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  The Beast Within 
 by Margui  
 


 THE BEAST WITHIN

 Iolaus wandered through the small village with no real aim as to where he
was going. "Small is an understatement," he mused as he looked around. The
village consisted of a few modest homes, a small inn, a mercantile and a
tavern. "A tavern", he reflected again. He didn't recognize how hungry or
thirsty he had become. His aim was suddenly realized as he walked toward
the small structure.

 It was late in the afternoon and the sun began to intermingle with the
tall trees of the thicket just west of the village. The town was bathed in
ripples of sunlight.

 The tavern was old and dilapidated, and as Iolaus continued to survey the
dive, it occurred to him that the structure seemed older than dirt itself.
"This place should have been condemned years ago," he thought as he walked
toward the aged building. 

 The consideration for this old building was lost on Iolaus. Its crumbling
rock frame seemed ready to give into the wilderness of the massive thicket
as it encroached on its outside wall.

 Iolaus walked into the dimly lit tavern. He took a moment inside the door
to adjust to the absence of light before he proceeded toward the center of
the small structure.

 The tavern smelled of ale and vomit, sweat and blood. The malodorous
combination would have made even the hungriest man almost loose his
appetite. He surveyed the room.

 Three chairs stood along a narrow bar. A burly bartender was behind the
bar, carefully watering down the ale and wine. Above the bar, along the
wall was a small plaque. It read, "In Gods We Trust. All Others Pay
Dinars".

 The blonde warrior chuckled to himself. This homey touch seemed
uncharacteristically out of place in this filthy dive.

 He looked to his left and noticed three small tables, each surrounded by
two or three chairs. The first two tables were occupied by several drunks.
One group sat in a stupor; their heads resting on the ale soaked table.
Iolaus watched as one man turned his head up and poured the ale down his
throat barely lifting the cup off the table.

 The other group was louder and much more exuberant. He listened as one
hunter told of his latest endeavor. The antlers on the stag continued to
grow each time the man mentioned his prize. The hunter appeared as if he
hadn't had a bath in a month. Dirt and grime formed a heavy barrier on his
clothes, the blue cloth was almost unrecognizable. His drinking partner
was equally unkempt. His gray beard had the crumbs of what appeared to be
several meals embedded in it.

 "What can I get for you," the bartender said in a toothless grin bringing
Iolaus' attention back to his hunger.

 "Got any food?" Iolaus asked hopefully.

 "The wife brought in her usual gruel. You're welcome to try some, but I
warn you, it requires a cast iron stomach."

 "Bring it on, and oh, some ale please," Iolaus said without much
enthusiasm. Any food was better than none when your stomach was growling
like the Nemean Lion.

 Iolaus safely ensconced himself at the table at the far end of the
tavern. Hercules had promised to meet him there when he was finished with
his business in Thermopylae. He didn't expect his friend for another two
or three days, so he had to find a way to occupy his time.

 Iolaus was going over his itinerary in his mind. He decided he would
start the new day with a fishing trip. He was lost in his thoughts when
the bartender walked up with his meal and a mug of ale.

 "Do you know a good fishing spot around here?" Iolaus asked the toothless
man.

 "That'll be three dinars," the bartender said, ignoring the question and
almost throwing the meal on the table.

 Iolaus reached into his money pouch and pulled out the coins. He spilled
them on the flat surface next to his meal.

 The bartender scooped them up and walked away.

 "Sure are friendly folk around here," Iolaus said to himself. He took a
spoonful of the stew, sniffing the concoction before tasting.

 "This stew is Fal-awful tasting," Iolaus exclaimed out loud. He dropped
his spoon back into the bowl.

 Suddenly the door of the tavern flew open, startling most of the patrons.
The room filled with the illumination of a bright day and the occupants
groaned in response to the sudden change in light.

 A young mother, tears streaming down her face stood in the doorway. "The
monster's taken my baby! The monster's taken Breccia!" The young woman
gasped. She fell to her knees in the doorway. "Somebody please help me."
The young mother looked older than her years. Her brown hair was streaked
with silver. Her maroon dress fit loosely over her gaunt frame. The hands
that soon hid her wrinkled face were bony and callused. She dropped her
head into her palms as she continued to sob. 

 "Didn't we get rid of that thing a couple of years ago?" the dirt
encrusted hunter asked. He didn't seem to be the least bit concerned for
this woman's plight.

 "Naw, we searched. Never found him," his companion said from the table.
His lack of concern was equaled to his drinking partner.

 "What is with you people?" Iolaus thought as he listened to the banter of
the two hunters. "Can't they see how distraught this woman is."

 "She's gone, I tell you. The monster took her. Just like the other four,"
the woman shrieked. She searched the room for someone who would listen.

 "Whoa. What's this I hear about a monster?" Iolaus asked as he got up
from his chair and approached the distraught mother. He grabbed a chair
from the first table and gently helped the shaking woman to the seat.

 "Who are you?" she asked. 

 Most of the men in the village were afraid of the monster, or were only
interested in drinking and carousing. This was why it still roamed the
thicket and still accosted the children. She looked into Iolaus' kind,
blue eyes. He seemed genuinely concerned. 

 "My name's Iolaus. I'd like to help. What's this about a monster?"

 The bartender spoke up, "Well, if you listen to the rantings of my drunk
patrons or the ravings of a dozen of hysterical woman in this village,
then the thicket is full with them." He then went back to his business of
watering down more ale.

 Iolaus looked around the room. "Has anyone seen this monster?" he
inquired.

 "Humph," the grimy drinker said in response. "So a couple of sniveling
kids decided to run away from home. I'd go too, if the old woman didn't
have me chained here. We haven't actually seen the monster in two years."

 "Well, when you did see it, what did it look like?" Iolaus grumbled as he
approached the drunken man. He tried to control the anger in his voice. He
could not believe the lackadaisical attitude of the men in this village.
None seemed to care that their children were disappearing.

 The hunter looked up at Iolaus from the table. He tried to focus on what
the blonde man was asking. He blinked his bloodshot eyes before
responding." All I remember was it was large and mean looking."

 "That could describe half of you in here. I need more to go on than
that."

 "Well, we can't give you more," the drunk slurred as he began pouring ale
down his gullet. He continued his story. "No one has ever seen it clearly.
It lurks in the darkest part of the thicket where even the sun dares not
go. Some say it walks on four legs, some say two. Some say the beast takes
the form of a man or a woman, the moment before it devours its prey. All
we know it its a demon from Tartarus and it steals our children."

 Iolaus looked from man to man. "But no one has actually seen this thing?"
he asked. If there was one thing that he had learned from Hercules; it was
not to judge a rolled up scroll by its parchment

 Another drunk had swaggered up to Iolaus. The man was about the size of
Hercules and towered over the smaller man. "Look at you. Are you planning
on doing something about the monster?" he asked in a challenge.

 Iolaus squared his shoulders. "I've killed a few monsters in my time. But
before I start thoughtlessly wielding my sword, I'd kind of like to know
what I'm up against. No one has actually seen it?" He question again
disbelieving. He was answered by several men shaking their heads.

 "I mean this could be a monster of your imagination only. You know how
hunters like to exaggerate. And if there is a beast out there, it may or
may not be responsible for the loss of your children." 

 The crowd dismissed Iolaus' contempt and walked back to their respective
tables. They were not interested in searching for the errant child. He was
angry about the carelessness that this village exhibited. No one wanted to
risk their life to find the responsible party, nor did they seem to care
if he took the initiative.

 Iolaus turned to the woman who had lost her child. Her tears had dried
and a look of hope returned to her face. "Where was your child last,
before you found her missing?"

 The woman grasped Iolaus' strong hands. "May the Gods bless you," she
said. When she released his hands, he folded one of hers between his.

 His grip was tight and reassuring. "Show me where," he said as he walked
the woman out.

 The area just west of the tavern was thick with brambles, briers and
tough vines, which served as an almost impenetrable doorway to the thicket
beyond. He recognized one plant that was nick named, 'the widow's thorn'.
It was extremely poisonous and had killed many a man that had an
unfortunate encounter with it. A child had no chance of surviving if
pricked by its deadly thorns.

 The woman directed Iolaus toward a hole in the thicket. Iolaus bent down
to get a better look. "How in the world had the little girl managed to
squeeze through there?" he thought. "I don't even think a rabbit could
pass through there." But then he remembered squeezing through places
tighter than that as a boy.

 Iolaus pulled his sword from the sheath. Using a crosswise motion, Iolaus
cut through the thick vines to gain access to the dark thicket in front of
him.

 "I'm sure she's just lost," he said, gently trying to reassure the young
woman. He patted her hand and then disappeared into the thicket.

 Iolaus looked around for signs that would suggest the little girl had
indeed traveled into the wilds and had gotten lost. The woods were dark
and damp, making any evidence he could find a precious commodity.

 He found a few broken branches and followed those toward the center of
the thicket. He caught a glimpse of an animal's footprint. He bent down to
examine the tracks. The soft soil around the prints suggested they were
fairly fresh.

 The footprints were unlike any he had ever seen. The tracks belonged to
that of a large beast, the footprint similar to a wolf or large cat. It
was wider across the center than a wolf's and was vertically longer. The
creature was definitely traveling on all fours.

 He continued to follow the footprints unabated deeper into the thicket.

 The farther in Iolaus went, the darker the wilderness had become. He
looked up at the canopy of trees. It was effectively keeping the sun from
reaching the thicket's realm., as effectively as thick dark clouds masking
the sun during a torrential rain.

 Iolaus stopped to observe his surroundings once more before proceeding
into the thicket. When he looked behind him he noticed a slow rolling fog
was coming in. "Where did this come from?" he thought. He watched it as it
moved toward him and began to swirl around his legs.

 The fog had efficiently obscured the footprints he was following.

 "Great, now what?" he mumbled. The light of the day was descending and it
would soon turn into night. Iolaus had to decide whether to continue
searching the thicket; forcing him to camp for the night, or return to the
company of the town. He mulled it over in his brain.

 "Okay Iolaus," he began to think out loud. "You can return to the village
for a hot meal and a warm bed and resume the search tomorrow, or you can
spend the night here where at any moment a monster might jump out and grab
you." Iolaus lifted his right hand and then his left, "Let's see, monster
or comfort, comfort or monster? Definitely monster." He decided to
continue.

 The mournful cry of an animal escaped from the woods and Iolaus quickly
turned toward the sound. The animal's howl sounded as if it was injured.

 Iolaus pulled out his sword and held it out in front of him. He knew a
wounded animal was a dangerous animal. He carefully walked toward the
howling.

 He saw the flash of an animal out of the corner of his eye. It was large,
brown and had quick speed. He turned and walked toward the area where the
animal had fled. The smell of decaying flesh was his new found guide. He
followed the putrid smell until he came to the animal's lair.

 A smaller animal lay on its side in the lair. Its hide was pierced with a
crude arrow that had splintered upon entering the beast. It was apparent
that the animal did not die immediately but mustered the strength to come
back to its lair. The odor and evidence of decay, suggested that it had
been dead for some time.

 The beast was not familiar to Iolaus and he had never seen one like it
before. It was larger than any wolf he had encountered, almost equaling
the size of Cerberus. The long front legs and shorter back legs displayed
powerful muscles.

 It had an incredibly large chest cavity and course guard hairs that went
down the back. The stiff guard hairs stood up on its spine much like a
frightened cat and were considerably darker in color. The beast had no
spots or stripes, but was a uniform gray-brown. It had a large head and
neck. Its mouth revealed massive, sharp canines. Clearly this beast was a
carnivore.

 Iolaus bent down to examined the paws. They were identical to the
footprints he had followed at the edge of the thicket. There was no doubt
that this beast was like the one he had been following.

 Iolaus looked around the lair. Off to his left he found a cluster of
bones. He walked over to them and knelt down. He fumbled through the
stack, trying to identify each one. Many were old, cleaned by age and
weathered by time. Some were of smaller animals. There were the remains of
a couple of rabbits and the hollow bones of a few large birds. One round
bone buried under leaves caught his attention.

 He sifted through the bones and dug it out of the wet, clump of leaves.

 The bone was the skull of a small child. Iolaus looked back at the dead
animal. He was glad that someone had killed the beast, but right now he
had wished it was him. Tears welled in the eyes of the hunter. He did not
relish the idea of telling the village what had happened to at least one
of their children and now he suspected that all were a victim of this
monster.

