|
The Gatehouse was a large sprawling
stone building, standing solidly in the pass between Corinth and it's
neighbouring lands. Its towers spiked towards the pewter grey snow filled
skies like triumphant spears along a dragon's back, giving the building
something of the appearance of a crouched and brooding beast. Its walls of
black and blood red stone created a dark splash of colour against the grey
walls of the mountain pass. No one could remember how long ago it had been
built or by who or who had decided to turn it into a hostelry for
travellers, but it had withstood weather, siege and war and had come to be
regarded as neutral ground for the surrounding territories. Numerous peace
treaties had been signed within its thick stone walls and an almost equal
number of wars had been declared.
As afternoon gathered into early
evening, the building seemed to hunch down within the path, setting its
stony face into the buffeting snow filled winds and approaching blizzard. In
the taproom, the fires had been lit in the hearth and the cressets filled
with oil or torches according to their function. Swags of greenery brought
up from the valley decorated the room amid the colourful banners of the
delegates and wafts of scent drifted from the kitchen every time the doors
opened, filling the quiet empty room with the scent of roasting meats and
thick rich stews. Outside the wind redoubled its efforts to get in,
shrieking in frustration as it rattled the shutters and tore at the doors
with invisible fingers.
Behind the counter, Pastius the
innkeeper, rearranged the tankards for the umpteenth time and ignored the
storm force winds, used to the temperamental weather. He looked around the
room in satisfaction, once more checking that nothing was out of place. It
had been a long time since peace negotiations had been held at the Gatehouse
and it was the first time he had hosted so many important guests all at the
same time. He had the Gatehouse's reputation to uphold and he was determined
that everything would go well. Knowing how finicky some of the nobles could
be he wanted to give them nothing to complain about.
The main door suddenly rattled
violently on its hinges, shuddering as if something was pounding on it from
outside. Pastius froze, staring at it in alarm. There were creatures in
these mountains that sometimes roamed around the walls of the Gatehouse,
leaving huge scars in the stone as they sought to get in and reach the tasty
human morsels inside. So far the ancient wards that protected the building
had stood firm, but there was always a first time…
The door rattled again and was
suddenly flung open crashing back against the wall as the blizzard swept
gleefully inside with a torrent of snow and wind. No monster stood revealed
however, but two figures clinging together in the teeth of the wind; their
cloaks plastered against them by the force of the storm. The taller of the
two was holding the other against his side and was carrying a couple of bags
over one broad shoulder. "I need some help here!" he urged.
Pastius recovered quickly from his
shock as soon as he realised it was no monster intruding on him, but guests.
He emerged quickly from behind the counter, a big man shaped like a wedge
with kind brown eyes. "Come in then and close the door," he urged.
The taller of the two dropped the
bags and reached out to grab the door, releasing his smaller companion so he
could force it shut against the wind. The smaller one swayed and sank
floorwards. Pastius moved instinctively, long experience making him hurry
forward to grab the man and sweep him back to his feet, hustling him towards
the fireplace as he bellowed for assistance.
"Here, sit here now," he urged,
settling the man onto the stone seat in the inglenook by the roaring fire.
Unfocused blue eyes in a young but too pale face blinked at him from under
the edge of the fur lined hood from which escaped a tangle of wet blond
hair. "You've been out in the cold too long," Pastius scolded as he
attempted to unwrap the sopping wet cloak from around him. "You need to get
warm and dry…" He glanced up at the taller man as he loomed over them,
swaying unsteadily. He looked no older than his companion did, also blue
eyed but with strands of snow damp brown hair rather than blond plastered
around a strong boned face. "You too…Sit down and get warm." Pastius waved
him to a seat on the other side of the fire and then looked round for
assistance as the young man slumped wearily onto the indicated seat.
"Pastius?" one of the servants
appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"Bring the hot blankets and some
stew for our guests," the innkeeper ordered briskly.
The servant nodded and disappeared
again and Pastius turned back to his guests. "What brings you up here,
travellers?" he asked carefully. Although their cloaks were of good cloth
and lined with fur, neither young man struck Pastius as the rich type
somehow. He directed his questions to the brown haired young man, suspecting
that he was unlikely to get an answer from the blond until he had thawed
out.
"The negotiations," the taller man
answered. "I'm Hercules. That's Iolaus." Hercules leaned forward, hugging
his cloak around him as he peered anxiously at his friend. "Iolaus? Talk to
me…"
"Where's your carriage?" Pastius
worried, thinking they might have left horses outside. Obviously they were
nobles if they had come for the negotiations.
"What carriage?" Hercules gave him
a blank look. "We walked…"
"Walked?" Pastius echoed in
astonishment. No one walked through the pass if they could help it.
"In this weather?"
"It wasn't like this when we
started out," Hercules mumbled lamely. He stretched out one hand to Iolaus,
shaking his knee. "Iolaus?" There was no response; Iolaus merely stayed
huddled unresponsively into the snow-smothered cloak Pastius was doing his
best to peel him out of.
Pastius hesitated. He knew he
should ask for their identification. He was supposed to turn away strangers
during the negotiations, but he could hardly turn anyone away in this
weather without killing them. He put the thought to one side as his two
servants hurried out with armfuls of fire warmed blankets.
"He's not even shivering," Hercules
worried.
"And you're surprised? Take off
that wet cloak. Are your clothes dry? No? Well, strip off and wrap yourself
in the blankets…" Pastius busied himself stripping the cloak off Iolaus and
tugging at the wet tunic underneath. First things first, he would take care
of his guests and make sure they didn't freeze. Then he would worry
about whether who they were.
* * *
For Hercules the next few minutes
passed in a blur of bustle as the innkeeper hustled them into a side room
and saw to it that both he and Iolaus were stripped and dried and wrapped in
heated wool blankets for warmth. With a mug of spiced ale in one hand,
Hercules sat as close to Iolaus as he could get under the blankets, sharing
his own body warmth with his friend and keeping him between him and the
blazing fire in the hearth. He rarely felt the cold and for him to have the
shivers was exceptional. So exceptional that it made him seriously worried
about how Iolaus was feeling.
"So, how long do you think the snow
will keep up?" he asked aloud, hoping to spark the hunter into making some
kind of response.
"No telling," the servant watching
them, replied as he stoked the fire even higher. "The stew should be ready
soon. Shall I fetch you some?"
"That would be good, yes, please,"
Hercules said gratefully. The walk would have made him hungry even if the
cold hadn't. He turned his attention to Iolaus as the servant bustled out. "Iolaus?
How about you? Are you hungry?"
There was no response, only a slow
confused blink as Iolaus looked at him as if he wasn't there.
"Ah hah!" the cry came from the
doorway as a slender young man with copper brown shoulder length hair
bounded into the room. "It is you! Pastius said there were new arrivals!"
"Aethalides!" Hercules greeted his
fellow ex Argonaut with genuine pleasure. He half rose to his feet then
settled back as he remembered Iolaus, reluctant to leave him.
"Hi, Hercules," the herald said
cheerfully as he padded over and leaned down to peer into Iolaus' face.
"What have you been doing to Iolaus?"
"We walked up but it turned out to
be colder than we expected."
"Why didn't you get the coach?"
Aethalides puzzled, taking Iolaus' wrist in slim fingers and checking his
pulse in concern.
Hercules gritted his teeth. He had
a feeling he was going to get fed up with people asking him that question.
"We missed it," he said curtly.
"But there's two a day, you should
have waited…." The herald paused warily under Hercules' glower. "Didn't
anyone tell you that?"
"No, strangely enough, they didn't.
Why do you think we walked?"
"Stupidity…" Iolaus mumbled
groggily. "Sheer damn stupidity…"
"Iolaus, you’re back!" Hercules
sighed in relief and hugged him tight to his side, earning himself an elbow
in the ribs.
Iolaus peered up at him, his
expression bewildered. "How'd we get here?"
"We walked…"
"Why?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the
time," Hercules sighed, glancing at Aethalides. "They told us there wouldn't
be another carriage and we didn't want to miss the negotiations."
"You," Iolaus corrected. "It was
definitely you - I think. I'm sure I said let's wait."
"They still said there wouldn't be
another carriage," Hercules said sulkily.
"They lied," Iolaus pointed
out, his eyes glazed with confusion. "I said they were lying to delay us. At
least I think I did…."
"Well, they failed then, didn't
they," Hercules retorted smugly.
Iolaus gave him a puzzled frown and
then turned his head away to peer up at Aethalides. Hercules watched him
anxiously, surreptitiously tugging the blankets back around him. "Hey, hi…Aethalides?"
"Hi, Iolaus," Aethalides grinned at
him. "You look like you should be tucked up in a nice warm bed."
"Um, that is you, is it? Not…?"
Iolaus said warily.
"Yeah, it's me. You look half
frozen."
"Oh…" Iolaus' frown deepened and he
gave the mug Hercules pushed into his hand a puzzled look. "What….?"
"Don't ask. It's hot. Drink,"
Hercules urged anxiously, tucking the blanket more firmly around him. Iolaus
half lifted one shoulder in a shrug then sipped the spiced ale, taking a
larger swallow as the taste and heat got through to him.
The door was pushed open again,
this time by Pastius holding it back for his servant with a tray of steaming
stew bowls. "Ah, herald, would you care for some supper?" he said politely.
"I’d appreciate that, thank you.
I'll join my friends here if you don't mind."
"Of course not, sir," Pastius
assured him, glancing at Hercules and Iolaus. "I'm glad to see you awake,
sir." Iolaus nodded to him vaguely, more interested in his ale than anything
else. "Might I ask if you were expected?" Pastius went on cautiously. Since
Aethalides seemed to know them and the herald was an invited guest, he felt
on safer ground asking the strangers now.
"Oh, yeah, I didn't introduce us
properly, did I?" Hercules mumbled, fishing under the blankets for Iolaus'
free hand and holding it up to show his heavy gold ring with the ram seal on
it. "We represent King Jason of Corinth," he explained.
"Ah, I see. My apologies then for
not greeting you more formally." Pastius shot a chagrined look at the bowls
as the servant put them on the table. If he had known the two young men were
the Corinthian ambassadors he would have put out the best china instead of
his travellers' ware. And this bedraggled young man was Hercules who he had
heard so many tales about? Where was his famous lion skin?
"When you're half frozen, polite
greetings don't matter much," Hercules replied amiably. "You've been very
kind."
"My pleasure, sirs. If you'll
excuse me, I’ll go and make sure your rooms are ready," Pastius told him,
nodding politely to Aethalides. "I'll have your meal sent in, herald."
Aethalides watched the innkeeper
and his servant leave and then turned back to Hercules. "Did they really say
there was no more carriages?" he asked uneasily.
Hercules nodded, shifting away from
Iolaus to reach for the stew. He was starving. "I wouldn't have walked
unless they had," he said firmly, ignoring Iolaus' under his breath
muttering. He handed one of the bowls to his partner as Iolaus finished his
ale and accepted the food in its place happily. The hunter still didn't seem
quite focused, but his colour was improving gradually.
Aethalides started to pace the
room, his hands folded behind his back. He was wearing a stylish deep blue
himation fastened with a gold brooch over his black leather breeches and
tunic and the soft cloth fluttered as he stalked up and down.
Hercules watched him uncertainly,
in between devouring his stew and keeping one eye on Iolaus to check he was
doing the same. Iolaus was eating slowly as if he wasn't quite sure why he
was doing it and seemed half-asleep, but every bite was warmth he needed.
"What's the matter?" the demi-god asked around a mouthful of shredded lamb
and vegetables.
"Someone is out to ruin the
negotiations," Aethalides told him gloomily.
"One act of malice doesn't mean
anything," Hercules argued.
The herald paused and bit his lower
lip. "Tell me, if it had been anyone except you deciding to walk, would they
have made it?"
Hercules flicked a quick look at
Iolaus and flushed in chagrin. "Well…" he began slowly.
Iolaus didn't even bother to look
up. "No one else would have been that stupid," he snorted. "Most
people would have listened to the weather warnings and stayed put."
Aethalides' worried expression
lifted a little as his mouth quirked into a rueful smile. "I see you’re
still arguing," he teased.
Iolaus shot a look at him from
under his fringe. "That's because I'm still right and he's still wrong."
Hercules sighed heavily and rolled
his eyes in mock exasperation. "I'm sure it's only a misunderstanding," he
told the Herald.
"I'm not," Aethalides' smile faded
quickly. "There have been too many delays, too many obstacles getting in the
way. Someone doesn't want these talks to take place. If I hadn't sent back
up messages to the kings, Ethica wouldn't be represented. Their first
confirmation never arrived and the Ethicans are really touchy about
protocol."
"Messages do go astray," Hercules
pointed out.
"Someone murdered the messenger,"
Aethalides said grimly then shut up as Pastius returned with a tray of
delicate cups, his best wine and more stew - this time in a fancy bowl - all
on a silver tray.
"The rooms are ready, sirs, and I
have had your…luggage taken up for you," he announced politely as he set the
tray down. "And if I may take the liberty of suggesting it, the baths are
hot if you should wish to bathe after your…walk."
Hercules resisted the impulse to
grin. Pastius was obviously having difficulties reconciling their positions
with their looks.
"Sounds great," Iolaus murmured,
setting down his empty stew bowl and pushing to his feet. "Lead me to it."
"Are you sure?" Hercules said
quickly.
"Yeah. Why not? I'm cold and a hot
bath sounds good after being dragged up that blasted mountain by someone
whose name I won't mention."
Hercules glared at him, well aware
of Aethalides' grin being hastily wiped away when he turned a scowl on him.
"I'll see you upstairs then," he decided. "Don't stay in the water too long,
you'll shrink."
"Oh ha ha," Iolaus snorted and
turned his blue eyes on the innkeeper. "Ignore my friend. He has this
strange idea he has a sense of humour. So, where's this bath?"
"This way, sir."
Hercules watched Iolaus follow the
innkeeper out and then turned back to Aethalides. "Murdered? By who?" he
demanded, returning to the subject.
Aethalides shrugged and sat down to
sample his stew. "He was ambushed on the road, apparently by robbers. But
all he had on him was the scroll and a few coins. He was a herald for crying
out loud! No one robs a herald!"
Hercules held his tongue on that.
Being a herald or a bard was not the absolute guarantee of safety that some
people would like to think. "Even so…" he said slowly.
"I'm not a fool," Aethalides said
sharply. "I'm not saying it never happens. But twice?"
"Twice?"
"A messenger returning to Corinth
from Parthia with a reply was also set upon and murdered. Fortunately,
Parthia sent a second message with details of who would be attending."
"Jason never mentioned this to us,"
Hercules observed darkly.
"It's only been recent," Aethalides
explained. "Considering how much you and Iolaus move around, I wouldn't be
surprised if they're still out looking for you."
"What about the other delegates?"
"Most of them arrived without any
trouble," Aethalides admitted gratefully. "The Ethicans aren't here yet.
Assuming they didn't change their minds and stay away they should be here
soon. They should be coming up the other side of the pass. You and Iolaus
are the last to arrive from this side of the mountain."
"It does sound a little
suspicious," Hercules admitted slowly.
"A little suspicious?"
"There's no point jumping to
conclusions. It could be coincidence."
"Or enemy action," Aethalides
grumbled. "I promised Jason I’d keep this gathering peaceful and do
my best to make a success of it. He's tired of the skirmishes along our
borders. The last thing he wants to do is have to send out the army to deal
with it, but if these negotiations don’t show at least some sign of
improvement, then he's going to have no choice but to do exactly that.
You've been there, Hercules, you know what his advisors are like. They’re
pushing for an open show of force."
"I know," Hercules sighed ruefully.
There was nothing like the Corinthian nobility for seeing insults in every
shadow. It would be a matter of pride to them to stop the border raids, even
if it meant declaring war on every surrounding city-state from Corinth to
Athens. "But what makes Jason think Iolaus and I can make a difference?"
Aethalides smiled faintly. "You're
both pretty good at supporting the cause of peace. Jason hopes between the
three of us, we can persuade the others to see reason." He paused, looking
up Hercules thoughtfully. "You do want to make peace, don't you?"
"You have to ask?" Hercules
snorted.
Aethalides grinned, obviously
starting to feel better now that he had the companionship and support of his
friends. "Having three Argonauts here to support Jason makes for an
impressive show," he said brightly. "Hopefully your presence will help stop
any trouble before it starts. I'm sure that between us we can get them all
to sit down and at least talk about it. I thought we could start with
discussing trade agreements."
"We might be better off finding out
what started the border raids," Hercules argued cautiously.
"Largely trade disagreements,"
Aethalides said swiftly. "I brought all the information we've gathered for
you. I thought you might like to read up on it before the talks start
tomorrow."
"That sounds like fun," Hercules
muttered gloomily.
"Sorry?" Aethalides grinned
innocently.
"No you’re not," the demi-god
grumbled, reaching for the wine. "When do we meet the other delegates?"
"Well, when the Ethicans arrive,
we'll have a little cocktail party in the banquet room."
"This place has a banquet room?"
"You’d be amazed how big the
Gatehouse is," Aethalides told him, settling back to sip his wine. "There's
a whole warren of rooms, secret passages and corridors. Parts of it are so
old no one remembers when they were built."
"Sounds like somewhere you can get
lost easily."
"According to Pastius people have
gotten lost here in the past. It's even supposed to be haunted…"
"What a surprise."
"You know, Hercules, you’re
starting to sound a little bit tetchy."
The demi-god looked at him
irritably over the top of his goblet. "Gosh, really? I can't think
why."
"Walking up a mountain in a
blizzard maybe and nearly getting your bits frozen off?"
"That'd do it, yeah." Hercules
grimaced. "Especially with Iolaus complaining every step of the way."
"You have to admit he had good
reason to," Aethalides pointed out dryly.
"Which is why I didn't pound him
into a paste. I am really going to have to go some to make it up to him."
Hercules shook his head and smiled ruefully. "One little mistake and you pay
and you pay and you pay…"
A polite but brisk rap at the door
announced Pastius' arrival. He pushed the door open as Aethalides hailed him
and stepped inside, bowing to the herald. "Forgive the intrusion, herald,
but the Ethicans have arrived."
"At last!" Aethalides pushed
eagerly to his feet. "What kind of mood are they in?"
"Far be it from me to offer an
opinion, sir."
"That good, huh? Come on, Hercules,
I think I need back up."
* * *
Hercules' first impression when
they entered the main taproom was that a flock of birds had exploded. All he
could see was a dazzling display of colour; not all of which matched or that
he would have described as fashionable. Not that he knew much about
fashion, but he could tell the difference between style and, well, whatever
the Ethicans had. Tunics and breeches of blues and reds and greens, of
purples, greys and black with an overlay of gold thread and sparkly bits.
Jewellery glittered from every ear and neck and finger and feathers bobbed
all over the place from weirdly wrapped silk hats.
Aethalides inhaled sharply, his own
stylishly refined senses somewhat taken aback by the lavish display of
costly cut and fabric. Then he rallied and forged forward, aiming for the
tall supercilious man in the centre of the crowd. "My Lord Orides, I
presume?"
"By Zeus, you presume correctly,"
the Ethican replied, fluttering a brightly coloured blue and green feathered
fan in front of his face. "This is Ambassador Neman." He inclined his head
to a slightly older man who was somewhat less lavishly dressed that Orides
himself. Neman bowed slightly and said nothing, his dark hooded eyes oddly
sleepy. "And you are?" Orides continued.
"Aethalides, my Lord. I have the
honour of being King Jason's host. This is Hercules of Thebes." Aethalides
beckoned Hercules forward urgently and the demi-god came somewhat sheepishly
to his side. There weren't as many of the Ethicans as he had thought at
first. Only two servants apart from Lord Orides and Ambassador Neman
themselves.
Orides extended a hand to Hercules
that was weighed down by costly rings. The demi-god took it and shook it
cautiously, uncertain whether or not he was supposed to kiss it or not. The
noble looked him slowly up and down as he drew his hand free of his grip. He
didn't seem to be impressed. "Hercules? I seem to have heard that name
before somewhere…"
"Hercules represents King Jason
along with Iolaus of Thebes," Aethalides said quickly.
"Something to do with boats me
thinks…" Orides mused.
"I was an Argonaut," Hercules
explained easily.
"Ah, I see….That explains
why a Theban is here."
Hercules gritted his teeth as the
man's tone rubbed his nerves the wrong way and silently made a bet with
himself how long he would be able to resist the urge to punch him out.
Orides implied not only favouritism but insulted Thebes too.
The noble turned away before he
could say anything however, looking for Pastius as he hovered in the
background. "Ah, there you are. Your finest suite my good man."
Hercules rolled his eyes at
Aethalides at being abruptly ignored and sipped the wine he had brought with
him.
"I have the Acanthus Suite already
prepared," Pastius assured him.
"The Acanthus Suite? Oh no, that
really won't do," Orides exclaimed. "I want the best. The Olympian Suite
naturally."
"I'm afraid that isn't possible,
sir," Pastius answered apologetically. "It is already occupied."
"Occupied? Nonsense! You will have
to tell whoever is in there to move immediately."
Pastius shot an anxious look at
Aethalides then seemed to pull himself together and drew himself up to his
full impressive height; his obsequious manner fading. "I'm afraid that is
impossible, my Lord. I'm sure you will be quite comfortable in the Acanthus
Suite. It's been recently redecorated and is the very best of rooms."
Orides was flushing furiously.
"This is intolerable. I demand…"
"I am very sorry, my lord," Pastius
dared to interrupt him.
"I expect the best. My rank…"
"I appreciate your rank, my lord.
But on this occasion you are out ranked."
"By who?" Orides very nearly
screeched.
"Hercules and Iolaus, my lord."
Hercules nearly choked on his wine. Aethalides hid a smirk behind one hand
and Pastius continued smoothly while Orides was still spluttering in shock.
"One of the traditions of the Gatehouse is that the Olympian Suite can only
be occupied by any visiting heroes. It is in fact a royal command that has
not been broken since the house was built. I would not dare to defy the
custom, my lord."
"Orides, be reasonable," Neman said
quietly. "We are I believe the last to arrive thanks to the blizzard."
"Merely fashionable late…" Orides
sniffed, closing his fan with a snap.
"And an excellent suite has been
reserved for us. It would be churlish to force others to stand aside. And we
would not want to insult anyone, now would we?"
Orides gave him a slow, disdainful
look and sniffed again. "Very well, so be it. We shall accept your offer,
innkeeper. Let us see this suite of yours."
"If you would be so kind as to come
this way then, sirs." Pastius bowed lavishly to them and led the way from
the main room. Orides stalked after him after a disapproving look at
Hercules and Aethalides.
"My apologies," Neman murmured,
bowing to the ex Argonauts. "It has been a long trip and we are both tired."
"Neman! Don't dawdle, man!" Orides
called impatiently.
"Coming, Orides," Neman answered
with a rueful smile and hurried after him. The servants followed, staggering
under a coachload of luggage. As the last of them disappeared into the
depths of the house, Iolaus trotted in. Newly washed and with his hair still
curling damply from his hot bath, he looked a lot warmer and happier.
"So, who blew up the mosaic
makers?" he asked cheerfully, inclining his head after the new arrivals.
"Those are the Ethicans,"
Aethalides told him.
"And apparently we beat them to the
best suite," Hercules observed. "Is what Pastius said true?"
"About the royal command and the hero thing? Yes…"
"So how come you didn't get it?"
"Me? Hey, you and Iolaus have got
an excuse; you’re real live heroes. If I took it as Jason's host, there'd be
trouble with the other delegates. But you guys can get away with it without
making anyone jealous."
"Apart from Orides," Hercules
pointed out.
Aethalides shrugged. "Everyone's
equal at the Gatehouse. Now, come on and I’ll show you to your suite. You'll
want to get ready for the party."
"Did someone mention a party?"
Iolaus perked up.
"You need to lie down," Hercules
grunted.
"Fat chance," Iolaus retorted. "Not
when everyone else is having fun."
* * *
"But why do I have to wear these?"
Hercules complained an hour later as he posed dubiously in front of the
antique bronze mirror in the corner of his room. On Jason's behalf
Aethalides had seen to it that both Hercules and Iolaus would have decent
outfits to wear so they wouldn't feel uncomfortably out of place among the
rich noble delegates. Hercules was of the opinion that Jason had always had
a nasty streak in him and it was showing in the way he had let his tailor
choose the clothes he sent. "These breeches are way too tight!"
Lolling across the sapphire blue
satin quilt on Hercules' four poster bed, Iolaus yawned behind one hand as
he studied his friend's outfit of black silk breeches and a deep red tight
fitting tunic that exposed the sleeves of the black silk shirt underneath
the tunic. Elegant scrolls of gold embroidery enhanced both items. The
clothes contrived to show off the demi-god's height and muscles to his best
advantage. "I have to admit they do show off your….attributes," the hunter
observed with a wicked grin, absent-mindedly plucking at a loose strand of
gold embroidery on the quilt.
"I won't be able to fight in
these," Hercules continued indignantly, kicking at the black furs on the
floor and certain he heard a seam creak in response.
"It's supposed to be a peace
conference, Herc, you shouldn't have to."
"Even so…." Hercules paused
abruptly, staring down at the length of his long legs then peering
suspiciously into the mirror. "My attributes?" he squeaked in
chagrin.
"S L O W," Iolaus mused, sitting up
cross-legged on the bed. He was wearing deep purple breeches and matching
waistcoat over a turquoise shirt with silver embroidery picking out the
hems. A silver buckle clasped the waistcoat, displaying the silk shirt
underneath.
"I can't wear this!" Hercules
wailed.
"You'll hurt Jason's feelings."
"He won't know unless you tell
him."
"And you'll upset Aethalides in
front of the guests."
"Iolaus! This tunic is too short!"
"Don’t whine," Iolaus scolded. "You
look very….nice. Don't be such a prude!"
Hercules swung around and glared at
him. "I am not a prude!" he roared, blushing furiously.
"Yeah, right."
"And I am not whining!"
"He whined…"
"Iolaus!"
Iolaus snorted and bounded lithely
to his feet. Standing beside Hercules, he studied his own reflection
critically. "We look okay. At least we're not going to look out of place."
Hercules moaned softly. He wasn't
used to such an open display of his legs, not to mention other parts of his
anatomy. He was used to a layer of good solid leather between him and the
world.
"And don't hunch your shoulders
like that," Iolaus scolded.
"But the tunic's too short and the
breeches are too tight."
"Looking like you've got a Hydra
stuffed up your back won't improve things."
"Why can't I wear my leathers?"
Hercules begged.
"Because they make you look like
you escaped from Tartarus," Iolaus said flatly. "Now, come on. We are not
going to be the last ones arriving."
"But, Iolaus…."
"You’re whining again. Come on, if
you can face fighting a Hydra you can face one little party like a hero."
Iolaus stalked towards the doors
and Hercules reluctantly tagged after him. "You could go and say I was
tired," he suggested hopefully. Iolaus gave him a level stare. "No?"
"No." Iolaus flung open the door
and pointed. "Go on, get."
Hercules slunk past him, certain he
was going to make a complete and utter fool of himself. "And if I do it’ll
be your fault," he muttered at his partner.
"What?" Iolaus said suspiciously.
"Nothing, Iolaus." Hercules gave
him a sweet smile, then bravely straightened his shoulders and stepped out.
If he was going to be forced into the lion's lair, then he'd go in with his
head held high.
