PART 4

XXII. There Has To Be a Morning After

The birds roared on the branches outside my window. The sunlight—when I made the mistake of lifting my head—cut through my eyes like shards of glass. My tongue, poisoned by the effects of Amazon brewing techniques, had apparently died in my mouth sometime during the night and proceeded to decompose into a furry, swollen thing that tasted both festering and rancid. In short, I was hung-over.

“Uck.” Keeping my eyes closed, I managed to sit myself up. Bad idea. I clutched my head with both hands to keep it from falling off my shoulders as I rolled very carefully off the bed. Oh, this was not good. Hephaestus's hammer was playing all of Olympus ' greatest hits inside my skull. Even my eyeballs throbbed.

Staggering forward, I did the only thing possible: I squeezed my eyes shut and thrust my head into the chilly old bathwater still in the tub. It had worked last night, after all.

Ker-splash!

I gasped and whipped my wet head back, casting water across the room, the rest of it racing down my skin in chilly rivulets, washing away the lingering urge to sleep. My head still ached fiercely, but at least I felt a little more in focus. What was in that stuff? Just thinking about it made me feel nauseated. Planting one hand carefully against my forehead, I shuffled to the table and sniffed at the decanter sitting next to a small bowl of grapes and apples. It smelled safe. I poured some into a clean cup and took a sip. A light, tart cider coated my mouth to something far more palatable and I swished it around a few times before swallowing. A few grapes followed. Not great for my stomach, but someone might be willing to speak to me from a distance of less than ten feet now.

I detoured to nudge the shutter on the window to darken the room before dropping back down onto the bed. That's when it hit me; Xena had never come back last night.

I'd left space for her, thinking that she might return, but aside from where I had pulled the covers askew during the night, it was mostly undisturbed. My sigh was audible. I guess I couldn't blame her, but it ticked me off that she never even gave me a chance to explain properly, or gave me even the benefit of the doubt.

“This is so crazy,” I said, more comfortable working out my thoughts aloud. The belt was getting stronger, to the point I could no longer distinguish its influence from my own emotional impulses. “It's getting deeper… harder to resist now than ever before.” I didn't like what that boded. Xena and I had nearly parted ways over a simple foot rub. How much worse was it likely to get? The possibilities bothered me, not the least because our relationship was something that I treasured. Depended upon. I'd never felt the level of happiness and fulfillment I had now before I met Xena. A large part of my happiness rested on the foundation of our friendship and the thought of how easily that could be manipulated, how quickly my feelings and perceptions could be twisted and turned.

I dragged my fingers through my wet hair. “This is way past bad.” And the scene with Tula last night had only made it that much worse.

I had paced the hut in agitation and trepidation, forcing back wretched tears, and hoping Xena would come back so we could work things out. Exhausted from everything that had happened, I sat on the bed to wait for her and never realized the moment when I had finally fallen asleep.

And now, in the cold light of day, my memories of the night before lay clear and sharp, distressingly unaffected by last night's excesses. Cringefully so. My face fell into my hands as I remember the overwhelming urge to touch Xena, to feel her skin beneath my fingers… to… Gods, I could feel myself blushing just thinking about it… to touch her and… I pressed my hand against my chest and felt my heart pounding wildly beneath the surface. I could barely even bring myself to think the words. The memory of it was an imprint on my lips; a touch of velvet, a taste of musk against my tongue.

“No!” I lurched off the bed, as if trying to physically distance myself from the memory would make it less true. Less real. “Oh gods, oh gods…” I paced the room, pressing my palms hard against my eyes, feeling embarrassed and confused and restlessly charged. Was it the belt? Was it me? Where was this coming from? Frustrated, I dropped my hands and stared sightlessly at a patch of early morning sunlight on the wall opposite the window, wondering if what I'd done was part of why Xena wasn't here now. “Could you blame her?” I asked myself glumly.

I knew she was angry with Artemis and, if I were honest, I knew the goddess' behavior had quickly become far more attentive and affectionate than was strictly necessary (even if there were too many precedents to count) or appropriate (gods didn't seem to have the same sense of social niceties) or, more still—appreciated (thank the gods for the bear!). But each time it happened, it almost seemed as if I were watching myself, letting it happen, rather than actively participating. “I wish you understood that,” I whispered to my absent companion. To date, I hadn't encouraged Artemis. But you haven't exactly di s couraged her either, have you? my conscience pointed out. And each time Artemis had stood too close, let her touch linger or sought some expression of intimacy I was fairly certain was only one-sided I had allowed it, somehow, to happen.

Sunlight was pouring into the room and I knew that if I wanted to go and find Xena before she ran off on her mission, I'd have to hurry. But was there really any point? “Good luck finding out where she is now, anyway.” Checking on Argo could mean anything from a quick grooming and sleeping in the hay next to her horse to disappearing for a couple of days and forcing me to sit tight until she returned. Given how close we were to Brauronia we couldn't afford for me to hang around doing nothing. Autolycus certainly couldn't. This meant I couldn't wait around for Xena to decide to show up again or to use time trying to find her for a “sensitive chat” regardless of how much I might want to. I sighed. “ Tim e to get to work.”

Okay then. I tapped my lips with one finger, thinking carefully. So… step one in getting a goddess' most intimate secrets…

* * *

XXIII. Rough Necking

Morning sucked already.

For starters, my neck was stiff. Sleeping on straw in a stable is highly overrated, no matter what you've heard. Even with the bedroll, something was missing—campfire maybe? Whatever happened, it did a real number on my neck. I could barely turn it.

My one consolation was that the night before seemed to score high casualties among the Amazons. Many lay on the ground unconscious. Many others, the unfortunate awake ones, groaned, face down in the dirt.

Did I mention that my back hurt, too? Maybe I'm getting too old for the whole traveling warrior thing, or maybe a chill messed with me, but I felt as though Argo had put the hooves to me in the middle of the night. Actually, considering how she'd been carrying on yesterday, that may be something I might want to take a look into after all of this…

Then there was my foot. To say there was swelling would be beyond my usual capacity for understatement. I would say it was in the painful neighborhood between ballooning and becoming a shorter, bloated, slightly-more-purple version of me. My mind (in an effort to protect me, no doubt) had erased the memory of slipping my boot on.

But you'd have to rip my toenails out before I'd ever admit to any or all of this. On my right foot of course, as the left one may be lacking in the toenail department—although, given the nature and ferociousness of the swelling, they may have still been there for all I knew. It was all I could do to disguise my limp as I moved gingerly through the village. There was no need to expose any potential weakness to our suspect. After all, they could be anyone.

One thing that kept me going was the good ole fashioned anger seething in the pit of my belly. Everything was feeding it. The birds. The bees. The flowers. The trees. Rhyming inside of my head. Everything.

What seemed to work the best was anything remotely related to and especially including Amazons. The way they built their huts, arranged them in stupid little rows made me want to take a torch or siege engine to them. The feathers they wore, the weapons they waved around: don't even get me started. Then there were their customs, their games. I mean, a drinking contest? For the honor of the tribe? Body-slaves?

