Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 02 (19 page)

When he released her, Zarel tensed as if to charge.

"I don't care if you're a woman or not," Hercules warned with a growl, and showed her his fist. "I've no time to be polite. Don't. Move."

The rage in her eyes slipped quickly into outright fear, and she obeyed, frozen as a statue, lower lip quivering violently.

Meanwhile, Iolaus had been backed against the doors by the two remaining rebels, one wildly swinging a sword at his midsection while the other danced from side to side, looking for a way to slip his own weapon under Iolaus' guard.

"Hey!" Iolaus called when he saw Hercules watching.

Hercules waved.

Iolaus frowned, ducked, lashed out with a foot, ducked, sidestepped, and yelled, "Hey!"

Hercules walked over to Rotus and planted a boot on his back when he noticed the man beginning to stir.

"Hey, dammit!"

Hercules pointed at the fallen leader. "I've got my hands full."

Iolaus rolled his eyes in disgust, dodged a swing, ducked another, hesitated just long enough for one of the men to lunge, then sidestepped again.

The rebel sword stabbed into the door, snapping in half and momentarily stunning its wielder. That was just long enough for Iolaus to put a foot into the rebel's chest and tumble him backward, allowing him, Iolaus, to turn his full attention to the second man.

Who, as it turned out, wasn't too happy about such attention.

He backed away.

Iolaus' lips parted in a shark's smile, and he stepped forward.

The rebel spun around to run, saw Hercules, spun back to defend himself, and dropped instantly when Iolaus clubbed him right in the center of his forehead.

For a second the only noise was the sound of harsh breathing. And a couple of faint moans. And the muffled roar of the crowd.

Iolaus stomped over to Hercules, not bothering to step over the bodies he encountered.

"You could have helped."

Hercules pointed downward. "I didn't want him to get away."

"You're standing on him, for crying out loud! How's he going to get away?"

"If I helped you, I wouldn't be standing on him."

Frustrated, Iolaus slapped his thigh. "I have to do everything around here, don't I? Everything." He checked himself over and groaned. "Look at me! I'm all sweaty! How am I going to judge those women when I'm all sweaty!"

"Venitia will love it."

Iolaus glared. "Not funny, Herc. Not funny."

Hercules thought it was, but Iolaus obviously wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. So he suggested they summon the guards to take care of the prisoners so they themselves could get back outside and prepare for the next step.

Iolaus agreed, then stepped back and looked askance at his friend. "But you're not going to tell me this was part of the plan."

Hercules shrugged.

Iolaus pointed a trembling finger at him. "You ..." He pointed at Rotus. "He ..." He pointed at the doors just as the left one swung open. "They..." He slumped a little. "Not part of the plan."

"We knew they were coming."

"We
thought
they
might
come."

"They did, right?"

Iolaus' face reddened. "But it wasn't part of the plan!"

Hercules exaggerated a scowl. "Iolaus. You're starting to sound like Titus."

Iolaus looked close to exploding.

"Relax," Hercules told him, and waved at the guards, who ran into the corridor, stopped, gaped, and by their expressions couldn't figure out what to do next. A few words from Hercules told them all they needed to know; by the time Iolaus had recovered his composure, the rebels were trussed and ranged against the wall.

"Hercules."

He looked up; it was Jocasta.

"They're ready," she said, glancing at the scene as if she were used to seeing the results of a brawl. Then she spotted Rotus and walked over to him, gathering her shawl around her as if it were armor. "You murdered Jax," she said.

Rotus sneered. "He was a traitor, just like you."

Hercules and Iolaus saw her face at the same time, exchanged glances that suggested they probably didn't want to know what was going to happen next, and backed away toward the exit just as Titus stepped in.

"What.. . ?" Flustered and confused, he looked from his wife to the fallen rebels to Hercules and back to his wife. "Oh, my."

"It's over," Hercules told him. "The rebellion is over."

The councillor blinked several times. ' 'They would have tried to ... ?" He pointed at his chest.

"Yes."

"Oh, my."

"Don't get too confident, sir," Iolaus said then. "This is only the beginning."

Once the guards had been given their instructions, Hercules and the others returned to the porch. Jocasta immediately went to the guests, to assure them nothing was wrong, just a small problem.

Hercules held Titus back with a touch. "We know about Cire," he said, barely moving his lips, smiling at those who had turned to stare.

"Ah." Titus clasped his hands at his waist and nodded. "Ah."

"I don't understand. Why take a bribe?"

Titus' smile was brief and rueful. "There is no pension for a tyrant, Hercules. Our house here isn't ours; everything is paid for by the city." He shrugged. "Entirely my fault. When I realized this was the last time, I took a look at what we had, and what we didn't have, and ..." He spread his hands. "I panicked."

"Herc," Iolaus said anxiously, halfheartedly waving to an impatient Venitia. "We don't have much time."

"The plan," Titus said.

Hercules nodded. "Tell your captain not to be too anxious when he sees what's about to happen. We'll take care of it."

"Unless he falls off," Iolaus said sourly.

Titus frowned. "The captain?"

Hercules sighed. "Look, just do it, Titus. The less you know, the better it will be. And whatever you do," he added, "do
not
pick a new queen."

Titus opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. He gathered his robes about him and, with a sickly smile, said, "I'm confused, but I'm in charge." And strode away.

Iolaus rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "Did he say what I thought he said?"

"He did."

"We're doomed, Herc. We're doomed."

There was, however, no time for debate.

