They were five days on the road. For the Warrior Princess it was a period where the daylight candlemarks were filled with boredom and discomfort, while the evenings offered the prospect of besting Caesar at Chess (something she looked forward to doing as much as she enjoyed humiliating him on the battlefield!).
After the first day, once the camp had been erected and night had fallen, Xena was allowed out of her cage and wagon, and taken into the tent that was always set next to Caesar's. The accommodation was large enough to house her and her watch dogs, usually increased to ten for this situation. She was given a blanket in the middle of the tent for her bed, and she was secured by a chain running from her collar to a heavy bolt driven deep into the ground. This allowed her to sit but not to stand, giving the legionaries a modicum of security from any rash action by her.
Around the outside of the tent, as always, was a guard of twenty men. No one was allowed near the area unless they carried authorisation from either Caesar or Flaccus, effectively cutting her off from everyone else in the camp. All guards were changed on a three candlemark basis to make certain that no one lost concentration about what they were doing. All in all, it was an effective way of keeping the prisoner secure, even without the added threat of Gabrielle hanging over her head.
Each evening, after she had eaten the plate of food she was given, Caesar would visit along with Patroclese, who brought his chess set with him. They barely exchanged words as they both concentrated on the game. For Xena it was a chance to best her captor, for Caesar it provided the chance to beat the Warrior Princess in a non-lethal situation. For both it was proving to be an addiction.
On that first evening as they played, while Xena concentrated on breaking up a slashing attack from her opponent's high priest, Caesar told her quite casually, "It appears that Brutus has found two of your friends."
Her blue eyes snapped up and locked onto his brown ones with startling intensity before she turned them back to the board, - He'll tell me when he's ready, - she told herself coldly, forcing herself to patience and to concentrate on the game.
If Caesar expected her to press him about either the identity of the captured men, or news of Gabrielle, he was sorely disappointed. But then again, her silence didn't really matter, because he knew that each of his words would sting her like fire, "Seems that the thief and the fool got careless," he continued in his bored, casual tone, "I'll really have to decide just what to do with them." He smiled viciously as a harder note crept into his voice, "Perhaps I'll have them executed, as a warning to any other 'friends' that you might have, not to interfere with Roman justice."
She knew he wasn't going to do that. Not when he could use them in a similar vein to Gabrielle. It gave him a stronger hand to play and she was well aware of it! She refrained from commenting, forcing herself to focus on the chess, using her tower to take out the intruding high pries and start a counter-attack of her own.
Caesar studied Xena carefully. He sat on a cushion opposite her, close enough to touch her, close enough to smell the scent of her. Even after long confinement, in dirty, ragged, blood marked clothes, she had an odour that was uniquely her own. Indescribable, it was heady and intoxicating. Coupled with her dark beauty, she was enough to make any man desire her. He smiled at his thoughts, - Desires like that could get a man killed! - He was realistic enough to settle for using her in his plans and the fighting pits. Turning her into a concubine was not an option he considered other than in his dreams. He valued his life too highly. Pushing forward he used his empress to take out one of her horsemen.
She moved her tower forward to threaten his emperor and waited for him to counter the move which would open the board to her empress within three moves and give her victory within five. She allowed a predatory smile to glide across her lips as she looked at him, knowing the game was hers.
Caesar frowned in concentration as he looked at the inevitable end that the move dictated here, "Your battle," he conceded, a hint of anger lurking around the edges of his tone.
"My game, I think you mean," purred Xena contentedly.
"Oh no, Xena," he shook his head in emphatic denial. "The game is all mine and I'm the master of it ... and you."
Xena favoured him with a look that could have driven nails through six inches of steel, "In your dreams," she told him, her voice dropping to a low, menacing, register.
His faced darkened before being smoothed into a broad smile that came nowhere close to touching his hard eyes, "You know, Xena, I think I have been far too lenient with you of late. Since I sent your little bard away, you have grown increasingly ... how shall I put this ... less tractable. Well, you're storing up a lot of punishments for poor Gabrielle. Do you think she'll forgive you for the beatings she's going to receive when we join her in Rome?"
"You haven't got me there yet," she reminded him darkly.
"Ah!" he actually produced a genuine smile, "Still think you can slip your leash and get to your friend before her guards get the message to ... play with her, shall we say. I think she might just welcome the cross after that, don't you?"
Rage and anger blotted out thought as she made a lunge for the monster in front of her, only to be jerked harshly back by the collar and chain at her neck. She lay on the ground gasping for breath, her hands unable to sooth her tortured throat, held short by their own chains.
"That wasn't a bright move, Xena," chided Caesar gently. "I really am going to have to teach you a little humility. Respect for your betters perhaps?" He motioned to the guards around the edge of the tent, "Teach her her place," he told them as he rose effortlessly from his cushion. "Don't damage her too much. Bruise her a little .. just so that she learns a dog does not try to bite it's master."
He left as the ten soldiers began to systematically beat her between shoulder and ankles with their heavy batons. Nothing that would break bones or do vital damage, but enough to leave her battered and sore for a few days. Xena gritted her teeth and allowed only the occasional grunt of pain to escape her, chalking up another tally to add to Caesar's ever increasing score.
When her guards had finished 'chastising' her, Patroclese approached and examined the damage that had been done, "Nothing broken," he told her.
"That was the object of the 'lesson', wasn't it?" she told him rhetorically, "Just Caesar letting me know my place." She failed to hide a wince as she sat on her bruised posterior .. travelling for the next few days was going to be more than a little uncomfortable.
"Why do you go out of your way to provoke him like that, Xena?" demanded the healer, as he applied some salve to the bruised and torn skin around her neck where the collar had bitten deep.
The Warrior Princess turned angry blue eyes on him, "Because it's the only way I can fight him at the moment." and the thought rang in her mind, - If I give up the fight, if I allow him to cower me, then not only does he gain victory but I also lose who I am and I might as well be dead. - She gave a mirthless smile and told the healer seriously, "A little pain is worth it to know that he cannot bend me to his will. It gives me something to live for."
"But that's just stubborn pride talking!" he yelled at her angrily. He had tried hard to fight it, but against all his prejudices, pre-conceived loyalties and general beliefs he found he really liked this woman, "Bend, Xena. Accept your new lot in life. Things will then get better for you and Gabrielle. He values you greatly and you could find living so much more comfortable if you would just submit."
"Never!" she hissed. The word impregnated with all the rage, pride and passion that constituted her being.
Patroclese shook his head sadly and collected the chessmen and board together before leaving the tent, "Goodnight, Xena. Sleep well."
The following day had proven to be the trial she had expected. Her body was a mass of purple, black and blue contusions that allowed her to find no way of sitting without being constantly reminded of her discomfort. Added to this, the rain that had plagued them on their trip to Lugdunum had given way to hot sunshine and thick sticky humidity, that left all the passengers, in the stuffy wagon, irritable.
By the evening stop, Xena was tired, aching, and in a bad mood. Needless to say, Caesar won the evening's chess match as she found it hard to concentrate her focus on the game. The Roman had gloated over his easy victory, but had been disappointed over his inability to torment the Warrior Princess with words, as she flatly refused to say anything to him.
He had ordered another beating before he left the tent, and Xena began to suspect that her punishments had more to do with the physical impression that Caesar wanted to present at his meeting with Verchinex, than with trying to break her spirit. The bruising that he obviously wanted her to show was nothing that she couldn't easily handle and would heal very quickly if not added to. It was, therefore, part of the show that the Roman noble intended to stage.
The next three days had followed the same pattern. Xena became so used to the constant ache and soreness that it no longer had the power to trouble the light sleep that she took at night, - I suppose you can become used to anything over time, - she mused. However, it did leave her with a body that was smothered with skin that ranged in colour from sickly yellow to black, and included a variety of browns, blues, purples and greens that showed through the rents made in her torn and tattered clothing.
On that sixth day, she was aware that the Seventh Legion did not break camp. The guard maniple and the wagon had continued alone on it's march, which made Xena certain that they were nearing their destination. Wherever they had been heading, they reached it by mid-afternoon. The Warrior Princess could hear the sounds of a large tent being erected, larger than Caesar's normal command tent, - A pavilion then, of some sort, - she assumed, - A place to hold the meeting, - was her speculation.
She spent the rest of the hot afternoon and evening stuck in the cage in the wagon. Xena guessed that Caesar wasn't going to take a chance that some Gaulish spy saw and recognised her as she was moved from her travelling accommodation to wherever Caesar planned to keep her for the night. - Of course, - she brooded as she shifted her position in the cage, perspiration running down her face and over her cramped body, - he could always leave me in here all night! -
She almost convinced herself that that was what he intended to do, when dusk had long passed and there seemed to be no movement to let her out. However, several candlemarks after nightfall, Flaccus finally appeared to unlock the cage and supervise her movement.
She had been right. The tent erected was a huge, silken pavilion. She paid it little real attention as her busy eyes checked out the dispositions of the sentries and the lay of the land. Unfortunately, it was a new moon shedding very little light in a cloudy sky, so she got little more than the impression that they were probably in a wide valley, close to the river that ran through it.
With sore aching muscles that had set from the long, uncomfortable confinement, Xena was as much dragged as allowed to shuffle into the brightly lit pavilion. She blinked the glare away and took stock of her surroundings as she was hustled through the wide flaps of fabric that served as a door, and could be raised to open the full front of the tent, making it appear as little more than an extended canopy, allowing for easy access and open observation.
The ground of the pavilion, she noticed had been strewn with rugs and long banks of cushions were scattered down each side to where a table stood opposite the opening with one large, gilded chair behind it. The whole effect looked almost regally elaborate and was designed, she suspected, to make the visiting Gauls feel nervous and out of place.
Behind the table were three fabric doorways that obviously led into rear chambers. Caesar was evidently in one of them, but she had no idea what the other two were for, unless she was to be held in one of them .. though she had expected to be tethered in the central entrance area, especially when Flaccus ordered her to sit down there.
She obeyed his instruction. She tried not to invite any more punishments to herself than those she considered to be strictly necessary. For the most part she obeyed Flaccus and the other guards, but she refused to give Caesar the same obedience; he was the one she saved her resistance for. Her eyes followed the Senior Centurion as he entered the 'room' on the left behind the table.
Ten guards remained watching her, but she was not chained to the ground as had been the normal routine. She sat quietly, and ate the food that they gave her. Just bread and cheese that evening, - But I'm hardly in any position to object, now am I? - she thought wryly as she munched on the brown travel bread and the hard tangy cheese, - Beside's, - she was forced to admit, - I've eaten worse. -
When Caesar didn't appear for the evening chess match, and she still hadn't been fastened down for the night, she decided to test how far this unexpected freedom stretched. Moving gracefully and with fluid strength she stood up and stretched .. as far as she could .. carefully.
She was instantly aware of ten men snapping into increased alertness with batons ready to subdue her should it prove necessary, "Easy boys," she reassured them softly, "I just needed to stretch a bit,"
"Sit down," ordered the decurion in charge, firmly.
Xena smiled obligingly and slowly lowered herself back to her former position on the rugs. Chaffed by inactivity, she allowed her mind to contemplate the coming meeting. She suspected that Verchinex would be there the following day, for she doubted that Caesar would leave himself in too exposed a position for longer than necessary.
In a way it would be good to see the Gaul leader again. After they had slipped out of Rome, and got back to the ship, they had sailed with the chieftain to Massilia and, before dropping him off there, she and Gabrielle had got to know and like the man. Previously, they'd only had the myth to go on, much like he had with Xena herself, and that short interlude had given them both a chance to see the people behind the legends, with the bard, of course, taking notes.
However, although it would have been good to see Verchinex under normal circumstances, this was far from a normal time. She knew that she was going to be used in some way against the Gaul, probably with a direct assault on his honour, it was just a question of what Caesar would demand for it.
As if just thinking of the man had given her the power to summon him, the Roman general appeared from the left hand 'room' flanked by Flaccus and Titus, the Junior Centurion. Caesar allowed his gaze to linger on Xena for a moment, before saying, "Very well Titus see to it." The Centurion saluted and left the pavilion. Caesar turned his attention back to his captive as he seated himself in the throne like chair behind the table. He smiled at her almost benignly, "Well, Xena," he said smugly, "I suppose you're wondering what all this is about."
The Warrior Princess allowed a small quirk of amusement, for his arrogance, to show, before replying, "You're meeting Verchinex tomorrow. Obviously you're seeking to work out some form of truce between your forces and his, so it will leave you free to go back to Rome and announce that all is quiet on the western front. That should give you a chance to pull some of Pompey's teeth and quash some of the rumours about the execution of Crassus."
As he listened to Xena outline his carefully laid plan, the smile had gradually fallen from Caesar's face to be replaced by an angry scowl, - The woman must be a witch, - he snarled to himself as she had more or less detailed his general plan, which no one other than himself had known. - Still she hasn't mentioned her own part in my plans, so perhaps it's just because she's almost as good at manipulating, people and events, as I am. - He opened his mouth to give her some explanation of her part in all of this, but she continued before he could do so.
"You're going to use me, in some way, to manipulate Verchinex's honour. He is indebted to me for rescuing him from your executioners, and you intend to use that to compel him in some way," she told him bluntly, not trying to hide the contempt in her eyes she felt for him doing so, nor the outrage she felt at being used in such a manner, even though she maintained a relaxed outer appearance.
Caesar offered her a slow derisive handclap as she finished her analysis, "Very good, Xena," he congratulated her coldly, "Well, my sweet, having worked out the basic elements, I think you can wait for tomorrow to witness the details at first hand." He snapped his fingers and she became aware of some movement at the pavilion entrance, but maintained her eye contact with the Roman general.
"For now," he continued, "we need to make sure that you're going to be comfortable for the night and ready for the meeting tomorrow." Two guards approached her and hauled her roughly to her feet. A thick, heavy bar of wood was threaded past the crook at her elbow, across her back and through the elbow crook on the other side, effectively removing all chance of using her hands. She strained the muscles of her arms and back to test the strength of the beam, and was not surprised to feel no give.
The bar was five feet long and had a metal ring at either end. Chains were attached to the rings which could be used to steer the prisoner. Flaccus motioned the guards to follow him, and Xena was forced towards the central chamber at the rear of the pavilion.
As she cleared the door flaps, she could see two heavy wooden posts that had been set into the ground. The legionaries manoeuvred her so that she would be facing the entrance and then secured the chains from the crossbeam, through the iron ring at the top of each post, and hauled them in tight so that Xena's upper body was bent forward and her weight rested painfully on her arms and shoulders. More lengths of chain were then produced to secure each of her ankles to rings at the base of each post, and finally, the collar chain was secured to a stake driven into the ground in front of her. Tethered in this way, the only thing she could move was her head .. just a little.
"Now I know you understand the generalities of my designs," purred Caesar, as he entered the 'room'. "This is just a minor precaution to make sure that you don't do anything foolish, and that Verchinex fully understands the situation." His face creased with pleasure as Xena scowled at him, he had mastery here whether she was ready to concede it or not.
He turned to go and then stopped, almost as if a thought had suddenly crossed his mind, "Oh yes," he said turning back, "gag her."
He watched as Flaccus forced the gag into her mouth and tied it tightly behind her head. Xena couldn't fight against it, but she allowed her dislike of this latest indignity to show in her blue eyes.
"Can't have you shouting out and ruining Verchinex's surprise now, can we?" Caesar told her happily. Why do you think I've gone to all the trouble of keeping you hidden from the public gaze?" He ran an almost tender finger along the length of her silky smooth jawline and his smile deepened as she jerked her head away from him as far as she could. "Sleep well, my slave." He told her with almost affection in his voice, "Things will change for you tomorrow ... one way or another."
Xena found that her current circumstances of detention, precluded any chance of sleep. The way that they had her strung up ensured total discomfort leaving her back, arms shoulders and neck aching and stressed, - What I wouldn't give for a massage, - she thought longing for the chance to work some of the kinks out of her abused muscular frame.
The night had rolled by leaving her drained and far from confident about what the day would bring. Caesar's parting words kept rolling around in her mind, - 'Things will change' he said. The question is what? And how will it effect Gabrielle and the others? - She had no answers and the questions served to increase her concern over the fate of her friends which was bound inextricably into her own. - Of course that's been part of his intent. He want's me off balance and unsure of myself. Well, Roman, you'll have to do better than that, because the one surety in this life is that somehow, someday, I'm going to kill you! -
With the rising of the sun, the guards were changed and she could hear stirring throughout the pavilion, although Caesar hadn't made his presence known yet. She could feel her lips cracking through lack of moisture. The gag ensured her silence, but also leeched the fluids from her mouth making her throat sore and dry as well. She had no expectation of receiving any water until after Caesar's meeting with Verchinex had been completed.
A candlemark after sunrise she heard Caesar in the outer chamber listening to what his scouts had to say about the approach of a large band of Gauls, "He's sticking to the agreement, then."
She heard the satisfaction in Caesar's voice, and strained again at the bonds holding her. If she could just remove herself until Verchinex had left the meeting, she would readily surrender herself back to the Romans afterwards to ensure her friends' safety. She resented being used as a form of coercion against a man she admired. Chains and wood resisted her efforts, yet again.
"I didn't doubt his honour," continued Caesar, "In fact I'm counting on it. However, some of the lesser chieftains might not have been so trustworthy." There was a slight pause as the Roman general thought for a moment, "The scouts have pressed past the approaching horde?" he questioned, "They've confirmed the position of the bulk of the Gaulish forces?"
"Yes sir," agreed the scout, "They've advanced no further than the agreed upon distance."
"Very well," Xena could hear the contentment in Caesar's voice, "We can expect our guests about a candlemark before midday. All officers to their posts. I want all in readiness for the arrival. We'll show these barbarians some imperial magnificence and let them know what Rome can offer them, one way or another," he finished darkly.
There was a rumble of angry mutters from around him. Arganath and Merrythn, two of the chiefs chosen to accomplish him growled their dislike at the situation before them, "It seems to me that this Caesar presumes too much," the more mature Hyman voiced his disapproval, "but there was no stipulation in the agreement about arriving early and, look you, the Romans have provided shade from the hot sun for the meeting."
Verchinex grinned at his old friend. Hyman was a wily old campaigner who had a droll sense of humour. In his own inimitable way he was trying to calm things down and let the others know that the Roman's had not broken faith so far. Verchinex turned back to his chief scout, "What of the VIIth Legion, Kerreth? Are the still camped beyond the agreed boundaries?"
"Aye," agreed the scout with a jerk of his head, "I've got six of my lads keeping a close eye on the bastards. If they move, we'll know long before we're caught in any real trouble.
The Gaulish chieftain turned his head back to the scene below him, "So the only thing we have to worry about is Caesar and his fine troopers down there?" He scratched at his beard considering the matter one last time, before making his decision, "Aye, well the chance of a peaceful harvest makes a powerful argument. I've no wish to see our people starve through the winter if words can fill their bellies."
He signalled to his men and they started down the hill in a long striding wave. The Gauls showed none of the Roman's discipline and moved however their feet took them. Individually, they were incredibly strong fighting men, but the Romans had the edge on them in that they fought with precision and direction, while the Gauls fought impetuously alone. That was why the Romans were pushing into their territory, but tradition and culture stopped the brave Gauls and other Celtic peoples from realizing the simple truth.
He lounged back indolently, resting his elbow on the chair's arm and cupping his chin in his palm .. the picture of bored aristocracy awaiting to hear a petition from peasants under his dominion.
The Warrior Princess felt the trickle of blood as it ran down her face from a small wound in her scalp, - They always bleed worse than they are, - she reminded herself and returned her concentration to the events about to take place in the outer area of the pavilion.
Verchinex, Hyman, Arganath and Merrythn walked like lions into Caesar's den. They ignored the finery, that was obviously there to impress them of Roman superiority, but the relaxed ease of the man who awaited them was not lost upon them. Here was a man who radiated power. A man who believed he had a destiny to fulfill. A dangerous man.
The dark Gaulish chieftain who had met and experienced Caesar's compelling aura before, watched the effect he had on his companions. The younger men, Arganath and Merrythn, he saw, were awed by the Roman noble. The power he projected left them feeling insignificant and unsure of themselves. A glance at Hyman, showed that the older man had recognised Caesar's arrogant assumption of mastery, but there was a hint in the man's eyes that he was impressed by what he saw.
Verchinex had known what to expect and had steeled himself against Caesar's presence. He was no captive awaiting execution now, he was master in his own lands and Caesar's equal in power ... whatever the Roman chose to believe, "You wanted this meeting," he stated gruffer than he had intended, "what have you got to say?"
Caesar smiled smugly, "I greet you ... gentlemen, in the name of Imperial Rome." the deliberate hesitation over the courtesy title had not been lost on the Gauls who shifted uneasily, showing a rising anger in their demeanours. Caesar considered them savages, just one step up from the brute beasts of the field. He was honouring them by even breathing the same air as them. It brought scowls from the Gauls. "Can I offer you refreshment?" he continued politely, "Some wine perhaps?"
"We have not come for wine, Caesar," Verchinex told him bluntly, remembering the last cup that the Roman had shared with him. "Your message spoke of a truce. I would know what you have in mind."
"Ah yes," Caesar nodded agreeably, the smile never leaving his face, "A man of action, as I remember." He picked up a parchment from the table in front of him. "This is a treaty aimed at guaranteeing the peace of this area for the next year." he informed them. "The basic terms are that neither Roman nor Gaul will seek to make incursions into the other's territory and that, to ensure it, a two league buffer zone should be established ... a no man's land if you like," he explained simply. He handed the paper to Verchinex.
"I would have my scribe look at this," the Gaul told him neutrally.
Caesar waved his hand in compliance, "Of course, I expected as much. Do you wish to summon him?"
Verchinex spoke a few quiet words to Merrythn who turned and trotted back to where Folko stood with the honour guard. Within moments, the merchant cum scribe had returned with the young chieftain and had moved to Verchinex's side to take the paper.
"It says that it's for a one year truce and the establishment of a buffer zone. Nothing else. It's straight forward and presented in clear language," Folko told them in their native tongue.
The dark Gaulish warrior turned his piercing gaze on Caesar, "Why would you offer this truce?" he questioned certain there had to be some trick, "I see no gain in it for you, although it gives us what we seek."
Caesar spread his hands deprecatingly and the smug quirk of his lips returned, "It suits my purposes."
Verchinex was not satisfied with the reply, "Unless I receive a reason that makes sense to me I will not trust you to keep the promise made on this paper," he said in a low threatening voice.
The good humour dropped from Caesar like a cloak, "Very well," he half growled, "I have business in Rome to attend to. I wouldn't want to leave here without knowing that we have a truce in place. Although I promise you that we can resume the usual hostilities when the truce ends." His eyes were fixed on the Gaulish chieftains, "Is that a strong enough reason for you?"
Verchinex studied Caesar for long moments. He was well aware that the Roman had an ongoing battle for power with Pompey and that a return to Rome would allow him to continue it. Dissent amongst the Romans was good for the rest of the world, "Aye," he agreed finally, "Your reason is good enough."
"Then will you sign the truce?" Caesar questioned intently.
"Let my scribe see the second copy and if there's no trickery to be found, we'll sign," agreed the Gaul. They had already decided to accept if the proposal was one they could live with. A year's peace gave them time to gather the harvest, which promised to be a good one this season, and prepare for a campaign the following year.
Folko looked through the second paper and nodded his assent to his chief. Verchinex and the others signed both copies before handing them to Caesar who signed and sealed them with the Imperial seal of Rome.
As the Gauls turned to leave, Caesar called out, "Verchinex, I have a private matter I would discuss with you before you leave."
The five men halted as one, turning back to face the Roman, "You may speak in front of my people," the chieftain told him coldly.
"I give you my word that this does not concern your people. Just you. It's a matter of honour," Caesar told him blandly.
"You cast doubt on my honour Roman?" growled Verchinex questioningly, real heat in his voice.
"Nothing of the sort," assured Caesar smoothly, "Of course if you doubt my honour when I give you my word that you will not be harmed or detained against your will ...." he left the rest unsaid.
Verchinex scowled and then motioned to his entourage to wait outside. Once they had left he turned his attention on his Roman enemy once more, "What is it you wish to say?" he demanded.
"Ah," smiled Caesar, "Actually I have something to show you, or rather I should say someone." He waved his hand in a signal and the central portion of the silk wall behind the Roman rose to reveal ten soldiers armed with batons, surrounding one woman chained and gagged Her body showed the evidence of many beatings, and there was fresh blood running down her cheek.
"Xena!" breathed Verchinex explosively.
At another wave of Caesar's hand, one of the guards stepped forward with an axe ready in his hands, "As you can see, Xena is now my property to do as I will with." He stood and walked over to the Warrior Princess and gently fingered the silver collar that hung around her throat, "You see this woman has been condemned three times by Roman justice for, let's see," he said ticking off the items on his fingers, "oh, yes, piracy, rebellion and off course attempted assassination. Enough to earn her a place on the cross, don't you think?" he asked.
"What do you want Caesar?" demanded Verchinex angrily, "You want me to swap myself for Xena? Well I'll do it. I owe this woman my life and for honour's sake I could do no less."
"Very noble, I'm sure, Verchinex, but no. I don't want, or need, your person. As far as Rome is concerned you're already dead. If you turned up alive once more I'd have some problematical questions to answer," Caesar told him.
"What do you want from me, then?" growled the Gaul angrily.
"I want your written agreement, and your word as a Gaulish chieftain, that you will never again fight against me or the Legions of Rome. That you will retire from the military scene. Go and raise crops and children. Become a man of peace," Caesar explained.
Verchinex took a long breath as his thoughts whirled around the subject, "If I agree to do so, Xena will be released?" he asked.
Caesar shook his head firmly, "No," he said, "the Warrior Princess would remain in my custody. Her crimes are too great to justify her release. However, unless you agree to my terms, I will promise you that she will be executed the moment you leave this tent." The soldier with the axe swung it up in readiness. Xena looked hard at Verchinex, blue eyes boring into brown. She could not influence his decision in anyway. Her head demanded that she let the Gaul know that he should refuse Caesar, but her heart held her in thrall as she remembered Gabrielle and her friends: If she died, they would die.
"What assurances do I have that you won't just execute her anyway once I have made your agreement?" the Gaul asked
"I'll give you my written word. I'll also agree that once Xena is dead, you are released from your side of the bargain. Will that satisfy you?" the Roman asked patiently.
As she watched Verchinex, she could see his decision form in his eyes. A look of sorrow and mute apology projected from her own as the great Gaulish warrior nodded his agreement, "Very well. For the debt I owe Xena you will have your promise." He turned his gaze full onto Caesar, "I think that this parley for truce was a rogues way of taking a far greater pledge. The trickery for this was not needed. You only had to send word of your price and I would have paid it."
Xena shook her head in resignation. The Gaul was a great and honourable man and she felt outraged that she had been the instrument to remove him from the leadership of his people. She could not thank him for her life, she could only nod her head to him in acceptance of the gift and make a silent promise to make Caesar pay for his actions. She watched until the lowered cloth obscured him from her vision.
Through sheer dint of willpower and an innate stubbornness, that had been fostered by her long association with a certain Warrior Princess, she pushed herself to her knees, and unsteadily made it to her feet. Taking deep breaths she commanded her tired, battered and aching limbs to obey her, before she staggered the few necessary steps away from the edge of the surf.
Clear of the sea water, Gabrielle tried to peer through the stormy deluge that was lashing the coast. If she had managed to make it safely to the beach, then she prayed, to any of the Gods who cared to listen, that Autolycus and Joxer had done so as well. The question was, where would they be?
