Part Ten
Gabrielle ran through the line of Amazons and threw herself down in the dust, cradling Xena's motionless body. There was a trace of blood on her lips, the only evidence of containing a Power within the cage of muscle and bone. She was still as death, not even breathing. Gabrielle reacted on instinct. She pressed her lips to Xena's, forcing her breath into the warrior's lungs. She tasted Xena's blood on her tongue and the coppery taste brought up a welling panic, but the bard fought it down. She concentrated on breathing life back into the warrior's body, dragging her spirit back from where it had gone when Oya took over. Gabrielle's world narrowed down to that, to the statue that lay limp in her arms, the breath passing from her, into her lover's body, in a hope of coaxing it back out again. Her breathing became more desperate when Xena did not respond.
"Damn it, you come back to me! You're not doing this to me again." She raged against the warrior's chest, grabbing the straps of her leathers and shaking her lover, alternating cursing her and forcing breath into her lungs. Xena's lips had turned blue, her flesh was cool, from the lack of life, or the inhabitance of the Keeper of the gates to the cemetery, Gabrielle didn't know. She felt her anger focus itself, then a tiny light exploded behind her eyes. No, that wasn't the way. Anger had fought Xena's spirit down, sent it to exile in whatever dark place it now lurked.
"You said you wouldn't give in to the anger. You said you'd let love take you, not vengeance. My love. I'm not letting you off the hook. You don't get to break promises to me, Xena. Come back."
Malache's eyes swam with tears, remembering the night in the cage when she cradled Oromenes' body, her spirit fled. Gabrielle had given her strength then, dragged her away from her grief. She could do no less now. She broke the circle, crossing to Gabrielle's side. She put her hand on Gabrielle's shoulder, offering her an anchor.
"Entice her. Remind her of why she should not stay where she is. I think Oya's anger was so great it pushed her under, she will have to fight back through it to return."
Gabrielle stroked the raven hair away from Xena's face, tenderly. "Don't stay there. Elysia is here, remember? Nothing can touch you when you have that. Come back through the pain. You've never shied away from a little pain in your life." She held her hand above the warrior's heart, giving her all her energy. It came like heat from her hand, warming the chilled flesh under the leather.
Gabrielle saw the eyes flicker under closed lids before she felt the breath against her skin. She choked back a sob and kept calling to her, in a voice so soft Malache couldn't hear what she said. Whatever it was that passed between them, whatever promises the Queen made to her hero, it was enough. Xena's eyes blinked open, and she was back inside them. She smiled, just a little, at her lover, and flexed her hand over Gabrielle's.
"I ...hurt." She said, in a voice so ravaged Gabrielle could barely recognize it.
This time Gabrielle didn't hold back the sob. She curled around Xena's body, unable to raise her head.
Malache heard the broken sound of the Lord Chabouk's voice, and looked around for water. There, on the altar, was a clay cup. She ran to it, returning swiftly. Gabrielle's head was bent down, her eyes blinded with tears, and so she didn't see Malache hand the cup to Xena. The hero took it in her left hand, her eyes shifting to Malache. She looked at the cup fixedly, listening to Gabrielle cry. Her thumb closed on the rim of the clay cup, shattering off a piece. She struggled to sit, Gabrielle had to move back to let her. Xena drank from the cup.
It was then that Gabrielle saw the clay piece missing from the rim.
"Xena, no! You've done enough, they don't get to have any more of you!" Gabrielle cried out, but it was too late. Her lover had shattered the vessel, then drunk from it.
"I'll ...come back." Xena whispered, her hand reached up to caress Gabrielle's face. The bard shook her head, but she couldn't stop it.
She lay back down, her body slumping. It wasn't like the coming of Oya, this time. No sound of great howling, no feeling of rage that rocked the ground. Just a shaking of the hero's body, like the shudder of a cold wind. Then, she opened her eyes. Unfocussed, the eyes swam past Gabrielle without recognition, past Malache. They swept along the circle, at the ranks upon ranks of Amazons gathered there, and lit up. One large hand reached into the Greek hero's right bracer, and drew forth the armband hidden there, the red gold lioness of the royal house. The hand lifted, and closed the armband on her right arm, above the elbow. Xena's body stood, faltering a little, the muscles still stretched and torn from Oya.
