| |
The Beast Within
by Margui
THE BEAST WITHIN
Iolaus wandered through the small village with no real aim as to where he was going. "Small is an understatement," he mused as he looked around. The village consisted of a few modest homes, a small inn, a mercantile and a tavern. "A tavern", he reflected again. He didn't recognize how hungry or thirsty he had become. His aim was suddenly realized as he walked toward the small structure.
It was late in the afternoon and the sun began to intermingle with the tall trees of the thicket just west of the village. The town was bathed in ripples of sunlight.
The tavern was old and dilapidated, and as Iolaus continued to survey the dive, it occurred to him that the structure seemed older than dirt itself. "This place should have been condemned years ago," he thought as he walked toward the aged building.
The consideration for this old building was lost on Iolaus. Its crumbling rock frame seemed ready to give into the wilderness of the massive thicket as it encroached on its outside wall.
Iolaus walked into the dimly lit tavern. He took a moment inside the door to adjust to the absence of light before he proceeded toward the center of the small structure.
The tavern smelled of ale and vomit, sweat and blood. The malodorous combination would have made even the hungriest man almost loose his appetite. He surveyed the room.
Three chairs stood along a narrow bar. A burly bartender was behind the bar, carefully watering down the ale and wine. Above the bar, along the wall was a small plaque. It read, "In Gods We Trust. All Others Pay Dinars".
The blonde warrior chuckled to himself. This homey touch seemed uncharacteristically out of place in this filthy dive.
He looked to his left and noticed three small tables, each surrounded by two or three chairs. The first two tables were occupied by several drunks. One group sat in a stupor; their heads resting on the ale soaked table. Iolaus watched as one man turned his head up and poured the ale down his throat barely lifting the cup off the table.
The other group was louder and much more exuberant. He listened as one hunter told of his latest endeavor. The antlers on the stag continued to grow each time the man mentioned his prize. The hunter appeared as if he hadn't had a bath in a month. Dirt and grime formed a heavy barrier on his clothes, the blue cloth was almost unrecognizable. His drinking partner was equally unkempt. His gray beard had the crumbs of what appeared to be several meals embedded in it.
"What can I get for you," the bartender said in a toothless grin bringing Iolaus' attention back to his hunger.
"Got any food?" Iolaus asked hopefully.
"The wife brought in her usual gruel. You're welcome to try some, but I warn you, it requires a cast iron stomach."
"Bring it on, and oh, some ale please," Iolaus said without much enthusiasm. Any food was better than none when your stomach was growling like the Nemean Lion.
Iolaus safely ensconced himself at the table at the far end of the tavern. Hercules had promised to meet him there when he was finished with his business in Thermopylae. He didn't expect his friend for another two or three days, so he had to find a way to occupy his time.
Iolaus was going over his itinerary in his mind. He decided he would start the new day with a fishing trip. He was lost in his thoughts when the bartender walked up with his meal and a mug of ale.
"Do you know a good fishing spot around here?" Iolaus asked the toothless man.
"That'll be three dinars," the bartender said, ignoring the question and almost throwing the meal on the table.
Iolaus reached into his money pouch and pulled out the coins. He spilled them on the flat surface next to his meal.
The bartender scooped them up and walked away.
"Sure are friendly folk around here," Iolaus said to himself. He took a spoonful of the stew, sniffing the concoction before tasting.
"This stew is Fal-awful tasting," Iolaus exclaimed out loud. He dropped his spoon back into the bowl.
Suddenly the door of the tavern flew open, startling most of the patrons. The room filled with the illumination of a bright day and the occupants groaned in response to the sudden change in light.
A young mother, tears streaming down her face stood in the doorway. "The monster's taken my baby! The monster's taken Breccia!" The young woman gasped. She fell to her knees in the doorway. "Somebody please help me." The young mother looked older than her years. Her brown hair was streaked with silver. Her maroon dress fit loosely over her gaunt frame. The hands that soon hid her wrinkled face were bony and callused. She dropped her head into her palms as she continued to sob.
"Didn't we get rid of that thing a couple of years ago?" the dirt encrusted hunter asked. He didn't seem to be the least bit concerned for this woman's plight.
"Naw, we searched. Never found him," his companion said from the table. His lack of concern was equaled to his drinking partner.
"What is with you people?" Iolaus thought as he listened to the banter of the two hunters. "Can't they see how distraught this woman is."
"She's gone, I tell you. The monster took her. Just like the other four," the woman shrieked. She searched the room for someone who would listen.
"Whoa. What's this I hear about a monster?" Iolaus asked as he got up from his chair and approached the distraught mother. He grabbed a chair from the first table and gently helped the shaking woman to the seat.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Most of the men in the village were afraid of the monster, or were only interested in drinking and carousing. This was why it still roamed the thicket and still accosted the children. She looked into Iolaus' kind, blue eyes. He seemed genuinely concerned.
"My name's Iolaus. I'd like to help. What's this about a monster?"
The bartender spoke up, "Well, if you listen to the rantings of my drunk patrons or the ravings of a dozen of hysterical woman in this village, then the thicket is full with them." He then went back to his business of watering down more ale.
Iolaus looked around the room. "Has anyone seen this monster?" he inquired.
"Humph," the grimy drinker said in response. "So a couple of sniveling kids decided to run away from home. I'd go too, if the old woman didn't have me chained here. We haven't actually seen the monster in two years."
"Well, when you did see it, what did it look like?" Iolaus grumbled as he approached the drunken man. He tried to control the anger in his voice. He could not believe the lackadaisical attitude of the men in this village. None seemed to care that their children were disappearing.
The hunter looked up at Iolaus from the table. He tried to focus on what the blonde man was asking. He blinked his bloodshot eyes before responding." All I remember was it was large and mean looking."
"That could describe half of you in here. I need more to go on than that."
"Well, we can't give you more," the drunk slurred as he began pouring ale down his gullet. He continued his story. "No one has ever seen it clearly. It lurks in the darkest part of the thicket where even the sun dares not go. Some say it walks on four legs, some say two. Some say the beast takes the form of a man or a woman, the moment before it devours its prey. All we know it its a demon from Tartarus and it steals our children."
Iolaus looked from man to man. "But no one has actually seen this thing?" he asked. If there was one thing that he had learned from Hercules; it was not to judge a rolled up scroll by its parchment
Another drunk had swaggered up to Iolaus. The man was about the size of Hercules and towered over the smaller man. "Look at you. Are you planning on doing something about the monster?" he asked in a challenge.
Iolaus squared his shoulders. "I've killed a few monsters in my time. But before I start thoughtlessly wielding my sword, I'd kind of like to know what I'm up against. No one has actually seen it?" He question again disbelieving. He was answered by several men shaking their heads.
"I mean this could be a monster of your imagination only. You know how hunters like to exaggerate. And if there is a beast out there, it may or may not be responsible for the loss of your children."
The crowd dismissed Iolaus' contempt and walked back to their respective tables. They were not interested in searching for the errant child. He was angry about the carelessness that this village exhibited. No one wanted to risk their life to find the responsible party, nor did they seem to care if he took the initiative.
Iolaus turned to the woman who had lost her child. Her tears had dried and a look of hope returned to her face. "Where was your child last, before you found her missing?"
The woman grasped Iolaus' strong hands. "May the Gods bless you," she said. When she released his hands, he folded one of hers between his.
His grip was tight and reassuring. "Show me where," he said as he walked the woman out.
The area just west of the tavern was thick with brambles, briers and tough vines, which served as an almost impenetrable doorway to the thicket beyond. He recognized one plant that was nick named, 'the widow's thorn'. It was extremely poisonous and had killed many a man that had an unfortunate encounter with it. A child had no chance of surviving if pricked by its deadly thorns.
The woman directed Iolaus toward a hole in the thicket. Iolaus bent down to get a better look. "How in the world had the little girl managed to squeeze through there?" he thought. "I don't even think a rabbit could pass through there." But then he remembered squeezing through places tighter than that as a boy.
Iolaus pulled his sword from the sheath. Using a crosswise motion, Iolaus cut through the thick vines to gain access to the dark thicket in front of him.
"I'm sure she's just lost," he said, gently trying to reassure the young woman. He patted her hand and then disappeared into the thicket.
Iolaus looked around for signs that would suggest the little girl had indeed traveled into the wilds and had gotten lost. The woods were dark and damp, making any evidence he could find a precious commodity.
He found a few broken branches and followed those toward the center of the thicket. He caught a glimpse of an animal's footprint. He bent down to examine the tracks. The soft soil around the prints suggested they were fairly fresh.
The footprints were unlike any he had ever seen. The tracks belonged to that of a large beast, the footprint similar to a wolf or large cat. It was wider across the center than a wolf's and was vertically longer. The creature was definitely traveling on all fours.
He continued to follow the footprints unabated deeper into the thicket.
The farther in Iolaus went, the darker the wilderness had become. He looked up at the canopy of trees. It was effectively keeping the sun from reaching the thicket's realm., as effectively as thick dark clouds masking the sun during a torrential rain.
Iolaus stopped to observe his surroundings once more before proceeding into the thicket. When he looked behind him he noticed a slow rolling fog was coming in. "Where did this come from?" he thought. He watched it as it moved toward him and began to swirl around his legs.
The fog had efficiently obscured the footprints he was following.
"Great, now what?" he mumbled. The light of the day was descending and it would soon turn into night. Iolaus had to decide whether to continue searching the thicket; forcing him to camp for the night, or return to the company of the town. He mulled it over in his brain.
"Okay Iolaus," he began to think out loud. "You can return to the village for a hot meal and a warm bed and resume the search tomorrow, or you can spend the night here where at any moment a monster might jump out and grab you." Iolaus lifted his right hand and then his left, "Let's see, monster or comfort, comfort or monster? Definitely monster." He decided to continue.
The mournful cry of an animal escaped from the woods and Iolaus quickly turned toward the sound. The animal's howl sounded as if it was injured.
Iolaus pulled out his sword and held it out in front of him. He knew a wounded animal was a dangerous animal. He carefully walked toward the howling.
He saw the flash of an animal out of the corner of his eye. It was large, brown and had quick speed. He turned and walked toward the area where the animal had fled.
The smell of decaying flesh was his new found guide. He followed the putrid smell until he came to the animal's lair.
A smaller animal lay on its side in the lair. Its hide was pierced with a crude arrow that had splintered upon entering the beast. It was apparent that the animal did not die immediately but mustered the strength to come back to its lair. The odor and evidence of decay, suggested that it had been dead for some time.
The beast was not familiar to Iolaus and he had never seen one like it before. It was larger than any wolf he had encountered, almost equaling the size of Cerberus. The long front legs and shorter back legs displayed powerful muscles.
It had an incredibly large chest cavity and course guard hairs that went down the back. The stiff guard hairs stood up on its spine much like a frightened cat and were considerably darker in color. The beast had no spots or stripes, but was a uniform gray-brown. It had a large head and neck. Its mouth revealed massive, sharp canines. Clearly this beast was a carnivore.
Iolaus bent down to examined the paws. They were identical to the footprints he had followed at the edge of the thicket. There was no doubt that this beast was like the one he had been following.
Iolaus looked around the lair. Off to his left he found a cluster of bones. He walked over to them and knelt down. He fumbled through the stack, trying to identify each one. Many were old, cleaned by age and weathered by time. Some were of smaller animals. There were the remains of a couple of rabbits and the hollow bones of a few large birds. One round bone buried under leaves caught his attention.
He sifted through the bones and dug it out of the wet, clump of leaves.
The bone was the skull of a small child. Iolaus looked back at the dead animal. He was glad that someone had killed the beast, but right now he had wished it was him. Tears welled in the eyes of the hunter. He did not relish the idea of telling the village what had happened to at least one of their children and now he suspected that all were a victim of this monster.
