The Conqueror's Harvest

Chapter Four

A combination of Gabrielle's trusting yet accusing look hit her like a physical blow as the events of the last twenty-four hours played through the Conqueror's mind.  She burned as memories of reddened flesh seared into her brain, leaving her feeling cold and weak.  Xena blinked the sweat from her eyes and then dodged what would have been a bone breaking punch. The scent of the woman, and the soft, loving touch of her mouth left the Conqueror trembling with each beat of her disordered heart.

Both men came at her, sensing her indecisiveness, intent on causing as much damage as possible.  Part of her reveled in the knowledge that this was an all out war, and yet the Conqueror knew that she was already at a disadvantage, her attention split between where she wanted to be and what she had to do.  After having one kick blocked, Dagnon spun on his heel, raised his elbow sharply, and caught the warrior squarely on the point of her chin.  Xena saw stars as her head snapped back with the force of the blow and the practice field spun dizzily as she dropped slowly to one knee.

''Thracis, give Lord Xena something to drink. Perhaps her night with the slave has been too much?"

Xena grunted as she got to her feet, and spit a mouthful of blood out before taking a deep pull of the skin.  She blinked as the contents were noted.

"Wine this early in the morning, Dagnon?  One would think you were trying to press the advantage." 

Both men grinned wickedly and watched as the Conqueror slowly made her way over to the bench. 

"One could suppose it would logically follow, my lord, that you might be in a depleted state after a night of frivolity.  It is our duty to winnow out any weakness and seize upon it, is it not?"

Xena began removing her greaves, and then took another long pull of the wine skin.  She shook herself vigorously as the wine hit her empty belly.

"I like you, Thracis; you have potential."

The two men waited as the woman began slowly braiding her long hair into a thick plait.

"Since you feel there is a weakness, please feel free to act upon that assumption."

The men narrowed their eyes as the Conqueror turned her back to them and commenced checking her boots and leathers, seeing that each lace was taut, each buckle was cinched, and that her hair would not further impede her vision.

Dagnon nodded and gestured for his companion to move to the right, while he in turn made his way left.  Thracis smiled as the woman began humming a bit.  The Conqueror must have imbibed quite a bit to be in such a state.  He scratched the back of his neck as he thought of the comely wench undoubtedly still lying in the lord's bed.

He covered a yawn and flexed his hands.  Dawn was still busy threading red fingers across the sky, and they'd been sparring for a good two hours previous.  Regardless of the slight beating the woman was taking, there wasn't one bit of him that didn't fervently wish that he too could have the excuse of being sexually overtaxed.  He had thought being Dagnon' second would afford him some leeway with the women.  He'd been wrong; no one came willingly to the Lieutenant's bed.  And while there was something to be said for taking what you wanted, he enjoyed the times when women gladly fell into his arms and stayed for more than the threat of a knife in their bellies. 

His jaw tensed as he watched the play of muscles move across the lord's shoulders.  She was so confident, so terribly capable, making things look so damnedably easy.  He and the rest of the guard were just playthings for the Conqueror.  She took great glee in pointing out their shortcomings in such a way as to leave them in pain for days.  The skin over his right shoulder trembled as the memory of his first combat encounter with the Conqueror popped into his head.

Having his clavicle broken and his shoulder dislocated had been painful enough to endure, but it had been nothing compared to the pain and humiliation she had subjected him to in her recounting of the tears she'd seen on his face afterwards.  It had taken him some time to live that moment down having to prove himself constantly as man after man sought to better their position through his perceived weakness.  He'd gotten stronger since then, he'd had no choice.

With a sneer, he pushed his matted hair off of his face and then moved forward.

A small evil grin curled up the corner of Xena's mouth as she heard the two men advancing towards her.  She made a point of groaning as she bent to inspect her bootlaces again.  Her keen hearing detected a slight rustling and she shook out the tension in her arms.

"Ah, ah, ah Dagnon.  This is to be unarmed hand to hand combat only.  Unless you relish the thought of displaying a matching wound in the other hand, I'd suggest you drop the daggers."

Dagnon cursed silently, and dropped one of the daggers carelessly onto the ground, all the while burning holes into the Conqueror's back with his jet black eyes.  He had a score to settle with the bitch, and he meant to even things up, if only a little.  He'd take the victories where he could find them. 

