The Seal of Amyclae

Jason was bored. The councilors in his cabinet had been droning on for the entire afternoon about highway improvement, housing improvement, zoning regulations, marketing regulations, import quotas, export quotas, and all the other things in which the King of Corinth should be vitally interested. What he was interested in was a game of bag ball with Hercules and Iolaus. He pretended to follow the discussion, but from the corner of his eye he could see the sun shining into the courtyard of the Palace below and he imagined his fellow cadets kicking the old ball around the courtyard of the Academy.

"Your Majesty?" He started as he realized the Minister of Finance was addressing him. "Your Majesty, don't you agree that a surcharge of one-tenth of a dinar should be added to the tax valuation on the property in the central market area of the city?" Since he hadn't heard any of the arguments either way, His Majesty had no idea.

"Gentlemen, I think we should consider the question at the next meeting. There's no sense in rushing into things, after all." Jason hoped his face did not betray his boredom and inattention as he looked around the table. "If that's all, I adjourn this meeting," he said in his firmest voice, rising from the table. The councilors could do nothing but rise to their own feet as the King did.

Jason walked quickly from the council chamber, handing his long official robe to a servant as he passed. Ignoring the protests of the Minister of Protocol, he stepped out into the sunlight and took a deep breath. The best part of the day was gone, but there was still time for a short game of bag ball and a quick drink at Kora's with the guys.

"Your Majesty, don't forget the banquet tonight in honor of the Amyclaean ambassador," called the Minister as the King clambered down the grand staircase from the palace. Stifling a groan, Jason assured the man he would be back in time. No time for Kora's, but bag ball still beckoned.

***

Iolaus was bored. Feducius had been droning on all afternoon about the history of Corinth, the history of Athens, the history of Sparta, the history of Thebes. This special tutoring might help him stay in the Academy, but it wasn't much fun to be cooped up in the office when the rest of the cadets were free for the day. Even Hercules had gone to visit his mother and Jason was in Corinth, doing his king thing. With a sigh, the reluctant student tried to focus on the lesson at hand.

"So, you see, the enmity of Athens and Sparta has been long standing, although there's not been any open warfare for many years," explained Feducius, pacing back and forth in front of his desk. "Each has tried to keep an eye on the other with a network of spies and secret agents, to make sure its enemy does not gain the advantage in weapons or military strategy. Corinth has been the mediator in diplomatic negotiations." He stopped pacing directly in front of Iolaus. "Your friend King Jason is in a delicate position between these two cities," he added with a stern look.

Jason's name caught Iolaus's attention. Looking up sheepishly at Feducius, he shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, hoping his tutor hadn't noticed his inattention. "Jason?" he asked.

"Yes?" It was the King of Corinth himself, leaning an elbow against the doorframe of Feducius's office.

"Your Majesty," Feducius greeted his former student with a slight bow.

"Hey, Feducius," replied Jason heartily, grasping the tutor's forearm. "How are you? Still trying to grind some knowledge into Iolaus, I see."

"Hey, Jase! Good to see you." Iolaus grasped his friend's forearm in his turn.

"Feducius, how about letting Iolaus come out to play?" asked Jason. Iolaus echoed the question with a pleading look.

With a sigh Feducius said, "I think he's learned all he's going to today."

"Thanks, Feducius!" cried Iolaus. The two young men headed outdoors as Feducius began to put the scrolls away with a shake of his head.

"Where's Herc?" asked Jason. "Let's get a game of bag ball going!"

"Oh, he's gone to visit Alcmene," replied Iolaus as they headed for the courtyard. "How about some one-on-one?" he proposed, stripping off his vest.

"You're on!" agreed Jason, flipping him the ball. "Think fast!"

The sun was touching the Academy roof when Jason called a halt to the game.

"Hey, you can't quit while you're ahead," protested Iolaus, leaning his hands on his knees and still panting from his last scoring attempt.

"I've got to get back to the Palace for a diplomatic dinner," explained Jason. "Why don't you come with me? You know the cooks will be at their best for a state occasion," he added with a grin.

"How can I refuse a royal request?" laughed Iolaus, putting the ball away. He donned his vest as they went through the Academy gates, headed for Corinth.

***

The Palace of Corinth was ablaze with torches to welcome the King's guests. Guards in parade dress uniform lined the approach to the front gate, which was draped with brightly colored banners and garlands of flowers. All the foreign embassies in the city were sending contingents of diplomats to greet the new ambassador from Amyclae. The crowds entering the Palace were dressed in the finery of all nations, decked out in jewels, furs, feathers, and fine silks in all colors of the rainbow.

The Corinthian Minister of Protocol and his staff were hard pressed to keep control and maintain the proper order of precedence among the many dignitaries. The Athenians were very sensitive, insisting on strict formality. The Spartans were very demanding, asking questions about every arrangement and every guest. Minister Dormius suspected the Spartan chief of staff was not really a secretary but a spy from the Black Eagle, the secret police.

He consulted his guest list again. Dormius was determined to make a good impression tonight at King Jason's first diplomatic reception. By careful planning, he could keep the risk of an embarrassing incident at a minimum. He and the King had discussed at some length the most minute details of the proper procedures and formalities required at such a function. But, thought Dormius gloomily, all his work would be in vain if His Majesty failed to appear.

"No sign of the King, yet?" asked the Minister's young aide, just come back from another circuit of the reception hall.

"If he isn't here in five minutes, we go to plan beta, Androcles," said the Minister, making a quick decision. "His Majesty has suddenly been taken ill. Pass the word and wait for my signal."

***

Jason pulled Iolaus aside as they approached the Palace precincts. "Let's go around to the secret entrance to the royal quarters," he said. "I'm late already and I'll never make it through this crowd."

"Secret entrance?" asked Iolaus, with a raised eyebrow. "You never told us about a secret entrance. Sounds like a good way to get girls in," he suggested with a throaty growl.

"Iolaus," scolded Jason as they turned to the right away from the plaza in front of the Palace.

"What?" asked his friend, following him around the base of the Palace wall. "It seems like a perfect way to party without those stodgy old ministers of yours ever finding out about it. You know they want the name, rank, and serial number of every girl you meet."

In a narrow alley behind the Palace, Jason stopped at a spot marked by an indent in the high wall. He pulled aside a dense curtain of tangled vines revealing a wooden door that had been completely hidden behind the foliage. Pushing against the door, he and Iolaus entered a narrow passageway dimly lit by small windows set high in the wall. Jason carefully closed the door behind them and led the way to a spiral stairway at the other end of the passage.

"Don't you have to lock the door?" asked Iolaus.

"No. It locks automatically. It would be too easy for a key to be lost or stolen, so we rely on its secrecy. You are now one of only four people who know of its existence. And don't tell anyone!" Jason stressed.

"No parties?" asked the disappointed Iolaus. He followed Jason up the tightly turning staircase until they reached a tiny landing. Jason stopped to peer through a spy hole in the door before opening it.

"Can't be too careful," he whispered. "Don't want to surprise anyone."

The young men found themselves in the private study in Jason's chambers. The door to the staircase was neatly hidden behind the ornately carved wooden paneling. Iolaus studied the wall. "How do you get in from this end?" he asked, running a hand over the carved designs, looking for a catch.

"It's here," said Jason, touching a grotesque face among the foliage. "They say it's a self portrait of Morbius, the artist who carved the door. Remember, don't tell anyone about this," he repeated his warning.

As Iolaus studied Morbius's ugly little face, Jason went quickly through to his bedchamber to change for the reception. Iolaus joined him just as he was placing a jeweled crown on his head. Leaning against the doorframe with folded arms, Iolaus watched his Academy classmate become the King of Corinth. Wearing a long formal robe of deep blue velvet, a heavy gold necklace, and the crown, Jason looked every inch the part.

"You know, Jase, I think I'll pass on the banquet," said Iolaus.

"Oh, come on, Iolaus," said Jason, adjusting his robe in front of the mirror. "Why?"

"Well, for one thing, I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion," said Iolaus with a wry smile, indicating his well-worn clothing. "I'm just not the royal banquet type, I guess. I think I'll go back to Kora's for supper."

Before he could argue with his friend, Jason was interrupted by a knock on the hall door of the bedchamber. "Your Majesty? Your Majesty, are you there? The guests are waiting!" came an anxious voice.

"I've got to go, Iolaus " said Jason, heading for the door. "Stay and wait for me. I'll have them bring you something to eat here." He opened the door and was at once surrounded by protocol staff led by the aide Androcles. The look of relief on the young bureaucrat's face was almost comical as he led the way to the reception hall.

