A/N Thank you all once again for the lovely reviews. It means a lot that you have taken the time and trouble to leave me a few words, especially since I was so worried about the last chapter. To my guest reviewer I'm sorry that I can't respond to you more personally but I would like to extend special thanks for taking the trouble to leave such a full review. I actually agree with you on several of the points you have raised (they were things I was already unhappy with in the previous chapter) and I have thought a lot about what you said. I won't say I agree with you on everything but thank you for the constructive criticism - it's a rare thing to receive (especially when it's kindly meant as yours clearly was). I'm glad that in general you're enjoying this story (and the previous ones) and I really hope you carry on enjoying them :-)
Anyway, on with this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know if you do.
Pythagoras looked out of the window at the bright early morning sunshine with a faint smile. Looking out at the clearing in front of the hunting lodge, bathed as it was in a bright glow as the sun streamed down between the trees, it was hard to believe how unpleasant the weather had been just yesterday. As always the start of a new day lifted his spirits and the sunshine seemed to bring with it the promise that better days were coming soon, lightening his heart and making his burdens easier to bear.
Nisos had left them in the hour before the dawn, determined to get to Colia as quickly as possible. The journey would take him three days on foot. If all went well and his brother was able to help by providing horses Nisos hoped to be back within five days.
Five days. In a way Pythagoras was grateful for the postponement of their journey, although he knew that the more impatient members of the party would chafe at the delay. But with various members of the group needing time to heal – to recuperate from injury or illness – the rest could only be beneficial. Actually Pythagoras couldn't help but feel the rest would be good for all of them. He himself was more than a little tired and beginning to feel stretched too thinly. Ever since Jason had been poisoned by Anaxandros it had felt as though they had lurched from one disaster to another without having the time to draw breath in between. From the moment the Amphigeneians had broken through the Telapius Gate he had barely stopped; had been called upon to fight and then to exercise his medical skills in increasingly fraught circumstances.
Even last night he had felt unable to relax in case he was needed. Pasiphae seemed much better for the move from the cave to more comfortable surroundings it was true, but Pythagoras couldn't help but grow increasingly worried for Jason. His friend was ill, there was no way around it. Jason might have wanted to try to be strong and stoic but in the present circumstances even that had eluded him. It always worried Pythagoras when Jason simply gave in to his ministrations, knowing that his dark haired friend had to be feeling truly terrible for that to happen. It was only when Jason was at his weakest, when illness or injury had sapped him of his strength, that he gave in without a fight, simply not being able to muster up the energy to be stubborn or argue. The truth was that much as Jason's obstinate nature frustrated his friends, Pythagoras would far rather see it as it meant that he was not that ill.
Last night though Jason had plainly been exhausted. Shortly after supper he had been easily persuaded to settle down for the night and had slept through without waking, aided by a very mild sedative concoction that Pythagoras had pressed upon him. It was so mild that under normal circumstances it would barely have touched Jason (perhaps making him a little sleepy but that would be all) but given his state of exhaustion it had worked in conjunction with his body's demands for rest and had allowed him the peaceful sleep that seemed to have eluded him for the last few days.
Pythagoras had been unable to prevent himself from waking and going to check on both his patients several times in the night, however. Every time he had gone to check on Jason he had found his friend fast asleep, sleeping heavily and snoring lightly as the congestion in his chest made itself known. Pythagoras frowned at the thought as he glanced across at his friend once more. That wet, chesty cough worried him, evidence (if evidence were needed) of something potentially nasty setting in. The last thing they needed right now was for Jason to develop peripneumonia, or indeed any sort of lung fever, but it was clear that he already had excess phlegm in his lungs and Pythagoras could only hope that getting plenty of rest in a warm and draught free room would help to ward off anything more serious.
Jason was going to get plenty of rest too. Pythagoras was determined about that. Even if he had to enlist every other member of their party he was going to make sure of it. Pasiphae might be weakened at the moment but the young mathematician was in no doubt that she would take a very dim view of her son risking his health in any way and would act accordingly. Looking at Jason now it was plain that he was unwell, his skin paler than normal as he rested against the pillows and a worrisome wheeze in his breathing.
As Pythagoras watched, still frowning with concern, Jason turned his head and opened his eyes, smiling sleepily across at his friend. Pythagoras couldn't help but return the smile with one of his own and moved purposefully across the room to crouch down beside the makeshift bed.
"Morning," he greeted softly. "How are you feeling?"
Jason appeared to consider it seriously.
"Better than yesterday," he answered truthfully.
"Yesterday you were hindered by exhaustion," Pythagoras answered primly. "I have told you before that it is not good to allow yourself to become so tired."
"I know," Jason responded. "I haven't been sleeping well for a while," he admitted.
"If the pain from your ribs was not allowing you to sleep you should have told me," Pythagoras said with an annoyed frown.
"It wasn't that," Jason answered, "and before you ask it wasn't insomnia either, it was… you know what… never mind."
He pushed himself painfully to his feet and shuffled over to the window, pulling a blanket around his shoulders as he went. There was a long low cupboard under the window and Jason pulled himself up to sit on it, bare feet resting on the top, legs bent at the knees. He looked moodily out of the window at the bright day. Pythagoras was struck by a strong feeling of deja-vu. For a moment the image flashed into his mind of Jason sitting in the exact same position with the same sort of look on his face in the window seat of Meriones' home. Pythagoras had come so close to losing his friend to the demons inside his head back then and he'd be damned before he let that happen again.
