A/N Thank you for the lovely reviews - I do look forward to getting them. A special thank you must go to Polly for the wonderful review of the last chapter - and for all the wonderful chats and encouragement she has been giving me.
I think it's probably fair to say that this is the hardest chapter I have ever had to write for any story. I hope it lives up to expectations.
Pythagoras looked long and hard at his friend. He attempted to smile reassuringly, hoping that it did not come out as a grimace.
"Alright," he said, coming forwards towards the brunette. "I said I would not push you, but if you are ready to tell me what happened then I am more than ready to listen. Whatever happened – whatever you have been through – know that I will never judge you. You are my friend and will always have my support."
Jason nodded, then swayed and closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness hit him, swallowing hard against the sickness that soured his stomach. Gentle hands firmly grasped his shoulders and eased him back down to sit on the bed. Opening his eyes he saw the concerned blue eyes of Pythagoras looking back at him, worry and tension written on his face as he crouched beside the bed, hands never leaving Jason's shoulders.
"Sorry," Jason mumbled, embarrassed.
"Are you alright?" Pythagoras asked.
"Yeah. I just get a bit dizzy when I stand up."
Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.
"And that is why you should not be trying to get out of bed on your own," he admonished. "I know it is frustrating, Jason, but you really do need to rest and regain your strength. Gaining some weight again would not hurt either."
Jason rolled his eyes.
"You know you're going to make someone a great mother one day," he said, smiling.
Pythagoras frowned.
"You know I am right," he said.
Jason looked around the room.
"Where's Hercules?"
"At the market," the blonde responded. "Why?"
Jason favoured him with a fragile smile.
"We should wait for him," he said.
"Why?" Pythagoras asked again.
"Because I'm not sure I'll be able to tell this story more that once," Jason answered, swallowing hard.
Pythagoras nodded, looking shrewdly at his friend and noting the slight tremors that Jason seemed unaware of. He stepped away from the bed as the brunette slowly swung his legs back in, obviously trying to make himself more comfortable, although his eyes betrayed the fact that he was miles away. Pythagoras moved to the table and began to cut a slice of bread, spreading it thickly with honey as he recalled Jason's comment about liking sweet things from the night before. He tried not to worry too much but the truth was that he was well aware that Jason's story was likely to be extremely unpleasant, and he could not help but be concerned when he thought about how telling it might affect his friend. Still it had to be better than the situation they were in at the moment – at least if he knew the truth he could try to find a way to help the brunette, even if it was just by being there for him. The door banged open behind him, startling him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Hercules striding into the room carrying what appeared to be several long poles and pieces of driftwood and a small piece of sheepskin. Pythagoras frowned in confusion.
"That is not the bread and milk I asked you to fetch," he pointed out.
Hercules laughed and clapped the mathematician on the shoulder, nearly sending him to his knees.
"Ah, yes, my friend. But you do not know of the piece of good fortune that I had," he answered.
Pythagoras closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
"Have you been drinking?" he hissed.
"I'll have you know that I am completely sober," Hercules answered.
Pythagoras just looked hard at him.
"Almost completely sober," the big man amended. "I met Medusa in the market fetching some things for the palace kitchens. She informed me that Princess Ariadne had instructed her to make up a basket of food to take as an offering to the Temple. She should be along with it any time now."
"That still does not explain the wood," the blonde argued, slightly mollified by Hercules' explanation.
Hercules looked uncomfortable.
"I just thought...," he paused awkwardly. "Jason's not really going to be back on his feet for a while..."
"No," Pythagoras agreed.
"Well he'll need a crutch to get around won't he," Hercules finished.
The mathematician smiled affectionately.
"Yes," he paused. "You are a good man, Hercules."
"How is he today, anyway?" Hercules asked, trying to change the subject.
"Tired. Hurting. Afraid... He is finally ready to tell us what happened."
"Are we ready to hear it though?" Hercules sighed, his face uncharacteristically serious.
"We have to be," Pythagoras answered with equal seriousness.
Hercules nodded his agreement, before standing to answer a soft knock at the door.
"Medusa," he smiled.
"Hercules. May I come in?"
As the burly man stepped aside, the girl entered the room and placed a full basket on the table. Pythagoras breathed in an enticing aroma emanating from the basket and looked at Medusa quizzically.
"Spiced honey cakes," she answered his unspoken question. "They will still be warm. Jason did say he liked sweet things didn't he?"
At Pythagoras' answering nod, she smiled.
