Bored, discontent, moody and forced to keep her temper in check, Xena shifted within the cage, trying, with difficulty, to relieve cramped muscles that had been forced to maintain one position for far too long. Sullen irascibility marked her demeanor as she rested her head back against the bars behind her. The exhaustion that had plagued her, from Caesar's last attempt to break her will, was gone, although she still bore dark smudges beneath her lustrous blue eyes, giving her a vulnerable look that really was in stark contrast to her reputation.
The black shadows were a testament to the continuing torment by the residue of her nightmares. Images burned into her memory, waiting to torture her anew, were just a shallow handspan away, ready to haunt her should she slip too far into the dream brothers' realms. She closed her eyes shuttering the flicker of horror away from her watchdogs. Torment that she couldn't stop her eyes from showing even of the least horrific of the memories that lingered in her mind. - Windows to the soul, Gabrielle calls them, - she thought as she pictured her gentle bard's face, driving away some of the shadows that clung there, allowing the memory of her friend to act as a soothing balm on her lacerated, blackened, soul.
Forcing herself to relax, she allowed the rocking motion of the wagon to lull her into a half doze until the mid-afternoon when they reached the city of Massilia. As had become routine, the VIIth Legion set up camp outside the walls of the port, while Caesar led his personal guard, and the maniple assigned to watch over Xena, into the packed narrow streets of the city.
As they passed through the imposing western gate, the warrior could hear the excited pitch in the buzz of the gathering crowds. Here was a free spectacle to entertain the lives of the city folk. News of Caesar's entry attracted flocking crowds desperate to see their conquering hero. Loud cheers erupted at the head of the column as Caesar passed by, to be replaced by jeers and boos for the unknown savage shackled and caged like a dangerous beast.
Xena idly wondered if these people could have been any more hostile, even if they had known who she was. It had been many years since she had spent time raiding in Gaul and Narbonensis, but memories for such things ran deep, and she had little doubt that her name would have brought recognition. She didn't bother opening her eyes: jeering crowds were the same the whole world over and she had seen more than her fill of them. With the close proximity of the guards, and the narrow space between the bars of the cage, she had no fear that she would be pelted with the city's refuse. - Knew that they were useful for something! - she chuckled to herself as she thought of her six watchdogs sitting in exposed positions around her.
The column, wound through the streets and the disciplined tramp of marching feet on cobbled roads brought back memories of her own armies as they paraded through captured towns and cities. The only difference was the cheering. Her progress had always been marked by silence; the silence of defeated peoples who wore masks of hatred for their conqueror. They were not memories that she cherished.
She opened her eyes as she banished the images from the past and was faced by the imposing bulk of the garrison fortress as they rolled ever closer to it. Large and stone built, it bore the stamp of thorough, functional, Roman architecture. A soft sigh escaped her, which she hid by shifting her aching legs, as she realised they were yet another step closer to Rome.
Wincing as a muscle spasmed in her calf she told herself, - Be thankful for small things! At least, tonight, I'll be able to stretch in a proper cell. - she almost laughed derisively at that thought!
At Caesar's approached, the huge main gates were swung open to admit the procession. The maniple drew up in the large courtyard and Xena watched as the massive wooden gates swung closed, effectively sealing them off from the excited city, the populace of which continued to shout out their approval of the Emperor, until it became obvious that they would see him no more that day.
Through slitted eyes the warrior watched as Caesar was greeted by a man who was obviously the garrison commander. They seemed to know each other pretty well as they stood talking together for some time, before a look and a gesture was thrown in her direction, which brought a comment from the garrison commander, a smile and a salute.
- My accommodations being arranged, - she decided, - I wonder if I'll get a room with a view? - she thought whimsically, - Oh yeah! A view of yet another guardroom, no doubt! - she chuckled softly to herself, drawing startled looks from her guards.
Titus, the Junior Centurion, was assigned the honour of escorting Xena to her latest in a long line of cells, - Perhaps I should get Gabrielle to write 'A Guide to the Prisons and Cells of Narbonensis' - she mused still in her whimsical frame of mind.
A contingent of twenty guards stood ready to surround her once she was freed from the cage and the rest of the maniple waited in the courtyard, just to make certain she wasn't tempted to try an escape. She watched with little interest as the centurion leapt lightly onto the wagon and produced the key for her small prison. Using his strong wrists to good advantage, he turned the stiff key to snap open the heavy lock and then swung the door wide.
"Out!" he commanded, and waited for her to obey. It was routine. The orders, the guard, her 'obedience' had become a routine. She closed her eyes forcing herself to subdue the stubborn pride that so wanted to assert itself, to encourage her to rebel. "I said out!" Titus repeated .. his order being reinforced by a sharp jab in her back by one of her six baton wielding guards.
Her eyes opened fully. Fastening on Titus they burned with the naked desire to resist. Another harder prod was accompanied by a gruff voice that growled, "The Centurion said move!"
She gave serious consideration to defiance. She was so tired of having to control her desires, her wants, her needs, but a face floated into her conscious thoughts and she heard the bard's voice scolding her, "Xena, you promised! Don't give them another excuse to hurt you."
- Wrong time, wrong place, - she decided drawing a shuddering breath as she quelled the rebellion and forced it back into it's box. Sighing, the Warrior Princess forced cramped muscles to co-operate as she extracted herself from the cage. Once she began to move, she saw Titus stoop to retrieve the collar chain that had been left on the wagon bed floor when she'd been locked in that morning. She stood waiting, forcing herself to a semblance of docility as it was fastened to the band around her neck, and then shuffled forward at it's pull, dropping from the back of the wagon in a clatter of chains.
The centurion moved forward, drawing her after him, and the guard detail took up position around them. She had expected to be led towards the door that she had marked as the entrance to the dungeons, but instead found herself heading towards the west tower of the garrison. She hid her surprise at this change in procedure; not that it was difficult to hide her thoughts. Taciturn by nature, since she had been Caesar's captive she went days without speaking to anyone unless spoken to first.
She concentrated on keeping her balance and keeping pace with the soldiers, silently cursing the fact that they'd changed her leg irons back to a pair with shorter links since she had been travelling in the cage once more. - At least they let me keep my boots! - Stairs again became a problem for her, and there were a lot of them to negotiate. However, she was given the time she needed to make the climb safely to the top of the five storey tower, where she was taken to one of four rooms that occupied that floor.
A heavy iron door was swung open revealing a small room with two, narrow, arrow slit windows, a simple pallet bed supporting a mattress stuffed with straw and a single blanket. The pallet was close to one of the windows. Two torches lit the dim room, light being jealously warded from the cell by the narrowness of the embrasures. Nothing else furnished the room except a somewhat rusty iron ring that had been set into the wall above the cot.
Titus drew her over towards the bed where he quickly locked the chain to the ring, giving it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. With Xena's freedom, further contained, the centurion felt it safe to exit with the guards, leaving her alone within the cell.
It felt strange, she realised, to be free from continuous observation. For more than two moons she had been subjected to having her every movement, waking or sleeping, watched by at least six men. The sudden removal of this silent intrusion left her feeling almost edgy and vulnerable. Unsure of herself in a way that she had no real experience of.
It took he time to isolate those feelings and dispel them, but once she had it had felt so good to be alone at last .. and that led to the inevitable fear her normal six guardians would come through the cell door at any moment. So she remained standing where she'd been left beside the bed, waiting for them to return to take up residence, denying her the precious illusion of privacy and solitude.
She had no idea just how long she stood there.. her mind seemed to disengage, leaving her to soak in the wonderful feeling of seclusion that had been denied her for so long. Her mind dwelt on the relative punishments of solitary confinement and deprivation of privacy. Either could be a torment, but her nature would have coped better with the former rather than the latter. She was by nature a loner.
- Except Gabrielle stole that from me, - she conceded with a gentle smile. Her verbose young friend had broken through the walls she had painstakingly erected to keep her away from friendship and companionship, so that she was now at least willing to suffer the nearness of her friends. - That's a strange thought in itself, - she mused, - I don't think I ever believed that I, Xena of Amphipolis, Warrior Princess, Destroyer of Nations, would ever have a group of people who would deign to call me 'friend' -
Finally she awoke from her reverie and, satisfied that she would indeed be left alone, indulged her curiosity by shuffling across to the one window that the chain allowed her to reach, and looked out. - Well, well, - she chuckled, - a room with a view indeed! -
Although the slit was high and narrow, her own long frame allowed her command of the view below her, where a smaller person would have struggled to see anything but the sky. As it was, she had a bird's eye view of part of the city and all of the harbour where she saw and recognised a fleet of Roman triremes which lay at anchor there. She counted fourteen of the big war galleys and a handful of the smaller biremes as well. - Transport for Caesar and his pet legion? - she considered, - Or are they here for some other purpose? -
She spent some time just gazing out of the narrow window, just enjoying the chance to observe a normal world, when hers had descended into the pits of Tartarus. In her current existence the chance to stop and watch, without being watched in turn, was something rare to be treasured. She lost all track of the time that she spent just breathing in the distant sights and sounds of people free to come and go as they pleased, but it eventually registered in her mind that she had become jealous of the ordinary people with the ordinary lives, that had been unpolluted by the depths of anger and hatred that consumed her.
She turned away from the outside world with a discontented growl. She jerked her wrists against the shackles that restrained them, feeling her frustration beginning to burn up within her once more. She loathed being confined, she hated the chains that limited her movement, the cells that held her penned in, the intrusive presence of guards watching her every move! It was intolerable!
All of her life she had tried to avoid the confines of four walls. She felt constrained and hemmed in after any length of time spent inside. Her Mother had often despaired of her wild daughter who preferred to spend the daylight hours out in the woods and meadows, and the night time down in the more open stables, when she could manage to slip away. That feeling of being crowded in by walls, was beginning to be more and more persistent and invasive.
By returning to the bed, Xena relaxed the chain on her collar. Without really thinking, the Warrior Princess took a firm grip on it. She doubted that she'd be able to break the chain as it was made to the same strong specifications as her manacles and leg irons, but the ring was old and rusty. She examined it critically. With just a little effort she should be able to pull it out of the wall, leaving her free to roam the entire twelve foot square space of the cell.
A little more freedom. A small act of defiance. Minor things to remind herself that she was Xena of Amphipolis and not some pet animal belonging to Julius Caesar! With anger and resentment guiding her thoughts and actions .. and a need to assert her individuality, Xena took a tight grasp on the chain, flexed her considerable might and, with a screech of shearing metal, the chain came loose as the rusted metal was torn apart.
Allowing herself a crooked smile of satisfaction, she swung her attention to the cell door as it crashed back against the outside wall and the guard started to bull their way into the room. Facing them, blue eyes smouldering with icy fire that sent chills of fear through her opponents, she gathered in the thick length of chain and started to swing it in a lazy figure of eight pattern before her. "BACK OFF!" she warned, her voice like cracked ice.
The soldiers hesitated in the doorway for a heartbeat before deciding that it wasn't worth the pain involved in trying to subdue her at this point. They edged back out of her space, slamming and locking the door behind themselves. Senses alert, Xena heard the optio in charge of the guard, send a message to inform his superiors of the situation.
The Warrior Princess nodded to herself. The man was happy enough to leave her alone until ordered to do otherwise, secure in the knowledge that she couldn't get out of the cell except through the heavily guarded door.
Xena sighed. It was a minor victory and would no doubt be paid for, but it was necessary for her to keep her spirit alive. She shuffled across the floor to the arrow slit that she hadn't been able to reach, and gazed out into the falling dusk. There wasn't much of a change in the view but, since she had probably earned a beating to see it she was determined to make the most of it.
She stood by the window until the darkness obscured everything from sight, before shrugging her shoulders and turning back to her pallet. She had expected Titus or Flaccus to come charging in within moments of receiving the optio's message. She wasn't sure whether or not she should be disappointed by the lack of response to her small rebellion. That was a thought that almost made her laugh, - Like some child misbehaving to get her parent's attention! - That was not an image that sat well with her, however, so she mentally snarled, - Well, I'm no child and I don't give a centaur's fart for any of the attention I get from Caesar and his lackeys. In fact the less attention the better! - she declared silently.
She eased herself onto her bed. An unexpected luxury if ever she'd seen one. It had been so long since she'd slept on any kind of real bed that she'd almost forgotten what one felt like. As she settled into the prickly straw mattress, her stomach gave a hollow growl and caused her to wonder if she'd get any food after her little display of ire.
As if summoned, she heard the bolts being withdrawn on the cell door and, as they fumbled with the key in the lock, she quickly stood, readying the chain to employ it against anyone seeking to use it to re-tether her to anything. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as the door was swung open, but the look softened as she saw Patroclese, carrying a water skin and a tray of food, being ushered in and the door closing behind him.
"Xena," he said carefully, watching her to see if she was exhibiting any signs of violence.
She eyed him warily before dropping her defensive stance and allowed him to approach her, "Been given the task of talking me into more passive behaviour?" she questioned, "Or have you just been told to bring in drugged food and water so that they won't have any trouble when they come in here after me?" she demanded suspiciously.
Patroclese put the tray and skin on the pallet and held up his hands placatingly, "You have my word that neither the food, nor the water has been tampered with in any way," he promised.
She gave him a long, cool, look before deciding to believe him ... somewhat. The healer had, after all, proven himself to be a friend of sorts, so long as she discounted his role in bringing her to this pass in the first place. Since that time he hadn't lied to her, so she had no reason to doubt his word. She would be cautious though. Drugs could have been administered without his knowledge.
Xena moved around the bed and sat down on it facing the cell door. She picked up the tray and placed it on her lap. The plate on it sported a large helping of what appeared to be roast pork, as well as generous amounts of carrots, peas and turnip. Noticing the lack of any cutlery to eat with, she used her fingers to lift a piece of the meat and nibbled it cautiously checking for odd tastes that would alert her to tampering.
Motioning Patroclese to sit beside her, the Warrior Princess quirked an eyebrow and asked him, "Not even a spoon this time?" a faint tinge of sarcasm creeping into her tone as she sampled each item on the tray, before deciding that it would be safe to eat.
"Um, I think that you're upsetting Lord Caesar and his officers. They really weren't happy with you breaking that chain free," he told her. "I had to do some fast talking to get you a meal instead of a double squad of soldiers coming in here to batter you into submission again. I didn't think it too good an idea to press for cutlery. They seemed to think you might use anything I brought for a weapon."
Xena concentrated on eating for a while before she said to the healer, "Well, you better make your pitch."
"I'm sorry?" asked Patroclese a little confused.
"They sent you in here to try and calm me down and talk me into more suitable, slave-like behaviour, right?" she took another mouthful as he nodded, "Well you better get on with it, then."
The healer looked at her in confusion, guilt and anger, "Xena why do you do this? It gains you nothing but trouble. You can't escape, and every time you pull off some stunt like this you take punishment." He stood up and started pacing out the distance in front of her, "You know, I've fixed your injuries up more times than I care to count. I don't think I've ever treated any patient for more wounds ..."
"Talk to your boss about it," she suggested cuttingly.
He turned to face her, "I want to know, Xena, why you persist in drawing down the brutal punishments you get?"
She gave him a considering glance, "Look, Patroclese, I've tried to explain it to you before, but I'll tell you once again. It keeps me alive .. here," she reiterated, tapping her fist over her heart twice, "and, more importantly, it let's the bastard know that he doesn't control me. He may hold me captive and in chains, but he cannot control my will, my being. I won't be 'tamed' by him or anyone else. I am a warrior, this is the only fight in town and I'll be damned to Tartarus again before I let him beat me!"
He stood looking her for a long time as she finished off the food and meticulously licked the juices off of her fingers. He threw up his hands in exasperation and declared, "You are so stubborn!"
"You're not the first person to mention that," she admitted with a touch of wry humour, "So what do they intend to do about me?"
"Nothing," he replied shortly, "We're leaving for Rome in the morning. You can't get out of this room, so they'll leave you alone for the night. But in the morning, they'll come in here mob handed if you show them the slightest sign of resistance." He gave her a quizzical look, "You're not going to provoke them in the morning, are you?"
She raised an arched eyebrow at him, before sipping experimentally at the water in the skin. Deciding that there were no foreign substances in there, she took four long swallows, before avoiding his question with a compliment, "Nice meal. How'd you manage to get me that instead of the normal swill?"
Knowing that he was being diverted, Patroclese, never-the-less, answered the question, "I convinced Lord Caesar that you'd already lost far too much weight. You're not going to be much use to him if you lose your conditioning and strength. If he insists on making you his personal gladiator, he needs to make sure that you get good, nourishing food, or he could lose you. And if he does that ..."
"He loses his hold on Verchinex," she finished for him, "Yeah, I know. Don't think that I haven't considered that," she told him with a grim look in her blue eyes.
Patroclese turned stern eyes upon her, "Don't even think about it, Xena," he warned, "You're no use to your friends and family if you're dead."
The grim look was still there, but she replied, "Don't worry about it. I'm not dumb enough to think that Caesar won't bother with taking out revenge against those I care for should I deprive him of my services in that manner," She looked, he noted, glumly resigned to the situation, "No, I'll play his little game for a while longer ... but I'll play it my way, not his!"
"Xena ..." there was almost a plea in his voice, "Xena ..."
"Don't worry about me," she repeated as she turned her heavenly, dangerous eyes upon him, "I'll survive ... and maybe I'll give Julius a taste of his own games," she added softly.
Recognising that he could do nothing to change the warrior's mind, Patroclese gathered the tray, but left Xena the water skin. Without another word he walked across to the iron door and banged on it, "I'm through," he called, "Let me out."
Xena watched as the door was opened and swung shut behind his retreating figure. The torches that lit the dark room, were beginning to gutter making eerie shadows leap and dance as they spluttered towards darkness. Laying back on the bed, she allowed her eyes to drift slowly shut and she slipped into the light sleep that could be thrown off the instant her senses detected danger.
She heard the bolts being drawn and the key turning in the lock, even though they seemed to be taking pains to accomplish this task as silently as possible. The door was swung back and four men, bearing torches, stepped over the threshold. The sudden brilliance that the flaming brands brought, dazzled the warrior momentarily, forcing her to squint against the violent harshness of the light. She forced her eyes to became accustomed to the brightness and immediately recognised that Caesar stood framed in the doorway, with the torch bearers having moved to the side.
Xena waited uneasily. If Caesar was there he no doubt intended to deliver some ultimatum that she was unlikely to appreciate. She remained silent, although she arched one eyebrow questioningly at him as she watched the flickering light dancing and reflecting on his burnished armour. - He looks ... good, - she admitted to herself grudgingly as she felt the subtle pull of attraction that Caesar seemed able to exert at will. - He knows the effect he has on women, - she acknowledged, - But I'll give myself to Ares before I ever allow myself to be fooled by him again! -
Caesar looked at the woman before him, silently appraising her as he had so often over the passing days since her captivity, - She's a half wild savage with a homicidal streak that makes her one of the most dangerous people living in this world, - he told himself coolly, - but she makes my blood burn like no other woman ever has! - he conceded reluctantly. - I may never break you, my sweet, but you'll never be free of me, and that in itself gives me dominance over you, O proud Warrior Princess. You are mine. One way or another, you will always be mine! -
They stood unmoving, silent in their contemplation of each other, locked in their private battle for control of the situation. A situation in which Caesar was always going to have the upper hand ... at least until some chance occurred that would allow the warrior to break his hold upon her. Finally, Caesar broke the silence and spoke, "Well, Xena. When are you going to learn proper obedience?"
A crooked twist to her lips accompanied her reply, "Why don't you come and teach me?" she invited as she hefted the chain. She knew Caesar wouldn't respond to her challenge, but it would rankle him that she knew he would avoid her invitation. As she saw the muscle in his right cheek twitch, she knew she had scored a point.
"I don't brawl with slaves, Xena. I have far better ways of handling them," he pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of the waiting guards who stood just behind him. "Now we can do this one of two ways. You can walk out here and behave in a suitably docile manner, in which case we'll overlook your ... temper tantrum of last night. Or ...." he left the sentence unfinished.
"Oh, c'mon Julius, don't leave the best part out," she chided mockingly, "Or what?"
"I've got a dozen men with dart bows out here who'll pump your body so full of Curamin that you won't wake up until we're half way to Rome, and leave you to the mercies of your nightmares!" he told her flatly, "Your choice."
The mocking look remained on her features as she responded, "Choices, choices," she breathed as though she were considering her options, "Well I'll tell you what, old friend," she shot him a malicious look, "Since you so want me to take a sea voyage with you ... it's been some years since we did that together," she reminded him, "I think I'll opt to stay awake for a while. I like to feel awake at sea .. you never know what opportunities might present themselves," she informed him using stately tones that created the illusion that she was indeed solely in charge of events.
Caesar scowled. The woman was infuriating. However much he knew himself to be master of this situation, she always seemed to find a way to make him appear to be the lackey. However, he had no intention of showing her or his men how frustrated she made him. Standing aside from the door, he made a sweeping gesture with his arm, inviting her out from the cell, "If you please?"
Xena shuffled out of the room into the crowded corridors where her guards awaited her along with the thick oak beam, the longer leg irons, and the various handling chains. While the changes to her restraints were made, Caesar disappeared down the stairway, his personal involvement with her finished for the time being.
Flaccus appeared in front of her and grabbed the chain close to the collar, pulling her forward, "Your getting off light for your actions yesterday, but let me make it as clear as I can, as you have obviously failed to understand my previous explanations." He nodded to the two men behind him who slammed their batons against the taught muscles at her shoulders, "Firstly, if any Roman tells you to jump, you jump."
Again the heavy wooden batons struck, this time on her lower back. She grunted, realising that these were fully swung blows, not held back in anyway, and designed to hurt as much as possible, "Secondly, you will not attempt any form of resistance to your masters."
Two more blows smashed into the back of her thighs, making her legs tremble with the pain they induced, a bare, soft groan escaped her, "Thirdly, you speak only when spoken to."
The batons crunched in behind her knees causing her to collapse forward onto them from the force of the blows, "Lastly, you will always act with suitable humility and respect when in the presence of Lord Caesar!"
He grabbed her chin and forced her head up to be met with chill blue eyes blazing with anger and indignation, "Learn the lessons, slave. We can administer punishment for far longer than your body can take it."
Xena shook her head free and with dogged determination, forced herself to stand once more in front of the Centurion. He gave her a long, considering look. Flaccus had been in the army for many years. He was a hard demanding officer and had worked his ways through the ranks of the legions to attain his present post. He'd seen many men come into the legions during that time. Some were eager soldiers who adapted easily to the harsh disciplines of the legionnaire's life. Others were like this slave, strong, full of arrogance and pride who had tried to buck the system, until the system ground resistance out of them. They had either become good soldiers, or had died in the making.
This woman was made of similar metal. She was physically and mentally strong. She had withstood all the rigours of physical and mental abuse that had been thrown at her and continued to resist to the full extent of her ability. Flaccus had never been faced with a man he could not break to the discipline of his station, but he thought that this slave might be the first to fully resist him. He wasn't sure whether he felt anger at an impending first failure, or admiration for the tenacity of the woman.
"Take her down to the courtyard, and wait for the others," he snapped at the twenty man unit assigned to the task for the morning.
The lead jerked her forward as Xena dwelt on his words, - Others? What Others? Gods, don't let them have taken Toris and Iolaus, - she prayed silently.
It was a difficult climb, going back down those steps. Her guards were not in a mood to accommodate her awkwardness and, even though she now wore the longer leg irons, she still stumbled, unbalanced by the beam restraining her arms, and would have crashed down a full flight of stone stairs if the press of bodies around her hadn't been so tight.
They finally made it out to the dark courtyard, where the rest of the guard maniple were assembling. She was pulled to a halt just away from the base of the tower, and she became aware of the rattle and clank of chains as maybe fifty men were lead out from the dungeon entrance to be detained on the opposite side of the yard from where she was being held.
