Part Six
Mekere returned home to find his wife and servants in the hallway looking in on the center court. There all his children gathered, listening raptly to the small Greek woman. She sprang from a crouch, arms held wide, and all the children jumped, squealing in delight. He put his arm across his wife's shoulders, and drew her in.
She slipped an arm around his waist, looking for signs of battle fatigue on his face. "The trouble is completed?" She asked him, in a whisper.
"It is well. Two bands of raiders fought one another, the winner is led by a friend. You remember Geb, an acrobat of Ptolemy's court?" Mekere said, indicating the Nubian dwarf who stood so colorfully at his side.
His wife gasped at the fierce aspect of the dwarf, clad in raider's robes, belt alive with knife hilts. But the savage mien was belied by the way the dwarf essayed a bow, in a manner that bespoke a gentleman's training. "My pleasure at meeting you is matched only by my recognition of your beauty, lady. Mekere is indeed favored of the gods."
Mekere watched the Greek woman jump around, shouting in her incomprehensible language. The dark skinned girl at her feet translated into awkward Egyptian. Apparently they were telling his children stories about some Greek hero battling monsters. The children understood some of what was being said to them, but enjoyed the performance of the Greek woman immensely, giggling at every move she made.
Geb waited politely, as befit a courtier from the house of Pharaoh. He understood how much stock the Egyptians placed in their family life, how they enjoyed their children, so he watched along with Mekere and his wife. "Your children do you credit, Mekere." He said, in wonderfully round tones.
The Egyptian beamed at him. "They are my chief joy, behind only my wife, former servant of Pharaoh."
"This storyteller, she is a house slave perhaps?" Geb asked, something about the oddness of the scene touching him. The fair woman and the dark girl worked as a team, telling stories to the children of an Egyptian scribe. Mekere shook his head. "Guests of mine, they saved my uncle's tomb from graverobbers just this morning. I don't understand what they were doing in the valley, the fair one doesn't speak Egyptian, and the girl's Egyptian is passable, but no more." Mekere turned away from the court. "Come, we will eat, the children have been well entertained. Beloved, bring our guests, perhaps Geb can make more sense of them than we have."
Gabrielle and Tanit followed the gently insisting Egyptian woman. "She wants us to eat." Tanit said, understanding that much. They were led to the dining chamber where their host sat, clad in his linen kilt and pectoral, at a low wooden table. Next to him sat a Nubian dwarf in Bedouin robes, a brilliant smile illuminating his face, gold earrings bobbing as he threw back his head. He was as bald as the Egyptian, and both heads bent together, sharing some jest. They looked up as the women came in.
Mekere held out his hand. The dwarf rose and sketched a bow. His mahogany eyes passed Mekere's wife, and took in Gabrielle. Red gold hair, small stature, green eyes, and if he wasn't wrong, Greek. He felt his blood congeal in his veins. His smile faltered, his eyes went wide in shock. It was the Ghoul's woman, it had to be. The one she now searched for, in a fit of madness, among the tombs. What in the name of Fortune was she doing here, in Mekere's house, alive?
The manners of Pharaoh's court came to his rescue, while his seething brain recovered. "I am Geb of Nubia, late of Kemet, now of the Red Land." He said in Egyptian.
The dark girl next to the Greek seemed to understand him. He looked more closely at her, and again felt shock bleed him dry. The girl was an Amazon, tall and handsome, even leaning on her walking stick. She wore the armband of Nzinga's house, any man on the desert would recognized it. He turned immediately to Mekere. "Forgive me, Mekere, for interrupting what surely would be a most pleasant meal, but I believe I have information that will change many things quite quickly. The girl, does she follow the Egyptian of the court?" He asked, in that very stilted dialect. Mekere assured him that she did not, she spoke the common dialect of Upper Egypt. "Good. Have you heard that Dahomey marches to war against Egypt?" Mekere allowed that he had, but hadn't heard much more about it. "Allow me, in my sorrow, to bring more knowledge to you. Nzinga, the Lioness of Dahomey, has seized Sekhmet, to the south. She will slay every living thing within those walls, if she has not already. She seeks the return of her daughter, who rumor has it as kidnapped by an Egyptian lord, to be kept as a pleasure slave."
Mekere's face fell apart. "You mean that-"
"Your guest is the daughter of Nzinga. And she will rend every inch of ground between Sekhmet and here, if she finds out you have her."
Mekere looked quite ready to faint.
Geb held up a hand, still maintaining the courtly Egyptian. "I think I have a way that might avert disaster on all sides. The companion of the girl may well be the key. Would you allow me to try a certain thing? If I am correct, there is someone who could get the girl to Nzinga, before Egypt is torn asunder. But the one I think of needs a reason to live."
