The throne room had been built to impress. A huge vaulted ceiling was held up by pillars of the finest marble, their lengths entwined with ropes of golden vines, the grapes cut from sapphires, amethysts and emeralds. More gems were set into the mosaics etched into the walls, each feather on the stylised birds a glittering jewel and each flower a blaze of precious metals and rainbow riches. More wealth than most kingdoms accumulated in a thousand years was in this one room and only the dimmest flickers of it were visible due to the fact that only a handful of low-burning torches were dotted around the throne.

That was the most impressive of all the treasures, although few would have given it a second thought amongst all the other glories scattered around. Made out of a dull grey metal, it lacked any kind of ornamentation and seemed more like a badly wrought sculpture of a rock than anything else. To those who knew about it, however, the throne of Calyonis was one of the wonders of the world. Wrought by the god Hephaestus, the throne was endowed with mystical powers and empowered those who sat on it.

That was a sore point with Descarus. When he'd defeated the old king in battle and then killed him, it hadn't really occurred to him that it might have been wiser to keep the old twit alive until he'd divulged the secret of the throne. An impulsive psycho, Descarus had sliced first and thought afterwards. To be absolutely accurate, the problem had come to his attention when he had first sat on the throne and promptly discovered that it was red-hot.

Once they'd beaten the flames out, Descarus had inspected the throne suspiciously, wondering if it was a trick of some kind. The throne had appeared cool to the touch, but the second Descarus had lowered his butt on to the throne he had shot back up again and a helpful guard had nearly got his head cut off due to a too-liberal application of a bucket of water to his new king's rear end. With his triumphant coronation a total shambles, Descarus had stormed off in a huff and demanded that all the seers and oracles in the kingdom present themselves to help him solve the riddle of the throne. He didn't think it would take all that long. The previous king had been the son of an usurper himself, so it wasn't as if the throne only recognised one particular bloodline.

It had taken nearly two months, but gradually it had dawned on Descarus that it wasn't going to be that simple. None of the supposed seers had come anywhere near to solving the problem, while all the oracles insisted that Hephaestus wasn't being very co-operative about giving them the key to the secret. The bravest of them had suggested that Descarus send to Delphi for an answer, but since he had a pretty good idea that the oracle would have something fairly pithy to say about some of his other deeds on his way to the top, Descarus had passed on that solution. Since the damn throne was too heavy for mortals to move, the new king's subjects had grown used to a ruler who sat on a cushion on the top step below the throne and who kept the throne room dimly lit to reduce the chance of looking ridiculous. If it hadn't been for the disastrous PR it would have provoked, he would have had a new throne room built and ruled from there.

Of course, that didn't stop the jokes.....

Now he sat on his cushion and leaned forward eagerly to listen to what the man before him was saying. "You're certain?" he demanded. "This man is a genuine oracle?"

"Sire, I've never seen anything like it," Prateus swore with feeling. "Come to that, I've never seen anything like the oracle. He had wild hair sticking up in all directions and he always looked a little singed, for some reason. There's no denying that he was an oracle, though. Every time he opened his mouth he made some prediction which came true."

"Small things? Short-term guesses?" Descarus pressed with desperate eagerness.

Prateus snorted. "You name it, he prophesied it. Sometimes it was small things, but then he'd come out with some big one. He told one woman not to lug a heavy jar about while she was carrying her unborn son. She didn't even know she was pregnant but she gave birth to a healthy boy four days ago."

"A guess," Descarus scoffed, even as his eyes widened slightly. "It could just as easily have been a girl."

"But he knew she was with child before she did," Prateus pointed out, "and there were other prophesies. One of a flood he warned a farmer against, then the location of a nest of bandits which would travel into the region in a few months, and advice to one man against investing his life savings in some toga-selling franchise. Everything happened as he had said."

"Incredible." Descarus leaned back against the throne without thinking, then gave a yelp and jerked forward again, frantically patting at the faint wisp of smoke which arose. "You believe that he truly has the ear of the gods?"

Prateus shrugged. "He travels with Hercules, the son of Zeus. What more proof do you need?"

"I thought I'd heard that Hercules travelled in the company of some hunter or other," Descarus said vaguely.

"Perhaps Hercules got tired of him," Prateus suggested. "It would certainly be better to have an infallible oracle travelling with you. Think of all the trouble you could avoid if you had someone along who always knew what was going to happen next."

"Yes," Descarus agreed. "And this Iolaus had the gift of prophecy?"

"My lord king, Iolaus was the greatest oracle I have ever seen," Prateus agreed earnestly.

oooOooo

"There, you see? I told you that would happen!"

Hercules slowly sat up amongst the debris of his mother's roof, spat out some thatch and gave Iolaus a long-suffering look. "Why don't you go off and do some fishing?" he demanded.

"What, and miss out on the sight of you making such a mess of a simple repair job?" Iolaus demanded, grinning mischievously. "Oh, I couldn't."

"Do me a favour, Iolaus," Hercules growled as he picked himself up off the floor where he had landed after crashing through the roof by accident. "Force yourself."

The blond gave a delighted gurgle of laughter, then made an elaborate show of brushing Hercules down. "Just be glad that your mother decided to go and stay with that friend of hers for a few days," he pointed out. "Can you imagine what she'd say if she was here?"

Hercules winced. "Yes, as a matter of fact I can," he growled. "No, I don't want you to help me pick the straw out of my hair, Iolaus," he continued irritably. "I like having straw in my hair, okay?"

"Oh, okay. Nice look. Very Early Rural Barbarian." Iolaus managed to keep a straight face for all of twenty seconds before he started laughing again.

"All right, that does it! Iolaus, go into town and buy us some supplies before I decide to use you to hammer the pegs home with," Hercules threatened. It didn't help that every piece of advice which Iolaus had offered and Hercules had ignored had turned out to be right. The son of Zeus had got to the stage where he was second-guessing everything he tried to do and he was just getting clumsier by the moment.

"You mean you don't have anything for me to eat?" Iolaus demanded in horror.

"I forgot. I was so busy trying to remember what size pegs to buy-"

"-which you got wrong," Iolaus interjected.

"Which," Hercules agreed through gritted teeth, "I got wrong, that I clean forgot to get the food. Why don't you go and get some things?"

"You paying?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," Hercules agreed reluctantly, "although why I should fork good dinars out to stuff your bottomless stomach is beyond me. Get some money out of the purse in the main room and get what you think we need."

"Okay."

The prospect of going shopping for food was always guaranteed to please Iolaus and he abandoned Hercules without a second thought. Heaving a sigh of relief, the demi-god jumped nervously when the blond suddenly reappeared in the door and gave him a knowing smirk.

"And I'll buy some of the right kind of pegs while I'm in town as well," he promised. "Because no matter how hard you try and duck the issue, you're going to need them!"

"Just get the food and forget about the damn critiquing!" Hercules bellowed, then gave a sigh of defeat as a chunk of the roof detached and fell on top of him. "I hate mending roofs," he muttered.

oooOooo

"Excuse me, but is your name Iolaus?"

Iolaus turned at the sound of the unfamiliarly accented voice and gave the stranger who faced him a cautiously friendly smile. "It was the last time I looked," he agreed.

"Get him!" the man promptly yelled.

"I knew this was going to happen," Iolaus groaned. Somehow or other, every time he came into a town, he managed to get involved with a fight of some kind. It was enough to put a person right off the urban dream.

"See? See? I told you he was an oracle!" screamed another man excitedly. "Quick! Grab him before he manages to prophesise you!"

Totally bemused by the weird screaming, Iolaus automatically took care of the first three men, but failed to notice the fourth until the club he had thrown connected with the warrior's head. He spotted him then, surrounded by a very pretty swirl of stars, but unfortunately someone put the lights out before Iolaus could get around to doing anything with him. The strangers gathered around the unconscious blond, panting hard as they tried to gather what few wits they'd had before Prateus had hired them.

"Boy, they sure make oracles a lot feistier in this neck of the woods," one of them observed.

"Bit small, though," another mused as he cautiously prodded Iolaus to make sure he wasn't faking it.

"Maybe foretelling the future stunts your growth?" the third hazarded as he tried to staunch his bleeding nose.

"Glad I can't do it, then," observed the leader. "Come on, then; let's get him into the getaway cart before someone starts getting nosy and yells for Hercules. Last thing we want is get him after us. He's a big one."

"Uh-huh. Don't suppose he's ever done any oracling in his life," the third man decided. "He's way too tall for it."

oooOooo

Hermes jerked to a halt in the middle of trying to decide whether to steal King Clesion's crown before he seduced the old bat's beautiful daughter or vice versa. He frowned as he registered a faint ripple of energy from Olympus, then gave an indignant squawk when he felt someone grab him and haul him in. Before he quite realised what was happening, he found himself being deposited with less than godlike grace on the polished marble floor of Athena's study.

"The bimbo's in trouble again," she announced from behind a large book she was annotating.

Rubbing a delicate part of his anatomy as he fluttered to his feet, Hermes gave her a filthy look. "A polite 'excuse me, Hermes, but I think you should know that-'" He screeched to a halt as he realised what she had said. "Iolaus? Again?! Already?!?!. Wow, he's almost as good at this as I am!"

Athena snorted and closed the book she was reading with a flourish before giving her half-brother a severe look. "Yes, well I thought I'd better drag you away from Clesion's daughter before you followed suit. Hermes, you know the girl's dedicated herself to Hera."

"Really?" Hermes made a show of widening his eyes and looking amazed. "Whew! Lucky you came along to stop me, isn't it? Wouldn't want to annoy my stepmother, would I?"

