ONCE A THIEF
by Arianna
Note: This story was suggested by Suzanne, who gave me the plot-line and the objective…to bridge the arrogant, egocentric Hercules of the tv movie and flashbacks to the caring, responsible Hercules of the YH series and the later HTLJ incarnation of the demigod. She asked me to put words around it for her. I've used 'Lost…and Found' as the backstory, and in some ways, this could very much be considered a sequel of that story, of how Iolaus came to attend the Academy, and forms a trilogy with 'Hydras, Pumpkins and Fools, Oh My', which tells the story of how Jason came to see Iolaus as a friend.
* * *
Iolaus slumped back in the hard chair, twiddling the quill pen in one hand, as he tried to remember why he was here and why he should care about triangles and squares and how to calculate how long one side was. Who cared? He sighed, looking out the window at the perfect day, wishing he were in the forest somewhere, hunting or fishing or just hanging out. The animals didn't care about triangles…didn't care that he was stupid. The trees ignored him, but it wasn't personal, and the wind might whisper words he couldn't understand, but he doubted they'd be insults.
Cutting a quick look at Hercules, he sighed again, shaking his head. How could he have imagined that all his problems would be solved once he got here? But, then…he hadn't. He'd figured Hercules wouldn't be all that excited to see him. It was Alcmene who'd been so confident that everything was going to work out just fine. But, then, Alcmene always thought things would work out fine…it was her nature, part of her strength. Not as sure that life worked that way, the blond youth with the wild curls and smart mouth swallowed hard against the lump that appeared unbidden in his throat. Just what he'd need…to be caught all teary-eyed in class. Gods.
"Are we keeping you awake?" Fiddle-face's dry, ascerbic voice broke into his thoughts and he looked up to see the stern teacher actually standing right beside him, studying him as if he was an insect or something. Straightening, conscious of the snickers around him, Iolaus shook his head, "Ah…no sir. I was just trying, you know, to memorize that last theory about the isysosyl…um, triangle, sir."
"Isosceles," Fiduceous corrected him, his eyes narrowing skeptically. "And were you successful?"
There were more snickers as someone sneered just loud enough to hear, "Need a brain to memorize…"
His shoulders stiffening, aware that Hercules was rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically, Iolaus shook his head, embarrassed by his stupidity. "No sir," he mumbled, staring down at the pen in his hands.
"I thought not," the teacher observed mildly. "Stay after class and we'll see if we can't lodge a few facts under those curls of yours."
Miserable, truly hating this, Iolaus bobbed his head once, "Yes sir…thank you, sir."
The class droned on, and Iolaus tried to concentrate, but it just didn't make any sense to him. Even the words were incomprehensible…how could you learn something, or remember it, if you didn't even understand the language? He could feel the anxiety and hopelessness build in his gut, feeling trapped…scared that it would be like this for the next two years, until he graduated. If he graduated. And if he didn't…he'd go to prison.
He could run away…but he didn't want to. Didn't want to be a fugitive. Didn't want to be nothing all his life. Didn't want to prove his father right, and everyone else who believed he was a waste of good air. This was his chance, his only chance and he knew it. But…after only a week, he wondered if he was going to make it…and seriously doubted it.
Finally, it was over and the other students stood to amble out, free for the rest of the day. Some cut him disparaging, even pitying glances, but most just ignored him. Including Hercules, who just walked out without a backward glance, laughing at something Jason, Prince of Corinth, had just said. Iolaus watched them leave, a curious twisting in his chest. Herc and Jason were best friends now. Made sense…both were royalty in a way. Made sense that Hercules wouldn't want much to do with an ex-friend who was now only an embarrassment, someone to be tolerated for his mother's sake.
Fiduceous was studying the youth, a slight frown creasing his thin, olive skinned face. He didn't know quite what to make of this boy. Alternately sullen and class-clown, dull and bored with flashes of keen intelligence in his eyes. Discouraged, almost as if he was beaten before he'd started. The teacher knew something of the lad's history, all the staff did, and kept a wary eye on him. Cheiron might have been convinced he was a diamond in the rough, something possibly quite special, but the rest of the faculty were unconvinced. 'Once a thief, always a thief…' Fiduceous thought, then lowered his head, ashamed of himself. If what they'd been told was true, this lad might have had little option but to steal to survive. That didn't make him bad…but it did leave him at risk of believing there were easier ways of getting silver than earning it honestly. Well, it was his job to teach Iolaus enough to give him other options in life, to help him learn…no matter how much extra time it might take. Or how grudgingly Iolaus accepted his help.
Twisting his lips as he again regarded his student, he asked quietly, "When were you last in a classroom, Iolaus?"
"Yesterday," the student replied with a wry half-grin.
Quirking an unamused brow, the teacher shook his head. "You know very well what I mean," he replied sternly.
"Yes sir," Iolaus replied dully, looking away. "Two years ago," he sighed.
Scratching his cheek, the teacher nodded. That explained a lot. No wonder he was having difficulty keeping up. "All right, well that means you need to do some catching up. No time like the present to start," the instructor observed, pulling another scroll from the stack on his desk. Unrolling it in his finicky, birdlike way, he began to bring this student up to date with what he'd missed while he'd learned the lessons of survival on the streets.
Iolaus picked up his pen and began to make notes…these words, at least, he could understand.
* * *
By the time Iolaus escaped the classroom, it was time to go directly to the mess for dinner. His pack of scrolls and notes over his shoulder, he ambled into the large noisy hall, trying to look at ease. He joined the line that edged past the large pots of stew and piles of sliced bread, picked up his own serving and turned to find a place to sit. He spotted Hercules and Jason, with some of the other guys at a nearby table, and tried to catch their eyes, but it seemed he was invisible. Force his way in? Make his place? Or let it go? Tired, he decided to let it go, and moved to the back of the room, choosing a seat at a table that was still empty. Eating quickly, still a little amazed to find food so readily and plentifully available after having been hungry for so long, he thought this was probably his favourite part of the day. 'Sad. Really sad,' he thought with self-disgust. 'Little better than an animal who lives to eat and sleep.'
Sleep was his other favourite part of the day.
Finished with the relatively spartan meal, he carried his utensils to the counter for the kitchen staff, then hitched his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the mess into the cool evening air. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the stars that were only just becoming visible in the darkest part of the sky and sighed.
"Something wrong, Iolaus?" Cheiron asked from the shadows, startling him.
"Uh…no, sir…nothing's wrong. Just…uh…admiring the sky," Iolaus replied, embarrassed. There was something about the centaur that always made him nervous, as if the thoughtful headmaster could see right through him.
"How are you managing?" Cheiron asked, coming forward into the light that spilled out of the doorway.
"Fine," Iolaus lied. "Just fine. I really appreciate this opportunity…it was good of you to…"
But the centaur cut him off, raising a hand to stem the flow of words, hearing the nervousness, the anxiety, seeing the misery in the young cadet's eyes. "No need for gratitude. You earned your place here, more so than any of the others. You do belong here, Iolaus," the centaur said, his voice firm and oddly gentle beneath the stern facade.
Wishing he could believe that, Iolaus lowered his head and nodded. "Thank you, sir," he murmured. "Well, I've got some studying to do so…uh…if you'll excuse me…."
"Of course…" replied the centaur, moving out of his way. Cheiron watched the young cadet head across the yard to the barracks, frowning a little, sorry that Iolaus was finding it so hard to find his balance here. Turning his head to gaze into the mess, he rubbed his chin as he reflected that young Hercules wasn't helping as much as he and Alcmene had hoped he would. Which led the centaur to other thoughts, other concerns. The demigod had promise, and was essentially a well-mannered, basically good-hearted youth, but he, too, was hiding behind a façade of arrogance and self-assurance, trying to pretend his heritage didn't bother him. 'Youth,' snorted the centaur to himself. 'Thank the gods it doesn't last forever…'
* * *
Iolaus threw his pack under the bunk and flopped down, his hands under his head as he stared at the base of the bunk above him, his mind playing over the past week. His face twisted as he recalled how Hercules had greeted him, at first tentatively, then with a warm hug, as if he really was glad to see him. It had seemed genuine at the time, and Iolaus had felt a tightness in his chest, and the prick of tears in his eyes that Herc had seemed to forgive those terrible things Iolaus had said to him almost two years before. Rolling onto his side, his knees curled up, the youth recalled that conversation, the way he'd deliberately driven Hercules away…the hardest thing he'd ever done. Gods, it still made him feel sick, even after all this time. He'd hated hurting Hercules, but he hadn't had a choice…it was either that or risk his father hurting Alcmene. It was the beginning of a long slide into complete and abject misery.
Pushing away the thoughts of those terrible years in the streets, Iolaus again returned to that first day. Everything had seemed fine, better than fine…great. Herc had been glad to see him, everything was going to be all right, just like Alcmene had predicted…and then she left, and Hercules had to start introducing him to the other cadets. Well, there'd been no point in lying had there? Everyone would find out anyway, eventually. So, the introductions included the information of how Iolaus had come to be at the Academy, and word had spread quickly that he was a thief. 'Was', not 'had been'…they all still figured he was still a thief. Which wasn't the best way to make new friends with what seemed to be very rich, very upright and self-conscious fellow cadets.
Maybe Herc had been trying to make light of it all, when he'd brought him into the barracks and showed him to his bunk that first day, but the words had hurt. "Well, this is home," the young demigod had said, pointing to Iolaus' new bunk. "Try not to steal anything, okay?"
"Well, not on the first day, anyway…I like to look around first," Iolaus had quipped back with a forced laugh. If the words had hurt, Herc's look at that comment had made his gut twist…a kind of 'are you serious?' expression of worry that told Iolaus a lot about how little trust really did remain between them. "I'm kidding, Herc," Iolaus had hastened to assure him with a wink and a grin. "It'll be at least a month before I steal something…promise!"
It had gone downhill from there.
Hercules had been at the Academy for a year, and was one of the two most popular guys there. Jason, Herc's best buddy, being the other most popular guy. They were both smart, really smart, excelling in class as well as they did in the gym, taking on all challengers, no matter what the contest was, and winning. By contrast, Iolaus' dullness in class, and his awkwardness in the gym, afraid of actually hurting someone with his more practical and effective street-fighting skills, was mortifying for the demigod. This misfit was supposed to be his old friend, and everyone there knew it. They'd look at Iolaus and then at Hercules and shake their heads, wondering what had been wrong with the demigod before he'd arrived at the Academy. Within a day, Hercules had begun to distance himself, maybe unconsciously, maybe because his own apparent confidence was too thin by half to withstand the silent mockery…but it left Iolaus isolated and fair game for the so-called teasing that the others tormented him with.
There were the real cards, the ones who made a great show of hiding their valuables whenever Iolaus happened to be standing nearby. Then, there were the wits, who'd pick up on his most mortifying utterance of the day in class and recount it to anyone who'd listen over the evening meal. The jocks would amuse themselves tripping him with their staffs and lances, and the bigger ones had a great time tossing his lighter frame to the floor…so sorry to once again miss the mat. The teachers watched him like hawks waiting to dive when he faltered, making certain he was never left completely alone somewhere, like the library, where he might steal something. Oh, it was a lot of laughs all right. A great time was being had by all.
Iolaus had fought back the only way he knew how…with his mouth. Quipping back, trying for a dark humour that inevitably fell flat with this lot, mimicking some of their less endearing mannerisms in mockery…well, he hadn't made many friends this past week. Hadn't made any as a matter of fact. And his efforts to defend himself had only driven Hercules further away, ashamed of him, embarrassed by him.
And that was the worst hurt of all.
"Shouldn't you be studying?" the demigod's critical voice cut into his thoughts and he realized the others had trooped in from the mess, several overhearing Hercules' remark.
Iolaus looked up at his old friend and saw only condemnation in those eyes. "Not tonight…I'm tired," he replied.
Shaking his head, Hercules sighed. "You could at least try…it's not like you don't need to, you know."
"Gee, really?" Iolaus replied, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk as he sat up. "And here I thought I'd been doing so well."
"Sarcasm won't get you the grades you need to pass," the demigod lectured, just a tad too self-righteously. "You don't want to end up in prison."
"Why not?" someone snickered. "It's where he belongs."
Iolaus winced at the words, and looked down at the timbered floor, biting his lip to choke back the angry words that had risen in his throat. "Yeah," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone, as he stood to stride out of the barracks, his pack of scrolls slung over his shoulder. "Maybe you're right."
Hercules watched him go…not sure whether Iolaus was answering his comment or the one made by Aneas.
"Why do you even bother, Hercules?" Jason asked, a slight smile of commiseration on his face. "The guy's a loser."
Hercules cut a quick look at Jason and then glanced away, frowning. Wondering if Jason was right. There was no question that being around Iolaus made him feel uncomfortable in ways he didn't really want to think about. Because, if he thought about it, he'd have to realize that Iolaus wasn't the one who'd been acting like a jerk. Shrugging, pushing away the vague feeling of guilt, the demigod dropped onto his own bunk and pulled out the scroll he needed to study for tomorrow's class.
But, he couldn't concentrate on the academic notes. Sighing, he tossed the scroll aside and stood, avoiding Jason's eyes as he left the dorm. He knew what he'd see in that candid gaze…worry that he'd be hurt, irritation that he was wasting his time. Once he got outside, he stood a minute, wondering where Iolaus might have gone. Glancing at the darkened building that held the classrooms and library, he shook his head…Iolaus wouldn't willingly go back inside when he could be out in the air. Hercules checked the stables and, sure enough, Iolaus was brushing down one of the horses…he'd always had a thing about horses that Hercules could never understand.
"Thought I'd likely find you here," he said, as he ambled inside.
Iolaus looked up, his expression wary, as he replied, "Did you want something?"
"Yeah…I wanted to see if you were studying. Iolaus, this isn't going to help you make the grade," Hercules observed, pointing at the horse.
"What do you care?" Iolaus replied listlessly. "Way you've been acting, anyone would think you'd be glad if I flunked out and disappeared…the sooner the better."
"What is wrong with you?" Hercules snapped back, stung, knowing that Iolaus' jibe was at least partly justified. It wasn't as if he'd had much to do with someone who was supposed to have been his friend this past week.
"What's wrong with me?" Iolaus slammed back, tossing the currying brush onto a shelf. "Me? You're the one swaggering around, the great Son of Zeus who can do no wrong, most popular guy at school, stuck up and arrogant! You think I haven't noticed the pained looks you give me? Haven't noticed you're ashamed to even know me?"
"Well…what's to be proud of?" Hercules replied, sarcastic. "Gods…you're an idiot in class…and you've got two left feet in the gym! You mouth off at everybody, thinking it's so funny. Well, it's not. You need to try a little harder to fit in…especially given that…" But, his voice trailed off, and he looked away.
"That I'm a thief, you mean?" Iolaus finished for him, bitter and tired. "You can say it to my face. Gods know, everyone else does."
"You've got a chip on your shoulder about ten feet high," Hercules replied. "It's your own fault if the guys give you a hard time. You don't make any effort to get along with anyone…"
"Like they want to get to know me?" Iolaus protested, stung. "Gods, Herc…you know me, or you did. And what they see is that you don't want to have anything to do with me. And if you don't, why should they?"
"So…it's all my fault now?" growled Hercules, disdainful. "Don't you think it's about time you took responsibility for your own problems instead of sloughing the blame off on someone else?"
Iolaus stilled for a moment as he stared at Hercules, swallowing hard. The contempt in Herc's eyes, in his tone…the words…all of it only reinforced what he'd believed about himself all his life. That he really was worthless…a loser. Herc was the only one who'd ever made him feel any different. The only one who'd seemed to see something more in him. Well, maybe except for Alcmene, but she hardly counted. It was her nature to be kind, especially to kids. But…if Herc really believed everything that had ever happened to him was his own fault…gods. Take responsibility? What had he been doing for the past two years but keep himself alive? Shaking his head, blinking to clear his eyes, Iolaus asked with a tight voice, "Why did you come looking for me?"
The demigod shrugged, wondering the same thing. "I guess I wanted to see if you were finally doing something to help yourself…studying. Or if you're really just plain hopeless."
"And?" Iolaus asked, his voice a little hoarse.
Looking around the stable, at the pack thrown against the wall, at the horse, Hercules replied with a tone of disgust, "You seem determined to fail. Maybe you are hopeless." With that, he turned and strode out of the stable and back to the dorm. He'd been wasting his time. If Iolaus wouldn't help himself, nobody else could do it for him.
Iolaus watched the only person in the world he'd ever considered a friend walk away. His jaw was tight, and he had to concentrate to bring his breathing back to normal. Was he hopeless? Maybe…but he'd be damned if he'd give up and yet give everyone the satisfaction of being proven right about him. Grabbing up his pack, he stomped across the yard, following the wall around to the back of the Academy. If he needed to study, then he'd study until it was too damned dark to see.
