PART 3

X. Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!

The walk back to the village was an exercise in constant wariness. I rubbed at the stiffness of my neck and wondered if I was going to have whiplash from constantly trying to keep an eye on Artemis' whereabouts. When not strolling with casual ease alongside of me, her darkly tanned arm brushing mine in spite of the width of the path, she was pacing with predator-like patience behind me. I couldn't help feeling like a skittish gazelle scenting lions on the breeze.

“Why don't you walk with me?” I suggested, hoping my voice didn't betray my nervousness. At least beside me, I wouldn't be wondering what she was up to and I could give my neck a rest. “You can tell me more about the… um… about…” Damn. Tired and frazzled to the point of distraction I couldn't come up with something simple and innocuous.

“Perhaps the dance?” Almost at once, Artemis was by my side, but the knowing looks she had given me since we arrived had disappeared beneath a solemn and earnest expression. “You will want to know more, especially given its importance in the coming days of the festival.”

I smiled weakly. “Right.” Honest, Xena, I'm not encouraging her. “The dance.” I could almost imagine hearing Xena's teeth grinding at just the thought.

“We'll bathe in special oils and adorn ourselves in the colors of nature and fertility.”

Fertility has a color? I wasn't sure I wanted to ask so I nodded instead.

“A child, a mother and an elder will each help us prepare for the rites, applying the paints and dyes; symbolic patterns written on both mortal and immortal flesh binding us and nature together and completing the circle…”

My head whipped around and I stared at Artemis in startled surprise. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Had she overheard? Was she mocking Xena on purpose? Either way, Xena's gonna freak. I cleared my throat. “And that's when we dance?”

The somber expression cracked and her warmest smile yet turned to greet me. It was amazing how much prettier Artemis was when she wasn't scowling. “Not quite. There will be a sacrifice, performed by your Regent. I had thought of using the thief, but obviously a substitute will need to be found now.” Artemis paused, looking rather put out at the necessary change of plans. “The sacrifice will be gutted and burned while the rites are sung.”

I couldn't help noticing the enthusiasm lighting her face. Personally, it made me shudder; the thought of some poor, defenseless animal being cut up and roasted for the sake of ritual was enough to make me feel ill. Oh Zeus, I hope I don't throw up at that point.

“Afterwards,” Artemis continued, “the fires will be lit and the drummers will play. The children will strew flowers before us as we lead the dance before the tribes. We will unite them; woman to nature, heaven to earth, god to mortal—”

The intensity of her gaze was hard to ignore and my skin tingled where her hand touched my bare arm in her earnest zeal.

“—Gabrielle, you and I will usher in the Amazons' most glorious age. Let this Brauronia be a new beginning from which we will spread out across the world once more and reclaim the land of our foremothers. We will be strong again. Skilled. Self-sufficient. Independent. Powerful. Even Rome would be wary of my daughters. Gabrielle, can you not share my vision?” She wrapped my hand in both her own and I barely noticed the warmth of them, so taken was I by the emotion in her voice, the way her eyes pleaded with me to understand. Breathlessly, I shuddered in apprehension, sensing a thread of war in the persuasive tapestry of her words. But, I had to admit, it was, by far, the least selfish statement I'd ever heard an Olympian deity ever make. Artemis had always struck me as very reserved by comparison and it seemed that she might actually care for the Amazons who revered her.

I tried to compose myself. “Artemis…” She drew nearer to me, and I felt myself drawn irresistibly off the path, turned and turned again until my back came to rest against the broad trunk of a tree.

“Gabrielle, you and I, we could do this.” She held my hand cupped to her chest, her supple fingers entwined with mine. I felt her return the squeeze of my fingers. “I admit to being headstrong, but it is with good reason. Women in a man's world… the Amazons must hold stubborn and firm against the tide; else they'll be swept away beneath the waves of history.”

“Artemis—” Her fingers gently silenced me.

“Your goodness, your beauty… the Amazons look to you, their eyes follow you. I've seen it. You've the heart of a tiger; as fierce with your words as an Amazon with a sword. We are warriors, but… perhaps there is room for your brand of diplomacy.”

I was reaching her without having to say a word and I couldn't help but smile. Artemis smiled back; a full, soft smile that smoothed the hard planes of her face and warmed the grey of her eyes. The transformation was so striking I felt the desire to stroke her cheek and barely caught myself, startled by the urge. What are we doing?

“If even a goddess can feel the force of your charm, Gabrielle, how can any nation think to stand against you?”

The distance between us dwindled further and my heart hammered abruptly in my chest. The tail of her braid tickled a trail of sensation across my chest as she leaned toward me. I opened my mouth to speak, to raise some kind of defense against this sense of pliancy that was stealing over me, but the tips of her fingers lightly traced over the edges of my lips, forestalling protest.

“Ours will be the brightest age,” she breathed. “Our confluence will be a thing of legends…”

Her words brushed across my lips and my own breath faltered. I was paralyzed, unable to either surrender or flee from her touch.

“…Gabrielle…” Her mouth savored my name.

My eyes, overwhelmed by the sight of her, shied away and, before she blocked out all view of the world, something caught my eye.

“Bear,” I mumbled, feeling distantly that I should be far more alarmed than I was.

Her hand was at my shoulder, stroking along the edge of the leather shoulder strap. “I will bare everything to you…”

The stink of musk, dead fish and urine assaulted my senses just as her lips tried to find mine, slapping me abruptly out from beneath her spell. Oh my gods. “Look out!” I shouted just as a huffing growl rattled the air. I shoved her hard to my left, just out of the path of the massive mitt swiping through the air right in front of my face. The fetid reek of animal and rot made my eyes water.

In a panic I whacked it hard on the nose with my staff. The bear yowled in pain and reared back, shaking its huge head and spraying saliva across the glade before it growled again. That was enough for me; I ran, grabbing Artemis' arm to drag her along as I passed. “ Tim e to go!”

“No!” Artemis pulled away from me. “I will calm her.” She raised her arms and locked eyes with the wild animal. “Be still, be silent!”

The bear had other ideas. Now furious in addition to being stinky, the creature lifted itself on its hind legs, magically tripling in height.

“Oh boy.” I hooked my fingers into the back of Artemis' top and yanked her backwards, forcing the goddess into a stumbling run just as the bear growled again. “C'mon!”

“Gabrielle! I'm trying to commune with her!”

“The only communing you're gonna do is with its claws!” I headed us off at the quickest pace I could, trying to remember Xena's advice about bears. Beyond the, “stay away from them. I mean it, Gabrielle!” part of her advice, I mean. “This way!” I jumped over a fallen log and headed for a sharp, rocky incline. We ducked branches and plowed headlong through a leaf-carpeted gully.

I could hear the she-bear grunting and panting behind us, apparently less bothered by the falling darkness than we were. My goal was in sight and I just hoped Artemis could keep up with me. Damn it. Xena makes this look so easy. “Take my hand!” Our hands slapped together and I couldn't tell if the sweat between our palms was mine or hers. “Hang on!”

With my heart in my throat I gauged the last few steps. “Jump!”

“What?!”

The earth dropped away beneath us and I released Artemis, hoping she could see the plan she was falling into. Branches and pine needles scraped against my skin as I scrabbled for purchase as we hit the tree.

Behind us, the bear stopped abruptly, her feet working at the ledge as she tried to halt in time, tumbling rocks and pebbles over the edge of the outcropping. Robbed of her prey, the bear stood impotently on the ledge and yowled at us. The tree swayed with our weight and I glanced down, seeing the trunk disappear into the craggy slope. We were stuck—but safe. I slumped with relief in the arms of the tree and finally let myself relax. I can't believe that actually worked.

Artemis, however, was climbing up past me, muttering angrily under her breath and making the tree shake alarmingly. I sneezed twice in rapid succession, the intense smell of pine filling my nose even as the needles rained down on me. “What are you doing?” I demanded. “We're safe right here.”

“She should have obeyed me!” The goddess looked prepared to throw herself back onto land.

“Stop!” I grabbed her boot. “Would you stay where you are? We're safe. Stop. Ow! Gods damn it! Your powers are fading; there's nothing you can do!”

She stopped struggling and in the twilight I could see her peer down at me between the branches. “They're not!” Her foot stomped the branch she was standing on, shedding more needles on top of me. “They're not, do you hear me? They're not, they're not, they're n…” Her expression fell, her brow folding beneath the pressure of some quaking emotion. My mouth fell open when she pressed a hand to her face, hiding her eyes as she began to sob hysterically. Shocked, I listened to her and the bear howl together in a bizarre kind of harmony.

“It… it'll be okay.” I reached up and awkwardly patted her foot. “We'll get your belt back.” Artemis sucked in a trembling breath and proceeded to cry even louder. Not to be outdone, the she-bear yowled again. I let out a sigh and rested my chin on my hand, bracing it on a convenient limb. “Go ahead. Let it out. I think we're going to be here for a while…”

Stuck in one place again, I realized. Hopefully Xena was faring better than us…

* * *

XI. It's Always Darkest before It's Pitch Black

“Hey, it happens to everyone, one time or another,” Autolycus comforted.

We were standing on the pebble dusted edge of a narrow river. The tracks had been easy to follow for the most part, pressing on into the west through the woods. Outside of an occasional bird diving for our heads, things had been quiet and I had tracked our belt-thief (a female, medium height, lightly shod, I might add) through the underbrush. Then we hit the river and I lost the tracks. That was half a candle-mark ago and I still hadn't picked them up. Even the spill of water sounded like it was laughing at me.

The King of Thieves continued to moonlight as an adviser. “Take a deep breath, try to relax and it'll come back to you.”

“Why's everyone always telling me to take a deep breath?” I asked, temper flaring. “It's not breathing I'm having trouble with.”

I paced along the riverbank staring down at the same ground, all of it blank and unreadable. In spite of the settling dusk the temperature was still uncomfortably hot, and it wasn't helping my frame of mind any that I was sweating like an ox. I shrugged inside my armor, trying to ignore the feverish sensation. It was a small mercy that the trees of the forest reached out across the river, joining branches with their kin on the other side and keeping the banks in a cool shade.

Autolycus moved in beside me, looking down at the same stretch of bank I was. “Okay, well, let's think back now,” he said, rubbing his moustache. “The tracks were strong and headed toward the river and you say you lost them somewhere just over there.” He pointed into the forest just behind us. “Yes, well, and there doesn't seem to be any tracks leading to the river, you say? Hmm…they just seem to disappear…that is definitely out of the ordinary…very peculiar… peculiar indeed…just disappear—”

“They're not the only thing that'll just disappear if you don't shut it and let me think.” His nattering was starting to get to me.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” He crossed his arms and stared at the ground again. Soon, his foot began to tap. Although it was easily one of the most difficult tasks of the day, I managed to ignore it and continued to try and find something, anything that would help. Autolycus began tapping lightly on some rocks. The tapping grew into full-on drumming.

I shot him one of my glares. He stopped with a sheepish shrug. “Heh. Sorry.”

I narrowed my eyes back to the pebbles and stones of the bank. Not a rock out of place. In the woods at the edge, the tracks seemed to vanish into thin air.

Beside me, Autolycus began to whistle, and not even a tune, just random whistles, each one like tiny pin pricks in my skull. He carried on, the whistles growing louder and louder. I had to do something, before he made me hurt him.

“Hey, chirpy.” I stood up. “I'm doing this for you, y'know? The guy who's in trouble with a Goddess? Big, bad Autolycus, the world renowned King of Thieves who goes around and stumbles into the biggest score in history since the Golden Fleece and certainly in his insignificant little life?”

“Xena I—”

“Then he goes and tromps off into the woods—with no clue what he had in his grimy little hands, I might add—and lets some little girl come and whack him on the head and take it.”

