Iolaus was a reasonable man. He always prided himself on trying to see both sides of every argument, coming to his decision only after carefully weighing up all the pros and cons. Yes, he was a reasonable man… but every man had his limits.

"But why can't we go to the festival?" he wailed at Hercules.

To be scrupulously honest, he wailed the words to Hercules' steadily retreating back. Against all the odds - and the strategically placed signs all along the road - Hercules was walking in the opposite direction of the city of Kalvadosia. A city famous throughout the length of breadth of Greece for the quality and enthusiastic energy of its festivals. Iolaus hadn't been able to believe his luck when he realised they were heading straight for Kalvadosia and then Hercules had seen the first sign and promptly made an about face and started off in the direction they had just come.

"Aw, c'mon, Herc, why can't we go?" Iolaus demanded.

"You know very well why not," Hercules threw over his shoulder.

Iolaus gave his friend an exasperated look. "Would I be asking you if I knew the answer already?" He trotted around to place himself in front of the demi-god, then had to back-pedal hastily when Hercules showed no sign of slowing down. "Why don't you give me a hint?"

Hercules gave a very unheroic snort. "Because every time we go to a festival, you always wind up getting us into trouble," he said.

Iolaus gave to an abrupt halt, staring at Hercules in absolute shock. His friend - or so he had supposed! - swerved around him and kept on walking. Iolaus gazed after him, his mouth opening and closing while he tried to recover his voice. "Me?" he finally squeaked. "You think I'm the one who gets us into trouble?" He finally managed to recover and he bounced after Hercules in outrage.

"When have I ever got us into trouble?" he yelped. There was an odd, strangled sound from Hercules but he kept on walking. "No, I'm serious here," Iolaus insisted, bristling with virtuous indignation. "Just because there may have been the odd one or two occasions when other people have gone out of their way to force a fight on me-"

Hercules came to an abrupt halt. "Force a fight on you? Iolaus, no-one ever has to force a fight on you. You're always too busy prising it up off the floor and running away with it!"

"Is that so?" Iolaus squared up to his friend and folded his arms. "And I don't suppose you've ever got your precious little self in a bit of trouble, through no fault of your own?"

"Only when I've been trying to keep you out of trouble," Hercules shot back.

"Hah!" Iolaus said triumphantly. "What about that time you got arrested in Athens?"

"Mistaken identity," Hercules said airily. "Not like that time you nearly got yourself sacrificed in Marakonis."

"It was a ritual ceremony, Herc, not a sacrifice, and it wasn't my blood the priestess was after until you stuck your demi-god nose into things! Besides, if we're going to talk about sacrifices, there was that little incident in Argontius, if you remember, where you nearly got us both killed with your speeches!"

Hercules had the grace to blush. "It was a very good speech," he said defensively. "How was I to know they were all a bunch of religious maniacs?"

"I would have thought the screams of 'death to the heretic' might have given it away," Iolaus said dryly.

"That's beside the point," Hercules said a little crossly. "I still say you cause nothing but trouble when you go to a festival."

"At least I know how to have some fun!"

"Fun? Fun? Since when was starting a riot fun?"

"There, you see? That proves my point. You just have no sense of perspective, Herc. Any festival worth its salt has to have at least one riot to set the seal of approval on it."

"And do you know what you can do with your seals of approval?" Hercules shot back.

By this point, they were standing nose to nose in the middle of the road, oblivious of the people eddying around them and giving them curious looks. Most of the traffic was heading in the direction of Kalvadios, but there was a sudden rush of people coming back the way they had come, casting startled and frightened looks over their shoulders as they went. Happily settled into what was a promising spat, neither Iolaus nor Hercules paid them any attention until a loud voice suddenly impinged on their mutual consciousness.

"Excuse me! Coming through! Mind yourselves!"

They caught an impression of something large and white bearing down on them and jumped apart in time to miss being run over by a large white bull running full tilt down the middle of the road. They got a confused impression of gilded horns, garlands of flowers and the subtle scents of jasmine and sandalwood.

"Sorry about this, but I'm in a hurry," said the bull as it hurtled past.

Iolaus blinked and stared at Hercules. "Did that bull just talk to us?" he asked.

Hercules was looking equally bemused. "It might have," he said cautiously.