"One of these days, Hermes...." Athena growled, shaking her head and laughing despite herself. "Now, about Iolaus....?"

"Oh, yes. What kind of trouble has my golden-haired sweetmeat got himself into this time? Monsters? Hordes of irate fathers? Being mistaken for the reincarnation of a long-lost avatar?"

"He's been kidnapped by a king who wants him to solve the mystery of Hephaestus' throne," Athena put in swiftly before her chatterbox sibling could get into his stride.

"Hephaestus' throne?" Hermes looked at her blankly. "Which one? Last time I looked he'd made a couple of dozen!"

"The one he gave to King Oram." Hermes still looked blank. "The Righteous Ruler Throne?" Nothing. "The one that toasts the butt of anyone except the rightful ruler?"

"Oh, that throne!" Hermes said, light dawning.

"Sheesh, and I complain about the level Aphrodite's mind works at," Athena muttered, shaking her head. "Anyway, Descarus wants Iolaus to tell him how to switch the throne off."

"Why would Iolaus know how to do that?" Hermes demanded in confusion. "He's gorgeous, feisty and has a way with words, but good with gadgets....? The last time he had anything to do with a device he nearly hammered Hercules into the ground."

"Well, to be fair, it was a touch silly of Hercules to stand in front of that siege weapon and ask Iolaus what he was doing," Athena mused. "You didn't have to be a god to guess what would happen. Some things are a given; built into the fabric of the universe by the Elder Gods. Asking Iolaus what he's doing while standing in front of a siege engine designed to hammer things into the ground and expecting to walk away with anything less than a thundering migraine as a result is just plain silly," she finished severely.

"Hmmm, but you have to admit it was funny to watch," Hermes grinned.

For a moment longer, Athena managed to hold the 'I'm a goddess, I don't do giggling' pose, then she started laughing as well. "That it was. But to get back to the subject at hand...?"

"I am always willing to get back to Iolaus," Hermes purred.

"That's for sure," Athena muttered.

"So why does Descarus think Iolaus can help him? Since when was Iolaus an expert on stroppy thrones?"

"Since that time Apollo zapped him with a short-term bolt of oracular lightning," Athena shot back.

Hermes gawped at her for a couple of seconds, then howled with laughter. He'd been a little peeved with Apollo when the other god had decided to teach Iolaus a lesson about mouthing off and temporarily given him a singed head of hair and the gift of prophecy. To be honest, the prophecy bit had been an accident. Apollo had been on the way to Delphi to amaze and awe - well, try to amaze and awe - his latest High Priestess when he had heard Iolaus making some crack about being worshipped. Already a little irritated, Apollo had grabbed the nearest lightning bolt and thrown a near miss. Unfortunately he had used the bolt he'd been planning to use at Delphi, with the result that Iolaus had woken up with a temporary corner on the oracular market.

Once Hermes had got over the shock of the new hairstyle and worked out that Iolaus hadn't been permanently hurt, he'd settled back to enjoy the fun and try to run damage control for Hercules. The latter had been a forlorn hope, of course, since Iolaus had already seen what would happen and not even the gods could deflect a heart bent on wounding itself. Hermes had done his best and kept an eye on Iolaus during all the fighting, taking the opportunity afforded by Iolaus hitting the wall to leach all the remaining oracular energy from the warrior.

"But Iolaus isn't an oracle any more," Hermes pointed out. "I cured him."

"And had to be forcibly prevented from dragging him off for a little convalescence. Oh, yes, don't think I didn't know about that plan," Athena snorted. "Remember our wager, Hermes. It has to be done fairly - or, at least, as fairly as you're capable of doing anything."

"Teeny, I'm wounded, I'm hurt to the quick," Hermes pouted. "As if I'd do anything underhanded to get my hands on that delicious body of his. Anyway, Iolaus couldn't prophesy his way out of a paper bag at the moment."

"How about certain death?"

"What?"

Athena sighed. "Descarus is desperate, Herm. He's been ruler of that kingdom for a year and everyone laughs at him behind his back because of the throne. He's not the kind of man to take that sort of disrespect for long. I'm amazed he's lasted this long. Any day now I expect him to snap and start slaughtering people left, right and centre. How long do you think Iolaus is going to last?"

"Oh. Hmm, maybe a quick rescue bid is called for," Hermes mused. He started to leave, then gave a yelp when she promptly grabbed him again. "Now what?"

"We can't interfere that obviously, you twit," Athena pointed out in exasperation.

"Why not? Anyway, I'll be the soul of discretion. Zip - into the palace, pounce - grab Iolaus, zip - out again."

"Divine intervention will just get everyone worked up and you know it," Athena said severely, shaking him a little to emphasise her point. "Do you think I'd have been sitting on the sidelines all this time if it just took a little hamfisted smacking of heads? If you intercede directly, it's just going to encourage both sides to start something up. The old guard will decide that Descarus is an impious usurper and start an uprising while Descarus will respond equally violently. And who will get caught right in the middle? The ordinary people. You want that much mortal blood on your hands, Hermes?"

"Well, no, of course not," Hermes conceded a mite sulkily. Released by Athena, he spent time rearranging his tunic before giving her a shrewd look. "I'll bet you have a cunning plan, though."

Athena gave him a grin before drawing herself up to her full height. "I'm the goddess of wisdom and tactics, Hermey baby. I always have a cunning plan."

oooOooo

Iolaus awoke to find himself staring up at the business end of a spear. A long and barbed spear, at that. He sighed to himself and let his head fall back on to the cold stone floor. "I knew it," he moaned.

"There, you see, my liege? Already he is prophesying for you!"

Hearing the sound of a familiar voice, Iolaus opened his eyes again and watched the strange little man flap his way around someone who was obviously a king or noble of some kind, although Iolaus was a little uncertain since the man seemed to be sitting on a cushion in front of the throne rather than on the throne itself. Still, foreigners were entitled to be a little weird.

"Um, hi. I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you that it wasn't a good idea to snatch me like this?" he ventured. He blinked as everyone in the dimly lit room went several shades paler and sucked in a nervous breath.

"You foretell my death, Oracle?" the king demanded, trying hard to sound tough but with a definite tremble in his voice.

"Who said anything about death?" Iolaus demanded in bewilderment. "I just said it wasn't a good idea to kidnap me. I never mentioned you dying."

"Oh my, oh my," stuttered the flapper, his hands going to his mouth. "A fate worse than death. Oh my."

Totally convinced that he had been grabbed by a bunch of mental defectives, Iolaus decided to play it safe. "You won't be able to keep me for long. Hercules will come, you know."

"No, he won't," one of the guards started to say, then got whapped over the head by the flapper for his pains.

"Don't contradict the oracle," the little man snapped before he turned to Iolaus and bobbed a couple of times. "Er, I suppose you wouldn't be inclined to give us a convenient time and place to ambush him at, would you?"

"Are you crazy?" Iolaus inquired with interest.

The flapper sighed. "No, I didn't think you would. Oh well, we'll just have to wing it, then. With your permission, sire?"

The king made a dismissive gesture and the flapper and a couple of the guards scuttled out of the throne room. Left lying on the floor, Iolaus cautiously worked his way up into a sitting position and eyed his captor with interest. "So what happens now?"

The king snorted. "As if you didn't know," he growled.

"How can I?" Iolaus pointed out reasonably.

"The gods will tell you. They tell you everything."

"They do?" Iolaus blinked, wondering if stopping at labelling the man a moron had been erring on the side of caution. "Since when?"

"Don't try and deceive me!" the king roared, leaping to his feet. "Do you think Descarus is a fool? Do you think I don't know about your amazing oracular powers? Do you think I will be thwarted just when I am on the verge of discovering the secret of this damn throne?" He forgot himself and slapped the heavy arm of the throne behind him, then yelped as a sizzling sound was heard and he snatched his hand away to blow on it frantically.

"I think you're an idiot is what I think," Iolaus muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Oracle?" Descarus demanded ferociously.

Acutely conscious of the number of sharp spears around him, Iolaus smiled a little weakly and shrugged. "Um, reports of my abilities might have been exaggerated just a teensy little bit, your Highness. It's not like I'm always right."

"Indeed." Descarus didn't look all that convinced. "I have been told you are infallible. Never wrong."

"Yeah, I know what infallible means." Boy, what a time for everyone to suddenly know about me! "The thing is, foretelling the future is pretty much an on-off affair. One day you're hot, the next you're not. Get my drift?"

"Oh, yes." Descarus nodded, then leaned forward. "Now let me tell you something. You will foretell something. If it comes true, you live. If it doesn't you die. Get my drift?"

"Uh, yeah. Perfectly. Very succinctly put," Iolaus gulped. Gods, but he hated these to-the-point types. They never gave you time to come up with a decent plan. "You want me to foretell something. Here. Now." Descarus nodded. "Got any particular subjects you might want to suggest?"

Descarus smiled. "I have a concubine who is carrying a child. She says it is mine. I suspect it was fathered by someone else. She is currently in labour elsewhere in the palace. Tell me who the father is, what the sex of the child will be and what colour its hair will be."

Oh, brother! "Um, you're the father." Any other statement would be a death sentence for the concubine, the child and the man Descarus suspected as the true father. "It will be a girl." More girls than boys were born as a rule, so the odds were with him. "The hair will be...." Oh, gods, what does the father look like? Never mind; Descarus is black-haired and the odds are good again that the hair will be dark at birth. "....black."

"A black-haired girl. We shall see," Descarus purred. "Go and attend the birth," he instructed a hovering lackey. "Return with the news as soon as the child is born."

oooOooo

Hermes waited until he had heard the 'prophesy', then translated to where the concubine was writhing in labour on her bed. That was when the first snag managed to turn up. With his immortal vision, Hermes was able to see quite clearly that the child about to be born was male, had a shock of wheat-gold hair like his mother and took after his Oriental slave father.