The bard began to shiver again. She was cold, wet and exhausted. She couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction, and she was in enemy territory. And, just to make things even more interesting, she had no doubt, whatsoever, that as soon as he was able, Brutus would have hunting parties out looking for her. - If he had survived the storm! - her mind insisted. - What would Xena do? - she thought to herself picturing her strong determined friend at her side.
"Find somewhere to shelter, Gabrielle," she clearly heard the Warrior Princess tell her in her mind, "You can't do anything until the storm lessens, and if you don't get into the dry, you're going to come down with a fever." - Fine, - she decided, - Let's see if we can find a cave then, -
Decision made, she forced her protesting body to head towards the cliffs. If she was lucky, she'd be able to find a cave. If she was really lucky, there might be some dry driftwood in it that she could use to start a fire, always supposing she could find some flints, - Ah well, - she mused, - it's something to dream about. -
Stumbling along northwards in the lashing rain, she nearly missed the entrance to a small cave that was practically hidden behind a dense cluster of boulders. She squeezed in among the rocks and into the dark space beyond, feeling an almost instantaneous relief as she left the storm behind her.
Gabrielle could feel sand beneath her feet, but could see really very little of her shelter until a flash of lightning lit up the space revealing, for an instant, a cave not much more than ten foot square. She sank to her knees, and breathed deeply, trying to harness some of the reserves of energy that she hoped she still had.
As she knelt there, her instincts began to register a few details that were going to be important to her. Firstly the sand was dry and even partially warm, which was not too surprising as this was the middle of summer. Secondly, in the intermittent flashes of lightning, she could make out some piles of driftwood scattered around the edges of the cave, obviously deposited during the winter storms when much higher tides reached the base of the cliffs. Thirdly, she desperately needed a source of heat.
Coaxing her rebellious body into movement, she scouted around the cave to see if she could find anything that would help her get a fire started. Luck seemed to be with her when her questing hands found some unshaped natural stones that had the feel of being flint. She remembered Xena's patient lessons on how to start a fire. A half grin formed as she recalled how inept she had been when she first started to trail after the Warrior Princess .. she hadn't even been able to start a blaze then and the cold had finally forced her to approach Xena's camp. Since then, though, she had learnt much from her friend .. including how to get a fire started. She struck two together, testing them and her skill, and was able to produce a spark.
- So far, so good, - she told herself, trying to keep her spirits up.
Placing the flints she had found where she could easily re-locate them, she gathered together some of the dried wood that was scattered around the cave. The next part was going to be more difficult, however. Using her hands, she carefully examined her flints to find one with a sharp edge. She eventually selected the one most suited to the task she had in mind and, choosing a stick, she slowly began to shave slivers off to produce some fine tinder.
"I hope this works," she muttered to herself when she finally judged she had enough to make the attempt.
Taking two more of the flints she cracked them together close to the tinder. A spark leapt and she held her breath as she hoped it would catch and fire, but it died before gaining a hold on the tinder. Drawing a deep breath, Gabrielle told herself firmly, - You can do this .. focus! - and continued to strike the flints, knowing that she desperately needed to get this fire started, - I can't go running to Xena this time, - she thought miserably.
Finally, after too many attempts to number, she succeeded and she gently blew on the glow that began to flicker in the fine shreds of wood. As the flames became stronger, she began to feed in larger pieces, just twigs to start with, but as the flames increased in size and strength, she was able to add further, larger pieces of wood, until she had a respectable fire going.
Gabrielle huddled over the warmth protectively, allowing the heat to soak into her cold body, revelling in just how good it felt. Eventually, she pulled herself away from the flames and began to strip her sodden clothing off, she wrung the excess water out of them and laid her skirt and top and undergarments on the opposite side of the fire as she curled up in front of the warmth and allowed her eyes to drift closed.
- Well, sitting here isn't going to help matters, - he told himself sternly, - with any luck, Gabrielle will have found some shelter to hole up in. If she stays put I might be able to find her. The question is which way should I go? -
A flash of lightning suddenly showed the bireme in stark relief as it somehow slid through a gap in the reef and was pushed into the bay, - Well, that settles it, - decided the thief quickly, - I'll head north away from the ship and Brutus, hopefully I'll find the others before he does ... if they survived. -
Moving towards the cliffs, he stumbled along, trying to ignore his exhaustion in the need to remove himself from the all too close proximity of the Roman and his troops. Having managed once to get free from Brutus, he was in no hurry to hand himself back to him.
It was hard going. He was cold and tired, and the storm made it difficult to see far. The only good things about the situation were that the Romans would find it almost impossible to search for them, at least until the storm abated, and that being summer the tide, even driven by the storm, didn't reach the cliffs. He was also fairly certain that the rain would wash out any tracks he left in the soft sand.
The brief flashes of illumination that the lightning provided, helped him gauge what was before him, but it also tended to leave his vision impaired in the after glow of the violent light. However, it was during one of those brief flashes that he spotted what appeared to be a body, laying at the surf's edge.
Shaking his head, to clear his eyesight, Autolycus stumbled down the beach once more and found an unconscious Joxer, laying half drowned with blood running freely from a scalp wound where he had hit his head, "Well at least that won't have caused any permanent damage," muttered the thief to himself. It was not a charitable thought, but it did afford him some relief from the worry he'd been feeling, for if Joxer made it to shore, albeit a bit battered, then it was good odds that Gabrielle would be found also.
He gently patted Joxer's cheeks with his good right hand. With his broken arm, he'd never be able to carry the wannabe warrior. He was going to need some kind of assistance if he was going to be able to get his companion off the beach, "C'mon Joxer," he encouraged as the other man's eyes began to flicker, "C'mon, we've got to find Gabrielle," he prodded.
"G ... Gab ... Gabby," Joxer slurred dazedly. The crack on his head was obviously a bad one.
"Can you stand if I help?" asked Autolycus carefully.
"Gab," the injured man rasped as he tried to make his eyes focus and his body work, "Where's G..Gab?"
Autolycus used his good arm to pull Joxer to his feet, where he staggered unsteadily and would have fallen back into the surf if the thief hadn't managed to loop one of his friend's arms over his shoulder and get his right arm around his waist, "C'mon Jox, help me out here," he grunted softly, "move your feet and let's get moving."
It was a struggle as they teetered precariously back to the scant shelter of the cliffs and, once there, continued north away from Brutus and his men. Autolycus hoped that they'd find the bard, and that she wasn't too hurt. He needed her assistance with Joxer, knowing that she knew far more about healing than he did, having learnt from Xena. He also wanted her to look at his wrist that was throbbing with undiluted pain. What he didn't want to do was admit to himself that he was worried about the golden haired bard .. it was far easier to concentrate on finding her for the help she could give him and Joxer.
They moved slowly with Autolycus encouraging his confused and disorientated friend every step of the way. If he could, he'd have found a way off the beach and up into the countryside above; he felt too exposed here, knowing that Brutus could be just a step behind him. - Well genius, - he goaded himself, - worrying about it won't do us any good. Besides, if Gabrielle's on this beach and we're up on the cliff we're gonna miss her. -
He plodded heavily on, half supporting, half dragging, Joxer with him, exhaustion hampering his every movement. The storm continued to whip viciously around them, and in some way he was grateful for the closeness of Joxer's body because that was the only warm patch on his whole frame. - We need to get out of this rain ... and soon. - he told himself.
Lightning cracked overhead once more, half blinding him in the sudden brightness that left vivid jags of light before his eyes. It was almost enough to make him miss the soft glow that radiated around the edge of a tumble of rocks. Autolycus stopped and shook his head blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision. The glow remained constant, and he pulled his stumbling burden towards it, desperately hoping that not only would he find shelter, but Gabrielle as well.
With excessive difficulty, he scrambled over the storm slick boulders and was guided to the tight opening of the cave by the light he could see. Maneuvering Joxer so that they could both squeeze through the jagged hole, and into the beckoning warmth, was a trial, but he succeeded after expending a great deal of his failing reserves of strength. He stumbled to a swaying halt just inside, seeing the gently glowing fire and a fully naked Gabrielle stretched out beside it.
"Well," he smirked appreciatively, "Now there's a sight for sore eyes!"
Autolycus hauled Joxer deeper into the cave and sat him down close to the fire, which was in need of more fuel before it died. He gathered some of the bone dry driftwood from around the cave, wincing as he did so, and carefully tended to the fire making sure that it was burning well before deciding what to do next.
Seeing Gabrielle's clothes where they had been put to dry, he knelt down and touched them. They were a little damp, but had dried out enough to suggest that the bard had been here some time. He turned them over to help them dry evenly, before turning back to Joxer and stripping off his clothes. The 'wanna-be' warrior needed to dry off as well if they didn't want further complications setting in to go with his head injury. He did decide, however, to leave the man's underpants on. Gabrielle was going to have enough problems when she woke up without seeing a pair of naked men to match her own state of undress.
Having seen to Joxer, Autolycus piled together more of the driftwood and sorting out the most likely looking pieces for a splint. With that done, he allowed his mind to focus on the nagging worry of the glow from the fire attracting more attention. They needed the fire for it's warmth, they didn't want it to give away their hiding place. He went and studied the small opening. If he could just find something to block the hole with, it might just serve to hide them from the outside world. Sighing he looked distastefully at his sodden clothing, and, glaring at the storm tossed night outside of the warm cave, he made a decision.
Wrinkling his nose, he squeezed himself back through the hole and searched around the area for the item he wanted. It took a while, but he eventually located a scraggy bush that clung tenaciously to the side of the cliff. He fought long and hard with it, before it eventually gave up the struggle and he found himself dumped onto the wet sand as it's resistance gave.
Biting back a half hearted curse for the pain that lanced through his wrist, the thief, clutching his prize, made his way back to the safe haven of the cave, drawn on by the thought of the warmth that awaited him there. Once he reached the spot, he tried positioning the bush over the hole and seeing the effect it had on diffusing the glow. It didn't totally mask the soft light, but Autolycus figured that if he drew it into the hole after him, he might just be able to cut out all of the tell tale signs of the fire.
Satisfied that it was the best he could do, the thief pulled the bush out of the cave mouth and then backed himself in, pulling the greenery after him until it was wedged tightly. Smiling to himself he straightened up, only to feel a stunning blow to the back of his head that dumped him to the sandy floor with a sudden dizziness that was accompanied by bright stars.
"Autolycus," yelped Gabrielle as she dropped the large branch she was holding and sank to her knees beside the thief, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you ... I just heard this noise as I woke up and ... and I thought it was Brutus and his men."
"Okay, okay," he grumbled rubbing his sore head with his good hand, "It was an accident ... I should have told you I was coming back, but I didn't want to wake you up."
"Wake me up?" questioned the bard in confusion, and suddenly reddening as she became aware of her state of undress, "Ah, what do you mean, coming back?"
"Well," began Autolycus, starting to stand and turn around, "I brought Joxer in here a little while ago when I saw the glow of the fi ...."
"Hold it right there!" Gabrielle squeaked arresting the thief's movement, "You've already been ... you were in here ... you saw me ..."
"Relax Gabrielle," he tried to reassure her, "Joxer's passed out over in the corner, and I've seen plenty of ... ah, unclothed females before."
"Not this unclothed female, you haven't!" she gritted out, "Just stay facing the entrance until I can get my clothes on."
"They're still damp, Gabrielle," he told her politely, "and you really have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Autolycus!" she yelped again, shocked at what she was hearing. "Just do what I asked," demanded the embarrassed bard as she shrugged back into her clothes which, although a little damp, were not really too bad. - Better than being naked anyway, - she decided. When she had finished dressing she told the thief, "All right you can turn around now."
"Great," he muttered and began to strip off his own soaking wet clothes.
"Erm, Autolycus?" she asked tentatively.
"What, Gabrielle?" he demanded more sharply than he intended as a ripping pain stabbed through his injured arm.
"How far ... I mean, just how much ... err?" struggled the bard defensively.
"Oh c'mon, Gabrielle. I need to get out of these wet clothes before I come down with something nasty. Don't worry, I'll keep my underwear on, and I promise to do nothing to compromise your virtue." the thief told her testily while thinking, - Not that I'm not tempted, but the thought of what Xena would do to me kind of puts a dampener on the idea. Besides, the kids alright, but she not a patch on the Warrior Princess. -
"Autolycus, why are you grinning?" asked Gabrielle as she crossed towards where Joxer lay unmoving.
The grin instantly disappeared and he side stepped the question by asking one of his own, "How's he doing?"
The bard checked the unconscious man's pulse and lifted his eyelid, before laying a hand on his forehead, "His pulse and breathing seem okay," she reported, "That crack on his head has probably given him a concussion, his eyes are a bit dilated," she explained, "and he could be coming down with a chill." She sighed, "There's nothing to give him, all we can do is make sure he stays as warm as possible and hope for the best."
"Gabrielle," the thief said quietly, "has Xena taught you anything about broken bones?"
She turned back to look at Autolycus, who was cradling his left arm carefully. The bard saw immediately the darkening skin and the slightly odd angle of the lower arm. The one good thing was that it hadn't swollen much yet, "Why didn't you say something before?" she demanded, worried about the thief.
"There was a lot of things to be sorted out before I could get around to it," he answered almost with embarrassment, "Joxer needed seeing to and the cave mouth needed to be hidden ...."
"Okay, I get the message," sighed the bard as she scooted across to look at the arm, "Did anyone ever tell you that you're a good man, Autolycus?"
"Don't start that again, Gabrielle," the thief replied beginning to go red around the neck.
"Alright," she agreed, "I won't, but you are," she added softly and almost laughed as he scowled at her. Looks aimed at intimidating didn't really effect her now, she'd studied the worlds finest intimidator and nearly everything and everyone else paled into insignificance beside her friend. "Look," she explained, "we haven't got any bandages, so I'm going to have to rip some off your shirt. Then I'm going to need some splints."
Autolycus nodded to the small pile of suitable wood that he'd previously sorted out, "You should find what you need there," he told her.
"Great," she agreed with a pleased nod as she turned her attention to the soaking wet shirt. "If I take the sleeves off this I can use it to hold the splints in place."
"Fine, Gabrielle. You know what you're doing." He paused for a moment as he watched her, "You do know what you're doing, don't you?"
"Of course," the bard replied with all the confidence she could muster, "At least I know all the theory behind it. I've watched and helped Xena do this dozens of times, so I'm sure that everything will work out okay. Besides I fixed your other arm that time with the Amazons," she reminded him, "although that was an easier break to deal with."
"Oh yeah," muttered the thief, "I get to be a guinea pig."
Once Gabrielle had finished her preparations, managing to rip the shirt sleeves into the desired pieces, and having selected the wood for the splints, she turned her attention to her patient's arm, "Now this is going to hurt a bit," she explained, "I'm going to have to pull the bone into the correct line, otherwise it will heal crooked and you might lose some of the use."
"Fine, Gabrielle," gritted out Autolycus, "Just do what you have to do."
"Ready?" she asked as she took his hand wrist to wrist. When he nodded his assent, she pulled on the arm, listening and feeling for the click that would tell her that the bone was back in the right place.
"Got it!" she said at last as she glanced at her friend's face and saw the beads of perspiration standing out from his brow, the look of agony in his eyes and along his tightly clamped jaw, "We're nearly finished," the bard encouraged, "just bear with me while I get this splint on."
She worked quickly, making sure that the injured arm was well supported and wrapped, finally tying the last knot to complete her handiwork, "That's it," she told him. "Why don't you get some rest. You look exhausted." She saw that he was about to protest, but she quickly jumped in, "I've already slept. I'll stay awake and keep watch and make sure that the fire doesn't die on us. Besides I need to bandage Joxer's head."
Seeing the sense in what she was saying, Autolycus reluctantly agreed, laying down in the warm sand close to the fire. Before he drifted off however, he remembered to warn the bard about the Romans, "Be careful, Gabrielle. I saw the ship slip through the reef before I found Joxer. I think it's fairly safe to assume that Brutus survived and that he'll be looking for us. If you hear anything, anything at all, douse the fire and wake me."
Gabrielle swallowed hard and put her hand to the collar at her throat, "Okay Autolycus, she agreed. "Get some sleep and then we'll figure out what we should do next when your rested."
As the King of Thieves drifted off into an exhausted, dreamless, sleep, Gabrielle worked on dressing Joxer's wounded head. She wished that she had some fresh water to clean it, but she thought that the washing in salt sea water would have probably ensured that it would remain free from infection. She tore the sleeves out of Joxer's nearly dry shirt and used one to carefully wrap a dressing, of sorts around his injury.
With her task completed, she put some more wood on the fire and arranged the men's clothing so that it got a chance to dry. Joxer's leather trousers and jacket looked a little worse for their ducking in the sea, but they'd still be an improvement on his normal choice of clothing.
Having finished that, she turned her attention to gathering all of the wood, scattered around the cave, into one easily accessible pile. It was while she was doing this that she uncovered a stout pole. It was a bit too short and a little thicker than she was comfortable with and would need some of the outgrowths of twigs to be removed, but it would serve as a staff and it made her feel better that she was no longer completely defenceless.
With nothing else to occupy her, she turned her attention to trying to compose this latest adventure into story form. Her heart wasn't really in it though, and she had no ink or parchment to record her ideas anyway. Inevitably, her thoughts drifted to Xena and as she wondered where her best friend was, and what was happening to her, slowly drifted into the realms of Morpheus and his brothers.
It was late the following morning before she struggled to force her eyes open. A quick glance around told her that everything was as she had last seen it in the small cave, although the fire had burnt down to softly glowing embers. The cave, however, remained toasty warm and it was only the work of a few minutes to coax the embers back into a decent fire.
Her stomach rumbled loudly. - That's going to be a problem, - she conceded to herself. She licked her lips and tasted the salt tang of the sea there, - And we're going to need some water pretty soon. -
She climbed stiffly to her feet and went across to the cave entrance to see if she could get any idea of what the weather was doing outside, and whether or not the Romans were out there searching for them.
She listened carefully, forcing herself to be patient, attempting to hone her sense of hearing as Xena had tried to teach her. She screened out the sound of the waves and the noise of the sea birds as they wheeled in the sky, - At least that means the storm's cleared, - her mind told her, and concentrated on listening for the sounds of men or a search.
Hearing nothing suspicious, she risked pushing the covering bush aside, so that she could gently poke her head out of the cave and around the sheltering boulders. - Still nothing, - she told herself.
Risking a little more, she edged out further, so that she could scan the beach, both north and south, to check in case anyone was searching. She saw nothing except a beautiful golden day, and empty sands. With a long squint down to the south, she could just about make out the remains of the bireme against the camouflaging background of the headland, but there seemed to be no activity there.
Drawing back into the cave, she made certain that the bush was replaced and tried to decide what they should do. She knew that they couldn't remain in the cave indefinitely; they needed food, water and essential supplies like a medical kit and, for her some ink and scrolls, she felt undressed without them.
She crossed the cave to where Autolycus lay, and gently shook his shoulder, "Hey," the bard said, "time to wake up, Autolycus."
Reluctantly the sleep filled eyes opened and slowly focused on the wildly unkempt bard. He smiled gently and murmured, "Now there's a sight for sore eyes."
"Feeling better?" she asked, checking his head to see if he showed any signs of a temperature or chill.
"Well I couldn't have felt any worse," he replied, "could I?"
"Actually ...." the bard began.
"Yeah, I know," butted in the thief quickly, "after yesterday we're lucky that we're not all down with a fever. How's Joxer?" he asked as he stood stiffly and began to pull on his discarded clothes.
"I was just about to check on him," the bard told the thief with a smile. She knelt next to the wannabe warrior and gently felt his cheek, trying to judge his temperature. He was a little warm, which suggested he might be coming down with a cold, but she didn't think that it would be incapacitating.
As she touched his skin, Joxer's eyes fluttered open and a grin split his trusting, if rather foolish, face, "Gabby!" he said enthusiastically, "We're alive!" he winced as a dull hammering registered on his brain, and he put his hand up to feel the makeshift bandage there, "I think," he amended more softly.
Gabrielle looked into Joxer's eyes, trying to judge if the pupils were acting abnormally, but as far as she could tell everything seemed fine. She patted him on his bare shoulder and said with a grin, "You're alive and well, Joxer ... well near enough anyway."
It suddenly registered in Joxer's mind that the bard's hand had touched his bare skin. His face flared a violent shade of red, as he realized that he was almost naked, "Uh, Gabby, turn around," he said nervously as he tried to use his arms to cover some of his bare flesh.
"Oh, c'mon Joxer!" the bard threw her hands up in disbelief, "It's not as though you're totally naked, is it?"
"That's not the point. You shouldn't ... I mean it's not right ... Oh C'mon Gabrielle! Just turn around and give me my clothes," he demanded crimson with embarrassment.
"You're being inconsistent, Gabrielle," butted in Autolycus as he gathered up the other man's clothes and threw them at him, "Here hero," he said snidely, before turning back to the bard, "As I remember you weren't ...."
"Don't you go there, Autolycus," the bard threatened, "it was entirely different and you know it," she accompanied that with one of those 'looks' that she had learned off Xena and the thief was forced to smother a smile.
Joxer quickly shrugged into his dry clothes, but as he pulled his shirt on he exclaimed, "Hey, where'd my sleeves go?!"
"I needed something to bandage your head with," explained Gabrielle, "It was the best thing for the job."
"Oh, right," he replied, slightly mollified. He pulled on his leather jacket and a smile slid across his face, "You know, Gabby, I've just remembered this really neat dream I had."
"What was that, Joxer," she asked absently.
"Well I was laying in this cave, just like just now, only you were laying on the other side of the fire butt na ...."
"Joxer!" the bard whirled on him furiously, crimson staining her cheeks, "I don't want to know that ... and ... and you just better forget it too! Or else." She turned on Autolycus, marched up to him and glaring directly into his eyes, hissed, "Not one word from you," she said punctuating it with a heavy finger to the chest, "Don't even think about discussing his 'dream' with him, or you'll end up with some more broken bones to go with the one you've already got. Is that clear," she jabbed at him with her finger again, noting the thief's wince.
"As crystal," he answered, "But I still say you've got nothing to be ashamed of," he muttered as she turned away. Gabrielle elected to ignore that.
"Look," she started as they all finished re-arranging their attire, "We can't stay holed up here indefinitely," her stomach rumbled loudly once more. She looked at it when she saw her friends doing the same, "That's one reason," she admitted, "another is that we need water, and then we're going to need some other things if we're going to have any hope of keeping clear of the Romans."
"I can't fault her logic so far," the thief grinned at Joxer.
Gabrielle frowned at the interruption, "Anyway," she continued, "I checked on what's happening outside while you two beauties were asleep ..." a vague look came across her face as the phrase sprung something in her bardic muse, "Hey there's a story in there somewhere," she muttered, before shaking her head and returning to business, "The thing is, at the moment it doesn't look like any of the Romans have got off the ship to start looking for us. They may just be too exhausted from the storm, or banged up or perhaps too many of them got washed overboard, but the point is we should use this time to get ourselves off the beach so we can lose them in the countryside."
"She sure talks a good idea," put in Autolycus with a grin, "I wonder if she does that with Xena?"
"Sure, talking's what Gabby does best," smirked back Joxer.
"Uh, guys. Hello," she said waving her hands in front of their eyes, "C'mon fellas, we've gotta work this thing out."
"Oh, I think you've got the right idea Gabrielle," agreed Autolycus mildly. "We've just got one problem."
She looked at him with a question in her green eyes, "What's that?"
The thief reached out and fingered the collar at her neck, "This little problem here. If anyone gets a look at that it's going to draw attention, it's not your average slave collar," he explained, "And if it draws attention and someone gets a look at that inscription, then we're in big trouble."
"Oh!" she murmured unhappily, "I kind of think that's what Caesar had in mind," she admitted. "Is there any way you can get it off?"
"Gabrielle, I'm probably the best thief in the world ... what am I saying!" he said slapping his forehead in mock disgust, "I am the best thief in the world. I can pick any lock given the tools and the time. Unfortunately, this collar hasn't got a lock and," he inspected the metal carefully, "even with good blacksmith tools, I don't think I could get this off. I've seen this type of metal once or twice before. It comes from some ore taken from rocks that sometimes drop out of the sky. It's the hardest metal I know, it's difficult to work and costs a fortune to buy. Even the rivet is made from the stuff. About the only hope we've got of getting this off you is for Hercules to break it off." He thought about it for a moment, "You didn't happen to send him a letter as well did you?"
"No," said the bard unhappily, "So I'm stuck with it, huh?"
"'Fraid so," admitted the thief equally unhappily.
"Could we disguise it?" suggested Joxer. Both of the others turned to look at him, "Erm, I mean if we could wrap what's left of my shirt sleeve around it ... ah, maybe we could make it look like some kind of necklace ... or not," he finished hesitantly.
"Joxer that could be it," muttered Autolycus.
"Joxer that might just be a brilliant idea," agreed Gabrielle at the same time.
"Aw, it was nothing," smirked the pleased man, "You know, just something we great warrior types have to come up with at difficult times like these. Ya see ..." he started to wax lyrical about his gifts.
"Alright Joxer, we haven't got time for all that now," the bard interrupted him. "Here give me a hand doing this. I'd ask Autolycus, but his broken arm would hamper him."
They spent some time carefully folding and wrapping the black cloth from Joxer's shirt sleeve, and winding it around the collar, hiding the knot behind her hair, "What do you think?" she asked the thief when they'd finished.
"Mmm!" he said waggling his hand from side to side, "It covers the metal, but it looks like a disguised slave collar. It needs something else," he glanced down at the remains of the green material from his shirt sleeves, "Try using some of that to over-wrap the black. The green should match your top and make the thing look more like an ornament than it is at the moment."
Joxer spent some more time on carefully wrapping the green cloth around the collar. By the time he'd finished there was definite improvement, with the collar no longer looking quite as suspicious, and rather attractive in black and green stripes.
"You know, that just might work," admitted Autolycus, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "It's far better than it was anyway," he conceded.
"Well then," smiled the bard, pleased with the outcome, "Let's get going shall we, before the whole of the beach starts to crawl with Romans."
She grabbed her newly acquired staff, and headed for the cave entrance, only to be stopped by the thief, "Let me go first, Gabrielle," he replied to her impatient frown, "I 'sneak' better than you do."
The bard nodded her agreement, and waited impatiently as Autolycus worked his way cautiously out of the cave opening. She heard a cough beside her, "Umm, Gabby?" came Joxer's questioning opening.
"What Joxer?" she asked while trying to keep an eye on the thief for any signs of trouble.
"Umm, well as I'm the warrior here, shouldn't ..."
"No!" snarled Gabrielle, interrupting him.
"You never let me finish," he complained.
"The answer would still be no, Joxer. You don't know how to use a staff well ... I do." she told him firmly.
"But Gabby ...." whined her companion.
"Will you two hold it down," hissed Autolycus over his shoulder, "Geez, it's like babysitting a couple of kids."
Both of them shot him venomous glances, then looking at each other with mutual understanding, turned back to the thief to poke out their tongues and cross their eyes at him, before bursting into a fit of giggles.
"I'll never understand how Xena puts up with them," muttered the thief under his breath, "C'mon," he instructed, "The coast is clear. Lets head north and keep close to the cliff wall. As soon as we can find a way up, we'll take it."
Climbing the gully had proven to be tiresomely difficult. Autolycus was hampered by his broken arm, while Joxer was suffering from the occasional bout of giddiness, caused by the bang he had taken to his head during the swim to shore. Gabrielle was the only really fit one, and even she was tired, thirsty and very hungry. However, being the only one armed and in any condition to scamper around, she took on the duties of scout and checked out the way before them.
It was a long haul, but they finally reached the top of the climb, without any major accidents, "Wait here," instructed the bard, "while I go and check on the lie of the land."
