A/N Thank you all once again for the lovely reviews and kind messages of support. I thought I'd get this chapter out extremely early this week to be in time for Christmas and as an early Christmas present for one of my friends - you know who you are :-)
Anyway please enjoy this offering and don't forget to leave me a review...
Oh and Merry Christmas!
Hercules wanted to growl in frustration. Luck it seemed was really not on his side tonight. All he really wanted to do was to get the three of them home and make sure that both his young friends had a good night's rest and yet he was being hampered at every turn. First Dion had insisted that they were going to have to stay in the dratted Temple overnight and had indicated that he would arrest them if they tried to leave; then that seedy doctor had dragged Pythagoras off to help the wounded and goodness knows where they had got to (and persuading Pythagoras to leave the wounded and come and get some rest himself was going to be a challenge in itself); and now the King had arrived and was demanding a full explanation – and what the King wanted he always got; one did not deny him if one valued one's life. Hercules had felt Jason's discomfort growing as the crowd of grateful parents had crushed around them and much as it had amused him it also worried him; the lad was beyond tired, overwrought and clearly in pain and under those circumstances could be all too easily overwhelmed. While the burly wrestler knew that his friend had largely got back to normal over the last two months he still couldn't help but worry that Jason was more fragile than he sometimes seemed. Those memories that had resurfaced and all the associated trauma that had gone with them were still very raw and inflamed and tonight's escapade was only likely to exacerbate that – touching as it did on the potential abuse of children. Plus Jason had been having what Pythagoras termed as a "dark" day even before Talos had burst in with the news of Cassie's kidnap. What he probably needed most right now was to find somewhere quiet where he could relax and calm down and be persuaded with careful prompting (not nagging – Hercules did not nag) to open up. Both Hercules and Pythagoras' had realised over the last couple of months that allowing Jason to bottle his feelings up was potentially very destructive.
As the King reiterated his demand for an explanation, Hercules felt Jason shift his weight onto his good leg to take some of the pressure off his bad. He frowned. The sooner they could get this over and done with and he could get Jason to sit down and let himself be checked over the better for all of them. Barely perceptibly the dark haired lad swayed slightly. Shifting his weight onto his left leg might have helped with the pain in his knee but it took him off balance. Hercules moved in next to Jason's left side, close enough that he could slide his arm into place behind the lad, palm resting warmly in the small of Jason's back, providing a solid support that the young man could lean into without appearing too; helping Jason to keep his balance while allowing him to take a little more weight off his knee by leaning against his burly friend.
From her position at Minos' elbow Pasiphae's sharp eyes picked up this careful manoeuvring and frowned. Without appearing to take any particular interest in any of the people in front of her the Queen scrutinised her son. It was the closest she had been to him while they were both conscious since he was a tiny child and her heart leapt a little at the thought that he was almost within touching distance. Jason looked tired, she decided – very tired. Although she could see no obvious injuries he was clearly favouring one leg (though she doubted that many of those present would realise that) and the way his friend was hovering spoke of a deep rooted concern. This was a dangerous situation and was most definitely not the way in which she would wish her husband to meet his stepson. Events had moved outside her control, however, and with Minos determined to discover the identity of her son the best she could hope for was to make this as easy as possible. Her conversation with the Oracle had confirmed what she already knew – that her husband was going to learn who Jason was soon – but even the Seer had been unable to tell her how Minos would react.
"General Dion," Minos commanded, "perhaps you would care to tell me why you are not inspecting the troops on the eastern wall as you were ordered."
Hercules and Jason exchanged a startled look and turned to stare at Dion in surprise. While they had both realised that he was some kind of officer neither one of them had expected him to hold such an exalted rank – although Hercules had had the suspicion that he was perhaps something more than a simple captain from the way in which he had effectively ordered his men to disregard their prior orders and take part in the mission to rescue the girls and the guards had simply followed him without question.
"Your Majesty," Dion began. "Over the last few days there have been incidents throughout the city where little girls have been going missing. They have been the daughters of some of the unfortunate people who have taken refuge in our great city in the face of the Amphigeneian army. I had received several reports which indicated that a band of slavers were operating within the city and were targeting the children of the refugee families in the belief that they would not be able to obtain official help to recover their lost offspring."
Minos scowled deeply.
"Slavers? In my city?" he growled. "Why is this the first I have heard of the matter?"
"My Lord, I spoke to your chief advisor, Lord Kephalon, yesterday. He informed me that you were not to be disturbed with this matter; that with the Amphigeneian siege there were far more important considerations than a few lost little girls. He suggested that I should forget the matter and return to the duties he had assigned for me."
Pasiphae carefully schooled her expression into one of indifference but inside she was crowing. Kephalon had made many fundamental errors of judgement over the last few days (challenging her in front of the War Council had not been his finest hour) yet this was undoubtedly the worst and the one that might potentially lead to his downfall. One did not keep news from the King – especially news that impacted on the wellbeing of the people; Minos cared too much for his city and his people to ignore a matter like this. Beside her she felt her husband bristle, his eyes flashing fire. For all she would not mourn the loss of his chief advisor it was important that Minos' temper be diverted before the full impact of it could potentially fall on her son. Now was not the time for misunderstandings – not when she had so much at stake. She reached out one slim hand and placed it comfortingly on Minos' arm, smiling reassuringly as he turned to glance at her. The King's eyes softened as he looked at her and he patted her hand gently before turning back to the rapidly dwindling group in front of him. Many of the refugees who had been crowding around the men had taken the opportunity to grab their children and melt away while Minos had been looking at Pasiphae, none of them wanting to risk the wrath of the King falling on them even by mistake.