In the perfect silence, a mortal silence of withheld breath, the Greek's body walked across the fire circle, to the royal place. On the way it stopped, and casually reached out a hand, plucking a spear from the nerveless fingers of a terrified warrior. The Greek's body used the spear as a brace, but also as mark of pride, of recognition. This was a warrior coming home.
Tanit, Nzinga, Oseye, Izegbe and Enomwoyi faced the Greek hero. Oseye and Tanit trembled, knowing what was coming. Nzinga trembled for far different reasons, fearing it. She knew, it was impossible not to, but her heart cracked before the knowledge and refused to beat until it was confirmed. The Greek's body smiled broadly, a smile not suited to the muscles of Xena's face, seeking rather the conformation of another.
"I have returned, my wife." Mazena said, in the ravaged whisper the Greek's voice afforded her.
Nzinga, Queen of the Amazons of Dahomey, took a step forward, into the circle. She had faced eggun before. In her role as Queen, the dead were consulted for their wisdom, and often they asked to speak with her. So, as a Queen, she was ready for this. But as a woman, who had loved and lost her handsome, laughing young wife, she was not. So it was as Queen she responded.
"You are welcome here, ancestor, sister, member of the royal house. What wisdom do you bring to the nation?" She said, her tone remarkably even.
Both of the Greeks' eyebrows shot up and she cocked her head, leaning on the spear. Had her hair been bound up in a warrior's braids, had her skin been black as basalt, it might have been Mazena standing there. As it was, it was not the Greek, nor her expression, and it sheered a path to Nzinga's heart.
"So formal. I bring no wisdom to the nation." Came the whispered reply, with the hint of laughter underneath it.
"Then what do you bring?" Nzinga asked, her veneer of control splintering in the face of that laughter. Mazena (for truly it was her, even in the Greek's body) tossed the spear down, and spread wide her arms. She stood, the grin on her face, welcoming, until Nzinga broke. A sob tore from her throat, the sound stunning to Tanit and Oseye, who had never heard their mother cry. Nzinga stood and trembled like a child, harsh tears running from her eyes, unable to move. Mazena stepped forward and folded Nzinga in her arms, catching her as she fell.
Gabrielle watched as her lovers' body went to its knees, cradling the sobbing Queen of Dahomey.
" I have missed you, Mazena. More than you know."
"Ah, I know. I am always with you. I see how you make an idol of yourself. Only I went into the cemetery, my wife, but both of us died. Yet you live. Our family needs you. You should return to them." Xena's whisper was stronger, had a vibrancy to it. It carried across the circle, echoing. She raised Nzinga's head up, cupping her chin.
"You are too much the Queen. It sets you too far apart, makes you less of an Amazon. Let our women love you, Nzinga, not just worship you. Rejoin the circle of your nation."
Nzinga's mahogany eyes were lost behind the veil of tears. The weight of the words in her throat closed it off, strangling her. Words she had tortured herself with, this year long. She thought she might never breath again, if she did not say them. The eyes that regarded her were pale, not the warm brown of her wife, but the expression on her face was the same. It brought her heart to the ground. The Queen was gone, replaced by a grieving woman, at long last.
"I needed you, Mazena. I never told you."
The laughter was warm, it flowed over her, filling her heart. "You think I didn't know? I was young, my wife, I was not a fool. Let others know the same. This is the only wisdom I bring you - we are Amazons because we love one another." Mazena whispered. "Look to these Greeks, who move the heavens aside to get to one another. That is how Amazons love. It is how I love you, still."
"I wish I could go with you." Nzinga said, and her voice broke the heart of every woman listening. There was a small noise, like the sound of gates swinging open.
"Remember me, and I am never far." Mazena bent down and kissed Nzinga, helping her to stand. Mazena took a step back from Nzinga, then another. The Greek's body fell to one knee, her fist plunged down into the dust, holding the body upright. The black head fell forward, hair hanging down like a mask.
The air stilled, sound came back into the circle. Breath that had been held escaped. Nzinga still stood, tears washing her face. Gabrielle ran to Xena's side, slipping under the hero's arm. Her lover looked at her, pain clear in her eyes, but it was Xena, and so Gabrielle rejoiced. She helped her to stand, wincing when Xena winced.
"Are you all right?" The bard asked the hero.
