Xena rode through the thick mist rolling down the valley. The heavy fog reminded her of smoke and stirred memories she’d have preferred to keep buried. She could almost smell the burning houses ... and bodies. Everything reminded her of battle these days, no matter how much she tried to put it behind her. Xena knew she’d never forget all the terrible things she’d done, but why did there have to be reminders everywhere she turned? As she topped a rise, she caught sight of a burnt-out village; just what she needed, another reminder. She considered riding around the remains, but decided she may as well go straight through ... the memories would haunt her either way. She approached the village slowly, the mist almost making it seem like the buildings were still smoking. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? It had been months since her army had descended on this town, the name of which escaped her ... there were far too many towns for her to remember them all. What she did recall were the screams of frightened peasants as they ran from her men, the cries of pain as she led the slaughter, and the supplications to the gods that went unanswered. And rising above it all, the chants of her army, praising her for leading them on their destructive path: “Xena, Xena, Xena!”
Xena heard a noise in a fire-gutted shack and turned to see a ragged boy step out of the wreckage. “Hello”, she said, knowing how strange it sounded in the midst of the carnage.
The boy had no interest in polite conversation. “You got any food you could spare?”
Xena tensed. “Food’s scarce everywhere. No one has anything to spare.” She looked around. “Where are your parents?”
The child shuffled his feet in the ashes and glanced up at her. “The Other Side. They were killed by Xena, the Warrior Princess. She came down out of the sky in a chariot, throwing thunderbolts and breathing fire.”
Xena cringed as another wave of guilt washed over her. This child obviously hadn’t seen her leading the army that wiped out his village and killed his parents. Or maybe he had and the memory was so painful he’d altered it to make Xena even more terrifying. She’d always felt a little superior to other warlords because she insisted on sparing the women and children wherever possible. But this child hadn’t been spared, had he? She dug into her pouch and dropped the food she’d been saving for her dinner at the child’s feet, spurring Argo away before he could say a word. She knew his gratitude would just make her feel even more guilty.
Xena rode across the countryside, trying to get away from her guilt, but knowing it would follow her no matter how far she went. Since her last encounter with Hercules a few months ago, she’d tried to follow his example, doing good and helping people to make up for all the pain she’d caused. She knew that was a scale she’d never be able to balance, but she was willing to live with the guilt and the nightmares, as long as she could use her deadly skills for good instead of evil. The trouble was, nobody would let her. Every time she tried to help people they’d either run away in fear or attack her in anger. Every warlord and cutthroat she went up against assumed she was trying to eliminate them as competition, and even the few people she’d managed to save looked at her with suspicion, guessing she had some nefarious reason for helping them. She was just so damn tired of trying to help people who hated her.
As she rode down another valley, Xena made up her mind that she’d had enough. If people didn’t want her help, she couldn’t force them to accept it. She hated giving up—and it wasn’t something she’d ever done before—but she felt she had no choice. In her heart, she truly believed she could be a good person, but if she couldn’t convince others of that, maybe she was wrong ... maybe she really was the monster everyone thought her to be. But how could she know for sure? Hercules thought she’d changed, but he was conditioned to see good everywhere. She needed someone who’d seen her at her worst and would be honest about their feelings toward her. Xena thought about her mother, Cyrene. She’d never had any trouble speaking her mind, and she certainly had no illusions where Xena was concerned. She could return to Amphipolis and beg her mother’s forgiveness—well, maybe not beg, but ask—and if her mother rejected her, that would be it. She’d give up and go live in a cave away from civilization for the rest of her life. Or maybe she’d just jump off a cliff and get it over with.
Xena knew her mother wouldn’t be happy to see her arrive bristling with weapons, so she decided to get rid of her sword, her chakram, and even her armor. But where to leave them? As she came over the crest of a hill, she noticed a village below. The place looked vaguely familiar and as she studied the forested hills overlooking the town and the river running lazily down toward it, she remembered the name of the place: Poteidaia. She’d never conquered the town in her warlord days, deeming it no threat after sending a few men to scout the place. Most of the villagers didn’t carry weapons and the town had always maintained cordial relations with Amphipolis, so she’d bypassed it in her conquests, not wanting to waste her resources. Finally, a village that didn’t harbor any painful memories; Xena took that as a sign and rode toward the woods above the village.
After tying Argo to a fallen tree, Xena went into the woods and found a clearing. She stripped off her breastplate, leather armor, greaves, and bracers, laying them all in a shallow hole she scooped out of the earth. She piled her sword and chakram on top, covering everything with dirt and leaves. She had an old linen tunic in her saddlebag that would look much less threatening on her return to Amphipolis. Xena knew she was taking a chance leaving her weapons behind; who knew what trouble she might run into on the way home? But she decided to leave it to the Fates: if her destiny was to die on the road to Amphipolis, then so be it. Maybe it would be better than living with the screams of her victims echoing in her ears. She could hear them even now, shrill and frightened, getting louder by the second.
Xena cocked her head to the side. For once, the sounds she heard weren’t inside her head, they were coming from just outside the woods. She heard women crying out in fear, mixed with the harsh voices of men, getting closer all the time. Xena’s warrior instincts took over and she melted back into the bushes just in time, as a score or so of villagers ran into the clearing, clearly frightened. Most of them were women of various ages, along with a handful of farmers with crude pitchforks, rakes, and shovels. They were followed by a number of well-armed men, herding the villagers like sheep and laughing at their fright. The leader of the ruffians (who one of the men addressed as Hector) stepped forward to run a greedy eye over his captives and Xena noticed a blue piece of cloth flapping from the shoulder of his armor. She knew what that meant ... Hector worked for Draco. She didn’t recognize any of the men, but then she hadn’t ridden with Draco in almost a decade, and warlords tended to have a high turnover rate among their soldiers. Plus, Draco wasn’t averse to killing his underlings if they failed too many times.
Hector spoke to the frightened villagers, affecting a politeness he probably found amusing. “All right, we can do this one of two ways. You can let us have the girls and go back to those hovels you call homes, or we can hack you all into little pieces and take the girls anyway.”
Xena watched from the bushes, knowing these people had no real choice, and that even cooperation might not spare them further violence if the raiders were in a vicious mood. Suddenly one of the girls, a young strawberry blonde who looked scared out of her wits, stepped forward, ignoring two other women who tried to hold her back. “Take me! Let the others go!”
Xena was impressed with the girl’s spirit, but knew what Hector’s answer would be before he spoke. “Nice try. But we’ll take you and anybody else we want.” He stepped forward to grab the girl, but she slapped his hand away, a determined look on her face despite her obvious fear. Xena smiled to herself, thinking the girl was either very brave or very crazy. She certainly had backbone; in fact, she reminded Xena of herself at that age, a lifetime ago.
Hector held out his hand and one of his men handed him a whip. “It’s never too early to start training slave girls.” The blonde girl backed up a step or two, but the defiance never left her face. Maybe the girl was crazy, but Xena couldn’t stand by any longer. When Hector reared back the whip to strike, Xena stepped out of the bushes to grab the end.
Hector turned, surprised but not worried. His mistake. “Oh, I got to admit, this village makes tough women.” He obviously thought she was from Poteidaia and Xena didn’t bother correcting him. “All right, now we take the gloves off and start hacking.” He held out his other hand and another soldier placed a dagger in it.
He advanced on Xena, expecting her to cower in fear. But she surprised him with a flurry of kicks to the face, knocking him head over heels into the dirt. Xena backed up, her hands raised in a defensive posture, but none of the other raiders moved, waiting for orders from their fallen leader. For a moment, Xena hoped her demonstration might be enough to change Hector’s mind about fighting, but as he rose she could see he wasn’t going to give up so easily. She’d humiliated him in front of his men and now he wanted blood.
Hector glanced at a group of his men. “You round up the girls.” He grabbed a spear from another soldier. “We’ll take care of this one.”
Mindful of the fact she was unarmed (and without her armor), Xena moved quickly to take the initiative. She leaped toward two soldiers, disarming one before kicking him and his comrade away. She spun and kicked another thug in the chest, turning to meet Hector as he charged with the spear. A fast kick sent the spear high into the air and Xena slammed a backfist to Hector’s throat before dropping him on his back with a kick. She’d timed it so the falling spear would skewer him, but he saw it coming and rolled away at the last second. Xena grabbed the spears of two more soldiers, pushing them off balance as she glanced around. Other thugs were beating on the villagers and one looked like he was about to kill a poor farmer. Xena hooked her foot into a fallen sword and sent it flying at the thug hilt-first, knocking him out.
She reversed her hold on the spears she was holding and flipped their two wielders over. Xena took advantage of the spear still sticking out of the ground beside Hector, grabbing the shaft and spinning around it. The men tried to surround her just as she’d anticipated and she whirled around the spear shaft, kicking them away and using the momentum to build her speed as she filled the clearing with her war cry. Hector lay on the ground beside the spear, favoring his throat where Xena had hit him, but he had the presence of mind to draw his sword and chop the spear off near the bottom. Xena saw it coming and vaulted away, using a downed man as a springboard and flipping to safety, still clutching the shaft of the spear. Xena glanced back at the pile of men now lying in a half-conscious circle. Screams drew her attention and she turned to see more of the raiders trying to drag the women away, including the young blonde girl who’d stood up to them. She was fighting like a wildcat, but the soldier who’d grabbed her was too strong.
Xena heard movement behind her and glanced back to see four of the fallen soldiers rise and rush toward her. She jammed the spear shaft into them to check their attack and flipped over behind them, pulling the spear up to slam them all in the face simultaneously. The raider now had the blonde girl—still kicking and fighting—over his shoulder, so Xena waited until he turned and threw the spear shaft, nailing him right in the gut. As he doubled over, the blonde brought her knee up into his face, knocking him out. Whoever this girl was, she was a feisty one. Xena’s eyes locked with hers and she felt a strange connection, almost like she knew the girl. Before she could ponder it, she saw the girl’s eyes widen and heard a noise behind her. A sword hilt slammed into her head and she fell to the ground, cursing herself for losing focus. Xena put a hand to her head and felt blood as Draco’s men surrounded her.
Hector stepped up, laughing at her helplessness. Xena knew she was in trouble, but was determined to go down fighting. She placed her hands on the ground to steady herself and was surprised to feel metal against her fingers. They’d knocked her to the very spot where she’d buried her weapons. Xena didn’t normally put much stock in omens, but earlier she’d been willing to consign her destiny to the whims of the Fates, so maybe this was a sign that her fighting days weren’t quite over yet. As the men moved to surround her, Xena slipped her hands under the leaves and dirt, grasping her sword in one hand and her chakram in the other. When Hector brought his sword down, she raised her own to block it, enjoying the look of shock on his face.
Xena flicked her wrist, sending the chakram in a quick circuit that broke several of the raiders’ swords before returning to her hand. With a swing of her sword, she sent the soldiers scrambling back and she got to her feet, laughing at the sudden rush of excitement she felt. How could she have ever thought of giving this up? She spun around, letting loose with her war cry again, and starting hacking at the nearest soldiers, this time striking to kill. The villagers took that as a sign and jumped the distracted raiders, fighting back with their crude weapons. Xena’s continuing attacks and the element of surprise worked to unbalance the raiders and most of them were soon down. Xena faced off with Hector, her smile of enjoyment obviously unnerving him. She hooked his sword and sent it flying up to lodge in a thick tree branch overhead.
Xena stepped forward, flicking the blue material off his shoulder with her sword point. “You’re with Draco. Tell him Xena says hello.” She saw his eyes widen in recognition at her name, but before he could react, Xena slammed the sword hilt into his head, knocking him senseless.
She turned toward the villagers, who still looked frightened. She lowered her weapons but that didn’t ease the looks of fright on the villagers’ faces and Xena realized they’d heard what she said ... they knew who she was now. She turned and bent down to retrieve her armor from where she’d buried it and a wave of dizziness almost caused her to fall over. She heard leaves rustling and tensed, but the footsteps were too soft to be one of Draco’s men. She felt a hand on her back and her instincts almost made her lash out, but a soft voice in her ear stayed her hand. “Are you all right? Your head is bleeding.” It was the blonde girl who’d tried to sacrifice herself for the others.
“I’m fine,” Xena said, trying to ignore the throbbing in her head.
An older woman approached cautiously, plucking at the girl’s arm. “Come, Gabrielle, we should go home. Your father will be worried.”
The girl’s face twisted with concern. “But Xena’s hurt, mother. We can’t just leave her here.”
Xena gathered her armor and stood, swaying a little as another bout of dizziness overtook her. “I told you, I’m fine. You can go back to your homes.”
“You’re not fine, you’re hurt. You can barely stand.” She turned to her mother, a pleading look on her face. “Mother please. She saved our lives. If it wasn’t for her ...”
The older woman looked at Xena and shrugged. “All right. Our farm is just down the hill on the edge of town. You’d better come so I can put something on that head wound.”
Xena was about to protest when the blonde girl grabbed her arm and said, “Here, you can lean on me.” Xena almost burst out laughing at the idea of leaning on this slip of a girl, but she managed to keep a straight face, and to her surprise the girl actually was pretty strong for her size. As they made their way down the hill, Xena noticed the other villagers eyeing her warily, most of them keeping their distance and clutching their weapons. Even the girl’s mother, who’d agreed to tend Xena’s wound, was clearly nervous in her presence. Xena glanced down at the blonde girl smiling up at her and was struck with the fact that she showed no trace of fear. Unlike the others, this girl wasn’t the least bit afraid of her. She must know Xena’s reputation, must have heard stories of her terrible deeds. But she still wasn’t afraid; maybe the girl was crazy after all.
