Hercules: The Legendary Journeys

Acubus

The Second Adventure In The Empath Chronicles

By Donna Eisner

Copyright August, 1997 By Donna Eisner. Please Do Not Alter Without Author's Permission.

For my son Douglas, with love.

Disclaimer: Hercules, Iolaus, Alcmene, Jason, Iphicles, and Salmoneus are the property of Renaissance Pictures, MCA Universal, and Greek Mythology. All other characters are my creation. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was written solely for the entertainment of the author and her readers.

This story contains mild violence and sexual situations, but no more than you may encounter while viewing the average episode of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys.

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Hercules sat at a table in the tavern. He had worked hard this day and he relaxed tired muscles slowly. Iolaus and Sira were back for a visit. He had been with them in their forest home for a few weeks. They had returned with him to visit his mother and Jason. They also looked forward to seeing Ezekial and Winnie.

Little Hercus, just past one, was very advanced for his age. His mother explained that yosemin babies mature very fast for the first few years of their life. Then their cycle slowed markedly, almost seeming to stall. They continued to grow and mature at a much slower rate. But a yosemin's life span was approximately three hundred years. Hercus, at one year of age, seemed in intelligence to be closer to three years old. He was large for a one year old and much more coordinated than a human child could ever be at this age.

But Hercus was remarkably advanced even by yosemin standards. The old ones of Sira's village had said the same of her when she had been his age. She had been secretly disappointed that her half human son hadn't stayed in babyhood longer. She had hoped the thinning of the yosemin blood would have made it so, but it wasn't to be.

The child had the fair hair of his parents, already showing curls like his father's. His eyes were as blue as his father's as well. His small feet were spotted like those of his yosemin mother.

"You! Hercules. Turn around. I want you to see the man who is going to kill you." The shout had come from the door of the tavern.

Hercules sighed. He didn't rise, but turned around on the stool he occupied.

"Do I know you, stranger?" the half man, half god asked.

"Not yet, but you will. I aim to kill you."

The stranger was a burly fellow. He held a large club in his right hand.

"So you've said. Do I get to know why?" asked Hercules.

"Why? Because you refused to help my village," he sniffed. "All the tales of your good deeds. They're all lies, aren't they?" He didn't wait for an answer. "So it's up to me to save Acubus. I go now to gather an army. The man who kills Hercules will have plenty of followers."

"Look, I'm not just going to sit here and let you kill me," stated the demigod. "Besides, you're disturbing my dinner." And smiling at the stranger, "Join me. We can discuss this." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I don't remember turning down any plea to save any village."

The half god was perplexed. He hoped to calm the stranger before any real trouble started, but it wasn't to be so easy.

The stranger made a rush, the club raised to bludgeon the demigod. Hercules easily avoided the club with a well timed kick to the man's middle. The kick didn't seem to faze the stranger and he was back for more. The man flew over the half man, half god's shoulder to land with a grunt on the table where Hercules' dinner waited. Dinner and table crashed to the floor. The stranger rushed for a third time. This time, he ran into a rock wall in the form of a fist.

Hercules shook his hand. He was unhurt, but his knuckles did sting.

"Shall I remove this rubble?" the tavern keeper asked, stabbing a finger at the stranger where he lay on the floor.

"No, Conlan. Leave him. Sorry about the table," Hercules apologized.

"What's a table among friends, eh?" Conlan laughed. "It's not the first you've broken for me. Come. I'll get you more mutton. Yours is cold."

They both laughed.

He had only taken a couple of bites when the stranger stirred. Hercules had seated himself so that he could keep an eye on the antagonist.

With a hand to his chin, the stranger sat up.

"Are you ready for more, or do we talk?" questioned the demigod.

A moan was the only response.

"Conlan, could you please bring a mug of ale for my friend and another tea for myself? And another mutton," he added as an afterthought.

"Come, Stranger. Join me," he offered.

Hercules hoped he would. He had no desire to best this man.

The stranger got gingerly to his feet. He stood there swaying for a moment. Then he staggered to the stool across from the demigod and sat. He raised the offered ale to his lips but had trouble getting his mouth open enough to drink.

"Tell me," instructed Hercules, "when did I refuse to help your village, and to whom did I make this refusal?"

"Vector, from my village of Acubus, came to you almost three weeks ago. He asked for your help, but you refused.

The stranger rubbed his jaw and spoke through clinched teeth. Not in anger, but in defense of the pain moving his jaw brought.

"Three weeks ago, I was deep in the forest many miles from here. No one came to me with a request for help. No one," Hercules repeated.

"Vector said he found you here in this village and asked you for help." The stranger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You wouldn't help and would give no good reason why you refused."

Hercules shook his head. "It never happened, stranger. This friend of yours may have spoken to someone else but he didn't come to me."

"No," the stranger said under his breath. "No, he didn't speak to anyone. He lied, the bloody swine."

The stranger started to rise, his anger livid on his face. "I'll kill the cowardly bastard."

Hercules placed a restraining hand on the man's arm. "Why don't you tell me why your village needs help," he encouraged.

The man sat back down. "You'll help us then?" he asked.

"I don't know yet. We'll see." He smiled at the man. "What's your name?"

"Barnabus."

"All right, Barnabus. Let's have it then," the half god encouraged.

Barnabus gathered his thoughts a moment. "Have you heard of the warlord Demos?"

"I've heard of him, yes."

"He's been coming to our village for almost nine months. At first he and his men only drank ale and ate our food without payment. But then they started to steal our property." Barnabus took a sip of his ale. "We live near the sea, and we trade with ships that anchor in our harbor. We make crafts. I work with metal. I trade my knives, swords and farm tools. Our women weave cloth from wool from our sheep. There are basket weavers and a toy maker as well. One family is known for their magnificent leather works. While we farm, we mostly live by our trading." He stopped to catch his breath. "Demos and his men steal our goods, they bully us and destroy our property. They kill our livestock. The second time they came, we tried to fight them and two of our best men were killed. We're not fighting men. We're a village of boys and old men, women and children. We have no defense against these murderers."

Hercules called for another tea for himself and more ale for Barnabus. The man from Acubus sat back, bracing his back against the wall behind him.

"After we tried to fight them, they took our goods anyway just like always. They were even more cruel and destructive. They left finally. But that night, one of our women disappeared. We searched the next day when her disappearance was discovered. But we found nothing. Some said she had willingly gone with Demos. Some chose to believe it was unrelated. I knew they had taken her. I just knew it. We've heard nothing of her since.

"We've tried hiding our goods but they always find them. They have an uncanny knack for finding the stuff. Anyone who resisted were beaten. Many of our young men took their families and left. It was easier than fighting these men."

"How often do they come?" Hercules asked.

"About every three to four weeks. They come with carts already loaded with goods. I suppose they must raid other villages as well as ours."

The demigod studied the other man's face a moment. "There's more, isn't there?"

Barnabus took a deep breath. "The time before last, after we thought they were long gone, another one of our women turned up missing. But this time she got away." He wiped his hand across his eyes as if to remove the image he was seeing there. "What those bastards did to her. It was horrible. It was..." He left his thought incomplete. "She told us that two of Demos' men had snuck back after dark and grabbed her as she went for water. They took her to a camp down the coast." He took a drink of ale. "She's a good woman, a widow with her ill grandmother to tend. She had done nothing to these men. She and her grandmother make wonderful blankets to trade. She had willingly given them up to avoid trouble. We had sent Vector to find you and he had returned alone. More of our young men took their families and moved away. Something had to be done." He shook his head. "Vector was sent to get help from you. Why didn't he?"

"Hercules?" Iolaus called from the door of the tavern.

The demigod motioned the hunter to join them. He introduced the two men to each other, then briefly outlined what Barnabus had told him of the events in Acubus.

"So," Iolaus said with a grin, "when do we leave?"

"I guess tomorrow," was the big man's reply.

Barnabus looked from one to the other. "You'll help us?" he asked incredulous. "Even after I tried to... I mean, I threatened you?"

Hercules laughed. "Yes, my friend. We'll help you, and your village."

"What's this about threats?" Iolaus asked.

Hercules laughed again. "I'll tell you on the way home."

He turned to Barnabus. "Meet us here at dawn tomorrow. You have a place to stay?"

The man from Acubus assured them he would be fine and that he would see them at the appointed time. The truth was, he had no place to stay. And the mutton he had shared with the half god was his first meal in almost two days. He had no money for food or lodging, but he wasn't going to tell these men this. He had left Acubus in a rage. He cared a great deal for Calla, the girl Demos' men had hurt. His life was being torn to shreds, as were the lives of all the people in Acubus. He was determined to help them somehow. The plan to eliminate Hercules to help raise an army had come to him after he had tried unsuccessfully to glean help from other villages.

Hercules gave Iolaus more details of his first encounter with Barnabus and of the attacks on Acubus.

"Why would the other fellow say you had refused to help?" the hunter asked.

"There's no way to know for sure until we ask him. There could be a lot of explanations, I guess." He smiled in the dark. "You had better think of a way to explain to Sira what your plans are for the next few days."

Silence.

"Iolaus?" Hercules questioned.

"I guess I should have spoken to her before I committed. Damn! I got carried away. It was like old times."

"You don't have to come with me, Iolaus," Hercules soothed his friend.

"But I want to," the hunter stated.

"Well, whatever you do, don't tell Sira you forgot her in the excitement."

"You can joke all you want. But you're right, I'll need to handle this carefully."

When the demigod and the hunter returned to Jason and Alcmene's, Sira was putting Hercus to bed. Iolaus joined them for the nightly ritual of hugs, kisses, and stories.

"But Mother," the boy pleaded. "Uncle Hercules is home now, and I want to say goodnight to him."

Mother and father looked at each other.

"This is just a game to keep from going to sleep," his mother stated.

"Pwease?" the boy whined.

Iolaus smiled. "I'll get Hercules or we'll never get him down."

Sira smiled at him and shook her head in exasperation.

When the hugs and kisses and tickles were done, Sira told her son a story from her childhood. Iolaus sat next to her. He enjoyed sharing this time with his family. Hercules stood in the doorway to the room for a few minutes. He always found this a bittersweet moment. It brought back memories both good and bad. Sometimes he wondered why he let himself be a party to it. It almost seemed a masochistic thing to do. But he really cared for the boy, and his feelings for the hunter and the healer were all mixed up in it as well. He knew he could never willingly pass up the chance to be a part of this. A sad smile crossed his face and he quietly let himself out the door. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and sought out Jason. A lively game of chess might dispel his gloomy mood.

When Sira was sure that her son was asleep she reached for her husband's hand. Quietly they crept from the room, and still holding his hand, she led him to their room. Shutting the door behind her, she stood facing him.

"You will be careful, Iolaus?" she asked.

"You know then?" he whispered.

"Of course, my love."

"I won't be long and I will be careful," he assured her.

The telepath could feel the excitement in his voice as well as hear it. She nodded.

"Look, I need to discuss a couple of things with Hercules. Then I'll be right back."

He touched her face with a tender hand then left.

Sira was concerned for her husband but she knew he needed to do this. She squared her shoulders. She resolved to make this as easy for him as she could. She didn't want to put restrictions and burdens on him.

She bathed then rubbed jasmine petals on her skin. She knew her lover liked her to smell of the pungent flower. She combed her hair until it shown with a healthy shimmer. Donning the sleeping gown she knew was his favorite, she slipped into bed.

When Iolaus entered the room he thought that she was asleep. He quietly bathed in the basin and came to bed, still slightly damp.

The healer rolled over and curled herself around him.

"You're awake?" he questioned.

"Yes, my love."

"I feel your worry," he commented. "I don't have to go, Sira. If you ask me not to, I won't."

"I know, my love. Thank you for that. But I would not ask that of you. I only ask that you are careful, and come home to us soon."

The hunter brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "Alcmene wants you to stay here with her and Jason. Will you do this?"

"Yes. You do not need to worry about us. We will be here when you get back."

He kissed the palm of her hand. "I'll miss you, my love."

Sira kissed his ear above the gold hoop he always wore, then kissed his neck.

He drew in his breath. Her touch always set him on fire.

Her mouth found his and her tongue parted his lips, demanding and urgent. Their kiss was long and deep.

"Can we try to make another baby tonight, Iolaus?" She asked shyly.

"I planned on it," he teased.

"I am sorry I have been unable to give you another child."

He could feel her disappointment. He knew she had hoped to conceive again right away.

"If we never have another child, I'll be most content with things as they are. As long as I have you and Hercus, how could I be otherwise? Besides, look how much fun we have trying."

She bit his neck.

"Ouch! You Bacchae," he chided as he rolled over to hover above her. "You'll pay for that."

"You promise much, but you collect little," she teased.

It was very late before they slept.

Sira insisted on waking Hercus in the morning.

"If you do not say goodbye to him, he will be very hurt," she reasoned.

She had already said her farewell to him in their bed before they rose to dress. She hated good-byes anyway. Her mind's touch of those she loved made it harder for her in many ways.

When Iolaus left with a farewell wave, she took little Hercus into her bed with her. He fell back to sleep almost at once. Tears shown in the healer's eyes. This was the first time she had been apart from her lover for any length of time in almost three years. She sent her love to him and felt his response.

The hunter had grown stronger in mind over these three years. Often words were not needed between them. She had always been able to read his thoughts, and now he could most often read hers. Sira now spoke Greek with much more ease. She seldom had to search for words now. She still spoke with a slight accent but it wasn't as pronounced.

Little Hercus was just beginning to use his mind. The first time she felt him call with his mind, he had stepped wrong and hurt his ankle. He had been walking since he was six months old and talking in sentences since he was eight months old. He had always seemed to prefer voice to trying to use his mind. Sira had turned her back on him to gather some roots. She heard his cry, but felt it as well. In fact, the blast of mind the boy had thrown out was very strong. She had rushed to him and soothed him. She had sent healing to his ankle. It wasn't hurt badly, and after only a few minutes the boy was up and exploring the world around him. He quickly forgot the whole thing. But his mother hadn't. It had filled her heart with joy. She now felt other emotions from him. She had always felt them, but now he was sending them to her. She was thrilled and delighted at first, then she was afraid that perhaps Iolaus would not be happy.

She had spoken to the hunter as soon as she could. She wanted him to know, and hopefully come to terms with it in time. She needn't have worried.

"I know, Sira," the hunter assured her. "I've felt his mind touch mine. I'm glad. I want him to be a sensitive. Maybe when he's older he can spend some time with Thysis and learn more."

Thysis was an old yosemin, an elder of the clan. He was very strong of mind. And Sira's chosen father. He had helped Sira, Iolaus, and Hercules defeat the sorceress who had killed Sira's people and then pursued the healer. He had taken her clanship as his own, and as a follower of the clan of the wolf and the lion he would be the one best suited to teach Hercus.

"Then you are all right with this part of our son?"

"Of course. I think it's wonderful. The more Hercus is like his mother, the better," he had assured her. "Sira, I love you, and I love what you can do. The things that are yosemin are wonderful and special. I encourage you to raise our son in the yosemin way. He'll have plenty of opportunities for human contact. But not for yosemin. So we must see that he's exposed to this."

The hunter had received several kisses for his declaration. Sira was moved and touched by her husband's acceptance of her and her heritage.

This had been some time ago and Hercus was learning more all the time.

Sira rolled over carefully so that she wouldn't wake her son. She studied his face. He looked so much like his father. Already his pug nose was beginning to resemble that of his father's. The empath smiled to herself. He was as stubborn as his father also.

