Fanfic: Rarely Simple and Never Straightforward - Chapter 3 (Part 2)
Title: Rarely Simple and Never Straighforward (Chapter 3 - Part 2)
Author: Yassandra
Fandom: Atlantis
Pairing/characters: Jason, Pythagoras & Hercules
Rating: G
Warnings: N/A
Disclaimer: Not mine. BBC and Urban Myth Films own them.
Word count: 27136 (This chapter (both parts) - 10578)
Summary: When Hercules manages to find a job that will take Jason and Pythagoras out of Atlantis for a few days, it seems relatively simple and straightforward. Unfortunately, things rarely go to plan where these three are concerned. Alone and cut off, Jason & Pythagoras can only rely on each other to survive while Hercules sets off to find and rescue his friends.
A/N: Written for Round 7 of the Small Fandom Big Bang, and also for Hurt/Comfort Bingo for the 'Stranded/Survival Scenario' prompt.
Please go and check out the lovely artwork by MistressKat and give the artist some appreciation too :-)The art is integrated into the story.
Chapter 3 - Running Out of Time (Part 2)
“Looks like the coast is clear,” Jason said, pulling back round the pillar to face his two companions. “Come on.”
He limped out into the main body of the temple, not bothering to turn around to see if his companions were following him; he knew that Pythagoras, at least, would be there. At the base of the pillar where Eryalus had hidden the box, he stopped and peered at the floor.
“This is where the jewels were hidden?” Sebastos asked.
“Yes,” Pythagoras replied.
“Are you sure?” Sebastos said, frowning. “The floor is made stone. How did Eryalus manage to hide them here?”
Jason rolled his eyes.
“He levered up one of the flags, dug a shallow pit and then dropped the stone back into place,” he said patiently. “The men working on the statue had left a pile of tools at the base and he used those. It only took a few minutes really… if you’d been here just a few moments earlier, you would have caught him in the act.”
He looked around.
“We’ll need to find some tools ourselves,” he added.
“There is a room where the craftsmen store their tools,” Sebastos replied. He ventured a weak smile. “I have acted as a messenger between the palace and the temple for many years now. I was a child when I was first given the role. One of the advantages is that there are few places in either building that I do not know.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Pythagoras asked.
They hurried off towards the storeroom that Sebastos was pointing out; a little room hidden behind the great statue of Athena. Both Pythagoras and Jason had been in it in their exploration of the temple but there hadn’t been any tools in there then (and it wouldn’t have helped them if there had been - given that they would not have been able to touch the things let alone use them); they could only hope that Sebastos knew what he was talking about now.
At first, Jason tried to keep up with the other two but after a moment he stopped. His leg was really hurting and he had the feeling that he really shouldn’t walk any further than was absolutely necessary on it. It was, perhaps, a better idea to rest it as much as possible now so that he would be able to run if he needed to later. As it was, it didn’t really need all three of them to go to fetch tools, so he leant against a pillar and waited for the other two to come back.
It was only a matter of a few minutes before Pythagoras and Sebastos returned, a short-handled spade (which could be used both to pry up the flagstone and dig up the casket) clutched in Sebastos' hand. He ran over to the pillar where the jewels were hidden and immediately set about prising up the paving. The slab came easily enough; evidence, perhaps, that the stones had not yet bedded into place properly.
Sebastos offered the other two a nervous look and set about uncovering the small casket.
“That was easier than I expected,” he muttered.
As he spoke, the earth heaved; a tremor that made the entire temple quake.
“I am afraid we may not have much time,” Pythagoras said, clinging onto a pillar to try to stay on his feet. “The Gods are angry.”
Over his shoulder, he heard Jason muttering something about natural occurrences and plates rubbing together, but (like so many of Jason’s odd ideas or comments) he chose to ignore it. Honestly, sometimes he worried about the state of his friend’s mind (and sense of timing).
Sebastos nodded tightly and moved a little faster. In just a moment or two, he had lifted the small box out of its hiding place.
“So much trouble about such a small thing,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Pythagoras agreed. “Now we just have to place the jewels in Hera’s crown.”
“And how exactly are we going to do that? Sebastos asked. “I did not like to ask before, but the crown is already in place on the statue. I am not a craftsman. I would not have the first idea of how to attach the things… besides which, the statue is exceptionally large and I do not have a head for heights.”
“You are afraid of heights?” Pythagoras clarified.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Sebastos replied. “I’m afraid that if I attempted to climb up there I would grow dizzy and sick and be no use to anyone.”
Pythagoras pulled a face.
“Then we may be in trouble,” he answered.
Jason looked at the box in Sebastos’ hands and then up at the statue thoughtfully.
“I might have an idea,” he said. “I just need to try something first.”
“What?” Pythagoras asked suspiciously. He knew from experience that Jason’s ideas could sometimes be more than a little risky.
Jason ignored him.
“Put the casket down on the ground,” he instructed Sebastos.
Once the young man had done as he had asked, Jason reached down as if he was going to pick it up. His fingers passed right through it (which was definitely a weird sensation).
“And what did that tell you?” Pythagoras asked sharply. “We already know that we can touch nothing.”
“That isn’t strictly true though, is it?” Jason challenged him. “We can open doors… and we moved that bench to free him easily enough.” He gestured at Sebastos.
“That is true,” Pythagoras murmured thoughtfully.
Jason turned his head to look at Sebastos.
“Pick the box up and try to hand it to me,” he said.
“Surely the same thing will happen as when you tried to pick it up from the floor?” Sebastos said.
“Humour me,” Jason replied with an encouraging smile.
Sebastos rolled his eyes but did as he was asked.
Jason looked at the box once more.
“Alright then,” he murmured. “Let’s try this.”
He reached out to take the jewels from Sebastos; his fingers closing firmly around the box and lifting it clear easily. He puffed out a heavy breath.
“I wasn’t sure that would work,” he admitted.
“So Sebastos can hand us things,” Pythagoras said softly.
“Yeah,” Jason answered. “Since he was the only one who could see and talk to us, I thought that maybe he was some sort of link between our time and his.”
“So while we cannot generally touch items from his time because they do not actually exist in ours…” Pythagoras began.
“He can sort of bring things from out of his time into ours,” Jason finished. “I know it doesn’t really make sense, but we haven’t actually known the rules at any point anyway, so I thought it was worth a try.”
“It seems that the Goddess really does want us to put matters right,” Pythagoras remarked. “Otherwise I very much doubt that would have worked.”
“At least it means that one of us can climb up there instead of him,” Jason said. “I don’t have a problem with heights so…”
Pythagoras sighed in exasperation and glared at his friend.
“You also have an injured leg,” he pointed out. “I do not think you should even be attempting to climb the statue.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jason protested.
“I don’t care if you think you will be or not,” Pythagoras said firmly. “I am not going to allow you to do this thing. Give the jewels to me. If someone must climb up there, I will be the one to do it.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Jason protested.
“I would imagine it would be more dangerous for you than for me at this present moment,” Pythagoras retorted sharply. “I have two working arms and two working legs. You are struggling to keep up whenever we need to walk anywhere… and don’t think I didn’t notice you leaning on that pillar for support when Sebastos and I came back from fetching the tools. Besides,” he added, “do you have even the faintest idea of how to attach these jewels into Hera’s crown?”
“I’d have worked it out,” Jason muttered. “And I doubt you have much more idea how to do it than me.”
“Ah but you see that is where you are wrong,” Pythagoras replied. “When I was growing up on Samos, my mother’s family were craftsmen. They lived at the opposite side of the island to them and we visited infrequently, but I still grew up watching them working in their workshop. I may not have chosen to follow the path of a craftsman myself but I still understand the principles.”
