* * *
"No! Wait! I'm here to help y…" Iolaus shouted, hand out to stop her, a kind of supplication as he started to back away.
But, the bow had been pulled and the arrow unleashed, even as he was begging her to listen. It caught him low in the left shoulder, the force of the bolt driving him flying back, off his feet, to land sprawled in the small clearing. He struggled for a moment, one leg bending at the knee, but then his body felt the full force of the blow, and he moaned as darkness crowded in.
She looked at his body with contempt, sniffing a little as she turned and loped away. She learned not to trust men, learned that they hunted her for her golden horns and hooves…this was one hunter that would not track her again.
* * *
Iolaus fought back to consciousness, one hand coming up to fumble at the arrow rising high above him, and he had no need to test it to know it was anchored deeply in his body. The wound itself was in a bad place, it had hit low, too near his heart, his lung. He could taste the salty metallic presence of blood in his mouth and he coughed, to clear his throat, to ease his breathing. But, the simple movement brought such a wave of pain that he cried out, his head spinning, his heart clenching with the power of it. The agony burst from the wound, radiating throughout his body, making it hard to think…to remember. Panting, he tried to master it, struggling to focus on where he was, what had happened.
Squinting against the fiery waves of pain, his teeth gritted to choke back another moan, his eyes scanned the clearing…and it came back to him. The Hind…gods, the Hind had shot him. She hadn't understood, had reacted instinctively to protect her own life, and he felt no anger toward her. He'd wandered too close, hadn't realized he'd come upon her, and there hadn't been time to explain…even if she would have believed him. And, why would she? Men were her enemy and the forest was full of hunters tracking her, hoping to kill her for the wealth she bore. The last Golden Hind. She'd acted with decisive courage, never wavering…if she had, she could as well have been the victim, had he been one of the others.
He couldn't blame her but swallowing against the agony, he wished he'd had time to explain.
Wished that he wasn't going to die.
Iolaus, a hunter, knew well that the Hind tipped their arrows in a poison that was always fatal. There was no antidote, at least none that mortal men knew. It was their single protection in a hostile world, the single defence that might, just might, give a hunter pause in the rabid quest for gold. He might get rich…but he might as easily die.
'Well,' he thought ruefully, 'this is what I get…for boldly striding in where a sane man…would fear to tread.' But, his wry attempt to accept the fate which had been spun for him only left him shivering with cold…or maybe it was the poison that was chilling him even as he felt as if he was burning up with fever. Or, maybe it was just the lengthening shadows that were creeping across the clearing as the afternoon waned.
His eyes sought the crystal blue of the sky, limitless…he loved the sky. The magnificence of it, the gift of it…its beauty and the secrets it held, especially at night. Secrets a skilled hunter learned to read almost as soon as he learned to talk. Focusing on the sky, its colours and mystery, he tried to hang on. Herc would be looking for him…couldn't be far away. They'd split up to search but were to have rendezvoused long before now if he was reading the shadows right…if it wasn't just the shadow of death that seemed to be creeping over him. He bit back another gasp as the pain knifed through him, making his muscles stiffen in reflexive resistance, the fingers of his right hand digging into the dirt to hold onto something, his left hand pressed against his chest.
Gods, oh gods…he'd never known pain like this before. It consumed him, overwhelming his senses, making him desperate for relief, even if the relief was death.
"Herc…" he choked out, but heard only a breath, a whisper lost in the rustling of the leaves in the light late day breeze.
'Have to…hold on. Have to…be here…when Herc comes…have to tell him…have to say…' he told himself, his thoughts broken into fragments by the need to fight the torment that cut to his soul. Darkness edged at his vision, crowding out the blue above, and he panted, dragging in air, fighting to survive long enough to see his friend one last time.
Was it the pain, or the grief, that burned in his eyes…he didn't know. Blinking, trying to hold onto that patch of blue above him, feeling the muscles of his body twitch in little spasms, tiny convulsions as the poison assailed them, he blew out puffs of air, concentrating on forcing his lungs to still pull in enough breath to keep going. 'Gods, Herc…hurry!' he thought with grim and heartbreaking determination. 'I can't…can't…hold on much longer….'
The agony was a living thing, sinking needle like fangs into his body, streaking like a fire burning wild through the pathways of his being, flaring, bursting inside, raging hotter with each breath. Disjointed thoughts and images cascaded through his mind. Moments of time, precious, hoarded in his memory, never to be forgotten…laughing boys playing in a rushing stream on a hot summer's day…good times of merriment in the company of the Argonauts…of quiet beside a cozy campfire, just out of the rain… moments of love…a glance that said more than words could ever convey…a touch of enduring friendship, the bonds of a lifetime…moments of triumph…of joy.
