HTLJ:I’ll be Home for Solstice

It was a crisp morning, the day before the Solstice festival. Alcmene was pottering in the garden while Jason, once King of Corinth and now happily married to the most wonderful woman in his life, occupied himself with sweeping the paths in front of the mill. Neither of them were saying anything, but both were interspersing their work with concerned glances towards the third person in the garden. Hercules was meant to be working on his mother’s wall, but his eyes kept sweeping the approaches to the house and he dropped and broke more stones than he actually managed to put in place.

"You think maybe I – ?" Jason muttered at his wife as his vigorous sweeping brought him within whispering range. Alcmene shook her head.

"He’ll be here. He never misses out on a festival. Especially when I’m cooking the feast."

"I know that," her husband sighed. "But he’s way overdue. What if something has happened to him? You know perfectly well that if he’s not here by tonight …"

Jason sighed and went back to his sweeping; over at the wall a distracted Hercules dropped yet another stone and swore at it softly, subconsciously invoking his father’s name. Alcmene shivered and yanked out the next weed with a vicious tug. "Don’t make me a liar, Iolaus," she murmured under her breath. "Please – come home safe."

The day passed in a state of constant tension. Every casual visitor, every rustle in the bushes, every shifting shadow was met with intense inspection. The son of Zeus abandoned all pretence of trying to work and began to pace instead, moving back and forward inside the boundary of his mother’s garden as if it were a cage and he a lion locked inside it. Jason tried to talk with him and elicited only non-committal grunts. Alcmene put the supper into the oven and went out to join them both, trying to school the anxious lines from her face. It was less than an hour before sundown – and if the absent hunter didn’t make an appearance soon, then son and husband would undoubtedly decide to search for him – which meant she was likely to be spending the Solstice alone.

"He could have run into anything," Hercules was saying, paused in his pacing to stand, fretful and anxious, beside his friend. "Bandits, monsters – Ares in a bad mood …"

"Hear what?" the son of Zeus began to say – then broke off, cocking his head to listen. Drifting in on the evening air, barely a hint at first but rapidly becoming clearer, was a jaunty, whistled tune. Not one any of them had heard before, but that hardly mattered; the sound heralded the very man they were waiting for. The hunter sauntered into view as if he didn’t have a care in the world, the music spilling from his lips with joyful abandon. Alcmene turned to share a relieved smile with her son.

"A very dishevelled lark," Hercules corrected, staring over her head at his approaching friend. "Look at him."

Alcmene looked. Iolaus never was the tidiest of individuals. She’d long ago despaired of ever getting his mop of hair to stay smoothly styled for longer than the moment the comb left it – but it had been a while since she’d seen him arrive in quite such a state as he did now, greeting the three of them with a broad grin and thrusting out a heavy, covered basket. He was – to put it simply – a mess. His legs were slicked with patches of dried mud from mid thigh downwards. His jerkin was torn and his body was an interesting mix of colours, from the soft purpling of new bruises through to a series of vivid colours that seemed to be smeared red and green body paint. There were twigs and leaves in his hair, which also appeared to be dappled with soot and was thick with clumps of some unspecified goo. If she hadn’t recognised the twinkling colour of his eyes and the unmistakable curve of his grin, Alcmene might have seriously wondered if some impish wood sprite had wandered out of the forest in time to join them for the Solstice feast.

"Hey Herc," he giggled, his grin widening at the way all three jaws dropped in astonishment. "Jason. Alcmene." He saved his widest smile for her, reaching to tug back the cover of the contents of his basket so that he could demonstrate its contents. "Brought you something special."

The basket was full of pears. Not just any pears either, but fruit twice the size of Hercules’ fists, each of which was gleaming with the unmistakable glint of gold. The scent of them billowed up with a sweetness that set Alcmene’s mouth watering. Her hand reached out almost involuntarily; Jason caught her wrist only moments before her fingers curled around the nearest temptation.

"It’s okay," Iolaus laughed, catching the look that passed between the ex-king and his stepson. "They’re good. Juicy," he added a little ruefully, his free hand pushing at one of the sticky clumps in his hair, "but real good. I picked them myself."

