Disclaimers & Warnings: See Part 1

In the two weeks after leaving Amazonia, Gabrielle passed through the Roman provinces of Moesia Superior and Moesia Inferior, crossing the Danube into the contested realms of Dacia. The Greeks had a long history of trade with the native Getae, and the warrior was more easily welcomed than the scattering of Romans. It would be another 50 years before the Roman Empire would conquer here, during the first half of the reign of the Emperor Trajan. To Xena's ghost, the Dacian uplands, home to hardy shepherds and miners, were reminiscent of the interior of Thrace, inland from Amphipolis, over 250 miles to the south. Gabrielle was thankful it was still high summer and the weather held kind to travelers. The mountains they had passed through were bitter in winter. Now she rode north by west, leaving the highlands for the plains, and the watershed of the river Pathissus.

In her third week of travel, she passed through the lowlands along the Pathissus River, following it north towards the Carpathian Mountains. She had left the Roman Empire behind, preferring to travel in the "barbarous" lands where she would be unquestioned. Though to travel on Roman roads would have been quicker while heading west, Gabrielle never felt comfortable around Roman legions anymore.

Ya think they still hold the death of Brutus against you? Xena jested, late one afternoon as the warrior set up her campsite. She was referring to their defeat of Brutus and Marc Antony, while fighting to save the murdered Cleopatra's Egypt. Their power play had brought Octavian to power as Rome's greatest emperor, Augustus Caesar.

"I doubt they even remember who actually killed him, Xena," Gabrielle replied with a grin, "especially compared to your score. It just seems that every time we've had anything to do with the Romans, either some of them die, or I do. I'm really trying to avoid a confrontation with them…been there, done that."

I know what ya mean. It gets kinda old after the dozenth time. Xena recalled her parts in the deaths of Crassus, Pompey, Mark Antony, Julius Caesar, and Caligula.

"Well, the last time we were in Rome, we ended up with a dead emperor, Eve was nearly killed, Aphrodite became mortal, and you lost the power to slay gods," the blonde remembered, becoming more serious. "Do you think that if you'd still had that ability, you could have killed Yodoshi without having to die to do it?"

Gabrielle, there's no way to tell. He was an evil spirit not a living god. I don't even know if that power would have worked all the way over in Japa. Anyway, wondering won't change anything. It's water under the bridge, and I still would've had to deal with those souls' need for vengeance.

"The hell with their vengeance! Vengeance is wrong, especially when it's directed at the one who freed them. I feel like reincarnating them all and then killing them again myself."

Reincarnating them all and then killing them again…Xena was chuckling at the thought.

The blonde warrior looked at her, shocked at first by her mirth. Xena couldn't suppress the smile on her face. Slowly, Gabrielle's anger cooled, until finally a slight grin captured her lips as she replayed her own words.

"Guess I was out for some vengeance myself, huh?" She finally admitted with a smile. Her eyes glowed in the last of the failing sunlight, as Xena's ghost looked down at her.

It's so easy, Gabrielle…it was the story of my life for a while. The words triggered memories that wiped the smile from the ghost's face; memories of vengeance, ambition, and bloodlust…memories of guilt and remorse.

"I know what you mean," Gabrielle answered.

She could still feel the blinding rage that had gripped her at Helicon, and for a moment her eyes looked through her campfire into the past. Japa, Gabrielle realized, had a whole culture that not only approved of vengeance, but had also formalized and institutionalized it. Vengeance wasn't a matter of heated emotions released in a moment of passion. It was an obligation, and the sanctioned behavior of every responsible person. No wonder the armies were so huge, the wars so constant, and the weapons so deadly. The physical appearance of the culture had blinded her to the more significant differences; the way the people thought, and what they expected. It was a sobering insight.

"We never should have gone…" she whispered. But she was alone in the growing dark


"You see, Xena, she's not without faith."

How can you say that, Eli? She has no conviction that we did the right thing in going to Japa. She has no interest in fighting for the Greater Good anymore. I'm even worried about whether she'd fight with conviction to save her own life if she were attacked.

"My friend, why is she following these dreams she can't remember?"

I guess because she doesn't have anything better to do? She's had it with everywhere we've been, and the dreams are leading her to new places? They're giving her a purpose she's desperate to feel?

"Of course all those reasons are correct, Xena, but they aren't important."

Ok, ya lost me there, holy man. Can ya spell it out for me?