"Don't take any chances, Gabrielle," warned Autolycus.
She flashed him a quick grin, "I won't, just keep out of sight until I get back."
She wasn't gone long and she came back with a grim look on her face, "It's no wonder that we couldn't see the soldiers on the beach," she explained in hurried whispers, "they're searching the cliffs to the south of us. I don't think they've got this far north yet, so we're going to have to make a dash for the woods further along the cliff, and then make our way through there. Just pray to your favourite God that they don't spot us before we get under cover," she told them.
Nodding their agreement, the two men followed the little bard out of the gully, and angled towards the north where an extensive forest lay. They made as much use of the available cover as possible, keeping low and clinging to bushes and the odd tree on their route. They almost made it without any trouble, but just as they made the dash across the last clear piece of ground, they heard a shout from behind them and knew that they had been spotted.
Iolaus and Toris had made good time in getting from Lugdunum to Massilia. They maintained their disguises, keeping their beards and making sure that their hair was consistently coloured. No one gave them a second look. They were nothing like the pair of men being diligently searched for by the legionaries. Once they had reached Massilia, they had decided to take their horses to a trader. They were going to need money for a ship's passage and their funds were not plentiful, besides which they had no further use for the animals.
"How good are you at trading?" the small man asked Toris as they walked through the streets.
Toris shrugged., "As good as the next man, I suppose," he answered.
"Well then," smiled Iolaus happily, "you better leave me to do this. I'm a pretty fair hand at it and we're going to need as much as we can get for these two animals of ours."
Toris glanced over his shoulder at his mud flecked sweaty horse, "I'd suggest that we clean them up a bit before we try to sell them. We'll get more if they don't look like they've spent almost a moon of hard road travelling."
His smaller companion, looked back at his own gelding and stopped momentarily to pat the beasts neck, "You're right. A good wash down and some time spent with a curry comb should increase their value by as much as thirty dinars. He looked over at Toris with a smile, "Hey, I thought Amphipolis was sheep country, since when do sheep herders know anything about horse trading?"
"We breed sheep," grinned Toris dryly, "We don't advocate cultivating the brains of them ... we leave that to the city boys of Corinth."
"Ha, ha! Very funny," responded Iolaus with good humour, "Have you got any idea just how much like your sister you are?"
"What did you expect?" retorted Toris, pulling his horse along at a walk as he realized that they were attracting attention standing still in the busy street, "Who do you think taught her all she knows?"
That had the smaller man spluttering and choking as he tried to find a suitable reply to the offhand remark. Finally he managed, "Oh, I just can't wait to tell her that one," he smirked as he caught up to Toris, "It's going to be great to see her reaction to that," he laughed.
More soberly Toris added quietly, "I'll just be happy to see her. Safe, well and away ... from where she is," he added cautiously.
Iolaus nodded his approval of the sentiment and the careful wording of it. It seemed, at last, that Toris was beginning to guard his tongue and passions. It would help keep them out of trouble if they didn't have to worry every moment about what someone might overhear them say.
They found their way to a stable and paid the owner a couple of dinar's for the use of his facilities and another five for some oats for their tired horses. They then spent the next two candlemarks cleaning up the animals, and curry combing them until their coats shone in the warmth of the early afternoon sun.
"That's about as good as we're going to get them," grinned Iolaus after he dunked his head in the horse trough to wash off the sweat he had worked up and cool himself down. He shook his long curls to get rid of some of the excess water, before pulling his patchwork vest back on, "We'd better go and find ourselves a horse trader, so we can set about getting a passage to Rome."
"The stableman says that there's a dealer about four blocks over. He also said that he's a fair man, not like some of the others in the city," Toris told him, "I've sold the stableman, here, the tack. He said it looked fair quality and he needed some for clients who want to hire his horses. He gave me sixty dinars, which is pretty fair for their condition and the fact that they're used goods."
"Well at least it's some towards our fare. Now if this trader's as good as you've been told, we should make enough from the horses and some to spare," grinned Iolaus. "What's the name of this trader?" he asked.
"Calumnus," answered Toris, "If you're ready, we might as well get over to him."
The pair led their mounts, using some old rope halters supplied by the friendly stable owner, and soon found Calumnus's place of trade. While the shorter man got down to the business of selling the animals, Toris cornered a young man and engaged him in some careful conversation.
"My friend and I have to catch a ship, and we were advised that you were a fair man to deal with," began Iolaus.
"Aye, well most people would say so," agreed Calumnus amicably.
"What's you top offer for these two horses," encouraged the short man, "they're good animals and you can see that they're in good condition."
"Weeell," answered the horse trader sucking his teeth as he looked at the pair of geldings, "I might go as high as seventy five dinars for the pair."
"You've got to be kidding!" returned Iolaus, happily getting into the routine of offer and counter-offer, "we got almost that for the tack we sold. Now seventy-five dinar's each would be a fair price."
"I don't know where you come from, son, but the horses there must be worth their weight in gold if you think that these two would get you anywhere near that amount," he stroked his chin consideringly, "I'll give you eighty-five dinar's for the pair."
"Calumnus," retorted Iolaus in well acted disbelief, "I was told that you were a fair man. You know that these two animals are worth at least one Hundred and forty dinars as a pair."
Toris half smiled to himself as listened with half an ear to the bargaining while he engaged the apprentice horse trader in conversation, "Have you been with Calumnus long?" he asked, more as a way of opening conversation than in any real interest.
"Only about a moon or so," grinned the lad, "My Da knows Calumnus and arranged an apprenticeship with him for me. Up until then I lived on a farm outside of the city. It's cleaner there, but not as much fun." He glanced over at his boss and Iolaus, "You're friend's pretty good at this."
Toris gave him a quick smile, "He enjoys a challenge," he agreed. "Being new in town, I bet you've seen some things that you didn't on the farm."
"Oh yeah. The city's so full of people and so busy, there's always things going on, and there's so many soldiers about. I kinda wish that Da had let me join the Legions, but he didn't want any son of his being a soldier, so I guess I'll just have to settle for being a horse trader," he scuffed at the dirt beneath his feet.
"I heard that there was a unit of the VIIth in the city," mentioned Toris casually, hoping that the youngster, with his interest in the military, would have noticed something.
"Too right," agreed the lad. "The seventh are about the best fighting force around. They're Caesar's own, and crack troops to boot. I saw that maniple come into town and they'd got three prisoners with them. They kept the public well away from them, so I guess that they must be pretty important, but they didn't look like any of those Gauls and one of them was just a girl ... though she must have been ill 'cause she was being carried on a litter."
Toris tried to suppress his concern as he heard about there being three prisoners, he calmed himself and asked as casually as he could manage, "What made you think that they weren't Gauls?"
"Oh, just that they looked too well dressed. One of them looked like he was quite a dandy. The other one was dressed in leathers, you know like maybe a fighter, but he didn't look like any fighter I've ever seen before," answered the youth.
- Damn! - swore Toris to himself. - It can't be anyone else. How in Tartarus did Brutus manage to get his hands on them, I thought that Autolycus was far too canny for that! -
He looked up as he heard Calumnus and Iolaus spit on their hands and clap them together to seal the deal. The shorter man went off with the horse trader to get the money they'd agreed upon, while the young apprentice led the horses away, leaving Toris to sit in gloomy silence.
"Hey did you see that," laughed Iolaus when he reappeared, clapping his companion on the shoulder, "Guess I haven't lost my touch. We got one hundred and twenty dinars for the pair, and what with your sixty and the loose money we've got kicking around, we should have enough dinars for the passage and some to spare for once we get to Rome." While he was talking, the short man suddenly became aware of Toris's moody silence, "What's the matter?" he questioned quietly.
His companion refused to answer until Calumbrus had returned with their money and bid them a cheery 'Good-day', then Toris stood and pulled Iolaus along in his wake, out of the traders yard, until he could find a quiet spot to speak where he was sure that they wouldn't be overheard. They settled for a dark, dank alleyway that smelled as if it doubled as a cess pit, where Iolaus's impatience finally got the better of him and he demanded, "What's up Toris?"
Xena's brother looked at him, his blue eyes showing worry and uncertainty, - A combination not usually found in his sister, - Iolaus noted as he waited for his companion to speak.
"That apprentice I was speaking to," Toris began and waited as his friend nodded his head for him to continue. "Well, from what he's just said, it looks like Brutus managed to pick up Autolycus and Joxer."
"Gods in Olympus!" swore Iolaus in frustration. "Is he sure ... I mean are you sure ... I mean, " he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, "I don't know what I mean. Just tell me what the boy said."
Toris explained tersely how he'd questioned the lad, and just what he'd said about the two men prisoners he'd seen, as well as Gabrielle being carried on a litter, "Damn!" swore the smaller man emphatically, "It certainly sounds like a description of Autolycus, so the other one has to be Joxer." He banged his fist on the wall angrily, "I swear I'll rip Brutus' heart out if he's hurt Gabrielle in any way."
"We're not going to do a lot of good standing around here," put in Toris moodily. "We better get down to the docks and see if we can get a passage for Rome."
"You know, Autolycus and Joxer getting captured, might have been part of the thief's plans. You know, work at getting Gabrielle out from the inside. I might not always appreciate The King of Thieves, but I guess I should admit that I've never seen a lock he can't take," Iolaus muttered trying to convince himself that things would be alright.
"C'mon, Iolaus," encouraged Toris, feeling a need to be doing something, anything to work towards getting Xena free, "Let's get down to the docks and find a ship, huh?" he suggested, "We might be able to find out down there when Brutus and the others left."
Iolaus considered the suggestion for a moment, "You're right," he agreed, "I'd like to know just how far behind them we are, anyway."
Iolaus fumed quietly, while Toris was a deal more vocal about it, "We're already nine days behind them," he snarled as he paced around in the small cabin that he and his companion were sharing for the voyage, "And what about those rumours about that storm? They could have been caught in it and gone down without a trace."
The thought really worried the tall man. He knew that it would free Xena from the responsibility of worrying about the bard in the hands of Caesar, but he realised that his sister would be very badly effected by the loss of her closest friend. He wasn't too sure what, exactly, it would do to her, but he was sure it wouldn't be pretty. He kicked impotently at the bunk Iolaus was sitting on.
"Hey!" snapped his friend and, when Toris didn't respond he said again, "Hey?"
"What?" snarled Toris angrily.
"Just calm down, alright?" soothed Iolaus using his hands to emphasise his words, "There's nothing we can do until we get to Rome. We can't just go tearing ourselves up over what might happen, or might have happened. Right?" He stood and gripped Toris's right shoulder, "Right?" he repeated.
"Right," agreed his friend reluctantly, sinking onto the bunk that he'd claimed.
Iolaus sat down once more and forced himself into calmness. He was far more worried than he'd let on to Toris. His brief show of emotion in the alleyway had been quickly buried under the steely resolve to get them out of Massilia to a place where they could be of use to somebody. The trouble was, the whole time, a face framed by honey blonde hair, with green eyes and an impish smile, kept forcing it's way into his thoughts as he worried what might have been wrong with her and if she was still safe.
His concerns had been slightly mollified when he'd managed to get the information about when Brutus's ship had sailed. The person he'd questioned remembered seeing Gabrielle and the other two, standing on the docks surrounded by soldiers, "Pretty young thing," the old man had said, "Can't understand why a slave like her was surrounded by such a strong guard though. Had everyone talking for days, that did."
Well at least he knew she was well when she had left Massilia. He'd felt his heart lighten at that news. He wasn't sure how he'd let the young bard get so under his skin. - It's a stupid thought anyway, - he told himself, - I'm far too old for her. I'm just worried for her like an older brother would be. - He glanced at Toris who sat brooding opposite him, - Just like my friend over there, - he decided. - God's how are we ever going to endure this voyage? We're both as strung out as a harp and the time stuck on this tub is not going to make things better. -
They made calls at the ports of Forum Julii, Nicsea, Genoa and Luna, where the cargoes were unloaded and new merchandise shipped on board. The two men spent some time in each town, trying to get any information about Brutus's ship and the passengers it carried, but no one had heard anything. The little merchant ship, continued on it's slow way, in beautiful weather, with just the right windage for the craft to perform at it's best. It may have seemed like an eternal voyage to the two men, but they had, in fact, made reasonable time and on the tenth day, they stood at the deck rail of the ship, and looked into the harbour of Pisse, where they saw the battered hulk of a Roman Imperial Bireme.
"By Zeus's beard!" swore Iolaus, quietly, as his eyes lingered on badly damaged ship. The mast had gone, there were gouges along the oar ports where it appeared oars had sheared. Several timbers looked sprung and there was a constant stream of water be ejected from the ship as men bailed the craft out.
"Do you think that's the ship that they were on?" asked Toris, equally quietly.
Iolaus, considered, "We won't know until we can get ashore and ask some questions." He rubbed at his beard in an absent gesture that had become a habit, "But I'd be willing to stake our last dinar on that it is."
It seemed to take forever for the 'Queen of the Waves' to roll her unhurried way into the port of Pisse. The two friends had long since packed up their scant belongings, just in case they found what they were looking for here. They left their packs on their bunks, on the off chance that this wasn't the ship they had trailed, but if it proved to be the right one, they could grab their things at a moment's notice and take off.
"Where first?" asked Toris, as they clattered down the gangplank and onto the cobbled stone of the dock.
His shorter friend considered, "Let's just drift around the dockside taverns and see what information we can dredge up. We need to know if that's the right ship and, if it is, what happened to Gabrielle, Autolycus and Joxer." Toris nodded his approval and followed Iolaus down the street to begin the time consuming job of seeking out the information that they were looking for.
By the end of their perambulations, they had indeed confirmed that the Bireme was the one that Brutus had been on. The ship had, by all accounts, been very lucky to avoid being pounded into splinters on some rocks just to the south of the city. They'd been driven through the only gap in the reef and had beached in the cove beyond, the hulk had only been towed back to Pisse earlier in the day.
With everyone talking about the battered wreck of the ship, the two men were able to pick up plenty of information without really having to ask any questions. All they had to do was listen, as the hulk and it's erstwhile passengers were the main topic of conversation. Therefore, they soon learned that Brutus and his men had left the ship as soon as it had grounded, sending a sailor up the coast to alert the Pisse authorities about the wreck and demand reinforcements, in the name of Caesar, for the immediate scouring of the area to find three very dangerous prisoners that were being escorted back to Rome.
When Iolaus and his tall companion got back on board ship to collect their gear, it was all they could do not to pound each other's shoulders in glee at the thought of their friend's escape. However, it was not too long before a sobering thought took over.
"You know, we still don't know if they made it to shore," Iolaus pointed out, "I mean all we really know is that Brutus is searching for them. He may even have found them by now."
Toris thought carefully, "From what we've heard they jumped overboard to escape, when it looked like that the ship was going to hit the rocks. If the ship got swept through alright, it's a good bet that our friends did. Brutus obviously thinks so or he wouldn't have called out extra men to search."
Iolaus snorted in frustration, "Brutus is covering his ass. He's lost Caesar's second most valuable possession and if he doesn't turn up either a body or the live woman, Julius bloody Caesar is likely to crucify him ... literally!"
"How good a swimmer is Gabrielle?" asked Toris carefully.
The shorter man thought for a moment, "Good," he finally admitted, "she and Xena do quite a lot of swimming."
"Well then," tried Toris optimistically, "until we hear otherwise, we better work on the assumption that she and the others made it, and find them before Brutus and his soldiers do, or we'll be back to square one again."
Iolaus nodded his agreement, grabbed his gear and followed Toris off the ship, to start their search for their missing friends.
- How do I always seem to end up as a force for destruction, no matter what I try to do with my life? - she thought bitterly.
She jerked in her bonds in frustration. For all of her phenomenal strength, she knew that she had very little chance of breaking loose from her chains. Caesar had planned long and hard to make certain that once he had her in his power, she wasn't going to be able to slip her leash with any ease. She ceased her struggles as a baton slapped her across the back. Not a hard blow, just a reminder that she was being observed.
Straining her senses she could hear the final agreement being signed in the pavilion, and knew that her part in this particular scene had been executed to perfection. Caesar had removed Verchinex as a challenge, and that removal would last as long as she lived. On the one hand this told her that Caesar was not planning her death soon, which meant that Gabrielle's life (if not her comfort) was also assured. What was almost as important, however, was that even if the Warrior Princess should break free, Verchinex would still be tied by his oath. It was enough to make Xena seethe.
Forcing herself to relax, she wondered just how long it would be before they began the move back to Lugdunum and from there to Rome. She had no doubt that Caesar wanted to be back in the capital as soon as possible. He had business to attend to with Pompey and he obviously intended using the breathing space, he had just gained from the Gauls, to do so.
- Pompey, - she thought, eyes narrowing, - he could be an ally for us in this. He's not going to like Caesar gaining the upper hand once more. The trouble is, will he view it in his best interests to see Gabrielle and me free ... or dead! -
The thought thundered around her mind as she tried to plan ahead. She had no illusions about escaping from Caesar at this juncture, the dangers for her friend's were too great. But once they were brought together again in Rome. Well then the game changed once more and she needed to be ready for it.
She was brought abruptly from her thoughts as Caesar returned quietly to the 'room'. She could sense him almost, but not quite, in the way that she could sense the presence of Ares. The God made her flesh tingle and crawl. The Roman just made it crawl. She raised her head to glare at him.
He smiled, - Well why not, - he thought happily, - so far she has brought me everything I have sought from her. Now, however, it's time to start training her. I want her brought to heel. I want her to know and acknowledge me as master. - His smile broadened at the prospect, - This is not going to be a short campaign, but by the Gods, it will prove entertaining ... for me at least! -
Caesar signalled a guard who quickly moved forward and removed the gag, "Well, now Xena," he almost purred with contentment, "as I promised, things are now going to change for you. I think that you've been lounging around in that wagon for quite long enough. A warrior like you needs exercise to keep all your skills in place ... and you're going to need those skills, my slave, if you want to keep yourself and that little bard alive ... not to mention your other friends."
Xena's lack of response nettled him, but he knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn't respond until he pressed the right buttons in the correct sequence, "As I no longer need to keep you or your identity hidden from prying Gaulish eyes, we'll have you marching with your guards, from now on. Oh yes," he added, "I think we'll have some sparring between you and my men."
He saw her eyes light up with a feral gleam. He patted her gently, and contemptuously on the cheek, "Tut, tut, Xena. I'm hardly going to let you completely loose for that, am I now? We'll work something out to give you a challenge, while keeping you quite safe at the same time."
He sniffed, pointedly, "In the meantime, I think it's long past your bath time. I won't have a possession of mine at less than it's best, Xena, so I think that a trip to the river is in order for you before we set off today."
The Warrior Princess held back the urge to bite his hand, the hand that, she noted showed the small white scar left from the split javelin in Britannia. She chuckled inwardly. - He may have left marks on me, - she thought grimly, - but he hasn't escaped either. - She observed with pleasure the scar that ran across his right cheek, - Just like Draco's, - she grinned to herself. - Mmmm, perhaps I should patent that, make it my trade mark. - Her lips almost quirked into the private half smile of hers, but she crushed it before it could make it to the outside.
Caesar grabbed a handful of her usually luxuriant raven hair, now dirty and caked with blood, and pulled her head up sharply, disturbing her private thoughts once more, "I'm going to break you, Xena," he told her with calm assurance, "By the time I'm finished with you, you're going to be as meek as a lamb, unless I tell you to be otherwise."
Her answering smile held no humour as she replied to him in a low menacing tone that was heard clearly by everyone within the area, "Dream on, Julius."
She expected the blows that her retort had purchased and had steeled herself against them to make no sound as they thudded home. Nothing hard enough to break a bone, but on muscles and skin that were already strained, damaged and sore, the effect was not negligible.
"Enough," growled Caesar at length, "Get her down to the river and get her washed off. I want to move out of here in short order. Having given his orders he swung out into the main pavilion, and left the guards to unlock her from the posts and the stake that held her collar.
- Oh Gods! - her mind screamed as she tried to straighten her back, - that hurts! - Focusing her mind to compartmentalize the pain she was feeling, she kept her face a blank mask as she tried to encourage her tortured muscles to co-operate.
She stood immobile as a second long chain was fitted to her collar, with one leash holder to walk in front of her and the second behind. The chains on the wooden beam that imprisoned her arms were held by two more of the guards, while the chains used to hold her legs to the posts were taken by a final pair. Once again, she had her six personal watchdogs and the control they exerted over her was not much less than when she had been stuck in the cage.
- Can't expect him to get sloppy, now, can we? - she snarled to herself. - My reputation is really doing me no good on this trip, - she brooded.
The legionaries moved out down towards the river that her sharp ears had located when she had been unloaded from the wagon the previous evening. She saw Patroclese waiting with Flaccus under the welcome shade of an oak tree. She stumbled towards them under the constriction and weight of the shackles, guided by her guards.
"Xena," greeted Patroclese with a smile that faded as he saw the streak of blood that trailed down the side of her face. He shook his head with genuine sorrow that he had been responsible, in his part, for so much of the pain that the Warrior Princess had to endure, "Can't you stay out of trouble for five minutes," he said in a tone that so reminded her of Gabrielle that a spontaneous laugh escaped her before she could contain it.
Not only Patroclese, but Flaccus and the soldiers looked at her with shocked incredulity. The laugh had been so clear and vibrant and was totally out of keeping with the dour, stoic warrior that they had become used to. She almost laughed again at the looks on their faces, but constrained herself and answered the looks with a roguish grin that totally confused them, especially when she added, "Not even my Mother could teach me to do that."
She looked at the lazy, deep running river and asked, "So, gentlemen. How have you got this little escapade planned out, huh?"
"Xena, will you give your word not to attempt to escape, and not to resist being re-shackled, if we let you out of your chains?" Patroclese asked.
Xena noticed that Flaccus looked uncomfortable about even suggesting that she be trusted to honour her oath. He remembered all too well how difficult it had been to catch her in the first place. Patroclese hadn't been there, so he had no real idea just how very dangerous the woman was.
She thought about giving the promise. It would undoubtedly have made things easier, but that was the problem. The easier she made things for herself, and the 'enemy', the closer she came to accepting their rules, their views and their orders. Her stubbornness reared up at giving that tiny inch. Once she started down the slippery slope she was lost and might just as well surrender to Caesar right here and now.
Xena shook her head, both in refusal to make the pledge and to give up the private war that she was waging with her old enemy. He'd have to fight her every step of the way, because there was no way on the Gods' earth that she'd ever give in to his decrees and demands, "No, I'll make no such promise, Patroclese," she told him evenly.
The healer shook his head in resignation, He could see the stubborn set of the Warrior Princess's jaw, and he knew full well that it would be easier to move a mountain than get her to reconsider her choice, "Very well, Xena, we'll do this the hard way."
Flaccus took over, "Get that beam out," he ordered his men, who complied with speed, releasing Xena's trapped arms so that she could at least move them for the short distance allowed by her manacles. It was a wonderful release and she revelled in her limited freedom.
"Okay," she asked, "what next?"
"Listen very carefully, slave," rasped Flaccus in his gruff, no-nonsense, voice, "I'm going to take the belt and manacles off of you. The collar chains, the leg irons and the leg chains stay on while you're in the river." He made a gesture and twenty archers, strategically placed around the bathing place moved into view, "You so much as look as if you're going to cause me any trouble and they've got orders to shoot. Don't worry, they're blunted arrows but they'll have enough impact to bring you down. Got it?"
"Oh, I think I can follow that," Xena replied coldly, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Don't push your luck with me, slave," Flaccus growled. "I don't know what happened with Blasius, back at Lugdunum, but I'm certain you had something to do with it. The man was a bullying brute, but he was one of mine and I don't appreciate slaves who retaliate against given authority. So just you keep in line and keep your smart mouth to yourself, understand?"
Xena nodded her comprehension. She really had no desire to force a confrontation and start a feud with Flaccus. She was aware that she was pressing his slender patience, and knew that it was her anger at Caesar that was making her act so provocatively with the Senior Centurion.
Flaccus gave her a hard glare which she held without dropping her eyes. She might not wish to deliberately provoke the soldier, but she was not going to be cowed by anyone here. Luckily he took her silence as sufficient conformity. "Healer," he instructed, waving Patroclese forward, "you know what to do."
As the physician stepped forward with a small sharp knife, Xena's mind suddenly screamed, - The toothpick! - If Patroclese cut the shirt off of her, he was almost certain to find the small piece of metal and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
The healer stepped behind her and she tensed as she waited for him to slit the material up the back of the shirt. He first undid the belt that secured the shackles to her waist, before making a slit in the dirt and blood smeared rag that she was wearing. Taking a firm grip with both hands, he pulled the shirt apart, up to the collar where he used the knife to slice through the thicker material.
She knew he'd found the toothpick. She felt his hands hesitate for a moment. But instead of declaring his discovery, he continue with his task of cutting the cloth away. When she was naked from the waist up, he slid the knife down the outside seams of the her trousers and asked her to step away from them, at which point Flaccus removed the manacles and motioned her into the water.
Xena wasn't worried about being stripped in front of her guards; after all, they'd already seen her without clothing in Nemausus, and nudity had never been something to cause her concern. She had a fine body and had used it to her advantage against men on more than one occasion. What did concern her, however, was what Patroclese intended to do about that toothpick!
She settled down into the cold river and caught the bar of soap that the healer threw to her. She began to methodically clean the grime from her hair and body, as she tried to make up her mind how Patroclese would chose to act and the possible consequences of that choice. If he informed Flaccus and Caesar, she would undoubtedly be the recipient of some harsh punishment. Another whipping seemed the most likely bet, and she could handle it, but that could also mean a similar punishment for Gabrielle which she didn't think she could endure.
If Caesar thought about it, he'd realise that Gabrielle must have known about the toothpick. It was a logical step from the fact that the only time she would have been in a position to gain possession of the implement was that first night in Caesar's tent, which meant that they must work out that Gabrielle had helped her to keep it hidden during her illness. It presented Caesar with the perfect opportunity to really discipline them both, knowing that it would hurt Xena all the more.
Her face took on a grim cast, and the soldiers surrounding her began to feel the tension that was emanating from the woman they were set to guard. If Xena were aware of their nervousness, she didn't show it. She had far more difficult concerns to occupy her mind.
Finishing with the soap, she threw it back out to the healer and ducked herself under the water to remove any remaining residue that clung to her. For all her immediate worries, she did allow the stray thought to register that it was good to be clean once more.
"C'mon, slave," barked Flaccus, "get out of there. We're not going to stand around while you take your ease."
Xena rose from the water like a goddess from the depths and made a slow stately progress back to the bank where she was thrown a rough towel which she used to dry off her long, lean body, "What now?" she asked as she threw the towel back to the healer.
A fresh, blue shirt was brought to her by Patroclese who helped her put it on, threading the collar chains through the neck, first one then the other. As the shirt settled onto her shoulders, she made eye contact with the healer who shook his head slightly before looking away.
Flaccus brought the belt and manacles back and Xena offered no resistance as the leather was fastened back around her waist, and she held her hands up for him to snap the cuffs back around her wrists. "We'll take the leg irons and chains off, while you put a fresh pair of trousers back on," Flaccus told her flatly, "Don't give me any trouble."
She nodded her agreement once more, far more concerned with working out just what Patroclese had meant by that small shake of his head. - Is it just possible that he won't say anything? - she silently asked herself. She knew that the healer felt guilty over his part in tricking both her and Gabrielle, but had that guilt so shook his loyalty to Caesar that she might just have gained an ally in the enemy's camp?