- Poor bastards, - she thought with compassion and relief that she couldn't identify either Iolaus or Toris amongst them. She guessed that these men were destined to live out the rest of their existence chained to an oar in one of the Roman galleys out in the harbour. It was not an enviable life and, whatever they had done, no one deserved such a fate. - Well at least I know why I wasn't put into the dungeon yesterday, - she brooded, - the accommodation was already taken. -
The men wore an ankle cuff on the right leg and a chain connected each man to the next in a long line that was guarded by half a dozen garrison guards who looked bored and uninterested in their mundane task. Xena compared her own, highly efficient guards, the chains that loaded down her body and allowed herself a wry grin. She wasn't the only one to notice the difference. Men from the line of the condemned galley slaves whispered, nudged and pointed to each other as they became aware of the tall woman who stood in the midst of twenty men who watched her every move for the slightest twitch.
Finally Caesar, his staff and personal guards appeared and the whole procession formed up to make the march down to the harbour and the waiting ships. Caesar and his group led the way, followed by Flaccus and Xena with her attendant soldiers, - I've got more of a staff than he has, - she thought wryly. About half of the remaining soldiers from the maniple fell in behind these, before the luckless galley slaves were herded into line and backed up by the rest of the maniple.
The sun slowly began to push it's way over the horizon as they clattered along the cobbles of the harbour road. A few early risers watched them pass, many shook their heads at the sight of the chained men. No one spared a thought for the proud barbarian woman who marched along, her face a blank mask while she concentrated on keeping her balance on the uneven surface as the muscles in her legs screamed from the pounding they had received.
When they reached the docks, Xena could see that one of the large triremes had been warped in and secured to the wharf, while others had boats ferrying units of the VIIth legion out to them, - So Caesar's taking his pet Legion home. I wonder how Pompey is gonna feel about that? - she asked herself.
Xena studied the warship, while she and her escort waited for their embarkation orders. The ship was just over a hundred and eighty feet in length, she calculated, and had a beam of about twenty-eight feet. There were ports for three banks of oars on either side of the ship, suggesting that it could move very fast under the raw muscle power of the slaves chained to those oars. The prow sported a wicked looking curved ram, sheathed in bronze, designed to hole an enemy ship below the waterline, and sink her. There was a high, plain sternpost on the rear deck above the junior officer's cabins, while senior officer's accommodations were up at the prow of the ship downwind of the slave pits. The stench that came from the slave galley was indescribable.
One thick mast rose from the centre of the slave pit with a large sail that would be used to catch favourable winds and save the strength of the slaves for when either the wind dropped or battle was imminent. Triremes could manoeuvre more swiftly and with greater turning capacity under the power of the oars, than the fickle fortunes of the wind.
Xena watched as Caesar confidently mounted the gangplank followed by his staff and guard, and was greeted by an enthusiastic captain, who was happy to show his pleasure in having his illustrious passenger aboard. The Warrior Princess shook her head in disgust. One of the worst things about the Roman military system was that it provided a route into politics. That meant that every mother's son who held commissioned officers rank was, - Some fornicating arse-licker that's trying to ingratiate himself to the top of the tree, - she growled to herself. She had far more respect for the likes of Titus and Flaccus who had earned their promotions from the ranks, though they could proceed no further in the military hierarchy.
While the guard maniple stood vigilant around Xena, the condemned men were herded on board the big vessel by their shepherds. The warrior received many inquisitive looks as they were hustled past her, and she watched sympathetically as they hesitantly climbed aboard the ship and disappeared from sight as they were taken below into the slave pit.
Xena could hear the muffled sounds of chains being secured as the men were assigned places on the oar benches, and the heavy thud of hammers as chain ends were secured into the oak frame of the ship with heavy staples designed for the job. Whips cracked as slave masters made their presence felt and 'instructed' the new men in the realities of their existence, sounds that filled the wharf with the brutal realities of a galley slave's life.
She didn't bother keeping track of how long she was kept standing on the wharf, but the sun had raised significantly before Flaccus tugged on the chain to get her moving towards the ship. She moved her feet carefully, her bruised muscles had seized with standing still for so long and made walking a little treacherous. Once up on deck the wooden stake was removed giving her a little more freedom of movement.
She glanced around at the layout of the ship. The slave pit lay along the centre of the structure, with gratings covering a long length and more solid, wooden decks at the prow and stern ends, as well as along the maindeck edges. The prow also had a small raised deck used as a firing platform for archers during battle, while the stern had a far larger, raised, deck housing the wheel and giving assault troops somewhere to mass ready for boarding parties.
Caesar appeared by the stern deck rail and looked down on his slave, "I've arranged for you to get a little exercise, Xena. I know how much you've hated being cooped up while we travelled in Narbonensis, so I've arranged with Admiral Veranius to have you do a little light rowing," he smiled at the glare she threw him, "It should keep you out of trouble on our journey to Rome and, if this fair weather holds, the voyage should be quite pleasant."
He gave her an evil grin as she threw her guards hands off of her, "Oh, Xena," he called after her, "Try to behave yourself down there. The oarsmaster has something of a temper, I'm told, and I can hardly expect him to treat you any differently from any of the other slaves, now can I? ... even if you are my personal property." His malicious laugh followed her as Flaccus dragged her to towards the hatchway and she was prodded along by the batons of her guards.
There were wooden steps down into the slave pit and the warrior tackled them with difficulty as she bent her head to pass through the hatchway. The stench of the slaves intensified as she descended from the open deck, making her stomach churn in protest.
Once down the steps, she could see a raised walkway that ran centrally between the benches of rowers, both in front and behind of where the steps ended. The walkway was about four feet wide, and there were extension platforms built to allow the overseers to pass the steps and mast without mingling with the rowers.
The rowing benches were built on a three tier system, to accommodate the three banks of oars. Six men were seated on each bench and shackled to their oars. As Xena understood the system, three men would row while three would rest unless they were going into battle when all slaves would bend their backs to the oars.
The Oarsmaster gave her a long considering look as he took note of the heavy chains that decorated her wrists and ankles, "This one's trouble, I take it?" he growled to Flaccus.
"Make sure your men keep an eye on her at all times," the centurion advised, "It took a whole maniple to capture her, and if she gets free the Emperor will have everyone on this boat's hides," he warned.
"Where's she think she's going to go if she gets free from the pit?" asked the oarsmaster incredulously.
Flaccus gave him an amused look, "Having come to know the damn woman, she'd probably swim for shore ... and I'm not certain that I'd bet against her making it."
The muscular oarsmaster eyed the troublesome slave with hostility. She turned the full force of her icy blue glare on him, "What if she causes trouble down here?" he queried.
"Treat her like any other galley slave," Flaccus told him, "you've only got one stipulation and that is you can't kill her. She's Lord Caesar's personal property and any man that kills the bitch is going to be skinned alive and roasted over a slow fire. Understand?"
The oarsmaster nodded reluctantly, "Those shackles have gotta come off her, she can't row an oar in those."
"The leg irons can stay on .. once I get her boots .. she won't need them down here," Flaccus told him, "That belt can stay around her waist. If you have any trouble with her that you can't handle, lock her back into those restraints, and send for me. I'll take the collar chain with me." He looked hard at Xena, "She's got a smart mouth and hasn't learnt her place. Don't be afraid to use the whip on her, she can take anything you can dish out." He frowned at the warrior, "You gonna behave or do we have to get rough again?"
The warrior looked at him and said nothing, "Damn you slave," he growled with controlled exasperation, "Do we have to go through our conversation of this morning again?"
Xena's glance told her that all the guards were alert and ready, there wasn't really a lot she could do but submit, "No," she told him, holding out her wrists, "I won't give you any trouble," she conceded and then added the codicil in her mind, - For now! -
Flaccus unlocked the cuffs at her wrist, allowing the manacles to fall and settle at her waist. He gave her the key to the leg irons, "Take them off, get your boots off and then lock the shackles back on."
She took the key and gave him a wicked grin, but followed his instructions, handing her boots to him. He unlocked the chain from the collar and stepped aside as an overseer shoved her forward, further down the line of benches to where there was a spare seat on the end of a top tier bench.
Flaccus watched as Xena's wrists were locked into the manacles already secured to the oar. Once he was satisfied that she was secure, he gave one last word of warning to the oarsmaster, "She is about the most complete and deadly fighter I have ever seen, don't take any chances with her, and remember, any trouble, you send someone for me, hear?"
"Understood," agreed the oarsmaster as he watched Flaccus leave. "Urminus," he barked.
A six foot tall, solid slab of muscle moved along the walkway to his commander, "Aye Trassis?" he asked.
"I want you to give the woman a taste of what's in store for her if she causes any trouble here," he told him levelly, "then I want you to make sure that she remembers it throughout this trip. If she even looks like she's thinking about trouble, use the whip, understand?"
"Sure Trassis," Urminus replied with a grin. This was the kind of assignment he liked, he just hoped that the woman was stupid enough to prove troublesome. He made his way to where Xena sat passively on the bench. Without saying anything, he flicked his whip and slashed it across her shoulders, seeing her body jump to the bite, but noting that she uttered no cry of pain.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to pull her head around to face him, "That's just a touch of what you'll be getting if you prove to be the trouble that I expect," he promised.
She gave him a look of contempt, then spat full in his face, "That the best you can do?" she sneered disdainfully.
Using his not inconsiderable brute strength, he smashed her head forward into the heavy wood of the oar, causing darkness and light to flash in her brain as she struggled to stay conscious. She was 'helped' when another lash cracked across her back, jerking her back to full awareness with the pain, "You know, I might enjoy taming you," he told her.
"In your dreams," she growled at him, drawing a laugh from the hulking brute.
"Oh yes, this voyage could be fun." he chuckled.
Xena gave a tentative pull at the manacles holding her wrists and knew that she could break out of them any time that she had a mind too. Well if Urminus became too annoying, she'd give him a lesson in humility. For now, though, she'd go along with the rowing to work off some of the excess energy that had been forged during her confinement, that and the fact that it would give her lazy muscles a thorough workout.
Caesar sat relaxed in Admiral Veranius' sumptuous cabin that he'd appropriated for himself for the voyage to Rome. The chair that he lounged in was thickly padded and enjoyably comfortable. His inspection of the quarters had shown him that only the finest of furnishings found a home here, which meant he could look forward to a comfortable few days as they made the trip. He chuckled to himself at the thought of Xena in the slave pit, - Not the most desirable way to travel, - he congratulated himself for the idea. - Four days with some hard labour and harder discipline, won't do her any harm at all. One way or another she has got to learn not to cross my will! - There was a loud rap on the door that broke into his train of thoughts, "Come," he commanded.
Veranius gave a stiff salute and the broke into a friendly smile, "How do you like the cabin, Julius?" he questioned, taking the seat that Caesar waved him to.
"More than adequate for the few days to Rome, Marcus, my friend," he smiled in reply. "Have you settled my slave into her 'accommodations'?" he asked.
"Your Centurion, Flaccus?, saw that she was safely secured down there," the Admiral acknowledged, "Good man that," he mentioned recognising a thorough going professional when he saw one, "Would you care for some wine?" he asked as he rose from his chair and moved to the hanging wine cellar where he selected a stone bottle from the racks, "I can vouch for it's quality," he said with a wink, "It came from my own vineyards and is a very good vintage."
Caesar accepted the goblet that Veranius handed him and drank appreciatively of the golden wine, "It's as good as I remember," congratulated the noble as he watched his friend take his seat.
"Julius," the Admiral began hesitantly, "Are you sure that you want a woman slave down there. It's not a very healthy place and the slaves are treated more than harshly."
"Believe me, Marcus, that particular slave can endure anything that your men can throw at her for the few days it'll take to make the trip. Her strength is phenomenal, so much so that she is quite capable of manning one of your oars on her own. She is also incredibly deadly," he fingered the scar across his cheek.
"That's new," commented Veranius, taking a long look at the scar, "I intended to ask you about that,"
"A gift from Xena," acknowledged Caesar grimly.
"The slave? She's Xena?" asked the Admiral in concern, "Julius, do you really think it's wise leaving her down there? She could cause trouble. Surely it would be better to keep her in close confinement somewhere?"
Looking at his friend, Caesar shrugged, "That woman would cause trouble anywhere. Flaccus has warned your oarsmaster. It might not hurt for you to reinforce just how dangerous she is. Just make sure she's watched at all times, and work her hard. If she rows a double shift and then has one off we should be able to tire her out enough to keep her in hand."
"I'll see to it," agreed Veranius, uncomfortably.
Caesar took a long sip of his wine, "This really is excellent, Marcus," he complimented, turning his thoughts away from Xena and onto other matters, "Which route will we be taking?" he asked.
"I thought we could take the middle passage between Corsica and Sardinia. It's the shortest route, and I really need to be back on patrol as quickly as possible," explained the Admiral.
"So tell me, was your recent cruise successful?" asked Caesar idly.
An angry look fluttered across the Veranius' face, "No, by Neptune's trident, it wasn't," he growled. "The swine refused to stand and fight! I've been chasing them across the Mediterranean for weeks and as soon as I've dropped you and your men off in Rome, I'll be out after the bastards again," he grumbled, as he began to explain the current situation to Caesar.
All through the long first day, she had pulled at the oar. The fact that she pulled double shifts, gave the other men on the oar extra rest, for which they were grateful, but four candlemarks of hauling on an oar, with only two off, left Xena acutely aware that she was severely out of condition. Her long period of captivity and relative inactivity had allowed her muscles to slip from the supreme condition she normally maintained.
Nighttime had brought some respite as the fleet only travelled in darkness in urgent situations, otherwise they were content to ride out the night and continue from first light in the morning.
Xena had slept hunched over her oar. She was too tired to eat and only took the time to fill herself with water because she knew that she needed it. Her whole body ached and her back was a mass of welts beneath her shirt. It was fairly obvious that orders were to keep her too tired and in pain to even think about starting any trouble.
The following morning, the galley slaves were woken by the crack of whips in the air, and across the backs of those who didn't move quick enough for the liking of the overseers. Xena was expecting the stinging blow that fell across her shoulders, it wouldn't have mattered how quickly she responded, the lash would have fallen on her anyway. As the drummer began to beat out the rhythm for the speed, the great oars rose and dipped in unison, getting the ship underway. She began her four candlemark shift with silent fortitude, adding Urminus' name and face to a mental list of people that she owed debts to.
By midday, a thick fog had blown up out of nowhere shrouding the fleet in a solid blanket of white. No orders came for the rowers to be stopped, so the slaves continued to bend their backs into their task, moving with the slow cadence that the drum dictated. An eerie silence seemed to descend over everything, causing unease amongst the rowers who could feel an impending doom. Without warning the slave pit was thrown into turmoil and panic, as something hit the side of the ship, snapping the great oars like twigs and sending long thick splinters shearing through the enclosed space like death dealing scythes.
Amidst the groans of the injured and dying, the Warrior Princess could hear the trumpets calling both soldiers and sailors to battle. Deciding that she would never likely have a better chance to break free, and not liking the thought of being chained in the slave pit of a galley during a battle, Xena was just preparing to snap out of her shackles, when six men from the elite maniple clattered down the ladder from the deck and moved to her side.
"Thank the gods she wasn't killed," she heard the officer declare as he ordered her release from the oar. A look around the pit showed that other slaves had not been so lucky, "The emperor wants her somewhere a bit safer than this until we've taught the damned Carthaginians a lesson they won't soon forget."
Unlocked from the fetters that had held her to the oar, the chain was locked back to her collar and she was pulled roughly from the rowing bench as the drummer picked up the beat indicating that they were about to tackle an enemy ship.
Xena expected her guards to snap the manacles from the belt at her waist, around her wrists but, either in the poor light they failed to see them, or in the excitement of knowing the battle was about to be joined, their eagerness led them to neglect the elementary precaution and they failed to do so. Instead she was hurried towards the ladder and encouraged to climb by the man holding her 'leash' pulling hard for her to follow him. Having use of her hands made the climb fairly easy, and she emerged on deck to witness chaotic preparations for a sea fight.
"So long as we keep station with the fleet and maintain our current speed and direction, there's no real danger," Veranius told him, competently.
"How often do you have to travel like this?" questioned Caesar, uncomfortable at being so cut off from his surroundings.
"It's not something that occurs too often," admitted the Admiral turning to snap an order at the helmsman. As he turned back he added, "We're in deep water here, we're still some distance from the channel between the islands. We can afford to continue as we are at the moment. If the fog doesn't lift in four candlemarks are so, I'll send out an order to heave too for the night."
Sound had seemed peculiarly muffled and the men spoke in muted whispers as they went about their assigned tasks. The odd silence had Caesar straining to hear every little sound, every shift in the atmosphere around him. He felt vulnerable and out of control, neither of which he felt comfortable with. He also felt some vague sense of foreboding, as if something unwelcome was coming in his direction.
His overstrained ears picked up a sound somewhere off the port bow, "What was that?" he questioned Veranius.
Veranius strained to hear, and soon all could make out the sound of cracking timbers, clashing swords and the cry of injured and dying men, "Hard a starboard," yelled the Admiral as they saw the prow of a ship looming out of the gloom to their right.
The order no doubt saved the ship as the Carthaginian trireme, instead of ramming and holing the Roman galley, merely sheared across some of the oars, snapping them and setting up a fearful wailing as slaves were injured and killed below. As Veranius barked instructions and men prepared for battle, with trumpets blaring out orders, Caesar grabbed one of his junior officers and snapped, "Get down below and get Xena out of there. Take five men with you. Escort her to my Cabin and chain her to the ringbolt that holds the desk in place, then you and your men stay with her and make sure she stays put."
"Yes sir," acknowledged the optio, rushing swiftly to gather his men and headed down into the slave pit.
The optio tugged hard on her leash and started moving towards the stern and the door that lead to the officers cabins. Plans flashing through her mind, Xena allowed herself to be moved in that direction until she reached the place where she could execute her hastily conceived idea.
Grabbing the leash in both hands, she pulled back hard on the chain, unbalancing the optio and sending him sprawling to the deck releasing the chain as he fell. Not giving the other guards time to react, Xena emitted her ululating cry and flipped with unbelievable ease up onto the stern deck close to Caesar. The Roman turned just in time to find himself face to face with the Warrior Princess, who grabbed him round the waist and leaped over the stern railing, taking them both into the sea.
Swimming towards it was not easy, especially towing the unconscious Caesar behind her, but she managed. Hauling herself up onto the 'raft' was a time consuming process that took a lot of her reserves of strength, especially as she had to hold onto Caesar so that he didn't sink under the weight of his armour. Having pulled herself out of the water, she turned her attentions to her enemy, forcing herself to slowly hoist his dead weight over the lip of the raft and onto the safety of the planking. Finally succeeding with her task, she allowed herself to collapse and, breathing deeply, recover from her exertions.
She knew that she couldn't rest for too long. She needed to find a way to secure Caesar so that he couldn't cause her any problems. As she pushed herself up from her prone position her hands brushed against the manacles that hung from the leather belt. She grinned to herself, - Well, fair is fair, - she thought, as her hands reached behind her and struggled to released the three stiff buckles that strapped the belt in place.
Xena contemplated her captive, - The breast plate will have to go, - she decided, - in fact all the armour can go. I'd better see if he's got any weapons other than his sword, while I'm at it. -
Working quickly, expert fingers released the buckles and straps that secured the Roman's armour. She tossed it to the far end of the raft before removing his sword belt and throwing that after the metal plates. Her hands worked quickly checking for any daggers that might be secreted about his person, and she found two wicked looking stilettos, one in either of his boots. She removed those throwing them to stand quivering in the wood with the other things she'd taken from him. As a final thought she took his boots and heaved them into the sea and removed his shirt, - Let's see how he fares in the hot sun without some protection. - It was a rather malicious piece of petty vindictiveness, but Xena thought she had earned the right to so be.
Rolling Caesar onto his stomach, she passed the belt around him and pulled the buckles tight, as he started to shift and moan. Before he returned to full consciousness, she turned him over onto his back and snapped the cuffs in place around his wrists and then dragged him across to the truncated mast stump and propped him up against it, moving round behind him she leaned against the opposite side of the broken remnant of thick wood and, using the chain from her collar, she wound it around the mast stump, including Caesar's neck, and held it tight by wrapping it around her left forearm. She needed to get some long overdue rest, and she wanted him where she knew exactly where he was.
She took a long look around the fog shrouded horizon and estimated that the sun wouldn't burn off the cloud for some time yet. She set her internal clock to allow herself three candlemarks sleep, and ignoring the feeble sounds coming from her prisoner, she willed herself into a light doze, from which she could snap to full alertness at the slightest hint of something wrong.
As Caesar struggled back to consciousness, his mind kept replaying the disturbing moment when Xena had appeared before him, like some vengeance seeking demon, before carrying him over the ships rail and into the sea below. Then he'd been struggling in the water, his damned heavy armour threatening to pull him under. After that he remembered nothing.
His eyes flickered open and registered the wall of whiteness that still enshrouded them, and the soft waves that lifted and lapped at the edges of the raft that he seemed to be sitting on. He winced as a pain shot through his jaw and he attempted to lift a hand to massage it, only to find it brought up short by the manacles he wore. He jerked his wrists in frustration recognising the restraints, used to hold Xena, that he'd conceived himself.
Angrily, he tried to stand, only to be made instantly aware of the chain around his neck. He reached up with his fettered hands, and his questing fingers identified the heavy links that lay there. Fuming he struggled against the shackles that held him, knowing that it was a wasted effort, realising that he had nowhere near the strength to come anywhere close to breaking free of them. After all, they were designed and crafted to hold a woman with the reputed strength of ten men.
Calming himself, he allowed his eyes to roam over the raft, or what he could see of it. His eyes were immediately drawn to the pile made by his weapons and armour at the far end of the piece of wreckage, the twin daggers standing tantalisingly just out of the reach of his foot. He strained forward, muscles stretching as he tried to work his toes close enough to the handle of the nearest one to capture it.
"Don't even think about it!" advised a steely voice from behind him.
- Of course, she had to be here somewhere, - he berated himself, for forgetting about the woman. He relaxed and willed his voice to calmness as he asked, "So, now, what do you intend? The two of us alone in the middle of nowhere, you must have a plan for this?"
"What I plan is to get a little sleep, during which time you better keep still and quiet, or I might just decide that I'd prefer to watch you drown. Do I make myself clear?" she growled menacingly.
"Perfectly," agreed Caesar, "Just try not to forget that you friends, Gabrielle, Joxer and Autolycus, all are dependent upon my continuing health, for their continuing existence." He choked as the chain around his neck was jerked with a savage strength that cut off his breathing. After what seemed to him to be forever, the pressure was relaxed and he coughed and wheezed as he tried to draw air in through a tortured throat into a body starved of oxygen.
"It's not too wise to push my patience at the moment," she told him bluntly, "I've suffered your abuse for far too long, and it might just be worth the consequences to see you crawl before I slice you open like the pig you are."
Caesar's mind warred with itself as the logical half tried to assure him that Xena would never sacrifice her friends for personal vengeance upon him, while a very real fear screamed that she would. This was the woman, after all who had butchered countless thousands in her personal rampage of conquest. - What are the lives of 'friends' to someone such as her? - an insistent voice demanded of him.
Having given her enemy something to think about other than the proximity of the daggers, Xena settled down again for some much needed rest. She'd work out just what she intended to do with Caesar when she woke up.
She unwound the chain from where she'd anchored it on her arm and turned to get up. As soon as the resistance on the chain relaxed, Caesar scrambled towards where the knives stood held in the planking. Reaching with his right hand towards the handle of the dagger, a heavy foot stamped down on his wrist, "Aaarrrhh!" he cried as he heard the bone snap under the force of Xena's heel.
