Chapter Four
East to West, Then Back Again
As the Poseidon drew closer to the docks, everyone was looking for something different: Captain Santilla was looking for the marketplace to hopefully trade their load of sea bass for the needed supplies. The men were looking for, hopefully, friendly young ladies to share the wine, and other pleasures. Gabrielle was looking for solid ground (she never fully got her sea legs, and seasickness was always just a pitch of the boat away). And Xena was looking for trouble, which always seemed to come all too often.
Except for Gabrielle, they all were disappointed.
"Where is everyone?" Gabrielle asked as the Poseidon pulled alongside the least damaged dock. "The village looks deserted."
"Right now, there's no telling," Xena answered. "But whatever the reason, we need to be careful. There are signs of neglect, but no real damage as if there was a battle."
"I'm thinking some sort of plague," Santilla theorized. "Killed everybody, down to the last man, woman, child and slave."
"So where are the bodies?" Gabrielle asked. "They should be everywhere."
"Maybe the last to die buried their kin, and when they died, the wolves or other predators dragged the bodies off," he replied.
"Xena, what do you think?"
"Could be disease. We'll know better after we've look things over. So, Captain Santilla, you need to tell your men to be careful of what they touch while they are looking for whatever is left that we can use. I'll go first, and have them follow when I give the signal."
Both Xena and Gabrielle stepped off onto the shaky dock and slowly approached the first buildings – the taverns.
"Left or right?"
"I'll go right," Gabrielle replied, and they separated, each drawing their weapons.
Both women found mostly the same thing – dusty, overturned tables and chairs, broken and empty wine bottles, and little else. They met in the street.
"So how long ago do you think this town was abandoned?" Gabrielle asked.
"Half a year maybe. Let's see what the rest of the village looks like."
After some quick exploring, they returned to the docks.
"I didn't see any remains of funeral pyres, or new gravesites, so it doesn't look like there was any kind of plague, or attack," Xena told Santilla. "I did find the town's well, but we'll need a rope and bucket. Have your men go through all the buildings to see if there is anything we can use."
They rolled all the empty water barrels to the well, but after bringing up the first bucket of water, Xena knew why the town was abandoned.
"It's salt water," she said. "Either the sea has risen and fouled the well, or the land has sunk. Either way, it's obvious the people of this village had to move on. Gabrielle and I will explore farther inland. Maybe there's a stream somewhere not too far away. Be sure to have the men look for any cisterns, there may be some drinkable water left in them."
It well past midday when Xena and Gabrielle returned to the village. The only thing of any real value the crew of the Poseidon found was wood for the cooking fires.
"We found a couple dried up stream beds," Xena told them. "We even dug down as deep as my arm would reach, but there is no moisture. The leaves are dying on the trees. This area has been in a drought for several years. That, and the sea water in the wells, has made this part of the island unlivable."
"What will we do for food?" one of the crew asked. "All we have is the fish, and they are beginning to spoil."
"Then tonight we will smoke all we have on board. We can't leave until tomorrow anyway," Xena said. "There are enough old water barrels around town we can use to trap the smoke. If we get started now, by morning we'll have all the food we need, for a while. There are plenty of dried oak limbs on the ground outside the village. I suggest gathering the smaller ones first."
By the time it was dark all the fish had been prepared and were being smoked in the dozen or so barrels they found. They had knocked the ends of out them, stacked them three high, and suspended the filleted fish by cords inside. The smoky embers would do their job by daybreak.
"Xena, I have made a decision," Santilla said after the men bedded down for the night. "We cannot continue to go west to navigate around this island. Even if there was a strong wind at our backs the entire way, it would still take 40 – 45 days. But if there is no water to be had, we will die of thirst in one fifth of that time. We have no choice but to go back east, back to Messina."
"But what about the Roman warships?" Gabrielle asked.
"We have to take the chance we won't be seen. And if we are, hopefully it will be after we get close enough that there will be so many other ships, they will leave us alone."
"Xena?"
"He's right, Gabrielle. We don't have a choice."
"What in Tartarus are you taking about? Of course we have a choice! Just don't let him take us back where the Roman ships are!"
"I know you're not talking about a mutiny!" Santilla said threateningly.
"No, she isn't," Xena replied quickly. "Not at all."
"Fine!" Gabrielle exclaimed. "Then we'll go overland to the southern shore and then find a ship to take us the rest of the way to Greece! We can do it. We traveled across the desert after we rescued Sara from Gurkhan. We don't need him or his ship!"
"Gabrielle...."
"Xena, you KNOW what they do to runaway slaves! And even on the off chance they let us live, I told you before -- I WILL NOT go back to Batiatus, not after...."
And just before Gabrielle broke down, Xena took her into her arms, holding her close.
"Give us a moment," Xena said quietly to Santilla, who nodded then left to check on the fish.
Xena gave Gabrielle time to let the immediate trauma of whatever she was remembering to lessen, then she had Gabrielle look her in the eyes.
"Gabrielle, I can't help but feel like all of this is my fault. I should have protected you better, I know that. When we first started traveling together I swore to myself that I would never let anything happen to you, that I would never let you be hurt, but I've let you down so many times. And I know this is just one more example. And I can't help but believe that you think so, too. And I am so, so sorry. But, do you remember when you were shot with the poisoned arrow by that Persian spy? And we thought you were going to die?"
Gabrielle nodded.
"Who was it that held off the Persian army that was marching on Athens?"
"You did."
"So do you really think I'm going to let a few Roman ships stop us from going home?"
"I suppose not. But when we got captured I kept waiting for you to make your move, but you never did. You let them march us right into slavery."
"I know. I kept waiting for the right time to escape without the risk of getting you killed, but it never seemed to come. I don't know, maybe I should have taken the chance, but I was so worried about your safety. But I promise you, the next time...."
"No, there won't be a next time. I know you're getting tired of hearing this, but I'll keep on saying it: I will die before I go back, even if it's by my own hand."
"You're right. There won't be a next time."
The next morning Santilla had his men load up the smoked fish and the miscellaneous odds and ends they had scrounged from the abandoned town, set sail, and steered the ship east, in the
direction of Messina.