“A… girl ?” Autolycus looked hurt. “Listen there must have been at least two… well… hmm…” He looked embarrassed. “A girl, huh?”

My anger somewhat spent, I began to feel a little guilty. “Well, maybe not a girl, but a woman. That's what these tracks are saying. Well, were saying until I lost them.” There was something in my throat as I ended that sentence, so I turned away to clear it out.

Autolycus looked into the river. “Some of those slaver women are tough as Carthaginian leather...plus, I wasn't paying attention—” He turned toward me. “Hey, come on, Xena. Look, who cares if we lost the tracks.” He cautiously placed his hand on my shoulder letting it settle with a tentative weight. “Listen; there are three things a thief has to be good at: sneaking, running and leaping. Now, you can take these essential skills literally of course, but you can also think of them as figurative attributes as well.”

I smiled. “Becoming a philosopher in your old age?”

He shook his head. “Only better looking.” He chuckled. “As I was saying, we don't have any idea where the tracks are, but we do know which way they were headed, right?” He stopped. I blinked at him. He seemed frustrated. “Right?” he asked again.

I scowled at him. “Right.”

“So then we make a leap—of logic as it were—and assume that the…uhm…slaver queen kept on in the same direction—”

“Across the river.” I finished. Of course, that was it.

“See? A leap.” Autolycus grinned proudly.

I looked up into the overhanging branches. “Exactly.” I pointed up and smiled. “A leap.”

Autolycus whistled. “Thieves' highway, huh?”

Something about it sat wrong with me, but there was no time. “Come on, this isn't over yet. Maybe we can get to the slaver camp before nightfall.”

Beyond the river, the forest thickened as tall pines interlaced with the thick rooted oaks and elms we had encountered before. While I never found the tracks of our quarry, we soon came upon what were obviously the tracks of other slavers. At the tops of hills we were able to watch the rusty line of sunset shrink on the horizon.

Slowing our pace to a stealthy crawl, we came upon the camp just before nightfall. Spread out across a shallow valley, there were about twenty-five tents and four main campfires. At the four outlying corners tall torches flickered, casting orange light onto the forest and the ground. In the light, shapes could be seen moving about and voices carried off high into the falling dark.

Just away from the center of the camp was a large pen. There were poles covered with chains, cages, rocks—the standard slaver set up. Although, there didn't seem to be any slaves about. Probably lucky for these guys, now I wouldn't have to come back and break up this little get-together. Not until after the festival, anyway.

I watched the comings and goings. It was dinner and most in the camp were eating at the center of things. There seemed to be women among the men, dining and carrying on just the same. I spotted a woman who seemed to fit the size requirements of our belt thief, although it was hard to be certain from this distance. She entered a tent near the center of the camp.

“I think I found her,” I said.

“Now what?” Autolycus asked.

“What was the first thing that thieves are supposed to be good at?”

“Sneaking?” He didn't look happy about it. “Right. Well, if we have to.”

I smiled. “We could always head back to the Amazons and they could have your head on a stake by morning.”

“Hey, I didn't say I wasn't going to sneak in there,” he said. “I just thought you might afford me the professional courtesy of complaining a little. You know: I complain a little, you grunt in that charming sort of way warriors of your caliber do, then I shrug or sigh or both and we get the job done.”

I shrugged and grunted.

He smiled. “Y'see, now we're getting somewhere.” He sighed dramatically. “I guess there's nothing to be done except what needs to be done.” He winked and we moved down into the valley.

Getting into the camp wasn't that difficult. The slavers had a pretty lax perimeter guard system that was easy to penetrate. We slipped by when the two guards passed and ducked into the shadows behind a tent.

Now came the hard part; staying unnoticed. Saving the boring details, we managed to slip into the center of the camp and right up to the flap of the thief's tent. Autolycus listened at the entrance. “She's not here,” he whispered.

“Okay, let's get in there, get the belt and get out of here.”

Autolycus nodded. “I couldn't agree with you more.” He gestured at the flap. “Brains before beauty,” he said, bowing.

I scowled before entering. Inside we found what you might expect in a slaver's tent. Gaudy cushions. Exotic animal skin bedding. Brass lamps. Whips. Autolycus entered and immediately set about looking for secret compartments and hiding places while I checked the more obvious nooks and crannies. Nothing, belt-shaped or otherwise seemed to be turning up. That got me to thinking. “Any luck?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“None,” Autolycus replied. “Actually…just bad.”

I chuckled as I thought things out. It was the branches over the river that got me thinking.

“Uhm…Xena…” Autolycus wouldn't shut up.

“Shh.”

“Xena…really…I think you should…”

I turned around ready to throw one of the slavers' tacky knick-knacks at his head, when I saw what he was twittering about. In the doorway stood the woman we had seen moving through the camp, another of the slavers' tacky knick-knacks perhaps. She had a crossbow aimed at the King of Thieves who stood tight-lipped in the corner and her eyes were fixed on me.

“Which of the three skills covers this situation?” I asked.

Autolycus shrugged. “The unwritten fourth one: surrendering…” He raised his hands.

I know what you're thinking, and I thought it too at this point—why didn't Xena wait outside and guard the door? Good question. I blame the belt.

Sighing, I raised my hands.

* * *

XII. Nymphomania

Sitting in the tree, I had ample time to consider the unreality of the exchange Artemis and I had shared just before the bear had nearly taken her head off. “Okay, think it through,” I muttered to myself, trying not to disturb Artemis who had finally quieted down in the branches above me.

I was still mystified by my reaction earlier, by my inaction and by that curious sensation of teetering on the edge of something remarkably dangerous and wrong. Even more than that was the vague sense of shame I felt that I had never even given Xena a thought the whole time. I felt as though I had betrayed her by not trying harder to resist—whatever it was Artemis had intended. The blush warmed my cheeks. There was no denying it; I knew what she had wanted and some part of me had been flattered by it, attracted to her passion—for the future of the Amazons and, more still, for her interest in me.

It was like something had come over me—a spell—and I had stood there when now, in a calmer moment, I knew I'd never have willingly behaved like that. Or so I'd hope. The belt. It must have been tied to the loss of Artemis' belt. More uncharacteristic behavior. What am I going to do? It seemed that I was unable to control myself when such moments occurred. I hated the loss of control and the feeling of being unable to change things even when I realized what was happening. It was a window of insight into Xena's earlier crying jag.

Xena . I looked off into the distance down the ridge and wondered how she was faring. Hopefully better than us.

A mournful and dispirited whine broke the air and I glanced towards the ledge in time to see the bear shake itself and lumber away. “Finally.” I waited a few more minutes to make sure it was gone and was about to reach up for Artemis when the goddess lowered herself quietly to the same limb I was standing on.

“We will return to the village now.”

Whatever loss of composure she had suffered earlier, there was no sign of it now. The hardness was back in her face and reflected in her eyes. The stoniness had returned. A little wary of this return to form, I followed after her.

“Are… is everything okay?” I wound my way down awkwardly with my staff in one hand.

“Yes, thank you for asking.”

So formal. So uptight , I could imagine Xena saying. “You know, it's okay to be upset and scared. You've probably never been through something—”

Artemis took hold of the rocky crag and I could see her faced turned up towards me, tight and fierce. “I am not scared.”

I hesitated for only a moment and then continued lowered myself to the slope. “But you are upset.”

“Ga-bri-elle.”

It's funny how when that certain level of annoyed frustration is reached everyone winds up pronouncing my name the exact same way. I swung myself down the last few feet, hoping she wasn't going to be in the frame of mind to smite me; she'd been known to do that, after all. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It is entirely preposterous that a mortal should be seeking to counsel me ,” she said as she turned away and began climbing back up to the ledge.

“Well, ex- cuse me,” I muttered under my breath as I followed after her. I was starting to miss her romantic side at this rate. Conversation was suspended for a short time as we made our way back up the rocky side of the ledge. She climbed nimbly up the rock face and paused at the top to turn and offer me her hand. For the second time that day, I let her take my hand and I felt the strength of her grip and saw it in the subtle lines of muscle that announced themselves as she pulled me up and onto more solid ground.

Leaving me to brush away the pine needles and dirt, she walked a few feet away and dropped to her haunches, her eyes riveted to the tracks on the ground. Her piercing eyes followed the trail and I watched her head lift looking for all the world as if she were testing the scents on the air. In all the surprise of Artemis losing her belt and her powers, I'd nearly forgotten her prowess as a huntress, and her connection with animals. “What is it?”

“She's headed off towards the river. For easier pickings, I imagine.” Artemis stood up smoothly and brushed her hands together. “We'll have to take a slightly different route back to the village. It'll take longer, but we'll arrive not long after true dark.”

Given the attitude of the bear, I certainly didn't mind. “That's all right. We'll find a way to pass the time.” I tried not to notice how she looked less than enthused. “Why don't you tell me more about the belt?”

I hadn't seen anyone look that conflicted since Xena silently debated the merits of leaving me in a pirate port town versus the danger in bringing me along to clean out some especially hoary, hideous and cruel bad guy. I think it was the silver-toothed seadog who started a bidding war on me right there in the tavern in front of Xena that decided her. I'm sure I could have dealt with it. I mean, how much trouble could I really have gotten into? But never mind that. Artemis was looking torn; I could imagine that the last thing she wanted to think about was her loss of divine powers, but then, what else was likely occupying her thoughts at this point? She seemed to have gotten over the bear pretty quickly.

“We'll get your belt back, you know.” I offered her a smile. “I'll bet Xena has it already.”

Artemis' jaw tightened. “I pray your faith in your friend is justified.”

“It is. She's amazing. I've never seen anyone who can do the things she does.”

“She is not immortal.”

I found it curious that Artemis felt she had to remind me of that. “I know; but that's what makes her so incredible.”

“She's flawed and full of anger,” she pointed out. “She's dangerous.” Her shoulders shifted and she looked away, muttering so I could barely hear, “She is unworthy of you.”

“Wait.” I put my hand on her arm, stopping us in the middle of the path. “Everything you said is true. Except the last part.” I moved to face her full on. “Why do you hate her so much?” “Hate” seemed like such a strong word, but given Artemis' reaction to Xena…

She lifted her chin and gazed down on me, stern and pitying, and suddenly far, far older than she appeared. “You mistake me if you think that.”

And with that, she started off down the path, leaving me staring after her until I realized I was being left behind in the gathering shadows.

+=+=+

It was perhaps another candle-mark before conversation resumed and by that point even I could tell we were getting close to the village. After the day I'd had—was it only this morning we'd had the problems with the fish and the crows?—I was more than ready for some rest.

Artemis peered into the sky towards the thickening moon now visible between the tree trunks. “Do you know of my nymphs, Gabrielle?”

I nodded, hesitantly. “They celebrate your rites and mysteries, don't they?”

“Indeed. Their dances and devotions celebrate the changing of the seasons, the cycle of life, and our place in it. From time-to-time I even choose a mortal woman to join them.”

“A great honor,” I murmured.

“Yes.” Artemis nodded and clasped her hands behind her back as we walked. “But I don't choose just anyone. The woman must be a woman; innocence has its place, but one ushered through the rites into womanhood is more open to all its mysteries. But they must be virgins.” Her voice bore no room for compromise. “I will have none that have sullied themselves, dallying about with men.”

“But, what about mothers? Married women?” Her opinions seemed unreasonably harsh to me.

“Let them appeal to Aphrodite or Demeter. I have no use for such as they that have known the touch of men.”

“You may be missing out, you know. Virginity's sort of overrated.”

She gave a hard laugh. “Nonsense. There is magic and power to be found in the tremulous point of suspension between the innocence of childhood and the fulfillment of marital duty. It is the culmination of purity and knowledge for the purposes of achieving higher goals.”

Sounds convoluted. I'm sure Xena would have rolled her eyes and suggested that maybe Artemis should get some and then re-evaluate her position. “Only a few are chosen, huh?”