A sigh escaped her. She wanted another baby. Hercus had been a baby for such a short time. She knew it was not unusual for yosemin women to be infertile for several years after giving birth. In fact some only had one child. This was another reason the yosemin race was dwindling. It had gotten worse in the last two or three hundred years. Sira had hoped that the human factor would change this in her case, but it seemed not to be so. Despite the blending of the human and yosemin soul, her body was true yosemin. Still, she had Hercus and she knew her life would be full. After all, the boy was only a year old. There was time. Besides, Iolaus was right. It was fun trying to make babies. Sira sighed again. She missed her lover already.

The yosemin prayed to her mother earth. She prayed for her husband's safe return. She prayed for fertility and she prayed for Hercus and herself. Then she prayed for Hercules. She knew the men were going into danger. She also knew they loved it. The hunter, because he loved to help people, but also he loved the excitement of being with Hercules and pitting his cunning and skill against adversaries. And the half god? This was more complicated. It was tied up with his feeling about the gods he was related to. The pain he endured at the losses in his life. The adventure was a tonic to his torn and bleeding soul, and he hoped to make up to the world the injustice of the gods. He honored his family and his human half by using what powers he possessed for the greater good.

Sira was smart enough to realize this wouldn't be the only time. She knew that before she had found the hunter lying injured in the forest and stolen his heart. He and the demigod had lived from day to day, taking what life brought them, and loving the uncertainty of it. The empath was a little surprised it had taken this long for her husband to join his friend in something like this. It was a tribute to her, and his love for her and their son that it had. Now that she was more comfortable with others and Hercus was less dependent on them both, the hunter had grown restless. He hunted a great deal. It helped, yet it wasn't enough. She often caught him searching the hills, a wistful look on his face. She could well understand the feeling, for it was mirrored in herself. But her son and home, her husband and her beloved forest filled her with a quiet joy, and she could put aside her urge for adventure. She hadn't even known it was a part of her. In her village she had never strayed far from home and her people. Her life had been spent learning the ways of the healer. Her apprenticeship was a lifelong commitment.

She had always found something missing in her life but hadn't known what it was. Finding Iolaus, she had been sure the missing piece was found. But now she knew that it was the adventurer in her that needed fulfillment. There were legends of the yosemin people being nomads and warriors, blazing trails in the forest. Somehow she seemed to be a throwback to these ancient ancestors. Having once experienced the thrill of the fight, she wasn't sure how long she could put it aside. And she wasn't sure she wanted to put it aside. The three of them, along with Thysis, had battled the sorceress and won. The exhilaration this had given her was a remembered thing. Yes, she could understand her lover's need to satisfy the longing in his heart. And Sira had no intention of denying the man she loved beyond all others the chance to satisfy this need.

Hercules and Iolaus met Barnabus at the tavern just as the sun was rising. They had come prepared for travel, but Barnabus seemed to have nothing besides his club and water flask. With an insight born of his compassion for his fellow man, Hercules understood. And saying nothing that would embarrass the man from Acubus, he purchased another blanket and more food.

The half man, half god set a brisk pace and they were soon well away from the village.

"How long ago was Demos in your village?" he asked of Barnabus.

"It's been almost four weeks now. But most likely they've been there in my absence."

Iolaus could hear the worry in the blacksmith's voice. "How many in your village can we count on for help?" he asked.

Barnabus thought for a moment. "Counting myself? Maybe half a dozen. None of us are fighters."

Hercules nodded. "If Demos has just been to your village, it gives us some time to teach you and the others a few things.

"I wonder where Demos sells the stolen goods?" Iolaus wondered.

"Calla, the woman Demos' men kidnapped, said they talked of meeting a ship down the coast," Barnabus offered.

"So they gather up tradable goods for a few weeks then meet a ship and sell them. Not a bad racket," Iolaus commented. "In fact, it takes more intelligence than I would give Demos credit for."

The men walked on in silence, Barnabus' thoughts on his village. He hoped he wasn't too late. He had no wife or children there but he had friends. His home and business were there. He worked with metal. He was strong of muscle from the hammer. His shoulders were broad. That's why he carried a club. But his only real encounter with fighting had been to try and hurt Hercules. He now realized it took more than brawn to be a fighter. He hoped there would be several weeks for him to learn from these men. The blacksmith had been one of those that had tried to stop Demos' men. He had been knocked out almost at once. He remembered the man who had landed that blow. Maybe it wouldn't be so easy next time.

The demigod's thoughts were on Vector. Why had he volunteered to seek help from the son of Zeus, then not done so? Was he secretly helping Demos? If so, why? Money was a powerful motive. The big man realized there were other explanations. This Vector would have to be watched. If he was working with the warlord, he might be able to get word to him somehow. Hercules hoped to have some time to train a few of the villagers to help fight the warlord and his men. He also hoped to use the element of surprise. Barnabus had said Demos had about twenty men with him. Well, he and Iolaus had dealt with larger numbers. The demigod was glad Iolaus had come with him. He had missed his companion. Salmoneus had accompanied him several times, and while he was quite inventive in a pinch, he wasn't Iolaus. The hunter was a cunning and intelligent fighter, better in the woods and on a trail than he. Besides this, they had worked out many moves together that just couldn't be performed alone.

Iolaus' thoughts were behind him. In his mind he saw the quiet face of a woman. She smiled as she watched her son play with the wooden horses and men his Uncle Hercules had given him. The hunter marveled again that these were his. The woman and child. He had felt loneliness before she came into his life, but no longer. He had sometimes hungered for a home. Now he had one. He loved the little things that Sira did. Bringing him cool cider when he was hot from work. Always making time for him. Listening to and working with him. She was always thoughtful. She fed him well, and kept their house, herself, and little Hercus clean. And keeping Hercus clean was a full time job. The little scamp.

Iolaus laughed to himself. The boy loved the earth as much as his mother, and he seemed to love to wear it. Sira made him clothing from woven moss. It was soft and durable. But Hercus preferred to wear only short breaches. He already wandered the forest, seeming to talk to the animals and plants. Several times, forest creatures had eaten out of Hercus' hand. Sira kept a close eye on him and had set certain boundaries. It was far enough away from his mother to make it seem an adventure, yet close enough that he could hear should she call, and she could hear, should he call. Now of course they could call each other with mind. Still, Sira kept the boundaries close, and Hercus abided by them.

Iolaus often took the boy hunting with him, and they all three went into the forest often. Sira had taught the hunter even more about living off the land than he knew already. He still marveled even now at how the yosemin people had adapted to their life in virtual exile.

He sighed and sent his mind out to the healer. Her response was instantaneous and strong. He missed her already, but he admitted to himself it was good to be on the trail with Hercules again. He sent his feeling of gratitude to Sira that she had encouraged him in this.

Sira felt his gratitude and was glad for it. She had done the right thing in not discouraging him. But it wasn't going to be easy staying behind. She vowed to keep busy. The busier the better. Then perhaps she wouldn't have time to think.

Hercus seemed determined to help her. He pulled over a pot of corn starch his mother had on her dresser. She used the finely ground powder to smooth her skin. Then he upset a potted plant on Alcmene's porch. He cried because he hurt the plant. Sira helped him repot it and gave the earth's prayer to the plant so that it could heal.

Later in the day, the women took Hercus to see Winnie. Winnie had known Alcmene and Hercules since she was a baby. Alcmene had helped the girl's widowed father look after Winnie. The girl worshipped Hercules. Sira had met the little girl when she first came to Alcmene's after healing Iolaus. Shortly after, Winnie had been severely burned and Sira had healed her. There was almost no physical evidence of the burns left, thanks to the empath. But the injuries and healing had made the child quieter and more thoughtful. She loved the earth and all living things with a passion. She had a way with plants and people. She called herself a healer of plants. And she was.

Hercus and Winnie were fast friends. The girl was almost ten, and most of the time she was a quiet poised child. She looked and acted older than her years. But she played like a little child with Hercus. They all worked in the garden at the farm. They collected ladybugs, they watered plants, and the children picked flowers for the women.

Winnie's father Ezekial had done wonderful things with the farm Iolaus and Sira had given him. He swore he couldn't have done it without Winnie.

"She can make anything grow," he had said.

That evening, the men made camp under an overhang of rock. There was fresh water and a ready supply of wood. The weather was mild, but toward morning they would welcome the warmth the burning wood would lend them.

Iolaus set about making the fire and starting their meal. He had taken two rabbits earlier, both with bow and arrow. Barnabus was impressed.

"If I could shoot a longbow like that, I could fight the men that plague my village single-handed."

"Come, Barnabus," Hercules motioned to the blacksmith. "I'll show you a few moves for close up fighting with a club. With your strength, you could be formidable if you can land that thing on someone."

Barnabus blushed. He was still feeling the sting of his failure to land a single blow on the son of Zeus.

Iolaus watched them for a few moments. Despite the blacksmith's bulk he moved quickly and deftly. He also seemed to catch on quickly. The hunter hoped some of the other villagers would do as well.

It was a pity that hard working farmers and tradesmen needed to learn these skills. But it seemed that man was often plagued by bullies or tyrants. These unscrupulous few always preyed on the weak. A man needed to know how to defend himself, his home and his family. It wasn't just a matter of pride, although that was an important part of it. It was more a matter of survival.

As the men ate, Hercules asked Iolaus to fill him in on all he knew of Demos. While Hercules had heard of the warlord, Iolaus seemed to know him better.

"He's mean and cruel, in a sadistic way. He has no loyalty to anyone but himself. This kind of activity you describe him doing is really out of his line. He and his men are usually for hire to the highest bidder. They take what they want and don't care who they hurt to get it. Xena has had a couple of run-ins with Demos. The slippery pig always seems to get away. He keeps followers by threats and fear. He doesn't impress me with much intelligence. But he's a fighter. He knows weapons and he uses them to advantage."

"Barnabus, do they always approach Acubus from the same direction?" the demigod asked.

"No. Never the same direction twice, and never on any set timetable. Sometimes they're only in the village for a short time, and other times they stay for hours. We tried not making our wares. But they retaliated with violence so we keep making the stuff. They leave us enough so that we can keep making more trade goods."

Iolaus shook his head. "I just can't believe Demos would be smart enough to carry this off."

"Maybe he has help," offered Hercules.

"You're thinking of Vector?" Iolaus asked.

But before the half god could answer, Barnabus interrupted. "Vector would never be able to think this up. He's a big dumb clod. He is a farmer. He's tried to learn a trade but can't stick to it. He does all right working the land, but there's not much upstairs. No, he's not behind this. He's just a cowardly lazy son of a female dog." Barnabus' dislike of Vector was great.

So if not Vector, who? Hercules wondered.

Sira lay in her bed at Alcmene's. Hercus slept in his little bed across the room. He had cried because he missed his father and his Uncle Hercules. The healer knew her son could sense her unease.

Jason had offered to move the little one's bed to his mother's room if it would make him feel better. Hercus had stopped crying immediately.

"I can sleep in Mommy's room and protect her," he stated very gravely.

Sira had agreed. She didn't want to be alone either.

Jason was always thoughtful of her and Hercus. He called the boy " his little man."

Sira couldn't sleep. It was late and Hercus had long since surrendered to his body's need for rest. He must have asked twenty times when his father would return. The yosemin felt drained, her body and mind dull with the strain she had felt all day. But she couldn't sleep. Try as she might, it eluded her.

She sent her mind out. She could sense both Hercules and her husband. She could feel the hunter's longing for her, and that he missed her. But she also felt his excitement. He was doing something he liked and wanted to do. He was good at this sort of thing. A person needed to pursue things that they understood. Something that they could excel at and take pride in.

Sira sent her thoughts to the hunter. She wanted him to know she didn't resent him for following this path. He sent his love to her. His thoughts were like a caress. She felt the comfort of their bond, and her heart swelled with love and pride in this human with whom she was so closely linked. In their time together, their souls' touch had strengthened and grown. Their friendship was familiar and comforting, their minds linked so completely that they were never completely without the other.

Sira had hoped that touching her lover's mind might help her to relax. But now there was the physical desire along with the loneliness to keep her from finding sleep.

The hunter wasn't finding it easy to sleep either.

Sunrise found the men on the road. With a good day of travel they should be able to reach Barnabus' village by the following day. The sooner they reached it, the more time they should have to prepare the villagers to help stop the warlord that besieged and subjugated them.

There was still a chance that Demos had not raided the village in the blacksmith's absence. If that were the case, there could be only a matter of days before he did. That could be a problem. But Hercules, wise in the ways of war and battle, knew that no matter how carefully one might plan, no matter how much you prepared, there was always a chance for things to go awry. There was no way they could anticipate what Demos might do, or plan. There were just too many things that could go wrong. The best they could do was try and arrange things to their advantage, then deal with whatever might come. That was where Iolaus was good. He could go with the moment and adapt to the situation. The hunter and the demigod had been together in so many tricky situations that they trusted each other. They had worked out many moves together, and they seemed to know what the other was thinking.

The sun was at its zenith when they stopped for a rest and to refresh themselves. It had grown warm and Iolaus wiped the perspiration from his brow. His shoulders ached from the pack. He let it down slowly, stretching tired muscles.

The men rested for a time, munching on nuts and berries that Sira had sent along.

"They will give you strength and they are light to carry," she had insisted.

The travelers washed the food down with cold clear water from a small stream.

"How long have you lived in Acubus?" Hercules asked of the blacksmith.

"I was born there," he replied around a mouthful of berries. He swallowed. "My father worked with metal also. It's a good life. I enjoy taking a rough hunk of metal and making something useful out of it."

"So you know everyone in your village well?"

Barnabus nodded. "Yes. It's a small village."

"Anyone new to Acubus?"

"No, Hercules. No one new. There's no one that has been there less than ten years. Well, except the babies. But you know what I mean."

The demigod nodded.

"You're thinking maybe someone in the village is behind this scam?" Iolaus asked of his friend.

"It would do to think about," the son of Zeus suggested. "Maybe Demos finds the hidden goods so easily because he already knows were they're hidden."

"If that's the case, we could be walking into a lot of trouble," the hunter offered.

The half god chuckled. "You don't think taking on some twenty odd fighting men is trouble?"

"No. Not at all. I'd say that makes the odds about right."

"I, for one, plan to have a talk with dear old Vector when we arrive." Hercules smiled at the others. "I just can't get past the idea that he may have something to hide."

"Not before I get my hands on him," Barnabus interjected.

"I need to be able to talk to him first, Barnabus. Then you can have him."

"I tell you he's not smart enough to engineer this," the blacksmith objected.

"Still, give me a chance with him. He may know something. It surely can't hurt to find out if he avoided contacting me because he has a stake in Demos' enterprise."

When the men made camp that night, Hercules and Barnabus worked on the blacksmith's training. This time Iolaus joined them to demonstrate certain maneuvers.

"Remember, Barnabus," Iolaus told him, "The only thing you can be sure of in a fight, is that you can't be sure of anything. Don't take anything for granted. Always go into the battle with the realization that your opponent may be better at this than you are. So many things can go wrong. A missed step, or a pebble turns under your foot. The trick is to turn a disadvantage into an advantage."

Iolaus hadn't hunted today so the men broke their fast with the supplies they had brought with them. There was Tassis tea to wash down the dried meat. They ate the last of the nuts and berries and were satisfied, if not filled.

Sira had spent the day with Alcmene. They had worked hard. They were remodeling an extra bedroom into a study for Jason. They had first stripped the room bare. Then they proceeded to hang wall curtains of pale green and white. There were matching curtains at the windows. Sira had made reed mats for the floor, and a hand on the farm had helped to move the Argonaut's desk into the room.

