This is a piece I’m currently working on, and I thought it might fit here:

MIDSUMMER, 1211 BC

Upon a distant, seemingly-inconsequential blue-green planet, in the waning decades of the bronze age, the great sword and mallet of Iphitus ripped simultaneously through the air, cleaving an unyielding path just above the giant's bowing head. Watching as the man's torso twisted with his own efforts, Heracles extended himself under his opponent's swing, reaching for the man's tunic. The younger Iphitus was fast, but the momentum of his weighted swing was taking him too far from effective combat. Heracles closed his fingers on the man's clothing, pulling the surprised fellow to him.

Caught unprepared, Iphitus released a solemn vow of heated vengeance, to which Heracles heartily laughed in reply, raising the now defenseless man high above his head, where he shook him so hard the sword and mallet both fell to the earth, thumping heavily at the big man's feet. He then tossed Iphitus, catching him under his arms and grinning at him like he was a child, dangling the poor fellow's feet a full cubit from the soil.

"If it was meant to be, Iphitus, so it would be," Heracles howled to his opponent. "As it is, I am a son of Olympus, while you are but the eldest of a mortal king."

"Put me down," Iphitus warned to the giant.

"Have I again bested you, as I have your brothers?"

"I command you...!"

"As I hold you aloft," Heracles was quick to point out, chuckling to the struggling young man. "You have tried me with bow and again with single combat. Tell me, Iphitus, have I won this, our second contest? Am I free now to depart your lands?"

He halted his struggle, a look of dejection crossing his face. "I do not wish you to go, Heracles," he openly admitted. "You have become--like a brother to me--a kindred."

"This is known, Iphitus, as well as appreciated," he lowered the man to the ground. "But my home calls to me and I must go."

"Will you come back?"

He grinned down to his new-found friend. "If at all possible, I shall one day return. This is an oath upon my father's name, to which I call upon Styx as witness."

"As upon Iole?" the young prince smiled.

"Ah, she does listen well," Heracles lightly mused.

"Not with me," Iphitus complained.

"You are her brother," the giant chuckled, giving the younger man's shoulder a good-natured shove. "She is not supposed to listen to you." As one, they laughed. "No, Iphitus. Your sister is not for me. I was told of your father's challenge and sought only to win. Iole's hand remains free of my bond."

"One day, I shall be king of Oeschalia and much of her lands," he needlessly informed his comrade. He gazed up at the giant man. "I would that you vow service to us."

"Mine is of a higher calling, my friend," Heracles reminded. He lifted his oaken cudgel from the ground and walked to where his hasty battle preparations had landed his dark Nemean cloak. "As my father commands, so do I render compliance."

In thought, Iphitus laid his sword and mallet upon the floor of the small wagon. As Heracles laid his club with the other's weapons, the young prince gazed out across the back of the horse to the palace of Eurytus, his father. "He was a fool to be angry with you. You are Heracles. We are not expected to best an Olympian."

"Royalty often confuses itself with deity," Heracles idly replied, dismissing the other's unnecessary plea. He patted the leather purse at his hip and smiled. "I have received my payment. All is well here, and my home calls for me. My wife, my children... I must depart, Iphitus, for there are other tasks, other adventures my father would..."

The unexpected arrow passed between the two men, burying deep within the flank of the roan mare harnessed to the prince's wagon. The horse cried and bolted, taking the cart and weapons with it. Heracles took hold of his friend's tunic and pulled the man behind him, turning now to face this new enemy.

The mounted soldiers from King Eurytus' royal guard were just topping the hill, six men upon six charging war-stallions. Seeing his father's emblem, Iphitus rushed out from behind the Olympian, waving his arms and shouting for the soldiers to stop. Heracles hurried to the prince's side, warily watching the approaching troops. They were not slowing their attack.

The giant bowed his head to the onslaught and, with a great, maddened howl, ran toward the line of combat, his powerful arms extended to either side. Wide-eyed and blowing, the two lead horses collided with Heracles' shoulders, bringing them to an abrupt halt and casting the two archers high into the air. He shoved the beasts from his path, his searching eyes immediately taking in the lay of battle.

At his back, he heard the whip of a blade cutting the air and he spun to face it, his hand reaching ahead of his eyes to catch the intended blow. He gripped the attacker's wrist, wrenching the man from the saddle and casting him without mercy against a nearby tree stump. The remaining mounted assassins were circling him now, their swords ripping the air with jabs and slashes. In the distance, he could hear Lichas, his ever-adventurous travelling companion, calling to him from the shallow valley as he flew to the demigod's aid.

