Iolaus held his breath and walked into the waterfall. The beautiful woman that he had been following had slipped easily through the cascade and was motioning for him. Although she had been under the falls for only a few seconds, Iolaus could not seem to reach the other side. He knew he had to breathe, but the water was still crashing down on his head. The struggle to catch his breath became intense. Arms flailing, gasping for air, he sat straight up in bed and realized that he had only been dreaming. But if it was just a dream, why was his head still soaking wet? Confused and half asleep, Iolaus yawned and tried to make sense of all the water. Finally, he looked up just as a bolt of lightning tore through the sky. The thatched roof on his house, long neglected, was leaking right above his bed. Too dazed to think much about it, Iolaus grabbed what was still dry off the bed and lay on the floor. However, as soon as he drifted off, the neighborhood roosters began loudly crowing. What a way to start the day, he thought. What else could go wrong? Little did he know....
Morning's full light revealed a soggy mess. The straw mattress was a loss -- he'd throw that away. Outside the rain continued so he decided to hang his bedclothes by a fire to dry. But his firewood, so carefully stacked by the door for his rare journeys back home, was gone. Probably borrowed by the neighbors who assumed he had finally been swallowed by some slimy two-headed monster and wouldn't be back to complain. Well, they weren't far wrong and he had some fresh scars to prove it. A few too many close calls lately. As long as it was raining, he might as well wash everything outside rather than haul water up from the spring. A few minutes searching through the corners of his house and he had found a bucket and some kind of brush. Just as he finished dragging all his furniture, bedclothes, and dishes outside, the skies cleared rapidly and the rain stopped. Now he was going to have to haul water, after all. Iolaus grabbed his bucket and walked downhill towards the spring. This was going to take forever and he wished he hadn't thought about breakfast. Not that there was any food in the house anyway.
The worn path down to the spring was slick from the night's rainfall but he was sure-footed and not too concerned about slipping into the pool. Suddenly, though, his boot heel got tangled in a root and he was falling head first into the spring. Just as he bobbed, sputtering and cursing, to the surface, Hercules appeared at the edge. "Need a hand, Iolaus?" Hercules tried hard not to laugh at his friend's predicament.
"I was just taking a bath, Herc. Don't need any help with that, thanks." Iolaus shook his hair out of his face. "I see," said Hercules and he tried again to keep from grinning. "Sure, I always fall head first into my bath with all my clothes on. Saves time. Here, let me help you out of there."
"I really can do this by myself." Iolaus paddled over to the side and began to climb out. He pretended not to see Herc's out-stretched hand and was almost out of the water when his foot slipped again. When he came up this time, Hercules had abandoned all pretense of keeping a straight face. He sat on a nearby log and roared with laughter. Iolaus clambered out of the spring and wrung out his wet vest. Soon, he too was grinning at the sorry sight he presented. "It's been like that all morning, Herc. You'd think I was under some kind of curse."
"Well," Hercules began when he caught his breath, "we could start with Hera, of course, and go through all my relatives till we come up with the hundred or so that you might have offended. Let's see...Athena and Artemis may hold a grudge about that beauty contest. Hades is still furious for having to share Persephone for part of the year. And any of the goddesses that need virgins to serve in their temples....."
"Very funny, Herc, but not comforting. Your relatives can play rough." Iolaus sat on the ground, pulled off his boots, and drained the water out. "Some homecoming. My roof leaks, no food in the house, now this." He pulled his boots back on and groaned as each step squished more water out of the leather. "Did you come over just to gloat at my bad luck or is there a reason for this early visit? I hope you weren't expecting any breakfast."
"Oh yeah. A messenger brought this late last night." Hercules handed Iolaus a small square of papyrus. "Ouch, ow, that stings." Iolaus stuck his thumb in his mouth. "What is wrong with you?" Hercules asked. "Papyrus cut. I've had sword cuts that didn't hurt that much."
Hercules shook his head. "This just isn't your day, my friend. Will you be hunting for your breakfast? I hate to think how bad you are going to hurt yourself. Arrows and knives are really sharp things."
"Okay, okay. Go ahead. Laugh, yeah, it's funny." Iolaus read the note again. "Who did you say this was from? There's no signature-no seal."
