Hercules Read Online Free PDF Page B

snapped about his legs like mad dogs. They couldn’t bite through his lion-hide trousers, but held on, trying to drag him down. And now, instead of two neck stumps, there were four, and each stump grew a new head. The four heads struck at him with sickening force. Four pairs of jaws clamped onto his body. The teeth couldn’t pierce the pelt, but they closed with crushing power. He felt his bones must break. Jaws held his arms; he couldn’t raise his sword. He tore himself away and tried to run clear, but the cut-off heads were fastened to his legs. They dragged him down.
    He forced himself up. His sword whirled in a blur about his head. One after the other, he cut the four heads off. Now these heads fell and joined the pack of heads ravening about. Where the four heads had been, there were now eight heads. They came at him from everywhere now, clamping him from all directions. His arms and legs were locked by jaws. Three pair of jaws held his waist, jaws were locking on his head, blinding him. Inside the lion-hide helmet, he felt his skull being squeezed to a pulp. Calling on his last strength, he whirled and kicked and chopped and stabbed. He tore himself free and tried to run. But all the heads were fastened on his legs now; they pulled him down as a pack of hounds pulls down a deer.
    Lying on the ground, he saw a pair of jaws striking down toward his face. Before he could stop himself, he slashed with his sword, slicing off that head—and knew it was the worst thing he could have done. For now two heads would grow, and he knew he couldn’t handle any more.
    The pain was too much now; he felt himself going. And just then he saw Iole flash past him, carrying a torch.
    “Stop!” he shouted.
    But she ran straight toward the Hydra and slashed at it with her fiery torch, searing the neck stump, then seemed to melt into air, she moved so quickly, dodging away. Hercules smelled the stench of burning flesh. The Hydra flopped gigantically; it was in agony. Its mouths were shrieking. Through his fog, Hercules saw that the burned flesh of the stump was not sprouting any new head.
    He saw Iole scoop up the torch and run toward him. She whirled the torch, beating back the pack of cut-off heads. She whipped them with flame, beating them away from his legs. Hercules staggered to his feet.
    “Cut off the heads!” cried Iole. “I’ll burn the stumps!”
    But Iole was clad only in a thin tunic. Hercules realized that one scratch of a poison tooth would kill her on the spot. He snatched the torch from her, with his left hand seized her by the waist, swung her off the ground, and hurled her into the river. Then he picked up his sword and crouched, waiting for the Hydra to come at him again.
    In one hand he held the torch, in his other hand, the sword. And strength had returned. The thought of the child risking her life that way drove out all fear, all weakness. The fire of the torch seemed to be burning cleanly in his veins.
    The Hydra was upon him. He moved swiftly, dodging, striking, twisting away from the jaws, slashing again. Each sword blow cut off a head. And, as soon as he struck with his sword, he struck with his torch, searing the neck stump, burning the flesh so that no new head could grow.
    He was very weary now. He could hardly move. But the monster still had two heads left. Hercules did not wait for the Hydra to attack. Forcing his legs to move, he charged. He whirled his sword, cutting off the last two heads, then struck with his torch, searing the last two stumps.
    Now the Hydra was blind. The great leather body was twitching. The spiked tail was flailing. The neck stalks were wriggling like charred worms, but life was going out of the monster. The tail flopped weakly, like a grounded fish. The neck stalks went limp. Then all movement stopped. And when the body died, the heads on the grass died also.
    Hercules lifted the heavy helmet from his head, drinking the air. He cast off the tunic and slid out of the heavy