* * *
Hercules stormed back into the dorm and strode down to his bunk. Angrily he flopped down on it and picked up the discarded scroll. He'd tried…but Iolaus was the most aggravating, stupid, stubborn…he forced his mind back to the scroll, determined to forget his concerns about his…what? Old friend? Sighing, he tried to read, but his concentration was definitely off, his mind a turmoil of memory and emotion.
His mind kept flitting around, going back to that day when Iolaus had sent him packing. Iolaus had called him 'a lost puppy', and a 'freak'…had ridiculed Hercules' insecurities about his father…had said he'd had enough and wanted Hercules out of his life. So, Hercules had run away from him…had to run before he lost it and cried. Iolaus was his best friend, had been anyway until that bleak day…just about his only friend. Other memories swirled, of seeing Iolaus on the streets of Thebes, wondering at first why his friend avoided him, then caring less, figuring Iolaus had chosen his life…gods knew why. Chosen to live as a homeless creature on the streets…chosen to steal. It didn't make any more sense than Iolaus turning on him, but after a while, the hurt got healed over by anger and then a forced indifference. Until the numbness of indifference became real…most of the time.
But, he sighed to himself, the truth was he'd never gotten over missing his best friend, not in the whole two years. Coming to the Academy had helped distract him, and making friends with Jason and the others had helped sooth his constant insecurities about being so different. But…in odd moments, Iolaus would pop into his mind, with a memory of one of their pranks, or of the times they'd spent fishing or hunting…or of those terrible words, and all of it would make Hercules ache with loneliness and a sense of…being lost?
Irritated, the demigod pushed his fingers through his hair and again tried to focus on the symbols on the parchment…but his mother's eyes and voice intervened. She'd brought Iolaus here after he'd saved her life, risking his own. She was certain they didn't know the whole story of what had happened two years ago, but Alcmene believed it had something to do with Skouros, Iolaus' father. Hercules sighed…all the bruises, the broken bones over the years…he'd pretended to go along with Iolaus' stories about being clumsy, but he wasn't that stupid. Iolaus' father beat him. And Iolaus was ashamed to admit it.
At first, Hercules had been glad to have Iolaus back in his life, glad to try to get back what they'd had… but, he'd been nervous, too. The trust they'd shared almost from the first moment they'd met had been shattered, and that had hurt Hercules more than Iolaus, more than anyone really, ever knew. The demigod knew he'd built a kind of shell around himself…and was ashamed to know that sometimes he probably did seem downright arrogant. But, it was just to make sure others kept their distance, that no one got that close again, so close they could hurt him that badly.
He knew he hadn't been there for Iolaus during the past week…worse, had been part of the mockery and disdain the older youth had been suffering. Part of him wanted to reach out and grab with both hands and a full heart the friendship they'd known…and part of him was afraid. What if Iolaus turned on him again? What if Iolaus started to use his quick wit and ready jibes to ridicule him in front of the others…share those secrets kids had, about their deepest fears, or most humiliating moments? How would he live that down? He was making a place for himself here, and in his own insecurity, he was afraid to have it threatened. If Iolaus wasn't the trusted friend he'd known for years, then he was very much a threat…and so Hercules had pulled away, uncertain. In his youth, and his own hurt, not knowing what to do. Afraid to risk.
Was Jason right? Was Iolaus a loser? Or had he just had really, really bad luck? Luck? The demigod snorted as he tossed the scroll aside. Luck didn't have anything to do with it. Unless Fortune governed whichever parents everyone got…what a scary thought that was! 'Damn it!' the demigod thought, again pushing his fingers through his hair, wondering if he should go back to the stable again, try to build some bridge between them. But, he shook his head. It wasn't like Iolaus was trying all that hard, either. Gods, that mouth of his could be hard to take! Where did he get off with all the cracks he made about everyone? No wonder the other guys weren't taking to him…it was his own fault. And did he have to act like such an idiot in class? Couldn't he work harder? Did he think it was going to be a cake walk? And talk about useless…the Iolaus he'd known years ago could handle himself, was naturally athletic, even graceful, but this guy was hopeless in the gym. Awkward, always seeming to be tense, off-balance. Maybe Jason was right. Maybe the Iolaus he'd known didn't exist anymore. Maybe he never had…and it had only been Hercules' own loneliness that had made him seem so special.
Sighing, the demigod stared up at the bunk above him. His memories swirled again to earlier days…to the sound of a wild giggle and mischievous grin…to how he'd felt whenever he'd been with his best friend. Happy. Always happy. Just to be with Iolaus…and a lump swelled in his throat as his eyes pricked and burned. Sighing, Hercules realized that it wasn't just that Iolaus had seemed special…he'd made Herc feel special, made him feel safe. And loved. And, gods how he missed that. How he needed someone who wasn't awed by the fact that he was the Son of Zeus. Someone who just genuinely always seemed to care about him, like him, for who he was inside.
Tomorrow. Hercules promised himself that beginning tomorrow, he'd try to build a bridge between them for old times sake. Because, if the Iolaus he'd once known was on the other side of the chasm between them, building that bridge was worth it. More than worth it…the friendship they'd once had, the trust and what sometimes almost seemed a union of spirits, an understanding that hardly needed words…that was worth anything… everything.
Then, he thought, why wait for tomorrow? Rolling off his bunk, he again left the dorm, oblivious to Jason rolling his eyes as he saw his best friend stride past. The Prince sighed. 'Got to give him credit for trying,' Jason thought. 'The gods know, he's about the only one here who thinks that jerk is worth bothering with.'
* * *
Iolaus had headed out behind the main buildings to a small courtyard in the back of the Academy. There was a spot up on the wall there, under a spreading oak, that he was beginning to think of as his refuge. Nobody ever came back here, and up on the wall, he felt as if his past was behind him and his future in front, if he could only find the way to survive for the next two or three years. Life was out there. Freedom. Hope. He pulled the scroll Fiduceous had loaned to him out of his pack and settled down to do some studying.
He wasn't really aware of the time passing or the light beginning to fade. If anything, he was only aware of a kind of excitement…this stuff really made sense. And he could begin to see the point of being able to estimate the side of a triangle from its other two sides. Lifting his head, staring out across the darkening field, his features scrunched up as he imagined opposing forces lining up…imagined trying to estimate distance and size, blinking as he tried to dredge up the formula old Fiddleface had written on the board that day. He didn't quite get it, yet…but with a tentative half smile, he thought he was close. Maybe it wasn't all hopeless…maybe…just maybe…he could do this.
As the growing shadows penetrated his consciousness, he realized it must soon be time for 'lights out' and he'd better get back to the dorm. He had enough troubles without being hit with a rules infraction…and kitchen work was even less appealing than the classrooms. He was stuffing the scroll back into his pack when he heard the snap of a branch close by and froze. The sound had come from outside the wall, not from the Academy. Someone was out there…sneaking around.
Listening, his eyes raking the darkening evening, he finally picked up movement about thirty feet away, close to the wall and he squinted to make out who was there…looked like someone small…odd. "Who's there?" he called out, not loudly but with enough volume to be heard without giving away his location.
There was a sudden silence and the shadow stilled. Then, a tentative response, "Iolaus?"
Startled, recognizing the voice, the youth called back, "Zack? Is that you?"
Sighing, the kid came closer, out of the wall's shadow. "Gods, Iolaus…I wasn't sure how I was going to find you in there. Didn't want nobody to know I was here…"
Frowning, looking around, Iolaus slipped off the wall to face his unexpected visitor. "What in Tartarus are you doing here? And, how'd you even find me? Or get here…it's a long way from Thebes!" Iolaus was really concerned about the kid…Zack couldn't be more'n ten years old…what was he doing wandering around alone all over Greece. "What's wrong? Why did you come looking for me?"
The scruffy kid, dressed in rags more than recognizable clothing, dirt smudged on his face, his hands filthy, made a face. "Ronnus sent me with a message for you," he said as he held out a crumpled and smudged fragment of parchment.
* * *
After checking the stables, Hercules scouted the grounds for Iolaus…pausing when he heard voices on the other side of the wall behind the Academy. Frowning, he spotted Iolaus' pack up on the wall, and he slipped closer, wondering who the other cadet was talking to…and why he was outside the grounds. A definite breach of the rules, especially for Iolaus, who was only here on probation.
Gripping the edge of the wall with both hands, he lifted himself silently until he could see Iolaus and his companion. Frowning, Hercules shook his head. It was one of the street kids from Thebes. What in Tartarus was he doing here? And then he heard the kid say, "Ronnus sent me with a message for you." And he saw Iolaus reach out to take the message and start to read it.
Slipping back down to the ground, Hercules felt disgust well up inside. It figured. Iolaus quite clearly chafed at the confines of the Academy and his life here. No doubt he'd be very happy to get a message from an old 'friend'. Well, fine…Hercules turned and stomped back to the dormitory. Iolaus was a big boy…he could make his own choices. If he was found outside the wall, it was his own fault.
Back in the dorm, Hercules once again dropped onto his bunk. Wondering what was in the note. Determined to find out…he'd ask as soon as Iolaus returned for the night. Gods, surely he couldn't be so stupid as to keep up his contacts with his old gang? He'd wind up in prison for sure. And, for all his mixed-up, confused feelings, the demigod really didn't want that to happen. This was Iolaus' last chance. Surely he wouldn't blow it.
Round and round his thoughts swirled until before he knew it, 'lights out' had been called. Surprised, Hercules looked up and noticed Iolaus' bunk was empty, the cadet not having returned. Shrugging, the demigod turned over onto his side, crossing his arms. If Iolaus was too dumb to come in before he was caught, fine, who cared? He knew the rules…if one of the teachers caught him out after 'lights out,' it would mean kitchen duty. Well, someone had to clean the vegetables and wash the dishes.
Maybe that would teach him to start making an effort…maybe. Forcing his thoughts, his worries away, Hercules finally drifted off to a troubled sleep.
* * *
Iolaus felt himself go cold as he read the note and his hand shook a little as he crumpled it and pushed it into his belt. "Where are they?" he asked Zack, looking out across the fields.
"They're all here…we came down from Thebes together. There's an old stone barn about a mile from here, to the west, on a deserted farm. They're waiting there," the kid replied, sighing. He knew what was in the note, sort of. Though Iolaus had been trying to teach him how to read before the older thief had gotten caught, he still didn't know enough to make out the whole message. But, he'd heard Ronnus talking to the older members of the gang, had heard their cruel laughter.
Iolaus nodded absently. He'd seen the place when he and Alcmene had passed it on the way to the Academy. Nothing else around for at least a mile in any direction. It would be the kind of place Ronnus would choose for this. "Okay…tell him you found me and I got his note," he said dully, his throat tight.
"They said you had to be there by dawn," Zack replied, looking worried, hoping Iolaus wouldn't come.
"Yeah…that was in the note," the youth replied, looking down at the little kid, smiling at him sadly. "Go on…they'll be waiting for you." He wished there was another alternative to sending Zack back to that bunch, but there wasn't. At least with them, he wasn't alone, and he was too young to be alone. There was no place for kids like Zack, no one who worried about them, cared about them. So, they did the best they could.
"Okay," the kid replied, hesitating a moment more, then turned to scamper into the night.
Iolaus slumped back against the wall, then slid to the ground, his knees up, his head in his hands. Sick. Scared. Ronnus was calling him back to face the 'Court of Peers'…a lofty name for a mockery of the law of the land. The magistrate's court wasn't acknowledged as legitimate by the street people. The magistrate's court was for the rich, the powerful, for the 'normal' people who lived in cottages and grand houses, who belonged in society. Upstanding members of the community. The 'Court of Peers' was for the street people, where they judged their own, against their own code. Ronnus was calling him to be judged for what he'd done in Thebes, turning against his comrades to save Alcmene from them…getting them arrested and sent to prison.
Swallowing, Iolaus knew what being summoned meant. That the judgment would be guilty. Guilty of betrayal was how they'd find him. And he knew what the sentence would be…death. All things being equal, he'd have been back over the wall, back secure inside the Academy and Ronnus and his crowd could wait until Olympus crumbled for him to submit himself to that.
But, all things weren't equal. The note had been clear. Either he showed up or there would be retribution. The judgment would be rendered whether he was there or not, and sentence would be carried out. If he wasn't there to do penance, then they'd punish the other guilty person…the other one who'd helped capture his two former colleagues in crime and had handed them over to the magistrate.
Alcmene.
They'd kill Alcmene.
In the note, Ronnus had urged him to think about that…to think about his old buddy Hercules being an orphan, his 'dear, sweet, much loved mother dead'…to think about what they'd do to her and what that would do to Hercules. And the note promised Iolaus that the reasons would all be clear. That she'd died horribly because of him. It finished with a promise that they'd kill Hercules too.
Tears blurred Iolaus' eyes and he thought again about triangles. Herc at one point, Alcmene at the second, and Ronnus at the third. The distance between two of the lines was the key to determining the length of the third line. Two lines of love, the only love he'd ever known. Threatened with destruction because of him. Lifting his head, Iolaus puffed out a wry, bitter laugh. The formula was right. The two lines of love gave him the exact, the only, answer. From the moment he'd read the note, he'd known what he'd have to do. There was no question of returning to the Academy, no fragment of hope of any kind of future in his mind.
With nothing in the future, his mind turned to the past. Sitting with his arms around his raised knees, his back against the cold stone wall, he remembered…the last time his father had called him by his name. The years he'd spent trying to make sure his family, his mother and two younger sisters, always had food on the table when his father was away, missing school to hunt, to fish. Remembered when his father was home, and flinched away from the memories, choosing instead to remember Hercules…the shy kid, trembling in the school yard…the eager, cheerful friend who was always ready to try anything. The stone fort they'd built and their dreams of being heroes together. The warmth of Alcmene's house…and the way she'd hug him and tousle his hair.
Iolaus felt a deep ache in his chest, a welling of misery and loneliness that rose in a lump to his throat and blurred his eyes. He had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling as he remembered how he'd had to chase Herc away, to protect Alcmene from his father's murderous wrath. Lowering his head to his knees, he remembered the last years of cold and hunger, of desperate fear and loneliness. Gods, he'd despised himself for stealing, even when it was only food, let alone the jewelry and other valuables. But, he'd survived. He'd grown, a little, got a lot tougher. Took care of himself and the smaller kids. Tried to teach them stuff…talked to them about how they could work for a better life when they got a little older, that they didn't have to be outcasts all their lives. Tried to give them a hope he couldn't feel for himself.
Gods, the days had been long, and the nights longer. Burning hot in the summer, freezing in the winter's chill. Filthy all the time…hungry all the time. There was never enough food. Running, hiding. It was a wonder any of them survived. The stealing had been bad enough, but there had been worse ways of getting silver. Shuddering, he pushed those thoughts away. He'd drawn the line at killing…and that's what had gotten him here. Knowing those other two were going to kill someone that night, but not knowing who. Following them and being horrified to discover Alcmene was their targeted victim. Bursting in, fighting them, being wounded…but saving her. Being caught then with stolen silver in his shirt…facing prison.
Only, miracle of miracles, to find himself with the chance of lifetime instead.
Some chance. It had lasted a week. A week of still being an outcast, despised even by the only friend he had. Herc had been right earlier. He was hopeless. His whole life was hopeless. Always had been. He'd just been too stubborn to accept it, too foolishly hopeful, to dare dream it could one day be more. He'd been wrong. This was the end of the line.
The equation of his life.
The distance between two lines was the key to the third. At least he wouldn't die for nothing. He'd give his life for love though neither Herc nor Alcmene would ever know it. Would likely never know what ever happened to him…just that he'd disappeared, thrown away the chance he'd been given. It didn't matter, except he hated that they'd be hurt by it. He knew he was going to give his life for the only thing that really ever mattered. He was going to give it to save the ones he loved.
He hadn't noticed the cold of the night…he felt colder inside than out. When he noticed the gray half-light of the pre-dawn, he pushed himself up from the ground and sighed. Without looking back, he walked away from the Academy to the west. It was only a mile. It wouldn't take long…he'd make it before dawn.
* * *
Hercules stretched and rolled over, blinking as he came awake and gazed at the bunk across the aisle. Empty. Frowning, he focused and realized it was still rumpled like it had been last night when Iolaus had taken off to the stables. The demigod swung his legs over the side and sat up, pushing his fingers through his hair, unable to believe Iolaus had stayed out all night. How dumb was that? But, then, remembering the other kid, the note…the fight they'd had in the stables, he felt hollow and his breath caught.
Pushing himself to his feet he shoved past the other rising cadets, hurrying to get outside, and then he loped around the side of the building to the back courtyard.
