DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters of Hercules and Iolaus (I wish!). No money is being made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended. Iolaus does kinda get hurt badly though.

Quote for Iolaus: "Character is what you are in the dark," Earl Mac Rauch, Buckaroo Banzai (cited from 'The Lost King' by Margaret Weiss).


KIDNAPPED

by Ruric

Chapter Two

Xena and Hercules glanced around, eyes searching desperately for Iolaus, surprised at the lack of immediate response from the gang. Hercules' gaze finally reached the table, and he saw the top of a tousled blond head, as Marius straightened in alarm, his hands fumbling at his trousers, and Stelio grabbed for a sword.

All the bandits scrambled for their weapons in the sudden panic that followed as they realised they were under attack. Hercules' horrified stare took in the scene before him. Two of the bandits launched themselves towards the demi-god, only to be stopped by the double handed punch that knocked each of them senseless.

Xena had engaged the man with the cold grey eyes and a ferocious sword battle was underway as they slashed, parried, thrust and cut at one another. She saw, with one quick glance over her shoulder, that the three remaining bandits were trying to sneak up on Hercules, who continued to stare, shocked, at Iolaus, Marius and Stelio.

She loosed the chakram from her belt and with a fluid movement flung it to bounce off the wall, neatly intercepting two of the stealthy bandits who collapsed to the floor, throats gushing blood as a result of the chakram's wickedly sharp edge. Hercules whirled at the sound and backhanded the third man across the room, for once not pulling the strength behind the blow. The body hit the wall, head impacting with a dull thud, before sliding slowly downwards leaving a bloody trail behind.

Xena lunged forward suddenly, catching the grey eyed man off guard and with a smile of satisfaction she impaled his body on her sword, almost to the hilt. His dispassionate grey eyes registered shock for a moment before clouding over and becoming lifeless. She pushed him free, and turned to face the remaining men.

Only Marius and Stelio remained standing. Stelio had his sword clutched in his fist and was advancing on Xena, as Marius moved towards Hercules, a massive axe in his large hands.

Xena taunted Stelio with a wintery smile, blue eyes glowing with the unholy light of battle, as she beckoned him forwards. "Come on, surely a *brave* man like you isn't afraid of a *mere* woman." He advanced, sweating nervously, shifting his sword from hand to hand before launching a desperate attack. The sound of their clashing swords soon filled the room.

Hercules had to duck to avoid a slicing downwards cut from Marius' axe. The bandit leader glowered into Hercules blue eyes, noting the icy calm in the demi-god's expression. "You're *far* too late Hercules," he sneered. "I don't think you'll want your little catamite back, not after we've *all* repeatedly enjoyed his special skills."

Hercules' eyes went flat and bleak at the knowing tone of Marius' voice, conscious only of the blood pounding in his ears as he perceived the true horror to which Iolaus had been exposed. He ducked under another sweeping cut and surged to his feet too close to Marius' body to allow the man to use his axe. The demi-god fastened both hands around the bandit's throat, hoisting the heavy body from the floor, as his biceps and shoulders strained to take the weight.

He tightened his grip, causing Marius' to face to turn deep red as the man struggled for breath, legs kicking at the air ineffectually. The axe dropped from his nerveless fingers with a loud clatter as Hercules continued to squeeze slowly, shaking the body dangling from his upraised hands.

"Why?" Hercules hissed into Marius' face.

"Hera," gasped the bandit leader, feeling his guts tighten with fear, hoping that his answer would cause the demi-god to release him, not realising he had just signed his own death warrant.

The expression on Hercules' face hardened. This..... this ....... grotesque degenerate and his gang had defiled the body of his friend, his lover, all because of his malevolent stepmother and *someone* was going to suffer for it. For a moment the demi-god teetered on the razor edge of wrath, before completely abandoning himself to the abyss of his rage. He tightened his grip feeling nothing but deep gratification as the man's eyes bulged and his lips turned blue. Finally he heard the sound of shattering cartilage and the body dangled lifelessly from his grasp.

Xena pursued Stelio around the room. She cut and slashed at him, always managing to leave a mark on his body, whilst she danced back unscathed by his own blade. She had no desire to make his death a quick one, having overheard Marius' taunt to Hercules. But her concern for Iolaus overrode her desire to extract revenge from Stelio. She backed him in to a corner and blocking his sword with hers, she drew her dagger with her left hand. She hadn't heard Hercules' query to Marius, so she asked the same question of Stelio.

"Why did you do this to him?" she asked quietly. Stelio trembled in fear as the dagger closed with his skin.

"It was Hera's will," he whispered, seeing his own death in the eyes which regarded him coolly.

She pressed the point just below his ribcage and quickly thrust upwards to pierce his heart. Jerking the knife free, she stepped away, as the body crumpled, and turned from the dead bandit to approach Hercules. The demi-god still had not moved, he stood like a statue holding the lifeless Marius in his grasp. She advanced carefully, laying one hand on his tense and quivering arm.

Hercules stared at the dead body hanging from his trembling hands. It wasn't enough.... not *nearly* enough to appease him ..... he wanted more. Rational thought was gone and pure primal instinct had taken over. This monster had hurt someone close to him, not only hurt but degraded, simply for the pleasure of it, and killing him did not assuage the demi-god's desire for vengeance. He needed more ...... to feel flesh tear beneath his hands ....... to rend skin from bone. He wanted to trample and pound the remains of what he held into a bloody mess beneath his feet, until nothing tangible was left of the man.

Xena recognised the signs of battle madness in the strained muscles and tautly held body. She reached upwards, tangling her left hand in the demi-god's chestnut hair, brutally wrenching his head away from the dead bandit so that he had to look at her.

She saw the wildness in the dilated eyes, whites showing all around the iris, and knew she was close to losing him. Without pausing to consider the consequences she drew back her right hand and slapped Hercules forcefully across the right cheek. The sound of the blow ricocheted around the now quiet room like an explosion. She held her breath, waiting to see what would happen, knowing that with one angry blow he could probably kill her. Gradually, sanity returned to those cerulean eyes and she exhaled slowly in relief.

