The Conqueror's
Harvest
Part 10
by ArdentTly
Chapter Twenty-One
Soft yet hard
cruel yet kind
gripping with intensity
yet anointing with sorrow.
Large and well formed
protected by bracers
or gauntlets
silver or brass
by a myriad of scars
or scarves.
Tapered and long
strong and careworn
calloused
hard-bitten
cold harsh unforgiving
yet tender
capable of holding life
and taking it
of discharging judgment
and winning it.
Hands that have known strife
miles of grief
yards of blood.
Tools of war
bringers of peace
meting out pain
with one flick of the wrist
or pressed to lips in farewell.
Palms up in supplication
or pressed feverishly against death
fingers accusing
or entreating desire.
Dangerous deceitful
forgiving
gripping life tenuously
demanding supple pained.
Skin stretched tightly
over muscle and bone
each nick stain break
a masterpiece of a life
well spent.
Xena hesitated as the bard
lowered the sheet. Somehow the size and
condition of her beaten and scarred hands seemed unworthy as she compared them
to the soft, creamy skin of the woman who was now offering everything she had
tried to take by force. Had a week gone
by so quickly? No, it must have been
closer to a fortnight. Yes, surely
that. In all her time spent in the arms
of other women Xena had never gleaned as much loving information or
gratification; there had never been any desire to look beyond her own
needs. The very idea of breaking a
subject, albeit one who seemed only too pleased to be in her company, felt
hollow and somehow terribly desperate to her now.
Looking at the soft smile of
the woman she loved was more of a gift than any sexual gratification she had
known or had any hope to receive.
“We don’t have to do anything
but just…be together, Gabrielle. Just
holding you, tasting your scent, the hue of the aura that seems to envelope
you…”
The bard lazed a fingertip up
from the warrior’s bicep, trailing it past the muscled shoulders and then
across to the hollow at the upper portion of her chest.
“You know, I could listen to
you talk for hours, Xena. I remember…”
She laughed somewhat self-consciously.
“Heh, when we were going to…be together the first time, oh a couple of
days ago I think, you accused me of prattling and giving you a headache. I suppose I did break the mood somewhat.”
Xena grinned and then grabbed
the inquisitive hand.
“Your touch is like fire
against my skin, bard. I’ve read your
words in the scrolls that were confiscated when you were first arrested. You have a skill indeed. However,” She paused and then kissed the
woman’s fingers. “I don’t think you
employ that gift orally.”
The bard swatted the woman’s
shoulder and then covered her mouth at her audacity.
“Oh!”
Xena grinned again. “You do prattle…on and on, little one. But somehow…somehow your voice, which had
initially seemed quite irritating and nasal…”
“Ouch!” she growled in mock
anger as she was struck again.
“Nasal? Why, I’ve been told I have a great voice for
barding.”
One dark eyebrow slowly
rose.
“Well…I have! There was this boy in our group…and, and a
woman in the market place who said…” She found her lips twisting into a smile
despite her attempts at displaying a more mature manner. Her disappointment and tone of voice told
another story, making the warrior chuckle aloud.
“Was the woman offering you a
position as fish monger?” She reacted
swiftly, capturing the small hand instantly before another hit could be scored.
“And the boy was undoubtedly
smitten with your dazzling smile, your charming wit and your curvaceous
beauty.” She all but leered.
Gabrielle’s jaw opened as she
attempted to raise some ire in her defence but hesitated as she realized her
folly. While the former was a blatant
attempt at raising her humour, the later was surely a lie. Could Lord Xena
actually find such a weakened specimen as she attractive? She pushed the thought away. What good would it do to argue the point right
now? Now she wanted to convince the
woman of her desirability, not prove her wrong! No, if Xena found her attractive in any way…but why else had she
spent days, weeks trying to seduce her?
Gabrielle knew the Conqueror could have any woman or man she
fancied, so why waste her time. The
thought almost made her laugh. ‘Xena is
quick to criticize, even quicker to condemn, and certainly had better things on
her mind than to spend time with a…cripple’.
She pushed threatening tears away and decided that she certainly knew
what she wanted and if Xena thought for even one moment that she was exactly
what she needed in her life…well, who was she to argue?
Her eyes wandered over the
physical beauty of the woman whose skin and tempting attributes were but a
caress away and wondered exactly what she could have seen in the somewhat
pimple faced youth from her group. Her
foolish fawning over the boy made her skin crawl now that she knew exactly what
she wanted in a mate. What had Xena
said? It didn’t seem to matter that she
was a lowly slave…or used to be…only that she was what the warrior
wanted, too.
