Ania's Turn
By Sandman

It was love at first sight, for me at least.

I remember the day I first saw him, so golden and strong, his curls lifting on the breeze as he whistled a happy song. He strolled into town, a sword at his hip and a bow and arrow in a quiver at his back. He was dusty, as if he'd been on the road for quite some time, but he still had a spring in his step, and the easy athletic way he moved led me to believe he was used to traveling on foot for long distances.

I didn't remember seeing him before, but I rarely get into town, although other people seemed to recognize him easily. He waved to them, stopping to talk to some, clap others on the back, as he proceeded directly into the marketplace, and I watched in fascination as this strange and handsome traveler entered our village.

He seemed so unlike the other men here. He didn't have the grime of manure on his hands, not that it's bad mind you, just familiar. He had a carefree attitude that shone like his blonde hair in the afternoon sun, yet carried himself like a warrior. I was intrigued, and smitten with this man who came in humility, yet shone with an aura of strength and kindness.

I, however, was nothing more than an only daughter, born into a family who wished I was a son, who could work the fields or earn a living so I could help support them. But I'm not good with my hands and have no dexterity with either needle or plow. Mother says I'm awkward. Father mutters that I'm lazy, but I'm neither. It just takes me more time to learn than either of them wants to spare.

This day I was at the market for my parents, trying to sell some fresh herbs from our garden and the feta cheese my brothers made from our goats' milk. But I wasn't very good at this either. Not that they expected me to be, though. I think they sent me to get rid of me actually.

So there I was trying to sell our merchandise and not even doing that well, as the new traveler strolled into the marketplace with his self assured swagger. Before he came along I had been watching people pausing at the different booths and taking their time, letting the warmth of the sun set a languid pace for their haggling. I let my mind wander, along with my eyes and I hadn't sold anything, even though the cheese looked good and the herbs were bundled with care. But a couple who'd already bought from a few others approached with an interested eye.

They paused before my booth, not bothering to even look at me while the wife pinched a leaf off a bunch of basil to smell it, feel the freshness. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the husband take a small taste of the cheese. Father said I shouldn't let the customers sample, as the produce would be soon gone, and there would be less to sell, but I was distracted. The nice looking traveler was heading in my direction.

I could have sworn that he was looking right at me, with a small grin creasing his face as the weathered lines that framed the outer edges of his blue eyes crinkled deeper. His stride lengthened. He was coming to my booth!

Gazing at the traveler, I hardly heard the man across from me trying to offer too low a price for the cheese, and the woman complaining that the basil bundle was too small for the dinars. I'm not good at haggling and probably would have let them have it for whatever they wanted but the traveler stepped up.

The couple grew quiet as he looked over at them, then back to me.

"I'd like some cheese," he said, looking at me with a smile and those impossibly blue eyes, and I wanted to faint. He exuded confidence, his voice was warm and inviting, and his small soft smile sent my heart fluttering.

He was talking to me! This was the kind of man every single girl in town, and probably some of the married ones as well, fantasized about, whether they admitted it or not. He was talking to me!

"How much is the cheese?" He asked, and I felt my face began to heat with a blush of red as his eyes met mine, holding them in his azure gaze.

"Five dinars for the large, three for the smaller," I answered at first not even daring to look at him, yet wanting desperately to stare.

"That's a great price," he answered with a smile in his voice. I heard the couple beside him murmur and watched as he turned his face to them.

"That's a five dinar piece you're eating," he pointed out to the husband, who paled as he realized that he'd been caught, and then thrust the money at me. The wife sniffed as she placed the basil in her basket and tossed a couple extra coins at me as they turned away, leaving me alone with my newfound negotiator.

"You can't let people take advantage of you," he advised. "They see a pretty girl like you standing here looking innocent and they'll walk away with your goods." He passed me five dinars himself, grabbed a hunk of feta and bit right into it.

"Not bad at all, but it would go better with bread," he commented.

I truly didn't know what to say. I had no bread to offer him, and in truth if I did, I would have been too tongue tied to even tell him. I just stared stupidly at him, and then started giggling. I don't even know why. I guess I was just nervous.

The traveler seemed to like my response, as his own face lit up at the sound of my laughter and he leaned in closer to me, laughing as well. I could smell his sweat and the dust of the trail on him, could feel an attraction that made me want to get closer, but I didn't. After all I was just a simple farm girl. I had nothing to offer him. And he'd soon be on his way.

I felt my throat tighten as my insecurities rose and I suddenly realized that I would never be the kind of woman that someone handsome and kind and clever would want. So instead of reaching out to him or trying to have a conversation I turned away. I didn't want him to see my eyes growing wet as I blinked away my tears, evidence of the pain that I tried to keep deep inside, but that he'd unknowingly pulled to the surface.

"Hey?" I heard the question that he didn't even speak and felt his hand reach over to my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

I breathed deeply and rubbed my eyes ferociously to stop them from dripping. I couldn't look at him, at his kindness and concern. I knew his face would melt my heart and then I would be left totally empty when he found out what I was really like. So I answered without turning back.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

The hand tightened. "What's your name?" His voice was soft.

"Ania," I answered, my back still toward him.

"And I'm Iolaus of Thebes," he answered. He paused briefly, but I didn't answer, couldn't answer. Iolaus of Thebes! I had heard of him, but had never been in town when he'd passed through!

"Well Ania, thanks for the cheese." The hand left my shoulder. "Maybe we'll meet again. And maybe next time I'll bring some bread."

I nodded wordlessly, finding the courage finally to face him. I tried to smile; it wouldn't do to turn a way a future customer. And though I felt small and beneath him, I couldn't remain silent, no other girl would.

"I hope so," I answered and wondered if he knew how much I meant what I said.

I saw a light flicker across his face and I glanced upward briefly to see whether the sun had passed through a cloud, coming out the other side.

He raised a hand, taking a bite out of the hunk of cheese.

"Ania," he called as he turned to leave. "I'll see you again, bet on that."

And then he was gone.

**

The walk home seemed longer than ever. I knew my parents would be angry when they saw that I returned with a little less than half the cheese when I should have sold it all. Another girl would have, and would have brought more money as well. I could hear their disappointed voices in my mind and felt even more miserable about myself than I had before.

What could I do? I surely couldn't sew, or cook or tend a farm. And I couldn't haggle successfully. What kind of wife would I ever make? One whose husband was hungry, tired and poorly dressed, I guessed. My parents reminded me endlessly of how other girls my age were married, some even with families already, what great dowries they had gotten for their families, but I, the ugly and untalented duckling, had had only one man interested.

Even now I shuddered to think about the whole incident. When old Flatus showed up at our door, I had the feeling he wasn't there for socializing. He had my father go walking with him and when they returned they shook hands and Flatus left whistling, a new skip to his step. My father was silent as he took my arm and led me, tightlipped, into the kitchen of our small home.

"Ania," he spoke gravely. "Flatus has offered me a price for you. Probably about as good a one as I'll ever get."

I'll never forget how the words hit me; my father's solemnity and silent stare made me think that the deal had already been sealed. My heart pounded and my mouth was dry. I reached up to my heart with one hand and covered my mouth with the other so I wouldn't cry out. Not Flatus! He was nothing but a bag of wind, and an old one at that. He walked around town crowing about his wives, all three who had died in rapid succession, leaving him with one small child each, none of whom he could handle. He was dirty, his children were dirty and he was OLD!

"Father!" I gasped. My voice became tremulous as I saw the resignation in his eyes. "You can't!"

My father stared at my horrified eyes, unblinking. "And why not Ania? You're certainly old enough to be married. You're not much good around the house, and no one else seems interested."

His eyes never left mine, and I noticed for the first time what a cold shade of steely gray they were, how hard and sinewy my father had become as he'd aged. His face was tightly lined and weathered and all softness that was ever there had been eroded by time and the elements. Even his smile lacked warmth.

"You eat our food, drink our wine but offer us nothing in return. This is a money making proposition,"

"Father!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "I offer you love, unconditionally, as you obviously don't have for me." I turned my back on him and tried to catch my breath, to still the pounding of my heart and the rush I heard in my head.

Not Flatus!" I whimpered. "Surely I'll die like his other wives! He doesn't even care for anyone but himself. He's nothing but a bag of wind."

"Now Ania," my father warned.

I heard the quiet footsteps of my mother as she entered the kitchen and felt the light touch of her reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Ania," she spoke softly. "What else are we to do?"

I could hear the pain in her voice, but she knew the lot of women. She herself had been relatively lucky. My father never abused her to my knowledge and had provided adequately for the family she had given him, though I wasn't sure that she had loved him at first or perhaps ever. Still, not all women were so fortunate.

I whirled to her. "Mother I can't!" I wept. "He's old, and mean. He even kicks his dog!"

"Shhh, Ania." She wrapped an arm around me. "Your father is trying to do what's best."

"Best?" I cried. "For whom? Surely not me. Am I nothing more than a few chickens, hogs and maybe even a cow?"

"Now Ania," my father warned. I could hear the clumsy footsteps of my brothers as they tromped in to find out what all the noise was about. They stood in a dirty little semicircle behind my father, like a small army.

"No!" I yelled, shaking in fear and anger. "I'll leave now if you want!" I couldn't believe that my father had sold me out so quickly, like some unwanted piece of clothing that no longer fit its owner.

"I'll find my own way in the world if I must!" I stomped my foot on the packed hard dirt of the floor.

"Ania," my mother spoke soothingly. "Let me talk with your father."

I saw her catch my father's steely eye and watched her nod her head to direct him to the other room. I felt the warmth of her arm slip away from my shoulder as she leaned to my father, taking his hand, and left me alone with the semicircle of laughing brothers, who themselves were not yet wed.

I dropped into a chair and let my face fall into my hands. I could hear the whispering in the next room, the snickers of my brothers and the scuffle of their steps as they left, deeming my fate not interesting enough to even see the end of. And then I was alone.

Time moved so slowly. In my mind I could see nothing other than the wrinkled face of Flatus, leering with gap toothed mouth and the foot that viciously kicked the small cur that his children loved like the mother they didn't have. I could smell the rancid odor of his filthy sweat, mingled with the hog manure he spread upon his poorly tended garden, yet another chore for the prospective wife.

And in my mind I felt his touch, cold and rough, caring only for his own needs. I felt the smack of his hand against my face when he found out that I could neither cook nor sew, that plants wilted at my touch and even his children's cur couldn't stand my presence. Worst, I could feel the frigid touch of his body on mine, taking without giving and the ice of his lips so dry and wrinkled against mine.

And I cried. In a house full of brothers yet feeling alone in the kitchen, head in my hands, I berated the gods for making me such a useless woman that my own family would sell me like I was a market item, and not even for a good price, I was willing to wager.

I would rather be dead, I thought than to be married to Flatus. But how to do it? I didn't have the courage to use a hunting knife and didn't know whether I'd be able to swallow enough of the foul poison berries that grew at the edge of the woods.
Once, when I was younger, my brothers had convinced me to eat a handful and they tasted so foul I spilled the contents of my stomach almost right away, clutching the trunk of a tree to keep from falling into my own waste. I couldn't hold it down then, and I doubted I'd be able to do it now.

Run away?

My thoughts were broken by my mother's hand once again on my shoulder.

"Ania," she spoke with quiet firmness. "We will tell Flatus that you cannot go yet, that you are still needed here."

"But," my father growled, "If I get no other offers within a reasonable time I will be forced to talk to Flatus once again."

I reached for my mother's hand, clasping it firmly and tipped my face up to my father's.

"Thank you," I said, when I really wanted to curse at him, to hit him and cry and run from the room. For my status had been declared to all that day, and my father had found me lacking, as usual.

And so I had been spared the fate of being wed to Flatus, who soon would marry another young woman, if not me. Being married to the old fart was suicide in itself. He'd found a new bride, a spinster even now pregnant, and probably would soon die in child birth or at his hands.

The basket felt heavy in my arms and I wished I'd been able to sell more of the cheese and herbs. I could hear the mocking laughter of my brothers, the scorn in my father's voice when I returned home with the basket still half full. My mother would silently commiserate and I would have to return to the market the next day to sell the rest and more.

And the threat of Flatus would hang over my worthless head as I waited to see if his wife would survive childbirth. I would pray to Aphrodite every day that love would bloom between the two of them, and that she would live, giving my father one less lever against me.

**

As I expected, the very next day I was required to take another trip into town to sell the remaining produce and more even. The morning had been cool, with dew still on the grass and the sun just peeking its face over the horizon, when I started out. I ambled along, thinking of the handsome Iolaus and hoping he'd again show up at the market today. I'd packed two hunks of bread to share if he came to buy more cheese. I whiled away the hour's walk thinking about what I'd say if I saw him.

This day I wasn't as slow to set out my wares, and I looked around as the townsfolk came wandering into the square. I smiled when people neared, as my father had told me to do, and nodded my head to those I recognized. I felt the heat of the sun on my shoulders, and found myself a bit warm under the woven dress my mother had made for me, and the cloak she insisted I wear today. So I slipped off the cloak, and noticing how the cheese and herbs contrasted nicely with it, I laid out the cloth and placed my wares on it.

It wasn't long until I had a customer, then another. The sun rose higher in the sky and the town came alive with both vendors and customers. The air was crackling with the calls of people hawking their goods, metal pans, fresh produce, and eggs. Hens squawked as they were examined for plumpness, or in the case of layers for overall health, although I had no idea how one determined that. Goodness, it wasn't as if the hen would stick out its tongue and say "AHH."

So it was that I was taken by surprise when Iolaus appeared at my stall, grin on his face and three dinars in his hand.

"I'll take the smaller piece today," he said, and I whirled around, red-faced that I hadn't even heard his approach.

Suddenly every clever thing I had thought to say flew away like a chicken about to be slaughtered. My hand went to my mouth without my even thinking about it and I could feel my eyes growing rounder.

"Iolaus!" I breathed the name out with obvious surprise as I stared into his twinkling eyes.

Today he looked even better than yesterday. No more dusty clothes, no more sweat slicked skin or muddy boots. His hair, no longer damp ringlets from the arduous trek, was freshly washed and shone as golden as the mid day sun overhead.

He leaned toward me and I could smell the heady scent of sandalwood on him. His skin, though weathered, looked soft, and as he reached for a small piece of the feta I noticed that his hands were calloused. My father said that this was the mark of a man. His shirt front fell open a bit as he leaned, and I couldn't help but sneak a peek at his chest, so firmly muscled. Now I was sweating.

"Take what ever piece you want," I finally said.

He laughed. "A three dinar piece will be fine."

He reached for a small chunk and I pushed a larger one to him.

"Repeat customers get special treatment," I responded, allowing myself a small smile.

"No no," I won't eat your profit," he answered as he dropped the three dinars into my hand. It seemed to me that his fingers brushed my palm, and my hand tingled at the touch.

"Please," I answered as firmly as I could muster. I dropped my head and murmured, "And I brought some bread for you too."

"Ania!" I heard the pleasant surprise ringing in his voice. "Thank you."

I looked up finally and saw that he was smiling gently my way, as if he could somehow ease my discomfort with just a look.

I nodded and clumsily fumbled with my tote sack, feeling about in it for the lump of bread. I pulled it out, wrapped in a linen napkin and handed it to him, then passed him a five dinar chunk of feta.

"Will you get in trouble?" he questioned, his head cocked and concern etched into those impossibly blue eyes.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm always in trouble with my parents for something or other."

"I remember those days," he responded, then took my bread, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary against mine. "May I sit with you and eat?"

"I'd be honored," I answered politely as my mother had taught me. Inside I was quaking, afraid to look up at him.

How could this be? My dreams never came true. I was a simple country girl, with no skills, no self confidence, nothing I could see that would encourage a sought after man to pay attention to me. Yet here was Iolaus of Thebes, come back a second day for more than the feta. There had to be a catch.

But he moved behind the stall with me and sat on a rock as if it was perfectly natural for him and took a huge bite out of the bread and feta.

"Come on Ania," he patted the rock beside himself.

I looked around to see if any customers were close or interested, but everyone seemed to be milling aimlessly around at this time, so I sat next to him, but not too close, and tried to keep my eyes on the cheese.

"So Ania," he said through a mouthful of lunch, "I've passed through here quite a few times but never saw you."

I blushed and turned my face further away. "Oh, mostly I stay at home. Sometimes, especially during harvest or when my brothers are busy hunting or plowing, I have to come to town to sell the wares."

He grunted and tore into the bread again.

"But I'm not a very good sales person," I admitted.

"Well, they're missing the boat," he asserted. "They could come around just to take a peek at a pretty girl."

Pretty girl! My breath caught with in my chest. No one had ever called me pretty except my mother. My brothers had always laughed at my awkwardness, teased me about my shyness and laughed that no man would want a wife who couldn't cook or sew or work the fields.

"Iolaus!" I said in uncertainty and surprise.

"What?" He answered. "It's true. You are a very beautiful woman. And kind. I mean, you gave me a five dinar chunk of cheese and brought some bread to go with it. You didn't snap at the rude guy who over sampled your wares yesterday and you let his wife take a huge chunk of basil at a low price."

"I'm just a lousy sales girl," I answered, letting my gaze fall to the dirt at my feet.

"Anya," he spoke with pain in his voice. "There's nothing lousy about you. You're kind and thoughtful." I felt his hand reach for my face, his fingers on my chin as he turned my face to his.

I looked up at him, feeling small and unworthy, but wanting to scoot closer to him, to somehow let myself feel for only this once that someone really liked ME for what I was and didn't hold me in contempt for who I should be.

"Iolaus," I whispered. "You don't know me."

"But I'd like to," he answered softly, letting the bread and cheese fall to his lap as he reached for my hand.

I could see his sincerity and it stunned me like a doe as the arrow struck her heart true. My stomach flipped and I tried to concentrate on his fingers against my chin and cheek, so warm. I wanted this moment to last forever. Never before had a man treated me with such kindness.

"Young lady!" a voice called. I jumped up, turning to the customer at hand. "If you could tear yourself away for a moment."

So I left Iolaus sitting there, eating a piece of bread with cheese, and helped the older gentleman and his wife to sample the wares. And the customers kept coming as Iolaus ate. My father would expect that I would return without the produce and with a bundle of money instead, so I kept at my work, never noticing when he left until I turned when the sun was low in the sky and my cloak lay bare, and he was gone.

**

Three days passed and my parents never asked me to go to market. I worried that Iolaus had continued on his journey and that I would never see him again. Though I wasn't a great sales woman, and they usually didn't go to market but twice a month, I begged my parents to send me back to town. I needed to see if he was still there.

Each night I dreamed about the handsome Iolaus, who saw me as beautiful, who could make me feel as if I could do anything. I had, after all sold all that I'd brought with me the second day at market, after he'd buoyed me. When Iolaus sat next to me I wasn't "just Ania" as I was at home. I had never felt that good before, and craved the chance to feel it once again.

So when my parents finally asked one of my brothers to take the wares to town I begged them and cried and told them that since I was no good at home I should at least be given market duties, that way I wouldn't be underfoot at home and my brother could work the field. And for once my parents agreed.

So I set out at dawn on a warm spring morning and listened to the sounds of the birds awakening and calling for mates, the chirp of the crickets fading and the buzz of an early cicada. I dashed down the dirt road, barely noticing that the dew clung to the grass like diamonds while on the high trees the new budded leaves whispered like old women gossiping as I passed. My feet flew as I headed into town, each step bringing me closer to Iolaus.

But what if he wasn't there? He was a traveling man, and if Hercules needed him he'd be gone. And I would wait all day, hoping but not seeing him. Perhaps I was living in a dream world, one where Iolaus would sweep me off my feet and all the girls for towns around would finally envy me, and I would be happy for the rest of my life. My step quickened until I was running, laden with wares, and my cloak flew out behind me flapping like the wings of small dull sparrow.

The town square was still quiet when I arrived, picking a prime spot, not too close to the entrance from the road, but a few stalls up, where people would be more inclined to part with their dinars, and there I placed my cloak. I carefully placed the cheese and now some fresh spring peas and green onion stalks, arranging them so that they caught the eye.

Business started slowly, but by the time the sun had ascended to somewhat shy of mid-day, I had begun to see more of my produce being sold, and more quickly. I greeted the customers with a smile, reserved a piece of feta for sampling and chatted with the ladies.

I was doing a good business when one of the older women sidled up. I knew her as a busybody and when she tried to sneak a pea pod I shot her a look like my father gave me when I reached for the last piece of bread.

"So Ania," she sneered. "Did you hear the news?"

I raised an eyebrow, but tried not to look too interested. I might be single, but I didn't want to throw my lot in with the biddies.

"Old Flatus' wife died this morning after having given birth to a baby boy."

NO! I couldn't speak, couldn't give her the pleasure of seeing what I truly felt, my despair and fear.

"Really?" I finally managed to speak.

"Yep," she answered watching me closely. "Guess he wouldn't pay a midwife and she bled to death." She leered across at me, her eyes taking on a carnivore's sparkle. "Word has it he's already been to see your father." She cackled and stared across at me waiting to see how I'd respond.

"Would you like to buy some cheese?" was the only thing I could think to say at that moment. My mind was numb and my heart was beating out of my chest.

"Nope. Just thought you might want to know, so you'd be ready when you got home." She cackled once again and I thought that if she was a hen I'd have no trouble lopping off her head. I stared after her substantial backside as she hobbled off leaning heavily on her knobby cane to the next stall.

If I could have crumbled into the dirt at my feet I surely would have, but there were customers approaching and if I was to have any leverage with my father I would have to make sure to sell everything today. So I turned to the approaching customers with a vacant smile and offered them a sample.

The sun was almost down when Iolaus came to my booth. I was shaking out my cloak and thanking the gods that I had somehow managed to sell all my father's wares when I felt a small hand on my shoulder.

"Hi Ania," he said.

His voice was happy and he kept his hand on my shoulder as I turned to face him.

I couldn't hide my despair. As I stared into the handsome face, the azure eyes, I lost the battle to push back all that I was feeling. The tears slipped down my cheeks and I hung my head.

"Ania!" he spoke softly, but I could hear the concern in his voice. "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier."

"It's not you," I choked out.

Both hands were on my shoulders now. I felt him pulling me close, his arms slipping from my shoulders around my back and nestling my face against his shoulder. I could feel the beating of his heart against mine, the warmth of his body and wished that this was the way it would be forever. But it wouldn't. When I went home, I would be betroved to Flatus.

"Ania, what's the matter?" He stroked my hair and I could feel his breath across my head. His arms were strong, yet never squeezed me.

I didn't know how to answer him. He had no idea what had transpired over the last year, what my life was like. He knew me only as Ania, seller of feta cheese and miscellaneous produce. And yet, I realized, he accepted me just as I was. I wasn't a princess, or a goddess or even a family member. I was no one. Simply Ania, yet here he was holding me and trying to help me.

And so I told him very simply of what had transpired today, and how I had escaped the same fate a little more than a year ago. I wept as I told him how little regard the men in my family had for me, and how I felt as if I was being simply tossed like garbage to the hog.

Iolaus said nothing as I cried on his shoulder, but he kept stroking my back very comfortingly as I poured out my story. I heard a sharp intake of breath as I finished.

"That's not true, Ania." He blurted out. "You are a very beautiful girl. And look how quickly you learned to sell! Maybe you simply need the right teacher."

"Very kind," I managed to choke out, and indeed it was, for though my mother had tried desperately to teach me the fine art of cooking, and sewing for that matter, I simply couldn't grasp the little nuances that perfected the craft.

Iolaus released his hold on me and stepped back, carefully keeping his hands on my shoulders. "It's getting dark," he said matter of factly. "I'll walk you home."

"No no," I protested. "You needn't do that I'll be fine."

"Hush," he commanded.

And I, used to taking orders from men, obeyed and stood mutely staring across at him.

