This story is written in memory of my beautiful Malamute, Dante, who passed away on Nov 2, 2000. He was my heart and inspiration for this story and "The Wolf and The Hunter"- Regina
"I go to Nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in tune once more." - John Burroughs
CHAPTER 1
THE dawn's light painted soft pastel hues across the mist coated mountains. In the valleys, the fog still lay heavy, too thick to see clearly, where the sunlight had yet the opportunity to burn it off. A stream wended its way through the forest until it opened out into a small lake at the foot of the low peaks.
Early birds sang their morning litany or hunted for the early worm. Deer and other animals browsed within the myriad foliage of trees, flowers and thickets.
Seated atop a flat rock, jutting from cliff face, a lone figure scanned the terrain below. A brief blur of movement within the trees caught his attention. He waited patiently as the source of movement again revealed itself, somewhat closer this time.
Golden eyes tracked the progress of the pale-haired man who emerged briefly on the trail that ran parallel to the stream. The figure atop the precipice stretched languidly, then leapt to the ground, setting out on a course that would intercept the unsuspecting traveler.
Iolaus shifted his pack as he paused to breathe in deeply the pine-scented air. He closed his eyes briefly, smiling, as other aromas and fragrances found their way to his nose. There was something appealing to his free-spirited mein, that the openness of the fields and forests presented.
Having found a haven in their embrace in his youth, when life at home became too arduous to bear, Iolaus learned to hone his hunter's skills, that later lent themselves to his brief life of thievery in the city. Thanks to his best friend, he abandoned that course his path was taking, but never lost his love of the woodlands. He felt at home within their canopy and taught his companion to share that love.
He allowed his senses to reach out around him, testing the air and searching for the stream he could hear chuckling along its winding path through the mist. He was an excellent fisherman as well, and knew this stream to be a plentiful source. He shuddered slightly, a passing memory of his last venture through these woods, a painful reminder that, though outwardly serene, danger lurked unawares to the unsuspecting here. Iolaus resumed his travel, shaking off that thought and picked his way down to the water's edge. The mist was beginning to lift, the sunlight finally beginning to extend its reach to this deeper hollow.
He found himself a boulder lodged in the embankment, that would serve as an exceptional perch from which he could drop his line. The blond shrugged the pack off of his shoulder and rummaged inside for the makeshift fishing line. He had barely begun to unwind the string when a soft noise behind him caused him to turn around.
A huge, furry shape launched itself at his chest, slamming him backwards and off the rock. He landed with a huge splash in the stream, the cold, bracing water catching his breath. His head struck a rounded stone beneath the surface, temporarily stunning him. He sank, motionless, to the bottom.
The wolf stood on the rock, peering after him, his silvery coat glittering from the water drops coating it. The golden eyes narrowed when the man failed to surface. With a mighty leap, the animal plunged into the water, paddling towards Iolaus' still form. The wolf dove and grabbed part of the hunter's vest, towing him to the top and tugging him up into the reeds. The movement stirred Iolaus and he moaned, a fit of coughing wracking him. He lay half in and half out of the water, clearing his lungs from the liquid he'd swallowed. The wolf shook himself and bound up onto the rock, stretching out to warm himself.
Despite his disoriented state, Iolaus' warrior's training warned him that the threat still lingered and his hand automatically went for his boot knife. He scrabbled to his feet, searching for his assailant. His back was to the rock, and as he turned in that direction, he found himself staring into yellow eyes just inches from his face. His heart shot to his throat as the beast poked his muzzle forward and slathered him with a big, wet tongue.
The wolf made a little noise in his throat that sounded almost smug. He sat back on his haunches and panted, his mouth set in what Iolaus surmised was a wolf's equivalent of a grin.
"What the---?!", he rasped, then recognition dawned on him.
A mild wave of dizziness assailed him and he leaned on the rock for support. The wolf nosed his cheek gently, sensing he was injured. Iolaus touched his fingers gingerly to the raised lump on his scalp and came away with blood coating the tips. He again reached up and discovered the wound to be a shallow one. He would live. He nudged the wolf aside so he could join him in the sun, his pounding heart beginning to settle down.
"Well, old fella, hello to you too", he muttered wryly, dabbing the wound with a cloth from his pack. The wolf laid his head on the hunter's thigh, the golden eyes innocently staring into Iolaus' blue ones. Iolaus laughed at the expression on the wolf's face. He ran his fingers through the animal's wet fur.
"Don't give me that pitiful look, you fake. You're not the least bit repentant, but I forgive you anyway. How are ya, boy?", Iolaus crooned, hugging the wolf affectionately. The reply he received was another swipe of the wolf's tongue on his cheek. 1olaus studied the old wolf's face. A little more white rimmed his muzzle but he appeared more spry than when they'd last met. It had only been a few months since Iolaus had agreed to meet Hercules in the town where Hemnor and Herc's beautiful Serena lived.
Although Serena had passed on, Hemnor still lived in the sedate little town. The wolf had figured prominently in saving both Iolaus' and Hercules' lives, when local thugs robbed Iolaus and left him for dead. The wolf's den had sheltered Iolaus and the wolf had brought Hercules to him before the hunter could succumb to his wounds. In turn, the wolf's own arrow wound had been treated, giving him a new lease on life. All three had parted in a rare communion of nature, between man and beast.
Iolaus was delighted the old wolf still prowled these forests and was even more surprised the graceful creature remembered him.
He cupped the wolf's chin in the palm of his hand and gently shook it playfully. "You know, you could have at least waited until I caught some fish, then we could have shared dinner. My impromptu flop into the water has surely scared all of them away.
"Will you settle for some cooked rabbit instead, so I can dry out my clothes? What do you think, Silverfur?" the hunter explained. Iolaus smiled as the wolf's ears perked forward at the mention of food. 'Not that he could understand' - Iolaus thought to himself,'but then again, who knows? He nodded decidedly, liking the new name he dubbed his canine friend. He rose, saying, "You like that name, eh? So do I, so that's what I'll call you from now on. 'Hey wolf' just doesn't cut it."
