A Series of Unfortunate Events

Iolaus has an unexpectedly interesting day in Corinth. A response to the August 2002 Story Challenge.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"Now what’s wrong?" asked Hercules.

"This water is hot!" cried Iolaus as he dipped his foot into the bathtub. "Ow, ow, oh. Om. Mm. Mmmmm." The young warrior's cries of pain changed to sighs of satisfaction as he gradually settled himself into the tub, a froth of bubbles surrounding his aching body.

"It's not that hot," said his friend, already soaking in another tub.

"It is too, but it feels good," replied Iolaus just before he ducked his blonde curls under the water. "I can't wait to get this goo out of my hair," he said as he emerged. "And I've got sand in places I didn't even know I had places!" He rubbed some of the bubbles into his hair, where they began to froth with the viscous green substance that cemented together the curls over his left ear.

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't have sand in those places if you'd stayed at the Academy. I thought you had a study session with Feducious today."

“Herc, I went to Corinth on a legitimate errand. Cheiron sent me to pick up a load of watermelons.”

“And you thought a chariot would be a good way to deliver them?”

“No.” Iolaus scooped up another handful of soap bubbles and scrubbed vigorously at his hair. “No, I was driving the Academy wagon. At least, I was when I left the Academy,” he added under his breath.

"And I suppose it wasn’t your fault that the Egyptian ambassador’s sedan chair was upset in the middle of the street." Hercules frowned as he began to scrape something he didn't even want to identify off his skin.

“No, it wasn’t. I was minding my own business when he came by. It wasn’t my fault that those kids had a lemonade stand on that corner.”

“And you just had to stop.”

“Yes, I did, Herc. It was a hot day and I’d just loaded about a thousand pounds of watermelons. Besides, you know how much I love lemonade.” Iolaus ducked his head under the water again. “It wasn’t as good as your Mom’s, though,” he said a moment later as he pushed his dripping hair back from his forehead. “Alcmene makes the best lemonade in the world!”

“Don’t try to change the subject!” said Hercules, still scrubbing his left arm. “Tell me again why the Egyptians wanted Jason to chop off your…”

“Stop right there, Hercules. Nobody is chopping anything off me.” Iolaus sank down until the soapy water covered him to his chin, and leaned his head against the side of the bathtub.

“Not that you wouldn’t look cute with a palm frond, waving flies off the Egyptian queen’s lunch.”

“Herc, I am not going to Egypt with or without a palm frond!” Hercules ducked as a sponge full of soapy water flew toward his head.

“Okay, okay!” Hercules sighed as he reached for the bottle of bubble bath. “Tell again me how you ended up with the chariot.”

“It was much faster than the wagon, especially with the watermelons. We never would have caught up to those guys in the wagon!”

Hercules had no comment. The chariot was certainly faster than the wagon, even without its load of watermelons.

“But, how did you know that that guy had grabbed the ambassador’s purse?” the demi-god finally asked.

“Herc, he was so obvious,” returned the former thief in a tone of disdain. “Even you would have seen it.”

“But, he said he had only stopped to help the ambassador after the crash.”

“Oh, yeah. Help him to lighten his load by stealing his money!”

“So you grabbed the nearest chariot to chase him? The Egyptians thought you were just fleeing the scene.”

“I didn’t have time to explain, Herc. The guy was getting away!”

“You grabbed a chariot that just happens to belong to the richest merchant in Corinth and you left the Egyptian ambassador in the street covered with watermelons.”

“I didn’t stop to ask whose chariot it was, Herc. And the ambassador wasn’t covered with watermelons. He was sort of…surrounded by them,” Iolaus tried to explain the events that had happened before he had seen Hercules as he raced past Jason’s palace.

Hercules had wondered what was happening when he realized it was Iolaus driving a very expensive chariot like a maniac through the streets of Corinth, but when he’d heard his friend shout for help, he had jumped into the moving chariot without a question. Only now did he have a chance to find out the background to the unexpected events of his Saturday afternoon.

“So that wasn’t the Corinthian police chasing you?”

“Not at first, no. Those were the ambassador’s own guards, I think,” said Iolaus, running his fingers through his still-sticky hair. “I didn’t really pay attention. I didn’t want to lose the bad guys.”

“The Corinthian police must have been sent by the chariot owner, then,” Hercules said.

“No, I think he sent those other chariots. The ones with the goat heads? Those were his own security.”

