12 Years after Heracles' birth.
"Come on, Heracles, before Cheiron notices that we aren't coming," the blond whispered. Glancing around nervously, the tree only half hid his position on the wall. It was always a risky thing to sneak away from classes. Their teacher was not the kind of being to treat lightly. His butt still hurt from the switch that had repeatedly hit it.
"Easy for you to hurry me along, you're not the one stuck to this tree," he hissed back, tugging at his trouser leg again. "If you're in such a hurry, you could give me a hand."
Iolaus climbed down to him, prying the trouser leg loose from the grasping branch. He shifted to maintain his balance, gripping as he did so. "Why you can't just rip it free?"
He just gave him a dirty look, which Iolaus ignored, as usual.
"You know, this would be a lot easier if you weren't so picky about your clothes."
"I am not. Mother wanted me to be presentable to meet King Erginus, who may foster me for a season," he retorted, pausing, a sound catching his ear. He and Iolaus exchanged looks. Then, as one, they stopped moving, almost holding their breaths.
From past experience they knew that if caught, they would both be punished. Alcmene did not like disrespectful behavior, especially towards those of her household. Heracles' punishment would be greater because he was older – and should lead by example.
Below them, some washer women appeared, arms loaded with fresh laundry. "Did you see him?"
"Oh, yes. He looks nothing like his father or his mother." One of them responded, the others looked around, nervously. This was neither the time nor the place to be discussing this scandal. They could get into trouble for even thinking such thoughts. Not to mention, to speak ill of the lady of the house was considered to be the worst kind of behavior, especially when one was as kind as Alcmene. "But his birth was so strange, what else can you expect?"
"So, it's true? The child isn't Amphitryon's son?"
"Well, one of those boys certainly is." The first woman spoke again, trying to regain the center of attention. While the other woman had been with the household longer, she'd been more aware of the signs of divine mischief. "But there can be no doubt that the other is not."
"I'm only surprised that she allows him to live unmolested, considering who the father of that boy obviously has to be." A new voice spoke up from the rear.
"Oh, didn't you know?" The second woman said, pausing to look at them all. In a hushed whisper, she told them, "A few months after they were born, two snakes appeared in the room and they went straight to his cradle. Before anyone could do anything, that boy strangled them both easily."
"You don't say."
"Shocking."
"Do you think his real father interfered?"
"Some say he did. But I'm not so sure. Had it been he, there would've been a sign revealing him. In cases like this, it has always been so. That way the divine child and mother would not be harmed by the wronged husband. Divine or not, it can't be easy for a mortal man to accept that his wife has bedded another man and born a child by him."
"I think she's waiting patiently for another chance to strike out him, after you know who's attention has been captured by another," a shiver passed through the group at the thought. It was no small thing to come to her attention. "She shouldn't have that long to wait, considering his past." They passed out of hearing, leaving the two in the trees curiosity unsatisfied.
"Heracles, who were they talking about?"
"Well, it's either me or Iphicles. You aren't one of my father's sons, though the gods know I wish it were otherwise." They finally freed the cloth from the entangling branched, made the climb, and descended to the ground below quietly. "So, now what do you want to do?" he asked, brushing his hands off and looking around.
It was actually amazing that they'd escaped at all. Usually Cheiron had caught up to them. The centaur must be getting slow – or had other things to occupy his mind. Neither thought was comforting to either boy, though Heracles had to admit that a day off from schooling was a relief. One could only study so many parchments and principles before wanting to follow Dionysius into murderous madness.
Iolaus shrugged casually, looking up at the sky, studying it to make sure that the weather would remain good for several more hours. His ability to read the weather was one of the only traits Cheiron approved of, said he'd make a mighty hunter one day.
If he could be counted on to pay attention to other matters of import, that was.
It was no good ditching if you there was no fun to be had. "It's too late to go into the market place to see the new goods. We might as well go back to class. Or we could…" he trailed off, a mischievous look entering his eyes.
Heracles felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He recognized that look all to well, having seen it often enough over the years. "We could what?"
"Nothing to worry about," he chuckled, knowing that tone of voice well. All too often, it had been justified for he'd well earned the reputation of a trouble maker. "We could check out this monster that I heard about who's been ravaging cattle herds, leaving behind nothing but blood and bones. Once in was done in Nemea it came here."