"Hercules, let him go. We need to care for Iolaus," she spoke quietly, knowing there would be a price to pay for this later. The demi-god was not a natural killer, she, however was.

Hercules dropped Marius to the floor and, stepping over the body, moved past Xena to approach the prone form of his friend. Xena turned briefly away, examining the unconscious bodies of the two bandits who Hercules had knocked senseless at the beginning of the battle. She crouched next to them and with two quick thrusts of her knife ended their lives. She had reformed, but not that much, and she still believed in revenge as a worthwhile concept. It would not sully her soul to add these two to the tally of men she had already killed.

"That's for you, Iolaus," she whispered, eyes glittering as she straightened, turned and approached the table.

The demi god dropped to his knees to cut Iolaus' ankles free from their bonds, unable yet to examine the body of his lifelong companion. He straightened slowly, hearing Xena's footsteps approach and her soft gasp when she saw the ruin that had been Iolaus.

The warrior's back was a mass of deep bleeding cuts and weals as a result of the whipping the previous day and bite marks could clearly be seen on his neck and the top of his shoulders. His legs and hips showed bruising because of the more recent attentions of the bandits and blood trailed down his inner thighs and buttocks. The tousled blond hair was dirty, encrusted with dried sweat and matted blood and they couldn't see his face which was turned to the wall.

Xena gently cut the coarse rope from Iolaus' neck as Hercules broke the cuffs from the warrior's red and bloodstained wrists. He slipped his hands under the prone form, sliding beneath the warrior's shoulder's, carefully raising the battered body from the table, into an upright position.

Xena's face paled even further as she studied the blond's face and chest. His face was covered in bruises and cuts, nose broken and swollen, his bottom lip split and raw. More dull bruising was visible across his muscled chest, along his ribs and down to his abdomen. More worryingly, his belly seemed distended, and some discolouration was visible, a potential sign of serious internal bleeding.

"Gods, Hercules, he's taken a terrible beating," she exclaimed in horror. "I don't know whether he can survive this. We need to get him to a healer immediately."

Hercules studied her, misery clearly visible in his blue eyes. "In his current state and with the storm outside he'll never survive the journey to the village," he stated bleakly.

"Right then," Xena acknowledged, launching into action. "Let's see what we can do for him here. We need to get him clean, to cut down on the chance of infection, and keep him warm so he doesn't go any deeper into shock. Let's get him in front of the fire, and find some blankets. I'll need you to get some water, so we can wash him, and I'll see what supplies I can find to help. And bring some more wood in. We need to keep this place hot." The warrior princess realised that she was babbling, talking simply to hear the sound of her own voice, to ground both herself and the demi-god in the reality of the moment, so neither of them could succumb to shock.

They lay Iolaus in front of the fire, and covered him in blankets whilst Hercules hurriedly dragged the bodies of the bandits from the room and brought in fresh water and as much firewood as he could find. Xena brought Argo up to the stable, heated the water and checked both her and the bandit's supplies for useful herbs.

They did their best to care for Iolaus and make him as comfortable as possible, within their restricted circumstances. Together, they tenderly cleaned his battered body.

Xena started, by washing his face, and, whilst he was so deeply unconscious, resetting the broken nose. Then with Hercules' help, she cleaned the hunter's chest, arms and stomach, washing away the dried blood, covering his raw wrists with a thick salve, before binding them with strips of clean cotton. She gently probed at the distended stomach, whilst Hercules watched worrying his lower lip between his teeth, until he could stand the tension no longer and blurted "Well?"

"I can't tell," Xena responded looking up at him. "It could just be very severe bruising, but it could be internal bleeding. I *just* don't know." Neither of them were willing to admit the implications of this. Her initial examination complete, they gently turned the hunter's body to lie face down on the blankets.

Hercules' pallid face turned slightly green as he saw the damage that had been caused by the whip. He vividly recalled the agony he had suffered at the hands of Bellicus, the head jailer of Menas Maxius and he had been punished nowhere as severely as Iolaus had. The wounds on Iolaus' back were covered with dirt and Hercules was grateful that his friend was unconscious. It took them far longer to clean and bandage the hunter's back, and both were worried about the possibility of serious infection.

Xena finally stripped the remains of the blankets from Iolaus' frame to clean his buttocks and legs. With a mumbled apology, Hercules lurched rapidly to his feet and ran for the door. The warrior princess listened impassively to the sounds of retching as she finished cleaning the body in front of her and once again wrapped the hunter in the clean warm blankets.

They tended to Iolaus as best they could throughout the night. Once they had used the firewood, they destroyed every piece of furniture in the room, to keep the blaze strong, fearful that if the warrior became chilled he would not be able to survive. Neither of them slept, as they silently kept watch over the blond hunter, unable to voice their worries and concerns, suspicious that to do so would make their worst fears come true.

Xena was anxious about the mental state of the demi-god. He had spent years as a soldier and she knew he had witnessed his share of brutal battles and their aftermaths, but this time the savagery had happened to a friend and lover. She studied his face, skin seemingly stretched almost to breaking point over prominent cheekbones, dark circles underlying the fine blue eyes. She knew that he had had no sleep last night, and would not sleep tonight. He looked as if he was slipping into a state of shock and she hoped that he could hold on, at least until they returned to Eigo. She needed him to help with the journey back tomorrow.

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Fortunately the storm broke early the next morning. Bright winter sunlight blazed over the stronghold, the sky was a piercing, clear blue and the snow lay crisply on the ground. They hurriedly dressed Iolaus in his own trousers and boots, which they had found, and the cleanest of the clothes which they had been able to salvage from the bandits gear, and wrapped him in all the cloaks and blankets they could find.

Xena had saddled two of the bandits' horses for herself and Hercules. The remaining animals were heavily laden with anything useful from the stronghold, so they would have plenty of supplies if they were unable to reach the village that evening. It was a point they had argued over. Hercules wanted to abandon the rest of the animals and make a race for Eigo on just three horses. Xena, had for once favoured caution, pointing out that should they not reach the village by nightfall, Iolaus was unlikely to be able to survive a night out in the cold, unless they had
adequate supplies.

