A/N Two chapters in two days again - I'm on a roll!
Thank you all for the lovely reviews - I'm going to be absolutely shameless now and beg for more ;-)
Please don't all hate me for this chapter - I promise it is necessary
The woods outside Atlantis were surprisingly peaceful. The autumn sun slipped brightly through the trees leaving dappled patches of light and shadow on the ground. Here and there the leaves were turning to shades of gold, flaming orange and chestnut brown – although as a rule the weather was still too warm for the trees to shed their leaves. Jason breathed deeply, shedding the worries, stresses, bad memories and tension of the last few days in the beautiful surroundings and still air. Alongside him Pythagoras wandered here and there, poking at the ground periodically with a stick or stooping occasionally to examine a plant. He had persuaded Jason to come here on the pretext of restocking his supply of medicinal herbs – something they seemed to get through at an alarming rate in their house. Now that they were outside the city the blonde found himself suddenly unsure how to proceed. Usually all he had to do to get Jason to open up was to get him somewhere quiet and start gently probing until he hit the right nerve. At the moment, however, Jason was resisting all attempts to draw him out – was thoroughly keeping himself to himself with that same distracted air he had had for the last couple of days. He seemed calmer here, more relaxed and at ease, but clearly had no inclination to talk to his friend, preferring to wander aimlessly, bow clasped loosely in hand, simply enjoying the wonders of nature. Pythagoras bit his lip as he bent to examine another plant.
"Is that one of the ones you're looking for?" Jason's voice came from right beside Pythagoras' ear and made the mathematician jump, turning suddenly to find that his friend had come up beside him on silent feet and was peering over his shoulder. He would never be able to work out how Jason could move so quietly when he wanted to.
"Sorry," the dark haired young man apologised, noticing how close he had come to giving Pythagoras a heart attack.
The blonde waved away the apology as unnecessary as he went back to examining the plant.
"It is rue," he said.
"For regret," Jason said softly, almost inaudibly – clearly talking to himself.
"What do you mean?" Pythagoras asked.
Jason looked a little embarrassed.
"It's from a play that I had to study in school," he explained. "There's this girl in it that hands out some herbs and flowers to some other people and she tells them what the flowers mean – what they're for. She says that rosemary is for remembrance and rue is for regret... there's others too but they're the only ones I can remember."
Pythagoras frowned in vague confusion.
"Rue is good for sprains and strained muscles," he said, "but I have never heard of it being associated with regret before." He removed a small knife from the satchel at his hip. "I should lay in a good store," he said to himself, reaching forward to harvest the herb.
Jason looked around himself. This trip was not as bad as he had feared. If he didn't think about it he could even pretend that things were back to the way they were before – that everything was as it had always been ever since he had landed on the balcony of Hercules' house. A movement in the bushes attracted his wandering eyes and he honed in on it, concentrating. After a few more minutes a hare broke from cover. Jason quickly nocked an arrow, drew the bow and fired in one smooth movement. The arrow flew true and the hare fell. The young man smiled as he wandered over to pick up the catch. He had never been hunting before coming to Atlantis and if someone had told him that he would one day be shooting at small defenceless creatures, he would have laughed. Now though it felt completely natural – had become a sensible and appropriate way of putting food on the table when money was short (as it often was). His current job meant that at present they didn't have to worry about where the next meal was coming from but he still wasn't going to turn down free meat when it was offered to him.
"You are becoming very accomplished with that bow," Pythagoras said as Jason wandered back over to him, hare in hand.
Jason shrugged and ducked his head almost shyly, faintly embarrassed by the compliment.
"Practice," he muttered.
Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.
"I do not think so," he argued. "I have seen men practice for years and not be as accurate as you have become in just a few months."
Jason bit his lip, more embarrassed than ever.
"Isn't that one of the plants you were looking for?" he asked.
Pythagoras looked where he was pointing.
"No," he laughed, "that is more likely to kill you than cure you. That is hemlock." He looked beyond it to another patch of greenery. "That, however, is fennel – good in cooking and useful for aiding the digestion and treating complaints of the chest." He smiled. "I will teach you herb lore yet."
