The Winter Solstice Miracle

by Beckers

******

(1)

It wasn't just a get together with good friends. There would be food, drink and dancing.
Reminiscing over old times. But no, not just a reunion. This was *the* Winter Solstice
festival.

Iolaus was eager and impatient but the bouncing on the heels of his boots and the clapping
of his hands against each other was not a demonstration of his excitement. He did this to
produce some small measure of warmth against the biting chill of the air about them.

They were on their way to Anarticus, a village in the upper elevations of Greece. It had
been a long journey, many days travel time for two battle weary men, having just
demobilized a band of blood thirty thieves in Kactus, but it would be worth it.

Anarticus was a place of great historical significance. It was where it all started.
Anarticus: the land where Zeus, the King of the Greek Gods, made his first speech to mortal
man after putting an end to the Titans, thus terminating there reign and beginning the
dominion of the Olympians.

Reason enough for a cynical Hercules to have never traveled to Anarticus. Why should he go
to a place where Zeus was considered far more than the uncaring, removed egomaniac he was?
Hercules grimaced at the thought. He was probably being a little unfair but this time of
year always brought out a hostile streak in the demigod. It was when he missed Dieanera and
the children most.

If it wasn't for Iolaus enthusiasm and persuasion, Hercules would be staying with Iphicles
in Corinth -- if Iphicles were actually going to *be* in Corinth this year. Truth be told,
his mortal brother planned to make the trip to Anarticus himself. It was the turning of a
century and Anarticus had planned a huge celebration. There was going to be a ceremony with
a lot of pomp ... and to be truthful, Hercules didn't want to disappoint anyone. He was
expected and many people - heroes, nobles and peasants - had rearranged their lives just to
hear the demigod - the semi-mortal son of their most noble of gods - and the peoples
champion - declare the Winter Solstice season open.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hercules asked his companion once again, noting how
Iolaus clutched his robes against the cold, teeth chattering, breathing deeply, and seemed
to convulse against the chilly wind.

"Wouldn't miss it for the known world, buddy. We only have one more incline and we'll be
there. Then, we can settle down into our nice, comfortable, warm beds."

"You mean you can settle into a nice, comfortable warm ale." Hercules corrected with
sarcastic mirth.

Iolaus smiled chose to ignore the comment, "Besides, we're out-running a blizzard.. If we
stop we might get stuck in a cave somewhere. No festival, no food, no fun ..."

" ... and no women." Hercules laughed, knowing his friend well.

*****

Ah Alexia ...

With her hair like sun ripened wheat and a face and figure to rival even the beauty of the
goddess Aphrodite. She was all he could take in at this moment as he watched her stroll
down the street, a basket of breads swaying on her delicate arm, bouncing against her
shapely hip, as she walked. No, she wasn't overly astute but - as a starry-eyed Iolaus kept
reminding himself - she didn't *have* to be. He could just stand and look at her, hoping
eventually to kiss those rosebud lips and touch that satin sin, and be very happy.

He leaned against a damp support beam and continued to dreamily watch her retreating
figure. Alexia promised to stop by the tavern tonight. Maybe the two of them could sneak
off and spend some private time together and ... Well, the possibilities were endless.

But now, there was work to do.

"Come on, buddy!" Hercules called down to his friend from where he kneeled on the roof of
the town tavern. "Time's wasting and we want to get this done before the festival moves
into high gear." Hercules held a hammer in his powerful right hand and resumed with his
chore of fixing a hole that last night's bad weather had made. If he had to be here he was
going to make himself useful. He was going to help people.

Iolaus looked up at his friend from where he stood in the street. Why couldn't Hercules
just come to one of these things and have fun? Why did he always ruin the celebration by
insisting he and Iolaus *work*?

Still ... Iolaus lifted a hand and, looking around, scratched the back of his golden head.
The town *did* need a little fixing up. The ice storm he and Hercules had ran into and out
of, while crossing the Amphipula mountains a few days ago, on their way to this village,
had been unexpected. Last evening, finally making it into the tavern, they rested in a
comfortable sitting area, near a hearth, and awaited the preparation of their rooms. They
were, after all, the guests of honor. Well okay, actually *Hercules* was the honored guest
but that was to be expected. The point was, they were both being treated well.

The storm that followed the heroes picked up momentum and had really slammed into
Anarticus hard. They could hear the wind whipping about outside and boards creaking all
around the sturdy structure.