Lost in thought, Iolaus was surprised when he heard the snap from a fallen tree limb. He turned around at the sound. His sword was in his hand and was ready to strike. The beast he spied fleeing may have come back.
Instead of seeing the four-legged monster he had expected, he saw a figure dressed in a dark, flowing cloak. When the figure glimpsed Iolaus at the animal's lair, it turned its back and fled.
"Hey, wait," Iolaus cried out. He sheathed his sword and began to follow the cloaked figure.
The caped figure seemed very much in his element in these primordial woodlands. Quick and agile, the apparition was able to traverse the thicket floor, adeptly jumping over downed trees and skirting copses of brambles and vines.
Iolaus, on the other hand, not being familiar with the woodlands seemed to stumble over every root and moss covered hole as he followed the cloaked figure. It didn't help that night was quickly falling on the already darkened woods.
Iolaus was quickly loosing ground in the unfamiliar territory. The cloaked form was slowly disappearing into the fog and into the gloom.
The night was descending rapidly, so the hunter stopped and checked his surroundings for landmarks one last time before he continued pursuing the stranger.
He watched as the hooded figure suddenly seemed to be pulled back into a copse of brambles and widow's thorn. It was almost as if a hand had reached up from the brambles and grabbed the stranger. As he continued to approach the apparition he could see that the cloak was caught on a mass of tangled thorns.
The figure tugged at the covering, trying to free it from the spikes. It would not yield.
"Wait," Iolaus implored as he got closer. He could almost imagine the stranger's panic in response to his approach. The figure pulled on the material in urgency and haste as Iolaus cautiously continued toward the stranger.
Glancing at the pursuer one last time, the stranger gave up and quickly slipped out of the cloak. The conglomeration of vines finally claimed its prize. The figure disappeared into the darkness without the blonde hunter immediately following in pursuit.
The cackle of an animal broke the silence of the woodlands and echoed from behind Iolaus. He quickly drew his sword and swung around. The cackle was followed by a strange maniacal laugh. It was as if the animal was mocking him.
Iolaus was beginning to regret his decision to stay in the thicket. The beast cackled again. It was on the move, and it was approaching the hunter. Iolaus moved back as he surveyed the area around him. The dim light made it impossible for him to see clearly. The darkness in the thicket was mounting too quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, Iolaus made out a movement to the left. He whirled around, his sword out in
front of him.
The beast was as silent in its approach as the fog was earlier in the day. Iolaus' instincts could tell that the animal was moving closer and forcing him back ever so slowly. Looking around to maintain his bearings, he could see another shadowy beast approaching him, this time to his right. Iolaus continued to back up. As he did so, he was edging closer and closer to the copse of brambles and spikes that the stranger had so recently encountered.
The animals seemed to have the intelligence of wickedly skillful hunters. They continued to circle the blonde man, forcing him back toward the mess of thorns. They never veered close enough for Iolaus to strike, but always stayed within the depths of obscurity. One beast cackled again, followed by the maniacal laughter of the other. It was disarming and beginning to drive Iolaus to distraction.
As Iolaus focused on the beast to his immediate left, the other approached from his backside. The beast deliberately put himself between Iolaus and the copse of brambles. Once positioned, he then voiced a menacing growl that forced Iolaus to turn around. The animal quickly fled from the area. and Iolaus watched as the skillful carnivores set the trap.
With the swiftness that could only belong to an animal of the forest, the beast that was Iolaus' focus earlier, was now at his back. The animal jumped onto the hunter, finally forcing him into the mishmash of brambles, vines and widow's thorn.
The weight of the large beast on his back carried Iolaus into the bushes, head first.
As he tumbled down, a large thorn struck the hunter's face, cutting a long, thin line from the top of his forehead to the middle of his cheek. In its trek, the spike tore a ridge across his left eyelid, splitting it open. The poisonous sap of the widow's thorn burned with an intensity Iolaus could not have conceived.
Another thorn pierced his right temple, only millimeters from his right eye.
He heard the thorn snap as it broke the skin and plunged into his unprotected cornea. Iolaus screamed.
He continued to fall into the brambles of thorns, each centimeter bringing him a new sensation of pain as the thorns continued to pierce and claw at his face, chest and arms. It seemed as if his falling was endless, but it did end and he finally rested in a bed of painful thorns.
He could hear the cackling of the creature on his back, recognizing it would probably be the last sound he would hear as the animal bent down for the final assault to his throat. Then Iolaus heard the distinctive whoosh of an arrow across his face. He heard the maniacal laughter gurgle to a stop and felt the full weight of the dead animal as it dropped onto his back, forcing him deeper into the bed of thorns.
The arrow had missed his head by only a small margin, but struck the beast squarely in the chest. He hoped the archer's aim was true and the intended target was indeed the beast hunched on his back.
The other creature could sense the archer's approach from the distance and side-stepped away from the threat. A chilling growl escaped its mouth before it retreated.
Another arrow was released, but the movement of the beast caused the arrow to only graze its mark. The animal cried out in pain and scurried into the fog of the thicket floor.
Iolaus struggled to get up but the weight of the animal held him firm.
He could hear the crunch of the dried leaves as the archer neared. He was able to raise his head just high enough to see his benefactor but Iolaus had to strain to see through his bloodstained eyes. The eye that was punctured by the thorn refused to cooperate. It's vision remained dark. He still had some sight in his left eye, but his eyelid was beginning to swell. He forced his eyelid to open as wide as he could.
Iolaus was unable to recognize any features, but the soft curves of the figure against the muted shades of the surviving light would suggest his benefactor was most definitely a woman. The slight movement of his head caused another thorn to stab into his neck. He winced in pain.
She stood with the long bow still in her hands, the arrow's shaft aimed at Iolaus.
"You know, you might accidentally shoot me with that thing if you keep pointing it in this direction," he said when he noticed he was still a target.
"Listen, I need your help." Iolaus said as he grimaced, "My name is Iolaus."
The denizen of the woodlands remained fixed; her hands steady as she continued her aim on the blonde hunter.
"Oh, I see," Iolaus said seeing her resolve, "then I guess it's a little..." he swallowed hard as a pain stabbed through him, "...premature to thank you for coming to my rescue." In his current predicament, he was defenseless.
Suddenly, Iolaus clutched at his chest and drew his legs toward his torso as raw pain ravaged his chest cavity. The archer recognized the pain. The poison from the widow's thorn was beginning to course through his body. She had hoped the dry autumn would have spared him from the poisonous sap.
The burning in his chest was intense and was threatening to take away his senses. The pain was aggravated as more spikes pierced his flesh as he writhed in agony.
Through the racking pain, he struggled to say something, but in the struggle unconsciousness claimed him. The archer could not decipher the echoless croaking coming out of the pain stricken man. It sounded like Hurc or hurt. She could not be sure.
His benefactor watched the motionless hunter for several minutes, deciding what to do next. She nudged the still form lightly with her foot, making sure the hunter was indeed unconscious and not setting a trap. The blonde man remained quiet.
She didn't understand why she could not regard him with the same dispassion as she would a rabbit caught in a snare. She had every intention of killing the man that had pursued her earlier.
She wondered at what point she became so hardened to human life. Like exotic cats, the beasts of the forest would kill not only to sustain themselves but for the shear amusement of killing. But it was their desire for human flesh brought them to the edge of the thicket, snatching the innocent that would wander too close to their wooded domain.
She wanted to annihilate the animals and through the years felt as though she had lost her humanity in the pursuit. Her pursuit to kill the bloodthirsty beasts had consumed her thoughts, and dictated her actions for too long. Like the monsters, she was now a denizen of the forest and the villagers soon associated her presence with that of the animals. In the past, the villagers had stalked her mercilessly, possessing only the intention of killing her, not of understanding her.
The villagers' desire to hunt her down and murder her was just as unfounded as her desire to execute the unconscious man lying at her feet. She couldn't bring herself to kill him without knowing why he was hunting her.
The scratches to his face were already beginning to swell from the poison of the widow's thorn. She knew the situation was grave and probably hopeless. The widow's thorn had claimed far too many that ventured into these woodlands and most were not as severely injured as this man. She didn't know if she could save him, but the quiescent, handsome face beckoned her to help.
Her years of captivity in the thicket had led her to become resistant to the effects of the widow's thorn. She had been stabbed so many times by the prolific spikes that she no longer suffered from their devastating effects. She surmised that Artemis protected her from the poison, only so that she may serve out her complete sentence as a prisoner of the forest.
The long mournful cry of the blood thirsty creature suggested it would not be kept from its prize for long. If she was going to help the injured man she knew would need to do it now.
The woman threw down the bow and quiver and began to tenderly free Iolaus from the thorns that bound him. "Well, I guess if I'm going to help you, I should properly introduce myself," she thought to herself, "I'm Nicaea."
After loosening the hunter from the thorns so he could safely be moved away, Nicaea painstakingly removed her only good arrow from the dead beast's chest. She was being careful not to damage it, since her crude arrows did little to stop the bloodthirsty beasts before.
She pulled at her cape which was partially buried under the dead animal and carefully wrapped Iolaus' bleeding body in the cloak. The vines from his prison were used to securely tie her burden.
Pulling on the hood of the cape, Nicaea cautiously drug the limp body toward her cabin deep within the woods.
*********** .
Nicaea stoked the fire once more before checking on the injured man. The cabin remained chilly after the brisk autumn night. The sun peeked out from low morning clouds filtering the cabin with gentle lighting. The blonde hunter had been unconscious for well over two days.
She had long since cleansed his wounds and applied a salve of herbs and blood that was designed to draw out the poison. All that was left to do was wait. During the long nights, Nicaea had forced herself to stay awake and keep a vigil. She hoped by now that his condition would show some signs of improvement.
The blonde hunter had a fitful rest; tossing and turning with night terrors she could only imagine. The pain that one endured from a small dose of the widow's thorn was torture enough, but in large doses, the poison was known to have hallucinogenic and terrifying effects.
Combative when Iolaus was hallucinating; he clawed at his bandages and screamed in terror or pain. She tried in vain to hold him down during these restive periods, but to little avail. The hunter was too strong and threw her off as if nothing more than a rag doll. Nicaea finally had to tie his hands and legs to the framework of the bed to keep him from harming himself.
Tensed in spasms of pain, Iolaus' back arched convulsively. The raw emotions of his torture were unbearable as the pain and nightmares consumed him. "No. . .Hercules. . .Hellespont," he muttered, trying to escape the binds. He would again scream in frustration when the binds would not yield.
His shrill screams hurt her ears and Nicaea wanted desperately to escape the sound. After days of his suffering, she needed to escape the terrible shrieks and wails coming from her patient. Even with her own need for escape, Nicaea was still fearful about leaving him alone for even a moment.
Finally, no longer able to endure the suffering in his screams, Nicaea had to leave and escape the turmoil. Slamming the door to the small cabin, she ran until she could no longer breathe from the exertion. She collapsed to the ground, folded her legs against her chest, covered her ears and rocked until she could finally think once more. Her moment of withdrawal realized, Nicaea would go back inside and tend to her patient.
Once inside, Nicaea watched Iolaus in quiet solitude. As quickly as the night terrors had come on, they dissipated and his screams had stopped. The hunter slept peacefully.
His fight with the binds caused abrasive burns on his wrists and ankles. She loosened them, gently rubbing his callused hands and strong wrists with the same red ointment she used to treat his scratches.
The scratches would heal quickly. It was the injuries to his eyes that concerned her. She had washed them with a solution of cineraria and nettleleaf, but the redness and swelling had not gone down. His normally handsome face was still bloated from the poison.