"That how you got – " Hercules’ hand managed to indicate the hunter’s dishevelled state in a single I don’t believe this gesture that elicited another cheery giggle from the man concerned.

"Kinda," Iolaus laughed, thrusting the basket into his friend’s hands. "It’s a long story."

"I can’t wait to hear it," Alcmene announced, patting her husband’s hand as she slipped free of his grip. "But you need cleaning up first. Why don’t you let me take your jerkin so I can fix it for you? There’s hot water on the back stove and plenty more out in the storage barrels. I think a couple of baths ought to handle the worst of it. Maybe three," she added, giving him a knowing look. The hunter giggled again, not at all offended by the remark.

"I guess a little more water wouldn’t hurt," he grinned, slipping out of his waistcoat and handing it to her gingerly. "Especially if it’s clean."

"It will be," Jason threatened warmly, shooing him towards the back of the house. "I’ll take care of this, Hercules. You stow those pears, or whatever they are, somewhere safe. I think we’re in for an interesting tale over supper …"

"It was all my grandmother’s fault," Iolaus announced, tackling a plate of stew with enthusiasm. He’d cleaned up quite nicely, swapping his filthy gear for a clean pair of pants and the forest green jerkin that Artemis had given him. Since Jason had opted for a rich red shirt, Alcmene had dressed in silver and Hercules was wearing the gold tunic his mother had gifted him with, he complimented a decidedly festive group. "If I hadn’t stopped by to see her before the festival, then I’d have been here days ago. She asked me to stay, but I told her I’d promised to spend the Solstice in Thebes. She was okay with that," he added with a grin. "I think she had other plans anyway. There’s this chariot maker she’s pretty friendly with these days …"

"My grandma got run over by a chariot," Jason remarked darkly. Alcmene frowned at him and he shrugged. "Well, she did. A four horse, heavy war chariot. She was too old to get out of the way in time. Grandfather was driving …"

"My grandmother," Iolaus emphasised hastily, "is too nimble to let that happen to her. She’s younger than I am. Anyway – " he got back to his story with enthusiasm, ignoring Jason’s puzzlement at his seemingly impossible statement. Hercules threw the older man a look of sympathy, making himself a mental note to explain about Leandra sometime. "I left the village in plenty of time. The weather was good, the road was easy walking, and I had every hope of arriving here in plenty of time – when the first pear hit me."

"The first one," Hercules echoed, glancing at the bowl in the centre of the table. Alcmene had added four of the golden fruits to it and they gleamed in the soft glow of the firelight.

"Yeah," the hunter confirmed matter of factly. "The first one. There were more, but I’m coming to that. This one hit me pretty hard – knocked me off the road and utterly senseless for a few moments. I bounced down a steep slope and came too when I hit the water. That was cold. Guess that’s why I woke up. Anyway – I picked myself up and was just pulling the squashed pear out of my hair, when the dryad grabbed me."

"Dryad?" Alcmene looked alarmed. "You mean those things that are almost as bad as Bacchae?"

"That are as bad as Bacchae," Jason corrected, having had a run in with the creatures once. Iolaus laughed, reaching to break a piece of bread off the loaf and using it to mop up his gravy.

"No," he grinned. "I mean a proper Dryad. You know – skin like soft birch bark, silver green hair crowned with leaves, bodies like …"

"We get the picture," Hercules interrupted hastily. "Hamadryads, huh? They don’t usually make themselves known to mortals."

"That’s what they said. But they were pretty desperate, and I was there, so – "

"One grabbed me. She dragged me over to show me to all the rest. And I tell you, they were the sorriest looking bunch that you could possibly imagine. Soaked though, every one of them. A dozen drippy dryads – half of whom wanted to drown me just because I was mortal. Turned out someone had dammed the stream that ran through their valley, and their trees were up to their waists in water. That had sorta put mortal kind on their ‘least liked flavour of the week’ list."

"I’m not surprised," Alcmene said. "If a hamadryad’s tree dies, so does she. I take it they didn’t drown you."

