Return to Chapter Two
The next day, when she bought the two men breakfast, Photina noticed that her new guest was worried. His slave friend was obviously getting better, so that couldn't be the reason. Later, as she sat at her morning meditations, she wondered if she could help.
The poor man must have thought her a brute when he had first arrived, but how could he have known about her other visitors and their pathetic cargoes? She had run slavers off with a broom before. She hated and despised the whole situation with a totality that astounded her and left her little outlet but running them off.
And this man, Hercules and his obvious kindness and devotion for his poor friend had eased some raw hurt she hadn't even known was there. He made her realize that her puny stand against Vatrahos was not enough. Not for the first time, she considered moving away, but her grandfather had built the bathhouse around the spring and all her friends and family were here.
Maybe the letters everyone was sending would help. She smiled. Hercules was different than she had expected. She still hadn't witnessed the legendary strength but his kindness and practicality was inspiring. His idea about writing the letters was something they should have come up with long ago, and had galvanized all her friends on this side of the bridge into outraged action.
Just then, the subject of her meditations came into the tiny atrium where she was musing.
"Hello", she said brightly, pleased to see him.
"Hello," was his subdued but polite response.
"Is Iolaus worse?" she asked, concerned.
"No" he smiled briefly, "Your little spring is a blessing from the Gods. No, it just that Iolaus is afraid of me and I can't convince him that I'm his friend, not his master." He ran a hand through already rumpled hair and practically transfixed Photina with steely worried eyes.
"I can't help Iolaus by myself", he said, in a tight voice, "He doesn't believe he's free. I think he'd be relieved if I beat him!" The sick and miserable look on the demigod's face made Photina's heart give a pang.
"I want to send word to some friends." the big man continued, "He won't remember them, but right now I need their insight and well, just the company. I'm beginning to feel like a monster and I'd like someone around who knows me."
Photina smiled. She could help here. "I have a friend who can carry a scroll for you. He's going to visit relatives for a wedding and he has a horse, so he'll get there faster. He's going to take letters for all of us about the eels. I spent the night visiting friends and I have about ten letters all ready to go to different towns and villages."
"And, she said, standing up, "I also have extra parchment and writing materials. Wait and I'll get them for you."
Thus it was Hercules found himself writing a letter to the someone he had in mind. Someone he wanted to see so he could be shadowed in intense blue eyes, eyes that beheld truth clearly and without fear.
"Dear Xena", he wrote,
"Iolaus is alive but hurt in body and in mind. If at all possible, please come and bring Gabrielle. I need you both."
"I am in a small town called Kandili, upriver from Baklavapolis, the capital city of the Kingdom of Myopia."
"Iolaus has lost his memory completely. He was sold as a galley slave and tortured. This area is riddled with Hera's minions and a really nasty bunch of slavers. Something's going on and I can't find out what and help Iolaus at the same time. Will you come? HELP, HELP! HELP!!" (Xena will love that, he thought, making the letters larger with each word), and signed his name, Hercules.
He felt better once he saw the little scroll and another one to his mother and Jason in Corinth headed south with Photina's friend, who promised to deliver it quickly to the next town.
Gabrielle ran into their camp from her visit to town for supplies. There was such a look of pain on her face that Xena leapt to her feet and pulled her chakram, ready.
"What's wrong?" she barked, looking behind the girl and surveying the woods, while the blood surged through her, readying her for action.
Gabrielle's eyes were filled with tears. She stumbled to Xena and began to cry.
"Oh, Xena, while we were gone so long, terrible things happened. I found it out in town at the trader's when I was looking for supplies."
"Oh," said Xena mildly, putting the chakram away and willing her heart to stop pounding. "Were people hurt?"
"Hercules and Iolaus" Gabrielle said and then began crying in earnest - leave it to Gabrielle though, nothing, even grief could render her speechless and through her weeping she was still able to talk.
"A horrible God of Madness afflicted Hercules with complete insanity. Hercules didn't recognize anyone anymore and he almost destroyed a whole mountain," herein she paused and gave a despairing hiccup, "and then the God said he'd only free Hercules if someone offered themselves as a human sacrifice and Iolaus, Iolaus . . . "
Xena's eyes widened, "Iolaus is dead?" she asked.
"Yes," cried Gabrielle, "Oh, Xena, its so horrible. Iolaus was so nice and no one knows where Hercules is, and I guess the sacrifice was to be eaten alive by a monster and Iolaus died all alone."
Xena's heart sank with worry while she held her weeping friend. Iolaus dead. It was hard to believe the jocular fighter who laughed so easily and was such a true friend was gone. And of all the wrongs she had done in her old life, the trick she'd played on Iolaus to get to Hercules had been one of which she was most ashamed. And then, in the end, he had forgiven her. Even though she saved his life in battle later, she had never really made up for the betrayal of a trusting heart. And now that heart was stilled forever.
Hercules must be devastated.
She looked at her sobbing friend, What would I do if I lost Gabrielle, she thought, this irritating, chatty dreamer who's dearer to me than my own flesh and blood.
And Xena found herself clutching Gabrielle tightly, while she mourned for Iolaus, to whom she owed so much, including friendship. And she wondered too what she could do for Hercules.
They scouted around further for news that day and learned in a seedy inn that Hercules had been spotted in slaver country, up north along the coast. And the two women were of one mind about what direction to head in.
The next morning, Gabrielle, eyes still red from last night's tears, was as anxious to go as Xena. Once, while they were making preparations she paused and looked back at her friend, "Do you think he'll want to see us?" she asked uncertainly.
"Yes," was Xena's firm reply, "he's lost his best friend and he'll need as many people who care about him as possible to be there to help him through this." She looked at Gabrielle. What she didn't say, was that if she'd lost Gabrielle, she knew that Hercules would come to be there for her.
Poor Iolaus, to die alone at the hands of a monster. That was the kind of end Xena expected for herself, that or battle. She knew that Iolaus had died bravely. It was really a heroic and tragic tale, like one of the legends.
"Gabrielle," she said, "Why don't you write a poem for Iolaus. He'd like that."
"A poem?" Gabrielle asked as though the little bard didn't know what such a thing was and her swollen eyes took on an abstracted look.
Xena smiled a little. Her suggestion would help channel Gabrielle's very real grief for a friend in a constructive way.
The trip was eventful. The closer to the northeast shore, the worse the slavers got. They had many unpleasant encounters, stopping once to help a small village free several people from raiders. They left a trail of bruised and battered slavers everywhere they went.
They were on the last week of their journey, which Xena had estimated would take almost a whole month, and were walking through a particularly nice stretch of forest. The birds were singing enthusiastically, as though they knew they had an appreciative audience, and the smell of wildflowers filled the air.
By this time Gabrielle had written several poems for Iolaus and Hercules as well. Xena had frankly been surprised at their beauty and simplicity. They had talked about the two men a lot along the way, sharing memories of the short fighter. The worst wash of grief had subsided, to be replaced by the slow sad grief that only dies when memory itself is gone at last.
They were silently making their way down the trail, enjoying the bird son, when Xena heard a voice in the distance. A man's voice, singing jauntily.
"Oh, no," said Xena softly and Gabrielle's head swung up. The voice continued, and she obviously heard it too. It was coming closer.
Gabrielle looked over at Xena, "Should we hide?" she asked pathetically.
"No," said Xena, "it wouldn't be fair and you know he always finds us anyway - we might as well get it over with."
