PART 2

V. The Odors of Perception (or Pussy Galore)

Remember the short-cut rule? Much higher on the list of things you learn when you're a traveling warrior is: unless you absolutely can't avoid it, never get involved with the gods . I've done my best to follow this rule as much as I can—to mixed results, unfortunately.

It's not a fear thing. On the contrary, when you meet the higher powers you realize just how annoying and flawed they really are and as a result, not the least bit scary. Unfortunately, they're annoying and flawed with the ability to cause mass destruction and mischief. Not a good combination. So avoiding them and their petty little plans is a good rule in my opinion.

Evidently, this rule is not high priority in thieving circles.

I suppose it could have been worse. It could have been Hera. Or Zeus—now there's a guy you don't want to have mad at you.

Although from what I'd heard, Artemis was no Peloponnesian picnic either. Stories of her prowess as a huntress often ended in the tracking and slaying of human prey. And it wasn't like she was a big fan of men either.

Autolycus had certainly outdone himself this time. Still, he is a friend—and I owe him my life.

I looked up at Ephiny. “I want to see him. Now ,” I demanded.

“Not a good idea,” Ephiny shook her head. “Artemis would never allow it.”

I crossed my arms. “Really? We'll see about—”

“Xena.” Gabrielle put her hand on my arm.

I sighed. “Take us to Artemis, then.”

Ephiny darted her eyes to the side. “O-okay.”

“Maybe we could…maybe we could clean up first?” Gabrielle offered quickly. “Why give Artemis an excuse to…deny our requests? Right?”

I glared at the bard, but noticed that several of the village cats had begun to move with curiosity and hunger toward us. Not to mention the constant swarm of gnats around my head.

Ephiny tilted her head. “Yeah, diplomacy might go over better.” I could see her sidelong glance at me. “While I do that, Dorcas can show you to your quarters.”

“Thanks,” Gabrielle said. “Oh, and thanks again for agreeing to take my place in the ceremony. If the Nation knew about my two left feet, they’d probably thank you.”

Ephiny cleared her throat and tried to hide her grin, saying, “Why do you think I agreed in the first place? I saw you dance the first time, remember? You’d probably cause a plague of locusts or bunnies or something.”

Gabrielle planted her hands on her hips. “Oh, you’re so funny.”

“And you’re so smelly. Go hit the showers, your majesty.” She signaled to Dorcas who waited politely out of earshot.

Gabrielle nodded and waved, turning to follow our guide.

I turned to Ephiny as I passed her. “Make sure nothing happens while we’re getting ready.”

She raised her nose and nodded.

We followed the young warrior toward the queen's hut near the center of the village. I nudged Gabrielle. “Where do they keep getting these?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?” She growled.

“Huh?”

Before I could finish, I realized we were being led to a different hut, Ephiny's by the look of it. “I guess Artemis gets to bunk in the Queen's place when she's in town, huh?”

Gabrielle kept walking, a sort of snooty bearing to her stride. Someone was a little sore about losing her fancy quarters. As long as there was a tub and a way to get hot water, I wouldn't complain.

Behind us, a handful of cats prowled just out of reach. I growled and they backed off a bit, for now. Damn cats… The things I do for friends…

I thought about Autolycus. I was going under the assumption that he stole whatever it was he stole from Artemis on purpose. What was he thinking? I know he's good, but no one is that good. I guess someone who calls himself the “King of Thieves” can't have the smallest of egos. He's usually more cautious—especially when it comes to the big stuff. I really needed to talk to him if I was going to help.

We arrived at the Regent's hut (which really wasn't much smaller than the Royal hut) and Dorcas bowed. “Your quarters, Queen Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle grunted and entered the torch light of the hut. I smiled apologetically at the kid. She turned up her nose. I scowled and moved inside.

Everything appeared how I remembered the Royal hut appearing, except that it was on a slightly smaller scale. The main room contained a small living area with tables and chairs. A kitchen was nearby with a large hearth. A separate room for sleeping and bathing could be seen beyond the entrance.

Several Amazons poured steaming water from a large cauldron into a medium-sized bath. Gabrielle walked into the room and quickly dismissed them. They jogged out of the hut, keeping a wide berth of me. Now that I was indoors, I was starting to get a real sense of why. I moved into the bedroom, hoping to be sunk within the gorgeous-looking bath water before you could say Joxer the Mighty.

I began removing my armor, finally starting to feel just how many scratches and bites those birds got around it. Gabrielle turned. Her mouth dropped open for a second then shut back up. She let out a quick, exasperated sigh. I gave her the ole eyebrow and stopped what I was doing. She seemed all hot n' bothered about something, so I thought I'd stir things up a little more. Don't ask me why.

“Yes, your majesty?”

She rolled her eyes, sighed again and then laughed in that if-I-don't-laugh-I'll-claw-your-eyes-out kind of way she does when she's angry. “Never mind. Just take your bath.”

I pouted. “Aren't you going to join me?”

I've never seen so many different emotions flash across someone's face so quickly. She really was upset about something. I tilted my head. “What is it, Gabrielle? Really.”

“I don't know…Tired, I guess…I'm sorry.”

“A bath will definitely help.” I smiled, pointing to the steamy tub. “Go on.”

I managed to peel off my armor. There was enough dried blood and gore to knit a couple of crows. I would definitely need to clean it up as soon as I could. My leathers weren't doing so well either. They get a little rank under the best conditions. I tossed them into a pile with my boots and turned.

Gabrielle had peeled off her green top and was folding it neatly. Her skin had been burnished a warm bronze by the sun, gradually yielding to softer tones of gold and even coral. I averted my eyes. They found their way back to her body—the subtle muscles in her shoulders; the tense plain of her stomach; the wondrous transformation from shoulder to long, golden neck. I closed my mouth, ignoring how dry it had become.

She began to remove her skirt and undergarments in one smooth, easy motion with a low bend at the waist. The muscles in her thighs and buttocks flexed in the warm firelight as she slipped the clothes from her body and then stood straight. The dancing flames poured across her, playing in the red-gold of her hair, or the gentle softness of her hips. I swallowed with difficulty.

With growing scrutiny, Gabrielle squinted at her skirt and the hole in it. She sighed. “I guess my top is going to get shorter if I want this hole fixed, huh?”