 Lost in thought, Iolaus was surprised when he heard the snap from a
fallen tree limb. He turned around at the sound. His sword was in his hand
and was ready to strike. The beast he spied fleeing may have come back.

 Instead of seeing the four-legged monster he had expected, he saw a
figure dressed in a dark, flowing cloak. When the figure glimpsed Iolaus
at the animal's lair, it turned its back and fled.

 "Hey, wait," Iolaus cried out. He sheathed his sword and began to follow
the cloaked figure.

 The caped figure seemed very much in his element in these primordial
woodlands. Quick and agile, the apparition was able to traverse the
thicket floor, adeptly jumping over downed trees and skirting copses of
brambles and vines.

 Iolaus, on the other hand, not being familiar with the woodlands seemed
to stumble over every root and moss covered hole as he followed the
cloaked figure. It didn't help that night was quickly falling on the
already darkened woods.

 Iolaus was quickly loosing ground in the unfamiliar territory. The
cloaked form was slowly disappearing into the fog and into the gloom.

 The night was descending rapidly, so the hunter stopped and checked his
surroundings for landmarks one last time before he continued pursuing the
stranger.

 He watched as the hooded figure suddenly seemed to be pulled back into a
copse of brambles and widow's thorn. It was almost as if a hand had
reached up from the brambles and grabbed the stranger. As he continued to
approach the apparition he could see that the cloak was caught on a mass
of tangled thorns.

 The figure tugged at the covering, trying to free it from the spikes. It
would not yield.

 "Wait," Iolaus implored as he got closer. He could almost imagine the
stranger's panic in response to his approach. The figure pulled on the
material in urgency and haste as Iolaus cautiously continued toward the
stranger.

 Glancing at the pursuer one last time, the stranger gave up and quickly
slipped out of the cloak. The conglomeration of vines finally claimed its
prize. The figure disappeared into the darkness without the blonde hunter
immediately following in pursuit.

 The cackle of an animal broke the silence of the woodlands and echoed
from behind Iolaus. He quickly drew his sword and swung around. The cackle
was followed by a strange maniacal laugh. It was as if the animal was
mocking him.

 Iolaus was beginning to regret his decision to stay in the thicket. The
beast cackled again. It was on the move, and it was approaching the
hunter. Iolaus moved back as he surveyed the area around him. The dim
light made it impossible for him to see clearly. The darkness in the
thicket was mounting too quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, Iolaus
made out a movement to the left. He whirled around, his sword out in front
of him.

 The beast was as silent in its approach as the fog was earlier in the
day. Iolaus' instincts could tell that the animal was moving closer and
forcing him back ever so slowly. Looking around to maintain his bearings,
he could see another shadowy beast approaching him, this time to his
right. Iolaus continued to back up. As he did so, he was edging closer and
closer to the copse of brambles and spikes that the stranger had so
recently encountered.

 The animals seemed to have the intelligence of wickedly skillful hunters.
They continued to circle the blonde man, forcing him back toward the mess
of thorns. They never veered close enough for Iolaus to strike, but always
stayed within the depths of obscurity. One beast cackled again, followed
by the maniacal laughter of the other. It was disarming and beginning to
drive Iolaus to distraction.

 As Iolaus focused on the beast to his immediate left, the other
approached from his backside. The beast deliberately put himself between
Iolaus and the copse of brambles. Once positioned, he then voiced a
menacing growl that forced Iolaus to turn around. The animal quickly fled
from the area. and Iolaus watched as the skillful carnivores set the trap.

 With the swiftness that could only belong to an animal of the forest, the
beast that was Iolaus' focus earlier, was now at his back. The animal
jumped onto the hunter, finally forcing him into the mishmash of brambles,
vines and widow's thorn.

 The weight of the large beast on his back carried Iolaus into the bushes,
head first.

 As he tumbled down, a large thorn struck the hunter's face, cutting a
long, thin line from the top of his forehead to the middle of his cheek.
In its trek, the spike tore a ridge across his left eyelid, splitting it
open. The poisonous sap of the widow's thorn burned with an intensity
Iolaus could not have conceived.

 Another thorn pierced his right temple, only millimeters from his right
eye.

 He heard the thorn snap as it broke the skin and plunged into his
unprotected cornea. Iolaus screamed.

 He continued to fall into the brambles of thorns, each centimeter
bringing him a new sensation of pain as the thorns continued to pierce and
claw at his face, chest and arms. It seemed as if his falling was endless,
but it did end and he finally rested in a bed of painful thorns.

 He could hear the cackling of the creature on his back, recognizing it
would probably be the last sound he would hear as the animal bent down for
the final assault to his throat. Then Iolaus heard the distinctive whoosh
of an arrow across his face. He heard the maniacal laughter gurgle to a
stop and felt the full weight of the dead animal as it dropped onto his
back, forcing him deeper into the bed of thorns.

 The arrow had missed his head by only a small margin, but struck the
beast squarely in the chest. He hoped the archer's aim was true and the
intended target was indeed the beast hunched on his back.

 The other creature could sense the archer's approach from the distance
and side-stepped away from the threat. A chilling growl escaped its mouth
before it retreated.

 Another arrow was released, but the movement of the beast caused the
arrow to only graze its mark. The animal cried out in pain and scurried
into the fog of the thicket floor.

 Iolaus struggled to get up but the weight of the animal held him firm.

 He could hear the crunch of the dried leaves as the archer neared. He was
able to raise his head just high enough to see his benefactor but Iolaus
had to strain to see through his bloodstained eyes. The eye that was
punctured by the thorn refused to cooperate. It's vision remained dark. He
still had some sight in his left eye, but his eyelid was beginning to
swell. He forced his eyelid to open as wide as he could.

 Iolaus was unable to recognize any features, but the soft curves of the
figure against the muted shades of the surviving light would suggest his
benefactor was most definitely a woman. The slight movement of his head
caused another thorn to stab into his neck. He winced in pain.

 She stood with the long bow still in her hands, the arrow's shaft aimed
at Iolaus.

 "You know, you might accidentally shoot me with that thing if you keep
pointing it in this direction," he said when he noticed he was still a
target.

 "Listen, I need your help." Iolaus said as he grimaced, "My name is
Iolaus." 

 The denizen of the woodlands remained fixed; her hands steady as she
continued her aim on the blonde hunter. 

 "Oh, I see," Iolaus said seeing her resolve, "then I guess it's a
little..." he swallowed hard as a pain stabbed through him, "...premature
to thank you for coming to my rescue." In his current predicament, he was
defenseless. 

 Suddenly, Iolaus clutched at his chest and drew his legs toward his torso
as raw pain ravaged his chest cavity. The archer recognized the pain. The
poison from the widow's thorn was beginning to course through his body.
She had hoped the dry autumn would have spared him from the poisonous sap.


 The burning in his chest was intense and was threatening to take away his
senses. The pain was aggravated as more spikes pierced his flesh as he
writhed in agony. 

 Through the racking pain, he struggled to say something, but in the
struggle unconsciousness claimed him. The archer could not decipher the
echoless croaking coming out of the pain stricken man. It sounded like
Hurc or hurt. She could not be sure. 

 His benefactor watched the motionless hunter for several minutes,
deciding what to do next. She nudged the still form lightly with her foot,
making sure the hunter was indeed unconscious and not setting a trap. The
blonde man remained quiet. 

 She didn't understand why she could not regard him with the same
dispassion as she would a rabbit caught in a snare. She had every
intention of killing the man that had pursued her earlier. 

 She wondered at what point she became so hardened to human life. Like
exotic cats, the beasts of the forest would kill not only to sustain
themselves but for the shear amusement of killing. But it was their desire
for human flesh brought them to the edge of the thicket, snatching the
innocent that would wander too close to their wooded domain. 

 She wanted to annihilate the animals and through the years felt as though
she had lost her humanity in the pursuit. Her pursuit to kill the
bloodthirsty beasts had consumed her thoughts, and dictated her actions
for too long. Like the monsters, she was now a denizen of the forest and
the villagers soon associated her presence with that of the animals. In
the past, the villagers had stalked her mercilessly, possessing only the
intention of killing her, not of understanding her. 

 The villagers' desire to hunt her down and murder her was just as
unfounded as her desire to execute the unconscious man lying at her feet.
She couldn't bring herself to kill him without knowing why he was hunting
her. 

 The scratches to his face were already beginning to swell from the poison
of the widow's thorn. She knew the situation was grave and probably
hopeless. The widow's thorn had claimed far too many that ventured into
these woodlands and most were not as severely injured as this man. She
didn't know if she could save him, but the quiescent, handsome face
beckoned her to help. 

 Her years of captivity in the thicket had led her to become resistant to
the effects of the widow's thorn. She had been stabbed so many times by
the prolific spikes that she no longer suffered from their devastating
effects. She surmised that Artemis protected her from the poison, only so
that she may serve out her complete sentence as a prisoner of the forest. 

 The long mournful cry of the blood thirsty creature suggested it would
not be kept from its prize for long. If she was going to help the injured
man she knew would need to do it now. 

 The woman threw down the bow and quiver and began to tenderly free Iolaus
from the thorns that bound him. "Well, I guess if I'm going to help you, I
should properly introduce myself," she thought to herself, "I'm Nicaea." 

 After loosening the hunter from the thorns so he could safely be moved
away, Nicaea painstakingly removed her only good arrow from the dead
beast's chest. She was being careful not to damage it, since her crude
arrows did little to stop the bloodthirsty beasts before. 

 She pulled at her cape which was partially buried under the dead animal
and carefully wrapped Iolaus' bleeding body in the cloak. The vines from
his prison were used to securely tie her burden. 

 Pulling on the hood of the cape, Nicaea cautiously drug the limp body
toward her cabin deep within the woods. 

 *********** . Nicaea stoked the fire once more before checking on the
injured man. The cabin remained chilly after the brisk autumn night. The
sun peeked out from low morning clouds filtering the cabin with gentle
lighting. The blonde hunter had been unconscious for well over two days. 

 She had long since cleansed his wounds and applied a salve of herbs and
blood that was designed to draw out the poison. All that was left to do
was wait. During the long nights, Nicaea had forced herself to stay awake
and keep a vigil. She hoped by now that his condition would show some
signs of improvement. 

 The blonde hunter had a fitful rest; tossing and turning with night
terrors she could only imagine. The pain that one endured from a small
dose of the widow's thorn was torture enough, but in large doses, the
poison was known to have hallucinogenic and terrifying effects. 

 Combative when Iolaus was hallucinating; he clawed at his bandages and
screamed in terror or pain. She tried in vain to hold him down during
these restive periods, but to little avail. The hunter was too strong and
threw her off as if nothing more than a rag doll. Nicaea finally had to
tie his hands and legs to the framework of the bed to keep him from
harming himself. 

 Tensed in spasms of pain, Iolaus' back arched convulsively. The raw
emotions of his torture were unbearable as the pain and nightmares
consumed him. "No. . .Hercules. . .Hellespont," he muttered, trying to
escape the binds. He would again scream in frustration when the binds
would not yield. 

 His shrill screams hurt her ears and Nicaea wanted desperately to escape
the sound. After days of his suffering, she needed to escape the terrible
shrieks and wails coming from her patient. Even with her own need for
escape, Nicaea was still fearful about leaving him alone for even a
moment. 

 Finally, no longer able to endure the suffering in his screams, Nicaea
had to leave and escape the turmoil. Slamming the door to the small cabin,
she ran until she could no longer breathe from the exertion. She collapsed
to the ground, folded her legs against her chest, covered her ears and
rocked until she could finally think once more. Her moment of withdrawal
realized, Nicaea would go back inside and tend to her patient.

 Once inside, Nicaea watched Iolaus in quiet solitude. As quickly as the
night terrors had come on, they dissipated and his screams had stopped.
The hunter slept peacefully. 

 His fight with the binds caused abrasive burns on his wrists and ankles.
She loosened them, gently rubbing his callused hands and strong wrists
with the same red ointment she used to treat his scratches. 

 The scratches would heal quickly. It was the injuries to his eyes that
concerned her. She had washed them with a solution of cineraria and
nettleleaf, but the redness and swelling had not gone down. His normally
handsome face was still bloated from the poison. 