The song was understandable now.
"Joxer the mighty, he roams through the countryside, he doesn't need a place to hide . . ."
"Am I mistaken or is he getting worse?" asked Gabrielle, squinching up her nose thoughtfully.
"No," said Xena, "it’s just always a shock when he's been gone awhile."
The bushes before them parted and a familiar ridiculous figure in elongated and impractical armor, still singing lustily, walked into sight.
"Oh, he's Joxer the mighty . . ." he sang and stopped.
A look a delight brightened his pale skinny features. "Xena," he cried, "Gabby, what a surprise."
"Hello, Joxer." said Xena flatly to be echoed by Gabrielle.
"I've been looking for you," he said, "I've got a letter for you from a village called Kandili, north of here near the coast. I think it’s from Hercules."
"Hercules?!" Xena exploded and jumped off Argo quickly, "Is he all right?" she asked anxiously while Gabrielle chorused, "We heard about him and poor Iolaus".
Joxer gave her a puzzled look. "I don't know," he said, shifting back his helmet so he could scratch his forehead, "I couldn't read the letter, of course, its someone else's mail and I didn't hear anything about either of them. What happened?"
Gabrielle got a long look on her face and Xena interrupted, "First let's make camp, Joxer, then we'll read the letter and everyone can bring everyone else up to date."
You couldn't fault Joxer for trying. He only tripped over a log once and whipped himself in the face with several branches while helping find fuel for the fire.
When supper was finally cooking over a merry little fire, Xena gave the letter to Gabrielle to read aloud.
The girl was solemn as she took the papyrus scroll in hand. She opened her mouth to start reciting the letter's contents, and sat up very straight in a bard's stance.
"Dear Xena," she read and gave a whoop that made Joxer fall over backwards with a loud thunk and then scramble to retrieve his fallen helmet.
"Iolaus is alive!" Gabrielle shrieked and leapt into the air joyously, kissing first Xena and then an embarrassed but visibly pleased Joxer.
Xena smiled and took the scroll from her bard friend. "This is better news than I could ever hope for." she said, "I think I'll finish the letter. I don't want you startling Joxer too much. He'll knock over supper."
The rest of the letter left them all solemn, but still happy.
"But he's alive, that's the important thing." said Gabrielle finally, "Where there's life, there's hope."
She stopped, "You know, that's good. I'd better write it down," and she rushed to find her scrolls.
The next day they parted ways amiably with Joxer who had decided to take the other letter to Hercules' mother and stepfather, Jason, in Corinth.
Now that the two women knew their exact destination, they planned the remainder of the trip accordingly, using the information they had exchanged with Joxer about the state of the road.
The temple of Hera began to experience some very strange troubles. Slaves were part of the pattern of life in the temple. The priests sometimes did menial work, but slaves were always there to till the fields and tend the vineyards. Their lives and deaths were a fitting sacrifice to the queen of the Gods and the priests’ latest financial trend, that of selling the infirm and elderly slaves off to Vatrahos was bringing in extra income to the temple. While wealth was meaningless to the queen of the Gods, power was not and money could always be used in the interests of Hera's prestige.
The High Priest of Hera's temples in Myopia, Bartholomew, sat at his desk in his elegantly appointed chambers. Besides him, a lovely blonde-haired slave girl was fanning him carefully. She was one of the newer purchases and he had decided to break the little vixen in by himself.
He frowned as he read the reports spread before him. He had begun to get some disturbing reports about the slaves. Some of the older slaves had been sent, as usual, to Vatrahos' estate with an escort of several under-priests.
The young men had returned excitedly, claiming that someone had put a magic spell on them that made them all pass out. When they woke, the slaves were gone. There was much consultation on the subject. Some of his fellow clerics were sure it was a sign from Hera, but Bartholomew suspected the rabble in the village was trying to interfere and that the clerics were lying about an attack to stave off punishment.
A promised shipment of slaves from a mine further south that had been reopened to provide jewels for Hera had never arrived. Word had come that the slaves had all disappeared. This was particularly distressing, since the mine was actually the property of King Vlakas. Bartholomew pondered carefully, wondering if there was a possibility that Vlakas was taking an interest in the area. Perhaps they had been a bit too eager to put forward the Goddess' interests.
He sat up abruptly, and noticed that the girl flinched, but steadily continued to fan. He smiled to himself. Her training was coming along delightfully. No, the rabble contingent in the village were going to discover that refusing to tithe to Hera was a deadly mistake. Vatrahos' plans for the kingdom would start with the villagers who refused to support the temple. They would be the first in a series of victories that would make Vatrahos king and enhance the prestige and glory of Hera and, of course, himself as her most ambitious and hard working High Priest.
"Hello," said Hercules to the big man standing before him.
"Hello, Hercules. My name's Hippocrates, but my friends call me Hippo."
Hercules smiled. Photina's in-law was the village baker and appeared to be a friendly, good-hearted fellow. He isn't quite as big as a hippo, but mighty close, Hercules concluded. He shook Hippo's meaty hand, "I'm glad to meet you and glad for your help." he said and drew aside the foliage to reveal the group of newly liberated slaves he'd just stolen out from under Hera's nose.
They eyed Hippo fearfully and the man won Herc's approval by revealing a big basket of various breads and cheese.
"I know we've got to get them to safety quickly," Hippo explained, "but I always travel easier on a full stomach and I thought they would as well."
The slaves obviously agreed and rewarded Hippo with friendly smiles as he distributed provisions. They made short work of the meal while Hercules found himself thinking of how thin Iolaus had been that awful day in the slave market.
Photina and her fellow abolitionists had enthusiastically taken up his idea of stealing the slaves before they got to the estate. So while Photina was in the village watching over the still convalescing Iolaus, he and Hippo escorted their ill-gotten gains to another village to the south. There, friends of Photina's group would meet them and take the slaves to safety.
He smiled to himself, as they helped the slaves make their way on the forest trail, pleased to get started on doing something about Vatrahos. He still hadn't time to scope out the huge estate of the rich man, but as soon as Xena arrived, he would. There was something going on besides selling smoked eel that had been fattened on slaves, although that was certainly evil enough. Something here smelled of Hera and plots for power and he would take special pride in breaking this one up for Iolaus' sake.
Their little letter writing campaign had gotten started with a bang as well. This morning Photina had brought him news: a party of enraged townsmen had met the latest shipment of smoked eel at its destination. They had doused the wagon and its shipment with oil and set fire to it, burning it to the ground. That would mean fewer coins for Vatrahos to use. Of course, the man was rich, and could use his own funds to purchase slaves, but maybe now that his market base was disappearing, he'd find something else to do. Hercules could only hope.
When he returned late that evening, Iolaus was much better and waiting up in bed for him. Since the night that Iolaus had told him he couldn't be set free, Hercules had decided not to talk about it anymore. It obviously tormented Iolaus and wasn't doing either of them any good.
So he was just as careful as Iolaus was. It was like sneaking through a dragon's lair - you had to watch your step.
"Hi," he said, glad to see more color on Iolaus face and maybe even a little weight gain. "You're looking a lot better."
"I feel really good, Master," said Iolaus in a neutral tone, not quite looking him in the eye, "I can probably start whatever duties you have for me right away."
"Look, Iolaus," said Hercules, truly irritated; "I don't have any duties for you, except to get better." Then he thought of something, "There is one thing you can do for me, though,"
Iolaus looked almost nervous, but sat up attentively, "Yes, whatever you want." he said.
