Chapter 1
Gabrielle entered the temple, weary and crestfallen. Her tan leathers dirty and worn with age. A sword guard clinked off the belt rings that held its half scabbard to her left hip and only one of her sai remained in its boot loops. The other long since broken and shed performing her tasks. She drudged her way to the steps that led to the altar at the far end of the temple. The scuffs almost echoing about the large stone hall. She ignored the rows of wooden bench seats that ran along each side of the hall, as if funnelling her in to a passageway to the altar. She let her empty gaze wander from left to right, taking in the font and some book shelves filled with holy scriptures. The scrolls all neatly rolled and tucked away in their place. Candles in their tall holders gave out what little light they could, flickering shadows off the walls and bench seats. Incense burners hung by chains from the walls, long extinguished with no service being held that day. She rolled her head feeling the stiffness in her neck and shoulders and moaned. Her arms hung limp at her sides, hands bouncing off her thighs as she walked.
Now at the altar steps she stopped and bowed her head. Here in this position she paused, head down and eyes closed. She breathed in deeply and held it. Slowly lifting her head she now opened her eyes and released the breath. Candles on the altar glimmered off of several religious artefacts and cast shadows on the white cloth covering the altar stone.
“I can’t do this.” She whispered. Her fatigue, both physical and emotional, showing in her voice. Her chest heaved as she took another breath and slowly lowered herself to her knees. “I can’t do this anymore.” She said louder to the altar.
Her head tilted and her face broke in to a look of despair. “I have tried. I have tried so hard for so long.” She choked the words out. Her hands lifted slightly from her sides palms up in entreaty to whomever she thought may be listening to her. Only silence responded to her words. She clenched her fists as her frustration surfaced.
“I cannot do this.” She emphasised her words. “Where there was weakness I brought your sword, where there was ignorance I taught your word, where there was arrogance I revealed humility. Just as you wanted me too. Just as Xena would have wanted me too.” She was now pleading and angry. “It’s been nearly twenty-five years. I have done everything you asked of me. I’m getting too old and too tired. I can’t do this alone.” She pulled her sword from its small half scabbard and discarded it, hearing it clatter on the ground behind her. She then lowered her hands to the steps and leaned heavily on them. Her blonde hair touched her shoulders and fell passed her face, long again since being uncut during months on the road. Slowly and gently she rolled from her position and lay on her side upon the altar steps in a kind of foetal way. Her hands out before her at half an arm’s length rest on the floor, her legs bent at the knees, one on top of the other. She lay her head to the steps and closed her eyes again. She exhaled her next breath sounding as if she were going to begin weeping. “I need Xena.” She whispered softly. Inhaling deeply she let her exhaustion push her in to sleep.
“It would appear our friend is having difficulty.” Said Callisto mildly. The image of the sleeping blonde on the altar steps before her rippled in the font water.
Eli moved to be with her at the font and looked in at the image conjured by Callisto. “That may be, but every person’s life has struggle within it.” Eli looked at Callisto. “If we were to intervene every time a person struggled would they not become dependent and have no sense of who they are?”
“Perhaps.” Reasoned Callisto. “Though she has never once wavered in her service to ours or Xenas teachings. And she has never once asked us for anything during her service.”
“What people ask for in their prayers is heeded every day.” Eli fixed his eyes on the sleeping Gabrielle. “When they do not get what they pray for it is not intended as a cruelty, Callisto, but a test of faith, you know that.”
“But seeing one so devoted suffer in our service, does that not imply a selfish cruelty on our part?” She looked sideways at Eli still observing Gabrielle. “Surely to end the suffering Gabrielle now endures would be an act of compassion not dependency?”
“We must show faith in them as they must show faith in us, Callisto.” Eli placed a hand on her shoulder and walked away.
“I do have faith, Eli, but it would seem Gabrielles is running short.” She said in a matter-of-fact way. She watched as Eli turned to look at her. “When I see her suffer as she does now, robbed of everything she lived for, of Xena, and now feeling abandoned by those she serves, us, it is not a question of faith, but a need for compassion for someone in suffering.”