Hercules carried the hunter outside, and placed him gently astride Argo's back. They had to reluctantly tie his bandaged wrists to the saddle to keep him in place, before setting off, one on either side of the horse, to offer Iolaus what support they could.

The brightness of the sun reflecting off the pure white snow rapidly caused their eyes to water and tear in pain and they had to stop, to bind thin cotton strips around their eyes as well as those of the animals. Iolaus body slumped over Argo's neck, a large cloak shielding him from the worst effects of the cold, and the hood pulled over his face to protect him from the light.

The journey back to Eigo was an ordeal which neither of them could ever clearly remember. It was a struggle against mind-numbing coldness and a desperate battle to keep the animals on their feet, as they slipped and slithered down the hills. One of the pack horses fell, breaking a leg, and Xena had to end its misery. She hated to think what would happen if Argo fell whilst bearing Iolaus. The hard riding must be inflicting additional wounds on the hunter's body.

Xena glanced occasionally across to see Hercules riding close to Iolaus, hands holding Argo's reins and eyes intently on the ground in front of them, seeking a safe path and watching for dangerous obstacles.

Eventually the journey simply became something that had to be endured. The warrior princess could no longer even think about reaching the end. It was just a battle against the elements, the painful, blinding whiteness of the snow contrasting with the redness of Iolaus' blood as it gradually soaked through the bandages protecting his wrists. Driving the horses onwards, desperately forcing them to take step after step, praying there would be no more falls.

They finally staggered into the settlement an hour after sunset.

Hercules crashed into the welcome warmth of the inn, carrying Iolaus cradled in his arms like a child, the hunter's own arms spilling from the protection of the cloak and hanging lifelessly down.

Xena followed, practically tripping over the demi-god's heels, loudly demanding the best room in the house, for hot water to be heated immediately, for someone to fetch a healer NOW and for someone, anyone to get outside and look after the damned animals.

People leapt out of their way as the innkeeper's wife bustled forwards to help, shouting orders at an army of kitchen staff who seemed to have materialised from thin air and dispatching a runner to accompany Xena to fetch the village healer.

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Hercules was only dimly aware of the chaos his arrival had caused. The heat generated within the common room of the inn, the bright light after the blackness outside, the strong odours of food, alcohol and unwashed bodies all assaulted his senses. He reeled light-headedly for a moment as his stomach lurched. The innkeeper's wife, a plump, homely woman had taken one look at the demi-god's strained, grey face and glanced quickly at the bundle in his arms before shouting orders to anyone within reach.

A young girl had been sent scampering ahead to check the room, an adolescent boy dispatched to the kitchens with orders to fetch warm drinks and food for two. She accosted a couple of the burliest looking customers with a request to bring a wooden tub to the room, gesturing behind her into the kitchens, "Marcos will tell you where things are."

Hercules half heard the shouted orders, unable to pick out coherent sentences, just catching the odd words, and was glad for a moment that someone else was taking control. He was exhausted. His vision was hazy and unclear, his whole body ached down to his very bones, his arms were heavy and leaden and his knees and legs were cramping from the unaccustomed riding. Meanwhile his mind was trying to fight off a creeping numbness, which made him want to lay Iolaus down somewhere safe, soft and warm and wrap himself protectively around the hunter. To try to infuse life and animation back into his closest companion's battered body. He stumbled on a step, jarring the body in his arms, and cursed under his breath, before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. The momentary pain snapped him out of his temporary daze. He *had* to keep going, Iolaus needed him, and needed him to be awake and aware.

The demi-god followed the innkeeper's wife, as she led the way up the stairs behind the main common room to the first floor of the inn. He reached a landing, walking a short distance before the woman ushered him through a wooden door into a large and well furnished room. A welcoming fire blazed in a deep stone fireplace, casting a comforting warmth throughout the interior. There were deep rugs over the polished wooden floors and a large comfortable looking bed against the rear wall. Tables, chairs and storage chests occupied the rest of the space. Hercules' eyes focused on the bed and he staggered over, laying the bundled up hunter gently down.

He unwrapped the blankets and cloaks tenderly from around Iolaus' head, dreading what he might find. The familiar face was still bruised and swollen almost beyond recognition. The black eye stood out clearly against the pale skin and the hunter's lips were blue with cold. For one heart-stopping moment Hercules' feared the worst, and he lowered one large hand to hover just above Iolaus' nose and mouth. He held his own breath in gut wrenching anticipation until he felt that faint flow of air against the palm of his hand, indicating that Iolaus still breathed, although shallowly. Hercules heaved his own sigh of fervent relief.

"That's it... bring it in here - quickly now, put it just in front of the fire and then go and see about the water."

The demi-god whirled as sounds began to penetrate his befuddled brain. The innkeeper's wife was supervising two hefty looking men as they manoeuvred a large wooden tub into position in front of the hearth. She was obviously also keeping one eye on the door. As the adolescent boy started into the room bearing a loaded tray she moved to intercept him. Grasping a tankard from the tray she headed towards Hercules, a look of grim determination on her face.

'Gods, the man looked just about ready to collapse', she thought. She grabbed one of the muscled arms, hanging limply at his sides, pulled it upwards and thrust the tankard of warm wine into his hand. Wrapping both her smaller hands around his, she pushed the mug upwards, closer to his lips.

"Come on, my boy. You need something warming. Now you drink this, nice and quietly while I have a closer look at your friend."

She watched him carefully, noting the glazed look in the blue eyes. This one was near to sliding into either exhaustion or deep shock, and no mistake. She could care for him until Makis had time to deal with the other one. As he finally, almost automatically, took the first long swallow of the wine she turned to the body on the bed. Before she had even had a chance to bend to look closer she heard the sound of footsteps racing up the stairs and along the landing.

Xena came striding into the room, cloak flowing around her, carrying a large wooden box in her arms. Rushing in behind her was a tall, slender young man with dishevelled curly black hair which cascaded in an unruly fashion down his shoulders. He was carrying another box and had a large bag slung over one shoulder.