"She's following her dreams halfway across the known world, going where she has no real business being, because she has faith that the dreams will bring her meaning. She seeks to make sense out of the events of your adventures; seeks a way to bring closure to her losses. Being without direction is different than being without faith. It's the difference between seeking and giving up."

Hmmmm…I guess you're right, as usual.

"Hahahaha…Xena, don't worry so much. She'll fight when she has to. You trained her too well for her not to survive what she'll be encountering."

You know what dangers she'll meet? Anything you can tell me?

"No, Xena, I don't know if she'll meet bandits or warlords or soldiers. I know she has a destiny though, and that's all I need to know. Have faith, Xena."

I'd have more faith if I could be wielding my sword next to her in a fight.

"She's got a sword for fighting, but the fight she needs to win most won't be won with a sword."

They're always the hard ones, aren't they?

"As you well know. How did you feel, Xena, when Marcus told you that it was your lessons that convinced him that he had to die again, instead of keeping Hades' helmet and living a new life with you? You planted the dagger in his chest to send him back to the underworld. You loved him, yet you both overcame temptation, and you went on with acceptance of your loss. So will she. Consider it a right of passage…you have come full circle in so many ways."

Beside him the ghost couldn't answer. Silent tears slowly sought trails down her cheeks. Eli had made her realize that once before she'd felt pain akin to Gabrielle's, from the other side of the coin. On Mt. Fuji she'd stood in Marcus' shoes, urging her beloved to end her life because it was the right thing to do. It was the same paradox of ethics and love, redemption and loss, separation and survival, which would test them both. Yet there were differences.

I had her and a new way of life, but she's alone….

"Yes, the final part of her training."


When she reached the foothills of the Carpathians, Gabrielle joined a trade route that led north. The road eventually climbed to what would one day be known as the Dukla Pass, where the mountains narrowed to only 20 miles. The years of adventure had conditioned her and the alpine trail was barely a test of her endurance. On the north side of the mountains, she followed the road down into the foothills, turning west through the lands bordering Sarmatia and Germania. She was pacing the mountain range that now marched to the south, on her left. Gabrielle wouldn't have to turn north again until she reached the Albi River, almost 300 miles ahead.

In the time of Augustus Caesar, the Albi had marked the frontier of the Roman Empire, the lands behind it won, in part, by Rome's Champion, Livia. That had all changed at Teutoburg forest in the years after Livia had been redeemed. Now Claudius presided over a frontier set at the Rhenus River, another 300 miles to the west.

Gabrielle was riding through the country between the Viadua and Vistula Rivers. One day these lands would be called Polska. It would be a land of contest, a battleground down through the ages. One day far ahead, more would die here in one war than all that lived there now. The land would be known by many names as the borders were redrawn time and time again. To the Romans, these lands were part of eastern Germania, inhabited by peoples they knew collectively as the Suevians. These were a group of independent states, sometimes allied, sometimes at war.

The people themselves were bonded by similar languages, customs, and heritage. They liked a good fight and had an affinity for drink. They loved gambling greatly, often to the point of wagering their personal freedom. If the popular stories were true, many a drunken Suevian awoke as a slave after losing an ill considered bet.

The Suevians tended to settle in small towns and villages. Their leaders were warrior chieftains, to whom the local men allied themselves. Their bravery in battle far overshadowed the quality of their weapons, and bravery itself was a cultural ideal to which they aspired. In this, they were much like the Norsemen that Gabrielle had met years before, though their swords were fewer and of poorer steel. As in many warrior societies, between battles the men longed for glory and bloodshed, bored with peace. Also as in many warrior societies, the Suevians had codes of honor, justice, and moral conduct, and these tended towards the conservative and traditional. Their oral history and religious beliefs were passed down by bards, whom they held in high esteem. Thus, their taverns were the informal schools of their culture, and the peoples' wisdom flowed with their ale and mead.

It was nearly three years since Gabrielle had ridden this road, desperately following her soulmate and the Norse warrior Beowulf. The villages and towns seemed unchanged, but her memories of the scenery were barely sufficient to assure her that she was on the same route. She hadn't been sightseeing on that earlier trip. Now it was her dreams that guided her, for though she knew where the road led, she had no conscious reason to go. No one had asked for her help. She sought no recognizable goal. Only the compelling sense of direction that the unremembered dreams imparted kept her to her course. At night, as she dreamed, Xena's ghost watched over her in the dark.