"I will speak with Lord Kephalon in the morning," the King promised, his tone frosty. "I am grateful to you for bringing this matter to my attention General Dion. It does not, however, explain to me what is going on now." He looked back at Dion with an eyebrow raised.
"I was leading a patrol to the Eastern Wall as instructed to inspect the troops and the defences there when the latest attack was sounded. Shortly afterwards we ran into these men here," Dion gestured towards Talos and Hercules. "It was long past curfew and I asked for an explanation of their presence on the street before I arrested them. They informed me that this man's daughter had been kidnapped by the slavers. They had attacked him in the street and taken his daughter from him. Apparently they had mistaken her for the child of a refugee although her father is in fact a citizen of Atlantis. I felt that they could be of some assistance in the recovery of the children and decided to return to the Palace to request an audience with Your Majesty to obtain permission to search for the kidnapped girls. As we passing along the Sacred Way we were stopped by a young man – a friend of these men… I believe he is currently assisting one of the doctor's with a wounded soldier. He informed me that he and this young man," he dropped a heavy hand onto Jason's shoulder, "had run across the slavers. This young man had given chase in spite of already being injured. I took the decision at that point to follow. I am aware that I was not strictly speaking following the orders I had been given but I felt that if Your Majesty had known the situation you would have approved of my actions and I did not feel that there was time to wait. We encountered the slavers in a warehouse in the industrial district. After a short fight those that survived were killed or apprehended. I have taken the liberty of sending a man for reinforcements to bring the survivors to the cells to await your judgement. This young man," he gestured to Jason again, "and his friends rescued the children and led them to safety. We brought them to the Temple as I believed that was the best place to find their parents and then I had planned to return to the Palace and make a full report."
Minos nodded thoughtfully.
"You have done well," he said firmly. He stepped forwards towards the group and stopped in front of Jason, looking hard at the young man.
"It would seem that our paths are perennially destined to cross," he stated. "You have made quite a mark on my city since you arrived here. I owe you my thanks once again."
"You owe me nothing, My Lord," Jason answered softly, ducking his head slightly.
Minos half smiled. A glint of gold caught his eye and he found himself staring at the necklace the young man before him wore. It bore the symbol of the Oracle. Perhaps the lad wore it in honour of the Seeress or perhaps he served Poseidon in some way. Yet somewhere within the King a memory stirred; a half forgotten image came to mind of a similar necklace being played with by a small child in the long distant past. He strove to remember where and when he had seen that necklace before and jerked his eyes up to the young man's face, wondering for the first time where the boy had appeared from.
"It is ironic perhaps that I know so little about you given how often you have stood before me," he murmured. "You arrive in my city, kill the Minotaur, leap the bulls, compete in the Pankration and save my daughter's life in just a few short months. You were at the centre of other… events… just two months ago…" Minos did not fail to notice the way Jason paled at the reference or the way the lad bit his lip unconsciously, and winced at his own lack of tact. "I am sorry," he apologised softly. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable or stir up painful memories."
Pasiphae started. It was a rare thing for Minos to apologise to anyone much less a young man who to his eyes was nothing more than a peasant. It gave her hope that perhaps he had some level of respect for her son already.
"And now here you are again at the heart of this situation," the King went on. "Yet I do not even know your name."
"It's Jason, Your Majesty."
"Jason!" Minos made a sound that was half gasp and half bitter laugh. He flashed a look at his wife, taking in her rigid posture with a single glance before turning back to search the young face in front of him. His eyes narrowed before flickering with a light that could almost have been recognition. "Who are your parents, boy? Where do they come from?"
"My Father was from Atlantis," Jason answered softly. "I came here in search of him."
"And did you find him?"
"He's dead," Jason said shortly. "The Oracle confirmed it."
"What of your mother?" the King asked.
"She died shortly after I was born," Jason answered. "I know nothing of her beyond that."
"An orphaned young man named Jason, whose path keeps crossing my own… It appears that the Gods have a sense of humour after all," Minos murmured ironically, turning away.
Jason flicked a quick confused look at Hercules. The burly wrestler had gone pale although he clearly tried to rally at his younger friend's questioning glance.
"I must consult the Oracle," the King stated, half to himself. "There are aspects of this situation that must be explored carefully."
"We'll be on our way then, My Lord," Hercules interjected almost desperately. "You're busy and we've got a home to go to."
Minos turned back looking almost amused.
"You will not be returning to your home tonight," he said. "The curfew is still in force and I may have further… questions for you. No doubt a place can be found for you to sleep in the Temple tonight and in the morning I may require your services again."
Hercules gulped and nodded. It seemed that there was no way he could get his friends home tonight – he might have been able to get around Dion's restrictions (even if the man was a general) but a direct instruction from the King could not be disobeyed.