 Nicaea unwrapped the bandages from his eyes and replaced them with new
ones. She wrung out the linen strips soaked in the cineraria and
nettleleaf and placed them back on his eyes. She then wound his head with
a strip of dry linen cloth, covering his eyes and holding the steeped
bandages in place. 

 She watched as he slept, absently playing with a lock of his golden hair.
He became restive again, muttering names and places in his fevered sleep.
"Herc. . .Anya. . ."

 She gently stroked the skin along the side of his face, hoping to comfort
him. In his dazed state, she resolved that the touch was really more to
comfort herself. The warmth of his skin made her remember how truly alone
she had been and the sound of his breathing satisfied an empty place in
her soul. She had been without company since her exile and rarely ventured
out of her cabin except to gain supplies. 

 Nicaea reached over to the large bucket she kept full of water. It was
almost empty. She had used most of the liquid to prepare the salve. The
bandages needed to be replaced every four hours and she would soon need
more of the precious liquid.

 Iolaus continued to call out in his sleep. 

 "Shhhhhhhhhh," she said trying to reassure him. He continued to mutter
the same word repeatedly. She had no idea what a herc was but it must have
been very important to him. She stroked his fevered brow before rising
from the edge of the bed. 

 Her patient was still in a state of agitation but she couldn't put it off
any longer. She had to get more water. She began to replace the binds in
an effort to keep him safe while she was gone. 

 "No. . .No. . ." he pleaded as she attempted to shackle him down. The
remorse of his plea, although most likely not directed at her, made her
want to cry. His wrists were already swollen and chaffed and she found she
could not put him through any more torment. She let the bindings fall to
the ground and hoped some benevolent god would protect him while she was
gone. 

 Nicaea grabbed the bucket from the side of the bed and walked out of the
cabin. She began her trek toward the small pond. 

 The pond was shallow, and several meters wide. The trees that formed an
impenetrable canopy and protected the thicket were scattered here.
Diffused sunlight dappled through the trees and onto the clear body of
water. 

 She knelt down and caught a reflection of herself in the water. She could
no longer imagine the left side of her face as it once was: human. 

 She regarded the image that stared at her from the water below. Her eye
had been permanently closed from the layers of scaly ridges. She turned
slightly and saw only the slight protrudence of her ear lobe remained. The
corner of her mouth was turned under, effectively paralyzed from the
scurfy ridges. 

 She brought up her hands and touched the left side of her face. She felt
the jagged edges of her scarred skin. Scaly ridges extended from her
hairline, down the side of her face to her chin and neck. The scaly
surface on her left side had the gray green pallor and scurfy texture of a
sea serpent. 

 Her skull lacked any real quality of hair. In it's absence there were
masses of long light brown strands of barbels scattered sparsely over her
scalp. She compared her scalp to that of a balding porcupine; the barbels
were like the soft quills on the back of the small mammal. 

 Her left fingers and toes were webbed and covered with more scaly
protrusions. Her nails were black and necrotic. The greenish pallor
extended throughout her left side, from her scalp to her toes. She was at
least able to conceal her disfigured body with her clothing, but her face,
hands, and feet were unprotected from scrutiny. 

 She then touched the right side of her face and closed her right eye as
if to remember. This side of her face was just as comely as it had been
thirteen years ago when she had been exiled to the thicket. 

 Her sage green dress had faded with time and was tattered and warn.
Nicaea absently wiped her hands across the front of the dress as if able
to brush away the effects of time. 

 This was her punishment for her pride and arrogance. Every time she
looked into the stream, she would be forever reminded of the woman she
was, and the monster she had become. 

 She tried to speak to the grim reflection that stared back at her, but
her voice was all but lost with the years of solitude. Her words were mere
croaks as she could not find her voice. 

 She wondered how she would be able to communicate with the injured hunter
waiting in the cabin. 

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

 Her wistful folly was suddenly abandoned when she realized he was alone
and still gravely ill. She ran back to her home, water from the bucket
sloshing to the ground. 

 Iolaus woke from his fevered sleep. His mind was disoriented and muddled.
He remained in bed listening to the sounds around him, trying to get his
bearings. He could hear the crackling of the fire next to him and the
muted sounds of the woodlands in the background. The sounds that emanated
from the forest made him believe it was still early in the morning. He lay
in the bed, identifying the call from three separate birds, the croaking
of a large bull frog and the chirp of a cricket. He found it curious that
no voices escaped the boundary of the room. 

 He could feel the weight of the bandages on his face and wound around his
eyes. Iolaus touched them briefly and then moved his hand toward the linen
sheet of the bed. Someone must have brought him to a healing temple, he
thought. 

 "Herc?" his voice cracked, but he was greeted by silence. Iolaus tried to
rise from the bed, but was stopped by his muscles angrily protesting the
move. He became dizzy from the effort and fell back into the softly
stuffed pallet. He once again touched the bandages wrapped around his
eyes. 

 He forced himself to rise ignoring the aching in his muscles. He set on
the edge of the pallet and lifted his left hand to gently touch the
scratches on his chest. They still burned with fulsome intensity. His
right wrist was stiff and felt as if it was swollen, but it didn't seem
broken. 

 Curiosity about his injuries convinced him to unwind the bandage from his
eyes. Once the bandage was removed, he would be able to assess the injury
to his wrists and chest as well as his other injuries. 

 He thought back to the moments before he lost consciousness. 

 He remembered the beast jumping on his back and him tumbling into the
patch of widow's thorns. The pain of the spikes as they jabbed at his skin
was still reminding him with the unceasing pain in his chest. 

 The scratches were painful, but were after all only scratches. Certainly
they could no longer be seeping. A little poultice to the wounds and they
should be protected from infection. 

 Iolaus' hand went back up to his eyes. The healer had taken special care
to wrap the bandage and he wondered what kind of injury could have
befallen him that would require such an overburdened wrapping. Iolaus
began to unwind the long linen strip, believing that the bandage would
never end. 

 Once removed, he had to contend with wads of linen placed directly on his
eyes. With the linen strip removed, Iolaus carefully pried the linen from
his eyes. They smelled of an antiseptic he could not identify and didn't
particularly favor. 

 The pain from removing the pad was evidenced by the tears that fell
through his swollen lids. He took note that his face was still quite
swollen from his ordeal in the forest. He tried blinking a couple of
times, but his vision remained dark. His left eye was swollen shut. The
upper and lower lids were cemented together with pus. With some effort, he
was able to blink his right eye, but it seemed to be oblivious to the
intake of light. 

 "I'm blind," he said to himself and was surprised by the calmness in his
voice as he spoke. Then the panic began to set in and he began thinking of
the consequences of his blindness. 

 His mind started reeling with questions, and they went through his brain
in record sequence. "What if it's permanent? What if I'll never see again?
How can I hunt? How can I fight? I couldn't be Herc's partner anymore."
Now, Iolaus' panic was full blown. 

 He was genuinely more upset by no longer being able to fight by Hercules'
side, than by being struck blind. It was easy for Iolaus to imagine what
it would be like not to see; the mechanics of blindness were easy to
rationalize. He had more difficulty imaging himself not being able to
watch is best friend's back. 

 Disjointed images of Hercules, and their fights together floated in his
mind. They had always been there for each other. They fought the Hydra
together. They battled Echidna. They battled the sand sharks and any of a
multitude of Hera's minions. How would he be able to fight with his best
friend and watch his back if he were blind? 

 He wondered how his friendship with Hercules would be different if he
remained blind. Iolaus thought Hercules was always more protective toward
him that he should be. The tall demigod would be even more protective if
he was blind. He didn't want that. 

 Thoughts flooding his mind, Iolaus realized he was not going to get any
rest so he decided to get out of bed. 

 He found the closest wall and began walking around the perimeter of the
room, trying to remember landmarks as he slowly and carefully bumped into
them. The bed was up against the left wall. He began there and started
feeling his way around the room. The fireplace was against the back wall.
He found a bow and quiver resting up against the hearth. 

 "A healing temple would have no use for a bow and arrow," he thought
quizzically. 

 He began groping his way up the bow. At the notch in the top, where the
string attached to the bow, he felt several small feathers dangling from
the apparatus. 

 "The stranger in the forest?" he mumbled to himself, "Iolaus, I thought
you were a goner for sure." 

 He continued to survey the cabin. Off to the right, not quite in the
center was a small table with one chair. He followed the lines of the flat
surface with his hands. As he did, he tipped over a small wicker basket
sitting on the edge. The contents of the basket came tumbling out. He
tried to right the container and his hand fell on some un-leaven bread.
His stomach growled in response to the sudden idea of food. He tore a
piece off the loaf and stuffed it in his mouth. He grabbed the rest of the
flat bread and continued to follow the contours of the table until he came
to the right wall. 

 On the right wall was a long console table set against the wall. The only
window in the cabin was above it. 

 The cabin was utilitarian and very small. There were no hangings on the
wall, that he could feel, and only a few rudimentary baskets and cooking
utensils. He was able to walk from one side to the other in a little over
seven strides. 

 Once he got the lay of the cabin, he began a careful pace between the bed
and the table. Pacing seemed to take his mind off his handicap much better
than sleep would have. 

 Iolaus had continued to pace the cabin when he thought he heard a whimper
coming from the outside. He stopped his pacing and strained his ears to
hear the sound again. 

 "Yes, there it is," he thought. The tiny whimpering seemed to be getting
closer to the cabin. Iolaus wondered how he could hear such a faint sound
so clearly. The source of the whimpering seemed so far away. 

 He had heard stories about the blind with the extraordinary sense of
hearing and he knew some were myth. But he also remembered a soldier who
had lost his sight in battle. His loss was replaced by a keen sense of
hearing. He had saved the troops from many night time raids, because he
was able to give advance notice of the enemy's advance. 

 The soldiers gift was provided by the gods, who had a stake in the
outcome of the war and it was thrust upon the soldier months after his
blindness. However the story still didn't explain why Iolaus could hear so
clearly and so soon after his injury. 

 He touched the scratches on his chest again wondering if he had imagined
them earlier. They were still there. He knew the fall into the brambles
had to be a recent event. 

 A low menacing growl soon escaped from outside the confines of the cabin.
It easily drowned out the pitiful cries he had heard earlier. Iolaus had
no problem recognizing the growl. It came from the same beast he had
encountered earlier. 

 Although louder than the whimpering cries, Iolaus could sense it was not
much closer than the source of the whimpering. He could also tell it was
coming from an opposite direction. 

 The whimpering was quickly building into a wail. "Mama. Mama," a child
cried from the outside. 

 "Breccia," Iolaus breathed, hoping and fearing it was the child he had
come to rescue. 

 He fumbled for the door and opened it to the woods beyond. The sound of
the crying seemed to be getting closer. As the crisp morning air hit the
hunters face, Iolaus had to quickly decide on the best way he could
approach the crying child. 

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

 Knowing that her gravely ill hunter was alone in the cabin, Nicaea rushed
back to her waiting patient ashamed of herself for getting so distracted
at the pond. The bucket she was carrying was a heavy burden, so she put it
down briefly and rested. She bent forward, grasping her knees, trying to
catch her breath. Her chest heaved and burned from the task of taking in
the cold morning air. When her asthmatic breathing ceased, she could hear
the faint cries of a child. 

 Looking toward the cabin, her heart almost jumped into her throat. A
young child of about three years of age stood only feet from the cabin.
Stalking her was one of the bloodthirsty beasts that she had spent half a
lifetime exterminating. Nicaea abandoned the water and ran toward the
small child. 

 As she got closer to the whimpering child, she slowed her approach. The
child was justifiably frightened. The growl of the animal was low and
menacing. Focusing only on the animal in front of her, the little girl was
slowly backing up, toward the cabin wall. The beast was matching her
movement step by step. This time, the animal did not need to use his speed
to bring down its prey. If the toddler continued her backward trek, there
would be no way for the girl to escape. The animal would effectively have
her trapped. 

 Nicaea was momentarily stunned when she saw her cabin door open and her
patient step out. The bandage covering his eyes was off but Iolaus' steps
were unsure and tentative. Nicaea's heart sank. His uneasy stance told the
story. The hunter's eye sight must have been compromised from his
injuries. 

 "Iolaus," Nicaea tried to speak. With years of disuse, her voice was
raspy and meager and barely made it out of her throat. 