Jason rolled his eyes at his friend's enthusiasm but obediently trotted after the mathematician as he ventured deeper into the woods in search of his herbs.
The Temple interior was decidedly cold and the fumes given off by burning herbs – offerings to Poseidon – hung heavily in the air. Jason paused next to a pillar near the door, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. He wasn't really sure why he had come here – didn't want to talk to the Oracle at the moment and have to listen to her increasingly vague pronouncements – but it had at least allowed him to finally give Pythagoras the slip. The mathematician had been obliging although obviously slightly disappointed and had trotted off home with the herbs he had collected and the hare Jason had caught promising to make something nice for supper. It had become increasingly clear as they had wandered through the woods that Pythagoras had wanted to talk – had wanted to discuss whatever was bothering Jason. Jason on the other hand was almost desperate not to have that particular conversation and had successfully managed to fend off his friend's queries without causing any offence.
"She has been waiting for you." Jason jumped as Melas' deep resonant voice came from out of the shadows. "You have questions," the priest added gently.
"Yes... no... I'm not sure really," Jason said, caught off guard.
Melas looked hard at the young man before him. The boy looked only marginally less tormented than he had the other night and the priest was saddened to see it. He wanted to help Jason in any way he could. He clearly needed to talk to someone. Perhaps the Oracle would be able to get to the heart of whatever was troubling the lad – they certainly seemed to have a closer relationship than Melas had seen the Oracle develop with someone outside the Temple complex before. Motioning Jason with one hand, he started to usher the young man down the steps into the Oracle's chamber in much the same way as he had done the first time he had met Jason.
The Oracle knelt, as she usually did, over the crack in the rock flooring which billowed forth the vapours that inspired her visions. Her hood was pulled up to conceal her face from view as she swirled her hands through the water of her scrying bowl, muttering ritual phrases to herself. As Jason stepped down off the bottom stair, she stopped and straightened, although her back was still to him. Standing, she pushed her hood back to form a cowl over the back of her shoulders, obscuring the tattoo between her shoulder blades from view, and turned, smiling, with her hands outstretched towards Jason.
"I did not know when I would see you again," she said softly, her voice warm and happy.
"Melas said you were expecting me," Jason answered in some confusion at the apparent contradiction.
"I knew you would come soon, but not precisely when. I only see what the gods permit me to see." She took Jason's hands and sat with him on the lowest step, looking into his face searchingly. "You are troubled," she said.
"Yes," Jason acknowledged. "I don't know what to do."
"I have been troubled by visions of late," the Oracle said, looking into the distance. "There is a man. He stands in the shadows, hiding his face from the light. He is not here – is not in Atlantis – but his presence troubles you. He lurks in the back of your mind. A dark memory that you wish to be rid of."
Jason closed his eyes briefly, his breath catching in the back of his throat. Unable to speak, he nodded.
"Jason you must be wary," the Oracle continued, her fingers tracing light patterns on the back of the boy's hands. "It is not for the sake of Atlantis that I speak now but for you. Two paths lie before you. One leads to destruction, the other to salvation. You will know in your heart which one you must follow. Trust yourself. Trust your judgement. And trust your friends. They will not see you come to harm."
"My friends won't care all that much," Jason said numbly.
"You are wrong," the Oracle answered, gently cupping his face. "You have embarked on a journey of the soul and I wish with all my heart that I could aid you more. I will do whatever I can to help you, but only your actions will determine the outcome of your journey. Your friends wish to help. Trust them."
Jason really wasn't looking where he was going as he left the Oracle's chamber. He stumbled back up the steps deep in thought and walked straight into the cloaked person who was about to descend. The figure fell backwards, knocked off balance by the young man. Jason reached out quickly to stop the person from falling, an apology already forming in his lips. All he seemed to do these days was apologise to people, he reflected with a frown. He just wished that for once in his life he could actually get everything right. As he caught the figure, the hood of her cloak fell back from her face to reveal the Princess Ariadne, looking every bit as startled as he felt.
