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 4

"Sol, come on, were almost there" said the tall, thin woman dressed in dark forest-brown Amazon leathers, wearily continuing to walk on towards the sheltered clearing that she knew was just ahead. The woman behind her grunted a short reply that the leading woman didn't need to hear to understand, but she kept a smirk off of her face, knowing that the long trek out of Amazon territory to this hidden place would prove more than worth it once they finally reached it. They needed it, too, after all that had happened recently, with Bacchus and his Bacchae turning the entire Nation into Bacchae with the willing assistance of the traitor and now-Goddess Valaska. The bitch was now buried in a river of lava, thankfully, along with Callisto, nemesis of Xena and Gabrielle, which had solved two problems in one go, but both were immortal and a close eye would have to be kept on the river in case either or both of them somehow escaped in the future, that had been unanimously agreed by everyone involved as she recalled. She sighed, shaking her head, and her long, curly ash-blond hair shifted about her. She'd grown it out to the length that it reached almost the whole way down her back not that long after meeting her former love, Phantes the Centaur, mainly because he'd wondered what she'd look like with long hair, but he'd been killed before they'd really had any chance to get into that side of things, although she had at least borne his child, so she had something apart from fond memories to remember him by. Her cloud-grey eyes searched the edges of the deep forest slowly and carefully, but exhaustion was taking the edge off of her skills and she knew it, just as she was sure that it was having the same effect on her companion. Still, they were in the middle of a forest not that far from Amazon territory, heading towards a sheltered, safe place that she knew from getting lost as a child in the area before she'd managed to find her way back home, they were both armed, and they were both skilled warriors in their own right. Surely, she reasoned, they were safe enough that her idea to tell only Eponin and the Royal Guard that they'd be away for two days and weren't to be disturbed as they took care of some "personal business" wasn't going to come back in her face in the worst way? She shifted slightly, feeling the reassuring weight of the sword sheathed across her back, hilt extending above her left shoulder, and the knife sheathed at her left hip. Her companion was armed in the same fashion, and their clothing and general appearance would make it clear to any who saw them that they were Amazon, and therefore trouble, so to be avoided. Or at least, that was the theory, and it had always worked before. Why, then, did she have such a bad feeling about what they were doing? As though she knew that something was going to happen somehow but she couldn't tell what? She looked behind her, at her auburn-haired comrade, and cloud-grey eyes locked with chocolate brown. "Solari, do you think that something's wrong here, or is it just me?" she asked, softly. "Its not just you, I can feel it too. Any suggestions? Oh, and this was your idea, so if we get ambushed on the way to your little slice of paradise I am not going to be impressed, you know" replied Solari. "Thank you very much o beloved Sister-" the blond woman began, still looking at her comrade, when Solari's eyes suddenly shot open. "Ephiny, LOOK OUT-!" she shouted, going for her sword even as she began to run towards the blond woman, who began to turn even as she went for her own sword-something hard and blunt hit the back of her head, hard, and she was sure that she felt something crack before her world went insane, everything tilting sharply to the left even though she was sure that she was still standing upright. She lost all sense of which way was up, stumbled badly, not even able to control her limbs as her mind and eyesight told her a hundred different things about which way was up and down, left and right, all of which something inside was sure were wrong, and crashed to the floor. She hit hard, felt her nose snap, spots of red scattering across her vision, rolled to her back, over again, then to her back again. She caught a glimpse of two tall figures, broad shouldered and strongly built, men, not women, wearing full-head and face pitch-black masks which showed nothing but their eyes and leathers that covered them from head to foot, one holding a large wooden club rimmed with a steel band, the other holding a bloody dagger, a short-sword sheathed at his left hip, then strange colours shot across her eyesight and her body went as heavy as solid rock. Solari saw Ephiny struck by the club before the man with the dagger drove it into her lower back sharply but not deeply, withdrawing it with a smear of Ephiny's red blood on the tip, but then she had her own problems to worry about. A net fell out of the trees and she tried to roll out of the way, but it was too large and trapped her sword-hilt, left leg and wrist, leaving her effectively immobilised unless she wanted to risk breaking something. Cursing fatigue-slowed reflexes, she drew her dagger with her right hand, determined to make the bastards responsible for whatever was happening pay at the very least, only to see movement at all four corners of the net on ropes from the trees, including right next to her, as four men dropped out of the trees. She slashed at the nearest with her dagger, but he knocked aside her strike with his forearm and kicked her full in the face as she was unable to block or dodge it. Blood exploded from her nose and mouth, covering the lower half of her face and nearly choking her, and she felt her jaw snap and nose creak as everything faded to a tiny tunnel of light for a few long seconds. It was too long, the man stepped on her right forearm before she could move with a sickening snap of breaking bone that made her scream in pain, then he knelt and hammered his fist into her face-once, twice, three times. On the fourth, her battered body finally gave up the fight, and everything fell away from her into an abyss of deepest darkness...

The six men stood back from their newly acquired merchandise, silent as death, the one who had beaten the dark-haired Amazon unconscious ignoring the thick, heavy blood dripping from his black glove, and looked at one another. "Your sure that there aren't any others? These bitches don't tend to travel in small numbers outside their territory, you know?" asked one man, looking at one of the others. "I tracked them with my large companion here since they left their lands, and we kept our eyes and ears open. Believe me, their alone. Isn't that right, big guy?" replied another man, nudging a massive figure standing next to him who was well over six and a half feet tall and had a build that more than matched his height for bulk. He grunted in reply, but the men were used to his sounds-only method of communication and knew that he'd agreed. "A stroke of luck on our part then. Alright, drug the dark-haired one and tie them both up, then go and get the cages. Its about time we had some luck in any case, blasted Bacchae War turned everything upside down and made the Amazon's a lot more suspicious of strangers sniffing around their borders, not to mention much more interested in finding "lost" women who they sent off somewhere. You think that we'll get a good price for them down in Athens? Amazon slaves are becoming all the rage down there, I know, but..." said the man who had first spoken. "Are you kidding me, Boss? A pair of beauties like this? We'll get top Dinar for them, and if we don't, the Roman's will be more than interested-" replied the man who had spoken second, but a new voice cut in. "But, first of all, you have to live long enough to get there, or anywhere ever again. Not as easy as it sounds, believe me, but, then, I've got more experience than most to rely on in these cases. I'll make you an offer that we can all live happily ever after with just to begin with, though: leave the Amazon's here, let me take care of them, and I'll let you live to flee another day. Sound fair?" asked a woman's voice, from nowhere. Everyone spun completely around until they were back where they had started, all of them convinced that the voice had come from directly behind them only to find that it hadn't, and, at a series of quick gestures from the leader, the six formed up back to back in a circle. "All you had to do to refuse my offer was say no, you know" came the woman's voice again, and the men's eyes flickered all around, worried at their inability to locate the source, but no-one panicked, knowing that it was the worst thing that they could do. A dark figure stepped out from a tree barely a bodylength from the leader, and his eyes shot wide open in shock even as his jaw dropped. "A pity that I don't give second chances in cases like this, eh?" said the tall, beautiful woman. Raven leathers, dressed like an Amazon but for a silver chain-mail shirt and battle-skirt style garb that was formed of raven leather covered by strips of silver metal, a dark-brown fur eyepatch and what appeared to be dark-grey wolfs-fur lining at the edges of her leathers and boots, she caught the eye instantly. What really caught the eye, however, apart from the sharp, lone light-grey left eye, was her long, partially-braided wild auburn hair-and the extremely well-groomed Eagles wings that very obviously extended from her back. Her appearance, he couldn't help but notice, was decidedly feral, everything about her suggested a wild animal straining at the leash, just waiting to be released, her smile, her eyes, her face, her body...He suddenly went cold inside. He had had two choices, he realised, stay and fight or run and leave, but he'd been convinced that they could handle the threat so hadn't given the order. Now, he only had one choice left to make-how to die, slow or quick... Even as he watched, she drew a sword of gleaming silver steel from its scabbard at her left hip and a dagger of the same gleaming steel from her right hip, and proceeded to adopt a ready posture, as though she expected to be attacked. Abruptly, he suddenly recalled that there were five other experienced men with him, all armed one way or the other, and their giant comrade could very likely break this strange woman in half if he got his hands on her. Or, if they could take her alive, if those wings were real she could easily fetch more than any of the Amazon's on the basis that she was so strange. He smiled, why had he been so worried at all, he wondered? "Take her alive" he ordered, drawing his short sword, as did the three other men who had them, the others raising clubs. The giant led the charge, club raised, closely followed by two of the sword-bearing men, and the woman warrior didn't move as they approached, evidently having realised that her bluff had been called-his heart almost stopped. Suddenly, the warrior moved, very fast, and she span a full circle in a blurring flash of steel, expertly dodging the giants strike even as her sword slashed across at belly height. The second man came at her with his sword drawn, but she caught his sword on the hilt of her dagger as he thrust at her leg and countered with a slash across his throat before he could even begin to pull back. Throwing off the second, she ducked a wild slash at her throat that was meant to decapitate her if it connected, blocked a kick at her ribs with her right forearm and smoothly countered with a dagger thrust to the gut. The nine-inch blade sank in to the hilt, and the man's sword dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers as he looked uncomprehendingly at the dagger extending from his stomach, even as blood began to drip from his nose and mouth as it began to pour from the wound. His eyes widened with horror momentarily, then he collapsed backwards to his back, dead before he hit the floor. The giant was on his knees, moaning something incomprehensible as he held the bloody red of his own intestines in his hands and tried feebly to put them back inside him, while the last man was on his side on the floor, holding his throat with both hands as red blood oozed from between his fingers as he choked, breathing his last as his lungs filled with his own blood. The leaders heart started again, hammering madly as the woman rose smoothly to her feet with specks of his companions blood on her dagger and swordblade, on her armour and skin, and she smiled as she looked at him. The smile didn't have any trace of warmth in it, and he and his two surviving companions began backing away as one without any conscious decision. "Why do men always think that muscle and numbers are all that are required to win a battle? Do you truly think so little of any kind of skill? Of strategy? Of using what passes for intelligence in you for anything more than drinking, eating, rutting and fighting? My people may believe that war is the answer to everything, that dying a glorious and worthy death in battle is the best way possible for a warrior to die, and I should know about that, but even the stupidest warrior of Asgard knows when to fight and when not to, although he sometimes needs to have the rest pounded into his head. You mortal men, though...ha, to call the vastly greater number of you pathetic is a compliment. You never learn until its too late, and then, well..." said the woman, chuckling. Suddenly, evidently giving up waiting for them to come to her, she attacked them instead. The first man, wielding a club, turned to run as they scattered, but he didn't get three running paces before the tip of her sword lanced into and through the back of his neck, half severing his head and killing him instantly. The second man with a club barely got any further before a dagger hit him right between the shoulderblades in the small of his back, severing his spine. He staggered another step, then hit the floor at such an angle that he ripped out his left eye and tore open his cheek to the bone. His leg twitched, then he went still, dead. The leader drew his dagger and hurled it as he backed away, but the woman slapped it away contemptuously with her sword-blade before advancing on him. He slashed back and forth to keep her away as he frantically back-pedalled, but she barely missed a stroke and he barely knew what hit him. Their swords clashed once, twice, sparks flying, then she struck the sword from his hand and gashed his chest in the process as she disarmed him with a lunging slash. Her sword flashed up before he could move, cutting through his mask and into his right cheek, drawing a thin line of blood, and she swept his mask clean off of his face before her sword-tip was abruptly at his throat, dangerously, almost lethally close to his Adam's Apple, causing him to catch his breath. "The name is Vandria" she said, her voice a seductive purr, "Remember it" she added, looking him in the eye. Her single light-grey eye met his two dull ocean-blue ones, and he braced himself for the death-stroke, refusing to close his eyes-a boot cracked into his groin, hard. He suddenly lost the ability to think, breathe or act, doubling over as his own private world of pain exploded inside his body starting from his groin, then a fist holding a sword-hilt cracked into his jaw and everything abruptly faded away...

Vandria cleaned her sword on the clothes of one of the dead men, retrieved her dagger from the body of the one it was embedded in and cleaned it on his clothing, sheathing it once she had, then she tore up some of the cleaner clothes left and tied the hands and feet of the one living man. Going over to the now-unconscious Ephiny, she checked the blond woman's pulse, and cursed. It was weak and thready, and she'd heard the men say that their weapons were drugged, so there was no telling what she had running through her blood. It had been eight summers, yes, but she knew few enough mortals in any case, and she'd known that she wasn't going to forget the fiery Amazon, Ephiny, in a hurry in any case after seeing her, and her companion, Solari, wasn't easy to forget either. However, Solari had been beaten half to death and was clearly badly injured, so wouldn't be much help even once she woke up, and Ephiny evidently required the attention of a Healer with all speed. Vandria cursed again, there was only one place close enough, really, for her to get the required help with speed realistically, especially since the Amazon's would shoot first and ask questions later about someone who arrived with two injured Amazon's as Ephiny and Solari were. Amphipolis...