"Hail the size of Zeus' thunderbolts!" the tavern keeper, a seasoned gentleman, declared as
he looked out the window, "We've never had a storm this bad before." he continued, "Almost
as if the gods are angry about the festival this year. Hera knows they shouldn't be. It's
in their honor."

If it were true, Hercules and Iolaus mused, there was probably good reason for it. The
festival might be to honor Zeus but the mortals attending were far more interested in
celebrities. Everyone who was anyone seemed to be coming to the festival this year.
Autolycus, Salmoneus, Xena, Jason, Iphicles and even the Argonauts.

"Hey, Iolaus!" a familiar voice called over to the hunter, "You wanna help Gabrielle and me
put the outside breakfast tables together?"

*Joxer*. Iolaus sighed. Joxer wasn't such a bad guy but sometimes .... At least Gabrielle
made up for him. Iolaus always loved to hear the young bard weave a story. Maybe tonight
they could talk, she might treat him to a tale, before he departed with Alexia. Gabrielle
could probably use a break from the constantly fawning Joxer, who seemed to be taking his
job as the girl's protector in earnest. Not that she needed his protection. The girl ...
the *woman* had become quite a warrior in his absence. He both admired her new found
confidence and yearned for that past time, when Gabrielle was still unsure and a bit more
... harmless.

Xena, Gabrielle had told him last night as they warmed themselves with a drink and against
a fire in the tavern's stone hearth, wouldn't be arriving until the following day. That was
*if* she could get past the bad weather. Something about vanquishing warlords in a
neighboring village. Kid stuff.

Iolaus turned to the would-be gladiator, "Sure, Jox, let me get some more wet wiping rags
and I'll be right over."

Gabrielle watched Iolaus move off and sighed. She'd seen the looks he was giving Alexia and
although he had every right to appreciate the attributes of a beautiful village girl, the
Amazon-bard couldn't help feeling just a little jealous and disappointed. She didn't get to
see him often and it was at times like these that Gabrielle wished she meant more to Iolaus
than what they were, merely good friends.

A little downhearted, she unraveled the red table covering in her hands and pushed it over
one of the already assembled wood benches. Gabrielle noted, with a mild smile, that Joxer
was attempting to do the same with a green cloth but wasn't succeeding. The cover in his
hands wasn't sewn right but he hadn't figured it out yet. She'd left him to it.

No one heard the initial cracking of ice atop the slanted roof opposite Hercules. He was
hammering and voices in the street, on the first day of pre festival activities, were loud.

Iolaus, distracted, could smell the sausages browning inside of the tavern and could almost
hear his stomach growl. The only thing better than the pretty women at events like this was
the incredible food prepared by the pretty women at events like this. He planned on
sampling *everything*. Wiping cloths in hand, the hunter walked over to where a few small
children were playing with a tiny ball and some stones. He liked kids and crouched to talk
with them for a minute.

"That guy," Joxer said, eyeing Iolaus, and speaking quietly to Gabrielle who was watching
him. "He's always avoiding work, isn't he? He can be so lazy ..." Inadvertently, Joxer tore
the table cloth he was holding in his clenched hands into two pieces. Embarrassed, hoping
no one had seen what he'd done, he balled the cloth up and tossed it over his shoulder.

"You'd be surprised, Joxer." Gabrielle murmured seriously, continuing to gaze at Iolaus and
the children, amused and smiling. 'He'd make a wonderful father.' she thought.

Joxer stared at her for a few seconds and wasn't sure he liked what he was seeing.
Abruptly, he took one of the cloths from her extended arm and began to spread it clumsily
over another table, knocking over an unlit lantern. "Well, you don't see me wasting time,
playing with kids, when work needs to be done."

"That's true, Joxer." Gabrielle nodded and almost laughed when another more acerbic part of
her mind thought: 'And what a great help you are, my friend.'

*crackle*crunch* crackle*

This time the sound, much louder than before, was noticed by Hercules.

He looked over at the opposite roof, unsure of what he was hearing. He realize too late
what it was. Before Hercules could jump into action, a large and heavy sheet of ice, the
size of a Nemean lion's flank, had let loose from the building opposite him and was headed
into the street below, directly at Gabrielle and Joxer, who were unaware of the danger.

"Iolaus!" Hercules shouted, suddenly catching his friend's eye, hoping he could warn the
couple in time.

The hunter-warrior, aware and stricken, saw the ice sheet move steadily down the roof. In
only the few seconds it took his mind to cry: 'Gabrielle!' his body had taken on a will of
it's own. Iolaus ran with the speed of an Olympian and jumped forward, pushing Gabrielle
and Joxer with all his might, out of the way ...