Nicaea unwrapped the bandages from his eyes and replaced them with new ones. She wrung out the linen strips soaked in the cineraria and nettleleaf and placed them back on his eyes. She then wound his head with a strip of dry linen cloth, covering his eyes and holding the steeped bandages in place.
She watched as he slept, absently playing with a lock of his golden hair. He became restive again, muttering names and places in his fevered sleep. "Herc. . .Anya. . ."
She gently stroked the skin along the side of his face, hoping to comfort him. In his dazed state, she resolved that the touch was really more to comfort herself. The warmth of his skin made her remember how truly alone she had been and the sound of his breathing satisfied an empty place in her soul. She had been without company since her exile and rarely ventured out of her cabin except to gain supplies.
Nicaea reached over to the large bucket she kept full of water. It was almost empty. She had used most of the liquid to prepare the salve. The bandages needed to be replaced every four hours and she would soon need more of the precious liquid.
Iolaus continued to call out in his sleep.
"Shhhhhhhhhh," she said trying to reassure him. He continued to mutter the same word repeatedly. She had no idea what a herc was but it must have been very important to him. She stroked his fevered brow before rising from the edge of the bed.
Her patient was still in a state of agitation but she couldn't put it off any longer. She had to get more water. She began to replace the binds in an effort to keep him safe while she was gone.
"No. . .No. . ." he pleaded as she attempted to shackle him down. The remorse of his plea, although most likely not directed at her, made her want to cry. His wrists were already swollen and chaffed and she found she could not put him through any more torment. She let the bindings fall to the ground and hoped some benevolent god would protect him while she was gone.
Nicaea grabbed the bucket from the side of the bed and walked out of the cabin. She began her trek toward the small pond.
The pond was shallow, and several meters wide. The trees that formed an impenetrable canopy and protected the thicket were scattered here. Diffused sunlight dappled through the trees and onto the clear body of water.
She knelt down and caught a reflection of herself in the water. She could no longer imagine the left side of her face as it once was: human.
She regarded the image that stared at her from the water below. Her eye had been permanently closed from the layers of scaly ridges. She turned slightly and saw only the slight protrudence of her ear lobe remained. The corner of her mouth was turned under, effectively paralyzed from the scurfy ridges.
She brought up her hands and touched the left side of her face. She felt the jagged edges of her scarred skin. Scaly ridges extended from her hairline, down the side of her face to her chin and neck. The scaly surface on her left side had the gray green pallor and scurfy texture of a sea serpent.
Her skull lacked any real quality of hair. In it's absence there were masses of long light brown strands of barbels scattered sparsely over her scalp. She compared her scalp to that of a balding porcupine; the barbels were like the soft quills on the back of the small mammal.
Her left fingers and toes were webbed and covered with more scaly protrusions. Her nails were black and necrotic. The greenish pallor extended throughout her left side, from her scalp to her toes. She was at least able to conceal her disfigured body with her clothing, but her face, hands, and feet were unprotected from scrutiny.
She then touched the right side of her face and closed her right eye as if to remember. This side of her face was just as comely as it had been thirteen years ago when she had been exiled to the thicket.
Her sage green dress had faded with time and was tattered and warn. Nicaea absently wiped her hands across the front of the dress as if able to brush away the effects of time.
This was her punishment for her pride and arrogance. Every time she looked into the stream, she would be forever reminded of the woman she was, and the monster she had become.
She tried to speak to the grim reflection that stared back at her, but her voice was all but lost with the years of solitude. Her words were mere croaks as she could not find her voice.
She wondered how she would be able to communicate with the injured hunter waiting in the cabin.
************
Her wistful folly was suddenly abandoned when she realized he was alone and still gravely ill. She ran back to her home, water from the bucket sloshing to the ground.
Iolaus woke from his fevered sleep. His mind was disoriented and muddled. He remained in bed listening to the sounds around him, trying to get his bearings. He could hear the crackling of the fire next to him and the muted sounds of the woodlands in the background. The sounds that emanated from the forest made him believe it was still early in the morning. He lay in the bed, identifying the call from three separate birds, the croaking of a large bull frog and the chirp of a cricket. He found it curious that no voices escaped the boundary of the room.
He could feel the weight of the bandages on his face and wound around his eyes. Iolaus touched them briefly and then moved his hand toward the linen sheet of the bed. Someone must have brought him to a healing temple, he thought.
"Herc?" his voice cracked, but he was greeted by silence. Iolaus tried to rise from the bed, but was stopped by his muscles angrily protesting the move. He became dizzy from the effort and fell back into the softly stuffed pallet. He once again touched the bandages wrapped around his eyes.
He forced himself to rise ignoring the aching in his muscles. He set on the edge of the pallet and lifted his left hand to gently touch the scratches on his chest. They still burned with fulsome intensity. His right wrist was stiff and felt as if it was swollen, but it didn't seem broken.
Curiosity about his injuries convinced him to unwind the bandage from his eyes. Once the bandage was removed, he would be able to assess the injury to his wrists and chest as well as his other injuries.
He thought back to the moments before he lost consciousness.
He remembered the beast jumping on his back and him tumbling into the patch of widow's thorns. The pain of the spikes as they jabbed at his skin was still reminding him with the unceasing pain in his chest.
The scratches were painful, but were after all only scratches. Certainly they could no longer be seeping. A little poultice to the wounds and they should be protected from infection.
Iolaus' hand went back up to his eyes. The healer had taken special care to wrap the bandage and he wondered what kind of injury could have befallen him that would require such an overburdened wrapping. Iolaus began to unwind the long linen strip, believing that the bandage would never end.
Once removed, he had to contend with wads of linen placed directly on his eyes. With the linen strip removed, Iolaus carefully pried the linen from his eyes. They smelled of an antiseptic he could not identify and didn't particularly favor.
The pain from removing the pad was evidenced by the tears that fell through his swollen lids. He took note that his face was still quite swollen from his ordeal in the forest. He tried blinking a couple of times, but his vision remained dark. His left eye was swollen shut. The upper and lower lids were cemented together with pus. With some effort, he was able to blink his right eye, but it seemed to be oblivious to the intake of light.
"I'm blind," he said to himself and was surprised by the calmness in his voice as he spoke. Then the panic began to set in and he began thinking of the consequences of his blindness.
His mind started reeling with questions, and they went through his brain in record sequence. "What if it's permanent? What if I'll never see again? How can I hunt? How can I fight? I couldn't be Herc's partner anymore." Now, Iolaus' panic was full blown.
He was genuinely more upset by no longer being able to fight by Hercules' side, than by being struck blind. It was easy for Iolaus to imagine what it would be like not to see; the mechanics of blindness were easy to rationalize. He had more difficulty imaging himself not being able to watch is best friend's back.
Disjointed images of Hercules, and their fights together floated in his mind. They had always been there for each other. They fought the Hydra together. They battled Echidna. They battled the sand sharks and any of a multitude of Hera's minions. How would he be able to fight with his best friend and watch his back if he were blind?
He wondered how his friendship with Hercules would be different if he remained blind. Iolaus thought Hercules was always more protective toward him that he should be. The tall demigod would be even more protective if he was blind. He didn't want that.
Thoughts flooding his mind, Iolaus realized he was not going to get any rest so he decided to get out of bed.
He found the closest wall and began walking around the perimeter of the room, trying to remember landmarks as he slowly and carefully bumped into them. The bed was up against the left wall. He began there and started feeling his way around the room. The fireplace was against the back wall. He found a bow and quiver resting up against the hearth.
"A healing temple would have no use for a bow and arrow," he thought quizzically.
He began groping his way up the bow. At the notch in the top, where the string attached to the bow, he felt several small feathers dangling from the apparatus.
"The stranger in the forest?" he mumbled to himself, "Iolaus, I thought you were a goner for sure."
He continued to survey the cabin. Off to the right, not quite in the center was a small table with one chair. He followed the lines of the flat surface with his hands. As he did, he tipped over a small wicker basket sitting on the edge. The contents of the basket came tumbling out. He tried to right the container and his hand fell on some un-leaven bread. His stomach growled in response to the sudden idea of food. He tore a piece off the loaf and stuffed it in his mouth. He grabbed the rest of the flat bread and continued to follow the contours of the table until he came to the right wall.
On the right wall was a long console table set against the wall. The only window in the cabin was above it.
The cabin was utilitarian and very small. There were no hangings on the wall, that he could feel, and only a few rudimentary baskets and cooking utensils. He was able to walk from one side to the other in a little over seven strides.
Once he got the lay of the cabin, he began a careful pace between the bed and the table. Pacing seemed to take his mind off his handicap much better than sleep would have.
Iolaus had continued to pace the cabin when he thought he heard a whimper coming from the outside. He stopped his pacing and strained his ears to hear the sound again.
"Yes, there it is," he thought. The tiny whimpering seemed to be getting closer to the cabin. Iolaus wondered how he could hear such a faint sound so clearly. The source of the whimpering seemed so far away.
He had heard stories about the blind with the extraordinary sense of hearing and he knew some were myth. But he also remembered a soldier who had lost his sight in battle. His loss was replaced by a keen sense of hearing. He had saved the troops from many night time raids, because he was able to give advance notice of the enemy's advance.
The soldiers gift was provided by the gods, who had a stake in the outcome of the war and it was thrust upon the soldier months after his blindness. However the story still didn't explain why Iolaus could hear so clearly and so soon after his injury.
He touched the scratches on his chest again wondering if he had imagined them earlier. They were still there. He knew the fall into the brambles had to be a recent event.
A low menacing growl soon escaped from outside the confines of the cabin. It easily drowned out the pitiful cries he had heard earlier. Iolaus had no problem recognizing the growl. It came from the same beast he had encountered earlier.
Although louder than the whimpering cries, Iolaus could sense it was not much closer than the source of the whimpering. He could also tell it was coming from an opposite direction.
The whimpering was quickly building into a wail. "Mama. Mama," a child cried from the outside.
"Breccia," Iolaus breathed, hoping and fearing it was the child he had come to rescue.
He fumbled for the door and opened it to the woods beyond. The sound of the crying seemed to be getting closer. As the crisp morning air hit the hunters face, Iolaus had to quickly decide on the best way he could approach the crying child.
************
Knowing that her gravely ill hunter was alone in the cabin, Nicaea rushed back to her waiting patient ashamed of herself for getting so distracted at the pond. The bucket she was carrying was a heavy burden, so she put it down briefly and rested. She bent forward, grasping her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her chest heaved and burned from the task of taking in the cold morning air. When her asthmatic breathing ceased, she could hear the faint cries of a child.
Looking toward the cabin, her heart almost jumped into her throat. A young child of about three years of age stood only feet from the cabin. Stalking her was one of the bloodthirsty beasts that she had spent half a lifetime exterminating. Nicaea abandoned the water and ran toward the small child.
As she got closer to the whimpering child, she slowed her approach. The child was justifiably frightened. The growl of the animal was low and menacing. Focusing only on the animal in front of her, the little girl was slowly backing up, toward the cabin wall. The beast was matching her movement step by step. This time, the animal did not need to use his speed to bring down its prey. If the toddler continued her backward trek, there would be no way for the girl to escape. The animal would effectively have her trapped.
Nicaea was momentarily stunned when she saw her cabin door open and her patient step out. The bandage covering his eyes was off but Iolaus' steps were unsure and tentative. Nicaea's heart sank. His uneasy stance told the story. The hunter's eye sight must have been compromised from his injuries.
"Iolaus," Nicaea tried to speak. With years of disuse, her voice was raspy and meager and barely made it out of her throat.
She pushed the air through her vocal cords with as much force as she could. "Olus," she croaked, this time her voice was a little more audible. The blond hunter looked toward the sound of the almost inhuman utterance.
