**Click on Back to return to the previous page.

title: Exit Strategy
author: Owlharp
author's email: owlharp@juno.com

Author's Note: I suppose I need to apologize for this particular story in 
advance, but it was one of those situations where the logic of the story was so
frighteningly obvious that it just wouldn't go away until I had written
it down. I guess you can say that this one is rated "G" for "Gross"! Definitely 
not for the faint of heart or the weak of stomach - don't say I didn't warn you! 

******

   The darkness was impenetrable; it surrounded and suffocated him.
It was the palpable blackness of a pit in a prison, into which he
and Hercules had been cast. Once the wooden hatchcover banged down
on the hole in the ceiling above them there was no light at all -
it might as well have been a grave. 

"OK, so here we are, sitting in a pitch-dark dungeon with a bunch
of condemned prisoners, and all of us have a date with the
executioner the day after tomorrow!"     

"Yeah - Plan A went just as we hoped!" Hercules' voice came out of
the darkness behind Iolaus. 

Iolaus leaned against the chilly stone wall which was slick with 
something that was probably better left undetermined, and sighed.
"Tell me again what was the point of getting ourselves into a fight
with the Thessalonian Tyrant's elite guards, deliberately losing
it, and getting tossed into the Prison Labyrinth, huh?"

"Because that was the fastest way to find Prince Acamas."

"You seek the Prince?" came a soft voice out of the blackness
further away from them. 

"Yes."

Another voice - hoarse and full of pain - said, "Well ... you've
found me...".There was a sound, as though someone tried to get up
and then fell back with a moan. 

"My prince - you must not try and move..." came the first voice.
"Your wound is festering already". 

A grim laugh rang out. "The headsman will heal me!"

"You're injured?" asked Iolaus. 

"A spear-thrust to my thigh," came the hoarse voice. "That's how 
the Thessalus' soldiers caught us. If my men had retreated into the
forest like I told them to - "

"We were not going to leave you, my prince", interrupted the soft
voice. There was a murmur of assenting voices from various places
in the smothering blackness.

"Anyway, gentlemen -  who are you? And why did you wangle
yourselves an invitation to join our little party with the axe?"

"My name is Hercules. This is my friend Iolaus. We're here to
rescue you and your fellow rebels from the Prison Labyrinth." 

"Glad to meet you," said Prince Acamas."Wish it could have been
under better circumstances. And - don't take this wrong - but just
how the hell are you planning to rescue us?"

Hercules pushed thoughtfully against the heavy stones of the
Labyrinth walls. "Good question. I'm working on the answer".  

"How many of you are there?" asked Iolaus.

Prince Acamus answered promptly. "Six. Four of us - including me -
are wounded to some degree."

"Six ..." Hercules said, ruminating. "Well, that's going to change
things a little bit. We were figuring it was just you". 

A wry chuckle came out of the darkness. "Yeah. I told these clowns
to leave me and get away, but they never listen - ". 

The soft voice interrupted him. "We never heard the order, sir". 

Acamus snorted. "When we get out of here, Philemon, I'm going to
personally wash your ears out, so you'll hear better next time!"

"Yes, sir". 

Iolaus could hear the smile in the prince's voice. A worthy
commander, he thought to himself. Someone worth following.
Certainly someone worth rescuing. 

  The original plan that he and Hercules had discussed was to get
themselves tossed into the Prison Labyrinth, find Prince Acamus and
then sneak their way out if they could, or fight their way out if
they must. That Herc remembered the way out, Iolaus was confident,
even if they had been blind-folded when the Thessalonian Guard
hauled them through the endless corridors of the Labyrinth and
lowered them down into the dank cell that held the condemned. But
tactics that would work for three were useless for eight,
especially when half of them were wounded. Even the half-god's
strength was no insurance that they would get out of the prison
without losing someone in the process.  

   Iolaus could sense that his friend had come to the same
conclusion. Hercules murmured in his ear, "OK, we gotta make some
changes to plan B".

  "Any ideas?"
 
   "Well, with this group, in the condition they're in, anything we
do is going to have to be very quiet. Fighting our way out is a
last-ditch option".     
   
   "True." Prince Acamus had been listening to the conversation.
"The good news is, if we can make it out of here and into the
Thessalian Forest, we'll be safe. The Thessalus' men won't dare to
follow us there.  There's one of my archers behind every tree - or
so they think!" 

   "So it's just a matter of breaking us out - ", began Hercules,
but another voice interrupted him. 