Things could be planned in advance if you were running an army, or if you weren't, you could plan nothing more complicated than a relaxing break somewhere quiet or a full-scale war with all that that entailed, and you could still easily find yourself side-tracked and delayed by any number of things that simply hadn't existed as far as you had known beforehand. In this case, the delay had consisted of a rampaging would-be Warlord with two hundred men at his command who had been trying to build himself a real army by forcibly recruiting all of the men of fighting age in all of the near-by villages, two bands of thief's and thugs, a disagreement that had gotten out of hand with a village Militia that had refused to believe that they weren't aiding the "Warlord" and a group of women who had been taken from the villages to "service" the "Warlord" and his men while they were in the area. The "Warlord" was now dead, his army, an ill-disciplined rabble, was dispersed, having run away, died in a brief battle that it had lost or been taken into custody by the villagers, all of the villagers, men and women, had been safely returned to their villages, and after a few heads had been cracked together the Militia had decided that maybe they were telling the truth, only to have it proved by the short, sharp and brutal events that had led to the destruction of the threat they had been formed to fight which had led to some embarrassed apologies. Finishing her mental check-list of the last moon, the tall, raven-haired woman leaned backwards and stretched her arms up and out behind her head, eyelids momentarily closing over brilliant ice-blue diamond-sharp orbs as her dark hair fell about her shoulders, face and back. Normally, the strongly built woman wouldn't have shown such tiredness and care for her own very real aches and pains, the half-a-foot shorter strawberry-blond young woman often commenting that she was often simply too stubborn to even admit that she'd been stabbed until she had to remove her soaked leathers to stitch up the bloody gash, but even she had her limits and she'd reached them in recent times. Besides which, she'd always felt comfortable about letting down her guard around the young woman for a reason that it had taken her almost two years to work out and accept, so she wasn't bothered if the strawberry-blond saw that she wasn't invincible as she worked so hard to suggest. She'd even taken off her breastplate, bracers and gauntlets and hung her sword and Chakram from the saddle of her trusty Palomino steed, leaving her clad in only her raven-black leathers, because it eased the strain on her tired frame, although she'd never admit it to anyone but her present companion. Tanned bronze skin and firm muscles were evident as she moved, but she winced as she shifted slightly, the legacy of two cracked ribs courtesy of a sword that had been stopped from cutting her in half by her breastplate but which hadn't lost enough of its force to stop it cracking bone. Her shorter companion was better off, long forest-brown dress and forest-green short top revealing a young woman's growing body, with strong muscles, tanned skin and emerald-green eyes, but she held an Amazon Staff in one hand and was leaning on it heavily as she wearily limped forwards, favouring her right leg noticeably. It was the end of a long, hot day, and both women were hot, sweaty, and wanted to do little more than stop for the night, see to their wounds and fall blissfully asleep in each others arms, but they still had a little way to go before they could, as was evidenced by the dirt road that they now walked on, surrounded by grass and trees and with little else in sight. However, the fields ahead of them were clearly worked and tended, and, as they continued on in the slowly growing darkness, the outlines of buildings lit by torches, most particularly a large, homely looking one that both knew well to be the town Inn of Amphipolis, became apparent. The tall, dark warrior straightened up and walked as though nothing was wrong abruptly, her Warrior mask immediately slipping into place, while her shorter, younger companion sighed with relief and increased her pace, her dark companion favouring her with a feral grin as she swept dark hairs from her face back behind her ears. Even exhausted, injured, and clad in only her leathers, unarmed, there was a ferocity and animalistic sense of danger clearly exuding from the dark woman as she grinned, and her younger companion felt as much as saw it and responded with a wicked grin of her own. It was good, at long last, to be going somewhere where they wouldn't necessarily be expected to help out every quarter-candlemark with something, both knew the other was thinking, so they set aside their aches and pains without a word being said and continued on into Amphipolis with noticeably greater speed than they had been walking before. It had nothing to do with the fact that a warm bed and good food and drink awaited them where they were going, of course, and they would have both denied any such thoughts if asked.

Due to the late hour, very few people were about, and those that were were mainly congregating at the Inn, where bad singing, not helped by too much strong drink in the sharp-eared warriors opinion, was clearly coming from. She could pick out about two dozen voices, all men, and was momentarily worried, but then she smirked and shook her head. Her mother had been dealing with the Inn and its regular clientele for as long as she could remember, and that was a long, long time ago. She likely knew better than her warrior daughter how to deal with an Inn full of drunken men who had little interest in anything but more drink and whatever fun they could have, and she wasn't so old yet that she couldn't crack a few heads together if necessary to remind people whose Inn it was they were in, a sharp wit and tongue as well as a strong arm being all she'd ever needed. Nevertheless, the sound coming from the Inn was growing louder and louder, and not just because they were heading towards it, and she couldn't help but wince as she heard a crash that sounded suspiciously like someone falling off of a table and smashing a chair as they fell on it. A young man and woman, hand in hand, scurried past furtively, but stopped abruptly as brilliant ice-blue eyes caught both lowered sets of eyes and then both froze still as they realised just who they were looking at. Emerald green eyes briefly swung to study the worried pair, then strawberry-blond hair rustled as the short woman leaned more heavily on her staff as she shook her head, concealing a smirk beneath long hair and stopping herself from laughing through no minor effort of will as she took in the sight of the two youths caught cold by her tall companions cool gaze. The raven-haired warrior stared at them for a long moment, her expressionless face giving away nothing, then she winked, one brilliant blue eye momentarily disappearing, and turned back towards the Inn as though nothing had happened. The two stunned youths stared at one another for almost half a minute before the warmth of their bodies burnt away the cold, worried feeling that the icy eyes of the Warrior Princess had created and they ran off, forgetting what had worried them almost immediately. Ice-blue eyes locked with emerald-green as the two women walked side-by-side, and the shorter strawberry-blond woman lifted an eyebrow in question at her dark companion, who shrugged. "Hey, I was that young once, Gabrielle" muttered the raven-haired warrior, who gave her shorter soulmate an almost-embarrassed smile to go with the muttered words. The strawberry-blond woman looked at the raven-haired warrior for a moment, then smiled and gave a very exaggerated wink in acknowledgement before looking back to the Inn once more, which they were now right outside. "Ready?" she asked, quietly, looking carefully at the tall warrior as she tied the horse to a post temporarily just outside the door. It was her mother that they were going to meet in a moment or two after all, and, after ten years of total alienation and a bare two of partial reconciliation, the dark warrior still would almost have preferred to walk into an ambush blindfolded and unarmed than go through the door. But she'd never backed down from anything in her life, and she wasn't going to let her mother be the start, so she prepared herself as best she could and walked in. It was just as she remembered it, excepting a few more tables and chairs, thick wooden walls and slate roof to keep the weather out, kitchen behind beaded curtain door, and, as ever this late at night, about twenty of the villages men and another ten women were sitting about talking loudly to be heard over the bad, drunken singing of about five tone-deaf farmers who were all barely over the age of twenty. It would have been six, but the last appeared to have knocked himself unconscious after trying to sit down far too hard and shattering his chair. Everyone was dressed in rough farming clothes, as ever, since Amphipolis lived off the land except for when traders came by, with the exception of a pair of drunken young men in one corner who were evidently even more drunk than the singing farmers. Those two were dressed in fine sea-blue tunics, dark-blue leggings and jackets, raven-black boots that were clearly designed for horse riding, and were young and reasonably good-looking, one having sky-blue eyes and blond hair the other having chocolate-brown eyes and raven-black hair that was clearly greased down. They looked enough alike to be brothers, and she suspected that they were. Hopefully they were just going to get drunk and then pass out and sleep it off even if they had to be carried to their rooms, though, and not try anything to spice their evening up, which automatically brought her to Gabrielle. The Bard was exhausted, black bags showing under her eyes and in her slow movements, and injured, her right knee having been dislocated by a kick in a fight and still being hard for her to walk on even almost a week after Xena had carefully reset it and bound it to keep it in place, although Gabrielle's reluctance to ride Argo while she could walk had been a problem, and she was still quite capable of swinging her staff with no small amount of skill and power if she put her mind to it. If trouble flared up, she wasn't the one who was going to get hurt unless she didn't have the space to swing properly, so Xena made a mental note to keep an eye on the two brothers. However, her attention was primarily captured by two things. First, a large, old woman beginning to run to fat who nonetheless expertly manoeuvred through the crowd with a tray of drinks balanced in one hand. She was wearing a worn dark-blue dress and dark-brown sandals, and her once dark-brown hair was now tinged with grey, although her bright emerald-green eyes had lost none of their sparkle in the past twelve years, and the fading traces of a youthful beauty were still evident on her face and expanding body. She was Ecstace, Cyrene's help around the Inn for as long as Xena could remember, and her warm, solid presence, friendly manner, never-failing warm greeting and the absolute impossibility of her ever getting depressed due to a sense of humour that Xena had never been quite sure was entirely normal it kept her so cheerful at all hours was always a sight for sore eyes. The second thing that Xena noticed was a woman slightly taller than Gabrielle, although at the moment she was on one knee next to the unconscious farmer trying to wake him up, whose raven-black hair was shot through with grey, and whose once lithe and firm frame was now beginning to soften with increasing age. She didn't need to see the woman's face to see the bright dark-brown eyes there, and the dark-red dress that she was wearing was as familiar to the warrior as the back of her hand, she'd seen the woman wearing it, touched it on occasion, for eighteen years, before Cortese, before everything had changed, and the only difference now was that it was more worn and patched but still lovingly maintained given the age it was now. Evidently, Cyrene still had some good memories of the old days that she dwelled on on occasion, and the dress was likely part of them. Xena had never had any doubts that she'd gotten her looks from her mother, either, her memories were a little hazy that far back, but she knew that she hadn't been wrong in her childhood assumption that her mother was one of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen. She still had a good part of those looks left, her increasing age merely gave added maturity to her in the lines on her face and the grey in her hair. She walked over slowly, ignoring the slowly dissipating hum of conversation as she was recognised, and put a hand on her mothers shoulder gently, Cyrene's head coming sharply around. Her eyes widened momentarily, but then a smile crept across her face. "Hello, mother" Xena said, softly, almost awkwardly, uncharacteristically not quite sure what to do or say, but Cyrene solved the problem for her by smoothly standing up and nodding. "Hello, Xena, its been a while" she replied, loudly, clearly so that everyone present could hear her and know that Xena's arrival was not going to be a problem. After a few unsure glances, people slowly turned away from the raven-haired warrior and her mother, although a stern glance from Cyrene was necessary in some cases, and in one case a particularly unhappy individual was foolish enough to challenge the luminous ice-blue chips of the Warrior Princess herself, which caused him to abruptly look away and find something interesting to do as eyes that had seen and knew far too much looked deeply into his with little trace of warmth. Looking around, Xena first of all met a pair of emerald-green eyes framed by strawberry-blond hair, which rolled in exasperation even as they regarded her with clear fondness and attraction, which she winked in the direction of, then she looked further around, and found herself caught and held by a pair of dark-brown eyes that gave no quarter to hers. Only three people had ever been able to do that with her, Lyceus had been one, Gabrielle was another, and the last, no matter what some people thought, had never been her father, Atrius. It was her mother, Cyrene, the woman who, she'd realised over the years, was far more of a true parent to her than her father had ever been. Her father had been a warm, comforting presence who'd started her off on the road she was now on, but her mother was the reason she had become who she was. Cyrene held Xena's eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Gabrielle is always around you, Xena, so call her out from wherever she is so that I can see you both, and be glad that she's better at writing than you are or I wouldn't have had any idea that you were coming. Don't look so surprised, either, I birthed you and raised you for eighteen years, and the day that you can hide something from me I can't work out or find out about will be the day I die" said Cyrene, ignoring her daughters startled and then sheepish expression as Xena waved a hand and Gabrielle limped forwards out of the crowd. Cyrene looked at her, then at Xena, then back at Gabrielle, and sighed. "Let me guess, its a long story?" she said, even as she began reconsidering certain arrangements given the state of her daughters companion-and possibly more given the smiles they kept shooting one another, not to mention the almost absent touches and well-concealed caresses that were passing between the two-but she pointedly put that to one side for now. After all, her daughter had been a Warlord for ten years, and if only half the tales that she'd heard were true Xena wasn't bothered who she lay with as long as the experience was satisfying, man or woman, not that she herself didn't know something about that... Cyrene shook her head to clear it, this was no time for a trip down memory lane, especially one going that far back. Gabrielle sighed, "Yes, but then there you go, that's us in a nutshell. Xena: Warrior Princess and Gabrielle the Bard, sometimes Queen of the Amazon's to the north of here, the story of how we even met started long, and gets longer every time I think about it. Add to that two years of travelling together now, and it gets reeeaaalllyyy long, but, hey, I'm a Bard, I like to live these things rather than hear about them, and I've never regretted it. After all, ol' tall dark and dangerous here makes a wonderful cushion during those long nights" said Gabrielle, elbowing Xena in the ribs while carefully avoiding the cracked ones she'd carefully helped bind up two days ago. Cyrene gave Xena a look which made it very clear that escape was not an option from a talk to be held later about a certain subject, then moved over to Gabrielle and studied her stance pointedly. "I see. Alright, Gabrielle, sit down for the moment and rest, and don't bother complaining unless you want to find out where Xena got her stubborn streak from, you look asleep on your feet in any case. Xena, go do whatever you need to but don't take long, I have this strange feeling that your going to be doing the talking and carrying tonight" Cyrene said, pulling over a spare chair which Gabrielle sank into with a sigh of relief with a helping hand from Xena. If it had been anyone but her mother or Gabrielle speaking to her like that, the next thing that would have occurred after someone even attempting to tell her what to do would have been short, sharp and probably physically painful, but instead the Warrior Princess merely nodded, turned around and strode out to see to Argo and their packs. An old saying floated through her mind as she did so, though, and even her iron self-control couldn't stop her lips from quirking slightly at it. "No rest for the wicked..."

