The Last Caravan Leaves At Dawn
By Allie

"Nice place, if you like sand."

Hercules cocked an eyebrow. "You love sand."

"Yeah, sure, at the beach. Surrounded by water. With picnics, pretty girls, swimming, fishing."

"Well, fishing and swimming's out." Hercules grinned down at his partner. "But we could get up a picnic later and there must be some pretty girls around here."

"How can you tell? They're all covered up." Iolaus eyed a woman who seemed quite young standing at the edge of the street watching them as they passed. All he could see of her was a pair of dark eyes, but they watched him with lively curiosity. He offered her his most dazzling smile and could swear that she blushed and giggled before scampering away.

"I believe it's the custom here, Iolaus. Outside of their homes, women are expected to be covered and their faces veiled."

"Huh, now why do you think they made up a rule like that?"

Hercules snorted. "Too many guys like you around, probably."

"Oh, ha, ha." Iolaus looked around. The streets were rapidly filling with people all heading in the same direction, toward the square in the center of the city. It was market day in Alkazar. More than one of the pedestrians spared a long look at the two strangers. "Have you noticed, Herc? We seem to be attracting a lot of attention."

"I see that. Must be our funny clothes."

"Our funny clothes! Look at them, wearing those heavy jella...jelly...jellyby things in the hottest place in the world."

"Jalabiyya. And we wore them on our trip out here. I don't know about you, but I found them quite comfortable. But I think they're staring at you. It 's your hair."

"My hair." Iolaus ran his fingers through his golden curls. "What's the matter with my hair?"

"Well, you don't see anybody else with yellow hair, do you?"

"Heck, I don't see any hair at all except for beards."

"And they're all dark."

"Yeah, but..."

"Iolaus," Hercules laughed. "Some of these people have never even seen a blonde in their whole lives."

"Oh." Pleased that he was something of a novelty and therefore, for the moment, the center of attention, Iolaus smiled and waved at some of the passersby. Some of the men smiled back at him, but the women averted their heads, pretending that they hadn't been looking, although Iolaus could see more than one peeking out at him from behind their veils.

He sighed wistfully. "There were so many pretty girls back in Cyrene that I hadn't even met yet before you dragged me out here, and they're not all covered up either, and there's sea breezes and shady patios and lots and lots of good food and lemonade stands. And fishing."

"We'll be back in Cyrene by the end of the week just in time for the chariot races, and then we have a whole week before our ship sails. Plenty of time to meet a lot of girls, and lay around on those patios stuffing yourself. And fishing."

"But I'm starving now."

"The prince has invited us to lunch."

"Herc, they eat dung beetles and goat heads here, and the god's only know what else."

Hercules ignored this and went on. "And you wouldn't be having this nice vacation in Cyrene if Iph hadn't financed it with the condition that we come out here to finalize his trade agreement with the prince. He paid our passage so we wouldn't have to work our way across. The last time we did that you fell out of the rigging and nearly hung yourself."

"That was not my fault. The ship lurched."

"Ships tend to do that. And he paid our passage on the caravan out here,"

"Six days on a camel. The fun never stops."

"And he gave us each money to spend."

"Which we still have, because in Cyrene, you're Hercules, the home-country hero, and everybody wants to give us, excuse me, I mean you, stuff for free."

Hercules grinned, "Celebrity has its perks."

They turned a corner and found themselves at the beginning of a short avenue at the end of which stood an enormous, high-domed sandstone building. Sturdy square watchtowers rose from each corner and the walls that faced the street were handsomely etched between the massive double doors and the glass windows that sparkled in the desert sun, an almost unheard of luxury in this part of the world. To the right they could hear the sounds of the vendors hawking their wares at the local marketplace.

"This must be the palace," Hercules remarked, unnecessarily. "We'll get Iphicles' business done and then we'll have the rest of the day to explore."

"You mean, you'll get Iph's business done. I'm going to the market."

"Iolaus..."

"You don't need me for this and you know how I am about authority figures. I'll check out the marketplace and buy some presents for the folks back home and meet you later."

Hercules sighed, reluctant to let Iolaus out of his sight. But he capitulated seeing the eagerness with which his friend was eyeing the alleyway through which the sounds of the market could be heard. "Oh alright, but meet me at the well at the city gate in." he glanced at the sky, "two...make that three...hand widths, okay? I should be finished with the prince by then."

"Okay."

"And Iolaus..." Iolaus who was already running toward the alley, stopped midstride and looked back, "Remember, we're in a foreign land with very different customs. This is not Cyrene. Stay out of trouble."

Iolaus snickered, "Herc." he began.

"No, I mean it, Iolaus. Think before you do anything. The caravan leaves at dawn and won't be back for a month. If we miss it because you've run afoul of some local law and cooling your heels in the local pokey, we're stuck out here until then."

"Okay, Herc. But we're way the Tartarus and gone out in the desert. There's no bandits, you said yourself the prince runs a tight ship, no monsters, none of your nutty relatives hanging around. And as long as I behave myself, and I will, what trouble could I possibly get into?" He flashed the demigod a wide grin and then he was off, running toward the alley, looking for all the world like a kid just let out of school.

Hercules watched him go, smiling and shaking his head. "Why even bother to ask?"

Iolaus skidded to a halt as he emerged from the shaded alleyway and into the bright sun-lit marketplace of Alkazar. The city, which had seemed so quiet and dull so far, was, here, bursting with life and energy. Every stall, every kiosk was covered with striped awnings in every color of the rainbow and the vendors' robes were no less gaudy. The square was packed with shoppers all heavily insulated from the hot sun and Iolaus felt somewhat underdressed in comparison. Four caravans, including their own, had arrived the night before, coming to buy and trade in this remote desert city famous for its weavers, potters and jewelry makers. Every item that could conceivably be of use to these desert dwellers was on display here, fabrics and food, tools, tents and weapons, pottery, jewelry, spices, animals, mostly goats, chickens and a few camels and many other items unfamiliar to him.

Iolaus let his eyes travel around the bazaar, trying to decide where to start his shopping. It wasn't long before he realized that many of the market goers had noticed him and were watching curiously, which wasn't surprising given his clothing and his coloring. But most of the looks he was collecting seemed friendly, so he straightened his vest and sauntered casually into the bustle, just as if he belonged there, smiling and nodding to the people he passed and was often rewarded with smiles and greetings in return. 'Nice folks,' he thought, deciding that this little desert city might not be so bad after all.

He paused at a weapons booth and looked over an array of swords neatly laid out on a broad bench. A scimitar caught his eye and he picked it up, a stunning weapon, its thin curved blade glistening in the sun. The hilt was a work of art, skillfully cast in silver inlaid with onyx and ivory. It fitted snugly into his hand, the smooth, hard black stone a cool pleasing contrast to the warm silkiness of the ivory. A shadow moved between him and the sun and he looked up to see an old man about his height wearing a blue striped robe and headgear standing before him. The man bowed slightly and spoke a question in a foreign language, which sounded to Iolaus like Arabic and that he assumed to be a request to be of service.

"Greek?" Iolaus asked hopefully.

The man shook his head regretfully and Iolaus laid down the sword with a sigh. It was obviously an expensive piece, way beyond his budget. Too bad, it would have been a nice present for Jason or Iphicles. But the vendor tapped him on the arm to get his attention and pointed to the broadsword belted at the hunter's waist and looked at him questioningly, indicating that he was willing to work a trade.

Iolaus put his hand protectively on the hilt of his beloved sword, smiled and shook his head. The old man nodded, understanding, and shrugged, and turned his attention to other, more likely customers.

"Iolaus, my fren'!" Iolaus had moved away from the weapons booth and was threading his way toward a line of jewelry stalls, when he heard the thunderous bellowing of his name.

Looking around he saw a heavyset man hurrying toward him across the square, narrowly avoiding trampling the shoppers who scurried to get out of his way.

"Hey, Hajoli." Iolaus called in greeting, recognizing the head camel driver from the caravan. "What's up?"

Hajoli came to a lurching halt in front of the hunter, slapped him sharply on both bare biceps making him wince and shouted in broken accents. "You crazy Greek. Where you jalaba? You get sun silly, my fren'"

Iolaus grinned. Hajoli had bullied him on the way out from Cyrene to keep himself well wrapped in the jalabiyya on the scorching shadeless desert and it had taken less than an hour without it to convince him of the wisdom of the advice. Hercules, on the other hand, had, typically, swathed himself dutifully within the folds of the robe on first command and had emerged only upon necessity during the entire journey.

"I'm okay, Haj. Plenty of shade here. You shopping too?"

"Oh, ya. Me wife, y'know." Hajoli made an exaggerated gesture with his hand and rolled his eyes. "Cloth for new clothes for kiddies. In Cyrene, no good. Only from Alkazar good enough for her. Womans, hah." He nudged Iolaus and winked. "Y'know, my fren'?"

Iolaus laughed and braced his feet, having been on the receiving end of one of Hajoli's 'nudges' before.

"An' you, my fren'. You shop for wife, too?'

"No wife, Haj. I was heading for the jewelry stands to buy presents for Herc's and my mothers."

"So where Hercles." Hajoli looked around apprehensively, the demigod made him nervous. Hercules had done his best on the outward journey to put Hajoli at ease, but the camel driver remained unconvinced and deeply suspicious. In the fun-loving Iolaus, however, he had found a kindred spirit, and the two had rapidly formed a close friendship, Hajoli having accorded the hunter the honor of riding at the head of the caravan with him to exchange dirty Greek, Berber and Arabic jokes.

"Herc went to do his business with the prince. I'm meeting him later."

Hajoli looked relieved. "See later, fren' Iolaus. Can't leave camels long. Dey miss me. You don' forget, caravan leave at firs' light. Don' be late. Hokay? Canna wait. 'Member."

"We'll be there, don't worry." Iolaus grinned and waved at his friend as the big man made his lumbering way back across the square toward the fabric stalls, imperiling all those unfortunate enough to cross his path.

The blonde hunter edged through the crowd toward a well-stocked jewelry stall shaded by a wide yellow canopy that flapped in the desert breeze. He ducked into the shade grateful for the much-needed respite from the heat of the day and browsed idly through the trays of wares. Many of the gold and silver adornments were richly made, heavily encrusted with colorful (and expensive) gems, made for the embellishment of the wives of the wealthy and far beyond the means of a wandering hero from Greece. Knowing that the women would much prefer something less pretentious, anyway, Iolaus kept searching and had just found what he was looking for, a rack of long necklaces, each fashioned of two fine gold chains entwined with a third strand of small translucent stones in many colors, simple, elegant and, hopefully, not too expensive, when he became aware of giggling coming from somewhere directly behind him and turned.

There were four of them, small, obviously quite young, and attired alike in sky blue robes trimmed with gold, their heads covered and their faces heavily veiled. Only their bright, dark eyes were visible, dancing with merriment as they watched him. A fifth woman, also veiled, stout and robed in gray, stood with them scolding sharply in Berber. The four girls ignored her.

Iolaus smiled at them and turned back to his examination of the necklaces. Emboldened, they moved closer, surrounding him, chattering excitedly. Iolaus tried to keep his attention on the business at hand as the vendor moved in, sensing a sale in the offing, even as one girl reached out shyly and fingered a blonde curl. When he didn't object to this slight intrusion, she seized it and pulled gently, letting it go, cooing as it sprang back into place. The second girl seemed engrossed with the patches and leather trim of his vest and fingered them curiously, while a third peeked around his arm and examined his amulet. The fourth tilted her head around his shoulder on the other side, looking into his blue eyes, fascinated, and when Iolaus slid his eyes toward her, grinning, she gasped and jumped back, giggling, as if he were a statue that had suddenly come to life.

It was like being examined by a flock of inquisitive, exotic birds, but Iolaus did his best to ignore them. The vendor, a thin man with flinty black eyes and a well-trimmed goatee, scowled at the girls, but they paid no more attention to him than they did the woman in gray who continued to scold from the edge of their little group, every now and then shooting the hunter a smoldering glare. Iolaus disentangled two of the necklaces from the others on the rack, a blue one for Alcmene and a rose one for his mother, and pulled two coins from his money pouch, hoping that dinars were welcome here. It seemed that they were, the vendor smiled, but shook his head, held out his hand and waggled his fingers, indicating he wanted more. Iolaus pulled out a third and then a fourth coin, but each time the vendor shook his head and repeated the gesture.

Iolaus sighed, realizing that he was probably going to be overcharged, but he had no idea of the value of the necklaces, so he pulled out a fifth dinar and then a sixth and a seventh when the vendor still shook his head. When he produced a eighth, the vendor finally smiled and reached out for them.Iolaus was about to drop the coins in the man's outstretched hand when, with a shriek, the girl who had been so enamored of the his blue eyes, slapped away the vendor's hand and began to harangue him furiously. To Iolaus' amazement, the man actually seemed to cringe before the girl's onslaught.Shouting non-stop, without seeming to take a breath, she plucked four coins out of Iolaus' hand and dropped them into the jewelry seller's palm, and then, folding her arms across her small bosum as a signal that the transaction was over, she stared impudently at the vendor and fell silent. The vendor averted his eyes from her and glowered at Iolaus instead, but pocketed the money and turned away muttering something that sounded very much like a curse to the warrior.