*******************************************************
The day had started out so well. Gabrielle and her sister Lila finished their chores early and Gabrielle was looking forward to spending some time writing. She managed a nature poem, but got stuck when she tried to come up with an adventure story. She’d been having trouble concentrating lately, what with her wedding to Perdicus looming and her father’s insistence that she forget all this bard nonsense and act like a “proper young lady”. She was so frustrated with her lack of imagination that she gladly accepted Lila’s invitation to go berry picking with some of the other village women. They trooped up to the hills above Poteidaia, but soon noticed a ruckus in one of the nearby fields. Several armed men were haranguing the farmers, whose crude implements were no match for the swords and spears carried by the intruders. The women turned to flee back to the village, but found another bunch of armed men behind them. The leader, who the ruffians called Hector, herded them all up the hill while his men dragged the farmers along behind. Hector ran everyone into a clearing in the woods and Gabrielle looked around at the frightened faces of her mother, Lila, and the other villagers. She knew no one would hear their cries so far from the village and shuddered as she wondered what these cutthroats had in mind.
Hector stepped forward and said, “All right, we can do this one of two ways. You can let us have the girls and go back to those hovels you call homes, or we can hack you all into little pieces and take the girls anyway.”
That got a general laugh from Hector’s men, but only made the villagers’ terror rise. Gabrielle looked at her sister and knew she couldn’t let her be hurt by these barbarians, no matter what the cost. She stepped forward, pulling free of her mother’s frightened grasp and ignoring her yell of caution. “Take me! Let the others go!”
The thought of being at the mercy of these animals frightened her half to death, but Gabrielle was willing to endure it if it would spare the others. Hector just laughed. “Nice try. But we’ll take you and anybody else we want.”
He stepped forward and reached out toward her chest. Gabrielle acted without heed to the consequences, slapping his hand away, her face twisting in revulsion. Hector’s face looked calm, but his words sent a chill down Gabrielle’s spine. “It’s never too early to start training slave girls.” He held out his hand and one of his men placed a whip in it. Gabrielle backed up, thinking she might dodge the whip stroke, until she remembered her mother and Lila were right behind her. She couldn’t step aside and let them be hit, so she braced herself for the lash, gritting her teeth and balling up her fists, not wanting to give Hector the satisfaction of seeing how scared she was.
Hector pulled back his arm, but someone stepped out of the bushes and grabbed the whip before he could strike. It was a woman, but not like any woman Gabrielle had ever seen. At first she thought it might be Artemis, for the woman was tall and strong, with piercing blue eyes. But why would Artemis be lurking in the bushes above Poteidaia dressed only in her undershift? Gabrielle knew this mystery woman wasn’t from Poteidaia—she definitely would’ve remembered her—but who could she be? Maybe she was some kind of crazy hermit, living rough in the woods. But she sure didn’t look crazy. What struck Gabrielle the most about her was that she showed not the slightest trace of fear. The look she gave Hector was one of ... amusement more than anything, like she was enjoying some sort of private joke.
Hector obviously didn’t know what to make of her either, and assumed she was one of the locals. “Oh, I got to admit, this village makes tough women. All right, now we take the gloves off and start hacking.” He reared his arm back to strike with the whip, but instead of shrinking back the tall woman lashed a series of kicks to his face, so fast Gabrielle’s eye could hardly follow them.
Hector rose, angry now. “You round up the girls,” he said, grabbing a spear from another soldier. “We’ll take care of this one.” Several of the men moved toward the villagers, who cowered back in fear, but Gabrielle barely noticed, so mesmerized was she by the tall woman’s fighting ability. She used a series of kicks, punches, flips, and rolls to disarm, disorient, and almost dismember Hector and his men. Gabrielle was distracted from the spectacle when one of the thugs grabbed her. She fought as hard as she could, taking her example from the warrior woman in front of her. But Gabrielle lacked her skill and strength, so she found herself thrown over her attacker’s shoulder like a sack of flour. The tall woman did another magnificent flip, knocking out four guys at the same time with a spear shaft, and tossing the shaft right into the stomach of the ruffian manhandling Gabrielle. When he bent over at the waist, Gabrielle brought her knee up as hard as she could, slamming it under his jaw and knocking him senseless.
Ignoring the pain in her knee (who knew kneeing someone’s face would hurt so much?), Gabrielle locked eyes with the tall warrior and felt a strange connection, like a surge of energy passing through her. The fleeting moment was broken when Gabrielle noticed a soldier behind the tall woman. Before she could shout a warning, he slammed his sword hilt into the woman’s head and she fell to the ground. Hector and his men surrounded her and Gabrielle stepped forward, wondering if she could do something to help. Her mother and Lila grabbed her and pulled her back, so she was forced to watch as Hector raised his sword to finish the woman, whose face still showed not a trace of fear.
Hector swung his sword and Gabrielle wasn’t sure who was more surprised, her or Hector himself. The woman had seemingly plucked a sword from out of the ground and blocked Hector’s downward swing before it reached her. She also produced a strange metal ring that she threw with a casual flick of the wrist. The ring zipped around the clearing, breaking the ends off the soldiers’ swords and returning to the woman’s hand. Gabrielle wondered where the weapons had come from ... maybe this was Artemis after all.
She certainly fought like a goddess, making short work of the bandits closest to her. The men of Poteidaia took advantage of the distraction to attack the rest of their captors, beating them down with their farm implements and disarming them. The tall woman faced off with Hector and Gabrielle was stunned to see she was actually laughing, like the whole thing was some kind of game. She quickly disarmed Hector and flipped a piece of blue cloth from his shoulder with her sword. “You’re with Draco. Tell him Xena says hello,” she said, before slamming him in the face with the hilt of her sword.
Xena! Well, if half the stories Gabrielle had heard about her were true, that explained the extraordinary fighting skills. But Gabrielle had always heard that Xena was evil, killing wantonly and enjoying death and destruction in equal measure. Even allowing for the embellishments accumulated by most stories (something Gabrielle was quite familiar with), the Xena of legend sounded nothing like this woman, who had jumped into a fight with a dozen well-armed men without even a stitch of armor to protect her.
Xena bent down and brushed away some leaves and dirt, uncovering a shallow hole with leather armor and an intricate breastplate buried in it. So that was where the weapons came from—she’d buried them, along with her armor. But why? Burying all her weapons and armor before a fight didn’t make sense, and Gabrielle had heard Xena was a master strategist. Unless she hadn’t known about Hector and the others when she buried her stuff ... which would mean she was planning on leaving it there. But why would she do that? Gabrielle noticed Xena shake her head and put a hand on the ground to steady herself. She looked closer and saw blood on the back of Xena’s head where she’d been hit. Gabrielle moved forward and touched Xena lightly on the back. She felt Xena tense and realized she probably shouldn’t have approached a warrior when her back was turned. Well, at least Xena hadn’t reacted instinctively and broken her arm. “Are you all right? Your head is bleeding.”
“I’m fine,” Xena said, but Gabrielle could see the strain on her face and feel the tension in her back muscles.
Gabrielle’s mother approached tentatively and said, “Come, Gabrielle, we should go home. Your father will be worried.”
As soon as Xena had announced her name, Gabrielle had noticed the reaction of her fellow villagers, a wave of anxiety sweeping through them. They were all hanging back, obviously scared of Xena, but Gabrielle couldn’t let someone who’d saved their lives ride off with a head wound. What if she got in trouble later? “But Xena’s hurt, mother. We can’t just leave her here.”
Xena stood and said, “I told you, I’m fine. You can go back to your homes.”
Gabrielle frowned. “You’re not fine, you’re hurt. You can barely stand.” She turned to her mother, pleading. “Mother please. She saved our lives. If it wasn’t for her ...”
Her mother looked at Xena with trepidation, but finally relented with a shrug. “All right. Our farm is just down the hill on the edge of town. You’d better come so I can put something on that head wound.”
Xena swayed slightly, and Gabrielle pulled the taller woman’s arm around her shoulder. “Here, you can lean on me.” She saw the trace of a smile cross Xena’s face, but the older woman allowed herself to be led down the hill. She even leaned on Gabrielle’s shoulder a little, and Gabrielle was surprised at how much the warrior weighed. But she’d been carrying water from the well and pitching hay since she was a child, so she braced her legs and made the best of it, not wanting Xena to think she couldn’t handle it. On the way down the hill, the other villagers kept eyeing Xena warily and Gabrielle had a pretty good idea what was going to happen once they’d tended her wounds. But Gabrielle was already making plans of her own. Maybe she could figure out some way to get Xena to stay for a while, so she could learn a few things from her ... and ask her a very important question.
******************************************************
The girl (who introduced herself as Gabrielle, her sister as Lila, and her mother as Hecuba) led Xena into a small but comfortable house. The homey touches all around the room reminded Xena of her mother’s house in Amphipolis. She sat down and put her leather armor back on as Hecuba fetched some herbs from the cupboard and tended her wound. Lila brewed some tea that Xena drank gratefully, quieting the throbbing in her head. Xena could tell Hecuba and Lila were nervous being this close to the Warrior Princess, but Gabrielle still showed no trace of fear. She did show plenty of exuberance, giving Xena a recap of the battle she’d just fought, complete with pantomime. After trying to do a roundhouse kick and falling flat on her backside, Gabrielle jumped up without any embarrassment and kept on talking. “That thing you did with the hoop, that was amazing. Where did you get that? Did you make it yourself? And that kick you do ... you’ve got to teach me.” Xena had to bite back a smile at the thought of teaching this wild girl how to fight. She did have courage, and spirit, but by the gods did she ever shut up?
A group of villagers entered the house, led by a stern-faced man, who Gabrielle introduced as her father, Herodotus. Xena knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth. “Xena, we’d like you to move on.”
Before Xena could speak, Gabrielle jumped in. “Move on? Father, she should rest here until her would is healed.”
“Gabrielle, hush. We don’t want any trouble with you, Xena. We know your reputation. We just want you to join up with your army and move on.”
Xena couldn’t let that one pass. “I don’t have an army anymore.”
Gabrielle’s mother strode around to look Xena in the eye. “Of course she doesn’t. That’s why she’s trying to befriend us. She wants to recruit our young men to the slaughter, like she did in Amphipolis.”
Xena knew she couldn’t argue that point, but was surprised when Gabrielle stood up for her. “Mother, that’s not fair. You’re not giving her a chance.”
“Gabrielle, hold your tongue for once,” Herodotus said.
“But father, she saved—”
Xena was surprised at how vehemently the girl was defending her, but decided there was only one way to end the argument. “That’s all right, I planned to move on anyway.” She finished buckling on her breastplate and rose.
“Don’t take too long,” Herodotus said, turning with the other villagers and filing out of the house.
A tall man lingered, pulling at Gabrielle’s arm. “Come on, Gabrielle.”
She pulled away from his grasp. “Hey, just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean you can boss me around. I want to stay and talk to Xena.” With a sour look at Xena, he turned and followed Hecuba and Lila outside.
As soon as they were gone, Gabrielle turned to Xena, a pleading look on her face. “You’ve got to take me with you and teach me everything you know. You can’t leave me here.”
Xena wondered what could be so bad about life in Poteidaia. If she hadn’t led the fight against Cortese all those years ago, this might be the sort of life she’d have now. “Why?” Xena asked, as she retrieved her travel pack.
“Did you see the guy they want me to marry?”
“He looks like a gentle soul. That’s rare in a man.”
Gabrielle scoffed. “It’s not the gentle part I have a problem with. It’s the dull, stupid part.” Xena couldn’t help smiling at that, remembering some of the boys her mother had thought were a good match for her. “Xena, I’m not cut out for this village life. I was born to do so much more. I could be very valuable to you.”
Xena almost laughed at that. “How could you be valuable to me?”
Gabrielle’s voice took on a more serious tone. “I’ve studied the stars, spoken with philosophers, and I have the gift of prophecy.”
“Then you already know I’m not taking you with me,” Xena said with a smirk.
“Oh please, Xena, I know I seem like just a silly, innocent girl, but I don’t want to be.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry to lose your innocence. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever,” Xena said, thinking back to the innocence she’d once had, so long ago she could hardly bring it to mind.
“But I want so much to be like you.”
Xena turned and gave her an incredulous look. “Like me? Why? Look at all you’ve got in your life ... a home, a mother, a father, a nice guy who wants to marry you. Don’t be a fool. You don’t want to be me.” Gabrielle sat back with a shocked look and Xena hoped she wasn’t going to start crying. She hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the girl must be crazy if she wanted to be anything like her.
Gabrielle looked down at the floor, then nodded. “I guess you’re right. I’ve got it pretty good here.” Xena nodded at her, glad she’d gotten the message. “So, where are you headed next?”
Xena answered without thinking. “Amphipolis.”
“That’s in Thrace, isn’t it? I like to study maps and place names. So, what route do you usually take?”
Gabrielle’s face was the picture of innocence, but Xena could read her like a scroll. “Don’t even think about it.”
“What?” Gabrielle said, still playing innocent.
“Following me.” Xena leaned toward Gabrielle and gave her a hard stare. “You don’t want to make me mad now, do you?”
Gabrielle’s eyes widened and she shook her head, silent for the first time since Xena had met her. Xena nodded and walked out of the house, whistling for Argo and wondering which route would be the slowest way to get to Amphipolis.
*********************************************************
When they reached home, Gabrielle ushered Xena into the kitchen and found her a chair. After introducing herself, her mother and her sister, she sat and studied Xena while her mother tended to Xena’s head wound. Xena looked even more impressive once she had her leather armor on and Gabrielle couldn’t help admiring her strong arms and powerful legs. What she wouldn’t give to be that strong ... not to mention that tall; Gabrielle was really getting tired of Lila’s short jokes. Gabrielle wondered how long it had taken Xena to learn to fight like that. It wouldn’t be easy, but Gabrielle was willing (and, according to her parents, stubborn) enough to try. She wished her mother would hurry up and finish tending Xena’s wound. She hoped Xena would spend the night, so they could talk. Xena must know a lot of stories ... though most of them were probably a bit gory, considering her reputation.