Iolaus' pack was still on the wall where it had been last night.
Pulling himself up onto the wall, he stood and looked around, his eyes raking the countryside, from the other side of the wall to the forest beyond the fields.
Nothing.
Iolaus was gone…he'd left. Run off. First chance he'd had, he'd gone back to that scum, back to the life of a thief. 'Once a thief, always a thief,' Hercules thought bitterly, furious to think he'd cared, that he'd hoped….
Well, so be it. Jumping down off the wall, he grabbed the pack and stormed back around the building, heading to Cheiron's office. Seething, he marched in and dumped the pack on the desk in front of the startled centaur. "He's gone, run off," Hercules growled in disgust.
"What are you talking about, Hercules?" Cheiron asked, reaching out to touch the pack, recognizing it.
"Iolaus…one of the kids from his old gang came by last night, gave him a note…I…overheard them talking outside the wall," Hercules stormed.
"And you didn't confront them?" Cheiron demanded, his voice cold.
"No," snapped the demigod. "I figured it was just a note…and I'd ask him about it when he came in. I never even considered he'd just throw it all away and run. I…I really thought he'd try for something better than that. I fell asleep…I didn't realize he never came back until a few minutes ago."
"I see," Cheiron replied distantly. Looking down at the pack in his hands, he frowned. He, too, had thought Iolaus would try for something better. Shaking his head, he murmured quietly, "I'm sorry."
"Yeah…so'm I," Hercules replied bleakly, wondering why he wasn't angry any more…just sad. And empty. Sighing, he turned away and left the office. Jason had been right after all. Iolaus was, very definitely, hopeless.
* * *
The blazing crescent of the golden orb was just rising over the hills in the east when Iolaus strode up the rutted track to the barn. As he'd made his way to his fate, he'd decided how he would face it. No begging, no pleading…it would be useless and it wasn't his style anyway. Might as well go out as he'd lived, mouthy to the end. Though he'd've laughed disparagingly if anyone had told him he was possessed of dauntless courage, it was no more than the truth. Courage…and a rare integrity…combined with an awe-inspiring capacity to love with his whole heart and soul.
Ambling into the open barn as if he hadn't a care in the world, he stood a moment with his thumbs hooked in his belt, slouched a little insolently, framed by the golden light behind him as his eyes adjusted to the dimness inside. Yep, they were all there…all the guys anyway. Looked like they'd left the girls back in Thebes. He was glad of that…it was bad enough they'd brought the younger boys. Kids shouldn't have to see what was going to happen here today. Seven guys older than him, and he reflected absently, all quite a bit bigger. Five about his age, old beyond their years. And three who weren't much more than babies, though they'd yell and pout if he ever told them that.
Taking a breath, he nodded at Ronnus, a disparaging half-smile playing about his lips. "So…decided to see a bit more of Greece did you?"
"Uh huh," the older youth replied, as he swaggered toward Iolaus. "Had some business in the area that couldn't wait."
Blowing out an insolent, bitter laugh, Iolaus shook his head as he watched Ronnus approach, took in the air of 'lord of the manor'. "Enjoying being in charge are you? Well…enjoy it while it lasts. Mal won't be gone long, and when he's back, you'll be nobody again," Iolaus observed with contempt. Malthius had been the head of their little gang for the last couple of years…up until three weeks ago when things had gotten a little too hot for him in Thebes and he'd had to leave town for a while, until the authorities forgot about him again. It was too bad, really…things wouldn't have gotten so out of control with Mal in charge. He shied away from murder, said it was guaranteed to get the kind of attention they neither wanted nor needed. The older boy wouldn't have countenanced this charade either…he'd always taken an interest in Iolaus, looked out for him…saved his neck more than once. He'd not be happy when he got back and heard about this.
But…he wasn't here, and those were the breaks.
Unruffled by Iolaus' contempt, considering it beneath his notice, Ronnus stopped a couple of steps away and waved his victim ahead of him, deeper into the barn. Shrugging, Iolaus continued inside, noticing they'd been busy preparing for his arrival. They'd fashioned a table of sorts from a slab of wood and a couple of stoved in barrels, and found rickety stools they'd use as chairs. While Ronnus and his two favourite cronies took their seats as the 'judges', the others ranged themselves to one side as the 'jury'. Iolaus turned to face the table, standing with his legs apart, his arms crossed as he gazed toward his accusers. "Well?" he demanded. "Are you going to get on with it?"
Smiling coldly, Ronnus nodded. "Iolaus of Thebes, you stand accused of betraying your brothers…"
"They weren't any brothers of mine," the youth cut in with a disdainful sniff.
But Ronnus continued as if Iolaus hadn't spoken, "your brothers Meritus and Analeus. You ambushed them, attacking them willfully while they were in pursuit of their lawful business…"
Iolaus snorted. 'Lawful…yeah, right,' he thought disparagingly.
"rendering them unconscious. You bound them and held them until the magistrate arrived. Your actions resulted in their sentencing to prison. What say you?" Ronnus finished grandly.
Iolaus quirked a brow. His head lifted, his eyes stone cold and his voice dripping with contempt, he replied, "I say they were animals who intended to molest and murder an innocent, defenceless woman. They deserved worse than prison."
"The woman was fair game…any of the 'righteous' are fair game for turning their faces against us," Dante, the youth to Ronnus' right objected.
"The woman was like a mother to me," Iolaus replied, unrepentant. "How many of you would stand aside and watch two animals abuse and kill your mother?""
The shot hit and a few shuffled, looking away…those who remembered mothers who'd cared about them, once…before Celesta stole them away.
"We have no mothers, no fathers, no kin but ourselves…that's the code," Rafe, the youth on the left of Rannus proclaimed. "You betrayed your 'family', your brothers…"
"And I'd do it again, in a heartbeat," Iolaus affirmed steadily, meeting the eyes of his accusers with cold deliberation.
"You stand condemned by your own words…you admit your guilt freely," Ronnus observed, smiling with satisfaction.
"I do," Iolaus replied with a shrug. "If that's how you define guilt. I call it simple decency."
Turning to the jury, Ronnus finished the mockery of a trial. The verdict was a foregone conclusion. "How say you?"
"Guilty." "Guilty." "Guilty." And on it went, all but the three youngest having a vote…it was unanimous.
'What a surprise,' thought Iolaus, swallowing, hiding the fear he felt, though it tightened in his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Nodding sagely, Ronnus turned back to Iolaus. "You have heard the verdict. You are guilty of betrayal of your brothers. I sentence you to death."
Iolaus nodded a little, his hands falling to his sides as he shifted his stance slightly. "Fine…kill me then, but don't expect me to make it easy for you." They'd kill him, that was a given, but he'd be damned if he'd just stand there and wait for it. When he'd been a kid, playing heroes with Hercules, they'd always pretended they'd go out fighting…and that's what he was determined to do. He'd hurt some of them before they got him…they'd remember this, that his death hadn't come cheaply, that he'd made them pay. Besides, pragmatically he knew if he could goad them into a quick kill with a knife, it would be an easier death than letting them torture him first.
If he was going to die, then he wanted to die and be done with it. Life hadn't been that great anyway.
His defiance wasn't unexpected. Iolaus had faced every one of them down at one time or another over his foolish sentimentality… 'protecting some skirt from being robbed, an old biddy,' one remembered, 'that no one else could care less about.' 'One of the younger kids,' another remembered, when he'd decided to mete out his own brand of discipline and Iolaus had objected. Standing up for himself, when they'd tried to bully him at one time or another. Had beaten them, too, every single one of them…one at a time. But now there were twelve circling him, some pulling lengths of chain from their shirts and wrapping them around their fists.
As they paused before the attack, Ronnus reminded them, "Remember…no head shots…we want him to be awake for this…and no knives…we're not in that much of a hurry."
'Great,' thought Iolaus blowing out a long breath, his muscles tensing for the battle. But, they weren't that disciplined and he knew it. If he could get them mad enough, they'd forget the plan. Not waiting for them to attack, he yelled and charged…straight at Ronnus. Diving into a roll, he swept out a leg, bringing the bigger youth down hard and Iolaus slammed a fist down on his enemy's nose, feeling a satisfying squish as blood spurted.
Not lingering to enjoy it, he quickly rolled away from a kick launched at his head. 'Oh how quickly they forget,' he thought with a grin, sweeping up with all the force of his body behind his fist as he ploughed it into Dante's face, smashing the cheekbone. Whirling back straight into a guy who'd grabbed him from behind, Iolaus jabbed back hard with a sharp elbow, winding the other kid, breaking his grip. Ducking a punch, he slammed out again with his fists, splitting the skin over Rafe's eye, then dropped to roll again, trying to get away from the others who were crowding too close.
But, there were too many…he'd done better than he'd expected as it was. But he didn't quit. As they converged upon him, he kicked and punched, swore and scratched, bit an ear that got too close to his mouth, taking blow after blow until someone grabbed him from behind and held him while others pounded into his ribs and gut. 'Gods…those chains are brutal,' he thought even as his breath caught and he gagged, choking, spitting out blood, his chest on fire. As he doubled over, someone…Dante he thought, brought up a hard, sharp uppercut, catching his jaw with a chained fist, and his head slammed back, stars spangling a sudden darkness as they let his arms go and he crumpled to the dirt floor. They took their boots to him then, kicking him as he rolled weakly, still trying to resist, to get back up on his feet…but he could scarcely breathe…dazed, almost blind with pain…and he finally subsided, curled on his side, absorbing the blows until he prayed for the darkness that finally came.
When he came to, he gasped with the shock of the agony that burned through his body. But, gasping was a mistake…shattered ribs raked a lung and he coughed, choking a little on his own blood as it bubbled up into his mouth. Disgusted, he spat it out…giggling a little weakly to realize he'd gotten Ronnus in the face. The enraged bully ploughed a fist into his gut, cutting off the brave insolence and Iolaus swung back on the ropes that bound his arms and held them over his head. Gasping, he looked up and saw the ropes had been looped over one of the rafters, and he was hanging with his toes just touching the ground.
Shaking his head to clear it, he turned his gaze back to Ronnus, then raked the others who had grouped around him. "Having fun?" he taunted, though his voice was rough and hoarse.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Rafe snarled as he punched Iolaus in the kidneys.
"Lots," Dante echoed, swinging into a kick that caught Iolaus in the middle of his back.
"How about you, Iolaus? Are you having fun?" Ronnus sneered.
Taking a deep breath, gauging the distance, knowing this would likely be his last shot, Iolaus tightened his abdomen and brought his legs up, surprising the too confident leader, landing a tight double kick against the other youth's chest, knocking him backward and down. "Yeah," breathed Iolaus. "I'm doing okay."
Furious, Ronnus rolled to his feet and strode over to a stack of dried wood in one corner of the barn. Grabbing up a solid length, he strode back, breathing hard, wanting nothing so much as to pound this insolent runt into mush. The others were silent as they watched Ronnus haul his arm back, holding the stout log as thick as their arms like a bat. Iolaus dragged in a breath, vowing to himself that he would not scream and waited for it.
The solid length of wood smashed against his side and he thought he'd black out from the rush of sheer agony that surged through his body. But, he managed not to scream, though he grunted against the horrific pain. He felt another blow thud into him, then a sharp jab with the end of the log into his gut, making him wretch and gag, blood filling the back of his throat until he felt he might choke on it. The fourth blow, against his back pushed him over the edge, into the darkness and he grabbed hold of it, hoping it wouldn't desert him again.
* * *
Hercules found it hard to concentrate that day, his mind wandering, wondering how far Iolaus had gotten since he'd left the night before. Wondering where he'd gone. Even Iolaus couldn't be so stupid as to have headed back to Thebes. Grimacing, the demigod wondered what he'd tell his mother. She was going to be heart-broken. At the thought of his mother's anguish over a good-for-nothing thief, Hercules felt his anger grow again. She deserved better. She'd believed in Iolaus when everyone else, everyone, had given up on him. Getting him out of a prison sentence…giving him the chance to attend the Academy. And what had Iolaus done to show his gratitude? Run off. First chance he'd gotten.
Jason couldn't help but notice Hercules' abstraction as the day wore on. Finally, he put into words what all the other cadets were thinking. "Let it go, Hercules. He's not worth thinking about."
Hercules cut a glance at Jason, then shook his head. "I just can't believe he was so stupid, giving it all up. The last chance he had."
"He's a loser, Hercules," another cadet chimed in as Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Forget him."
His jaw tight, his nostrils flaring as he blew out a breath, the young demigod nodded. They were right. It was long past time he forgot about Iolaus, forgot the kid he once knew. That kid didn't exist anymore and might as well be dead.
* * *
He woke slowly the next time, groggy, panting for breath, moaning with the pain until he remembered dimly where he was and what was happening. 'Damn it,' he thought weakly. 'I'm not dead yet.' Blearily, he realized he was soaking wet and then another bucket of water crashed over him, rousing him further. Swallowing, keeping his head down until he could collect his wits, he noticed that they'd stripped him and he was hanging naked…they'd pulled the ropes tighter, too, and he was now dangling a foot off the ground. Gods, would this never end?
Judging by what he could make out of the light and shadows inside the barn, he figured he must have been out for a while…must be getting on to early evening. He sighed…they were a patient lot, he'd give them that. In no hurry to finish, they'd wanted to be sure he was fully conscious before they worked him over again.
Another bucket of water splashed over him, cold, making him shiver involuntarily…letting them know he was conscious.
Letting them know they could move on now, to the last act. The next time he passed out, he wouldn't be waking up.
Ronnus shook out the whip he'd brought from Thebes. Long, thin, it would cut like a blade and flay the skin from this worm's body. A feeling of power filled him, the power of life and death…the power to kill. He flipped it back, then with a hard, vicious twist of his wrist and smooth movement of his arm, he brought it forward with a snap that cut the air…and sliced into Iolaus' back, right over the wound in his shoulder than had not yet fully healed.
Surprised, unprepared, the lash shocked a startled guttural cry from him. Tears flooded his eyes as he clamped his jaw tight, determined that they'd hear no more from him. He'd forgotten the wound, amidst all the other hurts. He'd kept his shirt over it at the Academy, hiding it from the others, knowing it was healing. Cheiron had caught him once, alone, rubbing his shoulder and had forced him to the infirmary where he'd changed the dressing. Alcmene had told him how Iolaus had been stabbed defending her. Iolaus didn't know that as he'd stood behind the youth as he worked on the healing wound, the centaur's lips had thinned and he shaken his head. If she hadn't told him, he'd never had known…this kid just didn't know how to complain, and he sure had no idea of how to ask for help.
The next lash brought Iolaus' mind back to his current hideous reality. Gasping, choking back the scream that had risen to his throat, he kept his head down so they couldn't see his face…couldn't glean any sick satisfaction from the mask of pain he knew they'd see. Again the lash fell and again. He could tell they were taking turns, each getting a lick in before he passed out again. Having fun. Enjoying this. He swallowed, in his daze of pain and desperation he still wondered how anyone could do this to another human being. Wondered if they even had souls, or if they'd been born without them. Monsters that passed for ordinary people.
The lash whipped across his chest and he groaned, panting for air, forcing back the urge to beg them to just kill him and be done with it. It'd be over soon, and begging wouldn't end it any quicker. Would only amuse them…and he was providing enough amusement without that. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of something better than this to focus on.
The lashes fell with monotonous but slow regularity. They didn't want him passing out. Oh no, they wanted him to feel each lash stripping the skin from his muscle, and muscle from bone. Iolaus exerted all that he had left to drift away from this last horrible nightmare of life, losing himself in the haze of agony, drifting…drifting back to the aspects of life he'd loved, holding on to them for a little longer. His favourite fishing stream, sparkling and gurgling in the sun. The deep glades of the forest, silent and primeval, with the scents of pine and good earth. Alcmene's kitchen…warm bread fresh from the oven…Alcmene washing his face and hands, giving him a quick hug, before she'd let him have a slice slathered with rich, thick honey. Hercules… splashing in the creek, catching a fish 'his way'. Laughing as they tumbled, wrestling in the long, sweet grass. Herc smiling at him, light and love in his eyes. Playing at the fort, killing imaginary monsters, beating back warlords and evil mercenaries…facing all comers, back to back.
Back to back…a tear slipped down Iolaus' cheek as he drifted into the darkness.
But, they whipped him still…would continue to whip him until he was dead.
Zack had left the barn when Ronnus had shaken out the whip, the ragged note clutched in his hand, the note that had fluttered from Iolaus' belt when they'd stripped him. He sobbed, moaning in misery with each snap of the whip that echoed from inside. Unable to watch, he'd staggered outside, helpless to stop it….helpless. Gritting his teeth, a desperate fury in his eyes, he started to run…away from the horror… toward the Academy. He was helpless…but he knew where help could be found.