Pella, Capital City of Macedonia, had once been a mighty city, with thousands of inhabitants, an efficient government that saw to its peoples needs and was careful to maintain the army against any threat from Warlords or otherwise, and a trading fair that never stopped throughout the year where anything could be bought for anyone at a price. It had been the crown of Macedonia in more than name, its rose, its heart, and it had been a place that more than a few Greeks had looked upon enviously, which had caused them to curse the Macedons and their very evident prosperity when things had not gone well in their own Cities and lands. That had been before the Bacchae War, before thousands of Bacchae had attacked and conquered Pella and those of its people who had been trapped inside it, transforming the women if they were of a suitable age or keeping them as concubines if they wished too, a fate that many of the men had found themselves subjected to, whereas the survivors who hadn't were tattered remnants of who they had once been. Men and children, the latter judged useless by the Bacchae as too weak to work and no use otherwise except for being bloodbags for thirsty Bacchae who were passing, had been decimated by the transformed women during first the invasion, then the conquest, and on until the city had finally been liberated by Bacchus's death. Even women who had been turned by the Bacchae had died in their thousands, slaughtered in battle with the combined Macedonian and Greek armies, and those who had survived both the transformations and the war were left tortured and horrified by the things that they had seen and, sometimes, done, not one of them ever being the same again. To make matters worse, when the land of Macedon had originally been conquered by Bacchus and his Bacchae, Amazon Enforcers, Bacchus's elite Bacchae troops, had been sent far and wide to quell and remove possible threats and trouble to Bacchus and his rule, and they had been, as was their way, very effective in doing so. Ruling bodies dominated by or comprised of men in villages and towns, even Pella itself, had simply ceased to exist along with those in question. Known troublemakers had had their heads stuck on stakes along roads leading to and from wherever they had lived to encourage people not to cause trouble, and any violent attempt at resistance had been crushed with ruthless viciousness that was a trademark of the Amazon's from times gone by resurrected by their transformation. Figures of authority and/or power had either been silenced or tamed. Amazon style Councils had replaced those bodies that had preceded them, and had always been run by Bacchae who took every opportunity to exercise their "authority" in whatever way they saw fit, in one village alone, not even near Pella itself, fifty men, mutilated by the removal of their genitals by giggling Bacchae, could attest to this, the Bacchae having decided that this was the best way for the men to "learn" what a woman's life was like, and much worse had occurred in the more troublesome larger towns and cities, of which Pella had been the worst. Blood-soaked cellars under buildings that had once been used by people who had lived in Pella were now avoided as though they contained the plague, and entire streets were completely abandoned, shutters banging in the wind, shattered glass still lying in the streets, doors torn from hinges, holes smashed in walls, ceilings and floors simply ignored and forgotten about. The City Hall where Bacchus had held Court was treated like an entrance to Tartarus, and the remains of the City Guard had had to forcibly prevent people from simply setting fire to it in an attempt to cleanse Pella of some of the lingering stench of corruption and death. It wouldn't have even made a scratch on the nightmare in any case, Bacchus had flattened half of the City in a maddened rage and the war had destroyed most of what was left, the battered remains barely being habitable, those few people who still inhabited the City staying inside most of the time, skulking from shadow to shadow when they went outside, still half expecting screeching Bacchae to attack them and rip their throats open at any time. Pella was a ghost of its former self, an almost-empty shell, and what was left of its people and its rulers were still trying to come to terms with what had occurred over only the last two and a half moons, let alone the rest of Macedonia. They would survive, recover and rebuild in time, they knew, it was the way of these things, but that didn't make it any easier to accept that loved ones, friends, relatives and allies who had been alive and well seemingly yesterday were now dead, never to be seen again, and most of what many throughout the land had known all of their lives was either destroyed, ruined, or damaged beyond repair. More particularly, Chief Councillor and Army Commander Zelius, the beleaguered leader of the Macedonian army after the disappearance of his former commander, Dion, who had actually become the Amazon Thraso, unknown except to a very select few of whom Zelius was one, was very aware of these things, and much else besides, all of it having been left at his feet apparently for him to solve single-handedly after his recent, unwanted promotion to the office of Chief Councillor while he still retained his position in the army on the basis that "He was the best man for the job"-which, in his opinion, meant that he was going to be executed in short order, unless he went insane first, since there was no way that he could even begin to cope with the amount of work, and so trouble, being literally hurled at him. He found himself wishing that Ephiny or Thraso had stayed around longer to at least give him advice on what to do in this situation, but the Amazon's had troubles of their own that needed dealing with urgently, the assimilation of a thousand new Sisters in the north of their territory, the former Thracian territories, being just one of their problems. As well as that, and more importantly, most of the men in Macedonia wanted them dead after what they had done under Bacchus, and there was nothing at all that he could to help. He sighed, just another problem to be considered...He rubbed his eyes, momentarily closing them and concealing oak-brown orbs, and tried once more to understand just how he had gotten himself into this situation even with the best possible intentions. His once dark-auburn hair was streaked with grey now, as it had been in recent years, but he was sure that it was getting more and more obvious day by day recently, while his still-strong frame was starting to show the effects of his years and the pressure that he was under, broad shoulders sagging, exhaustion creeping up on him more and more often and more and more easily as time went on. He was dressed in light colours, wooden-brown leggings and boots, sky-blue tunic and a golden medallion about his neck with a crown on it that signified his position as Chief Councillor, held about his neck on a cool golden chain, rather than his dark army uniform, but none of it made him feel any better. He was besieged on a daily basis by people protesting any number of things, there was the occasional assassination attempt by ambitious politicians or annoyed members of the Macedon people who wanted someone to blame, he didn't even have a full Council yet to help him run everything, let alone start to fix it all, and he felt as though his pet cat, Ixeus, a grey who carefully stayed away from the Hall his owner now worked in, displaying a great deal of common sense in Zelius's opinion, did as much to help him hold things together as any of his so-called "helpers" did. Despite all of this, and his being in his mid forties and not the man he had once been any longer, he was expected to somehow ensure that Macedonia didn't simply disintegrate just to begin with? Sometimes, he had to wonder if he could possibly persuade Zeus to help him out in some fashion if he had the ten most annoying politicians ritually sacrificed, but he kept disregarding the idea on the basis that not even a God would put up with the backstabbing fools if he or she had any choice, so the idea would be a non-starter just to begin with. "I always did think that politics was a game played by fools, liars and idiots, and I see nothing that will change my mind here. But, that isn't why I'm here, I'm here to help out a man who is none of these things, so that he can help me and mine do what we must. Interested? Oh, and don't call for your guards, they're not dead and neither are you, but that can change very quickly, all that I want to do is talk" said a deep voice-from nowhere. Zelius's head snapped around, his eyes flaring, and his jaw dropped as a figure stepped from the shadows right beside him, pulling back the hood of a raven-black cloak that covered the man completely. "Before you ask what you may regret, my name is Ibn'Amal Torquiori, and I am also known as the Nightslayer. You may have heard of me, or not, but I care not as long as you know who I am. I wish to exchange information for information, although I can deliver more if required, but first, General Zelius, I believe that I should find out for sure whether or not you are interested in such a deal?" said the tall, dark-black skinned man, his dark-brown eyes locking with Zelius's oak-brown ones. Zelius considered calling for help, but decided that it would only get him killed, then considered drawing his concealed dagger and threatening the apparently unarmed man, but suspected that all that that would lead to was pain for him if he was any judge, then he considered simply refusing to co-operate-but the mans gaze stopped him cold. The man was of the desert lands, that was unquestionable with his dark skin and eyes, and Zelius had always believed that such a harsh land could and would produce hard men, but he hadn't, ever, expected anything like what he was facing now. The mans face was cool, calm and expressionless, he was seemingly standing at his ease, but Zelius had been a soldier his entire life, and his knew how to tell the Wolves from the Lambs. The man was like a snake with a poisonous bite, whip-quick and instantly fatal if he chose to strike, despite apparently being at his ease mere moments before, and his cool, calm gaze failed to conceal cold, emotionless eyes that had a trace of something almost reptilian in them. Zelius swallowed audibly, abruptly realising that he was literally holding his life in his hands in this mans presence, and, thanks to a lifetimes worth of training and practise as a soldier, one who had had to face any number of threats and enemies any day of any week of any month of any summer, which had allowed him to build up a greater reserve of self-control, courage and determination than most would ever require or develop during their entire lives, he managed to force his numbed mind to think and his mouth to work. "What did you have in mind? In my position, I am open to all offers of a helpful nature, believe me" he said, somehow keeping the nervousness that he was feeling inside from his voice. "Good. It is as simple as this, I want whatever information you may have on Xena, the Warrior Princess, her companion, the Bard, and the Amazons. In return, I can offer you intelligence that you will be unable to gain anywhere else-for example, that Rome has offered both Sparta and Athens alliances against the other, and neither of them know of the offer to the other, and the Roman rulers of Illyria were killed by their own guards during an Orgy very recently, for reasons I known, before loyal guards butchered the "traitors". I can prove anything I say if I must, and there is much more" said Ibn', a smile appearing on his face as Zelius's eyes opened so wide that his eyeballs threatened to roll right out of their sockets and his jaw almost hit the floor. Zelius shook himself, "Lets just say this, that was a very, very good start..."