The wolf stood also, stretching his long legs. 'Gods, he's huge!' Iolaus blinked in awe. 'Must have been a pack leader at one time.' He retrieved his line and stuffed it into the pack. Silverfur bound ahead of him, nosing around in the thicket in an attempt to coax rabbits or game birds from their hideouts.Iolaus followed more slowly, still a bit woozy from the crack on his skull. The bleeding had stopped but his head still hurt. He sipped from his waterskin.'Maybe a mild concussion' he thought sourly. He wasn't angry at the creature. In fact, it suddenly occurred to him that the wolf had once again saved his life, despite the fact that the wolf caused him to fall into the stream in the first place. Iolaus chuckled to himself at the irony and hurried to catch up to the furry hunter. Unbeknownst to him and Silverfur, another pair of predator eyes followed their progress from a distance. They, too, remembered both the man and the wolf. Remembered the humiliation by the little man's friend, the wolf that killed his brother and the newly enflamed revenge that burned evilly in the dark eyes.
CHAPTER TWO
In a clearing not far from Iolaus' location, the thief, Victus, sat honing his knives on a whetstone. He was a slovenly sort with ragged hair and an unkempt beard. His clothing was in no less despicable condition. He was missing several teeth and those he retained were yellow or decayed. Next to him lay two1 exceptionally large hunting hounds, with black,woolly coats. They were gnawing on several bones of questionable ownership, snarling at one another when the other attempted to snatch away his bone. Victus had as mean a streak as the hounds and whacked at them with a stick when they carried on so. The larger of the two yelped when the switch stung his rump, leaping away from his cruel owner, as far as his leash would allow. The other dog cringed away as well.
''Shaddup, ya mangy mutts, or I'll kick your butts from here to Corinth!" Victus growled at them. The dogs quieted and each went back to their treats .
The ruffian finished his task and sat back against a tree.
He was pondering the lack of dinars he and his cousin, Polus, had been able to steal of late, from the careless marks they targeted in these woods. Since they were all that was left of Prince Nestor's late army of cutthroats, Victus, Polus and Polus' dead brother, Bergus, had turned to robbery to acquire money to feed themselves and the hounds. Bergus had since been foolish enough to get himself killed by a wolf they'd shot and apparently was owned by a big, tall warrior, .whittling their number to two. They didn't know that shooting the little blond guy by the stream would also result in the big :guy coming after them.
Polus took his brother's death hard, swearing vengeance if he ever saw them again. Victus was wary of the two strangers but secretly agreed with his cousin over that issue. Victus had been the lucky one to get away when the wolf had attacked Bergus. He'd thought Polus was surely dead too, until he showed up at the rendezvous point, battered but alive. Polus had cursed him for running away, but they both were grateful the big man was more concerned about finding his friend than killing them. Neither stayed around long enough to find out if he did.
Victus studied the knife he held tightly, then sheathed it on his hip, satisfied by the fine edge. He kicked dirt on the small fire pit to completely extinguish the embers remaining. He glanced over at the dogs when they began to growl low in their throats and leapt to their feet. Victus swivelled his head in the direction they stared and he took cover behind the tree.
Polus appeared, ducking under some branches to make his way into the camp. The dogs whined and tugged on their leashes, in an effort to greet him. Polus petted the animals in passing as Victus stepped out from his hiding place. Polus paused and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"What are ya doin' back there?" he asked. Victus pretended to lace up his trousers.
" I was relievin' myself when the dogs started carryin' on."
"I didn't know for sure if it was you comin' or not. I thought it might be a mark we could rob." he said with a shrug.
Polus eyed him surly for a moment, then took a seat on a nearby fallen stump. "Come' ere." he stated, waving Victus to a rock. The scruffy man complied, noting the strange tone of his cousin's voice. Carefully he phrased his questions.
"So, what did you find while you was scouting? Anything worth goin' after? If you're hungry, I managed to snare us a rabbit." He offered the tender meat to his companion. Polus took it brusquely and began stuffing the meat into his mouth. Victus watched thoughtfully, noting a familiar gleam in Polus' dark eyes, He knew that look, one Polus always got when he was on the hunt. Tentatively he smiled. Polus must have found some rich noble dumb enough to pass this way on their way to Corinth.
"You found us a mark?" Victus queried, anticipation written allover his face. Polus paused in his eating and swallowed.
"Yes, I did, but it is not just a mark. It is THE MARK!" he replied, his teeth baring in a feral grin.
"The Mark?" Victus asked, somewhat confused. Polus smacked him in the head, disgusted.
"Yeah, you idiot!. The Mark. The little runt your stupid arrows couldn't kill! The guy whose stuff you took, who is friends with that giant behemoth that nearly strangled me to death! The little weasel who now runs with that mangy wolf that killed my brother! THAT MARK! He's back and I intend to finish him off this time. The bastard mutt, too. The dogs will have him for dinner!"
Victus' eyes grew wide with shock. So, the little fella did survive, as did the wolf. He had a vivid memory of the wolf ripping out Bergus' throat, his hand unconsciously going to his own throat. Polus noted the hand movement and nodded.
"Yeah, that mark. " His voice a deadly drawl. Victus swallowed hard.
"So, when do we go after him -- them ?" he ventured. Polus gathered his weapons and untied the leashes on the dogs. He shoved one into Victus' hand.
"What better time than the present for a good killing! " he gloated, then set out in the direction he'd just come, tugging on the bigger dog's lead to coax him to follow. Victus took up the rear with the other hound, the surge of adrenaline creeping up his spine.
"Yeah, a good day for a kill', he thought aloud. The blond guy had given them the slip, even with two arrows in him. Well, let's see how fast he can run against the hounds. He yanked the tether on his dog, in order to catch up to his companion. The hunt was about to begin.
CHAPTER THREE
"Here man is no longer the center of the world, only a witness, but a witness who is also a partner in the silent life of nature, bound by secret affinities to the trees." - Dag Hammarskjold
Hercules placed a small garland of yellow mountain blossoms around the stone cairn of Serena's grave. He had arrived only moments before to pay his respects. It had been several months since he and Iolaus came through this way and he had promised himself to visit whenever they were in the area. He also reminded himself that he would be more attentive of her grave than he had done with his first wife, Deianeira and their children. Hercules sighed. He'd buried too many loved ones because his stepmother, Hera, and half-brother, Ares hated his existence. Jealousy prompted both of them to act against him/and Zeus, his father, never seemed to be around or cared enough to stop them. The only ones who ever loved or gave a damn about him was his mother, Alcmene and his closest friend, Iolaus. Without them, his life would have been a lonely, bitter existence.