"Jason," she said a little breathlessly. "I haven't seen you for a few weeks."
Setting the Princess back on her feet, Jason reluctantly let his arm drop from around her waist. Much as he wanted to hold her (and he really wanted to hold her) it would not be the most sensible course of action in a public place. Word would inevitably spread around Atlantis like wild-fire and harm would inevitably be done to Ariadne's reputation as a result. Jason was not willing to be the cause of any damage or discomfort being done to the girl.
"I looked for you at the trial the other day," Ariadne continued. "I saw your friends there but you were not with them." The was any undoubted question in her voice.
Jason tensed although Ariadne did not notice.
"No," he said. "I was working."
"Working?"
"Yes," Jason answered with a slight frown. Was it really so unbelievable that he might have a job? "I've been working down at the docks. It pays the bills, you know?"
Ariadne smiled, a little embarrassed that this was the one thing she had never actually considered when she had been thinking of reasons that Jason might not be with his friends. It made perfect sense of course, it was just that it had never really occurred to her to think that Jason and his friends would need to work to keep a roof over their heads. She knew her life was privileged; knew that there were many in the city much less fortunate than her; knew that most of the population of Atlantis had to work to put bread on the table. But she had never really thought to put Jason into that category.
"Of course," she said. "I have to admit that when I saw your friends I was a little worried that you were not with them."
Jason returned her smile, more relaxed and happy in her presence than he had been in days. At least with Ariadne he could forget about his problems for a little while.
"Yeah well, someone has to keep Hercules in wine," he said. He paused for a minute. "Your father spoke to me," he continued.
Ariadne grimaced, her beautiful face falling into a frown.
"I know," she admitted. "He has forbidden me to see you again."
Jason bit his lip.
"I should go then," he said, not wanting to in the slightest. "I don't want you to get into any trouble because of me."
Ariadne caught hold of his hand without thinking.
"No," she said. "I am more than willing to risk my father's displeasure. Besides I am here to consult the Oracle. I have managed to escape from the guards for a little while, so I think we are both safe." Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she led him behind a pillar and sat down on the floor, dragging him down with her.
"Still," Jason began, "you are a princess and I'm just me. If we were to be caught here together your reputation would be damaged. I don't think your father would be very happy."
"I do not care," responded Ariadne. "I have missed you. When we are together all seems right with the world."
Jason smiled softly, unable to deny the fact that he felt the same way.
"I am glad that I met you today," the girl continued. "There is something I need to talk to you about. I need your help." She paused.
"What is it that you need?" Jason asked earnestly.
Ariadne looked around her, checking that even the priests were at a safe distance before continuing.
"I came to visit the Oracle to ask a very specific question," she said somewhat obscurely.
Jason frowned lightly, unsure why Ariadne was telling him this.
"The man who was on trial the other day. The man who is currently awaiting execution in the cells beneath the Palace," Ariadne continued. "I believe he is innocent. I need your help to rescue him and help him to escape from the city."
Jason drew in a sharp breath, his face paling. Of all the things Ariadne could have asked of him this was one option he would never even have considered. His mind whirled. If even Ariadne believed Alektryon to be innocent then what must the rest of Atlantis be thinking? Suddenly Uskelegon's words came back to him with sickening clarity. Perhaps the whole of Atlantis believed he had deliberately led Alektryon on, had caused the whole situation and deserved to be punished instead of the merchant. His stomach clenched painfully and he struggled to breathe and to concentrate on what Ariadne was still saying.
Ariadne was so wrapped up in her own righteous indignation at Alektryon's plight that she completely failed to notice her companion's distress. If she had known the turmoil she was putting Jason through she would have been horrified.
"Pasiphae was responsible for Alektryon's arrest," Ariadne went on, "and I believe she convinced my father of his guilt. I heard her torturing the poor man with my own ears. Taking pleasure in hurting him. His so-called "confession" was a result of her torture. I have reason to believe that she has trumped up the charges against Alektryon for her own ends and I have given the poor man my word that I will help him to go free."