I felt her eyes graze over me. “You know… you could easily—”

My hands whipped up in front of me, stopping her in mid-word. “Oh no! No, no, no. I, uh, I'm not one for dancing.” Obviously Artemis must have missed my first forays in dancing as an Amazon Princess. “Besides,” I continued blithely, “I'm not a virgin.”

Artemis stopped and stared at me in horrified shock and dismay. “No…”

“Yes.” I nodded. “But I was married at the time, just so you know.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “You jest with me.”

“Nope.” She's not going to pass out, is she? “Maybe you should put your head betwe—”

“But you're so young! So innocent! So… so…”

“So unqualified to be a nymph,” I finished for her gently, adding a smile to soften the blow.

Her shoulders slumped almost comically and I tightened my jaw, trying to avoid laughing at her shattered illusion. She wore her disappointment like a heavy cloak, her steps now slow and plodding. “C'mon, it's not that bad.” I paused, thinking of the upcoming ceremony. And the dancing. “Is it?”

Artemis let out a sigh and kept walking. “Do you wish to see the nymphs dance in the moonlight with me?” From the tone of her voice I got the impression that she almost wished I wouldn't.

“Um, it's been a long day and… I should probably get back to the village. Xe—see if Ephiny's been looking for me.” Whew. She didn't seem to notice my slip.

“As you will.” She gestured off to our left. “The village is just over the rise. I will meet with you in the morning.”

“Um. G'night.” I waved at her retreating back, feeling bad that I'd apparently let her down so badly, even if it wasn't my fault. I nibbled my lower lip, wondering what to do, but just standing there I thought I could see, off in the distance between the trees, small, pale figures moving with beautiful grace in the moonlight. Mesmerized, I drank in their movements, watching how the pale blue light of the moon caressed the dancers' skin, their youthful forms and faces a harlequin of soft light and shadow. A change in the direction of the evening breeze brought an ethereal tune to me; the trill of a flute became another player in their dance, a welcomed partner, as they dipped and spun lightly and joyously through their glade.

The wind changed again and all was rendered silent and I blinked, separated from their dance even as I saw Artemis join them.

Regretfully I turned my steps towards the village and left Artemis to the solace of her dancers.

In only a matter of a few minutes, I found myself back in the village proper. My stomach rumbled at the lingering smell of the cook-fires; I couldn't remember when I last ate. But first things first. I nodded greetings with various inhabitants and visitors as I made my way back to my temporary hut, only to find it dimly lit and empty. Where could she be?

Feeling a worm of worry niggling through my gut, I went in search of Ephiny, eventually discovering her speaking with a visiting queen. Catching her eye, she quickly excused herself to join me apart from the others.

“Where have you been!” she demanded in an undertone.

“Artemis and I had a run-in with a bear. We, um, had to take a roundabout route. Look, have you heard from Xena? She and Autolycus were looking into some tracks they found, but I thought they'd be back hours ago.”

“A bear? Do I even want to know?” She sighed. “I haven't heard she'd returned, but then it's so crazy here Hera could show up and I probably wouldn't know that either.”

This was bad. Xena wouldn't be late returning unless something serious had come up or she had gotten into trouble. Tim e to go and find out which one it is. “Gather up a small war party for me. Quietly, okay?”

“No way. You can't go haring off to look for her, Gabrielle. You're the queen; you need to be the one rubbing elbows with the other queens or else they're going to suspect something's wrong. They keep asking me when you're going to show up.”

I winced knowing she was right. I couldn't afford to cast even the slightest bit of doubt on our ability to carry off Brauronia this year. “Then I need you to go find her. She was heading towards the slavers' camp when we separated.”

Ephiny looked doubtful. “You don't think she can take care of herself?”

“Will you go look for her for me?” I was totally evading the question, but then Xena's ability to look after herself wasn't the point. “She's late and I want to know what happened to her.”

“Gabrielle, there's tons to do—”

“Please?”

“Fine.” She scrubbed a frustrated hand through her curls and gave me a look. “You know, I'm still totally up in the air over which of you causes me more trouble.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” But she was already striding away, muttering heatedly under her breath. The wind just happened to carry some of it back to me. “And no! For your information Xena is not ‘whipped'!”

I turned away and stopped abruptly, discovering way too many pairs of eyes staring back at me, wide-eyed, at my general announcement. I tried to smile.

Xena was going to kill me.

* * *

XIII. Three's Company, Too

“Now, I know what you're thinking, but,” Autolycus began his standard caught-in-the-act disclaimer, “this isn't what it looks like.”

The woman took a step further into the tent, her eyes (and the crossbow) moving between the King of Thieves and me. There wasn't enough of an opening to lay into her with the chakram, but I was patient.

She raised an eyebrow at Autolycus. “You're not ransacking my tent?”

“Uhm…well…I guess it is what you're thinking, b-but it's not why you're thinking.”

“You're obviously looking for a specific item,” the slaver ‘queen' said with self-satisfaction. “Otherwise you wouldn't have overlooked the Persian coins, those daggers and the pillows.”

“Heh. You're good at this.” Autolycus glanced my way for help. “Xena, why don't you tell this lovely lady why we're here.”

“We're looking for a belt,” I said. “It belongs to a friend of ours. We think you have it.”

“Xe-na,” Autolycus grumbled.

It's funny how when that certain level of annoyed frustration is reached, everyone winds up pronouncing my name the exact same way. I was beginning to think the slavers didn't have the belt—and never did—so I figured I could prove my growing suspicions by taking the direct route.

The woman pouted and moved further into the room, toward Autolycus. Her hips rocked sensually as she did. “Such a shame to lose one's belt,” she purred. She leaned in close to the increasingly flabbergasted King of Thieves. Her breathing was ragged, shallow. “It leaves one in a position where anything could happen…”

With an impressive speed, not to mention dexterity, the slaver yanked at Autolycus' belt, untying it and allowing his breeches to drop.

I've been all over the world, I've seen a lot of strange and wondrous things, but I've never seen a man switch from such a bright shade of red to such a pale shade of white and back again.

Also, I had never seen undergarments in that particular style before. “I guess that answers the boxers or briefs question…” I mumbled.

Poor Autolycus; to his credit he tried to carry on. “B-beautiful and quick with her hands,” he stammered. “Well, aren't you a keeper.”

She growled then pushed him backward onto the pillows. He spilled among them, pants around his ankles. “Direct, too. It gets better and better…” he quipped.

As I was about to end this little scene with a well-placed throw of the chakram, the woman turned on me. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't expecting this. What did surprise me was the look in her eyes. It was the same smoldering, longing, out-of-control look she had leveled against Autolycus.

“Your armor.” She gestured at me with the weapon. “Take it off.”

“Now just a second…” Autolycus began, trying to be chivalrous, I suppose—an impossibility when your pants are around your ankles, but an A for effort.

The slaver snarled at him, never moving her eyes from me. He closed his mouth.

I shrugged and began removing the fastenings of my wrist-guards. It seemed like the belt was having its affect on more than just animals and Amazons. If I could draw this out, I thought I might be able to distract her long enough to find an opening. She licked her full lips as I let the armor fall to the floor, her big green eyes blinking slowly, catching the light of the torches, which cast a sensual orange glow on the exposed skin of her thighs, arms, her abdomen…

Bad Xena…

Clearing my throat, I had to stay focused. I went for my upper arm guards and she shook the crossbow at me. “Leave those,” she said. “The boots. Then the breastplate.”

“Y'know,” the pant-less Autolycus yapped from the pillows, “we don't even know your name.”

“Iskra.” She rolled the ‘r' off her tongue, watching me remove my breastplate.

“Well, Iskra, we're both really flattered—”

I shot him a look as I dropped my boots to the floor.

“Okay,” he corrected. “I'm very flattered but this is all—while proving without question how gracious a host you can be—very sudden and—”

“Shut up!” Both Iskra and I ordered. She smiled then motioned to the pillows as I dropped my breastplate to the ground. I shuffled over to them. To her credit, the moon-crazed slaver chick didn't leave herself open to any attack as I walked by. I sat on the cushions—for all their gaudiness, they weren't very comfortable.

“You can get out of that armor really quick, can't you?” Autolycus smirked.

I gestured at his underwear. “Nice…whatever those are.”

“Hey! These are the cutting edge of style, I'll have you know. Very popular in Corinth this year—”

Iskra inhaled languidly, interrupting our whispered sparring. She drew in deeply, closing her eyes and beginning to sway back and forth. Soon, she began to gyrate and dance. She began to gyrate and dance and remove her jewelry and clothes, running her fingers across her skin.

Autolycus' mouth fell open. “Uh…sh-shouldn't we do something?”

“I think we won't have much of a choice in a minute.”

“Oh, uh…well…I'm sure Gabrielle will understand, given the situation…”

Before I could ask what the Hades that was supposed to mean, there was a throaty sigh of pleasure from Iskra. The woman was completely caught up in the belt's mumbo jumbo, moaning, half-naked, her hips writhing. While it all had a certain trashy appeal, we needed to get out of here.

“I guess this has gone on long enough,” I said and swept my leg into hers spilling her onto the bed between Autolycus and I. Before I could knock her unconscious, the King of Thieves brought one of those cheap brass lamps out from behind his back and into the front of Iskra's head with a clang. She passed out amidst us.

Autolycus shrugged, indicating his current state of undress. “More than just some pretty legs, huh?”

I got up and moved for my breastplate. “We need to get back to the Amazon village,” I said as I started to collect my clothes.

Autolycus tried to get up then looked at me blankly. “Huh? Back? Why? What about the belt?”

Where in Hellas is my right wrist-guard? “The slavers don't have it.” My breastplate was half on and I was having trouble lacing up my boots. On the bed, the bare-breasted Iskra continued to writhe and purr and moan even in unconsciousness. That is some belt …

“They don't?” Autolycus had just stood up and began to pull up his pants. “Then who does?”

“Iskra?” a voice came from the tent's opening. “ISKRA!”

I suppose I would have made the same mistake the slaver “king” made if I had seen what he had as he entered the tent—Autolycus bouncing up and down on one leg trying to get his breeches up; me with one boot half-laced and the rest of me spilling out of my leather skirt; and poor, half-naked Iskra groaning and rolling in ecstasy on those ugly pillows. Well, I would have made the same mistake, but I'd like to think that my eyes wouldn't have bulged out in such an undignified manner, or at the very least not have my skin fall into a shade akin to ripe grapes. “Guards!” he yelled as he drew his sword.

“Aw, for the love of Zeus,” Autolycus groaned.

I sighed, getting ready to fight with one boot on. “I hate that friggin' belt.”

* * *

XIV. An Ounce of Prevention…

We all stared at one another and I could feel my body temperature rise to a mortified inferno. A drunken giggle was immediately cut off by the sharp crack of a fist meeting flesh, followed by the sound of a body falling heavily to the ground.

“As you were.” My voice was high and tight and I could only blush harder as I quickly backpedaled and retreated towards the half-shadows beneath the eaves of the communal kitchen where I began pacing restlessly. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I smacked my forehead repeatedly for punctuation, unable to believe I'd said that in front of more than half the fully assembled Nation. The sewing circle back in Poteidaia had been bad enough; how much gossip could a group of women a hundred times that size get up to? The answer stopped me in my tracks. “Oh gods; Xena's gonna kill me. A lot.” Where's a rampaging, power-hungry Amazon god or blonde, psychotic, homicidal maniac when you really need to be put out of your misery in a hurry? “Where is that lava pit again?”

“What?”

“Oh!” I jumped, startled by the appearance of two lithe warriors, both equipped with swords, ridged and decoratively beaded chobos and short bows. Arrow fletchings bristled at their waists in combinations of white and black feathers, the quivers looking worn, but well cared-for. They could have been twins, but for the dark brown hair of one contrasted by the amber red of the other. Sisters, perhaps?