* * *
"Hercules, this is Iocastus of
Parthia," Aethalides announced, introducing Hercules to yet another of the
ambassadors. There were so many of them that the demi-god had completely
lost track of them as one face blended into another. Iocastus was a tall
good-looking older man with dark hair worn in a tight page boy type style.
He was dressed elegantly but in discreet good taste; unlike the Ethicans who
were even more flamboyant now that they had changed out of their 'travelling
clothes'. "Iocastus, this is Hercules the demi-god." Aethalides had learned
caution in his introductions. Most of the delegates were snobs. Before he
could go on however, he was interrupted as voices were raised on the other
side of the banqueting room where the Caspians seemed to be taking exception
to the Ethicans monopolising the punch bowl in between unexpected bouts of
coughing. "If you'll excuse me…."
"Oh, quite, quite.…" Iocastus waved
and airy hand and Aethalides hurried off to smooth the commotion.
Hercules took the hand the
ambassador extended to him with a polite smile. "I'm very pleased to meet
you, ambassador."
"Enchanted, I'm sure," Iocastus
assured him, turning Hercules' hand over and placing a delicate kiss on the
back of his fingers. His brown eyes zipped approvingly over the demi-god's
body and then burned into Hercules' own eyes. "Perhaps we could get together
later and…discuss certain weighty matters?"
Good manners meant Hercules didn't
quite snatch his fingers away from him but his smile curdled rapidly around
the edges. "I don't believe that private discussions would be considered
proper etiquette," he managed to say without stammering.
"Oh, quite," Iocastus' smile
lingered on his sensual lips. His eyes slipped away from him to Iolaus as
the blond hunter innocently strolled over to join them. "I quite understand.
Perhaps you and your friend Iolaus would both care to join me then? I
wouldn't dream of leaving such a fine young man out of our discussions."
"Er, no," Hercules protested
hastily.
"Tsk, surely you're not jealous of
him, sir? Come now, a little wine, a little good food…"
Sipping his wine from a blue glass
goblet, Iolaus looked up at Hercules enquiringly as he stood beside him,
wondering what he was missing out on.
"Some candlelight, a fire…."
Iocastus purred on.
Iolaus choked on his wine and
Hercules slapped him helpfully on the back. "No, thank you, but no,"
Hercules babbled. "We had a rough trip up the mountain and Iolaus needs to
rest."
"Oh," Iocastus pouted in
disappointment. "Perhaps later then? When you have recovered, sir?"
Iolaus swallowed and waved one hand
breathlessly in a desperate signal to Hercules. "I think he needs to sit
down," Hercules said quickly.
"Ah, yes, quite. He does look a
little flushed," Iocastus observed with a touch of concern. Actually Iolaus
was blushing in a combination of embarrassment and shocked outrage. "Until
later then…"
Hercules smiled weakly and hustled
Iolaus away from the Parthian, steering him around a couple of stray
Caspians to a free punch bowl. He grabbed two silver cups, filled both and
thrust one into Iolaus' hand before he lifted the other to his lips.
"Herc, I wouldn't…."
Hercules downed the punch in one
gulp then started coughing wildly as it hit the back of his throat with a
vengeance. "Gods, what is in that?" he managed to wheeze.
"No idea, but apparently, it's an
authentic Corinthian recipe," Iolaus soothed. "You want me to get you some
water?"
Hercules shook his head, wiping the
tears from his eyes. Slowly a thoughtful expression crossed his face and he
refilled the cup, taking a smaller sip this time. "You know it's not that
bad…kind of fruity…"
"Like the Parthian?" Iolaus
suggested dryly.
"Don't even joke about it."
Hercules took another hasty mouthful, barely wincing this time as it went
down. "Almost smooth," he managed huskily.
Iolaus grinned. "So smooth you
could strip paint with it," he observed.
Hercules nodded, cradling his cup
in large hands and taking a slow look around the banquet hall. "Do you
remember who half of these people are?" he asked quietly.
"Nope," Iolaus admitted cheerfully.
"Great. So we’re supposed to make
nice with a bunch of people we don’t even know?"
"So what else is new?" Iolaus
propped a hip against the table and surveyed the crowd with him. "As long as
you don't get too friendly with the Parthian…"
"Oh, very funny," Hercules growled.
"It's probably you showing off your
attributes that attracted him," Iolaus teased.
"Don't go there," Hercules warned,
glowering at him.
"I really don't want to. Trust me."
Hercules took a quick swipe at him that Iolaus dodged easily. The hunter
grinned at him mischievously and fluttered his dusky gold eyelashes. "You
can always tell him we’re an item," he giggled.
Hercules gave him a sober look.
"Don't think I won't consider it," he said and had the satisfaction of
seeing the look of disconcerted shock cross his partner's face.
"Oh, there you are," Aethalides
said in relief as he came up and helped himself to a cup of punch. After he
had recovered his breath, he took a second sip, "So that's what they were on
about…smooth…" he gasped.
"Maybe it's being a demi-god,"
Iolaus mused, staring at him in disbelief.
"What is?" Hercules asked.
"Liking something that tastes worse
than Hydra hide. You guys have no taste."
"Since when have you ever tasted a
Hydra?" Hercules asked sweetly.
Iolaus gave him a dirty look. "Ah,
go flash your attributes at the Parthian."
"And how much of the Corinthian
have you drunk?" Hercules shot back.
Aethalides laughed, his green gaze
ever alert as he kept an eye on the gathering. "Things seem to be going
fairly well," he said tentatively.
"The Caspians and the Ethicans
nearly came to blows a few minutes ago," Iolaus pointed out.
The Herald smirked at him. "Simply
solved. I ordered another bowl of punch from Pastius. I must admit, it does
pack quite a punch…"
"That was a pun," Iolaus
said disdainfully.
"I know, I'm a Herald," Aethalides'
smirk blossomed into a huge grin of genuine warmth. "Gods, it's so to see
you two. I'm so glad you’re here! I was having nightmares about having to
cope with this lot on my own."
Hercules rested one hand lightly on
his shoulder. "Trust me, the first one who steps out of line I’ll snap in
two," he assured him solemnly. "You point them out to me…"
"Er…" Aethalides quailed slightly.
"That was a joke, Aethalides,"
Hercules told him.
"Oh, right," the Herald smiled
weakly. "I knew that."
Iolaus sipped his punch and shook
his head, his blond curls bouncing. "So, what do we do now?" he asked
curiously, flagging down a passing servant with a silver tray of titbits.
Handing his cup to Hercules to hold, he helped himself to a plate and a
handful of fancy pastries. "Do we circulate? Or stand here looking
suspicious but pretty?"
"Actually, I'm about to seal the
wards," Aethalides told them seriously.
"What wards?" Hercules asked
sharply as Iolaus munched a pastry and looked at the Herald curiously.
"The Gatehouse has magic spells
built into its walls. I know the incantations to activate some of the wards
to protect it. Once I seal the wards, no one will be able to leave or enter
the building."
"No one?" Hercules echoed, feeling
a tingle of unease run down his back.
"No one," Aethalides confirmed.
"Not even me. Once they’re up, they will hold until the time limit on the
spell is up."
"Sounds kind of tricky," Hercules
said doubtfully.
"It's traditional," Aethalides
assured him. "It ensures that these negotiations remain safe, peaceful and
uninterrupted. If there are any saboteurs, they'll have lost their chance to
get at the delegates."
"Unless they’re already inside,"
Iolaus murmured. Two pairs of eyes turned on him in alarm. "What? I was
only saying…."
Aethalides glanced uneasily as
Hercules. "Jason told me about the prophecy spell on him…"
"It was an accident and I don't do
prophecy any more," Iolaus said sharply. "And don't talk about me as if I'm
not here!"
"Sorry, Iolaus," Aethalides
apologised contritely. "But that did sound…"
"What?"
Iolaus glared at him belligerently
and Aethalides wisely backed off. He had known the warrior too long not to
know when to retreat. Muttering under his breath, Iolaus turned his back on
them in a huff and stalked off, heading for the buffet table.
"I'm sorry, but he's still a little
touchy about that," Hercules said quietly.
"I noticed," Aethalides said wryly.
"He had a rough time," Hercules
rumbled protectively.
Aethalides looked at him
thoughtfully and smiled. "Still looking out for each other, hmmh?"
Hercules sighed and reminded
himself to loosen up. "I guess," he admitted then scowled. "Why didn't you
warn me about Iocastus?"
"Warn you about what?"
"The man was all but drooling over
me."
"Oh…" Aethalides blushed.
"Oh? Oh?! Is that all you
have to say?!"
"Not so loud," Aethalides hushed
him hastily. "I didn't expect him to….well, you're not…"
"Not what?" Hercules grumbled
darkly.
"I didn't think you were his type."
"Apparently I am."
"Obviously."
"You’d better keep him away from
me, Aethalides. Otherwise someone will get hurt. Probably him."
"Point taken," Aethalides agreed
warily.
Hercules glared at him for a moment
longer and then smiled ruefully, relaxing again. "Want to finish introducing
me around then? Only no more Parthians, please…"
Over by the buffet table, Iolaus
was nibbling on a chicken leg and absently listening to the conversations
around him. The spectacular attributes of the statuesque Caspian
ambassador drew the eye of every man around her. Her long hair was the
colour of best honey and was fastened up into an intricate arrangement of
curls atop her head to show off her slender neck. Her almond shaped eyes
were a deep golden brown with hints of green. She was wearing a long gown of
rich royal blue that hugged her upper figure but swept out into full skirts
from her hips. She was talking to Ambassador Neman who was holding a vase
tucked close against him.
"No, Madam Astrid, I can assure you
that it isn't Greek at all," Neman was saying as he placed the vase
carefully on the table beside him. Iolaus eased closer, drawn by his
curiosity into taking a closer look at the object of their conversation. The
vase was about forearm's length and of a soft golden hue in colour. The vase
was made of some kind of marbled stone, with a narrow neck and seemed to be
intricately carved on the inside, although Iolaus couldn't see how anyone
could have done so.
"Where then did you get it? It's
really quite lovely." Ambassador Astrid had a voice as lovely as her look;
warm honey that could make a man melt.
"It has been in the Ethican
treasury for some time. I have been studying it in an effort to determine
its origins," Neman replied, sounding reluctant to discuss it in too much
detail. "His majesty the King decided that it would make a suitable token of
our esteem to King Jason of Corinth to show our appreciation for arranging
these talks."
Astrid gave him a thoughtful look.
"You do not agree?"
"Of course I agree, madam. He is
after all my king." Neman cast a suspicious look on Iolaus as he reached out
a fingertip to the vase, drawn to touch it without knowing why. The stone
felt warm under his fingers.
"It looks Egyptian," Iolaus
guessed.
"I really have no idea."
"I thought you were studying it."
"I am. But I have no answers yet.
Please don't touch it. It is very valuable."
"Then why didn't you leave it in
your rooms?" Iolaus wondered.
"The servants," Neman said simply.
"Neman doesn't trust our servants,
clumsy oafs he calls them. Let alone the peasants at this inn," Lord Orides
commented as he came up behind his fellow Ethican. He smiled at Astrid who
gazed back at him coolly as he looked her over speculatively. "He's carried
the thing all the way here personally. Won't let it out of his sight.
Ridiculous really. Even sleeps with it under his pillow."
"It's very valuable," Neman
muttered, shooting a hostile look at the noble.
No love lost there,
Iolaus thought wryly, unsure whether to look at her or the vase. The Caspian
ambassador was older than he had thought at first, not that he found that
any problem. Beauty was beauty after all and Ambassador Astrid was one of
those women who would never lose hers.
"Why, sir, do you think someone
would steal it from you?" Astrid teased.
"Yes," Neman said grimly,
hesitated, then qualified, "And it would be terribly insulting to Corinth if
someone was to steal it before it could be presented to the King."
"I represent Corinth," Iolaus said
without thinking. "You could give it to me."
Neman gave him a horrified look.
"What? Now?"
"Why not?" Iolaus wanted to get his
hands on the vase, but he really couldn't have explained why. It was like a
hunger. "I'll look after it for you then you wouldn't have to worry about
keeping it safe."
"Oh, I don't think that would be
proper," Neman blurted and made a wild grab for the vase. In his haste, his
hands were clumsy and he knocked it flying.
Iolaus caught it instinctively; his
reflexes honed sharp enough to catch it before it could shatter to pieces on
the tiled floor. For a moment the vase rested warm and weighty in his hands,
almost melting into his touch. He gazed at it in awe, amazed by the way the
pattern of figures seemed to dance under the stone, gliding into each other
as if there was a living golden light inside it. Then Neman snatched the
vase from his hands and the spell was broken, leaving Iolaus with a
momentary feeling of being bereft that faded abruptly before a sense of
acute danger. "What's in it?" Iolaus blurted without thinking.
"Wine," Neman snapped. "That's all,
only vintage wine."
"Really? Perhaps we could sample
some…" Iolaus urged, startled at his own words and his eagerness to see
inside the vase.
"I do not think so…" The Ethican
was hugging the vase tightly to his chest, folding his long flowing sleeves
of emerald silk around it as if he wished to hide it from view. Orides
stared at him irritably.
"Really, Neman, you grow more
clumsy all the time," he sniffed.
"My apologies, my lord. The long
journey has obviously tired me more than I thought," Neman burbled,
spreading his fingers across the vase almost lovingly. He turned dark eyes
on Iolaus, a dangerous spark bubbling in their depths. "I will present the
vase to King Jason and only King Jason," he said icily. "Now, if you'll
excuse me, I must go and rest."
"What a rude man," Astrid observed,
glaring after him.
"Oh, let me make it up to you,
madam ambassador," Orides purred. "I can assure you that we aren't all so
uncouth."
Astrid gazed at him coolly for a
long moment, then laid her fingers on Iolaus' arm. "Quite unnecessary, my
lord," she replied. "Ambassador, I believe we were going to sample the
punch?"
Iolaus was bewildered, but
recovered rapidly. "Oh, of course. This way, madam…" He led her away from
the fuming Ethican, feeling his eyes boring into his back every step of the
way.
"Overbearing pompous twit," Astrid
muttered under breath.
"I trust you don't mean me, madam,"
Iolaus murmured.
"No. Orides. The man's a moron."
The Ambassador smiled at Iolaus. "Thank you for your rescue, ambassador-?"
Iolaus introduced himself as they
reached the fruit punch and he filled a cup for her. "The vase is lovely
though."
"Yes, isn't it. I felt quite drawn
to it. I collect antiques, you know. Why the things I could show you…" Her
eyes glowed as she looked him over and Iolaus got the feeling she wasn't
talking about antiques. "Egyptian, you think?"
"Huh?" Iolaus did a double take and
dragged his mind back on course. Her hot-eyed gaze was making him
uncomfortable. "Er, yes. It looked similar to some pieces I've seen," he
admitted awkwardly.
"Ah, you have travelled then?"
"You could say that," Iolaus said
mildly.
Astrid studied him with new
interest. "If you'll excuse me saying so, I do not believe you are
Corinthian? Your accent…."
"No, I'm from Thebes. But then King
Jason is from Iolcus not Corinth."
"Quite," Astrid seemed not so much
amused as fascinated by the young man. "So, tell me, are you one of the
famous Argonauts?"
Iolaus felt himself starting to
blush. "I have that honour, yes," he mumbled.
Astrid smiled again and linked her
arm through his. "You must tell me all about the voyage. There are so many
tales told that one doesn't know quite what to believe."
"Most of them are true.
Exaggerated, but true…" Iolaus told her, well aware that she was making a
flirtatious effort to charm him.
"My lords and ladies, if I might
have your attention, please? It is approaching midnight…" Aethalides' voice
carried clearly over the noise of conversation. He hadn't been trained as a
bard and herald in Athens for nothing. He waited patiently with Hercules
hovering at his side until silence fell and every eye turned towards their
host to see what he wanted. Iolaus murmured a polite excuse me to the
Caspian Ambassador and slipped away from her side to join his partner.
"Found someone to flirt with
already?" Hercules hissed at him impatiently.
"She's flirting with me," Iolaus
corrected waspishly. "And at least she's female."
Hercules gave him a filthy look and
then with deliberate disdain turned his attention back to Aethalides. But he
noticed Iolaus lick a fingertip and silently score up a point to himself.
"As you are all aware by agreeing
to attend these negotiations, you have agreed to accept the rules of the
Gatehouse. I therefore declare that anyone who wishes to do so, must leave
now as I am about the seal the wards."
"The wards?" Mollius from Cyrene
pressed forward, frowning suspiciously.
"There is a magical impenetrable
barrier that surrounds the Gatehouse. Under normal circumstances it remains
neutral, but when negotiations are held or the house comes under attack, the
wards can be raised and the house sealed. Once this is done no one will be
able to leave or enter until midnight two days from now."
"Two days?" a Cochean woman in
vibrant red satin gasped.
Aethalides inclined his head
graciously. "Yes, Ambassador Dulcina, that is correct. I believe it will
give us plenty of time to finalise the treaty."
"But what if one has to leave
before then?" Mollius protested.
"As I said, you will be unable to
do so," Aethalides said patiently.
"But what if we don't finalise the
treaty?" Orides complained.
"Once the wards open you will be
free to leave," the Herald answered.
"This is intolerable! We will be
little more than captives! No doubt you plan to murder us all!" the Ethican
squawked.
"Why in Tartarus would they want to
do that?" Iocastus sniffed, wafting a fan delicately in front of his face.
"Why, these wards will simply ensure our privacy and allow us all to get to
know each other much better. Where is the harm in that?" He purred,
gazing longingly at Hercules.
Iolaus moved beside his partner and
prodded the demi-god in the ribs. "He's winking at you, Herc," he
whispered.
Blushing and scowling, Hercules
very deliberately kept looking the other way. "As Aethalides said, anyone
who wishes to do so may leave now," he said pointedly, hoping the Parthian
would take the hint.
"Of course, that would mean any
treaties made without you wouldn't include you," Iolaus murmured, loud
enough to be heard. "And that could be a little embarrassing back at the old
palace…"
Hercules glanced at him and
grinned. For someone whose usual idea of diplomacy was reasoning with
someone at sword point, the demi-god thought Iolaus was doing pretty well.
"If anyone wishes to leave could
you please move towards the doors now?" Aethalides asked calmly. "We can
delay the ceremony for a few more minutes until you are outside."
"In this weather?" the Cochean
Ambassador exclaimed, clutching her long fur robe closer in dismay.
"You can wait in the stables while
the coaches are made ready," Aethalides assured her.
"How simply dreadful," the Cochean
exclaimed.
"Insulting," Orides agreed, sliding
up beside her and looking sympathetic.
"Oh, do pull yourself together,
Dulcina," Astrid snapped impatiently. "You know perfectly well you have no
intention whatsoever of leaving before you have the best possible treaty you
can get for Colchea. No one is fooled by your shrinking flower routine
anymore. We all know what a sand shark you are."
"Well, really!" Ambassador Dulcina
sniffed. "At least I don't sleep with my prey. Sampled any handsome young
men recently or are they running too fast for you these days?"
Hercules turned his head and gave
Iolaus a slow old-fashioned grin. Iolaus flushed and suddenly found the toes
of his boots absolutely fascinating. "Told you she was flirting with me," he
mumbled in chagrin.
Aethalides shifted in
embarrassment. The last thing he wanted was for the delegates to start
fighting. "Does anyone wish to leave?" he asked loudly and pointedly.
There was a low murmur of voices but no one moved towards the doors. "I
assume then that I have you acceptance in sealing the wards then?" There was
another low murmur and a few reluctant nods of agreement.
"This isn't going to hurt, is it?"
Mollius asked warily.
"Some of the more sensitive among
you may feel a slight sensation, but that is all," Aethalides assured him
kindly. "Hercules? Iolaus? If I might have your assistance?"
"You’re asking the Thebans to help
you?" Orides exclaimed.
Aethalides glared at him, showing a
flash of the temper he usually held well restrained. "I am asking two old
and trusted friends for their assistance," he replied as icily as any prince
could be. "The raising of the wards requires a certain amount of power that
I know my fellow Argonauts have. We have done magic together in the past."
"Oh, I'm sure you have," Orides
sneered, looking down his nose at Iolaus and slender Aethalides before
sliding a knowing look at Iocastus.
"Can I hit him now?" Iolaus hissed
at Hercules as the demi-god closed a large and powerful hand over his.
"No, you can't," Aethalides
snapped, taking the hunter's other hand.
"Yeah, you don’t want to upset the
Ambassadors," Hercules scolded.
"Actually, I was planning on
turning him into a frog later," the Herald murmured. Hercules and Iolaus
both gave him a startled look.
"Your magic's improved that much?"
Hercules asked, awed.
"Nah. Wishful thinking. Ready?"
"Oh, do stop whispering and get on
with it," Orides sniffed impatiently. "I grow bored."
"Or maybe a toad," Aethalides
sighed as he linked hands with Hercules.
"How about a toadstool?" Iolaus
suggested.
"A fungus?"
"No…." Iolaus purred, his blue eyes
widening wickedly.
"You are evil, Iolaus, very, very,
evil," Aethalides grinned at him. "Now, concentrate on my words and say
nothing." He paused, took a deep breath and shifted into the deep melodious
tone he used for recitations, "I call on the ancient spirit of the
Gatehouse, on that most ancient guardian that sleeps within these walls…."
Nothing seemed to happen at first,
but as Aethalides continued, a breeze seemed to spring up around them,
swirling in little whirlwinds around their ankles, tugging at a tunic here,
a fluttering cape there….
"I call in the name of Hermes,
guardian of roads, guardian of travellers. I call on that spirit which
dwells within and around us to raise the walls that will protect from within
and without."
As Aethalides squeezed their hands
tight and pulled them towards him the air started to tingle. Hercules felt a
prickle on his skin as if someone had brushed his hair the wrong way. Beside
him, Iolaus shuddered all over as if something had run an icy finger down
his back then looked round nervously as if looking for something.
"In the name of Hermes, I seal this
ward and close the Gatehouse to the outside world."
A vast weight suddenly seemed to
descend on them, as if they had dropped into the ocean depths. Feeling
deafened, Hercules opened his mouth instinctively and swallowed hard even as
the pressure lifted again, leaving them all feeling weightless for a split
second.
Aethalides blinked sleepily, his
expression dreamy and sated. "The wards are closed," he murmured in a low
seductive purr. "What a rush…."
Hercules caught him as the Herald's
knees buckled, supporting him as the delegates looked on curiously. Iolaus
darted off into the crowd and returned with a cup of punch that Hercules
held to the Herald's lips and urged him to sip.
Aethalides wheezed a bit and then
took a grip on the cup for himself. "Smooth…" he croaked as he
straightened up.
"The Corinthian?" Hercules asked
darkly.
Iolaus shrugged and smiled
innocently. "I figured he needed something stronger than the fruit punch,"
he said lightly, his smile wavering a little. "Herc, did you feel…?"
"Not now," Hercules hushed him. "Aethalides?
You okay now?"
"Hmmh?" Aethalides gave him a
dreamy look, then pulled himself together. "I felt something go through me…"
"I do so not want to hear that,"
Iolaus muttered.
Aethalides focused on him and
smiled slowly. "No, it's all right, Iolaus. It was friendly. The wards are
raised. Don't you feel it?"
Iolaus looked around him
uncertainly, then at Hercules.
"It feels…muffled," Hercules said
slowly. "Enclosed…"
"Yes, that's it. A nice safe
feeling, isn't it?" Aethalides chirped. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to
say that the wards are up and the negotiations can begin. But first, let us
finish enjoying our supper and then sleep on it. We can begin renewed and
refreshed…"
As Aethalides talked, bringing the
party back to life, Hercules drew Iolaus to one side. "You felt something?"
he queried.
Iolaus nodded uneasily. "Something
that felt…ancient and…curious…."
"Yeah," Hercules looked around them
and draped one arm across Iolaus' shoulders. "The Gatehouse has been here so
long that it has to be seeped in magic. Maybe some part of it is, well,
alive."
"That's kind of fanciful for you,"
Iolaus teased.
"You got a better explanation? You
know exactly what I mean."
"I guess…. It kind of felt like a
puppy, a big dumb puppy that wants us to like it."
"Not dangerous then?"
"I don't think so. Did you think it
was?"
"No," Hercules admitted. "And
Aethalides seems to have…. enjoyed it."
Iolaus snorted. "He looks like he
got rolled in the hay."
"Yeah, Scary, isn't it? Guess we'd
better carry on mingling…" Hercules sighed as Aethalides signalled at them
urgently.
"Do we have to? I'm kind of tired."
Hercules braked sharply and stared
down at him. "What?"
Iolaus gave him a sheepish look. "I
guess getting half frozen is starting to get to me, after all."
"Oh, rub it in, why don't you?!"
"And I think I’d like to avoid
Ambassador Astrid. I'm not in the mood to be another notch on her bedpost.
Especially if her idea of conversation afterwards is discussing the antiques
she's collected."
Hercules considered this. "She's
probably hoping to influence you into favouring Caspia in the negotiations.
Jason will take our advice on what to do."
"What do you think the Parthian's
doing then?"
Hercules blushed. "I've no idea,"
he grumbled.
"Maybe it's your body he wants?"
"Iolaus…" Hercules rumbled.
"I know. Shut up. I'm going to
bed."
"Want me to come with you?"
"And give your suitor the wrong
idea? You wouldn't want to hurt his feelings, Herc, now would you?"
"Don't you flutter your eyelashes
at me or I'll rip them off."
"Promises, promises."
"Oh, shut up and go to bed. I
suppose one of us has to stay here and show willing…"
"Not too willing. You don’t want
him to think you're easy."
Hercules took a swipe at him, which
Iolaus dodged easily. The demi-god glared after him as Iolaus strolled off,
pausing to make polite conversation, but still making his way discreetly
towards the gilded doors and out into the main hall. Shaking his head,
Hercules started towards Aethalides.
"Did you see that big brute of a
Theban take a swipe at that young man?" Astrid's voice cut crisply through
the air.
"Which big brute is that?" Iocastus
purred in response. "The one with the rippling muscles and gorgeous long
silken hair and oh those nut cracking buttocks and those long muscular
thighs…"
"Stop it, Iocastus, I do believe
you’re hyperventilating…" Astrid scolded primly, swatting him with her fan.
"Come now, I was not
hyperventilating. Fair's fair, my dear. And one surely must be permitted a
certain amount of gentlemanly drooling over such shapely buttocks as
those…."
"True…" Astrid sighed.
Hercules plunged into the crowd,
feeling his ears turn red in embarrassment.
"You okay, Hercules?" Aethalides
came up beside him.
"I'm fine," Hercules squeaked.
"You've gone a funny colour."
"So would you have if you’d heard
what I've heard."
"Maybe you shouldn't have been
listening," Aethalides teased.
Hercules glared at him. "I couldn't
help it."
"Oh," Aethalides decided not to
argue. "Where's Iolaus off to?"
"His bed. He's tired."
"Walking up a mountain can do that
to a guy."
"Don't you start," Hercules
growled. "How about you?"
"Me? I'm fine. That spell was a
little…stronger than I expected."
"Still checking every last detail
first then?" Hercules observed wryly.
Aethalides flushed. "Yes, well…Ah,
Ambassador Mollius, have you met Hercules….?"
* * *
Slipping into his room, Iolaus
closed the door and leaned gratefully back against its solid wood, closing
his eyes for a moment as he bathed in the luxury of an empty room. The only
sound was the friendly crackling of the fire in the grate that warmed the
stone room. The floor was covered with enormous snow-white pelts that could
only have come from the fearsome snow Hydras that prowled the local
mountains and the light of the candles in cressets on the wall struck golden
glints here and there among the furs. Black furs over red blankets and
sheets covered the enormous four poster bed; the red silk canopy of which
was supported by four snow Hydras tusks that were carved with intricate
hunting scenes.
