Disclaimers: First of all, this story is a follow-on of sorts to the Bacchae Trilogy by M.Keck, which means that it is set after the end of Season 2 but before Season 3. Events that occurred in the trilogy will be referred to and characters who appeared in the trilogy first will appear here, so it will be easier if you read the trilogy first to understand this story, although it isn't vital. Graphic violence will be portrayed in this story, so if you don't like that kind of thing, don't read it. Yes, I do think Gabby and Xena are an item, but there won't be anything graphic on the sexual side in the story-well, no orgy scenes, but people do have sex you know. There will also be other relationships of a sexual nature portrayed, heterosexual and homosexual. If your too young to read that kind of thing, wait till you've grown up, if it's illegal where you live, move or vote to change it, and if it offends you or insults your beliefs-tough. You don't have to read this story, and I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who will if you don't, so don't bother sending me hate mail and death threats because they will be ignored and deleted, okay? Intelligent criticism is appreciated, and should be sent to: NR185@lamp.ac.uk

Part 2

The comparison between them, she'd always thought, was that of animals, wild, untameable beasts that ruled over all that they surveyed and were willing to fight to protect it, no matter the enemy. Xena, unquestionably, was a Hawk, all-seeing and all-knowing when she put her mind to it, with a brilliant mind and memory and a superb body that she could mould almost to her desire, so perfectly formed and developed she was. She didn't know how lucky she was, but she'd learn, Red knew, if her long "life" had taught her anything it was that as you got older things worked better and better for a time, then slowed down until you reached a point that lay below the standards you had once held as a child, and you either accepted it or died unable-not something that she'd ever experienced, admittedly, or ever could or would, but she'd seen it happen to countless others over time, to the point that mortal lifespans were now little more than flickering candle flames in the wind to her, there one moment, gone the next. She knew that she'd be seeing the grey in Xena's hair in a matter of what seemed like hours to her but were decades to the proud Warrior, and that she'd still go on and see the same in Xena's grandchildren and their grandchildren unless she finally met one of the few beings that were capable of killing her. Immortality, even the cursed form that she'd been "gifted" with by Tersis, was a curse in any form, but she'd long since ceased to care about such things. In all honesty, she'd really ceased to care about almost everything after that little episode so many years ago, and a heart of stone that allowed her to shrug off the blood of thousands that she well knew covered her also kept her safe from such feeble things as friendship, affection or even caring about anyone or anything, even herself-with few exceptions, two of which existed on the ship she was now on. It could have been three, but Caesar would never know that he had forfeited that by his casual treatment of her after their time together, as though she was just another woman to him, and one day he'd regret that, she knew. No man or woman was an island able to stand alone in the tide of life unaided and unattached, no matter who or what they were, even her, as she'd found out to her cost some time ago. The difference that existed between having one true friend that you could rely on with absolute trust and faith and tell anything to, who would judge you by who rather than what you were, and having to or choosing to survive by yourself alone as one could be in the wide, often-empty world, was impossible to simply understand, it had to be experienced, and her long desire for solitude and bouts with the madness that had barely failed to claim her after her change had made her more appreciative than most of it. A simple outstretched hand, the offer of simple companionship and company, friendship and support that had so long been away-these things were the clear and simple difference between insanity and death or sanity and life to her. That was why her heart had never completely closed itself to others, despite her long life and the inevitable pain she felt again and again at loosing them, and that was why her unhinged mind still held together somehow after all this time. She smiled, her eyes flickering over her opponent in the big empty area they used for sparring below decks, and considered the dark-skinned woman, with her curly auburn hair, soft dark-brown eyes, slim body covered by a rough dark cream-white tunic and leggings, her feet bare. A Celtic knot hung around her neck on a long, strong piece of string and her natural, animal grace and poise were obvious as she stood, loose and ready, in an unarmed combat pose waiting for any assault, taut, strong muscles shifting under her skin. The woman was M'Lila, and she was a Celt, despite the fact that she'd born in Egypt and taken from there as a slave by raiders from Gaul, and she was easily one of the most skilled fighters that Red had ever come up against. She was Xena's trainer at present in those same skills, and had been for some months, although it was hardly unknown that Xena, evidently developing a taste for women, had taken the striking Celt to her bed as well as to her heart and mind as a tutor, evidently with M'Lila's consent, since neither of them ever sported new bruises afterwards. She was the only person on the Lion of Amphipolis except for Xena herself, who had a ship to run, who even came close to being able to allow her to push herself, and Red was the only person on the ship that M'Lila couldn't defeat in single combat with absolute certainty. It made for interesting contests, and, though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone else, a bond had been forged between the two of them by their constant contests that went far beyond simple friendship, affection, or even mutual respect for one another based on a knowledge of the others skills and talents, beyond even the single night that they'd shared when they'd both been lonely, the sea and ship had been calm and quiet and everything had simply seemed perfect, almost absent touches becoming caresses which led to much more. Red was becoming afraid that she was becoming considerably more fond of M'Lila than was wise by any standards, love perhaps not being such a tall tale any longer, while M'Lila was becoming increasingly confused by the mysterious woman's half-open half-closed manner towards her, as though she was being pulled in with one hand and pushed away with the other, as though the immense feeling of loneliness that she could feel coming from Red, just wanting and waiting to be filled, was somehow keeping the woman from her while still undeniably drawing them together. M'Lila had always considered herself a good judge of peoples natures, and what she saw in the mysterious red-head both repelled her and attracted her as she was sure that nothing else ever would, or could. Red was sunk so deep in the meaty darkness of blood and death, corruption and filth, life gone to Tartarus and back then on to somewhere else far worse, that it was impossible to understand and very nearly made her physically sick around the woman. Despite this, however, the woman had a strange nobility and strength, of purpose and of spirit, and a simple purity of soul and spirit despite herself, like lightning illuminating the night-dark sky, that it drew her in like a candle-flame drew in moths, making her want to loose herself in the woman's embrace, physically or otherwise, making her want to know the mystery woman better, body and soul, wanting to understand her. It was a strange feeling, really, partly based on animal attraction, part on fascination with the mystery that the woman was, part genuine affection that was, she couldn't help but notice, growing steadily stronger. The Leopard, fast and cunning, strong and quick, her, and the Phoenix, the firebird, the one who rose from the ashes of who he, she or it had been before, stronger and better than it had been before but never quite the same. Her, the only description, only way of describing the mystery woman that made any sense at all. If you touched her you got burnt, unless she let you, she was danger personified, life and death in one, what she could give with the one hand she could take with the other faster than the eye could follow, like flames burning high in the night as wood was added, there one moment, gone the next. Also, the predator never failed to raise its head in her eyes in times of danger, a beast within that simply could not, would not fail because it did not know what the word meant, a beast that would track and haunt you to your dying day, a monster that could not be stopped, that took pleasure in pain and death, in ways that no-one could ever understand, burning fire-bright, fire-light in those ghostly pale eyes. She was a Warrior, trained and experienced, she knew what she could do and was capable of, but she knew when she was in the presence of a master, and used it to her advantage. After all, how often did one get the opportunity to learn from such a fine tutor? Even in nothing more than a short dusty white tunic and dark-blue leggings the woman's aura of danger alone would have put off most opponents, and she'd taken a sword off of a fully armed, armoured and trained veteran Roman soldier who'd been fighting to defend Caesar when Xena had taken him with her bare hands and beaten him to death despite his armour in horrifically short order in a way that had, in no small part, contributed to the rapid surrender of those few survivors who had been sold into slavery rather than been ransomed as Caesar had been. "Lead by example" Xena always said, "Actions speak louder than words"-and Red's actions certainly had. "Ready?" asked Red, flawlessly speaking the Celtic tongue, shifting her stance to a ready position, feet firmly placed and hands raised ready in a combat pose that M'Lila had seen used effectively-repeatedly-against her, but she was little nearer to grasping even the basics of even after over two moons of trying. However, that didn't mean that she was going to stop trying, even though she was sure now that Red was more than mortal to be able to do all the things that she did, so she breathed in and prepared herself as best she could. "Ready" she replied, knowing that, in truth, it would take years before she would be close to being ready for Red's assault. The red-head nodded-and attacked. She came at M'Lila with a basic feint and a straight cross at a speed that defied eyesight, but M'Lila managed to roll with the punch, spotting the feint, and came smoothly to her feet despite a ringing head from the force of the glancing blow, despite the fact that Red was pulling her blows. She countered with elbows and the edges of hands in surgically precise strikes at vital areas for movement and limbs, nerves and joints, but Red blocked expertly and all M'Lila struck was blocking hands and arms. A low sweep of the leg from M'Lila suddenly swept out, low and quick, but Red flipped to her hands in a handstand to avoid having her legs taken from her, and she flipped back to her feet out of M'Lila's reach before the dark-skinned woman had even fully recovered from her strike. Using her natural speed and agility to best advantage despite her superior opponent, M'Lila let loose a series of quick blows from her hands and feet that momentarily kept Red blocking, then suddenly changed tack and slammed a knee into Red's groin while her attention was elsewhere-but it wasn't, and a quick twist left M'Lila's knee nothing more than a solidly-muscled thigh to strike. Red struck back with a double-fisted flat-palmed punch against M'Lila's stomach and lower ribs, but M'Lila managed to twist enough that the blow hurt rather than knocked her off of her feet or blasted the wind from her lungs, although it left her staggering. With a wicked smile Red advanced into the assault, feinting left and right, high and low, using feet, knee's, hands and even shoulders to keep M'Lila backing away, all of her concentration focused on keeping Red's blows from touching her body rather than her blocking arms and legs-then she simply stepped back out of reach, leaving M'Lila stumbling for a second as her opponent abruptly disappeared. Twin striking hands lashed out, hands and fingers fixed like swords, and crashed into M'Lila's ribcage left and right, inflicting sharp and short pain rather than injury as M'Lila gasped, grimacing. Following through, she finished with a punch to M'Lilas's head that would lay her low with a bruised jaw-she ducked, and Red's fist cracked against one of the posts supporting the decks of the ship. The pain momentarily distracted her, and in that time M'Lila rolled over and around her in a blur and the heels of her feet crashed against the back of the knees of the far stronger Red, one of the few manoeuvres that would topple the agile woman with any certainty if done right. Red's legs buckled and her knees cracked against the floor, then, suddenly, M'Lila's arms were around her neck in a grip that would have allowed her to break the woman's neck if she'd been inclined, a triumphant grin on her face. Unfortunately, at this point she thought that she'd won, and forgot the one thing that you always bore in mind about the red-head when engaged in a challenge with her-you never got a second chance. If you had her, then didn't finish her, you'd know why the next day-if you lived. Brute strength that exceeded that of several strong men suddenly wasn't held back any longer and Red surged to her feet, nearly taking the startled M'Lila's arms from their sockets as her grip was broken effortlessly, then Red span in under the space of a second and delivered a sword-hand blow to M'Lila's throat. The dark-skinned woman suddenly found herself unable to breathe for a long moment, or do anything else, and it was simplicity itself for Red to take her legs from under her with a single swift movement that blasted the air from her paralysed lungs-just before she abruptly tried to breathe in, leaving her coughing, gasping and choking for several long seconds before she managed to get enough air into her lungs to control herself-only to find herself staring straight into a pair of snow-white eyes that were mere inches above hers, and breathing on a set of full lips that were attached to a beautiful face that was so close to hers that any movement on her part would bring them together. She forgot about the pain in her back or her ragged breathing, and almost everything else as she felt the red-head's long, curved body pressing into hers as the woman lay atop her, supporting herself on nothing but her elbows. This close, intoxicating was the only word for the woman, her beauty attracting the eyes like a magnet attracted metal, her long crimson-red hair, long silken strands brushing against the bare skin of the dark-skinned woman's arms like the soft caress of crystal clear and pure cool water against the warm flesh, reviving, cleansing of cares and worries, and, in this case, she had to admit, arousing. The soft, sultry smile on the red-heads face that lit up her face and strange eyes was doing nothing to help her retain any self-control, either, nor the feel of long, muscular legs against her own. It was taking all of M'Lila's considerable willpower and self-discipline to stop her from letting the woman do what she clearly wanted to right there and then, and she was fighting a loosing battle. She gritted her teeth, forcing her responding body to obey her even as Red lifted a hand and slowly began to run long fingers through her shoulder-length curly auburn hair, in a caress that was unmistakably that of a lovers. She-was-not going to put on a show for any crew members, not even Xena if she was watching, not even for this woman-if she could stop herself and what was occurring now, which she doubted, but that wasn't going to stop her trying. Besides which, she and Xena had an understanding, had a relationship going that she was sure of, and she was sure of Xena's feelings where the red-heads were a mystery to her, especially in relation to her, despite their time together-Red's chuckle stopped her thoughts dead. "I understand your reasoning, lover, I have no intention of putting on a show for anyone either, but we won't, so don't worry about it. I've-made certain arrangements to be sure, and not with Xena before you ask, now hush, relax..." she said, and, even as M'Lila tried feebly to protest, the soft but firm touch of Red's lips on hers quickly banished any thoughts of protest or question that she might have had, and, inexplicably, impossibly, she found herself believing the red-heads promises...

