For an instant the declaration rocked the twelve year-old to his very core; but only for an instant.

"You're lying," the Warrior Prince snarled disgustedly. Gabrielle was no killer, and even if she had been, she was certainly nowhere near a match for the Warrior Princess! This was one more wretched case of a god deceiving him in order to manipulate him. He would not be so easily fooled again.

"You didn't know? My wonderful brother didn't tell you? Gabrielle was with the Amazons, and that's who found both their bodies at the bottom of a coastal cliff. I know the Amazons told Hercules what happened when he and Iolaus visited the village afterwards. Maybe you should be reconsidering who you can trust," Ares pointedly suggested.

Solan paid no heed to the heavy-handed hint; it was the phrase "both of their bodies at the bottom of a coastal cliff" which consumed all of his attention. It was impossible that Xena should have slipped by accident. And you didn't have to be someone's fighting equal to knock your opponent off a cliff, did you? Especially not if you were ready to fall with your enemy.

Dueling at the edge of an abyss, no sane warrior would expect an adversary to hurl himself at you. It was suicide! You wouldn't be prepared for that. The move would come as a complete surprise.

Like Kenny coming back to life and sneaking up on him had been a surprise.

Like the thug with the twisted-off branch hiding behind the tree had been a surprise.

Like Justin's bellow during their sparring session had been a surprise.

He'd been struggling these last few days over how he to ready himself for the unexpected, how to ensure that another such surprise in battle wouldn't be the death of him. If he could die that way . . . then so could Xena.

"You're lying," Solan repeated, but with less conviction and his cursed voice broke on the last word.

"No," Ares shook his head. "I'm telling you the truth."

"Hercules is the one who will tell me the truth," the Warrior Prince proclaimed defiantly. Whirling he raced from the alley, toward the prison building.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

The god considered trying to stop the young fighter from fleeing, but quickly dismissed the notion. He remembered well how Xena had reacted whenever he tried to get in her way; her son would be no different.

In fact Solan was so much like his lost favorite it almost hurt to look at the kid! When he'd first glimpsed the squalling babe nestled in his mother's arms Ares had immediately dismissed the infant as nothing more than a dangerous distraction for his champion; he never could have dreamed what the boy would grow to become!

How had that happened, though? Xena had given him over to the Centaurs to raise, not done the job herself. The horse-men were okay in a fight, but there was no way they could have trained the kid to anywhere near the level of skill he'd demonstrated. Even more importantly it had been Solan's death which had enabled Ares to spark the lethal enmity between Xena and her little blond incarnation of naïve self-righteousness.

He'd never in a thousand years have guessed that setting his former champion against her whining conscience would result in both of their deaths. He'd just been trying to get Xena back on track, back to doing what she was meant to. He didn't want to lose her!

But he had. She was down in Hades' realm, yet somehow her believed-to-be deceased son was walking around up here!

He'd checked with his uncle downstairs the night the Solan had identified himself, driven to find out who had brought the boy back. After putting up with Hades' bad attitude he'd eventually been informed in no uncertain terms that the kid had never been down there in the first place! Somehow Solan had never died, in spite of what mama bear and everyone else had thought.

The god of war didn't have a clue as to how this could possibly be, not after Xena had torched her child's body on a funeral pyre.

Nor did he understand how the kid could be so well-trained without his mother having instructed him, or possibly be so physically developed at his young age, period.

There was much more going on here than he knew, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth! He'd been given a chance to replace his champion, to finally fill the aching void she'd left in him and in his plans when she'd turned her back on him, and then when she'd . . . gone. It was an opportunity too precious to squander.

He'd hoped a straightforward offer and explanation of what he could provide would be enough to bring Xena's son under his sway, but he should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

So he'd have to do this the hard way. He'd keep watch over his future champion, learn whatever he could of the youth and how Solan had evaded death, and eventually devise a way to win the Warrior Prince's allegiance. He couldn't force Solan to serve him, just as he couldn't have forced Xena to do so; mother and son alike were too stubborn for that, too spirited, like untamed, wild horses. He doubted he could break that spirit without killing Solan, and if somehow managed it he would destroy much of what made the boy so valuable in the first place. He already had plenty of broken, bridled horses who would follow his commands. To lead his army, to pull his personal chariot as it were, he needed a steed with fire and spirit.

