‘The Haunted Ship’

By Phineas Redux

 

—OOO—

Summary:— Xena and Gabrielle investigate rumours of a haunted pentekonter in the Greek Navy fleet at Thessalonika.

Note 01:— 8 stadia= 1.4 km (1,617 yd)= 1 Roman mile. Although stadia are mentioned at the start, units of length from then on are in feet and yards to escape confusion because of the unfamiliar original Ancient Greek names for such. I also know the concept of hours was not known to the Ancient Greeks, but in the interests of clarity I have used this modern notation of time, too.

Note 02:— There was no Classical Greek Festival representing our modern Halloween, so I have simply invented an unnamed one; also I use modern terminology for month names, as the Classical Greek terms for months in Xena’s and Gabrielle’s day would be meaningless to us today, and didn’t exactly correspond to our modern months anyway.

Note 03:— There is some light swearing in this tale.

Disclaimer:— MCA/Universal/RenPics, or whoever, own all copyrights to everything related to ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’ and I have no rights to them.

 

—O—

The naval base at the port of Thessalonika, located at the head of the mighty Gulf of Salonika, was home to a great proportion of the Greek navy, a score or so of triremes, biremes by the hundred, pentekonters beyond compute, and even four quadriremes and two gigantic quinquiremes.       Altogether a prepossessing site overall, especially to the uninitiated.

Now, in the late evening of an Autumn night Xena, Princess of all she surveyed, and Gabrielle, Amazon Queen, sat as guests on the all but otherwise deserted 60-oar pentekonter Berenice—commander, Agathon of Smyrna— the vessel having a single line of 30 oars on each side, and presently lying at anchor some eight stadia offshore out in the wide Gulf. With these three crew were another trio consisting of Bargoas, quartermaster of the vessel, when fully manned; Elathon, scribe of the Governing Council of the city, and Lysias, a young centurion.

Ashore the citizens of the great port were busy having a communal late night curtesy of the ongoing Festival in honour of the harvest on this last day and night of October; this always concluding in a scene of unbridled happiness and unqualified letting your toga hang loose, not to mention ladies’ chitons. Aboard the pentekonter, on the other hand, things were being undertaken in a rather more reserved and conservative manner.

The reason for these six persons being aboard the ship, and no others whatever, on this particular late October evening lay in rumours which, repeated over several months, had come to cloak the unhappy vessel with the title of a haunted ship; haunted by what no-one was exactly sure. But the Senator in charge of the city’s daily concerns had given his authority for Xena and Gabrielle to assist in discovering, if possible, the basis for the rumours.

“You’re saying you don’t believe the ship’s haunted at all?” Xena raising an enquiring eyebrow towards Agathon, as they all sat round the long table in the captain’s cabin to the rear of the vessel. “Why so?”

“No, I mean to make clear that I do not believe in the world of the so-called Supernatural at all.” Agathon was a tall grey-haired Greek, from a famous family of wealth and power, well used to engaging in disciplined action. “Ghosts, spirits, supernatural entities, or demons, nothing of that sort. It all being, when logic is applied to the situation, indeterminate and without viable evidence.”

“So, you do not believe in the Gods, I take it?” Elathon coming forward with a frown to join the discussion. “I fail to understand—I mean, how can the life of the world go on without the Gods in charge over everything and everybody? It simply stands to reason, does it not? Are they not even, as we speak, overlooking this present fair October Festival across in the city?”

“Not in my world-view, no.” Agathon shaking his head. “I have never found any evidence proving the existence of Gods, and will not believe in such without that evidence.”

Gabrielle, till this point twisting her silver goblet of wine thoughtfully, now hunched forward over the table eyeing Agathon sharply.

“Xena and I have had such, er, inter-communication with the Supernatural—and can say with certainty Gods and the Supernatural do exist.”

Agathon was not impressed, merely shrugging his shoulders under his toga.

“If that is so, for yourselves, well,—all I say is provide proof of such, such as I can understand and accept the conclusion. Is that too much to ask?”

Xena and Gabrielle glanced at each other, various memories flashing through each’s mind; then Xena put her goblet down and came out fighting.

“For us it happened—for you, perhaps it is still to come.”