"Why not?" he said with a shrug. It sounded better than sitting inside and studying even if his mother would make them both pay for it later. The pair made their way down to the fields where Amphitryon kept his herds. When they saw nothing out of the ordinary, they made their way to the neighboring fields to have a look.
Suddenly, Iolaus paused and blinked, unable to believe what his eyes were seeing. "Heracles, look." He was pointing off to the right.
Humoring him, because he was pretty sure Iolaus had been teasing him, he looked. What he saw in the clearing startled him before he recognized the shape. "It's just a big lion." The words were slow in coming as he studied the beast, realizing that big didn't quite cover its size.
"A really big lion. May be we should go and get some help before it sees us," he suggested, backing up slowly.
The closer it got to their location, the more dread Heracles felt. "I think that's a great idea."
Watching its motions for a moment, they timed their walk to match its steps. Their backward movement, no matter how slow and even, caught the lion's eyes and he pounced on them. Struggling to free himself from the huge paws, Heracles saw that Iolaus was doing the same thing. Instead of continuing to try to free himself, he turned and helped his friend.
Once he was free, Iolaus tried to help Heracles but the boy shook his head, barely gasping out a…"Get help."
With one last sorrowful look, Iolaus took off for the town. Heracles had his hands full trying to keep the lion from chasing him. Using strength he didn't know he possessed, the youth wrestled with the creature, finally managing to get his hands around the neck and squeezing.
Tighter, a voice seemed to be saying, and twist.
Iolaus pushed his way through the men, expecting to find the mangled and bloody body of his best friend. Thoughts of that tragedy had haunted him on his entire run to the village. He stopped and rubbed his eyes, blinking them in consternation, again unable to comprehend what they were telling him, what they were seeing.
Though bloody and bruised, Heracles was fine.
The same could not be said of the lion which lay at his feet, dead.
Finally, he smiled, ignoring the terrified looks the village men were giving his friend. What did they know of real terror? Real terror had nothing to do with seeing a dead lion. Albeit a really large lion. It had everything to do with fearing that your friend would be killed because of your idea of fun.
It had to do with almost losing one's life on a foolish trip because one didn't want to be in school. This…this was a miracle. Iolaus wasn't going to ignore it just because those around him couldn't see past their own fears of his friend. He didn't know if he'd have been able to live with himself had Heracles died because of him.
So, he couldn't resist the opportunity that was presented before him to tease his cousin as he looked at the outfit that Heracles wore. The now mangled and dirty, torn outfit that he'd tried so hard to keep clean. "I can't wait to hear what story you have for Aunt Alcmene when she asks how you got into this condition."
"I thought I'd leave the explanations for you, Iolaus," he shot back, grateful for his friend's joking attitude. It hurt him deeply, the distrust and suspicion he saw in the eyes of the assembled men. Men he'd known all his life avoided being near him, though they were certainly willing enough to help carry the lion away. The cynical thought came to mind that they were trying to share in the glory, though they had done nothing to help.
Later the two sat in his room, staring out at the night sky. Heracles looked at his friend and smiled sadly. He could clearly read the question in the light blue eyes, a question he was unwilling to ask for fear of something. "What is it?" Giving him the opening he wanted.
Still, it took some more prompting before Iolaus would speak. "What happened after I left you?"
Heracles shrugged reflexively. "I honestly don't know. One minute, I was fighting this lion and knew I was going to die. You remember how that skin felt, tougher than any kind of metal. Cheiron said that it was impregnable. Anyway, something inside me changed. I felt my hands becoming stronger, become harder. These hands found his neck."
He was staring at his hands as though he'd never seen them before. As if he couldn't believe that they were the ones he was describing for they had lost that peculiar strength he remembered. "I heard a voice inside my mind, guiding my actions. Once it couldn't break free, he started to claw harder, to tear at my skin. The voice spoke softly, telling me to twist. There was a sickening pop and it fell over me, dead."
Iolaus whistled, something occurred to him then. It was with great hesitation that he broached the idea, "Heracles? Do you remember this afternoon?" After all, when one thought about what had been discussed, it was risky to talk openly about it. Those women weren't afraid for no reason if the god referred to was Zeus himself.
