Hercules, legendary hero, son of Zeus, champion of the weak and innocent, slayer of the Minotaur and the Hydra, was not having a good day.
The axle of the loaded cart he pulled had broken down on the rutted road, and he fixed it just in time to get caught in the downpour that had been threatening all day. The driving rain had soaked him in minutes. He asked himself for possibly the hundredth time why he wore leather pants that weighed a ton and squeaked whenever they got wet.
As he trudged, dripping, through the morass of trampled mud that passed for a path, he consoled himself with the thought that Theoris would have a fire going and a hot meal waiting when he got back. With any luck, Iolaus would be there as well. He hadn't seen his irrepressible companion in several weeks, and looked forward to Iolaus' account of his trip to see friends in a neighbouring province.
Theoris was Hercules' cousin on what he thought of as the sane side of his family. Her mother, Alcmene's sister, had succumbed to an illness that had also taken Theoris' father some months earlier. Hercules had been visiting his mother when Alcmene had received word that there was trouble on the farm where Theoris now lived alone. Concerned that she hadn't heard from her beloved niece, Alcmene asked Hercules to look in on her. Hercules had always been particularly fond of Theoris and needed no urging to make the trip, asking Alcmene to send Iolaus on as soon as he returned.
He'd arrived at the farm two days ago. Theoris, although delighted to see him again, wasn't forthcoming about the incidents, dismissing them as a run of bad luck. However, Hercules had a little too much experience with 'accidents' to put any faith in coincidence.
A cursory inspection of the damage to the property had convinced him the burned stable, dead livestock and tainted well were not due to random chance. In the absence of an immediate suspect, however, his first order of business was to rebuild Theoris' stable and dig a new well. This morning he had gone into the village for supplies, and wasted a great deal of time haggling with village merchants who developed dinar signs in their eyes at his approach. They obviously had inflated notions of what the hero business paid these days, even when one was the son of a god.
The late afternoon sun was beginning to shine palely as he reached the farm. "Too little, too late," he growled, opening the gate and sending squawking chickens scattering.
He lowered the cart poles with a grunt of relief and stretched, shoving his wet hair out of his eyes. As he mulled over whether he had energy left to remove his boots, he became aware of raised voices coming from within the house.
Groaning, he clomped to the front stoop and pushed the door open. A knife flew by his head and embedded itself in the post behind him.
"What is it with you two?" he complained, hand cupped protectively over his ear. "Can't you be in the same room without bringing out weapons?"
Theoris drew him inside, hugging as much of him as she could reach. As usual, her unruly hair was escaping its long braid and falling into laughing eyes that were very like his own.
"Hercules! I expected you back ages ago!" she said as she pushed him into a chair and tugged his boots off. "And Iolaus is here," she added, scowling over her shoulder at the compact blond.
"If I hadn't already heard you two from the front gate, that knife would have been the giveaway," Hercules answered as he accepted a towel from her and stretched his feet toward the fire. "It's good to see you, Iolaus. What are you two arguing about this time?"
Iolaus was relieved that Hercules had finally shown up. He didn't begrudge the kid a little help with her farm, but by the gods, for someone so small, she certainly could be a large pain in the neck. Once she'd set her mind on something, talking her out of it was like trying to hold water in a sieve.
"This is not the same as when I taught you to throw a knife," he told her, at the end of his patience. "I'm not going to fight with you, and that's that!"
"Let me get this straight," Hercules said to Theoris. "You're fighting because Iolaus won't fight with you?"
"What is such a big deal about teaching me to fight?" Theoris demanded. "It isn't that knife-throwing contest we just had, is it?" she continued, turning to Iolaus. "I only beat you by a blade's thickness, after all. A little intimidated?"
Teeth clenched, he said, "First: I only taught you to throw a knife properly because I was afraid you were going to kill someone with it. Second, this isn't a game; you could get hurt if you don't listen to me, and you never listen to me. And third, you're not going to provoke me into agreeing by pretending to think I'm afraid of you!"
Hercules laughed. "I don't know, Iolaus. It always seems to work when you try it on me. Theo, I'll teach you, if you like."
"Well, if you weren't three times my size and strong enough to push over a palace, I might be able to learn something from you," she pointed out. "But Iolaus could show me how to defend myself against somebody who's bigger than I am."
"Everybody's bigger than you are, for Zeus' sake," Iolaus said, distracted by his rumbling stomach. Joining Hercules by the fire, he lifted a saucepan's lid and sniffed appreciatively at the contents. "And you still haven't told me why you need to know how fight all of a sudden."
Theoris became absorbed in setting the table. Rising, Hercules took the wine cups from her hands.
"You don't really believe that what's been happening around here is bad luck. Talk to me, Theo."
She sank into a chair with a resigned sigh. "I think it's Kriton," she said.
Hercules raised his eyebrows. "The father of the boy you're engaged to?"
"I'm not engaged to Daneus! That was an arrangement my father made with Kriton when I was still in swaddling clothes, and I won't be bartered for like a prize heifer. Anyway, it was never about me and Daneus; Kriton had to take me to get his hands on our property, and I have no intention of handing it over and becoming a brood mare for his wretched son."
"But if the marriage was already arranged, you can't just..." Iolaus started.
Theoris jumped to her feet. "Listen, you, this is my life, and I deserve the same right to make my own decisions that you or any man takes for granted! These are modern times, you know. The wheel's been invented since you were young, and women can even own property now. Besides," she added angrily, "there's someone else."