The morning sun was bright, but the air still held the night's chill. Not like the nurturing warmth of the sun in my homeland, she thought. She dressed in buckskins now, in the manner of the northern Amazons. The skimpy outfits of her southern sisters would offer too little protection from the elements here. How long had it been since she'd parted with them last, she wondered. Eight summers, ten? No, when she counted back, she realized it had been more. She sent a silent prayer for their safety, and for the strength of the nation, then chuckled to herself as she thought of Varia and Cyane, probably still partying in their forest homeland. If she reckoned the years right, her friends would soon turn over the nation's rule to a new generation of leaders.

Across the cleared yard that lay before her lodge, a girl and her brother approached. The girl, perhaps ten summers old, had her father's wavy brown hair and serious demeanor. She walked solemnly, with her hands held behind her back. The boy, half his sister's age, had her own pale hair and mischievous eyes. As usual, he spoke first, anxious to relate their day's adventures to their mother. He could already tell a story.

"Mother, you'll never guess what we found in the bog," he reported with shining eyes.

"You went to the bog? You know you've no business there, and it can be a dangerous place." She scolded, trying and failing to hide her love behind a maternal frown.

"But mother, father was with us, and we didn't go far." He argued his case well, as usual. Beside him, his sister nodded in agreement. She seldom wasted words if a gesture would suffice.

Finally she gave in to her curiosity. "Ok, what did you find?"

"Show her, show her!" He demanded, turning to his silent sister.

The girl favored her younger brother with a smile. She was his self-appointed protector and champion. With a dramatic gesture she revealed an object wrapped in a rag, which she had concealed behind her back. She slowly unwrapped their day's treasure as though it were a piece of the Rheingold.

Gabrielle looked at the contents. The dagger was almost two hands long. The double-edged blade gleamed in the sunlight. The cross guard was of steel, the pommel of brass. Black leather cord covered the grip. She lifted it from the rag and an ominous feeling grew as she felt its weight. Engraved on the pommel was a design of paired ravens, encircled by Norse runes. It was the emblem of those who served Odin…the emblem of the Valkyrie.


It was mid-afternoon as Gabrielle rode through lightly wooded lowlands. She'd followed the road that had left the foothills of the Carpathians two days before. Now the ground was richer; ancient trees shaded leafmould and humus that sometimes gave way to bogs where the waterlogged ground was treacherous. She'd learned to keep among the trees, wary of the brambles that grew at the margins of the swamps. Miring her horse was the last thing she wanted to struggle with.

She allowed her mount a leisurely walking pace, content to be distracted by the pleasant surroundings. The air was warm enough that she had shed her cloak in the mid-morning. Around her, the breezes that danced through the woods offered the scent of pine, the earthy aroma of the leafmould, and the smell of her horse. The rustling of the branches above tickled her ears, embellished now and then by the calls of jays, mockingbirds, and an occasional crow. The softer twittering of sparrows and finches, scolding their louder kin, rose from the ground where the smaller birds hopped, prospecting for their supper.

Nice day for a ride, huh? Xena's ghost asked conversationally.

"It's a beautiful day, Xena. I never got the chance to enjoy the scenery the last time I came through here."

Yeah, I guess you were in kind of a hurry. I'm glad you were. Once again, you showed up just in time. And I'm damned glad you didn't show up sooner, the ghost thought. Just a half-day earlier and you would have been able to join Beowulf and me in our housewarming with Grendel.

"I was just in time to clean you up and dress you for your fan club," the blonde joked, "after all, you'd already escaped when we found you."

More like your fan club, Xena remembered. Beowulf and Brunnhilda had both been mooning over her soulmate. I got lucky, Gabrielle. The second time he went to throw me against a tree, he missed the tree with me. I managed to stagger off before he could pick me up again…and I just kept going until he lost my trail. I couldn't believe I was hearing your voice in those woods, and then you were there, with Beowulf and Brunnhilda.

"I was lucky you left a trail of blood and armor across the landscape," Gabrielle reminded her, "breastplate, bracer…made you easier to find."

My plan all along, of course. Xena claimed with mock seriousness. She was lucky to have survived and they both knew it.

"Of course." Gabrielle agreed with a smile. Looking around to take in their surroundings, she observed, "you know, Xena, it's so peaceful here…Xena?"

The ghost had disappeared between one sentence and the next.

"I guess being dead hasn't changed things, huh?" The blonde muttered to herself.

"Still rushing off?" She called after Xena. "Places to go, people to see…even if they can't see you."

She had let the horse plod along another few dozen paces when Xena reappeared beside her. Gabrielle turned to regard her, trying to read her expression for any hints of danger.