"Please, stop calling me master. You're driving me nuts. Call me Hercules."
Iolaus gave him an almost glazed look of incomprehension. "Yes, Mast . . . I mean Hercules, whatever you say."
Iolaus knew he was failing miserably in pleasing his new master. Hercules was kind, but he could tell he was irritating the dickens out of the man, he just didn't know why. He still insisted that Iolaus was his good friend and buddy, and Iolaus began to fear the day when the big guy realized he wasn't. No matter what he did or said, Hercules would look embarrassed or disgusted. He was having trouble just calling him Hercules, too. He'd been kicked around so much for not calling anyone without chains a master, that it was an actual physical effort to say Hercules.
And Hercules was crazy.
"Master?" he had asked the big man once when he was taking another required soak in the healing spring. "Do you have family living anywhere?"
Hercules looked up from where he too was soaking in the bubbling waters. "Well, my mother, Alcmene, is married to Jason, the ex-king of Corinth. I visit as often as I can."
"I'm sorry," said Iolaus sympathetically, "So your father has passed away?"
Hercules gave him a quizzical glance, "You really don't remember anything at all, do you?" he said, "My father is Zeus, the King of the Gods."
Iolaus contemplated this. Okay, so his new master was nuts, but he was still a pretty decent guy. "So that means you're a demigod, right?" he asked carefully now.
"Right," Hercules answered simply. Then he gave Iolaus a look. "You don't believe me, do you?" he asked, sounding indignant.
"Of course I do." replied Iolaus, deciding to humor his master, "You're the son of Zeus. What's hard to believe about that?"
His master sighed.
He was crazy, but he was nice crazy. It was at least better than the mines, reflected Iolaus. He could see a strange future, following the big guy around trying to keep him from getting beaten up. Or killed. Or even punished by the Gods for such wanton impudence. Son of Zeus, my eye, he thought. I bet he got dropped on his head when he was a baby.
The tavern interior was dark and stank of stale beer and fish that had seen better days. Someone in the back was playing a lyre in a halfhearted fashion and Brontus the bouncer surveyed the man before him.
He smiled at the coins the wealthy physician Aristocles put in his hand. They were heavy with gold. He liked that.
"What was it you wanted me to do?" he asked again.
The physician smiled at him toothily, "I want you to round up three or four other fellows who share your profession. I need your help to teach someone a lesson in manners. He insulted me and broke the door to my home. He's been seen in the village, hanging out at that tawdry little bathhouse. When he goes to market, I want you to make his acquaintance in a way that he'll never forget."
Brontus grinned, "You came to the right place. My associates and I specialize in just this sort of educational experience."
Photina was supervising Iolaus' care with the eye of a natural healer. "He's not getting well as fast as he should. I'd like him to soak in an herb bath. Could you go to the market and buy me a big basket of fresh thyme?"
Since he was chomping at the bit to get out of the house, Hercules welcomed the idea. Iolaus was still driving him crazy, and he was worried about the slave situation. A little trip to the market would do him good, as long as he was careful not to draw attention to himself.
He left immediately and found himself enjoying the color and sounds of a typical village market. When he was almost to the booth where he could literally smell the herbs Photina wanted, a beggar appeared. He was a huge bear-like man, and smelly.
"Please, good Sir," said the extra-large beggar, "Could you spare some coins for an injured man?" The man's head was bandaged as if he'd been in an accident.
"Sure," said Hercules absently, reaching for the coins he kept at his belt. He didn't see the three other troglodytes sneaking up behind him.
Hercules was caught off guard as the "beggar" suddenly lashed out with a powerful right uppercut to his solar plexus. The pain burned like the fires of Tartarus and Hercules felt all the air go out of his lungs. He started to buckle over, but his attacker instantly followed up with a left forearm to his throat, which jerked Hercules back upright. Gagging from the blow, he heard his attacker saying, "Nighty night, tough guy!"
Next came searing pain from a vicious kick to his groin. Instinctively, he doubled over. Lights exploded inside his head as he felt a fist smash into the rear of his skull. The ground seemed to leap up to meet him.
Photina suddenly burst into the bathing area. "Where's my broom?" she shouted at a surprised Iolaus, who had just dressed. "There are four thugs out there beating up on Hercules!" she cried, and grabbed the broom and ran out the door, slamming it with a bang that brought him to his feet.
Terrified, Iolaus ran after her. I'll bet he bragged he was a demigod to someone and is getting his fanny knocked up around his head! He thought anxiously.
Photina ran like a deer, and Iolaus, still not entirely well, panted as he labored to keep up.
Hercules was on the ground in the middle of the market place with four huge men flailing away at him, kicking, punching, and elbowing with all their might.
Awestruck, Iolaus watched as Hercules rose easily from the ground with all four men still hanging off of him and stood erect like a statue of Atlas holding up the world. Next to Iolaus, Photina was yelling "Cowards" at the assailants, and waiting for an opening to use the broom she was waving around. While she almost hit Iolaus a few times, she never got a chance to use it.
Suddenly, with a roar, Hercules flung all four men off of him simultaneously, their bodies’ flying head over heels in the air. Each one landed with a heavy thud.
"Let's try that again, boys," he said, "now that I've got my wind back." Hercules caught sight of Iolaus out of the corner of his eye and gave him a broad grin. "Pay attention, Iolaus." he said, "Some of this just might jog your memory."
The first thug to recover from his fall leapt to his feet and made a mad dash at Hercules, who simply side stepped the man and tripped him, sending him sprawling face down. Immediately a second assailant was directly in front of him, throwing a nasty right hook, which Hercules blocked with ease. Then he playfully thumped the man on the forehead with the heel of his right hand, sending the thug flying onto his backside.
Iolaus could see that Hercules was obviously enjoying himself and was making no serious attempt to injure his attackers. Suddenly the largest of the men lunged toward Hercules' left side. Hercules responded by planting his left foot firmly into the creep's sizable belly and sending him hurtling backwards to sprawl in the dirt.
The next attacker jumped onto Hercules' back and began pounding away industriously on the top of the big guy's head. Hercules casually reached up and pulled the struggling assailant off his back and over his head. Then, clutching the man by his right ankle, he began to swing him around his head like a human club. Grinning again he turned to Iolaus - "Is any of this coming back to you yet?"
"Not really, Master," called a dumbfounded Iolaus while he thought, He really is a demigod! A crowd was beginning to gather.
Now Hercules, still spinning the shrieking thug, called to the rest of the gang, "Come and get it, boys!" Then he let the man go in time to send him crashing into the side of a wagon.
Hercules must have realized his attackers were beginning to lose interest. "Jeez, you guys, do your mothers know you act like this?" Iolaus heard him jeer good-naturedly. He watched spellbound as the demigod was rewarded with a fresh attack. All four men began to circle Hercules like a game of musical chairs. The biggest one yelled, "Now!" and they all leapt at him at once. Hercules jumped straight up over six feet in the air and the four assailants cracked heads. In an instant, Hercules came crashing back down on them, driving them onto the ground in a heap.
Hercules stood up leisurely from off the pile of groaning bodies and asked them, "Is that the best you can do?"
Iolaus hoped that they had given up, but the four men began to rise unsteadily to their feet once more. They must be gluttons for punishment, he thought. Just as they halfheartedly began to move towards Hercules once more, Iolaus heard a throaty female voice say, "Leave a few for me, Hercules!"