***

Iolaus was left standing in Jason's chamber alone. With a sigh, he took another look at himself in the long mirror. He held one of Jason's royal robes up in front of his chest to see the effect. No, he was definitely not the royal banquet type. He sat down to wait for the supper Jason had promised but after a few minutes he got up and began to prowl around the richly appointed bedchamber. Jason's life in Corinth was so different from the life they shared at the Academy. The big bed was draped with velvet hangings; deep carpets covered the polished wood floor. Not like Cheiron's dormitory at all.

Iolaus wandered back into the study. Here too the furniture was fine and the appointments luxurious. He found Morbius' carved face in the paneling and was just about to try to open the secret door when he heard someone come into the bedchamber. Supper! Assuming an innocent air, the hungry cadet went back into the other room. He was disappointed to find the newcomer was not a waiter serving up a steaming tray, but a valet sorting the robes strewn around in front of the mirror.

The man started at his entrance, but quickly regained his composure. "Can I help you?" he asked, looking Iolaus up and down. Clutching a bundle of clothing to his chest, he looked around the room as if he were counting the candlesticks.

Iolaus shrugged as he caught another glimpse of his tousled hair and patchwork vest in the gold-framed mirror. "No. No, I don't think you can." he said. He turned toward the main door of the room. "I was just leaving, anyway." The valet took a quick step back as Iolaus passed him. Jason had obviously forgotten about him. He'd go on back to Kora's where he belonged. If he were careful, he could get out through the kitchen and no one would ever miss him.

***

"Your Majesty! Thank the gods you're here." Protocol Minister Dormius greeted Jason with a low bow. "It's almost time to greet the Athenian ambassador. The Athenians are our oldest allies, you know, and they're very sensitive. The Ambassador would take it as a great insult if you failed to meet him."

"Yes, yes, Dormius. Don't worry, I'm ready." Jason squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and brought his attention to focus on the minister. Surrounded by his concerned staff, the young King put on his best diplomatic face and the party moved toward the elegant and elaborately decorated royal reception hall. Over the door Jason saw the marble bust of his father King Aeson, reminding him of the many responsibilities of his new role. "Here we go, Father," he whispered, "I'll try to do you proud." He heard Minister Dormius announce his entrance, and strode forward ready to meet and greet the diplomats, ministers, and other dignitaries who filled his hall.

The guest of honor was presented last. Amyclaean Ambassador Proclivius proved to be a nervous little man with a shock of gray hair. He was the first ambassador from Amyclae since the time of Jason's grandfather. Sparta had taken over the smaller city on the death of its king over fifty years ago, and had kept Amyclae as a protectorate ever since. With the support of King Aeson of Corinth, Amyclae had petitioned for independence, which had finally been granted. Proclivius presented his credentials to Aeson's son with a low bow, then stood nervously wringing his hands as Jason quickly glanced at the scroll before handing it to Minister Dormius.

"Welcome to Corinth, Ambassador Proclivius. We recognize you as the representative of Amyclae." Jason recited the formula loudly, so all in the hall could hear. "May our cities always remain friends and allies. I am proud to carry out my father's wishes by witnessing after tonight's banquet the return to you from Sparta of the ancient Royal Seal of Amyclae." He reached out and took the little man's forearm in his grasp. Proclivius winced at the King's strong grip, but managed a weak smile to cover his discomfort.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said. "May I present my secretary, Sciron?" There was a slight delay as a young man made his way forward from the back of the crowd. He had close-cropped dark hair and was dressed in black leather severely tailored in the Spartan style. His only ornament was a ring with a black stone.

"Welcome to Corinth," said Jason, taking the secretary's forearm in his right hand. This time he was met with a grip almost as firm as his own and a quick, sharp bow of the head. Sciron had apparently adopted more than his dress from the Spartans. Jason wondered just how pervasive the militaristic Spartan culture had become in Amyclae after fifty years.

As Sciron stepped back, Proclivius gestured toward a woman standing just behind him. "Your Majesty, may I present my wife Aegina?" As she came forward, Jason was surprised to see Aegina was young enough to be the Ambassador's daughter, perhaps about his own age. She rose from her curtsy and looked up at him with a frank smile, long gold earrings swinging nearly to her shoulders.

"It is indeed a pleasure to meet Your Majesty," she said, looking Jason straight in the eye as she placed cool be-ringed fingers in his extended hand. Her voice was pitched low and she had a slight accent Jason couldn't quite place.

"Welcome to Corinth," he greeted her noncommittally as he raised her hand to his lips in formal greeting. The Amyclaean Ambassador's wife was coming on to him! What next? The Ambassador presented another official from his staff and Jason could see a line behind him. If he had a dinar for every time he'd said "Welcome to Corinth" he could declare his people tax-free for a year. Would they never serve dinner? His feet were killing him; the new boots that went with his robe pinched his toes. He'd never remember all the names of all the people being presented to him. Jason sighed. His friends thought he had an easy life. If only they knew!

The maitre d' finally announced that dinner was served. To honor the new ambassador, Jason offered his arm to Aegina to escort her to the banquet table. She took his arm with a firm grip, cool fingers brushing the back of his hand. She settled into the chair on one side of Jason as her husband sat down across from her. Sciron took his place next to the Ambassador. Further down the long table Jason could see the ambassadors from Sparta and Athens eyeing each other warily across the table. How had they come to be seated so close together? Athens had worked with Corinth to negotiate the independence of Amyclae, but the Spartans had only reluctantly agreed to the treaty. Their long enmity had settled into a cold war, and he hoped there would not be a scene here at his first important royal occasion.

The waiters brought in the first course, and Jason turned to Proclivius to practice his new skills at diplomatic small talk.

***

In the hallway outside Jason's apartments, Iolaus paused a moment to get his bearings. He could hear the music and voices of the royal reception in the brightly-lit hall below. The two sentries on guard at the door watched as he turned to his right to look for a back stairway to the kitchens and service areas of the Palace. The upper corridor was well lit near the royal chambers, but got progressively darker as he went along. There were only a few widely spaced and dim oil lamps after he made a sharp turn to his left and entered a narrower hall. Iolaus walked ahead slowly in the gloom. The kitchen stairs must be around here somewhere.

Just as he located the top of the stairs, a dark figure suddenly brushed past him going the other way, almost knocking over one of the lamp stands. Oil spilled from the reservoir, splashing onto Iolaus's boots.

"Hey, watch it!" he called after the rapidly retreating figure. Cursing under his breath, the cadet caught the teetering lamp stand and made sure it was standing firmly before he turned and went down the narrow stairs toward the kitchen.

The staircase doubled back on itself at a landing halfway down. When he turned the corner, a sight of apparent confusion greeted Iolaus. Cooks and scullery maids scurried hither and yon with pots, pans, and platters of food. Under the stern eye of the maitre d' a flock of waiters were tying on white aprons. Bottles of wine were being opened and silver trays polished.

"Maybe I don't have to go to Kora's for supper after all," thought the hungry Iolaus, his mouth watering at the sight of the meal preparations. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he grabbed a large white napkin from a pile on a nearby table. He filled it with fruit, cheese, and bread, gradually making his way toward the exit. As he passed the last table, he picked up a roasted chicken leg and added it to his bundle as he slipped out into the courtyard.

Settling down on a bench near the kitchen well, Iolaus began to eat his carry-out meal. Servants in various liveries passed him as they went about their business, but none spoke to him or even seemed to notice him. He watched the Athenians in their red and white pointedly avoiding the black-clad Spartans as groups from other embassies discretely minded their own business. Iolaus munched an apple from Jason's orchard. What a life! Always having to be on your best behavior for fear of offending somebody. Jason had once called him Iolaus of Nothing, and tonight he was happy to be just that as he watched the embassy servants warily watching each other.

As he was licking the last crumbs of his supper off his fingers, he noticed a pretty kitchen maid coming toward the well with a bucket. The night was still young, why hurry back to the Academy? There were no girls at the Academy anyway; even Lilith had gone to visit her sister. Running his fingers through his tousled curls in a rough comb, Iolaus jumped to his feet as the girl approached.

"Let me help you with that," he offered gallantly, taking the bucket.

"Thanks," the girl returned with a sigh. She sank down onto the bench. "I've been running all day for this banquet. It's the biggest thing to happen in Corinth since King Jason was crowned." She stretched her legs out in front of her and began flexing very shapely ankles. "It feels great to sit for a moment. My feet are killing me."

