Hera’s Quarrel

by Christina

Even Hera wasn’t mad at Hermes, except for once, when he had killed Hera’s hundred-eyed guard, Argos. Hera was taking a stroll through the main temple when she stopped to admire a painting of Zeus. She had been here many times, and knew here was where she had Argos protect the pretty white cow, that she knew was actually Io, one of Zeus’s mortal wives. Hera expected to hear Argos’s greeting, but it didn’t happen. There, underneath the painting, was Hermes. And slumped beside him was Argos, all hundred of his eyes closed. Hera knew in an instant Argos was dead, and saw Hermes had his back to her. She felt anger rise up, and before she could stop, she punched his shoulder blades and shouted, “Hermes!”

Hermes flew up in panic, and his winged sandals fluttered as he hovered in front of the painting.
Hera grabbed a torch and threw it at Hermes.

He swiftly avoided it, rubbing his tender shoulder blades. The torch burned away the marble, and one of the painting’s eyeballs. It showed the dining room, with Athena shoveling apricots and olives into her mouth.

‘Hey, cut that out!” gasped Hermes.

Hera snatched a new torch and threw it at Hermes, who avoided it and flew to a tree. The fire ate at the painting’s ear, piercing a hole into Aphrodite’s dressing room. Aphrodite stood there, putting on a red lip balm.

“Argos was bored,” protested Hermes. “So I decided to put him out of his misery. I thought to bore him more would work, and it did. He was bored to death.”

“You bored him to death!” roared Hera. “You little jerk!” She sent another torch at Hermes, but he dissolved it with water from the cow trough.

Hermes said, “Well, of course, Hera. I didn’t want Argos to think I was going to kill him.”
Hera was so full of fury that she leaped for Hermes.

With a flick of his wrist, Hermes grabbed a rope and bound Hera up so tight she could hardly move. She was wrapped from head to toe, like a mummy, or a fly wrapped in threads.
Hera gave a muffled gasp, because she realized that she had bound the cow with this exact rope! Hera struggled, but all she was rewarded with was her face freed, because Hermes had it loose for her to breathe. Hera looked up and scowled at Hermes, then said, “Okay, forget about Argos. What about the cow?”

Hermes stared at Hera with a strange look. “I didn’t do anything with the cow,” he said.
Hera’s fury bubbled up again. “HERMES!” Hera’s shout was so loud, Athena nearly choked on an olive pit, and Aphrodite’s lip balm slipped through her hands and fell on the floor, leaving a large, red stain on the marble tile.

Hermes fell from the branch he was sitting on and tumbled on to Argo’s dead body. He flew back up and perched on Hera’s head. “What, Hera? Two of my siblings ask me to get rid of Argus. I do it because I don’t like Argus. Not one bit. Even you,” said Hermes, leaping off her head, “don’t like Argus that much.”

Hera wobbled and fell, breaking the rope and falling on Argus. As if to prove Hermes’s point, Hera scrambled off Argus with a look of disgust, and unwound the rest of the bonds. Then she looked up at Hermes, who was hovering over her. “So?” she said challengingly.

Hermes landed on the ground and gave her a look of complete confusion. Finally, after many seconds, he said, “So what?”

Hera paced back and forth in front of him. “Why didn’t you let Argos guard the cow?”

Hera did not notice that Athena and Aphrodite were peering through the holes, listening to every word. However, Hermes noticed but decided to show no sign of it and to choose his words carefully. He advanced slowly towards Hera.

Hera became frightened and with every step Hermes took forward, she took two steps backward. No god had ever challenged her like this before, except for Zeus. After all, she was the queen of Mount Olympia, the one queen chosen out of all other of Zeus’s wives, the second most powerful god and the most powerful goddess.

But while Hera thought these things, Hermes was growing angrier by the second. He finally spoke. “What’s so special about a cow? I have many cows. I have Apollo’s whole herd, and their offspring, and their offspring’s offspring, and even more offspring still! And does even one of them seem special? Do I single one milky white cow from all other white cows? Then do I tie the cow up to a tree and have a guardian that I order to watch her day and night, day and night, day and night? Then do I take my entire wrath on a god sitting where the guardian was?” He advanced with so much force Hera lost her footing and landed in a pile of cow dung.

Hera spat in disgust and gasped as she feverishly tried to clean the huge brown stain on the back of her white robe. But then she heard a loud, thundering voice.

“Hera!”

It was the voice of Zeus. Hermes watched as Hera stalked out of the room, but before turning to go into the hall, she turned around and hissed, “You did an impressive show, jerk. Just save your pretty words for the judge’s hammer!”

And with that short speech, Hera was gone.

Athena and Aphrodite climbed out of the holes to cluster around Hermes.

“You will think of some good words, right?” said Aphrodite.

“After all,” added Athena, “you are the god of all those who use their wits.”

Hermes smiled at Athena. “And you are the god of wisdom and war with real meaning.”

Both of the gods smiled at him. “You will be sure to see our rocks at your feet,” they said in unison. And just as Hera had disappeared, the two goddesses were gone.