And what other god had such a vicious she associated with them?
"Remember it? How could I possibly forget it? Today is burned within my memory." And that voice had felt calm, accepting, and – most of all – loving.
"Mine to," he said softly. "But actually, I wasn't referring to the lion. I was talking about the women."
He looked at the blond, incomprehension on his face. He was still thinking about how he felt, hearing that voice speaking to him. From somewhere deep inside of him, he knew he'd heard that voice before. In his rare moments of fear, that voice had been there for him.
He just wished he knew what it meant to him for it hadn't been a male voice.
"You remember, the ones we heard talking," he prompted, watching as realization dawned on his face.
His head dropped into his hands and a groan escaped his lips. "Oh, this is bad. Do you think Iphicles knows?" But this made him question what he'd heard. As much as he wished to claim ignorance, he knew that only a child of Zeus' could be so feared.
Yet, if his father was Zeus and so concerned with his safety that he'd protected him from the serpents, why hadn't he heard him?
Iolaus shook his head, "Amphitryon would not speak of that to anyone without talking to you first. It isn't his way."
With a sigh, he nodded. "You're right."
"Of course I am. It doesn't change who you are, Heracles, just makes you more interesting."
"Interesting. Will you think so when Queen Hera tries to revenge herself upon me?" Slightly biting as he put a name to the nameless her referred to that afternoon.
Yet, something didn't feel right to him, thinking of her in such terms. It might have been his mother's devotion to that particular goddess for his mother was no fool, but he felt deep inside that there had to be more to it than that.
He shrugged carelessly. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, said with a smile and laugh. "Depends on what I get out of it all."
Heracles punched him in the shoulder, lightly. No point in hurting his cousin for his teasing attitude. "Greedy little stinker, aren't you?"
"What's the point of being friend to a possible demigod if you're not going to get anything from it," he quipped, punching back, fully aware that it wouldn't hurt him at all.
"Boys! Bed!" Alcmene's voice called over their good natured fighting.
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused. In moments, though the sight of the lion and death hung before their eyes, they were fast asleep.
654321
Heracles walked the length of the palace wall, turned and headed back. This was his second time on night watch and it hadn't improved his opinion of it any. Nothing really happened on his watch or on his buddies' watches. It seemed to be some kind of test for the men to see how well they handled the quiet, the solitude, the sheer boredom of the night. Character building, he almost heard Cheiron say, happens more often in the quiet than on the field of battle, boys.
The palace was situated on a high hilltop, positioned to look out over the entire breadth of the land and beyond. From this vantage point, the borders were clearly defined. With a sigh, he looked skywards to the moon, longing for something he couldn't quite define. Something was stirring inside him and he knew, with the certainty of most twenty year olds, that there was something more to his life than this.
There had to be.
Parting clouds revealed the moon in all its glory. But as it was not even half full, the night was not brightly illuminated. Truly, it was a night for their eyes to be alert and awake. Enemies were almost always threatening the gates as they clashed over land rights or sea trade routes. It had always been this way. And probably always would, Heracles thought with a wry grin.
The politics behind it always gave him a head-ache. He was grateful for the younger brother status that allowed him to escape it all. Iphicles was more suited for the political games they played at Court. He has more patience for fools than I, Heracles thought with an ironic grin. A part of him wondered where his brother had acquired such tastes for Amphitryon and Alcmene were not into politics.
But he was careful to keep such thoughts to himself. King Eurystheus was jealous of his position and liable to take the slightest word as a sign of treason. Though he was impressed by the youth's strength and abilities, he was also distrustful of them. After all, had it not been for a trick in the order of birth, Eurystheus would be the servant to Iphicles, not the other way around.
Suddenly, the alarm sounded from the west side. Like the other three men on the east wall, Heracles turned away from his post to see what the trouble was.
A party from Lerna was quickly approaching them, their colors were barely discernable under the soot and grime that clung to their clothing. "Grant us safety, we beg of you, King Eurystheus. We seek refuge from attack back home."
