The Conqueror's
Harvest
Chapter
Twenty
Oh, to ride the swells
and feel the goal of it
upon my straining back!
To feel it coursing through
the very soul of it,
though righteousness it lacks.
Oh, to ride the exaltations
of my battle lust,
wrathful truth my aegis!
Rage with acrimoniously
anointed rust,
duty my accomplice.
The Conqueror yawned and stretched as she left the common Mess area. Although
she'd left strict orders not to imbibe too heavily, Xena knew the men would be
feeling very little pain in a matter of hours. A few strains of a very bawdy song
reached her ears and Xena found herself humming along. How long had it been since
she had sat with the men, leading them in verse after verse of either ribald poetry
or limericks? 'I really must do something to remedy that.'
“Xena?” She turned and stifled another yawn. Although his behavior earlier
had rattled her somewhat Xena was pleased her Lieutenant had very little interest
in getting totally inebriated. Despite young Polis bringing up a few points that
had blown some of the fog of self-doubt away, she was certain Andros felt some
uncertainty regarding a few of the unsettling changes taking place. 'As well he
should.'
She ground the knuckles of her hands into both eyes and then squared her shoulders.
The tightening in her chest was back.
The Conqueror waited, impatience written on her face. 'Well, what can you expect,'
thought Andros. He wished he had a woman waiting in his bed, too. 'Hmm,' he grumbled
to himself, 'not just any woman.' Although it was because of the bard's amorous
influence on the Conqueror that he had been able to drop the scales of deceit
from his eyes, there was a part of him that truly felt his destiny was heavily
entwined with the woman. Why couldn't Xena return his love?
“I must apologize for my behavior earlier, sire. I think this change has
made others view you as vulnerable and that concerns me. While your reign has
always held its own fascination for would-be successors and their assassins, you've
had at least twice the usual number in the past six months. You heard the Romans,
sire; Caesar himself has been apprised of the situation here and feels he can
move rapidly on what he sees as an easy conquest.”
The warrior nodded slowly and leaned against the wall, taking some comfort in
the effects the cold stones were having on her body. She really was feeling bone-weary,
and that would never do; she had plans for the evening.
“I don't think we need concern ourselves with Caesar, Andros. But just to
settle your worry, have a full company of men added to the border patrols in that
sector. Now, was there anything else?”
“But sire, what of Dagnine? He is still out there.”
“Yes, isn't he just? At least we know what rascality he's been up to and
in whose ear he's been whispering. Now that I've put a stop to his brief alliance
with Caesar, I suppose he must be hiding, his tail securely positioned between
his legs.” She rubbed her chin. “I think a nice long chat with our two
friends might yield up his whereabouts.” A cruel smile twisted the tired
look on Lord Xena's face and Andros had a brief image of two more heads being
added to the tribute she would be sending along to Rome.
“Sire, if you'd permit me, I'd like to interrogate the men myself. You've
had a long day and I'm sure you haven't been sleeping well because of the betrayal
deep within your own ranks. You may rest assured that if the Roman's know of his
whereabouts, Dagnine will be in our hands by nightfall tomorrow.”
The Lieutenant relaxed as the Conqueror shrugged her shoulders in agreement.
“You will keep me advised.”
He nodded and then rubbed the back of his neck as she walked away muttering, 'Damned
Dagnine, I should have dealt with that problem years ago.' He was in full agreement.
However, knowing the Lord's feelings regarding familiarity breeding contempt,
he did wonder why he himself had lasted so long. Mind you, unlike Dagnine he'd
had no visions of grandeur, only visions of love. That they were unrequited was
something he'd have to deal with. And he would, given time of course.
His belly grumbled alarmingly and the Lieutenant decided a short trip to the kitchen
pantry might be in order. He gazed over his shoulder and saw that Polis was nowhere
to be seen. 'Young pup is probably already bedded down for the night.' His curiosity
was piqued as to which of the local wenches it was but then his attention was
dragged back to things more important as his belly growled again.
Still muttering under her breath, the Conqueror made her way down the partially
lit hallway towards her chambers. Her brain and heart were in rebellion; her first
thoughts were centering predominantly on the bard as the days went by, making
her feel more isolated. Andros was right: the number of attempts on her life were
increasing and if she was going to have someone special around then certain safeguards
had to be in force. That meant beefing up security again. She sighed dejectedly.
That also meant bodyguards. The most powerful woman in the realm was becoming
not only a prisoner but also her own worst enemy.
It didn't matter how powerful you were, or how well you insulated yourself from
the truth, there would always be someone there to take what you have. Her relationship
with the men and the peasants would have to change. Only by accepting her role
as an uncaring ruler could she see the change required. Only by accepting the
bard's pain as her own failing could she accept the total love the woman was offering.
Only by change could she guarantee her own future.