Iolaus was right…right in what he said during his 'trial'. They were animals. And Zack couldn't stand it anymore.
* * *
The tattered, filthy child raced through the Academy gates, shouting his head off for Hercules. His face streaked by tears, he looked wildly around the nearly deserted yard, seeing a strange cadet come toward him.
"Hey, kid…take it easy!" Aneas called. "What's wrong…why do you want Hercules so bad?"
"Where is he?" Zack panted. "I need him. RIGHT NOW! WHERE IS HE?"
"Okay, okay, I'll get him…wait here," the cadet said placatingly, raising his hands. Hysterical waifs weren't his thing. Turning, he loped to the messhall, calling as he reached the door for his comrade. When he saw Hercules coming, he turned around and almost fell over the kid who'd followed him.
"What is it?" Hercules asked, then stopped when he saw Zack, recognizing him. "What are you doing here?"
"Please…you have to come with me…you have to help Iolaus," Zack cried, his whole body tight with tension and the need to run back to the barn. Hercules was Iolaus' friend…he'd help. He had to help!
But, his face a frozen mask, Hercules shook his head. "Iolaus made his choices," he said, his voice cold. "He can live with them." He half turned to go back into the mess, only to find that Jason and several others had followed him outside.
Horrified, Zack had grabbed the demigod's arm, pulling on him. "NO! You don't understand…" he sobbed.
Hercules turned back, pulling his arm away. "I don't know what you want, and I don't care. Whatever trouble Iolaus has gotten himself into this time isn't my problem," he said, his voice tight.
Shocked, Zack gazed up at the tall youth wordlessly for a moment and then he spat out in rage, "He said you were his friend. He said you were the best person he'd ever met…would ever know. That you were different…decent…that you had a good heart."
"Yeah, well, thieves don't get to know many decent people," someone drawled.
His eyes sparking with fury, Zack stood his ground, not in the least intimidated by the cadets who loomed over him. "He only stole 'cause he had to…to feed us, so we wouldn't starve. What do you care? What do you care that his father nearly beat him to death, driving him out of his home? What do you care that he had nowhere to go…."
"That's not true," Hercules protested. "He could have come to my place…he knew that. He was always welcome there, but he didn't want it." But he frowned. He hadn't known that was why Iolaus had left home.
"You are such a jerk!" Zack sneered. "He told us…the only time I ever saw him cry…once after he'd seen you in town, he told us that he'd driven you away, couldn't ever face you again. You want to know why, hero? Because his father had threatened to kill your mother if Iolaus ever saw you again! He gave up everything for you. And now they're killing him…because he saved your mother's life…because they would have killed her if he hadn't gone to them by dawn today. All for you…and you could care less. I hate you! I hate you!"
Tears were steaming down the child's face as he glared up at Hercules and the rest of them. "All of you. I hate all of you. So righteous with your warm houses and parents who love you. Rich…with food to eat and clothes for your back. I hate you all! Iolaus is worth more than any of you, all of you. May the gods rot your souls."
They were stunned by his vehemence…and by what he'd just told them. Shocked, his thoughts tumbling in his mind, Hercules didn't get it at first…and then it hit him with the force of a thunderbolt. Just as Zack turned to leave, the demigod reached down and grabbed his arm, roughly turning him back around. "What do you mean, they're 'killing' Iolaus?" he demanded, his voice harsh…suddenly very scared.
Cheiron's voice cut across the yard. He'd just left the main building and noticed the cluster of cadets and the thin, bedraggled child…heard Hercules' last terrified shout. "Hercules! What's going on?" he yelled, cantering toward the group.
"In the deserted barn…a mile away," Zack replied scathingly to the demigod's question. "They're whipping him to death."
"Get your weapons and follow me!" Cheiron ordered as he swept the child up onto his back. While the others raced to the dorm, Cheiron lunged into a gallop, Hercules right beside him, as they tore past the gates and across the fields to the abandoned barn.
* * *
Streaking up the rough track, they saw two little kids huddled by the wall, sobbing in horror at what was happening. They'd been made to come. Made to watch. 'To make you strong,' Ronnus had told them. But, Iolaus had always been the one who looked out for them…and they couldn't bear to watch him brutalized, mutilated, as he was tortured to death. They'd staggered out of the barn, violently sick, but had no where to go, no where to run to…no way to help.
Cheiron barely broke his stride as he reached back and took Zack's arm, dropping him by the other two young boys. "Stay here!" he ordered as he thundered on into the barn, Hercules right behind him.
They'd taken the young hellions completely by surprise, overpowering the much smaller and ill prepared youths, smashing them back against the walls, dropping them to the floor. Cheiron had pulled the whip from the hand of its wielder and thumped the kid over the head with its handle. Maddened by fury, Hercules had lashed out wildly, pounding out his guilt on anyone who came within arm's reach. The twelve wretches hadn't stood a chance against their combined wrath and in less than two minutes they were all lying sprawled unconscious on the floor.
The other cadets had just raced into the barn, where they froze in horror. Cheiron and Hercules looked up at the same time…at the bloody wreck of a human being who hung suspended in front of them. "Merciful goddess," Cheiron breathed, shock bleaching his features as he stared for the space of a moment at the flayed skin, the blood flowing in runnels down Iolaus' legs, dripping from his feet to the ever-widening red pool on the earth beneath his body. Hercules wretched and doubled over, sick to his soul, oblivious to the similar reactions of the other cadets framed in the doorway.
"Help me," Cheiron ordered harshly as he moved forward to support Iolaus' body. "Hercules…break those bindings."
Gasping, Hercules straightened immediately, and viciously tore the ropes apart as Cheiron wrapped one arm around Iolaus and reached for a pulse. Blood bubbled on Iolaus' lips as his head fell back against the centaur's shoulder, his face gray with injury and shock, mottled with bruises. "He's still alive," the centaur murmured, scarcely able to believe it. Scooping Iolaus into his arms, Cheiron turned and bolted for the door, scattering the dazed cadets as he thundered by them, back to the Academy. With every beat of his hooves, he prayed with all his soul to the goddess he cherished. 'Artemis…help me! Help me save this innocent child!'
* * *
In his haste, Cheiron battered down the door of the infirmary with his hooves and lunged inside, where he laid Iolaus on a padded table in the centre of the large, open room. Hercules had paused for a moment by the well, to grab a bucket of water, then had raced into their well-equipped treatment centre, dumping some of the water into a basin and grabbing up rags from the cupboard as he hastened to Cheiron's side. Words, questions, were locked in the demigod's throat. Would Iolaus live? Could they help him? He couldn't ask…was afraid of the answers.
The centaur grabbed a rag from Hercules' hand and dipped it into the basin, turning to clean the wounds, hastily, but his touch was gentle. As he worked, he could see and feel the evidence of the beatings, and he gritted his teeth against his silent wrath, uncharacteristically hoping they'd killed the beasts who had done this. Hercules set the basin down on the small work table next to them, and he too soaked a rag, moving to work with Cheiron, steeling himself against the horror of what he was seeing, focusing only on doing what he could for Iolaus.
The other cadets clattered in…or some of them. Others had stayed to tie up the twelve animals who'd tortured Iolaus mercilessly, then dragged them to Corinth, to the prison there in the palace dungeons. Jason had thought to bring the three youngsters back with him…wishing he could comfort them, but having no words. The cadets were all shocked into speechlessness, the vision of Iolaus dangling in front of them haunting their thoughts. Zack's furious words echoing in their ears.
They'd thought Iolaus a thief. Had mocked him…written him off. Hadn't given him a single chance. If they had, he might have asked them for help…not faced this alone. The young brutes from Thebes had tortured Iolaus…but every cadet there knew they shared the guilt of it.
They'd thought him a thief…a no good, useless vagabond who'd been foisted upon them, taunting him, ignoring him, making him unwelcome.
And they'd just learned he was the bravest, most noble soul they'd ever meet in their lives.
* * *
It took more than an hour to clean the wounds, and treat them as best they could with salves and herbs before binding Iolaus in long strips of linen cadets had torn in anticipation of Cheiron's demands. For all of that time, except for the tearing of the cloth, there wasn't a sound in the infirmary…only the ragged, shallow breathing of the cadet on the table. Teachers, curious at the sudden activity, wondering what was going on, had wandered in, and stayed, standing grim and tense as they watched Cheiron and Hercules work over Iolaus. Though he hated to bind the ruined skin around Iolaus' body so tightly, the centaur knew he had no choice after he'd found the broken ribs and had gently manipulated them back into place. The only mercy was that Iolaus was so deeply unconscious he didn't seem to feel the pain. The skin that was still intact was mottled with bruises, and Cheiron worried about internal injuries. Iolaus' wounds were beyond his power to heal…perhaps beyond the power of any mortal, but he had to try everything possible.
"Jason…would you fetch the healer from your father's palace…we need him," Cheiron asked quietly. With a tight nod, Jason turned and loped out of the hall. Moments later, they heard the sound of hoofbeats as he raced from the stables, riding bareback past the Academy gates, his white-knuckled fists gripping the chestnut horse's mane.
Turning to gaze at the rest of them in turn, Cheiron said, his voice strained, his face haggard, "All of you…go. There is nothing you can do here. But, if you believe in the gods, pray for Iolaus. His life is in their hands."
Each one gazed a moment longer at the cadet they'd all spurned, then silent, they left the room. All but Hercules. He'd turned to gather cushions from the cots around the edge of the large hall, and was slipping them behind Iolaus' back, to raise him a little…to help him breathe.
"Hercules…" Cheiron began, but the demigod cut in. "I'm not leaving him," he said hoarsely, his muscles taut with tension.
The centaur studied the devastated cadet for a moment, then nodded wearily. "I'll send for Iolaus' mother…" he murmured, turning to the door.
Again, Hercules interrupted, though his eyes never left Iolaus' face. "No one knows where she is," he informed his Headmaster, his voice hollow. "She disappeared with her daughters about a year ago."
Cheiron sighed as he looked back. "Should I send for your mother?" he asked.
Hercules swallowed and nodded. "Yes, please…she'd want to be here," he replied quietly, unconsciously lifting a hand to lay it tenderly on Iolaus' bandaged shoulder. He heard the clip of the centaur's hooves as he left the room, leaving Hercules alone with…his friend. His best friend…though he'd not remembered that for too long… had forgotten too easily.
Tears flooded Hercules eyes and his lips trembled as he choked back a sob. Sinking to his knees, he curled his fingers over Iolaus' hand, and laid his forehead against his friend's bare arm as he whispered brokenly, "I'm sorry, Iolaus…oh gods…I'm so sorry."
* * *
Cheiron returned a short while later, but by then blood was already seeping through the bandages. Together, he and Hercules tore more strips of linen and set about removing those that were soiled, reapplying the salves and herbs to the still seeping wounds as gently as they could, and then they rebandaged Iolaus' limp, unresponsive body. Given the agony of those wounds, the boy should have been crying out in pain and his lifelessness worried Cheiron greatly. When they were finished, the centaur made a herbal tea to combat infection, though the warrior knew it was inevitable. The barn had been filthy…the wounds too severe.
As they fed it to Iolaus, Hercules supporting his head and shoulders, Cheiron patiently tipped a little at a time passed Iolaus' slack lips, wiping away the liquid that ran down the youth's chin. Suddenly, the small cadet began to cough and choke, bright blood frothing at his lips. Terrified, Hercules pulled Iolaus higher into his arms as he looked up at Cheiron, hoping there was something they could do. "Just hold him," Cheiron said, with a calm he didn't feel. "Keep his shoulders elevated, yes, like that…his head on your shoulder."
Finally, Iolaus gasped as his throat cleared and the uneven, rasping struggle for breath resumed. Hercules closed his eyes and swallowed, trembling a little in reaction…in relief when Iolaus quietened. "Is he going to die?" he whispered then as he stroked Iolaus' sweat-matted curls back from his face.
"Probably," Cheiron replied, knowing Hercules knew that as well as he did.
He studied the tall cadet, his head cocked a little to the side as he stood with his arms crossed. There was no trace of the cocky, even arrogant, confident Son of Zeus. Just a very frightened, pale, grieving youth. "What happened between the two of you, Hercules? What came between you?" he asked, only knowing from Alcmene that the two cadets had been best friends from childhood. But, he'd seen no evidence of that friendship during the week Iolaus had been at the Academy.
The demigod flinched a little, remembering Cheiron hadn't heard any of their story…and certainly nothing of what Zack had told them less than two hours ago. Hercules bit his lip and blinked back tears as he held Iolaus securely against him, his eyes never leaving his friend's face. Clearing his throat, he replied softly, "When we were kids…Iolaus was my best friend. We did everything together…were hardly ever apart. I knew his life at home wasn't easy…his father, Skouros, was a general, away a lot and the family was poor. But, Iolaus never complained, ever. Just did what he could to hunt for food…he was only seven when I first met him and he'd already taken on the job of being 'the man' of the family. Anyway…I guess I knew his father was hard on him when he was home…but Iolaus wouldn't admit it. Just said he'd tripped over his big feet, or fell from the roof…or whatever could explain away bruises or a broken arm. I let it go…I knew he was embarrassed and I didn't know what to say."
Swallowing, Hercules cut a quick look up at the centaur, then back at Iolaus as he tightened his grip protectively. "Anyway, almost two years ago…Iolaus chased me off. Said some pretty mean things to drive me away. I didn't know why…didn't understand what had made him so mad at me. I found out later that he'd shown up on the streets of Thebes…begging for work at first, and then stealing food from the market. He avoided me…then I avoided him. I was hurt. Angry. I came to the Academy and didn't see him for almost a year until my mother brought him here. We never understood why he didn't come to us if trouble had gotten so bad at home he couldn't stay there any longer. Mom always felt bad about it… worried about him. But, I…I told her to forget him, that he'd gone bad."
Hercules stopped and took a deep breath. Swallowing, his voice cracking, he continued, "I didn't know… not until today when that kid told me…I didn't know. Skouros threatened to kill my mother if Iolaus ever saw me again. Forced Iolaus to drive me away…and then almost beat him to death that same night." Looking up at Cheiron, his eyes blurred with tears, he whispered, "The note…the note I saw him get last night…"
The centaur nodded, remembering what Hercules had told him that morning.
"The kid said the note told him…they told him they'd kill my mother if he didn't go to them by dawn. He knew…he knew they were going to kill him…" Hercules choked out, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Iolaus…he…he went anyway…to save my mother's life…." The demigod's head bent over the head of his friend as sobs broke through his efforts at control.
Cheiron's gaze dropped to the floor as he blinked against the burning in his own eyes. He wanted to tell the stricken cadet that this wasn't his fault…but he wasn't sure that was entirely true. Alcmene had told Hercules that Iolaus had saved her life less than two weeks ago, but that hadn't made the demigod forgive his old friend for the rejection he'd suffered, hadn't won back the trust that had been lost. Hercules hadn't helped Iolaus find a place at the Academy…hadn't asked about the mysterious note. Had jumped to conclusions, made assumptions that fit with his own rationale for not being the friend Iolaus had needed for days, if not years. Had he been more welcoming…had he bothered to ask about the note, Iolaus might have confided in him and this might not have had to have happened.
It was tragic. There was no other word for it. Iolaus would likely die for the love he felt and his need to protect Hercules and his mother. And, if he died, Hercules would never recover from the guilt and shame of it. Gazing at Iolaus' face, Cheiron wondered at what reserves of strength and courage this small man, for that was what he was, a man, for all his young years…what reserves he must have had to have survived all of that, to face the impossible choices and make the decisions that would safeguard those he loved at the risk of his own life. Sighing, the centaur hoped the well of that courage and resilience was bottomless so that there'd yet be enough left for Iolaus to fight his way back, even from the edge of the river Styx.
It was a few minutes later when Cheiron heard the small scuffling sound at the door and turned to see three small boys, their faces pinched and white, staring past him to the youth in Hercules' arms. His gaze softening, he waved them in and, hesitantly, they entered. They looked a little cleaner, having been bathed at his direction, and they all wore oversized shirts that hung to their ankles, belted with strands of rope around their wastes. "Did you get something to eat?" he asked kindly, his voice startling Hercules, who only just then noticed their arrival.
"Yes sir," Zack replied politely. Though they hadn't eaten much…too scared and worried to be hungry. "How is Iolaus," the lad asked, a tremor in his voice.
"Alive…thanks to you," Cheiron replied with a strong tone of approval in his voice. "We're doing all we can to keep him that way."
"I should have come sooner," Zack murmured, taking a deep breath. "I was scared…but I should have come for help before…."