Jason had left that morning to travel to Corinth. Alcmene hated it whenever he was called away. But she wasn't alone this time and she was glad. She enjoyed having Sira and Hercus with her.

The study was to be a surprise for the former king. He often worked on projects for King Iphicles. He also kept the accounts of the farm. He needed a place to work and a place to rest. He was a man of deep thought and strong emotion. He needed a place to unwind, and Alcmene's love for him made it easy for her to feel his need.

Sira told her that she was a sensitive, at least as far as those she cared about.

The older woman laughed. "I wouldn't go that far. But I do love him and I want him to be happy.

The women talked and laughed. Winnie was watching Hercus and the house was quiet. The work and company helped the healer to feel less lonely.

She had brought some potted plants inside and put them on a small table under the window. The pots were of clay, with white designs painted on them. The empath had made the pots herself when she had lived on the farm close to Alcmene. The older woman had always liked the pots. So when Sira and Iolaus moved to the forest and gave the farm to Winnie's father, the healer had given the pots to her friend.

Alcmene was having shelves added to the alcove that had been the closet. A matching curtain would hang here also. There was a white wicker sofa against one wall, with soft comfortable cushions and pillows in bright colors of green and yellow. A small table next to the sofa hosted a pewter chess set arranged as if in play.

It was a bright and sunny retreat for the former king. The girls placed crossed swords on the wall behind the desk, and despite the curtains the room was masculine.

The morning was chilly but not really cold. The travelers broke their fast on rabbits the hunter's snares had supplied.

Barnabus squatted by the fire, nursing a mug of Tassis tea.

"Tell me about your village," Iolaus suggested.

"Not much to tell, really. It's small. It does have a nice harbor and pier. We trade with ships that anchor there."

"So when a ship is at anchor there are bound to be sailors in town," the hunter suggested.

"They never stay. We're too small to offer them much. They bring us needed supplies and we trade our goods to them. They take on fresh water and food. Most often it's the same ships we have seen before." The blacksmith took the pot of tea from the fire and refilled his mug. He motioned with the pot at the hunter's cup, and at the other man's nod filled his mug as well. He squatted on his heels again. "You're thinking about strangers in town that might be helping Demos?"

Iolaus nodded

"I suppose it could be possible. But they're there for such a short time, and they would have no way of knowing where we hide the goods." He was lost in thought a moment. "I really don't see that being the case. But..." He shrugged rather than finishing the thought. "We do get an occasional miner in town also. But like the sailors, there's little to hold them in the village. Before, when the diamond mines were hot, the miners shipped some of the diamonds out of our harbor. The mines are pretty much played out now. We seldom see the miners anymore.

"Acubus started as a farming community. But there was the good harbor, and ships stopped there for fresh water. Then a group of enterprising miners built the pier. This really changed the community. My great grandfather was a farmer. He knew something of working with metal, however. Smithing was my grandfather's passion." The smithy stood and stretched. "I hope they've been all right while I've been gone. Not that I'm any protection. I just hate not knowing what's been going on."

The hunter could hear the worry and concern in the man's voice.

Hercules returned from the river where he had bathed and Iolaus served their meal.

The three travelers arrived at the coastal village the next afternoon. The blacksmith led them straight to Vector's cottage. The man stood at the stove, heating a greasy disgusting concoction that might have been stew.

Barnabus grabbed him, and would have flattened him if Hercules hadn't stopped him.

"We talk first. If I don't like the answers, then you can have him."

The man from Acubus inclined his head. "Meet Hercules, Vector."

Vector, pale already, turned a sick shade of green.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Vector?" Hercules prompted.

A stubborn look came over the farmer's face. "I've nothing to say. You have no right to come here and threaten me."

"You were supposed to contact Hercules and ask for help. Why in Tartarus didn't you?" There was no hiding the anger in the blacksmith's voice.

"It's none of your business. You shouldn't have brought him here."

"Shouldn't have brought him? If you had done what you promised, Calla wouldn't have been hurt. You bloody bastard! How many more have to be hurt or killed?"

Barnabus made another move toward the other man but Hercules again stopped him.

Vector rubbed a hand across his brow. "I never meant for that to happen. I couldn't know they would hurt Calla." His voice was high pitched and whiny.

The blacksmith had had enough. He broke away from the half god and his fist landed square in the farmer's face. There was real power in the arm that delivered the punch and the farmer fell back with a grunt. Blood dripped slowly from a split lip. The farmer sat staring at the small pool of red on the floor. He made no move to rise.

Then in a whisper, "I had to do it. They have Venin." He took a shuttering breath. "They threatened to kill her if I didn't help them." He looked up and tears filled his eyes. "Now he's here." He motioned at the demigod. "Don't you see? They'll kill her."

"Who is Venin?" the hunter asked.

"My daughter," he stated simply.

The demigod and the hunter looked at each other over the farmer's head.

"Your daughter left here over ten years ago," Barnabus objected.

"Yes. She and my wife have been living in Oshton. They took her from there and killed my wife at the same time."

He wiped the blood from his lip. Iolaus handed him a rag, then a drink of water. Still the farmer stayed on the floor.

"Some of Demos' men came here and took me somewhere in the woods. They blindfolded me and dragged me out there." He swung his arm in the general direction of the outdoors. "They took me to her." He shook his head and tears again filled his eyes. "She was so frightened. She begged me to help her. What could I do?" The farmer was sobbing now. "I had to help them. I had no choice."

"You've been feeding them information about the village and the trade goods," Hercules stated rather than asked.

"They'll kill her if I refuse. That's why I volunteered to seek you out. I couldn't let you come here. Now that you're here, they'll surely kill her. She's a good girl. She doesn't deserve that. She's all I have."

"And what about all the others that are being hurt by this swine? What about Calla?" There was a lessening of the anger in the blacksmith's voice.

The farmer shook his head. "I never wanted that. But I had to try and protect my daughter. You can't know what it must be like for her. Being held by that brute. At the mercy of them all. By the gods of Olympus, surely you can understand," the farmer pleaded.

"Was Demos here while Barnabus was gone?" the hunter asked.

"Yes, he was here, " the farmer said, nodding.

Iolaus offered him a hand up. The farmer took the offered hand and once he was on his feet, he sank into a chair as if his legs were too weak to hold him up.

"That gives us some time then," Hercules thought out loud.

"Time? Time for what? You've got to get out of here before Demos hears of this. If he finds you here he'll kill my little girl."

"How long do you plan to let this go on, Vector? They'll kill her sooner or later anyway." Hercules wasn't trying to be cruel. But at his words the farmer turned pale.

"We'll be ready for them when they return. We'll do our best to get your daughter away from them, and put a stop to their raiding at the same time."

"But there's no way of knowing when they'll return. They come for me the night before they raid. And when they do, they'll find you here and kill Venin."

"We'll have to try and make sure that doesn't happen."

Hercules caught the hunter's attention and motioned his head toward the door. Iolaus followed his friend outside.

"Well, what do you make of this, Iolaus?"

The hunter shook his head. "I guess we'll have to rescue the girl first, then stop Demos."

Hercules nodded. "Yes. But Vector has a point. If they see us here they could very well kill the girl."

"Well," reasoned Iolaus, "we should have a few weeks to work with the villagers. Then we can go into hiding. Maybe when they come for Vector we can follow them to their camp and get the girl out. If nothing else, we could get an idea of what we're up against, then form a plan when we have more information."

Hercules grinned. "You love the uncertainty of this, don't you?"

"It does have a certain appeal," the hunter grinned back. "I guess you could say I enjoy the challenge. But no more than yourself."

Hercules patted his friend on the back. "It's good to have you with me again, my friend."

They returned to the farmer's hut and outlined their plan.

"But Demos doesn't always take me to see Venin. Lately, they just bring a note from her." The farmer paced the floor. He wished these men would just go away.

"Then how do you know she isn't already dead?" Barnabus demanded.

Vector went pale again. "I don't know. Not for sure. But I can't take that chance, can I?"

"He's right, Barnabus. We can't take a chance," Hercules agreed. He turned to the distraught man. "You'll have to insist that you're taken to see your daughter."

"But what if they refuse?"

"You'll have to convince them. This may be your daughter's only chance."

Again Vector went pale. Perspiration was beaded on his upper lip. He licked lips that had gone dry but said nothing.

"We'll stay here tonight," Hercules continued. "Tomorrow, we find a well hidden place to group and discuss this with the other villagers. We must do what we can to hide our activities during the day. At night, we'll be here in case Demos comes for Vector."

Hercules didn't say it, but Iolaus also knew that his friend wanted to keep a close eye on Vector. He still didn't trust the farmer. He could have lied about the reasons for helping Demos. He might have said anything to save his skin. Iolaus decided to reserve judgment. He had believed the farmer's declaration, but he still didn't trust the man.

Hercules and Iolaus brought their packs inside and proceeded to make themselves comfortable. Vector was not pleased but he said nothing. The stew the farmer had made was less than appetizing. The hunter left him to it and made a meal for himself and the half god. He took some time to clean the hut. He wasn't exactly fastidious, but the squalor in the place was too much even for him.

Hercules made them a bed on the floor of the main room. He asked Barnabus to send along a couple of men he could trust. He had no intention of letting the farmer out of his sight. There could still be a way the man could get word to the warlord.

The demigod asked question after question of Vector. He hoped to glean information about the warlord and his actions. But the farmer was of little help. All he had cared about was his daughter, and he was not an observant sort, it would appear.

Finally the farmer snapped at the half god. "Leave me alone, can't you? I can't tell you anymore."

"Can't or won't?" Hercules mumbled.

There were seven villagers that agreed to help Hercules and Iolaus fight Demos. They had already started to practice when Calla joined them.

"I want to be shown how to fight," she requested.

"Calla, go home," Barnabus told her. "You can't help here."

"No, Barnabus. I won't." She took a deep breath. "I have even more reason to hate these animals than you. I want to do my part."

"Women can't fight," stated Barnabus in exasperation.

"I know a certain warrior princess that would argue that point," Hercules said with a smile. "You're welcome to join us, Calla."

Hercules' plan was to have the villagers keep the wolves off their backs until they could deal with Demos and his men. He called all the villagers together.

"I expect all of you to help," he told them. "These are your homes. Your people being hurt." He looked at Calla. "Your women being taken."

"But what can we do?" asked Calla's grandmother.

"You've got to think like lions, and not mice. Everything is a weapon. I want you to look around when you leave here. Look around your homes. Your lives depend on you." The demigod looked around those assembled in the secluded clearing. "The kettle of hot water on the stove will scald someone. It won't stop them for long, but it will distract them long enough for you break a chair over their head. Heavy pots are weapons. A burning stick of wood. Any club or pole is a weapon. Farm tools. The paddle from the butter churn. Look around. Use your imagination."

"Rocks can make powerful weapons," Iolaus added. "There are vulnerable places where a kick can do wonders."

There were snickers from the assembled villagers.

"Yes," Iolaus smiled. "I mean there. Also a well placed boot to the instep can take a man out of action for a few seconds. Work as teams. One kicks where it hurts while the other brings a club down on their heads. You have root cellars. Should a man start to enter your cellar to look for your goods, shove him down the steps." He took a breath. "We're not asking you to take unnecessary chances. After you shove him, get out. Kick or hit them, then get the Hades out of there."

"Remember, you're only keeping them off our backs for a short time," Hercules told them. "I don't expect all of you to brandish swords and fight these men. But I do expect you to help if you can."

He dismissed the others, and the ones that were here to learn to fight got back to work.

Barnabus had made real progress, and a young man named Hector was very good with the longbow. The blacksmith provided swords and knives. He had somehow been able to keep them from Demos, and now they would be used to fight the warlord.

Calla had always been good with her hands. Now she found she had a real skill with a sling. She was strong from her labor with the sheep which she sheared herself, her arms muscular from using the loom. Now she put her strength behind the sling.

Giles, the tanner, made several slings for the defenders to use. But the demigod and the hunter mostly instructed them in hand to hand combat. They would most likely be fighting up close, and longbows and slings were useless in that kind of battle. Swords, knives and their hands. That's what they needed to gain a skill in.

Hercules saw to it that Vector was always watched. He insisted the farmer accompany them to the clearing where they trained.

"We can't have him slipping off to warn Demos," he had said. "We can't be sure what he told us was the truth. Better safe than sorry."

Hercules and Iolaus spent some time each day scouting the area. They found two places where large groups of men had camped more than once. While Demos and his men might approach the village from different directions, it appeared they only camped in these two places. They found where the warlord and his men joined the coast road. Calla had overheard the men who had abducted her mention that they took the stolen goods down the coast to sell to an unscrupulous sea captain. It was logical that they would follow this track. They hadn't even tried to hide their activity once they left the village.

"This guy seems quite sure of himself, doesn't he?" Hercules commented.

"Is he sure of himself or just stupid?" Iolaus wondered out loud. "What do you make of this thing with Vector's daughter?"

The demigod shook his head. "I don't know. I can't help but wonder if she's still alive. I mean, why keep her around? If they can so easily manipulate Vector, why bother with the woman?"

"There are other reasons to keep a woman around," Iolaus suggested.

"You're right. We'll just have to play this by ear. There's no use in speculating."

There were quiet times. Iolaus and Hercules spent a great deal of time with Barnabus. When they weren't watching Vector, they slept in Calla's barn. They also spent time getting to know the villagers.

It was during these idle times when Iolaus missed Sira the most. His mind was always on the girl he loved. Their thoughts mingled and touched often. At night, when he was ready for sleep, he would send his mind out to feel for her thoughts. She always responded quickly. He knew she must miss him also to be so in touch with his clumsy attempts to contact her. He desperately missed their physical contact. Not just the intimate contact but the casual contact as well. They touched each other often. They often held hands. They kissed and hugged. She rubbed his tired shoulders after a hard day. They sat next to each other whenever possible. Their legs would touch. He no longer even realized that they were doing it. It was just a part of their relationship. However, now that they were apart, he remembered the closeness and he missed it. It was a constant dull ache in his chest. A shortness of breath when something reminded him of the healer. A moment lost to daydreaming of her.

Iolaus, always the hunter, kept them well supplied with meat. Hercules pitched in to help Calla and Granny around their farm. Barnabus and Hector joined the demigod and the hunter to repair the roof on the widow's barn.

The longer they were in the village, the more nervous Vector became. Everyday he watched the men practicing, and he began to believe they might defeat Demos and his men. But in his heart he was convinced the warlord would kill his daughter and that these men would be powerless to stop it.

The farmer had been shocked when his wife had run off. He thought they had been getting along well. Oh sure, they had had their differences. Sure, he had been upset with his daughter's seeming cruelty. But they could have worked it out if she hadn't taken off.

Ten years. It didn't seem it had been that long. He had forgotten them both for the most part. He only wished for them when he had taken too much ale and become melancholy. Then to find his daughter and to have her beg him to save her.

The people around here didn't care. They had never treated him with any respect. None of them had even tried to be his friend, and he knew they had laughed at him behind his back when his wife had run off, taking his daughter with her. Vector had secretly enjoyed the position the villagers had been thrust into. He never traded any goods anyway. He was a farmer, and a very good one at that. The people needed the food he produced. They should treat me with some respect, he thought to himself. He didn't like the women being hurt. But then again, not one of them ever gave him a second look. He didn't care if the villagers stopped the warlord. He wanted his daughter safely returned to him, and he really didn't care who was hurt or killed in the process.