Titus herded summer queen contestants away from their table and lined them up along the top of the first step, facing the plaza. The crowd screamed and cheered, banging drums and tooting horns for their favorites. Then he beckoned Iolaus and Hercules to his side. The crowd screamed and cheered, banging drums and tooting horns and waving ribbons and streamers. Slipping easily into the role, Iolaus waved both arms and grinned while the crowd screamed and cheered and tooted horns and banged drums, and Hercules felt the beginning of a monumental headache.

He also saw the storm clouds.

They were darker.

And closer.

As Iolaus studied each woman, one hand behind his back, the other stroking his chin, Hercules looked to the head of the boulevard. The small group of people there were tooting and cheering just as robustly as those in the stands, but he could see the empty street behind them.

He could see the approaching horseman.

Glancing skyward, he silently offered a simple prayer for forgiveness from Demeter and Poseidon.

The breeze grew stronger, and he swept a hand over his face to keep the hair from his eyes. At the same time he caught Iolaus' eye with a stern look that told him to hurry it up, this wasn't the only task they had to perform tonight.

Iolaus nodded almost imperceptibly and stood with his back to the crowd, facing the nervous women.

He smiled at them all.

He smiled at the redhead in front of him, although the smile faltered somewhat when he saw the redhead standing next to the redhead in front of him.

Twins? Hercules thought; nobody told us there were twins.

He shifted over to Iolaus.

"Well," Iolaus said. "Will you look at this?"

"Lovely," Hercules answered, making a show for the crowd of being unable to make up his mind.

Which he couldn't. Because neither of the redheads gave a sign to let him know which was which. Cire, apparently, had strong doubts about the plan.

Then the redhead on the left muttered, "By the gods, will you hurry up, it's freezing out here."

Iolaus grinned, and held out his hand to the redhead on the right.

Cire gasped and almost took a step back, until Hercules said, "Congratulations, you'll be fine."

She didn't move for several seconds.

"Damn," Sana muttered. "I knew I should have worn the one without the top."

Iolaus sputtered, but his hand remained steady.

Finally, doubtfully, Cire took it.

The plaza exploded in a frenzy of cheers and screams, the guests rose to their feet and applauded, trumpets were sounded from the roof of the council building, the women who hadn't been chosen were discreetly eased away by several acolytes, and Titus stepped forward to place an exquisitely wrought gold-leaf crown on Cire's head.

Hercules hadn't thought the noise could get any louder.

It did.

Then Iolaus, murmuring assurances to an obviously terrified Cire, led her grandly down the steps and across the tiles to the shrine in the plaza's center.

Hercules, with a reminding look at Titus, followed more slowly, amazed at the exuberant greeting the Themonians gave their new summer queen. He hadn't taken more than a few steps before he was nearly blinded by a blizzard of flowers and blossoms thrown by nearly everyone in the crowd.

All right, he thought as he stopped halfway down; now Holix, where are—

He was distracted by a commotion at the plaza's south end, and did his best not to betray his great relief when a huge white horse forced its way through the gathering there and galloped across the ground. On its back rode a man swathed in black from head to boot, one hand on the animal's reins, the other waving wildly over his head.

The crowd was stunned into astonished silence.

He charged the shrine just as Iolaus moved to help Cire climb onto it.

Iolaus backed away fearfully.

The rider swung around the shrine and with his free arm scooped Cire onto his mount in front of him.

Wonderful, Hercules thought even as he raced down the steps; just keep going, boy, just keep going.

And, he added when he saw the guards sweeping belatedly down the steps behind him, hurry it up, you idiot.

Holix did.

He completed his taunting circuit of the shrine, shouted something incomprehensible, and charged for the boulevard, Cire clinging desperately to the horse's mane.

"Beautiful," Hercules said as he came up beside Iolaus. "Beautiful."

Iolaus, doing a great job of looking as if he'd just been highly and expertly insulted, agreed. "As long as he makes it."

"He will."

They raced around the shrine as if attempting to catch the outlaw rider, and stopped when the horse did.

Holix shouted something again.

The horse reared and kicked out its forelegs. It was an impressive sight. Until Holix fell off..

No one in the plaza moved.

Except the pursuing guards, who swarmed across the tiles, armor clanking and leather creaking and red plumes bobbing, and surrounded Holix before he could get to his feet. Two grabbed the horse, and one gently eased Cire off the animal's back. By this time the audience had regained its senses and had begun to surge out of the stands and from their places behind the roping. Their intent was clear—take the rider from the guards and make sure he was never able to ride again by the simple expediency of removing his limbs, one joint at a time.

Suddenly Iolaus found himself having to maneuver the guards, and those reinforcements who quickly joined them, into a large circle to hold the maddened Themonians back. Hercules, meanwhile, hurried over to Holix and stood over him.

Holix smiled sheepishly. "I think I broke another rib."

Hercules knelt beside him and kept his voice low. "You were supposed to tie yourself on."

"But they'd see it," the young man protested in a whisper.

"You fell off."

Holix grimaced in pain. "Yeah. I noticed."

There was nothing else Hercules could do. The temptation to grab Cire and ride off himself died as soon as Titus arrived, huffing, red-faced, and using an elaborate pantomime both to tell the cheering-turned-snarling crowd that all was under control, and also to let Hercules know that if this was the plan, he hadn't a clue about what was going on.

Neither did Hercules.

By the time he was able to gather his wits about him and smack them a few times for coming up with this stupid plan in the first place, Titus had convinced most of the populace that this was, after all, only part of the show. Something new. Something exciting. When he was finished, the snarling had turned back to cheering, Cire had been put back on the thoroughly confused horse, and the judges were commanded to escort the summer queen to her holy site of contemplation.