Justin Stewart hadn't always been slow to rise from slumber. On the contrary, when he was younger his parents had all but needed to tie him to his bed to get him to sleep! Blessed with the energy of a hummingbird and an exuberant, insatiable curiosity about the world, the young boy had spent as little time as possible touring the land of Nod. How could he be expected to waste time sleeping when there was so much to learn, so much to see and to do?!
This tendency had persisted even after his mother's death and his placement at the Angle Grove orphanage. On the night he'd rescued the guys from Lionizer and Astronema Storm Blaster had come for him at two in the morning. He'd spent the next four hours doing his hero thing and had just barely snuck into bed when Dad came into his room to announce they'd be going fishing today after all. He'd nevertheless been eager to get up and go, and he and Dad had spent one of their best days together.
It was only in this world that his sleeping habits had changed. There were the nightmares, of course. Terrifying visions of a sneering Solan ripping him apart in the arena, or of Kenny stabbing him straight through the heart with that little sword of his. Agonizing images of his father wondering what had happened to him, where he'd gone. In one of them he'd seen Dad kneeling only a few feet away, crying and pleading for him to come home. No matter how loudly he shouted Dad couldn't seem to hear him, and when he tried to go to his father the distance between them kept increasing instead of decreasing. The faster he ran the farther away he got, until he couldn't even hear Dad sobbing anymore.
For most people experiencing such terrible dreams would have led them to deliberately sleep as little as possible; by contrast Justin slept more. He came awake grudgingly, clinging stubbornly to unconsciousness for as long as he could.
Because as bad as his dreams were, as much as they hurt him . . . his reality was worse.
Today, however, he came awake eagerly, his eyes opening onto a room which had not yet received the light of the sun. There was something happening today, something very important that he had to do. What was it again?
Dadealus! That was it, he had to talk to Dadealus!
The famous inventor of Greek myth would be the best person possible for him to enlighten! Dadealus was known to be a genius, so the Greeks were already predisposed to listen to what he had to say. Even the Athenian philosophers would take heed of Dadealus' words!
Assuming he could get the man to listen to him in the first place, that was. Would Dadealus, too, dismiss him as a "beardless barbarian boy"?
He couldn't let that happen! This was his last, best hope and he could not afford to screw it up: Dadealus HAD to believe him! Ultimately Justin knew he could save the most lives through teaching Greeks about germs, how to treat disease, and the importance of sanitation, but that wasn't the where he needed to start. Like him, Dadealus was an expert in mechanical things. He would begin with the six simple machines then move on to the complex machines and to detailing the basic laws of physics. Once his credibility was established he could expand the scope of his teaching.
Iolaus had said Dadealus was attending the trial to support Hercules. He didn't recall any myths involving the two of them meeting, but apparently they had. If Justin could get Hercules to speak up for him that could help persuade the inventor to hear him out with an open mind. Should he try to get Hercules' recommendation before speaking to Dadealus?
It would be impossible to get any such endorsement now. Hercules was on trial and concerned with his own fate. And Dadealus must be pretty concerned as well. How would the inventor react to a strange boy wanting to educate him, him of all people, while his friend was facing possible exile?
How would he react if someone was trying to distract him while Solan was standing trial?
He wanted to see Dadealus right now! It was clear to him, though, that this wasn't the time. He would have to wait until Hercules' trial was finished.
Speaking of Hercules, the Greek hero had been nothing at all like what Justin had envisioned. He had pictured a Neanderthal-like giant clad in the skin of the Nemean lion, with biceps the size of basketballs. Based on Greek myth he had also figured Hercules would have a lethally quick temper, animal cleverness, but not genuine intelligence, and an overwhelming arrogance.
In fact the legendary hero was neither overly tall nor insanely built. He was a big man, no doubt about it, but he wasn't that large and proportionately he was actually less muscular than Justin's own kid Conan companion.
Nor did he appear rough-hewn and simple, like a caveman. His features were well-formed and classically handsome, while his eyes and expression were lively and alert, suggesting keen intelligence instead of the mental dullness Justin had anticipated. Hercules had gotten angry at Ares, sure, but hadn't fallen into the rage Justin would have expected, and he had evidenced what seemed to be genuine concern for Solan's welfare.
