He was alone. The others had put him out once the new leader had taken his place. He was an exile now and would run his solitary existance for the rest of his days.
It had been four days since he left the pack, but time had no meaning to him. He merely followed his instincts when hunger or sleep beckoned. Such was the way of his kind. He paused at the edge of the stream, his once keen, golden eyes searching for danger before he risked a drink. He saw nothing out of the ordinary and so dipped his muzzle to slake his thirst. The silvery gloss of his coat was now dulled, testifying to his ordeal since leaving the only home he had ever known. He accepted the code of life they followed and would know when the time was at hand to surrender himself to the otherside.
However, today would not be that day. Survival was the only instinct that drove him yet. They had been pursuing him for two passings of the moon and sun. There were three of them with the pain sticks strapped to their backs. One of them had gotten lucky and scored a hit that had caught him in the thigh, slowly robbing him of his strength and ability to run. His only hope was to reach his new-found den, to rest and hide from these pursuers.
It was not far and, despite his wound, he had managed to outdistance them for the time being, balancing his weight on his remaining three legs. The arrow had broken partway up the shaft when he'd stumbled down an incline. The remaining portion, though painful, had minimized the bleeding. He'd pause only long enough to lick at it in an attempt to soothe the pain.
In time, the familiar scents of his safe house reached his nose and he began searching for the opening in the brush to his tiny cave. Panting from his labors, he finally located the entrance and crawled inside to its relative safety. For another day he would live.
The tall warrior strode up to the well in the center of town and reached for the rope holding the bucket. He hauled it up with ease to the rim of the well and drew a dipper-full of the cool, clear water. He swallowed several long sips, refreshing his dry and dusty throat. Several of the townsfolk proffered their buckets which he cheerfully obliged by filling them.
"Hercules!" a voice stated cheerfully beside him, as the demi-god took one last sip from the dipper. The warrior turned to see a familiar friend reach out a hand in greeting.
"Hemnor, what a pleasure to see you again!" Hercules smiled, grasping the man's wrist in return.
"Likewise, Hercules. I hope all is well with you since we last met," Hemnor asked.
"Can't complain. What about you?" Herc replied.
"Not much change here either, but I get by. What of Iolaus? Nothing happened to him again, I hope?" Hemnor stated, hesitating slightly, when he noticed the absence of Hercules' companion. Hercules smiled and clapped Hemnor on the shoulder.
"No, Iolaus is fine. I'm suppose to meet him here sometime today."
Hemnor took Hercules by the arm and led him towards his home. "Then join me for lunch. You must be parched and hungry. I've plenty to spare. You can fill me in on all of your adventures since you two were here."
Hercules hesitated only a moment, then nodded with a chuckle. "Thanks, Hemnor. I guess I'm famished. The food and the company would indeed be welcome.
"But if you want stories, Iolaus is the guy to spin them, even if he tends to exaggerate a bit." Hemnor laughed heartily.
"Hercules, you are too modest. Everyone knows how much you've done for people in need. We appreciate all you've accomplished for us here. Installing the new water tower, helping to repair some of the buildings: not to mention ridding the town of Prince Nestor's soldiers once he'd died. And we will never forget your sacrifice in the bargain." This last he said gently in sympathy.
Hercules bowed his head, a pang of sorrow gripping his heart. Yes, Serena paid the price for his love of her and his self-proclaimed duty to help people. Hemnor had felt guilty over her loss keenly, since it was he who had initi ally alerted him and Iolaus of the Golden Hind's existence and plight with Nestor's soldiers. Hercules had reassured him that what he had done was the right thing, in trying to preserve Serena's right to live side by side with everyone else. Herc's fight was not with Hemnor. He still owed Ares and Strife for their vicious interference in his and Serena's relationship, and ultimately in her death. Hercules sighed.
"I appreciate that, Hemnor, but I had help. Iolaus is always there alongside of me, but he doesn't always get the credit that he deserves. He is one of the very few that I can truly count on to stand by me. I have no friend more loyal to me, even when it puts his life in danger. My life would be terribly lonely and boring if he were not there to keep me on an even keel."
Hemnor smiled. "Yes, I can see that. Well, come on, lunch awaits us!" he urged, slapping the big man on the back. As they strolled towards the house, Hemnor asked. "Where does he get all of that energy, anyway?" Hercules laughed aloud.
"I don't know. I ask myself that question everyday. It's one of those things I 'm continuously in awe of about him." Both men chuckled again as they entered the cool interior of the villager's home.
Iolaus stood at the edge of the stream, applying that energy in a battle with an exceptionally large trout, that clung tenaciously to his fishing line. The little hunter moved along the shore with the fish's progress, careful not to lose his catch. He reeled a portion of the line in, pulling the struggling fish a fraction closer with each turn. He muttered under his breath, pleading to himself.
"Come on, man, keep it taut! Don't lose him now. Just a little more to go!" He pressed his lips together in concentration, anticipating a fine haul. He tugged again, feeling the wild resistance . A grin split his tanned face gleefully as the trout came into view near the surface of the water. He set himself, preparing to flip the fish unto the bank, when the distinct whistle of an arrow whispered past his ear, before it lodged itself in his right shoulder.
Iolaus yelped in pain, dropping his line and staggering backwards to fall on his behind. He clutched his arm, frantically searching for his sword and his assailant. The sword, he realized, was leaning against a tree along with his pack, but too far away for him to make a grab for it. His attacker was concealed within the trees and bushes, having a distinct advantage over him. Iolaus scrambled to his left, desperate to reach the weapon.
He'd nearly covered the distance when a second arrow thudded into a tree trunk just ahead of him, causing him to hastily pull back. A third projectile burled itself in his left hip. Iolaus cried out, collapsing in the brush. Across the stream, three scruffy looking men broke through the bushes and started splashing through the shallow water. Iolaus cursed and grabbed a hold of a sapling, dragging himself to his feet, using any nearby branches, bushes or trees to pull himself up the bank and out of the line of fire. Pain hampered his movements, but he ignored it, knowing that he needed to get away.
