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title: The Price
author: Owlharp
author's email: owlharp@juno.com

                            THE PRICE

                           by Owlharp

[DISCLAIMER: this story is in no way intended to violate any
copyrights held by MCA, Universal, Renaissance Pictures, or any
other entity involved in the production of "Hercules: the Legendary
Journeys". Thanks for putting on such a great show, guys!]

{Author's notes: this story grew out of what was going to be a
simple e-mail with my own answer to the question of what happened
to Iolaus's family. The time frame for the story would be after the
events in "Maze of the Minotaur" and before those of "The Wrong
Path", where Hercules loses his own family.}  



   "Tell your village that I'll be there to help".
   "Oh thank you, sir! Thank you!"
   The ragged peasant bowed almost to the ground and then scurried
away down the road. Hercules turned to his companion. 
   "Well, what do you think, Iolaus? Are you up for hunting a
couple of Harpies?" 
   Normally when Hercules asked a question like this, it was
rhetorical. Iolaus would grin, heft his sword and say "Let's go!",
and the two of them would set out on a new adventure. 
   But not this time. 
   Instead, Iolaus looked gravely at his big friend and said,
"Hercules, can you handle this one by yourself?"
   "Well, sure, but -".
   "It's almost the harvest festival".
   "Ah! you're right! I'd forgotten! Sorry!"
   "No problem! I'll meet you at the Corinth crossroads in a week,
all right?" Iolaus settled his sack more comfortably across his
shoulder.
   "Sure!" Hercules gave him an encouraging grin, and watched as
his friend set out down the road that led to the temple of Demeter.
As he watched, he also remembered ...

   The message had been garbled, as messages often are. Something
was wrong on Iolaus's farmstead, maybe with Iolaus or maybe with
his son. The message had not come from Iolaus at all, but from the
sister of his late wife Ania. Nothing was clear except that
something was very wrong. 
   Deianaira had been alarmed enough to insist that she go with
Hercules to see what was the matter. She had asked her own sister
to watch the children for a day or two, and then she and her
husband set out. 
   There had been no welcoming smoke from the chimney of Iolaus's
ramshackle house, and no reply to their shouts and their knocking.
Finally Hercules looked meaningfully at the door and then at
Deianaira. She smiled ruefully and nodded. He took two steps
backward and launched himself.
   The door yielded on the second try, its hinges screaming as they
tore from the wood of the door frame. Sunlight poured into the
darkness. 
   It took a few heartbeats for their eyes to adjust to the gloom
within the shuttered room, but when they did, Hercules and
Deianaira saw a huddled figure sitting at the table. A cloak hung
from his shoulder and trailed on the floor, as though he had just
come in from a journey. He did not move, even when the door crashed
down to the floor. 
   "Iolaus!" bellowed Hercules. 
   There was no response. The figure did not stir.
   "Iolaus?" called Deianaira. 
   Silence.
   Hercules bounded across the room and took his friend by the
shoulders. He was horrified at what he saw. 
   Unshaven and filthy, Iolaus' face was blank and set. His hollow
eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing. He scarcely seemed to
breathe.
  "What's happened? What's wrong with you?!" Hercules demanded.
Deianaira looked around the room and suddenly gave a cry. "The
cradle!"
   Hercules looked up. The cradle that stood next to the bed was
empty, the blankets draped over the side. 
   Their eyes met in consternation. Deianara went white, but
swallowed hard and asked in a low, soothing voice. "Iolaus, where
is your son? Where is Aetos?" 
  "Iolaus, tell us what's happened!"
  A little sound came from the half-open mouth and the blind blue
eyes seemed to flicker. 
   Deianaira knelt down by the chair and took Iolaus' hands in
hers. They were icy to the touch. She began to rub them, very
gently, and to talk in a tone just as gentle.
   "Iolaus, whatever has happened, you have got to tell us. We have