He snorted derisively as she took another swig from the skin.  Yes, the night must have been vigorous indeed, and Lord Xena very weary, for them to have gotten in as many strikes as they had.  He smiled thinking about the tooth she'd spat out earlier.  There would be more where that came from.  Perhaps there wouldn't be so many waiting in line to enter the bitch's bed after a few perfections were eliminated.  He pursed his lips as he thought of how quickly the woman healed, and how very hard it was to leave her scarred.  Yes, she was a well-oiled inhuman specimen, just his kind of woman.

Anger seethed just below the surface as he thought of the Conqueror cavorting with the wench that he'd seen in the foyer.  His nostrils fluttered as he remembered the blonde's delicious breasts popping free of her bodice.  Lord Xena had impeccable taste in women, granted, but her propensity for winning their ardent ways was severely cutting down on any chances the rest of them had.  He clenched his fists and then winced as the wound in his hand throbbed painfully. When was the last time he'd had a beautiful woman in his bed?  Only the comely ones seemed to warrant any protection as the more popular officers held court.  That left him with the dregs, and they were becoming tiresome.  He'd almost gutted the last one, as she lay all but comatose, waiting for him to finish.  He gripped his second dagger as visions of the great Lord Xena down on her knees, hands stretching out in reverence as he unbuckled his pants swam before his eyes.

And then a black boot slammed into his forehead, and he found himself sailing across the field. Xena smirked as Dagnon's other blade fell into the mud.

Thracis dodged a roundhouse blow, and then gritted his teeth as the Conqueror's boot came in contact with his left side.  He moved back trying to think of a new strategy, but the woman pressed forward, throwing him off balance as she rained blow after blow upon his head and shoulders.

He managed to get in a body shot before his wrist was seized painfully, and then stars filled his vision as her head impacted on his own.  Staggering backwards, he noted the arrival of two more men onto the field.

"Dimitri, Prastin!"  Both men dropped their lances and raced in his direction.

Xena grinned and waited as the three of them began circling her.

"Yes, please do join our little party, gentlemen.  The more the merrier."

The cockier one of the two newcomers hunched his shoulders and came at her.  She easily dodged his blow and smashed her elbow into his face, pushing his grasping hands away as he went down.  The other two made brief eye contact as they saw her momentarily distracted and then took her head on.

Xena oofed as the wind was forced from her lungs and grunted with surprise as she felt her breasts being mauled.

"Always press the advantage." 

The Conqueror winced again as Thracis' meaty hand grabbed another handful and then her breath caught as she felt a sharp pain in her side.  With a roar, she centered her focus and rebounded in her attack.

A small whine seeped from between slack lips as one man rolled over clutching his groin and then Thracis found himself pinned on his back in the mud, the woman's strong thighs all but crushing his hips.

"Always," replied the Conqueror.

"One must know exactly where their opponent's weaknesses are, Thracis."  She dug her strong fingers into his shoulder joint and grinned cruelly as he screamed in pain.

"Yes, I thought this was the right shoulder."

Her eyes scanned the field as the crowd that had gathered began to disperse.  She locked eyes with a few of the bolder ones, and wiped her hands on her leathers as she slowly got to her feet.

"This is a regular training day, boys, and unless you're waiting for your turn, I'd suggest you pair off and go about your business."  One man stepped forward and Xena smiled.

"Good.  Come along then."  Taking a defensive stance, she gestured him forward with one hand, smiling all the while.  Two more joined the first and Xena decided a lesson had to be learned.  She wiped the mud from her face, and smirked as she noticed a smear of blood.

"Just because your opponent is unarmed, and looks to be injured, it would do you well to remember that appearances can be deceiving."

With a short cry, she leapt forward, jabbing her stiff fingers into the neck of one man, rotated her left leg backwards, pivoting the heel, and sent a next man reeling with a broken nose.

One of the two men left standing backed away, hands held up in defeat, while the other grinned and pulled a knife from his boot sheath.

"I'm going to cut you, bitch.  You think yer all that and more.  Even if ya do beat me, I'll have the pleasure of knowin' I marked ya."

He began slicing figure eight's into the air in front of the Conqueror.  One eyebrow lifted as Xena relaxed and dropped her hands to her sides.

