LAST WORD
BY MAGGIE
Chapter One
So she got the last word after all. I should have known that she wouldn't let such a defeat stand without some show of defiance. She's Queen of the gods, she can take it out on someone else, can't she? Sure she can.
By my mother, I hate you, Hera.
Why couldn't you let it go, just once? You are the most worthless, scheming, bitter, cruel and twisted ... creature, that there is.
I got back fire, I restored Prometheus, I saved people's lives, I even managed to cure Cheiron with your curse of mortality ...
I guess that's what you must've hated the most; that your destructive power in your fire, gave another creature happiness.
So you took it away from someone else.
All I can say is, thank the Eternal Force of Creation for kids. If it hadn't been for his son, Iolaus might still be as good as dead to us ...
*
The fire burned lower in the pit and the shivering of the woman beside him became more intense, deeper than before. If he couldn't find some way to get the flames to kindle with their usual brightness and warmth, then Ania would die soon, and leave him and their son alone in a world, once complete with three.
He had given up adding more wood to the fire hours ago, realising eventually that doing so made no difference, and if he were to keep the fire alive to any extent, the rest of the wood had to be rationed out or this year's hard Winter would kill all of them.
This thought drove him up from the blankets and hides he had wrapped around himself and his wife, and making sure that he re-covered her quickly again to retain what little heat they did hold, he left the house, unsure of his purpose. He only knew that he could no longer wait for help to come to him; he had to go out and find it and that meant trying to find Hercules.
Iolaus hadn't heard from his best friend for some weeks and he wondered if he was even in the province still. It was possible that he knew of this problem everyone was having with fire and was out there, somewhere, right that minute, doing something about it; but what? What COULD be done? Every homestead in the area had the same problem and some had even lost fire altogether.
On his way he was greeted by some small hope in the shape of light flickering more brightly at the Hera temple, and he diverted his footsteps to go and investigate. As he approached, he saw that there were other local citizens already there, gathered disconsolately near the doors. Coming closer, he recognised one of them.
"Marcus ... What's going on? Do they have fire in the temple or are my eyes playing me tricks?"
Marcus, an older man who had made a living off the land all his life and had a wife and three daughters to support, was looking none too pleased with the whole state of affairs.
"Oh, Iolaus ... Yes, you've guessed it. While the rest of us are losing, or have already lost our fires, the great goddess, Hera and her minions keep their altars bright with private - and wasted - flames. Typical."
Iolaus nodded, intolerance learned from Hercules over the gods in general and Hera in particular, warring with anxiety about Ania, in his eyes. Marcus could only sympathise.
"Ania? She's no better?" he asked.
Iolaus barely shook his head, not wanting to think about what might happen. Instead he asked if Marcus had seen Hercules in the past few days.
It was Marcus' turn to reply in the negative. "No, I'm afraid not. Although I have heard some news from travellers from out of the province, who are staying at the inn, that Hercules has already gone to see Prometheus to find out what's going on."
Iolaus felt a momentary impulse to just drop everything and go try to help his friend - after all, travelling with Hercules and helping him to right wrongs was what he did best - but it was snuffed, as soon as it arose. How could he leave Ania? He was just grateful that their son was away staying with Ania's mother at the moment. Her house was stiflingly warm at the coolest of times because of a unique hot spring that bubbled up under the house, so at least he would be safe from the otherwise freezing conditions.
Realising that he had no choice but to wait and hope that Hercules could find the source of the problem and restore things to their natural balance before they all froze to death. Just knowing that his friend was out there doing something made Iolaus feel a little better and he turned and hurried back to the house.
Without the light of fires to see by, it was difficult to tell immediately if anything was amiss, but he could feel that something was, and he broke into a run as he approached the house. Then he saw it; the front door was standing open. It must have come unfastened and been blown open by a gust of wind.
Iolaus rushed into the house and fell into the crushing fingers of cold dread when he found the bed near the fire empty; Ania was gone. He searched the house, calling her name and trying not to panic, but she was nowhere to be found. Leaving the house once more he began feverishly searching for her. She could not have gone further into town or he would have seen her; perhaps she had gone around back of the house, looking for him.