Suddenly, the self-conscious
foolishness she’d been thinking faded away and the bard laughed with relief.
“I’m pleased to have amused
you, Gabrielle. Pray tell, was it
something I said or have I found a ticklish spot?’
Her belly twitched and
Gabrielle looked down. Her smile froze
as she felt the tip of the warrior’s finger circling and then dipping into her
belly button.
She gulped deeply. ‘Woolgathering is not what you should be
doing right now, silly bard. Be
attentive, take notes, be alert!’
The blonde giggled somewhat
nervously and Xena felt herself fall deeper under the spell this charming woman
was casting. ‘I would surmise the young
beauty is oblivious to the magic she weaves.’
A shudder ran up the warrior’s spine and the tip of her tongue darted
out to wet suddenly dry lips.
“I am caught by your beauty,
young Gabrielle.”
The bard blinked. “I’m not that young; why do you keep referring
to me in that manner? Do I seem
childish, immature or naïve in some way?”
Xena noted the change in the woman’s voice and somewhat rigid posture.
‘Oh no, this will never do.’
“You misunderstand me, lit…my
sweet. It was merely a term of
endearment, nothing more.” She poked
the woman’s waist and then smiled at the resulting squeak. “You are, however, quite a few years my
junior, would you not agree?”
Gabrielle opened her mouth
and then paused before closing it quickly with a snap.
“What’s age any way? Good things come with maturity; think of all
the things you can show me.” She shot
the woman a quick grin.
“Middle age comes with
maturity, Gabrielle, along with scars, nightmares, hopes and dreams unrealized,
and a fond wish to die in your sleep.”
“Ha,” said the bard as she
traced a firm bicep. “I’d say you were
in very good shape for being middle aged.
Why, there isn’t an inch of fat on your body and you move as swift as a
spitting cobra.”
Xena nodded slowly. “Yes, but I have to work at it. In five months I shall be 36. Very few warrior’s live to be 50 and most
wish for an early death to avoid the humbling grip of age and the justice it
metes out to those who wield a sword.”
A gentle sigh escaped the
bard and Xena frowned quizzically.
“You are so elegant in your
speech, Xena, yet you rarely employ it.”
The Conqueror shrugged and
then began to caress the soft skin just above the bard’s right hip.
“I don’t have much to say
most of the time. My men don’t care to
hear florid speeches; their interests lie in whether they’ll live to battle
another day.” She growled again and
nipped the skin warmed by her fingers.
“But Xena, you have such a
gift…”
“I make myself understood; my
men require little more than orders, and very few of them would appreciate the
depth and span words afford us. Why
waste a mouthful of words when the prick of a sword will do the job?”
Gabrielle smiled as a large
finger was placed against her lips.
“Enough talking. I for one would rather be communicating by
other means.” Her hand moved slowly as
it followed the crease at the top of Gabrielle’s thigh.
This time the bard was more
than willing to comply, and sighed gratefully as her splints were carefully
adjusted. Her eyes fluttered closed as
kisses accompanied inquisitive fingers and she felt Xena’s lust bubbling back
up to the surface. And for that she was
pleased, having feared the somber topic of their conversation would dampen the
warrior’s ardor. Her lips curled into a
small knowing grin. ‘I doubt much would
dissuade this woman from anything, once her mind was set.’
There had been a time earlier
on when she wondered just how far her resistance would take her; driven to the
point when the conflict was too taxing, and surrendering the only recourse
afforded her. As much as it had rankled
her to think of just how pleasant that surrender would be, part of her relished
the fact that she’d lasted long enough for Xena to realize that although it
could be taken accepting what was freely given was the true prize.
Her hips rose suddenly
bringing her out of her haze and Gabrielle pressed the warrior harder against
her burning flesh.
Xena could tell by the bard’s
rapid breathing and the rising blush spreading across her body that the time
for release was close. She thanked the
patience gained over the years as well as the skills she’d learned along the
way, and moved to another part of the blonde’s body.
Gabrielle groaned weakly as
the pressure decreased and found her clenched hands teased open with soft
breath and sweet kisses.
“Xena,” she implored, “I want
you, I need…”
But the warrior only smiled
and began trailing her fingertips up and around the bard’s ever tightening
nipples. Just when Gabrielle felt
unable to withstand the mounting frustration, Xena’s hot red mouth began to
suckle. She felt the intensity searing her, elevating her to another level as a
slick finger played slowly between her legs.