"Grrrrl." Nicaea beckoned. The voice echoed in her throat before it was released. Once released, the sound could have easily been mistaken for a growl; a call that the beasts would make to warn others in their pride of danger.
Iolaus quickly conceded to his infirmary and dubiously shrugged his shoulders. He knew the child was near from her crying but blind, he couldn't locate her well enough to rescue her.
"Wall." Nicaea said, as if she could almost read his thoughts. Iolaus responded as if he could almost see. He looked to his left toward the girl.
"What about the animal?" he called out.
"Grrrrl," her raspy voice continued. With nothing more than a guttural sound, Iolaus knew that his focus at the moment needed to be the small child and not the beast.
Iolaus nodded in response.
There was a definite authority in the guttural utterances, and Iolaus felt obligated to obey the directions given to him. He slowly followed the outline of the cabin for a few steps. Even blind he could sense the animal continuing to make its stealthy approach.
Nicaea reached for her bow and arrow and cursed silently when she found it was missing. She never left the cabin without it. Her temper at her forgetfulness flared even more as she watched the blind man who was dependent on her and the child who was in imminent peril.
Looking around her, Nicaea picked up a large rock from the ground and hurled it at the creature. The first one missed its mark, but the throw managed to divert the beast's attention off its prey, at least momentarily. Taking advantage of the distraction Nicaea picked up another stone and threw it. This time, it hit the beast squarely on its back haunches. With a yelp, it turned its attention toward Nicaea.
"Now!" Nicaea croaked again. Her voice was getting stronger with use.
Iolaus quickly counted out two paces until he ran into the little girl. With little regard for the child's immediate well-being, he grabbed Breccia with great force, whisking her up and into his arms. He tried to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground so that he would not loose his bearings. Using his left hand to guide him back to the door, he quickly ran inside.
"You stay here," he said pointing in the general direction of the child. She scurried into a corner and continued to sob.
Iolaus then grabbed the bow and arrow laying next to the hearth and ran back toward the door.
Outside, the animal looked back toward its intended prey. The little girl was gone. Frustrated at being denied its easy catch, the creature turned towards Nicaea. It came toward her with slow and calculating intent. As the creature approached, she could see it was the one that she had aimed her bow at only days before. The beast's eyes were blood red and spoke of evil and revenge.
She sidestepped the approaching beast and ran. Normally, her long, thin legs would carry her far and fast, but because the beast was between her and the cabin she had to take a circuitous route to reach her home. The beast knew the forest floor as well as Nicaea and she was not as fast as the pursuing animal. It was quickly gaining ground. She pumped her legs faster trying to make it to the door of the cabin before the animal could win the race.
The beast was closing in, and quickly came within striking distance. She was getting yards closer to the cabin when the creature made its final move. Using its thick, short back legs, the animal propelled itself up and onto Nicaea's back. Its powerful leap brought Nicaea to the rough ground with a loud thud. Her breath was knocked out of her.
In an attempt to crush her throat with its powerful jaws, the beast tried to gain access to Nicaea's neck. The animal quickly hopped off her back and used the forest floor as leverage for its final assault. Its brief hesitation to get a better grip allowed Nicaea to roll over on her back. She used her unwieldy, long arms and legs to hit and jab at the monster. Then she saw the wound in its chest and what was left of her arrow protruding from its side.
Using the palm of her hand, she pushed the stub of the arrow further into the seeping wound. The animal yelped and backed up.
Nicaea rolled off her back and scrambled up. She ran toward the cabin, yet the beast was not going to be denied his prize. Both moving slower, it still continued to pursue her and still had the advantage.
The predator quickly caught up with its prey. The large front paws easily forced Nicaea to the ground again. In an effort to promptly subdue the prey that had managed to get away once, the creature latched onto her torso. A garbled scream escaped Nicaea's lips as the creature's massive canines bit into the flesh along her back and side.
As Iolaus opened the door, he was greeted by a scream. The beast stopped and looked toward the man in the cabin, but his interest was in the prey at his feet. He let out a low warning growl, and it was just as menacing as the first time Iolaus had heard it.
Nicaea screamed again as the beast's jaws locked into her flesh once more, ripping the flesh as he tried to shake his prey.
"Shoot," Nicaea's tormented voice pleaded when she saw Iolaus exit the cabin with the bow and arrow. She had hoped her entreaty would not go unheard. Both had witnessed the skill in which the beast quickly brought down its prey. Both knew there would be no hope for Nicaea if Iolaus did not attempt to bring down the beast. Nicaea knew the beast's next attack would certainly be to break her neck.
Iolaus smiled to himself. He was pleased that the beast vocalized its location. Without the low rumbling coming from its throat, the hunter would have never been able to ascertain its location.
Iolaus aimed the bow toward the beast and made a silent prayer to Artemis. He let go of the taut string. The arrow flew with accurate precision and found its target. The animal fell where he stood.
Nicaea breathed a sigh of relief as she pushed the beast off of her. She tried to pick herself up from the ground. The effort to get up produced a strangled groan. The injury to her side was painful and bleeding and the guttural moaning was almost as inhuman as the beast's. For a split second, Iolaus feared he had killed the prey and not the predator.
"Thank the gods," she breathed as she just laid where she fell.
Iolaus scrambled toward her, almost falling himself a couple of times before he found her. He reached down to help her up
"No. Don't touch me," she pleaded as she held out a hand to stop him.
"You're hurt. Let me help you," he requested.
"No!...you can't touch me."
"Why? Are you a Hind or something?" Iolaus asked, He had experienced the curiosity of the Hind. One touch while they were in human form would transform them into the golden deer. He was not sure what other reason there would be for her sudden anxiety to an offer of help.
"Is that why she doesn't want me to touch her?" he wondered.
"I'm fine... please...help the child," she said as she strained to get up. "See? Fine," she chastised.
"Well, actually no I can't see you`re fine," Iolaus answered back, but Iolaus didn't need to see. He could hear the muffled groaning and obvious discomfort in her voice, but decided to let it drop for now. It was clear she would refuse his help if he offered again.
Nicaea chided herself for her poor choice of words, just as she chided herself for the foolish time she spent at the pool.
Nicaea suddenly remembered the precious liquid she had collected from the pond. Trying to take a breath was excruciatingly difficult as the pain racked her side. "Water," Nicaea gasped in pain.
"Oh, sure. I'll get some," Iolaus said as he turned and then pointed himself in what he hoped was the right direction to the cabin.
Nicaea smiled in spite of the pain. "No, I'll get it. You go back in," she rasped. Then she put her two hands on his shoulder and twisted them slightly to direct him on to the right path.
Nicaea waited until the hunter was safely in the cabin before she retrieved the water and then turned back toward the spot where she had left the bucket. Her eyes skirted past the beast. She shuttered at the animal that had been shot dead right on top of her.
Iolaus had to be an expert marksman to have hit the animal without the use of his sight. He had aimed and killed the monster while it was practically on top of her. As an expert marksman herself, she had seen few as good with the long bow.
She held her side just above the injury as she slowly walked to the place where she had dropped the water pail. The warm, sticky blood from the now seeping wound was beginning to dry, cementing her garment to her skin and pulling at the already abused tissue.
The bite would certainly cause an infection if she didn't clean it. She had seen infections from the beast's venomous fangs happen overnight.
Lifting her dress, Nicaea tried to examine her wound. It was too far on her side and back for her to really determine the damage, much less effectively wash it. Ideally, a dip in the pond would be the only way to ensure the wound received a gentle cleansing, but Nicaea had no time to traverse to the pond. She had to get back to Iolaus and the young child.
Deciding a cursory wash was better than none at all, Nicaea tore off a piece of her garment and dipped it into the bucket of water. She gently washed as much of the wound as she could reach, sucking in a large gulp of air between her teeth as her hand gently went over the raw flesh.
Heading back toward the cabin, Nicaea took a detour to a set of snares she had set up earlier in the woods.
Normally, she would supplement her unleaven bread with fruits and berries gathered from the forest. Occasionally, she would add some meat. Now, with two additional mouths to feed, she would certainly need the game she trapped.
Her first trap was empty. The game she had snared had been ripped from the taut ropes, possibly by the injured beast Iolaus had just killed. Her second snare had caught a rabbit. Frightened, it tried valiantly to get away before regretfully Nicaea wrung it's neck. Suddenly, she was so tired of killing. Nicaea tied the back feet of the rabbit together and then slung it over her shoulder for her slow trip back.
************
Iolaus could hear the gentle sobbing of the frightened child in the corner. Having already learned the lay of the room, Iolaus recklessly rushed to her in an effort to comfort the frightened child.
His effort to console her was clearly a mistake. As he got nearer, her whimpering became louder and more strident.
Iolaus couldn't understand why the young girl continued to be so frightened. She was safe and the beast was dead.
"Go away, monster," Breccia said as she folded up into herself and tried to melt into the corner.
Iolaus realized that the child's fright was caused by himself and not the fear of the animal outside. His disfigured and swollen face must have made him look like a monster to the child. If he had any chance of gaining the young girl's trust, he had to begin on her level. Iolaus stopped and then sat down on the floor.
"Breccia? It is Breccia, isn't it?" Iolaus asked, wanting to confirm that another child was not lost in the thicket.
The young girl's sobbing diminished. "Uh huh," she answered through a trembling mouth.
"Good. Good," he smiled although the swelling in his face made the friendly gesture difficult. "I met your mommy and she's very worried about you. She sent me to find you."
"Mommy," Breccia cried and then her wailing began anew.
"Oh, now you've done it, Iolaus," the hunter said out loud. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. You had to mention her mother."
Nicaea opened the door to Iolaus' plaintive admonition and the child's rampant wailing. As she made it all the way through the thresh hold, she had grabbed the blood spattered cape that hung next to the door. Nicaea was always cognizant of how she appeared to the outside world. They were quick to use the word monster, or beast, or abomination to describe her likeness. Villages pursued her tirelessly not because she was malevolent, but only because she looked beastly.
The cape, a stolen gift from a victim of the widow's thorn was like a protective shell to Nicaea. Fearful of meeting hunters in the thicket, she wore the cape, like a shield, to hide her features. Unfortunately, she could not grab the cloak before Breccia saw her face.
"Monster," Breccia cried again. Her lip trembled in fear as she pointed to Nicaea. Still cramped in her corner, the small child found a way to retreat further into the recess.
Iolaus, thinking the child once again was describing him turned to Nicaea and asked, "Do I look that bad?"
"I'm sure it's not you," she answered plainly. "She's probably hungry. Did you offer her some food?" Nicaea asked as she sat the rabbit on the floor. She stifled a low moan.
Nicaea wanted to be an amenable host, but she resented the intrusion into her only safe haven by both Iolaus and the girl. Granted, she took Iolaus in when he was unconscious and not expected to live, and it was acceptable when he was blind, but now she had to contend with a young girl very much able to see every scale and every barbel on her cursed frame.
Nicaea walked to the table and pulled off another piece of bread. Walking over to Iolaus, she put it in his hand.
"Offer her some food," Nicaea commanded.
Iolaus took the bread and hunched down proceeding carefully toward the young girl. His voice was quiet and reassuring.
"I know my face must look pretty horrible to you, but it was caused by an accident. I'm not a monster. In fact, I kill monsters for a living. Yep, Monsters R Us...well, me and Hercules."
"You know Hercules?' Nicaea interrupted.
"He's my best friend and partner," Iolaus said and then a look of regret clouded his features. "Or should I say, we were partners?"
"What do you mean `were'?"
"Like you haven't noticed. I'm blind. How can I be his partner, watch his back, and fight by his side when I`m blind?"