   "You're the son of Zeus, aren't you? The strongest man in the
world? Why can't you just knock the walls down?!"  The voice was
young, with the thinnest layer of bravado overlaying fear.

  Acamas spoke sharply. "Catreus, use your head, boy! Knocking down
walls is noisy and attracts attention!"

  "Let's save that for a last resort, OK?" Hercules added.

  "What's that?" said Iolaus suddenly. For a while now he had been
aware of a dim glow coming from the floor in one corner of the
cell. At first he had thought it was the dark playing tricks on his
eyes, but now it had brightened to the point where he could just
barely make out the dimensions of their cell and the figures
slumped on the floor.

  Acamas chuckled grimly. "It's the only illumination we get here.
The Thessalus doesn't waste torches on condemned men."

   "But where's it coming from?" persisted Iolaus. A burst of
laughter - genuine, this time - came from his fellow prisoners, as
he walked over to the corner and crouched down over the source of
the illumination, only to reel backwards from the stench that
struck him like an armored fist. The light proved to be coming up
from ... 

   "The shit-hole!" A man whom Hercules now recognized from his
voice as Philemon, walked over to Iolaus and gave a burlesque bow.
"We have all the comforts of home! Do avail yourself!" 

   Iolaus ignored the snickering from various corners of the cell
and kept staring down the hole. "Herc," he said softly. "That's
sunlight". 

   Hercules' face was suddenly visible in the wan glow. "Yeah", he
agreed after a moment. "That means the outside world can't be too
far away."

   "And listen!" Iolaus raised a commanding hand and his companions
fell silent. "Can you hear it?"

   Heedless of the smell, Hercules put his head closer to the hole.
"Running water..." he said finally.

   "There must be a sewer channel under us."

   Their eyes met in the dim light.  
   
   Iolaus said softly, "You're going to have to make that hole a
lot bigger, you know."

    "Not a problem." Hercules flexed his fist and studied the slimy
flagstones that rimmed the hole. There was a flash of motion, a
loud CRACK! and one of the flagstones suddenly lay in pieces. 

   "What the hell?!" came from various corners of the cell. 

    Iolaus grinned in the dim light. "Prince Acamas, I think we've
just found the way out". 

********************************************************

     "More soaproot, please!"
     "Iolaus, you've scrubbed yourself raw!"
     "I can still smell myself". 
     "Well, no one else can."
     "That's 'cause you smell just as bad!" 
     "No, I don't!"
     "Yes, you do!" 
     
   "Get our guests some more soaproot!" Prince Acamas' voice came
from where he lay on a low bed near the bathhouse fire. "Get them
anything they damn well want. We owe them!" He grimaced as the
healer firmly tied off the bandage around his thigh. "And while
you're at it, get us some more wine! And how's that venison coming,
anyway? We've got a lot of very hungry people here!"

   They were in the encampment of Acamas' rebels, deep in the thick
pine forests of Thessaly, where they had arrived just as the sun
did, to be greeted with shouts of delight and shudders of disgust.

   The escape had been unique in Hercules' and Iolaus' experience
and it had almost not taken place at all. While Hercules was
occupied with bashing the floor-stones into gravel and enlarging
the privy-hole, Iolaus had explained their plan, only to be met
with disbelief and near-mutiny by some of Acamas' men. 

   "It's undignified!" complained Philemon. "I'm a warrior! It's
one thing to die on the battlefield, but to be smothered in - "

   "You're not GOING to be smothered!" interrupted Iolaus, hanging
firmly on to his temper.

   "No, you're not!" cut in Acamas. "What's your problem, Philemon?
You'll face an axe, but turn tail at the sight of a turd? Well,
hold your nose and stiffen your spine, soldier! I'm going down that
hole and you are going to follow me. All of you are! Is that
clear?" 
    "Sir."
    "Sir."
    "Sir."
    One by one the men answered - last of all, Philemon. Acamas,
whom the growing light revealed to be a stocky, bearded man with a
mane of greying black hair, turned back to Iolaus and grinned.
"Why, I think we're all agreed here! I'm much obliged to you and
your friend for making us an escape route. And WHEN we get back to
our encampment" - he shot a stern glance at Philemon "- it will be
my pleasure to offer you my hospitality - and a bath!"
    Iolaus returned the grin. "Speaking for Herc and me - it'll be
our pleasure to accept!" 


   The stench had been utterly unbelievable.  