A servant had left a silver tray of
sweet pastries, fruit and cheese and a flagon of mulled wine over a little
brazier on a table by the door and he picked it up, carrying it over to put
it on the floor by the fire.
Unbuckling and stripping off his
vest, Iolaus paused to stretch and arch his back before the blazing fire,
rubbing some warmth back into his arms. He had felt warm enough after his
quick bath, but the cold was starting nibble on his bones again and he was
tired after having to be so polite to so many complete strangers. Curling up
among the furs on the floor, he helped himself to a goblet of wine and some
cheese and settled down to watch the flames and relax. Firelight rippled
over his trim body, tracing golden patterns on the shimmer of his turquoise
shirt. He sighed wistfully, absently fantasising over who he would like to
be curled up beside him as he sipped his wine. He had to admit he had no one
special in mind, although he had a hankering after dark haired women. He had
lost interest in Astrid the second he realised what she was up to.
Sighing, Iolaus set aside his
goblet and peeled his shirt off over his head, then unlaced his breeches and
wriggled out of them. Once he was down to skin, he took his tray over to the
bed and slid in. The same servant who had left the wine and food had put a
bed warmer in place and the covers were nicely warm. Plumping up his pillow,
Iolaus settled down to study the carvings on the tusks until he felt asleep…
Until he realised that not all of
the carvings were of hunting parties but were distinctly erotic in nature
and guaranteed to keep a hot blooded young man wide awake….
Muttering under his breath, Iolaus
rolled over onto his stomach and snuggled down, the warmth melting his bones
as he slid into exhausted sleep…
* * *
The first thing Iolaus knew about
the arrival of morning was someone hammering loudly and insistently on his
bedroom door. Groaning aloud, he turned over and burrowed under his
embroidered satin pillows. "Go away," he mumbled plaintively.
"Iolaus!" Aethalides voice reached
him even through the muffling feathers of the pillows. "Iolaus, wake up!"
"Go pick on Hercules!" Iolaus
yelled back.
"He already did, lazybones!"
Hercules retorted. "If I have to get up and suffer so do you!"
Iolaus pushed aside his quilt
reluctantly. "It's still dark," he complained.
"Then light a lamp, you moron!"
Hercules shouted, landing what sounded suspiciously like a kick on the door.
There was a muttered conversation that held the tones of a scolding, then
Aethalides spoke up coaxingly.
"Come on, Iolaus, it's important."
Slowly and reluctantly, Iolaus slid
out from under his nice warm covers, wrapped a fur around him and padded
across to lift the latch on the door. "What's so urgent?" he asked, shoving
his hair out of his eyes as Hercules and Aethalides slipped into his room.
"It's Neman," Aethalides told him
as Hercules bustled over to light a lamp with the flint and steel by the
bed.
"So?" Iolaus yawned and hitched at
his fur. "You think I've got him under the bed after a mad passionate
night?" He paused, frowned at his own words and gave his friends a
belligerent look as they grinned, "Don't even think about answering that."
"Get dressed," Hercules had found
his clothes for him and shoved them into his arms.
Puzzled but obedient, Iolaus
dropped everything except his breeches and wriggled into them. "What's the
rush?" he wondered.
"Neman's locked himself in his room
and won't come out or answer anyone."
Pulling his blue velvet embroidered
tunic open over his head, Iolaus frowned at them. "Like I said, so?"
"Maybe we should have let him sleep
in," Hercules said dubiously. "He's not really with it…"
"I am not letting you kick that
door in," Aethalides snapped. "Iolaus, I need you to pick the lock."
"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Iolaus
murmured as he padded barefoot back across the floor and rummaged through
his pack for his lockpicks. He studied them blankly for a moment and then
gave Aethalides a bewildered look. "Um, did I miss something? Why can't you
get Pastius to let you in then?"
Aethalides opened his mouth to give
him a short sharp reply and then coloured in dawning realisation.
"Because he hadn't thought of
that," Hercules observed smugly.
"Neither did you," Aethalides
pointed out waspishly.
Iolaus shook his head and sat on
the bed to pull his boots on. "I’ll pick the lock if you want, but I really
think you should ask Pastius first. After all, it is his taverna…"
"Oh shut up and come on,"
Aethalides grumbled and stalked out. Hercules and Iolaus exchanged a grin
and followed him.
The corridors of the Gatehouse were
oddly quiet, hushed with the thickness that only stone can give. Distantly
the occasional faint howl and moan of the wind clawing at the walls echoed
eerily around them. Cressets burned every few feet, lighting the otherwise
dark passages for no natural light got into the inner corridors of the
building.
Aethalides led the way down a
flight of stone stairs to the ground floor, across the hall and down another
stone passage to a heavy wooden door with large metal studs in it that
glinted in the torchlight. A servant hovered nervously beside the door.
"I have continued to call him, sir
herald," he announced on seeing Aethalides. "But he still does not answer."
"All right. You go and ask Pastius
to join us." The servant bowed and hurried off as Aethalides folded his arms
and looked at his companions.
"This is his bedroom?" Iolaus asked
in surprise, peering around Hercules as he blocked the passageway.
"No, he shares the Acanthus Suite
with Orides, but Neman asked for a room for private study," Aethalides
answered.
"Probably so he can cuddle that
vase of his. He seemed real attached to it," Iolaus observed drowsily. "Is
breakfast likely to be any time soon? I'm hungry."
Aethalides gave him an irritated
look. "Breakfast is ready for the early risers," he replied. "That’s how we
know Neman isn't answering. He wanted to be called for breakfast."
"Oh," Iolaus thought this over.
"Did anyone…?"
"Check his room? Yes, strangely,
enough, I did think of that. There was no answer. Apart from Orides getting
ratty at being disturbed."
"Sorry," Iolaus gave him a contrite
look and Aethalides softened.
"Me too. I'm not good at being up
this early either," the Herald admitted.
"Do either of you hear anything?"
Hercules asked. He had moved closer to the door and was all but leaning
against it.
"Didn't anyone teach you that it's
bad manners to eavesdrop?" Iolaus scolded even as he scooted closer and
joined him in listening. Aethalides hesitated, then prodded Hercules in the
ribs to make him move up so he too could listen.
"I don't hear anything," Iolaus
said after a moment.
"Neither do I," admitted the
Herald.
"It was very faint; a scratching,
scrabbling kind of sound…" Hercules said slowly then pounded one heavy fist
on the door, "Neman! Ambassador Neman! Can you hear me?"
"I see he hasn't lost his delicate
touch," Aethalides commented as he felt the door shudder under Hercules'
fist.
"Or his dulcet tones," Iolaus
muttered, having caught the full blast in one ear.
Hercules grabbed his partner's
shoulder. "Pick the lock," he ordered.
"I thought we were going to wait
for Pastius," Aethalides protested.
Iolaus however met Hercules' blue
eyes questioningly for a second and then obeyed, kneeling to examine the
lock and then select a lockpick from his set. After a moment, he frowned in
exasperation. "The key's still in the lock," he complained.
"Can you do it?" Hercules rested
his hands on his knees as he leaned down to look at the lock for himself.
Iolaus gave him a long-suffering
look. "Of course I can," he retorted primly as he jiggled his lockpick about
deftly. "Easy," he murmured triumphantly as the lock sprang open with a
well-oiled click. Shoving the handle down, Hercules pushed the door open,
stepping over Iolaus' feet so he could ease inside and meet whatever danger
threatened first. Then he stood still, surveying the gloomy room without
moving.
"Come on, Herc," Iolaus urged
impatiently, prodding him in the back. "What's the big deal?"
Hercules looked down at him
sombrely and then stepped forward to let Iolaus and Aethalides inside. They
moved to either side of him, automatically flanking the demi-god in battle
stance out of sheer habit. Neither of them said anything as they took in the
shattered wreckage of the room and the Neman's body sprawled on its back on
the floor.
Aethalides broke the silence with a
rude word.
"What he said," Iolaus said
quietly. He looked up at Hercules. "Herc?"
"Stay where you are." Hercules
moved slowly forward, stepping lightly for a big man and avoiding the shards
of broken stone scattered across the floor. He crouched beside Neman,
studying the ornate black hilt of the dagger that protruded from the centre
of his chest. He could see no signs of breathing, but touched the side of
Neman's throat anyway to be sure. The flesh under his fingertips was cold
and flaccid and he was glad to withdraw his touch.
"Is he?" Aethalides began
tentatively.
"Very much so," Hercules sighed.
"Several hours ago I’d think too."
Reluctant to look at the body
Iolaus had moved to close the door too so no one in the corridor could see
inside the room. "The key's still here so the door was locked from the
inside," he observed, scanning the room swiftly. Skirting the body, he
started towards the drapes on the far side. "And there doesn’t seem to be
any other way in or out…"
"Suicide do you think?" Aethalides
asked curiously as Iolaus started to rummage among the drapes and tapestries
lining the walls.
"Wrong angle," Hercules said
slowly. "Iolaus? Are you finding anything?"
"Only dust," Iolaus admitted,
emerging from the far end of the rich fabric wall hangings looking ruffled.
"Okay if I light some lamps?"
"Yeah, it'd help," Hercules said
gratefully.
"Herald Aethalides?" Pastius' voice
called from the corridor.
"I’d better go explain," Aethalides
said gloomily. "I'm going to have to tell this to the delegates too later!"
"Rather him than me," Iolaus
murmured as the Herald hurried out, closing the door behind him. He lit a
final lamp and looked round uncertainly. "Funny how cold it is in here…"
Hercules wasn't listening. "Come
and tell me what you think," he urged, valuing the hunter's sharp eye and
wanting his opinion.
Iolaus grimaced but came over and
crouched on the other side of the body. "Not much blood," he observed.
"No, I noticed that," Hercules
admitted.
Iolaus gingerly touched Neman's
neck and then snatched his hand away. "Must have been killed a while ago,"
he guessed. "But like I said it's really cold in here, that might change
things."
"You ever seen anything like this
dagger?"
Iolaus peered at it curiously,
daring to touch the hilt with a fingertip and trace a pattern. "The carvings
look like the ones on the vase he had," he said thoughtfully, then drew in a
startled breath and sat back on his heels, turning his attention to the
scattered pieces of stone on the floor.
Hercules watched him in
bewilderment as he started to gather the bits, holding each up to the lamps
and smoothing his fingers over the surface. "What is it?" he urged when his
patience could no longer wait.
"This looks like the vase he had,"
Iolaus said slowly, offering Hercules a piece to examine. "But it doesn't
feel like it. The vase felt warm and heavy, sort of soapy. But these…."
"Simply stone," Hercules said,
rubbing the shard between his fingers.
Iolaus nodded uncertainly. "There
was something about that vase," he said uncomfortably. "Something that made
you want to touch it…"
"A glamour you mean?"
"Maybe. Neman was sure reluctant to
let go of it…"
"And if someone else was that
desperate to get hold of it Neman might have been killed for it," Hercules
murmured. "Well, at least it's a theory."
"But how could they get out of a
room locked from the inside?"
"Tricks," Hercules suggested. "You
unlocked the door, could you have locked it?"
Iolaus coloured. "Well, yeah," he
mumbled sheepishly. "But I didn't!"
"Iolaus, I know three people for
sure who didn't kill him. You, me and Aethalides," Hercules told him
reassuringly.
"That doesn't narrow it down by
much," Iolaus said doubtfully.
"But it’s a start. Let's take a
look around and see what else we can find," Hercules decided, pushing
smoothly to his feet. "You take that side, I’ll take this."
"Oh joy, more dust." Iolaus
complained, but set off to explore his side of the room. "It looks like
there was quite a fight in here," he observed, picking his way among the
scrolls scattered across the floor where a stand had been tipped over. "I
wonder why no one heard anything."
"Thick walls," Hercules pointed
out, slapping the stone beside him. He paused, frowning. "But there was that
scratching sound…"
"Rats maybe?"
"Could be," Hercules admitted, but
he didn't sound convinced.
A brisk knock at the door and a
brisk hail announced that Aethalides was back. Iolaus trotted over to let
him in.
"I've told Pastius what's happened
and asked him to bring Orides down. He should know first," Aethalides
announced as he moved around Iolaus, pushing the door wide as he stepped
inside. "The servants have been told to…." He never got anything as
something punched his shoulder and knocked him sprawling as it pushed past
him.
"Aethalides? Are you…." Iolaus was
blocking the doorway as he reached across to close the door and he felt cold
hands seize him and pick him up, hurling him violently out of the way as
what felt like icy cold claws dug into the skin of his upper arms and drew
blood. Slammed into the wall, the hunter slid down to the floor, badly
stunned by the impact and dimly seeing a shadowy shape like a swirl of
movement in water ripple past him as it flowed out into the corridor.
"W'what…?" Aethalides stammered as
he rolled over and started shakily to pick himself up. He was closer to the
fallen warrior, but Hercules still got there first. The demi-god crouched,
checking that Iolaus' eyes were open and he was breathing before he lunged
upright.
"Stay with him," he barked at the
Herald and shot out into the corridor, pursuing whatever invisible something
it was that had attacked his friends.
Aethalides crawled unsteadily over
to Iolaus and touched his knee gently. "Iolaus?" he questioned anxiously.
"Ow…." Iolaus responded
plaintively. "What hit me?"
"I have no idea. Here, can you sit
up?"
Iolaus nodded and winced as his
head spun, but with Aethalides' help he was able to sit up and prop himself
against the wall. "Did you see it?" he asked hopefully.
"No…"
"Oh, that's good. Neither did I,"
Iolaus said slowly.
"Great. That all we need. An
elemental as well as a murderer," Aethalides sighed as he sat cross-legged
beside him. He ran one hand through his copper hair, sighing at the tangles
he found.
Iolaus didn't answer but rested his
head in his hands, waiting for the room to stop spinning. After a moment,
Aethalides touched his shoulder in concern and climbed to his feet.
Cautiously, he peeked out into the corridor, tensing against an unexpected
attack. All he saw was a trio of scared looking servants huddled at the far
end.
"Where'd Herc go?" Iolaus asked
from behind him, making a feeble attempt to get up.
"I don't know. But you stay put for
a second," Aethalides ordered sharply, stepping warily out into the
corridor. "You!" he called to the servants. "One of you go to the kitchens
and bring some clean cloths and a bowl of clean water."
There was a quick discussion, then
the youngest of them raced off while the tallest took a step closer to the
Herald. "Sir herald? What's happening? We saw Hercules rush off…."
"He was…." Aethalides headed. He
didn't think the servants would take kindly to being told Hercules was
chasing a spirit of some kind. "He thought of a clue and went to check on
it," he said instead. "Remain where you are and make sure no one else comes
down here."
"Yes, sir," the servant murmured
politely enough, but from his expression his curiosity had obviously been
frustrated.
Slipping back into the room,
Aethalides crouched in front of Iolaus. "How you doing?"
"Okay, I guess," Iolaus sighed,
gingerly caressing the back of his head.
"Here, let me." Aethalides pushed
his hands down gently and felt through his hair, murmuring an apology as
Iolaus winced. "That's quite a bruise you'll have there," he observed.
"Don't I know it." Iolaus snorted,
peering at his upper arms. Although the creature or whatever it was had
drawn blood, the wounds were little more than deep scratches despite the way
they stung.
"Still as accident prone as ever,
huh?" Aethalides teased.
"Oh, listen whose talking," Iolaus
retorted even as he grinned ruefully at his friend.
* * *
Hercules skidded to a halt on the
main landing, feeling the back of his neck prickling with unease. Whatever
had been in that room had been magical, he was sure of it. But it was no
magic that he was used to. He was good at sensing magic, so was Aethalides.
Between them, they should have been able to detect the presence of
something, but there had been nothing to alert him of anything out of the
ordinary. And now he had lost even that faint trace of it that he had sensed
when it attacked his friends.
The landing was empty, he was sure
of that. It was only his nerves that suggested something lurked in the ever
shadowy corners where the lamplight didn't reach. Slowly, he started to
prowl along the landing, picking the direction at random as being no worse
than another.
He had seen something in the
doorway, a rippling effect like light on water. And whatever it was it had
been solid enough for those moments to toss Aethalides and Iolaus around
like paper dolls. Could it have been solid enough to kill Neman perhaps? But
if so why would it use a dagger? No, the spirit or elemental or whatever it
was, might have torn him apart, but a dagger wasn't a weapon that a creature
of the spirit would use.
"Ambassador Hercules?" Pastius
sounded surprised to see him on the landing. Orides was behind him, dressed
in a flamboyant bed robe in vibrant pink that was heavily embroidered with
gold. He wore a nightcap and slippers to match.
Hercules floundered for a second,
staring at the nightcap with its little gold pom-pom tip. "Ah, there you
are," he managed finally. "I see you found Ambassador Orides."
"He was in his room, sir," Pastius
pointed out doubtfully.
"Quite," Orides sniffed. "And I
must say I do not appreciate being disturbed at such an unnatural hour. I
trust this is all a misunderstanding. Neman has no doubt had too much to
drink and it merely sleeping it off."
"I don't think so," Hercules
replied carefully. "The dagger is a bit of a give away really."
"Dagger?" Orides' eyes widened
theatrically then he abruptly marched forward, sweeping past Pastius and
Hercules and stalking down the flight of stairs into the main hall. "Well,
what are you waiting for?" he demanded impatiently, flicking an imperious
hand at them as they followed him. "Take me to him immediately."
Suppressing the urge to throttle
the arrogant little toad, Hercules lengthened his own stride and strode past
him, feeling very slightly smug as his speed forced Orides to scurry to keep
up. He gave the servants on guard on the corridor a nod as he strode past,
then led the way down to the study where Neman had been murdered.
The door was standing open now and
Hercules sped up a bit to make sure he got there first to check on his
friends. To his relief they were both there. Iolaus was sitting on a chair
holding a damp cloth to the back of his head while Aethalides fussed
anxiously over him.
"One more word, Aethalides, and
I’ll be forced to hurt you," Iolaus was complaining as Hercules hurried in.
Spotting his friend, he gave a slightly wan smile. "Before you ask, I'm
okay. Did you catch it?"
"No. Don't mention it for now.
Orides is…." Hercules broke off as the Ambassador stalked in, puffing
slightly. Iolaus' eyes widened as he took in the man's sartorial splendour
and focused on the bobbing pom-pom in awe.
"Ah, Neman, my old friend!" Orides
wailed, rushing forward. "How could they do this to you?!"
"Please don't touch the body,"
Aethalides said automatically.
Orides however had paused to wring
his hands over the body and gave the Herald a filthy look. "Certainly not.
What kind of a fool do you take me for?"
"I'm glad you understand about…"
Hercules meant to say clues, but the Ethican rolled right over him.
"Goodness knows what he was
doing when this happened," Orides went on to exclaim. Turning his back on
Hercules, he glared at Aethalides. "Who found him?"
"We did," Aethalides admitted. "As
requested I came to call him for breakfast. When he didn't answer, I fetched
Hercules and Iolaus to help."
"The Thebans?" Orides sniffed. His
tone making it quite clear what he thought of that. "A likely tale! Why
didn't you fetch Pastius to let you in immediately? You could have been in
time to save him!"
"I didn't think of it," Aethalides
muttered irritably. "And as to saving him…"
"Hah!" Orides' eyes narrowed in
calculation. "And how do I know you didn't kill him?"
"What reason would I have?" the
Herald exclaimed in shock.
"It's quite obvious I would have
thought; to ruin the negotiations!" Orides folded his arms.
"Neman was killed some time during
the night," Hercules interrupted.
"Ah hah! So where were you,
herald?"
"The same place you were; in bed
asleep," Aethalides shot back, his temper rising.
"Alone no doubt?" Orides sneered
triumphantly.
"Yes as it happens," Aethalides
retorted. "Were you? Can you prove you didn't kill him?"
Orides spluttered at that. "How
dare you?!" he stammered in outrage. "I, I have never been so insulted."
"I'll bet you have," Iolaus
muttered sotte voce to Hercules. Hercules gave him a reproving look
that was ruined by the smile in his blue eyes.
"And neither have I," Aethalides
snapped back.
"My lords, please," Pastius said
anxiously from where he hovered in the doorway. "I am sure the murderer will
be found quickly."
"I demand that he is!" Orides
replied grimly. "I cannot be expected to negotiate with an unidentified
murderer!"
"Meaning he would with an
identified one?" Iolaus commented. Hercules gave him a quelling look.
"Why, I too am an Ethican!" Orides
raved on. "I could be next!"
"We can but hope," Iolaus
whispered. "If only because of his dress sense…."
Hercules didn't quite grin. It was
very difficult to take Orides seriously when his pom-pom kept nodding like a
fandancer's plume.
"I am sure the other delegates will
feel the same way about you," Aethalides retorted.
"Are you implying…?" Orides
sputtered.
"I have no doubt that Ambassador
Hercules will be able to solve the mystery," Pastius interrupted hastily,
hoping to placate them both.
The Ethican however gave him a
shocked look. "You want to leave this to Hercules? For goodness sake
the man sounds like he's been named after a hiccup! And he's a Theban!"
Hercules jerked half a step towards
him and then stopped, folding his hands tightly together behind his back to
stop himself from hitting him.
"And he has a reputation for being
trusted," Pastius pointed out firmly. "As Gatekeeper, I choose who shall
investigate this matter and I choose Hercules. If you are agreed,
Ambassador?"
Hercules inclined his head. "I'll
do my best," he said quietly.
"My goodness, this is ridiculous!
Don't you realise that we’re trapped in here with a killer? We don't have
time for this great oaf to flounder around playing games! The wards should
be lowered immediately and the Watch sent for…"
"By the time the Watch get here,
the killer could be long gone," Hercules pointed out. "I suggest we start
with you telling us what you know about Neman."
"Me? Why I hardly know the man!"
"You called him your friend,"
Iolaus reminded him coolly.
Orides glared at him. "Well, yes,
but not a close friend any more. The man was practically a social outcast.
If it hadn't been for me, he'd have locked himself away with that vase of
his. He's been studying the damn thing ever since they found it. It was my
suggestion he came along with me to the negotiations. He used to be very
good at them."
"The vase…" Iolaus murmured,
looking up at Hercules.
"Yes, the vase. Was it very
valuable?"
"Priceless, absolutely priceless
according to Neman. Where is it?"
"You’re standing on it," Hercules
said dryly.
"What?" Orides looked down at the
shards and paled in dismay. "But, but that was to be a royal gift!"
"Not any more it isn't," Iolaus
said cheerfully.
Orides stiffened and glared at him.
"And how exactly did it get broken?" he demanded sarcastically. "Did someone
perchance drop it?"
"Obviously I’d say," Iolaus
retorted, folding his arms in an effort to avoid rubbing the back of his
head.
Orides took a step towards him.
"You seemed remarkably eager to get your grubby hands on it last night,
young man," he remarked suspiciously.
Iolaus returned his glare coolly.
"Only because Neman dropped it," he reminded him, then because he couldn't
resist twisting the man's pom-pom. "And since I am one of the Corinthian
Ambassadors it was going to be presented to..."
"Exactly! A perfect excuse for you
to come and visit Neman and be allowed in!" Orides shot back triumphantly.
"Obviously you killed him! You wanted to ruin the negotiations between
Ethica and Corinth so that Corinth can declare war!"
"Over not getting an old pot that
we weren't expecting anyway?" Iolaus snorted. "Get real! You’re as cracked
as the vase is if you believe that!"
Orides swung to Pastius. "I demand
that this, this Theban is immediately locked up…" he began. Hercules
grabbed Iolaus' shoulder instinctively, anticipating his friend's lunge and
holding him back for a second in warning before he stepped forward.
"A moment ago you were saying
Aethalides was the killer, now you've changed your mind and blame Iolaus,"
Hercules interrupted irritably. "Who's next? Me?" He lowered his voice
menacingly. "It seems to me that you’re the one looking to start a
war with all these wild insinuations."
The Ethican ambassador caught his
breath and turned angrily to meet the demi-god's eyes as he loomed over him.
"How dare you, sir?!"
"How dare you?" Hercules cut him
off neatly. "I am assuming that you are distraught over the loss of your
friend and are unaware of the inherent danger in what you are implying. I
wouldn't want to think that you were deliberately inviting a duel with one
of my friends."
"A duel?" Orides spluttered. "How,
how…barbaric! It may be the fashion in Corinth, but it most certainly is not
in Ethica. Why no Ethican would dream of behaving in such an uncouth
manner!"
Hercules inclined his head
gracefully. "Quite," he agreed politely.
For a moment longer, Orides
continued to stare at him, then he looked away with the faintest hint of a
blush staining his cheeks. "I am overwrought," he said coldly. "I shall
return to my room and rest. In the meantime, I will send my servants to
attend to poor Neman."
"That won't be necessary," Hercules
said quietly.
"You'll deny him Ethican rites?"
Orides bristled.
"He will not be denied any rites
you choose," Hercules answered politely. "But not until we have finished
examining the body."
"You can’t simply leave him lying
here!" the Ethican exclaimed in what seemed to be genuine horror.
"I have to agree with him there,
Hercules," Aethalides said quietly. "It isn't…respectful."
Iolaus nodded gingerly. "Not to
mention that it'd probably freak the other delegates," he agreed. "Some of
them have some pretty strange customs."
"And this from a Theban!" Orides
sniffed.
Iolaus cast a glance at his pom-pom
and pink night robe and raised an eyebrow, saying nothing but implying
everything with that one look. "We should put him somewhere cold," he
finished saying to Hercules. "Have you noticed it's started getting warmer
in here since…since we opened the door?"
Hercules gave him a thoughtful
look. He hadn't noticed it before, being occupied with other things, but now
that the hunter mentioned it. "Yeah… Pastius? Do you have a cold room?"
"My goodness, do you call it
respectful to stick the poor man in a storeroom!" Orides exclaimed.
"Why in Ethica we would have him rest in style, with candles and feasting
and…"
"Would you rather have him put in
your rooms?" Hercules snapped. "We can arrange that if you wish. I thought
perhaps a cold place to preserve the body would be better until you are able
to return him to Ethica. But if you want to watch over the body
personally…"
Orides paled slightly and clutched
at the neck of his robe. "Er no, quite unnecessary. Somewhere cold would no
doubt be better for his sake. I will leave you to arrange the matter. If you
will excuse me?" He bowed stiffly to Aethalides and then swept to the door,
pom-pom bobbing furiously.
"Lord Orides," Hercules called
sharply.
"Yes, Ambassador?" Orides frowned
at him impatiently.
"One more question if I may, have
you ever seen the dagger before? The carvings appear similar to those on the
vase..."
Orides glanced at the body, a
flicker of sadness crossing his face. "Neman was always collecting bits and
pieces like that. He was more interested in the past than the future. He
thought the vase held the key to eternal life, instead it seems to have held
the key to his death. Yes, I have seen the dagger before. It was with the
vase in the treasury. It was of no interest and the King let him keep it. As
far as I know he had no enemies and I know of no reason why anyone would
want to kill him. So, if there is nothing else you wish to know, may I go
now?"
If Hercules caught the waspish note
in the noble's voice he ignored it. "Certainly, my lord."
Orides sniffed and swept out,
holding the hem of his robe high as if disdaining the touch of the floor.
