Enter the living world of Greek myth. Join Jason, Acastus, Hercules and the rest of the crew of Argo on their epic quest for the Golden Fleece. It is a world of gods and monsters, a world where prophecies and curses come true, a world haunted by demons and populated by epic heroes. And it is a world where male love was accepted, celebrated and even revered.
Jason’s native city Iolcus is under a curse. The king is tormented, people are abandoning the haunted city and it is slowly dying. The only hope appears to be retrieving the Golden Fleece, which was lost to Iolcus generations earlier. Jason and his cousin Acastus take on the daunting task of assembling a company of athlete/heroes to recover the Fleece from Colchis, the legendary land at the end of the world. Along the way they find adventure, danger—and love. The Loves of the Argonauts, based on the original Greek myths in their various versions, vividly recreates that world and the Argo’s storied journey on a truly epic scale.
Our dynasty was founded a hundred years before I was born by King Athamas, the younger son of the king of Corinth. What became of the previous ruler is not recorded; the official story is that Athamas took the throne peacefully. But the final kings of old dynasties tend not to have happy fates. When I was older I tried to find some record of what had happened; but our family had been much too efficient in hiding the truth, whatever it might have been.
At the height of the coronation festivities in the main square of the city a ram miraculously appeared, the largest ram anyone could remember seeing, the size of a young bull. And its fleece was the color of gold. But the blessing of Zeus turned into a curse, and the reign of Athamas was not happy. The voice of the god whispered to him, “Your children must die.” The god’s word had been clear enough. His children, the king decided, would have to die for the god of the city and the continuance of the royal house…
When I was born, my mother dedicated me in the temple of the Muses. But I was enough of a political creature to recognize the official story about the miraculous Golden Ram as propaganda. But I never quite understood why my ancestors had infused the official myth with the taint of child-killing. Even if it was horribly true, why blot the city and the children of the family by dwelling on it?
