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The Thief's Tale
by Taz
Author's notes: Remove this tag under penalty of law.
You want to buy it, sell it, swap it, steal it, deal it or feel it? The Harbor Fair in Corinth is the place to go. It's all there, four times a year, but best is in the spring when the winter storms are over and the Mediterranean shipping starts up again.
Diplomats, mercenaries and traders descend on Greece like locusts on a ripe field of wheat. You get your peddlers selling spices and silks from Chin. You get your horse traders down from Thrace to cheat you on a painted nag. Your farmers to short weight you. Blacksmiths to over-charge you. Women to give you the clap. Gods and kings and thieves to rob you. And that's where I come in. I'm a thief. I mean, I used to -- What do you mean, you don't think a god would rob you? Ask my cousin. She's lost her virginity to Zeus twice at that fair -- at least he had a really big thunderbolt and said his name was Zeus -- skipped without paying the second time.
As I was saying, I used to be a thief. But here it was -- spring -- and the fair was on. And there I was -- nursing the hangover from Hades in a beer garden miles from Corinth -- in seriously in danger of pecuniary embarrassment. The publican looked like the kind of guy who hangs the bodies of deadbeats on hooks in the cellar -- arms like logs and a face like one particular son of Poseidon.
A former thief is never without resources. I had a cunning plan to distract the Cyclops, nail him with my mug and high tail it over the garden wall. If fact I was just about to declaim, "Behold! The Winged Victory of Samothrace!" when down the road comes a drover with a bunch of piglets. The little brown hairy ones with big ears. And who's ambulating in the middle of them? None other than that bashful answer to many a maiden's prayer (if their fathers only knew), our glorious King Iphicles' brother, that famous national hero and offender of the faith, that all `round do-gooder, demigod and general pain in the ass, my old friend, Hercules. The shoats were frisking around him like he was their mommy. Just in time too, Polyphemus was starting to hyperventilate.
There is a god of thieves and I'll have to steal something for him one of these days.
"Herc!" I shouted. "Ol' buddy! Over here."
"Autolycus!" Hercules started for the garden wall and the little picnics all followed him. "What a surprise."
"Say, you never do know who you'll run into in these parts. Got time for a drink? Pull up a bench. Or are you in a hurry to be somewhere with your friends?"
"No, I've got time." He turned to the piglets. "I'll stop by and see you later, guys. Bye--Niobe. Bye, Pollux. Bye, Castor. Bye Aegisthus... Euridike, Clio, Moira... " He even said good-by to the pig herder. He's gotta get over the pig thing one of these days. Every patron was staring.
"Old friends?" I said, as he threw one of those long legs over the wall.
"New friends. Met `em on the road," he said.
Having pegged Herc as solvent, the barkeep was right there with a foaming mug before Herc had even sat down.
"I believe, I'll have another, my good man," I said.
Polyphemus did not look impressed.
"Let me," Hercules said.
Herc's generous, very un-godlike. It had been a while since we'd seen each other and who am I to deprive anyone of an opportunity to know me better. We sat drinking and making small talk. I noticed the blond pest wasn't with him. "Curly suffering a lapse of life?"
"I'm meeting Iolaus at the Virgin Goddess."
"Ah, Corinth," I said. "Special occasion?"
"It would be the occasion of the spring fair, Autolycus. I'm surprised you're not there."
"Oh, you know, that trouble I have with crowds..."
"So easy to find your hand in the pocket of someone else's coat?"
"As a matter of fact, I am on my way to Corinth."
"Autolycus--"
I cut him off before he could get the wind behind it. "Herc, before you wound me, you should know that before you is a changed man. Thanks to your influence, I've seen the error of my ways. I've embarked on a new profession."
"And that would be?"
"Dealer in rarities -- objects of art and virtue for the discriminating collector. In fact, I'm carrying out a commission for a wealthy patron in Corinth even as we speak."
Herc really shouldn't squint that way -- it makes his eyes go all small and piggy.
"I'll walk with you," he said.
I beamed on the clever child. He squinted harder.
There was no reason for him to be suspicious -- I mean, who better for a traveling companion? The highways and byways of Greece are notoriously dangerous for solitary pilgrims and the sight of Herc's mighty thews (and the muscles attached to them) would make any brigand think twice. Even three times. Objectively speaking he's too big but Zeus's little boy isn't bad looking -- if you like them square-jawed and manly.
Normally I don't, but funny how a guy can change. We're not two miles down the road and I can't take my eyes off the seat of his pants. There's something bewitching about legs that go from here to there and back again by the scenic route. Oh, his shoulders and arms are well enough. And the bulge in his crotch has always suggested some impressive tackle. But, oh, those pants! My cock was composing a paean to polished leather -- lust takes me that way -- and that's when it occurred to me, I'd never seen him take them off.