This brought me to the smoldering little center of my irritation—her highness. My foot seemed to throb an extra beat just thinking about her. What was she thinking? Drinking with Amazons? Dancing with nymphs? Getting her feet fondled by that Athena-wannabe?

Did she say that Artemis had tried to kiss her?

I shook my head in disgust. Bad idea when you have a stiff neck. In a word: ouch. Stars danced before my eyes as enough pain flooded my head to make my eyes water. Perfect, I thought as I wiped them carefully dry on my forearm. At least there wasn't anyone around to think I was crying.

What was Gabrielle thinking?

Then there was what happened on the way back to the hut. The kissing. On the neck. I'm sure the majority of it can be blamed on that stupid belt and the fact that if Gabrielle even looks at alcohol she gets drunk, but some of what she was doing had to come from somewhere. Didn't it?

How do I explain what I was feeling? I only have the belt as an excuse, and I wasn't going to give Pointy-face the satisfaction of admitting it anyway. Did I storm out of there last night because I was mad? Or was Gabrielle right? Was I jealous?

Or was I guilty?

The things I felt when she was doing what she was doing—Gods, I'd rather not go back there. I felt ashamed in a way. I'm not even sure how I resisted. Well, maybe I am. Gabrielle was such a dear friend, feeling that about her when she was in such an obviously vulnerable condition was just wrong. It was so Old Xena. So Bad Xena .

That's totally what it was, too. Succumbing to the spell of her supple body, exquisitely draped in the leathers of her Amazon outfit; the urge to slide my hand over the bare skin of her back into the hair at the back of her head; wanting to pull her head back and devour her lips with my own—those were all so Old Xena, Bad Xena.

Poor Gabrielle, this belt was turning me into some kind of menace. I was lucky to control myself last night, but what would happen if the belt's influence continued to strengthen? By tonight I might have to chain myself to a fencepost. Especially if Gabrielle continued to wear Amazon garb—it was just so revealing. In all the right places, too. I wasn't going to pester the bard about her morning exercises ever again; she had obviously been doing them and more. I had especially noticed the definition in Gabrielle's thigh muscles as that ditz Tula had run her hands all up and down them. My jaw tightened. Anger welled within me again.

Thinking about the night before, I was almost glad that I dumped her highness into that tub of crow-water. Things were too intense, too mixed up. I didn't know whether I would tear her apart or tear her clothes off. The moment needed to be broken, I needed space, needed to breathe. Gabrielle definitely needed the cold dunk.

I stopped. I was in front of the Queen's hut. There didn't seem to be any activity going on from what I could hear. Should I peek in the window? I wondered. And what, catch Gabrielle snuggled asleep with her body-slave, or worse? It just didn't seem to be the best way to avoid what the belt was making me feel.

I sighed to myself. That damn thing could have cost me my friendship with Gabrielle. If things progressed who knows what would happen. I had to stop wasting time moping around the village and get this whole mess sorted out.

As I left, I did my best to catch a glimpse inside the hut, but I couldn't see anything. Maybe it was for the best.

=+=+=

If there was ever a better time to attack the Amazons, I'd be hard-pressed to think of one. Many of the scattered tribes were gathered here in one place and many suffered the same problem: excess partying. Half the job was already done.

Walking toward the jail, I passed the unconscious and semi-conscious forms of countless Amazon sisters, strewn moaning and groaning throughout the streets and across the wagons. There was even one face down on top of a hut. Maybe it was just me, but for such a bleak image, it was all pretty funny.

Maybe it was just me…

What made it even funnier was Autolycus. I arrived at the jail and made my way past the groggy guards inside. There were unconscious and hung-over Amazons there as well, along with a myriad of signs that a huge party had taken place. In the midst of it all, at the apex of the feathers, and empty bottles, flagons and barrels, at the eye of the proverbial storm was the sulking and brooding face of Autolycus, the King of Thieves, who sat, arms on his knees, chin in his hands, on the floor of his cell.

Maybe it was just me, but for such a bleak image, it was all pretty funny.

I grinned as toothily as possible, after all, there seemed to be someone less enchanted with this place, this situation, than I was. “Well, look who's all saggy under the mustache this morning.”

“Believe it or not, my friend,” Autolycus began, never turning to look at me. “You've managed to find a way to not only make my life worse, but also—and here's where it takes real skill, so hat's off—also, you've managed to make me sympathize with Artemis.” Finally, he scowled up at me

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, now I want to kill you, too.” He smirked.

Maybe it was just me…

I leaned against the cell, gesturing to the Amazon shrapnel scattered on the floor. “Aw, come on, it must have been some show last night, huh?”

“You have no idea.” He stood, stretching and groaning. “For such a miserable bunch, they really go squirrelly after a couple of drinks.”

I rolled my eyes, taking into account my own ‘experiences' from the night before. “ You have no idea.”

Autolycus grinned. “What? Is there trouble in the Queen's hut?”

“What?” I crossed my arms and turned to face him.

“Y-you know.” He seemed uncertain. “With Gabrielle?”

I nodded, looking down. “Well, the belt is definitely having an… affect on her…”

“I'll bet!” He chuckled.

I turned, looking straight into his eyes. What's gotten into him? “It's not funny.”

He looked embarrassed. “Uh…sorry… it's just that…you know… what with what happened to the slaver woman and all…I just thought…”

“What Gabrielle does is her business, okay?” Pushing the image of Tula out of my mind, I gripped the bars and brought my face close. “Maybe you should shut up before I give you something worse than the wrath of a Goddess and her nation of bloodthirsty followers to worry about.”

Autolycus looked hurt—honestly hurt. “Hey…I'm sorry.” He blinked. “Sounds like the belt is affecting everyone. She can't be held responsible; no one can.” He seemed confused as he stared at me, trying to figure out what was going on in my head, presumably. Maybe he came to some kind of conclusion because a look of understanding dawned in his eyes and he seemed almost sympathetic.

I loosened my grip on the bars and realized I had been holding my breath. My anger rose again, this time because I let that stupid thing get the better of me again. Stepping back, I turned away and sighed. “No, Autolycus, I—I'm sorry. You're right, I was being…” I rubbed at my eyes.

“It's okay,” he said softly then cleared his throat. “So, any news? As much as I like hanging around here, I wouldn't mind leaving and never coming back. Ever .”

That made me turn and smile. “We have a couple of leads we're going to follow up on.” I leaned in to whisper. “It was an Amazon.”

“Really?” The King of Thieves' eyebrow rose in admiration. “Who would have thought? Makes sense though. Any idea which one took it?”

I nodded. “There're two we're looking at, maybe you've seen them. Mia's a tough looking brunette and Shawna's the sleek, dangerous blonde?”

“Yeah.” He smirked, coupled with a sardonic roll of the eyes. “That narrows it down.”

“Come on, think.” I looked around. “Maybe they were your guards?”