"Oh, drat," Hermes grumbled. "I just hate it when I have days like this."

Casting about swiftly, he disappeared and then rematerialised at the side of the goddess of childbirth. "Missy, I need a favour."

Artemis gave a startled yelp and jerked her bow as she released the arrow she had been aiming at the hind she'd spent the morning tracking. The arrow missed the hind by a good mile, caromed off a tree, ricocheted off a rock and screamed off into the depths of a temple where it embedded itself in the rear end of a statue to Hera and triggered off a minor cult which would baffle future historians as to why the priesthood all wore false arrows in a really peculiar place.

"Tartarus, Hermes, look what you made me do!" Artemis wailed. "I missed!"

"Yeah, big deal. I'm sure the deer appreciates that fact," Hermes sniffed.

"I'dve brought it back to life after I'd killed it," Artemis said indignantly, gloomily watching the hind bound off into the distance. "It's not like I do any permanent damage, like the mortals do."

"Sure. Anyway, think of this as just being a minor setback. Nobody saw you miss, so your rep's safe. Now, about this favour...."

"Get real! You turn up here, ruin a full morning's stalk, make me miss the kind of clear shot a rookie could do with her eyes closed and then expect me to do you a favour? Forget it."

"It's for Iolaus," Hermes coaxed.

Artemis paused for a second. "Blondie? What kind of favour?"

"I need you to interfere with a birth and do a little last-minute fiddling with a baby," Hermes told her.

"A birth? Why, is it Iolaus' kid?"

"Don't be silly. It's some concubine of Descarus' and I need it to fit the description Iolaus gave of it."

Artemis left off fiddling with her bow and paid attention. "Hermes, you're not making any sense. Tell me what's going on and make a proper job of it."

"But I haven't time to compose an epic!" Hermes wailed.

"Not that kind of job," Artemis sighed. "Look, just give me the short version."

"Oh, okay. Iolaus mistaken for oracle, stop. Descarus wants oracle to solve riddle of Hephaestus' throne, stop. Descarus kidnaps Iolaus, stop. Iolaus told to prove he's oracle or he's killed, stop. Describes baby to be born in next few minutes only he's wrong, stop. Need help from goddess of childbirth, stop. That's you, stop."

"All right, I get the message, stop," Artemis said. "You're lucky this is for Iolaus," she continued, wagging a stern finger under Hermes' nose. "I wouldn't do this for just anyone, you know, but Iolaus is...." She paused for a moment before going slightly pink and then cleared her throat noisily. "Well, Iolaus is different. Give me the description and I'll see to it."

oooOooo

"My lord, my lord, the child has been born!"

Iolaus tensed as the flunky galloped into the throne room and flung himself at Descarus' feet. Here it comes, he thought moodily.

"And?" the king prompted.

"It is a girl-child with raven hair and your nose, my liege. Everyone has remarked on how much she resembles you. One of the guards couldn't seem to get over it and the concubine burst into tears as soon as she saw how well she had served you."

"Incredible," Descarus breathed. "My deepest respect, Oracle. You are truly blessed with powers."

"I am? Uh, yeah, I guess I am," Iolaus corrected himself as he remembered the spears. "I don't think your being impressed is going to earn me my freedom though, is it?"

"Another prophesy," the flunky breathed in awe.

Iolaus rolled his eyes in exasperation. "That wasn't a prophesy, you dimwit," he snapped without thinking. "That was an observation. Telling you that you were going to trip over a white cat and drop a tray bearing pink and yellow flowers would be a prophesy-"

"-but saying I'm still in trouble doesn't take any special powers," Iolaus finished in annoyance.

"It was, however, an accurate observation," Descarus observed. "I regret having to detain someone of your powers and I shall be generous with gifts as recompense after you have done as I have asked, but for now, you are my honoured - if reluctant - guest. I shall have rooms prepared for you."

"Yeah? Well, make sure the roof's safe," Iolaus growled, "and that the bed's not rotten."

"Check all roofs and beds in the guest chambers," Descarus ordered. "Tell me if there's one with both flaws."

"Me and my big mouth," Iolaus groaned.

oooOooo

"Are you supposed to be mending this roof?"

Hercules sighed, counted to ten, then twisted on the ladder to look down at Athena as she leaned against her spear and watched him with interest. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," he replied with elaborate patience. "I suppose you're going to tell me that I'm doing it wrong?"

"Oh, far be it for me, as the patron goddess of crafts, to tell you how to mend a roof," Athena demurred hastily. "I just thought your mother would appreciate it lasting a bit longer than the first decent rainstorm."

"Critics. I'm surrounded by critics," Hercules grumbled as he climbed down the ladder to see what his stepsister wanted. "I suppose you could slap on the mud, arrange the thatch, weave it into place-" Athena waved an elegant hand and the roof immediately looked brand new. "Or that," Hercules conceded after a long moment. "You could do that. So what brings you here?"

"Iolaus."

"Hah, you're out of luck," Hercules said smugly. "I sent him off to do the grocery shopping."

"Maybe that's what you told him to do, but he's been a little sidetracked."

"Oh-oh. Something tells me you haven't come all the way here to tell me there's a pretty girl and a jug of wine involved," Hercules said ruefully.

"Try a psychotic king, a successful kidnap and the very real possibility of Iolaus' execution and a nasty civil war in the near future," Athena retorted wryly.

"How does he manage it?" Hercules demanded in exasperation, hurriedly rinsing his hands clean in a convenient bucket and wiping them dry. "All he was supposed to do was go and get some vegetables and fresh bread!"

Athena laughed. "You know Iolaus. If there's trouble around, he'll find it. And if he doesn't find it, it will probably find its way to him. Anyway, it wasn't really his fault.... this time."

Hercules gave her a rueful look. "It hardly ever is," he pointed out, "but that doesn't even slow him down, most days. What I want to know is why you've come to warn me."

Athena shrugged. "Seemed like the decent thing to do."

"And?" Hercules prompted.

She gave him a grin and shrugged again. "And I need help to sort out the mess Calyonis has got itself into. Things have been coming to a slow boil of late and Ares is beginning to take an interest. If I don't settle matters as discreetly as possible soon, civil war could break out."

"And Iolaus getting kidnapped has something to do with all this?" Hercules demanded dangerously.

"Haul in the reins, little brother," Athena snapped. "If I'd wanted Iolaus involved, I would have done it and to Tartarus with your high-faluting morals. You might value Iolaus' life over those of thousands of innocents, but I have greater responsibilities. As it so happens, I had nothing to do with this, but I wouldn't be the goddess of tactics if I didn't see an opportunity when it presented itself to me."

"All right, all right," Hercules growled, feeling a little embarrassed over the way he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. "So where do I fit in?"

"Descarus has proved himself to be a fairly good king in the time he's been in power. A little short on patience and he has a tendency to lean towards Ares, but nothing that can't be put right if he's allowed to feel secure in his kingship."

"Which means he has to sit on the throne," Hercules guessed.

"Exactly. Now, Hermes will be keeping an eye on Iolaus and making sure that his reputation as an oracle remains high while I go and get the secret of the throne from Hephaestus. Iolaus tells Descarus the secret, he sits on the throne and his people stop laughing at him. No civil war, no reason for Ares to get interested and I get peace and quiet to carry on my research."

"So why do you need me?" Hercules asked after a moment.

"Well, I might not, but I thought I'd better err on the side of caution," Athena admitted. "Descarus' psych profile indicates that he might decide that it would be safer if only one person knew the secret of the throne. If that happens, Iolaus might need to be rescued pretty smartish."

"But with you and Hermes-"

"If we have to, we will," Athena interrupted, "but I'd really prefer this business to look as though it was accomplished without direct Olympian intervention. Kings who think they have divine backing tend to go off the rails in nothing flat. I don't want to ratify Descarus' reign only to have him turn into some slobbering tyrant!"

"So I'm backup?" Hercules pressed, wary of his sister's sometimes convoluted schemes.

"Yes. Anyway, it will be a lot more in your line than mending a roof seems to be!"

oooOooo

Iolaus awoke to the sound of people muttering somewhere in the near distance. He lay where he was for a moment, trying to remember where he was and whether or not there was the likelihood of a fight looming in the near future. After a couple of minutes he recalled the bizarre events of the previous day and regretfully concluded that he was more likely to be ambushed by confusion rather than anything as normal as a bunch of psychos. Sighing to himself, he rolled over on to his back and opened his eyes.

"He awakes! The great Oracle Iolaus has opened his eyes!"

Sitting up in bed, Iolaus stared at the people who were standing a short distance away, identical expressions of awestruck trepidation on all their faces. For a moment he was tempted to say 'boo!', just to see if they would take to their heels, but he quashed the idea without too much difficulty. He was going to have a hard enough time coping with this problem without having all and sundry fleeing from him in shrieking terror every time he looked at them!

"Morning," he ventured, once he realised that no-one was going to make the first move and talk to him. They continued to stare and Iolaus had to fight a tendency to fidget. "Um, nice day?"

The awe gave way to confusion. "Great Oracle, it is pouring with rain outside," one of the braver servants pointed out.

"Ah, yes, it's raining at the moment," Iolaus said hastily. "I was, ah, speaking of later on."

"Ah," one of the other servants breathed. "A prophecy."

"Well, maybe not so much a full-blown prophecy as a small observation," Iolaus said hastily. "Now, what about breakfast?" he continued hopefully.

"What about breakfast?" the bold servant said.