   Hercules had widened the privy hole and discovered that it ran
two man-lengths deep and opened out into a brick-lined tunnel,
barely half a man high. Rushing water filled it to within two
handspans of the roof, and it smelled as only a sewer carrying the
filth of a prison could smell. At some point in the journey, every
single one of them had had to stop and, unashamed, heave their guts
out, sickened by the vile atmosphere around them.  
   They crawled through the noxious stream, bent over, faces tilted
upward at a neck-breaking angle to enable them to breathe. The air
was thick, the water stinking and icy-cold, and the whole situation
would have been intolerable if there had not been sunlight - the
clean, red-gold of sunset - filtering through a stone grating a
short distance ahead of them. 
    They had waited, shivering, until dark. 
    With a single blow of his now-bleeding fist, Hercules had
shattered the last stones between them and freedom, and they
crawled out into the open air, which smelled sweeter than
Aphrodite's perfume. 
   With Acamas carried on Hercules' back and the others helping the
rest of the wounded along, they had crept across the open field
surrounding the Prison Labyrinth and disappeared into the welcoming
arms of the Thessalian Forest.


     Within an hour of their return, rescuers and the rescued were
immersed in tubs of hot water, while their clothes were being
scrubbed and boiled in cauldrons. Baskets of soaproot and vials of
sweet oil were brought to the bath-house at Acamas' command. It
took 3 tubs of hot water and an entire basket of soaproot before
Iolaus was convinced that he was clean again. 

  The next morning the two heroes set out on the road again,
bellies full of venison and ale, ears full of gratitude from the
rescued rebels. 

   "Iolaus, would you quit sniffing? You're clean - honest!"
   "Herc, I think I can still smell it in my hair!"
   "So shave your head!"
   "You think?"
   "Iolaus, that was a joke!"
   "Herc, promise me one thing."
   "What's that?"
   "Next time we get ourselves tossed in prison, just go ahead and
knock down the walls, OK?"
   "Deal". 
    


        
        
    
        
 From Owlharp
From: Owlharp
To: adrianne@thedoghousemail.com
Subject: Can I check this with you?
X-Status: Unsent

Hi Adrianne!

I wanted to check the story below with you before posting it on the IML.
Do you think it is within the PG-13 boundaries? I don't want to offend
anyone!

Love to ya!
Owlie
**********************************************
Exit Strategy
by Owlharp

   The darkness was impenetrable; it surrounded and suffocated him.
It was the palpable blackness of a pit in a prison, into which he
and Hercules had been cast. Once the wooden hatchcover banged down
on the hole in the ceiling above them there was no light at all -
it might as well have been a grave. 

"OK, so here we are, sitting in a pitch-dark dungeon with a bunch
of condemned prisoners, and all of us have a date with the
executioner the day after tomorrow!"     

"Yeah - Plan A went just as we hoped!" Hercules' voice came out of
the darkness behind Iolaus. 

Iolaus leaned against the chilly stone wall which was slick with 
something that was probably better left undetermined, and sighed.
"Tell me again what was the point of getting ourselves into a fight
with the Thessalonian Tyrant's elite guards, deliberately losing
it, and getting tossed into the Prison Labyrinth, huh?"

"Because that was the fastest way to find Prince Acamas."

"You seek the Prince?" came a soft voice out of the blackness
further away from them. 

"Yes."

Another voice - hoarse and full of pain - said, "Well ... you've
found me...".There was a sound, as though someone tried to get up
and then fell back with a moan. 

"My prince - you must not try and move..." came the first voice.
"Your wound is festering already". 

A grim laugh rang out. "The headsman will heal me!"

"You're injured?" asked Iolaus. 

"A spear-thrust to my thigh," came the hoarse voice. "That's how 
the Thessalus' soldiers caught us. If my men had retreated into the
forest like I told them to - "

"We were not going to leave you, my prince", interrupted the soft
voice. There was a murmur of assenting voices from various places
in the smothering blackness.

"Anyway, gentlemen -  who are you? And why did you wangle
yourselves an invitation to join our little party with the axe?"

"My name is Hercules. This is my friend Iolaus. We're here to
rescue you and your fellow rebels from the Prison Labyrinth." 

"Glad to meet you," said Prince Acamas."Wish it could have been
under better circumstances. And - don't take this wrong - but just
how the hell are you planning to rescue us?"

Hercules pushed thoughtfully against the heavy stones of the
Labyrinth walls. "Good question. I'm working on the answer".  

"How many of you are there?" asked Iolaus.

Prince Acamus answered promptly. "Six. Four of us - including me -
are wounded to some degree."