"She-is-INSANE!" exploded Red, throwing her hands in the air in a gesture of angry helplessness as she snarled out the words, striding back and forth across the deck of her dark cabin in the long dark deep-sea blue shift that she wore in bed. She'd never explained why, but for some reason she almost never went out in the sun, and when she did it was almost always when the sun was either almost disappeared over the horizon or when thick clouds blocked out the light. It was a subject of great debate among the crew, and the general suspicion was that Xena knew why, but she'd never even hinted as to what the reason was. M'Lila, who was currently standing just inside the closed door of Red's cabin after having come down to tell the woman what was going on, and who was also rumoured to have a good idea of the reason but couldn't tell anyone because only Red spoke her language on the ship, just shrugged, looking equally unhappy and helpless as she did so. Red rounded on her, "Your certain that its Caesar himself?" she snapped, an expression that would have caused a great deal of worry to anyone who did not know her as well as M'Lila did and worried even her. "Yes, the ship is flying his flag and he was spotted by the lookouts on its bridge. The moment Xena knew she gave the order to let them come aboard, and she's acting like a lovesick child at the moment, wearing her best clothes for him and refusing to carry any weapons when he's near. I wouldn't put it past him to let her believe her sweet little dream for a while and then cut her heart out with a smile, but she won't listen to me, and I doubt she would even if she understood all I was saying to her. Might she listen to you?" M'Lila said. "Not a chance in this situation, they say "love is blind" and Xena's the living example if I'm any judge. How many Roman Legionaries are there aboard his ship?" Red replied, quickly running various plans through her head in an attempt to be able to respond to any possible situation that might occur. "Twenty, but his personal Bodyguard are aboard too, veteran Centurions, and the Legionaries are of an old regiment of his, one I know for a fact to be the most experienced and lethal under his command as General. Xena's crew is completely outclassed in every way, and Xena is in no position to do anything about it even were she to realise what is truly occurring here. We might be able to tip the balance if we helped, but it is far more likely-" M'Lila said, but Red interrupted her, "That we'd be killed as well, even though night should favour us. This situation is hopeless, and if Caesar is here to take prisoners then I'll expect to see two moons in the sky tonight when we go outside. No, the only thing we can do to help is to escape with our own lives and come back later, if there's anything to come back to. Don't worry, though, I know Caesar's type, he wants his opponents dead, yes, but he'll want them to suffer first, so if were quick and he's not then we should at least be able to save some. Get anything you want to keep and meet me at the tiller deck, and expect a long swim" said Red, practically snarling as she wrenched off her shift and started pulling on her clothes and armour. M'Lila nodded her assent, willing to follow Red's lead, but paused for one last question. "One last thing, my friend. What do you think that he will do to her?" she asked, quietly. Red paused in pulling on her clothes to look at M'Lila, and raised her right eyebrow. "He likes to crucify people, and he orders their legs broken if he wants them to suffer as he watches, but after what Xena did to him?" Red said, shrugging. She looked M'Lila in the eyes, "She'll be lucky if he simply has her tortured, thrown to his men and then crucified with broken legs and leaves her to die. Best not to think about it otherwise. Now go" Red said, and pulled her black tunic on over her head. M'Lila didn't need to be told, or hear, anything else.

It wasn't that she'd never met a God before, she had, more than once, but this was, she had to admit, the first time that one had come looking for her. As well as that, unlike most God's she'd met, who had a tendency to simply expect respect and adoration because of who and what they were, which had left each and every one of them with ego's the size of Greece in her opinion, this one looked like he knew what he was doing and was quite capable of taking care of himself if necessary. On the other hand, any decent God of War should be able to do such things in her opinion, and this one, dark-black leathers gleaming in the moonlight, darkly gleaming sword held easily in one hand, sneer on his handsome face, raven-black hair and eyes easily visible, was likely better than most in her opinion. She had proof of this, too, split lips and a cut inside her mouth on her left cheek where her teeth had caught her flesh when he'd punched her leaving her tasting her own blood, small cut on her right upper arm dripping blood down her arm. Very few people, God or otherwise, had ever successfully sneaked up on her, but he had, and the only reason that her head was still attached to her shoulders was that he hadn't expected her to be able to practically ignore being punched in the face by a God and almost cleanly parry his strike at her neck, the tip of his sword nicking her arm. He hit like a spiked hammer swung by ten strong men, and the punch alone would have killed any mortal, but he either had no experience with her kind or just didn't know what he was up against. However, if Ares, Greek God of War, wanted her dead, especially in Greece itself, especially with Bacchus and his Bacchae soon to be aware of her presence and coming for her, then she was in a great deal of trouble. "I'm impressed" he said, his voice deep and rumbling, feinting with his sword and casually driving a quick punch to her jaw, which barely connected as she rolled with the punch and span out of reach, "I normally leave you and your kind to Bacchus and his Bacchae girls, but if you can give me a run for my money then I'm almost tempted to change my mind. Almost-but not quite" he added, striking at her in a quick three-cut combination that completely failed to penetrate her guard. Not that it mattered, he was only toying with her and they both knew it, he could likely blast her to pieces merely by concentrating if he put his mind to it, but his eyebrows rose nonetheless. "Even better. Nice sword, by the way, but your going to have to get something better than a Bloodsword if you want to do more than tickle me" he said, before stabbing his sword at her gut, which she parried, and kicking at her knee, which she dodged. "Can you tell me why? Or are you normally this bad at distracting your opponent in a fight?" replied Red, leaning out of the way of his slashing sword smoothly and countering with a thrust to the chest which pricked through his leathers but missed his flesh as he quickly stepped back. "As to the former, Xena, unless your too feeble-minded to understand that. As to the latter? Well, I wasn't actually trying to since your such a poor conversationalist, but if you insist..." he replied, a screech of steel on steel howling in the air as their swords locked together before being wrenched clear. "Unless M'Lila dies that won't happen, and we both know it. Besides, Xena's safe, I helped M'Lila make sure before she took her away" countered Red, slashing sword nicking Ares leathers again but failing to bite on his flesh, his counter cutting into the flesh of her side just under her breastplate, but the flesh wound barely even drew her attention. "Unless, of course, Caesar had help" replied Ares, with a wink, just before his sword, to his annoyance, did no more than draw a line of sparks across her breastplate as she momentarily froze. She leapt back and circled even as Ares wondered just what her armour was made of, since no mortal-forged metal could have resisted his blade yet her breastplate was barely even marked, looking him in the eyes as a deep and dark bloody red clouded her once-clear eyes, fingernails extending to black talons half as long as her fingers as her foreteeth extended, her grip on her sword shifting slightly to compensate as she let her self-control slip. Her grin bared her fangs clearly, but he was unconcerned, knowing enough of her kind to be sure that such a display could do nothing more than irritate him. "Temper, temper" he chided her, taking a step backwards on the grass of the field, just above a cliff, just in case, "No need to get all upset just because your about to die, your lover is as well and one of the few people you have ever really respected is about to give herself to me, body and soul-" he said, but she interrupted him. "Ares" she said, her voice a snarl, "You've never seen me very upset, and as for Xena, one word says all-fool" she replied, then she lunged at him. Her speed had doubled, her strength had increased at least ten times and her hand-eye co-ordination and agility, he couldn't help but notice, had suddenly become a great deal better than his. He made a mental note to find out more about her kind, Vampire, and to pay Bacchus a visit after he'd killed this one. If they could all do this, then he was missing a considerable opportunity for recruiting new warriors of a level of perfection that few humans were ever likely to reach, and, unless he could get a few alterations to their agreement with Bacchus about staying out of Greece on pain of death as long as Bacchus and the Bacchae existed, he was never going to be able to exploit this fact. However, to his annoyance, he found himself unable to block even half of her blows, and his leathers were slashed up badly and his skin nicked as he tried. Resolving to end this quickly, he gathered his power and began to focus it-but they hit each other at the same time. Finally succeeding in drawing blood, Red's Bloodsword shimmered, going from Red to black suddenly, and she focused her concentration sharply even as Ares did, but his blast of energy hit her full-on and catapulted her from her feet, throwing her over twenty feet backwards where she crashed into the earth and was driven through the soft ground once she hit it for a further five feet before she came to a halt with a groan, her sword lost, her body smoking and burnt, pain coming from all over. Unfortunately for Ares, however, who'd never heard of Blood Majik, she completed her own spell just as he blasted her, and the blood in his veins boiled like molten lava a second afterwards, steaming blood pouring from his every pore as his heart momentarily stopped beating, even though God's couldn't die of such things. To the God, it was like he imagined it would be being dipped in an active volcano if he were mortal, only worse because his immortal body could indeed survive such punishment, although it hurt like Tartarus, but his brain stopped working since the pain overloaded every nerve in his body so he wasn't rational enough to consider anything like that as he fell to his knees and screamed in agony. It would have been worse, but he'd nearly knocked the caster unconscious the moment that the spell had been cast and it wore off after a few seconds, which felt like hours, leaving him breathing like he'd run around Greece without stopping once an hour for the past day as his vision cleared, just enough for him to see the injured Red slowly rising from the ground. "Bitch" he muttered thickly, and pointed one hand at her, first finger pointed at her head, and cast the most lethal spell that he knew. She should have been banished to the void for the rest of time instantly, and, as her form shimmered and seemed to vanish, he thought that she had, but something-something that even he had no idea of the nature of-was momentarily left clear to his eyes. It was the same shape as the vampire but was darkness itself, its outline indistinct and obscure, humanoid but not, and, even for that single split second, he felt a drag coming from it, something that warped everything around it in ways that he never wanted to know about, everything shifting, twisting-it looked at him without eyes, its head turning so that the face was towards him, and he knew what it was in a moment of cold clarity that penetrated every last darkest pit of his dark soul. If it was possible for a God to die of fright he would have there and then, but instead he simply teleported as far away as he could and screamed, and screamed, and screamed, still somehow able to hear its hissing, sibilant voice-"A sssign of thingsss to come..."

