With a jolt I sat upright, straining my ears against the silence of night. Without a moon in the sky, we were bathed in inky blackness. There was no wind, so the leaves and grasses nearest our campsite were still and silent. I heard the occasional cricket but that was all.
“What is it?” Xena asked, woken no doubt by my sudden movement.
“I guess, nothing,” I replied, unsure of what woke me. “Maybe I’m just reeling from the peace and quiet given the absence of four cutthroats trying to kill each other.” I could feel Xena smirk as she moved next to me, resettling herself in a comfortable position, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. Our fire had died some time ago the ember’s glow faint and fleeting.
“I can only imagine what’s going on at Darnelle and Glaphyra’s campsite wherever they are.”
“Oh, I have a feeling I know what’s going on at that campsite,” Xena replied dryly near my ear.
“Yes…well…Glyphyra was a lover, of yours? I mean, wasn’t she?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral. I could feel Xena shrug noncommittally from behind and I felt the need to clarify my question. “I’m not judging Xena, I’m just curious. I know you’ve been around the town-square a few times.”
“Hey now!” Xena shot back in mock offense with a squeeze. “Yes, I had a handful of encounters with Glyphyra and I think one or two with Darnelle if I remember correctly, but I think I was fairly drunk at the time.”
“Not Walsim or Monlik?” I asked, feigning shock and surprise. “At least you showed some discretion even in your dark warlord days.”
“I don’t really think I have anything to be proud of from those days,” my warrior replied morosely. I felt bad; I hadn’t intended the conversation to churn up dark thoughts.
Turning around in her arms I gently reached out to touch her face. “Glyphyra?” I asked. It didn’t take an oracle to see where her guilty conscience had taken her. “I know you said she was innocent when you met her, like me.”
“I wouldn’t say she was ‘like you’ Gabrielle. You are one of a kind. But yes, she was less worldly, looking to leave her small village and family because she felt they were stifling her dreams and ambitions.” Inwardly I winced at the similarities as Xena continued, “I had a very small fighting force then, it was nimble, quick. We were gaining capital by stealing from slavers and…”
“Yes,” I said, not making her say it. I knew she’d taken the slaves and sold them herself which was no doubt how Glyphyra had learned the trade. Since we were both wide awake, I put several small sticks on the embers. I added a little dry grass before blowing air over the coals and the sticks caught fire immediately.
“In less than a year she had been completely corrupted by me and the life I was living.” Xena continued with a frown as she gazed into the flames no doubt trying to calculate how many people in total that had been turned to darkness by who she was back then.
Seeing her ashamed and regretful made me feel guilty as well. More than once I’d fantasized about warlord Xena. I’d imagined what it might be like to be swept off my feet and mastered by the powerful Destroyer of Nations. Even before we were lovers, I’d entertained thoughts of being ravaged by an untamed, unreformed Warrior Princess; tied up and teased, conquering her warlord ways with the depth of my love and devotion. But this Xena, the one I’d made up from vapid romance was far removed from the woman I’ve played the occasional bondage game with in the dead of night, in a secluded hut at the Amazon village.
The games Xena and I have played with each other, shackling one another to the bed, or engaging in some teasing or spanking, while at times rough, was borne from a deep level of love and trust. We’ve seen each other at our best and our worst. I don’t think there is anything Xena could do now to surprise me and that kind of devotion was woefully missing during her warlord days. She would not have been capable of it, nor would I suspect her partners back then. Xena would have had no desire to surprise a love or keep things fresh and exciting in the bedroom. Her trysts were transactional; it was about getting what she needed and wanted, not about giving of her heart, of her soul. The Destroyer of Nations would not have been interested in someone like me discovering her own power. Tying up her love; made wet with desire by the creak and strain of leather or rope, watching her lover submit and wontly give in to their heart’s desire. That Xena would never have let me master her. No, now it became quite clear to me that the Xena of old was not someone I’d want in my bed. I don’t think my love or innocence would have been enough to tame her. The love I’ve found had far surpassed any juvenile fantasy.
“How did you go about finding…people?” I asked, in part to distract myself from the guilty path my own thoughts had taken. The time in her life I’d fantasized about for her had been dark and gut wrenching. My idle fantasy did not do her reality justice and I expect more from myself.
When she didn’t answer I tried again. “In the beginning, before you were famous?” She rolled her eyes, ever uncomfortable with her status, although I’m sure she considered it infamous as opposed to famous. With a shrug she finally answered.
“Manipulation, pure and simple. People are driven by their desires. With some they want to leave the life they are living for something they think is better, with others they seek the security in numbers and not be on the business end of a sword. Some are running from their own misdeeds; some want power, others wealth, a few are even looking for…”
“Love?” I supplied.
She shook her head sadly. “Those are the easiest people to manipulate.”
“And back then, it didn’t bother you?” I asked gently.
“When my own moral compass was woefully absent? No, it didn’t. With all the betrayal I’d endured, I figured if I didn’t use people, someone else would. Or that they’d use me, so I might as well do it first.”
I snuggled close and leaned into her shoulder to distract her from dark memories before responding. “I have this theory that The Fates have us walk the path that we need to walk. Sometimes the choices we make have us take longer to get to our destination, but we always end up where we need to go. On occasion we may need to live the same day over and over to do it.”
~~~~~~
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. The memory still fresh of the town we’d just been in where we needed to lift the curse of repetition. Frustrating as Joxer could be, it was nice being able to kill him with no lasting consequences. I watched the fire a few moments more before broaching a subject that had been nagging at me.
“Gabrielle,” I began quietly. “I worry that the more you know of me and the life I lived…well I worry that you will tire of the darkness.”
Gabrielle didn’t answer right away, which surprised me. She was considering what to say which I didn’t take to be a good sign. No less than I deserved, I suppose.
“Xena,” she finally said, “When I hear about who you were and what you’ve done- I won’t lie, it makes me sad. But it makes me sad for you – for the guilt you have to live with and the darkness you’ve had to endure that led you to the path you’ve walked and the choices you’ve made. But the point is, that darkness is in your past. If the darkness were in your present – no I don’t think I would choose to be with Warlord Xena, but I don’t know. I just know that… well…I choose you.”
She squeezed my middle before joking, “Please, just don’t go dark on me”
I didn’t laugh. We were silent a moment; I didn’t know what to say. She continued, dispensing with any pretense at levity.
“I know it’s there, just below the surface. I know that it takes a considerable amount of energy for you to keep your reactions in check when you’re angry. But I also know with each passing day, you are a step farther from who you were and a step closer to who you will become.”
“So, you think we never stop evolving?” I asked, hoping that she was right. “Who do you think you will become.”
After considering my question Gabrielle flashed that smile that was equal parts pride and embarrassment. “Well, if I’m going to keep hanging around with you, I’ll certainly become more of a warrior, maybe I’ll also become a famous bard or playwright. I can see it now, ‘tales of Xena the Warrior Princess’ performed from Athens to Alexandria.”
“You ever think of having children?” I was as surprised the question popped out of my mouth as Gabrielle was at the asking of it. I think she noted the confusion on my own face because she chuckled before answering.
“Given our current situation I think the prospect is unlikely.” She arched an eyebrow. “And you haven’t invited any kings of Ithaca to our bed this week, so... in all seriousness, I think our life at the moment would make child rearing difficult, but who knows if we settled down somewhere – in the future I mean.”
Idlily, I watched the flames and tried to picture Gabrielle and I raising children. Maybe we’d settle in Amphipolis and help my mother with the inn, or perhaps make our home with the Amazons. I could see Gabrielle holding a baby, providing the love and security a child would need for the best start in life. I also imagined all I had missed with Solan and getting another chance at that kind of happiness.
“Dinar for your thoughts?” my companion asked gently when I realized it’d been long minutes since either of us had spoken.
I couldn’t help but smile at Gabrielle. In her persistent yet unassuming way she had buttressed such a change in me. Such a simple thing like thinking about the future, and I no longer pictured blood baths and the stench of battle. I could see a type of domesticity that I would have found laughable in my previous life. Sure, I knew it was an unlikely flight of fancy, but even being able to fantasize about settling down somewhere in the future, alone with Gabrielle, just living our life together was a new experience. It was a kind of progress that made my heart swell with gratitude. I hope with all that I am that I never run out of ways to show her the depth of my devotion and the expanse of my heart. I loved her with a completeness that I could not recall feeling for any other being in my whole life. Sometimes it was hard to imagine the fullness, and treasure of the life I now lived when compared to all I had done. I was hardly worthy, but for Gabrielle I would never stop trying.
I looked down at her profile as she leaned into me as we watched the fire. The way her eyes reflected light and the softness of her hair on my shoulder, these were details that I treasured. I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I was just thinking that there are a lot of ways we can enjoy the solitude of only two of us at a campsite...”
Our campfire sparked merrily and with a bemused glance from Xena, my hand was stilled.
“You don’t think you’ve written enough for one day?” she spoke with a firmness that indicated she was just teasing. I had been reaching for a scroll to write down the events of the day as I often do in the evening. Lately, often as not, I wrote to try and make sense of all that had happened to me. Striving for some objectivity, it helped make the feelings and memories less immediate. But I could see her point and as eventful as it was, I could forgo a day.
“Hey!” Joxer interjected. “If Gabby wants to write stuff down you should let her!”
Xena’s eyes narrowed dangerously and I winced. I’ve always hated the nickname ‘Gabby’ and Xena knew it.
“Joxer,” I interjected trying to divert his attention from my lover. “Would you like some bread and cheese? I think the fish will be a few minutes yet until it’s done.”
We still had plenty of sea food left over from Xena’s battle with Thelonius’ army. Some of it was carefully drying out over a smoking fire for traveling rations, but that still left more than enough for the three of us to have a hearty feast around our campfire.
“Sure, that’d be great! Where are you two headed next?”
I passed him the food and handed him the wine skin, hoping a full belly and a drink or two would send him to sleep more quickly.
I glanced at Xena who made meaningful eye contact before I replied, “Oh, I don’t know,” I said with an automatic smile. “Which way are you headed?”
“Delphi, I think.” He grinned. “There is this festival at the foot of Mount Parnassus this time of year. You guys should totally come.”
“Yes, well…I’m not sure about that.” I tried to keep my tone neutral although I knew for certain that attending a fertility festival at the base of Mount Parnassus with Joxer was the very last thing Xena or I would be interested in.
“Or if you guys want me to travel with you…I could totally do that – you know – for protection.”
“Sorry, Joxer.” Xena grinned. “You are just going to have to protect yourself.”
“I meant to protect you two!” he complained and then started babbling at Xena about his warrior qualifications.
I gazed at the fire, not listening to their conversation and tried to put my thoughts in order. On the one hand, the day had been ridiculous, it had been frightening at times; the stakes high for the people in the valley. But it all worked out okay, and for once I wasn’t in any direct danger. I could more than deal with the barbarians, having fought them off single-handedly in the morning. It felt good to be my own protector for a change. The outrageousness of it all brought some welcome levity to our travels, having seen precious little of it these last months. With all I had been through with Meridian at the Temple of Dahak, Hope, the journey to Chin and the aftermath, there was something comforting about problems involving Aphrodite, Minya, Ares (not so much), although there had been that moment where we seemed to unite around our shared admiration for Xena; both of us deciding not to mention the favor I owed him for delivering me to Chin ahead my love.
I closed my eyes against the memory of that vile temple. As if I could somehow will myself not to think about it, not to dwell upon it. First, I try for a minute, then several, hoping to work up to hours or days. I haven’t managed that yet. That terrible experience in Dahak’s temple replays in my mind on a loop; my skin crawls at the memory of that fire. The violation of it, of desperately wanting it to stop and feeling the searing heat penetrate my body. Meridian’s blood on my hands and the fire changing me in ways I don’t think I’ll ever fully comprehend. Meridian, Dahak, Hope, and Chin, over and over the memories play out. I’ve lost something, something I will never get back and I ache for who I used to be. I ache to remember not knowing this darkness.
The last months have weighed heavily on Xena and I. Some days I hardly recognize myself and I wonder if this is how surreal it is to Ares when he sees Xena now. The God of War was always quick to say that he made Xena who she was but I do not think that was the whole of it. Xena is certainly fierce, strong, determined, cunning, and a master strategist –all of these things are firmly in the God of War’s domain. But she is also caring, tender, thoughtful, has a wonderful sense of humor – although at times a bit juvenile – none of that has anything to do with Ares. No, to me Xena is as much a creature of Aphrodite as she is of Ares.
I winced as soon as that thought crossed my mind. At least she had been; I used to see her that way. Now I was not so sure. Something about our recent travels had made me second guess Xena and as a result, I was second guessing myself. Even as I trust Xena with my life the awareness that I am trusting her less and less weighs on me. I wonder if Xena would lie to me or even if she might be playing me as she’d played so many innocent people in her warlord days. But I am hardly innocent. Not now, not anymore.
Maybe that’s it: My dark thoughts are coming from my own guilty conscience. I’ve killed someone. My soul is stained. Often now in my dreams, I see the dagger plunge into Meridian, her warm sticky blood seeping between my fingers, or the dreams will change into the agony of bringing Hope into this world, or the lie I harbor in telling Xena that I’d thrown Hope into an abyss. Meridian, Dahak, Hope, Chin; the dark cycle of thoughts persisting.
“Hey,” Xena said gently drawing me away from my gloomy thoughts. I glanced at her, guiltily I’m sure, and she smiled at me supportively. As she passed me a filet of swordfish, I noticed that Joxer was no longer sitting next to me.
“He’s getting some more fire wood,” she said, responding to my unasked question. “You looked a million miles away and I told him you were trying to decide how to put his heroic efforts today in prose.” After a moment’s silence she added, “You want to talk about it?”
As if on cue, a loud snapping of twigs announced Joxer’s return.
~~~~~~
“Here you go!” I said, dropping the pile of expertly gathered firewood next to Xena. She smiled at me but it looked fake and for the millionth time I wondered why she found me so threatening.
“Have some fish, Joxer,” she said as I took a seat next to Gabrielle.
“Trying to put my heroic deeds into words giving you trouble, huh? I asked, impressed in spite of myself that the fish was so tasty. Xena didn’t look like someone who could cook, but the proof was in the pudding. There was something in Gabby’s expression that was sad, haunted even, and I knew it had to be loneliness. I knew what that was like.
“You know what’s weird? Around you guys it’s like never a dull moment. Ares, Aphrodite, Callisto – you guys are always running into the most interesting situations. I’m glad I was on hand to help you out.”
“I’ll be happy for a few days of boring,” Gabby commented dryly.
She sure is pretty. It’s hard to sit next to her at the fire and not think about the three naked Gabrielles I’d watched dance earlier in the day. I mean, I knew she was beautiful, but she was beautiful everywhere. I especially liked how her pert breasts bounced slightly as she danced. More than anything I’d like to spend time with one Gabrielle, naked or not. I could feel a stirring in my loins and decided that I needed to think about something else or deal with certain embarrassment.
“You know what I can’t figure out? Ares always acts like he has no idea who I am. You’d think he’d want to try and recruit me or something.”
“Ares always did have standards,” Xena muttered passive aggressively under her breath. I frowned. It was that ‘awoke with a jerk stuff’ all over again. I just didn’t understand why Xena was so jealous of me. There were plenty of men interested in her. She could even have Ares if she wanted. Why was she so annoyed when one truly worthy man noticed Gabrielle? And there was no question as to whether I was Gabby’s type or not. Perdicus had been a warrior. Warriors are her type; of this I am certain. I just need to be more persistent and not take ‘no’ for an answer. We would be so good together. It would be nice if Xena went on a nice long trip without Gabrielle. Something more than an afternoon’s fishing.
“You should count yourself lucky that Ares hasn’t noticed you,” Gabby said seriously. I saw Xena shoot her a wounded look but she continued. “His attention isn’t something you want to mess with, Joxer. You’re better off having Aphrodite notice you than Ares.”
“I don’t think she was much help,” I replied, annoyed that the so-called Goddess of Love hadn’t given me any helpful advice. Sure, she was pretty, but not as pretty as Gabby. And the necklace had hardly impressed Gabrielle.
“Help with what?” Gabby asked innocently enough. Then she proceeded to pound on my back as I choked.
“Nothing,” I gasped, desperate to change the subject. “Why did Aphrodite enchant your scroll in the first place?” I asked. The last thing I wanted was her to know I’d sought advice from the bimbo in the negligee and that it hadn’t even worked.
~~~~~~
I materialized next to Gabrielle moments before my half-brother showed up between me and Xena. “Have I missed anything?” He asked with a smirk.
“I think that some vandals trashed one of Aphrodite’s temples with Xena graffiti,” Gabrielle replied with what I found to be an appropriate expression of regret. “Ares blamed it on me and she vented.”
“Must be that time of the month,” the dim-wit opined, only to be met with a chorus of “Not funny, Joxer!” by both Xena and Gabrielle.
“The bard seems to have your back,” Ares observed appreciatively, with a nod to the woman at my side. I turned my head to look at Gabrielle; it seemed like I was always seeing her for the first time. She was changing so much so fast. I ached for her. She was beautiful; a quiet symmetry of presence and longing. Although now there was also a deep sadness and sense of regret. The firelight reflected off her green eyes and it was easy to see why Xena was smitten from the beginning. But life with Xena was taking a toll. She was growing, but growing is often accompanied by pain.
“She’s been through a lot,” I observed letting in some of her discord and soothing it. “They both have.” I ached for her. I ached for them both.
Ares chuckled in his customary way, void of any humor or empathy. “That’s nothing. Wait until Gabrielle finds out that Xena killed Ming Tien or when Xena finds out that Gabrielle didn’t kill Hope. It’s going to be fantastic.”
“You are such a dick,” I didn’t bother to conceal my annoyance.
“No one should be defacing anyone’s temples,” Xena said and it was hard to stay angry at her. It’s not like she was the one with the paint brush.
“And certainly not Aphrodite’s,” Gabrielle agreed. I couldn’t help but find her irritation on my behalf disarming. “If anything, the followers of Ares are the ones that should be defacing his temples. He’s the one who couldn’t keep Xena from walking away. I’ll bet you a dinar that Ares put his goons up to the vandalism at Aphrodite’s temple.”
My eyes narrowed and I looked over at my half-brother, who didn’t even bother to look guilty. Instead, he rolled his eyes dismissively. “What of it, Air? Why are you so desperate to get Gabrielle out of Xena’s life?” I demanded.
He replied with a shrug. “The irritating blond is no good for Xena. Her brand of puppy love is leading my warrior down all the wrong paths. Xena might enjoy her plaything – I mean after the eyeful we got today who wouldn’t – but she won’t do well if domesticated for very long.”
I laughed, grateful the three mortals could neither see nor hear us because I snorted in a most undignified manner.
“Oh dude, that’s rich.” He frowned, having no idea what I was talking about. “You are so clueless. You think Xena is in charge in the bedroom?”
“Of course, she is. She’s a warrior.”
I giggled again. “Air, you know how you get called to witness really legendary battles because they are so epic?” He nodded. “Well, my job is the same, and I’ve seen enough sexcapades to know that when the sun goes down, it is Gabrielle who puts on the leathers, as it were. Not that she doesn’t want Xena to take charge from time-to-time mind you. I think I’ll call it topping from the bottom.” At first, he looked offended and just to needle him, added, “Warrior in the streets, kitten in the sheets.”
He stood up in outrage and glared at Xena. “What in Tartarus does this bard have on her?”
“Dude, I’ve tried to tell you for years, love is the strongest power on earth and none of you believe me.”
I shrugged. Ares wasn’t the only Olympian to look down on me and my domain. Poseidon, Apollo, Athena, even Hades, none of my family had the slightest clue that I was more powerful than any of them. I suppose I didn’t blame them. War was flashy, much more so than the quiet determination of families to go on in spite of the horrors that war wrought. That is my doing, and it is always overlooked. I knew the depth of the love that the two of these women felt for each other. Ares might test them, but I had their back and I knew that ultimately, they would have each other’s back.
In spite of my annoyance earlier in the day at having my temple trashed, I was also proud of my girls. Being a fan of epic sex is one thing (and they had that covered), but they had also woven their hearts and souls together in a way that was truly beautiful. Like threads of different dyes, they were muting and picking up hues from each other. Each moving further and further from who they were when they met. In the warrior’s case it was a lifeline, her darkness bathing in Gabrielle’s light. But in the bard’s case, she was walking a dagger’s edge. Her innocence now lost, she was confronting life’s darkness and running the risk of losing herself completely.
“Why don’t you just pick another warrior, like someone who is interested in you maybe? If Callisto weren’t stuck in lava, I’d have you go court her.”
Ares shook his head sadly. “Callisto is a failed experiment. I thought the childhood abuse would make her a more decisive killer, but she couldn’t keep a cool head. Xena is the whole package. She’s endured abuse after Cortese’s assault on Amphipolis to make her a killer, but she doesn’t let it control her. She wields her rage like a weapon. I dunno, maybe Callisto was just too young when it all went down.” He shrugged; the suffering endured by a little girl from Cirra meaningless to him.
“Used to,” I reminded him. “Used to wield her rage like a weapon. Xena may still rack up a body count but she has a purpose now that isn’t blind ambition. She is fighting for good and to balance the scales.” I could feel his rage at his impotence where Xena was concerned. It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.