"I wouldn't want to do that everyday." Xena whispered, her voice a shadow of itself.
"Don't talk. Your poor throat." Gabrielle said, touching it.
"I love you." Xena whispered, her lips forming the words. Gabrielle took her hand and kissed it.
"You better. I'm going to give you Hades for treating yourself like this, you know."
Xena didn't try and speak, but her grin was back.
Nzinga had turned back to her family, facing her daughters. The hero and Queen watched as she approached them, moving like she was as sore as Xena, her body worn down. But her head was high, her eyes clear under the tears. She held out her arms to her daughters, and Tanit and Oseye ran to her. She kissed them, both, as they held her.
"I have been gone a long time. It will not be easy, to heal that. But I am here."
The Greek Queen supported the hero as they walked to the royal family.
"We owe you more than I can express, Xena of Greece. The nation, my family, I, owe you a debt of gratitude that will never be repaid. What do you ask of me?" "
Free Gabrielle and Geb." Xena whispered, and the bard swatted her.
"No talking. You like to let me do all the talking anyway. Is the trial over?" Gabrielle asked Nzinga.
"It is finished. Xena of Greece, called the Lord Chabouk in Har, is innocent of any crime against the nation of Dahomey. You are a hero without peer. I would be honored if you would take my hand." Nzinga extended her right hand. Xena took off the armband of red gold, and clasped Nzinga's hand firmly. The nation gathered there, witnessing the hand of the hero and the hand of their Queen join, exploded into cheers. Xena, unable to make a sound above that, dropped the armband into Nzinga's hand.
The Queen, tears in her eyes, took it and placed it on her own arm, opposite the one she wore. The healing had begun.
It took two weeks for Xena's voice to return to a shadow of itself. In that time Agassou the Panther simply forbade her to speak.
"The voice carries the soul. Shall you risk what is not yours? All the nation saw Gabrielle of Greece call you back from the gates of the cemetery. It is she who owns your soul, it is she who may speak for you. Submit, hero, you are forsworn."
Xena's eyes blazed up, but a touch from the hand of her bard quieted them. There was nothing in Agassou's words she could argue with, and so she did not. She spent the weeks a glowering presence, avoided by all but the bravest Amazons, who dared approach the woman who had contained Oya's rage and lived. Her own anger must be a thing not meant to be seen on the surface of the earth.
The one among them who, besides Gabrielle, who had seen her anger unleashed, even loved her for it, spent his time at her side. He was as silent as she, the breaking of his neck by Oya had changed him. Geb was no longer a laughing, self confident desert chieftain. There had come a silence into his soul, the silence of long gazing on the wasteland each man carries in his own heart. Anansi had healed him, but as it was said, the touch of Anansi is not always a gift, and never a gift unmixed. He would never again be who he was, before he'd been Ridden by the Trickster. He sent his raiders away, under command of Hardanes and Aram. He knew he would never ride with them again. The silent warrior and the silent dwarf spent a portion of each day gazing out over the dun hills at the silence of the desert beyond, finding there an emptiness they sought for different reasons. Gabrielle could see that Xena had found a kindred spirit, however the casing of flesh was arraigned, and let them be alone together in their companionable silence.
The Army of the Goddess returned to the City of Har with the General Azarnes. Great King Oromenes and her wife Malache the Beautiful journeyed on with the royal family of Dahomey, intent on cementing their ties. What better way, then by accompanying them back to the land of the Amazons for the wedding of Nzinga's third daughter?
Even after seeing Mazena, after the transformation of embracing her dead wife in the body of the Greek hero, Nzinga was still Nzinga. Oseye approached Gabrielle, after a few days of the Greek Queen keeping to her tent with her hero. It was said, afterward, that the sounds issuing from that tent formed the basis for a cycle of romantic poetry, to be sung for generations by the Amazons of Dahomey. Oseye was cognizant of this, as she scratched at the tent flap, as awkward around the Greek Queen and hero as she had ever been.
"Come in." Came Gabrielle's cheerful voice, from inside the tent. Oseye ducked in, and squatted in front of reclining Queen, her head in her hero's lap. The hero was stroking her hair, wholly absorbed in that task.
"Oseye! What can we do for you?" Gabrielle asked, brightly. Her days with her hero had been well spent, evidently. Oseye blushed, having only the vaguest notion of what occurred inside of the hide tent.