"Thanks." Iolaus smiled at her as he put his purchases away in his pack.

The four girls giggled in unison, a softly blended tinkling sound and one spoke what was apparently a question to the others. They all nodded eagerly and began to chatter once more. The little woman in gray protested vehemently, her voice rising to a shriek, but two of the girls seized Iolaus ' arms while a third pulled at his vest. They trailed after the fourth who led them through the crowded bazaar, threading her way expertly through the throng. The stout woman brought up the rear, still shrieking, ignored.

The old woman's obvious distress was unnerving, but Iolaus decided she was just an overprotective nanny and after giving her a reassuring smile, he allowed himself to be led through the marketplace and into a quiet side street by his cheery new friends. He tried to ask his companions where they were going, but they didn't seem to understand a word of Greek. He tried the bit of Latin he could remember from his school days, but they didn't understand that either. His efforts to communicate only resulted in more tittering and teeheeing.

He did pause uneasily, when he was led through a filigreed gateway, into a high-walled garden, and up a cobbled walkway to a huge, elegant stone building that was without a doubt, the private dwelling of a very wealthy family. Hercules' words 'stay out of trouble!' rang in his ears as he imagined the reaction of some rich merchant upon learning that his daughters had brought a scruffy foreigner home from the market. He was very unlikely to be pleased. Oh well, after all, he was an acquaintance of the prince, well, almost an acquaintance, and if there were any misunderstandings he was sure Hercules could get the prince to smooth it over. Herc would be mad at him for sure, but he that was nothing new.

Still, he edged through the door gingerly, keeping an eye out for irate fathers, while looking around in amazement. The room was huge, with a tiled floor of green and white marble from which fluted pillars rose at intervals to support the high domed ceiling. Some of the archways cut at intervals along the walls led onto sun-washed patios or gardens and others were fitted with closed doors that likely led into other rooms. The walls were hung with immense tapestries woven with colorful threads into complex scenes of men astride horses and camels engaged in desert warfare, or lavish gardens of flowers, birds and splendidly attired young women. Between the tapestries were windows of glass, some painted with birds and flowers which caught the light, bathing the room with rich hues of subdued color.

Couches of silky fabrics piled with cushions dotted the floor, most of which were occupied by young women, some mere girls, some a bit older, all unveiled, all expensively dressed in bright fabrics that draped their slim bodies. Their arms, ankles and throats were adorned with jewelry even more elaborate than that which Iolaus had seen in the market; their shimmering black hair swept up onto their small shapely heads and pinned with jeweled combs. Scanning them quickly, Iolaus counted sixteen, plus his four escorts, twenty in all. They were all exquisitely beautiful.

They were all occupied, some weaving, their shuttles darting quickly through the threads stretched over the looms set up in front of them. Some were embroidering designs on heavy pieces of cloth laid across their laps, while others were stitching clothing. And there were servants, mostly male, going about their work unobtrusively. Some stood behind the couches gently waving palm fronds to create soft breezes. Others were placing baskets piled high with fruits and breads onto a long marble table that occupied the center of the room.

It was this last that was Iolaus' undoing. It looked very much as if he had been invited to lunch and the alarm bells that were warning him to back out right now and run like Tartarus were drowned out by the rumblings from his stomach. He allowed the girls to pull him forward toward the table as they shed their veils, each one proving to be even lovelier than he had imagined. All eyes turned toward them, shuttles and needles poised as they made their progress from the door. The servants looked up, startled, and then dropped their eyes again pausing only briefly in their assigned tasks, the young women regarding them with varying degrees of interest and alarm. The woman in gray scowled and stormed passed the assembled company angrily, disappearing through one of the doors, almost, but not quite, slamming it behind her. Her raised voice could still be heard, complaining shrilly to someone in the room beyond.

At the table his four new friends began a lively debate with the other young women, who had all laid aside their work and risen to join them, each of whom scrutinized the hunter cautiously, their eyes lingering with interest on his golden curls and blue eyes. One young woman poked him in the ribs and asked him a question. All of the them stopped talking at once and looked at him expectantly. Iolaus felt quite baffled until the girl poked him in the chest and repeated the question.

Then the light dawned. "My name. You want to know my name?" He pointed to himself and said loudly, as if they were slightly deaf. "Iolaus. My name is Iolaus."

"E.o.lus." One girl tried out the strange syllables and giggled. All the others burst out laughing.

Iolaus grinned. It was impossible to be offended by these good-natured child-like creatures, so he laughed and pointed at them one after another. "And your names are...?"

They all began to talk at once shouting their names excitedly, but Iolaus could make very little sense out of the clatter. It didn't matter, it would take some time to match names with faces anyway, and he was sure he hadn't ought to linger here long. Perhaps they would offer him some bread and fruit, and then he'd be on his way.

But the girls had other ideas and pushed him onto a bench at the head of the table. One girl placed a silver disk in front of him and began to load it with food from the dishes on the table. Another fetched a goblet and after filling it with an amber liquid put it beside his plate; and then they all sat down and watched him. Feeling a little like a performing monkey at a circus, Iolaus took a small bite of bread and a sip of the drink. The bread was warm and delicious with delicate spices baked into the crust and the liquid was wine, cool and sweet and lightly fermented.

Iolaus smiled and nodded his approval and the girls broke into giggles. As if on cue they all picked up their own plates and began to load them with food. The lunch was merry and noisy, with the ladies chattering endlessly amongst themselves while casting side-long glances at their guest. Besides an assortment of fruits and all kinds of breads, all baked into different shaped loaves, each with its own unique filling or spice, there were many varieties of nuts and cheeses, roasted chunks of spicy meats of indeterminate origin, that Iolaus chanced eating anyway, and found to be delicious. The girls took evident delight in watching him eat and kept refilling his plate and wine cup, urging him with their hands to try this dish or that dish, while they themselves picked sparing at their own food.

Watching their girlish figures, Iolaus decided and finally shook his head at yet another refill, signaling that he couldn't hold another bite. He rose, hoping it wasn't considered rude to eat and run, but thought it prudent to take his leave before their possibly sword-wielding menfolk showed up. He smiled and thanked them profusely for the wonderful lunch all the while edging toward the door. Twenty faces fell in disappointment until one whispered something to another and they both started to giggle. They all jumped up and surrounded him, patting him and his clothes and making scrubbing motions.

"A bath. You want to give me...you want me to take a bath?" He really could use a bath, he was hot and sticky and his clothes were still stained from the long trip across the desert, but he protested, saying, "no really, I..." But the girls seized him with surprisingly strong little hands and since he didn't want to offend them after they had been so kind or risk injuring one of these sweet little creatures by resisting, he allowed them to march him toward one of the archways. Anyway, he told himself, they would undoubtedly lead him to the bathhouse and then leave, giving him an opportunity to slip quietly away.

But the canopied patio, screened on all sides from prying eyes by large exotic potted plants, upon which they emerged was, evidently, the 'bathhouse'. The 'tub' was a huge slab of black marble set along one side of the patio, the center of which was scooped out to form a deep basin. A servant had opened a valve from which water poured into this basin while another emptied the contents of a small green vial under the spout. Bubbles began to form rising high like rainbow colored clouds as the tub filled. It looked cool, inviting and completely irresistible. Iolaus gazed at it longingly.

That galvanized the ladies into immediate action. One relieved him of his pack, while another deftly stripped his vest from his shoulders. Another unhooked his belts letting them and his sword drop to the patio floor, while yet another reached for the laces of his pants.

"No. Wait. Don't. I..." Iolaus protested, trying to twist away, but was held tightly by his giggling captors while the girl undid the laces. They pushed him, still protesting down onto a bench where two girls took hold of his boots and pulled them off and two others seized the legs of his pants and yanked, removing them with one swift concerted motion.

And then they stopped, went silent and stared, wide-eyed. When Iolaus realized what they were staring at, he quickly put both hands over that part of his anatomy and did the only thing he could think to do. He jumped feet first into the tub. But he could get no foothold on the slick curved surface and slid, landing on his backside with a tremendous splatter of water and bubbles. When he shook the water from his eyes, the girls were still staring, but now with alarm. He grinned at them and, reassured, they began to giggle, their astonishment apparently forgotten. and gathering up his belongings, they disappeared, with much tittering and chattering, back into the building.

Left alone, Iolaus heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed, lying back in the tub, just enjoying the feel of the cool water on his overheated skin. The company of the girls, as cute and charming as they were, was beginning wear on him a little. On the rim of the tub sat two silver dishes; one held a springy, colorful sponge and the other, a flaky clump of sweet smelling stuff that he guessed was soap. His hair was already wet, so he lathered it with the soap and was rewarded with a head full of bubbly foam. After ducking to rinse his hair, he wiped the water out of his eyes and picked up the sponge to scrub himself. He was just playing, taking up big handfuls of bubbles, blowing them aloft and watching them float back into the bath when his eyes traveled past the doorway and then back again and stopped.

The woman standing under the arch watching him with amusement was tall, dressed in a knee-length green dress with a shoulder drape that was more Greek than Berber. Her hair was long and auburn, cascading over her shoulders in thick rippling waves. She was older than the others, her shapely figure fuller and more mature.

She moved forward when she saw that she had his attention, the gaze she bestowed upon him was cool and appraising, neither approving nor disapproving, reserving judgment. As she drew closer, he could see that her eyes were large and light gray. He watched cautiously as she perched gracefully on the edge of the marble tub. "They tell me your name is Iolaus," she said in perfect Greek.

"Uh.yes, " was the only intelligent thing that Iolaus could think of to say.

"My name is Samira and you know, you shouldn't be here."

"I kind of thought.I mean.the girls..."

She interrupted him briskly, but not unkindly. "Why did you come?"

"The girls...I mean.they were so nice. They helped me with the money in the market when a guy was going to cheat me and then they wanted me to come with then and I...well, they seemed so nice and..." His voice trailed off and then he added as a new thought struck him. "They aren't in any trouble because of me, are they? I mean, it was all my fault. I shouldn't have come, and I'll leave right now, er...when I get my clothes back."

She regarded him silently, looking into the earnest blue eyes and then her own eyes softened and she smiled. Apparently, she was satisfied that he truly hadn't had any ulterior motive for coming. "Do you know where you are?" she asked. She made a slight gesture toward a servant who had appeared in the archway and the man melted back into the shadows of the house with a small bow.

He shook his head splattering her with drops of water and then tried to apologize.

But she seemed not to notice. "These are the apartments of the wives of Prince Ahmad Al-Jami."

"Oh." Iolaus squeezed the water out of the sponge as he absorbed that information. Samira waited quietly. "Wives?' Iolaus asked finally. "How many of the girls...er...ladies are his wives."

"All that you saw are either wives or concubines."

"Wow!" Iolaus fished the cake of soap out of the bath and put it back into its dish. "Some of them looked kind of young to be wives...or concubines." He said slowly, expecting to be told politely to mind his own business.

But Samira seemed perfectly willing to chat with him now. "The youngest is twelve. Not too young to marry, not here."

"And you look after them?"

Samira laughed at that, a deep throaty chuckle. "The nanny? No, I am Ahmad's wife also. First wife."

Iolaus looked at her puzzled, "But you're not..."

"From around here?" Samira smiled. "No. My mother was Berber, but my father was Greek. I was born and brought up in Cyrene."

"But why...?" He stopped. Definitely prying here, Iolaus.

But Samira wasn't offended in the least. "Why would a Greek girl marry a Berber prince and spend her life shut up in a harem?" The servant reappeared bearing a tray laden with two goblets and a flagon of wine. He set them before Samira and left. She filled a cup, passed it to Iolaus and then poured another for herself before going on. "My father was a wealthy tradesman in the mercantile business. I was betrothed.to a merchant, old, fat, rich." She grinned. "You know, the usual." Iolaus smiled as he sipped his wine. "I was not happy about it, but I was resigned. That's just the way things were. But one day Ahmad Al-Jami came riding into Cyrene astride a great black horse." Her eyes grew dreamy, reminiscing. "He was young, dashing, handsome and I fell in love with him instantly. And he with me. My father, of course, wouldn't hear of it, so we ran away together. Everyone told me he wouldn't marry me, but he did."

"And you came here."

"Not straight away. Ahmad's father had sent him off to travel before he must settle down. To learn the ways of the world he would someday have to deal with. I went with him everywhere. I've been as far to the west as the Great Ocean and east to Mesopotamia and Araby and beyond. I've been to Rome and to Greece, many times, and to the lands in the north. They were wonderful years, and young as I was, I thought they would last forever. But one day word came that Ahmad's father had died and he must return home to rule." She shrugged, "and here I am."

"But, the other wives.?"

"Oh, that is his duty and his tradition. A prince must have many wives, many children; custom demands it. I knew that when I married him. And I bore him no children, you see, nor could they succeed him if I had. But I am still his only love and he is mine."

She gazed at Iolaus and smiled gently. "And now you must finish your bath and leave. It is forbidden that one like you should look upon the unveiled faces of the prince's wives." She rose and prepared to go.

"So. I am in big trouble?" Iolaus said, already seeing the mingled look of resignation and disapproval on Herc's face should he learn of this afternoon's little adventure.

