Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 02 (14 page)

Helmet met jaw, and the last thing Iolaus saw was either his soul on its way to Hades or a hell of a gorgeous cloud floating over Themon.

Hercules, on the other hand, saw nothing but a tangle of thrashing limbs and swords.

He did, however, feel the weight of three men landing on his back, bending him double as they flailed wildly whatever they could flail, except their swords, which they dropped immediately once they realized that by flailing them they were likely to puncture each other-Hercules managed to drag one of them around to the ground, then propel himself up and back as fast as he could. When the ungainly pile hit the wall, Hercules staggered forward, using his right hand to stop himself from falling.

A quick step, and he was standing upright; a quick turn, and his hands were ready for whatever they'd come up with next.

He didn't count on the plank Rotus carried.

Well, damn, he thought just before it smacked him.

Stunned, he dropped heavily onto his rump, hands out behind him.

He wanted desperately to get back on his feet, but nothing seemed to work except his eyes, and they were letting in far too much light. Yet, paradoxically, he felt blinded, even though he could see swift-moving shadows through the sudden glare; his ears rang, even though he thought he heard voices raised in alarm; and when his right arm finally gave way, the fall to the ground seemed to take forever.

Once he hit, instinct brought up his right arm for protection against whatever Rotus had in mind for an encore. When nothing happened, he felt his brain throb with bewilderment.

That was when an arm eased around his shoulders and helped him to sit up.

"You okay?"

He blinked, squinted, blinked again several times, and tried to clear his head by shaking it, although not so hard that it fell off.

"I'll get some water," said whoever was holding him

"Thanks," he said.

That he felt foolish was an understatement.

That he couldn't deny the anger that tightened his jaw made him almost as upset as feeling foolish.

Anger sometimes made him forget just how powerful he was.

He inhaled slowly, deeply, several times, and started when a hand cupped the back of his head while another held a bowl of water to his lips. He drank gratefully, the cool liquid soon reviving him enough to be able to look into the face of a dark-haired woman without getting dizzy.

"Bea," she said with a shy smile.

"Thank you, Bea." He frowned. "Iolaus?"

There was no need for a reply. He spotted his friend on the ground a few feet away, a lovely blonde leaning over him. "It's all right, Herc," Iolaus called weakly. "I'm just going over my funeral arrange-ments."

Hercules grinned and, with Bea's nervous help, got back to his feet.

The rebels were gone, and at either end of the alley he could see groups of people staring and whispering.

Then he saw Holix.

The young man lay where he had been thrown, conscious now and groaning. Hercules hurried to his side and looked him over. Although there was a frightening amount of blood, most of it seemed to come from a wound beneath his hair. His eyes were puffed closed, and his lower lip was split.

Anger rose again.

"Iolaus, get up." Hercules scooped Holix easily into his arms. "We're going back to the inn."

Iolaus didn't argue. He did, however, take his time standing, and seemed to lean rather heavily against the woman whose offer of assistance he accepted with a feeble and somewhat overdramatic nod.

Hercules paused when he reached them. It took a moment to place the woman. The last time he had seen her, she had worn an eye patch. "Venitia?" he inquired.

After scooting around to Iolaus' other side, she nodded.

"He's faking," Hercules told her with a brief smile and a wink.

"Hey!" Iolaus protested. "I'm wounded here."

"So is Holix, and he's not in good shape." He turned to Bea. "Will you come with us?"

"Yes."

"Can I trust you?"

She looked shocked. "Of course!"

"Sorry, but things are a little confusing around here today."

A tentative smile was her acceptance of the apology, and he hurried off, cradling Holix against his jarring strides as best he could. The crowd at the alley's mouth parted quickly, and it took only a few minutes to reach the Red Boar. As soon as he walked in, Orena lumbered over from behind the bar, demanded an explanation, and without waiting to receive one, preceded them up the stairs to Hercules'

room.

"On the bed," she ordered. When Holix was down, she knelt on the floor beside him and grunted. "Took a good one in the chops here." Deft fingers parted the blood-and-grime-matted hair. "Gods, this is ugly.

Not bad, though."

Hercules hovered at the foot of the bed, not smiling at all when she scowled at him.

"This is an inn," she told him brusquely. "I get more busted heads and broken bones than you can shake a sheep at." Finally she smiled. "I can fix him up, don't worry." With that, she ordered Bea and Venitia down to the kitchen for hot water and clean rags, pulled out a knife tucked into her rope girdle, and began to slice the tunic away from Holix's chest. "How's the little guy?"

"Hey!" Iolaus protested from the chair where Venitia had left him. And frowned when he realized he'd been saying that a lot. "I'm fine," he added grumpily, and touched his jaw gingerly. "No thanks to Hercules."

Hercules swung his head around. "What?" You threw that guy too far," Iolaus complained. "I was in a hurry, if you remember."

"I could have handled them, you know."

"You called for help."

"Boys!" Orena snapped with a laugh. "Do you mind?"

"Yeah," Holix muttered. And went rigid when the innkeeper prodded his ribs with gentle fingers.

"You're the horse trainer, aren't you?" she asked, brushing some hair out of his eyes.

"Yes."

"You ride in the parade?"

"I hope so."

"Wear a mask," she suggested. "You'll scare the children."

Holix tried to laugh, coughed, moaned, and passed out.

Orena settled back on her heels and dusted her palms against her chest. "That's better. Easier to work on when they're unconscious."

It was obvious that she wanted them to leave. Hercules jerked his head toward the door, and Iolaus followed him into the narrow passageway.