Nicaea was quiet for a moment. A wry smile crossed her face, but even if Iolaus could have seen it, it was veiled by her protective cloak. "Lives don't always turn out how you expected," Nicaea answered trying to hide her bitterness.
Iolaus turned back toward Breccia. He understood all too well that life was not always easy. He often had to learn that lesson the hard way, but that seemed to change when he met Hercules. He didn`t want the dynamics of their relationship to change because he was blind, but Iolaus knew that it would.
"It's okay," Iolaus said persuading the young girl to take the food offered to her.
The little girl was wary of Iolaus but his voice was gentle and he didn't seem all that mean so Breccia quickly grabbed the piece of bread from his hand and stuffed it into her mouth.
Iolaus smiled. It was a lopsided smile considering the swelling in his face, but Breccia could see it was a smile nonetheless.
"Are you hungry?" Nicaea asked Iolaus, her voice still hoarse from years of nonuse.
"Does the Hydra have two heads?" Iolaus answered.
"Not anymore I believe," Nicaea answered after hearing the many stories told of how Hercules had slain the monster. "I have rabbit, I hope that's okay?"
"Are you kidding? I love rabbit."
Nicaea silently went about preparing the meal. The young girl that had trapped herself in a corner was still there, but had quieted and was watching Iolaus intently.
The hunter sat on the bed and began covering his left eye with his left hand and then his right eye with his right hand. He had hoped he would be able to gage some changes to his sight.
Nicaea watched his odd gyrations. It reminded her of some warped game of peek-a-boo.
"What are you doing?" she finally asked Iolaus.
"Just checking my eyesight."
"Give it time. You should be wearing your bandages," she said pointing a knife idly in his direction.
Iolaus didn't want to wear the heavy wrap across his eyes. It was uncomfortable and it stunk. Trying to be patient, which was not an easy task for Iolaus, he put both hands down in his lap.
Uncomfortable in the silence, Iolaus finally asked, "What's your name again?" not sure if she had told him a first time.
"Nicaea," she answered.
"Nicaea," Iolaus said, "that's nice."
Iolaus grinned at his sudden play on words and expected Nicaea to laugh. Everyone laughed at his puns. When no laughter was forthcoming, the hunter decided explaining the joke was in order. "Get it, Nicaea, nice?"
Nicaea rolled her eyes in difference. "Dinner," She announced not giving Iolaus the satisfaction of a rebuttal. With pain and effort, she moved the table closer to Iolaus' position on the bed. She then placed a plate in front of him.
"Eat," she requested as she prepared a smaller plate for the child. She placed Breccia's plate next to Iolaus, then she busied herself with other chores.
When it was clear that Nicaea wasn't going to join him, Iolaus asked, "Aren't you going to eat?"
Even if Nicaea had the appetite to eat, she would have chosen to do it alone. Besides, not being set up for company, Iolaus was currently eating off the only plate Nicaea owned. But the truth was, chills from the beast's bite were already coursing through her body.
"Maybe later," Nicaea answered as she pulled her chair over to the fire to warm herself from the fever induced chills.
After eating alone for several minutes, Iolaus moved toward the corner and tried to cajole Breccia to the table. She was not ready to come out of her corner, so Iolaus dropped morsels of food for her to pick up.
Breccia waited until Iolaus' hand had moved back to the table before she grabbed at the tidbits of food. "Monsters eat children, they didn't feed them", Breccia thought to herself. She began to doubt if Iolaus was truly a monster after all.
After several bites, Breccia decided she was hungry. Iolaus wasn't feeding her as fast as she would have liked. Hunger outweighing her fear, Breccia got up from her corner and walked to the table. Stealthfully sneaking up next to Iolaus, Breccia stood next to the table and grabbed two fists full of food from her plate. She watched the gentle smile return to Iolaus' face as she stuffed the food into her mouth.
Breccia then drained her cup and brought it up for Iolaus to see. "More," she pronounced as crumbs of food trickled down her chin.
"Breccia's got a healthy appetite. That's a good start," Iolaus said as he sopped up the last of the juice from the rabbit with a piece of bread.
Nicaea looked over and saw his empty plate. "Guess Breccia's not the only one. I'll get you some more," she said as she tried to get up. A painful groan escaped her lips as she forced herself from the chair.
Iolaus, aware of her injury entreatied her to stop. "No, I'll get it." he answered her back. Besides, if the blindness was going to be permanent, he was going to have to learn to adapt to it. The sooner, the better he surmised.
Nicaea nodded and then sank back into her chair. A languid sigh told Iolaus she continued to hurt from the beast's attack, but had done as he had asked.
With the table moved forward, Iolaus quickly lost his bearings. Hesitant in his footsteps, the hunter guided himself around the perimeter of the room to the sideboard where Nicaea had prepared the meal. He quietly counted his steps.
Iolaus filled his plate with a variety of foods and then counted the steps back to the bed. Both Iolaus and Breccia ate in silence, although Breccia constantly scrutinized the hunter with the warped face. After watching him animatedly pick off the meat from a bone with his teeth, Breccia decided she really wasn't afraid of Iolaus anymore.
Finally, the girls attention focused on the monster in the chair instead. The monster had tried to hide her ugliness but Breccia saw the scaled skin of her disfigured face. Whereas Iolaus' face may have been distorted, it appeared human, Nicaea's face with its scurfy texture and quill-like hair most certainly was not.
"Breccia?" Iolaus asked as the girl suddenly quit eating and became silent in her staring.
"Monster's ugly," Breccia answered pointing a finger toward Nicaea.
"I told you, I'm not a monster. I kill monsters," Iolaus responded a bit perturbed.
Nicaea tucked her hands and feet underneath her cloak. She hid her face carefully so that only the human half of her face was exposed.. She had seen who Breccia was pointing at and could not refute the child's image of her. She was a monster.
Breccia looked at Iolaus and became suddenly confused. If Iolaus killed monsters, then why hadn't he killed Nicaea. She decided to ask him.
"Then why didn't you kill monster?"
This time, Iolaus thought she was referring to the beast outside. "I did kill the monster, Breccia. He won't harm you anymore."
Now Breccia was really confused. The monster she was talking about sat in a chair just feet away. Yet, maybe, what the man said was true. The monster had never tried to hurt her, in fact, the monster didn't even try to get near to her.
"You killed the monster?" Breccia asked.
"That's right," Iolaus answered.
Breccia smiled in understanding. "Maybe monsters were something that lived inside of us." she thought.
************
Hercules came into the small village in the middle of the afternoon. Surveying the buildings, his eyes lit upon the tavern. He had no doubt the patrons of the tavern would have seen Iolaus, if in fact, he wasn't there at the moment.
The tavern door opened to the grunts and groans of the patrons. Hercules walked in to the dimly lit tavern. He didn't see Iolaus in the small room, so he approached the barkeep.
"Have you seen my friend? He's about this tall, blond, likes to fish?" The demigod asked as he held his hand to about shoulder height to demonstrate his friend's stature.
The bartender thought it over. "You mean today?" he asked.
"Well, maybe not today, but a few days ago? Yesterday perhaps?"
A drunk from a nearby table chimed in, "Well, there was that guy that came in a few days ago. Thought he was Hercules."
Hercules turned to him. "He thought he was Hercules or said he was Hercules?" the demigod asked. He had experienced both kinds of fraud.
"Who knows? He went traipsing into the woods to save Breccia from the beast."
"Dang stupid and not very Herculean if you ask me," another drunk chimed in.
"Iolaus," Hercules nodded, knowing they were speaking of his friend.
"Have you seen him since?" Hercules inquired.
"Nope," the drunk responded taking a gulp from his drink.
The statement concerned Hercules. It had been two days and no one had seen Iolaus. Granted this wasn't the friendliest bunch of folk, but his gregarious partner would surely have been noticed if he had made it back to the village.
"Nobody's seen him?" Hercules asked again.
"Maybe you should ask Scorria," one man intoned lasciviously.
"Or," another man laughed conspiratorially, "Maybe he was eaten by the beast,"
"Nah. Probably chickened out," the first man answered.
Trying desperately to get some useful information from the drunks, the demigod asked,
"Who's Scorria?"
"The little brat's mother," the first one answered again, "you know, the one he went to rescue."
"Okay. So where does Scorria live?" Hercules asked deciding it would be a place to start the search for his friend. He was greeted by a shrug from both tavern patrons.
"Why does that not surprise me," Hercules thought and quickly left the confines of the tavern to begin his search for Iolaus. He surveyed the thick woods to his right. His instincts told him Iolaus was in trouble. A pink shimmering light caused Hercules to look in the opposite direction. Aphrodite appeared beside him.
"Hercules, you can't," Aphrodite said.
"I can't what?" Hercules asked.
"Rescue Sweetcheeks," Aphrodite answered, "at least not now."
"I don't have time for this," Hercules answered. Aphrodite was being coy, which probably meant she wanted a favor from the demigod and right then, Hercules' only concern was with his missing partner. He proceeded toward the thicket trying to find a safe place to enter. Aphrodite followed behind him.
"I'm serious, Hercules," Aphrodite said as she grabbed the forearm of her muscular brother.
"Hello, Aphrodite? No one has seen Iolaus in two days. Unless you know something you're not telling me."
"Well..." the Goddess of Love declared as she tapped her fingernails nervously on her teeth. She was reluctant to tell him because she knew his reaction.
"He's alright isn't he?" Hercules questioned.
"Well..." Aphrodite declared reluctantly.
"What's happened to him?"
"Cousin Asclepius is hopeful the vision in the one eye will return in a day or two. He`s not sure about the other eye," Aphrodite answered as she tried to keep up with the demigod`s long stride.
"He's blind?" Hercules turned and asked incredulously. "How?"
"Widow's thorn," Aphrodite answered solemnly.
"Widow's thorn? But those are..."
"The mortals' version of the Hind`s blood, I know." Aphrodite nodded. She too, was worried about the blond hunter, but Aphrodite had other business that she needed to take care of, and right now Hercules was putting a wrinkle in her plans. She decided to steer the conversation to what she thought was a more pressing matter. Iolaus' eyesight aside, his life was no longer in danger and there was only so much Hercules could do for him now. "Good thing that Nicaea happened along when she did."
"Nicaea?" Hercules queried as he looked for the entrance Iolaus had used to gain access to the woods. "Nicaea. I know that name," he said as he found the opening to the thicket . He noticed the tangle of widow's thorn and carefully pulled himself through. He was surprised when Aphrodite followed him.
Hercules saw an old set of footsteps leading from the entrance of the thicket and began following their trail. It lead farther into the woods. Aphrodite continued to tag along behind.
"Not surprising," Aphrodite answered. "Nicaea was one of Artemis' most loyal followers until Orionis came between them."
"Aphrodite? What does this have to do with Iolaus?" Hercules asked perturbed, "Where is he?"
"Sheesh, bro. Give the Goddess of Love a break. I'm getting to it. It's a good story. You'll love it."
"This has nothing to do with Iolaus, does it?"
"Well, indirectly. Let me finish."
As far as goddesses go, Aphrodite could be one of the most stubborn, and it seemed a good bet to Hercules that the goddess had another agenda. The demigod decided that Aphrodite would eventually tell him what he wanted to know. He just had to wait until she was ready, and that meant listening to her long winded, although well meaning story. "Of course," he thought, "it could also be a delaying tactic."
Hercules continued to follow the trail, and he was sure it would ultimately lead him to Iolaus. He wasn't going to stop the search for his partner as he absently listened to Aphrodite prattle on.
"Both Artemis and Nicaea were in love with Orionis, you see, and Orionis had the good sense to fall for Nicaea."
"With your blessings, of course," he commented.
