A/N Thank you all once again for the kind reviews and for sticking with me this far. Special thanks to Polly for the advice on this chapter.
Once again - please read and review
Warning - There is a scene at the start of this chapter that is somewhat dark - if you don't like that sort of thing please don't read...
Hercules stepped through the doorway into the dimly lit tavern interior and breathed in the oh so familiar scents. If his mission weren't so serious he would have smiled. For many years the tavern had been his true home – his house being somewhere he went back to occasionally to eat and sleep. All that had changed when first Pythagoras had moved in and then, several years later, Jason had arrived. Both boys had innocently insinuated themselves into his life – had slotted in to places in his heart that he hadn't even known were empty until they had been filled. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, the idea of life without either of his boys had become unthinkable. Paradoxically they made him feel both young again and older than ever with their bright youthful ways. His cold lonely house had become a warm and bright home. Hercules smiled inwardly. The two boys were so very different and yet, in some ways, so very much alike. They both hid secrets a little too well for the big man's comfort. No one looking at Pythagoras would dream of his dark past. The blonde mathematician was studious and logical, but open and friendly and, in some ways, so very, very innocent. His big heart could never turn away a creature in trouble, whether it be the broken winged bird he had tried to nurse back to health (and mourned when it died) or the dark haired fugitive that had landed on the balcony and burst so spectacularly into both their lives. Jason, on the other hand, remained something of an enigma. The boy was brave and heroic, but could be surprisingly sensitive and perceptive – always ready to listen to others troubles with a friendly ear – and to jump into action to help at a moments notice. He was exasperatingly headstrong, impulsive and stubborn – an impulsiveness born of his youth Hercules thought – with an open easy-going smile that appeared often. But sometimes, when he thought no-one was looking, Hercules would catch him staring out across the city pensively, or watching a family that he saw in the street with such sadness in his eyes that it made the big man's heart ache to see it. It had come as no real surprise to Hercules to discover that Jason had been orphaned at a young age – that he was all alone in the world – and he wondered how much of that easy-going smile was a defence that Jason hid behind. It was true, it had to be said, that the boy was, in his own way, as unworldly and innocent as Pythagoras – his kind heart leading him into trouble that a less naïve person might avoid. The big man grimaced to himself. He had come to regard it as his job – his duty – to preserve the innocence of both his boys for as long as possible; to place himself as a buffer between them and the rest of the world. That, of course, was what had brought him to this particular tavern at this particular time. To a certain extent Jason's naivety had led them into the situation they were in now. Hercules had frequently been known to take jobs from rich merchants – but never ones he had only just met in a tavern and never without knowing something about them first. He frowned. What made his blood boil was that the merchant, Dakos, had taken advantage of the boy's naivety and, through his actions, had sought to condemn the lad to a truly awful fate. He could not be allowed to get away with it. With renewed purpose, Hercules stepped forwards towards a table in a dimly lit corner.
The man seated at the table was tall and rail thin. His skin was as pale as the underbellies of the fish that Hercules sometimes saw being gutted at the docks, his head was sparsely covered with greying sandy hair and his mouth was sensuous. Hercules shuddered inwardly. The man's eyes were cold, hard and flat and his smile was reptilian – the sort of smile Hercules imagined a snake might give just before it bit someone. His name was Alektryon and he had a dark reputation. Rumour had it that he had a preference for young men – the younger the better – not that Hercules objected to that in principle. His motto had always been live and let live and it wasn't as if he hadn't experimented with many different things himself in his youth – although he couldn't really understand why someone would want the angles and hard muscles of a man when they could have the curves and softness of a lovely young woman. But it was said that Alektryon did not always bother whether or not the boy he chose was willing – in fact it was rumoured that the more one of his conquests struggled the more he liked it. Hercules shuddered again. He did not really relish the idea of doing business with Alektryon but the man did have contacts all over the city and often knew secrets and information before anyone else – he could prove to be useful whether Hercules liked it or not.