"I, we, all want to thank you, Gabrielle of Greece, for what you and Xena have done. My mother is...my mother again, not just the Queen."
"You're welcome. But you've all thanked us. The feast, the dancing, the wrestling with Captain Musu, that song about Xena-"
Oseye blushed again, thinking about the songs being sung about the pair of Greeks around the camp, most of them beyond repeating to the lovers face to face.
"Yes. So it is that I hesitate to ask more, of two who have given so much to the nation."
Xena tapped Gabrielle's shoulder, and jerked her chin at Oseye.
"Xena wants you to spit it out." Gabrielle said, correctly interpreting her lover's mood.
"Speak to Nzinga for me about Malika." Oseye said, in a rush. A smile of pure complicity spread over Xena's face. She nodded to the girl, and patted Gabrielle's shoulder.
"Of course we will. I will, I should say. We'll have it handled by this evening." Gabrielle said, warmly. Xena motioned to the tent flap, then at Oseye. She touched her own chest, then Gabrielle's, over her heart. The bard smiled at her lover, a smile so intimate that Oseye felt like she should leave.
"Xena says she understands. You feel about Malika like she feels about me, the gods themselves will not be able to stand in the way of that. Go on, and get ready for your wedding." Gabrielle translated, with a small smile of personal joy. Oseye took her hands, impulsively, and kissed them. She hurried out of the tent to seek Malika, at Agassou's campsite. If the Greek Queen vouched for it, it was as good as done.
I know, I elaborated a bit. You more or less said what I said." Gabrielle said, to Xena's raised eyebrow. "But she should go get ready for her wedding, we are going to handle it. We've handled everything else in this part of the world, what's one Amazon wedding?" Gabrielle saw the expression on Xena's face, and shook her head. "Don't you take that tone with me, warrior. I might decide that I haven't given you enough Hades for not telling me about that stunt with the eggun." Xena shrugged, and turned her face to the tent wall.
"You are so transparent. You sulk like a six-year-old. Stop. You know I love you."
Xena cocked her head, eyebrows raised.
"How can you doubt me?" Gabrielle asked.
Xena hung her head, the jet-black hair hiding her features.
"Xeeena." Gabrielle cajoled, drawing the hero's head back up. "What is it?"
The warrior motioned to the tent flap, to herself, to Gabrielle. The blue eyes added the unspoken words. She gently moved Gabrielle off her lap and stood, enacting the motions of drawing her sword. She swung the imaginary blade like a butcher's cleaver, Gabrielle could see the bloody flying in a scarlet rain, feel the hot breath of the combatants on her skin. Xena turned, her eyes feral and savage, her teeth bared in a vicious snarl.
Anyone else living would have flinched back from it, even Geb. Gabrielle did not. Xena dropped her sword hand, her head fell forward on her chest. She collapsed to her knees and crawled to the bard, laying her head in Gabrielle's lap. Automatically, Gabrielle's hands caressed the dark head, combing the jet hair through her fingers. Xena turned her head, her eyes looking up at Gabrielle, gentle as a kitten.
"I understand. No one else, in all the world." Gabrielle said, stroking her warrior.
Xena sat up, and took Gabrielle's hand. She placed it over her heart, above the leather. Gabrielle could feel the pounding beneath her palm, the strength of that savage heart, beating for her. She could see the question in her lover's eyes, as well.
"Yes." She answered, without hesitation. "We should wait until we get back to Greece, but yes."
Nzinga, Queen of the Amazons of Dahomey, was trying to have her dinner. The constant interruption wasn't helping her mood. In the space of a few minutes Oseye, Tanit, Captain Musu, Geb the Nubian, even her grown daughters Enomwoyi and Izegbe had dropped by her tent, just to see how she was feeling. She answered them all the same, she felt fine, but couldn't vouch for her mood if one more person interrupted her meal. It was a tribute, Nzinga thought, to the changes that had happened in the nation since the ceremony of the ancestors, that people now felt that they could pester her unmercifully.
She raised the cup to her lips and paused, her hearing still as sharp as a lioness on the hunt.