"Hardly." The hunter smiled his thanks at Jason, who was considerately refilling his goblet from the ale jug. "I volunteered to do a little dambusting. I mean – I knew I’d promised to be here for the Solstice, but it didn’t look like it’d take very long. And they were grateful."

"Yeah. Actually I was a lot muddier – but when the dam went I got caught in the flow. Ended up a good league and half away. If the tide had been in, I’d have been washed out to sea. As it was, I just got washed onto the beach.

"But – " Hercules looked confused. "If you were over a league away from where you were …"

"Yeah, I know. Bothered me, too. Especially since this one was bigger. Far as I could see, it’d just dropped straight out of the sky. I looked around for shelter, just in case, and there was this cave, so – uh - " he shrugged, a little self consciously. "I ran for it. Straight into this bunch of buccaneers, who were not at all happy that I’d turned up. Understandable really. I mean – there was this map of Corinth’s sea defences tacked up on the wall."

"Hey – don’t sweat it." Iolaus waved him back to his seat with an impatient gesture. "This is me, remember? Besides – it was only Blackeyed Bartius and his crew. You know – "

"The bunch Autolycus dubbed ‘the most inept crew this side of Britannia’?" Hercules leant back in his chair and chuckled softly. "Didn’t Salmoneus sell them a ship last year?"

"Yup. They were using the last of it for firewood. ‘Course, they put up a fight, but I needed the exercise. Left them trussed up and sent Iphicles a pigeon to let him know where they were. He might have sent someone to collect them before the tide came in …"

"Wasn’t that a little mean?" Alcmene queried. Her husband reacted with a cynical snort.

"Deserve everything they get, that lot," he decided. "Besides – I think the tide only reaches halfway into the caves on that bit of the coast. They’d have got wet – but hardly drowned."

"Really?" Iolaus’ look of innocent surprise didn’t fool any of them. "I didn’t know that …"

"Oh yeah. Well, after that, I climbed back up the cliff and started to head north again. Blow me, another pear came hurtling out of the sky. Hit me – wham – right between the eyes. Knocked me cold."

"That’s what I thought. Especially since – when I woke up – there was an entire ring of unfriendly faces staring down at me. Ugly bunch. Knew every one of ‘em. You and I had put most of them in jail, Herc."

"Worse. Warlords. Three from Thrace, a couple from Pelagonia, Krios from Lydia – remember him?"

"One of the Paros brothers. Two guys from Karditsa – and Tethiras. The one we ran ragged at Marathon."

"Remember him too. He vowed he’d have both our heads. How come you’ve still got yours?"

Iolaus rolled his eyes and sighed. "They all wanted a piece of me – but they couldn’t agree on which piece. So they tied me up, worked me over a little – I’ve had worse," he assured Alcmene hastily, although that didn’t prevent her frowning and taking another look at the bruises he was sporting. "Then they marched me along the road, arguing over who got to kill me first. To be honest," he admitted, "I really thought my number was up. I was even wondering whether Hades would invite me to his Solstice feast …"

"He probably would," Hercules interjected with a grin. "I hear he and Persephone throw a mean party this time of year."

"They do? Oh, yeah, I guess they would do. Hey – now that you’ve made that arrangement? I’d better remember not to get myself murdered in the summer time."

"I think," Alcmene suggested thoughtfully, "it might be better if you just remembered not to get murdered at all."

"Uh - yeah. Good point. Thing is, I really thought I’d had it. In fact, they were busy discussing the best way to share me out in pieces before they killed me – when we came across Falafal’s stall, standing by the roadside. For once the place smelt pretty good. He’d made a real effort for Solstice – herb stuffing balls, goose cooking on a spit, chestnuts roasting on an open fire – all he lacked was customers.

"He came bustling out, saw me – and my predicament – and went a little white. Give him his due though, he recovered quickly enough. Started offering them sweetmeats and all sorts. Winking at me as he did it. I don’t know why they didn’t spot him, he was that obvious. Guess they were all too hungry to notice. They demanded service, and he brought out a bowl full of jelly and ten spoons. They dived in like a bunch of pigs." He paused and threw his best friend an apologetic look. "No offence."