But it wasn’t really stories Gabrielle was most interested in. She wanted to ask Xena if she could travel with her. Life in Poteidaia was so boring that Gabrielle sometimes felt she was suffocating under the weight of it. She’d tried to be the girl her parents wanted her to be, like every other girl in town. But Gabrielle wasn’t like everyone else. She was bored by things the other girls enjoyed, like knitting and cooking and planning their weddings and how many babies they’d have. And all the things Gabrielle liked—memorizing maps and writing poems and finding pictures in the stars and thinking about the mysteries of the universe—were things she couldn’t talk to anyone else about without their eyes glazing over, not even Lila. She didn’t hate Perdicus, but she didn’t love him either. She knew he’d been crazy about her since they were kids, but instead of being flattered by his attention, it was just one more burden for her to bear.
So Gabrielle had prayed to the Fates to deliver her from a life of unrelenting tedium. And who should show up in answer to her prayers but Xena? Normally, a bloodthirsty warlord would only be evidence that the Fates had a sense of humor, but Gabrielle remembered how Xena fought the slavers without hesitation (not to mention without weapons or armor), and she remembered that strange feeling that had passed through her when their eyes met. Gabrielle took that as a sign that Xena was the answer to her prayers. Now she just had to convince Xena. She couldn’t come right out and explain about the Fates though ... that would just sound weird. She’d have to try a different tactic.
She decided to start with praise, something Xena probably didn’t hear very often. She launched into a recap of the battle (good practice for when she wrote it down later) and tried to duplicate the fancy kick Xena had done. It turned out to be harder than she’d thought and she slipped and fell on her backside. She ignored Lila’s eye-roll and jumped back up, finishing the tale and peppering Xena with questions. “That thing you did with the hoop, that was amazing. Where did you get that? Did you make it yourself? And that kick you do ... you’ve got to teach me.”
Before Xena could answer, Gabrielle’s father came in with Perdicus and some other villagers. Gabrielle introduced her father to Xena and wondered if he was there to reward her for saving the women of the village. That ought to put Xena in a good mood. A moment later, her expectations were shattered. “Xena, we’d like you to move on.”
Gabrielle couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Talk about gratitude ... . “Move on? Father, she should rest here until her would is healed.”
As usual, her father ignored her feelings. “Gabrielle, hush. We don’t want any trouble with you, Xena. We know your reputation. We just want you to join up with your army and move on.”
A look of annoyance crossed Xena’s face. “I don’t have an army anymore.”
Gabrielle was trying to think of something supportive to say when her mother suddenly spoke. “Of course she doesn’t. That’s why she’s trying to befriend us. She wants to recruit our young men to the slaughter, like she did in Amphipolis.”
Gabrielle thought Xena would reply, but she simply looked at the floor, her jaw clenched. Gabrielle could see her mother’s words had hurt Xena and felt bad for the warrior. “Mother, that’s not fair. You’re not giving her a chance.”
“Gabrielle, hold your tongue for once,” her father said.
Gabrielle wasn’t ready to give up yet. “But father, she saved—”
Xena suddenly spoke, ending the stand-off. “That’s all right, I planned to move on anyway.”
Gabrielle’s father gave Xena one of his stern looks. “Don’t take too long.”
Her father led the villagers outside, but Perdicus stayed behind, grabbing Gabrielle’s arm. “Come on, Gabrielle.”
She pulled away, tired of Perdicus always thinking he knew what was best for her. He didn’t understand her any better than anyone else in Poteidaia. “Hey, just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean you can boss me around. I want to stay and talk to Xena.” Perdicus wasn’t happy, but he left, followed by Lila and their mother.
Xena finished putting her boots on and looked about ready to leave, so Gabrielle knew she didn’t have any time to waste. “You’ve got to take me with you and teach me everything you know. You can’t leave me here.”
“Why?” Xena said, checking her travel bag.
“Did you see the guy they want me to marry?”
“He looks like a gentle soul. That’s rare in a man.”
Gabrielle wondered how she could explain without telling Xena her entire life story. She decided to tell the truth. “It’s not the gentle part I have a problem with. It’s the dull, stupid part. Xena, I’m not cut out for this village life. I was born to do so much more. I could be very valuable to you.”
Gabrielle saw Xena’s mouth twist and realized she was stifling a laugh. “How could you be valuable to me?”
“I’ve studied the stars, spoken with philosophers, and I have the gift of prophecy.” All right, maybe that was laying it on a bit thick, but she had to convince Xena not to leave without her.
The corner of Xena’s mouth rose in a half-smile. “Then you already know I’m not taking you with me.”
“Oh please, Xena, I know I seem like just a silly, innocent girl, but I don’t want to be.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry to lose your innocence. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever,” Xena said, her tone a bit wistful.
Gabrielle said the first thing that popped into her head. “But I want so much to be like you.”
Xena turned with a look of disbelief on her face ... and maybe a trace of anger. “Like me? Why? Look at all you’ve got it your life ... a home, a mother, a father, a nice guy who wants to marry you. Don’t be a fool. You don’t want to be me.”
At first, Gabrielle was stunned ... who wouldn’t want to be a tall, ass-kicking warrior, who travelled the countryside having adventures. But then she thought about Xena’s words and was even more shocked when she realized Xena sounded ... envious. Gabrielle thought about all the things Xena had mentioned—her home, her family, her betrothed—and saw that Xena didn’t have any of those things anymore. She’d lost all that when she’d become a warlord and even if she was a good person now (and Gabrielle firmly believed she was), she couldn’t get any of those things back. No wonder Xena was upset with her; she was taking for granted all the things Xena had lost. Gabrielle saw how lonely Xena must be, not having a home or family anymore, and never being able to stay in one place since people hated and mistrusted everywhere she went. That realization didn’t weaken Gabrielle’s resolve to join up with Xena, in fact it strengthened it. She now knew what she could offer Xena ... friendship.
But someone like Xena would never admit she wanted (much less needed) a friend, so Gabrielle would have to be clever. She looked down at the floor to hide the gleam in her eyes. “I guess you’re right. I’ve got it pretty good here.” She waited until Xena’s back was turned and casually asked, “So, where are you headed next?”
“Amphipolis.”
Gabrielle tried to picture her father’s maps. “That’s in Thrace, isn’t it? I like to study maps and place names. So, what route do you usually take?”
Xena’s voice hardened. “Don’t even think about it.”
Gabrielle tried to look like she had no idea what Xena meant. “What?”
“Following me.” Xena leaned toward Gabrielle and gave her a look that had probably scared many a warlord. “You don’t want to make me mad now, do you?”
Gabrielle shook her head, but she could tell by Xena’s voice that she wasn’t really angry. Xena walked out of the house without even a goodbye, but Gabrielle wasn’t offended. She’d already started planning her exodus from Poteidaia. She’d follow Xena and prove to the warrior how valuable she could be, no matter what it took.
****************************************************
In Draco’s camp, the warlord was practicing catching arrows. It was something he’d seen Xena do many years ago and now that he knew she was in the area, he thought it best to get some practice in. He’d done well with two and even three, so he ordered four men to shoot at the same time. As the arrows flew toward him, he plucked three of them out of the air, but the fourth grazed his arm, drawing blood. Pulling the arrow from the target behind him, he examined the fletching. “Who has the green arrows?”
Three of the archers backed away, leaving the one with the green-fletched arrows to stare nervously as Draco approached. Draco smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder. “Ares has smiled on you.” He glanced to his third-in-command, Gar. “Sign him up. Get the others out of my sight.” He looked over at Hector, who wore a pained expression. “Hector, how’s the throat?”
“Next time I see her, I’ll kill her,” Hector rasped.
Draco chuckled. “Pray to the gods you never have to deliver on that boast.”
Xena watched the exchange with interest, thinking that Draco had gotten pretty skilled at catching arrows. She’d have to be careful of his speed if they ended up fighting. But she hadn’t come to fight and was hoping to finish her business quickly and be on her way. She waited until Draco entered his tent and the patrols called an all clear, then she moved to the tent flap and slipped inside.
Draco’s back was turned as he studied a parchment, probably a list of his troops. Draco had always been good at organization. “Hello, Draco.”
He spun with his sword raised; yeah, definitely quicker than before. “Xena, you look good.”
“So do you, except for that ugly scar.” She walked up to him and ran her fingers down the mark on his face.
“It’s nice of you to give me something to remember you by.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it toward him.
She pulled back, just to test his strength. “You picked the wrong woman to get rough with.”
“It never would’ve happened if you’d been more cooperative.” Draco pulled her hand toward his mouth to kiss it. Xena could’ve resisted, but she decided to let him have his moment of fun. “What are you doing here? If you wanted to kill me—”
“You’d be dead,” Xena stated, removing her hand from his grasp. She found it hard to look him in the eye, so she stepped past him and spoke over her shoulder. “I want to ask a favor.”
Draco barked a short laugh. “A favor! The last time I saw you, you cut my face in half. Why would I do you a favor?”
Xema grinned. “Because I only cut your face when I should’ve cut your throat.”
Draco chuckled and walked over to the fur-covered bed, leaning against it. “What do you want?”
“Your men were at a village today ... Poteidaia.”
Draco nodded. “I heard they got a large dose of the Warrior Princess.”
Xena turned and walked over to face him. “I want you to spare that village.”
Draco scoffed. “Why do you care about those peasants?”
Xena’s mind turned back and she almost smiled. “One of them reminds me of myself, a long time ago.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “She must be quite a girl. I could have mercy on that village, if ...”
“If what?”
Draco’s eyes lit up. “If you join with me. We’d make an invincible team.”
Xena shook her head. “I can’t. I’m out of that business.”
Draco frowned. “What does that mean?”
Xena took a deep breath. “It means on my last few raids, I heard screams.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve heard plenty of screams before.”
“This time I heard them in here,” she said, pointing to her chest. “I never want to hear innocents scream like that again.”
“This is crazy. You’re having some kind of breakdown. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I’m thinking straight for the first time in my life. From here on out, I fight against evil.”
Draco’s temper rose and he stood, his face twisted in anger. “All right, fine. If it’s evil you want to fight, draw your weapon right now. Because you’ll look a long time before you find worse than me.” Draco pulled a dagger and laid it against Xena’s throat, but she didn’t even blink. “I’ve dreamt of being with you in love or against you in battle, but you won’t give me the satisfaction of either, will you? Will you?”
Xena looked him in the eyes, her gaze steady. “I can’t. I’m going home.”
Draco slowly pulled back the dagger and sheathed it. “I’ll spare that village, for old time’s sake.”
“Thank you,” Xena said, and she meant it. She hadn’t been sure he’d agree and wasn’t looking forward to fighting him over the issue.
As Xena turned to leave, Draco grabbed her arm. “What do you hope to find back in Amphipolis? Forgiveness? I tried to go home once. My father almost beat me to death with a blacksmith’s hammer. I had to kill him to get him to stop. You’ll get the same treatment, I guarantee it.”
Xena gave him a half smile. She knew he was probably right about the reception she’d get in Amphipolis, but she had to try. “Goodbye, Draco.” She strode out of the tent and into the darkness.
**********************************************************
Gabrielle lay in her bed, listening to the sounds around her. She could tell by Lila’s breathing that she was asleep, but she had to be sure their parents were in bed before she made her move. She hoped her mother would be tired after the day’s excitement—Lila certainly had been—and that her father wouldn’t stay up too late once mother was in bed. Gabrielle felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of leaving home and asked herself for the hundredth time if she was making the right decision. But every time she remembered Xena’s face and the way she’d fought off those bandits, she knew leaving was the right choice. She loved her family and friends, and she knew they loved her, but she’d always known she was different from everyone else in town. If she stayed in Poteidaia, she’d have to stifle that part of herself that wanted to know everything, that wanted to go to all the places on her father’s maps, to see things for herself instead of just hearing about them second-hand from whatever traveller happened by. Trying to repress that part of herself would be torture. Or maybe she’d just lose those feelings completely, lose her curiosity and her sense of adventure and become like everyone else. That was a chance she wasn’t prepared to take.
She hadn’t heard any sounds for a while, so she quietly got out of bed, pulling her travel cloak from under her pillow. She’d made sure to pack a bag ahead of time and had worn her clothes to bed, just to make things easier. As she tiptoed through the darkened room, she cast a wistful glance back at her sister, Lila, sleeping contentedly in the next bed. Gabrielle wished she could say goodbye, but Lila would just be upset and that would delay her. Or worse, Lila might wake mother and father. Gabrielle picked up the bag at the end of the bed and made her way toward the door. The floorboards creaked and she paused to make sure Lila hadn’t woken up. When she turned back toward the door, she upset a small table, knocking a bowl to the floor with a crash. So much for a silent exit.
Lila lurched up in bed and gave Gabrielle a confused look as she set the table upright, hoping her parents hadn’t heard the ruckus. “What’s in the bag?” Lila asked, blinking the sleep from her eyes.
Well, no point in trying to sneak out now. Gabrielle walked softly to Lila’s bed and sat down. “Lila, I’m going to join up with Xena.”
Gabrielle had expected Lila to be sad at her departure, so she was a bit miffed when the younger girl burst out laughing. Gabrielle clapped her hand over Lila’s mouth and looked toward the door, hoping her parents hadn’t heard. Lila’s eyes widened and Gabrielle removed her hand. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“Absolutely. I’m going to be a warrior, like her.”
“A warrior? Gabrielle, I can beat you up,” Lila said with a smirk.
Gabrielle frowned. “Yeah, well, you’re very strong for your age. Besides, I have other talents.”
“You mean like the gift of prophecy?” Lila said, her voice full of sarcasm.
Gabrielle was offended by her tone, so she fibbed a bit. “I mentioned it to Xena and she was very impressed.”
“Did you tell her you predicted a drought last year just before the flood?”
She would have to bring that up. “The important thing is I knew there was a big rain thing about to happen. Lila, you know I’m different than everybody else in this town.”
“I know you’re crazy.”