He clung to those fragments of his life, held tightly to them even as they slipped from his grasp, reaching for them…gods, he didn't want to lose any of them. The bits and pieces of his life, the flotsam of experience and relationships that had defined his being, his sense of who he was, why he lived. But, the monster that ravaged his body ripped at them, tearing them apart, scattering them like leaves in the autumn wind blowing cold with the icy chill of an endless winter.
"Herc!" he moaned again, knowing it was all slipping away, beyond his capacity to hold on. "Nooo…" he groaned, fighting it, trying to embrace the pain, wrestle with it…struggling with all he was to hold on just a little longer. The name a prayer, a last hope for meaning and peace, he whispered again through gritted teeth, "Hercules…"
* * *
Hercules had loped to the spot where they'd split up, knowing he was late in returning, surprised that his partner wasn't there, waiting impatiently for him. He called out, "IOLAUS!" but there was only silence. As his gaze landed on the traps his friend had only narrowly escaped with reflexes that had frozen him into place, the demigod felt a stab of fear. The forest was littered with such traps…oh gods!
"IOLAUS!!" he cried out again, turning to lope as quickly as he could through the forest and still read the sparse signs his buddy had left of his passing.
The shadows were lengthening, another hour gone, and still he hadn't found his friend. Something had happened to Iolaus, he knew it with a raw certainty that clutched at his heart. With almost frenzied urgency, he stepped up his pace, eyes raking the forest floor for sign…and he spotted the place where the Hind's hooves had cut across his buddy's path. Dropping to one knee, he studied the tracks, wondering… suddenly very afraid. His head came up, his eyes scanning the forest, seeing a small clearing not far ahead, in the direction the tracks had been moving.
Coming to his feet, he was frozen for a moment by a small breath of sound, hardly discernable over the rustling of the wind in the trees, little more than the whisper of a fading soul. But, Herc's soul had been listening, straining for some sign of his friend. And his soul heard.
"Hercules…."
Crashing through the intervening brush, Hercules raced into the clearing, looking wildly about and his heart lurched when he spotted Iolaus sprawled motionless, the arrow jutting from his upper chest.
"Iolaus?" he whispered unconsciously, as he rushed to his friend's side, dropping beside him in the dirt. Iolaus' eyes were open, staring up at the darkening sky, panting in short, shallow breaths, his face and body rigid with pain. Hercules reached out, one hand moving to Iolaus' chest, feeling the fiery heat spilling from his friend's body, hovering uncertainly next to the arrow, his other hand coming to cup his buddy's cheek gently. "Iolaus? Can you hear me?" he asked, his voice tight in his throat.
Iolaus' eyes widened a little, almost imperceptibly, at the sound of his voice…at his touch. Slowly, eyes clouded with pain and encroaching death shifted to find Hercules' gaze. A sigh of relief escaped Iolaus' lips, and he almost smiled. "Herc?" he breathed, then had to gasp again at the pain that seared through him.
"Hold on, buddy…you're going to be okay…I just have to fix your wound," Hercules replied, his words tumbling out, almost mindlessly, in his fear and urgency. Again, his eyes raked the clearing, and spotting what he needed, he paused only to squeeze Iolaus' right shoulder as he murmured, "I'll be right back."
Iolaus wanted to call him back, tell him it was hopeless, but Hercules was already gone, quickly gathering herbs and grasses with which to treat and staunch the wound. Iolaus' eyes shifted back to the sky, sorry that it seemed to be growing so dark…the sky fading away.
'Just a wound,' Hercules was saying over and over to himself and he grabbed handfuls of what he needed and wrenched small vines and plants from the earth. 'He'll be okay,' he told himself, moving with urgent, economical effort, rushing back to Iolaus' side. He had to break off the shaft and pack the wound as best he could, then get Iolaus back to the village, to the healer.
Kneeling again by his friend, Hercules dumped the handfuls of supplies he'd brought onto the ground beside him, ready to hand. "Iolaus," he said, his voice low, fighting to sound steady and confident, "I'm going to break off the shaft…it's going to hurt."
He was reaching for the slender shaft, when Iolaus gasped, "No…pull out."
Pausing, searching his friend's eyes that had again shifted to his, the demigod shook his head, "You'll bleed too much. We'll get the arrowhead out later."
"No," gasped Iolaus, struggling to lift a hand to Hercules' wrist, desperate to be understood. "Hind…shot me."