Jason's mind raced. He couldn't tell Ariadne of his own part in Alektryon's arrest – couldn't admit to that shame. And yet there didn't seem to be any other way to avoid helping the Princess in her scheme. He swallowed hard and tried to buy himself some time.
"What is it that you want me to do?" he asked in a strangled voice.
Ariadne frowned.
"I need you to help me to free him," she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
The young man closed his eyes and swallowed the sickness that was souring his stomach, his heart pounding erratically in his chest as he continued to silently panic.
"I'm not sure I can help you," he admitted. "The man confessed under the threat of a death curse. I think that probably means he's guilty."
Ariadne yanked her hand away from Jason's as if she had been burned. Of all the possible outcomes she had envisaged of asking Jason for help, the one she had never even considered was that he might say no.
"You said I could trust you," she said, voice throbbing with emotion. "You said I could always come to you for help."
"You can trust me Ariadne," Jason responded.
"Then why won't you help me?" Ariadne asked sharply. "Why won't you believe me when I say this man is innocent? He was tortured, Jason. He confessed to stop any more torture, and yet Pasiphae still carries on torturing him. She is evil. We both know that. So why can you not see that this is just some plot of hers?"
Jason did not – could not – answer.
"Do you know what they will do to Alektryon?" Ariadne continued. "Do you know how they will kill him?"
The young man at her side shook his head mutely.
"They are going to take him to the Sawing Tree," the Princess stated. "When the moon is at its highest point tomorrow he will be taken there and executed."
"The Sawing Tree?" Jason asked.
"It is not really a tree," Ariadne said. "It is a wooden frame. Alektryon will be strapped to it upside down – hanging by his ankles. They will then start to saw him in half from the groin. Men have been known to stay conscious until the blade has reached their stomach. Aside from the Brazen Bull it is our most hideous method of execution and is only ever reserved for the worst prisoners."
She fell silent, staring at her hands with her lip trembling. The method of death she had just described so graphically had always disturbed her.
Jason was shaken to the core. No matter what Alektryon had done, the young man could not believe that he deserved such a gruesome fate. Capital punishment sat badly with him anyway but to hear that Atlantis engaged in such horrific methods sickened him. He really should have expected it, he thought grimly – after all the bull court was no walk in the park and the Brazen Bull was one of the most ghastly methods of death ever invented. He could not stand by and let this happen. Especially not when it was clearly upsetting Ariadne so much. Regardless of Alektryon's guilt, Jason knew that he had to try to help the man escape no matter what his own personal feelings towards the merchant might be – and to be honest he really didn't want to think about that. He sighed and caught up Ariadne's hand again.
"Alright," he said, "I'm not really sure how you think I can help but I'll meet you here tonight and we'll try and work something out."
Ariadne smiled.
"Thank you," she said simply. She looked around herself. "I must get back to the Palace before I am missed. I will meet you here three hours after sundown."
With one last smile and squeeze of Jason's hand she stood and walked away in the direction of the secret passageway between the Palace and the Temple. Jason watched her go, his thoughts still in turmoil, suddenly unsure how he would explain what he was going to do to his friends.
Pythagoras let himself back into the house quietly and put down the bounty of his trip to the woods with a soft sigh. The hare would need skinning, gutting and preparing if it was to make them a meal tonight, and the herbs needed sorting and drying before they were put away ready for the next medical emergency to befall a member of the household. Right now though Pythagoras found he just didn't care. His heart was heavy and weary, and so he sat down at the table and let his head drop into one hand.
"Well?" Hercules' booming question came from behind him.
"I managed to collect plenty of herbs and Jason caught a hare for dinner," Pythagoras answered pensively, without raising his head, knowing that this was not the answer his old friend was looking for.
Hercules sat down at the table opposite him and looked seriously at the young genius, taking in the weary, defeated slump of the lad's shoulders. He frowned. The atmosphere in the house seemed to be growing more tense each day and was clearly affecting Pythagoras badly. Something would need to be done soon – someone would need to shake some sense into Jason – and the burly wrestler had the horrible sinking feeling that it was going to have to be him.