She allowed Patroclese to help her into the pair of brown leather trousers that he produced, "They'll take more wear and tear," he explained to her questioning look. Then he gave her her boots, "You can't march back to Lugdunum in bare feet. Lord Caesar wants you in fighting condition when we get back to Roman territory, and you'll hardly be that if your feet have been ripped to shreds, now will you?"
He had to help her put those on too. There was no way her chained hands could have managed the job on their own. Once she was settled into her footwear, which felt strange after going barefoot for so long, Flaccus motioned a soldier forward with a new pair of leg irons. The chain between the cuffs was longer, obviously to allow her to keep up with the marching soldiers. The long chains to her ankles were replaced, as was the beam through the crooks of her elbows and across her back. Once again Xena flexed her muscles against the thick wood to see if she could make any impression on it, and was disappointed by her failure.
Patroclese approached with a comb, "Let's see if we can get your hair into order. You look like some kind of barbarian at the moment."
"I thought that's what all Romans consider other peoples to be," she sniped tartly.
Patroclese ignored the comment, although Flaccus hit her hard across the arm with his vine staff, "You will learn to keep your smart mouth shut, slave," he warned, "Or by Jupiter, I'll have the hide off of you."
Fire burned in her eyes, but she held her peace, forcing her anger down, refusing to waste it on the Centurion. Caesar was her target, all the rest of his men were his tools. She could, and would, reserve her despite for her true enemy.
"Sit down, Xena," instructed Patroclese. Which she did with less difficulty that he'd expected. The longer leg irons allowed her the freedom to lower herself to the ground without the use of her hands.
The Warrior Princess watched as the rest of the Roman contingent, worked on breaking their camp. Patroclese's hands moved with a deft sureness as he teased out the vicious knots and tangles that had been allowed to accumulate in her hair. Finally, when he'd finished that, he quickly plaited two thin braids from her temples and secured them with twine at the back of her head, as he'd seen Gabrielle do on their way to join the Amazons.
"There," he said, "not as good as you or Gabrielle could have done, but better than it was."
"Thank you," she replied sincerely. It felt good to be clean and tidy once more. It made her feel more human and less like some animal.
"C'mon," Flaccus demanded, "It's time to get moving."
Xena stood as easily as she had sat and allowed the pace of the march to be dictated by the legionaries who held the securing chains. This was not going to be the most comfortable way to travel, but she thought it was preferable to the wagon and the cage.
Since they started out long after midday, they didn't journey too far, even with the long summer evening. Yet, after over a moon of almost total inactivity, Xena was grateful when they finally stopped to make camp. The heavy weight of the shackles and the wooden beam, coupled with her bruised and abused body, left her feeling totally drained. In particular, her calf muscles felt as though they were on fire from such a long period of little use.
She gratefully lowered herself to the ground when they stopped. The wooden tie across her back made things uncomfortable and she couldn't lie down as she would have liked, but it was a relief to get off her feet. - The bastard was right, - she thought moodily, - I am out of condition. -
Camp was quickly set up and tents were erected for the soldiers who weren't on guard duty, as well as for Caesar of course. The wafting smell of a stew reached her and she realised that she was hungry and thirsty. Patroclese had made sure that she was given water on the march, but she hadn't eaten all day.
She noted with interest the twin posts being set into the ground in the centre of the camp. She had little doubt that they had something to do with her, but she was willing to be patient and wait to see what Caesar had in mind, - Probably something to do with the sparring session he's got planned, - the thought drifted across her mind and a wild light hit her eyes. - If they put a sword in my hand, I'll damn well show them how to spar, - she thought grimly.
By the time that the posts were readied, Xena had recovered from the hardships of the days march. Her legs felt a little tight and stiff, but she'd been in worse condition and the thought of letting loose some of her pent up anger and frustration was a balm to her soul. It was with a wild eagerness that she looked forward to the chance to fight. She knew that she should suppress it, that her dark self drove and encouraged her wild exhilaration in combat, but she needed the thrill that testing herself, and pushing her abilities, gave her. In a way it was what she lived for. Only in battle did she truly come alive, her skills made her who she was.
- It isn't all of me, - she conceded to herself, - but if I'm ever to come to terms with myself, I have to recognise that it is an important part of my being. The wild dangerous part that's capable of perpetrating the great evils of my past, like Cirra, or the good deeds that Gabrielle has helped me to achieve. - It irked her, however, that by allowing the lust for combat to rise in anticipation within her, she was granting Caesar some small measure to dictate her life. - But, - she decided, - as long as I recognise that, and know that I'm doing this for my benefit and not his, then I'll go along with his little game. I'm going to have to be at peak fitness when it comes time to break out. -
It wasn't long before Flaccus came and ordered her to move over to the posts. The belt was released and replaced by a long thick chain that was wrapped around her waist and held in place behind her back by a stout padlock. The ends of the chain were then secured to the post.
- Clever, - she admitted to herself as she tested the limits that the restriction was going to impose. She stood still as Flaccus removed all of the other fetters that loaded down her limbs, and removed the leashes from the collar. She revelled briefly in the relative freedom, stretching her muscles, making absolutely certain she could move well enough to fight, even testing the situation with a small tightly controlled backflip, bouncing immediately into its forward counterpart.
- Gods that felt good, - she could feel some of the tension draining out of her. Her body and psyche thrived on action and physical work. Being shut up and chained for long days had been a major contributing factor to the frustration that goaded her into baiting Caesar and, to a far lesser extent, causing her clashes with Flaccus. She shook her arms, loosening the tight muscles and waited to see just what they had in mind for practice.
Flaccus had detailed six big men for the sparring session. They'd stripped off their armour and discarded their weapons, Xena noted with disappointment. Caesar was obviously not going to trust her with a weapon in her hand in this situation. It was a pity, but unarmed combat could prove to be enjoyable. "Okay boys," the half smile played on her lips as the feral light shone from her deep blue eyes, "one at a time or altogether?"
Flaccus ordered the first man in. The soldiers, technically had the advantage being free to alter their angles of attack, while the Warrior Princess was limited by her bonds. Even so the first man was wary of her. He knew exactly how well she could fight. Moving to her left he attempted to come in at her making the most of the chain's restriction. He was met by a booted foot planted firmly in his gut that doubled him over to just the right height to meet the backhanded punch delivered with enough force to somersault him sideways to land with a crashing impact on the ground.
Xena growled in victory, her blood surging, pushing all thought from her mind of everything but the combat. She revelled in the surge of power that she felt and stood ready to take on the next opponent, or opponents as it turned out. Flaccus sent the next two men forward.
- More of a challenge this time, - she thought with satisfaction, - They're gonna come at me from either side. Good thinking, - she acknowledged to herself, - but really far too predictable. -
She readied herself for the concerted lunge she knew that they would make, and as soon as they came into range she leapt into the air, kicking out with both feet and getting solid connections under their chins, putting them out of the game.
As she made the leap, she realised she had put in too much power, feeling the chain tighten at her waist and pull her back to the ground, where she landed a little heavily. Yet it was a certain feeling, that she had identified at the apex of the leap, that suddenly quickened her thoughts. She had felt the chain give!
With no time to dwell on the thought, the final three men were waved into the fray. Working as a team, they took their time in trying to get themselves into a position where they could at least get in a blow against their formidable opponent.
Xena didn't wait for them to get their chance. She lunged against the restraint of the chain, getting herself close enough to the soldier in the middle to deck him with a solid blow to the nose, feeling the cartilage and bone shatter under the force of the blow. She also registered that the links of the chain were definitely beginning to give.
She skipped aside from the punch aimed by the man on the left, and rode out the worst from the one on the right who caught her on the shoulder, but with little force. Screaming her fabled battlecry, "Ay,yi,yi,yi,yi,yi!" she leapt high off the ground into a tucked backflip that produced enough momentum to snap her free from the chain at her waist and into enough clear space to give her the opportunity of glancing around quickly and see an opening that offered her the chance for escape.
Her mind on fire from battle, even of this minor nature, and wild with the thought of escape from Caesar, she sprinted for the opening taking out a soldier, who moved into her path, with a stunning head butt and relieving him of his sword in one fluid movement.
Two more men tried to block her passage of escape, and she cut them down with savage ease as all of the pent up anger and frustration she had been harbouring took control. She noted almost absently that the legionaries were beginning to swing into action, the initial shock of her breaking loose being overcome by discipline and the knowledge that their lives were at stake if she escaped them. A wild light danced in her eyes as she raced towards a group of twenty that had organised themselves ahead of her.
She didn't engage them. She just wanted to get past them, yelling out her warcry, she forward flipped over them and sprinted away just as fast as her long legs would carry her. In the exhilaration of her sudden freedom, she almost failed to register the pin pricks that hit her in the back and right arm.
As she continued to run, she picked at the slight pain on her arm and felt the small dart there, pulling it out. - Damn! - she thought. - I should have known that was too easy. The bastard's set me up. -
Pushing on hard, she could feel her body becoming sluggish as she continued to lope along, easily out distancing the pursuit. It took some time but slowly her mind became foggy and she began to stumble, - Need to find someplace to hide. Give this a chance to wear off before they can find me. -
She had tried to head towards where she guessed the town of Vershin to be. She hoped she'd be able to find a place to hide and later, maybe, after the drugs had worn off she planned to steal herself a horse. She knew that Caesar wasn't carrying messenger pigeons on this trip and that gave her hope that she might manage to beat his plans for Gabrielle by somehow reaching her first. - Even if I have to call on the gods for help! - she growled to herself. - They owe me! -
Shaking her head, she slowed her pace. Concentration was becoming increasingly difficult, control over her muscles was very limited. Everything was beginning to spin, and only her iron will and determination kept her going until she stumbled across a shallow depression in the ground that was partially filled with a bed of leaves, left there since the autumn fall. Knowing that she had no other viable choice, Xena collapsed into the dead foliage and forced her lethargic arms to cover herself with them as best she could. Aware that she could do no more, she finally gave into the demands of the drug and collapsed into unconsciousness.
"Yes General," affirmed Flaccus, "All four men swore that they got her."
Caesar scowled at Patroclese who shrugged and responded, "That amount of Curamin was enough to knock out a bull in its prime. You know, my Lord, what Xena's strength is like. I warned you that you were taking a risk."
"Yes, yes," snapped Caesar, "I can do without your 'I told you so's' Patroclese." He turned his glare back at Flaccus, "Widen the search area. She obviously got further than we anticipated." He thought of something and motioned Flaccus to remain a moment longer, "How long will that amount of the drug keep her unconscious?" he asked the healer.
"A normal man would be incapacitated for at least two full days," Patroclese responded promptly, "with Xena," he pursed his lips as he tried to assess an accurate estimate of the likely time, "between eight candlemarks and a full day. I can't be more precise than that."
Flaccus nodded his understanding and left Caesar's tent, bellowing out orders as he marched commandingly through the encampment, "Get me torches and the best trackers we've got. We'll search all night if we have to, but I want that slave re-captured and chained by first light or you'll all wish you'd never been born."
Caesar watched the search parties move out and slammed his right fist into his left palm. His idea had been good. Xena needed to experience the exhilaration of freedom, only to have it snatched away. If he was going to crush her will he had to use every trick available to him. Physical punishment was something she could stand up to very well. He needed to be able to break her inside. Wear down her resistance and replace it with total obedience. This had been one of the steps in the process. The crushing disappointment of failure, on its own, would hardly achieve his ends, but over a period of time, with other clever manipulations it should bear fruit.
- It still will, - he declared to himself, - if we can just get her back again. -
Flaccus had a ten man squad with him and he knew that they were in for a struggle. He brought his vine staff down hard on her knuckles, forcing her to release the soldier she had grabbed, and snapped, "Get her!"
The legionaries piled in on top of the Warrior Princess who had little chance of fighting off their combined weight. She still had very little control over her limbs and her mind was fuzzy and unresponsive. She did manage to get in a couple of solid punches and one really vicious kick to one man's groin, but then they had her pinned on the ground and Flaccus was locking the manacles back onto her wrists.
Gripped by an urgent frenzy she resumed her struggle, throwing off all but two of the soldiers with her wild thrashings, before they piled back on turning her face down, pushing her head into the damp dewy grass, while Flaccus took the opportunity to tightly secure the belt back around her waist. Two men lay across her legs as the irons were locked into place on her ankles, and a chain attached to her collar.
"Get her up," growled Flaccus as he surreptitiously rubbed his jaw. He'd been caught by one of her flying fists and it hurt like Hades. "Lets get her back to camp before she can cause any more trouble."
Xena had been hauled to her feet and then dragged back the ten miles to Caesar's camp, as she continued to fight the debilitating effects of the drug that had been used on her. Her mind screamed in anger at her failure to thwart Caesar's plan, yet a quiet corner stubbornly reminded her that if she had succeeded, she could have doomed her friends, and Gabrielle in particular.
Xena was dumped down by one of the posts that had been used the evening before and her leash secured around it. Her mind was still hazy and her muscles felt heavy and unco-operative. She leaned back against the wood and rested, allowing herself to drift along with the drug induced relaxation she felt.
Patroclese soon appeared at her side. He checked her pulse, got her to open her eyes so he could check the progress of the Curamin and then encouraged her to drink from the waterskin he had brought with him. He guessed that she was probably hungry, but she wasn't really in any state to eat at that time, and he doubted there'd be any breakfast for anyone that morning as Caesar was impatient to be on his way. Having done what he could, the healer scurried off to inform his lord of his observations.
"So she's still under the effects of the drug, but she's struggling to fight it off," the Roman noble considered the information. "Is she able to walk?"
"If she gets some support from the guards for the next couple of candlemarks, it will probably help to disperse the effects of the Curamin anyway." answered Patroclese carefully.
"Very well. As soon as the last of the search parties return, we'll move out. I want to get back to the VIIth and on our way to Lugdunum as soon as possible." Caesar instructed.
"My Lord," began the healer carefully, "What punishment do you intend to impose upon the Warrior Princess?"
"Slave," corrected Caesar.
"My Lord?" questioned Patroclese, confused.
"Not Warrior Princess, nor Xena of Amphipolis, she is just the slave, Xena, property of Caesar." His eyes bored into his physician with a burning intensity, until Patroclese gave a slight nod that he understood. "As for punishment, well, beatings impress the men, and since she managed to severely injure at least three of the guard force, I think the least she deserves is ten lashes from Flaccus. Hardly enough to seriously debilitate her, with you to tend her injuries, but enough for fairness sake. However, I think that my slave gets too much rest and relaxation, so from now, until we return to Lugdunum, she gets no sleep. Lets see what a little exhaustion does for her resistance."
Patroclese bowed as he left the general's tent, and swore under his breath. He disliked this campaign to break the woman's spirit. Yet he was in no position to do anything about it. Xena was Caesar's property, and Caesar was virtual ruler of Rome.
The Warrior Princess remembered very little about the march to rejoin the VIIth legion. She was vaguely aware that the wooden beam was back to pin her arms, and that the additional chains had been re-attached for her guards to control her, but the actual march was lost in a haze of cloudy impressions that flitted through her detached consciousness.
They were back with the legion by midday, and the officers had been alerted to be ready to move out as soon as their commander rejoined them. By this time, Xena was shaking off the foggy feeling caused by the drug, and became aware of the interest being shown by the legionaries they now marched with.
She heard the questions asked of her guard maniple about her, and their answers. Most of the soldiers of the VIIth Legion, were frankly disbelieving when told about the danger this one woman warrior posed, but many of them knew members of the elite guard and knew that they were some of the best fighters selected from various units especially for this task. The result was that soon the men of the VIIth became as wary of the dangerous slave as the guard maniple were.
When they made camp for the evening, Caesar decided that Xena's punishment would do very well for entertaining his troops. A post was set up in a clear space within the camp and the Warrior Princess was hauled up, hands above her head once her leather belt was released. Patroclese eased the shirt up her back and over her head so that it left her flesh clear for the whip. "This slave attempted to run," Caesar announced, "In doing so she seriously injured three legionnaires. The punishment for this crime will be ten lashes laid on well by Senior Centurion Flaccus. I want you all to note that this slave is highly dangerous. She is also my personal property. I expect you all to guard against her getting free again. In the unlikely event that she should manage to do so, I want her taken alive for me to deal with as I see fit. Is this understood."
"YES SIR!" came the response from close to five thousand men. A full legion was something even Xena would think twice about before taking on alone.
"Carry on with the punishment, Senior Centurion," instructed Caesar.
The ten lashes were laid on hard, although to be honest, Xena had little difficulty in holding her silence against the pain. Flaccus had good control of the whip and he was able to lay the strokes in an even pattern that cut her back from shoulders to waist. The Warrior Princess had clenched her teeth and fists, closed her eyes and turned her thoughts far away from her present situation.
She had borne far worse treatment in her life. Her previous whipping at Flaccus's hands had been far more gruelling; her body had been in a pretty unhealthy condition at that time and there had been double the number of lashes to be endured. It hurt. But it wasn't unbearable and she was even able to smile condescendingly at her tormentor, making his brown eyes flicker with annoyance and anger.
The men were dismissed and Patroclese stepped up to attend the deep cuts in her back. She winced more when the vinegar was applied to clean the wounds than when they were being inflicted upon her. The salve that the healer then used made her draw a sharp intake of breath as it stung like fire, but gradually it produced a numbing sensation that allowed her to relax somewhat.
"Thanks," she said softly as she leaned her forehead against the post in relief that that particular ordeal was over. As the healer packed his equipment away, she asked, "Any idea what he has in mind for me next?"
Patroclese looked at her with troubled eyes. She couldn't see his face but she could feel his tension and uncertainty, "He wants to break you, Xena. He sees you as a challenge, and I think he needs challenges in his life."
"Did you tell him?" she asked very quietly.
"No," said the healer after a pause, "and I won't. You are suffering enough without my adding to your burden ... or Gabrielle's." he added almost too softly to hear.
"What does he intend doing with her?" questioned Xena, more than a touch of anxiety in her voice.
"You know he'll use her against you," Patroclese told her. He stood and worked the shirt back over her head and eased it over the tender flesh of her back. "Once he gets you back together he'll make certain that you see her beaten and humiliated. He thinks it will help break your will to resist him, and he's probably right. I know how much you care for Gabrielle."
"Patroclese," she said low and urgently, "I know you're a good man. You've got to help get Gabrielle away from him. I'll take whatever I've got coming. My past misdeeds have earned me no less, and probably much more, but she shouldn't have to suffer for my sins."
"I can't," the healer said unsteadily, "I can't."
"Please," whispered the Warrior Princess in desperation.
"I'm sorry," returned Patroclese quietly. "Look I'll get you something to eat. I know you haven't eaten for two days, and I don't want a repeat of what happened last time." He saw the mute plea in her incredible blue eyes and shook his head, "I'm sorry, I can't," he repeated before picking up his medical kit and heading off to the cook's tent to get some stew.
Xena closed her eyes to hide the desperation she couldn't crush. Caring for others was a liability to her, but Gabrielle's friendship and trust had given her so much and the little bard had inevitably found her way through the walls and defences that she had erected around her heart. If Hercules had been the one to discover she still had a heart, it was the gentle kindness and honest friendship of Gabrielle that had slowly returned it to life.
She grunted with surprise and pain as one of her usual guards jabbed her sharply in the ribs with his baton, "Keep your eyes open wench. There's to be no sleep for you this night." He and his mates laughed unpleasantly. None of them had gotten any sleep the previous night and they felt far from kindly towards her for her part in that.
Patroclese came back with a large bowl of stew and a thick wedge of bread, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to feed you," he apologised. "Orders are you remain there for the night."
She sighed in resignation and ate mechanically as Patroclese spooned the stew, and held the bread for her to take bites from. When she'd finished the meal, he held up a mug for her to take a drink from, "Wine?" she questioned in surprise.
"I figured you could probably do with something a bit stronger than water," he answered with a clipped smile, "Make the most of it," he advised and offered up the cup for another longer swallow, allowing her to drink at her own pace until it the cup was drained.
"Thanks, I needed that," she agreed.
"Try not to aggravate your guards," he advised, "I'd rather not get up in the morning and find another collection of wounds that need treating."
Xena felt the underlying humour of that and graced him with one of her quirky half smiles, "As if I'd do that," she told him.
"Ha!" was his reply as he took the cup and bowl back to the mess tent. "I'll check on your back in the morning and bring you some breakfast."
The camp settled down as the light faded from the sky and darkness descended over the long rows of tents. The only illumination in the camp was made by the four large fires set around the post that Xena was chained to, brightly lighting the area to give the guards a clear view of her at all times. Every time, her eyes threatened to drift closed, she felt the sharp jab from the end of a baton.
Lack of sleep was something she was used to coping with. She hadn't slept well for many years and rarely went an entire night without spending some hours sleepless. She had, on occasion, gone as long as three days without any sleep at all, so remaining awake that night was no particular hardship.
The following morning, Patroclese had returned and plastered more salve over her cuts, before feeding her the standard meat porridge for breakfast. She ate it to keep up her strength. She'd promised Gabrielle and she tried to keep the promises she made, especially to her bardic friend.
During the stop for lunch, Patroclese returned and had the wooden restraint removed while he cleaned her wounds once more and plastered more of the salve over them. They both knew that by the evening stop that the heavy wood would have rubbed the abrasions raw, but it was a price that she was forced to pay for her intractable stubbornness. While she resisted Caesar he would take every precaution to limit her capacity for either escape or violent retaliation to his 'games'.
That evening they had camped in a clearing around a huge oak tree and Xena had been chained, by her collar leashes, to a convenient branch about three foot above her head. Held in that way she couldn't sit, being forced to stand upright or choke against the collar. Her arms were released from the imprisonment of the length of wood, and Patroclese did his work in clearing up the lash wounds, paying particular attention to the ones chafed by the beam.
"Most of these are healing pretty well," he told her as he worked. "The cuts above and below where that spar rests are already closed and they won't need any more treatment after tomorrow. But those four in the middle of your back, they're going to cause us problems."
"I'll manage," she gritted out as he dabbed at the wounds with his astringent and then covered them in salve.
"Xena," he hissed pleadingly, "can't you just give in. If not for your own sake, then for Gabrielle's?"
His plea was met with a clenched jaw and an icy stare. He knew that he was wasting his efforts in trying to talk her into accepting Caesar's mastery and he began to understand that it wouldn't just break her, it would destroy her to give Caesar best in this.
- I think I have the misfortune to be caught between two of history's most indomitable wills, - he thought sadly. - Neither will be satisfied until they have achieved victory over the other. The question is, what will be the cost to them, and those around them? - Patroclese fed her once more and made sure that she had plenty of water to drink before retiring for the night.
Her time was spent uncomfortably awake. Her legs were tired and aching and sleep was denied her, firstly by the way she had been secured, and secondly by the constant prodding she received in the ribs if her eyes drifted shut. Despite being deprived of sleep, she was still alert and would remain so for some time yet, although she recognised Caesar's current game and knew that she would eventually succumb to exhaustion.
The final day's march back to the city was a nightmare as she tried to focus her wandering attention on putting one foot in front of the other. she stumbled frequently and took three more serious falls that left her with a swollen and sprained left wrist, a painfully scraped jaw and a black eye where she had caught her face on a large stone.
She felt a painful gratitude when she was finally locked up into her familiar cell in Lugdunum's garrison barracks, and a sense of relief that they were actually going to let her sleep for a while. Free of the wooden beam, she slumped into the straw at the back of the cell and closed her eyes. She knew that she should fight the feelings that she was experiencing; gratitude and relief were emotions on that slippery slope that Caesar was trying to force her down. He was using tried and trusted techniques to break her will. She knew. She recognised them. She'd used them in her dark past. And she was beginning to believe that she was no more proof against them than any other tormented soul was.
Within seconds of laying down she fell into a heavy, deep slumber. Something on the distant edges of her mind tried to warn her that it wasn't a good idea, but exhaustion had a firm hold of her and she fell heavily into Morpheus' realm, opening herself to all the horrors that she had buried deeply from herself.
you've come to play with me again at long last. I've missed you so, Xena."
She turned slowly to face the woman she hated, pitied, felt responsible for, and felt the
familiar gut churning rage as she looked at the petite blonde goddess, madwoman, who had
helped murder her son.
"Have you missed me, Xena?" she asked with that oh, so innocent smile. "It's been a while
hasn't it? What have you been doing with yourself?" she asked inspecting the very physical
signs of abuse that the Warrior Princess carried.
"What do you want, Callisto?" Xena demanded in a low menacing growl.
"Only to visit with an old friend," the blonde smiled pleasantly before her brown eyes
hardened into chips of stone and her face changed into a rage filled snarl, "Only to see how
you like being treated as one of the downtrodden."
The Warrior Princess stood motionless as her enemy circled her, gently touching the cuts
and bruises that showed on Xena's long, lean body. "He's doing a pretty good job, isn't
he?" Callisto whispered softly close to her ear, "He really knows how to take care of you,
my sweet. I'm not sure that I really like that, you know." she continued with a petulant twist
to her mouth, "You're mine, Xena, and I don't think I want him playing with you."
"Why don'tcha take it up with him, then?" the Warrior Princess snarled, "Oh, sorry, guess
you can't at that, can ya!"
Callisto turned rage filled eyes on her nemesis, "You really shouldn't try to taunt me that
way, my sweet," she snarled, as she pointed a finger at Xena, sending a bolt of power at the
Warrior Princess that slammed her back against a boulder that appeared out of nothing,
trapping her there with strong hands reaching out from within it to hold her immobile.
"Tut, tut, Xena, you really shouldn't make me angry, because I can really hurt you here."
She stepped up close and the dark warrior tensed herself for the vicious backhanded blow
that cracked into her jaw.
"Callisto, I've been hit harder by Joxer and children," snarled back the Warrior Princess
as she strained to break free of the restraints that the mad goddess had set.
"Ah, no, no, no, no," chided the blonde softly, I've waited too long for this for you to make
me end it quickly." She looked deep into Xena's eyes, an insane light flickered and sparked
there, "Speaking of children, I'm sure that you'd like to see your child again."
"Callisto, no!" anger, pain and outrage sounded in the warrior's voice, "Your quarrel is
with me. Leave him out of it."
"What, and miss a touching mother and child reunion?" asked the blonde cocking her head
slightly to one side and tapping her jaw thoughtfully, "I think not."
She snapped her fingers and a young boy appeared at her side. Solan ran to Callisto and
hugged her fondly, before turning his bright blue eyes on Xena, a look filled with hatred and
condemnation filled his bright innocent face, "Solan and I have become quite good friends,"
Callisto tormented maliciously, "He understands now what a cruel, heartless bitch you
really are, Xena. Aren't you pleased to know that he recognises you for what you are?"
"Solan?" she whispered, an aching loss in her voice.
"Tell your mother about all the innocent people you've met, who knew her just briefly ...
before she slaughtered them!" sneered Callisto with relish. "Tell her how you've cursed her
very name and the blood connection that you have with her."
"I hate you!" the boy snarled with pent up emotion shaking his frame, "You're a cold
blooded murderer. You've destroyed more lives than you'll ever be able to make amends for.
Your very hands run red with the blood of the innocent."
Grief stricken, Xena glanced at her hands and saw the crimson stains that proclaimed his
words as truth, "Solan, I ..." she didn't know what to say, she had no defence. His words
were true and the faces of the dead haunted her once again.
She shook her head trying to clear the images from her mind. This was a dream. Her dream,
she could control it ... she could ...
"Solan," said Callisto mildly, "you can end your Mother's reign of destruction," she
snapped her fingers and the sword of Borias appeared in her hands. "Take your father's
sword and run it through her black heart."