How about a slight detour, Gabrielle? Maybe that way? The ghost asked, indicating a path among the trees at a right angle to the one they were following. Anyway, there's really nothing up ahead and this trail has some nice views eventually. When you come out of the trees there's an abandoned homestead for camping. I did a little scouting….

Gabrielle was about to agree, when she realized that Xena hadn't met her eyes since her return. Her own eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What's up ahead, Xena? Another village of lepers?" She asked innocently.

More woods, eventually a bog. Nothing you haven't seen. Xena appeared to be trying to reassure her, and when she looked up at her soulmate she was grinning. Trust me….

Gabrielle had stopped her horse and was sitting in the saddle examining Xena closely. The ghost shuffled a bit, still grinning, and raised an eyebrow. The blonde sighed.

"Okay. How many and how far? I don't feel a thing."

Hundreds…and they're within fifty yards.

"They're awfully quiet. Are they hostile?"

They shouldn't be happy to see you, but you can take them. I believe in you.

"Hundreds, huh? I feel much better knowing I have your confidence. They're armed?"

Oh yeah. They'll stick ya if you let them.

"So it's an army? Do we know them?"

They're not that organized, Gabrielle. And yes, we know them…you better than me.

"We know them…hundreds of armed warriors, but they're not an army. They're close but silent. We're too far south for Norsemen, too far east for Britons or Celts, too far north for the Gauls, and the Romans are organized."

They had fallen into the old guessing game and Gabrielle was actually stumped. Xena chuckled, making the blonde impatient. Gabrielle had loved this game, even if she hadn't won it very often. Eventually she'd have to break down and make an intuitive guess.

"Are they Sarmatian invaders expanding west?"

Nah, the Sarmatians have enough trouble with the Scythians and Huns to their east.

"Are they the Suevians?"

I guess you could say they're Suevian…. Here, Xena had to consciously suppress a guilty grin. That clue was pretty close to a white lie, as almost anything around here was part of Suevian Germania.

"Xeeeena, I don't know any Suevians!" Gabrielle's exasperation was starting to show. She had dismounted, gesturing with her hands as she spoke, and actually stamping her foot, her eyes pleading. It was a tactic.

What's the matter, Gabrielle? Out of guesses? Don't let her get to you, the ghost sternly told herself. Don't give away the answer just yet…that pleading look, that's just a tactic. Next she'll bat her eyes.

Gabrielle feigned a heartbroken sigh and batted her eyes. Xena vanished.

"I swear! Suevian but not Suevians! Hundreds of them, armed, they won't be happy to see me, but she thinks I can take them."

The horse was regarding the blonde with curiosity as she ranted and raved to herself. Finally, after stamping and calling didn't bring Xena's ghost back, she grabbed the reigns and started warily in the direction the Warrior Princess had indicated. After 10 yards she sensed nothing. After 20 yards the woods were still silent. After 30 yards she left the horse and advanced in a crouch, sais in her hands. After 40 yards she noticed the reappearance of brambles.

"She's sending me into a bog…I don't believe it."

Gabrielle moved the last 10 yards on high alert, picking her way around the wettest patches of ground. The brambles had surrounded her, and the trees had failed. Closing in on all sides were springy runners bearing thorns and hundreds of blackberries. Suevian blackberries. By the time she tore herself away, from picking berries, feasting, and retrieving her horse, it was late afternoon.

After filling a pouch and her stomach, Gabrielle had discovered another treasure. In the half-dozen yards of ground between the far side of the bog and the tree line, she'd come upon a patch of morels. The curious looking, peppery flavored mushrooms were a rare treat, prized by almost everyone. Now all I need is a duck, she thought.

Well, my warrior…I see you defeated the Suevians and plundered their treasure. Xena had reappeared with a broad smile and gestured towards Gabrielle's bulging food pouches. She looks so cute with those purple fingertips, the ghost observed.

The blonde gave her a berry stained smile. "Those were the sweetest berries, Xena, and I found morels, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You know how much I love them." She was actually bouncing happily on her feet. When she settled down, she added, "now, since you drove me crazy with that guessing game…do you know where I can find a duck?"

Can't help you there, hon. On the other hand, if you can stand quail, there's a brace of them about 60 yards ahead, near the abandoned homestead I mentioned.

