Author's Note: This is my answer to the April 2001 Challenge, which was to write a story beginning with the line "This time Iolaus knew, he had pushed Hercules too far". Having just viewed the "Young Hercules" series for the first time, I understandably have YH on the brain. As always, I mean no copyright infringement on these characters and I am not profiting by "borrowing" them for this story.
Iolaus knew that this time, he had pushed Hercules too far. The demigod stood before him, eyes pleading for some sort of explanation while alternating flashes of confusion, hurt, and anger washed over his face. Finally, he gave a slight nod and turned to go, leaving Iolaus standing alone.
He didn’t know why he had said what he did. Iolaus had regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth, and he certainly didn’t mean them. But they were out there, and he couldn’t take them back, no matter how much he wanted to. Yet even as Hercules had stood before him, desperately trying to comprehend why his friend would say something so hateful to him, Iolaus was strangely silent. The apology that he’d immediately tried to offer got lodged in his throat and couldn’t find its way out.
Anyone who knew Iolaus even remotely knew that the blond’s mouth often worked much faster than his brain. His friends could well attest to the fact that any wry comment he made was likely to be insensitive or less than tactful. But he had never been downright cruel before, especially not to people he was close to. Hercules had been angry, but he was more hurt than anything. He’d walked away with no trace of the rage that Iolaus had been expecting. The blond found himself wishing that his friend would have been outraged. Maybe if Hercules had hit him, like he knew he deserved, then Iolaus wouldn’t be feeling so bad.
It had started during their afternoon drills. Iolaus had been uncharacteristically quiet and moody, and was unfocused during practice. Hercules’ gibes only served to darken his mood, and he began snapping at his friend, causing the young demigod to become defensive. Before long, the training exercise had turned into a fierce competition, with both their prides at stake. Hercules eventually succeeded in defeating his partner, and his gloating unleashed another barrage of verbal sparring. The words got more and more heated, until finally Iolaus lost control. His stream of insults culminated with the hurtful phrase.
“It’s no wonder your father doesn’t want anything to do with you,” he had shouted.
Iolaus sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the look on Hercules’ face. Deep in his heart, the blond knew that if he went after his friend and apologized, tried to explain, that the demigod would probably forgive him. But Iolaus was ashamed, he was hurting, and all the emotions running high within him were muddling his thoughts. He remained in the training room long after everyone else had left, trying to come to grips with all the feelings swirling through him.
“Maybe everyone was right,” he whispered to himself. “Maybe I am nothing but a no good thief.” Why else would he have turned on his best friend? When everyone else had written him off as a criminal, Hercules had believed in him. And how had he repaid that faith? By uttering the words he knew would hurt his friend more than any other. Iolaus’ father had always told him that he was a worthless runt that would never amount to anything. It was starting to appear as if Skouros had been right.
Iolaus muttered to himself as he saddled the horse. His pride hated giving up and running out like this, but he had convinced himself it was the right thing to do. The Academy was no place for a screw up like him. He’d never be a great warrior, like Jason and Hercules were destined to be, so why keep going through the motions? Why keep training, and struggling through all those classes, and having Chiron and Feducious yell at him all the time when he’d never be more than a no good thief?
As he fit the bridle over the horse’s head, Iolaus glanced over at the doorway, disappointed but not surprised that it was empty. He could hardly expect Hercules to try and talk him out of leaving this time. Not after what he’d done. With a resigned sigh, the blond swung himself up on the horse, but ended up swinging right back down. As usual, he’d acted without thinking. He was leaving the Academy with no prospects, no plans, and no money. It was going to be a trick to feed himself, let alone a horse. And even a no good thief like himself still had enough conscious not to take one of the Academy’s horses and abandon it down the road. So, Iolaus quickly unsaddled the animal, grabbed his pack of meager possessions, and set off on foot out into the night.
There was enough moonlight for him to navigate his way, and by the time the sun began to dawn, Iolaus was standing on the outskirts of Thebes. He didn’t dare go into the town, knowing if he was seen breaking his probation he would end up in jail. Instead, he veered off the road into the woods, making his way up to a place where he knew he could hide out. It was the cave where he and Hercules had tried to hide Ruff. There was plenty of firewood and wild game, and most of all Iolaus knew he’d be able to see any trouble coming and escape before it was upon him.
For two days, Iolaus lived in solitude. His fishing line and the snares he set kept him fed, but he had little else to occupy his time. Mostly he did a lot of thinking. He realized that leaving the Academy probably wasn’t the best option, but he couldn’t go back, as he had already violated his parole and Chiron would be obligated to tell the magistrate. Iolaus toyed with the idea of going home, but he didn’t know what he would say to his mother. He had already broken her heart once, and he vowed he would not do it again. More than anything, he wanted to go to Alcmene. She had always been so kind to him, and he knew that if anyone could help him figure out what to do, it was Alcmene. But he held back, too afraid to tell her just why he had left.