He cursed himself; he should never have left her. She had already been in a distracted state, not knowing where she was, nor what was happening, when he left her.
There was still a small amount of firelight spilling from the windows at the back of the house and by that Iolaus became aware of Ania's small footprints leading down to the brook. Why had she gone there? If she fell in ...
*
Marcus was on his way home to his own cold, dark little house on the edge of town when a great, harrowing cry rose up to break the stillness of the night air.
It was coming from somewhere nearby, over by the frozen brook which ran past a few of the houses on the edge of town. Obviously someone was in bad trouble and, gathering his cloak a little closer around him, he ran - though the snow made his progress slow and awkward - in the direction of the cry. He almost missed them, a small bundle, low on the bank of the brook. He might not have seen them at all if it had not been for the splash of blue-coloured jacket against the dim greyness.
"Iolaus?"
A pair of desperate blue eyes turned to face him, and it was then that Marcus saw for the first time, the reason for the cry he had heard. Ania, lying still and pale, her clothes soaked through and already beginning to stiffen into ice, was lying in his friend's arms. It was obvious what had happened.
"By the gods, Iolaus, what was she doing in the brook?"
"She must have been thirsty ... Thought we had no water ... Oh, my poor Ania! I shouldn't have left you, even for a second ... Marcus, help me get her into the house, we have to try and get her warm ..."
Between them, they managed easily to carry Ania back to the house, only to find that fate had dealt one final blow to their hope. The house was lightless; when they entered, they discovered that the meagre fire which had flickered there had finally died, and nothing they did would rekindle it.
Like a man possessed, Iolaus searched the house for more hides and blankets to keep Ania warm, but life did not quicken in her, and she did not wake up. Marcus ran for the healer, but when he had examined Ania he had nothing but bad news for them.
A small knot of people had gathered at Iolaus' door in the wake of the disaster, and Marcus shooed them away, sensing that company was the last thing his friend would want.
Having his own family to think of, he knew he had to leave himself. He turned at the door, reluctantly leaving Iolaus, giving him a few final words. "If there's anything you want, Iolaus ... you know where I am. Anything, my friend."
Iolaus barely nodded, unable to speak for the grief which possessed him at that moment. Holding Ania's lifeless body to him and rocking back and forth, as if it were a child he held, he was already descending into memories of his short time with the woman he loved; a woman who couldn't cook, couldn't sew, frightened his lifestock, but who had held his heart with hands as gentle as a shepherdess's, and eyes as knowing as his mother's.
Silent tears trickled one after another, down his cheeks and froze there, unnoticed by him. Memories of happier times possessed him now, and for awhile they took him away from the sadness.
Chapter Two
"Well, Cheiron, you have your wish now, to be mortal; and you're healed as well," I said, as I prepared to leave his friend's house with Deianeira. "What will you do now?"
"Same as I've been doing, I guess, Hercules; I have a good life here, but now I can enjoy it to the full, thanks to you."
"Just come and visit us now and again," I reminded him, and waved him, his wife and their children goodbye.
"I will, my friend, I will," Cheiron called happily after me.
It wasn't too long a journey home again, but with a potentially new wife in my company now, I decided to make a small diversion and visit my best friend, Iolaus, and his family, to share my good news. We arrived at the town as darkness fell, and although there were good fires everywhere, there was a subdued atmosphere, as if the people were recovering from some disaster.
"Perhaps the abscence of fire hit them hard here," speculated Deianeira. "Are there many old people here? Some of them could have been taken by the cold."
"It's possible,"I replied, "and we'll see how we can help in the morning; but right now, I'm in a mood to share my happiness, and if there's one person who's right to share good news with, it's Iolaus. Nothing gets him down. Come on, his house is just at the end of this street."
But there was no welcoming cheer at the house of Iolaus.
Even before we entered, I could tell there was something wrong; no light at the windows, no sounds from within. It wasn't just that the house seemed unnoccupied; I could feel the sadness emanating from the stones as I approached.