He moved out into the centre of the chamber, gesturing for the other two to follow him.
“Do you see the gaps in the crown where the jewels are meant to be set?” he asked, pointing up at the thing.
“Yes,” Jason replied begrudgingly.
“Surrounding those gaps are small prongs,” Pythagoras stated. “Once the jewels are set where they should be, the craftsman would bend those prongs over to hold them in place permanently… Of course, that would usually happen at a work bench on the ground and not up in the air,” he added. “I cannot imagine what the craftsmen here must have been thinking to crown the statue before the jewels were set into it. It would have made their job ten times harder.”
He looked significantly at Jason.
“So now that we have ascertained that I know what I am doing, will you trust me to do this thing?” he asked softly.
Jason sighed ruefully and pulled a face.
“I don’t like it,” he admitted, “but you probably are the best person to be doing this at the moment.”
Pythagoras smiled and held out his hand. Jason handed him the box and the young mathematician opened it, revealing the gems that were nestled inside.
“It will be easier to carry them without the box,” he remarked, taking the jewels out and discarding the casket.
He twisted up the hem of his tunic and tied it into a knot, tucking the knot into his belt to make a small but secure pouch. He dropped the gems inside.
“I will need a tool to bend those prongs into place,” he murmured.
“I think I saw something that will work in the storeroom,” Sebastos said, keen to help. “I will go and get it.”
He hurried off before either of the others could say anything.
“Do you really believe that what we are doing might actually change what happened in the past?” Pythagoras asked conversationally.
Jason shrugged.
“Who knows?” he said. “I’ve never been in this precise sort of situation before.”
“No,” Pythagoras agreed. “It is a little beyond my experience too.” He looked towards the back of the chamber where Sebastos had disappeared behind the statue. “I like Sebastos,” he admitted. “I hope that what we are doing does change the past and that he survives.”
“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “Me too.”
Before either of them could say any more, Sebastos darted out from behind the statue and trotted over to them, brandishing a pair of pliers.
“Those should work,” Pythagoras said, taking them from the young man. “Thank you.”
He hesitated for a moment.
“I think you should leave as soon as I have the jewels in Hera’s crown,” he advised softly.
“Why?” Sebastos asked. “The palace and the temple are the only home I have ever known. Surely once the gems are in place, everything will be able to return to normal?”
“Even if the jewels are returned, there is no proof that you did not steal them in the first place,” Pythagoras said seriously. “And there is also the matter of the priest you are accused of attacking… I fear that they will not let you go even if the jewels are placed into Hera’s crown. They believe you to be guilty and I suspect your execution will continue regardless.”
Sebastos visibly deflated.
“So I will still lose everything,” he murmured.
“You’ll be alive,” Jason replied bluntly but not unkindly. “And that has to be better than the alternative.”
He looked significantly at the brazen bull.
“You are right,” Sebastos sighed. “Of course you are… It is just… where will I go? I know nowhere other than here.”
“If you will take my advice, you will run as fast and as far away from here as you can,” Pythagoras answered. “You should get enough of a head start before they discover you are not in the cell to allow you to evade any pursuers completely.”
“I will take your advice,” Sebastos said. “Starting again somewhere new will not be easy… but I would rather that than face my end in the bull.”
“How did you get here?” Eryalus’ voice rang out across the chamber. “How did you escape?”
He strode towards Sebastos, still apparently unaware of Jason and Pythagoras’ presence; still unable to see or hear them. As he moved nearer to the centre of the chamber, the lifted flagstone and small pile of earth from where Sebastos had dug up the casket caught his eye and he turned his head to look fully, eyes growing wide as he spotted the discarded jewel box.
“Where are they?” he hissed turning back towards Sebastos and striding forwards; bearing down on the young man. “What have you done with them?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Sebastos replied nervously.
“You know exactly what I am talking about,” Eryalus growled. “Tell me or I will kill you where you stand.” He pulled a knife from somewhere inside his chiton.
Sebastos stumbled backwards.
“Whatever you are looking for, I do not have it,” he protested.
“Give me the jewels!” Eryalus retorted.
He rushed forwards with the knife raised.
As he did, the earth heaved again; a tremor striking the temple suddenly. The massive bronze bull began to rock dangerously. Jason looked around quickly. Pythagoras was out of range if the thing fell but Sebastos was not. He grabbed the young man around the waist and threw himself backwards, dragging Sebastos with him. They landed in a tangled heap on the floor. A split second later, the brazen bull fell. At the last possible moment, when it was far too late to move, Eryalus looked up and saw it falling towards him, face transforming in horror and terror.
The tremor continued for several long moments (although it felt much longer to the three young men at the centre of it). Here and there bits of masonry fell and they tried to cover their heads as best they could, hoping that nothing hit them.
When the quake finally stopped and the dust settled, Pythagoras and Sebastos started to push themselves up and to look around. Jason stayed where he was for a moment, still winded from the elbow Sebastos had inadvertently thrust into his stomach as they had fallen, before taking the young man’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Pythagoras moved over to where Eryalus was lying, half under the bull and poked him with one foot. When Eryalus did not move, he crouched down, careful to avoid the growing puddle of blood coming from under the man and rested his fingers against the side of the priest’s neck.
“He is dead,” he said. “He seems to have fallen on his own knife.”
“It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Jason replied sarcastically (if still a little breathlessly).
Pythagoras nodded and stood up.
“We must do this quickly before someone comes,” he said.
He looked up at the massive statue.
“Wish me luck,” he added.
Having got the other two to boost him up onto the plinth surrounding the statue, Pythagoras began the climb. It felt almost laboriously slow and yet he really couldn’t go any quicker; as it was there were a couple of places where he began to slip and heard one of his companions give a faint gasp from below. Finally, though, he was at the top. Now would come the tricky bit. How was he going to set the jewels in place without falling? Now he was up here it seemed impossible. If he didn’t hold onto the statue he would fall, and yet he could not set the gems in place with only one hand.
Pythagoras considered the problem for a moment, clinging onto the statue as best he could. He peered at the head behind the crown, an idea beginning to form. Slowly and carefully, he inched himself into place so that he was sitting astride the head. It felt precarious but was the best solution he could come up with. He offered a silent prayer to the Goddess; apologising in case she felt offended by him sitting there. Then he leant forward over the front and began the process of setting the jewels into place.
Eventually, the last jewel was set into the centre of Hera’s crown. Pythagoras began the slow process of climbing back down, slithering in places, but not daring to go any faster and risking a potentially disastrous fall. By the time he was back on the ground, he was distinctly out of breath and his legs felt decidedly wobbly. Still, he was glad he had been the one to make the climb; on any ordinary day he knew that Jason would have insisted on going himself, but, given his friend’s injury, Pythagoras suspected he would not have been able to make it - it had been far more strenuous than he had been expecting.
He turned to Sebastos.
“Thank you for helping us,” he said. “We could not even have touched those jewels without you.”
“I think I should be the one thanking you both for freeing me and saving my life,” Sebastos replied.
“You will not be saved until you are safely away from this place,” Pythagoras responded. “You must go before anyone comes.”
“Yes,” Sebastos agreed with a smile. “Thank you again… for everything.”
He embraced his two companions before turning and running towards the great door to the temple. In the doorway, he paused and raised a hand in farewell, before diving out into the bright evening beyond.
The door closed.
“Do you think it worked?” Jason asked Pythagoras. “Did the curse get broken?”