"And why should I make your enemies my own?" A high, nasal voice asked. Surprisingly, the voice belonged to none other than the king himself. Of medium height and dark complexion, his appearance was at striking odds amidst his men. Brown eyes studied the group intently, weighing their appearance against what he knew of their land.
"Our enemy will soon become your own whether you help us or not." The same voice responded. It was hard to determine if it was male or female pitched low as it was, but it was an honest voice.
King Eurystheus was sufficiently curious to allow them in. The doors opened slowly, over the advisors protests. The king looked at the assembled men and pointed to a few of them. "You five soldiers, escort them in and make sure that the Dowager Queen greets them in the Great Hall. Her opinion means much to me. The rest of you return to your posts, the night is far from over. I must see that preparations for their stay are started."
"I have already seen to it, sire." A low, melodious sound floated towards their ears. Queen Olena walked over to him, reprimanding him as she did so. The men heard her voice as they descended the stairs and started down the darkened street. "Though I find no fault with your decision, sire, it is most inappropriate of you to be out here and allow your mother to meet them especially as she is ill."
"You are correct as usual, my queen. Shall we?" His arm extended and they disappeared.
Heracles trailed behind the four, rather reluctant to be in this position. He couldn't figure out why he'd been chosen out of the more experienced soldiers. Uneasily aware that there was a certain honor to being a part of the party, he wished that he was back on the wall, bored.
Still, he felt pride in his king.
Instead of waiting for word of the situation as would have been prudent – and what his advisors would've been screaming at him, he had come to see what was going on himself. And the decision that he had made to let them in? Paranoid Eurystheus might be but he could also be generous. He just hid it under a thick layer of sternness and iciness.
Falling into an easy march, they met the refugees and led them into the palace.
Heracles watched the group warily, surprised to see them following a tall woman. Her dark blond hair was bluntly cut to end above the line of her shoulders. She possessed a pair of cold, grey eyes that seemed to scream hands off. As if she knew he was studying her, she turned to face him and raised an eyebrow, studying him. Then she turned, dismissing him firmly from mind.
Heracles had the oddest impression that she was testing him and found him lacking. It was the same feeling he got every time he talked with his mother. There was always a heavy sense of expectation in her every time they met. For what, he didn't know.
But he never failed to disappoint her no matter how hard he tried to be good and do better.
As quiet as the night was, there were still some people up and they turned to stare at them as they passed by. They must be an odd sight, regulation guard with pristine uniforms and their determined steps intermingling with the more homespun fabrics and the weary defeat of the Lerna refugees.
King Eurystheus was waiting with Queen Olena at the top of the stairs. Wine red hair flowed to her waist and her brown eyes sparkled in greeting. She was one of the few women Heracles knew who get away with not wearing the veil of a married woman. "Welcome, travelers. You must be weary, so we will not keep you waiting long. Are you hungry after your trek? From your lack of gear, I would say that you left in quite a hurry."
A blink of uncertainty was the only thing that betrayed their leader. Otherwise her face remained composed, very dignified in spite of her appearance. "I would not wish to impose more upon your generosity than we already have, sire."
She laughed, "I am Olena and it is no trouble at all?" she ended on a question, fishing for a name. One could order such a thing but she felt no threat and wanted to be in accord with them.
"Megara." The leader responded to the unspoken question. She bowed and introduced those with her quietly. "If you are sure that it is no trouble?"
"Not at all. Please, come inside and know no more fear this night. Tomorrow, we will discuss what is to be done about your situation. Are there more following you?" King Eurystheus gestured and they followed him.
Megara's head shook, "No. The creature scattered or killed them." It was a startling statement to hear. Lerna was not a small village. It was a densely populated area, so this creature must be huge and quite ruthless. What would they be called upon to fight?
"You have my condolences," Eurystheus murmured, turning to the soldiers. "You may return to your positions now." In his voice was a note of fear and concern for his people. Walled though his city was, it was nothing compared to the defenses of Lerna. If all of its protection couldn't offer safety to its people, what could he do?
"Sir." As one they saluted and left the room. But as Heracles left, he glanced back at the small band of refugees. There was a look on Megara's face that showed her disdain for words, she seemed to be calling for an end to words and a start on the solution.
The next day, he was woken up be a sharp rap on his door. "The king wants to see you, Heracles." His bunkmates, who'd been up with his that night, groaned and flung their shoes at him in protest.
