Free Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 02 by Serpent's Shadow Page A

He slapped Hercules' arm lightly. "This is Hercules."
    The boy gaped. 'T he Hercules?"
    Hercules didn't know how to respond to the boy's tone of awe, so he simply nodded. After all this time on the road, he knew he should be used to people's reactions when they met him, but it still made him uncomfortable. Very often stories of his exploits were, to say the least, considerably embellished by the time he caught up with them, and nothing he could say could convince people otherwise. They believed what they wanted to.
    "Wow," the young man said.
    Iolaus chuckled under his breath and gave Hercules a nudge. "What did I tell you?" he whispered. "Famous."
    The stable boy frowned as he scratched through his thick brown hair. "So you're going to decide who's the summer queen?"
    "Right again," Iolaus said proudly. "Now look, we'd love to stay and chat, but we—"
    "You're going to kill her," the young man accused quietly. Then loudly: "You're going to kill her!"
    Hercules and Iolaus exchanged confused looks, but their questions went unasked when the young man vanished into the stable's dark interior.
    Iolaus scratched his head. "City people are weird," he concluded.
    He might have said more, but an angry shout interrupted him.
    It was the stable boy, charging them with a pitchfork in his hands.
    Iolaus barely managed to sidestep the tines, and Hercules didn't have time to think—he stepped to his left as he grabbed the shaft and pulled it to yank the young man off his feet. The stable boy's momentum carried him headfirst into the wall across the street.
    The wall didn't give.
    "Ouch," Iolaus said with a sympathetic wince.
    Stunned, the stable boy looked at him, blinked once very slowly, and began a slow collapse.
    In two quick strides, Hercules was beside him. He scooped him up in his arms and carried him into the stable, where he placed him on a bed of straw.
    "What was that all about?" Iolaus asked.
    "1 don't know. Get some water."
    Iolaus searched until he found a bucket and a ladle. When he gazed down at the unconscious boy, he looked at the ladle and simply tossed it over his shoulder before emptying the bucket on the boy's head.
    The boy sat up instantly, sputtering and yelling.
    Hercules put him down again with a firm hand against his chest, waiting patiently until the young man grumbled into a sullen silence.
    "Explain," Hercules demanded gently.
    The stable boy glared.
    Iolaus stood at the young man's feet, one hand grasping his still-sheathed sword. "You heard him.
    What's going on?"
    A long moment passed before the young man said, "My name is Holix, and you're going to kill the woman I love."

    Shadows began to drift into the streets.
    Lanterns on posts and overhanging roofs kept the major streets alight while side streets and alleys slipped into dusk.
    Hercules and Iolaus strode purposefully toward the center of the city, not speaking, ignoring the pedestrians who drifted from shop to shop, inn to inn. Their numbers were fewer now, mostly latecomers searching for a place to sleep. In preparation for the next day's festival, the city had grown quiet, as if gathering its energy for the celebrations to come.
    The plaza was nearly deserted.
    A few workmen still scrambled over the stands that had been constructed on the open square's east and west ends, making sure the seats wouldn't collapse under the weight of those who'd be privileged enough to use them. Strands of blossoms, from orchids to daisies, had been festooned between the pillars. The tiles and paving stones were being scrubbed one last time. More torches, more lanterns were lit, their glow brightening as the sun neared the horizon.
    The two men paused as they left the boulevard.
    On the far side they saw a group of ten men at the top of eight wide steps, standing beneath an elaborately carved roof.
    "The council," Iolaus guessed. There was little enthusiasm left in his voice.
    Hercules said nothing.
    By the time Holix had finished his story—and had asked, somewhat