomedont, and Poseidon - a monster that devastated, sparing no one, the surroundings of Troy. Only by sacrificing the life of his daughter could Laomedon save his country from a terrible disaster. Against his will, he had to chain his daughter Hesion to a rock by the sea.
Seeing the unfortunate girl, Hercules volunteered to save her, and for the salvation of Hesion, he demanded from Laomedont as a reward for those horses that the Thunderer Zeus gave to the king of Troy as a ransom for his son Ganymede. He was once kidnapped by the eagle of Zeus and carried to Olympus. Laomedon agreed to Hercules' demands. The great hero ordered the Trojans to build a rampart on the seashore and hid behind it. As soon as Hercules took cover behind the rampart, a monster emerged from the sea and, opening its huge mouth, rushed at Hesion. With a loud cry, Hercules ran out from behind the shaft, rushed at the monster and plunged his double-edged sword deep into his chest. Heracles saved Hesiona.
When the son of Zeus demanded the promised reward from Laomedont, it became a pity for the king to part with the marvelous horses, he did not give them to Hercules and even drove him away with threats from Troy. Hercules left the possession of Laomedont, holding his anger deep in his heart. Now he could not take revenge on the king who had deceived him, since his army was too small and the hero could not hope to soon capture impregnable Troy. The great son of Zeus could not stay under Troy for a long time - he had to rush with Hippolyta's belt to Mycenae.

Tenth feat: Cows of Gerion

Eleventh move. Cerberus kidnapping.

Hercules had to descend into the kingdom of no return. Everything about him was terrifying. Cerberus himself was so powerful and terrible that the very sight of him chilled the blood in his veins. In addition to three disgusting heads, the dog had a tail in the form of a huge snake with an open mouth. The snakes also writhed around his neck. And such a dog had to be not only defeated, but also brought alive from the underworld. Only the lords of the kingdom of the dead, Hades and Persephone, could give their consent to this.

Hercules had to appear before their eyes. At Hades, they were black, like coal, formed at the site of the burning of the remains of the dead, at Persephone they were light blue, like cornflowers on arable land. But one could read genuine surprise in both of them: what does this impudent man need here, who violated the laws of nature and descended alive into their gloomy world?

Bowing respectfully, Hercules said:

Do not be angry, mighty lords, if my request seems bold to you! The will of Eurystheus, hostile to my desire, dominates me. It was he who instructed me to deliver to him your faithful and valiant Cerberus guardian.

Hades' face twitched with displeasure.

Not only did you yourself come here alive, you set out to show the living someone whom only the dead can see.

Forgive my curiosity, - Persephone intervened. - But I would like to know how you think about your feat. After all, Cerberus has not yet been given into the hands of anyone.

I don’t know, Hercules admitted honestly. But let me fight him.

Ha! Ha! - Hades laughed so loudly that the vaults of the underworld shook. - Try it! But just fight on equal terms, not using weapons.

On the way to the gates of Hades, one of the shadows approached Hercules and made a request.

Great hero, said the shadow, you are destined to see the sun. Will you agree to do my duty? I have left my sister Dejanira, whom I did not have time to marry.

Tell me your name and where you come from, - said Hercules.

I am from Calydon, the shadow replied. There they called me Meleager. Hercules, bowing low to the shadow, said:

I heard about you as a boy and always regretted that I could not meet you. Stay calm. I myself will take your sister as a wife.

Cerberus, as befits a dog, was in his place at the gates of Hades, barking at the souls who tried to approach Styx in order to get out into the world. If earlier, when Hercules entered the gate, the dog did not pay attention to the hero, now he attacked him with an evil growl, trying to gnaw through the hero's throat. Hercules grabbed two necks of Cerberus with both hands, and struck a powerful blow on the third head with his forehead. Cerberus wrapped his tail around the legs and torso of the hero, tearing the body with his teeth. But Hercules' fingers continued to tighten, and soon the half-strangled dog went limp and wheezed.

Not allowing Cerberus to recover, Hercules dragged him to the exit. When it began to get light, the dog came to life and, throwing up his head, howled terribly at the unfamiliar sun. Never before has the earth heard such heartbreaking sounds. Poisonous foam fell from the gaping mouths. Wherever even one drop of it fell, poisonous plants grew.

Here are the walls of Mycenae. The city seemed deserted, dead, since already from a distance everyone heard that Hercules was returning with a victory. Eurystheus, looking at Cerberus through the crack in the gate, yelled:

Let him go! Let go!

Hercules did not hesitate. He released the chain on which he led Cerberus, and the faithful dog Hades rushed to his master with huge leaps...

The twelfth feat. Golden apples of the Hesperides.

These are the fruits that Eurystheus ordered to bring, and not in order to be equal to the gods. He hoped that Hercules would not fulfill this assignment.

Throwing a lion's skin over his back, throwing a bow over his shoulder, taking a club, the hero walked briskly to the garden of the Hesperides. He's used to getting the impossible done.

Hercules walked for a long time until he reached the place where heaven and earth converged on Atlanta, as on a giant support. With horror, he looked at the titan holding an incredible weight.

I am Hercules, - the hero answered. - I was ordered to bring three golden apples from the garden of the Hesperides. I heard that you alone can pick these apples.

Joy flashed in Atlanta's eyes. He was up to something bad.

I can't reach the tree, - Atlas said. - Yes, and my hands, as you can see, are busy. Now, if you hold my burden, I will gladly fulfill your request.

I agree, ”Hercules answered and stood next to the titan, who was many heads taller than him.