“I await the future reckoning with interest.” Agathon obviously not convinced by this argument.

Bargoas, quartermaster, spoke up here, his mind clearly focused on more rational down-to-earth problems.

“The last rowboat taking the remainder of the crew ashore cast-off just under a medium clepsydra ago, gentlemen and ladies.” His voice raspy through years of shouting commands into the faces of innumerable gales. “Whatever the case may turn out to be, we’re all here for the duration of the coming night now, that’s certain. Shall we make up watch-lists?”

Faced with the rudimentary need to organise, everyone sat back with some relief; each knowing what was going to be required on the wholly physical plane of the ship’s running.

“Right, how many of us are there?” Gabrielle coming into her own. “Six, OK. What is it now? About two hours till midnight? Let’s see—two crew for the first watch from now till an hour after midnight—two from then till three hours later—another two people for the following three hours; that should take us to around seven hours after midnight and full morning. We’ll use the clepsydra in the wardroom to keep track of time. How’s that sound?”

“How about Gabrielle and I take the first watch.” Xena looking round the table for confirmation. “Agathon and Bargoas the second watch; and Elathon and Lysias for the third? OK?”

Agreement being settled on this matter everyone rose to attend to their personal needs; where they were going to sleep, where to stow their equipment, and where exactly to take their watches.

“Should we stay in one place, waiting for something to happen?” Lysias contemplating details. “Or roam the ship in a sort of routine patrol?”

“Probably the latter would be best.” Xena allowing her inherent military knowledge to come to the fore. “Allows us to cover more territory, see what’s going on across the ship, mark if everything’s shaping up alright or not.”

“Right,” Agathon looking around his cabin as everyone stood by him. “I and Bargoas can sleep in here; Elathon and Lysias can take the quartermaster’s cabin down the corridor on the left, and you, Xena and Gabrielle, can take the wardroom at the end of the corridor where I and the quartermaster and another couple of officers eat. If anything happens a shout should reach us all without trouble.”

“OK, let’s do it.”

 

—O—

 

On deck everything was now cloaked in darkness, except for the distant lights of the port itself glittering like a line of jewels laid across a dark satin cloth; where the October Festival, frankly, was still just in the course of stretching its first legs. The silhouette of the central mast, with its angled yardarm, rose like a huge tree before the women as they strolled on the decking over the rowers’ positions below; in the distance, the pentekonter being some 90 feet overall in length, the dark mass of the high carved bowsprit rose ahead of the bow. The water rippled against the sides of the vessel, driven by a light breeze; the creaking of the ropes, of which there were scores about the ship, adding their musical twanging to the cool air. From the virtually invisible port, now lost in gloom, a hardly describable low hum gave notice of the nearness of the large city even at this late hour; curtesy, obviously, of the ongoing festivities there. Xena halted in her stride, holding onto a stray piece of rigging halfway along the deck, and glanced at Gabrielle.

“Well, here we are, lady.”

Gabrielle, dressed in her usual attire—short top, low-slung skirt barely covering her upper thighs, and soft leather boots each with its sai tied with thin leather straps, paused to take in her lover’s words.

“Yeah, we’re here—question is—what’s here with us; an’ I don’t mean the rest of the crew.”

“Ha!”

“An’ if we find out—will Agathon believe it?”

Xena snorted, shrugging near bare shoulders above her hard leather corset.

“Be an idiot if he doesn’t believe the evidence of his own eyes an’ ears.”

“By the by, what’s the general layout of this hulk, if I may ask; speaking entirely as a happy landlubber?”

Xena gave her lover a strained glance, but let it go—after all, from years of experience the Princess had long learned this was always the safest way to forestall unnecessary arguments; and given the least opportunity Gabrielle certainly would argue—over anything.

“OK, little girl, it’s a pentekonter; which means a fast galley. This one is larger than most with sixty rowers rather than the ordinary fifty; a single line on each side, as ya see. Mast an’ yardarm for sail, not quite halfway along the deck; speakin’ of which this ship’s fully decked, rather than just centrally decked like most pentekonters. Around ninety feet in length and about fourteen in breadth. A large prow figurehead, representing—”

“Berenice!”