The horse watched as her rider hugged and kissed an empty patch of air. The ghost closed her eyes, and drew from her memory the taste of sweet berries on her beloved's lips. These small intimate moments, spontaneous and more valuable to the heart than the richest treasure of diamonds or gold, were what both of them longed for and neither could truly realize ever again. When they finally parted, Xena realized that, had she still been alive, she would have also tasted the salt of bittersweet tears.

That evening, as the sun sank below the treetops, Gabrielle critically watched a spitted quail, stuffed with morels, as she rotated it over her fire. She was camped in what had been the front yard of a ramshackle home. During her investigation of the structure, the terminally rickety remains of the roof had creaked in an almost nonexistent breeze. Exploring inside had also led to the discovery of a family of skunks and a wealth of spiders. It was safer outdoors.

"I made half the berries into a sauce for the quail, and I strung the other half to dry," Gabrielle reported to her ghostly beloved as she looked over in Xena's direction. The apparition of the Warrior Princess was seated next to her, on a log by the fire. "I'm drying a lot of the mushrooms, too."

It looks delicious. Xena agreed, unconsciously licking her lips. She could remember the taste of this meal…it had been one of their favorites. Of course, one quail wouldn't have been nearly enough for the two of them, not with Gabrielle's appetite.

It was as if the blonde was thinking the same thing.

"That bird looks kind of lonely, roasting by itself," Gabrielle told Xena's ghost as she softly shook her head. "I'll never get used to cooking for one." Unbidden came the memory of Xena, standing beside her earlier in the afternoon and staying her hand from a second toss of the chakram to bring down the second quail. We don't need two ya know, the ghost had reminded her. She turned away to check the bird again.

"If it tastes as good as it smells…"

I'll be wishing I could argue with you over dividing this dinner. Xena jested as she vanished with the last of the sunlight.

"I wish we could share a meal again…it doesn't taste as good without your company." Gabrielle looked back to her companion with a sad smile, but the ghost was gone.

When Gabrielle deemed the quail ready, she lifted the spit from its stands. She set the bird in her frying pan, since the sauce was occupying her bowl. After waiting for the bird to cool, she started picking off choice morsels, dipping them in the blackberry mash before popping them into her mouth. Chatty as she had once been, she ate in silence now, trying to savor her food.

Full dark had fallen while she satisfied her hunger, eventually eating most of the bird. When she was done, she washed the grease from her hands, and set some water near the fire to make tea. She built up the small blaze with more of the plentiful deadfall she'd carried from the edge of the woods. Above her, Xena's ghost watched unseen, noting that her soulmate was about to have her wish for company granted.

The firelight was flickering hypnotically, and Gabrielle settled to wait for the water to heat. The warmth of the fire compensated for the chill she felt as the blood moved, from her skin to her stomach, to digest her supper. After a few moments she became aware of a soft rustling behind her, near the tumbled down homestead. Turning, she noticed the fire's reflection dancing in four sets of beady eyes, set close to the ground, and watching her with unabashed curiosity. They moved slowly but steadily closer, until at a dozen paces, they resolved into a mother skunk and three kits.

They were shuffling and sniffing, drawn by the spell of the firelight and the aroma of Gabrielle's leftovers. The warrior held herself stock still, knowing the animals' reputation, but realizing how cute they were. She moved slowly, keeping her eyes on them as they invaded her campsite, crawled over her bags, and laid siege to her frying pan. The critters were endearing, despite their chemical weaponry. At one point, one of the kits had gone headfirst into the bowl of blackberry sauce and then emerged dripping wet. The small creature eyed her, blinking and appearing embarrassed, before occupying itself in a tongue bath like a cat. One sibling came over to "help", its tiny darting tongue licking off the sweet berry sauce. Soon the two kits were wrestling in the leafmould, upsetting the bowl. The first emerged with its face covered in a mask of leaf bits and dirt from which its bright eyes stared in chagrin. The second had rolled through the spillage and was wholly covered with sauce, looking like a wet rat with a luxuriant striped tail. From the pan of quail bones, the mother skunk scolded them with a disparaging squeak. The third kit seemed to be chuckling at them. The blonde warrior fought hard to suppress her laughter.

In recent years she'd had little time to just sit and watch animals, but it was an activity that Gabrielle had always loved. As a little girl she'd observed the denizens of the natural world near her home. The antics of wild things brought her joy and infused her soul with the wonder of creation in all its forms. Soon she was creating stories about the creatures around her. Their adventures, parables, and comedies were set in a world that was parallel but separate from her own. They were stories that she soon learned to keep to herself, having been treated to the scorn and chastisement of her more practical family and friends. Sometime during those years she had realized that she was different from them and soon she'd longed to escape their narrow world. It was her destiny to roam, just as it was her fate to dream.

