Disclaimers & Warnings: See Part 1

On morning of their second day in Macedonia, they crossed a small stream, and Gabrielle dismounted, motioning Tillit to follow her lead. The call of a bird broke the stillness. After a few moments of carefully sensing her surroundings, Gabrielle clasped her hands above her head, and Tillit mimicked her example. The young warrior could barely suppress her shock when six masked warriors dropped lightly from the trees and surrounded them. Even Gabrielle was impressed. They had been silent, and without being able to hear behind sounds, she would have missed them like any other intruder.

"You know our border, and you know our greeting of peace," the apparent leader stated, before asking, "who are you? What is your business on Amazon land?"

"I am Queen Gabrielle, and this is my daughter, Tillit, who holds my Right of Caste. We come in friendship. I hope to meet with your Queens Varia and Cyane, if they still rule here. They are friends of mine from many years ago."

After staring at them for some time, the leader removed her mask. Her action was followed by the rest of the border guards. They were all young, probably only toddlers the last time Gabrielle had been here. None of them recognized her or her daughter, but from stories they had recognized her name, and they had recognized the chakram that Gabrielle wore. Here stood a figure from the tales and lessons of their history.

"Queen Gabrielle," the leader said, bowing her head in respect, "we would be honored if you would allow us to escort you to the village. Queens Varia and Cyane will greet you there."

"Thank you," Gabrielle answered with a smile, hoping to set the slightly nervous border guard at ease.

She was happy to see that the traditions of courtesy were still strong in the nation. Her daughter's slightly awed expression, as she examined the Amazons, didn't escape her eye either. Varia and Cyane's warriors are making a good impression on her, she happily noted. One guard had been sent ahead, as a messenger to the village, while the others accompanied them. The birdcalls prior to their first appearance would bring reinforcements to take their post. As Gabrielle often did when trying to make others feel comfortable, she chatted, telling a few anecdotes about past battles and asking a few questions. Behind her, Tillit had worked up the nerve to start questioning two of the guards, and their whispers and occasional laughter testified to friendships in the making.

The walk passed quickly and soon they approached what was obviously a much-enlarged village. Whereas before, the valley had comfortably held the entire settlement, now huts had crept halfway up the slopes. Many trails of smoke drifted upwards into the afternoon sky, bearing with it the scent of cooking food. Strings of banners hung from tree to tree. They could hear the voices of many people up ahead, and from somewhere more distant, swords rang from the practice field. To Gabrielle's eye, it seemed as though the population had more than tripled, and all the growth had remained orderly. To Tillit, it was astonishing, inspiring, and beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

When Gabrielle and Tillit finally entered the village, their escorts reported to a captain, and then set out to return to their post. The captain was another Amazon that Gabrielle didn't recognize, but she had gotten word from the messenger guard and was expecting them. She asked if they needed anything, or if they wanted refreshments. Gabrielle and Tillit both accepted water. When Gabrielle asked after the wellbeing of her friends, the captain smiled and told her that they were just trying to find the council members as well, for a proper royal greeting.

Gabrielle remembered her last arrival, when the two queens had met her, with their warriors, at the entrance to the village, and proclaimed a night and day of celebration. It appeared that, with the nation's growth, protocol had become more formal. Now she and her daughter would be received, not only by the queens, but by the entire Council of the Amazon Nation. Gabrielle had to wonder if it wasn't just a more extravagant means of announcing a party.

"So are the celebrations here still as, uhhh…rousing as I remember?" Gabrielle asked the captain, remembering her smile when she'd inquired about friends' health.

"Queen Gabrielle, I suspect you will be able to judge that for yourself," the captain replied, winking and adding, "after a couple days' recuperation."

Gabrielle chuckled. In spite of the increased formality, it seemed that her sisters still enjoyed a good party. She wondered if her friends were still as raucous as they had been.

"Just one piece of advice," the captain offered, "if Queen Cyane makes her herbal hangover remedy, you might want to pass it up and suffer. In all my life I have never tasted anything so wretched."

Gabrielle suspected that the recipe, if examined, would bear startling similarities to Xena's old formula. She remembered that the healer, Espurgia, had watched her mixing the herbs, and had walked out laughing. She probably added it to her pharmacopoeia as a deterrent to getting drunk. Healers, she thought, always seemed to find amusement in torturing their patients' taste buds. Xena certainly had.

She was still thinking about her last visit, when a warrior arrived to summon them to the council chamber. With a smile for the captain of the guards, Gabrielle shepherded Tillit as they followed the warrior through the village. The central parts, which were more for communal functions, had remained pretty much unchanged since her last visit. The healer's hut, library, and the reliquary were the same, but the dining hall and kitchen had been enlarged. The cleared central meeting space was larger too, but Gabrielle couldn't remember anything that had been knocked down to make the room available.

After crossing the meeting space, they were ushered to an opening in the rock face of a grotto. The guards at the entrance stood aside and saluted. Gabrielle and Tillit returned the salute and entered, walking down several stone steps and into a large, high ceilinged chamber. This was the same place where Eve had received her pardon from Varia and the other queens, shortly before the bloody battle at Helicon. It seemed like an age ago to Gabrielle. The space resounded in her memory with the words of her challenge to Varia. Tillit was staring around, wide-eyed. From her mother's scrolls, she knew this room was the seat of power of the Amazon Nation.

An aisle led into the center of the chamber where seven high-backed chairs sat in an arc. Completing a larger circle outside them were another dozen chairs. Before the chairs lay an open space of ten feet, within which stood a small table. Around the room, masks and banners hung from the walls. Behind the chairs, a natural chimney in the rock provided an updraft to vent the smoke from a raised hearth. Guards stood along the walls and at the two doors leading from the room.

The inner arc of chairs held six women who varied in age from mid-twenties to late-forties, and Gabrielle happily saw that Varia and Cyane occupied a pair of seats flanking the empty central chair. In the outer circle sat a dozen women of even wider age. The youngest probably no more than twenty-two, the oldest perhaps sixty-five. Gabrielle recognized only one face, that of the healer, Espurgia, now slightly stooped and gray-haired, but clear-eyed and attentive. She seemed amused to see Gabrielle, probably remembering a younger and less sober queen. That was not one of my best days, the blonde thought, but returned the healer's smile.

Gabrielle and Tillit made their way to the cleared area within the circle of chairs and saluted the Amazon leaders with both arms crossed over their chests. To Gabrielle's surprise, the entire assemblage rose to their feet and returned the salute.

"Welcome, Queen Gabrielle," Varia said. She remained standing, speaking for the leaders. "The Amazon Nation is honored by your return after so long, my friend. I hope the years have treated you well. You have often been in our thoughts."

"Thank you all," Gabrielle responded, "the years have been long, but they have fled fast. Much has happened since I saw you last. Often, the welfare of my sisters here has been in my mind. I hope all stands well with the nation."

"The nation is strong," Cyane told her, "we have grown, known peace, and triumphed in war. Many sisters have joined us as you probably saw. Almost twenty winters have passed since your last visit. Then you came alone. Today, I see you have brought a warrior with you."

Gabrielle smiled, knowing the Amazon's curiosity about strangers who might be recruited. She turned to her daughter with pride, and introduced her to the Queens and the rest of the Council.

"This is my daughter, Tillit. Her father was the warrior, Beowulf, a hero of the Norselands. She has been trained as a warrior and knows the Amazon ways. She holds my Right of Caste."

There was a happy murmur of surprise and many smiles lit the faces of the Amazons. Tillit was surprised when the eighteen leaders of the Amazon Nation rose to salute her as they had her mother. Again, Varia spoke for them.

"Princess Tillit, welcome to the Amazon Nation. We hope you will find us a source of inspiration. Your presence gives us faith in the continuity of the Amazon ways for another generation to come. Consider us your sisters, and this village a home."

The reception stood in stark contrast to the chilly greeting they had received from the northern tribe. Though Tillit was a bit overwhelmed, she managed to speak words she knew her mother would find appropriate when formally greeting the Council.

"Thank you for your hospitality and your welcome. I am honored to count you as my sisters, and I am proud to call this village a home. My mother has taught me the Amazon ways. I will do my best to uphold Amazon customs and conduct myself as a warrior of the nation." She finished by saluting the leaders with both arms.