Samira laughed. "In another household, you might be beheaded," she said bluntly, smiling as Iolaus, startled, put a hand to his throat. "But," she added hastily, "since you are a friend of Hercules and King Iphicles." She paused again arching one eyebrow at him as he registered surprise at her knowing exactly who he was, "and because Ahmad considers himself a very modern man, and because I have a great deal of influence with him, I am certain I can persuade him not to do anything rash, if it should become necessary. But the sooner you leave, the better. The servants do talk. I'll have some clothing sent in, yours are being cleaned, and when they are ready I will have them delivered to your caravan."

"Thanks." Iolaus said gratefully, but she was already halfway across the patio.

At the door she turned and smiled at him, her cheeks dimpling, making her look like the carefree young girl she once must have been. "Goodbye, Iolaus. It was a pleasure to have met you. You are very charming and I can understand why the girls wanted to bring you home, although it was very naughty of them. And it's not often that I have a chance to converse in my native tongue. It is not likely that we shall meet again, so I wish you a safe journey home."

"Thank you." Iolaus said again. He wanted to say more, but she was gone. He frowned. What had she meant by 'a man like you'? It sounded vaguely insulting, but she hadn't seemed to have had meant it that way. A servant padded silently onto the patio bearing a thick towel over one arm and carrying a blue bundle in the other hand. Wordlessly, he laid them on the bench and left as quietly as he had come. His clue to leave.

He signed and poured the remainder of the wine into his cup and drank it quickly. He had had rather a lot of wine that afternoon and he was feeling a bit woozy. Reluctant to leave the cool bath, Iolaus stood, reeling slightly, a little drunk and nearly fell again in horror when he thought he saw a disembodied head floating between two potted plants. He jerked his head up abruptly, shaking it to bring his vision into focus, and found himself looking straight into the burning blue-eyed glare of one furiously angry demigod.

Hercules watched his partner skip happily into the alley and then turned to walk toward the palace. The cobbled road widened as he neared the steps that led up to the main door and then separated into two narrower lanes that led around each side of the building. To the stables and servants quarters, Hercules thought and then amended, slave quarters. Iphicles had told him that Prince Ahmad kept slaves and had warned him not to get prissy about it. Prissy. That was the word Iphicles had used. Hercules mounted the steps wondering glumly just when he had become so stuffy...so righteous that his own brother called him prissy. He didn't think he was, and furthermore, he was sure that if he did act that way occasionally, Iolaus would waste no time telling him about it.

The door was pulled open the first time he dropped the heavy bronze knocker against it. A servant, a slave, bowed him into a handsome foyer and then signaled the demigod to follow him past the massive staircase to a door at the back of the hall.

The prince's reception room was large and surprisingly cool and light, with furnishing of wood that must have been laboriously hauled across the desert by camels, or slaves, Hercules thought meanly. The coolness was explained by the large number of servants/slaves that were stationed about the room waving enormous palm fronds. The light came from the huge windows cut into the stone walls.

Rising from where he had been sitting behind a long table talking with his scribe, the prince advanced to greet him. He was a man in his middle years, growing a bit portly under his blue robe, but strikingly handsome with a full neatly trimmed beard and a head of jet-black curls.

"Hercules. Brother of my friend, the King of Corinth. I am honored to meet at last the son of the King of the Gods, Greece's hero and greatest treasure. Welcome to Alkazar." The prince spoke Greek with only the very slightest accent.

'Greatest treasure' Hercules thought 'I wonder if he means me or Zeus'. He smiled as the prince greeted him with a handshake in the Greek style, and said politely. "I am honored to be here, Prince Ahmad and I'm sorry I was not in Corinth to meet you during your visit."

"Come, come. Sit. Refresh yourself. We shall have food...wine." He led Hercules to the table, turned to the slave who still waited by the door and said a few words to him in Berber. The slave went out letting the door close quietly behind him.

The prince chatted with him aimlessly for a while asking about the health of his brother, and of his mother and her husband both of whom he had met on his visit to Corinth a few months before, when he and Iphicles had sketched out the first details of the trade agreement he hoped to finalize this day. He was quite knowledgeable and surprisingly up-to-date on the affairs of the Mediterranean world and they talked at length about wars, the weather, the economy and the threat of Rome. Hercules began to relax, enjoying the conversation, pleased to find the prince both intelligent and agreeable, and not the semi-barbaric desert warrior he had been expecting.

In the meantime, the slave had returned bearing a pitcher of wine and a platter of sweetbreads. After filling a goblet for each of the three men, he left unobtrusively. Hercules was pleased to note that the scribe, obviously a paid employee, had been served without inquiry and with the same deference as the prince and his guest. His opinion of the prince went up a few more notches.

Finally Prince Ahmad had exhausted all the topics of interest and he sat up straight in his chair and slapped the palm of his hand sharply against the table causing the scribe, to jump. "Time to get to business. You have your brother's proposal?"

Hercules had already reached for his pack, which he had dropped by his chair upon arriving. He pulled out a leather cylinder and removed from it a scroll, which he handed to Ahmad. The prince in return handed him a scroll passed to him by his scribe and the two spent the next hour comparing the lists. There really wasn't much for them to do, Iphicles and Ahmad had gone over their requests quite thoroughly months before and it was mostly a matter of merging the lists and comparing the values of goods to be certain that each party received a fair return. Soon the prince declared himself satisfied and Hercules, well coached by Iphicles before leaving Corinth, agreed.

"So, that's that." Ahmad gathered up the scrolls and gave them to the scribe. "Mazrad will draw up the final agreement in Greek and Berber and he will have a copy ready for you this afternoon to take back to your brother. Now let's have lunch."

Hercules followed the prince out into a pleasant shaded garden where a lavish lunch was being laid out on a handsome marble table. There was so much food that Hercules looked around for other guests, but the feast seemed to be just for the two of them. After the prince had seated himself at the head of the table, the demigod settled into the chair set out for him at the monarch's right and prepared to tuck in. Many of the dishes were unfamiliar so he allowed Ahmad to choose for him, determined to eat whatever was put before him no matter what it was or what he thought it might be.

Everything was delicious and Ahmad was the perfect dinner host, keeping the conversation light, drawing Hercules out on the subject of his adventures, his vacation and his trip across the desert by camelback and laughing at the antics of the demigod's partner and Hajoli, the driver, who was rather notorious for his pranks and piquant sense of humor. His own contribution to the lunch talk was a few anecdotes about life in the desert and the trials and tribulations of being the owner of six hundred slaves and twenty-one wives. Hercules managed to laugh appreciatively and supposed it was all very funny even though he couldn't see the humor. These were the times he really missed Iolaus' company. Iolaus almost always saw the funny side of any story or situation instantly and derived great amusement from explaining it all to what he described as his humor-challenged friend.

All in all, it was progressing as a very nice lunch, when one of the guards rushed into the garden and whispered in the prince's ear and then stood at attention, waiting.

Ahmad frowned and turned to his guest. "I'm afraid I must leave you now. It seems that a foreigner, an unaltered male, has gotten into the seraglio and I must go. Please finish your lunch, Take your time. Wait here if you like or return later in the day for the final trade agreement." The prince rose and hurriedly followed the guardsman into the palace.

Hercules nearly choked on the mouthful of food he had been about to swallow. He didn't hear the last of the prince's comments. He had stopped listening at 'a foreigner, an unaltered male'.'Oh gods, Iolaus! It just had to be Iolaus. Oh, shit!'

He was out of his chair in a flash, racing through the reception room, where the scribe looked up from his work, mouth wide, and out into the foyer, past the startled slave and through the door. At the bottom of the steps, he skidded to a halt, undecided about which way to go. He guessed that the seraglio would be at the rear of the palace and hoped that he was right; it would be his only chance of getting to Iolaus, if indeed the intruder was Iolaus, before the prince did.

He sprinted right, past the stables and into the formal gardens. There he could see a high stone wall surrounding a building whose glistening domed roof he could see at the back of the enclosure. That had to be it. He took a deep calming breath. After all, he told himself, it was market day. There was a hundred or more 'foreigners' in Alkazar, who had arrived with the caravans to trade. There was no real reason to suspect that the stranger who had gotten into the harem was Iolaus. But on the other hand...

No one was in sight, but he kept to the shadows of the trees as he approached the wall. Choosing a tree whose low growing branches made an easy climb, he clambered up and peeked into the enclosure. Still nobody in sight so he levered himself from the tree to the top of the wall and jumped, landing lightly with knees bent. Great, now there are two 'foreign, unaltered males' in the seraglio. He wondered vaguely how it had been discovered that Iolaus was an 'unaltered' male, but decided to worry about that later. Sometime in the past few minutes, he had gone from wondering 'if' the intruder were Iolaus to being damned certain that it was. Who else but Iolaus could go shopping for trinkets and end up crashing a harem.

Cautiously, he made his way to the building being careful to keep in the shelter of the shrubbery and pausing occasionally to scan the open areas ahead. He reached it without being observed and crouched, edging along the outer wall wondering what to do next. Ahead he could see a line of potted plants that screened what seemed to be an open patio. As good a place to start as any. He dropped to his hands and knees and crept close peering into the patio between two plants, reminding himself that if he were seen, looking silly wasn't going to be the big issue.

And there he was, his blonde head rising above the edge of a basin cut into a slab of marble. As Hercules watched, Iolaus threw his head back and swallowed the last of the contents of a goblet. Setting the cup on the rim of the tub, he got to his feet, staggering slightly and dripping water. 'Oh gods, dead drunk and taking a bath. I'm definitely going to throttle him this time'. Well, at least, the mystery of the discovery about his friend's sexual status was solved.

Iolaus' eyes brushed past the potted plants where Hercules crouched and he lurched, nearly falling over in the tub. He recovered though, and looked up straight into his partner's eyes. For one moment, he looked as if he might faint, but then he recovered and gave his partner a weak grin.

"Hi Herc," he said with forced cheerfulness. "Whatcha doin' here?"

"What am I...?" Hercules snarled and rose to his full height after checking the garden behind him for observers and seeing none. He moved one of the heavy pots aside and squeezed onto the patio. "A better question is, 'What in Tartarus are you doing here'? And how in the name of the gods did you get here? No, never mind now," he said as Iolaus opened his mouth to explain. "We've got to get out of here. Prince Ahmad is on his way. Get your clothes on."

Iolaus was already toweling himself hastily with one hand while reaching for the blue bundle with the other, which proved to be a tunic and a pair of loose pants of a lightweight fabric. He had pulled the tunic over his head and was struggling to pull the pants up over his still wet hips when there was a rapid tapping of sandals from the house and Samira burst onto the patio looking distraught. She gave Hercules one startled glance and then turned to Iolaus.

"Quickly, Ahmad is coming with his guards." She ushered them toward the gap in the plants and peered out. "It's all clear. Go." The two men squeezed out onto the grass and she leaned out behind them. "The gate is that way," she said, pointing. "Go to your caravan and wait. I'll send your things there. Wait," she said, as they turned to leave, "the plant." Hercules pulled the heavy pot back into place and nudged Iolaus into the cover of a thicket.

Back on the patio, Samira swiftly pulled the plug to drain the tub and picked up the wet towel to mop the water droplets from the rim. Throwing the towel over her arm, she picked up the tray with the goblets and empty wine flagon, and after giving the patio a cursory glance to be sure everything was in its proper place, she hurried into the house

The two men made their way without incident across the garden, everyone's attention being focused on the commotion coming from the house where, apparently, Ahmad and his guards were tearing the place apart looking for the intruder.

But after they had dashed through the gate and out into the street, Iolaus stopped. "Herc, I can't go into the market in this outfit. You can see right through it."

"Yeah, long past time for you to be worrying about your modesty, Iolaus. Come on. We don't know our way around well enough to go wandering through the side streets." He grabbed the warrior's arm and started pulling him toward the square.

Iolaus braced his feet, resisting. "But Herc."

But Hercules kept pulling, dragging the hunter along in his wake. "Would you rather lose your head?"

"Urk." Iolaus winced. "Do you really think he would do that.just for...?"

"Want to stick around and find out?"

So Iolaus decided it would be good idea to stop arguing and the two ran until they reached the square. The market was still in full swing even more crowded than before. Hercules slowed to a walk. "Okay, let's walk casually, we don't want to attract attention."

Iolaus couldn't help it, he started snorting, then giggling, slapping a hand over his mouth, trying to make it sound like a cough.

"Will you cut that out? What's the matter with you, anyway? People are already starting to stare." Hercules glared down at his partner. And sure enough, some of the shoppers and vendors had already seen the two men and were watching them avidly.

"I think we going to attract attention, no matter what we do unless I come up with a robe in a hurry." Iolaus snickered. "Maybe I'd better walk behind you."

"Okay." Hercules started off at a slow saunter through the square threading his way though the crowd smiling and nodding at the curious passersby with Iolaus as close behind as he could get without treading on his heels.

"Okay, back there?"

"Fine." Iolaus smiled charmingly at a heavily bearded man who stopped short and stared, turning to watch them retreat into the crowd. Iolaus tugged the tunic as low as it would go. "Blending right in here."

When they passed the alleyway where Iolaus had entered the market, the hunter tapped the demigod on the shoulder. "Isn't this where we get off?"

