Note: This story should be able to stand alone, but you might get more out of it if you read "Memphus" first. As for the timeframe, some time before Callisto became a god.

Warning: Violence, sex and brutality ahead.

Disclaimer: The characters of Xena, Gabrielle and Callisto belong to MCA/Universal and all appropriate corporate and individual entities. They are used here without permission but also without intent of profit. Any reproduction of this piece of humble fanfiction should contain this disclaimer, along with all copyright notices. That said, let’s all try and have some fun now.

 

The Loneliest Number

by: Sonia C. Barrera
s_barrera@hotmail.com

Chapter 1

The deceptively-petite warrior stood with a devilish smile spreading across her lips, her eyes alight with the glow of a shiny toy. "Waron...I want that. Bring it to me," she purred.

The savage-looking henchman at her side followed her gaze across the dark, smoky tavern to the figure that leaned casually against the wall by the roaring fire, legs crossed in front, arms folded, a large mug loosely gripped in one hand. As they watched, a hand was run through thick, mahogany curls, revealing a thoughtful scowl.

"Yes, Callisto," Waron answered with measured weariness. He stalked across the bar, weaving through tables filled with his rowdy comrades and villager regulars. As he neared, he could make out the glint of chest armor on the figure, and his hand gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist instinctively, his eyes moving over the warrior, taking stock of any obvious weapons. The scanning ground to a halt at the bare stomach and leather-clad rises underneath the shiny metal protection. He squared his shoulders, stepping up to the tall woman. Shoulder against the wall, she was staring into the fire, dark curls cascading across her face, hiding it. He cleared his throat, once, then again in annoyance as his presence remained unacknowledged. He heard her sigh, and the smell of brewed malts breezed over him.

She didn’t bother to turn as she spoke flatly, "If you have something to say, say it. But let me advise you that I’ve had a bad day." Her voice was syrupy, thick and deep.

Waron’s scowl deepened. "I have orders to escort you to my master."

"Do you?" the sultry voice responded, the warrior turning and straightening, finally. She looked up slowly, the large, mahogany eyes bleary, the smooth angles of her face slack. The two stood eye to eye. "You tell your master that you failed your orders." She didn’t blink as her knife slid into the soldier’s taut stomach, sweeping across as she pulled out. Waron’s eyes went wide, and he cupped the blood and exposed intestines in his large hands, looking down at them in disbelief. The warrior turned him to face the way he’d come, and gave him a firm push. Then she took another swig of her ale and let her eyes unfocus again, watching the flames dance.

In her shadowed corner, Callisto pouted with dismay as she watched her errand boy rebuffed like a small child. She tapped her foot impatiently as he made slow progress back to her, rebounding off tables in an erratic approach, to finally stand in front of her. Her tongue played along her teeth. "What are you waiting for, Waron? Explain yourself…and make it good," she barked.

He only looked at her dumbly, then down at his large, clenched hands. They opened, revealing the growing stain of blood, then the jagged gash in his midsection, his slick intestines protruding. "It hurts..." he whispered.

"Yes, I imagine it does," his mistress said coldly, standing. She considered her soldier’s wound. "I take it she said no... Well, Waron, would you like me to help you?" she asked, holding his watery gaze steadily.

"Yes...please..." the bleeding soldier slurred, looking down at his mistress with hopeful eyes.

"Okay," she perked, stepping behind the moaning soldier and drawing her jagged knife across his throat swiftly, wiping it on his shoulder as he sank, clutching weakly at his throat. The incident caught the attention of the other soldiers, the tavern going silent and tense. She motioned a few men over calmly, instructing them to dispose of their defunct lieutenant. The chatter resumed once it became apparent that their leader’s wrath was contained.

Her lips pursed, Callisto turned her attention back to the warrior and emerged from the shadows, striding across the tavern. She stood in front of the tall figure, her head cocked haughtily. "That was my best man you killed."

The woman raised her head, a light sparking in her glazed eyes as she let them wash over the willow-thin warrior, her doll-like features, the wispy dirty-blond hair of a child, the vulgar, black leather clothing. An amused smile formed. "That was your best man?" She moistened her full lips and shrugged. "But I haven’t killed him yet. He’ll last at least an hour or two with that wound."