Rising quietly, he pulled on a tunic and strapped on his short sword, then made his way to the throne room. Bowing, he addressed the king, "You wished to see me?"
"Yes. It seems that your fame has spread. You have acquired a new name, Heracles. The Champion, have you any knowledge of it?"
"No." The short answer was no denial. It was truth for he hadn't done any tremendous deeds since the lion. And that had been six years earlier.
"Lady Megara has come with the intent to lead you to Lerna. There you will destroy the hydra – the creature we heard of last night. At least, that's what the Delphic Oracle prophesied when they sought her counsel." There was a faintly accusatory note in his voice.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, trying to read the king's mood. Not being as adept as Iphicles, he found himself frustrated more than anything else. He had to remind himself to mind his temper for he couldn't afford to lose it.
With a frown on his face, Eurystheus contemplated the youth before him. Though they had been born moments apart, already the youth showed more presence and dignity than he did. "Do you think I am a fool, Heracles?" He waved the question aside, unanswered. "Never mind. If it were up to me, I would send you. But the choice must be yours."
"I defer to your wisdom, sire. In all honesty, I see no reason to argue with your judgment." Heracles asked slowly, "When would we be leaving?"
"As soon as you are ready. Megara's waiting at the stables, our swiftest steeds are ready. Shall I send word to your family?" Eurystheus offered, feeling generous now that the decision was made.
Shaking his head, he explained, "It would only worry mother." While he knew that she trusted him, he also knew that a greater reputation would reveal him to harm. More so on his end for he had a temper which had almost caused him grief a few times.
In fact, it was his temper that kept him at home instead of being fostered off to another kingdom. And had placed him in the service of Queen Hera, a fact that still sent shivers down his spine. Though she had yet to show forth her particular brand of mischief against him, he knew that it had to be coming.
"Very well." The king waited until he was at the door, then spoke once more. "And Heracles? Good luck."
"Thank you, sire." He bowed again before leaving. Stopping once to pick up his arrows, he made his way to the stables briskly. Upon entering, he looked around and saw no one. "Hello?"
"About time you showed up," Megara groused, coming out of one of the stalls in the back leading a dapple colored horse behind her. That horse joined two others near the rear exit.
"Three horses? We shouldn't need a third to carry supplies, you've packed as much as I."
"Oh, Herc, do you really think you could leave me behind?" a familiar tenor asked.
"Iolaus!" Heracles was pleasantly shocked. Shocked – and elated because every time he faced a new challenge, his friend had been with him. The only exception was the Nemean lion. The two embraced warmly for they hadn't seen each other since Heracles had been fostered to King Eurystheus. He wasn't even sure were Iolaus had ended up, though it looked like he'd actually become a hunter.
"Can we go now?" Megara impatiently asked. Obviously, as he'd thought upon meeting her previously, this was a woman who preferred action to talking.
"Yes, ma'am." Mockingly, they saluted her. It made him vaguely uncomfortable for the only woman whose orders he'd ever obeyed without question was his mother. Since he couldn't even make a remote connection to her in Lady Megara, this would take a little getting used to.
It was only when they had been riding for a few hours that Heracles thought to ask about the beast they were calling the hydra. He'd never heard of one. As such, he didn't know how they were to defeat it.
Or rather him, if Megara's words were to be believed.
It didn't sound as if he could use the same strategy that he'd used on the lion. Not that he wanted to get that close to another monster. If he had to go up against something impossible to defeat, he wanted to do it from a distance.
She told them all she knew, which wasn't much unfortunately. "It came to us about a month ago. In all honesty, we thought she was a serpent. Although, no serpent I've seen had such a human like bearing. At first, there was no indication of how dangerous she was.
"But then she grew much bigger and the attacks began in earnest. Many men tried to slay her but arrows had a hard time piercing her skin. Swords did more damage but they couldn't kill her. Then there is her breath."
"Breath?" Iolaus asked, following her into the forest. The path was narrow, so they were forced to ride single file.
"Mhmm. If she breathes on you, you'll die." Matter-of-fact.