“Nothing but a coward,” he muttered to himself, echoing the words he’d heard his father use many times before.
The prospect of moving to Athens or Sparta and losing himself in the crowd was becoming more and more appealing to him. At least in a city like that, no one would know him. They wouldn’t know his past, and they wouldn’t know about his mistakes. He could start again, and make a new life for himself. Sighing heavily, Iolaus decided to sleep on it. Things always looked brighter in the morning, and he even had the faint hope that maybe the morning sun would grant him enough courage to try and fix his mistakes instead of running from them. Spreading his blanket next to the fire near the mouth of the cave, Iolaus lay down and watched the dancing flames, letting the hypnotic flickering ease his troubled mind into slumber.
A noise suddenly woke the boy. He jolted up, instantly alert. His fire had gone out and he couldn’t see in the inky darkness of the cave, but he definitely heard someone approaching. From the sound of it, it was a group of someones. Hastily, Iolaus began scrambling back into the cave, groping his way along the rocky wall. Fumbling through the blackness, he finally found the tiny crevice he’d been searching for. He dove onto his stomach and squeezed himself into the space.
The voices were growing louder, and the light from a torch flickered on the walls of the cave. A group of men were all talking at once as they entered, and Iolaus wasn’t able to tell just how many there were. Finally, the one that was apparently in charge quickly shut everyone else up.
“Someone’s been in here,” he growled, pointing to the blanket and the remains of the fire that Iolaus had left behind. The men spread out and searched the cave, but in the glow of the torchlight they failed to discover the boy wedged into the crevice at their feet.
“Everything’s still here,” a voice called out. Over the jabbering of the rest of the men, Iolaus could hear what sounded like the clink of coins.
“Then cover it back up,” the leader commanded. A scraping noise sounded.
“Do you think we should move it somewhere else?”
“No,” the leader decided, after a long pause of deliberation. “Whoever was staying here obviously didn’t find the loot. Its too risky to move it all now, with all those guards after us. We’re clearing out of here in a few days anyway. You three stay here tonight and keep watch. If our mystery guest comes back, kill him.”
Iolaus silently swore under his breath as he heard the words. That meant he was trapped, doomed to spend the rest of the long night wedged into a space so tight he could hardly breathe. But he was left little choice. The men left to guard the cave eventually settled down, after much passing of the wine flask, and drifted to sleep, returning the peace back to the night. But Iolaus didn’t dare sleep. He didn’t dare move. Instead, he passed the hours in immobile silence, shivering against the cold rock, and feeling more alone than he ever had before in his young life.
As the morning sun made its appearance, the men awoke and eventually took their leave of the cave. Iolaus remained where he was for some time, wanting to be sure they weren’t coming back. When he finally deemed it safe to come out of hiding, he pulled himself painfully out of his cramped space. His limbs had long since gone numb, and for a minute it was agony for him to stretch his frozen muscles. But once he got the blood flowing again, Iolaus focused on his next pressing problem.
Vaulting out of the cave, he quickly went to check the snares he’d set the night before. If his traitorous stomach had growled any louder while the men were camped out across the cave, they would have found him for sure. Iolaus’ efforts were rewarded with a plump rabbit and breakfast was soon underway.
“I wonder what Hercules would do to me if he ever found out I really can cook if I want to,” he murmured to himself, thinking of all the times he’d pushed the chore off on the demigod due to his self proclaimed lack of skill. But the grin quickly faded from his face as he remembered that Hercules wouldn’t be finding out that little tidbit. Ever. Sighing, Iolaus finished his meal, even though his appetite seemed to have disappeared.
He remained by his fire for some time, trying to drive away the chill that had settled into him from his long night in the cold cave. When the sun climbed a little higher, the air became warmer and the dew dried, prompting Iolaus to think about moving on. He decided that he would try and make his way to Sparta. Maybe he would get there, and maybe he wouldn’t, but at least he would be gone. He could put the past behind him and try and start over. But first, there was something he had to do.
His curiosity had gotten Iolaus into trouble on more than one occasion, but he never seemed to learn from such experiences. He was dying to know what the men from the night before had and where they had hidden it. So, he soon found himself in the cave, appraising it with a critical eye. He had heard a scraping noise when they had covered the stash, and he realized that a large rock resting innocently next to the cave wall could be the only thing to produce such a sound. But he also realized that he couldn’t pull it aside by himself.
Undaunted, Iolaus sat down with his back to the cave wall and tried to wriggle into the space between it and the rock. It was a tight fit, but after the contortions of the previous night, it didn’t seem to be too difficult. When he was in place, he braced himself against the cave wall and planted his boots against the rock. Pushing as hard as he could, Iolaus managed to move the rock just a bit. He relaxed for a moment, then took a deep breath and pushed again. Straining with the effort, feeling his leg muscles protesting, he was about to give up when the rock suddenly slid away with a grating noise.