"Six ..." Hercules said, ruminating. "Well, that's going to change
things a little bit. We were figuring it was just you". 

A wry chuckle came out of the darkness. "Yeah. I told these clowns
to leave me and get away, but they never listen - ". 

The soft voice interrupted him. "We never heard the order, sir". 

Acamus snorted. "When we get out of here, Philemon, I'm going to
personally wash your ears out, so you'll hear better next time!"

"Yes, sir". 

Iolaus could hear the smile in the prince's voice. A worthy
commander, he thought to himself. Someone worth following.
Certainly someone worth rescuing. 

  The original plan that he and Hercules had discussed was to get
themselves tossed into the Prison Labyrinth, find Prince Acamus and
then sneak their way out if they could, or fight their way out if
they must. That Herc remembered the way out, Iolaus was confident,
even if they had been blind-folded when the Thessalonian Guard
hauled them through the endless corridors of the Labyrinth and
lowered them down into the dank cell that held the condemned. But
tactics that would work for three were useless for eight,
especially when half of them were wounded. Even the half-god's
strength was no insurance that they would get out of the prison
without losing someone in the process.  

   Iolaus could sense that his friend had come to the same
conclusion. Hercules murmured in his ear, "OK, we gotta make some
changes to plan B".

  "Any ideas?"
 
   "Well, with this group, in the condition they're in, anything we
do is going to have to be very quiet. Fighting our way out is a
last-ditch option".     
   
   "True." Prince Acamus had been listening to the conversation.
"The good news is, if we can make it out of here and into the
Thessalian Forest, we'll be safe. The Thessalus' men won't dare to
follow us there.  There's one of my archers behind every tree - or
so they think!" 

   "So it's just a matter of breaking us out - ", began Hercules,
but another voice interrupted him. 

   "You're the son of Zeus, aren't you? The strongest man in the
world? Why can't you just knock the walls down?!"  The voice was
young, with the thinnest layer of bravado overlaying fear.

  Acamas spoke sharply. "Catreus, use your head, boy! Knocking down
walls is noisy and attracts attention!"

  "Let's save that for a last resort, OK?" Hercules added.

  "What's that?" said Iolaus suddenly. For a while now he had been
aware of a dim glow coming from the floor in one corner of the
cell. At first he had thought it was the dark playing tricks on his
eyes, but now it had brightened to the point where he could just
barely make out the dimensions of their cell and the figures
slumped on the floor.

  Acamas chuckled grimly. "It's the only illumination we get here.
The Thessalus doesn't waste torches on condemned men."

   "But where's it coming from?" persisted Iolaus. A burst of
laughter - genuine, this time - came from his fellow prisoners, as
he walked over to the corner and crouched down over the source of
the illumination, only to reel backwards from the stench that
struck him like an armored fist. The light proved to be coming up
from ... 

   "The shit-hole!" A man whom Hercules now recognized from his
voice as Philemon, walked over to Iolaus and gave a burlesque bow.
"We have all the comforts of home! Do avail yourself!" 

   Iolaus ignored the snickering from various corners of the cell
and kept staring down the hole. "Herc," he said softly. "That's
sunlight". 

   Hercules' face was suddenly visible in the wan glow. "Yeah", he
agreed after a moment. "That means the outside world can't be too
far away."

   "And listen!" Iolaus raised a commanding hand and his companions
fell silent. "Can you hear it?"

   Heedless of the smell, Hercules put his head closer to the hole.
"Running water..." he said finally.

   "There must be a sewer channel under us."

   Their eyes met in the dim light.  
   
   Iolaus said softly, "You're going to have to make that hole a
lot bigger, you know."

    "Not a problem." Hercules flexed his fist and studied the slimy
flagstones that rimmed the hole. There was a flash of motion, a
loud CRACK! and one of the flagstones suddenly lay in pieces. 

   "What the hell?!" came from various corners of the cell. 

    Iolaus grinned in the dim light. "Prince Acamas, I think we've
just found the way out". 

********************************************************

     "More soaproot, please!"
     "Iolaus, you've scrubbed yourself raw!"
     "I can still smell myself". 
     "Well, no one else can."
     "That's 'cause you smell just as bad!" 
     "No, I don't!"
     "Yes, you do!" 
     
   "Get our guests some more soaproot!" Prince Acamas' voice came
from where he lay on a low bed near the bathhouse fire. "Get them
anything they damn well want. We owe them!" He grimaced as the
healer firmly tied off the bandage around his thigh. "And while
you're at it, get us some more wine! And how's that venison coming,
anyway? We've got a lot of very hungry people here!"