Trying to prolong the conversation so he could look at her ankles, Iolaus asked the girl if she had been working at the Palace long.

"Oh, no," she replied. "They hired a lot of extra help for tonight. Normally, King Jason lives very simply, and the permanent kitchen staff is small," she said with an insider's knowing tone. "I was lucky to be hired for the whole week. Since so many people are staying at the Palace, a lot of extra food service is required. I took the Amyclaean Ambassador's wife her breakfast in bed this morning," she added proudly. "You should see what she's wearing tonight! Her clothes are the latest from Athens."

"Athens?" asked Iolaus, still staring at the girl's legs as he pulled up the water-filled bucket. "I thought you said she was from Amyclae."

"Oh, she's married to Proclivius of Amyclae, but she's from Athens," said the girl. "Or at least, she does all her shopping there! Thanks for your help with the water," she added, reaching for the bucket.

"I'll take it," said Iolaus quickly, figuring he could get in a little more conversation on the way to the kitchen door. Clearing his throat, he introduced himself and tried, "How about a slow walk in the moonlight? Just you, me, the stars..."

The girl looked at Iolaus with a smile and a raised eyebrow. "I'm Corina," she replied. "But, I can't come out until the banquet is over. Come in with me and I'll show you a place where you can wait." Before he knew it, Iolaus was back inside the Palace, following his new acquaintance as she weaved her way through the kitchen among the many cooks and servers.

"Go up these stairs to the minstrels' gallery," Corina directed him, pointing to a narrow staircase leading up from the butler's pantry. "You can see everything from there. Just try to keep out of sight yourself. Come back to the kitchen when the King calls for the entertainment. I can leave then." With a smile she left him there and rejoined the chaos of the banquet preparations.

Scarcely believing his good fortune at the prospect of a midnight walk, Iolaus quickly climbed the stairs to the gallery. On one side it overlooked the banquet hall, on the other the reception hall. A single lyre player was providing some music for the diners, but otherwise the large balcony was empty. Iolaus stepped from the landing, being careful not to disturb the musician. He crept slowly to the front rail of the gallery and settled himself behind the red velvet drapery that hung from the ceiling in elegant swags.

From here he could see Jason sitting at the head of the long table, sharing a laugh with a little man on his right. The man in black in the second place did not seem amused by Jason's remarks, but sat rigidly before a plate he'd barely touched. On Jason's other side was a beautiful young woman in an elegant green dress. Although he was no fashion expert, the cadet realized this must be The Latest Thing from Athens, elaborately beaded and very low cut. The dress was complimented by a fine gold necklace and a jeweled pendant whose value the former thief did recognize. Iolaus was amused to observe how the glamorous Athenian kept trying to flirt with Jason, putting her hand on his arm to get his attention away from the two men across the table from her. With a smug smile, he bet himself a dinar that even so Jason would not be getting a walk in the moonlight tonight.

His gaze traveled down the table as he studied the other diners. One of the diplomats was being served by his own waiter, not one of the palace staff. Another had a taster behind his chair, who delicately took a bite of the food being served before passing the dish to his master. Iolaus shook his head at the precautions. At least nobody at Kora's would ever bother to try to poison Iolaus of Nothing.

He turned his attention to a waiter serving at the foot of the table. His expert eye observed the man neatly pick the pocket of a diner as he leaned forward with a tray of food. He would have to warn Jason to be more careful about who he hired to work at the Palace. The reformed thief nodded in admiration of the pickpocket's technique. He went nonchalantly about his business, not attracting any attention to himself as he made his way to the kitchen with the empty tray in his hand and the diner's purse in his pocket.

As the waiters began to exchange one course for the next, Iolaus watched as the young protocol aide who had escorted Jason to the reception approached the King and whispered something in his ear. Jason acknowledged him with a nod and took a sip of wine. Then he rose from his place with a bow to the man on his right and followed the messenger from the banquet hall. The dark look on the face of the elegant Athenian which followed Jason's exit was quickly replaced with a charming smile as she raised her wineglass and turned to the man seated on her other side.

***

The ancient Royal Seal of Amyclae was missing. As a condition of the treaty of independence, the Athenian delegation had brought the Seal to Corinth for presentation to Ambassador Proclivius and had been keeping it in its jeweled casket in the diplomatic quarters. Now the Seal's black velvet bag, embroidered in gold thread with ancient symbols of Amyclae, had been found beside the body of a murdered man. But the Seal itself was nowhere to be found. Only Jason, Minister Dormius, and his aide Androcles knew that doom threatened Corinth.

"Your Majesty, if we don't find the missing Seal, Corinth will be implicated in its loss! We'll lose the trust of our neutrality. All your father's work will have been in vain. After all, the Ambassador is a guest in your house. The Athenians will take this as the gravest of insults!" Minister Dormius paced up and down the council chamber wringing his hands. "The Spartans will probably declare war! We have got to find and return the Seal before its loss is discovered."

The King sat at the head of the council table, a frown on his face. "What can I do?" he asked. "Corinth can't be involved in this." Jason tried to think. His reign would collapse if he became implicated in such a scandal. Corinth would lose its respected place as arbiter among the other city-states. And Dormius was probably right: there would be war. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to organize his thoughts. He had to do something to save his city and its people. "We can't use any of our regular agents," he said as last.

"Oh, no!" agreed Dormius, stopping his pacing across the table from the King. "If it were known that Corinthian agents were involved it would be a disaster!" He shook his head as he stood with a hand to his face. "But, where can we find someone on such short notice with the skills to find the royal seal, get hold of it, and return it to the Athenian ambassador's chambers without anyone knowing about it? Someone who can be trusted, whose loyalty to you is unquestioned?"

"Iolaus," said Jason under his breath. Iolaus could do it. But would he? If he were caught, Jason would have to deny any knowledge of his actions. As King, he'd have to condemn one of his best friends as a thief and a traitor and send him to prison or worse. It was the only chance, though. Time was short. He could delay the Presentation Ceremony for a little while, but people would get suspicious if he kept it too long. He made up his mind.

"Iolaus," repeated Jason aloud, seeing the Minister's questioning look. "Iolaus can do it."

"But, Your Majesty, he's so...so..." protested Dormius, waving a hand as if trying to grasp the right word out of the air. "He's a felon, a criminal."

"A thief?" continued Jason. "Well, isn't that what you just said we needed? I trust him. That should be good enough for you. He's waiting for me in my chambers. Go get him and bring him to the old guardroom!" he ordered as he rose to his feet, ignoring the Minister's protests. "But don't make a scene about it. No one must suspect that anything is wrong. Call me away from the banquet when you've found him. I'll talk to him myself." With that, the King of Corinth straightened his robe, put on a polite smile, and returned to his guests.

"He's not in the King's chambers," said Androcles, as he closed the door behind the King.

"What? Where is he?" cried Dormius. "If we can't find him...." The minister's voice trailed off with a groan as the consequences of the situation crowded his mind.

"I know where he is," replied Androcles, smugly. "He's up on the musicians' gallery, trying to hide behind the draperies, spying on his betters."

"Thank the gods he's still in the Palace!" said the Protocol Minister, wiping his brow with an elegant silk handkerchief. "Go at once!" he ordered. As Androcles turned toward the door he added, "And take a guard with you just in case he's...reluctant. The King may trust him, but I don't." Following his aide from the room, Dormius too put on a smile and headed toward the banquet hall, already trying to think of a way to spin a major catastrophe into a minor incident.

***

Jason seemed to be gone from the dinner table a very long time. Now, Jason of Corinth would be worth poisoning. Just as Iolaus began to worry in earnest, he saw his friend return to his place and continue with dinner. Another course had been served in his absence, and he dug in enthusiastically. The Athenian babe was all smiles as she greeted his return; the little man across the table seemed concerned, then calmed by Jason's reassurances.

"Guess that's okay, then," Iolaus thought, relaxing as he realized Jason was all right.

"Don't turn around or make a noise!" The quiet voice in his ear startled him, but not as much as the feel of something small and sharp in the small of his back. He turned his head slightly and saw the young messenger from the banquet hall standing next to him.

"What?" he asked in an insulted tone. Patting his vest, he said, "I know I have my ticket for this seat here somewhere."

The court official did not seem amused by his feeble attempt at a joke. "Come with us. The King wants to see you."