"Hercules," Alektryon said in his peculiarly high pitched lisp. "Sit down and have drink with me."
"I'm not here for pleasure," the big man rumbled.
Alektryon pouted.
"So few people want to stay and drink with me," he said.
"I wonder why that is," Hercules responded sardonically.
"You wound me. What is it that has brought you to my door?"
"Information."
"Ah but what information do you seek, I wonder," Alektryon said, his eyes knowing. "Could it be anything to do with that delicious dark haired boy who lives with you?"
"What do you know about Jason?" Hercules asked, his face stony.
The thin man smiled nastily.
"Only that he returned to Atlantis nearly two weeks ago and that those who saw him said that he looked half dead – that he may even be dead by now – although I doubt it... you would not be here if the boy was not still alive. You must know though that information costs money."
Hercules glowered at the man as he passed a gold coin across the table.
"I want to know where the merchant, Dakos, can be found."
Alektryon caught up the gold coin and bit it.
"Sorry," he apologised insincerely in response to Hercules' raised eyebrow, "you can never be too careful these days and you must admit that you are a man with a reputation for having many debts. Why do you wish to find the merchant?"
"He owes me money," Hercules responded coldly.
"I find that very hard to believe," Alektryon said with another reptilian smile, "but no matter. I do not need to know why you wish him found." He sighed. "I know the man of whom you speak. I have not heard that he is in Atlantis, however. He has conducted no business here in weeks."
Hercules growled in frustration at another dead end. He pushed himself up from the bench, turning to leave when a limp hand grasping his wrist made him stop and look down.
"I cannot fault your taste, Hercules," Alektryon said. "The two boys you live with are truly delicious. The blonde... so delicate and innocent. And the brunette... yum, yum... If you ever tire of either of them be sure to let me know. I would be pleased to take either one of them off your hands. Educating either of them would be an unrivalled pleasure."
Hercules felt his blood run cold. Moving with truly incredible speed for a man his size, he launched himself across the table and pinned Alektryon to the floor, his knife coming up to the man's throat almost before he was aware that he had taken it out of its sheath.
"If you touch either of those boys," he said in a terrifyingly quiet voice, "if you so much as look in their direction... if I ever hear you've even breathed near them... I will make sure that you will never go near another boy again," he dropped the knife until it rested against Alektryon's trousers. "I won't kill you... I won't be that kind. Do we understand one another?"
At Alektryon's answering nod, Hercules stood up. Looking back down at the man he spat derisively, before turning and making his way out of the tavern. Once outside he stumbled over to a fountain and sat down on the edge, stomach churning at the suggestions Alektryon had made. Eyes closed, he sat there for a while trying to quell the nausea he felt and to still his shaking hands. Eventually he calmed down and stood ready to begin the search for Dakos once again.
It was a lot later than Pythagoras had intended when he left the library. He had simply got so caught up in his research that he had completely lost track of the passage of time – something that happened all too often when he was working. He smiled to himself. It had not been a fruitless search, however, and he had come away with a much better understanding of the history of the ring of Gyges and with more leads to follow next time. All in all he was rather pleased with himself. It did briefly cross his mind that Jason was in all probability awake by now and might be wondering where he was, but he felt secure in the knowledge that his friend understood by now the need to rest and recover and would therefore stay indoors as he had been told.
He entered the marketplace almost absently, his mind still on other things.
"Pythagoras," Medusa's light voice ringing out in greeting across the agora startled him out of his reverie just in time to prevent him from walking straight into a stall of exquisite (and expensive) pottery. He turned as the girl trotted over to him, basket on her arm.
"Medusa," Pythagoras greeted her with genuine pleasure.
"You look happy," Medusa smiled brightly at him as they resumed walking.
"I am," the blonde responded. "I am just returning from the library."
"Ah," Medusa tried to feign an interest. "How is Hercules? I have hardly seen him in the last two days. I'm beginning to think he is no longer interested in me," she added smiling, her eyes dancing with laughter showing that she did not seriously mean it.
"He has been... busy," Pythagoras struggled to find an excuse.