With short strides the young genius crossed the room and pulled himself up to join Jason in the window, sitting facing his friend, so close that their feet were almost touching.
"What is wrong my friend?" he asked. "You have not been yourself for some time."
Jason sighed and looked around the room, noting that his mother was asleep on the bed but that no-one else seemed to be present.
"Where is everyone?" he enquired.
"I do not know," Pythagoras answered. "They have all found tasks that have taken them outside… and you are evading my question."
"I don't know how to answer it without you thinking that I'm mad… maybe I am going mad," Jason answered.
"I have always known that you are quite mad," Pythagoras answered with an amused smile, the humour in his voice taking the sting out of his words and letting Jason know that he was joking. "But then so am I. None of us are completely normal. I spend my days dreaming about triangles, Hercules spends his drinking, gambling and telling tall tales…"
"Don't forget eating pies," Jason interjected with a small grin.
"Indeed," Pythagoras agreed, "and you run off on ridiculous quests for the first person that comes your way with a pathetic story… I do not believe that any of us qualify as completely sane."
"Maybe not," Jason answered with another small grin. He rested his head against the window frame and looked out thoughtfully. "Do you ever have dreams that seem to come true?" he asked suddenly.
Pythagoras frowned.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Do you ever go to sleep and have a dream and then find it comes true?" Jason responded. "Do you ever dream something and then something happens when you're awake and it's exactly the same?"
"I once dreamed that Hercules went for a whole day without wine or pies," Pythagoras remarked.
"And did it come true?" Jason asked.
"No," Pythagoras answered with a laugh. Then he looked at Jason more seriously. "You are asking me whether I believe in prophetic dreams," he said. "I do. The Gods work in mysterious ways. I have witnessed too much of their powers to doubt them." He reached out and grasped his friend's hand. "You can tell me anything," he stated earnestly, "and I will not judge."
"Not long after we got to the Palace I had an odd dream one night," Jason admitted. "I dreamt of the night the Amphigeneians got into the city… and I swear it happened just as I dreamt it." He swallowed hard. "I also dreamt of the attack on the Temple. I saw Anaxandros kill the Oracle on the altar."
"But it didn't happen that way," Pythagoras said. "Because you stopped him." He gripped Jason's hand a little more tightly. "The Gods gave you a gift… gave you a warning that allowed you to save Poseidon's Priestess. Do not doubt it. This was a blessing that we should all be grateful for."
"Maybe," Jason answered. He lapsed into silence again and peered out of the window.
"What else is troubling you?" Pythagoras asked.
"Everything's happened so quickly," Jason said softly. "Less than a month ago I knew who I was and where I belonged, but now… I don't know what's going to happen when this is all over. A big part of me just wants to come home but I don't think that's going to be possible… I'm not sure Minos will allow it… and I don't know if I can quite say goodbye to them either." He glanced across at the sleeping Pasiphae. "She's nothing like I imagined her to be… and she's nothing like I imagined a mother should be… but then I'm probably nothing like the son she dreamed I'd be either… and we seem to fit with one another, you know?" He sighed. "Then there's my father… Aeson… I don't know what I'm supposed to do about him. I've still got so many questions but I'm not sure I'm going to like or want the answers… I'm not sure I want to see him right now but if I want to understand I've got to."
"He hurt you," Pythagoras murmured.
Jason inclined his head in agreement.
"I've always known deep down that I was angry at him," he acknowledged, "but I always sort of idolised him too… I always dreamed that one day he'd come back for me. Now I know he was never going to and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that. I don't know if I'll be able to see him without losing it completely."
Pythagoras hesitated for a minute.
"Maybe there was a reason why he could not come back," he said softly. "I do not know precisely where it is that you come from but I believe it to be some distance away."
Jason snorted.
"You have no idea," he said.
"No," Pythagoras murmured a little sadly. "I know."
Jason flicked a sharp glance at him.
"You've always been a good friend," he muttered. "You've never pushed or asked me too much… even though you must have wondered."
"I have always believed that you would tell me in your own time," Pythagoras responded. "That one day you would trust me enough."
"I do trust you," Jason answered hoarsely. "I trust you more than anyone… and you have no idea how much I've wanted to tell you… how many times I've come close." He looked down at his hands. "When I first came here the Oracle told me not to tell anyone where I came from," he admitted.
Pythagoras sucked in a sharp breath.
"Then you should not," he said. "An edict from the Gods must not be taken lightly and must not be challenged."
Jason grimaced.
"I'm not entirely sure it was an edict from the Gods," he said. "The Oracle said that I had many enemies in Atlantis and that I must tell no-one where I came from… where I'd journeyed from to get here. She made it sound like it was for my own protection. Then the man who'd been the Minotaur said that Minos must never learn who I really was… only he has so I don't know if that means I still need to keep things secret."
"We must abide by the advice of the Oracle," Pythagoras answered. "You must accept what you have been told."
"But why should I?" Jason protested. "Why should any of us? I know the Oracle knows a lot about the future; that she receives visions from the Gods… but she's only human herself. Why shouldn't I do what my own conscience is telling me is right, even if it disagrees with the word of the Oracle? She gave me that warning when I didn't know anyone really. I mean I'd met you and Hercules but I didn't really know either of you and I didn't know back then who I could trust. I know now and I'm so tired of keeping secrets… only I don't know what you'll think of me if I tell you the truth… whether you'll believe me or ever forgive me for not telling you… whether you'll think I'm mad."