His sword and pack were lost to him in his escape. He gritted his teeth in agony, hobbling as fast as his now lame leg would allow. He could hear the men gaining the near shore, crashing through the underbrush in their pursuit. He pressed on, fire burning in both shoulder and hip, feeling the blood tracing paths down his arm and inside his leather trousers. Iolaus pushed on through the thick foliage, occasionally snagging one or both of the arrows on protruding branches. He paused with his back against a thick trunk and listened for his pursuers, gulping in large quantities of air in his taxed lungs. He could hear them off in the distance.
The hunter swayed slightly as he became lightheaded from the loss of blood. With his left hand he grasped the shaft in his shoulder and pulled. It did not slip out easily, bringing more agony and tears to his eyes. His face was pinched in a grimace. On the second try, the arrow came loose. Iolaus doubled over, nearly blacking out from the pain. He shook his head to fend it off. He tried to gauge the men's location, guessing that they were closer by the way they made no effort to hide their presence.
Iolaus quickly grasped the second arrow and tried to remove it, to no avail. It was lodged deep into the bone. He slid to his knees in the effort, black dots dancing in front of his eyes. Out of sheer desperation, he snapped the shaft close to the hip, leaving the head still imbedded in his flesh. He flung the broken end away, panting hard. Blond head bowed, he rocked back and forth, gritting his teeth, until the pain subsided enough for him to continue on. He wasted no time hauling himself back to his feet and plunged ahead. He stumbled often, using the trees to both conceal and brace himself. With a quick glance over his shoulder, the little warrior prayed the ruffians had not gained on him during his brief stop.
In so doing, Iolaus stepped off of a hidden incline and tumbled several feet into a thick cluster of bushes. It was all he could do to keep from screaming aloud, revealing his position. He shoved his fist in his mouth to stifle the sound.
Iolaus tucked his body deeper into the thicket's center, waiting anxiously for the men's arrival, for he could run no farther. He could hear their voices as they soon caught up, at the apex of the incline.
"Where did he get to? Can't be too far ahead of us with a bum leg. I told ya to watch which way he went!" one of them said. A second, deeper voice chuckled.
"What difference does it make? We got his stuff, so he ain't got a weapon or food. Forget about him. He'll die in these woods where no one'll find him."
"If the wolves don't get him first!" a third voice added.
They laughed at that and Iolaus remained still until he was certain that they had truly gone. He cursed them for their callous attitude towards his welfare, then at himself for allowing them to get the drop on him in the first place. He lay his forehead on his guantleted arms wearily. They were right about one thing: with out his pack, sword and waterskin, his chances for survival were greatly reduced. He needed to find shelter and something to bind his wounds before he became too weak to seek help.
He crawled from beneath the brush partway before he realized that there was an opening in the rock face behind it. Parting the foliage for a closer inspection, Iolaus discovered the opening was wide enough for his small frame to pass through.
Iolaus decided then and there that, to go any farther, would be foolish and dangerous, and so crawled into the little cave. It was large enough to protect him from the elements and conceal him from his enemies. With an exhausted sigh, he dragged his protesting body to the back of the cave. At least he could rest, but knew he was far from being out of danger. Blood loss and thirst were his enemies now. He wiped the sweat from his brow and upper lip with his hand, then leaned his head against the cool stone wall, closing his eyes.
A long, low growl issued from somewhere to his right. Iolaus' heart jumped to his throat and his eyes snapped open. He turned his head slowly in that direction.
Two glittering eyes shone yellow-green in the dim light. Another, more forceful growl sounded from the creature.
"Oh, boy!" Iolaus uttered in despair, before he passed out in a faint.
Hercules left Hemnor's home later that afternoon, thanking his host for the meal and the friendly conversation. Herc advised him that he wished to visit a certain spot and that if Iolaus should arrive before his return, to let the hunter know where he'd gone. Hemnor understood without asking that Hercules wanted to visit Serena's grave and nodded.
The powerful warrior strode to the end of town where he and Serena had spent their last nights together. He spotted the little cottage they'd shared, a gift which Iolaus had given and helped to build for their honeymoon. Another young couple and their child occupied it now, once Hercules had abandoned it. Hemnor had taken care to see that someone worthy of its beauty got the benefit of its use, to Herc's relief.
A pang of sadness touched his heart but he fought the temptation to let it consume him. He moved on until he came to the secluded little grove where Serena's resting place stood silently. Hercules strolled over to the cairn and fingered the marriage bracelet he'd pounded into the stone. He sighed and looked about the clearing, breathing in the scents of the trees and flowers. She had called it home and family. Yes, it was an appropriate spot for her eternal sleep. Iolaus, Xena and Gabrielle had found it for him and were the only witnesses to her internment besides him. At the time, he had been so consumed with grief, he hadn't really noticed its beauty. To see it now, however, made him grateful to his three friends for their choice and he quietly let the feeling of serenity wrap itself around him. Serenity, yes, Serena: her name even fit with the way it looked and felt. He touched the stone once more.
"Be at peace, now, my love. We shall meet again on the otherside, one day.
"I'll never forget you." he whispered, then leaned over and kissed the bracelet. Hercules breathed a shaky sigh, glanced about the restful site, then made his way back to the town. The light was starting to fade by the time he reached the square. Several residents greeted him as they hurried home and lamps began to light in the various windows of shops and homes alike. The demi-god greeted each in return and smiled. He began to search for his friend, but was disappointed that the little man was nowhere to be found. He retraced his steps to Hemnor's residence, hoping his companion had the sense to seek out the villager first. Hemnor was there as usual, but shook his head when asked if Iolaus had arrived. A niggling concern crept up Herc's spine. Iolaus was usually prompt when he said he'd be someplace, except on a few rare occasions when he'd run into trouble. Hercules tried not to worry, knowing Iolaus was quite capable of taking care of himself. Hemnor sensed his concern and offered to let him stay the night if needed. The son of Zeus accepted the offer gratefully. He just hoped Iolaus had gotten a late start and decided to camp for the night. If he didn't show by morning, Hercules would begin a search for his erstwhile friend.
Iolaus awoke feverish and in pain, to the darkness surrounding him. In his groggy state he was confused as to his whereabouts, until he recalled the attack and his subsequent flight. He remembered where he was all at once and the fact that he was not alone. He tried to rise, but felt a heaviness upon his chest, pinning him to the ground. He raised his hand to his chest only to make contact with coarse fur. He drew the hand back quickly when the fur's owner stirred and rose slightly. Iolaus found himself staring face to face with a huge wolf's golden eyes. "Don't panic," he thought to himself, "Don't give him a reason to make you his dinner."
