This story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by MCA, Universal Studios, or Renaissance Pictures concerning Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. This story is for fun and no money was made from it.
“Tell me a story, Daddy.”
The man smiled at the boy sitting on his lap.
“A story? Which story? I know a lot of stories.”
The boy pursed his lips, in deep thought. At last, he looked up at his father and grinned.
“The one from long ago, Daddy. The one about the hero and his best friend.”
“Oh, the one about Hercules and Iolaus.”
The boy bounced in his father’s lap, excited that he was going to hear one of his favorite stories.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a far-off land called Greece, there were two heroes. One was the son of a mortal woman and the Greek god, Zeus. Zeus was king of the gods. His name was Hercules. He had the strength of 100 men, but a gentle heart. The other was a mortal, born of mortal parents, but with great heart and courage. He had only the strength of a mortal man but fought with skill and cunning of a god. He served most of the gods, in one way or another. He was a warrior, so Ares claimed him. He was a hunter, so Artemis claimed him. He had a quick mind, so Athena claimed him. He was a lover of great renowned, so Aphrodite claimed him. He had the quick wit and sense of humor of a clown, so Hermes claimed him.
He was also the best friend of the son of Zeus. His name was Iolaus. They were bound in the heart and soul. One completed the other; one without the other was only half. This is the story of their journey to Thessala on a summer’s day and how it almost cost them everything.
The road was dusty. It was hot. Iolaus was in a foul mood and Hercules wanted to plug up his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen to him anymore.
“Herc, why are we doing this? I really wanted to go home to Thebes. I’m tired. It’s hot. I want a cold bath and a soft bed.”
“Iolaus, please. It’s just for a day, at most. King Tyrus needs help with his treaty...”
Iolaus interrupted, “Muscle, you mean. He needs your name and your muscle. So why am I going?”
Hercules clapped him on the back.
“We’re a team. I go where you go. You go where I go. We work better together than apart. Choose one of the above.”
“Ha! Ha!” Iolaus snapped back. “One day, Hercules. One day and I’m going home.”
“I promise, Iolaus. One day and we’ll both go home.”
It was near noon when Hercules finally asked the still disgruntled hunter if he was ready to stop for the midday meal.
“About time!” the hunter snapped at his friend. “I’m starving!”
“You’re always starving. Let’s set up under those trees over there. I’ve still got some meat left from breakfast. The innkeeper’s wife gave us extra, plus some bread and cheese. So we can just rest, for once, and eat.”
It had been a quiet meal. Iolaus was far from his normal self and Hercules, wisely, had decided to let it rest for once. After they had eaten, Hercules had fallen into a light sleep and awoke a short time later to find Iolaus gone. Hercules had found him sitting on the bank of a nearby stream, looking out over the water.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Hercules asked as he sat down beside his friend.
Iolaus had started to deny anything was wrong but decided not to. Hercules knew him too well. Iolaus looked at his hands. They were small, compared to Hercules. Yet he and Hercules knew, those hands could be capable of untold fury if ever unleashed. As Iolaus was Hercules’ center, the one who kept him sane and true, Hercules kept Iolaus in check. By example, he kept Iolaus from truly using all the skills he possessed to some ultimate horror both could never live with.
“I’m just tired. I wanted to go home. I guess I’m a little irritated our plans got changed.”
Hercules sighed. “No. There’s something else going on here. I want you to tell me what it is.”
Iolaus shrugged. “Herc, Ania died three years ago tomorrow. I wanted to be home. I know it sounds silly, but I wanted to be with her.”
“Iolaus, I’m sorry. I just didn’t realize. But, what else? You’ve been angry all day. I’ve had the distinct impression you’d really like to hit me, hard. Is that the only reason?”
“Why didn’t you remember, Hercules?” There was no anger in Iolaus’ voice, just hurt. The anger he had felt all day was suddenly replaced with a hurt that raked him painfully. Iolaus still looked out over the water, never turning to look at Hercules. “You have everything I ever wanted. You have a beautiful wife who loves you and you love. You have three children. Three children, Herc. Three wonderful children who think the sun rises and sets in you. I’m happy you have them but sometimes I wonder why I can’t have the same thing.”