A pang of sorrow tugged at his heart, but he blew out his breath to shake the sadness. He reached out to touch the beautiful amber necklet he'd given to Serena at their wedding, the one he'd pounded into the granite cairn at her funeral, only it was no longer lodged in the stone. AlI that remained was the deep impression made by the chain.
Hercules felt his face grow heated as a slow rage burned within his chest. His lips tightened into a hard line and his hands into clenched fists. Grave robbers must have taken the precious gems, he concluded, examining the minute pry marks at the edges of the impression. Hercules swore under his breath. He'd find the thieves and get back the necklet.
He glanced around the quiet glade, extending his senses. It was common knowledge that ruffians often plagued travelers within these woods. It wasn't long ago that Iolaus fell victim to several of them. By his sheer sense of self-preservation and the help of a very unusual wolf, Iolaus managed to survive their attack until Hercules found him. .
The demigod wondered if letting the two remaining thugs go was such a great idea. At the time, though, Iolaus' welfare was his priority and he hadn't needed the extra baggage of two prisoners holding him back. The wounded wolf had led him to his dying friend in the nick of time and the three of them became fast friends. Hercules doubted that the thieves had learned their lesson, but there was nothing he could do now.
He whispered a soft good-bye to his beloved, then turned away. Hercules headed deeper into the forest. He would catch up to Iolaus, who had wanted to go fishing, to make up for the - time and fish lost on the last trek. Hercules had laughed and shaken his head at his friend's single-minded desire. Iolaus loved the outdoors and took advantage of every opportunity to hunt and fish. Hercules had grown up mostly near the city and learned to appreciate the open country at Iolaus' side. His smaller friend had spent his childhood evading his father's abuse by escaping to the wilderness. Iolaus learned to survive by reading the signs of the forests at an early age. He saw things in the bend of a twig or in animal droppings that pointed to the best places to hunt or those to avoid. Hercules was secretly in continued awe of his companion's prowess and tried to be an avid student as they grew to adulthood. Herc often appreciated those lessons later on when they proved effective. Coupled with his own god-given gifts, the extra insurance of the talented hunter's own abilities, gave them the added advantage over their opponents. To Hercules, it seemed that it had always been that way between them. They didn't need to waste time discussing a plan of action, merely, they simply acted in harmony, anticipating the other's needs.
No matter what the situation they faced, Hercules could always rely on Iolaus to back him up and vice-versa. With that thought in mind, Hercules began to follow the stream, a sure beginning that would likely lead him to his brother of his heart.
CHAPTER FOUR
"The woods were made for the hunter of dreams, the brooks for the fishes of song." - Sam Walter Foss
Iolaus and Silverfur dined happily on two rabbits apiece the wolf had run down. Another lay next to Iolaus' pack, as yet untouched. A tiny fire burned in a circle of stones Iolaus had fashioned, to prevent the flames from reaching the surrounding foliage. The hunter's vest hung from a branch nearby, in a large patch of sunlight to dry. He'd already emptied the residual water from his soggy boots and had set them aside by the fire.
He licked his fingers appreciatively and sighed, contented.
He studied the wolf with an affectionate grin. "Well, my friend, I thank you for that fine fare. Remind me to return the favor later. " he stated conversationally. Silverfur looked up from the bone he was chewing and barked once in reply. He went back to work, gnawing hungrily. Iolaus laughed and shook his head. He retrieved his boots and made a face. The leather was still damp but he donned them anyway. His vest fared better, the purple, faded fabric dry and warmed by the sun's rays. The air still held a slight chill, so the warmth felt good against his bronzed skin. As he bent to pick up the remaining rabbit, Silverfur leapt for it, the furred bundle between his teeth before 10laus could lay a hand on it. The hunter straightened up as the wolf carted his prize a. few feet away. He settled next to a tree, watching Iolaus.
"Hey, now, you needn't be so touchy. I was only going to put it away for safekeeping." he scolded gently. Silverfur didn't buy it and rose, heading off into the woods.
"Wait, already! Don't take it the wrong way, big fella. I swear I wasn't going to eat it without sharing!" Iolaus kicked out the fire, quickly gathered his belongings and stomped after the wolf, muttering to himself. The animal stayed ahead of him, slowing occasionally to look over his shoulder, keeping Iolaus in sight. When the hunter caught up, Silverfur would simply turn and lead him further on.
Curious now by the wolf's actions, Iolaus guessed that Silverfur had a definite destination in mind. Iolaus' presumption was confirmed when Silverfur came to a spot and halted before a small cave nestled in the leafy foliage. Iolaus glanced around the area with renewed interest. He recognized the cave as the same one he'd taken refuge in when he was sorely injured. He dropped his pack and sword and peered inside. Silverfur gently nudged past him, the rabbit held fast in his jaws. He heard the wolf whine softly and was surprised when a second whine answered. Several higher whimpers followed. Comprehension dawned on the man in a rush.
Iolaus sat back, a huge grin lighting up his face. Silverfur was a father! No wonder he grabbed the rabbit. Impulsively, Iolaus poked his head inside to catch a glimpse of the cubs and nearly lost his nose in the process. Silverfur's mate lunged at him with a snarl, driving him from the opening. Iolaus smacked his head on the cave rim in his haste to retreat, reopening the previous cut.
Despite the pain, he skittered away as fast as his arms and legs could take him. The female followed him out, teeth bared and green eyes enraged at the intrusion. Before she could attack him, Silverfur emerged and intervened, placing himself between the female and her intended prey.
The she-wolf growled at him in anger, but Silverfur nipped at her nose, snarling back. She stepped backwards, chastened, but her eyes never strayed from Iolaus. The warrior remained still, not sure what his next move should be. The male decided for him, first going to Iolaus and nuzzling his face. The hunter carefully stroked the wolf's thick coat in return. Silverfur then went to his mate and rubbed noses with her, allowing her to familiarize herself with the scent of the man. In what seemed an interminable amount of time, really only brief moments, the she-wolf again turned eyes on Iolaus. With an encouraging nudge from the larger male, the she-wolf approached Iolaus cautiously. Iolaus sat rock still, knowing instinctively that any sudden movement would either frighten or incite her.