"Jason you are my friend," Pythagoras answered confidently. "Nothing you could tell me would ever change that. I may not know much about where you came from before you landed on my balcony but I do know you… and I do not believe that you would ever truly lie to me."
"I've been lying to you from the start," Jason mumbled. "Letting you believe what you wanted about where I come from and not correcting you. Hercules was right: a lie is a lie, whether it's told directly or by choosing which bits of the truth to tell. I am a liar."
"No," Pythagoras protested firmly. "You were only protecting yourself and taking a reasonable precaution in an unfamiliar situation. The Oracle, who clearly knows exactly where you are from and knew who you were before you did, had instructed you to take that course. It was not a lie. It was self-preservation."
Jason peered up at his friend from under his eyelashes, concerned about what he would see. It wasn't that he doubted Pythagoras' sincerity – far from it – but he could hardly believe that even his gentle friend could be so understanding and forgiving. The affection and complete trust he saw reflected back from Pythagoras' blue eyes was enough to bring a lump to his throat.
"You're still the kindest man I have ever met," he muttered thickly. "And I'm still not sure that I really deserve your trust or your friendship." He broke off into a chesty cough.
"I am still worried about that cough," Pythagoras remarked. "Your chest is a lot more congested than I would like."
Jason wrinkled his nose but waved off his friend's concern.
"It'll be fine," he said. "Getting wet and cold yesterday probably didn't help. I don't feel all that bad if I'm honest. I mean, yes, when I first woke up my chest felt a bit tight… it sort of felt like Hercules was sitting on me… but I'm a lot better now that I'm up."
"Yes," Pythagoras responded. "I would imagine that being upright is more comfortable and will certainly be better for you."
"I know," Jason answered. "I have been ill before you know and before I came to Atlantis I had to look after myself. I think it's probably just the sort of thing that you have to wait out. At least we're indoors and in the dry for a few days… hopefully. That'll help."
"I think you are probably correct," Pythagoras said. He arched an eyebrow at Jason. "I hope you will not object too strongly if I try to help things along their way though. There are tonics that I know of that will be beneficial… and I will be insisting that you get enough rest."
Jason laughed.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't doing your mother hen routine." Then he sobered and squared his shoulders. "The Oracle told me that there were many worlds," he said softly.
"Other than this world?" Pythagoras asked.
"Yeah," his brunette friend answered. "She said that this world and the world I journeyed from were just two among many." He looked down at his hands again, uncertain that he wanted to see the look on Pythagoras' face.
"You come from another world?" Pythagoras gasped in shock. "You come from another world," he affirmed more certainly, seeing the look on Jason's face.
He did not doubt that his friend was telling the truth; there was no hint of jest in Jason's demeanour. The young hero looked horribly uncertain and anxious, as though he was unsure what Pythagoras' response to his revelation would be; was unsure whether he would be believed. Without even thinking of what he was doing Pythagoras reached out and grabbed his friend's arm, squeezing comfortingly.
"So that is why you know so little of our culture," he added softly.
Jason nodded dumbly.
Pythagoras attempted a reassuring smile.
"Suddenly a lot of things make a great deal more sense," he said.
"You're taking all this remarkably well," Jason said, risking a look at the young genius.
"I do not see the value in having a screaming fit," Pythagoras answered. "No doubt when this has all sunk in I will have many, many questions for you but for now will you tell me a little about this world that you have come from?"
"It's different to here… very different," Jason answered slowly. "For a start it's more than three thousand years in the future. Apparently my father took me through the gateway between the worlds when I was still a baby and abandoned me there."
Pythagoras could not fail to hear the underlying hurt in his friend's voice, but Aeson and his lack of parental ability was a problem for another time; for now he felt he had more than enough to try to comprehend.
"Tell me about Atlantis?" he asked. "What is it like in your world?"
Jason tensed involuntarily.
"There is no Atlantis," he admitted softly. "Maybe there was once but now it's just a story."
"The mythical city under the ocean," Pythagoras breathed, remembering his friend's words from the first day they had met. "That was what you said when you first learned where you were."
Jason nodded.
"Where I come from there's an ancient Greek writer – Plato. He wrote that Atlantis was an island that fell out of favour with the Gods and they made it sink into the sea. Only it's a myth… it never really existed… or maybe it did and everyone just forgot it… and Minos was King of Crete not Atlantis. It's what I found hardest when I came here. All the stories about ancient Greece that I heard when I was growing up are all true but they're all twisted too."
"What do you mean?" Pythagoras asked.
"Where I come from there are legends of Hercules… only he's a demi-God; the son of Zeus… and he's this massive hero who ends up being taken up to Olympus in the end. There's a Jason too… only he's definitely not me… I don't think. The Jason from the myths of my world was the son of a King who ended up going on a quest to find a golden fleece but he didn't face the Minotaur or fall in love with Ariadne – that was Theseus – and he didn't have anything to do with Medusa – that was Perseus. So maybe I'm not that Jason after all."
Pythagoras tried to make sense of this somewhat rambling speech – only one thing stuck in his mind.
"The people where you grew up think Hercules is a demi-God," he squeaked, unable to restrain his laughter. "Can you imagine what he would do?"
Jason looked startled for a moment. Then he sniggered too.