"Not since I slit his throat," Callisto responded primly. "I don’t like to see my men suffer, unless they deserve it. But let’s not get into semantics. Incompetent or not, he was my best man -- loyal and good on the battlefield. Now this leaves a debt between us: you owe me a body. A good one," she said suggestively, letting her eyes run flagrantly up the warrior’s leather-clad legs, over the firm breasts to the dancing eyes.

The eyes crinkled, and heads turned at the deep, seductive laughter. "I’ve always been of the mind that some debt is worth carrying," the warrior said, letting her empty mug clatter to the tavern floor as she lifted the smaller woman up in strong arms, her long strides carrying them swiftly to the staircase that led up to her room.

Callisto gasped at the brazen move, her brow knitting as she was whisked by her soldiers who only stared up at her in mute amazement. Her shock at the audacity wore off halfway up the stairs, her face contorting in anger. She threw her leg behind the woman’s neck, leveraging herself up behind the woman’s head onto her shoulders and tightening her thighs, vice-like, around the woman's throat. She reached for a passing beam and pulled up, raising the woman’s feet off the ground, the choking woman prying at her thighs with hard fingers. "I’ve killed people for less than what you just did," Callisto hissed down at her captive.

"Wouldn’t this...be...more effective...if I were...facing...the other direction?" the woman wheezed, her laughter coming in choppy coughing.

Callisto looked down at her in incredulity, a smile breaking across her face in spite of herself. She relaxed her thighs, and the woman fell, missing her footing and sliding down a few stairs. Callisto landed lightly after her and descended the stairs between them, looking down at the woman who was still laughing deeply even as she rubbed her throat and an elbow bruised in the fall.

The fallen warrior looked up at her through long, scattered curls, and her boozy eyes and smile smoldered. "Come here." She held a hand up to the smaller woman, genteelly. Callisto eyed it skeptically before laying her hand in it. Brusquely, the warrior pulled her down, wrapping her in her arms with a victorious look before kissing her passionately, the smaller woman’s brief resistance dissipated by the searing lips and agile tongue, the kiss culminating in a painful nip at her lower lip; the flavor of ale stayed with Callisto.

"What do you do to people who do that to you?" the woman whispered.

Callisto was silenced by the deep eyes. She let the stranger pull her up and lead her to her room. Once inside, the two warriors faced each other tensely. The taller woman leaned in slowly, and Callisto closed her eyes in anticipation, but she pulled back, teasingly. Then again. Callisto’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped in quickly, burying her fingers in the thick hair and pulling the woman down to lay a hard kiss on her, smiling at the contained pain she saw betrayed on her face.

The woman’s fingers tugged at each of Callisto’s, extricating them from her hair. She cupped the hands between her own, smoothly wrapping a hand around both wrists. The nymph warrior tracked the movement suspiciously, but as the other hand traced a light path down her exposed stomach, taut, and ran one finger behind the waistband of the leather skirt with a sultry grin, a gasp escaped the blond warrior. The stranger’s grin turned malicious suddenly, and the nymph warrior tensed, but her reaction was dulled, the taller woman tightening her grips on the doubled wrists and the waistband and lifting, quickly swinging the smaller woman back, then forward, tossing her. Instinctively, Callisto twisted midair to face her landing, the soft bedding catching her with a sigh even as she was scrambling, pushing away the pillows that had tumbled over her. But the woman was upon her, straddling her back, pinning her arms wide.

"Don’t move," was the command, and the smaller woman froze as she felt hot breath against her neck, lips hovering there, stirring small, sensitive hairs, making her body quiver. The breath was at her ear now, the sultry whisper hypnotic. "Now...I have a job to do...let me do it." Her tongue traced a light path around the ear’s rim with a restrained penetration that elicited a moan from the blonde, her neck snaking away at the intensity of the sensation. "Uhmm...I think I’ve found a weak spot..." she purred, "...but I think I’ll save that for later."

Callisto released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Moments followed that she felt nothing; her ears strained to catch a sound. She became aware that her arms were no longer pinned, but as she tried to move them, she felt stiff leather thongs around them tighten, and her arms were drawn up over her head. She tossed her head, dislodging the pillows surrounding her, and looked up to see the woman finishing a knot onto the bedpost. "No!" she screamed savagely, the look of a trapped animal washing across her face. She thrashed her arms, but the bindings only grew tighter.

The woman straddling her smiled. "Shhh..." she whispered into Callisto’s ear. "You’re not in command here. This is my bed, my rules." She slid her hands up the nymph warrior’s arms, sliding her thumbs beneath the slip-knots, opening them slightly. "But you’re safe. Pain is not what I’m planning to cause you."