It was three weeks now since Iolaus and Hercules had left. Sira was in her room at Alcmene's. The hour was early. Hercus played on the floor with his little wooden toys and the cat. The healer had retired early, taking Hercus with her to give Alcmene and Jason time alone. Jason had been gone for over two weeks and it was his first night back. Sira smiled to herself, remembering Jason's reaction to his new study. To say that he was pleased would be an understatement.

"We did it for you so that you'd have a quiet place," Alcmene had told him, her face beaming with a wide smile. "Sort of a retreat, you might say."

Jason, outgoing as usual, had grabbed his wife and hugged her to him, then lifted her up and swung her around. She was flushed when he set her back on her feet. He had hugged Sira and Hercus as well.

"I'm overwhelmed by your thoughtfulness," he exclaimed. "You've put in all my favorite things. I love it, girls. And I love you for doing it."

"Mommy?" said Hercus. "Watch what kitty do."

"Does, Hercus. Watch what kitty does," corrected his mother.

"All right. But watch."

Hercus set up his little men in front of the cat and she knocked them down with a delicate paw.

"Father will be surprised to see how much better Kitty is, will he not?"

"Yes, he will. You have taken very good care of her and I am proud of you."

Shortly after they had arrived at the farm, Hercus had found a very bedraggled and sickly cat in the woods. She was injured and her back legs didn't seem to work right. She was obviously in pain. Hercus had very carefully brought her to his mother to be healed. He was forever bringing her sick and injured animals to heal. She always tried. Some she could help, some she could not. Lately, she had encouraged Hercus to help her and take an active part in the healings. She couldn't transfer with an animal, but a great deal of healing could be done without transfer. Anyone strong of mind could heal if they knew how to focus their mind and thoughts. Iolaus encouraged the empath to teach their son how to be of help in a healing.

She was a pretty little cat. Not much more than a kitten really. She was mostly white with large black and orange spots. Now that she had been eating well, her fur was soft and thick. She was very gentle, and devoted to Hercus. Her back legs were still stiff but it didn't keep her from following the boy everywhere he went. He named her Kitty, and she came willingly when he called her. Kitty often brought Hercus mice as a show of her affection.

The empath missed the hunter. She felt a great void in her life, as if a part of herself was missing. She thought of him constantly. She would say, "I must show Iolaus," or, "I will ask Iolaus." Then she would remember that he was far from her and her heart would ache. While the hunter was strong of mind, he still couldn't use his mind to communicate with fluency. He had to make a very conscious effort to bring his thoughts to the girl he loved.

Before the yosemin had met him, she had seldom used voice to communicate. It was so much easier to simply think. Besides this, the unspoken thoughts also sent the true feelings of that person to the one being communicated with. But Sira was now used to conveying her thoughts in voice to her husband and son. Now she not only missed the mind's touch, but she missed speaking in voice to him. She loved the way his words caressed her. His tone could change with his emotions, and she had learned to understand the different tones. His voice alone could make her aware of his feelings even if she shut out the mind's touch. She maintained an almost constant mind link with the hunter. Not speaking with the mind, but feeling the presence of the other in her mind, her soul and her heart. It was a comforting thing, but not enough to dispel the loneliness.

She sent her mind out to her husband.

"Hercus, I want you to close your eyes and think about your father."

Are we going to talk to him?" There was excitement in the child's voice.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes, Mommy." He smiled at his mother.

"Come sit by me and we will hold hands. Then we can try and send a message to him."

Hercus sat on the bed by his mother. "I miss him so much."

The healer felt the pain in her own heart. "I know, Love. But it is important to let your father do things like this. We want him to be happy, and being with Uncle Hercules once in a while makes him happy, and he loves us all the more because we understand."

"I know, Mommy." The child sounded so grave and much older than his years.

Sira smiled. "Open your mind, Hercus, as I have taught you. Think about your thoughts reaching out. See in your mind, the thoughts traveling over the earth and reaching your father. Relax and feel only your thoughts. Feel only love and comfort coming from your mind. Let your father feel the love. I will guide you, my son. Relax. Yes, Hercus. That is it. Do you feel your father now?"

Iolaus felt Sira's mind touch his and he opened his mind to her. Then he felt her guiding his son's thought to him as well. The hunter was moved to feel the love of his son. He hadn't realized how much being away from them could hurt. He admitted to himself that he had begun to feel restless and confined. He had longed for the old days when he and Hercules had roamed the countryside. He had missed this life. But now he realized he missed his family much more. Still, he wasn't sorry he had come. He wanted to be here. He wanted to help these people. He had made friends in the quiet village.

Barnabus was shaping into a real fighter. Hector was doing well also. He was always happy, and laughed even at his own misfortune. Not because he didn't care. It was most apparent that his feelings ran deep. But as he said himself. "Life is too short to spend it bellyaching."

The hunter smiled to himself. Then there was Granny. She was Calla's grandmother. People said she was ailing. But the hunter saw no evidence of it. She was a tough old bird. She reminded him of his own grandmother. She had taken to heart what Hercules and Iolaus had said about helping them. When she left the clearing she promptly found a stout piece of wood that she kept by the front door of her cottage. She encouraged Calla on her desire to fight Demos and the animals that followed him.

The hunter had overheard Granny telling Calla once that while she approved of Calla wanting to stop these men, she didn't approve of revenge.

"You must realize, even if you could kill every man-jack of them, it won't bring back what they have taken from you. Revenge is not the answer. It can turn a good person into someone as bad, or worse than their enemies. But a person should protect themselves, their homes and their families from an enemy and make the best of whatever life might hand them. Accept your life for what it is. Do your best to improve your life so long as you do it with integrity. Then thank the gods, because there is always someone worse off than you."

Iolaus thought it was good advice. One night, Granny had found him sitting outside in the dark. The hunter was brooding about his loneliness.

"What has your insides in a knot, young man?" she asked him.

The hunter found himself telling Granny about Sira. Everything about Sira, what she was and what she could do. "She's a yosemin. A healer."

"I've heard tales of these yosemin. But I thought they were myths."

"No, the yosemins are very real. But there are very few left. And they avoid humans for the most part."

"The old tales I've heard say these people can steal a person's mind. I don't know as I believe such a thing is possible."

"No, Granny, it's not possible. But they are telepathic and Sira is also an empath. Sira healed me. I was almost dead and she saved me. She didn't steal my mind."

When the hunter spoke of the girl he loved, his voice was soft. The feelings he had for the little yosemin healer were plainly heard in his voice and in his words.

"She may not have stolen your mind, young man," Granny laughed, "but she sure has stolen something from you."

The hunter raised an eyebrow at the old woman's comment.

"She's stolen your heart."

The hunter grinned. "You're right. She has stolen my heart, and my soul. We have a little boy. We named him Hercus after his Uncle Hercules. He's a little bundle of love and energy." The hunter began to pace. "It's tearing me apart to be away from them."

"Then why in blazes are you here?" Granny chided.

"I was a fool. Sira is afraid of too much human contact. Humans and the yosemins have always been enemies. Besides that, she's of the forest and she becomes ill if she's away from it for very long. We have a cabin deep in the woods. It's not far from where she was raised. All her people are gone. I took her back to the forest she loves the most. But I got bored." He rubbed his temple. He felt a pressure there. "Before I married Sira, Hercules and I never stayed for long in one place. We went from place to place, helping people and fighting monsters and giants. It was exciting. We never knew where we would be from day to day." Now the hunter grinned. "I thought I missed this life. I guess in a way I really did. I like helping people. Besides, I'm good at it. I can take pride in it. It's hard to see the accomplishment in living a solitary life in the middle of nowhere. But the truth is, I'm just no good without her."

"You should go back," Granny whispered.

"No, I've got this to do first. I owe this one to myself. Then I'll have to find a way to be happy in our forest."

Granny sniffed. "Don't kid me. You aren't cut out for that."

"Then what do I do?" There was a desperation in the question.

"Bring your family with you once in awhile. Not all the adventures you go on are so dangerous. If this young woman loves you half as much as you love her, she'll get over her aversion to being around people and begin to help you both find a satisfying life."

"Humans have killed her people, hunted them down and murdered them, sold them into slavery, tried to exploit their telepathic power. People are still afraid of her and her kind."

"Well, I prefer to judge a person by their deeds and by their hearts, not by some prejudice or superstition. Bring her here. When this is over, bring her here. I look forward to meeting her and your son."

The hunter grinned. "Thanks, Granny."

The old woman smiled at him. "You're a good man, Iolaus. May the gods bless you for what you're doing for us."

The hunter sent his own message to Sira and their son. And in the message there was a plea for their understanding. He felt the love and acceptance come to him and enfold him. Somehow this remarkable woman he had married did understand, and there really was no resentment in her at what he had begun to think of as a desertion. She let him feel her pride in him and what he was trying to do for these people.

"The earth is with you, my love, and so am I. Stop punishing yourself for having needs and desires. Our souls joined as one, has filled my every desire. Our forest home is my sanctuary. But it is not as if we must stay forever buried in the deeps of the forest. Your happiness is more important than all else. Save these people from this warlord and make me proud of you. Be careful and come back to me. You are my soul."

The words filled his mind and his heart. And he felt a lifting of his spirits. Granny had been right. They would somehow find a way to make them both happy.

It had been dark for over an hour when the men crept toward the cottage. The defenders of Acubus had been posting a guard for nearly two weeks now. Iolaus was on guard tonight. When the two men past Iolaus' hiding place without detecting him, the hunter waited a slow count of a hundred before he gave the signal of an owl call.

"What was that?" one of the men whispered.

"An owl, you fool. Be quiet!" his partner hissed.

Hercules had heard the call, and with a warning to Vector he went into hiding. "Don't mess this up, or you'll deal with me. And if you think Demos is dangerous..." He left his threat incomplete. But the implication was there.

The men approached the cottage. And without knocking, they entered.

"Well, Vector, here we are again."

"How is Venin? Is she all right?" The farmer was obviously agitated.

Calm down! Hercules shouted in his mind. They're going to know something is up.

One of the men was heavy set, his belly hanging over his pants. The other man was short and stocky. The demigod could watch them from his place of concealment. He dubbed them Fatty and Shorty.

"Your daughter is fine. At least for now. And as long as you cooperate, she'll stay that way."

Vector shot a look at the curtain the big man hid behind. You fool, the demigod thought. But neither Shorty or Fatty seemed to notice.

Hercules had instructed Vector to insist on seeing his daughter. But he was having serious doubts the farmer could carry it off. He had threatened and reasoned with the farmer but the man seemed to have no backbone.

"What if they get rough?" Vector had asked.

"Then I'll stop them." Hercules had stated in exasperation.

"And if I tell them of your plans?"

"Then I'll stop you." There was no compassion in the half god's tone.

Vector squirmed. He took a deep breath and started to speak. Then he seemed to lose his nerve.

"What's got you so nervous?" Fatty asked.

Here it is, Hercules thought.

"I want to see my daughter," Vector croaked, from a throat gone dry.

"Naw. Here's a note from her." Fatty handed a parchment to Vector.

The farmer took the roll of porous paper with shaking hands, and unrolling it carefully read the note. He let it roll back up.

"This proves nothing. How do I know she wrote it? I must see her. I have to know she's all right."

"Don't you know your own daughter's hand?" Shorty sneered.

"No, I don't."

"Well, that's your own tough luck. You aint seeing her. She's fine. In fact, she's more than fine, eh, partner?" Shorty punched playfully at Fatty.

Vector came off the chair he had been sitting in. "You're animals. I demand to see her!"

"You demand? You demand?! You're in no position to demand anything."

The farmer turned pale. Perspiration was beaded on his upper lip. "I'll see her. Or there will be no more help from me."

Now Hercules was really getting worried. Any minute now this thing could get really ugly. Either Vector would back down or these men were going to get mean. The big man didn't want to be forced to eliminate these men. If they didn't return to Demos, the warlord would surely suspect the worst and most likely kill the woman. Or he might storm the village. While the men of Acubus had worked hard to learn what they could to help stop Demos and his men, they were unprepared for a night raid of twenty odd men on horseback. The demigod had gotten to know these people. They were through running. They would make a stand. But at what cost?

"You want I should hurt you?" Fatty sneered.

"You can hurt me or kill me. But I must see my daughter."

Hercules could have hugged the farmer.

"If we go back without knowing where the goods are, the girl is as good as dead."

Vector sighed. "You've killed her already. That's why you won't let me see her." Tears flowed down the pudgy cheeks of the farmer to be lost in the stubble on his face. "You've killed her. Well then, kill me also. I won't help you anymore."

Yes! Hercules whispered in his mind.

Fatty motioned his head to Shorty. The two drew aside. Hercules couldn't hear their conversation, but it was an animated debate.

The two turned back to Vector.

"Okay," Fatty said. "We'll take you to see her. And you can answer to Demos.

At this the farmer went a sick shade of green. But he headed towards the door.

"Now, where have you bastards hidden the goods this time?" Shorty's voice was harsh.

"No, not until I see Venin." There was a note of firmness in the statement.

Hercules hung back until he was sure they were past Iolaus. Then he silently let himself out of the house and followed them. He soon caught up to the hunter, who was also following the three men. They stayed well enough behind to insure their pursuit would remain undetected, but close enough so that they wouldn't lose them and could help Vector should he need it.

"What took so long?" Iolaus whispered. "What were you doing in there, having a bloody tea party?"

"We saved you some tea and cakes," Hercules grinned.

Those ahead of them stopped, and the half man and the hunter almost stumbled into the small grove of trees where they had stopped. They heard voices in time and went silently to ground.

There was another animated debate. Then Shorty left the others and moved ahead. Iolaus caught his friend's eye and motioned to indicate he planned to follow. Hercules nodded. The big man would stay here and keep an eye on Vector and Fatty.

Go with the gods, my friend, Hercules thought. Then as an afterthought, and with the earth. The big man smiled to himself at this. He had confidence in Iolaus, who was a better woodsman than himself. There had been no question of who should follow Shorty. If anyone could get past Fatty where he waited with Vector, and still stay close enough to Shorty to follow him to the warlord's camp, it was the hunter. Hercules knew Shorty had gone ahead to warn Demos of the change in plans. If all that he had heard of the warlord was true, he didn't envy the man his task.

Iolaus approached the camp warily. There would surely be guards. Shorty hadn't given a signal and there hadn't been any challenge. But not posting guards would be a foolish move. The hunter moved silently around the camp. No guards. Demos was a bigger fool than the hunter had thought. He had never had to worry about an attack from the village. But still to leave himself and his men so vulnerable was foolhardy.

Iolaus located Shorty in the camp talking with a man. The other man was in shadow and the hunter couldn't see his face. He couldn't really hear their conversation. Just a word now and then. But he saw the slap that landed on Shorty's cheek. Not a punch, but an open handed slap. There was real power and anger behind that slap. The sound of it was loud in the hunter's ears. Shorty put his hand over his cheek but he stood his ground. The camp had gone quiet. After a few more words from the man in the shadows Shorty left the camp. The man moved from the shadows and across the camp.

Demos. The warlord moved to a tent, and lifting the flap, he stuck his head in. When he stepped back, a woman followed him. She was tall and slender. Even from where the hunter was hidden and with the poor light he could see this woman had a poise about her. The impression the hunter got was of beauty. It was a thought born more of the way she carried herself than anything. But the light was too poor to confirm the impression.

The woman and the warlord talked a moment. The hidden watcher could see that she was not pleased. After a moment she reentered the tent. Cautiously the hunter moved closer. When the woman reappeared she was dressed in a dirty ragged dress. She sat on the ground near the fire and Demos tied her hands behind her back. He had a quick talk to some of his men.

The wait wasn't long. Fatty and Vector entered the camp. A moment later, Hercules joined Iolaus.