He couldn't understand why on Earth all of this should irk him as it did. It was much better this way, better for him and for Solan, who wouldn't have to deal with his precious hero being a disappointment.
As if stirred by Justin's thoughts of him, the figure on the other bed silently rose up, donning his cross-belts as quietly as possible before sitting down and slipping on his boots.
"Hey," Justin called.
Solan started at the sound of the fourteen year-old's voice.
"You're awake," he commented flatly.
"Yeah, I'm up early today," Justin agreed, sitting up and swinging his own legs to the floor. A twinge of pain shot through them both, but then it was no surprise they'd be sore after yesterday. And that was hardly the worst of what had occurred the day before, Justin reflected, his mood plummeting.
"I'm going down to get something for breakfast," Solan declared shortly as he headed for the door.
"Solan, wait a minute," he called, but his companion didn't hesitate.
Ignoring his protesting legs Justin stood and took a couple of quick steps toward the younger, taller boy.
"Hold on, please," he asked.
Solan shut the door again and turned to face his friend, his muscular arms folded across his deep chest.
"What?" he inquired challengingly.
Justin felt his own anger starting to rise, but he squashed it back down. Though still more than upset over what had occurred last night, he owed Solan an apology for the way he'd acted.
"You're right. Ares would have learned about you sooner or later, no matter what you did. I'm sorry for coming down on you like that. It's just . . . look what happened the last time a god wanted to make you into a conqueror! I can't go through anything like that again! Can you?"
The youth's thickly-muscled upper limbs dropped to his sides and his face no longer wore an expression of open defiance.
"I don't know," he admitted forthrightly. "But Justin, you don't need to worry! I won't let him hurt you; I'll protect you!"
The earnestness and sincerity in his voice was beyond doubt; he certainly believed what he was saying. Whether he'd be able to keep his vow or not was another matter, although Justin could draw some comfort from it being made even while he recognized the irony of the situation. When they'd first met a little over four months ago he was the one who'd been making reassuring promises to Solan!
In so many ways they really had switched places during the intervening time. What he was feeling now must have been something like how Solan had felt on the first day of the tournament. No wonder he'd accepted "Archon's" offer!
"And when this stupid trial is done I'm sure Hercules will help us! He's beaten Ares lots of times!"
You wouldn't know it from the way he'd stood there helpless while Ares teleported away, Justin thought derisively.
"Let's get something to eat, like you said. I'm sure Iolaus will be up soon and he can take us to the courthouse."
The two were out of the room and descending the stairs when Justin realized they had no money or food at hand. All of their coins and provisions had been left in the packs Alpha Seven was carrying! When he said as much to Solan the boy was unfazed.
"We'll just have to go to the stables first then."
Except Justin's aching legs didn't feel like going anywhere right now, especially since he'd made sure to put on his boots today rather than his tennis shoes.
"Could you go and get it? My legs are still sore from yesterday."
A flash of understanding shone in Solan's blue eyes and he nodded.
"I'll be right back," the overgrown twelve year-old promised, dashing off without betraying even the smallest hint of weariness from yesterday's marathon walking session.
Justin dropped into a seat at one of the wooden tables outside the inn, already glad to rest his legs. He wasn't looking forward to tonight's sparring session, but he couldn't disappoint his friend again. It was simultaneously amazing and aggravating, the way the blond, muscle-bound beast of boy could somehow look like a kicked puppy when Justin let him down.
Was it a trick, a deliberate effort to manipulate him? No, that was ridiculous! He knew from the time they had spent together that Solan didn't have a deceptive bone in his body; he didn't even have a subtle bone in his body! His face simply showed what he was feeling, all too clearly.
In addition to consideration for Solan's feelings, he needed the intense exercise and sparring session for his own sake. Yesterday's trek had been an unpleasant reminder of just how wide the gulf between the two boys' physical abilities remained. He might never be able to fully bridge that divide, but he should try to narrow it as much as possible, and that meant hard work.
He still had definite hopes of fooling Solan in armed combat with a feint sometime in the near future, in spite of the way the other boy seemed to read his body language like a book.
He sat there for a time, looking at the rising sun, until Iolaus came out of the inn's door and saw him.
"Hi," the man offered. Dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't rested well.
"Good morning," Justin answered politely.