Each pull of the woman’s lips travelled down to the very core of her
being; each push of the woman’s hand rushed up to cause bright lights to form
just behind her eyelids. And then the
pleasure was eased leaving her panting and bewildered.
“No…I need more…”
Tender kisses and small nibbles
began at her waist, traveling past the point they were most needed, over flesh
previously held in pain’s angry maw, and Gabrielle squeezed a small cry through
thin lips as the soles of her feet were bathed in moist heat. Her abandoned center spasmed rhythmically as
the warrior’s soft yet raspy tongue darted here and there between the tender
flesh of each toe. She mewled weakly as
her legs were parted a little more and her hands grasped handfuls of air as she
urged the woman higher.
“Up here…closer…”
Xena closed her eyes as her
head was filled with the soft noises of pleasure rolled over her. Perhaps it was the tone of the bard’s voice
but she was instantly reminded of her inevitable clash with Caesar’s elite forces. Their tone had been pleading as well, and
yet the release they found was quicker and yet less satisfying than the one the
bard was currently enduring. But for
all that Xena could see the beauty and balance in each encounter and the
resulting rush consumed her with the flames of raw power. She loved the reactions she could elicit,
and basked in the knowledge that for her conquest was only a matter of when not
if. With the blaze engulfing her Xena
moved up to watch that moment of surrender in the bard’s eyes. She had waited so long, and had fought so
hard…
“I want you to see what I
feel, Xena,” cried the bard haltingly as she held the woman’s face
tenderly. “…feel what I give you…I give
you all of me!”
“Oh gods!” the warrior yelled
as her fingers were engulfed and wielded tightly to the woman who screamed her
name. There was no surrender only a
journey taken together, and Xena felt her narrow focus expand with a brilliant white
light.
Gabrielle felt the warrior falling
forward, resting her damp head against her midriff and moved a shaky hand over
the woman’s matted bangs.
They lay there until the roar
of their encounter eased off and then passed them by. Finally, Xena rolled over to lie beside the young woman and
wondered at the afterglow she was experiencing. Every fibre in her body shouted that she’d just experienced a
wonderful orgasm, and yet it had been something beyond her experience.
‘Perhaps this type of
response is felt only between those who truly loved each other?’ Her smile began to widen as she contemplated
the joys to come.
Tender yet persistent fingers
began to play over her body and she steeled her response; while dominance was
her forte, instincts told her measured steps in that direction were called
for. ‘He who keeps control at bay,
learns to reap another way.’ She smiled
at her own wit but decided Gabrielle might not appreciate it nearly as well. Her thought processes stilled as certain
parts of her body were teased, and she responded immediately by arching up
against the bard’s questing mouth.
The moonlight filtered
through the scattered clouds causing shadows resembling latticework to pattern
the courtyard. Crickets filled the
October night, their noisome praise battling with the calming rustle of painted
leaves. The air suddenly went still as
the shadows began to change and then a muffled cry was heard.
A lone figure watched from
high above the parapets, nodded once, and then faded back into the night.
A pair of guards huddled around
a banked fire as they tried to keep warm, oblivious to the malevolence
surrounding them until their lives were snuffed out, much like the coals that
sparked and then died beneath the feet of a large contingency of men. The next set of guards met a similar fate,
and the group continued their way towards the main keep. A similar group of men were waiting for the
signal to take the armouries and the guardhouse. When at last the order was given, all pandemonium broke loose.
Captain Polis yelled in surprise
as he was yanked into consciousness and pushed against the wall, a sharp knife
held against his throat. Glancing
quickly about the tower room, he could see no sign of his bedmate and relaxed a
touch. A torch was shoved close to his
face and any effects the wine might have had disappeared quickly as he
recognized some of the men he had thought trustworthy.
“You scum…how could
you…?” His jaw wobbled loosely as a
blow broke one tooth and weakened another.
He strained against the arms
pinning him and then spat a mouthful of blood as a dark form pushed its way
through the crowd. Thracis grinned and
then sent the man to the floor with hard blow to his midsection.
“We’re right on schedule,
Polis me man, so don’t play silly bugger with me. Two questions, two straight answers and you live. Anything else and you die. Clear?”
The Captain narrowed his eyes
and slowly took in the men’s faces surrounding him. While he counted over twenty in the torchlight, he was certain
there must be more. A weak clanking hit
his ears and he turned his attention to the right. There in the flickering light was the sheen of metal he
recognized immediately: it was Roman by
design. His lips tightened as he
noticed the cloth batting tucked beneath the armour.
