Author's Note: This story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by RenPics or Universal relating to Hercules: The Legendary Journeys.
“Here, let me give you a hand with that,” Hercules offered, approaching the elderly woman hovering next to her overturned cart. With a mighty heave, the demigod lifted the vehicle and set it upright in the middle of the road, where the ground was firmer.
“Thank you,” the woman said gratefully as she watched Hercules and Iolaus gather her fallen grain sacks and stack them neatly back into the cart.
“No problem,” the hunter assured her, favoring her with one of his bright smiles as he tossed the last sack in.
“I’d gladly repay you,” she began. “But I’m afraid I won’t have anything until I sell this grain.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Hercules assured her. “But we would appreciate it if you could tell us how far it is to Eretria.” The woman happily provided them with directions, and after pausing for a moment to make sure that she would be able to handle the heavy cart, the two warriors continued on their way.
“We should be able to make it to the castle well before dark,” Hercules remarked, glancing up at the afternoon sun.
“Herc, I still can’t believe that we’ve been reduced to this.”
“Don’t start, Iolaus.”
“How did we go from battling gods and monsters to becoming bodyguards for a rich woman’s trinkets?”
“Because she asked for my help.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Iolaus accused.
“You’re right,” the demigod admitted. Hercules had been contacted by King Aepytus, who was planning a series of peace talks for the rulers of all his neighboring kingdoms. It was to be an elaborate, week long affair, culminating in a goodwill festival in Eretria. The king was worried, however, after getting word of rumblings on the street concerning a certain queen who was to be among his guests and a certain necklace that she wore. Normally, he would have tightened his security and continued on, but among the rumblings that came to his ears were certain mentions of a certain god of war. Realizing that any trouble could permanently mar the fate of the peace talks, King Aepytus, at the urging of the endangered queen, had asked Hercules to attend, disguising himself as a palace guard to try and foil any capers before they began. The demigod had immediately agreed, but as Iolaus suspected, his interest ran deeper than merely protecting a “rich woman’s trinket”.
“This necklace that Queen Merope wears is undoubtedly priceless,” Hercules began. “But I have a feeling that its value goes beyond the price of the gems.”
“What do you mean?” Iolaus asked, swinging his sword in lazy circles as they walked.
“It all started a long time ago,” the demigod explained. “Legend has it that there were three sisters who were completely devoted to Athena. She wanted to reward them for their faithful service, and she had Hephaestus craft a gift for each of them, which he did. One received a ring, one a necklace, and one a tiara. Of course, the three sisters were delighted with their reward.”
“There’s got to be a ‘but’ in this fairy tale somewhere,” Iolaus declared.
“The ‘but’ is Ares.”
“Yeah, in more ways than one,” the hunter snickered. “So, what did he do this time?”
“Apparently, he was fighting with Athena over something....”
“What else is new?”
“Can I continue, please?”
“Sorry,” Iolaus told him, looking penitent.
“So, Ares and Athena were fighting over some petty...”
“I just thought he would have mellowed a little after all these years.”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” Hercules asked exasperatedly.
“Ok, I’m done,” the hunter grinned. He made a wide, sweeping motion with his sword. “Please, Bard Hercules, I beg of you to go on.” The demigod shook his head and waited a moment to assure himself that his partner was finished with his teasing before he continued.
“Anyway, as I was saying, Ares wanted to get back at Athena, so he put a curse on the gifts that she gave the sisters. He had Strife work on them, and soon they were overcome with feelings of jealousy and anger toward each other. They began to fight, and eventually one of the girls killed her two sisters and took their gifts. Apart, the items were ordinary adornments. But when the girl put on all three of the gifts, she was given possession of a power that equaled that of the gods. Ares tried to lure her to him, wanting to turn one of Athena’s favorites into a warrior loyal to him. For awhile it worked, but the poor girl finally came to her senses and was overcome with grief when she realized what she had done. Athena took pity on her, and sent her to the underworld where she could be reunited with her sisters in the Elysian Fields. Zeus took the three gifts and hid them away, separately, because that kind of power in the wrong hands could be devastating.”
“And you think this necklace that Queen Merope has is the same one from the legend?”
“I don’t know,” Hercules replied thoughtfully. “I can’t be sure of that, which is why I didn’t initially tell you about it. The legend isn’t very well known, so if someone is out to steal the necklace, it very well could be simply because it is a valuable piece of jewelry. But I just have a feeling that there’s more to it than that.”
“One of those half-god, divine type feelings?”
“Something like that,” the demigod said with a small smile. “But I think its more of a common sense type feeling. With all the royalty going to be in Eretria, there’s bound to be a fortune in jewels and treasure. Why would there be such an interest in this one particular necklace, unless there was something special about it.”
“Makes sense,” Iolaus agreed. “Do you think the king and queen know that they could be in possession of a cursed necklace?”