Gabrielle had never lost her appreciation of nature, and she had never given up her love of stories even though she no longer aspired to be a bard. For a long time she had lived stories greater than any bard could have dreamed up. Now the little family of skunks charmed her, long after they had trundled away into the dark, leaving a pan of bones and an empty bowl.

Later, in the flickering light of her campfire, Gabrielle reclined against her saddle, sipping her tea. She let her eyes go out of focus, staring unblinking into the flames. As the warmth of the fire and the herbs in the tea created a drowsy floating feeling, memories of other fires, in other places, appeared in her mind's eye. Somewhere, as the cup slipped unnoticed from her hand, the memories became dreams.


She stood apart, and the wind that stroked her shawl had moaned across the dry wasteland. It had been a fitting voice for the hurting in her soul. Before her, Xena had just finished her funeral song. Now the hungry flames licked the wood of Eli's funeral pyre, and encouraged by the wind, quickly rose to consume his shrouded corpse. She had turned away and walked off, leaving a scene she could only blame herself for.

Xena had entrusted her to defend the teacher of the Way of Love against the wrath of a god. Had she ever had a chance of protecting him from Ares? Almost certainly not. That knowledge didn't help. Twice she had deflected the God of War's sword, ignoring Eli's protests. But in the end he had convinced her not to stand in the way of his destiny. He had convinced her to go against her heart and allow Ares to martyr him. He had said it was for the Greater Good and only thus could he embrace his way. And she had finally acquiesced. She had stood behind him as Ares' drove the point of his sword through Eli's body. She had held him as his life flowed out with his blood, instantly regretting her choice. Bad as it had been, it was just a foreshadowing of worse things yet to come. Two years later, it would be her soulmate who would convince her to stand aside, deny her heart, and allow her beloved to die…for the Greater Good.

Afterwards, her feelings of powerlessness and sorrow had been overwhelming. Xena and Eli's followers had both blamed her for his death. She blamed herself. In confusion she had almost accepted Ares' offer to empower her. She would have become a force of righteousness unto herself, acting with a god's favor. In her anguish and guilt, she had been close to accepting. Would she have supplanted Xena as Ares' Chosen? The point was moot. Acting with a god's favor was unacceptable when the aim was free will for mankind. Acting with the God of War's favor was unacceptable when her aim was peace.

She had ended up fighting him, and so had Xena. And as Eli had reminded them, sometimes you have to lose a few battles to win a war. They had both been at his mercy when the contest was decided by arms, and yet both had lived to fight another day. Eli's cause had lived, Xena's child had lived, and the Twilight had come.

Their lives had been bound by fate, Eli's God, and the Greater Good…and they had been thoroughly used. The toppling of the Olympian order had been the goal. If, as the Angel Callisto had said, Eli had been the hammer, then they had been the arm, and the One God had been the guiding will. Xena's daughter had heralded the Twilight. Eve had been the catalyst and the prize, and by her mother's sword the Twilight of the Gods had proceeded. Gabrielle had completed it by destroying the Loom of the Fates. Even the destruction of the god-emperor, Caligula, had been at the behest of the One God's archangel, Michael. Again, they had been the fist that had struck his blow. Mankind would have free will, at least in a greater degree than ever before. Now Claudius Caesar had accepted Eve's influences on Roman policy, and his legions had abated their conquests of expansion. The Greater Good had been served time and time again, but where did that leave her heart? Adrift.


Gabrielle awoke in the darkness, as if she had been shaken. The moon had already set, and the night sky had brightened just enough to dim the stars. It was the peaceful moment before the dawn. At the edge of the woods a twig snapped. She sensed them; four approaching with stealth from the back of the abandoned homestead, and one circling the front yard, moving in to take her horse. She slipped on her boots and rolled away from the dimly glowing embers of the fire, arming herself with sais, chakram, and sword.

Good morning, Sweetheart. I'd take out the one going after your horse first, then ambush the others from behind. Xena advised from somewhere nearby.

"My thoughts exactly," Gabrielle whispered, as she worked her way towards the shadow that was her mount.

She saw the movement of a man leaving the tree line, twenty yards away. He was crouching, moving in a direct path towards the animal. By the sky's dim glow, Gabrielle could see that he held a battleaxe in one hand and a length of rope in the other. The horse sensed her and walked in her direction, nervously closing the distance. Good girl, she thought, lead him to me.