"Do whatever might be best, Geb, servant of Pharaoh. I and my family are at your disposal." Mekere said.
Geb returned his attention to the Greek woman and the Amazon girl. "Forgive me. Your appearance has quite startled me. Tell me, do you speak any Egyptian?" He asked, in the dialect of Upper Egypt. Tanit affirmed that she did. "Glorious. I have great news for you, if you are in fact the daughter of Nzinga of Dahomey."
Tanit touched the golden lioness on her arm. "I am Tanit, daughter of Nzinga, Queen of Dahomey."
Gabrielle waited in impatience, not understanding the flurry of Egyptian that flowed around her. First the dwarf spoke rapidly to their host, then to Tanit, who grew very excited. She finally couldn't stand it. "Tanit, what is going on here!" Gabrielle asked.
"This is Geb, he's the chieftain of a band of raiders. He says that Dahomey had gone to war against Egypt, my mother thinks I've been kidnapped!" Tanit said, full of pride that her mother loved her enough to bring the entire army to come get her. She hadn't thought about the bloodshed that might come from it, but the look on Gabrielle's face sobered her. "Nzinga's taken a town called Sekhmet. She wants me back, or she's going to start burning it down."
"We have to get you there, fast. Gods, if only Xena were here-" She said.
The dwarf looked at her with unfathomable mahogany eyes. He seemed to be weighing her, judging her, against some image in his mind. His scrutiny was so through and so personal that Gabrielle felt the urge to back away. Instead she squared her shoulders and met his gaze with green eyes cool as stones. He smiled at this, just a bit, and said something in Egyptian to Tanit that made the girl go numb with shock. "Tanit, what is it? What did he say to you?" Gabrielle asked, concerned at the abrupt change in her friend.
"He said he knows where Xena is." Tanit said, in a low voice.
The bard's fingers closed on Geb's shoulders. "Tell me where she is! Is she all right?" Gabrielle asked him directly.
He looked oddly pleased at her loss of control, and smiled hugely. "He says she's with his men, in the yellow valley. She seeks the body of her lover." Tanit translated. The Amazon girl felt her heart crash to the ground. The Greek hero lived. Gabrielle was lost to her, now.
"I have to go to her." Gabrielle said, springing up.
Geb spoke to Mekere, who gave him what he asked. In a whirlwind of movement, Gabrielle was gone, Geb with her, and Tanit was left leaning on her walking stick, her heart bleeding into the air.
The dwarf raider smiled like a demon at her from the back of his tall Persian mount. He had a horse brought for her, Hardanes' mount, and motioned for her to climb into the saddle. Geb had considered letting Aram or Hardanes take the Greek storyteller to the Ghoul, but decided that he wanted to witness this resurrection. It didn't matter that she didn't speak Egyptian, or Persian, or even the Bedouin lingua franca. He could read her every thought, plain as temple carvings on her face. She was calmer than the Ghoul, but just as mad. She clearly didn't know much about riding, but she clung to the saddle with a will, galloping across the darkened plain of sand.
Gabrielle didn't ask anything of the dwarf chieftain. She let him have his private amusement. Her mind was in a suspended state, learning that Xena was near had made her heart pound out of her chest. Her body ached to feel her lover pressed against her, to let her blood join into the accustomed rhythm of it's other half. Xena thought she was dead. Gabrielle choked back a sob at the thought of it, at what Xena must be suffering.
The valley looked different tonight. Gabrielle was vaguely aware of the stench of slaughter, of the dim bulk of bodies dragged off to the fringes of the camp for the jackals to tear at. Geb's raiders had set their tents at the valley mouth, their camp fires distant sparks against the blackness, like earth bound stars. Geb pulled up his horse and gestured toward the cliffs.
Gabrielle nodded, understanding. Xena was out there, looking for her body among the tombs. She urged her horse forward, over the rocky field. The horse stumbled, righted itself, then slipped again. Gabrielle dismounted, picking her way between the cut stones on foot. She wished she had brought a torch, but the light of the moon was enough to see by.
"Xena!" She called out, breaking into a run. She felt her before she saw her, the silhouette dark as the stones, tall and singular, in the mouth of a cave tomb.
"Gabrielle?" The voice was as rough as the scraping of steel on gravestones, disbelieving. The warrior believed that grief had finally driven her mad. She heard the bard call her name. That couldn't be, Gabrielle was dead.
The bard froze between two rocks, letting the moonlight hit her, letting it describe her to the grief-bowed silhouette before her. The fact that Xena did not approach her made her fear acute. What had her warrior been through? "Xena? Xena, it's me. I'm not dead."