to know. Where is Aetos?" 
   For a long time there was nothing but silence. Then Iolaus's
eyes seemed to focus on Deianaira for the first time, and he took
a deep shaky breath. "He's ... he's -" the words disappeared.
   Deianaira steeled herself as her terrified suspicions increased.
"Iolaus, " she said very softly, but with a note of command. "Did
the baby die?"
   "No!" the word tore its way out. 
   "Then where is he? What happened?" She held his gaze with her
own, until he shut his eyes and bowed his head. Finally he began to

speak, his voice flat and monotonous, as though afraid to let any
feeling out at all. 
   "Three nights ago Aetos had a fever. I did all the things you're
supposed to do ... but it just got worse and worse... Finally I
bundled him up and took him to ... the temple of Asclepius -" he
hesitated for a second, then went on, "but they said there was
nothing that they could do. They told me to to wait and see how he
was in the morning. So I lay down to sleep, with him next to me -
and then Ania came..."
   "Ania?" Deianaira looked up at her husband, who just shook his
head silently. "You saw her spirit?
   "She stood beside me. She was weeping. All she kept saying was
'Take him to the goddess. Take him to Demeter!'"
   Hercules murmured, "I remember now! Ania's family had a lot of
ties to the temple of Demeter. Her uncle and several of her
brothers have served the goddess as priests". 
   Deianaira nodded, but Iolaus seemed not to hear him. In that
same dead, expressionless voice, he went on. "I woke at dawn. Aetos
was no better. I told the healers what I had dreamed. And then ...
I did what Ania said. We went to the temple of Demeter. It was half
a day's walk...".

