The Heart Has Its Reasons

Author's Note: This is an answer to the July 2001 Iolausian Library List Challenge. The following items had to be contained somewhere in the story: porcupine, picnic, ants, a woman scorned, the color fuchsia, "It's not my fault", a chariot, Hades, hailstorm/sandstorm, the scroll from the Xena episode "The Pen is Mightier" (whatever is written on it comes to pass)

No harm meant to the owners of the characters from TLJ - just borrowing them, and I promise, not profiting in any way!

Ares eased himself into his throne with a sinewy grace as he studied the scroll in his hand. After regaining her divinity, Aphrodite had been too preoccupied with returning to Olympus and her attendants and her beauty regimen to bother with such matters, so she had entrusted the destruction of the magical item to her brother. However, the god of war was not in any hurry to dispose of something that had potentially great uses as a weapon. Turning the crackling parchment over, Ares marveled at how something so innocent looking could contain such power. But, he had seen from experience that the scroll demanded caution. What it interpreted and what the scribe actually meant were more often than not two very different things.

“Hercules dies a slow and painful death,” Ares muttered under his breath. How he longed to write the words in big letters across the cursed parchment. After all, that statement was pretty blunt. Not a lot of room for interpretation.

With a sigh, the dark god crumpled up the scroll in his fist and tossed it up in the air. As it began to fall back down to earth, he sent a small fireball hurtling up after it. The two collided, and with a quick burst of flames, the enchanted scroll was no more. As tempted as he had been to try and use the scroll to get rid of Hercules once and for all, Ares decided he didn’t want to risk things backfiring on him again. Being mortal just wasn’t his style. And he certainly didn’t want to risk Zeus’ wrath. Although he wouldn’t directly be killing Hercules with his bare hands, he doubted that his father would see the difference. No, it was best to stick with the indirect methods and just do what he’d always done. And, if the fates were so inclined, maybe he’d get lucky this time.

“Have you ever been here before, Herc?”

“No,” the demigod answered, following his partner’s gaze across the blue-green sea to the strip of land that was their destination.

“And you’ve never met this queen before, either?”

“No, Iolaus,” Hercules told him for the fourth time. “But she’s asked for my help. What else could I do?”

“Hey, I’m not arguing,” the hunter said quickly. “Personally, I’m ready to take on a monster. I’ve been itching to hit something ever since I had to stare down that beady-eyed rat, Spensius.”

Hercules laughed and slapped his partner companionably on the back.

“If anyone had a punch coming to him,” the demigod agreed. “It was the ‘honorable’ government prosecutor.” Hercules wasn’t one to hold a grudge, but his treatment at the hands of Spensius left a distinct bad taste in his mouth. The man not only tried to get him banished from Greece, but he twisted all of the good that Hercules had done for mankind into something wrong, trying to get the demigod to look upon his life with shame.

“At least you got your freedom,” Iolaus remarked absently.

“I told you justice would triumph,” Hercules grinned. “But thanks, Iolaus, for sticking by me.”

“It was nothing.”

“No,” the demigod continued. “Spensius’ words were starting to get to me. In some strange way, he was making sense. Maybe if I hadn’t been at war with the gods, my family wouldn’t have been sacrificed.”

“Herc,” the hunter began patiently. “You didn’t start that war. The gods did, and you were just trying to defend yourself, and look out for those that couldn’t fight back.”

“I know,” Hercules said quietly. “I’m just glad I had you there to remind me.”

The two warriors fell into a silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they stood at the railing of the ship and watched the impending shore creep closer. Hercules often found it hard to talk about the things that he felt deeply, and Iolaus always got embarrassed when those deep feelings were about him, anyway. But the partners were at a comfortable place where they didn’t need to talk. They already knew everything in their hearts.

“Hercules?”

“Yes.” The demigod turned around to see an elderly man bowing before him.

“Queen Dido sent me, sir, to escort you to the palace.”

“Thank you, but you don’t need to call me sir. This is my friend, Iolaus.”

“It is my honor, sir.” The man turned to bow before the hunter. Iolaus shot a bemused look at Hercules, who answered him with a shrug before the servant led them to an ornate chariot that was waiting nearby.

“I think I’m going to like it here,” the hunter grinned, climbing into the vehicle behind the demigod. Hercules just shook his head as their new companion took up the reigns and urged the horses into a brisk trot. It did not take them long to reach the castle, and the partners were escorted inside with much ceremony. Their wait in a richly decorated drawing room was a short one.

“Hercules.” A stately woman glided into the room. She was tall and lithe, and moved with an almost feline grace. She was upwards of middle age and her dark eyes held a hint of suffering, but she was still strikingly beautiful.

“I’m Hercules,” the demigod confirmed. “This is my partner, Iolaus.”

“I am Queen Dido,” she spoke regally. “Welcome to Carthage. I am deeply honored that you would agree to offer your services to us.”

“We’ll do whatever we can to help,” Hercules told her sincerely.

The queen smiled, losing some of her royal formality.

“You must be tired, and hungry, after your journey,” she said warmly. “I’ll have someone show you to your quarters where you can relax and freshen up a bit. Then we can talk over dinner.”

Hercules thanked the queen, and at her instructions, a servant led them out of the room. Iolaus followed him up a grand, spiral staircase and leaned in conspiratorially to the demigod.

“How do we tell her that this is about as fresh as we get?”

After a period of time, in which the hunter did his best to make himself more presentable, the warriors were summoned by more servants and escorted to the dining room. Iolaus quickly became enraptured with the feast before him, diving into his meal with a ravenous zest. Hercules was considerably more restrained, and after a few exchanged pleasantries he steered the conversation to the reason for them being there.

“The scroll that you sent us mentioned a monster attacking your kingdom?” he prodded.

“Yes.” Dido took a delicate sip from her wine goblet. “A few people from the surrounding villages began telling wild stories about a hideous monster that was destroying their livestock. I didn’t believe them, at first, thinking they were exaggerating attacks by a wolf or some other animal. But then people began to disappear. I sent a few men to investigate, but they never returned. This monster is now making direct attacks on the villages, and it won’t be long before it finds its way here. We’ve never had much of an army here, so you were our only hope, Hercules. You and Iolaus.”

“What did this monster look like?” the demigod inquired. The queen waved her hand, and a man who had been hovering in the background stepped forward.

“I saw it, Hercules, sir,” he began nervously. “It was horrible. It had the face of a man, but the body of a lion. A tail like a scorpion that was instant death to all it touched, covered in porcupine quills. It laid my family’s village flat in a matter of minutes. I’ve never seen anything like it before...”

The man’s terrified description was enough to even make Iolaus pause over his meal. He glanced at his partner, and the two warriors held a silent communication with their eyes. Dido saw the look that passed between the two men and misinterpreted it.

“If you think it’s too dangerous to risk, I understand,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t want either of you to get hurt. I can arrange passage back home for you on the next available ship.”

“Iolaus and I will set out first thing in the morning,” Hercules promised the queen. “We’ll track the creature down.”

“And kill it?” The man who had been an eyewitness to the horror the monster caused looked at the demigod hopefully.