... leaving him as the lone target for the hard and heavy ice layer.

It struck Iolaus squarely in the chest, shoving him hard backward, against the tavern's
outside wall. He was pinned between frozen water and stone and couldn't move even if he was
able.

"Iolaus!" Gabrielle screamed.

"Iolaus!" Hercules also cried and slid down the ladder to where his friend lay braced.

Towns people, some who had witnessed the heroic deed, ran to them. Even the tavern keeper
left his post to see what all the commotion was about.

Iolaus, stunned and incoherent, looked over to where he saw Hercules running. He couldn't
really hear anything but he felt a terrible pain in his chest and abdomen. He also tasted
blood. He couldn't remember what he had done, only that it was instinctive and he was in
trouble ... again.

"It's okay, buddy." Hercules assured when he reached him, crouching slightly and touching
Iolaus shoulder. He briefly examined the thick ice-panel, "I'll get you out of here in a
few seconds." and, with both hands, Hercules pushed on the edge of the heavy block, lifting
it with his incredible strength as others, including Joxer, helped him.

"I'm sorry ... " Iolaus whispered, gritting his teeth through the pain, as Hercules worked
to free him, "I've ruined everything, haven't I?"

"No, of course you haven't." but there was a little of the frantic in the demigod's tone.
Part of him wondered if removing the frozen water, which pressed so hard against his
friend's body, the wisest idea. Hercules quickly recalled a time when he was forced to do
the same with another man, crushed beneath a boulder, and how that man died the moment the
rock was removed ... "We'll get you out of here, get you to bed and you'll be up and
dancing like a teenager tomorrow morning." Hercules encouraged.

Then the pressure was gone and Iolaus saw Hercules slide the ice sheet away from him, into
the middle of the street. He saw a few townspeople skip out of the way when the frozen
water smashed to the gravel ground. 'Just something else for this town to clean up,' Iolaus
thought absently. 'Why couldn't I have ....?'

Breathing was suddenly hard ... too hard. That blood taste was worse and ... he could feel
his legs losing a battle. Iolaus slid to a sitting position on the ground, Hercules hand on
his arm, holding him still. Then Iolaus heard Gabrielle shout, "Joxer, go get a healer!"
but her voice was muffled and the on-lookers around him began to lose focus. "Gabrielle and
Joxer are safe ...." he whispered, remembering what brought him to this, and watched what
could only be the figure of Hercules nod at him.

Then, as if Hercules was suspicious of something frightening, Iolaus felt his friend lift
the front of his ragged, purple vest. He then saw a pair of eyes grow wide.

"Iolaus ...." Hercules words caught in his throat. He turned, "Where's that healer?"

The last thing Iolaus *saw*, before he fell unconscious, was Hercules' frightened blue eyes
as they stared down at him, assessing his best friend's physical condition. The last thing
he *felt* were his friend's strong arms lifting him, and carrying him into a warm building,
the inn above the tavern.

And the last thing he *heard* was a little boy, probably one of the children Iolaus had
been speaking with only moments before, say: "Is that man going to die?"

And that was all.

*****

Autolycus and Salmoneus arrived together, having met up in Dandilus and partnering together
for a slightly less than wholesome transaction. Salmoneus assured himself that everything
was above board, what they did was not wrong but profitable, but Autolycus knew better. And
he didn't care. They were fleecing warlords, after all, and a lot of that money went right
back to those families that were stolen from. If anything, the denars he and Salmoneus
received as payment for a job well done were earned and appreciated.

Now, they stood in the middle of an icy street in downtown Anarticus and looked about the
famous yet somewhat quiet village. The townspeople going about their business, some playing
and drinking, but with a little less enthusiasm than they expected during festival time.

"What is this, a celebration or a funeral?" Autolycus asked his resourceful partner.

"You know, I sort of thought the people here would be a little more *up* too. I wonder if
someone poisoned the ale." Salmoneus said, fumbling a little with a couple of smooth
stones between his fingers. He had hoped to set up his own gaming booth and gouge or - er -
*play a game* or two with the town's more wealthy (and gullible) populace. With a sigh, he
looked up and down the row of buildings, suddenly seeing the tavern. "I'm thirsty."
Salmoneus said.

"I'm a little parched myself, my stout friend." Auto slapped Salmoneus on the back of his
toga a little roughly and crossed the street with him.

They entered the tavern and both faces immediately brightened when seeing Hercules - the
man of the hour and the real reason they both decided to come to Anarticus in the first
place - then they realized how gloomy he appeared. As a matter of fact, all the faces of
the patrons seated at the wooden tables looked equally miserable.