"Sounds like fire," Heracles said, "Listen, Lady Megara…"
"Megara, if you wouldn't mind. Without my land, I have no title," she interrupted, guiding them to the left.
"Megara, then. I don't know what you expect of me. Oracle or not, I just don't think that I'm your champion."
"I'll agree with you there, Heracles. You're not at all what I imagined the champion to be. But I do not doubt the Oracle and her wisdom. She says that you are the one." She paused and looked back at him, "Have a little faith. The rest will follow."
Have faith, that's easy for you to say. But Heracles kept his doubts to himself and listened to Iolaus and Megara talk. Once again, he was grateful for his cousin's presence, the boy had always been better in the company of women than Heracles was. There was always a fear that he'd hurt them with his careless strength.
After a while, he started to look around, feeling eyes on him. He jumped slightly at the sight of a pair of greenish blue eyes. They were gone in seconds and he only saw an old lady hobbling by the roadside, a bag over her back. He dismounted, noting with some apprehension that his companions rode on, not having seen her.
Approaching her, he again felt like he was being watched. The wrinkled face turned towards him, wizened hands resting on the cane in them. "May I help you?"
"No. I am here to help you."
He raised a skeptical brow at her. "Forgive my doubt but how? All the warriors of Lerna fought this creature and failed. So, how can you be of any assistance where their strength did no good?"
She clucked disapprovingly, "Do not let your eyes deceive you, Heracles. Fighting involves more than weapons and muscle. They fought with their hands. You must fight with more than that. You must battle the hydra with your mind."
"I don't understand." But I want to, the words went unspoken. He had the oddest feeling that she was aware of them, though she remained bent and harmless looking.
"I think you do, my son." Wise eyes studied him. "The knowledge is within you."
Something tickled his mind, tugged at it, but he shook his head. Cheiron had often given him riddles to teach him to exercise control over his mind and to develop patience. It had only served to make him irritable and less interested in studying. He preferred solid answers, something he could see immediately.
Smiling in sympathy, she patted his hand. "I'll give you a hint. What is it that all creatures fear?"
"Hey, Herc, where are you?" Iolaus called out suddenly.
"My horse stumbled. We'll join you in a moment," he called back irritably, turning back to ask the crone for more information, startled to find her gone. Walking beside his horse, he pondered her strange riddle. As the trio approached the wrecked town, he was no closer to a solution.
And decided to tell his companions of the strange woman with her cryptic message.
"We'll camp here," Megara announced. "Iolaus, get some firewood. Heracles, clean the meat. I'll secure the area."
Over dinner, he told them what the old woman had said to him. "What do you think?"
"Fire," Megara firmly said, explaining when the two looked at her blankly. "Don't you know anything about nature? One would think a hunter of your skill would know this, Iolaus. Animals and men fear fire. Fire causes them to panic because it is hard to control and destructive. It can strike anywhere without warning.
"It was fire that was given to us by the great Prometheus. As a result, he was punished. To honor him, we keep the flame lit. We have learned to control our fear because we know how to control it – but it remains. Fire and lightening are close kins. As we fear Zeus and his rages, we fear the randomness of fire. But we value it no less."
They looked at the huge forest that surrounded the town and then back at her. "Are you suggesting that we set the place ablaze and hope it kills her?" Heracles asked.
"Don't be daft," she snapped. "We'll find her and set a controlled blaze around her. I have enough training in the magical arts to do that. Slaying her will be your job."
"Any ideas beyond that?" Heracles asked, "You've said arrows are no good. That swords increase her strength and size."
"Must I do all the thinking, champion?"
"How about burning her open wounds after cutting off her heads? Won't that stop them from growing back?" Iolaus spoke up. The two turned to him in surprise. He'd been so quiet, they had forgotten his presence. It happened so often that he took it calmly, even if it hurt.
As he was aware that it wasn't deliberate, it made it easier to take.
"Only one way to find out," Heracles grimly said, not rejecting or agreeing with the idea. In truth, he was not looking forward to going in with a half-baked plan – but at least it was something more than they had before. At least now they had some idea of what to do. Even if it was completely crazy.
The morning dawned clear and they made their way to the spring. A hissing sound caught their attention and they froze. Snapping into action, Heracles ordered them into their positions and strode boldly out into the clearing. Before him, a huge serpent was slithering by.