As Minos began to stalk away, Pasiphae looked at her son for one last time, her eyes flickering briefly over him. As her gaze reached the floor at Jason's feet she stopped and looked again. There on the flagstones by his left foot was a small puddle of blood, not large enough to have issued from a serious wound but still there nevertheless. In spite of her determination to stay calm and aloof the Queen was across the floor in a few short steps, frowning darkly – her fear for her son's wellbeing overriding all else.
"You are bleeding," she pointed out sharply.
Jason looked down blankly at the floor for a moment before glancing at his own hands. He peered at the left one and then shrugged.
"I must have caught it on something," he muttered to himself.
"Let me see it," Pasiphae demanded, her tone imperious.
"It's just a scratch, My Lady" Jason protested.
"Show me the wound. I will not ask again," the Queen insisted.
Warily Jason turned his hand over to show the Queen his palm. There was a long cut running straight across the centre from one side to the other. Pasiphae inspected it carefully.
"You are right that it is not serious," she said. "However even the merest scratch can become infected if it is not cleaned and dressed properly."
"My friend Pythagoras will look at it later," Jason said quietly.
"Your friend appears to be far too busy with the wounded from the battle," Pasiphae answered sharply. "I have some knowledge of the healing arts. I will see to this myself."
Before Jason could protest any further she called for a passing servant.
"I require warm water and a cloth, some comfrey and a strip of clean linen for a bandage," Pasiphae instructed. She turned back to Jason. "Come, we may sit over there." She gestured towards the wide square base of a pillar set at a reasonable height for sitting on from the floor.
Jason watched her calmly but warily, his suspicion at her motives evident in his eyes; his gaze direct and challenging. Pasiphae suppressed the urge to sigh. He has no reason to trust me, she reminded herself firmly, but that will change. She tapped her foot briskly on the floor and stared at the young man until his eyes dropped and he flushed.
"I will not be kept waiting," she snapped.
Jason scowled and followed her to the pillar, perching on the very edge of the stonework and looking anywhere but at her. Pasiphae could not help but notice the limp he was clearly trying to hide and frowned again. Before she could comment the servant was back with the items she had requested. Seating herself alongside her son, she carefully placed the bowl of water on the floor by her feet and the comfrey and linen bandage alongside it. Stooping she wet and partially wrung out the cloth and then turned towards Jason, catching his hand in her own and beginning the process of gently cleansing the wound. With some dismay she realised that her hands were trembling slightly. Somehow, despite the machinations she had gone through to try to reclaim her son as her own, she had never truly expected to be here and suddenly found herself hideously unprepared for the reality of being face to face with the boy. Trying to complete her task as gently as possible she continued to mop the blood away from Jason's hand. He didn't so much as murmur she noted with some pride, even though she knew from experience that the act of cleaning the wound would be causing him some pain.
Finally, her task completed, she reached down and picked up the comfrey, crushing it between her fingers and laying the leaves over the cut, before binding it carefully with the strip of linen.
"A poultice would have been better," she said softly, "but I do not have the other ingredients I require and I cannot ask any of the doctors to spare supplies at the moment. The leaves should suffice however, and the wound should heal well."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Jason answered equally softly.
Pasiphae looked at him and allowed herself a brief smile, noticing the questions and uncertainty in his eyes.
"Perhaps I am not who you believe me to be," she murmured. "I believe you and I have more in common than you think."
Jason frowned. He had come to believe that the Queen was an evil witch with megalomaniac tendencies over the last few months, but he could hardly voice that here and now. He had not missed the way her hands shook as she held his, holding on for a little longer than was strictly speaking necessary once the bandage was tied, nor missed the apparently genuine concern in her eyes as she looked at him. By rights he should expect some sort of trick and yet he found himself more at ease in her company than he would have thought was possible. What exactly was going on here? His mind was screaming at him that he should in no way trust the woman alongside him but something in him seemed to react to her at a much more basic level and he found himself unwilling to pull away.
For a long moment they sat in a silence that, bizarrely, was almost comfortable. Then Pasiphae seemed to rouse herself and the mask of the Queen fell back into place.
"If you have any other injuries it would be in your best interests to inform me now," she said briskly.
"I do not," Jason answered.
"And yet you were limping as we came over here."
"That is not new," Jason said. "I twisted my knee several days ago. It is healing and I am fine."
He pushed himself up to stand, trying hard to hide how much his leg was hurting right now. His knee was definitely swollen and had seized up as he sat. The kick from the slaver hadn't helped matters either but until he had a chance to rest there was no good in making a fuss. Besides which he really didn't think it would be a good idea to show weakness in front of the Queen – she was after all Ariadne's greatest enemy and by extension his. As he went to take a step, however, his right knee betrayed him, giving way beneath himself. He would have fallen but for a pair of surprisingly strong slender arms that caught him around the shoulders and held him in place. He looked up, more startled than ever, into Pasiphae's dark eyes.
"Perhaps not quite so fine after all, silly boy," she chided sharply as she eased him back down to sit against the pillar.