"You came…that's what matters," the centaur hastened to assure him. The last thing this child needed was to carry a burden of guilt that was never his for the rest of his life. "Iolaus will be proud of you when he finds out that you led his rescue."
"I don't care about that," the boy replied stonily. "So long as he gets better."
"He never screamed…not once," one of the other boys whispered as he stared up at Iolaus, then looked from Hercules to Cheiron. "They did terrible things to him…and he never screamed." It was one more way that Iolaus had shown them he was worthy of being their hero, the only person in their young lives they respected, or loved.
"He took care of us," the other waif offered, eyes wide with grief, wanting them to know about their friend, to understand what a good person he was, not like those other guys in the barn, so they'd take good care of him. "Made sure we got enough to eat, even if he did without himself. And…he wouldn't let us steal… stopped the others from beating us when we wouldn't. Said we were too young…"
"And, he tried to teach us how to read and figure sums…so's we'd have a chance, he said, a chance for work when we got older. Work that'd pay good…not just common labourers. Iolaus said we could be anything we wanted to be if we tried and believed in it enough. He said…he…" but the tyke broke off in tears, gulping.
Cheiron moved to lay a steadying hand on the child's shoulder, his other hand brushing the still damp curls of the others. "Iolaus was right…everything he taught you was right. And…it's alright to cry when you're scared and worried about someone you love," he said gently, and the one in tears curled against him.
"Can we stay here… 'til we know…if he's going to be all right?" Zack asked. "We don't want to be no trouble…and we'll stay out of the way…." Biting his lip, blinking hard, trying so hard to be brave and strong, he couldn't continue as he trembled with emotion.
"Of course, you can stay…I wouldn't let you go. You're our guests…and when you do leave, it's going to be to go to families I can trust to take the proper care of you. Understand?" the centaur replied, his voice kind but firm. He wanted them to know that there was no question but that they were safe now.
"Thank you, sir," Zack managed to whisper, a tear escaping his lashes and slipping down his cheek. Not really believing the stuff about the families…who'd care about them? But relieved to know they didn't have to leave right away. He just couldn't go without knowing if Iolaus…but he couldn't finish the thought, too frightened that his desperate hope wouldn't be fulfilled. He'd delayed too long. He should have gotten help sooner. If Iolaus died, he knew it would be his fault.
Hercules had been watching, listening. All the time he'd been here at the Academy, thinking he was pretty hot stuff, Iolaus had been looking out for these kids, protecting them…teaching them as best he could. Gazing at the children, at Zack in particular, he saw the shadows in the child's eyes that he knew must also be in his own. Horror. And guilt.
"Zack," the demigod called softly, "come closer…it's okay. Iolaus is sleeping and you won't disturb him."
Avoiding Hercules' eyes, the boy crossed the room to stand beside the table. He lifted his hand to lay it on Iolaus' as he gazed up into his hero's battered face, wondering how he could face the world, face a life of his own, if Iolaus died.
His voice pitched low for Zack's ears only, Hercules said, "Cheiron's right, you know. The only chance Iolaus has is because of you. This wasn't your fault…don't ever think it was! You were brave to come here alone… braver still to tell us all off. We deserved it…everything you said. And we'll never forget it. Iolaus would be so proud of you."
"I…I want to be just like him, when I grow up," Zack murmured, flicking a look up at the demigod, half defiant…half a plea for understanding.
Hercules nodded as he looked down into his best friend's face. "So do I," he whispered, lightly touching Iolaus' bruised cheek. "Gods, so do I."
* * *
Cheiron had hustled the boys off to their beds two hours before. As he'd turned to leave, Zack paused, then walked around the table to stand beside Hercules. Digging into the pocket of his shirt, he pulled out a tattered and dirty piece of parchment and held it up to the demigod. As Hercules took it, he said quietly, "I can't read well enough to see what it says, exactly…but it's the note I brought Iolaus last night. I thought you should see it."
Without another word, the boy turned and followed Cheiron out of the room.
His hand trembling, Hercules lifted it close to his face, to read it in the darkening room. '…imagine your good old buddy, Hercules, an orphan, his dear, sweet, much beloved mother dead…' And then, the last line, "And then we'll kill Hercules, too."
The words blurred and he tucked the brutal message into his belt. Settling Iolaus back against the pillows, Hercules crossed to the windows and stared into the deepening dusk. His head dropped as he leaned his hands against the sill, unable to think coherently, his emotions in turmoil.
Iolaus…summoned to that mockery of a court…for having saved his mother's life. On the streets in the first place to protect her. Willing to die to save them pain. To save their lives. Without anyone ever knowing. Just…doing what he believed he'd had to do. Alone.
'And I wouldn't even have gone to help if Zack hadn't told me the truth…couldn't even be bothered to listen when the kid pleaded for help…could have cared less…' Hercules slammed a fist against the stone wall, pulverizing it in his self-disgust and rage at his own arrogance and blind stupidity. In his whole life, Iolaus had only once spoken to him viciously. Only once. But…he'd believed the lies, in his self-centred pain, he'd run away from years of loyal friendship and had never doubted the single lie…only the years of truth. Thinking back, remembering Iolaus' broken arm and the bruises, remembering that he knew Skouros had been home, he couldn't believe he'd been such a fool. Such a stupid, selfish, blind fool.
"Hercules!" Cheiron called from the doorway. "Beating down the wall won't help anything."
The demigod wheeled away, unable to face his Headmaster, rigid with fury at himself. Coming into the room, Cheiron regarded the cadet with a cool look of appraisal, then turned to light some candles as he said, "If you're going to wallow in self-indulgent grief and anger, you can leave right now. Iolaus needs someone who is focused on him, someone who is only concerned with his care to the exclusion of everything else. If you can't do that, go." Though his words were harsh, his tone was moderate, deliberate …bringing control back into the tempest of Hercules' emotions.
Hercules stiffened for a moment…and then his shoulders slumped. Shaking his head, he turned to face Cheiron, grateful for his wisdom and for his clear, very direct, message. He was right. It was time to grow up, as much as he could anyway. He'd been letting Iolaus down for two years…and that was going to stop, starting right now. "I'm sorry," Hercules said quietly. "That won't happen again."
Cheiron nodded once as he blew out his own long sigh. "Where there is life, there is hope, Hercules. Don't ever give up on Iolaus before he gives up on himself. With what he has suffered, he should already be dead, but he isn't. Iolaus has a fire inside that…that I've never seen before." Moving to stand beside Iolaus, laying a hand on his shoulder, the centaur continued, "But…he may not know yet that he's safe. He might not yet know he is no longer alone. While you are with him, I want you to talk to him. Your voice, and your mother's when she gets here, may be the only ones that can reach him, that will give him something to keep fighting to hold onto."
Looking up at the young demigod, seeing the lines of strain in his face, Cheiron debated sending Hercules to rest for a while, to get some air…but decided it would be a waste of breath. "But, you will be no good to him if you collapse from exhaustion…there are beds all around this room. So long as I am here, or when your mother gets here, you need to have the sense to lie down when you need to, before you fall down."
"I'm all right," Hercules replied, moving to take his friend's limp hand in his own.
It wasn't exactly the truth, but the centaur let it go. Hercules wouldn't be 'all right' until Iolaus recovered.
Cheiron frowned slightly as he crossed his arms and gazed at the unconscious cadet. If he recovered.
* * *
They heard the clatter of hoofbeats in the courtyard below about an hour later, and then the thump of boots in the hall. Jason rushed in with an older man dressed in a dark brown cloak, his black curly hair graying at the temples. His face was lined, as with worry, but his dark eyes were bright and alert as he slung off his cape, handing it to Jason while he kept hold of the leather pack he carried.
The centaur stepped forward, holding out his arm as he said, "Naceus, thank you for coming."
Naceus, the court physician clasped Cheiron's arm as he nodded, replying, "Jason explained to me what has happened. I'm sorry we took a bit longer than you might have hoped getting here, but I wanted to see those ruffians in the dungeon, get an idea of what they had done to your cadet…Iolaus? Is that his name?"
"Yes," Cheiron confirmed, walking with Naceus to the side of the padded examination table on which Iolaus still laid, silent and still but for the rough, uncertain breathing.
Naceus got to work immediately, scarcely noticing that there was anyone else in the room. He listened to Iolaus' chest, noting the sounds of his lungs, frowning as he stood and touched the area where Cheiron had found the broken ribs. "You've done a good job bringing these back into line," he murmured, "but they've already done some damage, sharp bone tearing his lung." He continued the examination, lifting the bandages to examine the long cuts left by the whip, noting the darkly bruised flesh.
Looking up at Hercules who'd remained close on the other side of the table, Naceus nodded in recognition, having met the demigod the year before during one of his visits to the palace with Jason. "Help me roll him over onto his side, toward you…gently now. Yes, that's right, just hold him for a moment," he instructed. The healer bit his lip unconsciously as he gently probed the black ugly bruises that spread over Iolaus' back. "Has he passed water since you've brought him here?"
Hercules shook his head, "No…"
Frowning thoughtfully, Naceus directed, "You'll need to get water into him, a little every few minutes. You've done well cleaning these wounds, but I can see infection is starting…I understand he was beaten in a barn?" he looked up and getting a nod in confirmation, he continued, "Yes, well, barns are filthy places. I've brought some salves I've made from moldy cheese…learned the trick in Epidaurus, might help." Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a clay pot and after he'd applied the salve, he had Hercules help him rebandage Iolaus and rebind his ribs.
Finished with his examination of his patient's body, he turned to examine Iolaus' head, sensitive, knowledgeable fingers delicately tracing the contours of the youth's head and face. "Hmm, nasty lump back here…might be one reason he hasn't woke up yet," he murmured. Standing back, he against listened to the breathing, felt the lad's pulse and nodded, then once again brushed the cadet's forehead, lingering a bit, feeling the slight fever that had already begun.
"All right," he said, looking up at Cheiron and the two young cadets, "here's what we've got. They beat him with fists wrapped with chains and their boots…that blow to his head is likely from being kicked and could well be his most serious injury. That and what their leader, Ronnus, did, beating him with a length of wood…the fists and boots likely cracked a rib or two, but the blows with the wood stove in his ribs and have caused bleeding inside…that's what's giving the trouble with his breathing. There isn't much we can do about that but hope it stops. I've brought some herbs you can put into a tea that may help. However, there's also been a bad blow to his back. Again, we can't do more than hope that will heal on its own. I'm not entirely sure why, but injuries there cause blood to appear in the urine. Watch that…and you'll know how bad it is by how much blood you find. The wounds from the whip…well, it seems they wanted to take their time, make him suffer as much as possible. So, though it took you a while to get to him, as Jason explained to me, there are only twenty-five or so lashes. Bad enough, that. The pain of it is terrible, and he's lost a fair amount of blood…no doubt contributing to the shock he's suffering. And, those wounds already show some signs of infection."
Hercules had paled as he'd listened to the enumeration of Iolaus' injuries, and to the more detailed knowledge of what had been done to him. Cheiron had frowned as he turned his eyes upon his cadet. "How can we best help him?"
"Largely by doing what you've been doing. I'll leave the salve and send more…it will take some time for the wounds to heal. I'll leave the herbs for the tea…and, as I say, you'll need to make sure you get lots of fluids into him, both for the injury in his back to heal, and to fight the fever that's started…and will likely get worse before it gets better. He must not be left alone. If the bleeding in his chest worsens, even with what is there now, he might well choke on his own blood…keep him propped up on the cushions, as you're doing, but he may need to be pulled higher from time to time when he's coughing, to help him breathe. Sometimes, injuries like this lead to pneumonia…frankly, I'm not sure he's strong enough to survive that. The head injury, well…there's nothing to be done but wait to see if he wakes up. I'm sorry…I wish I could offer more help."
"Will he…will he get better?" Hercules asked, his eyes dark with fear.
Naceus looked down at Iolaus, his face unreadable. "He's young and he looks as though he was in good shape, strong. Most wouldn't have survived the day he spent…but he did. So…I'd say he has a chance. The next couple of days will tell the tale. If he lives that long, and if he wakes up…well, we'll see," the healer replied, not wanting to promise too much, but not wanting to kill all hope either. Turning back to Cheiron, he continued, "I'm sorry…I can't stay. But, you've done well on your own. I can see he's in good hands."
"I understand, Naceus and I thank you for coming. Jason will let you know how it all ends," the centaur replied, walking with the physician to the door and escorting him back into the night. Outside, Cheiron lowered his voice as he asked, "What are his chances, really?" He'd caught Naceus' assessment of Hercules, noted how he'd treated the cadet as if he'd been a member of Iolaus' family, not simply someone taking care of the youth. Accordingly, he knew his old friend would have guarded his words.
Sighing, the healer replied, "Not good, I'm afraid. Simply said, he's suffered four life threatening trauma. The blow on the head, the broken ribs and bleeding inside, the blow to his back and the whipping itself." Shrugging, Naceus mounted and looked back at the centaur. "Cheiron…you're doing all you can, and you've done well. But, I don't know. His unresponsiveness worries me. All the good care in the world can only do so much. That boy is going to have to want to live, want it very much…fight to hold on. Will he do that?"
Cheiron looked away as he thought about that. From the little he knew of Iolaus' life, there wasn't much there worth fighting for and he remembered the discouragement and misery he'd seen in the youth's eyes…gods, could that have only been last evening? But, the boy had also shown he wasn't a quitter, had made hard choices, choices anyone would quail at making and could be forgiven for walking away from. How many would risk all that they had, time and again, for people they cared about? If he thought he wasn't alone, that his life might still hold promise, maybe…maybe Iolaus would fight to live. Maybe. Looking back at Naceus, the centaur shook his head. "I don't know."
The healer shrugged a little at that. "Send for me if you have need of me again. Good luck," he said as he gathered the reins and turned his horse to canter away.
Within the infirmary, the two youths had watched their seniors walk out, and then Jason turned to Hercules. "I was wrong about Iolaus," the young Prince said soberly. "I'm sorry."
The demigod swallowed as he looked down at his unconscious friend. "You didn't know him, Jason. I did. And I was wrong about him…if there's anyone who should be sorry, it's me."
Jason grimaced a little at that, hearing the depth of guilt in his friend's voice. "You can't help not knowing what he never told you," he offered.
Looking back up at the Prince, Hercules shook his head. "No…I should have known enough to ask, to chase after him and make him tell me why he was acting the way he did. Why he chose to live on the streets. I should have…been a better friend when he arrived here. I should have gone after him last night when he didn't come in by 'lights out'. I should have trusted him more…remembered better what a good friend he'd always been to me…and to my mother. But, I didn't…" his voice trailed off miserably as he looked away. "Iolaus deserved better of me. I failed him."
Sighing, the older youth moved to lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You can't undo what's been done. You can only go on, and do what you can now. Naceus said Iolaus couldn't ever be left alone, not for the next few days anyway. I'll help spell you…help you take care of him," Jason said.
Hercules replied, "Thanks, Jase, I appreciate that…I'm fine for tonight, but…well, we'll see."
They heard the sounds of Naceus' horse as he rode out of the yard and Cheiron coming back. When the centaur entered, he nodded to Jason. "Thank you for bringing Naceus. I feel better now that I'm sure of what we're dealing with and that we have the medicines he left. But…it's getting late and you've had a hard ride. You should be getting some sleep."
"Glad to do whatever I could to help, Cheiron," the Prince assured him as he headed toward the door. "I'll be back in the morning."
Once Jason had left, Cheiron turned to Hercules, wondering if it was fair to add to the strain the cadet was obviously feeling…to the guilt if Iolaus didn't recover. But, Naceus' words echoed in his mind. They had to do all they could to help Iolaus survive. "Hercules…Naceus told me that Iolaus is going to have to fight to live…he's going to have to help us save him by wanting to be saved."
"Iolaus doesn't give up," Hercules replied. His friend's stubbornness was one of his defining characteristics.
"No…but he needs a reason to live. Right now, he might not feel he has many," Cheiron replied, his voice dry. "Earlier, I asked you talk to him, let him hear the sound of your voice. I want you to tell him, again and again, what he has to live for, why he has to fight. And, if that fever gets worse, bath him with cool water. Oh, and remember to keep getting water and a tea with those herbs Naceus left into him. All right?"
Hercules nodded slowly and let out a breath. "Yes sir. I can tell him all kinds of reasons why he should live…why he has to live. And you know I'll take good care of him."
"Yes…I do know that. Well, there's not much more I can do here now. I'm going to get some rest and I'll come spell you later," he said, turning to the door.
"Don't worry, sir…I'm good for the night. When you come back in the morning, I'll get some rest then," Hercules replied. He knew there was no way he'd sleep that night.