"Stealth does not suit you, or you are not trying hard enough. Come in and be done with it." She said. To her surprise, it was the Greek Queen who ducked in the tent flap, along with the silent hero. She had thought they were still secluded in their tent, cementing ties of their own, after the hero's ordeal. Nzinga had refused to move the army back to Dahomey until they had had their time; it was the least she could do for them, who had given the nation, and her, so much. She understood, in the grieving of her own heart, how much it hurt to lose your lifemate. These Greeks, for all their fire and passion, seemed like old lovers sometimes, knowing each other better than they knew themselves. It was an odd mix to watch, the madness of youth, coupled with the affection of a long life together. Nzinga glanced at the glory of the Greek Queen's face, the beauty there staggering after her days in her lovers arms. She wondered how long they had been together.
"Good evening, Nzinga." Gabrielle said, brightly.
The Queen of Dahomey motioned for the Queen of Greece to sit on the floor of the tent, along with her. The hero remained standing, behind her Queen, arms folded. Had Nzinga not been used to the posturing of warriors, it might have unnerved her, but she found it charming, in its way. The Greek fighter wanted there to be no room for question, even in the tent of Nzinga, that she was the champion of Gabrielle. She wore her place with great pride, and seemed a little sad that no one challenged her, so she might defend it.
"You may dispense with formality, Gabrielle. Half the nation of Dahomey, as well as many distinguished guests, have already dropped by, apparently to prepare me for your coming. And so I am prepared, and so you are here. What may I do for the friends of my family and myself?" Nzinga said, setting aside her cup.
"It's more of what we want to do for your family. One of your daughters has asked us to speak on her behalf." Gabrielle said. The hero tapped Gabrielle's shoulder, the Queen patted her hand. "Not yet, my love."
"Though many stories are told of my ferocity, why do you approach me so gently? What does Tanit want, that she asks you to intervene?" Nzinga asked.
Xena shook her head, the motion of the black hair drew Nzinga's eyes up.
"Who then?" She asked the hero, forgetting that she was forbidden to speak.
"Nzinga, I know of the regard that you have for Xena and I. I know of the regard you have for Agassou the Panther, how vital a griot is to your nation. It's about griots that I want to talk. Without the storytellers, the keepers of the history and culture, we lose who we are, do we not? It might even be said that a griot is more important than a warrior, because they are more rare, the training much more specialized, and talent plays a big part -" Gabrielle broke off, when Xena shifted her weight and refolded her arms.
"Oseye. She's in love, and wants your leave to marry." Gabrielle said, sensing that Xena's patience was fraying.
"Oseye? Who does she want to marry?" Nzinga asked, thunderstruck. Her middle daughter had fallen in love, while she'd been swamped in her own grief. "What warrior has stolen her heart?"
"Well, that's it. It isn't a warrior. This is where the bit about the importance of-" Gabrielle was cut off by Xena's hand, dropping onto her shoulder.
"Agassou's apprentice Malika." Gabrielle finished, and Xena smiled.
"A griot's apprentice? The daughter of Nzinga wants to marry a griot's apprentice?" The Queen said, the idea simply never having occurred to her. Every woman in the nation bore the spear, there were ten thousand warriors to choose from outside the tent flap. And her daughter had selected the one girl in Dahomey who was sworn not to bear arms?
"The Queen is the leader of Dahomey in war. It is our place to be first in battle, to lead the army, to be a bearer of the spear. How else might a nation of warriors follow us, were we not warriors ourselves?" Nzinga said.
"Oseye is already a warrior, she earned her spear. She's seen battle, at your side. If she becomes Queen, I don't think any warrior in the nation would hesitate to follow her. The Queen is also the leader of the nation in peace. You proved that, in accepting the hand of Oromenes of Har and stopping the war. A queen has to have wisdom and tradition on her side, as well as courage. What better way to balance that for Oseye, than by having her marry a griot?" Gabrielle argued, in a reasonable voice.
Nzinga hesitated, tradition crowding her. This had never happened before, in the long years of her knowledge. Xena dropped into a crouch, facing the Queen of Dahomey. Her pale eyes drew Nzinga's, reminding her of a moment when another had looked out of those gems at her. Xena tilted her head, holding Nzinga's eyes. She closed one large hand around her own upper arm, where the armband of the royal house might be worn, then closed the same hand around Gabrielle's arm. Gabrielle added the words.
"We've seen them together, Nzinga. They are already family, it isn't up to us to allow or not. All we can ask is the chance to bless their union."
