The Tears of War
by Amorette

They had all left, the grieving widow and her sons; the former king and the hero's companion who, with the hero, would make up the tribune of regents to rule until the late king's eldest son came of age. They left the hero, alone, by the bier that held the remains of his mortal brother.

Hercules turned down the edge of the winding sheet to gaze upon his brother's face one last time. They had washed away the blood, combed the auburn hair over the worst of the injuries, so the damage barely showed. Hercules laid his hand against his brother's cheek, felt how the flesh had become clay.

"It isn't fair," he whispered, the tears sliding down his cheeks. "It isn't fair."

"Since when is life fair?"

"Go away, Ares."

"No."

The God of War came to stand beside the king's bier, across from Hercules, looking down at the mortal face. "The problem with being immortal," said the god, "is you spend an annoying amount of time mourning the mortals who touch your life."

Hercules raised his head and stared at Ares as if he had never see the god before. Ares returned the burning gaze calmly.

"What? It's been a long time but he used to be a soldier. A damn good one, at that." The harsh lines of the god's face softened. "I was. . .fond of him."

"Why now?" Hercules throat was tight and his words came out in a whisper. "Why now? When everything was finally right in his life. He loved his wife, he had three sons, he was going to be the head of the alliance of Greek kings. His life was getting better every day. Why now?"

Ares shrugged. "The official line is hubris and how gods like to keep mortals from getting complacent but the real reason is, the Fates are bitches and sometimes they don't pay attention."

"So, the answer is no one cares."

"I care, Hercules. So do some of the other gods but you might be surprised at how much of life is out of our hands. The Fates don't send us notes saying 'we plan to cut the life thread of so-and-so unless you object.' We find out the same as mortals, when the heartbeat stops."

"Could you. . ."

"No. And I couldn't have if I had been here the instant he fell." The god took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Even if I wanted to. Mortals die." His hand touched the dead king's cheek, just where Hercules had touched it. "It's not fair and, when it comes to some mortals, I hate it but life isn't fair. Evil men often died peacefully of old age and good men are taken in their prime through a stupid accident."

Hercules didn't even try to wipe his tears as the ran down his face. "He was the best horseman I knew and he gets killed in a riding accident."

Ares touched the king's skull, felt where the bone was cracked and the brain had taken its fatal injury. The shell was empty now, hollow, no longer a man.

"I would have healed him," said Ares, "if I could have. But the instant his head hit that stone, the bone was driven in and he was dead. Even though his body kept breathing for a day, he was gone."

Hercules stared, stunned and awed, as he watched tears slid slowly down his brother's cheeks, to fall on the face of his other brother. He reached out a trembling hand and caught one of the tears as it fell.

"The tears of War," whispered Hercules. "They must be valuable."

Ares shook his head. "They're cheap. I've shed a ocean full in my lifetime, over children, lovers, and friends."

"Is he in the Elysian Fields?"

"I suppose so. All I know is he isn't here."

"No."

"The best we can do," said the God, pulling the sheet up over Iphicles' face, "is keep his memory, celebrate his life, and be glad he touched ours. Mourn him, grieve for his family, and be grateful he lived at all. God or mortal, it's all we can do."

Hercules nodded, not surprised when Ares moved beside him, wrapped the hero in his immortal embrace, and wept with him.

February 16, 2002
In memory of Kevin Smith