"There is also bread, milk, cheese, meat, olives and oil in there. Oh, and a couple of pies. Princess Ariadne was most insistent that there should be pies," she smiled again. "I made up the basket myself." She looked around at the serious faces. "What's going on?" she asked, smile dropping.
"Jason wants to talk to us," Hercules rumbled.
"What about?"
"He wants to tell us what happened," Pythagoras answered, taking a warm cake and placing it on a plate. Quickly and quietly he made his way to the corner alcove and stopped, looking at his friend.
Jason was leaning back against the wall, staring out of the window at the bright day with unseeing eyes. A soft noise from Pythagoras brought him back to himself and he turned and smiled wanly at the mathematician, raising an eyebrow at the plate in the blonde's hands.
"You need to eat," Pythagoras stated firmly, pressing the still warm cake upon his friend.
It was all Jason could do not to grimace. Bad memories tugged at the edges of his consciousness and fear at the thought of having to relive them had settled like a stone in his stomach, robbing him of what little appetite he had had to start with. Still he didn't want to offend his friend. Pythagoras had been so kind to him ever since he had arrived in Atlantis and he felt he owed it to the young genius to at least try to do as he asked. Taking the plate from the mathematician, he started to listlessly pick at the warm cake.
"The idea is to eat it not play with it," rumbled Hercules.
Jason looked up, startled, to see the big man leaning nonchalantly against the pillar at the end of his bed, Medusa standing next to him, her hands clasped in front of her. He swallowed hard.
"Okay," he croaked looking back at the quietly waiting Pythagoras. "Alright. I'll tell you what happened."
Four and a Half Weeks Earlier
As he exited the house, Jason felt the smile dropping from his face. He sighed. It still stung to recall what Pythagoras had said to Hercules the night before no matter how much he tried to persuade himself that the words had been said in the heat of an argument and had not been truly meant. Still it would not hurt to get out of his friends hair for a while and the gods knew that the money he could earn from this job would definitely come in useful. Hoisting his bag higher onto his shoulder, he slipped out into the street unaware that Pythagoras was watching him go with some concern from the balcony overhead.
The taverna where Jason was to meet Dakos was deserted and dark at this time of day – it was too early even for the drunks – most of whom would still be sleeping off the effects of last night's drinking – either in the comfort of their own beds or in a gutter somewhere. The young man stepped through the doorway and squinted, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkened room after the bright sunshine outside.
"Hello," he called softly.
As his eyes adjusted, he could see the merchant and his bodyguard at the far end of the room deep in conversation. Dakos handed a small pouch to the giant and turned away as the man left through a back door, eyes hooded and lips pulled back into a feral sneer. He looked so different from the person Jason had met the night before that it was all the young man could do not to turn and run back home as fast as he could. As Dakos saw the brunette his face morphed back into that of a genial and prosperous merchant and he came forward.
"You're late," he said sharply.
"I'm sorry," Jason answered. "I thought we agreed one hour after sunrise."
"Well you're later than I would have liked." The man's face relaxed into a smile and his voice took on a more friendly note. "No matter. There is no harm done." He sighed. "I am very much afraid that there has been a change of plan. You and I will still be joining the caravan to Helios this morning, but I have had to send Aegon to Pathmos on urgent business. I myself will be joining him there as soon as my business in Helios is concluded and we have returned safely to Atlantis." He smiled at Jason, but it was in no way a truly friendly smile and the young man struggled to keep from visibly shuddering. "You have travelled to Helios before?"
Jason nodded, remembering the journey he and his friends had made with Nilas' caravan just a few short weeks before.
"Yes," he answered.
"Good," Dakos said. "Then you will know what to expect. We must leave to join the caravan. My belongings are over there," he nodded to a darkened corner of the bar.
Jason turned, frowning, uneasy, and collected the merchant's luggage. There were two leather bags and a box, awkward but not heavy, and he paused, adjusting the load in his arms, before following Dakos out into the street. Trotting to keep up with the stride of the merchant, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he was being watched. He stopped, ostensibly to adjust the load in his arms again, but in reality so that he could surreptitiously look around himself, trying to pinpoint where the uneasy feeling was coming from.
"Keep up boy," Dakos called impatiently over his shoulder.
With one last look around, Jason set off again, still worried. Suddenly this job did not seem as easy as it had appeared to be the night before and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong no matter how hard he tried.
Pythagoras stared in exasperation at his friend.
"So if you were that worried why did you continue?" he asked sharply.