Recognition flashed across his face. “Oh yeah, I remember them.” He thought for a moment then nodded. “Yeah, now it makes sense…”

“What?” I was impatient. “What makes sense?”

“Well…they were my guards yesterday—both of them at the same time.” He nodded. “They were the two assigned to watch me after I left you.”

“Okay. Go on.”

He chuckled. “They did not like each other, that's for sure.”

“How's that?”

“They had some kind of argument right in front of me.” He seemed disappointed. “I couldn't really hear what it was about exactly, but now that you mention it, it sounded like it could have been about the belt.”

“And?” Why, when people tell a story, do they have to take so long to relate it? My wariness of shortcuts did not apply when it came to information—the more succinct the better as far as I was concerned. I gave Autolycus the 'wrap-it-up' sign. “What did you hear?”

“Well, let's see.” He tried to remember. “One of them—the brunette, Mia?—mentioned that what Shawna did wouldn't go unpunished.”

“Interesting…go on…”

“Then Shawna said something about how they both wanted the same thing and that she's been more than willing to share but…”

“‘But'?” This was taking too long. “Come on.”

“But —” he said, mocking my impatience. “Mia had been too selfish and wanted it all to herself.” He smiled. “Then they started trying to grab each other, you know, like as though they were about to start to wrestle or something? So I cracked a joke, like, how there was no need to start fighting over me and how there was enough of me to go around, you know, that whole bit?”

“I love that one.” I nodded, lying. “Then?”

His lips became a thin line. “Well, then they stopped fighting and uh…kinda stopped talking.” He shrugged. “They didn't say a word for the rest of the shift.”

I rolled my eyes. Right back where we started…nowhere… I reined in my compulsion to grab the King of Thieves by the scruff of the neck and sighed instead. “So… Autolycus…which one do you suspect has the belt now?”

“I have no idea. I would say that Shawna would be the best bet.”

“Wonderful.” I began heading for the door. “I'll let you know how it goes.”

“Hey wait!” He called from behind me.

“What?” Autolycus had a strange look then. I thought he was just going to wish me good luck or something along those lines, but he had this complex, concerned look that I would never have imagined on his face in a million years. “What is it?” I asked again.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Good luck.”

I smiled, though somewhat confused. “You too.”

Now all I had to do was find Shawna wherever she was hiding in the village and the half-naked, half-drunken rubble spread across it. Taking a breath of the crisp morning air I grinned widely. It was a tough job but someone had to do it…

* * *

XXIV. Pretty Woman

The mid-morning sun shone warmly against my shoulders as I took the steps down from my hut and strolled slowly towards the common area, my head high and my shoulders back, projecting a confidence and strength I had spent the last two hours talking myself into. I paused at the edges of the aftermath of last night's celebration, taking in the view of devastation. A slight exaggeration, I admit, but really, had I not known there'd been a party I might have yelled for the guard; with the bodies sprawled about in various states of disarray and everything else trashed, it looked like an invasion force had hit us.

With the exception of the occasional soft, muffled groan, the village was very quiet. “Looks like I'm the only one up so far.” That was okay. I could use a little bit more time to psyche myself up. One surreptitious glance down confirmed that the great pains I'd taken with my appearance still held; all the feathers, decorations and do-dads were in place. Conscious of the possibility of eyes on me, I deliberately paused, letting the morning silhouette me, catching on the highlights in my thoroughly-brushed hair and the shiny edges of the jewelry and feathers I'd carefully adorned myself with.

Then, taking a page from Xena's book, I added a swagger to my stride as I headed for Artemis' quarters. Two Amazons sitting slumped in the shadows of a hut watched my approach, their visibly bloodshot eyes avidly following the gentle sway of my body. Their faces grew more familiar as I got closer. Their eyes also grew wider as they identified me in turn.

“Good morning, Solari, Eponin,” I drawled, pleased with their unabashed admiration as well as the fact that I appeared to be handling my hangover better than they were theirs. I waved off their clumsy attempts to get respectfully to their feet. “No, no. Sit down. You don't look like you're ready to move around too much yet.” I smiled.

Eponin sighed in relief and gratefully resumed her spot on the ground, her head falling back to rest against the wall behind her. “No, ma'am,” she agreed very, very quietly. Her strong face was pale and tired, and I stared curiously at the freshly minted black eye she was sporting.

“Have either of you seen Xena?”

“Nope,” Eponin whispered.

“Not since she walked through here with you in her arms while you sucked on her nec—Ow!” Solari rubbed her arm where the other Amazon had elbowed her.

Oh my gods. Had I done that in front of the entire village? Any embarrassment I might have felt was immediately sidetracked when I noticed that Solari was wet from head to toe. “Um, partied hard?” I gestured to her soaking leathers.

Solari looked at me woefully. “I'm not sure. But when I woke up this morning I was lying on Cook's chopping block next to the tomatoes.”

“In nothing but her top,” Eponin added helpfully.

Solari elbowed her friend. “Hey!”

The weapons-master, however, was made of sterner stuff. “She was covered in honey and decorated with peeled garlic cloves.”

I laughed gently. “After the trouble you caused me with that drinking contest, you definitely earned that.”

Solari blushed and Eponin chuckled.

The red-faced Amazon poked her friend. “Laugh it up. Maybe I should tell her majesty where you woke up? And how?”

Eponin snapped her mouth shut with a click, her fingers going automatically to her face before she caught herself and lowered her hand.

“That bad, huh?” I asked, trying not to smile too widely.

“Let's just say she wasn't alone.” Solari grinned. Eponin glared at her.

Heading off the imminent violence radiating from Eponin's bloodshot eyes, I leaned over and interrupted. “Have you seen Artemis?”

Both women shrugged and shook their heads. “Sorry, your majesty.”

Damn. “If you happen to see Xena will you tell her that I've gone looking for Artemis?” At least that way Xena would know I was following through on her strategy from last night. Between the effects of the belt and the even more pressing run-down on time, I knew we were probably going to wind up cutting this one close. Assuming we can solve it at all. And where would that leave us? How far did the goddess' influence range? Would the Amazons be defenseless, caught in the trap of the belt's influence? Or worse yet, the machinations of someone with less than good intentions? Crap . “Is anyone on patrol or do they all look like you two?” Bad enough to have problems from within, but with slavers in the area, the last thing we needed was an outside incursion to deal with as well.

“I assigned a handful last night,” Eponin answered, but her dark brows drew together in sudden thought and she looked far more alert.

“You're sure they're still sober?” I didn't want to question her guards' discipline, but this was the biggest holiday of the Amazon culture. Who wouldn't feel left out having to stand duty on the edges of the village while everyone else lived it up within your hearing?

Eponin opened her mouth to answer and then turned to look at Solari who raised her eyebrows in return. Eponin climbed to her feet with surprising ease and held a hand down to Solari while keeping her attention steady on me. “Are we expecting trouble?”