Walking into her ready room, Xena felt as if a terrible weight had been lifted
off her shoulders. She stood looking into the mirror and watched a stranger remove
her armour and weapons. Gazing at the fresh nicks on her hands, the Conqueror
could see a pattern of old wounds and new. At one time, these would be looked
upon as evidence of her prowess. Now they were evidence of a different sort; although
caught in a web of her own denial, the truth was clear: you rule with an iron
first, then you will die the same way. That too would have to change.
Wringing the cold cloth and then washing the areas exposed as she disrobed further
revitalized the warrior and she began feeling a little more settled about the
day's events. It was good to discover that she had the backing of most of her
men; if nothing else, the day was not wasted for that very reason.
Xena stepped into a fresh silken robe placed by the bathing room and silently
thanked her servant. Surveying the room as she cinched the belt around her, the
warrior could see that Ubris had performed the duties she had longed to do in
her stead. The heady scents of menthol and tiger balm were still present and Xena
took a nice deep breath, letting the aroma settle about her.
The candles flickered as she slowly pushed open the adjoining door to her chamber.
The faint light cast a gentle spell on the sleeping bard, making her seem to be
some beauty under the power of some evil Emperor. Although somewhat piqued that
the woman wasn't awake and willing to continue their gentle seduction, Xena found
her temper waning, replaced with a building sense of awe. Coming closer to the
bed, Xena could see that both women had been busy preparing for her return. The
bard's hair had been brushed to a golden brilliance and her skin seemed to glow
with health.
Her pulse quickened as the young woman's eyelashes fluttered and then she found
herself the benefactor of the most wondrous and loving smile. 'Just for me.' That
truth forced her to take a slow and measured breath as she steadied the faint
tremor in her hands.
“Xena. I…I had a dream.”
A look came to the Conqueror's face and Gabrielle continued in a rush. “No,
I wasn't dreaming of her…you…oh, you know what I mean. I had a dream
that you were in danger. But…”
Xena sat by the woman and tried to listen as the bard prattled on about her dream
but her focus kept shifting to the creamy colour of Gabrielle's skin, more of
which was being exposed as the woman became increasingly animated in her storytelling.
Nodding in what she assumed were the right places, the warrior continued her perusal
of the bard's beauty. Had she been aware of the finely chiseled nose, the dainty
fine hairs that swept at the corners of the woman's temples, or the exquisite
mouth that seemed to promise more than she was currently offering?
She blinked slowly as a small hand caressed the length of her forearm. The spell
having been broken, the Conqueror decided that small talk was not something she
wished to engage in any longer than necessary.
“Gabrielle.”
The bard swallowed as her name purred off the warrior's sculpted lips. 'How does
she do that?' pondered the bard as a few fine hairs at the nape of her neck twitched.
“Do you really want to continue regaling me with the symbolism of your dream?”
Gabrielle's mouth went suddenly dry. “But sire, perhaps it portends something…”
Xena's mouth dipped down on one side.
“Sometimes a dream is just a dream, bard. I can think of many other things
I'd like to be discussing. Like…”
The blonde groaned as the tips of her fingers were nibbled and her eyes shut with
ecstasy as the inside of her wrists were sucked upon. Strong fingers gripped her
forearms and the bard reveled in the heat the warrior was radiating.
“…How sweet you taste, your vintage akin to the finest ambrosia served
in Athens.”
Gabrielle swallowed with a click. Although Lord Xena was certainly not a verbose
or overly demonstrative woman by any means, the bard was discovering she was both
very learned and extremely skilled in the ways of romantic love. She forced a
fine eyebrow back down as she wondered how often the woman had employed such skills.
From all accounts it seemed the Conqueror was used to an easy conquest, the women
all but flocking to her bed with the merest crick of one of her long well shaped
fingers.
She frowned as her eyes picked out something against the olive colour of the warrior's
skin; a slight stain was visible on one wrist and palm.
“Xena?” The warrior scowled slightly and glanced quickly at her robe.
No, there was no swatch of colour visible, therefore no re-opening of her wound.
Her fingers moved over the spot quickly and efficiently, and noting no seepage,
she cocked her head.
“What is it?”
Gabrielle swallowed. It was like that dream she'd had days ago about the room
filling with blood, with Xena at the very center of it.
The bard closed her eyes briefly and chastised her actions. 'What did you expect,
dolt? She's still Lord Xena, irregardless of what fancy thoughts you may have.
See her in the light she so readily walks in!'
Looking about the room the Conqueror could see nothing amiss. It was only when
she placed a slightly crimson finger to her lips in pensive thought that she understood
the bard's reaction. Glancing down at both hands, Xena snorted quietly and then
moved to the corner basin.
“It's nothing a little water won't fix, Gabrielle.” Xena blinked deeply
as she pushed the washcloth mindlessly over her hands and forearms, her vision
captured by the events of the day. The squeals of fear as the Centurions made
overtures of mercy twisted her lips into a smile and she wrung the cloth tightly.