"He realized his error right away. "No Ania, it's okay to talk to me, just let me walk you home. I have a plan."

"A plan?" I couldn't hide my excitement. Goddess' knew I would grasp any straw offered to me at this point.

"Yeah," he grinned at me. "I was out hunting, that's why I came here so late. Got a wild boar too."

I could see he was proud, and truly I was impressed. Not many men hunted wild boar alone. I remembered that my brothers had set off as a trio and two came back badly gored, without the boar too. Yet Iolaus was hardly dirty, let alone injured. And he'd carried the boar home too. So the legends were true, that he was Hercules's mortal equal, only not as strong. But every bit as courageous and clever and capable as the demigod. Suddenly I felt even smaller and less worthy of his attention.

"We should have time to go back to the Inn where I'm staying and get the Innkeeper to give us a chunk of the meat to bring to your family. He'll still have plenty to pay off my room and food and make stews for his other guests."

I reached up to rub my eyes dry with the back of my hand and felt him push my hand away, dry the tears with his fingers.

"Ania," he breathed softly. "I'm coming home with you tonight. Maybe your parents will think twice about marrying you off so quickly if they see you have another interested person."

"Iolaus!" I grabbed him in a hug so spontaneous that I forgot to hide how I truly felt. And he could tell. He felt something for me too, I was sure of it! I could feel his heart beat faster as I pressed tightly against him, and he laid his cheek against my hair breathing softly and quickly in to it. His arms pulled me tighter.

"Ania," he said into my hair so quietly I wondered if I dreamed it.

Suddenly I realized we were still standing in the middle of the town square with vendors taking down their booths and a few stragglers milling about. No decent young woman would be seen like this with a traveler. I pulled away, even though my heart wanted to nestle deeper into his.

"Thank you," I smiled up at him with hope in my face. He grabbed my hand.

"Let's get to the inn and then get on the road before it gets too dark."

**

I barely spoke that night over supper. After their initial surprise at my coming home with a man, and a young handsome one at that, my parents set an extra place at the table. My mother was enchanted by Iolaus's profuse praise of her cooking and the respect he showed her, unlike many male guests. My brothers wanted to know about his adventures with Hercules, and Iolaus kept them on the edge of their seats with stories about monsters, and wars and the actions of the Gods and Goddesses told with such animation that we felt a part of them.

My father sat with his face puckered in sour disregard. I could hear his thoughts of disdain that he may have to put his plans on hold to marry me off to old Flatus, to see if he could get more for me after Iolaus had showed an interest. After all, Iolaus was a traveler, not a man looking for a wife, but when the other unmarried young men in the village caught wind that he'd come home with me, it just might spur some suitors with more dinars than Flatus. But my father wanted a new plow now, not months down the road, so Iolaus had tossed a kink in his plans.

We sat around the table much too late for my father's liking. As a farmer he was used to going to bed early and rising before the sun itself. He clicked his tongue and spoke my name at regular intervals, as if I was personally responsible for his still being up at this late hour. But I ignored him, instead focusing on Iolaus.

How handsome he was! How kind, how interesting, how entertaining. I had never felt so cared about in as many years as I could remember. When Iolaus slipped his arm over the back of my chair I leaned back against it. Shameless you might think, but he liked it, for I felt his hand reach for my shoulder, resting there for a brief instant (enough for my parents to see) then his arm was away, hand reaching for water so he could continue his tales.

I wished the night would never end. My father, however, was not a patient man.

"Iolaus," he finally called out a little too loudly. "I have no room in our house, but you are welcome to stay in the barn. My wife will give you adequate blankets. That is, unless you want to travel back to the Inn tonight."

"Thank you," Iolaus answered, standing. "One blanket will be fine though. I'm used to sleeping outside."

My father stood and stared sourly across at Iolaus who turned to my brothers first, grinning and shaking their hands, then to my mother. He thanked her once again for the meal, and she thanked him for the fine hunk of boar that would feed us for quite a few days.

Finally he turned to me.

I stared across at him not bothering to hide my feelings, my fascination and even I suppose my insecurity, for when he smile warmly over to me, I found myself casting my eyes downward, looking back up only when I heard his step near to me.

I felt hypnotized by the sparkling blue eyes and the golden curls that framed his face, totally unaware of my family surrounding me. My heart beat against my ribs like the wings of a trapped moth on a closed door. I think I actually held my breath as he reached a hand toward my face and brushed his fingertips lightly against my cheek. I know I leaned unashamedly into his hand wishing this moment would last all night.

"Ania," his voice was warm and soft as he tilted my face up to his. I watched his lips curve bowlike into a smile. "Thank you for having me to supper."

I wanted to lean forward and kiss him, to feel his lips and find them as soft and welcoming as I imagined, but I knew it couldn't happen. Iolaus was a traveler And I a simple country girl with nothing to offer.

So I smiled and nodded and cast my eyes downward once again as I felt the warmth of his touch leave my cheek and the coolness of the room return to my soul. I heard my father clear his throat in impatience and my brothers shuffling uncertainly at my sudden change in status. My mother alone was silent and still. The room gradually came back into focus as Iolaus stepped away, accepting the blanket that my father thrust at him.

I watched as he turned, shooting me a smile over his shoulder and let himself out the heavy wooden door. The barn would be cold, but the hay was warm and the animals made some heat if the doors were closed. No wind would whip furtively across his limber body, howling like a woman scorned, nor dew rest unwanted on his weathered skin as long as he sheltered in our barn.

It was almost beyond my belief that he was here, only a scant way from my room, spending the night at our family farm.

"Ania," my father spoke sternly after Iolaus had left the house. "Don't get too attached to this traveler." His gray pebble black eyes stared hard and icy at me, at once gathering me in like a child and spitting me out like wad of used tobacco.

I felt myself shrink, becoming ten again, the age of unsure entrance into unwanted maturity, awkward and tongue tied and certainly less than graceful, noticing boys for something more than playmates and also seeing my father's stern reproval of my furtive below the belt glances at my male playmates.

"We still have Flatus's offer to consider," He warned, "and it is substantial, as he is in NEED at this very moment.

"No Father!" I cried out too quickly and too vehemently. I felt myself step back, my mother's hands reaching to steady my shoulders.

"Ania," my father warned. "It is my place to choose your husband, not yours."

"So that you can get a new plow?" I cried harshly. I leaned forward in righteous anger, feeling my mother's hand now restraining me.

"You think only of yourself," I shouted, hearing my voice cracking. "My happiness means nothing!" My breath seemed to be held prisoner in my chest, and the moth, caught there earlier, now pounded frantically against the door of my ribs, fearing that its last chance of escape into the light of freedom was slipping away.

"Ania," my mother spoke soothingly. "You know a woman's lot."

"No!" I whirled on her. "Not THIS woman's lot!" My hands were fists and my eyes filled with tears as I fought for even a little control.

"Ania!" my father spoke loudly and more than firmly. "You will do as I say!"

"No father," I answered, no longer trying to hide my pain. My eyes teared and my cheeks grew wet as I whirled on him. "Can't you see Iolaus has so much more to offer than Flatus?"

"Ah, but for whom?" my father called after me.

I turned and strode off to the room where I slept with my brothers, leaving everyone standing with mouths agape as I hastened my escape. My brothers dove away from the door as I entered, trying to fall back into their beds as if they had been sleeping, not listening.

"You didn't need to stand at the door," I hissed. "I was certainly loud enough for you to hear easily from your beds."

They turned their faces away, maintaining a wall of silence. I could see their bodies shifting infinitesimally, unable to relax, maintaining the posture of a lie.

"So he sold me," I spat out bitterly. "For what, the simple price of a new plow? A few pieces of silver and a tasty hog or a laying hen?" I paced between the two sets of bunks, feeling for the first time how powerful righteous anger could be, how quickly the unjust fell in obeisance when faced with truth. Perhaps the price my father paid was worth even more, simply for my own enlightenment.

"I'm NOT going!" I declared with finality as I reached for my cloak. "So you can all forget about your new plow, or animals or whatever else you collectively decided was my price. Flatus can just stay a widower, and if father doesn't like this, then I will gladly leave."

I turned on my heel, stopping briefly to listen at the door, but father and mother had already retired to their room, no doubt to chew over my response and how they could force me into marriage. I knew where I needed to go, and it wasn't here.

**

The barn was indeed warm and I felt a little bad about opening the door and letting the cool of the night in. But I got over it quickly. Iolaus poked his head over the loft at the sound of the door being flung so rudely open, and peered down, still wide awake and fully clothed.

"Ania?" he called out, not even attempting to hide the puzzlement in his voice.

I looked up at the sound of his voice and saw that he was no where near sleep, still alert and watchful.

"Iolaus," I spoke softly. The barn was still except for the soft swishing of the lone cow's tail. All the chickens were roosting and the hogs were sleeping together at the front of the barn as tightly packed as bacon slices.

I'm not going to cry, I told myself. I'm not weak. If I have to make it on my own I will find a way. I will wait tables. I will scrub floors. I will tend shop. But I will not marry Flatus. I didn't speak; instead I headed directly for the ladder to the loft. No matter that my cloak was heavy and my dress billowed, I climbed with agility and in seconds plopped myself down next to a puzzled Iolaus.

"He sold you?" Iolaus asked almost more as a statement than a question.

"To Flatus. For the price of a new plow." I was determined not to cry, fought it with every fiber of my being, but I could feel my eyes reddening and blurring as I fought back my tears of pain.

"You are worth so much more than that," he affirmed as he reached for my shoulders, placing his hands on them and holding me back at a distance so we could see eye to eye.

I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling and cast my eyes down, away from the intensity of Iolaus's azure stare. I focused on the heat his hands generated as they rested on my shoulders, the coarseness of the palms, crisscrossed with calluses and scars. I could feel his strength and imagined it flowing into me, from his heart, across his chest, down his arms and into my shoulders, flowing finally and heatedly to my own heart.

"I can't let you go," he breathed out softly. "I'll talk to your father," he vowed. "We'll find a way to stop it."

I shook my head, although I thought if anyone could talk my father out of this plan it would be Iolaus. He was so convincing, so honest. He would find a way. But I wanted so much to do this on my own.

"I'm going to tell him that I refuse to marry Flatus, and if he insists, I'll run away."

"Ania," he warned, it's not as simple as that. You have no one to protect you and how would you get away? On foot? Don't you think your father would send your brothers, or even Flatus, after you on horseback?" He took a hand off my shoulder and I felt the small fingers touch my chin, lifting my face so we could look at each other.

"You'd end up back here, and disgraced at that. You're too fine a woman to have to suffer the ridicule of others.

"Iolaus," I let the tears start to slide from the corners of my eyes finally. "I'm used to ridicule."

"Oh Ania," he whispered sadly and I lifted my face and stared defiantly into his.

He drew me close now and I let my head drop against his shoulder, wanting to get close but afraid to do so. His fine soft shirt was getting wet from my tears, but I didn't move away. I let him hold me and stroke his fingers through my hair as I tried to pull my self together.

"Shhh," he kept saying, his cheek leaning against the top of my head.

"I won't go to Flatus!" I spoke it against his chest, feeling the solid, steady beating of his heart against my hand resting there.

"No Ania, you won't." He stopped stroking my hair and I felt him reach for my face, turning it across to his again. "I'll think of something. You have to trust me."

I could see the sincerity on his face and knew that he was no simple traveler, but a man who could be relied on.

"I do trust you," I answered and I knew he could see that I believed him, because he gave me a small smile, letting the weathered creases at the corners of his eyes show.

"Good," he answered. "But it won't help your cause if your parents find you up here with me."

He was right, but still I didn't want to leave. I felt so safe, so wanted, empowered by this man. No wonder Hercules wanted to spend so much time with him! But if it meant being free from the prospect of bearing yet another Flatus child I would do as he asked.

I nodded and he released me. My shoulders felt cold without his touch and suddenly I was more aware of the sounds of the barn around me. The roof creaked as the wind picked up and the door was a little loose, catching and softly falling back with the heavier gusts. The hay crunched softly as our milk cow shifted and a pig grunted softly in its sleep. In the far corner of the barn, out of sight, I heard the soft bleating of one of the newborn kids and the heavy step of its mother as she rose to feed it.

The barn was far more peaceful than my parent's house, I realized. Iolaus was lucky to be here, away from the tyranny and oppression of my father's rule, and the impotence of my mother.

"Thank you," I said simply as I stood to leave.

He rose also and this time stepped closer. I stood still and let him approach feeling a little like a wary doe caught in the sunlight, and wanting what I only dared to hope he would offer.

And he did. As he slipped a hand onto the back of my neck I leaned forward, tipping my face up and he turned down toward me, eyes still open with a new softness shining in them. I can't even describe the peace and oneness I felt, but it seemed to me that at that one instant the Fates wove our threads together. For when his lips met mine ever so softly I felt as if I had been released from all troubles and burdens, that the moth had changed by the power of love into a butterfly, and was by the union of our kiss, set free.

It ended too quickly and I turned, knowing that another kiss would lead where I dare not hope to go so soon. I turned and without speaking silently descended the ladder from the loft to the main floor of the old barn.

"Sleep well, Iolaus," I spoke softly as I opened the door.

"Good night Ania," he called back as he stood high above me, arms crossed over his chest.

**

The next morning I rose early, not even waiting for my parents to awaken and taking all that was left of the feta, herbs and early peas I left alone for the market. I didn't want to be there when Iolaus approached my father, who would then stubbornly refuse to listen. I would prove myself useful and again bring home some money. I would sell all I had brought with me and if I was fortunate, I'd see Iolaus again and find out his plan.

My mind soared as I walked, one minute thinking about Iolaus and THE KISS, the next crashing down with thoughts of Flatus. My pack was heavy but I barely felt it, so determined was I to prove myself worthy of more than Flatus. Where once I cried and feigned illness to get out of going to market, now I relished the freedom it afforded me. I was still no haggler, but each day I came home with just a bit more money.

I was first this day to set up my booth, waiting eagerly for my first customer. I wanted to free my mind of my troubles, fears and inadequacies. I would not follow in my mother's footsteps, blindly accepting whatever man was handed to her, following his commands, accepting and yielding to his desires, whether they were just or unjust.

In these last few days Iolaus had showed me that a man could treat a woman with respect and kindness. That I had value. That I was capable of learning, given a proper teacher. And most importantly, that I had choices. Even if our relationship never went any further, I would always be thankful to him for this. Somehow though, I suspected that his feelings for me were as strong as my feelings for him.

And so the day wore on. My produce sold steadily and by the time the sun had barely slipped over its zenith, I was almost sold out. Still, I had seen nothing of Iolaus. This left me with a dilemma. If I sold everything I would have to take down my booth, would he then be able to find me? Should I head home or search among the other booths, though I had no money of my own? I decided that there was only one thing to do---raise my prices, and then I would be assured of keeping my booth open until the sun dipped lower, or I would go home with a heavy money sack.

And so it was that I found myself packing up a heavy money sack and folding my cloak sooner than I anticipated. I worked slowly now, scanning the area for signs of Iolaus. And just when I had given up hope, flung the cloak over my shoulders and started on the road to home he came trotting up behind me.

"Ania!" he called and I whirled around unable to suppress a smile at the sound of his voice.

"Iolaus!" I let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you'd never come."

"I had a few things to do," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

I raised my eyebrows and kept my thoughts to myself.

Iolaus chuckled, hanging his head and shaking it slowly from side to side. "You know Ania, you are one of a kind."

He had no idea of the truth of those words, and never had I felt that my uniqueness was acceptable. But Iolaus looked on me with such kindness and understanding that I found myself confessing.

"In so many ways," I laughed. "Did you know that animals hate me?"

"No," he responded uncertainly.

I nodded. "And plants wilt when I touch them."

He stared at me wide eyed. Don't tell me, you can't cook---"

I shook my head sadly. "But I DO try," I added earnestly. "And I don't sew very well either, I'm sorry to admit."

Iolaus turned to me with a half grin. "So maybe you wouldn't make a great wife for old Flatus." He scratched his head. Do you know anyone who, uh, maybe you don't care so much for, who can cook, garden and is good with animals? I might be able to plant an idea is Flatus' head. Perhaps you are worth less than he originally offered. Maybe someone else is worth more."

Not even good enough for old Flatus! I'd felt pretty bad about myself at times in the past, but this was a new low, even for me. Suddenly all the old insecurities rushed back, collecting in my stomach like a squirming mass like mealworms in a flour sack. Maybe I'd told Iolaus too much. My mother always said I shouldn't let anyone know about the plants and animals and my general lack of wifely skills.

I'd let myself get too comfortable with Iolaus, and now I'd pay the price. Surely he must have wondered why no other men were around me, and why my father was rushing to marry me off. I would make a lousy wife; my brothers wouldn't even try to fix up their friends with me. And now Iolaus knew why. I wasn't even good enough for Flatus!

I stopped dead in my tracks, suddenly wanting to vomit the small meal I'd choked down at noon. My hand flew to my mouth and I turned my face away.

"Ania, what's wrong?" he asked with concern. He stood still now and then I heard his footsteps and felt his body close to mine. He put a comforting arm around my trembling shoulders.

I couldn't answer. If I did it would simply validate all the ugly insecurities that struggled to control me. And so I held my tongue and shook my head, keeping my back to him.

"Did I say something wrong?" He was turning me around, wanting to see my face even as I slipped my hands over it.

"Ania," he spoke soothingly. I don't want you to be married to Flatus. I'll do what ever it takes to help you. I'm not going to walk out on you now.

I leaned into him, feeling the strength in his arms, the muscles of his chest. If I could stay like this forever I would. I truly wanted to believe him that he would, no could, help me. I turned my face up to his and stared silently into his eyes, trying to read his heart.

"Ania, I was late coming to market today because I've decided to stay in town for a while. I needed to make arrangements for a place to stay, a way to earn money."

His face was serious. I could barely believe what he was saying. "But what about Hercules?" I asked with trepidation. "Surely you need to be with him. You two are legends."

Iolaus laughed; such a pure and happy sound! "Legends!" He shook his head in amusement. "We're just a couple of guys who go travel around helping people. And Hercules is busy with one of the twelve labors. When he's done he'll find me. He always does. So I'm on my own for a while."

He was drawing me closer, his face getting nearer to mine.

"And I want to spend time with you."

And then it happened. Iolaus pulled me so close I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Though his arms were wrapped insistently around me there was gentleness there, and I didn't fear him. I leaned into him even closer and met his lips with my own.

For such a firm man his lips were incredibly soft. One of his hands slipped up, tangling in my hair and he tilted my head at such an angle that our lips fit together perfectly. And suddenly I knew I wasn't the useless girl my brothers would have me believe. I could do anything for this man. Oh it might take time, but I WOULD do anything it took to make him happy.

And then the kiss was over, not so long that either of us was uncomfortable or out of control, yet not so short that the point he wanted to make was lost.

"You are too good for Flatus," he declared with finality.

Part of me wanted to weep tears of joy at the words, yet a bigger part wanted to dance in joyous circles. Instead I reached my hand up to his cheek and stroked it, smiling broadly and answered.

"I'm so glad you're staying."

"Me too," He smiled back, not letting go of my shoulders. "Can I walk you home?"

"I'd be honored."

So we walked slowly back to my home, wandering along the wooded path out of town. This time he didn't stay for supper when we got there though. Instead, he opened the door for me and turned to leave.

"Iolaus, thank you!" I called to him. He turned back and a huge smile split his handsome face.

"Stop by the town forge tomorrow when you get through at the market," he called. I'm helping the smith there with some orders." His eyes twinkled. "Your father said I could take you for supper at the Tavern if I walk you home afterwards."

**

Supper that night was mostly silent. My father sat across from my mother and when he wasn't chewing on the stew she had made from Iolaus's boar he stared with stone hard eyes across at me, as if calculating my worth. I could almost hear his mind clicking like beads on an abacas at the hands of an accountant. He chewed silently and deliberately, and I felt like dying prey under the eye of a vulture.

My brothers sat silently as well, eating quickly. It wasn't often we had such a fine supper as boar stew, as they weren't even remotely the hunters that Iolaus was. In fact there were times when many days elapsed before a meal actually contained meat, unless we slaughtered a chicken or a lamb. But in general, we needed out animals. Eggs sold well, and the wool from the sheep would be spun into yarn and thread, all of which sold well. So Father and mother rarely sacrificed one of our own animals.

I tried not to look around, as I seemed to be the one thing that everyone wanted to focus on, yet ignore at the same time. So instead I listened to the slurp of mouths on spoons, my father's wet chewing and my mother's restless shifting in her seat while she hardly touched a drop of her meal. Nothing was spoken of Flatus or his offer. Indeed, my parents had been pleasantly surprised to feel the weight of the money bag I brought home to them, and from their expressions I could see that I would be sent to market once again tomorrow.

I excused myself as soon as I was done and retired to my sleeping area, knowing that I'd be up early to get a start on the trip to market. I settled myself in, after stripping to my under dress, and closed my eyes, wanting to dwell on Iolaus and how good I felt when I was with him. But I couldn't. The soft voices of my parents and brothers drew my mind away from him, and closer to the reality of the last few days.

"He says he'll make me a new plow if I tell Flatus, that Anya is not for sale at this time." My fathers voice was hushed, low and rumbling like distant thunder.

"He can do that?" One of my brothers asked wondrously.

"I've heard he apprenticed as a smithy, and kept the centaurs at the Academy in shoes as payment for his tuition," Another brother whispered. "So he knows his way around a forge."

"Sure he's working at the town forge for now, but what if he doesn't deliver and Flatus finds someone else?" another brother whispered.

"Then we're stuck," the oldest of my brothers whispered back. "And we'll support her for the rest of our lives."

"NO!" I thought to myself. "You will never support me." I pulled the rough blanket over my head and curled into a small tight ball, wanting to simply disappear. "And Iolaus won't disappoint me." I lay alone in the dark, trying to block their voices out of my head as I thought of Iolaus's consoling arms and concerned eyes. "And I will kill myself before I become Flatus's wife."

My mother's voice was soft and concerned. "He seems to be an honest and genuine fellow, and his reputation is well--- good enough to be spoken of in the same sentence with Hercules."

"There's a lot at stake here," my father growled. "Flatus will buy another wife pretty quickly if we turn him down. And what if this Iolaus doesn't want her after all?"

Quiet surrounded me and I could feel the heaviness of the room pushing down at me, the darkness swallowing me like one of the monsters that Iolaus had fought. In the next room the creak of a chair being pushed back cut through the night, and my father's heavy steps shuffled across the floor.

"What if he doesn't come through with the plow and we've already told Flatus to find another wife?"

I could hear him smack his lips and make a tight sucking sound, the one that meant he was making a tough decision. I could picture him shaking his head and staring down at the floor as he rubbed his chin with the palm of his right hand.

I felt paralyzed, like a small child who has done wrong and gone off to hide in the closet and hears her parent's footsteps. I lay under the coarse weave of the blanket and held my breath, knowing my fate was in my father's hand. Whatever he said would dictate my next move. My room was a small tight box, and my fears confined me there.

I heard another chair scratch at the floor, and my mother's soft footsteps joined my fathers.

"My husband," she spoke louder as if she knew I was listening. "He seems like a good man. He has been a gentleman, and a good guest. And he is loved by Hercules, what better testament can there be to a man's character?"

"A good point," my father conceded. "I will tell Flatus that I want to take some time to consider his offer, say a week or so."

"And if he wants her immediately?" my mother queried as if she could read my thoughts.

"That could be a problem," my father murmured. "But I will try to put him off."

"So there is a heart in there," my mother laughed softly. "Let's sit outside for a while and enjoy the night's coolness and the stars before we sleep."

I listened as the door slapped shut and my brothers filed into the room, kicking off their boots and laying in their beds, shifting on the straw stuffed mattresses.