Iolaus studied the silhouette of the wolf's head in the dim light, that showed a trace of his silvery coat. The hunter swallowed and shifted carefully, wincing at the fire in his shoulder. The wolf whined softly, in imitation of the man, sensing his pain. Iolaus smiled hesitantly, tentatively reaching a hand to the creature's head. The animal watched the movement warily, then leaned into his touch when Iolaus slowly stroked him behind the ears. The golden eyes closed halfway. Iolaus sighed softly, speaking in a gentle, soothing tone.
"Hey there, fella. That's right, I'm not gonna hurt you. Please don't hurt me, okay? I didn't know this was your home. I hope you don't mind if we share it for awhile." Iolaus tried to sit up straighter. The arrow tip in his hip reminded him of its presence with a vengeance. His sharp intake of breath startled the wolf and the eyes came fully open, causing the animal to leap backwards and come to his feet. Another low growl was directed at the hunter. Iolaus froze, his cry of pain sticking in his throat. He didn't want to intimidate his temporary house mate.
"Sorry guy, I didn't mean to scare you. Oh, man!" he pleaded, spreading his hands wide to reveal his open palms. Who was really scaring who? The wolf continued to stare into his blue eyes. Iolaus fought to calm the panic in his gut. He took a couple of slowbreaths and offered one of his cheerful smiles. The wolf parted his lips, panting heavily, revealing his long canine teeth. Without warning, he again lowered himself to the ground.
'What the hell are you doing, Iolaus? Now you're talking to wolves, like he's gonna understand you. How do I get myself into these messes?!' was his silent lament. To reassure the wolf, Iolaus offered him his upturned palm. The wolf leaned his muzzle forward in order to sniff it.
"That's it, my friend, See, I'm a friend too. Look, I'm hurt. I don't want to intrude, but I needed a place to hide. Can you understand that?" he stated quietly. The creature licked his hand, then turned his head to fuss with his right rear leg. He began to pull at something, then licked at it, whimpering. The golden eyes found Iolaus' blue ones again, trying to convey some sort of message. Iolaus studied him for a long moment, then shifted his gaze to the animal's rear. Iolaus noticed a dark stain on the beast's thigh that he hadn't noticed earlier. Blood. The wolf was wounded too. Oh, great, Iolaus thought. This is not good!
Nonetheless, he put his own pain aside and leaned over cautiously to examine the poor fellow's leg. He placed his fingers gently near the wound, lightly running them over the top of it. The broken shaft of an arrow protruded through the skin. The animal snapped at his hand, but did not bite him, whimpering again. Iolaus reflexively drew back his hand, but not far from the wound, locking gazes with this unlikeliest of roommates. In that gaze he tried to let the poor wolf know that he meant him no harm, that he was only trying to help. To prove his point, he gently stroked the haunch away from the injury. Miraculously, the wolf seemed to sense his intentions, poked his nose forward again and rubbed his cheek along the back of Iolaus' hand. Sudden pity filled the hunter. He combed his fingers through his own tangled locks, brushing the damp, wayward bangs from his forehead. A little chuckle escaped his lips. He relaxed somewhat. He addressed his comments to his companion.
"Well, my friend, it appears like we're both in the same predicament. Probably the same bastards who shot me, got you too. Gods, how I wish I hadn't lost my supplies to those creeps. It seems you and I are up to our hips in the proverbial pile of manure, buddy. If only I had some water."
He leaned back wearily against the cave wall, fervantly wishing he could get to Hercules. His big partner must be wondering where he was. What time was it anyway? It seemed to get darker in the cave even as Iolaus became aware of the change.
Iolaus cradled his injured arm to his chest protectively and found that he could barely keep his eyes open. Somewhere between that moment and the time he'd slipped into a restless sleep, he felt the wolf creep slowly up to his side and rest his head vigilantly upon his thigh.
Hercules sat at the table, picking at his food distractedly. Hemnor sat across from from him, watching thoughtfully, as he took a mouthful from his own plate.
He swallowed and put his fork down to speak. "Hercules, is the food okay?
"I could get you something different if you don't care for that. I'll admit, I'm not the greatest of cooks." he stated with a smile. The son of Zeus stirred from his musings and look at his host.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Then he realized what Hemnor had asked." The food is fine, Hemnor. I guess my mind was elsewhere." Herc smiled, slightly embarrassed. Hemnor reached across the table and patted his arm.
"Iolaus, right?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Hercules nodded, setting aside his fork.
"He's been late before, but my instincts tell me something is not right. He should have been here by now." Herc replied. Hemnor nodded slowly. He had seen, firsthand, how much the two friends cared for each other, especially when Iolaus nearly died from the Hind's poisoned arrow. He also admired Iolaus' will to live, while others had succumbed to the deadly projectiles. He saw, too, how the blond hunter had sheltered his friend when Hercules had lost his powers and was wounded by Nestor's men; how he stood by Hercules when he was accused of killing his wife, Serena.
To Hercules he stated, "Are you going to look for him, then?"
Hercules sighed. He didn't want Iolaus to feel that he thought the hunter was not up to taking care of himself, but, on the other hand, Iolaus' continued absence just roused his suspicions and concern more readily. He loved his partner like a brother and would never forgive himself if something drastic did happen to his erstwhile companion because he took no action. Herc drummed his fingers on the table impatiently, eyeing Hemnor.
"I would be remiss if I didn't. He may think that I'm a worrywart, but I'd feel a whole lot better doing something." he replied. Hemnor shrugged his shoulders, then rose.
"You know him and his habits better than anyone, Hercules. If it gives you peace of mind to go, then by all means, follow your heart. Here, take the food with you and I'll fill your waterskin with fresh water. At least you won't go away from here hungry." Hercules followed his cue and rose also. He stood by gratefully as Hemnor prepared the pack as promised.
"Thanks, my friend. I'd appreciate it if you informed him where I've gone should he get here before I return." Hercules appealed. Hemnor smiled, handing him his gear.
"Tell me one thing, Hercules, how I'm to get him to stay here when the poor fellow is going to want to follow you?"
"Feed him. It works every time!" Hercules stated without a second thought, clapping the villager on the shoulder. "Thank you."