There was a clatter of metal and they turned to see a group of soldiers, all armed to the teeth and looking extremely harassed, trotting along the road towards them. At the rear was a pair of priests who were breathlessly urging the soldiers on with intermittent yells. Phrases such as 'capture the sacred bull', 'prevent this sacrilege against Zeus' and 'faster, faster before he gets away' rang through the air. The group barged past Hercules and Iolaus with far less courtesy than the bull had displayed, nearly pushing Iolaus off his feet. He staggered back and hurled a few choice words after the group as they sped off after the bull.

"You okay?" Hercules said anxiously as he saw Iolaus catch his balance.

"Yeah. It'll take more than a bunch of goons to knock me off my feet," Iolaus sniffed. "After all, I get enough practice what with all the trouble you get me into."

"I get you into?" Hercules squawked, and then the argument started all over again.

They had just got to a particularly promising recollection about Boetia when they realised that the bull was coming back in their direction. The soldiers were still hotly pursuing it, although they were travelling at a slightly slower pace now, due to the fact that their leader was favouring one leg.

"Look, I'm sorry about the leg," the bull was calling over its flank, "but what do you expect if you try and lasso me?"

Iolaus sidled up to Hercules. "It's definitely talking, Herc," he observed.

"Possibly," Hercules conceded reluctantly. "It might be a trick of some kind." He gave a small yelp when Iolaus kicked him in the ankle. "What was that for?" he asked plaintively.

"There's healthy scepticism and then there's moribund stubbornness," Iolaus told him in exasperation. "That bull is talking."

"Well, all right, I suppose it is," Hercules conceded, "but that doesn't make it any of our business."

He was trying to stave off the inevitable and he knew it. For someone who had been raised on and owned a farm of his own, plus had a reputation for being a peerless hunter, Iolaus was one of the softest touches the animal kingdom had ever known. Hercules had largely become inured to the three-act tragedy that always followed the decision by Iolaus to take one of his animals to market. He could, however, remember several incidents in the past when he, the son of Zeus, had taken a considerable pounding, and all because his supposedly bloodthirsty and psychotic companion had crossed paths with an animal of some kind. After a while, Hercules realised, you came to recognise the scent of danger. Right now, the air was heavy with it.

Sure enough, Iolaus gave him a look of disbelief nicely mixed with scandalised reproof. "How can you say that?" he demanded. "This is obviously an enchanted beast of some kind. It's-"

"Don't say it!"

"-our duty to save him." Iolaus blinked and stared at him. "Don't say what?"

"Never mind," Hercules groaned. The Fates had it in for him. That was the only explanation he had been able to come up with that actually fitted.

By this time, the bull had reached them and started to swerve around them. Iolaus put on his best 'hey, I talk to animals all the time' face and waved casually. "Can we help?" he asked brightly.

The bull slid to a halt and eyed them suspiciously. "That depends. How do you feel about the ritual sacrifice of animals?"

"Never done it," Iolaus said promptly. "Don't mean to do it, either. I figure that if Zeus wants a steak sandwich, he can make one himself."

Hercules cast a wary look skywards. The sky remained a clear, unblemished sapphire bowl and he relaxed infinitesimally. His father had always showed a soft spot where Iolaus was concerned, but he did have a temper.

The bull had taken a nervous step backwards when he had heard the phrase ‘steak sandwich’, but the panting arrival of the soldiers brought him dancing around in order to place Iolaus and Hercules between himself and the newcomers. He was certainly a magnificent specimen. Iolaus' head barely came up to his withers, but the bull was as broad chested and powerful as he was tall. His hide was a dazzling white, patterned with soft silver-grey whorls on his hindquarters and darkening to a stormier grey just before reaching the jet-black hooves. His eyes were a luminous amber-gold that Hercules had to admit had an intelligent look to them. The garlands of flowers around his neck were looking sadly wilted and broken by now, but the gilding still glowed on his long, elegantly curved horns.

The soldiers had eyed up both Hercules and Iolaus. With the inborn ability of capable fighting men, they could see trouble when it stood looking back at them - especially when it tried to look innocent. Their commanding officer was still favouring his leg and the look he gave the bull was less than friendly, but there was no outright hostility in his manner until the priests turned up, wheezing a little with the unexpected exertion.

"Ah, good, you have captured the errant beast," the lead priest panted. "Kindly place the sacred rope about his ungracious neck and we shall return to the temple precinct."

"You do and you'll be limping on both legs," the bull promised the air at large, but the captain winced.

"Er… I'm sure we can come to an amicable agreement," Hercules said hastily. He turned to the priest and gave the fussy little man his most winning smile. "Surely you wouldn't want to sacrifice someone who is obviously under some kind of curse?" he said cautiously. Some of the priests he had come across in his eventful life would consider that a happy bonus.