Callisto strained her neck to meet her eyes defiantly, then yanked her arms again, the slip-knots drawing even tighter than before. "Then change your plans," she said, her voice husky.

The woman blinked slowly, expelling an aroused sigh and nodding. "We’ll see," she whispered, her smile gone now. She moistened her lips again. "But first I want you naked…" She slid a hand down the woman’s leg to her boot, withdrawing the dagger sheathed there. "...including weapons." She placed it on the table by the bed and continued to remove the warrior’s clothing, bit by bit, her hands and lips teasing, drawing the process out.

The woman beneath her was now stripped of the rough, black leather, skin thin and pale over a petite frame. Her own skin appeared an even deeper brown in comparison as she cupped one pert breast. She rolled its stiff nipple between her fingers absently, her eyes drifting up to the watching Callisto, and pinched. Hard.

Callisto stifled her yelp, stopping her body from jerking away. She worked to keep her breathing even, though the sound of it and her rushing blood filled her ears. She became aware that she was cringing, not knowing if the next touch would bring pleasure or pain, or both, and she hated that, hated the weakness of it. In turn, that release to weakness stoked her urgency. And this woman knew it, could read her. It showed in the way she looked at her, the confidence in her eyes. The inability to tolerate that began to rise up in her, but her body’s reactions to the woman’s touch canceled the instinct, made it ebb.

"What should I do to you..." The long fingers were dabbling in the tight curls between Callisto’s legs, absently. "What would you do?" she whispered, her eyes narrowing as she stared intently down at the silent woman, reading her. A Cheshire smile tugged at her lips. "Aah..." she whispered. Raising herself, she twirled the smaller woman beneath her onto her stomach, and her playful fingers suddenly hardened, the thumb penetrating the slick folds of the bound woman violently, in and up, then nestling there as she pressed her face into Callisto’s neck, lacing it with a string of delicate, lapping kisses that countered the taunting pressure of her hand.

Callisto moaned loudly at the penetration, and her hips were rocking now, trying to create the friction her body cried out for, but the hand would not indulge her. It was only when she stopped her body’s desperate writhing that the thumb was thrust in again, then slowly withdrawn, moving in and around her folds. Then out. Then upward. Slowly. Callisto’s breathing grew deeper as she recognized its course. She began to struggle, but the woman on top of her rested more of her weight against her back, pressing her into the bed, and the hand held steady in its progression.

Callisto struggled harder, her breathing ragged now, her body trembling. "No," she managed, then "no" again. She heard her voice, like a child’s, and she hated the sound. She hated what was about to happen, but her juices ran even thicker with excitement. "No!" she cried as she felt the thumb trailing her rim, but even as she said that, her back arched, her fine buttocks thrusting up, and she felt it enter, the pain delicious. She moaned against the sensation and against the disgust that she felt, the vulnerability, which was even worse. She could feel the woman thrusting slowly, painfully, then suddenly, the woman had penetrated her folds again and was moving both hands in alternating rhythm, and Callisto felt the world going to black as waves of pleasure rocked her. She felt as if she was shrinking back into her body, becoming so very small, all her anger and fury gone, only the very core of herself, imploding, until she felt that she would disappear. Then she was floating, light and free in the dark womb of the universe, freed of breathing, freed of thinking, even freed of feeling for a moment before everything came rushing back in, a kaleidoscope of sensation, and her body was rocking wildly, spasming with her orgasm, her lungs gasping for breath, her arms thrashing wildly, the pain of the tightening binds feeding her climax. And she was crying, hot tears spilling from her eyes.

The woman rode her out until her movements deteriorated into senseless spasms. She undid the leather slip-knots and collected the crying woman in her arms, wrapping her body around hers, tears rolling down her shoulder and staining her leather. She held her tight, massaging and kissing the chafed skin around Callisto’s wrists and rocking her until she slept.

 

Chapter 2

Callisto’s eyes snapped open. She looked around herself in momentary confusion, blinking heavily through tear-crusted eyes. She’d had a blissful dream that she was a child again in her mother’s arms, innocent and full of hope for the coming day; rage poured in as she felt its memory slipping away from her. She became conscious of the warmth of a body and arms surrounding her, and looked over her shoulder to see the sleeping woman still holding her tightly; the heartbeat was strong against her back, the rising chest rhythmic, threatening to lull her back to sleep. Her eyes narrowed, and she reached for her dagger.