The farmer went to his knees in front of the woman. While the men couldn't hear what was being said, it was plain to see that Venin seemed, at least, to be quite the pitiful frightened victim.

The hunter wasn't impressed. He whispered to Hercules his doubt of the drama being played before them. "If you'll pardon me for saying it, they were thick as thieves a moment ago."

"Do you think Vector is in on this?"

"I don't know, but somehow I don't think so."

Demos had had enough. They heard him shout, "Are there goods in the village?"

The farmer stood up and faced the warlord. Hercules had instructed the farmer to tell the warlord where the goods were being held. They weren't there of course. But they wanted the warlord to make his move. He had to be led to believe he would find what he sought as he had so many times before.

The farmer and the warlord talked for a moment. Then Fatty took the farmer's arm to lead him away. Obviously he had wanted something from the warlord. His daughter's freedom perhaps?

"I wonder what that little weasel was saying," Iolaus mused. "He could have been spilling his guts about us."

Hercules shook his head. "I don't think so. I think he's finally realized this may be the only chance for his daughter. He did all right back there at the farm."

"Yeah. He wanted to get here to turn us in."

Hercules chuckled. "Well, I guess we'll soon see, won't we?"

Fatty and Vector left the camp.

"I'll follow to make sure he gets back safely," Hercules suggested.

The hunter nodded. He had no intention of leaving yet. He wanted to get a better idea of the situation here. There were only fourteen men all together including Demos. That evened the odds a bit. Or could some of the men be elsewhere? That was an uncomfortable possibility. They could be behind me now, he thought. He stole a glance around him even though he didn't expect to see anything. More likely, the villagers had over estimated the number. It would be an easy mistake to make when one was frightened.

Demos grabbed Venin up and hugged her. The girl giggled as the warlord cut the ropes that had held her hands. Then she stood up on tiptoes and playfully bit at his chin. He pulled her to him and took her mouth. His hands were on her bottom. Well, if the girl was frightened or repulsed by the man's advances, she sure hid it well. Things were definitely not as Iolaus had been led to believe.

The warlord and the woman disappeared into the tent. With infinite care the hunter worked his way closer. One wrong move, any noise, and he wouldn't have a chance in Tartarus. Demos knew who he was. There would be no way to lie his way out of a knife in the belly or a quick slice across the throat. The hunter swallowed just thinking about it. He had no illusions about these men. They would react first and ask questions later. That is if there was enough left of him to answer them.

A little closer. Carefully. He could hear muffled voices. Then other sounds. Tartarus on a stick! he thought. He moved away. What they were doing in that tent was more than obvious. And it wasn't something the hunter wanted, or needed to hear.

He moved around the camp again. He took his time since he was closer to the camp this time, and therefore in more danger. When he had completed his second round, he was convinced there were no antagonists lurking about the outer compound. It still didn't mean there couldn't be others in another camp. But somehow the hunter didn't think so. These men were too confident. Too sure they had the upper hand. It would have been a wise move to have men at another camp to approach Acubus from the opposite direction. But the villagers had said that Demos and his men always came in a tight group. Also a foolish move.

Iolaus was beginning to wonder how the warlord had lived this long. A handful of men truly skilled with longbows, or a well placed shot with a catapult filled with small sharp bits of metal, would end this thing in seconds. Of course they had none of these things. Besides that, neither he nor Hercules were the type to attack from ambush. The demigod would give Demos a chance. Not that Hercules or Iolaus believed he would take it. Still, he would be offered the option.

The hunter returned to his original position, and soon after, Hercules and two others joined him. The hunter motioned for them to fall back. He wanted to put some distance between them and the camp. He needed to talk with the son of Zeus.

"What have you found out, my friend?" the big man asked.

"There are only fourteen in the camp, not counting the girl. They have no guards posted. There are two carts. One is already loaded, the other not. There are four mules. To pull the carts no doubt. There are fifteen horses. The horses are kept in a tight bunch at the edge of the camp."

Hercules turned to one of the men from the village. His name was Vantos, but everyone called him Jug.

"Jug, when Demos comes to your village, does he have a woman with him?"

"No. No woman."

"Does he bring both carts?"

"Yeah. That's how we figured out that he raided other villages."

Hercules nodded thoughtfully. "Then most likely he leaves the girl here, maybe with a guard or two. Or he may have her and a keeper wait for him at a prearranged place. If that's the case it shouldn't be too hard to get the woman out after Demos and his men head for the village."

Jug's partner, Giles, interrupted. "Why not get the others and attack their camp? They're sitting ducks."

"Because the first thing they would do is kill the girl," Hercules reminded him.

"We could maybe get to her first. Besides, she aint one of us."

Jug punched his arm. "We can't take a chance on them killing the woman, you fool. Could you live with yourself if our actions got her killed?"

Looking sheepish, Giles shook his head.

Hercules grinned at him. "I don't work from ambush anyway. I'll give them a chance to walk away from this. I don't think Demos is smart enough to take it. But he'll be given the opportunity anyway.

"There's more going on here than meets the eye," the hunter offered.

The frown between the demigod's brows deepened. "How do you mean?"

"Venin is no prisoner. She moves around the camp as she pleases, and she and Demos are lovers."

There was silence. The half god was the first to break it. "You're sure of this?"

"Damn sure. She led him on." There was conviction in the hunter's voice.

Hercules thought for a moment. "Still, there could be several explanations for this. We'll have to work on the premise that Venin is in need of our help. I'll leave Jug and Giles with you. When Demos and his men leave for the village, it will be up to you to get the woman out, my friend."

"And if the woman doesn't want out?"

The big man raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Hog tie her. Then get back to the village as fast as you can. I have a feeling we're going to need your help."

The hunter nodded. Hercules was right. They must do their best to insure the girl's safety. He thrust out his arm to his friend and the demigod took it in a firm warrior's grasp.

The big man hesitated. There was no way of knowing what dangers they might encounter in the next few hours. He needed to get back to the village. He had left Barnabus guarding Vector. But he wanted a word with the farmer and he wanted a chance to talk with the other villagers. Then, if there was time, he wanted to rest.

Iolaus insisted on taking the first watch. He would keep an eye on the camp for a while then try to rest. But he had every intention of being up before dawn. The men Hercules had left were good men. Giles' only fault was a tendency to act too quickly, not taking time to think. He was a fair hand with a longbow when he took his time. He was in his late fifties, the hunter guessed. What he could do with leather was true art. Jug was much younger. He had a young wife and a baby. He was thoughtful and methodical. Both men could be trusted, but the hunter would rather trust himself. He was better at this sort of thing. He was cunning and full of old hunter's tricks. And you could never tell when they would come in handy.

Jug came up to Iolaus where he sat watching the camp. He brought a flask of tea with him. Without a word he uncorked the flask and handed it to the other man. The hunter smiled his thanks and took a drink. It was cold but it tasted good. The young man seemed reluctant to leave. Iolaus motioned for Jug to join him.

"How come there aren't more young family men in your village?"

The hunter had wondered about this before. Barnabus had mentioned that some of them had left because of Demos. He was curious to know if this were the only reason.

The young man shrugged. "There's not much for them here. Some have sought their fortune with the army. Two of our men were killed by that bas... By Demos. Some have taken their families and left because of him. We worry about our women after what happened to Calla and the other girl. We're barely making a living now. There aren't enough farmers left in Acubus to feed us all. We rely too heavily on trading for our needs. So if we have nothing to trade..." He shrugged.

"But you stayed," the hunter offered.

"My family has been here for generations. Besides that, I'm stubborn." Now he asked a question of his own. "What will happen to that woman?" He motioned with his head to indicate Demos' camp and Venin. "I mean, if she's in on this thing."

"She'll be taken to Corinth, and the authorities will decide."

"She could be put in prison or worse."

Iolaus nodded. "Yes, that's true. But if she's in on this scam with Demos she deserves to be punished."

The young man looked skeptical. "You believe she's here of her own free will, don't you?"

"Yes. After what I saw... And heard. I think she's here because she wants to be."

"But still, I can't see a woman being put in prison."

"We're talking about extortion, theft, even murder. Those men in your village were murdered. They didn't have a chance against the kind of scum Demos attracts. But the warlord made it necessary for innocent merchants to defend themselves with the inevitable effect. In my scroll, that's murder. Then what about Calla and the other woman? Did they deserve their fate?" The hunter paused. "I know it's a hard thing to think of a woman being put through the horrors of life in a prison. But if she's a willing participant in this business, she bought stakes in a rough game. She'll have to pay the price."

Jug nodded. "I know you're right. But maybe she only seems willing because it's the only way she can survive."

Iolaus nodded. "You could be right. We'll just have to wait and see. If that's the case, I'm sure the authorities will consider it if she goes before them."

"I guess so."

The hunter smiled at him. "Get some sleep. I want you alert on your watch tonight."

Jug grinned and rose to return to where Giles was already sleeping.

Demos came out of the tent. He stretched, then moved to the fire. He put more wood on and moved a pot of Tassis tea closer to the flames to warm. The warlord was pleased. He was always in a good mood after he and Venin had been together. She's some woman, he thought. My woman. The outlaw had never had just one woman before. He had never thought he would want that. But with Venin it was different. He had always taken his pleasure by force, or paid for it if he couldn't find a willing partner. Of course that's how he had found Venin. He had paid for her time and her favors. He had saved her from that life. Taken her from the house of sin she had helped her mother run. His main objection to the woman was the fact that she wasn't always willing. Considering what I've done for her, she should be falling all over herself to please me. Still, if I can give her money or some trinket she's much more cooperative. Once a whore, always a whore.

The warlord had never forced himself on her. She was too dangerous. While he would never admit it, he was somewhat afraid of this woman. Seeing her kill her mother in cold blood had set the stage for fear. He had also not tried to force her because he needed her. He wouldn't admit this either. But since he had been with her, they had done well. She was smart. This last year had been very profitable. The warlord knew this scam couldn't go on much longer. At least not here in this village. But there were other villages.

He came to a decision. This time, or maybe next, will be our last raid on Acubus. He admitted he was beginning to get nervous. The villagers might try to stop us. Not that this is a real concern. These people are sheep ready for the slaughter. But there were other warlords for hire that might be called upon to help. How many times had he and his men done this sort of work? He would tell Venin later. He knew she wanted to kill her father. What had made the girl hate her parents so desperately, he had no idea. Not that he cared. She can kill all the damn relatives she wishes, so long as it makes me money.

The warlord poured himself a mug of tea and walked around the camp. He cradled the warm cup in his hands. The night wasn't cold, but still the warmth of the mug felt good on his hands, and the tea was strong, like he liked it.

It's too bad in a way, he thought. There will never be another village so full of tradable goods. The setup here is the best because we have a man on the inside, no matter how unwillingly. Vector is an easy target because he's a fool. Demos wondered, not for the first time if Vector used his head at all. The problem is, we're pushing our luck here. The warlord had an uncomfortable feeling, maybe a premonition. He had always gone with the moment. Always followed his premonitions. He knew full well that was one of the reasons he had survived this long.

Yes. Very soon we must move on. It won't be so bad. Venin has put aside some of the profit from our ventures.

He had never saved anything. But the girl had suggested it.

"You can never tell when you'll need the money. What if you were hurt and laid up for a time? You can get more help, as well as shelter and food with a little jingle in your purse than without."

She was right, he thought. So why not? I don't need money for women any longer. Besides, I'm making more now than I ever have. I can afford to put some aside. What is already there should be enough to last until we can figure out a new scam. What his men would do, he didn't give a thought to. He really didn't give a damn. He had always figured they would do what he told them or they could get out.

He looked around him now. It angered him that he found so few men here. The damn fools. Couldn't they realize what a good thing they had going here? Taking that woman from the village was a mistake. Letting her get away, an even bigger mistake. It was just something like this that could drive these people to seek help. Taking goods was one thing. Besides, Venin had convinced him to leave enough so that the villagers could eat and get the supplies needed to make more of their wares.

Yes, taking their goods was one thing. Taking their women was another. When he had found out about it, and that it had not been the first time, he was furious. At least the first time they had killed the girl. One of the things that had infuriated him the most was the fact that they had acted on their own. They were his men. They had no business acting on their own. What they had done had jeopardized his arrangement here. When he had confronted the men, one of them had tried to stand up to him.

"You have a woman anytime you want. What about us?"

Demos had delighted in shoving his knife to the hilt in the bastard's belly.

That same night four of his men quietly helped themselves to as much of the merchandise as they could carry. After all, they reasoned, they had helped to steal it from the villages. They deserved their share. When the warlord found the men and the goods missing, he flew into a rage. His other men avoided him. Only Pollux and Venin dared to approach him when he was in a black mood. Pollux and the bandit leader had been together for a very long time. Pollux could get away with more than most of the men that followed the warlord. While nothing formal had been said, Pollux was considered his second in command.

Two days after finding the men missing, Demos had caught another man helping himself to merchandise. He was as fed up with Demos and his moods as the others that left had been. Demos killed this man despite Pollux's objection. Pollux was aware that Demos was pushing these men too far. They were getting bored with the constant roaming of the countryside, raiding village after village. They wanted some time in a larger town, some time for wenching and merriment. And Demos' highhandedness of late was just the excuse the men needed to justify deserting him.

Demos stretched. He was too keyed up to sleep. He poured himself more tea, and grabbing a chunk of cheese and some bread he sat back by the fire. He shrugged, still thinking about the men that were gone. No matter, he thought. I can raid the village with half this number. The fools of Acubus are like sheep. The warlord chuckled to himself. It was invigorating the way they manipulated Venin's father. She wanted to kill him when they were done with this little scam.

"I want to see him squirm just like my mother did. I want him to beg."

Demos shivered. He remembered the look in the girl's eyes when she had killed her mother. What a woman, he thought again. It's good to have her, so long as I don't turn my back on her.

Iolaus watched the camp for a couple of hours, then he woke Giles. The hunter yawned.

"Give me about four hours, then wake me," he instructed.

"Jug and I'll finish the night."

"Four hours, Giles. I want to be up and ready when they start to stir over there. If the woman is taken to another place to wait for Demos, we'll have to follow." He yawned again. "Any sign that they're getting ready to make their move before the four hours, wake me."

Hercules had returned to the village. He took time to talk to the defenders. He wanted them ready by first light.

"We'll let them get into the village before we make our move. We have to stop them, not just run them off. If we can get some of these men to Corinth to go before the authorities, all the better. But don't take unnecessary chances."

Next he had gone to Vector. "Is there anything you want to tell me, Vector?"

"Like what?"

"Like what you were talking so earnestly to Demos about?"

"I tried to convince him to let Venin go. I promised to help him anyway. But he wouldn't listen. Did you see how he had her tied up? She looked half starved."

"Well, she wasn't tied up when Iolaus first saw her. In fact, she seemed to be a part of the group, not a prisoner."

The farmer looked astonished. "What are you saying? Surely you saw how they treat her. Dressed in rags."

"She was dressed well and untied when Iolaus first saw her. She was tied just moments before you got there."

The farmer began to pace. "Well, she's been with them almost a year now. She wouldn't be tied up all the time."

Hercules sighed. "No, you're right. She wouldn't be. So why hasn't she tried to escape?"

"She did try. She told me so. But Demos caught her. He beat her and almost killed her. She lives in constant fear for her life."

"There's another thing, Vector." The big man spoke with compassion in his voice. He knew this wouldn't be easy for the farmer to hear. "Demos and your daughter are lovers."

