The Trials of Hercules (49 page)

“How are you, cousin?”

“A little sore at times, but mostly back to my old self.”

“Then I feel sorry for the Herenes.”

“They love me. You’ve heard the bells?”

“Yes, what’s going on?”

“Eury’s planned some sort of ceremony for you to present a gift to Adneta, but Maxinia and I have come up with other plans. You need to listen to—”

Iolalus is cut off by a group of centaurs rushing forward to shake my hand. They offer congratulations to me and mutter something to Iolalus I can’t make out. He nods and they flank us as we make our way through the streets. I have no chance to ask him what is happening as people swarm us on route to the arena. They shy away from Cerby at first, but then become curious as her tongues give them welcoming licks on their hands. More than one bows to us, calls us heroes, says they are behind us. I give a questioning look to Iolalus.

“Your fame has grown since you’ve been gone. I’ve made sure of that. Flyers have been appearing in mailboxes telling of what you’ve done. And what you haven’t done. I can explain more—”

Iolalus’s words are cut off as Eury’s horses barrel past us, nearly crashing into the hoard of people gathered around Cerby. The carriage clatters to a halt at the back of the arena. I crane my neck trying to see if the contraption contains Iole. I need to know she is alive, that she is safe. I need to see her one last time. But the crowd is too thick and blocks my view.

As we near the structure, my stomach clenches with nerves. Apprehension of what I must do seizes me. Everything in me says to run, but I need to complete this. When this dog is in Eury’s hands, my tribute will be complete. I will be free. And what will I do with that freedom? Join the coup? Kill Eury on my own?  It makes no difference as long as Eury’s reign is ended.

“Look Herc,” Iolalus says distracting me from my thoughts as we approach the back entrance. The centaurs fall back, lingering at the doorway. “Eury's arranged this little gathering so you can present that creature to Adneta. I've no idea what the point is but I wouldn't trust it.”

“He's trying to make her seem the goddess of Portaceae. The hero's great deeds have all been for her.”

“Hera will appreciate that I'm sure.”

I have no desire to speak of Hera. I have decided my course regarding her. Right now there are more pressing matters occupying my thoughts. On the train ride back from the Chasm, I came up with dozens of scenarios of how to rid Portaceae of Eury and had settled on none of them. But the trumpets blaring to announce Eury’s entrance their noise spark a plan.

In the arena, when I present Cerby to Adneta, Eury will be near at hand. I glance to Cerby’s leash and let my clenching grip on it loosen. On the dais it will be no problem to drop the leash while handing Cerby over. The dog will have surprise on her side and I’m already familiar with her speed and ferocity. The three heads only need one chance to latch onto Eury and Portaceae will be free of her ruinous Solon. It is treason, it goes against everything I’ve been trained to do, but yet it will defend the polis. And that is the true job of the vigiles.

Inside the tunnel, I stop and turn to Iolalus.

“Iolalus, I have a plan. It's dangerous but believe me when I say I know you'll make a great—”

“No, Herc, I’ve already got—”

“Herc, Herc my love,” a woman’s call drowns out Iolalus’s words. Deianira’s mound of hair jogs its way through the crowd that has gathered at the rear door. The scrawny body attached to the hair flings itself at me and clings to my arm.

“Deianira,” I say plainly. “You've been well.” I push her back gently.

“I am now. Oh Herc, you'll come home with me tonight. I'll give you the greatest pleasure. You won't want to leave my bed.”

“I'm uncertain if I'll be coming home tonight,” I say as I turn to Iolalus. In a deft move similar to that of removing the horses’ hobbles, I dip down, snatch the dagger from his boot, and tuck it into my belt.

“Herc, no—” Iolalus calls as I slip through the passageway to the dais. Deianira is close on my heels.

“You will come home,” she barks. “This tribute business is done. You will not return to the House of Hera. You will not return to that Iole.”

No, I won't. If Cerby fails to kill Eury, I will have to take him myself with the dagger. And I will either be killed on the spot by his guards or sent under for treason. And this is the only thought that gives me pause. Not that I fear dying. I am a vigile. I have been trained to die for my polis if needed. But if I die I will never hold Iole again. I will never have a chance to ask her forgiveness. I will never make love to her.

But even if I live, will any of these things happen?