The blood drained from Hercules' face as he looked from the arrow to his friend's eyes, and he felt the burst of horror in his chest. In unconscious denial, he shook his head, but Iolaus choked out urgently, "Poison…"
Hercules felt a shudder ripple through his body as his now trembling hands reached out, one to rest at the base of the arrow, splayed across Iolaus' chest, to hold him steady, and the other grasping the shaft, hauling it out quickly, with sudden, indescribable loathing. Iolaus lurched and couldn't bite back the scream that rose from his throat, guttural and terrible, filled with agony. Hercules grabbed for the herbs, and the grasses, hastily piling them in and over the wound, clamping his hand down hard against the burst of blood that had followed the arrow from Iolaus' body.
How many hours had that poison been raging through Iolaus' body? How long could he last?
Holding one palm firmly against his buddy's chest, Hercules looped his other arm under Iolaus' neck and around his shoulders, lifting him gently, to help him breathe, pulling him closer to his chest, cradling him. "I'll get you to the village…" he muttered, still unwilling, unable, to fully accept the reality of what was happening.
Iolaus' head was braced against his friend's strong upper arm, his eyes searching Herc's, full of pain…and compassion. "No time…" he whispered. "No…cure…."
"NO!" Hercules protested, feeling the bite of treacherous tears in his eyes. "Don't say that! You have to hold on! Gods, Iolaus…please…you can't…."
"Not her…fault," Iolaus breathed, holding his friend's gaze. "She must be…scared. Didn't know…"
"Don't talk…save your strength, dammit!" the demigod commanded, his hand leaving the wound and coming to firmly but tenderly grasp Iolaus' face. "I'm not going to let you die!"
The pain in Herc's eyes hurt more than the poison that burned in his body…but his friend's touch brought the relief of love, like a balm that soothed his tortured soul. "S'alright…" he murmured softly, a smile of such innocence and sweetness on his lips that it shattered Hercules' heart.
There was so much Iolaus wanted to say, but he no longer had the strength. His eyes blazed with the memories, and the gratitude…poured out all that was in his soul into Hercules' eyes, willing him to understand…to remember…and to go on being the hero he was born to be. A gaze filled with pride in his friend, and thankfulness for the friendship…a blessing of boundless, unconditional love.
But…the poison was winning. He'd lasted as long as he could, held off the darkness longer than should have been possible and even as he filled his soul with one last glimpse of the friend who had defined his life, the darkness crowded in and his eyes drifted closed.
"No…it isn't alright!" Hercules snarled as he slipped an arm under Iolaus' knees, rising to turn and race back through the forest to the village. "Don't you quit!" he raged as he ran.
Hercules couldn't remember a distance that seemed farther, that took so long to cover. Unconscious, Iolaus could no longer suppress his body's moans against the agony that penetrated even the darkness that had blotted out awareness of all else. His lungs struggled for air, panting sharply…too shallowly. His muscles convulsed and spasmed in Herc's arms as the poison ripped into them.
The demigod clutched Iolaus tightly against his chest, his teeth gritted against the sharp, piteous cries of pain that lanced through his soul. His long legs stretched out to cover the ground as quickly as possible, his boots biting deep into the soft earth for traction as he lunged ahead through the darkening evening. His heart pounded with desperate fear while his mind reeled with fury that this had happened. Thoughts and emotions roiled in his mind as his feet ate the miles.
They'd come to help, to save the Hind…and she'd…she'd… It wasn't right! Iolaus didn't deserve this! Gods…there had to be a way to save him!
Hind's blood was fatal. NO! Not Iolaus…not…but how? HOW?
The woman! Ares' priestess! She could help…she had to help. He'd find her, beg her…she could save Iolaus! There was a chance… there was still a chance!
One desperate hope…one chance… Hercules thundered on through the deepening darkness of the night.
Shouldering into Hemnor's cottage, Hercules swiftly explained what had happened as he gently laid his insensible, agonized…dying…friend onto the cot. He touched Iolaus' fevered, weakly thrashing arms and body, feeling helpless, sick with what his friend was suffering. He didn't really hear what Hemnor was saying…wasn't really conscious of answering, his whole being centred on his friend, on Iolaus' struggle to hold onto life.
There was no time! He had to go!
With a last glance, a look that held his terror and love, his wish that he could stay, his wordless promise that he would return in time, he turned away, heading back into the night, to search for the only hope Iolaus had…the only one who could save him.
In a blur of desperation, driven to run with all the speed and power he possessed, Hercules raced to Ares' Temple…to the woman who held his best friend's life in her hands.
* * *