The rock had been covering a hollowed out depression in the floor of the cave. Iolaus pulled out two bags, one full of coins and one full of jewelry. He ran his fingers through the pile of dinars, sorely tempted to help himself to a handful, which would be more than enough to get him to Sparta. After all, he would only be stealing from a bunch of thieves, and they owed him something for taking his blanket and fishing line with them when they left the cave. But Iolaus carefully tied the bag back up and replaced it in the hole. With much less interest, he examined the bag of jewelry. He was about to replace it in the hole along with the money, when something suddenly caught his eye.
Iolaus pulled a gold bracelet out of the bag and ran a finger over the intricate design. It was Alcmene’s. He would know it anywhere, having seen it a hundred times before. It had always been shining on her wrist when she’d hugged him hello, tended to his scrapes, set a heaping plate before him, or ran her fingers through his hair in a futile effort to put his unruly mop of curls into some kind of order. A cold anger welled up inside the blond as he stared at the delicate object. The mere thought of anyone robbing Alcmene made his blood boil. He dumped the bag of jewels out onto the ground and pawed through the collection until he found the bracelet’s identical match. Iolaus tucked the two bracelets into a small pocket inside his vest as he quickly came to a decision. He couldn’t directly go to the magistrate, but he would take this stash to Alcmene and tell her what happened. It would give him the chance to help return the stolen items, and also say goodbye to the woman that had always treated him with so much kindness and understanding. Gathering up the scattered jewelry, he put everything back into the bag. Grabbing the bag of coins as well, Iolaus left the cave and began cautiously making his way back to Thebes.
He avoided the main part of town and kept close to the safety of the trees, waiting until evening had begun to descend before he approached the familiar house. Iolaus knocked on the heavy, wooden door, but no one answered and when he tried to open it, he found it was locked. This puzzled him, for in all the time he had known Alcmene, she had never barred her door. A terrible thought suddenly struck him. What if the theft of her bracelets hadn’t been a simple robbery after all?
“If anyone’s hurt her I’ll kill them,” he muttered under his breath.
Iolaus moved around the side of the house until he came to the window. Reaching up and grabbing the ledge, he pulled himself up to perch precariously on the narrow edge. For someone that perpetually seemed to be tripping over his own feet, he could demonstrate a surprising amount of grace when he wanted to. Pulling a small knife from his belt, Iolaus slipped it into the cracks of the shutters and maneuvered it gently until he had released the catch. Sliding over the window ledge, he dropped lightly into the house.
“Alcmene?” he called. There was no welcoming answer, and a quick search of the house revealed that no one was there. He didn’t know if he should be relieved, or even more worried. Iolaus just couldn’t get the image out of his mind of something terrible happening to her. But everything in the bright house seemed to be in order and he could discern no signs of violence. Iolaus sighed as he weighed his options. He knew he was probably being paranoid, but he hated to leave Thebes behind without first making sure that Alcmene was safe. Finally, he decided that he stay for the night and if she hadn’t returned by morning, then he would try to find out what happened to her.
Although he knew that Alcmene wouldn’t mind, Iolaus felt a little strange about staying in the house with nobody else there. Returning to the window, he figured that he would let himself out the same way he’d come in and spend the night in the barn. First, he tossed the two bags of stolen goods out, hearing them clink and rattle as they hit the ground. Then he swung himself up to the window ledge, knocking over a vase in the process.
“Great,” he muttered, dropping back to the floor. “Hope this wasn’t her favorite.” Iolaus quickly cleaned up the shattered pieces of pottery and leapt back to the window ledge, more carefully this time. He backed through the window, dangling from the sill as he lowered himself down. Loosening his grip, Iolaus dropped lightly to the ground, but before he could turn around, something sharp was prodded into his back.
“Don’t move,” a voice hissed in his ear. “This time I’ve caught you red-handed.”
“I know how this must look,” Iolaus began desperately. “But it isn’t how it seems. You have to believe me.”
“And why should I believe a lying thief like you?”
Iolaus winced as he was shoved hard up against the side of the house. He recognized the voice as belonging to Menoetius, one of the magistrate’s guards, a man that he had formerly outwitted a number of times. The guard had been incensed at perpetually having been made a fool of by a “punk kid”, and it didn’t help matters that Iolaus had often rubbed his face in the fact. He knew he was in real trouble.
“Let’s go,” Menoetius commanded, pulling the boy away from the house and shoving him toward the road. “And I dare you to run.” He poked his sword tip at Iolaus’ back once again. “I would love to have the excuse.”
Iolaus was escorted to the holding cell in town and unceremoniously locked in. All of his pleas and explanations fell on deaf ears. The guard was almost beside himself with delight at the thought of having him in custody.
“There aren’t going to be any deals for you this time,” he sneered at the boy through the bars of the cell. “This time, you’re going to jail for a long, long time.”