“Sorry, your majesty.”

The dark one didn't look too sorry. I tried to regain my composure, tucking my hair back behind my ears. “Ephiny sent you over?”

They nodded.

“I don't remember seeing either of you the last time I was here. What're your names?”

“Mia,” the dark-haired woman replied shortly as she adjusted the scabbard on her back, looking as though there was some place else she preferred to be.

“Dimitra, your majesty,” the other woman said, smiling shyly. She bobbed her head in a little bow. Mia followed suit belatedly. “We came from Pelos late last year.”

“Pelos? Isn't that somewhere in the valley outside the forest?”

Dimitra nodded.

“Warlords?” It wasn't an uncommon reason for women to find their way into the Nation. War, floods, a bad situation… the Amazons held those born outside to high standards—I thought about my introduction and acknowledged a few exceptions—so I knew these two women had likely passed any number of trials to get where they were now, that Ephiny would trust them to see this task done for me.

Mia snorted and gave me an unreadable look before directing her gaze towards the fire and all the women gathered there, talking and drinking and getting friendlier than one might expect in the wash of firelight.

Dimitra glared at her and then gave me an apologetic look. “No. We… were looking for a different life than what we could find in our village.”

I smiled at her, understanding completely. “You're happier now?”

“Oh, much!” Dimitra fairly gushed. “The weapons-master, Eponin, she scared me pretty badly at first, but I like her now. The Regent… she just seems to be everywhere at once, watching us, you know?”

“Staring, if you ask me,” Mia muttered.

Dimitra glared at her again before turning back to me. “Never mind her, your majesty. She's just got a burr under her saddle.”

“Oh?” I gave Mia my full attention. “Something you want to talk about? I'm a pretty good listener.”

The warrior's face hardened. “Nothing I would trouble you with.” She paused. “Your majesty.” She returned to her moody observation of the lively goings-on.

Mia seemed pricklier than the situation warranted. In fact, she seemed downright insubordinate. I wish I knew why. I made a mental note to mention her to Xena. Her reticence and demeanor were making me suspicious. In the meanwhile, I turned my attention back to Dimitra. “So you've settled in all right?”

“It's been hard,” she admitted. “It's taken a while to fit in, but I'm finding some friends now. I'm starting to understand things; the rules and the traditions…”

“There's enough of them, aren't there?” I nodded at her, thinking of my own feelings of being overwhelmed when Ephiny first introduced me to the ways and means of being an Amazon.

Dimitra shook her hair away from her face and smiled back at me, her shyness appearing to ease. “I thought Solari was going to beat me with a scroll case, she was getting so frustrated. I want to do well. It's all been amazing. And now you're here, and—and Xena, and I can't believe we're actually seeing Artemis!”

Mia shook her head and snorted.

I couldn't hold back any longer. “Mind telling me your problem?”

“She's practically in love with her.” Mia hitched a thumb over her shoulder towards the moonlit grove.

In love with who? Xena? Well, I could underst —

“I am not!” Dimitra hauled off and punched Mia in the shoulder, showing her—sister? friend?—a disapproving frown. “You're just upset because—”

“You're nothing but a silly girl, Di. She's self-centered and full of herself. She doesn't even know we exist.”

Ah. Artemis. Of course. Silly of me. “That's not true,” I said, keeping my tone light and calm. “Artemis is well aware of her people. She cares a great deal for the Nation and the women in it.” Mia's evident dislike, truthful or not, put me even further on my guard.

“And your majesty would know,” Mia said, her tone on the knife's edge between agreement and sarcasm. She turned away again.

“Ignore her,” Dimitra advised as she stood up, having noticed that Ephiny, also armed to her teeth, was approaching with another three warriors in tow. “I think they're beautiful. The nymphs, I mean.” She smiled at me and then looked wistfully towards the trees and the sacred grove. “They're so lovely when they dance.”

I looked back towards the darkened woods where I had left the goddess moving in time to some silent music and couldn't help but agree. If it weren't for the necessary politics tonight, I wouldn't have minded going back to watch them myself. What? I took a shaky breath and tried to eradicate the odd sensation of disappointment and longing I felt in not being able to join them. The influence of the missing belt was becoming far more pervasive, it seemed. Wow, that was weird.

“We're ready, Gabrielle,” Ephiny said without preamble. “Shawna and Dimitra here were with the war party that came in after chasing off the slavers, so she can lead us back to where Autolycus was found by Artemis.”

Shawna gave me a feral, but friendly grin, her lean muscles shifting visibly as she dropped the length of a studded chobo onto her shoulder. She exchanged some odd look with Mia, who sneered and looked away again. The sight of the iron studs in the chobo design reminded me of Autolycus' injury and from the look of Shawna's physique she could have easily been a match for him, especially if he hadn't seen her coming. I glanced around the group, realizing that at this rate I was going to wind up suspecting half the Nation.

“I'll take them out myself,” Ephiny went on, having missed the looks. “We'll see if we can pick up Xena's tracks by the river.” Ephiny adjusted a piece of shoulder armor and gave the others a nod. “Pick up some flint and tinder for torches if we need them and wait for me by the east post. We'll leave from there. Now move.” I watched as they obeyed her with alacrity, even Mia.

“You're so good at that.” I watched as they jogged away, falling into a loose formation as they went.

“What? Telling people what to do?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Maybe you should be queen.”

Ephiny gave me a sympathetic look. “Too late for you to chicken out now. You go schmooze and I'll go look for Xena.”

“You get all the fun.”

“And here I was going to say the same thing.” She gave me a knowing look. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Did Xena tell you to say that?”

“I've got enough sense of my own to say it. Don't forget; I've seen you in action.”

I crossed my arms and blew out a breath. “Why do you always think I'm going to find trouble?”

“Name me one time you've been here that you haven't.”

“Hey, last time was Xena's fault! I just went along for the ride.”

“Trick sarcophagus riding. I remember.” Ephiny dropped a hand on my shoulder and leaned closer. “I'll find her for you, Gabrielle. I promise.” Her voice was gentle, sincere, and I could see the understanding in her eyes. She knew. The assurance given, she shook me lightly “Now, get back out there; the Nation needs its queen.” She released me and began trotting away.

“Be careful!” I called.

She turned around and pointed at me. “The village better be standing when I get back.” And then she turned and jogged away, leaving me to deal with the Nation, its goddess and a deepening mystery with no apparent solution. I looked to the moon and realized how little time we had left and wondered what would become of us all if we failed to find the belt in time.

* * *

XV. Valley of the Ultra Vixens

"This isn't what it looks like." Once again, Autolycus finished up his caught-in-the-act disclaimer, which was actually true for once, as he did his best to pull his leather breeches up over that undergarment sideshow he was wearing.

The slaver—one of those big, longhaired, angry types Gabrielle would die for—pointed his sword at the King of Thieves. "I'm gonna kill you first," he said and started for the hopping thief.

"No sense in waiting, I guess," Autolycus groaned.

I swung one of my boots at the slaver's blade, knocking it aside and stopping the big ox in his tracks. "You're not killing anyone," I said. "And we didn't lay a hand on your girlfriend over there."

"Or anything else," Autolycus chimed in.

I shot him a look. "The point is: we didn't touch her."

Iskra groaned in her “sleep,” squeezing her thighs closed, biting her plump, pouty lip in some kind of sweet and far off ecstasy that was probably the cause of the slow and steady writhing of her hips...

Bad Xena .

The unconscious woman reached for Autolycus' still bare leg, tugging lovingly on it. He looked down at her and then back to the slaver in horror. "Oh dear," he mumbled.

The slaver roared in anger, lunging again at the hapless, half-naked thief. I used my boot to parry and swung it for his head, just to let him know I was the one he should be paying attention to.

I decided that, for the moment, the best I could do was collect my clothes and worry about putting them on as I went. Only problem was, I still couldn't find that pesky right wrist guard. It's my favorite one, too.

Brandishing my left boot, I gave the slaver my best glare—the one that I secretly call Badass . "Now, the smart move would be to just let us go."

"My guardsmen are on the way," he snarled. "You'll never ex-cape."

Autolycus looked at me and mouthed: “ex-cape?”

I was getting angry to say the least. "Look, buddy, we didn't touch—"

Iskra moaned again and rolled onto her stomach, arching her back slightly; the entire display culminating in a prolonged, stuttering, and admittedly enviable, ecstatic convulsion.

I rolled my eyes. "Aw, for the love of Achilles," I groused and swung at “lover boy” with my errant footwear. We exchanged some swings and I started worrying that my boots might not make it out of this one.

Autolycus, freed from Iskra's passionate grip, still struggled with his pants. As he finally pulled them up, his frustration got the better of him and he started to taunt the slaver. "You know how it is, pal; backwoods girl comes across a couple of high rollers from the big city and gets all starry-eyed and wrapped up in the glitz and glam." He grinned. "You just gotta get used to it."

Breaking away from my boot, the slaver took a swing at Autolycus who dropped to the pillows and fully into the embrace of the unconscious, though no less randy Iskra. She locked onto him like a hound on a soup bone.

"Even I know I'm not this charming," Autolycus exclaimed as he wriggled in the woman's amorous grip.

I gave a reluctant laugh of agreement as I whacked the slaver in the side of the head with my boot.

He fell to his knees. "Guards! Guards!! Where are my guards?" He was getting upset, desperate. "You can't ex-cape."

As I brought my boot down to finish him, he rolled at my legs, looking to take them out from under me. I hopped over him without trouble, but he brought the pommel of his sword down on the top of my foot—my bare foot.

Have you ever experienced that excruciating pain when you smack your toe into a table-leg or chair? Or the fiery sting of scalding hot water if you spill some an especially tender part of you? Well, take those and multiply by ten thousand. I think I saw stars. Whole constellations. I know I fell to the floor beside the pillowy area where Autolycus rolled around with Iskra, all feet tangled and twisted together, clutching my throbbing foot and letting out a groan between my tightly bared teeth.

It was in that instant, my foot feeling completely ruined, I discovered for sure the slavers didn't have, and never had, Artemis' belt—but I'll get to that in a minute.

Having to move fast, I rolled onto my back and used my non-smashed leg to kick the quickly descending slaver in the face. He fell over some tacky statue of a dog or jackal or something and spilled onto his stomach. As I got to my feet, my foot somehow hurt worse, but I could still walk on it. From what I understand about these things, that's a good sign. I pounced (well, dropped) onto him. Just as I was about to knock him out, I pulled up. "Oh, and it's ess -cape," I said and punched him in the back of the head.

I got to my feet and limped over to the cushions. Rolling Iskra off the King of Thieves was somewhat difficult (for someone who was supposed to be out cold, the lady had quite the leg strength), but I managed to do it. I smiled down at Autolycus. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying that."

He winked. "Just another of the many sacrifices one makes to not be a sacrifice, I suppose."

We dressed quietly, all the while expecting a troop of guards to jump through the tent flap at any moment. Meanwhile, Iskra dreamed not-so-quietly away on the pillows. Tim e went on and still no guards.

"We need to get out of here," I said as I laced up my boot, encasing my now swelling foot.

Autolycus looked around. "Hey, where are that guy's guards anyway? Talk about a bunch of slackers, huh?"

I crouched low and peeked out the front of the tent. The coast seemed clear, so we made our way though the sleeping camp, checking for slavers then moving to the next hiding spot. This carried on uneventfully as we headed for the western edge of the encampment.

When we crossed near the center of the camp, our questions about the missing guardsmen were answered. Writhing and laughing black forms arced across the flickering fires. Much like Iskra, the slaver women had succumbed to the spell of the belt and were carrying on and dancing and cavorting in various states of undress with the guards.