~~~~~
My eyes shot from Xena to my half-sister as I fumed. The only thing worse than Aphrodite ever being right was Aphrodite being right about a warrior, someone I was supposed to have dominion over.
“Whoever defaced the temple, whether it was on Ares orders or not – let’s hope no one pokes at any gods on our behalf for a long while,” Xena spoke as she turned the seabass grilling over the camp fire, her face still aglow from the pleasure she’d enjoyed while fishing. “This fish is just about ready to serve.”
“What did you use for bait?” the insipid Joxer asked after another pull from the wine skin.
“Who said anything about bait?” replied my warrior, chuckling.
“This wine is pretty good,” the dimwit blathered on, which was painful to listen to. Peasants parading around as warriors gave warriors diminished standing.
“You sure you guys don’t want to go to Mount Parnassus? They have some great vineyards there.” Joxer yawned once and slumped over fast asleep. I rolled my eyes, startled that Gabrielle did the exact same thing. Apparently, the weirdness didn’t stop after the little bonding we’d shared over Xena this afternoon.
“Finally!” she whispered as Xena cocked her head, trying to sense me. “What is it?”
“I almost thought I sensed…” she said, softly.
“What,” the brat asked, “Ares? Is he here?” While anxious in tone, she kept her voice down for fear of waking the pile of snoring scrap armor.
“I thought so.” Xena shook her head. “No, probably not. I think it’s just a lingering something. That was good thinking about the wine.”
“I was hoping he’d escort Minya back to Hower or something.”
“Gabrielle, he’s in love with you, surely you can see that?” My half-sister nodded in agreement but there was more bite to Xena’s tone than she had intended. I saw an opening.
“Hey sis,” I said, knowing exactly how to annoy the Goddess of Love, “How come Xena and Gabrielle never say ‘I love you’ to each other if this union is so epic?”
She brushed aside my question dismissively. “Classic story telling, bro – show don’t say.” As she continued to extol all the ways large and small that Xena and Gabrielle demonstrated their deep and committed love for each other, I eased myself in at the corners of Xena’s mind. It was no secret to me that Aphrodite had been not only soothing pain and suffering of the bard, but had been trying to provide Xena some comfort as well. I dissipated that energy and instead brought forth instances and examples of Gabrielle’s deceit to the fore. Small things at first, like all the times Gabrielle had failed to stay in a tavern for safe-keeping. Then I brough in the larger deceptions, such as the betrayal in Chin, then finally the possibility that Gabrielle had not ended Hope after all.
I knew what was coming. I knew of the demon child sent down a river and growing at an inhuman pace. I knew of the power that was growing inside that monster, a power I wanted to harness for my own means. The terror that would be unleashed on the world would provide for a new epoch of history, a new world order, and I intended to be at the helm of it. There was no point in warning any of the other Olympians about what would come to pass. Like me, they would evolve or perish. I was going to evolve.
There were torrents of rage always lurking just below Xena’s consciousness, all the betrayals she’d suffered, the blood on her hands from all who had died by her sword or on her orders, the lies, the hate she’d built barricades around all that anger – anger of an energy she now tried to use for good. All it would take was a solid strike to make that all come tumbling down and I’d have my warrior on the warpath once again.
I must have become distracted because when I noticed that Aphrodite had stopped talking and looked at her, her eyes were cold; a calm, icy blue.
“What?” I asked innocently.
She smiled, but the expression didn’t extend to her eyes, which looked out of place on my sister’s beautiful face.
“I don’t know if I ever told you that one of my oracles met Gabrielle when she was a small child. Cute, fearless, a bundle of personality. Anyway, she runs up to my Oracle and returns a flower she’d dropped and, in that moment, I felt generous. I gave the Oracle a glimpse into Gabrielle’s future and gave her a refuge from the world, should she ever need it; it’s called Illusia.
“So?” I asked completely disinterested. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, whatever toxic shit you’re trying to cram into Xena’s head, stop it.” She looked from Xena to Gabrielle and briefly touched the bard’s forehead, then Xena’s. No matter, the pieces were in motion and there wasn’t anything my sister was going to do that would be able to stop the oncoming storm. I rolled my eyes and blinked out.
~~~~~
“I’m really sorry about all the fishing,” Gabrielle said quietly as she tidied up after our meal. “But I am grateful for all the fish.”
I smiled and stretched out on my bedroll across the fire from hers. Whenever Joxer traveled with us (which was, frankly, was too often for my taste), we always slept with our heads near each other like the point of a triangle, with Joxer at the base.
“I’m grateful that you sent me off on a journey for something that I really enjoyed. It was kind of nice spending some time knee deep in water, just kind of focused on a meditative task.”
“Kind of like a respite from all the drama we’ve been through?” Gabrielle asked, looking every bit as emotionally exhausted as I felt. I forced a smile. I needed to tell her about Ming Tien, maybe. Maybe I didn’t. I was still trying to decide if that detail was really necessary or not. Certainly, there were many details of my life before knowing Gabrielle that I protected her from. She knew the broad strokes of my story, to be sure, but there were specifics that we did not know about each other; that we did not need to know about each other.
I felt guilty at these thoughts. I well knew that Gabrielle didn’t have some sort of darkness lurking in her past that she was shielding me from. This was selfishness on my part, one-sided. I was the one with something to hide.
“I think the main thing is that is behind us,” I said instead with perhaps more certainty than I felt. “We can go through things and stay connected.”
Stretched out on her bedroll, with her weight supported on her elbow, Gabrielle nodded absently as she gazed into the fire, looking a million miles away. I felt helpless. I wanted to know what she was thinking, but not enough that I was willing to share my own secrets. I knew how it was to kill for the first time, but unlike my experience – where I’d taken a life for the first time in battle, where it was kill-or-be-killed – this had been an accident. Hades was bent on this one woman dying; my love had in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was hardly a clean kill, and everything that had transpired in that foul temple was toxic and murky.
I longed for the days not so long ago. Those memories seemed close enough to touch, the days before Hope and Chin. I longed for the nights when we’d pleasure each other until dawn, when we’d help a village and be rewarded by a barn to sleep in. Selfishly, I longed for a time when the death of Perdicus or Callisto was the most fraught issue we had to deal with. I miss that Gabrielle. I watched moments more as my bard gazed darkly into the fire. I wanted to take her away from that, from whatever unpleasant thing was occupying her mind, if only for a night. I bit my lip as an idea came to me. I gazed down past my feet where Joxer had slumped over on his own bedroll and was snoring soundly, empty wine skin still in his grasp.
“Hey,” I whispered, drawing Gabrielle’s attention. She looked at me, startled, she’d been so lost in thought. It had been too long since we’d felt physically connected and I suspected we both missed it. I rolled onto my back and snaked my hand under my sleeping fur, in case our unconscious companion woke up. “Tell me a story,” I whispered. I turned my head and could see Gabrielle’s face illuminated quite clearly in the fire light. She smirked and her green eyes danced with mischief.
“Oh, I see,” she said keeping her voice soft so it would travel no further than my ears alone. “You want one of those stories.”
“I do indeed,” I purred as I began to touch myself, just lightly of course, but enough movement that she got my meaning.
“Like a story about what I’d be doing to you if we were alone?” she asked with mock innocence. She repositioned her bag which she used as a pillow, making herself comfortable. I could see that she had no intention of touching herself, rather fully intending to enjoy the show. Besides, I knew quite well that Gabrielle had a much harder time keeping quiet about her climaxes than I did; this got me quite a few nods of approval at the Amazon village.
“I’d start off innocently enough,” she began, her voice a sultry whisper. She was game, and I smiled appreciatively. “I’d help you with your armor and maybe massage your neck. I would enjoy feeling your muscles relax under my touch. I like knowing that I can make your muscles relax or contract as I see fit. You’d lean back against me, hoping I’d move things farther, and you would remember all those times in the early days when you’d desperately wanted to touch me and have me touch you in return.”
Like being at the center of a spell being cast, my body responded to my lover’s voice. She painted images with words that I saw with crystal clarity in my mind. I could feel her breath against my neck and feel her fingertips on my skin. I felt my wetness grow beneath my moving fingertips as I massaged my center, avoiding penetration for now and only lightly brushing against my clitoris. There would be time for more later, and I hoped to be at this for a while.
“Once you leaned against me, I’d move one of my hands from your neck down your chest to cup your – ahem – ample breast. Your nipple would get hard between my fingers and I’d pinch it gently, the way you like, getting rougher in my touch as you’d begin to gasp and moan against me.”
I started to move rhythmically and watched Gabrielle watching me. Unconsciously, she licked her lower lip then gently bit it, wanting to keep herself from getting distracted from the story she was telling.
“Yes…” I husked, urging her to continue.
“You’d whisper in my ear that you were more than ready for me to touch you and I’d chuckle at that. I’d tell you that you hadn’t earned that yet and that you’d need to do something for me if you wanted release.”
“Yes,” I whispered again, enjoying the ride and the swirl of passion and focus that was enveloping me. Internally my body contracted and relaxed with each thrust as I enjoyed my bard’s story.
“I’d push you forward with enough force that you’d take me seriously and know it was in your best interest to comply. You’d lay down on your back, the way you are now; and I’d take off my clothes. I’d kneel above you, so I could look down and see your beautiful eyes, and I’d lower myself on to your mouth. You’d open your mouth and know exactly what to do.” She purred that last bit and I nearly came right then.
“I’d move my body back and forth, a little bit above you, lowering myself closer. You’d reach your hands up to touch my breasts and I’d reach an arm behind me to touch you. Distractedly of course you understand.” She chuckled, clearly delighted that my breathing was coming now in soft, ragged pants.
We heard Joxer snort and my hand froze. I was so close. Gabrielle looked over at him and gave me a wink; he was just shifting in his sleep, still unconscious. She didn’t say anything as I began again to work up the rhythm to cast myself into that sea of delight.
“You know why I’d be so distracted?” Gabrielle asked rhetorically knowing that at this point I did not have the capacity to answer her. “Because I’d be so focused on how amazing you make me feel. How you make my breathing ragged. How you move your tongue up and down my cleft and occasionally sucking on me or grazing across me with your teeth. Sometimes you hurt me Xena,” she husked, “in the best possible way.” She smirked again and knew I was at the brink. “Xena when you make me come, it’s like my whole world shrinks down to just the two of us in that moment. When I feel my orgasm flooding out of me and almost worry that I’m going to drown you, but you delight in that. You delight in the power you have over me and take equal delight in the power I have over you. You know that there has never been anyone else in your life who has the power to make you come when she says so – like now!”
That was all it took. I felt the surge of energy radiate from between my legs and the powerful pull of contractions as my body clamped down on my fingers. I opened my mouth silently letting out a silent scream of release then took several measured breaths to let my heart rate slow. Gabrielle glanced once again at Joxer who had not paused in his snoring, then returned to gaze at me, her expression equal parts pride and devotion.
“Maybe I should send you fishing more often” she whispered, and blew me a kiss before settling down for sleep.
I walked away from the pyre and from my son with no ambition other than to get away; from Gabrielle, Callisto, the Centaur Village, and my pain. But there is no getting away from this agony. My only chance to leave this world; the better part of me remaining having been stripped away. Solan was the best parts of Borias and myself; growing up with love, surrounded by honor, and educated with empathy. He was going to be the living embodiment of what I might have become had Cortes not set his sights on Amphipolis. He’d become a man, marry and raise children of his own, and know just how much love could fill a heart.
I saddled Argo with no idea of where I was headed. All I knew was that I was leaving. I was leaving Gabrielle, my life, and whatever misplaced sense of duty I had ascribed to. Callisto was stopped for now, buried in a cave until the next evil horror freed her, but that was not my concern. Not anymore. Let Hercules or someone else save the day. Argo and I sped away from the village until I felt her breathing labored and we slowed to a gait she found comfortable. Even in my agony, we were still a team and her wellbeing paramount.
Idly I tried to parse out who in that moment I despised more, Callisto or Gabrielle. The fact that I was even thinking such things, and could not decide between the two saddened me beyond measure. First, I considered Callisto, a monster of my making. She was the living, breathing embodiment of my misdeeds and the life I had once lived. I’d tried to settle my score with her time and again. I thought I’d let my guilt concerning her go. I had inhabited her body; I’d seen her naked soul as she mine. I have seen with my own soul the abuse she’d suffered from childhood at the hands of the cutthroats that had descended upon Cirra like locusts after my army moved on. She’d known trauma few could ever fathom but still, it was incumbent upon each of us to make the cycle of violence and retribution stop. Gabrielle had told me that once. I’d faced horrors of my own, yet I felt the duty not to revisit those horrors on the innocent. That was my bard’s fear. It was she who demanded that if anything happen to her that I not go back to my old ways. Gabrielle. She never said what should happen if she did anything to me.
Gabrielle had lied to me, but even as I thought it, I was angry with myself. I was lying to her after all. Still, her lie about killing Hope had resulted in the death of my son, whereas my lie about not killing Ming Tien would not cause additional carnage. He was dead and gone, there would be nothing more of it.
I stopped to survey my surroundings and let Argo drink from a stream. I was heading towards the mountains. That was fine. It was doubtful that I would encounter a single soul this time of year on my way to the farthest village at the mountain’s base.
I asked myself if I were as responsible for who Gabrielle was today as I was for Callisto. I met Gabrielle as a woman. She was a grown adult even if she still lived at home. Innocent of some of life’s experience surely, but her foundation of right and wrong, honor and truth were already very much a part of her. I cast back through my memories of all we had encountered together until now; our reliance on each other, the way she lightened the load of my own guilty conscience and need of redemption. But then I thought of Solan, now and it all seemed like a lie.
My eyes burned with tears anew as I recalled the scent of his hair and gentle timbre of his voice and how these things would fade from my memory. Had I been hasty in leaving Callisto in that cave alone? Should I have taken the easy way out and simply perished, my rotting corpse kept company by a god who could not know death? No. It was my duty to live if only to keep Solan’s memory alive for when I perished, he would truly be gone from this world and that I could not bear. I would be caretaker of the memory of my boy and his kind, gentle soul. I would live until the end of my days keeping his memory alive, even if it meant spending every one of those days hating Gabrielle.
Because honestly, I did. She and Callisto were architects of my anguish in equal measure. Callisto, well she was just acting with the same evil consistency she always did. Like the scorpion and the frog. I sired her nature and making the choice to become her demons instead of battle them, she had stepped not one inch out of character.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. The defeated tone when she said to me “Hurts doesn’t it, losing your family? It rips out your heart, guts and feelings. All that’s left is the pain. Welcome to the club. You want to kill me; wish you could.” The lack of defiance, that was new. My abject agony, the depth of my bereavement wasn’t all she’d hoped it would be. That was small comfort. Even knowing she might spend the rest of eternity impotent in her despair was of little consequence.
The hours dragged on as Argo and I rode, the miles disappearing under our feet. My companion was strong, rugged and had the endurance to keep moving in the vain attempt to put distance from me and what was certainly by now the ashes of my only child. My son. My beautiful, beautiful boy.
Like a horrific parade, all the instances came to mind of times I’d requested Gabrielle do something and she hadn’t. How had I been so foolish to think that she had indeed killed that monster when half the time she wouldn’t stay in a tavern for her own safety. I should have verified; I should have checked. The last thing on earth I should have done was trust Gabrielle. Was it her narcissism? Her ignorance of the world? The sheltered upbringing she’d had, where mistakes result in a stern lecture, not death? Why did she time and time again think she knew better than I? How many times had I been betrayed in the past by someone I loved and trusted? Why did I risk it again with the bard?
I dismounted Argo as I approached the small settlement at the base of the mountain to go the rest of the way on foot. A young man approached from the barn and held the door open so I could bring Argo inside. I untied a small pouch of coins from my waist. I did not have much, but the dinars inside would be more than this man could hope to see in a year.
“You are going to care for my horse,” I announced, handing him the money. “You are going to care for her as if she were the most precious creature in the world until I return, however long that is.”
“Yes mistress,” he breathed, eyes wide at the heft of the coin purse. “I will brush her down right now, give her fresh water several times a day with the very best food I can find. I’ll repair her tack and saddle.”
I nodded, understanding that while he was speaking out of fear, he also had a love of horses. I quickly scanned the other two mares in the barn. They were in healthy shape and the place was clean and met my approval. My eyes landed on a blue blanket, something he’d been preparing to cut down for one of the horses.
“And I need that blanket.”
“Yes, mistress.” He handed it to me without question, keeping his eyes downcast.
Maybe he knew who I was, maybe he just saw a heavily armed woman in a foul mood. I didn’t care which. But his affect was a reminder to the old days. When people fell over themselves to do my bidding. How many times had a slave spent hours washing blood out of my armor only to service me otherwise in the inky blackness of night?
I walked away from the barn and the village, to the base of the snowy mountain. The rocks were loose under the snow and shifted beneath my feet as I ascended. I used my core strength to keep my balance and climb quickly, as if I could out-distance my heart break. It didn’t matter; none of it mattered. I’d chosen the most difficult approach, one that had my limbs aching in no time. It was fine by me if my body hurt as badly as my soul. At least I knew there would be recovery from physical pain.
It began to snow anew, and I wrapped the blanket around me as I ascended. Days and nights had passed and I took little notice. It was night again. I’d not eaten, only had some water from my water skin, which to my palate tasted like ash. I could not envision a world where I would ever enjoy anything again. Not food, not companionship, not a sunrise. It was night again and my ascent only illuminated by the glow of the moon. While the moon itself was a scant crescent, the thin clouds provided for the snow refraction of the light. It was all shades of blue, cold empty blue.
I would climb until I could climb no more and sing out my agony. What might follow I could neither predict nor concern myself with. I felt nothing but emptiness, sadness, hate and regret. Life used to be much, much simpler; vengeance over anguish and hate over regret. For the first time since walking the gauntlet and leaving my old life, I felt disgust at what I had become, misery at the choices I’d made and regret at who I’d chosen to love and trust. As if answering an unspoken call, my skin crawled with a familiar awareness…Ares.
~~~~~~
Unable to sleep, I left the hut and returned to the funeral pyres which were mostly burned down. I could not bear to look at what remained of Hope’s pyre, choosing instead to stand before Solan’s. The boy I had killed as surely as if I’d snuffed the life out of him myself. My body count had just doubled in the span of months. What had I become?
Xena was gone, and I had no doubt that I would never see her again. The look of abject hatred in her eyes as I’d told her that I loved her. Would I ever forget the harsh emptiness of that look? I said I loved her. Something I felt in every waking moment, yet rarely said, but there was no quarter for me in those icy blue eyes. She was done. I could not blame her. There was no way she could hate me more than I hated myself. It was my own weakness that brought me here. Weakness to not do the things that mattered, and to think there would be no consequence. I’d stained my soul by killing Meridian, and stained it again by not killing Hope, only to stain it a third time by killing my daughter. I’d taken it all in, the look of dawning awareness after she’d taken a drink from the water skin, the pleading, the betrayal, the abject fear and tears as her life wound down.
Feeling more alone than I’d ever felt in my entire life, I glanced to my left, at the village where people slept soundly, saddened by the events of the last days but not destroyed by it. Their family was intact, mine was in tatters. To the right of me, some distance away, was the network of caves now the sealed tomb of what had been until today my worst nightmare, now a goddess. Had Xena been right? Had Hope freed Callisto? Had the monster who haunted my dreams been taking orders from my daughter?
Even saying the word “daughter” in my mind churned up such conflict in me. Misplaced as it was, I loved my child. She had taken life and grown inside of me, nurtured by my blood, birthed by my agony. Her flesh was a part of me and as such, something deep within my core felt duty bound to protect her. I could no more kill and external part of myself than Xena would have been able to kill Solan as a tiny baby. Even so, Solon had been no monster – conceived by a night of passion, if not profound love. Hope was a product of violation. Raped by an evil entity, its vile presence crashing through the recesses of my mind, body, and soul, and rending my sense of self in two. I felt ashamed, disgusted, disgraced – like a monster every bit as hateful and worthy of scorn as Callisto. I’d been defiled, and I felt it to my very essence. I was no longer worthy of any good thing. Not the love of Xena, nor of my child. How dare I even show my face? How dare I think I could move forward with my life?
I fumed in impotent anguish, forcing my eyes shut and shaking my head, as if it were all some miserable nightmare. I opened my eyes and watched the glow of the embers from Solan’s pyre shift and move with the lightest breeze. I should have killed myself. I should have drunk the last dregs of the poison Hope consumed and been done with it. What did it matter? I’d never felt so alone.
In a moment of self-pity, I tried to tell myself that this wasn’t all my fault, even as I knew better. Xena rarely allowed for my input, she refused to believe me about Hope as a baby, refused to even listen to me. If she treated me more as an equal, surely I’d have told her the truth about not killing her!
Bitterly, I laughed at myself. Xena had been right. Right about all of it. She’d never been anything but honest with me, and I’d lied to her. I’d failed her, I ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me and because of my choices, I’d lost it all.
Unbidden, my mind cast back to that fateful day over three years ago. Rounded up with other people from Potidaea to be sold as slaves, I had no idea how much my life would change that day. In quick succession, the images flashed through my mind the moments with Xena, the brushes with death, bad guys, or both. The smiles, innocent touches (and not-so innocent ones), the conversations, the laughter, the tears. So fast had this woman become my whole world, at once shielding me from danger and simultaneously supporting me to face dangers on my own I’d have failed in the face of before I met her. All of that was gone now, and who was I?