"He'd be up on Olympus teaching the Gods bawdy songs," he said.
"Or holding pie eating contests," Pythagoras suggested.
"Making rude words in the constellations."
"Gambling away whatever land he was supposed to be looking after."
"It wouldn't end well would it?" Jason asked between giggles.
"No," Pythagoras answered, his eyes dancing.
Neither young man could restrain their laughter for a minute or two. Then Jason looked serious again.
"Do you know the thing I struggled with most of all though?" he asked softly.
"No," Pythagoras answered.
"It was that in with all the mythological stories there are real people – real historical people mixed in… like you."
"Me?" Pythagoras couldn't help asking.
"Yes," Jason answered. "Where I come from you're a famous mathematician and philosopher. You came up with this theory about triangles that every child learns in school."
Pythagoras blinked.
"Did you learn it?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Jason answered.
Pythagoras blinked again, stunned.
"That is…"
"Amazing?" Jason said, giving a lopsided grin.
"Difficult to comprehend," Pythagoras answered. "I will need time to think on everything you have told me."
"Oh," Jason responded, his smile falling away as he looked down at his hands. "I understand… and I am sorry that I didn't tell you before… I wanted to but… I suppose I couldn't believe my luck. I've never fit in anywhere before but with you guys I felt like I did… and the longer I went without telling you the truth the harder it got."
"Do not be ridiculous," Pythagoras said sharply. "Whatever it is you are thinking right now please stop it. I am not about to insist that you leave or decide that you are no longer my friend. I may not have known your past but I do know you and I based my decision to be your friend on the person that I have come to know and love. As you have been told on numerous occasions we are a family and that is not about to change for anything."
"Do you think Hercules will feel that way too?" Jason asked.
"Now you really are being ridiculous!" Pythagoras stated. "Hercules may be upset at first but he will undoubtedly forget it as soon as he realises that his name is still remembered so many years in the future. To truly know that he is a legend among his people will more than make up for anything else." He hesitated for a moment. "I do have to ask though… how did you come to arrive in Atlantis? You spoke of a portal?"
"I don't really know," answered Jason. "I was trying to find out what had happened to my father. Everything I told you about that was true. Only… the ship I was on went under the water… it's called a sub. There was some sort of accident – a bright light in the water – and the next thing I knew I was waking up naked on the beach. I don't know how I got here and I don't know how to get back even if I wanted to… which I don't by the way."
"And I would not wish you to return there unless it was your desire to do so," Pythagoras responded warmly. "We do have to consider something though."
"What?"
"How we are going to tell Hercules."
"How you are going to tell Hercules what?" Hercules' deep voice boomed from behind Jason.
Both young men started in surprise, turning to look at the burly wrestler with identical expressions of shock that he would have found funny if he had not been suspicious of the conversation he had just walked in on. The fact that Jason was managing to look both guilty, nervous and a little defiant did nothing to calm those suspicions.
Jason peered around his older friend towards the bed, noting with some relief that Pasiphae seemed to still be sleeping peacefully. Then he turned back to Hercules.
"I think you'd better sit down," he ventured. "There's something I need to tell you."
It was afternoon when Pythagoras slip-slithered his way down an embankment in search of his burly friend. Hercules had had quite long enough to brood and it really wasn't going to do any of them any good to allow it to continue. At the bottom he paused and looked at his old friend's broad back, taking in the stiff tension in Hercules' strong shoulders and mentally preparing himself for the conversation he knew was to come. Hercules was nothing if not predictable after all and would undoubtedly take his worry and temper out on the first person that came to hand – which in this case was going to be Pythagoras – and the young genius knew he had to prepare himself for that.
It wasn't that he didn't understand Hercules' anger but he could look at things a little more logically. What was done was done for good or ill and in truth he could see the point of view of both his friends. Hercules was hurt that Jason had apparently not trusted them enough to tell them where he came from months ago, but equally Jason had been acting out of self-preservation in the wake of a direct command from the Oracle. Pythagoras' task, as he saw it, was to bridge the gap between his friends and make them see one another's viewpoint.
That had not been too difficult a task with Jason. Once Hercules had stormed out of the hunting lodge rather than lose his temper and risk waking the Queen, Jason had begun the process of retreating into himself again – something that Pythagoras wanted to prevent. A few carefully placed words had encouraged his brunette friend to acknowledge that Hercules was acting out of hurt rather than genuine anger, and Pythagoras was certain that although Jason was still feeling guilty over this – was still mentally kicking himself – it was something that would be quickly sorted out once Hercules was persuaded to come around. This was not something serious enough to break the bond – to break the family – that the three of them had formed and the quicker Pythagoras' two friends could be made to see that the better.
It had seemed a reasonable idea to give Hercules a short time to calm down however, so Pythagoras had not immediately gone rushing after him. When Jason had expressed a certain amount of surprise at this, Pythagoras had gently told him that he had known Hercules for a lot longer than Jason had and knew the best way to deal with the big man's temper.
The arrival of Ariadne at that moment had been a godsend, distracting Jason from any thoughts of Hercules' temper or his own insecurities. Of course Pythagoras had then been forced to watch his friend and the woman he loved making cow eyes at one another without actually touching (in case Minos walked in unexpectedly), but all in all the distraction that the beautiful Princess provided was a good thing – temporarily freeing Pythagoras from the burden of consoling one friend while giving him the chance to deal with the other.
