Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 02 (7 page)

"I've been thinking," Iolaus said.

"I know."

"You do?"

"Yep."

"How do you know?"

"Because, Iolaus, you've been thinking all day. Aloud. Constantly. I'd have to be deaf not to know you've been thinking."

"Well, if you're so smart, what exactly have I been thinking about?"

Hercules was tired. The sun was warm this close to the sea, the breeze virtually nonexistent, and the lunch they had had at the last village would have been better if it had been served in the underworld as a punishment for dead gluttons. He hadn't said this, of course, since that would probably have caused some kind of revolution, and he would have been the one to get the blame.

His mood, to be charitable, was a little on the sour side.

"Well?"

He sighed. "All right. First, you thought it would be a good thing if I let you do all the judging. In secret, of course. You figured it would be unfair for someone like me to be part of a contest that involved ceremonies for the gods. A conflict of interest, I believe you called it, right?"

"Right," Iolaus said grudgingly.

"Then you thought that wouldn't work, because then I wouldn't meet any of the ladies in the contest.

Which, you claimed, would be bad for me, because I've been alone for too long, and I know that was my mother talking, not you, so we're not even going to discuss it."

"Right," Iolaus said grumpily.

"Then you said—"

"Boy, you really have been listening, haven't you?"

"Hush. I'm doing your thinking, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"Then you wondered about those bandits yesterday. That red design on their masks must mean something, you said, and you've been trying to figure out exactly what that was."

"Well, you never know, Hercules. They might be members of some mysterious army we'd be duty bound to get rid of before they caused too much trouble."

"Them? Trouble?"

Iolaus laughed. "All right. In theory."

Hercules nodded and continued: "Then you decided, if they were really part of some army, we wouldn't have to worry about them because they weren't all that good in the first place. Which, you also decided, meant that the fight we had yesterday must mean something else besides a simple waylaying of travelers."

"Well, that makes sense, doesn't it?"

"I don't know."

"I think it does."

"I know. I heard you. I also heard you wonder why there weren't more people on the road. We're heading in the right direction, and the festival is only a few days away, so we ought to be seeing more people."

"That's right."

"So you wonder if we're late. Or if those bandits have anything to do with it."

"So? That makes sense, too, doesn't it?"

"I guess so. I'm still working out the judging thing."

"Then you'd better hurry up."

"Why?"

"Because they're going to try again."

"What, the judging?"

Iolaus pointed. "No, the fighting." Some fifty yards back, the bandits had been hiding in a shallow ditch, camouflaged by branches. As Iolaus pointed they threw their cover aside and boiled onto the road, sprinting toward the two men. Most of them sprinted, anyway. Others limped a little, and one moved at a really fast walk.

Iolaus scowled. "I don't think they're going to split up."

Hercules agreed. Unfortunately it appeared as if the bandits had learned a lesson from their encounter the day before. When Iolaus made to charge, Hercules held out an arm to stop him. "Wait," he said.

At forty yards the bandits, waving their swords and staffs and a couple of clubs, began to yell.

"Not yet," Hercules whispered when he felt Iolaus tense.

At thirty yards the runners had outpaced the limpers and the walker.

Iolaus began to bounce on his toes, slapping his sword from one hand to the other.

"Easy," Hercules cautioned.

At twenty yards the runners slowed down a little to allow the limpers to catch up.

There was doubt in their eyes; Hercules could see it, and when their yelling faltered he could almost hear them wondering why those two fools weren't running away or looking for a boulder or fallen tree for protection.

They were confused.

"Hercules?" Iolaus said, doubt in his voice as well.

The bandits didn't stop.

And Hercules said, "Now!"

He had given himself and Iolaus just enough room to manage a headlong run, but not enough for the bandits to get out of the way.

Hercules snapped his arms out, catching the first two men across the chest and lifting them off their feet. By the time they landed, his head was down and he slammed into the next two with his shoulders, knocking them to the ground as well. Then he whirled and saw Iolaus struggling beneath three of them while two others lay on the road, groaning.

It was almost too easy.

He hurried over and grabbed one bandit by the belt and nape, heaved him off the pile, then grabbed the next by the long tail of his mask. This one he yanked backward, allowing Iolaus to roll to his feet and plant a swift side kick into his opponent's stomach.

"Thanks," Iolaus said, panting.

Hercules gave him an
anytime
wave and turned to face one of the bandits he had already dealt with. The man swayed alarmingly as he tried to decide whether to charge or just throw the sword he carried and hope for the best.

"Don't," Hercules warned.

To his left he heard the sharp ring of blade against blade, glanced over just as Iolaus locked swords with a taller bandit, hooked a foot around the man's ankle, and brought him heavily to the ground. A quick thump with his free hand on the bandit's forehead made sure the man wouldn't move for a while.

Hercules' swordsman still hadn't decided what to do.

"You could leave, you know," Hercules suggested with a
suit yourself
tilt of his head.

The man blinked slowly, looked around at his fallen, moaning companions, and evidently came to the conclusion that he couldn't possibly ache much more than he already did.

He charged—or tried to.

Hercules sighed at his recklessness, and sidestepped when the bandit reached him, slapping his back hard and sending him sprawling off the road.

"Hey!" Iolaus shouted. "Hey!"

Hercules spun, fists at the ready, and saw a trio of bandits racing back down the road. They grabbed two kneeling companions and hauled them along. When he turned back, the others were already stumbling away in the other direction, Iolaus on their heels, yelling, until, at last, he slowed to a halt and let them go.