She turned back to the table, clattering knives and plates. Iolaus clutched his chest, feigning a mortal wound. Hercules warned himself not to laugh.
"Look," she told Hercules more calmly, "I just didn't want to get you involved in this. I love you a lot, and I know you and Alcmene want to help, but I need to work it out myself. If it is Kriton -- and I don't know that it is -- this has to be resolved permanently. He's not going to stop just because you toss a few of his goons into a tree, and you can't stay here to protect me forever. I know Iolaus' teaching me to fight isn't going to solve anything, but at least it's a place for me to start. I won't marry Daneus and I won't be frightened away from my family's home."
"She's right," Iolaus said unexpectedly. "Don't let it go to your head," he told a smug Theoris. "All I meant was that you need someone to look after you full-time. What about this fellow who's in love with you? Why don't you marry him instead? That would tie Kriton's hands."
"I didn't say he was in love with me, did I? There's a lot I want to do with my life before I think about marrying anybody. Anyway," she confessed, "he doesn't exactly know he's interested in me yet. But I'm working on it."
"So he doesn't know what he's in for?" Iolaus said, feeling sorry for him, whoever he was. "Well, I hope he's got nerves of iron and a thick skull, because with your temper, he's likely to spend a lot of time ducking crockery!"
Before Theoris could respond, Hercules interjected hastily, "I've been thinking about that roast lamb you promised me for hours. Let's eat, okay?"
After dinner, Theoris refused offers of help and sent the two men out to the front stoop while she cleaned up. Iolaus leaned back in his chair with a sigh of contentment.
"I'll say one thing for that girl. She may have Hera's own temper, but she's the best cook in the province. What did she say was for dessert?"
Hercules surveyed his old friend with amusement. "If you're planning to pass that compliment on, you might want to work on your phrasing. I've never seen anybody who could ruffle her feathers the way you can."
"I do seem to set her off, don't I?" Iolaus grinned. "Seriously, Hercules, what are you going to do? All her talk about her rights doesn't change that fact that Kriton could make a legal case for forcing her to forfeit the farm for breach of promise. It'd be a shame if she lost her independence."
"Independence?" Hercules said quizzically. "I thought you were all for marrying her off for her own good."
"I didn't say that! I just said, if she was in love with someone, it wouldn't hurt to... well, I guess I did say that. But I didn't mean she should marry the first man she falls for just to have protection. She's still a kid, really; she should have the luxury of taking her time."
"Look again, Iolaus," Theoris said from behind them. "I haven't been a kid for years. I know my own mind, and I know what I want -- and it isn't Daneus. So are you going to help me, or not?"
Iolaus looked an appeal at Hercules, who shook his head. "You might as well try and keep the sun from rising, Iolaus. Why don't you admit defeat? Think of it as an opportunity to pay her back for the time she slipped you that soap that turned your hair green."
"Oh, I already paid her back for that one," Iolaus replied offhandedly. "I gave her washerwoman a dinar to take in her dress a little every week for a month."
"I starved myself for weeks for no reason? You are absolutely the most --" Theoris stopped, took a deep breath and smiled. "Let's call it a draw, shall we? You teach me to fight, and I'll cook you all your favourite meals. Come on, Iolaus," she coaxed, "the worst that can happen is that you won't have to help Hercules dig my new well."
"Hey, wait a minute," Hercules protested, as Iolaus looked at her with suspicion.
"That was too easy," he said. "What are you planning?"
"Me?" she answered. "Planning? When did you develop this nervous streak? I just want to know what to do if someone sneaks up behind me in the dark. Good! It's settled, then. We'll start tomorrow morning. I don't suppose anyone has room for pie?"
The sun was still low in the sky the following morning as Hercules began digging the new well. On the other side of the yard, Iolaus was singing a complicated and extremely impolite ditty about a one-legged man and a dancing sheep as he dismantled old well's housing. The night before had been quiet, with no new incidents; hardly surprising, since Hercules was sure that the offenders had been notified of his presence at the farm.
It had been as quiet, he amended to himself, as a night with Iolaus and Theo ever was. She never tired of hearing stories of her famous cousin's exploits with his best friend, especially the ones in which Iolaus' less than cautious nature led him into trouble.
Her favourite last night had been Hercules' only slightly exaggerated version of his rescue of Iolaus from the harem of a sultan who had visited King Jason in Corinth several years earlier.
The monarch's sheltered wives had never encountered a blue-eyed blond before ("They said I had hair like the sun and eyes the colour of the seas," Iolaus said complacently. Theoris confined herself to an unladylike snort), and Iolaus had decided that he owed it to the cause of Greek tourism to satisfy their curiosity. By the time Hercules had learned from Jason that the punishment for entering the seraglio was instant castration, Iolaus, unaware of his peril, had charmed his way inside. The only way to smuggle him out intact was (of course) to disguise him as one of the concubines.
Inevitably, the sultan chose that time for a royal visit; tantalized by a glimpse of Iolaus under his draperies and thinking him a gift from Jason, the smitten potentate ordered the head eunuch to deliver him to the royal bedchamber.
It seemed that the sultan also had developed a taste for golden curls and sapphire eyes ("The sultan's words, not mine," Iolaus assured a skeptical Theoris). Fortunately, Hercules knew Jason's palace well, and he spirited Iolaus through a hidden panel while his admirer slept off the effects of a potion supplied by some of the appreciative wives.