"Ah, ah, ahh!" she told him, as she plucked the stilettos out of the wood and tossed them with negligent expertise in her hands.
White faced, Caesar glared up at her. He slowly sat, cradling his fractured wrist as he did so, "By the gods Xena, you're going to suffer for this," he told her blackly.
"Oh right!" she snarled back, "What are you going to do to me that you haven't already done, Julius. Let's see, so far on the list you've had me crucified, broken my legs, had me beaten and whipped within an inch of my life, tried to break my will with mind games, used me to force a good man into an agreement that stinks of dishonour, threatened my friends, used me as a galley slave and ... oh yes, we shouldn't leave this out should we, betrayed my youthful love and trust, turning me into a monster who's only object in life was to kill!" She reeled off the catalogue with low menace, "No, Julius, I really don't think you can cause me any more suffering than you already have!"
He backed off under the intensity of her blazing blue eyes, not stopping until he felt the solid bulk of the broken mast behind him. Seeking to try and calm the highly volatile situation, he asked her in a more reasonable tone, "Just what do you think you can achieve by this?"
Xena kept an eye on him as she strapped his sword belt around her waist, threw one of the daggers over the side into the sea, and thrust the other into the belt. The armour she ignored. He wouldn't be able to use it as a weapon, and she didn't know if it would come in useful at some point. She curled up the neck chain and hung it over hilt of the sword - At least it won't drag on me so much that way, - she thought as she considered his question.
She gave him a hard look noting the way that his usual arrogant attitude slipped back on him like a mental cloak, "Maybe I won't gain anything out of this other than the satisfaction of making you squirm before I kill you ... And I can kill you, Julius. Over the years I've become very good at killing men. Then again," she grinned wolfishly as she saw him fighting the fear from showing in his eyes, "when the fighting's finished and the winner comes back looking for survivors, it just might be the Carthaginians who pick us up."
He gave her a searching, quizzical look, "What makes you think the men of Carthage will give you anything you want? You wear the collar of a slave, and under Carthaginian law you remain my slave, even if I'm taken by them."
She allowed the crooked half smile to play across her lips, never touching her eyes, "Laws are there to be broken. I have friends in Carthage, powerful friends who owe me a favour or two. I have little doubt that I'll be able to convince them to help me ... especially since I will have delivered you to them."
Caesar glared at her, as he weighed this piece of information for any flaws that he might be able to exploit. Seeing nothing he fell back to his previously prepared position, "Be very careful what you do, Xena, you're playing with the lives of your friends. When they die the guilt will be yours. You knew the situation, and you're playing with fire here. If I die, they die!"
The Warrior Princess laughed mirthlessly, "I have no intention of killing you, unless you force me to it. I'm certain that the Carthaginians will want to ransom you for concessions in land, trade and spheres of influence. I'm going to get the return of my friends tacked onto the ransom. Once they're out of your clutches I'll decide what to do about you."
"Just what, exactly, do you mean by that?" he questioned her suspiciously.
"I mean," she said as she slowly moved forward, her leg irons dragging heavily on the planking, "that I may just come after you for real, Julius. Especially if I think you intend to keep those bounties on mine and Gabrielle's heads."
"You honestly think you can get into Rome and past my security," he sneered contemptuously.
"I've done it before," she reminded him, "Only this time you won't know I'm there until you feel my steel in your guts."
"You mean my back, don't you?" he taunted, "That's how assassins work!" he sneered again.
"I'm not an assassin," she reminded him, "and I want to see into your eyes when I yank out your guts. It'll take you a long while to die from a wound like that. Maybe days. And I know no one who can heal such a wound. Oh, yes, I definitely want to see your eyes when I do that to you." she said as she put out a hand to lightly brush the scar she had left on his face, noting the mottled purple that studded his throat where the chain links had bitten.
He jerked his head away making himself wince as he did so by causing his wrist to jar, "You know, Xena, you'd frighten me far more if I didn't know that you care so much about these friends and family of yours. You won't risk their lives if you can possibly avoid it, even if it required you to surrender your own life to save theirs," he told her placidly, refusing to rise to her bait. He, after all, had a destiny, and it hadn't yet run it's course, "It makes you weak," he taunted, "and emotional. Hardly good attributes for a warrior."
"You're wrong, Caesar," she told him softly, "Without love and compassion all you're left with is hate and indifference. That's a cold way to live ... but you've yet to discover the truth of that," she stood and glanced around the horizon noting that the fog had dispersed other than for insignificant tendrils that were quickly dissipating under the warmth of the afternoon sun.
The area around them was littered with the wreckage of at least one ship, possibly more. She recognised one or two corpses floating amongst the flotsam, showing the early signs of bloating as they absorbed water. There were no other live people to be seen. She tensed as she sensed Caesar beginning to move, "Unless you want another broken bone, I suggest you sit still," she warned him coldly without looking at him, continuing to scan the seas.
Trying to make himself more comfortable against the mast stump, Caesar crossed his legs at the ankles and gave her an intent look, "What if my men are the winners? What if it's Veranius who finds us?"
She didn't look at him as she considered what her response should be. Instead she tried to gauge how much daylight was left to them, and guess how long they were likely to be left floating around on a lump of wreckage. She could tell he was watching her, trying to predict just what she'd say, so she purposefully kept her face a blank mask, leaving him to sweat a little.
"You're right to be afraid if they come back for us, you know," he goaded, determined to force an answer from her, "When Veranius gets back here you'll be right back where you started from. Maybe I'll let Flaccus give you the whipping he's thought you deserved since the death of Blasius. You know he's certain you were behind that. He didn't care for the man, but he objects strongly when other people try to 'discipline' his men."
She refused to answer him, so he continued on in an almost conversational tone, "You know I think he has a grudging respect for you. He admires the way you stand up against adversity. But he has one small problem with that. He's never failed to break anyone put into his charge. You're providing him with a challenge and, after this little episode, I might just let him loose to break you as he sees fit. Perhaps I'll give him permission to work on you in between your training sessions in the Coliseum gladiator pits."
Xena turned coldly disdainful eyes upon him, "Don't count on it," she told him shortly, "I don't break easily, and I don't intend to let you get another chance at it, either."
Caesar was warming to his task, "You still haven't told me what you intend to do when we see that Roman ship coming towards us, Xena," he prodded, still failing to get her to respond, "Way I see it is you got three choices, none of them good for you."
"Please go on," she said sarcastically, "enlighten me as to what you think my choices are!"
He looked up at her proud, beautiful profile and felt his blood quicken, even in the midst of a situation where she held his life in her hand he could not stem the passion he felt for her. The heady mix of battle, conflict and lust that existed between them always made their emotions run high, although both were good enough actors to hide such feelings from each other. But he knew that they were both aware of some connection between them. Whenever they were within the same room they felt a charge of power that seemed to shed sparks as they clashed.
"Well," she prompted, "what are the three choices you think I have?"
Caesar smiled to himself. She may be physically dominant but his realm and art was manipulation, and Xena could still be effected in that way, however much she thought she had protected herself against him, "Your first choice is that you surrender and take the punishments that you'll have coming to you," he told her dispassionately.
"Go on," she encouraged, ticking that choice off of her own mental tally.
"Your second choice, would be to kill me and risk what my soldiers do to you," he informed her showing no real concern at the prospect.
"Now that's a choice that I might easily be tempted to take," she purred almost warmly, again ticking it off from her own mental list.
"I wouldn't advise that route, Xena," he told her calmly, "Not only would you die, but your little friend and those others would die a long and painful death." He watched as a shadow flicked across her expression, before it was once more set in the expressionless mask, "Your third, and final choice, is to kill yourself. Admittedly by doing so, you'd free Verchinex from his obligation to me, but you would once again be signing the death warrants of your friends. And I assure you that irritating blonde bard of yours will be cursing your name to all of your gods on Olympus before she reaches the gates of Hades."
He almost flinched as she turned her cold, icy gaze on him and sank slowly to her knees in front of him, withdrawing the dagger from her belt as she did so, "Let me make something quite clear to you," she told him in a low menacing rumble all the more chilling because it wasn't much more than a whisper and he had to strain to listen to her, "Should anything, and I mean anything, of that sort happen to Gabrielle, not all the fiends in Tartarus could stop me coming back for you and I swear you'll curse the day that your mother and father stole their first kiss!"
Never taking her eyes from his, she slowly ran the stiletto down the side of his face, down his neck and chest towards his groin, where her muscles suddenly tensed and she stabbed down hard, hearing a satisfying, "THUNK!!!" as it bit into the decking between his legs.
His eyes had widened in fear and relief as he realised that he was still intact. The Warrior Princess smiled at him, a smile that was as cold as the frozen north, and as devoid of mirth as the fiery pits of Tartarus, "Believe me, Julius, you know that's not an idle boast. I will find a way back to pay that debt to you."
He swallowed hard, believing every word she had told him. He knew of her previous death and her miraculous return to life. If she could do it once, he'd be a fool to believe that she wouldn't be able to do it again ... or find some other way to extract her vengeance upon him.
Knowing that she'd got her message through to him, she pulled the knife from the planking and slipped it back through the belt, deliberately turning her back on him as she went back to scanning the horizon for any sign of the returning victors. She almost wished that he'd try something stupid so that she could take some of her frustrations out on him.
Caesar watched the ease with which she moved, the confidence with which she carried herself. From the first moment he'd met her he had recognised a will, a spirit that more than matched his own. She was the only one, man or woman, who had ever caused him to fear. Even as he'd been held captive by the woman, - No child! - he amended, - she could barely have been sixteen at the time, - he had recognised that here was someone with a destiny as strong as his own. He had tried to snuff it out, before it could grow to challenge him, but at every turn he'd been frustrated in his efforts.
Yet through all the years they had been apart, he had never forgotten her. She festered like a wound in his soul. She burned like a coal in his heart. She was the thorn he knew would forever be in his foot, and when she had turned up in Rome those moons ago, she had again proven her power to disrupt his plans. Therefore he had turned his attention, to finally eliminating her threat, whilst providing himself with a use, a reason to keep her alive, so that he could prove his mastery upon her .... - And still she refuses to submit! - he growled in angry silence to her back.
Slowly he edged himself to his feet contemplating his chances of being able to take her by surprise. Without turning she snarled, "Unless you've got a death wish you better sit down and keep out of my hair!"
- She's inhuman, - his brain screeched as he sank back down on the rough planking. The sun was burning his unprotected shoulders and torso as it reflected off the sparkling water. As he sat unmoving on the deck of their raft, he slowly succumbed to the lethargy induced by a hot sun and the lack of water to replace the fluids that were thirstily sucked away from his body. Xena was aware as his breathing slowly turned deep and regular.
She turned and looked at her prisoner, - Who's really the prisoner? - she thought moodily, - Him, just because I removed him from his power for a while? Or me, knowing that there's more than an even chance that I'll end up right back where I started! - She frowned at herself for entertaining such thoughts. - I have to believe that it will be the Carthaginians who win and will find us. I can see no other way out of the gods awful mess that we're in. -
Xena turned her attention back to scanning the seas for any sign of a ship returning to search for survivors in the area. She stood until the sun sank with gathering speed into the blue depths of the western horizon, leaving her alone with Caesar and the darkness. She sank to the deck of the raft, drew up her long legs, hugging them to her body with her arms and allowed her head to rest on her knees. She couldn't afford to sleep tonight. She had to be alert in case a ship should return, or in case Caesar tried to turn the tables on her.
She'd noted as the last light flickered away, that his right wrist had swollen around the break and that the manacle was cutting into his flesh. - Well I haven't got anything here to set it with, and I'll be damned if I would even if I had, - she told herself firmly. - After all he's done to me and promised to do to Gabrielle, I'd see him rot before I lifted one hand to help him. - She shivered as the night temperature began to drop, - He's right about my choices though, - she conceded, - If the Romans are the first to find us, none of them are good. For Gabrielle's sake I'll just have to surrender to him and take my chances. At least I'll have made the bastard suffer for a while! -
Ignoring the blade Caesar launched himself at her .. he was almost certain that she wouldn't kill him .. her care for friends would ensure his relative safety .. so he took the risk determined to reassert his mastery before his troops found them once more. He crashed into Xena's shoulder, knocking the dagger loose from her grip, and tumbled them over the edge of the raft into the placid waters of the sea. They thrashed around, the Roman's punches limited by his bonds and his broken wrist.
The warrior, after throwing off her initial surprise, struggled to contain her flailing adversary until her short temper snapped and she struck out with stiff fingers jabbing Caesar in the neck causing the fight to go out of him instantly. Grabbing an arm before he could sink, Xena hoisted the Roman back onto the raft, before pulling herself up to join him. Glaring at her personal nemesis, the Warrior Princess allowed the man to suffer the slow suffocation caused by blocking of the flow of blood to his brain, while she retrieved the knife and stuck it firmly back into her waistband.
Turning back to her suffering victim, the raven haired woman's hands shot out, once more, to release the 'pinch' as she snarled at him, "That was really dumb!"
Caesar grinned weakly at her, as he regained his breath and wiped away the trickle of blood that oozed from his left nostril, "Can't blame a man for trying," he retorted, as he retreated slowly to his end of the raft.
"Can't I!" she growled. "Try that again and I'll pin you to that stump with the dagger!" That she was deadly serious was communicated by the dangerous tenseness throughout her body. She watched carefully as Caesar settled down once more. Pinning him in place with her eyes, she stood and stretched the kinks out of her muscles, hiding the shivers that threatened to shake her now wet frame. She allowed a grim smile as she realised that her 'captive' was unable to hide his own reaction to the cold and wet, before she swept the night for signs of a ship.
She stood for some time looking into the blackness before her sharp eyes caught the vaguest flicker of a torch in the distance. As it slowly brightened she could pick out more as a line of ships were spread abreast and clearly searching for the survivors of the sea battle that had taken place.
It took a moment for Caesar to realise that she had spotted something, but as she darted quickly forward and pulled him roughly to his feet, he guessed that the victors were returning . The question was, though, who had won? He froze in place as he felt the chill of cold steel on his neck.
"I don't know which side won," she breathed in his ear, "But you're going to behave yourself, while I figure out what to do," she pressed the knife closer, nicking the skin of his neck so that he felt the hot trickle of blood on his flesh.
"Why don't you do yourself a favour, Xena?" he told her almost companionably, "Surrender to me now. Veranius will have won. Our fleet was far superior to theirs. You're in enough trouble now, without letting my men seeing you threatening me," he tried to sound sincere.
"Nice try, Julius. But it ain't over 'til it's over. Lets just see how the cards fall, huh?" she told him mockingly, knowing that if it was the Romans coming back, it didn't matter what the soldiers saw, because it was Caesar who pulled the strings, and it was Caesar who would, in that eventuality, decide her punishment.
It was impossible to tell which fleet the ships belonged to as they came closer. The night managed to hide any tell-tale markings and the moon wasn't bright enough to help. All they could do was wait until the ships were upon them. Yet, as the big vessels moved closer, Xena felt her heart sinking. Closing down upon the raft, her sharp ears detected Roman voices and her eyes soon picked out the familiar faces from the elite maniple. Her gamble had failed. The Romans had won, beating the Carthaginians and dashing her slender hopes of escape and, ultimately, rescue for her friends.
"Give it up, Xena," Caesar told her quietly as he recognised the ship, "You've lost this one."
An instantly familiar voice hailed them from above, "Stand away from the General, slave!" No threats, no bluster, just a straight order.
Having already made up her mind what she'd do in this situation, never really having another practical choice, she removed the knife from Caesar's neck and stepped back, maintaining a stoic mask even as Caesar turned around and challenged her with that infuriatingly smug, arrogant, smirk that only he could managed to contrive.
"Drop the weapons, Xena," he told her, once more master of the situation.
She almost gave in to the urge to gut him like the pig he was. Almost! But the memory of her bard stayed her hand. The knowledge that such an action would condemn Gabrielle, Joxer and Autolycus to lingering deaths, held her tightly, and she could not give into her own desires.
"The weapons, Xena!" Caesar commanded more forcefully.
She looked him in the eyes and her hand moved faster than sight could follow as she threw the stiletto directly at her captor, to land with shuddering vibrations in the wood between his feet. He held up his hand, to stay any reaction from Flaccus and his men. He, Caesar, had control here and he would force his slave, through the strength of his will, to submit to his orders, "The sword," he told her.
Slowly, she unbuckled the belt and allowed it to fall by her feet, the chain to her collar uncoiling to hang down to the deck, "Put your hands on your head and kneel over by the mast," he instructed.
Breathing heavily at the mortifying frustration of the situation, Xena knew she had little option but to comply. Moving slowly and deliberately, she raised her hands and locked them together behind her head, before shuffling to where she had been directed to wait. Within moments four soldiers had climbed down to the raft. One had a pair of short linked irons that he used to manacle Xena's hands behind her back, before dragging her roughly to her feet once more.
In the time it had taken for that to be accomplished, a boson's chair had been swung over the side and was in the process of lifting Caesar back onto Veranius' ship. The Warrior Princess watched with no emotion as the chair was dropped back over and she was forced into the seat and strapped in. It took mere seconds for her to be hoisted back to the deck of the ship she had escaped from, and a hostile Flaccus stood ready to take charge of her once more. She noted that Caesar had been hurried below, Patroclese probably dancing attendance to minister to his master's wounds. She waited to see what they intended to do with her. She had little doubt that it would be both painful and uncomfortable.
When the four soldiers climbed back aboard with their commander's armour and weapons, Flaccus turned his attention to her. He signalled a man behind her who stepped forward and secured a rope around her ankles, "Take her up!" he ordered, and a dozen men leapt to pull on the other end of the rope, jerking Xena off her feet and sending her crashing to the deck, with no way to lessen the impact of the fall with her hands shackled behind her back. Her head hit the timbers heavily and she blacked out while she was hauled up on the yardarm, to hang by her feet.
"I want ten guards watching her tonight. Tomorrow we'll see what the General wants done with her," Flaccus barked.
Ares forced himself to control his startlement as he turned to face his flighty sister who flounced, as ever, in the scandalous pink garment that hid nothing and promised everything, "None of your business," he growled moodily, as he watched Aphrodite tour around his abode, trailing delicately sensuous fingers over the deadly weapons of war that decorated the place.
Ignoring her, Ares stumped over to his throne-like chair and thumped into it in a heap, hanging his left leg over the arm to present his visitor with an image of arrogant power. "What do you want 'Dite?" he demanded belligerently, "You here to gloat, or is it just my turn to suffer from your inanity?"
She grinned at him, turning on the full power of her dumb blonde act, "Hey, can't a girl visit her brother once in a while?" she asked with a brainless giggle, "I mean," she added, "especially since he's barely set foot on Olympus since that business with Strife and ...." an enraged growl brought her up short, as she looked at him and registered the snarl on his face. "Oh get over it will you!" she chided.
"I'm not exactly welcome around our brethren at the moment," he commented acidly, "or are you so busy playing matchmaker to a bunch of mortals that you failed to register the fact?"
She looked closely at her brother and noticed the signs of despondency that underlay his arrogant moodiness, "Look Are'," she said in a far more gentle tone as she moved to his side and touched his hand, which he drew away from her with a petulant lack of grace, "You've been shut up in this mausoleum of yours for far too long. What you need is a hobby, something to give you back a bit of interest in life."
He stared at her from under hooded brows, "I'm not interested 'Dite! There's nothing out there for me to enjoy."
"What!" she demanded, hands on hips her voice sounding incredulous, "All those wars an' things going on and you're not interested!" She climbed up on the dias, placed a hand to his brow and ignored his attempts to try and shake her off, "Well you're not sick, so that takes us back to you being a spoiled kid who's lost his favourite toy. So c'mon, Ares, snap out of it, get a life, 'kay?"
"Listen, sis. Athena's quite happy playing soldiers in my absence, and Zeus has made it very clear that I'm a disgrace to the family, so just what in Tartarus is the point?!" he demanded, his voice rising from a dull roar to crashing thunder as it crescendoed.
"My, my, we are in a funk, aren't we?" noted a silky feminine voice reinforced by just a hint of steel.
"What is this?" demanded Ares finding his patience being sorely eroded by the sudden appearance of another sister, "What do you want, Artemis?" he yelled unsociably, "I've not been messing with your Amazon's and that's about the only reason that forces you to pay me a visit?"
He watched as the new arrival turned to Aphrodite. She was tall, lithe with a sleekly muscular frame, had curling, chestnut coloured hair and sea green eyes. She carried herself with the elegant poise of a hunter. Which, of course, was exactly what she was.
"Have you told him yet?" Artemis demanded of her sister.
Aphrodite twisted her fingers in the fabric of her gown and pouted as she answered, "Not yet. He's in such a bad mood he's really not about to listen to anything I say to him."
"What are you two talking about," demanded Ares, "C'mon, c'mon, hurry up and tell me so that we can get this little family reunion over with."
Artemis shook her head in disgust, "Really, Aphrodite, you've got to try and concentrate on things. It's bad enough having one member of the family lost in his own world of sulks and temper tantrums, without having an airhead floating around on some fluff ball as well."
"Cut that out, Artemis. If you weren't so worried that he'd just toss a fireball at you when you first showed up, I wouldn't be here at all. I'm doing this as a favour for you, my sister," she pointed out, her words dripping with sarcasm, "I can always haul my butt outta here. I've got much better things to do with my time." she patted a vagrant curl back into place
Ares was even more bemused by this exchange and asked his question firmly and loudly to try and cut through the squabble, "Exactly what are you two here for?!" .... And got absolutely no response from the two goddesses.
"Listen bubble brain," snarled Artemis insultingly, "All you had to do was come in here and mention Xena, and muscles would have even left a devoted conquering army in the lurch to hear what you had to say!"
"Xena?" Ares queried.
"Listen here dear, or should I say deer?" Aphrodite returned insultingly to her sister, "Just because you've got your leathers in a tangle over the warrior babe and her irritating friend, doesn't mean I have to share your interests. I came here outta the goodness of my heart, and I can see that my attendance is no longer required, so I'm outta here. You can tell bro' all he needs to know."
"APHRODITE!" yelled Ares losing his temper.
"Later," she grinned and blew him a kiss as she shimmered into nothingness.
"Artemis, for the love of Zeus! Will you tell me what all this is about and what does it have to do with Xena!" snarled the God of War as he turned on his sister.
She gave him a considering look before saying, "You really don't know, do you? I thought you kept a special watch on what the Warrior Princess was doing."
His eyes turned menacing, "Just tell me what you've got to say about Xena, and what in Hades name is your interest in her anyway."
Artemis's eyes also took on a threatening cast, "Well brother mine, one of your toy soldiers captured your ex-pet warlord and kidnapped my Amazon Queen. Both of them have been suffering from their captivity, although your darling Xena has taken the brunt of the beatings. Did you know she almost died a couple of moons ago?"
"Will you just tell me what's going on, without speaking in these cryptic riddles, Artemis, or I swear I'll send the biggest baddest warlord against your Amazons that I can find!" he threatened.
Artemis considered retorting in kind, but decided that filling Ares in on the situation would be far more telling, "Caesar captured Xena using a trick nearly three moons ago. He's had her chained, beaten, tormented and near death on a couple of occasions since. I wouldn't have worried, but he also took Gabrielle, my Amazon Queen, and had her beaten too. So I want you to use your influence with him to back off!" his sister told him bluntly.
"Well, well, well," Ares almost purred, "Xena's in the hands of Caesar ... again. I wonder if she's ready to listen to reason now."
"You never know your luck, Ares," she baited him, "But if Caesar gets her killed, your favourite hobby will be long past any way for you to tempt her back to your side. You need to get her away from him."
"Not that easy, my dear," he told her as his brain whirled around the situation. "Caesar tends to go his own way ... Oh I'm pleased enough with what he accomplishes, but he doesn't always listen to my ... 'suggestions'."
