The two friends were walking side-by-side along a narrow hillside track on their way to Corinth. They could hear the sound of a swiftly flowing river as it crashed along the ravine about fifty feet below them.
"C'mon, Herc, it's festival time. We don't want to be late."
"Don't you ever get tired of festivals?"
"What's to get tired of? They're all the same: wine, women and song! Not necessarily in that order." He quickened his pace.
"I wish you wouldn't walk right on the edge like that. I don't want to have to fish you out of the river."
"Worry! Complain! Moan! That's all you've done today. You need cheering up. I'll sing one of your favourite songs." He began to sing as loudly and as tunelessly as possible.
Hercules covered his ears. "Iolaus! That's the last thing I need today."
They were so preoccupied that it was only as they neared a bend that they became aware of the thunder of hooves. A stallion swept around the corner. Hercules flung himself flat against the rocky bank, but there was nowhere for Iolaus to go. He moved as close to the edge as he dared, but there was not enough room. The left shoulder of the racing horse clipped him and he fell. The rider never slackened pace.
Hercules rushed to the edge, his heart beating frantically. "Iolaus! Iolaus! " he shouted. To his relief he could see his friend lying prone on a narrow ledge, only about twenty feet down the steep slope. "Iolaus!" The note of panic in his voice was gone. It could have been far worse.
Yes, he could see his friend moving. He felt his muscles slaken as relief surged through him.
"H-Herc?" The voice was pain-lanced. Hercules tensed again.
"Herc?"
"I'm here, Iolaus. I'm just figuring the best way to get you up. It's very steep so I might need to find something to lower to you to pull you up."
"N-no, you'll have to c-come down."
"Iolaus, it's very steep and I'm likely to send both of us down into the river if I try. Now just lie still and I'll go on and try to find a suitable vine in the forest up ahead."
"Please, Herc, listen to me..." But Hercules had rushed onwards.
Five minutes passed. Ten. Twenty. An eternity.
"Iolaus! I'm back!"
No reply.
"Iolaus! I've got a vine! Iolaus, can you hear me?"
"Herc. " The voice was barely audible. "I'm not going to be able to climb. It's my leg."
"You just hang on and I'll pull."
"I can't! T-there's something gone through my l-leg. It stopped my fall, but I c-can't get off."
The blood drained from Hercules' face. He felt dizzy from the thought of what Iolaus must be suffering. He managed to keep his voice steady and light. "Well why didn't you say so at the start. I'll be right down."
"Right down" was about it, but he could see no way they'd get up again. There was nothing to which he could secure the vine. He wound it around his waist.
He slid and scrambled his way down. Somehow he managed to stop on the ledge alongside his friend. To his horror he could see a sharp spike protruding from Iolaus' leg, just above the right boot. A small tree or bush had been snapped near the ground at some time leaving this jagged piece.
"H-Hi, Herc, you took your time g-getting here."
"Well if you will do these things...I'm sorry. Iolaus, I'm going to have to lift you off and I think it's going to hurt a bit."
"It already does, a little. Just do it quickly."
Steadying himself on his knees, Hercules put one hand under his friend's lower back and one under his knees and lifted. A gasp of agony escaped Iolaus. Hercules hesitated. "Keep going, Herc! Don't stop, please!" Another lift and Iolaus was free. Hercules lowered him. Iolaus turned his head to the side and was violently sick. Hercules held his heaving shoulders and then reached for the sash at Iolaus' side to try to stem the gush of blood.
Hercules considered their situation. There was no way he could climb that slope with Iolaus in his arms. "Iolaus, we're going to have to go down. I'll put the vine around your waist and lower you as far as I can, but there is still going to be a drop. I can't see any other way."
"T-then what are you w-wasting time for? I-I'm ready. Let's get on with it."
"Listen to me. You're going to land in the river. I know you're not much of a swimmer and the current's fast, but just relax and go with it. I'll be straight after you."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Just do it Herc."