Hercules sat, stunned. Iolaus had never voiced these feelings before and Hercules realized they were deep-seeded feelings. How could he have been so blind to what his friend, his soulbrother was feeling?
“We’re going home, Iolaus. Now. Today.”
Iolaus sat quietly. He loved Hercules for his offer, but this was a peace treaty. It was important.
“What about the treaty, Herc? King Tyrus is waiting on you to back him up. You have to go. I can go on to Thebes by myself.”
Hercules wanted to go with Iolaus. There had been a lot of unrest in the area and bandits abounded on the road between where they were and home.
“Its not safe on the road alone, Iolaus. I know you can take care of yourself, but two is safer than one.”
Iolaus stood up, throwing the stick he’d been holding into the stream.
“No, Herc.” That tone. Hercules knew it well. He also knew the discussion was over. “You go on. I’ll go on to Thebes. You can catch me up if you get through early.”
They parted at the Thessala crossroads. After a firm warrior’s handshake, Iolaus had gone east, toward Thebes. Hercules had stood in the lengthening shadows of dusk watching Iolaus disappear down the road. He stood for a long time after the blond was out of sight, wishing he could help. But, more than that, he watched after the warrior with a feeling of unease that was growing steadily stronger.
Iolaus had traveled well past dark and had been lucky enough to find a large tree-fall that afforded him some shelter. He had set up camp by the light of the full moon, finally getting a fire started after fumbling several times with his flint.
“Where are Hercules’ gauntlets when you really need them,” after the third unsuccessful try. Finally, on the fourth try, the fire started. Iolaus relaxed, plopping down against the fallen tree. After a moment, he pulled out the cheese and bread Hercules had given him from lunch. H was thankful now he had taken it. Hercules was right. He would never have foraged successfully in the dark.
The meal was good. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he’d started eating. But, he thought as he picked up his empty water skin, bread and cheese definitely need something to wash it down with. There was a stream nearby. Iolaus could hear the sound of water running over rocks. It was dark, but with the light of the full moon and the campfire, he thought he could find the water.
He picked carefully through the underbrush. Alone, he was vulnerable. If he should turn an ankle or fall down a steep bank, he could be in big trouble very quickly. For once, he missed Hercules’ “Mother hen” attitude toward him. He could really use the attention now. While being alone didn’t really bother him, being alone in the dark did. The dark harbored enemies, ones you could see and others who dwelled inside your head. Iolaus had a vivid imagination and the enemies inside his head were making themselves well known.
“Iolaus, snap out of it. It’s only one night. You’ll be home tomorrow. Hercules will probably meet you on the road.” Iolaus shook his head, kneeling to fill his waterskin. He splashed water on his face and neck, realizing suddenly that he felt hot.
He hadn’t felt very good all day. That was one reason he had been so short with Hercules. He had wanted so badly to be home tomorrow. He had planned to take flowers to Ania’s grave and sit with her for awhile, just to be near her.
Iolaus smiled to himself. Ania hadn’t been the type of woman he was usually attracted to. Most of his other female conquests had been strong, lusty women who could match him in ability and even strength. For the longest time, that was the way he wanted it. Just a good time, no strings, no commitment. Then Ania had come into his life. She had been sweet, quiet, and gentle. She had no special skills or talents.
Yet, in a very short time, had wrapped his heart around her little finger.
He had loved her with a totality reserved for only one other person in his life - Hercules. He rarely committed himself to love, for in his life, love had only been a sought-after phantom. The only other person he had ever trusted enough to pledge is heart to was Hercules.
Iolaus was thankful for the short time they had had. He didn’t doubt he’d love again, but Ania was the only wife he would ever have. Even in death, she still held his heart.
Hercules awoke the next morning in a big, soft bed. He had traveled at a steady, ground-eating run all night to get to the castle. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to Iolaus. The unease he had felt when they parted ways at the crossroads was still with him, growing stronger. He knew something was not right.
Now, as the treaty meeting wound down, King Tyrus seemed quite pleased, both with how the meeting had gone and with the impression Hercules had made on all involved. Perhaps this treaty would hold for a while, giving the peace Tyrus longer for a chance. Tyrus had hoped Hercules would stay for the celebration the next day, but Hercules had been anxious to be on his way. So now, Hercules stood in the king’s courtroom, biding this good ruler a much wanted farewell..