"Can't you control any of your people?" she demanded scathingly.
"He's too good at what he does for me to crush out his adherence in an overt act against him and, in his way, he wants Xena as much as I do. No I'll try to get her to pledge herself back to me, if she did that it would be worth losing Caesar, but I'll work on another way to release her as well, just as a back up ... something that comes from a direction away from me." He stroked his right hand along his beard as he thought, "If anyone's going to toy with Xena, or kill her, it will be me. In my time, when I'm ready to," he muttered absently.
"What about ..." began Artemis only to be rudely cut off by her brother.
"Haven't got time now. Been great chatting with you and 'Dite. Must do it again some time, sweet cheeks. Now why don't you go back and play with your Harlots and let me work a few things out."
"Ares you're absolutely insufferable," she shouted at him in outrage.
"Bye," he waved at her, blowing her a kiss, as she vanished in a shimmering green and gold haze.
"Time I took a grip of things," chuckled Ares to himself, enjoying the prospect of the diversion, as he sauntered across to a table and waved a hand across the waters of the scrying bowl that rested there. "Xena, Xena, Xena!" he chided to the reflection of his recalcitrant ex-warlord as he saw her hanging upside down from a ships mast, "What have you got yourself into now?" He laughed heartily, waved a hand and disappeared in a bluish silver light.
"Hook line and sinker," grinned her sister as she stalked across to where the other woman was standing.
"Ohhhhh goody," screeched the blonde with evident delight.
"You can knock off the dumb blonde act now, Dite," grinned her sister, "It really doesn't do anything for me, or for you for that matter."
"Ah but it's so useful when I'm dealing with a man," she laughed, a rich full throated sound.
"I can't believe that they don't see through that act," Artemis laughed with her.
"Well, what's he going to do?" asked Aphrodite as she lounged back on a chaise longue.
"I've no idea, but anything has got to be better than letting him curdle in his own juices," came the reply, "Besides, Athena's getting way too big for her boots. It's time Ares returned to his responsibilities, and if he can help Xena while he's at it I'll be just as pleased."
"You know," grinned the blonde goddess, "One of these days he's gonna figure out that there's more than one of us whose interested in the big bad warrior babe. It's only because she has totally no respect for any of us that she hasn't been claimed as chosen by any number of the family."
"Well no one better get too many ideas. I want Xena bound to the Amazons, and as one of my own chosen." She gave a feral grin, "And I intend to get her too ... eventually."
A knock at the door brought a curt, "Come!" from his lips, and Flaccus entered with the key which he handed to Patroclese who worked quickly to remove the restraints, although he took extra care as he opened the one around the broken bone. "Well what have you done with her?" he demanded of the Centurion.
"She's hanging by her ankles from the yard arm for the night. I thought you'd want to determine punishment and watch its execution in the morning, sir," offered Flaccus in explanation.
"Very good. I'll give you your orders about that on the morrow." His brown eyes grew hard, "What of the guard that was sent to escort her to my cabin? They knew how dangerous she is and they failed to secure her properly before bringing her into an open, chaotic, situation."
"The Optio, Lucius Cato, died bravely leading a diversion squad on a boarding mission against the Carthaginian pirates. He volunteered to lead the mission knowing it was certain death, but felt that his life was forfeit for his failure anyway," Flaccus reported. "The other five guards are under arrest awaiting you decision upon their fate, sir," informed the centurion neutrally.
"They'll be executed in the morning," Caesar informed him flatly, "The maniple must understand that Xena is to be given absolutely no room to pull any of her stunts. I didn't go to all the trouble of planning her capture to allow her to break free at will. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly, sir," acknowledged Flaccus. He and the soldiers concerned had expected no less.
"Good now get out of here so Patroclese can do his job," ordered Caesar testily.
Flaccus saluted and left the cabin as the healer pushed a cup of water and herbs into his master's hand, "Drink this, it will help with the pain."
Caesar swallowed the brew and grimaced at the bitter taste, "Why do all medicines taste so foul?" he growled, "Is it a law in some healer's code that nothing that doesn't taste like rancid fish guts should be used?"
Patroclese allowed himself a soft smile, "Something like that, my Lord. My teacher always told me that if the medicine doesn't taste bad then it won't do it's job."
Caesar grunted as the herbs began to take effect and started to relax him, "Thought it must be something like that," he gave the healer a long look, "Well are you ready to get this over with?"
Patroclese had been waiting for some of the swelling to go down, which the removal of the manacle cuff had greatly facilitated. He laid out the splints and bandages that he was going to require on the desk and, once he was certain that the herbs were doing their task, he gripped his patient's arm and looked into his eyes, "Ready?" he asked.
"As I'll ever be," agreed his master.
Bracing himself, Patroclese grasped Caesar's arm at the elbow and took his hand, then began to pull and twist until he heard the bone grate back into alignment. Beards of perspiration decorated Caesar's brow while the healer set the wrist and he couldn't contain a scream of pain as the injury was manipulated. Satisfied that he'd got the bone back into its proper position, Patroclese took the splints and bandaged them into place, before settling a sling around his master's neck and easing the injured arm into it, "Try not to use it," he advised, "Give it time to heal properly, or you might cause yourself some problems."
Caesar nodded his understanding, before he gave Patroclese a quizzical look, "Aren't you going to try and plead Xena's case this time?" he asked, knowing that the healer had previously done his best to limit the damage done to the slave.
Patroclese rolled up the bandages he hadn't used and set them in his medical kit, "Xena stepped over the bounds with what she did. You could not allow her to go unpunished for that. It would set a bad example amongst the men. Yet I think, as you still want her alive, you will have to temper how far you go," conceded the healer softly.
Caesar had already got that in mind, "Could she withstand fifty lashes?" he asked the healer intently.
Patroclese considered, "Almost certainly. She is far stronger than anyone else I have ever met. If anyone could, it would be her."
"What if they were to be separated into two separate punishments of twenty five? You could treat the injuries after the first session and then the second batch could be administered the following day," considered Caesar.
"That would increase her chances of survival, my Lord. But even she will need time to recover from that beating, and she's going to need my skills to insure that she doesn't get an infection or fever, so that you lose her that way," explained Patroclese unhappily.
"Very well then," decided his master, "Xena can't be allowed to get away with this, and casual punishments are not fitting for this particular crime. It will serve as an example to the troops as well as to my reluctant slave!"
"Do you need me for anything else, my Lord?" enquired the healer solicitously.
"No Patroclese, I'll be fine. Thank you for attending to me," dismissed Caesar absently.
"Should I check on Xena, my Lord?" the blonde man questioned again.
"No Patroclese," repeated his master a far harder voice, "She hasn't come to any real harm yet, she'll keep until after the whipping in the morning."
As my Lord commands," agreed Patroclese reluctantly, bowing deeply before making his exit.
As the door closed behind the healer, Caesar heard a deep, rich voice resonate from the shadows of the cabin, "My, my. After all this time holding her, you still can't control her."
Caesar swung around to confront the owner of the voice ready to call his guards in, "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Oh you know me, Julius," purred Ares as he moved into the light allowing Caesar to take in his large muscular form and the silver decorated, black leathers of the God of War.
"Mars," acknowledged the Roman, "What can I do for you?"
Ares took his place in a comfortable chair, crossed his right leg over his left and contemplated his chosen, "Let's just say that I'm looking up a few of my more favoured adherents ... checking on their progress, perhaps. And what do I find?" he asked raising a dark eyebrow at the arrogant human before him, "I find that one of my favourite generals has dared to lay hands on my favourite da ... um ... disciple." he corrected himself smoothly.
"Xena!" stated Caesar flatly.
"Xena," agreed Ares in a neutral tone. He fixed the Roman with a piercing gaze as he continued, "I want you to release her."
"No," came the stark reply, "She's mine. I've gone to too much trouble to take her to tamely let her go, even for you, oh great God of War."
Ares had expected the refusal, what he hadn't expected was the arrogant assurance with which it was delivered, "You question my command? You think to stand against me, oh puny mortal? I could make you beg to do my bidding. If it wasn't for me, your vaunted glory would be nothing ..."
"Not so," cut in Caesar fearlessly. "I know my destiny, Mars. With your backing, or without it, I would still be where I am today. Don't jeopardise our relationship over one woman. Xena's life is not in overt danger. She may not appreciate her current existence or what I do to her, but I will ensure she lives ... to serve me. And while she serves me, I will continue to serve you to the best of my ability."
"Are you trying to threaten me?" asked Ares dangerously, sitting forward in his chair, looking like a panther ready to spring.
"Not at all, my Lord God," answered Caesar politely, "I just think that you should know that if Xena should be removed from my hands by ... shall we say, divine interference, I am certain that one of your brethren would welcome my services and so be lauded for my conquests."
The Roman watched as Ares glowered at him while he digested this blatant piece of blackmail. Not sure what reaction to expect from the God, Caesar was surprised when the black clad figure threw back his head and laughed at the mortal's temerity. Finally, when his mirth had died, Ares looked at the man with humour still twinkling in his eyes, "It's a good job that I like you, Julius," he chuckled. "Any other man who had spoken to me in that way would now be taking the fast route to Hades domain." He stood up without warning and grabbed a handful of the Roman's tunic, "Still, let me make things quite clear. If you kill Xena, you will envy her death. She is mine, and the only person who gets to kill her is me," he told Caesar, shaking him lightly, "Understand?"
"As you say, Lord Mars, Xena's death is not on the agenda."
"Very well," smiled Ares releasing his hold, "And just to let you know .. I appreciate your good work. I admire a craftsman, and you are sooo good at what you do. Keep it up," he applauded, before vanishing in a scattering of silver blue light.
Caesar, sank unsteadily against his desk.
He strode across the tessellated floor that depicted scenes from the struggles Rome faced as it made itself great, ignoring both the art work and the priests, whom he brushed past without a moment's hesitation. They stood aside and watched the tall, stocky, blonde, armour clad, man with the flowing scarlet cape, make his way towards the altar. It was not their place to interfere with the man who rivalled Caesar for power in their city.
His eyes burned with a righteous anger as he replayed recent events in his mind. First he had received the news that Caesar had been scattering dinars like rose petals to gather information on the Warrior Princess. Next he had heard of the massive personal bounty that his rival had placed on the woman and her bard's heads. Then had come the disquietening news that Caesar had captured both Xena and Gabrielle, condemning them both to slavery for their crimes against the empire, - As was his right, - snarled the man, even though he hated to admit it. But what was far worse was the news that his adversary had concluded a treaty with the Gauls and, his spies assured him, managed to remove Verchinex from the scene entirely. That meant that Caesar was free to return to Rome and, with no trouble emanating from the Gauls, and no chance of Verchinex's name to stir the masses, it meant that the arrogant son of a bitch was free to woo the people of Rome and secure his position ahead of his rival.
What was worse, the man had made a fortune by using the Warrior Princess as a pit fighter. He now had enough dinars to buy Rome, and the blonde man had no illusions that the city wasn't for sale. Rome was the biggest whore in the known world and was willing to embrace anyone who could afford to purchase her favours.
The only good news that he had received was that Brutus had completely botched his task of escorting the bard, and two of her and Xena's friends, to be held safely within the confines of Caesar's palace. He was well aware of the current situation, that Brutus had men all around Rome scouring the countryside for the runaway slave and the men with her. It was also rumoured that there were two more men that Brutus was almost equally frantic to find. On top of all this, an Amazon delegation, including their Queen was due to arrive at any time. He had absolutely no idea what these women's connection to the situation was, but his acute political and honed battle senses told him that they were an interested party in the unfolding drama.
Therefore he had come to the temple to implore aid from Mars. He was, after all a regular worshipper of the God of War. He had paid homage on the battlefields and shed his blood for the greater glory of the Lord of Conflict. All he sought was a little divine guidance. For if he, Pompey the Magnus, couldn't coax Mars into aiding him, no mortal could.
As he reached the high altar, Pompey fell to his knees and then prostrated himself before his God. In his mind he cried out his petition and beseeched acknowledgement, - Oh Mighty God of War, Greatest of all of the Gods. Famed for your deeds in battle, your courage, your honour! Help me in this, my time of greatest need, guide me on the path to victory that I might serve you better yet! -
He awaited an answer, a sign, some signal that Mars had heard and acknowledged him. He waited in vain. Finally, after a candlemark's prostration, he arose from the chilling touch of the stone floor and stalked out of the temple the way he had come. Although he felt disappointment at being ignored, the exercise had not only been to seek the aid of Mars, but also to prove his religious devotion to the people of the city.
Outside, once more, in the hot early morning sun, Pompey leapt into the saddle of his great black warhorse and, looking the very image of the conquering hero, rode through the streets of Rome, accepting the adulation of the masses as his due, as he returned to his palace in the northern quarter of the city ahead of his personal guards.
When he arrived there, he threw the reins of his mount to the waiting stable hand and took the steps three at a time as he hurried back to the work that awaited him in his office. He had much to do before Caesar returned, and the news was that his adversary would be back in just a few short days. He marched past the sentries on duty outside his door and swung them closed behind himself. It was then that he felt the presence of another being.
Turning swiftly, he quickly located the shadowy form, but before he could raise his voice to call for the guards, a commanding, richly seductive, voice spoke saying, "You asked for my aid, " Ares stepped out into the bright space of the large well appointed room, "and I am a God who likes to give help to my faithful, when called upon to do so." He smiled as Pompey dropped to one knee before him and bowed his head.
"My Lord Mars," he answered, "I am but a humble servant, and am truly appreciative of the great honour that you do me by being here."
- Far more deferential, - approved Ares as he observed the Roman before him, - but just as stiff necked and arrogant as Caesar in his way. No wonder the two can't get along. - "Get up, man" he ordered and waited until Pompey had once more risen to his feet, "Just what is it you want from me?
It had taken an uneventful half-moon to sail 'Wave Dancer' from Acanthus to Rome. During that time the pirate captain had been entertained by Amazon weapons training as Eponin put her warriors through their paces on the main deck at scheduled periods throughout the day. The training was gruelling and woe betide any Amazon who didn't match up to the Weapon Master's exacting standards and, Nebula had been surprised to note, that included the Regent herself.
She took a careful check on her bearings as she navigated the busy River Tiber, heading for the upper wharves that were reserved for the use of the higher echelon of Roman dignitaries and visiting officials from other states.
They had passed the lower port of Ostia, down at the mouth of the River about three candlemarks after dawn. Nebula had been conscious of the watch towers that flanked the river entrance and tried to memorize details of the port's defences, keeping very much in the background. This allowed Ephiny to deal with the harbour master's assistant, who had been ferried out to the ship to inspect their papers and inquire about their business. When the man realised that it was the expected embassy from the Amazons, he fell over himself in his eagerness to please.
They were cleared to pass and given instruction on where to berth the ship when they reached the upper harbour within the city itself. The pirate had listened closely to the directions, but kept carefully in the background. She didn't think it likely that anyone would recognise her here, but the situation was complicated and dangerous enough without that little twist being added to the mix.
With a clear passage ahead of her, Nebula allowed her gaze to drift towards Hercules who stood at the bow dressed in his loin cloth and ownership bands, having clothed himself in them, once more, when they had reached the entrance to the river.
- The man is more than impressive, - she grinned to herself, appreciating the way his muscles rippled under his smooth golden skin, - I wonder if he realises just what effect he's going to have on the matrons of Rome? - she almost laughed out loud at the thought.
She had been grateful for all of his help on the voyage as well. Being the only experienced sailor, other than herself, aboard the vessel, had meant that the two of them had had to share the responsibility of captaining the ship, - He makes a damn fine first officer, - she grinned, - Pity he's got those scruples. Being a pirate might suit him. -
With her and Hercules to instruct the Amazon's and give the necessary orders and guidance, the voyage had passed quickly without any major troubles to deal with. She had noted that there was a small dissident element amongst the women .. about eight of the Amazons kept entirely to themselves when not actively engaged in ships duties .. and most of the other warriors tended to keep a wary eye on them. Something was obviously amiss in that area, but equally obvious was the fact that it was a domestic matter, and she doubted anyone would appreciate her interference. She shrugged to herself, barked an order for the topmen to shorten sail as they neared their destination, and decided that so long as it didn't cause a problem with the smooth running of the ship, it really wasn't any of her business.
As 'Wave Dancer' slowly glided into position on the mooring spot she had selected, Nebula noticed that both Ephiny and Eponin had ducked below decks, - No doubt gone to prepare themselves for the Roman public, - she thought wryly, knowing that the initial plan was to stun the jaded pallets of the Roman elite with a taste of the exotic, barbarian splendour of the Amazon nation, - While everyone is chattering about superficial appearances, it might deflect anyone from getting too curious about what exactly we're doing here in the first place. Trade negotiations might wear a bit thin, although it's the only convincing cover story we could come up with, - acknowledged the pirate. - Well it stands a chance of working. I'm sure they'll have something else in mind if they need to cover themselves ... I hope! -
As soon as the ship stopped moving, those designated to handle the side ropes, leapt over the rails and secured 'Wave Dancer' to the mooring stakes. Nebula noticed that Hercules had also gone below deck, and wasn't surprised when she saw two Amazons in full ceremonial dress, complete with masks, make their way over to the rail, one of them clutching a scroll.
The moment the gangplank was run out, the two were down it and heading for the Legionaries who were approaching the ship from the wharf master's building. A quick exchange took place, and the group stood waiting as a man was sent off on some errand. Within a short while the soldier returned, mounted with five others and two spare horses for the Amazons. Once the women were in the saddle, the group made their way away from the wharves to deliver their greeting and announce the arrival of the Amazon Queen to whomever would be receiving them.
Nebula concerned herself with the hundred and one things that were required of her: she had to allow a customs inspection, sign many forms as well as making sure that the ship was correctly secured, she didn't want to incur any fines for breaking Roman port regulations.
After about a half candlemark, the two Amazon's returned with their escort, boarded the ship and disappeared below. Nebula kept an eye on the traffic around the wharf, alert to any signs of danger to her ship, but could detect nothing overt from the Romans. Everything seemed to be progressing as planned, and the Amazon visit seemed to be accepted at face value.
The waiting continued as Nebula continued to work at the myriad things that always needed seeing to on a ship. She had arranged, with Ephiny, to retain the services of six of the Amazons, basically as a skeleton crew for the vessel and for running messages to wherever the Amazon embassy ended up staying. The pirate captain would keep an ear open in any of the taverns for gossip concerning the people they were looking for and send any information along to the Regent.
In a remarkably short space of time (which suggested that the relevant authorities had been alerted to their imminent arrival), there was a blasting fanfare of trumpets as a Legion Cohort marched it's way down to the wharf burnished breastplates gleaming in the mid-afternoon sunshine. At their head, on a magnificent black stallion rode a tall, well built, man with short cropped blonde hair and an air of authority about him that almost seemed tangible.
As the sound of the trumpets resonated through the air, Amazons dressed in their ceremonial garb began to assemble on the deck of the ship, before flowing down to the wharf, drawing themselves up in colourfully exotic ranks that rivalled even the splendour of the Roman soldiers.
As the Romans drew up opposite the ship, Ephiny, wearing the mask and full attire of the Amazon Queen, stepped out onto the deck. She was followed by a subservient Hercules, who knelt by her feet and then both were quickly flanked by Eponin and Malonda, resplendent in the finery of court advisors, both of these women carried warstaffs and in unison they rapped them three times upon the deck of the ship, the heavy sounds echoing through the heavy planking.
When the vibration halted, Eponin stepped forward, "Harken, harken ye Gods and Mortals all. Ephiny, by the grace of Artemis, her Regent and Queen of the Amazons, Lioness of Themiscyra, Daughter of the Moon, stands amongst you." At that point the Amazon guard turned as one to face the ship.
"Pay homage to her and welcome her coming," commanded Eponin.
Together the Amazons knelt and bowed their heads. Ephiny moved forward, followed by Hercules, who had risen, unnoticed, to his feet, and both Malonda and Eponin. When they reached the stone of the wharf, the Amazon guard stood and turned back to face the Romans, who had remained at attention through the ceremony. Standing a little in front of her entourage, Ephiny waited for the man on the black horse to make himself known to her.
Nebula stood proud on the bridge of her ship watching the pageant before her. Her mouth was pursed in consideration as she watched the reactions of the Romans to the Amazon display .. especially the Roman leader. She had been briefed about Eponin's role and knew that the ritual greeting had been shortened and subtly altered due to the fact that Ephiny was the Regent and not the Queen.
The Romans couldn't know this, and the effect of the proclamation was to leave them rather bemused and impressed by the menacing, women in their exotic and more than slightly erotic combination of leather and feathers. Here was something to spark the interest of even these world wise soldiers who, up until that day, believed that they had seen and done everything.
Looking at the blonde Roman leader, Nebula got the impression that he wasn't as taken by surprise as had been his men, not that he hadn't been ... impressed, just that he seemed to have recovered his poise far quicker than could have been reasonably expected. She watched closely as he swung down off of his horse, waited while a soldier stepped forward to take the reins, and for two of his officers to join him, before he stepped forward to greet his Royal guest.
Eschewing all ceremony and formality, he announced for himself, "In the name of Rome I, Pompey the Magnus, greet and welcome Queen Ephiny and the representatives of the Amazon nation." He struck and held his right hand to his left breast as he made a slight bow towards the regent, "I would be honoured if you would allow me to extend to you, and your retainers, the humble comforts of my home for the duration of your stay in our fair city."
- That's a surprise! - thought Nebula as she arched an eyebrow at the announcement. - The great Pompey deigning to greet a barbarian queen personally .. and offering his own hospitality. Seems that the Magnus has plans of his own afoot. -
Stepping forward, Ephiny slowly raised her ceremonial mask revealing the luxuriant blonde curls and intelligent brown eyes that fastened on the Roman's grey ones, "I thank you for your gracious greeting and offer, Great Pompey. My Amazon sisters and I would be grateful to accept your generous offer of hospitality."
And so it was settled with a far greater ease than Nebula had expected. Ephiny and Hercules had wanted to form an early connection with Pompey knowing that this man was the only real rival to Caesar's power and could, they hoped, be brought around to aid them in their quest to recover their friends. This personal greeting at the harbour had accomplished that and also given them access to him through guest-right at his home.
She was glad that she had resumed the coverage of her mask, and that her sisters had remained masked, throughout the procession to Pompey's palace. It allowed them to stare in open eyed wonder at such sites as the Circus Maximus, off the Forum Boarim, the Capitol above the Roman Forum and in the distance the towering Coliseum.
They passed through the Servian Walls, the ancient fortifications that were the original boundaries of the city and north into one of the newer quarters of Rome where Pompey had erected his imposing palace. By the end of the procession, the Amazon's felt oppressed by the opulent magnificence that was everywhere to behold, and knew they were truly a world away from the rustic simplicity of their towns and forests ... their home.
While Ephiny with Hercules, Eponin and Malonda were shown lavishly furnished and luxuriously appointed apartments in the palace, the Amazon guard were given a barracks within the grounds of the building. It was large, spacious and had access to bathing facilities the likes of which the women had never before experienced. The only thing wrong with the arrangement was that the warriors were effectively separated from their leaders. However, Eponin came up with a partial answer by assigning extra guards, not only to Ephiny, but also to herself and Malonda as well, which gave them some sixteen warriors to guard the wing of the building that had been assigned as theirs for the duration of their visit.
Once Pompey had departed, after issuing them with an invitation to join him for dinner and making sure that they had no complaints as to their accommodations, the group made shift to settle in. Hercules, who had remained silently in the background whilst everything happened around him, slumped onto Ephiny's bed feeling a nervous exhaustion garnered from the tenseness he felt at the situation. "This is not going to be easy to get used to," he said quietly.