"He can see me just fine if I step out from behind this curtain," returned Iolaus, putting a foot forward. The pressure in his back increased and a strong hand twisted his right arm behind him sharply.

"What's with the goon squad?" protested Iolaus, trying to free himself from the iron grip on his wrist.

"Let's just go quietly, shall we?" said the young official, taking Iolaus's other arm. He fell in beside the cadet as the other man pushed Iolaus along in front of him. The three went down the stairs and through the kitchen without a pause. In the courtyard, the guard finally released his grip on Iolaus's arm, but quickly snapped a handcuff on his wrist, then pinioned his arms behind him. With a nod, the young aide left them and headed back into the Palace.

"What is going on?" demanded Iolaus as the guard led him across the courtyard toward the dark door of the old dungeon. Without a word, the soldier dragged the outraged cadet through the door of the guardroom, locking the door behind them.

"Just sit down and don't make any trouble," grunted the soldier, sitting down himself at the table in the center of the room.

"You just wait 'til my friend King Jason hears about this!" stormed Iolaus, leaning over the table into the man's face. "He'll have your head!"

"It's his orders," grunted the guard. "Now siddown." He gave Iolaus a push on the chest that sent him reeling onto the bench against the wall.

What was going on? What was up with Jason, that he would order his best friend's arrest like this? Just for being up on the musicians' gallery? No, that couldn't be right. Jason hadn't ordered his arrest. Iolaus didn't believe Jason even knew of it. There must be some mistake. He sized up the guard, but realized he was no match for him, especially in handcuffs. He glanced around the room, seeking a way of escape, but the only ways out were past the guard or into the dungeon. The silence in the small room grew as the guard pointedly ignored him as he carefully polished his dagger.

Finally, the prisoner heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside in the courtyard. When he heard the sound of the key in the door, Iolaus braced himself to make a dash for freedom. As the door opened, he lowered his head and ran-straight into a solid velvet-covered wall.

"Iolaus!" It was Jason, steadying him with hands on either arm. "What's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with me? What's the matter with you, you mean!" cried Iolaus. He turned, showing Jason his bound hands.

"What is the meaning of this?" Jason asked the guard, who responded with a shrug.

"Androcles?" The King redirected his question to his protocol aide, who had followed him into the room. But before Androcles could respond Jason had grabbed the handcuff key from the table and freed Iolaus.

"Iolaus, I'm sorry," he said to his friend. "I told them to find you, but I figured you'd come willingly."

"They didn't give me a chance," replied Iolaus, rubbing his wrist as he glared at Androcles.

"Your Majesty," began the abashed aide, but the King's command cut him off.

"Get out!" ordered Jason. "I want to talk to Iolaus alone."

***

"Iolaus, I know it's dangerous, but everything depends on that Seal being returned before anyone misses it." Jason had explained the dire situation as briefly as possible before asking for his friend's help. "Please," he asked. "You've got to do it. If the theft becomes public, it's all over. I can't acknowledge I know anything about it, much less do anything myself to get it back. I can give you information and some time to operate. But that's all I can do."

After a pause he added, "I know you can do it, Iolaus. You have to do it. If you don't do it, I'm done as king. War could break out. Lots of people will be killed. Please."

Iolaus rose from his seat at the guardroom table and began to prowl around the room. "Jason, you know I gave up thievery for good when they let me go to the Academy on probation. Besides, sneaking around royal palaces is a little out of my league. If you needed fruit from a marketplace stall, now, that I could help you with." Iolaus gave a wry smile, folding his arms as he leaned his shoulders against the wall. He looked over at Jason from under knitted brows. He'd never seen his friend, usually so brash and confident, look so scared. He chewed his lip as he thought. His safe cracking skills were a little rusty from disuse, but if the Seal was still in the Palace, he could find it. Picking the lock to the Ambassador's quarters he could probably do in his sleep.

"What if I get caught?" he asked.

Jason looked up at him with a strained expression. "I can't help you,' he said simply. "I can't admit I know anything about what you're doing. The security of Corinth depends on us not getting involved."

So, that was that. If he blew it, Jason would throw him to the wolves. But if he didn't even try, Jason would be dog meat. Iolaus let out a long breath and heaved himself off the wall. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

Jason leapt to his feet, his face now registering a glimmer of hope. Wordlessly, he took Iolaus's forearm in a tight grasp.

"I need to see the man who was killed," said Iolaus, beginning to plan the night's work in his head. "And a plan of the Palace with the ambassador's quarters. You go back and stall, stall, stall. Keep everybody in the banquet hall as long as you can."

"All right," agreed Jason, heading for the door to the courtyard. Turning back at the threshold, he said, "Thanks, Iolaus. I owe you one." Then he was gone.

"Yeah, you owe me a big one," said Iolaus under his breath as the door closed.

***

The stairs from the guardroom down to the disused dungeon were narrow and steep. "Good place to hide a body," muttered Iolaus as he neared the bottom. "Nobody wants to come down here...especially me." He followed a faint glimmer of lamplight to an open door on his right. Inside the cell he could see a sheet-draped form lying on a table. He knew the body of the murdered man had been carefully searched, but he wanted to see for himself. The Seal might still be there, hidden somewhere mere law-abiding types might have overlooked. At the very least he might learn something about the circumstances of the killing or the theft.

The single dim lamp cast eerie shadows around the room as he approached the still shape on the table.

"Do you need another lamp?"

The unexpected voice made the reluctant special agent jump nearly to the ceiling. His heart pounding and the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, Iolaus whirled quickly, assuming a crouched position of self-defense.

"You!" Iolaus gave a deep sigh of relief as he recognized the Palace official who had engineered his arrest. The young man's face was ghastly pale and his voice shook as he repeated his offer. "I just asked if you needed more light, for the gods' sake. You don't have to kill me!" he cried, backing up against the doorframe.

"Don't tempt me," returned Iolaus, relaxing his fighting stance. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked.

"King Jason asked me to help you with...the problem," said the young man.

The ensuing silence lengthened, as Iolaus stood staring in disbelief. What help could this officious little prig possibly offer?

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened earlier," Androcles finally said. "I just didn't know what to expect and my orders were to bring you here by any means...." His voice trailed off. Opening his outer robe, he pulled out a long scroll. "Here are plans of the Palace," he said, offering Iolaus the roll. "I can show you where the ambassadors are staying." He fumbled in his robe. "And here is a drawing of the Seal," he said, pulling out a small parchment.

Iolaus reached out a hand for the drawing with a sigh. If they were going to have to work together, they might as well get on with it. Time was passing, and Jason's predicament was more important than his grievance against this...this bureaucrat. Iolaus tucked the drawing into his vest and turned back to the task at hand. He approached the lifeless form on the table for a second time. He lifted the covering sheet and asked, "Where did you find him?"

"In the west wing," replied Androcles. "I notified Minister Dormius at once. He's the one who recognized the Seal's bag," added the protocol aide, indicating a hand-sized black and gold object lying next to the body. "He saw it this morning during rehearsal of the Presentation Ceremony."

The dead man was wearing the livery of the Athenian embassy, covered by a long dark green cloak. His neck had been broken. "Poor bastard. At least it was quick," muttered Iolaus.

He rapidly searched the dead man's clothes for any clues as to the whereabouts of the stolen Seal or the identity of the killer. He noticed that the cloak was stained with a splatter of lamp oil. Was this the man who had pushed past him in the upper corridor before the banquet? If so, he must have been killed not long after Iolaus had seen him. It hadn't been that much later that Jason had been called away from the table with the news of the murder.

On the man's right hand was a ring with a black stone engraved with an eagle. Pointing to the ring, Iolaus asked Androcles if he recognized the crest. "It looks pretty valuable for a servant to wear," he commented, thinking aloud.

"Does it?" asked Androcles as he examined the ring. "I know I've seen that device before, but I can't remember where," he said with a frown. "It's not Athenian."

Not finding anything else of interest on the dead man, Iolaus drew the sheet back up over the body and turned his attention to the velvet bag. It was very old, the gold embroidery very fine, and it was very empty.

"Let's look at this upstairs," he suggested, taking the drawing out of his vest and heading out of the room with the bag in his other hand.

"Good idea," agreed Androcles at once, almost treading on Iolaus's heels as he followed him up the narrow staircase.

***

The plans of the Palace nearly covered the large table in the guardroom. Iolaus noticed that the secret passage to Jason's apartment was not included in the detailed blueprint. He wondered how many other secret rooms and passages there might be in the vast Palace complex, none of them indicated on the official plans.