"He must have chased me around the bed spouting bad poetry for fifteen minutes before he fell down," Iolaus laughed. "He said my beauty and shyness had captured his heart. I was beginning to fear for my virtue when Hercules finally popped out from behind a hanging."
"I don't know," Theoris said, surveying him critically. "Your shoulders are a little too broad for real beauty, to my way of thinking."
"True, but apparently the sultan was a leg man, and Iolaus does have a well-turned ankle," Hercules pointed out helpfully.
"Why, Hercules, thank you very much," replied Iolaus, overcome. "And here I was thinking you were starting to take me for granted."
By the time the three had finished pie and stories and said their goodnights, Iolaus and Theoris had fashioned a fragile peace. Hercules hoped that their truce could withstand the upcoming tutoring.
His cousin, who had just finished milking her three remaining cows, had finally caught the gist of Iolaus' song. "Iolaus!" she said, feigning shock. "My modesty..."
"Doesn't bear close examination," he finished cheerfully. "As I recall, you were the one who taught me that song after a little too much wine one night. What's for breakfast?"
"Lesson first, breakfast second. Finish what you're doing, and I'll change into fighting clothes."
"Fighting clothes," Iolaus said to Hercules. "Move over, Xena."
"Just for that," Theoris announced, "I won't be making any allowances for all the extra years you have on me. You'll just have to keep up the best you can."
Iolaus glowered after her. "One day," he told Hercules darkly, "someone's going to figure out a way to stop that tongue of hers, and I hope I'm there to see it."
"You just hate not getting the last word," Hercules replied, putting down the shovel to shrug off his shirt. It was still early, and already the air was turning sultry.
Straightening, he spotted several figures approaching on horseback. As they neared the gate, he moved to the low stone wall, casually blocking their entrance into the yard. He knew without looking that Iolaus was at his side, hand not far from the knife in his belt.
"Good morning," Hercules said, leaning against the gate. "Is there something I can do for you?"
Three of the men facing him wore retainers' livery. The older of the other two looked him up and down, shielding his eyes from the sun's glare. "You must be Hercules," he said finally. "I hope you're here to talk some sense into that willful cousin of yours. She was promised to my son, and I plan to hold her to that promise. So you just get her out here, and we'll make arrangements for the marriage to take place as soon as possible."
"Well, I'm afraid it's not going to be that easy," Hercules said apologetically. "You see, Theo doesn't want to marry your son, and frankly, I've never been successful at making her do anything she doesn't want to do. In fact, I think it's safe to say that Tartarus will freeze over before this marriage happens, so I'd advise your son to start looking for another wife."
The pimply youth astride the fifth horse tugged at the older man's arm. "Let's just go, Father," he said sullenly. "T don't want to marry that evil-tempered witch anyway. Besides," he added, lowering his voice, "I've heard a lot of stories about what Hercules does to men who make him mad, so let's get out of here before that happens, okay?"
Kriton regarded his heir with disgust.
"Be a man, Daneus. She's your woman; get into that house and bring her out here, and if she won't come, drag her out. Once you're married, she'll soon find out what will happen if she doesn't fall into line."
"I wouldn't recommend that, Daneus," Hercules said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You seem to be a lot smarter than your father. You should take him and ride out of here very quickly, because he's about to find out first-hand what I do to men who make me mad."
Iolaus tensed, ready to spring at the first threatening gesture. Kriton assessed the smaller man and turned back to Hercules, whose indolent posture did nothing to disguise his alertness.
Jerking his head at his men, he barked, "This isn't over, Hercules."
"Cowards," Iolaus said disgustedly as the two men watched the retreating figures. "They'd rather burn down a defenseless woman's home than fight face-to-face."
Hercules shook his head. "There's something odd going on here, Iolaus. I'm not so sure Kriton is behind the damage. Why would he do something he's bound to realize would bring me to help Theo? The gods could be at work here."
"The gods? What could the gods have against Theo? And which gods, anyway? You're starting to see gods behind every bush, Herc. It makes a lot more sense for this to be just what it seems to be -- a greedy old man who wants her land. Doesn't it?"
"I suppose you could be right. I just have an... I don't know... uneasy feeling, that's all."
Theoris, joining them, heard the exchange. "Hercules, I have more faith in your feelings than anyone else's facts. The trouble is, I don't know how to defend myself against a god. But I can try and defend myself against a man. Are you ready, Iolaus?"
"Theo, I still don't think this is such a good..." he stopped at the determined look in her eyes. "All right," he sighed. "If it will make you feel better, let's get started."
That afternoon, Theoris was picking herself up for the dozenth time.
"You have to keep your weight over your feet," Iolaus explained. "The trick is to let your opponent's weight do the work for you; you're not throwing him, you're sending him off balance."
The next time, it was Iolaus who was airborne. He dusted himself off and stretched out a congratulatory hand to Theoris, who wound up and punched him in the arm.
"Ow!" he said in astonishment. "What did you do that for?"
"Don't patronize me!" she said angrily. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know you gave me that fall to make me think I was improving. Well, I'm not, and I know it! And I'm not going to if you don't start treating these lessons seriously. An attacker isn't going to just let me throw him!"
"You said yourself that this isn't a game. I have to know what I'm capable of, Iolaus!"
"You're right. I wasn't being fair to you. Okay, let's start again. I promise not to hold back this time."
Three evenings later, Hercules, concerned at Theoris' long absence, went to look for her at the pond where she'd gone to bathe some time earlier. As he neared the clearing he heard a gasp, followed by several venomous oaths. Theoris was in the pond, vainly trying to raise her leg high enough to wash her foot. Hercules sat on a rock at the edge of the water.