After the rest of the introductions were made, Cyane gestured Gabrielle to the vacant seventh chair, while a chair was provided for Tillit in the outer circle. Gabrielle was a bit surprised that the central seat had been offered to her, but Cyane explained to her in a softly spoken aside.

"Gabrielle, we recognize the seniority of your Right of Caste. None of us here stand within three generations of your position of leadership. Consider it a traditional formality if you will, but you are due the seat of the High Queen of the Amazon Nation."

For another two candlemarks, news was traded, and the visitors learned what had transpired in the nation since Gabrielle's last visit. In turn, she filled them in on her life.

The Amazon ranks had swelled when several far-flung tribes had joined the nation in the years after Helicon. Other women had joined, rather than continuing to live in the Roman Empire outside. It was known that the current emperor, Nero, still maintained the peace that Claudius Caesar had agreed to with Eve. At least so far, though several women who had lived in Rome spoke about the rumors of his quirks. Nero fancied himself an artist of many skills, an opinion not borne out by his performances. At least he had good advisors.

The nation had weathered two wars and claimed victory in both. The first had actually been an intense series of running skirmishes with slavers, fought in the areas around their borders. The Amazons had been sought as allies by the local militias, and they had gladly helped rid their neighbors of the roving bands of opportunists who sold humans.

The second war had been fought against the army of an outlaw, a warlord sought by Roman legions as well. She had attempted to hide her troops from those legions on Amazon lands, and the Amazons had exterminated them and handed over the dead to a Roman legatus. For this, they had earned good will from the Romans. The whole affair would have been unthinkable just twenty-five years before. Gabrielle realized that the peace with Rome was Eve's legacy to the Amazons; part of her atonement for her crimes as Livia. It was much like the peace that her mother, Xena, had achieved between the Amazons and the Centaurs, as atonement for her crimes against both.

After this, the Council listened in silence as Gabrielle told of her life in the Norselands. She could still tell a story and she held her audience spellbound. Twenty years were compressed into the candlemark of telling. They barely breathed when she related the battle with Odin, her vision of Beowulf's battle with the dragon, the impending arrival of the remnant of the northern tribe, and the thefts by Ares. At the end of her tale, she rummaged in her saddlebag and brought out an object wrapped in a skin. She presented it to the Council, unwrapping it, and laying it on the central table.

"Here is the Dagger of the Utma, the first Cyane," she proclaimed to the silent women. "I entrust it to the safekeeping of the Amazon Nation. It is a powerful heirloom of my family, and you are my family."

It was a dramatic end to her revelations. In the coming days there would be many council discussions, to question and digest the news of both sides, but at that moment, the long awaited announcement was made by Varia.

"Members of the Amazon Council, shall we vote on the proclamation of a day and night of celebration in honor of Queen Gabrielle and Princess Tillit?"

There was a unanimously affirmative chorus of voices.

"The proclamation is passed without dissent." She happily announced, gesturing to several attendants to go and spread the news. It was already late in the afternoon, but she had faith that her people's preparedness would let them meet the challenge of arranging a party the next day.

The council had already begun to break up. Some members came to speak with Gabrielle and Tillit, while others went out to attend to their duties. Among those who stayed was a woman Gabrielle had never met. She was tall, wiry, and her skin was as dark as ebony. She wore bright gold rings, bracelets, and a necklace that practically blazed against her skin. Her tightly curled hair was neatly divided and braided with shells and small carvings. She introduced herself as La'shaunti, the Seer and Shamaness of the Amazon Nation. For someone who could summon visions and worked with the disturbing spirit world, she was the most mirthful Amazon that Gabrielle had ever met. If she, ex-bard that she was, had thought she had a way with words, she was humbled by the effortless puns, double-entendres, and insinuations La'shaunti produced in her common speech. She didn't actually tell jokes, but her expressions, malapropisms, and veiled references gave testimony to her deep insight and agile intelligence. La'shaunti was everything that Alti could never have been. Gabrielle could only assume her spiritual abilities matched her verbal abilities and position. As shamaness, she would have custody of the Utma Dagger. Gabrielle was eventually rescued by Cyane.

"Gabrielle, we have prepared the hut that you and Xena occupied many times." At Gabrielle's look of surprise, Cyane explained. "Actually, La'shaunti told us to, 'prepare the den of the Eastern Dragon', several days ago. Of course we just stared at her until she came out and said to get your hut ready," here, Cyane rolled her eyes. "I'll show you to it, since we had to move it to expand the meeting ground. Why don't you and Tillit follow me." She said as she led them towards the entrance.

"You moved the hut?" Gabrielle asked, somewhat astonished that they would bother.

"Of course," Cyane told her, smiling, "everyone always pointed it out, saying, 'Queen Gabrielle and the Warrior Princess slept there', so we couldn't demolish it. It had become a landmark. It's one of several we've preserved or rebuilt for the sake of history."

Gabrielle could only shake her head as they came back out into the daylight. Now she took a moment to study her old friend. Cyane was still slender and graceful. Her hair was still long, still shiny pale blonde, but there were laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and a more serious depth within them. She was still quick to smile, but the years of responsibility had tempered her more carefree and youthful expressions with maturity. She had always been a good person and an ethical leader, a dependable friend and a courageous warrior. Now, Gabrielle could perceive the added wisdom of experience within her.

"Cyane, in the council I heard of the nation's progress, but how have the years treated you, my friend?" Gabrielle asked.

"In truth, Gabrielle, I have few regrets," Cyane told her seriously, "I found a home here and my life has been here ever since. I feel great satisfaction in the growth and strength of the nation," she said, glancing at the bustling village around them. Finally she turned back to them, smiling, and cast her gaze on Tillit. "If there is anything I have missed, it is motherhood." For a moment a look of sadness and regret crossed her face before she banished it with a smile.

"I know it's not the same, Cyane," Gabrielle told her softly, seeking to comfort her friend, "but you have been a mother to your people."

"You're right," Cyane said, "and I love them all."

They continued walking towards the center of the village, and Cyane pointed out the various communal huts to Tillit, while Gabrielle followed, listening. Tillit seemed a bit overwhelmed. This was nothing like the northern village they had seen before. Along the way, many women greeted them, and their friendliness impressed her as well.

Finally they came to a cul de sac of five huts just off the central meeting ground. Because of the sheltering foliage and encircling outcroppings of granite, it was quieter here, with little foot traffic. It was as though it existed separate from the living village; a mirage from the past, that for Gabrielle, was populated by ghosts. The structures showed their age, mostly in their silvery weathered timbers, and the weavings and leather that were decorated with older style designs. Gabrielle remembered the first hut they came to. She had entered it often enough long ago. It had been the home of her regent, Ephiny, and it looked unchanged after forty-five years. The next hut brought tears to her eyes.

It had once been the hut of Terries, the murdered sister of Queen Melosa. Gabrielle had acquired it through the Right of Caste when she had officially become an Amazon princess. In the early years, she had lived here with Xena during their visits. They had continued to occupy it sporadically during the time that Ephiny had ruled in her stead, refusing larger quarters because they didn't want to trouble their hosts. When they returned after a twenty-five year absence, they had been surprised to find it still standing, being used as a guest hut. Gabrielle had requested it while Xena stood by smiling. During the battles with Ares' army, Prince Morloch, and Bellerophon, it had been their home base. Gabrielle hadn't been able to bear the thought of staying in it again after returning from Japa, before her journey north.

"We moved it intact," Cyane was telling her, "and we didn't change a thing inside or out. Just about the only thing that isn't original is the thatch on the roof."

Gabrielle barely heard her. She knew what she would find inside. It was difficult, but she controlled the trembling of her hands and pushed aside the leather door hanging. Inside, light gently filtered through the louvered shutters, propped half-open in the windows on either side. The timeless scents of the roofing straw, mingling with wood and leather, colored the air. The smells and the quality of lighting drew her back through years of memories.

Near the front, three chairs surrounded a small table with maps of Helicon still laid out on it. No fourth chair graced the side nearest the entrance, for no warrior would sit with their back to a door. Beside the maps sat an ink well, several quills, and two flattened clay weights. The wide sleeping pallet dominated the space towards the back, and even the furs and blankets on it looked the same as in her memory. On the wall behind the pallet hung a queen's mask, carved in an antique style, a practice staff, and a short sword with a yellowish grip in a leather scabbard. Beside it sat a small chest of three drawers with a round bronze mirror above it. On the other side of the pallet stood a wash stand with a basin and pitcher, while underneath it sat a chamber pot. Along the walls, baskets and crockery held collections of personal goods.