She was a beautiful creature, long of leg and pure white in color. She crept closer, sniffing his pack. She pawed it once, then glanced at him. Silverfur made a small noise in his throat and nudged her again. This time she lowered herself to her belly and covered the remaining distance until she reached Iolaus' knee.
His left hand was propped atop it and he slowly opened his palm for her to see. She daringly laid her chin upon his hand.
Now Iolaus was more surprised. She allowed him to brush his thumb along the side of her muzzle in a gesture of friendship.
She, in turn, licked his palm. Iolaus relaxed and took a relieved breath. He raised his fingers and lightly scratched her be hind her ears. She rose and slid closer, tasting his cheek with her tongue. Iolaus' hands glided over her soft fur, He smiled, amazement replacing his initial fear. Her paw found his forearm and her eyes closed slightly at his gentle touch. Silverfur joined them, crowding in, until Iolaus giggled. It occurred to him that he'd just passed a very crucial test and had been accepted into their"pack". Iolaus reached out a hand to Silverfur, patting the huge male in thanks.
"I'll be your friend and never let anyone harm either of you", he vowed in a quiet voice. He did not know that, in the very near future, his promise would soon be put to the challenge.
CHAPTER FIVE
"The landscape is engorged with detail, every movement of it chillingly sharp. The air between people is charged. Days unfold, bathed in their own music. Nights become hallucinatory: dreams, prescient." -Gretel Ehrlich
Polus and Victus made their way along the stream until they found the spot Iolaus had met up with Silverfur. Upon detecting the scent of the wolf, the two hounds went wild and tugged eagerly at their leashes in the direction the pair had gone. Victus yanked his dog to heal, but Polus faced him with a toothy grin.
"Let 'em run. They're onto those two. They can't be too far ahead of us. All we need to do is follow.' Polus crowed with eager anticipation. "Let's go!" He untied the rope attached to the hound's collar. Victus did likewise and the hounds shot away into the brush.
Iolaus frolicked briefly with his canine friends, accepting their camaraderie with a new sense of awe. He marveled at his luck, wondering how he deserved this special encounter for the second time in his life. The she-wolf left briefly and returned with one of her three cubs in her mouth. She deposited the pup into Iolaus' lap. He scooped up the little one and snuggled it with tender glee. Mama stayed close to supervise while Iolaus delighted at her protectiveness. He stroked her sleek neck with affection, praising her on her motherhood. She allowed him to play with the cub for a few more minutes, before he relinquished it to her custody. She disappeared back into, the cave. Silverfur observed attentively, then glanced at Iolaus. Iolaus stretched out his hand.
"Come here, my friend. " he coaxed. Silverfur cuddled close, licking his face. "You've done well for yourself, old man. She and they are beautiful." he complimented. Silverfur grinned his wolf grin as if to say "Yes I have.' Iolaus giggled again and hugged him. The she-wolf reemerged and joined them, not to be denied any of the man's attention. Iolaus easily acknowledged her and heaped praises upon both of them.
He took the she-wolf's head between his his hands, studying her pale green eyes.
"What name shall I call you?" he pondered speculatively. A trick of the light in the mist made the wolf's white coat appear luminous. "I know", he concluded with another of his cheerful smiles. "You will be called Moonbeam, 'cause you shine like so. Yeah. What do you say to that, dear lady?" He continued to run his fingers through her luxurious fur. Her eyes met his intently for a scant moment, then she bowed her head, leaning into his caresses.
"I guess that means' yes' . " he chuckled. "Silverfur and Moonbeam. And in case you didn't know, I'm Iolaus." The wolves bathed his face with their tongues, eliciting another spate of laughter from him. After a few moments, however, Iolaus became aware of the stinging pain on his scalp. "Ouch" he muttered, reaching up to feel the wound. Sticky blood coated his fingertips again. He rooted in his carry sack for the cloth and his waterskin. He washed the cut as best as he could, chiding himself for his clumsiness.
When that task was completed, he sipped some water and admired the wolves as they lay side by side at his feet. At ease in their company, Iolaus chanced to doze in the fresh air and warm sun.
. One moment, they were relaxed and the next, their ears shot forward in alarm. Both jumped to their feet, baring their teeth and flattening their ears. Warned by the sudden change in their demeanor, Iolaus opened his eyes, fully alert and started to climb to his feet. He'd barely braced his hand to steady himself, when a monstrous, black shape crashed into him. He was bowled over and slammed into the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him.
For the third time that day, his head collided with a solid surface, sending stars dancing before his eyes. Instinctively, he raised an arm to shield his face. The beast's fangs breached his guard, sinking into his left shoulder. His cry of pain was drowned out by the vicious snarls of his attacker. The animal was trying to rip the flesh from his arm. Iolaus grimaced and forced his other forearm between the creature's chest and his own body, exerting every ounce of his strength to hold it back.
The two wolves pounced on the second hound as it followed its companion into the clearing.. A feverish struggle ensued among them as the wolves worked in unison to dispatch it. Moonbeam took a few bites as she tried several times to reach the hound's throat. Silverfur bit the animal's hind quarter, hoping to distract it from his mate. The dog reacted as expected and Moonbeam dove in for the kill. She clamped her jaws tight on its throat, even as it flailed to free itself. She stayed with it until its struggles subsided and it no longer moved.
Sensing that she had the upper hand, Silverfur turned to the larger hound pinning Iolaus to the ground. He launched himself with a powerful thrust, landing on the hound's exposed back. 1olaus felt the extra weight, forcing his forearm to drive into his chin. The hound's fangs released his shoulder and the beast swivelled its large head to seek this new threat. Silverfur had sought to catch the hound's neck from behind, but its brisk movement unseated him from his perch.
Believing itself free of the wolf, the dog resumed its assault on Iolaus. Dripping teeth found purchase in the helpless man's hair, opening a gash along the top of his head.
In that moment of terror, Iolaus was convinced that he would surely die and there was no one there to help him.