"Looks like Iolaus is being true to his word about not holding back," he observed.
She jumped at the sound of his voice, then rubbed her neck tenderly, wincing.
"I'm just fine, thank you," she said stiffly. "I needed a little elbow room, that's all. I'm not used to having two men cluttering up my house for days on end, you know."
He smiled at her sympathetically, and she burst into tears.
"I didn't know it was possible to hurt this much and still be alive," she sobbed. "And if you breathe a word of this to Iolaus, I'll murder you in your sleep."
Hercules laughed and took off his shirt.
"What are you doing?" she sniffed.
"Giving you a hand," he said. He settled behind her in the water, pulling her back comfortably against his chest. As his long fingers eased the tension from her aching shoulders, she let her head fall forward and sighed, "Oh, you are a god. You've always been my favourite relative, you know. Is it wise for cousins to marry, do you think?"
"Iolaus is a smart man, Theo," Hercules said. "He's perfectly well aware of the pain you're in, and he really admires your stamina. As a matter of fact, he's making dinner as a peace offering."
He was kneading her calf when she suddenly asked him, eyes closed, "Hercules, do you think he's still in love with her?"
"I thought you'd fallen asleep. Is who still in love with whom?"
"You know. Is Iolaus still in love with that queen that he talked about last night? The one who was married to his cousin?"
"I don't remember him saying he was in love with Niobe," Hercules answered cautiously.
"Oh, please." Theoris moved in the water to face him. "I'm not blind. It was obvious how he felt about her. Does he still feel that way?"
Hercules was silent for a moment, then finally said, "Iolaus will always love Niobe on some level. But she's his past, and somewhere out there is a woman who's his future. And that," he finished, yanking a wet red curl, "is all I'll say. Iolaus would not appreciate me discussing this."
She put a narrow foot on his chest and pushed away from him into deeper water, taking a few experimental strokes. "Hercules, you're a miracle worker," she called to him. "I feel --"
A cry of pain choked off her words as she was seized by an agonizing cramp. Helpless, she sank under the water as Hercules dove toward her. He found her on the second dive and pulled her, coughing and sputtering, to the surface. Carrying her to shore, he sank down on the grass and cradled her trembling body in his lap as she hugged him frantically, gasping for breath.
"Now I see why you don't want her to marry my son," came a voice from behind them. Kriton stood at the edge of the clearing, hand on his horse's bridle. He swung into the saddle and stared down at them contemptuously, sneering, "I didn't pay for damaged goods. You're welcome to her. But I will have this land -- be warned."
As he rode off, Theoris said shakily, "Damaged goods! Who writes his dialogue?" She released her grip on Hercules' neck just as he became aware of her heat against his body. He averted his eyes as she stood carefully and wrapped her dress around her slim form. She sat on a rock to dry her hair, raising an eyebrow at him.
"What's this sudden attack of shyness? We've swum together dozens of times."
"It's not that." Hercules pulled on his trousers. "It's what Kriton inferred that bothers me. I hope this doesn't push him into something foolish."
Theoris fastened her dress and stood on tiptoe in front of Hercules, small hands warm on his bare shoulders.
"I don't want to think about Kriton right now," she told him. "Do you realize you just saved my life? I'm sure you do this sort of thing all the time, but it's new for me."
She pulled his head down into a not-quite-cousinly kiss. "Thanks," she whispered into his ear, her breath gently stirring his hair.
"Hey! Where is everybody?" Iolaus called as he entered the clearing.
The two stepped apart, Theo's damp dress clinging to curves Iolaus hadn't realized were there. He resolved to pay more attention at their next lesson. He looked from her to Hercules, wondering if he was missing something, and then wondering why that possibility bothered him.
"I was beginning to think you'd run out on my cooking," he complained. "What is it?" he said to Hercules, instantly serious as he examined his friend's face.
"Kriton was just here," Hercules told him.
"What, alone? What was he expecting to find?"
"I'm not sure, but I think he got more than he bargained for."
Over Iolaus' dinner, Hercules filled him in on Theoris' mishap and its aftermath. "This is my fault," Iolaus said, troubled. "I shouldn't have worked you so hard. No lesson tomorrow, just rest! No, no, no, forget it," he said firmly as she protested. "Take tomorrow off, or no more lessons at all."
Theoris grudgingly conceded that a day off probably wasn't a terrible idea. After dinner she made herself a mug of willow bark tea to soothe the last of her aches and said good night, leaving the two men drinking ale by the fire.
Seething with impotent rage, Kriton whipped his horse toward the temple of Hera. "So that's what's been going on all these years," he snarled. "Not even bothering to hide their disgusting behaviour! Well, nobody makes a fool of me! You'll both regret this!"
Entering the temple, he knelt before the altar, proffering his sacrifice. "O noble Queen of the Gods!" he proclaimed. "Hear my petition! Grant me victory over Hercules, bastard son of Zeus!"
"Do you know how to speak plain Greek, you cliche-ridden blowhard?" a sardonic voice inquired.
A leather-clad figure materialized, lounging on Hera's throne. Dark and menacing, the powerfully muscled man swung a leg over the throne's ornate arm and continued, "Hera never misses an opportunity to mess with my brother, and neither do I. We brought him running to rescue that luscious cousin of his, so now it's your turn. What's your plan?"