"Well.... I'd like some," Iolaus said plaintively. "Nothing too elaborate. Maybe a little ale, bread and cheese?"

"Breakfast, my lord Oracle!"

A slim young servant came trotting into the room, a large tray held aloft on one hand. "Some ale, fresh bread and the local cheese for you to savour and enjoy."

"Incredible!" the entire group breathed as one.

Iolaus gave a groan and flopped back on to the bed, trying to work out what in Zeus' name was going on. The servant slid the tray on to the table beside the bed, then leaned over him solicitously.

"Can I get the esteemed Oracle anything else?" he inquired.

The hairs on Iolaus' neck did their best to come to full attention. That voice was terrifyingly familiar, as were the sparkling hazel eyes which gazed down at him guilessly. He gave a squawk of dismay, realising the position he was in, and hastily wriggled across the bed until he was a safe distance away from Hermes - not that being halfway across the world would be much of a protection if the Herald God of Olympus was in a mood to make life miserable for a mortal he.... liked.

"What... what are you doing here?" he managed to squeak after a couple of seconds of trying to get his voice working properly.

Hermes widened his eyes in perfect innocence. "Why, serving the king, as is the honour of all of us, my lord Oracle," he said in pious tones. "Do you have a prophecy for me?" He was definitely laughing at him and Iolaus could feel his temper fraying rapidly. Hermes always seemed to bring out the worst in him in nothing flat.

"You bet your sweet life I do!" he growled. "I prophesy that if you don't get the heck out of here in nothing flat, something downright painful is going to happen to you!"

He'd temporarily forgotten about his audience, but was forcibly reminded of them when they all drew in a low hiss of breath at the same time, managing to sound like an enraged Hydra. Realising how his words must have sounded, he opened his mouth to issue an immediate rebuttal, only to be beaten to the punch by Hermes.

"Oh, say it isn't so!" the herald god wailed, hurling himself dramatically at the foot of Iolaus' bed. "Tell me how I might avert this terrible doom which even now hangs over me! I beg you to use your great powers and intercede with the wise and beneficent gods in order to spare the life of this most worthless and miserable of their worshippers."

Iolaus might have been willing to play along with the theatrics if Hermes hadn't seized the opportunity to grab an exposed foot and start kissing it. Extremely ticklish there, Iolaus gave a yelp and tried to tug free, only to discover that pulling free of a god's grip was a lot easier done in epics than in real life.

"Let go of me, you damn pervert!" he yelled. "You can get struck by lightning for all I care!"

There was an immediate flash of intense light, followed by a clap of thunder. Tugging furiously, Iolaus was taken completely by surprise when he found his ankle released and he practically shot out of the other side of the bed. As he struggled to regain his balance and blink the tears out of his eyes, he heard a great deal of screaming and the sound of thundering feet. Rubbing his eyes free of the flash-blindness, Iolaus gazed around in bewilderment as he saw that he was completely alone. The next thing he saw was the blackened area of the bedding, along with the faint whiff of ozone and smoke.

"Oh, for.... Hermes!" he yelled.

"Yes?" Iolaus gave a yelp of shock as the canopy of the bed above him suddenly acquired a bulge and Hermes' head poked over the edge to give him an inquiring look. "Something I can do for you, my sweeting?"

"I think you've already done enough!" Iolaus swore. "That lot will spread it over the palace that I caused someone to get struck by lightning!"

"Yes, I know. That was the idea I wanted them to get," Hermes said in pleased delight. "That's a very fetching sleeping outfit you've got on, by the way."

Since he had gone to bed in the nude, the comment was calculated to make Iolaus turn a fiery red and automatically pull the sheets around him that little bit more closely. "Is this fiasco one of your little plans to make my life miserable?" he demanded suspiciously.

Hermes adopted an expression which was a nice blend of surprise and wounded dismay. "Iolaus, how can you think such a thing? When did I ever do anything to make your life miserable?"

"Teasing Apollo into turning me into a female?" Iolaus shot back.

Hermes pouted. "Well, how was I to know that my silly brother was going to take me seriously? He hardly ever does, you know. Anyway, I got him to turn you back, didn't I?"

"Eventually," Iolaus conceded through gritted teeth. "What about that time you, Athena and Artemis all hexed me at the same time?"

"We didn't hex you!" Hermes said in affronted professionalism. "Besides, you wouldn't have had so much trouble if that pair of hussies hadn't muscled in on the act at the wrong time. I can't be held responsible for what happened that time. I was acting with the very purest of motives."

"Hah! All right; the time you turned up when I was suffering from amnesia and tried to persuade me that you were a friend!"

"But I am your friend, Iolaus. Truly! Of course, I like to be that little bit more....." Hermes gave a wicked grin as he watched Iolaus squirm and very obviously try to think of something suitably scathing to say. "One day, my little mortal, one day."

"In your dreams!" Iolaus shot back furiously, then blushed even harder when he heard Hermes' delighted gurgle of amusement. "Anyway, why did you want those people to think I'd got you struck by lightning - and don't I wish I had!"

"Ah-ah, don't be petulant," Hermes chided. "Think of it as insurance. Dear old Descarus is going to be less likely to consider your execution if he thinks that will mean he'd be fricasseed by the nearest god straight afterwards."

"You know about Descarus?" Iolaus demanded.

"Uh-huh. Eat your breakfast and I'll tell you all about what's going on," Hermes advised.

oooOooo

The cat lay in wait in the corridor that Hermes had told her that her human target would be coming down some time. Had she been a human, she might have become bored as she waited, but cats had a firm paw on time and weren't about to let the silly concept dictate to them the same way it did to the humans. Really, it was a miracle they'd ever muddled along before felines had taken them briskly in hand and started the training programme. Drowsing quietly to herself and dreaming of all the catnip she had managed to browbeat Hermes into agreeing to supply her, she allowed time to slip past her with careful speed.

When the proper human finally made an appearance, trotting along the corridor with his tray piled up with freshly cut flowers, she yawned, stretched in the intermediate form, and jumped down to position herself in readiness. Just as the human came alongside the cranny she had oozed herself into, she gathered herself and then shot out into his path with just the right degree of readiness.

He dodged around her.

She braked to a halt and stared after him as he receded into the distance. A quick poke around his aura turned up the ownership brand of two other cats, strangers to her. Well, no wonder he managed to dodge me! she thought with annoyance as she slid past him via a handy arris and legged it further up the corridor. He's been trained not to fall over his owners. Hermes really should have told me! Muttering to herself, she skidded to a halt at the top of some stairs and waited. Just let him try and dodge her now!

Although cats were not, as a rule, fond of noise, the resulting row made by servant and tray tumbling down the shallow flight of stairs was extremely satisfying, since it heralded several weeks of being stoned out of her mind on high-grade catnip. She waited only as long as it took a couple of the other humans to notice her - Hermes had set great store by people seeing her, for some reason - before she withdrew gracefully and set about working out which of her current paramours she was going to invite for a little R&R later on.

oooOooo

"So all I have to do is wait until Athena gets me the secret, tell King Descarus what it is, and then delicately remind him that people who annoy me tend to get zapped by lightning bolts?" Iolaus summarised as he polished off the last of the breakfast.

"Exactly," Hermes beamed at him fondly.

"Something's going to go wrong," Iolaus said gloomily.

Hermes laughed. "Highly unlikely," he disagreed. "With Athena and myself on the case, the chances of anything going wrong are so tiny only a god would notice them. You may have a reputation for being an infallible oracle, Iolaus, but trust me, you can't foresee for real worth a damn!"

oooOooo

Athena prided herself on being one of the most reasonable of all the Olympian deities, but there were times when she forgot herself and bellowed with the best of them. Hephaestus winced as her yell bounced and echoed all around his summer forge. He'd never noticed the lousy acoustics until now.

"Well?" she demanded, mercifully at a lower tone.

"Well what?" Hephaestus growled back. "It's my throne. If I don't want to divulge the secret, I don't see why you think you can just come in here and bully it out of me."

"Bul..." Athena paused and pulled in a deep breath. "I wasn't bullying you! I just asked you for the secret in order to prevent the civil war that's brewing."

Hephaestus shrugged and limped back to his forge. "Humans are always warring with one another for some reason or another. Why should I get involved the way the rest of you do?"

Athena swallowed the impulse to grab him by the scruff of his neck and give him a good shaking. She might be strong, but Hephaestus had the muscle of any smith, backed up with the power of being the get of both Hera and Zeus. Because Heffy tended to shun the company of the other gods, most of them forgot just how powerful he was. Besides, Athena preferred to use physical violence as the absolutely last resort.

"Look, I know you don't think much of the infighting that goes on amongst us and, truth to tell, I agree with you by and large. One thing I do know about you, brother, is that you're not a cruel god and you never punish unless you think you have good cause." She wondered at the faint look of unease which passed across his face at that point, but decided to ignore it as irrelevant. "Why permit the deaths of countless innocents in a needless war when a simple answer to a question could avert it? Has Descarus offended you in some way?"

"No. He's actually been quite generous in his sacrifices since he came to power," Hephaestus admitted.

"Wants you to tell him the secret," Athena pointed out. "Come on, Heffy. How can it hurt?" For a moment she thought he was wavering, then he shook his head.

"No."

"But-" Athena stopped as a possible solution occurred to her. She was tempted to dismiss it as ridiculous, but it wouldn't go away and eventually she realised that she had to ask. "Hephaestus, you do remember the secret, don't you?" There was an unintelligible mumble from the smith. "Hephaestus?!"

"Look, it was a couple of hundred years ago, it was a rush job and it was right in the middle of my trying to remember where I'd put that Shield of Amnesia Hestia'd ordered from me. I wasn't at my best," Hephaestus said helplessly.

