A/N Two chapters in two days - what is the world coming to? I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.
Thank you once again for the reviews. I'm now going to be completely shameless in begging for more :-)
Jason raced blindly through the crowded streets, not really looking where he was going, simply needing to get away. He wasn't really sure what he was running from – himself perhaps; his own memories and demons. In the wake of the conversation he had just overheard the horrors of last night's dream assaulted him again. On through the agora he ran, barging into people and sending items of produce flying in his wake, yet not even pausing to apologise as he normally would. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the affronted and annoyed cries of the merchants he ricocheted off or whose wares he sent tumbling but all his conscious mind could think of was the need to put as much distance between himself and other people as he could.
Pythagoras had watched Jason tear past him with surprise. Weren't they supposed to be going to get some food for Isosceles together this afternoon? His surprise instantly turned to worry. Jason would never normally break an arrangement like that without having a very good reason. He turned and ran after his friend, elbows flailing. By the time he had got to the agora, Pythagoras slowed. There was no way he would catch up with Jason like this. At the best of times his brunette friend was faster than he was and if the trail of destruction that Jason had left behind him in the marketplace was anything to go by then he was probably moving at top speed, not even pausing to try to apologise for any of the things he had knocked over. If his feet weren't going to be fast enough to catch the dark haired young man, however, his brain most definitely was. Pythagoras stopped and looked about him, thinking hard. Where would Jason have gone? The direction he had run in was evident from the number of knocked over items and grumbling stall-holders. Pythagoras was almost impressed by the sheer amount of chaos his friend could cause in such a short space of time without even trying. Smiling ruefully to himself, the mathematician started moving again, picking up his pace to a steady trot, and picking his way past aggrieved merchants as he went. It would probably be best if he kept Jason away from this part of the market for the next few days, he noted – at least until the stall-holders had had the chance to calm down a bit. Sometimes it seemed to Pythagoras that all he ever did was apologise for his friends or try to keep them out of trouble. He sighed. That was unfair and he knew it. Hercules' scrapes normally resulted from his drinking, his gambling or his love life and could therefore usually be classed as being his own fault. Jason, on the other hand, seemed to attract trouble without even trying – although whatever difficulties he got his friends into, he equally tended to be the one to get them out of it. Pythagoras himself was not actually immune to getting into scrapes himself, although he invariably felt immensely guilty for any trouble he caused.
Sighing again at his own wandering thoughts, the mathematician dragged his mind back to the immediate task of finding Jason. There were really only a few places the young man was likely to go if he was upset. Home was one of them – the one that Pythagoras would have put money on under normal circumstances – although with the way things had been going lately the young genius immediately discounted the idea that Jason might have gone there. Things had been far too tense at home over the last couple of days for Jason to voluntarily go there when he was clearly upset. The other possibilities were the Temple (although just why he seemed to find comfort there was anybody's guess given his lack of knowledge of the gods) or, given how much he had seemed to enjoy being there yesterday, the beach. Pythagoras looked at the direction his friend had obviously gone in. The Temple it was then.
Crossing the square Pythagoras saw his friend sitting on the steps of the Temple, much as he had the first day Jason had arrived in Atlantis and had been to visit the Oracle at the blonde's urging. The difference was that Jason's face was buried in his folded arms, resting on his knees, rather than looking out across the city. Pythagoras felt his heart clench. His friend looked so lost – so small – right then that it was almost physically painful to look at him. The mathematician hurried up the steps and sat down next to Jason, their shoulders almost touching. The brunette lad did not raise his head and gave no outward sign that he knew his friend was there. Pythagoras sat quietly for a few minutes, unsure of what to say; unsure what was troubling his friend.
"I'm sorry. We were supposed to go and get food for the cat weren't we?" Jason said suddenly, without looking up.
Pythagoras smiled softly and looked out across the square.
"Yes," he admitted, "but it does not really matter. I will go later." He turned and looked at Jason seriously. "What troubles you my friend?" he asked gently.
Jason snorted, but did, finally, raise his head and looked straight out over the city.
"It's nothing," he said. "I just heard something earlier and it triggered some bad memories."
"What memories?" Pythagoras pressed in his gentle but firm way.
"They're not important," Jason responded.
"They are if they are troubling you," the blonde countered.
Jason sighed.