Nine summers ago...

The dark-haired woman smiled as the sword was successfully struck from her opponents hands, and drew back her sword as the unarmed woman took a step backwards, single eye widening, nowhere to go-the steel blade, gleaming silver in the sunlight where it wasn't encrusted with her kinfolk's blood, shot forwards like an arrow from a bow. "NO!" she shouted, the smiling warrior paying her no heed as she desperately tried to twist out of the way-the razor blade buried itself in her flesh, striking deep into her side, and she felt the tip pierce her lower chest completely, a blaze of pain erupting as the steel tip ripped clear of her back. She screamed, agony beyond that which her mind could withstand washing over her in a tidal wave, everything blurring and fading in and out of sight, everything except her wound fading in and out, slowly going black...Her last sight was of her own hands, covered in her own blood, grasping the blade of her enemy as it extended from her, blood dripping from her lips as she tasted its simple sweetness in her mouth...

"Rrrrnnggh..." growled the figure under the blankets, awareness slowly returning to it, the feel of rough blankets and bedding about her bare flesh, the scent of straw and tarred canvas, leather and oil, the taste of dry mouth, lips and throat, the sound of horses going about their business, no voices or sounds of humans evident. Coughing, another sensation suddenly erupted through her-pain. Strong arms and hands, hers, suddenly gripped the blankets over her with such force that they were torn almost in half as she convulsed, biting back a scream of agony as her chest seemed to catch fire by biting her tongue so hard that she drew blood. She would have doubled over, but her chest felt as though it had had hot knives driven into it from every conceivable direction, and her muscles wrenched as her body tried to instinctively react to such an outpouring of pain only to be overridden by the effects of an injury that she shouldn't even have woken up from receiving, let alone survived, which she apparently had. The shock to her system was incredible, and her vision went blood-red behind closed eyes as the world tilted impossibly, everything blurring and seemingly drawing away from her as though something was trying to tear her from where she was to somewhere else. It faded slightly after several long seconds to a bearable, numbing level, but she had to focus every last part of her considerable strength of will to first of all prevent herself from passing out, then to force down and gain enough control over the pain that she could tell what was going on about her once more. It hurt worse than it had to loose her eye all those years ago, but it slowly dwindled to a level that she could tolerate, and she focused her senses on the world about her once more, only to sense a very familiar, and unwanted, presence. Her single light-grey left eye opened, focused slowly, and, as she'd expected, made out a tall, dark, feral figure sitting in a chair to her right just across from her, by the wall of the tall, dark-black Healers tent. Eyes like ice-blue chips looked back at her, and the same smile that had shown itself during their brief battle, frosty and formal but with a sensual twist, appeared. Xena, Warrior Princess, Destroyer of Nations, Lion of Amphipolis, the Conqueror, and, to some, death and destruction incarnate, just sat there and looked at her for several long moments, then she rose to her feet and sauntered over, her animal grace apparent in her long stride and the easy shifting and settling of her body as she moved, strong muscles easily apparent under her dark-black leathers, bare arms and legs doing little to conceal her powerful frame. She shivered, watching the woman who had wounded her almost finally approach, but concealed it and forced herself to adopt as determined and controlled an appearance as possible, refusing to let the Warlord break her with the one form of resistance that she could put up. Xena's right eyebrow rose, her eyes gleaming with what appeared to be amusement, but instead of replying she stopped by the bed, lifting the torn blanket away from the embarrassed woman's bare body without evident care and using skilled fingers to remove the bandages about her injury before she checked the stitches closing the wound. Satisfied, she bandaged the wound once more then stood back, looking down on the injured woman beneath her. A single light-grey eye stared coolly back at her, the woman's left, her only eye, her right being an empty white orb hidden underneath an eyepatch of black cord and brown fur that covered the eye completely and encircled her head. Her hair was a dark auburn and was long and unruly, the same colour as her wings, although her wings were well-kept and clean, and her smooth face and strong build made her appear almost thirty to the eye. She bore several small long-healed white scars at points on her body, particularly under her eyepatch over her lost eye, but her long, slim body still bore the strong lines and soft curves of youth, although there was no question of her physical development being that of a grown woman. The wings which extended from her back were an unusual addition, though, an Eagles wings fitted to her back and shoulders. They were soft and flexible when touched, just like a real Eagles, and, she knew from seeing the woman use them when she attacked from the sky, fully functional as well. The woman looked fully human apart from her wings, however, so it seemed likely that the screams of the Northmen that she'd tortured for answers about the woman were true, and she was one of what they called the "Valkyrie", come to collect their souls as they died, the warrior women who took their souls to Valhalla, their Warrior Paradise, to await the final battle of Ragnarok. She had to wonder, she couldn't help but think with a silent chuckle, what Ares would make of such a warrior if he knew she had one. "Seen enough?" asked the Valkyrie, her face expressionless, her tone of voice neutral. "There's never enough. Welcome back to the world of the living, by the way, you've been unconscious for three days you know" said Xena, running her eyes over the woman's figure in a way that suggested that she intended to commit the sight to memory. "Thank you, but I like men, Warrior Princess, so you're looking at the wrong person. One thing, though: did you save my life after beating me in a fight?" she asked, softly. "Yes, and I still don't know your name despite that" replied Xena, with a grin as she looked at the Valkyrie, ignoring her words. "Vandria-and there's something that you should know in that case. You might know that Valkyrie all have a strict code of honour as part of the way they live? No? Well, we do, and we have certain traditions regarding situations like this one. More to the point, since you unquestionably defeated me in combat and then saved my life, I am now sworn to protect you with my life and obey your commands until either your or my death, and I cannot be released by anyone of my vows except by either my Lord Odin or the All Mother" replied Vandria, softly, as Xena's eyes opened wide even as she licked her lips...

Eight summers ago...

The two Amazon's looked more closely at the tent of the Warrior Princess in the centre of her armies camp, trying to catch a glimpse of either Xena or one of her lieutenants so that they could get some idea of what was going on. It was difficult from the trees, especially in the darkness of night, so they'd left them and moved closer carefully, working their way from cover to cover, and were now close enough to make out what was being said by the sentries and some of the weary soldiers resting around campfires nearby. There were ten Amazon's, and they'd been sent to discover what was happening in Xena's war with the Centaurs. They were lead by Jiana, an experienced hunter and tracker of close to forty years of age, who had orders from Queen Lasrina to gather as much information as possible and avoid confronting any of Xena's troops, especially Xena herself, and so far, thanks to Jiana's effective leadership, they'd succeeded in their aims. However, two of the Amazon's were young women in their late teens, inexperienced but talented and considered to have great promise, and they hadn't yet quite thrown off the feeling of immortality that being young gave one, believing that they could not possibly die here since they were surely fated to do great deeds and die hero's of the Nation of old age surrounded by mourning Sisters. As well as this, having heard the stories of the Warrior Princess, both of them were secretly hoping to at least catch a glimpse of the warrior woman and were prepared to take what Jiana would unquestionably have considered unnecessary risks to gain such a prize. One of them had cloud-grey eyes, short, curly blond hair and an easy young beauty that had already drawn the eyes of several Sisters even at the young age of eighteen. She was slim and lacked evident muscle, but she was in truth strong and quick, her movements graceful and her body strong. Her companion had long, smooth dark auburn hair, chocolate brown eyes and a long, smooth face. She was more full-bodied than her companion, but had a similar build to her companion, although her blond Sister was known to be the more talented of the two and the more disciplined. Both were seen as likely future recruits for the Royal Guard, but both still had lessons to learn and were on this mission to be taught some. The blond Amazon was known as Ephiny, daughter of Andora, the auburn-haired Amazon was Solari, daughter of Jocasta, and they were old friends and sometime lovers. They were also about to learn some hard lessons that neither would ever forget.