"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said gently to the young man on the other side of the table.
"I know," Pythagoras responded. He looked up at Hercules, his blue eyes sad. "I tried," he admitted, "but I just don't know what to do. Jason will not really talk to me. He was polite but evaded all my attempts to persuade him to tell me what is wrong. I cannot shake the feeling that he is upset about something I have done, but I do not have the faintest idea what that could be and he will not tell me," he paused. "He is isolating himself. Much as I hate to think it, it feels as though we are drifting apart – as though he is drifting away from us piece by piece."
"I know," Hercules sighed. "Although I do wonder if this is just what he does." He looked uncomfortable at the thought of what he was about to say. "I mean he turned up here all those months ago, and he never really talks about where he came from, or about the people he left behind – maybe Jason just drifts away and then leaves and never looks back."
Pythagoras pushed himself up from the table, his eyes flashing sudden fire.
"You cannot mean that, Hercules," he said hotly. "Jason is not like that. You know he is not. You know him." He turned his back on the big man, shoulders rigid.
"But do we really know him?" Hercules argued. "What do we actually know? Jason is so secretive that we really don't know all that much about him at all."
"No," Pythagoras answered sadly. "We know very little of his past." He turned and looked firmly at his bulky friend. "But I do not believe that Jason would treat us in the way you are describing. He is noble and kind and has a good heart. I may not know where he comes from, or about his upbringing and family, but I do know Jason and I do know that we are his friends and that he cares for us."
Hercules sighed.
"You're right," he said softly. "Jason wouldn't deliberately hurt us like that. But we are losing him – he's slipping away bit by bit. He's disappearing inside himself – self-destructing."
Hercules closed his eyes against the downhearted feeling that coursed through him. Pythagoras' gentle, compassionate hand on his arm renewed his vigour and sense of purpose and he opened his eyes to look into the sad and worried face of the mathematician. Pythagoras looked almost on the verge of tears.
"Don't worry," the big man tried to reassure the mathematician. "We'll find a way to bring him back to us. Even if we have to knock the sense back into him." He frowned. "Jason needs shaking out of this mood that he's in before he does any more damage – to himself or to anyone else," he added with a significant look at Pythagoras.
Pythagoras frowned, still feeling the need to try to defend his friend in spite of his recent behaviour and the distance he seemed to be putting between them.
"I'm not sure that it is as simple as knocking sense into Jason," he said firmly. "We need to find out what it is that is troubling him. He needs to feel he can talk to us – can tell us anything."
"He needs a clip round the ear," Hercules growled, his patience waning. "I won't stand for seeing him upset you just because he's got problems that he doesn't want to talk about."
"To be fair I'm not sure he means to upset me," Pythagoras started.
"Then he needs to get his head back from wherever it's gone and start seeing what's around him," Hercules interrupted.
"I do not think that getting cross is actually going to help," argued Pythagoras.
His large companion grunted. He did not want to argue with Pythagoras – the lad was blameless. Breathing deeply, Hercules visibly forced himself to calm down.
"What's for supper?" he asked.
Pythagoras smiled weakly.
"Hare," he answered.
Hercules frowned.
"Hare is always better if it's marinaded overnight," he said with the knowledge of one who spends much of his life eating. "Leave it in a mixture of wine, herbs and spices, with maybe just a touch of garlic, and slow roast it over the fire tomorrow. Serve it with maza, onions and mashed beans. Ooh it is lovely," he smiled to himself at the thought.
"That does not help with supper tonight," Pythagoras answered primly.
Hercules smiled.
"Tell you what," he said. "Let me take care of cleaning the hare and preparing it for tomorrow and you can get dinner for tonight. There are lentils in the cupboard to make a decent soup."
Pythagoras rolled his eyes but acquiesced. Where food was concerned it was often easier to just give in to Hercules. The man was a force of nature where his stomach was concerned. As the big man took the hare, a sharp knife and a couple of bowls out onto the balcony to work, the mathematician started to prepare the lentil soup, humming softly to himself as the familiar routines relaxed him.