"Here's where I found him, in the Eros Garden," said Androcles, pointing to a small courtyard in the west wing of the Palace.

"And what were you doing in the Eros Garden after dark?" asked Iolaus with a raised eyebrow. "Romantic rendezvous?"

"It's called that because of the fountain," said Androcles, blushing.

"Oh, the fountain," said Iolaus with a nod and a wink. "Of course. The fountain."

"It has a statue of Eros," explained Androcles, bristling at Iolaus's knowing wink. "It's a shortcut to the ministry offices. Minister Dormius wanted the updated plans for the Presentation Ceremony. I...I tripped over him." The young bureaucrat shuddered at the memory. "Otherwise we wouldn't have found him until morning."

Iolaus studied the plans. He located the network of corridors from Jason's bedchamber to the kitchen stairs, past the place where he'd seen the mysterious dark figure he now believed was the murdered agent. The man couldn't have gone back past the King's quarters, which were always guarded by sentries. He had been dressed as an Athenian servant and would have been conspicuous near the royal apartments or on the grand stairs. But there was a service staircase at the far end of the corridor where the man had passed Iolaus. Had he been murdered because he had the Seal, or because he didn't have it when he reached the secluded courtyard? Had he planned to meet his murderer there?

"Are the Athenian ambassador's quarters in this part of the Palace?" asked Iolaus, pointing to the plans.

When he saw where Iolaus's finger had landed, Androcles said in a surprised tone, "Yes! How did you know? His suite is right here at the end of the service corridor." His well-manicured finger came down right next to Iolaus's callused one.

"I think I saw the murdered man myself in the service corridor before the banquet," Iolaus explained. "That way would have given him a direct route from the Ambassador's suite to the courtyard." He traced the agent's probable path on the plans.

"Let's see what I'm looking for," he said, taking the small parchment from his vest and unrolling it. A low whistle escaped his lips as he studied the drawing of the Seal of Amyclae. It was a narrow gold cylinder about a hand's span in length. The round seal disk on one end was about as big around as the circle Iolaus could make with his thumb and forefinger. The entire surface was decorated with an intricate pattern of gold granulation and a polished green stone was set in the upper end of the handle. The drawing also showed the pattern of the seal: a stag. Artemis' sacred animal! Maybe it would bring him luck.

"The Seal goes into the bag, which fits inside a gold casket," explained Androcles, demonstrating the size of the chest with his hands.

"Well, I'm going hunting," Iolaus said abruptly, tucking the velvet bag under his belt. He rolled up the plans and the drawing and handed them to Androcles. "Here, take these and go back to the banquet. Keep an eye out for anyone who looks suspicious, like they think something's wrong. And don't let anyone leave the Palace."

"What? What do you mean? Hunting?" Androcles struggled to balance the scrolls Iolaus thrust at him. "Wait! You can't leave now..."

Iolaus cut him off. "If anyone asks, you've never seen me." With a wink, he slipped out the door and disappeared into the night.

***

The hunter decided to start at the end of the trail and work his way back. He'd memorized the relevant parts of the Palace layout, and headed directly for the scene of the crime. The Eros Garden was between the offices of the King's ministers and the Palace library, just the place for a discreet meeting even when the business of Corinth was in full swing. Keeping to the shadows, Iolaus quickly crossed the kitchen yard and entered the Palace by a service door in the back of the west wing. He pressed himself into the corner by the door, making sure he was alone before he proceeded down the dimly lit hallway. A turn to the left, past two doors on the right, up a short flight of stairs, so far, so good.

Through an open archway, Iolaus could see the central fountain playing in the moonlight. A covered cloister went around the open court, and he could barely make out doors on the other three sides. Moving forward stealthily, Iolaus approached the fountain. It was surrounded by rose bushes; their sweet smell filled air. Crouching close to the ground, the hunter searched the flagstone-paved area around the circle of roses. On the opposite side of the court, he found the bushes crushed, red and yellow rose petals strewn about and ground into the pavement.

"This must be where it happened," Iolaus said to himself. He began to search even more carefully. There was no sign of the missing seal, but his sharp eyes caught a glint of something shiny in the fountain basin. "Damn that's cold!" he gasped as he dipped his hand into the water up past the elbow to reach the object. Just as his fingers closed around it, he heard voices approaching. Iolaus ducked around behind the edge of the fountain, clutching his prize tightly in his fist. He held his breath and listened. He could hear the footsteps of two men as they came into the courtyard from the interior corridor.

"No one will find us here," said one of the men. "Show me what you got."

Iolaus could hear a muffled clink of coins and other small metallic objects being passed from hand to hand. The unseen men must be the banquet pickpocket and his partner! Iolaus allowed himself a wry smile at the irony of his situation. The Eros Court seemed to attract crime like a magnet. One murder was enough, however. Iolaus kept still and waited for the thieves to finish their business and depart.

"Let's hope King Jason has lots of banquets!" laughed the second man. "The pickings are great!"

"Get on back to the kitchen before they come looking for you," returned the first voice. "Reliable waiters are likely to be hired again. We'll meet later at the usual place." The two men went back into the Palace.

Iolaus breathed a sigh of relief, but waited another minute before he peered over the rim of the fountain. The coast was clear. He put the object he had retrieved from the water into his pouch for later examination and glanced around the courtyard one more time. Satisfied that he had seen all there was to see there, the young hunter picked up the dead agent's trail as it lead back toward the Ambassador's quarters.

Following the two pickpockets, Iolaus approached the entrance to the interior corridor. The Palace was brightly lit with torches, and he waited just outside the door for his eyes to adjust. A servant carrying a pitcher on a tray passed by without a glance in his direction, followed shortly by two protocol aides. He could hear them discussing the personal habits of the guests in the Palace. Peering around the doorframe, he could see the shoulders of two guards just beyond the end of the office corridor where it met the Great Hall.

Seizing his chance, Iolaus darted quickly across the hall and worked his way to the service stairs, keeping close to the wall. The stairs were steep and narrow, and at the landing mid-way up he paused to peer around the banister to the upper flight. As he leaned forward, his hand felt something slick on the newel post. He smelled the substance on his fingers. It was lamp oil! His guess about the mysterious agent's path was right! He'd come down these stairs after he passed Iolaus in the hall, and his oil-stained cloak had brushed against the post.

No one was there now and Iolaus quickly climbed to the top, going up two steps at a time to the small landing. He put his ear to the closed door to listen for voices or footsteps on the other side. Hearing nothing, he eased the door open a crack and waited again. No sound, no movement were apparent, so he slipped into the corridor, softly closing the door behind him.

***

Jason knew two more banquet courses had been served and cleared, but of the dishes that had been presented he had no memory. What was Iolaus doing? He could see Androcles prowling around the hall, but all the young aide seemed to be doing was wringing his hands and sweating. Jason had caught Androcles' eye soon after he'd come back into the banquet hall, but the only response to his raised eyebrow had been a tiny shrug. The only positive change he could see was an increase in the number of guards around the entrances to the banquet hall.

"Your Majesty, I am so looking forward to the entertainment tonight." Jason felt a hand on his sleeve. It was Aegina, the Ambassador's wife. With an effort he tried to focus his attention on what she was saying. The entertainment. What was it? The End of King Jason, in One Act.

"No! I mean, yes!" Jason brought enough of his attention back to his dinner companion to reply. "We were very lucky to get them," he said, racking his brain to remember what performers had been hired.

"May I help you to some fruit?" he asked, as the waiters began to place on the table dishes piled high with apples, pears, and other produce from the royal orchards. Fruit! It was the last course!

Jason looked around for Minister Dormius and finally spotted him under the musicians' gallery, deep in conversation with the secretary to the Athenian Ambassador. By Dormius's gestures, Jason could guess he was describing the protocol for the Seal Presentation Ceremony. Now that would be exciting entertainment, complete with a surprise ending!

Jason had never felt so useless. He could do nothing to help himself or his people but sit here and pretend that everything was just fine. Meanwhile, the fate of Corinth depended on Iolaus. Iolaus! He must have been out of his mind to ask Iolaus to find the seal of Amyclae. Iolaus, the convicted thief, Iolaus, the uninspired student, Iolaus, the girl-crazy flirt, Iolaus, all hair and attitude. No! Jason took a deep breath. No, not that Iolaus. Iolaus, who could figure a way out of almost any situation, Iolaus, who could track a deer across the most barren rock, Iolaus, who wasn't afraid of anything, Iolaus, who would go through fire, or even water, to help a friend.