"So why don't you look it up?" Athena pressed. "Surely you keep records?"

Hephaestus snorted. "Sure I do. What's that got to do with anything?"

Athena gave him a baffled look. "Is that statement supposed to make sense?" she demanded. "If you keep records..."

"Oh, Tartarus," Hephaestus growled. "Come here." He led her across to where a large door was set into the rocky wall. "You want to find out the secret from my records? Fine, you do that. Me, I've got better things to do with my time."

So saying, he pulled open the heavy door with a flourish. Stepping forward, Athena caught a glimpse of what looked like a pale mountain falling towards her and she raised her hands instinctively to protect her face. The next thing she knew, she was being bombarded by hundreds of scrolls and tiny clay tablets as they descended to the floor after being released from their prison. After several minutes, things calmed down again and Athena found herself nearly waist-deep in a pile of all kinds of records.

"This is your filing system?" she demanded incredulously.

Hephaestus snorted. "No, these are my records. I never said anything about having a filing system. I've never got around to developing one. That's something I've been meaning to do for a while but I never seem to have the time."

"But.... how do you ever find anything?" Athena demanded, contrasting the chaos with her own, well-ordered system.

Her half-brother gave her the crooked grin which he never seemed to realise was so attractive. "That's easy. I wait until someone else is desperate enough to find something out, then tell them to find it themselves."

"You do what? You mean you expect me to- Hephaestus, that is downright sneaky!" she spluttered in surprise. When he simply shrugged and continued to grin at her, Athena found herself smiling back without realising it. Surrendering to the inevitable, she waded her way out of the pile of paper and tablets, and changed into her more practical working clothes. "Okay, so this is going to take a little longer than I'd anticipated," she muttered. "Let's hope Hermes is up to a few more delaying tactics."

oooOooo

"Did you have to tell the guards they were purple-skinned sons of sheep?" Hermes complained vociferously as he floated a few feet ahead of Iolaus down the corridor leading to the hunter's temporary quarters. "Have you any idea how much energy it takes to pull off a stunt like that without actually hurting the mortals involved? And as for your prophesy that three dozen black dragons will shortly fly over the palace in serried ranks of six...."

Iolaus grinned at him, secure in the knowledge that Hermes was currently too harassed to think of doing anything outrageous to him. "I thought you'd appreciate a challenge," he smirked.

"A challenge!" Hermes all but screamed. "Have you any idea how difficult it is to get those independently minded reptiles to do anything together? I am going to have to make soooo many concessions. And I don't even know if there are three dozen black dragons!" he finished indignantly.

"Never mind, Hermes," Iolaus soothed. "It shouldn't take too many additional bribes to get them to dye their skin."

"Ooooh, if you weren't so cute-" Hermes began threateningly.

"My Lord Oracle!"

The young serving maid gave a nervous yelp as she came out of a room to find herself practically nose to nose with the latest and most exalted of the king's guests. Rumours were rife about this particular man, but all she was really aware of now she was this close was his charming smile and brilliant eyes. Her initial alarm at being this close to the great Oracle didn't last very long and she was giggling to herself when she eventually left to go and spread some additional new gossip amongst the staff.

Gazing after her fondly, it belatedly occurred to Iolaus that Hermes had vanished. While this wasn't exactly unusual, he would have thought that the occasionally jealous herald god would have been more likely to turn himself into something and hang around to make life difficult for Iolaus, rather than have the tact and discretion to haul himself off.

"And what does that hussy have that I don't?" inquired a frosty - if oddly muffled - voice.

"The right sex, for a start," Iolaus shot back, looking around to see if he could spot the god. "Where are you? You sound a bit odd."

He broke off when he suddenly focused on the brightly coloured frieze which ran the entire length of the corridor wall. It depicted all kinds of people in a gay procession, loaded down with fruit, flowers and various gifts on their way to a temple. The art was extremely stylized, so it took Iolaus a couple of minutes to realise that it was Hermes depicted striding alongside a cart with a tray of fruit on his head.

"Nice headgear," he commented.

The painted eye glared at him before a shimmer of light preceded Hermes detaching himself from the wall. Iolaus caught the apple the herald tossed at him and sniffed it suspiciously before biting into it. For something which had been paint and plaster a couple of seconds before, it tasted delicious.

"You," Hermes said severely, shaking an admonishing bunch of grapes at him, "are milking this for all it's worth."

"Uh-huh," Iolaus agreed, grinning. "How often do I get to make life difficult for the patron god of mischief?"

"I'll make you pay," Hermes warned, a glint in his eye.

Iolaus shrugged. "You always make me pay, even when I haven't done anything to deserve it," he pointed out. "I might as well get some fun in before the thunderbolt falls."

"Oh, believe me, a thunderbolt is going to be the least of your worries when this is over, my sweeting," Hermes purred throatily as he popped a couple of grapes into his mouth and absent-mindedly turned the others into wine which descended in a sparkling stream into the pair of delicate glass goblets he materialised. "I never bother with something as crass as thunderbolts. I prefer a more.... subtle... revenge."

For a brief instant, Iolaus wondered if he might not have gone just that little bit too far, then he shrugged and accepted the goblet Hermes offered him. Live for the moment and let tomorrow take care of itself. It might not be the safest of mottoes to live by, but it meant he was never, ever, bored!

Besides, the news Athena had sent sounded as though he was going to be in the oracle business for a touch longer than anyone had planned and a prophet just had to keep his audience entertained, didn't he?

"Why does that look in your eye look so damned familiar?" Hermes demanded, a faint expression of worry crossing his face.

Iolaus' smirk got bigger. "Looked in a mirror lately?" he inquired sweetly.

oooOooo

"How's it going?" Hephaestus inquired as he brought Athena a frosty goblet of nectar to drink.

The goddess of wisdom and tactics glared at him. "Have you ever bothered to put these records in order before?" she demanded.

Hephaestus shrugged. "I took a stab at it a few thousand years ago, I think," he said.

"Which alphabet did you decide to follow when you were doing it?" she demanded.

"I don't think I bothered with an alphabet," Hephaestus admitted after a moment's thought. "There were so many I think I gave it up as a bad job and went by source material and end result."

"Oh," Athena said a little blankly. "And that made it easier for you to find the details again?"

"Don't be silly," Hephaestus laughed. "It just made the mess look a little neater, that's all." He paused and gazed at his sister in deep concern. "Um, Athena, I made that goblet, you know," he said apologetically. "It won't show any teeth marks no matter how hard you try and bite it!"

oooOooo

"Artemis, do you know where I can find a dog-headed hydra?"

Almost drowning in her bath as Hermes' impetuous entrance startled her, Artemis floundered her way back up to the surface, then pushed back her sopping hair and glowered at him impatiently. "I wish you'd learn to warn people before you come barging in like that!" she snapped crossly.

"Why?" Hermes demanded curiously. "You know I'm not going to try and take advantage of you like some of the others might. I respect your decision to remain a virgin."

Artemis gave a snort and sank back down into the water. "You respect the fact that you'd get an arrow up your backside if you tried anything," she shot back. "Still, it shows you have more intelligence than some people I could mention."

"Ah," Hermes said wisely, settling down beside the bath. "Ares giving you a bad time again?"

"Ares can't do anything but give people a bad time," Artemis growled, "but yes, as it happens, you're right. He started a war which went right through one of my sacred grounds and wiped out an entire ecosystem. It's going to take me centuries to get things back to normal and in the meantime I have to figure out a way to suitably punish the stupid mortals involved. I hate having to do that. I always get it wrong and either do too little or too much."

"Still rattled about Actaeon, aren't you, little one?" Hermes said sympathetically.

"I just wanted to turn him into a deer," she mumbled unhappily. "I forgot he had his hounds with him and they'd mortally wounded him before I could reverse the curse. I didn't mean for him to die."

"I know you didn't, Missy. It's difficult to remember just how fragile these mortals are, sometimes. Tell you what, why don't I think of some suitable punishment for this latest bunch and you can invoke it in your name?"

"Would you? You come up with such neat punishments," Artemis observed enthusiastically.

"No problem," Hermes said confidently. "Now, about that dog-headed hydra?"

"Why would you want a dog-headed hydra?" Artemis wondered, then she laughed. "Oh, let me guess; Iolaus?"

"Iolaus," Hermes sighed. "Delicious mortal though he is, he is really pushing it."

"What's the latest prediction?" Artemis giggled.

Hermes rolled his eyes. "That a dog-headed hydra shall lie down with a serpent-tailed woman where the borders between Calydon and Corinth meet. The serpent-tailed woman was no problem; one of the chthones owes me a favour and agreed to do it. I can't seem to find a dog-headed hydra, though. I was hoping you knew where there was one, otherwise I'll have to create one and that'll probably mean trouble from Hercules. He has a real thing about hydras, you know?"

"Never mind, brother," Artemis soothed. "As it so happens, there is a dog-headed hydra around which my dear half-brother hasn't got around to slaughtering yet and I can not only tell you where he is but give you an introduction. Let me get out of this bath and into some clothes."

Hermes eyed her slender form as she got out and smiled to himself. "You know, if you ever did decide to give up on the virgin goddess bit, I know this idyllic little spot in the Pacific which is just so perfect for a little recreational activity...."

Artemis smiled at him as she slipped into one of her favourite short tunics. "Thanks for the thought, brother, but I think I'll stick to celibacy. It leads to fewer complications."