I thought about that girl from Potidaea, the one who didn’t fit in. Betrothed to Perdicus, but feeling no romantic pull to him, or any of the other men in the village. The little girl obsessed with stories and story-telling, watching with reverence the performances of traveling bards. Where had that girl gone now? She’d taken the life of an innocent; she’d killed a killer she’d wounded many – never mind that they were trying to kill me. I could track, I could hunt, I was an Amazon Queen. Was I also just another of Xena’s conquests? An innocent she molded into a protegee and enjoyed the fruits of their sexual nature in the process? I would never know, she left me.
A shooting star caught my eye and I looked at the sky, millions of twinkling stars sparkling in shades of yellow and orange. If I was going to kill myself, it was not going to be tonight. I had no more poison and I was exhausted. I would go to the last remnant of a home I had left, the Amazon village. I’d seek counsel from Ephany. Surely, I was not the first Amazon who had lost absolutely everything. Perhaps there was a ritual, or a method to rebuild a life destroyed, or not. I need not tell her of my plan. It would be easy enough to pick up more poison on my way, to keep in my bag should I decide it would be the best course of action. Before leaving the warmth of the fire, I gazed skyward one more time, noting the tiny sliver of moon. The same moon that Xena would see were she to cast her gaze upward. I sent out a thought to her with no idea where she was or what she was doing. It was the only thing left to connect us and it would never be enough to fill the void that was me.
We were completely exhausted and spent by the time we reached Thessaly. Worried that the Persian soldiers might rediscover their thirst for battle, we spent as little time at the outpost near Tripolis as possible. Once Xena recovered the smallest bit of strength, she had me bundled in furs and riding on Argo, who returned at first whistle. Physically I felt wretched, the poison having wrecked as much havoc on my insides as the arrow did to my shoulder. Oddly enough though, I was calm. There is a steadfastness that comes from accepting one’s own death while standing at that precipice that puts all else in better perspective. In an odd way, the delirium brought about by the poison gave me some clarity as I tried to process all that had happened to us in Illusia.
When we got to town, Xena looked through Argo’s saddlebags and came up with three dinars. Not enough for a room, but enough for some broth and bread perhaps. She looked genuinely concerned. I looked towards sky, angry with black clouds swirling not far in the distance. It would rain soon and my lover was worried. Maybe it was my perspective astride her horse, or maybe it was just the worry that she felt for me. But in that moment, there was nothing about Xena: Warrior Princess that looked intimidating. She looked like a very beautiful woman; tired, wounded, and frightened of what my sleeping a night in the rain might mean in my present weakened state.
“I’ve got this,” I assured her. “Let’s go to the inn, get some supper. I can take care of the rest.” Xena looked at me questioningly. “Please trust me.”
Without comment, she did as I’d asked. In companionable silence, we journeyed the rest of the way to town. She walked next to Argo, her back straight, fearing nothing from the world save for some rain perhaps, and her own guilty conscience.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked quietly as she helped me dismount her mare.
“Xena,” I replied, my voice surprisingly steady and strong, “you’ve taken care of me, now I am going to take care of you.”
She nodded and assisted me into the inn, where we took a table near the hearth of a great fire. The place was not terribly busy, a few men hunched over drinks, discussing the weather, the war with the Persians, or the condition of their olive orchards. A table or two had a man and a woman sharing a meal, and one table in the back had a man dressed in black leather steadily drinking alone. At the other end of our table was young man, swaying slightly, as if listening to music no one else could hear. His features looked…different. His face was round and his eyes large, oddly so. He seemed sturdy, stocky, but his bearing also seemed innocent. He had a bit of a smile that did not waver as he watched the fire. Without sacrificing efficiency, the woman serving food and drink seemed to keep a watchful eye on him. I guessed that he was a younger brother.
I sighed contentedly as I sat, the warmth from the fire delightful. Even just that, my body not having to work so hard to keep me warm, was restorative. I surveyed our surroundings and caught the attention of the bar maid I’d been watching. She looked puzzled by the sight of us and came over. I must still look a fright; my skin a sickly gray from the poison, Xena with dried blood in various places, both of us dirty and disheveled.
“What can I get you?” she asked in a rush. “I don’t want no trouble, and the two of you look like trouble.”
Xena was about to reply when my hand on her lap stilled her. “No trouble from us,” I assured the woman. She was probably a year or two my junior. Her demeanor expressed a certain vested interest; this was her establishment I expected, or perhaps that of her family. “I have a proposition for you,” I added.
Immediately, she looked wary and was about to leave when Xena’s hand on her forearm stopped her movement. “Here me out. We have money for a meal. We will start with that. But if I can keep everyone who is in here now, plus anyone else who enters from leaving – if you keep a steady clientele eating and drinking all evening, would that be worth a room to you? For us?” Her eyes darted from Xena to myself and back again.
I went on. “We’ve obviously had a rough few days, and just want a soft bed for one or two nights, then we will be moving on. I’m a bard,” I added when the woman still looked wary.
“She’s a good one,” Xena added with a nod.
“I like stories,” the young man at our table said cheerfully. “Please, Zoe?”
“Rastus, that is enough.” She said, her tone gentle, not stern. She looked us up and down. “I’ll get you some food,” she replied, taking the three dinars Xena had put on the table. “I’ll think about the rest while you eat. Fair enough?”
Xena looked displeased, but I smiled warmly at the woman. “That is fair.”
“And I have a horse – a mare – outside,” Xena added. Zoe frowned, then nodded to Rastus.
“One dinar for the horse, two for you. Rastus will see to her.” The boy nodded, got up, and headed for the door. He returned a couple of minutes later and resumed his seat at our table.
“Are you a really a bard?” He asked enthusiastically as he sat down. There was something about the way that he spoke that was unusual. As if he were deaf, yet he seemed to understand what we were saying quite plainly.
“She’s one of the best,” Xena responded proudly, her voice gentle as she talked to the boy. “She trained at the Academy in Athens. Was that your sister?” She asked, blue eyes traveling to the door to the kitchen where Zoe had disappeared.
“Yes,” Rastus said. “We came here… from Metropolis after our parents and older brother died. Zoe is very smart and worked here… until she could buy it. Good to have a roof over our heads.”
“Your sister must love you very much,” I said and he beamed with pride.
Zoe returned with some food and it was obvious that she was a kind woman, albeit one who tried to project a cold exterior. The food was much better than our two dinars would fetch; a rich stew and fresh baked bread to dip in it and beer for each of us. In addition, there was a hot bowl of water with a cloth and some bandages for Xena and a steaming mug of tea for me.
“If you’re going to talk later, you need that tea. And you,” she gestured to Xena, “might as well clean up some of those cuts while your friend is talking. I’ll put a plate on the bar. Anyone who leaves a dinar or two if they like your story I’ll put towards your room, but I won’t put you up for free. I’m not running a charity here.” she said, matter-of-factly.
“That is very kind of you,” I said, warming my hands against the side of the steaming mug. “Thank you.”
“My sister is nicer than she sounds,” Rastus commented as he passed Xena a small bowl of seasoned olive oil for the bread. “It was hard for a couple of years; she doesn’t trust easily. I…” he seemed to falter but continued on, “I…get picked on. I’m not like everyone else, not as clever.” His cadence was unusual but he spoke with sadness as well as resignation and acceptance.
“You seem clever enough to me,” I said which garnered a nod of agreement from Xena. “What kind of story do you think will go over well?”
“Yeah,” Xena agreed. “You know this crowd better than we do.”
He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating. “Not a war story. A lot of people here have been fighting, or lost someone in battle. Our parents and brother died when Callisto’s army sacked Metropolis. A lot of people have similar stories.”
At the mention of her dark protegee’s name Xena stiffened. That woman forever seemed to hover at the periphery of our lives.
We ate in silence, Xena lost in thought and me purposely saving my voice. When I finished my meal, I took a couple of moments to decide on my tale before speaking to Rastus in a slightly louder voice. I’d chosen to keep my tone conversational as opposed to an oratory performance, but I did want to signal that this conversation was not private and that others could listen in, before quieting my voice to keep their rapt attention.
“When I was younger,” I began, “I used to think that the most magical place in the world I could visit would be Mount Olympus. Of course, it’s something that a lot of us wonder about, what it might be like; the home of the gods. But mortal men and women simply can’t go there, so unless you know Hercules or have occasion to dine with Aphrodite sometime, you will probably never know. There is a place, however, that has a magic all its own, and it’s unlike any place you have ever been, and mortals are welcome there if the need arises.”
As soon as I began speaking Rastus was hooked. I suspected he would be an easy lister to enthrall.
“What is it called?” He asked without prompting. His enthusiasm made the couple sitting near him stop their conversation and listen. Two men at the bar also turned their heads to see what the boy was so enthusiastic about.
“It’s called Illusia,” I said and proceeded to describe a place so wonderous, had I not been there myself, I’d have insisted it only existed in the imagination. To be honest, I had intended to tell a battle story – they generally go over well in a place with festive drinkers, but Rastus’ comments had struck me. The people around me were tired of fighting. My warrior was exhausted physically and emotionally from battle. The people here had seen battle for themselves and did not need to be convinced of a glamor and spectacle they knew first hand did not exist. No, I wanted to give them the comfort of a tale where even the most deepest problems can be resolved for the better, without sword and shield. A place where our departed loved ones stay engaged in our lives to care for us deeply. A place where singing could do what arrows could not.
I took my time, wanting to remember this place for myself, as even now the details were fading like waking up from a dream. I described the fanciful wonderland with all of the facets I could recall. There were the saturated colors, hues so bright and pure you couldn’t fathom where they came from, and the perfume of the flowers so clean and fragrant. As I spoke, I wove a tale about two people, broken and damaged, coming home after a war. My story with Xena was mine alone and I did not want to share in this venue. While not the least bit embarrassed by it, I wanted more time to process and understand what had happened to us and discuss it with my love before sharing it with strangers. So instead, I wove a tale about two men who were as close as brothers who had grown up together and gone off to fight, only to realize they’d fought on opposites sides of the battle; what it was like for them to come home, put the pieces of their lives back together by letting go of the hatred instilled in them by competing armies, and to rediscover their boyhood closeness. I spoke of their mutual love of fishing; a couple of the men at the bar nodded in appreciation. Xena hummed strains of the various tunes we had sung when I spoke of the songs and fantastical way Illusia worked to uncover the problems beneath the problems.
Their meals finished, no one got up to leave, and two men were even quite sternly shushed when they entered looking for a drink and a meal. They sat down at a couple of vacant seats. Another man entered, then a woman with a companion.
I quieted my voice to barely a whisper when I spoke of how one of the men betrayed the other, only to find out that he was hiding something too. I spoke of the wasteland of echoes, the desolate expanse in shades of gray and brown, and how the maddening repetition of the lies someone tells themselves can make them crazy. I spent some time describing the trials the heroes would need to confront in order to leave the wonderland with their sanity. My eyes scanned the crowd; it was steadily increasing.
I knew the rain had begun because I could hear its staccato pattern outside and people were now shaking off their cloaks upon entering. Patrons sipped their drinks quietly, both interested and amused by the tale I told. Naturally, they thought it all fiction. Zoe brought me a fresh cup of tea which I sipped as I continued my narrative. In the periphery of my vision, I could see that Xena was cleaning the dirt from her face and several of the cuts on her arms and thighs. One gash was nasty enough, fresh blood still seeping slowly from the wound and I was sure she’d need to stitch it. Without a doubt, the prospect of a soft bed would be just as welcomed by my warrior as it would be by me.
I continued my story, telling the crowd how it was not until both men had come clean with the secrets that they held could they ever be freed from the confines of the mystical land. I finished strong, with each man confessing how he had failed the other.
“What happened to them?” One fellow asked from the bar, before Rastus got the chance.
“Well,” I said cheerfully, “they returned to the town of their childhood. One man took care of horses and married the daughter of a fisherman. The other man married the sister of the first fellow. Both became known far and wide as just, honorable men. They raised their families together and often helped to settle disputes between families in town. Folks would even travel great distances for their counsel.” I noticed several nods of approval from various patrons. It was a fantastic tale, told well, with a satisfying ending.
The hour had gotten late and some people started to leave, several of them stopping to deposit a dinar or two in the plate on the bar.
“Alright you lot,” Zoe said with firmness and affection. “It’s time for you to clear out. My brother and I need to close up for the night.” There were some grumbles of disagreement and one person asked for another story.
“Maybe tomorrow, if our Bard decides to reward you fools. Be generous with your dinars as you leave. Come on now, if you’re staying, head upstairs. If you were just here for supper you have your own beds waiting for you.”
“That was a really great story,” Rastus said, beaming with delight. “I hope you tell it tomorrow as well.”
“Well…if we’re staying…” I began.
“I want you to have my room,” he interjected, brokering no argument. “It’s larger and nicer than the rooms upstairs. Only my sister and I have rooms downstairs and I can sleep in her room tonight, she has space for a bedroll.”
“We wouldn’t want to put you out,” I protested.
“It is very generous of you,” Xena said as Zoe approached us. “But where we stay, if we stay at all, is up to your sister.”
“Offered you his room, did he?” Zoe said as she walked up. “My brother is kind to a fault, but given the dinars you earned tonight, you can have any room you want.” She put the plate down on our table. At least eighteen dinars glinting dully in the firelight. Xena took six dinars off of the plate and pushed the rest back to our host.
“You keep this.”
“That is too much,” Zoe protested, but her brother shook his head in disagreement.
“Don’t turn down a kindness,” he gently admonished her.
“As we will not either.” Xena smiled. “We’d be very grateful of the use of your room. Both of us are relieved not to have to climb stairs.”
~~~~~
I helped Gabrielle into the boy’s room and got her situated in bed before taking my leave. “Where are you going Xena?” she asked weakly – the mere fact that she was horizontal had her hovering just beyond sleep. It was a battle she would lose in minutes.
“I’m going to help Zoe cleanup for the night, and I promise I’ll come right back.” My bard nodded. I watched a few seconds more until I was certain she was asleep.
When I returned to the main hall, I grabbed a tray off the bar and proceeded to pick up the stray mugs and plates that had been left on the tables, something I’d done countless times at my mother’s inn.
“You don’t have to do that,” Zoe admonished as she came from the kitchen to take another tray. I arched an eyebrow at her and she chuckled. “Yes, I’m not one to turn down a kindness, I remember.” Nodding at the gash in my shoulder she asked, “Can we do some stitches for you?”
“I can do that!” Rastus said, as he emerged from what I assumed was Zoe’s bedroom. I could see that he’d set up a bedroll for himself on a straw mattress on the floor.
“Rastus is the better of us when it comes to small stitches sewn straight,” Zoe acknowledged with shrug.
I nodded. Certainly, I had nothing to lose by letting the young man do the stitches, my shoulder needed it and it’d be easier for him to reach than for me. “How long have you been traveling with your bard?” He asked conversationally, waving a needle through the flame of a candle.
“A few years.”
“She is special.” His tone was very matter-of-fact, as if stating the obvious.
“She is indeed,” I agreed.
“What is wrong with your friend?” Zoe asked, as she stacked plates onto a tray. “Sickness?”
I shook my head. “Poison. She’s had an antidote but it’s taking some time to work its way out of her system.”
“Do you know what kind? I’ve got teas and herbs that might help.”
“Slow moving. She was shot through the shoulder with an arrow. Persian cavalry team, from the fighting to the east.”
“I hope warning got to Athens?” Rastus asked. He finished up the stitching on my shoulder and moved to my thigh. I didn’t object. There was nothing in his manner suggestive of anything other than a desire to provide medical attention.
“I believe it did. We spoke to a fellow named Pheidippides who was on his way from Marathon. I believe he was doing it in one run.”
“Now that’s an impressive story!” Rastus said in awe.
“My brother knows a good story,” Zoe commented as he finished the last few stitches on my thigh, “Xena.”
I looked at her, surprised she knew who I was.
Rastus chuckled. “I’ve been hearing stories from traveling bards for over a year.”
“Since your friend is recovering from poison, you’d best stay put for a couple of days. I don’t mind you staying here. But if you could, it would be nice if you accompanied Rastus into town to pick up some supplies. And, if you let slip who you are…”
“Zoe!” Rastus protested with a frown.
“What?” she said with mock offense. “You know we’ll have a packed house tomorrow when word of Xena’s friend’s storytelling gets out. We will need supplies”
“It’s Gabrielle.” Both Rastus and I said in unison.
Rastus looked at me, sadness tugging at his features. “My sister thinks that people in town will be less apt to call me a dim-wit if I’m friends with Xena the Warrior Princess.” He turned to his sister. “I was going to go fishing in the morning, we can make fish stew.”
I smiled at the young man. “I see no reason we can’t do both Rastus. I’m not too bad at fishing. We’ll get some fish and then pick up the other things your sister needs, deal?”
He nodded. The prospect of a morning spent fishing made up for having an escort in town.
“I will look after your friend…Gabrielle,” Zoe assured me. “The tea will help the poison out of her system and I’ll see that she rests.”
I thanked them both then took my leave. With my wounds cleaned and dressed, and both my shoulder and thigh sporting new stitches, I gingerly made my way back to Rastus’ bedroom and Gabrielle. She stirred a bit as I got into bed and made herself comfortable, resting her head on my breast, my arm wrapped around her, the ache from the stitches instantly gone as I touched her. It felt good to be in a warm, soft bed. Really good.
“Do you think we can stay here for a hundred years or so?” She asked sleepily.
“You read my mind.”
“Sometimes I think I can.”
“Is that why you changed the story about Illusia? Left us out of it?” I could feel her nod. “See, sometimes I can read your mind too.”
“Is it all really behind us?” she whispered, as if afraid to give conflict a voice.
I thought about it for a minute or two before I answered. If that mystical place had any lasting resonance for me, it was to mean what I say and to say what I mean.
“I think I’ve learned now that relationships, the really important ones, are about the choices we make. I made a choice to hide something important from you and I was wrong and I know you feel the same. I am making the choice now that I will tell you things, even difficult things, moving forward.”
She nodded again. I continued, “I’ve made the choice to fight for us always. I love you with all my heart, Gabrielle. And truly, I forgive you and I forgive myself.” I could feel her snicker against my skin. “Well, I’m working on that last bit. You saved my life with your prophecy. You know that, right?”
“And you’ve saved mine time and again. Not to mention giving me a life in the first place. Until I started traveling with you, I had no idea who I was or what I could be. What my life could be. While it isn’t always the easiest life to live, I feel like it’s mine. It’s authentic.” As Gabrielle spoke, I could feel the current of her breath against my skin and it was completely comforting. We had a place to stay until we’d regained our strength. I had no illusions that the rocks would hold Callisto indefinitely, and bringing that monster here was the last thing I wanted to visit on a family that had been so kind to us.
“There is something different about Rastus,” Gabrielle commented after a moment’s silence. “Do you know what it is?”
I shook my head wondering myself. “I suspect something from birth. I don’t think it’s the result of an accident or injury. He’s a very kind young man.”
“You know how when a person loses their sight, they often get better hearing? Or when one ability is diminished, other abilities can manifest?”
“Yeah?” Gabrielle’s speech was taking on a dreamy quality of one who would be asleep soon.
“I think that whatever has befallen Rastus to make him different, has given him insight.”
“Like a seer?” I asked.
“Not exactly. But in talking to him, I just know that things like deception and artifice and completely foreign to him. If he ever gave you his word it would be as good as gold.” She shifted position and I knew before long she’d be softly breathing in slumber.
“Do you know this from having the gift of prophecy yourself?” I asked.
“No. I don’t know. Maybe? I just sometimes know things. I could count on one hand all the times in my life where I saw something that might be in the future. Most of the time it doesn’t make sense so I try not to think about it. Sometimes I see snowy hillsides, sometimes I see pouring rain in a forest. A couple of times I’ve seen this strange, huge white ship, it feels like I live there, which makes no sense.”
This time, it was me who chuckled. “You living on a ship. Now that is something I’d be amused to see.”
I waited quietly for a response but was met with soft snoring. I held her close and rested my cheek against her head. Holding Gabrielle like this, I felt complete. When we are connected, when we don’t have secrets. This was the feeling I would fight to keep for the rest of my days, be they few or many. With the feeling of separation from the other half of my soul still fresh in my memory, every day I would vow and work towards it never happening again.
“There, that’s better,” Xena said as she added several large pieces of driftwood to the fire. It didn’t take long for the fire to become substantial. Standing up, the flames were easily taller than me, the base of the fire wider than a man laying down. The wood in this area was plentiful, and we were grateful for the warmth it provided. Some might have been wary of creating large plumes of smoke that would identify one’s location, but not Xena. I knew with certainty that there wasn’t anyone in the vicinity of our fire who could get the best of the Warrior Princess.
After making our way further up from the surf, we’d found a clearing and Gabrielle immediately started a small fire, grooming it into a healthy blaze while her companion gathered the wood, making a stockpile that would last the night. I’d removed my shirt and vest, propping them up on branches a safe distance from the flames to dry. I was not happy at the chill night air but not as unhappy as I’d be, were I still wearing damp clothing. Everyone else however had opted for modesty, willing it seemed to dry out their clothes while wearing them.