By one of the smaller fires, near the large midnight-black tent of the Warrior Princess, blood-red flag with pitch-black Hawks head in its centre atop it making it obvious to the eye, there were five figures sitting together in a small circle, and occasionally the clatter of bone dice on a wooden plate sounded, accompanied by the occasional sigh or argument. The five soldiers were evidently gambling to pass the time, and one of them, Ephiny couldn't help but notice as she crept closer, right to the edge of the bushes about the camp that shielded it from detection well unless one knew where to look or moved through the trees, was clearly winning from the growing complaints of the four others. Four of the soldiers were men, she noticed, wearing black, crimson-red and dark-brown armour, a combination of leather and chain that gave protection to chest, shoulders, groin and lower legs mainly while the leather was placed to avoid hampering their movements. Each of them bore Xena's hawks-head emblem in bloody red or raven black somewhere on their armour, and each carried a weapon, either a sword or a dagger, even while resting in camp, a sign of the ongoing war between them and the Centaurs. The fifth figure, however, was an oddity in the camp, mainly due to its lack of obvious weapons or armour, and the fact that it was undeniably female, evident despite her long dark-brown cloak, which hung about her loosely. Long, loose auburn hair fell to her waist, wild and only roughly ordered, and a black cord and brown-fur eyepatch covered her right eye, wrapping around her head, her single light-grey eye evident. Boots that looked to be formed of a combination of dark-brown wolfs fur and hard leather were evident on her feet under her cloak, covering her legs to just above the knee, the fur covering the tops of her boots to a palms width. Her face was smooth but not gentle, although undeniably beautiful in a feral style that brought to mind a wild animal that was only just being kept on a loose leash, and her red lips formed an undeniable smirk as Ephiny watched, shouting erupting from the evidently angry men as they lost yet another roll of the dice, the figure being shouted about causing Ephiny's eyebrows to rise. Evidently, the men had lost enough money with the woman warrior that the game had begun to take a decidedly serious turn, and the amounts being bet had begun to rise to account for this, but the losses had continued nonetheless, with the woman continuing to win regularly. Hearing movement nearby, Ephiny tensed, then relaxed as a dark-haired figure in Amazon leathers crawled up next to her, Solari. "Having fun, Eph?" she whispered, glancing at the ongoing game with a muffled chuckle to take the seriousness of the words away somewhat. "You could say that. Certainly, its more fun watching them get annoyed at loosing or winning at dice than simply hacking at Centaurs in some bloody battle that makes me sick to my stomach. What about you?" Ephiny answered, looking at Solari. "Oh, I'm having the time of my life. Actually, I've heard one or two things that are worth a laugh. Wanna hear them?" Solari replied, looking at Ephiny with a wink and not even trying to prevent her hand from absently reaching over and lightly scratching Ephiny's bare back beneath her leathers. Ephiny breathed in sharply, but then grinned and said "Sure", relaxing into the gentle caresses on her skin. After all, she reasoned, surely Solari wouldn't try anything too extreme here, unlike that time in the village two moons ago when she'd stolen Ephiny's leathers while she was bathing and the blond Amazon had had to walk through the village completely naked to get her spare set from her hut until she could chase Solari down and punish her, trying to ignore the numerous appreciative glances and longing, occasionally lustful looks that had left her the colour of a ripe tomato by the time she'd reached her hut. On the other hand, Ephiny couldn't help but think ruefully, this was Solari that she was talking about, and she had had it coming after that time when she'd carefully adjusted the stitching of Solari's leathers so that she'd fallen right out of them right in front of Queen Lasrina, who had just looked the blushing Amazon up and down with a twinkle in her eye, then "accidentally" forgotten to dismiss Solari along with everyone else, leaving the dark-haired Amazon standing guard at the Queen's hut in the nude for a candlemark before she'd "remembered" the naked woman standing in full view just outside the door. Funnily enough, Ephiny had found herself assigned extra needlework classes after that, and Eponin seemed to have taken a personal interest in ensuring that she mastered every combat skill, particularly wrestling, which somehow seemed to lead to Ephiny showing a lot more skin than she had before afterwards despite still having all her leathers on, some holding pin or clasp having "come undone" during the wrestling. She now knew for a fact that Eponin was considerably quicker than a lot of people gave her credit for, however, and that she had extremely skilful hands, which were of great use for more than just wielding weapons or fighting. In fact, she could easily recall, the older Weapons Master had demonstrated a variety of uses for her hands that the younger Amazon would never have thought of otherwise after they'd both gotten drunk one night, although she'd woken up alone with bruises in unmentionable places and nothing but drink-fogged memories of ecstasy to remind her of it. Still, she hadn't minded, even if Eponin had refused to look her in the eye for a week afterwards. "Okay" Solari began, "Well, you see the looker over there by the WP's tent?" she asked, gesturing at the woman who had started to laugh aloud at the increasingly angry men. "Yep, what about her?" replied Ephiny, suspecting that they were about to see some trouble from what was going on at the small fire. "Her names Vandria, and if I told you what some of the men have been saying about her you'd laugh so hard that you'd crack a rib. I thought that men had strange ideas about Amazon's and our customs, but compared to her? Uh-uh, were nice and tame compared to her it seems, although some of the men plan on finding out for themselves if they can catch one or three of us on a raid they've got planned. Nah, what their doing with that dice game is the stupid part. They're trying to win all of her money so that she'll have to bed at least one of them to be able to do anything more than eat or drink, and their placing bets on who'll be the lucky man since she apparently doesn't like women. Problem is, as you've noticed I'll bet, she's hit a winning streak and its the poor bastards who drew the short straws who are loosing their money" Solari said, with a quiet chuckle. Suddenly, there was a roar of fury from one of the seated men, and he leapt up and threw himself at the woman. She threw herself backwards from her seat on a large log, rolled over and came back to her feet even as the man did, raising her hands and arms into a defensive posture and bracing herself. The man snarled as he stood, then he rushed at her with hands outstretched, evidently intending to throttle her if he could. A cool smile on her face, the woman waited until he was within a finger's width of reaching her, then ducked, hammering a punch to his stomach. He staggered, but his armour blunted the force of the blow and he remained upright, not that it mattered. She shot upright behind him, cracking her elbow against the base of his skull, then kicked him in the backside, sending the stunned man to his hands and knees. Recovering slowly, he rose, and a gleam at his waist showed as he drew a knife, although the woman didn't appear concerned. The other men rose and began backing away, and Ephiny could make out that they were telling him not to be stupid, but he wasn't listening. He had blond hair and blue eyes, a handsome face, and was tall and powerfully built. That he knew how to use the dagger was obvious from the way he held it, even as he reached up and wiped away the blood trickling from his mouth, his movements steady and strong. Compared to the woman's sure movements, easy grace and feral looks, however, it was like watching a Weasel try to threaten a Wolf, and neither Ephiny nor Solari had any doubt who would win any fight, even though the woman was evidently unarmed. "Don't be stupid, Andres" came the woman's strong voice, a steady growl like thunder in the distance, "I don't want to kill you". She stepped back, opening her arms and moving away from him. "Don't worry, you won't" he replied, coldly, then he lunged at her chest. She stepped to her right, and countered with a round-arm punch which span Andres from his feet and saw the knife falling from his hand. "Andres, stop this now, I won't ask again" she said, softly, looking him in the eye. He ignored her, heaving himself to his feet and retrieving his knife. "Too late" he replied, spitting out the blood that was flowing down his face from his nose. The scraping noise of a sword being drawn sounded, and one of the men stepped forwards, getting between Andres and Vandria, a dark-haired man with a short beard and deep-set dark brown eyes. "Andres, think you bloody fool. That's twice that you could have been killed now, and your only still here because she gave you a second chance. She'll kill you if you try again and you know it, so drop this before you do something you can't undo" said the man, loudly, as though to make sure that his words penetrated the man's mind. "She took my money, Abraxes, I can't go home to Kelra and the kids with nothing to my name but what I'm standing in, so get out of my way" replied Andres, moving forwards. "That's why your still alive, idiot, or hadn't you guessed?" replied Vandria, sighing, getting the attention of both men, who shot startled glances at her. "Oh, in Odin's name you mortal men are fools. You wonder why I don't "grace" any of you with my "charms"? Well, you've just answered your own question, I don't mate with lower forms of life, if you want my attention and respect you have to earn it. Here, tell the others that I dislike being the subject of bets when you leave" said Vandria, pulling out a full money pouch and tossing it to the startled Andres, who almost dropped it. He started to apologise as he clumsily sheathed his dagger, but she held up a hand to silence him. "Be silent if you wish to keep your tongue, money is nothing to me, you should know that by now. Just go" she said, then she turned and sat down by the fire once more. Andres just stood there for a moment, then turned and quickly walked away. Ephiny and Solari exchanged glances. "Strange woman, but I like her already" remarked Solari, dryly. "Funny you should say that, I had exactly the same thoughts. Pity we don't know whether she's an Amazon or not, she'd make a good one" replied Ephiny, just before her eyes opened so wide that her eyeballs threatened to roll right out of their sockets. A tall, dark figure had just walked out of the command tent, and, Ephiny knew without a moment's thought, she'd have known that the figure had even if she'd had her eyes shut and been fast asleep. Long, raven-black hair fell almost to the figure's waist in a silken wave, covering a strong, broad-shouldered body, two ice-blue eyes gleaming in its face. The figure was undeniably female, strong curves evident even under the black leathers, slim but powerful body long-limbed and seemingly free of all fat in a fashion that suggested that it had been burnt off of her. Even in the dull firelight bronzed skin was evident, and a face of a classical beauty that any Greek sculptor would have been proud to have as a model was obvious as she smiled at Vandria, showing perfect white teeth. She practically dragged attention to her by force of will and refused to let go even just standing there, a dark, dangerous energy running through her that made the hair stand on end even merely on sight. She exuded power and danger like a predator among its prey, only her prey was anything she chose, and there was no other predator to challenge her, an undercurrent of easy sexual power running under it all. Solari nearly swallowed her tongue and Ephiny found that she had trouble breathing on first sight of the legend, or nightmare, as she was known to some, until some self-control reasserted itself. Ephiny couldn't have looked away if she'd wanted to, but considered making the attempt in any case, while Solari just stared. "Wow" she muttered, "Guess that's Xena, huh?"