Hercules secured the vine around Iolaus. "Ready?" A terse nod of a blond mop of curls was all the reply he got.
He began to lower his friend, wincing as he watched him knocking into the cliff side.
There was still about ten feet to go when the vine was fully played out. "That's it, Iolaus! Signal when you're ready."
A hand wave and he released the vine. As Iolaus plunged down, Hercules began a slithering fall after him. He hit the water and surfaced gasping. For a few panic stricken moments, he gazed wildly around for Iolaus. Failing to see him, he let the current take him.
Further downstream, Iolaus was struggling in the water. He had almost fainted as he hit the water and had swallowed a good deal more than was good for him. His bandage had slipped and he was bleeding freely. Never a strong swimmer, he found it impossible to do more than keep his head above water and even this was not always possible.
Suddenly he crashed into a partially submerged tree trunk. A cry of pain forced itself past his lips, but he managed to grab a branch and hung on.
"Iolaus, hang on! I'm coming!" Rarely had Hercules' voice sounded more welcome or more distant. Everything was black and the world was spinning crazily. He tried to answer, but could only make a choking sound.
Strong hands grasped his shoulders. "Let go now, Iolaus." But he couldn't. His fingers had a death-lock on the branch. "Iolaus, let go!" Then, "Forgive me, my friend," a sudden sharp rap on his jaw and oblivion.
The next thing he knew he was lying on a narrow, shingle beach, with stones jabbing unmercifully into his back and something heavy pushing his chest down. Lips descended onto his and he felt pain as air was forced into his lungs. He raised his arms and tried to push the weight away. He heard a voice, "Thank the gods." Hercules!
Iolaus began to cough, harsh, heart-wrenching coughs. He felt Hercules raising him and turning him onto his side. Water and bile painfully emerged. At last he fell back gasping and Hercules lowered him.
He had never felt so weak or so cold. His whole body shook. He could feel Hercules trying to retie the bandage. "Thank you." His voice was a whisper.
"Iolaus, we're going to have to get moving. We've got to get you somewhere warm."
"I don't think I can..."
"I don't think so either. I'm going to have to carry you and the way you eat you're no light-weight."
However, Iolaus could not even raise a retort. Worried as hell, Hercules scooped him up into his arms.
A nightmare journey followed. At times there were narrow, stony beaches to walk on, but in places Hercules was forced to wade waist-deep in the river. For much of the time, Iolaus was mercifully oblivious, his head flopping on Hercules' shoulder. Nearly two hours had passed before the river emerged from the gorge onto a plain and Hercules was at last able to leave it. Exhausted he sank down in a patch of long grass in the sun.
Iolaus lay beside him, pale and shivering in spite of the heat of the day. The bandage on his leg was soaked with blood. Hercules realised there could be no respite for him. Hoisting his friend into his arms once more, he started off.
Half an hour later, he was relieved to see smoke rising and a few minutes later spied a rather tumbledown hovel. He staggered towards it, placed Iolaus on the ground and knocked.
The door opened and one of the most hideous crones Hercules had ever seen peered out. "What do you want?" she rasped.
"I'm looking for help. My friend, Iolaus, has been injured."
For a moment Hercules thought she was going to close the door in his face, but then she hesitated, her eyes narrowing. She moved forward and looked out at Iolaus. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not running a hotel here You'll have to leave him and go on to the village."
"Is the village near? Perhaps I could take him there rather than bother you."
That raised a cackle. "You won't get better aid than I can give. Anyone will tell you that and, the way he's bleeding, I guess I'm his best chance. Well, are you bringing him in or not?"
The inside of the hovel was even worse than the outside. It was dirty and cluttered. In one corner was a bed that appeared to be covered with rags. "Put him there. Now strip him off. Hurry! The sooner he's out of those wet clothes the better."
This proved more difficult than anticipated as the waterlogged, leather trousers had become skin-tight. Iolaus groaned and moved feebly, but his eyes remained closed.