True to his heritage, Solan possessed those traits in abundance. The fierce anger which burned in the molten depths of the boy's heart was a truly wonderful thing to behold, a welcome contrast to his half-brother's infuriating calm. The mere thought of coaxing the Warrior Prince to release that rage outward, to direct it against all who opposed him, had the God of War practically grinning from ear to ear. He'd been dead serious when he'd talked to Solan about the latter's ability to reforge Greece.

Of course in order to reforge something, you first had to destroy it.

Naturally his half-brother would try to get in his way. Thus it had been an unexpected pleasure to discover that Hercules hadn't yet told Solan about his mother's fate. Anything he could do to drive a wedge between the two of them could only benefit him.

This was why he'd telekinetically snapped the damaged cross-belt strap while the kid had been making his impassioned plea to Hercules. He would have enjoyed watching the boy battle Mong, but humiliating Xena's son before his half-brother and encouraging Hercules to treat him like a child was more important; it would drive Solan into his camp all the faster.

With any luck the Athenians would end up banishing Hercules from Greece, thus not only putting an end to the "hero's" interference, but also increasing the already strong animosity Xena's son was visibly harboring towards the city and its inhabitants. That dislike was something he might be able to use in the future.

Likely a bigger obstacle to his intentions than Hercules, however, was Solan's companion, this Justin person. Merely from what Solan had said in their conversation the teenager already sounded far too much like Gabrielle for his liking. It was very tempting to simply kill the little nuisance, but doing so would probably alienate Solan from him permanently.

Damnation! Was it some kind of family trait of Xena's, to get attached to an annoying, yapping pet and then take the mongrel with you everywhere?!

No matter. He would have the Warrior Prince's loyalty sooner or later, one way or another. He would not be denied again.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

It couldn't be true. It couldn't be!

That was what Solan kept telling himself as he raced through the streets. He was able to avoid most people, but twice he accidentally rammed someone and sent the man flying. A quick apology was all he could offer in recompense as he sprinted toward the jail.

There it was now! There was a crowd of people clustered at one corner. With his height he was able to peer over the heads of the crowd and see what they were looking at: a large, gaping hole knocked in the corner of the building.

The corner where Hercules' cell was located. Furthermore the bricks had been knocked outward, not inward.

Solan skidded to a stop, his mind awash in confused frustration.

Hercules had given his word to stay in that cell. He'd said he couldn't break it, not even to stop this Mong. So where was he now, and why had he left?

There was only one thing he could think to do at this point.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Now Justin was worried. There was no way it should be taking Solan this long to reach the gate, not unless he'd run into some kind of trouble. And if he had, he was facing it alone.

The one thing keeping Justin from going in search of his companion was the fear that they would somehow end up missing each other and thus be separated for even longer.

If he didn't find and help his friend soon, though, maybe they would be separated forever.

That fear was enough to get him moving. He started down the street toward the stables and his heart nearly skipped a beat in relief when a familiar figure came around the corner in front of him.

"Solan! Where the heck have you been?" the teenager demanded. At the same time he was studying his friend, noting with relief the absence of any visible wounds. Then his gaze reached his Solan's face and his relief faded.

The blond boy's jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed and intent. His body language radiated the same kind of uncontained nervous energy he'd displayed when they had first heard Hercules was on trial and he had been desperate to get to Athens.

"Justin, Hercules isn't in his cell," Solan stated as he came to stand opposite Justin.

Had he gone back to see Hercules again? Why? To try one last time to convince the Grecian legend that he could handle Mong?

"I know," Justin said shortly. "He left just a little while ago to go fight Mong."

"Then let's go," the Warrior Prince commanded, swerving around the former Turbo Ranger and moving quickly toward the gate.

"Wait a minute! What happened?" Justin asked, having to run to catch up.

"I spoke with Ares," Solan replied bluntly.

Justin's heart plunged. There was no conceivable way that could possibly be a good thing.

"Where? What did he want?"

"In an alley near the stables, and he wanted me to lead an army for him."