“Well, call it whatever you like. The point is, I don’t fit in here. And the thought of marrying Perdicus ...”
Lila grabbed Gabrielle’s hand. “He loves you, you know?”
“But I don’t love him. And mother and father don’t understand me at all.”
Lila looked down at the bed. “They can be pretty hard on you sometimes.”
Gabrielle squeezed Lila’s hand. “I’ve got to do this, Lila. If I stay here, I’ll die.”
Lila looked at her. “Don’t be so dramatic, Gabrielle. It’s not that bad here.”
Gabrielle shook her head. “I don’t mean my body will die, I mean my spirit, my soul. Whatever it is that makes me who I am will wither away and disappear if I stay here. Can you understand that?”
Lila studied Gabrielle’s face for a long moment, then nodded, tears in her eyes. “But I’m gonna miss you so much.”
Gabrielle hugged her sister, suddenly glad about her earlier clumsiness. At least they’d gotten the chance to say goodbye. Maybe that was the Fates at work too. Gabrielle finally loosened her grip and leaned back, trying to smile even though her own eyes were brimming with tears. “Cheer up. You’ll finally have a room of your own.” She stood up, still holding Lila’s hand. “Take care of mother. Don’t let her carry the water from the well herself.”
“All right.”
Gabrielle collected her cloak and bag and walked softly to the door. She turned and gave Lila a final wave goodbye, trying to ignore the look of anguish on her sister’s face. Her heart was heavy and she almost lost her resolve. But she knew this was probably her only chance at a life outside Poteidaia ... she couldn’t turn back now. With a final look at Lila, she slipped through the bedroom door and made her way through the darkened house. She eased the front door open and edged through, closing it behind her as carefully as possible. She kept to the shadows as she made her way out into the fields. She’d watched Xena leave that afternoon and noted she had headed northeast. That fit with Gabrielle’s recollection of where Amphipolis was; she hadn’t been able to get hold of her father’s maps, so she’d just have to trust her memory. She knew there was a road that followed the coast, but that would take twice as long and Xena might be gone by the time she got there. So she’d just have to take the trade roads and hope she could find the right one to get her to Amphipolis. She slung her bag over her shoulder and jogged across the fields toward the road. If she’d bothered to look back, she’d have seen Perdicus, watching from his window with a look of utter confusion on his face.
But she didn’t look back.
**************************************************
Xena rode toward a wooden bridge over a river, wondering again which road she should take to Amphipolis. Part of her was looking forward to seeing her mother again, but she knew her reception would be anything but warm. Maybe she’d take the long way home. When she reached the bridge, Argo stopped, pawing nervously at the ground. Xena looked and listened, but could detect no one creeping up on them, and the bridge looked as sturdy as it had the last time they’d crossed it. She urged Argo forward, but the mare refused to set one hoof on the bridge. Finally, Xena dismounted and took Argo’s reins, pulling her gently onto the bridge. “Come on girl, we can make it.”
Xena led Argo across the bridge, which felt perfectly sound under her feet. “That’s it. Easy. There. Easy enough, huh? What’s the problem?” Argo reared and pulled against the reins in Xena’s hand. She pulled back, but let up, not wanting to injure Argo when she was clearly terrified. As soon as Xena let go of the reins, Argo turned and cantered back across the bridge without a backward glance.
Xena couldn’t understand what had Argo so spooked, but she figured it out pretty fast when a Cyclops jumped out from behind a rock and raised a huge hammer over his shoulder. No wonder Argo was so worried; she must’ve smelled the brute. Xena was about to draw her sword when she noticed the mass of scar tissue around the Cyclops’ eye and realized she’d met this particular giant before. She’d run into him about a month ago threatening a small village in Greece. Instead of killing him she’d merely blinded him, not that the people she’d saved had been all that grateful.
She dodged his first swing and stepped back as he sniffed the air. “Smell trouble?”
“It’s you! Aaaargh!” the Cyclops roared as he tried to slam Xena with the massive hammer.
She sidestepped his clumsy swing and taunted him. “You’ve lost some weight since the last time I saw you.” She dodged another swing. “I guess that job I did on your eye must’ve cut down on the people-eating, huh?”
“Ever since you blinded me, a day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t dreamt of tasting your flesh.” As he pulled the hammer back for another swing, Xena flung her chakram at his belt, dropping his breeches around his knees. This time when she dodged his swing, he overbalanced and tripped over his own breeches, crashing to the ground as Xena skipped out of the way.
As the Cyclops lay bawling like an overgrown baby, Xena replaced her chakram and whistled for Argo, who trotted over the bridge without even a whinny of protest. As she prepared to mount Argo, Xena glanced at the Cyclops. “You know, you should find a different line of work.”
“Like what? I’m a blind Cyclops for Zeus’ sake.”
Xena mounted Argo. “You could hire yourself out to a village as a protector. Even a blind Cyclops would scare most folks off. And the villagers would probably toss you a sheep every now and again for payment.”
“Sheep?” the giant replied indignantly. “How could you start eating mutton when you’re used to the taste of human flesh?”
“Suit yourself,” Xena said, riding off without a backward glance.
*****************************************************
In Draco’s camp, the warlord listened to Gar’s report on Xena’s movements. “Xena was spotted riding toward the Strymon Pass.”
Draco nodded. “Hector, take two men and cut through the pass. Pick up her trail and send word as soon as she’s entered her home valley. We’ll march right through to Amphipolis and torch everything in sight. And spread the word that we’re doing it on Xena’s orders. Then she’ll know.”
“Know what?” Hector asked.
Draco thought about what Xena had said about fighting evil and going home. He didn’t think she’d be able to stick it out, and he was sure she’d find no welcome in Amphipolis, but he hated the thought that she might actually find some peace after all she’d done. Why should she have peace when he had to live with his misery every day? “She’ll know there’s no rest for the wicked.”
*********************************************************
So far, Gabrielle had followed the trade road and knew she was probably going in the right direction. When she saw the bridge, she paused. It reminded her of that old wooden bridge over the river near Poteidaia. That bridge had collapsed years ago, leaving only a few broken timbers jutting out over the canyon. She wondered if this bridge would collapse when she walked on it. Surely it must be sturdy since it was on the trade road. And if Xena had used it, Gabrielle’s weight certainly shouldn’t make it fall. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a bit shaky as she stepped out onto the wooden planking. “The bridge will hold me up, the bridge will hold me up,” she repeated over and over, not sure if it was a prayer or simply a way of occupying her mind during the crossing.
She reached the other side without incident and looked back, feeling a little foolish about her unfounded fears. The bridge had hardly trembled as she crossed it. If she was going to travel with Xena, she’d better learn not to be afraid of every little thing. She squared her shoulders and strode forward. “Being an adventuress isn’t that hard.”
She heard a noise in front of her, but before she could react, a Cyclops with a terrible scar where his eye used to be popped up from behind a rock and set a wooden cage over her. “Gotcha!”
Gabrielle was so scared she could hardly move, but knew she had to concentrate and find a way out of this fix. Maybe an imprecation to the gods would work. “Immortal father Zeus in heaven, curse this brute if he eats me! Torture him with the slain serpents’ blood and the crows’ droppings—”
Her diatribe didn’t impress the Cyclops too much. “Shut up! I hate chatty food.”
So, not afraid of the gods. Maybe something less divine. “I know Xena, the Warrior Princess.”
“I hate Xena, the Warrior Princess, she blinded me. It’ll give me great pleasure to rip one of her friend apart with my teeth.” He reached for Gabrielle through the openings in the cage.
Gabrielle shrank back and knew she’d made another mistake, but maybe she could turn this one to her advantage. “Friend? Who said anything about friend? I’ve been tracking her to kill her.”
The Cyclops stopped. “How is a young thing like you gonna kill Xena?”
Gabrielle thought quickly. “That’s the point. She’d never let a man get close enough to do her—at least, not that kind of ‘do her’—but a young, innocent-looking girl like me, I’ll catch her totally off guard, cut her evil throat, and cut off her Cyclops-blinding hands.” That last detail had just come to her and she was rather proud of it.
The Cyclops seemed to like it too. “You’re really gonna mess her up, huh?”
Gabrielle came up with another tidbit she thought he’d appreciate. “You know what I think I’ll do to her?”
“What?”
“Blind her. Gouge out them eyeballs and bring ’em back to you. It’ll make a nice little appetizer, don’t you think?”
“Ooh, you’d do that for me?”
Gabrielle used her most serious voice. “I feel we’re bonded in our hatred of this she-demon.”
That did it. The Cyclops lifted the cage. “Go on. And if you’d bring me a leg too, I’d appreciate it.”
“A leg? She’s got two, doesn’t she? You’ll get them both.”
“And maybe a—”
Gabrielle thought she’d better assert herself to show she wasn’t afraid of him ... even though she was terrified. “Hey! Let’s not get greedy.”
“Sorry.”
Gabrielle edged around the Cyclops, who was now sniffing the air, probably looking for his next victim. She thought she’d better say something reassuring before he changed his mind. “Xena’s blood, or die!” The Cyclops laughed and nodded, probably anticipating the feast he’d have when Gabrielle returned with Xena’s various body parts. Once she was safely past, Gabrielle breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods for dumb Cyclopses.”
***************************************************
Xena rode through the pass, taking her time and enjoying the countryside. She hadn’t been on this route in years, but could still remember every bend in the trail like it was yesterday. She was thinking about what she’d told Draco, about how she was dedicating her life to fighting evil from now on. When had she decided that? A day ago, she’d been ready to give up on trying to help people who only looked at her with anger or fear. But when she’d told Draco she was finished with her old life, she’d meant it. What had changed? She thought about the fight with Draco’s men near Poteidaia, but that had turned out like all her other good deeds; the people she’d saved had looked at her with anger, fear, mistrust ... all except that one girl, Gabrielle.
Xena recalled the look of wonder on the girl’s face and her desperation when she’d asked Xena to take her along. Xena almost laughed out loud. Imagine bringing some chattering waif along as she travelled around fighting warlords. But then she remembered the strange sensation she’d felt when their eyes met during the fight. And afterwards, the girl was the only one who hadn’t been afraid of her. She’d actually stood up for her against the other villagers, and even against her own family. Why would she do that? What did she see in Xena that no one else could? Maybe that was what had made Xena’s mind up about fighting evil. Maybe having someone—anyone—believe in her like that made it easier to believe in herself.
As she rode through a wooded area, Xena became aware she was being followed. Her keen senses told her there were three of them, on horseback, and not exactly stealthy. She rode through a thicket and quickly cantered forward, widening the distance from her unseen pursuers. After directing Argo to keep going until she reached a clearing, Xena leapt up to a branch overhead and swung silently into a tree to await her followers. They rode by within minutes and even if she hadn’t recognized Hector on the lead horse, the blue armbands would’ve given them away as Draco’s men. She smiled when she saw a cloth bandage tied around Hector’s bruised throat.
She let Hector and the second rider pass before kicking the last rider off his horse into a bush and taking his place. The other two didn’t notice anything amiss, so she rode up behind the second and flipped onto the horse right behind him. A silent double-strike to the neck knocked him out and she rolled him out of the saddle onto the soft turf, hoping the noise of the horses moving through the shrubs would cover the sound of impact. Apparently it did, because Hector didn’t turn around. Xena followed behind him on her borrowed horse until they came out into the clearing where Argo was waiting.
Hector reined his horse in and gazed at Argo, noting the empty saddle. “What do you think?” he said softly over his shoulder.
“I think you’ve got a sore throat.” Xena saw Hector stiffen in surprise and before he could turn, she tackled him out of the saddle, knocking him to the ground and rolling him over. She darted her fingers forward to three precise spots on his neck. “I’ve just blocked off the flow of blood to your brain. You’ll be dead in twenty seconds unless I release it. Now why are you following me?” Of course, Xena knew the Pinch would take longer than twenty seconds to kill Hector, but she thought the short deadline might motivate him to talk. Blood began to run from his nose, but he still wouldn’t talk, so Xena prompted him. “Ten seconds.”
Hector finally gave in. “Draco sent me.”
“Draco.” She could’ve guessed that much.
“He plans to destroy your home valley.”
A cold ball of fear roiled in Xena’s stomach. Draco must be more upset about her refusing his offer than she’d thought. She never should’ve have told him she planned to go home. She released the Pinch and said, “You’ll regain feeling in a few minutes.” She ran toward Argo and mounted swiftly. She could no longer afford to take her time reaching Amphipolis. She had to get there before Draco, which meant leaving the roads and striking out across country.
**********************************************************
Gabrielle lay in the middle of the road, her arms splayed out and her bag beside her, and opened an eye to look at the approaching cart. Only one person on it, and an older man at that; he didn’t look too dangerous. She only hoped he’d stop and not simply go around her ... or over her. But he did stop, climbing down from the cart and walking up to her supine form. “Hey, hey!” He gave her a small shove with his boot. “Are you dead?”
Gabrielle raised her head to look at him. “Where are you headed?”
“Amphipolis.”
“Great, it worked.” She jumped up, excited that her plan had borne fruit. “I have been lying here, supplicating myself to the great god Hermes, God of Travellers, begging him to send someone who’s on the way to Amphipolis. Hah! And here you are. It’s a miracle, don’t you think?”
The old man didn’t seem all that impressed with her pronouncement. “Not really.” He gestured to the rough dirt path on which they stood. “This is the road to Amphipolis. Anybody that’d come along here would’ve been headed there.”
“Yeah, but not everybody’s a kindly old man who’ll give me a ride.”
The old man turned to walk back toward his wagon. “You’re right about that. I know I’m not gonna give you a ride.”
So much for her plan. Since subterfuge hadn’t worked, Gabrielle thought some begging might be in order. “Oh, no, no, you’ve got to. I’ll never make it by myself. I didn’t bring enough food. I’ve already gotten lost twice. I wore the wrong shoes, look ...” She lifted her foot to show him.