Jason looked down at his hands.
"Because no matter how much you stretch it the amount of food for two will not feed three for the same length of time," he mumbled.
On hearing his own words from so many weeks ago, Pythagoras exchanged a horrified look with Hercules before turning back to the brunette, his distress written on his face.
"The night before you left, when Hercules and I were arguing, I thought I heard a noise on the stairs," he said, his tone anguished. "That was you. You heard every word I said."
Jason continued to look at his hands, confirming Pythagoras' suspicions by his silence. The mathematician sat down on the edge of the bed and caught one of the tanned hands in his own pale ones.
"Jason I am so sorry," he said. "I was angry at Hercules and had had a bad day. I did not mean half of what I said in the heat of the moment."
"What you said was true though wasn't it," Jason answered sadly. "I have made your lives harder by being here."
Pythagoras swallowed past the sudden lump that formed in his throat.
"I would not change a thing," he said earnestly. "You are good and kind and honourable. And more importantly you are my friend! Besides, at least half of our misadventures are the fault of Hercules not you."
"Oi," the big man said.
Pythagoras smiled up at him with affection, before turning back to Jason.
"You should not have taken a job you were worried about," he said seriously.
Jason shrugged.
"It wasn't bad at first," he answered. "We crossed the desert easily – at least compared to last time. Didn't even see a single bandit. And once we were out of Atlantis Dakos relaxed. Treated me more like a companion than a porter. Certainly never treated me as if I was a servant. In the evenings he'd tell me stories about the gods, or legends he'd heard, or about the places he'd visited. I actually quite liked him."
Three and a Half Weeks Earlier
Jason was bored. Completely bored. Things might have been different if he had had Pythagoras and Hercules to explore Helios with. As it was he had been relegated to sitting still in stuffy rooms listening to Dakos conduct business (and it wasn't as if he'd ever been good with meetings in his life before Atlantis – had always struggled to keep still and pay attention – and sometimes just to stay awake) or to wandering the sun-bleached streets alone and listless, trying not to get lost in the rabbit warren that was Helios. So it came as some relief when Dakos told him that their business had been successfully concluded and they would be returning to Atlantis in the morning. The merchant was in surprisingly good spirits that evening. Apparently his business had gone better than expected and he had made a handsome profit, the small box that Jason had carried to Helios for him and had transported back and forth to the various meetings now heavy with gold. He smiled almost affectionately at the young man and informed him that there might even be a bonus when they got back to Atlantis – as long as they got back safely.
The first two days of the journey back across the desert had been as uneventful as the journey out. The caravan they were travelling with had stopped for the first night at the cave where the Furies had so nearly claimed Pythagoras. Jason shivered slightly at the memory. It was the following night, when they were staying in the cave dedicated to the shrine of the Furies that disaster struck. Having bedded down for the night, Jason was roughly awoken to find a sword point at his throat with a toothless bandit leering down at him from the other end of it. The other members of the caravan had already been captured; the watchman already dead. They were herded deeper into the cave and surrounded by armed men. What was surprising was that all of them apparently still had their belongings and the men seemed to be content to leave it that way, making no move to rob the people they had just captured. In fact they seemed to be waiting for something or someone. Even as the thought crossed Jason's mind a small vicious looking man in brightly coloured robes entered and stopped, looking at the group as a predator might look at its prey.
"My friends," he said in a quiet sibilant voice. "It would appear that you are in something of a situation here. One of you has something I want. One of you is a thief. I have searched for this... item... for many years. And I will have it!"
He came forward and started to examine each of them in turn.
"What is it that you want," Callimachus the caravan leader asked, fearfully.
"A small item. Just a little thing. A ring. That is all. Just a ring. It once belonged to the King of Lydia and was stolen from his palace years ago. It has passed through many hands since. Has been stolen many times. And now I have it on good authority that someone in this caravan knows where it is. Someone is a thief." He gave a reptilian smile. "Tell me who the thief is. Tell me what I want to know and I will let you all go with your lives and property intact – all except the thief. I wish to have a... discussion... with him about the whereabouts of the ring."
"How do we know we can trust you," Callimachus asked.
"You don't," the leader responded, "but I am good for my word and I swear I will allow you to leave unmolested and unharmed. I wish only to find the Ring of Gyges. Nothing more."
"The Ring of Gyges?" scoffed Hercules. "Are you sure that's what he said?"
Jason gave him a sour look.