Of course. Naturally. How silly of Justin to even ask! Ares wanted what all gods seemed to want, for Solan to conquer the damn planet! It was beyond maddening! His friend was a true Power Ranger in spirit, yet deity after deity kept trying to force him into the role of world-dominating villain instead of heroic protector!

"What did he do to you?" Justin inquired urgently.

Ares had to have done something for Solan to look this way, to act this way. It couldn't merely be that he had made an offer they'd both suspected was coming.

"He told me-" Solan started in a high-pitched voice, then broke off and swallowed twice. "He told me my mother is dead, that Gabrielle killed her and died in the process."

Justin halted in surprise; his companion didn't.

Hurrying again to catch up to his ally he said, "Solan, you can't trust him!"

"After everything we've been through already don't you think I know that?" the Warrior Prince demanded harshly as he whirled to confront Justin. "I'm not taking his word for it, but he said Hercules already knew she was dead. I've got to ask him!"

"Then like you said, let's go," Justin agreed softly.

In a dismayingly familiar turn of events the teenager once more found himself at a loss as to what he could say to make his companion feel better. Unbidden a litany of all of the things people had told him after his own mother's death ran through his head. Few of the sentiments had given him any genuine comfort and here there was the added problem of Solan's mixed feelings about his mother Not to mention the fact that they didn't even know for sure if she was dead or not! Perhaps trying to help Solan reason through this uncertainty was the best way he could help.

"Gabrielle couldn't have killed Xena, though, right? Didn't you say your m-Xena was the best fighter in Greece?" Justin asked, barely catching himself in time. Solan might very well not appreciate Justin calling Xena his mom.

"That's what bothers me the most!" Solan burst out. "Ares said they were found at the base of a cliff. Gabrielle could never defeat the Warrior Princess in a fair fight, but she could have surprised Xena by ramming into her and sending them both over the edge. We were talking about surprises in battle yesterday, remember?"

Of course he remembered! It wasn't as if he could forget stabbing his only friend during a sparring session, though he wished it were otherwise.

So if Xena had been killed by a surprise in battle . . . then he'd been wrong to try to break Solan of his habit of striking instinctively in response to a touch. He wouldn't complain when it happened again and wouldn't reproach his friend. At this point he was even prepared to reluctantly accept whatever harm Solan accidentally dealt out to others in the future without comment.

Guilt and shame accompanied this decision, but Justin let neither emotion sway him. If what Archon had done would help keep Solan alive, he would not be the one to try to undo it. He was through telling heroes to stand down.

Perhaps he even needed to rethink his position on not killing in the heat of battle. After all, that was the exact same course of action he'd proposed to everyone on his side in the tournament and the results had been nothing short of catastrophic. Hadn't he decided afterward that he was through with trying to lead? So what had he been doing setting rules of engagement for the Warrior Prince, in the latter's own world? Though he was a Ranger no more, maybe it was time to pay heed to his color again, to slip into the proper Blue role of advisor and technician to a natural Red like Solan.

So deeply was Justin enmeshed in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice they'd reached the village until he heard the shouts just ahead. He and Solan sprinted into the agora, which was in a shambles. Everywhere stands were smashed, carts were overturned, and wares were scattered. Standing in the middle of all of this devastation was a figure towering to at least seven feet. He form was incredibly broad and his limbs were thick as pillars; Justin couldn't help being reminded of a picture he'd seen once in National Geographic of a grizzly bear standing on its hind legs. Except the bear he'd seen had probably been smaller than Mong.

He wore a huge leather jerkin with a cross-belt. His skull was hairless save for a single dark braid.

Standing before him was Hercules, fist cocked. As Justin and Solan drew near he delivered a thunderous right-cross to Mong's jaw, the force of which turned him fully around to face them. The Grecian grabbed at his right hand and muttered through gritted teeth, "I'd like to rephrase that."

Solan tried to bypass the hero, but Hercules held up his left hand and barked out, "Wait!"

Behind him Mong was-was grinning! He held up in front of them a bloody tooth the size of a walnut.

"It was a bad tooth!" Hercules called out to the cluster of villagers gathered fearfully around the outskirts of the agora. "He just wanted someone to help."

"Ah—toothache?" Iolaus asked from the midst of the onlookers. "Huh?"