“Yes, I do,” Hercules affirmed. “And that’s why they were so quick to ask us for help. They know what they’ve got, and they also know the danger that goes with it.”
“If they know that someone’s after them, why don’t they just leave the thing locked up at home instead of prancing it around Eretria like an open invitation?”
“Who knows,” Hercules sighed. “I’d like to think its because they refuse to be intimidated and believe in good triumphing over evil, but it’s probably much less honorable than that. More likely, they want to flaunt their treasure in front of their royal neighbors. But, despite their reasons, we promised to keep them and the necklace safe.”
“Yeah, but why do we have to disguise ourselves as guards? You are Hercules, after all. Guard uniform or not, I think people may tend to recognize you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the demigod answered. “We’ll blend in better if we look the part. The less attention we call to ourselves, the better chance we’ll have of getting the jump on any opponent.”
“What if the opponent turns out to be Autolycus?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him to try something like this, but somehow I don’t think its going to be that easy. Call it one of those half-god, divine type feelings.”
“So, if you’re right about this and it is the same necklace, do you think that the other two pieces have been found as well?”
“About two years ago, I remember hearing a story about another queen having a tiara stolen from her. It was the only thing taken from the entire castle, and it sounded like it could have been one of the pieces. I think the ring is still missing, but I’m not sure.”
“Then the same person that stole the tiara could be after the necklace now.”
“Probably. The two together are useless without the ring, but I’d still prefer not to risk it. Look, there’s the castle up ahead. Come on, I’ll race you.”
“Cheer up, Iolaus,” the demigod said consolingly. “It’s only a week, and we’re spending it in luxury.”
“Yeah, but pulling guard duty,” the hunter grumbled. “I just don’t see why we couldn’t have disguised ourselves as nobility. It’s not like we don’t have experience in pretending to be royalty.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Hercules remarked absently. “We don’t even have to share quarters with the other guards. King Aepytus is giving us private rooms on the floor with the other guests. Not to mention all the food that we can eat. The poor man didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he made that offer to you and your unending appetite.”
Iolaus’ withering reply was cut short as Idas, the captain of the guards, entered with their uniforms, causing the hunter’s jaw to drop to the ground.
“I am NOT wearing this,” he declared vehemently, tossing the offending garments away from him.
“Iolaus,” the demigod began, but could think of no convincing arguments as he was having trouble coming to grips with the uniform himself.
“Hercules,” the hunter protested. “It’s a dress!”
“Actually, they really are more like pants,” Hercules reasoned, examining the garments closely. “And there’s really nothing feminine about this uniform.”
“Herc, its a DRESS. And all the leather and studs in the world aren’t going to cover up that fact.”
In the end, after much cajoling, Iolaus donned the uniform with many oaths and threats of revenge on his partner for getting him into the predicament. He whacked at the leather pleating strips that hung to his knees with obvious hatred and tried to tug his unfamiliar, ill fitting tunic into place. The hunter glared at Hercules, who, with his sculpted physique, looked even more handsome and imposing in the uniform. Iolaus, by contrast, felt utterly humiliated.
“If this necklace does turn out to be just a rich woman’s trinket,” the hunter growled. “I will NEVER forgive you.”
“Come on,” Hercules commanded, yanking his partner along behind him. “The royals are arriving.”
One by one, stately carriages were rolling up to the castle gates, and kings and queens in all their finery were being presented with much pomp and circumstance. Iolaus largely ignored the proceedings, preoccupied with his wardrobe woes, until Hercules elbowed him sharply in the ribs and nodded at the approaching couple.
“King Cresphontes and Queen Merope from Messenia,” the royal announcer called in a loud voice. The pair walked stately down the carpeted hall and greet King Aepytus grandly. King Cresphontes was a stout, balding man with a worldly air. Queen Merope was much younger than her husband, and Iolaus was immediately entranced by her. As she briefly met his unwavering gaze, the hunter felt a spark pass between them. His eyes followed her as she moved on to take her place in the large banquet hall, and he didn’t even notice the ornate necklace that hung around her throat.
Iolaus kept close to the queen throughout the evening, as was his duty, but he seemed more interested in watching her than watching for signs of trouble. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Hercules.
“What are you doing?” Hercules hissed in his friend’s ear.
“What do you mean?” the hunter asked, a note of guilt in his voice.
“Keep your mind on your job and stop making goo goo eyes at her,” the demigod advised him sternly.
“You’re right,” Iolaus sighed, and as the feast and the speeches continued, he made a conscious effort to scan the hall and concentrate on his mission. Finally, the welcoming party was over, and all of the guests began mingling informally throughout the great hall. The hunter kept one eye on the queen, and as the night wore on and the crowd began to disperse, he finally found himself face to face with her.
“You’ve been watching me rather closely tonight, haven’t you?” Merope said softly, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“I’ve been assigned to keep you safe, my queen,” Iolaus replied dutifully, feeling lost in her sparkling eyes.