"Of course. You think I wanted the wicked witch of the woods to end up with the most gorgeous hunter alive? Well, Curly excluded, of course. Pu-leese! Why it would suit me fine if Artemis ends up a wrinkled old spinster. The way she tried to trick Iolaus in that beauty contest..."
"Get on with the story, Aphrodite," Hercules demanded impatiently.
"Oh yeah," Aphrodite said as she continued to follow Hercules into the forest.
"Artemis wasn't content to leave the two lovers alone. You know how green with envy and manipulative she can get, and well, Orionis was not immune to what she would call her womanly charms." Aphrodite rolled her eyes in distain. "Nicaea was still loyal to Artemis but often boasted how she was a much better archer, so Artemis challenged Nicaea to a contest. If Artemis won, Nicaea would give up claim to Orionis."
"And if Nicaea won?" Hercules asked, not particularly curious, but hoping his false interest would help the story along.
"Are you kidding? Nicaea wasn't supposed to win," Aphrodite announced as if the outcome was inevitable.
"Let me guess, Nicaea won anyway," Hercules answered.
"You got it, Bro. And you know what Artemis does when she gets angry."
"Unfortunately, I do," Hercules said remembering how Artemis had turned Iolaus into a deer after hunting the Golden Hind. "So, what did Artemis turn Nicaea into? This so-called beast of the forest?"
"Well, not exactly..."
Aphrodite suddenly stopped, leaving Hercules traveling on his own. When the preoccupied demigod realized that Aphrodite had suddenly become silent, he turned around.
The Goddess of Love had stepped in something cold and soft. She looked down at her foot as she slowly hoisted it out of the brown goo. "What is this?" she asked holding her foot up precariously as she pointed toward the brown stinky mess.
"It's dung. From a carnivore by the looks of it," Hercules answered as he made a cursory inspection.
Aphrodite made a sour face. "Eww, yuck. Get it off," she demanded.
Hercules walked back to the goddess. As he passed an overhanging tree, he plucked off a large leaf. "Tell me where I can find Iolaus or you can get it off yourself," he answered as he handed Aphrodite the leaf.
Aphrodite took the leaf and began to daintily wipe the dung from her sandal. She held her breath from the stench and Hercules feared she would soon pass out from lack of oxygen. The demigod came over and finished cleaning the excrement from the goddess' sandal.
"I know you`re worried about him, Hercules, but Asclepius has assured me that he`s in very good hands."
`If you don't mind, I'd like to see that for myself."
"Sure, I could let you do that, but then you'd be destroying two lives today instead of helping one. If Iolaus' blindness is permanent, then he needs to deal with it on his own terms."
"I can help him," Hercules protested.
"Sure. Like you always do. Fetching him water. Helping him walk. Catching him when he stumbles. I know you, you won't be able to restrain yourself. You're all about helping people. You'll smother him with your assistance. Look what you're doing right now?"
Aphrodite's eyes caught the demigod's and they both looked down at her clean sandal.
"Aphrodite, I've got to make sure he's alright."
"If it's meant for Sweetcheeks to walk in darkness for the rest of his life, then there`s going to be a time when he'll need you. Right now, bro, he needs time." Aphrodite answered as she gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder, "and right now Nicaea needs him."
"Why?" Hercules asked.
Aphrodite smiled as she wrapped her arm around her brother's massive bicep, "If I take you to Iolaus, you promise you won't go all mushy on me?"
"I promise, I won't go all mushy on you," Hercules conceded.
"Good, because the Goddess of Love can only take so much schmaltz."
************
The room was quiet and Iolaus and Breccia had settled on the bed playing a game of rock, dagger, parchment. Iolaus rested his left hand on his knee, and on the count of three, Breccia would place her choice of rock, dagger or parchment onto his palm as he gestured his choice of tools with his other hand. It was a game a blind man could play, and he was winning against the young child.
Breccia needed to be returned home, but that would have to wait until the morning. Iolaus hoped her mother had not given up home, but he had no way of knowing how long he had been unconscious or how long the little girl had been lost.
Iolaus was thankful for the distraction of Breccia's care giving. It kept him from dwelling on his blindness and thinking of how his friendship with Hercules would change. He tried not to think of himself growing old and ornery in The Blind Folk's home.
He imagined that Hercules would visit him regularly at first, but soon the visits would become less and less frequent as the stories of his exploits became more and more prevalent.
He avoided wondering if Hercules would take up with another partner. He cringed at the faces of some of the candidates as they traveled unceremoniously through his mind.
While she watched them play, Nicaea tried to hide her pain from her two guests. But Iolaus, concerned with her obvious discomfort, would stop his play with Breccia every time Nicaea let out a burdensome moan. The young girl too would quiet and continued to keep a scrutinizing eye on Nicaea. The continual staring was beginning to unnerve the resident of the forest.
Breccia watched Nicaea wondering what she had done to make the frightful woman not like her. Every time Breccia would look in her direction, Nicaea would turn away and draw her cloak tighter against her body. Breccia couldn't help but wonder why.
"Ha. Ha." Iolaus laughed, parchment wraps the rock. I win again."
"One more time?" Breccia pleaded taking her attention off Nicaea.
"Okay, but then you've got to take a nap," Iolaus answered. In truth, he had not fully recovered from his injuries and was tiring quickly.
A few rounds later Iolaus turned toward his host. He had not heard her stir for several minutes. "Nicaea?" he inquired.
"She's sleeping," Breccia answered.
"Are you sure?" Iolaus asked, "you know she's not feeling well."
"She feel bad? Why?" Breccia asked in return.
Iolaus thought the child was too young to explain the cause of Nicaea's injury, and the idea that she had been hurt trying to save Breccia from the beast may upset the already traumatized young girl. Hoping a simplistic answer would suffice, Iolaus answered, "The monster hurt her."
Breccia nodded in understanding. After all, Iolaus had told her he had exorcized the monster from her earlier in the day. She decided killing the monster inside her must have hurt.
With growing concern, Iolaus got up from the bed to check on Nicaea. He reached up and touched her fevered brow. His hand rested carefully against her forehead, so much so that he missed the scurfy texture of her cursed left side, but the brief touch identified a raging fever.
Breccia curiously followed behind Iolaus. The hunter could hear the patter from her small feet on the hard, wooden floor. He turned to the young girl and whispered, "Let's let her sleep, okay?"
"Okay," Breccia answered, but did not immediately follow Iolaus back to the bed. Regarding Nicaea, she crawled up onto the rungs of the chair and patted the sleeping adult's shoulder with compassion. "It'll be okay," she said to Nicaea.
Breccia had never been this close to the woman that had the green, scaly skin. Curiosity was getting the best of the small child, and she wanted to see Nicaea's deformed face up close and personal.
Iolaus, in an effort to prove to the young girl that he was not a monster, allowed Breccia to touch his swollen face. Convinced by Iolaus that Nicaea was not a monster, the young girl decided the sleeping woman would not mind a cursory inspection to dispel her fears.
Breccia brought out her little hand and pulled up the edge of the hood that hid Nicaea's face. The hood cast a dark shadow on Nicaea's cursed left side, so Breccia had to lean into Nicaea to get a better look.
It was then that Nicaea woke from her restless sleep.
Startled to see the young girl with the dark, scrutinizing eyes staring down at her, Nicaea jumped and then groaned with the sudden movement. The abruptness of Nicaea's waking in turn startled Breccia, and in response the young girl screamed and quickly jumped off the chair rungs and ran toward Iolaus.
Iolaus had barely stood up when Breccia grabbed the hunter's leg. Iolaus smoothed the hair on the child's head before she ran behind him for protection. He took two steps toward Nicaea with Breccia peaking through his legs.
"Are you okay?" Iolaus asked.
Nicaea rubbed her face trying to ease her grogginess. "I`m fine," she rasped, her throat dry and scratchy. She got up from her chair. "She just startled me, that's all." Nicaea said in panicked response. She looked at the frightened face of Breccia peaking out between Iolaus` legs. "I need some air."
Nicaea step out of the cabin for a moment, giving her a respite from the child's admonitions and constant stares.
Once out the door, she took several steps away from the cabin. It was late afternoon and the thicket was generally filled with a multitude of sounds. The rhythmic knocking of a woodpecker on a dead tree deep within the woods brought Nicaea's attention to the top of the trees. A lone cry from a crow added to the cacophony. The bird swooped down from the top of a tree and landed on the dead beast's body: the carcass that still lay close to the cabin.
It was normally this time of day when the howls and maniacal laughs of the beast would begin echoing through the forest. The beasts did most of their hunting at dusk, but the forest floor beyond Nicaea was still with silence.
Concerned for his host, Iolaus walked out of the cabin. "Nicaea?" he called.
Nicaea considered not answering him as she desperately wanted to escape into solitude for awhile.
"Over here," she reluctantly answered as she continued to regard the crow on top of the beast.
Iolaus stepped cautiously towards Nicaea. He stood next to her a minute before he spoke. "Are you okay?"
"They're all gone, Iolaus."
"What's all gone?" he asked.
"The beasts," she answered as a crow began to pick at the raw wound at the beast's side.
"How can you tell?"
Nicaea's focus for the past thirteen years had been the beast. She lived within their realm. She hunted them. She was even mistaken for them. But that's not how she knew they were finally extinguished. The quiet of the forest was her first clue, and the dead animal was her second.
"The beasts begin prowling this area about this time of day," Nicaea answered as her gaze moved toward the setting sun. "It's too quiet. There's no sound of them moving through the woods. No sound of their unnerving cackle." Her eyes set on the beast's dead body once again, "The body is still here?"
"Okay..." Iolaus questioned not sure why that would be an indication of the extinction of the species.
Nicaea heard the confusion veiled in his statement and she began to explain, "Even though the beasts generally hunt alone, they have a deep familial system. They care about the members of their pride. They would never permit another beast's remains to stay in the forest for crows and other carrion animals to feast on. They would bring it back to their burial lair."
"Burial lair?" Iolaus asked. He had heard stories from travelers about sacred burial grounds in India where large creatures called elephants went to die.
Nicaea nodded, and then added, "I've seen it."
"But what about the beast I found dead, at its lair,"
Nicaea laughed sardonically, "Like all societies, Iolaus, there are always outcasts."
Iolaus recognized the predication in her thinly veiled comment.
"Nicaea? How long have you been here?" He finally asked.
"Thirteen years," she answered.
"How? And why here?" he asked, knowing first hand that this region of the thicket was not the most hospitable.
Nicaea, suddenly became weary and stepped away from the carcass. She turned and found a large boulder to rest on. She groaned as she made the painful transition from standing to sitting.
Iolaus followed her and sat on the ground next to Nicaea, groaning slightly himself. He touched Nicaea's arm as he made his unsteady approach toward the ground.
Wary of the touch, Nicaea immediately pulled her arm away. She let out a long sigh. She knew it was just a matter of time before the hunter would ask questions. "I was banished here by Artemis. I was a fool; a paragon to the Huntress and this..." she said as she made a wide sweeping motion with her hands, "...is the punishment for my foolish pride."
"There must be more to it than that." Iolaus thought, knowing it must have been something unforgivable for Artemis to have banished her. He remembered well the Goddess of the Hunt's kind of retribution. He asked, "What did you do?"
"I fell in love."
"So?" Iolaus questioned.
"With the same man Artemis desired."
"Oh," Iolaus answered and turned away.
"Orionis was a great hunter and as loyal to Artemis as I once was. He said he was in love with me, but he was also infatuated with the Goddess of the Hunt. Artemis, in a desperate attempt to decide who would win the affection of Orionis, challenged me to an archery competition."
"And you lost," Iolaus surmised.
"No, I won. But pride and jealousy are not only human traits. Artemis was so angered at loosing the contest, that she banished me here. And she made sure I would never win the love of Orionis again."