Atlas sank, and a monstrous weight fell on the shoulders of Hercules. Sweat covered his forehead and all over his body. Legs went ankle-deep into the ground trampled down by Atlanta. The time it took the giant to get the apples seemed like an eternity to the hero. But Atlant was in no hurry to take back his burden.

If you want, I myself will take the precious apples to Mycenae, ”he suggested to Hercules.

The simple-hearted hero almost agreed, fearing to offend the titan who had rendered him a service, but Athena intervened in time - it was she who taught him to respond with cunning to cunning. Pretending to be pleased with Atlas's offer, Hercules immediately agreed, but asked the titan to hold the vault while he made a lining under his shoulders.

As soon as Atlas, deceived by the feigned joy of Hercules, shouldered the usual burden on his overworked shoulders, the hero immediately raised his club and bow and, ignoring the indignant cries of Atlas, set off on his way back.

Eurystheus did not take the apples of the Hesperides, obtained by Hercules with such labor. After all, he needed not apples, but the death of a hero. Hercules gave the apples to Athena, who returned them to the Hesperides.

This ended the service of Hercules to Eurystheus, and he was able to return to Thebes, where new exploits and new troubles awaited him.

Stymphalian birds

(third feat)

Eurystheus instructed Hercules to kill the Stymphalian birds. Almost all the neighborhoods of the Arcadian city of Stimfal turned these birds into the desert. They attacked both animals and people and tore them apart with their copper claws and beaks. But the most terrible thing was that the feathers of these birds were made of hard bronze, and the birds, having taken off, could drop them, like arrows, on the one who would take it into his head to attack them. It was difficult for Hercules to fulfill this order of Eurystheus. The warrior Pallas Athena came to his aid. She gave Hercules two copper tympanums, the god Hephaestus forged them, and ordered Hercules to stand on a high hill near the forest where the Stymphalian birds nested and strike the tympanums; when the birds take off - shoot them with a bow. So did Hercules. Climbing the hill, he struck the tympanum, and such a deafening sound arose that the birds flew over the forest in a huge flock and began to circle in horror over it. They rained down their feathers, sharp as arrows, on the ground, but the feathers did not fall into Hercules standing on the hill. The hero grabbed his bow and began to strike the birds with deadly arrows. In fear, the Stymphalian birds soared beyond the clouds and disappeared from the eyes of Hercules. The birds flew away far beyond the borders of Greece, to the shores of the Euxine Pontus, and never returned to the vicinity of Stymphal. So Hercules fulfilled this order of Eurystheus and returned to Tiryns, but he immediately had to go on an even more difficult feat.

Lernaean Hydra

When Hercules brought King Eurystheus his first combat trophy - the head of a huge lion, the king questioned the feat of the hero. Were there any witnesses? BUT! Were not. So you can't prove it was you who killed the lion? No, brother. Will not work. If you want to get into the Guinness Book of Records, you must provide documentary evidence of your feat, and even a bunch of witnesses. So, my friend, I'm giving you one more chance. Go and kill the Lernaean Hydra that lives three kilometers from the city of Lerna. Ask my secretary for the exact address.
And the cunning Eurystheus sent Hydra to kill Hercules because he was very fond of cranberries in sugar. And cranberries grew only in that swamp and nowhere else. And as the terrible Hydra started up in that swamp, they stopped collecting cranberries. Who wants to die for the royal whim?
Hercules had to go to fight the Hydra. He found her in a huge swamp two and a half kilometers from Lerna. Hercules approached the paradise of the swamp and shouted loudly:
- Hey, Hydra-Mydra! Get out! Let's measure strength!
At his cry, a huge snake head, the size of a barrel, poked out of the swamp. Behind her is the second. Next is the third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eighth. Ninth! Although Hercules did not know how to count, because he did not study at school, he realized that the Hydra had many heads. So, it's going to be a tough job.
And all the nine heads of the Hydra, as they saw Hercules, hissed with a terrible hiss, from one sound of which one can die with fear:
"So it's you, you little man!" It's you, Hercules, the killer of my own brother, the Nemean lion! Now I will tear you to pieces!
- Let's see who will defeat whom, swamp creature! - exclaimed the hero.
Hercules grabbed the club and, well, let's hit the hydra's heads. Bach! Bach! Bach! Bach! Bach! Bach! Bach! Bach! Bach! He knocked off all the heads, but only sees that in place of the cut heads, new ones immediately grew. Hercules began waving his club again. And again all the heads of the Hydra grew back. Hercules fought for three hours without a break, but he just couldn’t defeat the Hydra. Yes, his friend Iolaus helped him here, whom Hercules took with him as a witness, so that he could apply for a feat in the Guinness book. While Hercules brandished his club, Iolaus dragged a barrel of gunpowder to the swamp, which he took with him - just in case. Iolaus inserted a wick into the barrel, set fire to it, and threw the barrel into the swamp. And he shouts to a friend: “Take off your feet, Hercules! Now, how fucking!” Hercules barely managed to get out of the swamp.
This is where it exploded. Tore the hydra into a thousand pieces, and scattered these pieces all over Greece. Since then, in every swamp in Greece, the hydra has been sitting. Now you understand why there are no cranberries in Greece? Now the Greeks buy cranberries in Russia.
Hercules found a pair of severed Hydra heads in a swampy swamp, and, as a trophy, brought them to King Eurystheus. And Tsar Eurystheus again does not believe him. Did you only bring two heads? Hydra had nine of them. Yes, and you have only one witness, I told you that there should be a whole bunch of witnesses. So, my friend, here's another challenge for you. Go and kill all the Stymphalian birds. They do not give life to people and animals. And no one can deal with them. So you prove that you are the strongest of all!
And you ask: where did the two heads of the hydrina go? That's right - right there. At Sotheby's auction.