Throwback: A Hercules Fable

Hello! Welcome to Stories Podcast. I'm your host Amanda Weldon. Today's story is a throwback episode. Tune in to hear one of our classic stories from the archive that you might have missed the first time around. We have stories podcast merch available at storiespodcast.com slash shop. We're also on Camille for all of your personalized video

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www.iaxL.com slash dragon to get the most effective learning program out there at the best price. Thanks! Enjoy the episode! A Hercules' Fable Once upon a time in ancient Greece, a wagon trundled across the countryside.

There wasn't a road exactly, so the ride was long and bumpy. Most people preferred to travel by sea, but some places couldn't be reached by the water, and hardworking wakiners could make good coin taking the long, dirty trip over land. Clion was a Wagner, whether he was a hard-working one remained to be seen.

This was his first trip. He was only a boy, but he'd inherited the wagon from his uncle. It wasn't greatest far as wagons go. The wheels were squeaky and creaky.

It's white canopy grade with age. Clion's horse was showing some age as well. His wavy black mane was humbly sparse and dusted with gray. Come on, Hercules, pick up those feet.

Clion called, flicking the reins. He had named the horse hercules when he was a kid. It had seemed a good strong name. Now though, with the horse old and slow, it felt more like an ironic joke.

Pick up the pace you will nag, he called again. The horse looked over his shoulder, saw a clean, lounging comfortably on the wagon seat, and gave the boy a dirty look. Don't start with me Hercules.

We've got to get these all of a spart of before the festival, or our buyer won't give us half as much money. With the hump, Hercules picked up his pace, trotting the wagon up and down the long and bumpy road.

Clion began to relax a little. They were making good time. His mind began to wander, the rains held loosely, and joined the glow of the sun on his olive skin.

Of course, he should have been watching the road, but he was still a boy, and boys are nothing if not easily distracted. So he was completely taken by surprised when the wagon suddenly jerked to a halt and tipped forward, spilling Leon yelping into a big muddy puddle, splash!

What the, Hercules, come on! He stood up, scooping fat handfuls of mud from his eyes and pulling clogs of it from his curly hair. Hercules, we need loud and long, to Cleon's ears, it sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Real funny, you big lug, why'd you stop like that? As soon as he asked, he could see his answer, though. had pooled in a low spot in the road, forming the mud puddle. The rear wheels of the wagon laid in heavy with casks of olives had sunk into the marshy ground and gotten stuck.

Where the sigh, Clion pulled himself back onto the wagon seat, a cold blob of mud slid down his back and he shuddered miserable. All right, Hercules, get us out of here, he said, taking the reins. Hercules blew air through his lips in a tired trill. He pushed his hooves hard into the mud and strained against his harness. The wagon rocked forward, but didn't budge.

Hercules, we need to make the festival come on! The old horse pulled harder, head down and legs shaking with effort. The wagon rocked forward and inch, two inches, and then slid back into the muddy rut of the splash. Hercules, we need defeated. No, we can't be stuck! Cleon cried, burying his head in his hands.

If they didn't make it before the festival, his olives wouldn't sell for nearly as much, and the whole trip would be a waste. Hercules, come on, pull!

He shouted, ah, if only I had the real Hercules here, he'd be able to get us free. Looking for me, set of voice from beside the wagon. Cleon was so surprised, he nearly tumbled back into the mud.

What? Who said that? from thin air appeared in mountain of a man. He was over six feet tall with shoulders brought as a barge. His muscles were hulking and so solid, Clion thought they may have been chiseled from marble by some masters hand. Astonished, he realized this man could only be one

person. Hercules? He said, mouth hanging open. That's right. Hercules said, scooping down to look at the wagons wheels, stuck in the mud. So you need a little help, huh? Clion was surprised, but in those days the Greek gods and demigods often visited normal people, so he wasn't as scared as he might have been otherwise. I was just yelling at my horse, Cleon said,

rubbing his neck in embarrassment. I, uh, I named him Hercules. The real Hercules arched in eyebrow at him. Uh, big fan. Hercules laughed and clapped Cleon on the shoulder. The demigod I meant it as a friendly gesture, but he was so strong and nearly knocked Klyon right off the wagon.