CHAPTER SIX
"With life I am on the attack, restlessly ferreting out each pleasure, foraging for answers, wringing from it even the pain. I ransack life, hunt it down." -Marita Golden
Hercules cupped his hand and scooped water from the stream *0 ease his thirst. It had been a couple of hours since he'd left Serena's grave and he looked forward to being with Iolaus again.
The stocky little hunter had been his rock and his strength for all of the time he'd known him. Iolaus somehow always sensed the right thing to say,when they needed to be said and when not to speak at all, whenever Hercules faced a crisis like the loss of his family and then Serena.
Hercules' fear for his friend's safety, because of Iolaus' association with him, was always a sensitive issue between them.
Iolaus insisted that he had a right to choose his friends and whatever risks it entailed were part of the package. It was that bond that cemented their relationship. Hercules respected Iolaus' commitment to their friendship and loved the man all the more for it.
He resumed his journey upstream, noting familiar landmarks from his previous visit . He recalled this part of the forest and the path, when he was led by the wolf to his den to rescue Iolaus.
While he was recovering, Iolaus had pointed out that he had found great trout within the stream, but had not the opportunity to enjoy them when he was attacked. Hercules smiled.
Iolaus' insatiable appetite for life, at whatever cost, never ceased to amaze him. Iolaus would put his hurts behind him and always looked forward with optimism.
Hercules entered a thicker copse of trees, his ears tuned to the subtle nuances of the forest. An eerie quiet had intruded on his senses, focusing his awareness on the lack of normal animal chatter. He paused and gazed about him. He saw nothing unusual but his skin prickled on the back of his neck. In the distance he detected the roar of animals in battle. He frowned. The conflict was intense by the sound of it. A chill ran up his spine.Iolaus was out there somewhere and he prayed his erstwhile companion was far enough away from it to be safe.
With his concentration occupied as it was, he almost missed the hiss of an arrow as it zipped past his head by mere inches.
The missile thudded into a tree trunk in front of him and he dove to the ground, rolling to his right. A second arrow pierced the air where his back had been, striking the same tree beneath the first. Herc scanned the area where the arrows had originated, from the cover of the tangled undergrowth. His jaw tightened in a slow rage, as his farseeing eyes picked out the two hunters probing the foliage for him.
Hercules sank lower, as far as his tall frame would allow, and waited. As the pair came into view, his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't believe his eyes. They were the same two thugs he'd tangled with before, the same minus one, who'd tried to kill his best friend and the same he was positive he'd not allow to do harm to anyone again. He huddled silently, the light brown of his hair and the tan and brown of his leather clothing, blending in with the natural surroundings. He heard their excited voices as they searched for him, assured that they had hit their target. He let them pass, before rising up and tapping each upon a shoulder.
"Looking for me?" , he asked pleasantly, although the expression in his blue eyes was anything but. The ruffians had only a split second's notice to recognize Hercules and realize that they had now become the prey. Two demigod fists, garbed in the gauntlets forged by Hephaestus, shot out to connect with each of their chins, sending both careening backwards. They tumbled to the ground, stunned.
Hercules strode forward and grabbed each by the throat, lifting them to meet him at eye level. "I see you haven't mended your ways, since we last met, have you, idiots?" he growled, shaking them hard. Neither could answer him, since he clung to their necks like a vise. With a disgruntled grunt, he pinned their backs against a large tree. Spotting a rope dangling from the satchel one of them carried, Hercules released the man's throat and snatched the end. The fool tried to use the opportunity to escape but Hercules merely stuck out his foot and tripped him up. He hauled the man to his feet without letting go of the other and lashed them unceremoniously to the trunk. They cursed him fluently as he stood facing them. The warrior tolerated their ranting for a time, but soon tired of their chatter. He slapped them across the face to shut them up. The suddeness proved effective and they stared sullenly at him.
"Now which of you is going to answer my question?" he tried again. The dark eyed one spat at him. Herc sent him to dreamland with a punch the man never saw coming. The scruffy one's mouth dropped open as he cringed in his fetters.
"Don't hit me, please! " he begged. Hercules glared at him, hands on hips.
"Cowardly as usual. " he stated with disgust. "Why did you attack me again? Can't you stay out of trouble?"
Victus lowered his eyes. "WE needed the money." he muttered.
"Not an excuse. Try again. " Herc countered, "No lies this time! "
Victus began to tremble. This man frightened him. In a meek voice he mumbled, "We were just huntin' with our dogs. Gotta eat". Hercules remembered the animal confrontation he'd heard moments before their arrival. His stomach twisted into a knot.
"What were you tracking?" he said tightly. Victus couldn't meet his eyes and his trembling literally shook his entire frame.
Herc grabbed his chin, forcing it upright. "Answer me or, so help you, I'll break your neck!" he snarled.
Victus went white . " A--a--wolf ! " he managed to gasp out. Herc loosened his hold.
"What wolf?" his voice now deadly. Victus looked as if he would faint, but he was compelled to answer to save his life.
"The--one'd--that killed Bergus, last time--you was here." he stammered.
"And your puny little friend, too! " Polus added sarcastically. He'd awakened as Victus blurted out his response.
"What--did--you--say?" Herc's punctuated question now directed at the other man. Polus' bravado withered under the murderous glare of the son of Zeus. "What about my friend?" He grabbed the man's worn tunic, bunching it up in his big hands. Polus could barely find his tongue.
"The--dogs. " was all he could squeak out. Hercules' hands fell away in shock. In so doing, Polus' tunic opened to reveal an amber necklet around the man's neck. Herc's temper snapped. He yanked Serena's gift unmercifully from Polus' throat, then belted the guy once more, rendering him unconscious. Hercules clutched the jewelry in his fist possessively, then tucked it away into his belt pouch. Without another word, he left them and bolted in the direction of the fight.
Victus shrieked fearfully, about not being left to the elements, but Hercules was deaf to his cries. Something roared like thunder in his brain. He could not believe this nightmare was happening again.
"I'm coming, Iolaus, hold on!" he pleaded to himself. His mind was whirling with all the possible worst-case scenarios that may have befallen his friend. In a short span of time he had located the source of the dreadful noises and the tableau before him, brought him up short.