She walked into the hut almost reverently. Tillit quietly followed her in, staring at everything, but Cyane remained in the doorway. Gabrielle went to the chest and opened the bottom drawer. She hadn't meant for her tears to start again, and didn't really notice them until her vision blurred. Cyane had been right. Everything was as it had been. Neatly folded in the drawer lay a set of Amazon leathers; two piece, tanned deep brown, and heavily embroidered with war beads, talismans and symbols. They signified a shamaness of the north, a master warrior of the south, the champion, and hopefully, life partner of an Amazon Queen. They would have fit a woman nearly a head taller than Gabrielle. She remembered how she'd quietly had them made twenty years before, but Xena had never had the chance to wear them. Shortly after Helicon, they had gone to Japa.

Cyane had turned away to give her privacy, knowing what she sought as soon as she went to the chest. Tillit saw the sad and distant look in her mother's eyes, and after a moment looked away. She didn't understand the significance of the clothing, but she knew a memory had taken her mother back to some deep source of pain. Instead, she examined the baskets along the walls. She noticed that a couple held rolled parchments, and she moved toward them for a closer look.

The carefully scraped hides that the parchments were made from had yellowed with age, and the knobs of the wooden spindles showed wear from long handling. Each was bound closed with a neatly tied cord. The subjects of their contents had been carefully noted on the outside, and these caught her eyes. Tillit tilted her head to read the lettering; it was in her mother's hand. The scrolls were a mixture of stories from many visits, spanning the years she had spent with Xena, along with studies Gabrielle had made of Amazon history and customs, and philosophical treatises.

She selected one, and went to the table a couple paces away, undoing the cord and unrolling it to read the opening passages. It was an old story, and the wording was different from the version her mother had reproduced in their Norse home decades later. The language wasn't as fluid, nor the descriptions so evocative as her later works, but there was a powerful rawness of emotion, conveyed in these earlier verses, that made the account compelling and immediate. It was more the work of an entertainer than a historian, and spoke to the heart and gut, rather than the heart and head. She read it with rapt attention, consumed by the story of how men had stopped dying while King Sisyphus held Death prisoner. Xena and her mother had eventually freed Celesta, restoring death as a surcease of mortal suffering, only to see her take Talus, a young man Gabrielle had felt the beginnings of love for. She hadn't known it then, but it had foreshadowed much heartbreak to come. Tillit felt as if she was reading from a personal journal, written by a young woman scarcely older than herself.

It brought an insight to Tillit. The Warrior Princess had been a hero, and of that there was no question. She had changed her life in spite of her guilt and perennial self-doubts. Xena had been an inspiration to many during her life, and through Gabrielle's stories, she continued to inspire others to do what was right. But her story had an equivalent epic of growth and heroism in the story of Gabrielle's life. Tillit had always thought of her mother as a strong woman with unbelievable skills and a truer heart than any she'd met. Now she saw the scared and idealistic village girl she had once been. The feelings that were conveyed in this early scroll had brought it all home. Gabrielle had started with little but her heart and her determination. Over the course of her life, she had become as masterful a warrior and as powerful a personality as her mentor and soulmate. She had gained complexity, and she had retained simplicity. It was a tale of growth and triumph she could only hope to emulate, and yet it made heroism accessible to an ordinary person. Still, she knew that her mother was beset by many demons and memories, many heartaches and pains of the soul. Her experiences had carried a great price, and it made Tillit more determined than ever to meet the challenges that she herself would face. In many ways, her mother was to her what Xena had once been to Gabrielle.

When she rerolled the scroll and set it back in its basket, she saw that her mother was still looking at the objects in the hut. She had lifted the mask from the wall, held it up briefly so she could look through the eyeholes, and then rehung it. Grasping the staff, she'd given it an experimental twirl, gauging its balance. She avoided the sword entirely and then sat down on the sleeping pallet, slowly stroking the blanket. Finally she looked over at her daughter with a sad smile.

"Guess I'm getting maudlin in my old age," she said with a half-hearted chuckle, "but in many ways, this was the closest place to home I ever had after I left Potidaea. It was the one place I kept coming back to…a place I'd hoped we could have settled down one day. Of course Xena never wanted to stay in one place, and after Eve was born, well, Greece was kinda out of the question…" she trailed off and looked down at her hands. "I'm glad you got to come here, hon; I'm glad it's still here for you to see."

"It's wonderful, mother," Tillit said, "I can't believe it's real. The things I've read…this is all that and more. I just read your original version of "Death in Chains". It's different from the version you wrote at home. I want to read the other stories that are here too."

Gabrielle looked up at the mention of the story, and then spotted the scrolls in the basket. She went to it and started searching through the parchments, softly muttering to herself and finally selecting one and bringing it to the table. She undid the cord and rolled it out, holding down the ends with the clay weights. Tillit joined her to look at it. At first the symbols looked strange to her, until she realized that her mother had not written this scroll. The lettering was made in bold strokes, precisely aligned on the page into many short verses. The language was poetic, sometimes almost like a riddle, and the meanings were sometimes obscure. It seemed to be a collection of brief moral and philosophical sayings.

"Tillit, if I'd known this had survived, I would have come here years ago," Gabrielle quietly said. Tillit noticed that her mother's hands were shaking.

"What is it, mother?"

"Honey, Xena wrote this scroll, years ago, right after we had survived the most difficult events during our time together. She had just lost her son, Solon, and it was my first daughter, Hope, who had killed him. Xena almost killed me for it. After we straightened the mess out, I suggested that she write down what she'd remembered of the wisdom of her teacher. At first she resisted, but eventually she sat here, night after night, writing it down…sometimes I don't even think she came to bed. Eventually, she finished it and she felt better, knowing that her mentor's words would survive outside of Chin. As far as I know, this is the only copy of Lao Ma's "Book of Wisdom", outside of the Kingdom of Lao. It's probably far from complete, but it's certainly the only copy in the west."

"I remember it being mentioned in your stories, "The Debt", and "Purity"."

"If you take time to read anything here, read this." Gabrielle advised as she sat down and began reading. After a moment, she absently whispered, "What it teaches is the key."

Tillit pulled up a chair and joined her. Together they sat, reading as the afternoon passed and the light faded in the small room. Eventually it became too dark to see, and Gabrielle sighed and stood up, stretching and looking for the oil lamps. She found the four lamps, but the oil had been removed to minimize the fire hazard, and so she sent Tillit out to the dispensary for a cask of lamp oil.

Tillit walked out of the row of historic huts and across the meeting ground. The change from quiet seclusion to a living community was instantaneous. All around her, Amazons were finishing up their day's work as evening gathered shadows in the valley. They called out greetings or jests to one another across the open space. A group of children and what looked like a young wolf scuttled across the far side of the clearing, chasing a hoop, while older Amazons clustered about the doorways of their huts trading gossip. A troop of tired teenagers about her own age walked slowly toward the dining hall, returning from their drills at the practice field. They briefly eyed her with curiosity and returned her wave. She hoped that maybe she could join them for training someday soon.

Tillit remembered the hut that Cyane had pointed out earlier, and headed towards it. It was one of the larger structures adjoining the meeting ground, and had a banner showing two hands exchanging a box hanging by its open door. Nearing the entrance, she heard several conversations from within. When she stepped through the door, she saw that several women were bringing the customers their requested supplies from the large area beyond a counter. It was like a village store, except that she didn't see any money changing hands. Ahead of her, an armed warrior was receiving a coil of leather lacing to go with the new pair of bracers already lying next to her. An older woman was thanking her attendant for bringing over a clay basin, while a third customer was asking for a steel striker to go with a flint.

Towards the center of the counter, an attendant seemed to be free, and Tillit approached her. The woman smiled at her, and then began questioning her since she'd never met her before. Curiosity about strangers had become an Amazon personality trait.

"Hi, I'm Laurel. I know I haven't seen you before, and I don't recognize your tribe from your clothing. Are you new here? Where are you from? Will you be staying in the village? Oh yeah, can I get something for you?"