"Curse? What curse? He's a sacred bull; there's no curse!" the priest sniffed.

"But he's talking!" Iolaus pointed out.

"Well, duh, did I go too fast when I got to the sacred bull bit?" the priest said sarcastically. "He's a sacred bull from Kemi. They can talk. Doesn't change the fact that he's sacred, he's a bull and he's destined to be sacrificed to Zeus. Now stand aside. You're obviously foreigners, so we'll overlook your stupidity and interference."

Hercules rolled his eyes and automatically reached out to clamp a hand down on a bristling Iolaus' shoulder. I suppose he uses up all his tact and diplomacy on the Gods, he thought to himself. Judging from his expression, the leader of the soldiers was just as unimpressed with the civilian's handling of the situation.

"I am Captain Greco, of the City Guard," he said briskly. "That bull escaped the Great Temple of Zeus this morning and we have been ordered to assist the priests in his recovery. I would advise you not to get involved."

"Or I shall call down the wrath of Zeus on you," the priest added with virtuous hostility.

Iolaus' irritation dissolved into a gurgle of laughter. It was always a source of amusement for him to hear someone sounding off to Hercules over how they would sic Zeus on him. No matter how much Hercules might think otherwise, Iolaus was firmly of the opinion that Zeus loved his half-mortal son dearly and would toast any priest idiot enough to try and call down heavenly wrath on his head.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Hercules said wryly, folding his arms and drawing himself up to his full height.

"Foolish man, do you know who I am?" the priest snapped. He did some equal-opportunity drawing up of his own and looked down his nose at them. "I am Marikus and my power and influence is great in Kalvadosia."

"We're not in Kalvadosia," Hercules pointed out. "The city limits are one hundred yards back in that direction," he continued, nodding in the direction the others had originally come from.

Marikus swelled visibly. "I am a priest of Zeus!" he yelled. "That bull belongs to the temple!"

"Actually, to be pedantic," Hercules interjected smoothly, "the bull belongs to Zeus."

"I belong to Ptah," the bull interjected. "My name is Hap, and I was sent here as a gift, not a sacrifice! You wait until the temple of Memphis hears about this," he finished darkly. "They sent me here as a gift to cement relations between their priesthood and yours, not for me to wind up as the main course for your dratted festival! I know my job description and there's nothing in it about being menaced with sharp, pointy things, believe me!"

"Ptah is comparable to Zeus, inasmuch as we can assign Egyptian gods to our own Olympian deities," Marikus snapped.

Hercules frowned. "Is he? I thought Ra was equivalent to Zeus."

"Ptah is aligned with Hephaestus," Hap said helpfully. "Sacred bulls can also be sacred to Ra and Osiris, but it's mainly Ptah. He's a solar deity, as well," he finished.

"Solar? That'd be Helios, wouldn't it, Herc? Isn't there a sanctuary dedicated to Helios just outside Kalvadosia?" Iolaus said brightly, suppressing a smile at the dirty look he got from Marikus.

"There is," Hercules agreed.

"Are you insane?" Marikus demanded. "You cannot simply walk into our city, steal a sacred beast dedicated to our temple-"

"I wasn't dedicated to your temple!" Hap snorted. "I was sent here to do the same thing I do back home."

"And what would that be?" Iolaus asked curiously.

"We're held in a special sanctuary of our own, fed on the finest grass and hay, with a harem of the most beautiful cows to, er, attend us. We are appealed to when needed. When we eventually die - of old age-" he said meaningfully, "-we are mummified and buried with all honours, while the priests search the land for another sacred bull."

"Man, how do you apply for the job?" Iolaus breathed.

"Only joking, only joking, Herc," Iolaus said hastily. "Well, mostly," he mumbled under his breath. "So why do you get appealed to, Hap?" he asked.

"Sacred bulls have the gift on prophecy," Hap said.

"Didn't do you much good, did it?" Greco said, not quite quietly enough.

Hap gave him a dirty look. "We cannot prophesy on our own behalf, but I could give you a dead cert on what's going to happen to you if you don't learn some respect!" He hefted his gilded horns significantly.

"Prophecy. That would be Apollo, wouldn't it?" Iolaus decided, sending Hercules a questioning look.

Hercules sighed and nodded. This was turning into the kind of nightmare only stalwart heroes could find themselves in. So far, Hap seemed to be sacred to Zeus, Hephaestus, Helios and now Apollo. All of them had priests or priestesses who jealously guarded the treasures and reputation of their respective god and all of them were likely to buy into this current quarrel. Just as he had feared, this festival was going to end up in a fight. He glared down at Iolaus.