“Then I’m sure that I, and my jewels, are in good hands,” she stated. The queen turned to go, but turned back around to give her bodyguard an appraising glance. “Nice legs,” she grinned, before moving to rejoin King Cresphontes. Iolaus turned a shade of scarlet as he quickly retreated to a far corner of the hall, cursing the hated uniform with every step.
Hercules knocked on the door to his friend’s room, then pushed it open impatiently and let himself in.
“Iolaus, are you almost...” The demigod forgot to finish his sentence as he took in the hunter’s appearance. “What in the name of Zeus are you doing?”
“Getting dressed,” Iolaus replied acrimoniously while his partner continued to stare at him. The hunter was wearing soft, black pants, a gleaming pair of new black boots, and a blue silk shirt that was covered with fine embroidery. His wild mass of curls had been combed back and tamed into a dignified coif.
“Where did you get those clothes?” Hercules was on the verge of laughter, but found that the urge was quickly quenched as his old friend turned to give him a withering stare that would have silenced the most noble of nobility.
“I borrowed them,” Iolaus explained. “I refuse to wear that stupid dress again.” Hercules shot a sudden, self conscious glance down to the uniform he was wearing. “I mean, how can I protect the queen’s jewels if I’m otherwise preoccupied with protecting my dignity? Besides, King Orestes was my cousin, right? That sort of makes me royalty, too, doesn’t it? At least, it gives me the right to disguise myself as royalty, as long as we’re playing dress up.”
“So, this isn’t about looking good for a certain queen that you can‘t seem to take your eyes off of?”
“Oh, come on, Herc. Ok, maybe I am trying to impress her a little bit, but I haven’t forgotten why we’re here.”
“Iolaus, you know that if you start acting like a goofball in love, you’re going to ruin everything.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin anything. Come on, we’re late.”
Hercules followed his friend down to the banquet hall, where most of the guests were already assembled. Iolaus could feel Queen Merope’s eyes on him as he entered the room, but he did not look her way as he took his place at the table.
After the morning meal, the kings all gathered into Aepytus’ stateroom to begin the talks. Some of the queens accompanied their husbands, but Merope chose to bid farewell to Cresphontes and go out into the garden. Iolaus and Hercules followed her, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The queen wandered around the grounds for awhile, before pausing to rest on a stone bench that overlooked a great fountain. As she looked around, enjoying the warm sun and the fragrance of the flowers, she caught Iolaus’ eye and gave him a small wink. Taking it as an invitation, the hunter moved forward and stood beside the bench, pretending to take an active interest in the pink roses that were happily growing there.
“So,” the queen drawled, looking him over carefully. “Yesterday a guard, and today a prince. You do know how to scale the social ladder quickly, don’t you?”
“Tell me, my queen,” the hunter began, fire burning in his blue eyes. “Do you like what you see?”
“You make a very handsome prince,” she answered coyly. “But I’ve learned long ago that clothes don’t make the man.” The queen rose gracefully, and with a backwards glance that revealed a teasing grin, she continued on her stroll through the garden. Iolaus smiled to himself and followed her, taking care to keep his distance.
That night, after dinner, everyone gathered together in one of the larger rooms of the castle. Aepytus had hired a troupe of performers for the evening, and they all took delight as the actors, bards, minstrels, and jesters entertained them. Hercules and Iolaus were less focused on the performance, choosing instead to keep a watchful eye out for any signs of trouble. With the threat of the necklace thief still hanging above their heads, they were both wary of any strangers having access to the castle.
“What do you think Ares’ part is in all of this?” Iolaus whispered to his friend as the merriment wore on. “You think he wants the necklace back so he can corrupt someone else?”
“I don’t think so,” Hercules whispered back. “If that’s all he was after, he wouldn’t go to all this trouble. Personally, I think he just wants to put an end to the peace talks. He has a lot to lose if all of these kingdoms sign a treaty to end war.”
Finally, the troupe finished their act, to thunderous applause. The evening had passed incident free, but Aepytus had promised the performers accommodations at the castle for the night, a fact which made Hercules rather nervous.
“I think we should keep watch tonight,” he whispered to the hunter. “Make sure none of them try anything.”
“Sure,” Iolaus replied absently, his eyes following Merope as she went out to stand on the terrace. Quickly excusing himself, he followed her out into the dark night.
“My faithful shadow,” the queen said softly, not bothering to turn around as she heard someone approaching.
“I’m just doing my duty, my queen,” Iolaus told her, joining her at the railing, looking out over the kingdom. She turned to him then, and they stared at each other wordlessly for several long moments, a silent communication passing through their eyes.
“Tell me,” the hunter whispered, reaching up a hand to touch the glittering necklace at her throat. “Do you wear your jewels to bed, my queen?”