"Here! Give him a rub-down," she said, tossing yet another rag at Hercules. "He's a pretty boy, isn't he?" The words sounded almost obscene coming from her lips and Hercules felt an involuntary shudder pass through him. "Now I'll have a look at that leg and get a potion brewing, while you go and get in a plentiful supply of firewood. I'll need to build the fire up and keep the room warm."
He hesitated, reluctant to leave Iolaus in a stranger's none to clean hands, but there was no alternative.
He worked as fast as he could, but half an hour had passed before he returned.
He entered the house, to find the air thick with vile-smelling fumes emanating from a large pot on the fire. To his horror, Iolaus' wrists were bound to the bed-head and his ankles, legs splayed, to the bed-end. Seeing his expression, the woman cackled, "He's been a naughty boy. Started thrashing about when I was trying to get some of my medicine into him. Anyhow it made it easier to keep him still while I did my little sewing job on his leg." That at least was well-bandaged, although the dressings were rather grubby.
"Can't you release him now?"
"It wouldn't be in his best interests. I fear his fever's building and if he starts moving around he could start the leg bleeding again. In any case, at my age it's the only way I can keep a man in my bed." She laughed in a horrible wheezing manner at her own joke.
"You'd better be off if you are going to make the village before nightfall. It's about five miles west of here." She opened the door for him.
There was no real choice. "I'll be back tomorrow."
Hercules found the village with no trouble. The inn-keeper was friendly, but looked aghast when Hercules mentioned where he had been. "I wouldn't go near that old witch for all the dinar in Greece. Folks hereabouts try to keep out of her way. She knows about healing true enough, but there's evil in her." However, when pressed, he could not or would not give any evidence to back this statement.
Hercules passed a restless night, but at dawn fell into the deep sleep of the exhausted,
Meanwhile Iolaus' fever mounted. His leg throbbed, but when he tried to move he found his limbs immobilised. A wave of panic swept over him, He tried to pull loose, but the knots only tightened. In desperation he called, "Herc! Herc! Hercules, where are you?" The river swirled through his mind. Where was his friend? Had he survived? If he had, where was he? "Herc, are you all right?" He struggled harder, Someone was raising his head and forcing his mouth open, He could taste the vile, hot fluid scalding his lips. He tried to turn his head away, but was held fast. The fluid was pouring in. He gagged, but the flow continued. At last he was allowed to sag back on the bed.
Tears of weakness gathered in his eyes and two tears squeezed their way from beneath his lids and scoured his cheeks,
The old woman stood back with a smirk of satisfaction, She now knew what she wanted to know. The tall man was Hercules! Normally she would have turned travellers from her door with a curse, but her sixth sense had told her that in this case her interest lay in 'helping'. Now she had the friend of the son of Zeus in her hands. What advantage could she gain from this? One thing was certain, until she had decided, Hercules must be kept away from his friend.
Iolaus had to be moved. A pity really as she did enjoy the sight of a suffering and helpless human, especially a pretty one.
She turned away and began an eerie chant. A few minutes later two repulsive individuals shuffled into the hovel. Heavily muscled and hairy, they looked almost like two apes instead of the men they reputably were. "My sons, I have a task for you. Take the man on the bed to your cavern and keep him there until you hear from me, You will need to keep him tied, but you will also need to keep him warm and give him the medicine I will give to you. He's no good to me dead."
The two approached the bed, One reached out a hairy paw and stroked it down the inside of Iolaus' thigh. His mother slapped his hand away. "None of that! You are to look after him unless instructed otherwise."
They untied his bonds and dressed him. One of the pair flung Iolaus over his shoulder and they shuffled off.
The crone turned back to the fire, threw on some herbs and began to chant to Hera. A few moments later, an imperious voice demanded to know her business.
"Mistress, I have within my power Iolaus, friend of Hercules."
"I have been observing events."
"What is your will? Shall I kill him?"