In the case of Thadeus, Soraya and Petrodes, it wasn’t much of a choice. That trio laid near the fire, warmed by the heat, sleeping soundly from what had been an excruciating and exhausting journey. Thadeus and Petrodes seemed to have a change of heart towards each other, the elder, knowing that he would need assistance in getting his pregnant wife and himself safely to a town and the younger not wanting to travel alone. We were all relieved that Macon went off on his own, not spoiling our evening with his presence.
“I’m so done with sea travel,” Gabrielle groused which elicited a chuckle from Xena. “I could go the rest of my life and never set foot on another boat.”
“Hey, at least this adventure was started by a natural occurrence,” Xena countered. “No Poseidon anywhere, although Petrodes constant praying had me worried he might show up.”
“Yeah,” Gabrielle agreed. “Thanks for nothing, Mount Atena.”
I watched the two of them chat across the fire and again marveled at the unlikeliness of the situation. Sure, I knew what Xena and Gabrielle were to each other from the time I’d let Xena take over my body after she’d died. I came back to myself kissing Gabrielle, and the bard quite pointily telling me to take my hand off her butt, when in fact I’d not been the one to put it there. But I also had vivid recall of the Xena from long ago, when we’d met. Oh, I knew well enough back then to stay out of her way; she was dangerous, ruthless, and deadly.
We’d met when she found me slinking through the forest after an escape from the Eleutherae fortress in Attica. In exchange for my life, I supplied detailed maps of the fortress, which she captured in short order. Hermes must have smiled upon me that day because Xena found me amusing and let me live.
Our paths crossed a handful of times after that, but only in recent history would I venture to call her a friend. When I first encountered her with Gabrielle, I was torn as to who surprised me more. Xena’s obvious affection for the young bard, or the bard’s bravery to travel with someone like Xena. Yet, here they were, bickering like any married couple around a campfire after nearly drowning.
“Autolycus, are you warm enough?” Xena asked, catching my eye through the dancing flame.
“Well, I could do with a nice blanket or fur coat, but I’ll be fine,” I replied, grinning.
“I guess it’s lucky that all of our stuff is with Argo at the stables,” Gabrielle commented. “At least we didn’t lose anything in the wreck.”
I noticed that Xena glanced over at the sleeping trio to the side of our bonfire. “Stuff can always be replaced, Gabrielle,” she said with a warm smile.
“The plan is to make our way inland in the morning?” I asked. “We hadn’t traveled far when the wave hit, but once under water, I know we changed direction, but I’m not sure where we are.”
“We set sail at Hermione, and given how far we traveled I’d say that Hailesis is about a day’s journey that way – ” Xena pointed over her shoulder.
“How do you even know that?” Gabrielle asked, impressed.
Xena shrugged as if the information were universal. “I have many skills,” she said. “Remembering maps is one of them.”
Gabrielle turned to me. “Will you join us on the way to Hailesis?”
“I could use a hot meal and a soft bed.” Certainly, I had no other likely options until I found my bearings.
“Hailesis isn’t a large place,” Xena commented, a subtle tone of warning in her voice. “The people there don’t have much.”
“Xena!” I protested with mock offense, “I would never steal from the very people giving me succor after such an ordeal!”
Gabrielle chuckled. “The pickings are better in Hermione anyway.”
I know her tone was meant to tease, and while she was technically correct, her words stung. That gave me pause. Why would I take offense at her suggestion that I’d do the one thing I could be counted on to do? I suppose it’s one thing to be a thief, and another for people you care about to think of you as a thief. I didn’t blame her of course; I was a thief and I knew in my bones that it was all I’d ever likely be. That didn’t mean I was always happy about it though. I was still angry at myself for causing this predicament for my friends in the first place. Sure, we’d all survived, and while that helped my mood greatly, there was no denying that my greed and avarice were the reason Xena and Gabrielle were on this beach, spending a cold night in wet clothes.
I glanced over at Xena: a living, breathing monument to a person’s ability to change. I wondered if she ever missed it. Not the blood and carnage, certainly, but the power, and exercising a skill set at which she was uniquely good. There was a certain thrill and satisfaction, even a point of pride at pulling off a heist that no one else could do. To outsmart and beat the odds – there had to be a similar rush to Xena’s line of work. Her former line of work, as it were.
With a shrug, I put my musings aside. While there may be a market for warriors who fight for the greater good, a thief who had changed his stripes was a harder sell. The idea seemed laughable; a thief who steals from the rich to give to the poor – it was a fanciful idea that would never catch on.
~~~~~
“You seem lost in thought,” I commented, noting our friend’s dark expression. “Conscience catching up with you?”
“Xena, you know me too well,” Autolycus replied with a glance to our sleeping companions. “This is all my fault, and all for some stupid rocks in the ground.”
“Sparkly, shiny, valuable rocks,” Gabrielle added.
“Yes, well…” he still looked uncomfortable.
“Have you ever considered another line of work?” my bard gently asked.
“Me? Heavens no! I’ve only ever been good at one thing.”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I suspect you have many skills too.”
“Forgery, larceny, prestidigitation, lock picking… my many skills are all in the same family.” He smiled as he counted them off.
“You forgot being forthright, dependable, and caring,” I added and he grinned bashfully.
“Cooking, don’t forget that. I make a mean fish stew.”
I empathized with our friend. I know how very hard it is to see yourself in a new light. It’s strange how long leading a different life can seem like an act. You may behave differently on the outside, but it feels inauthentic on the inside. I’ve come to learn it’s from selling ourselves short. It was impossible to remember my own metamorphosis while watching Autolycus wrestle with his guilty conscience at the fire. Once upon a time I foolishly thought the decision to change would be the hardest step in my journey for redemption. How long had it been, that every time I saw my reflection, I saw shades of the old me looking back. It wasn’t until I met Gabrielle that I realized I had made progress, and had it in me to make progress still. I knew Autolycus would feign offense, so I chose not to wish him a companion like Gabrielle, not out loud anyway. In my heart though, I hope he indeed finds someone that is as bright of spirit as I have. Still, men like the King of Thieves like to work alone and find companionship on the road without commitments.
“What brought you to the harbor in the first place?” he asked us curiously.
“Gabrielle?” I answered, eyebrow arched.
With a frown at me that was more playful than anything else, she answered him. “Look, we needed the supplies anyway. Argo was getting new shoes at the stable and I’d found this fortune teller and…”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Autolycus said with an exaggerated eyeroll. “Oldest trick in the book. Annoys me to no end that women have a lock on that profession. What was it, Gabrielle? Cards? Palm reading? Crystal ball? Runes? Or did she light candles and talk to your relatives in Tartarus?”
“Palm reading,” Gabrielle replied flatly. “And we don’t know that she was a fake…”
Autolycus laughed out loud. “You’re going on a journey, there is danger, a handsome man perhaps…” He said with an exaggerated accent.
“All of that came to pass, actually,” Gabrielle replied, a bit defensively. She turned to me. “Don’t you think it’s possible that some people have a skillset that just baffles us? Look at all the stuff you do on a daily basis!”
“The difference is,” I reminded her, “I actually do the stuff that I do. I don’t just talk about it and make predictions.”
“Maybe,” she allowed, sounding somewhat defeated.
For all of the wet and the cold, I had to acknowledge that I was happy. I could fare much worse in life than chatting with Gabrielle and Autolycus around a bonfire on the beach.
~~~~~
“Are you saying that oracles are fakes too?” I asked of both my companions. I’m not sure why it bothered me, but for some reason I was offended on behalf of the Oracle of Aphrodite I’d met briefly so long ago. Maybe this fortune teller had been a fake, whatever. But the thought of that oracle deceiving a five-year-old me was more than I was willing to bear.
“Oracle, fortune teller, it’s all the same scheme, Gabrielle” Autolycus replied. “They study tiny movements on your face and body language to know when they’re saying something that strikes a chord with you or not. Good ones can take that skill all the way to Delphi.”
Xena at least had the good grace, or wisdom perhaps not to take our friend’s side completely. “Gabrielle, I wouldn’t say that there aren’t people out there with skills I can’t fathom, I’m just saying that I don’t think your fortune teller was one of them.”
“Oh, come on Xena,” Autolycus protested. “Surely you don’t go in for that. I knew a woman once, had a great gig as an Oracle.” He cocked his head trying to remember details. “Oracle of Demeter as I recall, she had an explanation at the ready for any turn of weather or events, lived like a queen in the temple.”
“What happened to her?” I asked, curious despite my annoyance.
“I think she ran off with one of her acolytes, whole town was devastated. Soon as she left, the crops failed and the bottom fell out of the local pottery market.” He shrugged. I shook my head in disappointment, there would be no arguing with the two of them.
“Look,” he continued, “believe what you want, but take it from a guy who knows the angles – someone accepting offerings is just selling you another angle. Now if you will excuse me, I’m off to answer nature’s call.” He took one of the sticks of drift wood out of the fire to use as a torch. “I’ll scout a little, see if I can find a path leading from the beach that we can use tomorrow to get to the main road to Hailesis, If I’m not back in an hour or so, you can figure that Macon didn’t go far and I may need help.”
Xena nodded and he walked away from our fire. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked. “I hadn’t considered that Macon might be lurking just out of sight.”
My lover smiled and shook her head. “I think Macon knows how to make a fire on his own. I saw a thin trail of smoke just as the sun was setting, so I’m confident I know where he’s at. I don’t think he’ll try testing me again. If he does…” she left that last part hanging. “Here let’s sit down,” she added, moving a log closer to the fire for warmth, yet still upwind of the smoke. I doubted either of us would sleep, though, damp as we were.
We sat in silence for a few moments, lost in our own thoughts. Then she spoke up again, softly. “Gabrielle, I don’t agree with Autolycus when it comes to Oracles, at least not all of them. I’ve seen plenty in this world already that I know there are things beyond my understanding.” She didn’t have to say it, she could have been talking about Illusia, the time she died, the time I died, or the mystics of Morpheus. The two of us have seen some things.
She continued, “I mean, why wouldn’t Aphrodite, or whichever God, not grant special powers to their favored?”
“It does seem like a very Aphrodite thing to do, doesn’t it?”
“And were I an Oracle, and a five-year-old you came running up to return a flower, well I’d certainly gift you with knowledge if I could.”
I chuckled in spite of myself. “Xena, you might be going soft on me.”
She frowned most comically. “Me?!” she protested. “I still think that fortune teller was a crock.” Her warm laughter was almost infectious.
“Maybe, that fortune should have been for you. You’re the one who falls for the handsome men whenever we adventure on the ocean.” Her laughter stopped abruptly; my tease having found it’s mark which made me laugh all the more.
“We will camp here tonight,” Xena said, the statement not up for discussion. Gabrielle and the warrior exchanged some meaningful glances with each other as the three of us dismounted our horses and began to unsaddle them. Xena’s mare nickered at me.
“I don’t see what your problem is,” I replied politely. “When I attacked you, I was dressed like her,” I nodded my head towards Xena but the mare was unmoved.
“Horses know,” Xena said tightly, only relaxing when she gently touched the horse’s cheek and neck. “It’s okay Argo,” she said soothingly.
Gabrielle frowned at me, “She can probably smell the crazy,” she said flatly.
“Oh, look who’s grown a spine,” I shot back reflexively raising my hand to roast the brat. Xena calmly stepped in between us and her eyes were cold and hard.
“Keep your shit together,” she growled and I lowered my hand. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
While neither spoke to the other, Xena and Gabrielle participated in this strange dance of sorts that was clearly born from their years of traveling together. Xena tended to her horse and the one the bard rode. When I walked away from my stallion after removing the saddle with no intention to brush him, she brushed him as well, then checked the hooves for rocks or strain. As she worked, the bard set up camp, gathering firewood and building a camp fire near a couple of large rocks, then setting up their bed rolls.
“Going to put me in the middle, Gabrielle?” I teased good naturedly as she worked.
“Gods don’t sleep,” she shot back unflinchingly. “Xena, would you like something to eat – we have some dried meat, bread and cheese.”
“Gods don’t need to eat either,” I replied even though she hadn’t spoken to me. “But thanks for asking.” She rolled he eyes at me and I pushed, granted – probably harder than it was wise, “What’s your problem dear Gabrielle?”
She put down her bag and stood up, green eyes lit with anger glaring up into my face. “Callisto, my hate for you is exhausting. Being in your presence is toxic and the world would be a much, much better place without you in it. I know that because we get these temporary reprieves every time Xena kills you.”
“Too bad it doesn’t stick,” I shot back acidly. “But by all means, be honest with me. If your lover were a little better at keeping me dead, I wouldn’t have had to turn to that brat of yours to do the job right.”
Gabrielle was about to respond when Xena cut in. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure to get it right this time.”
I joined Xena by the fire and sat on the rock next to hers. She’d taken out her sword and a sharpening stone, and began to work on the blade, the rhythmic sound providing counterpoint to the dwindling fire. Gabrielle had laid down on the bedroll across the fire and was either lulled to sleep by the sound or was faking sleep to shut me out. It didn’t matter. Taunting the bard no longer provided the lift that it used to. Nothing did.
I sat in the quiet of the night and looked up at the sky, the moon, and the stars and wondered to myself for the millionth time why I couldn’t be moved by nature’s majesty. Why it was all just one big, oppressive, disappointing joke. My life and sanity were forfeit the day Xena rode into Cirra. The decades that had passed since then had been one long, drawn out death, and I was beyond ready for it to be over. Life was a rock pressing down upon me and I was ready to put that boulder down.
I’d tired of fighting with these two, just as I’d tired of everything else. I turned my attention to the dwindling fire and pointed my finger at it, causing flames to burst from the wood.
“No need for firewood with me around.” I said conversationally. “This is probably the last night sky either one of us will ever see.” I gave her every opportunity for a civil conversation and yet she seemed distracted, like she was listening to someone else.
~~~~~
“I’m going for a walk.” I said as I stood. Both annoyed and relieved at the sensation tugging at the back of my mind, I was grateful to have a reason to not sit and engage with Callisto, but I was also worried that what I sensed could be even worse.
I walked a short distance from our campsite to the woods. Callisto’s morbidity was actually a good thing. I wasn’t worried about leaving her alone with Gabrielle – while she still goaded my companion when given the opportunity, we both knew it was out of habit and for show. Truly, something had changed in her. She was deadly, that was a given, but there was an emptiness now, a hopelessness. This was new. If I were a better person, maybe I’d have felt the smallest shred of sympathy for her. But, she’d killed my son; Hope was just the weapon she used to do it. I hated her with every fiber of my being. As did Gabriele, and she was a much better person than I. If Gabrielle could not be moved to mercy, there was no mercy to be had.
With intention, I put those thoughts away, reorienting on the here and now. I called out to the night around me, “Ares, I know you’re here because my skin is crawling. Show yourself.”
A moment later, he materialized, handsome and grinning. “You’re the only mortal I know who can do that,” he said with feigned appreciation.
“What do you want?” I asked bluntly. While I was not immediately worried about Gabrielle and Callisto alone at our camp, I did not want to dally here either.
“I’ve come to give you one last chance to join up with me and Dahak. We’re going to win, Xena. There’s no turning back. Join us.” He spoke with calm assurance and charm as he looked me up and down. He was on his best behavior which naturally gave me pause.
“What makes you think you can trust Dahak?” I asked pointedly. “Let me guess, is it because you’ve played such a large part in his daughter’s delicate condition?”
Unruffled, he smiled. “So you know?” He chuckled with particular self-satisfaction. “And we haven’t even sent out the announcements yet.”
He cocked his head, inquiring how I knew. “Seraphin said Hope had a special purpose. I heard you two were together and I guessed the rest. Hope is pregnant with your child.”
I heard Gabrielle walk up behind me and I winced. This is not how I wanted her to find out.
“No, that’s not possible,” she said in disbelief and horror.
Ares beamed. “Congratulations Gabrielle, you’re going to be a grandma.”
I could feel the anger rising within me even as I felt the sickness rising within Gabrielle. How many times had we been tasked with righting the wrongs of Olympians who toyed with the lives of mortals for their enjoyment and distraction? And as if our own gods weren’t bad enough, seeing them manipulated by a being even more insidious was infuriating.
“Dahak’s daughter, your Olympian seed? You sold out your fellow gods so you can sire a new race!” I spat in disgust. Even in battle you had alliances, fleeting as they may be. Here he was ready to put his whole family on the chopping block, even his sister Aphrodite, just for assurances at survival for himself. It was disgusting.
“Our child will be the first of what Dahak calls ‘The Six Destroyers’. Insidious creatures with no souls who eat the living and the righteous and lay waste to all gods.” I knew Ares. For all his cunning and strategy he also could be blinded by the promise of power. In all likelihood, this would blow up in his face and he’d have earned every bit of it.
“You deserve the little monsters,” I said without an ounce of sympathy.
“This can’t be happening,” Gabrielle said, her voice tight with grief and disbelief. I ached for her, wanted nothing more than to comfort her, and knew that to do so in Ares’ presence would diminish any respect he might have for her. My instincts kept me where I stood, apart from my love and glaring at the God of War.
“Oh, but it can Gabrielle. It’s the beginning of the end, and it is all thanks to you.” He spoke with a smugness and calm that told me he was confident that he’d looked at this from every angle. He was certain, and that was never a good sign.
“The blood-letting ceremony will be the window into the word for Dahak.” He turned his attention to me as he continued. “Even if you manage to somehow kill Hope you still lose. The Fates will cut you down. For me, it’s win-win.” He gestured with his fingers as if he were snipping a thread. With a final grin and a wink, he added, “Goodbye Xena. It has been fun.” With that, he turned and faded into the night of the forest.
~~~~~
I barely listened as Xena spoke to me. I could tell that she was saying ‘goodbye’ and trying to shoulder some of this pain, but I couldn’t take it in, it was too much. Interspersed between admissions as to the joy and meaning I brought to my lover’s life, my own mind was calculating the unmitigated horrors that would be unleashed on the world by my own progeny. Hope was of my flesh, my blood; sired from rape by a demon absent a shred of goodness or decency. I was merely the vessel that brought Hope into the world. Because of my weakness, I had not taken her out by killing her as an infant and stopping all of this from happening.
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Xena said gently, realizing I could not follow, nor really take in the comfort she was trying to provide.
“What?” I asked absently.
“Even if you’d killed Hope as a baby, they’d have found a way to bring her back, just as they did when you killed her as a child. None of this is on you.” Xena’s eyes were gentle, full of sorrow and sadness. We walked back to camp where Callisto sat, gazing at the stars.
“Looks like I’m not the only one craving oblivion,” she said matter-of-factly as Xena and I sat down on my bedroll.
I looked at her, but couldn’t really see her. Like I was trying to figure out what exactly she was. Same blond hair, same black armor; she’d be beautiful were she not evil and deranged. She cocked her head at me looking puzzled, then turned back to gazing at the stars. I don’t know if she did it to afford us some measure of privacy while still staying in Xena’s line of sight, or if it were because my gaze made her uncomfortable. Either way, I didn’t care.
Xena and I didn’t talk. There was nothing to say. There would be no sleep tonight. In frustration, I wished for a cleverness I did not possess. Were I as Socrates, or Pythagoras, maybe I’d figure out a way to destroy Hope and leave Xena unharmed. There had to be some way to do it. How many times had we been on the precipice of losing each other, losing our lives, losing our world because of some form of evil or another? This though, this was the worst. It felt different, it felt final. As we sat next to each other, I reached for her and she reached back, holding my hand. That was all we needed. The warmth of each other’s touch said volumes, all the utterances of love and devotion that we’d expressed in numerous ways over the years were clear, it was understood words were not needed.
Finally, my eyes were drawn over Callisto’s head to the stars she was looking at – the tiny points of light that made the night sky a wonderous thing. I had to ask myself if this was the last night sky I might ever see.
A good day fighting; the greater good… those words rambled through my head over and over as we traveled from the village. We were past the smell of smoke and the dead before the rain started. The conversation I’d had with Temecula only hours ago played over in my mind as Xena and I walked several more miles in the rain. I could see the shadows of my younger self in him. I knew that his life would be forever changed now that he’d passed the threshold into taking the life of another. I was upset with myself that my aim had not been true; that I hadn’t struck the killing blow, thereby sparing that young man. Again I was reminded that as much as I’d learned about fighting in my time traveling with Xena, there are still skills I needed to work on. Skills to make me a better killer. What had I become? How had I moved so far from the person who wondered if we needed to kill others to just accepting it as a given for our own survival or protection of those we loved?
I thought about the young and innocent me. How much I hadn’t know about life, loss, and love. I considered the pain I’d endured in my evolution, the wearing down that life does to all of us. Like the sculpting of marble, how pieces of us are chipped away to reveal our truest self underneath. Is that what life was – forever sculpting until all that remains is the dust of what was once marble? I glanced at Xena as I walked and once again asked myself if it was this worth it. I thought about Chin and the times that I’d not been enough for Xena, when I’d made mistakes and bad choices. I thought about Solan and Hope. I thought about the people we’d helped and the trials we’d suffered, and about the lessons those experiences had taught me. Unbidden images came to mind of silly things – splashing in a lake or a bath, the practical jokes and the good times with friends and family. The scales tipped firmly on the side of life giving me more than it extracted in payment, but that didn’t make the payment any less painful. I hope that the balance sheet of Temecula’s life would be just as rewarding, hopefully extracting less a toll.