For her part the Queen was thoroughly rattled. She had not expected that being so close to Jason would affect her so much – and they had been close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. Her son was no longer a distant memory or a longed for dream; she was not watching him at a distance now. He was a living, breathing reality in front of her and she was struggling to keep control of her emotions under the circumstances. Something nagged at her however, in spite of her inner turmoil; something she had noticed as she had stopped his fall. With a frown she reached out one slender hand and touched the young man's face and brow. His skin was like ice.
"You," she snapped to the servant who had brought her the medical supplies, hovering near to where they sat in case the Queen had any further requirements, "bring me a blanket."
She turned back to Jason, noting that his older friend was marching purposefully towards them, clearly having seen the lad lose his balance, his expression resolute. At the last moment he was side-tracked by the arrival of the third member of the trio – the skinny, clever one – and she watched with some amusement as they began a spirited conversation, the bulkier man gesticulating wildly towards Jason while the other one answered with clearly placating comments. Then the hurrying servant reappeared with a soft blanket that the Queen took wordlessly and wrapped around the young man's shoulders.
"You are frozen through," she admonished. "Do you not have a cloak?"
"Of course I do," Jason retorted sharply. "I just forgot it."
"On a cold night like tonight? I am truly astounded that you have survived as long as you have since you do not seem to have the brains you were born with."
She realised her mistake immediately as Jason bristled. This was not the time to antagonise the boy. The next few days could prove difficult enough with the siege and her campaign to make Jason fully acceptable to Minos without the young man digging his heels in stubbornly and refusing to accept anything that she had to offer. And what if he did not accept? What if he refused to believe that he truly was her son? She shuddered at the thought. No matter how much she planned, Jason was the one variable that she simply could not fully predict. Surely her son would be able to see the benefits of the situation? Whatever happened she would find a way to ensure his compliance, she decided.
Still it would be preferable to make the transition as painless as possible for Jason. She had no time to prepare him – no time to gently ease him into the truth – and deep down she had a horrible feeling that Jason was far from ready to hear what she needed to tell him. The feeling of uncertainty was the worst. For years now she had striven for control – for power – and had achieved full mastery over herself and her surroundings. Jason's presence was an anomaly that she had never allowed for – he was the weakness that she had not even known she had. She needed to draw away now; to calm herself in preparation for what was to come.
"I must return to my duties," Pasiphae said stiffly. "No doubt your friends will be here in a few moments to ensure that I have not harmed you." She paused and looked at Jason. "As the King said you cannot return to your home tonight but no doubt a bed will be found for you here." Her tone became gentler. "You should try to get some rest. The days to come may be hard upon us all."
With that final suggestion she stood and glided away, willing herself not to look back.
Jason watched Atlantis' fearsome Queen sashaying away from him with some confusion. Far from being the cold, evil, power-hungry monster he had thought her to be she had seemed almost… human; caring even. There must be something for her to gain by being nice to him but what it was he couldn't yet imagine. Still he would be on his guard and on the lookout for any nasty surprises. Mentally he shook himself. It had been an odd day all things considered – from the weird dreams of last night to those strange flashes he kept getting at the warehouse that seemed to tell him where he should be going, and now this odd almost friendly exchange with a woman who he believed to be his enemy… just what the hell was going on? He couldn't quite put it all together somehow; was too tired to even try. He felt drained and detached – and he knew from bitter experience that that was not a good thing.
"Are you alright?" Pythagoras sounded worried.
Jason smiled, trying to pull his head back together, and looked at his friends.
"Yeah," he answered. "Tired and achy but I'll be fine."
With a weary sigh Pythagoras sat down next to him.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Because it looked suspiciously as though you had caused more damage to your knee. You practically fell on top of the Queen."
"It just gave way," Jason admitted. "It's a bit swollen and stiff this evening. I don't think I've actually hurt it again… it's more that I've probably been doing a bit too much."
"You're still going to get it checked to make sure," Hercules growled coming around to sit on Jason's other side and giving the young man a hard stare.
Jason nodded absently, his mind still caught up on his encounter with the Queen.
"What did Pasiphae want with you anyway?" Hercules continued suspiciously.
"Nothing really," Jason murmured distantly.
Hercules scowled.
"She must have wanted something," he insisted. "What did she say to you?"
"Nothing much," Jason said softly. "She bandaged up my hand and told me off for going out tonight without a cloak and suggested I should try and get some rest. It was weird… it was almost like she was worried; like she…" He trailed off thoughtfully.
"Like she what?" prompted Pythagoras.
"Like she… cared." Jason visibly shook himself, completely missing the worried glance that passed between his companions. "Stupid of me… sorry… my imagination's gone into overdrive this evening. I'm just tired."
"Both of you are tired," Hercules grumbled looking between the two younger men. "We'd better be looking for somewhere to bed down for the night and I don't think it's going to be all that comfortable."
"Come on Hercules, we've all slept in worse places," Jason answered.
"Maybe we have but the two of you didn't need to tonight. All you had to do was do as you were told and you could be nice and comfortable at home right now."
Jason rolled his eyes.
"And Cassie and the other girls would still have been in the hands of the slavers," he pointed out.
"I would have managed," Hercules protested. "You don't know that we wouldn't have found them even without you."