"Have you ever had memories that you'd rather not have? That you'd do anything to forget?" he asked.
Pythagoras didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow. Jason blushed.
"Of course you have," he berated himself. "Your father... I'm sorry... I didn't think." He trailed off into silence, eyes far away.
Pythagoras let him sit in silence for a moment before placing his hand reassuringly on Jason's shoulder. He was startled and a little upset when his brunette friend flinched at his touch, pulling away slightly.
Jason bit his lip and looked at the blonde.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm not sure why I did that. I can't seem to help myself. I've been jumping when anyone touched me all day."
"And yesterday too," Pythagoras stated.
"Yeah. Maybe," Jason said, looking at the ground.
Pythagoras paused, trying to choose his next words carefully.
"Jason," he started, "is there anything you haven't told me?"
He nearly sighed as he felt his friend stiffen alongside him. He had been right then – there was definitely something that Jason was hiding.
"What do you mean?" Jason asked defensively. His mind was racing. There were so many things that he had kept from his two friends from the first moment he had arrived in Atlantis and he struggled to work out which one Pythagoras could possibly be talking about.
"Something happened to you the other night and I am concerned that it might have been more than you have told me," Pythagoras said sombrely.
Jason felt his breath quickening as the memories of the other night assaulted him again.
"I told you what happened," he snapped, irrationally angry at Pythagoras for bringing the subject up again when in his mind it was better left buried; better forgotten. "Why can't you just leave it alone?" As quickly as his anger had come it drained away, leaving him ashamed of having snapped at the gentle young man at his side. Pythagoras only wanted to help, he reminded himself.
Pythagoras was hurt by his friend's brief outburst although he did his best to hide it. Clearly Jason was not willing to talk about what had happened, although the mathematician couldn't help but feel it would be better for him if he could talk things out.
"Sorry," Jason muttered. "Nothing really happened the other night. He tried it on and I got away before he could do anything. I just really want to forget about it now alright?" He looked pleadingly at his friend.
Pythagoras was far from satisfied but decided to let the matter drop rather than cause an argument in the street.
"Did you want to know about the trial today?" he asked softly.
Jason sighed.
"I think I've heard about some of it," he admitted. "There were rumours flying around the docks. He's been sentenced to death hasn't he?"
"Yes," Pythagoras nodded. "Alektryon was found guilty of impiety and sacrilege. He will be executed in five days time."
"I wish..." Jason began, biting his lip. "I mean... I don't understand how you can all be so happy with the thought of someone being killed."
Pythagoras frowned deeply.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Execution is a good deterrent to stop others from committing crimes as well as punishing the guilty."
"Where I come from we got rid of capital punishment years ago," Jason admitted. "Long before I was growing up. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with the idea of someone being executed, no matter what they have done."
Pythagoras instantly decided not to tell Jason about the way in which Alektryon was due to be executed – his friend seemed to be having enough problems with accepting the concept of capital punishment and certainly did not need to know the gruesome details – it would only serve to upset him further.
"Well," he said forcing a smile, "if we are to obtain any food for your kitten we should probably return to the agora now... although perhaps not to the area nearest to the docks. I am afraid that you might have upset a few of the traders by knocking over their stalls on your way here."
Jason winced.
"Sorry," he apologised again.
Pythagoras grinned openly at his friend's discomfort.
"I am sure the fruit sellers will forgive you eventually," he assured the brunette lad.
Jason winced again – what was it about him and fruit stands? There were days when he actually thought he couldn't even look at one without something falling off! Standing up, he reached down and offered Pythagoras a hand, pulling the mathematician to his feet.
"Just so I know," he asked as they descended the steps, "is Isosceles going to be my kitten whenever she does something wrong or whenever we run out of food for her?"
Pythagoras considered it carefully.
"Probably," he said.
The early evening sun was still streaming in through the windows of the house as the two boys entered, chatting and joking lightly, Jason's earlier upset all but forgotten. The trip to the market had proved fruitful and alongside the meat and fish scraps for Isosceles they had brought home a flagon of reasonably good wine, a pheasant pie (Hercules' favourite) and some beans that Pythagoras planned to mash to accompany the pie – all courtesy of Jason's wages. The kitchen looked cosy and warm bathed in golden sunlight and Pythagoras felt the little glow in his heart that he always got on re-entering the house. He smiled widely at Jason as they put their purchases down on the table. A soft voice was coming from Hercules' room. As Pythagoras started to unpack the food, Jason quietly made his way to the doorway of Hercules' bedroom.