Eponin, Weapons Master of the Amazon's for the past ten summers, was, most decidedly, getting old. Or at least she thought so, and she had good reason to, now being in her thirty-first year, even older than the woman she respected most in the world, even including the now-dead Queen Melosa, Xena, the Warrior Princess. Eponin would have given half of all her years with the Amazon's to fight at Xena's side for half of that time, but not as a Warlords follower, which was what had stopped her from doing just that years ago. No, at the side of the Xena that she'd met now, Xena the heroine determined to make amends for her past by fighting the good fight, but she was, she really was, too old for that now-wasn't she? Somehow, she'd never managed to quite settle that question to her satisfaction either way, but, if she could pluck up the nerve the next time Xena and their Queen, Gabrielle, came to visit the Nation, she'd decided to ask Xena's own opinion on the question, although she wasn't sure that she'd want to know the answer. Eponin sighed, striding on long legs towards the Healers Hut, long, firmly-muscled arms swinging at her sides, sword in swordbelt at her waist on her left hip, forest-brown Amazon leathers old and worn but still sturdy and respectable. Her long, not well cared for dark auburn hair hung thickly behind her, combed out only because it got very distracting if it became all tangled, and her rough face, attractive but not beautiful, or at least, again, she thought of herself so, was, as ever, compressed into an almost expressionless warriors mask, a trick that she'd noted Xena had perfected long ago. Her body was muscular and solid rather than curving and attractive, but she'd found out over the years that this just attracted certain of her Sisters more than others, not just the ones that liked to fight surprisingly enough, and her hard, cool eyes were dark oak-brown, again only showing what she wanted them to, but she had never had any trouble getting across what she wanted or wanted done with no more than a glance if necessary. It was a talent that moved Amazon Sisters, even the new ones from the former Thracian villages now in Thermiscrya and other parts of the Nation to see how their Sisters lived, out of her path very quickly and without any argument or challenge. It had been Regent Ephiny's idea-Eponin flushed at the memory that thinking of the curly-haired blond Regent brought back-to have the new Sisters from the north mix with the rest of their Sisters, mainly to see that the way Hera had told the new Amazon's was right and traditional, not to mention downright savage and barbaric, was not, in fact, the right one, and was, in fact, an outdated leftover from times long past to the Amazon's now. It had been a good idea, and seemed to be working, slowly but surely, but Eponin and Solari, the everyday guardians of life in the Nation when Ephiny wasn't taking a direct hand, still had to warn other Sisters to be careful when dealing with them even two and a half moons gone. She just hoped that they'd at least eased up on their ways somewhat by the next Mating Season, or the men weren't going to come back for the Summer after that without some real persuasion and enticement. Reaching the Healers Hut, Eponin pushed aside the thin curtain door and strode inside, looking around for Ordahlia, the Amazon's chief healer and a woman who was even older than Eponin herself-well, by two years only, but time was time, especially to the ever-literal Weapons Master. A few of Ordahlia's helpers and one or two apprentice Healers were visible inside, the helpers helping the injured or ill Amazon's on the beds inside, few of which were occupied, thankfully, while teaching the apprentices their trade as much by example as actually imparting knowledge through words or created examples made of wood or cloth. Eponin nodded at the sight, good, she preferred teaching her students in the art of war in the same fashion, there was no real substitute for actually seeing something done in reality and then doing it yourself, but she didn't try to keep a scowl from her face. After all, she reasoned, as Chief Healer, Ordahlia really should have been the first person that she saw in the main Healers Hut. Then Ordahlia did appear, her heavy, round build covered by Amazon leathers that covered her from neck to knee, unlike most, her short, shoulder-length auburn hair tied in a tight bun behind her head. Her face was shaped like her body, but intelligent, cloud-grey eyes gleamed in her face. She glanced up on seeing Eponin, and raised an eyebrow, passing a jar of something to one of her helpers as she did. "Yes, Eponin? Is there something that I can do for you?" she asked, dryly, used to being asked to fix broken bones, cuts and bruises caused by Eponin at any time after a practise session between her and her students got out of hand-if Eponin saw fit to let it. Ordahlia and Eponin had an understanding based on mutual respect of the others skill, but they didn't call each other "friend", so they simply did their jobs and worked together efficiently when necessary, based on Ordahlia's "If it isn't broken, don't fix it" rule. However, somewhat to Eponin's embarrassment in this case, she actually needed Ordahlia's help in a matter which was actually quite personal, and, despite trying to come up with an alternative to taking the big Healer along, there simply wasn't a question that the woman was the best person for the job, not least because her bulk was mainly muscle and she could easily pull her own weight if necessary, as she had proved to both Ephiny and Solari, as she'd been told, during the Bacchae War. "I need your help with something. Here, its better if you read this first, it'll make it clear to you" said Eponin, pulling a piece of paper from under a bracer and handing it to Ordahlia. Curious at what Eponin meant, Ordahlia unrolled the piece of paper-torn scroll paper, as it turned out-and read through the note that was written on it quickly.

Pony,

Sol and I are going for a walk in the countryside a way from the Nation for a while, and were leaving today to be where were going by sundown. All of the usual arrangements apply, and your in charge as usual until we get back. Count two more days after the day we leave, and we should be at the borders of the Nation at the very least. If were not, you'll get a message explaining why. If neither of these things occurs, come looking for us by the falls where Jiana used to go to relax-the place that you, me and Sol found after her death, you know where it is. Hope for the best but prepare for the worst in this case. Otherwise, best wishes and don't ask if we arrive back by ourselves, need I say more?

Ordahlia looked up at Eponin and sighed, "I take it that this means that you have checked and the worst has evidently occurred?" she asked. "Yes, unfortunately, particularly with all these "Amazon's must die!" idiots around the borders at the moment. I need a Healer with my party, and your the best one we have available. I'm bringing Thraso and seventeen others and leaving Asmara in charge here until we find out whats happened to Ephiny and Solari. Were leaving tomorrow morning, just in case, so be ready" said Eponin, then she retrieved Ephiny's message, turned and strode out of the hut once more, but not before Ordahlia had caught a glimpse of uncharacteristic worry, and more, glittering in Eponin's usually controlled eyes and face. Staring after the Weapons Master, Ordahlia cocked her head and smirked. "That "I'm too tough for my leathers" routine doesn't fool everyone, no matter what you think, you "carved-from-stone-great-Amazon- warrior" you..." she muttered, so that no-one would overhear her, then she turned and went back to her room in the Healers Hut to begin packing for her forthcoming trip.

Xena yawned and sat up in the soft bed that she was sharing with Gabrielle, carefully edging out from under her strawberry-blond soulmate as she did, nudging a firmly-muscled leg off of hers and unwrapping Gabrielles arm from its grasp on her right shoulder, blond hair and head from her left shoulder. That done, she pulled herself out from under the blankets, noting with some satisfaction that the sun was only just beginning to rise, rose to her feet and stretched, pushing a very strong feeling that she could be lazy just this once wrapped in Gabrielle's warm embrace in a soft bed to the back of her mind through sheer willpower, combined with the thought of what she could do to the Bard the next night to make up for an early start today, which would, of course, lead to a late start tomorrow... Smirking, Xena pulled on her shift as gooseflesh began to appear on her body, then her "home" leathers, an idea that Gabrielle had had to tone down the whole "Warrior Princess" image while she was at...home, trying to relax and not cause her mother any more trouble than usual. A loose white tunic, dark-brown leather boots and leggings and a jerkin that could be tied at the front with three leather laces, all of which, she was sure, did nothing to enhance her "Warrior Princess" reputation but did serve to enhance her "Simple but beautiful" look, even though, of course, while you could take the Eagle from the sky, you could never tame it. She wouldn't have done it for anyone if Gabrielle and her mother hadn't worked together on a two-pronged assault to make her do it for their sakes, and even then it had been touch and go for a while, but she had a soft spot that she'd never admit to for the both of them, and even the old Warrior Princess hadn't been made of stone covered with ice. The Conqueror would have cracked under the combined pressure the two people closest to her alive had applied, and that part of her was only a controlled slow-burn deep inside her now in any case. Of course, never failing to heed her instincts, she carefully hid a knife in a concealed sheath under the right sleeve of her shirt, then she turned, unbarred the door, took a last look at the sleeping Gabrielle, who looked almost irresistibly cute curled up snugly in their bed, shapely figure obvious even under the blankets, and quickly walked outside and closed the door before even her resolve failed her. Looking about and letting her almost unnaturally sharp senses take in everything about her, she allowed a brief smile to cross her face when she heard the faintest of sounds from the kitchen, nowhere else, no-one else being up, turned and walked down the stairs, going to the bead curtain separating the main Inn from the kitchen, and, sweeping the curtain aside, she was unsurprised to see her mother, dressed in a royal blue skirt and tunic, already up and about starting to get the kitchen sorted out even before the sun came up. Some things really did never change, she thought, carefully keeping her face straight. She deliberately allowed the curtain to fall back into place, creating a slight rattling noise, and Cyrene's head lifted as she turned, a smile appearing as she saw who it was. "Its about time, Xena, I was beginning to think that you were going to let your old mother do all the work. Get that big pot down from the shelf, will you? Oh, and no, I haven't forgotten about that little chat we had in mind involving you and Gabrielle" said Cyrene, turning back to the fireplace that she was cleaning out before setting a new one. Xena raised an eyebrow, but did as she was asked, being careful because of her cracked ribs. The iron pot wasn't that heavy despite its size, however, and caused her little trouble. "Set it here-good, thanks. Well, we're alone, so lets get started shall we? For a start, don't even try and deny that you and Gabrielle are lovers, I'm neither blind, deaf or stupid, but I want some of the details filled in. Can you tell me for sure that this isn't just you again? It wouldn't be the first time that someone's fallen for you so heavily that they don't even know why after nothing more than a glance in those eyes of yours and we both know it" said Cyrene, pointedly, although she took care to avoid using a tone of voice that could be considered insulting. She and her daughter had an uneasy truce more than anything, although things had begun to thaw between them over the two summers since their partial reconciliation, and she still wasn't sure how far she dared push her dangerous offspring. Fortunately, Xena didn't mind talking to her mother about most things these days, and "most" included her and Gabrielle. "Its not me, mother, at least not all me. She practically seduced me for one thing, and don't pretend that you haven't noticed that she could melt butter with those eyes if she wanted to. If I was a fortress commander I'd say that I'd been sweet-talked into letting the enemy through the gates without a challenge, only then to find out that "enemy" was as far from the truth of the matter as the God's like to think they are from the human race. If you let Gabrielle under your skin and into your heart you'll be putty in her hands, and I did, partially because I didn't realise what I was doing until it was too late to do anything about it, and I didn't want to stop it in any case. I just returned the favour. After all, I've got a reputation to uphold, I can't let it be said that I let someone ten years my junior and not even a warrior like me seduce me, can I? Even if she could beat most of the warriors I've known over the years with only that staff of hers" Xena replied, plucking an apple from a nearby shelf and biting into it absently as Cyrene rolled her eyes at her daughters ever-wandering nimble fingers. "I see, and I believe you, I know Gabrielle, even if not as well as you do, and I have no trouble believing that she could charm the bark off of a tree if she tried. One other thing, then-how serious are you two about each other? I like that young woman, Xena, and I don't want to see her hurt, understand?" asked Cyrene, looking her daughter in the eye. Xena smiled fully and openly, something she rarely did. "Lets just say that commitment has never been a problem and leave it there..." she said, with a wink that nearly made Cyrene chuckle aloud. "I see, she really does have you tied up in knots around her little finger, doesn't she-what?" asked Cyrene, suddenly alarmed as Xena's head rose sharply and her eyes narrowed. "Horses, coming closer, at least six. Amphipolis doesn't have people riding into it on horseback first thing in the morning very often as I recall, and, unless I'm missing something or you're expecting someone, I think that its safe to assume that this may well be trouble. I'll get my sword and Gabrielle, stay inside and don't let anyone know that your here" Xena said, then she span and hurried back up to her and Gabrielle's room. She'd heard the soft metallic tinkle of the horses bridles before she'd heard the soft snorts and thumps of hooves that told her how many there were for certain, and, with her experience of riding horses combined with a masters knowledge of horses and their care, she was certain that at least the first four were mounted, by whom was anyone's guess. With such small numbers it was unlikely that they were anything more than travellers with pack horses, but, as she knew well from often having used the tactic herself, "simple travellers" could also easily be disguised scouts for an army to evaluate whether or not the village was worth taking, and, if it was, what there was to take and who was likely to put up a fight, more commonly known as intelligence gathering. Amphipolis was a small town, but it was reasonably wealthy with a fair-sized population, not hurt-despite most not believing it-by the fact that during all her years as a Warlord, she'd made it very clear, by whatever means necessary, that the town of her birth was under her protection. She could recall someone challenging that before Draco two years ago had, a Warlord called Masithius who had had a large, ill-disciplined army and a great deal of arrogance, who had, five years ago, about the time that her army had defeated the Bacchae but almost been annihilated in the process, decided that the Warrior Princess had had her day. She'd had little-to-no army to speak of, been injured herself, having a dislocated shoulder as well as her broken leg that she'd rammed back in but hadn't even begun to heal properly, not to mention numerous cuts and bruises, and his army had been three times the size of the exhausted remnants of her own. All of the odds had been weighed in his favour, and the population of Amphipolis had been ready to give Masithius whatever he wanted to spare their lives and homes, then she'd arrived. She was badly injured, she'd lost the only person who'd stayed loyally by her side since the Amazon's of Asia, Vandria, to the Bacchae, and been forced to watch her die, watch someone she'd called friend by the end be torn apart, literally. She'd lost both her son, Solan, and her love, Borias, not long ago, she'd lost most of her army in a struggle that she likely shouldn't have even gotten involved in, and, worst of all, she was feeling grumpy and unhappy even by her standards. It hadn't been pleasant, it hadn't been quick, and it hadn't taken place within sight of Amphipolis, but the sight and stench of Masithius and the survivors of his army, first crucified, their legs broken, then set fire too and left to die in a fashion almost too appalling for some of her men to believe, had stayed with her for weeks. The monster that she'd been back then just hadn't cared, though, those who'd dared challenge her had paid the price, and she'd just moved onto other, more interesting things in due course. Now that sight and smell haunted her through her nightmares, and, she was sure, always would. She simply wasn't going to allow that to happen to Amphiopolis ever again, no matter what, but nor was she going to even consider going to the lengths that the Destroyer of Nations would have done with but a moments thought. Reaching their room, she opened the door and hurried inside, grabbing her sword and sheath and hanging them on a earth-brown belt around her waist. Gabrielle moaned in her sleep, but didn't wake even at Xena's sudden and noisy entrance, so Xena resorted to her back-up plan in case of emergencies. Pulling down Gabrielle's blankets, she whispered something that she knew would wake even the hard-to-wake Gabrielle instantly, even as she tried to ignore the soft curves and warm, tanned skin revealed by her actions. "Nice view, Gabrielle, but you don't have to flaunt it in front of all of the Amazon's, you know" she whispered, well aware that Gabrielle was convinced, rightly, that most of the Amazon's tried to spy on the two of them bathing or changing, and that the Bard-who was private to the point that she got embarrassed undressing in front of her sister Lila, although never her raven-haired soulmate-was about as happy with the idea as she herself was at the thought of even considering Gabrielle spending a single night with someone else. She, on the other hand, growing up with two brothers in a small town like Amphipolis where all of the kids knew each other, had never had any trouble with her body, whether or not it was exposed to view, and had actually quite enjoyed teasing the boys something appalling, and the girls as well to a lesser degree, mainly since she wasn't entirely comfortable with that side of things when young. Not that that had stopped her in later years, though-Gabrielle's eyes flared open and she shot bolt upright, grabbing at blankets that Xena had thoughtfully moved out of reach, then she frantically curled up into a ball to cover herself, just before she stopped cold as she abruptly remembered where she was. Her eyes opened so wide that Xena briefly wondered whether her eyelids would stop before her eyes fell out, and she shot a look at her raven-haired soulmate that would have made anyone but the Warrior Princess step backwards quickly, a mixture of disbelief, anger, and a well-concealed immediate desire for appropriate revenge. Xena forestalled it all with a raised hand, however, accompanied by a sharp look. "We have company, get dressed and downstairs quick, we'll talk there" Xena said quickly, then turned and left before Gabrielle, for all of her Bardic talents and sharp, quick wits, could even begin to think of anything to say to stop her. Rolling her eyes, Gabrielle scrambled out of bed quickly and began pulling on her normal walking clothes even as she noted that her staff was still folded up in the corner where she'd left it. Not that Xena normally needed help, but it was still better if she was there to give it, just in case. Xena strode quickly along the landing and down the stairs, but she heard the back door bang open suddenly, and her normally-silent steps were abruptly so quiet and controlled that a mouse would have missed her if she'd stepped over it on the steps. "The main entrance is around the front, thank you, and besides, were not open yet" came Cyrene's calm voice, which only made Xena accelerate almost to a slow run, but then a new voice spoke in reply, and Xena's heart missed a beat as she froze on the spot. It can't be... She's dead... ran through the Warrior Princesses mind, which was suddenly empty of almost all else, almost including the will to live. "I'm not blind, Innkeeper, if that's who you are, but nor am I stupid. You can always find someone in an Inn at any time of day, more than likely someone who knows the area well, and, believe me, that's what I need right now. If there is a Healer anywhere in this town tell me where she or he is, now, unless you want at least one body, maybe two on your hands, blood and all" replied another woman's voice, one that had meant a great deal to Xena, once. Once, before she'd died, six summers ago. Starting to move again as her natural strength of will overcame the uncharacteristic shock that the woman's voice had left her in, Xena left her sword in its scabbard even as she walked slowly forwards, reaching out to move aside the bead curtain door as she approached it. "Yes, of course we have a Healer, and I certainly do not want two people dying on my doorstop, but why would they? Don't insult my intelligence if you want my help, young woman, there must be a reason for these two being here in such a state, whoever they are, and it had better not be you" said Cyrene, pointedly. ""Young woman..." now that's something I haven't been called in a while...Never mind that, I saved these two from an ambush by slave traders, but they were both left in a real mess by it, so help now would be truly appreciated. Oh, and I have the slavers leader with me to, he's the only survivor and he's a little tied up at the moment, but I still think that your Magistrate might be interested in what he's been up to, not to mention the Amazon's when your done with him. Do you still need a reason to help?" asked the woman's voice, even as Xena silently pushed aside the bead curtain, although she still wasn't silent enough. The grey-cloaked figure-wolfs fur, Xena noted, how typical of her old...friend?-span instantly to face the curtain, her hand going to her sword-hilt-her single light-grey eye, her left, shot open, and she froze, just as Xena had a moment ago. Xena somehow managed to smile as she looked at her "long dead" friend, despite barely even being able to think straight. "Hello, Vandria" she said, softly, as the thunderstruck Valkyrie simply stood and stared at her, momentarily incapable of doing anything else...