"Ah, but the complications are half the fun, big sister," Hermes laughed. "The complications are half the fun."

oooOooo

Iolaus shifted restlessly and studied his reflection in the tall bronze mirror gloomily. It was all very well for King Descarus to decide that his chief oracle should dress the part, but Iolaus had never been the kind of person to feel comfortable in formal robes. Especially formal robes so thickly encrusted in gold and silver embroidery that it was difficult to see what colour the outfit was originally.

"Do you have something a little less, well, ostentatious?" he asked a little desperately.

"Ah! My lord would prefer to go for the subtle, mysterious look!" the dresser exclaimed rapturously, clasping his hands together in delight before scuttling off muttering something about 'the latest fashion'.

Iolaus sighed to himself and gave his reflection another disparaging look. How these kings could bear to walk around loaded down with so much material was beyond him. He'd tolerated it for a time when he had taken his cousin's place, but he'd taken every opportunity to change into the simpler and more comfortable designs he had found in Orestes' wardrobe. It didn't look like he was going to get that chance here.

The strange fussy little man reappeared, his arms draped with a variety of cloths. Iolaus' eye was caught by a flash of deep, sumptuous blue and he had reached out and grabbed the robe before he quite realised what he had done. The heavy folds of velvet cascaded around his hands, caressing his skin and catching the light in a slow burn of sapphire.

"Sir has excellent taste," the servant purred. "Allow me to help him put it on."

"Er, no! I mean, I can manage," Iolaus said nervously. "There was something about this little man which reminded him of Hermes, and while he was pretty certain it wasn't the god, Iolaus hadn't lived this long by pushing his luck too far.

It didn't take long to change and Iolaus' eyes widened as he took a look at himself in the mirror. This was definitely a grade up from the overblown tawdriness of the previous gowns. There wasn't a speck of decoration anywhere on the gown apart from an involved silver spiral motif edging the deep neckline, but the material itself was enough to catch and hold the eye. He tightened the silver cord belt and nodded in satisfaction.

"This one."

"Oh, yes!"

That definitely wasn't the fussy little man and Iolaus whirled around to discover Hermes lounging on the bed and gazing at him in deep fascination. The slave was frozen in place, a foolish little simper on his face which Iolaus was pretty certain he hadn't been supposed to see. Not that he cared. He was too busy keeping a wary eye on a bigger menace.

"You're back," he observed.

"And quick on the uptake with it," Hermes laughed. "As if I could stay away from your luscious body for long."

Iolaus threw him a glare. "I wish you wouldn't keep saying things like that!" he growled. "People might hear."

"So what if they do?" Hermes shrugged. "I'm not ashamed of our love-"

"What love?" Iolaus screamed.

"Oh, you are such a pedantic realist when the mood takes you," Hermes pouted. "I've a good mind to get Eros or Cupid to cast a spell on you."

"Fine. Just don't come running to me when Hercules throws a fit and makes your life a misery," Iolaus retorted. "He told me you'd promised him not to use spells to make me do something I don't want to."

"Oh, he told you, did he? Rats," Hermes sulked. "Oh, well, I guess I'll just have to woo you and win you the old-fashioned way, then."

"I wouldn't count on it," Iolaus said dryly. "How's the oracle-fulfilment business going?"

Hermes rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine, if you ignore the fact that the dog-headed hydra and serpent-tailed woman you fixed up took one look at one another and started billing and cooing like nobody's business. I anticipate receiving an invitation to the wedding any time soon and goodness knows what kind of gift would be considered appropriate!"

"You're kidding," Iolaus gaped at him.

"No, I am not kidding!" Hermes snapped. "The sooner we get you out of the oracle business, the better! You're more trouble than a cartload of sybils!"

"I thought of a really good one this afternoon," Iolaus informed him, smiling wickedly.

Smiling back without thinking, Hermes suddenly registered what the hunter had said and gave him an appalled look. "You didn't!"

"Oh, yes, and even though I say it myself, it was a beauty," Iolaus purred.

The herald-god flopped back on the bed, slapping a hand across his eyes. "I don't want to know," he moaned. "You're going to go down in history as the person who killed me, you know. All right," he growled, lifting the hand to give Iolaus an old-fashioned look. "What have you landed me in this time?"

"Well, I was chatting to the king, friendly-like, when he mentioned that his country has always felt the lack of a decent harbour. Seems that a king a few centuries ago managed to offend Poseidon and he silted up the one good harbour they had."

"Poseidon," Hermes said blankly. "You're going to make me involve Poseidon?"

"Hey, shouldn't be too big a job for someone who's always going on about the value of talking problems out," Iolaus pointed out virtuously. "It's not like the king isn't prepared to make a handsome sacrifice to Poseidon. A new temple, even. All he needs is someone to do the preliminary negotiations for him and naturally I thought of you."

"Oh, naturally," Hermes echoed sarcastically. "How can I contain my joy at being the one you thought of."

Iolaus grinned at him impudently. "I'm sure you'll manage it," he said as demurely as he could, then spoilt it by laughing as Hermes gave a strangled growl and vanished in a miniature hurricane of tiny silver feathers. "Yeah, I'm going to pay, but gods, it's worth it!"

His good mood lasted another hour and then vanished when Prateus made a nervous appearance. "Uh, greetings, my Lord Oracle?" he said a little diffidently. "No doubt you already know why I am here?"

Iolaus sighed and rolled his eyes. "What say we pretend I don't and you just tell me?" he suggested.

After a moment of confusion, Prateus managed a strangled laugh. "I fear the Lord Oracle sees fit to toy with me," he whinged. "You must know that I have been sent to summon you into Descarus' presence."

"Oh, yeah, of course I did," Iolaus muttered in exasperation. "After all, I'm never wrong, right? So if I prophesy that your daughter's going to give birth to a toad, well that's just the luck of the draw, right?"

"Daughter?" Prateus stared at him in bemusement. "But my lord, I don't have a daughter."

Iolaus had figured out this oracle business by now and he fixed Prateus with a steely look as he walked past him. "Ah-ah, Prateus, don't think you can conceal the truth from me. There was that serving wench in that tavern the day you got so drunk...." He let his voice trail away suggestively, knowing that the reference had been so general it would cover any number of occasions. He then strode briskly down the corridor towards the throne room, grinning at the squawk of horror which came from the horrified Prateus.

oooOooo

"I hate waiting," Hercules muttered to himself as he stared moodily down into his mug of milk. "And I really hate waiting when Iolaus isn't around to take my mind of the fact that I hate waiting!"

"Ooh, look, he's talking to his milk!" came a nasally voice right behind him.

"Wonder if it's going to moo back at him?" sniped a hoarse voice right back.

Hercules sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing what he was going to see when he turned around. There was a pair like this in every tavern throughout Greece, probably throughout the world, and they never seemed to learn. At least Iolaus wasn't around to take umbrage and start a fight. Turning round, he started to make a suitably soothing statement, then paused as he had to look up to meet their truculent gazes.

"Oh-oh, this may get a little nasty," he muttered under his breath.

"And now he's talking to himself!" the first giant mocked. "Does he sound like the kind of customer we want to encourage, Lou?"

"Absolutely not, Sou," the second giant snorted.

"Lou and Sou?" Hercules echoed incredulously.

"Yeah, that's us. Lou, Sou and Chou, the Ou Twins."

"Uh, you gave me three names," Hercules pointed out cautiously.

Lou shrugged. "Midwife couldn't count. Neither could our mother. Now, shrimp, what say we pound your head into your shoulders and then throw you out through the wall?"

Hercules gave a wry smile. "Can't say that appeals," he admitted.

"Oh. Okay, we'll rip your arms out of their sockets and make you eat them, then use you to clean the floor of slops come closing time."

"Had that done a couple of weeks ago. I don't like to repeat myself."

"Boy, you're a fussy little thing," Sou observed. "I think we should just bounce you around the place until you go all tender and then we can feed you to Mou-mou."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but who's Mou-mou?" Hercules nearly leapt out of his skin as a dog the size of a small horse suddenly appeared and gave him the kind of grin even a Hydra would approve of.

"Mou-mou's our dog," Lou said proudly. "She a pedigree poodle."

"Really. You must be very pleased with her," Hercules said nervously as he eyed the teeth which were practically in his face. "Look, guys, I really don't want any trouble. I'm just passing some time while I wait for my sister to tell me I'm needed. I'd be willing to buy you all a drink to show there's no hard feelings."

"Hah! You're just trying to get out of being killed," Lou chortled. "We're not falling for it."

"Oh, for...." Hercules rolled his eyes in frustration. There were definite advantages to having Iolaus around when situations like this came up. For one thing, it meant that Hercules got introduced without having to announce himself. He hated to do that; it always sounded like he was boasting. "Look, I don't think you realise who you're tangling with," he continued a little desperately.

"Sure we do. Short loony who's scared to fight," Sou chortled.

Hercules paused to take a deep breath, realising why it was that Iolaus so often came to the boil when people kept going on about his height. "My name is Hercules," he said through gritted teeth.

"Haw! Is not," Lou scoffed. "Hercules is son of Zeus. You is son of flea."

That did it. "You take that back!" Hercules yelled.

"And son of puny flea, at that," Sou laughed.

Hercules forgot all about being bored and threw the first punch.

oooOooo

Iolaus knew he was in trouble the moment he set foot in the throne room. For a start the place was fully lit, torches set in all the sconces and showing the vast room in all its glory. A room which was filled to capacity with all the rich and great of the kingdom, judging from the amount of expensive clothes and jewellery on display. Guards dressed in their parade finery escorted Iolaus to the foot of the great dias where Descarus was standing, decked in enough gold to feed a province for a year.

"You sent for me, King Descarus?"