Vandria looked up as she heard movement, even as her sharp eye and hearing immediately told her who it was and where she was. Looking around, she caught the ice-blue eyes of the approaching figure with her one grey one, and smiled. "Ho, Xena, its about time you put your head outside for some fresh air away from all the planning and those dusty old maps. Come join us, we've got some ale ready and a spare seat just waiting for you" she called, getting an exaggerated sigh and a pair of rolled eyes in return even as a smile made its slow but steady way across the warriors face as she sat in Andres's empty place. "Sure, I could use a break. Just one thing, though, is Andres going to survive the night? I was beginning to wonder for a moment there, but you let him off pretty easily, considering-" said Xena, but Vandria cut her off. "Considering that he came at me with a knife? He's not the first, and he won't be the last. Besides, Xe, don't pretend that you haven't noticed that most of your men think that I'm some kind of deformed freak who needs to be cut down to size one way or another. I'm used to it, believe me, but unless you want to start loosing soldiers I suggest that you impress on them that Vipers in the bed and the like and bets on who's going to be the man to "tame" me are not appreciated. Even though, excepting the assassination attempts, they do exactly the same with you" said Vandria, to a muffled snort of laughter from one of the soldiers nearby, while several other's took the precaution of edging well out of arms reach. Xena's eyes gleamed as she grinned, "I'd noticed, thanks, and I'll have to think about how to persuade them to stop that, just crucifying anyone I catch doing it probably won't work, even though they all know that they can't beat you in a fight. By the way, have you noticed how quiet it isn't on the camp boundary?" she asked, lowering her voice to avoid being overheard. "I'm not human, Xena, these wings aren't just for show, remember? But I wouldn't have missed it if I was asleep, let alone if I happened to occasionally glance at the edges of the camp and see shadows where there shouldn't be any, branches moving in ways that nature had nothing to do with due to the small problem of a total lack of wind and the like. Do you want to give the guards a little more time to notice that things are amiss, or deal with this now?" Vandria replied, looking about with her single eye, carefully avoiding moving her head. "Now, the guards need a shake up in any case after not noticing that ten people have been scouting out the camps perimeter without attracting their attention. You go to the usual place, get in front of any runners and persuade them to stop, but try to avoid killing anyone if you can, I'd like some prisoners. Pass the word, we'll go when I raise my right fist and clench it, clear?" Xena asked. "Clear. See you in a candlemark or three" replied Vandria, with a nod, even as Xena stood up once more and left to pass out quiet orders…

Jiana, prime huntress of the Amazon Nation, veteran warrior and, she often grumbled, soon to be Elder, was not happy. She'd been sent on a mission that she'd volunteered to lead with nine other Amazon's, all good trackers, hunters and warriors, and they were all reliable and followed her orders when given, but she still hadn't been happy about the groups make-up when she'd accepted its leadership. The primary reason for this was just who she'd been sent to spy on, Xena, the Warrior Princess herself, a woman whom the ageing huntress had a great deal of respect for, for good reason, and not a little amount of fear of. The secondary reason was that she had along two skilled young women, Ephiny and Solari, very promising young Amazon's who had both just gained their feathers and were expected to join the elite Queen's Guard in due course, but who were also hot headed and had a tendency to take risks that more experienced Amazon's wouldn't even consider. Just as they were doing now, she'd noticed, with a frown, seeing both of them, right next to one another, closer than she'd told them to even consider going to the camp. Sitting back in the trees against the trunk of the large tree that she was resting on the broad branch of, the raven-haired Amazon huntress rolled her mist-grey eyes and sighed, trying to recall just what it was about youth that had a tendency to get you killed. Oh, yes, you thought you were immortal, that was it, she thought, shifting slightly to keep her body loose and limber as she sat almost still to avoid attracting any attention. Well, they'd learn, just as she had, watching people you'd grown up with die with their bloody guts in their hands screaming out their agony with their last breaths or bleeding their last in horrifying silence had a tendency of doing that to you. Those things, and any number of other occurrences that she'd seen in her long life, a number of which she didn't even want to remember. Focusing her sharp eyes on the tall, dark figure that had to be the Warrior Princess herself as she exited the Command Tent, Jiana raised an eyebrow at the sight. Tall, at least six feet, broad, strongly built and with muscles that rippled as she moved under golden-tanned skin. Raven hair flowed down her back, long and wild, and she couldn't fail to catch a glimpse of the Warlords ice-blue eyes as she turned slightly before walking over to join a group of her followers where a fight had just nearly broken out. An easy, animal grace was evident from the way she moved, and the strength and power in her movements were strong and assured. She had a feral style to her movements and looks as well, almost as though she had a touch of the beast herself deep inside, and a strange tingle ran up and down Jiana's spine as she watched the Warlord, one that told her, normally, if she was being observed or not, or if the hunter had abruptly become the hunted in the hunt. It was impossible of course, ridiculous, no animal, let alone human, could have sensed that she was hidden in the tree, no matter how skilful they or it were at telling such things-surely? A tall figure, shorter than the Warrior Princess and clearly less physically strong and sturdy even under her full-body forest-brown cloak, although the cast-back hood allowed Jiana to be certain that the figure was another woman, started talking to the Warrior, although the darkness was too great for any attempt at lip-reading from such a distance to be successful. After a few moments, though, after a brief conversation, Xena rose from where she'd sat by the fire and began walking from fire to fire, greeting each of her men individually and evidently making casual comments that caused any number of reactions among the men, from fearful to ecstatic. Shaking her head, all Jiana could do was wonder by just what quirk of Fate Xena had ever failed to become an Amazon, evidently living so close to their Nation, too-her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. Her eyes focused sharply on the first fire, and her heart almost skipped a beat as she realised who was missing, which she double-checked fast with a quick look about the camp. The woman who had been sitting at the first fire Xena had been sitting at had managed to disappear without drawing her attention, an almost impossible trick by itself, and, she rapidly realised, less men were sitting at the fires than had been a moment ago, more than were even possibly needed unless the Guards were not just being replaced but doubled in strength…Sweet Artemis thought Jiana, even as she raised and cupped her hands to make the signal to retreat, realising what had to be happening, when she was suddenly distracted by a large bird flying overhead and landing on a tree branch nearby-a very large bird…

Cold water, about a bucketful, with a strange tang to the taste as it dripped into her mouth, hit Ephiny full in the face, and her forest-brown eyes flared in shock as she was suddenly snapped awake, freed from an unpleasant dream where she was fighting hundreds of soldiers dressed in the dark, crimson red and raven black of Xena's forces. Where, no matter how many she killed, ten more were waiting to take every one's place, and they were all smiling, grinning, as they slowly cut her to bloody shreds even as she screamed, and screamed, and screamed-a boot cracked into her side and she yelped. Angry, she lurched to her elbows and looked around to see which of her Sisters had dared wake her up in such a fashion-and met ice-blue eyes, cold and crystal clear, that reflected her own cloud-grey one's like finely polished diamonds. Those mesmerising orbs, deep as the ocean and as cold as death, were surrounded by raven-black hair that fell loosely about a beautiful young woman's face, a face that any sculptor would be proud to have as his model-her heart stopped for a long moment as her memory caught up with her mind, and all the blood drained from her face. There was only one woman who looked like that that she knew, who could even possibly begin to have such eyes and such presence, and that was indeed the woman whose presence she was in-Xena, Warrior Princess, Lion of Amphipolis… Her heart suddenly started beating again, at about four times the speed that it usually did, and she found that she'd lost all command and grasp of either the Greek or Amazonian tongues. Artemis preserve me… was the only thought that even began to run through her suddenly blank mind. The Warrior Princess was dressed in full armour, black breastplate with bronze swirls, scale-like shoulder and leg armour of a raven black, although the shoulder armour was also coloured a deep, dark purple on the outside, skirt of raven steel and leather, raven-black leather and metal bracers on her arms covered with swirls of bronze. Hard, black leather boots covered her feet, protected by her armour, and she wore raven-black leathers under her armour, bronze-decorated raven-black steel and leather gauntlets covering her hands. From her shoulders a pitch-black cloak hung, which would have fallen to her feet if she was standing up Ephiny could tell, with a crimson red inner lining that made it appear as though blood covered her armour and flesh. A sword sheath hung over her back, rising above her left shoulder, but the razor-sharp broadsword was missing from it, the sword being driven into the ground next to her throne. She was playing with a dagger that looked sharp enough to cut bone with that she'd drawn from a sheath at her right hip, flipping it over and around in her fingers in a dazzling display of skill that caused Ephiny's jaw to drop, and, at her left hip, an empty disk of dark metal with symbols that meant nothing to the young Amazon hung from her belt clips. To say that she cut an imposing picture atop her midnight-black throne was an understatement, particularly against the background of a night lit only by the fires and torches of her army, who all stood by in full armour and with weapons sheathed, looking every inch the most deadly, dangerous and disciplined army that Greece had ever seen, which was exactly what they were under the Warrior Princess, in solid ranks behind her. If Ares, God of War, himself had appeared next to Xena, Warrior Princess, she wouldn't have known where to look, and wouldn't have dared make a choice. Both were God's of War, shown as clearly as could be in the sight before her, and, right now, she felt as though either could strike her dead with the slightest gaze. To Xena's right stood her second in command, Borias, a tall, dark-haired man in his late twenties, handsome and with a strong, muscular build and hands that spoke of many years of living by his blade and his wits. He was wearing the same armour as the rest of the army, but with one important difference, aside from the rank markings on his armour that signified his position. About his neck hung a silver necklace, and, at the end of it, a raven-black Hawk hung, Xena's personal symbol, and one that only her favoured were ever permitted to wear, on pain of death. To her left stood the woman that Ephiny had seen earlier, wearing dark-brown leathers that covered her torso, with short sleeves that just covered her shoulders and a leather and raven-black steel skirt that protected her upper legs. Dark-brown boots rose to just above her knees, dark-brown fur surrounding their tops, and she wore bracers on her forearms of the same design as Xena's, the Hawk symbol that showed her allegiance to Xena being a symbol of a Hawk drawn onto her leathers in raven black over her upper chest. However, she'd expected all of that, it was something else entirely that caused her eyebrows to practically disappear into her hairline. Behind the woman, although folded up against her back, a pair of wings, feathers coloured the same colour as her auburn hair, were clearly visible. "You know, Amazon, I was beginning to think that you'd never wake up, but I am glad that you decided to finally join us" Xena said, voice cool and calm, never stopping playing with her dagger. Ephiny nearly jumped off of the floor in fright, but managed to control herself, even managing to shut her mouth and get her breathing back to some form of normalcy, although her face remained pale and her heart continued trying to break her ribs so that it could break out of her chest and run away, which was exactly what she felt like doing, although she knew very well that she'd never, ever make it to her feet if she tried that. Instead, faint-heartedly, with a trembling that it took every last piece of self-control to conceal, although Xena and Vandria's sharp eyes didn't miss the revealing, slightly jerky movements, she rose to a sitting position slowly, then to her knees, not daring to rise any further, or to meet Xena's cold, dangerous eyes. Xena studied the young Amazon before her with interest, Ephiny, although she didn't know it, actually being the first Amazon that Xena had met for long enough to have a good look at her and her garb. Xena's eyes traced up from the young Amazon's long, slim legs to her slim hips, waist and ribs, full breasts concealed under dark leathers, long, slim arms, like her legs, being firmly muscled, if a little thin, but that was from youth, she was sure. The Amazon had short, blond, curly hair and cloud-grey eyes, and she was a beauty, easy on the eyes and stirring to the libido, even on first real sight. Despite the Amazon's failure to meet her eyes, Xena was more impressed than she had any intention of letting on with the young Amazon, particularly because of her youth. She and her dark-haired friend, who'd taken an arrow in the meat of her leg and was currently unconscious and being tended to by the Healer, had been surrounded by twenty men after nearly escaping when the attack on the Amazon's had been launched, but they'd gone down fighting, and not easily. The dark-haired woman had killed one and possibly crippled another soldier, the Healer wasn't sure if he'd ever use the injured leg properly again, but the blond Amazon had killed three and attacked fifteen angry, armed men with her bare hands after loosing her sword in the guts of her last kill, having to be beaten unconscious and hog-tied before she could be brought into camp. One other Amazon had been taken alive, but had been shot through a lung with an arrow and was unlikely to live, while two had evaded all attempts at capture and disappeared into the wilderness, despite the loss of their leader, who Vandria had killed first of all. Five dead and a sixth likely to join them out of ten wasn't bad, however, and the capture of two alive made up for the escaped pair since she'd ordered some taken alive. Now, if only she could persuade the young Amazon to talk without having to do anything permanent to her, and see that fire in her eyes once more, she'd consider the skirmish a complete success-after all, the whole idea had been to send a message to whoever the watchers were that they couldn't sneak up unseen on her army, and they'd more than made that point. "What's your name, Amazon?" she asked, softly, willing the blond to look her in the eyes. Slowly, the Amazon did indeed look up, and cloud-grey eyes met ice-blue, filled with fear but not giving into it, although the woman was incapable of hiding the fact from Xena's gaze. "What will you do to me if I don't tell you?" she asked, softly. Xena raised an eyebrow, and suddenly she wasn't playing with the dagger any longer, the blade was instead held between two fingers, seemingly held for a throw… "Well", Xena replied, with a grin that chilled Ephiny to the bone, "We could start by working to the theory that I've been wanting to try out, that a human only really needs one of everything to live. You know, one eye, one hand, one foot, one arm even, need I go on…?"

