********

Iolaus entered the small, dim inn room where he and Hercules were supposed to have spent the night. It wasn't a bad place. It was clean, with two sturdy cots, but small. Iolaus actually expected more seeing as how Hercules was "the guest of honor" but it was probably all that the innkeeper could afford to give up. Iolaus understood. They had had worse.

The tiny window on the far wall barely let in any sun and what was there crept slowly across the floor of the room, briefly disrupted by Iolaus' shadow when he entered. He hesitated as soon as he did so. The door had been left open, if only by a small degree. Iolaus was certain he'd closed it when they'd left that morning, dropping off their gear. Carefully, sensing movement behind him, Iolaus picked up his sword, which was lying on his cot. He then quickly turned --

Nothing.

"Iolaus, you've gone paranoid," he said aloud, shaking his head. Iolaus quickly dropped his sword onto the cot again and gathered the rest of their things. If they left now they could camp in a glade a few miles outside of the city before it got too dark to hunt for dinner.

"Please! Anyone! Help!" called a strained female voice from the hall.

Iolaus met the woman at his opened door, "Where?" He noted she was one of the Sisters of Reclamation, dressed in her silky white gown. As a matter of fact, she was the same Sister who had held onto his arm this morning and appeared to be making advances. Yet now, she merely looked frightened.

"Sir, it's in the town circle. The gods will be so angry during this week of peace to find we have sinned mightily twice during the same day. Gaspius will certainly feel their wrath, particularly that of our patron, and so many of us will be hurt!"

Never one to turn down such a plea, especially from one so pretty, Iolaus turned to grab his sword from the cot. If there was going to be any fallout let it be on him, not this very strange city, "Okay, I'll see what I can do."

Then he heard another sound. It was light, less than a squeak or an in drawn breath, but it was clearly male and a test for Iolaus' reflexes.

The hunter turned and ducked just in time to be missed by a man in dark robes, who swung at his head with what looked like a heavy frying pan.

Startled, The Sister squealed and moved to the other side of the room, backing herself into a corner away from harm.

Iolaus was stunned. His attacker was Hertuges, the temple aide, the young man with the serious expression who had been standing close to Angerles during Hercules' welcoming ceremony. With gusto, he swung again at Iolaus but had miscalculated his own skills and that of his victim.
Iolaus kicked out at the hand, which held the frying pan, sending the makeshift weapon sailing across the room to land on the bed next to Iolaus sword. "You're going to have to do a lot better than that," Iolaus scolded. He agilely moved out of the way when the clumsy aide came running at him determined in whatever mission he was on to bring the hunter down.

Instead, Hertuges ran into the bedroom wall and knocked himself back to lie on the dusty floor.

"I'm sure there is a good reason for all this," Iolaus quipped, "and I'd love to hear all about it."

Panicked, the aide twisted around and tried to scramble to his feet and out of the room. Iolaus, however, put a booted foot on his back and held him in place.

"Not so fast." He looked over at the woman her mouth open in apparent shock. "You have any idea what this is about?"

"N-N-no." she stammered, lifting her delicate hands to her ivory face. "I just came for help. Could it have something to do with the fight in the square?" she asked flustered.

The fight. Iolaus almost forgot about it. He turned from her and looked down again at the man on the floor, "I doubt it but I have a feeling this guy ..." The hunter's sentence was unexpectedly cut off, followed by a faint-painful moan as he fell to the wooden boards beside the quickly raising minister-in-training.

Behind him stood The Sister and what was left of a porcelain water pitcher in her hands. With a satisfied smile, she looked down at the unconscious hunter. She then laid what was left of the pitcher on a bedside table. The woman glanced once at the young aide, who now stood, dumbfounded, beside her.

"I thought Hercules was the one we had to worry about. This guy was tough," he said, rubbing at his smarting hand. "I'm sorry I failed."

"No matter," the woman offered him charitably with a slightly superior tone to her voice. "Our research told us he is a warrior-hunter and most importantly a man with appetites." She smiled. "Both he and Hercules tend to be trusting of pretty, innocent faces. I'm afraid you just don't have," she saucily bit her full tinted lower lip before going on, "the right equipment to get the job done as it should be done, dear boy."

Both the man and woman chuckled.

"Now it's time to really go to work." Hertuges bent down to grasp Iolaus' arm, dragging him from the room.

***

"He's probably off with some dancing girls or something," Hercules grumbled impatiently, making his way into the inn. The demigod's anger was a mask for worry. Too much time had passed since Iolaus had gone to retrieve their things for the road.

Hercules walked up the short staircase and approached their room. He was instantly stricken when noting the door was wide open.

Something was wrong.

Iolaus' sword was lying there on his cot, as were their things, in a small bundle.

Hercules quickly looked around the room, but there was no sign of a struggle. Could something have come up and Iolaus left in a hurry to help? But even that didn't seem right. Iolaus would have automatically took his sword, particularly if there were danger. Hercules knew his friend well. "Okay, maybe I'm just over-reacting here." he murmured.

Then Hercules saw something on the floor that caused an involuntary shiver. A single blood droplet. Just a small spot really -- but it was fresh.

"Okay, not over-reacting," he said aloud. He had to talk to someone who could tell him what was going on in this village. No more playing around. Iolaus was in trouble.

*******

He slowly awakened.

His head hurt. Bad. And his hands and legs were chained to a damp stone wall.

No old hunter's tricks were going to get him out of this one. The small dagger hidden in a discreet pocket of his boot was gone as well. He no longer felt the faint and comforting cold touch of its handle against his ankle. The room in which he was imprisoned was pitch-black, although when he'd semi-consciously tried to defend himself earlier against his captors, it had been in broad daylight. How many hours had passed since then?

