Only when even his own senses could no longer detect Hyllus and the nymphs did Alaric finally feel satisfied and return to the ship's side.
Half a day later, Heracles at last realized that Hyllus was missing.
It was hardly surprising. Hyllus was no helpless infant who needed constant care, his moving about alone wasn't strange at all.
Because of this, by the time Heracles noticed his disappearance, he had already missed the best chance to find him quickly.
To Heracles, his foster son Hyllus was as dear as his own flesh and blood. Naturally, he had to find him no matter what.
Thus, just as fate had once dictated, he bid farewell to his companions and set off alone on the road to search for his foster son.
And so, in the face of this failed divine scheme, what would the gods think?
Would they appear to dissuade the mighty hero?
With that question in mind, Alaric followed behind Heracles once again, observing him from the shadows, and sure enough, he soon witnessed the arrival of a god.
The visitor was Hermes, the divine messenger.
Ever since Alaric had broken his leg in the last war among the pantheons, Hermes had asked the smith god Hephaestus to craft him a prosthetic limb.
Yet even Hephaestus's peerless craftsmanship could not make the artificial leg as agile as the original, and Hermes's legendary speed as the messenger of the gods had inevitably declined.
Now this god, bearing his prosthetic leg, appeared before Heracles to deliver Zeus's decree, an order that he return to the voyage of the Argo.
Unfortunately for him, Heracles rejected the order outright with righteous defiance.
For the sake of finding his foster son, the mighty hero would give no face even to the gods of Olympus.
Alaric watched as the two quarreled bitterly; despite all his persuasion, Hermes failed to change Heracles's resolve.
And what could the gods do in such a situation?
In order not to reveal flaws to the magical pantheon, they dared not act directly unless they had an impeccable reason.
Under such restrictions, it was impossible for them to personally help Heracles retrieve Hyllus just to get him back aboard the Argo.
After all, though Heracles was a demigod, he was not worth risking the exposure of their grand design.
Thus, fate returned to its intended course, and the Argo once again set sail.
Their next ordeal awaited them in the kingdom of Bebrycia.
Its king, Amycus, was the son of Poseidon and the Bithynian nymph Bithynis. Whoever came to his realm was forced to box with him, and all who lost were slain.
When the Argonauts landed, the arrogant king issued his usual challenge, demanding they send forth a champion to face him.
This time, Polydeuces stepped forward, but Alaric did not intervene, for in a duel it would be too easy to notice anything unnatural.
Without Alaric's aid, the overconfident king was no match for the Argonaut hero. After a fierce battle, Polydeuces struck a crushing blow behind Amycus's ear, killing him outright.
Afterward, they sailed to the island of Propontis, whose king, Lycus, had long suffered Amycus's aggression.
He was deeply grateful to the Argonauts for removing his tormentor.
Yet during their stay, while gathering straw, Idmon, the son of Apollo, was gored to death by a wild boar, becoming the third Argonaut to die.
The Argo continued on her voyage, eventually reaching the mouth of the Thermodon River.
This river differed from all others in the world. It sprang from a mountain spring, and after flowing some distance, it divided into ninety-six branches before rushing to the sea.
At the mouth of the widest of these branches lived the Amazons.
This tribe was composed entirely of women, descendants of Harmonia, a nymph who had served both Ares, god of war, and Artemis.
They had no grand castles, only scattered clans that lived in villages.
The Amazons were a fierce and warlike people. In their realm there were no men; every woman was trained from childhood in the arts of battle.
According to their custom, no man was allowed to set foot within their borders.
If this tribe of belligerent women were to encounter the heroes of the Argo, conflict would be inevitable.
In myth, Zeus sent a northwesterly wind at this very moment, blowing the Argo off course, perhaps to prevent a clash, or perhaps because he believed that though the Argonauts were powerful, the Amazon warriors could still cause them grave trouble.
But now, with Alaric present, how could he allow the heroes of the Argo to suffer such a disaster?
Though the Argonauts had heard of the Amazons' existence, they had no idea where these women dwelled.
Before the event could unfold, Alaric discreetly manipulated one of the heroes to accidentally burn most of the ship's sails while rising in the night, minimizing the effect of the divine wind.
Combined with the magical interference Alaric cast on the ship and the heroes' urgent need to repair the sails, the Argo finally docked near the mouth of the Thermodon River.
Since traces of human habitation could be seen along the coast, evidence of the nearby Amazons, the heroes decided to anchor there and barter for cloth to mend their sails.
As usual, after landing, they made camp by the shore, intending to rest and organize before proceeding.
Under Jason's command, some were tasked with pitching tents, others with scouting the area, chopping wood, hunting, or fetching water…
Jason, as always, gave orders but lifted not a finger.
Alaric and Circe remained in camp, while Atalanta eagerly disappeared into the forest to join the hunters.
Everyone thought it was merely an ordinary stopover, but as the campfires burned into the night, a sudden scream echoed from the distance. It was Phalerus, one of the crew.
With cries for help, he stumbled back into camp, his armor askew, his helmet cracked, and an arrow lodged in his back, clear signs that he had just been in battle.
"Phalerus, who attacked you?" Jason immediately stood, concern on his face, while Asclepius stepped forward to tend his wounds.
"It was a group of women!" Phalerus gasped.
"Fierce warriors, they bore shields marked with the crescent moon, wielding spears, bows, and battle-axes!
They ambushed me and Periclymenus while we were hunting a wild boar. I was shot, and Periclymenus… he was killed on the spot!"
"What!"
"They dared kill one of our comrades?"
"Those women have some nerve, we'll avenge Periclymenus!"
The death of a companion ignited their fury. One by one, the heroes shouted their vows to make the warrior women pay.
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