"None taken," Hercules smiled. His mother shuddered delicately. Jason reached over and clasped her hand.

"Falafel makes good jelly," he considered, deliberately refocusing the conversation. "It’s one of the things he can cook. I don’t suppose they paid him for it."

"Absolutely not." Iolaus grinned widely at the memory. "But then, they were all fast asleep. He’d spiked the stuff with Morpheus’ dust. Seemed he’d bought some thinking it was nutmeg and had been longing for a chance to use it. He cut me free and we both hi-tailed it out of there. I suggested he went to Athens for his health and he completely agreed."

"Good suggestion." Hercules sighed. "I didn’t know that lot were out. I suppose we’ll have to round them all up again …"

"After the festival," his partner assured him, looking hopefully at the honey cake. "They’ll be asleep for days yet."

Alcmene reached over and cut the cake, handing it round with a smile. "What happened after that?" she asked and the hunter grinned.

"I got half a league and – splat – another pear. Side of my head. I heard bells."

"Yeah – I – hey. Not those kind of bells. Jingle bells. Lots of them. Off in the woods. I went to take a look and – " A warm and reminiscent smile wreathed its way onto his face. "You’ll never believe what I saw."

"What?" the three of them chorused; his smile got even wider and he heaved a happy sigh.

"The Muses. All of them. They were dancing in that old amphitheatre – you know? The ruined one, set into the side of Alkman’s hill."

"I know it," Jason breathed, looking at the hunter with decided wonder. "It’s a wild, deserted place. There are statues of the Muses cut into the cliff wall …"

"These weren’t statues," Iolaus assured him, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "Not doing what I saw."

"The Muses," Hercules pointed out, a little sternly, "happen to be my sisters. They always dance at this time of the year. Sending out inspiration for poets and musicians. I hope you didn’t disturb them. They take their work very seriously."

"I know." The hunter looked a little hurt at the implied rebuke. "I watched for a little bit – and then I sneaked away. Couldn’t get the tune they were using out of my head though. It’s been there ever since. Needs words …"

"Is that what you were whistling when you arrived?" Alcmene handed him another slice of honey cake and frowned affectionately at her son. Sometimes he took his divine heritage too much for granted.

"That’s it. Catchy, huh? I was humming it as I headed over the hill – that’s probably why the maidens heard me coming."

"Maidens?" Hercules questioned, sitting up and giving him a suspicious look. "Hestian Virgins?"

"No," Iolaus shot back, "just common or garden maidens … Of course they were Hestian Virgins. They’d been sent out from the temple to gather winter violets to go on her altar – and hadn’t found a single flower all day. Then I turn up, munching on a pear – did I mention the next pear? I caught that one before it did any damage."

Jason thoughtfully worked the numbers out on his fingers, then surreptitious showed his whole hand to Hercules, who nodded in quiet confirmation. "And the maidens?" the son of Zeus prompted, since his friend had paused to take a huge mouthful of cake.

"Mmm? Oh, yeah – well, they weren’t quite as sorry a bunch as the dryads, but they were pretty miserable. Just sitting around, complaining about aching feet and what the High Priestess was going to say if they went home empty handed. I was practically mobbed the moment I strolled into their clearing – three of them insisted on telling me all their woes, four immediately demanded that I help them, and the last one actually threatened to accuse me of all sorts of dire deeds if I didn’t …

"So I did. Help them, that is. Those winter violets are hard to find if you don’t know where to look, but I do, so - once I’d shown them the trick of it - it didn’t take that long to fill their baskets. Which reminds me …" He dug his hand inside his tunic and produced a somewhat battered bunch of delicate, purple flowers, which he handed to Alcmene with a flourish. "I saved a few for you – they’ve got roots on, so you could plant them out if you wanted."

"Why, thank you, Iolaus." She held them out for Jason to inspect, then threw a teasing glance in her son’s direction. "You never give me flowers," she accused and he coloured a little, glaring reproachfully at his friend, who giggled at his expression.

"Herc always picks some," Iolaus defended loyally. "It’s just that we usually end up trouncing a few bandits, or racing off to someone’s rescue and they never quite survive the experience."