“If we have to.” Hercules hated to take a life, any life, and only did so as a last resort. If this creature didn’t give him any other choice, he would kill it.

“Thank you both,” the queen sighed gratefully. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come.”

“We always try to help if we can,” the demigod said absently, his mind on other things. Another glance at Iolaus, and he could tell that the hunter was thinking the same thing that he was. This creature reeked of the gods. Which made their primary concern not the beast itself, but rather who had placed it here and why. These answers they needed, but most likely wouldn’t get until they confronted the monster.

As the night wore on, Hercules and Iolaus both excused themselves, claiming they wanted a good night’s sleep in preparation of the work they would be faced with the following morning.

“Anything you desire is at your disposal,” the queen offered. “Ask anything and it will be granted.”

“I could get used to the royal life,” Iolaus murmured as he climbed the grand staircase along with Hercules.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” the demigod cautioned wryly. “We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The hunter paused before the door to his room, looking back at his partner. “Do you know what we’re up against?” Hercules answered him with a shake of the head.

“Doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“First we have to find it, and then we’ll just go from there.”

“So it’s the usual.” Iolaus grinned and bid his friend good night before disappearing into his room. The hunter’s jaw had dropped to the floor when he had first seen the quarters that were designated for him. A thick, plush carpet covered the entire floor, and expensive tapestries hung from the walls. The bed in the corner of the room was big enough for an entire family, and virtually every other comfort he could think of could be found readily at hand. In a moment of abandon, Iolaus closed the door behind him and took a running leap into the center of the bed. He giggled as he bounced in the softness. As much as the hunter loved the outdoors, sleeping in the calm peace of nature under the stars, he did crave the luxury of a real bed and a roof over his head once in awhile.

A soft knock on the door made Iolaus start guiltily, like a child who had been caught doing something forbidden. Vaulting off the bed, he made his way to the door and answered it. A young woman was waiting there, dressed in servant’s attire and looking at him shyly.

“Can I help you?” the hunter asked.

“I am Locusta,” the girl told him, eyes downcast. “I am to serve you during your stay at the castle. Whatever you wish, it is my duty to provide.”

“Serve me?” Iolaus wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“I am to attend to you, sir. Anything you want, I’m bound to provide.”

“Like what?”

“Well,” she continued hesitantly, looking up to meet the hunter’s blue eyes. “I could draw you a bath. Or if you’re hungry, I could bring you something from the kitchen. Whatever you wish.”

“What if I want you?” Iolaus asked, a hard note creeping into his voice as a suspicion began to overcome him.

“Whatever you wish.” The girl’s reply had barely been audible as her eyes dropped back down to the floor.

“Please, Locusta. Come in.” The hunter held the door open and the girl slowly entered, turning to stand rigidly in the middle of the room. “Sit.” She took the chair he offered her, perching uncomfortably on the edge. Iolaus went to the table in the corner and uncorked a bottle of wine, pouring some into two silver goblets. He gave one to the girl and eased himself into the chair opposite her, sipping his drink as he watched her holding her goblet in a white knuckled grasp.

“Would you really go through with whatever I asked?” Iolaus inquired.

“Whatever you wish,” she repeated submissively.

“Are you a slave, Locusta?”

The girl looked up at him, surprised by the gentleness and compassion in his voice.

“Sir?”

“Please don’t call me that,” the hunter begged, making a face. “My name is Iolaus. And forget about what I said before. I didn’t really mean that I wanted to... I just didn’t know that the queen kept slaves.”

“Not slaves,” Locusta protested. “Servants.”

“What’s the difference?” the hunter scoffed.

“We aren’t slaves, denied freedom against our will,” she explained, finally taking a sip of her wine. “Some of us are here because we owe a debt. Once that debt is paid, we’ll be free to go.”

“What kind of a debt do you owe?”

“I... did something,” Locusta whispered. “Instead of jail, I came here.”

“How long do you have to stay here?

“I’ve been here five years, sir. I have another ten to serve.”

“Fifteen years?” Iolaus cocked an eyebrow. “That must have been a pretty big ‘something’ to get you all of that time.” The girl looked away, a hint of nervousness to her face. “Ok,” the hunter relented. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, as long as you promise to stop calling me sir.”

“Thank you... Iolaus,” the girl said with a ghost of a smile.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No,” she replied. “It’s not so bad here. Its much better than a prison sentence, and Queen Dido is good to me.”

“She just makes you sacrifice yourself to the whims of her guests.” Iolaus’ favorable first impression of the queen was starting to flag.

“It’s complicated,” Locusta told him. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Well,” the hunter said with a sigh. “If you decide I can do anything to help, my offer still stands.” He rose, helping the girl to her feet and walking her to the door.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?” she persisted. “I could turn down your bed.”

Iolaus looked at his rumpled bedclothes and grinned.

“I think I can manage that on my own,” he told her. With a slight bowing of her head, Locusta bid him good night before making him promise to call for her if he needed anything. Once she was gone, the hunter did not linger long before wearily making his way to bed. Blowing out the candle on the table next to him, he fumbled for a minute with the ties that were holding back the heavy fuchsia curtains that hung from the canopy over the bed. Iolaus wished he could do something to help Locusta, and his mind was preoccupied with the monster that they were soon to face, but he was also tired from the journey. The warm, soft bed quickly lulled him into a comfortable, drowsy state, and the hunter soon was entranced in a peaceful slumber.

At dawn, the rising sun found Hercules and Iolaus at the castle gate, preparing to set off in search of the fearsome monster. Queen Dido was seeing them off, and had made sure that they were well stocked with supplies.

“You’d better let me have that,” the demigod said sternly, taking a heavy parcel of food from the queen as his partner was reaching for it. “If Iolaus carries the food, there won’t be any left by dinnertime.”

“Hey,” the hunter protested. But it was early and he was still half asleep, so no witty retort came to him.

“May the gods protect you in your quest,” Dido told them. Hercules and Iolaus both shot her a look of disbelief, and the queen colored slightly as she remembered who she was speaking to. “Better make that best of luck.”

“What’s with you?” Hercules demanded of his partner as they began walking. He knew his friend well enough to be able to pick up a slight coldness in the hunter’s attitude toward the queen.

“A girl came to my room last night professing to be my servant,” Iolaus began.

“Trust you to get the girl,” the demigod sighed. “I had a man come to me. Kind of shifty looking too. Needless to say, I wasn’t in any big hurry to have him drawing me a bath.”

“This girl was willing to do a lot more than that,” the hunter said quietly. He quickly filled in his partner on all that Locusta had told him. “She claims that they aren’t slaves, but its a pretty fine line if you ask me.”

“Serving at the palace instead of jail doesn’t sound like a bad deal,” Hercules mused.

“Until you take into account the fact that she has to serve the men that the queen tells her to. In the most literal sense of the word.”

“We’ll talk to Queen Dido when we get back,” the demigod vowed. “But now, we have a monster to find.”