"I don't think I'm likely to forget it in a hurry," he answered with some asperity. "Why?"
"The Ring of Gyges is just a story, Jason," Pythagoras said reasonably. "It was supposed to grant the wearer invisibility. But if there ever was such a ring it disappeared hundreds of years ago."
"I know what they said," Jason responded stubbornly. "It might just be a story but it's what they said they were looking for."
Pythagoras patted his hand reassuringly.
"I do not doubt that," he said. "Now what happened next?"
As the bandit leader stalked around his group of captives, Dakos the merchant came to a decision. He looked speculatively at the short man and muttered a brief prayer to the gods that he'd had the foresight to slip that jewel into the lad Jason's coin purse earlier. He stepped forward.
"My Lord," he began unctuously, "I have reason to believe that you are correct. There is indeed a thief among us," he smiled in an ingratiating manner.
The leader stopped.
"Go on old man."
Dakos took a deep breath.
"Earlier, while he believed I was sleeping, I saw my porter take a jewel from my belongings. I believe you will find it on him if you search him. I was going to allow him to think he had got away with the theft and then turn him over to the authorities when we arrived back in Atlantis, but in light of all you have said..."
Jason was incensed.
"That's a lie," he shouted.
The leader of the bandits turned towards Jason, reminding him of nothing so much as a snake.
"It should be fairly easy to prove or disprove," he said smoothly.
"My Lord," Dakos interjected, "I also believe I saw the boy hiding something at the stables before we left Atlantis. My eyes are not as good as they used to be but I believe I saw a flash of gold. I believe that if you question him you may find that is where your ring is hidden."
"He's lying," Jason responded hotly.
"Search him," the leader instructed three of his men.
While two of them pinned the young man's arms, the third reached for his coin pouch and tipped it out. Nestled amongst the meagre coins was a brilliant and large ruby. Jason stared at it, his heart sinking. He had no idea how the gem came to be in his possession but he knew it had sealed his fate. The bandit leader smiled viciously.
"It would appear that I have indeed found my thief," he said coldly. He turned towards the rest of the group. "You are free to go. Collect your things and be on your way before I change my mind." He turned back to Jason as the young man began to struggle against his captors. "We have much to discuss," he said and nodded at one of his men, standing behind the boy.
Jason fought to free himself from the iron-hard grasp of his captors until a sudden sharp blow across the back of his head stilled his struggles and brought instant unconsciousness.
Hercules swore.
"You were set up," he said.
"No... whatever gave you that idea," Jason responded sarcastically. He flushed with embarrassment at an admonishing look from Medusa. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Apology accepted," Hercules rumbled.
When Jason awoke the first thing he was aware of was that he was most definitely no longer in the cave of the Furies. For a start there was no statue, no shrine, and for seconds he was pretty sure that the Furies' cave didn't have rings attached to the wall and a hook dangling from the ceiling. Someone had removed his sandals, perhaps trying to ensure that he would not get far if by some miracle he did manage to escape. He attempted to rub his aching head, but found his hands were bound. Trying to pull his muddled thoughts back into some semblance of order, he shivered as the biting cold finally seeped through, chilling him to the bone. While this was obviously a cave, the presence of a door across the entrance told him that the cave had been used and altered by men – turned into some kind of cell. Before he could summon up the energy to investigate further the door banged open and the bandit leader swaggered in, flanked by three or four enormous and cruel looking men. The leader walked over to Jason and smiled in his reptilian way.
"My name is Galanus," he said. "What is yours?"
Jason remained stubbornly silent, looking up at the man with fury.
"No matter," Galanus smirked. "You will tell me soon enough."
He snapped his fingers and two of his henchmen grabbed Jason and hoisted him up so that his bound hands dangled from the hook in the ceiling, shoulders stretching painfully above his head, his toes barely touching the floor. One of the others came forward then, a vicious looking monster with broken teeth who smiled at the thought of what was to come. He punched Jason hard in the stomach, hitting him repeatedly, trying to beat him into submission.
"I ask again," Galanus said, "what is your name?"
Jason bit down hard on his own tongue to keep himself from crying out, refusing to give this man any satisfaction.
Galanus smiled at his henchmen.
"Call me when he is ready to talk," he said.
The thugs crowded around Jason, taking it in turns to beat him as he hung defenceless. As Galanus reached the door the first screams were ripped from the boy and he smiled with pleasure.
Jason looked between his friends, noticing how visibly upset all three were.
"Do you want me to go on?" he asked in a small voice.