Iolaus ignored him, facing the wall until Menoetius finally gave up tormenting him and left. Once he was alone, he slowly looked around the cell, remembering the last time he’d been there. Caught for stealing and facing the penalty of prison, until the magistrate offered him the option of the Academy. Iolaus always suspected that Alcmene had suggested that alternative in a last ditch attempt to straighten him out, but he had never asked her about it and she had never volunteered it. But he knew the guard was right. This time, there would be no deals. He was going to jail. Even if, by some twist of the fates, he was found innocent of the theft, he had still violated his probation by leaving the Academy. All in all, things were not looking hopeful for the boy.
He sat down on the sparse pile of hay that was meant to be bedding and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes as the hot tears welled up.
“Well, Dad,” he whispered bitterly. “As long as I’m living up to all the expectations you had for me, can’t leave out ‘crybaby’. That one was your favorite, after all.”
Feeling very alone, Iolaus curled up into a tight ball and tried to nestle down into the hay, but there wasn’t enough to really be of any use. He’d asked for a blanket, but Menoetius simply told him he should have stolen one while he had the chance. Trying to block out the drafts the best he could, he finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.
After a restless night, Iolaus spent the first part of the morning feeling sorry for himself before deciding to try and figure out a way to get himself out of the mess he was in. He doubted that he could convince the magistrate to simply let him go, but he was innocent of the theft accusations, after all. There had to be a way he could clear his name.
Plan A was to talk to the magistrate. The old man really wasn’t such a bad guy, and Iolaus had to admit he tried to be fair, if nothing else. At least he would listen to the explanation and try to get to the bottom of it. But when Menoetius brought him a bowl of watery gruel at noon, he informed Iolaus that the magistrate was in Corinth and wouldn’t return for three days. The mention of Corinth triggered Plan B. Jason would surely help him out. At the very least, he could insist that Iolaus be housed in a more humane setting. But the guard was no more receptive to Plan B than he had been to Plan A.
“Yeah, right. Like I’m supposed to believe that a lying thief like you knows the King of Corinth.”
“It’s true,” Iolaus protested, growing angry. “I was at the Academy with him. He’s one of my best friends.” Technically, his best friend, now that he’d alienated Hercules forever.
“You can tell it to the magistrate in three days,” Menoetius said dismissively, turning on his heel and stalking down the corridor.
Iolaus swore in frustration as he paced in a small circle around his tiny cell. He walked until he had calmed himself down, stopping to lean against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. As he tried to work out a Plan C, his gaze fell upon the bowl that the guard had left. Tucking his golden curls behind his ear, he cautiously approached his meal.
“I didn’t think anything could be worse than Academy food,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose in distaste after working up the courage to try a bite. But he had the feeling it was all he was going to get, so he finished it all.
Iolaus did what he could to try and pass the hours. He went through several modified drill exercises, picturing the leering face of the guard as he parried and thrust with his invisible staff. With previously unseen dedication, he sat quietly and concentrated, trying to recite in his head the most recent lectures Chiron had given. Like always, he hadn’t really been paying attention and hadn’t retained much, so his lessons were short lived. It wasn’t that he was stupid and couldn’t learn, as Feducious always seemed to imply. He just didn’t have the attention span or the interest in applying himself to the information that he didn’t care about. As the sun began to set, Iolaus succeeded in prying a chunk of mortar from the stone walls and tossed it about the cell for a diversion. But by the time darkness had fallen, his toy had crumbled into tiny fragments and he had finally admitted to himself that he was stuck. Until the magistrate returned to hear his story, he would have to ride out his confinement. And for one with as much energy and restlessness as young Iolaus possessed, it was a long confinement indeed.
“I hope they send you to the big house in Athens,” Menoetius taunted him mercilessly as he shoved a bowl through the bars of the cell. “I bet the guys in there would just love to get a pretty young thing like you.”
Iolaus glared defiantly at his tormenter with piercing blue eyes until the man left. Picking up the bowl, the boy spooned up some of the contents and let it dribble back down to the dish. It was a greasy stew, and Iolaus felt his stomach turn just looking at it. He quickly pushed the bowl away from him and retreated back into the corner, huddling there in a heap of misery.
“Why do you have to pick on him, Menoetius? He’s just a kid.”
“Because, Cephisus, that kid is a hoodlum.” Menoetius glared at his fellow guard, who had been waiting for him in the corridor. “For two years that little punk made a fool out of me on a daily basis. Now he’s getting his due.”
“I still don’t think you should be so hard on him.” Cephisus glanced behind him to the cell where they’d been holding the boy. “Do you think he’s ok in there? He wasn’t looking so good.”
“Who cares?” Menoetius was becoming bored with the conversation. He was ready for a few hours at the tavern. “He’d be doing society a favor if he dropped dead.”
“But Menoetius.” The younger guard caught the arm of his superior. “Don’t you think we should at least check out his story? We could find that cave he told us about, and see if that rock is there like he said. If he’s telling the truth and he didn’t do it, then the thieves are still out there.”