"A-Ares?" Kriton said doubtfully, backing away from the altar. "I don't have a plan. I didn't want Hercules here. I just want Hera to vanquish him and get that trollop out of my way."
"I suppose you want her land, or some other equally tedious mortal matter," Ares sighed. "Whatever. Well, if I have to do the planning, you're going to have to do the legwork."
A small vial appeared on the step by Kriton's feet. "Give that to Hercules. But it has to enter his bloodstream; you can't just drop it into his glass of milk. Then you can scurry home and leave the rest to me." He vanished.
"Wait! How am I supposed to get close enough to Hercules to give him this?"
"That's your problem, old man," replied an invisible Ares. A mocking laugh hung in the air as Kriton left the temple clutching the vial.
The day dawned hazy, the air thick with humidity; even Iolaus' appetite was affected by the relentless heat. The three agreed that it was far too hot to continue repairs to the farm, deciding instead on a trip into the village. As they walked, Hercules and Iolaus were alert for unwelcome company. Although they knew they were watched, the trip proved otherwise uneventful.
The village lay silent in the unmoving air, only a few people going languidly about their errands. Theoris went to the tavern to take the landlord's order for her popular (and powerful) mead. Iolaus headed for the blacksmith, always ready to learn a new technique.
Deciding a forge was the last place he wanted to be, Hercules opted for some shade and a cold drink, and made for the village well. As he passed by an open door, a muffled figure suddenly darted out, stumbling against him. "Easy, friend," Hercules said, offering a steadying hand. "It's too hot to be in such a hurry."
The figure wavered, off balance, and caught at Hercules' hand. Hercules felt a sharp pain and drew his hand back to examine the deep, welling scratch in his palm.
"A thousand apologies, sir," the figure whispered. "I must have scratched you with my ring. Here, allow me..."
He withdrew a square of linen from his robes and dabbed at Hercules' palm.
"It's no problem, really," Hercules assured the man. "See, it's stopped bleeding already."
The figure bowed and hurried out of the village. Once out of view, he pushed back his hood to reveal a sweating, white-faced Kriton.
"I did my part, Ares," he muttered. "Now you do yours."
Hercules rubbed absently at the cut as he entered the tavern some time later. Was it his imagination, or was his hand getting a little stiff? Theoris was still arguing prices with the landlord when Iolaus joined them. The business concluded to their mutual satisfaction, she sat down with the men and they ordered lunch.
As they ate, Iolaus reported on the new method he'd learned of drawing out silver wire. Hercules was quiet and ate very little, moving the food around on his plate, unaware that Iolaus watched him narrowly.
"Let's head back," Hercules said abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. "I'd rather not be on the road after dark."
As they made their way home, Hercules was feeling more and more disoriented. He tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, but as the roaring in his ears increased he stumbled. He put a hand to his head as Theoris and Iolaus looked at him, concerned. He wanted to tell them that something was wrong, but the roaring took form and pulled him down into darkness.
Theoris cried out as Hercules crashed to the ground. Cradling his head in her lap, she looked up at Iolaus, horrified.
"He's burning up," she said. "What could have happened to him? He was fine when we left the house, wasn't he?"
Iolaus dropped to his knees beside the still form and lifted Hercules' hand to reveal the angry red slash across his palm.
"This hand's been bothering him since we were in the tavern," he said. "And he didn't eat much, either. He must have some kind of blood sickness. You stay here with him. I'm going to get the horse and cart."
As the darkness lifted slightly, Hercules became dimly aware of the jolting of the cart as it carried him back to the farm. He heard Deianeira's anxious voice from a distance as she sought reassurance from Iolaus. No, that couldn't be, he told himself. Deianeira was dead.
As his friend and his cousin stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes and put him to bed, the darkness capered and gibbered, beckoning him into oblivion.
Hercules jerked into consciousness. He was naked, his hands manacled over his head, the cold stone wall behind him slimy with algae. Around him torches flickered, casting the shadowed form opposite him into relief. The darkness hovered at the edge of his awareness.
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you that you're still unconscious, and none of this is real," his captor said.
Hercules twisted in the manacles' grip.
"Who are you? What's going on? I don't understand; how did I get here, and where are Iolaus and Theo?"
"You're a prisoner of your own mind. Your suspicion brought you here, and your guilt forged the manacles. As for your so-called friend, he's probably trying to seduce your cousin. And who am I? Why, Hercules," he said, coming into the light, "I'm you."
Hercules stared into a face that was his own, and yet not his own. Surely he had never worn such a bitter smile, never had such angry eyes.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Only a little chat about your good friend -- our good friend," the other corrected himself. "A man couldn't have a better friend than our honourable Iolaus, don't you agree?"
Hercules tried to concentrate on the voice, but the words bewildered him.
"Iolaus," he repeated stupidly. "Yes, Iolaus is my best friend."
"He's always been there for us, hasn't he? Always ready to lend a hand, cover our back, even die for us. But why? What does he get out of this glorious friendship besides broken bones? Certainly not fame, or riches, or even a dry bed most of the time. So what motivates him?"
"Motivates?" Hercules made an effort to think. "He does it because he wants to. He -- we're family to him, Deianeira and the kids and Mother. He looks after them for me when I have to -- had to leave them."
"Yes, we were lucky he was around for Deianeira when we went off for weeks at a time, weren't we? That must have been hard for Deianeira to accept, our leaving her alone so often to go help strangers. She was very fortunate Iolaus was there to take our place. And it certainly relieved some of our guilt, knowing Iolaus could... give her what she needed."