"If that man had changed direction
one more time he'd have tied himself into a Gordian knot," Iolaus observed.
Hercules hushed him with a look and
turned to Pastius. "Is there a cold room?" he repeated his question.
"Certainly, sir. But I believe we
can do better for the poor Ambassador than a mere store room. There is an
underground temple to Hermes where he can be placed. If you will allow me, I
will go and locate the keys so he can be moved before the other guests get
up."
"That would be much appreciated,"
Aethalides assured him smoothly.
"Why'd it have to be Hermes?"
Iolaus moaned softly.
"He is the patron of travellers,
sir," Pastius answered him politely as he bowed and then hurried out,
clearly eager to get things tidied up before the smooth running of his
Gatehouse was interrupted any further. Aethalides took a step over and
closed the door.
"Well…" he murmured, then turned
bright eyes on Hercules. "So master sleuth, what clever deductions have you
made so far?"
"That we are in deep do-do,"
Hercules snorted, propping one hip on a table and folding his legs at the
ankles as he balanced himself.
"Very erudite," Iolaus snorted,
putting the cold cloth back on his head.
Hercules ignored him. "We know that
Neman was killed with his own dagger and that it was probably over the
vase."
"I think we'd figured that out
pretty much when we found the body," Iolaus pointed out wryly.
"But we didn't know about the vase
being the key to eternal life…"
"Supposed key," Iolaus
corrected firmly.
"Doesn't matter if it is or not
only that someone believes it is. You said yourself it didn't feel
like normal stone."
"My imagination," Iolaus shrugged,
ignoring the odd look Hercules gave him.
"And then there was whatever was
locked in here with him," Aethalides said thoughtfully from where he leaned
against the door.
"Probably a Gatehouse spirit
disturbed by the violence," Iolaus said swiftly.
"Whatever it was, it's dangerous,"
Hercules worried.
"Who says?" Iolaus retorted,
bristling.
"Come on, it attacked you!"
Hercules pointed out, half laughing.
"No, it pushed us out of the way.
We were between it and the door. Obviously it was scared…It didn't hurt
us."
Hercules stared at him for a moment
and then looked at Aethalides in bewilderment. The Herald shrugged. "Iolaus,
are you sure you’re feeling okay?" he asked gently.
"Don't patronise me! I'm fine,"
Iolaus snapped back and came smoothly to his feet. "I think Neman killed
himself and you’re piling Pelion on Ossa! I'm going to breakfast." He gave
Aethalides a glare that made the ex Argonaut move smartly out of the way,
then flung the door open and stalked out.
Aethalides looked slowly at
Hercules. "Maybe the cold got to him?"
"No, it isn't that…" Hercules
straightened up slowly, smoothing his hands down his black leather breeches.
He looked down at Neman and the scattered pieces of the vase and frowned
thoughtfully. "I wonder…."
* * *
Breakfast was a subdued affair.
Aethalides had made the announcement concerning Neman's murder in sorrowful
tones before the meal, somehow managing to sadden them all when half of them
barely knew the man. Orides was muttering about making arrangements for his
fellow Ethican's ceremonies and had changed into black and purple silks with
sleeves that billowed like sails and a ruff that looked like a lacemaker had
exploded under his chin. By the end of the meal, most of the other
delegates were more concerned with appropriate dress rather than be outdone
by the Ethican's splendour and they were somewhat irritable at being delayed
from their fashionable pursuits by being asked to remain in banquet hall
until Hercules called for them.
Leaving them muttering about
uncivilised behaviour around the breakfast table, Hercules drew his two
friends outside into the hall. "We need to find out where they all were last
night."
"You mean whether they were in
their own beds or not?" Iolaus asked dryly as he lounged against the wall
with his arms folded. He had been very quiet during breakfast, eating
sparingly rather than with his usual appetite despite telling them earlier
that he was hungry. Right now though, he looked a little flushed and his
eyes were brightly febrile.
"Something like that, but perhaps a
little more politely," Hercules said hopefully.
"Hah! Go for blunt. It's quicker,"
Iolaus retorted. Hercules gave him a reproving look and got glared at for
the effort. "I'm not a prude even if you are," the hunter
sniffed. "I'll bet Astrid had someone in her bed."
"Even so, they are
Ambassadors, Iolaus," Aethalides reproached him. "We need to show them some
respect at least."
"Why? They wouldn't bother if it
was one of us."
"We don't want them to oppose
Jason's alliance."
"Hmmph," Iolaus snorted irritably.
"I say we should let them get on with their petty little skirmishes and
stand by to pick up the pieces later when we can make something from it.
Corinth can take them all. Why bother to conquer what the idiots will hand
over for free with a bit of encouragement."
Hercules and Aethalides both gaped
at him in astonishment. They both knew that Iolaus wasn't exactly the
epitome of tact and diplomacy since he preferred to settle most arguments at
swordpoint, but he was invariably on the side of peace and he could be a
smooth talker when he set his mind to it. Actually suggesting that they let
the factions carry on with skirmishes that would invariably escalate and
lead to war was out of character for him.
"Are you sure you’re feeling all
right?" Hercules asked anxiously without thinking.
"Yes. Why shouldn't I be?" Iolaus
snapped.
"You’re not acting like yourself.
And you did hit your head…"
"So I speak my mind. I don't have
to have the same opinions as you all the time. What's wrong with that?"
"What's wrong with it is that
you'll start a war with that kind of talk!" Aethalides exclaimed. "What's
gotten in to you?"
"Nothing," Iolaus growled, pushing
away from the wall and starting to pace restlessly up and down across the
tiled floor. "I don't like being caged up in here with a killer is all."
It was a fair comment, but somehow
neither Hercules nor Aethalides believed it.
"You start running your mouth off
to these nobles and you'll do nothing but cause trouble. We want to find the
murderer, not make another one."
"Oh, fine," Iolaus practically
spat. "You don't want my help? I'm not good enough for you? Is that it?"
"No one said…"
"Well, this Theban knows
when he's not wanted! You go ahead and suck up to your precious delegates!
I'm out of here!" Iolaus spun on his heels and stalked away.
"Don't be so touchy! That isn't
what I meant!" Aethalides protested.
Iolaus replied with a rude gesture.
"Iolaus!" Hercules yelped
indignantly. "You can't leave the building! You come back here and
apologise!"
"You and the horse you rode in on!"
Iolaus snarled and headed up the sweep of stairs to the upper floor.
Hercules took a step after him,
then swung helplessly back to Aethalides. The Herald looked furious. "What's
wrong with him?" he begged to know.
Aethalides shook his head, his
copper hair swirling around his face until he shoved it back irritably. "I
have no idea," he said grimly, forcing himself to calm down. "As you said,
he did hit his head. Maybe that has something to do with it. I’d better keep
an eye on him."
"I don't think he wants to see
either of us right now," Hercules argued, putting out an arm to block the
Herald from following his partner. "And we do have the delegates to
question. They won't take kindly to being asked to sit on their hands for
much longer. Let's let Iolaus calm down a bit then I’ll go and talk to him."
"I thought you were worried about
him," Aethalides grumbled.
"A little," Hercules admitted
awkwardly. "But you know he is. He gets grouchy when he's tired or hurt.
He's probably going to lie down for a while and doesn't want us to worry."
Aethalides gazed at him
thoughtfully, seeing the obvious worry in Hercules' carefully stoic
expression. They needed to find the murderer before someone else got hurt
and Iolaus throwing a temper tantrum over something they didn't understand
would simply have to wait. "Okay, Hercules, we’ll do it your way."
"Thanks," Hercules let out a sigh
of relief. "Right. We need to establish where everyone was last night and
who knew where Neman was. I know Neman said the vase was for Corinth, but
did anyone else want it enough to kill for it?"
"They’re hardly going to admit it
if they did," the Herald pointed out.
"I know, but being asked might make
them slip. Or it might prompt them to say something about someone else."
"You’re smarter than you look,"
Aethalides teased.
Hercules grinned. "One thing I know
about the nobles is that they love gossip and they adore doing the dirty on
people; especially if it makes them look good."
"Why, Hercules, you’re practically
a diplomat already!"
"Don't be insulting," Hercules
scolded. "Any other ideas?"
"Only that I think we should
investigate Neman's room. If that vase is anything to go by, he was dabbling
in magic. And I want to know more about that knife."
Hercules' smile faded slightly. "I
was going to get Iolaus to ask Ambassador Astrid about that. He said she
knew something about antiques."
"Maybe you should ask her then."
"Um, well…" Hercules couldn’t help
remembering the conversation he had heard between her and Iocastus.
"Unless you want to talk to
Iocastus?" Aethalides said wickedly.
"You're as incorrigible as Iolaus,"
Hercules grumbled. "You talk to him, I'll talk to her. And in the meantime
I'll get Pastius to watch Orides' men moving the body."
* * *
Sitting on his bed, Iolaus dragged
the furs tighter around him and shivered, staring uneasily into the fire
blazing in his bedroom grate. . His stomach was churning after eating even
the small amount of food he had had for breakfast. He couldn't get warm and
he felt incredibly weird, as if he was floating some six inches above his
own head and he was not at all happy about the way he had snarled and
insulted his friends. He could hear himself saying the words, see himself
doing it, but it was if he had been someone else, unable to stop himself. He
had fled rather than make it any worse, hoping that some sleep and peace and
quiet would clear his thoughts. Miserably curling up on the bed, he burrowed
under the furs and hoped he would feel better when he woke up. He was
definitely going to have to apologise to Hercules and Aethalides later.
Hercules would undoubtedly let him off the hook when he admitted how he was
feeling; the big guy had been awfully upset over dragging his friend through
the snow and would forgive him anything anyway. But Iolaus wasn't going to
use that as an excuse for bad behaviour. And he knew he shouldn't have been
rude to Aethalides at all. The Herald had been right after all.
Sighing unhappily, Iolaus curled up
tighter than ever and focused on the hypnotic dance of the candles by his
bed, willing himself to go to sleep. As he slipped gratefully into an
exhausted doze, he was almost but not quite sure he saw the shadows in the
corner of his room stir and deepen, taking on disturbing depths as they
rippled across the floor towards him.
* * *
Hercules paced the room, listening
to Aethalides expand on what they knew so far about Neman's murder to the
senior delegates. It wasn't much when he thought about it and the Herald was
taking care to avoid admitting how little they knew. They didn't want the
murderer to feel safe. They needed to make him uneasy. Aethalides felt that
that way the killer might make a mistake and reveal himself. Hercules wasn't
so sure. He didn't think someone capable of murder was likely to panic
easily. So, he paced like a hungry basilisk and cracked nuts between his
fingers to seem threatening, tossing the sweet meat inside into his mouth to
chew ferociously as he studied the gathered delegates.
Astrid kept darting little glances
from him to Aethalides and back again, but she didn't seem nervous,
more…aroused. Recalling what Iolaus had said about her, the demi-god could
well believe that events had excited her.
Mollius was blatantly sweating with
nerves, but it seemed to be more fear of being the next victim from the way
he talked than anything else.
Iocastus was watching Hercules
himself, every now and then his tongue flicking out to dance over his lips
as he smiled hopefully up at the demi-god as he passed him.
Orides was clearly angry and bad
tempered, insulted at being rounded up with the rabble as he put it.
Dulcina was pale, but seemed to be
bearing up nobly and Hercules got the impression from her polite behaviour
that she considered herself above panicking.
"Oh, Hercules?" Iocastus leaned
forward in his seat, beckoning to him as Hercules passed his chair.
"Yes, Ambassador?" Hercules came to
a wary halt at what he hoped was out of pouncing range.
"Would you mind squeezing my nuts
for me?" the Ambassador purred, fluttering his eyelashes at him as he held
put a handful of the nuts the demi-god had been munching. "You do it so
well."
Hercules could feel himself
flushing at the look in Iocastus' eyes, but there wasn't a thing he could do
about it without seeming surly. So he took the nuts and crushed their
shells, handing the fragments back to him as politely as he could manage.
"Oh, you’re so masterful," Iocastus
simpered with a knowing expression. "You can crack my nuts any time
you want."
Hercules felt his face go scarlet.
He could guarantee that Iocastus knew he had overheard his remarks to the
Caspian Ambassador the night before and was deliberately tormenting him.
Retreating, Hercules could hear Astrid giggling behind her fan as Iocastus
pouted and mouthed a kiss at him. Coming up to Aethalides' side, he met the
Herald's eyes and scowled at him for the amused sparkle he saw in their
green depths.
"When you've quite finished, oh
masterful one?" Aethalides murmured with poisonous sweetness.
"Ah, shut up and get on with it,"
Hercules growled irritably, folding his arms and wishing Iocastus' eyes
didn't widen that way at the display of muscle on view.
Aethalides smiled wickedly and
turned back to the delegates. "And so, Hercules and I would like to speak to
you all individually to see what you might know about what happened to poor
Neman."
"You’re not implying that we had
anything to do with it, are you?" Ambassador Dulcina said stiffly.
"Obviously someone here did,"
Orides said impatiently. "And I for one am not going to let some foreigner
kill a fellow Ethican without finding him. Or her…"
"It must have been a servant,"
Mollius exclaimed, sweating even more profusely.
"You seem very nervous, perhaps it
was you," Iocastus said maliciously. Mollius cringed in panic, blathering
denials.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" Astrid
snapped. "We’re all from noble houses. It couldn't possibly have been
one of us. Mollius is right. Obviously it's a servant. You two should
stop wasting our time and look for the real murderer among them. That's
where you'll find him"
"Where's that blond fellow?" Orides
demanded to know. "He's remarkably conspicuous by his absence suddenly."
"He went to lie down," Hercules
answered icily.
"Or search our rooms perhaps?"
Iocastus commented.
"Yes, yes, that's it, they'll plant
something," Mollius exclaimed. "They want to make one of us look bad to the
others…"
"Enough," Hercules bellowed. "No
one is going to plant anything and no rooms are going to be searched without
your permission. We will question to the servants too. One of them may know
something."
"But you don't think one of them is
the murderer?" Iocastus asked, leaning forward again. "Why not?"
"Most of them have been here for
some time according to Pastius. It seems unlikely that any of them would
have a motive to kill Neman. He's never been here before, has he, Ambassador
Orides?"
"No, neither of us have," Orides
admitted slowly.
"Robbery," Astrid sniffed. "The
killer obviously intended robbery. No doubt something valuable was taken."
"The only valuable thing Neman had
was the vase and that was smashed," Orides told her thoughtfully. "He was
never a man for riches. I would be a far more likely target if that was the
motive."
"An assassin perhaps then,"
Iocastus suggested. "Someone planted among the servants and out to disturb
the peace talks. We should not allow this to distract us from the reason for
our being here. Neman would not want that."
Orides snorted. "You didn't know
Neman," he retorted, slapping one hand on his silk clad thigh. "I say
question away. Neman won't lie quiet until his killer is found and that will
make his shade as sure a disruption as any." He pushed to his feet and
pointed an imperious finger at Aethalides. "You, come along and I will tell
you what I think."
Orides stomped out, leaving
Aethalides to exchange a long-suffering look with Hercules before the Herald
followed the Ethican out. The demi-god turned back to the others, managing
to avoid Iocastus' pleading look and the lusty contemplation in Astrid's
lazy perusal of his body. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with
either of them. Leaving Mollius to stew a little while longer seemed useful,
so he turned to the Cochean delegate. "Ambassador Dulcina? If you would be
so kind."
"Certainly. Although I do not know
what I could possibly know that would be of any help to you, young man." She
rose gracefully to her feet in a sweep of rose silk skirts and placed her
hand on his offered arm, allowing him to walk her to the door as if leading
her out onto the floor to dance.
* * *
Iolaus had a feeling he was lost.
He had taken a wrong turn after leaving his quarters and ended up wandering
down long dark corridors, becoming more and more unnerved the further he
wandered. No one answered his calls and he was starting to get scared when
he saw a door ahead of him that let a sliver of light gleam out in the
darkened corridor, luring him towards it.
Relieved at seeing some sign of
life in this deserted part of the Gatehouse, Iolaus lengthened his stride
and approached the door eagerly, reaching out to tap on its polished wooden
surface.
"Hello?" he called politely as the
door swung open to his touch. "I'm sorry to intrude but I seem to be lost."
When there no immediate answer, he
slipped inside and looked around him curiously. The room was far more
elegant than the barbaric splendours of his suite. Delicate paintings of
distant landscapes that he didn't recognise ornamented the walls. Cushions
of rose pink, black and gold tumbled in plump profusion across a magnificent
silk canopied bed with coverlets of fine gold and black spotted furs. The
bed curtains were tapestries, finely embroidered with flowers of every kind.
At the foot of the bed there was a single pedestal table on which rested a
silver tray, a crystal wine flagon and twin glasses that were red with wine.
Beside them gleamed a candle and one blood red rose enhanced the table in
its silver vase.
"Someone's expecting company,"
Iolaus murmured under his breath, padding softly closer to the bed and
hoping he wasn't going to find it occupied by a busy couple. "Er, hello? Is
anyone here? Only I seem to have gotten lost…."
"Really?" There was a burble of
beads as the door curtain to the next room was brushed aside by a young dark
haired woman, who had vivid green eyes and a sensuous figure that was clad
in draperies of pale green.
Iolaus swallowed, feeling his mouth
turn dry in the heat she brought with her. He bowed to her politely. "Excuse
me for intruding on your privacy like this, but the door was open…" He
gestured towards it, surprised to find it now closed.
"You tease me, sir," she said
lightly as she drifted towards him on gossamer slippered feet. "You came
seeking me, did you not?"
"Forgive me for contradicting a
beautiful woman, but no. I meant to go to the main hall but I must have got
turned around somewhere. I've never been to this part of the Gatehouse
before."
"It can be confusing to strangers."
She smiled at him as she picked up a goblet of wine and sat down on the edge
of the bed. "Come sit with me and tell me your name."
Iolaus opened his mouth to
introduce himself and found the words drying on his tongue. "Tell me yours
first," he urged, even as he found himself drawn closer. He sat beside her
on the bed, hypnotised by the glinting depths of her eyes.
She blushed. "Ah, I cannot do that
without knowing yours."
"Then we must both remain a mystery
to each other," Iolaus replied coolly, taking the wine goblet she offered
him.
"Must we?" Her smile promised
delights and secrets as she leaned towards him. "Drink…"
"Er, no, I think you were expecting
someone else," Iolaus protested. He had no more idea who she was than she
had of his identity, yet she was blatantly offering him her all. And while
it was a tempting offer, Iolaus couldn't help but wonder if she was part of
the Gatehouse's entertainment for guests. Or maybe it was something,
someone else. Like Hermes maybe?
"Only you."
"Maybe you're mistaking me for that
someone else."
"Only you," she repeated and shook
her head, her hair sliding in a glossy wave over her shoulders and spilling
down over her breasts. A single diamond glinted there, glittering like a
drop of water that hypnotically drew his eyes down. "Do you not think I am
beautiful?" she whispered with a little pout.
"Oh, yes, very…." Iolaus stammered,
dragging his eyes away from the silk fabric moulded over her very curve.
"Then kiss me," she urged. "Drink
of my wine and stay with me…"
Iolaus shook his head, even as his
eyes followed the brush of her fingertip across her ripe lips, brushing away
a drip of wine that she daintily licked off with a flicker of a pink tongue.
She moved closer, her heady scent intoxicating his senses and leaving him
drunk on her presence. "I have to go," he managed, struggling to maintain
some sense of propriety. "My friends are expecting me back."
"No, no they’re not." Her fingers
were warm as she cupped his jaw, her breath soft as she blew in his ear. Her
breasts brushed his bare upper arm, soft and inviting his touch. "Kiss me…"
"Please…." Iolaus didn't know what
he was saying it for, only that some instinct warned him away from her. His
arm slid around her without his volition, pulling her closer against him.
"It's all right," she whispered.
"They won't know, or care…I can be anything you want, everything you
want…only stay with me. Be mine…"
"I can't…" Iolaus begged.
"They don't understand you like I
do. Only me for you…you'll need no other, want no other…We can be together
forever…." Her eyes were enormous, pools of ocean green that he could drown
in. Her lips touched his, brushed him like a lick of fire that would scorch
him to the bone. Her arms enfolded him, pressing him down into the soft
feathers of the bed, holding him with a strength he couldn't fight as her
mouth devoured his…
* * *
"Well, that was pretty much a waste
of time," Aethalides grumbled as he and Hercules stalked back towards the
Olympic suite.
"I'm not so sure," Hercules said
slowly. "Dulcina told me that Iocastus had someone in his rooms last night."
"Oh? Jealous?"
"Funny."
"Or was she implying it was you?"
Hercules scowled at him. "Neither
is that."
Aethalides shrugged. "Only
lightening the mood."
"Joke telling was never your bardic
strong point."
"It isn't yours either."
"I'm not a bard."
"I noticed."
Hercules grunted. "The point is, if
Iocastus had someone with him last night, it rules him out as the killer."
"And rules Dulcina in. What was she
doing up and around to notice him having company?"
"She doesn't sleep well in strange
places she said. She and one of her maids stayed up sewing. The girl's
getting married soon and they’re embroidering her dress. I spoke to her
other maid and the girl confirms it as something they’ve been doing for a
while. The maid also says they could hear Iocastus and his lover er…moving
around for quite a while."
"Rats. What about the others?"
"Nothing of any use. Mollius says
he was in bed alone, which is pretty much what they all say. Astrid agreed
to look at the pieces of the vase and the knife when we're ready. What did
Iocastus tell you?"
"Actually, he said he was alone
too. But if he'd paid one of Pastius' men for his favours, he probably
wouldn't want all the others to know. Or you…"
"Aethalides, I've thought about it
and that definitely isn't funny."
"Ah, you still prefer blonds?" the
Herald teased.
"I'm going to tell Iolaus you said
that," Hercules growled darkly at him as he opened the door to the Olympic
suite. The door opened into the main room between his and Iolaus' bedrooms.
As usual there was a fire burning in the grate and the candles were all lit,
adding their warmth to that of the fire. Despite that, the room felt icily
cold and Iolaus was lying sprawled unconscious on the floor…
With a horrified yelp of his
friend's name, Hercules dived across the room and landed on his knees beside
him with a thud, pressing strong fingers into his throat to feel for his
pulse. He could feel it pounding along like the horses in a chariot race,
yet his skin was icy cold and he was shivering. "He's freezing," he
exclaimed in alarm, looking up at the Herald.
"Pick him up," Aethalides ordered,
darting away into Hercules' room to get the fur off the bed. When he
returned Hercules had scooped Iolaus off the floor and deposited him on the
couch, pulling the whole thing over as close to the fire as he could get.
Aethalides draped the fur over the hunter and knelt beside him as Hercules
sat on the edge of the couch, patting Iolaus' face gently and calling him as
the warrior stirred and moaned.
"Whazzit…" Iolaus forced his eyes
open, opening them wide and blinking furiously as he struggled to focus. "Herc?
How'd you find me?"
"Right here on the floor," Hercules
answered dourly.
"Where…?" Iolaus looked around him
groggily, taking in his familiar surroundings in blank bewilderment. "How'd
I get here?"
"You’re in the Gatehouse, Iolaus,
remember? You and Hercules came here for the peace talks?" Aethalides
explained, exchanging a worried look with Hercules for their friend's
confusion.
"Don't treat me like an idiot, I
know where here is, but not how I got here…"
"We walked…" Hercules offered in
chagrin.
Iolaus glared at him. "What is
wrong with you two?" he demanded irritably. "Where'd she go anyway? Did she
fetch you, is that it?" He frowned at Hercules. "And you’re being
disapproving again because I was with her…"
"I have no idea what you’re talking
about," Hercules reproached him. "Aethalides and I came back here to fetch
you. We found you lying on the floor. I guess you fainted."
"Oh…." Iolaus stared at them
blankly then rallied. "Fainted? I never fainted. That's crazy. I came back
here and fell asleep after breakfast. When I woke up I thought I’d better
find you guys and apologise for being so mouthy before, then I got lost and
I found her and, and…." Iolaus stammered to a halt, looking terribly
confused.
"Maybe you dreamed you got lost and
met someone," Aethalides offered kindly. "You certainly never left this
room. You could have been sleepwalking."
Iolaus looked slowly from one to
the other of them. "I fainted?"
Hercules nodded solemnly, fussing
with tucking the edge of the furs around him. "Looks that way. Maybe you
should go back to bed and rest…"
Iolaus ignored him, turning to the
Herald. "There was no woman?"
"Not unless you've got her stashed
away here somewhere," Aethalides teased.
"She seemed so real. And her
eyes….she had eyes like yours, like…." Iolaus paused, scowling to himself as
he recalled the glacial ice shimmer of her green eyes. "Oh, the
bastard, the unprincipled perverted bastard…" He hissed and sat up,
dislodging the furs and ignoring the sudden spin of his head as he gave
Aethalides a shove so forceful that he actually tipped him over. "It was
him, wasn't it? It was that goat fondler Hermes! He's been in my dreams
again!"
Aethalides pushed backwards on
hands and knees until he was out of range of a sudden kick. "Not to my
knowledge, he hasn't," he protested. "I’d know if he was around."
"So would I," Hercules agreed.
Iolaus took a swipe at his partner
and nearly fell off the couch as his balance suddenly toppled. Hercules
caught him, cradling him in alarm as he pushed him back flat. "Lie down and
rest…."
"Why do I feel so weak?" Iolaus
complained in a small voice. "I feel like I haven't slept or eaten in
forever….Herc?"
"I don't know," Hercules admitted
anxiously. "You didn't eat much for breakfast after half freezing and then
getting bounced off the wall, then you fainted, maybe that's why you feel
weak…"
"You’re babbling," Iolaus smiled
faintly.
"I always babble when you freak me
out. Haven't you noticed that before?"
"Sorry, but keep your voice down. I
have a headache too…"
"I'm not surprised. Having a
headache after you fainted is normal," Aethalides reassured him quietly.
Iolaus peered at him. "Aethalides,
I'm sorry I snapped…"
"It's okay. Look, I’ll go get you
something to eat. You stay here with Hercules and rest." Rising lithely to
his feet, the Herald patted Iolaus' shoulder and trotted out.
Fussing the furs back around his
friend, Hercules looked up and flushed when he caught Iolaus watching him.
"You scared me," he complained.
"Sorry…I don't know what happened.
I don't remember coming in here…"
"Don't keep apologising, simply
stop scaring me…" Iolaus opened his mouth to reply and then smiled as
Hercules held up a hand in warning. "Ah, not again," the big man scolded as
he sat down beside him on the couch. "Maybe you should get some sleep now
while I'm here to watch you."
Iolaus pouted at him and stretched,
folding his arms behind his head for a pillow. "I may feel weird, but I
don’t feel tired," he explained. "Talk to me. Have you find the killer yet?"
Hercules sighed and folded his arms
across his chest. "No," he admitted ruefully. "But I did get propositioned…"
"You did?" Iolaus gave him a round
eyed look of awe. "How unusual…"
Hercules blushed and studied his
boots tips. "It's this damn tunic, it's too damn short."
"Yeah right. Who propositioned
you?"
"Can't you guess?"
"Astrid?"
"And?"
"Iocastus? Now there's a
surprise…."