Hercules shrugged. "I don't know who sent it. The messenger left before I noticed it wasn't signed. But it seems that I am summoned to Aetos as soon as I can travel there. I don't remember meeting anyone from that village. No known monsters around Aetos. What do you make of it?"
"Well, as usual, they didn't include me so I guess I will be here cleaning all this." Iolaus gestured to the table, bedstead, dirty cooking pots and bowls strewn around his front door. "And the roof needs thatching. There's a big leak. Lots of work to do here. Yeah, there is."
Hercules rolled his eyes at the lament. "Throw this stuff back inside and come with me to Aetos. You know you are going to anyway." Iolaus nodded and grinned as he tossed a pot through the door. "Help me carry this table back in. Now where did I put my sword? You got anything to eat at your place? I'm starving."
Aetos, though fairly small, was a prosperous-looking enough village. Most of the inhabitants were farmers, although a few craftsmen and a smithy were located in the rough group of buildings clustered around a central green. Sheep grazed in the main path through town and occasionally the blacksmith was forced to toss chickens back into the yard.
Hercules and Iolaus, who was limping along, slowly crossed the green towards the only inn in town. Iolaus threw his hands up as he argued with Herc. "It was just a small forest fire, Herc. Could have happened to anyone. We got it out before anybody besides me got hurt. And the wagon? How did I know he was going to try to run me down? And you loaded his goods back on after you flipped the wagon back on its wheels. And my ankle doesn't really hurt, it's a little sprained, that's all. Better in no time."
Hercules put his hand on Iolaus' shoulder to stop his rambling. "Enough. You know and I know all this is not just coincidence. Somebody or some thing has it in for you. And I would feel better if you would stand just a little farther away from me until we know who or what." But one look at Iolaus' crestfallen face and Herc began to laugh. "It was a joke, Iolaus... I think." He stopped and glanced up at the inn's sign, where a large green eye had been painted above three wavy blue lines. "Maybe the innkeeper can tell us who sent this note. Come on."
But Iolaus stood and stared at the strangely painted sign. Something about it was familiar, but it was something so far in his past that he could not drag the memory to the surface. And besides, he had never been in Aetos that he could recall.
Hercules handed the note to the bar keep who snorted loudly and flung it back at him. "Can't read, never could, never needed to. You want a drink?" Hercules tucked the note away and ordered two ales. He turned to ask Iolaus about seeing a healer for his ankle but Iolaus had wandered back to the door and was again staring at the signboard. Almost, he almost had a face recreated in his mind, but when Herc spoke the memory evaporated. "Iolaus, something wrong?"
"No, no, just someone I was trying to remember from long ago. It's not important. Did you find out who wrote that note?"
"Well, I found out who didn't. Sit down and take a look at that ankle." Iolaus took a big swig of ale, gritted his teeth, and slowly pulled off his boot. Walking for the last several hours had been close to torture but he had not wanted to slow Hercules down too much. Even in the inn's dim light, Iolaus could see it was bad, much worse than he had let on earlier. Now that his boot was off, the ankle began rapidly swelling. Blood pooled blackly around his toes and deep purple streaks were edging up his foot. Well, enough ale on an empty stomach, he thought, and nothing hurts too much.
Hercules shook his head at the foot's appearance. "It's broken, isn't it? You're not going anywhere soon. No sense telling you that you should have turned back when it happened, is there? Stubborn, hard-headed...."
"Ah, Herc, I've been hurt worse. And we got here, didn't we? Another ale and I'll be dancing the night away." Iolaus pushed his chair closer to the fire and propped up his foot. He waved his mug at Hercules. "Another? You don't expect me to get up and get it?"
Hercules went over to the bar. "We need two rooms for as long as it takes my friend to heal. He needs a physician. Any around these parts?" The innkeeper filled the mug as he told Hercules. "Mostly we heal up without help, but the bad stuff -- broken bones, births, and such, there's an old woman few miles from here. Gives me the creeps with her spells and potions but she's all we got. Name's Amalia. Head out of town towards that mountain. Anybody can point you from there."
"Thanks." Hercules walked over to where Iolaus was sitting. Already, his friend's face was flushed from the pain and strong drink and his eyes were closing. "There's an old woman who heals bones. I'm going to fetch her. Stay here." Iolaus took the mug and drank deeply again."I don't think I will move from this spot, Herc. Just need a couple days' rest, that's all." He was asleep before Hercules got through the door.