“You are awake! Ho!”

“Fool, get on with it; the dawn’ll be here a’fore you finish, otherwise.”

“Huh!” Xena well used to her companion’s renowned lack of patience. “So,—where was I?”

“Prow figure.”

“Ah, right.” The Princess, back on a level keel once more, smiling her thanks. “Rowers’ positions and cabins on the high deck, below our feet as we stand here. Back at the stern the tall over-arching carved sternpost—”

“Why? I’ve often wondered.”

Again Xena paused in her lecture to contemplate unknowingness, if not downright naivety, personified—though she was far too sensible to remark on the subject.

“It, ah, it, er,—it’s a help in turning the vessel when the two crew assigned to each of the huge rudder-oars on either side of it pivot them—balancing weight, y’know.”

Gabrielle gave her lover a look full of doubt and reservation mixed with a soupçon of actual disbelief, but refrained from audibly refuting the Princess’s words outright.

“Oh!”

“Below the high deck, is the first deck,” Xena, now completely engaged in describing the layout of the large vessel, proceeded heartily. “the first deck inside the ship, where various cabins for other passengers, stowage, and light cargo items are laid out. At the stern, on this deck, are the Captain’s cabin, the Quartermaster’s ditto, and the wardroom where the crew meet to discuss the running of the ship. Below is the second deck, given over to long low-ceilinged apartments where various items of ships’ equipment are stowed, along with a long open cargo-hold. Below which are the bilges themselves, connected to hand-driven pumps on deck, to keep them reasonably clear of water as each voyage progresses. That’s the lot, darlin’. Happy?”

“Ii-iirph!”

Moving on again they walked the length of the vessel, finally reaching the bare open deck by the bow, only the tall bow-carving rising above them.

“What’s our course of action, then?”

“We go up an’ down both sides o’the deck.” Xena fully in command of her options. “Then below an’ through every cabin an’ cargo space in turn. Ought’a be able t’repeat the process, oh, three times during our watch!”

“What about the rowers’ positions?” Gabrielle reflecting on a detail of some import. “They take up most of the length on both sides of the high deck, on each side of the crew’s accommodation cabins under our feet, but they’re cramped as all get-out.”

“Yeah, only reached by those narrow corridors; so narrow, in fact, you rub both shoulders on the sides as ya crawl along. Fancy we’ll leave ‘em t’their own devices. If a demon decides t’take up residence in one or the other, good luck to it, I say. I’m not crawlin’ hunched over nearly on my knees ter make acquaintance, no matter how noisy it turns out.”

“Huh!—like your style, Warrior Princess.”

“Oh, come on, you.”

 

—O—

 

There were no other vessels anchored close, by request; so the pentekonter was on its own, whatever might take place.

“Got those torches to hand?”

“For emergencies? Yeah, they’re in cases at each end of the deck; here’s the bow one.” Xena pointing out the low wooden box on the deck by their boots. “Four torches, ready tipped with oil-soaked material, and tinder-box with flints alongside. Also a pot of Greek Fire in each case—”

“—for extra emergencies, I take it!” Gabrielle liking her little joke of an evening.

“Ho-ho, little girl.” Xena curling a supercilious lip. “Very funny. Ya wan’na take the starboard side? I’ll wander back along the port—meet ya back at the stern-post.”

“Oh, if I must.” Gabrielle letting all her impatience show, muttering further imprecations under her breath as she turned to follow orders, soon disappearing from Xena’s view in the surrounding dark.

Xena waited a short time further, looking out across the low bulwark over the vast extent of the Gulf’s surface lit by the moon’s reflection, then turned to pace back the way she had come. Running her fingers along the flat bulwark top she took note of the miscellaneous equipment lying on the high deck, glancing from time to time down to the sea’s surface near the vessel, until the tall dark form of the sternpost came into view. As she reached the stern she saw Gabrielle awaiting her arrival.

“Finally made it, doll?” Gabrielle taking the uppity line. “Was growing old waitin’.”

“Ooh, lady, you are workin’ to a nasty surprise—an’ it ain’t gon’na be supernatural, either.”

“Oo-er!”