"What?" said a bewildered Iolaus.

"This is all your fault," he said crossly, before turning back to face Marikus, ignoring the indignant squawk from behind him. "I cannot, in all conscience, allow you to take this bull back to be killed," he said heavily.

"Who are you to tell a priest of Zeus what to do?" Marikus snapped.

"He's Zeus' son," Iolaus growled.

Marikus blinked. "Pardon?"

"You heard; he's Hercules. The Hercules," Iolaus added meaningfully.

Hercules sighed and shifted uncomfortably as the others all turned to stare at him. When he had been younger, he had quite liked the adulation he had received, but then he'd grown to understand human nature a little bit and realised that all the hangers-on and eager advocates weren't worth one friend. Especially a friend who didn't care who your father was and would go out of his way to tell you that you were being a jerk, if that was what you were. These days he preferred to keep a low profile, but he had to admit that being a famous name did sometimes have its advantages.

"Where's the lion skin?"

The words probably weren't meant to carry, but Hercules had sharp ears and he winced. That was one bit of youthful bravado he dearly wished he could erase from the common memory. He saw the grin on Iolaus' face as the hunter glanced up at him and realised that Iolaus had caught them, as well. Not that Iolaus was the type to dwell on a friend's past indiscretions.

"Don't say it," he warned, giving Iolaus what he thought was a quelling look.

"Perish the thought," Iolaus retorted in scandalised tones, then ruined the effect with a quirky grin.

"Oh, shut up," Hercules grumbled, before returning his attention to where Marikus had recovered from his initial shock and had progressed to doubt.

"You're the son of Zeus?" he said.

"One of them," Hercules agreed.

"You hardly do justice to your legend," Marikus sniffed.

Hercules gave a casual shrug. "Can't help that," he said with a small smile.

It was probably his air of confidence and the fact that he didn't try and bluster when his word was doubted that made the others start to believe him. Plus, there was just something about him that made them hesitate to tell him he was a liar. Whatever it was, the rest of the priests and most of the soldiers obviously didn't want to argue with him. Marikus was astute enough to realise that he was in the minority, so he did his best to make his climb-down look like graciousness.

"Naturally, we would not wish to anger the gods by misuse of the gift they have sent us-"

"Especially when it comes to killing sacred bulls," Hap interjected.

Marikus gave him a dirty look, but continued with his careful speech. "We will therefore return to the temple, where we shall attempt to divine what the will of Almighty Zeus is on this matter. Should The Thunderer demand the return of the bull, we shall, of course, summon him from the sanctuary of Helios."

"Over several other people's dead bodies," Hap snapped. Then he gave a surprised snort when Iolaus jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. "What?"

"Ixnay of the threatney," Iolaus murmured.

"Er… I only speak Egyptian, Babylonian, Greek and Cretan," Hap said uncertainly.

Iolaus rolled his eyes and just patted Hap absent-mindedly. He realised what he had done a couple of seconds later, but Hap didn't seem to mind. He watched in considerable amusement as Marikus gathered up his fellow priests and shepherded them in the direction of the city. Captain Greco ordered his men to accompany them, but paused before following after them.

"I think I should warn you," he said slowly, "that immortal Zeus very often sides with Marikus, when it comes to matters that concern Marikus. It… might be wise to make for the sanctuary of Helios as quickly as possible."

Hercules and Iolaus understood the warning and nodded. Marikus wasn't the first priest to use a god's voice to further his own aims and he wouldn't be the last. Some of the gods were quicker to put an end to such deviousness than others. Zeus generally gave his priests enough rope and then took great pleasure in leaving them out to dry. That didn't mean that they weren't able to cause considerable havoc before they were finally brought to book. They started off in the direction of the Sanctuary of Helios, then paused to look back when they realised that Hap wasn't following them. He was looking at Greco and his eyes were glowing a soft amber-gold.

"Greco, you must come to the Sanctuary of Helios tonight as the sun's chariot approaches the horizon. This is asked of you by one of the Great Ones."

Greco looked startled, then a little worried. He gave a small bow and left, limping hurriedly after his men. The light faded out of Hap's eyes and he shook his head. Petals from battered flowers drifted to the ground as he turned and trotted after Hercules and Iolaus. "We need to hurry," he told them. "Something important is going to happen."