"You're doing fine Hercules," encouraged Ephiny, "Hardly anyone looked at you more than once. They've accepted you at face value for now, which is what is important."
"You know Eph," broke in Eponin as she looked appreciatively at Hercules again , - I might not be able to touch, but no one had said anything about not looking. - she smirked quietly. She heard Hercules groan at her glance and allowed the smirk to crease her features into a grin as she continued, "I don't think anyone has heard, muscles speak. If he could just play dumb around the Romans it might just prove useful."
"What makes you say that Poni?" questioned the Regent trying hard to keep the grin of her face at the stricken looks Hercules was giving her at Eponin's continuing predatory looks.
Eponin moved over to the bed and sat down about a body's width away from the demi-god, noting that his muscles twitched with the urge to move further away from the Weapons Master, only strength of will and the need to not further embarrass himself kept him there. Ephiny coughed to get some attention and raised an eyebrow in suggestion that her friend answer her question, "Um, well. I think Pompey might just have a hidden agenda of his own. At some point he's likely to try and get you alone for 'discussions', and it might be useful if you had Hercules available to protect your interests. I don't think there would be a problem, but an extra pair of ears listening, especially if Pompey believes them deaf ears, might just get us an inside edge."
"It's an interesting idea," agreed Ephiny thoughtfully before turning her attention on her 'concubine', "Could you do it? Maintain the fiction throughout our stay here?" she asked him.
Hercules rested his arms on his knees as he thought about it, "I don't see why not. I've got a pretty good hold on my reactions ..." he broke off as his body flinched away from the light touch of Eponin's trailing fingers, "cut that out, Eponin," he growled mortified by the involuntary reaction, "At least normally I do," he glared at the smug Weapon's Master.
"Poni!" snapped Ephiny, trying to be stern and failing miserably as she struggled to keep from creasing up, "I told you he was mine. Just keep your hands off of him."
"Aw, Eph! You take all the fun out of everything." groaned Eponin in very mock contrition.
"Come on we've got plans to make," the Regent tried to be firm, "Do the warriors know what to do?"
Malonda from her self imposed position at the door nodded and affirmed, "They're going to mix with Pompey's soldiers and see what rumours they can pick up from them. They ought to be a good source of information, and the girls are looking to have some fun with them"
"What kind of fun?" questioned Ephiny tensely, "I don't want them to start anything that's going to put us in a compromising position."
"Don't worry, Eph," Eponin tried to assure her friend, "nothing to bad, just a few drinking games and maybe an offer to spar, you know, normal ... stuff!"
- Oh no! - thought the Regent anxiously, - Nothing to worry about. How's it going to look when my Amazon guard drinks half his troops under the table and then whups the rest at sparring practice! - "Eponin!" she growled dangerously.
"It's okay, Eph, honest," the Weapon's Master repeated her assurance, "The girls know not to go over the top, and I think it could save an awful lot of time in gathering information."
Seeing that Ephiny was far from convinced, Hercules attempted to sooth the situation, "I'm sure it will be fine, Ephiny. Your guards are all responsible women, I'm sure that there's very little that they could hurt."
She turned her glare on him, and it was his turn to try an hide the grin that kept wanting to force itself onto his face, "Have you ever attended any Amazon drinking parties or contests?" she asked him pointedly.
"Ah, no," he conceded, "I've never been invited."
"Just be thankful for small mercies," she assured him. She returned her mallet like gaze to Eponin, "Poni, I forbid you to get involved with any of the frivolities. I need you with a clear head in the mornings."
"But Eph ...." the Weapons Master began to protest.
"No buts," snapped the Regent sternly, "That's a royal command."
Eponin stood, accepting the order with a dark look, she ducked her head in a slight bow and replied, "If your majesty so commands."
"My majesty does," Ephiny assured her with a grin. "Come on, we've got to get cleaned up for dinner."
"Oh my," came Hercules's voice from the bed, "And me with nothing new to wear!"
Giggling as they left for their rooms, they failed to notice the demi-god fall back onto the bed in exasperation at the thought of the continuing charade.
>From his place, kneeling behind Ephiny's chair, Hercules had had to rely upon, his 'mistress' to pass him the occasional tid-bit of food to satisfy his hunger. No one took any notice of him, other than when Pompey had asked a couple of pointed questions about his function in the Regent's retinue. Ephiny had explained in forthright terms that he was her 'concubine' along for her pleasure, and had manage to drop into the conversation that he was both deaf and mute.
After giving the big man a vaguely curious glance, Pompey had ignored him, which suited Hercules fine. He just wished that he didn't have to be in attendance on Ephiny at this function. Feasts and big gatherings appealed to him about as much as they did to Xena.
That stray thought encouraged a dozen others about the Warrior Princess and their friends. He was so totally absorbed in his own memories that he almost spoke when he felt Ephiny's hand on his shoulder, catching himself only at the last minute. He looked up into her eyes as she motioned for him to follow her. The feast had obviously ended for the guest of honour and her host, and Pompey wanted some private words with the Queen of the Amazons.
Following the Regent and Pompey out of the banqueting hall, he padded along silently as the Roman led the Amazon into a side chamber. Once the trio were within, the sentry who stood outside swung the door closed behind them. Pompey motioned Ephiny to a seat and took one opposite her. Hercules, sank down on his haunches by the doorway.
After a prolonged length of silence, the Roman leaned forward and said in the most casual tone he could manage, "I know why you're here." When Ephiny remained silent he continued, "You want to take the Warrior Princess back to Greece," he saw her eyes harden before he added, "and you want to rescue the true Queen of the Amazons, the bard, Gabrielle." He sat back and waited to hear how she would respond.
Three times they had almost fallen into ambushes set by the Roman troops that sought them. It was pure luck that they had managed to avoid them, although the last occasion had been a close run thing and it had only been Autolycus's quick thinking that had kept them out of trouble when he had managed to start a small landslide in a ravine.
Now they traveled with even more caution, finding places to hide as soon as daylight threatened, traveling only as night fell, and stopping before dawn broke. They had by-passed the city of Volaterrae, and any other smaller villages that they stumbled across, not wanting to leave more of a trail than possible in the memories of the people that Brutus would be able to track them by. Even so, it was obvious by the reactions they got from the odd traveler that they met on the roads in the early and late hours, that their descriptions were widely known and recognised. So they had taken to traveling in the rough country and avoiding everyone and everything. The farther south they went, the more patrols they had had to avoid. They had taken an easterly route and followed the path of the Via Cassia, before striking back towards the west in an effort to try and dodge the insistent patrols that dogged them. As Autolycus had predicted, the further south they managed to get the more soldiers seemed to be deployed to find them. Their lives had become a difficult game of hide and seek with their freedom, and Xena's, as the ultimate prize. It was frustrating, wearing and very hard on the nerves.
More and more frequently, Gabrielle found her thoughts turning towards her captive friend. She was certain that she was alive, for if Caesar had wanted to kill her he wouldn't have dragged the warrior across the countryside of Narbonensis, nor would he have bothered with sending her to Rome for safekeeping. No! What worried the bard, and haunted her dreams, was the knowledge that the Roman would be doing his very best to destroy Xena's resistance and crush her will. Confining her, chaining her, tormenting her, all these things would be taking a toll on the Warrior Princess, weakening her ability to confine the darkness that battled for the dominance of her soul. Gabrielle prayed daily that her friend would find the strength to hold on to her humanity.
After eight nights of hard traveling, they had found a concealed crevice in a rocky valley wall. Pushing through the spiky bushes that hid the entrance, they had discovered a hidden rocky bowl that was supplied with cool spring water. Relief was evident in all of them, knowing that they had found their hiding place just in time to avoid a patrol that was crossing the area.
Autolycus, who had lingered around the bushes to make sure that their passage was covered, heard the soldiers speaking as they took a break close to where their quarry was hiding. He crouched silently and listened intently to all they had to say, not moving until the patrol was far down the valley and well away from where he and his companions were hidden.
Moving quietly back to where Gabrielle and Joxer waited anxiously, he gave them the signal that all was well and that they were likely safe enough there for the day. Gabrielle lit a small, well hidden, cook fire, making certain to use only the driest wood to avoid smoke, so that she could quickly throw together a bean and lentil stew, into which she added a few chopped, wild onions that she'd stumbled across as they traveled during the night, and some of their rapidly depleting stock of salt pork. They needed a hot meal to keep up their strength if they had any hope of reaching Rome.
As Joxer laid out their blankets Autolycus sat down on a rock and, using the soft tones that they had all taken to employing in their current situation, informed the others, "Looks like our soldier friends are looking for some other 'fugitives' as well."
"What did ya hear?" questioned Joxer showing interest.
Autolycus poked at the fire until Gabrielle slapped his hand away, "Don't, you'll burn the soup," she scolded, "Now answer Joxer's question. What's going on? What did you hear?"
"Yes mother," he grinned insolently at the small honey blonde, getting another slap for his pains. As she opened her mouth to scold him again, he held up his hands in surrender and said, "Okay, okay, I'll tell you." He expertly stole a biscuit from the food packs, earning himself a glare from Gabrielle who jealously guarded their stores, before starting with a question, "You know we've been wondering why so many patrols have been heading north, when they've been tracking us south?"
"Yeah," agreed Joxer, "We thought they might have thought that we would try to double back on ourselves, only we thought that they thought that we would think ...." He sank cross-legged onto the ground as the thief waved him down and into silence.
Gabrielle, shook her head to try and clear it from the babble and issued a soft command, "Quiet Joxer," before motioning Autolycus to continue.
Giving the other man an intent glare and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "Joxer the mouthy!" the thief cleared his throat and continued, "Well it seems that the soldiers are after more game than just us, and from what they were saying, it looks like Iolaus and Toris have made it here and are looking to get to Rome as well. So," he said giving his mustache a brush with his index finger, a habit he'd picked up to show when he was being clever, "that means that Xena and Caesar are either on their way to Rome or are already there." He looked at the other two who watched him silently almost as if they were expecting him to say something else. Finally, to break the silence he asked, "Well what are you thinking?"
Gabrielle took a deep breath and forestalled Joxer when she replied, "This isn't going to make things any easier, is it?"
Autolycus looked a little surprised at the question and shrugged his shoulders as he answered, "Well, no ... but we're hardly any worse off, now are we?"
The bard stirred the soup absently, "Gods! why does everything have to be so difficult!" she muttered, before looking back at the thief, "Can we find Iolaus and Toris ... before the soldiers do I mean?"
Shaking his head, Autolycus nibbled on his stolen biscuit as he explained, "Too dangerous. Too impractical."
"Why," asked the blonde, who would have liked to have the other two men with them ... especially Iolaus, with whom she always felt a comforting bond.
"Because," returned the thief.
"That's not an answer you know," the bard told him softly.
"Alright. If you insist," came the huffy reply, "If we go looking for the others we're just putting ourselves into more danger, giving Brutus more chance to pick us all up. Now I'm not sure about you, but spending several painful years as a guest of Caesar is not on my top ten list of things to do. Besides the fact that if we do get snagged, we're just going to put Xena right back in the same fix she was in before I got us out of their clutches."
"You got us out of their clutches?" snarled Gabrielle in pique, "Who was it that managed, against all the odds, to get a fire going so we didn't freeze to death, as well as fixing your arm and his head!"
Autolycus looked at her in utter disbelief, "That's all very well, miss-I-was-taught-by-the-Warrior-Princess, but you never would have got the chance to do that if I hadn't got those chains unlocked so we could get off that boat. Besides which if I hadn't blocked that cave entrance, the light from your fire would have given you away, and you'd be sitting right now in some dungeon in Caesar's palace."
"Egotistical thief!" snapped back the bard.
"Irritating blonde!" snarled the thief.
"Purloiner of peoples personal possessions!"
"Bardic brat!"
"Um, guys" broke in Joxer, "Don'tcha think your being a little bit childish," he swallowed as he added, "and loud?"
"Shut up Joxer!" they growled together while glaring at each other.
A moment or two lapsed before a frustrated Gabrielle spoke once more, in substantially quieter tones, "He's right you know."
"Well that's a first," grumbled Autolycus moodily.
"Hey!" objected the other man.
"We can't let our nerves and frustrations get the better of us," continued the bard, trying to convince herself as much as the others, "We're just under a lot of stress at the moment and we need to calm down, for Xena's sake." She let out a long breath as she finished.
Autolycus crunched through the rest of his biscuit as though chomping on nails. The argument had sprung up out of nowhere, and Gabrielle had been right ... frustration, tenseness and fear, was getting to them all. He replayed the little spat in his mind and a wry grin edged onto his face as he said softly, "Purloiner of people's personal possessions. How in Hades did you come up with that?"
Gabrielle shrugged her shoulders and grinned back, "It's a gift. It's what bardic brats do."
"Um, sorry about that," he apologised.
"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have called you an egotistical thief," she replied.
"Well I'm glad you two have made up," interrupted Joxer, using his I-am-an-adult voice, "I was pretty well ready to give you two kids a good hiding,"
Autolycus looked at Gabrielle.
Gabrielle looked at Autolycus.
They both looked at Joxer.
Then at the pool the spring made.
Then back at Joxer.
"Uh, guys," said the wannabe warrior in a worried tone, as the pair stood and advanced on him, "Uh, don't do something that I'm gonna regret," he pleaded as they grabbed an arm and a leg each, "Hey guys!" he tried again a note of panic creeping into his voice as they picked him up and advanced on the pool, "This is not acting ..."
'SPLASH!!!!!!'
He sat up and spat a stream of water out of his mouth onto the rocky edge of the pool, before finishing what he'd been saying, " ... responsibly or maturely."
When he hauled himself out of the water, he was not happy about having to strip off all the wet leather again .. although at least the sun would dry it out while he slept. He wrapped a blanket around his skinny frame and sulked as he sat on another one waiting for his meal. At least the bout of silliness had helped clear the air between them a little bit, although Joxer was certain they could have found a way that hadn't involved him in getting a soaking.
For the first time in days, the brooding, fear laden atmosphere had lightened and the meal was eaten with a touch of friendly banter that even nudged Joxer out of his sulk. However, when they had eaten their fill, and before they settled to get some much needed rest, they knew that they needed to discuss the options raised by the news that Iolaus and Toris were behind them.
"You're certain we can't go back," asked Gabrielle more to herself than anything else.
"Far too risky," Autolycus reiterated. "Besides, since we're all going in the same direction, we've got just as much chance of bumping into each other, as we'd have if we went off looking for them."
"I suppose that's the logical way of looking at it. It's just ...."
"I know. You feel responsible for us being here," his brown eyes surreptitiously examined the bard and saw a young woman torn with concern, "but we're grown men, Gabrielle, and we made our own choices. You and Xena are our friends, and friends stick together. If I was in trouble, I know both of you would do your best to help me. In fact I remember a certain bard trying to free me from a chain gang," he said with a smile ticking the edges of his lips.
"Not very successfully," she laughed and then shrugged, "I know, I know, I'm just worried ...." she trailed off.
"What? About Xena?" smiled Autolycus, and then spotted her about to form an angry protest. He moved quickly next to her and draped a brotherly arm across her shoulders, "She'll be alright, Gabrielle. You know she will. She might be uncomfortable, and even in pain, but if anyone can cope it's her," he turned her despondent face towards him so that he could look her in the eyes, "And we will get her back ... that's a promise."
After so long of trying to be brave, the bard finally gave in to her need to cry and she sobbed into the thief's shoulder as she allowed the anguish and terror and guilt that she was somehow responsible for the whole mess to finally come out. Autolycus just sat holding her, gently smoothing her hair and making soft soothing noises as she cried herself out.
Joxer watched all of this from his seat on his blanket. He felt an irrational jealousy that Autolycus should be the one to offer comfort to the bard. Although he knew that Gabrielle viewed both him, and even to some extent the thief, as brothers, he couldn't stop himself from loving her. She was his great romantic passion. The unobtainable bard that he longed to make his own. Feelings he knew she didn't and would never return. A fact that scalded him to the very heart and soul. He turned his eyes from the scene and forbade the tears to form. Finally, Gabrielle, exhausted but far more relaxed, had lay down on her blankets and drifted off to sleep, joined shortly after by Joxer on his own bedding, while Autolycus had taken the first watch.
For most of a night they had scrambled through rocky gullies interspersed with noisomely fragrant marshes as the slipped past patrols or hid silently while soldiers passed them by. It was dangerous and intensely difficult to make any headway through the ring of troops that was getting thicker and thicker the further south they managed to go.
It was rapidly approaching dawn when the trio stumbled into a steep, down sloping, gully looking for somewhere safe to wait out the day. They were tired, irritable and had hardly managed to make any forward progress during the night at all. They knew that there was a patrol somewhere too close behind them and tracking them by torchlight, but as they struggled along the rocky ravine they had a bit of luck, or to put it another way, Joxer's bad luck gave them a place to hide in.
They were about halfway down the crevice when the 'warrior', who was traveling at the back of the group, gave a sudden low yelp that was almost immediately cut off. Gabrielle turned around and hissed, "Joxer," keeping her voice down, knowing that there were searching soldiers in the immediate vicinity.
She turned back up the gully, searching the dark ground for signs that her friend had fallen and knocked himself unconscious. She almost jumped out of her skin when Autolycus clamped a hand around her mouth and whispered close to her ear, "Someone's coming up the ravine."
"Son of a Bacchae!" she swore softly, "And I've lost Joxer."
"Oh great, just great," muttered the thief as he cast worried glances behind him, "The master of mayhem strikes again. I'm telling you Gabrielle ...."
"Hey guys," whispered a disembodied voice.
"Joxer?" answered the bard looking round vainly searching for him.
"Over here," the voice came again.
Autolycus zeroed in on where he thought the words were coming from and moved hesitantly over to the gully wall hands out before him. As he got close he could feel a covering of some kind of springy vine, but as he began to move along it a hand shot out and pulled at him.
"Whoa!" he cried softly as he found himself being swallowed by the vines.
Gabrielle, having seen the thief disappear, guessed that there must be some kind of hole that was hidden effectively by something. She crossed to where Autolycus had been standing and before she had time to utter a word, two pairs of hands grabbed her and hauled her into the enveloping blackness of a surprisingly large cave.
"Hey, cut that out," she warned them as she landed in a tangle of limbs with the two men.
"Sorry, Gab," grinned Joxer, "but you need quite a pull or a shove to get through those vines, and it was just easier to do it that way."
It was pitch black in the cave making it impossible for them to see each other, but over by the vine wall, the eerie cast of the moon allowed them to see something of the ravine outside. "Well," sighed the bard, "we can't light a fire or a torch," she said quietly to the others, "It would be sure to be seen." She turned her attention towards where she guessed Joxer to be standing, "How did you find this place?" she questioned.
"Well we warrior types, have many skills, ya know," he answered importantly.
"Quit that, Joxer, and just tell me how you did it?" she ordered.
There was silence for a few heartbeats as he tried to find a way to make it appear as something clever and cunning. But when it came right down to it, Joxer was a very honest sort of a person and he couldn't bring himself to lie to the young woman, even to make himself look better, - Well at least not sustain a lie, - he thought ruefully as he remembered the lies he'd told Gabrielle when her memories had been taken by Mnemosine. "I tripped," he answered.
"You tripped," persisted the honey blonde.
"And fell through that curtain," he admitted. "When I realised that you couldn't see where I'd gone, I thought it might make us a good base for the day," he added.
"That's okay, Joxer. You're right. It's perfect," she complimented him.
"Hush you two," warned Autolycus, "There's someone out there."
The three froze, listening with bated breath as they heard movement outside their haven. There was the sound of feet moving as quietly as could be managed on the rocky ground, and somewhat further away could be heard the unmistakable sound of metal jingling, a noise recognised by all three of the caves occupants as belonging to the equipment of patrolling soldiers.
As they continued to watch and listen, two men edged into view. They seemed to swap worried glances before looking back over their shoulders. To those within the cave it appeared that they were ready to sacrifice stealth for speed as they began to scramble up the gully at a faster rate. However, a noise ahead of them left the pair 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 those patrols, 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 were hauled back into, and beyond, the face of the ravine.
"Shhhhh!" ordered a familiar voice.
Toris and Iolaus tried to make out just where they were. The sudden blackness that surrounded them seemed to rob them of their reactions for the moment needed to become aware of the soft female voice beside them, "Keep quiet," Gabrielle told them. "We don't want the Romans to find their way in here."
Realising that they were with friends, the two men relaxed a little. Iolaus gave Gabrielle a delighted hug before turning his attention, with the others, to the vine curtain they had been dragged through to watch the passing of those that hunted for them. They edged cautiously closer to the vines and strained their ears to listen. As they waited they could all hear the heavy approach of soldiers coming up the gully following after the trail of Toris and Iolaus, and down following the tracks of Gabrielle, Autolycus and Joxer. They met, as could be predicted in front of the vine covered cave.
"Halt in the name of Rome!" ordered the officer in charge of the upward moving group, "State your business here."
"Is that you Leonicus?" questioned the officer in charge of the downward moving patrol, "Have you seen anything?"
"Oh it's you is it, Martinus," recognised his counterpart, "I was trailing those two men that have come south from Pisse. I can't have been far behind them, you must have seen them as you came down."
"I haven't seen them," the second officer denied shaking his head as he moved forward to stand with Leonicus, squinting up at the sky, pleased that the darkness was beginning to break, "I've been trailing that escaped slave and her two companions. They weren't that far ahead of me, but they seem to have a knack for disappearing just as we get close." He took off his helmet and wiped a cloth around the inside to mop up some of the sweat accumulated from a hard night's patrol.
Leonicus pushed back his own helmet and scratched at his short cropped hair, "Well the five of them can't have just vanished, Martinus. Well not unless they climbed the walls to this gully. They're pretty steep, more like a ravine in places. If you followed yours down, and I followed mine up, there must be someplace around here that they can hide."
"Well I dunno about that," returned his fellow optio, "This gully seems just about devoid of places to hide anything."
They were interrupted by a man in Martinus's command, "'Scuse me sir, but my brother and his wife live in Chalmis, that little village on the cliff above this ravine. He told me that smugglers used to use this gully and that they had some kind of cave about halfway up. Do you think that the runaway and the criminals could have stumbled upon it?"
That gave everyone pause for thought. The officers looked up at the sky and judged that they'd have light in less than a candlemark, "Alright men, spread out and be prepared for a thorough search of the area once we get enough light." He signaled a couple of men over and spoke with them in a low voice. Inside the cave, the five stood in miserable dejection. It was light enough to count heads and Iolaus calculated that there were close to a hundred soldiers out there. Once the sun came up and a serious search of the area started they were bound to be discovered. It was only a matter of time. If nothing else they were bound to send someone up to Chalmis and demand to be shown the whereabouts of the smugglers cave. He signaled to the others to follow him to the back of the cavern where they'd be able to talk in hushed voices without giving their location away, "Unless there's another way out of here, they're going to find us," he told his friends.
"We'd better see if there's a back door to this place then," offered Toris. "I'm not too keen on the idea of just standing around waiting for them to find us."
"Without a torch we've got little chance of finding another way out," put in Autolycus, "And if we lit one they'd just find their way in here all the faster." The thief took an educated look around the dark space, "Smugglers would have made sure that their bolt hole was well hidden. We could probably spend days looking for it and still not find it."
"So you're saying we should just give up?" demanded the tall dark-haired man with startling blue eyes, so reminiscent of his sister's especially when they sparkled with anger.
"Look! If they think that we're not going to cause them any problems, they might be lax enough so that I can get us out of anywhere they lock us up," he pointed out, "I am after all pretty good at what I do. What am I saying," he corrected in a pained tone, "I'm the best at what I do!"
"That's just why they're not going to be lax," put in Joxer, "Face it. Caesar knows what each of us is capable of and, besides anything else, as soon as they get their hands on us they're going to whisk Gabby off to somewhere where even Hades Legions couldn't get to her."