"I'm Tillit, daughter of Queen Gabrielle," the princess explained, "we just arrived this afternoon and we need some lamp oil."

The older woman with the basin had jerked to a halt at the door when she'd heard Tillit's words and she turned back to watch the exchange. She'd spent all of her sixty-three years as an Amazon, and had lost a daughter at Helicon. Before she left, she'd heard enough news to fill the evening meal with gossip.

"Queen Gabrielle?" Laurel asked, trying to place her. She'd joined the Amazon Nation nine years before, when her village had been destroyed in the war with the raiders. In all that time no Queen Gabrielle had visited them. The name was vaguely familiar, but she'd never met a Queen Gabrielle or heard that any royal visitors were expected in the village. Finally she admitted that she was baffled. "Princess Tillit, I'm sorry but I don't recognize your mother's name. Has she been here before? Where does your tribe come from?"

"Well," Tillit hedged, "I guess it's been a long time since she was here last. This was her tribe, but she's been in the Norselands, and that's where we live now."

Laurel thought for a while longer, and Tillit watched as comprehension slowly dawned on her face. She had never actually met Queen Gabrielle, but she remembered old stories about her. She remembered that she'd died on the cross in the days of Julius Caesar. If the stories were wrong, and she was still alive, then she must be in her sixties or seventies by now. How could her daughter be in her teens, she wondered?

"Either I'm remembering the wrong Queen Gabrielle, or you're a lot older than you look," Laurel finally said, looking harder at Tillit, who giggled in response.

"As far as I know, there's only been one Queen Gabrielle, and I'm sixteen. My mother's had a strange life. Maybe you've heard of her soulmate, Xena of Amphipolis?"

"Xena, the Warrior Princess? But that was forty…fifty years ago…and they died."

"Yeah, they died several times actually." Tillit said, enjoying Laurel's shocked expression. "But she's alive and well now. Anyway, I shouldn't keep her waiting, can I have the oil please?"

For a moment Laurel wondered if this young woman wasn't completely mad. She also wondered if the oil wasn't needed for arson or some other prank. On the other hand, she'd certainly never met Tillit before and she couldn't place her accent. Still, she didn't want to take a chance on offending a visiting princess, so she turned and went to the supply barrel, filled a cask with a gallon of oil, and brought it back.

"Well, here you are, Princess Tillit," Laurel said, presenting the oil, "I hope I'll get a chance to see you again soon."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Tillit told her with a smile, "I think there's going to be a welcoming celebration tomorrow."

"Really…" Laurel replied, a grin spreading across her face. She always loved a party.

"And thanks for the oil, Laurel, see ya."

When Tillit got back to the hut, she found her mother pacing in the dark.

"Sorry it took so long," she apologized, "the woman at the dispensary had a few questions. It seems like a lot of people here think you're dead and she didn't recognize your name at first."

Gabrielle laughed for the first time since they'd arrived. "I suppose we'll be getting a lot of that from the younger women and the ones who have joined since I was here last. Don't let it worry you. After tomorrow, everyone will know who we are."

They quickly filled the four lamps and lit them. A warm wavering light filled the small space, tinting everything golden like a late summer's afternoon. A faint smell of oil accompanied the flames. It felt homey.

"I guess it's time for some food," Gabrielle announced, leading the way to the door.

Tillit's stomach grumbled in response to the suggestion.

"Like mother, like daughter," Gabrielle muttered as they walked out of the hut.

The dining hall hadn't been moved, but it had been expended. It was a bit of a walk, but Gabrielle and Tillit had no trouble finding it. They probably could have followed their noses, blindfolded, and still arrived. Being hungry helped sharpen their senses.

Their entrance was marked by a half-hush in the droning buzz of conversations, and a sweep of heads turning. Gabrielle saw Varia waving them to her table and led Tillit there, through a gauntlet of greetings and well wishing from the diners they passed along the way. Mostly, these came from older Amazons, many of whom Gabrielle recognized from years ago. The newer members tended to stare at them, as unobtrusively as they could manage, or whispered to their tablemates while sneaking glances at them. It had been much the same on the walk over.

Varia greeted them informally, rising to hug Gabrielle and clap Tillit on the shoulder before grasping her forearm, warrior fashion. Tillit could feel the steely strength in her grip. She reckoned the Amazon queen to be a few years younger than her mother, sharp eyed and commanding. Varia was still toned and fit, and could have probably beaten warriors half her age. She was about midway between her mother's height and her own, with deep brown eyes and lustrous wavy chestnut hair. Seeing her close up, Tillit decided that Varia was an inspiring figure, one that warriors would rally to in battle, and the Amazons had been doing so for over twenty years. Now she was smiling, gesturing for them to sit and join her for the evening meal.

At the table sat two of the other five queens, and several other members of the council. They too offered their greetings as the servers brought bowls of stew and another pitcher of ale to the table. Already present were a platter of roasted venison, a large bowl of salad greens, and a basket with loaves of bread. Gabrielle and Tillit filled their mugs and heaped food onto plates already on the table. Tillit dug in immediately while Gabrielle answered questions from Varia, catching up on informal news.

"I see your daughter has inherited your appetite," Varia commented, noticing that Tillit was already halfway through her first serving.

"Actually, she's usually hungrier than I was when you first knew me," Gabrielle said, "since she's still growing, and she probably did inherit my appetite."

"This is delicious, Queen Varia," Tillit gushed, spooning up the last of her stew, "it's so much better than trail food, even when the hunting is successful. This has spices in it, doesn't it?"

"Help yourself to as much as you want," Varia told her, "I think the cooks are constantly experimenting on us. I tasted thyme, bay, sage, and some of those peppercorns we've been getting recently. It is pretty good tonight."

"It's very good, Varia," Gabrielle agreed, finishing her bowl.

"They're getting better with horse meat," Varia deadpanned while beckoning a server over to provide seconds for her guests.

Gabrielle's head jerked up, and Tillit choked. Varia laughed. "Just kidding, you two. We don't cook horses unless things are really desperate. The first Cyane forbade it long ago."

Gabrielle couldn't help but remember the mousy haired kid that she'd met several times in her visions. That so many women through the years had cleaved to her shocked statement, "…you're not supposed to eat horses…", seemed humorous now. Back in the Utma's time, there had been no other use for the "swift ones".

"And now you have brought us the true link to her, Gabrielle," Varia said in awe. "Her wisdom will be accessible to us all. I do have a question though."

"Sure, Varia, what is it?"

"When you presented the dagger to the council, you said that it was an heirloom of your family. What did you mean by that?"

"It's something I saw in a vision, Varia." Gabrielle said. "I was blessed to look ahead through the generations of my descendants, and I saw the Utma there, many years in the future. Then I saw my ancestors with the same vision, and she was there at the start. All those before her came from the paternal line of her children."

Varia was silent, digesting what Gabrielle had told her. Wasn't it just like her, she mused, to have a lineage as unusual as she herself. So, she was the descendant and the foremother of the first Cyane. With a flash of insight, she wondered if the future Cyane had been ripped from a soulmate, a reincarnation of the Warrior Princess…or had she been summoned back through the ages to find the one who held the other half of her soul? She made a point to have La'shaunti investigate.

"I have had other visions, Varia," Gabrielle declared, "and those are the ones which disturb me. I have seen armies, in Ares' service, destroying the world. It will happen far in the future…in the Utma's time. Yet the Utma has said that it hadn't happened in the world she knew."

"Gabrielle," Varia said, her attention riveted now, "you're talking about alternate timelines. Are you thinking about trying to change what will be?"

"I'm afraid I have to succeed, not just try. What could be is too terrible, and I have been sent these visions for that reason. I guess it's my destiny."

"Then it is cruel, my friend. Ares is powerful and it will be hard to kill him."

"Varia, I think killing him would be almost easy. I can't do that either. Mankind needs war and love personified by Ares and Aphrodite…at least for a while yet. Xena believed it, and we saw what happened when one or the other lost their powers. I have to do something else, and I don't know what."

"But it's personal too, isn't it?"

"Yes." Gabrielle admitted. "I swear I will have Xena's ashes back, one way or another. Somehow I don't think he'll just give them to me, or keep from stealing them again, unless he's dead. There has to be an answer, but I just don't see it."