I peer out to the dais but don’t step out onto it. The bright light after being in the tunnel blinds me momentarily, giving me pause, giving me one more chance to reconsider my actions. Before I can form a single thought, Eury steps in front of me, shading me with his body as his foot taps an impatient beat.

“It's about time. Now when I say—”

He details the event he has planned. The words bounce off me as I allow the leash to slacken. The temptation to loose Cerby gnaws at me.

Drop the leash. No one would know what really happened.

But the risk is too great. Iolalus stands just behind me, and Deianira blocks any chance of escape. Cerberus could turn and take them or me instead of Eury. As much as I hate it, I have to wait. I need the right opportunity and this is not it.

When Eury finishes, he leaves to take his place to announce us. I turn to Iolalus.

“Stay clear of me and the dog.”

His mouth gapes as if about to say something and he places a halting hand on my arm. Before he can get his words out, Eury shouts my name and I head through. The noise of the crowd nearly knocks me over and Cerberus gives a loud bark in response. As the audience gasps, I scan the dais as if sizing up the battlefield. 

My assessment only gets as far as the left side of the dais. Two of Eury's guards grip Iole by her upper arms. She meets my eyes and smiles warmly but weakly. Again, I’m flooded with doubt that I can do what I have in mind. I could easily hand over the dog as I am supposed to. I would be free from my tribute and move to Deianira’s where I would have to play the part of her husband. I would be alive and I would see Iole each day. Even to love her from afar could sustain me.

But Portaceae deserves better than Eury Stephanos as her Solon. I cannot falter. I mouth, “I love you.” Her smile strengthens and my heart swells inside my chest.

The moment is broken when Deianira pushes past me muttering, “Ridiculous.” She takes a place on the right side of the dais as if she belongs there just as much as the royal couple, the Solonian Guards, the head priestess of the Herenes, and the commander of the vigiles. Somehow, her confident attitude sends a wariness through me I tell myself to ignore. She is not the threat here.

Iolalus steps forward to stand near Deianira. I wonder if this is part of Eury’s stage direction or if Iolalus hopes to mollify Deianira by appearing to take her side, not Iole’s. Either way, Deianira gives an upward, prideful thrust of her chin to Iole as Iolalus holds himself at attention.

I step to the center of the dais just behind Adneta and Eury. My hands shake and my stomach feels hollow as Eury begins to speak. When he does, I have to shake my head. Although I had guessed the purpose of this gathering, I can’t believe my own ears.

“People of Portaceae, your hero has come to honor the Lady of the Polis as you all should. There will be no Herenes, there will be no Hera. This is a new age for Portaceae. Hera and the Herenes are no longer first in this polis. Solonia Adneta, Lady of the Polis is and as such, you will all do her honor. Herc Dion, present your gift so others may follow suit.”

Adneta and Eury step to either side of me. Giving myself time to assess how I will protect Iole when I release the dog, I play along and bow low to Adneta. My eyes fix at her waist, at the braids of gold, at the arrow made of diamonds, at the single ruby at the tip of the arrow. Lyta's golden belt.

Anger fumes through me. I clench the leash so tightly my hand aches. I want to drop the thing, to set the dog on the royal couple. I realize I don’t want just Eury dead, but Adneta as well. Her greed has been the cause of so much of Portaceae’s demise. It could work. The dog could take one and I could take the other. My hand flutters near the dagger, but I force it back to my side. I know can’t control the dog and wield a weapon at the same time.

“Lady of the Polis,” I say, “this beast comes from a world no man should enter. She is yours and will be a faithful friend as long as she is kept on this leash.”

With a beaming, arrogant smile she holds out her hand for the leash. I relax my grip on it, considering. I have the speed. The dog would be on her in a heartbeat and, with a quick spin, the dagger could slash Eury’s throat. The guards are there to defend Iole. But Iolalus, how fast is he with that limp? With the crowds of people, we had been forced to walk slowly here so I have no idea if he can move with any haste. I open my hand ready to let the leash slip through. Iolalus has his sword. He can defend himself.

And then the leash is being taken from me. Adneta, her lips still holding a smile, pinches her eyes with perturbed impatience at me. Once she has the leash in hand, she says, “I'm honored. And as a royal animal, she deserves royal decoration.” Adneta unclasps the belt from her waist. “This would be more appropriate for her to wear. After all, I hear it used to belong to a bitch.”