“Of course he’s not telling the truth,” Menoetius snapped in irritation, pulling his arm away. “Haven’t you learned yet that there’s no such thing as an honest thief. If there is such a cave, then he only knows about it because that’s where he’s been hiding out. Now, I’m going to the tavern. Are you coming?”
Their words faded from earshot, but Iolaus had heard all he’d needed to. He suddenly realized that his hopes of the magistrate hearing him out had all been a crazy pipe dream. Menoetius had caught him climbing out of a window with two bags of stolen goods. With that kind of evidence against him, who would ever take the word of a no good thief? Only one person. Hercules.
Iolaus knew that Hercules would believe him. He had never, ever been able to lie to his friend. The demigod had a knack for seeing right through him, a trait most likely inherited from his mother. Iolaus knew that he could tell Hercules what had happened, and his friend would be convinced of his innocence. At least, he would if they were still friends.
When they had met as children, they had become fast friends almost immediately. Hercules had been shy and reticent, in contrast to the daring, reckless Iolaus. But somehow, they had filled up the emptiness in each other’s young heart and brought out the best in each other. At first, Iolaus was a protector for the younger boy. Because of the mystery surrounding him and the lack of a father, Hercules was often teased by village children. But it didn’t take long for them to learn not to even think about harassing the son of Alcmene if Iolaus was anywhere in sight. Although he was small and a bit on the scrawny side, Iolaus could fight like a wildcat. This reputation, along with the brash attitude and confidence he exuded, was enough to make even the toughest bully think twice about challenging him. And right from the start, Iolaus made it clear that no one was to mess with his friend in any way, shape, or form.
Hercules had been grateful for this at first, but as he grew into his teenage years, he began to develop his godly strength more and more. His confidence and self reliance also grew, to the point where he began to resent it when Iolaus stood up for him. In no uncertain terms, he told his friend he could fight his own battles. And to prove it, the demigod began showing Iolaus up at every available opportunity.
An animosity developed between the two. Iolaus finally found his home life too much to bear, and ran off to join up with a street gang, making his living by stealing. This breech of morals floored Hercules, who had never understood the motivation behind it. He was also envious of the fact that Iolaus had a father, despite his friend’s protests that the relationship was non existent. Conversely, Iolaus was never able to understand Hercules’ obsession with the father that had abandoned him, and he envied the pretty home and loving mother that he felt the demigod took for granted, seeing it as a paradise compared to where he had grown up. While they hadn’t exactly become enemies, the air between them was definitely adversarial.
But then the fates saw to it that they ended up at Chiron's Academy together. It didn’t happen overnight, but with time they had rediscovered the friendship of their childhood. They had learned to respect, rely, trust, and even love each other once again. Hercules became the most important person in the world to Iolaus. He would trust the demigod with his life, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for him. Which led him back to the question he’d been asking himself over and over again. Why had he said the one thing that he knew would deliberately hurt Hercules? Without a concrete answer, Iolaus could only concluded that Menoetius had been right about him. He was nothing but a lying thief, and he probably would do everyone a favor if he did die. Iolaus seriously doubted that anyone would miss him.
A squabble of voices woke the boy. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the harsh sunlight streaming into the cell, and focused on the figure of the magistrate on the other side of the bars. Dutifully, Iolaus struggled, somewhat unsteadily, to his feet and stood before him.
“Well, young man, I was hoping I wouldn’t be seeing you before me again,” the magistrate spoke, with a touch of sadness in his voice.
“I didn’t do it,” Iolaus said dully.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“What does it matter? You won’t believe me anyway.” There was so much bitterness in the young voice that it made the magistrate wince.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.” The man’s voice was kinder, but the boy just looked away. “Iolaus, what were you doing away from the Academy?” Again there was no response, and the magistrate sighed resignedly. “If you don’t want to help yourself, then there’s nothing I can do. I think I should talk to Chiron, and then we’ll decide what to do with you.”
“Why bother?” Menoetius demanded. “I caught him in the act, and you said yourself he’s not even trying to defend himself. That’s as good as an admission of guilt in my book.”
“Because I wouldn’t be surprised if you are the cause of his silence,” the magistrate admonished the guard with a withering look. “I’ve heard rumors of your treatment of prisoners, and if I ever find out that any of them are true, I promise that you’ll know what they suffer firsthand.”
“I can go for Chiron,” Cephisus interrupted hastily. After a long moment, the magistrate tore his eyes away from his head guard and nodded.
“Go,” he proclaimed with a wave of his hand. The change in Iolaus had disturbed him. When the boy had been before him last time, the magistrate had seen the fire in his eyes and the spark inside of him. He hadn’t wanted to see that die, which was the main reason he had agreed to the Academy option instead of jail. It was his hope that Chiron could reign in his wild spirit and give him the discipline he needed to become the person that the old magistrate knew he could be. But now, the boy before him showed no sign of that spark. He seemed despondent, defeated, and broken. The magistrate hoped that it wasn’t too late to get him back.