"Now why would you do that?" came the sultry voice, deepened by sleep. It blew warmth across Callisto’s back, stirring the invisible hairs there, and froze her. "My debt is already paid? How disappointing..." The woman continued sleepily. She ran one embracing arm down Callisto’s taut stomach, letting her fingers circle in the curly blond hair between the thighs. The fingers strayed further, and Callisto felt hot lips at her back, the delicate kiss turning into a searing bite. She moaned, and her back arched with the sensitive pain.

The indentured lover pulled the smaller woman beneath her, letting her breasts rub against her as she inched down her body, blazing a fresh trail of kisses as she went. She indulged herself, breathing in the yeasty musk of the woman, her favorite morning smell, before tasting her, her tongue plunging into her, eliciting a low, harmonic moan from both women. She spoke a wordless language into her, savoring her. "Do you always get this wet while you’re preparing to kill someone?" she asked.

Callisto tossed her body and pulled the mahogany curls, scratching at the broad, bare shoulders and arms that wound around her, fighting against the mounting orgasm as she could not do the night before, screaming shrilly against it as it approached, but the woman between her legs rode with her, looking up, her eyes dancing even as her tongue held steady to its mark, pushing her over the edge once again.

 

Chapter 3

The kiss woke her, warm and gentle on her forehead. Her eyes were soft as they opened, but hardened at the sight of the dressed warrior standing by the bedside. One hand flew up to grab the brown hand brushing back her bangs. "You’re going..." Callisto spoke, a dangerous tone in her voice.

The tall warrior smiled down at her, ignoring the iron grip on her wrist. "Yes. I have a job to do in a nearby village, but I should be back this evening."

"I’m moving my men out of here today. I want you to come with me."

The warrior shook her head, curls rustling around her face. "I can’t, I’m obligated."

Callisto’s brow furrowed. "I should’ve killed you last night," she spat.

"There’s no need to be so dramatic..." The warrior peeled the fingers from her wrist patiently. "We’ll see each other again." She leaned in to lay another kiss on Callisto’s brow, then kissed her hand before smiling one last time and leaving the room.

Callisto watched her go, frowning. She struck the bed and shrieked as the door shut behind the handsome warrior.

 

Chapter 4

Callisto was on horseback, riding across the line of her men. Her mare pranced with agitation, reacting to the heightened energy that her master always exuded before going into battle. "What are we going to do!" she yelled out across the ranks.

"Kill them all!" came the chorus of deep, male voices, savage with bloodlust.

"That’s right," she whispered, her smile chilling. Her eyes roved across the dirty faces of the men sworn to obey her, and the knowledge that they would gladly kill for her sent tremors through her with a sexual heat. She frowned briefly as unsummoned thoughts of the night and morning welled in her. She yanked her mare around to face the crest of the hill beyond which lay the small farming village, temporarily rich from sale of the harvest. "Haw!" she screamed, raising her sword up, signaling the attack. Her men surged, and she let her mare race forward in the lead.

As she neared the village, the hair on the back of her neck tingled. She looked closer, searching for the villagers that should have been in sight going about daily chores, but the roads were deserted. They were just past the first huts before she digested the situation: it was a trap. She pulled up and her horse reared; her men were pouring in around her. It was then that the huts burst into flames in a horseshoe around them. "Back!" she yelled, her men shouting and piling into each other with their momentum, those in the lead getting pushed into the encroaching flames with hideous screams.

"Back!" She turned her rearing horse, but flaming piles of hay catapulted in, cutting off the rear flank, leaving them surrounded by flame and thick smoke. Her men were panicking, becoming disoriented, huddling together like stupid oxen. "That way!" she screamed at them, reaching down to drag those within arm’s reach toward the only retreat, through the hay piles. When they resisted, she abandoned them in disgust, spurring her horse to plow a path over them, jumping the wall of burning hay and thick haze. Her horse landed amid heavy fighting. Those of her men who had escaped were being assaulted by villagers wielding axes and pitchforks, easy prey in their panic and confusion. She yelled in rage, swinging her sword and cutting down the villagers around her. She vaulted from her horse, running villagers through as they appeared from the haze. It seemed that only a few of her men were left on their feet.