“Do I have to pull you up
just to knock you down again, Polis?”
The young man took his time
sucking in the much needed air and then slowly got to his feet. Deliberately slurring his speech somewhat,
he peered closely at the traitor and smiled.
“Hallo…is that Thracis come
home again? I must say, I’d wondered
where you’d gotten to. Well, this is a
fine how’dyou do, I must say.”
Thracis frowned and then
smiled widely. “You see? The great Lord Xena fell for the trap
perfectly, just as Dagnine said she would.
All her men should be good and drunk and exhausted from patting
themselves on the back, the fools.”
Polis’ mind scrambled as he
tried to keep one step ahead of the man.
If Dagnine knew they’d be celebrating their victory over the Roman
emissaries, and there was evidence of Roman soldiers there in the room…
“Ha…and why not? We beat those stupid Roman’s easily. In fact, the Lord was so pleased that she
left the garrison only partially filled, and gave most of us much needed
leave. Say,” He batted at the hands
that held him.
“You’re not looking for her,
are ya? Why, you won’t find her here,
not bloody likely. I believe she and a
small escort went into town early last evening.”
Thracis scowled and then
signaled a man by the door. “Any news
from the garrison?”
One of his men nodded and
then pushed forward. “Tynus says
they’ve got the Briton but no one’s seen Lieutenant Andros.”
Polis found a knife pricking
the skin at his throat again and forced himself to be calm.
“What’s going on? Is this some sort of joke? Andros?
I told you the Conqueror had left…and of course her first Lieutenant
would lead the escort.” He smiled
widely.
“Right you…” He backhanded
Polis viciously, then turned to the men holding the man and gave them
instructions to kill him if any of the news proved to be a lie.
“And make it a slow one for
the Captain of the Royal Guard.
Bah. I’ll be back.”
Polis darted his eyes quickly
before the torch was pulled from his face.
Some of the men had left with the traitor, leaving him with about ten
men. Thinking quickly, he began to
wretch and was pleased as the men closest pulled back in alarm.
“Oh gods…I knew I’d had too
much to drink…gods…here comes that moussaka…”
As the torch was dropped, he
rolled quickly, knocking two men to the floor, and then grabbed a nearby spear,
using the blunt end to knock the owner senseless before pushing his way
through.
The room was filled with loud
curses as each man scrambled to get hold of the fallen torch. Polis felt the anger welling up but knew
he’d be dead as soon as the light was restored. No, his best chance lay in finding Andros. Perhaps between the two of them they could
keep Thracis and his men from Lord Xena’s chambers.
He smiled wickedly as the
point of the spear was pushed in-between the hasps of the breastplate of the
man in his path and then made his escape through an open window. Having become disoriented in the darkness,
the Captain was only too pleased to see that the window he’d chosen wasn’t
overlooking the courtyard. Taking a few
seconds to orient himself, he kept to the shadows and made his way down towards
the Mess.
Andros yawned deeply as he
placed the cold dish of mutton back into the larder. An easy burp pushed passed his lips and he smiled slowly. It had been a good day’s fighting
yesterday. Yawning again, he scratched
at his growing beard and wondered how Christo was fairing.
“I wonder what patterns the
man will be employing with this wound?”
A wide smile creased his face as he pictured the dainty work the Briton
performed. ‘Mind you, the resulting
design certainly made for a more interesting scar.’ He pinched out another candle and chortled at the thought.
He stopped mid step and
cocked an ear. Was that a yell? He frowned and strained a little harder to
hear. Nothing. Harrumphing to himself, Andros brushed the
crumbs from his tunic in the fading light and walked back over to the
table. The small hairs at the nape of
his neck began to bristle and he lunged forward, grabbed his sword from the
table and rolled into a crouched position.
The last flickering candle told him that someone had just opened a
door. He waited silently in the shadows
and then sprang up quickly, knocking a dark figure to the floor.
Polis placed both hands up in
surrender and then breathed a sigh of relief as the Lieutenant removed his
hand.
“What the devil are you doing
up again, Polis? I’ll warrant you’ve
had enough to drink this night.”
His eyes opened wide as the
young man pressed a hand against his mouth and motioned him to be quiet.
“Listen, we’re under attack
sire. About twenty or thirty men,
Dagnine’s men, now have the tower and I suspect the garrison and armoury as
well. There’s no time to lose, we’ve
got to reach Lord Xena!”