I blinked.

“Xena?”

“Uh…yup.”

She grinned, her face brightening. “Sounds like you need a bath too, huh?”

I smirked. “Uh…have you smelled me lately?”

In answer, the sound of several cats chimed in chorus just outside the hut. I slouched. Gabrielle laughed, climbing into the hot water. She let out a soft, almost unconscious purr. “Oh, Xena…you're gonna love this.”

I grinned and began removing my shift and underclothes. The gore had managed to find its way in there as well. I tossed the clothes into a pile and climbed in, quickly submerging myself. I popped up and Gabrielle splashed me right in the face.

When I cleared my eyes, she was smiling mischievously. I smirked. “What was that for?”

“For being a stinker.” She laughed.

“Ha ha.”

She pouted a little. “And for being so… Ugh…never mind.”

I started washing up and peeling away dried bits of crow and blood. “What's with you today, anyway?”

She splashed me again. I scowled. “Gabrielle, I'd cut that out if I were you.”

She splashed again, her smile sloping into a sneer.

“Really— stop it .” I was tired and found it harder and harder to stay calm.

“Or what? Huh? HUH?” More splashing accented her posturing.

Unable to hold back, I sprang up, water spraying and grabbed her wrists. With a twist I turned her around, making sure not to hurt, but only overpower. Her arms twitched uselessly in my grip.

“Xena!?!”

I held her close, her buttocks rubbing against me. I spoke into her ear. “Are you going to cut it out?” I whispered.

She was trembling. Her breathing became ragged and raspy, but not from pain. My grip loosened somewhat. Her head slumped back against my shoulder, neck offered. My lips parted.

A large urn that my crow-splattered shift had fallen upon crashed to the ground. A cat had snuck into the hut and was now running away with it between its teeth.

“My chakram! Gimme my chakram!”

“Xena, wait!”

I splashed out of the water and after the little menace. The cat trotted around the tub as I gave chase, triumphantly carrying my shift in its teeth. I gained on it and stretched my hands to clutch it.

In my years of doing all this (the hero thing, never mind being just being a warrior) I've faced gods, I've faced warlords, I've faced Bacchae, I've gone toe-to-toe with countless adversaries and were I to die, I could hold my head proud without a shred of shame in my prowess and skills.

Until this moment, that is.

Of all the foes I've faced, to be bested and embarrassed by a cat was certainly not the way I thought it would go.

I slipped—although, I believe this word isn't precise enough for what happened. It doesn't seem to evoke the graceless desperation, or the clumsy and frantic arm flaps coupled with the sheer speed of the actual loss of balance. Nor does it indicate the air time (at least a full second) and the soggy slap as I hit the ground.

The worst part wasn't that I had slipped and fallen and looked like an ass. It wasn't that I was naked and wet on the floor. It wasn't even that the cat sat just out of reach licking its paw, knowing the chase was over, the shift in a pile before it.

The worst part was: I started crying—sobbing, really. I guess after the fish, and the crows and the long trip, I guess I couldn't stop everything from just flowing out. Later, Gabrielle and I would chalk it up to all the strangeness that was going on, but at the time, I really felt miserable.

Or did I? I was crying, damn it. Why was I crying? “Why am I crying?” I looked around the room, as if I could find an answer. The fact that I couldn't find an answer fueled a new eruption of tears and choking, hacking sobs.

“Are—are you alright?” Gabrielle leaned over the side of the tub, a look of concern on her face.

“No…”

“You're not hurt, are you?”

Pause. “No.”

“Oh.”

I kept sobbing. Big, pathetic, undignified sobs. Then I heard her laughing; a deep, belly laugh that she was fighting a losing battle against. Later, she would blame the unusual circumstances, but I don't buy it. It made me more upset.

“Go ahead and laugh.”

“Xena, I'm sorry…it's just…you…” She burst into an endless giggle.

The cat rolled ecstatically in my shift. Composing myself with as few sniffles as possible, I got to my feet and began to dry off and get ready. “Fine, I just won't wear a shift to see Artemis.”

I wouldn't be surprised if they heard Gabrielle's laughter as far as the river.

* * *

VI. Accessorizing After the Fact

I have never before been so relieved to have a bath end in my life. I love hot baths, and given the amount of time we spend off in the bushes, a hot bath is a rare luxury to savor when the opportunity presents itself. There was very little savoring going on today. I honestly don't know what came over me. And I wondered about it as I dried my hair by the fire.

The water had felt glorious and I felt my gloom lift immediately. Wanting to break through Xena's mood, and given that splashing her had worked in the past… well, it just made sense at the time. Or it would have if my frame of mind hadn't taken an abrupt about-face. In some twisted way, it pleased me to see her getting angry. Well, why not? She'd been making me angry all day and that fluffy young bit of Amazon Xena had been ogling on our way to the hut didn't improve matters any. It wasn't jealousy. The girl was just way too young, if you ask me.

I pushed the cloth through my hair and then dried my ears, trying to figure out if I'd been deliberately provoking her, and if I had, then why? I felt a heat that had nothing to do with the flames as I remembered the feel of her hands on me, the careful yet unbreakable grip, as she pulled me against her. My skin tingled at the memory of her smooth, firm body pressed against my back, the warm water slick and intimate between us. I tried not to feel it now, to banish the memory of the thrill I felt in that dangerous moment.

The cloth was damp against my face, cooler than the fire and I pressed it to my eyes to take refuge in momentary and illusory darkness. It was a temporary relief from the unaccountable rush of confused emotion I'd been feeling all day.

“I'm not wearing this.”

Startled by Xena's voice, I pulled the towel down in time to see her appear from behind the dressing screen. An acorn colored leather brassiere overlaid in metal studs, black feathers and chain, along with a low-slung, mid-thigh length skirt and knee-high soft boots of a similar shade completed her ensemble. She stood before me, glowering, her hair slicked back from the bath and her bronzed skin fairly glowing in the firelight. The outfit accented the curves of waist and breasts, and threw her muscular definition into clear relief, exposing parts of her not usually visible for examination. I was absurdly shocked to once again discover she had a navel, and a very soft looking one at that. The further lowering of her brows reminded me that a response was required and I nearly bit my tongue off when I snapped my jaw closed. “Um, what's wrong with it?” I managed to ask. “It looks great.” What a gross understatement.

