Testament of the Spirit

Jason sighed, retracting his head from around the corner. "They’re still there," he reported mournfully, unleashing a chorus of moans that echoed off the cavern’s walls. The mournful sounds of forty odd men was depressing to say the least, and Jason grimaced, wishing he’d had better news.

"Well, what’d ya expect," remarked Iolaus, waiting impatiently for his friend’s surveillance report. "We’re prisoners, not guests here."

Jason bowed his head, kicking at the dirt between his feet. "Yeah, I know," he began. "But I can wish, can’t I?"

Iolaus drew in a deep breath and turned away. "Yeah, but that’s about all we can do." He picked his way through the crowded underground cavern, sharing sympathetic glances with those he passed. Squeezing past a group of haggard men in rags, he searched for a place to sleep. It had been another long strenuous day, and everyone, even Iolaus the energetic wonder, was exhausted.

Spotting an empty place against the cavern wall, Iolaus sat himself down. He had known the guards would be out there. They were there every night, and they would be there every night hereafter. A place of servitude was rarely unguarded.

"There’s gotta be a time when we’re not being guarded," Jason said, taking a seat next to Iolaus on the ground.

"Not likely," replied Iolaus, wiping a thick layer of grime from his face. But his efforts were futile. Under that layer of grime was another layer just waiting to be cleaned. "But what gets me is that they aren’t even armed. What’s up with that?"

Jason frowned. "Actually, that’s probably the only thing that makes sense."

"Huh?"

Shrugging, Jason leaned back against the hard earth. "It’s just a trick of the trade, Iolaus. You don’t arm your guards that are working in prisoner- or slave- quarters. That way they can’t steal the weapons and use ‘em against you. You don’t wanna put angry prisoners near weapons. Makes for unpleasant situations if and when they try to revolt. And ‘in quarters’ is where these kinds of plans are usually contrived."

Iolaus frowned. "I never thought of that."

"You’ve never had to," replied Jason, closing his eyes. "Why? Are you planning some sort of escape here?"

Iolaus didn’t reply, already making himself comfortable for another sleepless night. He rubbed his back against the hard dirt of the cave wall, trying to make a snug mold. Drawing his legs up and resting his arms across his knees, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Jason watched for a moment, then cast his eyes about the room. Some of the others were also finding spots in which to sleep. While others were up nervously pacing or chatting with friends. Jason found the whole scene rather surreal. If he hadn’t known where they really were, he would’ve sworn he was at some sort of weird camp-out. But knowing those guards were just outside the cavern’s entrance was a sad reminder of otherwise.

He, along with every other misfortunate victim in the underground cavern, were prisoners. Jason didn’t know the stories behind everyone else’s capture, but how he and Iolaus had been caught was still fresh in his mind. And it kept repeating itself over and over again. And each time he saw it playback, he searched for where he had gone wrong and how he could’ve handled it differently. With saddened eyes, he turned to his sleeping friend.

"I’ll get you out of here," he said quietly. "I promise."

Iolaus shifted and murmured something inaudible.

*** *** ***

Iolaus wasn’t the first awake, he noticed, when he opened his eyes the next morning. Him and the rest of the prisoners had learned to set their internal clocks so they woke before the guards came- they had such an unpleasant way of waking a person. Banging on a large metal shield, they would kick and shout at people until they were up. One morning, a particularly evil guard, used a flaming touch to wake a late riser. He had set the poor man’s clothes on fire with a smile. So, as sleep deprived as they were, they still managed to get up extra early to escape from that torture.

His body begging for more sleep, Iolaus pushed himself to his feet. As he rose he heard every bone in his body crack, sending shooting pain through each muscle. Rubbing his back, he slowly made his way to the center of the room. He looked around his dismal surroundings shaking his head. It was easy to tell how long a person had been there by the way they carried themselves. The new ones still walked proud and angry, and still believing in escape. Iolaus could see it in their eyes. That look that said there was no way they were going to spend another day here as a slave.

Iolaus remembered that look. He and Jason had worn it a long time after their capture. But now there was no point. There was no escape. Only hope of a rescue. And Iolaus would never give up on that. Especially when he looked across the cavern at the lifers. The one’s who’d been there probably since it had all began- the one’s who kept to themselves, spoke little and hoarded everything they could get their hands on. The lifers were easy to find in a crowd. They had given up on pretense and posturing a long time ago, moving about the day with their eyes glazed over, their shoulders slumped.

Those were what haunted Iolaus the most. The eyes. He didn’t want those eyes; hollow, lifeless, no glimmer of hope anywhere to be found. And their emptiness was reflected in their physique’s as well. Emaciated and pale, lifers bore the scars of long term imprisonment and torture. Iolaus looked himself over, running a hand down his filthy, yet intact vest, with a pang of guilt. Someone had tried to steal it their first night there, but he had been able to defend himself easily as his attacker had been weak from hunger and dehydration.

Taking a deep breath, he hurried himself the rest of the way. He found Jason building a fire in the middle of the room. This was the focal point of their new underground home. Where everyone gathered to keep warm or talk when their loneliness became to unbearable. It also had a clear view of the cavern’s entrance. The room was small with only one entrance, which made escape very difficult since it was always guarded by several men, menacing and angry with their position in life.

"Sleep well?" asked Jason sarcastically, adding sticks to the fire.

"Oh yeah," replied Iolaus, pulling back his hair with pained effort. "Just like a baby."

"You don’t look so good," noted Jason, looking up at his friend.

"Gee thanks," retorted Iolaus, bending by the fire to keep warm. Even in the dead of summer the caves were cold, and blankets were extremely hard to come by.

Jason sat back on his heels to get a better look. "No, I mean it," he said. "You look kinda pale."

Iolaus rubbed his hands over the fire. "I’m surprised you can tell under all this dirt."

"Well you better be careful," came a voice from across the fire. Iolaus and Jason looked up to see a skinny man in ragged clothes and a grim expression. "Looks like they took another one last night."

Jason and Iolaus darted their heads about the room searching for the missing victim. It was becoming a regular occurrence lately, to wake up and find one of them missing. Usually it was the extremely sick and weak who disappeared in the night. Their captor having no use for them, would have the guards drag them away in their sleep, never to be heard of again. And each morning the survivors would wake up thankful they were still in the cave. It was an odd thing to be grateful for.

"Who was it?" asked Jason, turning back to the skinny man whose name had slipped his mind. There were over forty men being kept in this small cavern, and he had yet to learn all their names. Which he was beginning to think was a good thing, cause it made that much easier when they disappeared. There was no use making a friend that was soon going to leave... or die. Which ever the case may be.

"Calstrom," replied the man bitterly. "The one who broke his arm yesterday moving the rocks."

Iolaus swallowed hard. He had known the guy. He had been moving the rocks along side Calstrom when he’d broken his arm. And he remembered how he had continued to work despite the pain, for fear of what might happen to him. Unfortunately, the guards must have noticed. "Well, you don’t have to worry about me," he said, standing up. "I may look like the walking dead, but I’m fine. Really."

"Whether you are or not," started the man across the fire, also rising. "You better keep that attitude up. Or your friend there is gonna find himself without a sleeping buddy," he finished, turning away and heading back to his little corner of the cavern.

"And you have yourself a good day too," retorted Iolaus, when the man was out of earshot.

"He’s right, ya know," conceded Jason, throwing another stick into the building fire before standing. "If you’re getting sick, you better not let them know."

"I’m fine!" stated Iolaus, slowly backing away from the fire. "I’m just tired like everyone else here." He waved his arms, indicating the other prisoners slowly moving about the cave. "We’ve been here for weeks now- some longer, and none of us has seen a decent meal, or a bath, or even a clean drink of water! Of course I’m gonna look a little ragged! We all do." Finished with his speech, Iolaus turned his back on Jason and walked away.

"Yeah," replied Jason, under his breath. "Only some of us look worse than others."

*** *** ***

The sun was just beginning to rise, but Hercules had not slept. He had made a promise to himself that he would not rest until his friends were found. And he’d already broken that promise once when he fell asleep, if only for a few minutes, the previous night. He couldn’t help himself. They had been searching non-stop for days, and his body couldn’t take it any longer. He had passed out from shear exhaustion while everyone in the search party had stopped for a short break.

Chieron had repeatedly told him to rest, that he would be no good to anyone if he was too weak to continue. But Hercules took no notice of his mentor’s words, schooling all his strength to keep awake, and to keep searching. But now, as he knelt by the river splashing cold water on his face, he could feel his body screaming once again for relief.

Trying to keep his focus straight, he starred at his reflection in the water, rippling and rolling with the gentle waves. It gave his face a distorted image, reflecting how he was feeling. Making a fist, Hercules punched the surface of the water where his face stared back at him. "Damn you!" you cursed, punching his reflection again. "How could you let this happen to them!"

"You can’t possibly be blaming yourself for this?"

Hercules spun around to see Lilith standing behind him, leaning against a tree. "Why not?" he spat, standing and turning. He brushed past her towards the encampment where the rest of the search party was gearing up for another day. He didn’t even spare Lilith a glance as he passed by.

"Hercules!" called Lilith, catching up to him. "This wasn’t your fault. You do know this, don’t you?"

Hercules didn’t answer. He marched ahead ignoring her.

Lilith ran ahead and jumped in front of him, cutting off his path. "Hey!" she pressed, jabbing a finger at his chest. But Hercules wouldn’t look at her. Lilith had to grab his chin and hold it firmly in her grasp, making sure she had his undivided attention. "I said, this wasn’t your fault. Now you just get that through your thick skull!"

Deciding Lilith wasn’t going to leave him alone with his misery, Hercules relented. He closed his eyes briefly, letting his tongue sweep across his lips. "I just keep thinking what if. What if I had gone fishing with them? What if I hadn’t gone to visit my mother that day? What if..."

"What if what if what if!" repeated Lilith, dropping her hand from his chin. "You can’t live in a world of what ifs! You can only live in the present."