  It seemed an especially cruel irony that the day was beautiful -
a warm sun shone in the cloudless blue sky and a gentle breeze blew
the scent of flowers through the countryside. Iolaus saw and felt
none of it. All he was aware of was Aetos, cuddled against his side
in the sling. He could feel the heat of the baby's fever against
his own skin. Aetos was sleeping, but struggling to breathe, and
each wheezing breath cut to his heart like a dagger.
   "Hang on, buddy, " he murmurred to the child, patting him.
"We'll be there soon. Your mother told us what to do, and we're
doing it! Everything's going to be fine, just you wait and see". 
   He trudged on. 
   Deep in a green vale, surrounded by orchards of apple and fig
trees, stood the temple of Demeter, gleaming white in its marble
purity. Slowly Iolaus climbed the steps and put his hand on the
great bronze ring to pull open the door. The great dark wooden slab
swung open easily and silently - and Iolaus stopped short in the
doorway at what he saw within. 
   It was as though he had been expected. A group of people stood
inside the temple, and looked at him without surprise or question
in their eyes. There were six men, standing in a half circle, the
eldest - grey-bearded and bent - at one end, the youngest - a youth
of perhaps ten - at the other. They were dressed in tunics of the
finest linen, and garlands, in the form of wheat but made of gold,
crowned their heads. 
   In the center stood a woman, grey-haired but straight as a
sword-blade, dressed like the men in whitest linen, but garlanded
in green leaves. Her lined face was stern and yet there was
kindness in it. She looked Iolaus up and down with faded blue eyes
and spoke. 
   "You are welcome here. You are Iolaus, are you not? - husband to
Ania and father of this child?"
   "Yes ... How did you -"
   The priestess and the priests merely smiled. 
   Iolaus lifted Aetos, who whimpered faintly, from his sling and
held him in his arms. "My son is ill, " he said simply. "The
healers at the temple of Asclepius said they can do nothing for
him. Last night Ania's spirit came to me in a dream and said to
bring Aetos here, to the goddess Demeter. And so I have. Please-" 
his voice broke "- for Ania's sake - for the sake of the service
her family has done for Demeter  - can you help him?"  
   The priestess surveyed him for a long time in silence before she
replied. "The goddess told us of your coming. She has an answer for
you. Yes - for Ania's sake, she will save Aetos.But there is a
price that must be paid - ".
   "Anything!" interrupted Iolaus. "What does she want? My land? My
service as a fighting man? My life? It's hers - just heal my son!" 
   Again the priestess was silent. "Demeter wants none of those
things," she said.
   "Then what?!"
   "Your son himself."
   Iolaus felt the breath go out of him. "What?!"
   "Your son - to be brought up here in the temple to serve her as
her priest. If your son is to live, you must relinquish him to the
goddess!"
   Had the roof suddenly fallen in on him, Iolaus could have been
struck no harder. For a long time he stood, mouth agape, staring in
tortured astonishment at the woman before him. Slowly he sank to
his knees. Aetos gave a brief wail, and Iolaus clutched him to his
heart. 
   "No," he whispered. "Name another price. Not my son."
   "There is no other price".
   "I beg you! Please!" 
   "It is the goddess's will."
   Aetos began to cry and gasp for breath between each wail. Iolaus
held him tightly and began to rock him.
   The priests and priestess of Demeter watched in silence. 
   Iolaus touched the child's cheek with his own, and felt the fire
that was consuming him. He looked despairingly up at the priestess.
   She held out her arms. 
   Swiftly he rose to his feet and took a step backwards. 
   "Think, Iolaus!" she said in a soft, yet stern voice. "Will you
give Aetos up to save his life - or keep him, only to lose him
forever? What did Ania say to you in your dream?"
   Iolaus felt his throat close up, and his eyes burned with unshed
tears. It took him several tries to answer. "She said ... she said
to - to take him to the goddess!" The words trailed off into a
whisper. 
   "Ania understood. Do you?" Still the priestess held out her
arms. "Will you save him? Or will you doom him?"
   There was an endless, agonizing hush, broken only by the sound
of the child struggling for breath. 
   Finally Iolaus met the priestess's eyes. Trembling, he gently
laid Aetos in her arms, bent, and kissed him. "Save him", he said 
softly. 
   The priestess of Demeter nodded. "Be comforted!"
   She held the child with one hand. With the other, she unpinned
the brooch which fastened her chiton and exposed her breast. It was
not the slack and withered dug of an old woman, but round and white
and dripping with milk. She put Aetos to her nipple. He latched on
greedily and began to nurse. For a long time there was no sound in
the temple but that of the child sucking.
   Finally Aetos pulled free from the priestess's breast. She
raised her head and said,"Iolaus, come here."  Iolaus approached
her, his eyes riveted on the baby. Aetos looked up at him and began
to gurgle and wave his arms and legs. 
   Iolaus laid his hand upon his son's forehead. It was cool. Aetos
grasped at his father's fingers and smiled. 
   "He's... all right! The fever's gone!" He felt a surge of
relief, which turned to numbness at the thought of the price he had
to pay.  
   The priestess gave a smile, but there was steel beneath it.
"Yes. Demeter keeps her promises. Now you must keep yours". 
   "What ... must I do?" His own voice sounded far away in his
ears, his eyes on his son, who was now smiling up in the
priestess's face. 
   "Vow - in blood - before us all, that you give your son freely
into the goddess's service".
   With hands that would scarcely obey him, Iolaus dragged forth
his dagger and - distantly feeling the pain - slashed the palm of
his left hand. Blood welled up from the scratch. One of the priests
stepped forward with a square of white cloth and caught the drops
as they fell. Iolaus barely noticed as they tied a bandage around
his hand. He struggled to get the words out. 
  "I give my son Aetos ... freely ... to the service of
Demeter...".  
   "And we accept him, in the name of the goddess!" The priestess
held the infant high and shouted "Goddess, behold your newest
priest!" She turned and presented him to the priests standing
behind her. "Behold your youngest brother!"
    She turned back to Iolaus. "Do not grieve," she consoled him.
"Aetos will be loved and well-cared for. We of Demeter shall be
mother and father to him. He will become a great man some day." She
smiled down again at the baby, who was sucking his fist.
   "Can't I - can't I ever see him again?" 
   "Demeter is merciful. Once a year, at her festival of the
harvest, you may come to the temple and see your son. But now, bid
him farewell".         
   Iolaus bent over the baby and kissed the tiny fists. In the
depths of his heart he wanted to scream, to curse, to rage and
weep. But instead he merely whispered, "Aetos, I will love you
always. Goodbye, my son". 
   Without another word, he turned and left the temple.