   They were in the encampment of Acamas' rebels, deep in the thick
pine forests of Thessaly, where they had arrived just as the sun
did, to be greeted with shouts of delight and shudders of disgust.

   The escape had been unique in Hercules' and Iolaus' experience
and it had almost not taken place at all. While Hercules was
occupied with bashing the floor-stones into gravel and enlarging
the privy-hole, Iolaus had explained their plan, only to be met
with disbelief and near-mutiny by some of Acamas' men. 

   "It's undignified!" complained Philemon. "I'm a warrior! It's
one thing to die on the battlefield, but to be smothered in - "

   "You're not GOING to be smothered!" interrupted Iolaus, hanging
firmly on to his temper.

   "No, you're not!" cut in Acamas. "What's your problem, Philemon?
You'll face an axe, but turn tail at the sight of a turd? Well,
hold your nose and stiffen your spine, soldier! I'm going down that
hole and you are going to follow me. All of you are! Is that
clear?" 
    "Sir."
    "Sir."
    "Sir."
    One by one the men answered - last of all, Philemon. Acamas,
whom the growing light revealed to be a stocky, bearded man with a
mane of greying black hair, turned back to Iolaus and grinned.
"Why, I think we're all agreed here! I'm much obliged to you and
your friend for making us an escape route. And WHEN we get back to
our encampment" - he shot a stern glance at Philemon "- it will be
my pleasure to offer you my hospitality - and a bath!"
    Iolaus returned the grin. "Speaking for Herc and me - it'll be
our pleasure to accept!" 


   The stench had been utterly unbelievable.  

   Hercules had widened the privy hole and discovered that it ran
two man-lengths deep and opened out into a brick-lined tunnel,
barely half a man high. Rushing water filled it to within two
handspans of the roof, and it smelled as only a sewer carrying the
filth of a prison could smell. At some point in the journey, every
single one of them had had to stop and, unashamed, heave their guts
out, sickened by the vile atmosphere around them.  
   They crawled through the noxious stream, bent over, faces tilted
upward at a neck-breaking angle to enable them to breathe. The air
was thick, the water stinking and icy-cold, and the whole situation
would have been intolerable if there had not been sunlight - the
clean, red-gold of sunset - filtering through a stone grating a
short distance ahead of them. 
    They had waited, shivering, until dark. 
    With a single blow of his now-bleeding fist, Hercules had
shattered the last stones between them and freedom, and they
crawled out into the open air, which smelled sweeter than
Aphrodite's perfume. 
   With Acamas carried on Hercules' back and the others helping the
rest of the wounded along, they had crept across the open field
surrounding the Prison Labyrinth and disappeared into the welcoming
arms of the Thessalian Forest.


     Within an hour of their return, rescuers and the rescued were
immersed in tubs of hot water, while their clothes were being
scrubbed and boiled in cauldrons. Baskets of soaproot and vials of
sweet oil were brought to the bath-house at Acamas' command. It
took 3 tubs of hot water and an entire basket of soaproot before
Iolaus was convinced that he was clean again. 

  The next morning the two heroes set out on the road again,
bellies full of venison and ale, ears full of gratitude from the
rescued rebels. 

   "Iolaus, would you quit sniffing? You're clean - honest!"
   "Herc, I think I can still smell it in my hair!"
   "So shave your head!"
   "You think?"
   "Iolaus, that was a joke!"
   "Herc, promise me one thing."
   "What's that?"
   "Next time we get ourselves tossed in prison, just go ahead and
knock down the walls, OK?"
   "Deal". 
    
End

*If you enjoyed this story, remember to send feedback, it's the only payment our 
author's get. you can find the author's email address at the beginning of this 
story. 

*Some images, characters and other things used in these works are the property 
of others, including but not limited to Renaissance Pictures and Universal 
Studios. Everything else remains the property of the artist or author. No money 
will be made on anything appearing on this webpage and no copyright infringement 
is intended. This site was created by fans for the enjoyment of other fans.

*For information on reprinting text and/or artwork (including privately owned 
photos, photo manipulations, and other images) from this website, please contact 
the author or Ceryndip (ceryndip@juno.com), who will assist you in contacting 
the original creator of the piece. Do NOT reprint, republish, or in any way link 
to items on these pages without obtaining permission from either the original 
creator of the piece or the webpage owner. A written one-time use statement may 
be issued to you at the discretion of the artist or the author. Please respect 
the legal and artistic rights of our contributors.