Xena watched horrified as Solan, her innocent, gentle, son, took the sword and advanced
towards her while Callisto's insane cackle echoed and crashed in resounding waves, "Solan
don't!" she pleaded. Not for herself, the god's knew that she had earned her death and
place in Tartarus a thousand times over, but because of the damage that the act would do to
her son - his loss of blood innocence, the crime of matricide, the guilt of murder.
He placed a small hand on her stomach and lifted the sword to aim for her heart,
"SOLAN, NO!"
she screamed again, jerking her arms free of the restraints and knocking his hand and
sword away ...
Ignoring the restriction of the chains she smashed double fisted punches into any part of her tormentor's anatomy that came into reach. Four men were quickly down and disabled. Two had broken jaws, one was curled into a fetal ball clutching his groin and making small whimpering noises. The fourth had been flung into the stone wall of the cell with such force, he'd collapsed in a boneless heap.
Her awareness didn't register the sudden activity outside in the guard room, her manic induced rage had her gripped in a frenzy that forced her to lash out in her anguish and pain. She brought her manacled hands around in a two handed gut punch that doubled her next victim over, then delivered a stunning blow to the back of his exposed head, the sixth member of the guard who had entered her cell was incautious enough to drift within her reach. She wrapped her chains around his neck and began to draw the chain tight, squeezing the life out of him with the increasing pressure.
A flood of men hit her like a tidal wave as they crashed through the cell door as soon as it swung open. She was borne to the ground along with the man she continued to strangle, under the piled bodies of twenty guards. She thrashed and heaved and bucked in wild abandonment as she threw all her strength, all her might, into fighting off the faceless men who had invaded her dreams and sought to bring her down.
With a burst of unbelievable, violent, power, she threw her attackers off as if they were made of straw, struggling to stand before they piled themselves upon her again and bore her down to the ground, "Somebody bring some chains in here," yelled a decurion, as they struggled to contain the thrashing madwoman.
Within moments, two guards scurried into the cell. It was difficult, but they managed to get the thick chain attached to her collar and another wrapped around her arms and body and a third wrapped and locked around her legs, "Okay, now lock that leash to that ring in the wall and get everybody out of here," ordered the decurion, breathing hard. As soon as the chain was locked in place, the soldiers released the Warrior Princess, who continued to strain and jerk against the restraints that held her, before collecting their fallen comrades and clearing out of the cell, making sure that the door was locked firmly behind them.
The young decurion, Junius, looked in at the tormented slave, "Quintus, see if you can find the healer, Patroclese," he ordered, "Marcellus, round up Cornelius and see what he can do for our injured."
- Damn, - Junius thought moodily, - Why did this have to happen when the senior officers are all with the commander, - he watched in concern as the woman's frenetic struggles gradually subsided and she drew herself into as much of a curled ball as she could manage. Junius saw her big frame begin to shake and he thought that maybe she was crying.
He stood observing the slave and wondered what had caused such a violent outburst. He was lost in reverie as a hand touched his arm and the healer's voice asked, "What happened here?"
"Damned if I know," answered Junius running a hand through his hair in frustration. "When we put her in there, she collapsed on that straw and fell almost instantly asleep as we'd been told to expect. A little while ago she started thrashing around and then began shouting out ... no screaming out a word over and over."
"What word?" demanded Patroclese intently.
"Solan, I think" he glanced at some of his men to get confirmation, "Yeah, that was it, Solan, over and over. I sent the six in there to wake her up, but when Cadmius touched her she just seemed to spring at him totally wild like," he shook his head in disbelief at how quickly and easily she had overcome six strong men, "I got a look in her eyes, an' I'm tellin' you, there weren't no one home. It was really scary."
Patroclese listened carefully, all the while watching Xena as her body shook as it lay in the straw. - Solan was her son, - he knew. He remembered from the Amazon trial. "You say she fell into a deep sleep?" he questioned again. "Yeah, must have been that exhaustion, you know, 'cause in all the time we've had her, I've never see her take more than a light doze." answered Junius.
"Alright, open the door and let me in there," Patroclese told him.
"You gotta be kidding," the decurion answered incredulously. "It took twenty of us just to hold her down and get her wrapped in those chains, and she nearly shook us all off, even then."
"It'll be alright," promised Patroclese, "She seems to be over the worst of it. I'll take the responsibility."
"Well," Junius said uncertainly, and hesitated over unlocking the door.
"I'll be fine decurion. But if you're really worried, have a double squad stand by," Patroclese suggested.
Still troubled, Junius opened the cell door and allowed the healer in before swinging it quickly shut and locking it. Patroclese stood inside and paused as he took a deep breath. He was likely to be in trouble if the Warrior Princess hadn't regained her senses, but he felt fairly confident that whatever madness had gripped her had run it's course.
He approached her carefully, talking softly so he didn't come on her by surprise. He saw her stiffen, and work to control the silent wracking sobs that had been shaking her, as he came closer, "It's alright, Xena," he told her soothingly, "everything's going to be fine." He knelt cautiously beside her and slowly reached out a hand towards her, stopping as she jerked away, "C'mon, Xena," he almost crooned, "it's only me, I'm not going to hurt you."
Once again he reached towards her, noticing the involuntary flinch her body gave as he gently brushed the curtain of hair away from her eyes and revealed a window into a soul damned to be tortured for eternity. He almost cried out at the anguish and suffering that he saw there, before the heavy shutters came up and the icy blue gaze he was familiar with returned. Moving carefully, he helped her to sit up, noting that the chains, the guards had used to stop her thrashing, had dug deeply into her flesh and that her neck had been badly chafed by fighting against the restraint of the collar, "What, in the name of the God's, have you been doing to yourself?" he said softly.
She didn't reply, and he could see a slightly wild, hunted, look in the corner of her eyes. He examined her quickly, but carefully, helped by his accumulated knowledge of the woman's body gained through hours of patching up the damage inflicted upon it, "Nothing too serious," he smiled reassuringly, still keeping his tone soft. "A few more bruises and scrapes, nothing that a little salve won't fix up." He noted the broken leather belt restraint, - Gods, but she must have exerted some strength to break that, - he thought.
He watched her carefully as she drew in a long shuddering breath, "Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked gently.
She shook her head, - How can I possibly tell him about Callisto and what she was doing with my son? - she thought miserably. - How can I explain about the blood on my hands and the guilt that overwhelms me every time I sleep? - "No, Patroclese. I don't want to tell you," she said in a rasping voice that mocked her normally silky tones, "and you wouldn't really want to know."
"If I get those chains off of you, are you going to do something stupid?" he asked with a smile, knowing that whatever demons the dreams had raised were once more firmly locked up tight in her soul.
A bare quirk around her lips answered him, "No, I'm fine now," she told him quietly.
Patroclese stood and went back to Junius, "Give me the keys to the padlocks on those chains," he instructed, "I want them off of her before they do any more damage."
"Are you sure, healer?" questioned the young decurion, "I mean, if she's going to have another one of those fits, I'd as soon keep her under those restraints."
"It wasn't a fit," assured Patroclese, "Just a bad dream."
"Just a dream? I'd hate to be around her if she had a nightmare! Who's this Solan she was screaming about?"
"Her son," answered the healer shortly holding his hands out for the keys.
"She's got a son?" questioned the young officer as he handed over two of the four keys he held.
"Had a son. He was murdered by someone trying to hurt her," he told his fellow Roman grimly, "The boy was very young and didn't even know who his mother was. From what I understand, her guilt drove her to the brink of madness." He looked at the two keys and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You can unlock the ones from her legs and body, but the collar one stays in place, I won't put men more at risk than necessary," Junius told him.
"Fair enough," agreed Patroclese, "She's broken the belt, so you better send to the armoury for another one."
"Already done," assured the decurion.
"By the way, how much sleep did she get?"
"About four candlemarks, no more."
Patroclese crossed the cell once more and tried the first of the keys in the padlock that held the chain tight around Xena's legs, when it didn't fit he tried the second one and nodded to himself as the lock snapped open. He carefully unwrapped the heavy chain and discarded it behind him. Turning his attention to the one around her body, he made short work of the lock and quickly disposed of the chain.
Xena carefully flexed her muscles, using her relative freedom from the belt restraint to rub some life back into her numb arms, "Thanks," she said.
"Hold still while I get that belt off you," Patroclese instructed, as he deftly unbuckled the leather belt and examined the metal ring on the front that she had ripped apart, "That took some strength," he said carefully and saw her shrug unhappily.
"It's not always something that I can control," she admitted softly.
"Let me get something on that neck, and then I want to look at your back," he explained as he dug the salve he required from his medical bag.
"Take your time," she told him, "I'm not going anywhere."
- A pale attempt at humour, but at least an attempt, - he thought to himself as he gave her an encouraging smile.
He worked quickly and methodically, noting the dull aspect that had edged into her eyes, "You need to get some more sleep," he told her and saw the hunted look return before she took control.
She shook her head and replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Try," he insisted, "You need the rest." He saw the stubborn set to her jaw, and patted her arm sympathetically, "Are you hungry, thirsty?"
"I could use a little water," she admitted.
Patroclese went back to the door and spoke softly with Junius who headed into the guardroom to return a short while later with a large cup of water. Patroclese thanked him and took it back to Xena who drank the contents of the cup thirstily.
As she returned the cup to the healer, she tasted the tang of herbs in her mouth. Anger burning in her eyes, she grabbed the healer's coat and demanded, "What did you put in there?"
"Just something to help you sleep. You need the rest and those herbs should ensure that your slumber is dreamless." He watched as she struggled against the potent effects of the herbs, slowly falling back into the straw, her eyes closing as the powerful drugs overcame her resistance and joined forces with the exhaustion she was already struggling against.
Patroclese stood up and sighed heavily. It was going to be a long trip down to Massilia. Caesar intended to keep up his campaign to break down Xena's resistance so that by the time they got back to Rome she'd be more pliable and easier to handle. The healer doubted very much that it would ever happen.
The current pair stood stiffly and wore long suffering, patient, looks on their faces as they hoped their reliefs would arrive before their ruler decided that she needed to yell at someone again. Since they were the only one's to offer a likely target, with everyone else keeping their heads down and well away from the council chamber, they had taken more than their fair share of Ephiny's blistering tongue.
"How long before this state visit sets off?" hissed Calli, a young woman with mousy brown hair who had just been promoted into the Guard.
"Tomorrow," replied her older partner, Amantha, feelingly. "Hopefully she'll calm down once she gets on the road, otherwise I can foresee much misery for our sisters."
"I'm glad we're not going," muttered back Calli, who had gotten over her disappointment at not being chosen as part of the escort having been subjected to the Regent's bad temper during the past week.
"I can hear you muttering out there," came a thunderous voice from within the building, "If you two can't stand your guard as Amazon's should, perhaps you could both use some time in one of the outer villages digging up some weeds."
Amantha rolled her eyes theatrically, "Has she been taking lessons from the Warrior Princess?" she murmured to Calli and almost yelped as the door was flung open to reveal a scowling Ephiny.
"I heard that, Amantha," she snarled, her eyes sparking dangerously and giving ample warning that the Regent's temper was still full blown. She glared at the older Amazon who lowered her eyes and had the grace to look embarrassed at being caught out. "I want you two to get Eponin and Solari for me. You'll find them in the corral."
"Umm, we're not supposed to leave you unguarded you know, Eph," put in Amantha tentatively. The fact that she didn't really want to disturb the other two Amazon's who were rumoured to be sorting out some of their current differences .. strictly against the Regent's orders as she'd decreed that the pair should stay well away from each other .. was the only thing that gave her the courage to say anything.
"Ye Gods and Gorgons!" roared Ephiny, "Amantha, you and Calli get over to wherever they are and tell them to stop the fight right now and get back here to me, double quick, or I'll have them both hung out to dry and after they can join you out on the farm digging weeds until I get back!"
The pair took one look at the enraged Queen Regent and shot off faster than a speeding chakram heading for the corral behind the barn, where they knew that Solari and Eponin were 'sparring'.
"I don't think I'd want to be in their shoes," Calli told her friend as they sprinted along.
"At the moment, Calli, I'm not too keen on being in our shoes," commented Amantha wryly.
Ephiny glared around the town square of Themiscyra and had the satisfaction of seeing several curtains twitch as women pulled their heads back to avoid attracting their Ruler's dubious attention. Nodding her head in satisfaction, a scowling Ephiny, stalked back into the roomy, well appointed chamber that had one door and one large window at the rear .. furnished with some good rugs and comfortable chairs.. and made her way to her desk, sitting down with a thump on the cushioned seat.
She drummed her fingers on the table in nervous anger. Even after she had made her decision about who went and who stayed, Solari and Eponin had continued to bicker, finding things to niggle each other about, causing Ephiny, who was concerned and short tempered with worry about Gabrielle and Xena, to descend into a mood that had been likened, by more than one Amazon, to a bear with a mouth full of sore teeth.
The whole situation had gotten so bad, she had forbidden the pair to approach each other. The fact that they had disregarded her orders, over that, was bad enough, but to be so lax about it as to allow her to hear about their projected duel, was well out of order. She had enough to worry about without her two lieutenants acting like children and allowing Tarelle and her bunch to observe the whole sorry business.
That was how she'd found out about the 'sparring' match. Tarelle had taken great delight in revealing it to her at lunch, even telling her the time that it was due to start, which was how she knew when to judge to send Amantha and Calli off to round them up. Now she sat and waited, her temper at boiling point and she just knew that she was going to end up saying something to the pair that they were all going to regret.
Lost in her reverie, she almost didn't hear the soft creak of a floorboard behind her. Reacting with the ingrained instincts of a natural warrior, Ephiny flung herself out of her seat, executing a forward roll and came up ready to face her attacker as she heard the heavy thud of chobos smashing into the back of the chair she had just vacated. A quick glance took in all the relevant details. The woman was dressed in Amazon leathers, but her hair and features were hidden by a kind of hood that had eye holes and was drawn closed around the neck. Whoever the assassin was, she didn't intend to be recognised.
Ephiny braced herself for the attack that she knew was coming, watching the expert way that the chobos were flourished as the assassin stalked her intended prey. With a startling rapidity, the attacker swung a weapon towards the Regent's legs and, as Ephiny reacted, reversed her stroke hitting the blonde warrior hard in the stomach and heavily across the upper left arm with the second chobo.
Grunting with pain, Ephiny tried to back off from the assassin who stalked her intently across the room. The Regent threw a chair into the other woman's path, which the intruder neatly side-stepped and gave a low chuckle in response. Attempting to buy herself some time, Ephiny took a leaf out of Gabrielle's book and tried talking her way through this situation, "Who are you? What do you want?" she demanded, knowing that they were inane questions, but the bard always said it didn't matter how you got started, just find a way to make your enemy talk.
Another low chuckle was the only response she got, followed by a lightning quick attack, that Ephiny barely avoided by launching herself into another diving roll across the room. The move brought her close enough to where she had left a fighting staff leaning against a wall from a practice session a few days before. Heaving a sigh of relief, she grabbed the weapon and turned to face the assassin who backed off warily, knowing that facing an unarmed Regent was one thing, while being matched against an angry armed Regent was quite another.
Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, the woman, gave another low laugh and backed off before turning suddenly and diving out of the rear window that she'd entered the room by. Ephiny rushed after her and swept the area outside the window with angry brown eyes. There was no sign of the assassin to be seen.
The noise of the door opening behind her made her almost leap out of her skin as she whirled, with her staff at the ready, to take on any other would be attackers. She lowered it slowly as she realised that it was only Solari arriving, "Where's Eponin?" the Regent demanded with a snap in her voice that demanded an immediate answer from her lieutenant.
"How would I know, Eph?" returned the taller dark haired woman, calmly, "You ordered me to keep away from her, remember?" Her intent gaze took in the dishevelled look of her ruler and the unusually untidy condition of the chamber, "You wanna tell me what's up?" she asked quietly, "and why weren't Amantha and Calli at their posts?"
"I sent them to find you," Ephiny told her tensely. "I'd heard that you and Ep were going to try to knock each other senseless down in the corral."
"What!" yelled Solari, "and you believed it! What's more you left yourself unguarded! Eph, what's gotten in to you just lately?"
Ephiny looked at her guard commander in utter disbelief, "WHAT'S GOTTEN IN TO ME!" she shrieked, her anger, worry and recently inflicted fear all rising to push her into a roaring rage, "Not only do I have our pig headed, stubborn little Queen to worry myself sick over, along with her half mad, wholly dangerous and likely unstable champion, my two lieutenants have been snapping at each other like schoolgirls, and someone has just been in here ...," she swallowed and paused before adding in a softer tone, "... trying to take my head off with a damned set of chobos."
"What's all the screaming in here?" demanded Eponin as she shouldered her way into the council chamber past a dumb struck Solari, "Oh, hi Soli," she said quietly putting a little distance between herself and the guard commander before turning back to the Queen Regent, "What's up Ephiny?" she asked carefully, "Why did you send Amantha and Calli to find me?" she asked, gesturing to the two guards who stood just outside the open doorway.
"Because, I thought ..." she looked at her two expectant lieutenants and tried again, "Because I was told ... Oh Hade's armpits!" she cursed, "I was taken for a sucker is what," she told them as she ran her hands through her fair curls and winced at the pain that spasmed in her upper left arm.
"You're hurt," accused Eponin, moving over to Ephiny's side as Solari moved to the other.
"It's nothing," she assured them slapping away their anxious hands, "Just a bruise. There's nothing broken," she told them firmly.
"Who told you that we were supposed to be having a fight?" questioned Solari intently, drawing a questioning glance from Eponin. "We were supposed to be having a go at each other in the corral," she told the weapons master.
"Tarelle," admitted Ephiny.
"You think she set this up?" quizzed Eponin, her face turning grim.
A cough came from the doorway, "Ah, excuse me," broke in Amantha, "That fight was common knowledge. Anyone could have started the rumour. Tarelle might just have been gloating, or she could have instigated it," she pointed out carefully. "If she started the rumour, you can bet you'll never trace it back to her. She'll have covered her tracks pretty well."
"You two get in here," ordered Ephiny roughly, "and close that damned door behind you," she instructed, "We don't need everyone hearing this."
"Is this going to alter our plans?" asked Eponin as she seated herself on the desk and raised an eyebrow at Ephiny until she resumed her seat in her chair.
"No," the Regent said firmly, "It's important that we find Gabrielle and make sure she's safe, and the only place we're going to do that is in Rome." She sighed and wiped a hand across her forehead, "I don't think whoever it was intended to kill me, probably just hurt me enough to stop the embassy from leaving. If they'd wanted my death they'd have used something other than chobos."
"You're probably right," agreed Eponin. "A crossbow bolt would have done the job perfectly," she said eying the window. "Isn't it about time we put guards out there too?" she asked Solari, whose responsibility that was.
The guard commander looked as if she might argue the point with Eponin, but then sighed and shrugged before saying, "We tried that when Gabrielle was here the time before last, but she went ballistic and told me it was like being a prisoner. So for self defence, I removed the window guards, figuring that Xena would be around to take care of any problems. We never got around to replacing them. It was an oversight on my part and I'll take responsibility for what happened."
"Bit late for that now," grumped Eponin.
"Oh, hush," Ephiny told her quietly, "You two and this bickering is what gave them this opening in the first place. Now I want it ended here and now. There is to be no feud within my supporters." She looked at Solari, "Soli, I know that you're disappointed about not being able to go with us, but you really are the best person for the job here, and Ep is the best for the work we may have to do in Rome. So let's just stop all this niggling and make sure we've got everything settled before I leave in the morning." She wiped a tired hand over her brow, "You two," she said to Amantha and Calli, "go back to your posts. One of you take the door, while the other take the window for now, until we get the rosters changed."
Both bowed and intoned together, "As the Queen commands," grinning as they straightened up.
"Get out of here," smiled Ephiny in return.
Once they had left the room, the Regent turned to her two remaining companions and spoke clearly and calmly, "The burden of trying to solve who my attacker was is going to fall on you, Soli," she told the guard commander. "I very much doubt that it was Tarelle herself, although I can't be absolutely certain because she had a hood on. Don't be too obvious about it, but see what you can find out."
"Of course I will, Eph," assured the competent woman, "I don't take kindly to having the Queen attacked by one of our own, so if ... no when I find her, I'm going to make her wish she had gone straight to Tartarus in a bucket. It should give me something to occupy my time with while you're gone."
"Oh believe me, Soli, you'll have plenty of things to do," she assured her friend, "You won't believe the things that pile up if you don't attend to them each day." Ephiny turned her attention to Eponin, "You're going to have another problem," she told her.
"Tarelle?" the weapons master asked.
"If she was behind this, then she's going to cause us trouble in Rome, if not before we get there. I want her and her playmates watched carefully at all times. That's going to be your responsibility Eponin. Make sure that the people you use are fully loyal to us." the blonde regent instructed solemnly.
"I've got a dozen or so that I'd trust with our lives," nodded Eponin in confirmation.
"Yeah, but make sure that they can be trusted with Gabrielle's life too ... and Xena's if possible," pointed out Ephiny with concern evident in her voice.
"Don't worry over it too much, Eph," answered the dark haired Weapons Master, "We've handpicked the guard, except for Tarelle and her bunch. I'd trust all of them. They're loyal to Gabrielle and most of them have a respect for Xena, even if they're a little wary of her ... but then there are not many who aren't, are there?"
"Fine," acceded the Regent, "I'll leave that in your hands then. Well ladies, we better get to work, I want to be on the road at first light in the morning."
It was a long, hot tiring day, as Eponin pushed the pace hard. They didn't expect any trouble this close to home, but the scouts were sent out anyway, as a routine precaution and to ensure that everyone got used to being alert and ready for any trouble that might come their way. Amazon's were often feared and misrepresented in the areas surrounding their territories, and such a large, heavily armed band, passing through the lands was bound to attract attention .. likely unfriendly.
They made good time and were close to the edge of Amazon territory when they stopped to make camp for the night. Tarelle and her clique had been assigned kitchen duties .. Eponin was not about to entrust them with scouting missions, nor allow them out from under her eyes. The reluctant travellers weren't too keen on either being there, or the tasks they had been assigned, but under direct orders from the Queen Regent, there wasn't a lot that they could openly do about it.
The atmosphere within the encampment was generally happy and good natured with most of the Amazon's looking forward with eager anticipation to the delights and sights of Rome. Hardly any of them had travelled far from their own lands, partly because they never found the need, but mainly because their people were looked on with resentment and suspicion from others. This trip, then, was something of a thrill for the older hands as well as the younger woman who had been brought along for the experience.
The Amazon's were just settling down for the night's sleep, when one of the pickets came loping back into the camp, making straight for where Ephiny and Eponin were settling down.
"What's up Karrellie?" asked Eponin, sitting up on her sleeping furs.
"The forward patrol's come across a man camped at the border of our lands, they're bringing him in now. He says he knows the Queen. Both of them," she added.
"Does this man have a name?" questioned Ephiny with sharp interest.
"Soma passed the word that he was calling himself Hercules," supplied the picket, "They should be here almost any time."
"Okay, Karrellie," said the Weapons Master, throwing off her blanket and climbing to her feet just a moment after Ephiny, "go back to your post and make sure you keep your eyes peeled." Eponin threw a glance at the blonde Regent, "Do you know Hercules?" she asked.
"We've met," she admitted, "and he's a real good friend of Gabrielle's and more especially, Xena."
They waited impatiently for Soma and her patrol to bring the man they had found back to the camp. Most of the Amazon's were asleep by the time that the group reached the encampment, but those still awake watched with frank appreciation as a huge, well muscled man strode confidently into the camp surrounded by six Amazon's who looked faintly on edge.
As his gaze lighted upon Ephiny, the man's face broadened into a friendly smile and his blue eyes twinkled in delight. The Regent had to admit to herself that he was a handsome man. He moved with a confidence that gave him a natural grace, for all of his size, and yet he exuded a gentleness that seemed totally out of keeping with the prominent muscles he sported.
"Hello, Ephiny," he greeted, moving towards her and Eponin, "Or should I say Queen Ephiny?"
"Ephiny's fine, Hercules," she responded warmly, "What brings you to these parts?"
"I was looking for news of my friend, Iolaus," he explained. "I heard that an Amazon delivered a message to him while I was away, and that he rushed off on some mission somewhere. He's been gone weeks now, and no one seems to know where he is. Can you tell me anything?"
Eponin and Ephiny looked at each other before the Regent drew a deep breath and waved Soma and the patrol away, "Go send out a fresh patrol and then get yourselves something to eat." As they moved off Ephiny turned back and faced the demi-god and motioned him to sit, "Can I offer you something to eat or drink?" she asked politely.
"No, I'm fine," he assured her with a relaxed smile, "but I really would like to know what's going on. It's not often that over a hundred Amazon's are seen headed out of their territories, and I really would like to know what you can tell me about Iolaus."
A fire close by crackled and popped as a knot in the wood exploded in the heat, almost making them start at the unexpected noise that had filled the sudden silence. Ephiny took a breath and tried to work out where to start, "This is a long convoluted tale," she warned him, "and for it to make any sense, I'm going to have to go back a way."
Hercules nodded, "Well I'm not in any hurry to go anywhere tonight," he assured them, "Tell me your tale and let's see what I can make of it."
"Did you know about Xena's son, Solan?" the blonde Amazon asked intently, "because that's where this story starts."
"I've heard the stories," Hercules admitted, "I haven't seen Xena or Gabrielle since it happened."
Ephiny crossed her legs and rested her arms on her knees, making herself as comfortable as possible as she began her story, "I was there, at the Centaur conference," she explained, "You know my son, Xenan, is a centaur prince, grandson of Tyldus?"
"I know," smiled Hercules, "I hope he's well, he seemed a fine young boy."
"He's just great, he's staying with Tyldus for a while," smiled the Regent happy that Hercules remembered her son, "Well Xena and Gabrielle came and what you've heard is most likely true. Do you know Gabrielle's daughter, Hope?"
"Our paths have crossed," he said bleakly.
"Well, she freed Callisto and then the pair of them plotted the death of Solan, Xena's son. Gabrielle was caught in the middle. She didn't want to believe her daughter was evil, the instrument of her father Dahok, and her love blinded her to it. She placed Hope in a position where she was able to kill Solan and that betrayal destroyed something in Xena for a while. Yet even in her pain and suffering, she pulled off some kind of miracle by sealing Callisto up in the Ixion Caverns, while Gabrielle used poison to kill her daughter."
"Sounds like they both had a pretty rough time," came Hercules's sympathetic comment when Ephiny paused.
"It got worse!" came the blunt response, "The two left the centaur village as strangers, Gabrielle came back to Themiscyra with me and Xenan, and Xena disappeared, until she turned up a few days later doing major damage to some of my warriors, killing two ..."
"And breaking Eph's arm," butted in Eponin.
"... and dragged Gabrielle off behind a stolen horse .... Hercules, all the stories I'd ever heard about the bloodthirsty warlord, were nothing in comparison to what I saw in Xena's eyes that day," she shivered, "she was deadly and unstoppable and there was nothing any of us could do to prevent her from taking our Queen, knowing that she intended to kill her."
"What happened?" asked the big man gently as he saw the Regent lost in thought.
"I sent trackers to trail them, and followed on with as big a party of warriors as I could assemble. If we'd caught up to them, I think I would have had the archers just pump arrows into Xena until she was dead," Ephiny sighed taking a deep breath, "Xena was a friend, she'd saved my life and the life of my son, but that wasn't the Xena I had come to know." It was a painful thought, "Anyway, we lost them. Their trail just vanished at the top of a cliff above the sea. Something told me that they weren't dead, so I had strong watches kept throughout our territories. I knew that one day they'd come back, and that Xena would have to face Amazon justice."