Xena stepped out of the tomb, called forth by Gabrielle's voice. The moonlight hit her, and the bard's heart cracked. She looked like a shadow of herself, hollow with grief, bled dry of her wolfish vitality. The moonlight showed dull on raven hair, on the blood, dust and weariness that seemed incised into the planes of her face. "Oh, Xena-"
The ravaged warrior took a step, then faltered. She fell to her knees, striking the stones on the valley floor with a clap like thunder. Her body gave out, unable to bear her up any longer. Gabrielle covered the distance between them. Xena, on her knees, clasped Gabrielle's waist in her strong arms, hanging off the bard's hips like iron chains. She buried her dark head against the bard's stomach and wept, bitterly.
Gabrielle felt her eyes spill with tears at the sound of the warrior's grieving. She tangled her hands in the thick black hair, kissing the top of her head, crooning reassurances that she was in fact there, not a ghost of the warrior's tortured grief. "I'm here, love. I'll never leave you. Never."
She waited until the storm of grief abated, then drew Xena up, wrapping her in a firm embrace. They stood locked together, wordless, letting their bodies regain contact, letting that contact heal them. Gabrielle finally pulled back, holding Xena's face in her hands. "You haven't been taking care of yourself." She said, gently. It was an understatement. Xena looked like a map drawn in blood, fresh wounds, old wounds creasing her skin. The haunted look in her eyes was starting to fade, the warmth of Gabrielle's skin convincing her that she lived, that there was hope for both of them.
"I thought you were dead." Xena said, her voice rough.
"That's no excuse." Gabrielle said, glad to see some life returning to those blue eyes.
"Seemed like a good one at the time. You look good. How've you been keeping yourself?" Xena asked.
"Oh, you know. Egyptian nobleman's house, in the company of an Amazon kid, the usual."
She felt Xena's large hand caress the side of her face. "Did you miss me?" The warrior asked, still needing reassurance from her.
The bard answered her in the only way she could, grabbing her and kissing her like the world was ending. She felt her soul shake loose at the contact of their lips, and gladly surrendered to it. When Gabrielle pulled back, she could see the spark of vitality back in Xena's eyes. "Does that answer your question?" Gabrielle asked, tucking her head into the warrior's shoulder.
"No. But if that's the response I get, I'll keep asking all night."
Geb watched them from the back of his tall horse. The black haired Greek fell apart when she saw her woman, but was soon standing, embracing her. They spoke in low voices, he could imagine what they said. At last they walked toward him, both moving gingerly, keeping their bodies in contact. The Ghoul kept her little blond tucked firmly under her arm, and in turn, the small Greek kept a possessive clasp around the warrior's waist. Geb saw that life was working its way back into the Ghoul's features. Even in the moonlight he could see some color in her face, see the snap of her eyes returning. She proved of interest to him yet. He smiled in greeting. "My gift to you, great killer. Life from the tombs of Kemet."
"Gabrielle filled me in on what's been happening. Let's get back to your Egyptian friend's place and get this sorted out."
She sounded like Geb had never heard her, masterful, in control, her mind working on great problems. Something about the woman tucked under her arm healed her, anchored her, freed up the part of her that was capable of greatness. She was no longer simply a brilliant killer, fired with rage, charging madly across the sands. This was a conqueror, a hero. Interesting, Geb thought. Her woman did complete her. Geb whistled, and Hardanes horse came trotting up.
Xena swung up into the saddle and helped Gabrielle mount in front of her. The bard leaned back against her warrior, and felt the strong arms tighten around her. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of peace that came with the embrace. It didn't make any sense, they were in the saddle of a raider, they had to gallop across the wasteland to try and avert a war, but she felt peaceful. Xena nuzzled into her hair, nipping at her ear, drawing a grin from the bard.
"I can see that you missed me. I thought warriors were hard and stoic."
"Only in the face of death, pain, destruction, fire, floods, that sort of thing. Gabrielle, I thought I lost you. I..." Xena's voice broke. She felt Gabrielle's hand close on hers.
"You didn't. We'll talk about this, at length. I have to give you Hades for the way you've been treating yourself." She could feel Xena's smile, pressed into the back of her neck as the horse galloped across the nighted sand, the Nubian dwarf ahead of them.
A Gathering of Amazons
Mekere met them at the gates to his house, wonder on his face when Geb pulled up his Persian stallion, gesturing to Hardanes' mount. A tall, pale eyed Greek woman in armor rode double with his blond guest, her long arms encircling the storyteller. Mekere had heard tales of Geb's new second, the Ghoul, and with a twitch of fear knew he looked right at her now. What was Geb thinking, bringing this uncivilized berserker into his house?
"Mekere, I present she who the tribes of the wasteland called the Ghoul, our hope of salvation."
Xena frowned at him. "Don't scare the man, Geb. My name is Xena. I hear you have a problem with some Amazons."