"Ah, Makis, that was fast! I've got water heating and was just about to try to make him more comfortable."

"Thank you, Brisis. Can you look after these two whilst I have a look at the patient?" the young man nodded casually at Xena and Hercules. His quick glance taking in their exhausted visages.

"Give them something hot to eat and ....." he trailed off, glancing over to the table and saw the laden tray. "Well, I guess you have all this in hand," he smiled gratefully. "Now let's see about the patient shall we?"

He placed his box and bag carefully down on a chest next to the bed, and gestured for Xena to do the same. Brisis, he knew, would look after the other two allowing him to completely focus his attention on the figure lying there. Carefully pushing the cloaks and blankets away from the prone form, he completed the action the demi-god had started. His dark brown eyes quickly skimmed his patient's clothed and battered body, noting the blood seeping through the bandages on the wrists. He quickly offered a prayer to Asclepius and, then for good measure, to Apollo too. He had a *very bad* feeling that he was going to need all the divine help possible if he was going to effect any sort of cure this time.

He cautiously raised the man's shoulders from the bed, gingerly peeling away the shirt that had been wrapped around him. Makis frowned at what he saw beneath. The bandages which encircled the muscular torso had also soaked through with blood, and were partially stuck to the man's broad back. The flesh was cold and clammy beneath his hands, yet slick with perspiration. This one was definitely going to cause him problems.

He paused in his examination and twisted round to see three concerned faces avidly watching his every movement. Brisis had managed to relieve the two friends of their cloaks but was having no luck in persuading them to sit or eat. Hercules and Xena stood side by side, exhaustion clearly visible in their faces and wilting bodies, as they leaned slightly against one another for support. Brisis stood next to them,
looking with concern from them to Makis and back again.

"Brisis, can you get them to hurry with the hot water. And you two..." he turned his penetrating dark eyes on them and a note of command entered his voice, "will you *please* sit down before you fall down." He saw a dully mutinous light start to enter two sets of blue eyes, and ploughed on forcefully, "Look, your friend here needs my *full * attention. I haven't got time to be distracted by either of you two
collapsing, so *sit down* and *eat* something."

Brisis pushed two chairs towards the companions, waiting patiently for them to comply with Makis' request. As they finally sat she pushed a plate of food into each pair of hands, before hurrying out of the room and down the stairs. As Xena collapsed into the chair she suddenly realised how tired and hungry she was. She hadn't slept last night, she knew for certain the demi-god had stayed awake the night before and neither of them had eaten since noon yesterday.

Turning her head slightly she sombrely regarded Hercules. His expression hadn't changed, he hadn't spoken since Makis had arrived. She needed to have a few quiet words with the healer about him once he had finished tending Iolaus. In the meantime, she would have to try to help. She nudged him in an attempt to get him to acknowledge her presence.

"He's right, Hercules, eat something. You're no good to Iolaus half dead."

The demi-god didn't reply, or look down at the plate on his lap, but at least his hands moved, tearing a chunk off the bread and raising it to his lips to chew mechanically. Xena turned her own attention to the food on her plate and methodically started to work her way through the meal.

Once Makis was confident his orders had been followed he concentrated on his patient. His hands were busy removing the man's clothing as his mind worked furiously, cataloguing actual and potential injuries, and reviewing his knowledge for the most appropriate combination of medicines and herbs to treat them. He gently rolled the body to lie on one side as he tugged the leather trousers down, then stopped with a muffled gasp as his eyes took in the full extent of the injuries. He drew in a ragged breath and without stopping to think started to curse, quietly but fluently and fulsomely.

Xena was roused from her momentary trance by the soft cursing. The air resounded with oaths, as they slipped with a certain roll and thunder from the healer's lips. The soft rhythm was almost musical. She listened for a few moments, as he heaped curses upon those who had done this, and daringly, upon the gods who stood by and allowed this sort of inhumanity to happen. By the time he had finished Makis hadn't repeated himself once. The man certainly had an extensive vocabulary she reflected and he could probably even give Iolaus a run for his money. A brief smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she remembered once besting the hunter in a sparring match, and the voluble curses that had followed the slightly sneaky move she had had to use to secure that victory.

It was a sign of the warrior princess' exhaustion that Makis heard the footsteps on the stairs before she did. He quickly tugged some of the blankets to cover his patient's naked body as Brisis and a number of the kitchen staff arrived to empty steaming pails of water into the wooden tub. Makis thanked them and ushered them quickly out of the room, then returned to the bed.

Before either Hercules or Xena could offer any help the slender young healer had lifted Iolaus into his strong arms and carried him over to the tub. He slowly lowered the pliant body into the warm waters, tucking the legs close into his chest and ensuring the dangling arms were placed in the water, so that the bandages would soak free of his skin. He rested the blond head carefully against the back of the tub and walked over to the table to rummage in his sack. As Hercules and Xena started to move to help he pinned them with a warning stare, taking a small phial from his bag and placing it carefully in a pocket.

"*Stay*," he almost growled, as if talking to a recalcitrant dog. "When I *need* your help I'll ask for it."

As they sank back into their chairs he grabbed the pitcher of wine and poured two more tankards. He carried them over pushing them into their hands. Keep things simple, he lectured himself. The man was heading for shock, the woman appearing to handle the experience much better. He wondered for a moment about the relationship between the three of them and then pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It was none of his business, caring for the blond was.

He walked back over to the tub. The warm water had effectively done its work. The bandages were now soaked and should be easier to remove from the man's body. He pulled the phial from his pocket and emptied it into the water, as the heady scent of lavender filled the room. That should help to clean the open wounds and act as a sedative. He bent over the tub, lifting one of the bandaged arms, and slowly started to unwrap the linen. He was surprised when the wrappings came cleanly away from the wrist, not sticking at all. Lowering the arm back to the water , he quickly repeated the process on the other side. He lifted his eyes from his patient to find the woman watching him calmly.

"You treated him?" he queried curiously. She only nodded in response.

"What did you use?"

"Lavender oil and thick salve. I figured it would be easier for someone else to take a look at him if the bandages didn't stick too badly. We cleaned him up first of course."

