Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 01 (19 page)

The captain paused, tapped his chin thoughtfully with a finger, then nodded once and eventually led them to a plain, large oak door.

He asked Hercules to wait just a second, pulled the door open, and slipped inside.

Seconds later Hercules heard, ' 'He did . . .
what
? And you haven't killed him?"

This is getting tiresome, he thought, and entered the throne room without an invitation.

King Arclin II, puffed with indignation, sat rigidly on his throne, wearing a voluminous white gown embroidered with blinding silver and tiny gold stars. The captain knelt before the dais, quivering violently.

"You!" the king said, just a half note above a squeak. "How dare you!"

Hercules marched down the center of the room, dropped Zorin beside the captain, stepped up to the throne, reached down with both hands, and picked the king up so that they were facing each other.

The king squawked a garbled order to the captain, who, except for the quivering, didn't move a muscle.

"It's very simple," Hercules said in his most intimidating deep voice. "I know what you've been up to, I know what you two have planned, and you know now that it isn't going to work because I know it, too."

Arclin's face reddened, and his feet kept trying to find something to stand on. "This is . . . I'll have you

... my people ..."

Hercules shook him a little.

Arclin sputtered, and his crown fell off.

"How old are you?" Hercules asked, inspiration abruptly drawing the intimidation away.

The king said, "You're tearing my royal robe."

Hercules smiled, and carefully lowered the king back onto his throne. "You're not yet twenty years, am I right?"

Arclin fussed with his clothing, refusing to answer, then yelped, stood, turned and picked up his crown, put it on, and sat again.

"I'll bet your father was pretty hard on you, wasn't he? The old king."

"You can say that again," Arclin said. Then he looked around Hercules and added, "Oh, Captain, do get up. And find some chains for that man there. Big chains. Heavy chains. Really, really heavy chains."

Hercules tapped his shoulder to regain his attention, and the young king started, wide-eyed, frightened.

"The people here, they loved him, didn't they? Your father, I mean."

Arclin pouted. "Yes, I suppose so."

"He never had any trouble, did he?"

A moment: "No. I suppose not."

"So you're mad because they don't love you like they loved him."

"Well..." Arclin glared, then fell back wearily. "Yes. I try, you know. I want them to have more land to live on, I want them to have more money, I don't tax them all that much . . . and all they ever say is, 'Well, he's not like his father, is he?' all the time. Do you know how frustrating that is?"

Hercules couldn't help a quick laugh. "Believe me, Majesty, I know exactly how frustrating that is."

Arclin frowned, then looked at the ceiling. "Oh. Oh, yes, I guess you might."

The captain and a score of his men returned with enough chain to sink a fleet.

"All right," Hercules said, ignoring the clatter and complaints behind him, "here's how it works, and I'm only going to say this once. Pay attention to what you have and forget trying to take over the world.

At least," he added with a wry smile, "for now.

"And stop trying to be like your father. You're not. You're you. Pretty obvious when you think about it, but sometimes recognizing the obvious is the hardest lesson to learn. You do what you think is right, what you think is best for your people, and if your father taught you anything at all, everything will be just fine."

Arclin squirmed. "Yeah. I guess."

Hercules leaned closer, and lowered his voice. "Don't guess. Because if you don't do it, little majesty, I'm always closer than you think."

He smiled, but there was no humor.

Arclin blanched.

The captain gratefully announced that the prisoner was ready for taking to the dungeon.

Arclin looked at Hercules, wondering, then shrugging. "I hate it when I'm not right," he said, although he said it with the ghost of a smile.

Hercules straightened and held out his hand.

Arclin blanched.

Hercules laughed.

The captain, begging enough forgiveness to choke a temple, wanted to know what they should do with Zorin.

A long silence, a longer debate Hercules saw in the king's expression.

Then: "Lock him up, Captain. Lock him up." And he added, "And listen to me very carefully—he will
not
escape. Whoever he once was, he isn't Zorin any longer."

Then he shook Hercules' hand.

A strong grip, Hercules noted with pleasure; the kid will do all right.

Graciously, and with a regret that took him by surprise, he begged off an invitation to a feast the king decided to have that very night, in celebration of Zorin's capture and the end of his reign of terror. There was a long road ahead, he explained, and he wanted to get on it before the sun rose much farther.

"A lady?" the king asked hopefully.

Hercules paused at the throne room door. "No, Majesty, just another promise to keep."

Arclin waved.

Hercules returned the wave and left.

•

•

•

An hour later he found the captain of the guard and said, "If you don't get me out of this maze, and right now, I'm going to dent you."

That night he camped alone, lying on his back, staring at the moon and the stars. The solitude was wonderful, the fact that he didn't have to do anything, save anyone, fight anyone, was more wonderful stiff.

He had stopped early, had dozed a while, but the same weariness that weighted his eyelids refused to permit him the sleep he sorely needed.

Which, he thought sourly when something twinged in his left leg, was probably not the best choice of words he could have come up with.

"Lazy, are we?"

Hercules didn't bother to turn his head. "Did you get the Fire back?"

"Has the world blown up?"

"I hope he was properly grateful." He shifted just enough to able to stare at the wings on Hermes'

sandais. It was unnerving; in his exhaustion, it looked as if they were staring back. Both the wings, and the sandals.

"He said to tell you he owes you one."

"At least one."

"He's also going to find another summer home. He says that one was too noisy."

Hercules yawned so loudly his jaw popped. And those damn wings were still looking at him.