“I do not know,” Pythagoras answered, turning to face his friend. “I suspect we will find out when we try to leave.”
A commotion behind them made them both turn. The High Priest was picking his way through the debris of the earthquake flanked by several other priests, giving orders to clear up the temple. He stopped when he saw the brazen bull lying on its side.
“Ensure that the bull is set back in the pyre and that the craftsmen check it to make sure it is still working,” he rumbled.
“Eryalus!” One of the other priests exclaimed as he spotted the body of the other man.
He darted forwards and checked the still figure.
“He is dead,” he informed his companions.
The High Priest sighed. He seemed genuinely saddened.
“Take his body to the offering chamber,” he instructed. “We will bury our brother with all the proper observances at dawn. Tonight we must prepare for the execution of Sebastos.”
“Look!” A priest exclaimed urgently, grasping the High Priest’s arm and pointing up at the statue. “The jewels! They are in Hera’s crown!”
“It is a miracle,” the High Priest proclaimed. “The Goddess must have reclaimed them from wherever the defiler hid them. It is a sign of her favour. It shows that our course is correct. We will leave the boy in his cell until the time comes… then when the moon is at its height and the King is present, we will bring him forwards and execute him as the criminal he has proved to be.”
He looked at Eryalus’ body one more.
“Lay him out and prepare him for his journey to the underworld,” he said.
The scene began to fade around Jason and Pythagoras; the figures becoming hazy and indistinct. Another tremor hit, even more powerful than before; walls swaying and cracking; great chunks of stone beginning to reign down and huge cracks appearing in the floor as the paving was ripped up.
Pythagoras grabbed his friend’s arm.
“Run!” he shouted above the noise of the tremor.
They lurched across the floor and out into the sunlight beyond, stumbling down the steps of the stylobate and racing across the causeway as the temple disintegrated behind them. Half way along the causeway, Jason stumbled and fell. He half lay on the ground, staring in shock at the great cloud of dust that billowed out from where the temple had been, unable to force himself to get up and run any further. Pythagoras had stopped and turned when his friend had fallen. He stood there with his mouth open at the sight of the temple turning back into the ruin they had first entered.
Finally the dust settled. Pythagoras looked around.
“The fog is gone,” he remarked.
“Yeah,” Jason replied. “I guess we did manage to break the curse after all.”
Pythagoras swallowed hard and nodded, looking up to gauge the position of the sun.
“Indeed,” he said. “Now I think we should look for somewhere to camp for the night and set out for home in the morning.”
Jason grimaced and forced himself to stand. His leg was on fire and felt like it wouldn’t hold his weight, trembling horribly. He took a tentative step forwards and was unable to stop himself yelping.
Pythagoras frowned and ducked under his friend’s arm, dragging it across his shoulders and taking some of Jason’s weight.
“Come on,” he said softly. “You have been walking around with that injury for too long already. If I remember rightly, there was a clearing not far into the woods. We can set up camp there and I can treat your wound properly.”
They limped slowly to the far edge of the causeway. Pythagoras stopped and helped his friend lower himself onto a fallen log.
“Wait here for a moment,” he said. “I wish to refill the water skins. I suspect I may need clean water later.”
Jason nodded and let his head drop forwards. He was exhausted. Neither of them had slept all that much while they were in the temple and he knew from the dark circles under the mathematician’s eyes that Pythagoras wasn’t much better off than he was.
He must have dropped off to sleep for a moment or two because the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“You cannot sleep there,” Pythagoras said apologetically. “Come on. The sooner we get to the clearing, the sooner we can both rest properly.” He hesitated. “I must admit that I am looking forwards to going home and sleeping in my own bed.”
“Yeah,” Jason answered.
He pulled a face at the thought of moving but pushed himself to his feet nonetheless.
They made their way through the trees to the small clearing Pythagoras had remembered seeing. Once there, Jason sat down on the ground gratefully - he wasn’t sure how much longer he would have been able to stay on his feet; his leg was killing him. He leant back with his hands splayed behind him and looked up at the canopy, turning his face towards the warm sunlight.
“It’s good to see daylight again,” he said softly.
“Yes,” Pythagoras agreed. He sat down and looked around himself. “The fresh air is lovely and it is good to see something other than a dimly lit room.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying the feeling of being outdoors. Finally, Pythagoras shook himself.
“This is not helping anyone,” he said. “I believe I saw some comfrey growing down at the edge of the lake and yarrow and chamomile amongst the trees between here and there. As all three are useful for reducing inflammation and healing wounds, I will go and collect some.” He looked at Jason. “You wait here.”
Before Jason could reply, he had taken his satchel off his shoulder, stood up and headed off. Jason sat still for a few minutes longer, enjoying the evening sunshine, before he forced himself to stand, keeping as much weight off his bad leg as he could. He might not be able to help Pythagoras fetch the herbs he wanted, but the least he could do was to get the camp set up and a fire lit before the mathematician came back - he had enough experience in setting up camps by now that it should only be the work of a few minutes.
By the time Pythagoras came back through the trees, Jason had got a crackling fire going and had laid out the blankets, sitting down on his own one.
Pythagoras smiled in appreciation.
“Thank you,” he said simply. “Now let me see that wound.”
He frowned as he looked at the grubby bandage wrapped around his friend’s upper leg. It had been clean when he had applied it a couple of days ago (or at least that’s what it had felt like in the temple), but with their supplies being limited he hadn’t been able to change it as often as he would have liked. He unwound it carefully and dropped it to one side.
Under the bandage was a pad of cloth Pythagoras had used both the protect the stitched wound and to apply a poultice. He went to lift the pad away from Jason’s leg but paused, his frown deepening, as he realised it was stuck to the skin below.
“I think I may have to soak this off,” he remarked.
“Do whatever you need to,” Jason responded.
Pythagoras nodded tightly. He grabbed the small cooking pan they usually brought on journeys from his bag, filled it with water from a skin and slung it over the fire to boil. Then he fumbled in his pack again for a clean bandage and a piece of cloth. He dropped them into the pan of water.
Taking a second water skin, he slowly poured it onto the cloth pad that was stuck to his friend’s leg, loosening it as gently as he could with his fingers. When he was reasonably sure it would come away without too much pulling, he looked up at Jason.
“This last bit might sting a little,” he apologised.
Jason grunted and motioned for him to continue. He didn’t really trust himself to speak at the moment - this was already hurting a bit more than he would like to admit. He knew that Pythagoras would feel guilty if he knew and that was the last thing Jason wanted.
Without any more warning, Pythagoras carefully pulled the cloth free, trying to ignore the little hiss of pain he heard from his friend. The skin either side of the stitches was red, swollen and hot, and the stitches themselves looked inflamed. Pythagoras frowned deeply, biting his lip.
“This is not good,” he said softly. “The first signs of infection have set in.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Jason replied. “You’re a good healer. You’ll fix it.”
Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.
“Your faith in me is touching,” he said, “but out here in the forest with limited supplies there is not a great deal I can do.” He paused and peered at the wound again. “I will do what I can, of course. I will clean the wound and apply a fresh bandage… and the herbs I have picked will help, once I have mixed them into a poultice… but until we get home there is nothing else I can do.” He paused again. “Of course, once we are at home I should be able to treat you properly to clear up this infection quickly. It is not serious at present and should heal well with proper treatment.”
“Do what you can for now,” Jason answered.
Pythagoras nodded. He reached into his pack once more and grabbed his food bowl. Having checked it was clean, he poured some cold water into it and, using the tip of his knife, removed the bandage and the piece of cloth from the hot water and plunged them into the bowl of cold water. Then he turned back to Jason.