Eponin stood up quietly and went and retrieved three cups of good, hot, herbal tea, insisting that Ephiny drink some before she continue with the story, "You don't want your voice giving out on you, do you your majesty?" she asked playfully.
"Cut it out Ep, I'm not a kid," growled the blonde.
"Humour me," insisted the dark haired Amazon.
"Thank you," accepted Hercules as Eponin handed a mug to him. He took a tentative sip, "This is good," he complimented.
Ephiny swallowed some of the tea down under Eponin's watchful gaze before going on with her narration, "They arrived back here about two moons or so ago. My guard commander, Solari, was out with a patrol and found them. She placed Xena in custody and escorted her, Gabrielle and a healer named Patroclese back to the town, but there was some trouble on the way back, some bounty hunters attacked and hacked up the patrol pretty badly. They were after Xena and Gabrielle and there would have been a slaughter if Xena hadn't held them off."
"Must be a pretty big reward to make bounty-hunters risk getting caught in Amazon territory," commented Hercules pointedly.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dinars for Xena and fifty thousand for Gabrielle, is what we've heard," supplied Eponin.
"Whew!" whistled Hercules in response, "Who wants them that bad?"
"Caesar!" Ephiny told him starkly.
"I'd heard that they'd been to Rome, and I know that Xena and Caesar have a history, but she must have done something to really make him mad." considered the soft spoken giant.
Ephiny nodded, before continuing with her story, "Charges had been laid against Xena's actions when she came and took Gabrielle, so we had to have a trial. The Elders pronounced a years banishment from Amazon territories for Xena and she left right after the pronouncement taking the healer with her and leaving Gabrielle with us. She wanted our Queen safe, while she drew off the bounty-hunters and had managed to get Gabrielle to agree to the plan."
Hercules smiled as he thought about the feisty bard, "That must have taken quite a bit of fast talking on Xena's part. Gabrielle can be really stubborn about being left sometimes."
"Don't I know it." grinned Ephiny, "Anyway, about five days after Xena left, that healer came back and told Gabrielle that Xena was heading into a trap in Narbonensis. She'd been asked for help from an old acquaintance and thought it might take the heat off if she left Greece for a while. Apparently, Caesar set the whole thing up and this healer heard some men discussing it in the village where Xena had left him. Gabrielle immediately decided that she had to try and warn Xena about the trap. She thought she might have time to get there ahead of her, because Xena was going to run the bounty-hunters over a good portion of Greece before leaving for Narbonensis." She swallowed down the last of the cooling tea and turned her brown eyes full on Hercules.
"Before she left she wrote three letters and asked me to have them delivered. One went to your friend Iolaus, the second went to Autolycus and the last was delivered to Xena's brother, Toris. I don't know what was in them, but obviously they asked those men for help. Gabrielle promised to write to me as soon as she got to Narbo. I haven't heard a thing from her. The reason that I'm sitting here talking to you is that I'm on my way to Rome on a State Visit. I think that's the only likely place that I'm going to find out what's happening to our Queen and Xena. I'm pretty sure they'll turn up there eventually. If Caesar had had them killed we'd have had news about it by now."
Ephiny looked at the demi-god in consideration, "It's likely that if Xena and Gabrielle end up in Rome, then your friend Iolaus and the others will turn up there as well. Do you want to come along with us and see what we find?"
Hercules considered the offer for a moment. What the Amazon Regent had said made sense and if Xena and Gabrielle were in trouble, Iolaus wouldn't be too far away, "Sure," he said with a slow smile, "I'd be glad to accompany you, though how you're going to explain a man being in an Amazon entourage I have no idea."
"We'll think of something," grinned Eponin mischievously.
She turned slowly looking for a way past the barrier.
The thought that she might be able to flip over it immediately produced a roaring increase
to the height of the flames that made the plan impossible.
She waited.
"Hello, Xena,"
came the expected voice,
"I see you came back to play,"
Callisto appeared before her,
"Do you remember how the flames destroyed my home?"
asked the goddess innocently as her brown eyes reflected the brightness of the flickering fire,
"Do you ever hear the screams of the people who died there?"
she offered Xena a smile which turned into a snarl of hatred,
"Listen to the screams of my Mother and Sister, Xena!"
she demanded and the fiery ring filled with the plaintive cries of a terrified woman and child.
"Listen to the cries of all those poor innocent people that you burned without a moment's
thought for the lives that you were snuffing out, for the souls of the living that you
destroyed."
The cries became louder and more numerous, buffeting at the dark warrior, who pressed her
hands tight over her ears in an attempt to mute the sounds that sickened and shrivelled her
soul.
"You can't block it out, pretty,"
Callisto whispered gently in her ear.
"Those cries are burned forever into you black heart. You gloried in them while you
committed your vicious destructions, and they're always going to be there to haunt you. You
will never be free of your sin."
She crumpled to the ground assaulted by the tormented voices that forever echoed through
her soul.
Silence ....
She waited ....
A hand gently brushed the hair from her eyes and she looked up into the smiling face of the
woman who had borne her, raised her and watched her turn into a cold, ruthless killer.
"Mother?"
she choked, unwilling to believe the tenderness that she saw in the woman's eyes,
"Why have you come?"
"Oh Xena,"
she said softly,
"Why would any mother come?"
she asked compassionately,
"I'm here to ease your suffering,"
she told her as she gently helped her daughter to her feet, then waved an arm to indicate
those who stood behind her,
"We've all come to ease your suffering,"
She looked and saw the crowds of faces that she had once known. Childhood friends,
kinsmen, villagers that had watched her grow up, and standing in front of them all, her
brothers: tall dark Toris, so like her in looks, and blonde smiling Lyceus, the brother she
had lost to Cortese's raiders, the brother whose death had frozen her heart. She frowned at
the hooded figure that stood with them familiar and yet unknown.
Her mouth lifted in a tentative smile as her mother stepped back into the ranks of the many,
"It's so good to see ..."
she began and then saw the smiling faces had become suddenly hostile. She looked
frantically from one face to the next and read only anger and hatred, she saw the rocks in
their hands and shot a pleading look at her family, only to see indifference in all their eyes,
"Lyceus!"
she whispered, as she felt the dagger of betrayal rip through her heart.
"No Gabrielle to save you this time, my sweet,"
smirked the insidious voice of Callisto from behind her,
"This time your loving family and home town will get to take their revenge on you."
Xena flinched as the first rock struck her arm, a rock thrown by her Mother and followed by
those thrown by her brothers.
She screamed!
Her anguish induced by the betrayal of those she loved and had tried to protect.
More of the heavy missiles slammed home, forcing her to try and protect herself with her
arms, until a rock hit her temple and she crashed to the ground, curling into a ball to make
a smaller target.
She floated in pain ...
She struggled to rise from the clinging torpor that held her tight.
Hanging from the cross, she looked down at the man she had allowed herself to love. The
man she trusted as a friend. The man that had betrayed her to an agonizing death, and
condemned her to a worse life.
"Break her legs,"
she heard him order as he turned away from her and she felt the heavy hammer blow that
crippled her body and shattered her soul.
"Aaaarrrrghhhh!"
she screamed out her agony as white heat radiated from her legs and throbbed in torment.
"Oh, Xena, Xena, Xena,"
purred a voice from behind her,
"were you ever so gullible? Did Caesar really have such an easy victory over you?"
teased Callisto as she let her fingers lightly filter through the warrior's long black hair.
Taking a strong grip on a handful, she yanked her prey's head back viciously and snarled,
"There's no one to save you this time, my sweet. M'Lila won't be coming to your rescue."
"Go to Tartarus, Callisto!"
gritted out the Warrior Princess through the cascading pain she felt.
"Been there, done that. Hades need to get the decorators in!"
came the quick reply followed by a,
"O my, Xena. Is that really anything to wish upon a friend?"
which she asked as she settled on the ground before her victim,
"Especially when it's so easy to hurt you here!"
She smiled sadistically running her hands over the broken bones of the shattered legs,
laughing in amusement as Xena cried out in agony at the touch.
"But perhaps it will be more fun to let the sea have you,"
she grinned as she indicated the rising tide that swept in an unstoppable rush up the beach.
Water dashed into her face as the waves roared towards her, she choked feebly ....
Xena shook her head to try and clear her mind and throw her long curtain of hair away from her face. As she fought to master the rage and terror that were the legacy from her dreams, she pushed herself back against the cell wall, desperate to establish who she was facing, her mind still cloudy from the drug Patroclese had used.
"Stand up , slave!" barked Flaccus.
She shook her head again, trying to push the fogginess away. The motion was taken as refusal to comply and drew an immediate reprisal in the form of heavy blows from batons that rained down towards her head and shoulders. She threw her arms over her head to protect it, and drew her legs in tight to her chest, trying to minimize the area available for damage.
As her arms came up the beating stopped and she felt hands grab her and pull her to her feet. She stood swaying shakily, securely held by two guards. Flaccus grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her head back roughly. Xena flinched as the memory of Callisto doing the same thing jumped fresh in her memory. Her eyes showed a haunted terror before she could control herself.
"You crippled six of my men, slave," snarled Flaccus, "I ought to have every inch of hide off your back and then some. You're damned lucky the general wants you in one piece."
"Oh yeah," she retorted fuzzily, "I'm really lucky to be here, aren't I?" a nervous chuckle escaped her before being silenced as Flaccus's fist crashed into her jaw, snapping her head sideways.
"I warned you about that smart mouth of yours, slave," he growled, "Keep your tongue between your teeth unless you want to lose it. Fighters don't need to be able to talk!"
The blow, though painful, had the beneficial effect of clearing her head from the last lingering effects of the drug. She drew herself up between her guards and looked Flaccus in the eye with just a hint of the icy fire, that burned within her, showing. She did refrain from saying anything, but he could see the defiance that lingered within her and Xena almost detected a grudging admiration in the senior centurion's grey eyes.
He held out his hand and one of the soldiers passed him a new leather belt complete with manacles that had been expertly rivetted into the thick leather making a far more sturdy form of restraint. The two guards holding her, moved her forward so that Flaccus could fasten the belt tight around her waist. Then he locked the new cuffs into place, before removing the old.
When he'd finished he told her curtly, "You'll be given some food. Eat it and make sure you drink. We're leaving here in less than a candlemark, and the general doesn't want you collapsing from starvation on the march."
Not waiting to hear Xena's compliance, Flaccus turned and stalked from the cell, leaving the guard detail to pass the food and water to the prisoner. Watching him go, Xena shivered in her cold, wet clothing. Released by the two soldiers, she sat down and took the food she was offered, eating ravenously. She tentatively sniffed at the contents of the water skin, but could detect no odours warning of drugs, so she swallowed thirstily and was prepared for them when they came to get her for the continuing journey down to Massilia.
Caesar knew that the healer wanted to speak to him about Xena and took his time with the papers while he debated with himself as to what tack he should take on this issue. He was well aware that, although the exhaustion was weakening her physically and mentally, it was allowing her control over herself to slip. She'd already managed to seriously injure fifteen of the best men he had whilst caught between the twilight world of dreams and consciousness and, he had to admit to himself, that he was becoming concerned that rather than breaking her, he was awakening the darkness within her that had earned her the title of Destroyer of Nations. He wasn't too sure that it was a good idea.
He looked up and saw that Patroclese was watching patiently, "Well," he asked, "what's bothering you?"
"Xena," answer the healer flatly. "My Lord, I know that you want to tame her, but I don't think what you're doing at the moment is going to work." He didn't add that he doubted anything would actually work in this case. "There's something in the woman that she keeps deeply suppressed. It's what makes her the fighter she is. It's a power that she taps into when the situation demands. But it's like a flow of lava. It has to be kept in tight channels, because should it get free it will swallow everything in it's path."
"Go on," encouraged Caesar, leaning back in his chair and steepled his fingers to let his chin rest upon them.
"By draining her mentally, first exhausting her and then allowing her to be claimed by nightmares in deep slumber, she is gradually losing her control over the dark force that drives her. You won't break her resistance to you this way, but you may well destroy her ability to resist her own dark side. If that should break free, it won't matter who you hold and threaten the life of, the person she becomes won't care, she'll just destroy anything and everything in her path ... starting with you, my Lord." finished up Patroclese softly.
Caesar remained silent for a long period of time. His thoughts had run pretty much along the lines that his physician's had taken. He wanted to dominate and break Xena. He would have liked to achieve his aim by the time that they reached Rome, which was why he had chosen this way to work on her. He did not want her to become totally uncontrollable, which was what was beginning to develop.
He knew that he had all the time he needed to break her. He admitted to himself that he had thought that it would be a long task to achieve his ends. Why spoil the sweet outcome with a haste that might ruin everything. Once he got her safely to Rome, he'd be able to use the bard and the others to force Xena's stubborn will to bend to his own. The exercise, might prove to be entertaining. - But, by the Gods, I want her to kneel before me and acknowledge me master, - his thoughts roared within him. - For now, though, I'll have to content myself with knowing that she is mine to dispose of as I please. -
He looked steadily at Patroclese, "What you have said makes sense. I had been thinking along those lines myself, anyway," he acknowledged. "Send Flaccus in to me when you leave. I think we'll put my slave back in her cage for a while. She can catch up on some sleep for the rest of this journey."
Patroclese bowed and backed up two paces then turned to leave the command tent, before being arrested by Caesar's voice, "Oh, Patroclese," he said thoughtfully, "I think perhaps you should give her something to make sure she does sleep. Even when she's been offered the chance to do so she's refused to close her eyes."
"She won't take anything, my Lord. She knows much about healing and herb lore and she is careful to check anything that is given to her now." answered the healer tonelessly.
Caesar smiled grimly, "If she won't take it willingly, I'll have her held down and force it into her. One way or another she will learn to obey."
"As my Lord commands," agreed Patroclese as he bowed once more and finally left the tent shaking his head as he went.
Patroclese remained patient as he tried to explain to her, "You need to sleep, Xena. You won't allow yourself to do so naturally, so you must ...."
"NO!" she repeated more forcefully as she turned haunted blue eyes on him that contained a barely suppressed fury.
The healer laid a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder, but she shrugged it off with a surge of muscle. He tried to make her understand once again, "Xena, unless you take this willingly, you're going to have it force fed to you. Flaccus has his orders ... all I'm trying to do is save you some trouble."
She looked at him sullenly as he raised the cup to her lips. She took a mouthful then shook her head violently, knocking the cup away and spilling the contents. The liquid she had in her mouth she sprayed out over Patroclese, "No," she hissed, "I won't face them again!"
Flaccus appeared by the healer's side and barked gruffly, "We've tried your way, man, now get me some more of that stuff so I can carry out my orders."
Unhappy with the situation, Patroclese did as he was instructed and produced another mug full of the brew. He saw Xena clench her teeth firmly shut as he handed the cup to Flaccus.
"Bring that funnel over here," the centurion commanded as he shot out a large right hand and squeezed the Warrior Princess's jaw until she was forced to open it. She attempted to struggle against the hold, but Flaccus was strong and had a firm grip.
Xena gagged as the funnel was forced into her mouth and Flaccus began to trickle the drug down her throat a little at a time, the position of the funnel forcing her to swallow or choke. As she felt the mixture flowing down into her stomach she had to force down the wail of despair that sought to escape from her. The thought of the nightmare images that awaited her caused her to tremble in dreaded anticipation. Inside her body quaked as she tried to fight off the mixture of herbs that drove her relentlessly towards the deep slumber that she was desperate to avoid.
"There's a good girl," grinned Flaccus as he removed his hand leaving stark finger marks and the faint beginning of bruises on her jaw. As the funnel was withdrawn, he patted her lightly on the cheek, "Sleep well, slave."
In full Warrior Princess mode, Xena pinned him with an icy blue stare and dropped her voice to a lower register before growling at him, "I have never been, nor ever will be, a 'good girl!'"
"How long will that put her out for, healer?" demanded Flaccus for once ignoring the woman's disrespectful words.
"At least twelve hours, possibly longer," Patroclese answered him, "Once she wakes up we'll get some food into her and then put her out again. After three doses of the stuff she should be over the exhaustion enough to be able to control her sleeping patterns and get her back to normal.
The men's voices began to fade in and out of focus as Xena fought to concentrate against falling into the insidious creeping darkness that waited to claim her and lacerate her soul. There was so many heinous deeds walled up inside her conscience, so many acts of violence, so many instances of ravaged innocence and goodness that she feared for her very sanity.
As Patroclese and Flaccus moved off into the night, Xena was claimed by the terrors of her darksoul and left to battle an unequal fight against everything that she was trying to atone for in her life.
She'd been awake for most of the day. The nightmares that she had experienced had been ghastly once more. Her cries and screams had echoed along the road they had travelled and filled the silence of the nights when they stopped, but she had survived and the grinding fatigue that had robbed her of control was gone.
The thought of sleeping still filled her with a nameless dread, but she had managed to edge herself into a light doze in the afternoon, while shut in the small cage, rousing herself when the black memories began to intrude upon her rest. It was an improvement, but sleep now held a terror that she shied away from.
As she sat quietly in the cell, she silently took stock of her situation. She was alive, although she really wondered if that was such a good thing. She was injury free, she didn't count the odd bruise that dappled her skin. They'd had no cause to beat her for three days and her normal magical recuperative powers had worked their usual miracle. She was fit, long days of walking had seen to that if nothing else, and she had, by some god's grace, clung to her fragile sanity.
On the down side of all of this was the fact that she was still held, as securely as ever, by Caesar. Gabrielle was a prisoner of her enemy and would be at his mercy once again when they reached Rome. Autolycus and Joxer had both been captured and would be used as hostages against her behaviour, and she had no idea what had happened to Iolaus and her brother, Toris. - Situation desperate, but not critical ... yet! - she told herself despondently.
She looked up as she heard movement in the guardroom beyond the cell door and saw Patroclese approaching with a plate and a wine skin. He waited while the cell door was opened and then entered and moved to where Xena sat on the wooden bench.
"Brought you some dinner," he offered her the plate and as her stomach grumbled traitorously she noted that the healer had brought a huge meal of steak and vegetables, all of which had been cut into bite sized pieces. He handed her the plate and a wooden spoon to eat with.
"Thanks," she said grudgingly as she took both with a faint rattle of chains as she moved. "What did I do to earn this?" she indicated the steak as she took a mouthful and relished the change of taste in her usual diet.
"Peace offering," grinned Patroclese, who sat down on the bench beside her. "I know this sleep thing has been hard on you, but you're through it now. I think I've convinced my Lord that it shouldn't be tried again," he tried to assure her.
"Thanks again," she told him flatly. She didn't want to be reminded of her nightmare trips into Tartarus, and she was reluctant to express gratitude to anyone in Caesar's camp. She ate hungrily, avoiding conversation, allowing Patroclese's words to wash over her seemingly unnoticed.
"We'll be in Massilia in three days," he told her watching her spoon the food up with a fixed attention, "We're going back to Rome with the fleet that's been out chasing the Carthaginians. It should be a swift passage with nothing but sea and weather to bother us. Once we're there, you'll probably get to see Gabrielle again," he ventured.
"Oh yeah!" agreed the Warrior Princess, looking up from her half empty plate and pinning him with a stern glare, "I can just bet what Caesar has in store for her when he gets us back together. Is the thought of that supposed to make me feel good?" she demanded of him.
The passionate intensity of her outburst left the healer speechless for a moment. He hadn't really thought that she was listening to him, - But then, - he reflected, - you can never take anything for granted about this woman. - "Erm ... no," he got out finally, "I was just ...."
"Yeah, I know," she growled, turning her attention back to her food.
Patroclese looked at her with a mixture of the sympathy and sorrow that she had aroused in him for many, many days. He would have liked to help both her and her friend, but his loyalty lay with Caesar and this woman was a murderer, - But the bard isn't. - His conscience told him. - I can do nothing to help either of them, - he told himself firmly, - Both have broken the law and Lord Caesar has shown mercy by condemning them to slavery rather than death! - He bit his lip as his conscience came back at him, - Keep telling yourself that for long enough and just maybe you'll convince yourself it's true! -
She handed him the plate and spoon in silence as he passed her the skin, "It's wine ... it's not drugged. You have my word," he told her.
She gave him that half quirk, lopsided, almost smile, before she unstoppered the wineskin and took a long draught from it, "It's good," she told him, taking a second swallow, before replacing the bung and handing it back to him.
"You had enough?" he asked in surprise.
"Getting drunk won't help my situation," she told him bluntly, "And I really don't think you want to see me drunk. It's not pretty or healthy ... if you know what I mean."
"Right," agreed the healer uncertainly, "Well get some rest, we'll be leaving early in the morning."
She nodded her assent and curled up on the bench once Patroclese had stood, her mind focusing on the three day trip to Massilia and then the voyage to Rome, - And Gabrielle - she thought as she slipped into a light doze.
The wood was fairly thick and verdant green under the summer sun. Their footsteps were muffled by the thick loam that lay heavily beneath the canopy of branches and their movements were cushioned by the springy earth. Under other circumstances, Gabrielle would have relished the beauty of their surroundings, but now, as she worried about just how close the pursuit was, she just tried to keep the two injured men moving as quickly as possible away from the danger.
"Where are we gonna head for?" asked Joxer, and he stumbled heavily again as his foot caught a root and his recurring dizziness nearly sent him sprawling .. and would have if Autolycus hadn't managed to grab him. "I don't know where we are and I know nothing about the geography of Italia, do either of you?"
Gabrielle looked at Autolycus and sighed when he shook his head, "None of us do, Joxer," she answered him calmly. "All we can do is find a town or village and try and get some bearings and some supplies."
"Where, exactly do you have in mind to head for?" asked the thief carefully, already guessing the answer with a sinking feeling.
"We've got to get to Rome," the bard told him as she helped support Joxer so they could quicken their pace a little.
"Now how did I know that you were going to say that," muttered Autolycus unhappily, "Gabrielle, don't you realise that Rome is full of soldiers and that our descriptions are likely to be plastered up and down this Gods forsaken country just as soon as Brutus gets his wits about him. Hera's toenails!" he swore, "it's like putting our heads into a lion's jaw."
"Hey that's not a bad metaphor," commented the smiling blonde brightly, "mind if I use it sometime?"
"Gabrielle ..." began the thief a serious rumble to his tone.
"Look, alright, I know, Autolycus," she answered with a sigh, "But I can't leave her in Caesar's hands. I've gotta find a way to get her free. It terrifies me to think what he's been doing to her all this time. By the time we were separated he'd already had her nearly beaten to death, left her to pick up infections in her wounds that nearly killed her and has got her fighting gladiators to win him money." She turned almost frantic green eyes on her friend, "I can't let her continue to suffer and as long as she thinks that Caesar still has me, she won't be able to free herself. He's turning her into an animal and I won't allow him to destroy all the hard work she's put in, all the pain she's endured for the last three years, as she'd tried to climb out of that pit he put her in before."
Her eyes flicked back to the course she was steering through the trees, "I know this is dangerous, Autolycus, far more dangerous than I have a right to ask you or Joxer to risk." She took a deep breath and continued, "So if you want to leave and find a ship back to Greece, I won't blame you."
The King of Thieves looked at the bard with a growing respect. The girl he'd first met when Xena 'introduced' herself had matured into a confident and able woman. "You've really thought this through?" he asked her, getting a nodded affirmation, "You know that they're gonna work out that we're headed for Rome?"
"Yeah ... " she began and then realised just what he'd said, "You're coming?" she asked with a delighted and relieved squeak that brought back the girl in her again.
"Well I could hardly let you go alone. "Xena'd carve me into little pieces with a blunt knife ..." he was stopped in his tracks as she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a ferocious hug. "Hey!" he demanded, "What's that for?"
"Just for being you. The nicest thief that I know." grinned the bard.
As Autolycus made embarrassed huffing noises, Joxer whined, "Hey, what about me? I'm coming along too!"
"I never had any doubts about that, Joxer," Gabrielle told him sweetly.
He puffed his chest out and said in his 'I'm being serious here guys' voice, "Well us warrior types know all about loyalty and sticking with friends to see our way through to the end." He turned his head and looked over to where the other two were walking, adding, "We know how to work out what's important in life. I can see the wood for the trees ...."
His voice tailed off suddenly as he walked directly into a very large, very solid oak tree that resisted the collision unmoving, and dumped Joxer rather suddenly onto his butt, leaving him in bewildered uncertainty about what exactly had just happened to him.
When they heard the crash of the collision and fall, Autolycus and Gabrielle turned back to find their companion staring in dazed amazement at the tree he'd just walked into, "Hey, who put that there?" he complained.
"We really haven't got time for this," muttered Autolycus as he turned back and hauled Joxer to his feet, "Listen log head," he told his companion tersely, "Just try to keep on your feet. We've got to slip away from here before Brutus manages to catch up to us, and you leaving a trail by damaging trees with that thick head of yours is not going to help us."
"I know that," snapped Joxer feeling insulted, "just tell those trees not to step in my way." He thought about what he'd said for a moment, "You know what I mean. If I just had my sword I'd hack a way through here no trouble." he boasted, pantomiming wild slashes with a blade, "Yeah, these overgrown blocks of firewood wouldn't stand a chance."
Autolycus rolled his eyes and got a firm grip on Joxer's leather jacket, "Come on, Knot head. We haven't got time for you delusions of hacking power," and dragged him off after Gabrielle, who was doing her best to smother the giggles that kept trying to creep up on her every time she thought about Joxer hitting a tree with his sword. She'd tried attacking trees with swords and staves, you didn't get very far, just smothered in bark chips.
Taking a firm hold on Joxer's other arm she ushered him along at a faster pace as she considered, that in all probability, the trees would probably have knocked lumps off of Joxer, - That would make him a chip off the old block. - she thought irreverently. She giggled and said, "C'mon, Chip," drawing bemused looks from both the object of her mirth and the thief, "Never mind she told them. Let's just get a move on."
They headed east as far as they could tell. Luck was with them as they stumbled across a fast running stream that gave them their first chance to drink since before the storm had hit the ship. All three made the most of it, thirstily swallowing as much as they could, filling their stomachs with the cool, sweet water, in the absence of food.
They decided to take a short rest there. It was close to midday and Gabrielle really did want to check Joxer's head wound and bathe it in some fresh water before they moved on. As the bard tended the nasty lump and cut, Autolycus left to scout around and see if he could find any berries for them to munch on. He left his friends to the accompaniment of Joxer's moans and griping.
"Ouch!" he grumbled as Gabrielle unwrapped the bandage, "That hurts," he protested.
"Don't be such a baby, Joxer," she reprimanded, "If you hold still this won't take long." she promised as she expertly unwrapped the bandage, washed it out in the river and used it to clean the cut that seemed to be healing fairly well.
As she gently wiped his brow, the wannabe warrior looked up into her misty green eyes and sighed contentedly, "That feels so good, Gabby," he grinned letting his mind drift off into a private world where the bard was all his.
"Joxer!" her sharp tone cut into his revery bringing him drifting back with a contented smile on his face.
"Yes, oh light of my life?" he murmured dreamily.
She twisted his ear hard, "Get your hand off of my butt!" she told him.
"Owwww!" he squealed as he was brought firmly back to reality, "Okay, okay. Sheesh, Gabby, I was almost asleep there," he told her moodily.
"I know," she smiled sweetly as she retied the bandage around his head, "That's the only reason that you've still got teeth."
"Umm! Right," he acknowledged, "Boy am I hungry," he announced trying to change the subject. Gabrielle's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly in protest at it's emptiness. "Did I miss something?" questioned Joxer, "Did you swallow a live bear while I wasn't watching?"
The bard gave him a fair imitation of the 'look' that Xena used to quell opposition, and she nodded in satisfaction as her patient held up his hands in surrender just as Autolycus returned with several pocketfuls of blackberries, "Best I could do," he shrugged as he shared them out.