I smirked. "I guess I wouldn't attend to my duties either."

Autolycus was wide-eyed. “Guh.”

"We have to get back to the amazons." He didn't move. I hit him. "Hey!"

I dragged him out of the camp and into the woods. We moved stealthily and as quickly as we could in the forest's darkness for a half candle-mark before we
came to a stop.

We were back at the riverbank. Autolycus smiled at me. "I won't say anything about what happened back there, if you won't?"

"You're crazy if you think I'm not telling anyone about that underwear of yours."

"All right, all right, we can talk terms after all of this. And speaking of after all of this—" He stroked his moustache thoughtfully, "—how were you so sure the slavers didn't take the belt? We only searched one tent?"

"The slavers didn't make the tracks we followed," I said. "As I was beating up the jealous boyfriend for you—"

"Hey!"

"—I noticed his footwear. I noticed your girlfriend's too."

"Seriously, Xena—"

"The slavers are from somewhere marshy, probably far to the north, probably Germania or somewhere like that," I said. "They wear reed sandals, probably
because they're not used to the warmer climate around here."

"That's all terribly interesting." Autolycus couldn't hide his growing impatience. "But how does that help us here?"

"Our belt-thief wears leather boots."

"Great." Autolycus squinted as he thought it out. "So, they could be anyone in Greece , including me" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm doomed."

We stood listening to the night—the crickets, the river flowing and animals scurrying by in the forest behind us.

I turned to him. "You're sure you don't have it, right?"

"Xe-na."

"What? Just asking." I straightened up and pat him on the back. "Let's go. And cheer up." I looked up into the trees interlaced over the river, black shadows now against the night sky. "There are other trails we can follow."

* * *

XVI. Bottoms Up

I wandered the main gathering area, stopping to informally greet the visiting queens and exchange news with the women and children of my own tribe who took to me with a kind of bemused pride. After our last visit to the Amazons, I was at least more comfortable in looking the part and certainly more adept in managing the feathers and beads and decorative bits of metal with a little more grace than before. That and the changes a year had made in my strength and confidence with the staff helped me feel as though I fit in better, no longer this scrawny farm girl from a backwater village. However; from the way Mia had treated me, it seemed I still had a ways to go yet where the whole regal dignity and unquestioned respect thing was concerned.

But some of them looked at me that way; some shy and others deferential. They parted ranks for me and made room for me amongst them as I smiled and asked after their comfort. They smiled back. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

The volume around the fires was considerable; the conversation and singing rising on the night air like the sparks lifting towards the heavens. I smiled, noting their full and healthy faces. It'd been a good year. Hopefully, Brauronia would sustain our good fortune. Of course, we can't leave it up to just a ceremony. There'd be treaties to look over with the other queens, a review of weapons and supplies and medicines, discussions about population and hunting concerns—

“Your majesty!”

Startled from my musings, I found a grinning young woman beside me, scantily attired in spotted leathers with a feathered mask pushed back on her head, pressing a mug into my hand. “Wha—”

“To her majesty! Queen Gabrielle!” She thrust her own drink into the air.

A rousing cheer went up in response to the toast and I found myself pulled towards the forefront of the group. “Whoa! Slow down!” Was that a hand on my butt? “No need to push.”

“Another drink!” Someone clinked their mug firmly against mine, slopping its contents, while another hand reached out and urged me to drink. I tipped the cup towards me, catching a whiff of mead before I took a sip and that's when the chanting started.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Uh.

“Ten dinarsh shaysh our queen can out-drink any of yoursh!” Solari yelled, swaying dangerously with the force of her loyal declaration. She leaned on her neighbor, squashing the other woman's headdress flat. Raucous catcalls and creative but friendly insults followed from all sides.

Oh boy. I'd seen Xena do it before, with a great deal of panache and ego, I might add. But me, well… I sniff the cork and I'm tipsy. I raised one hand in protest. “As much as I'd like to—”

“Accepted.” Jio, one of the northern queens with her white furs and a bear tooth necklace, suddenly swapped my drink for a larger one, the foaming liquid splashing a bit over the sides. From the flush across her cheeks, she'd been imbibing for a while before I'd showed up this evening. She sported a similar sized mug of her own. “A hog's (hic) head of dinars and a night with my body-slave against your piddly ten,” Jio shouted in reply, pulling a buxom lass to her side. There was a flurry of betting in response. She tossed her long blonde hair out of the way and regarded me with a tough, competitive gleam in her bloodshot blue eyes.

And just like that tribal honor was on the line, and every eye was on us. Oh crap. I could smell the overpowering rawness of the liquor already—smelling of a dead, wet dog—and I hadn't even touched it yet. This had to be a new record for me for finding trouble. At least the village would still be standing after this. I hoped.

Like a woman facing ritual execution, I squared my shoulders and raised my mug. I took a deep breath, giving my voice the strength to carry. “To a strong and powerful Nation!”

“The Nation!” was the return salute. Jio, seemingly confident in her abilities, immediately set to downing her drink.

In for a dinar… I put the cup to my lips and began to drink. My eyes teared up immediately. The equivalent of Greek fire coursed across my palate and waterfalled into my stomach, setting it ablaze in a molten, acidic bath. I wanted to gasp, choke, stop—anything but continue sucking down this nasty, fiery mixture. What was this stuff? Ugh, gods… The dead, wet dog had apparently been peed on and buried under garbage before being steeped in whatever this was . Dribbles escaped and dripped down my chin, and I felt my gag reflex struggle not to react as I tried to get it all down before I had no choice but to stop, either for air or to disgrace myself before everyone. The chanting of my name accompanied each swallow and finally the last of the brew burned its way down my throat.

I dropped the mug and wheezed for breath, resurfacing for much needed air. I couldn't tell if the buzzing noise was the sound of the crowd cheering or the sudden disorienting alcoholic rush as my brain pickled itself in the fumes rising from my stomach. Hands slapped me on the back and it only occurred to me then to look for my opponent.

“You did it!” Solari yelled in my ear. I craned my neck—a bad idea as things tilted sideways—and discovered the other queen laying face first in the dirt, her mug next to her limp hand and its contents soaking the ground near the fire.

Members of my own tribe teased and jeered good-naturedly at their rivals and money began exchanging hands from bets lost and won.

“Take her to her quarters,” I said, gesturing to the woman snoring peaceably on the ground. The movement, even mild as it was, set off a sense of dizzied disorientation. The breath I took to steady myself didn't seem to help much.

“Your majesty.” A warm body pressed against mine and, bewildered by my victory, I reflexively wrapped an arm around the waist of the woman sliding her hands over my shoulders and into my hair. Jio's body slave didn't seem too displeased about being passed over to me. She snuggled closer. “Mmm.”

It felt kinda nice. Comfortable. Warm. Whoa. Was that her knee? What am I doing? I pulled my hands away from her waist and firmly, but gently, detached her tentacle-like grip. “No, really, you don't need to do th-this….um…” I fumbled for a name.

She smiled at me. “ Tula .”

“ Tula , really, not that I'm not flattered—I am—but you've a right to choose, you know. You're not obligated, because you're your own person and I don't hold with slavery. So, you don't have to either and, you know, I'm kind of tired anyway and it's getting a bit late…” And I was babbling so bad it was embarrassing.

“But you won me, your majesty.” She purred for me. Right in my ear.

I looked pleadingly at Solari.

Solari sniggered helpfully and gave me an unsubtle wink. “Whit-cchsshhhh!” She made a rapid wrist action that I gathered was supposed to be the cracking of a whip. I just knew that was going to come back to haunt me. “You've got the shtammna! Take her, too!”

Too? My head was already pounding too much to try to figure out what she meant by that. Covering my eyes didn't help. Nor did it make her go away. Either of them.

“Don't you like me, your majesty?” The slave's hands were back, this time more insistently, her lips nuzzling my throat. Things were fuzzy and distant, and the trouble was, I was beginning to like what Tula was doing, but finding that I had someone else in mind to be doing it.

Gods, what was in that drink?

Belatedly, I pushed myself away. “Excuse me.” Other arms caught me when I stumbled off balance, buoyed me up and carried me along on the current of celebration and fun. Everything swirled around me in lurid splashes of color and garish sound, more drinks were offered, their names passed along with knowing smiles that seemed confusing and mysterious to me.

Even clouded, I noticed that not everyone was feeling jolly; a few fights were breaking out, violent and intense, but again I was passed and pulled along before I could do anything to stop it. So many strangers, so many faces… even amongst the Amazons, my adopted family, I couldn't help but find myself feeling oddly alone and isolated. Ephiny, the only one amongst them that I had ever felt comfortable confiding in, was off on a mission to find Xena. And Xena…

I missed her so badly right then. I wanted the comfort of her presence, the feeling of strength and security just having her beside me could provide. The sense of belonging . She was my real family.

I think I could be happy anywhere so long as it's with her.

But Xena was gone. Missing. Maybe injured. My worry and concern intensified, adding to the misery of being lightheaded and overwhelmed by the noise and music. I drained the cup of whatever had been shoved into my hands—my third or fourth by this time, I guessed—grimacing as I did so and then set it down on a convenient flat surface before weaving my way towards the perimeter. I needed peace, a bit of space and solitude. With the party falling away behind me, I felt the welcome brush of the cooler night air against my flushed cheeks. I stood there, under the overhanging branches and leaned against a tree, fitting my fingers into the rough fissures in its ancient bark.

“Xena, where are you?” I let my eyes adjust to the moonlit shrouded woods, feeling sad and lonely and sorry for myself, when the faintest hint of flute music caressed my ears. Soft and melancholy, it squeezed my chest to tightness and left me feeling an odd sense of empathy with its singular, haunting melody. Its voice called to me and, wrapped in its spell, I followed it, catching sight of the ethereal silhouettes dancing, stately and beautiful, to its tune.

Without another thought, I went to them.

* * *

XVII. Her Left Foot

The forest began to change, the trees spreading out, the floor full of wider spaces. Our pace increased—well, as much as my foot allowed it to. As we hit a small clearing, we could hear the drums of the Amazon camp even though a distance away. They were still at it, it seemed. Looking up into the night sky, we could see the far off light of campfires against the wispy clouds.

Autolycus shook his head. “Those girls really like to party.”

“Not the greatest cooks, though,” I said with a smirk.

“Oh, I don't know about that,” he offered mirthlessly. “That gruel they've been feeding me has really been hitting the spot.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “It's only for a little while longer. We'll get you out of this, you'll see.” I smiled. “Gabrielle's on the job.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” He said with a wry twist of his face. “You know as well as I do, spending a night—or several—In a jail cell never gets any easier.” He darkened somewhat. “No matter how many times you do it.”

I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, hoping this didn't have to progress to comforting rub or, my least favorite, the consoling hug; it was late and I just didn't have it in me. “I know, but I also know that right now, believe it or not, it's the safest place in the Amazon nation for you to be. There's probably hundreds of Amazons looking to gain Artemis' favor by killing you.”

He blinked nervously. “Hundreds?”

I waved it off. “Whatever, the point is they won't because Ephiny has her most trusted people guarding you—because she believes you.”

“She does?”

“Sure.” I had no idea what Ephiny thought, but what was the point of upsetting him? “Now come on, let's go.”

Autolycus grabbed my arm. He looked serious, though uncomfortable. “Look, uh, Xena.” He swallowed hard and then drew himself up. “Thank you.”

I nodded. We moved through the forest for another quarter of a candle-mark. Soon we saw light through the trees, heard voices and singing, and could smell the enticing scent of cooking meat. It nearly distracted me from noticing the figures moving through the woods in our direction; a group of scouts by their formation. I crossed my arms over my head. After I nudged him, Autolycus did the same.