CHAPTER SEVEN
" . . .Nothing lives long 'but the earth and the mountain, What remains in the fire, in the flames, becomes the final song. Listen hard to the words,From the winter's whiteness they come, And on this day too old to run am I, Too old for the land of the young...The air is crisp and cold, here at my home I sing. Nothing lives long but the earth and the mountain. . . " - Charles Ballard
Silverfur went for the hound's haunch, biting deeply. He dragged at the dog, forcing it to release its hold on Iolaus.
Enraged, the beast whirled on the wolf, Iolaus forgotten.
Taking advantage of the chance at freedom, Iolaus dragged himself away from the fray until he reached his sword. His bloody hand grasped the hilt, but he'd not the strength to wield it.
Blood from his head wound trickled into his eyes and down his cheek. Absently, he wiped his eyes in order to see, his attention riveted on the hound and Silverfur. For the first time, he got a glimpse of the monster that had gotten the drop on him. The beast was huge, fuller in the chest than Silverfur and just as large.
The wolf taunted the dog, feigning attack, patiently seeking the right opening to the hound's vulnerable throat. The maddened dog closed the distance and they wrestled around the ground. 1olaus watched gravely, his vision swimming in and out of focus,as the shock from his injuries began to set in. He shook off the dizziness, for he, too, was waiting for an opportunity to help the wolf. He could see the contest was an intense one, knowing that no quarter would be given by either of the combatants. Each had the upper hand at one point or another, but neither seemed to maintain the advantage for long.
One thing struck Iolaus. The hound was young and in the prime of its life. Silverfur was well beyond that and his slower movements were painfully evident. If Iolaus could see that, he was certain the hound could too.
Iolaus struggled to his feet. He had promised to help protect his friends, let nothing harm them. He swayed unsteadily, nearly toppling over.
A soft-furred body pressed against his legs, lending support. Iolaus looked down to see Moonbeam aiding him, as if she understood what he intended to do. He leaned on her back to steady himself, switching the blade from his left hand to his right.
The two canines grappled for purchase and finally the hound gained the top. Silverfur's paw caught beneath the other's body, preventing him from freeing himself from the hound's weight. The dog used the same tearing bite as he did on Iolaus, finding the wolf's throat exposed. Silverfur fought valiantly but futilely,using his back paws to kick out at the beast. The hound clamped down harder until an audible snap signaled the end for the wolf.
Iolaus heard it too, and screamed, "NO!" He lunged forward with the sword, dredging up some deep reserve of strength that propelled him. The beast heard his exclamation and bared his bloodied teeth at the human bearing down on him. Before it could counter the man's charge, the sword impaled its heavy chest, up to the hilt. The creature's eyes glazed over as death finally overtook it, dragging the hunter to his knees.
Iolaus' numb fingers let the sword fall away with the hound.
He bent over, panting hard, ignoring the blood staining his clothing. He crawled to where the silver wolf lay, his lifesaver yet again. He cradled the animal in his arms, clutching at his fur convulsively. Instinctively, Iolaus knew his friend was dead but his frazzled mind could not yet accept that fact.
"It's okay now, boy. It's all over. They won't hurt you anymore." he uttered despairingly, then began to sob. His tears mingled with the blood streaming down his face. Moonbeam nuzzled in close, sensing his grief, her own whines blending with his murmurrings.
Suddenly, she raised her nose to the sky in lament, singing the wolf song of passing. Several smaller voices joined her's from the cave. Iolaus hesitated only a heartbeat, then cried out his anguish, in the imitation of a howl. For that moment, he had become one with them, in their passion and their custom.
It was this picture of sorrow that Hercules found himself facing, as he burst into the clearing. Moonbeam saw him first and paused in her lament. She didn't snarl at him, sensing his godly aura. Instead, she lowered her head onto the body of her mate.
Iolaus reached out to comfort her, his face a terrible mask of grief. He was not aware his best friend had slowly approached, until the demigod had squatted down beside him. Hercules placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. He looked around at the carnage, then back at Iolaus. The hunter's moist eyes met his.
"He--saved--my--life. Sacrificed himself, for me--for them. " Iolaus whispered huskily. Not really comprehending what Iolaus meant, Herc studied the white wolf. Then he heard the unmistakable whimperings of the cubs in the cave. As realization dawned on him, Hercules blew out his breath, resigned. He half-heard Iolaus' word~ as the hunter spoke again.
"I--don't--know--where they came--from. They--they just attacked. Silverfur--he tried to--stop--, too old." Herc's nostrils flared a bit. He now knew that answer, but kept his own counsel on the matter. Iolaus needed him first. He could see 1olaus struggling to remain conscious, trying to relate his version of the nightmare. Hercules was greatly alarmed by the amount of blood soaking his friend's vest and matted in his blond hair.
Sympathetic to Iolaus' mental state at this point, Hercules gently eased Silverfur from his grasp. The smaller man clutched feebly at the wolf's fur, but Herc carefully loosed the hunter's grip with a light sweep of his own hand. Iolaus panicked.
"I've got to help him! " he cried out softly, tears welling up in his eyes again. Despite Iolaus' protests, Hercules lifted him to his feet, slipping a steadying arm about his waist. The son of Zeus tilted his partner's chin up, to face him and very gently explained, "Iolaus, he's not suffering anymore.. There is nothing more that we can do for him. You, my friend, are a mess. If I don't do something for your wounds, you could bleed to death. I--We," he indicated the wolves, "can't afford to lose you, too. Would you want his sacrifice to be in vain?" Hercules' words had the effect of ice water being thrown in Iolaus' face. He glanced down at Silverfur and nodded comprehension. Nonetheless, his tears coursed down his cheeks unchecked.
He clung weakly to the big man's arm for a few moments, then slumped in Herc's arms, unconscious. The taller man cradled his dear friend to his chest and carried him to the cave's entrance.
There he rummaged in Iolaus' pack and produced a cloth, some thread and a makeshift needle. A roll of cloth strips Iolaus had procured for bandages came next. Herc silently praised his buddy~ foresight in this respect. With water from the skin, Herc bathed and stitched the ghastly wounds closed. He added healing powders and delicately swathed Iolaus' head and shoulder in the bandages.