“I would like to stay, King Tyrus, but Iolaus is expecting me to meet him on the road to Thebes. It’s important we get home today.”
The king extended his hand and exchanged a parting handshake with the demigod. He knew well the strength of the friendship between Hercules and Iolaus and knew there was no changing Hercules’ mind.
“Be well, Hercules. Thank you for all your help. It made the difference. Give Iolaus my greetings and tell him the next time, I expect the pleasure of his company, as well.”
Hercules grinned. Iolaus would love to hear how much the king had missed his presence at the meeting.
“I will,” Hercules answered, already heading for the door.
Iolaus had awoken lying on the hard ground, a thin blanket his only mattress. He had spent a restless night, dreaming of monsters and Hades and Ania calling to him. Now, as he sat before the small fire he had built, he held his throbbing head in his hands. There had to be an Amazon warrior in there with the sharpest spear she could find, jabbing at his skull, trying to get out. It was well past noon, the day warm. But Iolaus huddled closer to the fire, unable to rid himself of the chill he had been feeling all morning.
He had tried to eat the bit of bread he had left from the night before but it and small amount of water he had drunk had promptly come back up. He knew he had to wait here and hope Hercules would be able to follow his trail to his camp. Slowly, he slid over on his side, wrapping the blanket around him as he gazed into the fire. Sleep finally overcame him, deep and dark, whirling him downward toward his greatest regrets.
Hercules had returned to the Thessala crossroads. He went east, toward Thebes, the same way Iolaus had gone when they parted ways. He had traveled only a short distance when he was overcome with a feeling of cold dread. Iolaus had left the road here, he knew it. He hadn’t gone as far as he had wanted to go.
Turning right, Hercules started into the woods. He wasn’t following track or sign. He was following something else. He knew it was the bond they shared, the unexplainable link between them that called to him now. And he knew, with ever fiber of his being, that Iolaus’ life depended on his ability to answer the call.
Iolaus called out, so faintly no one else would have heard, the name of the one person he knew could help him.
“Hercules, please!” Even in the throes of mounting fever, Iolaus knew he needed help and soon. He had no way of knowing if Hercules was even on the road yet, but he knew his soul cried out to his. He knew Hercules would come.
Hercules had heard his name. He had heard Iolaus call to him.
He found Iolaus after cutting a straight path to his friend, moving instinctively in the right direction. Iolaus was huddled against a great tree-fall, on his side. His thin blanket was wrapped around him and he shivered uncontrollably. Hercules knelt beside Iolaus, touching his fever bright face gently. The heat radiated in hateful waves, his skin clammy to the touch. Iolaus opened his eyes, the azure blue glazed with fever.
“Herc. You came.” He reached up to clutch Hercules’ hand, pulling it away from his face.
“Yeah, buddy. I can’t leave you alone for a minute.”
Iolaus grinned, his breathing shallow. He tried to rise but the effort brought on a fit of coughing. Hercules put his hands on Iolaus’ shoulders, pushing him down.
“Be still, Iolaus. You’ve got a bad fever. Could be from the cold you had that you never got over. I told you that you needed to rest for awhile.”
Iolaus lay back and gave up the unequal attempt to get up.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just had so much on my mind. Ania and getting home. I’m tired, Herc.”
“I know. Just rest. I’ll get a fire started and brew up some tea.”
Iolaus made a face, despite himself. Hercules’ cures were worse than the disease.
It was willowbark. Iolaus hated willowbark. It was so bitter.
“Pine needles, Herc. Just a few. Maybe then the willowbark wouldn’t take the skin off my mouth.”
Iolaus lay back, gazing up at Hercules through fever-glazed eyes. He smiled faintly. “Thanks, Herc.”
Hercules pulled the blanket up around Iolaus and felt his face. Still high, but not as high as before.
“No thanks needed, Iolaus. This is us. I should never have left you.”
But Iolaus had fallen into a contented sleep. Still very sick, he could turn the responsibility for his safety over to Hercules. Hercules would take care of it. Iolaus fell asleep with that thought uppermost in his mind.