Night descended, the twilight slowly enrobing us. The evening wasn’t cold and the rain came down first as a heavy mist, then light droplets. Xena and I didn’t talk about it, but we were both on the same page; as if the water would somehow wash the stench of war from our bodies or our souls, but I didn’t hold out much hope of that. We continued step after step, mile after mile on the trail gently sloping upwards.
“Gabrielle,” she said softly, breaking into my thoughts. “I think we should camp here.”
I blinked my eyes and looked around, we’d come across what looked to be an ancient grove of olive trees, huge with a canopy of leaves that would shield us from the worst of the rain. Silhouettes in black against the indigo of night, the shapes of branches and leaves were beautiful in their own way, at once inscrutable and comforting. I nodded in agreement and set my bag down while Xena tended to Argo.
“I don’t know how much dry wood I’m going to find.” I offered conversationally as I sought out the driest spot under the tree for our camp.
“Whatever you can find.” I had to smile. The shock was subsiding and I knew that Xena was trying to keep me busy. We needed to get away from the death and destruction, at least the part of that we wouldn’t carry with us forever. Xena undoubtedly felt that keeping me occupied would help me reorient and refocus my thoughts. It seemed to do the trick because I found some small dry branches and leaves and coaxed a meager flame under the shelter of the huge tree.
“See, I knew you could do it.” Xena joined me by the fire and wrung out her hair.
“Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself,” I replied, doing my best not to sound morose. “You are right, Xena. I have changed so much since I left Poteidaia. Temecula was like seeing a younger reflection of myself.”
Xena smiled at me tightly, trying to keep sadness from her eyes and not being entirely successful. She knew that I didn’t think all of the changes were good, certainly there were a number of things I’d undo if given the chance, but on balance I had to admit that I was a stronger person, a more rounded person, a more-worldly person that the one who left her family four years ago. By the gods, had it only been four years?
“You’re not the only one who’s changed,” Xena said reassuringly as she rummaged through Argo’s pack for some cheese and dried meat.
I looked across our poor excuse for a fire and studied my companion. Even now, wet, tired, emotionally spent, she was beautiful. Her cheekbones, the way her hair framed her face, rich ebony setting off her piercing blue eyes, her lips – lips that knew every inch of my being. In spite of hardships our life together entailed, I could not imagine for one second my soul being tethered to anyone else. To people who didn’t know her well, Xena was fearsome. She was fair-minded, smart, articulate, strong, beautiful and utterly sexy. But she could also seem aloof, distant, dismissive, cold, and formidable. When people got to know her as I do, she is also funny, warm, playful, deeply caring and tender. This side she keeps from all but the few of us who know her the best; her mother, Autolycus, Hercules, Joxer, myself, and the random ex-lovers who seemed to pop up too frequently for my taste.
“How do you think you’ve changed?” I asked.
The rain started to drip through the leaves where I was sitting, so I shifted my position closer to my lover’s. Xena shifted, making space for me to lean against her warm but wet body and wrapped one of our bed rolls around our shoulders. The night would be uncomfortable and cold, but it wasn’t our first nor would it be our last.
“Ask me to describe something,” Xena said softly, her breath warm against my cheek. “Anything.”
I shrugged. “Describe this rain,” I replied, then waited for her response.
~~~~~
I listened for several moments to the sound of the night before responding. I tried for a moment to see the rain as Gabrielle might see it. I had no intention to try and guess how my bard might describe something as mundane as a light rain, but rather by putting myself in her place, in trying to see something with her vision, to access perspective so much more welcoming and open than my own.
“The rain came down with gentle persistence,” I began. “Soft droplets were urged down from the clouds by a soil thirsty for growth. The rain, in its quest to meet the earth washed clean everything it encountered along the way.”
“That was really beautiful,” Gabrielle whispered and I could tell that she was not flattering me, but genuinely moved.
“That’s just it, Gabrielle. Before you, I’d have said that rain was wet, it made one’s armor creak and could be a miserable nuisance.”
“That’s not entirely true,” she chided me gently.
“No?” I asked, surprised. “How would I have described the rain before I met you?”
My bard was quiet a moment. To be honest, I could not think of a more contented place to be than wrapped up in a blanket with my love, mostly dry and listening to a gentle rain. When she finally spoke, she surprised me.
“You’d have commented that a gentle rain was useful in tracking, whereas a hard rain would wash away footprints. That the clouds and mist could reduce visibility and give you the opportunity to sneak up on your foes. That the raging sounds of storms could provide safety from fire attacks, and mask the sounds of troop movements. But yes, it would also mean you’d have to spend some time oiling your armor.”
There was no denying that her observations made me uncomfortable. “I worry, Gabrielle, in that I feel changed by you in so many ways and yet I hear you speak and fear that my world has impacted you so much more.”
I could feel her shrug against me. “You’re implying that the changes you’ve had in my life are inherently negative, and that the changes I’ve had on you are positive. I think it’s a mixed bag both ways.”
“You don’t think that you’ve had to change more than I?” I pressed gently.
To be honest, I was not sure what Gabrielle would be like, had I not intervened that day in Poteidaia. Equally, I could not picture what I might be like had she not joined me at my campfire that first night. A world without Gabrielle was not one that I’d want to live in. That was abundantly clear to me the second she went into the pit with Hope, when I could feel the rending of my soul, only mended with my bard’s return.
“Xena, I think that seeing me fight is an obvious, noticeable change,” she replied. “It’s dramatic. No one is going to immediately notice the changes in you, because they’re internal. It’s not as flashy. I only get glimpses of it because you let me see the real you, like the fears that you have, and that is only in the rare moments you entertain fear. You let me see you uncertain, playful, grouchy, vulnerable, and very, very loving. When you think about it, that is a lot more powerful than being able to knock someone senseless with a staff. And besides, I didn’t have to change my love, I made the choice to change, as did you.”
I considered her words and thought about the choices we make in love. I wouldn’t say all choices were conscious how much her strength and gentleness had sculpted me into something better, but I suppose the choice I made to open myself up to her love made the rest of the choices no more conscious than breathing. I couldn’t help but scan back through my memory, the relationships I’d chosen to ignite or leave, and the imprints those unions left on my psyche. I realized all involved some degree of choice.
The debt I carried to the world around me for all of the things I’ve done may never be paid, but with Gabrielle in my life, and the growth I’ve been able to enjoy, having cleaved my soul to hers, would make carrying that kind of debt possible for the rest of my days.
The rain began to pick up, the droplets heavier and finding their way through our shelter of branches and leaves with more regularity. If this persisted, our fire was doomed. It wasn’t unbearably cold; more of an unpleasant inconvenience than anything else. Still, with blanket wrapped around the two of us, sitting close, chatting as the closest of friends that we were, I could think of nowhere that I’d rather be, nor anyone I would rather be with. This moment, in the rain, in the deepening darkness, my heart was full and I was content and happy.
The hour had grown very late. I stared stubbornly into the fire, resolutely steeling myself against visions from Alti that I did not wish to entertain. I could almost feel the snowflakes landing on my face as I turned my head to the side, seeing Gabrielle, hair cropped short, about to be crucified. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I focused again on the fire, watching the orange and white flames dance, bathing me in warmth.
“Do you want to talk about this? Because I think we should talk about this.” Gabrielle’s voice was soft, cautious. She’d stayed up late too, no doubt concerned about me. She’d been writing, a common enough occurrence to be sure, but I suspected it served a dual purpose. I looked at her and studied the long summer-gold tresses that fell below her shoulders. In the warm light of the fire her hair seemed redder than the luminous blond of mid-day. For now, my vision of our death was only that, a vision, but it haunted me nonetheless; like swimming at the base of a wave that was rising up and up about to curl and crash down with all the might of Poseidon behind it.
“We can talk about it,” I said flatly, knowing full well that Najara was going to be the topic of conversation and not my visions of our forthcoming demise. If I had to discuss one or the other, I was grateful for it to be the former. I tossed another piece of wood on the fire; plentiful enough here and one reason we were up so late.
“What happened?” Gabrielle asked.
I winced. “You need to be more specific,” I replied automatically as if making her say it might forestall the need to answer.
“Do you think I have a thing for Najara?” Gabrielle could be painfully direct when she wanted to.
“Do you have a thing for Najara? Did you, I mean?”
“Did I fantasize about fucking her?” Gabrielle replied, sternly holding my gaze until I looked away towards the fire. “I found her attractive, yes, quite.” She softened her voice. “I enjoyed the time I spent with her – until I realized the voices in her head were saying crazy stuff. I appreciated and respected what I thought she represented, but also, clearly, I was wrong.”
I could feel her studying my profile, trying to fathom the intention behind my actions. I knew that if I looked at her, I’d see confusion and hurt, so I didn’t. I felt terrible.
“Xena, I felt like you were giving me to her, without so much as consulting me,” she continued, her tone neutral. I continued to stare at the fire trying to figure out how to answer without admitting the vision that I wanted to spare her from. “That’s not appropriate,” Gabrielle added, without accusation.
“I saw the two of you at the lake,” I explained, knowing there was no path for deflection here. “The way your arm wrapped around her waist when you joined her on Buttercup. The way the two of you talked. I knew you were attracted to her, knew that she could offer you something that I couldn’t, I thought she might be…better for you.” My voice was void of emotion. I struggled to keep the pain from my words, they just came out empty.
Gabrielle was quiet for several minutes before responding.
“I see.”
She was silent a moment more, staring into the flames. “I’m curious as to why you didn’t consult with me about this. I can see a man thinking it was his place to make decisions single-handedly, but not any man I would want to be with. I’m surprised that here and now you’re still doing it. Besides,” she added calmly, “I seem to recall a conversation we had years ago about a certain king of Ithaca? Are threesomes not as interesting to you now?”
I deserved that, and I don’t think she could have said anything that would have stung me more. But the sexual dalliances weren’t the part that hurt. This wasn’t like it was in the beginning; leaving her in an inn or tavern for her own good. Or maybe it was. Had I really grown so little? I saw her as capable enough to fight, but not enough to make up her own mind romantically? The truth was, this was about her survival, only I couldn’t say that. Besides, I was more fearful of someone offering Gabrielle something I couldn’t. If it’d have just been about sex, it would have been easy.
“I know you’re searching for something Gabrielle.” I said, instead of voicing my own short comings. “You have a spiritual longing and are hungry to have it filled. I…” I shrugged. I had no answer for her, at least not one I was willing to give. She was right. I acted out of jealousy and made a big mistake.
“I don’t follow a spiritual…whatever.”
“I deserve that,” she replied, drawing her eyes from the fire to look at me. Never have I felt as seen as when Gabrielle looks at me. She has the ability to be more present than anyone else I’ve ever met. In her gaze I felt naked, but not exposed; vulnerable yet still safe.
“To you it may seem like I’m willing to join any cult that crosses my path…”
“I didn’t mean to say-” I interjected and she cut me off.
“No, I can see how from your perspective it seems less nuanced.” She shrugged. “I admit I am looking for things beyond martial skill. I’m looking for spiritual meaning, for philosophical education, for knowledge beyond that which I have. I suspect I’ll be a student my whole life. I want to understand life and my place in this world, to find the meaning, and the balance in the things that I’ve done that make it hard to sleep sometimes. That is not to say that I’m not madly in love with you. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to live my life with you, at your side all my days. Why can’t I do both? Be with you and grow as a person?”
“I just thought our paths were different,” I offered. And while true, it did not make up for not treating Gabrielle as my equal.
“You may be right,” she said, shifting her place by the fire so she could sit near me. With gentle finger tips she touched the bruise at my eye left by Najara. “I confess that sometimes I wonder if we are on paths that have converged but may divide at some point down the road. Who can say?”
I forced a smile. I could say, I knew better. At moments like this I felt that she and I could get lost in each other’s eyes for hours. It was comforting, being able to share moments with her. Having her undivided attention, listening and being heard.
She studied my face for a bit before continuing. “I won’t lie to you Xena. Yes, I found Najara attractive. I found her beautiful, warm, articulate, and caring. There was this nurturing energy from her, and attraction. I saw how she looked at me. I knew what was going on, and I was enjoying that kind of flirtation. And that, my love, that is all it was. I guess that after having had to endure so many of your past paramours showing up here and there, I was glad of a chance to make you feel a bit of that unease. But I’d have never thrown moves at her.” Reflexively, my eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want her sexually, even if she did kick your butt in a fight,” my bard added with a wry smile.
~~~~~
Xena didn’t mean to chuckle but she did in spite of herself. “It happens once in a while,” she said with a self-depreciating smirk.
“I didn’t think you went for blonds. I thought dark hair was more your type.” She challenged me with good humor. “
I grinned at her and arched my eyebrow. “Maybe I have several types?”
“I see,” she said, grinning back.
“Do you think the D’Jinn were real?”
“Certainly, they were real to her,” Xena replied. “I don’t know how she knew the things she knew, whether it’s voices only she can hear or beings only she can see – but you and I have encountered some fairly unusual things, so…?”
“We are on a first name basis with Aphrodite,” I acknowledged.
“Exactly.” She smiled.
“Xena, there is something else we need to talk about.” Between heartbeats her expression shifted from ease to wary. “Your darkness.” I said simply, not wanting to prolong the mystery. My love nodded and looked away from me, back to the fire. I touched her chin and gently but firmly turned her head to look at me. This wasn’t something either of us could hide from. I tried to articulate my thoughts clearly and without façade.
“In my mind’s eye, Xena, I see a maze of paths before me. I see all of the things that interest me, I see possibilities that meander this way and that. But at present I see myself walking a path that is parallel to yours. I am a bard, I fight, I am learning the art of battle and diplomacy. I help people, I remind you of the light that you have shining within you. All of these things happen while I live my life at your side.” I could see the darkness lurking in Xena’s expression, just under the surface, closer to me than it had been in some time.
“And what of my path?” she asked me, her voice strained and hollow. She was fearful of what I might say.
“I see you as walking the same path you’ve walked since your youth – only now you are walking in the opposite direction, away from darkness, not towards it.” I smiled at her warmly, reassuringly. “But the path is rather defined and specific,” I added with a helpless shrug. She nodded in agreement. “I know you battle darkness daily. I know that at every opportunity you make the conscious choice not to do what would be easy – to lash out in destructive anger. I know that sometimes you fail, that the darkness even in fleeting instances, wins.”
“And I’ve hurt you,” she said with no trace of defensiveness.
I nodded and brushed a stray hair away from her face, letting my fingertips graze across her skin. Xena loved it when I touched her face like this. “You have hurt me. And I have hurt you.”
Xena covered my hand in her own and kissed my fingers. “Gabrielle, if you lose control, you’re not going to kill me.”
“Does it hurt any less?” I asked. “When I’ve hurt you, haven’t you thought death would be easier?”
“Point taken,” she replied with a wince.
“Search your feelings. Do you really think you’re going to kill me?” I saw something drift across her expression that I couldn’t identify. “Life is a dangerous place Xena, we live in a world where Gods make sport of us, where warlords run rampant, longevity is not a guarantee where ever and however we live. I feel like the choice should be mine to live my life with the woman I love even if she doesn’t think that’s what’s best for me. I know you don’t want me to leave you.”
“I don’t want you to leave me,” she whispered. “But I want you to live.”
I leaned close, gently resting my forehead against hers, holding her hand, sharing her breath. I whispered, “Would you wish for me longevity or happiness? Because I choose happiness.”
She moved forward that little bit so she could kiss me. I could feel it in that moment, she understood. With her kiss she could convey with ease that which would be impossible verbally. She trusted me, she would continue to trust me and let me make my own choices. Even the dangerous ones. Especially the dangerous ones. I tried to be gentle and responded as carefully as I could, open and encouraging, enjoying the way our mouths and tongues moved together. Fleetingly, I thought that I should try and stop her, for her own good. She was still badly injured; ribs most certainly broken, bruises too numerous to mention, scrapes, cuts and torn muscles. Najara had indeed got the better of my love in combat.
The thought was dismissed. Xena wanted that connection now, that physical connection beyond words. She needed it now and I wanted it too. Who was I to make choices for her, for her own good when I’d just spent time admonishing her for the very same thing? Xena was a grown woman who knew her body. She knew her limitations (if there were any) and could decide for herself what she was or wasn’t up for. Besides, weaving our hearts together was something that kept her darkness at bay and I’d seen too much of it these past couple days. I threaded my fingers through her silky dark hair and pulled her face close, deepening our kiss.
“Some of this darkness is just an act, right?” I murmured as she lowered me to our bedroll, her bruised arms still warm and strong around me.
“Your interest in blonds is just an act too, right?” she murmured as she moved into kiss me once more.
“I’m way more into leather,” I chuckled my eyes twinkling with delight at the anticipation as to where the night would lead us.
Neither of us were disappointed. We loved each other with a shared tenderness and urgency. Xena needed to reassure me that she took responsibility for the mistake she made in thinking I could be handed off to another and I needed to reassure her that she was still the warrior of my heart. That I had no fear of her, even though she lived with a deadly demon bottled within. Tenderly, I tried to show her that I trusted her and would love no other. That while I was my own person, I had made the choice to be devoted to her, and that the distance between one of us ending and the other of us beginning was near insignificant.
Afterwards, as she lay with her head resting at my breast, long dark hair strewn over my abdomen our legs in a tangle wrapped in our bedroll, I listened to her breathing. To me, it was the sound of contentment. The random sounds of night surrounded us, along with the gentle crackle from our now dying fire. I was warm and happy. The woman wrapped around me was my home, and for now at least I was certain she’d put any foolish thoughts of making me leave my home aside.
“Yeah,” I breathed, kissing the top of her head. “Definitely the leather…”
“So, you’re not mad?” Xena asked, an uncharacteristic uncertainty threading her voice. I smiled at her reassuringly as I tended to the food on our cooking fire, briefly lifting the lid of the tandoori to check the vegetables inside.
“Xena, how can I be angry when you were trying to spare me the horror of that vision? Especially when we don’t know for certain that it’s going to come to pass? I think I would have done the same.”
I was grateful for many things this evening. Grateful that we’d been successful in banishing Alti. Grateful I’d not been taken over by a power-hungry demon like Tataka. Grateful for the privacy of this cozy courtyard where Xena and I could be away from the suspicious gaze of the men in town. Grateful for the gentle breeze bringing with it the scent of exotic spices and flowers. Grateful for a place to stay, food to eat, and the kindness of a woman who didn’t even know us.
We’d been walking away from town when we were stopped by an elderly woman. She was Naiyima’s mother and offered us the use of her courtyard to stay and rest. Her home was a simple dwelling, but it was on the outskirts of the town, and afforded some measure of privacy and respite. Aside from thanking us and preparing a delicious feast, she’d left us on our own saying that she felt the spirit of her departed daughter guiding her to do so. Most people had grown wary of us, as the disappearance of Naiyima and the battle with Alti were the likes of which no one had ever seen. But Omala had been insistent. Xena had tried to refuse the food, or to offer her money, but like welcoming grandmother, she shooed Xena out of the way and told her to keep her coin.
Xena had remained dressed in the local garb, fitting in quite naturally, at least on the outside. I could tell that she had moments of enjoying our surroundings nearly as much as I before shifting back to her stance of wary vigilance. I was lucky, I could take in all of the new sights, sounds, and smells of this mystical place without having to continually be on guard. Traveling with Xena afforded me the luxury of immersing myself someplace new, knowing that no one could ever watch my back better.
I passed her a plate of food. “Here, eat up.”
The cuisine alone had been a revelation. Dishes featuring chick-peas, lentils, dried fruits, as well as rice and an array of spices gave everything not only a range of flavor but of color as well. The naan was hot; I pulled a piece off with my fingers to scoop up some rice with the main dish.
“All that’s missing is some rabbit perhaps, or fish,” Xena commented after a healthy bite.
I chuckled. “It’s doing us both good to just eat plants for a while. Like we’re resetting our systems.”
Xena frowned. “Don’t get me wrong, the food is delicious. But having some wine or other comforts of home with this feast would be perfect.”
I didn’t want to spoil the mood, but felt that I needed to voice something.
“What?” Xena asked as if she could read my thoughts. Naiyima was right, we were very much connected.
“Xena, I’ve heard you talk about Alti and until today I don’t think I really grasped what a monster she was.”
“I’m not the story teller, Gabrielle,” she replied with a sad smile. “I’m not as good at conveying things.”
I shook my head. “No, Xena, it isn’t that. I just think there is a toxicity to her… it’s hard to explain. Callisto was all about chaos, and Alti has this vile quality, this corruption that just seeps out of her and infects all she comes into contact with.”
“I know,” Xena whispered, her thoughts clearly having traveled back to the time when she and Alti were allies. If they were more, I didn’t want to know about it.
“What I’m trying to say is that, once again, I’m speechless at the people and things you’ve overcome to become the woman you are today.” I saw her smile, albeit bashfully. “Xena, you are a force of nature.:
“And I pity anyone who tries to stop you from fulfilling your destiny” I added silently to myself.
I saw her eyes drift up once more to my hairline. I’d noticed Xena’s eyes drift over me quite frequently since I’d had my hair properly cut. If it wasn’t my hair, it was the mehndi. Honestly, I can’t say I objected to the attention but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t call her on it.