“We shall see.” Replied Eli gently and he left Callisto to her vigil over Gabrielle.
The priest gently shook Gabrielle by the shoulder. She moaned but did not immediately wake form her slumber. He shook slightly harder on her shoulder.
“Gabrielle?” He held his hand on her as he spoke trying to wake her. “Gabrielle?”
Moaning softly and moving her head just as slowly Gabrielle started to wake up. Her eyes flicked open and closed repeatedly in the now sunlight filled hall. She turned her head and squinted to see who it was talking to her.
“Gabrielle?” Said the soft voice again.
Gabrielle moved from her foetal position and made to sit up, moving herself backwards slowly as the priest removed his hand from her shoulder. She rubbed her eyes and breathed deeply and yawned. She quickly placed a hand over her open mouth to stifle the action.
“Sorry.” She said and smiled weakly at the priest watching her, now standing with his arms folded across his chest. “What time is it?” She asked quietly.
“Almost midday.” Replied the priest. “You were so exhausted when you returned last night you didn’t even acknowledge the gatekeeper.” He went on. “You simply came in here, removed your sword, we heard you pray briefly, and then assumed you slept.”
“I-I’m sorry.” She said as she moved across the floor to retrieve he weapon. Grabbing the cold leather-bound handle she stood up and slipped the sword back in to its half scabbard. The blade length sliding through to be revealed on the other end, glinting sunlight from it surface.
“No need to apologise Gabrielle.” Said the priest. “We know you converse with the servants of the one true God in a way that we do not and do the work they ask that we cannot.”
Gabrielle ran her fingers through her hair, shaking the blonde strands as she did so. “I wish that were true. It feels like I’m talking to myself a lot lately.” And she smiled to stop the sting of the disgruntled comment being aimed at the priest.
“Come, I’ve had some food prepared for you. Once you’ve eaten you can freshen for the day.” Said the priest and he moved aside and raised a hand to indicate she go with him. Slowly they strolled the gap between the bench seating. “It sounds as though you doubt in your faith, or perhaps that of another’s in you?” He queried.
She smiled slightly. “If I’m to be honest I don’t know any more.” She silenced the rattling sword at her side by placing her hand on its pommel and walked form the temple in to the day light. She squinted again as she left the temples dimness and paused in the doorway. Pulling her head aside involuntarily as she did so, and her hand went up to block the bright sun. In front of her the priest stopped and waited patiently for her to adjust. Gabrielle realised she was holding up their walk to the dining area where food had been prepared for her. Gingerly she stepped from the doorway and in to the yard and continued walking with the priest. Around the yard were other priests, all performing their daily tasks. Some looked up and greeted the pair as they went by.
At the door to the dining area the priest opened the door and ushered her inside where she once again had to adjust her eyesight to the light. This time going from light to dark. Though she was pleased by what she saw. On a table at one end of the room, on its own, was a meal set out just for her.
“I believe it’s a day of rest for you after your time of service?” Enquired the priest.
“Yes, in fact I have quite some time to myself as no services have been requested of me, from people or from the servants of your God.” She was eager to sit and eat but held off until the priest had finished wither. “Why?”
“I was going to suggest you take some time to reflect on your recent work and perhaps pray, or meditate as you call it, before returning to service for the people and our Lord.” He smiled and indicated the meal. “The world won’t fall apart without you for a few days, I will instruct the others to withhold any demands for your service until you are properly rested.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you.” And she smiled before moving to take her seat and her meal. Stepping over the bench seat of the table, she sat herself down and looked at the food. They had prepared some of her favourites. The plates contents of fruit and sweet bread enticed her, but she was most impressed by the pike on her dish. Something she had not eaten for some time. She looked forward to tucking in to the white meat while downing the clear fresh water accompanying her food. Beginning with the bread provided she tore a piece off and slowly chewed. Even Thearios would be proud to have this on his table, she thought. The soft white bread in her mouth was easy to chew and with a sweet hint to it almost. She closed her eyes, comparing it to the hardtack she’d been eating while on the road. She lifted the wooden cup next to her plate and mixed the bread with water before swallowing. She then looked at the plate and started helping herself to the rest. Though she ate slowly.