"Mind if I have a seat?" the man asked, motioning to the bench Justin was perched upon.
The former Ranger shrugged and Hercules' ally dropped down onto the bench.
"So your friend's not up yet?"
"No, he is, but he went to get some of our money or food from Alpha Seven. That's our horse," Justin explained, seeing the questioning look on the adult's face.
"He didn't have to do that. I'd have treated the two of you," Iolaus offered.
"Thanks! Say, how do you and Hercules get the money to support yourselves?" the former Ranger asked curiously, his interest piqued. He and Solan still had a lot of drachmas left right now, but what were they going to do when those ran out?
"Well, Herc gets a lot of rewards from people he's saved and even from whole Greek city states! Plenty of the places where we go don't even charge us when they know who we are."
"So you get by on your reputations."
"On our accomplishments," Iolaus corrected.
Which was how he and Solan had gotten such a great price on Alpha Seven: through the accomplishment of catching the Red Valley Gang. The younger boy had been right; they did need for their reputations to spread.
"So what's it like, traveling with Hercules?"
"It's the life! You see all of Greece, have a lot of excitement, and you get to help people."
Justin nodded. That was the most important thing. That was exactly what he was trying to do.
"That's why this trial is so hard on Herc," Iolaus confided. "Czankas died impersonating Hercules, trying to do good by saving those children. Spensius is twisting things around to make it look like its Hercules' fault when people try to be like him."
"That's what Solan is trying to do: be a hero like Hercules."
"I think that's got him worried too, especially now that Ares knows about your friend. And he's so young to be doing this! Did you know that he's only twelve years old?"
"Yes, I knew. But I bet he kicked your butt while the two of you were sparring, didn't he?"
Iolaus coughed and glanced away to the side, looking embarrassed. "He's his mother's son, I'll give him that much. I think that's another reason why Hercules wants to keep him safe."
"From what he's told me how Xena's treated him Hercules might have to keep him safe from his mother," Justin observed ruefully.
As Iolaus opened his mouth to reply a shadow fell across them both.
"I brought all the fruit we have left, some bred, and some olive oil," Solan explained, setting the pack he was carrying down on the table between Justin and Iolaus.
"Hello, Iolaus! When does the trial start for the day?"
Closing his mouth and swallowing whatever he'd been about to say Iolaus instead answered the question.
"Not for another hour. We've got plenty of time to eat breakfast first."
As usual Solan tore into the food like a ravenous wolf. Iolaus didn't seem to have much of an appetite, picking at what he bought, but Justin was feeling the need to replenish some of the calories he'd expended yesterday and ate more than usual.
"Ready to go?" Iolaus inquired when they'd finished.
"I thought you said the trial wasn't starting yet," Justin pointed out.
"If we want to get seats we'd better go now. It seems like half the city comes to watch."
Like the O.J. Simpson trial from his time, Justin guessed. There probably wasn't a bigger celebrity in ancient Greece than Hercules.
"This way," Iolaus directed, leading them quickly to the marble-pillared courthouse.
The courtroom itself was made of less impressive gray stone, with three tiers of seats along one wall which were already starting to fill up. The chamber was lit by several free-standing black metal braziers placed near the pillars which supported the gym-sized room's roof.
The judge was a dark-haired, middle-aged man sitting in a stone chair placed so the light of the room's only window fell across it. He was dressed in a purple robe with gold trim and his gavel seemed to be a long staff with a pair of scales on its head encased in a circle of metal.
Across the courtroom Hercules sat chained in a similar stone chair, two armored guards holding halberds standing directly behind him.
As he, Solan and Iolaus settled into a space in the middle row Justin cast his eyes over the others seated here. Most of spectators were well-dressed and Justin assumed that this was primarily the top of Athenian society gathered to watch this trial. He looked from person to person until he spotted an elderly man with a full head of gray hair who was sitting in the front row. He wore a rough tunic and a cloth apron with several large pockets.
Excitement building he nudged Iolaus.
"Is that man in front Dadealus?" he whispered.
"Yes, it is," Iolaus let him know.
It was him! He really was here!
"Order in the court!" the judge commanded, bringing the butt of his staff down on the floor.
A short, bald man stood to the judge's right behind a waist-high stone desk, wearing expensive-looking silvery and maroon robes with a golden thread pattern stretching up both sides.