Yes, that pretty much took the words right out of Justin's mouth. All of this destruction and fear over a freaking tootache?!

"Now, Mong, you gotta help these people clean this place up. Ok?"

The massive man nodded.

"Good. I gotta go," Hercules announced, heading for the edge of the village.

Justin's genius mind was still struggling futilely to make sense of the surreal absurdity of the entire situation when Solan sprinted ahead and firmly planted himself in Hercules' way.

"Is my mother dead?" he demanded without preamble.

"Solan," Hercules began, and his momentary hesitance afterward gave everything away.

"She is," Solan whispered. "She's dead and you didn't tell me!"

"I didn't want to tell you while I was stuck in jail," Hercules explained apologetically. "I wanted to be able to help you through this," he claimed, reaching out to clasp Solan's shoulder.

"Don't touch him!" Justin shouted and the urgency in his voice made even Hercules jerk back.

Solan, however, merely stood there, fists clenched at his sides. At first Justin thought the Warrior Prince was standing perfectly still, but as he continued to gaze upon his companion he realized the bigger boy was shuddering very slightly, tiny tremors running all throughout his body.

"Solan," Hercules began again, and the son of Xena turned and ran. Not toward Athens, but westwards.

"Solan!" the Greek hero called out again, to no effect. He started after the fleeing twelve year-old, but this time Iolaus stepped in his way.

"You need to go back for the trial," he argued. "I'll go after him."

"No, I'LL go after him!" Justin contradicted. "I'm his best friend, and I tell him the truth! Right now he'd probably kick either of your asses if you caught up to him. If you really want to help Solan, go back to Athens and win that trial. Spensius is trying to outlaw heroes altogether, and that's what Solan is, through and through. He deserves to be honored for that, not hunted like a criminal."

Without bothering to see if they would heed his words Justin took off after his friend.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Though the long-haired blond youth ran swiftly as the wind itself, he couldn't outdistance the truth pounding over and over in his head. Xena was dead. DEAD!

The reunion he'd longed for and dreaded since learning the truth would not take place. He would never be able to unleash his furious wrath upon his mother for what she'd done to him, for betraying and abandoning him. He would never have the opportunity to beat her to the ground with blade and first and boot, to show her how worthy he was of the title he'd claimed, the one so like her own. He would never have the chance to revel in her despair over how markedly superior her son was to her, how for all her fame she would never be anything more in history than a mere footnote to his coming.

He would-he would never hear her apologize for leaving him, even if it was a lie. He would never see the tears of regret shine in her eyes and never feel her arms close around him in a mother's embrace. He would never be able to proudly introduce her to Justin. They would never fight side by side, mother and son, against some monstrous evil.

None of it would ever happen.

He ran on until he could run no more. Then he fell to the grass and wept. He wept for all he had lost, for everything which had been stolen from him with his mother's death.

Solan's storm of tears had long ago dried on his cheeks when Justin at last lurched into view. The stumbling Ranger was clearly on his last legs and in spite of his own deep and abiding misery Solan felt a flash of guilt at having put his friend to such physical punishment. Of course Justin would come after him. Justin always came after him.

Rising he moved forward and caught the smaller boy as Justin fell.

"Solan!" he rasped hoarsely. "Are-are you all right?"

"No," he flatly told his friend as he gathered Justin up in his muscular arms. Then he carried the teenager about four hundred yards back to a pond he'd passed in his headlong flight. They were both in dire need of water, Solan from all he had shed as tears and Justin for all he had sweated away to catch up. By this point in the day the tall, strapping twelve year-old's hunger had become like a living thing, one seeking to gnaw its way out through his torso with razor-sharp teeth, but there was nothing on hand to appease it so he would have to settle for water.

So instead they drank deeply from the pond. Solan insisted on checking Justin's feet and frowned guiltily at the reddened beginnings of blisters he spotted there.

"This wouldn't have happened if I'd been wearing my tennis shoes," the Ranger sulked as he pulled his boots back on. "Next time you decide to take off give me a chance to change first, okay?"

To his own surprise Solan burst out laughing at the request. A look of relief washed over Justin's face as he stared at Solan, who then clapped his comrade hard on the shoulder.