That proved to be more difficult than they anticipated. After a long day of tracking, they had found plenty of signs of its devastation, but had failed to locate the creature. When dusk fell upon the land, the partners set up camp and kept watch, but nothing appeared to disturb the stillness of the night. Morning came, and the warriors resumed their task. By early afternoon, Iolaus had skillfully followed the beast’s tracks to its lair. The large cave was strewn with remains from previous meals, but was otherwise unoccupied.

“If it isn’t here...” Iolaus began slowly.

“Then its out hunting.” The demigod’s face was a grim mask of determination.

It didn’t take the hunter long to pick up the trail of the creature. Although he didn’t say anything, he was worried about what he was seeing. The signs the monster left all pointed to a beast that was on the large side. Iolaus was sure that Hercules had come to the same conclusion, and knew there was no need to point it out to him. They tracked the creature doggedly, determined to try and stop it before it took any more lives. Finally, they came upon it as they entered a small village. Fortunately, the town was deserted, having previously been razed by the creature. The beast didn’t seem to realized this, and was prowling the streets of the village in search of a victim to satisfy its hunger.

“Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” Iolaus whispered to his friend.

“I’m glad you’re impressed,” the demigod commented wryly.

They both studied the creature. It was like the man in Carthage had told them. The body of a lion, a more or less human face, and a wicked looking barbed tail outfitted with sharp spines. But the description they had gotten didn’t even compare to actually viewing the monster in the flesh. It truly was a terrifying looking beast.

“So what do you want to do?” the hunter asked.

“Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

The two warriors moved out of the bushes and cautiously approached the creature. Sensing them behind it, the giant beast whirled around with a snarl, tail curling up over its head in a defensive posture. A grotesque smile came over its face as it viewed the potential meal before it.

“Somehow, Herc, I don’t think you’re going to be able to talk it into leaving quietly,” the hunter said. The words were scarcely out of his mouth before the creature’s tail came whizzing past his head. Ducking and rolling out of the way, Iolaus sprang up, drawing his sword from its sheath in a fluid motion. As he hurried behind a pile of rubble, he took another quick look at the creature. It’s hide appeared soft, unlike the scaly beasts they often fought whose skin was impenetrable to projectiles. There was a good chance that this monster would be vulnerable to his sword, but then again, it was impossible to know for sure until he could get close enough to try it.

Hercules had similarly avoided the deadly tail and had dashed in the opposite direction of his partner. After a moment’s deliberation, the creature chose to pursue the larger target. It was very quick and agile for a monster of such magnitude, and the demigod almost found himself victim to its sharp claws, narrowly leaping out of the way of the heavy paw. While the beast was distracted, Iolaus seized the opportunity to try and sneak around it, but the creature seemingly had eyes in the back of it’s maned head. A hailstorm of quills shot out of the tail toward the hunter, missing him by a fraction.

“They didn’t tell us it could do that,” Iolaus yelled to his partner as he dove behind the remains of an overturned cart.

“Yeah, that would have been useful information,” Hercules called back, picking up a huge piece of timber that was once most likely a roof support beam in one of the demolished houses. As the creature came after him again, the demigod blocked the swipe of its paw with the wood.

“We’re like a couple of ants next to that thing,” the hunter muttered, resolving to try and creep close to the monster once more while his partner had it distracted. As he snuck out from behind the cart, Iolaus saw the creature pounce at Hercules. The demigod again blocked it with the beam, but he was having trouble keeping the beast at bay, straining back against the bulk that was attempting to knock him to the ground. Iolaus saw the tail raise up once more and he began running toward his friend. Launching himself off the side of a well, he sailed through the air and swung his sword. The slash of steel connected with the tail, almost severing it completely, but not before the monster unleashed another round of quills, and this time Iolaus wasn’t lucky enough to get out of the way. As the creature howled in rage, it stopped its assault on Hercules. The demigod looked up and immediately assessed what had happened as he saw the creature’s tail broken and hanging limply, along with Iolaus writhing on the ground, his arm looking like a pincushion. Anger rising, Hercules turned back toward the beast. The creature was also in a fury, eyes wild as it jabbered incoherent words.

“Herc!”

Without taking his eyes from the creature, the demigod reached out his hand and effortlessly caught the sword his partner tossed him. He took a step forward, muscles tensed, waiting for the beast to attack. The monster finally charged, and Hercules deftly avoided him. Pivoting, it rushed again. The demigod ducked out of the way, and when the beast charged a third time, Hercules found himself in the position to use the sword.

Iolaus shakily rose to his feet, trying to ignore the pain, as he heard the monster’s dying scream and saw it crash to the ground. Hercules appeared around the side of the fallen creature and approached his wounded friend. Pausing to wipe the blade of the sword clean in the dirt, he helped the hunter slide it back into its casing.

“Piece of cake,” Iolaus murmured. Hercules just shook his head at his friend.

“Come on,” the demigod told him. “Let’s go see if we can find a place to look at that.”

The town had been deserted since the first time the creature had attacked, but some of the buildings were still in reasonably good condition. The village inn was still standing, and although it had sustained some damage, it was still a decent shelter and contained supplies that they needed. Hercules led his friend in and sat him down at one of the few unbroken tables. Quickly getting some wood and water, he lit a fire in the hearth and put a cauldron over it to boil. Finding a full cask of ale, he poured some in a mug and set it before his friend. Iolaus took a grateful drink as the demigod examined the wounds in his arm.

“I’ll have to pull them out,” he reluctantly said to the hunter. “It’s going to hurt.”

“I can’t imagine that,” Iolaus retorted sarcastically. “I mean, they feel so good actually in my arm.”

“Just try and relax and hold still,” the demigod commanded. Pulling up a chair, he sat next to his friend and began the difficult task of extracting the sharp spines. Hercules was as careful as he could be, but the quills were barbed and he had to work at them to get them out, eliciting a painful hiss from the hunter with each one he removed. Iolaus went through three mugs of ale before the demigod was finished. Sixteen quills in all.

“It will be dark in a couple hours,” Hercules commented as he cleaned the bleeding wounds with hot water. “We might as well spend the night here and then head back in the morning. What do you think?”

“Fine,” the hunter muttered, wincing as his partner wrapped a clean strip of cloth around his arm.

“I’m going to go and have a look around the village,” the demigod announced. “Stay here, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He brought his friend another mug, filled with water this time, before he left the inn and stepped out into the quiet street of the abandoned village. Hercules made a lap through the town before heading to the woods on the outskirts. He gathered up a few herbs that he thought might do his partner some good and then made his way back to the inn. Entering the building, he immediately saw that Iolaus was no longer at the table. He called out to his friend, but got no answer.

Starting to worry, the demigod climbed the stairs in the corner and began searching the upper level. He soon found Iolaus fast asleep in one of the rooms. The hunter was warm, a fact that caused Hercules to curse under his breath. Obviously, the spines of the creature had been venomous. Hurrying back downstairs, the demigod looked over the herbs he’d gathered, trying to decide which would do the most good. He chose a few of the plants, crushing them in his fingers and dropping them into a mug. Taking up the cauldron which was still above the fire, he poured a little of the water over the herbs. Replacing the cauldron, he threw a few more of the plants into the boiling water. After a minute, he fished the herbs out of the cauldron and wrapped them in a clean cloth before leaping back up the stairs to his friend.