Before Xena could think of, never mind articulate, a suitable reply they were interrupted by a sudden burst of what sounded like Panpipe music coming from somewhere unfocussed but nearby, if not actually aboard the vessel.

Whee—Whoo—Whaa—Whaaee!

Both women paused to prick their ears and gaze around across the level surface of the sea.

“You hear that?”

“Yeah, Gabs.” Xena still peering into the darkness across the waves. “Music, Panpipes I think; but was it aboard, or across the water somewhere?”

“Can’t say.” Gabrielle turning from side to side. “Gods! We’ll have to search the whole ship, now, dam’mit?”

“No.” Xena taking the pragmatic line. “Not for a short burst of music. We’ll take another tour of the deck—you take the starboard side again, like I said,—an’ see if we can see a vessel, rowboat or whatever, nearby. See ya back in the bow. Though why anyone’s making with the Panpipes at this time of night, out in the Gulf, I don’t know. Of course, with that dam’ Festival still in full swing over in Thessalonika anything’s possible, I expect.”

Gabrielle looked dubious about this course of action but Xena walked off, disappearing in the dark before the Amazon, in her turn, could think of a suitable answer.

“Oh, sh-t!—and I have so much still to do here, too. I just so wish that dam’ Peri would keep herself to herself!”

 

—O—

 

Back once more at the bow Xena was no whit better off in knowing what was going on. From port to starboard, looking out over the more or less calm surface of the waves, across the vast extent of the Gulf and shoreward towards the still actively and somewhat noisily thriving Thessalonika, she saw no vessel near enough to have been the source of the late music. She stood, somewhat irresolutely, glancing back along the deck then down at her boots on the wooden decking; her thoughts finally interrupted by the arrival of the one she loved most in all the world.

“See anythin’? Hear anythin’?”

“Neither.” Gabrielle practicing her version of Spartan stoicism. “You?”

“Nope.” Xena shrugging her shoulders in return. “What I think is—”

Whee—Whoo—Whoaa—Whee!

The sound of what were now indubitably Panpipes again echoed nearby; their origin apparently somewhere below decks.

“Not the rowers’ deck.” Gabrielle turning from side to side, head at an angle listening intently. “Somewhere lower, on the first deck, I think?”

“Must be.” Xena, for some reason finding herself growing somewhat angry. “Let’s take it from both ends. There’s a hatch here I can use; you go back t’the stern, there’s a ladder leadin’ below deck there. Take the starboard side, I’ll take the port—see what we can find. Hope t’Hades it ain’t just Lysias passing the time in his bunk relaxing with his own Panpipes. If so, I’ll dam’ well throttle the idiot!”’

 

—O—

 

The room was set-up in all ways similarly to a public saloon in a small Inn, at least that was what it appeared to be—even to bright sunlight coming through the windows and wide-open entrance. Several round tables filled the dusty floor, while a long bar ran along the right side of the high-ceilinged room. At these tables a fairly large number of—persons?—sat talking animatedly to each other. There being only one other customer at the table Gabrielle found herself seated by; one who was apparently female but light-blue of skin, long thick dark hair flowing well over her shoulders, sporting ears like a pony’s and eyes more appropriate to a citizen of Chin than Macedonia; her hands and fingers, also, were highly elongated with long nails painted in differing colours. Her clothes consisting of a crimson satin shirt, sparklingly reflective, tied in front with thin silver cloth bows, a wide light-brown belt, dark leggings in the Germanic style, finished by thick black leather boots. As Gabrielle came to a full consciousness of her suddenly revealed surroundings she became aware this person had been, and still was, talking to her.

“—so that’s the bare nucleus of the situation, Mighty Queen.” The blue-skinned young woman nodding determinedly, as if in full control of the present situation. “Sorry it’s meant separating you from your loved one for a time, but necessity has no borders, you know.”

“No, I don’t know!” Gabrielle coming finally to her senses, and the knowledge that something mighty peculiar was going on. “Where in Hades am I? Who are you? And—well, what the Hades?”

Seeing she had not made herself quite as clear as she may have hoped the girl, for she was young, sat back, sighed quietly, then patiently started from the beginning again.