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly as his hand moved to stroke her cheek before brushing a strand of raven hair back from her face. “And nothing else.” Deliberately she took a step back with a wicked grin, then left the terrace to accompany Cresphontes upstairs to their quarters. Iolaus let out a small sigh of frustration. She was definitely enjoying tormenting him, but the hunter was confident that he knew just how to turn the tables.
Iolaus and Hercules took turns keeping watch that night, even though the guard captain Idas didn’t feel it was necessary. He turned out to be correct, as the morning saw the performers take their leave of the castle without so much as a hint of trouble. The hunter yawned loudly as he donned his familiar leather pants and his favorite purple vest. Lacing up his gauntlets, he looked in surprise at his partner, who was still wearing the guard uniform.
“Herc, no one is fooled by that anymore.”
“I know, but...”
“Hercules, everyone here knows it’s you. If they didn’t before, then all the performers last night certainly clued them in with all their tributes to the legendary adventures of their special guest, Hercules. You stood up and waved, for Zeus’ sake. Unless.... you actually LIKE wearing a dress. Anything you’re not telling me, Herc?”
“Don’t be stupid,” the demigod growled, taking off the uniform and folding it neatly. He caught his pants, which Iolaus had thrown to him, and began to tug them on, blocking out his partner’s taunting voice as he sang an impromptu ditty about the son of Zeus and his affinity for dresses. It wasn’t that Hercules LIKED wearing the uniform, but taking it off was admitting defeat. His mission was to disguise himself as a palace guard, and he had failed. The demigod hated to admit failure, even for something as trivial as this. But, his pride was his downfall, as now he knew he would be subjected to “dress” jokes from his partner, probably for the rest of his life.
“And who are we today?” Merope asked with a raised eyebrow as she took in the hunter’s new wardrobe.
“Just Iolaus,” he answered briefly. He took his place near the queen, but showed zero interest in her as he scanned the room carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her staring at him, and he secretly smiled inside as realized his plan was working. For the rest of the day, Iolaus followed the queen and kept watch, but kept himself aloof, even when she tried to speak to him. It wasn’t hard to see that his disinterest was driving her crazy. The hunter thought he would get a reaction from his new attitude, but the magnitude of that reaction was still a surprise.
A soft knock sounded on his door, and Iolaus quickly opened it, thinking it was Hercules. To his amazement, the queen was there and quickly entered, shutting the door behind her.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked softly. It was late, and the rest of the castle was deep in slumber.
“No,” he said truthfully. “I couldn’t sleep so I was sitting by the window. Something about a full moon.”
“I know what you mean,” Merope began in a sultry voice. “I fell in love with my husband under a full moon.”
“What a coincidence,” Iolaus replied in a strange tone. “I fell in love with my wife under a full moon.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment, remembering when he’d had to deny his love for his beautiful healer on a summer night in the garden, and also the night when he’d gotten his second chance with her.
“Imagine that,” Merope murmured, pressing herself up against Iolaus as she moved closer.
“And just what would your husband say if he knew you were here?” the hunter demanded with a teasing grin.
“Oh, I don’t think he’d mind any more than your wife would,” she answered, leaning up to kiss him. As their lips met, Iolaus lost the restraint he’d been hanging on to, and took her in his strong arms.
“We have to be careful,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured, pulling on his hand and leading him over to his bed. “It will be our little secret.”
“I don’t believe you,” Hercules muttered as Iolaus joined him in the morning.
“What do you mean?” The hunter wore a perfect mask of innocence, but the demigod knew the gleam in his friend’s azure eyes all too well.
“After all these years we’ve spent together, don’t think you can hide anything from me.”
“Herc, look...”
“I don’t want an explanation,” the demigod said, holding up his hand. “But I’d think at your age you’d be able to keep it zipped up for a week.”
“Hey, I’m a healthy, red blooded, Grecian man. What do you expect?”
“I expect you to concentrate on why we’re here, and concentrate on not blowing our cover.”
“Herc, you worry too much.”
“Iolaus,” the demigod began patiently. “You‘re an adult, and you don‘t need me to lecture you. But I’m just worried that if our plan is found out, someone is going to get hurt.”
“You’re right,” the hunter sighed. “Ok, I’ll be good.”
Hercules clapped his partner on the shoulder and walked away, missing the conspiratory smile that passed between the hunter and the queen.
“So, you’re talking to me today?” Merope asked airily as Iolaus approached her later that day.
“My ignoring you yesterday really got to you, didn’t it?” the hunter grinned.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” the queen answered haughtily, although there was a merry twinkle in her eyes.
That night after dinner, there was no scheduled entertainment, but the crowd was relaxed and happy as they sipped drinks and mingled in the great hall. Hercules and Iolaus wandered through the milling guests, socializing freely but never quite taking their attentions from the surroundings. Although they appeared just as casual as the rest of the guests, inside the seasoned warriors were both tensed to spring to action at any sign of trouble. But as the night wore on, the only trouble they found came in the form of a rather tipsy queen of Euboea. The woman was delighted to meet Greece’s finest heroes, and firmly latched onto the pair, demanding to hear about all of their adventures and asking them question after question. Hercules diplomatically tried to excuse himself, but the queen was clinging tightly to his arm.