Letting himself back into the house quietly, Jason stopped to watch Pythagoras trotting around the kitchen, preparing the evening meal with apparent pleasure. He smiled unconsciously to himself. Pythagoras would never openly admit it for fear of being ridiculed but it was obvious that he very much enjoyed the task of cooking. A tickling around his ankles made Jason look down. Isosceles was rubbing herself up against him, weaving in and out between his legs. The dark haired young man bent to pick her up, feeling the tremors that ran through her small body with her purring. The kitten mewed insistently at him.
Pythagoras looked up from what he was doing to see his younger friend standing in the doorway, Isosceles in his arms. Although Jason was smiling he still somehow looked curiously uncertain – more unsure of himself than Pythagoras had ever seen him look – as though he doubted his welcome somehow. The mathematician's heart clenched. He had thought that Jason would know that this was his home – that he would never hover in the doorway as though he thought he would not be allowed in. Forcing his tone to be bright, he greeted his brunette friend.
"Jason. How was the Oracle?"
Jason smiled wryly.
"About as vague as ever," he responded. He looked down at the wriggling, mewling bundle in his arms. "I think she's hungry," he added with a nod towards the kitten.
Pythagoras nodded, still forcing a smile. It was ridiculous how uncomfortable and forced this conversation felt given how close he had always believed he and Jason were.
"You will find a pot of fish scraps from the market on the shelves," he said. "I covered it with a lid because I did not think we would want the smell stinking out the rest of the house." He turned back to the soup.
Supper was strained. Jason seemed more distracted and distant than ever, Hercules glowered at him, his patience obviously nearly gone, and Pythagoras tried to keep up the conversation for all three of them – desperately trying to maintain some semblance of normality and keep the peace between his friends.
After the remains of the meal had been cleared away, Jason retreated to his bedroom, biting his lip as he felt about under his bed for his breastplate. It was nearly time for him to go and meet Ariadne and he still hadn't worked out how he could tell his friends that he was going to help the girl in trying to arrange Alektryon's escape from gaol. Slowly he laced the straps at the sides that held held the armour securely in place. He'd worn it so often now that it felt natural – as though he'd worn armour all his life – although that too was something he would never have believed in his former life. Sighing under his breath he reached under the bed again and grabbed his sword, sliding into the strap until it ran diagonally across his chest, the sword itself resting comfortably on his hip. With one last check to make sure that the sword was loose enough in the scabbard to be drawn quickly, Jason turned and walked purposefully back into the kitchen.
Pythagoras frowned as he saw the way his friend was dressed. While it was normal for Jason to be armed if they were going outside Atlantis, it was rare for his to wear his sword within the city walls unless something very specific was going on. The mathematician was immediately worried.
"Why have you got that on?" he asked suspiciously
The tone of his voice caused Hercules to come back out of his own room in a hurry. He also frowned deeply when he saw Jason, eyes narrowing.
"I saw Ariadne today," Jason responded, trying to be as casual as possible.
"That's nice," Hercules grunted. "She's a pretty girl and all that. But why are you wearing armour and carrying your sword?"
"She asked me to help her with something tonight," Jason answered evasively.
"What?" Pythagoras asked, his suspicions and worries growing. He resisted the urge to scream in frustration at his friend's reticence. Sometimes getting an answer out of Jason was like pulling teeth. It appeared that tonight was one of those times.
Jason flushed slightly.
"There's a prisoner in the cells that she wants me to help her get free," he said.
"And you agreed?" Hercules growled, his voice growing louder. "Are you completely insane?"
"No," Jason answered. "Ariadne asked for my help and I'm going to help her. She hadn't got anyone else that she could turn to."
"Don't you think there might be a reason for that?" Hercules snapped. "You know how hard it was to break into the Palace before. It's likely to be a lot harder than that now. Besides which the cells are the most secure part of the Palace. How, exactly, did you plan on rescuing this person?"
Jason frowned.
"I haven't worked out the details," he admitted, "but I promised Ariadne that I would meet her at the Temple tonight."