Cheiron nodded. Whether Iolaus lived or died, Hercules needed this time with his friend, and with a last glance at Iolaus, the centaur thought that Iolaus needed that time, too.
* * *
Left alone, Hercules stood a moment just looking down at Iolaus, thinking of all the things that he needed to say, and wondered if a whole night would begin to be long enough to say it. Brushing Iolaus' hair back, feeling the light fever, Hercules frowned. "Well…it's just you and me here now, buddy. And, well, you know I've never been much for talking, but you're going to get sick of the sound of my voice. The only way you're going to get me to shut up is to wake up…you hear me? So, when you've had enough, you just let me know. I'm going to make some of that tea now, and you're going to drink it. And…if that fever gets any worse, you're going to get a bath." Smiling a little, imagining Iolaus' reaction to that, so fiercely independent, so unwilling to let anyone do anything for him. "Won't that be fun?" he tried to tease, imagining the look on Iolaus' face if he were awake.
Moving to the brazier, he lit it with a taper from the nearby candle, and set to work heating the water and steeping the tea. While he waited for it, he lit a couple more candles and one of the lanterns that hung from the wall. Then he filled a mug and went back to Iolaus. Supporting his friend's head, he carefully tipped the mug to Iolaus' lips, feeding it a little at a time, grateful when Iolaus swallowed unconsciously. "That's it," Hercules soothed. "This is going to make you better. Has medicine in it. How does it taste? I'll remember to ask for honey tomorrow, to make it sweeter for you."
When the mug was empty, he filled it again only stopping after Iolaus had swallowed the second full mug. Then he filled it with water, and left it near to hand beside a pitcher he'd also filled. Naceus had said to keep feeding Iolaus fluids so that's what he'd do.
Finding a stool, he carried it over beside the table and sat down, taking one of Iolaus' hands in his own.
"Okay," Hercules began, "now, I warn you…this might get a little, well…mushy. And I know you don't like that. But, there're a few things, well actually, a lot of things, I have to say to you. So…you're going to listen." The demigod felt a lump in his throat and his voice was a little thick, a little broken, as he continued. "I hope you can hear me, 'cause I really, really want you to hear this, and know I mean it, every word."
Swallowing, he blinked and stroked Iolaus' hair back, testing to see if the fever had gotten any worse. Not yet, anyway. Clearing his throat, he began, his voice low, "I've been a jerk, Iolaus…a complete jerk. I owe you an apology, lots of them, for so many things. I should have known better than to let you get away with yelling at me, driving me off two years ago. I should have known it was garbage, that you'd never say things like that. Never mean them. Even if you had really felt that way, you'd never say it like that, never deliberately hurt me or anyone else. I was a fool and should have yelled right back, telling you I didn't buy it and making you tell me what was wrong. I should have realized that your father had something to do with it all. That broken arm and the bruise on your face…I should have known. And been a better friend. I don't know everything he did to you…should have asked a long time ago, I guess. But, I could tell you didn't want to talk about it, so I let it go. Someday I won't. Someday you're going to tell me about it, and tell me why you never did before. You shouldn't have just tried to take all that alone."
Catching himself, Hercules realized he'd slipped into his lecture mode, telling Iolaus what he should have done, rather than remembering to tell Iolaus the things he didn't know…the reasons he had to get better. "I do tend to lecture, don't I? Must drive you crazy…don't let me get away with it. It's a…I don't know…a way to avoid talking about what I'm feeling, I guess. A way to keep myself separate…it's not that I think I'm any better than anyone else, than you. I don't…never did. Never felt as good as you, to tell you the truth. When you drove me away that day, I…well, I believed I really was some kind of freak. Gods, if you didn't like me anymore, I knew there had to be something really wrong with me. And, well, I guess I've used the arrogance to distance people. I was wrong…I was especially wrong to treat you that way. I'm sorry."
Hercules stopped to give his friend some water, then continued, "You're the best friend I ever had…and I guess I never actually said it, but I love you, Iolaus…I always have. When we were little kids, I couldn't wait to catch up with you every day, to see what plans you had for us…to see what kind of mischief we were going to get into…or what you had to teach me. Gods, you taught me so much…about tracking and hunting, about the winds and how to guess what weather is coming…how to read the stars. How to use a bow and set a snare. And…you taught me not to be afraid of what I don't know…taught me to see it as adventure, something new to explore, whether it's a place or an idea. You taught me that it was okay to be different, that it wasn't bad, just different. And that the differences could be important…useful…a gift even that I could give to other people. To help them."
Another sip of water, and Hercules wondered if the fever was getting worse. It was hard to tell. "You taught me courage…or at least showed me what it was. When you faced up to guys bigger than you, because they were wrong to bully other kids. When you didn't complain about being poor, but just went out and hunted for food for your family…gods, you were just a kid! When you took whatever your father did to you without ever saying a word about it. Why? To protect him? His reputation? I wish I knew. But, all I know is that you never complained, you never have. Life has been so hard on you, and yet you never, I don't know, you never whine about it. You never look at what someone else has and wish it was yours or feel hard done by because it isn't. Gods…you seem glad for other people when they have what makes them happy…do you know how many people would just resent it, because they didn't have what they needed? You're generous…what you have, you share…like the kids said tonight, giving them your food so they wouldn't go hungry. And you're generous with your soul…you love even when you've been hurt and the people you love have let you down…like I let you down."
Hercules gave Iolaus a little more water, and frowned as he touched his friend's face. "You're getting hotter, I can tell. Well…I guess it's bath time!" The demigod filled a basin with water and pulled a rag from the cupboard. Turning back, he sighed…it was going to be a trick to bathe Iolaus enough to cool him down with all those bandages on him. He'd have to pay special attention to the junctures of Iolaus' body…somehow cooling the neck and throat, under the arms, wrists, groin, knees and ankles always made a difference, maybe because the blood was closer to the surface there. Standing beside his friend, he wrung out the cloth, and began, gently wiping Iolaus' flushed face.
"I was saying that you're generous. Gods, that's an understatement. You terrify me with what you're willing to give my mother…me. Gods, Iolaus…you're willing to give your life! What's that about? What did we ever do to deserve what you have done to protect us? You could have died, more than once…were willing to die, not just risk it, even when you knew you were facing death, like today. We're nice people and all, but we don't deserve that…nobody ever deserves a gift like that. I don't want you to do anything like that again. I don't want you to go face deadly danger without telling me, without letting me help you. Not for me or my mother, not for anything or anyone. I know you felt alone, that you had to do this alone, and I'm sorry. That was my fault. But never again, Iolaus. You have to know that. You are not alone…I am your friend and I promise you I'm going to do the best I can for the rest of my life to be the kind of friend you deserve…the kind of friend you've always been to me. But…even if I do my best, I'll never be able to match what you've already given…and you're still not much more than a kid." Hercules sighed, wiping the damp cloth along his friend's arms, lifting them one at a time to cool the sensitive skin in Iolaus' armpits.
"How does a kid get to be as brave as you are? How did you get to be so strong? You taught me…but who taught you?" As he talked, Hercules continued bathing his friend, wincing at the bruises that covered Iolaus' body and limbs. Gods…the day must have been Tartarus, sheer, unadulterated Tartarus. How had he taken it? The kids said he'd never screamed, not once. Hercules smiled sadly. Too damned stubborn to give his tormenters the satisfaction…too stubborn to allow himself the relief of yelling out his pain. Gods, he was brave.
Despite his efforts, the fever was mounting. Hercules made more of the tea but had less luck getting Iolaus to take it. His friend was getting restless with the infection, thrashing a little though with not much strength. "Easy," Hercules soothed. "Easy…you're going to be alright. But, you have to drink this…come on, Iolaus. You have to…"
Whether it was Hercules' voice that had started the train of thought that was jumbling in Iolaus' unconscious mind, or whether it was just the thoughts that tumbled there every day, it was impossible to say. But, in his restlessness, the injured youth started mumbling, indistinctly, but clearly distressed…tears seeped from his eyes, tears that Hercules hastened to wipe away. "Hey, what's wrong…is it the pain? Gods, it must hurt bad. I'm sorry…I wish I could make it go away."
But…it wasn't the pain, not of the injuries anyway, that was making Iolaus weep…something he never did when he was awake, not if anyone was there to notice. Increasingly restless, his words became clearer, broken phrases that began to tell their own story. "Herc!" the demigod heard him cry out.
"I'm here, buddy…it's okay, I'm here," Hercules soothed him, stroking his forehead, holding his hand.
"Sorry," Iolaus mumbled, barely semi-conscious. "Don't…don't hate me…lied…never meant…please …never…lies…don't hate me…"
The demigod gripped Iolaus' shoulder, not tightly but enough that he hoped Iolaus somehow knew he was there. "Gods…I don't hate you…please…Iolaus…you have to hear me!" Hercules cried, feeling his heart clench with grief and guilt.
But, it was only too clear the youth didn't hear, was lost in his own dark memories. "Herc…hates me. Stupid…I'm…can't do this…ashamed of me…thief…no good…no good to anybody…hates me…oh gods…Herc…."
"I was wrong," Hercules protested, his voice rising as he tried to make Iolaus hear him. "I'm sorry. I'm not ashamed of you…gods, I'm proud to know you. Proud to be your friend. I don't deserve a friend like you!"
The fever built, the restlessness grew, and Hercules began again, bathing Iolaus' body, trying desperately to cool him down. Iolaus kept mumbling the same phrases over and over, his voice breaking, the pain of his grief and sorrow so poignant that Hercules had to brush tears from his own eyes. "Can't let…can't let them hurt 'mene…or Herc…have to…have to stop them…gods…not 'mene…scared…gods…going to die… have to do this…doesn't matter…I don't matter…never forgive me…Herc…never forgive if they hurt 'mene…love her…can't let…"
Hercules found himself responding to Iolaus, as if Iolaus could hear him, though it remained clear that he couldn't. The tones of Iolaus' voice…when he said he was scared…Hercules could hear how much Iolaus had been afraid to face death, the lost sound, frightened, filled with an aching loneliness…and it broke his heart. The fear and pain in his friend's voice, when he muttered about how Hercules was ashamed of him or would never forgive him, what that meant to him, caused Hercules to tremble with emotion. Gods… how much he'd hurt Iolaus… how deeply and carelessly he'd wounded the one who loved him enough to die for him.
But, the next words clenched at his heart, and terrified him. "Worth…less. No life…. Who… cares? Dead…better off…finished…better…no good…nothing…better…dead…." There was a dull emptiness in Iolaus' voice, a hopelessness Hercules had never heard from his friend, not ever.
"NO!" Hercules cried out, almost shaking Iolaus in his agitation. "No, Iolaus! Don't give up…gods, dammit…you have to fight! Please…please hear me!"
The fever worsened, and Iolaus began coughing, almost choking. Hercules pulled his friend up into his arms, supporting Iolaus against his chest, his arms wrapped around him. "Please, Iolaus," the young demigod begged, "Please don't die…please…you can't die. What would I do? Don't you know I need you? How much I've missed you? I should have told you…should have let you know. But, I was afraid. Afraid you really didn't like me anymore, you know? I…I'm sorry. Please, please…hear me! Don't leave me, Iolaus…you have to live…you just have to…."
All through the long night, Hercules bathed his friend, fought the fever, forced Iolaus to drink…and talked. Talked until his voice was hoarse, and still he talked. Toward dawn, he again had to pull Iolaus up into his arms, to help his buddy breathe, as he'd had to do so often during the night. Exhausted, he held Iolaus against him, one hand stroking his friend's hair, gently rubbing his back. "Don't leave me," he whispered. "I love you…I don't want you to die. We're supposed to go out back to back, remember? You can't go alone…you can't leave me behind."
When Cheiron came in just after dawn, he found Hercules holding Iolaus in his arms, heard him whispering though he couldn't make out the words. For a moment, from the young demigod's grief-stricken expression, the centaur was afraid Iolaus had died during the night. "Hercules?" he called out softly.
Startled, Hercules raised his head, his face pale and drawn. "He's not getting any better," the youth sighed, his voice haunted, his eyes dark. "The fever's worse…nothing I did helped. I'm losing him…."
"Easy, Hercules, let me have a look at him," the centaur soothed, worried about the cadet, both cadets, as he crossed the room and helped Hercules lay Iolaus back against the cushions. He could feel the heat radiating off Iolaus, fevered but not dangerously so. "You've done well…yes, there's a fever. But that's not all bad. Fevers show that our bodies are fighting off infection, fighting to get better. You haven't lost him yet…he's fighting to live, Hercules…still fighting back."
The young cadet searched the headmaster's eyes with his own and saw reassurance there. Hercules sagged a bit, almost afraid to feel any kind of relief. "He muttered a lot during the night," he reported.
"Also a good sign…he's not so deeply unconscious," Cheiron soothed. "You must have been reaching him."
"He didn't seem to hear me…didn't understand what I was saying," Hercules replied, looking sad and a little lost.
"Perhaps not the words…but he would have been hearing your voice, I'm certain of that," Cheiron replied. "I want you to get some rest…go over to one of the cots and lie down." When Hercules looked as if he might protest, the centaur looked at him sternly. "Here or the dormitory, one or the other, but I insist that you try to rest. I'll watch him for the next few hours."
When Cheiron got that look on his face, Hercules knew there was no more point in arguing. And, if he was honest, he'd have to admit he was exhausted, emotionally even more than physically. Nodding, he walked slowly to a cot in the far corner and lying down, pulled a blanket up over his shoulders. Though he'd had no intention of sleeping, feeling it would somehow be another betrayal of Iolaus, his body knew better and within a few minutes his breathing had slowed as he dropped off to sleep.
Cheiron stroked Iolaus' hair, then murmured, "I don't know what he said to you, but I can tell you that he's sick with worry about you. He needs you, Iolaus…so you'd better keep fighting, lad. This is no time to quit."
* * *
Jason came and helped Cheiron change the bandages and bedding while Hercules slept. All the fluids Hercules had pushed into Iolaus during the night had had some effect and his body had started to work again. Cheiron frowned at the pink tinge he saw, but was more relieved than not. If it didn't get worse, this was a sign that the injury was not likely to be fatal. The Prince and the Headmaster took turns bathing Iolaus to keep the fever from spiking and forcing more of the tea and water into him. They spoke to him softly as they worked, but their patient remained silent, unresponsive.
"Do you think he's going to make it, Cheiron?" Jason asked, with a worried glance back at Hercules.
The centaur understood that Jason was more concerned about Hercules, about what Iolaus' death would mean to him than Iolaus himself. It was natural. In the past year, the youths had become close friends, while the Prince didn't really know Iolaus at all. "I don't know, Jason. It's too soon to know one way or the other," Cheiron replied.
Jason nodded, thinking Cheiron was referring to Iolaus. In truth, the centaur had been referring to both cadets. He'd become increasingly certain that whether Iolaus lived or died would also have a profound and lasting impact on the life of the young demigod. He sighed as he continued caring for Iolaus. Time would tell.
* * *
Hercules had been up again for about an hour, and had gotten something to eat at Cheiron's insistence, by the time they heard horses and the rumble and creak of a wagon enter the yard. A moment later, Alcmene rushed into the room, her face white, worry in her eyes. "Hercules?" she called out as soon as she saw her son. "How is Iolaus?"
The young demigod crossed the room to meet his mother as she walked toward the table, hugging her as he whispered, his voice suddenly very young, broken and scared, "He's been hurt bad, Mom…real bad."
She held him a moment more, rubbing a soothing hand over his back, then pushed away. "Well, I'd better have a look at him then, hadn't I." Her voice was brisk, and meant to be, to give an air of confidence and hope.
Taking a breath, she crossed the room and looked down at Iolaus. Gently brushing his curls back and caressing his cheek, she felt the fever…and felt her own heart clench at seeing him so still and hurt. "Oh, Iolaus," she murmured, having to blink at the tears that had filled her eyes. "What have you done now? You were supposed to be safe here."
Standing beside her, Hercules laid a hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what happened? Why?" he asked.
Nodding, she replied, quietly, "Yes, some of it, at least. Dorion, the cadet who came for me? Dorion told me on the way. He said there was little boy, from the gang, who came for help…and told all of you what Iolaus had done and why. I'm sorry…sorry he's been so badly hurt…protecting me."
"Both of us," Hercules replied, deciding not to show her the parchment note. "The gang threatened to kill both of us."
Alcmene shook her head as she continued to stroke Iolaus' cheek. "He'll be all right, Hercules. You must believe that." 'And so must I,' she told herself, remembering the man who had come to her from the future. Iolaus had to recover if he was going to save her life yet again, before Hercules had even ever been born.
"We've been bathing him to fight the fever and we've got medicine for tea and for his wounds. It's about all that we can do for him," her son replied, hoping with all his heart that she was right, that Iolaus would get better.