I thought of Iolaus, of the warmth and coziness of the barn, of the soft lowing of the cow and grunt of the pigs as they settled in to sleep and thought it far preferable to being in this room with my brothers. But never the less I lay still and covered and pretended to sleep. I wouldn't be here forever. I would be no ones burden. And I prayed to the Goddess Aphrodite that Iolaus wouldn't let me down.

***

Iolaus took me to the Tavern the next night, just as he promised.  He arrived at the market square as the sun was setting in the sky.  I had long sold my wares, and having raised the price to stay in business longer, again had a heavy money sack with which to please my parents.

"Ania?"  I could hear the puzzlement in his voice as he saw me sitting next to the well, on a large flat stone, just surveying the merchants as they packed up their unsold goods and readied for their long treks home.

"I thought you were going to come to the forge if you finished early?"

I smiled up at him and saw the concern on his face.  The setting sun cast a reddish glint to the stray curls that stuck out of his leonine mane.  He had a half smile on his face and his head was cocked to one side like dog trying to decide what to do with mouse.

"I didn't finish long ago," I explained.  "I figured you'd be cleaning up."  I shrugged my shoulders.

He dropped down onto the flat rock next to me.  "So you weren't avoiding me?" He teased, but I could hear a hint of concern in his voice.

I looked down and scuffed my feet against the hard packed dirt.  Not avoiding, I thought, but testing perhaps.  Never in my life had someone as wonderful as Iolaus appeared, and really cared for me, and in truth, I was afraid that this was simply a joke of the Fates or the toying of a bored God who could just as quickly end this enticing relationship.  And so I had held back enough of myself so that if Iolaus simply left I wouldn't crumble, at least not outwardly.

"Ania?"  I felt him edge over closer and his shoulder touched mine.   "What's going through your head right now?"
I sighed heavily.  This moment had been weighing on me all day.  If I laid open my heart now would it be crushed or bloom?  If I didn't reveal my feelings would there be a better time?  Sure, I'd had boys give me more than a cursory glance, but these weren't the kind who I would have seen myself spending a life time with.  Iolaus was, however, and that he'd come into my life at such a perfect time seem almost unreal.  Well, the chance had to be taken.  If he was the one, then what I had to say wouldn't matter.  But if he was simply another of the lookers, he'd be gone before the night was done, never to be seen again.

I turned my face up to his, meeting his sea blue eyes with my own deep brown ones. 

"Iolaus, I think you're too good to be true."

He didn't flinch, his eyes never moved from mine.  I waited in steely determination for the verdict under his scrutiny. 

But instead of pulling back or laughing at me he leaned forward and gathered me in his arms, pulling me close to his chest.

"Oh Ania."  His voice was steady and quiet. I heard no sighs or clicks of the tongue.  I felt instead his arms tighten around me even more and his lips rest against my hair.  "I'm glad to hear that."  His lips were warm against my head.  "But Hercules says that too."

I looked up and saw the twinkle in his eyes.  "I only hope you don't do this with him," I answered slyly."

He pulled back in mock surprise, widening his eyes as I stared up at his sincere face. 

"Ania," he laughed down at me with a wry shake of his head.  "You're a gem.  I only hope I'm worthy of your attention."

"Worthy?"  I couldn't keep the shock from my voice.  "Iolaus, I told you I can't cook or sew or plant or work with animals"

"Yet," he whispered back.  "And even if you never can, just looking on your honest face, and seeing your kindness, and knowing you cared about me before you even knew about Hercules would endear you to me forever."  Iolaus smiled, I could feel the arc of his lips against my hair.  "And Ania, you trusted me without even knowing me.  And I could see your hurt cloaked about you like an old garment, held tight to keep out more cold."

His arms were warm around me, and his words were spoken truthfully. 

"Ah but Iolaus, you weren't cold.  In fact you were so warm I felt no need for the old garment any longer."

Iolaus laughed, a quiet and satisfied sound, and then he pulled away.

"Ania, we'd better get to the tavern.  I told your father I'd get you home before he goes to bed."

"Iolaus," I protested, "That's so early!"

"It's the price I paid to take you out tonight.  And let me tell you, you don't come cheap."

I only hope I'm worth it, I thought.  He truly knows so little about me.

**

The tavern was as dark as I'd remembered it the few times I'd been here to drag my father home on his occasional binges.  My father wasn't a drinker, but when crops failed and hunting was poor and he worried about his family, he went here for support.  All the men did, and most drank too much at times when saving dinars was most important.  But I guess ale makes a person forget that. 

The Tavern's candles weren't placed to shed light into dark corners and the only windows were small and located in the front.  Long bench-like tables were crowded around at the front of the dining room, a long bar was at the back.  Along the sides were some smaller tables, more secluded.  I assumed this was where people met to do business.  The room smelled of sweat and ale, and roasted meats and the noise level was high.  Men's voices rumbled and a few women's lifted in cadence, while somewhere in the dim light a lyre was being played.  The smoke of the candles swirled, brought low by the heaviness of the air, lending a dream like atmosphere to the place.

Iolaus seemed right at home.  While I stood uncertainly, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward one of the smaller tables that was as yet unclaimed.  Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out my chair and tucked it in as I sat.   We'd no sooner settled when a bar maid appeared, dashing over at the sight of Iolaus.

"Iolaus," she cooed.  "I was hoping you'd come around here again."  She leaned over him, ignoring me and letting her partially exposed breasts dangle heavily over the table at a level which could take man's eyes out if they swung too fast.

"You should have known I'd be back, the food here is great, better than my own cooking," he laughed, meeting her eyes and keeping his stare there, thankfully.

"At your service," she whispered to him as she leaned closer still, studiously ignoring me.

Iolaus didn't look uncomfortable.  On the contrary he seemed to be completely in control.  "Eleani, could you get Ania and me a candle?" he asked with a patient smile.

She provocatively smiled back and her eyes curved down his chest and lower before returning to his face.  "Anything you want Iolaus."  She turned and walked slowly and deliberately back to the bar, her hips swaying in invitation before speaking with the tavern keeper for minute.

I turned to Iolaus.  "You know her?"

Iolaus kept my eyes on his.  "Yes, for years. I grew up not far from here.  She's been around here for a long time.  And this isn't the first time I've dined here."  He smiled patiently at me.

"Of course not," I answered flustered.  I hadn't thought to ask about where he'd grown up, what his life was like, if he had a trade.  I'd been so worried about Flatus and so consumed by his attention that I'd forgotten about HIM.

Eleani returned with the candle and carefully lit it for him.  Never moving her eyes from him she recited, "Tonight's meals are boar stew, roast venison, and chicken soup.  All with bread of course and the vegetable of the day is carrots."  She beamed a smile on Iolaus but ignored me.  "What would you like to order?"

"Ania," he smiled my way.  "You order first.  Anything you like?"

I stared at Eleani as she turned her face reluctantly toward me. 

"Roast venison sounds fine," I ordered staring coolly at her.

"And you, Iolaus?"  She turned away, leaving her unsmiling face with me and bestowing Iolaus with her best come hither stare.

"Venison works for me," he answered.  He gave her a neutral half grin, but his eyes stayed on me and he stretched a hand across the rough table top, snagging my hand with his.

I watched Eleani as her smile faded and almost felt sorry for her.  Being a serving wench wasn't an easy job, and in a way I could see where someone like Iolaus could represent escape.  But Eleani's lot was her choosing, or at least it seemed that way to me.  And for the moment, Iolaus's attention was mine.

He waited until she was gone and we were relatively alone to speak.  Now he held both my hands in his, and I marveled at the feel of them, so strong and calloused, a mark from a bowstring, a few burns.  These were hands not afraid of work, of war.  And yet his face was sincere and kind, not your typical laborer or soldier, someone above that.  Suddenly I knew that I was with a person far more than a notch above the average villager.  And I felt so very small.

"I have plan," Iolaus whispered excitedly.  "Your father has agreed to put off Flatus for a month or two while I make a plow for him at the forge."

"Iolaus!" I gasped.

"No, no, it's not a problem.  I could make it much faster than that, I just wanted to buy us some time so I could put plan two into effect."

"Plan two?"  It was hard to keep the wonder out of my voice.

"Yeah.  That's where I convince Flatus to withdraw his offer and find someone else."  He was grinning widely at me.  "But I need to be subtle.  He seems like the kind of guy who needs to believe that something was his own idea."

"That could very well be," I agreed, still stunned.   "How do you plan to do that?"

"That's where you come in," he grinned.  "Can you show me where he lives on the way home?  And tell me where he hangs out, I can run into him other too."

And so I did.  Over roasted venison, bread, fresh carrots and the finest company I'd ever kept, I told Iolaus everything I knew about Flatus.   Eleani worked the tables giving me the evil eye until I no longer noticed her.  Iolaus kept me entertained with stories of his travels with Hercules, his youthful life and changed heart, until the evening had flown by and the venison had been completely consumed.  Never had a night seemed so short or the tavern seemed such a welcoming place as it did that night.

So it was that when he asked for the bill and paid it, that I felt a stab of despair at the reality of leaving and returning to my home.  I wanted this night to never end.

He held my hand as we walked down the wooded path and I found myself chatting idly about my childhood, about the dreams that had never come true, about my family's expectations for me and the lot of women in modern Greek society as he listened patiently and paced the road watchfully, one hand at his sword and the other holding mine.

The trip to our modest house seemed much shorter than it ever had before and I truly regretted seeing the lamp on the step waiting for my arrival.  My hand was so warm in his and my heart so light that the thought of letting him go and stepping over the threshold to the cool reception that waited caused a shudder to slither eel-like through me.  A good part of me was getting much too used to Iolaus's company.  But that small part deep in the core of my being warned that I wanted too much too soon.  I ignored the small part.

"Iolaus, thank you," I said with a warm smile as I reached for the door handle.

He stopped me.  "Will your parents be looking?"

"Yes," I answered honestly.  "And most likely my brothers as well."

He grinned ear to ear.  "I was hoping for that.  Ania, you're incredible,"  he said loud enough for them to hear inside the house as he pulled me into his arms before he tucked me against his chest and embraced me. 

Iolaus didn't seem remotely deterred by the possibility that he had an audience.  His arms wrapped around me as if we were alone and his face tipped toward mine so slowly and tenderly that no one, even me, could mistake that his intentions were pure.  His kiss was not lecherous or even passionate to the degree that would cause my father to come racing out the door, but more tender and caring and enduring than any kiss I had ever been subject to before.  My heart raced and I wanted to lean into him, answer him with my own feelings, but this was neither the time nor the place.

"Ania," he whispered as we broke apart.  "You will not be Flatus's bride, I promise." 

I nodded, keeping his cerulean gaze on my own dark eyes and wishing for this moment would never end.

"Thank you," was all I could say, although I wanted to tell him so much more.

He reached around me and opened the door wide, meeting my father's stern gaze with a gentle half smile.  He gave my father a nod.

"Good night, Ania" he spoke softly.

"Good night, Iolaus," I answered feeling as if I was stepping over the threshold between dream and reality as my father pulled me into the house by my arm.  My father nodded at Iolaus and closed the door, leaving Iolaus to make his way back to where ever he slept in the dark of the night as he drew me determinedly into the reality that was my life as a simple farmer's daughter.

I pulled away from my father's grasp and pressed my face to the window.  As I watched him walk jauntily back to town, I suddenly realized that I hadn't asked where he was staying or whether he needed anything.  And as my father grabbed my arm once more and steered me away I knew that my heart was marching up the path with Iolaus, though my body was being pulled into this prison which my parents called home.  My life had been forever changed by this glorious golden hunter and friend of Hercules.

**

It was almost a week before I was allowed to go back into town.  Honestly, my parents had run out of things to sell, it takes time to make cheese and plants don't grow to market size overnight.  So I whiled away the week unsuccessfully trying to hone my cooking skills and doing a bit better with the sewing.  I had long ago been banned from the garden and the barn, as I seemed to have a detrimental effect on all living things, except as yet, Iolaus. 

My father kept a wary eye on me, as if I would be running away (which I might have if Iolaus hadn't been so reassuring) and my brothers were unusually quiet, teasing far less than usual.  My mother seemed keen to try and help me learn my skills, but even she grew tired of my ineptitude.  So a long week seemed even longer.

On the sixth day of my relative confinement, Flatus came to our door.  I didn't even need to be in the room, I could smell him from the kitchen, ripe with manure and the faint odor of steely blood from a fairly recent slaughter.  It was evening and my father answered the door, so I stayed in the back of our small house, easily able to hear he conversation.

"I don't like your new terms," Flatus complained.

My father coughed uncertainly.  I knew his eyes would be on the floor.

"I'm already offering a hefty dowry for her, and now you raise it?"  Flatus snorted.  "But suddenly I hear in town that Ania can neither cook nor sew, and that she is bad with plants and animals."

"Where'd you hear that?" my father demanded, an edge of panic in his voice.

Hah!"  Flatus coughed out derisively.  "That bar maid at the tavern, Eleani.  There's nothing and no one she don't know."

I could almost see him nodding his head.  His matted hair would be bobbing in long knots and brushing against his shoulders.  His mouth would be twisted up in that half sneer I'd seen on his face so many times before.

I could almost smell my father's sweat as he answered.

"The price stands, Flatus."

"Yes!" I wanted to cry out, but instead busied myself with the after meal chores.

"Fine, but I don't like the time frame," Flatus complained.  "I have kids that need caring for and I can't work my fields if I have to take the time to do them.  I've hired a local woman, but it won't be long before she bleeds me dry.  I need this deal done soon."

My father was silent, and I held my breath as my heart beat faster than a hummingbird's wings.

Flatus couldn't wait.

"I'll double my price."

I heard the sharp intake of breath and knew it was my father's.  The humming bird's wings stilled and I slumped to the floor, knowing the answer before my father even spoke it.

"I'll let you know in a week."

**

"Ania!" my father bellowed as soon as Flatus had slammed the door behind himself, knowing I could hear everything that was said.

I didn't answer right away, couldn't.  My mind was whirling.  Iolaus had planted the seeds but they had germinated too quickly.  We had underestimated both Flatus's need and persistence.  One week!

In one week I would be Flatus's bride, unless Iolaus could pull a rabbit out of a hat.  In one week all my new found dreams would be shattered.  In one week I could be living on the other side of town, with a family of sniveling little Flatus's and a husband who saw me as nothing more than a servant, or a whore or both.  I would be nothing more than another of Flatus' short lived wives, a woman with no goal other than survival.

Until recently I'd never visualized myself as this.  Surely I'd never thought I'd be the wife of a man such as Iolaus, but certainly I'd hoped for at least a peaceful coexistence if not a small amount of respect from the man I married.  With Flatus there would be none of that. 

I walked slowly out to the main room.

"Father."

He spoke slowly and deliberately as he stared me coolly in the eyes.  "Your Iolaus only has a week."  

**

Market day could not come soon enough.  I loaded my pack and my baskets with eggs, cheese and fresh herbs and left at first light for market.   I practically ran up the path, and though the walk was not a short one, I was first in the square that day.  I didn't take the best spot, wanting to stay in business as long as possible.  I busied myself with preparing my stall and to any outsider I appeared single minded in my business.  But inside I thought only of Iolaus, well Flatus too to be honest, but only in the context of Iolaus. 

Would I see him today?  Was he at the smiths working?  Why hadn't I heard from him all week?  My heart pounded.  Maybe he was with someone else.  Maybe Hercules had come back and Iolaus needed to leave with his friend, an emergency- - - they handled those things.  My mind rolled over faster than a log in the rapids, and I felt like the logger trying to stay on it.

I was so busy ruminating that I almost missed him. 

The sun was barely slipping over the horizon and the dew was still a fine sheen on the grass as Iolaus hurried through town and toward the smith's shop.  His steps were quick and sure, his direction not from the inn.  Was he staying with Eleani, I wondered with a pang of jealousy?  There were so many things I still didn't know about him, so many things I wanted to know.

"Iolaus!" I called    and watched as his head swiveled alertly in my direction.

"Ania!" 

I could see his smile from across the square.  He turned and trotted over to me. 

I stood, hands at my side, not sure what to do or even what to think.  The week had been so long, and so much had happened.  I suspect that I might even have been trembling I felt so anxious.

But when Iolaus came closer and wrapped his arms around me I knew that he wouldn't let me down.  He was so open, so honest, so self assured and unassuming, how could I ever have doubted him?

"Iolaus," I breathed in relief as I pressed my cheek to his shoulder for a second and then stepped back. 

He held me at arms length as he stared at me with curious assessment in his eyes. 

"What's the matter Ania?"

"It's worse than you could think, Iolaus," I sighed and let my hands drop from his forearms limply to my sides.  "Flatus has upped the dowry, and given my father one week to hand me over!"  I bit my lip to keep from crying.  My cheese sat half unpacked on the tippy table I had set haphazardly at the back of my stall. 

"And I think my father will comply."  My voice was soft as I struggled for control.

"One week," Iolaus mused.  He took a hand off my shoulder and rubbed a day's growth of beard with the palm of his hand.  "Could be worse," he mused.  "I've had tighter deadlines than that, but I'm not sure they were as scary as your father."  His eyes twinkled and a corner of his mouth turned up in mirth, but as he saw me still upset his face became more contemplative.

He sighed heavily and drew my eyes to his own.  "Ania, I have to get to work.  I need to keep this job if I want to get you out of this mess.  Can you come to the smiths when you're done here?"

"What if it's early?" I whispered.

"Anytime," he smiled.  "You may have to wait a bit to talk with me, but we WILL get to discuss this."   He nodded reassuringly.  "And we will get a plan.  I want to walk you home again."  He grinned, and I knew he intended to talk with my father.

"Okay." I agreed.  I knew where the forge was, and although I was loathe to go where men alone congregated, today would by necessity be an exception.  My life was at stake.

Iolaus gave me short kiss, light and inviting, but not drawing me into the embrace that I desired.

"Got to go," he said solemnly.  "But I'll be looking forward to seeing you at the forge."  He gave me a sly half smile and drew away.

I waved as he trotted off, most likely already late because of me, and turned back to my baskets and packs.  A heavy money sack wouldn't hurt my case against Flatus' offer

** 

The forge was located at the edge of town, so that it was accessible to all, especially the farmers, who would need horses shod, bits made, tools repaired.  Since most people came to town weekly, they could drop off their broken metal pieces or leave an order, then check back when returning home.  The smith was old and well known to the townspeople as having slowed down quite a bit in recent years, but he had no apprentice and no one else in town knew the trade, so his business was still good, albeit not exactly timely.

I'd listened carefully today, and heard many times about the handsome new man working with the smith, how fast and strong he was, how friendly and how talented he was, and I couldn't help but smile.  Iolaus, friend of Hercules, was making quite a stir.

So it was that I approached with both trepidation and anticipation.  I'd sold out early again, as no one else was offering cheese this day, and my father's herbs were the freshest.  Mother had baked extra loaves of bread and those sold well to the men, so the sun was half down when I approached the heavy wooden doors of the forge. 

I stood silently, watching Iolaus through the heavy oak door frame as he stood leaning into the fire, shirtless but draped with a heavy leather apron that shielded his chest from the sparks.  He worked the bellows to produce a hot flame and was turning a hoe blade through the hot embers.  He pulled it out, glowing orange and grabbed a heavy flat headed hammer and pounded the heated edge until it had been drawn thin and sharp.  I watched his muscles swell as he raised the hammer, and struck blow after punishing blow to the hoe blade.

He examined the edge, taking a finger and quickly touching the cutting edge with a calloused finger, and then seeming satisfied, he plunged the blade into the water next to the forge burner.  A cloud of steam enveloped him, quickly dissipating and leaving his body moist and hair damp.  He stood silently examining the cool hoe, first visually, then by feel.  Satisfied, readying to place it where its owner could pick it up, he finally saw me.

A grin split his face.  He held up the hoe.  "What do you think?"

"Impressive," I answered honestly, but thought to myself that the man was far more impressive than the hoe.

"Yeah, well take a look at this," he nodded over to the far side of the forge.  I strained my eyes to see through the smoke and steam and could only make out a large amorphous shape.

"Ania," he grinned and grabbed my arm.  "Come in and take a look.  I'll keep you safe."

So I walked with him to the back of the forge, past the heat of the burning fire pit and over to where Iolaus gestured proudly.

"Iolaus!" was all I could manage to gasp out as I saw what he gestured toward.  There stood the finest plow my father could ever wish for.  It was sturdy, with heavy oak handles and tight metal etched with intricate horses bound the handles in place.  The rings for our work horse's traces to be attached to were made with a flexible joint which reduced the work load on both my father and the horse.  The metal of the blade itself gleamed, and I wondered if Iolaus had hand polished it.

"That's incredible!" I managed to say when I finally found my voice.  My father has never had anything like that.  No one here has," I added.  "It should have taken forever, but you've made this in what - - - a week?"

Iolaus nodded.  "Yeah," he said.  "The old smith let me stay on late at night and a few nights I slept here when it got really late.  But I did it on my own time and with materials I paid for or got myself," he added proudly, and rightly so.

"The design is different.  I've never seen a plow like this," I commented as I reached out to stoke the sleek sides.

"Yeah," he said dropping his head.  I thought it up myself.  See I'm not a farmer, but I know animals, so I tried design it so the horse could work more efficiently and get less tired."

It looks like you've done that,' I nodded.  "And the blade is so sharp."

"I thought it would cut through the soil better, turn away the rocks.  Your father isn't a young man anymore Ania.  I'll bet the jogging his shoulders and arms get are pretty bad now.  He's got to feel it when he rests at night.  See, I put these springs on the point where the handles attached to the plow blade and encased them in metal so they wouldn't get packed with dirt.  They should absorb a lot of the roughness."

I was stunned.  Iolaus had put so much thought and planning and work into this plow, not just for me, but for my father as well.  No wonder I hadn't seen or heard from him in a week!  I felt small and petty for thinking he might be off enjoying himself with Eleani, or someone else, but then I only knew men from my past experiences.  And Iolaus certainly was proving to be his own kind of man.

"My father will definitely like this," I asserted as I reached my arms around his sweaty neck and kissed his salty cheek.  I pulled back and grinned broadly.

Iolaus smiled back, not the happy go lucky smile I'd seen these past weeks but one that seemed to come from much deeper, carrying feelings that I'd only secretly dared to hope were there.  He kept his eyes on mine and held one of my hands with his own small, callused, but oh so talented hand.  It was moment that seemed to last forever.

Finally he released my hand.  "I, uh, have one more order to do.  It shouldn't take long though. It's only a repair.  You can wait out side if it's too hot in here," he offered.

Too hot?   I had the feeling that anywhere would be too hot for me right now, what with these thoughts ringing around in my head.  "Can I stay here and watch you?" I asked, unwilling to leave.

"Sure.  But don't get too close.  Sparks fly."

Yes Iolaus, I thought.  They sure do.

**

The evening flew by.  I asked all the questions I had been thinking this long week.  Where had he been staying? In the woods out side town, in a camp he'd built, near the creek where he could wash and clean his clothes.  He ate what he'd hunted and enjoyed the stars over head and the fresh cool breeze, the lullaby of the insects.  The night it rained, he stayed at the Inn, paying once again with freshly hunted meat.

I learned a bit about his childhood, his parents and about his favorite subject, his lifelong friendship with Hercules.

"I'm great with damsels in distress," Iolaus confided as we wandered slowly back to my father's house.  "Herc, he's a little bit better with the monsters, but only because he's a little bigger and had a little more practice."

I could hear an edge of pain Iolaus tried to keep out of his voice as he talked about his friend.

"So he's gone where?" I inquired, trying to keep the fear that Hercules would arrive and take Iolaus off somewhere out of my voice.

"Labors," he answered simply.  "It's been keeping him occupied for quite some time now."  His eyes remained cast down on the path.

"And you?"