Hercules thanked his luck that Iolaus remained out of it, in order for him to mend the injuries. He draped a blanket from the pack over the sick man's shoulders to keep out the chill. He sat back and watched the hunter's chest slowly rise and fall. Herc hoped that he would sleep through the day. He was afraid to try and carry Iolaus back to town in his condition. The man had lost a frightful amount of blood and he feared Iolaus might not survive the trip. Hercules pondered what he needed to do next, both for Iolaus and the wolf. What had Iolaus called him? Silverfur.
The demigod's throat tightened. He'd grown fond of the wolf and would miss him too. He owed his life to him, for protecting his back when the ruffians back in the forest had tried to stab him. Now Iolaus had given him a name. He glanced back at the sleeping man. The dear brother of his heart, who threw caution to wind where his own safety was concerned, but who put the utmost significance to someone's name, whether it be animal or man.
Hercules ran his hand wearily down his face, rose and went over to the wolves. Moonbeam lifted her head and eyed him soulfully, as he squatted next to her. He caressed her cheek.
"Tell me,fair one, what name did he grace you with?" he asked softly. A tingling of his skin and a subtle shift in the air warned him of another's presence. He turned and saw the goddess, Artemis appear in a sparkling green glow. Her magnificent bow was slung over her strong but curved shoulders.
Her russet colored hair was plaited to her waist and pale green ivy was woven through the strands. Artemis was garbed in rich green, brown and gold leather raiment, a shiny gold breastplate catching the rays of the sun. A finely honed dagger was sheathed at her waist. The green eyes studied her half brother curiously and her voice, when she spoke, was like a whisper of wind through the trees.
"He called her Moonbeam, Hercules," she informed him. "But he also killed in one of my sacred groves. Therefore, he must be punished. He knows the penalty. "
So did Hercules. He stood to face his sister. Iolaus didn't need this now. "Artemis, Iolaus didn't kill that hound just for the sake of a hunt. He surely hasn't forgotten his lesson from +he time we were kids. Two poachers and thieves in yonder woods set the hounds to attack him and the wolves. We're friends to these wolves and certainly would never harm them. Silverfur rescued Iolaus from the hound and sacrificed himself to preserve his family. If I know Iolaus, he killed the hound in self-defense and to protect the wolves. There are cubs in the cave." he argued back, indicating the cave.
Artemis cocked her head to one side and glanced down at Moonbeam. The white wolf moved to her side and rubbed her cheek on the goddess's thigh, whining softly. After conversing with the wolf, Artemis returned her gaze to Hercules. The rigid demeanor of her body relaxed and she offered a small smile.
"Moonbeam tells me that you are telling the truth, both with Iolaus' part in the fight and of her cubs. It doesn't please me to be disobeyed, but I will spare Iolaus the penalty."
Hercules sighed with relief. "I understand and I thank you on his behalf. He's hurt too badly to thank you himself." For a moment, Hercules paused, reaching for other words to say.
"Artemis, Iolaus is a friend to all animals and the woodlands. You've seen him out here. He's your friend too. He gave names to the wolves because he feels like family to them. He honored Silverfur's death as they would do and still suffers for the loss. Please, would you help him now, for them and for me?"
Artemis measured Hercules' words. She found no selfish motive in them and was not lost on the profound feelings the two men shared for one another. And, she admitted to herself, she liked the mortal hunter, his charm and his honesty. "I'll see what I can do:' she replied. "As for the hounds owners, leave that to me. "
CHAPTER EIGHT
"...For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity...." - William Wordsworth
MORNING dawned warm and bright, filtering through the canopy of branches overhead. Hercules had gone to the stream to fill Iolaus' waterskin and to splash his own face to refresh himself. He'd trusted Moonbeam to keep guard over the hunter until he'd finished his chore. She had spent the night in the cave, nursing her cubs and settling them from the previous day's activities. The night had been comfortably warm but Herc found he could not fall asleep. Instead, he kept a vigilant eye on Iolaus' welfare.
True to her word, Artemis had gathered several healing herbs and instructed Hercules to prepare them for a poultice to use on Iolaus' wounds. Hercules didn't question their potency and did as he was told. Iolaus stirred only when Herc changed the poultices and bandages. The tall warrior urged him to drink plenty of water when he woke, then allowed him to drift back off to sleep.
Moonbeam visited them more than once, watching for awhile as Hercules tended to Iolaus. She licked the sick man's face tenderly, as if he were one of her little ones. She then went to Hercules' huddling with him briefly in assurance, before returning to her cave and brood.
Before departing, Artemis had taken Silverfur with her, promising him a decent crossing to the other side. Hercules expressed his gratitude for her kind gesture and assured the goddess that Iolaus would be pleased by that action. In his eyes, the wolf had been a hero to them and deserved no less than a hero's tribute.
Artemis eyed both men with stark admiration, amazed at their compassion for her animals. It pleased her to know they would not only champion others who were weak, but also her beloved menagerie of wildlife as well. Upon leaving, she stated cautiously, "Hercules, I am by no means, a healer, but I believe the herbs will suffice until you can get him to a proper one. It is the best I can do for him. As for the other two, let's just say they've been dealt a fitting judgment."
Hercules didn't ask what that judgment entailed nor did he care. Although he'd shunned the gods for most of his life, he sometimes felt that the culprits deserved what they got. At least those two did.
One other gift the Huntress left behind was a sturdy horse.
It would serve as a ride for Iolaus when he was strong enough to travel. Hercules yawned as he made his way back to the camp and was surprised to see Iolaus sitting up. He scrutinized the hunter's pale face, but Iolaus' eyes were clear and fever free. The demigod offered him the waterskin, which he accepted gratefully. Herc dropped his tall frame to the ground, to sit next to his partner. "Feeling a little better this morning, buddy?" he queried.
Iolaus hugged his wounded arm close to his body. He lifted the opposite shoulder slightly in a shrug. A sad smile played about his lips.
"I'm -- I'm OK, I guess. Just mighty sore. Sewed me up, did ya?" he asked. Hercules' lips quirked in return.