"Doing what?"
"Erm..."
"Pythagoras," Medusa said warningly.
"Yes... of course," the mathematician gave in. "He has been searching for the merchant Dakos."
Medusa grabbed his arm urgently, face suddenly deadly serious.
"Why?" she asked. "Why would he do that?"
Pythagoras frowned.
"What he did, Medusa... what he did to Jason... we could not let him get away with it."
"So you want revenge," Medusa stated biting her lip.
"Yes... No... Maybe?" Pythagoras looked wretched. "It's not revenge I want. It's justice."
"I understand," Medusa said. "If there is anything I can do to help – anything at all – promise me you will let me know."
Pythagoras smiled.
"I promise," he said.
"How does Jason feel about this?" Medusa asked. When Pythagoras failed to answer she stopped and grabbed his arm again. "You have talked to him about this haven't you? He does know what you are planning?"
"Jason has other things that he should be thinking about," the blonde answered firmly. "He needs to take the time to recover properly. Not to be trying to gallivant off in search of the merchant. He needs to rest and regain his strength. He has not even been out of the house yet – we have not let him. He simply is not strong enough. Hercules impressed that upon him yesterday."
"Do you mean threatened him?" Medusa asked with wry amusement.
"He was certainly... forceful."
"Well it clearly worked well," Medusa stated, pointing towards a stall on the far side of the agora.
Pythagoras followed her finger. His mouth dropped open in a surprised 'oh' as he saw a very familiar brunette figure speaking to a merchant.
"I'm going to kill him," he breathed even as he started down the street.
On the other side of the square, Jason smiled at the merchant and tried to hitch the satchel he was carrying on his shoulder – the strap running crossways over his chest so that the main body of the bag rested on his hip – around to the front of his body without overbalancing. He was blissfully unaware of the doom that was rapidly approaching him in the form of an enraged mathematician. The journey from the house had taken longer than he had thought it would and had been far more tiring. Having slid down the stairs on his bum, he had had to rest for several minutes to get his breath back before starting the short journey to fetch milk. Even then he had had to stop several times on the way to rest, leaning up against a wall or on the edge of a fountain as weariness washed over him. When had the marketplace become so large? This was normally a journey he would make in no time at all, running down from the house milk jug in hand. He sighed. Still at least he was here now – out of breath and slightly dizzy from exertion it had to be said – but still here.
"What'll it be?" Egina the milk seller asked. She was a kindly middle aged woman who had taken a bit of a shine to Jason in the months he had been in Atlantis and always greeted him with a smile and a kind word whenever he came to fetch milk. In some ways he reminded her of her son – although that good-for-nothing was currently pickling what little was left of his brains in alcohol in Pathmos with never a thought for his poor old mother!
Jason tried to shift the bag round a little more until he could get the amphora out of it without letting go of his crutches. He suddenly felt very vulnerable and more than a little unstable with so many people pushing past each other in the bustling square. Egina saw his predicament and reached into the bag for him, withdrawing the amphora with a smile.
"Fill it up?" she asked. She had wondered where the boy had been for the last few weeks. Looking at him now she frowned. He didn't look like he was in any fit state to be let out on his own.
Jason nodded, smiling his thanks.
Egina carefully filled the amphora and stoppered it, placing it back into the bag on the lad's shoulder and taking the money he awkwardly proffered, still trying to keep the crutch under his arm even as he reached his hand forward.
Task accomplished Jason sighed in relief. At least he could go home now. Perhaps Pythagoras had been right when he had said that it was too soon for him to be going out. He was quite frankly exhausted and his foot and side were throbbing. Suddenly a hand caught his arm roughly, nearly pulling him off balance and just like that the world shut down around him. The sights and sounds of the agora disappeared to be replaced by the horror of his prison cell and the laughter of his captors. He let out a feral keen of terror as his breath started to come in short gasps and he bit down on his lip so hard that he could taste blood in his own mouth.