Tanit heard the chaos of horses arriving, the babble of voices in Persian and Egyptian and Greek, the servants running into the chamber to prepare for the new guest. Food was brought, and wine, hastily. Voices grew louder, approaching the chamber, the tread of sandals and boots. She wanted to look away, to run, but her leg wound kept her captive. Mekere came in first, wringing his hands, his eyes darting about the chamber at the food, the wine, resting finally on his wife. He seemed to draw some strength from seeing her, and so settled his shoulders. Geb entered next, laughing with delight at the prospect of violent action.
He could hear the wings of vultures whenever he looked at the Ghoul, and it soothed something in his heart. Gabrielle was right behind him, asking an uncomprehending servant for water and clean cloths. Geb translated for her, enjoying the game. Then, she entered. Tanit had heard many stories of the Greek hero, all told from Gabrielle's loving perspective. Even knowing that the bard was in love with the hero, and so biased, she expected to see something remarkable walk through the door, an aura of lightning perhaps, a rumble like drums or thunder, a shinning glory like the sun surrounding the greatest fighter who ever lived.
Tanit dropped her walking stick to the pillows next to her. She was tall, for a Greek, but would be only of average height in Dahomey. There was no aura of glory. Her hair was black and thick, like the mane of a horse, and hung down tangled in her eyes. Her face was cut into sharp planes, masked with dried blood and road dust, and her armor was covered in gore, torn and splashed with crimson. The sword across her back looked well and recently used. The scent of sweat, carnage and horses clung to her, mingling with the smell of leather. Around her eyes the shadows on her pale skin were deep, as if she hadn't rested in weeks, the eyes themselves oddly sane and clear in the madness of her face. She looked like a warrior after a battle, a sight intimately familiar to Tanit. She was a mortal, where Tanit had expected a god. What was it about her that made the men circle round her, hang on her every word? Mekere looked ready to faint when she spoke to him, even Geb, chieftain of fierce desert raiders, gave her deference, nodded at her words, and kept his own amused council.
Then there was Gabrielle. As the Greek hero spoke and strategized with the men, the Amazon Queen made her sit and remove her armor. She proceeded to wash the blood and dust from her limbs as Xena talked. Tanit could see her face clearly as the bard worked, tears welling up in the green eyes as she beheld the wounds crisscrossing the warrior's frame. The bandage that held her ribs was caked with old blood and spotted with new. She ignored Xena's strategizing and took a dagger from the warrior's armor, slashing the bandage away. She rebound the ribs with new cloth, tapping Xena to get her to raise her arms. Xena's wounds were bound quickly, efficiently, by the bard's gentle hands, both of them acting as if this were an old ritual, and need not distract from the important business being discussed.
Tanit was mesmerized by the way the bard's hands repaired the rent and bruised flesh, managing to seem loving and practical at the same time. Xena seemed oblivious to the ministration, until Gabrielle's hands came to rest on her broad shoulders. Then the warrior reached up and covered one small hand with hers, the gesture speaking of an intimacy that connected them, even in a war council.
Gabrielle sat down cross-legged next to Xena, her hand resting on the warrior's thigh. Xena paused in questioning Geb to give the bard a look of such explicit devotion that it made Tanit want the floor to swallow her, and spare her this pain. Then the Greek hero reached out her arm and gathered Gabrielle into her side. The bard didn't protest being hauled about like a pet, Tanit thought with disgust. She seemed to enjoy it, curling into the warrior's shoulder, as if she never wanted to leave that spot. She gave the warrior a look that burned the air, and Tanit had to look away. She focused on what they were saying, welcoming any distraction.
"Send your seconds to Sekhmet to stall Nzinga. No, don't sent the whole band, that will be an act of war. Send only Aram and Hardanes. Tell her that you accede to her demands, that you have her daughter and will be bringing her. We want to parlay. That will keep her from slaughtering the town until we get there." The Greek hero's voice was deep, a rumble under it, like Hevioso's thunder. She exuded a confidence that Tanit hated to recognize. This beat up old fighter was the consort of Gabrielle, Queen of the Amazons? She had the gall to expect the Queen to bind her wounds in front of men as she spoke? Tanit sulked in the corner, forgotten. Any spearwoman of Dahomey, she thought, could best this wounded Greek in single combat. She had no idea what Gabrielle saw in her.
"Why not tell her that it's all a big misunderstanding?" Gabrielle asked.
Xena shook her head. "Too late for that, if the army has already taken a town. The Amazons have already committed themselves to a war, already invaded another nation. They can't back down now. The loss of face wouldn't be borne. Besides, Nzinga wouldn't believe it. She'd raze the town, and come to us." Xena said.