Iolaus turned and saw two women and a horse behind him. The speaker was the tallest woman he'd ever seen. Strikingly beautiful, with long black hair, she stood in the market place, sword drawn, in armor that did nothing to conceal the body of a Goddess. Next to her was a shorter, strawberry-blonde amazon with a large walking stick that looked like a formidable weapon.
"Hercules?!" exclaimed one of the brutes in surprise, sparing the woman warrior barely a glance. He shouted at his cohorts, "Beat it guys, its Hercules!" and they disappeared into the crowd like roaches in a suddenly opened cupboard.
Hercules looked at the warrior woman and his face lit up, "Xena!" he cried happily, "Gabrielle!" Iolaus had never seen his master look so glad.
"I should have known that I'd find you in a fight, Hercules." said the sultry beauty, while the little amazon smiled at them all.
"It beats joining a health club." Said Hercules in response.
He strode forward and embraced the two women like long lost friends, while Iolaus looked on.
He's a demigod and he's tight with this gorgeous woman, Iolaus thought. Gorgeous women, he corrected himself, giving the amazon a second look. Her beauty was different from the one his master called Xena, she glowed with youthful innocence and exuberance for life. Iolaus found himself standing side by side with Photina, who, bolder than him, took charge of the situation.
"Let's all take this up at the bathhouse,” she said to Hercules urgently as a crowd of excited villagers began to form. "Remember, you didn't want to be noticed."
Hercules nodded, instantly serious, and they followed him back to the bathhouse and the room where he and Iolaus stayed.
Iolaus followed the group with a sinking heart. His master wasn't crazy and didn't really need a slave caretaker. He really was a son of Zeus. Somehow, Iolaus would have been happier if the big man had really been bonkers. He shyly observed them talking and felt ill at ease.
Both new women shot him puzzled and yet friendly glances, and the short amazon favored him with a smile.
When they entered the room and everyone was seated, Photina began to speak, "I'm glad you are all here and I'm pleased to meet your two friends, but we have a new problem. Hera's priests were in the market. Unless you want to get in a much bigger fight, I think we should all get out of here. Now." She paused, obviously agitated and gave Xena and Gabrielle a rueful glance.
"I'm sorry to give you such a poor greeting," she said, "but if Hercules doesn't want Vatrahos on the alert, we really should get out as quickly as possible. I'll noise it about with my neighbors that I threw you all out for starting a fight, and decided to visit relatives because I'm embarrassed." Iolaus could see she was twisting her hands in agitation.
Xena looked at Gabrielle and nodded, "Yes, that's a good plan. I'm sorry we can't enjoy the hospitality of your bathhouse, but it can wait for another time."
Hercules was now up and gathering their few possessions hurriedly. Xena glanced at Iolaus. "Will Iolaus be able to travel?" Photina paused thoughtfully and gave Iolaus an appraising look.
"Yes, He's out of immediate danger for the moment. It might be better if you let him ride your horse, though." Xena nodded in agreement.
Everyone began bustling around and Iolaus felt lost. He picked up some of Hercules' bundles and then followed them all outside.
Then Photina closed up the bathhouse quickly and spoke to a few of her neighbors. They all headed out of town. Iolaus tried to refuse to ride, but the blue-eyed woman was made of steel and he found himself obeying her automatically. He didn't remember ever actually learning to ride, but realized once he was aback the great animal that he knew what to do.
Photina, still agitated, led the way. "I'm taking you all to a piece of land my family owns. The old house is gone, but it's nice with plenty of water and game and its pretty much off any regular road. I think you could all make camp there."
"I'm sorry I've caused you so much trouble, Photina," said Hercules and she interrupted.
"You haven't caused me trouble," she said rather fiercely, "Vatrahos and Hera's temple have. I'm just glad I've had a chance to do something about this eel situation. It sickens me.
"What eel situation?" asked Gabrielle and Iolaus realized he had been too ill to pay much attention to what his master had been doing.
"There's a rich man, Vatrahos, related to the king," Hercules said, "that's buying old or sickly slaves and then feeding them alive to his "pet" eels. He has a very large estate, but none of the slaves sold have ever come back. When I found Iolaus, he was in a group about to be sold to the man," His master's eyes flashed angrily. "He has some of the eels killed, then smoked and sold as a snack food in the cities."
The little amazon suddenly turned white as parchment. "Vatrahos' smoked eels!" she exclaimed in recognition and suddenly clasped both hands over her mouth. With a look of distress, she charged into the woods and returned moments later, still pale, and mad as a wet hornet.
"What are we going to do about it?" she demanded angrily, as they resumed walking.
"So far, we managed to liberate the last shipment," said Hercules. "Now that you're here, I'd like to investigate to see just what Vatrahos is up to."
Iolaus realized they were planning on fighting Hera's temple and this jerk Vatrahos to free a bunch of slaves. They all looked so angry and determined.
"Master," he blurted, worried about them, "This is going to be really dangerous. If they find out what you're doing, they'll kill you all or enslave you"
The warrioress gave him a sharp look. "Iolaus," she said in that beautiful and yet dangerous voice, "They were going to feed you to the things. Don't you want to do something to stop it?"
There was a question in her eyes that made him feel ashamed. His Master, Photina and Gabrielle all were looking at him in the same way.
He ducked his head. "Yes, I'd like to stop it" he said shortly, afraid to tell them that what was bothering him was their willingness to put themselves in such danger. The thought of any of them whipped, hungry or in chains filled him with terror.
They reached Photina's property a little after nightfall. Iolaus, more tired than any of them, despite riding the great steed, didn't object when Photina ordered him to sit while they made camp.
To Iolaus' surprise, Hercules made the supper. His delight at having Xena and Gabrielle there was infectious. Photina appeared to forget her anger at Hera's temple and began to enjoy herself in their company.
Iolaus sat on a log with his back against a tree and watched them all. His master, a real demigod, not a crazy but nice fool, insisted on waiting on all of them, including his slave. He would stop occasionally and squeeze Xena's shoulder or Gabrielle's affectionately and Iolaus realized he'd never seen Hercules laugh before.
He ate his own meal quietly, while the other talked. The women tried to get him to join the conversation.
"Iolaus," said the raven-haired beauty, "Do you remember anything about your past?"
"No, Mistress Xena," He said automatically and realized she had as much of a problem with that form of address as Hercules. The look of astonishment and displeasure she gave him was actually a little scary. He could imagine her commanding men easily and he bet they obeyed her quick.
Gabrielle gave him a look of concern and then came to sit on the log next to him.
"I've been enslaved a few times," she confessed chumily to him, "Xena always rescued me, but it was never a good experience." Her eyes were intent on his, "Once she rescued me from a coffin. I was about to be cremated in it alive. I think I've never been so frightened". She gave a little shudder then took a bite of food. "Did you fight back?" she asked, and he was trapped by her honest gaze.
"A few times." he said shortly.
"Did they punish you badly?" she asked in a soft voice, putting down her plate now and giving him her full attention.
Iolaus closed his eyes, "The first time, I thought they were going to feed me to the sharks, but they just whipped me a long time." Poor Doulos, he thought - if only he'd been able to save him. "The second time," he continued, "They beat and branded me, but it was worth it."
"How could anything be worth being branded?" Gabrielle asked pointedly. In the background, he could hear the others talking softly. A night bird gave a sweet cry. It was so strange to be discussing all this in such a pleasant place.
