“Iolaus, calm down,” Hercules advised his friend as they waited for Jason to finish introducing the hunter to the assembled students of the Academy.
“Easy for you to say,” Iolaus snorted, straightening his vest nervously, and unnecessarily. “You’re not standing here waiting to humiliate yourself in front of a bunch of teenagers. How did I let Jason talk me into this, any way?”
“How about; you owe him big time for keeping Iphicles from killing you over that ambassador’s wife?” the demigod suggested. “You almost caused an international incident running off with her, and in the middle of trade negotiations.”
“That wasn’t my fault!” Iolaus protested. “She never said anything about a husband.” He shrugged as he reminisced. “Of course, I never really asked and we never got further than the public garden, anyway. That’s no reason for me to be roped into giving the keynote address to the graduating students.”
“I’d say the fact that you still sing alto and not soprano is a pretty good reason,” Hercules said, giving his partner a sidelong look. “If you need more, how about this: this is Niko’s graduating class. You know how much he looks up to you.”
The compact warrior gave his big friend a startled look. He had completely forgotten!
“Niko! Is he that old already? Time really does fly!”
“Yup. He’s graduating with top honours, thanks to you.”
Iolaus shook his head at the memory. Niko, a street kid with an almost visible chip on his shoulder. Abandoned by his father, forced to fend for himself at much too young an age, he had become a petty thief. Iolaus had searched him out so that he could have one last word with the dying man who had sired him. At first, the boy had refused to come, walking away from his father in a manner similar to how the father had walked out on him. But in the end, Niko had made his way to the cave where Cassus lay, trapped under a boulder. There was just time enough left reconcile.
The whole experience had made a profound impression on the young man, so much so that, a few weeks later, confused, angry, lonely and frightened all at once, he had searched out Iolaus. Niko had begged the warrior for answers. As a former street punk himself, the hunter could understand exactly where the youth was coming from, and what direction his life needed to head if he was to avoid his father’s fate. There were many options open to Niko, the trick was to find the right one. To that end, Iolaus and Niko put their heads together with Hercules and came up with what had turned out to be the best solution: Chieron’s Academy.
Over the following years, in a desperate effort to overcome his past, Niko had worked harder than any of his classmates at any task given to him. The effort paid off handsomely in that he had earned the trust and respect of his peers and teachers alike, had proven himself worthy of the sponsorship of his mentor and was one of the most capable warriors the Academy had ever produced. Hercules was right: the least Iolaus could do was honour the young man’s considerable accomplishment.
Iolaus sighed. “All right. I’ll do it for Niko. I’d like him to know that I’m proud of him.”
“He’s definitely headed in the right direction. And speaking of directions, you’re on, Buddy!”
Jason had indeed finished introducing his friend and was stepping away from the podium. He smiled and nodded to Iolaus and joined in the general applause from the audience of graduates, parents, alumni and assorted guests.
Iolaus took a deep breath, straightened his back and marched determinedly to the podium. He barely heard Hercules’ whispered “Good luck!” as he went.
His heart hammering in his chest, the hunter stepped up onto the raised platform that served as a stage for this occasion. Story telling in taverns was one thing, but he had always hated ‘public’ speaking, usually leaving that task to his much more loquacious partner when the occasion arose.
He nodded his thanks to Jason, set down his speech scroll and looked out over the young people sitting in neat rows in front of him. Sure enough, Niko was right out in front, an ear-to-ear smile of anticipation splitting his handsome face. Iolaus met his eye and winked back at him. How could anyone resist giving this extraordinary young man the pat on the back that he deserved, even if it meant possibly looking foolish in front of a bunch of teenagers?
The hunter mentally squared his shoulders. ‘For Niko!’ he told himself, cleared his throat and began.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the graduating class of Chieron’s Academy for Warriors.
Wear leather pants.
If I could offer you just one tip for the future, trousers would be it. The advantages of long pants over short or long togas have been proven over and over again by men on both the battle field and the wheat field, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own years as a wandering hero and warrior.
Hmmm. Come to think of it, that’s a pretty good basis! So listen up!
Beware the power and beauty of the gods. Never mind. Most of you will never see any real manifestation of any of the pantheon. But trust me – if over the next 20 years or so you do run across some deity, get away from him or her before they have a chance to consider how they could possibly use you. I know that they can appear fabulous, but they are not as much fun as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; it will get here soon enough. I know you’ll probably just worry anyway, but realize now that worrying is about as effective as trying to catch a fish by plowing a field. The real troubles in your life are most likely to be complete surprises – like the aforementioned gods deciding to liven up their lives by messing up yours.