Tanit looked up, right into the cold blue eyes regarding her. Gabrielle smacked herself on the forehead. "I'm so bad at introductions. Tanit, this is Xena. Xena, Tanit." The bard's sweet voice filled the silence where mahogany eyes met blue, young warrior and seasoned observed one another.
"Do you have a clan sigil, a totem or symbol?" The warrior said to her.
Tanit touched her armband. "Only Nzinga's family wear these."
The Greek warrior walked over to her, dropping into a crouch. She extended one brawny arm, hand open. "Gabrielle told me what you did. How you saved her. That wound was bravely gotten. Thank you."
Tanit took the forearm and returned the clasp, warmed by the praise, by Gabrielle having mentioned her. Up close, the pale eyes were unnerving, like staring into the eyes of a panther. "We need to send something to your mother to convince her you are with us." Xena said gently, knowing that it might be against custom to remove the royal symbol.
Tanit hesitated, then glanced at Gabrielle. "Bloodshed should be avoided." She said, removing the running lioness and dropped it into Xena's hand.
The war council broke up, with Geb instructing his seconds to Sekhmet with Tanit's armband. Xena, Gabrielle and Tanit would leave in the morning with Geb, escorted by his raiders. Xena suggested leaving at the same time as Aram and Hardanes, but Gabrielle adamantly refused. She countermanded the order, in front of everyone.
"Absolutely not. You need food and rest. You are not going to ride all night, then collapse at Sekhmet."
This set Geb to chuckling, then laughing aloud. The Ghoul, chastised by her woman, ducked her head, grinning sheepishly. The Greek hero seemed oddly pleased at the reprimand, even proud of it, Geb thought.
Mekere's house was crowded that night. Aram and Hardanes set out, leaving Geb, Tanit, Gabrielle and Xena to frighten Mekere's servants and tax his wife's patience. She told the women, through Geb's translation, that she would have blankets and pallets brought into the main chamber for them.
The dwarf chieftain accepted an alcove of his own. He knew that his status as a favorite of the last Pharaoh ranked significantly higher with the Egyptians than did the Amazon's rank. The presence of his murderous Ghoul had Mekere quite on edge, even with the civilizing influence of her woman. She seemed, Geb thought, to be quite tamed, following the blond Greek around like a puppy. When the bard insisted that they take a walk together before retiring, she agreed without protest, following her out the door. How odd, the dwarf thought, are Fortune's ways.
They walked along the quiet street outside Mekere's house, toward his stables. The moonlight was bright enough to read by, flooding the flat landscape. The quiet was accented by the occasional snort of a horse in its stall. A broken mud brick wall stood in the stable yard, Gabrielle paused and sat on its rim. She faced Xena, arms folded. The warrior stood against the waning moon, the light glinting on her dark hair, bringing out lights of blue. Her expression was set, still, mournful, exactly like a child who knows that she is about to be reprimanded. Gabrielle had to remind herself not to grab her and kiss her.
"You going to give me Hades now?" Xena asked, in a sullen voice.
The bard sighed. She took Xena's callused hand in both of hers, kissing the palm. "Yes. You look terrible."
"Thanks. You washed off the blood." Xena said, defensively.
"The first layer of it. You've been fighting and running for weeks, from the look of you. You haven't been eating. You haven't slept. Even you can't keep doing this to yourself, Xena." Gabrielle said.
Xena tossed her head, like a horse fighting the bit. "Gabrielle, I thought you were dead! How am I supposed to live with that?"
"Exactly. I've been kidnapped before, and you never reacted quite this way." Gabrielle said, tugging on Xena's hand. "Come on, look at me."
The blue eyes were baleful in the shadow of Xena's face. "You were never my lover before."
Gabrielle patted the wall next to her, and Xena sat down. "When I was in that wagon, and I didn't know what had happened, I thought that you might be dead. It nearly killed me. It brought back the memory of being in the Amazon village, after..." Gabrielle's voice quavered, then steadied.
Xena's hand tightened on hers, instantly protective. "I told you that I'll always be here, Gabrielle." Her voice was low, soothing, a sound that made the bard's heart leap in response.
"I know. That's what calmed me. I knew that you couldn't be dead, because I'd know. I'd feel it." Gabrielle said, touching Xena's chest. "What scares me is that you thought I was dead. You accepted that so easily, and went tearing around like a madwoman. I talked to Geb, about the battle. He said you threw yourself into it like you wanted to die." She risked a look into Xena's face, gone still as a mask.
"I did." She admitted.
"I can't live like that, Xena. It's not enough anymore that you won't become a monster. I need to know that you'll take care of yourself." Gabrielle said, looking into the warrior's face. What she saw there surprised her. There was a look of peace, of perfect calm and resolve on the carved planes of Xena's face.
"I love you, Gabrielle. You are the best part of me. And when you cross over, I'll be right beside you."