Andros’ mind went quickly
into gear as he went through different plans to reach the Lord’s chamber.
“Right, you say over twenty
men? Was Dagnine with them? And were
they all armed to the teeth?”
Polis nodded. “Yes, well over twenty, and I’d wager there
must be another tangle of them if they’ve taken over the armoury and the
garrison. Didn’t see that blackguard
but Thracis was there.” He wiped the
back of his hand over his damaged mouth and the Lieutenant peered closely.
“How long did they hold
you? How many others got away? We’ve got to find out if anyone escaped,
Polis.”
“Stop. First off, the men were armed well and…there
are Roman soldiers with them, sire.
While I wasn’t alone in the tower when I went to sleep, the girl was
gone and the room was filled with the traitors. I don’t know how long it was, probably not very, but I did hear
Tynus say they had Christo.”
Andros made a face. ‘Damnit all to Hades!’ “Well then, there’s nothing for it. Most of Dagnine’s lot knows the grounds like
the backs of their hands. We’ll have to
assume we’re on our own and protect the Conqueror ourselves.”
Polis nodded as they gained
their feet and then both moved stealthily in the direction away from the coming
noise.
Xena smiled lazily as she
stroked the ruffled head of her lover.
Gabrielle snuffled a bit against the warrior’s chest but continued to
sleep. Glancing out the partially
opened shutter, the Conqueror could see a faint light coming from the
East. She stifled a yawn, and then
coaxed the bard back onto the mattress before extinguishing the lone candle by
the bedside.
She lay looking up into the
darkness, both hands cradling her head, and sighed deeply. It was funny how quickly things could
change. Just a few days ago she’d been
wondering if the bard would ever speak to her again and now…She glanced
sideways and then froze as the woman slowly moved over in her sleep to rest her
head against the hollow between neck and shoulder.
Xena bit her lip in
consternation. ‘There goes any thoughts
of me sleeping tonight. I hate to be
touched and cuddling is just something I can’t abide.’
While her mind was busy
complaining about the situation, her body was already responding as she created
a little nest for the bard to ease into, and then Xena draped her arm
protectively against the bard’s lower back and fell asleep.
Dagnine’s ruined face
glittered in the torchlight; his badly healing wounds red and angry
looking. Thracis flinched but brought
himself quickly under control before the man could look his way.
“I’m pleased, Thracis. We’ve got the barracks, the weaponry and
most of the main Keep.” He began
picking at one of the scabs dotting his jaw.
“But where is Andros?”
Thracis cleared his throat
and tried hard to keep the disgust from his face. “Polis said both he and the Conqueror had left early last
evening.” The man closest piped up,
“Yes, we’ve sent a small squadron of men to scout the area. If she’s there, they’ll find her.”
“Bah…I don’t believe it. No, she’d have come back here to roost. After that encounter between she and the
centurions, I’ll wager she’s busy taking out her battle lust right about
now.” A sneer of disgust painted his
lips as he thought of Andros enjoying what should have been his alone.
“Where is Polis, by the way?”
Thracis and the other man
looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“Well?”
Thracis noticed a narrowing
of the man’s eyes, and that maniacal look that periodically set his teeth on
edge, and stepped away from his comrade.
“You let him escape?” He set upon the soldier in a murderous rage,
slicing and hacking at the defenseless man until both hands were covered in
gore.
Thracis dangled a cloth over
his shoulder and Dagnine got shakily to his feet. “Thank you. I needed that. Now, where would Polis go and what else
haven’t you told me?”
The burly Lieutenant
swallowed deeply as he watched Dagnine’s tongue snake out to lick a bit of
blood from his upper lip.
“Nothing, Dagnine. Christo and the other second Lieutenants are
all in the stockade. And if Andros is
in town then there is no one to run to.
If not, then I’d wager he’d make a bee-line for the main chambers.”
Dagnine nodded slowly,
finished scrubbing his hands, and then threw the cloth down over the body. He shook himself like a dog and Thracis
waited until the madman’s eyes had regained their normal hue. It was times like this when he truly feared
this man far more than the Conqueror. At
least with Lord Xena you knew where you stood; it was either her way or death. With Dagnine, no one knew just when he’d go
off the deep end or who would have to pay the price. He looked down at the remains of his man and thanked the gods he
knew the signs; it could well have been him lying there in a pool of
blood. And just how long would his good
fortune last? He swallowed again, lost
in thought.