So here he was now, staring at Hercules' broad back and wondering about the best way to broach the subject was.
"I know you're there Pythagoras," Hercules rumbled softly without turning. "I can feel you thinking from all the way over there… you're going to take his side again aren't you?"
"There are no sides," Pythagoras stated firmly. "There is only us and our family."
He crossed the small clearing to the burly wrestler's side and began picking up sticks in silence, helping Hercules with his self-imposed task of collecting firewood.
"He lied to us," Hercules burst out suddenly.
"Jason did not tell us the truth," Pythagoras agreed, "but I think you will see why if you think about it… besides you have lied to me many times over the years."
"When have I ever lied to you?" Hercules demanded, affronted.
"Very frequently," Pythagoras answered.
"Ridiculous! When? Name one time when I have ever lied to you!"
"Well when you are hungry or in need of wine or wish to gamble… all of which you are most of the time. What about the time when you told me that a goat had burgled the house and taken the housekeeping money that I was hiding."
"That was all true!" Hercules protested.
"Hercules the money was beneath the floorboards in my chamber! Are you really trying to tell me that a goat managed to open the door, climb the stairs, open the door at the top, come into my chamber, lift the floorboards, remove the money and then replace the floorboards and leave the way it came, leaving no indications of its presence and closing all the doors behind it?" Pythagoras asked incredulously.
"It was a very talented goat!"
"Well what about the time when you arranged that job for the three of us and then tried to get out of doing any work by claiming to have put your back out?"
"I had!"
"We found you down at the tavern later that evening, so drunk you could not see straight and trying to dance with the serving girl!"
"The alcohol eased the pain," Hercules stated. "I was still practically crippled… I could barely move."
"You were moving swiftly enough when we found you," Pythagoras retorted primly. "I did not know it was possible for a man of your size to bend so far over backwards."
Hercules grinned.
"Was I?" he smirked.
"Or the time when you wanted to borrow money to bet on a beetle and told me that you needed it for your sick mother. When I reminded you that you never knew your mother and refused, you became so angry that you dangled me head first from the balcony."
"If I'd been truly angry I'd have dropped you head first from the balcony," Hercules said, sitting down on a fallen tree. "And what sort of man refuses to believe his friend and won't lend him money for his sick mother? Shame on you."
"Anyway you are not so whiter that white where lies are concerned," Pythagoras said coming to join Hercules on the log. "You must see that Jason had no choice."
"Maybe," Hercules answered, drifting off into silence.
They sat without speaking for a moment or two, each lost in their own thoughts.
Finally Pythagoras roused.
"Do you remember when we first met?" he asked.
Hercules let out a breath.
"Yeah," he said with a wry half-smile. "You were so young and skinny a good breeze could have knocked you over."
"And you were still a drunken oaf," Pythagoras retorted with a smile to remove the harshness from his words. "You were coming out of the tavern, blind drunk, and found me in the process of being robbed. I can remember you driving off the attackers and then passing out in the gutter. It took me forever to find out where you lived and drag you home… I only intended to stay until morning to make sure that you were alright but somehow I never left."
"Good times," Hercules said. "There's nothing like a good gutter brawl to get your heart pumping."
"I always wondered why you stopped and saved me," Pythagoras said softly, "when everyone else had put their heads down and hurried on by."
"Well you looked so pathetic that I couldn't just leave you," his friend answered, "and your squealing was disturbing my quality drinking time… besides there were five of them and only one of you, and I've never liked bullies."
"It was a long time ago now," Pythagoras murmured. "We have been friends for a long time."
"Long enough to forget how long and believe it to be forever," Hercules agreed.
"Would you ever have believed that we would be where we are now?" the mathematician asked.
"Hiding out in the middle of the forest with the King and Queen and a marauding army of invaders searching for us you mean?" Hercules enquired. "No I wouldn't. I still can't quite get my head round it as it is."
Pythagoras hesitated for a moment before going on.
"Every choice that has brought us here… every adventure or misadventure that we have had… would you change it if you could? Would you rather Jason had never come to Atlantis if it meant we were both safely at home?"
Hercules' eyes hardened.
"No," he answered shortly. "No I wouldn't. The Gods know that that boy is a constant source of worry to me but I've grown too fond of him to want to change anything now. I'm almost as fond of Jason as I am of you." He spotted the misty look in Pythagoras' eyes and rushed to clarify his last remark. "Of course I'm not as fond of either one of you as I am of wine… or pies," he asserted.
Pythagoras gave him a tolerantly amused look.
"Of course not," he said, the twinkle in his eyes making it plain that he didn't believe Hercules' assertion for a moment.
"No I wouldn't change things," Hercules went on, "and I'll keep following him on these ridiculous missions… even if I do think he's completely insane at times... He still shouldn't have lied to us though."
"Think about it for a moment," Pythagoras suggested. "Jason was far from home in a strange place where he knew no-one. You had already instructed me to get rid of him – to make him leave – and the person he went to for guidance – the Oracle – ordered him not to tell anyone where he came from. If he had told us back then would either one of us have believed him? Or would you have thought he was mad and driven him away?"
Hercules pulled a sour face.
"I'd have thought he was mad," he admitted. "But you have to admit that it is an insane story. I mean… the idea of anyone coming from another world that just happens to be somewhere in the far future is a bit mad."