Nzinga turned her head away, silent for a the space of many heartbeats. Gabrielle made a move to reach out to her, but was restrained by Xena's hand on her arm. She glanced at her lover, who shook her head. The Queen had to bear this for herself.
At last Nzinga turned her head back, and Gabrielle could see the weariness in her eyes. The beauty of her face was the beauty of character, of a woman who had loved, and lost, and loved again, had lost faith and had to find it for herself. It showed her strength, underneath all else, the willingness to keep going. Even bereavement had a grace to it, when it was acknowledged and lived with. It was how Gabrielle pictured Xena looking, in a decade or so, once wisdom joined with hard experience. It is how she hoped she would one day look.
"I love my family, oh honored guests. I have recently been reminded of how vital it is for Amazons to love one another. Mazena told me to look to you, who move heaven aside to be with one another. Let you be my example, then. Go tell my daughter to come in and speak with me." Nzinga said, with life in her voice.
Xena and Gabrielle rose to go, the hero holding out her arm for the Queen to use in getting up. Nzinga's voice halted them.
"Oh, and Gabrielle? Find Agassou the Panther. Have her tell the army to get ready to move. We have a wedding to hold in Dahomey."
The army was on the move by first light. Agassou went from campfire to campfire, spreading the word - Oseye, daughter of Nzinga, was to wed Malika, the griot's apprentice. The Amazons not already convinced of the changes in their Queen had no more doubts, when this announcement went out. It was a joyous band that marched back across the border, shaking the yellow sands of Baluchis from their heels. The good grasslands of Dahomey caressed their feet as soon as they passed through the guardian's huts. Runners went on ahead to prepare the closest village for the greatest celebration they were ever likely to see. The Queen was coming with her triumphant spears, to hold a wedding.
By the time the army arrived, the fires had been lit, cattle had been slaughtered and the smell of roasting meat filled the air. The army camped out across the grasslands, dividing up now into village groups, the fire circles containing friends and lovers, wives and daughters. Griots went from fire to fire, telling the stories of the Battle of Baluchis, of the bravery of the Boy King of Har, in coming unarmed to the camp of Nzinga. They spoke of the generosity of their Queen, in extending her hand to the Great King of Har, and ending the war. Girls not yet old enough to take the spear sighed in envy when the heard of Tanit's coming of age, her adventures with the Queen of the Greek Amazons, her first kill, her reunion with her mother. Tanit herself was called to tell the tale in person, at many a fire circle.
The tale of the Greek hero and her courage in accepting Oya's anger, the tale of Geb the Nubian and Anansi the Spider were saved for the night of the wedding feast. The Greeks sat with the royal family in their place before the central fire, to the right hand of the Queen. Next to them sat Oromenes of Har and her wife Malache, once foes, now honored guests. When the wedding ceremony was finished, when Oseye had pledged her spear to the defense of her bride, the cattle had been given, the calling of the blessings done, the pair of lovers walked to the royal place. There Nzinga took the red gold arm band of the running lioness, and placed it on the arm of her daughter's bride. The girl, shy to the last, ducked her head, feeling the lack of the heavy braids that all the warriors gathered around the Queen wore. But the touch of Oseye's hand on her waist, the look of pride in her new wife's eyes, was enough. She took Oseye's offered hand, and sat with her and the royal family.
Agassou the Panther walked to the center of the circle, leaning on her spear shaft. She raised her ancient eyes to the ranks of women, taking all of them in.
"We are surrounded in beauty." She said, and the nation murmured an assent.
"Strength is the servant of love, not its master. Ferocity is the tool of the warrior, but not her heart. Remember the days of Nzinga, who ruled Dahomey when our grandmother's grandmothers were not yet born. In her pride she marched on the City of Har, by the strength of her arm did she grind the Army of the Goddess down to dust." Agassou paused on this, letting the Amazons remember the tale. Gabrielle glanced at Malache and Oromenes, to see if they took offense, but they seemed calm, enjoying the tale. Oromenes' night black hair caught blue sparks from the firelight, she tilted her head toward Malache, smiling. There was no anger in the King of Har.