A shift in the wind suddenly blew the smoke in another direction, and Callisto made out a small cluster of her men frantically defending themselves. Her eyes widened as she saw a hazy figure swinging a sword with the familiarly deft, powerful movements of her arch nemesis, her men crumpling before Xena. Callisto screamed her hysterical battle cry and rushed toward them even as the last man fell, the blade of the sword briefly appearing through his back before his gasping body was kicked off it. The tall warrior stepped forward to engage her, their swords clashing loudly.

Both women froze, the recent lovers shocked at the encounter. "You..." Callisto whispered. She ducked as she saw the warrior’s booted sole coming at her and saw it deflect the pitchfork that had been aimed at her back. It clattered from the hand of a rabid villager, the young man caught up in the fervor of the fight.

"No, leave her," the warrior commanded him.

But the villager wouldn’t be assuaged. "But she’s the leader, that’s Callisto!" he protested.

The warrior turned to the blond nymph with shock contorting her face. "Callisto?" she spoke the name in disbelief. With that, the young man lunged for her once again, but Memphus stopped his forward push with a forearm to his chest that left him gasping for breath. "I told you to leave her!" she yelled, her hands flashing out, her fingers like daggers to either side of his neck. He gurgled and sank to his knees. "You’ve been giving me problems all day, and I’ve had..." She crumpled as Callisto slammed the hilt of her sword into the back of her head.

Callisto smiled down at the horrified young man. "I believe the line is, ‘The flow of blood to your brain has been cut off. You’ll be dead in sixty seconds.’ Ta-ta." She whistled for her horse, hefting the unconscious warrior across it, then mounting behind her as the villager gurgled again before his world went black.

 

 

Chapter 5

"Wake up," Callisto snarled, slapping a thin stream of water across her captive lover’s face with her water skin. She repeated the procedure and was rewarded with the choked revival of Memphus, sputtering and coughing. Callisto watched her come to with cold detachment.

The revived warrior was groggy, and her head lolled back. Sensation flowed into her slowly: the dull, sick ache in her head, the pain in her arms, shoulders and back. She opened her eyes, looking up the long lines of her arms tied above her head to the low branch she was strung from. Only the balls of her feet touched the ground. She shivered and became aware of her nakedness. She sighed, wearily.

Callisto cleared her throat, drawing Memphus’ attention. "Good morning, sunshine," she sang dryly as the warrior settled slowly-focusing eyes on her. "I’ve been waiting for you to come to. I have a question for you: how do you come to be a friend of Xena’s, hmm?"

"Good morning to you, too...Callisto," the warrior answered, her tongue still thick from her forced sleep. "Tell you what, as imaginative as we could get in this position, I might feel more talkative if I were sitting, maybe having a bit of water."

"Tsk, tsk...you really shouldn’t toy with me..." Callisto sauntered closer to her, laying warm hands on the warrior’s bare hips. "...I’m not in the mood." With a push, she set the warrior twirling, the branch groaning with the shifting weight and the warrior answering as the movement put an extra strain on her sleeping limbs. Callisto watched her spin for a moment before stopping her with hands on hips. "Now, let’s try this again: how do you know Xena?"

"Fine, we’ll do it your way. I was with Xena’s army. Now untie me."

Callisto shook her head. "No...not just part of her army. Xena’s never taught anyone her pinch, not even her little girlfriend, Gabrielle. No...you must’ve been very close to her." Callisto’s eyes narrowed in dangerous fascination. "Why don’t you tell me about it."

A wry smile curled Memphus’ lips. "Oh, I don’t kiss and tell, Callisto, it’s not my style. Besides...who can recall any other women since you? Now why don’t you let me go and we can...talk."

Callisto smiled humorlessly. She stepped back to her horse, reaching into her saddle bag and extracting a long whip. She let it trail through the dirt behind her as she returned. She ran the butt of the whip down Memphus’ muscled stomach and between her legs, lightly, then back up, tracing a path along her hip to her back as she stepped behind her. She traced the thick white scars that criss-crossed the fine back with the forked tongue of the whip, her eyes dancing as she saw Memphus’ body stiffen. "Tell me, who did this? I’ve been admiring their handiwork as you slept. The whip can be a delicious toy, can’t it?" she purred. "Was this the work of an enemy...or the result of love gone bad? Xena, perhaps?"

Memphus shut her eyes tight for a moment, willing a regularity into her breathing and heartbeat. "Xena," was her curt answer.