He barely glanced at her shoe. “Look, I’m sorry but I ain’t got any room.”
Gabrielle noticed the wagon was piled with trade goods. If this man was a merchant, maybe money would change his mind. Too bad Gabrielle hadn’t brought any. But maybe just the promise of money would work. “My father will give you a handsome reward when we reach Amphipolis. He’s very rich.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dolan,” Gabrielle answered, saying the first name that popped into her head ... which just happened to be the name of Perdicus’s father.
The old man thought for a moment, then pointed a finger at her. “Dolan? The horse breeder?”
Wow, how lucky could she get. “Best horses in Thrace. I’ll make sure he gives you a fresh steed for your troubles.”
The old man laughed heartily and Gabrielle joined him, thinking for a minute that her ruse had worked. “There ain’t no horse dealers in Amphipolis. It’s all sheep country.”
Damn, she should’ve listened more closely to the farmers’ talk in the market in Poteidaia. But she’d always found that stuff boring; she much preferred adventure stories. If she was going to be a traveller, she’d better start paying attention to the more practical details. The old man started climbing back into the wagon and Gabrielle became desperate. “I’ve been told that I’m very pleasant company on a trip. I can sing. I know several poems, which I recite with great passion. A travelling bard once gave me lessons. ‘I sing of Oedipus, King of Thebes, the most tragic of men.’”
“Whoa, whoa,” the old man said, looking down at her with a frown.
“What’s the matter?”
“You’re going to tell me about Oedipus? Hah! I knew Oedipus. I grew up in Thebes when he was king.”
Gabrielle knew this was one of those times when she’d be better off listening than talking. “You knew Oedipus? I’d love to hear all about him.”
The old man’s expression softened and he turned in his seat. “Oh well, I guess I could make room for you up here somewhere.”
Gabrielle quickly climbed into the wagon before he changed his mind, settling on some bags of grain. “Oh, no, no need. I’ll just sit on top.”
“Oedipus the most tragic of men,” the old man said with a laugh. “Biggest fool of all men, more like.”
Gabrielle leaned forward. “You knew him personally?”
“Well, no, not personally, but ...” He flicked the traces to start his horse on the way. “I saw him around.”
******************************************************
Xena’s cross-country ride shortened her trip considerably and she saw no sign that Draco or his men had preceded her. When she came out into her home valley, she stopped and looked down, her heart feeling lighter despite the dire circumstances. She hadn’t been here for so long, but the place looked the same, with farmers gathering sheaves in the fields and smoke coming from the chimneys of the village. She couldn’t help smiling as the sounds of the traditional harvest song came to her ears. She rode through the hay fields and into town, navigating the familiar streets until she found herself in front of her mother’s inn. She’d taken off her breastplate, but still wore her leathers and carried her sword, in case Draco showed up. She dismounted and walked inside before she lost her nerve. She was more worried about this than she had been facing the Cyclops, or Draco, or the last ten warlords she’d fought. Would her mother welcome her? Shun her? Drive her back out into the streets with a curse? That last one seemed most likely. Crossing the threshold, she gave silent thanks her mother wasn’t a blacksmith.
As she strode through the crowded inn, conversation around her stopped, then resumed in her wake. Her sensitive ears picked up the mention of her name, so they certainly hadn’t forgotten her. She saw some familiar faces and a few she didn’t know. They might’ve moved to town in the last ten years, or maybe they’d been children when she left and were grown now, changed so much she didn’t know them. But they all knew her.
She looked around for her mother and turned as she heard a familiar step from the back. Her mother bustled into the common room, a dishrag in hand, but she stopped dead when she saw Xena, a look of shock on her face. The whole room went silent as mother and daughter studied each other. Xena noticed new lines on her mother’s face, but she still looked good and seemed to be in good health. Her mother suddenly stepped forward and for a moment Xena wondered if she was going to slap her—a hug was out of the question—but she couldn’t believe it when her mother reached out and pulled Xena’s heavy sword from its scabbard. She held the sword in both hands, moving the point toward Xena’s throat. The patrons all scrambled away, not wanting to get in the middle of this family squabble.
For a moment, Xena wondered if her mother would actually kill her. If that was her destiny, she vowed to accept it without protest. But Cyrene lowered the sword and said, “Weapons aren’t welcome in my tavern.” She turned and set the sword on top of the bar. “Neither are you. What are you doing here?”
A thousand things ran through Xena’s mind, things she’d wanted to say for years, like how sorry she was and how she wished things had turned out differently. But with Draco on the warpath, she had no time for sentiment. “Mother, listen. The warlord Draco is marching on this valley.”
“And you need to borrow a few men for an army, right?”
Xena should’ve expected that, considering what had happened last time she urged the people of Amphipolis to defend themselves from a warlord. Still, she had to try. “I can help organize a defense.”
“Give it up, Xena,” Cyrene said, as she cleared the tables.
“I know Draco. I know the way he thinks. I know what his weaknesses are. If we act now, we stand a good chance of stopping him.”
“You think we’re fools? We all remember what happened the last time you talked like that.” A chorus of voices from around the inn piped up, agreeing with Cyrene.
Xena wasn’t surprised at the hatred directed toward her, but it was making them blind to the true threat. “You’re all in great danger!”
Cyrene turned to face her. “Even if that were true, we would rather die before accepting help from you again.” Another murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. “Go away, Xena. This is not your town anymore. These are not your people. I am not your mother!” With that, Cyrene stalked out of the room carrying some dirty crockery. Xena looked around and saw nothing but hostility. She knew she’d never convince them of her good intentions; she couldn’t even convince them Draco was about to attack. These people were doomed and it was her fault. She rushed out of the inn, wishing her mother had used a hammer after all ... it would’ve hurt less.
****************************************************
In Draco’s camp, the warlord was making his last preparations before sweeping into Xena’s home valley. He was confident she wouldn’t be able to stop him alone, and there was no way anyone in Amphipolis would help her. Still, Draco wasn’t happy that Xena now knew about his plans. “Hector, I sent you to follow her so we’d know what she’s doing, not so you could tell her what we’re doing.”
“Look, I had no choice.”
“Neither do I. Choose a weapon.” When Hector hesitated, Draco glanced over his shoulder. “Now!”
Hector stepped over to the weapon rack and selected a spear, lining up for a charge as Draco strode over to the map table and addressed Gar. “Get the men ready for a forced march. What’s the state of the troops?”
Hector came at Draco, thinking he was distracted, but he grabbed the spear and used Hector momentum to flip him over. “The first and second divisions are about ready now. The third is stationed at the Strymon Pass,” Gar replied to Draco’s question, ignoring the fight.
Draco walked away, tossing the spear over his shoulder for Hector to catch. “Mobilize one and two. They can take the high road to the sea.” Hector charged and Draco back-flipped over him, slamming his feet into Hector’s back and sending him tumbling forward. Draco landed perfectly and continued issuing orders. “The third division can join us at Thrace.”
“They can take the Strymon Road and be there in two days,” Gar assured him.
Draco tensed as Hector ran at him again, the spear aimed at his heart. “No, the pass doesn’t offer enough cover.” He deflected the point of the spear up over his shoulder, grabbing it in a tight grip. “march them north, across the foot of the mountains.” He snapped the head of the spear off and whirled, snapping off a portion of the shaft with a spinning back-kick. “Then they can cut east”—he lashed another kick to the spear shaft, shortening it some more—“to the northern border.” He lashed a backfist to Hector’s face. “We’ll flank Amphipolis on both sides and crush them,” he continued, battering away at Hector. “if they offer any resistance ...” He punctuated the statement with a heavy kick, sending Hector flying backwards into the weapon rack.
Draco turned away. “Saddle my war horse.” He sensed Hector rising behind him and heard the faint rasp as he pulled an axe from under the pile of fallen weapons. Before Hector could use the axe, Draco pulled his dagger and spun, flinging it straight into Hector’s chest. As he fell, Draco nodded in satisfaction and said, “Get someone to clean off my knife.” He turned to go, but stopped. “Oh, and Gar? When we find her, she’s mine.”
After seeing Draco’s form of discipline first-hand, Gar wasn’t about to argue. “Yes, sir.”
*******************************************************
When night fell, the old man stopped at a wayside inn, assuring Gabrielle that Amphipolis was only a short distance away. But he refused to travel at night, since he’d heard rumours of Draco being in the area, and when Gabrielle had suggested she might go on alone he cautioned her against it, telling her it would be best to wait until morning. She saw the sense in that and—as much as she hated to admit it—she was rather tired and footsore, so she welcomed the rest.
At first, she’d been a little wary of the rough-hewn teamsters and merchants gathered in the inn, but most of them seemed to know the old man, and when he mentioned she was a storyteller, they started clamoring for a tale. She told very riveting version of the Oedipus story, weaving in facts she’d gleaned from listening to the old man. She allowed herself to be swept away in the moment and although she was no trained actor, her passion for the craft and her youthful enthusiasm soon had everyone in the room spellbound, even the old man. When she finished, her audience sat in stunned silence for a moment and she became anxious, wondering if they hadn’t liked her style after all. But her fears were put to rest as the entire room erupted into applause and cheers, drowning out the old man’s feeble protests at the liberties she’d taken with the story.
A bear-like teamster named Kastor handed Gabrielle a cup of wine and raised his own cup in salute. “To the prettiest storyteller I ever come across.” The others raised their cups and drank before breaking up into small groups and moving off. Kastor sat down with Gabrielle and the old man. “Where you headed?”
“Amphipolis,” Gabrielle answered, taking a cautious sip of the wine. It was sweet and delicious, but she didn’t want to overdo it.
Kastor nodded. “You’ll reach there early tomorrow. You got friends in Amphipolis?”
Gabrielle wasn’t sure how to answer that. Xena wasn’t exactly a friend, but if everything worked out the way Gabrielle hoped ... . “Well, yes, one. Xena.”
Conversation around her ceased immediately and the smiles faded from everyone’s faces, including Kastor’s. A tough-looking man stood up and walked to the door of the inn, dropping a heavy bar across it. Gabrielle swallowed hard and wondered if she should tell them she wanted to kill Xena; after all, it worked with the Cyclops.
“Young lady,” Kastor said, “you were kind enough to tell us a story. Let me return the favor and tell you one about Xena.” Gabrielle had heard bits and pieces of Xena’s past, but she knew how stories could become distorted over the years, with numerous tellings and re-tellings. She hoped these people, who lived so close to Amphipolis, might give her a truer version. “Xena grew up in the next valley, just outside of Amphipolis. She was a natural-born leader, even as a young girl. When a warlord named Cortese tried to enslave Amphipolis, the people ended up looking to her to save them. She organized an army of locals and off they went to fight the warlord.”
The old man smiled. “I remember that army. They were so full of goodness and hope. And they beat Cortese. They say Xena herself cut his throat.”
“No, it was Cortese’s lieutenant Xena killed,” another patron said. “Cortese got away.”
Kastor waved him down. “Whoever Xena killed, she liked doing it ... too much. She fell in love with blood and power. The young army that started out wanting to save the world turned into a tool of Ares.”
The old man shook his head with sadness. “They were all dead within a year. But that didn’t stop Xena; she just recruited another army.”
Kastor nodded. “And eventually, she started looting so she could hire mercenaries and brigands, which made her even more dangerous. She took ruffians who had the desire for mayhem but no real skill to speak of and turned them into trained killers.” Kastor leaned forward to look Gabrielle in the eye. “So be careful, young lady. A lot of people who trusted Xena are dead ... or worse.”
Later, in her room (which the innkeeper had offered free of charge because of all the extra business her storytelling had brought) Gabrielle pondered Kastor’s words. She didn’t think he was lying, and she’d always known Xena had been a warlord, but she couldn’t reconcile the Xena these people were talking about with the one she knew. Then again, how well did she really know Xena? Granted, she’d saved Gabrielle and her fellow villagers from Draco’s men, but did that make up for years of terrible deeds? Was Gabrielle risking ending up like one of those soldiers who’d trusted Xena so long ago, dead and forgotten by all but their families? But then Gabrielle remembered the look she and Xena had shared in the clearing, that strange connection that flashed between them so quickly but lingered in her mind so clearly afterwards. No, Xena wasn’t the same person Kastor had told her about ... somehow she just knew it, she felt it. So she resolved to continue to Amphipolis tomorrow no matter what, because she also had a strange feeling that Xena needed her help, whether Xena knew it or not.
******************************************************
Xena crept into her mother’s inn just as the sun was rising. She’d spent a miserable night in the woods outside Amphipolis, too nervous to sleep for fear of Draco’s army showing up. She didn’t think he’d attack at night, but it never paid to take chances where Draco was concerned. So he’d stayed awake all night, wracked by her guilt and tortured by her mother’s words, which kept playing over and over in her head. In her haste to get away the previous day, she’d forgotten her sword, and she knew she’d need it when Draco showed up. She never once considered riding away and leaving Amphipolis to its fate; her promise to dedicate her life to fighting evil had been sincere and she intended to honor it, no matter the consequences. She wondered if her mother would change her mind about her if Xena died defending Amphipolis; maybe she would, but it would be too late. But if her death could save her mother and everyone else, it was a price she was willing to pay.
She looked around and saw the sword lying on top of the bar, where Cyrene had placed it. She retrieved it and was examining it when Cyrene came in with some pitchers in her hand. She always had been an early riser. Cyrene didn’t speak and barely glanced at Xena, who slid the sword into her scabbard and moved toward the door. She stopped, hoping one last appeal might work. “If you won’t mount a defense, then you must leave here.”
“You came all this way just to say that?”
Xena suddenly felt self-conscious. She’d never been good at expressing her feelings with words, preferring to let her actions speak for her. “No, it wasn’t the only reason.”
“What other purpose could you have?”
Xena forced herself to look her mother in the eyes, hoping she’d see the truth behind Xena’s words. “I wanted to come home. I thought maybe this time I could get it right.”