Hemnor laughed outright at that and accompanied Hercules a short way up the street. When they parted, Hemnor watched silently as the big man headed out of town.
For the next couple of hours he searched the countryside, utilizing all of his god-given senses to locate his missing companion. He hoped that he might find a campsite where Iolaus was safe and sound. When that was not the case, Hercules widened the scope of his search, taking him nearer, then into the thick forest several miles from the village. He wandered along, checking clearings and groves, then ultimately along the stream that ran through the shady, towering trees and thick foliage.
Presently he came to an area where the bank angled more steeply from the edge of the burbling water. He stooped to examine the dark soil, noting several sets of footprints and scrape marks that indicated some sort of struggle had occurred.
Without knowing why, he felt his body tense up. Moving along the shore, something snagged on the reeds caught his attention. Herc bent to get a closer look. A fishing line, like the kind Iolaus often used, was wrapped around a protruding root and dangled in the water. Hercules pulled it free and shoved it in his pack. A deep frown creased his brow.
"Iolaus, where are you?" he muttered to himself, peering around again. Behind him, a twig snapped, setting the hairs on the back of his neck on edge. He whirled to see three men trying to sneak up on him. When they realized that they'd lost the element of surprise, the leader stepped forward, grinning through broken teeth.
Hercules realized that his back was to the water, blocking an adequate escape route for him. The other two men flanked the first and had arrows already nocked in their bows.
"Get him!" shouted the first and the two simultaneously released their arrows. Herc caught both in midair, one in each fist. All three gaped at him in astonishment. Enjoying their discomfort, the demi-god snapped the shafts in half and let the pieces fall to the ground. A dark look of anger tensed his jaws. The leader recovered from his surprise first and pulled the sword belt slung across his shoulder, to the front. Grasping the scabbard with one hand, he drew the blade and brandished it at Hercules. One glance at both the sheath and the weapon brought instant recognition to Herc's now firedup eyes. They were none other than those belonging to Iolaus.
Iolaus came awake with a powerful thirst. His lips were dry and cracked and his tongue felt swollen. When he opened his eyes, they burned with the fever that had gripped him. He rubbed them, removing the perspiration that moistened them. It felt hot and stuffy to him even though he knew the cave to be cool. His pale hair hung in limp, damp strands. Even his breathing felt labored. To round out his discomfort, his shoulder throbbed unmercifully. He touched the edges of the wound with the tips of his fingers and felt the heat of infection eminating from the red and swollen area.
He groaned in disgust at his own folly. He needed help and knew that if he didn't get it soon, he would die here. With an effort, he loosened his belt and undid the fastenings on his trousers. He pulled the top portion down enough to better view the wound on his hip. The leather caught on the broken shaft, reawakening the pain and starting it bleeding again. Iolaus hissed in agony. He struggled awkwardly to free the trousers from the splintered end. After what seemed an interminable amount of time had passed, he succeeded, using his hand on his uninjured arm.
He paused to catch his breath, that action leaving him sweating and exhausted. Pain deepened the lines in his face. He scrutinized this wound by the minimal light that filtered into the cave. Dried blood mixed with freshly oozing blood and it, too, was inflamed. Iolaus cursed his luck helplessly. One thing was for certain: this arrow had to come out immediately. He braced himself, grasped the shaft once again and pulled. The thing stubbornly remained lodged in the bone. Without giving himself time to think about the pain, he renewed his efforts, wiggling it back and forth until it finally came free. He cried out, giving vent to his suffering, tears streaming down his cheeks. More blood and pus seeped forth from the opening.
Iolaus tore a piece of his vest off and jammed it into the gaping hole to stem the flow. Then he eased the trousers back up to hold it in place. He refastened the front and buckled his belt. He would have to risk trying to find Hercules, despite the danger the three hunters posed.
Right now, though, he barely had any energy to stand up. He leaned his head back, squeezing his eyes shut, concentrating on just relaxing. He felt a persistant nudge, then a wet nose under his left arm. He forced his eyes open and again found himself peering into the black-rimmed, golden eyes of the wolf.
The animal nestled closer to him, whining softly, as if to comfort him. Iolaus managed a weak smile and stroked the large head. To himself he believed the wolf knew he was hurting and trying to make him feel better. Iolaus patted the thick shoulder in return, amazed by the wolf's unusually friendly contact. They remained that way for a time, comforted by each other's company.
After a while, Iolaus decided to check the animal's wound. The arrow's naked shaft still remained painfully visible. Then he directed his gaze at the wolf's attentive face. He appeared to be an older wolf, gray hair sprinkling along the slender muzzle. A slight glaze was visible in the creature's eyes, depicting his pain. Empathy again touched Iolaus' heart for the brave beast. Then an idea came to him. Insane as it seemed, Iolaus, nonetheless, decided that he would try to remove the offending arrow. He just hoped the creature would not get it in his mind to tear off his hand in the process.
Iolaus stroked the fur, murmuring softly, working his hand along the thickly muscled body until he reached the injured leg. He lightly fingered the arrow. The wolf's head whipped around, the jaws parting. He watched Iolaus warily.
Iolaus petted the rump, continuing his soothing patter. Carefully, his fingers closed on the shaft. "Let me help ya, fella. I know it'll hurt, but it'll be better once it's out. Believe me, I know." The wolf nudged his hand, licked it, then lay down, panting as if waiting. Encouraged by this action, Iolaus leaned forward, held the beast' s shoulder down with his right elbow, despite the pain in that shoulder, then quickly yanked the offending shaft with his opposite hand. At least it came free easier than his own two. The wolf let out a plaintive cry, then whimpered woefully. The blond hunter caressed the wolf's head again in order to assuage his misery. The gentle creature began to lick the wound after a moment. Iolaus tore off another piece of fabric from his vest and carefully wrapped it around the leg. When he was finished, Iolaus sat back, satisfied. The wolf rose to a sitting position, shook himself and placed his paw on Iolaus' chest. To Iolaus' delight, he lavished his face with licks from his coarse tongue.