Pythagoras took a deep breath and nodded, patting Jason's hand reassuringly.
He'd lost track of how long the beating had gone on. All he knew was that he hurt all over – bruises already turning black all over his arms and torso. He was fairly certain several ribs had been fractured and it hurt to breathe too deeply. At some point his captors had brought out their knives, inflicting cuts over his arms, chest and back. None of them were deep enough to do any serious damage – they were designed to hurt as much as possible while still keeping him alive for as long as his captors needed him – and they bled sluggishly, soaking his ruined tunic and leaving his skin slick with his own blood. Galanus had returned halfway through the torture session, obviously tired of waiting for Jason to break down, and had started questioning him again – where was the ring of Gyges; what was his name. Jason had no answer to the first question – although he doubted he would have told Galanus even if he had known – and he wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him broken by answering the second. As the torture continued he wondered, not for the first time, whether his own stubborn nature was going to get him killed this time. Then as suddenly as it had began everything stopped. He was dragged down from the hook and left on the floor of the cell as the men filed out. The door slammed and he heard the turn of a key in a lock.
Now he crouched in the darkness by the door waiting for someone to come back. This time he would be ready for them; would be ready to make an attempt to escape. The door sprang open and he waited to see who would come through it; waited to make his move. There was only one guard carrying a cup of water and a hunk of bread. Jason almost smiled and sprang into action, hooking the rope that bound his hands around the man's neck. Once he was sure the guard was unconscious, he cautiously stepped through the door, looking around for further threats.
He was almost outside when they caught up with him, hard hands grabbing at him from out of the darkness. He bit and kicked and fought as best he could, feeling them ripping at him, catching clothes and skin alike with their knives and nails. Finally, when they had him completely subdued, they dragged him back to the cell where Galanus awaited him.
"It appears our little friend does not like our hospitality," Galanus almost purred. He looked at Jason coldly. "We will have to see what we can do to prevent you trying to leave us again."
He picked up a hammer and hefted it a few times as his men pinned Jason to the floor, watching the boy's eyes grow wide with fear. Smilingly he swung it repeatedly at Jason's foot, never breaking his rhythm even as the young man's howls of agony filled the room.
A firm hand grasping his knee gently brought Jason back to reality. As he became more aware of his surroundings he realised that he was shaking, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He looked up shakily to see Hercules looking back at him, his broad face concerned.
"Back with us now?" the burly man asked.
Jason nodded, beyond speech for the moment as he tried to get his erratic breathing back under control. He half turned as he felt a warm weight at his back and discovered that Pythagoras had slipped around behind him and was holding him gently, his back pressed to the mathematician's chest.
"You were shivering," the blonde explained, as he rubbed his hands comfortingly up and down Jason's bare arms.
The brunette sighed and took a deep breath before plunging back into his tale.
Two Weeks Earlier
The cell wall was cool to touch in the stifling heat. Jason lay, tethered like an animal by means of a collar and rope, tied to a stake, shivering in the darkness. He had been tied like that ever since he had tried to escape. Galanus knew it was unlikely the boy would try to escape again with his foot badly broken but the collar would serve to break his will a little more. As far as Jason could tell he had been held for about ten days now, beaten and tortured every day. He no longer even dreamed of being rescued. Even if his friends knew where he was he doubted they would be able to get past the guards; doubted that he would have the strength for much longer to leave even if they did. He knew without doubt that several of his ribs were broken – had been re-broken by further beatings even as they tried to heal – and his left foot was a misshapen mess of agony that lanced through him every time he moved. He also knew that several of the knife cuts were infected and were likely to only get worse as time went on. The guards no longer bothered watching him closely, assuming that he was too weak to escape – that his will was too far broken. He hadn't spoken for days – throat raw and voice made hoarse by days of screaming – had retreated into some dark corner of his own mind – his captors knew that death couldn't be too far off now and were sorry; the boy had been so deliciously stubborn. Even after everything he had been through he had told them nothing – not even his own name.
Jason struggled to rise even as the cell door was flung open and the worst of his tormentors swaggered in – more beast than man. He was alone, the other guards having found better things to do than to torment an apparently half dead and broken boy. Hard hands grabbed Jason's shoulders, nails biting into the soft skin viciously, as his captor drew his lips back from his broken teeth in a snarl.
"Time to make you scream."