"Ouch. I see," Iolaus announced. "But why not just leave the forest? What is holding you here?"
Nicaea touched her disfigured face and answered, "How's Breccia?"
Iolaus smiled. Nicaea was trying to change the subject. "She's fine. She was more frightened than anything else. So, is it a charm or something else that's holding you here?"
Nicaea thought of Breccia and the fear the child had displayed at the tiniest glimpse of her face. Since her exile into the forest, Nicaea could feel herself loosing more and more of her humanity, to the point she preferred the company of the beasts to that of humans. She had hoped that by rescuing Iolaus she could redeem some of it back, but after frightening the child once again, she knew that the thicket could be her only home. "It's the beast," Nicaea answered, "the beast within that is holding me here."
She looked at Iolaus, "The swelling is going down in your face. We should really put more medicine on it," Nicaea announced.
"Come on, Nicaea," Iolaus complained, "That stuff smells like something you'd scrape off your boot. No offense, of course," he added protectively.
"It served its purpose You are still alive, although I had hoped it would save your eyesight."
"Yeah, about that. I guess I should say, thank you."
Nicaea tried to smile, "About the not seeing part, I bet," she thought. She got up from the boulder and suppressed another groan.
Iolaus also got up, but he was still recovering from injuries of his own. As he moved forward, his foot slipped into a moss covered hole. Iolaus was unprepared for the jarring motion. Still weak from the poison, his muscles could not respond in time and Iolaus careened forward. Instinctively, the blond hunter reached for Nicaea to keep from falling.
His hand gripped the middle of her cursed forearm, where the gray-greenish serpent's flesh was thick with protective scales. Iolaus could feel the scurfy skin, and even blind could imagine its scaly origin. Images of Echidna quickly filled his mind.
"What happened to you?" Iolaus asked with revulsion. His inquiry was not born of meanness but of concern for her plight. He finally understood what Artemis must have done to her and why she made the secluded, primeval forest her home.
Iolaus had seen jealousy turn many a human into a raving lunatic especially when spurned by love. It would not be hard to imagine what would happen to a rival perceived as a threat by a goddess with the kinds of powers that Artemis possessed.
Nicaea, however, had only known the cruel intentions of the hunters that she had met in the thicket. Often mistaken for a beast and pursued tirelessly, those that were not abhorred and frightened by her visage would hunt her down, intent on killing the woman that now bore little resemblance to mankind.
She remembered Iolaus hunting her down too, and the compassion she felt for the man she had saved from the widow's thorn suddenly turned into enmity.
In an effort to escape from her perceived tormentor, Nicaea pulled away for Iolaus' strong grip and twisted her torso in a hasty move to retreat. In doing so, Nicaea tore open the wound that she so recently sustained. She clutched her side and tried to stifle a groan in renewed agony as she backed away from Iolaus. She could feel the wetness of the blood as it seeped through her dress.
Iolaus heard her strangled moan and moved forward to try to console her and explain his reaction but in his haste, he stumbled. His tortured legs, still protesting from the previous fumble, could not stop his descent.
"Iolaus!" Hercules shouted from behind. Both he and Aphrodite had come up upon the cabin and witnessed Iolaus stumbling as he got up from the ground. Hercules quickened his pace and rushed to the aid of his blind friend. He was so close when Iolaus stumbled again, that he was able to catch Iolaus before he fell. His massive hands held his partner firm.
Nicaea turned around at the demigod's verbal warning. She watched as Hercules beat a path to Iolaus and caught him in his strong arms. Still, her fear of being scrutinized by yet another intruder made the woman quickly leave for the protection of her cabin. She hobbled toward the structure still gripping her side in pain.
"Herc. What are you doing here?" Iolaus asked.
Hercules checked out his buddy. He could see the damage the widow's thorn had done to his partner's face. He saw the long, thin red line that ran across the top of his forehead to the middle of his cheek. A ridge was torn across Iolaus' left eyelid. The left side of his face was especially swollen with the poison. His right eye remained fixed and stared blankly at Hercules. Thinner, less swollen scratches crisscrossed Iolaus' face, chest and arms like an Athenian roadmap. "Aphrodite told me what happened," Hercules answered briefly.
"Oh great," Iolaus said in affront. "Aphrodite is here?"
"Hi, Sweetcheeks," Aphrodite called out demurely. She had tried to keep Hercules from coming to the rescue of Iolaus, but the demigod insisted.
Knowing Iolaus' love for the demigod, but also recognizing the hunter's need for his independence, Iolaus would have a difficult time refusing his partner's help. Hercules, whose intentions she knew were good, would only muck up everything with his innate over-protectiveness. She tried to delay Hercules as long as she could, and seeing the unsettled frown on Iolaus' face, Aphrodite decided it was time for a hasty exit.
"Do you hear that?" Aphrodite asked as she lifted her head to the heavens.
"Hear what?" Hercules answered.
"It sounds to me like daddy dearest is calling. Got to blow, bro," she answered and then disappeared in a shower of pink sparks.
And then in an ethereal voice. Aphrodite warned, "You promised, Hercules."
"Promised what?" Iolaus asked.
"Nothing. I just owe Aphrodite a favor," Hercules lied.
The woman with a face that only a swamp monster could love ran into her cabin as quickly as her assaulted body would let her. Once in, she threw open her cape and stood in the middle of the room gently clutching her side. A red spot on her sage colored dress continued to grow as it absorbed the blood from her reopened wound.
Breccia stood by the side of the bed and watched the slow seepage of blood on the dress. She may not have seen a monster before, but she had seen blood, and the blood that was staining Nicaea's dress was the same color that lined Iolaus' scratches or even Breccia's skinned knee. She could tell by Nicaea's grimace, that the woman was in pain.
The vindictive goddess that was in love with Orionis did her best to destroy Nicaea's life. Artemis turned her into a half-human monster and then held her prisoner of the forest. But in an effort to give false hope to the young hunter, Artemis attached two provisions to her spell. Nicaea would be allowed to leave the forest if the beasts of the forest were extinguished, and she could find someone to love her in her cursed, abominable form. In the lonely hostility of the forest. Artemis knew the odds were against Nicaea.
"You bleeding bad," Breccia said as she slowly walked up to Nicaea and pointed to her injury. The young girl seemed no longer afraid of Nicaea, but more afraid of the wound to her side.
"You think?" Nicaea answered half in jest. She sucked in a large gulp of air as she carefully removed her hand from her wound.
"It'll be alright." Breccia announced as she looked up at Nicaea. She wanted to give the woman a hug, like her mother would give her when she was hurting, but Nicaea seemed reluctant to accept any touch. Even so, Breccia wrapped her arms around the cursed woman's leg in comfort.
Nicaea looked down, surprised at the young girl's showing of affection. She dropped her scaled and webbed hand to stroked the young girl's hair, "Yes, I know. It'll be alright," she said trying to soothe the child who was trying so hard to comfort her.
"Nicaea's a good monster," Breccia said as she looked back up at Nicaea. Then the young girl dropped her arms from around the Nicaea's limb and in steely determination announced, "I get Lolaus."
A moment later, the young girl pounded toward the door. Before Nicaea could protest, Breccia was gone.
Nicaea collapsed in her chair as she spoke to the empty air. "No, Breccia, don't get Iolaus."
Hercules was relieved that Iolaus was alive, but by the looks of his distended face, he held little hope that his partner would ever see again. After seeing Iolaus in the condition he was in, Hercules was afraid he would have to break his promise to his little sister. The demigod had promised Aphrodite that he would let Iolaus decide for himself if he was ready to leave the forest.
Trying to ease the worry that was evident in his voice, the demigod asked, "Do you feel as bad as you look?"
"I don't know. How do I look?" Iolaus asked. He silently resented Hercules' evident scrutiny.
"Bad," he said. His hands still gripped his partner's arms.
"Oh, I see," Iolaus answered and sniggered a bit, trying to make light of his current situation. He could feel Hercules' strong grip. "You know, Herc, you can let go of me now," he said slightly perturbed.
"Oh yeah, right," the demigod said as he unleashed his tight grip. "It's good to see you."
"Wish I could say the same." Iolaus answered as he turned away from Hercules. "Where's Nicaea?"
"She saw me and ran inside," Hercules said and then mused thoughtfully under his breath, "First time I ever got that reaction."
"Welcome to the club," Iolaus answered recalling Breccia's first contact with the hunter. He was concerned about Nicaea, but he was also wondered as to why Hercules would come into the forest to find him. "Herc, why are you really here?"
"Iolaus, I was worried about you. No one in the village had seen you in days," Hercules announced.
The scowl on Iolaus' face told the demigod that the admission was not what Iolaus needed to hear. "Didn't Aphrodite tell you I was okay?"
"Well, yes," Hercules protested, "but look at you?" Hercules answered, continuing his sight-filled euphemisms and kicking himself every time he would use one. "Come on, Iolaus. How well can you be? You're blind. And it's clear your friend, Nicaea, isn't taking care of you. Your face isn't even bandaged."
"Can't stand to look at me, eh?" Iolaus answered. "As a matter of fact, Nicaea wants the bandages back on. I'm the one who took them off. I'm alive, Hercules, and have Nicaea to thank for that. But even blind I can see you didn't trust me to take care of myself."
"If you say she saved your life, then I owe Nicaea my gratitude, but I'd feel better if you'd let me take you back to the village or we can get Aesclepius to look at your injuries."
"I`m okay Herc, but I can't right now, Nicaea needs me."
"And I don't? Iolaus, you`re not thinking this out. You're my partner and my friend, and I`m not going to let you stay in the forest alone. It's not safe. What about these so called beasts? I heard they would..."
Iolaus interrupted him by holding his hand up to Hercules in protest. "Let me guess, eat me so much as to look at me? First of all, I know what I'm doing. As for being your partner, do you really want a blind man to watch your back?
"Now you're not being fair. You're also my friend, my best friend." Hercules stated.
Iolaus knew the statement was unfair, but the hunter also resented Hercules' constant need to rescue him out of trouble. It had been that way since they were kids. Even then, the demigod tried to dictate what Iolaus should do. He feared Hercules would react differently because of his blindness, and the protectiveness his friend was displaying was just the succoring Iolaus did not need at the moment.
Their conversation was stopped when Breccia ran out of the cabin and headed straight for Iolaus. She stopped just inches from Iolaus and looked up into his swollen face.
"Nicaea's hurt real bad," Breccia said as she tugged on Iolaus' hand beckoning him to follow her.
"See? Nicaea needs me," Iolaus answered to Hercules Breccia began pulling Iolaus toward the cabin.
Iolaus was determined to help the benefactor that helped him, so he tried one more time to make his stubborn friend and partner acquiesce. "Hercules, you of all people should know why I need to be here. It'll only be a couple of days. Until Nicaea gets better. What can possibly happen in two days?"
"Iolaus," Hercules responded back, but even through the swelling, Hercules could see the determined look on his partner's face. Iolaus' mind was made up, at least for the time being.
Hercules followed closely behind Iolaus, still wary of his wobbly stance. As they passed by the dead beast not far from the front door of the cabin, Iolaus stopped and pointed to the putrefying animal before him.
"Oh, and see?" he said as Breccia pulled closer to him. "I killed the last of the beasts this morning. I even managed to rescue Breccia."
"This morning?" Hercules asked incredulously.
"You have been busy," Hercules said to himself in affirmation as he sidestepped the dead beast and continued to follow Iolaus, this time a few more paces away.
"That's right. This morning. They won't be attacking anyone anymore. So you have nothing to worry about. I can take care of myself."
Breccia continued her pull on Iolaus' arm. As the two approached the cabin, Hercules could see that Iolaus was more confident in his step. It was clear to the demigod that Iolaus now had his bearings.