"I know," Alcmene smiled. "Oh, don’t look like that, Hercules. I was only teasing. Having you safe home is a far better gift than anything else you could ever give me. But these are lovely," she assured the hunter warmly. "I’m sure Hestia was pleased."

"Oh, I hope so." Iolaus settled back into his chair and recovered his goblet, taking an appreciative sip of its contents. "It was getting late, so I escorted the maidens to the edge of the wood and explained that I’d promised to be home by the Solstice, so they had to take themselves the rest of the way. To be honest, they’d gone on complaining the entire time, so I was glad of the excuse. Not that it was an excuse," he added a little hastily. "I followed the main road for a while, and was just about to cut back into the woods when – thwup – another pear hurtled past me and – thwat – hit something in among the trees. Next thing I know, I’m surrounded by indignant Centaurs, all demanding to know if I’d been the one to throw it.

"I denied it, of course, but they just wouldn’t believe me. Insisted I’d insulted their leader’s honour and that I had to make up for it somehow. It had hit him square on the rump," he explained. "And it had been a very gooey pear …"

"The worst thing you can injure is a centaur’s dignity," Jason remarked, speaking from personal experience. Hercules nodded a sage agreement.

"Yeah, well – uh – see … They thought I’d been using them for target practice. So they decided the only thing to do was return the favour. Even though I hadn’t been, and they had twenty eight legs between them where I only had two. And bows of course. They did give me a head start though. Just as well, really …"

"They were shooting at you?" Alcmene looked shocked. "That doesn’t seem very fair."

"That’s rather what I thought – until one of them actually hit me. See - I’d taken off like a hare as soon as I’d figured what I thought they’d intended – and I’d nearly reached cover, when this arrow came whistling in …" The hunter chuckled at the memory. "Would you believe they were using paint? It’s some new game they’ve invented. You take two teams into the woods, each armed with a bow and a set of arrows with big fat padded points on them – and then you dip the pads in coloured paint and fire them at each other. Last team left with an unmarked player wins."

"You’re kidding," Jason reacted. Hercules – who was looking decidedly relieved – shook his head.

"No, he’s not. I’ve heard of that – something Salmoneus dreamed up, I think. ‘Paint-arrowing’ I believe it’s called."

"That’s it," Iolaus said. "And it is enormous fun. Well – not so much fun when you’re the only one without a bow, but – I promised I’d go back in the new year and give them a proper match." He grinned hopefully at his two friends. "Wanna come?"

"Erm – well - " Hercules began, but was interrupted by Jason’s hearty slap on his shoulder.

"Sound’s like fun," the older man decided. "Game like that - three of us – we’ll be unbeatable."

His stepson did not look convinced. "I don’t know - " he tried, only to be drowned out by his partner’s whoop of pleasure.

"Nowhere near as dangerous as what happened to me next," Iolaus announced, drawing his and their attention back to his story. "It was dark by the time I left the centaurs, so I was busy looking for a place to camp and – pow - yet another pear hurtled out of nowhere and knocked me flying. I rolled down the hillside, bounced into a thorn bush and was picking myself up again when I spotted flames about half a league away. A big farm fire – by the time I reached the place, the barn and a good three or four other buildings were ablaze.

"There were half a dozen armed bandits, circling the settlement like hungry wolves, eagerly waiting for the farmer and his family to make a break for it. There were children in there, Herc. Screaming in terror. I didn’t know which way to turn. Deal with the bad guys – or rescue the kids."

"You went for the kids," Hercules murmured confidently. The hunter threw him a wry look.

"Yeah. I - went for the kids." He paused to gulp another mouthful of ale, unquestionably wrestling with the memory that went along with that simple statement. "The house was full of smoke. Hot smoke, too. It was hard to breath. The farmer had – uh – barricaded an inner door and … Well," he concluded, unwilling to dwell on the experience. "I got them out. The old man, his daughter, and three little ones. The – uh – roof fell in as we staggered out into the yard."

Jason winced in sympathy. Hercules frowned. "And the bandits?" he asked softly. Iolaus cracked an unexpected grin.