You have no idea . But I didn't dare tell her; with all the significance of the upcoming ceremony the loss of Artemis' belt, and further—her powers, would be seen as the worst omen possible. “Let's just say that with the ceremony approaching I'd prefer we cover all the bases.” I looked off towards the treetops, wondering what else Xena might do. “I'd like a report in two candle-marks on our preparedness. What was our level of effectiveness last night? Do we need to make changes for tonight and tomorrow? If you can't find me, I want you to brief Xena. She may have further orders for you.”

“Understood.” Eponin inclined her head towards me and then slapped the back of her hand against Solari's shoulder. “Let's go.” I watched them head off at the quickest determined pace their individual hangovers would allow. As soon as they rounded the corner, I heard the beginnings of a fading conversation:

“Did you see the way she looked?”

“I know. Put your tongue back in your mouth and pick up the pace.”

I rubbed my nose and grinned. Looks like the outfit was worth the effort. But now it was time to see if Artemis would think the same thing and if I could turn that to my advantage. I squared my shoulders and headed towards Artemis' hut, hoping she was in.

+=+=+

There was no answer when I knocked, so I poked my head in wondering if she might be sleeping. Do the gods sleep? The antechamber appeared deserted and the overall feel of the place was quiet and empty. If I was going to put my plan into play, it had to start now. I took one deep breath to get me going and then pushed the door wide open and walked into the room as if it were still mine.

My eyes roamed over the room, but little had been disturbed since I'd last been here. “Artemis,” I called. “If you can hear me, I'd like to speak with you.” There—polite, but firm. I stood expectantly in the middle of the room, adopting a dignified pose, my hands clasped behind my back. I had a feeling it displayed my front to greater advantage while still maintaining a regal profile. Given her recent behavior, I figured Artemis might appreciate it.

Having experienced it once, I thought that I was prepared for her appearance, but the wash of silky summer breeze over my skin was like a lover's caress, stirring the fine hairs across my body and making me shiver. A ghostly hint of strawberries spilled across my palate and I swallowed, feeling a subtle hunger in spite of my unsettled stomach. The air in front of me lightened, as if a sunbeam had tumbled through the ceiling, swirling inside with dancing motes and the shutter-quick flit of the suggestion of butterfly wings that drew both light and shadow. I was mesmerized. Her appearance was so gradual, I was almost uncertain when she finally stood before me, solid and still once again.

“Good morning,” I said, taking control immediately. Instead of fighting the effects of her appearance, I went with it and was surprised to find that I recovered my composure all the faster for doing so. Mind you, it was still rather intoxicating. I couldn't help but notice that she had changed her attire; leather boots over soft-looking, doe-colored leggings with a belted, sleeveless tunic overtop. A small silver torque rested in the hollow of her throat.

She remained exactly where she was, almost disconcertingly close. “And to you, Gabrielle. You called for me?”

I nodded. “I thought we could talk about your belt some more. Maybe go over the ceremony.”

Her eyes flickered over my shoulder. “Xena's not with you. Where's your so-called hero?”

Boy, someone was in a snarky mood this morning. “She's following up on some leads. I thought this would be a good time for you and me to get together. And talk.” Unlike our previous encounters, I didn't shy away or attempt to put distance between us. Instead, I lifted my chin and simply looked at her. From the way she returned my gaze, I wondered if there was such a thing as having a mission be too successful.

Artemis crossed her bare arms over her chest. “I fail to see what good it will do.”

Snarky and depressed. “Let's sit and work it through; you never know what bit of information might give us a new lead to work on.” I put my hand on her forearm and gently pulled her towards me. The muscles beneath my fingers tensed briefly, but almost at once I felt her give in. “C'mon,” I urged her with a smile. With considerable docility she trailed along behind me, a somewhat bemused expression on her face.

I led her to the fur-covered divan and let her sit first before settling myself close beside her, folding my legs beneath me and allowing the hem of my skirts to rise ever so slightly. She noticed. I watched her hard slate eyes follow the line of my legs, to my bare mid-riff, stutter over my cleavage until they found my face as I rested my arm along the sloping back edge of the couch. There was an edginess to her, an uncertainty and I smiled. I could feel the laziness of it, the curl of my lips. For the first time since I'd met her face-to-face I felt in control, and it gave me an unfamiliar surge of confidence and power as a result.

“We need to know more about the belt,” I began. “Is there anything you've left out that we should know about?”

“Why do you ask?” Artemis' brows drew together, her tone wary.

“Someone out there has your belt and, according to you, will inherit your abilities by tomorrow night if we don't get it back. We need to know what we'll be dealing with if that happens.”

Her face darkened at the mention of her loss and she turned her face away towards the window. “I can barely feel the forest anymore,” she said softly.

I put my hand over hers and was surprised to find it cold. It was an easy thing to tuck my hand around hers and the contact brought her attention back to me. “We're going to try really hard to get your belt back, but we can't do it without your help. So tell me; how bad could things get?”

Artemis gathered herself, but her eyes dropped to where my hand held hers. “Without enforcing control, all creatures will be brought to a baser expression of their emotions. Animals and people alike look to their own self-interests in their pursuit of survival…” Her brow wrinkled in thought. “I would expect violence, possessiveness over perceived territory, a feral wildness that intensifies whatever people might be feeling at any given moment.”

Ah. “Like jealousy, for example?” I could still feel the residual churn in my belly at the thought of Xena with another woman.

Artemis smirked darkly. “Even the Warrior Princess will not escape its influence.”

It was no doubt a jab at Xena over her behavior last night. I decided not to address it. “Do we have any time before the thief figures out how to control the belt?”

Her jaw tightened and she shrugged. “I can't guess, but I suspect I'll lose my powers tomorrow, at moonrise, when we dance. How long it takes for them to figure out the trick of controlling things…” Artemis shook her head.

“And there's nothing else you can tell me? No other abilities that they'll be able to take advantage of? Something?” I pressed.

“No! I don't know!” she barked and rose to her feet. Artemis paced the room, worrying the tip of her braid between her fingers. “I've told you everything I can think of; animals, the woods, the hunt… I help mothers in childbirth and embody chastity and emotional restraint. These are my spheres of influence! Apollo outshines me and Aphrodite mocks me, while Athena and Ares each condescend to me in their own way; she decries my youth and he deems me undisciplined! And Zeus… Zeus is a negligent father. He'll only mark my absence when it occurs to him that he wants something of me.” She threw her hands in the air. “Is there a worse fate than this? I can think of no greater punishment than to be laid so low as to be forced to bestride the world in wretched humanity! It's unbearable!” Artemis snatched up the decanter from a side table and hurled it with shocking force to explode in a dangerous spray of pottery shards against the far wall.

I pressed back against the couch and gasped at her show of rage.

She tried to depart, then; the sunlit column of light enveloped her swiftly and I felt the wave of her power as it manifested itself, phasing her in and out of my sight before dying away and leaving her standing there in front of me. She tried again. And again. Each effort produced less and less a result until finally nothing happened at all.

Her power had, in spite of her best guess, failed her already.

