DISCLAIMER
Though the characters in this tale may physically remind you of people that you know, they are in no way affiliated with, or based upon, the characters of Xena and Gabrielle as used in Xena: Warrior Princess. It may shock you; nay, disgust you to know that I have watched barely three episodes of your favourite TV series (perhaps four years ago?) and so would not be able to draw upon those characters even if I wanted to. Not my fault, mind you, but that of the broadcasting authorities in my country. However, I am aware of certain physical similarities and therefore invite you to employ your own wild imagination to make the leap.

SEX/VIOLENCE/SARCASM/UNHEALTHY ATLETICISM/MEDIEVAL TORTURE/RUNNING SHOES WARNING
What, I�m not some kind of animal, okay? Well, technically I suppose I am, since homo sapiens qualifies, but I mean it in the strictest metaphorical sense and besides � I digress. The characters are a little rude, and a little mad, and a little mean, but that�s just like anybody else. As for the dreaded subtext warning � this time I�m leaving it out. See how ruthless I am! Haha haha ha ha.

COMMENTS
You are most welcome to share them with me, as long as you adore me madly. No, but really. Constructive criticism will be welcomed with open arms. As will a nice letter from your gran, some ripe mangoes, pecan nuts, a book on police procedure, and a nice policewoman to explain it to me. Find me at: kalexy@webmail.co.za

AND FINALLY
We�re past halfway. If you need to go to the loo, now�s the time to do it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

�Are you absolutely positive that you haven�t seen them around, Daedalus?�

�Oh, yes, positive. Definitely.�

�Eric, I�m going to slice off his ears. I�m not especially partial to them.�

�Now sheathe your sword, will you? Look how pale he�s gone. That�s because you�re frightening him.�

�Eventually it will be from loss of blood. Hehehe.�

�That blade is going to slip and then nobody will be laughing. Put it away.�

�But see how he blinks so much faster when I do this. Rather entertaining, you have to admit.�

�Ack!�

�Now look what you�ve done!�

�Well, I would apologise and say I�m sorry, except that it would be a lie and I�m a generally truthful sort of character. Anyhow, I expect that will heal in a few days. Barely a scratch.�

�Why are you doing this to me?!�

�Hey, don�t look at me! I�m not doing a thing. Direct your gaze to the mad dark knight over there, because the only thing to see in this direction is me accepting no responsibility at all.�

�Two reasons, Daedalus. Firstly, I take much offence to the fact that your name is not Aldrich. It is just against the laws of nature, you understand.�

�Aldrich was the previous owner! I would have lost clientele had I changed the name! That�s not a fair thing to hold against me!�

�He�s actually got an excellent point there, Crispin.�

�No, Eric, I�ve got an excellent point - on the end of my sword. Damn, now it has a spot of blood on it. Besides, when have I ever cared about fair?�

�Well, there is the matter of a fair-haired young woman at this moment on her way to��

�Excuse me��

�� god knows where, and I think a fair amount of ��

�Excuse me��

�� caring for is fairly evident in that specific case.�

�Eric, you�re full of ��

�Excuse me��

�� badger poop. WHAT?�

�I was just wondering about the second thing.�

�What are you talking about?�

�The second thing. You said two reasons. Maybe if you tell me we can resolve this quickly and with no � further � damage to anybody present��

�Oh, that. Please don�t whine. The second thing is that you are trying to convince me that you have never seen a certain blonde-haired princess with a male companion who is also a player. I desire that princess � shut up, Eric, I mean that I desire her presence - and if you cannot be persuaded to change your name, you must at the very least accommodate me on this, do you understand?�

�But I see a lot of people! You cannot possibly expect of me to make use of such a generalised description!�

�Oh, but I do. I�m completely, utterly, dementedly unreasonable. I thought you might have realised that after the small accident with your chin. Would you like me to draw you a map on your chest?�

Aggrieved sighs all around.

�Crispin, don�t think that I don�t recognise that glint in your eye. Don�t even consider doing that here!�

�What is she ��?