Cyrene sighed. “I don’t think anything will ever take away the shame and sorrow you’ve brought on your kinsmen.”
Xena felt a stab of guilt, knowing her mother was right. “Probably not, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying. I want to start over again.”
Cyrene shook her head. “That’s impossible. Oh, Xena, I tried my best to raise you with a sense of right and wrong.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you be so independent.”
Xena swallowed the lump in her throat. “It breaks my heart to see you blaming yourself.”
Cyrene stared at her. “I don’t believe you. If you had a heart to break, you never would’ve done those terrible things.”
Xena stepped forward, taking Cyrene’s hand in hers. “Mother, listen to me, please. I’ve changed. I’ve dedicated my life to fighting evil. I’ll be good at it ... I fight evil in myself every day.”
Cyrene looked into Xena’s anguished face and for a moment, Xena thought she might have convinced her. But Cyrene shook her head, pulling her hand away. “How I wish I could believe you. Please, go now.”
Before Xena could continue pleading her case, the noise of horses and a babble of voices came from outside. She turned as a mob of villagers trooped through the door and assembled in front of her. They didn’t look happy. Andros, the First Citizen, stepped forward, his face dark with anger. “We know what you’re up to, Xena. And we won’t let you get away with it.”
Before Xena could answer, Cyrene spoke up. “What are you talking about?”
“Her army is burning fields in the west valley,” Andros said.
Xena turned to her mother. “That’s a lie. I don’t have an army anymore. It must be Draco.”
Andros leaned forward. “Then why are they carrying your banners and shouting your name?”
Xena realized Draco had outmaneuvered her. He must really want to punish her for turning down his offer ... and Amphipolis would end up paying for it. Cyrene gave Xena a look that went through her like a knife to the heart. “Do what you will with her.” She turned and ran into the back, tears in her eyes.
As the mob moved closer, Xena noticed for the first time that each of them was carrying a handful of stones. Her blood ran cold; she knew she could easily fight her way past them. She might even be able to scare them off without fighting. But then what? She still needed to bring them together to fight Draco, or lead them to safety. But they’d never trust her again, so what could she do? Xena wondered if this was what the Fates had in store for her, dying in her mother’s inn at the hands of her own townspeople. At least it would save her from having to watch Draco destroy Amphipolis. She almost smiled when she pictured Draco’s rage at finding out she’d been killed by peasants instead of at his hands. Well, if this was her destiny, so be it. She couldn’t fight her fellow citizens, not here, in her mother’s inn.
She squared her shoulders and her eyes swept over the crowd, seeing people she’d known since childhood, ready to kill her. She wondered if they’d really go through with it; she of all people knew how easy it was to turn from a good person into a killer. “Well, what are you waiting for? Take your revenge.” The people looked at each other, waiting for someone to throw the first stone. “It’s true what they, it’s sweet.” When nobody moved, Xena grew impatient. “What? Is one woman too much for you? Let me even the odds.” She pulled out her sword, noting with satisfaction how everyone backed up. She placed the sword on a table. “One unarmed woman might be more to your tastes.”
Silence gripped the room and for a moment, Xena thought she might’ve gotten through to them, made them see how they were turning into the very person they despised. But a girl in the front of the mob named Merene, who Xena remembered from her childhood, hauled off and threw a stone that bounced off Xena’s arm. Xena was surprised by the assault, until she recalled that Merene’s betrothed had been in Xena’s army and had never returned home. Merene’s act spurred the others on and more stones hit Xena in the chest and shoulder. It was only a matter of time before they struck her head, but she just couldn’t bring herself to retaliate.
Before she could figure out what to do, Xena heard a familiar voice from the back of the crowd. “Wait, wait, wait.” Xena could hardly believe her eyes when Gabrielle pushed her way through the mob to stand between them and Xena. Was this girl crazy? And how had she gotten here, anyway? She must’ve followed all the way from Poteidaia.
Gabrielle waved her hands in front of the agitated crowd. “Now, you don’t know me, I’m new in town. But I can assure you, Xena is a changed woman. I saw her do some heroic things in the name of good.”
Andros looked impatient to get on with the stoning. “Unless you’re suicidal, you’ll get out of the way. She’s brought Draco down on the valley.”
Gabrielle paused to take that in. “Draco? Now, he’s a scary guy, and I understand why you’re upset. But let me throw some logic at you.” Gabrielle looked back at Xena and nodded. Xena could hardly believe what was happening. The girl certainly had guts; Xena just hoped they wouldn’t end up spilled all over her mother’s nice clean floor. “Let’s say you stone Xena to death. First of all, I might point out you didn’t bring enough stones in here for a really good stoning.” That got everyone looking around at each other’s hands, checking the stone supply. Gabrielle took a breath and went on. “But let’s say there’s a whole rock quarry down the road and you’re able to really lay it to her. What have you got when you’re done? If I’m right, and Xena’s on the side of good, you’ve just killed your only ticket out of this mess.”
Andros shook his head. “Look, you’re wasting your breath. We’ll never put our faith in Xena again. I buried two sons because of her. Now get out of the way.”
Several people raised their hands to throw more stones, but instead of moving out of the way, Gabrielle stepped closer to them. Xena thought she must be either brave or crazy, but either way, she wouldn’t let these people hurt the girl. Killing Xena was one thing—she probably deserved it after all she’d put them through—but if they killed an innocent person in their unthinking lust for revenge, they’d never be able to live with it. Xena tensed, ready to jump to Gabrielle’s defense, but the girl had already switched to another tactic. “Now, hold on. Let’s say that you’re right and she’s Draco’s buddy. Let’s say she’s even his girlfriend.” Xena almost laughed at that, but didn’t want to break the spell the girl seemed to be weaving over the mob. “Well, what have you accomplished? You think that Draco’s bad news now? What do you think he’ll be like when he hears you’ve knocked off his woman?” Gabrielle shuddered very convincingly. “Oh boy, it scares me even to think about it.”
Xena watched as Andros and the others eyed each other, doubt finally showing on their faces. Xena knew anger was a hard thing to maintain; it sucked the energy from you and left you feeling empty. She wasn’t sure if it was Gabrielle’s words, or just the emotions of the mob petering out, but she sensed the danger was past. Andros turned to Gabrielle and said, “All right, but get Xena out of here now.”
Gabrielle backed up, nodding. “No problem.” She picked Xena’s sword up from the table and handed it to her, ignoring the glare Xena shot her. Gabrielle picked up Xena’s travel bag and followed as she made her way out of the inn.
Outside, Xena tied her travel bag to Argo’s saddle and stuck her sword in the saddle sheath. She was upset and couldn’t quite figure out why. It wasn’t the actions of the townspeople, she’d expected that; and it wasn’t the fact that the girl had defied her and followed her all the way here ... it was something else. She realized she was angry at the girl for risking her own safety. If the mob had killed her, it would’ve been Xena’s fault and she didn’t want another innocent person’s death on her concience.
“Hey, Xena?” Gabrielle asked, crowding in behind her.
“What?” Xena snapped.
“I could probably get up there behind you,” she said, pointing to Argo’s saddle.
“What are you talking about?” Xena said, fitting her foot to the stirrup.
“Wait, you’re not gonna just leave me here, are you?” Gabrielle said, the hurt in her voice obvious. “I came all this way just to see you.”
Xena swung into the saddle and looked down at her. “That is your problem.”
Gabrielle’s voice raised in anger and she pointed her finger at Xena. “Hey, I just saved your life.”
Xena looked down at the girl’s angry face and paused. What could she say? That she could’ve gotten away on her own? That maybe she didn’t really deserve to be saved? That she never asked this girl to follow her, to defend her? But she had defended her, and risked her own life to do it. Xena looked into Gabrielle’s eyes and saw the same faith she’d seen in Poteidaia, when she’d argued with her own family about Xena. Suddenly, the truth hit her like Zeus’s thunderbolt: Gabrielle hadn’t said all those things just because she wanted Xena to take her away from home, or to quiet the mob inside the inn. She said them because she really believed them. She really believed in Xena.
With a sigh, Xena extended her hand and Gabrielle’s face lit up in a smile. She grabbed Xena’s arm and Xena hauled her up, planting her on the saddle behind her. Gabrielle moved around in the saddle, trying to get comfortable, and slid her hands around Xena’s waist. “Where are we going?”
“To see my brother,” Xena replied, spurring Argo toward the edge of town.
*******************************************************
As they rode through a field toward a stone building, Gabrielle thought about the anger she’d heard in Xena’s voice after she’d talked those people out of stoning her. She didn’t think Xena was mad at her for following her all this way. She remembered how Xena had just stood there, letting the villagers throw stones at her. Thinking back to the weapons and armor Xena had buried outside Poteidaia, Gabrielle wondered if Xena had given up ... again. Her homecoming obviously hadn’t gone well. Gabrielle thought about the strange feeling she’d had since that look she and Xena had shared in the clearing. She was sure Xena needed something from her ... friendship, reassurance, faith. But when she’d defended Xena in the inn, Xena had seemed upset about it. Maybe Gabrielle was deluding herself. After all, what could a woman like Xena possibly need from an insignificant farm girl like her?
Xena reined in her horse outside the entrance to the stone building, which Gabrielle soon realized was a tomb. If Xena was here to visit her brother, that must mean he was dead. Xena dismounted nimbly, leaving Gabrielle to flop out of the saddle like a half-full sack of flour. “Wait here,” Xena said. “I won’t be long.” She headed ino the tomb and Gabrielle looked around at the bleak landscape. Aftr a minute or so, her natural curiosity overtook her and she tiptoed through the entrance of the tomb. Because of the way the stone chamber was constructed, she could hear Xena’s voice echoing off the walls, even though she barely spoke above a whisper. As Gabrielle took another few steps into the vestibule, Xena’s words became distinct.
“Since you’ve been gone, I kind of lost my way. Now, I found it. I thought I could start over, but no, they don’t trust me. Not even mother. I can’t blame her. She can’t see into my heart. But I’ve got to believe that you can. And I wish you were here. It’s hard to be alone.”
As she listened to Xena’s words, Gabrielle suddenly knew without a doubt why she’d followed Xena all this way, why she’d felt that strange connection between them. She knew what she could offer Xena that no one else could. As Xena’s words echoed around the tomb, Gabrielle stepped out from the doorway to give Xena what she needed most: “You’re not alone.”
Xena turned in surprise and Gabrielle smiled at her ... and as Xena smiled back, Gabrielle knew in her heart she was right.
******************************************************
On the ride back into town, Xena couldn’t help thinking about the girl nestled against her back in the saddle. When she’d told Xena she wasn’t alone, it had struck something in Xena, something she hadn’t wanted to admit to herself for a long time ... she was lonely. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to wonder what it might be like to travel with someone like Gabrielle, who even now was chattering away about a number of subjects, her enthusiasm undimmed by Xena’s silence. But Xena knew she couldn’t afford to take Gabrielle with her; it would be far too dangerous.
As they rode into town, Xena saw men on horses standing sentinel in the fields and noticed the streets were deserted. Her gaze fell on a familiar horse outside the communal barn and she realized Draco had finally made his move. She pulled Argo up and dismounted, helping Gabrielle out of the saddle.
“What’s going on?” Gabrielle asked, glancing at the heavily-armed mercenaries.
“Trouble,” Xena replied. “Draco’s here and the only way to stop him is for me to beat him in single combat.”
Gabrielle’s eyes widened. “Can you do that?”
Xena shrugged. “I hope so. Draco always did like to show off, so maybe I can use that against him.” She turned and grabbed Gabrielle by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. “When we go in there, I can’t be worrying about you, so just keep quiet and stay out of the way.” Gabrielle nodded and they walked toward the open barn doors.
Draco’s voice drifted through the opening, angry at someone. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” came Andros’s panicked voice.
“Let me show your fellow citizens what happens when they don’t cooperate with Draco.”
“Please don’t kill me.”
“Oh, in a few minutes, you’ll be begging me to do just that, you lying sack of—”
Xena was tempted to let Draco pound some of the attitude out of Andros, but decided she’d better step in before someone got hurt. She walked through the door just as Draco was about to strike. “He’s not lying.” Draco dropped Andros to the floor. “Hello, Draco.”
Draco turned with an irritating smile. “Xena. How was the homecoming? Did they throw you a party?”
She ached to wipe the smug look off his face ... mostly because he’d been right. “What do you want?” Xena stepped toward Draco, noting with her peripheral vision that Gabrielle had quietly slipped through the door and hurried over to stand next to Draco’s lieutenant. So, the girl could actually do as she was told.
Draco leered at Xena. “I want you ... one way or the other.” He circled her, never taking his eyes from her. “We could be great together. You must know by now, you can never escape your past. Xena, celebrate your dark side, don’t run away from it. Ride with me.”
Xena looked around at the people of Amphipolis and saw only hatred and fear. She saw her mother in the crowd, but Cyrene turned away, her face cold. Xena knew these people couldn’t see the difference between her and Draco; as far as they were concerned, there was no difference. Even her own mother felt that way. Why was she risking her life for them? Why not just join him and prove them all right? Or walk away and let him ravage the town? As her eyes swept around the building, they came to rest on Gabrielle, who gave her such a look of faith and hope that Xena couldn’t keep herself from smiling. No matter what anyone else thought, this girl saw the difference between Xena and Draco. She saw something in Xena worth believing in, so maybe ... maybe that meant there was something there to believe in after all.
Xena turned to Draco. “You said one way or the other ... it’s the other.”
Draco tensed and moved away, turning to face her. He was all business now. “Choose the weapons.”
“You choose the weapons, I’ll choose the conditions.”
“Staffs,” Draco said, not taking any time to think about it.
Xena smiled, knowing Draco loved to put on a good performance. “On that scaffolding up there,” she said, nodding toward the platform where the grain was stored after harvest. “First one to touch the ground dies.”