The journey to the Sanctuary of Helios wasn't particularly taxing or difficult. The problem lay in Hap. Although Iolaus wasted no time in tearing off the remains of the flower garlands (most of which Hap insisted on eating, on the grounds that they were offerings); neither of them could do anything about Hap himself. The sight of such a huge and magnificent animal, with his gilded horns, almost glowing in the bright sunlight, was enough to stop a lot of people in their tracks. They wanted to know what was going on, and once they heard that Hercules - the Hercules! - and his companion was escorting a sacred bull to the Sanctuary of Helios, they had promptly decided that this had to be a special event and had joined what became a embarrassingly long procession. Hap soon had new flower garlands to replace the ones he had lost and he was delighted to accept the shy offerings of grass from the young children accompanying their parents.

Several of the people who had been travelling to Kalvadios had had musical instruments with them, and it didn't take long before they had struck up a tune. Another and another followed that. Soon, even Hercules was singing along, grinning as he watched Iolaus dance light-heartedly around Hap, several shy (and not-so-shy) girls joining him. Hap watched it all with an air of satisfaction. Hercules caught his eye.

"Did you foresee this?" he asked curiously, gesturing at the exuberant crowd.

Hap managed the bovine equivalent of a shrug. "I saw a bright laughter on the road. I saw the worship done as it should be done, without let or hindrance. I saw the Great Ones smile. This is part of a greater whole, though. There is a design still to be completed. We must go on."

Casting a look at the excited group of people behind them, Hercules agreed. Telling them to stop and disperse would be worse than useless, since they were convinced that they were taking part in something out of the ordinary. Then he paused. A demi-god and his best friend were escorting a talking, prophesying foreign bull to the sanctuary of one god, in the teeth of opposition from the priests of another. Why would anyone consider that to be unusual? Hercules grinned and shook his head. So much for a nice, uneventful solstice!

"What are you grinning about?" Iolaus asked curiously, panting a little after the latest particularly exuberant dance.

"Oh, just enjoying the music," Hercules said with an answering smile.

It broadened into a grin as Iolaus was promptly grabbed and swept off for another dance. The sanctuary of Helios was soon reached. Unlike the square marble temples of the Olympians, the temple to Helios was a circular building. There was a great, golden dome visible over a wall that was more fretwork metal and flowering plants than actual obstruction and the path led to a plain gate, inset with panels of polished bronze. After a moment's hesitation, Hercules went up to knock on the gate, only to have it give beneath his hand, opening inwards to reveal a single priest, clad in the saffron robes of Helios.

"Who stands at the gates of-- yikes!"

Hercules stared, then realised that the yelp and involuntary leap in the air wasn't some kind of bizarre ritual, but had happened because the man had been soundly poked with a slender walking cane wielded by a diminutive old woman he recognised all too well. The Matriarch of Apollo was in town.

"You know very well who's here and why," she bellowed with the penetrating voice of the very deaf. "I told you all that, not half an hour ago!" She turned her attention on them, a benevolent smile crossing her face when she saw Hap. Then she gave Hercules a look and a snort. "Oh, it's you. Herculos, wasn't it?"

Hercules sighed inwardly. "Hercu-les," he said.

"You've heard about a lease? Well, I suppose going into property is a sensible move. You're not getting any younger," she observed. "Or taller," she added.

Hercules winced, especially when he heard the giggle from behind him. Unfortunately for Iolaus, that simply attracted the Matriarch's attention.

"I see you've brought Hermes' Chosen One with you," she observed with enough volume to be heard in Corinth (or so Iolaus thought). "It's always a pleasure to see him."

To Hercules' delight, she gave Iolaus what could only be described as a lecherous once-over. Iolaus had been attempting to maintain his polite smile in the face of having Hermes' name mentioned, but such a blatant appraisal made him go several shades paler, as he scuttled behind the comforting bulk of Hap. The Matriarch grinned.

"Why so shy? Ah, if I were only ten years younger… what a wedding night we would have!"

Iolaus gave a horrified squeak. "Wedding night? Wouldn’t it be dangerous?" He had to repeat it, louder, when she demanded to know what he had said, blushing furiously as he did so.

The Matriarch nodded thoughtfully. "A fair point," she said, "and if you did die, I'd miss you. Still, love is a dangerous thing." She turned away, leaving Iolaus gawping. "Well, we'd better get inside before Marikus turns up." She poked at the priest of Helios, but he was on to her and dodged nimbly. "Spoilsport," she muttered. "Open the doors to the people, Corus. On this solstice, Helios will be properly honoured."