With her elbows on the table, half way through the food, she now thought more than she ate. She rolled a piece of bread over in her fingers and looked down at the food on her plate. Some pieces of fruit lay on the side, ignored in favour of the pike and bread. The night experience in the temple crossed her mind. A feeling of self-conscious pity welled up inside her chest making her feel uncomfortable. She put the bread piece in to her mouth and chewed slowly, only half tasting it. More concerned with the thoughts and feelings brought on by the previous night’s revelation about carrying on alone. Had she been thinking selfishly? Could she carry on without her beloved Xena?
She had done well so far, even better than well if she were to be confident in her own abilities and efforts. Was this arrogance creeping in to her self-opinion? No, she knew arrogance well enough, she’d dealt with far more arrogant people in her life to know this feeling of confidence in herself was not arrogance. Her teachings from Xena, particularly in combat and especially in how to avoid it if need be, were not due to or the cause of arrogance either. She pulled at a piece of the pike and slipped it in to her mouth, where it joined the piece of bread. She sneered almost and reached in to her mouth and felt about. Removing her fingers from her mouth she looked at the fish bone that she’d pulled lose from between her teeth and placed it on the edge of the plate.
Maybe the priest was right, could this be a crisis of faith she was entering? But whose? Hers? In herself? She had to admit she had been all set to give up her service there and then at the altar. Or was the absence of any message or converse from those she served a sign she was losing faith in them? Or even them in her? She placed a hand on the table top as she put her face in the other and grimaced, the aching pain to be with her lost love hit her again as she remembered her words the night prior.
“Xena!” She whispered and then exhaled deeply, her body slumping with sadness and fatigue.
She rallied her composure and looked at the meal before her. She took one last swig from the cup and placed it on an empty part of her plate. She stood, picked up the plate and cup and made for the kitchen. Once there she placed the wasted food in to a compost bucket and then deposited the plate and cup in a wash bowl. She leaned on the edge of a nearby work top and bowed her head. Everything she’d been tasked to do lately had taken its toll on her, but this was different. Not since Japan had she felt so defeated. Lifting herself from the top she left the kitchen via a door leading to a back garden area. Here she could make her way to the stairs that led to her quarters above part of the kitchen. Using one hand on the stair railing she trudged and dragged herself to her quarters. Reaching the door she went inside. The door never needing to be locked during her times away. That’s one big advantage of living alongside priests, their honesty and your well-kept privacy, she thought. Once in her quarters she undid the sword belt and tossed it aside, leaving it to land wherever random chance let it. She then sat on her bed, her much missed and desired bed. She sat and enjoyed the soft mattress under her for minute, she then leaned over and removed the sai from its place on her boot. She held it up briefly for inspection, twisting it around in her hand. She placed this rather more carefully on the floor and slid it under her bed with a foot. Undoing her boots came next.
Gabrielle had decided not to leave her rooms on this first day of her time off service. Instead she had simply bathed and then busied herself with her equipment. After several months on the road her leathers were dirty and needed oiling. The hot weather and occasional rain storm had led to her entire outfit becoming dried and cracked in places. Some of it was actually becoming irritating when worn. After changing in to one of her dresses, secured about her waist by a braided rope belt, she then set to cleaning what she could from the garments, then laid them out and decided to wax them. She’d had to hunt about for bees wax she’d stored. Not exactly sure of where she’d kept it. Once found she spent several hours rubbing in the wax. The care needed to clean and polish the leather temporarily taking her mind off of her faith dilemma. Though she was happy with the result. Her tan leather trousers and top looked much better and would last a bit longer now. Despite taking the time to clean and wax her outfit she simply hung them over the end of her bed. She returned the lid to the bees wax and moved to place it in a drawer by her bed, grabbing a sharp stone out to now tend to her sword. Looking about she found her sword in its scabbard laying on the floor by a chest of drawers opposite the end of her bed. Sighing she retrieved it and sat back down.