“No…” The mask of desolation and pain was heart-wrenching and she turned wounded eyes on me, pale with shock and disbelief. “Not yet. Please, not yet…” Artemis looked to me and I was touched by her fear and her anguish, by her stark vulnerability. “It can't be gone, Gabrielle.” Her eyes glistened and before I could stop to think about it, I went to her and took her in my arms. She trembled as she clutched at me. “I can't live like this! I can't… Please, I beg of you… help me…”

All pride and arrogance had been stripped away right in front of my eyes. “I will. It'll be okay.” She leaned into me, her forehead falling to my shoulder. I could feel the hot-cold splash of tears against my skin and I hugged her tighter. “We'll find it.” I rubbed the back of her neck comfortingly, wishing I had the first clue of what to do for her. “The other gods won't help?”

Artemis gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, for certain; they'll help by destroying the thief and taking my powers for their own. I dare not draw attention to myself.”

Power struggles. The push and pull of divine boredom taken out on the hapless lives of mortals. I couldn't see Aphrodite or Athena doing so, but Ares? I couldn't see him passing up the chance for a few extra followers. And something tells me he wouldn't mind adding the Amazons to his stable of warriors. As if we didn't have enough reasons for getting her belt back already.

Unlike before, in the tree, her weeping now was quiet and deep—the grieving of a very lost soul. I felt so badly for her. “Hey,” I whispered, drawing back to see her eyes. Her cheek was hectic and warm beneath my hand. “You can't give up hope. We have almost two days still. Something's bound to give, you'll see.” My optimistic nature couldn't help but look for the possibilities.

She nodded hesitantly, wanting to hope, but even still; I could see the doubt shadowing her eyes. “I want you to know…” She paused, swallowing, and considered her words. “I want you to know how much your support and your efforts have meant to me, Gabrielle. It is no small task you've taken on and… and I won't ever forget this, though I doubt my ability to repay the debt. Of a certain, just this would never be enough…” Smoothly, the tears still trickling down her face, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine. Goddess or no, powers or no, I was still shocked into thrall, unable to stop her and even less able to pull away. Oh gods…

Her mouth was warm and soft and I, even inexperienced as I was, could sense her own innocence and uncertainty. The contact was incendiary. I wanted to control her, consume her, to own her mouth, and the power of that longing—that on top of everything else—only heightened my desire. The hunger was a needful thing, demanding more as her lips found my jaw and then my throat. Yes . I slid my hands along her skin feeling the strong muscles flex and move as her hands found me. Gods, it felt good! I exhaled hard, my hands gripping her arms as my head fell back. I wanted her to kiss me again. I couldn't believe this was happening… Finally… Her mouth found mine again, more confidently this time, and I murmured her name against her lips…

Everything stopped.

Confused, I opened my eyes and was aghast to see Artemis staring at me with a blank, unreadable expression. Without a word she dropped her hands from me and left; her silent, accusing footsteps echoing the hollow pounding of my heart in the still and empty room.

It was not Artemis' name I had whispered.

* * *

XXV. Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut… (or Squirrel Interrupted)

I like to keep things simple.

Maybe that's why I found becoming a warrior so natural a process. It all comes down to skill versus skill, blow versus blow, tactic against scheme until, in the end, the better warrior is victorious. Someone wins, someone loses. Simple.

Sneaking around, getting to the bottom of things, that's not really a warrior's job. It's unnecessarily complicated, vague work—not simple and straight forward at all. Oh sure, being a solitary warrior, you find yourself forced to do this sort of thing a lot of the time. Let's face it; a warlord's camp doesn't just up and scout itself. But I can't say it's what makes me get out of bed and do this everyday.

Whether I enjoyed it or not, I didn't have much trouble finding Mia. She was one of the only Amazons that seemed to be moving with any sort of purpose that morning. I spotted her heading in a straight line out of the village through the trees, straight toward the river. I followed at an even pace about a hundred yards away.

There are three rules to trailing someone. I know I said I didn't like doing this sort of thing, that doesn't mean I don't do it well. I have many skills. Anyway, the rules: first, no matter how far away you are, you want to stay in your quarry's blind spot—it just makes good sense and unless they get lucky, they won't spot you.

Second, be mindful of the noises around you. Are there buzzing bugs, chirping birds? Wind? Leaves blowing? A river? Take stock of them all and don't disturb their natural rhythms. Move steadily and with fluid movements. Don't upset the undertone of your surroundings, become a part of it. Sounds wishy-washy, but it works.

Finally—this rule sounds easy, but it's the one everyone always seems to break—don't get too close, don't get too far. The problem with this one is there's no one particular distance that is correct, it varies with any given situation and terrain. In a city, a crowded one like Rome or Athens , you can follow someone so close you could touch them—sometimes that's the best way.

Out there in the forest, a hundred yards was a better bet. Especially allowing for the heightened sense and familiarity of the woods Mia no doubt possessed. I also kept to the shadows as much as I could. The morning light cast them like dark spears through the trees, which served me well. I know a lot of people think I got it made just for the looks, but this armor and leather number is surprisingly invisible under the right conditions.

Mia continued on toward the river. Her pace remained steady, although she occasionally slowed before picking things up again. She seemed to be tracking someone, too. Pretty funny, I guess. Ironic, to be precise, or, Gabrielle-like.

With a sigh, I wondered if Gabrielle was even going to bother with her task for the morning. Then I thought better. It involved hanging out with Artemis, so probably.

As with the Amazons, I just couldn't see the attraction the goddess held for the bard. I mean, she seemed so un-Gabrielle. Artemis was laconic; an enigmatic loner more interested in hunting and war craft than literature or philosophy. A goddess who chose action rather than talk when it came to her feelings or problems. I couldn't see how Gabrielle would be interested in someone like that.

Suddenly, Mia crouched, so I did the same. Maybe her quarry had stopped or caught sight of her. The Amazon crawled slowly through the underbrush. I decided to hit the high ground so I could get a closer look. One good thing about this part of Greece ; the trees were great for climbing. I was soon up in the canopy and moving toward Mia.

As I leaped from one large oak to another, my ears were filled with a loud, very annoying chattering. I looked up to where the sound was coming from in time to notice a handful of hazelnuts headed straight for my face.

For some reason I was possessed to say: “By the Gods—” before I could catch myself, as the nuts ricocheted off my cheeks. I backed up and saw my attackers: a family of flying squirrels who appeared far more vicious than one would think possible. I waved my hand at them menacingly. “Beat it!” I whispered.

More chattering erupted from the things, a possessed look in their tiny eyes. I never understood why people thought they were cute; they were just rats with bushy tails to me. They pelted me with acorns this time. I growled at them, resisting the impulse to take the chakram to their little nest. Instead, I leaped to another branch, landing quietly. The slight jolt shook a hazelnut free from my hair and into my breastplate. I cursed under my breath, as it wedged uncomfortably in there against my skin.

I looked down to find my quarry. My eyes widened in surprise. Mia was standing over Shawna and another woman, who seemed to be clutching each other, in fear perhaps. I quieted my breathing (which was aggravated by the irritating nut chaffing around in my armor) so I could hear what was being said.