Ephiny stepped through the trees, shaking her head and crossing her arms. I thought I heard her give a soft snort of laughter. “Well, that's typical.”

“Huh?” I said, putting my arms down.

“The Queen was worried, she had me form a search party,” the Regent said wryly. “We were about to come looking for you.”

“How sweet,” Autolycus joked. Two warriors grabbed him; one, a red head, rather roughly. “Hey! I'm surrendering willingly.”

“Dimitra!” Ephiny shot the young woman a look of warning. “Take him away.” I waved reassuringly to Autolycus as the warriors shoved him along and into the village. Ephiny moved in beside me. “And here I was starting to look forward to getting away from the guests for a while. Where've you two been?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” I turned to Ephiny, deciding to change the subject. “What was Gabrielle so worried about? I'm not that late.”

Shaking her curly head, Ephiny pointed to the village. “Why don't you ask her yourself? She seemed pretty anxious to speak to you.”

“Where?”

“The Queen's hut.”

“Right, thanks.” I took a step then stopped. “Uhm, by Queen's Hut you mean—”

“My hut.” Ephiny rolled her eyes.

“And not—”

“Xe-na…”

“Right, thanks again.” I headed into the village, leaving the Regent behind me to grumble something as usual.

There were campfires everywhere, throwing flames and warm light into the sky, across the huts and over the bodies of amazons everywhere. The ladies were certainly in a “frisky” mood, no doubt the belt playing its part, as they danced and sang, pounding on drums and rolling about in sparring contests. The belt was obviously continuing to play its hot, little part in everything.

To be honest, I was really tired. It had been a long (long) day. I had been attacked by fish, by crows, even by my own horse; found out that Autolycus was being accused of a crime he only sort of committed and was to be put to death; had to deal with that pointy-faced, tight-pants Artemis, who Gabrielle may or may not have a crush on; ran through the woods at all hours of the night; fought off a randy slaver queen; got my foot smashed by her jealous dope of a boyfriend; and now have to deal with a village of rutting Amazons.

To be even more honest, I don't like the Amazons. There are a lot of reasons why, all of which I won't get into here, but a major one is festivals like this one. Amazons have a festival for everything. Oh, Artemis be blessed, it is the Festival of the Hanging Pine Cones! Oh, Artemis be praised, it is the Festival of the Falling Pine Cones!

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for celebrating and libations and whatnot, it's just that the Amazons take it all so seriously. They have every little bit planned out. From the lighting of the torches, to every note in the songs, to the closing of the ceremonies—it's all so scripted and boring. No wonder Artemis is their Goddess-protector.

In the end, I come here for Gabrielle. Like it or not, it's something I have to do. They're like her family. Which, I guess, makes them my family. Now, there's a thought … I looked around wondering if I could ever feel “at home” in a place like this.

Maybe we could just drop in on holidays?

I rolled my eyes, realizing how that would quickly translate into permanent residence since Amazons had holidays every other friggin' day. But then again: what Gabrielle wants, Gabrielle gets…

There was an increasing amount of laughter as I moved toward the Queen's hut. I had the sneaking suspicion it was directed at me. Sounds of whips being cracked and then snickers seemed to follow me everywhere. I shot them a pretty mean stare, but it didn't seem to work.

I found the Queen's (formerly the Regent's) hut empty. I was beginning to get frustrated. I looked longingly at the big bathtub, just wanting to soak in it and then go to bed instead of chasing everyone all over the place at all hours of the night. Gabrielle's staff leaned in the corner, she probably hadn't gone far.

As I left, looking around without any idea where to begin searching for Gabrielle, more Amazons strolled by with their whispers and their whip-sounds.

That was it. Tired and cranky, I snapped.

“Hey! You got somethin' to say, say it,” I hurled at the biggest one in the bunch as I approached. She turned her head away and the group quickly moved on.

I crossed my arms. “That's right.” Maybe it was the belt, but that felt good.

It didn't get me any closer to finding the bard. I'd had enough; I'd never find her this way. “Gabrielle?!” I yelled. That seemed a little silly, so I decided to do a perimeter search of the village. Gods, I love perimeter searches—they're the best kind of searches.

As I fanned out (well, with my aching, swelling foot, it was more like limped out) to the edges of the village, I heard Gabrielle's voice on the breeze. I moved toward it. Soon, I could hear what was being said.

“Ow! Take it out!” It was Gabrielle's voice. She was in pain. I sped up.

“Breathe into the pain. It'll pass quickly,” Artemis said. If she was hurting Gabrielle, I'd—

“Aah…” A sound of relief. “Oh, that's better.” Gabrielle again. “Oh! You don't have to do that …”

“Please, Gabrielle. I insist. It was my idea, after all.”

Gabrielle groaned.

I stopped.

“Is this better?” Was her voice muffled?

“Yeah.” Gabrielle's voice was almost… dreamy. “Much. I wasn't expecting it to be quite so large. I don't think I've ever had—oh, yeah—one that big before. What you're doing is helping a lot… so smooth and warm… feels really, really good…”

In a breathless kind of horrified daze, I moved through the woods towards the voices. Was that giggling I heard?

“These are not just the hands of a warrior, Gabrielle.”

“I can feel that. Oh! Yes… there…”

I ran through the woods to the voices. Crashing into a small clearing I found them. It took a lot, but I managed to make damn sure my eyeballs didn't bulge out like the slaver's did. Not sure about the facial redness, though.

In the clearing, Gabrielle sat with her bare foot in Artemis' hands. The goddess was bending forward, hovering closely above the bard's slender toes, her lips poised above them.

“What the—” It was simultaneously better and worse than I expected.

“Xena?” Gabrielle shook her head as though waking from a dream. “You-you're back.”

“Just what is going on here?” I demanded.

Artemis raised her chin, seeming simultaneously annoyed and satisfied at my interruption. I blinked at them, wide-eyed, able to feel the vein in my forehead throbbing.

Gabrielle looked dazedly between the two of us and withdrew her foot from Hatchet-Face's groping little hands. “I—I wanted to dance with the nymphs, but I took one step without my boots and got a really nasty splinter.” She held up the sliver of wood as evidence. “She handled it for me.”

“Mm-hmm.” My jaw shifted from left to right in a tight grind. “That's not all she was handling.”

I didn't miss the twitch of a smile at Artemis' lips. I glared. She glared back.

Gabrielle stood up, listing shakily to one side with her boot in hand until she caught her balance against a tree trunk. “Did you find the belt?”

“No,” I said flatly, not taking my eyes off Artemis. “Why don't we talk about it in our quarters, after we get some rest?”

I watched in smug joy as Artemis surged to her feet, her eyes sparking fury in my direction. I smiled at her when Gabrielle bent down to clumsily put her boot back on, unaware of the silent battle going on right above her head. I decided against sticking my tongue out.

“Why not now?” Gabrielle asked, abandoning the now-tangled bootlaces in exasperation.

“Too many ears. Let's go.”

She stood and blinked slowly between the two of us, and I wondered if I only imagined her hesitation before she followed me.

* * *

XVIII. Slam Dunk (or You Make Me Wet)

I didn't mean to trip, but the next thing I knew I was getting a close-up look at the path back to the village. “Damn laces,” I muttered, trying blearily to look at my feet. A little challenging when sprawled on the ground.

“Gab-ri-elle.”

Oh, yeah. She pulled me to my feet and then abandoned me to the swaying forces that had taken hold of the forest and threatened to trip me up again. “Oo, it's getting rough out here.” I carefully felt my way back to the ground to wait out the turbulence. As it was, I felt as though a cyclops had clubbed me over the head, so sitting down seemed a good idea.

“What is the matter with you?”

“Get down.” I waved my hand in the general direction of the forest floor. “It's safer down here. Doesn't move as much.”

“Gabrielle, I do not have the patience for this.”

I looked up and squinted, trying to focus on the angular face above me, half-bathed in a pearly moonlight that illuminated her eyes and set them aglow from within. How marvelous! I'd never seen anything like that before. “You're so beautiful .”

She sighed and dropped her face into one hand. “Not again.”

Again? Huh? Oh, look… I blinked slowly, distracted by the spider web next to me with the moonlight caught in its strands. It made me happy, so I giggled.

“So not only was she feeling you up, but she got you drunk, too. Great. That's just great.”

It was? Wait, how did she know about my butt getting felt up? Oh, yeah! “You have many skills.” Happy that I'd solved my mystery, I sat there and snickered.

“Uh huh.” She reached for me again. “C'mere.”

I was hauled upright and found myself face-to-breastplate with her. Not a bad spot to be in but—

“Ugh!” Xena jerked away suddenly leaving me to cope with my change in altitude alone. “You stink!”

“Like dead dog?” I hazarded. “That's the ‘Hydra Piss' I think. Or was it ‘Gorgon Gob'?” I tried to remember while I spread my arms out and bit the tip of my tongue as I concentrated on negotiating the path. I needn't have bothered; I was face first in the leaves a second later, thanks to my damn laces.

Actually, it was rather comfy right there. I scooped a couple of leaves closer to make a pillow. Yeah. Comfy. I was halfway into the arms of Morpheus before she grabbed me again.

“Ooooh, no, you don't.”

I whined, not wanting to move. My head had actually paused in its throbbing when I'd stopped moving. But Xena is not one to be denied. Certainly not by me. The next thing I knew, I was moving down the path, though definitely not under my own steam. Deep and considered analysis brought me to the conclusion that I was being carried. Lightly and easily, Xena had picked me up and cradled me in her arms, allowing me an unusual and fascinating experience in not only being that close to her, but also in that she had been the one to initiate it.

There was little I could do except hook my arm around her neck and lay my head down on her shoulder. I closed my eyes, unsure if the unsettled feeling inside was due to the discernible sway of Xena's gait or the feeling of power and strength surrounding me, tangible and visible in the feel of her muscular arms around me. From this close angle, I watched the way the line of her jaw tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed, the way her eyes moved restlessly across the path before us, and the way the soft light illuminated her nose and highlighted her cheekbones. So strong, so serious. Knowing her as I did, I thought she looked angry and tense.

That's the thing with Xena; she takes so much on herself when I wish she could find a way to let some of it go, to share it with me and maybe make the burden of her fears and regrets easier to bear. Idly, I slipped my fingers into her hair at the base of her scalp and felt the delightful sensation of soft warmth where her dark hair covered my hand. The locks were cooler near the surface, above my hand, and warmer beneath. Not too dissimilar from Xena herself, it occurred to me. I stroked my thumb against the nape of her neck where I know I sometimes get sore and figured maybe she did too, and was rewarded with a sound of muted surprise from her and a slight tightening of her grip. She kept walking, but it seemed the forest didn't rush by as quickly now.

I rubbed the tips of my fingers lightly against her skin, imagining the scattering of tingles it might cause. I liked them, personally. I'd discovered this one evening after we had spent the day helping a village to rebuild some of their homes after having been struck by warlords looking for food and plunder. Xena, in her usual silent and to-the-point approach, had sat me down in front of her and used those large, strong hands of hers to ease the muscle cramps in my neck and shoulders I'd been complaining about for the better part of a candle-mark. I still remember the final little scratch of her fingers across the back of my neck to let me know she was done and the shiver of tingles it had sent in a rush of goosebumps across my skin.

In languid curiosity, I did the same to her and flitted my gaze to her arm in time to see the fine hairs rise up, like wild grass before a wind. I looked back up at her face and noted a stillness there, a forced blankness, and knew she was shielding herself from me.

I knew how to fix that. So close already, I dipped my head forward, closing my eyes when long, dark strands brushed against my face as my lips found her ear. “You can't hide from me you know.”

She jerked her head away from me and I found myself faced with a pair of hot blue eyes and flaring nostrils over a disapproving frown. “Stop it, Gabrielle.”