Behind her, a low chuckle bubbled from Callisto’s depths. "My, my, my… More interesting by the minute...and so inspiring. Professionally, I have to say I admire her work, though Xena does leave ugliness in her path, doesn’t she? You had a most beautiful back before she disfigured you..." She ran her hands across the wide, muscled back. "But purity is so boring. I much prefer you this way. The scars give you a certain amount of character." Her fingers ran across the hardened tissue. "This is what Xena did to me, too, but my scars are on the inside. She gave me a lot of character," she said bitterly. "But let’s get on with this, shall we? Has Xena converted you into a do-gooder, too? I do hope you say no, because if you don't, it'll mean we can't be friends."

"Don’t be ridiculous," Memphus sighed. "I was paid to help those people defend themselves. Someone on your end leaked word about the raid. Which reminds me, I really should be going to pick up the second half of my payment, so if you’ll untie me, I’ll be on my way."

Callisto frowned. "So you’re just a mercenary...how very unimaginative of you with your skills. But I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly let you go. No...you’ve cost me several good men today -- a bad habit of yours -- and that debt’s not so quickly forgiven. You’ll be staying with me for awhile, dear, so I suggest you make yourself as comfortable as possible. By the way, I didn’t catch your name."

"Memphus. Charmed. I am sure."

"Oh, likewise," Callisto purred. "Memphus...I like that. But, Memphus, I could tell you were dismayed to learn my name. So, you’ve heard about me. Always a shock to learn that you’ve invited the insane into your life, isn’t it?" She grinned maniacally.

Memphus grinned back. "Not at all. Nothing better than a mad lover."

Callisto was mesmerized by the audacity of this woman, not the least bit inhibited by her nakedness or her position. It fascinated and infuriated her. She stepped up to her and lay one cheek against the graceful curve of the small of her back, feeling the touch of skin electric. "Uhm...you make me wet, Memphus, you really do..."

"Then cut me down...and let me start settling up with you," came the sultry voice.

Callisto pulled herself away. "No. I’m afraid I must insist on pleasure before business. It’s been such a long time since I’ve tortured Xena... I must admit that it just gets harder and harder to find innovative ways of doing that -- I’m bored with her little blonde. But to have in my possession another of Xena’s heartstrings, as I suspect you are... Well, I’m just feeling inspired! So, you’ll have to excuse me while I run a little errand. And just so you won’t be bored, if any of my men survived, I’ll send them by to watch over you. Don’t worry, they’ll be under strict orders not to hurt you...too much." Callisto smiled darkly before quickly mounting her horse and setting off at a gallop, leaving a thick plume of dust in her wake.

Memphus dropped her smoky smile. "Alright...that’s it for blondes," she muttered to herself. She began twisting her wrists in and out, the rope chafing and tearing at her skin, thin rivulets of blood running down her arms. Her eyes were hard and her jaw set, her breathing deep and even in concentration. Finally, she was able to turn both wrists so that she could wrap her hands around the rope. The distant thundering of hooves made her turn; three men approached on horseback. "Oh, may the gods damn that woman..."

As they drew near, Memphus could make out the rough black leather garb and the smoke-smeared sneers. Callisto’s men dismounted heavily, scattering dust around them. Their angry, hungry eyes perused the elongated form of the nude warrior.

"Callisto sent us to take care of you," one of the men brayed, blinking his reddened bug-eyes and running his tongue across thick, chapped lips greedily. His companions barked their laughter.

"I thought she said she was sending men," Memphus retorted coldly.

The bug-eyes narrowed. "Yeah, keep talking," he growled. "You’re just making me harder."

Memphus’ eyes focused pointedly on his crotch. "Okay, I will...but at this rate, Callisto’ll be back before your little soldier’s ready to march," she sneered, laughing. "Why don’t you let one of your buddies have a try."

The enraged soldier rushed at her but was met by the sole of Memphus foot, snapping his head back harshly and sending him into the ground. She began to swing her body to and fro, kicking her legs to build momentum; though she held to the rope, its tread tore further into her skin. The remaining two soldiers ran forward to grab the swinging woman as Memphus lifted her legs horizontal to the ground, opening them wide as she swung toward the men. They were transfixed by the sight. She snapped her legs shut, catching their necks in the crooks of her heels and slamming their heads together. They collapsed in a pile by their companion.