"Thanks for coming after me."

"You'd do the same for me; you did! I couldn't let you run off alone, especially not after hearing something like that."

The traces of laughter remaining in him died at that.

"I can't believe she's gone," he confessed forlornly after a few minutes of silence. "I never thought she would die in battle, not unless I slew her myself."

Lost in his thoughts, Solan missed Justin's wince at that.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through this," Justin said. It was an obvious and stupid thing to say, but the sentiment came from the heart and Solan seemed to appreciate it.

"Thank you," he said.

"So-what do you want to do now?"

What did he want to do now, aside from killing, cooking and eating a whole cow?

"I want to go back to Athens and see the rest of the trial."

"You do? Even after Hercules didn't tell you about Xena?"

"Yes."

The two began to make their way back to Athens, but exhausted and hunger-stricken as he was Justin proved unable to keep up even with Solan's normal walking pace.

"You go ahead. If you wait for me you'll miss the rest of the day's trial," Justin urged.

"I'm not going to leave you!"

"Go! I'll be fine."

"Then I'll miss the trial," he declared stubbornly.

"Solan, you want to see this. I'll catch up."

"No!" Solan all but shouted and Justin gave up.

Together they proceeded, with slowness Justin was sure had to be torturous for the perpetually energetic and active Solan. It was very late in the afternoon when they at last reached the village and Justin was able to use the couple of pieces of silver he always kept with him to buy some fruit and bread at the restored agora to staunch their hunger.

The sun was touching the horizon by the time they entered the courthouse. Unexpectedly, rather than one of the lawyers, it was Hercules who was standing in the center of the courtroom and speaking.

"And I've bent the law," he said, "when my heart tells me it's unjust. 'Cause justice is not about the letter of the law-but its spirit. And I do try to inspire others-to be everything that they're capable of being. If this is sedition-then I am guilty. But there's something more on trial here: a hero. A hero is a person who's not afraid to risk his life for another. And sometimes, like Czankas, it means losing that life. It's what-it's what separates us from the animals and from the gods who would like us to believe that we are less than they are. And that is why we all need heroes-to set a higher standard that others can aspire to. If I'm guilty of this, well, then I'm proud of it. If this is sedition, then I'm proud of that too, and you might as well sentence me—cause I won't stop trying to do what's right. No, my-my heart won't allow it. And if this is wrong, then you take me now."

It was a powerful and moving speech, and Justin was impressed in spite of himself. Beside him Solan's azure eyes burned, fixed unwaveringly on the big brown-haired man.

Then Iolaus stepped forward.

"No! Take me. I'm Hercules. I think like him. I try to be like him. If you think what's he's doing is wrong, you'll have to banish me too."

King Jason joined the blond man.

"No, take me. I am Hercules."

In an instant Solan was gone from his side, striding to the center of the courtroom.

"I am Hercules!" he intoned, and when Hercules saw him a look of relief went over the demi-god's face.

More people came forward declaring themselves to be Hercules, including Dadealus. Justin hesitated. He couldn't deny the truth of Hercules' words.

"I am Hercules," he said, stepping up beside Solan.

In exasperation Spensius looked to the judge, who raised one hand in warning.

"Don't say it! If we proceed, I shall have to banish myself, also. I am Hercules. Case dismissed!" he ruled with a smile.

Cheering broke out as Spensius turned and stormed angrily out of the courtroom.

Hercules began thanking the friends grouped around him, accepting their congratulations. When he reached Solan his expression sobered.

"Can we talk?" he asked, and the Warrior Prince held still for a moment before giving a jerky nod. Justin started go too, but Solan motioned pointedly toward Dadealus.

The twentieth century teen sighed. Here went nothing.

"Dadealus!"

"Yes? Who are you?" the old man asked.

"My name is Justin. Even in my land you are known as a great inventor, but we too have learned much of science. Would you do me the honor of speaking with me about it?"

ΩΩΩΩΩ

The man and boy went to a corner of the room, behind Spensius' stone stand.

"After this trial was over I was going to tell you about Xena. I'm sorry you had to find out what happened before I could."

"Is it true? That she and Gabrielle were found at the base of a cliff?" Solan asked thickly.