Hercules shook his head. "Too close to the palace. Let's try the main street. It should lead us directly to the gate."

They had just reached the bottleneck where the square narrowed into the roadway, pushing their way carefully through the crowd, when Iolaus sensed a solid presense close behind him. Whirling, half expecting to see one of the guards, he relaxed when he found Hajoli behind him, three bolts of colorful fabric tucked under one arm and a big grin on his face.

"You got nice tush, fren' Iolaus. If I were guy girl, I would tink very cute."

Iolaus glowered at the camel driver and tugged at the tunic again but it wouldn't go any lower. "Where did you come from Haj? I would have thought you'd be back with your camels by now."

"Saw you go off wid prince gurls. Much bad. Dumb." Hajoli pulled his face into a mock scowl. "Big trouble for you. So I wait and see. Now we better go to caravan." He turned Iolaus around and gave him what was for him a gentle shove that sent the hunter staggering into the demigod. "Hide you. Stuff you under camel."

"Best idea I've heard all day." Hercules snorted, pushing his partner upright again.

With Hajoli hovering protectively behind Iolaus and providing directions to Hercules in the lead, the threesome had just turned into a side street when a commotion erupted in the market. Looking back, Hajoli saw the prince's guards enter the square from the direction of the palace. The guardsmen didn't seem to notice them; they were looking into stalls and peering into the faces of passersby. Hercules was already out of sight. Hajoli quickly moved his bulk to shield Iolaus from view until the blonde had rounded the corner, and then strolled casually around it himself. If the guards looked up they would only see a big man in desert dress on his way back to his caravan.

But once out of sight, he quickened his pace to catch up to Hercules and Iolaus, who had stopped and were watching him curiously. "What?" Iolaus asked.

"Guards. In marketplace. We hurry. Soon search city." Hajoli took the lead and with a surprising burst of speed for such a large man, he led them through the twisting, turning streets until they neared the gate where Hercules hissed a warning and all three stopped in the shadow of a large warehouse.

"What matter?" Hajoli asked, impatient for them to be on their way.

"There are guards at the gate. They may be on the lookout for us."

"E - yi." Hajoli thumped his head with one meaty hand. "Shoulda tought. Dumb."

"So is there another way out of the city?" Iolaus asked.

"Uh, ya. Not easy. Guards will see. Let Haj tink." And the big man put his chin in his hand and thought, while Hercules and Iolaus watched him silently hoping that all that mental activity was bearing fruit. Finally, Hajoli picked up his head and beamed at Hercules. "Got idea. Put out arms." Puzzled, Hercules obeyed. Hajoli dropped the bolts of fabric across his forearms, and started to shrug out of his jalabiyya, saying. "You fren' Iolaus, get on back."

"Back where?"

"Not where back," Hajoli said impatiently. "Him back," and he pointed at Hercules.

"Herc's back? You want me to get on Herc's back?" Iolaus looked at Hajoli as if he thought he had clearly lost his mind.

"Ya, ya. Like, how you say, picky back."

Iolaus and Hercules exchanged puzzled looks and shrugged. Iolaus jumped lightly onto the demigod's back, making Hercules lurch, nearly dropping the bolts of fabric.

"Good, good. Legs around waist like so. Now put arms 'round neck an' lay head on shouder. Dat good. Iolaus, not move." And he took his big robe and threw it over the two men, reaching up to pull the hood well down over Hercules' head covering most of his face, and then tied the robe around the demigod's neck, hiding Iolaus completely. He fussed at the robe, pulling it one way and another, shaking out the folds, until at last he was satisfied. He took the bolts of fabric from Hercules and tucked them under his own arm. "Dere. Now you great big hunchy-back."

"This'll never work." Hercules muttered. "I can't even see where I'm going."

"Will work fine.just fine Watch Haj feet and follow. And drag leg. "

"Drag leg?"

"Ya. Like dis." Hajoli lurched around in a circle dragging one leg behind him. "Saw hunchy-back in Egypt one time. Drag leg like so."

"Okay, okay." Under the clock, Hercules rolled his eyes. "Drag leg. I got it."

"Hey, fellers." Iolaus' muffled voice emerged from under the jalabiyya. Can we hurry this up a little? It's not exactly comfy like this, and it's damned hot."

"Hokay. We go."

They passed through the gates of Alkazar without incident; the guard, fascinated by the hunchback's rolling gait, only nodded absently at Hajoli's ingenuous greeting. They walked down the road between the rows of camels and tents casually, quite certain that the guard's eyes were still on them, until they reached the place where Hajoli's caravan had set up camp. Hajoli led them through the maze of tents, stacks of crates and piles of goods until they reached his tent near the back where the camels were tethered.

Once inside, Hercules yanked off the robe and shook off Iolaus, who was clinging like a limpet to his back, dumping him onto a pile of colorful blankets and cushions, where he lay giggling.

"Now that was fun. I wish I could have seen you..." He stopped as he looked up and saw that Hercules was standing over him, hands on hips, and he wasn't laughing.

"Iolaus. I swear by the gods, this time I'm going to wring your neck."

"I'm sorry Herc," the hunter said hastily, trying to paste a contrite look on his face, but not succeeding very well, "but it wasn't my fault. Well," he amended, "okay, maybe it was my fault, but I didn't mean it. Really, I was just shopping, minding my own business, staying out of trouble just like you said, and these girls came along and..." and he launched into a lengthy explanation of the afternoon's events.

Hercules listened impatiently, arms folded, until he felt he had heard enough, knowing that Iolaus could go on for the rest of the afternoon if he weren't stopped. "And, of course," he said acidly, cutting across the flow of words, "you just had to go along with all this."

"Well, I think anybody would. Well, almost anybody, anyway. You wouldn't," he grinned up at Hercules impishly, "with your unerring nose for trouble you would have smelt it right off. With your divine intuition, you would have immediately seen a situation fraught with peril and run away, shrieking, with your tail between..."

Hercules was fighting to rein in his rising temper, telling himself that the whole incident was just Iolaus being Iolaus, but the needling was too much. "Dammit, Iolaus," he thundered, causing Hajoli to jump. "Don't you ever stop to think? Oh no," he went on in a milder tone. "Of course, you don't. You don't have to. You've got this big, dumb demigod to bail you out of trouble every time you do something stupid. Did you ever think to ask if they were allowed to bring you home?"

"Well, there wasn't much conversation seeing's how none of them spoke Greek." Iolaus had stopped grinning and was looking quite crestfallen.

"The woman I met spoke Greek just fine."

"Uh, she came along later, and she did tell me I had to go." Iolaus risked one glance at his friend's face and then found something interesting on the tent wall to look at instead.

"And, of course, you immediately did just that," Hercules snarled sarcastically.

"Well, er...I didn't have any clothes. The girls took them."

"The girls took your clothes? What in Tartarus were you doing that the girls had the opportunity to take your clothes?"

"Just what you saw, taking a bath. Sheesh, Herc, I think you know me well enough to know group-foolery isn't exactly my style. Especially with girls young enough to be my daughters."

Hercules grimaced. "Point taken. Okay so what...?"

"Samira, the one who speaks Greek, told me I had to leave and she would send some clothes for me to wear, because mine were being cleaned. A servant brought me these," he plucked at the transparent tunic, "and I was just getting out of the tub to get dressed and there you were." He looked up at the demigod, puzzled. "How come you were hiding behind the plants watching me take a bath anyway?"

Hajoli grinned; he'd like to hear the answer to that question himself, causing Hercules to go a bit pink. "Never mind now, I'll tell you later." Hercules heaved a sigh, his temper cooling. "If the prince doesn't know who you are, there's no harm done, I guess. You'll just have to stay here out of sight until the caravan leaves tomorrow."

Hajoli cleared his throat. "Hate to burst bubble, but prince know all."

"Oh, omniscient, is he?" Hercules asked, amused.

Hajoli shook his head, not knowing exactly what that word meant. "No, no. Servants."

"Slaves, you mean." Hercules growled darkly.

"Hokay, slaves," Hajoli shrugged agreeably. "See everything, hear everything, tell all. Make big...er..." Hajoli searched his limited Greek vocabulary for the right word, "...er...favor with prince. When search city, not find fren' Iolaus, come here to look."

"Oh great, wonderful." Hercules thought for moment, and looked at Hajoli, "How about you loan us a couple of camels? With enough food and water, we could get to Cyrene on our own."

Hajoli shook his head regretfully. "Good plan, but no. Some one see, tell prince. Prince send men after. You on camels. Dey on horses. Desert ponies, tough, fast. You not get away." The camel driver rested his chin on his hand. "Now let Haj think."

Hajoli was still thinking a few minutes later when a low voice spoke his name from outside the tent. Hercules jumped and moved to shield Iolaus from sight, but Hajoli was unperturbed and spoke a few words back. The flap was pulled open and one of the camel drivers entered. Casting a quick glance at the two Greeks, he moved closer to his chief and murmured a few words.

Hajoli looked at Hercules with a worried frown. "He say messager from prince here. Want you come to palace."

Hercules thought quickly. It was possible that he had been seen, but he thought not. "Iolaus," he turned and looked down at the hunter, "do you think Samira can be trusted?"

Iolaus nodded. "Yeah, Herc. I do."

"Samira?" Hajoli interjected. "You meet Samira? She good girl. Can trust. Got good heart, has Samira."

"You seem to know her well," Hercules observed.

Hajoli smiled sheepishly. "Were childs together. How you say...playmates? My farder work for her farder."

"Okay," Hercules rubbed his hand across his chin, thinking rapidly. "Most likely, it's simply that the trade agreement is ready and he doesn't know that I'm involved in this so I'd better go."

"You think that's a good idea." Iolaus asked, worriedly.

"He's expecting me to pick up Iph's copy of the agreement and if I don't, he will get suspicious. Don't worry...and stay here. Out of sight." He fixed his friend with a stern, I-mean-it look. "Promise?"

"Okay, I promise." But Iolaus clearly was not happy about it.

Knowing that Iolaus would keep his promise once he had made it, Hercules grinned at him and turned to Hajoli. "Keep on working on that plan, Haj, and better find a good hiding place for our fugitive here."

"Hokay," Hajoli had lost most of his reservations about the demigod during the past hour. "You be careful. Good luck."

Hajoli's man escorted Hercules to where the prince's messenger was waiting patiently to conduct him to the palace. The guard at the gate glared distrustfully at his cheerful greeting and Hercules firmly squelched a frivolous urge to hunch one shoulder and drag a leg.

He sobered up, however, as they neared the palace, uneasy about the interview ahead, but when he was escorted into the reception room, the prince stood up, smiled and greeted him casually enough. Hercules heart sank, though, when he saw Samira standing at Ahmad's side, looking pale and worried

'Uh, oh.' But Hercules managed what he hoped was a convincing smile and returned the prince's greeting.

Ahmad picked up a scroll from the table. "So, my friend Hercules, our agreement is complete. All we need is the signature of your brother and the deal is done. You will see the finished document is just as we agreed...with one minor alteration."

'Double uh, oh.' Hercules' throat went dry. He swallowed and managed to croak. "One m...m...minor alteration?" Samira shot him an apologetic look.

"Yes." The prince unrolled the parchment and thrust it under Hercules' nose. "As you see here, in exchange for one more load of camel dung, your brother will confer to me the title to one of his subjects. A man, I believe, of your acquaintance," the prince shot the demigod a calculating look, "who goes by the name of Iolaus."

"Iolaus!...title...confer...camel dung!" Stunned, clearly unable to decide which outrage to address first, Hercules finally seized on the one that offended him the most. "My brother cannot confer Iolaus to you. He's not a slave, he's a free man!"

"Come, come, my dear fellow," Ahmad said reasonably. "Your brother is a king, is he not?"

"So?"

"A king's subjects belong to him. To do with whatever he wishes, do they not?"

"No!" Hercules answered vehemently, "Not in my country, anyway."

The prince's eyes narrowed, "Ah, but you see, now you are in my country."

"I..." Hercules suddenly became acutely aware at just how far into Ahmad's country they were. "But you can't be serious," he exclaimed, deciding to shift tactics.

"Hercules," and suddenly Ahmad's eyes grew hard, reminding the demigod that he was facing a prince with formidable powers. "Your man invaded the quarters of my women. That is forbidden by all the laws that govern my people. It is not something that I can simply overlook. My prestige demands that this situation be dealt with to my satisfaction. Fortunately there is a simple solution to this problem."

Hercules lost his temper. "And your satisfaction demands that my friend be executed for having done nothing but accept an invitation to lunch?" he shouted angrily.

"Execute? My dear Hercules, is that what you thought? No wonder you are so upset." the prince laughed, regaining his good humor as quickly as he had lost it. "I have no intention of executing this Iolaus. Far from it. It is my wish to make a place for him here as a member of my household."

Hercules just stared at him wordlessly, dumbfounded, feeling that the situation was rapidly deteriorating into utter confusion. He shifted his gaze to Samira, who, refusing to meet his glance, pursed her lips and examined the tapestries on the wall like a housewife ready to embark on a cleaning binge.

"And just what," Hercules asked, keeping his voice calm, "sort of position did you have in mind?"