The Lieutenant stood blinking
at the other man. “Well? C’mon, let’s go!”
Thracis jumped a little and
then nodded vigorously. “Yes, of
course.”
The two men quietly made
their way down the corridor with Andros in the lead. He narrowed his eyes as they came across a closed door. He couldn’t be too sure which door it was in
the dark but if his paces had been counted correctly, then it was the private
servant’s quarters.
“Let’s see if this area of
the castle has been breached yet, shall we?” he whispered.
Polis opened his mouth to
protest and then rolled his eyes as Andros quietly pushed the door open.
The room was bathed in
blackness but Andros’ trained ear could detect someone in the room. That someone was being very quiet but the
fear all but rolled off their skin.
Grabbing Polis by the arm, he gestured to go right while he went left. Polis began picking his way along slowly but
stopped suddenly as a small noise came from the opposite direction.
“Psst!”
Polis moved back the way he’d
come and there before him was Andros and one of Xena’s servants.
“Ubris says she’d be awakened
by a noise outside her window. She said
the crickets woke her up.”
“No, I did not say the
crickets woke me up, silly man. I said
the noise they make was not present and that woke me up.” Ubris shook her head and pulled both men
towards the door.
“We must not tarry; Lord Xena
must be in grave danger. We must
hurry!”
Andros nodded but then
quickly pulled both people away from the door.
“Someone’s coming!”
Leaving the door as it was
they moved to the back area towards the adjoining bathing chamber. Both men had to stifle curses as they
stubbed their way along in the dark.
Ubris gritted her teeth and wondered just how two men such as these had
lived this long. But while she knew
just how agile she was and how capable she was at being covert, Ubris knew she
lacked one important thing: strength.
She pushed back as both men
walked into her. Cocking an ear, she
felt along to the edges of the common door and waited. No candlelight showed from under the door
but the servant knew that meant nothing; Xena enjoyed stealing up to her prey
in the darkness. She’d wait for a signal.
Ubris sighed mightily as the two men jockeyed for position behind her.
Sensing a change in her
surroundings, the Conqueror popped one eye open and listened. The door to her chambers opened a crack and
a small figure stood there…waiting.
“Ubris?”
The figure bowed quickly but
stood silent.
“What is it, woman?” Having received no response, Xena eased over
onto her side, checked the sleeping bard, and then motioned the woman forward.
“Come along, Ubris. What is it?”
Suddenly, the figure at the
door made a strangled cry and fell to the floor. Before Xena could even respond with shock, both doors were flung
open and a swarm of men pushed their way inside.
Xena sneered as she was
dragged from her bed. The torchlight
was sufficient for her to recognize a few of the traitors that had left with
Dagnine. Although he was nowhere to be
seen, she was certain he was responsible. A quick look at the body by the door
told her how foolish she’d been to assume the figure was Ubris. Unable to get a good look at the woman, Xena
surmised it must have been one of the kitchen helpers and by the state the
woman’s body was in it was clear she’d resisted. This was somewhat comforting.
“What do you hope to
accomplish by this, Dagnine? My men
won’t just stand by and let this treasonous act go unpunished.”
He stood back; waiting until
he was certain the men had her well in hand.
He swallowed deeply as the Conqueror’s muscles bulged. The man became all but transfixed as the
sheet was ripped away, and the awesome beauty that was Lord Xena was displayed
in all of its glory.
Standing in the shadows
Dagnine fingered the healing scar that ran from his forehead down to the
opposite side of his jaw. He had tried
to talk to the Conqueror about his feelings.
He still felt the sting of her words as she told him how nature used
things like love to fool mankind into mating.
She would have none of it, she assured him, and those stupid enough to
fall in love with her would be killed.
She didn’t have time for such foolishness; it was a sure sign of
weakness. And everyone knew just how
the Conqueror felt about weaknesses.
She had decided to make an
example of him after he’d all but professed his love, assuring her that the
blonde slave must have her under a spell.
Why else would she be spurning his advances?
His already shattered ego
shrank a little more as he remembered how the great Xena had laughed at
him. To her, his love was only
noteworthy because it proved once and for all that he was unfit for duty in her
army. More over, he was unfit to
live. But she hadn’t stopped there; she
was determined to have him cast out as a pariah, not even worth the time and
effort to kill. She had gifted him with
the wound he now traced gingerly, and then had turned her back on him,
dismissing him from her mind.
That had been a mistake.
