Heracles and the Mares of Diomedes
| Category: | Greek and Roman Mythology |
|---|---|
| Notes: | Greek Mythology |
| Notes: | Heracles's Labor to Capture the Man-Eating Mares of Diomedes |
They say the wind blows colder in Thrace, and that may be true, for that's where Heracles journeyed next. His task? To capture the Mares of Diomedes—not just any horses, mind you, but monstrous beasts that fed on human flesh, wild-eyed and frothing, with hooves that shattered stone and bites that could crush bone. These mares belonged to King Diomedes, son of Ares, god of war himself, and just as cruel.
When Heracles arrived in Thrace, he didn't come with sword swinging or shield raised. No, he came with calm eyes and a plan. He studied the terrain, the stables, and the guards. The king's men kept the mares chained and muzzled, even they feared them. Heracles knew brute strength wouldn't win this time—at least, not alone.
Under the cover of night, he crept into the stable, the ground slick with bones and old blood. The mares growled, snorted, reared against their chains, their eyes glowing in the dark like lanterns from the underworld. Heracles moved quickly, breaking the chains with one powerful wrench. The mares did not bolt. No—they turned to him, hungry.
Suddenly, a thunderous shout rang out. Diomedes had discovered the intrusion. He came charging with guards at his heels, bellowing like a wounded bull. Heracles grabbed a nearby stone trough and flung it, scattering the soldiers. Then he faced Diomedes himself—the two giants clashed, their roars shaking the very hills.
Heracles wrestled Diomedes to the ground and, in a flash of cunning, dragged the warlord toward the mares. What better way to tame a hunger than to feed it? He cast Diomedes to his own beasts. The mares, starved and savage, turned on their master and devoured him in moments. Their eyes dulled, their rage faded, and suddenly they were calm.
Some say they were sated, others say Diomedes's blood, being divine, cursed or cured them—but whatever the case, Heracles led them from the stable like a gentle herd, their heads low and docile.
He brought them back to King Eurystheus, who, upon seeing the blood-muzzled beasts, hid in a bronze jar for three days. Eventually, the mares were released to roam the plains, where they vanished into myth and mist.
And that, friends, is how Heracles tamed the man-eating mares—not with sword or flame, but by turning their master into their meal. A grim tale, yes, but one that shows: sometimes, the monster you feed... is you.