"Don't be sarcastic. Anyway, it's
the fact he damn well pinched me that was the damn surprise," Hercules
muttered in a surly tone. "It isn't fair. Anyone else did that and
I’d snap his fingers off, but he's a damn Ambassador…"
* * *
"No one propositioned me,"
Aethalides grumbled an hour later. Iolaus was sitting on the bed in his room
where he had moved while he and Hercules waited for the bard to return.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, the hunter was busily polishing off the
last chicken leg and licking his fingers clean like a cat. His colour had
improved and he was definitely looking and feeling better for a decent meal
and a glass of spiced mulled wine.
"It's the legs that does it,"
Iolaus said cheekily, winking at Hercules.
Hercules glowered at the pair of
them from where he leaned against the doorjamb. He was wearing a black
velvet gold embroidered tunic over black leather breeches. "This damn tunic
is too damn draughty round the nether regions," he grumbled.
"Ah, don't be so grouchy,"
Aethalides retorted. "At least you look the part of an Ambassador instead of
like you fell off a fishing boat."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"You were looking a little…scruffy,
shall we say?"
"Disreputable's a good word,"
Iolaus chirped helpfully.
"And don't think I wasn't including
you in that description," Aethalides told him primly. "Your clothes were
ruined."
Iolaus stared at him for a long
moment and then pointed an imperious finger at him. "Hurt him, Hercules."
Hercules chuckled, his mood
lightening. He knew Iolaus would never mean an order like that. "What would
you prefer? A general maiming? Or snapping a few bones?"
Iolaus sniffed as Aethalides
laughed. "Being dragged up a mountain is not good for one's sartorial
splendour anyway," the hunter muttered, miffed.
"Hmmh. Done it often, have you?"
the Herald teased.
"Hey, we don't all get to loll
around in a palace looking pretty," Iolaus retorted.
"Ooh, I never knew you thought I
was pretty, sweetness," Aethalides cooed, fluttering his copper
eyelashes at him. "This is so sudden. Care to loll around with me,
sugar?"
Iolaus stared at him in horror for
a moment and then shuddered as the Herald burst out laughing at his shocked
expression. "Did anyone else go to a scary place then? You sounded exactly
like you know who," the hunter exclaimed in complaint.
"I practise," Aethalides laughed.
"It impresses the listeners."
"It doesn't impress me, it's
scary," Iolaus scolded indignantly.
Hercules grinned. "I thought your
reaction was pretty impressive," he teased and then broke off as someone
hammered urgently on the outer door. Straightening up, he called for them to
come in.
The door was opened and Pastius
stuck his head inside. He looked unusually flustered. "I'm terribly sorry to
intrude, sirs," he panted, clearly having run all the way to the suite. "I
wouldn't dream of intruding normally, but I believed you should know
immediately."
"What is it, Pastius?" Aethalides
slipped around Hercules to greet the innkeeper.
"It's young Flavius, sir," Pastius
began, clasping his hands together anxiously in front of him. "I know he was
no better than he should be. He was sent up here to keep him out of trouble
and to curb his philandering ways, but…but…he wasn't really bad…"
"Was?" Hercules said sharply, aware
of Iolaus joining him in the doorway.
Pastius nodded, practically crying
in his distress. "He's been found, sir, cruelly murdered. I thought you
should know…" He looked anxiously from one to the other of them. "Oh, sirs,
you will find who killed him, won't you? I know he's not as important as
Neman but…but…he didn't deserve to be killed…"
Hercules took his arm and guided
him to a chair while Iolaus fetched what was left of the wine. "Drink this
and calm down," Hercules ordered him steadily when Iolaus pressed the goblet
into the man's hand.
"If Flavius was murdered then we'll
find his killer," Aethalides assured him. "But first, Pastius, tell us what
you know of where he was when Neman was killed."
"Oh, sirs, you don't think, he
killed the Ambassador, do you? Despite his loose ways, he was never
violent…"
Aethalides glanced up at Hercules
and got a cool nod of understanding. It looked like they might have found
Iocastus' late night companion. "No, Pastius, we don’t. But Neman's killer
may have killed Flavius too. He may have seen something. So, tell us what
you know about him…"
* * *
Flavius lay where the servants had
found him, half curled up in a corner of the corridor. Iolaus shooed Pastius
back around the corner while Hercules and Aethalides exchanged grim looks.
Aethalides knelt to examine the body, lifting back the sheet that had
respectfully been laid over him. His sharply in drawn breath before he even
started to examine the body made Hercules crouch beside him.
Flavius had been older than
Hercules had expected from Pastius had said, close to his own age in fact.
He had been dark haired and strongly built, muscular and sturdy the way
Iocastus seemed to like them. There was an odd little smile on his face,
fixed in place now as his flesh cooled, but his skin seemed stretched tight
over his bones, as if he had spent too much time in the sun.
"Guys?" Iolaus called from where he
had stopped to look for tracks in the dust. According to Pastius, this part
of the Gatehouse was little used except by servants taking shortcuts.
"What?" Hercules looked over his
shoulder at him.
"There's a door here and tracks."
Hercules exchanged a look with
Aethalides and then rose to go to the hunter's side. Iolaus was crouching,
studying the tracks he had found. "I don't see any door," Hercules said,
puzzled.
"Look close." Bouncing to his feet,
Iolaus ran his fingers down a line in the heavily carved stone. It looked
like a crack between the heavy blocks until Hercules pressed his hand over
it and felt the draught that came through it. "I think it must be one of the
secret passages Aethalides mentioned. I wonder where it goes."
"I don't know but we'll ask Pastius."
"I'm sure I could figure out how to
open it. I could…."
"No."
"You don't know what I was going to
say."
"You were going to suggest
exploring. And we are not going to go wandering around secret passages when
there's a killer on the loose. What about these tracks?"
Iolaus gave him a frustrated look,
but crouched. "Two sets of prints. Soft soled slippers; they'd be expensive.
They lead to and from this door. And leather ones; coming to and from this
wall. Twice. I’d say the second ones belong to Flavius."
"Twice?" Hercules studied the
tracks curiously.
"Yeah. And they cover the slippers.
So whoever it was, was following slipper man."
"Sure it's a man?"
"You don't usually get women with
feet of that size."
"Okay. Any chance of seeing where
they go?"
Iolaus shook his head in
disappointment. "The dust has been disturbed."
"Too many people have crossing
them," Hercules sighed.
"That too. It's like a wind's blown
through here…"
Hercules pursed his lip and then
padded back to Aethalides with Iolaus on his heels.
"Any sign of a wound?" Iolaus asked
softly as Hercules crouched beside the Herald.
"There is no wound," Aethalides
said grimly, glancing back at him.
"What killed him then?" Iolaus came
closer to peek over Hercules' shoulder curiously.
"I'm not sure," Hercules said
slowly. "I was expecting a knife or maybe…Could he have been strangled?"
"There are….fang marks on his neck
and he seems to have been drained of blood," Aethalides said slowly. "But he
looks…happy despite…." He shrugged helplessly.
"Maybe he wasn't murdered then?"
Iolaus suggested, studying the dried out face of the man. "Could it have
been, well, natural?"
"What do you think?" Hercules gave
him a sharp look.
"Me? Why ask me?" Iolaus backed
away, suddenly defensive.
"Have you ever seen anything like
this? Does it look natural to you?" Hercules wanted to know, ignoring
the puzzled look Aethalides gave him.
"No, yes….um…." Iolaus hesitated.
"It reminds me of those zombie things that attacked us when we were
Argonauts…"
"I was really hoping you weren't
going to say that, Iolaus," Hercules groaned.
"Oh, gross," Aethalides shuddered
and sat back on his heels. "You think he's going to get up again?"
"You know more about magic than we
do. You tell us," Hercules pointed out dryly.
"Oh, oh, yeah, so I do," the Herald
flushed slightly. "Well, I wouldn't have thought so, but I guess we can make
sure he doesn't."
"What's with this we?" Iolaus
demanded. "I don't want anything else to do with zombies ever again. The
last time was bad enough!"
"Take it easy, guys," Hercules
soothed as he straightened up. "The point is that whatever killed Flavius
wasn't human. Nothing human could have sucked him dry like this. So Neman's
murderer didn't kill him. Unless…"
"Unless? Unless what?" Iolaus
squeaked.
"Suppose there was something in
that vase. Suppose it was under Neman's control and, now it's been released,
it's under the killer's control."
"And they ordered it to kill
Flavius?" Aethalides guessed.
"It's possible…" Hercules said
thoughtfully.
"Or it got hungry," Iolaus added.
"What?" Aethalides and Hercules
both looked at him in surprise.
"Er, I have no idea why I said
that. I don't believe in vampires," Iolaus admitted, squirming in
embarrassment. "Don't mind me. I'll go and talk to Pastius about that secret
passage, shall I?"
As he darted off, Hercules and
Aethalides exchanged a look. "Strange as it might sound, that is a definite
possibility," Hercules said slowly. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I don't know. What are you
thinking?"
"Funny. That it's something like a
vampire?"
Aethalides considered, pursing his
lips. "Why something like a vampire?" he asked slowly. "Why not a
vampire?"
"Because I think it was contained
in that vase. That means it has a spirit form not a physical one. If you
kill a vampire all you get is dust. You can't exactly bottle its essence."
"But you can reconstitute one with
blood."
"There wasn't much blood around
when Neman was killed," Hercules reminded him. "And we would have seen it in
the room. They can't walk through walls as far as I know."
"Okay, how about a Lamia instead?
It's essence could be trapped," Aethalides said slowly. "And if it
was snared, then it would have to answer to a master to survive. And it
could use its victim for a mortal form."
Hercules' eyes widened. Lamias were
shapeshifters, taking on the form that most appealed to their victims so
that they could drain the energy and life from their lovers, and it did seem
more likely than a vampire that would only have drained the blood. "What was
it Orides said about the vase being the key to eternal life? Isn't there a
legend that if you can trap the essence of a Lamia, you can force it to give
you eternal life?"
Aethalides nodded slowly. "They
have to share the energies of their victims with their master and keep him
young too. But if it is some kind of Lamia, what are we going to do?
It's trapped inside the wards for now, but if it got out-." He shivered. "A
vampire would be easier to deal with!"
"I know. You don't have to remind
me. We have to find out who its master is. We have to find Neman's murderer
before it kills again. And we have to do something about Flavius before he
rises."
Aethalides ran one hand through his
copper hair, making it ripple like fire. "And we’d better do it before the
delegates come out of their talks. Let's get Iolaus and put the body with
Neman's."
"Right. They can be company for
each other," Hercules agreed, almost cheerfully.
Aethalides gave him a strained
look. "You know, Hercules, sometimes you have the weirdest sense of humour."
"Sorry. I think Iolaus is rubbing
off on me."
* * *
Flinging the doors to the temple
catacomb open, Iolaus stepped aside and bowed gracefully low as Hercules and
Aethalides carried Flavius' body in. He had caught up with them in the
corridor. "You could help you know," Aethalides grumbled as they lugged the
body over to the nearest stone plinth. There were three all together; one of
them held Neman's body covered over by a velvet drape.
"What? Poor mortal me?" Iolaus
exclaimed, fluttering his eyelashes at him in dismay. "I did my bit. I asked
Pastius about the passage."
"And?" Hercules asked.
"He thinks it connects up with
Neman's rooms."
Aethalides nearly dropped his end
of the body and came to a halt. "Then the tracks…." Hercules grunted
irritably and gave the Herald a pointed look. "Oh yeah, sorry…."
Hercules snorted again as he and
the Herald placed Flavius gently on the plinth. "Cold down here," he
observed as Iolaus trotted over to fetch a folded velvet cloth to cover the
body with. There were no statues within the catacomb, but the walls were
painted with colourful scenes of beautiful youthful men and women banqueting
among the flowers and lakes, mountains and trees of the Elysian Fields. A
doorway at the far end entered onto the temple proper where a statue of
Hermes could be glimpsed.
Seeing where Hercules was looking,
Iolaus trotted over and firmly closed the door. He definitely didn't want
Hermes to know he was here. "Now can we go back…." Iolaus began as he turned
back, then yelped in alarm. "Aethalides! What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" The
Herald had peeled back the cover over Neman and was examining the body.
"Come and look at these slippers. Do they match the tracks?"
Iolaus reluctantly came closer and
peered at body's feet. "No," he admitted. "These are very soft leather and
there's a cut here that would have shown up…."
"So, it wasn't Neman. And the other
tracks were Flavius, you said?" Hercules glanced at his partner as Iolaus
backed away from the plinth.
"Yes," Iolaus said firmly.
"So presumably he saw the killer
enter or leave the secret passage. Maybe that was why Flavius was killed; to
stop him telling what he knew."
"You’re forgetting that Flavius was
killed by something unnatural. He wasn't murdered as such." Aethalides
pointed out as he made a careful examination of the knife. He curled his
fingers around the dagger, estimating the force and angle of the wound
before he let go. "It was the knife that killed Neman, Hercules. There's no
sign of desiccation."
"You’re ghouls," Iolaus complained,
folding his arms and shivering. "Both of you, ghouls!"
"They could have taken the knife
out," Hercules muttered.
"You said not to," Aethalides
reminded him. He looked at a nervous Iolaus and then exchanged a
conspiratorial look with Hercules. Hercules caught on fast and the corner of
his mouth hooked up in a wicked grin.
"Did I? Oh well, pull it out now
then."
"Why don't you do it?"
"Why do I get an uneasy feeling
about this?" Iolaus murmured, sidling warily round them.
"I'm a demi-god," Hercules reminded
him.
"So am I and what's that got to do
with it? You’re stronger than I am."
"You said the dagger might be
magic," Hercules pointed out. "If a demi-god touches it, it might do
something. We might activate the spell."
"I'll be going now," Iolaus said
softly, tiptoeing towards the doors.
"Then a mortal should do it. Isn't
it lucky we have one with us? Oh, Iolaus…"
"Damn, almost made it," Iolaus
sighed ruefully and swung back to face them. "I really don't think I should
do it," he exclaimed, all wide eyed innocence. "I mean if it's dangerous
for you, it's probably dangerous for me too and I couldn't possibly
be strong enough to do it anyway."
"Cluck, cluck, cluck," Hercules
teased.
"Low blow," Iolaus grumbled,
glaring at him. "Why do I have to do it?"
"Why not?" Hercules responded.
"Hercules could be right…"
Aethalides pointed out. "And why not you? Suddenly squeamish, are you?"
Iolaus gave him a dirty look and
came back to look down at the body. "Why does anyone have to pull it out
anyway?" he asked plaintively.
"Well, we can hardly leave it
there," Hercules pointed out.
Aethalides prodded Iolaus in the
back. "Unless you want to help me with Flavius?" he asked. "We have to fill
his mouth with salt and then sew…."
"I'll pull the knife," Iolaus said
quickly. "Don't stand there watching me." He wiped his hands down his pants
legs and licked his lips before taking a tentative hold on the dagger and
tugging gingerly. Nothing happened. The blade was stuck tight in the bone.
He could feel it grating on ribs and grimaced, doing his best not to think
about it as he took a better, stronger hold.
Grinning, Aethalides tugged at
Hercules' sleeve and led him over to the far plinth. Hercules however had a
doubtful expression on his face. "You know, teasing aside, thinking about
it…I'm having second thoughts…. " he said slowly. "I don't think…..Iolaus,
don't…." He swung back to his friend as Iolaus took a firm grip on the
dagger's handle and pulled with all his strength.
Coruscating blue white energy
exploded from Neman's body, dancing like living tongues of flame over and
around him, running like liquid down the sides of the plinth and scorching
up the knife and into Iolaus. The hunter was literally plucked off his feet
and flung across the room to crash into the wall several feet above the
ground and hang there limply, twisting amid the snapping lashes of crackling
energy.
"Iolaus!" Hercules howled as he ran
to his lightning chained friend, staring up at him in alarm. "Aethalides,
do something!"
"I don't know what to do,"
the Herald protested, looking around him desperately. He didn't have the
spells for this.
"Hurry up! It's killing him…!"
Hercules wailed, reaching up through the spitting sparks to attempt to grab
his friend's ankles and struggle to pull him down. Lines of energy wrapped
his wrists, trapping him. To his astonishment they didn't burn as he
expected, but held him fast unable to touch the hunter.
Above him Iolaus opened his eyes,
his gaze hazy with blue fire. Hercules couldn't hear what he said, but he
could read the words his lips shaped. Get me down….
"Aethalides!" Hercules
screamed.
"Okay, okay….um…." Aethalides
scrubbed one hand through his hair and then did the only thing he could
think of, he reached through the spitting hissing flames engulfing Neman's
body and grabbed the dagger by the hilt, exerting himself with one frantic
pull….
The dagger came free like a knife
from butter, tipping the startled Herald on his rear end on the floor with a
snake of lightning curling inquisitively around him. Shocked, he dropped the
knife without thinking. Sparks danced around his fingers like fireflies,
glimmering prettily on his fingers before they went out.
At the same moment, the crackling
lines of energy that had ensnared Iolaus snapped, dropping the hunter
without warning and releasing Hercules from its grasp. Reacting
instinctively, Hercules stuck out his arms and caught his friend before he
could hit the floor and break his neck. He folded under him, hitting the
floor with a thud that knocked the breath out of both of them as he broke
Iolaus' fall with his own body.
Energies swirled around the room
like a blue white whirlwind, spiralling downwards until they funnelled back
into the dagger. A few last late sparkles ran over the black hilt of the
knife then all was still again.
Aethalides was the first to stir
and cautiously sit up, eyeing the dagger as it lay innocently on the stones
beside him. "Well…" he murmured in dazed awe. "Hercules? Iolaus? You guys
okay?"
"Yeah…." Hercules wheezed and
stirred, gingerly rolling Iolaus off his chest.
"Speak for yourself…." Iolaus
whimpered. "Ow, ow, ow…."
Aethalides picked himself up and
shuffled over to them. "Are you hurt?" he asked as he crouched stiffly
beside his friends. "Burnt?"
"No, it wasn't hot," Hercules
murmured. He gave Iolaus a gentle prod in the ribs. "Stop making so much
fuss, you’re not hurt."
Iolaus opened his eyes and gave him
an annoyed look. "But I could have been and it's no thanks to you two that I
wasn't after setting me up like that!"
"Sorry," Hercules mumbled,
genuinely contrite.
"We didn't know," Aethalides
soothed. "It didn't react when I touched it."
"Well, it did when I did!" Iolaus
snarled as he sat up and rested his head dizzily in his hands for a moment.
"Yes, but it shouldn't have done,"
Aethalides said, frowned. "Come on, Iolaus, you don't really think I’d let
you do something I thought was dangerous, do you?"
Iolaus hesitated, then looked up at
him in exasperation. "I guess not." He turned his gaze to Hercules and
smiled ruefully at his worried expression. "I don't really blame you," he
admitted wryly. "It…startled me is all."
Scared would be a better word,
Hercules thought but he didn't say it aloud. He had been scared too. "Are
you going to say it only wanted to get away this time too?"
Iolaus gazed at him in bewilderment
for a moment then started to frown. "It wasn't the same thing at all," he
argued.
"No," Aethalides agreed. "This
wasn't a…spirit. This was magic. A spell somehow connected to the knife."
"And it didn't actually hurt any of
us," Hercules said thoughtfully. "It was like…" He paused, looking from one
to the other of his friends. "It felt like it was looking for something."
"Yeah? Well, it more or less
ignored me and it stopped you from helping Iolaus, but it went for Iolaus…"
Aethalides said slowly. He walked back towards the dagger where it lay on
the floor and crouched to gaze at it thoughtfully.
"Don't look at me. I don't know
what it wanted to tell me," Iolaus protested.
"Who said it wanted to tell you
anything?" Hercules said quickly.
Iolaus gave him a blank look. "I
don't know. A feeling…What are you scowling at me for now? I didn't do
anything except what you told me to do. I didn't want to touch the knife!"
"I'm not scowling, I'm thinking,"
Hercules retorted.
"Must hurt then," Iolaus snorted,
pulling his feet under him and pushing slowly upright. He had to lean on the
wall for support until he got his balance.
"You’re more shaken than you
think," Hercules said in concern as he got up slowly. "Iolaus, didn't you
say you'd touched the vase?"
"What vase?" the hunter said,
giving him a blank look.
"Neman's vase," Hercules told him
patiently.
"Oh, yeah, that vase. Yeah, I
caught it when he dropped it," Iolaus admitted, frowning. "You mean the
knife went after me because it's connected to the vase and I touched it?
Like it's protecting it?"
"Something like that," Hercules
said slowly. "Aethalides, I think it's time we went through Neman's things.
Maybe you can find something out about the knife and the vase. We need to
know what we’re dealing with."
The Herald looked up, holding the
dagger lying quiescent in his hand. "That sounds like a good idea," he said
mildly. "But maybe Iolaus should go and take a bath."
"You mean you want to get me out of
the way?" Iolaus growled, bristling.
"No, I mean you hit that wall
pretty hard and you’re going to bruise if you don't."
"Oh," Iolaus slumped slightly in
chagrin.
"Now would be good, Iolaus. Unless
you want to help me here? I need to cleanse Flavius' body so he doesn't
rise," Aethalides prompted dryly.
"Oh!" Iolaus started for the door
where he hesitated. "Herc?"
"I'll stay and help Aethalides.
Unless he really is going to sew his mouth up…?"
Aethalides smiled wickedly at him.
"I wish you wouldn't do that,"
Hercules moaned.
"I'm going," Iolaus yelped and
darted out in hurry. Hercules gave the Herald a queasy look.
"You’re not…?"
"No, but I have a feeling we should
keep Iolaus out of reach of any magic we find from now on."
Hercules gave the Herald a baffled
look. "Why? He's good at puzzling things out."
"I know, but think about it. The
spell on the dagger attacked him. Something definitely happened to him in
your suite. Remember how cold it was, how tired and drained he seemed? It
was an awful lot like what happened to Flavius. Then there's what happened
in Neman's room when whatever was in there got out? Remember how Iolaus
reacted?"
"Yeah," Hercules admitted slowly.
"But you’d better not be suggesting Iolaus is the killer, Aethalides,
because…."
"I know, I know, you'll break me
into little pieces. No, I think that whatever was in that vase may have
latched on to him because he was the last person other than Neman to touch
it. It needs a master and it needs to feed."
"Iolaus wouldn't…."
"I'm not saying he knows anything
about it. But think how protective he was about whatever was in that room.
It could be using him to protect it while it finds a new master that wants
it and it can manipulate. Or…"
"Or what?" Hercules demanded
uneasily, unnerved by his tone of voice and prompting him when the Herald
fell into a thoughtful silence.
"Or it finds its master's killer.
It's been freed from its captivity because the vase has been smashed and no
one here actually knows how to control it. The only people who have a claim
on it right now are the person who freed it and possibly Iolaus. If it can
kill them, it's free. It won't need anyone."
"What if it goes after Iolaus
first?" Hercules said in alarm.
"It can't until it kills the
killer. Then…"
"Aethalides, sometimes the way you
think scares me," Hercules complained. "Sprinkle your salt or whatever it is
you have to do for Flavius, then come on. If you’re right, I don't want to
leave Iolaus on his own for too long."
"Water is a protection against
magic," Aethalides pointed out complacently as he unfastened the pouch at
his belt and started to sort through the bits and pieces of his spell kit.
"Assuming he takes a bath and
doesn't go wandering off," Hercules grumbled, folding his arms and scowling
impatiently.
Aethalides pursed his lips as he
located a paper twist of salt. "I don't think he's in any danger. Iolaus is
a very energetic person. Any Lamia would lick its lips over him and
make him last a while. He may be safer than any of us."
* * *
By the time he reached the
bathhouse, Iolaus had gone from being glad to escape Aethalides and his
anti-zombie spells to annoyance at being more or less told to get lost. He
stripped off impatiently in the outer changing room, wrapped a towel around
his waist and stalked into one of the bathing chambers. He was alone since
the other guests preferred to bathe - if at all - in the comfort and privacy
of their own suites with their servants to dance attendance on their every
move. Having the bathhouse to himself suited him however; he wasn't in the
mood for company.
Bunch of lazy good for
nothings…. Iolaus thought irritably as he
dropped his towel on one of the ornately carved stone seats and touched his
toe gingerly into the hot water of the oval bathing pool. The water was
perfect, not too hot and not too cold. Delighted, the hunter padded around
to the end and down the steps into the water, finding it deep enough that he
could actually swim in it without difficulty. Relaxing into the cradling
ripples, he lazed on the surface, idly drawing his arms to and fro to make
ripples splash against the red tiled sides and cast silvery candlelit
shimmers up the walls.
Someone had made an effort to
decorate the bathing rooms pleasingly. Frescos of dolphins adorned the
ceilings and bottom of the pool, while the walls were filled with brightly
coloured fanciful landscapes. Hot water bubbled from the mouth of a carved
stone dolphin at the far end of the pool, where it was linked by pipes to a
boiler system and a pleasing gurgle told of water splashing away through the
overflow outlets hidden among the tiles.
Although Iolaus hadn't said
anything to his friends, he was still getting cold chills every now and then
and the warm water felt wonderful. Floating lazily, he eased over to the
wall and settled onto the underwater stone seat, stretching his legs out
idly to let the undercurrents he had stirred up massage his thighs. Ruffling
up his hair, he settled back against the water warmed tiles and rested his
arms along the edge of the pool, letting his thoughts roam where they
pleased.
It was typical of Hercules and
Aethalides to get him out of the way and treat him as if his opinion didn't
count. No doubt they would preen and pose if they found the murderer. They
acted as if they were scared he might outdo them and find the killer before
they could. And wouldn't it annoy them if he did! There was Hercules being
the noble mystical warrior, the magnificent demi-god who could do anything.
And Aethalides the wise, silver tongued Herald; the perfect demi-god with
the magical touch and the ability to weave great spells…
Hah!
Iolaus knew them both better than that. Who did they think they were
anyway? Sending him out of their way like a damn slave, treating him like he
was nothing better than, than…
Iolaus scowled, furious with the
pair of them and angry with himself for thinking such bitter thoughts.
Even if they were true?
Iolaus' scowl deepened uncertainly.
He knew Hercules too well to think he would ever mean to be condescending
towards his friend - at least not deliberately. Iolaus knew too much about
him to let him get away with it. And Aethalides wasn't capable of being
patronising...
Why are you lying to yourself?
You’re mortal and they’re not. They think they're perfect. Now that they
have an audience to appreciate them they’re merely showing their true
colours. Don't you see? They're actually suspicious of you. They think you
must be the killer simply because you’re mortal. They don't know who the
killer is so they’re laying out a plan to blame you for it…
All this talk about the vase and
the knife being important. It's mere foolishness, mere distraction. A ploy
so that when they lay the blame at your feet no one will think to look
further. They’re both demi-gods. And demi-gods are never wrong….
Iolaus
started as water splashed in his face, shocked to realise he had almost
fallen asleep in the bath. His head felt full and foggy, muzzy with thoughts
that didn't feel like his.
So much for trust. So much for
friendship. So much for the Argonauts. Jason didn't want you. He wanted
Hercules the famous hero…
"No," Iolaus whispered, wishing he
didn't feel so unconnected to his own body somehow. Jason had sent an
invitation to both of them and it was Iolaus who carried the ram's head seal
ring of Corinth.
The little whisper in the back of
his mind stilled and Iolaus sighed, closing his eyes in weariness.
This is crazy. I don't know why
I'm thinking these things. Herc's risked his life for me…
To make himself look good, yes.