“What are you doing?” Iolaus grumbled, waking up as Hercules undid the bandage around his arm and pressed the hot compress against his wounds.

“I’m trying to draw out the poison from the quills,” the demigod explained, holding onto his friend as he tried to pull away.

“Herc, that burns,” the hunter complained.

“I know. But it will help. Trust me. Here, hold that in place for a minute.” Hercules positioned Iolaus’ free hand so that he was pressing the cloth to his injured arm. “I’ll be right back.” The hunter sighed and squirmed into a more comfortable position, but obediently kept the compress tight against the wounds. Hercules went back downstairs to retrieve the tea that he had left steeping. He strained the herbs out of the liquid, and brought the mug to his partner. Iolaus grumbled as he eyed the drink suspiciously, but he looked up at his friend in surprise after he took a sip.

“It’s actually not that bad.”

“I found a little honey to add to it,” the demigod explained.

“Good thing this place is deserted,” Iolaus grinned. “Otherwise, we’d have one heck of tab.”

“It’s not my fault,” Hercules countered. “I’m not the one that just had to charge a creature that can shoot poisonous spines.”

“You’re welcome,” the hunter snorted into his mug as he took another sip. “Anyway, this was a picnic compared to having to sit in that courtroom and deal with that worm, Spensius.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” the demigod said. He took the cooled compress away from this friend’s arm and carefully rewrapped the injuries. “Why don’t you get some rest now?”

Iolaus didn’t need much urging. Between the fatigue the pain had caused, the ales he’d had, and the sedative contained in the tea Hercules gave him, he couldn’t have stayed awake if he tried. Hercules sat with him throughout the night, monitoring him carefully, anxiously watching the hunter for any signs of his condition worsening. But fortunately, he slept peacefully through the night. His fever never rose, tapering off instead in the middle of the night. By the time the rising sun announced the new day, Hercules was able to finally relax and breathe a sigh of relief, sure that his friend would be all right.

When the hunter woke in the morning, he found that his arm was a bit swollen, and stiff and sore. But he felt better, and was ready to head back to Carthage. Hercules tried to talk him into spending one more day resting, as he was still pale and a little weak, but Iolaus wouldn’t hear of it. Knowing how stubborn his partner could be, the demigod decided it wasn’t worth even trying to argue with him. So, they began their journey back to the castle, but Hercules resolved to keep an eye on his friend and keep their pace slow.

The morning was sunny, but the air was cool and it made for a pleasant walk. Hercules and Iolaus took their time, enjoying the peace of the day. They talked and laughed, in good spirits after having dispatched another one of the gods’ little pets with minimal damage to themselves. As the golden sun reached its noon position, the two warriors mutually decided to stop for a quick meal. The food supply that the queen had sent with them had dwindled considerably, but Iolaus was sure he could supplement their remaining morsels with a few fish. He tossed his line into the small stream adjacent to the spot where they had stopped as Hercules gathered twigs and lit a small fire. When he had it burning well, the demigod came to sit beside his friend on the bank.

“Iolaus,” he began quietly. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” The hunter knew what his partner was getting at, but it was one of those deep feeling conversations that always ended up embarrassing one or both of them. He tried to shrug it off, hoping Hercules would let the matter drop.

“I know that tail was coming for me when you intercepted it.”

“It was nothing,” Iolaus repeated insistently.

“You put yourself in the line of fire for me.” Hercules wasn‘t about to quit now. “And you could have gotten yourself killed doing it.”

Iolaus sighed heavily. He and Hercules always had a different way of looking at these things, and sometimes it got tiring rehashing the same arguments. To him, they had defeated the creature and everything had worked out fine. Chalk one up for the good guys, end of story. But the demigod couldn’t ever let these things go. He would think about it and dwell on it, dreaming up fifty different ways the situation COULD have ended badly. And he would fret and worry about the danger he felt he’d brought to the hunter, until he finally reached a breaking point. Then came the I-can’t-let-you-do-this-anymore speech.

“Look, Herc. It’s a beautiful day out here, and I’m hungry. So why don’t I just save us some time so we can eat and be on our way? Let’s see... You think you’re a target for all the gods. Everyone around you is in danger. It’s your fault I got hurt. Next time I could be killed. You don’t want me taking these risks anymore. There, did I leave anything out?”

“I’m glad you can joke about this,” the demigod said quietly, a note of hurt in his voice.

“I don’t mean to make light of your feelings,” Iolaus told his friend. “It’s just that, we’ve been fighting together for twenty years, and that’s a long time to have to keep hearing this same speech. When are you ever going to understand that I am mortal, and sometimes I do get hurt?”

“Because of me,” the demigod whispered, almost inaudibly.

“Herc,” the hunter continued patiently. “This is my choice. I chose to come with you to Carthage. I chose to fight this monster with you. And I chose to try and intercept the tail, which seemed like a good idea at the time. At no point did you force me to do any of this.”

“I can’t help it, Iolaus,” Hercules protested. “You don’t know what it does to me to see you hurt, especially knowing that you got that way by trying to protect me. I never want to be spared any pain if it means you suffer it in my place.”

“Then why am I here?” the hunter demanded. “Why did we make that promise to each other to fight back to back? Why am I your PARTNER if you won’t let me act like it. Hercules, let me ask you something. Would you give your life to save mine?”

“Of course.” The answer was immediate and sincere.

“Then you have to accept that I would give mine to save yours.”

“But I don’t want you to. I would never want you to die in my place.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to die for me. But would that stop you from doing it?” Iolaus asked.

“No.”

“Then I guess we’re up against a stone wall,” the hunter grinned. “We’re just a couple of stubborn guys, too noble for our own good.” He stood up, resting the hand of his good arm on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, Herc. I didn’t die yesterday, but I may starve to death now. So quit moping, and let’s eat.”

Hercules sighed and followed his friend over to the flagging blaze, bringing with him the fish that Iolaus had pulled out of the stream. The trout wouldn’t be much of a meal for the two of them, but it would be enough until they reached the castle that evening. He quickly cleaned the fish and put it over the fire to cook, feeling frustrated. The demigod couldn’t help worrying about his partner, and feeling guilty whenever Iolaus was hurt. Nothing the hunter could say would ever change that, but Hercules decided to try and take his advice about letting it go, because the alternative was letting Iolaus go, and that was something he truly couldn‘t bear to think about. And the hunter did have a point. It was a beautiful day, they were both alive, and at that moment, all seemed right with the world.

Ares paced restlessly around his temple, trying to control his anger. The last time he’d lost his temper, he’d sent a fireball blasting through the wall. Before he could get it fixed, rain had poured in through the gaping hole, rusting some of his favorite shields. Which reminded him, he needed to drop in on Hephestus and see what was taking so long in repairing them. The god of the forge had told him 4-5 days, but that had been two weeks ago.

“These things take time,” Hephestus had told him airily when he’d complained. “If you want them fixed right, you’ll just have to wait.”

“Probably too busy shacking up with Aphrodite to do any actual work,” Ares grumbled furiously. Turning his attentions back to the matter at hand, the god of war opened up his window to the world and looked with disgust on the lifeless corpse of his manticore. “Cheap Persian monster,” he snarled.