His appearance caught its attention as well. Nine heads swiveled to meet him. Eighteen pairs of eyes glittered hungrily in the shady light. "Breakfast," she hissed, pleased.
"Now!" Heracles hollered before he lost his nerve. Dodging her tail as nimbly as fear locked legs would let him, he rolled to the right and drew his sword. As the sound of flames licked the trees, he cursed himself for forgetting his bow back at the camp. While he knew that it wouldn't really do anything, it would keep the hydra from getting close to him.
Smoke chocked the air and his eyes watered as he searched the sudden darkness for both foe and friend. An arrow zinged by his ear and an angry howl rent the clearing. He wondered if it was Iolaus or Megara who'd fired the shot and how they'd managed to see through the smoke. Shaking off the thought as unimportant at the moment, he went back to concentrating on the battle, trying to hear above the cacophony of sounds rending the peace of the forest.
What birds hadn't been scattered by the fire, fled with cries of fear. Other animals, ones who were farther away from the epicenter of the battle, smelt the smoke and fled to higher, wetter ground. It was hoped that the nymphs would forgive them for the destruction of their woods. That Artemis would turn towards them in assistance and not anger for harming the wild things she protected.
Following the scream of rage and pain, he struck out and hit the hydra's side. Through the din, he heard it howl and felt a sharp sting in his shoulder. Another arrow pierced and widened the gap between them again. Hot blood stung his skin and he dived away from the biting, attacking heads.
"Herc!" Iolaus was suddenly there, sword in one hand and two blazing torches in the other. "Megara's got us covered, but she can only do so much before the smoke gets her."
Catching the blazing torch in one hand, he turned with a nod. Slashing the on coming head, he set the gaping hole on fire. His nose twitched and he flinched away from the scent of burning flesh that was all around. Bile rose up his throat and he forced it down, continuing to fight. There was a reason he hated – absolutely detested – being in or near the Temples on the days of sacrifices.
Madness surrounded them in this massacre. The hydra was vicious and faster than they expected, constantly ducking their swings and biting them. Scratching them, clawing them, she almost had them pinned beneath her greater weight before Megara's arrows drove her back momentarily.
With both men hacking away and burning the wounds shut, the fight was bloody but rapidly turning around in their favor. Struggling against death, she howled before they finally succeeded in tearing off her last head. They wrapped it up tight and burned the body and blood left behind.
No sense in taking any chances that another such creature could be raised from her remains. It wasn't unheard of that such things could happen to monsters. They could be born of Gaea without her consent and gain strength from her.
For a moment, they watched the flames eating at the barrier before stomping it out. They would take no chance that any of their flames would destroy more of the woods. "We'll have to replant the area before we go. Try to minimize the damage done," Iolaus murmured. Hunter though he was, he also valued the soul of the forest and the animals that dwelt there.
It was one reason he was so favored of the gods.
While waiting for the flames of the hydra's pyre to die out, they washed as thoroughly as they could in the murky water, wincing occasionally as the salty water hit open wounds. Megara tended the burns on his skin.
"Still have doubts?" she asked, once she began tending to Iolaus' wounds.
He didn't know what to say and was silent.
Iolaus and Heracles saw her off at the palace. "What are you going to do with that?" he asked, referring to the only head they'd kept from the slaughter.
Herc shrugged, "I'm thinking of giving it to Cheiron."
"Nothing says thanks for the boring lessons like something dead, Herc."
"Would you rather hang it on your wall?" he asked, a grin crossing his face. "I'm sure that'll bring the girls over in droves."
"I don't need the help," he sniffed.
"Yes, you do."
5 Years Pass:
Heracles' fame spread and he was forced to leave official service to the king. Unofficially, he was employed as both emissary and odd job man by Eurystheus. The situation was much more agreeable to both men and they reaped the benefits of the partnership equally.
At the moment, Heracles was sitting in Megara's kitchen, his head resting in his hands. She sat across from him, watching his behavior for a few moments in silence. Finally, she picked up the mug to his left and slammed it down in front of him.
He looked up, eyes wide with shock.