“It must be so terribly exciting to travel through Greece,” she gushed for the fourth time. “Seeing new places and meeting new people.” Some of her exuberance began to fade as the alcohol worked its way through and a melancholy air fell over her. “But it must get so lonely,” she whispered sadly. “Don’t you boys miss home? Even now, don’t you miss your families? Iolaus, don’t you miss your wife?”
The hunter had been preoccupied with watching Merope, but he was jolted back to the conversation as he heard his name.
“You know, its a funny thing,” he said, reaching out a hand to steady the inebriated queen. “I find I’m really not missing her much at all.” Ignoring the glare that Hercules shot him, Iolaus glanced quickly at Merope and gave her a tiny smile. Fortunately for the heroes, the king of Euboea came to rescue them and took charge of his wife, escorting her upstairs to their room.
Late that night, Iolaus contentedly stroked the raven hair of the queen as she lay in his arms, his fingers gently sliding through the softness.
“Tell me, my queen,” he whispered. “When this week is over, will you leave all of this behind you and run away with me?”
“That depends,” she murmured. “Which Iolaus is asking me?”
“Whichever one you’ll have,” the hunter answered teasingly.
“I did like Prince Iolaus,” the girl said thoughtfully. “Guard Iolaus was a bit too much, I think.”
“The uniform.” He made his conclusion with an expression of obvious distaste.
“The uniform wasn’t the problem,” she told him, running a finger suggestively down his smooth chest. “After all, the uniform comes off. No, I think I like you best the way you are now. My brave, warrior Iolaus.”
The hunter grinned and leaned in to kiss the girl beside him, passion once again rising as she eagerly responded to his advances.
Iolaus tried to stifle a yawn as he gazed around the large conference room. Merope had decided to accompany King Cresphontes into the peace talks, so Hercules and Iolaus had also been obligated to attend. It was to be the last day of the negotiations, so the session was running much longer than it had on the previous days as the final details were being ironed out. The hunter had never taken an active interest in politics, and this nit picking of treaty wording and boundary lines was boring him silly. Between that, and his lack of sleep from the night before, the yawns were threatening to claim him. But, not wanting to give Hercules the satisfaction of being able to shoot him those little disapproving looks, Iolaus did his best to choke back the yawns and appear interested in the proceedings. At long last, the few remaining points of the negotiations were settled and the peace talks were officially ended among a flurry of handshakes.
“Finally.” Iolaus breathed a sigh of relief and stretched broadly, taking in the small frown on his partner’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just wondering when our thief is planning to strike,” the demigod mused.
“We’ve been here a week and nothing’s happened. Maybe you were wrong about this one. For once.”
“Maybe, but there’s still the festival tomorrow. It would be easy for a thief to attack in the confusion and get lost in the crowds. I guess I don’t have to ask you to keep a close eye on her.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Herc,” Iolaus assured him, catching Merope’s eye and exchanging a small smile with her. “I’m not about to let anything happen to my queen.”
The festival being planned for the following day was to be a big event for Eretria and for all the people in the surrounding kingdoms. But that night, King Aepytus held a formal celebration in the castle for his royal guests.
“Here’s to a long, but fruitful week,” he boomed, raising his wine glass high. “And here’s to everyone putting their differences aside to do what’s best for their kingdoms.” Everyone supported the king’s toast with loud cheers, and even Hercules began to get into the celebration. His primary mission had almost caused him to overlook what had been going on around him, but that night he realized the magnitude of what the kings had accomplished. Nine provinces, allied and dedicated to keeping peace in the land. It was truly a wonderful thing.
The party wore on, and as evening began to turn into night, Iolaus and Merope began shooting worried looks at each other. Their scheduled rendezvous was being prolonged by the revelers, and was in danger of being canceled. But, one by one the guests began to trickle off to their quarters, until only a handful of people remained milling about the great hall. After a quick word with Merope, Iolaus took off running for his room and perched by his window, sharp eyes scanning the grounds below him. He waited with more patience than anyone who really knew him would have thought he possessed, until he finally was rewarded with the sight of a shadowy figure slipping into the garden. Quickly, Iolaus bolted from his room and began creeping down the long hallway. His mind focused on one thing, the hunter was blissfully unaware of his surroundings. Unfortunate, for it meant he never saw the figure approaching him from behind, until the hard hilt of a sword against his head sent him crashing down into oblivion.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the girl said softly as she heard footsteps on the path behind her. She had been inhaling the heady scent of the roses in the garden, but at the approaching sound she straightened and turned.