Quickly limping down the stairs of the Inn, Amazon fighting staff in one hand and the other clutching the banister to help keep her upright, dressed in her usual grass-green top and earth-brown dress and boots, Gabrielle made her way down to the kitchens of the Inn, where she was sure that she'd seen Xena heading a few moments ago-a scream of fury that was part the cry of an enraged human, part the scream of an attacking Eagle, altogether no sound any human could make, even Xena, suddenly erupted from the kitchens. A startled cry followed, Xena's voice, abruptly cut off as the distinctive sound of flesh on flesh sounded, and, to Gabrielle's shock, Xena suddenly hurtled through the kitchens curtain door in mid air, crashed down on a table, which shattered beneath her, dumping her to the floor, and didn't immediately jump back to her feet and charge straight back at whoever or whatever had attacked her. In fact, she was actually too shocked to, from the look in her sky-blue eyes, and then the figure who had attacked her came through the curtain after her, her single light-grey eye wide open and her teeth bared in a snarl of fury. "You BITCH!" snarled the woman, striding over to Xena and raising her foot to stamp on the prone warrior's face even as Gabrielle looked on, momentarily too shocked to act herself. Xena recovered her wits in time to jerk her head to one side, avoiding the stamp, but the grey-cloaked woman struck with such force that her foot snapped the floorboard underneath. Xena frantically rolled over and to her feet even as the woman wrenched her foot free, but she still didn't draw her sword even as the woman threw her cloak off and moved into an unarmed combat posture. Gabrielle's eyes fastened on the impossible, and her legs stopped listening to her as her eyes and mind refused to take in what she was seeing, mainly since the woman clearly wasn't a Harpy. Wings...? "Vandria, in Ar-in Odin's name, stop this! What in the names of all the God's do you think your doing?!" said Xena, adopting an unarmed combat posture herself as the Valkyrie slowly moved closer. "What am I doing?! I'm giving you a lesson in loyalty and memory, "Warrior Princess"! Six summers ago you leave me for dead even after you beat that piece of Iscarl spawn, you never even think to stop and search for me, to see if I might even possibly still be alive, and you don't even try to kill Bacchus on the basis that you've beaten his army and so "avenged" my "death"! I saved you from death twice in a single day, from a fate worse than death in fact, TWICE, and you LEAVE me there, for SIX-DAMNED-SUMMERS, a slave to an Odin-damned MONSTER!? I should KILL you, Xena, and the only reason I'm not going to is that I'm still bound to you by Blood Oath and Life Oath! May Thor strike me down now and Odin disown and banish me if I lie!" exploded Vandria, grinding her teeth so hard that Xena was surprised that she didn't crack a tooth even as the Valkyrie flexed long fingers into and out of fists. Xena didn't know what to say, and there was nothing she could say, really, every single one of Vandria's words and accusations were true, and the oath that she'd just sworn was among the most sacred that she could. Added to that, coming from no less than a true Valkyrie, there would have been a real reaction from the Norse Gods had she truly been saying any untruth, and, while she didn't like any of the God's, or believe in them really, she had more respect for Vandria's Gods than she'd ever had for even Ares at the height of her career as a Warlord, mainly because of Vandria herself. After all, she'd always reasoned, no people who created a woman warrior like the Valkyrie could be that bad. Xena spread her arms helplessly, deliberately leaving herself open to attack, although she knew that Vandria's inhuman strength made her easily capable of crippling or killing even her if she put all of her strength into a blow in the wrong place. "There's nothing to say, Vandria, except that your right, about it all. I was a bitch then, a monster, all I cared about was victory and conquest, not my men, not you, you were all a means to an end, everything was, even my own body. All I cared about was the fact that Bacchus had given me a bloody nose and beaten me in the first real engagement, and I wanted blood in repayment. I saw what happened to you, but I genuinely didn't think that you were still alive, so I stopped caring about whether you were or not as long as I got back at Bacchus and made him pay, and I did. I lost better than two thirds of my army, got badly injured myself, but killed almost all of the Bacchae and sent Bacchus running for his caves with his tail between his legs, where we couldn't follow. That really, really was all that I cared about then, although I admit to missing your blade later, and you, but that was then, and this is now. I can't give you back what you've lost, I can't undo what's happened, but I can do one thing. If you want my blood for what I did, take it, you've the right and far more than that, Odin's daughter" said Xena, saying all that came to mind, all that she possibly could, all that could mean anything, even using the rarely used term of affection and respect that Vandria had once told her was used by those few Northmen and women who ever got to meet their Lords daughters before their death. So saying, she dropped her guard completely, and looked Vandria in the eye with an expression that accepted, completely, whatever the Valkyrie saw fit to do to her as punishment or reprisal for her past. However, Vandria slowly did the same, then a slow smile spread across her face. "Just when you thought you'd heard it all... You always were a good liar, Xena, but I was always good at telling when someone was lying, and your not, you mean all of that, and that's more than enough. Welcome back to the side of what's right, Lion of Amphipolis, you've been gone far too long" said Vandria, softly, reaching out with a hand that Xena grasped with a warriors handshake that was firmly returned. Vandria smirked, "Although your not getting off that easily, mark you..." she added, quietly. They were interrupted by a cough, from Gabrielle, who looked at the two of them and sighed. "Will someone please tell me just what's going on here?" she said, even as Cyrene appeared from behind the curtain door to see that everything was all right now that the fighting had evidently stopped...

Vandria and Xena looked at each other, without releasing the others hand, then they stepped back and away from and released one another quickly, a smirk appearing on the Valkyries face as Xena looked embarrassed, even as a bruise began to form, very obviously, on her jaw. "Its a long story, Amazon, although I have to admit that your the strangest Amazon that I've ever seen" said Vandria, running her eyes up and down Gabrielle. "How did you-? Oh, the staff, I really am going to have to do something about that one of these days. Never mind that, though, who are you, what are you, what are you doing here and how do you know Xena?" Gabrielle asked, without pausing to stop for breath. Cyrene sighed as she looked at the snapped floorboard and smashed table, even as Vandria's eyebrows rose sharply and Xena tried to hide a smirk in turn. "Well, I like someone who's direct, although now is not the time, so we'll have to talk later. Xena, I didn't expect to find you here but your a sight for sore eyes in the situation as it stands. If this town has a Healer, mind you, kindly get him or her now, and hurry. Now come on" said Vandria, sharply, then turned and strode off back into the kitchen, smoothly retrieving her cloak and settling it back across her shoulders to conceal her wings as she did so. Catching her mothers eyes on her, Xena could do little more than shrug and follow the Valkyrie out, after all, she didn't know what was going on any more than anyone else, but, the moment that she set foot outside and saw the reason for Vandria's urgency, explanations and questions that she had been considering went straight out of the window.