Ephiny, who had been searched to the skin and under it while she was unconscious, knew that she didn't stand a chance of taking on the Warrior Princess with her bare hands and winning, but, with the warriors back to her as she pulled off her cloak and hung it on a stand, she was tempted to try-for a second, until she recalled the chilling ice-blue gaze of the woman, and every single exquisite ounce of agony promised in that bright gaze should its owner not receive what she wanted. Just thinking about it nearly made her shudder in fear, but she surpressed it with an effort of will, which was more difficult than it should have been in no small part thanks to the dark, dangerous presence of the raven-haired warrior standing barely a body length away from her. The warriors simple presence made every last one of her nerves jangle in alarm, a dark, feral presence that could reach her in less than a second in a single bound and probably wouldn't think twice about ripping her throat out with her teeth if she thought it necessary. A dark, luxurious energy flowed out of the warrior and into everything around her even as she just stood there, doing nothing more than slowly removing her armour and placing it on a stand with her cloak, and it made Ephiny feel as though she was on a high mountain in the middle of a thunderstorm. It made her hair and body hairs stand on end, it made every sense seem heightened, it made her feel as though she could scale Olympus and challenge the God's, it made her want to see fresh, crimson blood spraying as her sword clove into flesh and bone-and it made her wish either one of her Sisters or any willing Greek woman or man was near, and wanted an extremely sexy sexually charged-up Amazon all over them like them like a rabbit in heat. She could feel her leathers becoming uncomfortable even as she merely stood still, her body straining at the seams of the suddenly too-tight leather, and she was just as certain that it wasn't all lust. There was a healthy mixture of fear in there that was of what she knew the warrior was capable of doing to her, but, somehow, it wasn't having the effect on her that it usually did in the warriors presence. She was, it had to be said, getting decidedly worried about just what she was doing in the Warrior Princess's personal tent, and was getting more so by the minute. Half disbelieving, she watched as Xena pulled off her weapons and hung them about the same frame as her heavier armour, even her knife, then, dressed only in raven-black leathers, she turned to face the watching Ephiny once more, a smile on her full lips. "First thing that you should know about me, Ephiny, is the one likely to keep you alive. Rule One: when I give an order, obey it, unless you are either physically incapable of it or there is no way for you to understand what I'm saying, say, in the middle of a battle and your surrounded, fighting for your life. Rule Two: don't argue with me unless you have my permission, I get irritated very easily, and that is a bad thing. Rule Three: always follow rules one and two, or you have my personal guarantee that no-one you know will ever see you alive, in one piece, again. Do you think that you can follow those, Amazon?" Xena asked, stepping forwards and lifting a hand up to touch the blond Amazon's cheek. She flinched, but didn't draw away, causing Xena's smile to grow. "Good, you learn quickly. Now, try not to disappoint me and I think that we'll get along fine" Xena continued, turning her hand so that her fingers could trace along the Amazon's jaw. Ephiny's jaw tightened, her muscles tensing, but she still managed to restrain herself somehow. "Good, keep it up" said Xena, softly-Ephiny's hand closed on thin air as she tried to grab Xena's wrist, and she snarled in anger before stepping back away from Xena. "I'm not one of your soldiers, Xena!" she ground out from between clenched teeth. Xena just looked at her, and sighed. "Ephiny, as you were" she said, in a bored tone, as though she simply expected to be obeyed. "No Artemis damned way-" the blond Amazon began to reply, but she was suddenly cut off in a flicker of motion from the Warrior Princess. A fist crashed into Ephiny's stomach with such force that the uppercut almost took her from her feet, doubling her over around the blow, and an elbow reversed from the same blow followed through into a cracking thump against her jaw. Stars fluttered in front of her eyes momentarily, everything going dark for a second, and she tasted blood in her mouth as she fell to her knees, arms wrapped around her stomach, trying to remember how to breathe. She choked, coughed, and spat out something which was blocking her throat-her own blood, she realised, as her sight cleared enough that she could see the crimson stain on the ground in front of her. She could barely squeak in pain, however, as strong fingers suddenly grabbed her hair and wrenched her head backwards, and she momentarily stopped breathing as her cloud-grey eyes locked with ice-blue ones looking down at her from above. "Ephiny" said Xena, without the slightest change in her calm expression, although her smile had disappeared, "This can either be hard and unpleasant, violent, painful, you know the way, or it can be what I have in mind, a little pain and a lot of pleasure. You are the only one who can choose, so consider this now" Xena continued, speaking as normally as she would if she were talking to any soldier or camp follower of hers. "-Kafk-I'll take, a lot of, pleasure, if I-hakt-have the option, Warrior Princess, and little pain, thanks" Ephiny replied, trying to breathe and not succeeding very well as her head and neck were twisted by the warriors strong hand. "Good. Now, stand up and don't move unless I tell you to" Xena said, releasing Ephiny's hair and taking a step backwards. Slowly, Ephiny rose to her feet, one hand still on her painful gut, the other by her side after she wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth, trying not to show any physical resistance to the warrior. To her surprise, all that the warrior proceeded to do was run her gaze up and down her leather-clad body and smile. "Tell me, have you been with anyone before?" Xena asked, the look in her eyes making it clear what she was talking about. Ephiny's heart sank, but she didn't let it show on her face. Was she to be used and cast aside by the warrior just like so many others had been? Was she to simply be a night's entertainment for the Warlord because of the fact that she'd been the only Amazon unlucky enough to be captured in good enough health, bruises and all? "Yes" she replied, quietly, wondering whether she'd even survive the night. "Good" replied Xena, stepping up close so that she was face to face with the younger woman. She let a grin show on her face, scaring Ephiny half to death, and waved a finger in the young Amazon's face. "Oh, and don't be silly, your not a "conquest", you're my way of finding out if the Amazon's deserve their reputation. But don't worry, I won't do anything permanent-ha, you might even enjoy it if you let yourself. Now, lie down on the bed on your chest" Xena said, indicating the crimson-sheeted bed just big enough for two in the corner. Swallowing, Ephiny did so, and Xena sat down beside her, proceeding to fiddle with and rapidly work out how the Amazon leathers were fastened together. Loosing merely the upper part of her clothing was worrying to her, especially considering that it left her bare back in reach of the warriors hands, but then she felt firm fingers pressing into the muscles of her upper back, tensed-and began to feel her muscles relax, to her astonishment, as Xena's skilled, strong fingers pressed into them in all the right ways. "Just relax" Xena murmured, working her way down the Amazon's back, loosening tight, tense muscles one by one until she felt Ephiny's upper back relax completely under her fingers, the blond relaxing despite herself, then she worked lower. Ephiny barely noticed the loss of her skirt and boots, although she couldn't fail to notice when Xena's fingers moved over her buttocks, the soles of her feet, then back up the other side over her soft stomach and round breasts, finishing at her throat and leaving her barely awake. She also couldn't fail to notice when Xena removed her own leathers and shift, hanging the dark leathers on another rack and putting the shift to one side. The warrior was the perfect combination of warrior and woman, she couldn't help but think in a blissful haze, long-limbed and slim-bodied, with muscles outlined over her entire body along with the occasional small white scar, bronzed skin a perfect counterpoint for her ice-blue eyes and long, lush raven-black hair. The soft yet firm curves that were revealed so resembled her curving armour when worn it was almost as though the warrior was a living, breathing extension of her battle gear. She got the chance to find out just how silky the warriors hair really was when it fell over her as the warrior lay atop her, and what her full lips tasted like, and, even as the warrior whispered soft compliments into her ear about her beauty and the fine-toned curves that she possessed, she couldn't stop herself from saying three things. She spoke under her breath, not realising that the warrior caught the words thanks to her fine hearing, and then forgot about anything but the fine, almost animalistic warm body atop and about hers, not seeing the shadowed expression that crossed Xena's face at the words. "Warrior Princess…heir to the Throne" she whispered, softly, then, even as Xena claimed her, she whispered one last word. "Chosen…"