When Cephisus told Chiron what had been going on with his cadet, the centaur immediately agreed to accompany the guard back to Thebes. The magistrate met them as they came into town, and after exchanging a friendly greeting, he told Chiron as much as he knew.
“If you send the boy to prison now,” the centaur began gravely. “It will be the end of him. Any hope of him ever becoming the honorable man I think we both see inside him will be shattered.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” The magistrate heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his gray hair. “If you aren’t a criminal when you go in, you certainly will be when you come out. But what can I do? I’m bound by the law, and the fact is, things aren’t looking good for him. Maybe I could do something if he would just tell me what happened, but he refuses.”
“Let me talk to him,” Chiron suggested. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
For a moment, Iolaus thought he was dreaming as he heard the familiar hoofbeats coming down the corridor towards his cell. But as he forced his eyes open, he saw that it was the centaur in the flesh, standing outside his cell and looking at him with that critical eye of his. Holding back a groan, Iolaus struggled to his feet and faced Chiron, thinking that he would have much preferred a jail sentence over having to squirm once again in front of his headmaster.
“Would you care to explain this?”
He didn’t, but there was no arguing with Chiron. So, taking a deep breath, Iolaus began his story with his adventure in the cave and ended it with getting caught climbing out of Alcmene’s window.
“Quite a tale,” the magistrate offered, finally breaking the silence that had enveloped them all once Iolaus had finished speaking.
“I know what it sounds like, but it’s the truth,” the boy insisted, eyes pleading for them to believe him. “If you’ll just go and find the cave. The real thieves will be back for everything, if they haven’t already discovered it missing.”
“Where exactly is this cave?” Chiron asked.
“In the woods outside of town. Hercules....” Iolaus’ voice faltered on the word. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hercules knows where it is.”
“Well, Iolaus,” the magistrate began sympathetically. “We’ll see what we can do to verify your story, and then we’ll proceed from there.”
“Guard, please open this door.” Chiron's request had been made politely, but there was an underlying tone to his voice that made Cephisus afraid to disagree. At a nod from the magistrate, he unlocked the door to the cell and swung it open. The centaur stepped inside the cell and approached his cadet, causing the boy to be distinctly uneasy. Chiron had immediately taken in everything, from the cool temperature of the cell, to the pallor of his student and the wheezing sounds coming from his chest. He reached out a hand to rest on the boy’s shoulder briefly before reaching up to touch his forehead.
“He has a fever,” Chiron announced. “I think he’s developing pneumonia. He needs treatment, and I think I should take him back to the Academy.”
“I don’t know,” the magistrate protested. “I really don’t think I can allow that. Even if he is found innocent on the theft charges, he was still in violation of his probation by deserting the Academy.”
“He didn’t desert the Academy,” the centaur informed them, causing Iolaus to look up sharply. “I gave him a leave of absence to mourn his father’s passing.”
“I...hadn’t heard,” the magistrate said. “I’m sorry, son. Skouros was a good man.” Iolaus gave a brief nod, eyes fixed on the floor. After a long pause, the older man turned back to the centaur. “All right, Chiron. Just this once, I’ll bend the rules a little. I’ll release him to your custody, if you can assure me you’ll keep him at the Academy until we get this straightened out.”
“You have my word,” the centaur decreed solemnly. “And I’m sure that Hercules would be willing to show you where the cave is, if you would like his assistance.”
“Cephisus,” the magistrate commanded. “Accompany them back to the Academy. Have Hercules show you to the cave, then organize a few men to keep watch. If the thieves return, I want a welcoming party to greet them.”
“Yes, sir.” The guard saluted briefly, and followed the magistrate down the corridor. Chiron remained scrutinizing his student, who hadn’t moved.
“Are you coming, Iolaus? Or would you rather stay here?”
“Maybe its where I belong,” the boy said softly.
“And what does that mean?” The centaur crossed his arms in front of his chest, tail swishing as he waited for an explanation.
“I don’t belong at the Academy, Chiron. I never have, and its time to stop pretending. All the other cadets are the sons of great warriors and leaders. They’re going to go on to take their fathers’ places. I’m just a no good thief, and nobody is ever going to see me as anything else, so what’s the point?”
“Iolaus, look at me.”
The boy forced himself to meet his teacher’s eyes. Chiron's normal gaze of reproachment was absent, replaced by one of patient understanding.
“Do you think that you are a no good thief?”
“I don’t know.” The words were barely audible as Iolaus once again found the floor utterly fascinating.
“You once challenged the gods when you thought Hercules was dead. You stood up to Apollo to prevent him from killing your friend. You risked your own life to save me from Ares. If these acts haven’t yet convinced you that you are more than a ‘no good thief’, then I don’t know what will. It doesn’t matter how other people perceive you, as long as you are true to your heart. The sea refuses no river, Iolaus.”
The boy rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. He was not in the mood for any of Chiron’s riddles.