“It chafes. Why did you give them my stuff?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips and ignoring my question.

“Because you can't go to an audience with a god smelling like a week-old pig carcass!”

Xena turned away from me and stalked across the hut to retrieve her weapons. “Ares never minded,” I think I heard her mutter.

“I'm not surprised; he probably gets off on that kinda thing,” I snipped, unable to stop myself.

Her head whipped around and I braced myself for the stinging comeback. With effort she reined herself in and instead gathered up a spare towel on her way to a chair. The thin line of her mouth tightened as she regarded the state of her weapons. She sniffed at the chakram and pulled her head away quickly, her face wrinkling in disgust.

I closed my eyes, wondering why I was feeling so on edge and unsettled. Just as worrisome was Xena's earlier outburst. She'd fallen on her backside twice in one day and I suppose given the stresses of recent events it wasn't unthinkable that someone would get emotional about it. But this was Xena . Xena just doesn't do emotional.

That time of the moon? I knew better than to ask. Still, it'd been unnerving, and my own reaction even more so. I hadn't actually intended to laugh at her, but it was either that or start crying myself. “What is going on ?” I muttered, frustrated and bewildered.

“What?” Her attention remained on her weapons, but her phenomenal hearing still caught it.

“Something seems really… off.”

“I'm cleaning this stuff as fast as I can. I can't help that it smells.”

“No—well, yes, that still stinks—but I mean, all the stuff that's been going on lately.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“I've never seen you… I mean, you've never… at least not like that .” One really shouldn't suggest that big, tough warriors sob like children.

“I know.” Xena's voice was flat and hard.

I winced, knowing her ego was likely feeling raw. As always, my first instinct was to try to help. “Y'know, it's okay to cry when you have a bad da--”

“Gabrielle.”

“—y. There's lots of time I've felt like crying. Like after that day we spent walking through all those hills only to find the pass blocked? It was so hot and humid, and we'd run out of food, and I knew we had to walk all the way back. Well, I had to walk, you had Argo, not that it bothered—”

“Gabrielle.”

“—me. I was so tired and sore and bug-bitten, I just wanted to wrap myself in my blanket and bawl my—”

“Gab-ri-elle!”

Oops.

“I know it's okay. But it wasn't okay today. It felt… wrong.”

“Wrong?”

Xena stood up and carried her weapons to the tub. The leather skirt hugged and fluttered across her thighs as she walked, and I admit to being mesmerized. But only by the pure novelty of it. Really. The outfit reshaped Xena's normally dangerous presence into something more primal and animalistic, and the firelight off her cheekbones and light blue eyes seemed distinctly cat-like. The muscles of her thighs and belly visibly bunched and flowed as she leaned over the now-cool water and swished her weapons through it, and I felt my breath catch.

“All those animals, you, me… It's obvious something's happened, but I can't get a finger on what it is yet. We have to be on our guard. Whatever's gone wrong is influencing our emotions and making us behave almost irrationally.”

“Like splashing you in the tub,” I said immediately. “I couldn't get myself to stop even though I knew it was making you angry.”

Xena nodded slowly.

“Do you think it's Ares?”

“No.” She pulled her sword and chakram from the water, grimacing at the water running from their surface. Hours upon hours of watching Xena care for her gear left me well acquainted with her methods. Wet metal was bad. The first chance that presented itself, she'd be meticulously oiling them again to guard against rust. There wasn't time now; she merely wiped them down and slid her blade home in its scabbard. “This isn't his style. It feels way too… random. Undisciplined.”

“Aphrodite?” Our run-in with her recently had been interesting, but left a bad taste in my mouth. Joxer as a hero was something I was still trying to find a way to record in my scrolls.

Xena shook her head. “I'd say no, but for the fish.”

“They were fresh, at least.” A giggle popped out of my mouth before I could stop it. I gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry?”

“Uh huh,” she drawled, one brow lifting. “I better not being hearing that one re-told in a tavern a month from now.”

I put on the most innocent, bland and well-intentioned expression I could. She grunted and turned away, which I took to mean it needed work yet. A change of subject was clearly in order. “So if it's not Ares, and probably not Aphrodite, who could it be?”

“Let's solve this problem with Autolycus and then find out. Ephiny didn't say when Artemis planned to execute him, and I want to see him as quickly as I can.”

“He'll be in the barracks, but even as Queen, I'm not sure they'll let me in. We'll have to see Artemis first.”

I watched her rig a strap for her scabbard across her back and another for her chakram at her hip. She gave herself a once over, snorted in disgust at her outfit, and then waved me to precede her toward the door. “C'mon. Let's go pay a visit.”

“Wait.”

She stopped and looked at me expectantly. “What now?”

I yanked it loose from the seam of the scabbard, held the fluffy little crow feather up for her inspection and grinned. “You missed one.”

+=+=+

“Queen Gabrielle and her champion, Xena of Amphipolis,” the herald's voice rang out.

I waited for the slender woman to step aside before moving into the middle of the unofficial audience area of the Queen's quarters. Xena followed closely at my shoulder looking stony and unbending. Two more steps took me to the edge of the bear rug where I dropped lightly to one knee, bending my head in respectful deference to the goddess who, legend held, oversaw the fate of the Amazon Nation.

Wood creaked, and I heard Artemis rise to her feet. “What disrespect is this?” Her voice was both lighter and harder than I'd expected, and I was taken aback by the whiplash of her words. Stung, I looked up, wondering how I'd already managed to offend her. She was younger looking than I expected, with short cropped hair and a single, long braid twined with a dark green ribbon hanging from her temple. Her face was severe, sharply cut along the jaw, and she moved with an athlete's grace as she approached, fluid and sure. I was both relieved and worried when I discovered she wasn't talking to me at all.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Xena was still standing straight and tall behind me, her face expressionless but for her eyes where I could see the faintest hint of amused defiance. Oh, no…

“My…” How does one address a goddess? “My lady, I'd ask a boon of you.”

Artemis ignored me, walked right past me, until she stood toe-to-toe with Xena. Tall as she was, Xena was taller, and I could see that the slight difference irked the goddess who stood taller than the others in the room. Xena noted the difference also, and Artemis' reaction to it, her lips holding the ghost of a smirk.