 She pushed the air through her vocal cords with as much force as she
could. "Olus," she croaked, this time her voice was a little more audible.
The blond hunter looked toward the sound of the almost inhuman utterance. 

 "Grrrrl." Nicaea beckoned. The voice echoed in her throat before it was
released. Once released, the sound could have easily been mistaken for a
growl; a call that the beasts would make to warn others in their pride of
danger. 

 Iolaus quickly conceded to his infirmary and dubiously shrugged his
shoulders. He knew the child was near from her crying but blind, he
couldn't locate her well enough to rescue her. 

 "Wall." Nicaea said, as if she could almost read his thoughts. Iolaus
responded as if he could almost see. He looked to his left toward the
girl. 

 "What about the animal?" he called out. 

 "Grrrrl," her raspy voice continued. With nothing more than a guttural
sound, Iolaus knew that his focus at the moment needed to be the small
child and not the beast. 

 Iolaus nodded in response. 

 There was a definite authority in the guttural utterances, and Iolaus
felt obligated to obey the directions given to him. He slowly followed the
outline of the cabin for a few steps. Even blind he could sense the animal
continuing to make its stealthy approach. 

 Nicaea reached for her bow and arrow and cursed silently when she found
it was missing. She never left the cabin without it. Her temper at her
forgetfulness flared even more as she watched the blind man who was
dependent on her and the child who was in imminent peril. 

 Looking around her, Nicaea picked up a large rock from the ground and
hurled it at the creature. The first one missed its mark, but the throw
managed to divert the beast's attention off its prey, at least
momentarily. Taking advantage of the distraction Nicaea picked up another
stone and threw it. This time, it hit the beast squarely on its back
haunches. With a yelp, it turned its attention toward Nicaea. 

 "Now!" Nicaea croaked again. Her voice was getting stronger with use. 

 Iolaus quickly counted out two paces until he ran into the little girl.
With little regard for the child's immediate well-being, he grabbed
Breccia with great force, whisking her up and into his arms. He tried to
keep his feet firmly planted on the ground so that he would not loose his
bearings. Using his left hand to guide him back to the door, he quickly
ran inside. 

 "You stay here," he said pointing in the general direction of the child.
She scurried into a corner and continued to sob. 

 Iolaus then grabbed the bow and arrow laying next to the hearth and ran
back toward the door. 

 Outside, the animal looked back toward its intended prey. The little girl
was gone. Frustrated at being denied its easy catch, the creature turned
towards Nicaea. It came toward her with slow and calculating intent. As
the creature approached, she could see it was the one that she had aimed
her bow at only days before. The beast's eyes were blood red and spoke of
evil and revenge. 

 She sidestepped the approaching beast and ran. Normally, her long, thin
legs would carry her far and fast, but because the beast was between her
and the cabin she had to take a circuitous route to reach her home. The
beast knew the forest floor as well as Nicaea and she was not as fast as
the pursuing animal. It was quickly gaining ground. She pumped her legs
faster trying to make it to the door of the cabin before the animal could
win the race. 

 The beast was closing in, and quickly came within striking distance. She
was getting yards closer to the cabin when the creature made its final
move. Using its thick, short back legs, the animal propelled itself up and
onto Nicaea's back. Its powerful leap brought Nicaea to the rough ground
with a loud thud. Her breath was knocked out of her.

 In an attempt to crush her throat with its powerful jaws, the beast tried
to gain access to Nicaea's neck. The animal quickly hopped off her back
and used the forest floor as leverage for its final assault. Its brief
hesitation to get a better grip allowed Nicaea to roll over on her back.
She used her unwieldy, long arms and legs to hit and jab at the monster.
Then she saw the wound in its chest and what was left of her arrow
protruding from its side. 

 Using the palm of her hand, she pushed the stub of the arrow further into
the seeping wound. The animal yelped and backed up. 

 Nicaea rolled off her back and scrambled up. She ran toward the cabin,
yet the beast was not going to be denied his prize. Both moving slower, it
still continued to pursue her and still had the advantage. 

 The predator quickly caught up with its prey. The large front paws easily
forced Nicaea to the ground again. In an effort to promptly subdue the
prey that had managed to get away once, the creature latched onto her
torso. A garbled scream escaped Nicaea's lips as the creature's massive
canines bit into the flesh along her back and side. 

 As Iolaus opened the door, he was greeted by a scream. The beast stopped
and looked toward the man in the cabin, but his interest was in the prey
at his feet. He let out a low warning growl, and it was just as menacing
as the first time Iolaus had heard it. 

 Nicaea screamed again as the beast's jaws locked into her flesh once
more, ripping the flesh as he tried to shake his prey. 

 "Shoot," Nicaea's tormented voice pleaded when she saw Iolaus exit the
cabin with the bow and arrow. She had hoped her entreaty would not go
unheard. Both had witnessed the skill in which the beast quickly brought
down its prey. Both knew there would be no hope for Nicaea if Iolaus did
not attempt to bring down the beast. Nicaea knew the beast's next attack
would certainly be to break her neck. 

 Iolaus smiled to himself. He was pleased that the beast vocalized its
location. Without the low rumbling coming from its throat, the hunter
would have never been able to ascertain its location. 

 Iolaus aimed the bow toward the beast and made a silent prayer to
Artemis. He let go of the taut string. The arrow flew with accurate
precision and found its target. The animal fell where he stood. 

 Nicaea breathed a sigh of relief as she pushed the beast off of her. She
tried to pick herself up from the ground. The effort to get up produced a
strangled groan. The injury to her side was painful and bleeding and the
guttural moaning was almost as inhuman as the beast's. For a split second,
Iolaus feared he had killed the prey and not the predator. 

 "Thank the gods," she breathed as she just laid where she fell. 

 Iolaus scrambled toward her, almost falling himself a couple of times
before he found her. He reached down to help her up

 "No. Don't touch me," she pleaded as she held out a hand to stop him. 

 "You're hurt. Let me help you," he requested. 

 "No!...you can't touch me." 

 "Why? Are you a Hind or something?" Iolaus asked, He had experienced the
curiosity of the Hind. One touch while they were in human form would
transform them into the golden deer. He was not sure what other reason
there would be for her sudden anxiety to an offer of help. 

 "Is that why she doesn't want me to touch her?" he wondered. 

 "I'm fine... please...help the child," she said as she strained to get
up. "See? Fine," she chastised.

 "Well, actually no I can't see you`re fine," Iolaus answered back, but
Iolaus didn't need to see. He could hear the muffled groaning and obvious
discomfort in her voice, but decided to let it drop for now. It was clear
she would refuse his help if he offered again. 

 Nicaea chided herself for her poor choice of words, just as she chided
herself for the foolish time she spent at the pool.

 Nicaea suddenly remembered the precious liquid she had collected from the
pond. Trying to take a breath was excruciatingly difficult as the pain
racked her side. "Water," Nicaea gasped in pain. 

 "Oh, sure. I'll get some," Iolaus said as he turned and then pointed
himself in what he hoped was the right direction to the cabin. 

 Nicaea smiled in spite of the pain. "No, I'll get it. You go back in,"
she rasped. Then she put her two hands on his shoulder and twisted them
slightly to direct him on to the right path.

 Nicaea waited until the hunter was safely in the cabin before she
retrieved the water and then turned back toward the spot where she had
left the bucket. Her eyes skirted past the beast. She shuttered at the
animal that had been shot dead right on top of her. 

 Iolaus had to be an expert marksman to have hit the animal without the
use of his sight. He had aimed and killed the monster while it was
practically on top of her. As an expert marksman herself, she had seen few
as good with the long bow. 

 She held her side just above the injury as she slowly walked to the place
where she had dropped the water pail. The warm, sticky blood from the now
seeping wound was beginning to dry, cementing her garment to her skin and
pulling at the already abused tissue.

 The bite would certainly cause an infection if she didn't clean it. She
had seen infections from the beast's venomous fangs happen overnight. 

 Lifting her dress, Nicaea tried to examine her wound. It was too far on
her side and back for her to really determine the damage, much less
effectively wash it. Ideally, a dip in the pond would be the only way to
ensure the wound received a gentle cleansing, but Nicaea had no time to
traverse to the pond. She had to get back to Iolaus and the young child.

 Deciding a cursory wash was better than none at all, Nicaea tore off a
piece of her garment and dipped it into the bucket of water. She gently
washed as much of the wound as she could reach, sucking in a large gulp of
air between her teeth as her hand gently went over the raw flesh.

 Heading back toward the cabin, Nicaea took a detour to a set of snares
she had set up earlier in the woods.

 Normally, she would supplement her unleaven bread with fruits and berries
gathered from the forest. Occasionally, she would add some meat. Now, with
two additional mouths to feed, she would certainly need the game she
trapped.

 Her first trap was empty. The game she had snared had been ripped from
the taut ropes, possibly by the injured beast Iolaus had just killed. Her
second snare had caught a rabbit. Frightened, it tried valiantly to get
away before regretfully Nicaea wrung it's neck. Suddenly, she was so tired
of killing. Nicaea tied the back feet of the rabbit together and then
slung it over her shoulder for her slow trip back.

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

 Iolaus could hear the gentle sobbing of the frightened child in the
corner. Having already learned the lay of the room, Iolaus recklessly
rushed to her in an effort to comfort the frightened child.

 His effort to console her was clearly a mistake. As he got nearer, her
whimpering became louder and more strident.

 Iolaus couldn't understand why the young girl continued to be so
frightened. She was safe and the beast was dead.

 "Go away, monster," Breccia said as she folded up into herself and tried
to melt into the corner.

 Iolaus realized that the child's fright was caused by himself and not the
fear of the animal outside. His disfigured and swollen face must have made
him look like a monster to the child. If he had any chance of gaining the
young girl's trust, he had to begin on her level. Iolaus stopped and then
sat down on the floor.

 "Breccia? It is Breccia, isn't it?" Iolaus asked, wanting to confirm that
another child was not lost in the thicket.

 The young girl's sobbing diminished. "Uh huh," she answered through a
trembling mouth.

 "Good. Good," he smiled although the swelling in his face made the
friendly gesture difficult. "I met your mommy and she's very worried about
you. She sent me to find you."

 "Mommy," Breccia cried and then her wailing began anew.

 "Oh, now you've done it, Iolaus," the hunter said out loud. "Stupid,
stupid, stupid. You had to mention her mother."

 Nicaea opened the door to Iolaus' plaintive admonition and the child's
rampant wailing. As she made it all the way through the thresh hold, she
had grabbed the blood spattered cape that hung next to the door. Nicaea
was always cognizant of how she appeared to the outside world. They were
quick to use the word monster, or beast, or abomination to describe her
likeness. Villages pursued her tirelessly not because she was malevolent,
but only because she looked beastly. 

 The cape, a stolen gift from a victim of the widow's thorn was like a
protective shell to Nicaea. Fearful of meeting hunters in the thicket, she
wore the cape, like a shield, to hide her features. Unfortunately, she
could not grab the cloak before Breccia saw her face.

 "Monster," Breccia cried again. Her lip trembled in fear as she pointed
to Nicaea. Still cramped in her corner, the small child found a way to
retreat further into the recess.

 Iolaus, thinking the child once again was describing him turned to Nicaea
and asked, "Do I look that bad?"

 "I'm sure it's not you," she answered plainly. "She's probably hungry.
Did you offer her some food?" Nicaea asked as she sat the rabbit on the
floor. She stifled a low moan.

 Nicaea wanted to be an amenable host, but she resented the intrusion into
her only safe haven by both Iolaus and the girl. Granted, she took Iolaus
in when he was unconscious and not expected to live, and it was acceptable
when he was blind, but now she had to contend with a young girl very much
able to see every scale and every barbel on her cursed frame. 

 Nicaea walked to the table and pulled off another piece of bread. Walking
over to Iolaus, she put it in his hand. 

 "Offer her some food," Nicaea commanded. 

 Iolaus took the bread and hunched down proceeding carefully toward the
young girl. His voice was quiet and reassuring.

 "I know my face must look pretty horrible to you, but it was caused by an
accident. I'm not a monster. In fact, I kill monsters for a living. Yep,
Monsters R Us...well, me and Hercules." 

 "You know Hercules?' Nicaea interrupted.

 "He's my best friend and partner," Iolaus said and then a look of regret
clouded his features. "Or should I say, we were partners?"

 "What do you mean `were'?"