Mia moved closer to the prone figures. “—why I never trusted you.”

The other woman—Shawna's accomplice perhaps?—bowed her head. Shawna sneered up at Mia. “You never trusted her because you would have done the exact same thing if you had the chance.”

“Shut up, thief!” Mia raged, pacing oddly. This really seemed to be getting to her. Shawna was the thief, then?

“I only took what you could never appreciate,” Shawna retorted. So, Mia took the belt then Shawna took it from her?

Shawna began to get to her feet. Mia fell upon her and the two began to roll about on the forest floor. If one of them had the powers of the belt, they weren't using it. The two Amazons were clawing and biting and punching for all they were worth. It was a pretty vicious business, due in part, I suspected, to the influence of the belt.

“The weapons-master was no match for me, what makes you think you'll be?” Mia taunted.

Shawna flipped Mia over and punched her in the gut. “Eponin was drunk and half-unconscious already when you blind-sided her.”

The other woman got to her feet and, after biting at her hands for a bit, screamed, “Stop fighting over me!”

I blinked in disbelief and then scrubbed a hand across my face in disgust. “I don't believe this...” I whispered through gritted teeth. “You've gotta be kidding me…”

The battling Amazons didn't seem to hear the woman's cries, but I did. My blood began to churn as I started to get the picture. Plus, that nut was driving me crazy. I dropped down out of the trees.

“Okay, break it up, ladies.” I grabbed Shawna by the ponytail and Mia by the top of her head and lifted them to their feet. Then I clanked their skulls together and let them fall to the ground in a daze. “Now, listen to me: Mia—” she blinked glassy-eyed at me, “—you're going to back off. Your little friend has moved on and you should respect that, right? And you—” I turned to Shawna. “You're going to stop acting so cocky; if Mia snuck up on me like that in my own neck of the woods, I wouldn't be so smug.” I nodded toward the other woman. “I didn't catch your name.”

She turned, slightly embarrassed. “Eserra.”

“Well, Eserra… Smarten up! ” I bellowed. “Maybe if you actually respected yourself you wouldn't jump on everything with two legs and a heartbeat. It causes everyone headaches they don't need, especially the weapons-master, who's got more important things to worry about.” They were all blinking at me, mouths agape. I crossed my arms. “Now, you can pack things up here and go back to the village yourselves, or I can do it for you.” I gave them ‘the Eyebrow.' “What's it gonna be?”

Mia got to her feet and dusted off her leathers, she had a big sulk on her face but seemed like she would comply. The other two preened each other lovingly, not paying attention to the outside world. Soon, they got to their feet as well.

I scratched at my breastplate, that nut was still in there causing a major itch. I couldn't take it anymore and began attacking myself, my armor, shaking it and pulling at it and jumping, until finally, by the Gods, that cursed hazelnut dropped to the ground. I punted it into the air in the direction of the squirrels. “Ha,” I laughed, fiercely, though quietly in triumph.

Looking up, I noticed the three women casting dubious looks my way. I cleared my throat. “Right,” I said by way of an explanation and stormed off toward the village. I could swear I heard chattering from up in the trees.

To say I was frustrated would be like saying Oedipus had ‘family problems'—I was livid. As I've said before, I like things simple and the situation was becoming more complicated by the second. We started with two suspects and now had none. In fact, we had no evidence at all, except that an Amazon stole the belt. I was still sure of that, at least.

I stopped in my tracks.

If the likely culprit was still an Amazon hiding in plain sight, what was I doing in the forest and not in the Amazon village?

I broke into a sprint, headed directly for the Queen's hut.

* * *

XXVI. Of Amazon Bondage

I couldn't tell how long I'd been standing there after Artemis left me. On wooden legs I drifted back to the divan and slowly sat down, my fingers going to my lips. My warm and traitorous lips. “I can't believe I did that,” I whispered. How could I have let that happen?

There had been no warning, no sense of crossing the line from right to wrong this time, no internal signal to mark the moment when I had somehow… accepted her attentions, and worse… desired them. What unnerved me the most, however, was the sudden and disorienting warp in my perceptions of what had been going on—and what's more… who I was with. “I can't…” I covered my face with my hands and then ran them through my hair. “…can't believe this.”

Gone were Artemis' powers, and with it all obvious signs of the belt's influence as well. How could I know what I really was or wasn't feeling from moment to moment?

The ramifications of that were obvious. “Xena's gonna freak.”

Great. “So now I have a defrocked goddess wandering around all pissed off, with other gods likely looking to put her permanently out of the picture. This just gets better and better.” I'd have to go find Artemis and put her under wraps until Xena managed to find the belt before something bad happened—as if what had already happened wasn't bad enough. “Damn it.”

I headed for the door, thinking furiously about where Artemis was likely headed. Artemis, by nature, was too much of a loner to want to wander around the village, which meant that as soon as I could pick up my staff from my hut, I'd be heading out into the woods.

+=+=+

I tucked my staff in the curve of my arm as I took a drink from my waterskin and listened to the quiet call and twitters of the birds in the trees overhead. An hour on the trail and I'd already managed to lose her. The tracks I'd picked up at Artemis' doorway that had led me into the woods had disappeared about ten minutes ago, but I'd kept wandering back and forth across my last sighting until, frustrated, I'd decided to stop for a break. The trees were empty but for the birds and the occasional squirrel, and nothing else around me moved.

“Just where did you go?” The goddess of hunting… reasonably, she could be anywhere given her ability to trail game and hide at will. It was beginning to look as though coming out here without someone more experienced in tracking was a mistake. I decided to give it one last try before heading back to the village. “Artemis!” I called. “Can you hear me?” Nothing but bird song. “Rats.”

A fallen trunk at knee-level beckoned to me so I crossed over and took a seat. Had I missed something? Maybe there's a clue back along the trail, especially if she doubled back on me…

“Now, who would've thought this'd be so easy?” A low and husky voice behind me asked and I immediately shot forward and spun around, my staff at the ready.

A man and woman stood before me. He was one of those long-haired giants who manage to avoid even an accidental acquaintanceship with a bath, and she… My gods . She had a stunning figure; full-breasted, rounded hips, both of which were barely covered by some impractical looking chain-mail armor. Her fall of auburn hair failed to cover a curiously spectacular looking goose-egg of a bruise swelling from her forehead. With the exception of that, she looked like something straight out of those pin-up paintings I've seen in blacksmiths' repair shops.

Now, usually it's the guys, but I felt her gaze like a greasy smear on my skin. Her companion stepped forward, balancing the head of his club in the palm of his left hand.

“C'mere, sweetness,” she crooned through pouty lips. “We won't hurt you, a lot.”

“I don't think so.” I took another step back and took a firmer grip on my staff. Her accent was unfamiliar to me, but her companion's weapon made me suspect he was a slaver. Being so far away from the village—and on my own—I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't hear anything behind me so I took another step back.

“I don't think she likes us, Iskra,” the man said as he started swinging his club lazily at his side.