“You belong where you want to belong,” the centaur continued. “Your life will go on, regardless of how you live it. Its up to you how you want to spend it, and how you want people to remember you after you’re gone. A man’s greatest strength is knowing who he is and what he stands for, and if he truly knows his heart, then no one can ever take that away from him.”
Iolaus’ head was starting to swim, and he finally realized that accompanying Chiron would be easier than trying to argue with him. Without further protest, he allowed himself to be led out of the cramped cell. The centaur wasted no time in getting his cadet back to the Academy and settled in the infirmary, forcing on him an herbal brew that would lower his fever. He also prepared a warm poultice which he applied to the boy’s chest in an attempt to quiet the rasping noises emanating from his lungs.
“Chiron, I never would have believed that you would lie for me, especially to the magistrate. Why did you tell him that you had given me a leave of absence?”
“I am a firm believer in the truth,” the centaur explained, laying a damp cloth on his student’s brow. “But in this case, the truth would have meant your prison sentence. I don’t believe you deserve that. You made a mistake, and its time to learn from it and move on. While I don’t know the details, I know that yours has not been an easy life. Yet despite all you’ve suffered, Iolaus, your heart remains true. You haven’t given in to the bitterness and anger that often claims people in these situations, but jail would be a step in that direction for you. I don’t want to see that happen. You are still finding your way, and I don’t believe you should be punished for the occasional falter. I’d rather see you given the chance to choose the right path on your own. You have a lot of potential to become a great warrior, if you would only see it within yourself. Despite what you may think, royalty, privilege, and parentage are not what makes a great warrior, or even a great man. Rather it’s strength, of mind, body, and heart. You have the power to make your own destiny, Iolaus. Don’t throw that away because of a few mistakes and a few words from fools.” Iolaus wondered briefly if fever was causing to hallucinate. He had never seen this side of Chiron before, or heard him speak with such a gentle tone. The centaur even favored him with a warm smile before he quickly became serious once again. “Besides, I would have given you the leave, if you had told me.”
“How did you know about my father?” When the messenger bearing the bad news had shown up at the Academy, Iolaus had been alone to receive it and he hadn’t told anyone else.
“One of your father’s soldiers came here looking for you the day after you left. He had something of your father’s to give to you.”
“What was it?” Chiron excused himself and left the room, returning in a few moments with an object wrapped in a torn, dirty cloth. With shaking fingers, Iolaus unwrapped it slowly and held it up, the polished stone gleaming darkly in the firelight. “My father always wore this,” he whispered. “I never saw him without it.”
“The soldier reported that right before Skouros died, he took it from around his neck and asked that it be given to his son.”
Iolaus didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think. More than anything, he wished he knew what his father’s intentions had been. Had the gift been meant with love, or was it merely a reminder of all that he was failing to live up to? His fingers tightened around the stone briefly before he set it to rest on the table next to his bedside. Wisely, Chiron saw that the boy’s emotions were running high and that he needed some time alone to sort things out for himself. Giving Iolaus a comforting pat on the shoulder, the centaur advised him to get some rest and quietly let himself out of the room.
After a long while of trying to make sense of his conflicting feelings, Iolaus eventually did give in and drifted off, sleeping more soundly than he had in days. Nested in blankets next to the fire, he was warm and comfortable. His stint in the cell had him thinking that he’d never be either of those ever again. Waking only briefly when Chiron came to check on him, Iolaus slumbered through the night and most of the following day. But when the centaur woke him in the evening for another dose of the healing tea, he seemed to be more alert and in a better mood.
“Drink it,” Chiron ordered him as the cadet wrinkled up his nose at the brew. “And maybe then I’ll bring you something to eat.” Iolaus complained a bit, but he downed the entire mug. “Your fever’s down and you seem to be breathing easier. Are you feeling better?” When the boy answered affirmatively, the centaur’s eyes twinkled and a sly smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Good. Then tomorrow you can begin catching up on all the lessons you’ve missed.”
“I walked into that one,” Iolaus muttered as Chiron left the room. He made himself comfortable, and dozed off until the door creaked open once more. But it wasn’t the centaur returning.
“Hey,” Hercules said, hovering uncomfortably in the doorway.
“Hey,” Iolaus replied. At least, he *had* been feeling better.
“Chiron was needed for something in the practice room, so I told him I’d bring this to you.” The demigod came forward and handed him a steaming mug.
“Thanks.” Iolaus held the warm mug in his hands, inhaling the scent of the hot broth but suddenly losing his appetite.
“How are you feeling?” Hercules asked uncertainly.
“I’ll be fine,” came the reply. “Did you find the cave?”
“You mean Chiron didn’t tell you?” Some of the awkwardness was abated as Hercules’ excitement rose. He pulled up a chair next to the bed and plopped into it. “I showed Cephisus where to find it, but when we got there we found one of the thieves. Apparently, the gang had found out that they had been robbed, so they left one of them behind in case the person who took off with their loot came back. He put up one heck of a fight, but once we caught him, he confessed to everything and even ratted out the rest of his buddies. So, you are off the hook.”