"I got almost all the children they used in the mines out - I found a natural chimney, it was too small for me, but not for the kids. Of course, it was in my work area and when they discovered it, they knew it was me who'd boosted the kids to safety." He smiled briefly, warmed by the memory of knowing the children were free, "But all of them got away and I didn't see the guards bring any of them back so I know they had a chance to be free. It was worth it, even if it means I'll always be a slave."
He looked over at the fire and realized now that everyone had been listening. He ducked his head and paid strict attention to his meal, embarrassed at his slip.
"What do you mean, you'll always be a slave?" asked Gabrielle kindly.
He looked at her, still chagrined, "Branded slaves can't be freed. It's some kind of law in Myopia. They always brand the trouble makers."
Then he stood up, "I'm sorry, but I think I should sleep." he said, not wanting to feel everyone's eyes on him.
"That's a good idea, Iolaus, you're still not completely recovered," said his Master from his seat by the fire. Iolaus noted that his Master's eyes looked strange, almost sad. Well, so far that was all he seemed to be able to do for his Master, that or irritate him. Iolaus sighed and lay down as far from their fire as possible. He almost flinched when Photina brought him blankets. Gabrielle probably meant well, but her drawing him out like that had made him feel vulnerable and he didn't like it.
He turned his back to all of them and considered the events of the day. His Master was a demigod; he'd probably know some sorcerer or healer who would be able to restore his memory. And when that happened, his eyes stung a little with self-pity, he'd be exposed. His memories (and he shuddered to contemplate them) would be those of a criminal, possibly a murderer. His Master obviously didn't need him at all for anything, so he'd be sold or maybe turned over to the authorities. Bitterly, he contemplated his fate.
The idea of dying didn't really bother him. He'd grown used to expecting death, but to lose all this kindness and maybe be sold again ... Oh, Gods, that caused him a real physical pain like a knife stabbing his gut.
He closed his eyes; "I have no right to any of this. I should tell him." He knew he ought to confront them with what he knew, what the Shipmaster and the priests had said, but he was afraid. This kindly group of people would hate him like they hated the slavers then and he just wasn't brave enough to face that hate right now. For the first time since Doulos died, he felt like crying, but hardened himself.
Fool, you've gotten soft - well just you wait. He warned himself angrily. When they know, they'll hate you. HE won't be kind anymore. He remembered this morning's revelation in the market place. Maybe he'll just kill me, he thought, anticipating Hercules' disappointment when he realized he'd freed the wrong man. For some reason, that comforted him. All the disappointment might just end.
The slight possibility that his Master might be correct and he really was this Iolaus fellow whose name he'd taken up so gladly just didn't feel right. Photina had told him that Iolaus was a great warrior and hero. He felt more like a great craven coward and since they'd beaten him on shipboard so badly, he doubted he could ever raise a hand to anyone in authority.
And in the mines he'd been mistaken for other slaves frequently. In fact, his designation as Blondie was the only way they could tell him apart from a few of his fellow workers, since short skinny slaves were in demand for exploring crevices and other narrow places in the mines.
Finally, exhausted and depressed, he drifted off to the sound of the fire crackling in the distance and soft voices in conversation.
Hercules watched Iolaus walk away and looked at his dinner companions.
"Gabrielle," he said gratefully, "that's more information than I ever got out of him the whole time he's been mending. He never told me about why they branded him." For a moment he clenched his fists, wishing he could visit the beasts running that damn mine. Using children as labor, half- starving them and then branding Iolaus.
Then he smiled at Gabrielle, who was watching him intently. "You're a treasure!" he announced earnestly.
Gabrielle gave him a lopsided grin and he felt Xena's hand touching his shoulder commiseratingly. He beamed at her now, happy again for the thousandth time to have them here.
"Iolaus has gone through things that would scare any two men to death and come away from it laughing or joking, but this memory loss . . ." he strove for words, "its like he's lost himself - he's not Iolaus."
He bowed his head, angry and impatient with the whole cursed situation. "He expects cruelty. They must have beaten him a lot, just judging from his wounds we found."
Photina nodded in agreement. "He's riddled with scars, mostly whips, maybe clubs and I think he has a few cracked ribs." She looked thoughtful, "If I didn't know better, I'd say that he'd been mauled by some beast too, there are the strangest marks that look like huge teeth."
"They're probably the marks of the She-Beast - the one who gave him the amnesia,” said Xena and Gabrielle nodded solemnly at the warrior woman.
Hercules saw Photina's eyes widen and explained, "We had a run-in with the God of Madness. He took me over and as I understand from Hephaestus, the Gods would have had to destroy me before I threatened everything in my path. Iolaus offered himself as a sacrifice to propitiate Madness and being fed to the great She-Beast of the Moon Mountains was the deal. None of which I remember. I thought when I first came to that he was dead. It was only when I visited Hades that I found out he'd survived."
He stopped, suddenly. Photina and Gabrielle's eyes were bugging out just ever so slightly. Xena looked more believing and matter of fact about the whole thing. He remembered that she had adventures in Hades' realm before. Persephone had told him all about it when he'd been under her care.
"Anyway, the morning after I found Iolaus and bought him, I noticed all the damage and got really angry. He thought I was mad at him and expected me to beat him. The shock sent him into a fever and I barely got him to Photina in time."
Gabrielle's eyes glistened with sympathy and Photina looked astonished. "I feel like I've just become part of one of the great legends,” she said to Gabrielle, "the finding of the Hero Iolaus."
Gabrielle gave her a happy look. "Oh, you have. I've got about half of it written down already and you'll definitely be in there."
While the two talked, Hercules turned to Xena. "I know I should be finding out more about what Vatrahos is up to, but I've got to do something more for Iolaus. He doesn't trust me or anyone and he's so trodden down. He still cringes when I make a sudden move." He fell silent. He'd freed slaves so often before. Had they all been like Iolaus after that? He resolved in future to make sure anyone he freed was returned to his or her family. Just freeing a person was only the beginning.
Xena gave him a wry smile and took his hand. "You know Gabrielle and I will be here for the both of you," she said, "And I think I have a suggestion."
"What?" he asked eagerly.
"Buy his manumission. Its a expensive legal document, but if he won't believe your words, maybe he'll believe something official and on paper."
"Do you really think that'll help?" asked Hercules. Xena looked across the fire where the subject of their conversation was sleeping fitfully.
"In this kingdom, he's a slave without it, no matter what our wishes are or how unfair it is." she replied, "If he has an actual document, it may help him to feel more independent."
"I never thought of that." Hercules was suddenly energized, "Photina!" he interrupted the two women eagerly, "where would I go for a writ of manumission? The capital?"
"No," Photina looked interested; "there's a village nearby with a court and judge. It's where we take lawbreakers. That would be the nearest place, but," she warned, "its really costly."
"Believe me," Hercules said without doubt, "it will be worth it. It’s driving me crazy to have him distrust me so. I don't like having a wall between my best friend and me.
Gabrielle, who apparently was able to carry on one conversation and listen to another simultaneously, smiled. "And a little scroll will knock the wall down," she said happily. "Say, I like that!" she jumped up and began rooting through her pack for one of her ever-present scrolls.
Drawing him out further, Xena asked him about how he had found Iolaus. So he told her and Photina about the slavers without bothering to conceal his contempt.
"I had to buy him and he thought I was Vatrahos the first night. He was so afraid of me, I gave him a knife so he would feel he had some protection."