"It does make sense though," Pythagoras said quietly. "I keep thinking of the day when we met Jason and the strange things he said. At the time I believed him to be delirious and babbling but now everything he said makes sense. He referred to my love of triangles as soon as he heard my name and clearly knew your name… but he also clearly did not come from anywhere local."
"I remember," Hercules answered shortly. "I remember a strange lad with the look of a startled rabbit and frightened eyes. Gods, if he'd arrived here by accident from a world that was so different he must have been at least a little bit terrified."
"You remember that the guards were hunting for him and that he had been shot in the arm?" Pythagoras asked. "When he came round he suggested that he must be dreaming or hallucinating or dead. As I say, at the time I believed him to be delirious when in reality it was probably the only way he could accept what was happening to him."
"I understand why he never said anything at first," Hercules rumbled. "But in all the time since… everything we've been through together… and he never said a word. It just feels like he didn't trust us."
"You have to remember that Jason was still acting under the instructions of the Oracle," Pythagoras pointed out reasonably. "Besides, he said himself that the longer he left it the harder it became to admit the truth. I think that no matter how close we had become there was always a part of Jason that was afraid that if we learned the truth…"
"We would reject him," Hercules finished. He sighed.
"Indeed," Pythagoras agreed. "I believe that ours is the first proper home he has had in many years and he was afraid of jeopardising it by admitting that he had been keeping some fairly large secrets from us."
"So why tell us now? Why after waiting for so long has he chosen to tell us his secrets?"
"Because he could," Pythagoras answered simply. He gave Hercules an appraising look. "Perhaps rather than feeling slighted that Jason did not tell us of his origins before we should be pleased that he has felt able to tell us now," he suggested.
The burly wrestler had the good grace to look a little ashamed of himself.
"You're a good friend to me Pythagoras," he murmured. "To me and to Jason even when we're both too pig-headed and obstinate to see it.
"Better than you deserve," the young mathematician said.
"No," Hercules objected. "Maybe," he admitted.
Pythagoras looked up through the trees, trying to gauge the position of the sun.
"We should be getting back," he said softly. "The others will be wondering where we have gone."
Hercules nodded and stood up, turning to grasp his young friend's arm to pull him to his feet before stooping to gather up the armload of wood he had collected.
The walk back to the hunting lodge was completed in comfortable silence; neither friend deeming conversation to be necessary as they enjoyed one another's company, their long years of friendship making the atmosphere between them relaxed and easy. On reaching their destination they ducked around the back to deposit their collected firewood on the small pile against the back wall of the building.
When they came back around the side of the lodge Jason was waiting for them outside the door. He waited for them to draw close, apparently almost unable to meet Hercules' eyes.
"What are you doing out here in the cold when you could be in the warm?" Hercules growled, frowning.
"I was worried," Jason answered, his tone subdued. "You've been gone some time."
Hercules deliberately ignored the encouraging look that Pythagoras was giving him and stepped closer to his other friend.
"What happened earlier," the big man said. "What passed between us…"
"It was me," Jason answered, finally raising his eyes to meet his friend's. "It was all me. It was my fault. I should have told you sooner. Hercules I'm sorry."
"No," Hercules said gently. "I understand. You had no choice at first… and afterwards it was too difficult. You were only doing what the Oracle told you to do."
"Forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive," Hercules asserted. "You and Pythagoras… you're my only family."
He reached out and grasped his young friend's hand, pulling him in for a one armed hug and pounding lightly on the young man's back.
Jason reciprocated wholeheartedly, the look of relief in his eyes bringing a lump to Hercules' throat.
In an attempt to lighten the conversation the burly wrestler cleared his throat.
"Anyway," he rumbled, "tell me more about these stories about me from your world." He cast a significant glance at Pythagoras. "Not that I would expect any less than to be famous in your time," he added. "I've always told you that I'm a legend amongst my people."
Jason gave him a lopsided smile.
"Well," he said. "For a start everyone thinks you're the son of Zeus…"
Commander Briarus looked up from the account he was reading of last night's tavern brawl with a sigh. He was a solid, dependable man rapidly approaching middle years and a good soldier, although lacking in those flashes of inspiration that marked a true military genius. Still he had served his country and his King loyally for many years and was rightly proud of that fact, having risen to the rank of garrison commander in Kantonum – a small market town on the far side of the Forest of Nysa; the birthplace of King Minos' first wife – a connection of which the citizens were remarkably proud and never failed to tell visitors to their settlement.
Many of the men under Briarus' command secretly despised Kantonum, with its petty, self-important officials and small, provincial problems. It was hardly a bustling metropolis like the city of Atlantis itself, and many of the garrison dreamed of returning to serve in the capital; of winning honours for themselves in battle; of finally returning to their homes as heroes. Briarus shook his head. Most of his men could not see that serving the King in this sleepy little backwater was just as important as guarding the capital itself and that there was great honour and satisfaction to be found in the knowledge of a duty well done.
Kantonum suited Briarus well enough and he had long since ceased to dream of further promotion or any great battle honours. It was true that most of his job involved mediating in petty disputes between the citizens or investigating minor crimes but Briarus was a born administrator and so the role suited him perfectly. Did he dream of one day returning to Atlantis, the city of his birth? Perhaps, but he was realistic enough to know that this would most likely be when he finally retired from the army and looked to settle down to civilian life. That time seemed far away yet though; Briarus could no more imagine life outside a garrison than he could dream of meeting the monarch who he had served so faithfully for so long.