'If I just close my eyes…' Her fingers twitched as she remembered the soft
wet feel of matted hair, its rusty seeping colour perfectly suited to the black
leather gauntlets she wore. Oh, to ride the wild exhilaration of battle lust!
The blonde nodded but averted her eyes, oblivious to the Conqueror's thoughts.
Wanting to keep her mind on anything but the truth of why blood would be on the
warrior's hands, Gabrielle shifted and then moved into a semi-sitting position.
The small gasp that she uttered wasn't missed and Xena's neck muscles twitched
as she gripped the sideboard. She could feel a slight pressure building just behind
her eyes as the burbling blood lust began thrumming throughout her body.
“Here, let's get you a bit of wine,” she said as she dragged herself
away from the images. “I'm sure you must be quite thirsty after your nap.”
She busied herself pouring two goblets and then, eying a platter by the main table,
placed both amongst the food and carried it all over to the bed.
“And I'm certain you must be hungry, too.” Xena smiled blankly as the
bard's belly rumbled. Her thoughts slowly flowed into the river of emotions that
had begun that day when she'd come upon the Centurions. There had been a hunger
then, too. But there had been something different this time; regardless of the
heat she'd felt fanning her rage and seething passions, the joy usually found
as the enemy's blood anointed her blade and hand seemed dull and somehow bittersweet.
In the end, she'd only felt a hollow sense of being unsatisfied, her elaborate
feast denied.
Yet the blood continued to roar past her ears, thrumming like some ancient beat
that seemed to goad her passion and increase her hunger.
Gabrielle bit her lips and covered her stomach with both hands. “I guess
I am hungry, thank you.” The bard watched the Conqueror quizzically as the
woman dipped two fingers into her wine and sucked at them slowly. It was obvious
Xena was thinking of something else, and the bard found it quite unnerving. Her
hand trembled slightly as a droplet of red dripped slowly down the underside of
Xena's jaw. 'Oh, how I long to capture it with the tip of my finger, or perhaps
my tongue,' she thought distractedly.
A slow grin spread across the warrior's lips as she blinked slowly and focused
on the sheets that pooled about the woman's midriff.
“I must confess I've an appetite, too.”
The bard's eyes cleared as she felt a deep flush cover her throat and chest, and
suddenly found it very hard to tear her eyes away from the wolfish expression
on the Conqueror face.
“You have that look on your face,” she whispered aloud, finishing off
the sentence silently to herself, 'As if you would gladly eat me alive,' and then
shuddered like a leaf.
Xena could feel the pressure boiling just below the surface. Her nostrils twitched
as she thought of the bard's flesh dimpling under her closed hand, her rapacious
eyes longing for that look of shared lust as it slowly crept into her lover's
eyes. Would Gabrielle be like the lamb to slaughter or would she be a willing
accomplice? Visions of the bard's lower body pinned against the wall, her legs
wobbling as she lapped slowly, seemed to freeze any thought making them vanish
like early morning mist at noon.
“What do you see, Gabrielle?”
A fire of lust roared over her mind as Gabrielle looked deeply into the warrior's
darkening eyes. She knew what Xena wanted, and having witnessed that expression
of blood lust on more than one occasion she was well versed. When Xena had been
out on the field bashing heads; when she'd meted out her terrible punishment to
those who would defy her; when the evidence of her violence was still visible
upon her very body, Gabrielle knew only too well what the warrior required. But
was she up to the task?
She twitched her toes and felt a slight tingling. 'It's only a question of mind
over matter. I can ignore the pain…can't I?'
“Lord? I have known the coarse side of your amorous nature. Will you show
me its moderation and tenderness as well?”
Grinding her teeth, Lord Xena smiled briefly and then turned to refill her goblet.
Oh, how she wanted to throw caution to the wind and just fuck the girl! The urgency
of her battle lust was so that it all but screamed in her very ears. She had hoped
the wine might dull the effects, somehow postponing the inevitable, and cursed
her nature silently. It would not control her!
She looked down at her shaking hand as it gripped the goblet and felt a sense
of growing shame. Could she just forget the look on the young woman's face as
the mallet fell again? Could she just ignore the love that was so very pure and
so very evident in every look the bard threw her? Although the warrior could sense
some trepidation in the bard, it acted as an aphrodisiac as opposed to a reality
check. It was with this that the Conqueror battled, knowing that one false move
would destroy the trust she and the blonde were building. She didn't want that;
not now, not when her heart was just beginning to thaw out. Having seen the look
of betrayal on Lao Ma's face those many years ago, Xena was in no hurry to have
it repeated. No, if + ! !E @4@ >ф{3Þa P> V+aP\ ng
07/20 - 21 Young Teens
07/20 - 15 Lesbian Babes
07/20 - 16 Nude Teen
07/20 -