He grows tired of you. He doesn't need you any more. Neither of them do. You
need to find your own way, tread your own path of wealth alone…
Wealth? Where had that thought come
from? Iolaus had never bothered much about riches. He had enough for what he
needed. The land Skouros had given him made him secure and all the Argonauts
had done well out of the voyage to Colchis. Money would be useful if he
wanted to settled down, but he wasn't ready for that. There was still too
much to do and see.
Women then? Do you not yearn for
the perfect woman? The one who will tend you and love you and only you? Who
will do your bidding in all things? Who will obey you and only you…
That's a slave not a woman.
Iolaus sat up with a surge of water
and shook his head violently. He adored women. Mysterious creatures all who
aroused his senses and made him wonder at the way they thought and felt. The
few times he had ever thought about actually settling down he had imagined
his lady to be someone who would share his life and his bed, who would think
for herself and love him for who he was, not what he was.
You deserve more. You know
that…You'll never find her while they’re around. You need to get them out of
your way…kill them….
"No!" Iolaus yelped aloud. These
weren't his thoughts! He would never even dream of hurting his friends, let
alone kill them! Scared, he looked around him, staring at the huddled
shadows that seemed to heap up in the lonely corners like mounds of black
silk. Was it his imagination or were they moving?
Splashing across the pool, he
pulled himself out of the water and grabbed his towel, winding it around his
hips and feeling better for its forlorn protection as he looked around him
uneasily. Nothing had changed. The candles still glimmered and shone on the
water like moonlight, the flowers on the walls still seemed to dance in an
unfelt breeze as the reflected light off the ripples shimmered over them. He
could even smell a faint flowery perfume hanging seductively in the air…
So why did the shadows seem darker
in the corners? Why did they seem to thicken and ooze towards him across the
red tiled floor? Why did one particularly dark shadow near the door seem to
take on shape and substance, forming a figure….
Suddenly he knew that getting out
of the water was a mistake. It could get him now.
Why he did it Iolaus didn't know;
call it survival instinct, sheer panic, innate knowledge or even a sixth
sense….
Whatever it was, Iolaus ran as if
Cerebus himself was on his tail….
* * *
"Hercules, you worry too much,"
Aethalides grumbled as he followed the demi-god along the corridor. Having
finished protecting Flavius' body, they had paid a short visit to Pastius
and got him to lock the knife away in the Gatehouse vault for safekeeping.
As far as Pastius knew, no one had seen Flavius since the feast the night
before until his body was found. Now Hercules was determined to check up on
Iolaus. "What kind of trouble could Iolaus possibly get into taking a bath?"
Hercules raised an eyebrow at him.
"You’re kidding, right? Practically the first time you met him he was in
trouble in a bath house."
"Oh, yeah," the Herald mumbled
sheepishly. "I forgot. Is he making a habit of it then?"
"I hope not. But this whole thing
is making me nervous. Besides that thing clobbered him and I probably
shouldn't have let him go off on his own. I've got a bad feeling…."
Aethalides sighed and gave in. For
as long as he had known Hercules, the demi-god had been fretting over
someone; if not Iolaus then one of the other Argonauts. He seemed to have
taken it on himself to be responsible for the whole world and seemed
determined to become everyone's conscience.
"Aethalides…."
"Sorry. What did you say?"
"I said, which way is the
bathhouse?" Hercules repeated irritably.
"Oh, down here." Aethalides turned
down the corridor, embarrassed to have been caught out drifting. "I still
say you’re fretting….oofff…." The explosion of air was knocked out of
him as Iolaus slammed into him as he rounded the corner and knocked him
sprawling, bouncing off the Herald. Hercules caught the hunter before he hit
the flagstones on his face as he rebounded from the impact with Aethalides.
"You were saying?" Hercules said
dryly to Aethalides as the Herald lay wheezing for breath on the floor.
"Hercules!" Iolaus grabbed
his friend's arm with one hand and clutched at his towel with the other.
"It's after me!"
"What is?" Hercules gave him a
puzzled look.
"That!" Iolaus pointed
frantically back down the shadowy corridor.
"What?" Although, he peered
carefully into the darkness Hercules could see nothing.
"That!!!!" Iolaus repeated,
retreating behind the bigger man and jabbing a forceful finger at the
shadows.
"I don't….uh oh…" This time
Hercules saw it, an oozing shapeless something rippling across the floor in
slow waves that eddied and splashed against the walls. He took a step
forward, hooking a hand under Aethalides' arm and lifting him to his feet.
"You see that?"
The Herald nodded, still holding
his ribs.
"What is it?"
Aethalides gave him a slow look and
shrugged. "Ghost?" he managed.
"It talked to me!" Iolaus protested
as he knotted the towel securely over his hip. "Or something did. It wanted
me to…. to….never mind what it wanted! Do something!"
"Who? Us?" Aethalides asked
sardonically.
"You’re the magic user!"
"Herald," Aethalides corrected.
"Now is not the time to be
pedantic. That thing's dangerous."
"Oh, so now you admit it."
"I'm not saying it's the same thing
at all!" Iolaus blurted, but he sounded uncertain as he glanced towards the
shadows again. They had stopped pursuing him but lay quietly, like water
that had found its own level. It rippled, light for the torch sconces giving
its surface an inviting silvery shimmer that seemed to offer a moonlight
swim. Without thinking, he took a step towards it, half hearing the wordless
whisper in his mind, crooning a seductive invitation…
Hercules and Aethalides
instinctively grabbed an arm each as Iolaus' blue eyes glazed over and he
started to walk towards the shadows.
"This is not good," Hercules
worried when calling his friend brought no reaction.
"No. Any ideas?"
"Me?"
"You’re the man with the plan."
"Not this time. You’re the magic
user."
"Like I told Iolaus…."
Hercules grunted, pushed Aethalides'
hand aside and pulled Iolaus over his shoulder. The hunter hung limply, then
his head lifted as he looked towards the shadows. "Let's go then."
"Go?" Aethalides gave him a
startled look.
"You got a better idea?"
"Well, no…."
"Come on then." Hercules took a
determined step back up the corridor. Iolaus promptly started to struggle
and the shadows started to flow, boiling up the corridor after them, rising
and massing into a man like shape.
"Let me go!" the hunter cried out.
"It's calling me. Can't you hear? Put me down."
Aethalides took an instinctive step
to guard Hercules' back and flung up his arms, his fingers hooking into the
symbols as the words of power rose unbidden to his lips. Black tendrils
lashed out, sparking like ebony flames against the invisible wall that
seemed to have sprung up between it and its prey. Shadows heaped up against
the shield, seeming to bow it outwards under their weight. Then abruptly
they collapsed, flowing like water into puddles on the floor that evaporated
into nothingness like mist on a warm morning.
Iolaus slumped over Hercules'
shoulder with a moan, shaking his head. Glancing at Aethalides, Hercules
lowered him back to his own two feet and steadied him, watching his eyes
anxiously until Iolaus focused on him.
"What happened?" the hunter
slurred, clutching at his head as he trembled in Hercules' grip.
"You tell us," Aethalides pressed.
"Oh, don't start that again!"
Iolaus complained.
Hercules shot a glare at the Herald
too. "I thought you didn't know any magic?" he growled sarcastically.
"A simple ward," Aethalides
muttered in chagrin.
"Why didn't you use it straight
away? You always wait until it's almost too late," Hercules said angrily.
Iolaus nodded groggily, massaging
his temples. "Show off….glory hunter…" he mumbled, swaying into Hercules'
hasty grab of support.
"Look, I wasn't sure what effect it
would have. After what happened with the knife I had to be careful,"
Aethalides protested. "I didn't think it was necessary… It wasn't really
doing anything…"
"Apart from attacking Iolaus! Come
on, Iolaus, you need to get some clothes on before you freeze." Hercules
turned his back on the Herald, hustling Iolaus off down the corridor and
away from the bathhouse.
"I'll stay here and make sure it's
gone then, shall I?" Aethalides called after them forlornly.
"Do what you want," Hercules called
back, then turned the corner and was gone.
Aethalides gazed after them, both
annoyed and chagrined by their lack of understanding. It wasn't what he
expected from either of them. First all of Iolaus had started to behave
strangely and now Hercules…Maybe Hercules was only reacting out of worry
over Iolaus; he could be pretty single minded when it came to his best
friend's safety, but Aethalides suddenly found himself doubting it. With two
murders; one of them by something unknown, there could be more going on than
any of them realised.
With a final glance down the
corridor towards the bath house, Aethalides decided against going to
investigate further no his own. Lifting his hands, he sketched symbols in
the air, seeing them glow in his mind's eye as he raised a barrier across
the corridor that would prevent any mortal from crossing it. Iolaus would
not be able to return here, even if he was called. Nor would anything else
be able to cross it. Hopefully, he had sealed whatever it was in this annex
but he had an uneasy feeling that he hadn't.
* * *
"Herc, don't keep nagging me. I
don't remember!" Iolaus complained impatiently as they crossed the main hall
on the way to the stairs and their suite.
"You ran way from it…"
"Yes, I told you. I saw something
in the bathhouse and I thought it was dangerous. So I ran away." Iolaus was
not happy about that. It didn't fit with his self-image. He wasn't used to
running away from anything. Let alone some kind of ghost! Ghosts couldn't
hurt him. They had no flesh or blood to hurt him with. He knew that.
"Why?" Hercules pressed.
"I told you, I thought it was
dangerous."
"That wouldn't usually make you run
away," Hercules pointed out, coming to close to Iolaus' own thoughts for
comfort. "How did you know it was dangerous? And what did you mean when you
said you’d talked to it?"
"I said that? What was I thinking?"
"I don't know. That's the point,"
Hercules muttered, frustrated.
Iolaus chewed his lip and hugged
his arms around himself, realising how cold he was and starting to shiver in
the cool air of the hall. "It, it said that you and Aethalides don't need
me," he said uncomfortably. "That you want the glory of finding the murderer
and you think I'll get in your way and find him first…"
"You know that's a lie!" Hercules
protested indignantly then gave Iolaus an anxious look. "Don't you?"
Gazing up at him, Iolaus read the
worry in his blue eyes and smiled faintly. "Yeah, Herc, I know. You never
think of glory…."
"Iolaus, you…." Hercules
paused and took a deep breath. "You know I need you. You’re my best friend.
You’re not going to let some bad tempered ghost ruin that, are you? I need
you!"
This time Iolaus' smile held
genuine warmth, but before he could say anything the patter of applause
interrupted them.
"Oh, very touching," Orides
observed sarcastically. "But really, must you carry out your assignations
here in front of everyone? And wearing nothing but a towel? Get a
room!"
Iolaus glanced down and blushed,
but he held his ground. Hercules stepped in front of his partner,
automatically blocking him from the view of the delegates. The door to the
discussion room had been opened and the ambassadors had started to emerge in
time to hear Hercules' protests.
Iocastus was looking from one to
the other of them, adding two and two and getting five from the wounded
looks he gave Hercules.
Dulcina had a quizzing glass out
and was inspecting Iolaus as thoroughly as she could by craning for a view
around Hercules. On the other side, Astrid was licking her lips and looking
thoughtful as she eyed up the blond hunter. Not even Hercules was big enough
to block the view of both of them.
"It isn't what you think," Hercules
blurted
"It never is," Orides sniffed
disdainfully. "You Thebans are all the same! Sex mad!"
"Here, allow me to save your
blushes, young man," Iocastus said abruptly as he swept off the deep
burgundy cloak he was wearing and stalked briskly past Hercules to wrap it
around Iolaus before the startled hunter could protest.
"I was taking a bath," Iolaus
explained feebly, murmuring his embarrassed thanks to the Parthian
Ambassador.
"Without your clothes?" Mollius
exclaimed, clearly shocked by this lack of propriety. "And in front of the
ladies too!"
"Well, I would hardly keep them on,
would I?" Iolaus shot back, feeling safer and warmer under the cloak as he
hugged it around himself.
Personally, Hercules figured Iolaus
had more to worry about from the way Iocastus was looking at him than
anything the women might be thinking. Iocastus had a twisted expression on
his face that was half way between jealousy and hunger.
"Really, I don't mind," Astrid
purred. "He's adequately covered….damn it…"
"Quite," Dulcina murmured absently.
Iolaus shot a hunted look at them
and gathered up the cloak. "If you'll excuse me, I’ll go and get dressed,"
he mumbled.
"Would you care for some help?"
Iocastus murmured, leaning over him with a greedy look in his eyes. "You
look a little…shaken. Has something disturbed you?"
"I can manage," Iolaus assured him,
backing away before he made a quick dart for the stairs.
Hercules frowned suspiciously at
the Parthian, wondering why he had noticed Iolaus was shaken when the others
hadn't. His glare however was mistaken and drew a delighted smile from the
Ambassador.
"Jealous?" Iocastus purred the
whisper at him as he passed, his fingertips drifting across Hercules' rump
Hercules blushed and floundered.
"How did the discussions go?" he blurted desperately. "All settled?"
"No. We have decided to break for
lunch," Orides said icily. "Will you and your…colleagues join us afterwards
perhaps?"
"We've been a little busy,"
Hercules mumbled. "There's been another…murder."
"What?" Orides roared above the
outbreak of shocked exclamations. "How could you allow this to happen?"
"I didn’t," Hercules growled back.
"Something attacked and killed one of the servants."
"Something? Not someone?"
Orides said sharply.
"Something," Hercules confirmed,
hesitated and then decided on the truth as he knew it. "We think that Neman
had the essence of a Lamia trapped in that vase of his. When he was killed
it was released and it's now loose in the Gatehouse. That's what killed the
servant and it may kill again. Iolaus, Aethalides and I saw something in the
bath house." There was a thud as Mollius keeled over in a faint, sliding
down the wall into an untidy heap on the floor. Orides looked at him in
disgust as Dulcina knelt uncertainly beside him and patted his face.
Iocastus paled, looking as if he too might faint as he looked blankly around
him.
"This is your fault," Astrid
exclaimed, turning on Orides. "You brought him here. Him and his damn vase.
It was your idea for him to come!"
"Don't be ridiculous, woman!"
Orides snapped. "I don't know anything about a Lamia! Whoever killed Neman
is responsible for this!"
"Who was killed?" Dulcina asked
from where she knelt.
"His name was Flavius," Hercules
answered. It was an uncomfortable feeling to be watching them for their
reactions as if he was watching actors in a play.
Orides glared at him. "A servant
you said? How was he killed?"
"The life was sucked out of him."
"By this Lamia spirit?"
"That's how it looks."
"And what are you going to do about
it?"
Hercules gritted his teeth. He
wanted to punch Orides out for constantly backing him into a corner. "I
don't know," he grated.
Orides scowled. "Of course, I don’t
know what else I expected," he said irritably and shot a glare at Mollius as
the man moaned. "Someone throw a bucket of water over him," he snapped.
"Don't be so cruel!" Iocastus said
sharply. "He was shocked…"
"Weren't we all," Astrid said
primly. She was still watching Orides, her doubts showing in her amber eyes.
From the corner of his eye,
Hercules saw Aethalides come into the hall with Pastius. Assessing the
situation at a glance the Herald stalked over to help. "Is there a problem,
Ambassadors?" he asked smoothly.
"First of all there's a murder
which you failed to prevent, now this Theban tells us there's not only been
a second killing but there's a Lamia loose!" Orides snarled.
"The essence of a Lamia," Hercules
corrected determinedly.
Aethalides raised a copper eyebrow
at him. "Well, he's correct. There is a Lamia spirit loose and we will track
it down. But since there's nothing we can do and our good host is waiting
lunch for us, why don't we all go in and eat?"
There was much muttering and
arguing, but one by one the delegates followed Pastius off to the dining
room with Mollius leaning on Iocastus' arm. Orides was the last to go and he
had the last word as well. "I am holding you responsible for this,." He told
Hercules and Aethalides. "I expect you and that blond to find Neman's killer
and this Lamia immediately or I will be complaining to King Jason
personally."
"Jason would never let you in the
palace," Aethalides hissed at his back as the Ethican stalked off to lunch.
He turned back to Hercules as he stood with folded arms and a wooden
expression.
"I suppose you think I shouldn't
have told them," Hercules rumbled.
"I wasn't going to say that. Only
that you might have chosen a better time."
"They had to be warned to be
careful."
"Yeah, I know. Where's Iolaus?"
"He went to get changed. Orides was
making snide remarks and Iocastus was…." Hercules shrugged and flushed.
"Oh, right," Aethalides hesitated,
then took a deep breath. "Hercules, you’re right. I should have been quicker
to use magic. I don't know why I didn't. I'm sorry. I put us in danger."
Hercules eyed him and nodded. "I
shouldn't have yelled at you. I don't know why I did."
"It could be the Lamia…"
"Or the fact that we’re trapped in
here making us all jumpy? At least it's trapped now…"
"Um…."
"Um?" Hercules gave him a wary
look.
Aethalides shrugged helplessly.
"It's …gone…I could feel it slip away….You don't think I’d have left it if
it was still there, do you?"
"Oh great."
"It isn't my fault. I don't have
the power to control it."
Hercules gave him an irritated look
and then shook his head. "No, no, you don't. It isn't your fault. Look, you
go watch our guests. I’ll get Iolaus and meet you for lunch." Hercules
sighed. "I guess Orides had to be right about one thing."
"What's that?" the Herald said
warily.
"We are supposed to be here to
negotiate on Jason's behalf. Maybe we should at least show up."
* * *
Lunch was delicious. Pastius had
done them proud, completing the meal with a marvellous selection of
desserts; from baklava to birds made from spun sugar. After the meal, the
delegates returned once more to the negotiations, this time joined by
Hercules, Iolaus and Aethalides. Iolaus had changed into a deep red tunic
with fanciful black embroidery that matched the design on his black
breeches. Hercules noted irritably that his tunic was long enough to
cover the essentials, but didn't comment. Iolaus would probably tease him,
assuming he actually heard Hercules say anything. The hunter was definitely
not on the same plane as anyone else as he sat relaxed at the end of the
table with his blue eyes focused on nothing in particular. He was obviously
bored out of his mind by the constant arguments of the delegates.
At least they only had to deal with
the main core of the delegates, Hercules reflected as he absently cracked a
handful of nuts and ignored the longing looks Iocastus gave him. The other
guests of the Gatehouse seemed to be lackies and hangers on, there only to
make the Ambassadors look good by numbers and wealthy display.
Dulcina's fingers drummed
impatiently on the table. "I would have thought the problem was obvious,"
she exclaimed irritably. "Everyone knows that Cochea exports the best furs
in Greece. I refuse to accept that the sudden market glut could be caused by
anything other than furs taken from Cochean lands."
"Are you implying that our hunters
are crossing into Cochea to hunt?" Mollius snapped icily.
"Yes," Dulcina replied curtly.
"It's a well known fact that Snow Hydras are only found on our side of the
mountains where the snow levels are at their highest."
"They’ve been crossing into Cyrene
all winter," Mollius said indignantly.
"Nonsense."
"Are you calling me a liar?"
Dulcina hesitated. "Of course not,
Ambassador. You obviously know very little about hunting so…"
"As much as you do," Mollius shot
back. "Snow Hydras are on our side of the mountain. What are we supposed to
do? Let them roam free, killing our animals and our people? The treaty
permits us to kill strays."
"Strays!" Dulcina sat forward in
outrage. "More than a few strays are involved! We've seen the pelts!"
"Ah, so you admit you have spies in
Cyrene!" Mollius leaned forward, meeting her glare with one of his own.
"If I might say something?"
Aethalides murmured hastily, fearing that they might actually come to
blows.
"If you must," Orides sighed. He
looked and sounded as bored as Iolaus.
"Surely our main concern should be
the border raids," the Herald said carefully.
Mollius sniffed. "I refuse to
ignore an insult…."
"I am sure the border raids are
caused by a rogue warband," Astrid commented.
"And I refuse to ignore clear
violations of border treaties," Dulcina growled. "Our treaty specifically
mentions that no hunting it to be carried out across the border. Snow Hydras
are rare enough as it is…."
"Speaking as hunter," Iolaus spoke
up, startling them all into looking at him. "This has been a long hard
winter in Cochea. Snow Hydras stick to the peaks, yes, but they’re not
entirely stupid. If I was hunting them, I'd look on the Cyrene side of the
mountains where the foraging for them would be better." He looked casually
from Dulcina to Mollius and back again. "If I was you Madam Ambassador, I
would be asking your hunters and trappers where they think their prey
is to be found. I might also wonder which side of the border they’re hunting
too."
There was a long silence. Mollius
looked triumphant and Dulcina was flushing, clearly angry but considering
Iolaus' comments. Orides was watching the blond warrior thoughtfully; a
faint hint of approval in his eyes.
Hercules smiled to himself. Too
many people underestimated his friend and he enjoyed seeing Iolaus put one
over on them. "When the weather improves, they'll move back to the Cochea
side of the mountain," he agreed.
"Back to their home territories,"
Iolaus nodded.
"You've hunted them then, have
you?" Orides asked curiously. "I'm a bit of a hunter myself. Never gone
after a Snow Hydra though."
Iolaus flicked a quick look at
Hercules. "You could say we've tackled a Hydra or two along the way, yes,"
Hercules said dryly. "It's hardly an honour I’d fight over. The fewer of the
damn things there are, the better if you ask me."
"They’re not as sneaky as Sand
Sharks though. And Sand Sharks hunt in packs," Iolaus added.
"Always fancied having a go for a
Sand Shark," Orides mused.
"Are we here to discuss hunting or
peace treaties?" Iocastus demanded primly.
"Not a hunting man, hmmh?" Orides
asked, looking down his nose at him.
"I abhor violence," Iocastus
sniffed.
"I certainly don't see the point of
hunting some poor hapless animal," Astrid sniffed.
"I'd hardly call a Snow Hydra
harmless," Mollius muttered.
"Trophies, my dear, Astrid.
Trophies," Orides told her.
"And you should know about those,"
Dulcina got in a dig at her rival the Caspian. "How many notches on your
bedpost are there these days?"
Astrid's lips thinned. "I was
talking about hunting," she said primly.
"So was I," Dulcina shot back.
"Ambassadors, please!" Aethalides
yelped. He could see his peace talks degenerating rapidly into a war. "Let
us concentrate on the border negotiations. Perhaps if I set out again
the initial problems…."
Hercules sighed and folded his
arms, settling back in his seat and exchanging a bored glance with Iolaus.
There was too much talk and not enough action for his tastes. The delegates
all seemed to be chasing each other in circles, deciding nothing as they
indulged in their petty bickering. He could see no point in saying anything
until they stopped backstabbing and got down to an actual discussion over
the border treaties. Sooner or later someone would have to get to the point
even if Aethalides had to drag them back to it kicking and screaming all the
way.
* * *
"I swear Herc, ten more minutes of
that lot babbling and I’d have stabbed someone myself!" Iolaus exclaimed as
he arched his back, stretching every muscle and limb like a cat. Aethalides
had finally called a halt to the discussions for the day before the
Ambassadors came to blows and Hercules and his partner had seized their
chance to escape to the peace and quiet of their suite.
"They were…bickering a lot,"
Hercules admitted as he sprawled gratefully on his back on his bed, his arms
folded behind his head. Eager to escape the confines of tight fabric, he had
stripped his tunic off and the candlelight gleamed on the muscles of his
chest.
"You mean arguing. And they weren't
achieving anything," Iolaus snorted, plumping down on the foot of the bed.
"I think that most of the real
discussions go on over dinner and drinks," Hercules said slowly. "It's only
when they all sit down together that they fight each other. Kind of for the
look of the thing, I guess. Did you notice when Aethalides brought up the
mutual trade agreement Jason suggested they pounced on it?"
"Like a pack of starving Hydras and
chewed it, yeah…"
"But the suggestions they made…"
"Screamed…"
"Okay, screamed were valid ones.
They'll go away and think about it and come back with answers," Hercules
insisted. "They’re good, Iolaus, very good. I don't think Jason has much to
worry about. Peace makes them all rich. They'll settle the border skirmishes
between them."
"Astrid was serious about that
rogue warband she mentioned."
Hercules inclined his head. "Yeah.
Caspia is a fairly small city-state. It doesn't have a huge army. I think
I’ll suggest Corinth offers to help them out with a few men. Jason needs
something for his army to do. In return, Caspia can supply Corinth with some
of that surplus grain Astrid mentioned." Hercules paused, giving his friend
a suspicious look. "What are you grinning at?"
"Us," Iolaus answered in amusement.
"Fine foot loose and fancy free heroes we're turning out to be. Aren't we
doing exactly what you said the Ambassadors are doing? Discussing things in
private like good little diplomats?"
Hercules opened his mouth to deny
it and then chuckled ruefully, realising Iolaus was right. "Talking to you
always makes things clearer," he told him.
"That's because I'm a genius,"
Iolaus said smugly, slapping Hercules' ankle. "I'm going to turn in. Good
night, Herc."
"Good night, Iolaus," Hercules
smiled and stretched lazily as Iolaus padded off to his own room. He hoped
he was right about the Ambassadors. Peace was good for everyone and Jason
would be pleased if the border disputes could be settled without Corinth
having to bring down a heavy hand on its neighbours. Hercules only wished
finding who and what had killed Neman and Flavius could be so easy.
* * *
Iolaus remembered the door. How he
had come to be standing before it again, he didn't know. But he remembered
it and was reluctant to open it. Gathering his courage, he started to back
away then turned, but behind him the corridor was a menacing tunnel of
shadowed gloom in which a few sparse candles gleamed like jagged teeth of
light.
The door swung open almost
silently, releasing a puff of rose scented air into the corridor.
Unwillingly, he turned back to it, drawn inside by the promise of light.
She was waiting for him, clad now
in a deep rose pink chiton with necklaces and bracelets of delicate gold and
rose quartz. The room had changed; now the floor was covered in silvery grey
and glossy black furs. In the middle of the floor was a raised, circular bed
covered with sheets of black watered silk that seemed to ripple as the soft
golden candle light shone over it.
"Come to me," she whispered,
holding out a slender hand to him. Her eyes glowed with inner fire, luring
him into their green gold shimmer.
Somehow, Iolaus stood his ground,
feeling a tremor of trepidation run through him. "Who are you?" he blurted.
"You know who I am," she purred,
lowering her hand with a faint look disappointment.
"All right then, what are
you?" Iolaus pressed stubbornly.
"Everything you want me to be." She
let her fingers drift to the single golden brooch at her shoulder, releasing
it with the flick of a rose pink nail. The chiton slipped from her
shoulders, slithering over her smoothed golden shoulders and down to her
waist, clinging momentarily to her hips in seductive allure before it
drifted like feathers to the floor to pool around her bare feet.
"Come to me," she repeated. "I
yearn for you. I long for your touch…" This time she held out both hands to
him, her eyes shining with desire.
Iolaus almost took a step towards
her, then he shook his head and felt his hair tickling his bare shoulders.
Startled he looked down, somehow unsurprised to find himself dressed simply
in a pleated white kilt. A belt of gold circled his waist that was studied
with polished cabochons of sapphire and amethyst. A matching collar wrapped
his throat and bracers completed the set.
"This isn't real," he protested,
tugging at a bracer and finding it all but welded to his skin.
"It can be," she purred, sashaying
towards him. "I can give you anything you desire. Wealth, women, fame…" Her
voice dropped huskily became even more sensual and provocative. "Love…."
Iolaus lifted his head and looked
at her as she came to him, sinking into the ocean depths of her eyes. It
would be so easy to fall into those eyes, to let himself be washed away by
the sensuous tides of her existence….