"I understand. But what if I'm not dead, and you go off on a suicide mission? If you had died in that battle, can you imagine what it would have been like for me, hearing that you were within my reach, but died before I could get to you? That you didn't believe in me enough to stay." The look of horror on Xena's face was complete. Gabrielle didn't let up. "You've told me that you'll always be here, and I believe that. Now you have to believe me. I'm not leaving you Xena, not even in death. When the time comes, we'll be together on the other side. " The bard took the warrior's face in her hands, the gentle green eyes searing into the volcanic blue.
Xena dropped her eyes, unable to meet Gabrielle's gaze. It was too much, what the bard said to her, she felt her heart immediately shutting down. No one could love her like that, not the bloody handed warlord that she had been, not the dark-souled fighter she was. Her crimes were too great, they unbalanced the scale.
The love of one woman could not ransom her from the pit.
"Xena, look at me. I know it's hard. You think that everyone who loves you, leaves."
The warrior looked away, out at the stable yard, at the swept earth of the square. She felt as empty as the wasteland that stretched away under the moon. "They don't leave, Gabrielle. They die. I'm not loved by the gods. I haven't earned what you want to give to me."
Gabrielle sighed. She dropped Xena's hand and stood up, brushing brick dust off her skirt. "Okay, we tried gentle. Now listen to me, you thick skilled, self absorbed, moody, destructive, sullen child! I am not offering you any gift or prize for being a good reformed warlord. I am informing you of what you already have. For whatever reason, the Fates, or the Gods, or blind stupid luck saw fit to make me fall in love with you the moment I saw you. My soul looked at you and knew you, Xena. You're my other half. And if you persist in trying to destroy yourself, you destroy me along with you. You got that?"
Xena sat open mouthed at the sight of Gabrielle raging at her. The bard stood, hands on hips, glaring at her. The warrior blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. I got that."
"Good! No more trying to die on me. No more doubting me. No more treating yourself like offal. And you better bloody well stop denying my love, or I'll have to knock you around the stable yard until your thick warrior skull rings like a bell." Gabrielle stood, breathing heavily, green eyes snapping with anger.
Xena held up her hands in surrender. "Okay."
"Okay?" Gabrielle asked, not expecting that answer and thrown by it.
Xena stood and put her hands on the bard's shoulders. "I believe you."
The dark head bent down and claimed the bard's lips, a seal on the testament of her faith. When she pulled away, Gabrielle took the leather-clad waist in her hands, pulling her a little closer. "Are you done giving me Hades?" Xena asked, resting her chin on the top of the bard's head. Gabrielle murmured an affirmative, and burrowed into the warrior's neck. "Good. We both need to get some sleep. We have a war to stop tomorrow."
They set out for Sekhmet at first light, much to the relief of Mekere and his wife, to the disappointment of their children. The new guests interested them greatly, and they wanted a chance to examine them before they rode off. They crowded in the stable yard, eyeing Geb on his tall horse. He looked solemnly at them, then did a backflip to the ground. With a bored look on his face he plucked a dagger from his belt, hurled it straight up into the air, then leapt after it. He caught it mid-air, turned neatly, and landed back in his saddle. When the adults came out for their farewells, they found a silent Geb gazing off at the wasteland, children clutching at his stirrups. He shrugged to Xena's raised eyebrow, and looked back to the road.
Xena rode point, with Gabrielle and Tanit fanned out behind her. Geb brought up the rear, followed by his raiders. They rode as nomads ride, full out, horses straining against their leather harness, trying to rejoin the wind. Gabrielle thought that two years on the road with Xena had improved her relationship with horses, but they were not bosom friends. She did her best to hold on and not complain, but watching Xena didn't help. The warrior was in bliss, moving like she was born in the saddle, whooping to her desert bred mount, urging it on. She looked like a youth out on a lark, not a hero off to avert a bloody conflict. Part of Xena came alive under circumstances most mortals would find daunting.
By nightfall they were two thirds of the way, according to Geb. The motion of the horse had long ago dulled Gabrielle into a trance state, and its abrupt halt jerked her awareness back. One moment they were hurtling down the hard packed road, the next they were stock-still. The raiders had their mounts hobbled and fires going by the time
Gabrielle climbed from the saddle, weary muscles complaining. One foot caught in the stirrup, and she unbalanced herself by yanking it out. Strong hands caught her before she fell, and lifted her into the air.
"I've got you." Xena said, grinning.
Gabrielle put an arm around the warrior's shoulder automatically. "You can put me down now, you know. Unless you feel like showing off." The sudden gleam in Xena's eyes made Gabrielle regret saying it.
Xena kept her aloft, holding her as lightly as a child, and strode through the camp the raiders had set. "Geb!" She bellowed, ignoring Gabrielle's pummeling.