"Oh I wait for him.  He'll be back and we'll adventure again.  It's some sort of rite of passage for him or something," Iolaus shrugged his shoulders making it seem like this was of little consequence to him, but couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice.

"I'm sure he misses you too," I tried to console him.  "And anyway, if you were off with Hercules right now I would have ended up Flatus's bride a week ago.  So maybe this is what the Gods have decreed."

Iolaus didn't look up.  "Hercules says that we mortals have a say in our own destinies, independent of the gods.  He says that's why the Gods try to manipulate us so.  They want us to believe we need them" 

"And what do you say?" I asked, thinking that he spoke rather boldly.

"I pretty much agree with Herc."

He paused here and took my hand in his, letting it swing as we walked.  I stared across at him, bearing my pack and looking up now at the sky, tracing the constellations with his eyes.

"Except for Aphrodite.  I think most people need her.  Oh not to set them up, don't get me wrong here, mostly to keep the magic in the relationship as time goes by." 

"So Aphrodite is for long term relationships," I mused.  "And have you ever made her an offering."

"I never needed to," he shot back at me in the dark.  "Wait, wait!  That came out all wrong!  I meant it like I never had a long term relationship, not like, um, um "

I stopped him.  "Quit while you're ahead," I warned.

We walked further in silence.  The tree leaves rustled overhead as a light breeze made them dance and sing.  The night bugs trilled and through the canopy of tree tops I caught the occasional glimpse of stars, shining like a diamond necklace across the sky.  Where I had left the house this morning in a worried rush, I now returned slowly and contentedly. 

Iolaus held my hand loosely, our arms swinging with our gait.  The woods gave way to a field, treeless and flowing with tall grasses gleaming silver in the light of the moon above.  This was near the edge of my father's property.  Soon we'd come upon the gardens and pastures where my father and brothers labored to make a living.  The night would once again end too quickly.

I stopped Iolaus here.  "Shhh!" I whispered.   We stood in silence and I felt the breeze ruffle through my hair, not enough to lift it as a gale would, but tender and caressing.  It carried on it the wonderful scent of the night flowers, the grasses crushed under our feet and from afar, the comforting scent of my father's animals.

Iolaus stood silently, as if he understood my need for the night to last just a few minutes longer.

"Will your father get mad if I kiss you good night?" he asked teasingly.

"Depends," I hesitated.

"On?"

"Whether he sees you or not."  I answered honestly.

"Then I'd better do it now," he said, his voice suddenly husky.

He didn't have to pull me; I came willingly into his arms and enjoyed every minute of that good night kiss.  I lost myself in the night, the cool of the air and the warmth of his heart, the feeling of his breath soft against my skin and the spicy scent of sandalwood that Iolaus seemed to naturally exude.

It seemed too little and ended too soon, but Iolaus was a gentleman.

"Ania," he breathed softly as he pulled slowly away.  "We need to get back to your house before your father goes to bed."

"He'll be up," I said simply, knowing that neither he nor my mother would rest until I was safely in the house.  I might be only a daughter, but I was worth a dowry they didn't want to lose.

"Well, I don't want him to be too tired or angry to talk rationally.  This is your best chance at freedom from Flatus."

I nodded, noting the seriousness that creased his face.

"And Ania," he added.  "You may need to speak up for yourself."

"But my father," I protested.

He shook his head as his fingers massaged my hands.  "No Ania, you can't be deterred.  "You will need to let your father know how you feel."

"But he DOES know!" I protested.  "Iolaus he doesn't care!" The words burst from me like a dam weakened beyond repair when storm waters swell.

"No, Ania," he shook his head.  "He just needs to see that you won't be home forever, that he will get his dowry, and that your happiness is important too.  So go with me on this."

I stood silently.

"I'm not sure I understand," I finally admitted.  What father would care for a daughter such as I for anything but a dowry?  He certainly couldn't hide my lack of skills, for there was only one reason a girl as old as I was wouldn't yet be married.

"Ania," he coaxed as he pulled me to himself once again.  "I've gone to a lot of trouble to see that our argument is well received tonight."

I thought of the beautiful plow, of all Iolaus's work, time, missed sleep and the effort he'd put into saving me from a fate worse than death.

"You don't know him, he won't listen," I warned, the fear rising like vomit in my throat.

"Not him, Ania but I do know people.  And he is a person," he chided gently.  "He wants the best for both of you."

"I'm a burden!" I blurted out the admission that had nagged at me for the last week.  "No one would want me besides Flatus!  I can't cook or sew.  Animals fear me, plants whither in my presence!  And by staying with him, I cost my father money.  Money to eat, money to clothe me.  Money which he won't recoup."  I stifled a sob.  I'd never intended to blurt all this out, but somehow Iolaus's reassuring words had freed my fears.

"It doesn't matter Ania.  You are a good person, with many worthy aspects if you only choose to see them."  He stared at me and under the light of the crescent moon and I could see his blue eyes blazing with emotion.  I reached out with my heart and mind embracing him as surely as I would with my arms and lips. 

"You ARE his daughter and he still loves you."

I wondered how he could say this, wondered how he knew about fatherly love given what he'd told me about his own father this very night.

"Ania please.  You need to trust me."  His eyes were intense, pulling me in.                    

"Okay," I nodded as I stared into his solemn eyes. 

"Ania, just do what's in your heart," he advised.

**

My parents were awake and waiting of course.  I entered with trepidation, not knocking, just walking right in with Iolaus in tow.   I stared across at my father's weary face and my mother's pretence at lack of concern as she busied herself with mending.  My brothers were engaged in a heated argument, which I took to be about me as they stopped suddenly, mouths gaping, when I entered.

"Sir," Iolaus addressed my father, shooting a sideway glance at my brothers, who immediately turned their faces away.  "Hope we're not too late for you."

My father raised a weary head and set his eyes on Iolaus, mouth a straight lipless slash in his pie shaped face. 

Iolaus squeezed my hand, probably feeling the tremor as I stood in judgment before my father.

My father simply raised his eyebrows and jutted out his chin.

Iolaus wasn't about to be deterred.   He stood before my father silently, never moving his eyes from father's own, letting the honesty shine out of his beautiful azure eyes.

The silence in the room was as total as I imagined death to be and I didn't want that now with Iolaus at my side.  I tossed my money bag, heavy with coins on the table in front of myfather.

"More than you'd hoped for," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral, but knowing that my family could see exactly now tense I really was.

Thank you, Ania," he intoned flatly.  "You may leave."

No," Iolaus spoke firmly, but without rancor.  "I want her to stay."

"She's my daughter," my father began, but Iolaus cut him off.

"But what we are about to say impacts her.  She has a right to know."

My father glared across at Iolaus and I wanted to wither up like a plant untended, but I felt him squeeze my hand, and I stood straighter.

"Are you saying I don't know what's right for my own daughter?"  My father's stare was icy.

"No, sir, I'm not," Iolaus responded earnestly.  "I'm saying that she's a grown woman now and capable of hearing what we have to say."

My father and brothers stared silently at Iolaus, hopefully realizing that he was twice the man any of them would ever be.

"No child would bring you back such a tidy sum of money each market day.  She's proven her value and found a job she does well.  She deserves to be treated like an adult."

I stared unwaveringly into my father's eyes, though at that moment I would rather have been staring into Iolaus's.  We needed a united front.  And if ever I wanted to be united it was with Iolaus.  I needed my father to see this.

"Very well," my father conceded, and my heart sang.  It was a small concession on my father's part, but a well calculated one on Iolaus's.

"Thank you," Iolaus answered, never taking his eyes from my father's.  I noticed how he stood tall and erect, feet slightly apart, the hand not holding mine hanging loosely at his side, at ease, yet at attention.

"Your plow is ready, ahead of schedule, and better than you specified, I dare say," Iolaus addressed my father, his voice strong but unthreatening.

My father's eyebrows rose.  "Better, you say?"

"Judge for yourself." Iolaus spoke simply.  "Bring your wagon around to the forge and I will load it myself.  I imagine those sons of yours can get together to take it off for you."

"Tomorrow it is."  His answer came out with a little grunt at the end, like the belch after a satisfying meal.   The room grew silent as my father and Iolaus faced each other unblinking.

"Which leaves us to discuss Ania," Iolaus ventured bravely. 

I could feel a tremble starting, like a child forcing herself not to cry, and tried to stop it.  I felt the tight squeeze of Iolaus's hand on mine and drew strength from it.  I wanted to stand tall, like him, not just figuratively, but mentally as well.

"So it does."  My father raised a hand to his mouth as if the very thought of me raised questions that were difficult to find the answers to.  "And what would you like to discuss?"

Iolaus didn't hesitate.  "I want to find out where your deal with Flatus stands."

My father sat silently, the only sign of his discomfort was the persistent tapping of his index finger on the hard dark wood of the table in front of him.

My mother chanced a glance to me, and then turned back to her sewing, the needle puncturing the woven cloth and the thread rising rhythmically.  She didn't miss a stitch.  My brothers sat transfixed.  No one stood up to my father.  Ever.

"You know the deal," my father glared across at Iolaus.

"I want you to say it.  Out loud, in front of Ania and your family.  They need to know where you stand."  There was no malice in Iolaus's voice, only reason and maybe challenge, although I did not as yet know why.

My father shifted in his chair, the first sign of weakness, and it left me feeling decidedly uncomfortable.  He cast his eyes downward, if only for a second then raised them back to Iolaus's face.  Never did he look at me, and I felt my heart sink.

"Say it."  This time Iolaus spoke with a firmness that I'd never heard in his voice before.

My father met Iolaus's eyes with a steely glare.  "The plow buys Ania two weeks.  Flatus may make me another offer at that time and I will consider it.'

I gasped, my free hand springing almost of its own accord to my mouth to hold back a cry.  I could feel Iolaus once again giving my hand a comforting squeeze.

"Father, no!" I whispered.  My legs felt weak, my hopes were flying away like migrating geese, moving like an arrow through Iolaus, through my father and beyond sight.

"I'm a man of my word, Ania," my father addressed me for the first time, finally casting his eyes in my direction.

"She will NOT be Flatus's bride," Iolaus spoke with undeniable conviction.

My father raised his eyebrows and snorted.  My mother missed a stitch and my brothers cast their eyes to the floor.

"Father!"  I choked out.  "I can't marry him!  Do I mean so little to you that you would want me dead?"

"Ania," my father chided.

"No!"  I cried out.  "Don't talk to me like a child!  You can't deny that all of Flatus's wives have dropped off like flies at first frost!"  I snorted.  "There's no warmth in that house, no nurturing."  I stared across at my father with fiery eyes.  "You are condemning me to my death!"

My mother gasped and dropped another stitch.  My brothers remained silent; brows raised and backs tight against the wall.  The air in the house seemed thick and heavy and I thought I would suffocate under the scrutiny of my father.

"That's enough Ania!" my father spoke tightly, barely concealed rage bubbling all too close to the surface.

"No father, I've simply begun!"  I found myself answering him back, in spite of the tightness in my chest, in spite of the ringing in my ears and rushing of my soul.  The time had come to speak or die.

"Enough!"  My father's voice was louder than I 'd heard it in years, and I could see the twitch starting at his right eye, the same one he got when the crops failed or my brothers didn't bring home enough meat after a hunting trip.

"Let her speak," Iolaus cajoled.  "Soon enough, if you have your way, she'll be gone and you'll hear her no more."

I felt a coldness take hold as I heard his words and from the look on my mother's face she felt it too.  I felt my body, as stiff as an old weathered branch, my breath coming in short spurts and my heart was pounding beneath my ribs.  I would have my say finally, and I hoped I wouldn't seem mean spirited or ungrateful when Iolaus heard me, but this might my only chance to let my father know how I felt before being sentenced to a short life as Flatus's wife.

My father had risen, his hands flat on the table and Iolaus now put a palm firmly but reassuringly on his shoulder.  "Sit, you can't discuss something rationally if you let your anger take hold."  He pressed on my father's shoulder and my father eased back into the chair.  My mother took up her sewing back up and tried to mend the errant stitch.  My brothers exhaled slowly as one and slumped down.

Iolaus pulled two chairs up to the table, and pushed one in as I sat down, then took his place next to me.

"I was always taught that ladies go before gentlemen," he began.  "And since I hear you've always been a gentleman," he eyed my father, "then Ania will go first."

I felt his leg press against mine under the table.

"Father," I began.  "I don't want to marry Flatus.  He's big and stinky and disrespectful to his wives."

"Is that true?" Iolaus prodded my father.

He shrugged.   "Big is true.  Stinky is, well, likely true, but most days I'm no flower when I get in from the farm work.  But I never saw him disrespect his wives."

"Okay," Iolaus slapped both hands on the table.  "Ania, have you seen him be disrespectful?"

She nodded vehemently.  "Oh yes!  I saw him slap his pregnant wife on the side of the head one day in the market because she paused to look at some cloth."

"No!" My mother exclaimed aghast and my father turned an icy stare at her.

My father shot her one of those withering glances meant to silence.  "Maybe he was disciplining her."  The excuse sounded weak, but Iolaus went with it.

"Maybe."  He shrugged.  "I guess you think it's okay to hit Ania's mother if she looks at something she wants, right?"

"I didn't say that!" my father retorted, but cast his eyes away.  He sat silently for a few seconds.  "Maybe he had another reason."

"Maybe," Iolaus conceded.   "But when is it right to hit your wife?"

My mother sewed furiously.  My brothers sat wide eyed.

"I've never hit my wife."  My father's fists were balled.

"But Flatus has," Iolaus pointed out quietly.  "And is this what you want for Ania?"

"Maybe it was only once,' my father grumbled, but I saw that he couldn't look me in the eye.
"What if he hit Ania only once?  Would that be okay?" Iolaus pressed.

I stared across at my father, his eyes still cast down.

"I've never hit my daughter!"

"No father, you never have." I answered honestly.  "And I don't want to be hit even once." My father met my eyes and I drew strength when I saw the pain there.

"Father!" I breathed.  "I didn't think you understood."

I saw a tear trace a trail down my mother's cheek as she concentrated on her stitchery.

"I am a man of my word," my father repeated, his face drawn and tight.

"Your word to whom," Iolaus prodded.  "Ania or Flatus?"

My father sat characteristically silent, but dropped his head into his hands.  His shoulders drooped and I could see the faint shake of his head.

"Sir, perhaps you've given your word to too many people?" Iolaus suggested.

He sat in his silent stooped position for what seemed like an eternity while I shifted uncomfortably and Iolaus sat at ease, eyes never leaving my father.

The small house was suddenly too warm, too tight, and I felt as if we were all swaddled in heavy cotton, covering even our faces. 

Through the open window I could hear the sound of crickets chirping a sonata, bull frogs sounding low and deep, and far away an owl. And I simply thought of the mouse, small, homely and trapped, hiding perhaps, and waiting to see what fate had in store for it. Would the owl snatch it away, gobbling up its life or would the small and lonely creature escape, to sneak furtively away another time in hopes of finding some morsel worth saving?

The air was heavy and though the stars had been shining overhead, the scent of rain stained the night air.  The clouds would be rolling in soon; the celestial light that graced the velvet night would be swallowed up.

"Would you be proud to call Flatus your son in law?"  Iolaus questioned quietly.  "What does he offer after the pig has been slaughtered and eaten and the hens no longer lay; a dowry only good for a short time?  Will he hunt for you, care for you or your wife in your old age?  Or will he ask for help to feed your new grandchildren?  Then what if Ania, too, dies?  Are you obligated to help him and the children?"

Iolaus paused and let silence fill the room. 

"Have you really thought about this?"

No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity.  I stared across at my father, cradling his face in his hands, his breathing ragged and his shoulders slumped.

Suddenly I felt sorry for him.  He looked so old and tired.  My brothers would eventually go off on their own, but I was a woman and if I wasn't wed, he would be expected to provide for me even in his old age.

I felt the firm pressure of Iolaus's thigh against mine and turned my face to him.  He shot me a look of frustration as I turned my sympathetic face to his.

"Be strong, Ania." He whispered under his breath so quietly that I could almost believe I'd thought it.  So I turned back to stare impassively at my father, as if this was a chess game and Iolaus was the upstart simply taking on the reigning grandmaster, but deep inside I felt my heart torn asunder.

I nodded, as small a nod as I could and still be sure he'd see it.    Pity would only send me into Flatus's arms, a fact I had to bear in mind.  Still, to see my father so broken was difficult to bear.

I let the silence in the room surround me, blocking out all extraneous sound.  The flicker of the candles and the scent of the supper I missed were the only things moving in the room, except perhaps for the wafting breeze that stirred the odors of my fathers sweat, Iolaus's spicy scent and my brothers' fears.  Time passed slowly.  I wanted to turn to Iolaus for courage, but didn't dare.  This was between my father and I, and of course Iolaus as mediator, and Iolaus had been adamant that I needed to separate from him, show my father my strength, and this I endeavored to do now.

And then my father looked up.

"What do you propose?" He asked quietly, voice not defeated, as I'd feared, but simply seeking wise counsel.

"First you must determine your priority," Iolaus answered.  "And then we can plan an action to meet it."

My father nodded.   "As a father I must take care of my family.  I've taught the boys all I know about farming and hunting, enough that they could sustain a family when their times come.  But Ania." He paused, still looking only at Iolaus.

"Ania is a dilemma."

I opened my mouth to protest, but felt the pressure of Iolaus's foot on mine.  I instead struggled to keep a tear slipping from my eyes.  A dilemma!  I had been reduced to a dilemma.  Certainly I'd seen myself as many other things, a mature woman, a daughter, a decent vendor, I could read better than my brothers, though I'd never let my father know that and my brothers were too embarrassed to say otherwise, but I'd never seen  myself as a dilemma.

"How so?" Iolaus prodded, and deep inside I didn't want my father to answer.  I didn't want to know, didn't want my inadequacies revealed to a man I cared so deeply about.

My father sighed and met Iolaus's eyes.  "She isn't exactly what a man looks for in wife.  Yes she's had a suitor or two, but none that made an offer once they came to know her.  And now here's Flatus, the only one who's been serious to this point."

"Not wife material?"  Iolaus questioned, and I felt myself shriveling up like a salted slug. 

My father shifted uncomfortably.  "Um, she doesn't seem to get the hang of womanly chores."

Iolaus stifled a chuckle.  "So a man would have to cook and sew for himself?"

"Yeah, kind of like that."

Iolaus nodded and rubbed a palm across his face so that he wouldn't laugh out loud.  "Okay," he finally answered.  "But it's all in the packaging.  Maybe her cooking isn't the best or her sewing isn't the straightest, but she's a beautiful girl, with a sweet heart and a willing spirit.  She can learn given enough time."

My father nodded.

"And she does a great job for you at the market, isn't that right?"

"Oh yes!" my mother interjected.

"So look at her," Iolaus spoke softly.  "Does she look like a girl who should be tied to Flatus?  Does she look like a woman that men could bypass for long?"

My father stared at me, his face solemn and assessing.

"She looks beautiful to me," Iolaus whispered, clasping my hand under the table and squeezing it tightly, sending his warmth like a lightning bolt shooting from my fingertips to my heart.

My father stared across the table at Iolaus, serious and sincere.

"And as a suitor," Iolaus returned my father's stare.  "I ask you to tell Flatus that the deal is off.  That you've found someone else who has offered far more than he could ever pay, and simply for the privilege of seeing your beautiful daughter."

Iolaus addressed me now. 

"I don't know how this will turn out, but I don't want to take the chance of losing the sweetest and kindest girl I've ever met without even a chance of getting to know her fully."

"Iolaus!" I whispered.

"But Flatus"- - -my father cut in.

"Flatus will have to find someone else."   Iolaus answered simply.  "Cut your losses and focus on finding Ania a husband who not only appreciates her, but can be an asset to you as well."

"My word - - - "My father cut in again.

"I consider your word good," Iolaus soothed.  "And Flatus doesn't care about your word for anything but a quick fix to his problems.  Who offers you more?"

Iolaus spoke with challenge, but his logic couldn't be denied. 

"And with Flatus's track record I would think the town's people would think you the wiser man for turning him down."

My father considered Iolaus's words, his mouth set in a grim straight line and eyes unwavering while I sat holding my breath.  My fate was in the balance.  I sat in stony silence, partly angry that someone else would be able to decide what to do with my life, as if I was no more than a milk cow, content to go wherever she was led; yet another part of me trembled in fear, that I could know there was a different path for me and still be kept from attaining it.

It came as a frightening realization that my life had come down to this one moment in time as a turning point in my existence.  The thread of my fate was to be mingled soon with another's, and I could but hope that it would lead me on a happy path.

The silence was unsettling.  I wanted to stare unwaveringly as my father and Iolaus were doing, but instead found my eyes wandering.  First to my mother, sewing perfect, tight little stitches.  I wondered if she was happy with her life, with the choice her father had made for her, or whether she made do and settled into life as a farmer's wife, mother to four children and help mate to a taciturn man.

Would she change her path now if she could, or had she accepted things for so long, that giving me over to Flatus was simply another of life's injustices to be tolerated, swallowed up and forgotten?  Or was her lack of support fear of the consequences?

And what of my brothers?  Were they afraid as well, that having a say in my own life would empower other women?  That their choice of brides would also come under scrutiny or that the brides fathers might find them lacking and refuse their offers as well?  They sat in a silent triad, watching my parents, waiting to see if my future would affect their lives.

And Iolaus:  He sat as still and silent as if he was hunting a prized beast, his hands now folded on the table, muscles relaxed. The candle light flickered off his golden hair and from the side I could see that he had darkening circles and swelling under his eyes.  He must be tired, I realized.  And suddenly I knew that he'd spent most of night on my father's plow, and then worked all day.  He'd taken me out for supper and now, in the early night hours when he would probably have loved to be sleeping, he sat in negotiation with my father.  Even the hardened ground of a camp would have been more comfortable for him than the straight-backed chair he sat in right now.

I had never considered that my life could affect so many people in so many different ways.

My father broke the silence. 

"You've spoken wisely, Iolaus of Thebes, and your reputation precedes you.  If the mighty Hercules trusts you, how can I do less?"  My father slapped a hand on the table causing one of my brothers to jump.

"I will tell Flatus that I have a better offer."

"Thank you."  Iolaus reached out to shake my father's hand.  "You won't be sorry."

"You're welcome," my father answered magnanimously.  My mother smiled and my brothers actually moved.  "Will you be staying in town for a while then?"

"I plan to," Iolaus answered.  "Hercules will be away for awhile and I've found this town to be welcoming.  The smith is letting me work, and then there's Ania."  He smiled my direction and reached for my hand.

"There's a vacant farm house not far from town.  Owners wanted to be closer to Athens.  Perhaps you could stay there.  I hear the ground is a bit wet this year." My father spoke without looking at Iolaus.

How did my father know that?  Had he been checking up on Iolaus?  Did he actually care enough to make sure Iolaus was who he said he was?

"Thanks," Iolaus answered with a grin.  "I'd be happy to check it out.  And can I ask a small favor?"

My father raised his eyebrows.  "Can I sleep in your barn and go into town with you in the morning?

**

Tomorrow is the wedding.  I'm happy and excited and scared.  My mother sewed me the prettiest dress and my brothers have actually hunted up enough game, with Iolaus's help of course, to feed the guests.  Iolaus has bought the farmhouse not far from here and I've decorated it.  There's enough room for children!  I'm the happiest woman alive today.  I made an offering to Aphrodite, although Iolaus doesn't know it, and I know she'll bless our marriage with love.  My father told me today for the first time that he loves me and that he'll miss me, and I believe him.

The flowers are ready and the guests are coming.  I want nothing more than to be the best wife Iolaus could ever find.  He will be my husband and I his wife.  We will have children and our lives will be complete.  Hercules is here too, and I have met his mother Alcemene, who will stand as Iolaus's mother as well.  I've never been so happy.       