Salmoneus and Autolycus knew something was not as it should be. "What'd ya think?"

"I've seen happier maidens at the alter of a virgin sacrifice." Autolycus commented, dryly.

Salmoneus nodded, "Let's find out what's going on."

******

Nursus, the village healer, was a white haired old gentleman with a slight stoop. He
departed the upstairs bedroom, closing the door behind him, and dismissed the young lad
who had been helping he and Gabrielle with his new patient. Nursus took his time walking
down the wooden steps to the tavern below.

Hercules and his friends stood the moment they spotted him. "How is he?" the demigod asked
and was not assured when the healer, as he made his descent, appeared hesitant.

Nursus entered into the tavern area and noticed some new faces. One of which was - no doubt
- a very important man. He stood beside Hercules, his rich robes glittering a bit in the
muted light about them. The fact this man was accompanied by two body guards was a clear
indication of his status. Royalty probably.

Also in attendance were three other people - a girl and two men - warriors it seemed - who
stood near a table in the back corner of the tavern. Yet, they too appeared to be with this
concerned group of friends, awaiting any information on the poor soul that rested, possibly
breathing his last breath, upstairs.

"It's not good." Nursus stated, for all to hear. "He's a strong man and if it wasn't for
the fact that he's healthy and fit to begin with, he'd have died as soon as he was struck.
A lesser man would have been crushed." The healer was a blunt man and figured this group
didn't want to be white-washed, "He's got good stomach and chest muscles, which protected
many of his bones, preventing them from piercing vital organs. However, some bones were
broken, to be sure. Perhaps even crushed." Nursus folded his hands together and paced
before Hercules and his friends, "I set and strapped them the best I could. He's still
unconscious which concerns me but, at least, it was easier to take care of his visible
injuries. The bleeding that you saw Hercules," Nursus stopped walking and fixed his
attention to the demigod, "came from a deep gash in his throat. When the ice hit him a
sharp shard flew up and nailed him in the neck. I'm afraid it did some damage. If Iolaus
lives, in time, he may completely lose his voice."

Hercules looked down at the tavern floor and closed his eyes. Iolaus, not able to speak.
That would surely destroy his friend. Iolaus loved to talk and tell stories. No more bad
jokes, no mock arguments where Iolaus always had to have the last word ....

Iphicles, the royal Nursus had been impressed by, put a sympathetic hand on Hercules back
and asked: "Is he out of danger for now? Can we see him?"

"No." Again, Nursus was honest, "Despite any other outward sign of internal injury, Iolaus
is bloating. I suspect there *is* bleeding. I need to do an exploratory and am not equipped
to operate." He spotted a momentary flash of anger in the faces about him, "My specialty is
oral medicine. Herbs and liniments, accessing damage, and straightening twisted limbs. I
was supposed to have two other healers here for the festival, specialist in the type of
injuries Iolaus has. You never know what will happen during a rowdy festival.
Unfortunately, they have not arrived." he explained, "I suspect they were not able to get
past the storm and are hold up somewhere attending others."

Phoebe, the youngest Argonaut, moved forward - "We and King Iphicles came from the east
side of the mountain where the blizzard didn't pass. That's why we were able to get here
when the storm moved south."

Salmoneus agreed, "Auto and I came the same way." He looked at Joxer.

"We did too but Xena was coming from the west and must have got caught."

"The same as Jason." Hercules said, thoughtfully. "The healers must be coming from that
same direction."

Phoebe continued, "If you need those healers to operate on Iolaus we'll go get them." she
said to Nursus and indicating she and the other Argonauts were ready and willing.

Iphicles nodded, "I'll send my guards with you." he said simply and raised a hand when the
burley men prepared to raise an objection. Iphicles knew it was against all the rules of
his kingship to leave himself open and vulnerable to attack but now was not the time to be
petty. His brother's best friend was in trouble. Providing his men was the least Iphicles
felt he could do.

Hercules nodded, "Right. Go to it." he told the volunteers.

Nursus also nodded but didn't look convinced. Even if these heroes were able to bring back
help, he couldn't guarantee that he or they would be able to save Iolaus life. His injuries
were inconclusive and life threatening and time was their enemy. "In the meantime, we don't
want to leave Iolaus alone for even a minute. If something goes wrong, if he starts to show
signs of stress, I need to know about immediately." The healer raised his eyes and turned,
looking up at the door of Iolaus sickroom, "Gabrielle will be watching over him for a
couple hours then she should be relieved by someone else. After a few hours another should
take his or her place. And so on and so on ..." Again, Nursus made eye contact with
Hercules, "But only one at a time. Too many people and too much excitement is not good for
him. Do I make myself clear?"