"Been a long time since you’ve seen a woman, boys?" Memphus chuckled momentarily before focusing herself on the task at hand. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she swung her legs back, then kicked them forward, curling them into her stomach before extending them up; she pushed off on the rope till her body was vertical, the muscles in her stomach, back and arms rippling with the effort, those in her thighs pronounced. She hooked the back of her knees over the branch, finally alleviating the strain from her wrists and arms. For moments she hung there, resting; her head throbbed, and the tree’s bark bit into the tender skin behind her knees. Then she began to pull at the knots around her wrists with her teeth, the blood that saturated them, her own, metallic in her mouth. She finished undoing the last knot just as the first man began to stir.

The bug-eyed soldier woke to see the naked warrior dropping down beside him lightly, her eyes hard. "No...please," he begged, one hand reaching desperately for his weapon.

"Why?" she asked dispassionately. "Do you have a wife, children?"

"Yes, yes," he sputtered, his eyes hopeful.

She showed no reaction. "You probably beat them." The heel of her foot came down hard, crushing his larynx. She lifted his sword and drew it across the throats of each of the two remaining men quickly, then turned toward her clothing folded neatly upon a rock and began to dress.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

The two women were facing each other, their chests heaving, sweat dripping from their brows and down their arms. They were in an open clearing in the woods, the deep green of short grass interspersed with delicate yellow flowers. The taller woman held a menacing sword, and with her dark leathers and raven hair she seemed a stark contrast to the lush, natural beauty. Her opponent wielded a thick staff, the red and yellow of her hair and her green and brown garb melding with the surroundings.

"Did you...or did you not...ask me to teach you...this new stroke?" the taller woman huffed.

The other woman tossed her long, sparkling hair haughtily. "Yes...I did... But how can you...expect me...to learn it...in one try?" she retorted.

"We’ve been doing this...all morning," the other woman growled.

"Yes...I know... And frankly...I’m ready...for lunch." The petite woman turned on her heel, heading back toward their camp. The hairs on her neck signaled her teacher’s silent approach. Her knees bent, and she was thrusting the staff’s butt behind her for a solid impact, then swiveling, bringing the staff’s other end around and up, catching the assailant under the chin and sending her backward onto the ground. Her eyes went wide. "Oh, Xena, I’m so sorry!" She dropped her staff and rushed to offer her groaning teacher a hand. "Are you..."

The dark warrior’s mask of pain slipped away as she grabbed the offered hand and yanked harshly, bringing the hilt of her sword up into the falling woman’s stomach; she pulled the smaller woman underneath her, still holding the hilt pointedly to her stomach, her ice blue eyes alight, her face contorted and menacing. The expression softened to frustration. "Gabrielle," she exclaimed, shaking her head, "how many times do I have to tell..." She froze as she saw her friend look past her, her hazel-green eyes widening. Letting her body drop and clutching the other woman, she rolled, their bodies spinning away; she rose quickly, bringing her sword up, ready to face the encroacher.

It was a young boy, rag-tag and dusty from travel. He was rooted where he stood in fear, doe eyes fixed on the sword’s tip, mouth open, chest heaving.

Xena’s stance relaxed; she cast a perplexed look at her companion.

Gabrielle rose to her knees, only slightly below eye-level with the child. "It’s okay," she crooned. "Nobody’s going to hurt you." She nudged Xena and the warrior grudgingly sheathed her sword, managing an awkward smile at the youngster. "You see?" Gabrielle continued. "What’s your name?"

"Dolina," the child rasped, eyes still wide.

"Dolina?" Gabrielle looked up at Xena. She reached out and removed the cap that sat, tipsily, atop the solitary child’s head. Long brown curls spilled out. "You’re a girl," she said, surprised. "And you sound like you could use some water," she added, standing. "Come on...let’s go get you some." She draped her arm around the child’s shoulders and headed back toward camp.

The tall warrior wore a concerned look. She picked up the abandoned staff and followed.

 

 

Chapter 7

"So, let me get this straight," Xena said, pacing; the child ate hungrily, worried eyes following the warrior above her sandwich. "A woman pulls you into an alley and says she’ll pay you to deliver a message to a warrior camping outside the city, me. She says her name is Memphus, that she needs my help to fight Callisto, that I have to hurry."

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes," she spoke through a mouth full of bread and cheese.

The warrior was shaking her head. "I don’t know...something’s not right... Why would she trust such an important message to a young child? If she knew I was camping out here, why didn’t she come to find me herself?"