The dwarf chieftain sat at the central fire, wineskin in hand. Tanit sat with him, easing her leg out after the long ride. She looked up at the Greek hero, hauling Gabrielle about like a slain deer, and grimaced. There was no dignity in the Greek savage, no recognition of Gabrielle's rank. Tanit felt offended, on the Queen's behalf. Gabrielle smote Xena on the shoulder, and hissed at her to put her down. The warrior roundly ignored her.
"Have you a tent for me?" She asked the Nubian, meeting his broad grin with her own smirk.
"Of course, Ghoul. It is set next to mine."
"See you in the morning." Xena said, striding off in the direction of the tents. Gabrielle's outraged protests drifted back over the warrior's shoulder.
Geb nodded goodnight to the Ghoul's back. The change that had come over the Greek hero in the past day was almost beyond belief. When he had first saved her from dying on the desert, Geb had loved her primal ferocity, the savagery that showed in every move, every gesture. He had thought her a splendid animal, exotic and deadly. He'd entertained dreams of harnessing her, as a lion might be harnessed, then loosing her to decimate his foes. She had been a great killer, but had displayed nothing else, no intelligence, no soul. Now, in the span of a day, she had become herself again, with the reunion of opposites- the small blond woman bringing her wholeness. Geb had to relearn the Ghoul again, to see her for the first time. Her mind was quick, brilliant, she issued orders and his own men jumped to fill them.
Command was in her blood. This was a conqueror, a general, a hero. He could not make this woman his second- she was his better. He found himself glad to serve under her, something that had not happened since he'd become a raider, since he had become a free man. Geb thought he understood the change, at least externally. The Greek had her soul back. For the first time, Geb could see the value in such a bonding. The loss of it had left her bereft, mad and bloody, but the presence of it made her great. She rode to stop a war, and none with her ever questioned she could do exactly that, so vast was her confidence that infected them all.
Geb took a pull on the wineskin, enjoying the night. From the corner of his mahogany eye he could see the Amazon girl, the cause of all this madness, sitting dejected, staring into the fire. The dwarf chieftain focused on her, curious. All else who rode with them were high spirited tonight, catching their mood from the Ghoul. He had heard that she'd gotten her first kill in saving the Ghouls' woman, and was now a warrior of Dahomey, able to take the spear. Yet she looked like death had claimed her entire family, pets and all.
The demon that lived in Geb's heart awoke, and he indulged it. He passed the wineskin to Tanit, startling her out of her examination of the flames. Her face looked red in the firelight, red masking over deep brown, much like his. Fire glinted on the gold of his earrings, on the salt white of his teeth. "Magnificent, is she not? " He asked.
She took the wineskin casually, so casually that Geb knew she'd never had wine. "Xena?" She asked, imitating the dwarf's movements with the skin. Red wine splashed into her throat, she fought the urge to choke.
"Ah, the Ghoul is truly magnificent. But I spoke of her woman. Gabrielle. Such a show of strength, to command the Ghoul about as she does. And to have the Ghoul listen! Amazing." Geb noted the girl's shrug, as she handed the wineskin back.
"Xena should listen to Gabrielle. She is a Queen, Xena's only a fighter." Tanit said, glancing off in the direction Xena had carried Gabrielle.
Geb's chuckle brought her back to the dwarf. "Only a fighter. She is the greatest fighter who ever walked the earth, I think. And she is something more, that I only begin to see now that her woman is back with her. Destiny rides with them."
The wineskin passed back and forth. Tanit noticed that somewhere her leg had stopped hurting, and even the pain in her chest, associated with Xena carrying Gabrielle off to the tent, had loosened. The Nubian dwarf was interesting to talk to, if oddly amused by everything.
"Why do you keep calling her the Ghoul?" She finally asked, when the dwarf handed her a fresh wineskin.
"When I saved her from the desert, she was a sight from a charnel yard. Bloodied, flesh hanging in strips, armor hacked and dented, ribs cracked, one eye shut from the wound in her head. I could hear the vultures gathering for her, I could hear the Lady Death whispering her name. Yet she stood up, and drew steel on me, half dead as she was. My men gave her the name. It suits her, I think."
Tanit squinted at the fire. "She's not so tall. Gabrielle described her as ten feet tall and made of bronze. She's just average. I'd be that tall, when I'm grown."
Geb took a long pull on the wine, giving the girl a measured look. "Perhaps you will." He said, in a quiet voice. The Amazon girl looked at him, taking in his short, powerful limbs, the ease with which he stretched before the fire, the collection of knives in his belt.
"You are a warrior. Does it ever bother you, your size?" She asked him, frankly.