"You did an excellent job," Makis admitted.

"I should have. The Gods know I've had enough practice." Xena remarked bitterly. She smiled, an icy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, as she heard the apology in his voice. "It's alright, I'd rather you paid attention to Iolaus than try to flatter me."

The healer understood that he had undervalued her. His knowing eyes ran over her once again, noting the strong, muscled body and the sword strapped to her back, that he had *somehow* managed to overlook in his earlier haste. A dangerous woman to underestimate, he realised somewhat belatedly.

"Could you help me with getting the rest of these bandages off him?" he asked.

She nodded again, looking once more to where the demi-god remained, unmoving, as she stripped the sword from her body. Makis followed her gaze.

"I know, but let's deal with one thing at a time shall we."

Xena moved rapidly, glad to be of use again. She was not indolent by nature, and tended to brood when not actively engaged in completing some task. They knelt, one either side of the tub to remove the remaining bandages from Iolaus' torso. The wounds on his back were much deeper than those on his wrists and had bled more profusely. The linen wrappings here had stuck to his skin and had to be peeled away carefully. Unfortunately, although the linen was soaked with water, as they attempted to remove the bandages many of the wounds opened once more to bleed freely into the lavender scented water.

Makis hissed as he surveyed the damage to the warrior's back, a warm fury burning in his brown eyes. Xena lowered her head as she tended to Iolaus' body, she didn't want the man to see the tears in her eyes.

"You want to tell me what, exactly, happened to him?"

"Bandits got him. Took us two days to reach him in the storm. By then the whole gang had been having some fun," she spat tersely.

"What in Tartarus did they beat him with?"

"Leather whip, lots of lashes, embedded metal bits."

Makis heard the pain in her voice, and could imagine the state the blond had been in when his friends finally found him. He tried not to dwell on the images his active mind conjured up.

"Any of them left alive?" he inquired conversationally.

"No. We got them all."

"Good!" he commented with satisfaction.

Makis finished peeling the last of the bandages from the Iolaus' body and carefully poured more water over the bloodied back.

"Right, can you spread some towels and clean blankets over the bed. "Let's get him out and dry and then I'll see what I can do."

Xena hurried to comply as Makis stood and bent over the tub, lifting Iolaus from the water and carrying him once more back to the bed. He placed Iolaus on his back and together they quickly dried the damp body. Makis then leaned in close, long fingered hands drifting over the hunter, raising the eyelids and peering into the blue eyes, exploring the bruising on his face, then carefully tracing along the jawline. His hands drifted lower, one either side of the torso, investigating the bruises visible on the chest and over the ribs before finally probing gently at the distended belly.

Xena had moved away, to stand next to Hercules, one hand resting lightly on the demi-god's shoulder, offering what physical comfort she could. There was no response. For once in her life she felt moved to talk, to say anything to break through the barrier that surrounded the man who sat before her. She leaned close to his ear.

"He'll be alright Hercules, you'll see. He's too tough and mean to die on us so easily," hoping against hope that what she said was true.

The only sound in the bedroom was the crackle of the fire as Makis finished his examination of Iolaus. He straightened, from leaning over the bed, to look across the room to where Xena and Hercules waited, now silently observing him.

"Well, what can you do to help him?" demanded Xena sharply.

"I've never seen anyone survive that sort of punishment before", Makis murmured quietly, more to himself than the others as he looked at them with compassion.

"Your friend is very, very sick", he stated quietly. "Those open wounds on his back are definitely infected and he has a very bad fever. He's got several cracked ribs, a massive amount of bruising and he may be bleeding internally from the beating he took".

He shook his head, turning to the large wooden box he had brought containing his herbs and oils, muttering to himself as he picked up and set down bottles, before glancing their way once again. He now knew that Xena understood more than he had anticipated about medical treatment, so he kept talking, including her on his diagnosis and plans for treatment.

"The real worry is that discolouration around his stomach. If he's bleeding internally there's very little I can do. A tisane of self heal and comfrey might help......." he trailed off. As he spoke he sorted through more bottles, measuring out two generous shakes of dried herbs into a jug of water.

"Then there's the fever, that's a problem. I don't want to give him anything to suppress it too much, as it will help to eliminate the infection from his back. But his body needs help to withstand a serious fever at this point. Let me see, I can add boneset, borage and vervain to the tisane which will help, both the fever and his cracked ribs, but he needs plenty of it." He mixed the additional herbs into the jug. "You need to get him to drink this as often as possible, and at least a good dose every hour or so. Keep it heated by the fire, it works better when warm."

"Now ......... as for his back and those wounds on his wrists, .... a poultice, I think would be best. Thyme, wormwood, ..... elder....... comfrey and fenugreek should work. This will need to be changed every morning." He rummaged around for more bottles, adding a shake from one and several pinches from others to a thick paste he mixed in a bowl.

"Heat one of those blankets in front of the fire, would you, please," he murmured distractedly to Xena, nodding at several blankets on top of one of the chests. He turned Iolaus to lie face down on the bed. Then delicately and carefully, his soothing hands spread the thick paste over the warrior's torn back, working slowly to make sure all the open wounds were covered, before placing a large square of clean white cotton on top.

He looked towards the demi-god. "Hercules...... Hercules, I'm going to need your help." He had to try and snap the demi-god from his shocked state.

Hercules shook his head, someone, somewhere was calling his name, needed his help. He shook his head again and the fog that had surrounded his mind dissipated slightly. He looked around in fleeting confusion. What was happening to him? The last thing he remembered was laying Iolaus down on the bed......

"Hercules... come over here." the soft voice penetrated his stunned consciousness.

He levered himself slowly to a standing position and approached the healer.

"Please can you lift his body slightly," Makis asked. The demi-god slid his hands under the hunter's arms, tenderly raising his upper body from the bed, as the healer worked quickly to wrap bandages around the Iolaus' back and chest. Once this task was completed he lowered his friend face down to the bed again.

"Now, give me the blanket please", Makis said holding out his hand towards Xena. "You *must* keep the poultice warm to draw the infection from his wounds. Keep some blankets heated and replace them as they cool down". He then concentrated on Iolaus' raw wrists, covering them in the paste before wrapping them with clean cotton bandages.