Hercules struggled against the darkness as the relentless voice continued.
"And the kids were crazy about him, too, weren't they? Called him 'Uncle Iolaus'. He taught Aeson to catch a ball while we were away. He was the one who saw Ilaya take her first steps, too. He really doted on her, didn't he? Well, no wonder, she was a little charmer. A bit small for her age, but those big blue eyes and all that curly blonde hair -- where do you suppose she got those blonde curls from, anyway? Our hair is brown, and so was Deianeira's. Wasn't it splendid of Iolaus to track us down when she was born? Good thing he was at the farm when Deianeira's birthing pains began; he delivered Ilaya. It was a shame we missed her birth. We felt guilty about that, too, didn't we? But Deianeira encouraged us to help that one last village, so we went."
"I was planning to be back by the time Ilaya was born, but she came a month early," Hercules gasped, pulling desperately at the manacles, trying to escape the hateful voice, the smoothly insinuating words.
"Yes, so Deianeira claimed. And wasn't the midwife impressed by what a fine, healthy baby she was, considering she wasn't expected for another month."
"But I know Deianeira was only eight months pregnant, because I wasn't there nine months earlier," Hercules argued, then stopped, eyes widening in horror.
"Ahh, I see you're finally starting to get it," his other self said, watching him with cruel satisfaction.
"You weren't there -- but Iolaus was."
Hercules' roar of anguish shattered the stone walls, bringing them down on the laughing face of his tormentor. As he sank to his knees, the darkness reclaimed him.
"My dear, you've outdone yourself," Hera said, caressing her son's black hair. "Could any of it possibly be true?"
"Not a chance. Even if Iolaus had had the guts to pull it off, my dear brother is sickeningly devoted to the little runt. He could have caught them in bed together and still not have believed it -- not without a little encouragement. And what's a brother for, if not to lend that helping hand?" Ares' features wavered, then dissolved into those of Hercules. Only the angry eyes gave him away as he put his arm around his mother, laughing.
The darkness lapped at his mind and murmured in his ear, whispering to him of Deianeira's hands on Iolaus' body, Deianeira's long legs wrapped around Iolaus' waist, Deianeira's eyes drugged with the passion he'd believed was reserved for him alone. It took shape and became Iolaus, carrying Ilaya on one arm, the other around Deianeira, hand resting familiarly on her lush hip. She turned to Iolaus with an intimate smile as Hercules shuddered under the weight of their betrayal.
As he thrashed, trying to rid himself of the visions that tortured him, Theoris turned a tear-stained face to Iolaus.
"He's been unconscious for hours. Tell me what to do!"
"We need to get the fever down," Iolaus said matter-of-factly, hiding his own terror from her. He pulled away the drenched sheet that had wrapped itself around Hercules' shaking body. Wringing out a cloth in a basin of cool water, he began bathing his friend's frighteningly hot forehead. Without speaking, Theoris picked up another cloth and started on Hercules' chest and shoulders.
Hours later, Iolaus was hardly aware when the lamp flickered out in the wan early morning light. Finally he put down the cloth and stretched his stiff muscles. As Theoris entered with a basin of fresh water, he told her, "His fever has broken. I think he's going to be all right."
She flew to the bed, then turned to Iolaus in alarm.
"Why is he so still? Why hasn't he woken up?"
"It's okay. He's not unconscious any more; he's just sleeping now. Let's leave him to rest."
"But I want to be here when he wakes up," she objected.
Iolaus put a hand on her shoulder. "We're both dead on our feet. Neither of us is going to do him any good like this. I'm going to make up a pallet on the floor in here; you go get a couple of hours of sleep. Don't worry," he reassured her as she resisted. "I'll come get you if he wakes up."
Theoris closed her eyes, and a sob burst from her. Iolaus folded her in his arms and she buried her face in his chest, weeping uncontrollably. At last the storm passed, and he wiped her eyes.
"You okay now?" he asked.
She gave him a watery smile and nodded.
"You're all wet," she said with an exhausted giggle, pulling away from him to dry his chest with the hem of her dress. All at once, he became aware of how very good she had felt in his arms. As she left the room and he spread a blanket to lie on, he thought of her with Hercules at the pond, and sighed. His friend was a very lucky man.
Several hours later, Iolaus was awakened by the Elysian aromas of breakfast. His stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, and after assuring himself that Hercules' skin remained cool, he left the sleeping man and headed downstairs.
Theoris was humming as she broke eggs into a bowl. "When I looked in ten minutes ago, you were sleeping the sleep of the dead," she said to him.
How had he missed seeing how beautiful she had become? he wondered as he sat down.
"If the dead smelled your cooking, they'd wake up, too," he told her, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
"Iolaus! Was that an actual compliment?" she asked in mock surprise.
He wanted to inhale the fragrance of her, feel her skin under his hands. He wanted to kick himself for wasting so much time.
"I'm in a generous mood today," he said expansively. "I might even let you beat me in another knife-throwing contest later."
"Let me beat you?" she asked, tilting a pitcher of milk at a dangerous angle above his head. Suddenly her eyes lit up.
"Hercules!" she gasped, setting the pitcher down and running to him. "What are you doing up? Sit down this minute. How are you feeling? You look pale. You should be in bed! Let me look at your hand. Do you want something to eat?"
"Enough, enough," he told her, moving a little unsteadily to the table. He looked from her to Iolaus.
"What's going on here? You two at it again?"