Six summers ago…

The Bacchae came at her with a screech of fury that had no place coming from the mouth of anything human, a high-pitched, keening wail that was more reminiscent of a bats screeches than any humans cries. It had once been a beautiful woman, long, raven-black, lustrous silken hair falling to below her waist, grey eyes like the clouds and a long pitch-black tunic that concealed little revealed a healthily curving, slender form, but now the golden eyes and yellow and black rings about those eyes told their own story. They weren't helped, it had to be said, by the long pitch-black talons extending from their fingertips, since, despite their quickness and ability to fly, not to mention fast-healing and immortality, they could be held off due to sheer reach by anyone with a sword who knew how to use it for a few seconds at least. Vandria the Valkyrie, adopted daughter of Odin the All-Father and his wife, Frigga the All-Mother, Lord and Lady of Asgard, however, had been born and bred to fight, and, after just over four hundred years with a blade in any number of battles and fights, knew better than most mortals ever would how to fight, tooth and nail, and how to win, never to surrender. She'd fought worse than Bacchae on easy days in the eternal battles that Asgard and Valhalla were all about, and, as the Bacchae had rapidly discovered, she enjoyed any real challenge that the world could throw at her, fear simply not being a part of who she was and what she did. However, a born warrior learnt two things early on, and those were that no-one cannot be defeated, and that there is no battle that is lost before it has begun. Both lessons were coming into play now as Xena's army was decimated at the hands of the Bacchae, however, and so was the third rule that all Asgardian's learned early on in life. It is no victory to destroy an Empire to win a battle, and it is not a defeat to retreat before an enemy that has defeated you in battle to live to fight again. Xena's army, and Xena herself, were all going to die here, Vandria knew, unless they could retreat with the protection of a rearguard and escape from the Bacchae Woods. She cursed, screamed her war cry as the Bacchae came at her in a blur, a sound part roar of fury, part call to battle, but all Battle Scream, and attacked like a berserker. The Bacchae didn't honestly know what to make of its unusual opponent, with her strange wings and scent, but warm blood flowed in her veins and the battle lust was upon her, so she stopped considering it and attacked. The Bacchae flew at her, but Vandria ducked and rammed her silver longsword into its side, wrenching it right along the Bacchae's side from armpit to hip and ripping it out in a spray of light-coloured forest-green blood, red flesh and white bone. The Bacchae screamed, hit the floor and rolled to its feet, but Vandria span around even faster and her blade opened it up from hip to hip, its insides spilling out in a bloody tangle of red meat and slimy green blood. The Bacchae slipped on its own intestines with a screech of pain and fell flat on its face with a crack of bone against the forest floor, but it didn't have time to recover before Vandria's bloody sword rose and fell and the creature fell silent as its head was separated from its neck with a meaty "thunk" of steel in flesh. The body went berserk at the loss of the head, but a second deep blow severed the spine and left it immobile until the injury had healed. Not even decapitation could kill an immortal, Vandria well knew, but it certainly didn't do it any good, and it was out of the fight for the moment. She looked around her quickly, and saw black and red armoured soldiers falling left and right about her as over fifty Bacchae charged them all to add to the twenty already present, against a force of a hundred soldiers with only a few Dryad bone weapons among them who were outnumbered and outclassed. The men would just die if the Bacchae killed them with their bite, she was sure, but mortal women would rise again as Bacchae themselves if bitten, which was no minor cause for concern considering that there were several present among the force she was with and she might not be able to tell the difference in the melee, just like everyone else. She didn't know what effect a bite would have on her, a near-immortal who could still die of mortal wounds that would kill a mortal, and she didn't want to, but she wouldn't retreat without an order from Xena, which meant that she might find out in short order. She attacked a nearby Bacchae, headbutting it to drive it back then severing both its arms at the elbows with a single double-handed sweep of her sword, getting its blood all over her in the process. It tried to bite her, but she slammed a knee into its groin and followed through with an uppercut with her sword-hand still clutching her sword hilt. Bone snapped, the creature was hurled from its feet, and she gutted it from groin to gullet with a deep, fast slash before it could shake off the stunning impact. It screamed, but she shut it up by cutting its head in two with a sickening crack and ripping her blade loose once more through brute strength and a brutal wrench, tearing out blood and brains in the process. Half the men were down, and about ten Bacchae, not counting the two she'd dealt with, and they were being driven backwards fast, unable to hold a line of any kind. She swore, something she did rarely, a guttural oath that warriors in Asgard were fond of and most would have been shocked to hear that one of their warrior maidens even knew, and looked about once more, before her eyes flashed back to the Bacchae. She could still recall the conversation she'd had with Xena earlier about how bad an idea this was, and now she'd been proved right, but might not live to see it admitted by the Warrior Princess, a thought that failed to bring her any pleasure. It came back to her briefly as she thought about it…

…"I don't care WHAT information you have on the Bacchae Woods, Xena, or whether we have some Dryad bone weapons! I don't care who told you, or why, unless it was either a God or something close to one that intends to aid us in this idiocy! This is insanity and you know it, Warrior Princess, we cannot defeat the Bacchae in open battle, let alone in the woods, yet you really expect us to march in there, sneak past Bacchae whose hunting grounds these are and steal Bacchus's treasures from under his nose?! I might as well challenge Loki to a duel of wits, I would have as much chance of defeating him at that as we do at winning here!" she exploded, looking into the icy-calm ice-blue eyes of the Warrior Princess as she finished strapping on her armour. Xena merely looked at her for a long moment, then rose, gathered up her sword and sheath and clipped them to her back, adding her Chakram and daggers to her belt. "Am I to take it that that is your opinion as a warrior?" she'd asked, calmly, as though she was discussing the weather with one of her Captains. Vandria had contemplated screaming so loudly that the entire camp came running to see who had died so that she could try her argument with them, but she hadn't bothered, knowing that it wouldn't have worked. Xena's men would have followed her into Tartarus and fought Hades for her because they were convinced that she could defeat any opponent or enemy given time, and Vandria had developed suspicions of her own that they were right, although not in the fashion that they thought, so if she wouldn't listen there was no chance that they would. There was only one thing too do, really, when faced with the solid wall that the Warrior Princess always presented just before a battle, one thing ever. She'd smiled, giving in gracefully since she'd known that she wasn't going to win, even though she knew that it was almost certainly suicide. "Yes. Where do you want me?" she'd said, with a sigh…

…Two Bacchae came at her at once, evidently having realised that she was the most formidable threat. One slashed at her with claws while the other tried to get behind her, but she didn't give them time to complete the manoeuvre. She leapt into the Bacchae's slashing claw attack, rammed her sword right through its stomach and wrenched it up through its chest until it reached the throat. The Bacchae screamed in agony and collapsed, writhing helplessly in pain. The second Bacchae tried to jump her, but she kicked it in the chest, staggering it with more than human strength, followed through with a bone-breaking roundhouse punch that almost span it from its feet and broke its jaw in the process, then grabbed it by the shoulders and, bracing her knee against its back, wrenched with all her considerable strength. The Bacchae was snapped almost at a right angle to its lower body, and its scream would have broken glass as its back broke audibly, but it was quickly silenced as she broke its neck with both hands before throwing it from her. Retrieving her sword, she used it to hack the head from the other injured Bacchae with two bloody swipes as it writhed in agony on the ground, then looked about her once more. Only thirty men were left standing, opposing fifty Bacchae or so including the ones she'd incapacitated, and the remaining Bacchae were quickly encircling the surviving men. There was only one thing left to do, she knew, distasteful as it was to her, if any of them were to survive. "RETREAT! If you want to live, RUN, get to Xena and whatever's left of the army, then get out of the forest! GO!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, then she spread her wings and took to the air to follow her own advice. Laughter, screams of agony, shouts and crashes of people running in all directions through the woods as they were pursued by others erupted all about as the surviving soldiers followed her shouted commands and scattered to throw the Bacchae off of their trails as best they could while trying to head back to the main body of the army and Xena herself. Bacchae began to rise from the forest behind her as some of them saw her escaping, and she threw everything that she had into powering up and away from the confines of the forest and the approaching Bacchae. If she could get to clear air, free of the massive, entangling trees, her manoeuvrability and speed in the air would count for something against the Bacche's close-quarter advantage, not to mention the fact that, while they were quick and fast in the air, she was actually more manoeuvrable and could likely outdistance them in a long-running pursuit, but first she had to get out of the forest alive. The Bacchae were faster than her over short distances, like bats were, and the closed confines favoured their human bodies as opposed to her winged form, so if she couldn't get free of the confines holding her fast then she was, unquestionably, in serious trouble. She flew around branches and tree-trunks, found every last small gap between thick and heavy branches and broken wood, and shot clear into the sky just quickly enough for a reaching Bacchae to fail to catch her left foot as she did so. It came right out after her, and got a boot in the face for its efforts which span it right around in the air, sending it crashing into a tree, where it lost control of its ability to fly and crashed back down through the thick trees and branches with a screech of pain. Others were right behind it though, too many, so she spun and raced towards where the heaviest fighting was going on, knowing that that was where she'd find Xena without question. If there was one thing the Warrior Princess did better than conqueror her foes it was fight, and there was no question in this situation that she was going to get the fight of her life. The only real question was if even she could fight her way out of the nightmare that they were in alive.