"They're great," encouraged Gabrielle as she hungrily demolished her portion. "At least it's better than nothing," she told them as they finished eating.
"We gotta get going," advised Autolycus. We need to find somewhere to shelter before dark, and make sure that those soldiers haven't managed to hit our trail."
"We could head upstream for a while," suggested the bard, "it's going in the same direction that we are, and Xena says that it's real hard to track someone in a stream. We're just going to have to be careful when we get out."
"Sounds like a plan," agreed the thief, "You up for it?" he asked Joxer who was climbing to his feet.
"Sure," he agreed, "What have we got to lose?"
They headed upstream, pushing as fast as they could while trying to keep their feet from turning under them in the awkward conditions of the stream. It was far harder to travel this way, but they calculated that they had a big enough lead over Brutus's men to make it worth the risk .. especially if it hid their trail as they hoped.
- At least we're were close to a source of good water. - thought the bard as she splashed along doggedly. The day was hot and, although the thick canopy of leaves gave them ample shade, the heat made the wood steamy after the drenching from the storm. They were all grateful, in a way, for the cooling freshness of the stream even thought they were constantly attacked by vicious biting insects.
Gabrielle suffered worst from this insidious attack as more of her bare skin was exposed for easy access. She muttered imprecations and slapped vehemently at buzzing mosquitos as they attempted to feast upon her, "Guys," she said at length, "We're gonna have to climb outta here soon, or I'm going to scream."
They selected an exit where a stoney shelf had been exposed by the lower summer water level, and carefully picked their way across it before climbing up onto the bank. With luck they'd travelled far enough in the water to hide their trail, so that now they could make better time until they could leave the woods behind.
They pressed on and were surprised when they stumbled onto a woodcutters track less than a candlemark after leaving the stream, "Looks like we could be getting close to a village," grinned Autolycus, "I should be able to use my skills to good advantage there," he said happily as he flexed the fingers on his good right hand and shook his arm to loosen it up.
"Autolycus, no," protested Gabrielle. "The people who live in villages don't have much and they work hard for what they've got. It's the same all over the world. We can't just rob them."
"Gabrielle," the thief turned to her and gave her a serious look, "We have no money, no weapons, other than your stick, nothing to make traps for hunting with. We need water skins and food and probably a change of clothing for you as you stand out in that garb and we need to blend in with the locals. We really don't have a lot of choice about this."
She bit her lip, looking perplexed at the situation she perceived, "I could always go to the village inn and tell some stories," she offered, "I usually make enough dinars for Xena and I to get the supplies we need."
"Like I said," returned Autolycus slowly, "We really don't have a lot of choice," he turned and started along the track.
Gabrielle watched his retreating back before shaking her head and running after him, "Hey! What did you mean by that?" she asked.
"Oh c'mon, Gabrielle. Surely you realise that just one word of a female bard in this area is gonna draw soldiers down on us like bees to a honeypot," he told her tersely.
"So you're saying that stealing is the only option we've got?" she demanded flatly, angry at having failed to realise what the thief had pointed out.
"No," he admitted, "There's two other options. One: we can go on as we are and ultimately starve to death. And two: We can let ourselves be captured again. You decide which you'd prefer," he stopped and crossed his arms over his chest waiting for her decision.
"Hey guys," Joxer broke in trying to break the tension, "We could always try working for food. You know odd jobs, that kind of thing."
Two pairs of eyes turned towards him, looking at him as if he'd just crawled out from under a rock, "Shut up, Joxer!" they said in unison.
"Geeze!" mumbled the object of their joint ire, "What rock did you both sleep on?"
"Oh for ..." said the bard throwing her hands into the air, "Look Joxer, we haven't got time to stay in one place. We can't afford to be recognised either. Much as I hate to admit it, we're gonna have to do this Autolycus's way."
"I knew you'd see reason," acknowledged the thief, "If it's going to make you happier, we'll limit what we take from each individual. With luck, that way, they won't notice that anything's missing until we're well away from the area."
Gabrielle nodded reluctantly, "I don't like doing this," she told him firmly, "but if it's the only way ..."
"It is. Remember we're doing this for Xena," reassured Autolycus. "C'mon, we'd better get moving." He started up the trail with the others close to him as he said, "Listen. Here's how we're going to do this ...."
The hillsides were dotted with sheep and goats and they saw a few cows in lower pasture land, but it was evidently not cattle country. The trio trudged into the village, getting friendly waves from the natives who were used to travellers passing through. Gabrielle got a pensive look on her face, which forced Joxer to ask, "What's up Gabby?"
"I just don't like abusing the friendliness of people," muttered the bard.
"Gabrielle," Autolycus whispered sternly, "we've been all through this and you know that it's the only way."
"Yeah, yeah," she griped, "I don't have to like it though."
They drifted into the village as they had planned, and Autolycus moved on his way rounding up the things that Gabrielle had insisted that they needed. He worked the market, picking up a pair of waterskins from different traders with deft nimbleness, and pocketing a flint and striker from another. His next targets were a frying pan, a pair of cooking pots, and three knives, all acquired without any undue problems. It was an easy exercise for him even with a broken arm, and the challenge was negligible, but he relished it anyway. Gabrielle and Joxer took a seat on the edge of a water trough and waited for the periodic return of the King of Thieves as he deposited his treasure trove at their feet, "We'll need something to carry this in," Gabrielle hissed at him before he moved off into the crowded market once more.
"Umm, Gabrielle," murmured Joxer as he nudged the honey blonde in the ribs with his elbow, "Does that merchant look like he's taking too big an interest in Autolycus," he said pointing with his jaw.
The bard looked towards the man her friend was indicating and saw just what he meant, "I think we need to raise a distraction here," she muttered back to him.
"Like what?" demanded Joxer having no idea what kind of distraction the two of them were going to concoct between them.
Gabrielle took a quick look up and down the pathway they were sitting beside, "Stand up Joxer and step in front of me," she instructed. "Face the other way," she told him impatiently when he stood looking down at her.
"Well, alright, but I can't see as how this is going to help us," he complained.
"You will," promised Gabrielle with a smirk as she watched her target approaching. She flicked a glance towards where Autolycus was about to liberate a large pack from a leather merchant and hoped that the timing of this worked out just right, "Hold your arms out wide," she hissed to her friend.
"Gabrielle!" Joxer protested.
"Just do it, Joxer," she insisted as she got a firm grip on the water trough and watched the unwitting participants in her little ruse step into place.
Swiftly raising her foot she planted it with surprising force in Joxer's posterior, shoving him forward into an attractive older woman who was just passing them. The amateur warrior grasped convulsively at the woman to stop himself from falling to the ground and managed to grab something that he shouldn't have.
"What do you think you are playing at," demanded a shocked voice which was followed by a sharp slap as the woman hit Joxer squarely across the cheek with enough power to leave behind the reddened imprint of a hand.
Gabrielle noted that heads were beginning to turn in their direction, but the merchant hadn't yet heard the commotion and was still watching Autolycus. - The heat needs to be raised on this little shindig, - she decided.
Moving into the fray, the bard took a painful hold on Joxer's ear, Did my no account husband just assault you?" she asked politely, twisting the ear so that Joxer yelled balefully.
"Owwwww! ... Ouch! ... That hurts ... Takeiteasywillya!" he implored, "It was an accident .... aggghhhh!" he yelled at another painful twist.
They were collecting quite a gathering around them now, and Gabrielle was pleased to note that when the merchant turned around to see what was causing all the commotion, Autolycus slipped nimbly away.
The woman who had been assaulted flushed scarlet and replied stridently, He grabbed my ...."
"Oh he did, did he?" broke in Gabrielle sporting an angry glare which she threw at her 'husband'. "Out drinking all day, and now this. Just wait 'til I get you home, buster, I'll teach you a thing or two," she scolded relentlessly. "Don't you worry about him, ma'am," she turned back to the affronted woman, "I'll make him see the error of his ways."
She shoved Joxer back to the water trough where she found the pack for the newly acquired gear. Autolycus appeared at her side and shoved a heavy purse into her hands, "Go buy some food with this, it was easier to steal the money than it would have been to get the meat and vegetables," he told her.
"Did you know you were being watched by that merchant?" she asked in a hushed tone.
"Who do you think I took the purse from," he smirked.
"You're bad, Autolycus," she told him with a smile.
"Well that's a relief to know, I thought my reputation was slipping," he answered her. "Listen, thanks for the diversion, now I'll take the boy blunder and the gear and meet you on the edge of the village on the east road."
"Right," agreed Gabrielle. I'll get the last few things that we're going to need, then I think we'd better get as far from here as we can before these people start missing things."
"Be careful," he warned grabbing Joxer by the arm, as the wannabe hero continued to rub his sore his ear, and pushed him off down the road.
"You're getting to sound like Xena," she sniped back at him.
He gave her a good imitation of the 'look', raised eyebrow and all, before waving to her and, hustling Joxer into carrying the heavy pack, steered them into the still busy flow of traffic on the street. Gabrielle sighed, took a peek in the purse and let out a contented whistle as she thought of what she could buy with that.
Autolycus and Joxer were waiting with barely restrained impatience, knowing that the bard had a propensity for getting herself into trouble that was totally out of proportion to any other known living being. She heard them arguing as she approached.
"I tell ya Autolycus we ought to go back and find her. Letting Gabby loose in a market is asking for trouble," Joxer protested.
"Letting Gabrielle loose anywhere is a recipe for disaster," admitted the thief, "but it would look just too suspicious if we were to go back now. We'll just have to wait, but if she's not here by the time the sun sets ..."
"Hey! Isn't that her coming now?" interrupted his companion.
"You could be right, but what in Zeus' name has she been buying?" demanded Autolycus, "She was only supposed to pick up some food."
As she joined them she answered sweetly, "I thought of some other things we could use, and since I had the money, I thought that I might as well use it so that we can stay well clear of the other villages we come across. Too many people might remember us here and give Brutus too many clues as to where we went."
"She's got a point you know," agreed Joxer, as he helped the bard divest herself of the stores she'd purchased and began to divide the things up into three packs so that they shared the burden.
"Sheesh! Alright already!" protested the thief, "Can we just get out of here. The mere thought of Brutus catching up is enough to make my skin itch."
They each gathered up their packs and headed off into the gathering dusk, eager to be away from Cannetto and the danger that posed for them. As soon as they could they headed into the hills to find shelter, "I bought us a map," mentioned Gabrielle as they walked. "We should be able to work out a route to get us safely to Rome."
"I'll be happy if we can just find somewhere safe to sleep," returned Autolycus, "Is it me or has this been a very long day?"
"C'mon guys, don't worry. We're free, we're well provisioned, and we're gonna rescue Xena. Everything's gonna be alright!" Joxer exclaimed optimistically.
Gabrielle and Autolycus looked at each other and answered, "Right," drawing the word out pessimistically.
"I still think we should try to push on further," the bard protested as they wandered into the gloom.
"Gabrielle,"
"But we've got such a long way to go!" she insisted.
"Gabrielle!"
"I know ... we need sleep. You really are getting so like her, Autolycus. You sure that there's not a piece of her lurking around in you somewhere still?"
"I'm looking for two men and a woman," he announced in ringing tones. "The woman is small with honey blonde hair, green eyes, is scantily dressed and wears a slave collar around her neck. She goes by the name of Gabrielle and she is a talented bard. She is the property of Caesar. A runaway and there will be a reward of a thousand dinars for anyone who can lead me to her." The crowd stirred with greedy muttering as Brutus continued, "The two men with her also belong to Lord Caesar. The first man has black hair, brown eyes, a moustache and a goatee beard. He's a thief and a scoundrel. The second man has brown hair, brown eyes, he looks and acts like a fool. There's a reward of five hundred dinars each for these two. If anyone has seen them I want to know about it."
"They were here," growled the merchant that Autolycus had stolen the purse from, "That thief robbed me. We saw the girl and the other man too, but we didn't see a slave collar."
"She had it wrapped in cloth," a woman offered, "I thought it a little strange, but it just seemed like some piece of odd decoration,"
"Did anyone see where they went," demanded Brutus.
"They headed east on the road to Volaterrae," volunteered another man, "Are these slaves dangerous."
"They are," agreed Brutus - Though not for the reason you'd think, - he added to himself. "But Lord Caesar wants them back alive! If any of you sees them again, get word to me as quickly as you can, and remember there's a reward for their apprehension. If they're killed you get nothing except a flogging. Do I make myself clear?"
The villages understood and nodded their agreement, or voiced their ascent to Brutus's satisfaction.
The Optio Lucius approached him and asked, "What are your orders sir? Do we continue trailing them?"
Brutus thought about it for a moment, "No. Wherever they are heading for the moment, they are bound eventually to turn for Rome. I want to get between them and the city. Pick a man, find a horse and get a message sent up to Volaterrae. Put the garrison on alert and get them to send out patrols. Send some of those description flyers with the messenger so they know who to look for ... and you might as well include the description for the other two men. The way things are going they're likely to turn up here as well."
"Sir," saluted the Optio smartly and hurried off to carry out his orders.
Brutus knew that he could pull men from the garrisons to serve in this search and since the trio didn't know the countryside he felt he had a fair chance of picking them up once more. Once he got south of them he could put out a picket screen and net them as they tried to get through. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. He needed them safely back in his hands. He knew that he was too useful to Caesar for his commander to execute, but failure here would prove bad for his political aspirations.
She and Gabrielle had both sought to secure good relationships with their neighbours, hammering out treaties and trade agreements that were beneficial to both parties. It had been good to stabilize their position in the area. The Amazon Nation had been in decline for several years, with many small factions being split off from the leadership of Themiscyra. Slowly, with patience and diplomacy rather than war, the problem was being addressed and the Amazons now had a firm foundation on which to build for the future.
That was why it hurt to see the angry reactions of people that hadn't even seen an Amazon war party in over thirty years. As she thought about it, though, it brought a wry half smile to her face, - Is this how Xena feels every time she faces people who know her reputation from her warlord days? Even the Amazons, tend to treat her like some half mad animal, and for the most part she's only ever been a friend to us! - She shook her head guiltily at the thought.
Apart from some hostile attitudes, they also had to deal with the excitement and interest that the Amazon cortege drew. The vision of an exotic group of one hundred women passing through a village drew out young and old, male and female in profusion to watch the unheralded parade. The knowledge that it was the procession of the Amazon Queen gave the whole thing a sense of being something from a fairytale. To see a queen in progress was something that would give many of these simple people something to talk about for many moons to come, and would undoubtedly take it's place in folk-lore as something to pass down from generation to generation. It was a genuine rarity in the drab lives of so many humble villagers.
Hercules found himself pleasantly ignored for a change. All attention was focused on the Amazons, and they were such an unusual sight, that no one really noticed him. He did attract some envious stares from young men who, evidently, had made certain assumptions about his role there, but for the most part he was an almost anonymous personage.
On the third day, the big, tawny haired man, strolled along at the side of Ephiny, "We've spoken about how to explain my presence, we've talked about the possibility of all of our missing friends still being alive. What we haven't discussed is just what we're going to do when we get to Rome, or how we're going to manage to get everyone back out again."
"Ah," acknowledged the Regent vaguely, "I thought that it might be better to thrash that out on the ship, once we put to sea."
Hercules shot an inquiring look at her. He'd felt a tension within the Amazon camp and had narrowed it down to a group of women that everyone else seemed to be careful around, "Is there a problem?" he inquired carefully, not wishing to offend.
"Amazon internal politics," shrugged Ephiny, "you know how that can be."
"No, not really," admitted Hercules, "but I guess it's something you don't really want to talk about."
"Believe me," returned the blonde sourly, "you really don't want to know about it."
"Could it cause us a problem in Rome?" he asked, wanting to get some idea of how the ground stood.
"It shouldn't do. I've taken precautions that should prevent anything from getting out of hand," she saw the concern in the pale blue eyes of the demi-god and, placing a friendly hand on his arm, she told him, "I'll let you know if anything happens to endanger our situation from that source."
"I can't ask for more than that," he answered with a soft smile.
They walked along in silence for a while, listening to the banter from the Amazons who marched around them. Every now and then, Ephiny stole the chance to look at the son of Zeus, trying to evaluate him.
"Is there something you wanted to know?" he questioned finally, when the silence between them had stretched to an uncomfortable length.
Ephiny started guiltily as she realised her covert examination had been intercepted, "Well," she began hesitantly, "I've wondered for a long time now ... if you don't mind me asking ... just why did you spare Xena's life when she was still such a brutal warlord?" It was something she'd never been able to figure out, and she really was intrigued as to just what his answer would be. Hercules seemed to look far into the distance as his mind sorted through his memories of the time. He was silent for such a long time that, at first, Ephiny didn't think that he'd answer her, "You know, it was kind of an intrusive question," she said suddenly feeling a little tactless, "please forget it."
The big man sighed, "Usually I get Iolaus to deal with things like this. He knows all the details of my adventures and he likes to talk about them. But even if he was here I'd probably have to answer this one myself. It was a painful time for him, and I think it took him a while to forgive me for giving Xena the chance to redeem herself."
This of course pricked Ephiny's, and not a few of the nearby Amazon warrior's, interests. All any of them knew was the barest outline of the story that Xena's army had turned on her for sparing the life of a baby, put her through a gauntlet, and that she'd gone after Hercules to kill him to use that feat to regain control of her men. Even Gabrielle hadn't been able to pry many of the details loose from Xena, and those she had she tended to keep to herself.
However, feeling that she ought to make some effort in the direction of not wanting to pry, the Regent said, "If this is too personal ...."
The big man seemed to start a little before allowing a quirk of his lips and replying, "No. Not at all, at least it really is a story that should be known, as it shows the incredible strength of will that Xena truly has. I seriously doubt if she'd tell anyone what happened, or just what she had to go through to bring about the change in herself. Anyway, even without that, it will pass some time."
Ephiny nodded and noticed the eager breeze of muttered anticipation that ran through the Royal Guard that marched around her an Hercules. Ephiny was almost tempted to tell them to spread out a bit, but a glance at Hercules told her that he didn't seem to notice the avid interest being displayed by the women he was surrounded by.
"About three and a half years ago, Xena decided that she could enhance her reputation if she could kill me. She hatched a plan to that end that involved seducing Iolaus, turning him against me and then getting me to kill him. She hoped that, I'd be devastated over killing my best friend, so I'd then be an easy kill for her. The plan would have worked, except my friendship with Iolaus was too strong for either of us to harm the other. It rather soured Xena and Iolaus' relationship for a while." he explained.
"What?" questioned the blonde walking beside him, "You didn't mind that she meant to kill you?"
"Oh, I minded," he admitted, "but at the time I was far more interested in getting my best friend back in one piece."
Ephiny grinned, "I can understand that," she agreed. "So what happened to Xena?"
"When her plan fell apart, she took off with what remained of her men, and I didn't hear anything of her for a while. Then about three moons later, I met up with a young cousin of mine who told me about an army threatening the area he lived in. He asked for my help and I agreed to go with him. Iolaus had gone home to Corinth to visit my Mother and make sure she was safe. I also think it was an excuse for a fishing trip," he smiled as he thought about the blonde man's second favourite pastime.
"Anyway, the army that was rampaging around the Parthia area was butchering men and setting them up on crosses and wheels as examples to others. One man left a note in his own blood that it was a woman warrior who was responsible. I guessed it was Xena and was determined to stop her, but it wasn't until we came across a village in which every living thing, man, woman, child and animal, had been murdered, that I knew that I had to bring her to justice or kill her." There was a grim look on the big man's face as he remembered the horror of that devastated village and his certainty that Xena had been responsible for it.
Ephiny let out a low whistle, "You let her free after that?"
"Well actually Xena hadn't been with her army. She was off to the north with her scouts. It was her lieutenant, Darphus, who was responsible. Xena only returned in time to save the last living survivor ...."
"A baby," butted in the Regent nodding to herself, "which is why she was put through the gauntlet."
"Right," agreed Hercules, "You know it can't have been more than a day after she'd almost been beaten to death that she came after me. It was a close run thing and she almost ran me through before I got the upper hand and held that sword across her neck. I really don't think I'd like to face her fully fit as an enemy."
"What made you let her go at that point?" Ephiny almost demanded. After what Hercules had been describing it seemed incredible that the demi-god should just do an about face and release the Warrior Princess. Her mind was also full of the images of Xena storming into Themiscyra and sweeping through some of her best warriors as if they weren't there. She knew exactly what Hercules had meant about facing her at full fitness.
"I looked down into those incredible blue eyes of hers," he answered softly, "and I saw all the hurt, anguish and pain in the world. Here was a woman who should have been in a sick bed. She comes out and comes close to whipping me, when she really didn't have any right to being able to stand. And when I looked in her eyes, I didn't see some vicious warlord murderer. I saw a vulnerable woman, hurt, confused, with a goodness deep within her that was just waiting to be given a chance to flower."
The Regent swallowed loudly. The sensitive tone of Hercules's words told her something about his relationship with Xena that she was sure that he never meant her to know, "So you let her go?" she prompted.
"I was certain that if she was just shown a little trust, she'd be able to turn away from the dark path she'd been following for so long. I'm glad I've been proved right. She saved my butt from Darphus and his army. Since then, well the road hasn't been easy for her. People don't want to believe she's changed. It's easy for them to see her as Xena, Destroyer of Nations. She's been hurt and betrayed so often, I sometimes wonder how she has the courage to continue."
That last was said almost wistfully as the demi-god's thoughts once again focused on something far away, leaving Ephiny to feel slightly ashamed of herself and her Amazons who seemed to have reinforced that final thought with their recent actions. The thoughts were sobering and it left her wondering just how she would have coped with the trials of the Warrior Princess's life.
Even in this much reduced group, the Amazon's continued to attract attention. Attention that was much more insistent, now that it was faced by smaller numbers. On several occasions the warriors were jostled as they made their way through the still busy streets and down towards the harbour.
At one point, a group of drunken ruffians, coming out of a seedy tavern, made a grab at Ephiny and two of the other women, "C'mon, darlin'" a large ginger haired brute of a man cried, breathing the raw fumes of cheap alcohol into the blonde's face, "Lets you an' me have a party. Am'zons like to party," he belched at her.
"No thanks," the Regent declined politely, not looking to start a scene here. She threw some looks at her guards to discourage them from doing anything rash, and nodded in approval when she saw Tassi and Malonda trying the same tactics to discourage the men pawing at them.
"Wassa matta?" demanded Ginger belligerently, "Not good 'nough for you harlots? Thought ya liked ya men bit rough."
Ephiny tried again, pushing away the pawing hands as she told the man evenly, "Thanks for the offer, but we have a meeting to attend."
"No damn harlot's gonna say no t'me!" he growled, making another grab for the small blonde, only to find his hand intercepted by a much larger, stronger one.
Hercules squeezed his fingers together and saw the pain in the man's face suddenly help in the sobbering up process, "I believe the lady declined your offer," he said softly, "If I were you, I'd act like a gentleman and accept her decision."
Ginger gaped at the big man that was suddenly in his face. He shook his head trying to clear it and demanded, "Who d'ya think y'are ... Hercules!?"
"Funny you should mention it," he allowed a grin to appear, "Now be a good boy and take your friends home," he suggested. He glanced around and saw that they were beginning to attract a crowd of more drunkards as they rolled out of the tavern to look at what was causing the commotion.
The drunk man pulled away from Hercules and stood staring at him and the woman who had turned him down, "Don't like for'ners comin' in here an' acting snooty. Think we mi' jus' teach ya all a less'n. C'mon lads! get the harlots an' the big bastard!"
"Oh boy!" muttered Hercules as he was descended upon by half a dozen drunken louts, "doesn't anyone listen to reason anymore?" he asked rhetorically as he backhanded Ginger gently across the street ... about thirty feet or so.
"Amazons," called out Ephiny in a clear commanding voice, "no swords. Defence only!"
And then the fight was on. The twenty or so intoxicated roughs who piled into the fight weren't really any match for Hercules and eleven highly trained Amazons. In fact the son of Zeus was more than capable of taking care of the whole business on his own. However, the Amazons felt that since it was their honour that had been insulted, they didn't see why a man, even if he was Hercules, should have all the fun.
With a fist to the stomach of a tough who approached swinging, the man was bent double and Hercules swung over his back to deliver two solid kicks to the chins of a couple more of the would be fighters, dropping them out of the game. Grabbing the luckless man he was using as a leaning post, the big man swung him round and sent him crashing into half a dozen more of his accomplices.
While Hercules got to work on the bulk of the opposition, Ephiny and the Amazons worked their own brand of mayhem on those imprudent enough to get too close to them. Men fell to sharp painful jabs from fists and feet. These women were the elite members of the Queen's Guards and more than a match for almost any other fighter, with one or two notable exceptions, one being the man who was fighting on their side. Ephiny was no mean warrior herself and quite capable of holding her own in this type of street brawl.
It was all over in very little time with Hercules applying a light kick to a retreating backside that sent the staggering victim flying after his running companions, "They never learn," he declared as he brushed his hands together to remove the dust from the fight, "Shall we continue with what we came here to do?" he asked the Regent politely.
"Of course," smiled Ephiny regally, "Please lead the way," she grinned.
It didn't take them too long to find their way the wharf where 'Poseidon's Treasure' was berthed, and Ephiny had to strangle a cry of dismay as she saw the ship she had contracted laying alongside the dock with it's mast down and ships carpenters swarming all over the hull as they worked to repair whatever had happened.
She caught hold of the sleeve of a scurrying sailor and demanded, "Where's Captain Jurdis?"
"You'll find him on the quarterdeck, ma'am," came the hurried reply, "'Scuse me but I gotta get to the chandlers or the first mate'll have me hide."
While Ephiny was getting that information out of the sailor, Hercules spotted a familiar face further down the wharf, "Excuse me for a moment, Ephiny," he said to the distracted Regent who was trying to pick out the ships master, "I'll meet you back here in a short while. I've just seen an old ... friend who might just be able to help us."
"What?" asked Ephiny, having only heard part of what the man had said, but registered him moving purposefully away, "Oh, right," she answered, as she gathered up her guard and headed for the quarterdeck of the ship and the unlucky captain who was about to get a full taste of an irate Amazon Queen.
Hercules carefully shouldered his way along the busy dock, heading towards the striking woman who stood out like a beacon amongst the normal salts of the sea that congregated in the area. With his height and build he had little difficulty making his way through the press, as people seemed to move instinctively out of the way of the controlled power that he radiated.
Before he had travelled half of the distance towards his target, the dark skinned woman with flashing, mischievous eyes and a mane of wild black hair, turned towards him and flashed him a brilliant smile, "How's my favourite demi-god keeping," she greeted as he reached her at last, giving him a friendly hug, "and where's Curly?" she questioned.
"It's good to see you too, Nebula," smiled Hercules with sincerity, "and Iolaus is partly what I want to talk to you about."
"I see," she answered reflectively, "Do you want to come aboard? It's private on there, at the moment. I'm looking for a new crew."
"Well, if you listen to what I have to tell you, It might just be that I'll get you a paying crew for a while, and a chance for an adventure that might just appeal to your sense of ... nobility," he told her intriguingly.
"Well come aboard and weave your yarn," she invited. "I could always do with another favour owed to me by the Son of Zeus," she grinned sharply.
"Somehow I knew you'd say that," muttered Hercules as he climbed the gangplank and followed her down to her cabin.
"Make yourself comfortable," she invited him, gesturing towards a padded seat that ran around the cabin's stern. "Care for some wine?" she asked, pouring herself a glass then replaced the stopper at a shake from his head. She took an appreciative sip and smiled slowly as she said, "A donation from the King of Seriphos," she told him, "A good vintage and he had plenty more, so he won't miss it."