After a few hours with the men, spreading dissention along with cheap grog,
Dagnine had more than a few top advisors in his fist. It really hadn’t taken much convincing when it came to pitting
one black-hearted warlord against another.
And for the spurned would-be lover, once he admitted to himself that
Xena would never entertain the idea of him as a partner, she became nothing
more than a distasteful obstacle.
Xena strained forward,
peering into the darkness, and began to taunt the man.
“I can see you trembling like
a child, Dagnine. You can’t hide from
me; even if I were blinded I could still sense you out there. People like you exude fear, little
man.” Pulling the soldier holding her
hard to the right, she feinted left but found two more gripping her fiercely. Thracis was awed by her wild animalistic
power and could feel the hypnotic trance of her dangerous blue eyes. Dagnine, however, felt both knees go weak
and trembled before her.
“Take her away for
preparation”, he squeaked. Clearing his
throat, he stared at the men surrounding him and those who dared to gaze back
knew their lives were forfeit. Like a
petulant child in many ways, this madman never forgot or forgave a slight, real
or imagined. The intensity of his rage
began to build and those closest shrank back, looking from one unpredictable
monster to the other. A few jumped
right along with their master as Xena roared in their direction.
“You’re dead…all of you!”
Gabrielle tried to make
herself as small as possible as she watched the nightmare play out before
her. She recognized a few of the men as
being in Xena’s Royal Guards and was certain she’d seen the barrel-chested man
before. ‘This has to be a nightmare for
the Conqueror’s trusted men to turn on her in such a way. Perhaps I’m still dreaming?’ She remembered hearing about the grand
parade in the Conqueror’s honour, the great tributes being paid by foreign
heads of state…where was the loyalty now?
Her head snapped back as she
was struck brutally across the face. A
man with a cruel scar running the length of his cheek darted forward, pushed
her roughly from the bed, and then laughed as she collapsed onto the floor.
“A cripple! The great Lord Xena is bedding a
cripple! Wait until your enemies hear
of this.” He chuckled darkly and then
advanced on the mewling blonde.
“Whatever Xena owned is now
mine.”
Xena’s shoulders were all but
wrenched from their sockets as she twisted in the guard’s grip at the bard’s
scream. Dagnine took note and began
feeling quite cocky. If she hadn’t been
able to free herself by now, well chances were she wouldn’t ever get away.
“Dagnine! I’m going to kill you for this, slowly.”
He laughed evilly and
nodded. Given half the chance, there
was no doubt whatsoever that the Conqueror would follow through on her
threats. Which was exactly why she
wouldn’t be given the chance; no one survived the gauntlet.
“I’ll have you begging for
death, pig!”
Dagnine turned away from the
blow he’d been about to deliver to the wretch huddling on the floor. Knowing every eye in the room was centered
on him, he decided to play up his part, thus securing his position as her
successor.
“We’ll see who begs for
death, Xena. Bind her with chains.”
“I’ll begin with your
genitals, Dagnine…I’ll stuff the lot of them into that grinning mouth of
yours…they should all fit, pitiful bundle that they are! Then I’ll take your eyes out…with burning
pokers…”
Gabrielle shrank back against
the wall in fear. This was the woman
she’d just been making love to?
Squeezing her eyes shut, she reminded herself of the tender touches, the
sweet and eloquent words of love and was reminded again of how Xena had
described herself: a cold hearted
killer that couldn’t change. Although
the bard knew the latter part to be a lie, she was witnessing first hand just
how true the former description was.
Dagnine felt his knees
turning to water and suddenly felt the need to relieve himself. That she could be totally at his mercy and
still be able to reduce him to such weakness galled the man terribly. Her words began echoing in his head and he
felt he might go mad.
“And gag her! Now!”
Two soldiers hurried forward
and wrestled with the four men holding the Conqueror. Xena snapped and roared her defiance, leaving one man missing a
thumb and the others fearing for their very lives. At last the chains were secured and Dagnine stepped closer to admire
his prize.
“Yes, I like this much
better. Perhaps we can make it
permanent? Why, just imagine how much
nicer you could have been if we’d had this done years ago, Xena?” He laughed at the image of the Conqueror
barefoot and pregnant, her tongue having been ripped from her mouth. But thoughts of the reality of his vision
began to settle in his mind and Dagnine groaned. She would never be able to kiss him, filling his mouth with that
glorious tongue; never be able to drag it across his manly body; and certainly
never be able to scream his name after being conquered in the way only he
could. No, the tongue would have to
stay.