Xena hurled her Chakram, watching in satisfaction as it tore out the throats of two Bacchae, ricocheted off a tree trunk and came back to her hand, but then snarled in anger as even more of her men were dragged down and torn to pieces by the bloodthirsty Bacchae that they were facing. The Bacchae were outnumbered by the soldiers attacking them by four to one or better, but they were using hit and run tactics which, combined with their decidedly supernatural abilities of flight, incredible reflexes and the ability to heal almost any non-fatal wound inflicted even by a Dryad-bone blade, were more than evening out the course of the battle. Almost a thousand soldiers, a quarter of her entire force, had advanced into the woods under her command, expecting to flush out the Bacchae, corner them and kill them in the caves that held Bacchus's treasures, then to take the treasures that were hidden by the God of Wine somewhere in the forest and caves. The plan had been to do this and succeed through sheer weight of numbers, since she had reliable information that there were only around three hundred Bacchae in the woods, as well as Bacchus himself, and she'd managed to get hold of Dryad Bone weapons for her soldiers, which should have evened the odds. After all, Ares himself had assured her that the Bacchae would be no match for her army, and it was a well-know fact that Bacchae almost never left their masters side, so the likelihood that he knew that she was coming for him and his had seemed remote. However, she should have trusted her instincts on this one as it turned out, and Vandria, who had told her in no uncertain terms that the idea was suicide, and it was beginning to look less and less likely that she was going to get out of the woods with even half of the troops that she'd gone in with-if she herself got out, she couldn't help but think. If she did get out of this alive, she was going to have a very long talk with Ares about giving her such bad intelligence, no matter the situation or his reasons, she had decided long since. A Bacchae came at her, bursting through the circle of men around her, blood, not its, pouring from its open mouth, its claws coloured crimson, its thin, light black dress torn to shreds. She rolled aside, came smoothly back to her feet and rammed her Dryad bone lined sword into the creature's neck as it came at her again. It stopped with a squeak, green blood pouring from the wound as her blade ripped through its flesh and muscle to embed itself in its backbone, then it collapsed with a gurgle. A few seconds later, it erupted in a brief but violent flash of heat and light and died as it disintegrated, its body temperature rising to 10,000 degrees centigrade reacting to the poison of the Dryad Bone being embedded in it. Xena didn't stop to watch, turning and shouting orders at her men to fall back and regroup, then she turned around slowly, watching and sensing every possible angle of attack, sword in right hand Chakram in left. She'd started with 990 men, just short of the nominal 1000 after a skirmish on the way to the woods, but now she could see that only seven hundred or so were still standing, and she doubted more than twenty Bacchae had been cut down, some of those likely not being dead. Screams and shouts were erupting all the time all around her, death-cries, howls of pain, roars of fury or, rare, shouts of victory in some small battle. She couldn't tell for the life of her, which was disturbing her more than a little, which way the battle was going, she only knew that the losses that were being sustained could not be sustained were they to win this battle, even with the rest of her army outside of the wood, three thousand men. Why? A simple reason, because, even with such overwhelming strength of numbers, she would go to Tartarus before she would destroy her entire army just to get even the treasures of a Demi-God, and that was what it would take, she knew. Her record and reputation could stand up for themselves, all she was interested in now was extracting as many of her surviving soldiers alive and able to fight another day from this nightmare battle as possible. A sudden fresh set of screams erupted from her left and she spun on her heel, to see a group of twenty Bacchae tearing their way towards her from that direction. "TIMONIS! Stop those Bacchae over there from getting any closer to us before they split us in half!" she shouted, calling to one of her nearby Lieutenants, a young, mousy-brown haired and grey eyed man who was better than most with a sword and knew his way around organisation better than most. He saluted her with his sword, shouted for his fifty men to follow him and led the charge against the Bacchae from the front, expertly gutting the nearest Bacchae as he did so-a fresh shout, screams, and something burned over her right cheek, just missing her throat as she threw herself to the ground. She jumped to her feet, only to see just as many Bacchae coming at her-HER-from the opposite direction. They were after her, specifically, likely on Bacchus's specific orders, and, if the bite of a Bacchae did what it was supposed to and she was bitten by one, she could easily find herself leading Bacchus's forces against her own army of her own free will and loving every second of it, something she would fall on her sword before allowing to happen-if she got the choice…She heard them coming, but there was nowhere to go, and all she could do was turn to face the four Bacchae that dropped out of the sky all around her all at once. "Yiyiyyiyiyiyiyi!" she shouted, screaming out her battle-cry as she took the initiative and attacked the nearest Bacchae, an auburn-haired woman who looked physically similar to Vandria in build. The Bacchae ducked and stepped backwards, but got the Chakram across the eyes as it dodged the cut across the chest from the sword, leaving it blinded, blood pouring from its ruined face as it screeched in pain and tripped over its own feet, collapsing to the floor. The second one got a boot to the belly and a kick to the jaw as it doubled over, sending it crashing from its feet unconscious with a broken jaw as blood exploded into the air, but the third Bacchae grabbed her in a bear hug from behind while the fourth grabbed at her legs to immobilise her. She couldn't free her arms, and had everything she could do to avoid getting bitten from behind by the Bacchae holding her, so tried to kick the Bacchae in front of her since she couldn't get her weapons free, but the creature just caught her right leg, smirked, and twisted sharply. The bone snapped with an audible crack, and a red blur of pain shot into her brain from the injury, but she gritted her teeth and fought it down, only to find the Bacchae in her face. "Welcome to the fold, Xena" said the honey-blond Bacchae, golden eyes locking with ice-blue as the Bacchae went for her throat, and Xena found herself incapable of stopping her-a dark figure appeared from nowhere, dropping from the air like a boulder from a catapult with almost as much force. A pair of feet in leather boots cracked into the Bacchae's back with a sound like splintering timber, spine, ribs and neck all snapping in several places in a way that Xena felt rather than heard, and blood exploded from the Bacchae's ears, nose and mouth before it collapsed bonelessly into a sodden mess. The second Bacchae barely even had time to register what had happened before an arm flashed around, a glint of steel in the hand, and a knife slammed into the centre of its face, throwing it backwards as though it had been hit by a battering ram. Vandria grinned at the startled Xena, covered head to foot in light, luminous, forest-green Bacchae blood, bloody sword in hand, covered in nicks and scratches from which her own rich, crimson red blood sometimes seeped, and span her sword over and around her hand, flicking off the blood dripping down the blade. "Believe me now, Xena?" she said, turning to face one of the approaching groups of Bacchae as Xena re-settled her armour with a quick bounce before turning to face them as well. "Unfortunately, to say the least, yes. Any helpful suggestions would be appreciated, by the way. Oh, and thanks for saving my life" Xena replied, forcing down the pain as she settled as little weight as possible on her broken leg. Vandria's Hawk-sharp eyes didn't miss the signs, though, and she looked at Xena carefully. "Your hurt, aren't you, Xena" she said, quietly. Xena glared at her, but her leg hurt too much to argue. "Yes, my legs broken. What of it?" she snapped, watching the Bacchae advance being stopped by more soldiers attacking them as the fighting retreat continued. "What of it? Even for you, Xena-BY THE ALL FATHER!" exploded Vandria, her single eye flaring open so much that Xena half expected it to roll right out of its socket. However, Xena knew well that the Valkyrie was not given to sudden, hysterical outbursts, so she quickly twisted to see what the woman had seen-her jaw dropped, her heart lurched. Standing at the edge of the clearing they were rapidly being driven from, a tall, dark-red skinned figure had appeared. Massive and heavily muscled, horned and with talons on the ends of his fingers, a dark-brown robe about his massive, thick-set frame, tiny blood-red eyes gleaming in a bestial face, Bacchus himself, creator and Lord of the Bacchae, had come to the battle. A Demi-God, Xena thought, watching Bacchus irritably brush away one of her soldiers stupid enough to attack him, the force of the blow breaking every bone in the mans body and nearly ripping him in half. Now things really were going from bad to worse, no wonder Vandria had reacted so badly. With Bacchus himself present, there was no guarantee that anyone at all present apart from the Bacchae were going to leave alive. Xena and Vandria looked at each other, then at Bacchus again, then back at one another. No words needed to be exchanged, the order came from them both at the same time. Vandria knew when a cause was lost, Xena knew when a battle wasn't worth the cost of winning, it was all that either needed. "RETREAT!" they both shouted, as loudly as they could…

Bacchus looked at the army in front of him and snorted in amusement, although a slow-burning anger in his guts continued to grow as he felt more and more of his Bacchae dying, although they were taking a terrible toll on their attackers. Mortals arrogance never ceases to amaze me. They attack my home, violate the sanctity of my territory on Earth and slay my followers with no provocation, with no greater intent than to steal treasures that have existed for longer than any of then have lived. Pathetic, and, as well as that, to actually ever believe that they might succeed? I should have them burned alive and eaten before they die for such things, but, of course, there is always something better if you care to wait for it to come to you. In this case, a certain Chosen of Uncle Ares who needs taking down several levels on the scale of self-importance and worth, and what better way to do that than to force her to serve me as I see fit once she is Bacchae? After all, she is comely, intelligent, and a warrior few will ever compare with, she does have some things that make her worth keeping he thought, eyes scanning the battle. He watched calmly as a Bacchae with three knives sticking out of its chest and back ripped off the arm of a soldier and fed on the spurting blood even as he screamed in agony, other Bacchae swooped overhead and occasionally lashed out or snapped at soldiers below them, fangs and claws never failing to come back bloody. He watched as a Bacchae grabbed a female soldier, lifting her into the air with ease, breaking her sword-arm almost accidentally as she struggled, and flew off to one side with the woman, where she proceeded to rip off the woman's armour and clothes, fasten her fangs to the woman's breast and begin to feed. Then, something catching his eye, he was more than slightly surprised to see what looked like a Valkyrie, wearing leather armour and forest brown short leather skirt and tunic, long auburn hair flying loose around her, feathered wings of the same colour obvious behind her. A forest-brown eyepatch that was bound about her head with black cord covered her right eye, a single cloud-grey eye looking out on her left side, but she was swinging her sword and moving with uncommon skill despite this, more than a match even as she was for any one of his Bacchae if he was any judge. He immediately wanted to know just how any mortal had managed to get one of the elite female warriors of the Norse Pantheon fighting by her side, evidently even following her orders, but, more than that, he wanted her for himself. His eyes narrowed as he concentrated, calling out to his Bacchae on a subconscious level and telling them of his wish to gain the winged warrior, then his eyes opened fully once more and he smiled. Xena, Warrior Princess, really should have known better, even after his Uncle had told her what to expect, but that was a piece of stupidity that he could live with once she was his. After all, such a woman came along less than once every generation, and the addition of two such females to his Bacchae was something that he had no intention of missing out on, no matter the price, because the reward would be more than worth it. He stood and watched once more, his eyes on the battle. He was going to enjoy this, he decided. Oh, yes, he was definitely going to enjoy this…

Continued in Part 3.