Photina was startled, "But he might have hurt you!" she exclaimed and shot a quick look at the sleeper in the shadows. Xena smiled at him from shadowed eyes.
"I had to," Hercules said, looking into the flames, still moody at the thought of his lifelong friend not trusting him, "I hate the way he watches me now. He thinks I'm a really kind master and all, but he acts more like a beaten dog and nothing I say or do helps."
"Tomorrow," Xena said, "I think we should go the village with the law court."
Photina suddenly interrupted, "And don't tell Iolaus why." she cautioned.
Hercules didn't like that. "Of course, I'll tell him right away. Maybe it will comfort him,” he said a little indignantly.
"No." Xena said, "Photina's right." and she smiled at the bath house keeper, "Iolaus will only agonize until he has the papers in his hands and he'll find ways to discount it if you give him time to think about it. Make it a surprise and he won't be able to build up defense against it. As a slave his defenses against hope are what helped him survive,” she added.
That sounded right. Hercules wished he could leave right now and get this over. "Thanks for your advice, Xena." he whispered gratefully, "You've really given me hope."
Photina stood up. "Gabrielle and Iolaus should stay here. I don't want him traveling too much yet. Tell them you're scouting for a few days. I'll go with you both to show the way to the village. I have relatives there and it will give credence to my story about visiting." She smiled toothily.
"But what I'm really going to do is drum up support against Vatrahos and the temple. In fact, I think I'm going to tell people in all the villages I know about this. There are an awful lot of people unhappy about the slavers just like I was. They just need a little direction. Then I'll return home and act like I'm back at work."
Hercules grinned, "You're a good organizer, Photina. I'm glad you're on our side."
When Iolaus rose the next morning, his Master, Xena and Photina were all gone. Gabrielle was busy at the fire, making a good breakfast.
He greeted her respectfully and sat down. "Where is everybody?" he asked, still sleepy. He hadn't rested that well last night.
Gabrielle smiled at him. "They said they're scouting and raising support. They left me in charge to help take care of you until you get your strength back." She handed him a mug of cool spring water and cheerfully began to serve up two plates of scrambled eggs.
"I hope they're not gone too long," she remarked. "I'm not as good at hunting as Xena is and this is the last of the eggs."
"Maybe I can help with that," Iolaus offered.
"That's true. You're supposed to be a great hunter," said Gabrielle busily as she handed him his plate.
He was still having to live up to his 'reputation'. "I don't remember anything about hunting, Mistress," he began, and she stopped him cold.
"If you think you're going to get away calling me Mistress," she said sternly, "You've got another think coming. Its Gabrielle or nothing - Got me?"
Despite himself, he smiled. She was spunky enough to whop him on the head with the frying pan if he didn't do just what she said. "Yes," he mouthed carefully and they grinned at one another and started to eat. The food was delicious.
She watched him clean his plate carefully. "At least my cooking seems to agree with you." she remarked, "we should get along just fine." She refused to let him clean up, and kept up a one-sided chatty conversation about her latest adventures with Xena while she worked.
When she was done, she stood up, stretched and surveyed the surrounding greenery. "Let's scout around. I'd like to find some good places to put snares. Maybe we can run a fishing line too."
So together they began to explore the lush forest area surrounding their campsite. When she knelt to lay a snare, he stopped her. "I don't know anything about hunting," he said, "but I think an animal is more likely to walk along this way." He repositioned the snare and carefully camouflaged it with bent branches and leaves.
He also showed her some aromatic berries that he crushed and spread on his hands and then wiped on the bottom of his feet. "This will disguise our scent," he noted, "so the animals won't avoid our snares."
Gabrielle smiled, as she followed his example with the berries. "For someone who doesn't know anything about hunting, you're faking it pretty well. You're as good as Xena."
"It just seems like common sense to me." he defended himself, but Gabrielle was having none of it.
"Yeah, right" she said shortly. When they tried their hand at fishing and he was able to catch two fine trout, she snorted.
"Too bad you don't know anything about fishing," she said and sighed dramatically, "I guess we'll just starve tonight."
"All right," he gave in. "Maybe I know how to hunt and fish. I was surprised yesterday when I knew how to ride the horse. That doesn't mean . . ." then he stopped himself. He had almost said, "That doesn't mean that I'm Iolaus". She gave him a suspicious look but was fortunately silent.
The next day went quickly - He began to feel strength seeping back into his bones from the rest and good food. Whenever he began to feel the least bit tired, Gabrielle would make him rest and amuse him by telling him stories about Xena. She tried to tell him about himself, but seemed to realize it bothered him, because she soon stopped. He was grateful too, he didn't want to live up to the real Iolaus' reputation - he sounded like some kind of legendary figure.
The next night, after another excellent supper of fresh trout, Gabrielle's ever- present curiosity obviously got the better of her.
"Why don't you trust Hercules?" she asked, "You act like he's going to hit you or something. Can't you see what a good person he is?"
Iolaus was shocked, "Well, how often do you find out your best friend you don't even remember is a demigod?" he countered, "You have to admit, its not a run-of- the-mill occurrence. Maybe that happens to you all the time," he added sarcastically.
She was unimpressed. "I realize you don't remember anything, and sometimes he startles me too, when he casually mentions talking to some God or Goddess. But anyone can see he's terribly good."
"Yeah," said Iolaus, suddenly tired of this line of conversation.
Gabrielle wasn't going to let it drop. "There's something else wrong about this - something that is really bothering you."
She sat down on the ground next to him, "Please tell me what's wrong," she begged, "I won't tell him if that's what troubling you."
He looked at her earnest upturned face and thought about how nice it would be to discuss what was troubling him. Especially to someone with a face like a flower in bloom. While Xena was utterly gorgeous, Gabrielle had a sparkle and perkiness that was subtly seductive.
Against his better judgment he found himself blurting it out and was surprised at the anger in his voice.
"He thinks I'm his good buddy, Iolaus. He says I look like him, but I don't remember anything he says. This Iolaus guy is some kind of heroic warrior and I definitely don't feel like a warrior. I don't remember that, but I do remember what Hera's priests told me. They said I was a murderer. That I was executed by stoning or something but survived and was sold as a slave. And that's how I lost my memory."
He looked at the ground, terrified to meet her eyes, "I don't feel like a murderer or a criminal," he whispered, his lips dry, "but they said that was what I was."
Shameful tears of self-pity threatened to blind him and now he looked up, knowing he wouldn't be able to see the contempt in her eyes.
"I'm afraid to tell him," he blurted, "I don't know what he'll do, but he should probably retrace my steps and take me back to be executed if I'm a criminal or maybe . . . he should just sell me."
A hand touched him and he flinched like a trapped animal.
"You see," he continued miserably, "I'm not a good person and I don't deserve the kindness you all show me. I'm probably worse than the slavers. I should be back with them, not here with good people that I care about - I don't deserve it!"
And all the grief he had carried in his gut seemed to burst up out of him like fire from Hephaestus' forge. Overcome, he bent his head on his knees and heartily wished himself dead.
Gabrielle touched him again, and this time he was too distraught to fight those kind hands.
"Iolaus," she said, "It’s just not true. You are Iolaus. You look like Iolaus. You sound like Iolaus."
He hunched his shoulders and shifted away, "And what if I'm not and I only look like him. I don't feel like this wonderful guy you all keep talking about. I feel like a slave. I can't remember anything about fighting. I'm afraid all the time. Hero's aren't afraid."