She drew the weapon and looked it up and down frowning. This really was not her weapon of choice. Unfortunately, the many people she faced these days were more and more adept at using such a weapon. And she’d already lost one sai, the other not far from breaking itself, purely through age and wear and tear from years of use. She parted her legs as she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to see the sai underneath. She grabbed it and held it up. Its surface was dented and notched. You’re more of a back-up now, she thought sadly as she placed the weapon on top of her bedside drawers. She turned her attention to the sword.
“You, on the other hand.” She sighed eyeing the weapon. “If I didn’t need you, you’d be long gone.” She ran the sharp stone along the length of one side of the blade. Listening to the scraping sound it made as it went. Over and over she repeated the process. “I wouldn’t have to do this if I had my other sai, or even a staff, you know.” She said looking at her sword. She ran the stone along the blade several more times. Memories of sitting at campfires and watching Xena sharpen her xiphos sprang to mind. She smiled as she imagined Xenas face in firelight, one hand holding her sword the other running a sharp stone along its length. Gabrielle ran her own sharp stone all the way along her swords length and off the end, listening for the zing as it went. Every so often she would stop to inspect the edge. Gently sliding a thumb or fingertip sideways over it or holding the weapon up and looking along its length. Gauging the quality of her endeavours with the sharp stone. Finally happy with the blades sharpness she put down the stone and reached to her drawers again. This time pulling out a dirty, well used cloth. Very carefully, so as not to cut herself, she cleaned the blade of any grinding materials left along the blade. Despite not being keen in the use of the weapon she still made sure the whole blade surface, the flat not just the edge, was clean before returning it to its scabbard and hanging it from a hook on a wall.
Stepping away from the weapon she looked at it unhappily and then set about putting away her used tools before laying back on her bed. Swinging her feet up on to the sheets and soft mattress and placing an arm behind her head the other across her stomach. Her fingers idly played with the braided rope belt she wore as she closed her eyes. She could feel the soft but comfortable mattress take the weight and form of her body underneath her. So much more comfy than a bedroll by a campfires side. The deep pillow accepting her arm and her head as she sank in to its comfort.
It was dark when she awoke still in her dress and belt. Opening her eyes she found herself curled up on one side facing the wall of her room. One hand tucked under her pillow and her knees up at her waist nearly. She listened to the quiet for a moment, gradually hearing her own breathing in the nights stillness. She lifted her head from the pillow and looked about her room, not sure if it were early hours of the morning or just late in the night. Gently she twisted at the waist and brought herself to the edge of her bed placing her feet on the floorboards. She stood and approached her door feeling the smooth wood boards on her feet. She opened her door ajar and looked down the steps that led from the back of the kitchen to her quarters. A light was still showing through a small window of the kitchen. Still night, she thought and closed her door to return to her bed. Standing at her bedside she undid and removed the braided belt and placed in on the end of her bed, followed by the blue dress she’d worn that day. Carefully she folded it in her arms and placed it over the footboard of her bed. Naked in the moonlight streaming through a small window above her, Gabrielle pulled the sheets back and climbed in to bed. Rolling on to her side to face the wall once more she sought sleep.
Over the next few days Gabrielle filled her time by helping with chores around the temple grounds. Taking her meals with the priests but saying little and returning to her quarters as and when she’d decided she’d faced enough of the world. Sitting on her bed she often thought of herself as going through the motions required just to see each day through. With her shoulders slouched and her head down she would sit and try to ignore the aching pain in her gut which felt as though it were growing with each passing day. The horrible aching one experienced when missing a vital part of their lives, knowing there was no way humanly possible for that part to return, no way to hold, touch or even see that missing part no matter how much one wanted it to happen. And then there was the desperation that accompanied the ache. Like a force that was powerful enough to make even the strongest person weep and beg for it to stop. Slumped on the edge of her bed now, she leaned her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands.