The king glowered down at him. "It has been said that I am delaying the inevitable," he growled, transferring his glare to the room at large. "That I have been putting off the moment when I demand the secret of the throne for fear that I shall be denied it."

Oh-oh. Iolaus mentally cursed the gossip-mongers who never seemed to think that things were so bad that they couldn't be made just that little bit worse. "If any think that, then they are fools, your majesty," he said soothingly. "I, of all people, can say with certainty that a pause for reflection and purification can do no harm and do great good instead." Mainly because it'll give Athena more time to find the damn secret! he finished silently.

"That may be," Descarus shot back, "but I have never been one to back down when my courage has been questioned. You will ask the gods to supply the secret of the throne here and now, before all these witnesses, so that no-one will be able to so slander me again or think my ascendancy to be some trick."

Iolaus forced a smile when he really felt like swearing and throwing the mother of all tantrums. It didn't look like Hermes had realised what was happening and without the herald-god around to maintain Iolaus' aura of infallibility, the blond was going to have to watch every word he said.

"The gods work to their own plans, King Descarus," Iolaus pointed out carefully. "Not even the greatest of oracles may demand their attention."

Descarus leaned forward and gave him a smile devoid of any humour. "Not even when the life of that oracle depends on it?" he asked sweetly.

Iolaus caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye as guards moved up on either side of him. He gave a grimace of disgust. It looked like this was it, but he would be damned if he went down without some kind of fight. He bowed again. You could never do too much bowing where stroppy kings were concerned.

"As your majesty commands. Since I shall be commanding the gods' attention, though, I shall need to go through certain rituals before I ask the question."

Descarus eyed him narrowly for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. "Fair enough. You shall have anything you ask within reason."

Pulling in a deep breath, Iolaus did some fast thinking and rapped out his requests. He had no idea what a real oracle would ask for in these circumstances. Every oracle he had ever met seemed to have a different method of divination and since the only one he had ever known to be consistently accurate had used no props at all, Iolaus was of the opinion that the show was more a psychological prop than any real help in the soothsaying business.

Right now he was treading a fine line between buying time and pushing his luck and he kept a wary eye on Descarus as he examined the items the guards were sent to collect for him. Unfortunately Hermes had still not put in an appearance by the time the king started to frown and Iolaus gauged he had delayed the beginning of the 'ceremony' long enough.

Lighting the brazier and bringing the coals to glowing life took more time but Iolaus was no stranger to grandstanding and effectively kept everyone's attention with an eerie chant and strange dancing. The courtiers weren't to know that the dance was something which had been all the rage in some of the nomadic tribes to the north of Greece, while the 'chant' was actually a long list of ingredients for a love-potion from one of the barbarian countries Iolaus had visited in his youth. It looked good and it sounded weird and that was the important thing.

Eventually the coals were glowing a cheerful red and Iolaus moved into the second stage of his delaying tactics. Picking up one of the branches of bay he had requested, Iolaus thrust it into the brazier. The branch, bone dry and resinous with the summer heat, promptly burst into flames and Iolaus dropped it back on to the brazier with a yelp of surprise he managed to turn into a mystic wail at the last moment. Mentally cursing the stupid thing, he doused the next branch in scented water and had the satisfaction of seeing it burn with a pungent and dark smokiness.

"Is this strictly necessary?" Descarus coughed as Iolaus proceeded to walk the circumference of the throne room, waving the branch to create short-lived symbols in smoke.

"I am purifying the room to prepare it for the presence of the gods, my King," Iolaus informed him glibly. "This is but one step to discovering the path to your sitting on the throne."

The timely reminder settled Descarus and he waved Iolaus on a little glumly, doing his best to rub the smoke out of his eyes in a regal fashion. Some of the other courtiers were a lot less discreet and Iolaus took a certain satisfaction in watching them wheeze and wave the smoke aside, then freeze as they remembered it was supposed to be holy smoke and thrust their faces back into it. He could only do this for so long, though, so he had better come up with something else to do and hope Hermes would get his butt in gear.

oooOooo

By the time Athena arrived, the tavern brawl had spilled out to include the entire village. Long-held grievances had ignited into a glorious free-for-all and just about everyone, down to the pre-adolescent kids, was doing their best to pound in the heads of anyone dumb enough to come within range. Athena stood and stared in astonishment, wondering if Strife or Discord had somehow slipped their leashes, but the atmosphere wasn't tainted with their special kind of venom and she eventually concluded that this was just another example of mortals taking any and every opportunity to mix it.... as her bimbo sister would say.

Clearing her throat and drawing herself up into her full sight, Athena materialised fully. "Stop this at once!" she commanded forcefully.

She very nearly got flattened by a burly man fleeing a group of screaming women.

"Hey!" she yelped indignantly, upgrading the force of her Olympian aura and putting a little immortal radiance about her slender form. "You will cease and desist this minute," she rumbled, "or suffer my wrath."

A couple of people did pause and gaze at her in dumbfounded amazement, but since they were immediately knocked senseless by those who hadn't noticed her, Athena couldn't help but think that wasn't much use. Her temper, already worn a little thin by her fruitless hunt through Hephaestus' records, started to boil over. If these mortals were so intent on waging war, then she'd see how they'd react to a personal visit by the goddess of tactics and battle wisdom.

"ENOUGH!" she bellowed, pulling her full regalia around her and ramming her spear against the ground.

The air itself shuddered and the earth trembled under the full weight of her anger and every single mortal within range froze before falling to their knees. Even if they weren't exactly sure who she was, they knew they had a ticked-off deity on their hands and a little honest grovelling never went amiss on such occasions.

"That's better," Athena growled once she was certain she had everyone's attention. "Now, who started this?"

In perfect synchronisation, nearly a hundred mortals all pivoted and pointed in the same direction. "HE did!" they chorused.

Athena didn't approve of gawping, but she distinctly felt her jaw hit the ground as she stared at the man everyone had fingered. "You?" she demanded of Hercules. "You started this fight?"

The demi-god shifted from foot to foot and did his best to look innocent. "It was an honest misunderstanding," he mumbled.

"Oh, yes?" Athena hadn't meant to sound so disbelieving but her half-brother flushed at her tone.

"All right, so the overgrown bozos insulted me!" he yelled. "Aren't I allowed to take exception to the occasional insult?"

"Not when you can throw the insulter through the wall, no," Athena shot back. "Are the, ah, 'bozos' all right?"

"Yes, they're fine," Hercules growled. "They threw me through the wall, instead."

Athena stared at him and frantically tried to keep a straight face. It wasn't often that her heroic half-brother found himself on the receiving end in a tavern brawl and it was perhaps regrettable that her chief impulse was to lean against her spear and howl with laughter. Fortunately for her dignity - and her continuing relationship with Hercules - she recalled why she had come for him and sobered rapidly.

"Be that as it may, but you have work to do," she said briskly, discarding most of her regalia. The mortals heaved a sigh of relief, correctly interpreting this as a sign that they weren't about to become toast.

"Iolaus is in trouble?" Hercules demanded anxiously.

"Up to his neck in it, as usual," Athena said grimly. "He sent Hermes off on some mission to Poseidon just before Descarus decided he'd waited long enough and he wanted the secret of the throne right now. I've sent a message to Hermes, but I'm not sure we can buy any more time. You may need to stage a last-minute and dramatic rescue."

"No problem," Hercules said grimly as he joined her. "I specialise in them, especially when Iolaus is involved."

oooOooo

"Enough, Oracle! Either you tell me the secret of the throne or I put you to death. Speak or die!"

Iolaus paused in the middle of examining the seeds of a sacrificed pomegranate and realised he'd run out of options. A subtle reminder to the king that lightning bolts tended to home in on people who made life unpleasant for the oracle had bought him an extra half hour, but by now the entire court was restless and scenting a trick. Either he made a prophecy or he died. Or, since he hadn't the faintest chance of getting things right, he did both.

"Very well, King Descarus. I must stand before the throne and make my appeal to Hephaestus."

"Do so," Descarus said shortly as he stepped down from the dias.

Doing his best to swallow the dry lump which had persisted in lodging itself in his throat, Iolaus walked up the steps until he was standing directly before the throne. Raising his arms, he bowed awkwardly and wondered what he should say. Hephaestus wasn't known as a vindictive god. Perhaps one last desperate plea might do the trick?

"Hephaestus, great artificer and maker of wonders. We stand before your gift to the people of Calyonis to make due reverence to yourself and ask that you recognise King Descarus as the lawful ruler of Calyonis and its people."

The throne suddenly lit up, a deep reddish-gold colour which reminded Iolaus of winter fires. The people behind him all sucked in their breath and a strong rustle of sound indicated that they had all taken an involuntary step backwards. Even though the colour was that of heat, Iolaus could feel nothing where he stood and he did his best to gather his scattered wits.

"While it is true that Descarus seized Calyonis by force, his has not been the hand of a tyrant since he has come to power." That was actually true; by the standards of the time, Descarus had been pretty restrained. "It is now the will of the people that he be king in the eyes of all by sitting himself on the Throne of Righteousness, a boon we now beg of you."

The throne promptly started glittering and glowing with all the colours of the rainbow. Iolaus barely had time to squeeze his eyes shut before the light seemed to get sucked back into the throne and it went back to being an artifact of metal and gemstones. Not sure of the significance of what had just happened but very certain that he had just pushed his luck as far as it could go, Iolaus turned back to bow to Descarus.

"My lord King, please take your throne."

Iolaus wasn't the only one holding his breath as Descarus ascended the steps once more. Nobody seemed to be breathing as the king paused at the top and turned to face everyone. If he was feeling any trepidation, it didn't show on the craggy face and, after a single heartbeat's hesitation, Descarus lowered himself on to the throne.