"Your Majesty, are you all right?" This time it was Ambassador Proclivius with a hand on his sleeve. Jason saw him exchange a questioning look across the table with his wife.

"Just a little nervous about the presentation ceremony," the young king replied, managing a smile. "I'm very anxious that everything goes smoothly, in honor of my father's commitment to Amyclae. Is everything proceeding as planned?" he asked Minister Dormius, who had approached while he was speaking to the Ambassador. He hoped the Amyclaeans wouldn't notice the emphasis he placed on the question.

"There have been no changes, Your Majesty," replied Dormius. "Androcles tells me things are underway just as you instructed." The minister's raised eyebrow was Jason's only assurance that Iolaus was actually on the trail of the missing Seal. He gritted his teeth as he resisted a powerful urge to leap to his feet and challenge the whole roomful of diplomats and bureaucrats to mortal combat for the seal of Amyclae.

Gripping the edge of the table, King Jason rose to his feet. "Shall we go into the reception hall for the entertainment?" he invited his honored guests with a smile, graciously offering his arm to the beautiful Aegina.

***

No one could hide a dinar here much less the seal of Amyclae, thought Iolaus as he surveyed the polished wooden floor and smooth painted walls of the diplomatic corridor. He knew the agent had not hidden the Seal in the service hall he'd just come through for the second time, since he'd been there himself as the man ran through it. There was not a piece of furniture, a vase of flowers, a pot plant, or a lamp stand to offer a place for the stolen seal. There were no tapestries on the walls and the chandeliers that lit the hall were much too high to reach. The only things in the hall were the flags that distinguished the quarters of the various ambassadors. The red and white flag of Athens stood outside a door on the left side of the corridor, a green flag marked a door a little way beyond as the embassy of Amyclae.

As he put a hand on the Athenian ambassador's door handle, Iolaus heard footsteps. They were coming towards him from around the corner, from the service hall behind him. He grabbed the door handle and he tugged, but it wouldn't move. The door was locked. He whirled around and in two steps was across the hall, trying the door beside the green flag. To the desperate Iolaus's relief, the handle lifted with his tug and the door swung inward. He slipped inside and held his breath, quietly easing closed the lock bolt, hoping whoever it was in the hall was not an Amyclaean. The footsteps stopped at the Athenian's door, and Iolaus heard the rattle of the knob.

"Check this every quarter hour until the Ambassador comes to get the Seal!" said a deep voice.

"Yes, sir!" replied another man. The guards crossed the hall and tried the Amyclaean's doorknob, shaking the door on which Iolaus leaned his forehead. He held his breath as the footsteps retreated out of hearing.

Oh, great! Regular guard patrols! Thank Artemis they weren't posting a man on the door. And speaking of doors, the guards had expected to find this door locked. But it had not been a moment earlier, fortunately, or he'd be toast by now. What was up with that?

Finally letting his breath out, Iolaus turned and assessed his surroundings. The empty room was dimly lit from the banked fire in the hearth and seemed to be the reception hall of a suite of chambers. There was large table surrounded by chairs in front of the fireplace. Near the entrance door was a smaller desk covered with parchments and scrolls, pens and inkwells. Iolaus picked up a small penknife, weighing it in his hand. A good all-purpose tool, useful for so much more than just sharpening quills. It would make a very good lock pick.

As Iolaus put the knife in his pouch, his fingers touched the object he'd pulled out of the fountain. What was it? He'd need more light to see it. He pulled out the object and his flint, striking a spark to light one of the candles on the desk. By the candle flame he could see that what he had was a small buckle, with a bit of black leather still attached at the shank. Had it been pulled from the killer's clothing during the attack? Iolaus put the buckle back in his pouch. Just another question to add to the list, right under "Why was the door to the Amyclaean ambassador's quarters unlocked?" What he needed was some answers, not more questions.

Taking the candle he'd lit, the hunter began a quick survey of the Amyclaean suite. Across from the fireplace, two steps led up to an alcove. What was that on the polished wooden step? The candle illuminated something small and red. Iolaus picked it up. It was a rose petal, crushed at one side and slightly wilted.

Iolaus peered into the rooms branching off the alcove. The first one he looked into was a small bedroom. There were no personal possessions scattered about, just one small tightly-strapped traveling bag on the bench under the window. All the linen had been removed from the bed and piled on the floor in a corner. Very basic, very...Spartan. Shaking his head at the self-imposed hardship, Iolaus made a mental note to bring along his own pillow if he ever had to go to Sparta.

The center room was larger and grandly furnished. Many trunks and boxes were piled about, most of them locked. The curtained bed was unmade; an empty food tray sat on a marble topped table. At least it looked lived in.

At the door to the next room Iolaus paused in amazement. He'd never seen so many clothes in one place, even in the market. Three large trunks were open and spilling their contents onto the floor. Dresses, scarves, shawls in all colors and patterns were strewn about on the bed, the couch, the chairs. Another chest seemed to be filled with nothing but shoes. Iolaus set his candle down in front of the mirror on the dressing table among paint pots and perfume bottles and myriad other items whose uses he could only guess at. One item however had a use he knew, even if it was not the one for which it had been designed. He picked up a long thin hairpin, which he added to his lock-picking arsenal.

What else might be useful? As Iolaus considered the possibilities among the clutter on the dressing table, a glint in the mirror caught his attention. His eyes opened wide in awe at the reflection in the glass. Gold! Pearls! Jewels! The Amyclaean ambassador's wife had more treasure than Zeus! Like the clothing, the jewelry was tumbled half out of its chest onto a table in a tangle of chains, bangles, and ropes of pearls. How did the woman even know what all she had? Iolaus picked up a narrow bracelet, delicately decorated with gold granulation in the Amyclaean style. She'd never miss it, would she? No, and she'd never notice if something was added to the chest either.

"Hide in plain sight!" he said softly, remembering one of the first lessons he'd had from Cratus when he joined the Loax gang. They'd stolen a hen, and hidden it among the birds in his own mother's chicken yard. Even she had not suspected a thing, never noticing one more bird among many.

Iolaus lit another candle from the one he'd been carrying and began to go through the jewelry box.

***

The woman in green was being carried off on the shoulder of the man in black. Suddenly a man in red leapt out and challenged the abductor. They fought long and hard to the sound of furious drumbeats, circling each other and thrusting and parrying with their swords as the woman was caught between them. Finally, a man in Corinthian blue came to the aid of the man in red. Fighting with almost superhuman strength, he turned the tide, and the man in black surrendered his sword with noble grace. The woman leapt and danced with joy until her rescuers carried her off in triumph to a wild flourish of trumpets. After a brief pause, the dancers returned to the floor with a fanfare to take their bows.

"The Deliverance of Amyclae" ballet had been specially commissioned for tonight's festivities, illustrating in dance the history of Amyclae's struggle for independence from Sparta, with Athens and Corinth coming to her rescue. The audience of diplomats abandoned their reserved good manners and applauded enthusiastically, rising to their feet in a standing ovation.

Never before a fan of The Dance, Jason wished there were at least three more acts to the drama. There was still no sign of Iolaus. He could delay only a little more. What sort of encore could possibly follow the dramatic ballet? The Presentation Ceremony would have to proceed soon or people would begin to wonder what was going on. Jason looked around the room as the curtain calls continued. He saw Minister Dormius applauding wildly near the front of the circle of spectators, pointedly ignoring the Athenian chief of staff beside him. The protocol chief seemed completely enthralled as a little girl presented the dancer who had personified Amyclae with a bouquet of flowers.

With another look around the circle, Jason finally found Androcles near the door to the banquet hall. He'd stopped wringing his hands, but he was still sweating. Jason signaled him with a lift of his chin as the applause began to fade. The response was a shrug and a wild-eyed grimace. He was hopeless! With a frown Jason tried again, giving him a more obvious wave of the hand. The young man's expression showed that the light had come on, and he hurried to Jason's side, working his way among the crowd, who were now beginning to resume their seats.

Jason cleared his throat and addressed the assembly. "Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, in honor of this great occasion, I request the musicians to play the anthems of all the fair cities represented so wonderfully, so beautifully, so dramatically in tonight's performance, beginning with our special guests, the Amyclaeans." Jason knew he was bloviating shamelessly, but it would buy just a little more time. If only he could remember the words to all four verses of the Corinthian anthem! With a scuffling of feet and scraping of chair legs, the audience once more rose to their feet at the opening notes of the Amyclaean anthem.