"I'll ask the others in the council, but if anyone can figure this out, it's you, Gabrielle."

"For the sake of the tens of millions I've seen dying, I hope you're right."

Again, Varia sat in silence. Gabrielle's destiny sounded like a suicide mission to her. One of many such missions, she thought, and knowing her, she'll survive. And then what? Once it's commonly known that she descends from the Utma, the nation will clamor for her leadership. I just wonder what else she's planning.

"Gabrielle, what will you do if you succeed in altering the future? Will you finally settle down with us? Will you and Tillit stay with the nation permanently?"

Now it was Gabrielle's turn to sit in silent thought. For Tillit, staying might be the right thing to do. For her, it wasn't possible. At least not yet.

"If I defeat Ares and survive, I will have to return to the Norselands, Varia. I have a son there, eleven winters old. He has recently lost his father, and even now he must be staying with the people of Kaupang near our home. He must be terribly lonely and terribly hurt. He loved his father."

"I see," Varia replied. What more could she say? Fifteen years before, she had become a mother for the first time. A couple in a nearby village was raising her son, happy to have his strong hands for their farm work. Her daughter, so agile and quick to learn, had died three winters ago of a barking cough and fever, at the age of ten. She'd had such bright hopes once. Now Tillit was the only living princess of the original Greek tribe. Queen Cyane had no daughter, and after Gabrielle's recent challenge, Tillit held the Right of Caste for the northern tribe as well. She could unify the nation in ways no one else could. Varia's tribe and Cyane's, both under a single undisputed queen. And she too was descended from the Utma. Within five years, she would be of age to rule the nation…if she were here to do it. Varia wondered how much Gabrielle had taught her.

Various lesser topics filled the remainder of the meal, but eventually Gabrielle noticed her daughter struggling to remain awake. She stifled a yawn herself, and finished her conversations with the other queens. Then she and Tillit made their way back to their hut in the "historic district".

Shortly after returning, Gabrielle and Tillit dozed off on the sleeping pallet, and both slept thankfully and deeply. But not without dreams.


Tillit was in a high place, looking down on a building among rolling fields of crops. The fields made sense, but the building? That was another matter. Its walls were made from slabs of a pale stone, and banks of many glazed windows reflected back blinding highlights from the sun. The roof was flat, and colored a pebbly black. In front of the building a road led into a lot. It was paved a smooth black, and marked with white stripes. In the lot were many shiny metal carts with black wheels, but none had beasts to draw them. Crowds of young people were just leaving, and many seemed happy to do so.

Now she was approaching the building, and she swooped low through a door and into a hallway paneled with many small metal doors. What point was there to them, she wondered, for they were way to narrow for even a child to pass through? On a wall speeding by there hung a sign, Columbia HS Southern Dragons, 1997 All-City Varsity Football Champions. She turned a corner and descended a stairway with tiled walls. From the bottom she heard sobbing.

In a small space under the bottommost flight of stairs, she found a figure huddled with her long legs drawn up to her chest, bound in place by her arms. Her shoulders shook with heartbreaking and bitter loss. Tillit felt compelled to comfort her, though when she reached out, she found that she could make no contact.

Still, it seemed as though this other had sensed her presence. Her head came up from her knees, her raven hair cascading back from a face Tillit recognized, but knew she'd never seen before. She's probably the same age as I am, Tillit thought. What could have made her so sad? The girl was looking around, hurt and confused, her pale blue eyes were red and watery. She was alone, but felt as if some kind spirit had joined her.

"Is that you Amy?" She whispered, her eyes hopefully searching the barren stairwell. "Oh, what happened to you? Where did you go? They said you were on your way home…our friends saw you leave school. I was waiting in the parking lot for you, but you never showed up. No one's seen you since, and it's been three days. Amy, I'm worried sick about you. Please don't be gone…please don't be dead…."

The girl bowed her head again, and her sobbing started afresh. It was all Tillit could do not to join her. Through her sobs, she whispered something more, and Tillit barely heard the words.

"I wish I could see you again, Amy…I wish I'd told you that I love you."


Gabrielle had seen the future before, but nothing like this. Below her, the planet was a ball of colors, floating in the blessed inky night of space. All around her the stars twinkled, cold and beautiful, impersonal and inspiring. They had inspired her curiosity all her life, and they had inspired mankind to what she saw now.

Below her floated a framework, and she knew it was further away and much larger than it looked. She felt as though she could reach out and take it in her hand. She feared for its delicacy, all pristine struts and panels, tubes with windows and tiny lights without flames. It rested in the harsh light and shadow of space. It could only be the work of a sorcerer or a god, but somehow she knew that in this time, it was the pride of mankind.

Again she felt the sensation of compression, as of an arrow traveling towards her from behind, and for a moment, she expected to see an incoming rocket, a destroyer of worlds. She forced herself to confront it, turning to behold a wonder greater than the space station below her. There, gliding silently towards her, was a ship of the skies, something she'd dreamed of long ago, when her soulmate would kid her about her flights of fancy. And yet this ship was real. It gleamed silvery smooth, small wings at its sides, and a lighted window in its nose. No rocket flame followed in its wake, but she felt the power of it, and she knew it was under thrust. It would pass close by and she had but to wait.

Now the sky ship pulled abreast of her, and Gabrielle was treated to a view through the wide windows in its nose. She was amazed. Within the ship there was a room, cleaner than any she had ever imagined, where chairs sat before counters, winking with colored lights. In the central chair sat a woman, and Gabrielle knew her across thousands of years. Though she wore clothing that boggled her mind, the black hair, high cheek bones, and ice blue eyes were the same as those she'd lovingly watched across a campfire on so many lost nights. Surely she was some scion of her soulmate's line, alive and on an adventure in this distant future. Wasn't it just perfect?

Somehow, Gabrielle could hear this woman's thoughts, and her commanding presence felt almost too familiar to bear. Still, she couldn't tear herself away.

Strange that I come to think of you now, isn't it? Preparing to dock back here at Earth? It seems so very long since I was home. Yet even after thirty years, I've never stopped thinking about you. Funny, 'cause I only knew you for six years. Jr. high, and high school…a long time ago now. In spite of all I've seen and done, you're still the mystery I'd give anything to solve. Where did you go that day, Amy? Where did you end up? I just wish I could see you again. And have I told you today that I love you?

Gabrielle knew this kind of loss, and her heart went out to this woman who wore stars on the shoulders of her uniform. She had lost her soulmate, a long, long time ago. Her heart had probably been alone through all the years since. What was she now? Forty-five? Fifty? She had replaced the loss of her heart with her dedication to another dream. Yet even after all those years alone, she still remembered, still wondered, still loved. It was a feeling she knew all too well herself. Discounting the time lost sleeping, she had only known Xena for six years. If Gabrielle could have done anything to comfort this woman, her soulmate's descendant, she would not have hesitated for a heartbeat. It wasn't perfect. It was heartbreaking.

In a flash of light, she was looking over a young woman's shoulder. She was older than Tillit, home on spring break from her last year of college. She lay curled on the bed in her old room, alone. She was staring into a book of faces. Southern Dragons, Class of 1997, the heading on the worn page said; though it was spotted with tears and curling.

"Where did you go?" The tall figure with the long black hair whispered to herself.

Gabrielle looked at the faces in the book. Three rows down and four pictures from the left was a smiling face with a heart drawn around it. It had been signed with a short message.

To Jamie, 4 Ever and Always, Amy. I love you, grrrrl.

It was the Utma.


When Gabrielle awoke with the dream fresh in her mind's eye, she looked across the pallet at her daughter. Tillit was staring out the window with a sad expression on her face. She seemed to be far away.

"What are you thinking, hon?" Gabrielle asked her.

"Oh, it's silly. I had a dream about a girl all alone, crying under some stairs."

"That's sad," Gabrielle agreed, considering her own dreams hadn't been very happy either. "Was she anyone you knew?"

"That's one of the odd things about it. I know I've never met her, but I felt that I'd known her. She'd lost someone, and her heart was breaking."

The sorrow Tillit was describing seemed all too familiar to Gabrielle. "What did she look like?"

"Well, she was sitting down with her knees drawn up to her chest, but I think she was tall. She had straight black hair, pale blue eyes, and she was very pretty, even though she'd been crying her eyes out. I felt so sorry for her, but there was nothing I could do."