Hercules, Iphicles, Autolycus, Salmoneus and Joxer nodded their understanding.

"I wish Xena were here." Joxer murmured to himself, "She knows a lot about medicine. She'd
know what to do."

"I'll watch Iolaus next." Autolycus offered and tried to appear glib, "Curly and I can talk
over old times."

"That's good. Talk to him even though he might not appear to hear what you say. Iolaus
might respond to familiarity and that can only be a good sign."

****

" ... and when he came back from that harsh realm ..." Gabrielle continued her story,
leaning forward and speaking softly into the ear closest to her, " ... he saw the old woman
again. But this time she was laid out in her finest gown and he suddenly realized this was
his love. The beautiful young girl he had fallen in love with in that past time, when the
gods had whisked him away because of his blasphemy, was the old crone of this present time.
The old woman he had treated so cruelly ... and now she was gone, never to hear him tell
her how much he adored her. The Prince had learned his lesson but it was at the cost of
losing the one woman he had loved more than any other in his life."

She didn't know why she had selected this morality tale. It was a melancholy story, filled
with revenge, sorrow and love lost. Yet, somehow, it was what first tale that came to mind
when she decided to allow her muse to take over her tongue. She hoped - some way - the
sleeping Iolaus heard her words and was pondering its simple lesson.

Gabrielle watched him as he rested, holding his hand in hers and warming them with the
touch of her own skin. Iolaus looked so much like a small child as he lay there. His eyes
closed, blond lashes laying in delicate arches, his body wrapped as if he were wearing
gauze pajamas. "Oh, Iolaus ..." Gabrielle whispered, "I know you can't really hear me but
you've got to know how much you mean to everyone. You can't just leave us. What will
Hercules do without his best friend?"

Their lives paralleled one another so evenly, she thought. Imagining Hercules without
Iolaus was like imagining Xena without her bardic buddy. Each would lose something so
profound during the process of separation. Not just losing a friend, someone you care for
and love and want with you because they are a part of your soul, but an actual lifeline. A
reason for being. That other half of your consciousness that tells a man and woman that
there was and is a reason for all they do.

A division of this union could be tolerated if there was a good reason. There could still
be happiness and wholeness. Even if one day they, one or the other, would leave because of
marriage or had grown too old to continue their travels, taking on the world. That
wholeness would be there -- just in different parts of the world.

Yet, a separation via death was not a consideration. To be parted because of violence or an
accident .... It was too much for a hero to take. Yet, all of them had felt that sting,
that stolen moment of life. That emptiness.

And Hercules ... he had felt it for too long. Gabrielle recalled the whole story of Iolaus
sacrifice to Dahak, how poor Hercules had been left without his friend. This time it had
seemed forever. All those horrible months alone, without Iolaus, left scars that would
never totally heal. Hercules moved on, making friends and helping people as he had before
but it wasn't the same. It could never be the same.

Even later, when Iolaus - his real flesh and blood companion - had came back, Hercules
wasn't the identical man that he was before Iolaus had originally left him. There was
always a fear -- a dread that someday he *wouldn't* be able to make a difference.

"Hercules needs you, Iolaus" Gabrielle leaned forward and murmured. She paused, a wave of
sad warmth suddenly filling her inner self - "Iolaus ... I need you too." Then, "I ... I
love you." and her eyes closed as the honeyed words spilled from her lips.

She felt an unexpected squeeze on her hand. He had heard her! He hadn't been asleep ... and
now ... Oh, this was just so embarrassing. What must he think of her? Laying herself open
like this ...

"Iolaus, I ..." Gabrielle leaned forward yet again, distraught.

"I love you too ...." he murmured ever so softly, his eyes closed and his manner
intangible.

And Gabrielle knew he was still a sleep, even as he spoke, and she felt a little relieved.
this was all a dream to him, thank the gods. Still, Gabrielle was a little warmed that she
was the object of his dream, possibly brought about by the story she'd just told him, and
she smiled her pleasure.

"I *do* love you ..." he whispered again.

Gabrielle could feel a blush coming to her cheeks, a joy infused her mind, and she held
onto his hand, gently rubbing the knuckles with her fingertips. She nearly laughed at a
secret she'd never known before, wondering if he'd recall this when he awoke.

"My darling ... " he whispered again, "... Alexia."

((continue))

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