“Yeah, well, let that be a lesson to you. Buy Greek from now on.”

Ares turned to see his nephew leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Cupid, just in time.” The god of war felt his foul mood ease up slightly.

“What’s up?” The winged god strode into the temple to stand next to his uncle. The picture of the dead creature dissolved and reformed to show Hercules and Iolaus walking together.

“My dear brother has succeeded in destroying yet another of my little toys.”

“Are you really that surprised?” Cupid asked. After all these years, you’d think Ares would have learned something.

“There’s always hope that he’ll trip up,” the god of war growled. “Of course, when he does, that annoying little mortal is always there to intervene.” Ares’ eyes flashed dangerously before he turned to his nephew. “But, fortunately, I have a backup plan. Which is where you come in, Cupid.”

“Hey, look Ares,” Cupid protested quickly. “I can’t help you with whatever you’re planning. I don’t want to hurt Hercules. He’s a pretty cool guy, and besides, mom would never forgive me.”

“Relax, junior,” Ares told him. “You’re part in this is minor, at best. I just need one little favor, that doesn’t involve harming Hercules. Aphrodite will never find out. And you owe me.”

There was no mistaking the threat in the dark god’s voice as he slowly uttered that last sentence. Cupid grew nervous as he considered his options. He really didn’t want any part of whatever plan Ares had for Hercules, but then again, Ares was a god that you just didn’t cross. Ever.

“What do you want me to do?” he finally asked. Ares chuckled evilly. Things were suddenly looking up.

Iolaus heaved a tired sigh of satisfaction as he entered his room. When they had gotten back to the castle, Queen Dido and the rest of Carthage had been overjoyed that they had ended the monster’s reign of terror. All of the people that had taken refuge within the castle walls began making plans to return to their villages and begin rebuilding their lives. And Dido announced a festival to be held in two days, to celebrate Carthage’s freedom and to honor the two heroes that had brought it about. A hasty banquet was laid out before them, with much wine and toasting and merriment. The hunter had enjoyed it all, but he was still feeling the effects of his injuries, so for once he left the party early in favor of bed. Make that, in favor of bed, alone.

But he had scarcely shut the door behind him when a soft knock announced the presence of Locusta, offering to be of service to him. Iolaus invited her in, insisted that she sit and have a glass of wine with him. Again, the girl seemed uncomfortable with the prospect.

“I should be serving you,” she protested as he handed her a goblet.

“Your orders are to do whatever I wish, right?” the hunter asked. At her nod, he continued. “Well, I wish for you to have a drink with me and keep me company.”

Locusta sighed, making herself comfortable in the soft chair as she sipped the sweet wine.

“In fact,” Iolaus went on. “I want you to keep me company tomorrow, too. We can do anything you want to do.”

The girl almost choked on her wine.

“No,” she said finally, setting down her glass. It had been a long time since anyone was genuinely nice to her, and as much as she enjoyed it, she couldn’t let it go on. “Iolaus, may I speak frankly with you?”

“Sure.”

“You seem like a very nice man. I can see in your eyes that you have a good heart. I know that you’re trying to help me, but you don’t have to. My situation isn’t the dire one you seem to think it is. I’m not a young, innocent damsel in distress that needs rescuing. Things have happened in my life. Bad things have happened to me, and I’ve done things I’m not proud of. But this job is my way out. When my sentence is up, I get to leave here and start over again. I agreed to this, and everything that went along with it. Listen to what I’m saying. I’m fine. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it isn’t necessary. Now, if there’s nothing else I can do for you, I’ll say good night.”

Iolaus shook his head, watching the girl rise and leave the room. He had heard what she had said, but there was still something lost in her eyes. Something that made him wish he could help her. But for now, he’d leave her alone. Hercules had promised to speak with Queen Dido about the situations of her “servants”, so the hunter just had to hope that his partner would be able to help Locusta that way.

“Hercules, would you like to take a walk with me?”

The demigod had been hiding out in the corner, feeling awkward over the fuss that was being made on his behalf. With a grateful smile, he took the queen’s arm and together they ambled out into the castle gardens.

“You really have a beautiful kingdom,” he said appreciatively. He meant the compliment both in terms of the land’s aesthetic quality, but also in the way she ruled, treating everyone fairly and not tolerating any suffering by her subjects.

“Thank you. I’ve worked very hard to make it so.” There was no boastfulness in the queen’s voice, but only a quiet pride. She had indeed slaved to build her kingdom, and took satisfaction in the fact that it was flourishing. “But there was a time when I never would have believed any of this could have been possible.”

“After Tyre?” Hercules asked softly. He had heard bits and pieces of the queen’s sad story, mainly from bards and minstrels, which weren’t always the most reliable source.

“Yes. My husband, Sychaeus, and I ruled there for years. Our people respected us, as did our neighboring kingdoms. We never had any trouble at all.”

“What happened?”

“My own brother,” Dido confessed. “Pygmalion overthrew us and killed my husband. Then he drove me out of Tyre.” The queen hesitated, losing herself momentarily in the painful memories. “I didn’t think I’d be able to go on after that. But the fates had other plans for me. They brought me here to settle this land. Over the years I’ve been able to make peace with what’s happened and move on, but...”

“You never quite forget, do you?” Hercules gave her a small, empathetic smile as he took her hand to help her over a rough spot in the path.

Dido gasped suddenly as a strange feeling overcame her. A tingling sensation, somewhere between pleasure and pain, surged through her. She felt hot and cold at the same time, and her vision blurred and her head swam. She gasped again with a small cry, and then it was over. Coming to her senses quickly, she found herself encircled in a strong pair of steadying arms, looking up into a pair of very blue, concerned eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed at the handsome face, her eyes riveted on the soft lips that were moving to ask if she was all right. Yes, she was more than “all right”. Much, much more.

“Well?” Ares demanded as Cupid appeared before him.

“It’s done,” the winged god said flatly.

“Are you sure?”

“Hey,” Cupid protested, growing annoyed with his uncle. “I don’t tell you how to start wars, so don’t tell me how to do my job. I hit her dead center with the arrow. She’s going gonzo for Hercules even as we speak.”

“Good,” the god of war purred, a sinister smile playing across his lips. “You’ve done well, Cupid.”

“Naturally. But I don’t get it, Ares. Why did you want this woman to fall in love with Hercules?”

“Because my idiot half brother is too much of a gentleman to seize the opportunities before him. The fair queen will throw herself at him, and Hercules will let her down gently, which still equals rejection no matter how you phrase it. And you, my dear nephew, with your line of work, should know better than anyone. A thousand manticores can’t equal the fury of a scorned woman. Hercules doesn’t stand a chance.”

Queen Dido lay facedown in the middle of her immense feather bed, shaking uncontrollably as great, heartbroken sobs were wrenched from the depths of her soul. Out in the garden, in the soft glow of the moonlight, something had clicked as Hercules had held her in his arms. At that moment, she had realized how beautiful he was, how brave and kind, and had fallen completely in love with the demigod. Unable to stop herself, Dido had flung her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, only to have him pull away from her.