"Was she looking for someone named Amy?"

"Mother?" Tillit looked at Gabrielle in shock.

"I dreamed of the same woman at two different ages. I'm sure she was a descendant of Xena's, and she had lost her soulmate, a girl named Amy. Amy is the Utma, honey, and this woman, Jamie, still loved and missed her thirty years later. She'd accomplished amazing things in her life, but her heart was alone in her loss."

"Mother, how can this happen? How could we dream of the same person?" Tillit had more questions, but she didn't expect an answer to any of them.

"Destiny. Certainly mine, and maybe yours too."

"So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I'd like to find a way to tell Jamie what happened to Amy…it might ease her sorrow to know that she went back in time and won renown…."

"Maybe you could talk to the Utma again?"

Gabrielle thought about it for a moment. "Sure, why not," she finally replied. "We'll do it after breakfast."

The celebration day breakfast was a tour de force of morning foods. The cooks understood from experience that few Amazons would be up looking for a morning meal on the day following a night of partying. As a result, they cooked everything the day before and the diners loaded up on battercakes, bacon, ham, fruit filled muffins, sourdough biscuits, eggs, and buttermilk. Warriors didn't even bother trying to suck in their stomachs when they finally left. Throughout the afternoon, many of them would be competing and demonstrating their skills. They would have to avoid another large meal until evening, and so they carb-loaded the night before, and topped off their reserves in the morning.

After breakfast, Gabrielle and Tillit made their way to La'shaunti's hut. They found the shamaness stretched out in a hammock strung between the support posts inside. She had a huge grin plastered on her face. A thin smoke from her ceremonial pipe circulated lazily through the room. Sheaves of drying herbs hung from the ceiling, scenting the air, and racks along the walls held jars, boxes, and pouches. Many scrolls were stacked on a shelf, while cabinets held skin wrapped bundles and other artifacts. Tillit noticed a collection of cleaned and sun bleached skulls; human, animal, and monstrous. La'shaunti paid them only passing attention, tracking them with her eyes briefly and appearing to be in a moderate trance.

"What's up with her?" Tillit asked her mother in a whisper.

"Judging from the leaves and the pipe," Gabrielle said, "I'd guess she's seeking visions by smoking Diviner's Sage."

"Does it work?"

"I have no idea. I guess we could ask her later, but it would be pointless to try now."

"So what about the dagger?"

"Oh, it's on the table over in the corner," Gabrielle said, walking over to it and sitting in a chair.

Tillit joined her at a cluttered and rickety table, taking a second chair. They stared at the dagger. Finally Gabrielle heaved a sigh and lifted it, raising it overhead. This time they were both dragged into the vision as the Utma's yurt exploded into existence around them.

Tillit stared at her new surroundings. It was really primitive, and the fire didn't smell very good. The yurt itself, being made of thick felted horsehair, exuded a smell like a wet animal. The Utma was looking at them, a roasted rabbit haunch halfway to her mouth. She put it back down on a smoothed wooden plank and smiled a greeting at them, before swallowing the mouthful she'd been chewing.

"Ahhhh, what's up, doc?" The first Cyane asked with a goofy voice.

Tillit giggled and Gabrielle looked puzzled. The Utma used a carved toothpick to dig a meat fiber out from between her teeth. "Wascally wabbit," she muttered.

"Cyane, I've seen another dream and I wanted to ask you something," Gabrielle began.

"Sure, Gabrielle. The swami sees all, and the swami knows all," Cyane claimed.

"Actually, we both had connected dreams that were linked to you."

"Now that's freaky," the Utma admitted.

"You're Amy, aren't you?" Tillit innocently asked.

The Utma froze with a shocked look on her face. Then she started crying. Amy was a name from a past she had been ripped out of, an identity and a life that had been stolen from her. She'd been mostly happy as Amy. Her new life with the Churtumlics had been terrifying. With time, she'd adapted and found a place in their ancient world. Finding that place had required her to forget about being Amy. Just to adapt, she'd had to dissociate herself from who she'd been. The Utma suppressed Amy and became Cyane. Tillit and Gabrielle both felt horrible. Cyane was rocking back and forth, sobbing. Finally she managed to choke out a question. "Was that in your dreams? No one's called me that since I came here."

Gabrielle had scooted over to her and draped an arm across her shoulders.

"We saw your friend, Jamie, at three different ages, and she misses you," Gabrielle told her softly.

"Jamie? She really misses me?" Cyane asked in partial amazement. Her crying had diminished to soft hitching, "I mean, I had boyfriends, but I…I've loved her ever since I first met her, but I didn't think she felt that way about me." The Utma flapped her hands beside her head. "She's uhhh, she's just so…everything."

"I saw her three days after you disappeared, and she was all by herself, crying for you at the bottom of a stairwell," Tillit told her. "She said she wished she'd told you that she loved you."

Cyane sniffled, drawing on memories she'd locked up in a box inside. "We used to sit in the stairwell and talk and stuff. It was our private place at school."

"And I saw her several years later, looking at the Southern Dragons Class of 1997 picture book, and then again, thirty years later, and she still missed you." Gabrielle added.

"She really did, Amy," Tillit repeated, "she wondered all that time about what happened to you, and where you went. The first and last times, she said she loved you."

"I'd hoped to hear her actually say that for years," Cyane confessed, "I guess I knew it somehow anyway. She always made me feel special. She's the one I've really missed, being here."

"I wish there was something I could do," Gabrielle said, "some way I could let her know where you went. I think it would make her feel better, at least, not having to wonder."

"I know it would," Cyane said, "and if you ever get a chance, tell her I love her."

"I will, Amy," Gabrielle said, "and there's something else I dreamed of. You see, I saw my descendants and my ancestors, and you were there among both groups."

"For real?" The Utma asked. Gabrielle thought that she was already overwhelmed, because she added matter-of-factly, "well, you've freaked me out again, Gabrielle."

"Amy, I'm not sure what to do yet, but maybe I can change things. I mean that's what I have to do with the God of War and Armageddon anyway. Maybe I can change things for you and Jamie too. I'm sure she's related to my soulmate."

"Kewl, Gabrielle. I'm open to suggestions, and you know where to find me. Maybe we can do lunch," she said, glancing down at the rabbit haunch.

The vision started to fade. The yurt and the Utma seemed to disappear into a harsh flickering light. As they returned to La'shaunti's hut, they heard the Utma stuttering, "Th, th, tha, that's all folks."

They became aware of the shamaness coughing and a strong smell of burnt herbs. A cloud of smoke swirled around her. By the time they made their way out of the hut, La'shaunti was catatonic in her hammock. Outside, the celebration was beginning.

Gabrielle and her daughter walked back to the central meeting grounds, where the dances and many of the contests and demonstrations were being held. At first all they could see was a large crowd cheering. Being taller than her mother, Tillit noticed Cyane waving them over to a chest height platform where some of the council members sat. From that vantagepoint, at the north side of the meeting grounds, they could see that the crowd was standing in a ring, watching the demonstrations in the center. They'd started less than half a candlemark before, Cyane told them, and the two hadn't missed much.

Gabrielle and Tillit had arrived in time to see the end of a choreographed sword demonstration by six weapons instructors. It was an advanced training form, in which each warrior took her turn executing moves to defeat the other five in succession. When done by beginners, it was tentative, slow, and labored, for the movements were complex. At the speed the master instructors were moving, the whole performance seemed to flow naturally, like a fast and deadly dance. The performance concluded with the line of warriors bowing to their leaders on the platform, and to their audience. The onlookers rewarded them with a roaring cheer.

The next group entered the meeting ground as the sword instructors were leaving. This time, a lone warrior wielding two short swords, faced off against four Amazons armed with spears. Cyane, acting as Mistress of Ceremonies, announced that this was a light contact sparring match. A wave of comments could be heard from the crowd. Cyane continued, informing the audience that the lone warrior, Listheta, had wanted to test her techniques with the two swords she'd spent the last three seasons practicing. It wasn't an unusual request, but the weapons were, being somewhat shorter than the standard Amazon short swords carried by archers. Listheta's blades were about three hands long, sharpened on both straight edges, and came to wicked points. The cross guards were just under a hand wide, formed of steel rod. They were unembellished and looked highly functional.