"And, we need to keep doing that. Bring some fresh water from the well, it will be cooler, and I'll give him a bath. My, I haven't given Iolaus a good wash in years, though I itched to when he was living on those streets," she said looking up at her son, the light of confident hope in her eyes, and a teasing smile on her face. She won a wan smile in return, and then he went to do her bidding.
Turning back to Iolaus, she bent to kiss his brow, then murmured, "You're good and brave, and you do too much for us. Come back, Iolaus…get well and strong again, my son. We miss you, and we need you, Hercules and I. Come back to us."
"'Mene?" he muttered his tone anxious, not really conscious but responding from deep inside to the sound of her voice. He didn't have any idea where he was, but even in his muddled state of jumbled images and thoughts, he knew he was still alive and he was afraid for her…being alive meant her life was still at risk.
"Yes, love, I'm here," she soothed him, holding one hand while she stroked his face. "You're safe…you saved Hercules and you saved me. You need to rest and get better."
He smiled a little at her soothing tones, understanding that she was all right and his features relaxed under her touch. Though he wasn't conscious and wouldn't remember, the sound of her voice had always made him feel safe…it was the sound of home.
* * *
"Alcmene!" Cheiron called from the doorway as he came in with Hercules, who was carrying two buckets of fresh water. "Thank you for coming."
She turned and went to meet the centaur while Hercules prepared the water for the sponge bath and set more on to boil for tea.
"No…thank you for sending for me. I would never have forgiven you if I'd heard of this later," Alcmene replied, casting a worried look back at Iolaus. "What are his injuries?"
As Cheiron listed the damage and his assessment of the state of infection, she watched her son, the way he hovered over Iolaus, gentle with his touch, lifting Iolaus as soon as the youth began to cough harshly. "Hercules has been here since we brought Iolaus back…but I've made him rest and eat," he also reported watching her eyes and the expression on her face.
Smiling a little, she looked back at him and nodded. "I know I can trust you to be taking care of them both," she replied.
The centaur's face clouded a little as he gazed at Iolaus, "I didn't take very good care of one of them, I'm afraid. I'm sorry."
Snorting, Alcmene laid a hand on his arm as she replied, "Nonsense. I know Iolaus…and I know he'd have kept his troubles to himself. You couldn't very well help if you didn't know what was happening."
Nodding, he looked down at her. "I've noticed that about him…he plays the fool when he thinks others are watching. He doesn't seem to know how to ask for help when he needs it."
"No," Alcmene sighed, "he doesn't. I suspect it's because he's never really had anyone to ask. All his life, he's only learned responsibility. Taking care of his family while his father was away…looking out for Hercules with more care than would an older brother. I know, believe me…Iphicles was never so protective. When he's had problems, he's found some way to deal with them on his own. I think he's afraid of being a burden to other people, imposing on them, as if by asking for something he either looks weak or is trading on affection he's not sure he deserves."
"You sound like you've thought about this a great deal," the centaur observed.
Nodding, she sighed. "I have. I've known Iolaus since he was seven years old. I've seen him hide hurts that would have another child in tears…I was never able to teach him that it's alright to ask for help sometimes. That when people love you, they are glad to give it…and even strangers like to feel needed. It's a hard lesson for him…he's never learned to trust the world, or anyone in it, enough to believe that if he asked it wouldn't be denied."
"Hmmm," Cheiron murmured as he thought about that. "Thank you for telling me this. If he survives, those will be the lessons I'll try to ensure he learns before he leaves here. Trust and the strength to ask for help."
"Oh, he'll live," Alcmene replied confidently.
Surprised at her tone, knowing she was no fool and there were no guarantees of that yet, he cocked a questioning brow as he looked down at her.
Smiling, she patted his arm as she turned back to bathe Iolaus. "He wouldn't dare die on me…he knows I'd never forgive him for it. And that's something that scares him even more than asking for help. You'll see. He's going to be just fine."
* * *
After Cheiron took his leave, Alcmene set about caring for Iolaus with the gentle, matter of fact manner of a capable and loving mother, while Hercules fed Iolaus more of the tea. But, as she began to lower the light sheet that covered Iolaus' naked body to cool the rest of him, her son laid a light hand on her arm. Surprised, she looked up to see him blushing faintly. "What's wrong?" she asked, mystified.
"Uh…I don't think Iolaus would want you to…well…I just think he'd be embarrassed…" her son said softly.
"Oh Hercules…there's nothing here I've haven't seen before! The two of you used to scamper around naked when it got too hot for clothes. Iolaus, as I recall, was the first one to strip and splash in water from the well," she protested, smiling in remembrance.
But, her son shook his head. "That was different," he replied. "We were just kids."
"Well, then we just won't tell him," she replied acerbically.
"No, because we won't have to. I'll bathe his hips and thighs and you can give him some water," Hercules replied firmly. "He's helpless, and I won't let anyone, even you, do something to him I don't think he'd want."
Regarding her son thoughtfully, she felt a lump in her throat. She was used to Iolaus protecting Hercules. The older boy had appointed himself her son's guardian a long time ago…but she'd never seen or heard her son be so staunchly protective of Iolaus that he'd guard him even against her gentle intrusions. Hercules was growing up. "All right," she conceded. "You win."
Turning she poured water into the mug and exchanged places with her son. Discreetly, she kept her eyes away while Hercules bathed his friend, and when he saw it was needed, changed the linen around his loins. He was relieved to see it was scarcely tinted with pink this time. Another good sign.
Later, when she tried to get Hercules to go out to the mess for something to eat, he again stood his ground. "No," he replied with quiet firmness. "I'm fine…I'm not leaving Iolaus until I know he's getting better."
"Well…all right. I'll go over to the mess and bring us back something to eat. I want to ask them to prepare a chicken broth for Iolaus…he needs more than tea and water to keep him going. I won't be long," she replied.
Others came and went, staying for a while and then wandering off again. The young boys, Jason, and even Fiduceous who seemed genuinely concerned for the injured cadet. Hercules was surprised. He'd never thought that old Fiddleface really cared a fig about any of them, that teaching was just a job, pure and simple. But, as he watched their teacher's face, read the real sorrow in the man's eyes as he studied Iolaus, he thought perhaps he hadn't known Fiduceous as well as he'd thought. 'Assumptions,' he told himself. 'You're always making assumptions…doesn't mean you're right. Remember that."
When the sun set, Iolaus was still feverish but no worse than he'd been. If anything, he seemed a little less gray, and though he still coughed, there was less blood on his lips and his breathing seemed a little easier. All day, Hercules or his mother had spoken to the youth, reminiscing, exhorting him to get better, imagining what they'd do when he did…like all of them getting together for the winter Solstice holiday. A few times, Alcmene even managed to get Hercules to laugh lightly, if briefly, and she was glad. She believed the sound of laughter was healing, that laughter was good for the soul.
As night fell, Hercules urged his mother to go to the room that had been prepared for her, to rest for the night, and she'd finally agreed. It had been a long, hurried trip and she'd not slept since Dorion had roused her in the middle of the last night.
Alone, Hercules continued the care of his friend, and continued talking to him. "Well…so you know Mother has arrived…you probably appreciated the chicken broth. Not much substance, but I bet it tasted better than the tea, even with the honey I got for it. She says you're going to be fine…I hope she's right. We really want you to get better, Iolaus…I've missed you. I want to catch up with what you've been doing, how you survived…and I want to go fishing with you again. And, I'm going to help you with your homework…help you to catch up, I promise. Did you hear Fiduceous saying I should have been doing more to help you last week? Should have told him you hadn't been near a scroll in two years, let alone a classroom, especially when it was clear you weren't saying anything about that? He said he'd finally asked you, and had given you some stuff to help you learn what you missed in school. You'd probably've told me, I guess, if I hadn't been such a jerk the other night, going on about how you had to study and all. Like you didn't know that. You did, didn't you? You went and climbed up on that wall to study by yourself. Well, from now on, we study together, buddy. And you're going to tell me when there's stuff you don't get. It'll be good for me, too…a test to see if I really do know as much as I pretend I do with that 'arrogant' manner of mine that you so helpfully pointed out to me."
The demigod sighed, wishing he could take back all the hard words he'd said, all the criticism and self-righteousness. All the rotten mean thoughts and the looks of contempt. But, he couldn't…he could just make up for it in the future. He was startled out of his thoughts when Iolaus moaned slightly, then groaned more loudly, his hands coming up to press on his injured ribs.
"Easy, Iolaus…gods, I know it hurts," Hercules said, laying his hand over Iolaus', brushing back the hair that always seemed to be falling over his friend's face.
The youth moaned again, and his lashes twitched…blinked as he mumbled, "Herc?"
"Yeah," Hercules replied, smiling hopefully. "Can you hear me, Iolaus? I'm right here, buddy."
"Mmm," Iolaus muttered as he blinked again and opened his eyes, wincing against the light and the pain that throbbed through his body. "Where…?
"You're in the infirmary…at the Academy. You were hurt pretty bad, Iolaus…you've had us scared," the demigod told him, stroking his forehead.
Swallowing, confused, Iolaus licked his lips. "Thirsty," he said, his voice hoarse and weak.
Hercules reached for the mug of cool water, and supported his friend's head while Iolaus took a few gulps.
"Thanks," Iolaus sighed as he lay back, wincing again at the pain. "Hot."
"Uh huh…you've got a bit of a fever, but Cheiron says it's a good thing…that your body is fighting the infection," Hercules replied, wringing out the cloth and wiping Iolaus' face, his throat and arms. "You're going to be all right, Iolaus…you're going to be fine," he said, watching his friend's face, feeling the new tension in Iolaus' body from the pain he could now feel. "Just rest, okay?"
Dazed, muddled, not understanding how he'd gotten here or really anything that was going on, Iolaus nodded a little and his eyes drifted closed as he slipped back to sleep. Hercules trembled a little then, and his eyes burned with relief, and finally with hope that Iolaus really was going to make it. He took a shuddering breath and then went back to bathing Iolaus' fevered body with the cool water.
Sometime after midnight, Iolaus' fever broke, drenching his bandages and the sheets. Almost breathless with relief, Hercules washed off the sweat and carried Iolaus to a dry cot, where he could change the dressings. He applied the salve Naceus had brought, glad to see the healing wounds were less livid, the bruises beginning to lighten. Then he changed the linen on the examining table and carried Iolaus back, putting fresh cushions behind his back and head. It was higher than the cots, and wider…easier to care for Iolaus when he was on it.
A couple of hours later, Iolaus woke again, and seemed more alert. He'd been aware of Hercules' voice and that was what had drawn him back, trying to hear the words. He'd been surprised as he'd listened, not fully awake but aware. Surprised to hear the guilt and grief in Hercules' voice as he apologized for being such an idiot as the demigod repeated much of what he'd said the night before.
"Not your fault," Iolaus muttered as he tried to pull himself back to full wakefulness. Blinking, moaning a little at the pain that shot through his chest and back and burned from the cuts left by the whip, he looked up to see Hercules' eyes gazing into his own.
"You're in no condition to argue, Iolaus," the demigod said gently. "It was my fault."
Confused, Iolaus asked, "What was?"
Hercules smiled at him softly as he asked, "Did you hear anything of what I was saying?"
Shaking his head weakly, his friend replied, his voice hoarse and faint, "No, not really…I don't remember…just your voice."
Gazing at Iolaus, assessing just how awake and alert he was, Hercules nodded and pulled up the stool. Sitting, he wrapped his fingers around Iolaus' hand. "Okay…well…I've been saying a lot of things. And, since you're still too weak to fight me or answer back, I'm going to say them again, and I want you to listen to me. I want you to know I really mean what I say."
Frowning a little at the serious tone and the intensity in Hercules' eyes, Iolaus nodded, "'Kay," he murmured. "So…talk."
Suddenly feeling awkward, Hercules looked away. It was a lot harder to say all this stuff to Iolaus awake than it had been to Iolaus unconscious. But…he had to tell Iolaus, had to apologize and thank him…and let him know he was never to do anything like this again, go up against danger alone again. Taking a breath, Hercules looked back at his friend and held his eyes with his own as he said quietly, "First, I owe you a ton of apologies. I've been a real jerk…and if I pull any of that arrogant shit with you again, I want you to call me on it and call me hard. You have been nothing but a friend to me…more than that. For my whole life, you've been closer even than my brother, Iphicles. And I'm ashamed to say, I forgot that. In my own self-centred way, I allowed myself to believe what you said two years ago, when I should have known from the start it was garbage. You don't hurt people like that…it's not in you. And you sure wouldn't deliberately hurt me like that unless there was a hell of a good reason. I should have stayed and found out what that reason was. If I had, the last two years might not ever have happened the way they did…you'd never have had to feel you were so completely alone. I'm sorry, Iolaus…I blew it that day… and ever since."
Iolaus shook his head weakly. "Wanted you to go away…"
"Only to protect my mother, and likely me from beating the Tartarus out of your father," Hercules cut in. "Zack told me…."
"Zack?" Iolaus repeated, his eyes darting around the infirmary.
"He's not here right now, but he'll be back to see you tomorrow. Zack came here for help and it was a good thing he did. You were almost dead when Cheiron and I arrived," Hercules explained. "Zack, and the other little kids, have told us quite a lot about what you've been doing the last couple of years. And he gave me the note he brought to you. I know why you did what you did, Iolaus," Hercules explained, his voice catching, his eyes filling with tears. "Gods, buddy…you were ready to die to protect mom, me. What you suffered for us…." But his voice broke and he had to blink the tears away.
"My responsibility," Iolaus whispered, looking away.
"No," Hercules protested, shaking his head as he stroked Iolaus' forehead. "No…don't ever go up against something like that alone again. It wasn't your responsibility to do that…your courage took you into that barn…and, I guess love …but not 'responsibility'. You don't owe us your life, Iolaus…we don't want you dead."
Sighing, the demigod swallowed, and then continued with all that he had to say. "You're my best friend, Iolaus, a better friend than anyone, certainly me, ever deserves. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough for all you've done for me, and for my mother. Even after I treated you so badly, said such nasty things to you. I'm sorry. I didn't really mean any of it. It's just that…I was afraid. I was afraid you really didn't like me much anymore and I couldn't handle it. I know I didn't do anything to help you when I should have…not here in the last week, not for the past two years. But…I swear to you, I never stopped missing you, never stopped wishing I could get you back…get our friendship back."
Iolaus turned a searching gaze back to his friend's face, seeking the truth in his eyes, wanting to know Herc wasn't just feeling guilty and thinking he had to say this stuff because of what had happened in the barn. Hercules gripped his hand more tightly. "I mean it, Iolaus," he assured his friend. Hesitating, taking a breath, the demigod said quietly, "I love you. I was a fool to ever pretend I didn't because I was afraid to show it. Whatever happens from here on in, no matter what kind of jerk I might be in the future, don't ever forget that. I love you. You're my best friend, and I want to be your best friend again, now…and always."
Tears filled Iolaus' eyes and he blinked rapidly as Hercules felt him begin to tremble under his hands. Taking a shuddering breath, sniffing against tears that embarrassed him, Iolaus whispered, "I've missed you, Herc. I've missed you so much."
"Oh, Iolaus," Hercules sighed, standing to pull his friend up into a hug, gently but firmly holding him against his chest, Iolaus' head supported on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Gods… I was so afraid you were going to die and I didn't know…didn't know how I'd ever live with it, live without you in my life. I've been so scared…." His voice broke as he clung to his best friend, tears falling into Iolaus' hair.
"S'okay," Iolaus murmured. "Not going anywhere."
Hercules raised his head to look down at his friend. Smiling a little, he replied softly, "I'm supposed to be reassuring you, remember?"
Iolaus gave him a shadow of a grin, then winced as the pain again ripped through him. Biting his lip, he held his breath, waiting it out. Frowning with concern, Hercules' eased him back down. "Cheiron left out some poppy juice…said I could put a few drops in water for you, if you needed it. Looks like you do," he said.
Grimacing with the pain, his eyes pressed shut as he tried not to groan, his jaw tight, Iolaus nodded weakly. Hercules hastily prepared the medicine and again supported Iolaus' head while he drank. Sighing as he laid back, Iolaus gripped Herc's hand, as hard as he could, as he waited for the spasms to pass. Finally, he relaxed a little and opened his eyes again.
Though Hercules could still see pain there, he could also see a glint of the old humour as Iolaus grinned a little crookedly and murmured, "So…got any more…nice things to say? Or apologies? You could grovel a bit more…."