�Look, I beg you � just tell her what she wants to know. I find standing between a perfect stranger and a dreadfully messy death tedious.�

�I may recall something.�

�You may need to.�

�Ack!�

�Crispin! Gods be damned! Stop that!�

�It was an accident. And it�s just a scratch. Don�t be so pernickety.�

�Who is going to pay the doctor�s bill?�

�Not me. But I�m more than willing to pay the undertaker.�

�Look, look, step back a little. And put that down. Please. I�m not saying I know a thing, all right? But if you�re looking for real information, find Claude DeChamps. Easy to spot, has pockmarks all over his face and an eye patch. Real Helen of Troy. Now will you leave me alone?�

�It is a good thing that you never aspired to be a player.�

�Eric, jealousy is an unattractive trait. I was brilliant. Command performance.�

�Yes, indeed. I longed to command you to stop.�

Shooting an evil look in his direction Crispin stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. �You are just sour because you wanted to be the bad knight and I wouldn�t let you.�

�You always get to do it.� Very petulant. �Would once have hurt? No.�

�Oh please. You, my darling, seem about as dangerous as a dormouse. What would you have threatened him with � an infectiously sunny disposition? Dear me, I quiver in my boots.�

�Shut up.�

He stretched his neck and took a good gaze around him, blushing slightly when he noticed a group of young girls who were gathered near the door of an Inn and very obviously and appreciatively appraising him. Looking away quickly he nudged the knight in the ribs with his elbow. �Anything?�

They had been walking the small streets around the square for a few candlemarks now, asking around after Claude, but as of yet they hadn�t found a single clue. Studying the road names that were engraved on wooden pallets Crispin shook her head. �Not a thing. We�ve been here before. Let�s take Sycamore down there and double back to the square.� Turning into the small side street she abruptly halted, the prince almost stumbling into her.

�What?�

Following her eyes he noticed a man who was leaned nonchalantly against a pole, a pipe drooping over his lower lip as he playfully jousted with a sly-looking serving girl. Even at this distance his marked face and the leather thong tied around his head were obvious. With a muffled �huh� Crispin began to move, her gait somewhere between noticeably purposeful and awkwardly casual. It was when they had crossed about half of the distance that the man glanced by chance in their direction. Taking in the rapidly approaching dark woman and the tall blonde man lagging behind he seemed to make a quick decision, and then hastily spat out his pipe and turned on his heel to flee. When Crispin took off in pursuit Eric spat out a curse and dashed to catch up. The knight was fit and extremely fast, more so than her quarry, but as she was about to grasp at him he swiftly took a sharp turn to the right into a small dark alley. Foiled by her own speed she went careening into a stack of empty boxes, righting herself as Eric ran up to her side.

�Are you all right?�

Nodding briefly she sprinted into the alley, but by the time their eyes had adjusted to the gloom there was nobody to be seen. The walls seemed to be solid until they closed off abruptly in a dead end. Scowling, Crispin walked down the narrow alleyway with her arms extended, both hands running down the gray brickwork in exploration. She was about halfway when a hand landed lightly on her shoulder.

�Wha�?�

Eric was standing behind her, his finger pressed to his lips in a request for silence. Standing motionless she concentrated, and then realized what he had heard. Up on the roof there was a faint scrabbling. With a frown she glanced up, and then down the walls to the dead end. Barrels and boxes stood haphazardly piled against a wall that reached right up to the roof in a smooth unbroken surface. Taking a deep breath Crispin rolled her shoulders once.

�What are you doing, Crispin?�

Without a word she took a few steps back and then began to accelerate towards the wall. Approaching the stack of wooden objects at high speed she took a leap onto the closest barrel, hurling herself into the air. Her feet pushed off against any surface she could find, and then she launched herself against the wall, barely able to wrap her arms over the rough top surface as the pile beneath her began to collapse. The vigor of her movement forced the air from her lungs and she hung from the barrier for a moment, her chest heaving against the cold brickwork. When she had regained her breath she pulled herself up onto the wall, grateful to feel Eric�s hands wrap around her ankles and provide extra leverage. From the wall it was a simple short step onto the flat roof.

