Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 02 Read Online Free Page A

be—"
    "Klothon," the voice repeated, with a faint hint of annoyance, "will do what Klothon always does."
    That was another problem with the gods. They were always repeating the same thing over and over again, as if he hadn't heard the first time.
    He nodded thoughtfully. "I see."
    There was no response.
    "So, if Klothon will do what. Klothon always does, I guess I'll have to figure out a way to make sure it's done someplace else next time he's around."
    There was no response.
    Thinking the meeting had gone quite well so far, all in all, Titus dared to ask, "I don't suppose you'd like to give me a hint on how I'm supposed to pull that off?"
    The chamber shook.
    Clots of dirt showered from the ceiling.
    The candles were caught in a wind he could not feel, and their flames expanded, brightened to a glaring white, and vanished.
    From the place on the floor where he had unceremoniously landed after sliding off the bench, Titus said, "No. I guess you're not going to tell me how to pull it off."
    Yet he waited another hour, praying silently, just in case there were more instructions. When it was evident that the meeting was over, he picked up a sack and removed four gold lids from it. He placed one lid over each bowl, fastened them shut, and put the bowls into the sack.
    Now there was no light.
    He didn't need it.
    When he was ready, he bowed out of the chamber and made his way along the tunnel toward the beach.
    He didn't concern himself with the deer's body. It would be gone when he returned, as it had been in the past, and he had never wanted to know how. Or why.
    Or, for that matter, what.
    Salt spray dampened his face as he neared the end of the passageway. He had taken too long; the tide was already flooding in.

    Wonderful, he thought; I'm going to get drenched, I'm going to ruin my new sandals, and I still haven't figured out who's going to die next week.
    He sighed for the burdens his office placed on his shoulders, sighed for the first wave that splashed him to the knees, and would have sighed for the new task he had been given had he not spotted the women on the beach.
    Lovely women.
    Extraordinary women.
    Young women.
    A brief glance at the sky in thanks, and he strode confidently toward them. And the closer he got, the more he smiled.
    Perfect; they were absolutely perfect.
    All he needed was the right speech, perhaps a bauble or two, and they were his. All his.
    Another glance at the sky—and all yours, of course, he added silently. And all yours.
    That the judges might not agree concerned him not in the least. At other festivals all it took to convince anyone to go along with him was a pouch filled with jewels or gold coin, or a whispered word to the wise that he knew what the judge in question had really been up to when he was last in Athens, allegedly at a goldsmith seminar.
    This year none of that would be necessary.
    This year neither of the judges would live long enough to utter any complaints.

    "No," Hercules insisted firmly. "Absolutely not. It's out of the question."
    Dinner was long over, and he and Iolaus sat by the hearth facing each other. Alcmena was in her corner chair, grinning at them while she sewed a new dress for a village girl who was to be married the following week.
    It was a comfortable room. Not so large that voices echoed, or so small that anyone felt cramped.
    Hangings on the walls and vases filled with flowers lent it color; the hearth provided more than simple physical warmth.
    "No," he repeated, just in case Iolaus hadn't heard him the first hundred times.
    "But, Herc," his friend protested, "think of the honor. Of the position."
    "Of the women?" Hercules suggested.
    "Well... yes, but that's not the point."
    "What, exactly, is the point, then?"
    Iolaus looked around the room in frustration before leaning forward. "The point is, these good and obviously reasonable people think that we, you and I, are responsible and intelligent enough to choose the one woman, the only woman, the absolute