Callisto waved her hand over the font water once more. The image of Gabrielle sitting with her head in her hands faded in to view. She eyed the vision for a few moments filled with sympathy and sorrow for the woman’s seemingly helpless situation.
“Still determined to alleviate yourself of the guilt you feel for her?” The voice brought her eyes from Gabrielle to Eli now walking to join her. Ascending the white stone steps to the font dais.
“As an angel am I not to feel guilt for the suffering?” Seeing it were Eli approaching she turned her gaze to the image of Gabrielle in the font once more. “I can’t help but feel something should be done for her.”
“She chose her path a long time ago.” Eli pointed out now looking at the image.
“I know but I ask if she really knew if that path, as the Warrior of Eli, would lead her to loneliness and faith shattering doubt?” Callisto looked at Eli for an answer.
Eli gave her a stern look for using the warrior name given Gabrielle in his service. “Few mortals, if any these days, know where their chosen path will take them.” He met Callisto’s look. “She may change her path yet.”
“That’s what I fear she may do, change her path.”
“How so?” Enquired Eli.
“Right now Gabrielle has no way of righting the course she finds herself on. Doubt in her faith, doubt in our faith in her, doubt that she is doing worthwhile, may set her on a path very different to that she’s been following.” She looked sorrowfully in to the font. “She’s lost!” Her voice almost breaking as she spoke. “Look in to her Eli, look deep in to Gabrielle, see the conflict and loss.”
Eli did as requested and inspected the image of Gabrielle. The slumped shoulders, her face in her hands.
“Do you not see it Eli?” Said Callisto calmly. “Do you not see the dark cloud of doubt that is only just now beginning? Starting within her, soon to spread like a disease until the champion we chose is beyond redemption of her own.”
As Eli watched the image of the distraught woman he noticed the black tinge to her essence for the first time. Ever so faint and if he’d not been told of its existence may have gone unnoticed for longer. Like a faint mist that faded outwards from inside the dejected woman, the cloud gently swirled and moved almost as if in harmony with her emotional shifts.
“And your suggestion for this?” Eli looked at Callisto from under his dark locks. An expectant if doubtful look on his face.
“She needs something to believe in. Something more than just the word of a belief system she serves because of an enduring sense of duty to people she’s lost.” Callisto dipped her fingers in to the font waters and thought. The image of Gabrielle rippling with the water about her fingers. She looked Eli squarely and challengingly in the eyes. “I say we give her what she wants.”
Eli folded his arms and tilted his head slightly, looking at Callisto appearing disappointed. “Xena made her own path, even with Gabrielle at her side she chose her fate. We cannot simply return the dead from a debt they owed to those they condemned themselves.”
Callisto looked at the image in the font. Losing Gabrielle would be a major loss for their cause. She was already well known and respected, even loved, by many of the people of the lands in which she travelled. If word ever got out that one of their most devout disciples had lost their faith they would be facing a disastrous and possibly arbitrary loss in faith among their many worshippers.
“If Gabrielle falls we may not recover as well as you or others may like to think or predict.” She removed her hand from the font, instantly dry of the holy water, and looked at Eli. “We have held her up as the shining light of our guidance and loyalty, letting that light extinguish itself through our own lack of faith in that light could condemn us.”
“What is a god without faith?” Said Eli stepping closer to Callisto mulling over the situation.
“She gets what she wants, and we would be giving people a sign that we are still compassionate and listen to those following our Lords teachings.” Callisto smiled at her own after thought. “It never hurts to show the power of a miracle from time to time.”
“And what of the souls that would be condemned as a result of freeing Xenas?” Enquired Eli.
“Surely the big man himself can do something about that?” Said Callisto coolly.
“Tampering in the beliefs of others is not our way Callisto, and you should be more respectful of how you address our Lord.” He sighed full of reluctance and indicated the font with a gentle nod. “Speak with her, we shall see about the rest.”
To be continued in Chapter 2