Pythagoras felt his anger turning to horror as he clasped his friend's arm. He had not thought that Jason would react so violently to being grabbed like that. He had crossed the agora in a state of righteous anger, knowing that there was no way Jason should be out of the house and intending to give the brunette a piece of his mind. Instead the instant he grabbed Jason's arm the brunette had vanished inside his own head; had started having a flashback that was clearly terrifying him – and was now apparently in the grip of a serious panic attack – hyperventilating with all colour drained from his face. Pythagoras slid an arm around Jason's waist, gently rubbing his friend's arm with the other hand. He was aware that Medusa had come up beside him, face a picture of worry, but was somewhat surprised to see a vaguely familiar middle-aged woman on Jason's other side, murmuring soothing words to the brunette lad. She was the milk seller if he wasn't mistaken – although her name escaped him for the moment.
As Jason gradually returned to the present Pythagoras risked a tentative smile.
"Are you alright now?" he asked softly.
Jason nodded dumbly and leant into his friend, tired beyond belief. As he became more aware of his surroundings he realised that a small crowd had gathered around them, witnessing his mini-meltdown, making him blush in sudden horrified embarrassment.
"None of that now lad," Egina said kindly. "Any fool can see you've not been well." She looked around him towards Pythagoras. "You'll take him home?"
Pythagoras nodded.
"As soon as we can get through," he said.
Egina smiled.
"Leave that to me," she assured the mathematician. She turned to the crowd and hitched up her ample bosom. "Right you lot," she shouted, "unless you're all here to buy milk or cheese I want you to leave the front of my stall before I call the guards and have you all arrested for loitering. You're stopping my customers from getting through."
As the crowd cleared she winked conspiratorially at Pythagoras, smiling the whole time. The blonde mathematician smiled back gratefully before steering a weary Jason over to a fountain and helping him to sit down on the edge. He sat down beside his friend in silence, knowing that he needed to have words with the brunette but unable to summon up his former ire. He was saved from speaking by Medusa.
"Will you two be alright?" she asked. "I should really be getting back to work – I was only sent out to buy some more cheese – but if you need me..."
"We'll be fine," Jason said numbly, fatigue dripping from his words. He smiled wanly at the girl. "Sorry about what happened back there."
Medusa patted his hand gently.
"Don't worry," she reassured him. "Just as long as you are alright. Tell Hercules I will come after work tomorrow."
She threaded her way back through the square, pausing to look back over her shoulder and give the two boys a little wave when she got to the far side.
Once she had gone Pythagoras turned to Jason. Before he could speak the brunette looked at him pleadingly.
"Can we go home?" he almost begged. "You can shout at me all you like when we get there but I just want to go home now."
Pythagoras looked at him seriously and nodded.
"Of course," he said and stood, taking the bag off Jason's shoulder before turning and helping his friend to his feet.
Together they made their way slowly through the streets towards home, stopping frequently for Jason to get his breath back. By the time they reached the outer door of the house it was apparent that he was almost ready to drop from exhaustion. Pythagoras eyed the stairs with dismay, wondering how on earth he was going to help Jason get back up them. Seeing him looking in consternation the brunette smiled tiredly.
"I am not quite sure how we are going to do this," the mathematician admitted.
"Same way I came down," Jason answered sitting down on the stairs. "I bunny hopped on my bum." He smiled again. "It's what I did when I broke my ankle too. I mean I could use the crutches... but this'll probably be easier right now."
Pythagoras watched him start up the stairs using his arms and good leg to push himself up almost in disbelief. Part of him wanted to scream at his friend for being so stubborn – and yet being stubborn was part of what made him Jason and was in all probability what had kept him alive when he had been held prisoner. Pythagoras settled for shaking his head in exasperation before trotting up the stairs after his friend, Jason's crutches tucked under his arm. At the top he helped his friend to stand shakily and watched as he made his unsteady way across the main room of their house, flopping down onto his bed with an audible sigh of relief and covering his face with his hands.
"You were right," Jason muttered before Pythagoras could say anything. "I shouldn't have gone out."