 "Like you haven't noticed. I'm blind. How can I be his partner, watch his
back, and fight by his side when I`m blind?"

 Nicaea was quiet for a moment. A wry smile crossed her face, but even if
Iolaus could have seen it, it was veiled by her protective cloak. "Lives
don't always turn out how you expected," Nicaea answered trying to hide
her bitterness.

 Iolaus turned back toward Breccia. He understood all too well that life
was not always easy. He often had to learn that lesson the hard way, but
that seemed to change when he met Hercules. He didn`t want the dynamics of
their relationship to change because he was blind, but Iolaus knew that it
would.

 "It's okay," Iolaus said persuading the young girl to take the food
offered to her.

 The little girl was wary of Iolaus but his voice was gentle and he didn't
seem all that mean so Breccia quickly grabbed the piece of bread from his
hand and stuffed it into her mouth.

 Iolaus smiled. It was a lopsided smile considering the swelling in his
face, but Breccia could see it was a smile nonetheless.

 "Are you hungry?" Nicaea asked Iolaus, her voice still hoarse from years
of nonuse.

 "Does the Hydra have two heads?" Iolaus answered.

 "Not anymore I believe," Nicaea answered after hearing the many stories
told of how Hercules had slain the monster. "I have rabbit, I hope that's
okay?"

 "Are you kidding? I love rabbit."

 Nicaea silently went about preparing the meal. The young girl that had
trapped herself in a corner was still there, but had quieted and was
watching Iolaus intently.

 The hunter sat on the bed and began covering his left eye with his left
hand and then his right eye with his right hand. He had hoped he would be
able to gage some changes to his sight.

 Nicaea watched his odd gyrations. It reminded her of some warped game of
peek-a-boo.

 "What are you doing?" she finally asked Iolaus.

 "Just checking my eyesight."

 "Give it time. You should be wearing your bandages," she said pointing a
knife idly in his direction.

 Iolaus didn't want to wear the heavy wrap across his eyes. It was
uncomfortable and it stunk. Trying to be patient, which was not an easy
task for Iolaus, he put both hands down in his lap.

 Uncomfortable in the silence, Iolaus finally asked, "What's your name
again?" not sure if she had told him a first time. 

 "Nicaea," she answered.

 "Nicaea," Iolaus said, "that's nice." 

 Iolaus grinned at his sudden play on words and expected Nicaea to laugh.
Everyone laughed at his puns. When no laughter was forthcoming, the hunter
decided explaining the joke was in order. "Get it, Nicaea, nice?"

 Nicaea rolled her eyes in difference. "Dinner," She announced not giving
Iolaus the satisfaction of a rebuttal. With pain and effort, she moved the
table closer to Iolaus' position on the bed. She then placed a plate in
front of him.

 "Eat," she requested as she prepared a smaller plate for the child. She
placed Breccia's plate next to Iolaus, then she busied herself with other
chores.

 When it was clear that Nicaea wasn't going to join him, Iolaus asked,
"Aren't you going to eat?"

 Even if Nicaea had the appetite to eat, she would have chosen to do it
alone. Besides, not being set up for company, Iolaus was currently eating
off the only plate Nicaea owned. But the truth was, chills from the
beast's bite were already coursing through her body.

 "Maybe later," Nicaea answered as she pulled her chair over to the fire
to warm herself from the fever induced chills.

 After eating alone for several minutes, Iolaus moved toward the corner
and tried to cajole Breccia to the table. She was not ready to come out of
her corner, so Iolaus dropped morsels of food for her to pick up.

 Breccia waited until Iolaus' hand had moved back to the table before she
grabbed at the tidbits of food. "Monsters eat children, they didn't feed
them", Breccia thought to herself. She began to doubt if Iolaus was truly
a monster after all.

 After several bites, Breccia decided she was hungry. Iolaus wasn't
feeding her as fast as she would have liked. Hunger outweighing her fear,
Breccia got up from her corner and walked to the table. Stealthfully
sneaking up next to Iolaus, Breccia stood next to the table and grabbed
two fists full of food from her plate. She watched the gentle smile return
to Iolaus' face as she stuffed the food into her mouth.

 Breccia then drained her cup and brought it up for Iolaus to see. "More,"
she pronounced as crumbs of food trickled down her chin.

 "Breccia's got a healthy appetite. That's a good start," Iolaus said as
he sopped up the last of the juice from the rabbit with a piece of bread.

 Nicaea looked over and saw his empty plate. "Guess Breccia's not the only
one. I'll get you some more," she said as she tried to get up. A painful
groan escaped her lips as she forced herself from the chair.

 Iolaus, aware of her injury entreatied her to stop. "No, I'll get it." he
answered her back. Besides, if the blindness was going to be permanent, he
was going to have to learn to adapt to it. The sooner, the better he
surmised.

 Nicaea nodded and then sank back into her chair. A languid sigh told
Iolaus she continued to hurt from the beast's attack, but had done as he
had asked.

 With the table moved forward, Iolaus quickly lost his bearings. Hesitant
in his footsteps, the hunter guided himself around the perimeter of the
room to the sideboard where Nicaea had prepared the meal. He quietly
counted his steps.

 Iolaus filled his plate with a variety of foods and then counted the
steps back to the bed. Both Iolaus and Breccia ate in silence, although
Breccia constantly scrutinized the hunter with the warped face. After
watching him animatedly pick off the meat from a bone with his teeth,
Breccia decided she really wasn't afraid of Iolaus anymore.

 Finally, the girls attention focused on the monster in the chair instead.
The monster had tried to hide her ugliness but Breccia saw the scaled skin
of her disfigured face. Whereas Iolaus' face may have been distorted, it
appeared human, Nicaea's face with its scurfy texture and quill-like hair
most certainly was not.

 "Breccia?" Iolaus asked as the girl suddenly quit eating and became
silent in her staring. 

 "Monster's ugly," Breccia answered pointing a finger toward Nicaea.

 "I told you, I'm not a monster. I kill monsters," Iolaus responded a bit
perturbed.

 Nicaea tucked her hands and feet underneath her cloak. She hid her face
carefully so that only the human half of her face was exposed.. She had
seen who Breccia was pointing at and could not refute the child's image of
her. She was a monster.

 Breccia looked at Iolaus and became suddenly confused. If Iolaus killed
monsters, then why hadn't he killed Nicaea. She decided to ask him.

 "Then why didn't you kill monster?"

 This time, Iolaus thought she was referring to the beast outside. "I did
kill the monster, Breccia. He won't harm you anymore."

 Now Breccia was really confused. The monster she was talking about sat in
a chair just feet away. Yet, maybe, what the man said was true. The
monster had never tried to hurt her, in fact, the monster didn't even try
to get near to her.

 "You killed the monster?" Breccia asked.

 "That's right," Iolaus answered.

 Breccia smiled in understanding. "Maybe monsters were something that
lived inside of us." she thought.

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

 Hercules came into the small village in the middle of the afternoon.
Surveying the buildings, his eyes lit upon the tavern. He had no doubt the
patrons of the tavern would have seen Iolaus, if in fact, he wasn't there
at the moment.

 The tavern door opened to the grunts and groans of the patrons. Hercules
walked in to the dimly lit tavern. He didn't see Iolaus in the small room,
so he approached the barkeep.

 "Have you seen my friend? He's about this tall, blond, likes to fish?"
The demigod asked as he held his hand to about shoulder height to
demonstrate his friend's stature.

 The bartender thought it over. "You mean today?" he asked.

 "Well, maybe not today, but a few days ago? Yesterday perhaps?"

 A drunk from a nearby table chimed in, "Well, there was that guy that
came in a few days ago. Thought he was Hercules."

 Hercules turned to him. "He thought he was Hercules or said he was
Hercules?" the demigod asked. He had experienced both kinds of fraud.

 "Who knows? He went traipsing into the woods to save Breccia from the
beast."

 "Dang stupid and not very Herculean if you ask me," another drunk chimed
in.

 "Iolaus," Hercules nodded, knowing they were speaking of his friend.

 "Have you seen him since?" Hercules inquired.

 "Nope," the drunk responded taking a gulp from his drink.

 The statement concerned Hercules. It had been two days and no one had
seen Iolaus. Granted this wasn't the friendliest bunch of folk, but his
gregarious partner would surely have been noticed if he had made it back
to the village.

 "Nobody's seen him?" Hercules asked again.

 "Maybe you should ask Scorria," one man intoned lasciviously.

 "Or," another man laughed conspiratorially, "Maybe he was eaten by the
beast," 

 "Nah. Probably chickened out," the first man answered.

 Trying desperately to get some useful information from the drunks, the
demigod asked, "Who's Scorria?" 

 "The little brat's mother," the first one answered again, "you know, the
one he went to rescue."

 "Okay. So where does Scorria live?" Hercules asked deciding it would be a
place to start the search for his friend. He was greeted by a shrug from
both tavern patrons.

 "Why does that not surprise me," Hercules thought and quickly left the
confines of the tavern to begin his search for Iolaus. He surveyed the
thick woods to his right. His instincts told him Iolaus was in trouble. A
pink shimmering light caused Hercules to look in the opposite direction.
Aphrodite appeared beside him.

 "Hercules, you can't," Aphrodite said.

 "I can't what?" Hercules asked.

 "Rescue Sweetcheeks," Aphrodite answered, "at least not now."

 "I don't have time for this," Hercules answered. Aphrodite was being coy,
which probably meant she wanted a favor from the demigod and right then,
Hercules' only concern was with his missing partner. He proceeded toward
the thicket trying to find a safe place to enter. Aphrodite followed
behind him.

 "I'm serious, Hercules," Aphrodite said as she grabbed the forearm of her
muscular brother.

 "Hello, Aphrodite? No one has seen Iolaus in two days. Unless you know
something you're not telling me."

 "Well..." the Goddess of Love declared as she tapped her fingernails
nervously on her teeth. She was reluctant to tell him because she knew his
reaction.

 "He's alright isn't he?" Hercules questioned.

 "Well..." Aphrodite declared reluctantly.

 "What's happened to him?"

 "Cousin Asclepius is hopeful the vision in the one eye will return in a
day or two. He`s not sure about the other eye," Aphrodite answered as she
tried to keep up with the demigod`s long stride.

 "He's blind?" Hercules turned and asked incredulously. "How?" 

 "Widow's thorn," Aphrodite answered solemnly.

 "Widow's thorn? But those are..."

 "The mortals' version of the Hind`s blood, I know." Aphrodite nodded. She
too, was worried about the blond hunter, but Aphrodite had other business
that she needed to take care of, and right now Hercules was putting a
wrinkle in her plans. She decided to steer the conversation to what she
thought was a more pressing matter. Iolaus' eyesight aside, his life was
no longer in danger and there was only so much Hercules could do for him
now. "Good thing that Nicaea happened along when she did."

 "Nicaea?" Hercules queried as he looked for the entrance Iolaus had used
to gain access to the woods. "Nicaea. I know that name," he said as he
found the opening to the thicket . He noticed the tangle of widow's thorn
and carefully pulled himself through. He was surprised when Aphrodite
followed him.

 Hercules saw an old set of footsteps leading from the entrance of the
thicket and began following their trail. It lead farther into the woods.
Aphrodite continued to tag along behind.

 "Not surprising," Aphrodite answered. "Nicaea was one of Artemis' most
loyal followers until Orionis came between them."

 "Aphrodite? What does this have to do with Iolaus?" Hercules asked
perturbed, "Where is he?"

 "Sheesh, bro. Give the Goddess of Love a break. I'm getting to it. It's a
good story. You'll love it."

 "This has nothing to do with Iolaus, does it?"

 "Well, indirectly. Let me finish."

 As far as goddesses go, Aphrodite could be one of the most stubborn, and
it seemed a good bet to Hercules that the goddess had another agenda. The
demigod decided that Aphrodite would eventually tell him what he wanted to
know. He just had to wait until she was ready, and that meant listening to
her long winded, although well meaning story. "Of course," he thought, "it
could also be a delaying tactic."

 Hercules continued to follow the trail, and he was sure it would
ultimately lead him to Iolaus. He wasn't going to stop the search for his
partner as he absently listened to Aphrodite prattle on.

 "Both Artemis and Nicaea were in love with Orionis, you see, and Orionis
had the good sense to fall for Nicaea."

 "With your blessings, of course," he commented.