The brunette clutched the shard of sharp stone he had found on the floor of the cell in his hand, knowing that this might be his last chance. The man dragged him to his feet by his hair, kicking him brutally in the knee when he was halfway up and laughing as the boy fell forwards. Never relinquishing his hold, he withdrew a ragged edged knife from his belt and held it up where the young man could see it.
"See this, boy?" he asked. "You won't be so pretty when it's finished with you. Not so pretty at all." He smirked viciously. "But first I want to see if you can still bleed."
Dropping the knife out of Jason's line of sight, he plunged it deep into the lad's abdomen, moving it from side to side to cause more pain. He would have to work quickly. Galanus was out with the other men at the moment leaving this one alone to guard the captive and he would not take to kindly to anyone damaging his "pet" without permission. Jason's eyes widened as the knife was withdrawn, fresh blood running freely down his stomach, although he made no sound – much to the disappointment of his tormentor. Suddenly, he brought his hand up and drove the stone shard deep into his captor's eye, gagging as he felt the eyeball give way. The man screamed like a stuck pig as he fell to the floor, dragging the young man down on top of him. Jason leant forwards, burying his right forearm in the man's throat and leaning his entire weight on it. It was all over remarkably quickly. Jason rolled off his now dead companion and lay for a while, panting on the floor. It came to him that if he was going to escape he had better get on with it, so he sat up and began to search the dead man's body, trying to avoid looking at the ruined eye as he did. On finding a key he unlocked the collar around his neck and, picking up the knife still slick with his own blood, stood up. As his broken foot touched the floor he let out a low keening noise – a feral, animal sound – but forced himself to stay standing, knowing that there would be no other chance of escape and no one else to save him. Slowly, steadily, half limping and half staggering, he dragged himself towards the door and freedom.
Jason swallowed hard and looked around at his friends.
"I don't remember all that much after I escaped," he admitted. "I could see some rocks in the distance that I thought I recognised – they look a bit like an eagle if you turn your head to the side and squint – and I knew that Atlantis was about half a day's ride from them. As near as I can tell I was walking for about four days," he paused. "When I got to Telapius Gate the guard tried to stop me – I think he might even have been trying to help me – but all I could think about was getting home."
Pythagoras moved back around in front of him, his blue eyes compassionate.
"The worst thing is," Jason continued, "that they're still there whenever I close my eyes. Beating me. Tormenting me. And sometimes, when I first wake up, I can't tell what's real and what's the dream. And I think I'm still there – that I'm only dreaming about being home," he paused again. "And sometimes in my dreams they leave me there in the darkness, hanging from that hook, waiting to die. But the worst times of all, you come," he looked at Pythagoras. "You and Hercules are there and I think you've come to save me. But you don't. You tell me that I'm not worth saving. That I was never really your friend. And I know it's not true but it always feels so real," he finished in a broken whisper.
Pythagoras closed his eyes in pain, before pulling his friend into a gentle embrace, mindful of broken ribs and bruised flesh – healing but not yet healed. For a moment he thought that Jason would resist, but then felt a pair of arms snake around his waist. Jason dropped his head forward to rest on Pythagoras' shoulder and the mathematician felt the shoulder of his tunic growing increasingly wet as his friend was racked with silent sobs. Knowing that this was the release that Jason needed he didn't say a word, just held the brunette securely, lithe fingers tracing soothing patterns on his friend's back. Eventually the silent tears stopped and he felt Jason's breathing even out, becoming deep and slow. Gently he eased his now sleeping friend back onto the bed and covered him with a blanket before turning towards where the other two waited, tears in his eyes.
It was night time when Pythagoras stepped back into the main room of the house to find Hercules whittling at one of the poles he had brought in earlier – hacking at it almost angrily. He had escorted a crying Medusa home sometime earlier, leaving her with the promise that he would send for her the instant she was needed. He looked up at the blonde mathematician, face hard.
"How is he?" he asked.
Pythagoras sighed.
"Still sleeping," he admitted gratefully. "He has a slight fever, although I suppose that is only to be expected – today has taken a lot out of him."
If anything Hercules' look got bleaker. He shook his head slowly.
"How in the name of the god's did he survive," he asked, not really expecting any answer. "Not just when he was prisoner, but a four day walk when he was that badly injured with no food and water?"
"He is Jason," Pythagoras said, not having any other answer. "He is special." His blue eyes hardened. "That man, Dakos, must have known what would happen to Jason. I just wish there was some way we could make him pay."
Hercules nodded.
"First we need to find him."
"And how do you propose to do that?"
"Just leave that to me," Hercules answered seriously.