Do one thing every day that scares you, with or without monsters.
Sing.
Don’t be concerned if you’re on or off key, just put your head back and let fly. Believe me, you’ll feel better for it.
Bathe. Upon occasion. Whether you need it or not.
Don’t waste your time being jealous of another warrior’s skill. Skill is given to everyone according to his or her measure. Sometimes you will excel over your peers, sometimes they will excel over you. It’s all relative when you arrive at the battle field. Go for your personal best and that will be all that anyone will ask of you.
Remember the best fishing holes you’ve ever found. Forget where the worst battles have been fought and the things you saw there. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love charms. Throw away your old accounts.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if your past is somewhat checkered. The most noble and trustworthy people I know now started out in life as thieves and murderers. Some of the most colourful characters I know are still con men and thieves yet when the chips are down you can count on them to watch your back.
Get plenty of fresh game.
Take care of your sword. It’s too late to say you’re sorry if the thing breaks in the middle of a battle due to poor maintenance.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll leave your family to go to war and never return, living or dead. Maybe you’ll end your days as a peaceful farmer, surrounded by children and grandchildren. Whatever you do, don’t thank the gods for your good fortune or berate them for your misfortune. They had nothing to do with it. How you live your life is by your choice, and your choices are your own.
So are everyone else’s.
Enjoy festivals whenever you can. Let go, kick back and party down whenever the opportunity presents itself. You never know when the last festival you attended will be the last festival you attend.
Dance. Even if you never meet the widow Twanky and have no place to do so but a clearing in the woods.
Learn to recognize warning signs of danger ahead, even if you don’t heed them.
Do not compare yourself to sculptures of the gods, they will only make you feel ugly.”
Iolaus paused to sip at the water mug at his hand. Actually, he thought, things were not going so badly. The students were absolutely silent, and it was a respectful, listening silence. Several of them were nodding in agreement or smiling appreciatively at the hunter’s words of collected wisdom.
He had spent a long time over his speech, desperate to avoid sounding preachy, yet eager to pass on hard-won knowledge from years of being a wandering warrior and partner to a demigod. It had been very tempting to fall into cliches like, “Together we’ll make it through!” or “We are all brothers and sisters in arms!” or some such. But after several sleepless nights, too much torn up parchment and a few discussions with Hercules and Jason, he had decided to keep it as simple as possible. He smiled smugly to himself as he saw that he had taken the right course after all. The kids were eating this up!
After another sip of water, it was time to press on.
“Get to know your parents and those of your best friends,” he continued. “Find out how their lives were shaped, and so understand how it was that they influenced your life and the lives of those around you. If you happen to have siblings, keep on the best terms that you can with them, even if you think that you don’t like them much now. In the coming years, the best times you’ll have will be to sit with your brother and say, “Remember when we used to ...?”
Remember that siblings do not have to be born of the same parents.
Be aware that friends come and go, they’re a dinar a dozen. But there will always be that one, or two, who are special and those are the ones you’ll want to hang onto any way that you can. Keep them close by or keep in touch somehow because the longer you fight as a warrior, the more you appreciate having someone you’ve known and trusted all your life watching your back.
Live in Sparta once. They’re hard, militaristic people with anal retentive tendencies, so leave before they drive you crazy. Live in Athens once. Athenians are more reasonable, learned, philosophical and artistic, so leave before they make you too sane.
Travel. You never know where you’ll learn something that will save your life later on.
Accept certain inalienable truths: the gods are crazy, people in authority are not always right and, disturbing and farfetched as the concept may be, you, too, can die in battle. When you do, you’ll regale the other soldiers in the Asphodel fields that when you were young the gods were sane, the reigning king at the time had a level head on his shoulders and that new recruits respected their officers.
Respect your officers.
Don’t expect either peace or war to last forever. Maybe you’ll live on a remote mountain far away from civilization let alone conflict. Maybe you’ll be one of Ares’ chosen and fight in every war he has in mind. You never know when either of these situations will be invaded by their polar opposite.
Don’t get too concerned with your wardrobe. If treated well, whatever you’re wearing today will last you for many years. Mess too much with it, and in five or six years it will look older than you do.
Be careful who’s advice you buy, but be patient with those who give it. Advice is a very tricky thing, and dispensing it is like dragging the past from a dark, deep cave, giving it a pretty disguise and pretending that it isn’t a hydra.
But trust me on the long pants.”