"I thought you weren't going to do that anymore," he chided.
"Now whatever gave you that idea?" she asked playfully, "Actually, that's why I need a new crew. We did so well on my last voyage that my men have made enough to retire on."
"And you?" asked the big man.
"I enjoy what I do too much," she admitted. "Now down to business. What is it that you want me to do, and just how much is it worth to me?"
"I need someone to take me and some friends to Rome." he replied keeping it simple.
"That's easy enough, but it doesn't tell me where I'm going to make my profit, or where my crew is coming from," she answered, now all business woman.
"Ah, well my friends will pay you well for your time and trouble, and they'll be delighted to act as your crew ... although they'll be a little green as few of them have ever been to sea before. But you won't have to worry about pirates," he smiled gently at that thought, "or anyone else attacking you ship as they're all very competent fighters."
"Warriors?" she asked and got his nodded answer, "Warriors don't tend to make good sea men," she said simply.
"Oh, I think you'll find that these particular warriors will manage all right," he informed her in an amused tone, "they've all got a very good head for heights, so the rigging won't be a problem, and I can always help out while they learn the ropes."
Nebula gave him a hard look, "All right Hercules, let's cut out the crap," she told him in no uncertain terms. "Just who are these friends of yours?"
He looked mildly at her and answered, "Ephiny, the ruling Amazon Queen and about a hundred of her warriors."
"Poseidon's good graces," breathed Nebula impressed, despite herself.
"Funny, I never really noticed that my Uncle had any 'good' graces" muttered Hercules, before saying to the sometimes pirate, "Well, what do you think?"
She looked at him considering and he could tell that she was working out just what questions she needed to ask before giving him an answer, "I think that you haven't yet told me what's going on, or where Curly is?" she answered him.
"Ah, I was kind of hoping that you'd wait until we were at sea before asking those questions," he suggested, playing for time.
"Not a chance. I don't risk 'Wave Dancer' unless I know just what I'm risking him against," she told him flatly.
"Him?" he ventured.
"We all have our preferences about our ships. Most masters are men, so call them her. I'm all wo..."
"Yes I've noticed," agreed Hercules, "and it's quite understandable when you put it like that."
"Now quit stalling and spill the info, or demi-god or not, you won't be sailing on my ship this time," Nebula told him bluntly.
"Right. Um, well we have to get to Rome, because some friends of our are probably in a bit of trouble there," he tried to keep it simple again.
"What friends and who's the trouble with?" inquired the woman as she took another appreciative sip from her glass of wine.
"Their names are Xena and Gabrielle," he told her neutrally.
She gave him a long look and finally said, "The Warrior Princess, Xena, and her bard, Gabrielle?" came her question with an arched eyebrow.
"Eeeyeah," he agreed.
"Okay," she said slowly wondering just how the big guy had become friends with a woman who was a murdering, ruthless, warlord ... and that being her good points. "What's the trouble that they're in?"
Hercules looked her in the eyes, "We're not sure," he held up his hand for silence as he continued, "We think that Caesar's got them and we don't know what he's planning to do with them."
"Oh great," she breathed heatedly, "You want me to risk trouble with him. Have you any idea what he does to pirates? No don't answer that," she told him quickly, "If you know Xena you know what Caesar is likely to do to me if he catches me."
"He's got to catch you first, Nebula. And all you'll actually be doing, this trip, is ferrying the Amazon Queen Regent and her entourage on a state visit to Rome," he told her calmly.
"All right, I can buy that you're a friend of Xena's ... you've got some really odd friends, by the way," she informed him.
"Tell me about it," he told her looking at her frankly with a humorous twinkle in his eye.
"Yeah, well that's as maybe, but just why are the Amazons going, and remember you've already told me that you're in this together," she said quickly.
"Well, actually," replied Hercules, "they're going to rescue their Queen."
Nebula shot him a sharp look, "I thought you said this Ephiny was queen. You trying to tell me that Xena's really Amazon Queen?"
"Ah, no," said the big man shaking his head to emphasise that, "Actually I said the Ephiny was Queen Regent, and it's not Xena who's the true Amazon Queen, but Gabrielle."
"Bacchus' Buttocks!" swore the pirate, earning herself an amused look from the blue eyes of her guest, "Okay, say I believe this fairytale, where does Curly come into all of this?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry I forgot that part," he grinned sheepishly, "Well Gabrielle sent him, and some other friends, letters asking for help. He hasn't been heard from for some time, so I'm beginning to get a bit worried about just what kind of trouble he's managed to get himself into."
"That'd be like him," laughed Nebula in a coolly melodious chime, "Alright, here's what I'll do. If you're Amazon friend can make this little trip worthwhile for me, I'll take you to Rome. I may even hang around and bring you home from there. I'd like to meet this Xena and I want to catch up with Curly."
Hercules stood, making sure to avoid banging his head on the low ceiling beams as he did so, "Thanks, Nebula." he accepted gratefully, "I'll bring Ephiny over so that we can get matters arranged."
"Remember, you'll owe me," she reminded him.
"Never forgot it for a moment," he answered with his slow smile.
The Regent was winding her temper up to frustrated rage as she remembered the Captain returning her retainer while she had asked him, "Do you know of another ship available to accommodate me and my people?"
"No ma'am," had come the seaman's prompt reply. "From what I was hearing down at the harbourmaster's earlier today, all honest ships are waiting to load cargo, and there's no new ships due in for at least the next few days."
She had nearly challenged him about what he had meant by 'honest' ships, but feeling her temper mounting, she decided to see what Hercules had to say, before traipsing around Acanthus looking for any vessel that might be able to get her to Rome, "Everything seems to be conspiring against me," she muttered under her breath as the wait grew protracted in length.
"I think that I may have an answer," said a strong voice close to her ear.
Ephiny had to use all her strength of will not to jump out of her skin, as she whirled around to face the big man who had managed to approach her so silently, "How did ...." she began before changing her mind and asking, "Never mind .. Have you found a replacement ship?"
"Maybe," he told her, "It'll depend upon how well you impress the captain and what you're willing to pay for passage," he began to turn away before adding, "Oh yeah, and how well you think your Amazons will take to being sailors."
"What?" demanded Ephiny as she watched him begin to move back in the direction she had come from.
"The captain needs a crew, part of the deal will be that your Amazons will sail the ship," he informed her.
She hurried after him, not wanting to lose him in the crowd, and was tailed by her guard, "But Amazon's don't know anything about sailing ships," she complained as she caught him by the arm.
"They'll learn," he assured her, "and this is about the only way I know that we'll be able to get a ship." He grinned, "C'mon, let me introduce you to a friend of mine. Her name's Nebula and she's a pirate."
"For a demi-god and a champion of justice, you do know the damnedest people," Ephiny told him, shaking her head at his retreating back.
"I heard that," he retorted, "Can you tell me why everybody keeps saying that to me?"
Ephiny winced a little at the dent that the cost of the passage had put into her treasury, but considering the likely danger they were heading into, she couldn't really blame the woman for insisting on such a high price. She'd actually been surprised that Nebula hadn't required more.
As soon as the deal was struck, the Amazon Queen had sent two of her guards back to Eponin with instructions to bring the rest of the sisters straight to the dock and onboard the 'Wave Dancer'. As soon as they were on board, Nebula began instructing them, with Hercules' help, on just how to sail a ship. Most of the Amazon's soon had the basics, being quick studies, and Nebula had seemed mildly surprised at just how swiftly they had picked up what she was trying to impart to them.
"Right," she had declared finally, "You've got the basics, you can pick up the rest on the voyage. Now since we have the chance of catching the evening tide, we might as well slip the ropes and head to sea," declared the captain.
- And that had been that, - meditated Ephiny, - After all the delays and problems, we're finally headed for Rome. Lets just hope we can find Gabrielle and Xena, and work something out to get them out of the fix they're no doubt in. -
"NO!" came a very firm, slightly angry bellow from below decks.
- What's gone wrong now? - thought Ephiny rolling her eyes slightly, though she thought she could probably guess the problem.
She headed for the companionway steps that led down into the cabin area of the ship, and made her way to where she could hear muffled laughter and far from happy grumbles. - I told Poni that he wouldn't like it, - she thought with a wry chuckle.
Opening the door to the main cabin, she found Hercules stripped of his usual attire and now wearing a lion skin loin cloth and some silver ownership bands, - Artemis alone knows where they found those, - she thought, although she guessed that Nebula might have provided them as she saw the smug appraising look that the pirate was giving the big man.
"What's the matter, Hercules?" she asked politely, "You know that you agreed to this part of the plan. It's the only way that we can really account for you being with us."
"Ephiny I don't mind the plan," he yelped as Eponin stuck out a hand to feel his muscular back, "It's just that I don't see why I can't wear my own clothes."
The Regent took a deep breath and looked at him patiently, "Because to play the part of the Queen's concubine, you've got to dress the part. And that means what you've got on."
"I still ...." he protested.
"Please Hercules," she said quietly, "It's the only way for it to work."
He gave her a long hard look, before issuing a heavy sigh and conceding with, "Alright. But you tell your ... Amazons! to keep their hands off me," he told her sternly.
Ephiny grinned and looked at her Weapons Master, "Poni, keep your hands off of him, alright. The same goes for all the others. Make sure you tell them that from me." A mischievous smirk popped onto her face, "After all, he's mine." she laughed as she ducked out of the door.
"Ephiny!" she heard his raised voice as she scurried, very un-regally back up to the deck and away from the demi-god's very voluble and loud protests.
Iolaus grinned at the merchant, "All right friend," he began in a mild tone, "How much do you want for all of this?" he waved his hand over the goods he had selected.
"Twenty five dinars," the man replied promptly.
"What!" Iolaus almost screeched, "I'm not trying to buy your whole inventory! I'll give you five and even that's blatant robbery!"
"Times are hard friend, costs are high, but I might be able to see myself coming down to say twenty dinar." he conceded.
The short man gave his adversary a hard look. He guessed that the merchant was charging extra because he recognised them as foreigners who would be unlikely to know the local prices. Iolaus considered his options. They didn't really want to have to wander through the town looking for another merchants, it would take long enough to find a horse trader, but he would if pressed to it. He glanced at Toris who stood unobtrusively by the door keeping an eye out for any trouble, however unlikely a prospect it might seem.
He focused his attention back on the merchant and decided that he really didn't like the ferret faced weasel who was trying to bilk them and set about destroying him in a hard bargaining session that finally got them their supplies for a much healthier nine dinars. "Friend," Iolaus offered as he handed over the money, "If you try to charge all strangers those prices, I'm surprised you've managed to stay in business."
The man gave him a sour look, "Nobody forced you to buy from me," he replied sententiously with a shrug added for good measure.
Gathering up their hard fought for purchases, Iolaus divided the supplies between his and Toris's packs, before the pair headed back onto the cobble laid dock road. It was, maybe, a candlemark after noon and so both knew they had to get finished in Pisse and head out if they wanted to make any progress in locating their missing friends.
"Do you want to look for a horse trader?" questioned Toris, who would far rather ride than walk if they were given the option.
"If they charge prices similar to our merchant friend in there, there's no way that we're going to be able to afford to buy them," Iolaus replied with a shake of his curly blonde hair. "Still I suppose that there's no harm in checking the possibility out. We might get lucky."
As they wandered further into the town, they asked directions from people they passed. At first the answers they got were vague, but as they got closer to their target, instructions became much fuller and soon they were standing in the yard of a well kept establishment with a sign above the door proclaiming that Maxis Terricus's Equine Emporium could be found here.
"A name like that's got to add fifty percent to the cost of the animals," grumped Iolaus.
"Well let's just ask," prompted Toris shaking his black hair out of his eyes. Both he and Iolaus had washed the colour out of the hair, but had decided to keep the beards. Once they were out in the wilds they wouldn't have time to play with dyes and so they had rid themselves of that part of their disguise, but opted to keep the face fungus as a concession to the need to remain careful. "Besides," Toris couldn't resist adding with a smirk, "I know you just love to haggle with these guys."
Sighing with the mock air of being so misunderstood, Iolaus banged on the door and called out, "Hey, is there anyone interested in selling horses in there?"
It took a few minutes to get an answer from within, and the banging on the door attracted attention that they really didn't need.
"Iolaus," hissed Toris when he saw an obviously off duty soldier glance their way, "People are staring to look at us."
The soldier was subjecting them to some fairly close scrutiny and seemed to be deciding whether or not he should come across the street to investigate, when the door to the Equine Emporium was suddenly jerked open, revealing a painfully thin, red faced man with bright orange hair. He was hastily shrugging into his tunic and both Toris and Iolaus heard soft female giggling from somewhere inside, "Yes, what do you want?" he asked somewhat testily as he pushed his shirt tail into his trousers.
"Oh, Maxi!" called a mischievous voice from inside the office, "Try not to be too long."
Toris and Iolaus grinned at each other and watched the flaming spread of embarrassment race up Maxi's neck. The flushed man stepped outside and closed the door quickly behind himself, "Ah, please excuse ... umm, err, ... what can I do for you?" he tried again lamely.
"We're looking for a couple of mounts," as the man's face turned a deeper shade of crimson, Iolaus berated himself for a poor choice of words.
Toris checked over his shoulder to see what the soldier was doing, and sighed in relief to find that he'd gone, - Probably just wondered what was taking Maxis so long to open the door, - he assured himself.
"Come with me to the stock yards and I'll show you what we've got," the trader told them, heading out across the yard.
The friends sauntered after Maxis ready to look over his stock and see if they could afford anything he had to offer.
"What kind of animals are you boys looking for?" asked the weedy man conversationally.
"Riding animals, for the right price," answered Iolaus.
Toris let the smaller man do the talking, knowing that he was nowhere near as good as Iolaus in the negotiating stakes. He was, however, a far better judge of horseflesh than the other man, and so it was he who looked over the available animals while Iolaus engaged Maxis in conversation.
There was plenty of choice in the stables, but the most likely looking pair were a deep chested bay that had a mean look in it's eye and showed whip marks on it's flank. It had obviously been misused and likely had a foul temper because of it. It wouldn't be a suitable mount for Iolaus, but Toris knew himself to be a better than average horseman and believed he could handle the animal. Besides, with it obviously being a difficult beast, they would probably be able to get it for a much reduced price.
There was also a sorrel mare. It was an ugly looking brute but it showed evidence of having strong legs and a feel of stamina about her. She also seemed to be gentle and would serve his shorter friend quite well. People so often looked for 'pretty' animals that those with less than perfect looks, were often undervalued.
As Toris rand his hands across the Sorrel's back and down her withers, he became aware of a sudden clattering in the street. Throwing a glance at the courtyard entrance, he saw a double file of armed garrison soldiers rounding the corner and heading straight for them.
"Iolaus!" he warned the blonde man who was deep in negotiation with the horse trader, "we've got trouble."
"There he is!" snarled the leading soldier, "Get the bastard!" he yelled pointing his sword in the direction of Toris's friend and Maxis.
The tall dark man drew his sword and set himself to meet the oncoming rush, noticing, from the corner of his eye, that Iolaus had pushed the thin man away from himself, though his own sword lay with their bundled belongings. Toris decided it was going to be up to him to delay the soldiers, while the blonde found something to defend himself with.
Moving forward at a run, the big, black haired man shoulder charged the first soldier in the line, catching him unaware by coming from behind the sorrel where he'd been partially concealed, and catapulted him into a collision with the man to his left and the two men directly behind them. The ensuing chaos was satisfactory, as the four men went down in a tangle of limbs, causing havoc amongst those running along behind them.
Toris grinned as further confusion was inflicted by a hail of horseshoes being thrown with unwavering accuracy, bombarding the struggling soldiers with a deluge of iron that was both painful and distracting. He didn't have long to be amused, however, as the men at the rear of the heaped mass, began to get around the blockage, and he soon found himself confronted by three angry looking legionaries.
Having run out of horseshoes, Iolaus grabbed a pitchfork and rushed forward to cut off two more soldiers that had got around their downed comrades. With quick hands and a deft touch, he poked the stump end of the tool into his first opponents gut, before sending him tumbling into the heaped mass in the centre of the yard. The second soldier came at him with sword raised for a downward stroke, but Iolaus blocked it with a horizontal presentation of his pitchfork, only to see the metal sheer through the wood, leaving him with just a couple of sticks. With a look of disgust he tossed them aside.
Always inventive, however, the blonde dropped to the ground, braced himself with his hands and swept the other man's feet out from under him, before springing to his feet and kicking his adversary alongside the temple, rendering him unconscious, then turned to see what else needed his attention.
Toris grinned to himself. At last he was getting a chance to fight against the people who were holding his sister ... well at least their men. With relish he engaged the three men before him, parrying their blows and returning them with strong quick strikes. Working with enthusiastic determination, the dark haired man disarmed one of his attackers with a flat bladed strike across his knuckles, before risking a backhanded left fist swing to slam into his victim's jaw, sending him spinning into a corner of the yard.
He suffered for that piece of over enthusiasm, when the one of the others raked his right arm with his sword, drawing a long shallow gash that stung, and bled alarmingly, but in no way hampered him. A feral light sprung awake in his eyes as he clashed his sword, in a two handed swipe against the blade of the man who had marked him, with a shuddering 'clang' that left the soldier staggering, allowing Toris the time to plant a heavy boot in the groin of the third man, who whimpered in agony and dropped his weapon. That gave the blue eyed man the freedom to dispose of the recovering last soldier, felling him with a straight thrust through the chest.
Iolaus had kept a careful eye on Xena's brother as he faced off against three soldiers. He'd never seen the man fight before, but he'd always got the impression that he wasn't very proficient at it. Admittedly, he was basing his assumptions on what Xena had said, and he was fast coming to the opinion that her unflattering remarks had not done this older brother of her's justice. Toris was far better than merely competent .. almost as good as he was himself with the sword (and Iolaus knew that he had a well earned reputation of being very good).
- Of course, - mused the short man idly, as he ducked a sword swing aimed at removing his head from his shoulders, - he's not as good as Xena. But then again who is!? - A round side kick to the ribs folded the soldier over so that he was able to deliver a double handed chop to his neck and throw his erstwhile opponent into the heaving pile on the ground, downing two soldiers, once more, who had almost extracted themselves from the mess.
He'd seen the feral glow light up the blue eyes that were so like the man's sibling's, and felt an uncanny shiver go through him. - Toris might not be the demon with a sword that Xena is, but there's no mistaking they're of the same blood. - he concluded, - I wonder if things had been a little different .. if he'd been as good as she is .. just how the world would have fared against the both of them? - It was not a comfortable thought and he deliberately shouldered it away into some far corner of his mind to be .. maybe .. discussed with Hercules some time in the future. For now, they needed to get clear of this mess before anymore of the garrison troops arrived on the scene.
"Toris!" the blonde shouted above the noise to attract his friends attention, ramming his elbow into a soldiers ribs as the man tried to get behind him.
"Iolaus?" came the questioning response, punctuated with a wide slash that forced back the two soldiers he was currently engaging.
"Let's get out of here, now!" suggested the little man as he bobbed up and down avoiding the wild sweeps of a sword that a soldier was aiming at him.
"With you!" agreed the big, dark, man as he hacked one soldiers shoulder, getting a grazed rib in return from the second man, before he had a chance to sweep his sword around to slice through the soldier's throat.
He leapt over the bodies grabbing up their gear as he heard the officer in the melee on the ground, "Those are two of the bastards that Lord Caesar is after! Forget the horse trader and get them! There's a big reward for their capture!"
- Oh, Ares' codpiece! - Iolaus silently cursed, - they weren't even after us! Probably didn't even know we were in Italia, now we'll have the whole bloody country looking for us! - He executed a forward roll to get him out of a tight situation, and pounded after Toris who had halted impatiently just outside of the courtyard, and flung Iolaus his pack and sword, before the pair launched into a breakneck run along the cobbled streets of the city, intent on losing their pursuers and getting out into the countryside without any more mishaps.
Toris carefully parted the reeds and peered out into the gloom of the darkling night. He listened intently trying to recognise if there was a soft buzz of words in the distance. After a long pause, he turned and whispered back, "I think so."
"Then let's get out of this ice bath before I freeze my ... assets off," returned the smaller man with feeling. "Who'd have believed that a river could be so cold in summer?"
"Mountain run off," pointed out Toris as he gestured vaguely to the east where they had seen the mountain spine lurking, before it got too dark to see anything, "Do you want to press on? The night's warm, and it'll give us a chance to dry out our clothes if we keep on the move, as well as putting some distance between us and them."
Iolaus bounced up and down, once he'd managed to struggle back onto dry land, trying to get some feeling back into his cold body, "I guess that's the best idea. We've got to head south, and they're gonna figure that out soon enough, if they haven't already."
"Agreed," acknowledged the dark haired man, "Gabrielle and the others must be between here and Rome and they're gonna be heading south as well. Xena'll turn up there eventually, and now that Caesar hasn't got Gabrielle to hold over her as a hostage, we might just be able to figure a way out of all of this."
"Sounds like a plan," grinned the small blonde, "Let's get moving before I turn into a popsicle."
Hefting their packs the two men headed south at a staggering run, that slowly smoothed out as their bodies warmed up. They made sure that they kept well clear of the road because they would make too visible a target on there, even if the going was easier. They tried to keep back just inside the woods that ran parallel to the road but about fifty feet away. The ground in between had been hacked clear to discourage bandits from setting up ambushes on the imperial highways, and left a wide swathe of clear ground making it possible to sight pursuers from some distance off.
Escape from Pisse had proven to be a close run thing, with Iolaus being scored alongside his ribs, at one point, by an arrow as they'd sprinted away from the city walls. Since then, they'd been playing cat and mouse with the search parties that were combing the area for them. They hadn't had time to stop and tend their injuries, they were, however, grateful that neither of them had managed to sustain a bad wound.
"You know," huffed Iolaus as he ran along trying to keep up with Toris's longer strides, "I'm really not used to this. It's usually Hercules and I doing the hunting, not the other way round."
"Really?" queried, the bigger man who was relaxing into his stride, grateful that there was a full moon so that they could judge their footing.
"Well, yeah," replied the blonde a little less certainly, "I'll admit that sometimes we have people coming after us, but usually we stay and fight it out. This running game feels unnatural."
"Yeah, well," returned Toris as he hurdled a fallen tree, "My sister always used to say that you should pick your fights carefully and, when in doubt, run like the harpies were on your tail!"
Iolaus chuckled imagining Xena saying that, "Sounds just like her. When did she tell you that? When you saw her during that business with Cortese last time?"
"Nah," he returned, "She used to tell the little kids in the village that when the bullies picked on them ... and then go and beat the stuffing out of the bullies for picking on the little ones. I guess she was about nine or so at the time."
The shorter blonde man shook his head in mock disbelief, "Was she precocious, or what?"
"Mother said we were all a little that way, it was just that Xena used to stand out from everyone else, so nobody noticed it so much with Lyceus and me." he explained as they thudded along the tree fringe, keeping to cover as much as possible.
"Used to stand out!? Toris, you could put your sister down into a room of a hundred women and she'd still stand out like a ruby in a pile of glass," Iolaus informed him.
"Nice image," grinned Toris. "You need to stop and walk for a bit?" he asked as he stretched out a hand to stop the shorter man from falling after he stumbled over a root.
"Sure .. it'll be good to get a breather," admitted Iolaus. "Besides, we'll keep going longer that way if we don't tire ourselves out by over-doing the running."
They proceeded in that way for most of the night. First they'd run some and then they'd walk, always keeping moving, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the search as they possibly could. They were very lucky not to turn or break an ankle, a possibility that was very much in their minds, but they were driven by necessity.
When the glow of false dawn began to show itself, Iolaus declared that it was time for them to find some place to hide up for the day. They struck deeper into the wooded margin seeking some secluded dell or maybe a cave in which they could rest and sleep. Following a dried creek bed, they finally found their way into a small, narrow valley, between two steep sided hills. At the back of the valley was a rocky depression which they were able to screen with bushes and so hide their presence.
As exhausted as they were, the pair took the time to tend, stich and bandage each other's wounds .. grateful for the small medical pouch that they had in their packs .. finally collapsing with fatigue onto their welcoming, though damp, blankets and feasting on journey bread and jerked meat, before wrapping the bedding around themselves and drifting off to sleep.
Well it wasn't worth crying over something he'd had no control of. The two men had escaped, but they were heading south into the heavy cordon that he'd already established to catch his escapees. With just a minimal amount of luck, all five of the pigeons would fall into his hand so that he could present them to Caesar as a personal gift.
"Make sure that all the watches and patrols stay alert!" he ordered his aide who had waited patiently for orders after the messenger had been dismissed, "I don't expect any of them to have reached this area yet, but I don't want any slackness. Let the men know that one man in five will receive twenty lashes, should our quarry slip past them, and that I'll give the men who take them a bonus of twenty gold dinars each. That should make them keen enough to find them."
"Sir," saluted the officer as he left Brutus's command tent.
With a need to conserve their limited food store, they did chance doing a little trapping during the daylight hours to supplement their supplies. They had too cook the rabbits, that they caught in their snares, over small fires made from tinder dry wood that gave off very little or no trace, as they couldn't afford to risk any smoke being seen. Fishing was out, because neither of them could afford to risk being out in the open for any length of time.
Still, they had managed, and were making good time as they pushed southwards, away from Pisse and past the towns of Rusellae and Populonia, moving in the margins between the 'Via Aurelia Vetus', which was the coast road, and the 'Via Clodia', further inland, and both which ran directly into Rome.
The further south they went they found increasing signs of soldiers patrolling the area and Iolaus, being an old hunter, recognised the signs enough to know that they were seeking to funnel the fugitives into a trap, "They know we're heading for Rome," he told Toris, when they heard the soldiers pass by and out of earshot of the bush that they'd taken refuge in.
"We've got to find a way past the guards," returned the bigger man quietly, "Once we get into Rome, we should be able to hide ourselves amongst the crowds of people."
"It's getting into Rome that's going to be the problem," Iolaus reminded him.
"There's got to be away to get through this cordon," insisted Toris urgently.
"Shhhhh!" hissed the smaller man, drawing him down as he picked up the sound of rustling leaves.
The pair remained silent as another heavily manned patrol moved past their hiding place. They kept very still and uttered no sound until they were certain that the Romans were long past. Both men let out soft sigh's of relief.
"I think we'd better head back north and find somewhere safe to wait out the day," he glanced up at the lightening sky, "We'll have to try and work out some way of slipping by them," he explained to Toris.
The dark man gave a slight nod of his head and they very carefully withdrew. They retraced their steps back the way they had come, taking infinite care to do so quietly. Having come so far, they had no intention of falling at the last hurdle if they could help it. As they worked their way up a steep gully, they could hear the sounds of softly jingling equipment somewhere not far behind them. Toris and Iolaus swapped worried glances, and moved forward at a faster rate, praying to any god that cared to listen to keep their movements quiet enough to avoid detection.
A noise ahead of them left them in little doubt that they were in trouble. They couldn't go back, they couldn't go forward and the sides of the gully were too steep to climb without making the kind of noise that would bring the patrols at the double. In frustration they looked at each other knowing that they were caught like rats in a trap.
Both men backed up against the wall of the gully and drew their swords, prepared to sell themselves dearly if they had to. The rocky wall behind them would protect them from attacks from the rear and, depending just how many men were in that patrol, they might even be able to fight their way clear of trouble.
As they braced themselves for the coming fight, both men suddenly felt hands being clamped around their mouths from behind, and their bodies hauled back into, and beyond, the face of the gully. "Shhhhh!" ordered a familiar voice.