Draco looked at two of his men standing off to the side. “Kill the first one that touches the ground. No one leaves until we’re finished.” Draco got a boost from another mercenary and flipped up to the platform. The man tossed him a staff and he set his feet, waiting for Xena.
She looked around and grabbed a staff from a guard beside the door. She didn’t think Draco’s man would give her a leg up, so she jabbed the staff into his gut, doubling him over. She used him and the guy behind him as springboards, launching herself into a flip and landing on the platform.
“Show off,” Draco said, before attacking with a flurry of strikes and sweeps.
Xena blocked and parried, jumping over his low sweeps and landing on the unsteady platform. The floor was made of round pieces of hollow reed set together, which made footing treacherous at best. Xena and Lyceus had practiced their swordplay on this rolling platform, but that had been a lifetime ago and she hoped she could still cope with the unstable footing. Xena managed to get a couple of hits in, but Draco was tough and he retaliated quickly, knocking her back to the edge of the platform. Some of the hollow reeds rolled under her feet and she struggled to stay on the platform, trying to keep her defenses up against Draco’s relentless attack. She decided to even things up, striking at the reeds Draco was standing on. Xena moved her feet so she was standing on the framework of the platform and kept slamming her staff into the reeds under Draco’s feet. Her tactic worked, and Draco was forced to backpedal as the reeds rolled out from under him. He duplicated Xena’s move, finding firm footing on the framework of the platform.
Draco changed his attack, slamming a series of overhead strikes at Xena. At first, she couldn’t figure out what he was up to; he must know she could block every stroke. But when she heard the board under her feet start to crack, she knew what his game was. He was using raw power to break the board she was standing on. She had no choice but to keep blocking his strikes, and the strategy worked. The board she was standing on broke and she fell, but before her feet touched the ground, she jammed her staff acroos the upright supports, stopping her fall.
Draco moved forward and started striking at her hands. “Why are you doing it, Xena? they’re sheep.” He switched tactics, trying to break the staff she was holding onto. “You’re gonna die for them, and they despise you.”
As Draco struck at the staff again, Xena swung her feet up, catching his staff between them. She jammed the end of his staff into his face, giving her time to flip up and over him. She attacked and heard the voices of several villagers cheering her on. If she hadn’t been fighting for her life, she might’ve stopped to laugh at the irony. She went on the offensive, slamming furious strikes at Draco until she drove him off the edge of the framework. He stepped onto a post and teetered for a few seconds. Xena moved forward, hoping he’d fall, but he flipped off the shaky post and landed on the heads of two people in the crowd. They couldn’t move unless they wanted their necks broken and Draco just smiled and beckoned for Xena to join him.
A few people in the crowd called out to her, offering their shoulders for foothold. She chose the blacksmith first, since he had pretty broad shoulders (and a hard head). She and Draco traded strikes, but he decided to go after her footing again, slamming his staff into one of the men she was standing on. She couldn’t allow Draco to hurt any more innocent people, so she spun and kicked him backwards, watching as he lost his footing on the heads of the crowd. Draco fell back and Xena thought the fight was over, but his lieutenant, Gar, jumped forward and caught him, shoving him upwards and into a flip. Xena cartwheeled out of range and landed back on the blacksmith’s shoulders, as Draco came after her. They traded strikes and Draco kept trying to hit the people she was standing on, forcing her to block low. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt her fellow villagers, no matter how they’d treated her, but she could still use Draco’s idea against him. She started striking at his feet, driving him back until he tottered on the edge of the crowd, arms flailing for balance. As Draco fell, Gar jumped forward to catch him again, but this time he tripped and fell headlong on his face. Xena’s eyes met Gabrielle’s and she could tell by the smirk on the girl’s face that she was responsible for Gar’s stumble. Xena gave her a nod of thanks as Draco fell back onto the ground. Xena vaulted over the crowd, landing on Draco’s chest and driving the breath from his lungs.
“I haven’t touched the ground yet, Draco ...but you have.” She stepped off Draco’s chest and looked at the mercenaries, who lowered their bows. She wasn’t surprised; she hadn’t really expected them to kill Draco. “Looks like I’ll have to finish you off myself.” She jammed the end of her staff into Draco’s throat. “Of course now, maybe you’re willing to make a deal.” Ignoring the cries from the crowd for her to kill Draco (more irony she’d chuckle over later), she leaned down to look the defeated warlord in the eyes. “If I let you live, you and your army clear out of this valley by sundown and you promise never to threaten Amphipolis again.” She flashed a quick look to Gabrielle, still standing by the wall. “Or Poteidaia. Swear it, on the head of Ares.”
Draco knew he had no choice. “I swear, on the head of Ares, God of War, to be out of your valley by sundown and never to return. And the same for that other place,” he added grudgingly as Xena prodded him in the throat.
“Then go.” She pulled the staff from his throat and let him up. Draco gave her a look of anger, mixed with .. respect.
Xena heard the whisper of steel on leather behind her and tensed as Gabrielle’s voice shouted a warning. Before she could turn, Draco drew his dagger and flung it past her shoulder ... right into the chest of Gar, who’d been about to bury a dagger in her back. She raised an eyebrow at Draco, who shrugged. “A deal’s a deal.” He nodded to the rest of his men and they followed him out of the barn.
As she watched Dravo leave, Andros approached her slowly. For the tiniest moment, she allowed herself to believe he was going to thank her. “You can take the loot wagons, of course.”
Why had she thought saving them would matter? They still couldn’t see any difference between her and Draco. “I don’t want anything,” she said, walking out of the barn without a backward glance.
****************************************************
After the fight in the barn, Cyrene had asked Xena and Gabrielle (who had to introduce herself, since Xena didn’t offer) to come back to the inn with her. Xena seemed reluctant, but Gabrielle mentioned how hungry she was and Xena finally relented. After putting her stuff in an upstairs room (refusing to take her old bedroom), Xena had settled at a table, nursing a mug of ale and not meeting her mother’s eyes. The place was deserted, word having gotten out about Xena’s presence. Gabrielle had tried to break the tension with small talk, but the gloomy mood soon dampened her desire for conversation. She tried to ask Cyrene what Xena was like as a child, but a warning glare from the warrior soon put an end to that discussion. After complimenting Cyrene on her honey cakes (and noticing Xena had eaten three of them), Gabrielle lapsed into silence again.
Finally, it became too much for her. She rose and slowly approached the hunched warrior. “Xena, I know you’re probably hurt by how everyone’s treated you, especially after you saved them from Draco. But you still did a good thing, whether they’re thankful for it or not. You should be proud of yourself.”
Xena looked up at her. “I didn’t expect thanks from most people.” Her eyes drifted over to Cyrene. “But I was hoping I might have changed some opinions about me.”
“Oh Xena,” Cyrene said, “I do appreciate what you did, and I’m grateful that you saved us, but you can’t expect one good deed to wipe out a decade of pain and misery.”
Xena shook her head. “I don’t. That’s why I’m going to keep doing good, to make up for all the evil I’ve done.” She stood up. “I’d better get some sleep. I’ll be leaving early tomorrow.”
Xena trudged up the stairs, leaving Gabrielle and Cyrene to stare at each other in awkward silence. Cyrene broke the tension with a forced smile. “You’d better get some sleep too, Gabrielle. You’ve had quite a long day.”
Gabrielle nodded and went to the room Cyrene had set aside for her (insisting it was on the house, for her help against Draco). She lay on the bed for a while, but didn’t want to sleep, so she took out a parchment and started writing down the story of Xena’s fight against Draco while it was still fresh in her mind. She found it difficult to describe the action in a realistic way, so she prettied it up with metaphors and flowery language. She was absorbed in her work, but heard a noise from downstairs and went to check it out.
When she tiptoed down the stairs, Gabrielle found Cyrene sweeping up a broken dish. She hastened to help, picking up some of the bigger shards and throwing them in the waste box. “Thank you,” Cyrene said. “I hope my clumsiness didn’t wake you?”
Gabrielle smiled and shook her head. “Not at all. Actually, I’m trying to stay awake. I’m afraid Xena might try to leave me behind again, like she did in Poteidaia.” She noticed a troubled look on Cyrene’s face at the mention of Xena’s name. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Of course, dear. What is it?”
“Why are you so mad at Xena? I mean, she did save you and everyone else in Amphipolis.”
Cyrene’s face clouded. “Yes, but Xena did terrible things for years and caused a lot of misery to the people of this town ... including me.”
Gabrielle sat down at a table. She didn’t want to interfere in Xena’s business (and the gods knew, she didn’t want Xena upset with her), but she thought Cyrene should know all the facts before she came to a decision about her daughter. “Did Xena tell you what happened in Poteidaia a couple days ago?”
“No, she never mentioned it.”
Gabrielle gestured to the chair across from her and Cyrene sat down. For once, Gabrielle decided to tell the story quickly, without embellishments. “Well, Draco’s men were trying to grab the women of Poteidaia—including my mother, my sister, and me—when Xena jumped out of the bushes and started fighting them, even though she no weapons or even armor. She was wearing nothing but her undershift, but she didn’t hesitate to help us.”
Cyrene frowned. “Why would Xena be in the bushes in her underclothes?”
“Well, I didn’t put this together until later, after I found out she’d buried her weapons and armor, but I think ... I think she was giving up. I think she’d had enough of people assuming the worst about her and she was ready to just walk away from ... well, everything.” Cyrene looked troubled at Gabrielle’s words and the younger woman reached out to take her hand. “But she didn’t give up. When she saw we were in trouble, she jumped in to help us without a thought for her own safety. And the same thing happened there that happened here yesterday. The men of my village, including my own father, told Xena to get out, even after she’d saved us.”
Cyrene swallowed. “That must have been very hard for her.”
“I’m sure it was, but it didn’t stop her from coming here to help all of you, knowing she’d probably get an even worse reception.” Gabrielle reached out to take Cyrene’s other hand, clasping them both between her own. “I never knew Xena before, when she was ... doing all those bad things. So I can’t judge her on who she used to be, I can only go by what I see with my own eyes. And what I see is a good person, trying to make up for all the bad things she’s done.”
Cyrene shook her head. “You really think someone can go from being that bad to being good?”
Gabrielle shrugged. “Why not? People change all the time. And what if ... what if she wasn’t really bad before? What if she was always good, deep down inside, and just lost her way for a while?”
Cyrene pondered that for a few minutes and squeezed Gabrielle’s hands, tears in her eyes. “Maybe you’re right. I should be judging her on who she is now, not who she was in the past. If anyone has the strength to change, it’s Xena.”
Gabrielle handed Cyrene a handkerchief and watched as she wiped her eyes. “That’s why I want to go with her. There’s so much I can learn from her.”
Cyrene smiled and handed the handkerchief back. “You know, I hope Xena does take you along when she goes. I think there are a few things she could learn from you too.”
Gabrielle almost laughed at that. “I’m just a farm girl who talks too much. What could I possibly teach someone like Xena?”
Cyrene leaned forward and patted Gabrielle’s hand. “Xena’s strong and the gods know she has many skills. But there are things she needs help with.”
“Like what?”
Cyrene smiled. “Well, she’s never been good at dealing with her feelings; she prefers to hide them away. And she has trouble letting people get close to her, especially since her brother Lyceus ...” From the grief in Cyrene’s voice, Gabrielle realized that must be the brother whose tomb she’d seen. “I think you could help her with those things.”
Gabrielle nodded. “I’d like to try, but I don’t think she really wants me coming with her.”
Cyrene rose. “Well, Xena doesn’t always know what’s best for her. Why don’t you go get some sleep. I promise I won’t let her leave without you.”
Gabrielle smiled and gave Cyrene a quick hug, thanking her profusely before heading up to bed.
*******************************************************
Xena came down early and found her mother already bustling around the inn. Cyrene seemed to be in a better mood this morning and insisted Xena have breakfast before she left. Xena hesitated, but the smell of mushrooms and bacon brought back such pleasant memories, she allowed herself to be persuaded. After a full breakfast (including two more of the honey cakes she’d missed so much), Xena was startled when Cyrene sat down across from her and reached out to take her hand.
“Xena, I’m sorry I was so hard on you yesterday. Your friend made me see I wasn’t being fair, treating you like you were the same person I’d always known instead of someone who’s trying to make a new start.”
At first Xena was confused. What friend was she talking about? Xena didn’t have any—then it hit her: Gabrielle. “She’s not really my friend, she’s just some girl who followed me after I told her not to.”
Cyrene’s eyes sparkled as she shook her head. “Well, she had a lot of good things to say about you.”
Xena was curious, in spite of herself. What had the girl said? “Like what?” she asked casually, trying not to betray her interest.
“Well, for starters, she told me you saved her and a lot of her kinsmen in Poteidaia.”
Xena felt self-conscious knowing her mother and Gabrielle had been talking about that. “I didn’t ... I was just in the right place at the right time.”
“And nearly naked, to hear her tell it.” Xena couldn’t help smiling, but stopped when she saw the serious look on her mother’s face. “Gabrielle thinks you were getting ready to give up, to ... walk away from everything. Is that true?”
Damn. She hadn’t expected Gabrielle to put that all together. The girl was smart. “I guess I was just tired of trying to do good for people who hate me. It all got to be too much and I did want to just give up. But I’m past that now and I’m going to do what I said, try to help people to make up for all the terrible things I’ve done ... whether they appreciate it or not.” She couldn’t help he accusatory tone that last part took on.
Cyrene looked down at the table. “Xena, I’m sorry I was so hard on you. When you were fighting that awful man yesterday on the platform ... that first time when you almost fell, my heart just about stopped. I knew then that I didn’t want you to die. No matter what you’ve done, you’re still my daughter and, may the gods forgive me, I still love you.”
Cyrene burst into tears and Xena rose, going around the table to put her arms around her. Xena’s own eyes were blurred with tears as she said, “Oh mother, I love you too. I swear I’ll do everything I can to make you proud of me again. I don’t care if everyone else in Amphipolis hates me, as long as you don’t.”