"You're welcome." Iolaus laughed tiredly. "Now if you could find us water and bring it back, we'd be all set." The wolf pawed him again, turned and left the cave. "No, wait! Don't go!" Iolaus called out, suddenly frantic and feeling alone.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I should be going with you." Utter fatigue held him back, the fever becoming more evident. Iolaus tried to muster what strength he could and attempted to get to his knees. But the combination of fever, blood loss and lack of water defeated him. Pain made his vision swim and he collapsed in a heap, unconsciousness once more claiming him.
Hercules faced his adversaries with feelings of both anger and forboding. His instincts were correct when he sensed that Iolaus was in trouble: angry that this trio was likely responsible for that trouble. Three against one odds were nothing for Iolaus unless he was surprised first.
Hercules could guess that that was the case here, since they'd managed to part him from his sword and, yes, his belongings, as well. The pack lay at the feet of one of the archers. Hercules didn't wait for them to attack first. He just charged up the hill towards them, reached out and slapped the sword out of the leader's hand. Then he punched the guy in the nose, knocking him out. The one to his left was trying to fit another arrow into his bow. Herc grabbed both and broke them in half across his knee. The third just swung the bow in an arc, attempting to whack the demi-god in the back. Hercules' reflexes were quicker and he caught the man by the wrist and flung him into the water. The second man pulled a knife from a sheath at his waist and lunged at Hercules.
A vicious snarl came from the trees behind Hercules, then a huge, silverfurred blur soared over his shoulder and landed on the knife-wielder with a thud.
Both went to the ground hard, the beast fastening his jaws on the man's throat. The man's cry was cut off, ending in a choked gurgle, as the wolf crushed his victim's larynx. Hercules staggered back and watched in morbid fascination as the animal finished off his prey. When he'd completed his kill, the wolf turned his bloody muzzle towards the son of Zeus. Hercules kept his hands slightly away from his sides, not sure what the beast planned to do next.
"Easy fella," he muttered aloud, "Don't know where you came from, but I do appreciate the helping hand." The golden eyes studied him for a moment, then the wolf limped to the edge of the stream. He dipped his nose into the cool water, washing away some of the blood. He lapped up some of the clear liquid, shook himself, then padded over to the tall warrior and lay at his feet, panting. This action took Hercules by surprise. He squatted down slowly and tentatively reached out his open palm. The wolf sniffed at it, then licked him.
Amazingly, the animal allowed him to scratch him behind his ears as if they were old friends. Hercules smiled softly, petting the head affectionately. Then he noticed the crudely bandaged leg. He frowned. A ragged piece of faded purple cloth was tied about his thigh, purple like Iolaus' vest. Which meant that he could still be alive somewhere out here. He scanned the forest about him while absently running his fingers through the wolf's coat. The second archer had fled into the woods when the wolf had attacked. The first moaned and started to come around.
Hercules rose easily, stepped over to the man's side and hauled him to his feet. The man became fearful as Hercules bunched the front of his shirt in his fist.
"Where is the man who you stole this sword from?! And don't tell me you found it somewhere!" Herc demanded in his most deadliest of tones. The leader shook his head and started to say 'I don't know', but stopped when Hercules already had anticipated his response. He said nothing instead. Hercules grabbed him by the throat.
"You better give me an answer or I '11 let the wolf have his way with you like he did with your friend."
This time the man's eyes widened and he stole a glance at the wolf, who had risen to his feet, growling low in his throat and baring his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the mangled remains of his friend. His stomach knotted up and he quickly returned his frightened gaze to Hercules. The towering warrior cocked an eyebrow at the cowardly ruffian. That convinced the man to loosen his tongue.
"He- he ran away- into the woods! I swear it!" Hercules squeezed a little tighter.
"My friend doesn't run away from a fight unless you did something more to him. Did you scum ambush him the way you tried to do to me? I don't have time for games!" Herc growled. The man nodded vigorously, terrified.
"How?!" Hercules added harshly, more anxious now for his missing friend.
The leader tried to answer, but pointed to his throat. Hercules eased the pressure a little, but held the man's gaze with impatience.
"We- shot him- with an arrow. He- left his- stuff behind- by the stream. We chased him for awhile but- we lost him- in the trees. Then we came back here. That's the truth!" the man gasped. Hercules gave him a measured look, then decided that the thief was telling the truth. He thrust the man backwards, causing him to fall on his buttocks. Herc snatched up both packs, then the sword and sheath belt. He pointed the blade in the ruffian's face just inches from his nose.
"If my friend dies as a result of your so-called fun, I' 11 hunt you down the same way you did him. Then you'11 regret you ever crossed paths with either one of us! Now get out of here before I decide to set the wolf on you after all!" With that, he drove the blade forcibly into the scabbard.
It didn't take any more prodding for the man to bolt for his freedom. The wolf lunged after him with a snarl, which only hastened his escape. The wolf followed him for a few yards, then turned his head to gaze at Hercules. Hercules was starring intently in all directions, wondering solemnly how he was going to find his loyal sidekick in all of this green expanse. The thief had admitted to having wounded Iolaus and a full day had already passed since his disappearance. Hercules had no way of knowing how badly his friend was hurt, but sometime between that time and now, he'd had the compassion enough to care for the injured wolf.
As if reading his thoughts, the wolf had silently approached his side and prodded Herc's hand with his nose. Hercules glanced down at the aged face. Yes, the wolf had to be the key. He ran his fingers gently along the creature' s jaw affectionately.
"He helped you, didn't he, my friend? Do you know where he is? He's my dearest friend and I 'm sure he needs me now." Hercules asked quietly. He sighed and ran his fingers through his long, light brown hair. The wolf reached up a paw, tapping him on his gauntleted arm.
"What is it fella?" Herc asked. The wolf whined, and trotted awkwardly towards the edge of the forest. He looked back over his shoulder at Hercules and whined again. When Herc didn't move, the wolf returned to him and closed his jaws over the big man's forearm. He tugged at it a couple of times, released it, and again sidled over to the trees. Hercules raised his brows.
"You want me to follow you, boy? Is that it?" In acknowledgement, the wolf took a few more steps towards the woods and howled softly. Hercules made up his mind and followed in his wake. Satisfied that the man was behind him, the silver creature plunged into the thicket. Hercules' long strides kept pace with his guide, and each time he slowed, the wolf doubled back to be sure he was still with him.