"Yet it was love that brought Nzinga down, love that stayed her hand, standing on the very battlefield, thigh deep in the bodies of those she had slain. She looked on the face of General Narbada, the proud commander of the Army of the Goddess, and she knew love. For love of her Nzinga spared her City. For love of Nzinga, Narbada took her hand, still stained with the blood of Harrian soldiers, and came as her wife to Dahomey. In this she became an Amazon!" Agassou's voice rose, taking on wings.
It reached out over the heads of the gathered soldiers, to the village, to the grasslands beyond. In ran on into the night, heard by the orishas, by Oya the Warrior, who looked on her women with pride. Next to her, inside of the gates to the cemetery a figure stood, leaning on a spear, ear cocked. She smiled, at the sounds from the wedding and threw back her head, arraying the braids over her shoulders. The echo of her hearty laugh came back across the grasslands, a ghost of a sound that just tickled the ear of the Queen. Nzinga glanced up, as if at the touch of a hand. She saw Oseye and Malika, hands clasped together, listening to Agassou's tale. The fire hit the gold of their armbands, highlighting them.
Geb the Nubian watched from the fringes of the firelight, hands hooked in his belt. It was good to see the Amazons rejoicing, it was pleasant to see the dancing and hear the songs. The food was not the food of a Pharaoh's court, but certainly as good as any he'd had in his days as a chieftain of raiders. He felt apart from the festivities, he, who had known how to laugh through any pain. Since Anansi had Ridden him, he felt no pain from his limb. The constant agony of his body had become almost a friend to him, to have it gone suddenly was like relearning to walk without gravity. The touch of an Amazon god had done this to him. He didn't like to follow any gods, and certainly had made a life out of carving his own fortune from his circumstances. What was he to do now, that the world had changed?
A small sound alerted him to the presence of another, a deliberate sound, for he knew the warrior could move more silently than the coming of night.
"Thought I might find you out here." Xena's whispered voice came from the darkness.
"And where else would I be, great killer? Ah, I should say 'hero' now, for that is who you are. You are no more the Drinker of Blood than I am the chieftain of raiders. My hate is gone, hero. I don't know how to live without it." Geb admitted.
The towering Greek blocked out the stars, from his vantagepoint. She stood next to him, and let the sounds of the drumming wash over them.
"I came to get you. The party returned from Palmyra. They have the Syrian. And the two Romans, who he worked with." Xena said, one hand catching at her throat. Her voice has started to return, she was testing it out when Gabrielle couldn't hear her. Geb nodded, his gold earring bobbing.
"I felt it, on the night wind. Come then, hero. We have business to finish. Leave the wedding celebration to those suited for it."
The Amazon warriors camped a respectful distance from the celebration, in knowledge that the sounds that carried on the wind might be very disturbing to the uninitiated. They were handpicked warriors, led by Captain Musu, to journey to the garrison and see if Anansi had kept his word. As Xena and Geb approached their camp, they could see that in this, the Spider had spoken the truth. Two Romans, their military haircuts grown out from the week on the march, were bound and gagged on the ground. Musu pointed to them with one brawny arm, speaking softly to Geb.
"The Captain says that these Romans belong to the Amazons of Dahomey. This one was the commander of the garrison, that one the owner of the Syrian. They are claimed by Nzinga for Amazon justice." The Nubian translated, watching the Romans with detachment. The one identified as the commander was stupid with fright, his eyes roving over the gag without purpose. His fellow Roman had the look of a soldier, even bound and gagged. He bore himself upright in his bonds, and kept his face a stony mask.
"How did they get two Roman officers out of an armed garrison without starting a war?" Xena asked Geb, barely glancing at them. Musu smiled, and stretched out her massive shoulders. Geb translated as she spoke, trying to capture the Captain's pleased tone.
"The Amazons camped outside of the garrison and waited. They had heard Anansi speak when he confronted Oya, they knew what to wait for. Once they got to Palmyra they built an altar to the orishas and called him, to remember his promise to Oya, and the nation. In the night, a dream came to the Romans, the dream of a spider. They went mad with it, and followed it out of the shelter of their walls, out of the ring of their soldiers. Unarmed, they walked into the night, following the Spider. It was easy work to take them, as a lion takes an antelope. Now they wait for Nzinga's justice."
Musu pointed to a stretch of grass behind the tents. She looked at Xena, with a mix of pride and compassion. The Greek hero walked in the direction the Amazon Captain had pointed, knowing what she would find.