With a wide smile, Hercules replied, "Grovel, eh? You like that, don't you?" When Iolaus nodded weakly, the demigod laughed, knowing Iolaus was teasing him again…teasing him like he hadn't done in more than two years. "Well…let's see. I said I was a jerk…I was also an idiot, and arrogant fool, blind and stupid, and really, really dumb…I should have remembered to trust you, should have helped you when you first got here, should have confronted you when I saw Zack give you that note…" But his voice broke off when he saw the startled question in Iolaus' eyes. "Yeah," Hercules continued softly, guilt again in his voice, "I'd gone back out, sorry about the fight we'd just had…and I saw you talking to Zack. I'm sorry…I just got mad again and took off. If I hadn't, we could have gone after those guys together and you wouldn't have been so hurt. Gods, Iolaus…this really is my fault. I know that…you'll never know how very sorry I am to have been such a fool."
Iolaus shook his head as he murmured softly, "Great groveling, Herc…but…that's enough. You got there in time…rescued me."
Hercules looked away, his face stark with guilt. "I wouldn't have," he confessed. "If Zack hadn't told me why…I'm so ashamed, Iolaus…I let you down so completely."
But, Iolaus just squeezed his hand weakly as he whispered, "Too much groveling. Tell me more…about how great…I am…."
Looking back at Iolaus, Hercules was touched by the look on his buddy's face. There was no censure, no bad feelings, no resentment. Just that small smile and eyes that said it was 'okay'. "There aren't enough words in the world to tell you how great you are, Iolaus," the demigod replied, meaning it.
Iolaus snickered then winced again. Taking a breath, he attempted to grin as he simply said, "Try…."
"All right…but you need to rest. Close your eyes and I'll tell you that you're brave and strong. That you are more noble than anyone I've ever met…or likely ever will…" But, Iolaus didn't hear any more than that because he'd drifted back to sleep to the warm sound of his best friend's voice.
* * *
When he woke the next day, his eyes lit up with pleasure when he saw Alcmene beside him. "'Mene!" he breathed, smiling softly and reaching a hand toward her.
Taking his hand in her own, smiling down at him, she replied, "Good morning, Sleepyhead. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up."
"You're here," he whispered, a look a little like awe in his eyes.
"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be when you need me?" she replied, stroking his forehead. "I love you…and if you ever do something as stupid as going to a barn full of wannabe murderers again on my behalf, I'll take a switch to you, I swear it!"
"Nah…that's just a threat," he murmured with a grin. "You wouldn't hurt a fly."
"Oh, I can hurt a fly…I can even kill one if it annoys me enough," she answered. "But, you're right. I couldn't hurt you. I just don't want you to get hurt again trying to protect me. Twice in two weeks is twice too many."
Trying for a gallant, teasing expression despite the pain that was again assailing him, Iolaus replied, "For you? I'd take on the world."
Her expression sobered completely. "You already have, Iolaus," she said, tears in her eyes. Biting her lip, she swallowed, seeing distress in his eyes, not wanting to worry him with her emotion, but wanting to be clear. "I mean it, my son…please don't go around trying to get yourself killed. Especially not for me. It would break my heart to lose you that way."
Iolaus sniffed and blinked as his hand tightened on hers. "I love you," he whispered, his lips trembling.
"I know…I've always known. You show it every time you see me…your eyes light up, and you do everything you can to help…you've even brought me flowers…" she replied softly with a gentle smile.
"Weeds…" he corrected, blushing a little.
"Flowers," she insisted, remembering any number of wilted bouquets offered by a grubby little hand. "The most beautiful flowers. You love me, and you love Hercules…so much you're willing to die for us. You've more than proven your love, time after time…enough. You don't have to prove it anymore."
"Okay," he replied with a smile of his own, willing to end the mushy discussion. "So…are you going to cook something good? I'm hungry," he teased…well, partly teased. A little surprised, he realized he really was hungry.
Laughing, she patted his shoulder. "Yes…in a day or two. For now, I have some very nice chicken broth for you."
He groaned theatrically, and she glanced at him sharply as she stood to get the broth that was heating on the brazier. And she could tell it wasn't all in jest. Quietly, she added a few drops of the poppy juice to the broth and was glad when he fell back to sleep not long after.
* * *
It was a couple more days before he could stay awake for any length of time. But he recovered steadily after that, enjoying especially the visits of Zack and the other two boys.
"Hey, Zack, come over here, buddy," Iolaus called when he spotted the young boy hovering in the door way.
Smiling broadly at the welcome, the kid practically raced to the bedside, as he crowed jubilantly, "They said you were getting better!"
"Yeah…thanks to you," Iolaus replied. "I heard how you ran to the rescue…took guts, kid. I'm more grateful than you'll ever know. I owe you, big time."
Shaking his head, embarrassed, Zack replied, "No you don't. I couldn't stand it, Iolaus…what they did. I should have gone for help sooner."
Studying him, Iolaus reached out to ruffle the dark curls and to pull the child closer into a loose hug, though the movement caused a fair amount of pain. "I'm proud of you, Zack," he said quietly, "You did what was right. You saved my life. Remember that."
Flushing, the child hugged Iolaus tightly, biting his lip to hold back his tears, filled with warmth and love. Hercules had said Iolaus would be proud of him…it meant a lot to know the demigod had been right. For the rest of his life, Zack would continue to be guided by what he thought would make Iolaus proud of him.
* * *
While he was glad to see Zack and the other two boys when they came, Iolaus was uncomfortable with the cadets and the teachers but grateful for their evident concern. Hercules continued to sit with him through the night and it gave him an odd feeling of security, letting him relax and sleep deeply, just what his body needed to heal.
Though both Hercules and Alcmene tried to talk again about what he'd done for them, he cut them off after those first conversations. He hadn't intended that they ever know…and was a little embarrassed that they did. They'd thanked him, when they didn't have to in his view, and that was enough. They didn't need to keep thanking him for the fact that he loved them…he was just glad to know they loved him back. Instead, he reverted to his teasing ways, getting more restless with being confined to bed as he began to feel better. But it was a week before they let him get up, and then only for brief, short walks around the infirmary, Hercules keeping a strong arm around him. Iolaus was disgusted with his weakness, but bit back any complaints, just glad to actually be alive and able to walk at all.
They'd just made another circuit and the weak cadet felt like a strip of limp pasta by the time he reached for the table ready to collapse. But, before Herc could give him a boost back up, they heard the clip of the centaur's hooves and turned to face Cheiron as he entered the infirmary. Both cadets straightened reflexively in respect, Iolaus leaning a bit on the table for support.
Giving him a keen look of appraisal, Cheiron paused and crossed his arms as he said, "You're looking much better, Iolaus…but not quite up to full strength yet, I see."
"No sir…not quite, but getting there. Sir," Iolaus responded, smiling a little. The days spent under Cheiron's concerned care had left him a little less intimidated, but not much. The Headmaster still gave him the feeling that he could see right through him.
"Well…I'm glad to see such good progress. Enough that we can take the time now to review the events that led to your injuries," Cheiron said, his expression austere, even remote, his voice dry, clipped, while his dark eyes flashed at them both.
Iolaus had never had occasion to see Cheiron deliver an incisive dressing down, but Hercules knew the signs and stiffened, swallowing to moisten a suddenly dry throat. Iolaus noted his friend's disquiet and frowned, not understanding.
"What events?" Iolaus asked, then heard Hercules groan softly as he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "You had to ask?"
"First," the centaur replied, skewering Hercules with a cold glare, "you, Hercules, were derelict in your duty as a cadet."
"What?" mumbled Iolaus.
"Quiet," hissed Hercules.
As if unaware of their muttered exchanges, Cheiron continued, "When you realized Iolaus had not reported back to the barracks in time for 'lights out', it was incumbent upon you to report the infraction. You allowed personal feelings, and unfounded assumptions to interfere with your judgment and the performance of your duties. As a result, one of your fellow cadets very nearly lost his life. If such behaviour occurs again, I will put you on report. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Hercules nodded, feeling as if he'd gotten off lightly, most particularly since said 'cadet' was currently standing beside him. Though he felt a little bad about being part of the dressing down, Iolaus flashed a quick cheeky grin at his buddy. He'd not had a lot of occasions to see Herc taken down a peg or two for his one of his rare flaws…the tendency to jump to conclusions by believing too quickly in his own 'unfounded assumptions'. Nailed for arrogance, neat and clean…classic in fact. A moment to remember.
But his enjoyment of the moment was short-lived as Cheiron turned his stony regard on the smaller cadet. "And you, Iolaus, you left the Academy without leave and by doing so you violated the terms of your parole."
Iolaus felt as if he'd just been punched, blood draining from his face as he thought that Cheiron couldn't possibly be saying that he was to be sent to prison, not after all this.
But, the centaur was not finished. "I'm willing to accept that you were under duress at the time," he said dryly, with no trace of humour. "However, don't imagine I will be as forgiving in the future. I expect you to abide fully with the regulations of this Academy. If fact, after this, I would advise you to become a model of deportment."
Iolaus blew out a sigh of relief and was about to speak, when Cheiron held up a hand. "I consider your subsequent actions to be of far greater concern. You went alone to face a force that you knew exceeded your own resources to resist…and you knew they threatened your death. You undertook this action out of a sense of responsibility for the lives of others. But, your decision was seriously flawed and reflected an inappropriate assessment of the options available to you and the resources you could have drawn upon. You are no longer a free agent, Iolaus. You are a member of this Academy with an entire class of skilled cadets as comrades, and as such, you are not alone. Shouldering responsibility and putting your life on the line is unacceptable when there are other alternatives…such as asking for help. In the future, you will ask …and you will learn to trust that others will support you. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Iolaus replied, feeling as if he'd been well and truly chewed out, "completely understood. Sir."
"Good," their Headmaster replied, giving them each stern looks then turning toward the door.
Embarrassed, feeling guilty for having acted like fools, Hercules and Iolaus exchanged quick glances, Herc's brows raised as far as they could go and Iolaus rolling his eyes and shaking his head. How to feel like an idiot in one easy move? Get Cheiron on your case and let him rip. Well, at least it was over and they were both still relatively intact.
However, Cheiron paused and turned back, causing them to once again stiffen to attention. 'What now?' they each wondered. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at them, and then his gaze softened, with what they might have thought was approval if that could have been the least bit conceivable…which it wasn't, not at that point. Confusing them further, he smiled sparingly, as he reflected with a more moderate tone of slight warmth. "I must however also acknowledge, Iolaus, that your actions exhibited a rare courage and sense of integrity. Very impressive. I'm proud to know you are one of my cadets."
Surprise flitted across Iolaus' face, an enormous lump having just appeared in his throat. Swallowing hard, he managed to choke out hoarsely, "Thank you, sir." Blinking hard, he took a breath to say a bit more strongly, "Thank you…I'm proud to be one of your cadets. Sir."
The centaur nodded in approval, then his gaze shifted to Hercules. "And, you, Hercules. You demonstrated a rare devotion and commitment in seeing to the care of your injured comrade. It was clear to me that you fully appreciated your responsibility for what had occurred, and that you have learned from it, readily acknowledging your faults in the matter. It takes wisdom to recognize when we are wrong, and strength of character to admit it. I'm pleased with you…you show great promise."
Hercules nodded tightly as he studied the floor for a moment, regaining his composure, then clearing his throat, he said, "Thank you, sir. It's a lesson I won't ever forget. Sir."
Cheiron nodded in acknowledgement, then with a pointed look at Iolaus, he suggested, "And now you might want to help your comrade to his bed before he falls on his face." Smiling, he turned and left the infirmary.
"He's pleased," Iolaus observed.
"And proud," Hercules agreed.
"How often is Cheiron pleased and proud, Hercules?" Iolaus asked, turning to look up at his friend with a quizzical look.
"So far as I know, Iolaus, this is a first," the demigod replied, looking down at his friend.
They burst into twin smiles of incredible radiance, their eyes dancing with the pleasure of having won the approval of the exacting Headmaster. Caught in the moment, they each raised an arm and slapped their palms together. "Just like the old days," Hercules grinned.
"Together, we are still an impressive team!" Iolaus chuckled back, but then had to grab at the table and lean upon it as his knees got a little too wobbly to hold him up any longer. Hercules reached for him hastily and helped him up, plumping the cushions for him.
"Just a little too much excitement for one day, eh, buddy?" Hercules noted, laying a hand on Iolaus' shoulder.
"Maybe…but I wouldn't have missed that for the world," Iolaus replied, deeply touched by the centaur's words. "I'm really glad I'm here, Herc…I'm going to work hard to make it."
"I'm glad you're here, too, Iolaus…and, don't worry…you'll make it. I'm going to make sure of it," Herc assured him with a warm smile. "Together, we can't be beat."
* * *
Two days later, Alcmene came to take her leave. Iolaus was recovering well, and she needed to go home.
"So," she asked, a twinkle in her eye, "can I leave this time with a clear conscience…you won't go off in the next few days and take more death-defying risks?"
"No," Iolaus assured her with a grin, "I won't be up for that kind of action for at least another couple of weeks. I'll be good, I promise. In fact, I have to be…Cheiron read me the riot act for not trusting my fellow cadets and asking for help when I should have. I'll remember to do that next time."
"Will you?" she asked, surprised, her face lighting with a smile. "Well…now that's a small miracle. Cheiron impresses me more with each passing day."
Chuckling, Iolaus nodded. "Yeah…he's impressive, all right." Sobering, he held out a hand to her and when she took it, he said quietly, "Thanks for coming, Alcmene…I can't thank you enough…."
But she cut him off. "There's another lesson I want you learn, young man," she said sternly. "I forbid you to ever thank me again for loving you. You will accept it as your due, as a sweet, generous, wonderful soul. Do you understand me?"
Moisture spangled his lashes, and he blinked furiously as he nodded. "Yes ma'am. Than…um…yes, ma'am."
She smiled and pulled him into a tight hug as she said quietly, "Just take care of yourself and Hercules when he lets you. That's all the thanks I'll ever want or need."
He hugged her tight, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I'll do my best for you, 'Mene. Always."
"You always have," she replied, pulling back to stroke his cheek. "I'll see you at Solstice."
With that, she turned and left, the sound of the wagon creaking out of the yard a few minutes later.
Hearing a familiar tread in the hall, Iolaus' eyes widened as Hercules marched in with a pile of scrolls in his arms. "What's that?" he asked, a little afraid of the answer.
"Everything you've missed while you've been loafing around in here," his best friend informed him.
Shaking his head with mock horror, Iolaus held up his arms, palms out in a defensive posture. "Oh no… I'm too weak, Hercules…I'm not ready…please, don't torture me…not yet!"
"Sorry…but it's time to face it, Iolaus," Hercules replied, unmoved by the plea for mercy. Rummaging through the scrolls, he found the one he wanted. "Fiduceous says this one'll help you begin to catch up," he said as he perched on the stool and unrolled it.
Sighing, Iolaus muttered, "Not the one about the triangles…."
"'Fraid so," his friend informed him.
Reaching for the scroll, Iolaus capitulated. "You don't have to do this, Herc. I know it's dead dull for you. I can work it out on my own," he said.
Looking up from the scroll, Hercules shook his head, his eyes serious as he said lightly, "You've worked out enough on your own. From now on, I'm helping you whether you want it or not. I promised you I would."
"When?" Iolaus asked, frowning, not remembering.
"Oh…it's one of the many promises I made to you while you were still out cold," Hercules replied with a shrug, gazing back down at the scroll.
"Yeah…what other promises did you make?" Iolaus asked, grinning a little.
Looking back up at his friend, Hercules shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you about all of them," he said with a smile. Continuing, his voice quiet but sincere, he added, "I'm going to show you. For the rest of your life, buddy…I'm going to show you the promises I made."
Iolaus studied him thoughtfully for a moment. "This has something to do with that bit about being arrogant, doesn't it…and the fact that I get to kick your butt every time you pull that on me again."
Herc nodded once, as he replied with a grin, "Yep…every time. Now, about these triangles…."
Finis
Note: Hercules still got arrogant from time to time, like the time he was furious with Jason over Medea,or when he got caught up with trying to get Zeus' attention, but Iolaus metaphorically kicked his butt then, and every other time. Though Hercules, and Jason, continued to tease Iolaus during their Academy days and forever after, there was never again any malice in it…and he'd let them know when he'd had enough…most often, he just teased them right back. As a matter of fact, he usually started it! And, for the rest of his life, as best he could, Hercules tried to be the friend he knew Iolaus deserved to have, forever grateful for the gift of friendship Iolaus unconditionally gave to him.
Cheiron was as good as his word, finding Zack and the other two boys good homes. Zack grew up to be a healer, Thadius, one of the other boys, became a carpenter, and Androcles, the third boy, joined the army in Corinth, becoming a much respected general before the end of his career. Iolaus kept in touch with them over the years, and for all of their lives, he remained their own personal hero and inspiration.