For now he looked back at the report in his hand and frowned deeply. It seemed that the brawl had been started by two of his own men. That they had even been involved was something that he could hardly afford to overlook but the fact that they had instigated the whole affair made it doubly important that he acted. The problem was that these were two of his best and most loyal men. Morale was already fairly low within the garrison as news of the siege besetting Atlantis had reached them. The men wanted desperately to be part of the battle – to help to defend the city that they served – so the orders received from the King that they were to remain where they were protecting Kantonum and the surrounding countryside had not been popular. Briarus knew that the defence of the outlying towns was important of course – after all what use would it be for the city to survive if the rest of the Kingdom fell? But it did not make it any easier for the men to bear, particularly as it was well known that the garrison of Gorgene, the next town over, had been ordered back to Atlantis to aid in the defence.
The men were bored and frustrated and the fact that no real news had come from the city since the Amphigeneians had tightened their stranglehold on the place more than a fortnight ago was not helping. Briarus had a feeling that that frustration had a lot to do with last night's foolishness. His problem was that the rules and regulations of the army dictated that he had to punish the men – and probably fairly severely – yet he found that he hadn't really got the stomach for it. He understood and sympathised with his men in this case; the longer they went without news the more worried he found himself getting. But if he didn't make an example of this pair then his own authority might be threatened. Briarus sighed, silently cursing the two for putting him in this position.
With a frustrated huff he pushed himself to his feet, kicking back the chair he had been sitting on and striding briskly to the door. Throwing it open he thrust his head out into the corridor beyond, startling the guard whose job it was to ensure that any orders he made were dispatched and enacted quickly.
"Have Thrasilaus and Tydeus brought to me," he barked.
"At once," the guard stated.
Briarus made his way back into the room and sat back down, returning his contemplation to the report of last night's fracas. It was a mess and one which he would be expected to clear up to everyone's satisfaction and discipline must be maintained. It was a lesson that he had learned early, taught by his first captain. He smiled softly to himself at the memory. His captain had been young, newly promoted and keen to do his duty. Briarus had been a raw recruit back then – an idealistic young boy who dreamed of glory in battle every bit as much as the men under his command now did. The young captain who had been his first officer had taken that boy and moulded him into a worthwhile soldier.
It had been no surprise to Briarus to find that his former captain had risen quickly through the ranks until he had finally attained the position of general. He had known almost from the start that Dion was destined for greatness; had idolised and hero-worshiped the man. Yet he had no doubt that Dion's elevation was well deserved. He had been a conscientious and caring officer with a high moral code and a great devotion to duty even as a young man.
So what would Dion do in Briarus' position? How would he maintain discipline while preventing the morale of the men from falling even further? Briarus sighed. There seemed to be no easy solution.
A knock at the door made the commander straighten in his seat, pasting his most forbidding expression onto his face.
"Come in," he instructed.
The two soldiers who were brought before him to stand between two of the other guards, their hands shackled, looked decidedly the worse for wear. Tydeus sported a split lip and a swollen nose, clearly broken, and Thrasilaus' right eye was so swollen and blackened that it seemed impossible that he could see out of it. Briarus was in no doubt that both probably had an impressive collection of bruises and abrasions beneath their clothing that would be throbbing now that the copious amounts of alcohol the men had consumed the night before had worn off.
"Unshackle them," Briarus commanded, looking at the two guards who had accompanied the prisoners, "and then you may wait outside."
He had no wish to humiliate any of his men by determining their fate and their punishment in front of their comrades.
Briarus went back to examining his report while the guards undid the shackles and marched out. For a few long moments he remained staring at the document, knowing that the two men were waiting for him to explode and well aware that his continued silence would be unnerving them. Finally he looked up.
"Well?" he asked evenly. "What have you got to say for yourselves?"
His two subordinates shuffled awkwardly, looking remarkably like young schoolboys awaiting a telling off by their pedagogue rather than the hard-bitten soldiers of several years' experience that he knew them to be. They looked at one another uneasily; each clearly willing the other to speak first. Briarus raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the pair of them.
"It wasn't our fault," Tydeus ventured eventually.
"Oh?" Briarus asked. "So it wasn't you two who started a fight in the tavern that resulted in several injuries, the destruction of much of the tavern furnishings and the loss of," he paused to consult the parchment, "a large quantity of wine, several shop awnings and a goat?"
Thrasilaus leant towards Tydeus.
"What happened to the goat?" he asked with genuine perplexion.
"Antipatris needed a snack," Tydeus murmured as if that explained everything. He turned back to his officer and attempted to straighten. "It was sort of us, Sir," he said.
"But it really wasn't our fault," Thrasilaus added.
"Do tell," Briarus asked with false reasonableness.
"You see Sir… we were off duty last night and went to the tavern for a few drinks and a round of dice," Tydeus said. "Thrasilaus ended up betting against Bardus the butcher's son… only then we realised that Bardus was cheating and Thrasilaus may have ended up calling him a miserable little sneak and a thief and he didn't take it too well."
Briarus raised an eyebrow.
"Yes I can see that," he said. Then he took a deep breath. "Do you two idiots have any idea what you have done?" he roared. "What you have caused? We are in a state of war and the last thing we need right now is civil unrest because you decide to go out drinking and upset most of the town with your antics."
"Sir," Thrasilaus began.