“You, here as we speak, are visiting in Olympus—well, Paradise—er, that’s to say, Freyja's Fólkvangr field—well, something like, anyway; let’s not get bogged down over labels, eh?”

Gabrielle however, as anyone who knew her well would instantly have certified without fear of dissent, wasn’t having any of this sloppy ideology.

“No, let’s get bogged down, to our armpits, if necessary.” She giving the girl her best Valkyrie glare. “Where am I? Where’s Xena? And if anything shady’s goin’ on, prepare t’die screamin’. Do I make myself clear, gal?”

Faced with an Amazon with her brakes fully off, the girl opposite sat back defensively, as anyone with sense would, contemplating her companion; then began yet again.

“Well, at present you’re in sort of an intermediate world—a landscape where things that don’t happen on Earth do happen here.” The girl shrugged her shoulders, pausing to take a refreshing and calming swallow from her silver tankard. “That’s as clear as I can put it. We here are all fairies, pixies, fays, wraiths, djinns, peris, and suchlike. Sort of in-between spirits, you might say—neither too good nor too bad; just annoying as Hades, as those on Earth usually perceive us. You following me?”

“Only too clearly.” Gabrielle imbuing this remark with her best sarcastic tone.

“No need to sound that way; we’re only trying to help, y’know.”

“Well, you’re not succeeding, at least in my case.” Gabrielle saying it as she found it. “For the umpteenth time, where’s Xena—and what the Hades’ is goin’ on?”

Finding she needed it the girl in the crimson shirt allowed herself another soft sigh and comprehensive pull at her tankard then, rejuvenated, faced the foe like a heroine again.

“OK-OK, lem’me see—OK, it’s like this—”

“For all the Gods’ sakes, get on with it!”

“OK. Lem’me finish, an’ I’ll do just that!” The girl showing some spirit in her turn. “—er, so, what’s happened is, a Peri—you know what a Peri is, by the way?”

“Ares’ sword! Of course I know what a Peri is. So what?”

“A dam’ annoyin’ sprite, ful’la mischief an’ impertinence, just t’clear the matter up—just so we’re readin’ from the same scroll, y’know.” The girl settling on her chair, clearly for the long run. “Well, this one, Amara by name, has a reputation for making a spectacle of herself down on Earth at the least opportunity. We usually keep a close eye on her here but, you know, we don’t have eyes in the back’s of our heads, even here.”

“So, she escaped, is what you’re tellin’ me?”

“—er, yes, in short.” The girl shook her head, frowning with a censorious expression. “Happens now and again, y’know. And now, you see, she’s—well, she’s—well—”

Long accustomed to such circumstances Gabrielle groaned out loud, knowing that the coming news wasn’t going to be good of its kind.

“Spit it out, gal, spit it out.”

“She’s down on that pentekonter, preparing to cause panic, disarray, and confusion all round; wholly light-heartedly of course, there not being a harsh bone in her body, or ethereal spirit, anyway,—me, meanwhile having taken your place to find and haul her home as soon as possible.”

Gabrielle considered this for a few seconds, finding this explanation curiously full of logical fallacies.

“You’ve taken my place?” The Amazon Queen not quite up to speed on this point. “What d’you mean? You’re here beside me, right now.”

“But also down on the pentekonter as well, as we speak.” The girl for the first time grinning, in a purely annoying manner. “We djinns’ being able t’do that sort’a thing, y’know.”

Gabrielle, somewhat confused, paused to shake her own head.

“Taken my place, you say?” She coming suddenly to an unwanted conclusion. “Exactly how, if I may ask?”

“—er, that’s why I had t’transport you here, in the first place.” The female djinn coming clean, a trifle embarrassedly. “I can be in two places at once, but you, obviously, can’t; ergo, the present situation. I can shapeshift, y’see—so right now Xena, and everyone else on the pentekonter, thinks I’m you—simple.”

Having been thus considerately provided with all the information, and ammunition, needed Gabrielle, Queen of the Amazons, now proceeded to go off the deep end, bigtime.