Presently, they arrived at an area where a steep incline descended into the heart of the forest. Here the wolf paused. He sniffed the ground for a brief moment, then crept carefully to the bottom, favoring his wounded leg. Hercules mimicked his cautious descent, bracing himself from falling by holding on to the trunks of trees. When he finally reached the bottom, he spotted the wolf nosing around a large clump of foliage. He gave Herc a quick glance, then disappeared into its midst.
Hercules deposited his packs and dropped to his knees. He parted the bushes and was surprised to see a large opening in the rock face behind them. The wolf stuck his head back out, let out a small bark and slipped back out of sight. Hercules crawled through the opening, his broad shoulders scraping the sides. When his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, there before him sprawled the still form of Iolaus, the wolf's head lying protectively on his bloody chest. Herc pulled himself the rest of the way into the now crowded cave and closer to his friend's side. He gently cradled Iolaus in his arms, feeling the burning heat from his cheeks and forehead as he hugged him close.
"I'm here, my friend. I hope I'm not too late."
Iolaus burned in a maelstrom of fire and pain. His throat was parched and sore. Chaotic images of wolves and ugly men chased him, but he felt as if his feet were in mud. They would catch him and he would die. He could feel the flames consuming him and cried out in agony.
Something cool seemed to splash in his face and the suddeness of it made him jerk upright. Cold liquid trickled across his dry tongue. He gulped at it greedily, causing him to cough. More soothing coolness bathed his face. He reached out lamely. Blessed, sweet water caressed his lips. The nightmare images pushed back somewhat, and he opened his fever-glazed eyes to focus on a blurry face staring ernestly upon him. The mouth was speaking words he could barely understand, soothing words, calling his name. He tried to hang on to their meaning, but blackness washed over him and drew him down, until he saw and heard nothing more.
Hercules brushed back Iolaus' sweat-soaked hair and studied his face. The man was bathed in his perspiration, that dampened his clothing clear through. Iolaus had briefly opened his eyes, mumbling incoherently, but lapsed into a deeper unconsciousness that raised Herc's anxiety level. His concerns transmitted themselves to the wolf, who whimpered. He licked Iolaus' face paternally, nudging him as if trying to wake him up. Then he gazed at Hercules with solemn eyes.
"I know, my friend, we've got to get him help. I have to take him out of here so I can see where he's hurt." Hercules said. He moved Iolaus to the entrance of the cave and carefully lay him there. He eased himself through the opening, let the wolf scurry past him, then pulled Iolaus through, into the daylight.
Dark circles stood out beneath his eyes in the ashen complexion. Hercules observed the swollen, raw wound on the smaller man' s shoulder and cleansed it as best as he could. He further examined the rest of Iolaus' body and found the sticky blood soaked into the leather trousers. The cloth Iolaus had stuck into the hip wound hung partially outside the waistband, revealing the location of the second wound to Hercules. He washed what he could of the blood from that one too, but had no bandages with which to cover either one. Resolutely, he scooped the hunter into his arms and set out in the direction of the village, the wolf loping behind in his wake.
Hemnor put down the parchment he was reading, his concentration distracted by his earlier conversation with Hercules. It had been hours since the big man had left to search for Iolaus and Hemnor found himself becoming more concerned with the lack of news. He rose and put a kettle to heat over the fireplace for tea. When the water began to boil, he set the pot aside and ladled out a cupful.
Dropping the tea leaves in to steep, Hemnor made his way back to the writing table. It was almost two years ago since he had first met Hercules and Iolaus in a tavern in town. A couple of the patrons had decided that the days receipts belonged in their pockets and had robbed the owner. The two warriors had come in just as ruffians had completed their deed and were making their escape. Hemnor had seen it all. When the owner appealed to the two men for their help, Herc and Iolaus had wasted no time dispatching the participants. When he dicovered who Hercules and Iolaus were, he, Hemnor, sought to gain their help for the sake of the Golden Hind. He'd felt sorry for the poor creature, even though he respected the fact that she could be dangerous to men. Being the last of her kind made for a tempting target, and Hemnor hadn't liked the odds of about 30 or 40 men against one person. So the warriors had agreed to rescue her and the rest was history.
Hemnor, like any who came to know Hercules, liked the man for his sense of fairness and justice. At first he found it hard to understand Herc's hyperactive companion, but later recognized Iolaus' stubborness as a safety valve the little man clung to in order to keep his brush with death in closer perspective. When they had parted ways, Iolaus surprised him with a warm handshake and a genuine gratitude for the care Hemnor gave him when he was shot by the arrow.
He sipped his tea and again took up the parchment. He hoped that Hercules' Fears were for naught and that Iolaus would be safe and sound. It was late afternoon when he stopped to take a break and stepped outside for a breath of 'fresh air.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw Hercules coming down the road, the limp bundle in his arms portending bad news. He hastened to meet the demi-god halfway, took one look at Iolaus' pallid face and bloodied clothes and silently motioned Hercules to follow him into the house. Hercules deposited his wounded friend on the villager' s cot, dumped the packs and sword on the floor near the table, then began to strip off the stricken man' s clothes. Hemnor set the pot back on the hook to reheat and together they thoroughly bathed Iolaus' body. Hemnor made poultices to draw out the infection in both of the wounds and wrapped the injuries in fresh bandages. Iolaus resumed his incoherent mutterings, the fever dangerously high. He twisted and moaned pitifully. Hercules tried to feed him somemore water, but Iolaus was too far out of it to accept it.
"Hercules, we've got to get his fever down or we'll lose him. Go to the well and get as much as that bucket will hold and bring it back here. The only way to help him is to cover him in cold cloths. He's also dehydrated and we'11 need to get him to drink as much as he can. The colder the better." Hemnor directed, seeing the worry in the tall man' s face. Hercules nodded reluctantly, but seized the bucket and did as he was told. At the well, he hauled up the water and poured it into Hemnor's bucket. As he turned to head back to the house, the silver wolf stood before him in the middle of the street and howled plaintively. Hercules had forgotten the poor animal in his haste to aid Iolaus. Now he could see several of the villagers shying away from the creature, frightened by the fact that he was this close to the town in the first place.
'He's here for Iolaus' Hercules thought. He was not certain if the wolf would come to him but Herc whistled to him anyway. The animal ceased his baying and limped over to the son of Zeus. Hercules called to him and the wolf followed him inside the house. Hemnor had been bent over Iolaus and straightened up as Hercules came through the door. The villager froze at the sight of a huge wolf standing on the top step of the landing.