“You shouldn’t be out alone so late, your highness,” the figure before her cautioned in a rather ominous voice, secretly enjoying seeing her startle.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else,” she stammered.
“I know who you were waiting for,” Idas told her. “And I can assure you that your little playmate isn’t coming. So why don’t you be a good little queen, hand over the necklace, and then maybe I won’t have to hurt you.”
Hercules paced around his room restlessly. The castle was quiet, but he still felt like something was wrong. One of those half god, divine type feelings. He opened his door and crept out into the hallway, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Pausing outside of Iolaus’ door, the demigod debated for a long time whether or not he should knock. He realized that there was a good chance that his partner was not alone in there, and wouldn’t be in the mood to listen to paranoid suspicions. But the longer he stood there, the more strongly Hercules felt in his gut that something was wrong. Finally, he gave in and rapped his knuckles against the wood. Getting no response, the demigod repeated the action a few more times before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. The room was empty, and he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried.
Quickly, he moved up the corridor to the quarters of King Cresphontes. Knocking provided him with no response, so the demigod pushed the door open and stepped inside the darkened room, immediately wishing that he hadn’t.
“Hercules?” the king bellowed when he had identified the stranger in his chambers. “What in Tartarus are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” the demigod said quickly, turning around to face the wall as Queen Merope’s private attendant desperately tried to cover her nakedness. “I was just looking for Iolaus.”
“Well he’s certainly not in here,” Cresphontes thundered.
Hercules stammered another apology and quickly fled the room, shutting the door behind him as he blushed furiously. Back out in the corridor, he took a deep breath to calm himself, leaning up against the wall as he ran a hand through his chestnut hair.
“Iolaus, where are you?” he muttered under his breath. Hercules started to move back down the hall, but a slight scratching noise caught his attention. It was very faint, and at first he wasn’t sure if he actually had heard the noise. But, straining his ears, he caught the sound again. The demigod at first was inclined to attribute the noise to rodents in the castle walls, but his instincts were screaming at him so he listened again, finally deciding that the sound was too deliberate and precise to be the scratchings of rats. It was more like a signal. Pressing his ear against the wall, Hercules carefully followed the sound, until he found the exact spot where it was coming from. It took him a few minutes in the gloom, but he finally identified a miniscule indentation in the wall, outlining a hidden door. Several more minutes of intense scrutiny located a trigger switch under a section of loose carpeting. Hercules hit the switch, and with a soft click the door slid open and Iolaus fell out into his arms.
“Iolaus,” the demigod exclaimed, turning his partner over. “Are you all right? Can you hear me?”
“Herc,” the hunter groaned, trying to will away the dizziness that was making the world swim before his eyes.
“You’ll be ok,” Hercules reassured him, noticing that his friend’s golden curls were wet and matted with blood.
“Herc, you have to go,” Iolaus managed to get out.
“This is a deep cut,” the demigod told him, examining the wound. “We have to take care of it and stop the bleeding.”
“No,” the hunter protested. “I’m ok. You have to go. Garden. Now. Help her.”
Hercules hesitated a moment, torn between his injured friend and the sudden realization that whoever had done this to him was now after the necklace.
“Go,” Iolaus repeated, shoving weakly at the demigod’s bicep.
“I’ll be right back for you,” Hercules vowed, laying the hunter as gently as he could down on the carpeted floor. He began to sprint toward the spiraled staircase, leaping down the steps as a scream echoed through the castle grounds.
It was her only defense. A loud, shrill, blood curdling scream that would wake the entire castle. True, such an act might get her killed, but at least it would alert everyone so that the thief would have a better chance at being apprehended.
“Why did you do that?” Idas hissed, grabbing her by the arm. “Give me that necklace now, or I’ll give you something to scream about.” He pulled out a knife and pressed it against her throat.
“Okay,” she said fearfully. The girl reached behind her neck to undo the clasp. When she felt her attacker relax the hand that held the knife, she quickly brought her knee up and caught him hard in the groin. Idas cried out, dropping the knife and bending over in pain. Pulling back her arm, she balled her fist and punched him hard in the jaw. Without waiting to see him hit the ground, she turned and started to run, but immediately collided with something solid.
“Idas, you are pathetic,” Ares sneered as he embraced the struggling girl. “Captain of the guards, and you can’t even handle one defenseless woman.” The god inclined his head to leer at the queen, but instead a look of surprise came over his features. “You?” he questioned. The girl took advantage of his momentary shock to kick him hard in the shins and to wrench herself free of his grasp. She began running back to the castle for all she was worth, expecting a bright bolt of energy to mow her down with every step she took.
She was oblivious to everything around her. Everything but the lights of the castle, where she would be safe. Pushing herself, she ran faster and faster, flying over the path until a stray root caught her foot and she stumbled. Strong arms caught her before she hit the ground, and the girl found herself staring up into the welcome face of Hercules.
“Are you all right?”