The big man was sitting on the edge of his bed with the kitten stretched out ecstatically on his lap as he stroked the soft fur of her belly. Jason smiled to himself at the sight, making no attempt to let Hercules know he was there yet.
"You're a sweet little thing really aren't you," Hercules said to Isosceles. "I didn't mean it when I said you were scrawny." He ran his fingers gently through the kitten's fur. "I'm not sure how we're going to feed you," he admitted, "but the boys want to keep you and I don't think I can begrudge them." He sighed. "Pythagoras has a habit for taking in waifs and strays. Although I have to say that you're a lot smaller than the last thing he brought home – you'll take a lot less feeding than Jason too. Not that he really eats enough – he certainly didn't last night anyway." Hercules chuckled to himself. "I have to say that Jason has been the most welcome stray that Pythagoras has ever adopted though. But you needn't tell him I said that, alright?" He paused in his stroking of the kitten. Isosceles gave a discontented mew and forced her head in under his hand until he restarted stroking her. "Do you think he's ever going to forgive me?" he asked with a sigh. "I didn't want him to get hurt. I would never want that. I've grown too fond of Jason to ever want to see anything happen to him. I just wish I knew that he was willing to forgive me."
Jason felt horrendously guilty. While part of him was still angry at Hercules – and would probably stay that way for some time – the more rational part recognised that what had happened was not really the burly man's fault – that Hercules had never intended any harm. It would be wrong of him to keep punishing his friend for a situation that had largely been beyond his control. He stepped purposefully into the room. Hercules looked up at the sound and jumped slightly. He had been completely unaware that the two boys had returned home because he had been so wrapped up in talking to the kitten.
"How much did you just hear?" he asked Jason suspiciously.
"Just the last sentence or so," Jason lied, not wanting to embarrass his friend by admitting he had overheard everything. "We've only just got home." He moved over to the bed and sat down alongside Hercules, stretching his hand out to tickle Isosceles under the chin.
"Jason," Hercules started.
"It's alright Hercules," Jason interrupted. "I know that it wasn't really your fault that Alektryon came after me." It was all he could do not to shudder when he said the man's name. "You were only ever trying to protect me."
Hercules nodded.
"I should have been paying more attention to what was going on around me anyway," the young man continued. "If I hadn't been wandering around with my head in the clouds he'd never have got the chance to get close to me. You'd think I'd know better by now."
His older companion looked at him with a growing frown.
"This wasn't your fault," he rumbled. "The only person to blame here is Alektryon. You do know that don't you?"
Jason shrugged, looking at his hands.
"Maybe," he allowed.
Hercules looked hard at the young man next to him. He slipped a friendly arm around the boy's shoulders, almost wincing as he felt Jason stiffen.
Jason forced himself to relax. It's just Hercules, he kept telling himself, there's nothing to worry about. He was more than a bit ashamed of his own automatic reaction. Seeing Hercules' eyes on him, he forced himself to fake a bright smile at the big man, feeling the skin across his cheeks tighten uncomfortably.
Hercules nodded.
"Are we alright now?" he asked.
"No," Jason answered honestly, "but I think we will be. I'm still a bit cross with you but I am trying."
Hercules sighed and gave a rueful smile. That was the best he could ask for at the moment he supposed. Lifting the kitten down onto the floor he stood up and stretched.
"I need food," he declared. "I'm hungry."
Jason grinned.
"You were born hungry," he said.
Supper was cheerful and the atmosphere, while still not quite normal, was much less tense than it had been over the last couple of days – much to Pythagoras' delight. The born peacemaker of the trio he hated to see his friends at odds with one another, and the hope that things might soon return to normal cheered him no end. Of course they were all studiously ignoring the subject of Alektryon and his trial. Pythagoras has pre-warned Hercules before supper that Jason had asked him not to talk about it earlier. The mathematician sat back comfortably, listening to the end of a story that Hercules was telling about one of their neighbours.
"It was never going to end well," the big man declared. "What with her being the daughter of a wealthy man like Oribasius and him cleaning the drains in the bath house. I tried to warn him that it was never going to happen but anything seems possible when you're in love."