"If that is to be done I myself will claim the pleasure. However, it is not my immediate intention. Both he and Hercules have caused me trouble and a quick death is not enough. Listen carefully to my instructions. I want you to go outside and dig a patch of ground so that it has the appearance of a fresh grave. When Hercules finally arrives, tell him his friend has died crying for him in his final agony. Have your sons tell Iolaus that Hercules was badly injured in the fall to the river and that he used the last of his strength carrying him to safety. This will evoke pleasing sensations of guilt and despair in both. Tell your sons to find occupation for Iolaus. He is not to be allowed to leave, but Hercules can wander where he will."
"It is an honour to serve you, Hera."
Hercules did not wake until after midday. Cursing himself, he flung his clothes on and raced back to the hovel.
He hammered on the door, "How is he?"
"I'm sorry, I have very bad news for you. Your friend died about three hours ago."
Hercules reeled against the door jamb. "I-I think I'll have to sit down for a moment."
He staggered inside and realised that the bed was empty. "What have you done with his body?"
"My sons came by and helped me bury him. Follow me and I'll show you."
Hercules sank down on his knees beside the fresh grave. His thoughts whirled as he heard her saying, "I'm afraid it wasn't a very nice end. He was in a lot of pain and was crying out for you, but I couldn't leave him to fetch you. I've saved this for you." She shoved Iolaus' amulet into his unresisting hand,
He didn't know how long he knelt there. All he could think of was that when Iolaus needed him most he hadn't been there. His whole being felt cold and numb.
Suddenly he arose and began to walk. He wandered for days, seeing only visions of Iolaus: Iolaus capering on the edge of the path, Iolaus impaled on the tree stump. Iolaus clinging to the tree in the river, Iolaus lying on the river-bank cold and bleeding, Iolaus bound and suffering on the filthy bed and, worst of all, Iolaus crying for him at the last and dying without a friend beside him.
How he made it to his mother's home he never knew. Alcmene and Jason saw him approaching and hurried outside to welcome him, their cries of welcome dying on their lips when they saw his set face and be-draggled condition, He stumbled into his mother's arms and clasped her as tightly as he had done when he was a little boy awakening from a nightmare. Alcmene and Jason led him inside.
"What on earth has happened?" asked Alcmene.
It was some time before he finally managed to tell the story. His voice was flat, completely devoid of emotion, and his face stony. Both Alcmene and Jason shed tears, but he did not. He was empty. Empty...
While Hercules had been wandering through Greece, Iolaus had been lying in a dark cave, tossing in delirium. He was lying in a rough pile of animal pelts, with his wrists shackled to the wall above his head. He was vaguely aware of this at times, but was having trouble distinguishing reality and nightmare. Two large forms were often present. At intervals they seemed intent on drowning him with that same disgusting fluid he'd tasted before. He tried to resist, but it was hopeless. He tried to ask where he was and, more importantly, where Hercules was. This only led to a cuff and a command to shut up.
Somehow he fought his way back to full consciousness, his fears growing as he did so. He felt a nameless dread of his captors. He shrank from them. He was ashamed of his fear, but could not fully contain it.
He had to ask, "What happened to the friend who was with me?"
The first dark form ordered him to shut up, but the second said, "We might as well tell him. Your friend is dead. He hurt himself badly because he hit rocks as he fell into the river. He might have recovered, but carrying you to safety was too much for him. He died soon afterwards."
Iolaus felt his soul splinter. The shards jabbed relentlessly into his heart. Tears poured down his face. He was aware of the mirth this reaction was causing, but he could not stop. Nothing mattered. Hercules was dead. Even worse he'd given his life for that of Iolaus. The exchange wasn't worth it. It never could have been.
As soon as he could walk, he became aware that his captors intended him to remain a personal slave, but it didn't matter. He had no life now. Their ill-treatment of him was all that he could deserve.