“I can see you.” It came out in a teasing sing-song way, soft and breathy, quite without my permission, but it was fun and it made me giggle again. Xena shot me another look, but snapped her lips tightly together and carried us faster. I resumed my comfortable spot against her.

My breath warmed her skin and when I breathed in, I could detect the scent of her; a mingling of leather, musk, exertion and the indefinable essence of everything I know as her . And was that perfume? I sniffed again, closer this time. When did she start wearing perfume? Sandalwood and spice tickled my nose and I pressed closer, the tip of my nose brushing slowly against the skin beneath her ear. A soft grunt of surprise escaped between Xena's clenched teeth.

I had no attention for anything around us. I was oblivious to the interested gazes and whispered comments as we passed through the edges of revelry and into the less traveled paths between the Amazons' huts and outer buildings. All my concentration was centered on the expanse of warm skin within my reach, wondering all the while if she might taste as interesting as she smelled? My lips touched her skin and I found myself squeezed in her arms. That was okay—I liked that. My lips parted to allow the tip of my tongue to delicately stroke the side of her throat. Distantly I was aware of a tremulous shudder that trembled us both.

Xena's warmth drew me in and I luxuriated in the closeness, tinged though it was with a sense of breathless danger. This close, I couldn't think of a reason not to do it as my lips found her throat again and traversed its length, bottom to top, pausing to paint her earlobe with the moist tip of my tongue.

“Gabrielle!”

Through slitted eyes I could see the world rush past us on the wings of a growl of frustration. It occurred to me that I could soothe her if only she'd let me…

We came to an abrupt halt. “You're dismissed,” I heard Xena say in a tight voice.

“Ma'am…” The voice of a reluctant Amazon responded. “We can't leave; Regent's orders.”

Xena stiffened; I knew she hated being thwarted. “Leave. Now.”

“Look,” the same Amazon replied, an edge to her voice. “I don't care if you're Zeus himself, we're not g—”

I lifted my head and, with effort, focused my eyes. “You two haven't been to the party yet. You should go.”

Their eyes looked from me, to Xena, to each other, then back to us and then as one they gave me a fist-over-heart salute before going around us and back towards to center of the village. “She is whipped, isn't she?” I heard faintly.

Xena spun and growled. They both cringed and hurried off faster. Then, we too were on the move again.

“You're not whipped,” I muttered and buried my face back into Xena's neck, my hand sliding into her hair with an increasing fervor. “No one owns you…” Gods, she felt good. So soft and strong and intensely alive.

She took a deep breath and I felt myself lifted closer and I smiled to myself until I suddenly realized I was airborne. I slammed into the frigid bath water with a huge splash, sending a crest of water over the sides to soak the fur rugs below. I gasped as I resurfaced; the shock of it ripping away the gauzy curtain of inebriation and sensual closeness, and leaving me in nothing but my sopping leathers and naked, open-mouthed anger. “Xe-Xena!”

Very deliberately, she crossed her arms and took one step back from the tub and then another. Only then did I notice the dark and murderously angry expression she turned towards me.

* * *

XIX. Hot, Wet, Girl-on-Girl Action

I stepped back from the tub. One pace. Two. I had to make sure Gabrielle was out of reach, before I did anything regrettable.

Had to control my breathing. Had to control my hands from shaking. Had to control myself, my emotions. My skin still tingled where she had touched me. Where she had kissed me.

Gabrielle had kissed me.

On my neck.

A lot.

I guess it wasn't that big of a deal, though.

Right?

Then why did I feel so many things? Why did I feel betrayed? Angry?

Aroused?

Gabrielle spit the cold water out, looking pathetic—but less drunk.

"Cooled off now?" I sneered. I was doing my best to control my temper, assuming a lot of it was that blasted belt raising my temperature. I still couldn't believe she was drunk and cavorting with that so-called virgin goddess.

“Xena…I…you…we…” she spluttered, her eyes confused, conflicted, their piercing green brought out by her now darkened lashes.

Gabrielle's inability to form a simple sentence only made me angrier. Was she that smitten with Pointy-face that words failed her? Her, of all people? I crossed my arms. "I expected more from you."

She looked confused, taken aback. Hurt, even? "I-I thought... I mean... I thought you'd…you'd like that."

"Like it?!” Breathe, Xena. Breathe. “Like seeing her rubbing her hands all over my best friend and getting her falling-down drunk?!” I threw my hands in the air. “I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with her!"

Something flared up in Gabrielle's eyes.

“Hey! You of all people should know I'm not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself.” She raised her chin haughtily. “And for your information, she did not get me drunk.”

“Oh?”

“That's right,” she continued. “I managed to do it all by myself. Well…with the help of an Amazon drinking contest.” Gabrielle quickly addressed my increasingly skeptical look. “Which I won by the way.”

“That is and isn't surprising.” I shook my head at her.

“The drink was horrible…smelled like a dog…tasted like one too…” She looked sheepish. “Not that I know what a dog tastes like.”

She became glossy-eyed as she remembered, but then shook her head and cleared her throat. "Anyway, I needed some air, so I took a walk and went to see the nymphs." My lips tightened. "It's been a long day, Xena. I mean, I had to put up with Artemis on the way back—" I snorted at the protest. "—and then she tried to kiss me, but that's when the bear tried to kill us, so I had to save us since she couldn't—"

There was that vein in my forehead again. For a second, I couldn't open my mouth to speak because my teeth had clenched so tightly shut.

Gabrielle seized the opportunity and waved the whole thing off. “It's not as big a deal as it sounds. Anyway, I wandered off and was distracted by the dance of the nymphs and got a splinter in my foot.” With an exasperated look, she pointed to her feet, submerged somewhere in the cloudy tub water. “Artemis was helping me. Did you see the size of that splinter?"

This was ridiculous. Couldn't Gabrielle see what Artemis was doing to her? I had a right to protect my best friend from herself. Right? Goddess or no Goddess, belt or no belt—Artemis was going down. "How big was the splinter that she had her hands all over your legs?” I shook my head again. “Any higher and she'd be taking your temperature.”

Gabrielle's face contorted with conflicting emotion. “I don't believe it.” She said with incredulity. “You—you're jealous!”

I wasn't. “What? That's ridiculous.” I paced away from the tub. “I'm worried about you. You don't know about the gods, Gabrielle.” I turned for effect. “I do. They play twisted little games with mortals. They manipulate them. Then they throw them away.”

“You are.” Gabrielle grinned mischievously. “You're jealous.”

I wasn't.

I was angry, however. “Fine. Whatever. Maybe you can rethink the whole thing between drinking contests and late night Nymph-dancing and erotic foot massages while I'm off finding that stupid belt for you and your tribe.”

“What?” She crossed her arms, still standing in the tub. “I'm sure that's all you were doing.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, please, what? Did the trail through the woods lead to a band of Corinthian showgirls?” Her teeth flashed, her finger pointed accusingly. “I could smell perfume on you.”

I smiled, remembering the run in Autolycus and I had with the moonstruck slaver queen. Maybe, smiling wasn't the best thing I could have done right then. I know what I said next fit squarely into that category as well. “Now, you're jealous.”

Gabrielle sprang from the tub, water spilling everywhere. She moved angrily, coming nose-to-nose with me. She was shivering, from anger or chill I didn't know. “Y-you wish,” she said.

Seeing her this passionate, this aggressive threw me off a little. I needed to gain the advantage again. “In that case, your highness, I could smell like a whole chorus line, why should you care?”

She looked away. It was for a split second, but she looked away. Was she? She couldn't be…

Right?

* * *

XX. At the Center of Things

Twice in one night words completely failed me. A sick feeling invaded my insides, prompted by the image of some skanky, empty-headed, rank-scented woman writhing around with Xena, which only served to make me feel crazy and furious and way out of control. “Maybe I don't care if you do!” I yelled, getting right up in her face. “But if you're going to smell like some two-bit floozy hanging off the end of a bar, you'd better make sure to stay upwind from anyone you wanna sneak up on!”

The fracture in the expression of nasty amusement revealed a ripple of shock and astonishment, maybe even hurt, before it was gone. It gave me a surge of dark satisfaction to know I could get beneath her skin.

She put her hands on her hips and looked down on me, the corner of her mouth lifting in that arrogant, condescending way she sometimes has. “At least I can see what's in front of me! Your problem is you can't see the bigger picture; Artemis and the Amazons have you so bamboozled, you can't see how she's taking advantage of you.” At my fierce head-shake, Xena threw her hands in the air. “How can you be so blind? She's got designs on you, Gabrielle! Believe me, I can see it; the way she talks to you, the way she touches you, the way she throws it in my face !”

“So that's it?” I demanded, my eyes narrowing. I could have spit, I was so mad. “It skewers your ego that she's showing interest in me? What am I? Some object for you to fight over? Is that it? You think I belong to you, like your saddle bags and your horse?”

Xena's mouth worked for a long, soundless moment, but she rallied, her tone low and hard and very serious. “You're not to be alone with her anymore.”

Outrageous! “Xena—”

She grabbed me by the upper arms and shook me slightly, the palms of her hands a searing heat against my bare skin. “She's not touching you again!”

“Stop it! I'm not a child!” I wrenched myself free, throwing off her bruising grip.

“We're finished! Don't you argue with me.” She turned away.

I grabbed her arm hard and yanked her around to face me. “We are if you think I'm going to let you do this!”

“If that's the way you want it!”

We teetered there, staring at each other and breathing hard with emotion. Her eyes had darkened to a cool blue-grey slate, stony and inflexible, ringed with tension. There was surprise there, too—a vulnerability that reflected the faintest glimmer of fear. How did we get here? How had it gone so far? My heart was a timpani beneath my ribs, its out-of-control pace fueled by an almost nauseating mix of confusion, fury and dread. So many emotions, too many to make sense of. Was she really that jealous? Was I? It seemed inconsequential next to the threat of losing her, of losing everything that she was to me. Nothing is worth that. With effort I pulled myself back from the brink. “No,” I replied finally, the quiet of my voice falling hoarse in the taut silence between us. “I don't.”

She released a trembling breath, the spell of hostility abruptly broken, washing past us like a brief and violent summer storm. The dark head lowered, hiding her face from me.

My chest loosened and I took a settling breath of my own, continuing on more gently. “I don't want that. Ever. But you have to trust me, Xena; Artemis can try as much as she wants, but she's not going to get anywhere. I'm flattered, of course—I mean, who wouldn't be? But I'm… I'm not interested.”

“Really?” Blue eyes gazed back at me from beneath the curtain of her bangs.

I nodded solemnly and pressed my hands against my belly, feeling the adrenaline aftermath wreaking havoc with my system. Whether from the cold bath water or from the intensity of our argument, I began to shiver. I stayed there, standing, just as she did, and I wondered if she felt as unsure as I did about what to do next. When she said nothing more, my shoulders slumped and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. “D-did…” I tried again. “Did you have any luck finding the belt?”

Xena retreated to a window that overlooked a view towards the center of the village where the party was still going strong. She leaned against the framework, crossing her arms over her chest, the outline of her body gilded in the soft golden glow thrown from the multitude of bonfires shedding light and warmth over the assembled. I wished I could feel some of that now.

“No,” she replied, distantly. “They never had it.”

I let out a disappointed breath. “What are we going to do? Brauronia is in two days. If the belt can make us act like this now, how much worse will it be by the ceremony? If the slavers didn't take it, then…”

I saw her give an almost imperceptible nod. “An Amazon did.”

* * *

XXI. (Not So) Straight to Bed

As much as I hate to admit it, I was trying to shock her. And in the end, I guess that's just another way of saying I was trying to upset her. What was I doing?

Gabrielle looked pensive for a moment then nodded. “It's disappointing, but not surprising,” she said. “Only an Amazon would know about the belt. Assuming the thief knew what they were stealing, of course.”

“Of course.”