He was full of a million excuses. Hercules told her she was beautiful and he respected her, but their destinies lay in different directions. She had a kingdom to run, and he had his obligations to Greece. But Dido persisted, until the demigod was forced to bluntly tell her that he didn’t love her and that they had no future together. Then he went on, talking about the state of the servants as if her soul hadn’t just been shattered. She tried again, desperate to be close to him, to feel his touch, to make him understand that she was the woman for him. But Hercules again held her at bay, quickly wishing her goodnight and rushing off to his room, leaving her standing in the garden quaking with emotion.

Finally, the naked grief that had overcome the queen began to subside. Exhausted, she fell into a restless sleep, made even more restless by the appearance of Ares. The god of war knelt down beside her bed and reached out to smooth a wisp of hair away from her face.

“Hercules has rejected you,” he whispered, almost gently. “You must make him pay.”

“Pay?” The word was almost inaudible. The queen was sleeping, but her subconscious was listening.

“You gave him your love, and he threw you aside like you were nothing,” Ares continued. “You need vengeance. You must make him suffer like he made you suffer. Hercules must pay. Hercules must die.”

The god stayed with the queen for awhile, whispering in her ear until he was sure that she’d gotten the idea. Then with an evil grin of delight, he kissed the sleeping woman on the forehead and went back to his temple to wait. This was going to be good.

When Dido awoke in the morning, the events of the previous evening came flooding back. Her initial sadness at Hercules’ rejection began changing to anger. The more she thought about it, the more furious she became until she was storming around her room, throwing things and screaming.

“How dare he?” She seethed. “How dare he turn me down? Who does he think he is? I am Dido, Queen of Carthage. Nobody refuses me! Nobody!” The queen paused in her ranting, setting down a wine bottle that she’d been about to hurl at the wall as an idea struck her. “So, Hercules, you’re worried about the fate of our little Locusta. You should be worried. Not for her, but for yourself.” The queen began to laugh, a wild laugh that didn’t exactly sound sane. “Hercules will pay,” she promised herself, eyes glowing at the thought.

“What can I do for you, Iolaus?” Locusta had hurried to the hunter’s room when he had summoned her, eager to do something to serve him.

“I was thinking about our talk from last night,” Iolaus told her seriously. “I just wanted to help you, but if you tell me that I can’t, then I’ll stay out of it. I respect you enough to let you make your own decisions and to handle your situation yourself. I guess it really isn’t any of my business. But I want you to know, that if you change your mind and decide that I can do something, my offer still stands.”

“Is that all?” the girl asked abruptly. For some reason she wasn’t quite sure of, she was close to tears. Locusta hadn’t cried since she was a small child, and she wasn’t about to start now, in front of him.

“No. I also wanted to ask you if you’d go to the festival with me tomorrow. This isn’t out of pity. I like you, Locusta, and I’d like to spend time with you. Just as friends, just for fun. This is what I desire, so you are obligated to say yes.”

At his teasing smile, the girl had to grin slightly. An alarm went off in her mind, warning her that this was not a good idea. It was never a good idea to get attached to someone, and certainly never to forget one’s place. But this man was just impossible to resist, so she found herself saying yes to him when every instinct advised her to the contrary.

Locusta left Iolaus’ room, feeling a bit lighthearted, which she was sure was a bad sign. As she moved down the long corridor, she realized that she was humming. Definite bad sign. Sighing, she shook her head and resolved to maintain her professional unattachment, even if it killed her.

“Locusta.”

“My queen,” the girl stammered, bowing her head. “You startled me.”

“Forgive me,” Dido said. “I need to speak with you.”

Locusta followed the queen into her chambers, curiosity piqued.

“I’m worried about her,” Hercules confessed. “You should have seen the look on her face last night when I left her in the garden. And now today, there’s no sign of her.”

“She’s probably embarrassed,” Iolaus replied with a shrug, not sharing his partner’s concern. “She’s a proud woman. It probably took a lot for her to tell you how she felt, and now today she’s ashamed to face you. But she’ll get over it.”

“But that’s just it, Iolaus,” the demigod protested. “She didn’t just tell me how she felt. One minute we were just walking and talking, and then all of a sudden she’s declaring her undying love for me.”

“That’s the curse of being the world famous Hercules,” the hunter teased. “If you don’t want women falling at your feet, you’ll just have to stop being so... Herculean.”

“Something’s just strange about this,” the demigod continued, refusing to be placated.

“Herc, the woman survived the murder of her husband and exile from her home and went on to build this entire kingdom out of nothing. I hardly think a little thing like you turning her down is going to ruin her life.”

“I guess you’re right,” Hercules said slowly. The way Iolaus put it, it did sound ridiculous for him to be worrying about the strong, capable queen.

“I am,” the hunter insisted. “So quit brooding and come hunting with me. Locusta tells me that the orchard behind the castle is brimming with stag.”

“Please,” the girl begged. “Queen Dido, you cannot ask me to do this.”

“I’m not asking, Locusta,” the queen said coldly. “This is an order.”

“I can’t.”

“I don’t see what the problem is. After all, this little talent of yours is what brought you to me in the first place.”

“I can’t,” Locusta repeated. “Not to him.”

“I’m in a generous mood today, so I’ll make you a deal,” Dido told the girl. “Take a walk down memory lane. One more time. And if you succeed, I’ll grant you your freedom. I’ll give you a horse and enough money to take you as far as you want to go. All is forgiven, and you will be free to put everything behind you and start a new life.” The queen took Locusta’s silence as an affirmation and pressed a vial into her hand.

“I can’t use this,” the girl whispered, putting the vial down on the table after she had uncorked it and sniffed the contents. The queen shot her a look, so she hastily explained. “It jaundices the skin. Everyone will know he’s been poisoned. I can get something else. One that leaves no trace.” And one that is more humane, she thought to herself. If she had to do this, he at least deserved to peacefully slip away, falling into eternal sleep none the wiser. Not the violent, painful death that would come from that vial.

“I don’t care what you use,” the queen said loftily. “Just make sure it does the job. I want him dead. Tomorrow.”

“There you are,” Iolaus called out as he saw Locusta making her way toward him through the crowded street. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, reaching his side. “I left the castle early this morning. I had to take care of something.”

“Queen Dido really knows how to throw a party, I’ll give her that,” the hunter said appraisingly. In two days time she had managed to gather a wealth of vendors and performers of all types. Bright decorations lined the main streets of the city, eclipsed only by the crowds of people decked out in even brighter finery. The air was celebratory, as everyone was overjoyed that the monster terrorizing them had been dispatched and they could now reclaim their lives. And so they mingled in the streets on a gloriously sunny day, sampling wares, admiring livestock, buying trinkets, and enjoying the bards, musicians, and street performers. But the absolute best part, as far as Iolaus was concerned, was that the queen had made sure that he and Hercules were not charged for anything that they wanted. Since they had refused her reward money, it was the least she could do to repay them for risking their lives to save Carthage.

“She’s going to regret that deal,” the hunter giggled. He had already partaken of enough of the sumptuous wares to make his nearly forgotten injury worth the trouble, and it was only early afternoon.