"Oh –ah - " he said, relishing that memory a lot more than the previous one, "there I was, facing down a whole bunch of naked swords … oh, except for the ringleader," he noted. "He was stood there, eating one of my pears. Anyway – I had the farmer’s daughter hanging on one arm, and two of the kids clinging to my knees, so I didn’t have much manoeuvring room. The nearest bandit lifted his weapon -"

He mimicked the gesture dramatically, pulling his audience to the edge of their seats.

"And - " Iolaus laughed. "Phut." He flicked his hand in supporting demonstration, bringing a knowing smile to his partner’s face.

"Uhuh. Phut. And again. Phut. Phut. Twice more. Phut, Phut. The bandits never knew what hit them. Their leader took one look and turned and ran – as if the beasts of Hecate were at his heels."

"Nope. Something far worse. Xena has this thing about bad guys who try to kill kids." He paused to savour the thought and his grin got a little wider. "Be nice to think she also has a thing about bad guys who try to kill me, but – " he shrugged. "I was glad to see her, anyway. There wasn’t anything we could do to save the house, but we rescued several goats and a couple of horses out of the barn. The farmer was very grateful. Especially when we tied up the bandits and promised him he could take them into Thebes to claim the reward. Should be enough to help him rebuild, at least."

"That was very nice of you," Alcmene decided, smiling at her son as if to say ‘you did a good job there.’ Hercules blushed a little at the look.

"Fine," Iolaus said. "I told her about the pears and – well everything that had happened, and she decided I probably needed an escort. So we set out together this morning. We’d gone – oh – half a league, when – "

"You got it. Xena snatched it out of the air just before it hit me. She took a thoughtful look, muttered ‘now there’s an interesting curse’, and gave it to Argo for breakfast. I didn’t think it was a curse, but I was beginning to wonder. That was when Archivus appeared. With Phoebe and Mopsus and Echion in tow."

"Echion?" Jason looked surprised. "I thought he’d put down roots on Andros. He didn’t even make the reunion."

"Apparently he’s back in Corinth. Something about a cousin getting married? I told him where to look you up … Actually, we’re likely to get all them in a day or two. Xena will find some way of persuading Archivus she doesn’t need anyone else writing her biography."

"You know perfectly well that your old shipmates are welcome here. Go on, Iolaus. I want to know about the pears."

"I’m coming to that. Turned out the guys had got lost, and needed to get back to the road. You know Mopsus. Great navigator at sea, hopeless on land. They were real glad to see me – if a little amused by the state I was in. Xena told them about the pears and .Archivus was positive it was a curse. He said I attracted that sort of thing. But I told Phoebe to keep her eyes open. If anyone could spot where they were coming from, it was going to be her.

"Sure enough – another half league and – splat. Another pear. A real messy one. I was getting pretty tired of the whole business by then – especially when everybody else thought it was hilarious. And that included Gabrielle and Ephiny and Lilith who chose that moment to turn up on Xena’s trail. Seems there was trouble brewing between an outcast tribe and an Amazon friendly village; Ephiny had asked Lilith to help out and then they’d met Gabrielle who’d suggested Xena might have a solution."

"Oh," he laughed, "I was just getting pelted with pears. They were trying to stop a war. I thought that might be a little more important. So did Xena."

"I can see where she might," Hercules noted thoughtfully. "Had Phoebe seen where the pear had come from?"

"Yup. She pointed me at a nearby hill and once I’d waved everybody else off on their mission of mercy, I set out to find out what was going on. To be honest, I thought it was safer with me going alone. I’d already figured there had to be a god involved in it somewhere – and if it were Ares … well, I know he has a thing for Xena, but – I kinda like my friends in one piece and in this world."

Yes – and no," the hunter grinned. "It was a pretty weird place. Especially since there wasn’t even a hill there last time I passed that way. There was high fence, with spikes and a lot of unfriendly ‘keep out’ kind of notices – but the gate opened when I got to it, so I figured I might have been expected. It seemed to be some kind of orchard. There were fruit trees of all sorts – apples, peaches, plums – but I couldn’t find a pear tree anywhere. I was about half way up the hill when another pear whizzed by my ear. Followed almost immediately by an arrow.