It was a beautiful dream. They were in a lush, green meadow. Iolaus recognized it immediately as the meadow he and Hercules had claimed as their own while still children. Ania sat on the blanket he had spread for their picnic. Iolaus sat across from her, watching as she held their baby to her breast. The child suckled eagerly, making soft mewing sounds of contentment. Ania looked up and saw the look of awe on Iolaus’ face. This child they had created still drew life from the woman who had carried him safely for nine months.
“You have to go back, Iolaus. Your place isn’t here, not yet.” Her eyes were locked with his, the truth of her words boring into his soul.
“I know. Its just I miss you both so much. Its such a hard world. I could be happy here, with you and him. We were cheated out of so much. I was cheated.”
Iolaus reached out to stroke her cheek, then the cheek of the child at her breast.
“You have to go back. Hercules needs you. I love you, Iolaus, but, here, I don’t have the same need. Hercules would be lost without you. You both have so much to do yet, many trials that only the strength of your friendship will see you through. Many think Hercules takes care of you, but truth be told, you take care of him. He needs your strength to keep his path true.”
Iolaus kissed her gently. He smiled sadly at his son, taken from life so soon, taken from his heart too soon.
“I know you miss him, but I thank you. I have him with me, now, and together we will wait for you. Go now. It’s coming dawn in the world and Hercules has been up all night with you. Go back to him and be well, my love.”
Iolaus awoke slowly, to find himself cradled gently in Hercules’ arms, the demigod bathing his face with a cool rag. By reflex, he snuggled closer against the broad, warm chest.
“Iolaus?” The worry in the voice roused him from the sleep he had begun to slip back into. “Wake up, Iolaus. It’s time. Please, for me.”
Please, for me. Hercules knew that plea would rouse the hunter. Iolaus opened his eyes fully, focusing on the features of the face looking down at him.
“Welcome back. Your fever’s broken.”
Iolaus tried to speak, but his throat was too dry. Hercules reached for his waterskin, letting Iolaus drink.
“Slowly, not too much. You’ve been pretty sick.”
Iolaus coughed softly. “I know. I saw Ania, Herc. We were on a picnic with our son.”
“I gathered as much. You talked in your sleep when your fever was so high. You wanted to stay. It must have been hard to come back.”
Iolaus snuggled against Hercules.
“I did,” he said sleepily. “But it wasn’t so hard to leave. They don’t need me, you do.”
Hercules looked down at the head resting against his shoulder, the face already relaxed in sleep. He gently stroked the blond hair and pulled the blanket up around the both of them.
“I’m glad you saw them again,” he said softly to the oblivious Iolaus. “You deserve that much. I hope she put your doubts and guilt to rest. You deserve that. Sleep well.”
The man tucked his sleeping son in. It had taken him exactly five minutes to fall asleep, but the man had continued with his story, as much for himself as for his son. He leaned over and kissed the small forehead. He marveled again at how much his son looked like his long-time friend, gone now for over a thousand years. The same azure blue eyes, the straw-blond hair, the same boundless energy, the same infectious giggle. It was oddly comforting to see so much of one in the other.
He made his way down the hall to his den, taking a key out of the large, oak desk. He sat down on the floor before the large chest and opened it slowly. Here were all the worldly belongings that he treasured, that he had never been able to part with. His gauntlets, a piece of his yellow jerkin, his money pouch with a single dinar inside.
Slowly, he lay these things aside to lift out the things that meant even more. The braided, leather gauntlets, the tattered purple vest, the sword that its own always carried but seldom used. And, in a small leather pouch, the broken piece of an amulet on a leather thong. The man fingered the broken amulet, the other piece hanging around his own neck. Even now, after all this time, the memories associated with the amulet, both good and bad, brought tears to his eyes. He raised his wine glass and said, his voice choked with emotion,
“To you, Iolaus. I miss you and always will. To the other half of my soul.”
And a soft voice answered, so softly he could hardly hear it.
“To you, Herc. The other half of my soul. Time and death cannot change that. Be at peace, my friend. I am.”
He closed the trunk and turned off the light. He realized how blessed he had been to have Iolaus in his life, both then and now.
finis
Melinda is not online, but if you would like to give her feedback on this story, send it to me, Quiet Wolf, and I’ll pass it on to her.
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