A dark-haired woman dressed as an Amazon was leaning against a horse right outside, one that Xena momentarily didn't recognise, then the battered, bruised and broken woman lifted her head, and only the Warrior Princesses iron self-control stopped her jaw from dropping openly as her eyes shot open. The Amazon was one she knew, Solari, Ephiny's companion and lover, and she looked as though an entire herd of horses had trampled over her. Her right forearm was braced and set with pieces of wood bound with strips of torn cloth, her face was black and blue with bruises, swollen to the point that she was almost unrecognisable, and her jaw had clearly been broken and reset by someone with a rudimentary knowledge of medicine, likely Vandria herself. Her eyes were badly bloodshot, her lips were swollen up from having been smashed against her loosened teeth by whoever had hit her, and her legs were trembling even as she did nothing more than simply stand still, clutching the horses saddle to keep herself upright. Behind her, on the third horse, tied to the saddle visibly by ropes, a rough, travel-stained forest-brown cloak failed to conceal long, curly ash-blond hair and a youthful face that Xena knew only too well on sight. Added to that the Amazon leathers, partially visible under the cloak, and it was far from hard to see that the second Amazon was the Regent, Ephiny, who, with nothing worse than a broken nose apparently, also appeared comatose with no visible cause, which started Xena's heart hammering very quickly. The fourth horse carried a man tied to the saddle, dressed all in black clothes with an open and recent sword-wound on his right cheek and a very obvious large black and blue bruise on his left cheek and jaw. He was hog-tied, gagged and tied to the horse so tightly that he couldn't even hope to move except to breath, while, behind him, two more horses, carrying gear and nothing more, sat, the last one, the closest, carrying the same as the last two but clearly being Vandria's choice of mount from the way that she was scratching it behind the ears affectionately as it nuzzled her. "By Zeus... How did...?" asked Xena, but Vandria just shook her head. "As I said to your young friend, now is not the time. Need I say more?" she said, softly, nodding towards her three companions...

Eponin was not happy, Thraso, although she wasn't showing it as openly as Eponin was, was even less happy, and the Amazon's who were carefully scouting out where the trail of Ephiny and Solari had abruptly ended were very aware of this, not being allowed to forget for a moment by Eponin's glare on them if she so much as thought that they weren't doing something useful. Clenching and unclenching her fists, Eponin turned to the Lead Scout, Isoria, and glared at her, causing the smaller woman to look away abruptly. "All right, Isoria, run through it for us again, and this time give us all of the details, not just "There are five rotting corpses scattered around here you know" and the fact that no-one else is here, understand?" Eponin said, practically grinding her teeth. It wasn't a fair description of what Isoria and the other scouts had discovered, she knew, they already had discovered almost all that there was to be found, but she'd been growing steadily more strained with worry since setting out on the expedition that they were on, and now her worst fears had been effectively confirmed. Thraso was standing ready to grab her if she decided to hit something or someone she shouldn't in an attempt to gain answers that couldn't be extracted by such means, and Ordahlia looked as though she was already making out a mental list of possible worst-case scenarios for the two missing Amazon's that would require her assistance in her head, but the young scout didn't seem to know what to do about her increasingly annoyed commander. Isoria had sea-green eyes and shoulder-length sun-golden blond hair, a slim frame that still clearly had womanly curves under her leathers and eyes as sharp as a hawk that missed nothing. Despite her youth, she held the position of Lead Scout in the circumstances because she had an uncanny knack for following tracks, ranging from insects as small as ant-or so it was said-to a bird in flight, and there was, quite possibly, nothing and no-one that she could not find given time. As well as all of this, she was fiercely loyal to the Nation, and it was an open secret that she had her heart set on the position of Chief Huntress in due course, so she had a great deal to prove, all of which made her perfect for the mission in hand in Eponin's opinion. Strangely, though, as was also an open secret in the Nation, as yet, she had never accepted an invitation from any of her Sisters to share their bedrolls, ever. Eponin focused on the facts being presented, however, as Isoria began to speak. Young or not, relatively inexperienced or not, the young woman was unquestionably the best the Amazon's currently had at what she did. "Ephiny and Solari came this way about a day ago, but never left. They were on their way through here to somewhere else, where I don't know. By the looks of their tracks they'd been walking for most of a day and night to get to wherever it was they were going quickly, but there were...those were waiting here for them" said Isoria, gesturing at the five bodies that had been left to rot where they'd fallen by whoever had killed them. Taking a breath, she continued, not looking happy. "There were six attackers, all men from the footprints, waiting in the trees with nets to capture them from what we can tell, but it wasn't a planned ambush, the men were just in the vicinity and realised that Ephiny and Solari were coming before either of them spotted the men so had enough time to prepare. They caught Ephiny cold for certain, there are traces of blood where she fell, and they caught Solari too, but she put up a fight and had to be knocked unconscious at a guess through brute force, there's blood there as well, more than with Ephiny though. Then I don't know precisely what happened, but another warrior, a woman from what we can tell, the tracks are strange, just seems to appear in the trees over there. She didn't come over and through the trees, we've checked, and she didn't walk along the ground either, so we can't tell where she came from. Whoever she was, she walked out of the trees to challenge the men who attacked our Sisters, and killed five of six in a fight, capturing the one who isn't here wounded, there's blood where he fell. After that, she got the men's horses from where they were hidden after a search for them, put our Sisters and her prisoner on them then rode off, to Amphipolis on the road leading there believe it or not. Just one problem, she's not Xena or Gabrielle, the tracks are wrong, and if she was an Amazon she'd have brought everyone including herself to us. That's all we can tell with what we have to work with" said Isoria, raising her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I could follow the tracks to see if they do go to Amphipolis if you want?" she added, clearly trying to do everything that she could to be useful and to prove that she was willing to do whatever was necessary. She'd clearly told everything that she knew, and so likely everything that there was to know from the tracks, but none of it was making Eponin feel any better, and, in truth, the ageing Weapons Master was starting to feel something bad happening from the sensation in her guts that had never lead her wrong yet. Thraso turned slightly to look at Eponin, the tall, green-eyed Amazon's dark-black hair shifting about her as she moved, even as Eponin tried hard not to notice the ample curves concealed by the Amazon's leathers. It wasn't that she didn't like Thraso, she did, a lot, it was just that she was still having trouble accepting the fact that the stunning woman, of her own age apparently, had once been a man, General Dion of Pella, a fact that Ephiny had made clear to all of her inner circle of Lieutenants who helped her run the Nation, along with a warning that it was not to become public knowledge. "Eponin, maybe we ought to consider just going on to Amphipolis and seeing what there is to be seen. No-one I can think of there has particular reason to want our heads on spikes as I recall, thanks to Xena's being with us while the Bacchae War was going on I admit, since she'd have personally butchered anyone who'd even considered it, but also because Xena might actually be there and we do need to talk to Gabrielle and her about a few things, you know?" said Thraso, raising an eyebrow, which Eponin nodded in acknowledgement of. Some things they did need to discuss with their Queen and Xena, indeed, but there was no way, yet, that they could discuss them even with each other in earshot of their Sisters, the subjects in question were simply too disturbing for that, let alone to indulge in casual conversation. However, even as she began to reply, she was forced to abruptly spin around as an out-of-breath guard from the perimeter of their temporary camp arrived at a dead run, being forced to simply pause and catch her breath for several long moments. "Riders... two of them... on the Amphipolis road, Weapons Master, and you'll have to see for yourself why you need to see this..."

Red had known the young woman called Andara since she was nine summers old, fourteen summers gone now, and, an almost unique experience in her "lifetime", she'd actually gotten to see the young girl grow up, from a girl to a young woman, to what she was now, and she wouldn't have changed a thing given the choice. Myniria, Andara's mother and an old acquaintance of Red's from long before even the child's conception, had extracted a promise from the reluctant Red that should anything happen to her, Andara would be raised and looked after by one of only two women the Amazon trusted to do the deed, the same woman who was really the only possible choice. Cyrene had been ageing by the time that Myniria had even taken her journey to Egypt, and, with Atrius, had three children of her own, two sons and a daughter, to look after, so asking a favour of the woman as she had of Red simply wouldn't have been right according to Myniria's own code of honour. Added to that, she disliked Atrius because of something about him that she couldn't explain that made her uneasy, a feeling that even Red had shared, so she'd bypassed Amphipolis altogether on her way to the coast. Red had initially thought that she was being handed a great deal of trouble for at least the next nine summers by agreeing to look after the young girl, but, as she'd rapidly discovered, she couldn't have been more wrong. Andara had never been a bawling young brat of a child as she'd expected, instead she'd taken after her mother, being quiet, well-behaved and thoughtful. She'd also been a very quick study, had a degree of natural talent with any weapon that had been impressive even by the ancient Red's former mortal standards, and had been a pleasure to know as she'd grown and matured, physically and emotionally. Red could easily recall the elderly child-lover that she'd discovered Andara with, grey-haired and weak but still more than a match for a child, who'd bought the child at a special slave-auction for children, separating Andara from her mother at too young an age for purposes that Red had less than no tolerance for, and never had. She could recall, also, with a great deal of pleasure, just what she'd done to that particular piece of filth once she'd found him. They'd found pieces of him all over Cairo for weeks afterwards, and no-one had ever even dared to speculate on just what might have actually happened to him, let alone who or what could and would have done such a thing. Now Andara was grown up, a woman in her prime at twenty-three summers of age, and it showed. Hair so long it fell to below her waist fell in silken-smooth strands, so dark auburn that it was almost red, fell forwards to frame a face of almost elfin beauty, full crimson lips and catlike gold-flecked emerald-green eyes merely adding to the effect, as did her tan, dusky golden skin having absorbed the desert suns rays over many long years to fine effect. Fine high cheekbones, smooth skin and a slim throat merely added to the effect, and, as one looked lower, a perfectly-proportioned curving woman's body that would have caught the eye of any man or woman in any crowd or gathering became extremely obvious, long-limbed, firmly-bodied and slender with no trace of any excess weight on a finely-toned body and muscles. Loose raven-black leggings and leather boots covered her legs and feet, a shirt with long sleeves cut away under the shoulders and tight at the wrists, a close-fitting leather belt edged with silver holding her clothes to her slim waist. From her left hip a small hand-sized dark wooden crossbow hung, trimmed with gold, a raven-dark quiver of bolts next to it, and a sword was slung diagonally across her back so that the hilt rose above her left shoulder, the hilt of steel lined with silver, as was the blade. Most people would have thought the weapons ornamental more than tactile, but Red had access to an armoury that would have given Ares a fit if he'd seen it and she'd made sure that the weapons were anything but. The sword was lined with silver, yes, but the design meant that it was actually lighter and far sharper than it would have been otherwise. It was also lethal to Red's own kind if it struck one of them a fatal blow to a mortal, a precaution that she'd thought wise given the weapons arcane nature. The hand-sized crossbow was the same, it was designed to be possible to be wielded by a child if necessary, and it had a unique balancing mechanism that not only made it almost impossible to miss when using it if the person utilising it had any eye for shooting at all, it also made it possible to use at a dead run if so wished with no more difficulty than standing still. Of course, as ever, there was a hidden weapon, a dagger concealed in the left boot of the same design as the sword, but Andara was a mistress of the blade and could defeat Ibn' in single combat with her bare hands if necessary, an achievement that would have given the Warrior Princess herself pause for thought, so the hidden back-up blade was for emergencies only. Around her upper left arm, worn under her shirt but just visible when her arm was raised, Andara wore an armlet of intertwined gold and silver and, about her neck, she wore a silver necklace which held a blood-red hexagonal ruby at its tip which nestled in the hollow at the base of her throat, worn just under her shirt. Both pieces of jewellery had been her mothers, and had passed to her on her mothers death, so she had worn them every day of every season of every summer since. The armlet had been designed to fit her mother, the necklace hadn't and it had barely sat comfortably because of it, but both could have been designed specifically for the young woman, a fact that Red didn't believe for a moment was coincidence. She might not have been on speaking terms with the Fates, but she knew the shape of something greater when she saw it, and she was looking at it now. Shaking her head very slightly so as not to disrupt her concentration, Red raised her head and looked about once more, confirming what she already knew. Trees on both sides of the road held Amazon's, four Amazon's on each side, with strung and loaded bows pointed directly at the two of them. She could hear the creak of gut strings as the breeze blew, the sound inaudible even to some of the Amazon's, she could see traces of shadows and movement where there should be none, she could smell the sweat of tense female bodies, she could taste traces of the sharp tang of fear and anxiety in the air, could feel a sense of resolute determination and self-discipline holding back that same fear and anxiety. The Amazon's were nervous, she'd heard and glimpsed a ninth run off through the trees to elsewhere at speed, and why shouldn't they have been? It wasn't that often that two warrior women like Red and Andara appeared out of the blue right on the border of Amazon territory, armed and clearly ready to fight if necessary. She suspected that it didn't hurt that Andara was such a striking, youthful beauty either, she was well aware, just as Andara was, of the fact that the toll of passage through Amazon territory for women was often nothing to do with money or goods and took candlemarks rather than a candlemark or two to pay in full, but they were just outside Amazon territory here so she doubted that they'd dare. She'd altered her own appearance, of course, as she always did when she was abroad and didn't want to be known instantly due to her unique appearance, so she was using her normal disguise of her own mortal form, black skin so dark that her raven hair was barely darker and mahogany-brown gold-flecked eyes, her armour colouring altered to resemble what she had tended towards then to, raven-black and shining-bright silver. Of course, she wasn't going to deny that she drew the eye like Aphrodite in a village full of young men who hadn't seen a woman in ten years, worse if she lead them on on purpose, and she'd always preferred women in any case, but she wasn't here to indulge her appetites in that regard just yet at least. First, she had a promise to keep to Myniria concerning her daughter, Andara, and the Amazon tribe that Myniria had once belonged to, then she had to see an old friend, ally and sometime lover about an Emperor and a woman who had died a long time before her time. She could indulge herself later, after all, it wasn't as though she was going to run out of time. She was mounted on a black stallion, a personal choice made as part of a reward that the extremely grateful Athenian President had offered for services rendered in Illyria, Andara had an auburn horse that would have done any rider or owner proud with its combination of great speed and stamina, and Ibn', typically, had chosen a horse that was so bad tempered and violent that it was beyond sanity in its Greek owners opinions. A day after they'd met Ibn' could have ridden the horse through the flames of Hell and fought the King of the Underworld with his bare hands and the horse would have waited until he'd won or died and fallen at his side if necessary, but then he always had that effect on animals, somehow. It had been worth being present just to see the Greeks faces, however, when Ibn' had spoken softly into the "insane" horses ear after dodging its hooves, then mounted it and rode out as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Red dismissed thoughts of the past with a moments effort of will, deciding that they'd waited long enough, and breathed in deeply before speaking loudly. "Would any of you, perhaps, be of Queen Melosa's tribe?" she called out, wondering just what kind of reaction she was going to receive for being so direct...