The other man hung his head. "I guessed as much. But it's not by choice. One of the threats Demos uses against her is the threat of turning her over to his men. Of course the men want her. She had to be with Demos to protect herself from those animals. If she doesn't at least pretend compliance, he'll hurt her. Surely you see that."

"All right, Vector. Maybe you're right." Hercules sighed. The frown between his brows deepened. He hated to think of anyone going through all these months of torture. But especially an innocent woman.

"What's going to happen to my daughter?" There was desperation in the man's voice.

"Iolaus will get her out of there," Hercules stated with conviction. He didn't doubt for a minute that the hunter would pull it off.

He poured himself and the farmer some tea then wearily took a seat at the table. He motioned for the farmer to join him. The demigod knew he needed to rest, but with the state his mind was in he doubted he would find sleeping easy.

"You said your daughter moved away when she was ten?"

The farmer nodded. "Yes. Her mother ran off with a traveling trader. She took Venin with her."

"You hadn't seen her in all that time?"

The other man took a sip of his tea. "They ended up in a village not all that far from here. I sent word to them a couple of times. But I received no response. A man I know, Lucious, would go through their village once in a while. They could have sent word back by him. I found out from Lucious that the trader had left them after only a few months. I guess they took in laundry or something to get by. I sent a message, telling my wife that she could come back. I would have welcomed her. She wasn't interested. I sent money a couple of times. She took the money but never sent any word." He shrugged. "Lucious doesn't come around anymore so I hadn't heard anything of them in years. Not until some of Demos' men came and took me to their camp." The farmer ran a hand through his hair. "It's been awful knowing he's hurting and using her. At first she pleaded with me to cooperate with Demos and to save her. But now she just seems to live in a daze, as if she has resigned herself to her fate. What could I do? Demos would kill her in a heartbeat if I tried to cross him."

"Trust Iolaus. If anyone can get her away from there safely, he can." With a sigh he rose and went to the door. Hector came up to him. "I need some rest, Keep an eye on Vector. I trust Iolaus' judgment. If he believes there is more here than meets the eye, I tend to believe him. All we need is for Vector to get a warning to Demos."

Hector nodded. "Don't worry. He isn't going anywhere. Get some rest. I'll wake you at dawn."

When Giles woke Iolaus, it was still dark. The stars were gone, chased away by the soon to appear fiery orb.

The tanner handed the hunter a mug of cold tea. "Funny business there in the night." He motioned toward the outlaw camp with his head.

Iolaus took the tea. "How so?"

"That short man that took Vector to Demos. He took some stuff from the loaded wagon. Then he woke up the fat guy. They snuck a couple of horses and took off."

"It seems Demos' men aren't as loyal as we thought," Iolaus observed.

"I followed them a little ways while Jug watched the camp. But I couldn't keep up with the horses, and I was afraid they might hear me. I'm not much good in the woods."

"I wonder where they were going," the hunter thought out loud.

"I did hear a little of what they said. I guess the short guy resented being slapped. There was something about Demos losing his grip. Anyway, it seems plain they were pulling out." The tanner grinned. "Two less, eh?"

Iolaus grinned back. "You did well. Thanks, Giles."

The tanner scratched the stubble on his chin. "Be glad when this is over. I need some hot Tassis tea and some warm food."

"Yeah, you and me both," the hunter laughed.

In one fluid movement he was on his feet. He drained the mug of tea and handed the cup back to the other man. With a stretch he moved to take up his former position behind some boulders. It gave him an excellent view of the camp. Besides that, he could get into the camp easily from here. There was concealment for a good part of the way. He settled himself more comfortably. I need a bath, he whispered to himself.

The sky was just turning golden in the east when Demos again emerged from the tent. The warlord stirred up the fire and added some wood. He filled a pot with water from a water skin. After putting the pot on the fire to heat, he stood looking around the camp for a moment. Then he bellowed. The unexpected sound in the silent dawn made the hunter jump.

"Get up, you lazy bastards! You'd sleep all bloody day if I let you." A few well placed kicks roused the others.

Nice guy, the hunter thought. He knew when the desertion of the two men was discovered. It hadn't taken long. The man that discovered it went to the horses first, then the wagons. He seemed to be like a second in command or something. He went straight to the warlord. The hunter was ready for the explosion this time. He wasn't disappointed.

"Their lives won't be worth spit if our paths cross again!"

Venin emerged from the tent. She wore a traveling skirt of leather. Her dark brown hair was caught up in a ribbon of sky blue. Her feet were adorned in fine leather boots. And at her belt hung a wicked looking knife.

"Maybe if you hadn't slapped the little pig, he wouldn't have left." Her voice rang with sarcasm.

Demos jerked around to face her. That he wanted to hit her was most obvious. As quickly as he had turned, she had pulled the knife from her belt. She held it blade up, ready to use.

"Don't try it, Demos," she warned. The knife was at his middle.

"Don't tell me how to treat my men, Venin."

"How many more do you plan to run off, Demos?"

"To Tartarus with them. I can find other men."

"And how long will you keep them?" She still held the knife poised and ready.

"Are you going to try and use that thing?" He pointed at the blade.

"I wouldn't just try, Demos. I'd gut you like a fish." She smiled sweetly. "Are we going to stand here all day and argue? Or are you going into Acubus?"

The warlord stood a moment, staring at the girl. He hated to back down, especially in front of his men. He wanted to slap her. He wanted to show his men he had the upper hand with this woman. It hurt his pride to turn away and do nothing. But he knew he didn't stand a chance in Tartarus. He took a step back and deliberately turned his back on her.

"Pack up, you lazy bastards!" he shouted at the men. Then he turned back to the girl. "Someday, Venin, you'll push me too far."

She smiled at him. "And someday, I'll gut you just as I promised."

The men began to break camp. The warlord was in a sour mood. If he had had more men, he would have sent a couple of them after the two that had stolen from him. He would like to have used them to set an example. What he had said was right. He could get other men. But what Venin had said was also right. How long would he keep them? He needed to put the fear back into those who followed him. He needed to make it clear that if they crossed him, there would be a price to pay for their disloyalty.

It was like him not to realize that he could insure the loyalty of his men to a much greater extent with a little compassion and understanding. So the warlord stormed and fumed. The tent was taken down and loaded on a cart. The carts were hitched to the mules, the horses saddled and made ready. And throughout it all, Demos yelled and cursed.

If he's mad now, wait until he gets to Acubus and encounters Hercules, the hunter smiled to himself. That should make his day. He wished he could be there to see the look on the warlord's face when he realized his reign of terror was over.

The men were ready to leave. Two horses were led and tied to a tree nearby. Demos had a quick word with the girl. The hunter wished desperately that he could hear them. The order to mount up was given. There was some confusion as the men took to their horses. The carts were started and the men followed. Venin and one man waited at the camp. The hunter said a silent prayer of thanks. He wanted to get in, get the girl, and get to Acubus.

He waited until the men on horseback were well out of range.

Jug whispered in his ear. "I think the girl is getting ready to move out. Shouldn't we make our move?"

Iolaus nodded and drew his sword. "All right, quietly now," he whispered.

Slowly, with infinite care, he began to move forward. He didn't trust this woman. He had a strong feeling that she wasn't going to like being rescued. The woman and the man stood with their back to those who approached. Iolaus wanted to get as close to both of them as he could before he made his move. He doubted a shout would still reach the horsemen but he had no intention of finding out. He hadn't forgotten the knife Venin carried at her belt, or the speed in which she had wielded it at Demos. He motioned for Jug and Giles to take the man. He would deal with the woman.

Their progress was slow. The man and woman might decide to leave before he could get close enough, which would mean he would have to stop them. Or either one of them might turn around and spot those closing in on them. Just a little closer, he thought. A couple more steps.

Venin turned. Whether she had heard something or had turned for another reason, he didn't know. He lunged at her. She would have shouted but the hunter's sword was against her middle. He shook his head at her. She quickly drew in her breath. The man with her turned. He made a quick lunge at Giles. The tanner stopped the blow and landed one of his own. Jug followed it up with a wicked right to the man's face. It split his lip and blood showered them both. The hilt of Giles' sword on the man's skull put a stop to the resistance.

Iolaus stood watching Venin. In fact, he had never taken his eyes off of her.

"I would be most grateful if you would very carefully remove the knife from your belt and toss it away," he told her. He kept the sword on her.

She did as he had told her. She was very careful to make no sudden moves. Something in this man's eyes let her know he meant business.

"You're here to save me. Thank the gods!" she said, faking a sigh of relief.

The hunter still didn't trust this woman. He had no intention of turning his back on her.

"Let's go. They'll be needing us in Acubus." He spoke to his men but he never took his eyes off the girl. "Walk ahead of me," he told her. "Please don't try anything."

"Where are we going? Are you taking me to my father?" There was a pleading sound to her voice, but the hunter remained unmoved. "Please take me to him."

"That's where we're headed. And as long as you're careful you'll make it in one piece. Let's move."

Hercules was ready when the horsemen entered town. He had been ready since dawn. He stayed in concealment. Only his eyes moved as he watched the bandits enter town. They rode boldly up the middle of the quiet little village. He waited until they dismounted and some of the men had scattered. They were going after the goods. That cut down on the men in the street and might buy the demigod some time. It might put the villagers in more danger, but he must trust them to take care of themselves. His main concern was the warlord himself.

He stepped out of the shadows and into the street. He felt his pulse quicken. He knew this feeling. His senses were honed to a focused point. Every detail stood out. He heard the mockingbird in the tree near Granny's. He could smell Tassis tea being brewed somewhere. He felt an excitement. He understood this. What he was about to do brought him no fear.

"Demos!" he shouted.

The warlord jerked around to find the source of the yell. He was surprised by the size of the man that stood before him. He wasn't one of the villagers, surely.

"Call off your men, Demos."

"Who in Hades are you?"

"You're through here, Demos. By now we have the girl. Your reign of terror is finished. Lay down your weapons and call off your men."

Damn! the warlord thought. I should have listened to my premonition. Well, it's too late for that now. He drew his sword.

"Demos," hissed Pollux from behind the warlord. "Don't. That's Hercules."

The warlord's eyes narrowed. "So, you're the mighty Hercules. I always wondered if we would meet." He screwed up his nose. "You don't look so tough to me."

"Demos, you damn fool," Pollux hissed.

Hercules' eyes deliberately swept over the warlord. Contempt was plainly written on his face. "Perhaps you'd like to find out just how tough I am."

The look of contempt the big man had given Demos had infuriated him. "Perhaps I would."

A man entered a cottage to get the goods he knew were there. Where's the stuff?" he demanded of an old woman.

She pointed. "There, on the table."

The man stepped forward to take up the basket of toys he found there.

The old woman's husband silently stepped out of an alcove and brought a heavy club down on the man's head. There was a loud crack and the man fell to the floor.

"That will teach you to steal my toys," the old man sneered.

With the warlord, were Pollux and six others. Demos took a step toward the demigod. Barnabus, Hector, Calla and two others stepped out of concealment to join the half man, half god.

A man started to enter the root cellar of a cottage. He had found a wealth of goods here the last time they raided the village. He found himself at the bottom of the stairs. He was held there at sword point.

"I think I'll just kill you first," Demos sneered. "And when I have, I'll burn this town down around your dead ears."

Pollux, standing a little behind the warlord, swore again. You're going to be the death of me yet, he thought of Demos. He drew his sword. He took a quick look to the left and the right. He wanted out of this. It seemed to him the chips were stacked in the villagers' favor. There was no profit in getting your throat cut.

Demos took another step toward Hercules.

"Why don't you get to killing then and stop talking?" The challenge was clear.

The warlord lunged. His men followed. All that is, except Pollux. He simply faded to the back and ducked behind a barn. He stood a moment, his back pressed tightly against the wood of the barn wall. His breath came in quick puffs. Then he ran. He didn't think of it as cowardice. He was simply getting out of a no-win situation.

Hercules blocked the warlord's sword, and bringing his knee up he tried to break the man's arm over the knee. But the bandit leader was too smart for that. The warlord's sword swung wide and the demigod jumped back.

One of the men in a cottage, hearing the noise, ran to join the fight. Granny threw a rake at his feet. The man tripped and fell hard. The old one brought the club she carried down on the man's head. He tried to rise and the club hit him again.

A man by the well was bringing his bow to target on Hercules. Granny threw her club, hitting the man in the chest. He lost his hold on the bow and fumbled for a moment. When he looked to see who had thrown the projectile, no one was there. One of the villagers landed a punch in his face, and a knee lower down.

The half god grabbed the wrist of the warlord's sword arm. With a quick jerk he threw the man over his back. One man was down. Calla had used her sword to advantage. The half man knew a moment of triumph. Then from the corner of his eye, he saw that Hector was also down. Now a feeling of dismay took the place of the feeling of mastery.

Demos lunged at him again. Hercules threw a sideways kick at the man. He felt a satisfaction at the grunt from the warlord. Looking up to determine how the villagers were doing, he saw the hunter. He gave a silent prayer of thanks that Iolaus was safe and also that he was here.

The warlord could have saved one of his men from Barnabus' club. But he didn't. Hercules clashed swords with another man. Then another one was there and the demigod had to fend them both off. Demos saw his chance. This whole thing stinks, he thought. Hercules is as good in a fight as they say. The warlord slipped away while Hercules was occupied, knocking down a villager that got in his way.

Iolaus took on one of the men that was engaged with the half god.

"Where's Venin?" Hercules shouted at his friend.

"Granny's got her."

The hunter's sword slashed the man's middle.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. The bandits scattered and ran, at least those still capable of it. The only villager seriously hurt was Hector. Calla knelt by him now, trying to stop the flow of blood. Tears stained her face and she shook with reaction. Barnabus gently moved her aside and took over.

"Quit trying to get all the girl's attention, Hector," the blacksmith joked. "I've got a cut or two that needs tending, you know."

The fallen man managed a wan smile. He was pale and his face was bathed in perspiration.

"We need to get him inside," Calla told the blacksmith. "Can we take him to my place? Granny knows a lot about wounds."

Very gently, Barnabus picked up the young man and carried him toward the cottage.

Some of the other villagers were tying up the antagonists.

Hercules had gone after Demos, but he returned now. At the questioning look in the hunter's eyes the demigod shook his head.

"I couldn't find the weasel. He found a horse and was long gone before I could take after him."

"To judge by the number here I'd say that Demos and six others got away."

"No, you miscounted." A villager was escorting a man to the group that was holding the bandits. There was a sword held at the man's back and he was limping.

Hercules raised his eyebrows at the little man that wore such an earnest look of satisfaction on his careworn face.

The villager shrugged. "He slipped and fell down the cellar steps."

Hercules grinned at the villager and nodded.

The blacksmith rejoined them.

"How's Hector?" Hercules asked.

The man from Acubus let his breath out in a long sigh. "I don't know a lot about such things. But it looks bad to me." He looked about him. "What are we going to do with this lot?" He motioned with his head to indicate the outlaws that now sat tied to the post of the livery fence.

"We'll deliver them to Corinth, and let the authorities decide their fate."

Barnabus shrugged. "Seems a waste of time to me, but I guess there's nothing else we can do. I'll dig a couple of graves for those two." He jerked a finger at two tarp covered mounds laying against the side of the livery barn. "I'll bury 'em. But somebody else will have to speak over 'em. I won't."

Hercules put his hand on the man's back. "Thanks, Barnabus. You did well, my friend."

The young man nodded. His face wore a grave look. Hector was his friend. His mind was there in the cottage with the women as they fought to stop the bleeding and save the young man's life.