"I can see someone has been paying attention in my class," said Chieron, coming up behind Lilith. "Now if only Hercules would listen to you..."

Hercules shook his head, staring at the ground. "Chieron," he began, but was silenced by a hand.

"Now is not the time for this conversation," interrupted the Centaur. "The messenger from the other search party just arrived with some news."

Lilith and Hercules waited with anticipation as Chieron turned back to the camp, waving them along. "We may have a lead," he said over his shoulder. "There is a village up ahead that claims several of their young men have also gone missing recently."

"And you think they might be with Jason and Iolaus?" asked Lilith, picking up her pace to walk beside the Centaur.

"It is a possibility," replied Chiron. "We will make our way to this village and find out more."

"Well why are we moving so slow?" demanded Hercules, running past them. "If they know anything," he said, turning around as he ran. "I want to know now!"

*** *** ***

Jason shielded his eyes as he stepped into the brilliant sunlight. After so much time in the dim cave network, even a candle's flame was too intense. But he managed to retain his composure, helping the other prisoners climb the last leg of the steep incline leading from their interim lodging. The guards were rushing them along with threats and screams as each person greeted the day with fear and anxiety.

"So, what'll it be today boys?" mused Iolaus in a jocular tone, as he brought up the rear of outgoing prisoners. "Tree cutting or rock removal?"

"Don't forget construction," added Jason, giving his friend a hand up. "That is, after all, why we're here."

"And don't you forget it!" threatened an eavesdropping guard, jabbing his staff behind Jason's knees.

Recovering, Jason threw the guard a beleaguered look and followed the rest of the prisoners. He couldn't decide which he liked better, the caves or the compound. Down below they had some privacy and a little refuse from the blazing heat, but above they had fresh air. Each had their own set of pros and cons, and Jason decided in the end they were both equal. They both sucked.

He and Iolaus made their way through the crowd as their group joined with the others. Each morning the underground caves emptied, spilling hundreds of prisoners out into the compound. Once they were all accounted for, they were broken down into work groups- as far as Jason could tell by ability. One group of artisans was being kept in the cavern adjacent to theirs who worked on the stone carvings and molds. Another group, Jason could only assume was located in another cave across the compound, that was responsible for the cooking and cleaning for all the guards. There were more groups, but he had yet to figure them all out. And he was quite certain there were plenty more like the one he and Iolaus belonged to. The one reserved for the young and strong... hard labor.

Each day he and Iolaus would be assigned a new back breaking task. Either clear cutting trees, rock removal, gravel pit or the actual building of the castle itself. All of them he hated, but building the castle he hated most. It meant being in direct contact with the despot himself.

Through rumors, spreading quickly through the slaves like wildfire, they had learned of Blasius, the tyrant responsible. He wanted to rule Greece, and later, the world apparently. He was building his empire here, where ever here was- Jason had no clue, and was using slaves to do his dirty work. And he had quite an congregation so far Jason noted, rising on his toes to look around.

The compound was built into a large canyon medial to two sloping hills. One end of the canyon was cut off by a wide rushing river too dangerous to cross. The other end was protected by a thick forest, dense with brush and wild animals. And right in the middle of all this was Blasius' soon-to-be fortress, from where he planned to live out his delusions of grandeur.

If the whole thing didn't reek of evil, Jason might of thought about building a nice summer home here. Gaea had done quite a beautiful job on this remote part of Greece.

"Hey, Jas," whispered Iolaus, breaking his friend from his musings. "Let's try and get on the tree cutting team this time."

Jason furrowed his brow. "Why tree cutting?" he whispered back. "I still have splinters from two days ago."

"Yeah, but I don't think I'm up for any heavy lifting today," replied Iolaus, rubbing his shoulder. "I haven't ached like this since the last Corinthian games."

"Tree cutting it is then," Jason replied slowly, studying his friend. Everyone looked horrible, but Iolaus looked worse than he should. His eyes were a little more tired, his face more drawn out, and he had lost his usual gait.

Jason turned his attention back to the crowd and the guards doling out the daily duties. Seeing a group being led towards the forest, Jason grabbed his friend. "Come on," he said over his shoulder. "We'll join that group."

The two prisoners bolted from the crowd, heading for the thirty or so others being led to the edge of the compound. But just as they were about to join them, a burly guard, dressed in black leather and armor and brandishing a sword, stepped before them.

"Where do you two think you're going?" he asked, spitting a gob of disgusting juice at Iolaus' feet.

Thinking quick on his feet, Jason pointed back at the unassigned prisoners then at the group walking away. "We're with them," he explained. "We're just a little slow today... You know, we're kinda tired and all..."

"Well get moving!" warned the guard with a shove.

*** *** ***

"Clear!" called Iolaus, as he stood back and watched the large tree crash to the ground.

Jason eyed the axe in his hand, turning it over and casting a glance at the guards surrounding them. "You know," he began, leaning in close to Iolaus. "It would be so easy to take them. Catch them by surprise and run."

Iolaus looked at one of the guards resting against a tree, his sword hanging idle at his hip. "Yeah," he said regretfully, turning back to Jason. "But what about the rest of the prisoners?"

Jason dropped his head. "I know. That's why I'm not considering it," he said. "If we escape, that means the others are gonna be punished."

"And the odds are still against us," continued Iolaus, bending over, pretending to tie his boot lace. He needed a break, but he didn't want the guards to know. And standing around idle was a sure fire way of being noticed. "There's like twenty guards here, all armed with either swords or bows. And there's only five of us with axes."

Jason rolled his wrist, spinning the axe in a circle. "They planned it that way. They have to give us tools, but they wanna make sure we don't get any ideas," he said, heading over to yet another tree. He pointed his axe up and nodded to Iolaus. "Well, you better get back up there."

Iolaus took a deep breath and pushed himself up with great effort. It was just like that morning, every joint creaked and ached. But he refused to let that slow him down. He spit in his palms and rubbed them together vigorously, ready to begin his ascent.

"Sure you want to go up there?" asked Jason, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It might be easier chopping, rather than clearing the branches."

Iolaus shrugged the hand off. "I'm okay," he insisted, grabbing for a low branch and hoisting himself upwards. "If you wanna worry, worry about the other prisoners. I'm fine."

Jason watched as Iolaus carefully climbed the tree, taking on each new height with a deep breath. He positioned himself directly under him, moving around the tree as Iolaus did. He hated to think it, but Iolaus seemed a little unsteady and there was the possibility that he could fall. And Jason wanted to be able to soften his landing. If his friend wasn't going to take care of himself, then he was damn sure he would.

*** *** ***

Cheiron had gathered the search party around the obelisk in the center of the village. Some had news, but not enough to direct them in any particular direction. But many of the villagers had volunteered to join their party in order to find their lost relatives.

"Perhaps you should start your own party?" suggested Chieron, speaking to the head of the village, an elderly and determined man. "That would allow us to cover more ground. The Corinthian Army is also out looking, and we have been sending messengers between our two groups. You and your villagers should make up a third party."

The man agreed with the Centaur, and together they headed for a table to discuss further actions. This left Hercules and Lilith with the rest of their party. Unable to sit still, Hercules paced the small square, going over in his mind the information they had gathered.

Lilith, tired of following the demi-god with her eyes like a ping-pong, decided to join him. She fell into step beside him, crossing back and forth in front of the obelisk. "It seems like only guys are being taken," she said, as they turned back to make another crossing.

"I was thinking the same thing," replied Hercules. "And from the descriptions the families here gave, young strong men or artisans."

"How many are missing from here?" asked Lilith, her head down, trying to put the pieces together.

"Twenty-seven," answered Hercules, his tone displaying his shock. "Plus the fifty or so from the town Jason's army found, and of course..."

"Jason and Iolaus," finished Lilith with a sigh.

"Yeah, Jason and Iolaus."

"So what does this all mean?" asked Lilith, finally stopping.

Hercules turned back to her, his arms entwined across his chest. "I know exactly what this means," he responded sternly. "Cause I have a feeling there's more men missing from other villages as well."

"Well?!" pushed Lilith, her arms spread. "Wanna share it with the rest of us?"

Walking past her towards Cheiron, he spared her a fleeting glance. "Either the Gods are redecorating their halls with mortal statues," he replied. "Or someone has some really sick employment tactics."

*** *** ***

Before Jason had a chance to leave the food line with his tray, a guard grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around. "Hey," growled the guard, eyeing him sideways. "You look familiar."

"Possibly," replied Jason acerbically. "I've been here awhile."

The guard shook his head. "No. I mean I know you. I've seen you around before."

"Yeah well," interrupted Iolaus, leaning over Jason's shoulder to get in the guard's face. "He's the famous..."

"Poet!" blurted Jason. "I'm a famous poet. You've probably seen me reciting my stuff at your local tavern," he finished, hoping the guy bought it. Apparently he did, harrumphing, but letting them move away from the line without further discussion.

Jason and Iolaus found a semi-secluded spot near the rest of the eating prisoners. They made themselves comfortable, ready to digest their daily meal. "Why didn't you tell that guy who you were?" asked Iolaus, playing with the scrap of bread on his plate.

"Oh sure," answered Jason. "I'm sure they have real special accommodations for Prince's here.... Nice cushy ones, with extra special torture that is."

Iolaus drew in a deep breath, wincing at the pain it caused. "Good point," he replied dejectedly. Then he looked at his plate, shook his head and tossed it to the ground.

Jason maneuvered himself so they were shoulder to shoulder. "Hey, buddy," he whispered. "You gotta eat. You gotta keep your strength up, even if it does taste like..."

"Ungrateful slave!" came a booming voice from above them. Jason and Iolaus looked up to see the guard from the food line standing over them, snarling at the discarded food. "You take what we give you and you eat it!" he ordered, spitting onto the hardened roll lying in the dirt. Then he turned, marching away to join the other guards enjoying their hearty meal.

Iolaus stared at the roll. "You wanna trade, mine's got sauce?" he asked with mock excitement.