"Yeah, but I had some help, " he replied. Iolaus' eyebrows rose curiously. Hercules raised his, a little smugly. "You, my friend, were a terrible sight to see, yesterday. Artemis decided to pop in, after all the -- uh, well, you know. She was a bit peeved about the animals dying. She wanted to punish you for killing in one of her sacred groves".
Iolaus' mouth dropped in consternation, then snapped shut in rising anger. Before he could shape a reply, Hercules halted him with an upraised palm. Iolaus stared at him expectantly.
"I put in a good word for you, letting her know that none of what happened was your fault. She changed her mind about levying the penalty on you." he teased. ,
The little man's eyes widened."The Penalty?" he uttered. 1olaus shot to his feet, fully angry now. "Damn it, Herc, I don't even know what in Tartarus happened, much less than knowing this to be a sacred area. Those hounds seemed to materialize out of---", he shouted, but abruptly stopped, clutching his head and swaying unsteadily. Hercules grabbed him before he collapsed, easing back to the ground. Iolaus winced at the pain his indiscrete motion had generated in both of his injuries. Hercules helped him to sip some water. Moonbeam sauntered over to them, licking Iolaus' face. He raised his head from his hand to look at her and tentatively stroked her neck. There was a bleak expression behind the weariness in his eyes. Hercules regretted upsetting him and apologized. Iolaus continued to focus his attention on the wolf. Without looking at Hercules, he uttered softly,
"What did happen here, Herc? Why did Silverfur have to die? He saved my life."
Hercules heard the pain in his partner's voice. He knew of no easier way of explaining than the most direct manner. He cleared his throat nervously.
"Iolaus, do you remember those guys that assaulted you with their arrows, the last time we were here?" he ventured.
This time, Iolaus gave him his full attention. Several emotions ran across his face, indicating that he indeed recalled.
"Yeah, what about them?" he finally said. Herc scratched his jaw.
"They were the owners of those two hounds. Apparently, they saw you with Silverfur and decided that you both would make great targets for hunting. After thinking about it, I'm inclined to believe that they wanted revenge. They accosted me after they'd loosed the dogs on you. I was forced to detain them and learned what they were about before I reached you. I'm truly sorry, but the fight was already over before I reached the clearing." Here he paused, regret in his eyes. "I know you loved Silverfur. I realized that he was already gone by the way Moonbeam was howling.'
"Then I saw the blood covering both of you and didn't know how much was yours or his. I was afraid for you,terrified that I might lose you too." Hercules studied his hands distractedly.
Iolaus glanced away, a deep pang of sorrow and guilt tightening his chest. He felt the stinging of tears behind his eyes, his mind a tangle of emotion. The total picture became evidently clear. Then he noticed something else that had bothered him since he awoke.
"Herc" , he asked slowly, "What happened to the --the bodies of the hounds and Silverfur? Did you bury them already?" His eyes searched for fresh mounds of dirt. Seeing none, he sought Hercules' face. Hercules shook his head.
"No, I didn't bury them. Artemis decided that it would be best if she tended to that detail. She promised they'd get their proper passage into the Underworld." he replied.
Iolaus swallowed, new tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Absently he stroked :Moonbeam's soft fur. After several long moments of silence, he spoke again.
"What happened to those bastards?,They deserve to suffer." he muttered vehemently.
"Artemis took care of that too. Whatever she decided, I'm sure it wasn't a pleasurable experience for them. I didn't ask." Iolaus glanced sideways at him, nodded, then stared off in the distance, his jaw clenching, as he fought to contain his grief.
Hercules quietly empathized with him. He lightly tapped the hunter on the leg. "You know, that was a pretty considerate and thoughtful tribute you gave to Silverfur. Artemis was impressed." he stated. Iolaus' shocked expression locked with his. He searched for any trace of mockery in the demigod's tone. Iolaus only saw warmth and compassion. Embarassed, Iolaus looked down shyly.
"I--hadn't planned it to happen. It just seemed right-- at the time." he murmured, hunching his shoulders. He winced, forgetting his left shoulder's condition. Hercules swivelled around to examine the bandages. Iolaus didn't object, allowing him to replace both with fresh ones. The demigod eyed him with concern.
Iolaus almost always made a fuss about being sick or injured.
He appeared tired and pale. Hercules questioned him outright.
"Do you want to rest some more, before we head out? Artemis left us a horse so you don't have to walk back to town." Iolaus pondered the question, scratching Moonbeam behind the ears. "No. I--I think we should go. It hurts too much to stay. I'll be okay." he answered with a shaky sigh. Hercules nodded slowly.
"He's not really gone, Iolaus. He lives in his cubs and with Moonbeam." he offered gently. Iolaus swiped at his eyes, sniffed, then nodded once. Hercules slid an arm around his waist and helped him to stand. Carefully, Hercules boosted his friend up into the saddle, then secured the hunter's sword and pack on the back.
In a gesture of good-bye, the tall warrior leaned down and ran his fingers through Moonbeam's fur.
"You take care, girl. We've got to go. Take care of those cubs, too." he encouraged. Moonbeam licked licked his hand and whined softly. Hercules straightened and took the horse's reins. Iolaus gave a tiny wave to the wolf, his face solemn, as his partner led the animal towards the path along the river. Iolaus gazed back at the white wolf until she was obscured by the screen of leaves on the trees. Only then, did he face forward again, a tear escaping his eye, to slide slowly down his cheek.
Moonbeam stood motionless, watching the god's son and his mortal brother ride away.
A sparkling green light glowed beside her, revealing the Huntress Goddess. Artemis drew the slender wolf to her side. Moonbeam whimpered sorrowfully.
"I know, child. You will miss them." Artemis soothed. Moonbeam gazed up at her mistress.
"Mother Goddess" Artemis heard her mind apeak, "How is it that the Golden Hunter knew our names, Silverfur's and mine?" Artemis stared at the empty path thoughtfully. "I do not know. love. No, I cannot say how that is so". For a long time they stood there, pondering that curious phenomenon. Then Artemis patted the wolf's head. .
"Well, Moonbeam, shall we go see those beautiful cubs you've given me?" she coaxed. Moonbeam bounced eagerly, her long legs drawing her to the cave, the Huntress in tow.
Finis
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