"What happened?"

Iolaus pushed his hands back through his hair. "Some people saw the fight and started yelling, Venitia said. Rotus took off."

"We were lucky."

Iolaus touched his chin. "Speak for yourself." He glanced at the doorway. "You think that's Hera's doing?"

"No. This is something else. A complication."

"Of course. There's always a complication. Easy, Herc, is not the way you live your life."

"Maybe, maybe not." Hercules' expression hardened. ' 'But there are things we have to check on before tonight. There has to be a way to keep Holix's girl from ..." He didn't have to finish.

"Things to check on," Iolaus echoed glumly. "We checked on Holix, and nearly got sliced. If you want to check the city, we'll probably blow it up."

Hercules grinned, slapped his friend's shoulder, and hurried off to meet Bea and Venitia in the main room. He asked them to keep an eye on Holix.

"Where are you going?" Venitia asked Iolaus.

"To the crowning site," Hercules answered.

"You'll need a guide," she told Iolaus.

"We'll need a guide," Iolaus agreed.

"I've been near there," Hercules said. "I think I can find the way."

"She might know a shortcut," Iolaus suggested hopefully. "And after what we've been through, it could help."

"I know a shortcut," Venitia volunteered.

Hercules looked from one to the other, and from the corner of his eye didn't miss the knowing grin on Bea's face. Taking the hint a few beats late, she offered to watch Holix herself. With Orena around, she added, she didn't think Rotus would try anything. Before Hercules could argue, she also suggested a mes-sage be sent to Holix's girl; it wouldn't be all that difficult to learn where she lived.

"Settled," Iolaus proclaimed with a clap. "Nothing to it once you get organized."

Before Hercules realized what had happened, Iolaus and Venitia had hustled him into the street, where he listened with growing alarm to the directions she gave to the crowning site. He'd have to be blind and blind stupid not to know she wanted to spend as much time with Iolaus as she could, but time was short, and none of it could be wasted on dalliance with females. There were lives at stake.

He cleared his throat as meaningfully as he could without actually adding a pop to Iolaus' head for em-phasis.

"She's only kidding, Herc," he said. "We'll be there before you know it."

"I was only kidding," Venitia agreed. "Follow me. It won't take long."

"Okay," Hercules said. "But take it easy." A tilt of his head indicated the crowds the boulevard held.

Iolaus didn't miss it.

With that number of people in robes, cloaks, and voluminous fancy dress, it would be easy to hide a dagger, or a sword, until the last moment.

This time there would be no warning.

And nothing they could do to stop it.

By the time they reached the site, Hercules was ready to climb the nearest wall, or go headfirst down the cliff without bothering with a rope.

It wasn't the route; that had been fine. Venitia had led them through streets and alleys she knew wouldn't be jammed with people, and it wasn't long before they were standing under the wall of trees.

Neither was it the increasingly complicated problems they faced. That part was easy—Hercules simply decided to stop thinking about their problems, because he knew that whatever their solutions, they wouldn't materialize until the moment was right. And by thinking about them as much as he had been, he took his attention away from his immediate surroundings.

No, it wasn't the route and it wasn't his complicated problems. It was Venitia.

Every so often she would drop back from Iolaus' side and ask, "Is he married?"

"No," he'd answered the first time.

She had grinned, blushed, and rushed to catch up.

The second time, he'd answered "No" with a shrug that he had hoped would tell her Iolaus wasn't looking to
get
married, either, and she was wasting her time.

The third time, he just said "No."

The fourth time, he grunted.

After that, he couldn't remember doing anything except giving her looks that would have fried someone less determined than she.

It would be impossible to count the number of times he had witnessed the astonishing effect his friend had on women. They either passed him off as a decent-looking kind of short guy who happened to be Hercules' traveling buddy—a reaction that irked Iolaus to no end and produced a lot of grumbling ti-rades—or the lust flame was turned so high, it scorched half the countryside—a reaction that usually turned Iolaus' brain to mush.

Venitia, however, was in a class by herself.

This, Hercules reckoned with a mixture of amusement and mild alarm, wasn't merely a reaction to Iolaus and his charm, it was the onset of an all-out matrimonial campaign.

"Doesn't look like much, does it?" Iolaus commented when they arrived, leaning against a gray-barked tree, arms folded loosely over his chest.

Hercules agreed.

The site was a simple open area of low grass that led to the edge of a seaward cliff. Far to his right Hercules could see the fishing community at the east end of the bay; to the left nothing but sand and windblown plain.

There was no decoration, no shrine, no indication at all that this was a special place.

Venitia lowered herself to the ground, shivering slightly.

Although the sun still shone brightly, its effect had been muted by the deepening haze. The light wind that blew in off the water brought with it a faint chill, making it feel more like twilight than the middle of the day.

"Wait here," Hercules told them, and stepped away from the trees.

"Are you sure you're not married?" he heard Venitia ask.

He didn't hear Iolaus' answer; he only heard the wind as it swept his hair away from his face and made him squint at the pricks of light that sparked across the water.

At the edge he looked down.

Fifty or sixty feet, he estimated; maybe a little less, maybe a little more.

The line of boulders he had seen the night before with Poseidon was far more imposing now when seen from above. Gulls squatted on some, their feathers puffed against the chill, but each of the tall rocks had a narrow bladelike top, too narrow even for the birds to use with any degree of comfort. He couldn't help thinking of some great beast that had lunged out of the water and buried itself into the cliffside; what was left exposed were the jagged bones of its tail.