"Deianeira; stay here," I cautioned her, "there's something very wrong. I think I should go in alone."
Her smile of anticipation becoming a frown of kindly concern, Deianeira halted her steps and allowed me, her soon-to-be husband, to enter the house on my own.
The sight which greeted me froze my heart and drained my blood into my boots. No fires were lit, and there were leaves and the remnants of snow near the door. Nothing had been done, nothing had been touched, everywhere untidy and neglected. My eyes were drawn to the two figures near the firepit; Iolaus, kneeling on the straw matting on the floor, holding the body of his dead wife in his arms. He was silent, and took no notice of me when I approached him. His eyes were red-rimmed with tears still, though dead, as if he himself had no life in him either. When I spoke to him, he didn't seem to hear.
MY hand on his arm was shrugged off and any attempt to take Ania from him, so that her body could be placed on the bed and away from the litter on the floor, was fiercely rejected, but beyond that, it seemed that my best friend might as well be dead too.
Cut to the quick, I sank to the floor near him, confused and desperate for an answer; some way to bring him back to the land of the living, at least. Finally Deianeira, too worried to wait any longer, appeared at the door and rushed over to me.
"Gods! What's happened?"
"I don't know, Deianeira," I told her, my voice sounding odd in my own ears; like that of a little boy who has been hit by something too serious for him to handle. "I can't get a word out of him; it's like he's in some kind of trance. And Ania's dead ... "
Then, suddenly, I caught sight of something which summoned rage inside me and rising swiftly from the floor I reached down and snatched up something from the firepit.
It was a long peacock tail feather.
I held the feather for a long moment with unashamed hate building inside me, and then, crushing it and dashing the remains to the ground, I fled from the house to address the heavens and my stepmother where I would not disturb the household any further.
"HERA!!! You take the life of my friend's wife, the woman he loved, to spite me, because Zeus would not allow you to kill me!!! You will pay for this!! If it takes the rest of my life I will see you pay for this personally, if I have to come to your house and shake it down around your ears myself!!! You will pay, I promise you!!!"
Deianeira, herself shaken by the strength of the anger she was confronted by, ran out of the house and took hold of my arm, trying to shake some sense into me, I suppose. "Hercules! This isn't getting Iolaus back, is it? What do we do? What will wake him?"
She must have seen the tears and the pain in my eyes, because she suddenly stopped shaking me and began to stroke my arm lovingly, speaking softly, words I barely heard, which yet comforted me. I looked back at her, and slowly the rage receded. Thinking quickly, my gaze returned to the house where Iolaus was still held in the strange grief-induced trance, my mind searching for a way to free him.
In the end, it was Deianeira who provided the answer. "You said they had a son," she reminded me. "Perhaps he would -"
I took hold of the idea like a man drowning, in the hope that the boy might be the one thing which could summon his father from wherever he had retreated to. Swinging around, ready to race off, Deianeira reminded me that first I had to discover the boy's whereabouts.
Marcus, who was hovering nearby in the hope of being some help, came forward and volunteered the necessary information.
"It's at least a two-day journey by the quickest route over the mountains, but it's known as a pretty safe road; no bandits or anything," he finished. "I'd go myself but I'd guess that you could get there before ever I could, Hercules."
"Yes, Marcus, thank you. Will you keep an eye on Deianeira whilst I'm gone? And Iolaus as well?"
"I promise, Hercules. Now hurry, please. Iolaus has been like this two days now, and no-one able to reach him. We're all worried."
I saw that worry plain in the man's eyes and I let it lend almost the wings of Hermes to my feet as I ran.
*
Marcus marvelled at the stamina of the demi-god as Hercules took off at a run, knowing that he would probably keep up that pace for most of the journey.
Once Hercules had disappeared into the forest, Marcus went on over to the house where Deianeira had re-entered and was quietly sweeping up, though she looked very distracted and was obviously tidying up more as a way of keeping herself occupied, than anything else.
"What happened?" she asked him, her curiosity exercised only as a way of discovering if there was any other way of helping.