Androcles finally reached Jason's side. "Your Majesty, shall I take the Athenian ambassador to get the Seal?" he asked. Then whispering in the King's ear he added, "I'll take them by the shortcut through the office wing."

"Excellent idea, Androcles, excellent idea," replied the King, putting a hand on Androcles' shoulder. The kid was getting in the game after all! "I know you'll do your best," he added with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty!" With a wink, Androcles bowed and went to meet the Athenian ambassador and his chief of staff who were already waiting with Dormius at the door of the hall.

"Minister Dormius, the King has directed me to take His Excellency to get the Seal." A surprised Dormius glanced over at Jason and saw his affirmative nod. There was nothing else they could do. It was now or never. The Minister acknowledged the King's nod and taking a deep breath turned to the Ambassador. "If you'll go with Androcles, gentlemen, he will escort you to get the Seal."

"This way, Your Excellency," said Androcles as he headed out of the reception hall and across the Great Hall past the grand staircase.

"Wait a minute! Isn't this the way to the Ambassador's quarters?" asked the chief of staff. He pointed to the broad, elegant staircase.

"Oh, no, sir. I know a much better and more discreet way to the Ambassador's quarters. Just follow me!" Androcles spoke quickly as he kept walking. The others could do nothing but traipse along behind him. The Palace offices formed a vast square, and the many long halls did indeed make this a better way to get upstairs tonight. As they turned the first corner, Androcles stopped suddenly and was almost run over by the Ambassador.

"What's wrong?" asked the surprised diplomat, trying to regain his dignified bearing.

"Sorry, sir. I seem to have a stone in my shoe." Androcles bent down and began to undo the laces of his left shoe. "It'll only be a moment, sir!" he assured the Athenian representative, vigorously shaking the shoe. The Athenians exchanged sighs as Androcles struggled back into his footwear and carefully retied the laces. The three men finally resumed their way past ranks of closed doors lining the deserted hallways.

"Almost there now," said Androcles brightly as he led his charges around another corner. He would have to take them up the next stairway or begin the circuit of the office wing again. As they began to climb, he suddenly collapsed, this time nearly knocking the chief of staff down the stairs.

"What now?" cried the man, holding tightly to the banister as the Ambassador reached out a hand to steady him.

"Oh, my ankle! I've twisted my ankle!" moaned Androcles, grabbing his right leg. He sat on the step and twisted his foot about, groaning loudly. "Just let me massage it a little. I'm sure it will be all right in a minute."

"Young man, you are without doubt one of the clumsiest people I have ever had the misfortune to meet," said the Ambassador grimly, crossing his arms as he waited for the injured Androcles to get back on his feet. "How did you ever come to work for Dormius?"

"He's my mother's cousin," replied the young bureaucrat, gingerly trying his footing. "That's all right, then," he said, putting his weight on his left foot. "Shall we go, gentlemen?"

"Are you sure you're all right? I thought it was your right ankle you hurt," said the chief of staff.

"Oh. Yes, yes it was," agreed Androcles. "My left foot is perfectly fine." He hopped up and down to demonstrate before continuing up the stairs toward the Athenian ambassador's suite. He couldn't possibly get away with another delaying tactic. Androcles crossed his fingers. Please, please, all ye gods, let the Seal be back in the chest.

***

Once upon a time Iolaus would have given anything to have a chance alone with the treasure of the Amyclaean ambassador's wife. Now he barely looked at the things he took out of the chest as he searched for the one item he had to have: the Seal of Amyclae. Gold. Gold granulation with a green stone.

A bracelet rolled off across the floor as the pile on the table overflowed. Swearing under his breath, Iolaus ran to retrieve it before it ended up under the bed. He quickly pulled a shawl out of the tumble of garments on the bed and began to pile the jewelry onto it, clearing the table to make room for more. Why was gold granulation so popular in Amyclae? Every handful of bracelets and necklaces, brooches and earrings seemed to be covered with granulation. He reached into the chest again and felt around the bottom. There was only one item left. He pulled it out into the light. It was an earring.

The Seal wasn't there after all. Iolaus swore every oath he knew as he rested his fists on the table and stared at the empty jewelry chest. Or was it empty? He closed the lid and began to run his fingers slowly over the polished wood surface of the box. It was made with elaborate inlays of different fine woods, a work of art in itself. He lifted the lid again and carefully felt the inside. His arm reached almost to the elbow before he touched the bottom of the empty chest, but it felt wrong. His hand should be closer to the level of the tabletop. He pulled his hand out and closed the lid once again, then turned the chest over on its back.

The bottom of the chest was as finely worked as the other sides. Once again he ran his fingertips over the surface, looking for an irregularity that would indicate the opening of a hidden compartment. There! Just at the corner where the bottom and the back met was a slight edge. Iolaus pushed against the light colored piece of wood and it slid out neatly between the adjoining inlaid pieces of the pattern. There was a false bottom! But the secret space was small, too small for the Seal. There was something hidden there, though.

By the candlelight, Iolaus was surprised to see a coral necklace; a cheap trinket such as a farmer's wife would buy to protect her baby from the evil eye. He'd worn one himself until he was about ten, much good that it did. Maybe his mother could still get her money back. Why had the wife of the Amyclaean ambassador hidden such a worthless object so carefully? And where was the accursed Seal?

His speculations were cut short by a sudden noise behind him. Iolaus quickly pinched out the candles and stood stock still in the darkness. Someone rattled the door to the suite, then silence. Iolaus slowly let out his breath. It was the guard making his rounds again. He could hear the faint rattle of the Athenian's door across the hall as he quickly re-lit one candle and put the coral back in its hiding place. He slid the cover into place and righted the chest, dumping the gold and jewels back in by the handful. He had to get out before the guard came around again.

As he picked up the shawl to add its load to the cache, a wide golden bracelet fell and rolled away across the smooth wooden floor. As Iolaus ran to retrieve it, his foot kicked against it, rolling it even further out of his reach. The cursed thing rolled right out the door into the alcove between the bedchambers. With his candle in one hand, Iolaus scrambled to find the bracelet. It had fetched up against the doorframe of the other small bedroom. As he bent to pick it up, his eye was caught by a glimpse of color against the dark wood of the floor, just under the stripped bed. Taking the bracelet in his teeth, Iolaus picked up another red rose petal, bruised and wilted.

By Artemis! The Seal was here somewhere! Iolaus swung the bracelet from one finger as he quickly reconsidered the room. The thief had not had much time to hide the Seal; he must have stashed it quickly some place he could easily find it later. Some place no one else was likely to disturb. He ripped open the straps on the traveling bag and dumped its contents on the bed. There was only a change of linen and a razor. As he stuffed the things back in the bag, Iolaus' eye fell on the pile of bedding in the corner. In the midst of the neat pile of pillows and precisely folded blankets there was a linen sheet rolled up into a messy ball. He unwrapped the bundle and shook the sheet over the bed. The Seal of Amyclae rolled out onto the mattress. With a cry of triumph, the hunter grasped his quarry and jammed it inside his vest. Thanks be to Artemis!

There was no time to waste now. Iolaus quickly restacked the pile of bedding and returned the runaway bracelet to the chest in the other room. He set his candle on the desk where he'd found it and pinched out the flame, then tiptoed to the hall door. There was no sound on the other side. Slowly he eased back the lock bolt. Still no sound. He pulled out the pen knife and opened the narrow blade. Putting out a hand he grasped the door handle and opened the door just a crack. No sound. It was now or never. 8/8 Taking a deep breath, he slipped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

He crossed to the Athenian quarters and inserted the tip of the pen knife blade into the door lock. A twist of the wrist and he felt the mechanism turn. Piece of cake! One more twist the other way and a turn of the door handle and he was in. He leaned back against the inside of the door and heaved a sigh of relief. Not record time, but not bad for being so out of practice. Now where was the casket for the Seal?

Iolaus found it on the desk in the Ambassador's private study. It was small enough for one man to carry, with a peaked top and handles on each side. His candle played across the surface which was inset with polished green stones and, of course, decorated with granulated gold. The lock on the chest was an old one, but looked as if it were clean and well oiled. He took out the hairpin and bent the tip slightly against the marble top of the table. The pin slid easily into the lock. So far so good. Iolaus gently twisted and probed, getting the feel of the lock, then slowly turned the tiny hook he'd made until he felt a slight resistance. Lifting the end of the pin, he felt the other end engage the latch. He pulled the pin toward him and finally heard a satisfying click as the lock disengaged. Not sure whether to laugh or to cry, he lifted the lid of the casket with shaky hands.