"I wonder if she'll use them like you use your sais, mother?" Tillit asked.

"I very much doubt it," Gabrielle replied, "the only similarity is that she uses them in pairs."

The match began. The four warriors presented Listheta with a phalanx that she flipped over, drawing the flats of the blades across the neck of one spear woman who immediately withdrew. She landed and used the blades to parry the spearheads of her attackers, always keeping to one end of their line.

"She's gotten very good with them," Cyane commented, as they watched the second spear woman withdraw. "Her technique requires a lot of acrobatics though, so I don't know if we can start teaching these weapons to very many of our warriors."

"Her style requires a lot of space to use effectively," Gabrielle said, "in a close quarters battle she wouldn't have room to maneuver. Having a squad of warriors trained like her could be very helpful though, especially outdoors, as shock troops against small forces."

"Has she been practicing against swords?" Tillit asked.

"Yes, and she's effective against a single sword." Cyane told them. "She wanted to be able to apply them against Roman deserters or brigands, armed with spears and swords."

A third spear woman withdrew after sustaining a simulated chest wound.

"Gabrielle, I think it would be a great way to introduce yourself to our newer members, if you'd do a demonstration," Cyane suggested. She was smiling as she often did, and Gabrielle grinned back. It was a good idea.

"Sure," she agreed, "and I know just the thing."

On the sparring ground, the fourth spear woman had just been "stabbed". She and Listheta bowed to the wildly cheering crowd. Cyane rose from her seat and spoke to them and their audience.

"Your sisters thank you for perfecting a new weapon, Listheta. You make our nation strong with your contributions to our welfare." Another round of applause rose from the crowd. Finally Cyane continued. "Next, I am proud to announce a special demonstration by Queen Gabrielle, who has returned to us after an absence of almost twenty winters." The crowd cheered the news, predictably curious about their visitor.

Gabrielle came down from the platform and made her way to the center of the demonstration space.

"For my demonstration I need targets," Gabrielle said to the spectators, "are there four archers among you?"

After a rumble of comments and a moment of indecision, four women dressed as members of Cyane's tribe edged into the space with their bows and quivers. They moved to stand in a row, facing Gabrielle. The highest ranking among them addressed her.

"We await your commands, Queen Gabrielle."

"All I need you to do is fire four arrows, in a high arc, away from the sun. I'll do the rest."

"On your command, Queen Gabrielle," the lead archer replied, knocking an arrow and preparing to draw as the other three mirrored her movements.

"Archers draw," Gabrielle commanded, and the four bows flexed as the archers pulled the bowstrings to their ears. " And release." The four bows sang and the arrows leapt into the sky with a hiss.

Gabrielle waited unmoving as the arrows climbed, then suddenly she snatched the chakram from its clip and cast it hard after the arrows on an intercept course. The spinning ring whined as it closed on the arrows, the sound doubling as it split into its halves and sliced through the first pair of shafts. The halves of the chakram altered course and caught the second pair of arrows, severing them as well. The arrow fragments tumbled from their flight towards the ground. The chakram rejoined itself with a metallic ping, spun lazily overhead for a moment, and then sliced its way back through the air to Gabrielle's hand. For a moment the crowd was silent, and then they erupted in cheers.

When they quieted somewhat, Gabrielle held up her hands to silence them.

"Archers, I thank you," she said, "would you honor me with the flight of four more arrows, the same as the last?"

"By your command, Queen Gabrielle," the lead archer responded crisply.

This time Gabrielle paused before issuing the command to draw. The archers were facing away, and too many yards separated her from the crowd for them to see the emptiness in her eyes.

"Draw," she commanded, but this time her voice was hollow, "and release." The bows lofted the four arrows sharply into the sky.

She waited until they were safely aloft, just a heartbeat for them to clear sixty feet, and then they disintegrated, violently spraying splinters into the air. On Gabrielle's back, the Eastern Dragon briefly flared. The crowd was utterly silent, so quiet that they heard the arrowheads dropping on the hard, pounded earth. Only very slowly did a subdued buzz of comments begin to rise to their ears. The Amazons were baffled. The chakram they could understand; it was a unique weapon used with consummate skill, but this? They stared at Gabrielle, who shrugged, thanked the archers, and climbed back up the steps onto the platform. Cyane herself was speechless.

"So what's next?" Gabrielle asked with genuine interest. Beside her, Tillit giggled as Cyane's mouth moved soundlessly like a trout.

"Lunch?" Gabrielle innocently suggested.

Eventually Cyane regained control of her voice and announced the next demonstration. Eventually the Amazons employed denial and alcohol to explain away what they'd seen. Servers brought snacks and mugs of hard cider for the dignitaries on the platform, but they seemed a bit nervous around Gabrielle and Tillit.

A half-candlemark after Gabrielle's demonstration, Varia stormed up onto the platform and joined them. She was more than curious about certain rumors she'd heard.

"Gabrielle, what did you do?" She demanded with concern. "Are you still mortal?"

"Huh?" Gabrielle asked, confused by Varia's conclusion.

"Half my warriors are swearing you bewitched their vision, while the other half claim you have the powers of a goddess. Now what's going on?"

"Oh," Gabrielle said, now understanding Varia's outburst, "I demonstrated the power of the universe, I guess you could call it. It's something Xena did in Chin. She learned it from her mentor, Lao Ma."

Varia stared at her, then she looked at Tillit. The princess swallowed nervously. Gabrielle took another bite of a berry filled pastry and chewed thoughtfully.

"It's very useful," she continued calmly, "but it takes years of practice…about twenty years for me. Anyway, I'm sorry if it upset the warriors. We've sorta gotten used to it."

"So is this how you plan to fight Ares?"

"Well, partly, if I can figure out how to use it without killing him."

"Or turning him to stone," Tillit added, trying to be helpful. Somehow it only seemed to make Varia more agitated. She sat nervously watching the demonstrations, while periodically casting glances at her visitors and whispering with Cyane.

Finally though, she calmed down enough to watch the rest of the afternoon's festivities without twitching. That the servers had switched from cider to ale didn't hurt matters either. Alcohol always seemed a good poultice for psychic upset among the Amazons.

As the afternoon wore down to evening, tables for feasting were set up around the edges of the meeting ground, with the center reserved for the drummers and dancers. Torches were set on posts throughout the village, and casks were lined up to be tapped. The sun had fallen below the high ridge to the west, leaving the village in a softening twilight.

Soon the shadows had lengthened, bringing night's doorway to the Amazons. While dancers adjusted their costumes, single drums boomed as the players tested the tension of the tuning thongs and head skins. The torches were lit, and the village blazed in the flickering light of many flames. Now the feeling of history and tradition settled over the sisterhood, fed by the waiting silence and the ancient quality of torchlight, unchanged since the Utma's time. All seven queens and the full council sat on the platform, and they rose as one and raised their arms.

The largest drums boomed across the valley and their echoes leapt back off the surrounding ridges. At the start of the second measure, the smaller drums joined them, weaving intricate, fast paced rhythms for the dancers. The dancers, who had been crouched, unmoving on the ground, leapt into motion, circling the open space and gyrating with precise abandon. When their feet stamped the ground in unison, it seemed as if the trees shook around the clearing, and the very air carried the shock wave like thunder. It was deafening, exhilarating, and hypnotic, all at the same time. Those who weren't performing stood along the sides of the meeting ground, swaying to the beat, mesmerized by the spectacle.

Tillit had never seen anything like it, and she let the sights and sounds wash over her, drawing her into its power. Gabrielle had never seen so many dancers or drummers in a performance, and she wondered what Amy, the Utma, would think of it. She would be proud, she finally decided, to see how her people had grown. Though she had been torn from her home at Tillit's age, she had led her tribe to victory and change. Gabrielle knew how proud she was of Cyane, her descendant and ancestor, but she also felt a deep sympathy for her soulmate, Jamie. I just wish I could think of a way to make things better, she thought, even if this is the way they have to be.

The dancers and drummers continued their performance for a quarter candlemark before the queens finally stood and again raised their arms. Suddenly, silence filled the night, as fully as the pounding drums had a moment before. The last echoes resounded off the ridges and faded into memory, joining the images of the dancers under the torchlight, to be remembered for many seasons to come. The silence stretched through several dozen heartbeats. When the queens sat down again, the starting signal for the banquet was given, and the feast began.