He sat, his brief confession over, arms still wrapped tight around his knees, eyes hot and burning. He waited for her to get tired of this and leave.
"You're right," she said in an irritated voice, "You're not Iolaus. You're really an identical stranger!"
That did sound like a bit of a stretch. Stubbornly, he remained silent.
"Iolaus," she said softly now and the unexpected sound of grief in her voice was like lightning striking his raw senses.
Does she still care? He thought, I've confessed I'm a coward and a criminal. Doesn't she understand?
"Did Hercules tell you much about yourself and how he lost track of you?"
"No," he responded, bitterly, "I guess he didn't get around to it."
"Iolaus, YOU," she emphasized, "gave yourself as a sacrifice to the She-Beast of the Moon Mountains. You did it to save Hercules and he didn't tell you because you really didn't let him. He wanted to find a way to return your memory first. And you shut him out and made him feel like a jerk and that made him even more afraid to talk."
The logic brought his head up.
Gabrielle's eyes were filled with tears, but she had a light in her face like she was fighting a battle. He remembered on their trip here overhearing Xena saying something to the girl about "you fight with words, I use my weapons." and realized it was true.
She continued, fiercely, "The She-Beast's bite kills memory. The people in that region force criminals to the mountains and the brigands capture and sacrifice them to the beast. Only armed groups or giants will dare go through the mountain shortcut and someone like that found you, figured you were a criminal and sold you."
"It all makes sense," she said finally, "the timing, the memory loss, your wounds, even what the people at Hera's temple told you, because they would have been sure only a criminal or an idiot would wander those mountains alone. And it’s the kind of thing they would say to make you lose hope, because then you'd be a more obedient slave.
"Is it really possible?" he muttered, shuddering like someone trying to wake from a dream. Gabrielle drew him into her arms and cradled him like a child.
"Iolaus, you're not a bad person." she urged, "If you'd been a criminal, you'd still be that way without your memory, but look at you. You rebelled against the mines because they were cruel to other people, not just to you. You freed all those children. You could have attacked Hercules with the knife the first night after he brought you and killed him without anyone knowing. You didn't. Do you want to hurt people, Iolaus?" she asked.
He could feel her warm breath on his cheek. "I hurt my Master by acting so cold," he said halfheartedly.
"It sounds more like you were trying to keep from hurting him worse." she said, "Would a bad man do that?"
"He might," was the next tentative sally and she snorted in response.
"Do you want to keep hating yourself?" she asked, "Do you really feel you don't deserve a chance." Her arms tightened around him and he wondered if she was going to shake him in exasperation. She sighed.
"I keep forgetting you don't remember us anymore. What about Xena?" she asked.
"What about Xena?" he replied, wondering.
"She was evil at one time. She led an army of terrorists and brigands. She tricked and deceived you once and tried to destroy your friendship with Hercules. She even tried to kill Hercules. And then she changed. Do you feel she doesn't deserve a chance now?"
"Of course not" he said automatically, "anyone can see she's a good person."
"Well," drawled Gabrielle, making her point with a flourish, and at the same time letting him go. "I could say the same about you."
He smiled. "You know, I never would have thought that," he said. He sat up and looked her in the eye.
"Gabrielle, you're kind and you give me hope." Then a shadow of doubt clutched him. "It all seems so logical, like one of the old legends, but you could still be wrong."
He looked down a moment, "And besides you don't know how much hope can hurt when you're a slave." Then he met her gaze fiercely.
Gabrielle's eyes sparked with anger and she really did shake him now, in earnest.
"You have got to be the most exasperating man in the world!" she blurted, "It's the only logical explanation for everything, especially for this." and with that she touched his cheek, "The story that your face tells me settles it for all of us."
She calmed herself. "Please Iolaus, let yourself believe," she urged him.
Before she could say anything else, he decided.
"When my mast- . . .Hercules returns, I'll tell him about the temple. I should have before, I was just too cowardly."
"I'll be there with you if you like." she offered and Iolaus hugged her, moved by her sweetness and enthusiasm.
"Gabrielle, I thought you'd hate me when I told you and instead you've given me your friendship. I think now I do have enough faith to at least talk with Hercules." While the thought of that encounter still frightened him, he realized that it wasn't such an obstacle as he'd thought before.
He paused and rubbed his tired arms. "By all the Gods, I'm more tired from crying then I was after a day's hard rowing!"
Gabrielle's expressive eyes darkened in sympathy, "Was it hard?" she asked.
"Yes," said Iolaus, "But the mines were worse." Even now that memory haunted him, "The overseers there were bored, so they "played" with troublemakers. Someone always got hurt - bad. We called it practicing for Tartarus."
Gabrielle's eyes began to brim with tears again.
Greatly emboldened, Iolaus gently wiped them away, "Don't cry." He was the one urging now and he fought a sudden compulsion to kiss her. He was still a slave though, and her friendship was too important to risk by possibly offending her. Besides, he thought quickly, You really feel more brotherly towards her - I hope.
Gabrielle meanwhile wiped her eyes and got a very officious look on her face - an "I'm in charge" expression that made her look more like a little girl than it did when she was just being herself.
"You're exhausted - I'll take the first watch, while you sleep." and she bustled him to the sleeping blankets like a little mother hen, practically tucking him in, and standing guard with her fighting stick in hand.
He looked up at the stars overhead and smiled to himself. It felt nice to have her care about him. He tried to imagine what his Master would say tomorrow and despite his doing his best to worry, fell asleep.
When he woke, it was to the sound of pans scrapping over the stones of a cooking fire, little singing birds and his Master's voice speaking low and chuckling over something.
Iolaus sat up with a start. Gabrielle was asleep, rolled up in her blanket by the fire and Xena and Hercules were cooking something that smelled wonderful. Iolaus' mouth watered in anticipation. Such good smells here, so different from the mines. Each breath of air was pure gold to him. Then with a thud of his heart, he remembered what he had promised Gabrielle last night that he would to do and a thrill of fear brought him to his feet.
Appetite gone, he went to the fire and was greeted with friendly smiles.
He ducked his head shyly, as befits a slave and then remembered that it was this behavior that had already hurt his Master. So, painfully, he smiled at them both, though his heart was racing.
"Master?" he asked, "may I speak with you?"
Hercules grimaced and Iolaus heart sank even further. Nothing he did was ever quite right. He wondered what he had done now and then realized he'd called him Master again - that hurt Hercules too. It was so hard to just call him Hercules, though. Iolaus' back literally twitched each time, waiting for a disciplinary stroke of the lash for this unslavelike familiarity with a master.
Xena watched them both silently, and Iolaus wondered what she would think of him after he told Hercules "the truth".
Hercules stood up, "Sure" he said in his easy way, but he looked concerned. He nodded to Xena for permission and she returned it silently and watched them both with serious observant eyes. Iolaus tried to smile reassuringly at Hercules, but only succeeded in feeling like a fool.
He led his master to a quiet shady spot out of ear shot of the camp.
"What's this all about?" Hercules asked.
"I need to tell you something," Iolaus began and all last night's logic seemed to evaporate into thin air. He was no hero, no friend and fighter. He was a craven slave, who deserved everything he got. Struggling he looked into the woods, wishing he could just run away, but then he took a breath and steeled himself. I promised Gabrielle, he thought, and the memory of her gentle eyes spurred him on.