"Something on my pants?" He was checking the back of them.
"No. No. Swell pants. Who's your tailor?"
"My mother."
What was Alcmene thinking when she sewed those things? Two belts. All those knots. How does he...? In an emergency, I mean. Those things must be worse than a chastity belt. I can see her not trusting Zeus, but sheesh! Give a 'normal' guy a break.
Speaking of normal, we'd consumed a goodly amount of ale before hitting the road and Herc hadn't visited the necessary before we left. I had, and paused to commune with nature twice since then. When the road took a turn along the river, I happened to say, "Just look at all that water. Running... flowing... gushing... spouting... spurting...."
He said, "Yeah. This would be a good place for a mill."
Guy's not even half-human.
Finally, after another three miles, Herc announced he'd got to see a man about a chimera and headed off into the bushes. I discovered an urge to check out the same myth and followed.
He was behind a tree, pants around his ass, drowning the weeds. Nonchalantly unlacing my own drawers, I strolled up and joined him. Two guys together, out in the wilderness.
"Great day for a hike," I say, hose in hand. "Fresh air. Nature at it's finest."
"Yes it is." He kept his eyes on all that natural nature. It wasn't flattering but it allowed me to sneak a peek. You know they coined the term "Herculean" for it?
"Speaking of nature," I said, "how do you and Iolaus manage on those long wilderness journeys?"
"Manage?"
"You know -- nature. You guys give each other a hand?"
"Sure. Iolaus catches the rabbits and I do the cooking."
"You do the cock-- I mean cooking?"
"Yes. My mother taught me."
This was going to be a challenge -- but then I already knew that. Casually, I mention how I'm looking forward to Dour Sally's place in Corinth where the girls have the sweetest, tightest, juiciest...the roundest, softest, most delicate... but, you know, it's been so long since I've had `any' that I might be a danger to the tender fairs. After all, a man's got needs that only another man can understand.
With a smug little smile on his puss, like demigods don't have that problem, he says I should consider getting married. I've been married and let me tell you...
It took him twice as long as me to tuck it in and, I swear, he blushed. What--?
Oh, blow it out your ear. See, with me, it's the challenge of the thing.
Back on the road. A few more miles. With the sun over the yard-arm, I notice there's a wet stripe down the back of Herc's shirt. "Tad warm for this time of year."
He stretched his arms, let the muscles ripple, and said, "Beautiful."
"That water sure looks refreshing."
"Yes, it does."
Subtle being wasted, I said, "How `bout a swim?"
"Maybe later."
Talk about obtuse. The handsomest, most daring, debonair and clever thief in the world is inviting him to go wading -- and he keeps walking. In fact, he picked up the pace. I had to trot to keep up. "Hey Herc, what's the hurry?"
"I have an appointment tonight."
"Yeah? Dining on your brother?"
His head whipped around so fast he almost dislocated my neck. "What?"
"Eating with Iphicles?"
"Autolycus, what's with all the questions?"
My. My. We are jumpy today.
This was promising -- an assignation at the palace? A rendezvous with royalty? Maybe, the rumors are true -- the imperial halberd is humping the hero and that's why Iphicles hasn't been in a hurry to get hitched. My own scepter swelled at the thought. "Be sure and sit down wind."
"What are you talking about?"
"Only a real pal would tell you -- but Herc, you've got an air about you."
That took a minute. Isn't it sweet the way he blushes.
"Pig?" He sniffed his shirt and armpit.
"Let's say `eau de porc' -- since we're dining at the palace."
"I guess I better take a bath," he said.
Isn't it fortunate there's a whole river for him to bathe in? I'm such a stinker.
Displaying the delicate sensitivity I'm known for, I told him to go right ahead while I take a nap under this tree, right here, and plopped down so he could slip into the cattails. When I heard the splashing, I rolled over, crawled around the tree, slithered in the reeds and peeked. Oh, mama! I know why Salmoneus is always after him to enter nude wrestling contests. It was a work of art -- `Hercules by Praxiteles -- with bubbles.' Oh, to be the sponge traveling over that terrain. I'd have lingered in the Alps forever. But there I was, squirming in the mud, and if ever there was a soap-on-a-rope kind of guy... It occurred to me some dishonest person could easily snag the peddle pushers he'd left neatly folded on a rock.