Alcmene and Jason were very worried. Hercules was completely listless. He followed instructions. He ate when told to eat and lay on his bed when told it was time to sleep, but when left to his own devices spent his time staring vacantly at Iolaus' amulet,
"This has gone on far too long, Jason. We've got to find some way to reach Hercules. I've had an idea. I've heard him speak of two women, Xena and Gabrielle, who seem to be very close to him and Iolaus and I wonder if their presence would help. There must be some way to contact them."
"It's certainly worth trying. I have met them both and am certain they will be very willing to help Hercules if they can. Actually when I was in the village yesterday I heard a traveller mention seeing them recently. I'll see if I can find out where and seek them out."
Thus it was that a few days later, Xena and Gabrielle entered the house and approached Hercules. Both were trying to be as calm and reassuring as possible. Jason's news had shaken them both. Xena's mind was filled with guilt as she thought of how she had hurt Iolaus in the past, first with her betraying seduction and later by her developing relationship with Hercules. All Gabrielle could think of was the sweetness of the kiss Iolaus had given her after the freeing of Prometheus.
But these thoughts had to be pushed aside as Hercules needed them both.
They embraced him and Gabrielle reached out and took the amulet. She rubbed her fingers across it as she listened to Xena speaking to Hercules. Something was not right. At times Gabrielle had these unusual feelings, intuitive flashes, part of the poetic side of her nature and often vague and formless. A thought came unbidden, Iolaus was not dead. He wasn't! She could not feel his death. Yet he must be. Hercules had obviously seen his body.
But he had not! Xena was encouraging him to tell the story. All he had seen was a grave. A little pulse of hope began to beat inside her, but what could she say. Hercules seemed so sure. How could she say what was swelling her heart? What if she was wrong?
Carefully she began, "Hercules, I know it's a hard thing to ask of you, but Iolaus meant a lot to me and I would like to pray at his grave and to put flowers on it. I also feel we should put the amulet there. It was the only thing Iolaus had of his father's and it was very important to him."
He turned to her. There was a spark of reaction in his eyes, but his voice was lifeless as he said, "You are right. It was wrong of me to take the amulet. I should return it."
Gabrielle was aware that Xena was about to intervene, but imperiously silenced her with, " We'd best get ready for a journey then."
Iolaus was in tears again. To add to their entertainment, the brothers had taken him to the 'grave' and pointed it out as the place where Hercules was buried. "I wish I could have seen him before..."
"No point in gazing on corpses. The worms have him now and Hades I shouldn't wonder. Mother said..."
But Iolaus heard no more. The words "Mother said" rang in his ears. Alcmene! How self-centred he had been. How would she feel if she was left forever in ignorance of her son's fate? Better to know the truth and how could she unless he told her? He didn't know how he could, but he had to do so. She had always been so kind to him. What little he knew of a mother's affection he knew from her.
He felt some purpose in life return. It wasn't going to be easy in his weakened state, but he was going to escape. Somehow...
A cuff recalled him to his senses. "Come on! We've got more to do than stand around here all day. There's plenty of wood for you to gather for us. "
Another hard day lay ahead. He struggled with the work as the brothers sunned themselves and offered encouragement in the form of blows and curses. There was no opportunity to escape. The night offered his best chance.
While gathering the wood, he managed to obtain and conceal a long splinter. That night he palmed the splinter and, in the dim light, the brother who shackled him did not see it. As soon as he was sure both were asleep, he began to work on the lock. A few minutes uncomfortable work and he was free. He moved silently towards the cavern's entrance. He had rarely felt more tense. The two men frightened him more than any others ever had, perhaps because they had seen him more openly vulnerable than any enemy had since his youth. Normally he would have sought revenge for his hurts, but he feared his physical ability to exact it.
At last he was outside. A glance at the stars for direction and he limped off. He headed for the grave first. He wanted to say some words over it. He couldn't just leave Hercules. He knelt in silent prayer.
He didn't hear the stealthy approach of the old woman. A heavy blow from a piece of wood was the first and last he knew of her presence.