“Goodness, Nao, I think you're right. Pity that doesn't matter at all,” she replied. “C'mon, girl. There's a nice Amazon.”

I eyed the distance between us and noted how Iskra's buddy started moving to my right to flank me. “You don't want to do this. Really, I'm not even an Amazon. I'm from a sheep village.”

“Ha, ha!” Nao guffawed. “Hear that, Iskra? She tells jokes. She'll be great fun at camp.”

The other woman leered gently and ran her fingers along her chain mail bikini . “I'd think she'd be fun no matter what.”

I'd heard enough. Smiling as they sidled closer, I suddenly turned to escape, thinking to use my knowledge of the woods to get away. It might have worked too, if I hadn't run into someone's fist first.

+=+=+

I drifted in the confusing memory of my mother's onion-y soup. Thick and savory, I could almost taste it on my tongue, but the coppery tang was wrong, the ache didn't belong. There should have been more seasoning. More salt, I thought. I licked my lips and twitched myself to awareness as my tongue hit a sore spot, and was startled to find myself in muffled darkness, my head and cheek pounding. Heavy cloth covered my face and when I reached up to get it off, I discovered that my hands had been tied behind my back. I was a prisoner. Again.

I'm so over this. Each mission wasn't complete unless I'd been captured, tied-up or held at knifepoint at least once. With this level of practice and experience, I'd come to the point where I could tell what was fashionable bondage material in the warlord community. Most seemed partial to a strip of leather or rope, perhaps the occasional rusty manacle and chain combination (usually for indoor use or dungeons), or maybe even someone's dirty shirt (hated that one, I couldn't get the smell off for two days). My skin's tough; I don't mind most of those, but there seemed to be a new rope on the market they like; this dry, prickly stuff that itches like a fiend and is harder to work free. Of course, it would figure that these people would pick it, right? I'd even started collecting knots, but disappointingly enough these people were only using a diagonal lashing with a couple of simple knots at the end. Just out of reach of my fingers, unfortunately.

At least they had only used woven sackcloth for the hood, thankfully letting me breathe even if it was stifling and dark. Between the heat, the discomfort and the knowledge that not only was I completely alone, but no one else knew where I was, my anxiety was increasing and I started breathing too fast. Inside my hood, a sweat broke across my upper lip and forehead and I knew that if I didn't calm down, I was going to pass right out. My eyes blindly searched the darkness as I tried to visualize calming things—me on my bedroll next to the campfire; the reassuring sounds of Xena sharpening her blade before bed; the security of her near me. I indulged in a moment's uncharacteristically vicious, yet gleeful imagining of what she'd do to these guys if she knew what they'd done to me.

There. I let out a breath and then, feeling more focused and clear-headed, I strained my ears to listen to my captors.

“—cannot ex-cape! She is trussed like a pig.”

“Are you sure we can't have her for a while first?”

“Quiet.” A woman's voice. Soft and clear. I wanted to hear it again. “Get her up, Iskra. Nao, you're going to deliver the message.”

“Me?” Nao grunted in surprise. “You will need me to carry her back. You might be an Amazon, but you're way too small. Look at that—scrawny little muscles. Leave Iskra to deliver your message.”

I didn't hear the answer, but I jumped at the familiar hum of my staff whipped quickly through the air and the very moist and unpleasant crunch as it struck its target. A second later it was followed by a woman's scream and a heavy thud. A low, agonized moan began somewhere near my feet.

“W-why did you do that?!” Iskra demanded, her voice verging on hysteria. “Get out of my way!”

“No.” That same voice again, that tickled my mind. I wracked my brain, but couldn't place it.

“He's still alive!”

“I know. I'm surprised. Thicker skull than I thought.” A rustle of sound nearby made me tense. “Now, pick her up.” I felt hands grab me and lever me to my feet. My head throbbed at the change of position and I staggered in my captor's grip.

“I thought you were going to give him a message to give them,” Iskra said, all her earlier bravado gone. Her quick breathing echoed my own.

“Slut, his corpse is the message. And so is this.” Something else hit the ground and I wasn't sure, but I thought it might be my staff.

“Get the cloth.”

There was a rustle of movement from Iskra and I felt her lean away from me. “This is the one you meant?”

“Put it there—no, there, to your left.”

I was left to stand on my own as Iskra followed her orders. Suddenly I felt someone close to me, in my personal space. Someone who felt different than Iskra did. I tried to remain calm, hoping to get a clue as to who this was.

“We're going for a walk now, your majesty,” the mysterious woman said to me. “I'd suggest cooperating; I'd hate to have you slip and injure yourself.” I felt the prick of a blade against my bare belly and didn't have to imagine what kind of accident they had planned if I tried to get away. From everything I've seen, gut wounds are the worst. Stiffly, I nodded. “Let's go. When we get back to camp, I want a word with Queen Gabrielle, here. I have some absolutely divine conversation planned for us.”

A hand in the middle of my back shoved me into motion, and I stumbled a few times until my arm was grabbed and I was able to steady myself on the path.

I wasn't sure which part scared me more: that the real thief we'd been searching for had just found me, or that I was about to be alone with her. Though blind and injured, I began surreptitiously trying to reach the knots holding me; depending on what she was after, I wasn't sure I was going to get any better chance than this.

* * *

XXVII. From Bad to Worse and Back Again (Or CSI: Mycenae)

Since I'm not easily winded, I could run and still manage to curse under my breath.

Hercules hadn't mentioned anywhere that part of the wandering hero gig involved sorting out Amazon love triangles on top of a regular day's work of fighting slavers and hunting down divine artifacts. This state of affairs was really making me think I should re-evaluate this whole reformed warlord kick I'd been on for the last couple of years. I mean, before all of this I had been “ Bad Xena ” for way longer—like, ten winters at least. What made me think I was this Xena and not that one? What was the point of all of this?

I knew what the answer was—or who it was, anyway.

When things were good, there was a lot to remind me that yes, I am a good person who likes good things, whoop-dee-doo! You don't have to be Socrates to see that it's easy to maintain positive focus when things are positive. The sound of Argo's footfalls on a dry road; the smell of really good stew boiling over a fire; fishing in a fresh stream—all of it could put a smile on your face and make you feel that no matter what could happen, the universe was a good and wondrous place.

On a bad day (and this one was currently writing the book on bad days), if I didn't have something—or someone—that stood out as a positive force in my life, well, let's just say a lot of people, in a lot of places could get hurt.

Who am I kidding? There's only one person who would be worse off and I knew it.

As I raced through the forest, I started to get that bad feeling that had been accompanying this whole mess since the beginning. It didn't go away really, it just ebbed and flowed in different stages of discomfort and worry. I increased my pace hoping that my bad feeling stayed in its current incarnation as a knot in my stomach, rather than anything more tangible.

On the edges of the village I noticed two figures racing through the woods. It was Ephiny with a rattled looking Eponin in tow. Angling towards them, I nodded as I came to a stop in front of them. The worry lines on both their foreheads didn't inspire confidence.

“Fancy running into you two out here,” I quipped.