“Could I borrow your bowl please?” he asked politely.
Once he had the bowl, he crushed the herbs he had picked into a paste, mixing them with a little water. Then he grabbed the last clean piece of bandage he had in his pack and used it with the remaining water in the skin to thoroughly clean Jason’s leg. He slathered the thick poultice on top of the stitches and took the cloth and the bandage from the cold water, placing the cloth as a soft pad on top of the poultice and wrapping the whole thing in the clean bandage. Finally, he gathered up the dirty bandages and shoved them deep within his bag, planning on washing (or possibly burning) them when he got home. Then he sat back.
“Right,” he said. “Supper.”
“I didn’t think we had much left,” Jason replied.
“We do not,” Pythagoras agreed, “but, although I am not the sort of hunter Hercules reveres, I am competent enough at setting traps. I will go and set some now and refill the water skins once more. I am certain than in a short time we will have rabbit for supper… or at least for breakfast. There are berries in the bushes around here that I can pick too. Our lack of supplies is unimportant. Nature has provided a rich bounty for us.”
“I should help,” Jason began.
“I would rather you did not,” Pythagoras replied honestly. “You need to rest that leg if we are to even attempt to make it home tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Jason sighed.
“Good,” Pythagoras said. “I will be back shortly.”
He stood, grabbed a couple of things from his bag and hurried off out of the clearing, leaving Jason alone to enjoy the evening sunshine and dream of going home.
Hercules made his way along the mountain paths near to the ruined palace at Cynus cautiously. He had seen no evidence of any thieves or bandits on his journey so far but it would still pay him to be alert.
After leaving Atlantis, he had walked as far as he could towards Cynus and the valley beyond it that he was searching for before tiredness had overtaken him. After all, he had spent the night before guarding Idas’ workshop (the very thought of the deceitful merchant made him growl under his breath) and had only had a few hours of sleep in the morning after; fully expecting to catch up once the boys had delivered the rest of the cargo. Knowing that it would be unwise to continue to travel in the dark while he was so tired, he had rested for a while at the hunting lodge and seen evidence that someone (and he assumed it was his friends) had spent a night there recently.
Through the densely packed trees, he spotted a thin trail of smoke and smelled something cooking - something delicious if his nose didn’t deceive him. Hercules’ stomach rumbled at the smell and he was sharply reminded that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning when he had had a meagre breakfast at home before getting a few hours of sleep. The pie he had promised himself later in the day had never materialised once he had been distracted by Clytius’ warning.
He crept closer to the smell, telling himself that he would get a good look at whoever was camped there and then be on his way without the occupants ever knowing of his presence. The likelihood was that it was simply some other travellers and Hercules would be able to continue on his way without needing to disturb them.
He climbed a deceptively steep bank and peered down into the clearing below. What he saw there made him stop and stare.
Pythagoras was crouched near to a cooking fire, stirring something in a pot suspended from a makeshift tripod. Hercules suspected that if he was closer he would be able to hear the lad humming to himself. The presence of rumpled blankets behind him indicated that he hadn’t been up all that long. To one side, the burly wrestler could see Jason, still sleeping with his back to him.
Hercules began to scramble hurriedly down into the small clearing from the top of the bank, intent on reaching his friends and checking they were alright as quickly as possible. Pythagoras looked up at the noise, his thin face transforming into a happy beam as he spotted and recognised his older friend.
“Hercules!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? It is good to see you!”
As he spoke he pushed himself to his feet and rushed across the clearing to catch Hercules in a big hug.
“I thought the two of you might have got yourselves into trouble without me here to look out for you,” Hercules replied. He paused, looking guilty. “Actually, I found out that Idas hadn’t told me the complete truth,” he admitted. “So I came to find you.”
He glanced across at Jason, eyes narrowing as he spotted the bandage wrapped around his friend’s thigh.
“Is he hurt?” he asked.
“He will be fine,” Pythagoras replied. “He has injured his leg and there is a slight infection but with proper care it will heal.”
Hercules’ eyes narrowed even further as he turned back to Pythagoras and spotted the dark bruises and livid gashes marring the thin throat. He reached out one meaty hand and gently pulled the neck of his friend’s tunic down at the back so that he could see how far the marks extended, cursing himself for not noticing them immediately. He had been so happy to see Pythagoras that he hadn’t even checked whether the young man was hurt.
“What about you?” he rumbled. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I am also not badly harmed,” Pythagoras replied. “Really it is nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Hercules growled, gently running his fingers over his friend’s swollen cheek. “It looks like someone beat you to Hades and back.”
“I have had far worse,” Pythagoras countered, pulling away.
Hercules was unpleasantly reminded of the revelations that there had been about the boy’s father just a few short months ago. He opened his mouth to say something else but before he could he was interrupted.
“Hercules!”
Jason sounded as pleased to see him as Pythagoras had been. Hercules turned around to see his dark haired friend rubbing sleep out of his eyes and carefully standing up, clearly testing to see whether his injured leg would hold before trusting his entire weight to it. He limped across the clearing to join the other two, smiling.
“You couldn’t stay out of trouble could you?” Hercules grumbled good-naturedly. “I turn my back for a little while and look at the two of you!”
The two younger men looked at each other with amusement before turning back to face the burly wrestler.
“I hardly think that this can be classed as our fault,” Pythagoras sniffed, although his eyes sparkled brightly even as he said it.
“You were the one that took this job after all,” Jason added. “And Pythagoras was right in the first place - it wasn’t simple and it wasn’t straightforward.”
Hercules deflated.
“I know,” he admitted. “It seems that Idas wasn’t entirely honest with me when he hired me. Those jewels he sent you to fetch weren’t his in the first place.”
“So we gathered,” Jason replied. “And it turns out Hera doesn’t much like people who take her things.”
Hercules winced.
“I swear I didn’t know,” he said.
“I never thought you did,” Pythagoras assured him. “You would never do anything to deliberately harm either one of us.” He smiled. “Since you are here now, perhaps we should have breakfast?”
Hercules’ face lit up and he rubbed his hands together gleefully.
Once they had all eaten, Pythagoras sat watching the fire pensively. He sighed.
“It seems a shame that we will not be paid for this journey,” he said. “After all we have been through in the past few days, it seems a little unfair.”
Hercules grinned.
“Who says we haven’t been?” he replied.
“What do you mean?” Jason asked, frowning in confusion.
“Let’s just say that I didn’t take to kindly to Idas lying to us like that,” the burly wrestler answered. “I went to see him to find out a bit more about precisely where you were heading, and I didn’t like the answers he gave all that much. He tried to refuse to pay me, but it seems he doesn’t like being dangled headfirst off a balcony any more than you do.” He looked at Pythagoras as he spoke.
Pythagoras blinked in surprise.
“You got the money out of him?” he asked.
“Every last coin,” Hercules gloated, patting a pouch at his waist.
He pushed himself to his feet, slung his bag across his shoulder and held out an arm to Jason, ready to help his young friend on the journey home.
“Come on,” he said. “I’m not having you collapse on the way home because you’ve been walking on that leg too much.”
Jason rolled his eyes but accepted the help gratefully. If he was honest he hadn’t been entirely sure that he would make it all the way home without help; his leg hurt more than he would really like to admit.
“You didn’t actually tell me what happened to the two of you,” Hercules remarked, as Pythagoras tidied up the last remains of their small camp.
“I am not sure you would believe us if we told you,” Pythagoras replied.