Voices! Iolaus couldn't make out the words, but he recognized one voice. It was Androcles out in the hall. He must be practically shouting to be heard through the embassy door. Iolaus quickly pulled the Seal of Amyclae from his vest and crammed it into the black velvet bag, pulling tight the drawstring closure. He placed the bag in the casket and closed the lid. A twist of his pin, and the casket lock clicked closed. The voices were right outside the door now. Iolaus rushed to push shut the door to the study just as the hall door opened. The newcomers apparently didn't notice anything unusual. Their conversation continued.

"Thank you, Ambassador, my ankle is much better." That was Androcles. "May I help you with the casket, sir?"

"No, no. I'll take it myself, thank you, just to be on the safe side, you understand." That must be the ambassador. "Let me just get the script for my speech of presentation. Now what did I do with it?" he asked. There was a rustle of parchments as the Ambassador searched for his speech.

Iolaus looked around desperately for an escape. Out the window the stone-paved courtyard looked very far down. The desk and carved wooden chairs in the study offered no concealment. The walls were bare except for lots of carving, just like Jason's study. Like Jason's study! Iolaus quickly examined the paneled walls and in the corner behind the desk found the ugly, friendly, beautiful face of Morbius the woodcarver. He pushed on the small head and thanked Zeus, Artemis, Aphrodite, and even Ares when a narrow door swung open on silent hinges.

***

Jason was well into the third verse of the Corinthian anthem when he saw Androcles and the Athenians come back into the reception hall. The Ambassador had the Amyclaean casket clutched to his chest, but he was not shouting for Jason's head. That was a good sign. By the time the fourth verse was drawing to a close, Dormius had joined the Ambassador's party at the back of the hall and was getting everybody into position for the procession. Jason could see him exchange a look with Androcles and Androcles's shake of his head. Was the Seal in the casket or not? Only Iolaus and the gods knew, and none of them were telling.

As the music rang to a close, Dormius caught Jason's attention and raised a questioning eyebrow. He would have to give the signal for the Presentation Ceremony to begin. Jason nodded. Dormius marshaled the Ambassadors from Amyclae and Sparta to Jason's side, then cued the musicians to play the Corinthian Grand March. The Athenian ambassador came forward carrying the gold casket, followed by his chief of staff with the Treaty of Independence written on a large sheet of parchment.

The Ambassador stopped before Jason and began his speech, lavish with praise for King Aeson and Corinth's role in the liberation of Amyclae. Jason tried to focus on the words, but his thoughts kept returning to the Seal. If only he could see through the casket's golden side! He raked his eyes around the room, but there was no sign of Iolaus anywhere.

"And, so, I hereby present the key to the Seal of Amyclae to you, Jason, King of Corinth." His own name snapped Jason's attention back to the ceremony. With a flourish the Ambassador presented him with an elaborately decorated golden key on a green ribbon. Jason's hands were ice-cold as he inserted the key into the lock on the casket. This was it. Maybe the key would jam! No, it turned easily. The musicians played a fanfare. Jason took a deep breath and raised the lid of the chest.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in memory of my father King Aeson, and on behalf of friends of Amyclae everywhere, I present to Ambassador Proclivius the Royal Seal of Amyclae!" Jason grasped the black velvet bag and raised it high for all to see. The gathered diplomats and dignitaries applauded as with shaking hands he pulled open the drawstrings and held the bag out toward the Amyclaean ambassador.

Proclivius pulled the Seal from the bag and held it up in turn for everyone to see as the Athenian chief of staff poured molten wax on the bottom of the Treaty of Independence. Proclivius pressed the Seal firmly into the red wax, making the mark of Amyclae for the first time in over fifty years. There were tears in his eyes as he turned and grasped Jason's extended arm.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, thank you!" The Ambassador's voice was barely audible over the continuing applause. Jason acknowledged the thanks with a smile and a nod, resting his left hand on the other man's shoulder. Proclivius turned and embraced Aegina, who stood at his side openly weeping. Her arms went around her husband's neck in a tight embrace. As the musicians played the Amyclaean anthem once again, the rest of the delegation came up in turn to congratulate the Ambassador. The other ambassadors crowded around to add their good wishes. The only one who didn't join the throng was the Ambassador's secretary. Sciron had disappeared.

***

Through the spy hole in the door Iolaus could see a lone figure pacing up and down in the kitchen court. Remembering Jason's warning for secrecy, he forced himself to wait to open the hidden entrance. His candle was almost gone and the passageway was claustrophobic. He'd already waited a while at the top end of the passage to make sure he wouldn't be heard. Then his way through the unfamiliar passageway had seemed to take forever. After a minute, he looked out again. The figure was still there. For a breath of fresh air he was willing to take the risk. Iolaus found the latch of the door with his free hand, then blew out the candle. He slowly pulled the door inward just a crack, then peered through the spy hole. When the figure turned in its pacing he quickly slipped outside and pulled the door closed behind him. Closing his eyes in relief, he took in a deep breath of cool night air.

"Iolaus?" He opened his eyes in surprise at hearing his own name. "Oh, I was so afraid you'd given up on me and left already!" It was Corina! She was the one who'd been pacing the courtyard.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she went on as he came up to her. "For some reason they wouldn't let us leave after the banquet was over. I just got away a few minutes ago."

"Is everything all right?" asked Iolaus eagerly. "Come on, let's go see!" He grabbed Corina's hand and ran toward the kitchen door to the Palace.

"Wait!" Corina ran to keep up with the fleet-footed Iolaus. "There's nothing to see. The ceremony is over!" Her blue shawl trailed behind her as they hurried across the courtyard.

"It is? It's over? That's great!" cried Iolaus with a laugh as they entered the Palace. The big kitchen was nearly empty now as they made their way toward the butler's pantry. Suddenly a black-clad man ran through the pantry and right into Iolaus and Corina. The three of them went down in a heap in the narrow aisle between two butcher's tables.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" cried Iolaus as he scrambled to his feet.

"Are you all right?" He reached out a hand to pull Corina up.

She nodded in reply. "I think so," she said, picking up the shawl that had finally slipped off her shoulder.

The other man had hit his head on a table leg and was awkwardly trying to rise to his feet. Iolaus grabbed his arm to help him up. One of the row of small buckles fastening his black leather sleeve was torn off! Iolaus raised a startled gaze to the man's face. He saw a look of terror in his eyes.

"Leaving so soon, Sciron?" Two men dressed in black from head to toe had come into the kitchen. Pushing Iolaus aside, they hauled Sciron unceremoniously to his feet.

"You wouldn't want to miss the party back in Sparta now, would you?" said the larger of the two. He seized Sciron's right hand with his own. Iolaus saw two identical rings carved with black eagles. The Spartan secret police! Iolaus stepped back as the Spartan agents dragged the struggling Sciron past him out into the night. Almost all his questions were answered now.

"Come on!" he cried, heading once again for the stairs to the musician's gallery. Corina was right behind him as he leaped up the steps two at a time. From the rail Iolaus could see Jason in the midst of a knot of ambassadors. Androcles flashed him a smile from his position with two large and well-armed guards behind a table displaying the Seal of Amyclae with its jeweled casket and velvet bag. The Amyclaean ambassador and his glamorous young wife stood arm in arm next to the table, accepting congratulations.

When Jason looked up, he saw Iolaus leaning his elbows on the balcony rail. As their eyes met, he had only enough time to salute with a thumbs-up before another diplomat claimed his attention. He owed a debt that he could never adequately repay. He'd still be King of Corinth tomorrow, thanks to a friend who'd been willing to risk everything in one desperate try.

Up on the balcony, Iolaus returned the salute as the King of Corinth turned back to his official guests. What a life his friend had now, so many responsibilities, his life and his kingdom at risk every day. Iolaus would stick with hunting, fighting, flirting, and eating! As he watched waiters pass among Jason's guests with trays of food and wine, the King's special agent suddenly realized he was starving.

He turned to Corina, who was leaning on the rail next to him. "Let's get out of here," he said. "It's pretty late, but would you like to go to Kora's for something to eat?"

She looked at him with a grin. "I'm starved," she said. "Let's go!"

THE END

This tale was originally posted at Raven's Realm. Thanks, Raven, for the encouragement and the inspiration of your stories, back in the days before I knew an html tag from just so much punctuation.  

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