"Oh, one that he will like very much, no doubt, since he evidently enjoys the company of women." The prince smiled hugely. "My little girls," Hercules had to assume he was referring to his wives and concubines, "were quite enchanted with him. The blue eyes, yellow curls, not something they see every day and they have begged me to acquire him for them."

"Acquire?" Hercules echoed stupidly.

"Yes, and since I am a very good husband to them and do everything in my power to keep them happy and content, I have agreed." The prince spread his arms and looked at Hercules, "Women, what can one do?"

"You mean," Hercules said slowly, having the feeling that he was definitely missing something here, "you intend to give him to them?"

"Exactly. He will live a life of utter luxury. Not a care in the world. And if my girls should tire of him, I promise I shall give him an excellent position in the palace. My word upon it. And my word is good," he said firmly daring Hercules to doubt him. "I am not a barbarian."

Hercules had a fleeting vision of Iolaus, reclining on plush cushions, surrounded by a bevy of lovely young women, being petted, cosseted, fed peeled grapes, before shaking himself back to reality. "But...you said...what you said...about...you know." 'Oh gods, Herc, stop being prissy. Maybe Iph was right. Just come right out with it.' "You told me no unaltered males were allowed in the seraglio, remember?"

"Of course," Ahmad chuckled, "They can play all they want, have fun, enjoy each other; my girls are allowed their little diversions. But the other is a privilege only I enjoy. The children born in the seraglio must be of my blood, you understand. All the males who live there are slaves...and eunuchs. But we shall take care of that little problem before Iolaus joins us."

Hercules had been listening with growing horror. "Little problem...? Oh no, no. You can't do that. I'm not going to let you do that to Iolaus."

"Hercules. It is a shock at first, I know, but the eunuchs, they get used to it and they are quite happy after. It is an honor and a privilege to be chosen to serve the wives of the prince and well they know it. I take very good care of my people."

Hercules glared at him. "There is no way I, or my brother, will let this happen, so you can just scratch out this new bargain of yours and let us be on our way."

"We are a long way from Greece, demigod, and I hardly think your brother would send his army up against mine on behalf of one man." Ahmad said, his eyes growing cold again. He picked up the scroll that was lying between them, rolling it, tying it with a leather thong and slammed it onto the table in front of Hercules. "The deal is made." And with that he turned and strode out of the room.

Samira turned to him after the door had closed behind her husband. "I'm sorry, Hercules. I've tried to reason with him, but he's not ready to listen. He is the law here, you understand; no one questions him, and he doesn't understand the fuss over what he sees as one inconsequential man."

"Sounds like some of my relatives," Hercules muttered. He picked up the scroll and tucked it into his belt. "It's not your fault, and thanks for trying." His pack was still lying on the floor where he had left it earlier and he snagged it, throwing it over his shoulder.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but I'll think of something."

"And I'll keep trying with Ahmad. He will come to his senses at some point, but it may be too late for Iolaus," she said. "Hercules?" she added as the demigod turned to leave, "if the worst should happen, Iolaus will be safe here, I promise, and if there is anything I can do to secure his freedom, I will do it."

"Thanks. But Iolaus won't be staying." Hercules nodded grimly and left.

He was just rounding the corner into the main street, hurrying to get back to the caravan, when a large man running full tilt from the opposite direction barreled into him.

The man muttered an apology in Berber and then switched to Greek when he saw whom he had run into. "Oh Hercles, tank gods. I find you."

"Hajoli?" Hercules exclaimed with a stab of fear. Hajoli's face was red from running and tears streaked his swarthy cheeks, wetting his bushy beard. A purpling bruise was forming under one eye. "Has something happened to Iolaus?"

"Oh, Hercles, I sorry. Prince men come. Tear place apart. Find Iolaus. No can stop. We must find before they cut off head. Come." And he started off up the avenue toward the palace.

"His head is not what they are after," Hercules said dryly, stepping in front of the camel driver and putting out an arm to stop him. "Do you know where they would take him?"

"Prison under palace, I show you." He started to push past Hercules.

"Wait. Where is the entrance to the prison."

"Dere. Round corner, on side." Hajoli nodded toward the left hand path that led around the palace.

"Can we get there without being seen?"

Hajoli thought for a moment and nodded again. "Come. Dis way."

He turned back onto the road, and led Hercules onto another street and then into a narrow alley that ended in a small courtyard. Behind a row of thick shrubs rose the high walls of the palace. Crouching low and peering through the shrubbery, Hercules could see a narrow stairway leading to a door set into the palace wall below ground level. Two bored looking guards stood at the top of the steps, one on each side.

"Dis it." Hajoli whispered. "We go. Take out guards. Rescue fren' Iolaus." The gleam of battle shone from his soft brown eyes.

"No," Hercules laid a hand on the camel driver's shoulder. "You've done enough. You're a good friend, Hajoli, but you have to live around here. You could get into a lot of trouble helping us. I have to do this alone."

Hajoli looked disappointed. "But can you?" he asked.

"Sure." Hercules grinned. "Haven't you heard? I'm Hercules, the son of Zeus. The strongest man in the world. I'm undefeated."

"Yeah, but..." Hajoli was not convinced.

"I can do this." Hercules said seriously. "Believe me, this is not the first time I've had to rescue Iolaus from his own folly."

"Now dat," Hajoli said, grinning broadly, "I can believe. Hokay. I go. Tink some more 'bout how get you out of Alkazar But be careful, hokay?"

"Okay," And Hajoli was gone, leaving Hercules alone.

After discarding several options, aware that time was something he didn't have, Hercules decided the frontal approach was his best plan. He slipped out of the shrubbery in front of the startled guards and walked up to them, smiling.

"Hi fellers, Nice day."

They exchanged looks; neither understood a word, but when he tried to stroll casually past them, they drew their scimitars and blocked his way. He stopped and put out his hands to show them he was unarmed.

"Guys, I really do have to get in there." So swiftly they had no time to react, he grabbed each one by the front of his tunic, smashed their heads together and then let go, watching them drop unconscious to the ground. "Ow. Sorry."

He stepped over the bodies and ran down the steps. The door was locked but that delayed him for only the few moments it took him to rip it off its hinges. He dashed through quickly, braced for an attack from the other side, but there was no one in sight.

'Must be dinnertime'. He moved quickly but warily through the guardroom and into a corridor lined with closed doors. He opened one cautiously and found a small room with three barred cells along the inside walls. They were all empty. Hoping that Iolaus was being kept in a cell behind one of the doors, he opened the next, trusting to luck that he wouldn't blunder into another guard before he found his friend. The second room was empty, also.

'Third times the charm' he thought as he pushed open the third door and indeed it was. The first thing he saw was Iolaus' face from behind bars light up when he saw the demigod at the door, and the second, the guard, who had been sprawled in a chair with his feet up on a small table, jump up in alarm, his mouth open, ready to shout for help. Hercules clipped him neatly behind the ear and the man crumpled to the floor.

Not finding any keys handy and not wanting to take time to look for them, Hercules simply removed the door of the cell and Iolaus.stepped out.

"Well, that was one of our quicker jailbreaks," he observed with a grin.

"We're not out of here yet, smart-ass. Let's move." Hercules led the way to the door and peered out. There was no one in sight. They ran through the guardroom, through the door and stopped short. A guard stood over the unconscious bodies of his comrades, staring down at them, scimitar drawn. He gave a yell and charged down the steps, but Hercules, ducking under the sword, simply reached up and grabbed the man's legs, pulling him off his feet. The man fell backward, smacking his head sharply against the stone step. Followed closely by Iolaus, the demi-god sprang up the steps, only to see a horde of guards, all armed, all shouting, pour around the corner of the palace.

"Think they're telling us to stop?" Iolaus asked.

"No doubt about it."

"Well, fight or flight?"

"Are you kidding?" Hercules grabbed Iolaus by the wrist, pulled him through the shrubbery and into the courtyard beyond. Just guessing and wishing he had Hajoli to guide them, Hercules took what seemed to be the best direction and ran. The street twisted and grew even narrower. They turned into alleys that led into courtyards that they sprinted through into more streets until they would have been hopelessly lost even if they had known where they were going. And behind them, spreading out in an ever-widening circle, they could hear the excited voices of the prince's guards.

Pausing for breath in the shadow of a building, Hercules looked down at his partner. Their only hope seemed to be to find a hiding place for Iolaus and then let the guards capture him. Now if he could only convince Iolaus. Knowing he had a fight on his hands, he began, "Iolaus..."

"Hsst."

Hercules looked up startled and Iolaus nearly jumped out his skin. A tall, dark-robed figure stood in the shadows on the other side of the street. A pale hand snaked out from the sleeve and pushed the hood back to reveal the auburn hair and anxious face of Samira. She was puffing slightly as if she had been running.

"Sam..." Iolaus began, but she put her finger to her lips and swiftly crossed the street. Motioning them to follow her, she slipped around the corner of the building. Carefully making no noise, they allowed her to lead them between two buildings, which opened into another alley and then into a deserted side street. As they moved along through streets that grew ever more empty of buildings, the sounds of the guards faded into the distance. Frowning, Hercules thought they were headed back in the direction of the palace, but decided to rely on Hajoli's conviction that Samira could be trusted.

Finally, she stepped off the road and into the brush, pushing her way through, taking care not to break the branches and leave a sign of their passing. Iolaus followed easily, but Hercules had a great deal of difficulty pushing his bulk through the thicket without leaving a trail. Not for the first time, he could see distinct advantages in being Iolaus' size.

A building loomed up in front of them and Samira stopped, waiting for the men to catch up. She crouched, pulled aside a small bush that grew next to the building revealing an opening that led under it. "In here, quickly," she whispered.

Iolaus passed through easily, but Hercules had to squeeze his body through, scraping his shoulders against the sides, and humiliatingly aware of how comical he must look to Samira as he wiggled his butt to force it through the opening.

But when he finally made it and turned to face her, she had pressed her face close to the opening, any amusement she might have felt, overshadowed by worry, "Stay here." She said in a low voice. "I will come back tonight. Be very quiet, speak low; there are people above."

"Did you bring any food?" Iolaus whispered hopefully, peeking around Hercules' shoulder.

For the first time, Samira grinned and her eyes were full of laughter. "Trust me, Iolaus. In here, you won't want it. Stay near the walls." And she was gone, the brush springing back into place.

"What do you suppose she meant by that?" Hercules asked.

Iolaus sniffed the air. "I don't know, but hey, it really stinks in here."

Hercules sniffed and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah. So where do you think we are?"

"I'm not sure. I lost my sense of direction, but it seemed like we were heading back toward the rear of the palace."

"That's what I thought, too."

A sudden loud scraping noise like something wooden being dragged across the floor above startled them. A round hole appeared in the center of the floor, dimly lit from the room above and a flood of foul smelling water poured through it, splattering into what appeared to be a shallow well. As the scuttle was being pulled back into place, they could hear a very distinct giggle.

"Oh, oh, I recognize that sound." Iolaus said.

"It seems that we are under the seraglio."

"We are under the potty-room of the seraglio," Iolaus corrected him.

"Well, you've got to admit, it's not likely the guards will look for us here. Now we know why Samira told us to stay near the wall."

"Uh huh." Iolaus shifted around looking for a comfortable spot as far from the reeking catchbasin as he could get. Hercules settled in next to him and they leaned back, prepared for a long wait. The foundation behind them was solid, as was the one directly across, but the two sides were supported by stone footings interspersed with latticework, screened by low shrubs that let in a greenish filtered sunlight; not enough to really see much by, but enough to soften the gloom.

They sat in silence for a long while, listening to the sounds above, the tap-tap of sandals on the floor, the faraway murmur of voices and the occasional shrill girlish burble of laughter.

"Those girls sure giggle a lot."

"You didn't seem to mind earlier."

"Yeah, but then I thought it was for me, but now.well, they just giggle...all the time."

"A nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there?"

"Gods, no."

"Then we'd better hope we get out of this mess you've landed us in."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

Iolaus waited, but Hercules wasn't going to explain so he changed the subject. "Do you notice, Herc, how many trees and plants there are here? Considering we're in a desert, after all?"

"Uh huh, Ahmad told me this place used to be an oasis with a spring that never ran dry. Alkazar was built right over it. Plenty of water here."

The scuttle was dragged aside again and another torrent of water poured through the hole. "Good thing," Iolaus remarked, "considering how much of it ends up down here. Phew," he added as the odor from the basin, stirred by the new infusion, reached his nose, "I'll never look at pretty girls the same way again."

He could feel Hercules next to him shaking with silent laughter. "What! Iolaus, the studmuffin of Thebes is going to give up women?"

"You betcha. From now on it's hunting, fishing, bar room brawls, monster fighting, wars, the kind of stuff that doesn't land you in real trouble. Guy stuff, you know." he stopped as Hercules put a warning hand on his arm.

From outside, they could hear the murmur of many voices. Some loud and angry, others low, frightened, some crying softly. Over it all, they could hear the angry voice of Samira, speaking in Berber.

"The guards are back." Hercules whispered. Through the bushes screening the latticework, they could dimly see the black-clad legs moving about the garden. Hercules looked around, assessing their situation. It was gloomy under the latrine, but they were dressed in light colored clothing and if one of the guards should peek through the lattice, it was possible he might see them. Especially Iolaus with his light blue garments and bright yellow hair.