Claude had made one very good choice, and one that was not as bright. Deciding on the alley with its concealed niche that led to the roof had been a stroke of genius. As a local of dubious nature he knew all about such nifty little things. Moving onto the next roof in panic had not been such a good idea. If he had stayed still they might have gone, but now they seemed to be pausing down in the alley. Cocking his head he listened carefully, trying to ascertain what was happening. It had not been a good day for Claude, and this was going to be his next bad choice. He was trying to stay as still as possible, in the hope that they would be convinced to resign. It was, therefore, a rather nasty shock to him when a most almighty noise sounded from down below. He was still trying to ascertain what had happened when the dark woman popped over the side of the roof.

Why he had stood still when he was being tracked, she did not understand. His thin lips formed a comical �o� when her feet hit the floor, and he almost stumbled as he turned to take flight again. With a resigned sigh she pursued him, her long legs making it much easier for her to leap over the gap between the two buildings than it had been for him earlier. Though he was not as fast as the tailing woman, he was a skillful evader, using his apparent knowledge of the area to good effect. Ducking and weaving he managed to elude her, and although the space between them was shrinking it was doing so at a very small rate. They raced along the rooftops, leaping from building to building, with surprised spectators looking on from below as they suddenly found themselves swept by shadows.

�Eric!�

At an interval of ten steps Crispin bellowed out her companion�s name, knowing that he was not on the roof behind her and hoping that her strident cry would keep him informed � and close - on the ground. Her energy was diminishing but she pushed herself to maintain her pace, with the awareness that the man barely ahead of her was beginning to slow down in exhaustion. It was a complete anti-climax when Claude just came to a rapid halt and bent over gasping for breath, resting his hands on his knees. Decelerating wildly to avoid colliding with his heaving body Crispin stopped a couple of feet from him, her blue eyes at once irritable and confused as she folded her arms imperiously.

�Why in the hell did you run in the first place??�

He breathed deeply a few times before he tilted his head and looked up at her, his face hostile. �Ye was chasing me. I don�t stand still for that, �lright?�

His thick accent and gritty voice brought to mind a toad halfway sunk into a bog. With a frown Crispin crouched down next to him, the corner of her mouth twitching surreptitiously when he slid further away from her irritably. �You don�t stand still for that, but you stop?�

�I was tired.� Catching her slight smile this time he spat to one side hostilely. �And I was wearin� the wrong shoes for runnin�, okay?��

�You have special shoes for running? Did you do something wrong, that you would be running away that much?� The tone was as innocent as she could make it (which was not that much at all).

�No.� It was gruff, rude, and much too quick. �I�m not telling ye nuthin. Piss off.�

With a small smile Crispin shifted closer. �It is a rather reckless thing you did, hurling yourself onto rooftops. Don�t you realize that the loss of an eye appears to affect distance perception? You could have fallen.�

�What the hell is the matter with ye, huh? Are ye goin to be kissin my ouchies next?� He scowled at her from underneath bushy eyebrows.

�I�m not letting my lips anywhere near your person,� she informed him with congenial distaste. �And if you force me to chase you again I am simply going to throw my dagger at the back of your shirt. I do not feel like running any further. Do you understand me?�

For an answer he sat down where he stood and folded his arms sullenly. Keeping an eye on him Crispin stood and stepped closer to the edge of the roof, chancing a glance into the street below. �Eric?� There was no reply. Walking to the other side she peeked down. �Eric?�

�Here.� It was more a long drawn-out breath than a word. The handsome blonde man stood below with his hands propped on his thighs, his back heaving as he gasped for air.

�Are you all right?�

In lieu of words he waved one hand in her general direction, not moving from his position. With a last glance down Crispin turned and strolled back towards the man who was sitting in the middle of the floor with a sneer on his face.

�You were fleeing over these roofs like a joyful little gazelle in spring. It seems that you know this area quite well.�

�Might do.� He couldn�t resist a little smugness.