The lawyer scurried in, her arms filled with scrolls, and took her place behind her own stone desk.
The trial was about to resume.
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Solan shifted restlessly on the stone bench, glowering darkly down at the scene before him. This was even worse than being stuck on that ship! Although the boredom he'd endured aboard the vessel had been excruciating, it had arisen from a lack of anything to do. Here there was something he desperately wished to do, but he had to keep himself from doing it!
The young Warrior Prince longed to flip down to the floor and kick Spensius directly in the throat.
Not only did the man clearly deserve such punishment and more, but there was the added allure of finally silencing the little lawyer's deceitful tongue.
Witness after witness testified to the noble deeds and heroic labors of Hercules, but Spensius always sought to distort what they said against the great hero. His manner was loud, abrasive and hurtful to those he questioned. In short he was a bully, and Solan knew exactly how to deal with bullies! The problem was if he tried to do it here Justin would seek to stop him, the guards would attack him and he'd likely wind up in a cell too. So rather than take action to resolve this problem he was forced to sit and do nothing while that Athenian worm continued to verbally assault Hercules!
Hercules' lawyer, Dierce, had just finished questioning Jason, former Argonaut and King of Corinth before he had married Hercules' mother Alcmene and handed the crown over to Hercules' half-brother Iphicles.
Solan had secretly hoped to meet King Iphicles when he and Justin had brought in the Red Valley Gang, but his Majesty hadn't granted them an audience. Nor had the monarch chosen to attend the trial, although Hercules' mother had come in with her husband. As Jason took the stand in the center of the courtroom Alcmene went over to Hercules, who had stood at her entrance, and kissed him on the cheek.
For some reason the sight prompted a funny twinge deep inside the twelve year-old.
Alcmene then ascended the stairs and Iolaus moved Solan and Justin over to provide space for her. She took both of his hands as she sank down onto the seat beside him.
Under Dierce's questioning Jason announced that Hercules was his stepson and best friend. He praised Hercules' help on the first expedition to recover the Golden Fleece and went on to say how Hercules had turned his life around after he'd become a hopeless drunk in reaction to a "personal problem".
Solan assumed he was referring to the slaughter of his wife and children at the hands of Medea.
Then Spensius began his cross-examination.
"The second expedition for the Golden Fleece. Your idea? Or Hercules'?"
"Hercules'. It was a matter of honor," Jason explained.
"How many died?"
"Two, Otis and Valera.
"How many died on the first?"
"Four. What's your point?" Jason asked in obvious irritation.
"My point? That's how heroes think. The end, their glory, their honor, justifies the means, no matter how many lives are lost or how many families are ruined!"
"Hold it, that's not right, that's not the way it was!" Jason protested, but Spensius was already turning away, flipping a hand down toward the former monarch in dismissive disgust.
"Objection!" Dierce cried furiously, but her anger was a guttering candle compared to the inferno the exchange had ignited within Solan.
That worthless liar! Saving people's lives was the whole purpose, the very essence, of what it meant to be a hero! He had learned that from Justin, and Hercules embodied the principle of heroism! How dare this wretch claim the opposite!
Before he even knew what he was doing the Prince of Warriors was on his feet, his legs tensing beneath him as he prepared to leap down and vent his fury. He had been forced to surrender his sword and chakram at the door, but that didn't matter. He hardly needed weapons to beat Spensius bloody, and no one would be able to stop him in time.
As if from a long way off he heard someone hiss his name, and he felt a hand grab hold of his left arm.
Mentally implanted training and razor-honed battle instincts took over. With the speed of a striking serpent he broke free from the grasp and then his balled fist snapped back toward Justin's face.
He wasn't quite able to stop himself in time.
Justin fell back with a grunt, his nose already starting to bleed. Solan had at least managed to reduce the power of the blow enough to avoid breaking bones, though that was of little comfort at the moment.
Damn it! He hadn't meant to hurt Justin! He never, ever wanted to hurt his friend again! By Olympus, why had the Ranger grabbed him?! Justin knew better than that by now!
Shamed guilt quickly smothered the fires of his outrage and he immediately began to apologize and tend to the injury he'd done to the person he had sworn to protect, ignoring the hubbub which had broken out in the court and the judge's repeated calls for "Order! Order!"
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