Ecstace had been roused from bed at the sound of the brief fight between Xena and Vandria since she had a small room near the kitchen inside the Inn, and so she'd been the one sent to fetch the town Healer. Gabrielle and Xena, the two most able-bodied people around despite their injuries excepting Vandria, had, aided by the Valkyrie, half-helped half-carried the badly injured Solari inside to a spare back room that supplies were usually kept in. Xena and Vandria had simply carried, as gently as possible, the comatose Ephiny into the same room and laid her down carefully on the bed next to Solari, then they had gotten the Slavers leader, the only survivor of the group, off of the horse that he was on, taken him inside and tied him to a chair, leaving Gabrielle to watch him. Xena had considerable expertise as a Healer, and she'd had little trouble resetting Solari's broken bones after numbing the limbs or areas in question and bracing them before releasing her Touch, the cleaning up of the wounds and stitching being relatively easy as well. Once cleaned up and with her injuries tended to Solari was easily assessed as being in no danger, so they had tended to Ephiny, and that was when the real trouble had begun. Reasoning that since Ephiny had been left comatose by some kind of drug it would wear off in time, particularly since Slavers couldn't sell the dead, Xena had made sure that Ephiny wasn't going to die then she'd tended the Amazon's injuries and discussed with Solari and Vandria just what kind of drug might have been used, especially given the state that the young Amazon was now in. However, Ephiny's injuries had proven slight, a shallow stab wound in the back, a broken nose that was easily reset and, worst, a very slight skull fracture, but none of it was anything that wouldn't have healed on its own in time. However, even with these injuries treated, Ephiny had totally failed to respond to any and all attempts to wake her up, and Xena had begun to truly worry, so she'd resorted to her back-up plan. Unsurprisingly, this meant seeing how well the man responded to her questions while her Touch was on him, giving him the standard thirty seconds to live. Unfortunately, he still wasn't proving co-operative, but she suspected that it was just a matter of time. "I always did think that this was one of her best tricks, you know? "You'll be dead in thirty seconds unless you answer my questions, and you might just die if I don't like your answers anyway..." What? Doesn't she use that line any longer?" asked Vandria, as Gabrielle glanced at her with a strange look in her eyes. "No, she just says "I've just cut off the flow of blood to your brain, you'll be dead in thirty seconds unless you tell me what I want to know". Did she really say that once? She never told me" replied Gabrielle, sounding slightly annoyed. "She changes what she says for maximum effect I suspect, what you hear her say is the bare essentials so as not to waste time by the sound of it. Which reminds me, has she ever told you how and where she learnt that particular trick? She never would tell me" asked Vandria, to a shake of the head from Gabrielle. "No, but I'll find out one day" replied the young Amazon Princess, watching her Soul-Mate carefully.

Xena, while automatically absorbing what was being said and storing it away for future reference as she always did as a matter of habit, otherwise ignored her two companions, focusing instead on her captive, ice-blue eyes cutting into dull ocean-blue like steel into flesh even as blood began to run from the mans left nostril down his face. "I'll say this one more time, then I'll start to get bored and ask you something else differently. What did you use on your knives and swords to drug the blond Amazon? I'll know if your lying, and you don't want that" said Xena, a pleasant mile on her face, her eyes and tone of voice so cold that the man would have shivered if he could have as he felt ice form across his soul. He gritted his teeth, but he could feel the pressure building up inside his skull and knew that if he didn't say something, give this madwoman at least part of the truth, he might just find himself discovering whether or not the Destroyer of Nations was indeed everything that she was supposed to be. There was just one problem, he didn't know himself what the drug used on the Amazon's was, nor why Amazon's were really particular favourites in Rome this season, evidently particularly with the very uppermost classes of Roman society, including Caesar himself. Men and women seemed equally interested, though, and some of the prices being quoted defied belief, so he made a point of not asking too many questions for the big money. "I-don't know what's on the blades, that's the truth! Were just-told to draw blood and theee-drug will do-the rest! The drug comes from somewhere in Rome, we don't know who manufactures it for us or where, we just use it on our blades and do what-we do!" he hissed, the pain in his head growing and growing. Xena's left eyebrow rose, "I see. Is there anything useful that you can tell me?" she asked, not breaking eye contact with the man as she leaned even closer. He no longer doubted that the woman in front of him had once been the Destroyer of Nations, and in all probability really still was, especially if the face in front of him, and those eyes, were any example of her in a bad mood, especially given what he could see and sense. "Just-where we take them. Must-have an antidote there-or-least-we think so" said the man, his vision starting to dim. "Good, and where is this?" Xena purred, ready to release her Touch in any case as she ran out of time. The man choked, swallowed, then managed to say one word that only Xena heard. She hissed in anger, released the man, who instantly collapsed, unconscious from the pain, turned, and looked at Vandria and Gabrielle. Then she said one word, all that needed to be said, softly spoken but very distinct, "Illyria".

The Healer arrived just after the Slaver passed out from the pain just before Xena released her touch, saw the bleeding man and glared at Xena with obvious venom. It wasn't surprising, as Xena was well aware of the old Healers dislike of her, and it was well-founded, another regret that, like so many others, cast yet more darkness on her soul. Twelve summers ago, the old Healers son had followed her into battle against Cortese, passions inflamed by Xena's speech, the righteousness of their cause and the fact that he was finally going to be able to prove himself a hero with his own sword, muscles and mind alone. He'd died screaming in unbearable agony, guts in his hands, blood filling his lungs, slowly and torturously, and the old Healer had been the one man who could even possibly have saved him. He hadn't been able to, so instead he'd sat holding his sons hand tight the entire night, holding him close, and in the morning he had single-handedly built a pyre and cremated the body. His wife had died a year before that, and even then he had been well over fifty summers. She'd suspected that if he'd been ten summers younger he'd have tried to kill her for what she'd done rather than just spitting on her shoes and turning his back on her and those who followed her. He was well over sixty summers now, but his step was still firm and steady if slow and his hands were still as dextrous and steady as a man fifty years his junior. His piercing ice-blue eyes were encased in an ancient face made of wrinkles, surrounded by a thick white beard and shoulder-length white hair, as pure white as the driven snow. His body was thin and seemingly weak with age, not concealed by the light blue tunic and leggings he wore, nor the dark-brown sandals, but a single glance told Xena that in every way that mattered he was still the man that she had known, a Healer that she had never known the equal of. She had no idea of his background, but when she'd been a youth he'd gotten her started on learning the art of healing, and she was well aware even after so many years that he knew tricks that no-one else she'd ever met had even heard of. His name was Mattius, and if looks could have killed she'd had needed a month to recover from the venom in his eyes, but he was just what they needed right now so she was glad that her mother had thought to lead him into the back room herself. Looking back at Vandria and Gabrielle, Xena's eyes hardened. "Well, you now know as much as I do, and, as I'm sure your well aware, I'd have known if he was lying, so now we seem to have a problem that I'm not sure, how to solve. If someone in Illyria does have knowledge of whatever drug this is we need to find out who, get to them and get the antidote to it as soon as possible. I, for one, dislike having anybody at all, Slavers after Amazon's in particular, using drugs that I've never heard of that have the kind of effect on someone that they've had on Ephiny, so I intend to do something about it. However, we can't just march into Illyria, knock at the doors of the Palace and ask to see the Roman Governor as though were the representatives of Athens under military escort, we need a plan. We can't get there and back unless we want to travel during the winter, and although that wouldn't be anything that we haven't done before you should believe an ex-Warlord when she says that we do not want to even possibly get trapped in Roman-held territory with no easy escape. Ship traffic out of Illyria so soon after the conquest will still be under tight Roman control, so stowing away is very unlikely to work, too, so we start to run out of options as far as simply getting there on foot are concerned. Vandria, I know that it would be a push, but if you had to how fast could you get to and from Illyria's capital if you did nothing but reconnoitre?" asked Xena, automatically falling back into the old General-Soldier routine where her old friend and trouble were concerned. Vandria lifted an eyebrow, but a smile flickered across her lips as Xena started thinking through a plan, a sight that was always worth watching in the Valkyries opinion. "If I only stopped to eat, drink and sleep and didn't carry heavy gear, assuming nothing went wrong, two weeks, more if you want me to look for something in particular. Just like old times, no, Xena?" replied Vandria, wondering just what the reply would be. Xena's answering smile was slightly sad, "Just like old times, Vandria, only completely different..."

Mattius used language referring to the people who kept slaves of the world that only a man of his years could have gotten away with in the company of anyone in the town except Cyrene and her family, or Xena's friends, sighed and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly and deeply for several long moments, then opened his eyes once again and looked at Cyrene. "I've seen this before, but I still have no idea how to treat it. Its a mixture of a powerful sedative and something else that I was never able to puzzle out that the victim will never shake off, and if they don't it will kill them in time since they can't eat or drink. I hate to admit it, but I am at a loss here quite frankly. Do you have any ideas here, Cyrene? Does that Demon outside or her friends? Because if they don't, I think that I ought to seriously consider giving this woman something that would finish her off painlessly and quickly rather than leaving her to waste away like this" he said, gesturing to the comatose Ephiny, unconscious next to the sleeping Solari, who was too deeply asleep to be disturbed by two people talking even with her battle-trained instincts, those instincts being numbed by the extent of her injuries temporarily. "As a matter of fact, I do, but you won't have what I do know to be able to help her with this, only those who make this thing ever have it. Don't ask, its a long, long story" replied Cyrene, waving away Mattius's surprised and questioning glance. "I see, then what to do? If she has a chance, everything that I know says that she should be granted even the possibility of life, but if she doesn't have a chance she stands to suffer a death of appalling pain. I've seen men and women who've died of thirst and starvation, Cyrene, and I've watched them die too many times, I won't let such a thing happen here if I can even possibly prevent it. However, she is young and strong and, from what I know of your daughter, she is trying to think of a way to solve this problem herself with her companions at this moment. She will last at least two, maybe three days before she suffers irreversible injury, maybe longer given that she is Amazon, but once she has reached such a state I will, make no mistake, end her pain as quickly as I can without pain. Until then, however, I believe that we should hope and, perhaps, pray, because without a God's help, your daughter will need to become one to do much here I suspect, you understand me?" said Mattius, softly. Cyrene nodded, an unreadable look in her eyes. "All too well" she replied, barely whispering the words loudly enough for Mattius to hear, causing his eyebrows to rise as he began to wonder just what Cyrene meant by saying such a thing. After all, as the town Healer for most of his very long life and given that he had lived in the town for almost his entire life after being born in it, he should have known what Cyrene was talking about if anyone did, particularly given how close they'd once been, but he didn't...