He came round, head pounding, to find himself inside the hovel. He was lying on a bed, tied securely. "So you're back with me then. I'll have something to say to those sons of mine when I see them in the morning. I just hope Hera isn't too displeased."
Hera? What had she to do with anything? This was a new concern.
"Mind you, I suspect you've got more to worry about than I do. My boys won't be best pleased with you."
They weren't. Fearing the fury of both Hera and their mother, they crept in first thing the next morning to report their loss and were quick to exact their revenge, a studded leather belt taking a prominent part in this.
They were about to emerge from the house with their bound and semi-conscious prisoner, when their mother motioned them to stop.
They heard voices and, from the window, observed two women and a man. Hercules! The three approached the grave and knelt beside it. One of the women placed something on it.
Gabrielle's mind was racing. She felt more certain than ever that the grave was empty, but how could she broach digging it up. Perhaps if the woman Hercules had spoken of was home she could be trapped into saying something that would help. She walked towards the house.
Seeing her approach, the woman motioned her sons into the part of the room hidden by the door. One clutched Iolaus, a hairy paw over his mouth just in case.
"Good morning. My name is Gabrielle. My friend Xena and I wanted to come to Iolaus' grave to pay our last respects. Hercules tells us you tried to help him and we're very grateful. I wondered if I could come in and talk to you for a few moments."
"I'm sorry, I'm not well today and don't want any visitors,"
"Is there something I can do to help? I have some knowledge of healing."
"Nothing! Nothing! Just go away and leave me in peace," The door started to shut. Gabrielle planted her boot in the way. Meanwhile, Iolaus was stirring. To his astonishment he heard Gabrielle's voice. I must be going to be ill again, he thought. He tried to focus on the voice. It was a slightly raised and there seemed to be a bit of a scuffle going on by the door. He tried to call out, but to no avail. The hand round his face clamped tighter. He bit as hard as he could. A sharp cry of pained surprise. The hand released. "Gabr..." The hand was back. This time his nose was partly covered. He struggled for breath. Blackness was descending. He had to break free. He kicked his heels back as hard as he could.
Suddenly he was falling. He heard Gabrielle's excited "Iolaus!" as he hit the floor. A hand grasped his hair and jerked him upwards. A knife touched his throat. He was being pushed towards the door.
Next he was outside. One brother was holding him and the crone and the other brother were close behind. In front were Gabrielle and HERCULES! He was certain now his illness was back.
The apparition spoke, "Let him go now! I won't give you a second chance."
"If you want your pretty boy with his throat intact, you'll stand back."
Impasse. How could there be impasse with a dead man? An odd whirring sound and he was falling again. His captor's body landed heavily upon him as Xena's chakram returned to her hand.
He felt a hand grasping at his shoulder and then the sun was blotted out as Hercules dived across him. crashing the second man back into the hovel's front wall. In a short, vicious fight, Hercules battered the man unconscious.
Gabrielle moved towards the old woman. She darted back inside, snatched a vial of fluid and swallowed it. Moments later, she twitched her life out on the floor.
Iolaus struggled to get up but, with his hands tied behind him, the man's body was too heavy. Xena stepped forward and, in a straight lift, raised the body and flung it aside as though it was weightless.
Iolaus managed a "thank you" and fainted.
He came around with the sensation of gentle hands bathing his bruised face. Gabrielle? He opened his eyes and looked into those of Hercules. He raised a wondering hand and touched his friend's cheek. "You're alive, but I saw your grave,"
"And I saw yours."
"Well I guess not many friends can both say they've seen each other's grave." It was a weak joke, but it was Iolaus making it. Hercules' eyes smiled with suspicious wetness. Iolaus felt a tear fall onto his face.
"Hey, we can't have you going all dewy-eyed. That's not part of your image, especially when there are ladies present. What you need is a visit to a good festival to cheer you up,"
"OK."
"OK? OK? Herc, are you sure you're all right? Do you mean it?"
"Iolaus, after the last few days, I'll agree to anything. I'll even put up with your singing!"
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