He made a point of checking
the leather gag and how it was fastened at the back. Given a little time Xena would have that off and be free to fill
his head with all sorts of gruesome thoughts.
No, he’d have to get the smithy to make something a bit
grander…something with buckles.
He smiled and stepped back.
A bit of sniveling caught his
attention and he trained his focus on the blonde body slave.
“Heh, and as for you, slave…I
think I have a position in my army for you…beneath me!” He laughed at his own joke and advanced on
the bard.
The Conqueror’s Lord Chancellor
sauntered into the room and brushed his newly acquired rings over his
robe. As distasteful as it was to deal
with a man like Dagnine it was somewhat preferable than being reminded of his
inadequacies as both a man and a politician.
Glancing at the woman with disdain, he dismissed her shocked looks with
a flick of his hand.
Xena shook her head with a
vengeance and tried to dislodge the gag.
Mica smiled, licked a finger
and smoothed an unruly hair at the back of his head.
“I don’t think you should do
anything to the young prisoner, Lord Dagnine.”
He pursed his lips as the fool of a man ate his false platitudes
up. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind
you that the bard is really a witch.”
He placed a hand to his mouth in mock horror as Dagnine whirled on him
in surprise. “I did mention that,
didn’t I? Why, I’ve got it on good
authority that she is indeed a practicing witch.”
Dagnine bounded over to the
rotund man and grabbed up his collar.
“Where did you get this information?”
Mica smiled sweetly. “From the healer, sire; Daedalis has been
confined to the dungeon for two or three days now for daring to confront both
the witch and the Conqueror. Poor man
was driven mad…probably the witch’s doing.”
Dagnine scratched his chin
thoughtfully. “A witch, eh? Hmmm…well, I suppose it makes perfect sense,
her controlling the Conqueror like that and being a cripple and all. Damned black magic!”
Nodding quickly, Mica
loosened the man’s grip on his clothing and spoke in conspiratorial tones. “She should be burned at the stake, sire,
and as soon as possible. But we should
have a public hearing, no?”
Dagnine shrank back in
horror, stepping away from the woman as if she were the embodiment of evil.
“Fine…take her away…to the
dungeons for now. I’m not too sure I
want a witch mad at me right now. She
might prove to be useful.” He fingered
the wound on his face. “Yes, for now
she’ll stay safe.”
Polis jammed one hand firmly
between his teeth to prevent the wail that threatened to escape while his other
arm slowly seeped blood down the servant’s chin.
Andros grabbed Ubris by the
waist and whispered harshly into her ear.
“You’ve got to stop this now,
Ubris! You’ll get us all killed and
then who will save Lord Xena!”
Ubris removed her teeth from
the Captain’s forearm but fixed both men with hate filled eyes.
“We cannot leave her like
this! They will surely kill her; you
must know this! If we rush into the
room now…”
Captain Polis spoke through
clenched teeth. “…We’ll all be
killed. Do you wish the Lord to witness
our deaths? Those who would survive
would be tortured in front of her, make no mistake about it.”
Andros placed the woman’s
feet back on the ground and then put a hand to her shoulder. “I know Dagnine and what the Captain says is
true. For her very safety, we must
leave now.” A loud noise came from the
hall and Polis moved to the window. It
was going to be a very tight squeeze to get through but if he removed his heavy
jerkin…
“We’d better be going now
then. I think our chances of getting
out of this alive are dwindling as we speak.”
The Captain nodded to Andros as he took off his shirt and jerkin. “You’d best do the same.” Ubris blushed, as the man looked her up and
down.
“My shift stays on.” She fixed the Captain with a stare and
Andros cleared his throat.
“Yes, Ubris.” He was just pleased the young servant was
both nubile and narrow of waist.
He picked up the pile of
clothing and threw it out into the night.
“Right, get going
Polis.” He gave the young servant a
light squeeze and smiled. “Everything
will be all right, Ubris, I promise it.”
Ubris said nothing and he looked away.
Polis gestured through the window and he nodded. “Go on.”
Handing the woman to the Captain he waited until they were both out of
sight. Flinching as the Conqueror’s
roars of defiance filled his ears, he pressed both fists to his temples.
‘I can’t leave her!’ His heart was filled with a terrible
seething hatred as he imagined Dagnine having his way with both women. And he knew that would just be the
beginning. A small tear seeped from the
corner of his left eye but seemed to freeze part way down his face as a cold
calm came over him.
“I’ll be back.”