 "Of course. You think I wanted the wicked witch of the woods to end up
with the most gorgeous hunter alive? Well, Curly excluded, of course.
Pu-leese! Why it would suit me fine if Artemis ends up a wrinkled old
spinster. The way she tried to trick Iolaus in that beauty contest..."

 "Get on with the story, Aphrodite," Hercules demanded impatiently.

 "Oh yeah," Aphrodite said as she continued to follow Hercules into the
forest. 

 "Artemis wasn't content to leave the two lovers alone. You know how green
with envy and manipulative she can get, and well, Orionis was not immune
to what she would call her womanly charms." Aphrodite rolled her eyes in
distain. "Nicaea was still loyal to Artemis but often boasted how she was
a much better archer, so Artemis challenged Nicaea to a contest. If
Artemis won, Nicaea would give up claim to Orionis."

 "And if Nicaea won?" Hercules asked, not particularly curious, but hoping
his false interest would help the story along. 

 "Are you kidding? Nicaea wasn't supposed to win," Aphrodite announced as
if the outcome was inevitable.

 "Let me guess, Nicaea won anyway," Hercules answered.

 "You got it, Bro. And you know what Artemis does when she gets angry."

 "Unfortunately, I do," Hercules said remembering how Artemis had turned
Iolaus into a deer after hunting the Golden Hind. "So, what did Artemis
turn Nicaea into? This so-called beast of the forest?"

 "Well, not exactly..." 

 Aphrodite suddenly stopped, leaving Hercules traveling on his own. When
the preoccupied demigod realized that Aphrodite had suddenly become
silent, he turned around.

 The Goddess of Love had stepped in something cold and soft. She looked
down at her foot as she slowly hoisted it out of the brown goo. "What is
this?" she asked holding her foot up precariously as she pointed toward
the brown stinky mess.

 "It's dung. From a carnivore by the looks of it," Hercules answered as he
made a cursory inspection.

 Aphrodite made a sour face. "Eww, yuck. Get it off," she demanded.

 Hercules walked back to the goddess. As he passed an overhanging tree, he
plucked off a large leaf. "Tell me where I can find Iolaus or you can get
it off yourself," he answered as he handed Aphrodite the leaf.

 Aphrodite took the leaf and began to daintily wipe the dung from her
sandal. She held her breath from the stench and Hercules feared she would
soon pass out from lack of oxygen. The demigod came over and finished
cleaning the excrement from the goddess' sandal.

 "I know you`re worried about him, Hercules, but Asclepius has assured me
that he`s in very good hands."

 `If you don't mind, I'd like to see that for myself."

 "Sure, I could let you do that, but then you'd be destroying two lives
today instead of helping one. If Iolaus' blindness is permanent, then he
needs to deal with it on his own terms."

 "I can help him," Hercules protested.

 "Sure. Like you always do. Fetching him water. Helping him walk. Catching
him when he stumbles. I know you, you won't be able to restrain yourself.
You're all about helping people. You'll smother him with your assistance.
Look what you're doing right now?"

 Aphrodite's eyes caught the demigod's and they both looked down at her
clean sandal.

 "Aphrodite, I've got to make sure he's alright."

 "If it's meant for Sweetcheeks to walk in darkness for the rest of his
life, then there`s going to be a time when he'll need you. Right now, bro,
he needs time." Aphrodite answered as she gave him a reassuring pat on his
shoulder, "and right now Nicaea needs him."

 "Why?" Hercules asked.

 Aphrodite smiled as she wrapped her arm around her brother's massive
bicep, "If I take you to Iolaus, you promise you won't go all mushy on
me?"

 "I promise, I won't go all mushy on you," Hercules conceded.

 "Good, because the Goddess of Love can only take so much schmaltz."

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

 The room was quiet and Iolaus and Breccia had settled on the bed playing
a game of rock, dagger, parchment. Iolaus rested his left hand on his
knee, and on the count of three, Breccia would place her choice of rock,
dagger or parchment onto his palm as he gestured his choice of tools with
his other hand. It was a game a blind man could play, and he was winning
against the young child.

 Breccia needed to be returned home, but that would have to wait until the
morning. Iolaus hoped her mother had not given up home, but he had no way
of knowing how long he had been unconscious or how long the little girl
had been lost.

 Iolaus was thankful for the distraction of Breccia's care giving. It kept
him from dwelling on his blindness and thinking of how his friendship with
Hercules would change. He tried not to think of himself growing old and
ornery in The Blind Folk's home. 

 He imagined that Hercules would visit him regularly at first, but soon
the visits would become less and less frequent as the stories of his
exploits became more and more prevalent. 

 He avoided wondering if Hercules would take up with another partner. He
cringed at the faces of some of the candidates as they traveled
unceremoniously through his mind.

 While she watched them play, Nicaea tried to hide her pain from her two
guests. But Iolaus, concerned with her obvious discomfort, would stop his
play with Breccia every time Nicaea let out a burdensome moan. The young
girl too would quiet and continued to keep a scrutinizing eye on Nicaea.
The continual staring was beginning to unnerve the resident of the forest.

 Breccia watched Nicaea wondering what she had done to make the frightful
woman not like her. Every time Breccia would look in her direction, Nicaea
would turn away and draw her cloak tighter against her body. Breccia
couldn't help but wonder why.

 "Ha. Ha." Iolaus laughed, parchment wraps the rock. I win again."

 "One more time?" Breccia pleaded taking her attention off Nicaea.

 "Okay, but then you've got to take a nap," Iolaus answered. In truth, he
had not fully recovered from his injuries and was tiring quickly.

 A few rounds later Iolaus turned toward his host. He had not heard her
stir for several minutes. "Nicaea?" he inquired. 

 "She's sleeping," Breccia answered. 

 "Are you sure?" Iolaus asked, "you know she's not feeling well."

 "She feel bad? Why?" Breccia asked in return. 

 Iolaus thought the child was too young to explain the cause of Nicaea's
injury, and the idea that she had been hurt trying to save Breccia from
the beast may upset the already traumatized young girl. Hoping a
simplistic answer would suffice, Iolaus answered, "The monster hurt her."

 Breccia nodded in understanding. After all, Iolaus had told her he had
exorcized the monster from her earlier in the day. She decided killing the
monster inside her must have hurt.

 With growing concern, Iolaus got up from the bed to check on Nicaea. He
reached up and touched her fevered brow. His hand rested carefully against
her forehead, so much so that he missed the scurfy texture of her cursed
left side, but the brief touch identified a raging fever.

 Breccia curiously followed behind Iolaus. The hunter could hear the
patter from her small feet on the hard, wooden floor. He turned to the
young girl and whispered, "Let's let her sleep, okay?"

 "Okay," Breccia answered, but did not immediately follow Iolaus back to
the bed. Regarding Nicaea, she crawled up onto the rungs of the chair and
patted the sleeping adult's shoulder with compassion. "It'll be okay," she
said to Nicaea. 

 Breccia had never been this close to the woman that had the green, scaly
skin. Curiosity was getting the best of the small child, and she wanted to
see Nicaea's deformed face up close and personal.

 Iolaus, in an effort to prove to the young girl that he was not a
monster, allowed Breccia to touch his swollen face. Convinced by Iolaus
that Nicaea was not a monster, the young girl decided the sleeping woman
would not mind a cursory inspection to dispel her fears.

 Breccia brought out her little hand and pulled up the edge of the hood
that hid Nicaea's face. The hood cast a dark shadow on Nicaea's cursed
left side, so Breccia had to lean into Nicaea to get a better look. 

 It was then that Nicaea woke from her restless sleep. 

 Startled to see the young girl with the dark, scrutinizing eyes staring
down at her, Nicaea jumped and then groaned with the sudden movement. The
abruptness of Nicaea's waking in turn startled Breccia, and in response
the young girl screamed and quickly jumped off the chair rungs and ran
toward Iolaus.

 Iolaus had barely stood up when Breccia grabbed the hunter's leg. Iolaus
smoothed the hair on the child's head before she ran behind him for
protection. He took two steps toward Nicaea with Breccia peaking through
his legs.

 "Are you okay?" Iolaus asked.

 Nicaea rubbed her face trying to ease her grogginess. "I`m fine," she
rasped, her throat dry and scratchy. She got up from her chair. "She just
startled me, that's all." Nicaea said in panicked response. She looked at
the frightened face of Breccia peaking out between Iolaus` legs. "I need
some air."

 Nicaea step out of the cabin for a moment, giving her a respite from the
child's admonitions and constant stares.

 Once out the door, she took several steps away from the cabin. It was
late afternoon and the thicket was generally filled with a multitude of
sounds. The rhythmic knocking of a woodpecker on a dead tree deep within
the woods brought Nicaea's attention to the top of the trees. A lone cry
from a crow added to the cacophony. The bird swooped down from the top of
a tree and landed on the dead beast's body: the carcass that still lay
close to the cabin.

 It was normally this time of day when the howls and maniacal laughs of
the beast would begin echoing through the forest. The beasts did most of
their hunting at dusk, but the forest floor beyond Nicaea was still with
silence.

 Concerned for his host, Iolaus walked out of the cabin. "Nicaea?" he
called.

 Nicaea considered not answering him as she desperately wanted to escape
into solitude for awhile.

 "Over here," she reluctantly answered as she continued to regard the crow
on top of the beast.

 Iolaus stepped cautiously towards Nicaea. He stood next to her a minute
before he spoke. "Are you okay?" 

 "They're all gone, Iolaus."

 "What's all gone?" he asked.

 "The beasts," she answered as a crow began to pick at the raw wound at
the beast's side.

 "How can you tell?" 

 Nicaea's focus for the past thirteen years had been the beast. She lived
within their realm. She hunted them. She was even mistaken for them. But
that's not how she knew they were finally extinguished. The quiet of the
forest was her first clue, and the dead animal was her second.

 "The beasts begin prowling this area about this time of day," Nicaea
answered as her gaze moved toward the setting sun. "It's too quiet.
There's no sound of them moving through the woods. No sound of their
unnerving cackle." Her eyes set on the beast's dead body once again, "The
body is still here?"

 "Okay..." Iolaus questioned not sure why that would be an indication of
the extinction of the species.

 Nicaea heard the confusion veiled in his statement and she began to
explain, "Even though the beasts generally hunt alone, they have a deep
familial system. They care about the members of their pride. They would
never permit another beast's remains to stay in the forest for crows and
other carrion animals to feast on. They would bring it back to their
burial lair."

 "Burial lair?" Iolaus asked. He had heard stories from travelers about
sacred burial grounds in India where large creatures called elephants went
to die. 

 Nicaea nodded, and then added, "I've seen it."

 "But what about the beast I found dead, at its lair,"

 Nicaea laughed sardonically, "Like all societies, Iolaus, there are
always outcasts." 

 Iolaus recognized the predication in her thinly veiled comment.

 "Nicaea? How long have you been here?" He finally asked.

 "Thirteen years," she answered.

 "How? And why here?" he asked, knowing first hand that this region of the
thicket was not the most hospitable.

 Nicaea, suddenly became weary and stepped away from the carcass. She
turned and found a large boulder to rest on. She groaned as she made the
painful transition from standing to sitting. 

 Iolaus followed her and sat on the ground next to Nicaea, groaning
slightly himself. He touched Nicaea's arm as he made his unsteady approach
toward the ground.

 Wary of the touch, Nicaea immediately pulled her arm away. She let out a
long sigh. She knew it was just a matter of time before the hunter would
ask questions. "I was banished here by Artemis. I was a fool; a paragon to
the Huntress and this..." she said as she made a wide sweeping motion with
her hands, "...is the punishment for my foolish pride."

 "There must be more to it than that." Iolaus thought, knowing it must
have been something unforgivable for Artemis to have banished her. He
remembered well the Goddess of the Hunt's kind of retribution. He asked,
"What did you do?"

 "I fell in love."

 "So?" Iolaus questioned.

 "With the same man Artemis desired."

 "Oh," Iolaus answered and turned away.

 "Orionis was a great hunter and as loyal to Artemis as I once was. He
said he was in love with me, but he was also infatuated with the Goddess
of the Hunt. Artemis, in a desperate attempt to decide who would win the
affection of Orionis, challenged me to an archery competition."

 "And you lost," Iolaus surmised.

