Hercules: The Legendary Journeys Two Book Collection (Juvenile) by David L. Seidman Page B

‘no.”
    Hercules sprinted towards the soldier. His target did not look up until the last minute. Just as the soldier saw Hercules, the old man swerved and wriggled out of the way. Reaching up, Hercules pulled the soldier down on to the rocks. There was a horrible scorching sound and the soldier yelled.
    The old man squirmed backwards and ran towards a cranny in the wall. Hercules sprinted after him.
    At that very moment, a club flew past Hercules’ shoulder and landed on the ground nearby. It had come from the cranny. The old man had disappeared into the shadows. Hercules chased after him.
    Before Hercules could reach the cranny, a second soldier tumbled out, with the old man clasped around his legs. The pair landed at Hercules’ feet. He grabbed the soldier’s shoulders and pulled him off the ground.
    The old man yelled and dived for the other soldier, who had recovered and was now trying to aim an arrow at Hercules. The soldier waved the arrow left, right, up and down, but the charging old man waved his arms and blocked him from getting a clear shot.
    Still holding the second soldier in midair, Hercules saw the other’s bow stop bobbing. The soldier took steady aim at the old man’s chest. The second soldier grabbed for the club at his hip and swung it towards Hercules’ middle.
    It never touched him, because Hercules flung the soldier into the air. He whistled over the old man’s head and crashed into the first soldier. He then grabbed both men, cracked their heads together and dropped them by the hot rocks. They looked surprisingly peaceful, dozing in the rocks’ sunset-red glow.
    Hercules turned to face the old man, who was sitting on the ground. He trembled and wheezed, but his head was tilted up and his eyes were attentive.
    Heavy footsteps behind him made Hercules whirl, but it was only Cactus.
    â€œI heard you having a fight, so I came to help. Too late.”
    â€œGreat work, Hercules!” shouted the cheery voice of Salmoneus. “I knew you could do it! What a move! If you’d let me set up some gladiatorial battles, we’d make a fortune!”
    Hercules bit back the unkind comment he was about to make and instead strode over to the old man.
    He would have been quite tall if his shoulders weren’t bent and he hadn’t been shrivelled by neglect and rough treatment. He was very skinny. Grime and soot covered his fingers and the bottoms of his bare feet. His thin, nearly white hair was falling out; his beard was days old and straggly. When sudden coughs shook his body, Hercules half-expected to hear his bones rattle.
    â€œPardon me,” the old man rasped. His voice was scratchy and faint, but somehow deep at the same time. He smiled weakly at Hercules. “Dungeon life does wonders for the constitution.”
    The old man seemed in remarkably good spirits. Hercules suddenly realized why he seemed familiar.
    â€œYou’re—” he began, but the old man was ahead of him.
    â€œYes, Hercules. I am Slaughterius.”

Chapter 12
    â€œYou need an explanation,” the old man said, smiling gently. “Come. Sit.”
    â€œSeveral explanations,” Hercules agreed. They all sat down next to the old man. “If you’re Slaughterius, who’s up there?” he asked.
    â€œFrankly,” the old man said, “that’s what I’d like to know too.” He coughed suddenly.
    Some time ago, he said, rumours began spreading that the cows and sheep raised by the citizens of Pastoralis were unfit for human use. Sales dropped like a rock down a well. Since the Pastoralians made their living from their cows and sheep, they soon found themselves penniless. They couldn’t afford to buy anything from other cities, including food, clothing or any kind of comforts or luxuries. Pastoralians who could find work elsewhere soon did, leaving the town nearly empty of doctors, carpenters and other skilled craftsmen.
    As leader,