Turning around to observe this assaulting force, Heracles spied the form of his young friend, Prince Iphitus, lying still, and not far from where his cart had stood. He cried out in anger, now turning his hating glare to his attackers, and discovering a face he knew. There was Toxeus, youngest of that king's errant sons.

"What have you done with my brother, giant?" Prince Toxeus shouted down to him. He jabbed a lance, touching Heracles' shoulder and drawing his blood. "Speak to me, mutant!"

"Step from your mount, little man, and we shall converse," Heracles offered.

At this open rebuke, Prince Toxeus reached to Heracles, jabbing again with his lance, but the ageless hero of legend took hold of the man's weapon, tearing it easily from his grasp. In alarm, the mounted soldiers backed from him, their horses continuing to trot their containment circle around him, but at a more respectable distance.

"Come to me, Toxeus," Heracles loudly taunted. "Show your soldiers how a brave man should die."

"Tor," the prince called to his captain. "Kill him!"

The soldier turned his horse into the circle, his blade slicing down to the head of Heracles. With the captured lance, the demigod deflected the attack with ease, springing to the side and slashing the edge of the lance to the man's exposed face. There was a grating feel as the blade dug into the bone of the captain's jaw, and the man's sword fell to the ground.

Toxeus backed his horse from the scene. "You fool!" he screamed to the wounded man, turning his mount to flee to his father's castle.

The remaining soldier turned with his prince, but was ordered back to complete what his captain had found to be an impossible task. Crying out with expectant terror, the young man charged on Heracles, his sword-arm held straight and rigid before him. The giant turned to the soldier and swung the lance to his defense, sliding the bloody tip in a gouging rip along the underside of the man's extended arm and deep into his pounding heart. The momentum of the charge took him from his horse, toppling his now-lifeless form to the torn ground.

Heracles spun quickly around, seeing the retreat of the cowardly young prince and looking over to the wounded captain. The man was still mounted, but holding his ruined face in his bloodied hands. The son of Olympus then hurried to where Iphitus had fallen, gently rolling his friend to his back.

The eyes fluttered and the elder prince gasped out. There was a darkly violet lump growing on his brow. Having seen others with similar injuries die an unexpected death, generally in the calm of sleep, Heracles was cautious, realizing the danger of jostling the man. He helped him to his feet, his burning eyes turning now to the white plaster walls and orange clay rooftops of distant Oeschalia, the village which surrounded the king's high palace.

"This is your father's parting gift to me?" he asked the prince.

Unsteadily, Iphitus stood, looking up to the giant. "Was it Toxeus?"

"It was," he replied, leading the injured man to the wagon and the fallen mare.

"Then that is whom you should blame, my friend," he pointed out. "Long has he held my two brothers and me in contempt. He is the youngest, ergo he did not receive the choicest lands, and he may never be king of Oeschalia."

"That would be reserved for you, the eldest."

"Yes, and this knowledge burns him." He looked up to the giant man at his side. "Forgive my family their spiteful ways, my friend. Have cheer and depart for your home--leave me to my sorrow and shame. The affront against you and against the oath of my family name shall be avenged, but by the laws of my father's land."

Heracles knelt at the head of the wounded horse, gazing into the beast's frightened eyes. "I cannot do that, Iphitus," he told the man. "I am duty-bound to reply..." He looked up to the prince. "...And reply I shall."

"This cannot be allowed. Heracles, this is my land and my people--my family. What is done is wrong. What is planned is not right."

"I am sorry. Now, stand back."

He drew back his fist and drove it into the head of the horse, killing it with one blow. The legs of the creature stiffened out, lurching its own carcass violently in the dust. With the beast now at rest, Heracles rose and looked at the prince.

"It will be a quick death," he promised.

"He is my brother!"

Lichas, panting with the exertion of his race up the long hill, came into them. "You are uninjured, my friend?" he gasped, reaching a cautious hand to the small lance-wound upon the demigod's bare shoulder.

Heracles looked to the prince. "He has chosen to become my enemy," he firmly replied. Grinning now, he regarded his concerned traveling companion's exhaustion. "A small knoll such as this, Lichas, and you act like an brittle, old woman." With a fading smile he looked out to the castle. "Fetch my cudgel from the cart. It is time to hunt."

"Perhaps..." Iphitus offered, "...If you were to wed Iole? ...Heracles, please. We will battle you to the last."

"Then it shall be upon this day that an empire must fall."

Anyway, Heracles reportedly won this battle, killing all the family members, including Iphitus -- except for the king's daughter. It was just days later that Heracles was killed by his jealous wife, Dejanira.

A death from behind the ranks?

Dan