Jason and Pelias — Greek Mythology

The Child Raised in the Mountains

The city of Iolcus stood near the gulf, where its people often watched ships come and go, and just as often heard commands issued from the palace. In those days the man who held power there was Pelias. He was not the rightful king, but by force he had taken the kingship into his own hands. Aeson, who had the better claim, had been thrust aside. Guards stood outside the palace gates, spies watched within, and no one dared speak loudly in his defense.

Aeson had a young son named Jason. The child was still small, and if he remained in the palace, sooner or later he would fall into Pelias’ hands. Aeson and his wife dared not make their plans known. They let it be believed that the boy had died, and by night they sent him secretly out of the city. The infant, still in swaddling clothes, was entrusted to Chiron the Centaur and carried away into the mountains, far from the palace.

Chiron lived deep among the trees. He was not like the wild and quarrelsome Centaurs who loved violence and disorder. He knew herbs, music, and the training of both body and spirit. Jason grew up beside him. In the morning he learned to recognize plants on the slopes; in the afternoon he practiced casting the spear beside the stream; at night he listened to old tales of gods and heroes. When the wind moved through the pines, the boy often looked toward the distant gleam of the sea. He knew he was not truly a child of the mountains. His father was in Iolcus, and his home was there as well.

When Jason had grown into a strong young man, Chiron told him the story of his birth. Jason did not cry out at once, nor did he rush to swear revenge. He gathered his short spear, put on his traveling cloak, took leave of the teacher who had raised him, and set out along the mountain road toward Iolcus.

The Young Man with One Sandal

On the road home he came to the river Anaurus. That day the water was swollen and swift. Muddy currents struck the stones, and white foam boiled up in clumps. On the bank stood an old woman, her clothing pressed against her by the wind. She seemed unable to cross and looked anxiously toward the far side.

Jason went to her and asked where she wished to go. The old woman said she had to cross the river, but had not the strength to step into such a torrent. Jason did not hesitate. He bent down, let her brace herself on his shoulder, and lifted her onto his back. Then he stepped into the river. The water covered his calves at once, then surged up around his knees. He felt for stones with each step. The riverbed was slick, and the current pulled at his feet. Just as he neared the opposite bank, one sandal was caught by mud and weed and swept away downstream.

He set the old woman down and looked back, but the sandal had already vanished. The woman, however, did not flutter or fret as an ordinary old woman might have done. She only looked at him quietly. Jason did not know that this was Hera, secretly testing him. Pelias had once slighted the goddess, and she had not forgotten. Now her eyes had turned toward this young man.

So Jason went on toward Iolcus with one foot shod and the other bare.

That same day Pelias was holding a sacrifice in the city. Cattle were led before the altar; smoke rose from the fire; nobles and common people gathered nearby. Pelias stood among them, but his heart was uneasy. Long before, an oracle had warned him to beware the man who came wearing only one sandal.

When Jason passed through the crowd, many people noticed him. He was tall, with the clear look of the mountains still upon his face. A traveler’s cloak hung from his shoulders. One foot wore a sandal; the other was bare and stained with river mud. Pelias saw him too, and his expression changed at once.

He did not break out in anger before the people. Instead he pressed down his fear and asked who the stranger was, and where he had come from. Jason stood straight and answered, “I am Jason, son of Aeson. I have returned to my father’s city to claim the throne that belongs to my house.”

At these words a murmur ran through those nearby. For years no one had dared speak Aeson’s name, and now a young man had uttered it openly before the altar. Pelias knew that if he killed Jason at once, the people would grow suspicious, and resentment might be stirred up against him. So he put on a mild face, invited Jason into the palace, and said that the matter of the kingship could be discussed at leisure.

Pelias’ Task

A feast was set out, and the hall filled with the smell of roasted meat and wine. Pelias sat in the chief seat and seemed gracious, but inwardly his thoughts were racing. The man named by the oracle had come. He could not be allowed to remain in the city. Better to send him somewhere as far away as possible, to perform a deed almost no man could accomplish.