“Try me,” Hercules rumbled as they began to trudge back towards the mountain path and home. “And even if I don’t… well you know how much I like a good story. You can tell me all about it as we go home.”
Author: Yassandra
Fandom: Atlantis
Pairing/characters: Jason, Pythagoras & Hercules
Rating: G
Warnings: N/A
Disclaimer: Not mine. BBC and Urban Myth Films own them.
Word count: 27136 (This chapter (both parts) - 10578)
Summary: When Hercules manages to find a job that will take Jason and Pythagoras out of Atlantis for a few days, it seems relatively simple and straightforward. Unfortunately, things rarely go to plan where these three are concerned. Alone and cut off, Jason & Pythagoras can only rely on each other to survive while Hercules sets off to find and rescue his friends.
A/N: Written for Round 7 of the Small Fandom Big Bang, and also for Hurt/Comfort Bingo for the 'Stranded/Survival Scenario' prompt.
Please go and check out the lovely artwork by MistressKat and give the artist some appreciation too :-)The art is integrated into the story.
Chapter 3 - Running Out of Time (Part 2)
“Looks like the coast is clear,” Jason said, pulling back round the pillar to face his two companions. “Come on.”
He limped out into the main body of the temple, not bothering to turn around to see if his companions were following him; he knew that Pythagoras, at least, would be there. At the base of the pillar where Eryalus had hidden the box, he stopped and peered at the floor.
“This is where the jewels were hidden?” Sebastos asked.
“Yes,” Pythagoras replied.
“Are you sure?” Sebastos said, frowning. “The floor is made stone. How did Eryalus manage to hide them here?”
Jason rolled his eyes.
“He levered up one of the flags, dug a shallow pit and then dropped the stone back into place,” he said patiently. “The men working on the statue had left a pile of tools at the base and he used those. It only took a few minutes really… if you’d been here just a few moments earlier, you would have caught him in the act.”
He looked around.
“We’ll need to find some tools ourselves,” he added.
“There is a room where the craftsmen store their tools,” Sebastos replied. He ventured a weak smile. “I have acted as a messenger between the palace and the temple for many years now. I was a child when I was first given the role. One of the advantages is that there are few places in either building that I do not know.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Pythagoras asked.
They hurried off towards the storeroom that Sebastos was pointing out; a little room hidden behind the great statue of Athena. Both Pythagoras and Jason had been in it in their exploration of the temple but there hadn’t been any tools in there then (and it wouldn’t have helped them if there had been - given that they would not have been able to touch the things let alone use them); they could only hope that Sebastos knew what he was talking about now.
At first, Jason tried to keep up with the other two but after a moment he stopped. His leg was really hurting and he had the feeling that he really shouldn’t walk any further than was absolutely necessary on it. It was, perhaps, a better idea to rest it as much as possible now so that he would be able to run if he needed to later. As it was, it didn’t really need all three of them to go to fetch tools, so he leant against a pillar and waited for the other two to come back.
It was only a matter of a few minutes before Pythagoras and Sebastos returned, a short-handled spade (which could be used both to pry up the flagstone and dig up the casket) clutched in Sebastos' hand. He ran over to the pillar where the jewels were hidden and immediately set about prising up the paving. The slab came easily enough; evidence, perhaps, that the stones had not yet bedded into place properly.
Sebastos offered the other two a nervous look and set about uncovering the small casket.
“That was easier than I expected,” he muttered.
As he spoke, the earth heaved; a tremor that made the entire temple quake.
“I am afraid we may not have much time,” Pythagoras said, clinging onto a pillar to try to stay on his feet. “The Gods are angry.”
Over his shoulder, he heard Jason muttering something about natural occurrences and plates rubbing together, but (like so many of Jason’s odd ideas or comments) he chose to ignore it. Honestly, sometimes he worried about the state of his friend’s mind (and sense of timing).
Sebastos nodded tightly and moved a little faster. In just a moment or two, he had lifted the small box out of its hiding place.
“So much trouble about such a small thing,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Pythagoras agreed. “Now we just have to place the jewels in Hera’s crown.”
“And how exactly are we going to do that? Sebastos asked. “I did not like to ask before, but the crown is already in place on the statue. I am not a craftsman. I would not have the first idea of how to attach the things… besides which, the statue is exceptionally large and I do not have a head for heights.”
“You are afraid of heights?” Pythagoras clarified.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Sebastos replied. “I’m afraid that if I attempted to climb up there I would grow dizzy and sick and be no use to anyone.”
Pythagoras pulled a face.
“Then we may be in trouble,” he answered.
Jason looked at the box in Sebastos’ hands and then up at the statue thoughtfully.
“I might have an idea,” he said. “I just need to try something first.”
“What?” Pythagoras asked suspiciously. He knew from experience that Jason’s ideas could sometimes be more than a little risky.
Jason ignored him.
“Put the casket down on the ground,” he instructed Sebastos.
Once the young man had done as he had asked, Jason reached down as if he was going to pick it up. His fingers passed right through it (which was definitely a weird sensation).
“And what did that tell you?” Pythagoras asked sharply. “We already know that we can touch nothing.”
“That isn’t strictly true though, is it?” Jason challenged him. “We can open doors… and we moved that bench to free him easily enough.” He gestured at Sebastos.
“That is true,” Pythagoras murmured thoughtfully.
Jason turned his head to look at Sebastos.
“Pick the box up and try to hand it to me,” he said.
“Surely the same thing will happen as when you tried to pick it up from the floor?” Sebastos said.
“Humour me,” Jason replied with an encouraging smile.
Sebastos rolled his eyes but did as he was asked.
Jason looked at the box once more.
“Alright then,” he murmured. “Let’s try this.”
He reached out to take the jewels from Sebastos; his fingers closing firmly around the box and lifting it clear easily. He puffed out a heavy breath.
“I wasn’t sure that would work,” he admitted.
“So Sebastos can hand us things,” Pythagoras said softly.
“Yeah,” Jason answered. “Since he was the only one who could see and talk to us, I thought that maybe he was some sort of link between our time and his.”
“So while we cannot generally touch items from his time because they do not actually exist in ours…” Pythagoras began.
“He can sort of bring things from out of his time into ours,” Jason finished. “I know it doesn’t really make sense, but we haven’t actually known the rules at any point anyway, so I thought it was worth a try.”
“It seems that the Goddess really does want us to put matters right,” Pythagoras remarked. “Otherwise I very much doubt that would have worked.”
“At least it means that one of us can climb up there instead of him,” Jason said. “I don’t have a problem with heights so…”
Pythagoras sighed in exasperation and glared at his friend.
“You also have an injured leg,” he pointed out. “I do not think you should even be attempting to climb the statue.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jason protested.
“I don’t care if you think you will be or not,” Pythagoras said firmly. “I am not going to allow you to do this thing. Give the jewels to me. If someone must climb up there, I will be the one to do it.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Jason protested.
“I would imagine it would be more dangerous for you than for me at this present moment,” Pythagoras retorted sharply. “I have two working arms and two working legs. You are struggling to keep up whenever we need to walk anywhere… and don’t think I didn’t notice you leaning on that pillar for support when Sebastos and I came back from fetching the tools. Besides,” he added, “do you have even the faintest idea of how to attach these jewels into Hera’s crown?”
“I’d have worked it out,” Jason muttered. “And I doubt you have much more idea how to do it than me.”
“Ah but you see that is where you are wrong,” Pythagoras replied. “When I was growing up on Samos, my mother’s family were craftsmen. They lived at the opposite side of the island to them and we visited infrequently, but I still grew up watching them working in their workshop. I may not have chosen to follow the path of a craftsman myself but I still understand the principles.”