"Uh-Hercules?" he could only stammer. Hercules looked up , then followed Hemnor's tense stare. Hercules smiled apologetically.
"Oh, it's okay, Hemnor. That wolf saved both Iolaus' and my lives. It's a long story for later. He's injured too, by the same men who hurt Iolaus. I'll see to him once we get Iolaus settled." Hercules explained. Hemnor opened his mouth to reply, thought better of it and resumed his ministrations to Iolaus. Hercules glanced at him sideways and chuckled. Hemnor just shook his head.
It was well past the midnight hour when Iolaus' fever finally broke and he fell into a deeper, exhausted sleep. Hemnor changed the bandages again and covered the shivering man with a warm blanket. Hercules had not been idle either. As promised, he had removed Iolaus' crude bandage on the wolf's leg, cleansed it and wrapped a fresh bandage around it. He imposed on Hemnor to supply him with a blanket for the wolf, which he lay in the corner. The location suited the animal, in that it was out of the way, but still in view of the injured hunter.
"So tell me, Hercules, how'd you two befriend this wild fellow? Wolves don't just walk up to people and say, 'Let's be friends'." Hemnor asked. He and Hercules had settled for a light meal of cheese, chicken and fruit, along with a hot mug of tea. Hercules glanced over at his sleeping partner.
"I'm not really sure. When I'd encountered those three men, who I discovered had stolen Iolaus' sword and pack, they gave me no choice but to fight to get them back. One of them tried to skewer me with a knife while my back was turned. Out of nowhere comes this wolf and he leaps on the guy and proceeds to tear out his throat. For some reason, he merely approaches my hand and wants to be petted. I'm amazed at how he could distinguish enemy from friend. I guess he wanted to pay back those who shot him."
"Maybe he sensed your god-like connections, Hercules." Hemnor interrupted with a grin. Hercules laughed softly.
"Maybe you're right. Anyway, I didn't know he knew where Iolaus was until I saw the part of his torn vest tied around the wolf's leg. The curious thing about him was that he seemed to read my thoughts concerning Iolaus and literally took me by the arm to him. As it turned out, he'd been sheltering Iolaus in his den and it was probably chance that brought him to my aid. His obvious concern for Iolaus is the most startling thing, especially since he risked coming to town where his natural enemy, men, resides." Hemnor nodded thoughtfully.
"Does Iolaus always have this affect on animals or is it just a coincidence?" he asked in awe.
"Iolaus could charm a hydra-well almost, anyway." Hercules replied with a smile. "Seriously, though, maybe they both realized the other was injured and settled for a truce. It's a rare thing, but I've heard it does happen and to the unlikeliest of individuals. I think survival is the operative word here and they both needed each other for that purpose. It's Iolaus' other name!" Hemnor nodded again and clapped Hercules on the shoulder.
"Well, I think he's past the danger point, Hercules. Why don't you try and get some rest. I'll keep an eye on him, should he awaken. If he was in trouble, I think our friend there would be carrying on. If he's that attentive to Iolaus as you say, he'd know if Iolaus needed help." Hemnor indicated the wolf. Hercules glanced over at the drowsing wolf. His head was lowered on his front paws and his eyes blinked sleepily at the two men. A bowl of fresh water sat close by.
"I think you're right on both counts. I could use the sleep. Thanks for all you've done for us." Hercules replied gratefully. He rose and moved over to where the wolf lay and settled wearily beside him, much to Hemnor's chagrin.
It was late the following morning when Iolaus opened his eyes. There was a familiarity to his surroundings, but he was still a bit disoriented to care about figuring it out. He did realize that he was safe and warm and felt the thick bandages on his wounds. He shifted slightly to ease the stiffness in his back and was immediately reminded that his hip was far from healed. He grimaced. Someone moved to his side and Iolaus turned his head to his right to get a better view. Hemnor pulled up a chair next to the bed and offered a mug of something to him with a smile.
"We've really got to stop meeting like this, Iolaus. Thought you'd like some water so I kept it handy." Iolaus awarded him a tired grin and nodded. Hemnor helped him to drink and Iolaus murmured his thanks.
"Good to see you, too, Hemnor." came the whispered reply. Hemnor encouraged him to take several more sips, studying him thoughtfully. He placed the back of his hand on Iolaus' forehead to assure himself the fever had indeed dissipated. Satisfied with the results, he again spoke up.
"Hercules told me you'd been hiding out in a wolf's den after being injured. I almost didn't believe him until the wolf followed him home with you."
"Then it wasn't a dream- the wolf- the cave!" Iolaus interrupted with surprise. "Hercules-Where is he?"
"He's sleeping right now. Stayed up most of the night before last until your fever broke. He was pretty worried about you. So was your furry friend." Hemnor gestured over his shoulder.
"My furry friend? What do you mean?" Iolaus asked, perplexed. Then he followed the direction Hemnor indicated. Hercules lay curled up next to a silver wolf, who was watching Iolaus with his intense, golden eyes. Upon hearing the hunter's voice, he rose to his feet, stretched languidly, then padded softly over to the cot.
"It is true, Hemnor. He took care of me in that cave, although we've never crossed paths before. He even allowed me to remove an arrow from his leg. I guess I owe thanks to him, you and Hercules for saving my life. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world." Iolaus paused in weary gratitude. He reached a hand to the wolf.
"I owe you one, buddy. Gotta sleep now, though. Don't worry. I'll be okay..."
He ran his fingers under the wolf's chin, then drifted off to sleep. Hemnor readjusted the blanket, drawing it higher to cover Iolaus' shoulders. He glanced at the wolf, then dared to reach out to pet his head.
"You needn't worry, big fella. He will be fine. I'll bet you're pretty hungry, aren't you? Come on then. I've some spare chicken set aside for you." He waved his hand towards the pantry. The wolf licked his lips, his ears perking up, then trailed Hemnor to the table. The villager set a large plate of meat scraps before him which he made short work of. Hemnor refilled the plate and watched the wolf clean that up too.
"Looks like you've made a friend." Hercules mused from across the room. Hemnor scratched his head, eyeing him askance.
"It certainly does appear that way, doesn't it?" he replied in awe. "I didn't know you were awake." Hercules stood up, working the kinks out of his muscles.