 "No, I won. But pride and jealousy are not only human traits. Artemis was
so angered at loosing the contest, that she banished me here. And she made
sure I would never win the love of Orionis again."

 "Ouch. I see," Iolaus announced. "But why not just leave the forest? What
is holding you here?"

 Nicaea touched her disfigured face and answered, "How's Breccia?"

 Iolaus smiled. Nicaea was trying to change the subject. "She's fine. She
was more frightened than anything else. So, is it a charm or something
else that's holding you here?"

 Nicaea thought of Breccia and the fear the child had displayed at the
tiniest glimpse of her face. Since her exile into the forest, Nicaea could
feel herself loosing more and more of her humanity, to the point she
preferred the company of the beasts to that of humans. She had hoped that
by rescuing Iolaus she could redeem some of it back, but after frightening
the child once again, she knew that the thicket could be her only home.
"It's the beast," Nicaea answered, "the beast within that is holding me
here." 

 She looked at Iolaus, "The swelling is going down in your face. We should
really put more medicine on it," Nicaea announced. 

 "Come on, Nicaea," Iolaus complained, "That stuff smells like something
you'd scrape off your boot. No offense, of course," he added protectively.

 "It served its purpose You are still alive, although I had hoped it would
save your eyesight."

 "Yeah, about that. I guess I should say, thank you."

 Nicaea tried to smile, "About the not seeing part, I bet," she thought.
She got up from the boulder and suppressed another groan.

 Iolaus also got up, but he was still recovering from injuries of his own.
As he moved forward, his foot slipped into a moss covered hole. Iolaus was
unprepared for the jarring motion. Still weak from the poison, his muscles
could not respond in time and Iolaus careened forward. Instinctively, the
blond hunter reached for Nicaea to keep from falling. 

 His hand gripped the middle of her cursed forearm, where the
gray-greenish serpent's flesh was thick with protective scales. Iolaus
could feel the scurfy skin, and even blind could imagine its scaly origin.
Images of Echidna quickly filled his mind.

 "What happened to you?" Iolaus asked with revulsion. His inquiry was not
born of meanness but of concern for her plight. He finally understood what
Artemis must have done to her and why she made the secluded, primeval
forest her home. 

 Iolaus had seen jealousy turn many a human into a raving lunatic
especially when spurned by love. It would not be hard to imagine what
would happen to a rival perceived as a threat by a goddess with the kinds
of powers that Artemis possessed. 

 Nicaea, however, had only known the cruel intentions of the hunters that
she had met in the thicket. Often mistaken for a beast and pursued
tirelessly, those that were not abhorred and frightened by her visage
would hunt her down, intent on killing the woman that now bore little
resemblance to mankind.

 She remembered Iolaus hunting her down too, and the compassion she felt
for the man she had saved from the widow's thorn suddenly turned into
enmity.

 In an effort to escape from her perceived tormentor, Nicaea pulled away
for Iolaus' strong grip and twisted her torso in a hasty move to retreat.
In doing so, Nicaea tore open the wound that she so recently sustained.
She clutched her side and tried to stifle a groan in renewed agony as she
backed away from Iolaus. She could feel the wetness of the blood as it
seeped through her dress.

 Iolaus heard her strangled moan and moved forward to try to console her
and explain his reaction but in his haste, he stumbled. His tortured legs,
still protesting from the previous fumble, could not stop his descent.

 "Iolaus!" Hercules shouted from behind. Both he and Aphrodite had come up
upon the cabin and witnessed Iolaus stumbling as he got up from the
ground. Hercules quickened his pace and rushed to the aid of his blind
friend. He was so close when Iolaus stumbled again, that he was able to
catch Iolaus before he fell. His massive hands held his partner firm.

 Nicaea turned around at the demigod's verbal warning. She watched as
Hercules beat a path to Iolaus and caught him in his strong arms. Still,
her fear of being scrutinized by yet another intruder made the woman
quickly leave for the protection of her cabin. She hobbled toward the
structure still gripping her side in pain.

 "Herc. What are you doing here?" Iolaus asked.

 Hercules checked out his buddy. He could see the damage the widow's thorn
had done to his partner's face. He saw the long, thin red line that ran
across the top of his forehead to the middle of his cheek. A ridge was
torn across Iolaus' left eyelid. The left side of his face was especially
swollen with the poison. His right eye remained fixed and stared blankly
at Hercules. Thinner, less swollen scratches crisscrossed Iolaus' face,
chest and arms like an Athenian roadmap. "Aphrodite told me what
happened," Hercules answered briefly.

 "Oh great," Iolaus said in affront. "Aphrodite is here?"

 "Hi, Sweetcheeks," Aphrodite called out demurely. She had tried to keep
Hercules from coming to the rescue of Iolaus, but the demigod insisted. 

 Knowing Iolaus' love for the demigod, but also recognizing the hunter's
need for his independence, Iolaus would have a difficult time refusing his
partner's help. Hercules, whose intentions she knew were good, would only
muck up everything with his innate over-protectiveness. She tried to delay
Hercules as long as she could, and seeing the unsettled frown on Iolaus'
face, Aphrodite decided it was time for a hasty exit.

 "Do you hear that?" Aphrodite asked as she lifted her head to the
heavens.

 "Hear what?" Hercules answered.

 "It sounds to me like daddy dearest is calling. Got to blow, bro," she
answered and then disappeared in a shower of pink sparks.

 And then in an ethereal voice. Aphrodite warned, "You promised,
Hercules." 

 "Promised what?" Iolaus asked.

 "Nothing. I just owe Aphrodite a favor," Hercules lied. 

 The woman with a face that only a swamp monster could love ran into her
cabin as quickly as her assaulted body would let her. Once in, she threw
open her cape and stood in the middle of the room gently clutching her
side. A red spot on her sage colored dress continued to grow as it
absorbed the blood from her reopened wound.

 Breccia stood by the side of the bed and watched the slow seepage of
blood on the dress. She may not have seen a monster before, but she had
seen blood, and the blood that was staining Nicaea's dress was the same
color that lined Iolaus' scratches or even Breccia's skinned knee. She
could tell by Nicaea's grimace, that the woman was in pain.

 The vindictive goddess that was in love with Orionis did her best to
destroy Nicaea's life. Artemis turned her into a half-human monster and
then held her prisoner of the forest. But in an effort to give false hope
to the young hunter, Artemis attached two provisions to her spell. Nicaea
would be allowed to leave the forest if the beasts of the forest were
extinguished, and she could find someone to love her in her cursed,
abominable form. In the lonely hostility of the forest. Artemis knew the
odds were against Nicaea.

 "You bleeding bad," Breccia said as she slowly walked up to Nicaea and
pointed to her injury. The young girl seemed no longer afraid of Nicaea,
but more afraid of the wound to her side. 

 "You think?" Nicaea answered half in jest. She sucked in a large gulp of
air as she carefully removed her hand from her wound.

 "It'll be alright." Breccia announced as she looked up at Nicaea. She
wanted to give the woman a hug, like her mother would give her when she
was hurting, but Nicaea seemed reluctant to accept any touch. Even so,
Breccia wrapped her arms around the cursed woman's leg in comfort. 

 Nicaea looked down, surprised at the young girl's showing of affection.
She dropped her scaled and webbed hand to stroked the young girl's hair,
"Yes, I know. It'll be alright," she said trying to soothe the child who
was trying so hard to comfort her. 

 "Nicaea's a good monster," Breccia said as she looked back up at Nicaea.
Then the young girl dropped her arms from around the Nicaea's limb and in
steely determination announced, "I get Lolaus." 

 A moment later, the young girl pounded toward the door. Before Nicaea
could protest, Breccia was gone. 

 Nicaea collapsed in her chair as she spoke to the empty air. "No,
Breccia, don't get Iolaus." 

 Hercules was relieved that Iolaus was alive, but by the looks of his
distended face, he held little hope that his partner would ever see again.
After seeing Iolaus in the condition he was in, Hercules was afraid he
would have to break his promise to his little sister. The demigod had
promised Aphrodite that he would let Iolaus decide for himself if he was
ready to leave the forest. 

 Trying to ease the worry that was evident in his voice, the demigod
asked, "Do you feel as bad as you look?" 

 "I don't know. How do I look?" Iolaus asked. He silently resented
Hercules' evident scrutiny.

 "Bad," he said. His hands still gripped his partner's arms.

 "Oh, I see," Iolaus answered and sniggered a bit, trying to make light of
his current situation. He could feel Hercules' strong grip. "You know,
Herc, you can let go of me now," he said slightly perturbed.

 "Oh yeah, right," the demigod said as he unleashed his tight grip. "It's
good to see you."

 "Wish I could say the same." Iolaus answered as he turned away from
Hercules. "Where's Nicaea?"

 "She saw me and ran inside," Hercules said and then mused thoughtfully
under his breath, "First time I ever got that reaction."

 "Welcome to the club," Iolaus answered recalling Breccia's first contact
with the hunter. He was concerned about Nicaea, but he was also wondered
as to why Hercules would come into the forest to find him. "Herc, why are
you really here?"

 "Iolaus, I was worried about you. No one in the village had seen you in
days," Hercules announced.

 The scowl on Iolaus' face told the demigod that the admission was not
what Iolaus needed to hear. "Didn't Aphrodite tell you I was okay?"

 "Well, yes," Hercules protested, "but look at you?" Hercules answered,
continuing his sight-filled euphemisms and kicking himself every time he
would use one. "Come on, Iolaus. How well can you be? You're blind. And
it's clear your friend, Nicaea, isn't taking care of you. Your face isn't
even bandaged."

 "Can't stand to look at me, eh?" Iolaus answered. "As a matter of fact,
Nicaea wants the bandages back on. I'm the one who took them off. I'm
alive, Hercules, and have Nicaea to thank for that. But even blind I can
see you didn't trust me to take care of myself."

 "If you say she saved your life, then I owe Nicaea my gratitude, but I'd
feel better if you'd let me take you back to the village or we can get
Aesclepius to look at your injuries."

 "I`m okay Herc, but I can't right now, Nicaea needs me."

 "And I don't? Iolaus, you`re not thinking this out. You're my partner and
my friend, and I`m not going to let you stay in the forest alone. It's not
safe. What about these so called beasts? I heard they would..."

 Iolaus interrupted him by holding his hand up to Hercules in protest.
"Let me guess, eat me so much as to look at me? First of all, I know what
I'm doing. As for being your partner, do you really want a blind man to
watch your back?

 "Now you're not being fair. You're also my friend, my best friend."
Hercules stated.

 Iolaus knew the statement was unfair, but the hunter also resented
Hercules' constant need to rescue him out of trouble. It had been that way
since they were kids. Even then, the demigod tried to dictate what Iolaus
should do. He feared Hercules would react differently because of his
blindness, and the protectiveness his friend was displaying was just the
succoring Iolaus did not need at the moment. 

 Their conversation was stopped when Breccia ran out of the cabin and
headed straight for Iolaus. She stopped just inches from Iolaus and looked
up into his swollen face.

 "Nicaea's hurt real bad," Breccia said as she tugged on Iolaus' hand
beckoning him to follow her.

 "See? Nicaea needs me," Iolaus answered to Hercules Breccia began pulling
Iolaus toward the cabin. 

 Iolaus was determined to help the benefactor that helped him, so he tried
one more time to make his stubborn friend and partner acquiesce.
"Hercules, you of all people should know why I need to be here. It'll only
be a couple of days. Until Nicaea gets better. What can possibly happen in
two days?"

 "Iolaus," Hercules responded back, but even through the swelling,
Hercules could see the determined look on his partner's face. Iolaus' mind
was made up, at least for the time being. 

 Hercules followed closely behind Iolaus, still wary of his wobbly stance.
As they passed by the dead beast not far from the front door of the cabin,
Iolaus stopped and pointed to the putrefying animal before him.

 "Oh, and see?" he said as Breccia pulled closer to him. "I killed the
last of the beasts this morning. I even managed to rescue Breccia."

 "This morning?" Hercules asked incredulously.

 "You have been busy," Hercules said to himself in affirmation as he
sidestepped the dead beast and continued to follow Iolaus, this time a few
more paces away.

 "That's right. This morning. They won't be attacking anyone anymore. So
you have nothing to worry about. I can take care of myself."

 Breccia continued her pull on Iolaus' arm. As the two approached the
cabin, Hercules could see that Iolaus was more confident in his step. It
was clear to the demigod that Iolaus now had his bearings.