“You are not Amazon.” It was a challenge, not a question.

“That's right,” Xena answered easily, unperturbed by the goddess' ire.

“Why are you here?”

I could feel the temperature in the room rising, and had a gut premonition that neither of them would be inclined to back down. Time to step in… “She's my champion.”

“I am aware of that.” Artemis turned to look at me for the first time, judging, evaluating, her granite eyes beholding me in a way that made me feel unaccountably vulnerable. Dragging her eyes away, she returned her attention to Xena. “Answer my question.”

“You've locked up my friend. I wanna know why.”

“Your friend is a lying thief and a voyeur!”

The thief part, sure, but a voyeur? I knew Autolycus had an appreciation for women…

“He refuses to tell me where he put my belt!” the goddess railed. “Were that not enough, he also spied on me while I bathed. I demand retribution!”

I exchanged looks with Xena. “You want to kill him because he allegedly saw you in the altogether and took your clothes?” When I said it out loud, I had to admit that it seemed a little creepy. I'd have slapped him, myself.

“No man may lay eyes upon me. Even you, not Amazon born, should know this.” Her scorn raked me.

Xena moved closer, towering over us both from behind my left shoulder. “Peeking at your parts is hardly reason to kill a man.” Her fingers came up to rest lightly against my back, and even without them I could feel the tension she radiated. “Neither is getting a piece of clothing stolen. Why not just replace it?”

“It's not an ordinary belt,” I breathed, suddenly remembering my lore. “Is it?”

Artemis shook her head, her lips thinning to a narrow line. “I need it back immediately.”

“What's so special about this belt?” Xena asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

The goddess turned away and walked slowly back up to what would have been my chair. Not certain if Artemis was going to answer or not, I said, “It embodies what she represents.”

“High-handed obnoxiousness?” Xena hazarded sarcastically.

I smacked her shoulder. “No!”

“She means ,” Artemis broke in tightly, “the belt personifies and amplifies my powers; chastity, discipline, my influence over nature and the hunt are all contained within it.”

Well, doesn't that explain a few things? I saw from Xena's expression she was thinking the same thing. “And just what happens when you're without it?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Artemis' jaw worked. “If I don't get it back by the full moon during Brauronia, I'll lose my godhood.”

“But you're still a goddess now?” I asked, clasping my hands behind me and walking closer to her.

“My power and control… is waning.” Artemis shifted in her chair, her left hand curling into a fist on the armrest.

Xena rubbed at a reddened patch of skin sporting a gash from our run-in with the crows. “You don't say.”

“Xena,” I tsked. “So all the animals we've seen acting strangely—”

“Who've attacked us,” Xena corrected in a mutter.

I shot her a look, but continued. “—this has to do with your loss of the belt?”

“Yes.”

“And if someone else uses it?” Xena asked.

“If I don't get it back, then whoever has stolen it will obtain my powers and perhaps be a minor deity in their own right.”

Memories of Velasca's rampage sprung fearfully to mind and I turned to Xena to see her looking unmoved by Artemis' plight. I wasn't surprised; she didn't have much sympathy for any of the gods given the antics they got up to sometimes. But this went beyond just Artemis; nature—and us, too, it seemed—were in jeopardy as a result of her loss.

Xena crossed the room and settled herself in another chair, making the herald glare at her for daring to sit in Artemis' presence without permission. Further, she reached into the fruit bowl on the side table and retrieved an apple for herself. “If Autolycus stole it, why won't he give it back?” she asked, taking a noisy bite.

This did nothing to improve Artemis' mood. She came to her feet, pacing near me. I felt her looking me over, taking in the design of the soft, rust-colored outfit I wore. “He won't tell me,” she seethed. “Gabrielle, I want satisfaction. You are my Queen. I demand you uphold the laws of the Nation.”

“W-what?” My blood ran cold.

“He refuses to return the belt to me. He will pay the price of his crime.”

Another soft crunch of fruit. “And what if he didn't steal it?” Xena asked casually, examining the marbled skin of the apple. “Do you know for sure? Did you see him do it?”

“I followed his tracks from the river and found him shortly after in the woods. What arrogance! He was sitting under a tree. It was a simple matter to bring him back to the village.”

Xena stood up sharply, startling me. “I wanna see him. Now.”

“You dare make demands of me?”

“I'm not asking you; I'm telling you,” Xena clarified. With that, she turned and gave me a look, pulling me to her side with her eyes as she headed for the door. I heard an outraged sound behind me, but kept walking, wondering what else could happen next.

* * *

VII. Between a Frock and a Hard Place

I knew she would back down.

If Autolycus wasn't talking to Artemis, it was in her best interest to let him speak with someone that he might be inclined to. Of course, she couldn't just ask for help and had to prance around like she really had a choice in the matter. I just decided to skip the dance and go straight to the good stuff.

The village was still bustling with activity, Amazons rushing about in preparation. With arms full of decorations, or food, or ceremonial weaponry they'd lope along, slowing for a moment as they approached to nod, or grin. Gabrielle snorted behind me.

“Guess they like your costume.”

“Not another word.”

We continued toward Ephiny's temporary quarters. Gabrielle furrowed her brow. “So, we talk to Autolycus, get him to return the belt, then convince Artemis to spare his life, right?”

“I have a feeling things aren't going to play out that easy.”

The bard groaned. “Figures. Y'know, just once why can't it, huh?”

I stopped and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Gabrielle shook her head letting out a tense growl. “I'm just saying that why can't things work out the easy way for once, that's all.” She looked to me incredulously. “Is that too much to ask?”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “We're dealing with a Goddess, the King of Thieves and a village full of Amazons. Just on the cusp of a full moon. How did you expect things to work out?”

“Good point.” She smiled.

Ephiny poked her head out of her hut, spotted us approaching, darted back inside then stuck her head out again, only to quickly dart back in once more.

“Ephiny, we saw you,” Gabrielle chuckled.

“Yeah, get out here.” I crossed my arms.

The Regent of the Amazon nation slowly opened her door and began tapping along its frame. Her grin fell crooked from her sheepishness. “Just…uh…checking for wood mites…”

“I see.” Gabrielle nodded. “We need to see Autolycus.”