"And you don't know that you would," Jason argued. "What's done is done. Let's just make the best of things now. I'm sure there's somewhere we can camp in here that won't be too bad."
"We don't even have any blankets," Hercules grumbled.
"I do," Jason said with an impudent little grin pulling the blanket Pasiphae had given him a little tighter around his shoulders.
Pythagoras winced. Hercules was getting more and more irritated with every passing moment and Jason's casual disregard for his own wellbeing was only contributing to that. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened since he had gone with Cinyras to assist in the treatment of a badly wounded soldier although Hercules had briefly mentioned that the King had spoken to both him and Jason and had instructed them not to leave the Temple tonight. The big man had been more concerned, however, with the fact that the Queen had swept in and demanded that Jason go off on his own with her. He was quite naturally suspicious of her motives – worried that she meant to harm Jason or even worse tell him the truth. When Hercules had seen Jason half fall only to be caught by Pasiphae he had been almost beside himself with worry and it had been all that Pythagoras – arriving at precisely the right moment – could do to prevent him from marching over and dragging Jason away, which could have proved seriously detrimental to the burly wrestler's health given the Queen's fearsome reputation and legendary ruthlessness.
"Speaking of finding somewhere to settle down for the night I was speaking to Cinyras and he has saved a place for the three of us," Pythagoras interjected. "It is simply some thickly laid straw covered with spare sheets and blankets but it should be comfortable enough I would think – certainly more comfortable than sleeping straight on the stone floor would be."
"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Hercules demanded crossly.
Pythagoras looked embarrassed.
"I forgot," he confessed. "Cinyras did mention that he wanted to check us both over before we retire for the night though," he added looking at Jason apologetically.
Hercules gave an exasperated huff and rolled his eyes melodramatically.
"And where is this place that's been saved for us?" he asked sharply.
"Over there behind that pillar." Pythagoras gestured to the far side of the Temple.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Hercules asked standing up and gesticulating impatiently.
Pythagoras sighed and pushed himself wearily to his feet. He was exhausted and the muscles in his chest felt tight and sore, and he had a sinking suspicion that Hercules might be intending to launch into a lecture just as soon as they were all settled when all Pythagoras really wanted to do was to collapse onto a bed and sleep.
Jason on the other hand didn't immediately get up to join his friends. He wasn't at all sure that his knee would hold his weight the way it was currently feeling, especially after it had given way the last time he had attempted to move just a few minutes ago. He didn't want to put his friends to any worry or trouble but at the moment he couldn't see any way he could get himself across to the other side of the Temple without their help. He would have to ask for help and accept whatever scolding he got for putting his body through the pounding he had given it this evening. He looked up ready to ask for assistance to find Hercules looking back at him knowingly, his arm already outstretched. Jason blinked in surprise.
"Don't just sit there with an idiotic look on your face," Hercules said.
"Thank you," Jason answered gratefully as he pushed himself up, gasping slightly as he put weight on his injured leg.
Hercules frowned deeply and caught his friend around the waist, pulling Jason in to his side and dragging his arm across his own shoulders so that he could support a fair amount of the young man's weight. With Pythagoras trotting ahead to lead the way they set off slowly across the floor. Hercules would really have liked to be moving a bit quicker than they were – reasoning that the quicker they got to their allotted sleeping area the quicker he could make sure that both boys were resting and comfortable – but it rapidly became apparent that Jason was moving as fast as he could right now. Hercules sighed. The dark haired lad was clearly just about at the end of his endurance and the burly wrestler had a feeling that Pythagoras was not far behind. Jason was trembling slightly with the effort it was taking him just to walk across the great chamber and Hercules tightened his grip on his young friend unconsciously.
The place that Pythagoras led them to was about as comfortable as was possible the big man was pleased to see. Three beds had been carefully laid out on the floor near a glowing brazier – thick piles of straw forming makeshift mattresses, covered with thick sheets and blankets both to prevent any of the spiky straw sticking through and for warmth, with pillows at one end. Hercules was more than a little touched at the thought the seedy looking doctor had put in to their comfort.
"Talos helped to set it up," Pythagoras murmured, "and I think he might have had help from some of the other parents. Everyone was very kind." He sank onto one of the mattresses with an audible sigh of contentment, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
Letting go of Hercules, Jason carefully lowered himself onto another of the beds and let his head drop back onto the pillow with his eyes closed. A sharp tap on his good leg startled him and he opened his eyes wide to see Hercules glowering at him grumpily.
"No going to sleep yet," the big man rumbled. "Not until the doctor has checked your knee."
Jason sighed but pushed himself back up into a sitting position. It seemed that sleep would have to wait a little longer. He slowly loosened and removed his breastplate and began to undo the lacings on his wrist cuffs, raising his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned.
"I'm glad to see you're actually sitting down," a raspy voice said.
Jason blinked tiredly at Cinyras. The seedy looking doctor regarded him coolly before going on.
"Now let's see what damage you've managed to do to yourself this time," he said.
As the doctor began to examine Jason, Hercules gestured to Pythagoras to follow him. The young genius forced himself to follow his friend, knowing that Hercules was worried about something, but he couldn't help cursing under his breath at the fact that he was not being allowed to rest. Once they were far enough away, out of earshot but still within sight of their friend, Hercules stopped and turned to Pythagoras, his concern written on his face.