�Well, then, show me the way down.�

�Find it yerself.�

With a sigh Crispin stepped back to the edge of the roof. �Eric? If I shove him over will you catch him?�

�I could give it my best.� The voice that drifted up to them sounded more than a tad dubious. �I might drop him, though. He didn�t look all that light to me.�

�Oh well. Means justifying the end and all that.� Stalking back she shoved one hand under the sitting man�s arm and pulled him up, then dragged him towards the edge of the roof. Though he was attempting to struggle it was not that easy with his arm elevated so high that his feet barely touched the floor.

��ere, ye�re not just goin to toss me over. Ye wouldn�t.�

A smothered snigger drifted from below. �If you�re trying to appeal to her better nature you�re an optimist, friend. Praying for wings is more likely to get a result.�

�Right, right,� twisting his arm the shorter man attempted to catch Crispin�s eye, �stop it, will ye? Nothing I know�s worth this aggravation. What is it ye want?�

�I do adore a rational man.� Lowering her hand a little she eased his position, though his rather dubious character forced her to keep a light hold on him. �We are searching for a young woman, a princess to be exact, who may have left this town with a player at some point late last night or in the early hours of this morning.�

The ugly man tapped his chin thoughtfully. �What did yer princess look like?�

�What, you have such a torrent of princesses that you need a description?� The knight waved one hand somewhere in the vicinity of her ear. �Yea high, fair hair, green eyes, royal (pain in the) attitude. Let�s hear it.�

�Hmmm,� raising one bushy eyebrow Claude considered her shrewdly, �there anything in it for me?�

�Oh, very much so. Unbroken limbs, a healthy spine, fairly good health and a nice even smile.� Crispin presented him with one of her own.

�Now that ye mention it, I did see that gal with Philip at the square yesterday.�

�Philip?�

�Yeah, Philip.� He curled his top lip in disdain. �That no-good damned son�f mine.�

They sat around a table near the square, armed with mugs of mead supplied to them by Daedalus from the goodness of his heart. Or so Crispin told herself, ignoring the beady stare he conferred upon her from behind the plasters dotting his face. Claude, having realised that this time, at least, he was not the culprit, was only too glad to assist.

�So when did you last see your son, Claude?�

�Well, �s yesterday, the time he were chattin to yer princess. I was tryin to get him to pull a job with me,� noticing the curious expressions around the table he changed direction as gracefully as a rhinoceros wearing granite boots, �was construction, nothing ye�d be interested in, �lright? So I was askin him very nicely and he says he has his own thing goin, don�t need my scheme or me in his scheme � buildin scheme, that is. Then yer princess drops in and he drops me. Just like that.�

�What happened to a little honouring of one�s parents?� Ever the gentleman, Eric was valiantly fuelling the family feud. Claude nodded enthusiastically.

�Yeah. What did happen to that?�

Scowling at the overly empathetic prince Crispin cleared her throat. �Claude, as much as I know that you have absolutely nothing to do with the building trade, apart from scaling them once in a while, I couldn�t really care. What I do care about is finding the princess, and for that to happen I need you to divulge Philip�s plan to us.�

Claude scratched his head with a gnarly finger. �Well, I don�t know as that would be the right thing to do. He is my son, after all, you know, and if he was to get into a predicament��

�All we want is Helena, Claude,� Eric assured him hastily, �and if we were possibly to frighten him a tad that would be right justice for maltreating his father, wouldn�t it?�

��t would. That it would.� Scratching his chin Claude came to a rapid decision. �The troupe�s goin to reach Flagstaff to the southwest in a few days. Philip�ll be travelling with �em maybe two days before he takes the princess and peels off. Where, he weren�t sayin.�

Tossing her mead back quickly Crispin rose, motioning to Eric to do the same with a nod of her dark head. �Your help is appreciated, Claude. If I didn�t have such a solid policy regarding the proximity of my lips to general dirt, I would kiss you right about now.�

�Oh sod off.� It was almost paternal. �When ye find that uppity son�f mine give him a smack in the rear before ye send him back. I�m gettin too old for this shite.�

CHAPTER TWELVE...