"Touch me, come to me…." Her hands
reached out, hovering over his chest and from somewhere Iolaus found the
strength to step back and avoid her touch. The door behind him had
disappeared and he sidled along the wall, staying out of her reach as she
glided after him.
"You still haven't told me your
name," he said nervously.
"Tell me yours," she bargained.
Iolaus came to a halt, cornered by
the bed. He flashed a quick look round, estimating his chances of making a
quick lunge across the bed to escape. She was took quick for him, closing in
swiftly so that she stood close against him, her nearness mesmerising him.
She seemed to be growing more beautiful, her skin taking on a lustre that
made him yearn to touch her. "What do you want from me?" he forced out, his
voice thick with the effort to resist her.
"What does it matter?" she said
softly as she cupped his hands to his jaw and drew him towards her soft
raspberry lips.
"It matters!" Iolaus jerked his
head away, his senses spinning with confusion. All his masculine instincts
urged him to succumb to her loveliness, to let her charms hold sway and
allow himself to give in to her…
"I can give you eternity," she
whispered as her lips brushed against his jaw like velvet. "The whole of
eternity to do as you please. You could rule the world. Come, be my love…"
"I don't know you," Iolaus
protested as her fingers traced the edge of his belt, tugging the fabric up
his thigh.
"But you can. Give me your name,
share yourself with me…"
"I don't want to know you,"
Iolaus forced out and shoved her away from him. She fell backwards onto the
bed, laughing as he staggered drunkenly, struggling to get to the door and
feeling as if he waded through waist deep mud.
"Oh no, my warrior, you cannot
leave me," she told him as he fell his knees, his senses thudding and
reeling. He clawed at the bed, pulling himself up to his feet and taking a
shaky but determined step towards the door. She came to him with shocking
speed, yanking him backward onto the mattress and pinning him there. She
perched astride his hips, her eyes sharp as a bird's as she studied him.
"You are stronger than I thought," she murmured as her nail tips traced
strange symbols on his bare chest.
Her touch burned him, branding him.
"Get off me!" Iolaus struggled, twisted under her as he fought to throw her
off. For a slender woman she was incredibly heavy, crushing him into the
mattress.
"But I will possess you," she
decided, her nails raking his skin. With a blur of movement, her long
fingered hand closed on his throat and squeezed tight, half choking him as
she turned his head to one side.
"No," Iolaus protested in horror as
her lips folded back from her mouth, displaying long needle fine teeth. He
shook his head wildly, frantic to escape as she leaned closer to him, her
dark hair falling like a curtain around him and shutting out the light as
her fangs sank slowly an painfully into his throat…
* * *
"Aethalides! Do something! He's
choking!" Hercules yelled in terror at the Herald. The demi-god had been
roused when he heard Iolaus cry out; a sound half pain, half fear. Fearing
that the killer was attacking his friend, Hercules had raced to the rescue
only to find Iolaus twisting and feverish among his sheets but with no sign
of any physical attacker. He had wasted a few moments attempting to calm
and wake his friend without success, feeling Iolaus growing hotter under his
hands. Alarmed, Hercules had rung for a servant and sent the sleepy eyed
young man who appeared racing for the Herald.
Now Aethalides leaned over the bed,
his slender hands rapidly examining the feverish hunter. "He's not choking,"
he said firmly.
"He sounds like he is."
"I know how he sounds but he
isn't," Aethalides said firmly. "This is some kind of magic spell…Hush,
Iolaus….lie still…."
Hercules shot a wary look around
him, half expecting to see some monster looming up out of the shadows. "Then
break it," he demanded urgently.
Aethalides ran one hand through his
copper hair and stepped back. "I wish I knew how," he muttered grimly.
Hercules grabbed him, his fingers
digging cruelly into the Herald's arm. "There has to be something
you can do," he insisted.
Aethalides tugged at his arm,
giving him a pointed look. Meeting the worry in Hercules' blue eyes though
he could remember all too clearly Hercules' pain when they thought they had
lost Iolaus to the Elysian Fields because of the venom of the Chaos spider.
Aethalides knew that Hercules would never forget that emotional agony and
despair and would do anything to avoid facing it again. The demi-god wasn't
quite rational on the subject of Iolaus' life. He would have fought Hades
himself to save him. "Please, Aethalides," Hercules begged, self
consciously releasing his grip.
Aethalides nodded and turned away,
chewing his lower lip as he reached for the magic kit that was never far
from his side while he was at the Gatehouse. He had felt the forces swirling
around him the moment he entered its doors and was reluctant to challenge
whatever sentience the building had achieved with his own small magics. He
had the feeling that if he did something that the Gatehouse considered a
threat in any way, it would cost him dearly. He wouldn't put it past the
Gatehouse to accidentally drop a roof beam on him.
But there was the look of
desperation in Hercules' blue eyes…
And there was Iolaus tossing and
moaning in restless fever on the bed, fighting some invisible presence
pressing down over him.
They were both his friends and he
owed them more than words would ever say….
Aethalides frowned, his curiosity
captured as he watched the movements of Iolaus' hands as he fought the air,
wrestling with something in his dreams. He glanced at Hercules, seeing that
his fellow demi-god had also caught the movements.
Hercules eased closer to the bed,
stretching out his own hands to skim through the air above his friend's
fever wracked body. Static crackled where his hands passed, making the hairs
on his arms stand up on end. He flinched, feeling it bite and crackle at his
fingers, but there seemed to be a shape forming from the air under his
touch; liquid smooth, as if water had taken shape…
Hercules jerked suddenly and
dropped to his knees, his mouth opening in a gasp of astonishment and mild
pain and his eyes rounding and dilating blackly as the power flowed out of
him, making his hair rise and crackle like a lion's mane around his head.
Aethalides stared in dismay and
tipped his magic kit upside down on the floor, groping frantically through
the scattered contents.
"Hurry….." Hercules rolled
his eyes towards him, sagging against the side of the bed as his hands
remained trapped within a shimmering nimbus of energy that linked him to
Iolaus and the squirming something in the air above them both.
Grabbing a clay pot of ointment,
Aethalides thrust his fingers into it, rubbing it urgently over his hands
then snatched at another pot, emptying several twists of dried herbs into it
and topping it up with salt. Turning back to the bed, he cupped the pot in
both hands and lifted it high.
"Hecate, Hecate, oh hear me,
mistress of the night, mistress of the creatures that walk in darkness, hear
me, your supplicant! Rid us of this evil that stalks our souls!" Aethalides
felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as the Gatehouse stirred
around him. He felt it somehow focus on him, then a familiar tingle
swept through him and he lowered the pot, taking a pinch of the powdery
leaves within and scattering them over Hercules' bowed head as the demi-god
rested his forehead weakly against the bed. The rest he scattered over
Iolaus, chanting softly, "I command thee to show yourself, evil one…"
The herbs sizzled in the air,
burning as they fell, turning to dust before they could touch Iolaus'
perspiring body. In front of Aethalides' eyes the shadowy shape he had half
seen, half sensed took form; a willowy, curved body of solidified air that
was impossibly slender and subtly wrong to the eye of the beholder. It
shimmered and quivered under the rain of herbs, fighting not to manifest as
Aethalides called on it.
"In the name of Hecate I banish
thee, in the name of Hecate I command you begone…."
It screamed, a shrill glass
cracking sound that made Aethalides gasp in pain and jerk away as the
creature manifested. For a split second it was there on the bed;
translucent, yet black as deep water, solid as a shadow. It reared up,
female in form but somehow not. Its face was impossible to focus on, but
still Aethalides knew it was beautiful. Dark hair streamed around it like
seaweed in a current. Then it screamed in rage, throwing open a mouth that
was full of fangs and destroying the illusion of beauty as a cold wind swept
through the room, tearing the creature to shreds with its icy teeth as the
spell arrived. Scraps of shadow evaporated on the wind, blowing away into
nothing.
Aethalides stumbled back, clinging
to the end of the bed as the glacial wind took his breath away. He felt
drained, weak as if he hadn't eaten in too long. His senses swam and
distantly he felt the anger of the Gatehouse, rumbling like the hooves of
the horses of Hades on a far off plain.
It was a long time before he could
move, shakily releasing his grip on the bed to look around him. Hercules was
lying on the floor, curled into a ball beside the bed. Iolaus was lying
sprawled on his back among the sheets twisted around his bare hips.
Perspiration glinted in gold drops on his skin where the candlelight touched
him. But he was lying quiet and his breathing was slow and even as if he
slept.
Aethalides forced himself to circle
the bed and lean over Hercules, touching the demi-god's bare shoulder and
giving him a cautious shake. He straightened up hastily, feeling his own
balance waver. Hercules moaned and stirred, lifting his head slowly. His
eyes were still dilated and glazed and he tilted his head as if having
difficulty in focusing on the Herald. "What? Who…?"
"Me," Aethalides told him,
surprised by how thick his voice sounded. He didn't have the energy to say
more.
"Iolaus…" Hercules turned from the
Herald, pushing up on his knees to flop against the edge of the bed and peer
at his friend. He squinted at the hunter, watching him breath. "What?" he
repeated at last, looking up at Aethalides as the Herald slumped into a
chair beside the bed.
"I drove it off….I think."
Aethalides still wasn't quite sure what had happened. He had felt the magic
stir, yes. He had distracted whatever it was from its attack, yes. But he
wasn't sure he had driven it away.
Hercules slumped, resting his head
on the bed covers. "So tired…." He mumbled.
"Yes…." Aethalides agreed with him.
"It drained us…" Reaching out, he touched Iolaus' shoulder, feeling his skin
icy under his fingertips. "He's cold now…"
"Mmmh." Hercules reached out and
caught at Iolaus' wrist, tugging at him. "C'mon, wake up…Iolaus!"
Iolaus twitched and stirred,
opening glazed eyes. He looked at Hercules without recognition for a long
moment, his eyes drifting past him to Aethalides. "Was asleep…What…is it?"
he mumbled wearily.
"Don't ask…move over…." Hercules
crawled onto the bed with him, flopping down beside the hunter. "Warm…"
Iolaus whispered and rolled over to burrow against the bigger man. Hercules
grunted, folding his arms around him and resting his chin on top of Iolaus'
golden haired head.
"Ahhh…." Aethalides murmured
mockingly.
"Don't…" Hercules rumbled in
warning as Iolaus' breathing evened quickly out into the quiet rhythms of
exhausted sleep. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open and
focused.
Aethalides frowned. "It was the
Lamia…" he warned, feeling the weariness creep up on him too. Hercules
didn't answer; he was already asleep like Iolaus. "And then there was one,"
the Herald groaned, realising he had been left on guard. Forcing himself out
of the chair, he rummaged through the scattered contents of his magic kit
and found a paper twist of herbs, then mixed them into a goblet of wine from
the three-quarters full decanter that had been left for the hunter.
Sipping the restorative as he
returned to his chair and his vigil, Aethalides could feel his senses
clearing and his strength returning. He would give Hercules some of the
herbs when he woke up; knowing his strength and stamina it probably wouldn't
be long. Iolaus, mortal and therefore far more vulnerable and susceptible to
the Lamia, would probably sleep straight through. But for now, Aethalides
wanted to be alert and on guard against the creature should it decide to
return to its prey. He could only hope its hunger had been sated for a
while. He didn't think he could fend it off again. And if it chose to feed
off Iolaus again, the hunter wouldn't survive for long.
* * *
Baffled, Iolaus looked from one to
the other of his companions, puzzled as to why they both looked as if they'd
been wrung out to dry. "I don't remember any of this," he said doubtfully as
he chewed a fresh bread roll spread liberally with honey. They were alone in
the dining room the following morning, waiting for the delegates to stir
themselves from their beds. Aethalides had been describing what had happened
during the night, much to Iolaus' wide-eyed disbelief. The hunter had roused
at sunrise; wide-awake if not quite his usual bouncy self. Finding Hercules
in his bed hadn't exactly put him in a good mood. Being promptly shoved out
of bed by the highly indignant warrior before he had a chance to wake up
hadn't put Hercules in a very good one either and Aethalides' laughter
hadn't helped. All in all they were all feeling somewhat disgruntled and
sleep deprived.
"You wouldn't," Hercules muttered,
struggling to stay awake long enough to drink the herbal restorative
Aethalides had given him. He suspected the Herald had deliberately put a
little something extra in it to make it taste foul. Either that or something
had slept in his mouth.
"Are you sure you sure you’re not
making it up?" Iolaus wondered, looking warily from one to the other of
them.
Aethalides gave them both a red
eyed look. "I remember it," he grumbled. "I had to stay awake and guard the
pair of you." He gave Hercules a pointed look for good measure.
Iolaus frowned, taking a sip of his
well-watered wine. "All right. So you think something attacked me?" he said
slowly.
"We know something attacked you.
The question is what," Hercules retorted grimly.
"That was going to be my next
question," Iolaus admitted.
"Why is a better one," Aethalides
corrected acidly. "Obviously it was the Lamia."
"Why obviously?" Hercules wanted to
know as he gnawed on a roll.
"Can you think of anything else in
this place that would want Iolaus for supper?"
"Iocastus?" Hercules suggested
dryly.
"Breakfast maybe, or as dessert. He
wants you for supper," Aethalides said slyly. Hercules glared at him,
a slow blush rising like sunrise to colour his face.
Iolaus sighed, taking another roll
from the basket. Sooner or later they would get back to him. "All I had was
a bad dream," he commented as he piled bacon into his roll. "I've had a lot
of them since I've been here…" He paused thoughtfully and half-shrugged.
"Some of them when I've been awake…"
"That isn't funny," Hercules
scolded him.
"Who was being funny?" Iolaus gave
him a cool look. "I feel like I'm being watched all the time."
Aethalides frowned. With the
Gatehouse, that was entirely possible. Iolaus was one of those rare mortals
that seemed to have a genuine sixth sense, which suggested there was
probably a randy demi-god somewhere in his bloodline. "Something snacked on
you and Hercules last night," he said firmly.
"I feel okay," Iolaus protested,
self consciously putting his fingers up to touch his throat. He had a
feeling that it should be sore, but wasn't. "A little tired maybe, but…" He
shrugged again.
"Interesting," Aethalides murmured.
"That's not what I'd call it,"
Hercules grumbled. "I feel like I went several rounds with a Hydra….and
lost."
"Maybe that's why," Aethalides said
thoughtfully. He glanced at Iolaus. Although the hunter looked a little
paler than normal, it was as if he had merely slept badly. He was nowhere
near as exhausted as Hercules looked. "Iolaus was fighting it. When you
interfered…." Hercules glared at him but the Herald pressed on determinedly,
"…perhaps it decided to feed off you and it transferred some of that energy
to Iolaus. According to the legend that's how it's supposed to sustain and
prolong its master's life; like a symbiant. It feeds the master that
protects it." Iolaus' blue eyes boring into him in alarm brought the Herald
to a halt.
"No one's suggesting that you’re
willing," Hercules said quickly, reading his partner's expression. Iolaus
turned his gaze on him and he didn't look reassured. "You don't have a
choice in it. It's picked you."
"Yes…." Aethalides said very, very
slowly.
Iolaus' eyes swivelled back to the
Herald. "So I'm supposed to put up with this thing killing people on my
behalf? This is supposed to please me?"
"We'll find a way to stop it,"
Hercules promised, putting his hand on the hunter's shoulder.
"How?" Iolaus demanded bluntly.
"You haven't even found out who killed Neman yet."
Hercules gave him a hurt look for
that and after a moment, Iolaus turned away and ducked his head in chagrin.
"All right, all right, I didn't
really mean that," he mumbled sheepishly.
"It's the Lamia talking," Hercules
guessed, giving him a consoling look.
"Do you always have to be so
understanding?" Iolaus complained sulkily, but his eyes were grateful.
"It isn't always easy," Hercules
said wryly.
"I need to take a look at Neman's
things," Aethalides said into the silence that followed. "You two should
stay with the delegates."
"So now you want to get rid of both
of us?" Iolaus snapped irritably.
"No, I want the pair of you in a
crowd so the Lamia will leave you alone. It's fed now so it's probably
resting somewhere, but on the off chance it isn't…"
"If it's asleep somewhere, we can
track it," Hercules said hopefully. "And kill it…"
"You can't track something that
doesn't leave tracks," Aethalides reminded him coolly. He noticed that
Iolaus was watching Hercules suddenly, clearly more worried by the thought
that Hercules might be in danger from the Lamia than concerned for his own
safety. That was typical Iolaus and it made Aethalides feel better. As long
as Iolaus was fretting over Hercules' safety the Herald could be sure he
hadn't been substituted for a Lamia changeling. "It's a spirit. That why I
want to go through Neman's things. If it was trapped in that vase and he was
looking for a way to use it, then I hope he would have had the sense to find
a way to destroy it if it got away from him."
"The knife," Hercules said
thoughtfully.
"Exactly. I wish I could translate
the carvings."
"Maybe Astrid could," Iolaus
suggested. "She told me she was into antiques."
"It can't hurt to ask her,"
Hercules agreed, grabbing the last bread roll before Iolaus could get to it.
"I'm sure she’ll do anything for Iolaus."
Iolaus blushed. "So would Iocastus
for you," he shot back.
Aethalides sighed heavily, nibbling
on his own honey bread and hoping they would stop bickering before the
delegates arrived. He could hear them heading their way already.
* * *
"When I said I’d check Neman's
things, I meant I’d check Neman's things. On my own?" Aethalides gave
the little group hovering in the doorway to Neman's room a pointed look. He
had opened it to a polite knock, expecting Astrid. Instead he had got the
whole delegation.
Iolaus had asked Astrid to look at
the murder weapon and she had agreed on condition that he went with her.
Where Iolaus went Hercules naturally followed. Orides had invited himself
along since it involved Neman and he was suspicious of what they were up to.
Mollius had followed because he had a streak of paranoia a mile wide where
any of the other Ambassadors were concerned. Dulcina had joined in because
she didn't trust any of them and Iocastus seemed to have come along out of
sheer curiosity and the chance to watch Hercules.
"There isn't room for everyone,"
Orides observed impatiently, glaring at his fellow Ambassadors. "Why don't
you all wait outside?"
"Good idea. Why don't you join us?"
Iocastus retorted, meeting his eyes coolly.
"Neman was a fellow Ethican and
this is my suite. I have a right to be here," Orides snapped.
"I'm not leaving if everyone else
stays," Mollius said firmly.
"I was invited," Astrid reminded
them all primly.
"And what's so special about you?"
Dulcina shot at her.
"Intelligence," Astrid replied. "I
can read those carvings. Can you?"
Dulcina flushed angrily.
"Please, let's not argue," Hercules
said hastily.
"We weren't arguing," Orides
sniffed. He was resplendent in rose pink satin hose with a sky blue tunic
this morning. It made Hercules' senses ache simply looking at him. Iolaus
kept staring at the Ethican's rose pink leather shoes, fascinated by the
tiny blue pompoms on them that matched the tunic. "We were discussing."
"Look, you can all wait outside,"
Aethalides snapped impatiently. "In fact if you’re all so damn nosy, you can
all go back and wait in the main room and I'll bring the dagger there then
you can all gawk at it."
There was a miffed silence at this
explosion from the mild mannered Herald. Orides was the first to stir. He
left without a word and one by one the others followed him, gently herded
out by Hercules who closed the door behind him. Aethalides let out a slow,
shaky breath, realising that he was trembling with barely suppressed fury.
"You okay, Aethalides?" Iolaus had
lingered, coming up close to the Herald's side for moral support.
"I have one nerve left and they're
getting on it," Aethalides whispered. "Why does everything have to be such a
mess?!"
"You're worried that this will all
go wrong and Jason will blame you? You know better," Iolaus said quietly. He
grinned wickedly. "He'll blame me."
Aethalides stared at him for a
second and then laughed. "Thanks, Iolaus. You always know how to put things
in perspective."
"It's part of my natural charm,"
the hunter said easily. "Um, Jason won't blame me, will he?"
"You know he won't," Aethalides
chuckled. "You’d better….uh huh, thought so…" Hercules had pulled the door
open and stuck his head in, looking for Iolaus.
"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Iolaus
said quickly, trotting over to join the demi-god. "What? You couldn't smooze
them on your own?"
"If I have to put up with them, I
don't see why I should do it on my own," Hercules retorted. "Aethalides? You
okay here?"
"I'm looking forward to the peace
and quiet," the Herald replied pointedly. "Why don't you fetch the knife
from Pastius?
"Hey, we're out of here!" Hercules
said quickly, grabbing Iolaus before he could say another word and hustling
him out of the room.
A muffled silence fell as the door
closed and Aethalides let out a slow breath. He had already searched Neman's
private room where the body had been found and found nothing of any
interest. Persuading Orides to let him search Neman's part of the suite had
taken longer and, if the Herald had been a suspicious man, he would have
noted that the delay had given Orides plenty of time to make his own search.
Shaking his head, Aethalides got on
with it. His bloodlines had given a natural talent for intrigue and he
sometimes thought he would have made a good spy. Either way, he was good at
finding hiding places and spotting the overlooked so he hoped if Orides had
searched the room he would find something the Ethican had missed.
* * *
"So this is the dread dagger,"
Astrid observed a while later, studying the knife with its ornate black hilt
as Hercules placed it on the table in front of her. They were gathered in
the salon beside the meeting room where the talks were being held. Hercules
had persuaded Pastius to fetch the dagger for them and now they were waiting
for Aethalides to show up. "Would you like me to translate it now?"
"We should wait for Aethalides,"
Hercules said firmly. "And Iocastus. Has anyone seen him? Iolaus?" The
Parthian seemed to have vanished, wandering off while the others delegates
made their way to the salon.
Iolaus shrugged. He had stayed with
the delegates to make sure there was no trouble while Hercules located
Pastius. "He went to his room. I could hardly stop him."
"Did he say why?"
"Said he'd forgotten something."
"I hardly see that it is any of
your concern where he is or why," Orides observed dryly from where he leaned
against the fireplace mantle and sipped his wine. "Unless of
course…."
"I simply want everyone where I can
see them," Hercules snapped. "Someone here is a murderer who may choose to
make a target out of one you. Plus there's a Lamia loose. It's foolish to
wander off alone."
"You don't seem terribly concerned
about leaving your friend alone," Orides sneered.
"Aethalides can look after
himself," Hercules replied coldly.
"Meaning that Iocastus can't?"
Orides queried slyly. "Why are you so worried about him, Hercules?"
Because I trust him as far as I
can throw him, Hercules thought grimly but he
kept his mouth shut. Insulting an Ambassador was not going to help things,
however much the man richly deserved it. And that went for Orides too.
"Surely" Orides shot a glance
around him at the others. "Those stories about Thebans aren't true…"
"Some of them are," Iolaus observed
sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes at the Ethican. "Like our pride. Like the
fact that we'll tear your throat out if you insult us…"
Orides shot a sharp look at him,
his lip curling as he prepared a hot retort. But something in the way Iolaus
looked at him made him hesitate and think twice. He hadn't got to be a
highly influential Ambassador to his King by being stupid. Fair haired and
blue eyed Iolaus might be, but his eyes held the look of trouble for the
asking.
"Why don't I make a start on
translating this while we wait?" Astrid purred. "It will probably take me a
few minutes anyway…"
"Go ahead," Hercules said grimly,
grateful for the way Iolaus moved to his side to present a united front to
the delegates. "If Aethalides and Iocastus don't show up soon, I'm going to
go look for them," he whispered to his partner.
"Why, Hercules, I didn't know you
cared," Iocastus purred, overhearing the remark as he glided into the room
behind them. "Where have you been all my life?"
"For most of it I hadn't been
born," Hercules snapped.
"Ooh, so masterful," Iocastus
simpered. "Don't you know older men are so much better? We have wealth,
refinement, experience…"
"Where were you?" Hercules
interrupted in desperation to shut him up. He could feel Iolaus watching him
blush in fascination.
"You mean for all your life? Well,
now, I was born…"
Hercules gritted his teeth. He
really didn't want to hear Iocastus' life history; especially with everyone
smirking at him knowingly. "Iolaus said you went to your room…"
"Quite right. Would you like me to
show it to you?"
"Why did you go there?"
Iocastus pouted and touched a
bejewelled oval black pendant around his throat. It glowed against the blood
red silk tunic he wore, its long bell sleeves flowing over his hands. "I
forgot my little amulet. It's a mere trinket, but it's supposed to protect
me. Care to have a closer look?" He leaned forward and Hercules leaned back,
resisting the urge to drag Iolaus between them with an effort.
"Fine. Sit down," he ordered
instead.
Iocastus gave him a slow look and
sauntered over to pour himself a goblet of wine instead. He fell into polite
conversation with Mollius and Dulcina. Orides continued to watch everyone,
his eyes never missing a thing. Astrid's attention was fixed firmly on the
knife, her lips moving as she struggled with translating the carvings.
"Herc?"
"Yeah?"
"That amulet? It looks a bit like
the knife," Iolaus whispered. "I wonder what's on the other side? More
carvings?"
"If you think I'm going to go over
there and ask him, you can think again," Hercules said flatly.
Iolaus however was serious. "Why
take that much a risk to fetch a trinket even if it is a protective amulet?
That's the kind of thing you always wear. You don't leave it lying around if
you believe in it."
Hercules glanced at him
thoughtfully, aware of the way his partner's fingers had gone self
consciously to his own talisman that he wore under his deep purple tunic.
"Good point," he admitted, glancing round warily at the sound of a light
footstep. It was Aethalides who walked in this time, looking serious. "You
find anything?" Hercules asked hopefully as the Herald joined them.
"Only more questions. Neman had a
whole selection of books on magic. And these…" He held up a cloth bag.
"Carved stones. Some of the writings look like those on the knife…"
"Instructions to the vase maybe?"
Iolaus suggested.
"Astrid's translating the carvings
on the dagger. Maybe she should see these too?" Hercules put in.
"That's what I was thinking. Madam
Ambassador, I'm sorry to interrupt your concentration but these may be of
use…" Aethalides started to empty the bag onto the cloth covered table,
taking out several oval shaped black tablets.
"Those are Neman's," Orides said
sharply. "Where did you find them?"
"Folded amongst his clothes,"
Aethalides answered smoothly. "Which answered one question for me."
"Which was?" the Ethican snapped.
"You didn't search his room. Or if
you did, you don't know any magic. There was a minor spell on the bag to
hide it."
"Why you, you…you dare to imply
that I would…would…." Orides spluttered to a halt.
"Only in hopes of finding the clue
to the killer, of course," Aethalides soothed. "Or perhaps merely to save
Neman embarrassment. You were friends, weren't you?"
"We grew up together," Orides
muttered then turned away and said nothing else.
"May I?" Astrid had turned her
attention to the tablets. "Are they safe?"
"I removed the spell, so go ahead,"
Aethalides urged.
The Caspian promptly picked up the
nearest tablet, turning it to the lamp she had placed on the table so she
could see the carvings better. A faint silvery shimmer crossed the surface
of the stone as the light caught it.
"They don't look like much to me,"
Iocastus commented, peering over Iolaus' shoulder so he could see better.
"The most powerful magical objects
rarely do," Aethalides observed. "You pick up the wrong rock and the next
thing you know there's a horde of zombies chasing you." Hercules and Iolaus
both gave him an exasperated look and the Herald smiled at them sweetly as
he continued, "Ambassador, this notebook was also with the stones. It might
be of use."
Astrid glanced up, taking the slim
leather bound notebook from his fingers eagerly. "Yes, yes, quite, of
course," she murmured in excitement, a scholarly light entering her
intelligent eyes.