Their friendship –if one could call it that – had allowed them to become far more companionable than most males and females. And she'd stopped being so abrupt with him. So, the return to the somewhat adversarial relationship stunned him.
"What is your problem now, champion?" Her voice was intentionally sharp. "I've seen livelier faces in death."
"King Eurystheus' daughter wants me to get her the girdle of Queen Hippolyta."
She whistled, for once at a loss for a snappy reply. "Are you going to go?"
"I don't have much of a choice in the matter." His eyes were hopeful as he looked at her, remembering her quick fighting skills and leadership abilities. "You wouldn't by chance happen to be an ex-Amazon, would you, Megara?"
"I'm afraid not, Heracles. Why?" Megara asked, though she had a feeling she already knew. It was something she herself would've asked anyone who'd shown the same kind of talents that she had. While they were not uncommon in a woman around the Sparta and the lower half of Achaea, up here, a woman with those talents was rather unknown – unless she happened to be an Amazon.
He picked up the mug and took a sip before answering. "I need to know what to expect from them and how to react properly. Are they really as monstrous as I've heard?"
"They aren't." A toneless voice that couldn't quite cover the disgust she felt about the rumors about the Amazons answered him. "Let me get in touch with my cousin, Lycia. She is one. But I'd give up this hunt if I were you, Heracles. It can only lead to a confrontation with Ares – something which you should desperately avoid. He is, after all, the true protector of the Amazons," she finished, standing back up.
Heracles rose as well, "I know that. The last thing I need is to fight the god of war himself. As impetuous and hot headed as he is, he is still a fighter of considerable skill. I might be able to defeat him but it would be a long and hard battle. But like I said, Eurystheus has even less chance of getting out of this mess because of that brat's wishes. The late and dearly missed Queen would be ashamed of her. Unfortunately, she is his only heir and can't be spanked."
"Careful with your words, Heracles. You're coming close to sounding treasonous," she cautioned as they walked outside and he leaned against the doorframe. Privately she agreed with him.
"I'm not being treasonous. Eurystheus is the right person for the job. But that chit…she's really going to drive this kingdom to ruins if she doesn't straighten up soon," he sighed, seeing only disaster if that selfish brat continually had her way in everything. He really wished that Queen Olena hadn't gotten sick and been taken from the King's side.
Catching sight of the sun's position on the horizon, he pushed up and turned towards home. "Thanks for listening, Meg. I need to get going. Now that Iphicles is off training for war, mother wants me to do some work around the house."
"You think you'll finish her fence?" she teased him, grinning at his shamed blush.
"It isn't my fault that something always happens right after I start. And it isn't like Iolaus is around to help," he defended himself.
She quirked an eyebrow at him, "You are the strongest man in the known world. You've faced huge lions, horrible monsters, and defeated dirty stables. And you need help to build a fence? I can build one in less time than it has taken you, and I don't need assistance."
Flustered, he stammered for a few moments, before shrugging it off. "Well, Meg, you are far more capable than I."
Wisely, she said nothing to that comment. "I'll send you word after I get hold of Lycia."
"I'd appreciate that," he said, waving to her and walking down her path, making sure to close the gate behind him.
Megara reentered her house and sat down, thinking about what to write. This would be the trickiest letter she'd ever sent. "Let me think, they'd be wintering at the old homestead about now," she mused.
'Dear Lycia,
I'm sure you've heard of my new home and the friends I've made. There's one named Heracles. Yes, that Heracles. We're not friends in the conventional sense of the word but he is someone I can count on to come through for me in a pinch. And he comes to me for aid, making him a rarity among the men of this commune.
He has been charged to do a task that relates to you and your people. Please, we both desire your help to avoid a big mistake made by a selfish brat who thinks that she's entitled to whatever she wants, no matter the cost to others.
And refuses to be told that she can't. You know me, I rarely endorse spanking women. I hardly think it the right thing to do since we are rarely allowed to strike back even in the most justified of cases.
In her case, I make an exception.
Yours, Megara.'
Hoping that she'd respond, if not favorably, then at least with curiosity, Meg sent the letter on its way. That curiosity which had led Lycia to the Amazons in the first place had also kept them closer than most cousins. It was through Lycia that she'd met and become friends with the Amazons – and why she'd been allowed to train with them.