“Now.” I added, by way of encouragement.

Ephiny straightened, let her eyes travel the course of our outfits and then straightened again. “And Artemis—”

“—Has given us permission,” I finished.

“Sort of.” Gabrielle added.

Ephiny raised an eyebrow then shrugged. “Well, whatever. Follow me.”

She led us toward the northern edge of the village. We passed many makeshift campsites along the way. There seemed to be an abundance of guests at the festival, and not enough sleeping quarters. The visitors didn't seem to mind sharing accommodations, though, often sleeping three or four to a tent, judging by the giggles that could be heard. Soon, I was able to recognize the area around the Amazon barracks and holding cells. Eponin and Solari stood watch outside. They both smiled, then smiled wider as we approached.

“Something funny?” I asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Eponin smirked, trying not to eyeball our outfits.

Gabrielle nodded to them. “We're here to speak with Autolycus.”

Solari darkened, gripping her spear. “Artemis forbids any contact with the defiler.”

I smirked. Autolycus would like that one. Ephiny stepped forward. “The Goddess has allowed it in this instance.”

Reluctantly, they stepped aside. Eponin looked with embarrassment to the ground. “We're sorry, your majesty.”

Gabrielle waved it off. “You were just doing your job.”

We entered, Ephiny leading the way to the cells. All were empty, save one—the last, small and cramped. Crumpled uncomfortably in the corner, making the room seem even smaller than it was, was Autolycus. His head, somewhat scuffed and bruised, leaned back against the cell. He seemed to be mumbling to himself about something.

I smirked. “Nice digs.”

While he remained composed, Autolycus' initial brightening gave away how relieved he truly was to see us. He smoothed his moustache. “Only a temporary inconvenience, of course.”

“Of course,” Gabrielle mocked. She nodded to Ephiny, who opened the cell door and let us in.

“If you need me…” The Regent indicated while walking away.

The King of Thieves smirked, watching Ephiny leave. He spoke brashly for her benefit as she moved out of earshot. “Really Xena, I appreciate the gesture but—”

I picked him up by the collar. “What in Tartarus were you thinking? Stealing from a Goddess?”

“That's a dumb idea even for you,” Gabrielle chimed in.

He looked embarrassed for a brief moment, then grinned. “Well ladies, sometimes a master becomes bored with the same old tired and trivial fare and finds himself forced to branch out toward newer challenges…challenges more befitting the skills of—”

“You didn't know it was hers, did you?” Gabrielle finished.

He sighed. “Didn't have a clue…”

I let him go. Gabrielle shrugged. “Okay, well now you do. Why not give it back and we'll ask Artemis to forgive you?” She looked at me. “Shouldn't be hard, right?”

He fidgeted. “Well, Gabrielle, y'see…it's uh…the situation is somewhat complicated…uhm…vis-à-vis the belt…”

“You don't have it.” I voiced what had been my suspicion all along.

He slouched. “Nope.”

I crossed my arms, growing impatient. “Then who does?”

“Xena ,” he said with a coy smile. “I'm flattered that you hold my abilities in these matters in such high regard, but to be honest I didn't have the time to sell it…before…” He seemed to have a bad taste in his mouth. “Before…”

Ever curious, Gabrielle leaned forward. “Before?”

He backed up, growing pale. “…Before…”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Before …”

“Before I had it stolen from me .” He slumped dejectedly against the back wall, sliding dramatically to the floor where he landed with a pathetic little plop. He poked gingerly at the goose-egg on his forehead. “Got this big bump on my head too,” he whined softly.

I looked to Gabrielle. She was trying hard not to laugh, and while the situation was rather humorous, the implications and consequences weren't—especially for Autolycus.

I walked over to him. “Let's see that head wound.”

“Aw, it's nothing. I deserve worse for being so careless…Pft! Me: the King of Thieves getting bonked on the head in the middle of the forest…”

“Mm-hmm,” I looked at the wound. There was an odd elliptical shape to the impact point. “And where did this happen exactly?”

He looked puzzled. “Mm…having trouble remembering, actually. I think it was close, though.”

Gabrielle moved in. “Could you show us?” I raised an eyebrow, impressed. She read my mind.

He shrugged. “I suppose.”

I straightened. “Okay then, sit tight and we'll go see if we can talk some sense into the Goddess.”

Gabrielle called for Ephiny as she opened the cell door.

“Put in a good word,” he added as we began to leave. “I'm just too dashing to die like this.”

I slammed the door. Gabrielle rolled her eyes and we followed Ephiny out of the building. The Regent turned. “Shall I escort you back to—”

“We're going to see Artemis again.” I said. “Now.”

Gabrielle shifted apologetically. “Uhm…take us to her, please, Ephiny.”

Ephiny sighed then shrugged. “Well, whatever. Follow me.”

The village continued to bustle with activity. Lithe dancing had sprung up in pockets, backlit by the flicker of large cooking fires.

I nudged Gabrielle. “Looks like the festival is starting early.”

She smiled up at me, her face aglow with dancing flame. I blinked for a moment, the heat of the fires reaching my cheeks. We soon arrived at the Queen's quarters. Ephiny nodded to the guards and then turned to us. “I'll announce you.” She disappeared inside.

Gabrielle turned to me, leaning in close to whisper. “I sure hope you have a plan, because I don't.”

“I think I can wing it.” I winked.

She looked confused for a moment, then shook her head. “That makes me feel so much better.”

Ephiny appeared at the door. Right away I knew something was wrong. She approached, wringing her fingers. “Uhm…the Goddess will see you now…it's just…”

Gabrielle and I exchanged a look. The bard gestured for Ephiny to get on with it. “It's just, what?”

Swallowing with difficulty, the Regent shrugged, avoiding any eye contact with me. “She will only meet with Gabrielle.”

* * *

VIII. A Queen in the Hut's Worth Two in a Bush

“What?” Panic grabbed my stomach and put a knife to its throat. I shot a pleading look at Xena, who looked equally taken aback, before appealing to our friend. “Ephiny—”

“No way, Gabrielle. She was very clear that she only wants to see you. I'm not gonna to be the one to tell her different.”

So much for Xena's ‘winging it' plan. Agitated, I began to pace. “What am I going to say to her? ‘Hi, Artemis, do you mind if we borrow the prisoner you wanna execute? We'll bring him right back, I promise.' She's never going to believe that one.”