"Joxer's right," put in Iolaus, "So I figure what we've got to do is make sure that if all else fails, that she can get away. What I think we should do, is crash out of here. Me, Joxer and Autolycus will draw the soldiers attention, and as they concentrate on taking us, Toris can get Gabrielle to safety."
That pleased no one, and there were several hotly whispered protests before Iolaus got them to calm down saying, "One at a time, one at a time, and make it quick because we don't have long before they start searching."
"I don't like it, Iolaus. It's not right for you to sacrifice yourselves for me. I'm the one that got you into this mess, and it's me they really want. If I make a run for it they'll follow and you four could slip away and make a plan to help me and Xena later." she told him earnestly.
"It won't work, Gabrielle," he answered running a soothing hand down her arm, "Besides if we going to have any chance of getting Xena loose, we need to keep you out of Caesar's hands."
"But ...."
"No buts, Gabrielle. You know I'm right," the blonde man insisted gently.
"Well I think Joxer should go with her," Toris spoke up. "I fight better than he does, and it will buy more time for her to get away."
"Toris, my friend. I know that you're not going to like this, but you've got to go with Gabrielle for pretty much the same reasons. Xena won't put your life in jeopardy for her own. You're almost as big a prize as my friend the bard here," he said ruffling Gabrielle's hair as he spoke.
"That's nuts," snapped Toris angrily.
"But unfortunately true," repeated Iolaus. "Look it's almost fully light out there. We have to make our move now." He quelled the remaining grumbles with a stern look.
They moved back over to the cave entrance and noticed that the Romans were beginning to start to search. The hastily conceived plan of attack was for Iolaus to lead, being the only man, besides Toris, with a sword, and knock a couple of weapons free for Autolycus and Joxer to use. Once the soldiers had their hands full, Toris and Gabrielle were to slip out of the cave and head either up or down the gully, depending upon which route looked easiest.
With nothing else to be done, Gabrielle hugged each of the three men, trying to hide the tears that fell unchecked down her cheeks. She felt responsible for them, and she knew that Xena would too. It was only the knowledge that Iolaus was right about her own and Toris' importance to her best friend that made her accept the plan.
With one last look, the short blonde man leapt through the vines yelling at the top of his lungs, followed quickly by Joxer and Autolycus. Watching intently, Gabrielle and Toris could see that the noise and suddenness of the attack, caught the soldiers by surprise, allowing Iolaus to achieve his first aim, which was to secure weapons for his two compatriots.
All too soon though, the training and discipline of the legionaries slid into place as they began to close in on the three, using their shields as a form of barricade to surround their prey without causing injury. Seeing their chance, Toris grabbed the bard's hand and slipped out of the cave, intending to head down the gully. But no sooner had they edged their way out and around the milling mass, than they were suddenly borne down by a weighted net dropped upon them from above.
Toris fought furiously, aware that they had been negligent in not realising that the soldiers would take some precautions and set such traps in case their quarry tried to bolt. The mesh of the net, however, was strong and held both him and the bard secure until the legionaries were able to secure them.
Within moments the struggle was over. The men were disarmed and their hands bound tightly behind their backs, two men detailed to watch each of them, while Gabrielle had a leash attached to her collar and her hands tied in front of her.
The two officers, Martinus and Leonicus grinned happily. They would gain a reward from this and would rise in their commander's ranks. Things couldn't have gone better for them if it had all been planned, "Take them to Rome," ordered Martinus.
They had been ensconced in Pompey's palace for five days now and it had been a round of feasts and 'social gatherings' and generally a time where Rome's finest did their best to outshine each other, as they jostled to get a look at the barbarian Queen whole ruled over a tribe of women, and where men had been reduced to the role of mere possessions.
The Roman matrons and their daughters were fascinated by the concept, almost as much as they were fascinated by the hulking presence of Hercules. On more than one occasion he'd heard a Roman noblewoman speculate on the attributes of any other men that the Amazon's had at home. But there were other occasions when he truly wished he were deaf as they discussed his potential virility and various portions of his anatomy. It had taken all his strength of will to avoid blushing at some of their more pointed comments.
On top of all that aggravation, since their meeting with Pompey, they'd had no further news of any of their friends. Hercules allowed a frown to crease his brow as he thought about that first meeting between Ephiny and the Roman.
Ephiny had stiffened for a moment, before relaxing back in her chair, resisting an impulse to look over at Hercules. She knew it wasn't a well known fact that Gabrielle was true Queen of the Amazons. It was something both the bard and her people tended to keep to themselves as much as possible, because the Queen being out on the road, even with a 'personal bodyguard' like Xena, was risky. Gabrielle would make a tempting target for anyone seeking to hold the Amazons to ransom.
Settling on his haunches, knowing that he was in for a long session, Hercules waited to see how Ephiny would handle the situation. The Regent pursed her lips as she directed a calculating stare at the Roman, "We came here looking for Queen Gabrielle," she admitted, "Xena ...." she paused for a moment seeking the best way to tackle that particular bunch of thorns. "Xena is currently serving a sentence of banishment imposed by the Amazon council, but she remains Queen's champion, and as such is of concern to the Amazon people."
Hercules had watched Pompey intently through that speech, seeing no reaction, which gave the impression that the man already knew the situation ... something not really possible, - Unless he's been given a full briefing by someone. - He covered a frown by running his hand over his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes, - And the only way for someone to have such intimate knowledge of Amazon affairs is if they are an Amazon, - an idea that he discarded almost immediately, - or a God! - His thoughts immediately turned to Ares.
Pompey smiled. Hercules had never met either him or Caesar before, but from what he'd heard there was really little to chose between them. Both were obsessed in gaining ascendancy in Rome, and once that had been achieved, they wanted to rule the World! The one thing that was stopping either one from attaining his goal, was the cutthroat competition they had going with each other. - A small mercy to be thankful for, - thought the son of Zeus, - that and the fact that their hate for each other might just allow us to get our friends out of here. -
"Caesar has Xena," Pompey dropped into the silence, "but you already know that, or had guessed it. They are on their way to Rome, according to my sources, and should arrive any time now." He watched the blonde Regent for any sign of impatience, and found only a pair of brown eyes that had turned rock hard as they bored into him.
"He also had your Queen ...." he began before Ephiny interrupted him.
"Had?" she questioned pointedly.
Pompey smiled, as he rose from his seat and moved across to a table where refreshments had been laid for them, "Some wine?" he inquired politely, pouring one for himself and his guest when she nodded acceptance.
Ephiny, Hercules noted, had schooled herself to patience and had not pressed her question. The Roman was controlling the game for the moment, she needed to exert restraint if she was going to maintain a tenable position. She accepted the goblet that was passed to her and sipped appreciatively at the sweet red wine.
"Brutus was detailed to bring Queen Gabrielle back to Rome for safekeeping," he explained as he resumed his seat, "He also had two men, friends of hers I believe, in custody. The three of them escaped by picking the locks on their shackles and jumping off the ship in a storm ... quite a daring escape by all accounts."
- Autolycus, - thought Hercules immediately, - he must be with Gabrielle. But who's the other man? Iolaus or Toris? -
Ephiny softened her look a little, although the big man guessed that she was burning inside with impatience. He knew that she had a fiery temper, but his admiration for her rose as she, not only kept it firmly in check, but also presented the image of cool control as she asked, "And just where is my Queen now?"
"That," he admitted, "is a little difficult to say right now. Reports suggest that she and the two men with her, plus another two men that Caesar is interested in, are all currently heading south for Rome." He gave her a charming smile as he set his wine cup down on a side table, "Of course, Brutus is desperate to make good on his failure, and has got half the men stationed in Italia patrolling the area to make certain that they are safely back in custody, before Caesar returns."
- Four men? - thought Hercules distracted by the number, - Ephiny said that three letters were sent out, one to Iolaus and the others to Toris and Autolycus. Who's the fourth man? -
"What then," asked Ephiny in a level tone, "are you offering, or suggesting here?" Her look made it plain that there was nothing in what he had said that was of any real use to her.
Allowing the smile to linger on his face, Pompey leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, "I'm suggesting, that we take Caesar's toys away from him and upset his little plans." He gave her a speculative look of his own as he continued, "I've no doubt that you know all about my little ... shall we say contest, with Caesar. At the moment .. by holding the Warrior Princess and, if he retakes her bard .. he has the upper hand in our game. The pair are but pawns on a large chess board. I could...." He frowned, taking a draught from his cup before continuing the sentence, "easily find ways to remove those pawns from the game ... for good. However," he again smiled as he set his cup aside, "I found Xena to be quite stimulating when we met a short time ago and I would regret doing something permanent to her ... or your Queen of course."
Hercules saw the tightening around Ephiny's mouth as she recognised the veiled threat to her friends. Yet she waited, knowing that Pompey was merely establishing his position, knowing that he still had more to say. Something that he obviously believed would gain her co-operation.
"Personally," continued Pompey unworried by the sharp look he had attracted, "I'd far prefer to take them all away from Caesar and send them back home with you. It would annoy him far more, and of course, has the added benefit of retaining Xena as a threat to his personal safety."
"And do you have a plan for doing this?" asked Ephiny neutrally. She could not afford to appear too eager here. She would need to discuss her options with Eponin and Hercules before deciding what to do.
"Actually, I do," he told her with unassumed confidence, "At least as far as your Queen and the men with her are concerned. It might take a little work to extract Xena from Caesar's clutches. He really has an obsession with her, you know? Not that I blame him exactly, but it's going to make it all the more difficult to free her, and we're probably going to need her help."
Ephiny still wasn't sure whether this Roman could be trusted, but she recognised that he was playing a game that coincided with her own requirements, so for now, at least, it made sense to work together, "Xena will do nothing to endanger Gabrielle," she told him with certainty, even though her memory winced at the image of the bard being dragged from the village behind Xena's horse. "Before we can get her co-operation, we're going to have to prove to her that Gabrielle is safe."
"That is not going to be easy," he conceded. "Getting Gabrielle here and away from Caesar's men, may prove to be less difficult than could be anticipated, but getting a message to Xena, in a way that she would accept the message for truth ... now that is going to be far more problematical. Caesar has a full maniple of guards around her at nearly all times. No one gets to see her without direct authorisation from him. She has at least six guards watching her every move both day and night. The only time she's free of really close scrutiny is when she performs in a pit fight .. but then there are usually guards stationed everywhere around the pit watching her every move." He grinned, "Just in case she decides she's had enough and opts to try and dismember Caesar."
Ephiny frowned. She wasn't really surprised an that. Xena would, given the opportunity, attack Caesar no doubt about it. "These pit fights," inquired the Regent, an idea forming in her mind, "Just what happens? Are weapons used? And just what is the set up?"
"Can you honestly see Caesar willingly allow Xena to get her hands on a weapon? Any weapon?" he laughed at the thought of the discomfiture that such a situation would bring to his rival, "To be honest, she did actually get a dagger in one of those fights she had in Narbonensis. Some fool dropped the weapon to his fighter, hoping he'd beat Xena with it. She got hold of it and threw it straight at Caesar. He's got a nice scar down the right side of his face to show for it." He laughed again.
"The pit fights are kind of like private entertainment for the rich and the nobility. Most of the larger houses have their own gladiator pit, and often, during a celebration or dinner party, the host will have arranged a series of pit fights to entertain his guests. The guests usually wager outrageous amounts on the outcome of the fight, and Caesar has accumulated quite a large fortune by wagering on Xena." He thought for a few moments noting her interest.
"The rules and conditions of the entertainment are decided by the owners of the slaves or gladiators being matched together. Some may want to see a blood match where the fighters use weapons and fight until first blood is drawn. Others might wish to see a death match, which is pretty self explanatory. Caesar only fights Xena in unarmed combat, sometimes she's matched against a single opponent, more often she's expected to fight off two, three, four or more. The fight ends when one side is unable to continue."
"The gladiators in Rome are of a far tougher breed than those found in the provinces, and I have little doubt that Caesar intends to continue to use Xena to stuff his treasury. It's unlikely that he'll risk her in the coliseum fights, unless there is some huge prize to be won. The fights in the coliseum are always performed with weapons, something he'll probably consider too dangerous to allow. As far as I can see, the only way we can possibly contact her is to get someone into a pit with her." He arched an eyebrow in question at her, "Could one of your Amazons be persuaded to take on the task?"
Ephiny relaxed into her chair and allowed her eyes to warm a little, "I think we may be able to arrange something," she agreed.
Hercules groaned inwardly. He just knew that that particular task was going to come down to him. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, knowing that he'd have to spend some time here while Ephiny and Pompey exchanged a little social banter. It proved to be a long evening.
"Pompey knows exactly what we're doing here," Ephiny had reminded them, "How? Only the Gods know!"
"Never a truer word," put in Hercules, and continued when he saw her questioning look, "I think it's a fairly safe bet that Ares is taking a hand in this somehow, even though Pompey made it clear that Gabrielle was betrayed by that healer, Patroclese. Any information he gave Caesar, about the Amazons and Gabrielle's position with you, would have been kept strictly between the two of them, Pompey couldn't have got it from that source. And given Ares infatuation with Xena, I can only presume ...."
"Fine, so we've got him to worry about too," groaned Ephiny.
"Probably not directly," assured the big man. "Ares has a connection to Caesar. I doubt if he'd want to damage his relationship by direct interference, which is probably why he's using Pompey."
"We'll just have to keep it in mind," shrugged Poni, "and hope Artemis is watching out for our interests." She grinned looking at Hercules, "What kind of terms are you on with your sister?" she asked.
"I try to avoid too much contact with members of my father's family," he replied dryly, "It's not good for my peace of mind."
"Getting back to the point," Ephiny interrupted, "We need to keep Pompey happy and play along with him. If he thinks that we're not going to be of use to him in his conflict with Caesar, he may just decided to eliminate Gabrielle and the others. By doing that he'll probably ensure Xena's death, because I have little doubt that she would do something ... rash."
"Well what's the plan?" asked Eponin, straight to the point.
"I think that Ephiny has got it in mind that I earn my keep," offered Hercules smoothly. "I'm going to need to establish a reputation amongst the Romans as a pit fighter of some quality."
That's when his problems with the matrons of Rome had really started as well. There was something about a big muscular guy, who could beat the stuffing out of other men, without raising a sweat, that really turned them on. If he hadn't been a grown man, Hercules would have cried in frustration. - At least Eponin's leaving me alone, - he brooded moodily.
He knew that Ephiny had had a long serious talk with the other Amazon after seeing just what the big man was being called upon to endure. Eponin had grinned mischievously and muttered something about 'being able to wait' that had made the hairs on the nape of his neck rise, but at least she had backed off for the interim, for which he was profoundly grateful.
Pompey had not been able to get them any further information about the hunt for Gabrielle, although he had mentioned, earlier in the day, that the area around Rome had become thick with patrols as the net was slowly tightened to catch the game that was being hunted. He had also dropped some hints that he had men of his own out on the hunt, although they were having to be circumspect so as to avoid clashes with Brutus' men.
Hercules sighed. He was currently doing his best to stay hidden in Ephiny's rooms. There was another fight scheduled for the evening and he was supposed to be resting. He felt relief at being out of the public eye, but he was feeling unsettled; he was not used to sitting on the sidelines while events unwrapped themselves around him. He knew that he just had to be patient.
There was much coming and going as scouts were sent in to report on trails discovered and areas swept for sign of the fugitives. The frustrating, commonplace, answer was that no trace of the five, hunted, people had been found or, which was worse, that the trail had been lost. Brutus was beginning to get nervously fidgety, knowing that Caesar was on his way back to Rome.
Sitting within his tent, the darkly good looking Roman was contemplating the ruination of his political aspirations. He had been friends with, and confident to, Julius Caesar since they were little more than boys first making their way in Rome's turbulent society. He'd recognised the genius in his friend and had firmly hitched his wagon to that of Caesar's rising star, making a lot of enemies in the process, but counting that a fair exchange for his own advancement.
- Now, - he brooded silently, - Now, every thing looks like it's going to be destroyed by some bratty Greek bard, just because she gave me the slip! - he slammed his hand onto the table in front of him that was strewn with maps of the search area immediately around Rome. - She is somewhere out there, just beyond my reach, - he breathed heavily, - I can almost feel her. I just need a little luck and I'll have her! -
He looked up as Tribune Granius, the duty officer for the day, entered his tent and saluted sharply, "Lord Brutus," he began, "we have reports in from our patrols that have spotted troops of men sent out by the Senate and by Pompey. They seem to be checking on what our men are doing and are causing disruptions in the search patterns."
Brutus pulled a map from the untidy pile on his desk, "Show me where they've been seen, Granius," he commanded grimly. - That's all I need, - he snarled to himself. - If that vainglorious ass, Pompey gets his hands on them, I might as well start looking for a new career, because Caesar will never forget I failed him. -
The tribune spent some time pointing out the sectors in which troops from the senate and Pompey's IInd Legion had been identified, noting that at least two of the sectors were amongst the regions believed to be the most likely to be hiding the wanted fugitives.
"Have you had any word that they've found anything?" demanded the Roman commander.
"No my Lord. Both the Senate's troops and Pompey's are keeping mostly clear of our patrols."
"Make sure we have scouts keeping an eye on these 'interlopers' at all times," ordered Brutus. "If they find anything, anything at all, I want to know about it!" he instructed.
As Granius left him, Brutus felt the roiling acid of his stomach churn with an almost fatalistic knowledge that he was playing a game that he could not win.
Gabrielle sat despondently in the centre of a large tent. The others had done their best to try and cheer her up, but she was well aware what their capture meant for Xena ... the end of all hope. Caesar now had an even stronger hand with which to compel her friend into submitting to his mastery ... and it was all her fault!
Glumly avoiding eye contact with the four men who sat close to her, their hands still bound and all of them watched by alert guards, the bard sent out a silent message to her friend:
The others don't really understand just how terrible your situation is, or how bad ours will become once Caesar has us at his mercy.
All of this is my fault!
I should have done things differently. I should never have sent those letters to Iolaus, Autolycus and, especially Toris! By doing so I have given Caesar more power over you. Over us, because he will use our friends against both of us.
Please be careful in your dealings with him. He is not a forgiving man, and he intends, I think, to make your life Tartarus in this world. Try not to provoke him more than necessary.
I shall tell you all this when and if I get the chance to speak to you. I don't doubt that our 'master' will use me to hurt you, but whether he will allow me to spend time with you, I hesitate to predict. For now, I must hope that, by the Gods' benevolence, you will know that I'm thinking of you, and feel the message that I so dearly need to communicate to you.
Be well, my friend. Be safe.
I love you Xena. -
The bard shook her head, but looked up into his concerned face, and glanced around at her other companions, "I feel so helpless," she admitted with a miserable sigh. "After everything. All the effort ... everything. I'm back where I started, and all I've done is get you all into this fix as well."
"Sheesh, Gabrielle!" broke in Autolycus, "Why should you get all the credit for this? You did everything you could. It's not your fault that the odds were stacked against us."
"That's right, Gabby," chimed in Joxer, "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault."
She looked at the silent Toris, who focused on her with those so very blue eyes that were almost a match for his sister's, "No blame from me," he told her, "I would have come anyway, for Xena ... and for you."
She sucked in a deep breath and tried to force a halfhearted smile, which was pretty much a failure as she replied, "Thanks guys. You're all very sweet, but ...."
"No but's, Gabrielle," broke in Iolaus, "The games not over yet. Who knows, Herc might turn up to bust us loose yet."
Her attempt at a smile was a little better this time, "Okay, you win. But you might have to remind me sometimes. It just seems that very little has gone right for me recently. I think I must have some kind of curse on me."
"Nah!" shrugged the small blonde man, "It's just a phase. Happens to us all." He looked closely at the bard, knowing that she needed something to cheer her up, "Ah Gabrielle," he offered, "Did I ever tell you about the time just after Herc was turned into a pig, what Ares did to me and Autolycus for interfering with his plans?" He saw the spark of interest in her eyes and knew that she couldn't resist a new story.
"You promised you'd never tell anyone about that," groaned the thief knowing he was about to be embarrassed.
"It's in a good cause," Iolaus growled at him, "and I suffered too, you know."
"Come on Iolaus, spill it," ordered Gabrielle, the bard in her unable to resist a story and was grateful for the distraction that her friend was trying to offer.
Grinning, the blonde man began his tale, "It all started when a certain thief went and stole Artemis's bow, and then sold it to Discord. You know all about her turning Herc into a porker, I told you that last time we got together. Well after we got Herc turned back to normal, I kinda used the bow to turn Discord into a chicken."
"Oh, I like it?" grinned the bard, "I bet she was spitting feathers?"
"Well she wasn't crowing about it," put in Autolycus, "And Ares was more than a little bit miffed about the whole thing as well. Nearly laid an egg as I recall," he joked, getting groans from the others.
"Anyway, " continued Iolaus, "Ares decided that me and the thief were due for some 'serious' behavioural correction, so he chained us together with some shackles made by Hephestus ..."
"Yeah, and the miserable son of Zeus made certain that there weren't any locks to pick, either," grumbled Autolycus.
"But that wasn't the worst of it," came back the smaller man, "He also did something so that we could talk normally to each other, but all anyone else heard was some vicious snarling and growling ... pretty much how Autolycus normally sounds really," he added as an after-thought.
"You know, shorty, that smart mouth of yours is really gonna get you in trouble one of these days!" growled the thief.
"See what I mean," grinned Iolaus, getting a smile in return from the bard. "Anyway, did I tell you that Ares also left us in the middle of nowhere wearing nothing but a smile ... or a scowl in his case."
"That does it, blondie. When I get my hands loose I'm gonna ...."
"Yeah!" challenged Iolaus, "You're gonna what?"
"Hey guys," broke in Joxer, "just finish the story. It makes a change for someone else to have all the trouble."
"Break it up you lot," broke in the stern voice of one of the guards, "Just settle down and get on with the story, like he said." he emphasised pointing to where Joxer sat.
Autolycus rolled his eyes in resignation and listened as Iolaus continued with the tale, explaining how they'd managed to improvise clothes from stolen sacking, but then had been fighting each other so much that they'd fallen into a bog and got plastered in thick, evil smelling mud and were hunted by villagers, thinking that they were some kind of swamp monster.
"Then mastermind went and ate a gussenberry and passed out cold on me, so I had to lug his carcass along. Unfortunately, while I was crossing a rope bridge, I muttered something about wishing I had some boots. Well Ares was watching and, being Ares he thought it would be a great joke to let me have them along with size twenty feet. Autolycus ended up with the same treatment and we both had our features slightly re-arranged," he told them, pleased to see Gabrielle rolling with laughter, even if it was highly embarrassing for both him and Autolycus.
Next had come his explanation of winding up in a freak show cum Circus and that was where Hercules had found them, "Once Herc broke those chains that Hephestus had made, all the of Ares tricks collapsed. But things weren't quite finished. Ares enlarged Discord in her Chicken form and she came after us, and anyone else who got in her way."
"Let me tell you, that was one big chicken," put in Autolycus.
"Well, me and my 'partner' there, we cooked up a scheme using Gussenberries to knock the stuffing out of ol' Discord, and because Ares hadn't laughed so much in eons, he kind of let us off the hook."
Tears streaming down her face with mirth as she imagined just what had happened, Gabrielle finally managed to ask, "Why didn't you tell me all this before? And what happened to Hercules?"
"Ah, well. The reason I didn't tell you about this Fowl," he winced at the groans from everyone in the tent including the guards, "story was because I promised twinkle toes, over there, that I'd never tell anyone the gory details, but you needed cheering up, so... and as for Herc. Well once he set us free, he had to take Katherine, the pig, back to her home, so he missed all the fun."
"Thank you, Iolaus," smiled the bard. "I think I needed something to remind me that things could be worse."