There, staked out spread eagle, was the Syrian. He opened his eyes over his gag when he heard footsteps approach, not knowing the tread of his own death. His eyes saw the figure that loomed above him, large hands spread wide, fingers curling into claws. His face went bloodless at the chips of sapphire that glared at him, out of that shadowed face. Skulls looked down at him.
"Musu had a gift for you, great killer." Geb observed. He watched as Xena swayed over the bound body, saw the conflict raging in her. The muscles in her arms twitched and danced, her knuckles turned white with the desire to strangle this man, even helpless as he was. The anger was instinctive and immediate. This was the man who had taken Gabrielle from her, and made her think Gabrielle was dead. This casing of flesh and blood had caused her all the agony of Tartarus. Every sweet thought of revenge that had seen her through those terrible days came back, calling to her to give in, to rend this foe like the beast he was. Tear out his neck with her teeth, if she had to. It was her right.
"A gift for you as well, Geb. I still have the dagger that you gave me, when we met. I promised you that I would kill him for you." Xena's voice bore little resemblance to any human thing, the harsh whisper more frightening than a shout could have been. The anger of Oya was echoed in the anger of Xena.
Geb's answer surprised her. "I release you from it. Throw the dagger away."
Her eyes snapped around and fixed on him. "What?"
Geb stood, his arms across his chest. His head was back, his mahogany eyes fixed on the horizon. "Don't kill him. I don't have the hatred for him, anymore. Anansi robbed me of it. If I had, I would rend him myself. To what avail, great killer?"
"He took Gabrielle from me!" Xena said, through teeth clenched in rage.
"And that was effective, wasn't it? Even with the help of a god, he failed. You stopped the war, made peace between Har and Dahomey, healed the Amazon nation, bore the anger of a god. And you got your woman back. Where has he done a thing that keeps you angry at him?"
The Nubian walked to Xena's side, and put his hand on her back. He felt her tremble, as a race horse trembles, before a long run. "I loved you for your savagery, Ghoul. I had never seen the like. I think now, having seen you bear Oya's anger with such strength, then come back through the pain to bear the wife of Nzinga, that anger is completed for me. I have seen the best example of it, and I have seen how it can be won through. That lesson is done. Your woman completes you, great killer. You are more than anger with her. I think that is the next lesson." Geb stepped away from the bound figure on the ground, not even looking back. "Come to the fire circle, hero. There is a celebration going on. Your woman awaits."
The Nubian walked away from the warrior, back toward the camp of the Amazons.
Xena stood over the Syrian, her fingers flexing. She leaned down close to him, blotting out the stars, a deeper darkness then the night sky above the grassland.
"I could kill you." She hissed in Persian. She contemplated that fear she saw on his face, enjoying it for a moment. She looked at her fingers, strong as steel, able to snap his neck like a twig. It would be easy, one quick flick of the wrist, and he would be dead. But then what? She would have to go back to Gabrielle, and with that same hand, caress her lover. With the hand that slew an unarmed man, bound hand and foot, who had caused her no permanent damage. Xena shook her head.
"But I have a wedding to attend."
She turned her back on the bound Syrian, who had fainted dead away. She waited until she was several paces away from the Amazon's tent circle, before she spoke.
"You heard all of it?" She asked, to the night behind her. Gabrielle's hand closed around her waist.
"I heard enough." The bard admitted.
"You left me alone with it." Xena said, her voice breaking.
"I let you make the choice. I'm proud of the one you made." Gabrielle said, touching her lover's face.
"They can have anything from me but that part, the part that you love." Xena said, in a whisper.
"I love all of you. Not just a part." The bard said, sliding her arms around her lover's neck. Xena raised one black brow.
"So you haven't changed your mind."
"When we get back to Greece, you ask me again. We'll see." Gabrielle said, lightly.
Xena leaned down and kissed her with a passion that left her gasping. "I will." Xena took Gabrielle's hand. "Come on. I hear there are some songs about us that we have to live up to."
The hero and the Queen walked, hand in hand, back into the fire circle of the royal family of Dahomey. The dancing had begun. Somewhere out in the night, a Spider danced to the music of the drums. The gates to the cemetery swung shut. The watching figure turned away, leaving the night to celebration of the nation.
The End