He moved out into the centre of the chamber, gesturing for the other two to follow him.
“Do you see the gaps in the crown where the jewels are meant to be set?” he asked, pointing up at the thing.
“Yes,” Jason replied begrudgingly.
“Surrounding those gaps are small prongs,” Pythagoras stated. “Once the jewels are set where they should be, the craftsman would bend those prongs over to hold them in place permanently… Of course, that would usually happen at a work bench on the ground and not up in the air,” he added. “I cannot imagine what the craftsmen here must have been thinking to crown the statue before the jewels were set into it. It would have made their job ten times harder.”
He looked significantly at Jason.
“So now that we have ascertained that I know what I am doing, will you trust me to do this thing?” he asked softly.
Jason sighed ruefully and pulled a face.
“I don’t like it,” he admitted, “but you probably are the best person to be doing this at the moment.”
Pythagoras smiled and held out his hand. Jason handed him the box and the young mathematician opened it, revealing the gems that were nestled inside.
“It will be easier to carry them without the box,” he remarked, taking the jewels out and discarding the casket.
He twisted up the hem of his tunic and tied it into a knot, tucking the knot into his belt to make a small but secure pouch. He dropped the gems inside.
“I will need a tool to bend those prongs into place,” he murmured.
“I think I saw something that will work in the storeroom,” Sebastos said, keen to help. “I will go and get it.”
He hurried off before either of the others could say anything.
“Do you really believe that what we are doing might actually change what happened in the past?” Pythagoras asked conversationally.
Jason shrugged.
“Who knows?” he said. “I’ve never been in this precise sort of situation before.”
“No,” Pythagoras agreed. “It is a little beyond my experience too.” He looked towards the back of the chamber where Sebastos had disappeared behind the statue. “I like Sebastos,” he admitted. “I hope that what we are doing does change the past and that he survives.”
“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “Me too.”
Before either of them could say any more, Sebastos darted out from behind the statue and trotted over to them, brandishing a pair of pliers.
“Those should work,” Pythagoras said, taking them from the young man. “Thank you.”
He hesitated for a moment.
“I think you should leave as soon as I have the jewels in Hera’s crown,” he advised softly.
“Why?” Sebastos asked. “The palace and the temple are the only home I have ever known. Surely once the gems are in place, everything will be able to return to normal?”
“Even if the jewels are returned, there is no proof that you did not steal them in the first place,” Pythagoras said seriously. “And there is also the matter of the priest you are accused of attacking… I fear that they will not let you go even if the jewels are placed into Hera’s crown. They believe you to be guilty and I suspect your execution will continue regardless.”
Sebastos visibly deflated.
“So I will still lose everything,” he murmured.
“You’ll be alive,” Jason replied bluntly but not unkindly. “And that has to be better than the alternative.”
He looked significantly at the brazen bull.
“You are right,” Sebastos sighed. “Of course you are… It is just… where will I go? I know nowhere other than here.”
“If you will take my advice, you will run as fast and as far away from here as you can,” Pythagoras answered. “You should get enough of a head start before they discover you are not in the cell to allow you to evade any pursuers completely.”
“I will take your advice,” Sebastos said. “Starting again somewhere new will not be easy… but I would rather that than face my end in the bull.”
“How did you get here?” Eryalus’ voice rang out across the chamber. “How did you escape?”
He strode towards Sebastos, still apparently unaware of Jason and Pythagoras’ presence; still unable to see or hear them. As he moved nearer to the centre of the chamber, the lifted flagstone and small pile of earth from where Sebastos had dug up the casket caught his eye and he turned his head to look fully, eyes growing wide as he spotted the discarded jewel box.
“Where are they?” he hissed turning back towards Sebastos and striding forwards; bearing down on the young man. “What have you done with them?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Sebastos replied nervously.
“You know exactly what I am talking about,” Eryalus growled. “Tell me or I will kill you where you stand.” He pulled a knife from somewhere inside his chiton.
Sebastos stumbled backwards.
“Whatever you are looking for, I do not have it,” he protested.
“Give me the jewels!” Eryalus retorted.
He rushed forwards with the knife raised.
As he did, the earth heaved again; a tremor striking the temple suddenly. The massive bronze bull began to rock dangerously. Jason looked around quickly. Pythagoras was out of range if the thing fell but Sebastos was not. He grabbed the young man around the waist and threw himself backwards, dragging Sebastos with him. They landed in a tangled heap on the floor. A split second later, the brazen bull fell. At the last possible moment, when it was far too late to move, Eryalus looked up and saw it falling towards him, face transforming in horror and terror.
The tremor continued for several long moments (although it felt much longer to the three young men at the centre of it). Here and there bits of masonry fell and they tried to cover their heads as best they could, hoping that nothing hit them.
When the quake finally stopped and the dust settled, Pythagoras and Sebastos started to push themselves up and to look around. Jason stayed where he was for a moment, still winded from the elbow Sebastos had inadvertently thrust into his stomach as they had fallen, before taking the young man’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Pythagoras moved over to where Eryalus was lying, half under the bull and poked him with one foot. When Eryalus did not move, he crouched down, careful to avoid the growing puddle of blood coming from under the man and rested his fingers against the side of the priest’s neck.
“He is dead,” he said. “He seems to have fallen on his own knife.”
“It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Jason replied sarcastically (if still a little breathlessly).
Pythagoras nodded and stood up.
“We must do this quickly before someone comes,” he said.
He looked up at the massive statue.
“Wish me luck,” he added.
Having got the other two to boost him up onto the plinth surrounding the statue, Pythagoras began the climb. It felt almost laboriously slow and yet he really couldn’t go any quicker; as it was there were a couple of places where he began to slip and heard one of his companions give a faint gasp from below. Finally, though, he was at the top. Now would come the tricky bit. How was he going to set the jewels in place without falling? Now he was up here it seemed impossible. If he didn’t hold onto the statue he would fall, and yet he could not set the gems in place with only one hand.
Pythagoras considered the problem for a moment, clinging onto the statue as best he could. He peered at the head behind the crown, an idea beginning to form. Slowly and carefully, he inched himself into place so that he was sitting astride the head. It felt precarious but was the best solution he could come up with. He offered a silent prayer to the Goddess; apologising in case she felt offended by him sitting there. Then he leant forward over the front and began the process of setting the jewels into place.
Eventually, the last jewel was set into the centre of Hera’s crown. Pythagoras began the slow process of climbing back down, slithering in places, but not daring to go any faster and risking a potentially disastrous fall. By the time he was back on the ground, he was distinctly out of breath and his legs felt decidedly wobbly. Still, he was glad he had been the one to make the climb; on any ordinary day he knew that Jason would have insisted on going himself, but, given his friend’s injury, Pythagoras suspected he would not have been able to make it - it had been far more strenuous than he had been expecting.
He turned to Sebastos.
“Thank you for helping us,” he said. “We could not even have touched those jewels without you.”
“I think I should be the one thanking you both for freeing me and saving my life,” Sebastos replied.
“You will not be saved until you are safely away from this place,” Pythagoras responded. “You must go before anyone comes.”
“Yes,” Sebastos agreed with a smile. “Thank you again… for everything.”
He embraced his two companions before turning and running towards the great door to the temple. In the doorway, he paused and raised a hand in farewell, before diving out into the bright evening beyond.
The door closed.
“Do you think it worked?” Jason asked Pythagoras. “Did the curse get broken?”
“I do not know,” Pythagoras answered, turning to face his friend. “I suspect we will find out when we try to leave.”