"It was when all the fire went. Ania was already sick; Iolaus only left her for a short while, " Marcus explained, anxiously pouring out the tragic tale.
"It's obvious that he is blaming himself," Marcus concluded, "but he couldn't have known that she would even have the strength to get up, let alone leave the house."
"It certainly wasn't his fault!" confirmed Deianeira. "There was a peacock feather in the firepit, so we know who's behind this, damn her! Hercules believes that Hera is determined to hurt anyone close to him, because he defeated her plan to destroy fire.
"This was Hera's doing?" gasped Marcus, and backed off instinctively in fear of the Queen of the gods.
Deianeira, in exasperation at the man's fear and ignorance, gave him a stern look and wagged an authoritative finger at him. "Now, don't tell me that you're another one of these fearful nellies who feels he has to run out and sacrifice to the nearest god the moment something goes wrong!"
Marcus stared at her, frozen, as if he expected a lightning bolt to descend from the sky any minute to strike her dead for her impudence.
"And don't look at me like that!" Deianeira reprimanded him. "You know I've always had a sneaking suspiscion that the gods only exist because we think they should exist. If we didn't feel the need to believe, they would probably fade away, you know."
"Er ... yes, you ... you could be right, but ... well, it's been ... nice talking to you, Deianeira," stammered Marcus, backing hurriedly out of the door. It was obvious that he expected Deianeira to go up in a puff of smoke at any moment, and he didn't want to be around when that happened. "... I have something I have to do right now; I'll be back in just a moment ... I mean, I promised Hercules ... "
Deianeira let the man go, taking pity on his terrified state, even if she did find his attitude frustrating. Once Marcus had gone, she returned her attention to her tidying up, and quietly keeping an eye on Iolaus to see if he showed any sign of coming out of that strange trance he was in. She had no idea whether he had eaten or slept since his wife's death, but she doubted it; Hercules had better hurry up fetching the boy, and her idea had better have some effect, or there was a danger that Iolaus would soon be hurrying after Ania on a journey to the Underworld. She had a feeling that her husband-to-be would never forgive himself if that happened, and without Hercules to champion the mortal's cause, Hera might truly win the battle and the war.
*
Cyrus was devastated when I told him about his mother, but I was surprised to find - although, on reflection, I shouldn't have been, knowing Iolaus as I do - that his immediate concern was for his father. I was glad of that, as the boy might indeed be able to help bring back Iolaus from whatever dark place inside that he had fled to, and it would give the boy something other to worry about aside from himself.
He would need time to mourn, but I was hopeful that father and son would be able to do that together ...
It took me a day and a half to return with Cyrus, running there, and running and carrying the boy - as he couldn't have kept up with me - on the way back. I was a little tired when I got back, but not too much so, and I revelled secretly in the sight of Deianeira sitting and kneading some dough just outside the back door. There was a kind of radiance in her face, behind a quite natural cloud of concern for Iolaus. I loved her more each time I saw her. There was no doubt of it, she was the woman I would marry and any time soon would not be quickly enough for me.
Cyrus jumped out of my arms as we approached the house and went running in through the open door, calling for his father. Deianeira looked up as I approached and shook her head sadly; obviously Iolaus was still as I had left him.
"Thank goodness you're back!" she exclaimed as we entered the house. "I tried talking to him, but he doesn't show any sign of hearing me! I hope his son has more luck."
Initially, however, it seemed that Iolaus would reject even Cyrus' presence. The boy ran to his father and flung his arms round him, calling to him, but he elicited no reaction at all. Iolaus remained, blank-eyed stare directed towards the far wall, still and cold; even though Deianeira had heaped blankets around him to keep him warm.
Once more, I knelt beside his friend and holding onto him and Cyrus, added my anxious voice to that of the boy. More determined than ever that Hera not win this battle entirely, I vowed that I would not leave the house until Iolaus had returned to us ...