Too out of breath to speak, she merely nodded. The demigod shoved her behind him, toward the castle doors where people were beginning to assemble, roused by the commotion., before he began striding purposefully into the darkness of the garden. Hercules followed the path, all his senses on alert. Without even slowing his pace, he moved up beside a large shrub and thrust his hand inside, pulling out the figure hiding within.
“Trying to assassinate a queen,” Hercules said coldly, dangling the man off the ground by his tunic. “You can be hanged for that, Idas.”
“I wasn’t going to kill her,” the terrified guard protested. “I just wanted the necklace.”
“For whom?” The demigod interrogated. “I know you didn’t plan this yourself. Who sent you after the necklace? Who are you working for?”
“All right, I’ll tell you,” Idas promised. “Just put me down, ok?” Hercules released the guard, who fell heavily upon the ground.
“Okay,” he said sternly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I’m listening.”
But before Idas could respond, a light enveloped him, frying the poor man before he ever knew what hit him. Hercules stared down at the smoking corpse for a moment, scarcely believing that what he’d seen had really happened. Finally he came to his senses.
“Ares,” he accused in an angry shout.
“Sorry to ruin your fun, little brother, but I don’t want to take all the mystery out of life. Some secrets are best kept hidden, don’t you think?”
“And what do you get out of all this?” Hercules demanded furiously.
“It would appear, nothing,” Ares told him. “I had hoped that this sad excuse for a warrior would be able to act in time to break up the peace talks, but that’s all right. Let them sign their treaties. It won’t last for long. War is in the heart of every man, whether they admit it or not. Sooner or later, one of these kingdoms will cross another, and a few words on a parchment aren’t going to prevent the inevitable from happening.”
“Don’t count on that,” the demigod warned. “But what about the necklace?”
“Why would I have any interest in that?” The god of war sounded bored. “I was just hoping to use a little mortal greed to my advantage to get me what I really wanted. I could care less about that stupid bauble. But I’ll give you a warning, and this one is on the house, that a lot of mortals would go a long way to get their hands on it.”
“Don’t do me any favors, Ares,” Hercules said disdainfully.
“Well, since my work here appears to be done, I’ll be leaving. And here’s a little something to remember me by.” The demigod just barely managed to dive out of the way in time to avoid the fireball that Ares casually tossed over his shoulder. Picking himself up from the ground, Hercules dusted off his pants, feeling that things were far from over with this necklace. It was a half god, divine type feeling.
“Ouch! Herc, would you be careful?”
“Maybe I could if you would sit still and stop squirming.”
“Why don’t we shove a needle through your head and see how still you sit?” the hunter muttered, but he sat up and tried not to flinch as Hercules carefully tried to stitch the gash on his scalp.
“Well, if a certain someone hadn’t decked a guy that had a harder head than you do, I wouldn’t have to do this.” Hercules looked over at the healer, who was sitting with a cold, wet towel wrapped around her swollen hand.
“Hey!” Iolaus protested, as it finally sunk in that his partner had been insulting him.
There was a soft knock at the door, and King Aepytus stuck his head in the room.
“Are you three all right?” he asked. Hercules assured him that they were as he placed the last stitch and cut the thread with a small knife. Aepytus entered the room, followed by Cresphontes and a few others.
“All right except for a hole in the head,” Iolaus grumbled, reaching up a hand to feel the row of stitches that had closed the wound. Hercules slapped his hand away and dabbed a salve on the gash to prevent any infection. He tried to bandage the injury, but Iolaus ducked away from him, refusing to have his head wrapped up.
“You both acted very bravely,” the king began. “I can’t even begin to thank you for all your help. And as for you, my dear,” Aepytus said with a twinkle in his eye as he turned to Elissa. “If you ever decide you don’t want to continue on as a healer, you may want to give acting a try. That was a wonderful performance.”
“I was just having fun,” Elissa blushed as she undid the clasp to the glittering jewels at her throat. Removing the necklace, she rose and approached the woman who had served as her attendant for the past week. “I think its safe to return this to you now, Queen Merope.”
“Elissa, thank you,” the queen said sincerely as the king fastened the gems around her neck. “It took a lot of courage for you to agree to this plan. You have our sincere thanks, and anything you or your husband ever need or want is yours at the asking.”
“That’s really not necessary,” the healer began, but the queen waved away her humbleness with a flick of her hand.
“Well, I think we should clear out and let these three get some well earned rest,” Aepytus commanded. “It’s late, and we all need some sleep before the festival tomorrow.” At the king’s request, everyone exchanged their good nights and filed out of the room.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Hercules asked his friend.
“I’ll be fine,” Iolaus said tiredly. “Thanks for the patch up, Herc.”
“Any time, buddy.” The demigod clapped his friend on the shoulder and headed for the door, giving Elissa a kiss on the way out.
“How’s your hand?” Iolaus asked his wife.