Ephiny looked to where I had been running from with her signature blend of sarcasm and suspicion. “Where were you?”

“Finding out that everything we know is completely wrong.” I smirked.

The two Amazons exchanged a confused glance then Eponin stepped forward. “Queen Gabrielle wanted you to know that she ordered a reinforcement of the guard.”

“Good.” The weapons-master seemed sheepish about what she had said. I tilted my head. “And?”

“And…well… It was a rough night for everyone… The tribe is looking a little green under the gills.” She straightened. “But I'm doing my best to get everything in order.”

“Let's hope it works out better for you than your love life,” I said, indicating the faint shiner I assumed was a result of her encounter with Mia from the night before.

Ephiny put her hand in front of her face and coughed as the weapons-master blushed a very lovely shade of crimson. Eponin blinked. “Uhm… I'll…I… right.” And she scampered off toward the village.

I turned to the Regent. “Where's Gabrielle?”

Ephiny shrugged. “I was hoping you knew.” She half-turned toward the village. “She had intended to find Artemis earlier this morning, but I haven't seen her since then.”

I didn't wait for her to finish the thought before I started up for the goddess' hut. We raced past several zombie-like Amazons before we reached it and stormed inside.

Empty.

Ephiny shrugged. “The Queen's hut?”

We ran across the village. I sprang up the stairs into the darkness.

The place was deserted. Nonchalantly I glanced at the bed-sheets. It appeared that only one person had slept in them. I beamed to myself. Ephiny poked around as respectfully as possible.

Then I noticed it. Gabrielle's staff was gone. Good girl … I caught myself. Where was she going that she thought she would need to be armed?

“She's probably not in the village if she needed her staff,” Ephiny conjectured answering my unspoken question.

I nodded then moved outside. The ground around the front of the hut had been relatively undisturbed so far that morning. The same could be said about much of the village. With any luck, I could pick up the bard's trail and at least have a general idea where she might have gone. I knelt close to the pathway.

In the dust I managed to find Gabrielle's prints, thanks to the small imperfection on the right sole of her boots, put there by a night she had decided to stand late watch with me and managed to not only fall asleep on the job, but lean her foot into the campfire. It was a good thing I've got an extremely sensitive nose or she would have melted more than just some shoe leather.

I started to leave. Ephiny followed. Turning toward her, I raised my eyebrow. “Where do you think you're going?” I asked.

“With you, to find Gabrielle,” she said, crossing her arms with a stubborn scowl.

At that, I crossed my arms. “No you're not.” I was getting angry, which is probably why I said: “You'll just hold me back.”

The Regent's face reddened. She paused, taking a breath before answering. “You don't know the woods around here as well as I do.”

“Look, I'll be able to find my friend just fine.”

“She's your friend, but she's my Queen. So I'm coming with you.” Ephiny looked at me with a strong, piercing gaze, her body postured for anything.

We were wasting time doing this. I smiled, shaking my head. “Wow, you really take that Regent stuff seriously, don't you?” She smiled, backing off slightly and relaxing. I shrugged. “Let's go.”

=+=+=

Ephiny followed as I traced Gabrielle's route through the village and out into the eastern woods. Here, the tracking became easier. I stopped and indicated the signs. “She wasn't trying to hide or sneak around at all.”

Ephiny nodded. “These are the Goddess' favorite woods. Maybe Gabrielle came here to find Artemis?”

I walked over to a log. “Well, she stopped here.” That girl never met a place she couldn't turn into a seat. My heart jumped as I looked beyond the fallen tree into a small, enclosed clearing. “Ephiny…”

The clearing was the scene of a recent struggle. As well as Gabrielle, at least three other people had been involved. There were some broken twigs and blades of grass. I crouched, appraising as much as I could. “Gabrielle was surprised by two people.” I furrowed my brows. “Looks like slavers, judging by the footprints.”

Ephiny stepped carefully around the clearing. “She adopted a defensive stance here.” The Amazon looked curiously at the ground. “She seemed to be backing off. Trying to escape maybe?”

I nodded. Good girl…

I stood looking at the scene again. Flies buzzed angrily around my head. Damn belt … I swatted at them and moved to the other side of the clearing. “It looks like she made a break for it here and—” My heart sank. A third set of footprints appeared, and a large void in the grass indicated that a body, unconscious or otherwise, had fallen into the underbrush. There were tiny droplets of blood in the grass. I rubbed at my eyes. I had to force the visions of the three shades of death I was going to rain down on these people for hurting Gabrielle, and focus on the matter at hand.

“She was…she was knocked down here.” Ephiny stared at the ground for a moment before looking at me. Very gravely her hand lighted on my shoulder. “An Amazon Queen is worth more alive than dead.” I ignored the fact that Ephiny sounded as though she were convincing herself of that statement as much as me.

I knelt, looking at the new prints. There was something about them. Suddenly it hit me. “Gods.” I looked up at Ephiny. “These are the same footprints we found where Autolycus was attacked.”

Ephiny's face blanched. “But that means…”

I nodded. “The thief has the belt and Gabrielle.” More flies buzzed around my head, into my hair, my face. They didn't seem to be bothering Ephiny, who had followed some more of the tracks further into the woods. I growled and swatted at the stupid things. Fish. Crows. Cats. Squirrels. Flies. What next?

Ephiny had stopped up ahead, her body unnaturally still. “Xena…”

Parting the cloud of flies I hurried to the Regent's side.

At first I noticed that there were more flies here than where I had been before. This was frustrating. Then I noticed why Ephiny had called me. Based on the signs, this was where Gabrielle had been dragged by the slavers. I swallowed hard as evidence of another struggle was visible.

Most unsettling was the source of all the fly activity; the body. The slaver ‘King' lay face down in the grass, the side of his head caved in. Based on the wound, he had been hit once (there's never much blood, if any, on the first hit) with a blunt object. I had an idea what that might be.

Looking around, the events became confused. The tracks disturbed and cluttered. “Maybe she…maybe she woke up….started struggling…even escaped…” I said, unsure.

Then I saw it, Gabrielle's staff lying on the ground. I picked it up to examine it and immediately my heart sank again; there were hairs and a bit of scalp and blood from the blow—the killing blow.

Oh, Gabrielle …

“Xena,” Ephiny called.

I sighed. “What is it?”

“A piece of clothing…” She held up a piece of green leather. “Look familiar?” she asked sarcastically.

“Autolycus? But that's—”

“Impossible? What? The King of Thieves escaping from a jail he's already escaped from?” Her face darkened. “Completely impossible.”

I couldn't let this get carried away right now. “Look, we need to get after whoever has Gabrielle and we need to do it now.” I gave the Regent a stern, but even stare. “They're still under an hour away.”

Ephiny nodded. As we prepared to leave, we heard Eponin's voice calling out to us. She was racing through the underbrush like a dryad out of Hades. Ephiny stepped forward. “Eponin, what is it?”

“The village.” The weapons-master had a bleak look on her face. “It's under attack.”

* * *

Continued in Part 5