"Iolaus and I have reached an understanding," Theoris replied, smiling at the blond man. Hercules pushed down the thought of another treacherous smile, and knew the darkness was still with him.
After breakfast he went to the pond to clean up, turning aside their offers to accompany him. He slowly pulled off his clothes, feeling the heat of the sun on his bare skin. Was it only two days ago that he had been here with Deianeira? He thought of that other heat, the heat of her body against his, her lips moving on his. Deianeira's dead, a small, still voice said from somewhere inside him. You were here with Theoris. Deianeira and Iolaus would never have betrayed you.
He shook the voice off and stumbled into the water. The darkness embraced him like a lover.
Theoris gazed unseeing over the garden, a faint smile curving her lips.
"What?" Iolaus asked, coming to stand beside her on the stoop.
She turned to look up at him, leaning back against the railing. Iolaus' hand itched to reach for the curl that caressed her cheek in the welcome breeze.
"I was just thinking how lucky I am," she told him. "A week ago, I thought I was all alone; I was afraid I'd be forced to marry Daneus. Now you and Hercules are here, he's going to be fine, and things are turning out just the way I always hoped they would."
Iolaus looked away. A week ago, he'd thought she was just Hercules' aggravating little cousin. This was not going to be easy.
"Hercules is a great guy," he said, trying to be happy for his friend.
"He's the best," she agreed. "I've adored Hercules since I was old enough to toddle around after him. I probably drove him crazy, but he never showed. it. I don't think he's ever raised his voice at me. Not even with major provocation," she added reminiscently.
"You, on the other hand, have been yelling at me since the day Hercules first brought you to our farm. I was ten years old; I was up in that tree, trying to get my kitten down."
"You weren't up in that tree for long. If I hadn't been there to catch you, you would have broken your neck. You were the most reckless kid I ever met. It's a miracle you survived to adulthood."
He scuffed the toe of his boot against the stoop, not wanting to think about how she made him laugh, how perfectly she fit into the curve of his arms.
She watched him, puzzled by his sudden glum mood. "What's wrong with you? I'd think you'd be overjoyed that Hercules is all right."
"I am," he said quickly. "Hercules deserves the best. He's smart, kind, loyal, compassionate, brave... big, strong, incredibly handsome, the son of a god..." his voice trailed off.
"Is there something you want to tell me about you and Hercules?" Theoris inquired politely.
He was still brooding over nature's lopsided distribution of assets when her meaning penetrated.
"Of course not!" he shouted, outraged at her unfeeling behaviour in the face of his misery. "What a thing to say! You are the most impossible, infuriating... I'm trying to tell you I'm happy for you, you... harpy!"
She threw up her arms in frustration.
"Wonderful!" she shouted back. "You're happy for me! Well, that at least calls for a brotherly sort of kiss of congratulation, wouldn't you say? To bury the hatchet and celebrate our civilized new relationship?"
The last thing he wanted to do was kiss her in a brotherly sort of way, but as he couldn't think of a way to refuse without seeming churlish, he leaned forward to give her cheek a chaste salute.
She turned her head, and he found himself kissing her lips instead. As they parted against his, he pulled her against him. She slid her hands under his vest, welcoming the tentative touch of his tongue.
Hercules watched them from the cover of the burned-out stable. I told you so, the darkness crooned. You stayed away too long. Now Deianeira wants Iolaus, and Iolaus can't resist her. What man could? They've humiliated you. They both deserve to die.
"No," Hercules whispered, and turned away as Iolaus lifted her into his arms and bore her inside.
Iolaus lay watching the late afternoon sun turning Theoris' curls to burnished copper. He lifted one from the pillow, admiring the way it clung to his fingers. He reached over and tickled her nose with it; she opened her eyes and smiled at him lazily.
"So I guess this means you aren't in love with Hercules after all?" he asked conversationally, tracing the curve of her shoulder with the curl.
"Well, I don't know," she said as her fingertips delicately followed the patterns the golden light painted on his body. "Hercules has never called me a harpy."
"You never flipped Hercules into a pile of pig manure," Iolaus retorted. His hand stilled. "What happened to him, anyway? He should have been back hours ago."
Instantly concerned, Theoris sat up. "Hercules!" she called. "Are you downstairs?"
Iolaus began to dress. "That fever nearly killed him," he said. "He should be resting." He turned to her, worried. "Do you think he came in and left again to give us some privacy?"
Hercules lay curled in the shelter of the stable wall and listened as they called to him. He wanted to get far away from them, but his legs didn't seem to have any strength. Oh no, the darkness sang. You mustn't leave now. You can't let them get away with this.
Iolaus found him first. Shocked at Hercules' condition, they brought him into the house and put him back to bed.
"I don't understand this," Iolaus told Theoris. "His eyes are open and he doesn't seem to have a fever, but he won't respond to me. It's like he's not in there."
"This is my fault," Theoris said. "I should have insisted on going with him instead of thinking about --" She turned away from him.
"Don't go there, Theo," Iolaus said, cursing himself for not watching Hercules more closely. "It's pointless to take responsibility for Hercules' decisions. He wanted to go alone. We couldn't have anticipated this. I'm not going to let you spoil what's between us with useless guilt."
Hercules lay helpless as Iolaus took Deianeira into his arms. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder, drawing strength from him. Hercules longed for the comforting darkness to envelop him. This time, though, it danced just out of reach. He shivered, listening to the two people he loved most in the world as they confessed their betrayal.