"What is?" Iocastus pressed closer,
annoying Iolaus by pressing against his back to see better. Iolaus slipped
aside, turning and bumping into the Parthian. With a low murmur of apology
that Iocastus barely acknowledged as he leaned over the tablets, Iolaus
moved out of the crush. "They’re quite beautiful, aren't they?" the Parthian
went on. "Might I take a closer look? I have something of an interest in
such things. I might be able to help." When there were no objections, he
picked up a tablet and examined it closely. Following his lead, Mollius and
Dulcina joined in in picking up the tablets and examining them. Only Orides
hung back, drinking his wine and scowling as he stayed aloof and
disapproving.
Hercules folded his arms and did
his best not to frown. Orides was acting very suspiciously, he noted. He was
conspicuous in hanging back while the others examined Aethalides' discovery.
On the other hand, Iolaus was acting suspiciously too as he lurked quietly
in the background examining one of the tablets. Tablet? Hercules blinked and
focused, shooting a sharp glance at Iocastus and then back again. Catching
his eye Iolaus gave him an impish grin and turned his attention back to the
amulet he had lifted from Iocastus' neck. Hercules nearly groaned in dismay
as he realised what the warrior had done. No doubt Iolaus would cheerfully
tell the Parthian he had dropped the amulet and he had found it for him.
Iolaus was very good at making people believe that story; much to Hercules'
frustration.
Astrid barely noticed the tablets
being poked about as she concentrated, her lips moving as she read from the
notebook under her breath.
"How's it going?" Aethalides asked
tentatively, his curiosity getting the better of him.
The Caspian glanced up. "I can pick
out a few of the symbols for myself but they're an ancient language that I
know very little about," she said abruptly. "But Neman took excellent
research notes and has done a perfectly good translation of the knife and
the stones for himself."
Iocastus looked up alertly.
"Really? Who would have thought it?"
"Neman was a scholar," Orides said
grimly. "I should never have brought him here."
"So, what does it say?" Mollius
pressed, caught up in the discovery.
Astrid flipped to the front of the
book. "The first section is on the vase itself." Her hazel green eyes
flicked to Iolaus. "Apparently we were right in our supposition concerning
the objects. It was indeed Egyptian in origin but it was found in Ethica in
an underground tomb that had collapsed due to farming."
"Then how did the King get it?"
Iocastus asked edgily.
"All such discoveries are
automatically the property of the King," Orides said stiffly. "In this
instance, the tomb was actually found by two farm hands who thought to keep
its contents for themselves. They were rumoured to have been attempting to
sell what they found and had returned to the tomb to obtain more items to
sell. When they failed to return to the village, a search party was formed
and their bodies were found in the tomb; drained dry. Strangely enough, no
one wanted to keep the treasure any more and it was handed over to the
King."
"Drained dry?" Aethalides said
sharply. "Like Flavius?"
Orides nodded once curtly.
"Why didn't you mention this
before?" Hercules demanded.
The Ethican gave him an angry look,
then slumped a little. "I didn't make the connection immediately," he
admitted wearily. "And when I did, it seemed unimportant. You knew what it
was and that it had been in the vase. What else was there to add?"
Hercules' fists balled in fury, but
he knew the Ethican was right. Knowing the origin of the vase didn't help
much, but it made him wonder what other secrets the Ambassador had been
keeping.
Orides looked around at the other
delegates and sighed. "Neman was obsessed with that vase and its secrets. He
was furious with me for bringing him here. It was my idea for the King to
present the vase as a gift to Corinth. Not because I knew it was dangerous,
but because it was the only way I could think of to get it away from Neman.
He had no choice but to obey the royal command." He shook his head and took
a heavy gulp of his wine. "Our friendship seemed to mean nothing to him once
he found the vase in the treasury."
"He may not have been able to help
it," Aethalides said kindly. "The powers of a Lamia are addictive. That's
how they survive."
"If they were at odds, they could
have fought. Orides could have killed him!" Mollius exclaimed, fluttering in
alarm the lacy handkerchief he had been using to wipe his hands.
Orides gave him an exasperated
look. "Don't be ridiculous. I had nothing to gain. The mood Neman was in he
was likely to attack me so I deliberately left him alone. When he was in one
of his moods there was no reasoning with him."
"What kind of mood?" Hercules
pressed.
"Touchy, withdrawn…He wanted to be
alone with his vase," Orides shook his head again. "I should have known
there was something unnatural going on." He waved the hand with his
wineglass in it. "Allow Astrid to continue, she may have something of value
to add."
Astrid nodded, her irritated
expression at the interruption fading as she became the focus of attention
again. Hercules glanced down at his partner as Iolaus appeared at his side.
"Give it back," he hissed at him.
"Soon," Iolaus assured him, rubbing
his fingers of the silky smoothness of the stone. It made his skin tingle
and itch every time he touched it. Part of him wanted to fling it away from
him, another part wanted to caress it like a lover. He did his best to sound
confident as he spoke, "The gems are a recent addition to make it look
flashy. The symbols on the back are like the ones on the vase. And it's made
from the same kind of stone."
"Sure?"
"As sure as I can be," Iolaus told
him. "And there's something else; if those farm hands went looking for
someone to buy what they found, then that someone may have come looking for
the vase when they didn't show up to hand it over."
Hercules frowned. "And followed
Neman here?"
Iolaus shrugged. "If it wasn't for
Aethalides' wards, the killer could have been long gone."
"But the vase was smashed."
"A screw up," Iolaus said
succinctly. "Or maybe Neman threw it at him, or dropped it when he realised
there was nothing he could do."
"He released the Lamia on purpose?"
"If he was its master it would have
obeyed him, wouldn't it?" Iolaus asked. "Maybe he released it to protect
him. Maybe he thought it could save him."
Hercules considered this, his blue
eyes turning dark with thought. "And if it was trapped in the room, it would
have had to obey its last order; to kill Neman's murderer before it could be
free. That would explain why only Flavius was killed and why it didn't
attack any of us. It only wanted out to fulfil its orders."
"Then maybe Flavius was the
killer!" Iolaus wondered.
"He was with Iocastus, remember.
No, Flavius was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It needed enough food
to sustain it on its hunt." Hercules stretched out one hand and lightly
touched the amulet Iolaus held. "Show that to Orides. See if he recognises
it."
"What if he does?"
Hercules smiled darkly. "Then find
out where he last saw it."
Iolaus considered this. "If it's
Neman's then the killer took it. If it isn't, then we could have found the
buyer?"
Hercules inclined his head. "Maybe.
A sample of what was available to lure him in."
Iolaus looked over at Iocastus and
shivered. "Herc, if Flavius was with him, then maybe that's why he was
killed?"
"Yeah. He would have had Iocastus'
scent on him. Go talk to Orides."
Iolaus slipped away, heading for
the Ethican as he stood morosely drinking by the fireplace. Hercules turned
his attention back to the other delegates and Iocastus in particular. The
Parthian had the notebook and was skimming through it rapidly, reading it
for himself.
"Iocastus?" Hercules moved casually
closer to the Ambassador.
Iocastus looked up, an unfocused
look in his eyes. "Yes?"
"I have a few more questions that I
need to ask," Hercules told him politely, glancing at Aethalides. Aethalides
took his cue quickly.
"Perhaps we should wait outside
then," he said swiftly.
"I'm sure that won't be necessary,"
Iocastus commented reassuringly.
"They are rather personal,"
Hercules said awkwardly.
"Like who I had in my bed the night
Neman was murdered?" Iocastus replied coolly. "As I'm sure you know by now,
it was Flavius. And yes, I did pay him to be there. And no, I don't know who
killed him. He was there until shortly before breakfast. I fail to see what
that has to do with anything."
"Convenient that he was killed
too," Dulcina purred. "So he can't confirm if what you say is the truth."
Iocastus glared at her and tossed
the notebook casually back on the table.
"Have you ever been to Ethica
before?" Hercules asked quietly.
"No," Iocastus said flatly. "Why do
you ask?"
Hercules smiled faintly. "Dulcina
and Astrid obviously know each other. Dulcina, you know Mollius?"
"That's correct," Dulcina inclined
her head gracefully.
"Do any of you know Lord Orides?"
Hercules pressed.
Iocastus was starting to look more
and more annoyed.
"I do," Mollius admitted. "We are
old….acquaintances. I had met Neman in the past once also."
"And Iocastus?" Hercules continued.
"Well, no," Dulcina murmured.
"Never met the fellow," Orides put
in, stalking back to join them with Iolaus beside him. There was a subdued
expression on his face and Iolaus looked watchful.
"Ambassador Astrid?" Hercules
prompted politely.
"Not until we arrived here," Astrid
murmured. "But you are surely not suggesting…" She shook her head. "What
exactly are you suggesting, Hercules?"
"That Iocastus may not be who he
seems," Orides said grimly, glaring at the Parthian.
"But we were all introduced to him
by Ambassador Aethalides," Mollius bleated.
Hercules flicked a glance at the
Herald, waiting for his theory to be blown to pieces. Aethalides shook his
head.
"He introduced himself to me. I had
no reason to assume he was lying. He matched the messenger's description and
he knew the password."
"Password?" Hercules echoed. "We
didn't have a password."
"You didn't need a password. I knew
who you are," Aethalides pointed out cheerfully. "It was 'By Zeus'."
"This is downright insulting!"
Iocastus exclaimed. "Why would I be here if I wasn't who I say I am?"
"To obtain the vase?" Iolaus
suggested quietly.
"Or to ruin the talks," Aethalides
put in.
"I have done nothing to oppose
them!"
"Or to help them," Orides pointed
out. "Iolaus? Get on with it, man."
Iolaus shot a dirty look at him but
stepped forward, holding out the amulet to Iocastus. "Yours I believe?"
Iocastus' hand shot instinctively
to his neck, then he paled. "You…thief…." He hissed, outraged. "How dare
you?! Give me that!" He stepped forward angrily and Iolaus nimbly stepped
back, staying out of reach.
"You call me a thief? You took this
from Neman's rooms, didn't you?"
"No!" Iocastus snarled.
"Yes. I’d recognise it anywhere,"
Orides said with a bitter half laugh. "I know it belonged to Neman because I
arranged for the gems to be put on it for him so it would at least look
expensive rather than like a bit of old pot! He kept it with him at all
times. He always wore it."
Iocastus' eyes narrowed. "All
right," he said slowly. "I admit that the amulet was his. But he sold it to
me. I collect rare and unusual antiquities. He said he needed money."
"Lies," Orides said flatly. "Neman
was a wealthy man. And he would never have parted with the amulet. He
believed in its power too much."
"If you brought it, why didn't you
say so immediately?" Aethalides asked sharply.
"Because I knew you’d immediately
assume I'd killed him and I didn't. If Flavius was alive, he'd tell you I
was with him."
"How convenient that he isn't,"
Iolaus commented sarcastically.
Iocastus moved towards him, glaring
at the younger man angrily. "You’re quite the little troublemaker, aren't
you?" he sneered bitterly.
"Not so much of the little," Iolaus
shot back.
Hercules started to ease towards
them, he didn't like the way things were going. They felt wrong. And he
definitely didn't like having Iocastus that close to his partner. Aethalides
started to drift closer too; on the same wave length as Hercules..
"Are you going to listen to these
lies?" Iocastus demanded aloud, looking around at the resentful expressions
of the other delegates. "Do you really believe that I could kill anyone?"
"Yes," Iolaus said quietly.
Iocastus met his gaze, a dangerous
light flickering in his own eyes. Iolaus started to ease back a fraction,
suddenly aware that he had let the man get too close. If Iocastus had been a
warrior, he would never have let him get within range.
"What is the amulet for?" Mollius
asked tentatively.
"Protection against the Lamia,"
Iocastus answered coolly. He held his hand out to Iolaus, holding his blue
eyes captive with his own. "Give it to me."
Unconsciously Iolaus held the
amulet tighter, clutching it to his chest. "No," he refused, but he sounded
uncertain.
"You know you want to," Iocastus
urged softly. "What it wants from you, you don't want to give. I've had the
dreams too, Iolaus. But I can control it. You can't. The amulet will call
the Lamia to you if you don't know how to stop it. You can feel it, can't
you?"
Iolaus shivered, feeling the air
thickening and darkening around them. He could taste his pulse in his mouth
as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Aethalides lifted one cupped palm
as if he felt rain pool in his hand. "Magic," he breathed and shot a
worried look at Hercules. "Iocastus, whatever it is you’re doing, stop it.
You don't know what you’re calling up." A puff of cold air breathed through
the room, dousing half the candles and making the fire shudder and dim as if
passed. There was a faint sight and a thud as Mollius keeled over in a
faint.
"I know exactly what I'm
doing, bard," Iocastus sneered, never looking away from Iolaus. "All my life
I've studied Lamias and searched for the key to eternity. When those stupid
farm hands came to me with one of those tablets, I knew they had stumbled
across what I had been looking for. When they failed to come back with the
rest, I tracked them. I found out that they'd been killed and that the King
had the Lamia vase; the key to eternity itself. I couldn't let the fool
hand it over to Jason like a worthless old pot. So I killed the Parthian
messenger and sent my own message then I took the Ambassador's place."
"Did you kill him?" Hercules asked
grimly.
"Never saw the man," Iocastus
replied shortly. "I suggest you tell your friend here to give me the amulet.
I'm the only one here who knows how to control the Lamia."
"Don't do it, Iolaus," Aethalides
said quickly. "He doesn't know the answer."
Iolaus licked dry lips, feeling
that cold wind playing around him, ruffling his hair with playful fingertips
and tickling the back of his neck. He knew it, knew its shape and feel and
touch and clutched tighter at the amulet, feeling it impressing itself on
his skin…
"Did you kill Neman too?" Hercules
pressed.
"I went to reason with him, not
kill him. But he gave me no choice. He wouldn't sell me the vase. We
struggled. He started waving the dagger around." Iocastus lifted one
shoulder in a shrug. "I took it away from him and stabbed him. He threw the
vase down. I think the fool thought the Lamia would save him. But I was too
strong for it. It came under my control."
"If you control it," Hercules said
carefully. "Why did you let it kill Flavius?"
"I didn't," Iocastus retorted. "It
killed him on its own. Maybe it was hungry."
"Or maybe you wanted him killed
because he knew you killed Neman," Hercules growled.
Iocastus' lips thinned. "If he
thought he could use what little he knew against me, he was wrong," he said
icily.
"So he did know…"
"He was gone when I returned. I
assume he followed me out of curiosity. He would have guessed when he heard
about Neman. I expected him to come to me that morning, but never saw him
again alive. Now, give me the amulet, Iolaus."
Iolaus shook his head, mute and
wide eyed. His hand was starting to bleed where the gems cut into his
fingers, but he couldn't let go. The stone seemed to be melding with his
skin, but he couldn't feel a thing. His hand felt numb as if he had held a
piece of ice for too long...
Everything around him seemed to be
moving in slow motion; their voices were muffled as if drowned in the surf.
The Lamia was with him and there was nothing he could do.
He was drowning and no one cared…
He cried out in the silence of his
own head, screaming for help, crying out for someone to save him from the
monsters.
And in the darkness something
stirred and responded, reaching for him….
"Iolaus isn't going to give you the
amulet," Aethalides said sharply. "Don't be a fool, Iocastus. If you know
anything about Lamias and the spell that contained this one, then you know
that its first aim is to kill you for killing its master. Isn't that why you
left Neman without it?"
Iocastus' expression twitched. "It
was angry. It needed time to calm down and recognise my mastery," he said
slowly. "I didn't want to be found with the body. I left through the secret
passage."
"So you left the Lamia on the loose
and ran for it," Hercules said in disgust.
Iocastus turned his head enough to
look at him from the corner of one eye. "You're too close, Hercules. Step
back."
"Or what? You'll throw a tantrum?"
Hercules sneered.
Iocastus' eyes glittered and his
right hand moved in a flicking gesture, the silken sleeve slipping away from
his hand as a stiletto blade from a wrist sheath slipped into his hand. Its
point pricked the hollow of Iolaus' bare throat, drawing a bead of bright
scarlet blood. "I'll kill him," he said simply. Iolaus blinked, seeming to
recognise that something was happening but still not moving.
Hercules hesitated in mid lunge,
his big hands clenching as he clutched helplessly at the air. Even with his
reflexes he couldn't guarantee reaching Iocastus before he could ram the
blade home.
"All I want is the amulet,"
Iocastus said reasonably.
"Then why don't you take it?"
Hercules said bitterly.
"He can't," Astrid spoke quietly
from behind them. She gestured at the tablets and notebook on the table
before her. "The amulet can only be given…."
"Or taken from the body of its last
owner," Iocastus snapped triumphantly.
"Then how did Iolaus manage to get
his hands on it?" Aethalides questioned softly.
A flicker of confusion crossed
Iocastus' face. "I'm not sure….I've never heard of that happening before…."
"We rule where you do not," Iolaus
whispered, breathing it softly into his face. "We command where you cannot.
The Lamia is mine and I am hers. And she is here…."
Iocastus paled. "I have not called
her."
Iolaus' blue eyes glittered,
shimmering with an unnatural silvery light reflected from something that
only he could see. Ripples of light spread across his face as if from the
sun on the water. In his mind she whispered, crooned….
Let her pass. We are the
Gateway, she may pass but she may not stay. You shall name her Amashan…
The words came from outside him and within him and other words shaped on his
tongue. Her words. "Our last master's blood is on your hands. We can taste
it…" he purred aloud.
Hercules shot a wild panic-stricken
look at Aethalides, wondering what to do now. He might have held out for the
forlorn hope that Iolaus was only acting if it hadn't been for that
shimmering light. Aethalides looked as helpless as he felt.
"Send her away then," Iocastus
hissed, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the stiletto. "Or
I'll kill you. She can't prevent that any more than she could save Neman!"
"Do not anger us, mortal," Iolaus
said, but the words seemed to stumble on his tongue. He shook his head
sharply and for a second his eyes cleared, then the shadows rippled across
his face once more and the ghostly shimmer returned. Where he had moved the
blade had nicked his skin and blood trickled down his throat, a thin crimson
rivulet that trickled over his collarbone and chest. In the corners of the
room, the shadows stirred and twisted, flowing eagerly towards him like
ripples of a dark tide.
"Iolaus! Don't fight her!"
Aethalides yipped abruptly. "Let her come. Call to her."
"Are you nuts?!" Hercules
yelped.
The Herald shook his head. "No, she
wants vengeance. She won't hurt Iolaus unless he fights her. He's acting as
her conduit somehow. I think, I feel, that maybe something's helping
him. But he has to co-operate. He has to help it."
"She's hungry…" Iolaus whispered,
as the light pulsed lovingly over his face. Shadows pooled around his feet,
starting to coalesce.
"Call her and I’ll kill you,"
Iocastus whispered in terror.
"Do that and she will rip you
apart," Aethalides warned. "Iolaus, can you name her? Do you know her?"
"Amashan…." Iolaus said softly. In
response to his voice, the shadows boiled, surging upwards as the shimmering
light poured downwards, pouring like a silver rain into the shadows. Where
they touched, they writhed turning into mist that formed a colourless water
like shape that somehow flowed upwards again like a wave, shaping and
forming…
"No!" Iocastus screamed and lunged,
grabbing Iolaus and pulling him across him like a shield, a barrier against
the unknown. He held the knife across the hunter's throat, holding him
captive as Hercules fumed helplessly, willing Iolaus to snap out of it and
do something. Iolaus stood quietly, his eyes open but empty.
Between them the Lamia took shape,
her body building itself out of light and shadow; a statuesque figure of
gleaming water and silver that turned slowly solid and draped itself in a
silver gown. Long hair sprouted and grew, tumbling down her slender
shoulders to her waist. Hands lifted, smoothing it back as her face formed
beneath the glossy brown tresses. Lips of berry red parted as he eyes
opened and focus came into them. "I am," she whispered and her voice was
like the waves on the shore; soft and gentle now, but with the power to
smash and destroy with the capriciousness of the sea. "You have named me,
master, and I am here. I am Amashan again." She held out her hands to Iolaus
and he half lifted his own to take them.
Iocastus yanked at him, physically
dragging the hunter backwards. "No," he spat. "If he accepts you in the
mortal world, he becomes your master. I'm not that much of a fool!"
The Lamia's eyes drifted lazily to
the Parthian and she licked a forked tongue over her lips, exposing dainty
white fangs. She looked faintly annoyed for a second, then her face dropped
back to its implacable beauty. "You are meat," she told him coolly. "Release
the master or I will kill you slowly."
"You'll have to come through him
first," Iocastus sneered. "I am your master. The amulet is mine. I took it
from the body."
"You killed Master Neman. You
cannot take his place. I have chosen this one," Amashan replied. Unhurried
and calm, she turned her head and studied the others in the room. Her gaze
wandered over the delegates without interest, then her liquid silver green
eyes settled on first Hercules and then Aethalides before she turned back to
focus on Iolaus. "The mortals may leave. I may snack on them later," she
said offhandedly. "The demi-gods will stay. It has been long since I tasted
the sweet blood of demi-gods."
"Oh, that is so not reassuring,"
Hercules whispered.
Aethalides took a step back,
gesturing at the delegates to retreat.
"Damn it, what kind of a coward do
you take me for?" Orides exclaimed angrily. "The women and that wimp Mollius
can go. I'll stay."
Amashan turned her head to look at
him and flicked a hand towards him. Orides was plucked from his feet and
hurled across the room, tossed through the doors that swung open before a
blast of icy wind.
Dulcina and Astrid exchanged a
look, then grabbed the unconscious Mollius by an arm each and dragged him
towards the doors. The Lamia ignored them, turning her gaze longingly back
to Iolaus.
"Hercules," Astrid called as she
helped roll Mollius into the corridor. "The knife….It has to be wielded by a
mortal master to…."
Amashan flicked her hand again and
the doors crashed shut, shutting the delegates outside and silencing
Astrid's warning. "I will allow no interference," she announced coolly as
her eyes bored into Iocastus. "You will release the Master now."
"You can't get to him unless you
want me to kill him," Iocastus bargained. "I will make you a much better
master. I understand you. He doesn't. Do you know how long I've spent
looking for you?"
Amashan's eyes were almost
sorrowful as she gazed at him. "Not as long as I have spent enslaved to your
kind," she answered and there was a dark undercurrent to her voice. "Once I
had freedom. Once I roamed where I willed and preyed on the sailors that
intruded upon my world. I could call to a man's soul and name him mine."
Aethalides drew in a sharp breath
of alarm. "She's a Siren," he breathed in dismay.
"Siren, Lamia, call me as you
will," she replied without looking at the Herald. "I am Amashan and I was
powerful." Her eyes glittered like sea slicked pebbles. "I shall be powerful
again."
"How did," Hercules swallowed and
had to start again. "How did you become trapped?"
Amashan glanced at him. "You think
to fool me, Hercules? You look surprised that I know your name. But then I
know many things. I know your weakness. I know that the master would not
betray you even in his dreams. I know how important you are to him. But how
important is he to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Give me this one," she turned her
glittering gaze on Iocastus. "I want his life. I want to hold his soul in my
hand."
"I can't do that," Hercules
protested.
"But you want to," Amashan purred
triumphantly. "A part of you says he deserves it after what he has done. You
are enraged that he should treat your friend so. I can feel your anger,
Hercules. Like a storm at sea it rises up within you. A dark and powerful
storm that will sweep all before it. Release it, Hercules, and follow me."
"Never," Hercules refused, his
teeth clenching on the anger he felt.
"You didn’t answer his question,
Amashan," Aethalides put in quietly.
The Lamia looked at him slowly. "It
is of no importance."
"He asked you. You must answer."
Her eyes darkened with rage.
"Ares," she hissed bitterly. "He wished to make war but to do so the ships
had to pass my home. I would not let either fleet pass. I fed as I had not
fed in too long. And then Ares called to me and I came to his hand, lured by
his dark promise, by a power that I could taste…." Her body straightened,
seemed somehow to ripen with promise. "I opened to his passion and he
ensnared me, made of me a slave to his precious Admiral. Since then I have
dwelled in that damn vase, waiting, seeking my freedom…"
"Feeding your master," Iocastus
growled, his eyes hot with hunger. "When you feed, you pass your energy to
your master, don't you? You give him immortality."
"Is that what you want, mortal?
Immortality?" Amashan's voice softened seductively.
"Yes," Iocastus breathed.
"Then come to me…." She smiled and
held out her hands to him, apparently ignoring the fact that Iolaus stood
between them. "Open to me and I will give you what you deserve."
Iocastus moaned softly, tightening
his grip on Iolaus. "I want it…" he groaned, then reached over Iolaus'
shoulder and grabbed wildly for the amulet the hunter still held, clawing at
it, scrabbling for the stone.
Amashan hissed and lunged, her
hands slapping against Iolaus' bare chest and passing straight through the
hunter into Iocastus.
"No!" Iocastus screamed in pain and
panic as her hands sank into his body. She moved through Iolaus like
sunlight through water, emerging from his back as Iolaus arched in agony
then sagged forward, his knees buckling under him as the Lamia emerged from
his back like mist and melted into a struggling Iocastus.
Hercules and Aethalides moved of
one accord, grabbing Iolaus as he fell and dragging him away from the Lamia.
Iocastus screamed and fought,
reaching out wildly to them as the knife fell from his spasming hand. The
Lamia could be seen both around and within him, writhing sensuously as if
she bathed in his blood and body.
Lowering Iolaus into Aethalides'
arms, Hercules started towards him. The Herald grabbed his arm. "Don't do
it, Herc."
"I can't let it kill him."
"It's already too late. She killed
him the moment she touched him."
The Parthian fell to his knees,
struggling to breathe as he clawed at his chest, digging at his body with
his nails as if he wanted to claw of his own skin. His mouth opened and
closed soundlessly now, his eyes holding nothing but pain and fear. His body
seemed to be drying out, desiccating before their eyes. His flesh withered
away, drying out until it outlined his very bones. He toppled to the floor
on his face, his hands scrabbling feebly against the stone as his writhing
gradually subsided to nothing and his ash grey skin started to flake away.
Only then did the Lamia rise,
lifting herself from his back as if she was merely sitting up in bed. She
licked her fingertips, gliding her tongue over her fangs as she arched and
floated upwards, rising to her feet without need of joints. "That was
lovely," she purred as she turned back to face the others. Her eyes were
enormous green pools of glowing emerald fire. "Whose next?"
"You murdered that man!" Hercules
yelled in fury. "You expect us to submit to you willingly?"
"I warned him he was meat," Amashan
pointed out serenely as she drifted towards them, no longer bothering to
even pretend to walk. "In his arrogance, he did not listen."
"I thought the kiss of a Lamia was
supposed to be painless," Aethalides said angrily.
Amashan blinked, licking her lips
again. "Come to me willingly and it will be," she answered. "I have no wish
to hurt you, only to feed and grow strong again." She offered him her hand.
"Come, I will be gentle."
Aethalides half twitched towards
her hand and then pulled back in alarm. "No," he gasped, shooting a
frightened look towards what was left of Iocastus. Only his ashes were left,
leaving his outline on the floor.
"What do you want?" Hercules asked
sharply. He was kneeling beside Iolaus as the hunter lay in a ball on the
floor between him and the Herald. Whether he was unconscious, asleep or
worse, Hercules didn't know. All he did know was that under the hand he had
laid on his friend's back he could feel him breathing.
"My freedom," the Lamia answered.
"And how can you get that?"
Amashan's eye |