   Tears were coursing down Deianaira's face, but Iolaus still
stared straight ahead, unweeping, his haunted eyes wide and blind.
"...I don't remember the journey home", he said in the same
lifeless tone. "...I don't even know how long I've been back. But
... anyway, that is where Aetos is - where he will be ..." He
turned vaguely in Deianaira's direction. "Thanks for ... coming to
check on me..".
   Deianaira's voice was perfectly steady, "It's all right". She
studied Iolaus' face for a moment, and then turned to her husband.
"Hercules, will you please go out to the woodpile and get some
firewood. It's cold in here and we need a fire". Her eyes met his,
and a message passed between them.  
    Iolaus did not seem to notice when Hercules went out the door,
lifting it up from the floor and setting it against the wall. Nor
did he react when Deianaira got to her feet and put her hand on his
shoulder comfortingly. He simply sat, staring into nothingness.   
    Very quietly Deianaira walked over to the cradle and picked up
the soft woolen blanket that hung over the side. Holding it in her
hands she moved back in front of Iolaus.
   "Iolaus."
   There was no answer.
   "Iolaus. What do you want me to do with this?" She held the
blanket out to him. One corner brushed against his face. It seemed
to catch his attention finally. With trembling hands he took it
from her and looked at it for moment in numb silence. His eyes went
to hers, and back to the blanket. 
    Then came what Deianaira had waited for, what she knew in her
heart had to happen if Iolaus was to go on living, and she caught
him in her arms as he suddenly began to weep, still in that same
terrible silence. She held him tightly and felt him shaking
uncontrollably, in great, noiseless spasms that threatened to tear
him apart.  
  For a time she just sat there, holding him, saying nothing, until
Hercules appeared in the doorway, arms full of firewood.
   Before her husband could speak a word, Deianaira held up a
warning hand and shook her head. Hercules looked surprised for a
second, but his expression changed to one of understanding. He
nodded and slipped back out the door.
    The sun had begun to sink down into the west by the time Iolaus
rose unsteadily to his feet. His eyes were red and swollen, but
there was life and sanity in them once more. At long last Hercules
kindled the fire, and Deianaira sat Iolaus in front of it and
thrust a cup of wine into his hand. "You're going to live now" she
said firmly. "You have to. For Aetos' sake. The harvest festival is
only half a year away!"
   "I've lost him ... and Ania. I've lost everything!" Iolaus
replied in a weary voice.
   "No!" said Hercules. "You haven't lost yourself. You haven't
lost us, either! And right now I need you. The reason I came up
here was to ask you to come with me. There's a group of bandits 
that's been raiding the villages, three mountains over. The
villagers sent a messenger to ask me for help. Iolaus, I need you
at my back! Will you come?!" 
    Iolaus drained the winecup and set it back down on the table
with a thump. He fixed Hercules with a withering glance. "You," he
said, with a trace of his normal spirit, "are the worst liar in
Greece! You did NOT come up here to ask me that, so don't pretend
that you did!" Hercules started to protest, but Iolaus went on.
"But if there really are bandits three hills over, and you really
do want to deal with them, then I'll be at your back!" A very faint
smile crossed his face. "After all, I've got to do something to
kill time until the harvest festival!" 

   Hercules watched as the small blond figure trudged along the
track that led over a grassy hill. At the very top of the hill,
Iolaus turned and waved, then disappeared beyond, travelling the
road to the temple of Demeter and the son that he had lost to a
goddess, rather than losing him to Death. 

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