What a loser…not worth wasting the chakram on him. There's a nice round rock next to your right foot.

The man stopped five yards away, set down his axe, and prepared to throw the rope over the horse's head. To Gabrielle, he appeared to be a hulking apparition of animated bearskins, reeking of wood smoke, rancid grease, and sweat. He flung the rope at the same time she flung the good-sized field stone. The rope landed neatly around her horse's neck and the stone impacted neatly against his temple, sending him to the ground with a muffled groan. She lifted the rope off her horse, patting her and whispering comfort to the spooked animal. Then giving her a shove to move her away from the coming fight. When she reached the fallen man, she took his axe and slung it into the grass a few yards away. She bent over the slowly reviving figure and knocked him out cold with the butt of a sai. Before leaving to deal with his comrades, she quickly bound his feet and hands together behind his back.

"At least he brought his own rope," the warrior whispered, "I'd have had to bind him with his own bearskins if he hadn't, and those pelts are just….pestilential." In her mind's eye she could see the lice.

Sometimes it's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it. Xena declared with a chuckle, wondering, 'pestilential'? Is that actually a word?

Gabrielle silently moved to work her way back around the homestead. In the meantime, the other four had reached her campsite. They were preoccupied with checking her bags, pans, and drying food. She slipped along the side of the tumbled-down building, and began her stealthy approach, intending to appear behind them and attack with the element of surprise.

Hold up a moment, Gabrielle, your friends are coming to the rescue.

"What friends? I don't know anyone around here."

Suddenly there was a shout from one of the men, and the overpowering stench of rancid musk filled the air. Gabrielle almost gagged. Now the four attackers were fleeing straight towards her, one of them staggering and rubbing furiously at his face. The first two almost ran her down before she could knock them out with blows from her sais. The third registered only surprise as his friends dropped in front of him. He skidded to a halt, staring in amazement at the woman, half his size, who was swinging the butt end of a weapon at his belly. He tried to back up by reflex, but he couldn't move fast enough. Gabrielle caught him in the ribs with the first blow, and as he jerked away from the pain, she spun and kicked him in the head. The fourth man was staggering blindly and she managed to trip him. He hit the ground hard with his head and stayed down. She couldn't get away from him fast enough.

"Gods he reeks," she muttered, stalking off angrily towards her campsite.

Gabrielle, wait a moment. You don't want to be next.

Dawn had come, and in the growing light she could make out what had happened. Near the embers of her fire she could see three small creatures moving, the largest sniffing and pawing a smaller one that lay still. One of the men had stepped on the baby skunk in the dark, probably too focused on looking for her to notice anything smaller. Eventually, failing to rouse the little one, the momma skunk herded her remaining two kits back towards their den in the homestead. They paraded past Gabrielle, sniffing at her a couple of times, before moving on. They gave the fallen men a wider berth.

When they were gone, Gabrielle quickly returned to her camp. Sure enough, the smell of skunk spray was overpowering. It was strong enough to make her breath through her mouth, and then she could taste it. She hurriedly gathered her saddle and bags, and dragged them into the field where her horse was now standing. She almost tripped over the first man's axe, hidden in the grass where she'd tossed it.

May as well bring it along, Gabrielle. Could be handy; it'll spare your blade on chores.

She had to return once more for her pan, bowl, and drying food. She'd been lucky. The skunk spray hadn't struck her belongings, being directed accurately at the man on the far side of the fire. For a moment she regarded the sad little body of the baby skunk, obviously crushed, before she fled the stench. Maybe it had been the adventurous one that had climbed into her bowl of berry sauce, she thought. As she hurriedly packed and mounted her horse, she reflected on the suffering and violence, unnecessary and unlooked for, that had invaded her peaceful moments of wonder before the dawn. It made her feel a profound sadness, veneered over a growing rage. Somehow the event seemed symbolic, even if it was only a skunk.

Gabrielle had ridden for a quarter candlemark in the growing light, Xena's ghost striding alongside her horse. Suddenly the ghost turned to look behind them, though she remained alongside the riding warrior. Gabrielle reined to a halt, following the ghost's gaze. A thickening column of smoke was rising across the fields she had just crossed.

They're burning the homestead, the bastards. It's the only way they can strike back at you and the skunks.

Gabrielle had turned her mount, and was reaching for her sword. Her first impulse was to ride back and inflict as much damage as she could on behalf of a family of suffering innocents.