She wasn't shocked or upset. I turned my attention back out the window. Maybe I thought if she didn't see my face, my eyes, she wouldn't see how low I was feeling. It wasn't the first time I'd underestimated her. From the first moment we met she's been proving me wrong, but I never acknowledged it, did I?

I nodded. “Also, the footwear, angle of attack and escape route, when taken together seem to point to an Amazon attacker.” It was hard to speak evenly. I was tired. I was not entirely myself thanks to the belt. What happened before—the yelling, what we said to each other—was getting to me even more than it normally would.

Gabrielle took a step forward. “Xena I—”

“Did you find out anything around here?” I looked down, bracing myself on the windowsill.

She paused. “Uhm…The belt is affecting everyone. But I think there's two we should keep an eye on. Shawna, she was with Ephiny; she had a studded chobo with her. Are you sure the weapon that hit Autolycus was from a slaver?”

I nodded. “I've seen the kind of chobo you mean. It's not the same. Slavers would want to disable or stun their targets; a studded chobo would likely crack your head open.”

She wiped water from her face. “Then there's also Mia. She came in with another woman last year from Pelos. From what she said, I get the impression she hates Artemis' guts.”

That made me chuckle. I guess not all Amazons are bad. “A point in her favor.”

“Xena, c'mon, she's not that—”

Not again. I whipped around to glare at her. “Do not defend her to me, Gabrielle.” My gaze held her for a long moment more and then I turned away again to stare out the window.

Behind me, Gabrielle looked away; reluctant perhaps to start anything more between the two of us—which was exactly why I had turned away. “Fine.” She took a few steps over to the desk on the other side of the room and lowered herself into the chair. “Mia seems to have a problem with Dimitra—the one who came with her from Pelosi. I gather Dimitra's got a crush or something on Artemis.”

I snorted. There's no accounting for taste.

“And there's some kind of tension between Mia and Shawna,” Gabrielle added. “I couldn't get anything further, but both of them certainly looked like they could have taken Autolycus down, especially if they managed to surprise him first.”

I turned to face her, trying to move the various pieces of the puzzle around in my mind. “So we have a goddess-hater who has trouble getting along with other Amazons.” I decided to try and lighten the mood a little. I winked at her. “Who isn't me, for once.”

“For once.” She didn't smile, but there was a glint of one in her eyes. Her body shivered visibly.

"We've got a hormone-imbalanced goddess who's on the verge of losing her powers and wants to have her way with you." I wandered over to the side of the tub as I spoke and picked up one of the towels discarded after our bath earlier.

"Which is just not going to happen," Gabrielle added firmly, her eyes avoiding mine.

“So basically, we have nothing.” I pressed the towel against myself, hoping to warm it up a little. “And that leaves Autolycus pretty close to nowhere.”

Gabrielle sighed, lost in thought. She left the chair and sat upon the bed, hugging herself for warmth. “I don't think Artemis or the Amazons will spare him for much longer. Not with the festival climaxing soon.”

I moved in closer, the towel still warming against me. Gabrielle's brow furrowed in thought. "I wonder why an Amazon stole the belt in the first place. I would think most of them revere her."

"There could be any number of reasons. Ambition...power... I thought Velasca would have been a deterrent, but godhood has its draws. Artemis did say that whoever stole it would gain her powers." A thought occurred to me. I sat down on the bed just under an arm's length away from her. "Do you know the full extent of Artemis' abilities? What are we up against?"

Gabrielle's eyes faded into shadow as she leaned forward to yawn. She rubbed at them. “Hard to say…” She sighed as she continued to shiver, her hair and clothes still soaked. “Control of animals, the hunt, maidenhood and chastity… She transformed a man into a stag and had him ripped apart by his own hounds for spying on her while she bathed.”

“She has a real thing for being seen in the buff, doesn't she?” I shook my head, not understanding the deity's inhibitions.

“Yeah.” Gabrielle nodded. “Beyond what I've heard in stories, I'm not sure what else someone might be able to do.”

That pretty much meshed with what I knew. “Here.” I wrapped the towel around her shoulders and brought her close. She resisted slightly at first but soon, if reluctantly, gave in to the warmth both the towel and I offered.

We stayed like that for some time, the weight of unanswerable questions and Autolycus' fate hanging heavily in the air. Don't get me wrong; I love a challenge, but I can't say I'm overly fond of this “rock and a hard place” stage of problem solving. Maybe it was fatigue; gods knew this morning seemed like a damn long time ago. Just thinking about it made me even more tired. It had been an eventful, though not as successful a day as I would have liked. There was probably more than one moment I wouldn't mind having back to do over, fishy love-bites included. I sighed and then felt Gabrielle do the same.

“Xena I—”

“Shh.” I moved closer, whispering, “I should have trusted you. I know better than that.” She glanced at me in wary surprise, no doubt wondering if I was playing with her, but the truth was that I couldn't stand the tension between us any longer.

Gabrielle, now wrapped securely in the towel, looked at me carefully until the look in her eyes softened, and she gave me a small, tentative smile. “The, um, perfume actually isn't bad, but I probably still don't want to know how you got it on you.”

I cleared my throat and looked up at the ceiling beams. “Probably not,” I drawled as I leaned over to snag another towel and begin applying it to her hair, ruffling the long strands until they were a thick, wavy mass of barely damp tangles.

“So what now?” Her voice was muffled beneath the towel.

I drew in a breath and let the wheels turn a few times as I tried to remove the bedraggled decorative feather someone had twined into her hair earlier today. “I wanna get a look at these two Amazons you mentioned. If one of them thinks they're home free, they might lead me right to it.”

“What do you want me to do while you're skulking around?”

Here's where I put my dinars where my mouth is. “I want you to talk to Artemis. Find out what we could be facing if the thief inherits her powers. Try to keep her from following through on killing Autolycus, but keep it subtle.” My stomach tied itself in knots, but I had to let her do this. Artemis, at least, could be trusted not to physically harm Gabrielle, but as for the rest… I fought with the belt's influence, exasperated at the flash of jealousy eating at my insides again.

Silence followed my request. I grimly tried not to smile.

“You want me to talk to her?” Pause. “Alone ?”

The surprise on her face was almost comical, but I tried to hide my amusement with a shrug. “If you don't think you can do it…”

“If I don't think I can…” she trailed off and shook her head almost helplessly. “Did I miss something? I don't understand. I mean… you… are you sure?”

I knew what she was asking. “I'm sure. It's the smartest move anyway. Artemis would rather talk to you than me.” Well, that's putting it mildly .

Gabrielle snorted and rolled her eyes. “I think she'd rather chat up an entire legion of horny Romans while naked than talk to you.”

If she had the wherewithal to crack a joke, even a sarcastic one, maybe we were closer to being back on track with each other. “Like I said. At least I've made a memorable impression on her.”

She stood and squished her way behind the dressing screen to change out of her wet leathers. “Xena, saying you made an impression is like saying that Tartarus is kinda balmy.” A wet halter slapped over the top of the partition, followed quickly by her skirt.

I took it for a compliment and smiled toothily, pleased with her retort.

First one soggy boot appeared, followed by the second, the both of them tossed near the fire to dry. I winced in regret; wet leather tends to shrink and stiffen as it dries and my temper would probably cost her a few blisters tomorrow. While she continued to change, I started removing my own boots; an exercise in minor agony. My foot was a mass of black and purple bruises and visibly swollen. I winced and tried to flex it, annoyed at how much it hurt to move or wiggle my toes. Damn it. I hoped it wouldn't slow me up if I had to face off with either of our suspects tomorrow.

Sighing, I wrested off the rest of my armor and put it to one side of the bed next to my weapons before rising and limping like some kind of useless, klutzy old woman over to where our packs lay on the floor near the wall. I squatted down to retrieve a clean shift of my own when I heard something.

Scritch.

An almost imperceptible thump followed it. From the wardrobe. In seconds I was ripping the door open only to hear a frightened squawk as a flailing figure landed in my arms. “What the Hades?!”

“Your majesty!” It was a woman. A short woman. Wearing too many feathers and too little leather.

I scrunched up my nose; the stench of mead came off her in waves. She stunk like a dead dog. I sniffed again. That had been peed on. “Nope.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder towards the changing screen. “Over there.”

“Your majesty!” The woman swayed as she held out her arms towards Gabrielle who had chosen that moment to stick her head out from behind the barrier.

“Tula ?”

I looked back and forth between them. “Tula ?” I raised my eyebrow in the bard's direction. “Who's Tula?” The second Gabrielle's expression of surprise wiped to fragile innocence, I knew something was up. “Gab-ri-elle .”

“Your majesty?” Tula popped her head around me, looking somewhat concerned. “I thought I was only going to be pleasuring you this evening.”

“WHAT?!” My whole body whipped around to confront Tula who took one wide-eyed look at me and cowered back.

“But-I'm-sure-I-would-love-to-service- you -as-well,” she babbled out in a high squeak.

“Hey!” Gabrielle erupted from behind the screen, half-dressed in only her undergarments and the thin shift she held pressed to her chest. “You're not servicing her!”

Tula 's eyes widened further. “I'm not? But—”

“NO! ”

I winced; I didn't know Gabrielle could project with volume like that.

“Then you're servicing her?” Tula asked tentatively as she pointed at me, hopelessly confused now as to who was going to do what to whom.

I straightened to my full height and crossed my arms over my chest, unable to wait to hear Gabrielle's answer to this one. I raised my eyebrow and looked at Gabrielle expectantly.

“Erk.” Gabrielle looked up at me, her face a picture of flaming ruin, suffused with the most brilliant blush I think I've ever seen her wear. So much for bardic eloquence.

“Well?” I drawled, feeling a sublime level of angry betrayal and dark amusement at her predicament. “Apparently everything that moves wants you . Am I getting some?”

“Xena, this isn't what it looks like.” Gabrielle lifted her hand in a placating gesture. Too bad I wasn't in the mood to be calm. I hardened my expression. She'd have to do better than that. “I, uh, won Tula in that drinking contest.”

“So you entered the contest so you could sleep with her?”

“What? No! Are you kidding? I never thought I had a chance.”

“Well, this is your lucky day, isn't it? The Fates are smiling all over you it seems.”

Gabrielle was looking desperate. “Solari made me do it!”

“Riiiiiiight.”

“No!” she insisted. “Solari challenged the other queen.” She reached out and shook Tula ; a bad decision if the sudden lack of color in the woman's face was anything to go by. “You were there. Tell her.”

Tula 's eyes were a glassy sheen. “Oh, yes! You stood beautiful and proud before us all, gleaming in the firelight. You raised your hand high and challenged my queen for the glory of the Nation. She accepted your challenge and the two of you drank, your throat moving strong and sure as you drank her to her knees!” She swayed with the passion of her tale. I lifted my eyebrow higher and stared menacingly at Gabrielle.

Gabrielle stared at her in abject horror. “That's not what… Xena—” She looked at me, her green eyes wide, stunned. “—It wasn't like that at all!”

“Uh huh.”

Tula slipped around me and draped herself against Gabrielle's side. “Can we go to bed now?” she cooed as she rubbed Gabrielle's very bare shoulder.

I became dimly aware of the grinding squeal reverberating in my head, caused no doubt by the pressure of my jaw, as I bared my teeth at them both in the caricature of a smile. It must not have been pretty because Gabrielle blinked and jerked back from both Tula and myself. “I'm going to check on Argo.” I grabbed my things from the side of the bed, heedless of the clatter and the dragging strap on my breastplate. I just wanted out of there.

“Xena—”

“Enjoy your slave, your majesty.”

The slam of the wooden door was solid and loud, and very, very satisfying. I stood on the porch, looked around and then smiled. Maybe there was a drinking contest or two around here that I could enter…

* * *

Continued in Part 4