"Hercules, you gossip more than an old woman," Pythagoras laughed.
"So what happened?" Jason asked, taking a drink of wine.
Pythagoras looked at his younger friend scandalised.
"Do not encourage him!" he said.
"What?" Jason said. "I want to know what happened."
The blonde mathematician rolled his eyes. He had noticed on previous occasions that Jason could easily become wrapped up in a story – even one of Hercules' tall tales – and listened with rapt attention.
"It's just like Echo," Hercules stated sagely.
"The nymph that pined away because she fell in love with someone who loved himself?" Jason asked in confusion.
Hercules frowned at him.
"No," he said patiently, "Echo the wine merchant's daughter. Fell in love with Stolos, the one-eyed son of the butcher. Let him into her father's wine store one night to try to win his heart. He was found the next morning drunk out of his mind and she ran off to join the Maenads... she always was a strange girl."
"How is that even remotely relevant to the story you were telling?" Pythagoras asked.
Hercules took a deep breath, preparing to explain, and then stopped – even he wasn't quite sure how relevant it was.
His two friends exchanged an amused look and started to laugh at the big man's expense. After a moment Hercules joined in.
"Tell me," he said looking directly at Jason. "Did I ever tell you about the time I hunted the hind of Ceryneia?"
Pythagoras smiled as he took a sip of his own cup of wine, relaxed and happy and fully prepared to indulge Hercules in an evening of storytelling.
Ariadne sneaked silently through the corridors of the Palace, the hood of a light cloak pulled up over her face. Her destination was the cells and she would far rather that no-one knew she was going there. If she was to have any chance at all of finding evidence to prove that Pasiphae had trumped up the charges against the merchant Alektryon to suit her own agenda then the utmost secrecy was needed. The Princess heard voices ahead of her and backed quickly into the darkness of an alcove. Ahead of her, at the brightly lit junction where the corridor she was in met another, two young female servants were walking, carrying bowls of fruit to replenish the supplies in the royal chambers, chatting animatedly to one another. As they passed out of view, Ariadne slipped forwards, and down the corridor in the direction the girls had come from. Time was of the essence. She did not want her chambers to be discovered empty at this time of night and for there to be any resultant hew and cry. Not that she was specifically barred from leaving her room at any time of the day or night, but her father had been extra vigilant in the wake of recent events – still afraid that someone would take his beloved daughter away from him – and there really was only so many times that she could use the "visiting the Temple to consult with the Oracle" excuse before it became too suspicious.
Having checked that the coast was clear, Ariadne started to descend the stairs to the cells. It was the time of night when the guards invariably disappeared for some supper and she could be fairly certain of having time alone with the prisoner. A flickering torch from somewhere ahead of her made Ariadne slow her pace. Someone else was visiting the prisoner tonight it seemed. Cautiously now she made her way forward, keeping to the shadows until she could hear what was going on.
"What do you want from me My Lady?" Alektryon's voice was agonised and desperate. "I have already confessed as you asked."
"I want nothing." Ariadne would swear that she could hear the smirk in Pasiphae's soft, cultured voice. "There is nothing you could possibly give me that would have any value whatsoever."
"Then why do you continue to torture me?" Desperation made Alektryon brave.
"You touched something that did not belong to you," the Queen hissed. "You played with fire and have been burned. If you had simply confessed to your crimes when I first asked I would not have been forced to hurt you... and I would not have to punish you now."
Ariadne was forever grateful that she could not see what was going on in the cell – the sounds were enough. Whatever Pasiphae was doing – whoever she had helping her – Alektryon began to scream. The screaming was horrendously loud and agonised and went on for a very long time. Finally the merchant went silent.
"I must leave you now," Pasiphae purred. "The King will expect me at his side. Rest assured I will return to resume our "discussion" tomorrow."
Ariadne stepped back out of sight just in time as Pasiphae swept past her, her own cloak billowing around her heels. Once she was sure that her step-mother had gone and she was alone, Ariadne stepped forward and made her way to Alektryon's cell.
Alektryon half lay in a huddled heap in the corner, shivering with pain. Ariadne moved up to the bars silently.
"Who's there?" Alektryon lisped.
Ariadne stepped into the light of a torch.
"My Lady," the man said in surprise. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I have been lead to believe that the Queen is responsible for your current predicament," Ariadne said.