"The next few days are the most critical. If the fever breaks, and there is no serious internal bleeding, he may survive. You have to keep a close watch on him and get him to drink as much of that tea as possible. Try to keep him from turning over, he needs to remain face down to avoid putting any additional pressure on those wounds on his back". He looked at them once more, obviously holding something back.

Hercules stared closely at the now silent Makis. "And....?" he questioned quietly.

The young man shrugged. "He doesn't seem to be responsive. His pupils are dilated and there's no reaction to light. He may have taken a serious blow or kick to the head during the beating. I can't tell at the moment. We may find we've healed the body but not the mind" he said quietly. "But, for the moment, let us worry about healing the body". He carefully packed away his belongings. "I'll stay and keep watch over him tonight, you two should both get some sleep."

"NO!"

"No."

Makis wasn't surprised by the vehemence he heard in the two voices as they joined to stubbornly deny their need for rest. 'Oh yes' he thought grimly. 'These two were going to give him as much trouble as their injured friend. Still... he had done as much as he could tonight, and if the hunter survived until morning his chances would be so much better.' He recognised that the friends may also be able to grieve more easily if he wasn't around.

"Very well. I'll stay in the room next door. If there is any change in his condition come and get me. Tomorrow morning I'll replace the poultice and make up some more of the tea."

As Makis slipped quietly from the room Hercules and Xena exchanged worried glances. Hercules approached the bed, gently turning the hunter and raising his body, careful not to touch the wounds on his back. He cradled Iolaus tenderly in his arms as Xena tried to get the hunter to drink some of the tisane.

It was a painful process, in the end she found the only way possible to get Iolaus to take the herbal tea was to dribble a small spoonful at a time onto his parched lips, even so, more of it seemed to run down his chin than go down his throat. Xena could have screamed in frustration.

Hercules lowered Iolaus' body back to the mattress after a while, and they replaced the blanket on his back with another heated one from near to the fire.

Neither of them spoke throughout another sleepless night. They watched silently as Iolaus battled to overcome the double attack of the infection and the fever. They bathed sweat from his weakened and burning body, trying desperately to keep him cool and continued to try to get more of the healing tea inside the hunter.

By the time Makis returned early the next morning the additional strain they had endured overnight showed clearly in their faces. The heale rworked quickly to change the poultice and completed another thorough examination of the hunter. He turned from the bed to look at them. Hercules stood leaning against the wall, staring unseeingly at the bed, whilst Xena slumped in a chair by the fire, her head resting in her hands.

Makis gently cleared his throat and two sets of eyes focused their attention on him. "Well he is no worse than last night", he spoke slowly "and that in itself is a blessing".

"However, you should take it in turns to watch him, you both need to keep your strength if you intend to nurse him through this". As two sets of blue eyes glowered at him, he sighed quietly. He was going to have more trouble from the carers than from the patient. He had just drawn in another breath to argue with them when there was a muffled shout from the bed.

All three of them turned to the prone form of the hunter. Iolaus had rolled over onto his back, his sweat dampened hair was sticking to his face and forehead, his arms and face were slickly damp. The azure eyes were wide open, and wild but there was no recognition in them. His arms and legs thrashed wildly, tangling in the sheets as his whole body convulsed and twitched.

As suddenly as the movement had started it stopped. The tension dissolved from the taut muscles and his body relaxed onto the bed, eyes closing. Makis gently turned Iolaus onto his face, straightening the bandages on his back and pulling the blankets back around him. He brushed the golden curls from the hunter's forehead, before carefully raising one eyelid, and peering into the blue eye, and then checking the other.

He straightened to look again at Hercules and Xena who were both watching him intently.

"Well?" queried Hercules, unable to stand the tension.

"His eyes are responding to the light, which is a good sign", stated Makis calmly. "But we have to stop him turning onto his back. Those wounds will never heal if he puts pressure on them. If his delirium continues you may have to tie him to the bed".

"NO!" Hercules choked out forcefully, "I won't let you tie him up".

"Very well" Makis responded calmly. "Just please try to keep him from turning over. Now, you both go down to the kitchen and get something to eat and drink. I don't want you back here until you've done that. I'll watch him for a while." He herded them out of the room, gently pushing them until he had them out on the landing and then firmly closed the door in their faces.

He returned to the bed. Gently laying one hand on Iolaus' forehead he checked his temperature. The healer was worried, the man was desperately feverish, and the earlier convulsions were not a particularly good sign. He pulled a chair next to the bed, and sat down. Recalling the days when he had trained in Athens, he reviewed everything his teachers had told him about how to deal with fevers and wounds, hoping he might discover something he had overlooked last night.

Makis was disturbed from his musings sometime later by the quiet opening and closing of the door as Hercules and Xena returned. They had obviously taken time to visit the village bath house, as they were both cleaner than before, but they still looked as if they were treading the knife edge of exhaustion. He opened his mouth to argue with them to take it in turns to watch Iolaus, but recognised he would be wasting his breath. For the moment they needed to be with the hunter, as much for themselves as for the injured man. A knock sounded on the door and Brisis poked her head into the room.

"Sorry, Makis, but there's been an accident at Petros' farm. They need you quickly."

The healer looked at Brisis, nodded, and gathered his things together. He halted as he passed the two friends. "There's nothing more I can do for Iolaus at the moment," he paused, meeting Xena's eyes as she acknowledged the truth of the statement. "Petros' farm isn't that far away, any change in his condition, send for me. I'll get back as quickly as I can."

Xena nodded as Makis hastily left.

**********************************************************************

Iolaus blinked his eyes a few times and realised that he was finally awake. Something heavy and constricting was wrapped around his chest, but that didn't matter. He didn't know where he was, his skin was slick with sweat, the sheets surrounding him damp and clinging to his body, tangled around his legs, restraining him. He was cold, so cold, he knew deep down he would never be warm again. Liquid ice seemed to flow through his veins, and somewhere at the centre of him was the source of this coldness. There was something he had to remember, something important, he had to ..... that's it .... the bandits, they would come again soon, he *had* to get away.