He sheathed his weapon as Hercules joined him. "I don't get it. I just don't get it."

Hercules took his arm, and they moved to the roadside, where they sat on a grassy rise to catch their breath. "Persistent, though."

"It's dumb, Herc." Iolaus shaded his eyes and peered up the road. "That's twice they've lost."

"And you're not happy?"

"Well... no," he admitted reluctantly. "I mean,
it's like
... I mean, they're ..." He looked up at his friend.

"I know this is going to sound silly, but they're no fun. They just don't know how to fight."

"If they did," Hercules pointed out, "we'd probably be dead."

"No, no, I don't think so. Cut a lot, maybe, and bruised a whole lot for sure, but I don't think we'd be dead."

Hercules laughed without a sound. Iolaus wasn't a bloodthirsty man, but he did enjoy a good fight. This band of men, on the other hand, hadn't even made them breathe very hard. It was like swatting a bunch of rambunctious kids.

Iolaus wiped his brow with one arm. "Do you think they'll be back?"

"I don't know." Hercules pushed his hair out of his eyes. "I sure hope not. One of them could get hurt."

"I know," Iolaus said sourly. "Imagine—if I really hurt one of those fools, I'm probably going to feel guilty." He chuckled at the irony, slapped his knees, and stood. Then he grabbed Hercules' arm and hauled him to his feet and back onto the road. ' 'Well, we'd better get a move on. The ladies await, and I don't want to show up with any more bruises than I have to."

"That would be awful."

"Are you kidding? Of course it would. How can I convince them of my sincerity if I look like the sur-vivor of a stampede?''

"You couldn't."

"Absolutely right."

"But how will they know the difference?" Iolaus looked at him, too shocked to speak until Hercules grinned. "A joke, Iolaus, it was a joke."

"Right." Iolaus nodded sharply. "I knew that."

A half mile later he said, "I look that bad, huh?"

Hercules couldn't stop the laughter, which doubled when he saw the indignant look on his friend's face.

He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, shook him a little, and suggested they make their last camp just this side of the gap. A good night's rest, an early start, and they would be in Themon by midday.

"That depends," Iolaus said.

"On what?"

"On whether you keep me up all night with your nightmares. Again."

Hercules said nothing, only gave him a somber look.

"It's Hera, isn't it?" Iolaus gestured wearily to forestall an answer. "You said her name last night."

"You weren't sleeping?"

"No. Not after a while."

For several minutes Hercules kept his own counsel, debating before finally describing his dream, and the feelings he'd had long before Iolaus had arrived at Alcmena's home.

"I knew it," Iolaus said miserably. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

Iolaus slapped his chest, where he kept the scroll he'd been sent. "I knew this was too good to be true."

"Oh, it probably is. True, I mean."

"Then what does Hera have to do with it?'

Hercules shook his head slowly. "I don't know. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm just too suspicious."

But he knew Iolaus didn't believe that any more than he did. The dream had been a warning. It didn't matter if it had been sent, or if it was only his own natural defenses on alert.

It was a warning.

Later, after they were bedded down for the night, Iolaus suddenly sat up and exclaimed, "Gods, Herc, you don't think she'll be one of the contestants, do you?"

"What?"

"You know, a disguise or something? A trap?"

Hercules almost considered the possibility, but then laughed it away and reminded Iolaus that exhibiting herself in that way simply wasn't the goddess' style.

Iolaus' relief was almost comical as he lay back, flopping his arms at his sides. "You're right. Thank the stars, you're right."

I sure hope so, Hercules thought, just before the sky exploded.

When Hercules next opened his eyes, his first thought had to do with the change in the night sky. The stars looked strange, almost as if they had been replaced by fire. And they kept spinning around.

His second thought had to do with the crushing ache in his skull.

Without thinking, he sat up quickly, and realized his mistake just before the pain blossomed and he passed out.

When he opened his eyes a second time, he didn't move. His vision was blurry, and his head felt as if an ox had taken to walking around inside his cranium.

Ambushed, he thought, chagrined; damn, we were ambushed.

Quietly: "Iolaus?"

A muffled groan was his answer.

Carefully he turned his head to the right and saw Iolaus lying a few feet away. Wherever they were, there was enough light for him to see the caked blood in his friend's hair.

When he tried to move, however, a reedy voice said, "Don't. He's all right. It's not as bad as it looks."

"Speak for yourself," Iolaus muttered.

Relieved, and increasingly angry about letting himself be caught, Hercules levered himself up on his elbows, waited for the world to stop spinning, and took a slow deep breath before sitting up all the way.

As his vision cleared, and finally adjusted to the available light, he saw that he was in a large cave.

Well over a dozen torches burned on the dark walls, their smoke curling lazily toward a hole in the ceiling.

The center of the floor was cleared, but large rocks and boulders were strewn around the edges, and on them sat the bandits. They wore no armor or masks now, and none, as far as he could tell, held weapons.

Not that they needed them. The way he felt and Iolaus sounded, a child could keep them in line with nothing more than a sapling switch.

He sat against a board propped against a low boulder; Iolaus lay nearby on a thick pile of straw and cloth.

Curiously, neither of them was bound.

"Thirsty?"

He looked to his left, to a tall angular figure sitting behind a crude table; on the table was a large dagger.