                                            Fini

Ania's Turn
By Sandman

It was love at first sight, for me at least.

I remember the day I first saw him, so golden and strong, his curls lifting on the breeze as he whistled a happy song. He strolled into town, a sword at his hip and a bow and arrow in a quiver at his back. He was dusty, as if he'd been on the road for quite some time, but he still had a spring in his step, and the easy athletic way he moved led me to believe he was used to traveling on foot for long distances.

I didn't remember seeing him before, but I rarely get into town, although other people seemed to recognize him easily. He waved to them, stopping to talk to some, clap others on the back, as he proceeded directly into the marketplace, and I watched in fascination as this strange and handsome traveler entered our village.

He seemed so unlike the other men here. He didn't have the grime of manure on his hands, not that it's bad mind you, just familiar. He had a carefree attitude that shone like his blonde hair in the afternoon sun, yet carried himself like a warrior. I was intrigued, and smitten with this man who came in humility, yet shone with an aura of strength and kindness.

I, however, was nothing more than an only daughter, born into a family who wished I was a son, who could work the fields or earn a living so I could help support them. But I'm not good with my hands and have no dexterity with either needle or plow. Mother says I'm awkward. Father mutters that I'm lazy, but I'm neither. It just takes me more time to learn than either of them wants to spare.

This day I was at the market for my parents, trying to sell some fresh herbs from our garden and the feta cheese my brothers made from our goats' milk. But I wasn't very good at this either. Not that they expected me to be, though. I think they sent me to get rid of me actually.

So there I was trying to sell our merchandise and not even doing that well, as the new traveler strolled into the marketplace with his self assured swagger. Before he came along I had been watching people pausing at the different booths and taking their time, letting the warmth of the sun set a languid pace for their haggling. I let my mind wander, along with my eyes and I hadn't sold anything, even though the cheese looked good and the herbs were bundled with care. But a couple who'd already bought from a few others approached with an interested eye.

They paused before my booth, not bothering to even look at me while the wife pinched a leaf off a bunch of basil to smell it, feel the freshness. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the husband take a small taste of the cheese. Father said I shouldn't let the customers sample, as the produce would be soon gone, and there would be less to sell, but I was distracted. The nice looking traveler was heading in my direction.

I could have sworn that he was looking right at me, with a small grin creasing his face as the weathered lines that framed the outer edges of his blue eyes crinkled deeper. His stride lengthened. He was coming to my booth!

Gazing at the traveler, I hardly heard the man across from me trying to offer too low a price for the cheese, and the woman complaining that the basil bundle was too small for the dinars. I'm not good at haggling and probably would have let them have it for whatever they wanted but the traveler stepped up.

The couple grew quiet as he looked over at them, then back to me.

"I'd like some cheese," he said, looking at me with a smile and those impossibly blue eyes, and I wanted to faint. He exuded confidence, his voice was warm and inviting, and his small soft smile sent my heart fluttering.

He was talking to me! This was the kind of man every single girl in town, and probably some of the married ones as well, fantasized about, whether they admitted it or not. He was talking to me!

"How much is the cheese?" He asked, and I felt my face began to heat with a blush of red as his eyes met mine, holding them in his azure gaze.

"Five dinars for the large, three for the smaller," I answered at first not even daring to look at him, yet wanting desperately to stare.

"That's a great price," he answered with a smile in his voice. I heard the couple beside him murmur and watched as he turned his face to them.

"That's a five dinar piece you're eating," he pointed out to the husband, who paled as he realized that he'd been caught, and then thrust the money at me. The wife sniffed as she placed the basil in her basket and tossed a couple extra coins at me as they turned away, leaving me alone with my newfound negotiator.

"You can't let people take advantage of you," he advised. "They see a pretty girl like you standing here looking innocent and they'll walk away with your goods." He passed me five dinars himself, grabbed a hunk of feta and bit right into it.

"Not bad at all, but it would go better with bread," he commented.

I truly didn't know what to say. I had no bread to offer him, and in truth if I did, I would have been too tongue tied to even tell him. I just stared stupidly at him, and then started giggling. I don't even know why. I guess I was just nervous.

The traveler seemed to like my response, as his own face lit up at the sound of my laughter and he leaned in closer to me, laughing as well. I could smell his sweat and the dust of the trail on him, could feel an attraction that made me want to get closer, but I didn't. After all I was just a simple farm girl. I had nothing to offer him. And he'd soon be on his way.

I felt my throat tighten as my insecurities rose and I suddenly realized that I would never be the kind of woman that someone handsome and kind and clever would want. So instead of reaching out to him or trying to have a conversation I turned away. I didn't want him to see my eyes growing wet as I blinked away my tears, evidence of the pain that I tried to keep deep inside, but that he'd unknowingly pulled to the surface.

"Hey?" I heard the question that he didn't even speak and felt his hand reach over to my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

I breathed deeply and rubbed my eyes ferociously to stop them from dripping. I couldn't look at him, at his kindness and concern. I knew his face would melt my heart and then I would be left totally empty when he found out what I was really like. So I answered without turning back.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

The hand tightened. "What's your name?" His voice was soft.

"Ania," I answered, my back still toward him.

"And I'm Iolaus of Thebes," he answered. He paused briefly, but I didn't answer, couldn't answer. Iolaus of Thebes! I had heard of him, but had never been in town when he'd passed through!

"Well Ania, thanks for the cheese." The hand left my shoulder. "Maybe we'll meet again. And maybe next time I'll bring some bread."

I nodded wordlessly, finding the courage finally to face him. I tried to smile; it wouldn't do to turn a way a future customer. And though I felt small and beneath him, I couldn't remain silent, no other girl would.

"I hope so," I answered and wondered if he knew how much I meant what I said.

I saw a light flicker across his face and I glanced upward briefly to see whether the sun had passed through a cloud, coming out the other side.

He raised a hand, taking a bite out of the hunk of cheese.

"Ania," he called as he turned to leave. "I'll see you again, bet on that."

And then he was gone.

**

The walk home seemed longer than ever. I knew my parents would be angry when they saw that I returned with a little less than half the cheese when I should have sold it all. Another girl would have, and would have brought more money as well. I could hear their disappointed voices in my mind and felt even more miserable about myself than I had before.

What could I do? I surely couldn't sew, or cook or tend a farm. And I couldn't haggle successfully. What kind of wife would I ever make? One whose husband was hungry, tired and poorly dressed, I guessed. My parents reminded me endlessly of how other girls my age were married, some even with families already, what great dowries they had gotten for their families, but I, the ugly and untalented duckling, had had only one man interested.

Even now I shuddered to think about the whole incident. When old Flatus showed up at our door, I had the feeling he wasn't there for socializing. He had my father go walking with him and when they returned they shook hands and Flatus left whistling, a new skip to his step. My father was silent as he took my arm and led me, tightlipped, into the kitchen of our small home.

"Ania," he spoke gravely. "Flatus has offered me a price for you. Probably about as good a one as I'll ever get."

I'll never forget how the words hit me; my father's solemnity and silent stare made me think that the deal had already been sealed. My heart pounded and my mouth was dry. I reached up to my heart with one hand and covered my mouth with the other so I wouldn't cry out. Not Flatus! He was nothing but a bag of wind, and an old one at that. He walked around town crowing about his wives, all three who had died in rapid succession, leaving him with one small child each, none of whom he could handle. He was dirty, his children were dirty and he was OLD!

"Father!" I gasped. My voice became tremulous as I saw the resignation in his eyes. "You can't!"

My father stared at my horrified eyes, unblinking. "And why not Ania? You're certainly old enough to be married. You're not much good around the house, and no one else seems interested."

His eyes never left mine, and I noticed for the first time what a cold shade of steely gray they were, how hard and sinewy my father had become as he'd aged. His face was tightly lined and weathered and all softness that was ever there had been eroded by time and the elements. Even his smile lacked warmth.

"You eat our food, drink our wine but offer us nothing in return. This is a money making proposition,"

"Father!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "I offer you love, unconditionally, as you obviously don't have for me." I turned my back on him and tried to catch my breath, to still the pounding of my heart and the rush I heard in my head.

Not Flatus!" I whimpered. "Surely I'll die like his other wives! He doesn't even care for anyone but himself. He's nothing but a bag of wind."

"Now Ania," my father warned.

I heard the quiet footsteps of my mother as she entered the kitchen and felt the light touch of her reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Ania," she spoke softly. "What else are we to do?"

I could hear the pain in her voice, but she knew the lot of women. She herself had been relatively lucky. My father never abused her to my knowledge and had provided adequately for the family she had given him, though I wasn't sure that she had loved him at first or perhaps ever. Still, not all women were so fortunate.

I whirled to her. "Mother I can't!" I wept. "He's old, and mean. He even kicks his dog!"

"Shhh, Ania." She wrapped an arm around me. "Your father is trying to do what's best."

"Best?" I cried. "For whom? Surely not me. Am I nothing more than a few chickens, hogs and maybe even a cow?"

"Now Ania," my father warned. I could hear the clumsy footsteps of my brothers as they tromped in to find out what all the noise was about. They stood in a dirty little semicircle behind my father, like a small army.

"No!" I yelled, shaking in fear and anger. "I'll leave now if you want!" I couldn't believe that my father had sold me out so quickly, like some unwanted piece of clothing that no longer fit its owner.

"I'll find my own way in the world if I must!" I stomped my foot on the packed hard dirt of the floor.

"Ania," my mother spoke soothingly. "Let me talk with your father."

I saw her catch my father's steely eye and watched her nod her head to direct him to the other room. I felt the warmth of her arm slip away from my shoulder as she leaned to my father, taking his hand, and left me alone with the semicircle of laughing brothers, who themselves were not yet wed.

I dropped into a chair and let my face fall into my hands. I could hear the whispering in the next room, the snickers of my brothers and the scuffle of their steps as they left, deeming my fate not interesting enough to even see the end of. And then I was alone.

Time moved so slowly. In my mind I could see nothing other than the wrinkled face of Flatus, leering with gap toothed mouth and the foot that viciously kicked the small cur that his children loved like the mother they didn't have. I could smell the rancid odor of his filthy sweat, mingled with the hog manure he spread upon his poorly tended garden, yet another chore for the prospective wife.

And in my mind I felt his touch, cold and rough, caring only for his own needs. I felt the smack of his hand against my face when he found out that I could neither cook nor sew, that plants wilted at my touch and even his children's cur couldn't stand my presence. Worst, I could feel the frigid touch of his body on mine, taking without giving and the ice of his lips so dry and wrinkled against mine.

And I cried. In a house full of brothers yet feeling alone in the kitchen, head in my hands, I berated the gods for making me such a useless woman that my own family would sell me like I was a market item, and not even for a good price, I was willing to wager.

I would rather be dead, I thought than to be married to Flatus. But how to do it? I didn't have the courage to use a hunting knife and didn't know whether I'd be able to swallow enough of the foul poison berries that grew at the edge of the woods.
Once, when I was younger, my brothers had convinced me to eat a handful and they tasted so foul I spilled the contents of my stomach almost right away, clutching the trunk of a tree to keep from falling into my own waste. I couldn't hold it down then, and I doubted I'd be able to do it now.

Run away?

My thoughts were broken by my mother's hand once again on my shoulder.

"Ania," she spoke with quiet firmness. "We will tell Flatus that you cannot go yet, that you are still needed here."

"But," my father growled, "If I get no other offers within a reasonable time I will be forced to talk to Flatus once again."

I reached for my mother's hand, clasping it firmly and tipped my face up to my father's.

"Thank you," I said, when I really wanted to curse at him, to hit him and cry and run from the room. For my status had been declared to all that day, and my father had found me lacking, as usual.

And so I had been spared the fate of being wed to Flatus, who soon would marry another young woman, if not me. Being married to the old fart was suicide in itself. He'd found a new bride, a spinster even now pregnant, and probably would soon die in child birth or at his hands.

The basket felt heavy in my arms and I wished I'd been able to sell more of the cheese and herbs. I could hear the mocking laughter of my brothers, the scorn in my father's voice when I returned home with the basket still half full. My mother would silently commiserate and I would have to return to the market the next day to sell the rest and more.

And the threat of Flatus would hang over my worthless head as I waited to see if his wife would survive childbirth. I would pray to Aphrodite every day that love would bloom between the two of them, and that she would live, giving my father one less lever against me.

**

As I expected, the very next day I was required to take another trip into town to sell the remaining produce and more even. The morning had been cool, with dew still on the grass and the sun just peeking its face over the horizon, when I started out. I ambled along, thinking of the handsome Iolaus and hoping he'd again show up at the market today. I'd packed two hunks of bread to share if he came to buy more cheese. I whiled away the hour's walk thinking about what I'd say if I saw him.

This day I wasn't as slow to set out my wares, and I looked around as the townsfolk came wandering into the square. I smiled when people neared, as my father had told me to do, and nodded my head to those I recognized. I felt the heat of the sun on my shoulders, and found myself a bit warm under the woven dress my mother had made for me, and the cloak she insisted I wear today. So I slipped off the cloak, and noticing how the cheese and herbs contrasted nicely with it, I laid out the cloth and placed my wares on it.

It wasn't long until I had a customer, then another. The sun rose higher in the sky and the town came alive with both vendors and customers. The air was crackling with the calls of people hawking their goods, metal pans, fresh produce, and eggs. Hens squawked as they were examined for plumpness, or in the case of layers for overall health, although I had no idea how one determined that. Goodness, it wasn't as if the hen would stick out its tongue and say "AHH."

So it was that I was taken by surprise when Iolaus appeared at my stall, grin on his face and three dinars in his hand.

"I'll take the smaller piece today," he said, and I whirled around, red-faced that I hadn't even heard his approach.

Suddenly every clever thing I had thought to say flew away like a chicken about to be slaughtered. My hand went to my mouth without my even thinking about it and I could feel my eyes growing rounder.

"Iolaus!" I breathed the name out with obvious surprise as I stared into his twinkling eyes.

Today he looked even better than yesterday. No more dusty clothes, no more sweat slicked skin or muddy boots. His hair, no longer damp ringlets from the arduous trek, was freshly washed and shone as golden as the mid day sun overhead.

He leaned toward me and I could smell the heady scent of sandalwood on him. His skin, though weathered, looked soft, and as he reached for a small piece of the feta I noticed that his hands were calloused. My father said that this was the mark of a man. His shirt front fell open a bit as he leaned, and I couldn't help but sneak a peek at his chest, so firmly muscled. Now I was sweating.

"Take what ever piece you want," I finally said.

He laughed. "A three dinar piece will be fine."

He reached for a small chunk and I pushed a larger one to him.

"Repeat customers get special treatment," I responded, allowing myself a small smile.

"No no," I won't eat your profit," he answered as he dropped the three dinars into my hand. It seemed to me that his fingers brushed my palm, and my hand tingled at the touch.

"Please," I answered as firmly as I could muster. I dropped my head and murmured, "And I brought some bread for you too."

"Ania!" I heard the pleasant surprise ringing in his voice. "Thank you."

I looked up finally and saw that he was smiling gently my way, as if he could somehow ease my discomfort with just a look.

I nodded and clumsily fumbled with my tote sack, feeling about in it for the lump of bread. I pulled it out, wrapped in a linen napkin and handed it to him, then passed him a five dinar chunk of feta.

"Will you get in trouble?" he questioned, his head cocked and concern etched into those impossibly blue eyes.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm always in trouble with my parents for something or other."

"I remember those days," he responded, then took my bread, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary against mine. "May I sit with you and eat?"

"I'd be honored," I answered politely as my mother had taught me. Inside I was quaking, afraid to look up at him.

How could this be? My dreams never came true. I was a simple country girl, with no skills, no self confidence, nothing I could see that would encourage a sought after man to pay attention to me. Yet here was Iolaus of Thebes, come back a second day for more than the feta. There had to be a catch.

But he moved behind the stall with me and sat on a rock as if it was perfectly natural for him and took a huge bite out of the bread and feta.

"Come on Ania," he patted the rock beside himself.

I looked around to see if any customers were close or interested, but everyone seemed to be milling aimlessly around at this time, so I sat next to him, but not too close, and tried to keep my eyes on the cheese.

"So Ania," he said through a mouthful of lunch, "I've passed through here quite a few times but never saw you."

I blushed and turned my face further away. "Oh, mostly I stay at home. Sometimes, especially during harvest or when my brothers are busy hunting or plowing, I have to come to town to sell the wares."

He grunted and tore into the bread again.

"But I'm not a very good sales person," I admitted.

"Well, they're missing the boat," he asserted. "They could come around just to take a peek at a pretty girl."

Pretty girl! My breath caught with in my chest. No one had ever called me pretty except my mother. My brothers had always laughed at my awkwardness, teased me about my shyness and laughed that no man would want a wife who couldn't cook or sew or work the fields.

"Iolaus!" I said in uncertainty and surprise.

"What?" He answered. "It's true. You are a very beautiful woman. And kind. I mean, you gave me a five dinar chunk of cheese and brought some bread to go with it. You didn't snap at the rude guy who over sampled your wares yesterday and you let his wife take a huge chunk of basil at a low price."

"I'm just a lousy sales girl," I answered, letting my gaze fall to the dirt at my feet.

"Anya," he spoke with pain in his voice. "There's nothing lousy about you. You're kind and thoughtful." I felt his hand reach for my face, his fingers on my chin as he turned my face to his.

I looked up at him, feeling small and unworthy, but wanting to scoot closer to him, to somehow let myself feel for only this once that someone really liked ME for what I was and didn't hold me in contempt for who I should be.

"Iolaus," I whispered. "You don't know me."

"But I'd like to," he answered softly, letting the bread and cheese fall to his lap as he reached for my hand.

I could see his sincerity and it stunned me like a doe as the arrow struck her heart true. My stomach flipped and I tried to concentrate on his fingers against my chin and cheek, so warm. I wanted this moment to last forever. Never before had a man treated me with such kindness.

"Young lady!" a voice called. I jumped up, turning to the customer at hand. "If you could tear yourself away for a moment."

So I left Iolaus sitting there, eating a piece of bread with cheese, and helped the older gentleman and his wife to sample the wares. And the customers kept coming as Iolaus ate. My father would expect that I would return without the produce and with a bundle of money instead, so I kept at my work, never noticing when he left until I turned when the sun was low in the sky and my cloak lay bare, and he was gone.

**

Three days passed and my parents never asked me to go to market. I worried that Iolaus had continued on his journey and that I would never see him again. Though I wasn't a great sales woman, and they usually didn't go to market but twice a month, I begged my parents to send me back to town. I needed to see if he was still there.

Each night I dreamed about the handsome Iolaus, who saw me as beautiful, who could make me feel as if I could do anything. I had, after all sold all that I'd brought with me the second day at market, after he'd buoyed me. When Iolaus sat next to me I wasn't "just Ania" as I was at home. I had never felt that good before, and craved the chance to feel it once again.

So when my parents finally asked one of my brothers to take the wares to town I begged them and cried and told them that since I was no good at home I should at least be given market duties, that way I wouldn't be underfoot at home and my brother could work the field. And for once my parents agreed.

So I set out at dawn on a warm spring morning and listened to the sounds of the birds awakening and calling for mates, the chirp of the crickets fading and the buzz of an early cicada. I dashed down the dirt road, barely noticing that the dew clung to the grass like diamonds while on the high trees the new budded leaves whispered like old women gossiping as I passed. My feet flew as I headed into town, each step bringing me closer to Iolaus.

But what if he wasn't there? He was a traveling man, and if Hercules needed him he'd be gone. And I would wait all day, hoping but not seeing him. Perhaps I was living in a dream world, one where Iolaus would sweep me off my feet and all the girls for towns around would finally envy me, and I would be happy for the rest of my life. My step quickened until I was running, laden with wares, and my cloak flew out behind me flapping like the wings of small dull sparrow.

The town square was still quiet when I arrived, picking a prime spot, not too close to the entrance from the road, but a few stalls up, where people would be more inclined to part with their dinars, and there I placed my cloak. I carefully placed the cheese and now some fresh spring peas and green onion stalks, arranging them so that they caught the eye.

Business started slowly, but by the time the sun had ascended to somewhat shy of mid-day, I had begun to see more of my produce being sold, and more quickly. I greeted the customers with a smile, reserved a piece of feta for sampling and chatted with the ladies.

I was doing a good business when one of the older women sidled up. I knew her as a busybody and when she tried to sneak a pea pod I shot her a look like my father gave me when I reached for the last piece of bread.

"So Ania," she sneered. "Did you hear the news?"

I raised an eyebrow, but tried not to look too interested. I might be single, but I didn't want to throw my lot in with the biddies.

"Old Flatus' wife died this morning after having given birth to a baby boy."

NO! I couldn't speak, couldn't give her the pleasure of seeing what I truly felt, my despair and fear.

"Really?" I finally managed to speak.

"Yep," she answered watching me closely. "Guess he wouldn't pay a midwife and she bled to death." She leered across at me, her eyes taking on a carnivore's sparkle. "Word has it he's already been to see your father." She cackled and stared across at me waiting to see how I'd respond.

"Would you like to buy some cheese?" was the only thing I could think to say at that moment. My mind was numb and my heart was beating out of my chest.

"Nope. Just thought you might want to know, so you'd be ready when you got home." She cackled once again and I thought that if she was a hen I'd have no trouble lopping off her head. I stared after her substantial backside as she hobbled off leaning heavily on her knobby cane to the next stall.

If I could have crumbled into the dirt at my feet I surely would have, but there were customers approaching and if I was to have any leverage with my father I would have to make sure to sell everything today. So I turned to the approaching customers with a vacant smile and offered them a sample.

The sun was almost down when Iolaus came to my booth. I was shaking out my cloak and thanking the gods that I had somehow managed to sell all my father's wares when I felt a small hand on my shoulder.

"Hi Ania," he said.

His voice was happy and he kept his hand on my shoulder as I turned to face him.

I couldn't hide my despair. As I stared into the handsome face, the azure eyes, I lost the battle to push back all that I was feeling. The tears slipped down my cheeks and I hung my head.

"Ania!" he spoke softly, but I could hear the concern in his voice. "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier."

"It's not you," I choked out.

Both hands were on my shoulders now. I felt him pulling me close, his arms slipping from my shoulders around my back and nestling my face against his shoulder. I could feel the beating of his heart against mine, the warmth of his body and wished that this was the way it would be forever. But it wouldn't. When I went home, I would be betroved to Flatus.

"Ania, what's the matter?" He stroked my hair and I could feel his breath across my head. His arms were strong, yet never squeezed me.

I didn't know how to answer him. He had no idea what had transpired over the last year, what my life was like. He knew me only as Ania, seller of feta cheese and miscellaneous produce. And yet, I realized, he accepted me just as I was. I wasn't a princess, or a goddess or even a family member. I was no one. Simply Ania, yet here he was holding me and trying to help me.

And so I told him very simply of what had transpired today, and how I had escaped the same fate a little more than a year ago. I wept as I told him how little regard the men in my family had for me, and how I felt as if I was being simply tossed like garbage to the hog.

Iolaus said nothing as I cried on his shoulder, but he kept stroking my back very comfortingly as I poured out my story. I heard a sharp intake of breath as I finished.

"That's not true, Ania." He blurted out. "You are a very beautiful girl. And look how quickly you learned to sell! Maybe you simply need the right teacher."

"Very kind," I managed to choke out, and indeed it was, for though my mother had tried desperately to teach me the fine art of cooking, and sewing for that matter, I simply couldn't grasp the little nuances that perfected the craft.

Iolaus released his hold on me and stepped back, carefully keeping his hands on my shoulders. "It's getting dark," he said matter of factly. "I'll walk you home."

"No no," I protested. "You needn't do that I'll be fine."

"Hush," he commanded.

And I, used to taking orders from men, obeyed and stood mutely staring across at him.