“That’s great.” But Iolaus didn’t sound like he really thought so. Taking a deep breath, he decided that there would be no more running and no more stalling. “Hercules, I’m sorry for what I said to you.”
“It’s ok.”
“No, its not. I know how important this is to you, and I know how badly you want Zeus to notice you. I never should have said what I did, and you have to know that I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” Hercules assured him. “I was hurt at first, but then it started me thinking. I’ve been killing myself trying to get Zeus to acknowledge me, and I think its time to stop. All its ever gotten me is trouble, both for myself and for my friends. Instead of living my life trying to impress someone who abandoned me and obviously couldn’t care less about me, maybe I should try living my life as the kind of person that I want to be. And besides, you never would have said it if I hadn’t egged you into it. I should have seen that something was bothering you, but instead I started a fight. Iolaus, Chiron told me about your father. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” Iolaus took a sip of the broth. “Well, in a way I am. I’m not sorry he’s dead, but I am sorry that I’ll never get that chance with him.”
“What chance?”
“The chance to stand before him and prove him wrong. Herc, do you know why I came to the Academy?”
“To stay out of jail?”
“That’s what everyone thinks. And yeah, that is the main reason. But I didn’t come here just to avoid prison. I came here because I wanted to learn to be a great warrior. Greater than my father. I wanted to be a hero. So that someday, I could confront my father and he’d have to take back everything he’d ever said about me. Long after he’d written me off, I could stand before him and show him how I turned out without any help from him. But now I’ll never get that chance. He died believing that I was just a worthless, crybaby thief.”
Hercules listened to his friend in silence. He had always known that Iolaus’ relationship with his father had been strained, at best. But the blond refused to talk about it, so not even Hercules knew the extent of what the boy had suffered. The demigod always suspected that Skouros could be cruel, but he was only starting to get a hint of the depth of that cruelty. No wonder Iolaus often acted brash and cocky. It was the only defense the boy had against his father’s abuse.
“Well, you can still go on to become that hero,” Hercules finally said. “Only instead of doing it to show up your father, you can do it for the right reason.”
“And what’s that?”
“Because its who you are,” the demigod told him quietly. “In all the time I’ve known you, Iolaus, you’ve always been both brave and loyal. You’ve never failed to stand beside me, no matter what the odds. You’re a good person, and I think you would make a great hero. Actually, I think that’s why Chiron and Feducious come down on you so hard sometimes. Its because they know how well you could do if you tried. Don’t listen to what your father told you. He never really knew you. The people that do know you believe in you. That should be all that matters.”
“Thanks, Herc,” Iolaus whispered. Tears began to fill his blue eyes, so to cover he showed his friend what his father had bequeathed him. “I’m not sure how to take it,” he admitted, wiping his eyes quickly as Hercules examined the stone. “I really want to believe that he wanted me to have it because he did feel something for me after all.”
“Then I think that’s how you should look at it,” the demigod concluded. “This obviously meant a lot to him, so he wouldn’t have left it to you if he didn’t think you were worthy of it. Anyway, its more than Zeus ever gave me.”
“I don’t know. He gave you that protection order to keep you safe from the rest of the freaks in your family. He didn’t do that for any of his other kids, did he?”
“Well, no...”
“I think he knows more about you than you give him credit for.”
“Boy,” Hercules said with a sigh, handing the pendant back to his friend. “We sure got the bottom of the barrel when it comes to dads, didn‘t we?”
“Yeah.” Iolaus sat silently for a moment before he slipped the leather cord over his head. The stone felt cool against his chest, and the unfamiliar weight hanging from his neck seemed to be strangely comforting. A thought suddenly struck him, and he couldn’t believe he had forgotten about something so important. “Hercules, is your mother ok? I went to the house, but Alcmene wasn’t there...”
“She’s fine,” the demigod assured his friend. “She went to Parthus to visit my aunt and her new baby, Iloran. She’ll be back in a few days.”
“I found her bracelets and I was just worried that something had happened to her.” Iolaus felt genuine relief that Alcmene was safe and unharmed. “I guess the magistrate has them now. He’ll give them back to her.”
“It means a lot to me to know that she has you to look out for her.” Iolaus quickly searched his friend’s face for any sign of teasing, but he found only sincerity.
“Herc, I know you said that it was ok but I still feel bad about saying...”
“Iolaus, it’s ancient history.” The demigod grinned at his friend and held out a hand. Iolaus clasped it and they exchanged a warrior’s shake. “Chiron told me not to be in here too long, but I’ll stay for awhile if you want me to.”
“Sure,” Iolaus said with a sigh as he leaned back against his pillow. “You can start tutoring me on everything I’ve missed. I guess I need to start taking these lessons seriously, if I’m going to be a hero.”
The End
Disclaimer: Alcmene’s favorite vase was harmed during the writing of this story, but Iolaus turned up the charm and she immediately forgave him.
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