Without knowing it, Iolaus accomplished the first condition for release of Artemis' spell. He eliminated the last of the bloodthirsty beasts that kept Nicaea prisoner. In addition, Breccia's unconditional love and concern for Nicaea accomplished the second of Artemis' expiatory offerings. Inside the cabin, the spell had been broken. After thirteen years of growth, the scaly skin on Nicaea's left side was slowly disappearing. The barbells on her head were being replaced by golden brown tendrils.
Hercules fought against the feeling that Iolaus didn't need his help. Even blind, Hercules could see that Iolaus was still a capable hunter and his handicap had not dampened his desire to help those in need. Still, the demigod had been aiding people since he was a boy and the will to leave his stubborn partner without an offer of assistance in some way could not pass Hercules by.
When they reached the doorway to the cabin, Hercules caught up to Iolaus and put a reassuringly hand on his shoulder. Sighing in resignation, he asked, "If you won't go, what can I do to help?"
"If you want to help," Iolaus prefaced, "then take Breccia back to the village. I'm sure her mother is worried about her."
"What about you?" Hercules asked.
Iolaus almost sighed in exasperation. "Just take care of Breccia. When you get back then we can talk about me. Hercules, I've got to go. Nicaea needs me." Iolaus reiterated again.
Before going back into the cabin, Iolaus turned and bent down so that he was roughly the same height as Breccia. Breccia still clutched his hand.
"Breccia, I want you to do a favor for me," Iolaus pleaded
"What is it, Lolaus?" she asked.
"This is my best friend, Hercules. I want you to go with him. He's going to take you back to your mother."
"He is?" Breccia asked, her eyes wide with excitement. She gave Iolaus a big hug.
"That's right." Iolaus answered as he returned the hug.
"Tell Nicey bye for me," Breccia petitioned.
"I will," Iolaus answered back as he released the hold he had on the little girl.
"Iolaus, are you sure about this?" Hercules asked as Breccia walked over and slipped her hand into the palm of the demigod.
"She needs to get home, Herc, and I'm in no condition to take her there myself."
"We can do it together," Hercules answered trying one more time to convince his partner it was safer to go. "We'll even take Nicaea."
Iolaus chuckled, "Don't you think you're taking on a little more than you can chew? A toddler, a blind man and Nicaea." he hesitated briefly, "Oh, look who I'm talking to, you're Hercules," he answered half in jest. "Besides, Nicaea won't go. Just get Breccia back home."
"I still don't like this," Hercules protested.
"I know," Iolaus answered, "but you'll do it anyway."
"Yes. You know me too well," Hercules answered back, "I'll be back just as soon as I can."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Hercules bent down and rested on his heels. "So Breccia, how do you feel about piggy back rides? Hercules asked.
To Breccia's excited nods, the demigod quickly hoisted her up and let her rest on his shoulders.
Tightly holding her hands above his head, he turned back to Iolaus.
"Are you sure," he asked once again hoping his partner would change his mind.
"Yeah," Iolaus answered as he waved in the direction of his friends voice. "Now go."
He could hear Hercules begin to move off and then stop. He imagined the demigod turning back. Iolaus half expected the demigod to change his mind again and challenge his decision. In an impetus to keep Hercules moving, Iolaus called, "Hey, Herc. While you're giving her a piggy back ride, tell her the story of how you got turned into a pig. She'll love it."
"I'll take it under advisement." Hercules smiled as he began his trip back to the village.
Iolaus hesitated only a few moments before he quietly entered the cabin.
Even through the chattering teeth of her fevered chills, Nicaea heard him cross the threshold. She turned around in her chair just far enough to see him stop at the doorway unsure if it was safe to enter.
"I told Breccia not to get you," Nicaea said and then noticed the child was not with Iolaus. "Where is she?"
"I asked Hercules to take her back to the village," he answered and then hesitated, "How are you doing?"
"I reopened the wound."
Iolaus approached Nicaea. "Bad?"
"Bad. I tried to put some healing salve on it, but I couldn't reach it."
"Then let me do it," Iolaus offered. Through the silence of the room he added, "You know, if you're worried about me seeing something," he hesitated as he waved a finger toward his eyes, "I promise, I won't look."
"Why did you come back?" Nicaea asked. There was no admonition in her voice, only a gentle curiosity. "Why didn't you leave with Breccia and Hercules?"
"Because you needed my help."
"Then you don't care that I'm a monster? Just as Breccia said I was?"
Iolaus chuckled, "You're not a monster, and I've seen plenty of them to know."
"You can't see," Nicaea said, stating the obvious.
"Point taken, then let me rephrase it. I know you`re not a monster," the blind hunter bent down and found her scaled left hand. It was resting on the chair's arm. He squeezed it reassuringly.
"What you look like on the outside doesn't make you a monster on the inside. The face of a beautiful woman can hide a cruel heart, and even the most vicious beast will love its young. You risked your life twice to save Breccia and myself. That's hardly the act of a monster."
"But what Artemis did to me..." Nicaea began.
"What did Artemis do to you?" he asked, and then admitted, "She turned me into a deer once."
Through the pain, Nicaea laughed. It was a weak, ironic laugh, but encouraging by its very sound. Nicaea was comforted to know that Iolaus could understand the nature of her curse. So few mortals had any real contact with the gods. As benevolent as they could be, they generally had a reputation of being cruel and mean spirited when crossed.
"I wish it were as simple as being turned into a deer, or a tree, or even a bug. Then I might be passed off as a part of nature. But as I am now, I am far from ordinary. Jealousy is a very primal emotion, and I shamed Artemis by my mastery in archery and retaining the lust of Orionis. In a fit of rage, Artemis cursed the left side of my body but kept the right as it was, as I once was. She wanted to remind me everyday of what I had done, and what I had become."
"So what?" Iolaus questioned indignantly, "you're going to let her win by allowing this infection take your life?" Iolaus asked, "Where's the medicine that you used on me," He turned and began to fumble for the smelly ointment. He knocked over the bread basket and a couple of candles from the table in his search.
Nicaea was sure the deft hunter was trying to create havoc in an misguided effort for her to acquiesce. In his search, he was systematically destroying her cabin.
Finally, Iolaus heard a long, languished sigh before Nicaea responded, "There's some salve left over on the small table next to the bed."
"Now you're talking," Iolaus answered as he quit his blind rifling of the larger table and gracefully walked over to the small table by the bed.
The red poultice was sealed in a wide-mouthed, wooden jar. Iolaus opened the container and smelled the familiar but rancid ointment.
Nicaea got up from her chair, suppressing a moan. The wound had created a large stain on her dress as the opened sore refused to clot. The poison from the bite had compromised the clotting.
She slowly walked over to the bed, noting absently how strange her feet felt against the wooden floor of the cabin.
"The medicine was designed to draw out the poison from the widow's thorn. It wasn't meant to fight off an infection, " Nicaea stated as she sat on the bed voicing another audible groan.
Iolaus scooped up some ointment with his fingers. "Well, it can't do any harm, can it?" he asked and then added, "assuming the smell doesn't kill you."
Iolaus smiled warily to try to ease her burden.
Nicaea tried to smile back, but could only muster a smirk through her pain. She lifted up the corner of her dress to expose the raw flesh underneath.
"Where should I start?" Iolaus asked, as he knelt down beside her. She guided his hand close to the wound at her side.
"It begins here and then goes to my back," she answered.
Nicaea prepared herself for the onslaught of pain from the cold poultice. As Iolaus' hand touched the sensitive flesh, Nicaea sucked in a large breath of air and slowly released it.
Iolaus could feel the jagged edge of the wound which was caused by the many displaced scales that had replaced her skin there. He followed the scurfy ridge toward Nicaea's back. Twice he had to reapply the ointment to his fingers, but several tortured minutes later, Iolaus was finished. He completed his aid to Nicaea by taking a corner of the bed linen and tearing off a strip as a bandage.
Being as gentle as he could, Iolaus wrapped the bandage around her midsection. When he was finished, Nicaea let out an extended breath, glad that the palliative treatment was finally complete.
Delicately, Nicaea pulled the hem of the dress over her wound and got up from the bed with another tempered groan.
"Where are you going?" Iolaus asked in admonition.
"Back to my chair," Nicaea answered pointing to the wooden seat next to the fire.
"Oh no," Iolaus answered back as he grabbed her shoulders as gently as he could. With a firm push, he forced her back on the bed. "you're getting the bed tonight. I'll take the chair."
"Iolaus, I'm fine, really."
"Uh, uh, uh," he answered back, shaking his finger at her. He grabbed the wool blanket from the foot of the bed and pulled it up toward his patient.
"Fine," Nicaea answered understanding that he meant business. She pulled her legs up from the floor and scooped them under the covering. She laid on her uninjured side, staring into the fire.
Iolaus walked over to the chair by the hearth and sat down. His only regret at the moment was that he couldn't verify that Nicaea was sleeping, so he listened and waited to hear the rhythmic sounds of her breathing, breathing that signified a restful sleep.
Iolaus had wished that sleep could have come to him so quickly, but he continued to mull over the conversation that he had with Hercules earlier in the day. The demigod would be back sometime the next day and they would have to talk again. His thoughts were all a jumble. Iolaus wasn't sure what he would tell Hercules. He knew he couldn't be his best friend's partner anymore, but he didn't want to imagine his life any differently, either. He also didn't want Hercules to pity him. Iolaus was a proud, independent man and the demigod's forbearance would probably kill him.
Iolaus wiped his face as if trying to rid himself of his destructive and sleep depriving thoughts. As he did so, he noticed his face was less swollen than it was when he awoke that morning. Hopefully optimistic that he could delay his decision to Hercules, Iolaus soon found himself drifting off.
Iolaus woke to a bright light assaulting his eyes. It took him a few moment to realize it was the light from the cabin's lone window.
It was morning, but as if that wasn't astounding enough, Iolaus could see it was morning, well, at least in one eye. His right eye still remained sightless. Iolaus' first response was to tell Hercules the good news, and then of course, he realized his partner was not there.
Iolaus made a cursory glance around the cabin. The stark and primitively framed wooden structure was pretty much how he imagined it would be.
Then his eyes stopped on Nicaea. She was still asleep in her bed. The description that Nicaea painted of herself the evening before matched nothing to the image that rested on the bed.
Long tendrils of golden brown hair framed a delicate face with soft features. Her skin was smooth and no longer scurfy, with a peaches and cream complexion. His eyes followed her frame and he quickly noticed the deep curve of her waist and the well muscled structure of the leg that peeked out from beneath the covers. Somehow in the middle of the night, the spell was broken.
Iolaus walked his chair over to Nicaea as she began to stir from her sleep.
She opened her eyes to Iolaus sitting right next to her.
"You're a sight for sore eye." Iolaus responded as he grinned widely. Then he followed with, "how did you sleep."
Nicaea gingerly pulled herself up from the bed. She was still very sore. "Good. Good," she answered, "I think the fever broke." Then she hesitated and an equally wide grin crossed her mouth. "Whoa, back up. What did you just say?"
"How'd you sleep?" Iolaus answered toying with her.
"No, before that."
"You're a sight for sore eye?"
"You can see?" Nicaea asked incredulous.
"That's not the only miracle that occurred last night. Look at your hand," Iolaus said as he pointed to her left hand. The palm of her left hand was on the bed, still supporting her weary body.
Nicaea looked over to the hand Iolaus was pointing to. Gone was the webbed extensions that connected the base of her fingers. Gone was the grayish-green color, and gone was the scaly ridges.
She moved her hand to her face. Her shaking hand touched her face lightly. "The curse?." Nicaea asked.
"You're beautiful," Iolaus answered, "but I already knew that."
Please post a comment on this story.
|
|
|