“You’re staring.” I observed. “Again.”
“The short hair is taking some getting used to. Funny that you had longer hair as a man than you do now.” I blushed in spite of myself. The memory was still fresh and probably one of the most awkward days I’ve ever spent, which was saying something.
“What was it like, Gabrielle, being a man?”
I put my plate down and gave it some thought.
“That’s just it, Xena. At no time did I really think I was a man. Yes, certainly, I was in a man’s body. With a man’s…parts. But I felt like an intruder or imposter. I didn’t want to handle, my – Shakti – you know what I mean, because I felt like an uninvited guest. So, when I had to go answer nature’s call it was quite…challenging.”
“But it was a future you…” Xena suggested.
“I know, but it’s like there wasn’t room for present me and future me in the same body. I just didn’t feel like my insides and my outsides matched. And I had all this knowledge and experiences, everything that led me to be who he was. I’d say it was up there with Illusia when it comes to surreal. What about you?”
Xena chuckled. “I don’t know what was stranger, being in a body that did not work the way I’m used to a body working, or being the ‘mother of peace’. I also had her memories, her hardships, the pain and suffering she’d witnessed and endured to make her – me the person I was. It was really something. Hopeful, I suppose? Like maybe my karma has a shot, ya know? It makes me wonder if I need to change something here and now…”
I nodded, thinking about the different people we were destined to be.
“I don’t know that I want to be a warrior. I am content to love a warrior, I am willing to hone my skills, I even feel up to leading when the need arises, but to live all of that, all the time, to truly be a warrior. I don’t know…”
~~~~~
It was as unsure as I’d probably ever seen Gabrielle. I didn’t take her comment as a slight. I had no ambition to be a bard and knew that the admission of such would not offend her. I was unsure as well, wondering if I could be a warrior in one life and the mother of peace in the next.
“I don’t know how reincarnation works, Gabrielle,” I offered. “I don’t know how much of it is set or how much of it we alter with our choices from this day forward.” She nodded in agreement.
“I suppose it’s possible that living the bit we’ve lived will change our karmic path? And here I thought our gods were complicated.”
“Not complicated, just annoying,” I replied.
“Do you think it’s true? That we keep encountering the same people in lifetime after lifetime, forging new bonds and sharing new experiences?” I finished the rest of what was on my plate and drank the last of my tea while I considered her question.
“I suppose there are people I know that seem familiar, like when you’re just drawn to someone and don’t know why? Like Lao Ma for example. Or when you form a bond quickly. Like your friendship with Ephany.” Gabrielle nodded. “Maybe in one lifetime you are friends, in another you’re lovers, and in another you’re parent and child. The thing that puzzles me though is, is this just for people of this land, of this faith? Or are the people in one land governed by the faith or gods of a distant land?”
Gabrielle smiled warmly. “I don’t want to be the one to tell Aphrodite that either she doesn’t have power outside her homeland, or that some other god may very well have power in her territory.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “It’s a puzzle either way.”
“One we don’t have to deal with, fortunately.”
Our attention was diverted by Omala coming towards us carrying a tray laden with sweets.
“For you!” she said, beaming with pride. “The defeat of Khindin deserves a celebration!”
“Ohhh thank you!” Gabrielle beamed with delight. “But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble. We are so grateful to share the quiet of your courtyard.”
“Your trials are not done, my child.” Omala patted Gabrielle’s hand as she switched our empty dinner plates for plates of fruit and sweet cakes drizzled with honey. She refilled our tea and patted my shoulder.
“I feel the joy of my daughter, freed from this life.” She looked up at the sky as if her child was the starlight shining down on us. “It was her place to help you, and it is my place to help you too. It gives an old woman closeness to her departed Naiyima to help.”
While her motherly smile made me ache for my own back home, something she said struck me. “What do you mean that our trials are not done?”
She looked me up and down, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “I can sense that for the two of you, your trials are never done. You travel from one adventure to the next, do you not?”
“Sometimes it feels that way,” Gabrielle agreed, her expression imploring me to not mention her recent experience thinking she was a devi.
“We try to fit in some relaxation when we can,” I protested.
Omala just chuckled. “They say you should never pass up an opportunity to smile.” She stood up with her tray and looked at the sky once more. “It will be a beautiful night tonight. Will you be alright sleeping under the stars? I’m afraid there is not as much space inside.” She looked around the courtyard, which provided more than enough room for us.
“No, no,” I protested. “Outside is lovely. The night is warm and the breeze is delightful.”
“Naiyima will look down tonight and protect you, I can feel it,” Omala observed as she readied to take her leave.
“We can’t thank you enough Omala. I feel it too,” Gabrielle agreed as the old woman squeezed her shoulder affectionately before heading back inside.
Gabrielle tasted one of the sweets, licking the honey from her fingers, her eyes brightening with delight.
“See, this,” she said around a mouth full of food, “this is an example of karma. We travel all over the place, helping people who need help, and on occasion, someone makes us a feast and the most delectable sweet cakes. And, thank you for not mentioning that other thing…”
“Like when we end up in a place where a guru tries to make you into a statue?” I observed teasingly.
Gabrielle didn’t miss a beat. “It’s undoubtedly because of your violent past. And yes, the adventures are too numerous to mention. But I don’t know what’s worse, becoming a statue or being possessed by Tataka.” I grinned back at her. She was probably right.
I let the levity linger a moment before broaching a serious topic, one I knew would be uncomfortable. “Gabrielle I…” I began before she shook her head silencing me.
“No.”
“But you don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“Xena, we can read each other like a map. You were going to say something about me taking off and running for the hills if it seems like we’re going to ever be in a position to be crucified by Romans.” I looked down and frowned. Her expression softened and she continued, “Xena, I was there in your vision. If whatever it is comes to pass, obviously I’m not going to leave you. Don’t ask me to.”
“But there is the next life,” I said hoping she’d just do what I wanted for once and stay safe.
“I’m not done with you in this life, Warrior Princess,” she said, her voice kind and loving. “If the reincarnation that we’ve witnessed is true, then I have no doubt that we connect over and over, in the past, in our present, and in our future. For all my flaws and uncertainties, you make me feel truly loved, completely whole. And I would rather die next to you, then to have to endure the nightmare of living without you.”
I sighed. There wasn’t much to say in response because I felt the same way and she knew it. “Crucifixion is really painful…” I mused, not realizing I’d said it out loud.
“Yes, I know,” Gabrielle replied, her tone deadly serious. Of course, she knew; I saw what Alti had done to her in the square. She’d already experienced the nails driven into her hands and feet. “Still not as painful as life without you. Xena, you know for all our imperfections, our mis-steps and the times when we’ve not been at our best together, we are still better together than I think either of us would be apart. And that is a journey I want to take for decades to come.”
I don’t know if it was being in a new land, out of my customary leathers, or surrounded by wonderful new sights and smells, but in some ways I felt lighter, as if I could truly sense my karmic wheel turning towards good. I gazed at Gabrielle for long moments; taking in the beauty of her face, softly framed now by short blond hair. I let my eyes linger over the delicate designs of the mehndi. This was the woman I loved, as I have loved no other. We were two imperfect people that were able to stand a step closer to perfection when we were together. We had buttressed each other against life’s storms – sometimes working at odds, more often working together. For all the darkness I’d experienced, she brought me light, and for all of the uncertainty she had known, I brought her assurance. However the Fates pulled at our threads, we managed to knit ourselves back together in lifetime over lifetime.
“We may not know everything there is to know about our journey, Gabrielle…” I began.
“But we can figure it out together?” She supplied with a radiant grin.
I smiled in return. “Yeah, something like that.”
Despite my best efforts, our conversation at the river replayed in my mind as I tied the ropes around Najara. As with the previous night, there was a surrealism to my movements. A duality of images tugged at my memory, making me most uncomfortable. Aphrodite knows I’ve tied Xena up once or twice when we had the privacy and space at various Amazon festivals to let down our guard and indulge in some idle fantasy; the solitude of the Queen’s Hut had its privileges. There was something in the motion of moving one rope over another that I wanted to be for Xena alone, not this other woman.
I intentionally did not make the ropes as snug as I would for my love. In this setting, I didn’t want to think about my sexual escapades with Xena. I didn’t want to think about Najara either, so I let that interaction with this one-time warrior replay in my mind. That conversation at the stream. Her wounds needed to be cleaned and tended to, I had the knowledge and there was no way in Hades Najara would want Xena to touch her. nor was my lover interested in the task.
I knew before I voiced it that she didn’t want me to stop my ministrations despite her pain. She was very like Xena in that respect. I also knew, even without the aid of Xena’s jealous glares, that this woman was interested in more than peace-minded kinship. She’d been very clear about that with the gentle way she’d touched my face when I’d tied her up before. She was much bolder in her advances than she’d been the first time we’d met. Still, while much had happened between Xena and I in the months since then and even before, this was not a woman I wanted to leave my warrior for. Even if, once upon a time, Xena did think such a thing would be for my own good. If nothing else, Xena is completely cured of that notion.
All the same, despite my best efforts, I felt kinship with her. There is a loneliness in traveling a path of love in a world full of warlords. Truth be told, there was a newfound tension between Xena and I. It seemed our roles and relationship were always in a state of rebalancing. I was growing, as was she; life is not a stagnant thing. I knew it took patience on my lover’s part to support me as I tried a new way of living. Maybe she thought it a phase I might grow out of, and who knew, maybe it was – but I felt that the path I’d been on was not fulfilling me the way it needed to and I needed to try something different. Given that was how I felt, how could I fault someone else for feeling the same way?
“You’re quiet tonight?” Najara asked as I finished the ropes at her feet. “You seem distracted.”
I gave her a perfunctory smile. “I’m sorry – my mind is elsewhere,” I decided to ask the obvious. “What would you do if we let you go?”
She smiled at me, her expression always open and welcoming. “Gabriele, I’d do what I’ve been doing since my escape from prison. Helping people, healing the sick, spreading Eli’s message of peace.” As if she read my mind she added, “Xena, will never let me go. I’m too much a threat to her way of thinking. She wants to be the only warrior who can be reformed… by you.”
I frowned. “I think you’re misjudging Xena.”
Her smile shifted to one of sadness. “Gabrielle, maybe you’re the one who has misjudged her.”
I was in no mood to debate my lover with someone who had a crush on me, so I checked the rope at her feet once last time and muttered, “I need to fix supper,” before taking my leave.
She smiled at me, an unguarded smile of interest and promise. In spite of her injuries, she was still quite beautiful. I’d be lying to myself to say there wasn’t cause for attraction. Even so, I knew where my home was. I returned to our campfire and prepared dinner. Not my best effort, I must admit.
When dinner was ready, I went just outside the warmth of our fire to Xena. She’d been tending to Argo, a ritual that gave her more joy than nearly anything else. Argo was an uncomplicated companion and their relationship never had the messy ups and downs of human interaction. As I suspected, she’d been brushing the mare’s coat in long measured strokes.
“Ok, there you go, you’re done.” Argo knickered her thanks and trotted off a short distance away.
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
“Xena,” I said getting her attention.
“Yeah?”
“Supper is ready.”
She followed me back to our fire, tossing her armor down next to a rock she was using for a seat. She was taking off her arm bands, settling in for the night, so I decided to broach my concerns.
“Xena, I’ve been thinking. I know there’s no excuse for what Najara did-”
“Sure there is,” she interjected without missing a beat, “she’s a nut.”
That stung more than I wanted to admit even though I knew she wasn’t necessarily talking about the path of peace and love.
“That was before she met Eli – he showed her the truth and now all she wants to do is heal people, help them. You know, give them hope?”
“Are you saying we shouldn’t take Najara back to prison?” Xena’s frustration was rising, I could hear it in her voice even though she was trying to keep it neutral.
“I just don’t see the point if she’s already reformed. Isn’t it better to have peaceful people around who do good rather than people who fight?” The wounded look on Xena’s face told me I’d hurt her.
“Like me?” she asked, her voice tight.
“No, I’m not saying that. Xena, you’re trying to find your true way, your path. Right? Well, so is Najara.”
The disbelief was right there on her face. There was no mercy to be found here. Xena’s mind was made up.
“Najara doesn’t have a path,” she argued pointing a finger at me. “She follows whatever path her voices tell her to. You don’t believe me? Test her. Tell her ‘no’ and she’ll blow up in your face.” Her words came out in a rush. She was angry and frustrated – as was I.
“You have hardly spoken to her!” I shot back, my own voice rising.
“I don’t have to! I’m sure that she says all the right things and I’m sure she even believes them, but she’s a fanatic Gabrielle, don’t trust her!”
I was about to respond and I stopped myself. We just looked at each other, our eyes hard and set. This was hardly our first disagreement; it wasn’t even the most violent. Ever a work in progress, learning how to fight with each other was as much a journey albeit much less fun one than learning how to pleasure each other or support each other, but it was a part of the package. I took a measured breath as did she which was a signal that for now we were at an impasse. We would each think about what the other had said before trying to broach the subject again. Xena was passionate, volatile, had a dangerous temper but she was also fair and compassionate and for her to have such deep reservations about Najara gave me something to really think about. It was indeed possible that my own enjoyment of her infatuation, even if I didn’t want it, was blinding me to the truth. What I needed was some time to think, to meditate the way Eli had taught me.
~~~~~
I watched Gabrielle walk away, aching for her as I ached for myself. She was beautiful. A beauty that takes root on the inside and finishes as a flourish on the outside. Her hands had been gentle and warm as she’d touched me earlier – it ached when she stopped. I sighed unhappily. I would not take her for granted the way Xena did. I had no doubt that Xena was rough and unkind with her; Gabrielle deserved all the kindness in the word. Not for the first time, I wondered what it might be like to kiss her and to have her kiss me in return. She could be my salvation as she was Xena’s.
“A salvation you are worthier of.”
I smiled. The D’Jinn always had a calming effect on me. I’d learned not to challenge them and they rewarded me for it.
Gabrielle’s distraction had played in my favor this night, the ropes binding my feet weren’t snug at all; more for show than anything else. They were easy enough to slip out of. There was no point in doing so, however unless I had a plan.
“What is your aim?” the D’Jinn asked softly at the edges of my consciousness.
I answered truthfully. “I want to be with Gabrielle. I want to do good and be worthy of her. Xena is not.”
“What is your obstacle?” they asked, a light chuckle to the voice.
“Besides Xena?” I replied. I looked around at the campsite. The men, Joxer and Arman, were to one side with Xena, and Gabrielle at the other by the fire.
“There are too many variables, too much is hidden,” the D’Jinn explained patiently. “The boy needs to know the truth. Tell him. Let him do what he will. Gabrielle needs to see truth, truth in her friends and truth in Xena. And the truth of you.”
That made sense to me. I would set myself free, I would set the truth free and Gabrielle would see that violence was everywhere around her. Everywhere, but with me.
~~~~~
I’d put off the inevitable for as long as I possibly could. I’d have to tell Arman the truth and just take it when he came at me with rage and hatred. It couldn’t be worse than this.
“Arman?” I asked as he laid out his bedroll. All I needed was a moment to just be out with it. “I…um…I…ah…I wanted to thank you for saving me from that kid.
My eyes traveled to Arman’s bedroll and the icon from Kryton’s breast plate, the same icon on the dagger he had plunged into him, killing him. There was nothing for it, I was a coward.
“I also wanted to tell you that…um…that you’re a hero for doing it, so thanks.” I turned to take my leave.
“Joxer, wait.” Arman said, stopping me. “I know what you did back there, Xena told me.”
Inwardly I panicked. What had Xena told him?
“She told you?” I asked, praying that my voice didn’t betray my guilt.
The young man nodded. “She said it was all your idea – to come and tell me about my father, instead of letting me hear it all from who-knows-where, so I’d say we’re even, wouldn’t you?”
I agreed, even as my heart sank at my deception as we embraced. I was a fraud; I’d been one my whole life and the reality of it weighed on me like a stone. I made my way to the cooking fire, taking a seat in-between Xena and Gabby. She handed me a plate but I had no more appetite than I had courage.
“I hate this.” I said morosely.
“I’ve cooked better,” Gabby said despondently. While I did my best not to interfere in their friendship, without a doubt I’d walked in on a moment of tension, one that I was too depressed at my own short comings to bother with.
“You said it.” Xena agreed quietly, and I realized she thought I was talking about the food.
“Not the food,” I explained. “This thing with Arman.”
Gabby looked at me sympathetically. It was the kind of look she only gave me when I was hurting and would give 500 dinars to see when I felt good.
“So, tell him the truth,” she implored. Obviously, she didn’t know what I coward I was either.
I sat there, staring into the flames, wishing I were anyone but me, anywhere but where I was, desperate to go back and alter the last few days.
~~~~~
I was about to settle in for the night when Najara approached. Her hands we bound, but she seemed fairly comfortable with that. I’d found a strange group of friends. A fugitive who seemed to have no desire to leave her captors, a man who dressed like a warrior but clearly wasn’t, one woman who would not fight, and another woman who was all fight. I would have chuckled, but the seriousness on Najara’s face kept me from doing so.
“Arman, the D’Jinn say that I need to tell you something. A truth that everyone else here is keeping from you. It will be painful, but you must hear it, it’s about your father.”
I listened in disbelief as she told me a tale, unbelievable in its horror, about someone who in no way could be the man who sired me. After too many long, painful minutes, I’d had enough.
“I don’t believe you.” I said emphatically. “My father was a hero. He couldn’t have done the things that you say-”
“I know it’s hard to hear but it’s true,” Najara interjected, her calm voice adding fuel to the fire of my anger. “Your father had to be stopped. Joxer didn’t want to kill him but he had to.”
Now I was really angry. This must be a sick joke. “Joxer killed my father? Come on, now I know you’re lying.”
The prisoner shook her head. “Go get his pack and I’ll prove it to you.”
I did as she asked and retrieved the pack. She opened it and withdrew a dagger, one that I knew was the symbol of righteousness that my father and his compatriots wore on their armor and their shields. She wasn’t lying. Between heartbeats, my anger at her turned to rage at the inept warrior sitting at the campfire. Joxer killed my father. There was nothing for it, I had to kill him. Kryton deserved nothing less.
~~~~~
For long moments I watched the flames of the campfire; the tension and sadness palpable between the three of us. All of us were hurting in our own way. Joxer’s guilt, my frustration and jealousy, and Gabrielle’s… well I wasn’t sure what my bard was feeling. If I had to guess I would suspect she felt that I didn’t hear her. Because if only I’d heard her and had an open heart, then how could I not take a con-artist and nut case like Najara at her word?
It must have been a thousand times since we’d come across that temple that I asked myself, “Why’d it have to be Najara?” It could have been anyone else, someone we didn’t know. But no. It was her. Someone who had made herself even more appealing to Gabrielle in that she professed to be on the same path. I wasn’t fooled. I could see through her as plainly as I saw the pain on Gabrielle’s face. I was hurting too. Gabrielle’s deflection didn’t fool me. Yes, she thought that the world would be better with more people who walked the path of peace and less people like me. But there is no erasing war and violence from the world and people could only walk a path of peace in safety when there were people like me fighting off other people like me.
“It’s a lie, you know? My whole life. I’m not a warrior.” Joxer’s voice interrupted my own dark thoughts. “What kind of warrior kills somebody and has nightmares about it every night.” I ached for him.
How little he knew about having someone’s blood on your hands. “You’re not alone in feeling guilty, Joxer. It’s only natural.” If I had a dinar for every face I saw in my sleep of a life I’ve destroyed or ended, well I’d be richer than Cleopatra.
“That’s just it though,” he continued. “That’s my point, it’s not natural. I killed somebody so you know that that makes me-”
He never got to finish his thought because Arman came storming at us from the trees.
“I do,” The young man said. “That makes you the first man that I’m going to kill.” All of us were instantly on our feet as he strode forward with purpose. “How’d you do it? Najara didn’t tell me. What? Did you hit him from behind?”
I quickly moved in-between them to protect Joxer who was no match in his current state, even for this inexperienced boy. “Drop the knife, Arman,” I warned.
“Stay out of this Xena,” he shot back, angrily. “Tell me Joxer, how did a moron like you ever kill a warrior like my father?
While already pale, even more color managed to drain from our friend’s face as he stammered, “Ah…well…um…even morons get lucky sometimes.”
That was all it took. Arman shouted, “Your luck’s just run out!” and charged. I quickly flipped him onto his back. He landed with a thud, knocking the air out of him.
“I can’t let you do it Arman.”
His anger was now compounded with frustration and embarrassment. He got to his feet and tried again, this time shouting, “You killed my father!”
I knocked him down again. This time Gabrielle implored, “Let it go, Arman.”
“I can’t!” he shouted as he got up and tried a third time.
I grabbed his arm, “Give it up Arman,” I warned, losing patience.
He was losing control, and the pain, the guilt, humiliation, embarrassment, and anger were all evident on his face.
“I want vengeance,” he said in strangled gasps. I’ve seen this kind of desperation send otherwise good men into very dark places that they rarely return from alive.