"Another lesson to be learned, of course, is that one should neverÖ"

She waited as the man moved closer.

"ÖUse a weapon," Xena grabbed the man's right hand painfully and watched as the grin left his lips.

"ÖAs a threat, his main objective being intimidation, knowing that to do so might mean his very life.  Pulling a knife means you intend to take your opponents life any way you can.  And pulling a knife on meÖ"

She shoved the dagger up suddenly, pushing the blade deeply between the man's ribs and then watched as the look of surprise changed to one of sorrow.

"ÖIs just foolhardy, because the use of weapons are never a threat, they're a promise."

She held the man against her as warmth spread across her leathers, and watched as the light began leaving his eyes.

"I see you've learned this particular lesson, haven't you?  Too bad you won't be able to apply it."

And with that, she released him, and glared at the crowd that had gathered.

"If you use a weapon against someone, know for a certainty that you are willing to die taking his or her life.  This isn't a game, gentlemen.  We cannot afford to be soft, pulling our punches, and playing wooden soldiers.  Some of you will prove yourselves and go on to become my elite.  Others will act as fodder.  It's up to you which one you'd prefer."

She nodded as a few of her trusted Lieutenants came onto the field.

"My liege!  Are you hurt?"  Xena looked down at the blood dripping from her chest and belly.

"No, Andros.  It's not my blood."  He nodded and then gritted his teeth.

"You shouldn't be sparring without seconds nearby, Lord Xena.  The men can sometimes beÖrambunctious.  You know of the civil unrest, my lord.  It would take nothing for someone to place an assassin on the training field."

Xena shook her plait free, and grabbed her weapons as they were offered.

"It is your job to make sure my palace is free from assassins, Andros. But no matter; if I cannot defend myself, then I'm not fit to rule."

"My liege, please.  You don't understand how hard it is.  While it's true you've ruled this land fairly, it has been done with an iron fist.  There are many displeased with your methods."

Blue ice glinted as she turned to face him.

"You and Christos are like old women, Andros.  The people, for the most part, love me.  How can they not?  I've made their land free from tyranny, strife, and slaughter.  Their children grow fat by the efforts of this iron fist, and you would both do well to remember it."

Christos gave the Conqueror a sullen look and pulled at his friend's jerkin.

"By your leave, milord."

The Conqueror nodded her head as Christos bowed curtly and left. 

"Hold, Andros.  I need some questions answered.  Belacos is in charge of recruiting the troops, is he not?"  She grunted with his affirmation.

"Make sure he realizes there are to be stricter induction rules from now on.  My days of accepting riff-raff are long since gone, Andros.  I want my men to be sharp, battle ready and loyal.  This recent lot has none of those qualities.  Get rid of them.  Now."

"Yes milord."  He cleared his throat.

"Lord Xena, you seem to beÖbleeding."

She pursed her lips tightly when her right hand came away from her side sticky with blood.

"Yes, I know.  Just a nick, I'm sure, and nothing a little catgut won't fix."  One black brow rose dangerously as the man opened his mouth to protest.  "Alright, send the healer to my rooms."  She sighed dramatically.

"Bloody nursemaids.  I remember tending to my own wounds.  Never needed a healer back then, and I probably don't need one now.  Yes, in fact belay that order, Andros.  I'll tend to the problem myself."

"But ConquerorÖ"

She held one hand up, the set of her jaw brooking no arguments.

"Tell the healer to drop his kit by my sitting room sometime this afternoon.  I have things to attend to. 

Andros nodded and then cleared his throat again.

  "Spit it out, man.  Are you sick, or do you have something to say?"

  Andros scrubbed his square jaw with the back of his hand, and coughed again.

  "You're a good man, Andros, but if you don't tell me what's on your mind right now, I'll seriously consider replacing you as my second.  I need someone I can trust, and someone who isn't afraid to speak plainly with me.  I thought you were that man."

Andros swallowed the lump in his throat, determined not to irritate the Conqueror with any further hesitation.  Although trust wasn't something he was sure Lord Xena had a great abundance of in her life, he was honoured that she felt he warranted even a small measure of whatever she did have.

"Milord, it's about the slave."