Feeling better, simply for knowing that she had friends with her, Gabrielle settled down to get some sleep and was soon joined by the others. None of them were particularly comfortable, but they were all exhausted, so the day slipped by without them really being aware of it.
Gabrielle thought that it was less than a candlemark until dusk, as close as she could judge it, when Martinus entered the tent and ordered them to their feet, "We're leaving for Rome, now," he informed the guards. "Get them up and outside. I want to be ready to move within a quarter of a candlemark."
Standing next to Toris, the bard leaned over and whispered to him, "Something's not right here. I thought we were being held awaiting the arrival of Brutus before we were taken on to Rome, but we haven't heard his arrival, so it seems as if our captors were just waiting for nightfall before moving us."
"What do you think's going on?" Toris asked softly.
Gabrielle looked around trying to spot anything that might give her a clue as to where the loyalty of these soldiers lay. She remembered all of Xena's lectures about looking for colours, banners and badges, but she really didn't know enough about the Roman system to be able to make out anything of use, "I'd say that someone else has gotten interested in what Brutus is doing."
"The Senate?" suggested Toris.
"Maybe," agreed the bard, "Either them or Pompey. He'd want to inconvenience Caesar anyway he could."
The guards began hauling the men roughly to their feet and pushed them towards the tent flap. Toris got behind Gabrielle trying to screen her from the rough handling, and saw that the other men were doing pretty much the same around the sides, "Is being Pompey's prisoner a better prospect, or worse?" he questioned her softly.
Gabrielle thought hard for a moment, "Could be either," she reluctantly said at last, "It depends what game he's playing with Caesar, currently. As for what the Senate would do with us, that's anyone's guess."
"So we're not really any better off," muttered the big, dark haired man.
"No," agreed the bard, "Except ... " she added hesitantly.
"Except?" prompted Toris.
"Except, neither the senate, nor Pompey, is likely to know very much about some very specialised skills one or two of us have," she answered, "It might give us an important edge."
As with the other fights he had participated in, this one was to be fought without weapons. He was trying to build up a reputation in the unarmed combat field, a reputation that would be sure to attract Caesar's interest, especially with the vast sums that Ephiny was wagering on his victories. News of that would also reach Caesar, and with the man's unceasing need for dinars, the Amazon's deaf, mute champion would be an attraction he'd find hard to resist.
Crusher advanced on his intended victim, his arms were spread wide as he tried to corner Hercules so that he could pin him in his trade mark crush that so often broke his opponents back.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, the demi-god swung a decent right at the hulk, the kind of blow that would normally, at least, stagger anyone that it was thrown at. It connected beautifully on Crusher's jaw, snapping the brutes head to his right, but instead of falling or being forced back, Crusher slowly turned his head back towards the son of Zeus and grinned.
- Oh boy, - thought Herc as he backed up slowly. He needed to beat this man, but he had to make the fight look good, and it looked like he was going to have to exert more of his great strength to do so. The problem was, that he had to draw the fight out to impress the 'paying' public, which meant he was going to take some damage from the ham fisted brute strength of the lump of muscle looking to nail him.
- Ephiny, you are going to owe me big time for this! - he allowed the thought to register in his mind before ducking under one of the outstretched arms, only to be caught by a back flung fist that slammed hard into his shoulders, - Ooof! - he grunted silently, knowing that he had to avoid making any sound.
Spinning around he realised that Crusher was deceptively fast, for the man mountain stood ready for him and was in fact beginning to advance on him once more. - Okay chum, - the demi-god spoke silently, - let's see how you handle this! - and he launched himself forward in a charge, head butting his adversary squarely in the stomach. He heard the air whistle out of Crusher, and felt the vibration as the man dropped to the ground. However, Herc was too busy with his own pain to take advantage of the situation. Clutching his head he moaned to himself, - Ughh! What does he have in there? Rocks!? -
Shaking the crick out of his compressed neck he recovered in time to see Crusher getting slowly to his feet, a scowl etched onto his features, and deadly intent in his eyes, - Oh, Oh! Looks like I've got him mad! - his mind had time to register before a backhanded slap connected to the side of his head, leaving the sound of ringing bells as Hercules was thrown across the pit into the wall, - Guess he doesn't like getting hurt! - his mind teased.
Easing himself back up with the help of the wall, Hercules was confronted by the immediacy of his opponent, who gave a wicked grin and aimed a right fist that was intended to plaster the hero's face across the pit wall.
Herc ducked!
Crusher's hand hit solid stone and seemed to crumple as the bones shattered. - That's gotta hurt, - thought Hercules as he took advantage of his opponent's injury, by sending two crashing blows into the giant's jaw, driving him back to gain enough room to place a well timed kick to the groin that had Crusher folding up as he made small, animal-like squeaking noises.
When his opponent failed to rise to continue the combat, the demi-god held his hands up in a victory salute, as was expected, and ignored the excited applause of the crowd, and the happy winners who showered dinars upon him as a sign of their favour. Hercules was just pleased to escape from the pit so he could seek the refuge of Ephiny's suite.
"He's such an animal after a good fight," explained Ephiny adjusting artfully tousled hair back into place. "What can I do for you?" she inquired pointedly.
"My men have just brought in some prisoners. I want to see if you can identify them as your friends," he explained, "They may not be the right people, but they answer to the descriptions."
"Where are they?" demanded Ephiny pointedly.
"Currently? They're in my dungeons. I wanted everything to look as natural as possible to anyone who was watching .. spies are rife in Rome. They were brought in as captives so the natural place for them to be taken was the dungeon. But if they are your friends, then we'll have to find alternative accommodation for them ... as long as you are willing to go on with our plan."
The sea battle had effectively destroyed the bulk of the Carthaginian fleet, but a decision had been made to spend an extra few days mopping up any of the enemy ships that had escaped the carnage of the combat. Although Caesar was anxious to return to Rome, he was aware that his involvement in a crushing sea victory against Carthage, however tenuous his own part, would allow him a triumphal entry to his city.
Xena wasted little thought on reflecting how things had turned out. Three days on from the battle, and she was living in a world of searing agony, trying to cope with a back that had been stripped of it's flesh by Flaccus's whip, and the added torment of being left exposed to the merciless fire of the sun.
She was held spreadeagled facing into a section of grating that had been secured upright to the thick bole of the ships mast. She had been there for three days and two nights now. Three days of searing fire and pain filled delirium. Two nights of shivering agony and dark dreams. As she stood there, helpless, her thoughts continuously returned to the punishment Caesar had ordained for her.
Her head ached with a throbbing pain centred in her right temple where she had struck the deck as she was pulled off of her feet by Romans detailed to haul her up where she would be rendered helpless. The ache was intensified by the motion of the ship as she swung in rhythm with it and frequently collided with the unyielding mass of the thick mast.
- All in all, - she had admitted to herself, - I have felt better. - She winced as the roll of the ship swung her into the mast once more and she struck one of her tortured shoulders, - So Xena, was shaking Caesar that little bit worth this? - she asked herself. - Damn right! - she growled back in answer, - although I doubt Gabrielle will see it that way. And I don't doubt that Caesar has something far more ... agonising in mind for the morning. -
Bright lights flashed through her brain as the racking distress of those joints were intensified by the immediate pain of the fall. Biting her lip to stifle the groan that threatened to erupt, she sought to press her hurts into the compartment of her mind she maintained for the purpose.
She was aware of the rope being removed from her ankles, but the raw chaffing it had left was only a minor inconvenience in her current state. Far worse was the sudden rough grabbing of her arms as she was pulled to her feet. The induced agony of the movement and, after a night of being upside down, the abrupt change to vertical, led to a momentary loss of control.
She vomited.
A fist cracked heavily against her jaw, causing the lights to return and flash in turmoil as she struggled against her need to be sick again and tried to focus her attention on the world around her. She blinked owlishly at the livid face of Flaccus before her and realised that he had been the recipient of most of her puke. She allowed a half mocking crooked smile to play on her lips and braced herself for the backhanded blow that she knew she had goaded from Flaccus. - Dumb, Xena, - she chided herself. - Aren't you in enough trouble without practically begging for more? -
She felt the slow trickle of blood as it seeped from a fresh cut at the corner of her mouth and again deliberately allowed the mocking half smile to appear, as she realised that she could disrupt their immediate plans for her .. or at least their satisfaction in them. - Maybe, if I'm lucky, Flaccus will beat me senseless so I won't feel what Caesar's got planned for me, - she thought, and then added, - Yeah and Centaurs might fly! -
Flaccus had glared at her, before smiling a chilling, mirthless smile of his own. He knew what she was trying to do, "It won't work!" he growled at her, "You're going to feel every bit of what's coming to you. Afterwards .. there will be plenty of time for us to discuss the appropriate behaviour of a slave in the presence of a Roman."
She held his eye, knowing that she had made an implacable enemy in Flaccus. The man was devoted to Caesar, and she'd not only laid hands on centurion's hero, but had also caused injury to him. - What had Caesar said? He respects me. - Well Xena saw no respect there now, just cold, hard, determination to break a slave of her rebellious spirit once and for all.
"Bite me!" she growled, her voice hoarse from lack of water.
Then they removed her leg irons, moved her limbs apart and roped her ankles and knees in place, putting a heavy strain on her muscles knowing that she would, in time be forced to hang against the rough hemp bonds and endure the chaffing it brought.
- Little things, - she thought, - Minor irritations individually, but when taken as part of the whole .... - she allowed the thought to drift as she became aware of movement up on the stern deck. His arm in a sling, only wearing a light tunic rather than the armour that would seriously chafe his sunburnt skin, the deep purple and black of the chain marks around his neck. She permitted herself a quirky smile of satisfaction.
The men of the guard maniple began to assemble on the decks around her, leaving ten foot of deck space clear beneath the rail where Caesar stood.
- The maniple is beginning to shrink, - she noted, aware that she had hospitalised more than a few as well as killing some of the men who guarded against her escape.
Somewhere behind her, a drummer began to beat a steady tattoo. Xena, along with the soldiers assembled to witness the morning's punishments, watched as five men were hustled out on deck and were made to kneel facing where their commander stood. The rhythm of the drum halted.
"These men failed in their duty," announced Caesar, his voice made husky by the bruising he has sustained. "All know the penalty for such failure. For allowing the slave, Xena, to escape these men will be executed." He nodded to Flaccus.
Once again the drummer beat his tattoo, allowing a rolling flourish to orchestrate the show being performed, punctuating each death with a sharp rap on the stretched skin of the instrument.
"Publius Oranis!" Flaccus announced as a man in a black hood swung his axe and expertly decapitated the first of the men.
Xena's muscles strained against her bonds. She was the cause of these mens deaths.
"Lucius Trantares!" continued Flaccus, and the axe fell once again.
It was true that she would have sent them to the other side herself if it had meant she, Gabrielle and her friends could be free.
"Marcus Martellus!" came another name, followed yet again by the 'swoosh!' of the death dealing axe.
- This isn't punishment! This is murder! - her mind raged as she watched the continuation of Roman justice.
"Publius Voranus!" was the fourth name, and death.
- I will not be made to feel responsible for these deaths! - swore Xena, - All of these men treat me like a chained beast. -
"Brassius Davros!" came the final announcement from the list of the condemned and a final head joined the four others on the deck.
Silence washed across the decks in the wake of the crimson river bearing mute testimony to the justice of Caesar. "The sentence has been carried out, Lord Caesar," announced Flaccus.
"Let all remember and learn from it," warned the Roman nobleman.
- I cannot accept responsibility for his actions, - insisted the mind of the Warrior Princess, although her aching heart spoke otherwise, - If I accept this as my fault, I have no chance of ever freeing myself or Gabrielle. They chose to follow Caesar. They knew the risks of joining this detail. He and they must take responsibility! - Her practical brain told her.
She looked up into the remorseless brown eyes of her captor, - Do you ever feel guilt for what you have caused to be done? - she wondered as she expressed all her hatred and loathing in steely blue eyes.
Caesar smirked at her, knowing her to be impotent in her bondage. He waited until the bodies and heads of the dead men had been thrown over the side of the ship. Men derelict in their duty did not deserve the honour of a proper burial. - Another lesson for the troops! - thought Xena contemptuously.
"As for my slave," attention returned to the Roman commander, "her crimes are only to be expected. She is an uncivilized barbarian who knows no better ... yet! However, although I have no wish to execute this piece of property that I went to such lengths to acquire, she must learn a slave's place within Roman society." He looked sternly at his men, "I have little doubt, that even after this punishment, this slave will still struggle against her lot. Men! You must be vigilant against it. You have seen the penalty of failure. The reward, for those of you performing a duty well done, will be a gift of one hundred gold dinars each."
- Very clever, Julius! - she silently complimented him. - The carrot and the stick! You've shown them the price for failure and will buy their loyalty with gold. The consummate warlord commander! -
"The punishment for the crimes of the slave, Xena, will be twofold. She will receive fifty lashes ...."
His announcement was punctuated by the mutters of disbelief from the soldiers who had never seen anyone survive a whipping of that magnitude.
"SILENCE!" bellowed Flaccus, gaining immediate quiet.
"Fifty lashes," repeated Caesar, "split into two groups of twenty five. The first group to be administered now, the second twenty-five to be given at this hour tomorrow. The slave will be left bound to that grating, as an example to all, until we reach Rome. No one, other than the healer, Patroclese, or Centurion Flaccus, is to touch her, unless I specifically order otherwise." He nodded at Flaccus as he moved around behind Xena to executed the sentence of flogging upon her, the drummer once again beating out his tattoo in accompaniment.
And then it had ended.
She had hung shivering from the ropes that held her, drawing deep lungfuls of air as she tried to control her shaking muscles, tried to push the pain away. Tried to endure.
"I will remit the whipping tomorrow, if you beg for mercy, Xena," he told her starkly. "No more pain .. all you have to do is beg me."
Gathering her resistance she mustered the effort and forced the icy glint into her eyes, "Never!" she told him as forcefully as she could manage. The word quavered a little tinged with the agony she endured but her resolve was firm.
Caesar shook his head, almost sadly, "You will have to learn the hard way, Xena. But remember, the choice was yours." He turned away and moved a few steps, before stopping, hesitating and looking over his shoulder, "You have up until the punishment starts again tomorrow to change your mind. I won't ask you again, but I will give mercy if you beg for it."
"When Tartarus freezes over," she gritted out through clenched teeth.
Patroclese had come to attend the wounds on her back, carefully cleaning them with a strong vinegar solution that had made her writhe with the effort to keep her groans barely audible as the acidic astringent bit deep into the raw flesh that her back had been reduced to.
"Oh fine," she panted her tone larded with sarcasm, "Well there will be plenty more work for you tomorrow."
"Xena ...." he started.
"Forget it. Not now, not ever," she told him slowly as she forced down the agony.
Patroclese shook his head dejectedly as he continued his work, applying a soothing salve over the wounds, carefully working around the ones that really needed stitching, but unable to treat them because the resumption of the punishment on the morrow would just rip them out, "You need to drink," he told her, holding a flask to her lips.
She nearly choked on the fiery spirits as they burned their way down her throat, firing her blood, giving her a little extra strength, "I think I would have preferred water," she told him.
"That's next," he said holding up a skin and allowing her to drain what she wanted from it, "You also need to eat." She nodded acceptance and swallowed her pride as he spoon-fed her the gruel that passed for breakfast on the ship. "I'll be back to check on you," he promised.
The next day, - Yesterday, - her mind told her, had been far worse.
She'd had all night to think about what the coming day would bring. The anguish that her pulverised back had felt, screamed out against a renewed assault. She had an option. She could crawl to Caesar and avoid the pain, but that act would cut her heart and soul to ribbons.
She had not begged for mercy, and Caesar, via Flaccus, had given none. After the rope around her neck and waist had been removed, reopening the partially healed cuts, the flogging began again. This time the lash strokes ran from her left shoulder to her right hip, crossing the lacerations from the day before and burning like molten lava.
Her screams had started early. She tried to fight them down, but it was too much. Each lash wrung a response from her throat and tears had streamed unchecked .. uncheckable, down her finely sculpted cheeks.
She thought that she'd passed out before they reached the halfway point of the punishment. They had revived her with a bucket of seawater dashed over the wounds on her back, and then continued with the flogging, although she quickly succumbed to insensibility once more. She knew she remembered nothing after that, until she heard Patroclese's voice as he finished his ministrations. While she had been unconscious, he stitched what he could of her remaining skin back together and had done his best to ease her agony with a cool, numbing salve.
When Flaccus had put the ropes back around her neck and waist, she had surrendered to oblivion once more.
Now, after three days of hunting the remnant of the Carthaginian fleet, they were again turning for Rome. "Another three days," she had heard someone saying, "and we'll be home."
She sighed in weary resignation. Her chances for making an escape, once Caesar had her in Rome, would diminish significantly. There was nothing she could do about it. She was completely powerless, a situation she hated with all her being. Yet tied and helpless as she was, she couldn't help but hope, that somehow, someway, a chance would come.
As she stood beneath the blazing sun, thoughts of Gabrielle filled her mind and lulled her into a waking dream. She almost felt she could hear her gentle bard's voice as the sea breeze blew a welcome respite across her hot tired body. But, as she listened to the silent words a frown etched itself onto her brow.
"Not your fault, Gabrielle," she murmured in her half conscious state, "Never your fault." A smile played over her lips as she whispered, "I love you too, Gabrielle."
A bireme had been sent on to Rome to announce the great victory over the Carthaginian fleet, so the whole city knew to expect Caesar and Admiral Veranius and a triumphal procession was planned to escort the heroes to the Capitol where they would be presented with the laurels of victory on the steps of the Temple of Jupiter.
As soon as the news became known, it was decided that Eponin should return to 'Wave Dancer' and see if she could get a look at Xena as she was brought off of Veranius's ship. Although the rest of the fleet would dock at the lower wharves, outside the Servian Walls, the flagship carrying the Admiral and Caesar would moor not too far away from where Nebula's ship lay and offer a good chance to see what shape the Warrior Princess was in, for no one had any doubt that Caesar would have kept her close to him.
The Weapons Master stood at ease on the deck of the ship, leaning on the rail and talking quietly with the pirate captain, "You know, Nebula, Ephiny really wanted to come down here with me, but there was no way we could find an excuse for her to do so," she sighed, "Besides which, she had too stay at Pompey's palace to make sure that Gabrielle and Xena's brother, Toris, stayed put. They're both going out of their minds with worry."
"Their descriptions are plastered all over the city," the tall, dark, pirate told her. "You make sure that they all stay well hidden. That palace is probably the only safe place in Rome for them at the moment." She glanced up at the crowsnest where one of the Amazon's was keeping watch for the arrival of the fleet, "Anything?" she called.
"Nothing," came the reply, followed by, "Wait a minute .. Yes! They're just clearing the bend. The lead ship should reach here shortly."
"I hope she's okay," murmured Eponin showing signs of agitation, "Gabrielle is really jittery and she might do something stupid if she thought Xena was in real trouble."
Nebula sighed, "Caesar is not known for his mercy, and Xena hasn't got the reputation of someone who bends willingly to the command of others. I suspect that mixing the two is a recipe for disaster, and Caesar's got the strongest hand to play."
Frowning, the Weapons Master leaned as far over the rail as she could manage, trying to get a glimpse of Veranius' ship, "I can see it," she announced, "By the gods that's a big boat!" she exclaimed as she watched the trireme approach, oars rising and dipping to the beat of the drum heard through the bowels of the ship even at a distance.
As it came closer, Nebula frowned, "There's something wrong with the base of the mast," she told Poni, intrigued by the sight, "No," she amended, "they've got a grating up against it and it looks like they've got someone lashed to it."
"One of the Carthaginians, perhaps?" hazarded Eponin, although a sinking feeling she told her just who it was.
"Tall woman, black hair," informed the pirate.
"Oh gods. That's got to be Xena." muttered the Amazon in concern.
They waited, watching with stark interest as the big ship came ever closer. Across the river, they could see the men, women and children lining the banks to cheer their heroes home. Those on board the 'Wave Dancer' only had eyes for the woman bound to the grating.
"Sweet Artemis," whispered Eponin in utter disbelief, "Look at her back!"
As the trireme moved past them, the evidence of the brutal flogging that the Warrior Princess had taken was graphically illustrated by the crusted scabbing that covered her whole back. The occasional trickle of blood could be seen, caused when motion cracked open a healing cut.
"Poseidon's beard!" returned Nebula, incredulously, "I've never seen anyone survive something like that. I wonder how long ago it happened." She shook her head trying not to contemplate the pain involved.
"I'd better get back and let Ephiny .. and Gabrielle, know that they've arrived ... and just what's been done to Xena." She gave Nebula a questioning look.
"Don't worry, I'll follow her to find out just where they're taking her. I probably won't stand out as much as your Amazons," the pirate grinned.
"Be careful," cautioned Eponin.
"Always," the grin widened, "Just ask the big fella!"
"Can't," smiled back Eponin with a glint in her eyes, "Eph's banned me from going anywhere near him." As Nebula raised a questioning eyebrow she added, "Seems I make him nervous."
She left the ship quickly, wanting to get back to Pompey's palace before the streets became impassable.
Once the ship had started travelling up the wide river, Flaccus had released the ropes that bound her legs, waist and neck, "You'll be needing to use your legs so you might as well get some feeling back into them," he'd told her tonelessly.
The muscles spasmed violently and painfully as they were released and it was a toss up which hurt more, her legs or the raw patches on her back as the scabbing was disturbed by the removal of the ropes. - At least there's no infection, Patroclese did a good job, - she acknowledged. Truth to tell, the agony of her back had receded over the days to a harsh throbbing, - Either I've become used to the pain, or I'm healing pretty quickly, - she guessed. Whatever the reason, she knew she was lucky to be alive. Most other men or women would never have survived.
Slowly, she worked on tensing and relaxing her legs to get some feeling and control back in them. She knew it would take some time, which was why Flaccus had cut them loose. She didn't relish the anguish that she would have to endure when they released her arms. She guessed that it wouldn't happen until Caesar was ready to disembark, and she would be given no time to get any use back into them before she was chained once again.
As the ship moved slowly to its designated mooring place in the upper wharf, Xena was almost certain that she caught sight of a familiar face on one of the ships already there. - Eponin? - her mind queried, - Surely not! What would she be doing here? -
Sailors running around the deck obscured her view of the ship where she had seen the woman she believed to be the Amazon Weapons Master and, by the time she had an unobstructed view once more, whoever it was had gone. But she locked eyes with a tall, striking woman, full of confidence and dark good looks, and her eyes seemed to sympathise with her plight and say, - I know who you are, - yet Xena knew that she had never met whoever it was before in her life.
Her mind had been so intent on concentrating on the woman and her ship, that she failed to register the fact that Flaccus had spoken to her. Two sharp blows, one to each biceps with his vine staff, jerked her attention back sharply, forcing her to stifle a yelp of pain as her sun blistered arms seared on her locked muscles.
"You will learn to pay attention, slave," he growled as he took a firm grip of her hair and turned her head towards him, "If you show any sign of your tricks when we get off this tub, I'll have you staked out for a week, and then I'll have the rest of your hide off of you. You got that?" he demanded slamming her head against the grating for emphasis.
Xena's nodded reply was not acceptable.
"I said have you understood," he demanded once more and again slammed her head against the thick wood of the grating.
Wincing from the shooting stabs of agony that travelled up her lacerated back and into the newly created wound on her head that was starting to bleed, Xena forced out a soft, "Yes."
"I didn't hear you, slave," Flaccus told her as he banged her head down again, "Now say it again, louder."
"Yes, I understand," she said in a stronger voice.
"Sir," he said in a firm commanding voice, again smashing her head into the wood.
"What?" she questioned in slightly hazy confusion as the incessant pounding on her skull began to take it's toll.