He awoke with a start as dawn brought its dim glow to the room. The paralysis had left his limbs, but the darkness had followed him out of maddening, bloody dreams. He welcomed it now, drew it around him to block out that other voice that told him over and over that Deianeira was dead, Aeson and Cletis and Ilaya were dead.
Deianeira wasn't beside him. He left the bed and went quietly down the hall to Iolaus' room, praying he wouldn't find her there.
She slept with her head on his shoulder, arm across his chest. Hercules watched Iolaus kiss her awake as she stirred in his arms. He thought the pain would stop his heart.
Iolaus looked up at his involuntary gasp. "Hercules! Thank the gods you're all right!"
"Yes, I can see you've been overcome with worry," Hercules said, rage slowly replacing his agony, drowning out the small warning voice. "When were you planning to tell me about this?"
Theoris reached for her robe, taken aback at his obvious anger. "What's wrong? We thought you'd be happy for us."
"Happy?" he repeated, approaching the bed, his eyes never leaving Iolaus. "No, I'm not happy. I don't share my wife with anyone, Iolaus. Not even you."
"Your what?" Iolaus gasped. "Hercules, you're still sick. Here, let us get you back into bed."
As he spoke, he pulled on his trousers and reached to take Hercules' arm. Hercules pinned him to the wall by one shoulder and doubled his fist, wanting to slam it into that hated, beloved face. She yanked at his arm futilely, trying to pull him away. After an eternity he dropped his fist and released Iolaus.
"I'm sorry, Deianeira," he told her, shoulders sagging. "It's not your fault you turned to Iolaus. He's a good man; he was there for you, and I wasn't. If it's what you both want, I won't stand in your way."
Theoris cupped Hercules' tortured face in her hands.
"Deianeira's dead, Hercules," she told him gently. "It's me, Theo. I'm here with Iolaus, not Deianeira. She loved you with all her heart, and she knew how much you loved her. You never let her down, Hercules; she was proud to be your wife, and she wouldn't have changed her life for anyone's, not even if she'd known how it would end. Do you hear me, Hercules? You have nothing to feel guilty about."
Hercules blinked, tried to concentrate.
"Theo," he said finally, forcing the darkness back with a mighty effort.
The darkness shrieked with thwarted rage and dissolved.
A wave of weakness washed over him as reality flooded back.
He sat heavily on the side of the bed, propping his dizzy head in his hands. At last he looked up at Iolaus, who stood gazing at him in wonderment.
"I'm all right now, Iolaus," he said. "Whatever it was is gone for good."
"It's not that," Iolaus told him. "I mean, good, I'm glad; but -- what just happened here? You thought Deianeira and I were cheating on you, and you apologize?" He shook his head. "You're either the most generous man who ever lived, or the craziest," he said.
Hercules shrugged, a little embarrassed.
"Knowing how I felt about you, how could I not understand if she..." he stopped, not quite finding the words he searched for.
"I guess it was just easier for me to believe you loved each other than to remember that she was dead," he finished simply.
Iolaus clasped Hercules' shoulder wordlessly, and Theoris, watching them, knew Iolaus understood exactly the gift he had just been given.
Ares slumped in Hera's throne, scowling blackly, then straightened. It had been fun while it lasted, he thought philosophically. Tough luck, old man, you're on your own.
He went in search of more rewarding prey.
Hercules gazed in dismay at the mountain of food before him. "I can't possibly eat all this," he protested. "I'll never get up from this chair."
"I can't help it," Theoris told him. "When I feel good, I cook."
"Well, we can't let it go to waste, can we?" Iolaus asked happily, trying to decide what to sample first.
"Maybe you two really were made for each other," Hercules said thoughtfully as he passed Iolaus the ham.
As they ate, they speculated on the source of Hercules' illness. He was convinced there was more to it than just hallucinations brought on by blood poisoning, a solution Iolaus favoured.
"I don't care how sick I was, I could never have believed that about you and Deianeira," he insisted. "Whatever it was just didn't feel like my own thoughts."
Iolaus' head snapped up. "Someone's coming," he said.
Hercules and Iolaus were waiting at the gate when Kriton rode up with his entourage.
"Hercules!" Kriton gasped. "Ares promised..."
Hercules looked at Iolaus. "You were saying something about seeing gods behind every bush?"
Iolaus shrugged apologetically. Hercules reached up a casual hand and pulled Kriton out of his saddle. Kriton struggled in his grip, grey with terror.
"The way I see it, you have two options," Hercules told him. "You can go home and leave my cousin alone, or you can keep making threats and spend the rest of your life watching over your shoulder for me. You choose."
He let go of Kriton, who scrambled back into his saddle. Hercules looked up at a bored Daneus.
"I'm sure you won't make the same mistakes as your father," he said.
"I couldn't care less about her farm," Daneus told him. "I'm going to sea."
He wheeled his horse around and followed his father away from the gate.
Theoris came running up behind them.
"Where'd they go?" she panted, fists curled. "I want to fight!"
"Sorry, kid," Hercules said. "I talked them out of it."
"You what!" she exclaimed, outraged. "Do you mean to tell me that I've been busting my... anatomy for days getting ready for this, and all you did was talk to them? What kind of heroes are you, anyway? I can't believe it! For years, I've been hearing about what a great fighting team you two are, and you talked to them? And don't call me --"
Iolaus pulled her into his arms and kissed her into silence.
"Congratulations, Iolaus," Hercules said. "I believe you've finally figured out how to get the last word."
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