"He realized his error right away. "No Ania, it's okay to talk to me, just let me walk you home. I have a plan."

"A plan?" I couldn't hide my excitement. Goddess' knew I would grasp any straw offered to me at this point.

"Yeah," he grinned at me. "I was out hunting, that's why I came here so late. Got a wild boar too."

I could see he was proud, and truly I was impressed. Not many men hunted wild boar alone. I remembered that my brothers had set off as a trio and two came back badly gored, without the boar too. Yet Iolaus was hardly dirty, let alone injured. And he'd carried the boar home too. So the legends were true, that he was Hercules's mortal equal, only not as strong. But every bit as courageous and clever and capable as the demigod. Suddenly I felt even smaller and less worthy of his attention.

"We should have time to go back to the Inn where I'm staying and get the Innkeeper to give us a chunk of the meat to bring to your family. He'll still have plenty to pay off my room and food and make stews for his other guests."

I reached up to rub my eyes dry with the back of my hand and felt him push my hand away, dry the tears with his fingers.

"Ania," he breathed softly. "I'm coming home with you tonight. Maybe your parents will think twice about marrying you off so quickly if they see you have another interested person."

"Iolaus!" I grabbed him in a hug so spontaneous that I forgot to hide how I truly felt. And he could tell. He felt something for me too, I was sure of it! I could feel his heart beat faster as I pressed tightly against him, and he laid his cheek against my hair breathing softly and quickly in to it. His arms pulled me tighter.

"Ania," he said into my hair so quietly I wondered if I dreamed it.

Suddenly I realized we were still standing in the middle of the town square with vendors taking down their booths and a few stragglers milling about. No decent young woman would be seen like this with a traveler. I pulled away, even though my heart wanted to nestle deeper into his.

"Thank you," I smiled up at him with hope in my face. He grabbed my hand.

"Let's get to the inn and then get on the road before it gets too dark."

**

I barely spoke that night over supper. After their initial surprise at my coming home with a man, and a young handsome one at that, my parents set an extra place at the table. My mother was enchanted by Iolaus's profuse praise of her cooking and the respect he showed her, unlike many male guests. My brothers wanted to know about his adventures with Hercules, and Iolaus kept them on the edge of their seats with stories about monsters, and wars and the actions of the Gods and Goddesses told with such animation that we felt a part of them.

My father sat with his face puckered in sour disregard. I could hear his thoughts of disdain that he may have to put his plans on hold to marry me off to old Flatus, to see if he could get more for me after Iolaus had showed an interest. After all, Iolaus was a traveler, not a man looking for a wife, but when the other unmarried young men in the village caught wind that he'd come home with me, it just might spur some suitors with more dinars than Flatus. But my father wanted a new plow now, not months down the road, so Iolaus had tossed a kink in his plans.

We sat around the table much too late for my father's liking. As a farmer he was used to going to bed early and rising before the sun itself. He clicked his tongue and spoke my name at regular intervals, as if I was personally responsible for his still being up at this late hour. But I ignored him, instead focusing on Iolaus.

How handsome he was! How kind, how interesting, how entertaining. I had never felt so cared about in as many years as I could remember. When Iolaus slipped his arm over the back of my chair I leaned back against it. Shameless you might think, but he liked it, for I felt his hand reach for my shoulder, resting there for a brief instant (enough for my parents to see) then his arm was away, hand reaching for water so he could continue his tales.

I wished the night would never end. My father, however, was not a patient man.

"Iolaus," he finally called out a little too loudly. "I have no room in our house, but you are welcome to stay in the barn. My wife will give you adequate blankets. That is, unless you want to travel back to the Inn tonight."

"Thank you," Iolaus answered, standing. "One blanket will be fine though. I'm used to sleeping outside."

My father stood and stared sourly across at Iolaus who turned to my brothers first, grinning and shaking their hands, then to my mother. He thanked her once again for the meal, and she thanked him for the fine hunk of boar that would feed us for quite a few days.

Finally he turned to me.

I stared across at him not bothering to hide my feelings, my fascination and even I suppose my insecurity, for when he smile warmly over to me, I found myself casting my eyes downward, looking back up only when I heard his step near to me.

I felt hypnotized by the sparkling blue eyes and the golden curls that framed his face, totally unaware of my family surrounding me. My heart beat against my ribs like the wings of a trapped moth on a closed door. I think I actually held my breath as he reached a hand toward my face and brushed his fingertips lightly against my cheek. I know I leaned unashamedly into his hand wishing this moment would last all night.

"Ania," his voice was warm and soft as he tilted my face up to his. I watched his lips curve bowlike into a smile. "Thank you for having me to supper."

I wanted to lean forward and kiss him, to feel his lips and find them as soft and welcoming as I imagined, but I knew it couldn't happen. Iolaus was a traveler And I a simple country girl with nothing to offer.

So I smiled and nodded and cast my eyes downward once again as I felt the warmth of his touch leave my cheek and the coolness of the room return to my soul. I heard my father clear his throat in impatience and my brothers shuffling uncertainly at my sudden change in status. My mother alone was silent and still. The room gradually came back into focus as Iolaus stepped away, accepting the blanket that my father thrust at him.

I watched as he turned, shooting me a smile over his shoulder and let himself out the heavy wooden door. The barn would be cold, but the hay was warm and the animals made some heat if the doors were closed. No wind would whip furtively across his limber body, howling like a woman scorned, nor dew rest unwanted on his weathered skin as long as he sheltered in our barn.

It was almost beyond my belief that he was here, only a scant way from my room, spending the night at our family farm.

"Ania," my father spoke sternly after Iolaus had left the house. "Don't get too attached to this traveler." His gray pebble black eyes stared hard and icy at me, at once gathering me in like a child and spitting me out like wad of used tobacco.

I felt myself shrink, becoming ten again, the age of unsure entrance into unwanted maturity, awkward and tongue tied and certainly less than graceful, noticing boys for something more than playmates and also seeing my father's stern reproval of my furtive below the belt glances at my male playmates.

"We still have Flatus's offer to consider," He warned, "and it is substantial, as he is in NEED at this very moment.

"No Father!" I cried out too quickly and too vehemently. I felt myself step back, my mother's hands reaching to steady my shoulders.

"Ania," my father warned. "It is my place to choose your husband, not yours."

"So that you can get a new plow?" I cried harshly. I leaned forward in righteous anger, feeling my mother's hand now restraining me.

"You think only of yourself," I shouted, hearing my voice cracking. "My happiness means nothing!" My breath seemed to be held prisoner in my chest, and the moth, caught there earlier, now pounded frantically against the door of my ribs, fearing that its last chance of escape into the light of freedom was slipping away.

"Ania," my mother spoke soothingly. "You know a woman's lot."

"No!" I whirled on her. "Not THIS woman's lot!" My hands were fists and my eyes filled with tears as I fought for even a little control.

"Ania!" my father spoke loudly and more than firmly. "You will do as I say!"

"No father," I answered, no longer trying to hide my pain. My eyes teared and my cheeks grew wet as I whirled on him. "Can't you see Iolaus has so much more to offer than Flatus?"

"Ah, but for whom?" my father called after me.

I turned and strode off to the room where I slept with my brothers, leaving everyone standing with mouths agape as I hastened my escape. My brothers dove away from the door as I entered, trying to fall back into their beds as if they had been sleeping, not listening.

"You didn't need to stand at the door," I hissed. "I was certainly loud enough for you to hear easily from your beds."

They turned their faces away, maintaining a wall of silence. I could see their bodies shifting infinitesimally, unable to relax, maintaining the posture of a lie.

"So he sold me," I spat out bitterly. "For what, the simple price of a new plow? A few pieces of silver and a tasty hog or a laying hen?" I paced between the two sets of bunks, feeling for the first time how powerful righteous anger could be, how quickly the unjust fell in obeisance when faced with truth. Perhaps the price my father paid was worth even more, simply for my own enlightenment.

"I'm NOT going!" I declared with finality as I reached for my cloak. "So you can all forget about your new plow, or animals or whatever else you collectively decided was my price. Flatus can just stay a widower, and if father doesn't like this, then I will gladly leave."

I turned on my heel, stopping briefly to listen at the door, but father and mother had already retired to their room, no doubt to chew over my response and how they could force me into marriage. I knew where I needed to go, and it wasn't here.

**

The barn was indeed warm and I felt a little bad about opening the door and letting the cool of the night in. But I got over it quickly. Iolaus poked his head over the loft at the sound of the door being flung so rudely open, and peered down, still wide awake and fully clothed.

"Ania?" he called out, not even attempting to hide the puzzlement in his voice.

I looked up at the sound of his voice and saw that he was no where near sleep, still alert and watchful.

"Iolaus," I spoke softly. The barn was still except for the soft swishing of the lone cow's tail. All the chickens were roosting and the hogs were sleeping together at the front of the barn as tightly packed as bacon slices.

I'm not going to cry, I told myself. I'm not weak. If I have to make it on my own I will find a way. I will wait tables. I will scrub floors. I will tend shop. But I will not marry Flatus. I didn't speak; instead I headed directly for the ladder to the loft. No matter that my cloak was heavy and my dress billowed, I climbed with agility and in seconds plopped myself down next to a puzzled Iolaus.

"He sold you?" Iolaus asked almost more as a statement than a question.

"To Flatus. For the price of a new plow." I was determined not to cry, fought it with every fiber of my being, but I could feel my eyes reddening and blurring as I fought back my tears of pain.

"You are worth so much more than that," he affirmed as he reached for my shoulders, placing his hands on them and holding me back at a distance so we could see eye to eye.

I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling and cast my eyes down, away from the intensity of Iolaus's azure stare. I focused on the heat his hands generated as they rested on my shoulders, the coarseness of the palms, crisscrossed with calluses and scars. I could feel his strength and imagined it flowing into me, from his heart, across his chest, down his arms and into my shoulders, flowing finally and heatedly to my own heart.

"I can't let you go," he breathed out softly. "I'll talk to your father," he vowed. "We'll find a way to stop it."

I shook my head, although I thought if anyone could talk my father out of this plan it would be Iolaus. He was so convincing, so honest. He would find a way. But I wanted so much to do this on my own.

"I'm going to tell him that I refuse to marry Flatus, and if he insists, I'll run away."

"Ania," he warned, it's not as simple as that. You have no one to protect you and how would you get away? On foot? Don't you think your father would send your brothers, or even Flatus, after you on horseback?" He took a hand off my shoulder and I felt the small fingers touch my chin, lifting my face so we could look at each other.

"You'd end up back here, and disgraced at that. You're too fine a woman to have to suffer the ridicule of others.

"Iolaus," I let the tears start to slide from the corners of my eyes finally. "I'm used to ridicule."

"Oh Ania," he whispered sadly and I lifted my face and stared defiantly into his.

He drew me close now and I let my head drop against his shoulder, wanting to get close but afraid to do so. His fine soft shirt was getting wet from my tears, but I didn't move away. I let him hold me and stroke his fingers through my hair as I tried to pull my self together.

"Shhh," he kept saying, his cheek leaning against the top of my head.

"I won't go to Flatus!" I spoke it against his chest, feeling the solid, steady beating of his heart against my hand resting there.

"No Ania, you won't." He stopped stroking my hair and I felt him reach for my face, turning it across to his again. "I'll think of something. You have to trust me."

I could see the sincerity on his face and knew that he was no simple traveler, but a man who could be relied on.

"I do trust you," I answered and I knew he could see that I believed him, because he gave me a small smile, letting the weathered creases at the corners of his eyes show.

"Good," he answered. "But it won't help your cause if your parents find you up here with me."

He was right, but still I didn't want to leave. I felt so safe, so wanted, empowered by this man. No wonder Hercules wanted to spend so much time with him! But if it meant being free from the prospect of bearing yet another Flatus child I would do as he asked.

I nodded and he released me. My shoulders felt cold without his touch and suddenly I was more aware of the sounds of the barn around me. The roof creaked as the wind picked up and the door was a little loose, catching and softly falling back with the heavier gusts. The hay crunched softly as our milk cow shifted and a pig grunted softly in its sleep. In the far corner of the barn, out of sight, I heard the soft bleating of one of the newborn kids and the heavy step of its mother as she rose to feed it.

The barn was far more peaceful than my parent's house, I realized. Iolaus was lucky to be here, away from the tyranny and oppression of my father's rule, and the impotence of my mother.

"Thank you," I said simply as I stood to leave.

He rose also and this time stepped closer. I stood still and let him approach feeling a little like a wary doe caught in the sunlight, and wanting what I only dared to hope he would offer.

And he did. As he slipped a hand onto the back of my neck I leaned forward, tipping my face up and he turned down toward me, eyes still open with a new softness shining in them. I can't even describe the peace and oneness I felt, but it seemed to me that at that one instant the Fates wove our threads together. For when his lips met mine ever so softly I felt as if I had been released from all troubles and burdens, that the moth had changed by the power of love into a butterfly, and was by the union of our kiss, set free.

It ended too quickly and I turned, knowing that another kiss would lead where I dare not hope to go so soon. I turned and without speaking silently descended the ladder from the loft to the main floor of the old barn.

"Sleep well, Iolaus," I spoke softly as I opened the door.

"Good night Ania," he called back as he stood high above me, arms crossed over his chest.

**

The next morning I rose early, not even waiting for my parents to awaken and taking all that was left of the feta, herbs and early peas I left alone for the market. I didn't want to be there when Iolaus approached my father, who would then stubbornly refuse to listen. I would prove myself useful and again bring home some money. I would sell all I had brought with me and if I was fortunate, I'd see Iolaus again and find out his plan.

My mind soared as I walked, one minute thinking about Iolaus and THE KISS, the next crashing down with thoughts of Flatus. My pack was heavy but I barely felt it, so determined was I to prove myself worthy of more than Flatus. Where once I cried and feigned illness to get out of going to market, now I relished the freedom it afforded me. I was still no haggler, but each day I came home with just a bit more money.

I was first this day to set up my booth, waiting eagerly for my first customer. I wanted to free my mind of my troubles, fears and inadequacies. I would not follow in my mother's footsteps, blindly accepting whatever man was handed to her, following his commands, accepting and yielding to his desires, whether they were just or unjust.

In these last few days Iolaus had showed me that a man could treat a woman with respect and kindness. That I had value. That I was capable of learning, given a proper teacher. And most importantly, that I had choices. Even if our relationship never went any further, I would always be thankful to him for this. Somehow though, I suspected that his feelings for me were as strong as my feelings for him.

And so the day wore on. My produce sold steadily and by the time the sun had barely slipped over its zenith, I was almost sold out. Still, I had seen nothing of Iolaus. This left me with a dilemma. If I sold everything I would have to take down my booth, would he then be able to find me? Should I head home or search among the other booths, though I had no money of my own? I decided that there was only one thing to do---raise my prices, and then I would be assured of keeping my booth open until the sun dipped lower, or I would go home with a heavy money sack.

And so it was that I found myself packing up a heavy money sack and folding my cloak sooner than I anticipated. I worked slowly now, scanning the area for signs of Iolaus. And just when I had given up hope, flung the cloak over my shoulders and started on the road to home he came trotting up behind me.

"Ania!" he called and I whirled around unable to suppress a smile at the sound of his voice.

"Iolaus!" I let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you'd never come."

"I had a few things to do," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

I raised my eyebrows and kept my thoughts to myself.

Iolaus chuckled, hanging his head and shaking it slowly from side to side. "You know Ania, you are one of a kind."

He had no idea of the truth of those words, and never had I felt that my uniqueness was acceptable. But Iolaus looked on me with such kindness and understanding that I found myself confessing.

"In so many ways," I laughed. "Did you know that animals hate me?"

"No," he responded uncertainly.

I nodded. "And plants wilt when I touch them."

He stared at me wide eyed. Don't tell me, you can't cook---"

I shook my head sadly. "But I DO try," I added earnestly. "And I don't sew very well either, I'm sorry to admit."

Iolaus turned to me with a half grin. "So maybe you wouldn't make a great wife for old Flatus." He scratched his head. Do you know anyone who, uh, maybe you don't care so much for, who can cook, garden and is good with animals? I might be able to plant an idea is Flatus' head. Perhaps you are worth less than he originally offered. Maybe someone else is worth more."

Not even good enough for old Flatus! I'd felt pretty bad about myself at times in the past, but this was a new low, even for me. Suddenly all the old insecurities rushed back, collecting in my stomach like a squirming mass like mealworms in a flour sack. Maybe I'd told Iolaus too much. My mother always said I shouldn't let anyone know about the plants and animals and my general lack of wifely skills.

I'd let myself get too comfortable with Iolaus, and now I'd pay the price. Surely he must have wondered why no other men were around me, and why my father was rushing to marry me off. I would make a lousy wife; my brothers wouldn't even try to fix up their friends with me. And now Iolaus knew why. I wasn't even good enough for Flatus!

I stopped dead in my tracks, suddenly wanting to vomit the small meal I'd choked down at noon. My hand flew to my mouth and I turned my face away.

"Ania, what's wrong?" he asked with concern. He stood still now and then I heard his footsteps and felt his body close to mine. He put a comforting arm around my trembling shoulders.

I couldn't answer. If I did it would simply validate all the ugly insecurities that struggled to control me. And so I held my tongue and shook my head, keeping my back to him.

"Did I say something wrong?" He was turning me around, wanting to see my face even as I slipped my hands over it.

"Ania," he spoke soothingly. I don't want you to be married to Flatus. I'll do what ever it takes to help you. I'm not going to walk out on you now.

I leaned into him, feeling the strength in his arms, the muscles of his chest. If I could stay like this forever I would. I truly wanted to believe him that he would, no could, help me. I turned my face up to his and stared silently into his eyes, trying to read his heart.

"Ania, I was late coming to market today because I've decided to stay in town for a while. I needed to make arrangements for a place to stay, a way to earn money."

His face was serious. I could barely believe what he was saying. "But what about Hercules?" I asked with trepidation. "Surely you need to be with him. You two are legends."

Iolaus laughed; such a pure and happy sound! "Legends!" He shook his head in amusement. "We're just a couple of guys who go travel around helping people. And Hercules is busy with one of the twelve labors. When he's done he'll find me. He always does. So I'm on my own for a while."

He was drawing me closer, his face getting nearer to mine.

"And I want to spend time with you."

And then it happened. Iolaus pulled me so close I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Though his arms were wrapped insistently around me there was gentleness there, and I didn't fear him. I leaned into him even closer and met his lips with my own.

For such a firm man his lips were incredibly soft. One of his hands slipped up, tangling in my hair and he tilted my head at such an angle that our lips fit together perfectly. And suddenly I knew I wasn't the useless girl my brothers would have me believe. I could do anything for this man. Oh it might take time, but I WOULD do anything it took to make him happy.

And then the kiss was over, not so long that either of us was uncomfortable or out of control, yet not so short that the point he wanted to make was lost.

"You are too good for Flatus," he declared with finality.

Part of me wanted to weep tears of joy at the words, yet a bigger part wanted to dance in joyous circles. Instead I reached my hand up to his cheek and stroked it, smiling broadly and answered.

"I'm so glad you're staying."

"Me too," He smiled back, not letting go of my shoulders. "Can I walk you home?"

"I'd be honored."

So we walked slowly back to my home, wandering along the wooded path out of town. This time he didn't stay for supper when we got there though. Instead, he opened the door for me and turned to leave.

"Iolaus, thank you!" I called to him. He turned back and a huge smile split his handsome face.

"Stop by the town forge tomorrow when you get through at the market," he called. I'm helping the smith there with some orders." His eyes twinkled. "Your father said I could take you for supper at the Tavern if I walk you home afterwards."

**

Supper that night was mostly silent. My father sat across from my mother and when he wasn't chewing on the stew she had made from Iolaus's boar he stared with stone hard eyes across at me, as if calculating my worth. I could almost hear his mind clicking like beads on an abacas at the hands of an accountant. He chewed silently and deliberately, and I felt like dying prey under the eye of a vulture.

My brothers sat silently as well, eating quickly. It wasn't often we had such a fine supper as boar stew, as they weren't even remotely the hunters that Iolaus was. In fact there were times when many days elapsed before a meal actually contained meat, unless we slaughtered a chicken or a lamb. But in general, we needed out animals. Eggs sold well, and the wool from the sheep would be spun into yarn and thread, all of which sold well. So Father and mother rarely sacrificed one of our own animals.

I tried not to look around, as I seemed to be the one thing that everyone wanted to focus on, yet ignore at the same time. So instead I listened to the slurp of mouths on spoons, my father's wet chewing and my mother's restless shifting in her seat while she hardly touched a drop of her meal. Nothing was spoken of Flatus or his offer. Indeed, my parents had been pleasantly surprised to feel the weight of the money bag I brought home to them, and from their expressions I could see that I would be sent to market once again tomorrow.

I excused myself as soon as I was done and retired to my sleeping area, knowing that I'd be up early to get a start on the trip to market. I settled myself in, after stripping to my under dress, and closed my eyes, wanting to dwell on Iolaus and how good I felt when I was with him. But I couldn't. The soft voices of my parents and brothers drew my mind away from him, and closer to the reality of the last few days.

"He says he'll make me a new plow if I tell Flatus, that Anya is not for sale at this time." My fathers voice was hushed, low and rumbling like distant thunder.

"He can do that?" One of my brothers asked wondrously.

"I've heard he apprenticed as a smithy, and kept the centaurs at the Academy in shoes as payment for his tuition," Another brother whispered. "So he knows his way around a forge."

"Sure he's working at the town forge for now, but what if he doesn't deliver and Flatus finds someone else?" another brother whispered.

"Then we're stuck," the oldest of my brothers whispered back. "And we'll support her for the rest of our lives."

"NO!" I thought to myself. "You will never support me." I pulled the rough blanket over my head and curled into a small tight ball, wanting to simply disappear. "And Iolaus won't disappoint me." I lay alone in the dark, trying to block their voices out of my head as I thought of Iolaus's consoling arms and concerned eyes. "And I will kill myself before I become Flatus's wife."

My mother's voice was soft and concerned. "He seems to be an honest and genuine fellow, and his reputation is well--- good enough to be spoken of in the same sentence with Hercules."

"There's a lot at stake here," my father growled. "Flatus will buy another wife pretty quickly if we turn him down. And what if this Iolaus doesn't want her after all?"

Quiet surrounded me and I could feel the heaviness of the room pushing down at me, the darkness swallowing me like one of the monsters that Iolaus had fought. In the next room the creak of a chair being pushed back cut through the night, and my father's heavy steps shuffled across the floor.

"What if he doesn't come through with the plow and we've already told Flatus to find another wife?"

I could hear him smack his lips and make a tight sucking sound, the one that meant he was making a tough decision. I could picture him shaking his head and staring down at the floor as he rubbed his chin with the palm of his right hand.

I felt paralyzed, like a small child who has done wrong and gone off to hide in the closet and hears her parent's footsteps. I lay under the coarse weave of the blanket and held my breath, knowing my fate was in my father's hand. Whatever he said would dictate my next move. My room was a small tight box, and my fears confined me there.

I heard another chair scratch at the floor, and my mother's soft footsteps joined my fathers.

"My husband," she spoke louder as if she knew I was listening. "He seems like a good man. He has been a gentleman, and a good guest. And he is loved by Hercules, what better testament can there be to a man's character?"

"A good point," my father conceded. "I will tell Flatus that I want to take some time to consider his offer, say a week or so."

"And if he wants her immediately?" my mother queried as if she could read my thoughts.

"That could be a problem," my father murmured. "But I will try to put him off."

"So there is a heart in there," my mother laughed softly. "Let's sit outside for a while and enjoy the night's coolness and the stars before we sleep."

I listened as the door slapped shut and my brothers filed into the room, kicking off their boots and laying in their beds, shifting on the straw stuffed mattresses.