Hercules gave her a sharp look. That was something that hadn't occurred to him. Helios wasn't one of the more high-profile gods. He tended to be a little more remote, except when a beautiful face or gorgeous body caught his eye, but he didn't go in for the flashy demonstrations of many of the younger deities. His priests tended to be a little more introspective, as well, apart from the Brotherhood of the Flame, so they didn't go in for the same level of publicity stunts that others indulged in. This was probably the greatest crowd this temple had ever seen, even during a summer solstice.

The crowd flooded through the gates when they had been flung wide, gazing around themselves in genuine curiosity. There was no wide plaza of smooth stone, no stalls hawking everything from incense to live chickens or goats. Instead there was a wide expanse of perfect turf, dazzlingly emerald under the noon sun. The temple had four large arched doorways orientated on the points of the compass and a path radiated from each of them until it joined a circular path that completely encircled the temple grounds. All the paths were laid with gravel composed of different coloured stones, creating a kaleidoscope for people to walk on.

Every door was thrown open wide and there were triangular windows cut into the domed roof, letting plenty of light into the interior. The entire floor of the temple was made of a red-gold wood, polished to the point where it glowed. Great mirrors of polished bronze and copper were set into the walls, reflecting even more light around the interior. At the very centre of the temple was a gigantic statue of Helios, carved out of sandstone rather than the usual marble. He was gloriously nude, apart from a golden pectoral set with rubies, amber and topazes. His eyes seemed to gaze down upon the people surrounding him with unusual awareness.

"Nice place," Iolaus muttered under his breath. Then he brightened. "Oh, yes, it is a very nice place!"

"What?" Hercules gave him a confused look, then followed the direction he was looking in and groaned to himself.

The young girl standing just in front of the statue was a slender, dusky beauty. She was wearing a simple white shift that set off the warm bronze of her skin, which was actually very similar in colour to that of the statue. Her hair was a heavy black cascade, decorated with a crown of flowers and she wore bracelets and a collar necklace of blue, red and white beads. She looked very exotic amongst the Greeks and she was gazing around herself nervously. But her face lit up when she saw them coming and she darted towards them. Hap gave a low bellow and surged forwards.

"My Lord Hap!"

"Mekete!"

She flung her arms around the bull's neck, half-laughing and half-weeping. "I thought I would never see you again. When that accursed ship sailed before I could get on board and the next ship did not leave for another week, I feared that I would be derelict in my duty towards you."

"I knew you were coming, Mekete," Hap told her reassuringly. "I knew you would be true to your vows."

"Vow?" Iolaus' face fell. "Why do they always have to take vows?"

"Probably to protect them against you," Hercules said dryly. He gave a small grunt and moved aside as the Matriarch used her cane to remind him of her presence.

"Don't slouch, Hickles," she said severely.

"Hercules!" the demi-god bellowed.

"I don't doubt that it does, but I wouldn't advise it in broad daylight," she said waspishly. "Well, child, I told you that Hap would find his way to you," she said indulgently.

"It was a close thing, though," Iolaus chimed in, hoping to distract her from Hap and have her focus on him. "He very nearly--"

"Don't say it!" the Matriarch, Corus and two other priests said urgently.

"--got himself sacrificed," Iolaus finished, then stared at them in astonishment. "What's wrong?"

"Sacrificed?" Mekete jerked upright and gave Iolaus a horrified look. "They were going to… to…" Her eyes closed and she promptly dropped down in a dead faint.

"That's what's wrong," the Matriarch said in disgust. "Every time someone mentioned what happens to bulls in Greek rituals, she fainted on us."

"It is inconceivable for a devout native of Kemi to consider the slaughter of a sacred bull," Hap said, once he had reassured himself that Mekete had only fainted. "We are a civilised country." Before any of the others could take issue with the statement, he swung his head around, his eyes momentarily becoming filmed with beaten gold. "The enemy approaches."

There was an impressive fanfare of trumpets from a short distance away, and the slowly growing sound of temple musicians and the tramp of many feet. The crowd, sensing a fight the way only a crowd of people could, immediately gathered together and shifted to the opposite side of the temple to where the noise was coming from. Mekete recovered from her faint with the same grace she had fallen into it, and got to her feet. She petted and crooned to Hap softly; obviously reassuring herself that her sacred charge hadn't got himself damaged or injured while he had been out of her sight.

The trumpets gave another brassy cascade of sound and then Marikus made his grand entrance. He and the rest of his priests made an impressive sight, with their dazzling white robes. The temple guards that accompanied them were dressed in armour that was more decorative than functional, although the tall spears were tipped with razor-sharp heads that looked like they could do some considerable damage. Hap snorted and lowered his horns suggestively.