A commotion behind them made them both turn. The High Priest was picking his way through the debris of the earthquake flanked by several other priests, giving orders to clear up the temple. He stopped when he saw the brazen bull lying on its side.
“Ensure that the bull is set back in the pyre and that the craftsmen check it to make sure it is still working,” he rumbled.
“Eryalus!” One of the other priests exclaimed as he spotted the body of the other man.
He darted forwards and checked the still figure.
“He is dead,” he informed his companions.
The High Priest sighed. He seemed genuinely saddened.
“Take his body to the offering chamber,” he instructed. “We will bury our brother with all the proper observances at dawn. Tonight we must prepare for the execution of Sebastos.”
“Look!” A priest exclaimed urgently, grasping the High Priest’s arm and pointing up at the statue. “The jewels! They are in Hera’s crown!”
“It is a miracle,” the High Priest proclaimed. “The Goddess must have reclaimed them from wherever the defiler hid them. It is a sign of her favour. It shows that our course is correct. We will leave the boy in his cell until the time comes… then when the moon is at its height and the King is present, we will bring him forwards and execute him as the criminal he has proved to be.”
He looked at Eryalus’ body one more.
“Lay him out and prepare him for his journey to the underworld,” he said.
The scene began to fade around Jason and Pythagoras; the figures becoming hazy and indistinct. Another tremor hit, even more powerful than before; walls swaying and cracking; great chunks of stone beginning to reign down and huge cracks appearing in the floor as the paving was ripped up.
Pythagoras grabbed his friend’s arm.
“Run!” he shouted above the noise of the tremor.
They lurched across the floor and out into the sunlight beyond, stumbling down the steps of the stylobate and racing across the causeway as the temple disintegrated behind them. Half way along the causeway, Jason stumbled and fell. He half lay on the ground, staring in shock at the great cloud of dust that billowed out from where the temple had been, unable to force himself to get up and run any further. Pythagoras had stopped and turned when his friend had fallen. He stood there with his mouth open at the sight of the temple turning back into the ruin they had first entered.
Finally the dust settled. Pythagoras looked around.
“The fog is gone,” he remarked.
“Yeah,” Jason replied. “I guess we did manage to break the curse after all.”
Pythagoras swallowed hard and nodded, looking up to gauge the position of the sun.
“Indeed,” he said. “Now I think we should look for somewhere to camp for the night and set out for home in the morning.”
Jason grimaced and forced himself to stand. His leg was on fire and felt like it wouldn’t hold his weight, trembling horribly. He took a tentative step forwards and was unable to stop himself yelping.
Pythagoras frowned and ducked under his friend’s arm, dragging it across his shoulders and taking some of Jason’s weight.
“Come on,” he said softly. “You have been walking around with that injury for too long already. If I remember rightly, there was a clearing not far into the woods. We can set up camp there and I can treat your wound properly.”
They limped slowly to the far edge of the causeway. Pythagoras stopped and helped his friend lower himself onto a fallen log.
“Wait here for a moment,” he said. “I wish to refill the water skins. I suspect I may need clean water later.”
Jason nodded and let his head drop forwards. He was exhausted. Neither of them had slept all that much while they were in the temple and he knew from the dark circles under the mathematician’s eyes that Pythagoras wasn’t much better off than he was.
He must have dropped off to sleep for a moment or two because the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“You cannot sleep there,” Pythagoras said apologetically. “Come on. The sooner we get to the clearing, the sooner we can both rest properly.” He hesitated. “I must admit that I am looking forwards to going home and sleeping in my own bed.”
“Yeah,” Jason answered.
He pulled a face at the thought of moving but pushed himself to his feet nonetheless.
They made their way through the trees to the small clearing Pythagoras had remembered seeing. Once there, Jason sat down on the ground gratefully - he wasn’t sure how much longer he would have been able to stay on his feet; his leg was killing him. He leant back with his hands splayed behind him and looked up at the canopy, turning his face towards the warm sunlight.
“It’s good to see daylight again,” he said softly.
“Yes,” Pythagoras agreed. He sat down and looked around himself. “The fresh air is lovely and it is good to see something other than a dimly lit room.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying the feeling of being outdoors. Finally, Pythagoras shook himself.
“This is not helping anyone,” he said. “I believe I saw some comfrey growing down at the edge of the lake and yarrow and chamomile amongst the trees between here and there. As all three are useful for reducing inflammation and healing wounds, I will go and collect some.” He looked at Jason. “You wait here.”
Before Jason could reply, he had taken his satchel off his shoulder, stood up and headed off. Jason sat still for a few minutes longer, enjoying the evening sunshine, before he forced himself to stand, keeping as much weight off his bad leg as he could. He might not be able to help Pythagoras fetch the herbs he wanted, but the least he could do was to get the camp set up and a fire lit before the mathematician came back - he had enough experience in setting up camps by now that it should only be the work of a few minutes.
By the time Pythagoras came back through the trees, Jason had got a crackling fire going and had laid out the blankets, sitting down on his own one.
Pythagoras smiled in appreciation.
“Thank you,” he said simply. “Now let me see that wound.”
He frowned as he looked at the grubby bandage wrapped around his friend’s upper leg. It had been clean when he had applied it a couple of days ago (or at least that’s what it had felt like in the temple), but with their supplies being limited he hadn’t been able to change it as often as he would have liked. He unwound it carefully and dropped it to one side.
Under the bandage was a pad of cloth Pythagoras had used both the protect the stitched wound and to apply a poultice. He went to lift the pad away from Jason’s leg but paused, his frown deepening, as he realised it was stuck to the skin below.
“I think I may have to soak this off,” he remarked.
“Do whatever you need to,” Jason responded.
Pythagoras nodded tightly. He grabbed the small cooking pan they usually brought on journeys from his bag, filled it with water from a skin and slung it over the fire to boil. Then he fumbled in his pack again for a clean bandage and a piece of cloth. He dropped them into the pan of water.
Taking a second water skin, he slowly poured it onto the cloth pad that was stuck to his friend’s leg, loosening it as gently as he could with his fingers. When he was reasonably sure it would come away without too much pulling, he looked up at Jason.
“This last bit might sting a little,” he apologised.
Jason grunted and motioned for him to continue. He didn’t really trust himself to speak at the moment - this was already hurting a bit more than he would like to admit. He knew that Pythagoras would feel guilty if he knew and that was the last thing Jason wanted.
Without any more warning, Pythagoras carefully pulled the cloth free, trying to ignore the little hiss of pain he heard from his friend. The skin either side of the stitches was red, swollen and hot, and the stitches themselves looked inflamed. Pythagoras frowned deeply, biting his lip.
“This is not good,” he said softly. “The first signs of infection have set in.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Jason replied. “You’re a good healer. You’ll fix it.”
Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.
“Your faith in me is touching,” he said, “but out here in the forest with limited supplies there is not a great deal I can do.” He paused and peered at the wound again. “I will do what I can, of course. I will clean the wound and apply a fresh bandage… and the herbs I have picked will help, once I have mixed them into a poultice… but until we get home there is nothing else I can do.” He paused again. “Of course, once we are at home I should be able to treat you properly to clear up this infection quickly. It is not serious at present and should heal well with proper treatment.”
“Do what you can for now,” Jason answered.
Pythagoras nodded. He reached into his pack once more and grabbed his food bowl. Having checked it was clean, he poured some cold water into it and, using the tip of his knife, removed the bandage and the piece of cloth from the hot water and plunged them into the bowl of cold water. Then he turned back to Jason.
“Could I borrow your bowl please?” he asked politely.