The silence held for another couple of seconds, then it dawned on everyone that Descarus wasn't leaping to his feet and howling for water. Indeed, a large grin was gradually forcing its way past the formal visage and plastering itself all over his face. Another second and the king settled himself back against the back of the throne and smirked.

Pandemonium immediately erupted, with everyone yelling that they had known all along and thumping one another on the back and bellowing good wishes to their king. Descarus was deaf to everything, the look on his face one of sheer bliss as he sat and patted the arms of the throne like they were favoured pets. Iolaus had sank down to sit on one of the steps, too dazed with relief to do more than wave a regal hand as several people bobbed respectful bows in his direction and heaped extravagant praises on his head. All he could do was breathe a fervent prayer of thanks to whichever god or goddess had seen fit to have mercy on him.

The sound of the doors to the throne room bursting open barely made a dent in the wild celebration, but the sight of an angry Hercules ploughing his way through the crowd roused Iolaus as nothing else would. He was so relieved to see his friend that he clean forgot about his long robe, leapt to his feet and promptly tripped, nearly landing nose-first at the foot of the steps. Fortunately a strong arm was there to catch him before he ruined his good looks.

"Thanks," he gasped. "I owe you-aaah!" he finished as he realised who had caught him.

"I'd tell you not to mention it, except I like having certain people owing me favours," Hermes grinned. "Don't worry, sweeting, I take payment in kind."

"Get your lecherous hands off me, Hermes!" Iolaus screamed, shaking himself free and making for Hercules at a rate of knots. "Herc, make him leave me alone!"

Despite his concern, Hercules couldn't help grinning at the plaintive note in Iolaus' voice. Since he had a strong suspicion that Hermes' original lechery had turned into genuine affection for the blond mortal, he never really worried about Hermes taking advantage of Iolaus. It did give Hercules a wonderful edge when it came to keeping Iolaus in line, though, which was why he had never really made Hermes promise to stay away from him.

"You should thank Hermes for coming in time to make the throne safe," he chided him.

Iolaus scowled, giving him the kind of look the Trojans probably gave the Greeks as they came out of the wooden horse. Before he could steel himself to hand himself over metaphorically to Hermes, however, the herald-god forestalled him.

"I'd love to take the credit for saving Iolaus' delectable skin, Hercules, but I only got back in time to find everyone celebrating."

"You did?" Hercules blinked at him, then turned to look at Athena.

"Don't look at me, little brother," she said. "I told you I didn't manage to find the secret out from Hephaestus."

"Maybe Heffy worked it out after you left and did the business," Hermes suggested. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter, does it? All's well that ends well and all that."

"It does look as though things will work out from now on," Athena observed, watching the courtiers rally round to start an impromptu party. Both she and Hermes had shielded themselves from mortal eyes so no-one had recognised them as emissaries from Olympus. "I think now would be a good time to withdraw, before anyone else starts to demand a prophecy from the Great Oracle."

"Not me," Iolaus shook his head emphatically. "Being an oracle is a lot harder work than I thought."

"Excuse me?" Hermes demanded indignantly. "You think it was hard work? It was I who had to carry out all those insane prophecies of yours and I can tell you that Poseidon was not the least bit happy to have me arrive with that stupid idea of yours. Poseidon set his cuttlefish on me!"

"Oooh, that sounds dangerous," Iolaus mocked.

Hermes glared at him. "Poseidon's cuttlefish are the size of warhorses and have beaks of iron," he snapped back.

"Oh." Iolaus had the grace to look abashed for all of ten seconds, then he bounced back with a shrug. "Never mind, Hermes. At least you won't have to do any oracle-fulfilling for a while."

"Damn straight I won't," the herald-god muttered. "Come on," he said, ushering the others out of the throne room and towards the palace entrance. "I know this really wonderful place where we can have a victory celebration of our own. Good food, fabulous views over the bay and the cutest little musicians you've ever heard or seen. My treat."

Hercules was aware of Iolaus vigorously shaking his head in denial when they were all distracted by the rather breathless arrival of Hephaestus. The god's opening remarks changed to a yelp as he failed to kill his forward momentum and ran head on into the wall. The entire palace shook momentarily and the smith-god rubbed his forehead as he staggered back.

"Zeus, this translation business takes more practice than you'd think," he muttered.

"Hiya, Hephaestus," Hermes said cheerfully. "Come to join in with the celebrations?"

"What celebrations?" Hephaestus asked in bewilderment. "I just came to tell Athena that I managed to remember the secret of the throne."

All four gave him uncertain looks. "Um, we know that, Heffy," Athena said cautiously. "You've already turned it off, right?"

"Me? No, I can't do that," Hephaestus protested. "It has to be done by a mortal. I designed the throne for mortals so I designed it so it could only be activated or deactivated by mortals. Why?"

"Well-"

"What's the secret?" Athena interrupted Hermes.

"Oh, well I thought I'd keep it simple, because we're dealing with mortals, after all, and they can never keep complicated instructions straight after a while. I just fixed it so that the throne was activated by the king saying he was either in danger or going off to war, and it got deactivated either by the king telling it that everything was all right or, if the king got himself killed, by the person crowning the next king verifying that he had the people's permission to rule."

"That's it?" Hermes demanded incredulously. "That's all it took? Someone telling the stupid thing that there was a new king?"

"Well it worked, didn't it?" Hephaestus sniffed. "Kept you two tangled up. How'd you work it out in the end?"

"We didn't," Athena laughed. "Iolaus did it all by himself." She reached out to ruffle the blond's hair, grinning down at him affectionately. Iolaus found himself smiling back, then yelped as Hermes growled in his ear.

"Don't do that," he demanded crossly, then yelped again as Hermes promptly blew in his ear instead. "And don't do that, as well!"

"Demands, nothing but demands," Hermes sighed soulfully. "Now what?" he demanded in exasperation as a trio of people hurtled towards them, all wailing.

"Prateus?" Iolaus said in confusion as the portly official threw himself at the hunter's feet and started to wail incoherently. The striking older woman behind him continually wrung her hands and lamented while the younger girl simply stood and gazed at him in shock. "Uh, did you want me for something?"

"Please, Oracle, lift this curse which had been laid upon my innocent daughter!" Prateus said.

"Daughter?" Iolaus said blankly. "I thought you said you didn't have a daughter?"

"Your greatness, please do not toy with me," Prateus whimpered. "I swear I did not realise that I had sired a daughter on that fateful night which you reminded me of. Aura, to her credit, did not wish to burden me with the knowledge of my great sin, but after your warning, I remembered what I had done and went back to check. Please, Oracle, lift the curse you spoke of! I will do anything you ask."

"What curse?" Hermes demanded.

"Uh, well, it was just something I said," Iolaus admitted in embarrassment. "I didn't really mean it."

"Mean what," Athena prompted, giving him a sharp prod.

Iolaus sighed and gave in, explaining how he had played a trick on Prateus. "I just meant to tease him a little," he finished lamely.

"Tease him? You tell him that a daughter he never knew he had is going to give birth to a frog and you think that's teasing him?" Athena cuffed him absent-mindedly as she moved forward. "No wonder the poor girl looks like she's been walloped by a sack of wet sand! Attend me, child," she said briskly.

The girl's gaze switched to Athena and her eyes widened before she dropped to the floor. "Great Goddess, you honour me," she whispered in awe.

"Eh?" Prateus said, peering over his shoulder in confusion.

"Hush up," Iolaus said absently. "Your daughter is, er, being visited."

"Aaah," both Prateus and Aura said in awed approval.

Athena snorted. "You have the look of intelligence about you, girl. What do you want out of life?"

"I am but the daughter of a tavern wench, my Lady-"

"I didn't ask you what you were," Athena said briskly. "I asked you what you wanted to be."

The girl gave her a shy glance. "I have some skill with charcoal and paint, my Lady," she said hesitantly.

"Indeed?" Athena's gaze became momentarily unfocused. "You do have some skill," she agreed, "but you need training. You are to present yourself to my temple at Lorcalon, where you will be tutored. The, ah, curse which the Oracle spoke of-" she paused to give a thoroughly abashed Iolaus a speaking look, "-was a merely a ploy to send your father to you. Now that has been accomplished, the curse is lifted."

"You are the most gracious of goddesses, great Athena!" the girl said ecstatically.

Athena shrugged modestly. "Well, one does what one can," she said. "Now, you and your family should go and celebrate. I shall prepare my priests and priestesses at Lorcalon to receive you in a month's time."

"Yes, my Lady."

The joyous family withdrew after some more effusive thanks for Iolaus and eventually the five of them were left on their own again. Hephaestus gave a sigh and shook his head.

"Are mortals always this emotional?" he asked curiously.

"Only when they've had someone messing about with their heads," Athena growled.

Iolaus shuffled his feet nervously. "Well how was I to know?" he demanded defensively. "I just said what popped into my head. It never occurred to me that Prateus had actually sired a daughter. I mean, what are the odds on that happening?"

"Pretty high," Hermes conceded, giving him a sharp look.

"Astronomical," Hephaestus agreed, grinning his crooked grin.

"The sort of odds which make a person think of divine intervention," Hercules chipped in, trying not to laugh.

Athena folded her arms and stared down her nose at a horrified Iolaus. "And just who have you been making up to while our backs have been turned, might I ask?"

"Me?" Iolaus squeaked. "You're kidding! Would I do something as dumb as that....? Well, okay, let me rephrase that. Herc, tell them! Herc, stop laughing and tell them? Oh, Hades, I knew this would happen!"

"AHA!" chorused four voices simultaneously.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-