"And followed immediately after that by a panicked figure in white leathers, who ran straight into me. We went down in a tangled heap and collided with a nearby tree. I’d found Ares all right – except it was the other Ares. The one from the Sovereign’s dimension?"

"The god of Love?" Hercules sat up with concern. "Someone had opened the vortex?"

Iolaus shook his head. "Not exactly. He helped me up and went to dust me down – until he realised how filthy I was. He took a rapid step back after that. Straight into Cupid, who immediately grabbed hold of him."

"Ours. He was pretty angry though. You know – I’ve never seen Ares whimper before. Weird sight."

"I bet." Hercules tried to picture the image, and shook his head disconcertedly.

"Weirder still was watching him fall to his knees and beg me to save him. I did kinda owe the guy a favour, so I asked Cupid what was going on. He gave me an odd look and told me to follow him. Which I did. He frog-marched his captive up the hill and there, right at the very top, was a pear tree. A huge pear tree, with golden, shimmering leaves and even goldener fruit – with Aphrodite perched way up in the branches. She looked down as we arrived, said ‘oh, you caught him’ to Cupid, then spotted me.

"Curly! she cried. You know she calls me that … ‘What kept you? I’ve been up here all night!"

Comprehension dawned. "She was the one throwing the pears at you," Jason exclaimed.

"Right. Apparently she’d been trying to attract my attention. She could have put a note in one …"

"Turns out," he explained, "that Ares – the other Ares – had found a way to sneak into Aphrodite’s orchard and he’d been stealing fruit for years. All his trees have been dying on him apparently. Cupid got Hepheastus to make a very special fruit tree to catch the thief, but hadn’t told his mother – who couldn’t resist the lure and had climbed the tree herself.

"Cupid had turned up to capture the villain, found his mother stuck up the tree and the mirror image of his father lurking in the undergrowth. He’d gone after Ares while Aphrodite had bombarded the mortal world with pears to get help. Which turned out to be me," the hunter considered, clearly unsure if this had been a good or a bad thing.

"Because," Hercules realised, smiling at his partner with affection, "Hephaestus had probably crafted a trap for an Immortal thief. Anyone with Immortal blood in them would have ended up as trapped as she was."

"That was more or less the problem. I did point out to Cupid that it might have been Autolycus stealing the apples, but he didn’t seem to think that was very likely. Anyway, I climbed the tree and helped Dite down again – you’d have thought she’d have been grateful, but all she did was complain about me being icky and why had I taken so long to get there.

"Maybe. She did say I could pick as many pears as I wanted. Which I did. She and Cupid took the other Ares away somewhere – I think they were going to get Zeus to send him home. I loaded up the basket he left – and here I am."

"Just in time for the Solstice" Alcmene approved with a smile. "You do lead an exciting life, Iolaus."

Iolaus stared at him, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You don’t believe a word I’ve said," he accused. "Do you?"

"It did all sound a little fantastic," Jason remarked. "Like something from a song."

"A song!" Iolaus brightened immediately. "Of course. My story – the Muse’s tune … Jason, you’re a genius."

Saying which, the hunter bounced to his feet, struck a pose in front of the fire – and launched into a rendition of a song that has survived through the centuries. Albeit in a slightly modified form …

Twelve Dryads dripping
Eleven Pirates plotting
Ten Warlords sleeping
Nine Muses dancing
Eight Maidens moping
Seven Centaurs shooting
Six Greeks a slaying
Five Chakram flings …
Four Argonauts
Three Amazons
Two Gods of Love
- And Aphrodite in a pear tree!

A much parodied Christmas song was once again badly mangled during the course of this tale.
The author makes absolutely no apology for this whatsoever.

'Paint Arrowing' is now being played at a number of selected sites up and down the country. Bookings are limited, so sign up today!

'I'll be Home for Solstice'. Disclaimer:This story has been written for love rather than profit and is not intended to violate any copyrights held by Universal, Pacific Rennaisance, or any other holders of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys trademarks or copyrights.
© 2000. Written by Pythia. Reproduced by Penelope Hill