Xena shook her head, looking angry, but resigned. “You're going to have to convince her.” Given what was at stake, I gathered from her comment that Xena was going to take the low-profile route. “You can do this. Talk her into it.”

“But what if I say something that makes her want to kill him sooner?” It wasn't an unreasonable comment; I'd known several warlords who had wanted to kill me sooner after I'd started talking to them.

She took me by the shoulders, turned me towards the door, and said, “He's counting on you, Gabrielle.” And with that, she shoved me gently towards the entrance. No pressure, right?

I pushed aside the skin acting as a screen and stepped into the familiar confines of the Queen's hut. Candles had been lit to augment the light thrown by the fire pit, and in the soft glow I examined the room more closely, curious to see what goddesses left lying about. Except for a tray of food, presumably a dinner offering, I could see nothing that screamed “Made on Mt Olympus.” Well, I suppose that figured. “I'd be paranoid to leave anything around now, too,” I muttered under my breath, nervous at finding myself alone.

In mid-step I felt a caress run across my body, like the touch of cool water on a hot day, and it raised the hair on my arms and preceded the waft of pine and musk that suddenly filled my senses. I shivered in reaction and gasped quietly. Was this what Xena felt when Ares was near?

“Gabrielle.”

The darkness off to one side of the room called my name and I looked towards it to see Artemis emerging with a silent stride from the shadows in a dapple of mystical light.

“My lady.” I hesitantly bobbed my head, wondering how formal I should be on this occasion.

She looked at me and smiled, and it transformed her face from sulking intensity to mischievous amusement. Gliding closer, I felt her eyes stroke me and I glanced away, unable to maintain her gaze. “I'm pleased you came back to see me.” She brushed by me, a scent of jasmine and honeysuckle trailing enticingly behind her as she grasped a decanter and poured out an equal measure for two. Returning to my side, she offered a cup. “Did your friend get any further answers from the thief?” I may have been mistaken, but I thought I heard a harder edge enter her voice when she referred to Xena.

“No—well, in a way,” I answered. “Autolycus didn't know he was stealing from you—”

“And ignorance negates his crime?”

Damn. Stepped right into that one. “No,” I conceded, and took a sip of my drink to buy me a moment of thought. Wine, light and sweet, rippled over my tongue. “It doesn't, but he regrets his actions—”

“Regrets getting caught, you mean.”

“—and told us that as much as he would like to give it back, he can't. Someone else stole it from him.”

Artemis smiled wryly. “A likely story.”

“You don't believe him?”

“No. He was alone, as I said earlier, and sitting beneath a tree, carefree as you please.”

“But what about the wound on his head?” Gabrielle pointed out. “He didn't do that to himself. Did you happen to notice any other footprints besides the ones you were tracking?” From the way her brows contracted, I knew I'd offended her ego. I rashly wondered if that might be a target to aim for again.

“There were no others. His fate is decided. Now,” she said, decisively, trying to replace the stern frown with a gentler smile, “let us discuss something more pleasan—”

“Can you be certain?”

“Yes.”

I could tell by the exasperation in her voice that I was pushing her, but I couldn't give up. “I'd like to see the spot for myself, if you don't mind. I mean, you never know; you were angry and distracted, and maybe something went un—”

Her expression as she listened to me changed, the anger morphing into intrigued fascination with the speed of a startled deer. “Your beauty calms me. ”

“—noti…uh… pardon me?”

“My restlessness ebbs in your presence, Gabrielle. You possess an artlessly graceful and natural beauty that I think I could look on for hours.” Artemis glided closer and lifted a hand to stroke the long strands of hair at my shoulder. “Honeyed wheat…” Fingers traced the air over my gaze. “…clover eyes…” Artemis circled me and I felt a pair of warm palms against my back before they slid down to rest disconcertingly on hips. “…supple strength and glorious womanhood. You could easily be mistaken for one of my nymphs, Gabrielle.”

Whoa! I felt the heat of her hands through my leather skirt and I scooted away, intent on distancing myself from this rather intense examination. I set my wine down on a side table. For some reason I got the impression I might want to have my hands free, just in case. “I'm flattered by the compliment, my lady, but I'd still like to talk about Autolycus…”

“Artemis. Call me Artemis.” She set down her own cup and followed me slowly, something about the set of her head, the confident sway of her body, putting me on my guard. “Please, Gabrielle, you must see that I cannot allow him to live. To do so would show weakness and others might think they can take advantage of me, and of the Nation, as easily in the future.”

I took a few discrete steps backwards, putting a chair between the two of us. “I wouldn't confuse weakness with compassion. Or mercy. Is there no room in your heart for forgiveness?”

She turned away from me, pacing slowly to my left, her hands clasped behind her back. “You've a gentle soul. An innocent soul. I fear you know less of human nature than you think you do.”

“I know it's wrong to kill a man for seeing you naked.”

Artemis stopped and lifted her gaze to meet mine. “But he doesn't deny he stole from me? In any market in Greece a thief would lose a hand at least. Shall I maim him instead? Is that the clemency you'd ask for him? Given how he carried on when I found him, I don't think he'd be one to last long if he were unable to indulge in his…profession.”

“But—”

“No!”

This wasn't going well at all. If I wasn't careful she might march out to the barracks and kill him herself right now to prove her point. “He wants to make amends.”

“So he's sorry he was caught and now he wants to make it better so I can let him loose to do this again?”

Pretty much? No, no… can't say that. “Autolycus has a good heart. He's not a cruel or malicious man. He's done good in the past and if given a chance he could do that again. Now. For the good of the Nation.”

Artemis looked skeptical as she approached. “The Nation.”

“Without him Xena would never have returned from the dead.”

From the look on the goddess' face, this wouldn't have been a tragedy. “I fail to see the connection.”

With only a little space between us I realized belatedly that she'd flanked me, her hand reaching out to rest on the back of the chair next to mine, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her skin. My insides tightened and I pulled away, fidgeting with the ornate belt at my waist. I tried to ignore how closely she followed me.