It was night at last, and Eponin had finally calmed down enough that Thraso had been able to get some rest rather than standing by her at all times in case she suddenly felt the need to break something, even something rather vital to herself, out of simple frustration. None of them had any intention of admitting it, not even Thraso, but they were all growing rather alarmed by the Weapons Masters behaviour, which seemed to be becoming more erratic the longer they took to find further trace of Ephiny and Solari, although Thraso had noted long since that it was when the Regents name was mentioned that Eponin seemed to become severely unhappy. The short-tempered Eponin had been unable to rest as well, claiming that she wasn't tired until Thraso had threatened to knock her out and have Ordahlia sit on her if necessary to ensure that she got some sleep, which had forced the irate Amazon to take to her bedroll or else. She'd fallen asleep in mere moments, right after ensuring that the guards would wake her if anything happened at all, and was now sleeping like a baby, although Thraso had expressly warned them not to tell Eponin how cute she looked when asleep, a standing order in any case, until they got back to the Nation since Ordahlia didn't have time to waste resetting broken bones and stitching cuts. Four guards stood watch at all times around the campfire just outside of the circle of light thrown, two of them in trees two of them on the ground, switching every candlemark and a half for a fresh four until daybreak to ensure that everyone would be up and ready to move as soon as possible in the morning. Everyone not on duty, in this case including Ordahlia, Eponin and Thraso, was supposed to be resting prior to their own watch, and everyone was but one, Isoria, the Lead Scout. She was rolled up in her bedroll, but she was lying with her back to the fire, looking at the other fire not so far away where Andara and the oddly-named Red were camped, neither of them bothering to keep watch as though, to them, it didn't matter. Eponin had been astonished by Red's question if they were of Queen Melosa's tribe, and had been left practically speechless once she had tried to talk to the strange dark-skinned woman, barely able to get out a coherent sentence, although she'd managed to ask for the two warrior women's names and purpose in travelling so near Amazon territory. However, not one of her fellow Amazon's had been surprised when Eponin had offered to allow them to travel with her and hers to Amphipolis, even though they clearly needed no help, and all of them had had to hide secret smiles when the larger dark-skinned woman, who evidently spoke for the two of them, had accepted the offer even though Amphipolis was only a days ride away. If the two had been crossing the Nation there would have been bloodshed over who got to collect the "Toll" first, and Isoria was of the belief that there was a better than fair chance that either one or both of them would have been invited to remain with the Amazon's permanently without much thought on anyones part. Even Eponin, loyal to the Amazon Nation since she was born and of the highest possible standing short of being of the royal blood in the Nation, had clearly been caught thinking thoughts that had nothing to do with it for once, nor anything to do with anything connected to it. What her thoughts in this instance had clearly involved were the woman called Red, herself and, if possible, the woman called Andara, in a private place, with no clothes or inhibitions and a week to spare with no need to move more than six feet at any time. On the other hand, she was hardly exceptional, everyone there had had the same idea very obviously if one knew what to look for, and Isoria did, but she had other ideas. More specifically, she had one idea in particular, and it involved something that she'd never even considered before since, truth be told, she wasn't interested in bedding a fellow Amazon or woman at all, she found the physical act with men far too satisfying to have ever felt the need. That had changed very recently, when emerald-green gold-flecked eyes had met with hers, and a smile had spread across a perfect face, now she couldn't get the woman's smile, or other thoughts about her, out of her mind no matter what she tried, so she'd stopped trying. She'd noticed Andara slipping away from her and Red's camp like a ghost with such silence and skill that it was almost though she was not actually there, although almost anyone but Isoria would have missed her even if she hadn't tried to be silent, but the woman's actions had provided her with the perfect excuse for some time alone, just the two of them, as long as she didn't miss her watch. Given her innate sense of time, the chance of such a thing even possibly happening was simply too absurd to even contemplate, so she didn't. Instead, she rose from her sleeping roll like a ghost, silent as a whisper and fast as a striking snake, turned and moved off a fast stride the way that Andara had gone. The woman hadn't left any tracks, but Isoria had a great deal of skill and experience in tracking almost anything that had ever set foot on the Earth that still walked on it, and she easily followed the woman by her unique scent as well as her innate sense of direction, a feeling that she got when she was tracking something and already knew what she was looking for that was best described as uncanny. Andara's scent was as unique as she was, strawberries and a trace of the strong scent of something reminiscent of an old beech tree, which allowed Isoria to track her with little trouble, but she quickly heard slight splashing sounds before she saw the woman, and when she did at last see what there was to be seen, still hidden by the trees from view herself, she was forced to stop and stare.

Andara was bathing in a small pool hidden by trees and mounds of earth. The trees extended around the pool and close to it, but not so close that they obscured the light from above or filled the pool with their leaves. It was nearly winter, so it was undoubtedly cold in the water, but the young woman failed to show any sign of discomfort as she leant back in the pool and rolled her head around on her shoulders to loosen up the muscles of her neck, a trick that, as Isoria was well aware, if done right was a great help in relaxing before sleep. Andara evidently had a great deal of practise in relaxing her body before she slept, however, since she didn't merely shift her head about, she proceeded to rotate and flex her shoulders, arms, hands, body, legs and feet about even as she barely moved at using a fluid style that didn't seem to "fit", for lack of a better word, what most people considered human norms of range of movement. Isoria practically swallowed her tongue at the sight of the sun-bronzed skin of the woman being so revealed to her, she would have been unable to prevent herself from speaking if she hadn't, not helped by the fact that the shallow pool didn't cover the woman's body to the shoulders, showing just enough of firm, round breasts to entice the eye like nothing else. Andara ducked herself completely beneath the water, coming up with her long hair soaked and water streaming down over her face, hair and shoulders, then she lay back in the pool and closed her eyes, her breathing slowing and deepening slowly but surely. Isoria was momentarily worried that she was falling asleep in the cold water, which might possibly leave her in real danger of drowning, but something inside gave her consciousness a kick to remind it that, even with only her limited knowledge of the young woman, even the possibility that she might do something as foolish as this wasn't even a consideration. "Unless your nothing but a voyeur, would you care to join me? I feel a little silly just sitting here relaxing and resting while you watch" came Andara's soft voice, slightly musical and with an accent to it that Isoria just couldn't place. Isoria was so shocked that she literally jumped at this, she was absolutely sure that she hadn't made the slightest sound and that she was invisible behind trees and heavy branches, but then Andara's eyes opened and she looked straight at where Isoria was concealed. "If your not going to join me, though, please leave. I may not place much value on privacy, but I do value mine enough that when I can gain some I wish to retain it for as long as possible. Decide now" called Andara, still looking straight at Isoria's hiding place. Isoria shook her head and stepped out from behind the trees before walking slightly self-consciously over to the pool and the slightly-smiling Andara, kneeling down next to her. Andara just looked at her, "I'm not under the impression that a fault among the Amazon's is shyness, so get in here with me woman, I don't bite, unless I have reason to" she said, a twinkle in her eye. Isoria swallowed, stood up, and, with slightly shaking hands, pulled off first her boots, then her top, then her skirt and loincloth. That done, she stood nude for a long moment, trying not to tremble, before stepping into the shallow pool and sitting down in it opposite Andara, trying not to stare at the healthy curves barely concealed under the clear water, only rendered even partially hidden by the dim moonlight. Andara smiled, "Your not used to this, are you? Any one of your Sisters would have dived into this pool with me headfirst reguardless of the consequences if I'd made the same offer to them, you know? Yes, I thought that you did. Let me guess, you like men?" said Andara, eyeing Isoria with open admiration, even as the young Amazon felt a blush appear on her skin and face despite the cool water. "Well...yes, don't you?" she replied defensively, trying not to admit that Andara's simple presence so close to her was arousing, although some part of her was still very uncomfortable with the situation as it was. "Yes and no, I've only ever been with two people in the way you mean, the first was a man, the second was a woman. The man could please me in ways the woman couldn't but the woman had first-hand knowledge of parts of the female body that men have never heard of and knew just how to use them all, oh, and she was far better at kissing than the man was, softer lips and actually knew how to use her tongue, but I'm not going to go into that. I'm easy either way, fun means men pleasure means women, I'll make my choice of which I prefer in twenty years if I have the choice thanks. But you, your young and beautiful, skilled, intelligent, ambitious and, if I'm any judge, loyal to the Amazon Nation. Your quite a catch, and I'm amazed that none of your Sisters have ever tried to reel you in-or, if they have, that you haven't let them. One thing that my mother always told me was that the only things you ever regret in life except your mistakes are the things that you haven't tried, no matter what they are. Haven't you ever thought of these things like that? Or weren't you born an Amazon, leaving you with the idea in your head implanted by some Greek or Macedonian woman when you were a child that women and men share the night, never women and women or men and men, hmm? Oh in Artemis's name stop blushing, don't even try to tell me that you didn't know that they do it to each other too" said Andara, even as Isoria became sure that the water near her was boiling away from the sheer heat of the blushes spread all over her body. "Uhm...in all honesty I never thought of them like that, now that you mention it. Yes, I, sort of, did have a Greek mother, Amirra, came from Thebes, but they were married as children and he regularly beat her since he said he had the right as her husband. One day she couldn't take any more, slit his throat with a carving knife while he was passed out from drink and fled the city before anyone found out what had happened, eventually ending up here. I've been with the Amazon's since I was ten, she died when I was twelve from a broken heart, and I've been trying to live up to everything that she taught me ever since. Uhm, just so were clear, and this goes no further, I have had several offers from my Sisters, and I actually accepted one but couldn't go all the way, she never forgave me for it. Can we not do the history thing where my parents are concerned, please? I really don't like talking about that kind of thing, and you now know as much about my parents as anyone alive except me anyway" replied Isoria, speaking rather more quickly than she needed to. Andara raised an eyebrow, "All right, but fair is fair. My father was killed before I was born, my mother died in battle when I was thirteen, and since then I've been raised by a professional assassin who is regularly hired to accomplish impossible goals and always succeeds, and her" she said, not needing to say who "her" was. Isoria, interested despite the fact that she'd just noticed, for some reason, that every single part of Andara's body was within reach of her touch if she just leaned forwards and reached out, looked Andara full in the eyes, only for her to realise just how great a mistake this had been as she felt her will melt away almost literally like the stub of a candle on contact. "That one raised you from thirteen? She did? Sweet Artemis, that must have been an education that you'll never forget" said Isoria, softly, trying to resist the temptation to reach out and brush some loose strands of hair from Andara's face and not really succeeding as her hand twitched. "You have no idea, but I'll say this. I can smell anyones scent individually and follow it anywhere, I can tell if the owner is a man or a woman, I can pick out a single heartbeat in a crowded room and tell if its male or female. I have Hawks eyes, I could look out across Greece from a hill above Pella and see Athens clear, I can taste a poison disguised in any food or drink by the slightest difference in flavour even if I haven't eaten or drunken any of the type in question before, I could tell you how recently a weapon had been used merely by touching it to my fingertips. I can use any weapon that exists and some that don't but I'm best with either blades or my bare hands, and, finally, I cannot be approached stealthily by anyone except perhaps Red herself even blindfolded, anyone within two bodylengths of me violates my peace of mind and alerts me to their presence immediately, even when I'm asleep. Impressed yet?" said Andara, smirking as Isoria's jaw dropped. "That sounds like Xena-did I say something wrong?" asked Isoria, as Andara's smirk abruptly disappeared. Andara's smile reappeared, although not as full as it had been. "No, no, just bad memories, but the past is the past. Lets move onto a more intriguing topic, though, just why did you leave your Sisters and come to find me all alone out here?" asked Andara, her eyes sparkling. Isoria, who had just about managed to stop trembling by this point, abruptly found that she no longer had any control over herself as her aroused body overruled her mind and began to lean forwards, certain parts of her becoming increasingly obvious. "Well..." Isoria began, but stuttered into silence when Andara leant forwards as well, so close that their faces were only a breath away. "I see" said Andara, softly, her voice husky, her breath warm on Isoria's burning skin, then she shifted her head forwards slightly and gently kissed Isoria full on the lips. At first, Isoria wanted to break free and run away, but a hand that came to rest on her left shoulder somehow made her stay despite its total lack of force. Then she found that she no longer had any wish to leave, as her lips parted and Andara expertly demonstrated just what she had been talking about earlier... When Isoria came back to herself, the taste of the sweetest nectar know to man or woman on her lips and in her mouth despite the fact that it had been nothing more than a kiss, Andara was holding her in her arms tightly. Once sure that the young Amazon was all right, Andara released her and smiled. "First time at that too, hmm? No matter, we'll just have to take this slowly, as slowly as we need to. After all, we've got all night" said Andara softly, even as her left hand slid down over Isoria's cheek, throat and shoulder before moving inwards towards the centre of her chest and proceeding downwards. Despite everything, despite her duty and everything that her mind kept telling her, Isoria didn't even attempt to disagree for several very long, almost indescribably pleasant candlemarks after that...

Continued in Part 5.