Iolaus gathered his scroll up and stepped away from the podium. At first he thought that he hadn’t been as successful as he had assumed because there was still silence as he hopped down from the platform. But as soon as the students realized that he was indeed finished, they began to applaud. One by one, led by Niko, they rose from their seats and began to clap and cheer as loud as they could. Smiling, humbled and secretly very pleased with himself, Iolaus bowed deeply to his audience and left the stage to rejoin Hercules.
“That was great, my friend!” the demigod exclaimed, clapping the smaller man on the shoulder. “And from the sounds of things the young people thought so too!” He nodded toward the audience who were still clapping and cheering.
“Well, I just hope that I gave them something to think about,” Iolaus replied modestly. Inwardly he was patting himself heartily on the back and saying, ‘They like me! They *really* like me!”
The rest of the graduation ceremonies proceeded over the next half hour. The partners looked on with great pride as Niko took top honours for his achievements in both the physical and the academic aspects of his years of training. This young man was going to go far.
When all the awards had been presented, Niko joined Jason, Iolaus and Hercules to accompany them in to the celebratory feast.
“The best of luck to you, Niko,” Jason exclaimed as he clasped the young man’s wrist in warrior’s handshake. “Iphicles chose well when he called on you to join his palace guard.”
“I didn’t know he’d done that,” Hercules said, genuinely pleased, as he, too, greeted the youth with the traditional hand clasp of equals. “Congratulations! But why didn’t you tell us?”
Niko coloured slightly. “I didn’t want you to sway the king in any way,” he explained.
“I don’t really have that much influence over my brother’s decisions,” Hercules told him. “But if I did I’d certainly put in a good word for you. Jason’s right; Iphicles could do a lot worse than to have you in his guard.”
Niko hung his head shyly and blushed deeply. He had been very pleased when the king of Corinth had agreed to take him on as a junior soldier in his standing army. The fact that Hercules endorsed him was enough to make him stand taller and straighter. The look of pride in Iolaus’ eyes was enough to make the young man’s eyes sting with unshed tears of joy.
The hunter pulled Niko into a bear hug and thumped his back affectionately.
“Way ta go, Niko!” the older man enthused. “That’s wonderful news! I can’t think of anyone who deserves such a post more.”
When Iolaus finally let him go, the youth swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, as soon as he was able to speak. “I did the best I could all through my school years. I wanted to make you proud of me.”
Iolaus placed a friendly arm across Niko’s shoulder. “You have, kid, you definitely have!” he said with a laugh to cover his own emotions. “I know you’re going to go on making us all proud of you in Corinth, too.”
After the feast was finished there was much more chatter back and forth as classmates, former teachers and other well wishers approached Niko and his friends. The young men and women with whom he had shared his life for the last few years all made solemn promises to stay in touch, or to visit soon. The teachers could not resist one last chance to dispense advice and instruction while saying their good-byes to their pupil. There were many hugs, some kisses (some of them passionate) and more than a few tears as people parted to go their separate ways.
Iolaus, too, came in for his share of attention. His speech, meant for the edification of the young academy graduates had made an impression on more than one alumnus. He fielded endless questions concerning how he had gained so much wisdom over the years. Eventually he found himself in the centre of a circle of people, all listening eagerly to his stories in an effort to glean as much knowledge as they could from his experiences. Every time he came to the end of one adventure, people begged to hear more, and Iolaus happily complied with their demands. Consequently, it was very late when the last person finally said goodnight and Iolaus could make his way to the inn room that he was sharing with Hercules, who had retired hours earlier.
The demigod sat up as his partner entered the dark room.
“So how’d the story-telling go?” he asked with a yawn.
“Almost as well as my speech,” Iolaus answered smugly as he flopped onto his bed. He felt very tired after all that talking, but also very satisfied. He had always been willing to help people, but usually that meant in a physical way, either by fighting bad guys or killing a monster. It was a new and exhilarating experience to affect people with just his words. All that preparation and worry over his speech had certainly paid off!
Hercules watched his friend in the dark for a moment before he reached over and struck a flint to light the lamp by his bed. In the growing light he could see that although Iolaus was sprawled on his bed and seemed ready to sleep, his eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling.
“Care to talk about it?” Hercules asked casually.
“Um,” Iolaus said, noncommittally. He continued to stare straight up, blinking occasionally.
It didn’t take long before the hunter put into words the observation he had made that day.
“Herc,” he began, “I never realized just how much words can mean to someone before. I mean, I knew that words could hurt someone, sometimes just as badly as a sword can. But it never occurred to me just how much power one person can have to affect others for good and for bad using just something that they said. Niko and the other kids and a lot of their parents were really touched by my advice. I struck a chord! I can’t believe I did that!”