“Then take it,” Gabrielle said, with an authority and seriousness that seldom colored her voice. “By letting Joxer go. He will have to live with what he’s done, and that is a fate worse than death. ‘Kryton the Courageous’ – isn’t that what you called your father? Be brave Arman. Let Joxer live.” I looked at Gabrielle, a steely determination etched on her face. The sadness and tension of the day had done as much to fray her patience as it had mine. She wasn’t kidding. Arman would need to make a choice.
“In memory of Kryton,” he said before staking off.
In disbelief, Joxer turned to Najara who had been at the edge of the scene the whole time. Staying nearly out of sight, she watched the tableau unfold, watching Gabrielle. I saw her though; I’d kept an eye on her the whole time. She may have only been able to untie the bindings at her feet but I knew she was still dangerous.
“Why Najara? Why did you tell him?” Joxer asked in equal parts disbelief and despair.
“Because Gabrielle is right,” she said in her overly soothing voice. “And everyone deserves to know the truth about someone they love.” This last bit was aimed at me, or rather at Gabrielle about me. That was always the way of it with her. I rolled my eyes, I had neither the patience or inclination to deal with her shit right now, not with Arman most likely heading out into certain danger.
“Gabrielle?” I said.
“On it,” she replied with an expression that told me Najara would regret having slipped her ropes. Joxer just nodded. He was going to stay put for once by the fire.
I followed Arman’s trail from our campsite, catching up to him shortly thereafter. I purposefully stepped on a twig so he’d turn around and see me.
“Going someplace?”
“Any place you’re not,” he replied hotly.
I sighed. This young man had so much potential. I needed to try at least one more time to get through to him.
“Well, that’s your choice. But before you make it, you might want to ask yourself who it was that Joxer really killed?” He knew the facts, maybe they just needed more time to sink in.
He replied without hesitation. “That’s easy – my father.”
I shrugged. “That’s one point of view.”
“You know another?”
This was my opportunity. “There’s always another Arman. In your dreams your father was ‘Kryton the Courageous’, but the man that Joxer killed was dirt.”
He had to see it, he had to know. I could only hope that time spent thinking about this, maybe really thinking about this would pull him back from the edge of darkness and eternal damnation.
“Arman, you don’t need that dream anymore. You’re a hundred times the man your father was.”
With that I turned around and headed to back to camp. It was up to him now, and I hope that my gut was right and that he would, upon reflection, realize he could stand taller than the fiction he’d built to take the place of an absent father. Of a man the world was better off without.
For long hours we stood there, watching Ephany’s funeral pyre; watching our friend burn. The smoke curled up towards the sky, making a triumphant entrance. Sparks and ashes danced in tendrils of night air long after the celebratory Amazon dance of mourning had stopped. At the customary time, the drummers stopped drumming, the dancers stilled. My Amazon sisters retreated to the center of the village in pairs and small groups to share stories and comfort each other. Once again, I felt equal amounts a part of something and a foreigner. I loved Ephany, Solari, and all the others who died. I knew the rites and customs of my adopted tribe because I’d taken the time to learn them, not because I was raised to have their ways as a part of my unconscious being. My soul ached with loss and sadness. I wondered if how I was feeling was how Xena felt most of the time? She was not an Amazon by birth, nor had she been officially adopted into any Amazon tribe, yet she embodied everything that the Amazons valued, much more so than I did at the moment. What good is an Amazon Queen who won’t fight? Who won’t kill to protect her family and home? Did my sisters here see me as a disappointment? As one who’d rejected their most sacred of beliefs and values?
As I watched the smoke dance, my mind raced back over the years of all the death and destruction I’d felt, witnessed, been a party to. Losing people we’d cared for, killing others who would do us harm; the unintended deaths, fighting with the gods and all manner of the unbelievable. It occurred to me that for Xena and myself, death had not been final. I began to wonder if the impossible was possible.
“Xena, have we done all we can for Ephany?”
My lover was quiet a moment, her strong arms still wrapped around me, holding me close. Long dark hair was soft against my cheek and she smelled faintly of leather, like home. I felt her stiffen a little at the question, apprehensive.
“You don’t mean the Amazon funeral?” she asked cautiously.
“I mean, that if you or I died, we wouldn’t take that as the final word. You and I have both died, we came back. We could restore…”
I could feel Xena shaking her head where it rested against mine.
“No, Gabrielle,” she said gently and firmly. “Ephany died in battle. That is how every Amazon wants to go. Fighting for something they believe in. I would not take that from her. Besides, when you deal with the gods or the fates, things always have unexpected outcomes, rarely for the better.” I sighed. I knew she was right even if I didn’t want it to be so.
“This makes me feel helpless, the fact that anyone has to die in battle leaves me hollow.” My voice sounded despondent, even to me. Xena squeezed me a little tighter, she understood but had no alternative for me.
“Our time in India,” I continued, “we’ve seen glimpses of the future. Do you think the future is set? Do you think we will we reconnect with Ephany’s soul again?”
Xena was quiet for so long that I began to wonder if she heard me or was lost in thoughts of her own. When she spoke, it was with a seriousness that illustrated how much to heart she’d taken the question. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm and measured.
“Gabrielle, since Alti gave me the vision of the two of us on Roman crosses, I’ve wondered about the future. Every waking moment it seems, I’ve wondered if there is any way around it, if the fates can be cheated, or if this is their doing at all. It occurs to me that there could be many possible futures, all threads moving in tandem and the choices we make have us skipping from one thread to another…”
“Weaving the tapestry of our lives?” I supplied and she nodded.
“If there were a possible future that does not see us crucified, Alti would have no reason to show me that.”
“Us living happily ever after? Or you becoming the mother of peace?”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “No, Alti would only share a vision that met her ends, if there is more than one vision possible. And I suppose it goes to reason that moving to the future, bringing Alti back and then fighting her, who knows, maybe that changed the future. That future became our present. Maybe I don’t become the Mother of Peace now, but become something else? We only have the tools that we have.”
I nodded absently; my attention drawn to Amarice who was watching us from across the fire. I sighed. Her face was an open scroll, jealously watching us and no doubt thinking she’d be a better companion to Xena. She was young, she didn’t know. I’d worn that face once or twice, watching Xena talk to Helen of Troy or even Callisto, as ridiculous as that now sounds.
“What of the Amazons?” I asked softly. “From once mighty nation to a scattering of tribes?”
Xena nodded, I knew this was painful for her too. “The Amazons live with the consequences of the choices they make. You make the best choice you can at the moment, and hope in time for the opportunity to regroup and change course if necessary.”
“The world changes us all,” I murmured absently.
“If you’re lucky enough to grow,” Xena whispered back. “Speaking of growing, Amarice has some of that to do.”
I nodded. It was fine if she traveled with us, and would probably do her some good.
“You will be a good teacher for her. Every Amazon needs to pass on everything they can to the next generation if we are to continue. You she will listen to, you’re the kind of Amazon she will respect, not me.”
“Gabrielle, I’m not an -”
I cut her off, she was as Amazon as I was. “Since I’ve offered a peace treaty to Cesar on behalf of the Amazons,” I continued, “he may very well decide to leave us alone now. Maybe that was enough to nudge a thread in another direction, maybe that future is changed?”
I looked up to see the indulgent eyes of my love. Yes, I could tell that she dared not hope that to be true, but wanted to indulge me anyway. She tried to force a reassuring smile.
“Maybe with Pompey out of the way he’ll have greater appreciation for Brutus and take his counsel.”
I hugged her back, and reached up to wipe her cheeks from the tears she’d shed over our friend.
“Xena, it’s not lost on me that when I feel overwhelmed you are ever a safe harbor.”
She leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Did you want to turn in? We can get started in the morning.”
I nodded. “Are you coming?”
She shook her head. “I’ll stay just a little while longer, but yeah – sleep won’t come but I should probably try.”
~~~~~
I watched the two of them for hours, trying to figure it out. Honestly it made absolutely no sense to me. As long as I’d been with the Telaquire tribe, I’d heard stories about Xena and Gabrielle. The Warrior Princess and the Amazon Bard. Xena at least had lived up to the hype. Gabrielle, however, was nothing like the stories I’d been told. She was supposed to be a village girl that had grown fearsome with a staff and knew Amazon lore better than most Amazons. At first, I’d been nervous about meeting her, fearful that she’d see my deception, know that I wasn’t a real Amazon. But it didn’t take long to realize that this – this pacifist, was nothing like the woman spoken of so reverently. The woman who had bested Velaska and earned the rite of caste from Terreis, daughter of Melosa.
To be blunt, I’d be a much better side-kick for Xena. At least I could fight and was sharp on my feet. I knew how to track and could make my own way. They stood there, arms wrapped around each other long after the dance finished, talking quietly. Yes, Gabrielle was beautiful, but there had to be something more that Xena sought in a traveling companion? How could she be with someone with no fight in her?
I picked up my cup, the wine long finished, and was disappointed that more hadn’t somehow materialized in the vessel. No one asked if I was thirsty, no one cared if I was distraught. My eyes drifted around the village. They’d taken me in without question. I presented as an Amazon, and said enough of the right things for them not to question what I was, even if I was from a tribe with different customs. But being allowed to stay somewhere and being accepted are two very different things, and while this tribe was known far and wide, it was not welcoming nor did it feel like home.
Putting my cup down I wondered if I would know what ‘home’ would feel like should I ever encounter it. My whole life felt like one long drawn-out fight. Fighting for my place, fighting for respect, just fighting. Again, my eyes were drawn to the two lovers across the fire. It was obvious to anyone who spent five minutes with them that their home was each other, that was all they needed, and while I’d heard stories of their ups and downs, here they were as one.
I shook my head. I had no desire to be with Xena. Honestly, I didn’t really desire to be with anyone. No, what I wanted was to be like Xena. Until tonight, with her arms wrapped around Gabrielle comforting her, she’d been nothing but the quiet personification of power. No one challenged her authority, no one questioned her decisions. She could fight with any weapon, on any terrain, in any circumstance. The feats of strength, dexterity and skill were legendary and from my brief interaction with her, I could see why. Sure, she was a few years older than me, (okay, a decade and a few years older than me) but still, the amount of training it must have taken to get to where she was now, it hardly seemed possible.
As I watched, she and Gabrielle had a final exchange and the bard went off to one of the huts in the village that had been vacated for their use. I had my chance. I walked over to Xena who stood staring stoically into the fire.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded, only glancing at me briefly before returning her gaze to the flames. “We’re going to leave in the morning. Gabrielle is tired, but I wanted to stay up with Ephany a bit longer before I turn in.”
~~~~~
Amarice nodded. I saw her shift uncomfortably in my peripheral vision.
“Out with it,” I requested firmly.
“I just don’t get how you’re so good…at everything.”
I shrugged. “I have many skills,” I said keeping my focus on the fire. Inwardly I asked Ephany, “Where did you find this one?”
“If you’d have been here, if you trained the Amazon –”
“–You don’t know that! Ephany, Solari all of them were skilled fighters. Some days you just get beat.”
“I bet you never get beat,” she protested.
Instinctively my tongue moved in my mouth to the place the tooth been, knocked out courtesy of Najara. “You’d lose that bet.”
“But you’re such a good fighter…”
I sighed and looked down at Amarice. She was so young. Impossibly young. It made me remember when I was that young and headstrong. Convinced I had it all figured out. That if only everyone around me would do exactly what I said, everything would be fine. From beyond the fire and smoke, I could almost feel Ephany smiling at me. “This Xena, is your penance,” she would have said.
“There is more to life than fighting,” I groused.
“That sounds like Gabrielle. Amazons were being enslaved. You can’t hug your way out of that.”
I turned on her angrily. “Look, I get that you don’t understand Gabrielle. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have either. But I respect the path she’s chosen, and she has more than earned that deference of every Amazon here, including you.”
“She is turning her back on the ways of her own people,” she tried again, desperate to have me agree with her.
“No,” I replied calmly, reigning in my anger. “She is expanding the ways of her people. You might not like it, and that’s fine. But by Gabrielle sending a peace treaty to Cesar, she is adding one more arrow in the quiver of possibilities. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t, but only a foolish fighter would not take advantage of every strategic possibility that you can create for yourself.”
Amarice nodded, considering my words. “Ephany always spoke highly of you both. Can you tell me why Gabrielle turned her back on the ways of the Amazon? Was it not enough for her or something?”
If Amarice was trying for sarcasm if fell short of the mark. It took but a glance to see that it was her inexperience talking. Gabrielle represented something she wanted: a place in a tribe, and a place with me, perhaps. All over her face was the endless fight to be someone, to fit in, acceptance. I suppose it followed that she saw Gabrielle as throwing that acceptance away.
“It’s not my place to tell you everything that Gabrielle has been through. Suffice it to say, she’s seen more and been through more than you could possibly imagine. You or I might see one path laid out before us, we can move towards the light on that path or the dark, but the path is the same. Gabrielle doesn’t have it so easy. She sees a multitude of paths before her. A million possibilities, so many chances to make the wrong or right choice. She doesn’t want to be just one thing. Being an Amazon doesn’t define who she is, but she can expand on the definition of what it means to be Amazon.”
“So, you’re saying I just have to ‘go with it’?” she asked, smirking.
“Only if you want to travel with us.” I smiled.
“I’d like to sit under a waterfall for about a hundred years,” Gabrielle said, shifting her weight to be more comfortable.
“We’re just outside Thessaly, not far from the hot springs of Loutra Pozar,” I mentioned, enjoying the blush to her cheeks at the mention of the diverting day and night we’d spent there a year ago. “Though I wouldn’t suggest swimming until that shoulder heals.”
“Yes, well,” Gabrielle replied giving me look. “I’d be more than happy to go back there when I have full use of my arms.”
“I second that!” I murmured quietly returning to my work on our campfire. I glanced up and saw my bard’s expression a million legions away.
“Is it Ares?” Gabrielle turned to face me and it was almost as if she was seeing me for the first time.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“I’m only now realizing what it is to have Ares notice you. I feel filthy. I… I…” Her gaze traveled to the fire and I felt lost.
“Tell me,” I urged. She took a deep breath and turned back. I could see the reflection of the flames in her green eyes, the eyes of the woman I would literally go to hell and back for.
“When I picked up the sai and started working with them,” she began. “Much like my work with the staff or fighting or whatever – I did it to be useful, to keep us safe, but also to have you notice me, not Ares.”
“Gabrielle,” I protested. “I do notice you.”
She smiled, albeit bashfully. “And I don’t ever want you to stop. “But Ares,” she shuddered reflexively and I knew exactly what she was feeling. “To have the God of War’s gaze land on you like that. It feels creepy, unclean, like my skin is crawling.”
I nodded. “A lot different than having the Goddess of Love’s gaze land on you,”
“What? Yeah, well…maybe.” She conceded, blushing in spite of herself. I smiled. How could Aphrodite not see what was very evident to me?
“There was something Mavican said,” she continued, changing the subject, “about the differences between us and the Gods. Almost as if it was some quirk of nature. I think there has to be more to it than that.”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Honestly, I try to think of the Gods as little as possible.” I looked over at my companion and decided to voice something that had been nagging at me all day.
“Ares wondered if I even know who you are anymore. I wanted to tell him that he’s crazy, that of course I know who you are but after today I feel I’ve fallen short. And for that Gabrielle, I am sorry.”
She smiled at me; a gentle, loving, understanding smile, and I felt even worse that I’d overlooked so much.
“Xena, I’m a lot to keep track of. I know that I’ve changed so much in these last years. Trying to be peaceful, deciding that didn’t work for me, trying to square what I want to be with what I need to be. We’ve been through a lot, you and I. Dying, fighting demons, angels…” She shrugged.
“You always know who I am Gabrielle. You never lose track of exactly who I am! Honestly, I feel like you know me better than I know myself.”
She chuckled. “I would agree with you there.” I must have averted my eyes, or looked wounded because she added, “Come here.”
She was sitting with her back propped up against a tree, legs outstretched towards the fire. I shifted to the bedroll next to her, laying down and resting my head in her lap. She absently stroked my hair. I’d have been content to stay there forever.
“Xena, I know who you are because to me you have been the love of my life since the day I met you. You’ve consistently stayed true to your nature and your path and you’ve never stopped trying to be the best version of the warrior that you are. You’d found yourself, my love, long before I met you, and you are just honing that person. Whereas me, I’m a bard, no – I’m an Amazon – no I follow the path of peace – no I slaughter Roman Centurions.”
“You did that to protect me,” I reminded her. “Besides, you’re giving me an out.”
“Maybe. That’s love for ya.”
I rolled onto my back so I could look up into her face. “I always want to be worthy of that love, Gabrielle.”
She smiled again and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “That’s something else you’ve been very consistent about,” she murmured.
I couldn’t help but smile at that. There was something so blissful about this moment, resting there, Gabrielle gently touching my head. It was grounding me, like an oasis of something that made sense. So much of what had befallen us lately was beyond reality. Angels, demons, Callisto, a new chakram…I was grateful that Gabrielle knew me better than I knew myself because I felt that knowledge safer with her than me.
While Gabrielle pictured my path as a straight line, with one end towards light and the other leading towards darkness, I felt it an imperfect switchback of attempts and failures, always striving towards something but without efficiency. On the other hand, she saw her path as a random maze of changes and dead ends where I saw it as a pyramid. Many possibilities, many abilities, all journeying upward towards the best combination of assets.
“Kind of weird sharing one body again, eh?” I asked. I’d closed my eyes and was simply enjoying the touch of my lover’s hand on my hair. I opened one eye and as I suspected, Gabrielle was looking up at the stars, no doubt contemplating her place in the universe.
“Actually, having shared a consciousness, I prefer to have access to your thoughts and memories, it makes me feel less alone. This thing was just a dick move by Ares. Very smart of you to leave me a note on that staff, by the way. You know me better than you think you do.”
~~~~~
I looked down at Xena’s face and wondered what she was thinking. Her eyes were closed in contentment. Rarely did she let her hedonistic tendencies show, but with me she felt safe. That was probably the biggest gift we gave to each other: A safe harbor.
“I try to puzzle it out, Gabrielle. What actual strategy goes into the mind games Ares plays with us.”
“Or Aphrodite for that matter?” I asked.
“Yeah, her too, and often as not, I come up blank.” I could feel her shrug against my legs. “I saw Mavican talk to you. Her obsession with being remembered by people who aren’t even born yet. She had a point though; you are the one who can turn ordinary people into legends.”
I chuckled at that. “Xena, you are hardly ordinary. I did find it strange though. She wanted to know what it was like to be with you, but not in the way that I’d generally expect. She wanted to know what it was like to turn the tables on the fates, to live the kind of adventure that makes for epic remembrances, ‘a brush with eternity’ she called it.”
Xena nodded in understanding. “That was how I knew to close us up in the cave. Her fight was about performance. Separate a narcissist from their audience and they aren’t left with much.”
“Like Najara,” I agreed sadly. “But like you, Mavican was only a prop in this. She may have thought she was working to her own ends, but it’s always Ares pulling the strings.”
“I wish I knew what his motivations were.”
“Ares is simple,” I soothed. “He’s in love with you. Having some expertise on this subject, I can attest that all his moves are about getting you back, or in this case, about making you jealous.”
“Yeah, well,” she replied, dismissively.
“Xena,” I teased.
“Okay, maybe,” she allowed. “It isn’t that I was jealous of Ares noticing you. I was jealous of you noticing him. Of Ares seeing something in you that I missed and you responding to it.”
I nodded and looked up at the stars once again. Glancing down, seeing Xena’s head in my lap, I was transported again to the moments before our crucifixion when I knew that every step I’d taken with this woman had meaning and was precious. None of it wasted, not the good times, not the bad times. All of it made a life with the two of us intertwined, so much so that we could share a consciousness and best Ares in his realm as one person.
“You know that story I sometimes tell about people once having two heads and four legs – and their souls being split by lightning bolts?”
“Yeah?”
“Having found the other half of my soul, there is nothing Ares could say or do that would tear me away from her again,” I said, gently brushing a stray hair from her forehead.
She smiled; a grin that went from genuinely moved to mischievous in the space between heartbeats. “What about Aphrodite?” she asked.
I chuckled; two could play this game. “I dunno. She is kinda hot.”
We’d paused at mid-day on the cliffs of Perintus, overlooking the ocean. As we watched Joxer head back toward the harbor, I felt guilty.
“He doesn’t want to camp with us,” I commented as we mounted our horses and walked down the path.
“Gabrielle,” Xena said gently, “he’s still hurting. Give him time. I’m sure it bothered him that you and Lin Chi got on so well.”
I rolled my eyes, frustrated. “Joxer has traveled with us for years,” I protested. “Your mother knew what was between us in a heartbeat, how could he not notice? Besides, there was nothing with Lin Chi, he was a nice man!” I shrugged helplessly.
“People in love have an amazing ability to ignore things that don’t suit their heart’s world view.”
“Look who’s the oracle of Aphrodite now,” I chuckled under my breath. “Pregnancy is having a mellowing effect.” That earned me a stern look then a smile as Xena led Argo down an offshoot path on the trail we were following.
“It doesn’t take an Oracle to see that Lin Chi was interested, however, he picked up on your unavailability quicker than our friend. Joxer will come around. His pride is wounded, he’ll recover.”
“You know that Lin Chi asked me if I ever wanted to settle down?” I mentioned as we made our way down the trail.
Looking over at me, her expression concerned she asked, “What did you say?”