Barnabus moved to the livery to take up a shovel and headed toward the low hill behind the village. He would dig the graves where all the people of Acubus were laid to rest. But he would put these two men far away from the good people interred here. The shovel bit deep into the grassy soil. I hope I won't have to be doing this again soon. He sent a prayer to the gods of Olympus for his friend.

Jug joined Hercules and Iolaus. "How's Hector?"

Iolaus shook his head. "Not good."

The young man nodded. "Still, I guess we were lucky. No one else was really hurt. There are some minor cuts and bruises here and there, but nothing serious."

"Where's Venin?" Hercules asked.

"She's with her dad. Giles is watching them."

"Jug, I want you to gather some of the men," Hercules instructed him. "Demos and several others got away. I want some guards posted around the village. We need someone to watch this lot, and I want someone to watch Venin until we find out just where she stands."

"You think there will be more trouble?"

"I don't know, but I think we should be ready just in case."

The young man nodded. "Thanks to you and Iolaus, even if Demos and his men return we can be ready."

There were congratulations and thanks for the demigod and the hunter. Jug's young wife brought them a cup of tea and a thick sandwich of cold mutton. Shyly, she thanked them.

Iolaus faded to the background. He was tired. There had been little sleep last night. He was glad that things had gone in their favor. He felt a heaviness in his heart at the injury to Hector. What the hunter needed was Sira.

He found a quiet place where he would be left undisturbed. Sitting on the grass with his back against a tree, he closed his eyes and stilled his mind. He wanted to let the healer know that the worst was over. Like Hercules, he wasn't convinced that they had seen the last of the warlord. Still, he hoped he was wrong. He stilled these doubts. He didn't want them communicated to the healer.

The empath was in the garden at Alcmene's. She knelt on the grass, cleaning weeds from around the base of a patch of Crocus. When she felt her husband's mind touch she rocked back on her heels. She shut her eyes and quickly brought her mind to an open state. She felt her husband's fatigue and his concern for one of the villagers. She sensed that the fight was over and that he and Hercules were well. The relief that swept over her rocked her and she put a hand out to steady herself. She sent love and strength to the hunter. She let her feelings wash over his mind. She helped him to guide her mind to Hector. She wasn't sure how much help she could be over the miles, but she would try. She felt her husband's gratitude. She felt his longing for her, and her own longing almost overwhelmed her.

Their communication was long. She realized that Iolaus was almost asleep. She stilled her mind and sent comfort to him, lulling him to sleep with gentle waves of love and comfort. When his mind released hers in his sleep, tears filled the girl's eyes. I wish I were there to hold him, she thought. He needs me. And I need him.

She rose and went looking for Alcmene. She found the older woman in her kitchen. Alcmene took one look at the empath and knew something had happened. She went pale, expecting the worst.

Sira took the other woman's hands in hers. "They are all right, Alcmene. It is over, and the men are well."

"Thank the gods, Sira." The older woman tightened her grip on the hands that held hers. "You looked so grave, I feared the worst."

"I am sorry. It is just so hard, being separated from him. Then also, one of the villagers was wounded. Part of my mind is for him now."

"Can you really do a healing from so far away?"

"Sometimes, yes. It will depend a lot on the one being healed. If his mind is strong, perhaps I can help. I promised Iolaus I would try." Sira smiled at her friend. "Can I impose on you to keep and eye on Hercus. I need to concentrate, and he can be quite a distraction."

Alcmene smiled at the girl. "Of course I'll watch him. Maybe later we'll go over and see Winnie. You do what you have to and don't worry about us."

Sira smiled her thanks. The healer went to her room. She sat on the bed cross-legged, and closing her eyes she willed her mind to seek out the young man. She had gotten a feeling for him from her husband's mind. But now she sought to touch the mind of the wounded one himself. At first she seemed unable to reach him. Then slowly, as she relaxed and opened her mind, letting barriers and walls collapse to bring her energy to a central place, she sensed Hector. He was only semiconscious. The healer let his mind get used to the feel of hers. She took her time. She didn't wish to frighten him into closing his mind away. It took an extreme effort for her to maintain the mind's link.

She anchored herself and called upon the earth to give her strength. She left her room, and walking in a trance, she let herself out of the house. Alcmene watched the girl closely. Quietly she followed her outdoors. Sira found a place in the shade and sat on the ground. She closed her eyes again and brought the blue light to her. She felt better here with her bare feet caressing the grass.

The girl swayed and chanted. The grass wound itself about her feet. A small bush beside her leaned toward the girl. Alcmene stood in awe. How were these things possible? A glow of blue light surrounded the empath. The mother of Hercules could feel the energy in the air. A feeling of peace came over her. She smiled in wonder that anything so wondrous was possible. And she began to realize just how unique and special this young woman was. She sent a prayer to the gods for the young man that was injured. She had no idea how to pray to the earth, but a prayer went to Demeter all the same. It can't hurt, she reasoned in her mind.

Hercus came bounding up to her. "What is Mommy doing?" he asked.

"She's doing a long distance healing and we need to help her."

"Can we do a healing too?" There was excitement in the child's voice.

"In a way. We can pray and we can try to let our minds help your mother." Alcmene tussled the boy's hair. "But what will really help is if we don't disturb her. Can you be a big helper and let Mommy concentrate?"

Hercus nodded. Then he sat on the ground well away from the healer. He held up his hand for Alcmene to join him. With a smile, she did. Hercus took her hands, and closing his eyes he began to sway and to chant. With a shock the older woman felt the child touch her mind.

Good god's on Olympus! He's a telepath also, she thought. She had been shocked by the realization. But she realized she shouldn't have been. Not considering who his mother was.

The grass at the boy's feet bent to touch him. It caressed the brown spots so like his mother's. The mother of Hercules shook her head in wonder and amazement.

Sira sensed her son's mind and brought it to her. She smiled. He was strong of mind. She let him help her. She also felt the lighter touch of Alcmene's mind. She felt the other woman's awe and wonder. With a light touch she brought the other woman's mind into the healing. Alcmene drew in a quick breath. The energy she felt surge around her was almost painful in its intensity.

Hercus tired soon and his mother let him know it was all right to release the mind's link. She sent her thanks to him and her love. Alcmene opened her eyes and watched the grass release them both. She hadn't even realized that she had closed her eyes or that the grass had accepted her. She felt elated at the realization. Taking the boy's hand she led him toward the house.

"I'm hungry," he stated.

Alcmene laughed. "Me too. Let's raid the kitchen, shall we?"

"Yeah," was the boy's reply.

Hercules found Iolaus where he slept, his head against the tree trunk. The big man smiled, and turned to leave. He didn't wish to wake his friend.

"Wait, Hercules," Iolaus called. The hunter rose to his feet. He covered his mouth as he yawned. "Sorry I fell asleep."

Hercules chuckled. "Don't be. You earned it. I'm sorry I woke you."

"I sat down there to try and let Sira know we were all right." He yawned again. "I guess I just fell asleep. She eased my mind and... Well..."

"It's all right, my friend. As I said, you earned it."

There was a pause. Hercules was still somewhat uncomfortable with the use of the mind despite having been around the empath so much. She had promised not to invade his thoughts, and she had kept that promise. The demigod knew that Iolaus and Sira communicated with each other with their minds but he did his best to not think about it. It made him feel uneasy. It wasn't that he thought it was wrong, or that he believed it was dangerous. But he kept such a close watch on his feelings about the loss of his family, and had tried so hard for so long to lock these feelings safely away that he was afraid of letting anyone get too close to those thoughts. And the healer had done just that. Not because she had meant to. She had never deliberately invaded his innermost thoughts. But in the healing of the hunter he had had to let some of the barriers down. He had almost gone too far. He simply wasn't ready to embrace these feelings, and he wasn't ready to let anyone else have access to them either. But he wanted to know if his mother would now know that he was all right. He knew how much she worried about him.

"Did you get through to Sira?" he asked.

"Yeah. And she's going to try and help Hector."

"Can she do that? I mean from so far away?"

Iolaus shrugged. "She seems to feel it's possible. I've seen her do some wondrous things. I sure in Hades am not going to say she can't."

Hercules nodded. He had to admit that if anyone could do such a thing, it would be this yosemin empath that his friend had taken for a wife.

The hunter yawned again. "Did you need me for something?"

"I thought you'd like to be there when I talked to Venin."

"Boy, would I? You should have seen her, Herc. She had one heck of a knife and she was ready to use it on Demos. He wasn't as much of a fool as I thought. He backed down. She would have filleted him."

Hercules looked sideways at his friend.

"I'm telling you, she's one nasty lady. She was no more a prisoner than I am right now. I don't believe any of that 'poor kidnapped victim' bilge."

The big man nodded. He trusted the hunter's judgment. They had been through too much together to start doubting him now.

The interview with Venin didn't go well. The hunter didn't believe a damned word she said. Oh, she had played the part well. But if she's an innocent victim, I'm a hydra, the hunter had thought.

Her story was that Demos had kidnapped her from her village and she had inadvertently let it be known that her father was living here in Acubus. She insisted that it had been his idea to use her against her father. She said she had tried to convince the warlord that her father wouldn't care what happened to her. She had truly believed that. But then he had cared. In some ways it had made it harder for her, she told them. After seeing her mother brutally murdered she had lost interest in living herself. She had shed tears and held her father's hand.

"Demos has been so brutal to me. I was no good to anyone anymore. So I just didn't care. Then I found that my father still loved me." She had smiled at the farmer. "Even knowing what that brute has done to me, he cares. It's been the only thing that has kept me going all these months."

She said she had been forced to pretend to be a part of the group and that she had had to pretend to care for Demos to save her life and to keep the other men from abusing her. They had kept her tied most of the time. She had tried to get away once. She said she couldn't talk about what the warlord had done to her. But it was this that had made her decide to pretend that he had broken her and that she was now a part of the gang. She lived from moment to moment, waiting for her father to help her. She had never lost hope that he would do just that.

She hugged her father and cried. She hugged Hercules and begged him to understand. She had thanked him and then tried to get close enough to Iolaus to hug him. But he had stubbornly stayed in his chair and refused her the chance.

The hunter didn't believe this woman, but he was afraid that Hercules might. He had stayed as long as he could stand the tears and hysterics. Then he left the farm. He was concerned. If the others believed this woman, nothing would be done to bring her to justice. As far as he was concerned, she deserved the full extent of the law.

He sought out the demigod. He found him sitting on a fallen log at the edge of the village. He made enough noise to make his presence known before approaching Hercules. He joined the half man, half god on the log.

The demigod shot him a look from the corner of his eye.

"I didn't startle you, did I?" the hunter asked.

"No, I heard you coming." the half man grinned. "Everyone within a mile did."

Iolaus grinned back. "I wanted you to hear me. I have better sense than to sneak up on you."

"Beautiful sunset," Hercules commented.

The hunter took a moment to look about him. Then he nodded.

Hercules settled himself more comfortably on the log. "Since I've been around Sira, I notice these things more. It's amazing how she finds beauty in everything."

Iolaus nodded. "Once she even pointed out the beauty in a burned over forest. To me it was ugly. I always feel a loss when I come across a burned area. But Sira made me stop and look at it again. She pointed out the new grass shoots and the tiny flowers growing there. She pointed out where a woodpecker had made a home in one of the dead trees. There were insects and squirrels. She says it's the way nature renews itself. No matter how bad the burn, new growth springs up within a few weeks. It's pretty wonderful."

This time the demigod nodded. The two friends sat in silence for a few moments. The light had faded before their eyes and the first stars had appeared. The hunter squirmed. He wasn't sure how to voice what was on his mind.

"You're troubled, my friend." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I am. I just don't believe Venin. I had a chance to watch her in that camp."

"Well, she seems to have a logical answer to everything."

"I know. It's not what was said. It's more her actions in the camp. She would have gutted Demos. If he had tried to hit her she would have shoved that knife to the hilt in his belly. I was close enough to hear most of what was said. And I could see her eyes. There was a willingness to kill in those eyes. Demos was cool. He handled it well. But he saw it. He believed she was serious and so did I." The hunter changed his position on the log. "If she's that cold blooded, she would have killed Demos in his sleep and been gone."

Hercules sighed.

"She knew what she was doing, Herc. She was more than versed in the use of that knife. Then there is still the question of who thought up this whole thing. I know damn well Demos didn't. He may be one heck of a fighting man, but he's no thinker. This whole thing is out of his league. If you ask me, I say Venin is behind it. She has a head on her shoulders. She's a cool thinker."

There was silence for a moment. "Well Iolaus, for what it's worth, I don't believe her either."

Iolaus looked at his friend. "So now what?"

Hercules shook his head. "I don't know, my friend. I hate to turn a woman like that loose on an unsuspecting village. But the bottom line is, we have nothing on her. There's no proof that she's lying. We have no reason to disbelieve her, other than what you saw and our own judgment. Nothing that the authorities would listen to."

Iolaus said nothing. He knew his friend was right.

"I wonder if we've seen the last of Demos," Hercules thought out loud.

"I've been wondering about that myself. He has a couple of good reasons to return."

Hercules ran a finger lightly across the back of his hand. There was a small cut there and it itched more than hurt. "Especially if he and Venin are lovers."

"You're thinking that he'll gather a few men and give you and me a chance to pull out, then strike again?"

"You've been around Sira too much," the big man grinned at him. "You read my mind."

"So do we go after him, or wait for him to come to us?"

"I've been thinking about that also. We might have trouble finding him, and while we're looking he could come back here. So I think I'll just hang around here for a bit. Maybe keep working with the men. They've shaped up well. It won't take much to have them ready to be on their own. I can't stay here forever. But when I do leave, I want to know that these people have at least a fighting chance. Then if Demos still hasn't shown up, I may just see about looking him up. We have some unfinished business." The demigod stretched his legs out before him. "But somehow I think he'll come to me."

"Yeah," the hunter nodded. "I guess that's the best we can do."

Hercules chuckled. "What's this 'we' stuff? You need to get back to your family. You've already been gone longer than you planned. You'll be late getting your crops in and you'll go through another tough winter." The big man patted his friend on the back. "I can handle things here."

The hunter said nothing for a moment. He knew what Hercules had said was right. But he hesitated to leave here. It just didn't feel finished. It was like a feeling of waiting for the other boot to fall.

"I know you're right, and I do want to get back to Sira and Hercus. But I hate to leave yet. My hunter's instinct tells me there's going to be more trouble."

"Well, I don't need hunter's instinct to tell me that you're right. But you have other obligations. I don't want my nephew forgetting who his father is."

The hunter sighed. "Sometimes it feels like I've been away forever."

"All the more reason to get yourself back there."

"Well, I won't leave for a few days anyway. I want to see how Hector gets on."

The big man nodded. He liked the young man that lay so ill in the old woman's bed. "Granny will pull him through." What he didn't say out loud, but added in his mind was, "I hope."

"Who's going to Corinth to deliver the outlaws?"

"Giles, Jug and two others. It leaves the village shorthanded, but there's always the chance that Demos will attack them to try and free his men. I want some of the better fighting men with the wagon of prisoners."

"All the more reason to stick around. The village may well need you with them gone."

The demigod nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."

Hercules was restless. He hated to think of Iolaus leaving. It had been good to be with him again. It was a comfort to know the hunter was there to watch his back. But he knew his friend needed to get back. Still, knowing that did little to relieve the slight depression he felt. Some of the gloominess came from his concern for Hector. The young man was one of his favorites here in Acubus. The big man sighed. He had made friends here. He cared what happened to these people. They had welcomed him and the hunter with friendliness. They had opened their homes and hearts to them. Good people like this shouldn't have to live in fear for their homes and their families. And people like Hector shouldn't have to be fighting for their lives with a sword slash across their middle. The old hatred of tyrants was strong in him tonight. He hated injustice. The frown on his face deepened. With a squaring of his shoulders he headed for Granny's. He wanted to check on Hector.