 Without knowing it, Iolaus accomplished the first condition for release
of Artemis' spell. He eliminated the last of the bloodthirsty beasts that
kept Nicaea prisoner. In addition, Breccia's unconditional love and
concern for Nicaea accomplished the second of Artemis' expiatory
offerings. Inside the cabin, the spell had been broken. After thirteen
years of growth, the scaly skin on Nicaea's left side was slowly
disappearing. The barbells on her head were being replaced by golden brown
tendrils.

 Hercules fought against the feeling that Iolaus didn't need his help.
Even blind, Hercules could see that Iolaus was still a capable hunter and
his handicap had not dampened his desire to help those in need. Still, the
demigod had been aiding people since he was a boy and the will to leave
his stubborn partner without an offer of assistance in some way could not
pass Hercules by.

 When they reached the doorway to the cabin, Hercules caught up to Iolaus
and put a reassuringly hand on his shoulder. Sighing in resignation, he
asked, "If you won't go, what can I do to help?"

 "If you want to help," Iolaus prefaced, "then take Breccia back to the
village. I'm sure her mother is worried about her."

 "What about you?" Hercules asked.

 Iolaus almost sighed in exasperation. "Just take care of Breccia. When
you get back then we can talk about me. Hercules, I've got to go. Nicaea
needs me." Iolaus reiterated again. 

 Before going back into the cabin, Iolaus turned and bent down so that he
was roughly the same height as Breccia. Breccia still clutched his hand.

 "Breccia, I want you to do a favor for me," Iolaus pleaded

 "What is it, Lolaus?" she asked.

 "This is my best friend, Hercules. I want you to go with him. He's going
to take you back to your mother."

 "He is?" Breccia asked, her eyes wide with excitement. She gave Iolaus a
big hug.

 "That's right." Iolaus answered as he returned the hug.

 "Tell Nicey bye for me," Breccia petitioned.

 "I will," Iolaus answered back as he released the hold he had on the
little girl.

 "Iolaus, are you sure about this?" Hercules asked as Breccia walked over
and slipped her hand into the palm of the demigod.

 "She needs to get home, Herc, and I'm in no condition to take her there
myself."

 "We can do it together," Hercules answered trying one more time to
convince his partner it was safer to go. "We'll even take Nicaea."

 Iolaus chuckled, "Don't you think you're taking on a little more than you
can chew? A toddler, a blind man and Nicaea." he hesitated briefly, "Oh,
look who I'm talking to, you're Hercules," he answered half in jest.
"Besides, Nicaea won't go. Just get Breccia back home."

 "I still don't like this," Hercules protested.

 "I know," Iolaus answered, "but you'll do it anyway."

 "Yes. You know me too well," Hercules answered back, "I'll be back just
as soon as I can." 

 "I'm not going anywhere."

 Hercules bent down and rested on his heels. "So Breccia, how do you feel
about piggy back rides? Hercules asked. 

 To Breccia's excited nods, the demigod quickly hoisted her up and let her
rest on his shoulders.

 Tightly holding her hands above his head, he turned back to Iolaus.

 "Are you sure," he asked once again hoping his partner would change his
mind.

 "Yeah," Iolaus answered as he waved in the direction of his friends
voice. "Now go." 

 He could hear Hercules begin to move off and then stop. He imagined the
demigod turning back. Iolaus half expected the demigod to change his mind
again and challenge his decision. In an impetus to keep Hercules moving,
Iolaus called, "Hey, Herc. While you're giving her a piggy back ride, tell
her the story of how you got turned into a pig. She'll love it."

 "I'll take it under advisement." Hercules smiled as he began his trip
back to the village.

 Iolaus hesitated only a few moments before he quietly entered the cabin. 

 Even through the chattering teeth of her fevered chills, Nicaea heard him
cross the threshold. She turned around in her chair just far enough to see
him stop at the doorway unsure if it was safe to enter.

 "I told Breccia not to get you," Nicaea said and then noticed the child
was not with Iolaus. "Where is she?"

 "I asked Hercules to take her back to the village," he answered and then
hesitated, "How are you doing?"

 "I reopened the wound."

 Iolaus approached Nicaea. "Bad?"

 "Bad. I tried to put some healing salve on it, but I couldn't reach it."

 "Then let me do it," Iolaus offered. Through the silence of the room he
added, "You know, if you're worried about me seeing something," he
hesitated as he waved a finger toward his eyes, "I promise, I won't look."

 "Why did you come back?" Nicaea asked. There was no admonition in her
voice, only a gentle curiosity. "Why didn't you leave with Breccia and
Hercules?" 

 "Because you needed my help."

 "Then you don't care that I'm a monster? Just as Breccia said I was?"

 Iolaus chuckled, "You're not a monster, and I've seen plenty of them to
know."

 "You can't see," Nicaea said, stating the obvious.

 "Point taken, then let me rephrase it. I know you`re not a monster," the
blind hunter bent down and found her scaled left hand. It was resting on
the chair's arm. He squeezed it reassuringly.

 "What you look like on the outside doesn't make you a monster on the
inside. The face of a beautiful woman can hide a cruel heart, and even the
most vicious beast will love its young. You risked your life twice to save
Breccia and myself. That's hardly the act of a monster."

 "But what Artemis did to me..." Nicaea began.

 "What did Artemis do to you?" he asked, and then admitted, "She turned me
into a deer once."

 Through the pain, Nicaea laughed. It was a weak, ironic laugh, but
encouraging by its very sound. Nicaea was comforted to know that Iolaus
could understand the nature of her curse. So few mortals had any real
contact with the gods. As benevolent as they could be, they generally had
a reputation of being cruel and mean spirited when crossed.

 "I wish it were as simple as being turned into a deer, or a tree, or even
a bug. Then I might be passed off as a part of nature. But as I am now, I
am far from ordinary. Jealousy is a very primal emotion, and I shamed
Artemis by my mastery in archery and retaining the lust of Orionis. In a
fit of rage, Artemis cursed the left side of my body but kept the right as
it was, as I once was. She wanted to remind me everyday of what I had
done, and what I had become."

 "So what?" Iolaus questioned indignantly, "you're going to let her win by
allowing this infection take your life?" Iolaus asked, "Where's the
medicine that you used on me," He turned and began to fumble for the
smelly ointment. He knocked over the bread basket and a couple of candles
from the table in his search.

 Nicaea was sure the deft hunter was trying to create havoc in an
misguided effort for her to acquiesce. In his search, he was
systematically destroying her cabin.

 Finally, Iolaus heard a long, languished sigh before Nicaea responded,
"There's some salve left over on the small table next to the bed."

 "Now you're talking," Iolaus answered as he quit his blind rifling of the
larger table and gracefully walked over to the small table by the bed.

 The red poultice was sealed in a wide-mouthed, wooden jar. Iolaus opened
the container and smelled the familiar but rancid ointment.

 Nicaea got up from her chair, suppressing a moan. The wound had created a
large stain on her dress as the opened sore refused to clot. The poison
from the bite had compromised the clotting.

 She slowly walked over to the bed, noting absently how strange her feet
felt against the wooden floor of the cabin.

 "The medicine was designed to draw out the poison from the widow's thorn.
It wasn't meant to fight off an infection, " Nicaea stated as she sat on
the bed voicing another audible groan.

 Iolaus scooped up some ointment with his fingers. "Well, it can't do any
harm, can it?" he asked and then added, "assuming the smell doesn't kill
you."

 Iolaus smiled warily to try to ease her burden.

 Nicaea tried to smile back, but could only muster a smirk through her
pain. She lifted up the corner of her dress to expose the raw flesh
underneath.

 "Where should I start?" Iolaus asked, as he knelt down beside her. She
guided his hand close to the wound at her side.

 "It begins here and then goes to my back," she answered.

 Nicaea prepared herself for the onslaught of pain from the cold poultice.
As Iolaus' hand touched the sensitive flesh, Nicaea sucked in a large
breath of air and slowly released it.

 Iolaus could feel the jagged edge of the wound which was caused by the
many displaced scales that had replaced her skin there. He followed the
scurfy ridge toward Nicaea's back. Twice he had to reapply the ointment to
his fingers, but several tortured minutes later, Iolaus was finished. He
completed his aid to Nicaea by taking a corner of the bed linen and
tearing off a strip as a bandage.

 Being as gentle as he could, Iolaus wrapped the bandage around her
midsection. When he was finished, Nicaea let out an extended breath, glad
that the palliative treatment was finally complete.

 Delicately, Nicaea pulled the hem of the dress over her wound and got up
from the bed with another tempered groan. 

 "Where are you going?" Iolaus asked in admonition.

 "Back to my chair," Nicaea answered pointing to the wooden seat next to
the fire.

 "Oh no," Iolaus answered back as he grabbed her shoulders as gently as he
could. With a firm push, he forced her back on the bed. "you're getting
the bed tonight. I'll take the chair."

 "Iolaus, I'm fine, really."

 "Uh, uh, uh," he answered back, shaking his finger at her. He grabbed the
wool blanket from the foot of the bed and pulled it up toward his patient.

 "Fine," Nicaea answered understanding that he meant business. She pulled
her legs up from the floor and scooped them under the covering. She laid
on her uninjured side, staring into the fire.

 Iolaus walked over to the chair by the hearth and sat down. His only
regret at the moment was that he couldn't verify that Nicaea was sleeping,
so he listened and waited to hear the rhythmic sounds of her breathing,
breathing that signified a restful sleep. 

 Iolaus had wished that sleep could have come to him so quickly, but he
continued to mull over the conversation that he had with Hercules earlier
in the day. The demigod would be back sometime the next day and they would
have to talk again. His thoughts were all a jumble. Iolaus wasn't sure
what he would tell Hercules. He knew he couldn't be his best friend's
partner anymore, but he didn't want to imagine his life any differently,
either. He also didn't want Hercules to pity him. Iolaus was a proud,
independent man and the demigod's forbearance would probably kill him.

 Iolaus wiped his face as if trying to rid himself of his destructive and
sleep depriving thoughts. As he did so, he noticed his face was less
swollen than it was when he awoke that morning. Hopefully optimistic that
he could delay his decision to Hercules, Iolaus soon found himself
drifting off.

 Iolaus woke to a bright light assaulting his eyes. It took him a few
moment to realize it was the light from the cabin's lone window.

 It was morning, but as if that wasn't astounding enough, Iolaus could see
it was morning, well, at least in one eye. His right eye still remained
sightless. Iolaus' first response was to tell Hercules the good news, and
then of course, he realized his partner was not there.

 Iolaus made a cursory glance around the cabin. The stark and primitively
framed wooden structure was pretty much how he imagined it would be.

 Then his eyes stopped on Nicaea. She was still asleep in her bed. The
description that Nicaea painted of herself the evening before matched
nothing to the image that rested on the bed.

 Long tendrils of golden brown hair framed a delicate face with soft
features. Her skin was smooth and no longer scurfy, with a peaches and
cream complexion. His eyes followed her frame and he quickly noticed the
deep curve of her waist and the well muscled structure of the leg that
peeked out from beneath the covers. Somehow in the middle of the night,
the spell was broken.

 Iolaus walked his chair over to Nicaea as she began to stir from her
sleep.

 She opened her eyes to Iolaus sitting right next to her.

 "You're a sight for sore eye." Iolaus responded as he grinned widely.
Then he followed with, "how did you sleep."

 Nicaea gingerly pulled herself up from the bed. She was still very sore.
"Good. Good," she answered, "I think the fever broke." Then she hesitated
and an equally wide grin crossed her mouth. "Whoa, back up. What did you
just say?"

 "How'd you sleep?" Iolaus answered toying with her.

 "No, before that."

 "You're a sight for sore eye?"

 "You can see?" Nicaea asked incredulous.

 "That's not the only miracle that occurred last night. Look at your
hand," Iolaus said as he pointed to her left hand. The palm of her left
hand was on the bed, still supporting her weary body. 

 Nicaea looked over to the hand Iolaus was pointing to. Gone was the
webbed extensions that connected the base of her fingers. Gone was the
grayish-green color, and gone was the scaly ridges.

 She moved her hand to her face. Her shaking hand touched her face
lightly. "The curse?." Nicaea asked.

 "You're beautiful," Iolaus answered, "but I already knew that."

  
   
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