“It’s ok,” she replied, picking up the bandages that Hercules had discarded. “Just remind me never to do that again.”
“I wish I could have been there to see that,” the hunter told her, allowing her to wind the bandages around his head. “And I can’t believe you kicked Ares.” He giggled at the thought.
“Well, at the time it seemed like the thing to do,” Elissa declared. “But it might not be a bad idea never to do that again, either.” She tied off the ends of the bandage and Iolaus wearily turned to climb into bed. The healer was well aware that Ares could have killed her, but she was reluctant to voice that thought to the hunter. He worried enough about her as it was.
“I like you with dark hair,” Iolaus said softly as he watched her taking the pins from her hair, letting it fall down loosely around her shoulders.
“That’s a good thing, because you’re stuck with it until the dye wears off.” Elissa wriggled out of the stately gown she had been wearing and slipped a silk sleeping gown over her head before turning to her husband. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Yes,” he answered. Iolaus normally went to great lengths to hide his suffering from the rest of the world, but he never felt compelled to do so with his beautiful healer. It would have been pointless to lie to her anyway, as she knew his mind as well as she knew her own.
“I’m sure the kitchen downstairs was never meant to double as a healer’s pantry, but I’ll go see if I can find something that will help.”
“No, don’t go,” the hunter said. “Just come lie down with me.”
The healer crawled onto the large bed next to her husband and eased his head into her lap. Gently, she began tracing small circles with her fingers across his temples, soothing him with her touch. His body relaxed and his breathing grew slow and soft, and she thought he had drifted off until she heard his sleepy voice.
“Lis?”
“What?”
“You made a great queen.”
“Thank you, Iolaus.” He couldn’t see her face in the darkness, but he knew she was smiling.
“But I really do like your real hair color best.”
“Go to sleep, my brave warrior,” she whispered, a note of amusement in her soft voice. And he did, comforted by her presence and the apparent success of their mission.
Iolaus watched Elissa out of the corner of his eye as he started a fire. They were camping for the night in the woods, on their way back home to Acheron. Aepytus had made them and Hercules his special guests at the goodwill festival, and they all had had a wonderful time and a lot of fun. The king invited them to stay for as long as they liked, but the day after the festival Hercules decided to accompany Cresphontes and Merope back to Messenia, just to ensure that they, and the necklace, would be safe until they were back in the protection of their own castle. Iolaus and Elissa also decided to take their leave of their generous host, and set off for home.
“What do you keep looking at me like that for?” the healer demanded, catching her husband staring at her.
“I was just thinking that you made a wonderful queen,” he told her quietly.
“You said that the other night, but I just thought you were delirious from that blow to the head.” Elissa was joking, but the hunter was serious.
“You did make a wonderful queen,” Iolaus insisted. “And I guess part of me is just mourning the fact that you have to give it all up.”
“Iolaus, what are you talking about?”
“You deserve to have that life,” the hunter whispered. “You should be living in a castle, with beautiful gowns and priceless jewels and servants to wait on you hand and foot. You should be able to have all that you want, and not stuck out here in the cold, sleeping on the hard ground.”
“What brought all this on?” Elissa asked gently. When Iolaus didn’t answer her, she moved in to sit beside him and took his hand. “Why would I want to be anywhere else? Why would I want to be anywhere in the world except where you are. I don’t want all that luxury, Iolaus. All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is you. We may not have much, but we have each other, and that means more to me than all the wealth in the world. I love you, and if I have you beside me, than I could never ask for more. Now quit worrying about such silly matters, and get down to the stream. If you don’t catch us a fish, then we’ll be sleeping on the cold, hard ground with no dinner.” She gave him a blinding smile that reiterated her words, and rose to finish setting up their camp.
Iolaus remained where he was for a few moments, watching her arrange their meager cooking supplies before she unpacked their bedroll. She was dressed in simple clothing, with no castle walls surrounding her and no title to give her power. The only jewelry she wore was the simple necklace that he had given to her on their wedding day. Yet despite all of this, Elissa still carried herself with the grace and the dignity of a queen. She was as noble and as regal as the best of royalty. Iolaus often carried an ache within his heart that he couldn’t provide her with all of the things that he felt she deserved. He really wasn’t able to provide her with much of anything. All he could do was love her, which rarely seemed to be enough. But on that day, it was.
“You’ll always be a queen to me,” he told her, stopping to kiss her gently before he made his way down to the stream. Tossing his line into the water, the hunter heaved a contented sigh. He was happy, and he made the futile wish that things could stay just the way they were forever. But of course, as Iolaus was soon to find out, change is inevitable.
Disclaimer: Iolaus’ unwavering faithfulness to Elissa was not harmed during the writing of this story. (The author would further like to apologize to the hunter for beaning him on the head, but she stands firm on the decision to dress him in the tradition uniform of the Royal Eretrian Guards.)
The Story So Far Index
Home
The Iolausian Library