Jason made a face and shook his head. "Uh, no thanks," he replied. Then he broke off a piece of his bread, cracking it on the edge of his plate like an egg. "Here, have some of mine. I think he's gone now."

Iolaus pushed it away, clutching his stomach. "I can't," he admitted, his eyes closed. "It'll only resurface later."

Jason didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. He didn't think it was possible, but his friend actually looked worse than he had that morning. And he knew he was only going to get sicker. Under the conditions they had been living in this past while, it was no wonder he was sick. They were given food, if it could be called that, once a day and in child sized portions. What little water they were granted was usually brown, tepid, and stinking of musty wood. And the living conditions were no better. Forty men were crammed into a small underground cave where air couldn't circulate, and they breathed in each other's sweat and slept on the cruel cold ground.

But escape seemed like a myth, the guards out armed and outnumbered them at least twenty to one. And even if Jason could plan an escape, most of the prisoners were to weak or frightened to fight anyway. They would be slaughtered in minutes.

The only thing they could hope for was a rescue, or a miracle. Jason was betting on the first. And he thanked every God he could think of, even one's he didn't believe in, that he had friends like Hercules and Cheiron. It also didn't hurt that he was the Crown Prince of Corinth, with an army ready to defend him at a moment's notice. That thought reassured him greatly. For if and when they got out of there, he knew what his first order would be to his army. And no mighty fortress or autocratic dictator was gonna live to regret that day.

When eating time came to a conclusion, the guards rounded up the slaves. The prisoners assigned to kitchen duties started gathering all the plates and mess left behind, as the others were sent back to work. If Blasius was anything, he was obsessively neat- bordering on retentive. It was just another element that validated his insanity. That and the fact that he had yet to show his face amongst the prisoners.

"It just sickens me ya know," Iolaus said to Jason as they headed back to the forest with their work party. "The disregard this guy has for human beings. He's got hundreds of slaves living and dying under his control, and he doesn't give a damn about any one of them."

"I can't believe he's got followers," replied Jason, trying to keep voice low. "How can anyone support this Blasius? He's a nut case bent on world domination. I wanna just grab this guy and smack him back to reality."

"Yeah right. And after that, you can make me irresistible to woman and take your place as King of the Universe," mused Iolaus. "Face it, Blasius is so far gone there's no hope for him"

"I swear there's a village out there missing their idiot," sighed Jason, shaking his head.

"Hey! You two!" bellowed a voice behind them. Jason and Iolaus spun to see a couple of approaching guards. "You're coming with me!" ordered one of the men. "You're needed elsewhere!"

Jason struggled as a guard grabbed his vest, dragging him away from the other tree cutters. "Hey! You don't have to be so rough! I'm going, I'm going."

The guard pulled him harder, looking back to see his comrades tugging at Iolaus- also putting up a fight. "Blasius feels you two would serve him better in construction," rumbled the guard. "Think of it as a compliment. A step up in life."

"I don't care what you think!" riposted Iolaus, as he was shoved passed Jason. He turned back to the guards, his face contorted with anger and frustration. "Call it what you like, but to me it's slave labor! And your precious Blasius is a maniac! He's diluted if he thinks he's gonna get away with this!"

Jason tried to placate the situation by holding his friend back. "Hey, buddy," he said, wrapping an arm around Iolaus' torso. "Don't make it worse."

"No!," countered Iolaus, unable to control his anger any longer. He tried to escape Jason's grasp, but he had a good hold of him, so he settled on shouting at the guards over his friend's shoulder. "You can't treat people this way!" he continued. "Blasius doesn't even have the courage to show his face around here! He sits in his little tent all day surrounded by slaves and guards, too afraid to face the shit he's created around him!"

"Iolaus," pushed Jason, slowly losing his grip on his angered friend. "Let it go."

"I'd like to hear this," smiled one of the guards, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let the slave continue," he finished with a sneer.

Iolaus broke free from Jason and stepped up to the guard. "Blasius is a coward!" he spat, jabbing a finger at the guard's chest. "He doesn't even have the common decency to face his slaves! What?! Can't he stomach what he's doing?!"

The guard laughed, grabbing Iolaus by the hair and yanking his head back. His eyes reduced to mere slits, he leaned over the slave's face. "Harsh words for someone in your position," he snarled. "Fortunately you are nothing, so your words mean nothing to someone like Blasius. You should be honored to be building his empire. You should bow down each day and praise the heavens he's as good to you as he is."

When the guard finished, he released Iolaus, ordering one of his henchmen to grab him. Then he turned to Jason, ordering his capture as well. "Now I suggest you both be good little boys and do as your told," he said, as the two prisoners were carted off towards the construction area. "You may regret it otherwise."

*** *** ***

Jason could feel his skin burning. After several hours under the uncompromising sun, he wasn't sure if he was going pass out from exhaustion first, or spontaneously combust. Either way he didn't care. It would be an end to his misery, and that's all he cared about at this moment. That, and Iolaus. He was quickly degenerating working under this heat, and Jason noticed. There wasn't anything he could about it, but he kept a watchful eye on him anyway. And when Iolaus stumbled trying to lift one of the gigantic concrete slabs into place, Jason felt his own stomach lurch.

He quickly scanned the area checking if any of the guards had seen it, but it appeared they hadn't. And when Iolaus finally got the slab into place, Jason saw him bend over to recover, bracing his hands on his knees. "Iolaus," he cautioned in a restrained voice.

Iolaus looked back with a nod. Then he rose and drew in a deep breath. Jason didn't have to say anything further. Iolaus knew what he was trying to say -watch your back, cause they're watching. But the contents of his stomach could be stupid that way. They didn't care if anyone was watching. They were coming out regardless of place or time.

Jason tensed as Iolaus stumbled behind a rock, using it to support himself as he bent down. Not wanting to draw attention to his friend, Jason casually strolled over under the pretense of gathering more slabs. He caught the tail end of Iolaus' regurgitation and started coughing purposefully, trying to mask the unmistakable sounds coming from his friend. Examining the rock concealing Iolaus, Jason peered over and watched his friend spit out the last of the bile remaining in his mouth.

"You okay?" he asked.

Iolaus wiped his mouth, kicking dirt over the mess at his feet. "What do you think?" he replied, more bitterly than he had intended. "Let's just get back to work before anyone notices."

"Just try and take it easy," cautioned Jason with a nudge.

Iolaus smiled weakly. "Tell Blasius that," he replied, heading for another slab.

Jason pushed his breath out in a puff. There's gotta be something I can do? He asked himself. I can't let this continue. He looked around the compound, scoping the area for weaknesses he could use against them. Cheiron had once said, 'you will know your enemies weaknesses when you find them and take advantage of them.' The only problem Jason found with that was, he couldn't find any weaknesses in Blasius' militaristic alliance. To give credit were credit was due, Jason had to admit, as insane as the guy was, he knew what he was doing.

*** *** ***

With night came the evacuation of the compound. Slaves were herded back underground per Blasius' protocols to the intricate cave network. It was difficult to keep a watchful eye on the prisoners in the dark. They were harder to keep track of, and escape became more of a possibility. This also allowed Blasius' guards and retinue some rest time. A tyrant to his slaves he was, but to his men he was a benevolent leader. Treating them to wine and stories as they relaxed amongst the grandiose tent city erected next to the budding castle. Blasius understood the concept that a well treated follower would be a loyal follower. So each night he walked amongst them, ate with them, shared in their camaraderie and drank in their praise and worship like a gluttonous pig.

But below was a different story all together. The guards on duty for the evening were beginning roll call. Taking each cavern scattered underneath the compound in groups of six, they rounded up the slaves in orderly lines. Here they were able to inspect the physical condition of each slave, and make sure no one had gone missing during the day.

Jason pushed a few slaves into line as he heard the approaching guards. Then he quickly took his place amongst them, standing next to Iolaus on the end. "You going to be okay?" he asked, turning to his friend.

Iolaus blinked aggressively, trying to wake himself. "I can handle it," he said, trying to sound more confident than he was. "I haven't been sick in awhile."

"That's what I'm afraid of," replied Jason. "You're about due."

Iolaus made a face at his friend but didn't have a chance to reply. The guards entered the cavern expecting complete silence and co-operation, so everyone turned their attention to them.

As if their task were demeaning and redundant, the guards picked over the slaves and checked their scrolls for the correct count. It appeared none of them noticed Iolaus' sickened condition, and the count was right, so they started towards the exit. But one remained behind, holding his chin in hand and scrutinizing the line of slaves.

The guard stepped towards Iolaus and Jason flinched, snapping his head around to face his friend. Iolaus was starring back at him, his eyes apprehensive with a hint of fear. Damn. Thought Jason, closing his eyes and thinning his lips. They've noticed.

"I see we've learned to co-operate now," chided the guard, sizing up Iolaus with his eyes. This caught the attention of the other guards and they came to stand behind their apparent leader. Adding more anxiety to an already tense situation.

Iolaus furrowed his brow, trying to put meaning to the words.

"You don't remember me, do you?" asked the guard, placing his nose mere inches from the slave's.

Iolaus pulled his head back. "Um... Not really."

The guard laughed and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, but you must," he replied boisterously. "We had such a lovely little chat this afternoon in the compound."

Iolaus swallowed hard, now recognizing the guard's face. "Well, you're all so ugly it's hard to tell you guys apart," he rebuked, regretting it immediately.

The guard dropped his friendly facade, balling his hands into fists. In a quick, smooth motion he lashed out with his right hand. His fist landed squarely in the middle of Jason's face. Jason staggered from the blow, landing sprawled on the ground behind the line.

"Hey!" shouted Iolaus, charging the guard. "He didn't do anything! It's me you want!" Two of the guards grabbed Iolaus, locking his arms behind his back. Iolaus tried to struggle free, but they were strong, not giving him much leeway. Then one of them wrapped a hand around his head, covering his mouth in a tight grip. Iolaus was silenced and restrained, and unable to break free.