Pelias asked Jason, “If you knew that a certain man was fated to harm you, what would you do with him?”

Jason was young and plainspoken, and Hera was secretly guiding his thoughts. He answered, “I would send him to fetch the Golden Fleece from Colchis.”

That was exactly the reply Pelias had been waiting for. He seized upon it at once. “Well spoken,” he said. “Since you ask for the throne, first do a great service for this city. Go and bring back the Golden Fleece. It is an ancient treasure of our line, and it has lain in a far country too long. If you can carry it back to Iolcus, I will restore the kingship to you.”

Jason’s heart sank when he heard this. He knew that Colchis lay far in the east, beyond many sea roads; and he knew that the Golden Fleece was no common sheepskin hanging carelessly from a branch. But the words had been spoken. If he drew back before the people, he could never again demand the throne. So he said, “I will go.”

Pelias looked at him with a smile, as though he already saw the young man vanishing upon the sea.

The Old Tale of the Golden Fleece

Jason had heard, since childhood, why the Golden Fleece lay in Colchis.

Long ago, the children of Athamas, Phrixus and Helle, were betrayed by their stepmother and nearly sent to the altar as victims. At the moment of danger, a sacred ram with a fleece of gold and shining horns came from the sky and knelt so the two children could climb upon its back. The ram carried them over land and strait. The sea wind blew fiercely, and on the way Helle lost her hold and fell into the water. That stretch of sea was afterward named for her. Phrixus alone reached Colchis, where King Aeetes received him.

In gratitude to the gods, Phrixus sacrificed the sacred ram and gave the Golden Fleece to Aeetes. The king hung it in the grove of Ares and set a sleepless dragon to guard it. The fleece shone with golden light; it was both treasure and honor. Anyone who sought to take it would have to face the far sea, a foreign king, and the dragon coiled beneath the tree.

These were the dangers on which Pelias had set his hopes. He did not need to strike Jason down with his own hand. If only he could send him to sea, storm, monster, and sword would surely remove the threat for him.

The Heroes Board the Argo

After Jason left the palace, he did not hide again in the mountains. He began to prepare for the voyage. He called for a great, strong ship to be built. Shipwrights cut timber, planed the planks, and laid the keel beside the shore. Day by day the vessel took shape. Long oars lined her sides, and her hull was broad enough to carry many warriors. In time this ship would be called the Argo.

When word spread, heroes from all over Greece began to come to Iolcus. Some brought bows, some spears. Some wore lion skins; some were famed for seamanship or song. They did not come for Pelias’ sake, but for the voyage no one had yet made, for the Golden Fleece, and for the hope of leaving their names before the eyes of men.

Jason stood beside the new ship and watched them board one by one. The sea wind stirred the sail; the oar handles flashed in the sun. People from the city gathered along the shore. Some marveled, some worried, and some secretly hoped the young man might indeed return alive.

Pelias came as well. He arrived with the splendor of a king and spoke words of blessing, though in his heart he hoped the Argo would never come back. Jason offered sacrifice before the people and prayed that the gods would guard the voyage. The fire rose, and smoke drifted out over the sea.

When all was ready, the mooring ropes were cast off, and the rowers pulled together. The Argo moved away from shore, her prow cleaving the water as she sailed toward the distance. Jason stood aboard and looked back at Iolcus. The palace and walls slowly dwindled behind him. Pelias’ task had become a real journey, and what Jason meant to bring home was not only the Golden Fleece, but the honor and standing that had been stolen from him.

For now, the story has not yet reached the shadowed grove where the fleece hangs, nor the gates of the palace in Colchis. It pauses first on the shore of Iolcus: a usurping king has set a trap in the shape of a voyage, and a young man with one sandal has accepted it, sailing with a ship full of heroes into the unknown sea.