Head towards the mountain, then ask for directions. Sounded simple, but Hercules hadn't crossed paths with anyone in the hours since he had left the village. Just as he was beginning to think he was lost, the sound of a goatherd's pipes led him to a flock grazing in a rocky meadow. The young boy was startled to see anyone else in these lonely parts, but pointed the way to Amalia's hut farther up the hill.
As he neared the small hut, an acrid odor reached him. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell of a brewing potion. He'd have to hold Iolaus down to get that mess in him. As he neared the low door and stooped to knock, an ancient voice spoke from within. "Enter, son of Zeus."
Within, the odor was overpowering. His eyes stung from the smoke which seemed to cling to his skin. He wiped his eyes and made out a tiny crone bent over a bubbling pot of liquid. Hanging from the rafters were strings of dried herbs and linen bags oozing thick drops of dark liquid into bottles below. Unlabeled jars, capped with parchment lids, lined shelves on either side of the fireplace. Hercules waited for her to speak again, but she seemed to have forgotten his presence. Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, "What is that interesting smell?"
"Dinner," she replied. "Never could cook worth a damn. Sit down. Eat." She poured the pot's contents into two bowls, sliced some moldy bread, and sat at the table. "Sit. Eat."
Hercules stared doubtfully at the food before him. "How did you know ...?" She cackled a hoarse laugh ."How did I know you are Hercules? How did I know you were outside my door? Because I sent for you, that's why. That's my note summoning you here. You think anyone around here has to stoop to enter my house?"
After he picked up his spoon, Hercules nonchalantly pushed bits of the stew around. She greedily slurped her portion down and watched him keenly. Maybe she wouldn't notice that he wasn't eating, but her sharp eyes missed nothing. "If you aren't going to eat that and I can't say I blame you, give it to me. No sense wasting it." When she was done, she threw both bowls back in the pot. "Later is soon enough to wash up."
Hercules looked around the dusty hut and smiled. "I have a friend who keeps house like you." Amalia turned to him and pointed a long finger at his heart. "Yes. Iolaus. Did he accompany you? Is he below in Aetos? How fares Iolaus these days?" She closed one eye and hummed an old melody to herself.
"My friend seems to be having a run of bad luck. Would that be your doing, old woman?" When she didn't reply, Hercules stood and moved towards her. Her soft snoring made him realize she had fallen asleep. He sat down and waited for her nap to end.
Iolaus fitfully dozed the afternoon away before the fireplace. When it grew late, the innkeeper banked the fire for the night and barred the door. As the room grew chilly, Iolaus realized Herc couldn't return with the healer till the morning. It took a long while and a great deal of cursing to reach his bed and one last mug of ale had gotten him to sleep. He awoke with a start as his foot was turned, then prodded. Clinching his fists, waiting for the pain to hit, he jerked his foot away and sat up. Instead of the ancient healer the innkeeper spoke of, a young woman smiled at him. "Greetings, Iolaus. Do hold still while I examine your foot."
"Where's Hercules and the old woman he went after? Who are you? Leave my foot alone." She softly laughed and explained that she was Amalia's daughter. Her mother could not be out on such a cold night and had sent her instead. Iolaus frowned at her, but slowly slid his foot within her reach. Her cool touch was gentle rather than painful and he had to acknowledge her skill as a healer. She moved the broken bone in line and bound his foot in linen wrappings. As she worked, he studied her face to keep his mind off what she was doing. He suddenly realized it was the same face long buried in his memory. "Have we met before? I cannot remember this village, but you seem like someone I knew long ago. But that's not possible. You're much too young." She stopped looking through her collection of medicinals and shook her head. "You must be mistaken, sir. We have not met before this night."
Iolaus decided his groggy brain had gotten her confused with someone else. She selected a glass vial and handed it to him. "Two small sips now and you will sleep till morning. No more ale, Iolaus; try eating something instead. Rest in Aetos and drink my potion if your foot pains you greatly." He sniffed the bottle and decided he'd drunk worse. She sat on the end of the bed and watched as he grew drowsy. Just as he fell asleep, she kissed him softly. "This is the last time I can aid you, Iolaus." She slipped away into the night.