Iolaus brushed off his worries quickly. Hercules had probably already been at the inn, seen he was missing, and any second now would burst through the doors of this prison to rescue him. The hunter squinted in the dark. Where were the doors, anyway?

His silent question was answered when a loud creak interrupted his train of thought, spilling moonlight onto the floor and up to his feet.

The woman, the bane of his existance right now, entered. A small gratified smile was on her comely face. "You're awake and congratulations." With her she carried a small bowl of water and a white cloth.

"Congratulations?" Iolaus asked.

She came closer, moving a hand to stroke one side of his face, plainly enjoying herself, "I really like you, Iolaus. It's a shame, really, that Hercules couldn't have been The Chosen instead. He probably would have been if our master thought they could keep him still. Our patron god would truly be impressed with the son of Zeus." She quickly reconsidered, "On the other hand, having Zeus angry with us because of his son?" She made a clicking noise with her tongue, "Doesn't matter. Hercules' best friend - a warrior and hero in his own right - is good too. It's just such a shame." Again, she lifted a hand.

Iolaus abruptly turned away from her touch and looked about the now dimly lit chamber, a little frightened.

"Oh, don't bother. You can't escape. I searched you earlier for weapons and ... what an *arsenal* you had on you." She smiled again, barely disguising the double meaning.

Iolaus swallowed, not dwelling on the hidden implications of her words. Instead he turned his attention to other matters, "What did you congratulate me for? What do you mean by 'The Chosen?'"

"It's purely ceremonial," she said matter-of-factly, dipping the cloth in her bowl of water.

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to." She lifted the cloth and began to gently clean his face, neck, chest and shoulders. "We want you to look pretty when we present you to the crowd tomorrow morning." Then, without thinking, she licked her lips and ran a hand down to his toned stomach. `Don't expect Hercules to rescue you, Iolaus. He's going to be long gone before tomorrow's ceremony. Arrangements are being made for that right now."

"I don't believe you. He wouldn't just leave. Not without me."

"If you say so."

Iolaus stared at the woman as she continued with her chore, which seemed to give her far more pleasure than the object of her ministrations. He never thought he could dislike any woman so much.

"Goodbye, dearest," she whispered in his ear. She kissed Iolaus gently on the cheek before departing.

He swooned for a split second. She did have nice eyes. `What am I thinking?'

Iolaus pulled at his chains. He really had no idea what to expect but whatever it was, it would be soon. Night only lasted so long.

********

"Hercules, I don't know what you're talking about and I have no idea where your friend is." Minister Angerles, dressed in eveningwear, leaned against the large stone fireplace in his living quarters. "As a matter of fact, I thought both of you had gone by now."

Attempting to practice as much patience as he could under the circumstances, Hercules clenched his mighty fists and closed his eyes as he spoke. "Iolaus came up missing just after we left jail today. He was supposed to go to our room and pick up our things. He's been gone ever since. Something has happened to him."

Angerles lifted a hand and rubbed his chin, seemingly thinking about the topic earnestly. "Hercules, did you ever stop to think that perhaps your friend just left Gaspius without you?"

"Iolaus wouldn't leave without telling me. He's got far too much character for that."

"Does he?" Angerles almost smiled as he stared into the fireplace, as if he knew something Hercules didn't. "I've heard he was once a thief and, as a teenager, was in a gang. That type of person, even if he has been touch by the greatness of the son of Zeus, can be very unpredictable."

Hercules stared at Angerles, unbelieving. "How do you know Iolaus' past?"

He faced Hercules, his light colored robe now glistening against the flickering light of the fire. "I make it my business to know who is in my city," he said simply. "Leave here, Hercules, as you've been ordered. If Iolaus shows up we'll send him back on the road and he'll join you shortly."

Feeling his lips tremble with fury, knowing when he was being lied to and cast off, Hercules took in a breath and his voice was low and threatening. "I'll leave, Minister, but I'll be back. My brother, Iphicles, is the King of Corinth. Iolaus is a good friend of his too. King Iphicles commands a great army. On his order, they will go through this city, tearing it apart piece by piece until we find Iolaus. And if we do and he's been hurt you *will* pay the price."

Then Hercules turned and walked from the chamber, slamming the huge double doors behind him.

For the first time in possibly his entire life, Angerles appeared worried.

**********

It was morning and he was drugged.

Iolaus knew it the minute he felt the dizziness and noted a lack of motor coordination. `You're an idiot.' the hunter-warrior chastised himself and his appetite. He hadn't eaten since the scant prison lunch yesterday and the breakfast he was served this morning was just too tantalizing. Eggs, strips of lean meat along with bread, honey and goat's milk. He was hungry, as usual, but should have known better.

With a great effort, Iolaus tried his best to keep on his feet but even with one of the sturdy prison walls as a brace, he couldn't prevent the inevitable crumple into a sitting position. His legs were like jelly.

"And things had started out so well today," Iolaus mumbled sarcastically. When he'd awakened before the sun came up and discovered himself unchained from the wall, lying on a pile of straw, Iolaus had been curious. At least these people thought enough of their *chosen* to make him somewhat comfortable before whatever ceremony he was supposed to be involved in. Then the food was slipped through a slot at the bottom of the door. He heard a murmur of "Eat well," that he thought might have been from the Sister. Maybe that's what reassured him initially. She did seem fond of him, after all.

But now...

"Hercules, if you're going to rescue me, now would be a real good time." Iolaus leaned his back against the wall he had been using as a brace and irritably kicked out at the mocking, empty plate, where he had dropped it onto the floor. "Hurry, please."

******

Part 4