"Get down," he whispered and Iolaus, understanding instantly, curled onto his side, making himself as small as possible, and Hercules curled over him, letting his long brown hair fall over both of their faces. That left his own yellow jerkin and he hoped that was dull enough to blend into the shadows.

But no one peeked in. Hercules watched, peering through the curtain of his hair, as shadows moved across the lattice. There was much yelling and thumping from above as the guards searched the seraglio once again. Samira's voice could be heard occasionally, alternatingly scolding the guards and consoling the frightened young women. Finally, another voice, loud and commanding, Ahmad's voice, cut through the chaos, and the shouting ceased almost instantly. Hercules smiled; apparently Ahmad's guards had overstepped their authority.

He felt Iolaus squirm beneath him and looked down. The hunter craned his neck and gave the demigod a mischievous smile and Hercules felt a surge of protective affection for him mingled with real worry for what would become of him if he should fall into Prince Ahmad's hands again. He regretted the harsh words he had spoken earlier. Iolaus could have had no reason to suspect that accepting a simple invitation to lunch would trigger such a bazaar set of circumstances. Hercules listened as the noises from above ceased and was oddly comforted by the fact that Samira was near. He knew, somehow, that she would not betray them.

When all had been quiet for several long minutes, he sat up, and Iolaus groaning a little and stretching his cramped muscles, feeling a bit squished, rolled into a sitting position..

"I'm sorry, Iolaus."

"That's okay, Herc, better squashed than beheaded."

"No, I mean, for getting mad at you.before.back at the caravan, and the things I said. You did nothing wrong and I was out of line."

"Oh that," Iolaus shrugged. "That's okay, Herc. I had it coming. I should have been more careful"

"It wasn't your fault. These things just sort of happen to you. I should be used to it by now."

"Wish I knew why. We can't even blame this one on your relatives."

Hercules snorted and the two leaned back against the wall and resumed their wait patiently. The light filtering in from the lattices was dimming as the day drew to a close. Iolaus fell asleep, his head pillowed on Hercules' shoulder. Minutes dragged by slowly, becoming hours. Once more, the scuttle was pulled aside and water sloshed to the ground, causing Iolaus to start in his sleep, but not awaken. Darkness fell quickly as it did in the desert and in the room above the quiet sounds of normal activity gradually ceased.

Hercules waited, unmoving, letting Iolaus get some rest while he could. He, himself, dozed fitfully and than fell into a light sleep from which he awoke with a start, rousing Iolaus from his slumbers, and feeling as if the night were already well advanced.

Iolaus yawned and said groggily, "Are we still here? Where's Samira?"

"I don't know," Hercules answered worriedly, hoping nothing had gone dreadfully wrong.

He was just deciding whether or not they should try to make a break for the caravan, when there was a rustle at the opening and Samira's voice came to them, whispering softly. "Hercules. Iolaus."

They scrambled to the opening and squeezed through. She was waiting, again dressed in the dark, hooded robe, two large waterskins slung over her shoulder, a worried frown on her face. At her feet lay a bundle and two weapons, Iolaus' broadsword and a scimitar with a silver hilt. She motioned for silence, so Hercules hoisted up the bundle, Iolaus picked up the swords, and they followed her back through the brush and onto the lane. She turned right going in the direction they had been headed when they left it earlier and giving the seraglio a wide berth.

She soon stepped off onto a path that led through an orchard, leaving the city and all signs of habitation behind. The moon had set, but the desert sky was clear and spangled with stars that lit their way. They hadn't gone far when Hercules looked back at Iolaus, who was bringing up the rear, and cocked an eyebrow. The hunter nodded and Hercules reached out to tap Samira lightly on the shoulder.

"There are people behind the trees watching us," he whispered.

She turned and smiled, looking from one man to the other, her face pale in the starlight. "You're good. Don't worry, they are friends," and added, seeing their doubtful faces, "I have loyal friends here. They will watch and warn us if anybody comes."

Satisfied, they followed her until the path ended by a stonewall several feet over Hercules' head. Samira turned, the worried frown apparent on her face again.

"Ahmad is watching the caravans, convinced that you will try to escape with one of them. Two have already left. Ahmad's guards will accompany them until they are satisfied that you cannot possibly escape from the city and catch up with them. Another is due to leave soon. Hajoli will leave at dawn." She stopped, obviously distressed.

"So what's the plan?" Hercules asked after exchanging a bewildered glance with his partner when she didn't go on.

Instead of answering, she looked at him earnestly. "Hercules, the stories they tell about you. Your strength, that you are undefeated. Are they all true?"

"Well," Hercules laughed, embarrassed, "Not all."

"Hercules, this is no time for modesty," she said. "I cannot in good conscience send you into the valley without knowing that you stand an excellent chance of surviving. Is it true you have fought monsters?"

"Yeah, sure," Iolaus decided it was time to put in his two dinars worth, "we do monsters...what valley?"

Samira sighed. "The name would mean nothing to you in Berber, but it translates loosely as the Valley of the Evil Things."

"The Valley of the...Evil...Things? Wow." He grinned, "this is starting to sound more and more like home."

"Maybe, you'd better explain the whole plan to us." Hercules folded his arms across his chest, "from the beginning."

She nodded, setting down the heavy waterskins and began. "As I said, the caravans are guarded. All roads out of the city are being watched. When Ahmad doesn't find you, he will think you are still hiding in the city. It will take days to search every building, every possible hiding place and that should buy you enough time to get away. Hajoli's caravan will pass a half a day's walk north of the valley. You must cross it to meet up with him. By that time Ahmad's guards should have turned back to Alkazar. If not Hajoli will find a way to warn you."

"And we can't go around this valley?"

"It's much too far and there's no water. From here go northwest, the rest of tonight and tomorrow. There you will find a small oasis. Be very careful, Ahmad may send someone to guard it, but I think not. If he does, you will have to wait until they leave. If they don't leave..." she faltered, "please, you won't kill them. I feel as if I am betraying my husband as it is, I would never forgive myself if..."

"Don't worry," Hercules assured her, "we don't intend to kill anyone."

She relaxed. "If they don't leave you will have to devise your own plan for getting past them."

Iolaus grinned, "Herc's the plan man, I'm the doer. Don't worry, we always come up with something."

She smiled and said, "I believe it." And added then seriously, "you must not enter the valley without water. There will be no more until you find the caravan. The valley begins an hour's walk from the oasis, and you must begin your journey across it at first light. It's a full day of traveling and you must not be caught out there after dark. You will not be able to see the monsters and there's no place to hide from them."

Hercules blew out a long breath. "You'd better tell us a little more about these monsters."

"Personally, I know nothing, but I have been told that there are things that live under the sand, that they leap out at travelers and devour them." She swallowed nervously

"Like sand sharks." Iolaus exclaimed, "We've done sand sharks."

"Oh yes, indeed." Hercules rolled his eyes, "and we barely escaped with our lives."

"But hey, we didn't have swords then," he held them up for Hercules' inspection. "Piece of cake."

"The scimitar belongs to Hajoli." Samira told them. "It is a measure of his regard for you that he sent it. It is his most prized possession."

Hercules smiled then. "Then we shall have to see that we get it back to him." His face grew serious again. "You said the sharks live only in this valley. What keeps them from leaving."

"No one knows for certain, but it is believed that the monsters live in tunnels beneath the ground. In the valley the sand is very dense, heavy, but when the monsters try to tunnel in the softer sand outside, their tunnels collapse on them. It is the only explanation anyone has come up with. So you are going, then?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"Well, I might be able to find a place to hide you until another caravan comes or Ahmad comes to his senses."

"Where? Under the outhouse," Iolaus laughed. "No thanks, we'll take our chances with the sand sharks."

They gathered up the equipment and Samira led them to a tree that grew to the top of the wall. They were half-way up when they realized she was climbing up behind them.

"Need a hand?"

She grinned at them. "Hajoli taught me how to climb trees when I was barely able to walk."

Iolaus reached the fork of the tree and climbed out onto the top of the wall, still chuckling at the image of the big, clumsy Hajoli as a tree-climber. Hercules followed and Samira settled herself in the fork, looking out over the silent starlit desert. "I come up here often on clear nights," she said. "The desert is so peaceful, so beautiful and serene. If I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I think I can even smell the sea." Her eyes were a little sad and Iolaus wondered if she were as content with her chosen lot as she said she was.

Whatever memories stirred within her, she shook them off and leaned over the wall, surveying the desert beyond "You remember the direction?" she asked.

"Yep,' Iolaus answered, "northwest to the oasis, north to the valley, straight across and north again, straight on 'til morning."

"Right. The most dangerous part, now, will be getting out of sight of the city without being seen. See that dune," she pointed at a hill of sand a little way to the northwest. "Get behind that as quickly as you can and stay low. You will find two jalabiyya in the pack along with Iolaus' things and enough food for three days. There's enough water here," she tapped the skins that were now resting across the demigod's shoulder, "to last until you get to the oasis. Drink it all, don't scrimp, you can't afford to start dehydrating. Drink as much as you can at the oasis and don't forget to refill the skins. There'll be no more water until you reached Hajoli. It will be a near thing. The valley is very hot and very dry and you will lose fluid quickly."

"Samira," Iolaus asked, suddenly worried for her, "are you sure you won't be in trouble over this?"

She smiled, dimpling, "Life is often dull here. This is the best adventure I've had for a long time."

Hercules grinned up at her from where he was securing their gear for the leap into the desert. "Then we thank you, Samira, for all you've done. We owe you big and if there is ever a time when you need help, send a message to us through my brother in Corinth."

Iolaus leaned over to kiss her lightly on the cheek and the two men prepared to jump.

"Oh, look out for the..."she began, but they were already airborne. Hercules landed on his feet, his boots gripping the slippery sand. But bare-footed Iolaus slid, falling backward and landing in something extremely prickly A lot of prickly somethings that tore through his thin trousers and pierced his backside.

"Ooooo!" He opened his mouth, ready to howl in pain, but Hercules quickly clamped a hand over it.

"...the goathead." Samira finished lamely above their heads, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry."

"The what?" Hercules whispered harshly, gripping the struggling Iolaus tightly.

"Goathead." She pointed down at the nasty-looking plant that Iolaus had landed on. "You'll have to pull the stickers out, but first you have to get out of sight. Hurry."

Hercules looked down at his partner, who had gone limp. "You all over the urge to yell."

Iolaus nodded, his eyes watering from pain, and Hercules loosened his grip. "Can you run?"

"Are you kidding, Herc?" the hunter gasped. "I can't even walk. Oh, gods, that hurts."

Hercules groaned, shifted the waterskins high on his shoulder, gathered up their gear in one hand, and grabbing Iolaus around the waist, tucked him under the other arm and ran for the dune, Samira's whispered goodbye following him on the night breeze, mingling with Iolaus' soft moans when jostling made the stickers bite deeper into his flesh.

He dived over the top of the dune as low as his burdens would allow to minimize his exposure to the skyline and landed sprawling on the other side, safely out of sight of the city and unintentionally burying Iolaus' face in the sand. The hunter came up sputtering, but remembered not to yell at Hercules and settled for a filthy look.

Hercules grinned at him, unrepentant, and dropping their equipment, he scurried on his hands and knees to the top of the dune and peered over. The city lay silent and dark; no lights were being kindled, no voices raised in alarm. He could see Samira's face, tiny and pale like a piece of golden fruit, hanging from the tree where they had left her. One small arm appeared and waved, and then vanished along with her face. He blew out a breath, apparently they had gotten away unseen.

"Hey, Herc. Hurting down here." Hercules looked back; Iolaus was lying on his stomach, his face a grimace of pain.

Hercules backed down the slope, keeping his head low and crouched down beside the hunter.

"Can you see them?" Iolaus whispered.

The stars gave off enough light that Hercules could easily see the four big grayish burrs that clung to the seat of the loose blue pants, piercing Iolaus' flesh in some very tender places. His pants were badly ripped and blood, black in the dim light, was oozing from the tears.

"Yeah, hold still, I'm going to pull them out." He grasp one and being careful not to jab his own hand, he gave it a yank with an upward motion so as not to break off the stickers. Iolaus gave a pained yelp. "Damn, that hurt. How big is that thing anyway?" Hercules tossed the sticker by the hunter's head so he could get a good look. "Oh gods, how many of them are there?"

"Just three more. Hold still."

"Only three. Feels like a hundred.,,ow!" he groaned as Hercules pulled out a second one.

"Making way too much noise, there, pal." Hercules said, unsympathetically. "They'll hear you all the way to town. Try suffering in silence."

The hunter snarled in response and gritted his teeth as Hercules gently eased out the last two stickers. The blue pants were hopelessly matted with dozens of sharp broken twigs from the tangled brush Iolaus had landed in. "The pants are ruined, let's get these off you." Hercules grasped the waistband and started to ease them down over the hunter's hips.

"Here? Now? Can't you at least wait until we get to the oasis." Iolaus snorted, giggling in spite of the pain.

Hercules grinned and gave the pants a quick tug that tore them into two pieces.

"Ow...ooo" Iolaus flinched, snorting with laughter, "That's twice today I've had my pants yanked off by someone else and it's not even my birthday."