I smiled at her. “I told him that home doesn’t have to be a place, it can be a person. And that I’ve found mine.”
Xena smiled, the kind of smile that could brighten the darkest of days. “If we ride quickly, we can get a room before nightfall,” she said over her shoulder, urging Argo forward.
I suspected where we were headed and urged Titus to keep pace. He had no trouble keeping up with Xena’s mare.
“How are you feeling?” I asked wanting to change the subject. The journey from Chin hadn’t been terribly arduous, but I knew our adventures there had taken a toll on my love.
“I’m feel fine. That doesn’t mean I’m not looking forward to a soft bed tonight if we can find one.”
“Still no sense of Lao Ma’s power?”
She shook her head. “No, which probably isn’t a bad thing.”
“Bigger powers make one a bigger target?”
She nodded. “Something like that. I don’t think Greece needs a smattering of terracotta warriors everywhere we go. It’s interesting though,” she continued, “that feeling of oneness, that feeling of love, compassion, it stays with you even when the outright power fades. Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”
She looked at me and smiled. “Gabrielle, you are my strength and my courage.”
I smiled back. I wouldn’t press the point, but while still fearsome and completely capable, pregnancy did have a mellowing on my warrior.
“I’m feeling a bit of a fool for having written off the power of love to defeat armies.”
She shook her head. adamantly. “No, Gabrielle. I’m sure I don’t say this enough, but watching your growth, watching you fearlessly explore new possibilities, it makes me consider new possibilities myself. In spite of all Lao Ma taught me, I don’t think I would have really believed in the power of love had I not witnessed you walking that path.”
“Were you and Lao Ma lovers for very long?” I asked conversationally, not wanting to be the topic of conversation at the moment.
She shook her head. “No, and to be honest, I think we became lovers because she realized that with who I was at the time, that was the best way to reach me. I’m not saying that she didn’t genuinely care for me, or I her, as much as I could care about anyone at that time, but it was more about getting through to me.”
“You can be hard headed,” I muttered.
“Hey now!”
“So,” I prodded, “how’d it happen?”
She looked over at me with a familiar smirk. “You know how I get at a hot tub or hot springs or…?”
“Any nice body of water?” I supplied with a laugh.
“Yeah, something like that. It was at her palace, after she’d mended my legs. We were relaxing in the heated bath. I initiated, she let me. I didn’t know at the time how easily she could have stopped me if she wanted to. Only now, after what we’ve just experienced fighting Pao Su and Ming T’ien do I understand the awesome power that Lao Ma possessed. ‘To the mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders’. She fixed broken bones, and healed muscles and torn tendons with the power of her mind.”
“And fixed a broken soul with the power of her heart?” I supplied.
Xena looked down at the trail, unable to meet my eyes. “Unfortunately, my body was easier to heal than my soul,” she said before looking back at me.
“Still,” I pushed back gently, “she gave you a glimpse of what could be yours, a life you could have. Had you not had that seed planted, you might not have been able to take advantage of the hope Hercules extended to you when he came along.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed. We rode some distance in companionable silence and before the sun set, we were standing outside a familiar Inn.
“Xena! Gabrielle!” Rastus called and waved as he saw our approach. The young man’s eyes lit up. He’d been unloading a small cart of food stuffs for the inn as we’d arrived.
“Zoe! Look who’s here!”
His sister stepped outside and smiled as well. “Welcome back,” she said then her eyes widened at Xena’s enhanced girth.
“I’m glad to see the two of you looking healthier than the last time.”
“Long story,” I said with a nod to Xena as we handed the reigns of our horses to her brother.
“Come inside.”
“I’ve got this,” Rastus proclaimed proudly as he led our horses away.
We entered the familiar inn which was quite full at this evening hour.
“Do you have a room?” Xena asked, sounding worried. Zoe offered us a table off to the side near the hearth – one of the last tables available.
“I’ve got two rooms left, take your pick. Upstairs, second door on the left and the one next to it,” Zoe said, giving me an approving glance. “I’m not sure which one of you has changed the most.”
I smiled, my hand reflexively going to the nape of my neck and shorter hair. “Well, we’ve had a few adventures.”
Zoe smiled. “Let me get you something to eat, and then maybe you’ll grace us with a story of your adventures this evening.”
~~~~~
As soon as she spoke, I saw the expression on Gabrielle’s face change.
“What is it?” I asked, concerned. Before she could answer, Zoe brought over a tray laden with food. Red mullet and tuna as well as fresh baked bread, cheese, olives, grapes, figs and sweet cakes. She brought us wine and left the bottle on the table.
“Zoe, this is too much!” I protested.
She shook her head, dismissively. “You’re eating for two, don’t argue.”
We smiled in thanks and had begun to tuck in when Rastus returned from the barn and joined us at our table.
“Gabrielle, I like your horse,” he said approvingly, taking as seat. “He seems to be fond of Argo. I put them together in the largest stall with some grain and grass, is that alright? Fresh water too.”
“That’s perfect, Rastus, thank you,” I said.
“And I brushed them down,” he added proudly.
Zoe brought her brother an additional plate and he enthusiastically tucked into his dinner. “I caught these today,” he announced proudly indicating the fish. “The trick with the bait that you showed me Xena really worked!”
Gabrielle smiled at what I’m sure was the look of pride and affection on my face. In all our travels, the way that our lives intersected with the lives of other people never failed to amaze me. I reached for Gabrielle’s bag and rummaged inside. We’d done a fair amount of trading on our way back from Chin and I found a small jade statue, a horse carved from a single stone.
“We’d like you to have this,” I said, setting the trinket in front of him. Gabrielle nodded with approval.
His large eyes widened with pleasure and gratitude as he carefully picked up the carving. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Xena,” he whispered in awe.
“Gabrielle, are you going to tell stories tonight?” he asked Gabrielle earnestly. Again, my bard looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t know Rastus. It’s been a long time since I’ve told stories. I almost feel like that was a ‘me’ from lifetime ago.”
“Well technically…”
Gabrielle gave me a stern look, and the young man looked confused.
“Weren’t there people around who wanted to hear the stories you tell?” he asked.
Gabrielle smiled. “You know there were, but I was focused on things other than story telling.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Sometimes when I start fishing, I find it hard to think about anything else.”
When all of the guests had been tended to, Zoe took a moment to join us at the table with a cup of wine, helping herself to the last few vegetables and bits of fish on her brother’s plate. I noticed that he’d left several of the choicest bites of fish uneaten, and understood why.
“We have dinars for a room, but we want you to have this too.” Gabrielle said as she extracted a silk cloth from her bag and presented it to Zoe.
“Blessed Aphrodite,” Zoe whispered. “This is beautiful.” She looked from Gabrielle to me disbelievingly, “It’s too much, and your dinars are no good to me. Since your last visit, I can’t tell you how much things have been better for us. But wherever did you get this?” she asked, indicating the colorfully woven fabric.
“Like I said,” Gabrielle explained, “We’ve been traveling. India, Chin…”
“Gabrielle is worried about telling a story tonight,” Rastus broke in. “She feels rusty.”
“Hey now,” Gabrielle shot back with a chuckle, “I didn’t say that.”
The three of us looked at her expectantly.
“Okay, maybe a little rusty. I feel that I’ve changed so much since the last time we were here,” she explained. I felt the life growing inside of me shift and I had to agree with the sentiment.
“Sometimes it’s good to be reminded of where you came from,” Rastus suggested helpfully, “to appreciate how far you’ve come.”
She looked at him and smiled. In that moment, with that look of kindness and understanding had me falling for Gabrielle all over again.
“You’re right Rastus,” she agreed. Standing, she tousled his hair and made her way to the hearth. Immediately, a hush fell upon the room and several men quieted their companions who didn’t know they were about to be graced with a story from Gabrielle of Potidaea.
I watched Gabrielle and could not be prouder of the woman who had chosen to share her life’s journey with me. She spoke of the places we’d been and the people we’d met. The flavors and customs of far-flung places like India and Chin; places most of the people who were with us tonight would never see. She brought those places alive for an evening, from the spice of a curry to the vastness of Chin’s great wall. She didn’t talk about heroes or battles per se; her themes were about the struggles people have the world over, and that much more unites us than divides us. That people in places we can’t even imagine still love their children, still want what’s best for their families, delight in a sunset, enjoy sweets. She spoke of Eli and the power of love and how that power transcended into the realm of Lao Ma; that love was universal.
As she talked, I thought about the life growing in me and how different that felt this time around. I was not dreading the birth of my child or worried as to how to protect it in a sea of warlords and villains. I was not trapped in a constant state of cat-and-mouse with the sire of this baby. No, I had a partner, a soul-mate to share this journey with and raise this child.
Unbidden, the faces of so many people came to my consciousness. Mother, Joxer, Autolycus, Hercules, the Amazons, the brother and sister sitting at the table with me – all of the people we’d met in our travels and on our journeys. We had extended family everywhere, and in some sense, the world was our home because Gabrielle and I traveled it together.
Perhaps it was the pregnancy, but I felt a stirring in me, a stirring I’d not felt in some weeks. I caught Gabrielle’s eye over the cup of my wine and I’m sure it was all right there on my face. I saw the color rise to her cheeks and she nearly forgot where she was in her story. I smirked at her.
Yes, we were both looking forward to that soft bed, and this time, I was grateful that we were going to be on the second floor, well out of earshot of our hosts. As for our potential neighbors in the room next door, tonight it was fine with me for them to be jealous.
I stood in the doorway to the kitchen and watched for long moments as mother held Eve. She cuddled and cooed like the proudest of grandmothers.
“Say Nana, say Nana” she repeated, knowing full well that Eve wasn’t old enough yet to start talking. The inn’s dining hall was mostly empty at this late hour. There was a table of four men celebrating the life of a fallen warrior in today’s battle, but that was about it.
“I’ll bet this is a sight you never thought you’d see,” Gabrielle murmured at my shoulder, joining me in the doorway. She wrapped her arm around my waist.
I couldn’t help but smile. “I can say that I did not.”
“Your mother is a natural with kids.” Gabrielle added, “The dishes are finished and put away. You should sit, have some mead and enjoy the quiet before we turn in. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of Athena, so let’s enjoy the respite while we can.”
I nodded absently and followed my bard into the dining hall by the hearth. Mother smiled up at me, happier than I recall ever seeing her.
“Eve is a treasure. What a well-behaved little girl. Are you sure she’s yours?” Gabrielle chuckled at that.
“How long do you think Athena will mourn Elanis?” Gabrielle asked.
“That’s hard to say,” I replied, shaking my head. “But when she returns, she’ll be doubly angry.”
My mother shook her head, annoyed. “I don’t see why Athena would attack you here. Amphipolis has always been very loyal to both Ares and Athena. This city has prospered under her patronage. How can she think one little baby can undo all of that?” She cooed again at my daughter, “How could she, you’re so cute. Look at those cheeks!”
Gabrielle looked at my mother affectionately then turned to me; her expression serious. “It’s not a baby she fears, but who she will grow into,” she murmured and I knew that Hope’s face flashed in her mind. “Athena just thinks that killing Eve as a baby will be easier than waiting until she’s full grown. And she isn’t wrong.”
My mother sill wasn’t convinced. “But how can one person take our gods away? If people want to follow the way of Eli, so be it. If they want to stick with tradition, then fine. Why are people so silly about the gods?”
“Unfortunately, the Gods are more insecure than that,” I replied. “Eli’s God wants the Age of Olympians to end, and the Olympians are understandably not happy about that. It would be nice if they could all just handle some friendly competition.”
“Here dear,” Mother said, passing Eve to me, “I think she’s hungry.”
Cradling my daughter, I nodded to Gabrielle who loosened my leathers enough for me to shift a breast for feeding, having already removed my breast plate and bracers before dinner. As my daughter suckled, I enjoyed the now familiar feeling of intimacy and connection; an almost dreamlike state of contentment. For the moment, for this very minute, all was well in my world. My family was safe, there were no battles to fight, my universe was small and complete.
The four men at the far side of the dining room stood, setting their tankards down with a dull thud. They were drunk, but not unpleasantly so. Two were sporting arm bandages and slings, evidence of today’s fighting. The third and eldest had crutches.
“We’re off, thank you Cyrene!” the older man called out.
“A good night to you Aegeus,” my mother replied. “Again, I’m sorry about Marcus.”
“Marcus?” I asked, the name sparking a memory of my Marcus.
“My eldest son died today,” Aegeus explained. “These are my other three boys, Kaapo, Obasi and Aatami.” As he spoke, each young man nodded his head.
“I am sorry you lost your son,” Gabrielle said, her voice heavy with sadness. “They were fighting on the field with me,” she explained, turning to me.
At her words, Aegeus swayed slightly and shook his head. “Don’t you apologize for anything Gabrielle,” he said emphatically, his words slurring slightly as he was steadied by two of his sons. “Mistress, you did well today, you served Amphipolis proud. We were outnumbered ten to one, and you held that line.” His boys nodded in agreement as the father swayed again.
“What my father means is,” Obasi cut in, clearly the least drunk of the group, “is that your leadership saved many more than we dared could have hoped.”
Aegeus nodded in confirmation. “A good day fighting, mistress,” he echoed again with a respectful nod. “No shame in my boy meeting Charon having died in battle defending an innocent.”
Aegeus smiled at Eve; his toothless grin most endearing. He shuffled over to get a better look at my child as she nursed. Gently, reverently, he kissed his fingertips and touched my daughter’s forehead.
“Listen here my little lady,” he whispered, “no disrespect to your mother, but you follow the example of Gabrielle and you’ll be alright.”
His boys looked nervously at me and tried to bustle him out of the inn.
“Come on papa, that’s enough for now,” Kaapo said, shooting me an apologetic glance.
As they passed us, Atami reached out his uninjured hand and touched Gabrielle’s shoulder. “Much respect mistress. A good day fighting,”
“A good day fighting,” Gabrielle repeated, looking down demurely and surprised at the praise.
“You did really well today,” I echoed as the door closed behind the men.
Gabrielle smiled. “I don’t fancy myself a general just yet. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’ve picked up a thing or two these last few years.”
Once again, I was struck by the changes I’d seen in my companion. While I loved every incarnation of Gabrielle, the bard, the Amazon princess, the pacifist, and the warrior, I had to acknowledge that each of these stages had built on who she was before. She’d never have survived as an Amazon princess had she not been a good storyteller. She would not be the fighter that she is today had she not spent the time and energy to meditate on how precious life is. Her ability to think on her feet, born of storytelling in front of a group, made her strategically nimble on the battlefield. With training, Gabrielle had the potential to exceed my ability at almost anything. I’d long since stopped trying to take credit or blame for the choices Gabrielle made in standing by my side. Ares might want me to leave her, and be foolish enough to ask, but that was out of the question.
Eve finished her meal and was ready for slumber. I wiped her face and handed her to my bard before readjusting my leathers.
“I can go put her down,” Gabrielle offered, looking lovingly in Eve’s face. “Come to bed whenever you’re ready.” She smiled at mother and me, offering us some time to connect, one on one. I watched her disappear into the room we’d be sharing and sipped my mead thoughtfully.
~~~~~
“And here I never thought I’d be a grandmother,” I chided playfully as Xena and I watched Gabrielle retire with Eve.
“Yeah, I’m full of surprises.” Xena chuckled.
While I was not looking forward to the conversation, I needed to get something off my chest. With only the two of us by the hearth, I decided that it was now or never.
“Dear,” I began cautiously, “I have no doubt that you…felt…something today with your encounter with Ares. But you must know, I don’t know that he isn’t your father.”
Xena’s expression darkened so I rushed on before losing my nerve. “The Furies said that Ares sometimes impersonated his warriors to be with their wives. As I’d told you before, your father appeared home one night from battle, and was gone again by morning.”
“I know that you’ve no way to know one way or the other,” she said, flatly. “If Ares said ‘yes’ or ‘no’ there would be a good chance that he was lying either way because that is who he is.” She smiled sadly. “This afternoon, I was executing a strategy to protect Eve, nothing more.”
“I know that Xena, and I don’t doubt your love for Gabrielle for a moment, but Gods have a way of getting under the skin of mortals. They can manipulate us often in ways that we can’t predict, and their morality is not the same as ours.”
“Whereas me being his daughter would not be a deal-breaker for Ares?” Xena suggested. I winced at the words.
“No, it wouldn’t be. Whether you are or aren’t his child, certainly he remembers your devotion from your…dark days. He craves that above all. That is my fear. He will not stop in his quest of using you, Gabrielle, or your child to get what he wants. Personally, I’m happy with our Olympian gods. I think the God of Eli is fine too, but then, I am a ‘live and let live’ kind of person. As for you, my dear, Ares has very clear designs on you.”
Xena nodded and smiled reassuringly at me, although I wasn’t fooled for a moment. Today had rattled her and it was not like my daughter to get rattled.
“Mother, I’ve found my path, I have no intention of leaving it.”
“Are you worried about Gabrielle?” I asked, noting her grateful expression when I changed the subject.
“How do you mean?”
“What we just saw tonight. There was a time, and I remember it well, when you’d just turned back the assault of Cortez and you received similar praise. You went down a very dark road. Are you worried that Gabrielle may be more like you than you’d want?” I asked gently.
Xena shook her head and smiled. “That, mother, is the last thing I’m worried about. Gabrielle is less reactive than me, she’s more contemplative. She actually considers the consequences of her actions before she does something. If anything, she’s going to be a lot better than me.”
“That, my love, is your heart talking. You and Gabrielle bring out the best in each other. That is why you are a partnership that even the God’s fear. What will you do next?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t want to wear out my welcome in Amphipolis. I’m heartened beyond measure that the town stood up for me and Eve today. There was a time when they wouldn’t have. I’m also grateful that Gabrielle has won their respect.”
I ached at those words. I knew she was right. For many years I’d been a pariah myself as the mother of The Warrior Princess. I’d decided long ago to let Xena live her own life, there was no reason to tell her that my fortunes increased or decreased with her choices.
“What is in the past is in the past,” I told her. “Like that story about the rock and the lake I told you when you were young. You need to make the choices now that are best for your family. You, Gabrielle and Eve; the rest will sort itself out in due time.”
“Mother, you should have been an oracle,” she teased as she stood to join her bard and her baby. She hugged me and kissed the top of my head. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed, grateful I’ve lived long enough to see my daughter finally come into her own and truly happy. For however long this would last, until once again she felt the heat of a past she’d never out-maneuver, I was glad she had this contentment.
~~~~~
I was in the middle of a yoga pose as Xena entered the bedroom. Eve had been ready for sleep since the moment I put her down so she was quiet and content in a cradle a neighbor had brought over for our use. Xena waited until I finished and relaxed my pose before speaking.
“All good with Eve?” she inquired, gazing at Eve adoringly. I nodded and moved behind her to untie her leathers.
“You and your mother had a heart-to-heart?”
She rolled her eyes. “The gist of her message was ‘now dear, don’t fuck your potential father’, if you can believe it.”
“Ew.”
I had responded automatically and she looked wounded. I moved to sit on the bed and urged her to sit next to me on the bed while I responded more fully.
“You felt something. If it’s the truth, you can tell me. I know what it’s like when Ares is throwing his godly powers at you.”
Xena shrugged helplessly. I knew that if it were anyone but me, they might not have gotten the truth or the difficult conversation that was to follow.
“Yes, I did feel something. I just don’t know if I can articulate exactly what that feeling was.” I gave her a smile and an arched eyebrow to suggest that she continue.
“Besides, being turned on, obviously. What I mean is, I feel a connection to Ares. It’s a pull, an…I don’t know…”
“The Gods do stuff to us, and Ares has been in love with you forever. To be blunt, I’m surprised you’re as clear-headed around him as you are.”
“And if the explosion hadn’t happened when it did?”
“We would cope with whatever would have come to pass,” I replied, slipping into bed and motioning for her to follow suit.
“I know that you and Ares have a connection, I try really hard not to be threatened by it. Who you were and who you are now are two very different things. I don’t lose sight of that but Ares does.”
Xena made herself comfortable and invited me to snuggle close, which I did gratefully.
“I worry we haven’t seen the last dirty tricks from the Gods where Eve is concerned.”
I nodded, my head resting comfortably on a very familiar shoulder.
“Whatever they throw at us we’ll figure it out.”
“About that Gabrielle,” Xena replied with an affectionate squeeze. “Those men tonight weren’t wrong. You can lead armies. You can fight, you can think on your feet, strategize… Ares himself has taken notice. Do you realize that you can do all of the things that I can do without the darkness?”
I knew that Xena was trying to be sincere in paying me the compliment. I just wasn’t in the frame of mind to accept it. When we’d first started traveling together Xena seemed more than human to me. I idolized her, I thought her the most enigmatic, exotic, explanation-defying creature I’d ever encountered. No doubt I put her on a pedestal. And yet, over the years I felt as though I continued to look up to her and look her in the eye at the same time. While I’ll admit I’m more than the girl who ran away from Potidaea, I wasn’t ready to be Xena’s equal.
“I am grateful that the position of Warrior Princess is already filled and not seeking applicants.”
Xena was quiet a moment before murmuring, “To best all of Olympus, it very well may take the two of us as Warrior Princesses. The world over Gabrielle, I’d rather have you fighting at my side than anyone else.”
“Including Ulysses?” I teased.