The dwarf was silent for a moment, appearing to study the fire. He lifted his left hand in a curious gesture, in a moment one of the guards from the fringes of the firelight was at his side.
"Chieftain."
"Change the guard, give the men their ration of wine." Geb said. The raider touched the hilt of his scimitar, then vanished beyond the firelight. Geb looked into Tanit's eyes. "My horse is my legs, my men are my arms. They follow me because they know I can lead them." He took the skin, sending a stream of red into his mouth. He wiped the back of his hand across his face. "They know, because I know."
They reached the outskirts of Sekhmet just after dawn. The village was mud brick and limestone wash, surrounded by fields watered from the Nile in a series of ingenious canals. Camped around the village was the army of the Amazons of Dahomey. The ring of fires and hide tents swallowed the mud brick town like snake devouring a mole. They could see it rise before them on the horizon, the splendor of the martial nation of Dahomey.
Gabrielle drew level with Xena, whispering in awe. "I never imagined so many Amazons in one place. This makes Melossa's tribe look like a family reunion."
"Dahomey is an entire nation, many tribes. And it looks like all of them are camped out in front of us, waiting to get Nzinga's daughter back." Xena said, looking over the thousands of tents. If they failed, Egypt would be a red ruin between Nubia and Thebes before the Pharaoh in Alexandria could get an army down the Nile. She raised her voice, including Geb and Tanit in the conversation. "We're ready to make the approach. If Aram and Hardanes convinced Nzinga to parlay, we will be able to meet with her. If not, we'll end up on the business end of those famed spears."
"How do we know if they succeeded?" Gabrielle asked.
"If we are not dead the moment we are seen, they succeeded." Geb answered her, with a trace of humor.
"Remember what I told you. Ride tall. Don't talk to anyone. Follow my lead. Gabrielle, keep Tanit next to you. If anything happens, she should be able to keep you safe."
"If anything happens, I'm right beside you." Gabrielle said to Xena, daring her to contradict. In answer the warrior reached out and took her hand, holding it in silence.
From the city of tents a company of spearwomen marched, double ranked, toward them. Sunlight glinted on the long steel blades, on the white and yellow of their bullhide shields, on the ostrich feathers and cowry shells of their ornaments. Gold and ivory circlets clicked on wrists and ankles. They were the flower of Dahomey, tall, fierce, beautiful, black as basalt in the new sun, proud as lions in their strength.
Xena kicked her horse into a walk, riding out to meet them. Gabrielle's heart skipped a beat when the spear all leveled, pointed at her lover. Xena indicated her party with the sweep of an arm, the ranks of Amazons parted. Xena motioned to Geb, he urged Tanit and Gabrielle to follow him. They rode up to Xena, in the center of the Amazons. "They'll give us escort to Nzinga." Xena said, turning her horse's head.
It was like a parade, Gabrielle thought, the slow clop of the horses moving at a walk, surrounded on all sides by the Amazons, hedged in by spears. Tanit worked to keep silent, to look calm, as Xena had warned her. The escort was a sea around them, obscuring the road, giving glimpses of the camp through the points of spears. Gabrielle understood why Xena had insisted they stay mounted. The average height of the Amazons was over six feet. If they had walked, they'd have disappeared into the crowd. On horseback, they could make an impression. She cast glance at her lover, glad to see that even in the midst of this display of martial beauty, Xena stood out, her air of command visible. Her back was straight, her shoulders set firm, but she rode with deceptive ease. Her face was set in her warlord's mask, cool, arrogant, unaffected by the pomp and military might displayed before her. She might have been a conqueror, reviewing the troops of her new nation.
In the center of camp the Amazons stopped, the horses stopped with them. The hide tent was large, the sides rolled up and tied back, open to the air. As one, the Amazons dropped down to one knee, and waited. Gabrielle saw Tanit quicken, and looked to see what had the girl so excited.
Nzinga, Queen of the Amazons of Dahomey stalked forward between ranks of kneeling spearwomen. She was tall, taller than Xena, Gabrielle saw, gorgeous and strange in her doeskin kilt and vest, in the collar of leather and cowry shells. Armbands of red gold, the royal lioness symbol adorned her biceps, and the bard thought the image appropriate. Her face was extraordinary, that of an unquestioned leader, full of knowledge and authority. Her hair was bound in elaborate braids, tied off with leather strips and cowry shells, arrayed like the mane of a lion over her powerful shoulders. She was leaner than the Greek hero, lithe and sinewy where Xena was muscled, and gave the impression of whipcord strength. Had she been naked among the thousands of her troops, Gabrielle would have known her to be the Queen. She had the same eyes as Tanit, the bard saw, mahogany in the basalt of her face. On her left arm rode an oblong shield of zebra hide, in her right hand was the spear of a warrior.
Continued in Part 7.