"Stand aside, priests of Helios!" Marikus declaimed, throwing out a dramatic hand.

"Oh, please," Iolaus said, rolling his eyes.

Hercules smiled but said nothing, folding his arms and watching the way the priests of Helios bristled. They might not be political movers and shakers, but this was their territory and such a flagrant abuse of their own authority was intolerable. Corus stalked forward, drawing himself up to his full height.

"By what authority do you invade our temple with soldiers?" he snapped.

"By the authority of Almighty Zeus, Lord of Olympus!" Marikus shot back. "He has laid claim to the white bull of Kemi, which must be returned to us so that we may sacrifice him to Zeus."

Iolaus shot forward in time to catch Mekete as she slid to the ground in a graceful swoon.

"Last time I looked, Zeus wasn't in the business of making beautiful women swoon," came a new voice. "Well, not out of fear, anyway."

The hairs on the back of Hercules' neck stood straight up and he looked across to where a distinguished old man had come forward to stand beside Corus. The Matriarch gave him a suspicious look, then her eyes widened. He gave her a roguish grin and inclined his head before turning his attention back to Marikus. Once Hercules had got over the shock of seeing his father no more than a few feet away from him, he realised that Marikus had obviously taken that one step too far and things were going to get a little… Olympian.

"Uh, Herc?" Hercules turned to where Iolaus had his hands full of a fainting handmaiden. "I think I'd better get Mekete out of earshot of a certain word," Iolaus said.

"Good thinking," Hercules agreed. While he agreed that Mekete was probably better away from the unpleasantness that was going to erupt, he also wanted Iolaus away from the battle that was brewing. It was already promising to be a big one and the last thing he wanted was for Iolaus to be in the thick of things.

Taking Mekete up in his arms, Iolaus quickly faded back into the background, leaving the others to their argument while he made for the garden. Leaving by the southern gate, he glanced around and then spotted an ornamental pond a short distance away, surrounded on three sides by some trees and large bushes that afforded some privacy. He took Mekete down there and deposited her gently at the base of a tree. He settled down beside her, hoping that she would recover soon. Normally he would have been loathe to walk away from what looked like a promising fight brewing, but in his experience, priests tended to talk the hind legs off donkeys before finally handing things over to their soldiers. He should have plenty of time to do a little flirting before going back to enjoy the fighting.

Mekete stirred and sat up with a small cry. "Hap?" She looked around a little wildly.

"He's fine," Iolaus assured her quickly. "We decided that it might be better for you if you came away for a rest."

She had started to get to her feet, but in the face of his smile, she hesitated and slowly settled back down. After a moment, she answered his smile with one of her own. "I suppose my Lord Hap will be safe in the temple of Ptah," she said after a moment.

"Of course he will," Iolaus agreed heartily. He cast around for an innocuous subject and his gaze lit upon the pond. "Do you have water lilies in Egypt?" he asked, gesturing at the dazzling white flowers floating on the surface of the water.

She followed his pointing finger and her smile broadened. "No, but we have the lotus. It looks a lot like these flowers." She looked around in appreciation. "I did not realise that you Greeks had gardens."

"Greeks like beautiful things. Gardens… and women," he finished softly.

She slid him a sideways look, her uncertainty fading into a kind of shy playfulness. "The Greeks have a certain reputation," she observed.

"Oh?" Iolaus carefully inched closer. "And what kind of reputation would that be?" He leaned forward, then gave a yip of pain and twisted around to see what had dug into him. To his amazement, a tortoise had pushed its way out of the undergrowth behind them and had dug its blunt claws into his thigh as it tried to climb up onto his lap. He settled back and watched the animal's determined efforts in bemusement. Mekete giggled.

"That reminds me of one of your legends," she said, "when a god wished to seduce a maiden."

"A female tortoise?" Iolaus asked in confusion.

"No, the god turned himself into a tortoise and when she picked him up and held him close, he turned back into a god and spirited her away."

"Sounds like something Zeus would do," Iolaus said, admiring the dark chestnut and golden markings on the tortoise's carapace.

"No, this was Hermes," Mekete corrected him.

Iolaus froze, giving her a look of pure horror, then grabbed the tortoise and brought it up to eye-level. Green-gold eyes gave him a mischievous look before the tortoise winked. With a strangled scream of fury, Iolaus shot to his feet and wound his arm back to hurl the tortoise into the middle of next week. Then he stopped, as a more devious idea struck him. Trotting down to the pond, he leaned out and gently deposited the tortoise, upside-down, onto the surface of the water.