All it took was hickory wand with a notch on the end. They were mine and I was away into the bushes where I made the classic mistake of pausing to scrutinize the prize. Let me tell you, those things are built to carry the load. Heavy, smooth, well-oiled sheepskin, redolent of mink oil, Old Trojan Body Splash and -- he wears the same pair every day -- just the funk and feel of that hide under my hands and I was tenting my trews.
"Autolycus!"
Oops! Baby Blue had caught me with the goods in hand. So to speak.
"What are you doing with my pants?" He'd got his shirt tied around his hips, for Hermessake!
If I have a personal failing (and I'm not admitting that I do) it's that I'm too modest.
"Herc! I've been lusting after you all afternoon -- I couldn't help myself. If I couldn't possess you, I had to touch some part of you."
There was a rumble as of distant thunder.
"Lusting after me!" He looked around wildly. Maybe he expected his friends to pop out of the bushes shouting 'surprise!' "You can't mean it!"
I took a step toward him. "Yes, you stunning hunk of demi-godhood. I do."
"Autolycus, we are not having this conversation!"
"I love it when you're masterful!"
He backed up with that deer-caught-in-the-torchlight look.
"What in Hades is wrong with you today?"
"I told you. I believe you changed my life."
"Just toss me my pants, and we'll forget this ever happened."
"How can I forget? After what we've been to each other?"
"Try."
Actually, I'm thinking this is pretty funny. He's got that shirt clutched over his privates like I'm about to rape him, and his teats were as tight as buds. The effect of a cool breeze on damp skin and...all of a sudden, I realized the temperature had dropped. It was getting dark and cold and rain was coming in big heavy drops, like some god was pissing on us. It really hurt but I handed over the leather. "Here. Take them. But it could have been beautiful."
"It would be nice to think so."
It was fun watching him skin into them, trying to hide his cock in case some passing stranger might have a religious experience.
The rain continued, but it was only another mile or so to the outskirts of Corinth and the Virgin Goddess Tavern. Iolaus had booked a room. We checked in, grabbed a bottle and went upstairs to dry off. I've known Herc long enough to know that he's too good-natured to hold a grudge and far too much of a gentleman not to mention my faux pas more than forty or fifty times but he was awfully quiet as we climbed the stairs. Reconsidering my offer? Maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all.
Where there's a box, there's hope, as Pandora would say. The room was neat, cozy even, and with some people ambiance is everything.I had just shut the door behind us, when, with a sizzle and a crack of blue lightning, Ares, God of War was filling the space.
Maybe that was a bag of licorice in is his hand, but all I saw was the sword on his thigh. When he said, "Mortal, if you want to live..." I beat the hare getting through the door. Just before it slammed I heard Herc say, "Ares! You can't... "
Oh, yes, he can!
Expecting a fiery explosion at any moment, I only stopped at the bar to pick up another bottle. (Did you think I didn't pick his pockets?) when I noticed that the building was still standing. It was quiet...too quiet. I popped the cork, sat down and ordered dinner -- the jugged hedgehog at the Virgin Goddess is excellent.
I should mention the balcony on the second floor. I've used it on occasion going the other way, but skinning up it was no problem. I kept my head down and crawled under the window ledges until I came to the right room and peered over the sill. There they were -- Ares had Herc on the floor. On his knees. And he was furious. Really giving it to him! "Whose baby are you?" Ares was shouting. "Tell me who gives you the bone!"
"You do," Herc was saying. "I'm your baby, Ares."
There were bright red palm prints on Herc's ass and that thick cock of Ares's was sliding in and out... Hot? Yeah! But, best of all, Herc's pants were hanging over a chair right near the window. All I had to do was reach. And those fucking gods never even noticed.
Later that night, I kept my appointment with the chief eunuch of the harem of the Phrygian ambassador. They were on their way to Athens and, believe me, it was a near thing -- the horses were hitched and stamping -- that train was ready to roll. I gave him the package. He handed me a bag of gold and ordered me to wait. At the back of the most lavishly decorated wagon, I saw him slip it under the canvas curtains.
I guess the goods checked out, because he came back with disapproval writ large on his face. "Thief, my mistress would speak with you."
"Ex-thief," I said. No reason for him to be like that -- I had the stones -- all he had was job security.
As I approached the wagon, a corner of the curtain lifted and the sweet smell of jasmine poured out. Those Phrygian women are rumored to be the most beautiful in the world. But they're kept sequestered and I could only imagine coffee dark eyes and black cherry lips. But I saw the delicate hand that passed me a tortoise shell comb encrusted with rubies and heard a bell-like voice say, "You have done well, Thief."
I just stood there, listening to excited squeals of laughter as the wagons began to roll. She can call me anything she likes.
And I guess Herc's mom made him another pair.
Finis.
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