"Minos knows," he said without preamble.
"Minos knows what?" Pythagoras asked frowning in confusion.
"Who Jason is," Hercules answered. "He started asking about what happened this evening and then commented on how often he'd seen Jason and yet knew nothing about him and all of a sudden he got this strange look on his face. He looked really hard at Jason and it was like he suddenly recognised him, and then he asked his name and all about his parents."
"Maybe he was just interested," Pythagoras pointed out.
"No it was more than that. I was there and I'm telling you he knows. He said that he needed to confirm some things with the Oracle and he might have more questions for us in the morning… I'm certain that he's worked it out… Then there was all that with Pasiphae… I'm telling you that they're going to come for Jason… and soon."
"How did Minos react?"
"I don't know," Hercules snapped. "He wasn't angry as such but he didn't exactly seem overjoyed either. If he does decide that Jason's a threat we need to be ready to grab him and run."
"Straight through a besieging army?" Pythagoras said incredulously. "Hercules be serious."
"I am," the burly wrestler retorted. "I'm being deadly serious. If the worst comes to the worst we have to be ready to go. I don't know about you but I'm not about to let anything happen to him," he nodded towards Jason, "just because the King is scared that someone wants his throne."
"We need to warn Jason," Pythagoras murmured.
"And say what exactly? Sorry no-one's told you before but actually your father was the former King, your mother is an evil murderous witch and your stepfather wants to kill you just because you're alive? How can we tell him that?"
"We do not know that Minos will want him dead," Pythagoras objected.
"No," Hercules agreed, "but we need to be ready in case he does."
"I still believe that Jason deserves to know the truth," Pythagoras said firmly. "I did not tell him when I first stumbled on the theory because he was not in any fit state to be told at the time. Now, however, he has a right to know and if you will not tell him then I will."
"Alright," Hercules growled, "we'll tell him… but let him get a good night's sleep first. There's no point doing it now… he'd only spend all night stewing on it when he should be sleeping. You both look about ready to drop right now… It'll be better coming at this when we're all fresh."
"Very well," Pythagoras said. "I will not say anything tonight but first thing in the morning we will talk to Jason."
They returned to the area that their beds were in just as Cinyras was finishing checking over their housemate.
"Well you haven't done any major damage," the seedy doctor said, "but you have put unnecessary additional strain on that knee and set yourself back by a few days, and the kick you told me you had received has caused some rather nasty additional bruising. It's very swollen again and I'm guessing very tender as well – it is likely to be very stiff and sore for a few more days. You're going to need to use cold compresses to bring the swelling down and I have a tonic to ease the discomfort. Keep your leg elevated with rolled blankets or pillows overnight and the swelling should be a lot better by morning." He levelled a stern gaze at Jason. "But," he added, "once you're home tomorrow I want you completely off your feet for a full day and then back onto crutches for a couple of days after that… You're very lucky that you didn't do serious damage running around the way you did tonight."
Jason sighed and nodded.
"I know," he said, "and I promise I'll do what I'm told… I just didn't think I had a lot of choice."
"Just try not to undo my good work this time," Cinyras sighed. He turned to Pythagoras with his eyebrows raised. "Your turn," he said firmly. "Sit yourself down right now… I want to make sure you have not made yourself ill again running around in this cold weather."
As the doctor began to examine the blonde mathematician, Jason relaxed back on the pillows as Hercules once again positioned rolled blankets under his knee and fetched a cold cloth to use as a compress. For all the dark haired lad was exhausted he also had a lot to think about and he wasn't sure how easily sleep would find him. Gradually though his eyes drifted closed as his burly friend pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. As the warning bell tolled to mark the end of the latest attack on the city, Jason let all thought drift away as he slipped into a peaceful sleep.
Pasiphae stood in a window overlooking the city, staring down into the moon-washed square below and trying to pull her jangled thoughts back together. It was late – late enough that even without the curfew there would have been few people left on the street – but the Queen of Atlantis felt no urge to retire to her chambers for the night. It would do no good at all to lie in bed fruitlessly churning over her first proper encounter with her son. Far better to find something to occupy her mind until she was ready to sleep. She sighed. Sleep would not come easily this night, she admitted to herself. Her mind was too full of Jason. Even her plans for the future – always at least two moves ahead of everybody else – had been displaced as she mentally relived each second of their conversation.
There had been something wondrous, she decided, about sitting there and simply drinking in the presence of her son. Did that make her weak? Pasiphae had never had any time for weak willed women who gave in to their children's every whim; who cossetted and spoiled them; wrapped them up in swaddling clothes and tried to protect them from the world. Although she could envisage Jason's independent and forthright nature causing some problems later she still rejoiced in the fact that her son clearly knew how to stand on his own two feet and neither expected nor demanded protection from anyone. She would not coddle him; would not make excuses for any deficiencies in his behaviour; would expect him to learn how to act properly and behave with the decorum demanded of a member of the royal household. No she was not and would not be weak – it was simply that having been separated from the boy for so long she wished to enjoy the simple pleasure of being near him; wished to rediscover what it felt like to be a mother – to be his mother.