"How are you at rowing, Hermes?" he asked.

The tortoise flailed around for a second, then promptly rolled over and sank to the bottom of the pond in a stream of impressive bubbles. Before Iolaus could do more than give a reflexive twitch of concern, the tortoise glowed a vivid blue and Hermes manifested. He stood before them, clad in nothing but a brief tunic and a water lily on his head. Iolaus was insensibly annoyed to realise that it looked good on him.

"Now, is that any way for a Chosen One to treat his god?" he asked Iolaus archly.

"I don't know; why don't you find a Chosen One and ask him?" Iolaus retorted belligerently. Hermes' long-standing assertion that Iolaus was his Chosen One was a source of deep unease and considerable yelling on the mortal's part. Of course, that mattered not one wit to Hermes, which annoyed Iolaus even further.

Mekete had stared up at Hermes before giving a small squeak and falling flat on her face in an attitude of submissive respect. Apart from the sacred bulls, she had never knowingly seen a god before and she found it a little overwhelming. She was also a little confused, as she was seeing two different beings, each one coming in and out of focus as she watched. One was the familiar, ibis-headed god she had always considered Thoth to be, but the other was a slender, dark-haired and oddly fascinating young man.

Hearing the amused voice deep inside her mind, she lifted her head in time to see the shimmering being in front of her give her a wink before turning back to Iolaus.

"Iolaus, my precious, you might as well give in to the inevitable," he started to say.

"Only if the inevitable involves your immediate, untimely and preferably excruciatingly painful death," Iolaus snapped, folding his arms.

"See, a defensive posture, staving off the inevitable," Hermes said, pointing to the arms.

"Staving off the unspeakable, you mean!"

"I could be hurt," Hermes pouted.

"That would be nice," Iolaus said brightly.

Hermes gave a theatrical sigh, but they were all distracted when there was a crack of thunder behind them. They turned around in time to see the entire domed roof of the temple rise several feet in the air, the blue-white blaze of lighting being seen through the open doors. Then the roof settled back down into place with an audible thump.

"Oops," Hermes said, looking a little guilty.

"What's happened?" Iolaus demanded, scrambling to his feet and poised to hurl himself into the temple in search of Hercules.

"Hap!" Mekete yelped, joining him.

"Relax, relax," Hermes said, coming up to envelop them in a quick embrace that tingled as much as it soothed. "Hercules and Hap are fine. That was Zeus putting a certain priest in his place."

"Good for Zeus," Iolaus said in approval, before jabbing a strategic elbow in Hermes' ribs. The god gave a chuckle, totally unfazed, but obediently moved away.

"Come on, we'd better go and join the party."

"What party?" Iolaus asked curiously.

Hermes gave him an indulgent smile. "Why, it's Solstice, Iolaus, and Helios will be here soon, to greet the great bull who came to him for sanctuary and who brought the mighty Zeus to punish an impious priest. Now, I'd better go and see if Zeus needs me to take Marikus down to Hades or if he decided to go easy on him at the last moment."

"What will happen to Hap and me?" Mekete asked a little timidly as Hermes vanished.

Iolaus was a little at a loss but before he could recover and say something suitably soothing, they were joined by Captain Greco. The young soldier had obviously come in from the southern gate and was looking around himself curiously. He spotted Iolaus and came towards him with a cautious smile, but then he saw Mekete and a stunned expression crossed his face.

"Hi, Greco," Iolaus said brightly.

"Um," Greco said, refusing to take his eyes off Mekete. She was blushing furiously, her eyes meeting his shyly, but there was a light in them that there hadn't been when she had looked at Iolaus.

"So, shall we go into the temple?" Iolaus asked. "Or shall we form a rampaging horde and rage across the face of the globe, destroying all in our path?"

"That sounds nice," Mekete said vaguely.

Iolaus rolled his eyes in despair. Why did this always happen to him?

"Never mind, precious," came a familiar purr in his ear. "You'll always have me." There was a playful puff of breath against his neck.

"Ack!" Iolaus leapt a good foot in the air and took off in the direction of the temple. "Herc! Herc! Make Hermes leave me alone! Hercules!"

With a delighted grin, Hermes cast a benevolent look at Greco and Mekete, then turned his attention back towards the fleeing hunter. This was shaping up to be a fun Solstice! "Wait for me, my little sugared almond," he carolled as he bounded off in pursuit.