Jason slowly picked himself off the ground, stunned, angry and checking for blood. Every part of him wanted to rush the guards and beat the pulp out of them, but that little display made him reconsider. They weren't going to play fair, so Jason took a deep breath and tried to contain himself. But there was only so much self restraint a man could have. "Bastard," he mumbled under his breath.

The head guard squared his jaw, defining the muscles in his chin. "Did I say you could speak?" he hissed between his teeth.

"You can't...!" began Jason, still wiping at his nose where blood was flowing.

"Again you speak!" shouted the guard, keeping his eyes trained on Jason, but pointing to another prisoner down the line. "Kill him," he ordered evenly.

Two guards rushed the unsuspecting prisoner being singled out and Jason jumped. He tried to stop them before they had a chance to carry out the order, but he was quickly restrained by the head guard.

"You can't do this!" Jason screamed, trying to free himself. But he was also silenced with a hand clamped over his mouth.

"You speak again," snarled the head guard, twisting Jason's arm up his back. "You will learn," he threatened, nodding his head at another innocent prisoner. "Kill him too."

Jason was forced to watch as the two prisoners were killed. Two guards, each grabbing a prisoner from behind, wrapped an arm around their victim's shoulder and the other in the opposite direction around their head and grabbing their chin. In one quick move the guards snapped the necks.

Crack.

Crack.

It was so quick the victims didn't even have a chance to scream. The guards had done it with practiced accuracy, like they had done it so many times before now.

Jason closed his eyes as the two dead bodies slumped to the ground in a heap at the guard's feet. He felt like he was about to pass out. He had seen people killed before, he had even done the killing himself, but this was different. These victims had not been killed in a war, or in self-defense, but because of him. Because he couldn't keep his mouth shut and learn to control himself. He felt himself weaken, and leaned his weight on the guard holding him. His legs couldn't support him any longer. He wanted to fall to the ground and melt into the earth. Hide forever.

He hit the ground hard when the guard finally released him. On his knees, Jason buried his head in his hands, unable to look at anyone.

"Now that you know how things work around here," started the head guard, walking back to the cavern's entrance. "We shouldn't have anymore problems."

Jason didn't respond. He kept his face and guilt hidden.

"Grab those bodies," ordered the guard. "We need to make room in here now for two more slaves... Live ones would be nice, don't ya think?" he chided, receiving a chorus of laughs from the other guards.

But Jason didn't hear him. His mind was screaming to loudly to hear any outside noise. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He could only remain on his knees, face buried and frozen in that moment. In that exact moment he had heard the necks snap, one after the other.

Crack.

And Iolaus threw up. If the guards had of still been in the cavern he wouldn't have cared. He bent over bracing his hands on his knees and drained what little there was in his stomach. Then he went to his friend.

Kneeling beside Jason, he draped an arm over his back and said nothing. For nothing could be said. Nothing could be done. And the two of them remained that way for some time. The rest of the cavern's residents left them there, walking away in silence.

Jason and Iolaus had just become the most hated, and most feared, prisoners in the cave.

*** *** ***

Night could be such an oddity. It could be your best friend, displaying magnificent stars and bringing with it peaceful dreams. Or it could be your worst enemy, creating a blackened earth and too much time to think. Looking to the stars usually eased the pain inside Hercules, but on this night they only taunted him. Sparkling high above in the heavens, they reflected a sense that everything was all right with the world. They were too beautiful to reflect anything else, but Hercules couldn't find it in himself to share in their optimism. Instead, he felt more in tune with the dark matter between them- the empty, black spaces that seemed to go on forever.

He threw another pebble into the fire, watching as tiny orange and white sparks flickered and faded. He had tried to convince everyone to keep searching through the night, but most had been too tired. Some had been on his side, wanting to push ahead with the search, but reason had a way of changing one's mind. And reason was usually a wise Centaur urging everyone to get some sleep. Hercules had lost his battle, and was beginning to think he should leave the rest behind and set out after his friends alone.

"Want some company?" came a soft feminine voice across the fire.

Hercules squinted through the smoke till he recognized Lilith's pale face. "Sure. Why not," he replied, making room on the log he was sitting on.

Lilith walked around the fire carrying a blanket, and took a seat next to Hercules. She wrapped the blanket over his shoulders and gave him a nudge. "I thought you might be cold," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," mumbled Hercules, pulling the blanket tighter around his body.

Lilith stretched her legs out in front of her, letting her feet feel the heat from the fire. "You know, I'd wager my weight in dinars that I know what you're thinking right now," she said, cocking her head to face him.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"You're thinking about setting out on your own, aren't you?"

Hercules didn't respond.

"But don't worry," continued Lilith, without prompt. "Cause I'm not gonna let you."

Hercules looked at her. "What makes you think you could?" he asked. "If that was what I was contemplating, there's no way you could stop me."

Lilith laughed, giving Hercules a playful punch in the arm. "It is possible to stop the mighty Hercules, you know," she replied. "I know a few things..."

"And what would they be, Lilith?" he asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"I know you," replied Lilith, receiving a confused look from her friend. "And I know that you'd do anything you could to find Jason and Iolaus. So when I tell you the best thing you can do for them is get some sleep, I know you'll listen to me."

Hercules shook his head, furrowing his brow. "How can sleeping help them?" he questioned. "We're just wasting time..."

Lilith cut him off before his voice grew loud enough to wake the others. "What happens to you when you don't get enough sleep?" she asked, not waiting for a response. "You become sluggish. Your alertness diminishes. You aren't very attentive. It's just the way the human body works. And if I remember correctly, you are half- mortal."

"What's you point, Lilith?"

"My point," she stated, drawing her legs in. "Is that if you don't get some sleep, give yourself time to rest, you might miss something when we are searching. You might just miss that track in the ground. You might not hear that whisper in the crowd, or that smell floating on a breeze. And these are the things we need to take notice of if we're ever going to find Jason and Iolaus."

Hercules pushed his breath out and closed his eyes. Lacing his fingers behind his neck, he bowed his head. "You're right as always, Lilith," he replied. "But just promise me one thing?"

"What's that?"

"Don't ever go anywhere without me?"

Lilith drew her head back, a puzzled look on her face. "Now that's a silly thing for me to promise," she replied.

"I know," sighed Hercules, slumping his shoulders. "But I'm feeling rather cynical, humour me."

Lilith placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You can't protect the world, Hercules."

"Maybe not," he replied, turning to face her. "But at least I can try and protect the ones I care about."

Lilith smiled and stood up. "Good-night, Hercules," she said, looking down at him. "Go get some sleep."

*** *** ***

"There's thunder all around me, and there's poison in the air.

"Give it up, Iolaus. You're never gonna catch one as big as mine."

"Just passing through," re-iterated the other man not involved in the search.

Jason's eyes flew open, his internal clock waking him before the morning guards arrived. It had been the same dream he'd had since their capture. It always started in the same place, and it always ended with the crushing blow. He was getting tired of seeing his mistakes play over and over again in his mind. But he was thankful it wasn't last night's incident that he had dreamt about.

Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he turned over. He squeezed his eyes shut, thanking the Gods that Iolaus was still there. He gave him a nudge, but he didn't respond. Jason sat up and rolled Iolaus onto his back, careful to support his head. He felt limp, damp and extremely light in his arms. A few weeks ago Iolaus had been a sturdy guy, a competitor to reckon with. But now he was thin and weak. Jason looked himself over, noting that he looked no better. But at least he wasn't sick.

Some of the other prisoners were also getting up, but they were making it obvious they didn't want anything to do with them. No one would make eye contact with Jason, let alone help. And Iolaus needed help. Jason couldn't wake him and was starting to get worried.

"Come on, Iolaus," he pleaded, feeling his forehead with the palm of his hand. "How can you have a fever...?" he noted aloud. "It's freezing in here." He looked over his shoulder. "Someone get that fire started!" he ordered, to no one in particular.

"Shut up!" replied a voice in the crowd. "You don't give orders around here!"

Jason squinted in the dim light of the cavern trying to put a face with the voice. A young wiry man stepped forward, barefoot, his face dirty and scowling. The man bent beside Jason and started uniting Iolaus' boots. "And since he won't be needing these anymore," he said, as others started to gather around him.

Jason shoved him away, using the thief to knock the others back. "Touch him, and you'll have to deal with me!" he threatened, re-lacing his friend's boots. Then he stood to confront them head on. But they had already retreated. Turning their backs once again on the ones in need.

"Damn it, Iolaus," he sighed, turning back to his friend. "Just wake up."

"I am awake," replied Iolaus weakly, his eyes still closed. Then he held an arm out. "Just help me up."

Jason grabbed the hand and hoisted Iolaus to his feet. He pulled him close, their foreheads almost touching, and he could feel the heat emanating from his friend's body. "You gotta do this, pal," he said quietly. "Don't leave me now. I can't handle all these thugs on my own."

Iolaus laughed softly, pulling his head back. "Yeah," he frowned, looking over Jason's shoulder at the motley crew. "They look like a real mob to reckon with."

"We shouldn't joke," replied Jason, following Iolaus' gaze. "I mean, I can't blame them for being angry with us."

"Jas," consoled Iolaus, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's over. We gotta let it go. There was no way you could've known what was going to happen last night."

Jason hung his head. "Maybe. But..."

"But nothing," interrupted Iolaus. "It's not your fault. Blame it all on Blasius. Without him, none of this would be happening."

"On one condition, " responded Jason with a smile. "I'll try and stop blaming myself, and you make it through this day without being sick?"

Iolaus winked. "That would be up to my stomach," he answered wryly, gripping Jason's forearm. "But we got a deal."

Jason nodded and shook his friend's arm, closing the deal.

*** *** ***

At the edge of a village Cheiron and the Academy search party re-grouped, readying to enter together. As they headed down the trail into town, a cloaked figure flew past them on a horse, kicking up a dust cloud behind him. Lilith covered her mouth, coughing as the dust entered her lungs.