Once he had the bowl, he crushed the herbs he had picked into a paste, mixing them with a little water. Then he grabbed the last clean piece of bandage he had in his pack and used it with the remaining water in the skin to thoroughly clean Jason’s leg. He slathered the thick poultice on top of the stitches and took the cloth and the bandage from the cold water, placing the cloth as a soft pad on top of the poultice and wrapping the whole thing in the clean bandage. Finally, he gathered up the dirty bandages and shoved them deep within his bag, planning on washing (or possibly burning) them when he got home. Then he sat back.
“Right,” he said. “Supper.”
“I didn’t think we had much left,” Jason replied.
“We do not,” Pythagoras agreed, “but, although I am not the sort of hunter Hercules reveres, I am competent enough at setting traps. I will go and set some now and refill the water skins once more. I am certain than in a short time we will have rabbit for supper… or at least for breakfast. There are berries in the bushes around here that I can pick too. Our lack of supplies is unimportant. Nature has provided a rich bounty for us.”
“I should help,” Jason began.
“I would rather you did not,” Pythagoras replied honestly. “You need to rest that leg if we are to even attempt to make it home tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Jason sighed.
“Good,” Pythagoras said. “I will be back shortly.”
He stood, grabbed a couple of things from his bag and hurried off out of the clearing, leaving Jason alone to enjoy the evening sunshine and dream of going home.
Hercules made his way along the mountain paths near to the ruined palace at Cynus cautiously. He had seen no evidence of any thieves or bandits on his journey so far but it would still pay him to be alert.
After leaving Atlantis, he had walked as far as he could towards Cynus and the valley beyond it that he was searching for before tiredness had overtaken him. After all, he had spent the night before guarding Idas’ workshop (the very thought of the deceitful merchant made him growl under his breath) and had only had a few hours of sleep in the morning after; fully expecting to catch up once the boys had delivered the rest of the cargo. Knowing that it would be unwise to continue to travel in the dark while he was so tired, he had rested for a while at the hunting lodge and seen evidence that someone (and he assumed it was his friends) had spent a night there recently.
Through the densely packed trees, he spotted a thin trail of smoke and smelled something cooking - something delicious if his nose didn’t deceive him. Hercules’ stomach rumbled at the smell and he was sharply reminded that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning when he had had a meagre breakfast at home before getting a few hours of sleep. The pie he had promised himself later in the day had never materialised once he had been distracted by Clytius’ warning.
He crept closer to the smell, telling himself that he would get a good look at whoever was camped there and then be on his way without the occupants ever knowing of his presence. The likelihood was that it was simply some other travellers and Hercules would be able to continue on his way without needing to disturb them.
He climbed a deceptively steep bank and peered down into the clearing below. What he saw there made him stop and stare.
Pythagoras was crouched near to a cooking fire, stirring something in a pot suspended from a makeshift tripod. Hercules suspected that if he was closer he would be able to hear the lad humming to himself. The presence of rumpled blankets behind him indicated that he hadn’t been up all that long. To one side, the burly wrestler could see Jason, still sleeping with his back to him.
Hercules began to scramble hurriedly down into the small clearing from the top of the bank, intent on reaching his friends and checking they were alright as quickly as possible. Pythagoras looked up at the noise, his thin face transforming into a happy beam as he spotted and recognised his older friend.
“Hercules!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? It is good to see you!”
As he spoke he pushed himself to his feet and rushed across the clearing to catch Hercules in a big hug.
“I thought the two of you might have got yourselves into trouble without me here to look out for you,” Hercules replied. He paused, looking guilty. “Actually, I found out that Idas hadn’t told me the complete truth,” he admitted. “So I came to find you.”
He glanced across at Jason, eyes narrowing as he spotted the bandage wrapped around his friend’s thigh.
“Is he hurt?” he asked.
“He will be fine,” Pythagoras replied. “He has injured his leg and there is a slight infection but with proper care it will heal.”
Hercules’ eyes narrowed even further as he turned back to Pythagoras and spotted the dark bruises and livid gashes marring the thin throat. He reached out one meaty hand and gently pulled the neck of his friend’s tunic down at the back so that he could see how far the marks extended, cursing himself for not noticing them immediately. He had been so happy to see Pythagoras that he hadn’t even checked whether the young man was hurt.
“What about you?” he rumbled. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I am also not badly harmed,” Pythagoras replied. “Really it is nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Hercules growled, gently running his fingers over his friend’s swollen cheek. “It looks like someone beat you to Hades and back.”
“I have had far worse,” Pythagoras countered, pulling away.
Hercules was unpleasantly reminded of the revelations that there had been about the boy’s father just a few short months ago. He opened his mouth to say something else but before he could he was interrupted.
“Hercules!”
Jason sounded as pleased to see him as Pythagoras had been. Hercules turned around to see his dark haired friend rubbing sleep out of his eyes and carefully standing up, clearly testing to see whether his injured leg would hold before trusting his entire weight to it. He limped across the clearing to join the other two, smiling.
“You couldn’t stay out of trouble could you?” Hercules grumbled good-naturedly. “I turn my back for a little while and look at the two of you!”
The two younger men looked at each other with amusement before turning back to face the burly wrestler.
“I hardly think that this can be classed as our fault,” Pythagoras sniffed, although his eyes sparkled brightly even as he said it.
“You were the one that took this job after all,” Jason added. “And Pythagoras was right in the first place - it wasn’t simple and it wasn’t straightforward.”
Hercules deflated.
“I know,” he admitted. “It seems that Idas wasn’t entirely honest with me when he hired me. Those jewels he sent you to fetch weren’t his in the first place.”
“So we gathered,” Jason replied. “And it turns out Hera doesn’t much like people who take her things.”
Hercules winced.
“I swear I didn’t know,” he said.
“I never thought you did,” Pythagoras assured him. “You would never do anything to deliberately harm either one of us.” He smiled. “Since you are here now, perhaps we should have breakfast?”
Hercules’ face lit up and he rubbed his hands together gleefully.
Once they had all eaten, Pythagoras sat watching the fire pensively. He sighed.
“It seems a shame that we will not be paid for this journey,” he said. “After all we have been through in the past few days, it seems a little unfair.”
Hercules grinned.
“Who says we haven’t been?” he replied.
“What do you mean?” Jason asked, frowning in confusion.
“Let’s just say that I didn’t take to kindly to Idas lying to us like that,” the burly wrestler answered. “I went to see him to find out a bit more about precisely where you were heading, and I didn’t like the answers he gave all that much. He tried to refuse to pay me, but it seems he doesn’t like being dangled headfirst off a balcony any more than you do.” He looked at Pythagoras as he spoke.
Pythagoras blinked in surprise.
“You got the money out of him?” he asked.
“Every last coin,” Hercules gloated, patting a pouch at his waist.
He pushed himself to his feet, slung his bag across his shoulder and held out an arm to Jason, ready to help his young friend on the journey home.
“Come on,” he said. “I’m not having you collapse on the way home because you’ve been walking on that leg too much.”
Jason rolled his eyes but accepted the help gratefully. If he was honest he hadn’t been entirely sure that he would make it all the way home without help; his leg hurt more than he would really like to admit.
“You didn’t actually tell me what happened to the two of you,” Hercules remarked, as Pythagoras tidied up the last remains of their small camp.
“I am not sure you would believe us if we told you,” Pythagoras replied.
“Try me,” Hercules rumbled as they began to trudge back towards the mountain path and home. “And even if I don’t… well you know how much I like a good story. You can tell me all about it as we go home.”