"And have you forgotten that the King has told you in no uncertain terms to keep away from his daughter?" Hercules asked acidly, no longer even able to maintain the pretence of keeping a grip on his temper. "Are you that naïve that you think she won't be followed by guards? And what do you think will happen if you get caught? Minos will not hesitate to condemn you for treason." He pointed a meaty finger, trembling with anger, at the young man. "I will not see you throw your life away like that."
Jason's frown deepened.
"I'm not going to let Ariadne even think I would let her down," he snapped hotly.
"You've done plenty of stupid things since you arrived on our doorstep, Jason – have caused plenty of trouble – but even you must see that this is madness," Hercules shouted.
Jason cringed. The thought that he had been a burden to his friends – had caused trouble for them however unwittingly – was one of his worst fears, and to hear Hercules vocalise it, even in a fit of anger, cut him to the core. He stepped back slightly, towards the outer door.
"Hercules," Pythagoras firmly admonished, trying to diffuse a situation that was already out of his control. He turned towards Jason placatingly. "Who is it that the Princess wants you to help to escape?" he asked.
Jason raised his chin defiantly.
"Alektryon," he answered calmly.
For a moment you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Then Hercules exploded.
"What?" he roared. "After all he has done you would try to free that monster?"
"If it means that he will not be killed then yes," Jason answered.
"Jason I know that you do not believe in capital punishment," Pythagoras said, "but it has proved to be a good way of deterring people from breaking the laws."
"Particularly those that have already been executed," Jason responded sarcastically.
"Don't you dare get funny with him," Hercules growled gesturing towards the wide-eyed Pythagoras. "You've done quite enough to upset him with your moods in the last few days as it is."
Jason very nearly flinched. The last thing he would ever have wanted to do was hurt Pythagoras. His friend was kind and generous and the most unselfish person Jason had ever met – it was not his fault that the brunette lad had apparently misread the relationship he thought they had and had fooled himself into believing that they were close enough to be brothers.
"I'm sorry," he started to say to Pythagoras, genuinely remorseful for any upset he had caused the young genius.
"And another thing," Hercules continued, on a roll now, "why in the name of the gods would you even care what happened to Alektryon after what he did to you?"
"He didn't do anything," Jason insisted angrily. "I told you the other night that he tried but I got away... and I don't see how sawing him in half is going to make it any better!"
Pythagoras winced openly. He had hoped that he would be able to keep that little bit of information from Jason. He knew his friend would have enough problems with Alektryon being executed without knowing the gruesome details of what was to happen. Jason saw the wince and froze, knowing immediately what it meant.
"You knew," he said incredulously. "You knew what they were going to do to him."
"Jason," Pythagoras began.
"Of course we knew," Hercules cut in angrily. "The King announced it when he condemned Alektryon."
"What kind of place is this?" Jason asked. "You all happily accept a man being cut in two as punishment. It's barbaric! What kind of monsters come up with this kind of stuff?"
The resounding slap made Pythagoras jump. Jason reared back, hand clapped to his stinging and reddening cheek, face pale and eyes shocked. Hercules let his hand fall back to his side, shoulders heaving. Part of him couldn't believe he had raised a hand to one of his boys – had smacked one of them across the face no matter how well deserved – but the largest part of him was still too angry to care.
"So we're all monster's are we?" he roared.
"I didn't mean you two were monsters," Jason answered defensively, still with some anger in his own tone, "but where I come from we got rid of capital punishment years ago – long before I was around. You'll never be able to persuade me that it's right."
"If where you come from was so perfect," Hercules hissed deceptively quietly, too angry to really know what he was saying, "why don't you just go back there? If Atlantis is so awful why don't you just leave?"
Pythagoras was looking right at both of them as Hercules spoke. There was no way he could miss the look of utter devastation that flashed across Jason's face. Before he could jump in – could try to assuage some of the pain caused by Hercules' angry words – before he could try to make the big man see what he was unwittingly doing in his rage – Jason turned, yanked the door open and raced out into the night.