"How long have you known?" Minos' cool voice startled her from her thoughts.
Pasiphae did not insult either his intelligence or her own by pretending not to know what he was talking about; by making out that she did not know the identity of her son.
"Not all that long," she murmured softly. "I visited the Oracle this evening." The two statements were not really connected but Pasiphae intended that Minos would assume that they were.
"As did I." The King came to stand behind his wife. "She confirmed the boy's identity although it was not really necessary… I had already realised who he must be from my conversation with him… he has no idea who he really is does he?"
"No," Pasiphae answered. "He believes what he told you – that his mother died shortly after his birth... How did you discover his identity?"
"His name simply confirmed things really. The boy's path has crossed our own one too many times for it to be a coincidence. It is as though the Gods have been pushing him into our paths; as though they were laughing at us… and when I looked at him – really looked at him – it was clear who he must be." He paused. "He has your eyes. I have seen that necklace that he wears before as well – in the hands of a child who was barely more than a baby. It took me a little while to place the memory but when I did I realised that the child I was remembering was your son."
"The necklace was a gift," Pasiphae said, her voice soft and reflective – remembering. "The Oracle presented it to Aeson when the boy was born. It hung above Jason's crib when he was a baby. It was supposed to give him Poseidon's blessing; to protect him. As he grew it would have been packed away to be presented to him when he was presented to the phratria for the first time at sixteen. It would have shown his status as Poseidon's servant. Aeson must have taken it with him when he stole Jason from me." She looked up sharply at her husband, her face hardening once more. "What are you planning to do to the boy?"
"Nothing," Minos answered. "I promised you that I would not hold him responsible for his father's failings and that as long as he did nothing to challenge me I would not harm him. I do not forget that there is as much of you in him as there is Aeson. To that promise I will hold true – my word is my bond in this matter." He sighed. "With the Amphigeneian siege and the demands made of us, Jason's re-emergence could be a blessing," he admitted. "Anaxandros will not be expecting us to be able to produce Aeson's heir and although he is unlikely to believe the truth it might just buy us the time we need."
"And afterwards?"
Minos sighed.
"I am not the Oracle," he said firmly. "I do not know what the future will hold. The boy is clearly uncultured… unversed in our ways and customs… and possibly even uneducated, although we will have to ascertain that of course. He clearly does not have the first idea of etiquette… of how one behaves in proper society… is little more than a peasant."
Pasiphae bristled, immediately feeling the need to come to her son's defence.
"He has been raised far from Atlantis," she snapped sharply. "I believe that he may even have been raised beyond the borders of Greece. It is unreasonable to expect him to know everything that he ought under those circumstances. He was always an intelligent and inquisitive child, however, and I am certain that with the proper instruction he will learn all that he needs to know."
"Of that I have no doubt, my love," Minos answered placatingly. "At present though his knowledge and behaviour leave something to be desired. I will grant you that the boy is brave, spirited and virtuous… his behaviour towards my daughter during my illness proved that… but he also speaks out of turn and does not seem to have the faintest grasp of proper behaviour in the presence of royalty. For your sake I am pleased that Jason is alive and that we have located him and I will try to be fair and just towards him – but my love you must see the size of the task before us. It will take a great deal of work on all our parts – Jason's most of all – for him to take his place as a member of the court and of our family… and he must be willing. There is the possibility that he will not want to acknowledge his heritage and in that case we will need to take hard decisions. Do we allow him to continue living in obscurity in the city knowing that there is the chance that one day his identity will be discovered by others? Do we risk him being used as a figurehead for a rebellion? Or do we remove the boy from the city – send him into exile far away from our borders?"
Pasiphae went cold.
"You said you would not harm him," she stated coldly.
"And I will not," her husband sought to reassure her. "But you must accept that if Jason refuses to accept who he is you may have no choice but to harden your heart and learn to live with the knowledge that he will not be part of your life. I hope for all our sakes that this does not come to pass but you must be ready for that eventuality."
"And if he should prove willing to accept his place and his heritage?"
"Then we will see how quickly he can learn and how adaptable he can be. I will not make unreasonable demands on the boy – will not expect him to learn everything overnight – but I will expect that he learns to moderate his speech and learns proper manners in short order." Minos paused and sighed. "If the boy should prove to adapt himself well to his new role then it may be another blessing. I am aware of my daughter's… feelings for him and would wish to see her happy. I wish to leave Atlantis in a strong position for the future. Ariadne will be a good Queen… I am sure of it. But a Queen must have a King by her side to govern and rule. It would be better for Atlantis if Ariadne's choice of suitor were not from another state. She must marry for the benefit of the city but any outsider would naturally put the needs of their own state first. If Jason should prove to be acceptable it would solve a great many problems." He smiled and placed a warm hand on his wife's shoulder. "That is for the future, however. Now we must look to the present. The boy must be told of his heritage and encouraged to accept it."
"I believe that his sense of duty will help," Pasiphae admitted. "I will return to the Oracle in the morning and ask for her guidance," she could not help the bitterness that crept into her tone. "It appears that Jason has consulted her on several occasions in the past and that they have formed a… bond."