"Like they couldn't see us walking here!" she choked, waving her hand to disperse the lingering dust.

"Maybe he has an agenda?" questioned Hercules, patting her on the shoulder. "Like news?"

"We don't know if anyone from this village is missing," pointed out Cheiron. Then he trotted ahead, taking the lead as the group entered the village.

The residents ceased their daily activities. Woman dropped their hampers, elderly men stowed their tools and children stopped playing their games. All eyes reverted to the large entourage, bearing weapons and stern faces, invading their town. It had been just over a month since their young men had been taken, and for all they knew these determined warriors had been the culprits. The village's men had disappeared one night, never to be seen again. There had been no clues left behind, except the empty beds and derelict stores that did not open the next morning.

Finally one of the women stepped forward, singling out the Centaur as the leader. She approached tentatively, her hands shaking. "Hello," she said, extending a hand. "Welcome to Kaprinia."

Cheiron noted the woman's apprehension and smiled warmly as he shook her hand. "Hello," he began. "It's a very nice town you have here. And rest assured, we mean you know harm." He paused, looking around at the faces starring and watching him closely. "I believe we may actually be of some service."

*** *** ***

The morning had passed without incident for the slaves, but a certain tension hung in the air not there previously. Jason couldn't put his finger on it, but somehow the guards seemed a little on edge, a little more alert and attentive to their duties. Not that they were ever dismissive about their jobs, but today they appeared to take them a bit more seriously. Standing a little closer as they worked. Brandishing their weapons a tad more ferociously. Shouting more threats than normal.

Jason sensed something was going down. Or soon would be.

He tried to stay as close to Iolaus as he could. He hadn't been sick yet, but there was another matter that concerned Jason as well. His friend could be just as pig headed as him, and Jason didn't want there to be anymore trouble. Especially after last night's demonstration.

Jason patted his leather vest, discharging puffs of white smoke into the air. The dust particles settled on his clothes and stuck to his sweaty skin. He was filthy, and covered head to toe in dry powder from the concrete slabs. And he was pretty sure he smelled bad too. Coughing, he bent down to catch his breath.

Rope.

The rope he had been using to tow the larger slabs was lying at his feet. Without moving his head, he darted his eyes about the compound Confident no one was watching, Jason seized the rope and tucked it into his vest. He made sure it was completely hidden, adjusted his vest accordingly, and stood up. Spotting Iolaus working up on the castle wall, Jason headed over.

Iolaus had learned that it was easier if he just didn't think about it. Ignore his queasy stomach, the heavy work and the sweltering heat. Just concentrate on spreading the mortar.

Scoop. Plop. Spread. Scoop. Plop. Spread.

He repeated the actions over and over again like a drill at the Academy. He was so into his routine he didn't notice Jason approaching. And when his friend called his name, Iolaus jumped, dropping his spade over the edge of the wall inside the castle.

"Sorry!" he called down, noticing the tool had just missed a guard's head by mere inches. Then he turned to Jason. "Thank-you," he said, his tone of voice artificially cheery. "Now why don't you kill me now before that guy comes up here and does it anyway."

Jason made a face and peered over the wall's edge. "Sorry," he replied sheepishly. "So, how you doing?" he asked, turning back.

Iolaus rested his elbows on the wall, careful not to lean too far over so the guards below could see. "I am so ready to get out of here," he replied, hanging his head. "We can't stay here. This is pathetic. It's unreal. We've been here for... for... I can't even remember how long we've been here. And I can't believe we haven't done anything. There's gotta be a way outta here."

Jason joined his friend on the wall. "We've gone over this," he said. "And you saw what happens when one person acts up. Can you imagine what would happen if two of us escaped? It would be a massacre. And I couldn't live with myself."

Iolaus slammed his fist on the wall, pushed himself back and started pacing. "What if we worked together? You know, rally the troops and all? You're used to leading a charge. Pretend we're your army and lead us to victory."

Jason stepped over to the other side of the wall overlooking the compound. "Oh yeah," he mused, watching the prisoners skulking about at their work. "An army any General would be proud to take into battle." He turned back to Iolaus, crossing his arms over his chest. "Most of them couldn't fight even if they were given the chance. I'd bet more than half of them have already given up any hope of getting out of here."

Stopping mid pace, Iolaus clenched his fists. "This is so frustrating!" he cried. "What if we snuck out at daybreak and made it back before evening count? The guards wouldn't even know we were gone."

"And do what?" asked Jason, spreading his arms.

"I don't know! Find someone. Tell someone what's going on here and to get help!"

"I think it's better if we wait," replied Jason.

"Wait for what?!"

"Hercules. Cheiron. The Corinthian army," stated Jason. "I know they're out there looking for us." He paused, trying to lock eyes with Iolaus. "And you know it too."

Iolaus swallowed and closed his eyes- which was a big mistake. A wave of dizziness swept over him and he wavered. Grabbing for the wall, he missed, and slumped to the ground. Dazed, Iolaus shook his head, trying to regain his senses. But his head felt heavy, it lolled to the side and he couldn't keep his eyes open. And the contents of his stomach began to reel. He clutched his stomach, tucking into the fetal position.

That was when Jason grabbed him by the shoulders and hoisted him to his feet roughly. Iolaus tried to stand on his wobbly legs, but it was a tiring job and he started to collapse again.

Jason grabbed him harder, shaking him. "Hey," he whispered in his ear. "The guards are coming. Don't let this happen now. Get a grip." He let go and watched to see if Iolaus could stand on his own again.

Iolaus snapped his eyes open using all his strength. His vision was blurry, but he could see three approaching figures coming across the wall. He knew he had to play this off. He couldn't let them see him falter or he wouldn't live to see the next sunrise. Reaching as far down as he could, Iolaus drew from all the remaining strength and willpower he had. By the time the guards were in front of him he had regained his composure. Or at least, a reasonable facsimile.

"Down into the compound!" ordered one of the guards as they walked past. "And get a move on!"

Jason watched over his shoulder as the guards headed down the wall, repeating the order to the rest of the slaves. He turned to Iolaus just as he slumped back against the wall for support. Jason grabbed him by the belt and pulled him upright. "Just make it to the compound," he said, pulling him along. "We can get lost in the crowd and then you can collapse all you want. Just stay with me till then."

*** *** ***

As if it weren't hot enough, being squished in the middle of a couple hundred sweaty slaves was down right unbearable. Iolaus, using the crowd as camouflage, squatted beside Jason. Here, there was a little shade. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking up at Jason.

Jason raised on his toes, his head poking above the throng of other heads in the crowd. "It's hard to tell," he replied, straining his neck. "There's a bunch of guards milling about up there by the castle, and... And..." his voice trailed off, unable to escape his lips. His heart began slamming in his chest.

"What?" pushed Iolaus, his eyes wide, his queasy stomach momentarily forgotten.

Jason lowered himself, running a hand through his greasy hair. When the guards had parted, he had recognized the equipment set up against the castle wall. He figured most of the other prisoners did as well, but Jason knew more. He knew that inconspicuous piece of junk had more than one purpose. "It looks like lesson time again," he said, turning to Iolaus. "It's a wheel."

At the words, Iolaus sprang up a little too quickly and staggered. He steadied himself using Jason's shoulder, and hoisted his head above the crowd. "What the...!" Blinding pain seared through his head, forcing him back. He grabbed his head, doubling over and grimacing at the pain. "Jason!" he cried, squeezing his eyes tight. "Oh Gods, make it stop..."

The crowd scuttled back, frightened to be seen with the sick slave and leaving Jason and Iolaus vulnerable to the guards. Jason stepped over his friend and wrapped his arms under Iolaus' shoulders. He hoisted him up, dragging him back into the crowd. He had to keep his friend hidden. He had to make sure the guards didn't see how sick he was. He had to ignore his friend's plea- which was difficult since Iolaus was still wincing in pain and clutching his head.

Finding a new spot amongst the crowd, Jason deposited Iolaus on the ground, lying him on his back at everyone's feet. Iolaus rolled over, curling into the fetal position.

"Just get away from me," moaned Iolaus, covering his head with his arm. "You can't do anything... I'm just your burden."

Jason dropped to his knees, grabbed Iolaus by his vest. "Don't you ever say that," he stated, clenching his jaw. "I am not leaving you."

Iolaus shook his head. "I can't... Go... Please..."

Jason found his friend's hand and wrapped it in his. "I can't tell you I'm not scared," he said, leaning over Iolaus. "But we gotta do this. Together. Where's that stubborn Iolaus we all know and love?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to lighten his tone. "Huh? I know he's in there."

Iolaus laughed, but the effort hurt his head, so it came out sounding more like a moan. "On vacation," he replied weakly.

It was hard, but eventually Iolaus was able to push his self-pity aside. There was a part of him that just wasn't quite ready to give up yet. He knew if he looked hard enough, he could find a little fight left in him. And when he found it, the pounding in his head didn't quite feel so bad. He forced himself to get up, but what energy he did find, wasn't quite enough to get him to his feet. He contented himself, and Jason, to remaining on his knees.

Jason patted his friend on the head playfully. "There, that's a good little cadet," he mused with a smile.

"Aw, bite me," replied Iolaus, not looking up.

Jason ignored that and turned his attention to the commotion at the base of the castle. Amongst the guards now stood a figure draped in emerald green robes, trimmed with gold lace and polished armor fit for a God. Jason squinted as the sun's rays bounced off the shiny metal, reflecting back over the crowd. Oh, that must be Blasius. He thought to himself, sardonically.

A hush fell over the compound as the man stepped up onto a concrete slab, holding his head high as he looked over his subjects. The man's arrogance made Jason want to throw up. But he watched and listened anyway, for this was the first time Blasius had ever shown his face.

The man stood on his make shift podium smiling out at the crowd for several moments before addressing them. "You are my slaves!" he bellowed, holding the last word for several beats. "You are nothing! And you come from nothing!"