"Military regulations are clear," Briarus went on, completely ignoring the fact that the other man had spoken, "and I have no choice but to follow them. By rights I should have you thrown out of the army and sent back to Atlantis in chains to face the judgement of General Dion… but as the city is under siege that is not possible and I am unwilling to lose two of my most senior soldiers over such a petty matter. Make no mistake gentlemen that this is not a reprieve, however. By the time I am finished with the two of you, you will wish that you had never even heard of the tavern."
"Sir," Tydeus tried. "Please accept our apologies. Bardus made some nasty remarks about our army and we felt that we had to defend our honour."
"Your apologies are noted, Tydeus," Briarus said. "But it will not alter your fates. I will not have my men acting like a common rabble. I should order you to be flogged but as you may be needed in the near future I will postpone that for now… but be in no doubt that if you so much as breathe without my permission I will have you put to the lash without another moment's hesitation."
The two soldiers breathed a silent sigh of relief. They knew (had always known to be honest) that their officer's bark was so much worse than his bite but there was still the danger that he would be compelled to follow regulations to the letter. The knowledge that a flogging was not in their immediate futures therefore came as something of a relief.
"The two of you will be confined to your quarters until further notice but it will hardly matter… you will be too busy to notice. For the next month you will be on punishment duties. If it needs repairing you will be the ones to repair it; if it needs cleaning you will be the ones to clean it. I expect to see this garrison sparkling. You will report to the master of supplies for a list of your duties first thing in the morning and I do not intend to give you an easy time. You…"
A knock at the door interrupted him. Briarus frowned deeply.
"Come," he barked.
It was the guard he had sent earlier to fetch Thrasilaus and Tydeus.
"I am sorry to disturb you Sir," he said respectfully, "but a messenger has arrived baring orders with the seal of the King."
Briarus straightened in his seat, pulling his tunic into place properly and tidying the parchments on his desk.
"Send him in at once," he ordered. He turned slightly to cast a sour look at his two subordinates. "It would appear that you have had a temporary reprieve," he remarked. "We will continue this discussion later. For now I believe that the latrines require cleaning and the cess pit needs emptying."
He did not miss the way both men winced. Cleaning out the latrines and the cess pit were two of the most reviled duties in the garrison – which was, of course, precisely why he had assigned them to it.
The man who entered as the chastened duo filed out was young. Dressed in the tunic and breastplate of an Atlantian soldier, he appeared travel stained and weary. Briarus was not by nature an unkind man and as the young soldier banged his fist against his breastplate in a salute he gestured for the man to sit down.
"You have orders for me?" he asked.
The young soldier went to jump up from his seat again, immediately proffering a parchment.
"Sit down for goodness sake," Briarus snapped, standing and coming around the table to take the orders for himself. "You look like your journey has been a hard one."
"It has Sir," the young soldier said.
"Then rest now while you can," Briarus said. "What is your name?" he added as he returned to his desk and began to open the document.
"Asopus Sir."
Briarus allowed a smile to touch his face, transforming him from stern to genial in a moment.
"You have fulfilled your duty commendably Asopus," he remarked, "and I will ensure that my report to General Dion reflects this."
He began to skim the orders as he spoke. Suddenly he froze and swore, staring up at Asopus with horrified eyes.
"This must be a hoax," he growled.
"I would that it were Sir," Asopus said firmly. "I left the King and General Dion not three days since. The General urges you to make haste. His Majesty has urgent need of you and your men."
Briarus skimmed the parchment once more, taking particular note of the seal at the bottom. This was no hoax it appeared – no matter how much he might wish to believe that it were. With swift movements he crossed to the door and jerked it open, demanding that the startled guard send for his deputy and four of his most trusted men. Then he turned back to the weary Asopus.
"You will undoubtedly be keen to return to His Majesty," he said, "but for now quarters will be found for you. I suggest you take advantage of them until the garrison is ready to depart. I would expect that to be around dusk so you will have the day to rest and eat a good hot meal. A horse will be provided to aid your journey."
"You have my thanks Sir," Asopus said gratefully. "I am ordered by General Dion to return with news from Kantonum as soon as the King's orders were delivered."
"I understand that you have further copies of these orders," Briarus stated, gesturing towards the document, "and that I am to ensure that these are delivered to other garrisons."
"Yes Sir," the young soldier answered. "Two of my comrades have been sent to Mallena and Ephitake with the same orders."
"Very good," Briarus answered, looking hard at a map that he now unrolled on his desk.
Silence blossomed in the room as the garrison commander considered his orders and the best way to fulfil them. It was broken by the arrival of the men Briarus had sent for.
"Ah," Briarus said as they filed in. "Good. We have received new orders. The garrison is to be made ready to march this very day. Atlantis… the city itself that is… has fallen to our enemies. The King and General Dion have escaped and have bid us to join them as quickly as we may. The King is gathering an army to take back the city and we are to be a part of that. You have all, I know, longed for action and it appears that now you are to get your chance. We will leave at dusk and travel in small units, avoiding any enemy patrols wherever possible. You four," he looked at the four soldiers he had sent for, "are to take orders to Sybena, Lisope, Hybetra and Taramea. Bid the garrisons to join us as soon as may be." He looked at Asopus. "I would have those extra copies now," he declared.
"At once Sir," Asopus said, retrieving the orders from about his person and handing them to the commander.
"Very good," Briarus said. "Tell His Majesty that we are coming," he instructed Asopus. "The garrison of Kantonum stands ready to serve. We are going to war."