The mathematician attempted to smile as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to the brunette.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked softly watching as Jason pinched the bridge of his nose with a noticeable grimace.
"My side and my foot are throbbing... and my head's pounding," Jason admitted quietly.
Pythagoras frowned and went back into the main room, returning with a cup of water which appeared to have herbs mixed in. He handed it to his friend without a word and watched as Jason drank it in silence.
"That should help with the headache," the blonde said finally. He hesitated for a moment before ploughing on. "What were you doing out there?"
Jason breathed a short laugh and then wished he hadn't as he raised one hand to his aching head.
"We ran out of milk," he said, "and I thought I could nip down and get some more. I don't remember the agora being that far away though."
"It is not," Pythagoras answered raising an eyebrow, "but it might seem that way to someone who cannot even cross the room without becoming tired."
"I know, I know," Jason admitted. "I am sorry. I wasn't really thinking. I'll try to listen to you a bit more." He paused, a panicked look flashing across his eyes. "You won't tell Hercules will you?"
Pythagoras grinned openly at Jason's obvious fear at the thought of their burly friend's reaction to his escapade.
"Not this time," he reassured the brunette, patting his hand. "I don't think he needs to know – as long as you don't do anything like this again." His grin widened at Jason's obvious sigh of relief.
"Thanks. I promise I won't do it again," Jason said, his eyelids beginning to droop.
"Get some rest," Pythagoras ordered and stood with one final friendly pat to Jason's shoulder, moving back into the main room thoughts already turning to the plans he was making.
Hercules was still trying to shake off the horror of his meeting with Alektryon as he made his way into another tavern. This meeting promised to be far more pleasurable as he was going to visit his old friend Meriones. He smiled. In better circumstances there would be nothing he would like better than to sit and spend the evening drinking and catching up with a friend he hadn't seen for some time. With a start he realised that it must be more than six months since he had visited Meriones – where had the time gone? Of course he knew where it had gone; it had gone on evenings spent walking with Medusa, enjoying the first flourishings of the love he had believed was forever beyond his reach; had gone on days spent on wild adventures with the two boys – the sort of adventures he had dreamed of in his youth; had gone on evenings spent around the supper table or at the tavern, bantering back and forth, teasing one another; and he would not change any of it for the world – would not swap one second of his new life for any amount of time in the old one. Not that there weren't evenings he disappeared to the tavern of course – it was just that they no longer consumed his thoughts.
The tavern was beginning to fill as the day came to an end, workers wandering in to quench their thirst after a hard day. Hercules pushed and elbowed his way determinedly across the room, making for the loudest and most boisterous table. As he neared the table he stopped, thinking hard about the purpose of his visit.
"Hercules! My friend! Come, sit, drink!" The voice that rang out was loud and jolly. Hercules found himself smiling in spite of the seriousness of his self-imposed mission.
Meriones was an enormous, bluff, larger-than-life man, whose jolly personality and extreme drinking habits belied a whip-sharp mind. As Hercules sat down he rumbled a laugh, huge black beard wagging in his amusement.
"Meriones," Hercules greeted him as they clasped arms. "It's been too long."
"That it has, my friend. That it has. Come, we will get drunk together and serenade the beautiful women of Atlantis."
Hercules grimaced.
"There is nothing I would like more," he said. "But I'm not here to get drunk... I need your help."
Meriones leant forwards, his big face solemn.
"Anything for an old friend," he said sincerely. "What is it that you need?"
Hercules hesitated for a moment.
"I need to find the merchant, Dakos," he said.
"Why?" his friend asked.
"Because he hurt someone I am fond of," Hercules admitted.
Meriones looked at him shrewdly.
"And does the boy know that you are fond of him?" he asked.
"How did you know..."
Meriones laughed.
"There is not much that goes on in this city that I am not aware of," he said. "The two boys who share your house are your friends – perhaps they even feel a little like your sons at times – and one of them has been hurt."
"Yes," Hercules nodded with a sigh.