His pounding head ached and he turned to one side, and so he saw them, through swimming vision and a haze of soft light. Xena sat on the floor next to a fire, back resting against the wall, head slumped forwards, obviously asleep. Lying on the rug in front of the fire, his brown head pillowed in Xena's lap, was Hercules. 'They look so peaceful', Iolaus thought, 'so comfortable and right together'. The gods had been kind, sending him a vision at the end. His friends would be alright. They *would* find one another.

He slid silently from the bed, he had to escape, now whilst he had a chance, before the bandits came back. Now he knew that his friends would be together, nothing mattered any more, apart from getting as far away from Marius and his gang as possible. He didn't want his friend's to find him, he could imagine what he would see in their eyes if they did. Xena's gaze would hold contempt for his weakness, his inability to defend himself, and as for Hercules .... he couldn't stand the thought of the pity that he would see in the demi-god's eyes. If Hercules ever found out what they had done to him he seriously doubted that the demi-god would want to be around him.

He paused to wrap a thin sheet around his hips, before padding across the room to where he saw his clothes. He moved the clothes aside, found the belt knife and noiselessly slipped from the room.

Treading carefully down the stairs, wary of making any sound, he sneaked quietly through the main door of the common room. He found himself in a street ..... strange ..... he thought the stronghold had been a building alone. Never mind, doesn't matter, escape, freedom, that was what was important. He walked out from the shelter of the inn, not noticing the thick snow lying on the ground, or the heavy flakes which were drifting silently down from the night sky, and began walking up the street, scanning the buildings on either side. He didn't feel the cold of the snow against his bare skin, or notice that the bottom of the sheet soon became wet. The place in his mind, where he felt safe, that was cold too. The numbness was blessed after so much pain. Finally, he saw something ... yes... that would do, in fact it was more than appropriate.

Iolaus closed the door behind him, and struggled for a moment to slide the bar into place. He felt so weak, his legs and knees were trembling and he had difficulty in lifting the wooden bar high enough to fit into the brackets on the back of the door. As it finally slid home he rested his head against the solid door, panting for breath for a few moments. Then he turned and surveyed the temple, two large candles burned on the small altar, behind which stood a statue of a beautiful woman. Iolaus approached the altar, and knelt down with his head bowed.

He sat back on his heels, unsheathed the knife and rested the hilt between his knees before rapidly stripping the soft linen from around his wrists. What was that doing there anyway? This was it, a safety he hadn't expected to find, the sanctuary of one of the Olympians who looked kindly on him. He paused for a moment, he needed to consider his words carefully, a request to the goddess in whose temple he now sat. He hoped she would understand. He was tired and cold, had no strength left to fight Marius anymore, but he did need somehow to get a message to his friends. If the goddess looked kindly on him and if he phrased the request correctly she *might* just deliver it.

"Well, this seems fitting somehow. Thank you for being here at the end and sparing me more of Marius' attentions. For sending me the vision of Hercules and Xena. Please, if you feel any kindness towards me, give them a message. Tell Xena that I was proud to have known her and that there are no hard feelings, things turned out the way they should have after all." He bowed his head for a moment. The next part would be the most difficult.

"Tell Hercules ...... tell Hercules that I have loved him, ........ and spent the happiest years of my life in his company. Make him *believe* that this was not his fault. You know what he's like, he'll blame himself, he always does. Don't let him go on a trail of vengeance. It's time he started to live again, maybe he can do that with Xena. Aphrodite, I ask you to grant my friends a long and happy life together and bring you the only sacrifice I can".

He rested his wrists against the point of the long knife, .... nearly over .... he would be free, at last, and warm again soon, maybe Ania would be there to greet him. At least he need no longer regret leaving Hercules behind. Funny, he'd always imagined that leaving the demi-god would feel like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest, but all he felt was the constant, insidious, invading coldness and numbness.

Taking a deep breath he pushed down very hard and fast. He stared, blue eyes wide, as his arms slid along the knife and the deep gashes appeared. They ran from wrist, half way up his forearms, following the paths of the blue veins.

He was surprised that he felt no pain, nothing at all, with a wound that deep he should be howling in agony. He noted, with a certain detachment, just how fast the red blood began to pulse hotly out of his veins, to drip down his arms. No-one could call him back from this. Even if the bandits found him now they would be too late. He realised he was safe, finally out of reach, no bondage, no pain, no despair, no dependency... and no love. He was shocked out of his deep contemplation by the sudden scream that sounded so close.

"Iolaus, ..... oh no .... No, NO!!". Aphrodite materialised in front of him, blond hair swirling around her head, blue eyes wild, her skimpy pink costume of veils parting to reveal tantalising glimpses of tanned flesh.

He smiled, his sweet, heartbreakingly beautiful smile, as he dropped his eyes from the goddess' face to look at the pool of red blood streaming across the floor. "I'm sorry, 'Dite, I seem to have made a mess here", he said apologetically before slowly toppling over.

Aphrodite hurled herself towards him, landing on her knees just in time to catch his body and pillow his tousled blond head in her lap. "Oh Iolaus, what have you done", she whispered. Throwing back her head she screamed "HERCULES!", before once again crouching over Iolaus.

There was a puff of sulphurous yellow smoke and Aphrodite saw a pair of polished, black boots materialise within her field of vision. A soft, hushed cough came from above her head and Hades spoke gently, his civilised tones echoing around the empty temple. "Aphrodite, I'm so sorry, but you have to let him go. He's cheated death three times already. This time I'm afraid he's mine."

Aphrodite slowly raised her head. Her eyes met Hades and the God of the Underworld stepped backwards at the fire and anger he saw in her gaze.

"No way Hades. You can't have him yet. It's not his time."

"Aphrodite," he began trying to reason with her. "He's had more chances than most mortals ever receive. You can't interfere."

"Why in Tartarus not" she spat back at him. "Everyone else has!"

"But 'Dite......" the God of the Underworld trailed off as she looked up at him growling low in her throat, like a cat.