Lord Xena's expression remained stony as the man continued, although in reality a tightening of her abdominal muscles was occurring.  She had tried to blot out any thought of the woman, punishing her body with endless drills, and baiting Thracis and Dagnon with any sort of distraction she could.  Xena probed the vacant spot where a back molar had been.  Yes, they had acted true to form.  She knew of their deep abiding hatred of her, and was only too happy to foster it.  If the men were openly plotting and collaborating against her, they were less likely to be trusted by the others, those who may have their own political axes to grind, but were unwilling to draw public attention to themselves.  People like Andros and Christos performed the necessary clandestine services needed to make sure the two factions didn't end up in bed together.

Andros watched carefully as the Conqueror tried to hide the pain that was becoming obviously more intense as she tried to draw breath. He was both glad and surprised the woman had even considered the aid of a healer.  He bit his lip as he realized just how bad the wound must be if she had given in so easily. Thinking about the terrible bloodshed the resulting civil war would cause made his scrotum shrivel.  Images of his own battered remains hanging from a cross flittered briefly in front of him before he blinked it away.  That was assuming there would be anything left of his body after the numerous torture sessions, of course.

"What about her?"

The Captain shuddered as his imagination continued down the same merry path.  He knew there would be no stone unturned by the Conqueror's many enemies to obliterate every man, woman and child connected with her reign.  Andros was one of the few men who had been with Lord Xena from the beginning.  The rest were firmly ensconced in Hades' cruel embrace.  Only he and Dagnon had survived.  There was very little love lost between the two of them, Andros being privy to the majority of the skeletons jangling in the man's closet.  He was a man who knew too much, a fact that kept him ever vigilant in his dealings with the troops. 

Images of he and those loyal to the Conqueror trussed up on crosses over the land were horrible, but what Dagnon and his henchmen would do to Lord Xena made him want to run blindly into the night, seeking what little solace he could find in the arms of madness.  Such beauty, such strength, such courageÖsuch a damnedable waste, languishing here in a prison of her own making, and such a sin against the gods in the hands of her numerous enemies.  His heart seemed to stop as the lord reached out to touch his shoulder.

"Come along, man, why do you quiver and shake like an old man.  She isn't that horrible.  Obstinate, brooding and strong willed, but all the moreÖcomely, for it."  Both sets of eyebrows rose as the words left Xena's lips.  Just what did this woman mean to the Conqueror?

"I see.  I only ask because the lord's chamberlain was dismissed last night, the weekly appointment cancelled without cause, and today you seem quite distracted.  I've not seen you in such shape after a morning in the practice field in a very long time."

"Are you suggesting that perhaps I've had too much to drink, that perhaps my evening didn't go as planned? She's just a stupid girl who's more trouble than she is worth.  And since when did I need an excuse not to see Mikos, or anyone else for that matter?  I think you presume too much, Andros."

The dangerous glint had returned to Lord Xena's eye, but Andros smiled nonetheless, his cheeks aching with the force of it. He wondered why this slave seemed to be so important that she was worth two nights of the Conqueror's attention.  He noticed the muscles in her jaw flexing rhythmically, and supposed the lord Chamberlain might never know of his good luck. The Captain had had to explain many an unseemly death away as accidental when the rage was upon the dark lord.  With the Conqueror, one never knew which way to jump.

Andros decided that the best course of action was placation.  As sorrowful as he might feel for the poor sex slave awaiting her fate in the lord's chambers, perhaps her death wouldn't be in vain and the rage he could see dancing in the Conqueror's eyes would be slaked.

"Mikos is his own excuse, milord.  I've only had the displeasure of being caught in his web of endless words once.  I have no idea how you stomach the man. I'm sure whatever dalliance you may find will be more interesting than a night with him."

Xena squeezed her arm hard against the seeping wound and smiled brittly, her momentary fatigue forgotten.

"So you see?  This common slave is a momentary distraction, nothing more.  In fact, she may prove to be an excuse again tonight, though perhaps not to her liking.  Yes, see to it that the lord Chamberlain is kept from my door.  And the meeting I had with the emissaries later this afternoon?  Cancel them.  I don't want to be disturbed."

Andros nodded slowly, his brow furrowed with confusion.  Lord Xena's eyes had a distinct feral look to them.  Perhaps the diversion wouldn't be such a good thing after all.  Biting his lip, he said nothing more as the Conqueror stalked back towards the castle.

TO CHAPTER FIVE

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