Minos raised an eyebrow.
"That may be the wisest course," he murmured. "The guidance of the Oracle is never something to be ignored." He squeezed Pasiphae's shoulder lightly. "Do not worry though, my love. Your own bond with your son will grow in time. It can only have been the hand of Fate that brought him back to Atlantis at this time… If you believe nothing else believe that I am truly happy for you Pasiphae. It is rare indeed that the Gods grant such a miracle… and I hope that it is the start of a brighter future for all of us. For now though my love you should try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."
It was hideously late when the sound of soft feet approaching woke Pythagoras from his well-earned sleep. A quick glance about him in the fading light of the guttering brazier revealed that Hercules was still snoring away in his bed, making a sound more usually associated with some sort of wild pig than a man, and Jason was a sprawled tangle half hidden beneath the pile of blankets their burly friend had deemed necessary to warm him up. He was muttering slightly and wriggling in his sleep, a sure sign that he was worried about something, although he did not appear to be having a nightmare. So the approaching feet did not belong to either of Pythagoras' friends. That raised a whole new set of questions in the blonde's mind. Perhaps he should wake Hercules, but what would he tell him? That he had heard a noise in the dark and had got scared? He could just imagine the ridicule that he would be subjected to, especially as he had no reason to believe that the owner of the footsteps had any nefarious intentions towards them; no reason to believe that whoever it was wanted anything from them at all. It was quite possible that it was simply someone who had needed the latrine and was now returning to their own sleeping place.
The footsteps drew ever closer until suddenly they stopped before hurrying forwards until they were right by Pythagoras and his friends. The mathematician lay silently in the dark, scarcely daring to breathe, with his eyes tightly closed. After a few moments he realised that the person (whoever it was) was not passing on and he cracked open his eyes to see what was going on. If there was any danger to his friends he was sure that a quick shout would bring them to consciousness fairly quickly – well Jason at least. Hercules could sleep through pretty much anything and often needed a physical slap to wake him. There was a figure in the darkness near the bottom of Pythagoras' bed; a figure swathed in a heavy cloak. It crept forwards until in the faint light of the glowing embers provided by the brazier the Queen's face was revealed. Pythagoras resisted the urge to gasp in shock and alert the fearsome woman to his presence. He forced his breathing to remain calm and lay still in the darkness, watching to see what the witch intended to do.
Pasiphae did not really know what had brought her here. She had tried to sleep and yet had been plagued by the nagging feeling that she needed to check on her son; needed to see for herself that Jason was sleeping peacefully. I am growing weak, she admonished herself. But was it weakness to wish to make sure that her son was well? Was it weakness to desire to know that someone had seen to his comfort? It was not she decided. It was her right as his mother to know that he was well. Decision made she had wrapped herself in a cloak and slipped through the secret passageway that linked the Palace to the Temple.
Now here she was, standing over her slumbering son and watching him as he slept. He looked so very young to her eyes, so desperately innocent somehow, and her heart clenched at the sight of him; a sight she had never allowed herself to believe that she would see. His face was unguarded as he slept, his hair a tangled mass of curls that fell on the pillow. Pasiphae frowned. That was something that needed attending to sooner rather than later. Jason's hair was far too long for a respectable young man; was the sort of length that only a ruffian or a bandit would wear. Her first acts once he knew the truth would be to ensure that his hair was cut and he was found some clothes more suited to his station than those he currently wore.
She watched Jason for a little longer, noting with a growing frown that he moved uneasily in his sleep and muttered under his breath. Tentatively she stretched out her hand and gently carded it through his dark hair, marvelling at the softness of the curls entwined in her fingers. Jason let out a contented sigh and turned his face towards her. Pasiphae froze but her son did not wake; did not stir. He simply relaxed beneath her hand. The Queen allowed herself a slight smile and resumed her gentle petting until she could see that Jason was deeply asleep once more. In spite of her determination to remain aloof, to not give in to the urge to become the sort of weak mother she most despised, her heart sang a little. He had responded to her touch unconsciously. On some level he was already hers whether he knew it or not.
With some reluctance Pasiphae drew away. It would not do to be caught here now by anyone who might happen to be awake… and it certainly would not be helpful for Jason himself to wake up and find her hovering over him – no matter how unlikely that seemed to be given how deeply he appeared to be sleeping. She sighed inaudibly. Soon she would claim Jason properly; tomorrow the plans to bring him to her side would come into action. Then the long task of training him would begin; of shaping him into the Prince he was born to be. Jason would see that it was for the best in the end wouldn't he? Actually it did not matter if he did not. She was Queen of Atlantis and his mother. She would not be defied or denied. Jason would require teaching and discipline – especially the latter given what she knew of his antics since arriving in Atlantis. She would not grow soft or weak… she would not! With one final longing glance over her shoulder she moved silently back across the floor towards the hidden door and the passageway, her mind already busily making plans for the morning.
In the darkness Pythagoras let out a long breath. That had been… interesting to say the least. If he had not seen it for himself he would never have believed that Pasiphae could look so human. In all conscience he could not keep this from his friend any longer. Tomorrow, he promised himself, tomorrow he would tell Jason the truth.