*
There was someone far off, yelling at him to wake up, but he ignored them. It made no sense anyway; he was awake, so he couldn't imagine what they were yelling at him to wake up for. Besides, it was much nicer here with Ania. There was this picnic they had been on last Summer; out in the middle of a field, which itself was in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere they were going to be disturbed, anyway, and Cyrus had helped him catch three big fish in the stream over yonder, earlier that day.
The sun shone, there was the hint of a cooling breeze, and it was just that time of year when there weren't too many things that needed doing around the farm. He didn't have anything that needed to be forged, not right then, so basically, he was stuck with a lot of free time, which suited him and Ania and Cyrus just fine. He hadn't even heard from Hercules in awhile, so there weren't even any monsters to go and slay. Lying back under a cerulean sky, the gentle buzz of bees in his ears, Iolaus put his hands behind his head and began to drift into a doze.
Dammit, someone was still yelling at him! Why couldn't whoever it was leave him alone? They were ruining his nice day!
In fact ... his nice day seemed to be on the wane all by itself. The sky was filling with clouds and the air had become humid and stifling, and his good mood seemed forever to have drifted off with the good weather. He looked around for Cyrus, but he could no longer see him, although he could hear his voice; he had added his calls to whoever else it was who had started all this. They were both calling his name and asking him to come back.
Go back to where? As Iolaus looked around some more he began more and more, to recognise this place, and it wasn't as nice as he'd first thought. In fact, he knew something bad had happened here, and he thought it might be a good idea to leave. Getting up, he looked down at Ania, offering his hand to help her up, from where she had been dozing beside him, and suddenly stepped back in horror; she was encased in a shining block of ice. He began pounding on it with his fists, but it was so hard, that he made not a dint on the surface.
What was happening to him? How had all this come to be? In the silence of his fear, he heard the voices clearly for the first time. That other voice belonged to Hercules ...
Slowly, he began to remember what had happened, and as the death of Ania replayed itself in his mind, the sadness fell upon him once more. This time however, he felt that, no matter how much it hurt now, it was time to recognise the truth and live with it, instead of running away. It had been so easy to just run away ...
*
" .... Iolaus .... Iolaus! Can you hear me?"
His eyes flickered, jump-starting my heart again; then opened. Slowly he raised his head and looked at me.
"Hercules? What the ... What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Iolaus, you're alright!! I thought we'd lost you for good!"
He looked pale and shaky and still weighted down with grief, but there was at least life in his eyes now, where I had thought to see none again. I told him about my victory and the return of Prometheus' fire to the world, but that Hera had obviously decided to take a nasty little revenge on my best friend.
"You mean ... Ania died ... because of Hera!!?" he gasped out, anger replacing the sadness in his eyes.
I nodded and showed him the peacock feather. "I found this in your firepit, when we - er, when I returned. You were in some kind of trance."
Iolaus nodded abstractedly, still torn between rage and sadness. "Er ... yeah; I couldn't face what had happened, so I just kinda ... Well, I don't know. All I can remember for awhile are nice ... I guess they were memories."
"But you've been like this for almost four days now!" I replied, thinking that even Iolaus wouldn't do that much running away. "I wouldn't be surprised if this trance wasn't something to do with Hera as well!"
"It was so easy ..." recalled Iolaus. "As if something overwhelming was calling to me, so that I couldn't fight it, because I didn't want to. They were just memories, at first," he remembered, "but then, it was as if I just fell into a dream."
"Sounds like something Hera would dream up," piped up Deianeira.
Iolaus looked over at her for the first time, and then looked up at me, in puzzlement. "Hercules ...?"
Hades! What was I going to tell him? It seemed totally insensitive to say that Deianeira was the woman I was going to marry, when Iolaus had just lost his own wife, so I settled for a basic introduction, giving Deianeira the bent eye and praying that she would get the message.
Thankfully, she did. Explaining she had been someone I had just met on the road, who was also looking for the lost fire, she soon traipsed off the subject as she busied herself around and generally acted like a mother hen, looking after Iolaus and Cyrus. They didn't seem to mind, just accepted gratefully whatever she did for them and it wasn't too long before Marcus and I were forgotten about.