"I never told you what they told me in the temple." he began lamely. "What temple?" Hercules looked confused.
"One of Hera's temples," explained Iolaus and in his turn felt a little startled at the sharp look his master gave him.
"You never mentioned Hera,” said the big man and the concern on his face went to Iolaus' heart. With a pang he realized he'd probably never see that look again, not after he was finished talking.
"When the voyage ended," he said to his master, trying to concentrate on telling it right, "the priest from Hera's temple was considering putting me in her service. The Shipmaster told him I a murderer that escaped execution by some kind of fluke of fate and was sold as a slave instead. Because of that they sent me to Hera's mines." In spite of himself, he shuddered.
"So you see," he went on and heard his words start to stumble, "I might not be Iolaus. I could be a criminal. My looking like Iolaus might be just an accident." He looked up quickly, to see an astonished expression on his Master's face. "You know," he urged, "a coincidence."
He looked down at the ground, afraid to meet the big man's eyes. Even more afraid then he had been with Gabrielle.
"And I don't know how to fight. I don't feel like a hero." he continued nervously, the sinking sensation of fear pierced him cruelly, "I'm really afraid of most everything, Master. So you see, I might not be your friend."
He stared down at his own two feet, "Maybe you should sell me," he began, voicing his worst fear, when a large hand grasped his arm and startled, he found himself staring into Hercules' eyes.
"IOLAUS," he thundered in a voice that all the Gods of Olympus must have heard, "that's absolutely the most stupid thing I've ever heard in my whole life. It doesn't matter if you're afraid or you can't fight. I don't care. I do know that you're definitely Iolaus. You're my best friend, even if you are as dense as a brick. And you care too much about being a criminal to really be one!"
Iolaus realized his mouth was hanging open and he popped his jaw shut with an audible snap.
"And no one's ever going to sell you, Iolaus. You're not a slave anymore, no matter how much you seem to want to be." and he took a scroll from his belt. "Here!" he said commandingly, thrusting it at Iolaus "Read this."
Puzzled, Iolaus took the scroll and found to his surprise that he could read it.
"Master, I can read!" he exclaimed, distracted, and then he realized what this was. A writ of manumission, freeing one slave named Iolaus, at a cost that was much more than his original purchase price.
He clutched the scroll and stared at this man who insisted on kindness to a slave in a world that should be red with blood and pain.
"You freed me?" he asked, stunned. "You freed me?"
Then it hit him. That's what Hercules had been trying to tell him all along. That he was free. He'd been purchased to be set free, not to be a slave, but he'd been too downcast to understand.
"I'm free," he whispered. He rolled the suddenly precious scroll up and stuck it in his belt quickly and then looked at his own hands. The hands of a free man.
He touched his face, exploring it. It was a new territory. The face of freedom.
Then he looked at Hercules and laughter he'd never heard before bubbled from his lips. "I'm free!" he shouted.
He grasped the big man's shoulders and realized that Hercules was smiling at him and that the son of Zeus had unabashed moistness in his eyes.
"Master, I mean, Hercules," Iolaus gasped, "I'm really free."
And he hugged his ex-master gleefully. Hercules embraced him and slapped him on the back just as gladly. All the awkwardness was gone, dissolved like a soap bubble that had never existed. Iolaus could see the joy in his eyes and the newly free man laughed again.
"Xena, Gabrielle," he shouted ecstatically, "look at this."
He dragged the unresisting Hercules back to camp and met both women standing curiously by the fire.
"He set me free," he said incredulously to Gabrielle, and handed the little bard the scroll. Then bold where he'd been cowardly before, he gave her a resounding kiss on her strawberry lips and a bone-crushing hug. Then, he turned and to Xena's obvious surprise, did the same to the warrior princess, who stiffened momentarily in shock and then smiled and hugged and kissed him back.
He turned back to his master, no, his ex-master.
"If you try to kiss me," Hercules warned, "I'll toss you in the river."
Iolaus laughed while Xena and Gabrielle joined in.
When they had all calmed down, Hercules smiled and said, "I'm really hungry, let's eat." and proceeded to serve them all breakfast of trout.
"I'm glad you got back so quickly," Gabrielle said happily as she dug into the contents of her plate.
Iolaus ate his meal with good appetite. Freedom made the food taste even better. He had once thought bitterly that smiling a lot would feel unnatural, but his face was apparently made to easily laugh and grin and smile. He paused a moment and practiced grinning over at Hercules who chuckled as though he understood what his freeman was thinking.
Even Xena began to grin and Gabrielle fairly glowed. She finished her food quickly, and then came to sit next to him.
"Did you get to talk to him?" she whispered, "or have you finally realized you really are Iolaus?"
Iolaus pushed away a sudden compulsion to tell her that her lips tasted like strawberries. When her face turned up at him like that . . .
He shook himself; "I did - that's why he was yelling like that - he was almost as mad as you were last night."
Xena was observing all of this curiously. Gabrielle looked over at her friend and then asked Iolaus for permission with her eyes.
He nodded his consent to her. He didn't remember ever feeling this type of happiness. He'd been wildly joyous when the children got away and that was about it. Now all his fears and worries had been reduced to nothing.
Gabrielle was showing a decided ability to talk without pausing, "The slavers and Hera's priests told Iolaus that he was a criminal, an executed murderer, who had survived and was sold. He thought he deserved to die, not to be treated kindly. That's why he didn't believe us. I got to explain more about it to him last night."
"All of us at the mines got mistaken for each other, too," Iolaus added by way of explanation, 'You know, ‘all slaves look alike to me' he mimicked the voice of the mines' chief overseer, "I really thought you were wrong." he added.
"I'm glad they didn't take a good look," said Hercules, "If anyone had recognized you as Iolaus, " the big man gave a little shudder, "Hera would never have let you go. She would have used you to get to me. That's her way of doing things."
Gabrielle looked grim.
"You're lucky, Iolaus," she commented, "You and Hercules have given Hera trouble for years."
"And Ares isn't fond of you either," added Xena.
Iolaus smiled at her, "I'm lucky," he agreed, "Lucky Hercules set me free."
Hercules' head swung toward Xena for a moment; "You have Xena to thank for that, Iolaus. It was her idea." He looked troubled, "I always thought of you as free and it was hard when you wouldn't believe me. I'm not used to you doubting what I say." He favored the ex-slave with a wide grin, "And I have to admit she was right. Its good to see you like this."
Before he could move to thank Xena again (and perhaps to prevent him from doing it), Xena leaned forward to start cleaning up. Both Iolaus and Hercules moved to stop her.
"Let me, Xena," said Hercules.
"No, Please." said Iolaus simultaneously.
Gabrielle burst out laughing. "We're going to get spoiled if you keep this up." she commented. "Come Xena, may I help you clean up camp?" she asked playfully and Xena's response was amused, "This is a rare treat, isn't it? Two men fighting over cleaning up after us."
While the two women picked up, Hercules had a question for Iolaus. "Would you like to help me scout out Vatrahos' estate? Gabrielle told me last night that your hunting skills are returning and I'd really like your company."
Being asked instead of being told. This was a new luxury to the bemused Iolaus. Of course, his Master had always done just that, but Iolaus, with his beaten mentality had seen a threat behind the words - the unsaid "I own you". Now he knew he had been wrong the whole time.
"Sure," he said simply, "Anything you like, Mas- . . . Hercules!"
Chapter 3 written September 16, 1997. .
Continue on with Chapter Four
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