"Don't tell me," sighed Iolaus from his knees. "Blasius?"

Jason nodded exasperated and turned back to the psychopath and his touching speech.

"But through me you will become legend!" continued Blasius, raising his arms in a 'V' over his head. "Through your hard work, sacrifice and dedication you will build my empire!"

"Dedication, my ass," mumbled Jason.

"And I give you this privilege... I allow you to be part of something greater than this world has ever seen before, and how do you repay me?!" shouted Blasius, his face contorting in anger and resentment. "With insolence and impertinence! You show me no respect and act against my guards! You will give me my due admiration! You will praise me as your sovereign!"

The guards surrounding the crowd rushed forth, knocking the prisoners to their knees with staff weapons. "Bow before your God!" they screamed, making their way through the mob. "Kneel!"

"Where does he get off calling himself a God?" spat Iolaus.

"Must be a friend of Ares," mused Jason, whipping around to keep a watchful eye on the approaching guards.

"You will show your respect!" boomed the guard's voices, rising high above the murmurs of the frightened crowd. "On your knees, boys!"

Seeing several guards a few paces to his left, Jason dropped to his knees. "I never thought I'd bow down to anyone," he cursed with venom.

Iolaus shrugged. "Well, seeing how I'm already down here..."

Jason shot him a dry look before bowing his head. A moment later a pair of dusty black boots appeared below his face. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to look up, but his curiosity got the better of him. Raising his head slowly, his eyes traced the boots up to the legs, and then higher to the guard's face.

"So it is you," said the guard, smiling down at him. "Oh, this will be so much fun," he laughed, sheathing his sword and reaching his muscular arms for Jason and Iolaus.

*** *** ***

"Your village is not alone," explained Cheiron to the gathering villagers. "Young men have gone missing all across the countryside. Sons, fathers, brothers, merchants... Even two of my own cadets."

"It was the Gods!" shouted an old woman. "We offended them somehow, and this is our punishment!"

"No. No no no," replied Hercules, pushing his way to Cheiron. He turned to the mob, pausing briefly as he saw the fear and sadness etched on all their faces. "No, this wasn't the Gods."

"How do you know?!" the woman spat back.

"I just know," he sighed, arching his eyebrows. "This isn't their style."

"And what is their style?!"

"I don't know," replied Hercules. "But it's not this."

Cheiron wrapped his arm over his cadet's shoulder. "He's right," he said to the villagers. "This is the work of a mortal, not a God. And the cadets at my Academy, the Corinthian Army and other villagers are all out looking for our missing men."

"And we will not stop until we find them," added Hercules.

Cheiron nodded, squeezing his shoulder. "And you should do the same," he suggested to the crowd. "Join the search, and return your men to their rightful places."

"It's not that easy," stated a young woman, breaking from the crowd. She looked back at the members of her village. "Most of us are too old, too weak to stray far from our homes... And some of us have small children to care for. We can't just go rushing off on the search." She paused as a young boy ran up to her, wrapping his tiny arms around her legs. She brushed the hair off his face as he stared up at her. Then she looked back to Cheiron and Hercules. "As much as we'd like too... Because I don't want my son growing up without a father."

Cheiron stepped forward, placing a hand on the young boy's head. Looking at the woman, he said, "We will do everything we can to find them, and bring them back."

The woman smiled. "Thank-you."

"What about, Delphius?"

Cheiron looked down to the young boy who had spoken. "Who is, Delphius?" he asked, turning back to the mother.

She shook her head. "No one. Delphius thinks of no one but Delphius, and wouldn't help anyone."

This caught Hercules' attention. He leaned over Cheiron's shoulder. "Then why did the boy mention him?" he asked eagerly. "Is it possible this, Delphius, knows something?"

The woman drew in a deep breath, shaking her head again. "I doubt it, but you can ask. But I warn you, Delphius is not the most pleasing individual to deal with." She pointed to her right at a small hut on the edge of town. In the doorway was the cloaked figure who had ridden into town on the horse. "That's Delphius over there... Good luck."

*** *** ***

Jason and Iolaus were dropped at Blasius' feet, erecting a dust cloud as their bodies hit the dirt. Blasius laughed, throwing his head back. But as he bent down over them, his eyebrows knotted together.

"Unacceptable!" he howled, bounding to his feet. He stuck his right foot out, displaying his sandal to the guards. "Are you waiting for an invitation, or am I suppose to do this myself?" he said haughtily, hiking up his robe as he turned his foot over to display the damage.

"Pardon my oversight," croaked one of the guards, flustered. Then he grabbed one of the slave servants and threw him too the ground. The slave pulled out a small brush and rag from his leather pouch and began cleaning the sandal. "It will not happen again," apologized the guard, bowing his head.

"See that it doesn't," replied Blasius, pulling his foot back, satisfied with it's state of cleanliness. Then he turned to Iolaus and Jason, now on their feet. He looked them over with mock sympathy, fingering their dirty clothes with a sigh.

Iolaus drew his head back when Blasius reached for his face. A guard, a hand laced through Iolaus' hair, yanked his head back. "This is the one from yesterday," informed the guard, bowing his head.

"The one with the all the energy?" asked Blasius, running a hand down Iolaus' face, caressing his cheek and holding his chin. The guard nodded, provoking a smile from his leader. Iolaus tried to move away. "Don't," warned Blasius, shaking his head. "It's so unbecoming." Then he stepped back, roughly releasing Iolaus' chin.

"Tie him up!" ordered Blasius with a flick of his wrist. The guard obeyed, dragging Iolaus to the wheel.

"No!" cried Jason, but he stopped himself immediately. Memories from the previous night slammed into his mind. Speaking up would only make if worse for his friend. As hard as it was for Jason, he kept his mouth closed. He started biting his lip till he drew blood. Anything to keep himself from repeating last night's incident.

Iolaus was thrown against the wheel by the guard. He was unable to fight back, but he decided he didn't have to help either. Using his sickness as an allie, he let his body go limp, making it difficult for the guard to strap him to the spokes. It was a small thing, but frustrating the guy gave him a little joy. And when the guard raised his arm to tie up, Iolaus let it fall to his side. He even let his knees buckle, playing the role of the passive resistor. It finally took three guards to get Iolaus into position. Two of them tied him up, as the other held him upright.

And when the show was over, and the guard was in position- whip in hand...

Jason closed his eyes.

The slaves watched in silence from their knees.

Another guard removed Iolaus' vest.

Blasius admired his manicured nails.

Iolaus heard the crack of the whip. His muscles tensed.

Nothing.

Crack.

Nothing again.

Iolaus gritted his teeth. The guard was toying with him. "Just do it!" he cried, pressing his forehead against the rim of the wheel. He heard someone laugh, either the guard with the whip or Blasius, he couldn't be sure. And he didn't much care. He just wanted it over with. And the sooner they started, the sooner he would get his wish.

"Oh, you would like that wouldn't you?" teased Blasius, stroking the long blond hair of the slave on the wheel. And when Iolaus opened his eyes, Blasius smiled mockingly. "You're a fighter aren't you?" he asked. "I can see it in your eyes. But you won't be for very long. Claudius will make sure of that," he finished, turning to the guard with the whip.

Crack.

Iolaus squeezed his eyes shut. But again, nothing. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, opening his eyes, staring into Blasius' face.

"Oh- oh so very much," replied Blasius. "You see, the anticipation can be so much worse than the punishment itself, don't you think?" He paused, cleared his throat. "When I'm done with you, they're gonna crown you the 'Ghost of Greece'. Through you, I will teach everyone who the Almighty is around here."

Iolaus swallowed hard and turned away. "Whether it's the Gods or you, I have to die sometime," he said, his voice low, filled with hatred. "But at least I die with dignity. You're nothing but a goon, which is fear under another name."

Blasius stepped back slowly, smoothing down his robes. "You may proceed, Claudius," he said, the words rolling off his tongue like syrup- thick with disdain and repulsion.

Crack.

Jason's eyes flew open.

*** *** ***

As they approached the small hut, the cloaked figured slipped into the darkness of the abode. Hercules and Lilith shared a quick glance before picking up their pace, reaching the front door as it was slammed in their faces. Lilith rapped purposefully on the door, as Hercules turned back to Cheiron, now heading up the path. The Centaur walked casually, as if time were not of the essence, and Hercules could feel his eagerness rising as he watched his mentor taking his sweet time.

"He slammed the door in our face," Hercules said, pointing to the door, and hoping his words would speed his teacher along.

But they didn't. Cheiron sauntered up on his own time, his face expressing the epitome of calmness. "Well, I would too if two strangers came bounding up to my front door," replied Cheiron, crossing his arms over his chest to demonstrating his exasperation.

Hercules bit his lip, nodded. "Good point," he coughed, slightly embarrassment. He turned to Lilith still knocking on the door. "Lilith," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her back slightly. "Maybe we should approach this differently. I mean, this Delphius probably hasn't heard the news that we mean him no harm."

"Right," nodded Lilith, resignedly stopping her door harassment. Then, cupping her hands over her mouth, she drew in a deep breath. "Delphius!" she cried, causing Hercules to cover his ears. "We know you're in there! We just want to talk to you! We mean you no harm!" She dropped her make-shift megaphone and turned to Hercules. "Was that better?"

Hercules smiled caustically, nodding his head. "Oh yeah," he replied, leaning his face close to Lilith's. "If he doesn't come out now, I don't know what will encourage him."

Cheiron, noting that both his cadets lacked the simple eloquence of tactfulness, stepped between them and rapped lightly on the door frame. "Delphius," he said, in a calm, pleasant voice. "My name is Cheiron. I apologize for the behavior of my two cadets, but they are harmless. We are harmless. We only wish to speak to you... And perhaps help."

An awkward moment later, the door pulled back slowly. Only a crack at first, but then completely, as an invitation for the three strangers to enter.

"Well, that's another way of doing it," conceded Lilith under her breath, as she stepped over the mantle.