I thought of Iolaus, of the warmth and coziness of the barn, of the soft lowing of the cow and grunt of the pigs as they settled in to sleep and thought it far preferable to being in this room with my brothers. But never the less I lay still and covered and pretended to sleep. I wouldn't be here forever. I would be no ones burden. And I prayed to the Goddess Aphrodite that Iolaus wouldn't let me down.

***

Iolaus took me to the Tavern the next night, just as he promised.  He arrived at the market square as the sun was setting in the sky.  I had long sold my wares, and having raised the price to stay in business longer, again had a heavy money sack with which to please my parents.

"Ania?"  I could hear the puzzlement in his voice as he saw me sitting next to the well, on a large flat stone, just surveying the merchants as they packed up their unsold goods and readied for their long treks home.

"I thought you were going to come to the forge if you finished early?"

I smiled up at him and saw the concern on his face.  The setting sun cast a reddish glint to the stray curls that stuck out of his leonine mane.  He had a half smile on his face and his head was cocked to one side like dog trying to decide what to do with mouse.

"I didn't finish long ago," I explained.  "I figured you'd be cleaning up."  I shrugged my shoulders.

He dropped down onto the flat rock next to me.  "So you weren't avoiding me?" He teased, but I could hear a hint of concern in his voice.

I looked down and scuffed my feet against the hard packed dirt.  Not avoiding, I thought, but testing perhaps.  Never in my life had someone as wonderful as Iolaus appeared, and really cared for me, and in truth, I was afraid that this was simply a joke of the Fates or the toying of a bored God who could just as quickly end this enticing relationship.  And so I had held back enough of myself so that if Iolaus simply left I wouldn't crumble, at least not outwardly.

"Ania?"  I felt him edge over closer and his shoulder touched mine.   "What's going through your head right now?"
I sighed heavily.  This moment had been weighing on me all day.  If I laid open my heart now would it be crushed or bloom?  If I didn't reveal my feelings would there be a better time?  Sure, I'd had boys give me more than a cursory glance, but these weren't the kind who I would have seen myself spending a life time with.  Iolaus was, however, and that he'd come into my life at such a perfect time seem almost unreal.  Well, the chance had to be taken.  If he was the one, then what I had to say wouldn't matter.  But if he was simply another of the lookers, he'd be gone before the night was done, never to be seen again.

I turned my face up to his, meeting his sea blue eyes with my own deep brown ones. 

"Iolaus, I think you're too good to be true."

He didn't flinch, his eyes never moved from mine.  I waited in steely determination for the verdict under his scrutiny. 

But instead of pulling back or laughing at me he leaned forward and gathered me in his arms, pulling me close to his chest.

"Oh Ania."  His voice was steady and quiet. I heard no sighs or clicks of the tongue.  I felt instead his arms tighten around me even more and his lips rest against my hair.  "I'm glad to hear that."  His lips were warm against my head.  "But Hercules says that too."

I looked up and saw the twinkle in his eyes.  "I only hope you don't do this with him," I answered slyly."

He pulled back in mock surprise, widening his eyes as I stared up at his sincere face. 

"Ania," he laughed down at me with a wry shake of his head.  "You're a gem.  I only hope I'm worthy of your attention."

"Worthy?"  I couldn't keep the shock from my voice.  "Iolaus, I told you I can't cook or sew or plant or work with animals"

"Yet," he whispered back.  "And even if you never can, just looking on your honest face, and seeing your kindness, and knowing you cared about me before you even knew about Hercules would endear you to me forever."  Iolaus smiled, I could feel the arc of his lips against my hair.  "And Ania, you trusted me without even knowing me.  And I could see your hurt cloaked about you like an old garment, held tight to keep out more cold."

His arms were warm around me, and his words were spoken truthfully. 

"Ah but Iolaus, you weren't cold.  In fact you were so warm I felt no need for the old garment any longer."

Iolaus laughed, a quiet and satisfied sound, and then he pulled away.

"Ania, we'd better get to the tavern.  I told your father I'd get you home before he goes to bed."

"Iolaus," I protested, "That's so early!"

"It's the price I paid to take you out tonight.  And let me tell you, you don't come cheap."

I only hope I'm worth it, I thought.  He truly knows so little about me.

**

The tavern was as dark as I'd remembered it the few times I'd been here to drag my father home on his occasional binges.  My father wasn't a drinker, but when crops failed and hunting was poor and he worried about his family, he went here for support.  All the men did, and most drank too much at times when saving dinars was most important.  But I guess ale makes a person forget that. 

The Tavern's candles weren't placed to shed light into dark corners and the only windows were small and located in the front.  Long bench-like tables were crowded around at the front of the dining room, a long bar was at the back.  Along the sides were some smaller tables, more secluded.  I assumed this was where people met to do business.  The room smelled of sweat and ale, and roasted meats and the noise level was high.  Men's voices rumbled and a few women's lifted in cadence, while somewhere in the dim light a lyre was being played.  The smoke of the candles swirled, brought low by the heaviness of the air, lending a dream like atmosphere to the place.

Iolaus seemed right at home.  While I stood uncertainly, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward one of the smaller tables that was as yet unclaimed.  Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out my chair and tucked it in as I sat.   We'd no sooner settled when a bar maid appeared, dashing over at the sight of Iolaus.

"Iolaus," she cooed.  "I was hoping you'd come around here again."  She leaned over him, ignoring me and letting her partially exposed breasts dangle heavily over the table at a level which could take man's eyes out if they swung too fast.

"You should have known I'd be back, the food here is great, better than my own cooking," he laughed, meeting her eyes and keeping his stare there, thankfully.

"At your service," she whispered to him as she leaned closer still, studiously ignoring me.

Iolaus didn't look uncomfortable.  On the contrary he seemed to be completely in control.  "Eleani, could you get Ania and me a candle?" he asked with a patient smile.

She provocatively smiled back and her eyes curved down his chest and lower before returning to his face.  "Anything you want Iolaus."  She turned and walked slowly and deliberately back to the bar, her hips swaying in invitation before speaking with the tavern keeper for minute.

I turned to Iolaus.  "You know her?"

Iolaus kept my eyes on his.  "Yes, for years. I grew up not far from here.  She's been around here for a long time.  And this isn't the first time I've dined here."  He smiled patiently at me.

"Of course not," I answered flustered.  I hadn't thought to ask about where he'd grown up, what his life was like, if he had a trade.  I'd been so worried about Flatus and so consumed by his attention that I'd forgotten about HIM.

Eleani returned with the candle and carefully lit it for him.  Never moving her eyes from him she recited, "Tonight's meals are boar stew, roast venison, and chicken soup.  All with bread of course and the vegetable of the day is carrots."  She beamed a smile on Iolaus but ignored me.  "What would you like to order?"

"Ania," he smiled my way.  "You order first.  Anything you like?"

I stared at Eleani as she turned her face reluctantly toward me. 

"Roast venison sounds fine," I ordered staring coolly at her.

"And you, Iolaus?"  She turned away, leaving her unsmiling face with me and bestowing Iolaus with her best come hither stare.

"Venison works for me," he answered.  He gave her a neutral half grin, but his eyes stayed on me and he stretched a hand across the rough table top, snagging my hand with his.

I watched Eleani as her smile faded and almost felt sorry for her.  Being a serving wench wasn't an easy job, and in a way I could see where someone like Iolaus could represent escape.  But Eleani's lot was her choosing, or at least it seemed that way to me.  And for the moment, Iolaus's attention was mine.

He waited until she was gone and we were relatively alone to speak.  Now he held both my hands in his, and I marveled at the feel of them, so strong and calloused, a mark from a bowstring, a few burns.  These were hands not afraid of work, of war.  And yet his face was sincere and kind, not your typical laborer or soldier, someone above that.  Suddenly I knew that I was with a person far more than a notch above the average villager.  And I felt so very small.

"I have plan," Iolaus whispered excitedly.  "Your father has agreed to put off Flatus for a month or two while I make a plow for him at the forge."

"Iolaus!" I gasped.

"No, no, it's not a problem.  I could make it much faster than that, I just wanted to buy us some time so I could put plan two into effect."

"Plan two?"  It was hard to keep the wonder out of my voice.

"Yeah.  That's where I convince Flatus to withdraw his offer and find someone else."  He was grinning widely at me.  "But I need to be subtle.  He seems like the kind of guy who needs to believe that something was his own idea."

"That could very well be," I agreed, still stunned.   "How do you plan to do that?"

"That's where you come in," he grinned.  "Can you show me where he lives on the way home?  And tell me where he hangs out, I can run into him other too."

And so I did.  Over roasted venison, bread, fresh carrots and the finest company I'd ever kept, I told Iolaus everything I knew about Flatus.   Eleani worked the tables giving me the evil eye until I no longer noticed her.  Iolaus kept me entertained with stories of his travels with Hercules, his youthful life and changed heart, until the evening had flown by and the venison had been completely consumed.  Never had a night seemed so short or the tavern seemed such a welcoming place as it did that night.

So it was that when he asked for the bill and paid it, that I felt a stab of despair at the reality of leaving and returning to my home.  I wanted this night to never end.

He held my hand as we walked down the wooded path and I found myself chatting idly about my childhood, about the dreams that had never come true, about my family's expectations for me and the lot of women in modern Greek society as he listened patiently and paced the road watchfully, one hand at his sword and the other holding mine.

The trip to our modest house seemed much shorter than it ever had before and I truly regretted seeing the lamp on the step waiting for my arrival.  My hand was so warm in his and my heart so light that the thought of letting him go and stepping over the threshold to the cool reception that waited caused a shudder to slither eel-like through me.  A good part of me was getting much too used to Iolaus's company.  But that small part deep in the core of my being warned that I wanted too much too soon.  I ignored the small part.

"Iolaus, thank you," I said with a warm smile as I reached for the door handle.

He stopped me.  "Will your parents be looking?"

"Yes," I answered honestly.  "And most likely my brothers as well."

He grinned ear to ear.  "I was hoping for that.  Ania, you're incredible,"  he said loud enough for them to hear inside the house as he pulled me into his arms before he tucked me against his chest and embraced me. 

Iolaus didn't seem remotely deterred by the possibility that he had an audience.  His arms wrapped around me as if we were alone and his face tipped toward mine so slowly and tenderly that no one, even me, could mistake that his intentions were pure.  His kiss was not lecherous or even passionate to the degree that would cause my father to come racing out the door, but more tender and caring and enduring than any kiss I had ever been subject to before.  My heart raced and I wanted to lean into him, answer him with my own feelings, but this was neither the time nor the place.

"Ania," he whispered as we broke apart.  "You will not be Flatus's bride, I promise." 

I nodded, keeping his cerulean gaze on my own dark eyes and wishing for this moment would never end.

"Thank you," was all I could say, although I wanted to tell him so much more.

He reached around me and opened the door wide, meeting my father's stern gaze with a gentle half smile.  He gave my father a nod.

"Good night, Ania" he spoke softly.

"Good night, Iolaus," I answered feeling as if I was stepping over the threshold between dream and reality as my father pulled me into the house by my arm.  My father nodded at Iolaus and closed the door, leaving Iolaus to make his way back to where ever he slept in the dark of the night as he drew me determinedly into the reality that was my life as a simple farmer's daughter.

I pulled away from my father's grasp and pressed my face to the window.  As I watched him walk jauntily back to town, I suddenly realized that I hadn't asked where he was staying or whether he needed anything.  And as my father grabbed my arm once more and steered me away I knew that my heart was marching up the path with Iolaus, though my body was being pulled into this prison which my parents called home.  My life had been forever changed by this glorious golden hunter and friend of Hercules.

**

It was almost a week before I was allowed to go back into town.  Honestly, my parents had run out of things to sell, it takes time to make cheese and plants don't grow to market size overnight.  So I whiled away the week unsuccessfully trying to hone my cooking skills and doing a bit better with the sewing.  I had long ago been banned from the garden and the barn, as I seemed to have a detrimental effect on all living things, except as yet, Iolaus. 

My father kept a wary eye on me, as if I would be running away (which I might have if Iolaus hadn't been so reassuring) and my brothers were unusually quiet, teasing far less than usual.  My mother seemed keen to try and help me learn my skills, but even she grew tired of my ineptitude.  So a long week seemed even longer.

On the sixth day of my relative confinement, Flatus came to our door.  I didn't even need to be in the room, I could smell him from the kitchen, ripe with manure and the faint odor of steely blood from a fairly recent slaughter.  It was evening and my father answered the door, so I stayed in the back of our small house, easily able to hear he conversation.

"I don't like your new terms," Flatus complained.

My father coughed uncertainly.  I knew his eyes would be on the floor.

"I'm already offering a hefty dowry for her, and now you raise it?"  Flatus snorted.  "But suddenly I hear in town that Ania can neither cook nor sew, and that she is bad with plants and animals."

"Where'd you hear that?" my father demanded, an edge of panic in his voice.

Hah!"  Flatus coughed out derisively.  "That bar maid at the tavern, Eleani.  There's nothing and no one she don't know."

I could almost see him nodding his head.  His matted hair would be bobbing in long knots and brushing against his shoulders.  His mouth would be twisted up in that half sneer I'd seen on his face so many times before.

I could almost smell my father's sweat as he answered.

"The price stands, Flatus."

"Yes!" I wanted to cry out, but instead busied myself with the after meal chores.

"Fine, but I don't like the time frame," Flatus complained.  "I have kids that need caring for and I can't work my fields if I have to take the time to do them.  I've hired a local woman, but it won't be long before she bleeds me dry.  I need this deal done soon."

My father was silent, and I held my breath as my heart beat faster than a hummingbird's wings.

Flatus couldn't wait.

"I'll double my price."

I heard the sharp intake of breath and knew it was my father's.  The humming bird's wings stilled and I slumped to the floor, knowing the answer before my father even spoke it.

"I'll let you know in a week."

**

"Ania!" my father bellowed as soon as Flatus had slammed the door behind himself, knowing I could hear everything that was said.

I didn't answer right away, couldn't.  My mind was whirling.  Iolaus had planted the seeds but they had germinated too quickly.  We had underestimated both Flatus's need and persistence.  One week!

In one week I would be Flatus's bride, unless Iolaus could pull a rabbit out of a hat.  In one week all my new found dreams would be shattered.  In one week I could be living on the other side of town, with a family of sniveling little Flatus's and a husband who saw me as nothing more than a servant, or a whore or both.  I would be nothing more than another of Flatus' short lived wives, a woman with no goal other than survival.

Until recently I'd never visualized myself as this.  Surely I'd never thought I'd be the wife of a man such as Iolaus, but certainly I'd hoped for at least a peaceful coexistence if not a small amount of respect from the man I married.  With Flatus there would be none of that. 

I walked slowly out to the main room.

"Father."

He spoke slowly and deliberately as he stared me coolly in the eyes.  "Your Iolaus only has a week."  

**

Market day could not come soon enough.  I loaded my pack and my baskets with eggs, cheese and fresh herbs and left at first light for market.   I practically ran up the path, and though the walk was not a short one, I was first in the square that day.  I didn't take the best spot, wanting to stay in business as long as possible.  I busied myself with preparing my stall and to any outsider I appeared single minded in my business.  But inside I thought only of Iolaus, well Flatus too to be honest, but only in the context of Iolaus. 

Would I see him today?  Was he at the smiths working?  Why hadn't I heard from him all week?  My heart pounded.  Maybe he was with someone else.  Maybe Hercules had come back and Iolaus needed to leave with his friend, an emergency- - - they handled those things.  My mind rolled over faster than a log in the rapids, and I felt like the logger trying to stay on it.

I was so busy ruminating that I almost missed him. 

The sun was barely slipping over the horizon and the dew was still a fine sheen on the grass as Iolaus hurried through town and toward the smith's shop.  His steps were quick and sure, his direction not from the inn.  Was he staying with Eleani, I wondered with a pang of jealousy?  There were so many things I still didn't know about him, so many things I wanted to know.

"Iolaus!" I called    and watched as his head swiveled alertly in my direction.

"Ania!" 

I could see his smile from across the square.  He turned and trotted over to me. 

I stood, hands at my side, not sure what to do or even what to think.  The week had been so long, and so much had happened.  I suspect that I might even have been trembling I felt so anxious.

But when Iolaus came closer and wrapped his arms around me I knew that he wouldn't let me down.  He was so open, so honest, so self assured and unassuming, how could I ever have doubted him?

"Iolaus," I breathed in relief as I pressed my cheek to his shoulder for a second and then stepped back. 

He held me at arms length as he stared at me with curious assessment in his eyes. 

"What's the matter Ania?"

"It's worse than you could think, Iolaus," I sighed and let my hands drop from his forearms limply to my sides.  "Flatus has upped the dowry, and given my father one week to hand me over!"  I bit my lip to keep from crying.  My cheese sat half unpacked on the tippy table I had set haphazardly at the back of my stall. 

"And I think my father will comply."  My voice was soft as I struggled for control.

"One week," Iolaus mused.  He took a hand off my shoulder and rubbed a day's growth of beard with the palm of his hand.  "Could be worse," he mused.  "I've had tighter deadlines than that, but I'm not sure they were as scary as your father."  His eyes twinkled and a corner of his mouth turned up in mirth, but as he saw me still upset his face became more contemplative.

He sighed heavily and drew my eyes to his own.  "Ania, I have to get to work.  I need to keep this job if I want to get you out of this mess.  Can you come to the smiths when you're done here?"

"What if it's early?" I whispered.

"Anytime," he smiled.  "You may have to wait a bit to talk with me, but we WILL get to discuss this."   He nodded reassuringly.  "And we will get a plan.  I want to walk you home again."  He grinned, and I knew he intended to talk with my father.

"Okay." I agreed.  I knew where the forge was, and although I was loathe to go where men alone congregated, today would by necessity be an exception.  My life was at stake.

Iolaus gave me short kiss, light and inviting, but not drawing me into the embrace that I desired.

"Got to go," he said solemnly.  "But I'll be looking forward to seeing you at the forge."  He gave me a sly half smile and drew away.

I waved as he trotted off, most likely already late because of me, and turned back to my baskets and packs.  A heavy money sack wouldn't hurt my case against Flatus' offer

** 

The forge was located at the edge of town, so that it was accessible to all, especially the farmers, who would need horses shod, bits made, tools repaired.  Since most people came to town weekly, they could drop off their broken metal pieces or leave an order, then check back when returning home.  The smith was old and well known to the townspeople as having slowed down quite a bit in recent years, but he had no apprentice and no one else in town knew the trade, so his business was still good, albeit not exactly timely.

I'd listened carefully today, and heard many times about the handsome new man working with the smith, how fast and strong he was, how friendly and how talented he was, and I couldn't help but smile.  Iolaus, friend of Hercules, was making quite a stir.

So it was that I approached with both trepidation and anticipation.  I'd sold out early again, as no one else was offering cheese this day, and my father's herbs were the freshest.  Mother had baked extra loaves of bread and those sold well to the men, so the sun was half down when I approached the heavy wooden doors of the forge. 

I stood silently, watching Iolaus through the heavy oak door frame as he stood leaning into the fire, shirtless but draped with a heavy leather apron that shielded his chest from the sparks.  He worked the bellows to produce a hot flame and was turning a hoe blade through the hot embers.  He pulled it out, glowing orange and grabbed a heavy flat headed hammer and pounded the heated edge until it had been drawn thin and sharp.  I watched his muscles swell as he raised the hammer, and struck blow after punishing blow to the hoe blade.

He examined the edge, taking a finger and quickly touching the cutting edge with a calloused finger, and then seeming satisfied, he plunged the blade into the water next to the forge burner.  A cloud of steam enveloped him, quickly dissipating and leaving his body moist and hair damp.  He stood silently examining the cool hoe, first visually, then by feel.  Satisfied, readying to place it where its owner could pick it up, he finally saw me.

A grin split his face.  He held up the hoe.  "What do you think?"

"Impressive," I answered honestly, but thought to myself that the man was far more impressive than the hoe.

"Yeah, well take a look at this," he nodded over to the far side of the forge.  I strained my eyes to see through the smoke and steam and could only make out a large amorphous shape.

"Ania," he grinned and grabbed my arm.  "Come in and take a look.  I'll keep you safe."

So I walked with him to the back of the forge, past the heat of the burning fire pit and over to where Iolaus gestured proudly.

"Iolaus!" was all I could manage to gasp out as I saw what he gestured toward.  There stood the finest plow my father could ever wish for.  It was sturdy, with heavy oak handles and tight metal etched with intricate horses bound the handles in place.  The rings for our work horse's traces to be attached to were made with a flexible joint which reduced the work load on both my father and the horse.  The metal of the blade itself gleamed, and I wondered if Iolaus had hand polished it.

"That's incredible!" I managed to say when I finally found my voice.  My father has never had anything like that.  No one here has," I added.  "It should have taken forever, but you've made this in what - - - a week?"

Iolaus nodded.  "Yeah," he said.  "The old smith let me stay on late at night and a few nights I slept here when it got really late.  But I did it on my own time and with materials I paid for or got myself," he added proudly, and rightly so.

"The design is different.  I've never seen a plow like this," I commented as I reached out to stoke the sleek sides.

"Yeah," he said dropping his head.  I thought it up myself.  See I'm not a farmer, but I know animals, so I tried design it so the horse could work more efficiently and get less tired."

It looks like you've done that,' I nodded.  "And the blade is so sharp."

"I thought it would cut through the soil better, turn away the rocks.  Your father isn't a young man anymore Ania.  I'll bet the jogging his shoulders and arms get are pretty bad now.  He's got to feel it when he rests at night.  See, I put these springs on the point where the handles attached to the plow blade and encased them in metal so they wouldn't get packed with dirt.  They should absorb a lot of the roughness."

I was stunned.  Iolaus had put so much thought and planning and work into this plow, not just for me, but for my father as well.  No wonder I hadn't seen or heard from him in a week!  I felt small and petty for thinking he might be off enjoying himself with Eleani, or someone else, but then I only knew men from my past experiences.  And Iolaus certainly was proving to be his own kind of man.

"My father will definitely like this," I asserted as I reached my arms around his sweaty neck and kissed his salty cheek.  I pulled back and grinned broadly.

Iolaus smiled back, not the happy go lucky smile I'd seen these past weeks but one that seemed to come from much deeper, carrying feelings that I'd only secretly dared to hope were there.  He kept his eyes on mine and held one of my hands with his own small, callused, but oh so talented hand.  It was moment that seemed to last forever.

Finally he released my hand.  "I, uh, have one more order to do.  It shouldn't take long though. It's only a repair.  You can wait out side if it's too hot in here," he offered.

Too hot?   I had the feeling that anywhere would be too hot for me right now, what with these thoughts ringing around in my head.  "Can I stay here and watch you?" I asked, unwilling to leave.

"Sure.  But don't get too close.  Sparks fly."

Yes Iolaus, I thought.  They sure do.

**

The evening flew by.  I asked all the questions I had been thinking this long week.  Where had he been staying? In the woods out side town, in a camp he'd built, near the creek where he could wash and clean his clothes.  He ate what he'd hunted and enjoyed the stars over head and the fresh cool breeze, the lullaby of the insects.  The night it rained, he stayed at the Inn, paying once again with freshly hunted meat.

I learned a bit about his childhood, his parents and about his favorite subject, his lifelong friendship with Hercules.

"I'm great with damsels in distress," Iolaus confided as we wandered slowly back to my father's house.  "Herc, he's a little bit better with the monsters, but only because he's a little bigger and had a little more practice."

I could hear an edge of pain Iolaus tried to keep out of his voice as he talked about his friend.

"So he's gone where?" I inquired, trying to keep the fear that Hercules would arrive and take Iolaus off somewhere out of my voice.

"Labors," he answered simply.  "It's been keeping him occupied for quite some time now."  His eyes remained cast down on the path.

"And you?"