"And Aphrodite wants to know when you're going to come for another picnic. She thinks she has Hephaestos almost convinced to give this world another chance."

Hercules smiled. "A miracle. I'll go as soon as I can. Next season, maybe."

Hermes leaned over so Hercules could see him. "She'd like that, I think." His expression sobered. "Are you all right?" The face disappeared for a moment. "Gods and little fishes, man, you're not all right, are you? Who dressed this wound here? Disgusting. Where's the ointment for those cuts and scratches?" One of the sandals stamped the ground angrily. "I have never in my life seen a man who needs a nursemaid more. Honestly. Some people."

"Hermes." Hercules yawned again. "Hermes, go. And thank you for all your help."

"No problem. I'd say no sweat, but I just came from the forge. Honestly. Do you think it would kill him to have just one fan lying around?"

Hercules drifted as Hermes went on, thinking it curious that a pair of snakes with nasty red eyes were able to fly in front of him like that. Without wings. A lovely pattern, though. An intricate pattern. Difficult to follow. He must remember to ask them how it was done.

But first he needed to rest his eyes and...

... when he opened them again, and the sun was up.

The sun was up, his muscles weren't sore, there was no gash on his shoulder, and most of the cuts and scratches had already faded.

By his side lay one of Hermes' special meals, cold but delicious.

"Thanks, brother," he whispered as he took to the road again. "I guess I owe you one, too."

Bestor was the first to spot him as he approached the village; before he had reached the square, he suspected the entire community had left home and shop and farm to greet him. Their effusive thanks was embarrassing, and he was grateful when they finally allowed him to take a seat by the well.

"Bones," Bestor announced, grinning broadly. "I have bones." He reached into the folds of his shirt and pulled out a pair of bones through which a hole had been bored and a leather thong attached. "A toy, see?"

Hercules blinked. "Is t ha t . . . ? " He frowned. "No, it couldn't be." His frown deepened. "It isn't, is it?

The bones you . .. ?"

The boy grinned slyly, refusing to admit or deny. "I wanted something to remember you by." He looked away briefly, the toy momentarily forgotten in his lap. "In case you didn't come back."

"Well, I am back. For a while, anyway." He put an arm around the boy's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ' 'I had to see if you were taking care of your father."

Bestor blushed.

"And," Hercules added, "that you hadn't become an urchin."

Bestor blushed so vividly, Hercules feared the boy's face would burst into flame. He laughed, gratefully accepted a cup of water fresh from the well, and scanned the crowd for signs of Nikos.

"So where is your father?" he asked, thinking it odd the man hadn't come to greet him.

"Well..."

A spark of cold grew in his stomach. ' 'He did get back all right, didn't he?"

Bestor nodded. "Yes, sir, he sure did. But he's not here, see, because..." He grinned, and pointed.

It was then that Hercules realized that the square had been decorated with banners and garlands, that there were long tables set around the perimeter, and that most of the villagers were definitely not wearing what they normally would if they had been working.

He frowned. "I don't get it."

A woman's voice said, "Timing, Hercules. It's all in the timing."

Dutricia squeezed onto the bench beside him. She wore a stunning gown of deepest blue, and a neckline that, he noted while trying not to stare, made
plummet
look like an imposter. She giggled at his stricken look, bumped shoulders with him, and said, "Don't worry, it's not for you."

"It's for them!" Bestor cried, fairly bouncing with excitement.

The crowd parted to allow him to see Nikos and Lydia standing beneath the overhang at the inn.

There was no doubt why they were so elegantly dressed.

They waved, and he nodded, rose, and met them halfway.

"It's an honor, Hercules," Nikos said, hugging his new wife to his side.

"No, it's my privilege to be here," Hercules answered, and held up a hand to forestall the obvious questions. "Later, my friend. I'll tell you all about it later."

And he did, and Markan rejoiced, and when the wedding celebration was at its height, Hercules slipped away. This was no time to claim the attention the couple deserved. He had already promised he would return one day. He intended to keep it.

But for now, neither they nor Markan needed him any longer, and he took the road to the intersection, looked west and decided he had had enough of that for one lifetime, and headed east instead.

He didn't know what was out there, what he would see when the sun rose again, whom he would meet while on the road, but he had no doubt it wouldn't be dull.

He had no magic.

He didn't need it.

Just being Hercules was enough to guarantee the destiny that walked at his side.

On the other hand . .., he thought when he heard the wings behind him.

“Hercules?'

"Go away."

"I can't. I have a message."

"I don't want to hear it."

"
But
—"

"Go away. I won't listen."

"But
—
"

"By the gods, Hermes, haven't you had enough of me for a while? Go. Away."

"All right, if you won't listen to the message—and I assure you, you'll be sorry, the embellishments are quite good—let me talk to you about that tailor."

"What tailor?"

"The one who's going to make sure you at least look presentable the next time you have to save the world."

Hercules threw up his hands, and Hermes laughed as he settled beside him.

"You won't be sorry, you know."

"Don't bet on it, brother."

A few yards later he pointed at Hermes. ' 'No kilts, though. I will absolutely not wear a kilt."

"Wouldn't think of it. It's not you. I have seen, however, the most smashing tunic in Corinth. A few alterations, a nip and a tuck, with those muscles you'll look so good I'm speechless already."

"I'm blessed, Hermes. I'm blessed."

"Not while you're still wearing that dreadful yellow."