The first thing she did was light a fire, and I watched as the flames danced in her eyes and lit her cheeks with a healthy, ruddy glow. She was so beautiful, and it hurt that I had to keep that to myself for now, mindful of Iolaus' loss. Even so, I found myself daydreaming about how it would be when we were married; I hadn't known her all that long, but I could tell already who would be the boss of the household. Strange that I was looking forward to that ...
Eventually, things got a little quieter, and it was just Deianeira talking. Iolaus was looking tired and older than I had ever seen him. I knew there was nothing I could do to help him, except give him time to grieve and finally accept, as I knew he would; he was better at that than ever I would be.
"Iolaus ..."
He looked up at me, as if through a fog, and the pain in his eyes was the sort that you could only breath with. Just to do that, was to survive. He was okay at that too, although the loss of Ania would take a long time to recover from.
Chapter Three
A few weeks later, when I dropped in on Iolaus for what had become something of a regular visit - although he had started to make 'you-don't-have-to-babysit-me', faces, in my direction now - I finally told him the truth about myself and Deianeira. He was okay about it, which was just as well, because I needed him to be my best man.
And I thought that was that.
Life went on; different for both of us. I had a wife and a growing family and Iolaus had a forge, a small farm and a growing son to look after. We had an adventure or two along the way.
And then Hera destroyed my family.
That was a blow that changed my life for ever. I didn't find out until later just how it had affected Iolaus' life too.
We were working in his forge; not weapons as it happened, but horseshoes for a neighbour of his. We had been at it for a half hour or more, when I realised that I hadn't seen his son around the place since I arrived; but when I asked him about it, he acted like he didn't want to talk about him.
"Iolaus? What is it, is Cyrus alright?"
"Yeah, Hercules, he's fine. I, er ... I made sure of that."
There was a tone in his voice that sounded an alarm in my mind and I made him look at me, to be sure he was telling me the truth. "Really? He's okay?"
Pulling away from me, he sort of reassured me with a, 'Yeah, yeah,' and walked away to get us another drink.
"Iolaus ... There is something wrong; what is it?"
Handing over the refilled mug, he sat down, chewing on his lip, obviously debating whether to tell me whatever it was. Finally conceding defeat, he looked back up at me and told me.
Some big part of me wished he hadn't.
He had left his son with a woman friend, in a village on the other side of the peninsula, who had recently lost her own son, and told her that she should raise him as her own. He had told her that since Ania's death he hadn't been able to look after him the way a boy his age should be.
"That's not the reason, is it?" I knew what it was. Even if I hadn't been able to work it out, it was right there in his eyes. "You're afraid that Hera will get to you the same way she did me, isn't that it?"
Again his eyes gave me confirmation. "Hercules, I ... I had to. He has a right to live his own life, grow up without fear. It had to be done."
"Maybe ... if you ... weren't my friend ..."
"Hercules, don't even think about it! Don't you see, that's just exactly what Hera wants! If I walk away now, then she's won, and I don't want that anymore than you do!!" he told me. "I lost Ania because of her and you lost your whole family; so far she hasn't managed to touch my son, and she's not going to. If the only way I can protect him and keep her from the victory she wants is by never seeing him again, then so be it. You know what they say; 'No good deed goes unpunished'," he reminded me. "In which case you're not the only one who's liable to pay. What am I gonna do, turn into a road robber? C'mon ..."
"No," I had to agree with him. "I can't see you doing that somehow," I commented, and he laughed, a little more his old self now. "So ... It looks like we're both footloose and fancy free again, just like we were when we were ..."
"Young and foolish?" he supplied, a look on his face telling me that he was thinking along the same lines as myself.
I nodded. I guess if you have no choice but to pay for good deeds, you might as well run up the bill, and knowing what a team we could make when given the right cause, that bill was liable to be quite hefty before we were finally finished.
So; last word or not, Hera ... we're still here, and we're still going to fight you and Ares and all the others who meddle in our lives and the lives of other innocents. Don't go counting on getting any peace; remember, there's no peace for the wicked.
THE END
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