There are many tales of my travels I would impart on the page, but alas I near Athens and my tales must be written in more formal form there. I admit to a certain hesitancy at meeting my father. He is a great man who rules far and wide. How shall I be received by him? I have cared for his sword and sandals and have cleared the the roads to Athens of those that divide the land. I am his man now yet I hope he shall be proud to call me son. But I dwell, and the sun lowers on the horizon. I must recount of Kerkyon as I traveled from Megara to Eleusis.
I heard him before I saw him, so blustering and arrogant a man he was. His booming voice was heard as he bragged of his strength as a determination of his right to rule the land. To say nothing of being a leader, only a tyrant understands it takes more than strength to lay claim to the land. Intelligence and diplomacy as well must rule a leader's heart. And it was with those tools that he was bested. Not his strength. I heard his voice as I paced up the dry road to Athens. I could not see the path beyond the hill I climbed, but he took no care to lay siege to me, but yelled from where he waited, "There is a traveler I hear upon my road. Your steps are firm and heavy, so you must be a man of impressive stature and confidence. Come and test your strength, be you man enough to try. Come!" But I am not so young I rush into battle. My courage comes from perseverance and I continued at my pace and leisure then finally came upon him.
Although a man, he looked like a monster. His facial features were decidedly serpentine in nature, long face with a flat nose and a head elongated as a newly-born babe. But all this would not have phased me. It was the tail that jutted out from behind him. My stomach turned to see the limp appendage swinging to and fro behind him. I made small order of this monstrosity for Kerkyon is a man who kills with his hands and I have said true skill requires more than strength. As he grabbed for me, I twisted to catch his torso and hoisted him above my head. Twisting, I spun him by his legs, a skill great Herakles imparted to me as he visited my grandfather in my youth. With a large thrust, he flew into the air and I listened to him scream in disgust. I am not so powerful, yet the manner to my throw cast him up then down in such fashion that he landed with a crash.
The sound grated at my ears. He did not move and, from the position of his body, I saw he was dead. I approached, and knelt to touch him and found the bones in his face crushed. Such are those who would divide Athens, punished. It is time to sleep. I shall write the last entry of my journey when my feet pass Hermes marker at Athens.