"Yes, I understand, sir," he insisted cracking her head hard onto the grating once more.
"Yes, I understand .. sir," she repeated dully.
"Good, I'm glad we've got that settled. You're slow at learning, slave, but I've got all the time I need to educate you .. and your friend."
He saw the sudden tenseness in her frame as his words registered and recognised the fire that flashed in her eyes as a rekindling of her rebellious nature, "Keep your hands off her, Flaccus," her voice, settled into it's lowest, deadly, register, warned him.
"You're backsliding, slave," Flaccus returned, a note of mock regret in his words, followed by half a dozen heavy numbing blows to the backs of her thighs, "Now what do you say?"
"Go to Hades!" she snarled with venom.
"Wrong answer," he replied with exaggerated patience, once again beating her legs with his staff. "You keep this up and that little bard is going to be a mass of welts from head to heels," he warned, "So I'll ask you again. What do you say?"
He watched as Xena, breathing heavily against the burning agony of her injuries, forced her stubborn will back down. She swallowed a couple of times before forcing out the words that brought bile to her mouth, "I beg forgiveness."
"Sir," reminded Flaccus almost gently.
Taking a shuddering breath and screwing her eyes shut against the humiliation she repeated, "I beg forgiveness, sir," self-deprecation in every line of her body.
"Much better," Flaccus almost purred, "and as a reward, I'll let you off of that thing early, so long as you sit quietly and behave yourself. What do you say to that?"
Xena knew the technique. She'd used it herself often enough in her past. Inflict unbearable pain until you got the concession you wanted from the prisoner, and then give a reward. After the overly harsh treatment the merest relief from the torture seemed like an act of great compassion and kindness, bringing gratitude from the sufferer, who moved one step close to total subservience. Xena knew the game, yet still she felt the gratitude well up within her at the thought of being let off the grating a mere candlemark or so early.
She forced her will to stamp on that feeling, - I will not be broken like some animal, - her mind flared, - But I need to make him think he's winning. Perhaps, then, he'll leave Gabrielle alone. - "Thank you .. sir," she managed to grate out without it sounding full of sarcasm. She loathed herself for doing it, but would do whatever she could to protect the bard.
It had been a long while since they had used Gabrielle as a direct threat, but now that she was within their reach, the threat had potency once more and could be used to whip the Warrior Princess into line, with far better results than applying the physical lash to her would bring.
"There's a good girl," Flaccus chuckled as he held his hands out, to a waiting guard, for the heavy leg irons with the long chain between the cuffs. He knelt down and quickly locked them into place. Next came the leather belt, the Centurion reached around her and then tightened the three stiff buckles behind her back, making her gasp at the fiery torment the leather raised.
With a sharp dagger he cut the bonds on first the right arm and then the left, both falling limply to her sides. After six days of being held in one place, the muscles had grown stiff, set, and unresponsive. The sudden change of position brought tears to Xena's eyes as lancing pain shot through her arms.
Lifting each of her unresponsive hands in turn, Flaccus locked the manacle cuffs around her wrists, before taking the collar chain being offered by a third guard, and locking it firmly to the metal about her neck, "Sit," he instructed firmly, and smiled grimly as the woman sunk onto the deck after a moments hesitation. He waited until the grating had been removed before locking the leash around the mast, "The healer will be along to check your wounds and feed you. Make sure you behave yourself," he warned, poking her with the toe of his boot when she failed to respond.
Drawing another deep breath, she answered dully, "Yes .. sir."
"Far better," approved Flaccus as he turned to go, "Keep a close eye on her, a griffin doesn't change it's feathers overnight."
Xena squeezed her fists closed and looked blue eyed murder at Flaccus's retreating back. She could and would endure what she had to keep Gabrielle from harm. - But someday, Flaccus, you and I are going to have a short conversation in a dark corner. -
She shook her head and muttered, "Ephiny's not going to like it when I tell her what I've seen." She looked around the ship at her six borrowed crew members. Each of them bore a grim look on their faces, moving tensely as if ready to throw themselves into a fight. If their reactions were anything to go by, the rest of the Amazon's were going to be fighting mad, and the rescued Queen ready to go to war to recover her friend, "Hercules isn't going to be too happy either," she mused quietly. "Ah, Nebula, you old pirate, how do you manage to get yourself into these things?" she asked herself with something of a mocking chuckle.
Artemis stared over her shoulder, "She's tough. The only thing keeping her from breaking that centurion in two is the fear that Caesar's still got my Amazon Queen to threaten her with. As soon as she knows Gabrielle is safe, those Romans are going to find out just what one Greek woman can do."
"It still sucks, ya know?," shrugged the Goddess of Love, "I mean the Warrior Babe and me have never been close ... fact is she's interfered with some way cool arrangements I've had going. But Herc's kinda gone on her, so she can't be all bad. And she really knows how to yank Ares' chain ...."
"'Dite what are you rambling on about?" demanded Artemis impatiently. She was rewarded with a sisterly glare.
"It's just so uncool," she pouted, "Why don't we just ...."
"No way, 'Dite. We go interfering down there and Ares will know. We can't do anything yet, but we'll have a chance to play too soon." grinned the goddess with the chestnut hair, her face suddenly seeming very young.
"Grody! That's a real bummer. I hate just watching," grumbled Aphrodite moodily.
"Just chill out a little, sis. Things will work out fine ... so long as Ares doesn't work out that Herc's in on the gig," she added as an after-thought.
"Yeah well you better hope so, 'cause I happen to know that our muscular bro has a thing about the Warrior babe, and I'd be really bummed out if he got wasted over this. Hera's been way, way not fair to ol' Hercola and he doesn't need more negative vibes."
"Don't worry so much, 'Dite. We'll be there for him, and more importantly for her too. I want her to know who she's gonna owe a big favour to."
"Just remember I'm doing this more for Herc than anything else," warned the Goddess of Love, who really did care for her half-mortal brother.
He brooded thoughtfully as he thought about the possible problems and implications that his direct interference would raise, particularly with Caesar, "Oh well, the arrogant pup can be taught a lesson or two and Pompey is far more ... respectful. It might be just as well to give Julius something to think about ... let him know just where his allegiance should lie. Pompey will prove quite useful in accomplishing that."
His eyes flickered back to the images of Xena being tormented by Flaccus, "Soon, my sweet!" he promised, "You need just a little more fire, just a spoonful more rage before you'll be willing to listen to my offer."
She'd been chewing over the problem of just what she could and should tell Ephiny and Gabrielle, knowing that the likely reaction from her young, feisty Queen was going to be explosive. What she needed to do was get Ephiny alone so that she could sketch out the situation to her first and work out the best way to handle the bard.
The Roman guards ignored her as she took the marble steps two at a time, heading for the palace's entrance hall. From there she ran along the polished floor, putting the brakes on to skid to a halt outside of a double-doorway that led into another high domed hallway, with a long, broad double-banistered stairway that wound it's way to the upper apartments where she knew that she'd find the Regent.
Her anxiety stemmed from her desperate need of news of Xena. She fingered the hated collar at her neck as she paced out the length of the rug to the bed end, before turning to make her way back to where the blonde-haired Amazon sat watching her with a worried frown on her face. The bard ignored her.
- What's taking Eponin so long? - she asked herself for what seemed the hundredth time, - Surely the fleet's in by now. Why hasn't she come back and told me what's happening? - She stopped in mid-stride, her eyes widening as a wave of unreasoning fear hit her, - She hasn't come back because she's seen something really bad. Maybe Xena's dead and Poni's trying to avoid telling me! -
"Gabrielle?" Ephiny said concerned as she saw a wave of panic sweep over her friend, "What's the matter? Gabrielle?" she started to stand to go over to the younger woman.
"I've got to go," the bard said suddenly. "I need to see if she's alright."
"Gabrielle," the Regent said calmly, reaching out a strong hand to restrain the younger woman, as she tried to brush past and head for the doors. She tightened her grip when the bard tried to shake her off, and placed herself firmly in front of her Queen, securing a hold on her other arm as she did so, "You know you can't do that, you know all the reasons why you have to stay here, that collar not being the least of them. You won't do yourself, Xena or any of the rest of us any good if you just rush off and get caught. They're still looking for you, you know."
A wild gleam flashed in the bard's eyes. "Perhaps if Hercules tried again?" she pleaded, "He might be able to break it open if he had another try, and then I wouldn't be so noticeable. I could go and look for myself."
"Gabrielle, stop that!" Ephiny commanded firmly. "If I have to call the guards in to restrain you, I will," she warned her friend.
"You wouldn't do that, Ephiny," the honey blonde said with an almost frantic desperation.
"Wouldn't I?" came the flat reply, "There's too much at stake here to risk you throwing all our hard work away because you're not mature enough to wait for Eponin to get back here with the news."
Drawing a deep breath Gabrielle forced herself to get a grip, "That's not fair, Eph. You have no idea what he's been doing to her."
"Neither do you," the Regent replied gently, "Let's just wait to hear what Poni has to say. We've managed to get you and the others back in one piece, don't ruin everything now. What would Xena say if you allowed yourself to get caught again?" she asked.
"I know ... you're right," agreed the bard dejectedly, "But, Eph, for days now I've had this feeling that something's very wrong .. and just now, I felt ..." she threw her hands up in frustration, "Oh, I don't know what I felt, but I know she's in trouble." She slumped into the seat that the Amazon had just vacated and chewed moodily on a thumb nail.
"Gabrielle, even if you got past me, past the Amazon guards and Pompey's guards, both sets of whom have got orders to stop you, Toris and the others from leaving the palace, what do you think you were going to do?" asked the Regent gently, knowing her friend was a frazzled bundle of nerves.
"I ... I could ... O, Gods Eph, I don't know, something, anything! This just sitting waiting is driving me nuts!" growled the bard.
"Fat lot of sitting you've done so far," laughed Ephiny lightly, "You've just about worn a hole in that rug!"
"Oh, Ephiny, I know. I just can't settle." she gave the Amazon a weak smile, "At least when Joxer, Autolycus and me were running from Brutus's men I didn't have time to brood ... well not much time," she conceded.
The Regent sat down beside the young woman and put a friendly arm around her shoulders, "It will be alright, Gabrielle. It may take us a little time, but we'll get her back." She looked deeply into the troubled misty green eyes, "Hey, what chance does Caesar stand against a demi-god, a whole bundle of Amazons, a master thief, a hunter, a .. a ..."
"A Joxer," grinned the little Queen.
"Yeah, a Joxer, an ex-warlord's amazingly look-alike brother and a very, very determined bard. Hey," she gave the smaller woman a quick hug, "he's got a representative section of Greece up against him, and he's not going to know what hit him."
"Thanks Eph," smiled the bard.
"For what?" grinned back the Amazon.
"For caring. For being here. For helping Xena. I know you must still have worries after ...." she was interrupted by a finger against her lips.
"Shhh! Gabrielle. As I said before, I owe Xena my life several times over, what's more I owe her the life of my son, and the whole Amazon Nation owes her it's existence. Where would I be but here to help her when she needs it?"
However, the chance never came. Four guards remained outside the cell the whole time they were in there. Admittedly, they were more interested in their dice game than their prisoners, but while they were posted there, the thief had no chance of opening the lock without being spotted and an alarm being raised.
They had been in there less a candlemark when the guards brought around a small loaf of bread for each of them, and a bowl of thin turnip soup. All of them had tasted finer fare, but they were hungry and the warmth of the soup was welcome in the dampness that seemed to permeate all dungeons as an essential element of their existence.
Finally the five of them had settled down for some sleep, knowing that exhaustion would make escape from captivity all the more difficult. They had insisted that Gabrielle take the bench, the rest of them had just found a patch of stone floor for themselves and huddled against the chill.
Toris knew that he hadn't been asleep long when he was disturbed by some kind of commotion at the prison door. He edged up onto his elbow and noted that the others were showing signs of interest in what was happening. All of them were alert as a proud looking Roman noble walked in with two women dressed in the exotic garb of Amazons.
"Ephiny?" he heard Gabrielle question softly, disbelief evident in her tone. The bard had scrambled to her feet and rushed over to the bars, "Ephiny?" she said in a stronger voice, "What in the name of Artemis are you doing here?"
Toris had moved from his place on the floor, to stand just behind the small honey blonde woman, his eyes studying the details of their visitors, taking it the arrogant stance and bearing of the blonde, good looking, Roman as he stood silently inspecting them all in turn. His eyes had widened slightly when he had looked at Toris and the dark haired man knew that the Roman had met his sister before.
He returned his glance to the Amazon with the fair curly hair and serious brown eyes as she answered the bard's question, "Looking for you," she had smiled, "Honestly, Gabrielle, I don't think I've ever met anyone with your ability to find trouble so easily."
"Ephiny!" protested the bard.
The Regent ignored her friend's indignation, and smoothly continued, "I recognise Autolycus ..."
The thief executed a precise bow and grinned, "Good to see you too, Ephiny."
"... and Joxer," she added, looking towards him as he grinned back at her, "So, I presume that you," she said looking at Toris's short blonde friend, "must be Iolaus, and you," she turned her eyes towards him and paused for just a heartbeat as she recognised the electric blue eyes in the face of a familiar seeming stranger, "can only be Toris." She smiled at the slight scowl that had etched itself onto his features, "Oh yeah! A definite family resemblance there."
Ignoring the scowl that had deepened on his face, Ephiny gestured to the Roman at her left hand side, "This is your and my host, Pompey the Magnus," she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling at the title, even though she was aware that the man had earned it in battle. She found such things just too pretentious.
"We've met before," responded Gabrielle flatly.
"I know, Gabrielle, but the others don't know him," agreed the Amazon. "I don't think any of you have met my second in command, Eponin, either," she finished the introductions by indicating the dark haired woman at her side. "As you've probably gathered," she said to the men, "My name is Ephiny and I have the somewhat dubious privilege of being Amazon Regent in the usual absence of our Queen, Gabrielle."
"Ephiny," broke in the bard, her frustration beginning to show, "Are you going to get us out of here?"
"That depends ..." began the Regent.
"Ephiny!" broke in Gabrielle in exasperation.
The Amazon held up her hand to cut off her friend, "It depends on whether you all give your oath to remain hidden in Pompey's palace. We cannot afford for any of you to be seen. There are soldiers searching everywhere for you, and that's only going to intensify with Caesar on his way back to Rome."
Gabrielle looked at Ephiny with an almost rabid intensity, "Are you sure?" she demanded, "Is Xena with him? Is she safe?"
Toris had also stepped forward eagerly at the Regent's announcement and gripped the bars with a fierce concentration that was not lost on either Ephiny, Eponin or Pompey, "Will we be able to free her?" he growled his voice pitched low with eager desire to succeed in this.
Ephiny looked at the pair. Their need was almost palpable and she could give them no reassurances, "All we know for sure is that Caesar is on his way back to Rome. It is likely that Xena is with him, and it's going to take a lot of work and cooperation to be able to pry her loose from Caesar's grip."
She gave the pair a stern look, knowing that it was these two who were going to cause the most problems, simply because they were the ones that Caesar wanted the most, "Now, do I get those promises?" she asked, or do you want to stay in there?"
It hadn't been too bad the first day. Especially since he'd got to meet Hercules! He almost chuckled as he remembered Iolaus's face when he'd entered their suite of rooms to be confronted by his best friend.
Hercules had clasped his oldest friend in a warm embrace before saying, "You have no idea how good it is to have all of you here safely. With Brutus beating the bushes for you, we've felt powerless to help you."
Iolaus had grinned at the demi-god and said, "Hey, buddy. What brings you here?"
The tall, tawny-haired man smiled lazily at him and said, "When so many of my friends disappear, do you think I'm going to stay home and leave you all to have the fun and adventures."
"Hah," grumbled Autolycus, "You'd have been welcome to my place in this adventure. Not that it's not good to see you."
Toris had seen the big man's eyes fall on a subdued Gabrielle. He held open his huge, muscular arms, and the little bard flew into them sobbing, "Oh Hercules, you have to do something to get Xena away from Caesar. He's doing terrible things to her. I've seen it, I know it."
His massive hands gently stroked the young woman's hair until she had managed to gain control of her emotions. Then, holding her away from his body so he could look down into her green eyes, he told her solemnly, "I know, Gabrielle. We have a plan, but it means that all of you are going to have to stay hidden until we're ready to leave here. Will you do that for Xena?"
His blue eyes had held hers until she agreed to what he was saying, "One other thing," he told them all, "Here I'm known as Heston. If there are any Roman's about I cannot be seen to speak or listen to you .. it's part of our plan."
"Do we trust Pompey?" Toris had asked, drawing the demi-god's attention for the first time.
Hercules had looked him over with a professional eye before saying, "You must be Toris." he held out his arm and had taken the dark haired man's in a warrior's grip, "And in answer to your question, no! We trust no Romans, however friendly they may seem."
They had spent some time discussing the plans they had made for freeing Xena before Gabrielle had asked Hercules to break her free from the hated collar she wore. Hercules had smiled at her and fastened his strong hands on the metal exerting his strength to pull it apart. His huge muscles bulged, but the collar remained stubbornly in place. He'd tried two or three more times to break the obdurate metal, but with no success and had to finally surrender the struggle, although he promised to find a way to get it off of the bard as soon as he could.
With nothing else pressing for their attention everyone had finally turned in for the night, the erstwhile prisoners being exhausted from their travels. The next morning they had heard the news of the Carthaginian defeat and Caesar's victorious return.
He looked up as the door opened and one of the Amazon guards poked her head in, "Queen Ephiny asks that you all come to her rooms. Eponin has returned with news."
Toris almost flew off the bed in his eagerness to get to someone who could finally give him some news about Xena. He was closely followed through the door by Hercules and the others, all of them eager to hear about their friend.
"Just the two Queens," came the reply from Kyana
- Damn! - thought Eponin, - If I stick my head in there, Gabrielle's going to be all over me. - "Um. Do you think you can get Ephiny out here without letting Gabrielle know I'm back," she asked.
"Bad?" asked Hakine.
"Couldn't have been much worse without her being dead. Truth is I couldn't see how she managed to stay alive. Now just get Eph out here. I really don't want to have to let Gabrielle know this until I hear what Ephiny thinks," the Weapons Master told them.
Eponin stepped back out of view as Kyana opened the door and stuck her head round it to say, "I'm sorry to disturb you majesties, but Pompey has sent a messenger asking for your immediate attendance, Queen Ephiny."
Eponin heard Gabrielle say, "Should I come with you, Eph? Do you think he has news of Xena?"
"No, I don't think so. If Pompey had wanted both of us he'd have worded the message that way, and I think Eponin will be faster than any of his messengers." A slight pause, "Do you want to stay here or go over to the other suite with the men."
Eponin held her breath as she waited for the bard's decision, "No, I think I'll stay here. My head aches and I'm just too fidgety to be good company at the moment. Besides I want to be here for when Poni gets back."
"Fine Gabrielle, I'll try not to be too long," promised the blonde Regent.
Eponin could hear her friend as she crossed the floor of the large room and approached the door. As the Regent stepped out she saw Eponin and hesitated for an instant as her eyes widened in surprise. The weapons master raised a finger to her lips and beckoned the blonde forward.
Throwing a quick glance at Gabrielle, who had resumed her pacing, Ephiny stepped out quickly and allowed the heavy door to be swung shut behind her, "What's going on?" she demanded, "Did Pompey send a message or not?"
"No Eph," assured Eponin softly, "I just thought you'd better hear this before Gabrielle or the others do."
"That bad, huh?" she asked in concern.
"Gods, Eph! I've never seen anyone live through the kind of abuse she's been taking. It can only be that stubborn will of her that's keeping her alive." She proceeded to explain to a grim faced Regent just what she had seen.
Within moments she realised that she couldn't face being alone. She might not be able to have a civilized conversation with anyone, but she needed to have friends around her, in a way, as an assurance that she wasn't in this on her own, and that there were people there to help her.
Making a decision that she'd be better off with Iolaus and the others, she headed for the door and wrenched it open in time to hear Eponin's rather vivid graphic description of just how Xena's back looked. "Eponin?" she said in a quiet, frightened, voice, "Is she alive?"
The weapons master gave her a worried look and moved quickly to the young Queen's side, closely flanked by Ephiny, "She's alive, Gabrielle," Poni assured her, "She's pretty beat up and they're not treating her with kid gloves, but she's definitely alive and doing her best to stand up to them."
"You said her back looked raw?" the bard asked in almost a whisper, "What did they do to her?"
Eponin shot a worried glance at the Regent who gave her a short nod to answer, "Nebula thinks they whipped her ... a lot, many more than twenty and ..."
"What?" asked Gabrielle, pain written in her eyes.
"They crossed the lashes, Gabrielle. It's like cutting the skin into little diamond shapes. It really rips the skin up and doesn't leave a lot of whole flesh on the victims back once it's been done."
"Oh Artemis," Gabrielle closed her eyes to keep her anguish hidden from the two Amazons. - Xena, you promised me you'd be careful! - her mind railed, "When Caesar first took her he ordered her flogged and she took just twenty lashes. She nearly died from it."
"Gabrielle, I promise you she was far from being dead. I won't lie to you, she didn't look good, but she didn't look ready to book a place on Charon's boat either," Eponin tried to lighten the tone a little, "I think her injuries were well tended."
"Patroclese," said the bard simply.
"The healer that was with you at the village?" questioned Ephiny.
"Yeah, he's Caesar's personal physician," confirmed the honey blonde.
"Do you think he's told Caesar about you connection to the Amazons?" asked the Regent intently.
Gabrielle shook her head, "I don't think so. Caesar or Brutus would have made something of it." Her brows furrowed in concentration, "I think Patroclese felt really guilty about his part in all of this. He owes Caesar everything, but I think he likes me and Xena and he's been kind as far as he was able .. No I don't think he'd have told Caesar."
Both Ephiny and Eponin sighed in relief, "That might just be the key to making this thing work," the Regent muttered. She glanced around realising that they were still standing in the corridor. Pulling Gabrielle towards her apartments she motioned Eponin to follow and then sent Hakine over to ask the men to join them.
"If Caesar lays eyes on you, the whole game is finished," Pompey said grimly. "I couldn't protect you and Caesar would have all the leverage he needed to keep his hold firmly on the Warrior Princess. I won't allow that to happen."
"Gabrielle, Toris, you must have patience," pressed Ephiny gently, "You know we're right about this. The Amazons will attend this parade and I'll tell you exactly what I saw, and how she was coping as soon as I get back."
"Alright, Eph," conceded the bard reluctantly as she looked at Toris until he gave a nodded agreement, "I hate leaving all of this to others. Xena's my partner. I should be there for her .. she'd be there for me."
"She'll understand, and believe me as much as she'd like to see you and Toris, she'd far rather you be kept safely away from Caesar," insisted the Regent.
"How long do these things last?" asked Xena's brother of Pompey. When he'd heard about the punishment that had been inflicted upon her, it had taken Hercules to prevent him from ploughing through the guards and out of the palace. He'd calmed down enough now to put a cap over his erupting anger, but it still bubbled waiting to explode at the least excuse.
"The parade and the presentation of the Laurels will take about a candlemark or two, then there's the victors feast." He shrugged, we should be through a few candlemarks after nightfall.
Iolaus moved over to his friend and touched his elbow gently, "We can wait, Toris," he told him calmly, "We've waited all these moons now, a few more candlemarks aren't going to take forever to pass."
Toris took a deep breath, forcing his impatience firmly down. He needed to be rational and clear sighted about this, - More like Xena - his mind quirked in thought. He forced his tense body to relax.
Iolaus gave a small smile to Ephiny, "We'll be fine. Just get back as quickly as you can. Are you taking Heston?" he asked casually.
The Regent appeared to consider that for a moment, "Yes, I might get the chance to wager on him in a pit fight."