"I only heard what you said to the wolf. How's Iolaus?" he inquired.
"He's okay, Hercules. He managed a little water and even reassured the wolf that he would make it. Then he went back to sleep." Hemnor stated.
Hercules moved to the side of the bed. He fondly looked down upon the blond man' s face. Though pale, he appeared to be resting comfortably. With a featherlight touch, Hercules gently brushed a few strands of the tousled hair from his companion's forehead. Iolaus stirred at his touch and opened his eyes. They lit up like blue beacons of joy at the sight of his friend.
"Hey, Herc!" was all he could manage and smiled broadly. Hercules sat in the chair recently vacated by Hemnor.
"Hey, yourself." he replied warmly. "Sorry. I hadn't meant to disturb you just yet. You really should go back to sleep. You lost enough blood from those wounds and should try to drink some more water." While he spoke, he offered the smaller man some more of the refreshing liquid. Iolaus swallowed several sips with his help. Hercules continued.
"When you didn't show up as planned, I began to sense that you might be in trouble, so I went looking. I was sure you were in danger when those three ruffians tried to ambush me with your sword and their arrows. If it wasn't for your wolf- friend there, one of them would surely have stuck me like a pig. He killed the man. Then he led me to your hiding place." Iolaus contemplated the great beast.
"I kinda fell into his lair and passed out. He was cuddled up next to me when I woke up. Strange, how he seemed to know I needed help. Those guys shot me for no reason, then stalked me like I was some kinda prey. I lost my sword and stuff when I had to escape their arrows. Too bad I also lost the best catch of the day and my fishing line. I almost had him reeled in when those jerks showed up." Iolaus uttered in a fatigued voice. He paused to catch his breath. Hercules shook his his head and held up the sword. Iolaus grinned appreciatively.
"Iolaus, I'm worried about how close you came to dying and all you can talk about is a lost fish?."' Iolaus raised his uninjured arm in a shrug and measured a length between that hand and the other.
"Big, Herc. Like so." he breathed, a twinkle in his weary eyes. Hercules just ran his fingers through his hair and couldn't hold the frown that had creased his brow. It relieved him to see that Iolaus retained his usual sense of humor, despite all that he'd been through. Herc chuckled at his friend and Hemnor's rich laughter joined in.
They spent the next week in the company of the villager, giving Iolaus time to recuperate and regain his strength. Hemnor had carved a crutch for the hunter to use when the little warrior insisted he was strong enough to travel again. The kind man also filled their carrysacks with enough food for their journey home, even though he had his doubts about Iolaus' readiness to travel. But he kept his concerns to himself and didn't argue with the little man.
Hercules, too, worried about his friend, and while Iolaus was out of earshot, assured Hemnor that he would make certain Iolaus did not push himself beyond his limitations. During the last few days of their stay, the wolf had been allowed to come and go as he pleased. On the day before they set out for home, however, he had not returned. The two warriors bid farewell to their host with firm handshakes and set out at a comfortable pace to accommodate Iolaus.
They traveled nearly a full day, stopping to eat and rest whenever Iolaus tired. To Hercules' surprise, Iolaus' usually bubbly chatter had been subdued. Hercules attributed it at first, to his friend's attempt to conserve his energy, but later began to worry that he was sickening again. He called a halt soon after they had resumed their journey following lunch. Iolaus gave him a questioning stare.
"Why'd we stop already? Is something wrong?" he asked. Hercules studied him thoughtfully.
"No, not really. I was just wondering if there was something bothering you. You've been kinda quiet since we left Hemnor's. Are you in pain?"
Iolaus shook his head. "No. No more than can be expected from these injuries." He paused, then grinned slightly. "I guess I was sort of missing our wolf friend. You know, he showed up right about the time we needed him and disappeared just as mysteriously, when things got back to normal. I only wish that we could have said a final farewell, that's all." Iolaus lowered his eyes, pretending to adjust his crutch. Hercules draped an arm across his shoulders.
"We already did, Iolaus, by taking care of his injury too. Maybe he sensed that we'd be okay and no longer needed his help. Likewise, he was probably telling us that he no longer needed ours and that it was time for him to leave. I'm glad he was there when we needed him, or else I would never have found you in time." This Hercules stated with a hint of emotion in his voice. Iolaus glanced up at Herc's warm smile and flashed his own brilliant grin.
"Me too." he replied with equal affection. They continued on until nightfall, settling into camp for the evening. The full moon began her ascent from behind a small hill, just above the clearing they had chosen. They ate a light meal next to a small fire. Suddenly, their warriors' cautious senses keyed up and brought them to full alertness. They felt, rather than saw, the object of their concern. The moonlight bathed the clearing, revealing the silvery figure gliding easilyinto their midst from the trees, to stand boldly next to the fire. He went first to Hercules and nudged his arm. When the demi-god stroked his silvery coat, the wolf licked his hand in reply. Hercules smiled and looked to Iolaus.
The wolf also eyed his companion. Iolaus' face beamed with delight. The sleek animal padded over to Iolaus' side. He pushed himself into the man's lap carefully avoiding his injuries, as though knowing not to touch him there. Iolaus hugged the gentle beast, who licked his face like a domestic puppy. The thick tail wagged happily.
"Thanks, ole buddy, for saving my life. I'll never forget you!" Iolaus murmured, tears sparkling his blue eyes. The wolf whimpered softly, licked Iolaus' cheek again and pulled himself gently from the hunter's embrace. He moved to the other side of the fire, uttered a soft "woof" then dashed away into the night.
Too full of amazement, the two men silently savored this rare communion with nature. They pulled their blankets up over their legs and were about to lay down to sleep, when Hercules touched Iolaus' arm and pointed.
"Look there." he whispered softly. Iolaus glanced at the direction he indicated. Silhouetted against the creamy white beacon of the moon, stood the lone figure of their lupine friend. He raised his muzzle in praise of the goddess, Athena, and sang the wolf song of joy and hope. Then with a last glance in the direction of the glade, he disappeared behind the hill.
Herc and Iolaus shared a deep, silent, ardent gaze and settled into a peaceful, sound sleep. Once more the silhouette appeared above the hill, to stand sentinal until the first pink light of dawn touched the sky.
FINIS
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