During the course of the banquet, as the ale and wine loosened her tongue, Gabrielle let the council know that she sought a temple in Macedonia. A Temple of Ares that she had seen in a dream. (Nightmare, more like. Wooah, that wine was pretty strong).

"Inside, it looks like a cavern, but what I saw was a room with an altar of war," she told her eager listeners. "The altar was backed by a giant skull, while above it was a bronze backdrop of rays, spreading from a giant ruby. Before the altar lay a massive stone sarcophagus, carved with the likeness of Ares, the God of War."

"It doesn't sound familiar to me," Cyane said, "but I haven't traveled much in Macedonia, and I certainly haven't visited Ares' temples."

"Nor have I," Varia declared. "Ares always came to meet me here, and I haven't seen him in over twenty years."

"There were only three known temples of Ares in Macedonia," said Karesh, an adviser on history and lore. "Years ago, before I joined the nation, I traveled some, and heard many stories. Ares was worshipped then in Therme, Pella, and Argilus."

"Therme I know well," Gabrielle said. "Argilus I visited once, (I hated that town), but Pella I've never seen. Do you know what the temple there looked like?"

"Sure," Karesh said, "it's built according to the Ionian order, on perhaps an acre of land, in rolling hills on the western side of the town. The building itself is of moderate size, and it is very old. Much worship centered there during the Peloponnesian War. So the legends say."

"Well, that doesn't sound too promising," Gabrielle confessed. (She just wants to hear herself talk)! "Do you know if any of these temples have vaults underground?"

"None that I know of," Karesh replied.

"I saw some things that might catch in your eye," La'shaunti offered from further down the table, "being the smokin' Sage of Diviners that I am."

Gabrielle looked at her hopefully after realizing what she meant. "La'shaunti, any help you can give would be very welcome." (Oh pleeeeease, you nut case).

"The swami sees all, and the swami knows all," she said with a wink. Gabrielle gulped, realizing that was what the Utma had claimed in her vision. "Nothing up my sleeve, doc," she assured Gabrielle, glancing down at her suede bikini top, "and I can assure you that borders change with the passing of wind…the winds of war, anyway."

"Huh?" Gabrielle was pretty lost after that comment. (Can't she just speak Greek to me)? Then slowly, the meaning dawned on her. (Passing of wind, hehehe). Macedonia's borders would be redrawn many times in the aftermath of wars. It had happened before, and it would certainly happen again, between now and Armageddon Day. "So the temple may not be in what is now Macedonia?"

" It is almost certainly…" La'shaunti agreed, "…not."

"You didn't happen to see the altar room I described?"

"It was the same, but appeared different to my eye," La'shaunti admitted. "The one I saw contained no giant ruby. The skull had giant horns. But it was otherwise as you described, My Queen."

"Well, a ruby isn't the main point, if everything else you saw was the same, right?"

"Oh, but it will make a world of difference," La'shaunti assured her, "or at least, it will make a difference to the world."

"Ok," Gabrielle agreed, (finally a break!), "it must be the right temple."

"They are the same temple, My Queen, but that was no ruby. It was the mystical Eye of Hephaestus. So the legends say." La'shaunti winked at Karesh.

"The Eye of Hephaestus?" Funny, he had two when Xena killed him, she thought.

"Yes he did, My Queen," La'shaunti commented, addressing Gabrielle's thoughts and causing the blonde's jaw to drop. "This eye is another of that forge god's forgeries," La'shaunti explained. "The eye blindly sees what is set before it, and it will see no change. It is blind to the world of sight. So the legends say. But it can only be made to watch by another creation of the god of forgers."

"That would include the chakram!" Gabrielle excitedly exclaimed, drawing it from her hip and setting it on the table.

La'shaunti picked it up and pressed it to her forehead. "This one seems neither quite dark enough nor quite light enough. It will work eventually, especially since it's really two halves."

Gabrielle snapped the chakram into the two halves.

"No, not that way," La'shaunti admonished, "you must use the Dark Chakram only, because the eye is blind, you see? The Chakram of Light was made for killing gods, so the legends say."

"But I don't know how to separate the halves that way," Gabrielle admitted, (damn it), "I didn't think anyone knew how to do that after Xena joined them."

No one at the table had any suggestions to make after that. Few of them knew much about the chakram to begin with. Gabrielle had probably learned as much about it as anyone living knew, back when Xena had balanced the dark and light halves. That had been right after her resurrection forty-five years ago, and whatever else had been written in Kaleb's scroll was lost.

Gabrielle was stumped about what to do with the chakram and how the Eye of Hephaestus could be used in a plan. She sighed. (Double damn it)! If anything, she had more questions now than before.

"La'shaunti, do you have any idea of where the temple you saw is located?" (You ditz).

"Any idea? Yes and no. Yes, I saw a wide valley between tall highlands, where a river spanned by a bridge curves around a point of land as it runs towards a sea. A walled city stood on the heights of that point, above the river, where a road led from docks to a strong gate in the wall. The temple faced the city from across the river, perhaps half a league from the gate. No, I have no idea where this is. Does that help?"

Incredible, Gabrielle thought, (through the wine buzz). The God of War was really obsessed. (Wretch). La'shaunti's description could be only one place, and Gabrielle knew it well. The Seer had described the Stryma Vale, where the city of Amphipolis stood, overlooking the Stryma River. Long ago, it had been heavily fortified against attacks by Persia, Athens, and Sparta, and it had been the home of the Warrior Princess. It was probably the very same temple that Atrius had come home from, intent on slaughtering his baby daughter, Xena, all those long years ago. Gabrielle realized that she should have suspected this. Ares had brought Xena's ashes almost all the way home. (Thieving bastard). Well I'll finish the job, Gabrielle promised her soulmate. Finally I will bring your ashes home to rest with your family. And somehow, Ares will rest for eternity, just half a league away, across the river. (How cozy).


"So now the time of destiny draws near, my friend."

Destiny, huh? Guess you know how I always felt about that, Eli.

"Yes, I know. But things are different now, Xena. Gabrielle has accepted her part in the destiny of mankind, and you have a part to play as well, if you want the destiny you both share to be realized. Your reincarnations and descendants will be joined. It begins with the destruction of your urn. You accepted that, implicitly, when you accepted back those wings."

Knowing what hangs in the balance, I would have accepted it without the wings. Because our love transcends heaven and hell, Gabrielle, Xena thought. It transcends earth and time, and I will do my part…because our love transcends destiny.

"Yes, you will do your part, my friend. Do you see that living the Way of the Warrior is also serving the Way of Love?"

I do.

"You see, Xena, it is the most powerful force, but it comes bearing so many faces, that sometimes, it passes like a stranger one has known since birth."

Then I shall grasp it without moving, and hold it in my empty hands.

"So you shall, and the Western Dragon will fly."


In the Amazon village, the celebration continued through the candlemarks of the night, and in the dark, many reeled, stumbled, fumbled, and were groped. As they had for generations, the celebrants entertained themselves, with feats to be laughed at when sober and duplicated while drunk. Unlike her last welcoming celebration, the queens retained their dignity to a great extent. Gabrielle in particular, reticent to provide an example of debauchery for her daughter, eventually made her way to the hut that she and Tillit shared. She found Tillit snoring on the pallet, having consumed ale in quantities similar to what a typical Viking girl her age would have consumed on a good holiday.

"At least she made it home," Gabrielle muttered. (Tartarus, at least I did too, hehehe. What is that? Gods, is that the sun coming up? Well, oops).

In the following days, Gabrielle and Tillit began to blend into the Amazon's world. Gabrielle spent time with the Amazon Council, sharing what wisdom she had learned with her sisters. Tillit joined her age mates in training, finding some parts challenging and some parts undemanding. Using her determination and persistence, she managed to start filling in the weak areas of her training as an Amazon Princess and warrior. She found that being a part of the life of the village was inspiring, and she was giving serious thought to staying when her mother went back to care for her brother. Both she and Gabrielle were aware that there was a mission that demanded the queen's attention, and it was a matter of destiny. It called Gabrielle even more strongly than her duties to the nation, and, though she'd have been loath to admit it, more strongly than the bonds to her home in the north. It was just as well. That part of her destiny was already achieved.