“I don't shed blood. I think there has to be a different path than that of the sword. I think the Amazon traditions will eventually be our undoing if we don't find a way to evolve and integrate ourselves into the world. Isolation will prove our downfall if we can't form alliances and end old feuds. Look at what would have happened with the Centaurs if we hadn't stepped in.” I let that statement hang in the air before adding, “If she hadn't come back, I'd have ruled over the Nation here instead of Ephiny. Can you imagine what I might have done if I'd been here to form policy?”

She paused; her jaw shifted from left to right though the rest of her expression remained neutral.

“Maybe I'm getting tired of the road,” I considered aloud. “Maybe Xena and I could use a rest, a permanent spot to call home for a few years. Maybe for the rest of our lives. We could probably do a lot of good for the Amazons. I could show them a different path, a peaceful path, and with Xena, given all she knows, we could make changes—”

“No! You cannot change eons of history!”

“You have no idea what I can do!” I was a little surprised by my own vehemence, but I was used to a more stubborn will than hers.

I found myself gripped suddenly by the arms, Artemis' flinty grey eyes boring down into mine. “You dare to blackmail me?”

“I want to see the spot where you found him. And,” I said, pausing to lick my dry lips, “I want him to come with us.” Her grip loosened a little and I could feel her fingers caressing my skin while she considered the situation. Standing this close to a goddess and being held by her, I found myself unaccountably breathless.

“There will be conditions,” Artemis replied at last.

“Which are?”

“If he is to accompany you, then I will lead you there myself. I won't have him escaping.”

Other than Xena being furious at being babysat, I think she could live with that. “Okay. Was there something else?”

“You, not Ephiny, must dance with me at the height of Brauronia.”

Taken by surprise, my mouth opened but nothing came out. The way she was looking at me as she laid out this particular condition was a mix of satisfaction and hunger, and her eyes never left my face.

“Well?”

Well… aside from Ephiny’s reaction and my own lack of coordination, what was the harm in a dance? “Okay.”

She smiled suddenly, the earlier expression evaporating in a wash of happiness. Artemis squeezed my arms gently and then released me. “Excellent. We'll leave as soon as the prisoner is prepared. See to it, Gabrielle, and then notify me when the party is ready.” And then she rippled out of sight, covered for a moment in a fall of breezy sunshine before that too disappeared.

Artemis had seemed awfully happy with my capitulation. What on earth had I done?

There wasn't any harm in a dance.

Right?

* * *

IX. The Game is Afoot

“What did you say?” I asked Gabrielle. I was willing to entertain the possibility that my hearing could be affected by Artemis' dorky belt and that she didn't just say what I thought she said.

Her gulp was both visible and audible. She put up her hands in a pacifying gesture, which was sweet, but futile. “Now, Xena, look…it was the only way I could get her to agree to spare Autolycus' life.” She crinkled her nose. “Well...for a little while anyway...but we'll figure something out.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “That's what you wanted, right?”

I crossed my arms, my eyebrow raising. "A dance?"

She nodded, reassuring me. "A dance."

There wasn't any harm in a dance.

Right?

"Just a dance?"

Gabrielle looked away for a second, to give her credit: a very quick second then looked at me again. "Just a dance."

"Hmm..." I thought about it. We were basically getting everything we wanted out of this, except that 'Hatchet Face' was coming along for the ride. Autolycus was given some more time, we were given more time to help him out, it seemed like Gabrielle worked out a pretty sweet deal for us here. I guess I could get over having an annoying and useless presence tag along—thanks to all the practice with Joxer lately. The situation was pretty much where I wanted it to be, all things considered.

Then why wasn't it sitting right with me?

Gabrielle was nervous, that's why. Was she worried about the dance? A bard getting stage-fright? Highly unlikely. Terpsichore knows Gabrielle never missed a chance to be the centre of attention—so it wasn't the dance. What was it?

I inspected the laces of one of my bracers, playing nonchalant. "So...uh...what's this Brauronia dance thing you and Artemis are going to do, huh?"

Gabrielle flushed a little. "Well...the dance celebrates nature and all of its...uhm...r-regenerative qualities..." Her fingers were in knots. "In dance...to music..."

"Oh yeah? So what do ya have to do, jump around pretending you're a rain cloud and she's the Earth and you sprinkle sparkles on her to make her grow or something?"

The bard laughed nervously. Another pause. "No. No... not like that..." She turned away. "Definitely not like that," she mumbled.

I let it go. For about two seconds.

I fiddled with my chakram and stared at the faint stain of bird poop on my boot. "So what is it?" Why was I doing this? I knew what 'Hatchet Face' was after, it was pretty damn obvious from the moment we walked into town she was after one thing and one thing only—and it sure as Scylla wasn't just her belt. Maybe all this craziness was getting me a little too hot under the collar about it.

"Well..." Gabrielle began, her forehead as creased and choppy as the sea. "It...uh...it's meant to be an interpretive sort of dance...so...it's not like we...uhm...play any sort of recognizable roles..."

I looked up from my boots. Standing there, by the fire, she looked so conflicted, so helpless. Why was I doing this, especially to her? I stepped toward her. "Gabrielle, I..."

So what if Artemis was being completely unreasonable and wanted to kill one of my friends just because he made her look like a dork? So what if she was tagging along with us, keeping an eye on every little thing we do, making her little quips and comments and throwing in a whole lot of I-told-you-so's? So what if a goddess (of chastity, I might add), was using the predicament to blackmail my best friend into a compromising situation that may lead to gods know what? So what if she was going to get Gabrielle to perform some wildly sensual, fire-lit dance, where the two of them spend hours bathing in special oils and then painting their bodies up in honey-scented paints and dyes just to get ready to thrash around and rub around together to the beat of pounding, primal drumming under a full moon in front of a crowd of rutting Amazons?

So. Frikkin'. What.

"Xena?" Gabrielle blinked at me. "What is it?"

My jaw hurt. I unclenched it. I grabbed my gear and headed out. "Come on, Twinkle Toes, we've got a belt to find."

=+=+=

After we rendezvoused with Artemis and poor Autolycus, he led us into the southern woods bordering the Nation. We trekked in a southwesterly path for a couple of hours. Not much happened. Artemis kept trying to impress Gabrielle with her little tricks. It wasn't working. At least, it didn't appear to be working. I had other things to worry about and I wasn't going to play babysitter.