Upon Amalia's hut, the nearby mountains cast lengthening shadows that deepened into darkness. Hercules put some more wood on her fire and ate the least moldy bits off a loaf of bread. Into the night, he watched the old woman sleep. Just as he decided to seek some other help for Iolaus, Amalia snored loudly and awoke. Impatient with the long delay, Hercules started questioning her. "My friend waits below with a broken foot. Will you attend him now, old woman? How do you know his name? Is it your curse that lays upon him?"
Stiff in all her joints, Amalia stood and stretched out her hand to quiet him. She stirred the coals and gazed into the heart of their glow. Just as Hercules lost all patience with her delays, she spoke again. "The bone is set. His foot is bound in linen and my potion brings him rest and healing."
"You have not left my sight, old woman. How can you know these things?" Hercules, exasperated beyond endurance, opened the door to leave.
"And I tell you, I set his foot and dosed his pain. Put another log on the fire, sit with me, Hercules, and I will tell you a true tale." The flames' shadows danced on the wall as she began. "Iolaus suffers not from my curse. I am Amalia, spirit of this place. My powers were never great, you understand. Not a challenge to the least of the gods. But in my way, I protected Aetos and the people in it. Their flocks increased. Springs ran sweet and abundant. Grass grew in its season.
One warm day as I bathed in the stream nearest the road, a youth passed by. When I was young and foolish, I delighted in watching the handsome young men in their shiny armor, so brave as the armies marched by. He was alone, this youth, unarmed, not even a sword. But full of pride he was, eager to fight for glory and to make a name for himself. More handsome than all that had passed before, he was, and I lost my heart to him. I opened his eyes and showed him a glimpse of my face. But he is mortal and I, a spirit, rooted in the land I love and protect. Too soon he was gone and I cried for the love I could not possess."
As she paused in her story, Hercules looked at Amalia. Her deeply lined face belied her words and he worried that her mind was clouded in her old age. Surely she had gotten Iolaus confused with a long lost love of her youth. "Old woman, my friend could not have known you as a maiden."
She shifted in her chair to rearrange her old bones. "Men see the sun rise, travel across the sky, and set in the sea to the west. This is how they order their lives, count their time on earth. But I am ruled by the moon. Each new moon I am created. As full moon I am woman and as its light wanes, well, you see me now as crone. I am one and three, virgin, fertile, and barren." She laughed and as Hercules watched, the years fell away and her face became maiden smooth. "Iolaus was that youth, Hercules, and he was under my protection from that day. What little harms life had for him, I prevented. When he journeyed with the Argonauts, my power barely touched him. Against the wickedness of Hera, I have no strength. But as best as I could, for as long as my powers were, I kept him safe for the love I bore him long ago."
"And now?" Hercules asked softly. "My powers grow ever weaker as my time as protectress nears an end. Soon I will become one with this mountain, forever overlooking my beloved village. That is why I summoned you here, Hercules. Through the years, you and I have kept him safe when possible. Now it is up to you alone. When the time comes, give this to Iolaus and tell him of my love for him." She placed a small copper triangle into his palm and folded his fingers around it. Deeply etched on the charm was an eye above three wavy lines. "This is the symbol of my protection. What power that remains to me is now in this charm. He must carry it always. When the time is right and I am gone, tell him what you now know to be true. The hour is late and I grow weary for my bed. Good bye, Hercules."
"But how will I know when the time is...when you are finally..?." He could not continue, but leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You will know" is all she said.
Hercules and Iolaus made their way back towards home. Iolaus dreaded returning to his house with so much work to be done. Although his foot was healing nicely and no longer pained him, he did not look forward to repairing his roof, filling the larder, and chopping wood. Not to mention washing dishes. It was enough to make him wish for a new monster tearing up the countryside. Now that was fun.
Hercules was first to notice the smoke coming from the chimney. New thatch was tied on and firewood stacked against the house. Fresh game hung in the kitchen. On the scrubbed table were loaves of bread and a pot of soup. Iolaus looked at Herc, puzzled beyond belief. "I don't understand."
"Put another log on the fire, sit with me, Iolaus, and I will tell you a true tale."
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