"Exactly. And that's why we're here on the desert in the middle of nowhere in trouble again instead of tucked up in our beds at the inn getting a good night's sleep." Hercules had unwrapped the bundle that Samira had given them and was pawing through its contents.

"Sorry" Iolaus propped his chin on his hand. "And I want to thank, you, Herc." He said sincerely, "for going to all this trouble to save my head."

Hercules snorted. Iolaus sounded sorry, but his blue eyes were still bright with mischief. "It's not your head, they're after." Hercules said absently. He had picked up a leather-bound packet that had fallen out of the folds of Iolaus' vest and was examining the contents. "Hey, Samira sent a medical kit."

"What...?"

But Hercules cut him off, "We don't have time to prepare herbs, but here's a bottle of something that might help the pain." He uncorked it sniffed and shrugged. "Olive oil. Can't hurt" Bending over Iolaus, he began to rub the oil into the torn flesh. Iolaus shook with laughter. "Now what?' Hercules asked, irritably.

"I was just thinking what anyone seeing us like this would think."

"You would." But Hercules was grinning. "There. Done. Does that feel better?"

"No, It just feels oily. Why would she send olive oil?" Hercules shrugged as he pushed the cork back into the bottle. Iolaus gave him a lop-sided grin. "You know, maybe she got entirely the wrong idea about our relationship."

"Doesn't everybody? Do you think you can wear your pants?"

"Gods, no."

"Okay, just put on the jalabiyya." He tossed one of the robes at the hunter. "And here's your boots." Iolaus pushed his arms in the sleeves of the robe, rolled over and sat up to pull on his boots, hissing with pain as his backside came in contact with the rough fabric.

"Need any help?"

"Nah, I've been dressing myself since I was two. But thanks for the thought."

Hercules snorted. He had pulled on his own robe and was now repacking their gear, making sure it was secure for their journey. Iolaus stood up gingerly and took a few steps.

"You okay?" Hercules asked worriedly, "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, little sore, but I can manage."

Hercules handed Iolaus his sword and the waterskins, hoisted the pack over his own shoulder and picked up the scimitar "Well then, find our direction, oh mighty tracker, and let's be off."

Iolaus scanned the night sky to the north and to the west until he found the stars he sought. "Okay, got it." He led off with Hercules following. Beyond the stars, the sky was pitch black, dawn still an hour or so away.The night breezes stirred up the sand wiping out all traces of their passage. They set a moderate pace wanting to put plenty of distance between themselves and the city in case some early riser should walk out upon the desert and catch sight of them.

Iolaus shivered in his jalabiyya. "How can a place be so damned hot during the day and so damned cold at night."

Hercules chuckled. "And when the sun is beating down on your head at high noon tomorrow, you'll be complaining about the heat."

When the stars faded in the gradually lightening sky, they were miles from Alkazar and when the rising sun chased away the last shadows of night, Iolaus surveyed the empty desert stretching out in all directions as far as the eye could see, silent except for the faint hissing of the ever shifting sand. "Creepy" he muttered, missing the sounds, sights and smells of the awakening day at home. "I wonder why Hajoli loves it so much."

Hercules laughed. "If Hajoli woke up one morning in the middle of a Grecian forest, the noise would drive him crazy."

"He'd get used to it. Waking up in the morning to the chirping of birds in a cool forest, taking a dip in a clear lake, throwing in a line and pulling out a couple of fish for breakfast." He sighed, "that's the life."

Hercules laughed. "Stop it. You're making me homesick."

They paused briefly for a small breakfast and a few sips of water, not wanting to spend anymore time than necessary resting as they didn't know for certain how much distance they would need to cover that day. And that day wore on slowly. They kept up a fast pace, all the while scanning the desert in every direction for any sign of pursuers. But they saw no one and no thing stirred in the ever-increasing heat as the sun rose to its zenith.

Hercules made sure Iolaus drank plenty of water. He, himself, seemed less affected by the relentless heat. Another perk of being a demigod, he guessed. But he remembered Samira's warning to be sure they were well-hydrated before entering the Valley of the Evil Things. 'Sandsharks', he thought glumly, 'we could have stayed home and done sandsharks.'

The sun was still several hours from the horizon when they saw ahead and to their right a small patch of bright green in the dull landscape. They paused not wanting to get within eyesight of anyone who might be occupying the oasis. To their left and much closer to the green patch lay a series of dunes. They headed in that direction until the oasis was hidden behind the rising terrain and then made their way forward. When they reached the hill they judged to be nearest the oasis, they climbed to the crest and keeping their heads down, peered over. As they had hoped this dune gave them a clear view of the oasis; a small grove of palm trees surrounding a tiny spring of clear water.

"Oh, oh, camels" Iolaus was peeking over the top with the hood of his robe pulled well down over his face so that to anyone looking in their direction he would appear part of the dune itself.

"No horses?" Hercules' eyes scanned the oasis, but could only make out a few camels and maybe a dozen brown-robed figures, unnaturally small in the distance. "Not Ahmad's men, then." Ahmad's guards, to the best of their knowledge wore black tunics and headgear. "Probably just a passing caravan. But we'd better not risk letting them see us. If they are heading toward Alkazar and report meeting two foreigners on the oasis, Ahmad's no fool. He'll guess where we are headed and will certainly be waiting for us on the other side of the valley." Hercules pushed himself away from the peak of the dune and rolled over on his back.

Iolaus joined him. "So what's the plan?" He shook the waterskins. "We still have half our water, but that wouldn't be enough to get us to Hajoli. I'm already feeling a little dry."

"Drink all you want, then. Don't worry, we won't leave here without getting more water even if we have to risk approaching caravan. But we may not have to. They've stopped here now and it looks like they've been here a while. My guess is that they plan to travel at night."

"Hope you're right."

"When am I ever wrong?" Hercules grinned at his partner.

Iolaus punched him playfully on the arm, passed him the waterskin and settled down comfortably on the sand preparing for a long wait. "Herc?"

"Um," Hercules had rolled on his side and closed his eyes, planning a nap. "Your first watch."

"Herc?" the hunter persisted. "What did you mean by 'it's not your head they're after'?"

"Oh that," Hercules yawned and burrowed deeper into the sand, covering his head with his hood. "You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do." Iolaus insisted. "What could be worse than losing my head?"

"For most people, nothing. But for you..." Hercules snorted.

"Aw, come on Herc, I have a right to know."

Hercules rolled over and sat up. "Alright," he said, "Obviously, you're not going to let me sleep until I tell you. Remember in the seraglio, there were a lot of male servants...slaves?"

"Yeah?"

"Ahmad insisted that he be allowed to buy you because his ladies thought you were so cute and wanted you to come live with them."

"That was it? That's why we're out here in the desert prepared to fight off hordes of maneating sandsharks if we don't die of thirst first? Couldn't you just say no?"

"No wasn't the answer that Ahmad wanted to hear."

"Well, then, why didn't you just go along with it and then rescue me at some opportune moment? In the meantime, I could be enjoying a little bit of well-deserved pampering."

"I don't think so. There's more."

"Isn't there always? What?"

"The male slaves. Well, they were all...Ahmad couldn't allow them to, you know."

"Know what?'

Hercules sighed. Iolaus wasn't usually this dim. "Eunuchs, Iolaus. They were all eunuchs."

"Ohhh!" Iolaus' mouth dropped open as realization sunk in. "You mean, he was going to...to me?

"By the gods, I think he's got it." Hercules settled back on the sand with a grin. A little needling was definitely in order. "Let this be a lesson to you," he began in his best lecture tone. "Use this time productively, reflect on your sinful life. If it hadn't have been for your little bath, if you had kept your pants laced up as you should have done, none of this would have happened. I could have easily convinced Ahmad that I had had you castrated years ago so you wouldn't spray on the furniture. I'm a demigod, known for my veracity and integrity; he wouldn't even have bothered to check. We would now be enjoying a leisurely camel ride to Cyrene. You and Hajoli could be digging out some more lame jokes to entertain us with and...ow!" The pack hit him smartly on the shoulder.

"Just be glad it wasn't your head." Iolaus growled.

"Now that you know all, can I get some sleep?" complained the demigod, "and you'd better check on our company. If they come charging toward the dunes on their camels, wake me."

"And then what? There's no place to run, no place to hide."

"Run? Hide?" Hercules open one eye and looked at his friend. "Haven't we done enough of that these past two days. My self-esteem is at an all-time low."

Iolaus snorted. "Okay, then. There's two of us and two swords. About twelve of them with camels and probably armed with scimitars. Good odds. I 'll take them. I need a good workout anyway. I might not even need you."

"Good, so don't wake me unless you do. But don't get your hopes up, they're probably just peaceful traders passing through." Hercules yawned and settled back for his long-delayed nap.

Peering over the dune again, Iolaus surveyed the little camp. Most of the tiny figures were resting on the ground, a few were moving about. The tethered camels browsed quietly, munching on the sparse grasses. Hercules was most likely right; they would not have stopped so early, if they hadn't planned to travel later by the cooler light of the moon.

The caravan still showed no signs of moving on when Hercules awakened an hour later. There were about two hours of daylight left when Iolaus settled into the nest his partner had burrowed in the sand for his own turn to sleep while Hercules kept watch. Finally, just as the sun was approaching the horizon, the camp began to stir. The small figures were purposefully moving between the spring and their camels. Filling the water kegs in preparation of continuing their journey, Hercules guessed and grinned. Within minutes, the small caravan was ready to leave. The camels were mounted and rose to their feet, falling into their accustomed places in the train. Hercules nudged Iolaus awake. "They're leaving. They're headed southeast toward Alkazar."

Iolaus grinned. "Good thing we didn't make their acquaintance then. Now, if asked, they'll report that there was no one at the oasis and Ahmad won't look for us here."

"Let's hope they ask."

They waited until the caravan was just a line of dots in the sand before leaving their vantage point. Even then, they skidded down the backside of the dune and skirted around the base, just in case a pair of sharp eyes should look back. From the desert floor they couldn't see the caravan at all.

The oasis was very small, just a ring of palm trees and bushes surrounding a tiny waterhole hardly bigger than a well. Iolaus scooped up a handful of water, expecting it to be warm and slightly brackish and was surprised to find it cool and sweet.

Hercules, kneeling on the other side, peered into the well. The water was crystal clear, but he couldn't see the bottom. "Must be coming straight up from a deep underground spring. Lucky break for us."

"Uh-huh. I'm for a very short dip. How about you?. Although I think we'll have to get in one at a time."

"Iolaus, where's your social conscience. You want to foul up the waterhole? I've got a better idea." The demigod pushed himself to his feet. "Take off your clothes, all of them, boots, too."

"Again?

Grinning, Hercules picked up a cracked discarded wooden bucket and dipped it in the spring. Before Iolaus had time to strip off the blue tunic, he was thoroughly doused with cold water.

"Oh, wow, that feels good." Iolaus laughed with delight, turning around and around in the sand as Hercules threw more water at him before handing him the bucket.

"My turn," and he quickly stripped off his own clothes. The water felt wonderful after a hot day in the sun. They took turns dousing each other until it grew dark and the air began to cool. They dressed; Iolaus putting on his own familiar clothes with a sigh. Now he felt like himself again. They made a meal of a third of their food, saving another third for the morning. The last third they packed away for the next night. "Providing we make it across the valley," Iolaus said, teasing, not serious.

"Having second thoughts?"

"Hmmm. Well, let's see. I can go back to Alkazar and live as a eunuch in a harem of beautiful women, being pampered and petted, all my wishes their commands, all but one, anyway, or I can strike out across a godsforsaken wasteland and battle a horde of killer sandsharks. And even if I defeat them, I may become hopelessly lost in the desert and die an agonizing death from hunger and thirst."

"And your decision is?"

"Do you have to ask? When we're having so much fun here?"

Hercules chuckled and began gathering up their equipment. "Let's refill our waterskins now and bed down behind the trees on the north side. If there should be some night time visitors, we might be able to slip away without being seen."

"Good plan. I slept last, I'm first watch."

"Okay, but don't let me sleep too long. We have to leave before light to make it to the edge of the valley by dawn and I want you well rested."

They found a spot where they were hidden from the spring, but where they could look through the screen of shrubs and get a fairly clear view of the area around the waterhole. Wrapped in their jalabayyi against the growing cold, they settled down. Hercules fell asleep instantly and Iolaus rolled on his stomach, the better to watch the moonlit clearing. The hours passed uneventfully as the moon crawled across the sky. The night grew colder, but Iolaus was warm inside his heavy robe. He yawned, thinking it was about time to wake up Hercules, when he felt the demigod stir beside him. He woke quickly and sat up, shaking the sleep from his brain and looked over at his partner.

"All quiet. My turn." Iolaus said with a grin, wrapped himself snugly in his robe and curled up against the demigod's side.

"G'night."

"Mmmph," Iolaus was already more than half asleep.

Nothing stirred under the silent sky and there was no sound on the desert but the hunter's gentle snores as Hercules kept watch, thinking about tomorrow and what they might be facing. And as light as Iolaus made of what lay ahead, he knew his partner was very uneasy, too. Well, he was the 'plan man', so he'd better come up with something to raise the stakes in their favor. Stakes, hmm.