Cheiron allowed Hercules to enter next, nodding his head for the cadet to take the lead. He followed right behind, mindful of his hind legs as he stepped through the narrow doorway. Once inside, he let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the small hut. There were a few windows scattered around the one room home, but they allowed barely any light to filter in, having been covered with thick, dark material. When his eyes adjusted, he noticed a table in the center of the room, of which Hercules and Lilith were now standing beside. A fireplace was burning to his left, heating up what might have been Delphius's meal, for Cheiron could smell the enticing aroma wafting in the air. To his right was a small bed covered in mosaic patchwork quilts and several pillows, each delicately embroidered in intricate patterns. But there was one thing missing, noted Cheiron with a frown. The cloaked figure.

He turned around, once again mindful of his extreme size in the small hut, and noticed the hooded figure standing behind the open door. Smiling, Cheiron nodded to the home owner, hoping to put them at ease. It worked, or so it seemed, because the mysterious figure finally closed the door and walked briskly across the floor to the table where they pulled out a seat and sat down.

"What do you want?!" came a deep forced voice from under the dark hood. "I have other things to do rather than entertain the likes of you."

Hercules cleared his throat and tentatively pulled out the other chair at the table. He raised his eyebrows, pointing at the chair, silently asking if he could have a seat. The figure, keeping their head bowed forward, making it difficult to see their face, shrugged. Hercules sat himself down, lacing his fingers as he rested his elbows on the table. "Delphius, right?" he asked, carefully.

Again, the only response was a shrug.

Hercules turned to Cheiron, who reciprocated with a nod to continue. "Well, we're gonna run with this as if you are Delphius," continued Hercules, turning back to the host, who was now sitting with their arms crossed defiantly over their chest. "We aren't hear to hurt you," he said, trying unsuccessfully to peek under the hood. "We're looking for friends of ours. Maybe you've seen them? They went missing awhile ago when they were fishing. We think they may have been kidnapped by the same people who kidnapped the men of your village." As the words came out, Hercules found himself becoming suspicious of the figure sitting across the table from him. He looked at Lilith, then to the bed on the other side of the room. Something did not add up.

"I am Delphius," conceded the cloaked figure, the voice still forced and overly deep. "But I don't see how I can be of any service to you."

"Look, mister!" said Lilith pointedly, leaning over to brace her hands on the table. "We don't have that much time. There's no guessing what could be happening to our friends, or any of the other missing men, right now. We don't have time to beat around the bush. And as I see it, you should be happy to help us. Cause you seem to be the most fortunate man in this village." Lilith paused, stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes," she continued, her voice laced with cynicism. "I know it was you that rode past us into town earlier. And from the way you were riding that horse, I'd say you are a pretty fit man, and you should be thankful you weren't taken with the rest of the men in this village. Now... A boy out there mentioned your name. Maybe he thought you could help us, I don't know. But I don't think he would have singled you out if he didn't. So, are you gonna tell us what you know or not?"

The only response Lilith and her speech received was a muffled grunt and more shoulder shrugging. The cadet threw her arms in the air and turned away in a huff.

Cheiron, having watched the inquisition with trepidation, stepped up to the table, holding his chin in hand. "They didn't need you, did they?" he asked, carefully and with a softness he usually reserved for delicate matters.

Delphius shifted, but didn't respond.

"Was your brother or father taken?" Cheiron continued. "Or perhaps, your husband?"

Lilith and Hercules shared a confused look before starring back at their teacher. Then Hercules looked back at the bed with the scattered pillows. He hung his head, ashamed that he hadn't noticed it quicker. Delphius was female.

The four people in the small hut remained still for several moments, each letting the last question hang in the air like a sacrilegious assertion had just been made. It wasn't until Delphius pushed her chair back and stood, when noise finally broke the silence.

"What is it to you?!" Delphius spat, her voice now revealing the true nature of her gender. It was soft, slightly husky, but definitely feminine. She crossed the room, stopping at the fireplace to fiddle with the pot brewing over the fire. She started stirring it with vigor, as if the end of the world would come if she didn't mix the ingredients just so. After a moment she turned back, letting her composure relax as she let out a deep breath. "I can't help you," she said quietly. "Now would you please go and leave me alone."

Hercules rose from the table and walked over to Delphius. But when he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she flinched, stepping away immediately. Hercules drew his hand back, making a mental note not to do that again. "Delphius," he said. "If you can't help us, that's fine. Well, it's not fine, but... well, you know. But if you can help, if you can tell us something that might at least set us in the right direction, we would appreciate it greatly." He looked at her with the most pleading eyes he could.

But they fell on blind eyes. Delphius still held her head down, hiding her face. And this was when Cheiron felt a woman's touch was needed. He looked to Lilith for support, hoping she would now restrain her temper and frustration.

Lilith got the hint and crossed the room to stand next to Delphius. "There's something horrible going on here," she said softly, mentally kicking herself for being so rude earlier. For all she knew, Delphius had lost a loved one through all this, and still angry at the world for tearing her life apart. Lilith choose her next words carefully. "I know what it's like to lose those close to you," she continued. "I lost my own brother and father, and I can relate to your pain. But refusing to help us cause you're angry is not the way to do this. Maybe we can help you find..."

Lilith was cut off as Delphius stamped her foot and rushed past her, making a bee-line across the room. "I didn't lose anyone!" she stated, her back to the three visitors. "Not this way anyhow. I can't help you, now would you please leave," she finished , her voice softening.

Cheiron drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Sorry to have bothered you," he replied. "We will leave." He slowly turned himself around, waving to his two cadets to follow. But he wasn't quite finished with Delphius yet. She had been adamant about not showing her face, and that left Cheiron with an uncertain feeling. There were several reasons why she would do this, but first and foremost in Cheiron's mind, was that she didn't want them to recognize her.

"Come on Hercules, Lilith," he said purposely, so that Delphius was sure not to ignore him. "We will have to find someone else to help us find Jason and Iolaus," he concluded, sure to state everyone's name loud and clear. He didn't expect anything sudden, but he suspected that he would get some sort of reaction from Delphius when she recognized the names. But surely she did not need to hear Hercules and Lilith's names in order to recognize them, they were standing right before her. It was the other two names that he hoped would elicit a response.

Nothing happened with Delphius, except a slight shift in her weight, but Hercules and Lilith took the statement as an invitation to follow their teacher outside. But not before saying good-bye to their host, who refused to acknowledge them with so much as a nod. She was too deep in reflection to notice.

Outside, the two cadets felt it was their duty to air their opinions about what had just transpired. "I know that girl knows something," stated Lilith, planting her foot firmly on the ground, indicating that she wasn't about to move any further.

Hercules stood beside her, also showing his reservations about leaving. "That boy mentioned her name for a reason," he said, looking at Cheiron. "I think if we push her a little further she might tell us something we need to know."

Cheiron crossed his arms, watching expectantly over his cadet's heads at the front door of the house. Just as he had predicted, his last words provoked a reaction. In the doorway, hooded, and now hefting a large pack over her shoulder and a bow in her right hand, was the woman. A small smile spread across the Centaur's face as he nodded at their old friend, her face now recognizable, barely, in the daylight.

Hercules and Lilith watched their mentor's facial expression carefully, and finally realizing someone was behind them, spun around.

Lilith's jaw dropped, her eyes widened in surprise.

Hercules squinted, as if the action would somehow make the sight before him more real. "Mila?" he asked, even though there was no question in his mind.

*** *** ***

With much effort, Jason hoisted the large, precisely chiseled concrete slab into place. His work partner, immensely weaker than him, grimaced outwardly, rubbing his shoulder as he rotated it behind his back. Iolaus wouldn't have had problems with that. He thought bitterly, looking at the man disdainfully. The fact that Iolaus wasn't there, made Jason hate the new guy even more. It was like he had been physically replaced. But to Jason, Iolaus was Iolaus, and could never be replaced.

It was nearly sundown, which meant they would soon be herded back underground, and, Jason hoped, he would see Iolaus again. After the beating, Blasius had left Iolaus strapped to the wheel, unconscious, bleeding and exposed to the sun's burning rays. As far as Jason knew, he was still there. When it had all been over, when Blasius and the guard Claudius had had their fill, Jason and the rest of the slaves had been sent back to work with the lesson fresh in their minds. There was nothing he could have done.

But Jason couldn't shake the images, no matter how hard he tried to drive them away by pre-occupying his mind. He worked with vigor, with energy, with a purpose. Anything to keep him from charging Blasius and his men and ripping their limbs off. But in the end, he knew that would get him no where, aside from a one way ticket on the river Styxx. And he wasn't in that much of a rush to rub Charon's bunions again. He also knew he couldn't take everyone out, which would be mandatory if he did attack. Cause sure enough, the guards would exact their revenge on the remaining innocent prisoners. And even in the after life, Jason knew he couldn't live with himself if he caused the death of another prisoner here at 'Chateau HellHole'.

So he resigned himself to work and wait until he could return to the cave. He had to believe Iolaus would be there, most likely in severe pain, but at least there. And when the guards called for the roundup of slaves, Jason was the first in line. But it seemed to take forever to gather everyone this evening, as if the other prisoners were purposely taking their time filing into their designated groups. Eventually his cave mates were all present and accountant for, and their assigned guards shuffled them towards the underground entranceway.

As much as Jason had been anticipating this moment, when it finally came, he couldn't move. The sudden realization that Iolaus may not be there, finally dawned on him. Ever since his last glimpse of Iolaus strapped to the wheel, Jason had hoped so much that he would see him again. So much in fact, that he began to believe that indeed he would. The possibility of otherwise seemed unreal, till now.

When a guard shoved him from behind, Jason finally took a step forward, falling into place with the other slaves. He was in a daze, shaking, and his mouth extremely dry. Oh please, please, for the love of Zeus, please let Iolaus be there. He prayed silently as he followed the guards on weak legs. And when they passed through the compound, traversing by the castle where the wheel was still positioned up against the wall, Jason's anxiety intensified.