Cyrene nodded and wiped her eyes. “I don’t hate you, Xena. I can’t speak for everyone else, though. Those wounds run deep.” She hesitated, having trouble looking Xena in the eye. “I ... I heard what almost happened in here yesterday and I’m glad you weren’t hurt, or worse. To think, I almost ...”
Xena put her arm around Cyrene’s shoulders. “No, mother, you can’t blame yourself for what they did. And you wouldn’t have been able to stop them anyway. They were too angry.”
Cyrene smiled through her tears. “The way I heard it, Gabrielle did a pretty good job of stopping them. Something else you can thank her for.”
Xena was about to protest, but remembered Gabrielle standing fearlessly in front of the irate mob and telling them they’d come ill-equipped for a proper stoning. She smiled. “Yeah, well, that girl has more guts than brains. I don’t suppose she told you what she tried to do when Draco’s men were at Poteidaia?” Cyrene shook her head. “She stepped forward to offer herself willingly if they let all the other women go. You can guess how well that went over.”
“Is that when you jumped in, without your weapons or armor?”
“Yeah,” Xena said with a shrug. “When I saw her about to be whipped for standing up to those bastards, I couldn’t just stand by and watch.”
“Some people might say you had more guts than brains too,” Cyrene said with a twinkle in her eye. Before Xena could reply, Cyrene’s tone turned more serious. “Xena, I think you should take Gabrielle with you when you go.”
Xena could hardly believe what she’d heard. “Are you crazy? She just a kid, she’s probably never even been away from home before. Do you know the kind of danger I’ll be heading into? I can’t take someone like that where I’m going.”
Cyrene grabbed Xena’s arm. “Xena, that’s exactly why you should take her. I can’t even imagine what kind of trouble you’ll be getting yourself into, but I don’t think it’s something you should do alone. You need someone who believes in you, someone who can help you in those times when you want to give up and walk away from it all.”
Xena saw her mother was serious and for a moment, she actually considered the idea. What would it be like to have someone around who really believed in her, someone who didn’t automatically hate her for her past? Gabrielle was smart, and brave, and willing to risk her life for her principles. Xena remembered Gabrielle’s face in the tomb, when she’d told Xena she wasn’t alone. That statement had gone straight to her heart and touched a part of her she’d thought long dead. That part of her really wanted Gabrielle to come along on her dark journey, but her more practical side knew that was impossible.
“Mother, I can’t take her with me. It’s just too dangerous. If anything happened to her, it would just be more innocent blood on my hands. And I’ve already got enough of that to last a lifetime.”
Cyrene nodded. “I see your point, dear.”
“Good. I have to go get Argo ready. I’ll be back to say goodbye.” Xena went out to the stables to saddle Argo, who was restless, perhaps sensing Xena’s excitement about leaving. She quickly put Argo’s saddle and bridle on and led her out to the front of the inn. “Wait here, girl. I’ll be right back.”
Xena went back inside and found her mother waiting. Cyrene looked so sad at their parting that Xena finally got the courage to ask something she’d been afraid to bring up. As she leaned in for a last hug, Xena said, “Mother, please forgive me.” She held her breath, wondering if she was asking too much, too soon.
Cyrene returned the hug, squeezing extra hard. “I forgive you, my little one. I forgive you.” They broke the embrace and looked at each other. “I’m so happy to have you back again. I wish you could stay longer”
Xena nodded. “You know I can’t. I have a reputation to fix.” Her mother nodded, tears in her eyes. Xena decided she’d better get out of there before she started crying too.
As she stepped outside, she was surprised to see Gabrielle standing beside Argo, grinning like she’d just found the Golden Fleece. How had she—? Ah, of course. Xena looked back and saw her mother waving from the window. She must’ve woken Gabrielle and made sure she was ready to go. Well, their little scheme wasn’t going to work.
******************************************************
Gabrielle held her breath, wondering if Xena might be mad at her, or refuse to take her along. But she just looked back at the inn, where Cyrene was waving from the window, and shook her head. She mounted Argo and held her hand down to Gabrielle without a word. Gabrielle couldn’t believe it; maybe Xena had finally come around to the idea of having a travelling companion. As they rode away, Gabrielle smiled and waved at Cyrene, grateful that she’d woken her and hustled her out to the front of the inn before Xena left.
They rode in silence and for once, Gabrielle didn’t feel like filling it with talk. Her parents had told her many times that her endless chatter was annoying and she didn’t want to do anything that might make Xena change her mind. After riding for half the day, Xena stopped to water Argo at a small stream. She glanced at Gabrielle and said, “I’ve got some dried meat and hard biscuit in my saddlebag if you’re hungry.”
Gabrielle smiled. “Actually, your mother insisted I take some food with me.” She reached into her travel bag and pulled out some smoked meat, cheese, fresh bread, and a couple of apples. “There’s enough for both of us.”
Xena looked at the food and shook her head. “No, you go ahead and eat half. You might want the rest later.”
Gabrielle ignored her, separating the food into two portions and handing Xena one. “Your mother also told me to make sure you got half of this, and I don’t think I want her mad at me.”
Xena gave her a look of amusement and took the food. “No, you don’t.”
They ate sitting on a rock beside the road and Gabrielle enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the sounds of the water rippling nearby. She glanced at Xena and plucked up her courage. “So, where are we headed?”
Xena gave her a strange look. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought we’d go west for a while, then maybe strike south.”
Gabrielle nodded, trying to remember her father’s maps and work out where they were. A sudden thought struck her. “Oh, I almost forgot. We can’t go anywhere near that bridge north of Poteidaia. There’s a Cyclops there.”
Xena’s eyes widened. “You saw the Cyclops?”
Gabrielle nodded. “Yeah, I talked my way past him by promising ...”
“What?”
Gabrielle had trouble meeting Xena’s intense stare. “I kinda promised him I’d bring back your eyes for him to snack on.”
“My eyes?” Xena said, her mouth open in disbelief.
Gabrielle shrugged. “And your legs. I mean, your eyes wouldn’t even make a mouthful for that brute.”
Xena stared at her and let out a snort of laughter. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. Come on, we’d better get moving.”
Gabrielle couldn’t help beaming at the sudden warmth that ran through her at Xena’s compliment. They mounted Argo and trotted down the road for a few more hours. As dusk approached, Gabrielle noticed the countryside starting to look familiar, but by the time she realized where they were, it was too late. Xena reined Argo up at a crossroad and told Gabrielle to get off. She hesitated, then reluctantly slid off the horse, almost falling when she landed. “I’m so saddle-sore I can hardly walk.”
Xena looked down at her. “Well, you’ll have to. Poteidaia is about two hours by foot down that road. Go home while you still can.”
“Xena, I thought ... I thought you were going to take me with you.”
Xena shook her head. “I can’t. You belong safe at home, not heading into endless trouble with me.”
“But I saved you in the inn,” Gabrielle reminded her.
“And I saved you from Draco’s men outside Poteidaia, so we’re even.”
Gabrielle thought for a moment, then smiled. “But I helped you during your fight with Draco.”
Xena smirked. “Yeah, and I made him promise to leave your village alone in the future, so I think we’re square.”
Gabrielle’s face fell as she realized she couldn’t think of another logical reason Xena should take her along. Well, logic was over-rated anyway. She put her hand on Xena’s boot, resting in the stirrup in front of her. “Xena, please, take me with you. You need someone to help you, so you won’t have to be alone all the time. Even your mother agrees with me. I know I’m not your first choice ... I talk too much, and I’m not very smart, and I can’t fight, but ...”
Xena leaned down and looked straight into Gabrielle’s eyes. Once again she was struck by that strange feeling, that ethereal connection that she felt somewhere deep inside. She wondered if Xena felt it too. “I appreciate the thought, but I can’t risk taking you with me. I’m going to be fighting warlords and slavers and bandits and the gods only know what else, and I’ll probably be chased by villagers and soldiers who think I’m still out to destroy their homes and slaughter their families. I won’t know a minute’s peace and I’ll be in danger constantly. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself, so it’s better for both of us if you just go home.”
Gabrielle started to protest but Xena cut her off. “I’ve made up my mind, so there’s no use arguing.” She held her arm out to Gabrielle, who stared for a moment, then grasped it, marvelling at the play of the muscles under the tanned skin. “I hope you have a good life, Gabrielle.” Xena spurred Argo down the western fork of the road, not looking back.
Gabrielle watched her ride out of sight, then smiled. Cyrene had warned her how stubborn Xena could be, and how she didn’t always know what was best for her. A day earlier, Xena’s words would’ve stung, but now they filled Gabrielle with hope. Xena hadn’t actually said she didn’t want Gabrielle to come with her, she’d just said it was too dangerous. That meant ... that meant she was worried about Gabrielle’s safety. It meant she cared. Maybe Xena wasn’t quite as stoic as she made out. Well, Xena wasn’t the only one who could be stubborn.
Back in Lyceus’s tomb, Gabrielle had told Xena she wasn’t alone and by all the gods, she’d meant it. She hiked her travel bag over her shoulder and threw a quick glance down the road leading to Poteidaia. No, that was no longer an option; she’d already made her choice when she’d left home the first time. Now she had to see it through. She set out down the road after Xena whistling a happy tune, her feet feeling heavy, but her heart as light as air.
****************************************************
Xena sat staring into the campfire. Thoughts flitted through her head like the sparks flying up from the fire: memories of her warlord days when she’d first met Draco, fond recollections of her and Lyceus as kids, and a warm satisfaction that her mother had finally forgiven her. But another face kept pushing itself through into the forefront of her mind. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Gabrielle? She was just a silly kid, wide-eyed and full of dreams, no common sense. Still, she’d helped Xena out of a few jams ... and faced down the Cyclops; what Xena wouldn’t give to have seen that. Promising to bring back her eyes and her legs. She shook her head and realized she was grinning. The smile faded as she thought about Gabrielle being back home with her family. They’d probably punish her for running away, but from what she’d seen it wouldn’t diminish that spirit of hers one bit.
Xena found herself smiling again and shook her head to clear it. What was wrong with her? She’d been alone for years, even when she was at the head of an army. She’d never really been able to trust anyone after Lyceus died, not even Borias or Lao Ma. So why did she feel an empty space inside her every time she thought about Gabrielle? She knew the answer, but hated to admit it ... she missed the girl. She’d wanted to bring her along, even considered it briefly, weighing the pros and cons. And when Gabrielle had said that stuff about not wanting her to be alone all the time, Xena had almost relented. But the thought of the Cyclops stopped her; if Gabrielle came with her, they’d probably face more dangerous things than a Cyclops and Xena just couldn’t risk it. The thought of that unquenchable spirit being stilled forever sent a chill through Xena’s soul; she wouldn’t be responsible for depriving the world of that. But every time she recalled the intense feeling she got when their eyes locked, she couldn’t help wishing things were different.
Xena heard a noise in the brush nearby and reacted immediately, whipping her sword up from beside her and taking a defensive posture. She couldn’t believe her eyes when Gabrielle stumbled into her camp, looking thoroughly miserable. By the gods, had she really followed all that way, on foot? Xena was so impressed with her tenacity, she almost smiled, but held back; no sense in giving the girl a swelled head.
Gabrielle looked exhausted as she dropped onto a log across from Xena. “I was gonna follow you, until you were in some jam.” She held her hands out to the fire. “It’s so cold out there, and I couldn’t get a fire started. And the mosquitoes are as big as eagles.”
Xena felt her resolve crumbling, but knew she had to be strong. “You know I’m sending you home in the morning.”
She was surprised by Gabrielle’s calm reaction. “I won’t stay home. I don’t belong there, Xena. I’m not the little girl that my parents wanted me to be and I never will be.” She shook her head, looking away. “You wouldn’t understand.”
But Xena did understand. She understood disappointing the people you’re closest to, she understood feeling like you didn’t fit anywhere, and she understood how unbelievably lonely those things could make you. “It’s not easy proving you’re a different person from what everyone thinks you are.”
Gabrielle looked up and their eyes met. Xena felt the strange connection again, but this time she didn’t question it, she just accepted it. Maybe this girl was part of her destiny after all. She rolled her eyes, wondering when she’d gotten so soft and reached back for an extra sleeping fur. She tossed it to Gabrielle and said, “You can sleep over there,” nodding across the fire. The look of surprise on Gabrielle’s face was replaced with a smile and Xena couldn’t help smiling back. It wouldn’t hurt to let the girl tag along ... for a while, at least. After a week or two of scanty rations, hard ground, and bloody fights, she’d probably be begging to go home.
The next morning saw them up early (though Xena had to rouse Gabrielle, who slept like a log) and Xena was pleasantly surprised when Gabrielle managed to make the rabbit stew palatable; Xena always seemed to burn it. They packed up and headed out, making their way through valleys and over hills. Gabrielle declined to ride, saying she preferred to stay as close to the ground as possible and Xena wondered if she was still sore from yesterday. Xena kept the pace easy, sometimes dismounting to lead Argo, Gabrielle walking beside them.
It was during one of those stretches when they were both walking that Xena made one final appeal to reason. “You know, where I’m headed, there’ll be trouble.”
Gabrielle returned her serious look. “I know.”
“Then why would you want to go into that with me?”
Gabrielle smiled. “Because that’s what friends do, they stand by each other when there’s trouble.”
Friends? Since when were they friends? They’d only met a few days ago. Xena couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a friend, at least a real friend. She’d had lovers, and fellow warlords, and soldiers, and even partners in crime whom she liked or trusted, to one degree or another. But a true friend, someone who didn’t want anything from her other than just friendship? She hadn’t had that since Lyceus, and he was family.
Her throat tightened and she shot a sidelong glance at Gabrielle, knowing her casual use of the word had been anything but casual. “All right ... friend.” she replied, unable to keep a note of cynicism from her voice. But deep down inside, in spite of all her dark impulses pushing back against it, she couldn’t help feeling a tiny spark of light.
The End (or The Beginning ...)