“You p-ssy little sh-tty, no-good whor—”

 

—O—

 

The interior passages below decks on the pentekonter were shrouded in full darkness, so lanterns were the order of the day. Xena’s being small but bright of its type, spreading enough light to show the corridors and cabins clearly as she progressed along the second deck, she taking the port while Gabrielle took the starboard side. Halfway along neither she, nor Gabrielle, had spotted or heard anything further of interest; they coming to a halt in a cross passage between cabins.

“Anythin’?”

“No, she’s—I mean, it’s been quiet so far.” Gabrielle biting her lip as she spoke.

Xena took a quick glance at her companion, she having already begun to wonder in her mind about the curious physical stance the Amazon had lately taken up, entirely unlike the usual posture of her lover; suspicions, if not yet growing, were certainly at least beginning to be planted.

“Reminds me of that time, back in Boeotia a coupl’a years since, Gabs, when we went t’that theatre show, an’ listened t’the awful chorus there—remember, gal?”

Gabrielle, her thoughts clearly elsewhere, merely nodded absently.

“Yeah, of course; sounded dam’ silly, didn’t they? Remember it well.”

“That’s funny—‘cause I don’t.”

Taken off-guard Gabrielle twisted round from peering into the darkness along a corridor to contemplate her warrior companion with something of an expression of misgiving.

“—er,—er,—”

“Where’s Gabrielle?”

“What?”

“You heard.”

Xena, in one swift movement, drew her sword, placing its sharp tip against the collar bone of the impersonator beside her.

“You ain’t Gabrielle; where is she? An’ if anything bad’s occurred, I’ll slice yer ter pieces, sure.”

The pseudo-Gabrielle, now outed for what she was, sighed as she turned to face her opponent fully.

“I’m a djinn, you can’t hurt me.”

“Ya think?” Xena giving of her most evil demented grin. “Ya don’t know me, do ya? Listen, b-tch, anythin’ happens t’Gabrielle, you’ll pay dearly, djinn or no. So, spit it out—what the dam’s goin’ on? An’ tell the truth, there’s a dear,—lyin’ ter me now’s jes’ askin’ fer a death sentence, savvy?”

“Oh, sh-t!”

“For sure!”

 

—O—

 

The dark environment encompassing the ship’s below deck passages was not in itself conducive to a comfortable parley; but needs must when devils, and unwanted djinns, drove.

“That is the most childish, idiotic tale I’ve ever heard.” Xena taking the High Road in umbrage, after the djinn had explained her presence. “Why in Hades’ didn’t ya just come down, tell the Captain what was afoot, an’ collar the dam’ Peri there an’ then? Save everyone a whole dam’ lot’ta trouble.”

“We don’t work that way.” Pseudo-Gabrielle actually blushing, driven on the defensive.

“Oh?” Xena taking no prisoners, her thoughts still on Gabrielle’s whereabouts and safety. “How do you work, then? ‘cause this here fiasco’s playin’ out like a child’s prank, is all. This the best ya got, lady?”

The djinn, thrown on her back foot, let her shoulders droop, giving in entirely under this snarky attack.

“Gods!” She sighing sadly at her present situation. “When I joined the Earth Defence League I never thought it’d come t’this! Wish I was back in Persia, annoying travelers in the desert oases’ an’ caravanserais’—that being way more fun than I gave it credit for at the time.”

“Well, with any luck you’ll be demoted back there in the twinklin’ of an eye, when this farrago’s all sorted out.” Xena still succumbing to her inner demons. “So, Gabrielle’s in some Afterlife World where demons, djinns an’ peris hold sway? Bet they’re all re-assessing their life-choices as we speak, if I know Gabrielle and her temper. Bring her back—now! An’ your dam’ other half—yeah, I know djinns all ways up an’ down; I got words I aim ter have with that manifestation of you, sure thing—an’ she won’t like it any more’n you, believe me!”

Pseudo-Gabrielle, left with no defence on either hand, gazed at her captor, glanced from side to side as if hoping for succor from the surrounding dark then, before she could do anything further, they both heard the Peri in question going about her dam’ exasperating annoyances once again—

Whoo—Whoaa—Whaa—Whee.

“Gods, I so dam’ hate dam’ Panpipes.” Xena losing all her little supply of patience in one fell swoop. “Dam’ well do somethin’, idiot!”