He found Calla and Barnabus still sitting with the fallen man. "Any change, Granny?"

"He seems a little better. He'll make it. I refuse to have it otherwise." She grinned. "Those two will take good care of him. He'll be long in recovering, but he will."

"Thanks for keeping that bowman off my back."

"Saw that, did you?"

"Yeah, and I saw you take out that other guy."

"Should've had him with one swing. Don't seem to have as much strength as I used to."

"Well, if I decide to retire from the hero business, I know who can take my place."

She sniffed. "Not this old woman."

He laughed at her. "I forgot. The rumor is you're ailing."

"That's a durned lie. I'm old is all. But I'm not sick." Then she winked at him. "Still, if people think I am I get lots of attention."

He chuckled with her. "If I were a little older, I'd marry you."

"If I were a little younger, I'd take you up on that." With a motion toward the sick room and a smile, she stated, "I predict a wedding in the near future anyway. Barnabus doesn't know it yet. Men are always the last to catch on. We women have to kind of talk them into it. You know, make them think it was their idea.

Hercules laughed. "Calla is a wonderful girl. Barnabus is lucky."

"She'll need a strong hand. She's had her own way too long. She'll give him some trouble. But then a good fight cleanses the soul, and the making up is the best part.

"You know, I just may have to marry you after all. You're my kind of woman."

She shoved him. "Can't marry you. Can't afford to feed you. Now get along and get some rest. You look dead on your feet."

He gave her a quick salute with a forefinger. "Sleep well, Granny."

The mother of Hercules and the wife of Iolaus sat in the chairs in the older woman's garden. It was a sunny day, warm but not too warm. The sky was an impossible pale blue with wispy white clouds across its face. Both women had been working in the garden. Sira had gathered soil, rich in nutrients from the woods and put it around the base of some of the low growing bushes. She had said the earth's prayer before disturbing the soil. As she worked she hummed a little tune. It was peaceful and quiet.

She had slept well after the long distance healing of the man in Acubus. Sira kept a part of her mind for him. She would do another healing soon. But for now it was pleasant to sit here in the sun. The women had worked together to improve the garden. It was work they both loved. As they worked they didn't talk. They had grown so comfortable with each other that words were no longer necessary.

The quiet of the scene was interrupted by boy and cat.

"Look what Kitty found, Alcmene." He showed her a small brown lizard.

Sira could sense that the older woman wasn't comfortable with the little reptile being thrust in her face. But she hid it well.

"He's very pretty, Hercus. What are you going to do with him?"

"Let him go. I just wanted you to see him."

The boy placed his hand close to the ground and opened his palm. The little lizard sat on his hand, his little sides moving in and out in rapid breaths.

"Go ahead, little guy," Hercus coaxed. "You will be safe in Alcmene's garden."

As if understanding the boy's words, the lizard scurried away to disappear under the bushes.

Hercus turned to Alcmene. "When are we going to Winnie's to pick apples?"

She chuckled. "Run get the baskets and we'll go in a few minutes."

The boy bounded away, Kitty at his heals.

"He never stops," Alcmene commented. She shook her head. "The lizard is safe in the garden. But what's to keep me safe from it.?"

Sira laughed. "You are very good with him."

"Well, he is special. I can't help but think of him as my grandson. Iolaus was always like my own son." She turned to smile at the healer. "Then his insistence that the child be born here. It meant a lot to me. I hope it's all right if I pretend a little and consider him a part of me."

Sira took her hand. "It is not pretending. He is a part of you. The soul's touch is stronger than blood. I am glad you have these feelings for both my son and my husband." Reading the woman's thoughts she whispered. "You miss them very much, do you not?"

Knowing her thoughts had been read, "Yes, very much. Deianeira was a very special person. And the children." She shrugged. "But having Winnie around helps. And now there is Hercus." Alcmene stood up and Sira joined her. The older woman linked her arm through that of the yosemin. "Iphicles and Reyna will have children, no doubt. You and Iolaus will have more. Perhaps Hercules will marry again. Before you know it, I'll be rolling in grandchildren.

"And you will love every minute of it," Sira chuckled.

Alcmene grinned at her. "Yes, every minute."

Hercus came bounding up with the baskets. "Are you coming with us, Mommy?"

"Not this time. I want to do another healing." She bent and gave her son a hug. "Will you pick a nice juicy apple for me?"

He nodded. "The biggest and the juiciest."

It was true, the empath did want to do a healing on Hector. But she also wanted some quiet time to herself. After her conversation with Alcmene she was feeling very sentimental. She found a place on the grass to sit. She let her mind relax and open. She said the earth's prayer and sent along a prayer for Iolaus and Hercules. She let her mind drift where it would.

She held the withered and dried bones of the hand in hers. She watched as her beloved husband and their friend Hercules dug the grave. No, not a fiery end for a yosemin. Rather, they returned their dead to the soil from which it came. The spirit was long since gone. It soared the heights in an eagle's heart, or stalked the forest with the wolves. Perhaps it was encased in a tiny stem of one of the new trees that had sprung up around the village. It was not given for the yosemin to know which form their spirit would take. Mother earth alone knew.

"She is gone now, Grandmother." The empath spoke to the bones even though she knew they couldn't hear. "The old sorceress is gone. You no longer need to fear her."

The tears rolled freely down the girl's cheeks. Coming here had been hard for her. But she had wanted to do it After Hercules, Iolaus, and the old yosemin, Thysis, had helped her to destroy the sorceress that had sworn vengeance on the entire yosemin race, she had been weary. She had wanted only rest and quiet. So she and her soulmate, the hunter, had sought a home in the forest. That home was almost complete. She had come here now to bury the dead. But also to gather around her, some of her things. There were tools here she was familiar with. Things to make life in the forest easier. But the trip here had also been for another reason. It was a way of finally accepting what had happened here. A way to finally let go and go on.

The empath sat on the ground, her back against a tree. All the people of her village whose bodies were left had now been buried, save the grandmother's.

It had been over a year since the sorceress had poisoned the earth's people of Sira's village with sickness and evil. A year since Sira, sick herself, had fled her home. The sorceress had wreaked her vengeance on the source of her anger and hate when she had killed the grandmother. But she hadn't been satisfied with that. The grandmother had stolen her lover. Then she had fought the sorceress to keep him. The sorceress, weakened, had fled into hiding. There she grew in strength and evil. Her hate consumed and twisted her. Her vengeance had been replaced with a lust to kill all things yosemin. When the killing of the grandmother had not satisfied her obsession, she swore to kill and keep on killing until the granddaughter that had escaped her was found and destroyed. But Sira and Thysis had known it wouldn't stop there. So Sira had battled the evil and won.

Many of the bodies were gone or no longer whole. I should have returned sooner, she thought. But coming here was not an easy thing. To relive the sorrow and pain of that time was hard for her. At one time, in her flight she had sworn she would never return.

But the pain had mellowed, as grief will do. The memories were bittersweet, tied up with so many happy years here as she grew up and trained in the ways of the healer. She pretended that she could still hear the laughter of her people. She closed her eyes and remembered the sounds and the smells. The wood smoke on a cold morning, the bird's song sung over the huts as the people of the earth worked and lived and loved.

The empath wished she could have helped with the digging of the graves. It was an honor to the dead to do so. But she was heavy with child. Her time was near and she felt heavy and awkward. She had heaved a couple of shovels full of dirt aside in what was to be her grandmother's grave. But she was so quickly out of breath, Iolaus had insisted that she rest. He hadn't wanted to come here now. He had no objection to coming, just to the timing. He wanted the baby born at Alcmene's. He wanted another woman to attend. The healer felt his concern and apprehension at the coming birth. But she didn't really understand it. Babies were born all the time. But she had agreed to his wishes to try and help ease his distress.

As her time had grown near she had been plagued by the need to take care of her people. She reasoned that travel after the baby was born would be hard and therefore, much delayed. She had begged her husband to bring her here. He had reluctantly agreed. He could feel how important it was to her.

The baby kicked painfully at her side. He was as ready to leave his mother's womb as she was ready to have him leave. Her back ached and her brown spotted feet were swollen. Tomorrow, they would start their journey to return to the cabin they were building in the forest not too far from here. But it would only be for a few days. Then they would make the journey to the home of Hercules' mother and stepfather.

Sira carefully wrapped her grandmother's body in a blanket made of woven moss and prepared her for the return to the earth. When Hercules and Iolaus came to get the grandmother, the healer couldn't rise. The demigod picked her up and set her on her feet. She leaned heavily on Iolaus. Hercules carried the remains of the healer's grandmother to her grave and gently laid the bundle in the opening.

As the men began to cover the grave with soil Sira gave the yosemin prayer of death.

"To the east, mother soil, protect her body. To the west, water mother, protect her thoughts. To the south, mother of trees, guide her forth. To the north, mother earth, protect her soul."

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She picked up a handful of the freshly turned soil and scattered it over the blanket wrapped remains. When she stood, a sharp pain stabbed her side. It lasted only a moment before it passed. She remained near the grave until the last shovel of dirt was replaced. Then Iolaus helped her to her feet. He took her in his arms and held her.

"Thank you for bringing me," she whispered. "This is something I had to do."

"I know, my love."

That night the healer felt tired and ill. But she said nothing. There was no need to alarm anyone. She ate little and took to her bed early. Her head had started to throb. She knew the journey tomorrow would not be an easy one.

The morning dawned clear. The air was pure and sweet. She enjoyed the cool air on her skin. Now that the task she had come here to perform was completed, she felt a reluctance to leave. There was a peace here, as if the spirits of her people watched over her. It would be pleasant to stay. Having her baby here in her old home held no fear for her. She had placed herself and the baby in the hands of the earth mother. What would be, she could not change. But she knew her husband would never agree to this. He loved her so much that the thought that she might be in danger was more than he could bear. He had reason to fear the coming birth. His favorite aunt had died in childbirth. If he felt more comfortable knowing that Alcmene was there to help, then so be it.

She sat in the cart, her back propped against a pillow. She had felt the pain in her side again shortly after rising. It had lasted a little longer this time. The trip was hard for her. Her feet and hands were painfully swollen. Her headache had returned. By midday she was miserable. When one of the pretty pots she had taken from her former home had broken, she cried.

Iolaus held her and comforted her. "I'm sorry Sira, I know you're miserable. We'll stop soon, and tomorrow we'll be home."

"But not to stay. You want me to go through all this again to get to Alcmene's," she accused. She knew she was being unfair. It wasn't his fault she felt so dreadful.

"I know, but we'll rest first. You'll feel better when you can bathe and sleep in your own bed."

She nodded. Be strong, she told herself.

She wasn't hungry at dinner but she did choke down a few bites to make Iolaus happy. That night her back hurt so badly that Hercules offered to do a healing on her. While he was not an empath, he was strong of mind. A great deal of healing could be done without a transfer. With her trained mind guiding him she knew it would help. She hadn't forgotten he was uncomfortable with the mind's touch, and that to do the healing would mean their minds must come together as one. She said as much.

"I understand. But if you think I can help, then I want to. I hate seeing you so uncomfortable."

She had been touched by his offer and had accepted. And the healing did help. She slept well the first part of the night, but towards morning she woke with a severe pain in her side. The intensity of the pain faded to become a dull ache in her side and back. She said nothing. But before they had gone far on their journey, Iolaus knew she was in pain.

"Is the baby on the way?"

She could feel the worry in his statement.

She shook her head. "Not yet, but perhaps soon."

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Sira. I'll try and get you home."

She took his hand. "Do not worry, my love. I sense nothing wrong. He is a big baby and I am a small woman." She smiled at him. "But as long as I have you, I will be fine."

They did make it home. When Sira could rest, her pain went away. She rested at home for three days. During that three days, Iolaus worried. He paced the floor. He wasn't eating well and he kept shooting her guilty looks.

On the evening of the third day she announced that she was now rested enough to make the journey to Alcmene's.

And now the hunter objected. "But Sira, what if you go into labor on the trail?" I think I should go for Alcmene and bring her here."

"I will be fine. And you are not leaving me. I could not bear that. If I go into labor then the baby will be born on the trail."

As if not hearing her, he continued, "I can't send Hercules. You may need him to heal you through the delivery. He's stronger of mind than I am. He could help ease your pain."

"So we will travel to Alcmene's farm together. I will be fine, my love," she assured him.

They were still a good day and a half journey from the farm when Sira's pains began. The pain was much the same as before, but now it came in continuous waves of discomfort.

Hercules pushed them on. Every mile closer they got to their destination, the better he felt.

Sira, uncomplaining, rode the cart. It bumped and jarred her and brought her even more pain, but she said nothing. When the pains would come she would hold onto the side of the cart and wait it out. She prayed to mother earth. She had been drinking a special tea that was reputed to make childbirth easier. Iolaus hoped it would work.

By the time they reached Alcmene's the healer was exhausted. She had been in pain for nearly twenty four hours. The last two hours had been the worst. Alcmene got her to bed and shooed Hercules out. He had carried the healer to her bed and stood beside her, holding her hand as a wave of pain gripped her. Alcmene told Iolaus to leave also. But Sira insisted he be present.

"This is not for men, Sira," the older woman had insisted.

"Why? Why should it not be? They are there to help make the baby. Let them experience the birth of the child as well."

Iolaus held the girl's hand. He wiped the perspiration from her flushed face. He gave her sips of water.

Time lost all meaning. There was just the pain and dread of the next spasm. Through the pain Sira sensed that the baby was beginning to wane. He had been pushed against the small space allowed him in such a small woman for too long. But she was too weak now to help him or herself.

"Iolaus, get Hercules. I need help. I am so tired. I cannot do this anymore. Hurry.

But Iolaus had no need to search out the demigod.

"I'm here, Sira." The big man knelt beside her and took her other hand. "What would you have me do?"

"Heal me as best you can. I can gain strength from you. Please forgive me but I will give you some of the pain. Not all, but some. It will make it easier for me to push the baby out. It has been so long now, I fear for him." Her breath was taken away as another pain gripped her.

"It's all right, Sira. I'll help."

Sira turned her face to the hunter. He was almost as tired as she was. Not from physical effort, but from the mental effort of watching her go through the hours of pain.

"Will you help also?"

He brought his face close to her and planted a kiss on her puffy lips. She had bitten them so many times in her pain that they were swollen and swore. "I would gladly take all the pain from you. Let's do it now. Whatever it takes, let's do it."

She stilled her mind and touched the minds of the others. She took strength from them. She led their minds to her and allowed some of her pain to go to them. As she tapped their strength she was able to push with the pains and help urge the baby from her. And before much longer Hercus was born. Sira had known she carried a boy. Her sensitive mind had told her that long ago. He was a large baby, and despite his delayed birth, a healthy one. The healer had loved him since the moment she had known that the seed planted inside her would grow. Knowing it would be a son had strengthened the love. But even she was unprepared for the feeling that overwhelmed her at her first glimpse of the tiny red face.

Both Hercules and Iolaus had experienced some of the pain of the birth. They decided it was not for them.

"How does a woman do it?" Iolaus shook his head.

"He's a large baby. I don't know how so small a woman could deliver him," Alcmene commented.

"He certainly was a big baby," Hercules agreed with a moan as he slumped into a chair.

His mother and his best friend laughed at him.

Hercus was a good eater and grew fast. When he was six weeks old Sira and Iolaus decided to return to their home in the forest.