“Words have always been a powerful tool, my friend,” Hercules answered him. “Just think; most tyrants are more afraid of the dissenting writers and orators in their midst than they ever are of the military leaders who may oppose them.”
Iolaus thought about that for a moment.
“Yeah,” he said at last, “you’re probably right about that. But did you hear the way people were talking tonight? The teachers were still giving advice to their ex-students right up to the end, but not as much as they might have. Remember after our graduation? I didn’t think old Feducious would ever shut up! But the best thing was that the kids were actually analysing what they were hearing. That’s the best thing I think I did for anyone tonight was to make them think a little deeper!” he finished with a self satisfied smile.
Hercules looked thoughtful as he lay back down.
“Actually, I have to disagree with you on that one,” he said.
Iolaus frowned and finally looked over at his partner. Hercules had his hands behind his head and was staring thoughtfully at the ceiling in his turn.
“Wadya mean you disagree?” the hunter said indignantly. “Don’t you see how affecting the way people think is the most important thing we can do? Especially if it’s for the good?”
“That may well be,” Hercules said. “But I don’t think it’s the most important thing that you have achieved tonight.”
“And just what, pray tell, is the most important thing I’ve accomplished with my little speech?”
Hercules looked over at his partner in genuine surprise.
“Iolaus, isn’t it obvious?” the demigod said. “You have single handedly made sure that hundreds of young people do not die of embarrassment.”
“Huh?” Iolaus shook his head in bewilderment. He knew that he was inclined to ramble and that his mind twisted into incredible and unexpected ideas at times, whereas Hercules, while no less intelligent, was a straight-forward and pretty much by-the-book kind of thinker. But for the life of him Iolaus couldn’t see where his partner was going with this one.
“Togas,” Hercules explained. “None of them will be caught dead in a toga or a kilt after this day. Therefore, they will none of them die of embarrassment when one of the damn things flips up in an unexpected wind. I can’t think of a better influence anybody can have than that.” With that Hercules snuffed out the candle and settled himself back down to sleep.
Iolaus stared open mouthed at his partner. He couldn’t be serious! The hunter strained his ears in the dark, but he couldn’t detect any of the tell-tale signs that would indicate that the big man was chuckling to himself or even grinning like a fool as he was inclined to do when he thought he’d got away with something. He *was* serious!
“No togas?” Iolaus said incredulously. “No *togas?* Is that all you got out of all that?”
Now he could hear the big grin on Hercules’ face.
“Wasn’t that what you really wanted to say?” Hercules asked innocently. “Because Niko and I both thought the advice about the pants was pretty important. But don’t worry, I’m sure that the other kids will think hard before they give up on them completely.”
EPILOGUE:
There were a few complaints the next morning about thumping and bumping noises in the night, as well as a few muffled shouts and curses that people swore had come from the very room occupied by Hercules and his companion. The innkeeper pooh-poohed those stories, theorizing that the heroes in question would never dream of disturbing their neighbours in such a manner. He blamed the noises on ghosts which had plagued the inn off and on for several years. Most of the complainers cast him a sceptical look, grumbled a little more, paid their bill and left.
When the maid finally got to the room used by the demigod and the hunter, she was shocked to find that the pillows were torn and feathers were flying everywhere. It looked like someone, or two someones, had engaged in a vigorous and enthusiastic pillow fight. The maid tut-tutted the evidence of juvenile delinquency in two grown men and sighed at the amount of work she would have to do to put the room to rights before anyone else could use it. At least there was the compensation of a sizable tip waiting for her beside the bedside oil lamp.
As for Niko and his classmates, they all did well in the world outside the Academy, going on to become great warriors, soldiers, and statesmen and, in a few cases, powerful Amazons. They always thought hard about any advice they were given, weighing it carefully against their own experiences and those of the people that they respected.
And not one of them ever wore a toga in his or her life.
THE END
Disclaimer: The toga business was seriously hurt by Iolaus’ speech and several purveyors went bankrupt when they did not change specialties fast enough.
Iolaus’ speech is a parody of the track ‘Everybody’s Free (to Wear Sunscreen) by Tim Cox and Nigel Swanston. On the album ‘Baz Luhrman Presents Something for Everybody’
Further Disclaimer: If you think that I own any of the characters in this story, then you are in need of serious help. Go get it. This was written just for fun and to entertain other fans of Hercules, the Legendary Journeys.
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