"He was hurt badly, your boy?"
"He nearly died."
Meriones nodded seriously.
"Then I would help you even if you were not my friend." He paused. "The merchant you are seeking is to be found lodging in an inn to the south of the Sacred Way. He arrived nearly three weeks ago and has not left his room since – all meals are sent up to him. I believe he is awaiting the return of his bodyguard... Since he has stayed in his room for so long perhaps he is unaware that your boy has survived. Perhaps you could use this to your advantage."
Hercules felt relief wash over him and he reached for a cup, drinking deeply of the wine inside. As he reached for the jug to refill it Meriones grabbed his wrist forcefully.
"Be careful of that one, Hercules," he said, his face deadly serious. "He is dangerous."
"Under the circumstances," Hercules answered equally solemnly, "so am I."
Night had long since fallen when Hercules stumbled up the stairs and into his house. Pythagoras looked up from the parchment he was straining to read in the dim lamplight and frowned.
"You're late," he said coolly, "and you're drunk."
"I may have had one or two drinks in celebration," Hercules stated loudly.
"You found him," Pythagoras breathed.
"The merchant Dakos is staying in an inn to the south of the Sacred Way," the big man said.
"Keep your voice down, for goodness sake," Pythagoras hissed, casting a nervous glance towards the alcove in the corner where Jason was apparently sleeping soundly.
"We've got him, Pythagoras," Hercules was almost crowing.
"Shh," the mathematician tried to calm his bulky friend down. "I wonder if it's the tavern where Jason had to go to meet him the day he left," he mused.
"Does it matter?"
"Hercules, keep your voice down! We are trying not to let Jason know what we are doing, remember?"
"It's fine. He's asleep," the big man rumbled.
"And we should be too. Come on let's go to bed. We can discuss our next move in the morning."
Pythagoras put out the lamp and gently guided Hercules to his room before making his way to his own bed, unaware of a pair of hazel eyes burning brightly in the darkness.
Jason lay in the darkness for some time thinking about what he had overheard. He felt angry and hurt and betrayed by his friends, even though he knew that they probably had his best interests at heart. How could they keep something like this from him? It was obvious now that Hercules had been out searching for Dakos and that the two of them were planning some sort of revenge on the man. Jason found that he couldn't fault their idea but couldn't quite believe that they had intended not to tell him about it. He sighed softly. He appreciated the effort but Dakos was his demon and it ought to be down to him to deal with the situation. Knowing that his friends would never agree to let him sort things out his own way – would never even agree to let him help them – he came to a decision. Reaching down under the bed he fished around for a while until his fingers touched his breastplate. It felt strange to be putting it on after so many weeks and as he tried to lace it he nearly cried out at the pressure it was putting on his healing ribs. Frowning he loosened the laces slightly before reaching back down to find his sword which he slung across his chest, trying to keep it from making a clatter. As quietly as possible he levered himself to his feet and picked up his crutches, before moving carefully across the room to the door. In the doorway he cast one last regretful look back into the house before slipping out into the night.
The soft sound of the door shutting woke Pythagoras from a troubled sleep. Unable to work out what had woken him he lay trying to get his tangled thoughts into some semblance of order, before rolling over and trying to go back to sleep. He tossed and turned for quite some time, his mind unable to shut down enough to allow him to fall asleep again. Finally, with one last despairing thump of the pillow, he got up, intent on finding a drink of water in the hope that it would encourage peaceful sleep to come. As he crossed the room he looked back at the corner alcove almost out of habit. The bed was empty. Pythagoras froze, heart plummeting as his mind took in what his eyes were seeing. With a strangled cry he turned and burst into Hercules' room, grabbing the big man by the shoulders and trying to shake him awake.
"Hercules!" he all but shouted, slapping his big friend across the face. "Wake up!"
The big man awoke, muttering curses about disrespectful mathematician's who should know better than to wake him up in the middle of the night.
"It's Jason," Pythagoras panicked, wringing his hands together pitifully. "He's gone... and so is his sword."