"Yes," he confirmed with a sigh. "The Amazons found the bodies washed up on the shore. They told me Gabrielle had a daughter by Dahak, and that daughter had killed Xena's son. Then Gabrielle killed her, but Xena still came after Gabrielle for revenge."

That was the reason for their rift? The girl who tried to murder him had been Gabrielle's daughter, with Dahak? And Xena—Xena had died avenging him?!

Hercules looked directly at Solan.

"When you first showed up I thought you must be a different, older son of Xena's. Ares seemed sure you were her child, and I could see your resemblance to your mother in your jaw and eyes. Iolaus told me later told me that you fought just like her. But you said you'd seen her at the Centaur village, and the name you gave, and your age . . . you're the son she lost, aren't you?

"Yes!" he all but shouted, glad to be able to assert one of the few things he knew beyond doubt.

"How are you alive again?" Hercules asked gently.

"It's-it's a very long story," Solan managed to get out, his mind awhirl with these new revelations.

"I hope you'll take the time to tell it to me," Hercules said gravely.

"I remember what you told me about her, but the Xena I knew had turned away from the darkness. She was trying to help people and make things better, to make up for everything she'd done in the past. She truly was a hero."

Solan's throat had all but closed up, so he couldn't have argued if he'd wanted to. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. He was still trying in vain to get a handle on himself in the wake of this new information.

In this moment of quiet a pretty young brown-haired woman came over to them.

"Congratulations, Hercules," she said.

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry about Czankas," Hercules said hesitantly and Solan realized that this must be the widow of the man who'd died impersonating Hercules.

"And I'm sorry about all of this. I should've never listened to Spensius."

"You did what you thought was right."

"No, you and your friends are right. The world needs heroes. Before he met you, my husband's life was-lost and misguided, and he changed because of you."

"It cost him his life," Hercules observed regretfully.

"He died a hero. Now my children have two heroes to look up to: you and their father."

Iolaus approached next.

"I'm sorry to rush you, but we've got a war to stop in Plathos."

In the midst of his confusion and unhappiness the twelve year-old eagerly latched onto Iolaus' words. A war to stop? What was this?

"Yeah, I have to go," Hercules told the woman.

"You know, this trial did prove one thing. There aren't enough of you to go around," she noted wistfully.

Not yet, maybe, but wait until he and Justin had been adventuring for a couple of years! She'd see then, everyone would see, that the two of them were just as good as Hercules and Iolaus!

"Be safe," Hercules urged her.

"And you too," she said, and walked away.

"You're going to stop a war?" Solan asked his idol, his heartbeat already quickening.

"Yeah, a war Ares started," Hercules noted grimly. "And I'd like you and Justin to come with us. Ares is going to come after you sooner or later; the two of you shouldn't have to face him down alone. Better that we confront him together. In the meantime you can explain to me what happened to you."

He'd faced Ares already, though Hercules didn't know that. He'd tell the man later. Right now the rush of intense excitement and anticipation at the thought of working with Hercules to stop an entire war, of being able to do something instead of having to sit around and think about all of this, was nearly overwhelming him and he eagerly nodded his assent.

"We're ready to leave as soon as we pick up Alpha Seven. Let me go tell Justin!"

Darting away he searched the crowd for his friend. A familiar voice called his name and a beaming Justin almost ran towards him.

"Justin!" he cried.

"Hercules wants him us to go with him to Plathos to stop a war Ares began!" he told his friend breathlessly.

"Dadealus invited us to go back with him to his home for as long as we need, until I've told him everything I know about science!" Justin burst out in practically the same breath.

When each understood what his companion had said the boys' joyful enthusiasm quickly ebbed away as they silently stared at one another.

To Be Continued . . .

Author's note: While I will definitely be returning to my chronicle of Solan and Justin, my next project is a sequel to "And a Teenager Shall Lead Them" entitled "The Ranger War". Due to a complaint about the long and erratic update schedule of this tale I will be going back to my practice of at least half-finishing "The Ranger War" before I begin posting chapters, one every two weeks. See you then! Oh, and if you have any ideas or anything you'd particularly like to see in TRW, let me know now and I'll take that into consideration.