"Indeed Your Highness," Alektryon responded. "I have caused offence to Her Majesty and am to be punished for it." His mind was working quickly. If rumour was to be believed then the Queen and Princess Ariadne hated one another. Perhaps that could be used to his advantage now. Every citizen of Atlantis knew that the King doted upon his daughter. Perhaps there was a way he could use the girl to persuade the King that his confession had been forced out of him and his sentence could be quashed.
"You confessed to a despicable crime in front of the King and the court," Ariadne stated. "Are you suggesting to me that your confession was less than truthful? Even under the threat of a death curse?"
"I was tortured until I agreed to confess My Lady," the man responded pitifully. "The Queen made sure that I understood that I would continue to be tortured most cruelly if I did not confess to the "crimes" she was accusing me of. I have done everything she demanded of me and still she continues to torture me..."
Ariadne felt a surge of pity for the man, feeling she had been right to be suspicious of Pasiphae's part in the trial. She reached through the bars and caught hold of Alektryon's hand.
"Do not worry," she said firmly. "I will make sure that you go free."
By the time work finished the next afternoon, Jason was tired but more relaxed than he had felt in days. He had not slept well again – a combination of insomnia and nightmares preventing sound sleep – but the more relaxed atmosphere at home had helped him to feel calmer. Work had been better too. For whatever reason Perdikkas had chosen to give Jason a succession of little boats to load and unload, all of them at the far end of the docks, well away from the general hustle and bustle of the harbour. It meant that there had been few opportunities for anyone to disturb him, allowing him to immerse himself fully in his work without having to deal with other people; without any of the incidental contact that had been upsetting him and fraying his nerves for the last couple of days.
Making his way back through the agora he wondered whether he should buy some mead or a flagon of wine. Perhaps it was time for things to start getting back to normal – well as normal as they ever got in the little house he shared with his friends. While he could never reconcile himself to the idea of Alektryon being executed for the things he had done, there seemed to be little he could do to prevent it at this present time, and as such there didn't seem to be much point in worrying about it right now. It had been different with Ariadne, he mused. For a start there had been people willing to help him rescue her. He had the feeling that in this case if he so much as suggested trying to stop the execution Hercules might actually burst a blood vessel trying to stop him. He frowned slightly, suddenly feeling a little out of place in a world where everyone except him had no problem with state sanctioned killing.
Walking briskly Jason rounded a corner into the main market square and stopped. Pythagoras was ahead of him apparently purchasing milk from their usual stall. Smiling Jason moved towards him, intending to join his friend.
"Fill it up?" Egina the milk vendor asked the young mathematician.
"Yes please," Pythagoras smiled.
"Is your brother not with you today?" the motherly woman asked as she started to fill the jug.
"My brother?" Pythagoras sounded genuinely confused. "Arcas has not visited Atlantis in many months. I did not know that you had met him on his last visit."
Egina frowned.
"I meant the dark haired lad you're normally with," she said. "I assumed you were brothers."
"Jason?" Pythagoras asked with an incredulous little laugh. "No we are most definitely not brothers. We are not actually related in any way."
Jason froze at his friend's words, the greeting that had been forming on his lips dying away. Although he knew that he and Pythagoras weren't brothers – knew that they weren't really related – he had somehow dared to hope that in the last few months they had become that close. He didn't really remember what it was like to have a real family but somehow Pythagoras had become the brother he had never had. Hearing Pythagoras deny that there was anything between them now hurt – hurt more than he would ever admit. Coming on top of all the bad dreams and bad memories that the situation with Alektryon had stirred up, it felt like the bottom was once again dropping out of his world. Stupid, he berated himself, so stupid. He knew better than to think anyone would ever actually want to stick around for any length of time; knew that he was just too difficult to get on with in the end; knew better than to let anyone get that close. Turning away, he silently made his way back through the market, looking for somewhere where he could be alone and could put the pieces of himself back together before he had to go home and face Pythagoras again.
"No, we are not brothers," Pythagoras continued, oblivious to the fact that his friend had heard the first part of what he had said and was now walking away hurt. "I am closer to Jason than I have ever been to my real brother." He smiled reflectively. "Jason is the brother of my heart not the brother of my blood." He took the jug back from the smiling Egina and started to make his way back home, his busy mind alternating between thinking about his two closest friends and his beloved triangles.