Hercules vaguely remembered the two black chariots. He’d had time for only a glimpse over his shoulder as they raced through the North Gate out of Corinth. “Maybe the police were just chasing you for all the traffic violations. How fast were you going, anyway?” he asked.

“As fast as I could!” Iolaus remembered few details of the chase, but the two black horses pulling the chariot he had “borrowed” were real speed demons, and they had almost seemed to fly over the road without touching the ground.

“Hey, Herc, what do you think? Maybe I should enter the races at the next games! I just need a chariot and a sponsor. Maybe Capricornus would sponsor me! His goat head logo would look great on a racing chariot! What d’ya think?” He sat up and shook imaginary reins, pretending to drive a powerful team through the bathtub.

“You’re changing the subject, again,” said Hercules shortly. “And I don’t think Capricornus will sponsor you.”

“Just keeping my options open, Herc,” said Iolaus, undeterred. He poured some bubble bath directly onto his head. “Geez, this stuff is hard to get out,” he said, scrubbing hard as he disappeared under a froth of soap bubbles.

“Okay, so you took Capricornus’s chariot to chase the thieves,” said Hercules, still trying to sort out the sequence of events.

“Yes! And we would have caught them sooner if they hadn’t veered off the road into the desert!” asserted Iolaus, wiping bubbles off his forehead.

Hercules looked at the blister on his right hand from where he’d gripped the edge of the chariot as it had careened over the rocky edge of Death Valley. “Why didn’t you stop?” he asked. “The sand mantas would have taken care of the thieves.”

“I know, but they would have eaten the ambassador’s purse, too!” Iolaus once more ducked his curly head under the water. “We were lucky they hit that rock and had to stop!”

“Lucky! When they hit that rock they woke up every manta for miles around!”

“Yes, lucky. Just imagine if we’d gotten all the way out to those rock cairns.” Iolaus shivered despite the warm bathwater as he remembered his first encounter with the giant sand swimming monsters that lived in the forbidden desert. Death Valley well deserved its name.

“But did you have to jump out of the chariot like that?” asked Hercules. He looked at the blister on his left hand from where he’d grabbed the reins Iolaus had handed him as he had leapt from the vehicle, shouting at him to turn around and be ready to drive like a bat out of Hades.

“Herc, the guy was gonna run!” Iolaus shifted his position in the bathtub. “That must be how that sand got there! When I was wrestling with him.”

“Too bad you couldn’t stop the getaway driver.” Hercules shook his head as he remembered the fleeing man’s scream as the giant manta leapt out of the sand behind him.

“Yeah, that was too bad,” said Iolaus quietly. “It’s a terrible way to go, Herc, even for a bad guy.”

“Well, I’m starting to get pruny,” Iolaus said after a moment of silence. He reached for a towel as he stood up, dripping water and soap bubbles.

“Did you manage to get all the goo out of your hair?” asked Hercules. “I hope I never see another sand manta again. They are so disgusting! I’d rather have dung beetles crawling on me than be covered with sand manta guts.” He gave his arm a last swipe before he also stood up and began vigorously drying himself with a large towel.

“Well, the fact that two of them jumped up at the same time and crashed right over us might have something to do with the mess!” Iolaus reached for his pants. “The Palace laundry really did a good job!” he said, sniffing at the garment. “They hardly smell at all!”

“Nothing but the best here,” said Jason, entering the bathroom. “Are you guys ready for dinner yet?”

Dinner was the least he could offer his friends in exchange for the most interesting day in his court yet. Once Iolaus had explained why he had to “borrow” Capricornus’s chariot, and Hercules had explained how Iolaus had singlehandedly tackled the thief in the middle of a sand manta swarm, and Jason had explained to the Egyptians the finer points of Corinthian law, the magistrate finally agreed to dismiss the speeding charges, Capricornus decided not to bring chariot theft charges, and the Egyptians reluctantly rescinded their demands for a certain amputation.

“Dinner! You bet,” cried Iolaus, thrusting a leg into his freshly laundered pants. “Is the ambassador going to be there?” he asked as he did up the laces.

“Yes, he is. And Capricornus. And Cheiron.”

“Cheiron?” Iolaus stopped dressing with one arm into his vest.

“Yes, Cheiron. He wants to hear the whole story, Iolaus. From you.”

“Oh.”

“After all, it isn’t every day that one of his cadets is chased through the city by three different law enforcement agencies. And he really wants to know what happened to his watermelons.”

THE END

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