For the rest of the day, Iolaus and Locusta enjoyed the delights of the festival. The took in the exhibitions, browsed the marketplace, sampled almost all of the food vendors, participated in some of the games, and enjoyed the performances. The hunter hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he enjoyed her company. Once she loosened up, she was very easy to talk to and quick to laugh. He was glad that she’d agreed to join him. If he couldn’t release her from her servitude, at least he could help her forget about it, if only for one day.

As the evening approached, Hercules caught up with the pair to join them for dinner. He and Iolaus compared notes from the day, laughing and joking. Locusta watched the friendly teasing between them, and her heart ached. She tried reminding herself that this was why one should never get attached. Why one should never look at clients as real people, with real lives and families that would miss them. But even if she had remained clinically detached from Iolaus, there was no denying the unspoken bond between the two men before her. They really were the world to each other, and she was going to have to rip that apart.

“Are you all right?” Iolaus asked, glancing over and seeing a sadness in Locusta’s face.

“I’m fine,” she replied, a bit too quickly. Her eyes focused on the heaping plate in front of the hunter and she made a face. “Gods, Iolaus, how can you be hungry? With all we’ve had today, I won’t need to eat again for a week. Where do you put it all?”

“Hey, don’t be too hard on him,” Hercules chimed in. “It takes a lot of energy to keep that mouth running day and night.”

“Ha ha,” Iolaus grumbled. “It’s called charm, Herc.” The demigod cocked an eyebrow, ready to retort, but the hunter cut him off. “Anyway, it works Mr. Strong and Silent. Out of the two of us, who has a date?” Grinning wickedly, Iolaus rose and took Locusta’s hand, leading her out to dance as Hercules sat alone, shaking his head and smiling good naturedly.

The night wore on, and the crowds began to disperse until only a few diehard revelers remained in the streets. Iolaus suggested they return to the castle. Hercules had already gone back a few hours ago, but Locusta was reluctant. If they went back, she would have to do her job. But she finally had to admit that she could put it off no longer. As they began to walk, Iolaus took her hand companionably. The girl was glad it was dark, for she was having trouble stopping the tears from falling.

“Would you like me to come in?” Locusta asked softly as they paused outside Iolaus’ room.

“Yes,” he told her. “But only if you want to come in. Don’t do it out of duty. It has to be your choice.”

“I’m not a servant today,” she murmured, reaching out and opening the door. “You’ve freed me.” And he was about to free her forever. “Sit down, Iolaus, and relax. I’ll get us some wine.”

Cupid stood outside Aphrodite’s temple for a long time, debating with himself before he finally reached a decision. Entering, he found the goddess of love surrounded by untouched piles of petitions, twining a golden curl around her slender fingers as she stared absently into space.

“Mom?”

“Hey,” Aphrodite exclaimed in surprise, shocked to see her son. They didn’t exactly have a real close relationship. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” he said slowly. “I need some advice.”

The often vapid goddess immediately became serious. For her son to come to her asking for help, something major had to be in the works.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve... done something....”

“What did you do that for?” Iolaus demanded, looking to where his glass had rolled onto the floor after Locusta had slapped it from his hand.

“I can’t do it,” the girl blurted out as she began sobbing. “Gods help me, I can’t.”

Iolaus was completely confused, but he couldn’t ignore the damsel in distress. Approaching the distraught woman, he wrapped his strong arms around her, hugging her tightly to him, stroking her hair and whispering to her to soothe her. Locusta clung to him tightly for several minutes, then she regained control of herself and pushed him away.

“Don’t be nice to me,” she gasped. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Locusta, please.” Iolaus took her hands and made her face him. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”

She looked into those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, that held so much kindness and concern that it started her off on a fresh wave of tears.

“I just tried to kill you,” she told him, making a sound that was partway between a laugh and a sob.

“What?”

“The wine.” She nodded her head towards the bottle on the table. “I poisoned it.”

Iolaus was speechless for several moments. Dropping her hands, he stared at the wine bottle and the goblet and the spilled wine on the floor. Finally, he found his voice.

“Why?”

“Because its what I do,” she said hollowly. Feeling suddenly very drained, Locusta collapsed into one of the soft chairs. Iolaus sunk down into the one across from her and patiently waiting for an explanation.

“Go on,” he eventually prodded when it seemed like she wasn’t going to continue.

“My parents died when I was very young,” Locusta began. “I didn’t have anywhere to go, or anyway to make a living. Eventually, I ended up at a brothel.”

“You were a prostitute?”

“The star attraction,” she laughed bitterly. “I’ve always looked much younger than I really am, and the woman in charge said I had an innocent quality about me. That was pretty popular with the men. Guess I fulfilled a few fantasies.”

“Where does the poison come in?” Iolaus inquired.

“I’m not even sure how that started. Before I knew it, I was getting paid to poison clients. We had a lot of important businessmen and statesmen coming in, and those types always had enemies. Enemies that couldn’t get close to their targets. Not like I could. I learned a lot about poisons. Different kinds and the different effects they had. Which ones would leave no trace and make it look like a natural death. And I was good at what I did.”

“How many?” the hunter whispered. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. Never would he have guessed that this girl could be capable of murder.

“Too many,” she murmured. “Too many to count.”

“Didn’t anyone ever get suspicious?”

“I’m sure there were suspicions. But these were all prominent men. If it was known that they died in a brothel, it would be scandalous. So, the bodies were always taken out in the dead of night by one of their people, and the deaths were never investigated. Besides, I was ‘young and innocent’. I don’t think any of the clients wanted to believe that I could do such a thing to them.”

“So how did you get caught?”

“One of the other girls turned me in,” Locusta answered, running a hand through her hair. “I had been getting paid a lot of money for my work. I was trying to get enough to get out of the business, so that I could leave and start a new life. I was almost there, when I consorted with a man that one of the other girls had fallen in love with. Jealousy overcame her, and she reported me to the authorities. Fortunately, the magistrate was a bleeding heart type. He felt that I was a victim of society and that jail wasn’t the place for me. Queen Dido had an arrangement with him to take on certain prisoners in need of ’rehabilitation’ as servants. We came to the castle and worked, earning as we served our sentences. The castle is so heavily guarded, there’s no chance of escape. Their theory is that once our time is up, we’ll have money to start with and will have learned the value of gainful employment.”

“Gainful employment?” Iolaus scoffed. “It doesn’t sound like much changed.”

“When Queen Dido agreed to let me come here, we had an understanding that part of my job would be to ‘entertain’ any of her guests that were interested. I didn’t think it was such a big deal, but I grew to hate it more than I ever could have imagined. At least in the brothel it was my decision. I had the option of saying no. When that was taken from me, I felt degraded and lost my remaining dignity. At the brothel, I could demand respect. Here, I was just used. I’ve been a prostitute most of my life, but I never once felt like a whore until I came here. But still, that was a small part of my life. The queen really was good to me, and it was still a much better life than rotting in a jail cell.”

“Locusta, why me?”