The wheel was empty.

Jason didn't know if that was a good sign, but hoped it was. He thought about asking one of the guards if they knew anything, but decided against it, not sure if he was truly ready to know.

When they reached the opening to the underground cave network, Jason hesitated before stepping into the gaping maw. A cold shiver ran down his spine, and not just because the temperature had suddenly dropped. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and his pace slowed once more. The closer he got to his cavern, the more worried he became, his anxiety growing with each precarious step.

Oh please, Zeus, let him be there.

Slowed almost to a crawl, the other prisoners in his cave bumped and jostled him as they passed him by, eager to get to their beds. Jason didn't care. He was too deep in silent prayer to take any notice of them. Just let him be there. I'm not asking for much. You don't have to cure him, you don't have to heal him, just let him be there. Iolaus doesn't deserve to die like this. No one does. Well, maybe Blasius, but that's another story. Right now, I'm beggin you, I'm pleading with you Zeus, just let Iolaus be there.

Having said his piece, Jason closed his eyes. Running a hand along the dirt wall for direction and support, he continued towards the opening to his cavern. Suddenly, the wall disappeared under his touch. He had finally reached his destination.

He froze.

Jason didn't think he could do it, but it was now or never. And since the guards were yelling at him to get a move on, he really had no choice. Tentatively, Jason stepped up to the cave's opening, stopping short of actually entering. He could see inside, but not completely, the dirt walls comprising the entranceway hid at least sixty percent of the internal view. Trying to gather enough strength to make the last step of his journey, Jason drew in a deep breath, holding it as his right hand reached up and grabbed his vest over his heart.

The other prisoners had already entered, leaving him alone at the mantle with his hesitations. Jason tried to read their reactions, to see if they would show him any indication that his friend was in the cave. But they didn't care. For all Jason knew, the prisoners in his cave wanted Iolaus dead- and him too for that matter. They hadn't forgiven them for the other night's incident, and most likely never would. Most of them didn't even look back at Jason as they settled in for the night.

All except one. One man took the time to pause, turn around and lock eyes with Jason. And Jason starred back, begging with his eyes for any indication that Iolaus was in the cave. The man finally smiled, or sneered, Jason couldn't tell. And before he had a chance to studied it further for what it was, the man had turned away.

Jason gritted his teeth, made one more desperate plea to Zeus, and took the last step. Realizing he still didn't have the view he so needed, he took another step forward, his heart slamming against his chest. And when he saw no sign of Iolaus in front of him, he turned around quickly. For now that he was actually there, not even his own fear could hold him back from finding his friend any longer.

He spun himself around, his eyes searching every crevasse and corner of the cave. Finally stopping, Jason balled his hands into fists in front of his chest, closed his eyes and drew in a very deep breath. As he let it slowly escape his lips, he re-opened his eyes and turned them heavenward.

"Thank-you," he whispered, his whole heart behind the simple, yet most profound words.

*** *** ***

Another long strenuous day had passed, but this time, the search party had gotten somewhere. As Cheiron and the rest of the group gathered around the fire to discuss tomorrow's activities, there was a certain feeling of accomplishment amongst them. They had been searching for weeks, but it wasn't until now, this day, that they had learned something directly related to finding their men. It had been hard for Cheiron to convince his party that now, more than ever, they had to proceed carefully. Hercules, his biggest opponent, had argued about continuing ahead, but Cheiron had stood his ground. He admired his pupil's eagerness and drive, but he also knew it was clouding his judgment.

The easy part had been looking for clues as to what happened to the missing men. Over the next few days the search party would really be put to the test. Everything Cheiron had taught, or tried to teach them, would come into focus now. If they were going to successfully rescue Jason, Iolaus and the presumed rest, they would have to push ahead with extreme caution. Cheiron knew this, and he knew the rest of the search party did as well, but in their youth, they tended to want immediate action. It had taken every ounce of Cheiron's patience, which was considerable, to keep them from tying him up and taking off on their own. But eventually, he had been able to convince them the wiser way.

Delphius had been very crucial in this matter. Her constant reminding that she merely knew which direction to go, not a precise map of where they were, finally sunk into the heads of the anxious cadets. And now, they were sitting around the fire discussing how to proceed, and how they were all too excited to sleep.

Cheiron watched his group with pride. And as his thoughts and memories about his young cadets became more rampant, a smile spread across his face. But as his eyes wandered over the crowd, he noticed two people missing and his smile quickly turned into a frown. He looked around for the cadet and newcomer, and found them leaning against a tree just outside the perimeter of camp. Cheiron's smile returned. It looked like Delphius was ready to talk, after hours of refusing Hercules' insistent urging.

***

"Mila no longer exists, Hercules," sighed Delphius, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Mila was an Amazon. A warrior and pig-headed, foolish girl who couldn't see outside her own paradigm. Delphius is who I am now."

"It's a nice name," smiled Hercules, placating the girl into anger.

"Oh come on, Hercules," rebuked Delphius, leaning her head against the tree trunk. "You don't care about my name. You want to know the why's and how's of it all. So please, don't patronize me."

Hercules picked up a pebble lying at his feet, rubbed it between his fingers then threw it away. "You know me to well, Mil... I mean, Delphius," he conceded, selecting another pebble from the ground. But this time, he held it in front of his face, letting the moonlight reflect off it's smooth surface. He stared at the stone as if it were the most magical thing in the world. But only because he really didn't know what else to do. Delphius was not making this the most comfortable situation, but Hercules just had to know. After the initial shock of seeing her had worn off, the questions and assumptions had began to take over his mind. And right now, he was refusing to leave this spot until he found out everything. Otherwise, his mind would be pre-occupied and useless tomorrow- on the day when he needed it to be at it's most sharpest.

"Look," continued Delphius. "I told you I wasn't an Amazon anymore. That part of my life is over. I've moved on and made some decisions in my life. Isn't that enough?"

"No," replied Hercules. "It's not even skimming the surface."

Delphius closed her eyes. "All right," she humphed. "I was kicked out of the Amazons. Are ya happy now?"

"Happy? No. Curious? Yes," replied Hercules, nudging her arm with his shoulder.

"It's a long story," continued Delphius, adjusting her position against the tree, her eyes still closed. She reached up and tugged her hood further over her head to block the annoying moonlight from her eyes. "I found this village, Kaprinia. Then I found my father... My real father. Amazons didn't like this arrangement and kicked me out. So, I went back to the village where everyone hates me." Delphius paused and spread her arms, palms skyward. "And then you guys arrived, and here I am. The end."

Hercules cleared his throat, nudged her again.

"What?!" exclaimed Delphius, finally opening her eyes.

"Somehow, I don't think that's the whole story," answered Hercules, playing like a father trying to get the truth from his child. "And if it is, I think you need to work on your narrative skills. It's kinda lacking in certain areas."

Delphius let her head drop, her shoulders slump. "You're not gonna give up, are ya?"

Hercules laughed and rubbed his hands together. "No."

"Fine," replied Delphius, keeping her tone short and determined. "My father lived in Kaprinia, and the villagers had him killed by an Amazon tribe. I wanted to avenge his death with the help of my fellow Amazons, but they merely laughed in my face and told me to suck it up. My father meant nothing according to them. I felt differently and went searching for his murderers."

"And you're still looking for them?" asked Hercules, knowing that if he didn't ask, the information wouldn't be volunteered.

"I found them," replied Delphius matter-of-factly. "It was my tribe. And when I returned to them for some sort of vengeance..." she let the words hang, hoping that Hercules would figure out the rest on his own.

"They refused?" he prodded.

Delphius shook her head in exasperation. Apparently, Hercules didn't get the big picture. "They kicked me out," she replied, enunciating each word carefully. "There was a fight," she continued, as if speaking to a child. "I lost. They sparred my life, but told me never to show my face around them again. So, I returned to Kaprinia."

Hercules fidgeted in his spot, mentally reviewing everything Delphius had told him. Finally, after making note of the remaining holes in the story, he turned to look at her. "You returned to the village where you said everybody hates you?"

Delphius ran a hand down her face. "You're killing me here," she huffed.

Hercules smiled. "It's a gift."

"I had no where else to go," pointed out Delphius, continuing reluctantly.

"You could have come back to the Academy," offered Hercules, sympathetically.

Delphius shook her head. "I was too ashamed," she replied solemnly. "I'm a disgrace to warriors. I couldn't even avenge one man's death. I wanted to wallow in my own self-pity. And what better way than to be with those that hate you." She paused, waiting for her old friend to ask the next question, but he didn't. And now that she had started telling her story, it felt good to finally let it out. She actually continued without further prompt.

"You see, my father wasn't the most precious man in the world. But he was my father, and I felt a certain loyalty to him. He did things. Nasty things. He was a thief and con-artist, and been terrorizing this village for months before they they finally did away with him. The people of Kaprinia knew I was his daughter, but refused to believe that the apple can fall far from the tree. But I stayed anyway, just to spite them. I was feeling hateful, vengeful and petty. And the only thing that made me happy, was making other people angry. Which was why I never said anything when I saw their men taken that night." Delphius drew in a deep breath and leaned forward to wrap her arms around her legs. "I felt they were getting what they deserved."

"And now?" asked Hercules, carefully.

"And now... I don't. I haven't for awhile, but as each day passed, it became harder and harder to confess what I'd seen and what I knew. And of course, the longer I put it off, the worse the consequences would have been for me when I did tell them. I finally reserved to set out and find them on my own. You know, bring them back and show these villagers that I'm not a bad person." She let her voice trail off as she leaned back against the tree. "And maybe convince them to accept me. Truth be told, I kinda like it there. And I'd like to be part of a family again. Maybe even live a normal life."

Hercules leaned back against the tree so they were shoulder to shoulder. "You could come back to the Academy," he stated again.

But Delphius shook her head. "No. I'm no longer