What are you going to do? Ride into battle and slaughter five men for killing a skunk?

The warrior glared sharply at her soulmate, but she stopped mentally preparing herself to fight. She turned back to watch the rising smoke. By the time she arrived, the hovel and the yard would be ablaze, the men slinking back through the woods. She sighed, feeling helpless again.

"You know, Xena, I've found that more often than not, I can't do what I want to do, what I need to do breaks my heart, and what happens around me seems like a repetitiously scripted tragedy. I had just been dreaming about how standing aside at Eli's death was a rehearsal for having to let you stay dead. Xena, you're right…there's nothing I could have done."

Gabrielle…that's wonderful.

"Xena! I won't pretend to understand how the dead think, but what I'm feeling right now is hardly wonderful."

No, no…it's not that. You remembered a dream! You haven't remembered a dream since we left Japa. The only time that's happened before was right after Callisto killed Perdicus, remember? You always dream. And sometimes you'd practically act them out under the covers too, Xena remembered with a smile. Some of her soulmate's dreams had been kind of…exciting.

"By the gods…you're right! I hadn't even realized it with all the excitement." As the knowledge sank in, Gabrielle sat in silence, drawing back her memories of the dream. It wasn't a happy set of images. "You know, we were used. Eli's One God used us more thoroughly than Ares or any of the Olympians ever did. I think he even overwhelmed the Fates. Eli was the honey, and we were the vinegar, sort of."

So what does that tell you?

"That the world is sweet with a bitter core? That you were right in restoring love and war? That the reward for serving the Greater Good is death and heartbreak? You know, Xena, I think I just want to get as far away as I can for a while. I'm going to the Norselands, far away from the Olympians and the One God of Eli."

She didn't wait for an answer, but scanned the sky to place the sun and get her bearings. Then she turned her horse north and kicked her into a canter.

You can run, Xena said softly to the riding figure as it moved away from her across the field, but you can't hide from your destiny, beloved.


Well, you heard her, Eli. She's going in the right direction, but for all the wrong reasons!

"Xena, one thing we both know is that reasons change. Especially for a complex person who is searching. She feels things strongly and I would only be truly worried if she stopped feeling."

At least she's started remembering her dreams again. That worried me.

"Ahhhh yes, the dreams. She will need the inspiration from them, but it will be a long time before she fully understands the destiny they imply."

She said the One God used us, and she seems to resent it.

"He uses us all, Xena. I'm dead, you're dead. One day she'll be dead too. None of us can help that. It's a part of being mortal. She resents God using you because she feels that it separated you from her prematurely."

So I assume He's got something up his sleeve for Gabrielle now too, right? I mean you've mentioned her destiny, Eli. She's already given so much….

"Yes, Xena, and it will appear to get worse before it gets better. There is no blissful state of stagnation on earth. Things have to move forward. You two have been chosen to give them a push. Like you used to say, you have many skills…each of you do."

And I always said I made my own fate. What a joke! I never really had free will, did I?

"If it was a joke, then I'm sure no one was laughing, Xena. Let's just say that your own ideals overlapped very nicely with what needed to be done. Between that and your skills, you were the right person for the job on many occasions. Just as many things are going on in Indus, in Chin, and even in places you've never heard of. There's a whole world that will be affected one day by what you and she have done. If you could only see it."

I wish I could. Why don't you give me a peek?

Just keep asking her about her dreams, Xena. The world to come will terrify you. Believe me, you ain't seen nothing yet."

Hey, I can take it.

"Ok, how about this. You remember the black powder of Chin? Imagine something 100,000 times more powerful. The people who use it are more organized than the Romans, more ambitious than Caesar, and they can drop it at will from the sky. Think of the population of Athens wiped out by a single blast. Then think of a million killed in a single attack."

At first, Xena could only stare at him. A million dead in one attack? It wasn't possible. Alexander had conquered Asia Minor with an army of 50,000. The slaughter of 20,000 Roman legionaries at Teutoburg Forest had decided the empire's boundaries. You're not kidding about this, are you?

"No, Xena, and unless Gabrielle achieves her destiny, there will come an attack a decade later, in which over 6 million will die in the blast of a single bomb. It will happen in a country that doesn't yet exist, at the hands of descendants of the barbarians she met last night, and most of the dead will be civilians."

And she's gonna stop this? The ghost was getting a very bad feeling.

"It is her destiny to put it back in the bottle."