“Queen Dido ordered me to do it,” she whispered. “She knew my history. I didn’t want to, Iolaus. You have to believe me. But the queen promised that if I did, she’d grant my freedom and finance my new life. My greatest wish was to be able to go free and start over. Forget the past, and live the kind of life that I’d always dreamed of. The queen was going to give that to me.”

“So what stopped you?” the hunter asked softly.

“I just couldn’t do it,” Locusta answered. “It was always my rule never to get involved. Don’t ever see people as humans. Keep distanced from everyone, and never let emotions in. But you were different, Iolaus. You were so full of life, and you were just trying so hard to help me. It’s been a really long time since anyone cared anything about me. I could see that you did, and that you really wanted to help me, just out of the goodness of your heart. What can I say? You got to me.”

“I’m glad I did,” Iolaus grinned. “Being charming saved my life. But I still don’t understand. Why in the name of Zeus would Dido want me dead?”

“I don’t know,” Locusta told him. “She wouldn’t tell me. I‘d never seen this side of her before. It was like she just snapped.”

“Come on.” The hunter stood and extended his hand to help her up. “We need to talk to Hercules and get to the bottom of this.”

The demigod was not happy to be awakened, but once he’d heard Locusta’s story, he forgot all about sleep and demanded to see the queen. Dido eagerly agreed to come to his room, but once she entered and saw Locusta with a very alive Iolaus, her happy smile contorted to a scowl of rage.

“You,” she hissed at the hunter. “Locusta, what is the meaning of this?”

But the girl remained silent, refusing to meet the queen’s angry gaze.

“Dido, you have some explaining to do.”

The queen stood in the room, seething as she glared at the three of them.

“I’m losing patience,” Hercules warned. “Why would you want Iolaus dead.?”

“Because,” she spat. “I wanted you to suffer. I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me. I wanted to see your heart break, see you in agony, before I sent you to join him.”

“Dido...” the demigod began, but he was at a loss for words over the queen’s erratic behavior.

“No,” she cried as he took a step toward her. “Don’t you come near me. I love you, Hercules. And if you can’t love me...” Wild eyed, the queen turned around and flew out of the room, leaving Iolaus and Hercules to exchange a worried look.

“You don’t think she’d...” Iolaus trailed off, and instantly the partners dashed out to follow the queen. Trailing her to her room, they found that she’d locked herself in.

“Stand back,” the demigod commanded, worried that Dido was intent on hurting herself. Almost effortlessly, he kicked open the heavy oaken door. As they dashed inside, they found the queen sprawled across her bed, spasmodically convulsing and frothing at the mouth. Hercules cursed as he pried the empty vial of poison from her clenched fist.

“I’ll get Locusta,” Iolaus called over his shoulder as he sped from the room. But the girl could offer no hope.

“There isn’t an antidote,” she said helplessly. The three stood silently, watching as the once great queen writhed in pain before she finally quieted and died.

“Hercules,” the hunter said softly as they stood over the grave of Queen Dido. “This isn’t your fault.”

“You should listen to Sweet Cheeks, bro.”

The partners whirled around to see Aphrodite materialize before them.

“What are you doing here?” Hercules asked, somewhat suspiciously.

“Hello to you, too,” the goddess sniffed.

“Hello, Aphrodite. It’s nice to see you. Now, why are you here?”

“To keep you from laying a guilt trip all over yourself,” Aphrodite told the demigod. “Curly’s right. This wasn’t your fault. The gods were at work here. Cupid told me the story, but by that time, we were too late. Dido was already dead.”

“Cupid!” Hercules smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. That’s why Dido acted the way she did. Cupid shot her with one of his arrows!”

“You can’t blame him,” Aphrodite said quickly in defense of her son. “Ares blackmailed him. Cupid felt really bad about it and tried to make it right, but...”

“Ares?” Iolaus scratched his head thoughtfully. “He set this whole thing up?”

The goddess of love nodded her pretty head.

“He put the manticore here, and when that backfired he had Cupid do his thing, hoping that he could entice Dido into revenge after you rejected her. And it worked. Logic just has no place under the spell of Cupid’s arrows. The only thing Ares didn’t count on was Sweet Cheeks here being irresistible to woman.” She winked at the hunter. He blushed a bit, but grinned and returned the wink, making Hercules roll his eyes.

“Aphrodite, can’t you do anything? Dido was a great queen, and she didn’t deserve this.”

“Sorry, bro. I can’t bring her back. The best I could do was talk with Hades and get him to agree to let her into the Elysian Fields. She’s there with her husband now, and she’s happy.”

“Thanks.” Hercules knew that his sister would have helped if she could.

“You guys have a safe trip back. Later, Sweet Cheeks.” The goddess blew them a kiss, and vanished in a shower of sparkles.

“I hope Locusta finds what she’s looking for,” Iolaus declared, looking out over the gentle waves. He leaned back against the rail of the ship, letting the breeze toss his wild curls. Locusta had left the castle, taking back her freedom and going in search of her new life. The hunter sincerely wished her well, and hoped that she would be all right

“Mmm hmm,” Hercules grunted absently, obviously not listening.

“What’s wrong, Herc?”

The demigod didn’t seem to hear him, lost in thought as he gazed at the horizon. Iolaus jabbed him sharply in the ribs.

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. I ‘what'd’ you first.”

“You’re babbling,” Hercules told him. “Or, wait. Is this part of the ‘charm’?”

“You’re still feeling guilty, aren’t you?” the hunter accused his friend.

“I guess I am,” the demigod sighed. There was no use trying to hide it. Iolaus always had the ability to see right through him.

“Herc, you need to stop blaming yourself. You didn’t cause Dido’s death.”

“Sure I did,” the demigod insisted. “She died because Ares used her as a pawn to get to me. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have bothered her and she’d still be alive. The worst part is, she wasn‘t the first to fall victim to my fight with the gods, and I have a bad feeling that she won‘t be the last. I‘m starting to get afraid to let anyone get close to me. It seems like too much to risk. That if the gods know that I care about someone, they‘ll either try and take that away or use it against me. No one I love is safe.”

Iolaus was quiet for awhile, listening to the soft crash of waves against the sides of the ship. He knew his friend’s mind better than Hercules did. The demigod was considering severing all ties with those he loved. If he were all alone, then the people he cared about would be safe. If he were detached, then no one could be used as a pawn to get to him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, but firmly.

The demigod looked down at his partner. As always, Iolaus had guessed what he’d been thinking. But Hercules knew the hunter meant what he said. This small mortal, the brother of his heart, could not be scared off, bought off, or reasoned off. His place was at his friend’s side, and nothing was going to roust him from that spot. Hercules smiled fondly at his partner before turning back to look out over the water. As much as he feared that Iolaus would get caught in the crossfire, deep down he was relieved. The road he traveled was a hard one indeed, and he knew that he’d never make it without his brave, loyal, energetic, stubborn partner by his side. For what it was worth, it was worth the risk. For both of them.

The End

Disclaimer: No manticores were harmed during the writing of this story. The manticore was found to be defective, so Ares returned it to Persia and received a replacement. Hercules and Iolaus promptly killed it.

Back to Challenges Index
Home
The Iolausian Library