She slips the belt from her waist. I can see what is going to happen before she stoops down to do it. I jump back, bump into Eury, then step behind him to be out of Cerby’s path.

Adneta holds the belt, ready to place it on Cerberus as a collar. She unclasps the leash.

The moment the leash touches the dais, Cerberus turns from pet to monster. Her middle head, level with Adneta's face snarls and snaps taking the Solonia’s head into her jaws and shaking the newly appointed Lady of the Polis back and forth. On the third shake Adneta's neck cracks. Her struggling body goes limp. A scream bellows from the tunnel and then Baruch is running to the dais.

Baruch, his face strained with grief and anger, beats Cerby on the shoulders. One head nips at him and misses. The head that holds Adneta in its jaws drops her lifeless body. Eury staggers back, shouting to his guards to protect him. The heads fix their eyes on Baruch. Cerby lunges, silencing the servant’s wailing throat with one bite. Without a pause, Cerby collects her victims. The left head bites into Adneta’s calf, while the other two heads snarl their way into Baruch’s shoulder and thigh. Satisfied she has hold of her kills, Cerby barrels out of the arena that vibrates with a chorus of screams.

I curse the gods. I curse myself for the fact that Eury still lives. Cerby will be taking her victims to her master, but I have no time to dwell on missing the beast. As I learned to do in my early days of training, I push aside my frustration to focus on what is needed to finish this task I’ve assigned myself.

I reach for the dagger. Eury’s back is to me. It is a cowardly way to attack a man, but with everyone else on the dais frozen in shock, this may be my only chance. Eury, as if jolted with his own electricity, spins around.

“You, you did this. All of you saw this,” he shouts at me with his face pulled into a pained grimace. The audience although still in a jumble quiets to hear what he is saying. “You saw him set the beast on your Lady of Portaceae. You saw it.”

“No such thing,” someone shouts. “She let the leash go.”

The crowd begins giving shouts of agreement with the speaker and hurtling insults at Eury. In his distraction, I hover my hand over the dagger. Not wanting the guards to call out a warning or rush in to protect their master, I need to be close enough to strike before removing the blade.

“How dare you?” Eury’s voice has taken on a high, frantic pitch. “He has the nerve to take the life of someone precious to me? Fine, I will take what's precious to him.”

From behind me I hear Deianira yelp as if it is she Eury speaks of. Eury shouts to his guards, “Kill her.”

I’m two paces from Eury. I ease the blade from my boot. The guards hesitate. I move one pace forward, clutching the hilt so it won’t slip. I raise the weapon. Eury stomps away widening the gap I’ve just closed. Iole struggles under the guards’ grasp as Eury curses their hesitation. From behind me, Iolalus yells and starts across the dais. Dagger in hand, I force my body forward.

But neither Iolalus nor I are quick enough to imagine how low our cousin will sink. Nor to react in time to stop it.

Eury rips the left guard's dagger from his belt. He holds the dagger up before Iole’s panic-widened eyes. Without a thumb to grip it, the dagger looks clumsy in his hand. I’m certain he’ll drop it, that it will clatter to the dais and he will be made a fool of. But his four remaining fingers find their strength. In a move swifter than the most skilled butcher, he grasps Iole by the hair and drags the blade across her neck.

My world stops. Iole slumps in the men's arms. Blood coats the front of her cloud white gown, dressing her in the maroon of mourning. Eury wipes the blade on his tunic before handing it back to the guard who drops Iole to put the weapon away.

Like air forced through a tunnel, the world comes back to me in a rush. With Iolalus’s dagger in hand I close the distance to my cousin.

“Solon, watch out,” Deianira calls. Eury spins and ducks as lithely as a weasel.

“Seize him,” he commands as he dances aside.

The guards tackle me, slamming me into the ground. My eyes meet Iole's blank but still beautiful face. I want nothing more than to run to the Chasm to meet her there. And this time I will ask Hades to not allow me to return. Let the dead tear me apart piece by piece. It will be better than being in this world without her.

One guard jerks my left arm back forcing me to release the dagger. The other slides off me as he pins my right arm behind me. As if I’m a sack of dirty tunics, they haul me to my feet.

Eury stares at me with a look that is a mix of glee and hatred. Beside him waits Deianira with a small bottle in her hand.