Moving carefully, so as not to jog the hunter, Hercules slid away from him and got to his feet. Iolaus protested mildly about the loss of his warm nesting partner.

"Nature call?" he mumbled.

"Yeah," Hercules grinned. He had known he couldn't get away without waking Iolaus. The guy had all senses tuned, awake or asleep. Sometimes he wondered why they thought they needed a sentry anyway.

'The problem with oases' Hercules thought as he searched the clearing for what he needed, 'is that they don't support a lot of hard wood.' Most of the debris littering the ground was twigs and branches blown down by the wind, but in the shrubs away from the palms, he found what he wanted. The branches of the shrubs were thin and weak, but the trunks, while short, were quite sturdy. Hercules merely ripped two of them from the sand and stripped off the branches. Breaking off the bottoms where the roots sprang out and the narrow tops, he was left with a thick stick a little less than a meter long. 'Perfect.'

He slid back into the hollow under the robes. Iolaus immediately snuggled up against him sighing contentedly. Hercules squirmed until he was lying on his stomach, then quietly pulled out his knife and began to whittle the ends of his sticks into sharp points.

Iolaus felt as if he had just gotten back to sleep when Hercules was shaking him awake. The moon had set, but the sky was speckled with stars, illuminating the desert with eerie light.

"Too early," the hunter protested.

"We don't know for sure how long it will take us to reach the valley," Hercules answered. "Samira said about an hour, but we'd better give ourselves some elbow room. Come on, let's drink all the water we can. We can eat when we reach the valley."

"Okay," Iolaus agreed grumpily.

It was back in the clearing, while they were drinking their fill by the waterhole, that Iolaus noticed the sharpened sticks lying by their packs. "What are those for?"

"The sharks."

"You're going to fight the sharks with those? What are you going to use the sword for? Picking your teeth?"

"Just a little added insurance to buy us some time if we need it, in case we meet up with more than two at a time. Here," he slid one of the sticks into his belt and passed the other to his friend. "Don't lose it."

"Well, then, since we're souvenir hunting, I'll take this." Iolaus held aloft the battered bucket.

"It's cracked right across the bottom." He partner scoffed. "It won't hold water for more than a few minutes."

"Well, you never know when a bucket might come in handy." Iolaus answered unperturbed, hanging his prize over one arm and picking up the pack and his sword. "Ready to go?"

A little over an hour later, already having eaten their morning meal in the dark, they sat side by side at the top of a high dune overlooking the valley, watching the pre-dawn sky light up the world around them.

"I think I might just want to go back to Alkazar," Iolaus said.

The valley ran from east to west as far as they could see. It was nothing more than a great wind-scoured rift sunk into the desert. To the north and south it was edged by high hills of sand, and to the east they knew, the valley would end before it reached the caravan trails that ran to Alkazar. But in that direction Ahmad's guards would be looking for them. To the west, the valley widened and appeared endless. The pinking sky revealed no distant hills, nothing to break the utter flat monotony of the landscape. And it was the bleakest landscape either man had ever seen. The sand was dark and unwholesome-looking, and if they hadn't known better, they would have thought it wet. But the surface was cracked and broken by dry fissures, all the evidence they needed to know that at mid-day the sun, its rays trapped by the low terrain, would turn the valley into an oven.

Iolaus was examining the sand hills directly across from their position. "It doesn't look that far," he ventured hopefully.

"Distances are deceiving in the desert. Samira said a day's journey and she's been right about everything else." Hercules blew out a long breath and got up. "Well, unless you were serious about going back to Alkazar, we better get moving."

With Hercules in the lead, the two men worked their way down the sand dune, which ended in a low bluff where the soft sand of the desert met the harder surface of the valley. This they descended with some difficulty, kicking footholds into the side as they climbed down.

"Whew," Iolaus jumped the last few feet onto the valley floor, stamping his boots on the hard-packed surface. "What kind of a sandshark can tunnel his way through this stuff?"

"Yeah," Hercules was scanning the valley for any sign of movement. "I was thinking the same thing. At least it will make traveling easier." He turned to his partner, grinning, "Not too late to change your mind."

Iolaus grinned back, "Nah, I'd hate to think we came all this way without checking out the local fauna."

"Your call. But we'd better keep our swords handy. We don't know yet how much warning these things will give us when they do come."

"You mean if. For all we know they might be all vacationing at the other end of this godsforsaken place."

"Hold on to that thought, but don't count on it."

Two hours later they discovered just how much warning the creatures would give them. They had maintained a rapid pace, stopping occasionally only for a few swallows of water, remembering Samira's warning to complete the valley crossing before dark. The dunes behind them had receded into the distance, but the sand hills ahead seemed no closer, when they heard a rumbling coming from beneath the ground. The sounds, coming from two directions directly toward them, grew louder at an alarming pace and the two men stopped, swords ready. The sand on either side began to rise upward moving closer until two enormous beasts erupted above the surface, leaping high in the air in a trajectory that would bring them back to the sand at the spot where Hercules and Iolaus stood.

Both braced their feet, swords raised. Hercules took a long swipe at the creature's throat, the thin, razor-sharp scimitar slicing effortlessly through the monsters hide nearly severing its head. Iolaus took a two-handed chop at his attacker, the heavy blade of the broadsword biting deep and the creature fell from the air lifeless. They waited, listening, but the desert was silent.

"Whew," Iolaus wiped his bloody blade on the sand. "Well, at least, we know they'll give us plenty of advanced notice."

"Yeah, nice of them." Hercules was examining one of the dead creatures. It was larger than the sharks they had encountered in Greece. The flat body was more than five feet in diameter, narrowing to a long thin snout, ending in a hinged jaw lined with sharp pointed teeth. The scimitar had sliced through the head at the point where the body began to narrow, where its eyes set in bony sockets upon what might be considered its shoulders. The sand beneath was stained with thick, blackish blood that had jetted from the creature's body as it died.

"If they're all as easy as this, this will be a piece of cake."

"That depends on how smart they are. Don't underestimate them, they may come at in bigger numbers next time." He wiped the scimitar blade clean with a handful of sand. "Nice weapon. We'll have to remember to thank Hajoli." He switched the sword into his right hand, swinging it a little, liking its lightweight and easy balance. "Are you ready to go? I think we 'd better pick up our pace a little. You up for a little easy running?"

"Sure."

A few sips of water and they were on their way again, running lightly on the balls of their feet to minimize the noise. Hercules let Iolaus set pace, not wanting to tire the hunter too early; he had a feeling they would need all their wits about them to survive this journey.

But Iolaus was capable of running long distances at this easy pace without tiring in the least even in this heat. The sun was past its zenith and they had run nearly non-stop, pausing only briefly to listen and to drink from the waterskins, when the next attack came. At first it seemed a replay of the first attack; the two men stood back to back as the rumbling grew and the sand erupted as before and as before two flashing blades dispatched the creatures, but as Iolaus' blade sliced through the shark's neck and around, throwing him slightly off-balance, the ground again erupted, this time so close that it knocked him backward, and he fell hard, his sword, loosened from his grip, skittered across the hard-packed sand.

Winded and helpless, unable to move quickly enough, Iolaus saw the monstrous creature loom above him, teeth bared as it began its descent. And then a heavy weight fell upon his chest and Hercules was there, sliding between him and the shark. The demigod grasped the creature, one hand gripping the upper snout and the other the lower part of the hinged jaw and he yanked, backward, hard. The creature uttered one agonized squeal and split, splattering the two men with black blood and bits of reddish flesh. Hercules pushed the creature's body away and rolled to his feet instantly, on the alert for more, as he picked up his dropped sword.

But the desert was quiet; the attack was over for now. He helped Iolaus to his feet, where the hunter stood, hands on thighs, breathing heavily, getting air back into his lungs.

"You okay?" Hercules asked.

Iolaus grinned, blowing out a huge breath and with a grimace of distaste, began brushing bits of gore from his vest. "Yuck! Yeah, I'm okay. I don't know which was worse, being knocked down and nearly devoured by a ton of monster or having two hundred pounds of demigod landing on my chest."

"Is that all the thanks I'm going to get for saving your hide once again, shark bait?" Hercules grinned. He quickly brushed his jerkin as clean as he could, wiped his face with the back of his hand and picked some chunks of bloody flesh out of his hair. Iolaus had reclaimed his sword and they gathered up the gear they had dropped and set off once more.

The made good time throughout the afternoon, running lightly and as noiselessly as possible across the hard-packed sand. The hills on the other side of the valley were a good deal closer now and they could see a line of dunes that jutted like a peninsula out into the valley. Samira had chosen the way well, sending them to the narrowest point to make their crossing. Several times they heard the rumbling noises that heralded the arrival of sharks, but there were no more attacks. Despite the intense heat, Hercules felt a chill creep up his spine. He sensed that they were being watched from a distance and he knew from the tense look on Iolaus' face that he felt it too.

The dunes on the other side of the valley were looming up ahead of them now. 'Way ahead of schedule,' Hercules mused, 'nothing like a little fear to lend wings to your heels.' He kept his body between Iolaus and the valley behind them, sure that the sharks would make one last effort to catch them and that they would be coming in force. Certain that the sharks were gathering in numbers behind them, waiting for the signal to attack. 'Way too smart for fish.'

They were still a hundred meters or so from the first dune that jutted out onto the valley floor, when the rumbling began again, this time with such volume that it was impossible to tell how many were racing toward them under the sand. They were standing back-to-back, swords ready when the first two broke the surface, each followed closely by a second. Iolaus' sword sliced neatly through the first one and caught the second with a quick backstroke. Hercules, less adept with the sword as his partner, killed the first one easily but was unable to shift his weight and reverse the curved scimitar quickly enough to catch the second, so he just kept moving sideways rolling away from the lunging second shark. The shark twisted in the air and plunged back to earth, disappearing under the sand just long enough to gather enough force for a second leap and surfaced again.

Hercules' roll nearly took him into the jaws of a third shark that had come up through the sand behind him, but he had already pulled the stake from his belt and was ready for it. As the creature descended , he pushed the stake vertically into its mouth. The shark tried to clamp its jaws together, but as the demigod had hoped, instead of breaking, the pointed stake pierced the shark's mouth and embedded itself. Squealing, it flopped around on the sand trying to dislodge it and then went limp. Hercules had no time to see the results of his handiwork; the second shark was leaping toward him again, but this time he was ready with the sword and with one clean sweep, he cut its throat.

The third shark caught Iolaus by surprise, his first warning being the rising of the ground behind him. He dived forward and rolled quickly to his left. The shark, already airborne, had no time to shift direction, but even so, its teeth raked across the hunter's right arm, tearing a long, deep gash from his shoulder to his elbow and causing him to lose his grip on his sword. More quickly than Iolaus believed possible the shark dived below the surface and reemerged having changed direction and was now aimed straight toward him. His fingers, groping for his sword, caught instead the bail of the wooden bucket and he brought it up, butt first, jamming it with all his strength into the shark's mouth. The shark threw itself backward, slamming itself against the sand to knock the bucket loose, but it held fast.

Dazed, Iolaus rolled to his feet and picked up his sword, his badly bleeding arm spilling blood on the sand. Hercules looked at him worriedly and was about to say something, when a tremendous rumbling began out in valley.

"Run...like...hell!" Hercules shouted and the two heroes broke into a sprint toward the dune at the valley's edge.

As they drew near the hill, Hercules pushed the scimitar into his belt and yelled, "Mind your sword, you're going for a ride," and he picked up the hunter by the belts and the back of his vest and threw him upward onto the side of the dune. Iolaus landed face down and dug into the soft sand with one arm and his knees to anchor himself. Bringing back the broadsword he drove it point first into the sand burying it to its hilt. To his relief it held fast and he used it as leverage to pull himself to the top, and then turned to look below and gasped, shouting, "Herc, look out!"

The rumbling from beneath the sand was almost deafening now, and close. Hercules called upon all his semi-divine strength and leaped, from a standstill, upward. He could hear the snap of teeth behind him and feel a rush of air as powerful jaws clamped on empty space at the same time he heard Iolaus' warning. As he grasped the broadsword and pulled himself upward, he could feel something brush against his leg and then slide away.

Iolaus was peering down at him, white-faced, "Gods, any closer and you'd been walking on your knees for the rest of your life," he said breathlessly as Hercules pulled himself up beside him.

Hercules grinned. "A miss is a miss is a miss."

"Well, don't ever scare me like that again. Gods, look at them."

A dozen or more sharks, much smaller than those that had attacked them, clustered at the base of the dune, looking up at them hungrily. One by one, they dove into the soft sand and tried to tunnel upward, but slid back down to the valley floor when their tunnels collapsed on top of them. Others had stopped at the scene of the last attack, milling frantically around just below the surface, their heads breaking through to snap at each other and the human blood they could smell soaking into the sand.

"Ouch, that's my blood they're fighting over." Iolaus shuddered. "They must be the babies we were going to be dinner for."

"Gods, Iolaus," Hercules tore his eyes from the gruesome sight below and looked at his partner. Iolaus was holding one hand over the torn arm, but blood was still running out from under his fingers, down his forearm and dripping into the sand. Hercules shrugged out of his jalabayyi and his jerkin and stripped off his undershirt, and began ripping it into strips. He waited until the pressure Iolaus was exert