The djinn, caught between two disasters far too similar to the proverbial Scylla and Charybdis to be in any way comfortable, groaned deeply then gave in.

Shazaam!

A red light flickered all round, infused with silver sparkles, then the surrounding darkness returned, though now encompassing four persons’ forms instead of two.

“Hi’ya, Gabs. Been tellin’ this fool what ya think of her?”

“Yeah, she has,” The original djinn speaking up first. “and what she thinks of my whole world and every sprite therein. I got’ta headache, now.”

“Tough.” The unique and one-and-only Gabrielle grinning from ear to ear. “Hi’ya, babe; don’t worry, I dealt with this failure of a djinn back in her hometown; now she knows what’s what all round she won’t be any more trouble. You’re gon’na collar this dam’ Peri an’ take her hostage for good an’ all now, ain’t you, lady—both you an’ your not-me here?”

“Yes-yes.” The djinn obviously defeated in toto. “I’ll—”

“One thing, a’fore ya start.” Xena peremptorily laying out her ground rules. “Like Gabrielle is intimating in her gentle Amazonian way, two Gabrielles’ is one Gabrielle too much. Do ya mind?”

The djinn, looking at the warrior’s raised eyebrows, took the hint at once.

Vvv-rrim!

Another light display, this time pale green infused with yellow sparks, flickered all round; at the conclusion of which it was found that Gabrielle, the perfect and only, was sole inmate of her kind in the narrow lantern-lit passageway.

“That’s better.” Gabrielle herself coming to the fore once more, invigorated beyond reason by her triumph over certain recent experiences. “Now, lady, what I want—and what my heartmate here with the nasty long sword also requires—is for you to seek out this damnably annoying pipe-blower, clap her in irons, an’ transport her t’your own realm, from whence we here never expect to be irritated by her unwanted presence ever again. Do I make myself clear, young djinn?”

The djinn, harassed on all sides, could only nod in sad acquiescence.

“I’ll project my other self—in my own likeness, don’t worry—on the other side of this dam’ boat. We’ll—I mean I’ll, go from stem t’stern both ways, an’ when we—I mean I—find the little excrescence we’ll—I mean I’ll—shove her dam’ Panpipes where the sun don’t shine, believe me. OK?”

Furrowing their brows, both not quite as clear as they wished about this plan, the hardy women warriors finally nodded in unison, if somewhat sourly.

“Make it snappy.” Xena adding this just from spite. “Gabrielle an’ I have things of import t’do, you know—other than these dam’ silly child’s games. Get movin’.”

An instant later the djinn had gone about her business; so quickly in fact neither Xena nor Gabrielle could afterwards satisfactorily admit to having seen her actually depart in physical form.

“Djinns,” Gabrielle saying it as she found it. “a menace, whatever side you take ‘em on.”

“Too true.” Xena speaking somewhat off-handedly, she still being absorbed by another point of interest. “Pity I haven’t had the chance t’meet this dam’ Peri—got things ter say—an’ do—that’d make her re-assess her whole life’s import; dam’me if I don’t!”

“Har!”

Before they could continue this highly entertaining and delightful conversation an interruption occurred of a wholly pleasant nature.

Whoo—Whee—Whaa—Wha—aaaAAAHH!

Then silence; a silence all-encompassing and tranquil; not even the sound of waves sloshing against the sides of the vessel to be heard, nor the ropes or rigging whistling in the breeze—just peaceful silence, at least for a few delicious seconds before the natural sounds outside once again filtered through the frame of the pentekonter.

“She found the little annoying rabbit.”

“Would seem so.” Xena sighing heartily as she placed a protecting arm on the shoulder of her inamorata. “Meb’be we can take the rest of our watch off now, don’t you think? Fancy a few hours sleep?”

“Yeah, suppose.” Gabrielle, however, was now full of tales of far realms and unknown beings just itching to see the light of day through her ready lips. “Though, I got’ta say, I’ve got the juiciest story t’tell, about what I got up to up there—you know, in the djinn’s realm. Come on, let’s get back to our cabin; this way, warrior –woman: see, it was like this, lover—”

“Oh, Gods, is there no escape?”

“What? Anyways, what I did was—”

 

 

The End

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