We continued along. The King of Thieves seemed a little quiet, so I fell in beside him.

"You okay?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Hm...Am I okay? Am I okay? Well... Let's see..." He began counting off on his fingers. "I let the biggest score of my life slip through my fingers. It turned out to be the belt of a very vengeful—and man-hating, I might add—goddess, who wants to carry out various unspeakable and painful punishments upon me before finally killing me. If she doesn't get it back, some madman will have the power of an Olympian god and probably wreak all manner of havoc upon the earth—because, let's face it, it's never just a simple farm-boy with a heart of gold type that ends up with one of those, right? I've been in an Amazon jail, I smell horrible, look terrible—hard to believe, I know, but take my word for it. I have a headache thanks to this knock I took that might leave a scar. So...Am I okay?" He glared at me. "Just peachy. How are you?"

I smirked. "Some thanks I get for keeping you alive."

His mood darkened. "Yes, but for how long? I hate having to rely on the mercy of a goddess." He leaned in to whisper, adding a mirthless wink. "Especially one who's as tightly wound as she is, if you know what I mean?"

I found this a little more amusing than I normally would have. Okay, a lot more. I cleared my throat. "Look...would it help if you thought of it as your life being in our hands—mine and Gabrielle's?"

The King of Thieves rolled his eyes, his hand straying near his beltline. "At least this time my bodily functions are safe." He pointed ahead. "It's just beyond there."

I turned to gather Gabrielle and the goddess. They were nowhere in sight.

I took a deep breath. It didn't work. I took another.

"Where'd they go?" Autolycus asked.

"Son of a Bacchae." I muttered through grit teeth. "Gabrielle?" I called out. "Gabrielle?"

Artemis and Gabrielle appeared farther down the path. "We're here," the bard called.

I stormed over to them. "And just where were you?"

Gabrielle smiled. "Artemis was showing me how to communicate with some of the woodland creatures."

"Oh," I said. "Really?"

The goddess smiled as if even the softest cheese wouldn't melt in her stinking little mouth. "Indeed, I was. Gabrielle is quite good at it." Keeping her eyes locked with mine, she finished, "She's a natural ."

"Oh...I think that squirrel was just being very patient with me. I wasn't that good, really." Gabrielle smiled bashfully. "Was I?" Was she blushing?

"You were, little one." Again Artemis spoke to Gabrielle, but leveled her sharp little face at me. "I suppose you don't receive compliments or encouragement on a regular basis?"

I took a deep breath. It didn't work. I took another. I think if this deep breath stuff actually works for you, you're probably not very angry. I forced a smiled. "Well...now...if we're all finished talking to the various creatures of the forest, pointy-faced or otherwise," I glared at Artemis, "Autolycus has led us back to the spot where the belt was taken."

I stormed away from them. "Son of a Bacchae." I muttered.

Autolycus was standing in a tiny culvert, shaded by many old trees. "Well...this is where—Woah! What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

I glared at him. "Drop it, or I drop you."

He put his hands up. "Okay, okay." He gestured to the area around him. "This is where it happened." He re-enacted the scene. "Got distracted by a noise, they snuck up on me and 'pow' I took one to the head." He dropped to the ground, on all fours. "I didn't even have time to fight for it—just ‘bam,' lights out."

I looked around. There were some tracks. There had definitely been a scuffle, and someone had definitely got the best of Autolycus. That wasn't odd. It didn't seem like more than one person that attacked him. Now, that was odd. The tracks headed to the northwest—to the slaver's camp Ephiny had mentioned, I figured.

Gabrielle and Artemis arrived. The bard approached. "Any luck?" she asked.

"Looks like slavers," I said. "The tracks head off to the northwest and the wound on Autolycus' head is from a cudgel I've seen them use before. It incapacitates rather than kills."

Autolycus ran a finger through his moustache. "Effective if you don't want to harm the merchandise too much, hm?"

"So Autolycus didn't do it." Gabrielle said.

The King of Thieves looked hurt. "What? You didn't believe me?"

"I didn't say that...I meant that we have proof now." She turned to the Goddess, who remained uncharacteristically mute.

I moved up beside Gabrielle, putting a hand on her shoulder but maintaining eye contact with Artemis. "It was pretty obvious given all the tracks everywhere. I'm surprised you didn't notice it yourself."

I think if looks could kill, I'd be in Tartarus right now. Even though looks were harmless enough, the one Artemis leveled at me stung a little. She regained her composure and wandered around the culvert, stopping at the tracks. She raised an eyebrow at us. "Slavers tend to move in groups. There's only one set of tracks here."

"It could've been a scout?" Gabrielle offered.

"Perhaps." Artemis crossed her arms. "Or perhaps that is what this thief wants us to believe."

"Madame, I'm flattered," Autolycus bowed. "But I'm a city boy, and not much of a woodsman. I wouldn't know how to throw anyone off of anything out here."

"You didn't seem to have any trouble dispossessing me of my property in my private forest glade, did you?"

"Oh, well..." Autolycus, always on the ready for compliments, waved his hands in a way that suggested that while this was in fact the case, it wasn't necessary to say so, because wasn't it all so blushingly embarrassing, but if she would like to continue...

"Look," I interrupted, wanting to head this off. "Scout or not, whoever took the belt seems to have headed off in the direction of the slaver's camp, I'd suggest we do the same."

Gabrielle nodded to the pointy-faced deity. "It does make sense, Artemis."

The new-found chumminess of being on a first-name basis with Artemis was not lost on me.

Artemis stood, unmoving. She closed her eyes for a brief second and then sighed. "Gabrielle and I will return to the village," Artemis spoke arrogantly. She looked to Autolycus and I. "And the two of you will journey to the slaver's camp."

To say I was angry would be like saying Mount Olympus is a gentle bump in the landscape. I strode over to her, stopping when we were eye-to-eye—well, I was taller so it wasn't exact. I don't think she liked that. "If you think you can use Gabrielle as a hostage, you've got another—"

"Xena, wait," Gabrielle got between us, and Artemis grinned at me over her shoulder. "I have my duties to perform in preparation for the...festival." She met my eyes, whispering to me. "I'll be all right."

I didn't even bother taking a breath. “Son of a Bacchae,” I muttered.

* * *

Continued in Part 3