"Oh I wait for him.  He'll be back and we'll adventure again.  It's some sort of rite of passage for him or something," Iolaus shrugged his shoulders making it seem like this was of little consequence to him, but couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice.

"I'm sure he misses you too," I tried to console him.  "And anyway, if you were off with Hercules right now I would have ended up Flatus's bride a week ago.  So maybe this is what the Gods have decreed."

Iolaus didn't look up.  "Hercules says that we mortals have a say in our own destinies, independent of the gods.  He says that's why the Gods try to manipulate us so.  They want us to believe we need them" 

"And what do you say?" I asked, thinking that he spoke rather boldly.

"I pretty much agree with Herc."

He paused here and took my hand in his, letting it swing as we walked.  I stared across at him, bearing my pack and looking up now at the sky, tracing the constellations with his eyes.

"Except for Aphrodite.  I think most people need her.  Oh not to set them up, don't get me wrong here, mostly to keep the magic in the relationship as time goes by." 

"So Aphrodite is for long term relationships," I mused.  "And have you ever made her an offering."

"I never needed to," he shot back at me in the dark.  "Wait, wait!  That came out all wrong!  I meant it like I never had a long term relationship, not like, um, um "

I stopped him.  "Quit while you're ahead," I warned.

We walked further in silence.  The tree leaves rustled overhead as a light breeze made them dance and sing.  The night bugs trilled and through the canopy of tree tops I caught the occasional glimpse of stars, shining like a diamond necklace across the sky.  Where I had left the house this morning in a worried rush, I now returned slowly and contentedly. 

Iolaus held my hand loosely, our arms swinging with our gait.  The woods gave way to a field, treeless and flowing with tall grasses gleaming silver in the light of the moon above.  This was near the edge of my father's property.  Soon we'd come upon the gardens and pastures where my father and brothers labored to make a living.  The night would once again end too quickly.

I stopped Iolaus here.  "Shhh!" I whispered.   We stood in silence and I felt the breeze ruffle through my hair, not enough to lift it as a gale would, but tender and caressing.  It carried on it the wonderful scent of the night flowers, the grasses crushed under our feet and from afar, the comforting scent of my father's animals.

Iolaus stood silently, as if he understood my need for the night to last just a few minutes longer.

"Will your father get mad if I kiss you good night?" he asked teasingly.

"Depends," I hesitated.

"On?"

"Whether he sees you or not."  I answered honestly.

"Then I'd better do it now," he said, his voice suddenly husky.

He didn't have to pull me; I came willingly into his arms and enjoyed every minute of that good night kiss.  I lost myself in the night, the cool of the air and the warmth of his heart, the feeling of his breath soft against my skin and the spicy scent of sandalwood that Iolaus seemed to naturally exude.

It seemed too little and ended too soon, but Iolaus was a gentleman.

"Ania," he breathed softly as he pulled slowly away.  "We need to get back to your house before your father goes to bed."

"He'll be up," I said simply, knowing that neither he nor my mother would rest until I was safely in the house.  I might be only a daughter, but I was worth a dowry they didn't want to lose.

"Well, I don't want him to be too tired or angry to talk rationally.  This is your best chance at freedom from Flatus."

I nodded, noting the seriousness that creased his face.

"And Ania," he added.  "You may need to speak up for yourself."

"But my father," I protested.

He shook his head as his fingers massaged my hands.  "No Ania, you can't be deterred.  "You will need to let your father know how you feel."

"But he DOES know!" I protested.  "Iolaus he doesn't care!" The words burst from me like a dam weakened beyond repair when storm waters swell.

"No, Ania," he shook his head.  "He just needs to see that you won't be home forever, that he will get his dowry, and that your happiness is important too.  So go with me on this."

I stood silently.

"I'm not sure I understand," I finally admitted.  What father would care for a daughter such as I for anything but a dowry?  He certainly couldn't hide my lack of skills, for there was only one reason a girl as old as I was wouldn't yet be married.

"Ania," he coaxed as he pulled me to himself once again.  "I've gone to a lot of trouble to see that our argument is well received tonight."

I thought of the beautiful plow, of all Iolaus's work, time, missed sleep and the effort he'd put into saving me from a fate worse than death.

"You don't know him, he won't listen," I warned, the fear rising like vomit in my throat.

"Not him, Ania but I do know people.  And he is a person," he chided gently.  "He wants the best for both of you."

"I'm a burden!" I blurted out the admission that had nagged at me for the last week.  "No one would want me besides Flatus!  I can't cook or sew.  Animals fear me, plants whither in my presence!  And by staying with him, I cost my father money.  Money to eat, money to clothe me.  Money which he won't recoup."  I stifled a sob.  I'd never intended to blurt all this out, but somehow Iolaus's reassuring words had freed my fears.

"It doesn't matter Ania.  You are a good person, with many worthy aspects if you only choose to see them."  He stared at me and under the light of the crescent moon and I could see his blue eyes blazing with emotion.  I reached out with my heart and mind embracing him as surely as I would with my arms and lips. 

"You ARE his daughter and he still loves you."

I wondered how he could say this, wondered how he knew about fatherly love given what he'd told me about his own father this very night.

"Ania please.  You need to trust me."  His eyes were intense, pulling me in.                    

"Okay," I nodded as I stared into his solemn eyes. 

"Ania, just do what's in your heart," he advised.

**

My parents were awake and waiting of course.  I entered with trepidation, not knocking, just walking right in with Iolaus in tow.   I stared across at my father's weary face and my mother's pretence at lack of concern as she busied herself with mending.  My brothers were engaged in a heated argument, which I took to be about me as they stopped suddenly, mouths gaping, when I entered.

"Sir," Iolaus addressed my father, shooting a sideway glance at my brothers, who immediately turned their faces away.  "Hope we're not too late for you."

My father raised a weary head and set his eyes on Iolaus, mouth a straight lipless slash in his pie shaped face. 

Iolaus squeezed my hand, probably feeling the tremor as I stood in judgment before my father.

My father simply raised his eyebrows and jutted out his chin.

Iolaus wasn't about to be deterred.   He stood before my father silently, never moving his eyes from father's own, letting the honesty shine out of his beautiful azure eyes.

The silence in the room was as total as I imagined death to be and I didn't want that now with Iolaus at my side.  I tossed my money bag, heavy with coins on the table in front of myfather.

"More than you'd hoped for," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral, but knowing that my family could see exactly now tense I really was.

Thank you, Ania," he intoned flatly.  "You may leave."

No," Iolaus spoke firmly, but without rancor.  "I want her to stay."

"She's my daughter," my father began, but Iolaus cut him off.

"But what we are about to say impacts her.  She has a right to know."

My father glared across at Iolaus and I wanted to wither up like a plant untended, but I felt him squeeze my hand, and I stood straighter.

"Are you saying I don't know what's right for my own daughter?"  My father's stare was icy.

"No, sir, I'm not," Iolaus responded earnestly.  "I'm saying that she's a grown woman now and capable of hearing what we have to say."

My father and brothers stared silently at Iolaus, hopefully realizing that he was twice the man any of them would ever be.

"No child would bring you back such a tidy sum of money each market day.  She's proven her value and found a job she does well.  She deserves to be treated like an adult."

I stared unwaveringly into my father's eyes, though at that moment I would rather have been staring into Iolaus's.  We needed a united front.  And if ever I wanted to be united it was with Iolaus.  I needed my father to see this.

"Very well," my father conceded, and my heart sang.  It was a small concession on my father's part, but a well calculated one on Iolaus's.

"Thank you," Iolaus answered, never taking his eyes from my father's.  I noticed how he stood tall and erect, feet slightly apart, the hand not holding mine hanging loosely at his side, at ease, yet at attention.

"Your plow is ready, ahead of schedule, and better than you specified, I dare say," Iolaus addressed my father, his voice strong but unthreatening.

My father's eyebrows rose.  "Better, you say?"

"Judge for yourself." Iolaus spoke simply.  "Bring your wagon around to the forge and I will load it myself.  I imagine those sons of yours can get together to take it off for you."

"Tomorrow it is."  His answer came out with a little grunt at the end, like the belch after a satisfying meal.   The room grew silent as my father and Iolaus faced each other unblinking.

"Which leaves us to discuss Ania," Iolaus ventured bravely. 

I could feel a tremble starting, like a child forcing herself not to cry, and tried to stop it.  I felt the tight squeeze of Iolaus's hand on mine and drew strength from it.  I wanted to stand tall, like him, not just figuratively, but mentally as well.

"So it does."  My father raised a hand to his mouth as if the very thought of me raised questions that were difficult to find the answers to.  "And what would you like to discuss?"

Iolaus didn't hesitate.  "I want to find out where your deal with Flatus stands."

My father sat silently, the only sign of his discomfort was the persistent tapping of his index finger on the hard dark wood of the table in front of him.

My mother chanced a glance to me, and then turned back to her sewing, the needle puncturing the woven cloth and the thread rising rhythmically.  She didn't miss a stitch.  My brothers sat transfixed.  No one stood up to my father.  Ever.

"You know the deal," my father glared across at Iolaus.

"I want you to say it.  Out loud, in front of Ania and your family.  They need to know where you stand."  There was no malice in Iolaus's voice, only reason and maybe challenge, although I did not as yet know why.

My father shifted in his chair, the first sign of weakness, and it left me feeling decidedly uncomfortable.  He cast his eyes downward, if only for a second then raised them back to Iolaus's face.  Never did he look at me, and I felt my heart sink.

"Say it."  This time Iolaus spoke with a firmness that I'd never heard in his voice before.

My father met Iolaus's eyes with a steely glare.  "The plow buys Ania two weeks.  Flatus may make me another offer at that time and I will consider it.'

I gasped, my free hand springing almost of its own accord to my mouth to hold back a cry.  I could feel Iolaus once again giving my hand a comforting squeeze.

"Father, no!" I whispered.  My legs felt weak, my hopes were flying away like migrating geese, moving like an arrow through Iolaus, through my father and beyond sight.

"I'm a man of my word, Ania," my father addressed me for the first time, finally casting his eyes in my direction.

"She will NOT be Flatus's bride," Iolaus spoke with undeniable conviction.

My father raised his eyebrows and snorted.  My mother missed a stitch and my brothers cast their eyes to the floor.

"Father!"  I choked out.  "I can't marry him!  Do I mean so little to you that you would want me dead?"

"Ania," my father chided.

"No!"  I cried out.  "Don't talk to me like a child!  You can't deny that all of Flatus's wives have dropped off like flies at first frost!"  I snorted.  "There's no warmth in that house, no nurturing."  I stared across at my father with fiery eyes.  "You are condemning me to my death!"

My mother gasped and dropped another stitch.  My brothers remained silent; brows raised and backs tight against the wall.  The air in the house seemed thick and heavy and I thought I would suffocate under the scrutiny of my father.

"That's enough Ania!" my father spoke tightly, barely concealed rage bubbling all too close to the surface.

"No father, I've simply begun!"  I found myself answering him back, in spite of the tightness in my chest, in spite of the ringing in my ears and rushing of my soul.  The time had come to speak or die.

"Enough!"  My father's voice was louder than I 'd heard it in years, and I could see the twitch starting at his right eye, the same one he got when the crops failed or my brothers didn't bring home enough meat after a hunting trip.

"Let her speak," Iolaus cajoled.  "Soon enough, if you have your way, she'll be gone and you'll hear her no more."

I felt a coldness take hold as I heard his words and from the look on my mother's face she felt it too.  I felt my body, as stiff as an old weathered branch, my breath coming in short spurts and my heart was pounding beneath my ribs.  I would have my say finally, and I hoped I wouldn't seem mean spirited or ungrateful when Iolaus heard me, but this might my only chance to let my father know how I felt before being sentenced to a short life as Flatus's wife.

My father had risen, his hands flat on the table and Iolaus now put a palm firmly but reassuringly on his shoulder.  "Sit, you can't discuss something rationally if you let your anger take hold."  He pressed on my father's shoulder and my father eased back into the chair.  My mother took up her sewing back up and tried to mend the errant stitch.  My brothers exhaled slowly as one and slumped down.

Iolaus pulled two chairs up to the table, and pushed one in as I sat down, then took his place next to me.

"I was always taught that ladies go before gentlemen," he began.  "And since I hear you've always been a gentleman," he eyed my father, "then Ania will go first."

I felt his leg press against mine under the table.

"Father," I began.  "I don't want to marry Flatus.  He's big and stinky and disrespectful to his wives."

"Is that true?" Iolaus prodded my father.

He shrugged.   "Big is true.  Stinky is, well, likely true, but most days I'm no flower when I get in from the farm work.  But I never saw him disrespect his wives."

"Okay," Iolaus slapped both hands on the table.  "Ania, have you seen him be disrespectful?"

She nodded vehemently.  "Oh yes!  I saw him slap his pregnant wife on the side of the head one day in the market because she paused to look at some cloth."

"No!" My mother exclaimed aghast and my father turned an icy stare at her.

My father shot her one of those withering glances meant to silence.  "Maybe he was disciplining her."  The excuse sounded weak, but Iolaus went with it.

"Maybe."  He shrugged.  "I guess you think it's okay to hit Ania's mother if she looks at something she wants, right?"

"I didn't say that!" my father retorted, but cast his eyes away.  He sat silently for a few seconds.  "Maybe he had another reason."

"Maybe," Iolaus conceded.   "But when is it right to hit your wife?"

My mother sewed furiously.  My brothers sat wide eyed.

"I've never hit my wife."  My father's fists were balled.

"But Flatus has," Iolaus pointed out quietly.  "And is this what you want for Ania?"

"Maybe it was only once,' my father grumbled, but I saw that he couldn't look me in the eye.
"What if he hit Ania only once?  Would that be okay?" Iolaus pressed.

I stared across at my father, his eyes still cast down.

"I've never hit my daughter!"

"No father, you never have." I answered honestly.  "And I don't want to be hit even once." My father met my eyes and I drew strength when I saw the pain there.

"Father!" I breathed.  "I didn't think you understood."

I saw a tear trace a trail down my mother's cheek as she concentrated on her stitchery.

"I am a man of my word," my father repeated, his face drawn and tight.

"Your word to whom," Iolaus prodded.  "Ania or Flatus?"

My father sat characteristically silent, but dropped his head into his hands.  His shoulders drooped and I could see the faint shake of his head.

"Sir, perhaps you've given your word to too many people?" Iolaus suggested.

He sat in his silent stooped position for what seemed like an eternity while I shifted uncomfortably and Iolaus sat at ease, eyes never leaving my father.

The small house was suddenly too warm, too tight, and I felt as if we were all swaddled in heavy cotton, covering even our faces. 

Through the open window I could hear the sound of crickets chirping a sonata, bull frogs sounding low and deep, and far away an owl. And I simply thought of the mouse, small, homely and trapped, hiding perhaps, and waiting to see what fate had in store for it. Would the owl snatch it away, gobbling up its life or would the small and lonely creature escape, to sneak furtively away another time in hopes of finding some morsel worth saving?

The air was heavy and though the stars had been shining overhead, the scent of rain stained the night air.  The clouds would be rolling in soon; the celestial light that graced the velvet night would be swallowed up.

"Would you be proud to call Flatus your son in law?"  Iolaus questioned quietly.  "What does he offer after the pig has been slaughtered and eaten and the hens no longer lay; a dowry only good for a short time?  Will he hunt for you, care for you or your wife in your old age?  Or will he ask for help to feed your new grandchildren?  Then what if Ania, too, dies?  Are you obligated to help him and the children?"

Iolaus paused and let silence fill the room. 

"Have you really thought about this?"

No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity.  I stared across at my father, cradling his face in his hands, his breathing ragged and his shoulders slumped.

Suddenly I felt sorry for him.  He looked so old and tired.  My brothers would eventually go off on their own, but I was a woman and if I wasn't wed, he would be expected to provide for me even in his old age.

I felt the firm pressure of Iolaus's thigh against mine and turned my face to him.  He shot me a look of frustration as I turned my sympathetic face to his.

"Be strong, Ania." He whispered under his breath so quietly that I could almost believe I'd thought it.  So I turned back to stare impassively at my father, as if this was a chess game and Iolaus was the upstart simply taking on the reigning grandmaster, but deep inside I felt my heart torn asunder.

I nodded, as small a nod as I could and still be sure he'd see it.    Pity would only send me into Flatus's arms, a fact I had to bear in mind.  Still, to see my father so broken was difficult to bear.

I let the silence in the room surround me, blocking out all extraneous sound.  The flicker of the candles and the scent of the supper I missed were the only things moving in the room, except perhaps for the wafting breeze that stirred the odors of my fathers sweat, Iolaus's spicy scent and my brothers' fears.  Time passed slowly.  I wanted to turn to Iolaus for courage, but didn't dare.  This was between my father and I, and of course Iolaus as mediator, and Iolaus had been adamant that I needed to separate from him, show my father my strength, and this I endeavored to do now.

And then my father looked up.

"What do you propose?" He asked quietly, voice not defeated, as I'd feared, but simply seeking wise counsel.

"First you must determine your priority," Iolaus answered.  "And then we can plan an action to meet it."

My father nodded.   "As a father I must take care of my family.  I've taught the boys all I know about farming and hunting, enough that they could sustain a family when their times come.  But Ania." He paused, still looking only at Iolaus.

"Ania is a dilemma."

I opened my mouth to protest, but felt the pressure of Iolaus's foot on mine.  I instead struggled to keep a tear slipping from my eyes.  A dilemma!  I had been reduced to a dilemma.  Certainly I'd seen myself as many other things, a mature woman, a daughter, a decent vendor, I could read better than my brothers, though I'd never let my father know that and my brothers were too embarrassed to say otherwise, but I'd never seen  myself as a dilemma.

"How so?" Iolaus prodded, and deep inside I didn't want my father to answer.  I didn't want to know, didn't want my inadequacies revealed to a man I cared so deeply about.

My father sighed and met Iolaus's eyes.  "She isn't exactly what a man looks for in wife.  Yes she's had a suitor or two, but none that made an offer once they came to know her.  And now here's Flatus, the only one who's been serious to this point."

"Not wife material?"  Iolaus questioned, and I felt myself shriveling up like a salted slug. 

My father shifted uncomfortably.  "Um, she doesn't seem to get the hang of womanly chores."

Iolaus stifled a chuckle.  "So a man would have to cook and sew for himself?"

"Yeah, kind of like that."

Iolaus nodded and rubbed a palm across his face so that he wouldn't laugh out loud.  "Okay," he finally answered.  "But it's all in the packaging.  Maybe her cooking isn't the best or her sewing isn't the straightest, but she's a beautiful girl, with a sweet heart and a willing spirit.  She can learn given enough time."

My father nodded.

"And she does a great job for you at the market, isn't that right?"

"Oh yes!" my mother interjected.

"So look at her," Iolaus spoke softly.  "Does she look like a girl who should be tied to Flatus?  Does she look like a woman that men could bypass for long?"

My father stared at me, his face solemn and assessing.

"She looks beautiful to me," Iolaus whispered, clasping my hand under the table and squeezing it tightly, sending his warmth like a lightning bolt shooting from my fingertips to my heart.

My father stared across the table at Iolaus, serious and sincere.

"And as a suitor," Iolaus returned my father's stare.  "I ask you to tell Flatus that the deal is off.  That you've found someone else who has offered far more than he could ever pay, and simply for the privilege of seeing your beautiful daughter."

Iolaus addressed me now. 

"I don't know how this will turn out, but I don't want to take the chance of losing the sweetest and kindest girl I've ever met without even a chance of getting to know her fully."

"Iolaus!" I whispered.

"But Flatus"- - -my father cut in.

"Flatus will have to find someone else."   Iolaus answered simply.  "Cut your losses and focus on finding Ania a husband who not only appreciates her, but can be an asset to you as well."

"My word - - - "My father cut in again.

"I consider your word good," Iolaus soothed.  "And Flatus doesn't care about your word for anything but a quick fix to his problems.  Who offers you more?"

Iolaus spoke with challenge, but his logic couldn't be denied. 

"And with Flatus's track record I would think the town's people would think you the wiser man for turning him down."

My father considered Iolaus's words, his mouth set in a grim straight line and eyes unwavering while I sat holding my breath.  My fate was in the balance.  I sat in stony silence, partly angry that someone else would be able to decide what to do with my life, as if I was no more than a milk cow, content to go wherever she was led; yet another part of me trembled in fear, that I could know there was a different path for me and still be kept from attaining it.

It came as a frightening realization that my life had come down to this one moment in time as a turning point in my existence.  The thread of my fate was to be mingled soon with another's, and I could but hope that it would lead me on a happy path.

The silence was unsettling.  I wanted to stare unwaveringly as my father and Iolaus were doing, but instead found my eyes wandering.  First to my mother, sewing perfect, tight little stitches.  I wondered if she was happy with her life, with the choice her father had made for her, or whether she made do and settled into life as a farmer's wife, mother to four children and help mate to a taciturn man.

Would she change her path now if she could, or had she accepted things for so long, that giving me over to Flatus was simply another of life's injustices to be tolerated, swallowed up and forgotten?  Or was her lack of support fear of the consequences?

And what of my brothers?  Were they afraid as well, that having a say in my own life would empower other women?  That their choice of brides would also come under scrutiny or that the brides fathers might find them lacking and refuse their offers as well?  They sat in a silent triad, watching my parents, waiting to see if my future would affect their lives.

And Iolaus:  He sat as still and silent as if he was hunting a prized beast, his hands now folded on the table, muscles relaxed. The candle light flickered off his golden hair and from the side I could see that he had darkening circles and swelling under his eyes.  He must be tired, I realized.  And suddenly I knew that he'd spent most of night on my father's plow, and then worked all day.  He'd taken me out for supper and now, in the early night hours when he would probably have loved to be sleeping, he sat in negotiation with my father.  Even the hardened ground of a camp would have been more comfortable for him than the straight-backed chair he sat in right now.

I had never considered that my life could affect so many people in so many different ways.

My father broke the silence. 

"You've spoken wisely, Iolaus of Thebes, and your reputation precedes you.  If the mighty Hercules trusts you, how can I do less?"  My father slapped a hand on the table causing one of my brothers to jump.

"I will tell Flatus that I have a better offer."

"Thank you."  Iolaus reached out to shake my father's hand.  "You won't be sorry."

"You're welcome," my father answered magnanimously.  My mother smiled and my brothers actually moved.  "Will you be staying in town for a while then?"

"I plan to," Iolaus answered.  "Hercules will be away for awhile and I've found this town to be welcoming.  The smith is letting me work, and then there's Ania."  He smiled my direction and reached for my hand.

"There's a vacant farm house not far from town.  Owners wanted to be closer to Athens.  Perhaps you could stay there.  I hear the ground is a bit wet this year." My father spoke without looking at Iolaus.

How did my father know that?  Had he been checking up on Iolaus?  Did he actually care enough to make sure Iolaus was who he said he was?

"Thanks," Iolaus answered with a grin.  "I'd be happy to check it out.  And can I ask a small favor?"

My father raised his eyebrows.  "Can I sleep in your barn and go into town with you in the morning?

**

Tomorrow is the wedding.  I'm happy and excited and scared.  My mother sewed me the prettiest dress and my brothers have actually hunted up enough game, with Iolaus's help of course, to feed the guests.  Iolaus has bought the farmhouse not far from here and I've decorated it.  There's enough room for children!  I'm the happiest woman alive today.  I made an offering to Aphrodite, although Iolaus doesn't know it, and I know she'll bless our marriage with love.  My father told me today for the first time that he loves me and that he'll miss me, and I believe him.

The flowers are ready and the guests are coming.  I want nothing more than to be the best wife Iolaus could ever find.  He will be my husband and I his wife.  We will have children and our lives will be complete.  Hercules is here too, and I have met his mother Alcemene, who will stand as Iolaus's mother as well.  I've never been so happy.       

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