Aphrodite looked back down at Iolaus. There had to be something she could do. She couldn't let him die like this, not on the floor of her temple, not after all that he had just survived. She could hear Hades muttering quietly beneath his breath.

"WHAT!? What are you muttering about?" she queried angrily.

"I just don't understand. What is it with this guy?" The cultured tone sounded more than a little annoyed. "How come *everyone* seems to have a vested interest in keeping him alive and out of the Elysian Fields? First Zeus plays with time for him, next the she-demon's spell was reversed, then Persephone sticks up for him, so I had to make the deal with Hercules and now he's got *you* on his side too!"

Aphrodite leaned forward over Iolaus' prone body, her breasts brushing his forehead and ignoring the blood which spread across the floor, grabbed a torn arm in each hand. Her palms covered the deep wounds as she spread her fingers as widely as possible to curl around Iolaus' bloody arms. She'd always wanted to touch him, intimately, to feel that silken skin against her own, but not like this, never like this. It just wasn't fair! What was it Asclepius had said about healing mortals, one day when he'd been giving one of his interminably boring lectures? If only she could remember....

She slanted a glance up at the black leather clad god, peering through her tangled hair. "Oh, come on Hades. You met him, talked to him, don't tell me you don't understand. Now will you please be quiet, I'm trying to think...."

Hades muffled a smile in his leather glove. Well, whatever next? 'Dite trying to save the life of Hercules' companion. 'Dite trying to think.....

"I hope you know what you are doing," Hades sighed quietly.

Both god and goddess raised their heads as several loud thumps sounded against the wooden door of the temple. The bar holding the door closed splintered inwards under the force of the battering and the door burst open to reveal a wild looking Hercules, with Xena standing just behind him carrying several thick blankets.

"I heard your call Aphrodite, where's Io...." Hercules faltered to a stop as his eyes, becoming accustomed to the dimness of the temple took in the scene before him. He sprinted across the floor to stand in front of Hades, anger bristling in every line of his body.

"Leave him alone, Hades, get away from him. Now. You can't have him! Take me instead. I *will not* lose him again", he growled forcefully.

"It's all right, Hercules, your sister has already seen to that." The darkly clad god nodded once at Aphrodite, and in a swirl of his long black cloak, disappeared.

Hercules turned to approach Aphrodite. She looked up at him, her long hair, tangling around her shoulders, some falling almost to brush Iolaus' face, as he lay unaware in her lap. Her usually baby blue eyes blazed angrily, her face was drawn and white, except for two high spots of colour in her cheeks. She looked more like the Goddess of Divine Retribution than the Goddess of Love.

Hercules retreated a step, and paused. He thought he had seen Aphrodite in all of her moods: pouty, petulant, piqued and peevish but he had never seen her angry. He'd actually *doubted* whether the capricious and flirtatious goddess could get really angry. Now he knew she could, the look she directed at him then at Xena was frankly murderous.

"Well, baby brother," she spat venomously. "I hope you and your girlfriend are happy. You've nearly killed your best friend".

Hercules blanched at her words. "Wha ...... what are you talking about Aphrodite?" he whispered.

"What do you think I'm talking about? He survives what those bandits did to him. Survives the journey back here. Survives his wounds and the fever, so far. Then when he *finally* wakes up its to see you two snuggled up in front of a fire. You *were* supposed to be watching him". She carried on unmindful of the way they both flinched at her angry and damning words.

"He was delirious. He *thought* he was still in the bandit stronghold, and that I'd sent him a vision of you two together. He imagined he knew what would happen when you found him. The looks of contempt *she* would offer" Aphrodite hissed the word 'she' emphatically "and the looks of loathing and pity you would give him, for what he had endured. He came in here, asked me to give you a long and happy life and tried to seal the pact with his blood." She paused for breath, crouched over Iolaus like a tigress protecting a cub, still holding his wrists.

Hercules looked stricken and seemed unable to speak, staring unseeingly at the apparently endless amount blood on the floor, which covered parts of Aphrodite's gown and her long, graceful fingers as she held onto Iolaus' wrists.

Xena took a tentative step forward and keeping her voice low she spoke to the goddess. "You're wrong, Aphrodite and so was Iolaus. I don't know what he *thought* he might see when we looked at him, but I would never offer him contempt. Sympathy and understanding yes, but nothing else," her voice cracked slightly with emotion.

"And do you *really* think Hercules would ever look at Iolaus with loathing, knowing what they mean to one another," she continued. "You were right when you said Iolaus is delirious, he is badly hurt and his wounds are infected. We had to try to heal his body before we could even attempt to heal his mind. We both care for him, Aphrodite. We want him back. We've spent the last days keeping a constant watch on him. We were exhausted".

"Please Aphrodite, give him back", Hercules' voice was raw with emotion and he laid a hand gently on her shoulder. "Tell us how to heal him".

Aphrodite looked up at Hercules and the demi-god was surprised to see tears standing in her eyes. "I can speed the work the healer has done on his body, but only slightly. It will put him out of immediate danger though," she stated huskily. "But there is something else wrong. Something deeper..... he seems to have done something to his mind and I wouldn't even know where to start sorting that out. I don't even know what he's done to himself. I'm not Asclepius....."

Hercules nodded, and a shimmering blue glow spread from under the goddess' hands to envelope Iolaus' body. When the glow faded, Aphrodite removed her hands, and Hercules could see the scars glowing red on Iolaus' arms.

The demi-god knelt beside his half-sister to gently take Iolaus bandaged and naked body into his arms. "I've only speeded up the healing by a week or so, I don't have the power to do more", she stated "and I've done what I could to ensure he bears no scars as a reminder of this".

"Thank you, 'Dite. I will always owe you for this", Hercules looked deeply into his sister's eyes, his gratitude obvious.

Xena wrapped the blankets around Iolaus and they left the temple.

Aphrodite stood silently in the temple for a moment longer, the bloody sheet the hunter had worn wrapped within her hands. Her eyes stared ahead following the path her brother and the warrior princess had taken.

"Take good care of him, Hercules," she murmured. "Otherwise you'll have me to deal with too."


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