Gabrielle rose from where she had sat watching the exchange with concern. "Xena," she said, laying a hand on the warrior’s shoulder and pulling her aside. "Why would this child lie to you? It looks like she comes from a very poor family: she’s wearing her brother’s hand-me-down’s. She was probably very glad to be able to earn some money for her family. And if Memphus didn’t come herself, maybe it was because Callisto was on her trail and she didn’t want to lead her to us, or because she had to stay hidden. I don’t know..." She fixed her eyes on the warrior’s. "But if Memphus is asking for your help, then she must be in serious trouble. She wouldn’t seek you out otherwise, you know that."

The warrior nodded, her brow furrowed. "Yeah...I know."

"So go to her. It’s probably dangerous for her to wait at that tavern. Dolina and I’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? We’ll be right behind you." The young woman put her hand up to the warrior’s cheek as she spoke, and it’s effect was to smooth the worried lines.

Xena turned her face and kissed the inside of the bard’s hand, already getting as callused as her own. "Okay. But stay alert. My gut’s telling me that something’s wrong here." She held the bard’s eyes fixed until Gabrielle nodded her agreement. They kissed lightly, then set about packing up their sparse camp.

They were rolling up their bedmats that had lain side by side, two sets of quickly-moving hands. Now they were at the end, binding the rolls. The warrior spoke casually, but the set of her jaw was tight. "Are you glad to be seeing Memphus again?"

Gabrielle met the ice blue eyes briefly before continuing with her work; Xena took the bedroll from her and cinched them to her horse’s saddle. "I don’t know," the bard finally answered. "I feel like she’s such a stranger, you know? Despite what...happened between us, I never got the chance to know her, to really see her. It’s funny that at the time I thought she was so much more open than you, but looking back, I don’t think she was. I can’t really explain it… It’s like she hid behind self-revelation. Does that make any sense?" Her eyes met Xena’s.

"No."

Gabrielle chuckled. "No, I guess it doesn’t... Anyway, the answer is that I have mixed feelings."

"Oh," Xena said. The rest of their work was completed in silence, then the warrior spoke more words of warning to the bard, kissing her lightly on the forehead, and set off for the city to meet Memphus.

 

 

 

Chapter 8

The bard and little girl walked hand in hand. Passers-by on the dusty road smiled at the young mother and cute child. Gabrielle smiled back, her worry over the warrior’s safety briefly overshadowed by the enjoyment of the assumed role of mother. The girl wore a more concerned expression; she pulled at Gabrielle's hand, leading her along at a quicker pace.

"Hey, slow down," Gabrielle admonished. "We have to pace ourselves. There’s still a little way to the city, and if we go too fast, you’re going to be tired and we’ll have to stop. That’ll take us longer. See?"

The dark-headed child shook her wild mane. "No," she insisted. "I won’t be tired. We have to hurry!" She renewed her pace, pulling Gabrielle behind her.

"Dolina..." the bard called in frustration.

"Gabrielle."

Goose pimples raced across the bard’s flesh at the voice. She turned to see the feline warrior leading a horse from the forest at the road’s edge. "Oh…Memphus," she stuttered. Her hand fluttered up to smooth down her hair, and she felt her face go hot under the warrior’s concentrated gaze, the deep brown of rich earth.

The warrior looked down at the little girl, a smile warming her face. "Who do we have here? Is this our little Xena, finally cut down to size by an offended god?" She smiled wickedly at Gabrielle before going down on one knee and holding out her hand. "Hi, there. My name’s Memphus. What’s yours?" Her smile fled as the little girl recoiled with eyes wide. She looked up to see a similar expression on Gabrielle’s face.

"You don’t know this little girl?" Gabrielle asked intently.

"No. Should I?"

Gabrielle closed her eyes against the sickening fear that filled her. "Oh, no...Callisto..."she whispered.

"Yes, Callisto. I came to warn you two that she’s on the prowl. Where is our favorite hero, anyway?" Memphus asked dourly, looking first up, then down the road for Xena.

"You didn’t run into her," Gabrielle asked in a small voice that was not quite a question.

"No. Gabrielle, what’s going on here?"

"And you didn’t send this girl for Xena."

"Of course not. Why would I send a child?" Rising, she put steadying hands on Gabrielle’s shoulders. "What’s going on, Gabrielle?" Suddenly her hand shot out, grabbing hold of Dolina’s retreating arm. "Oh, no you don’t..." She turned her attention on the struggling child. "Why did you tell them I sent you?"

"Let me go! I have to go help them!" the girl cried, pulling away as she attempted to peel Memphus’ strong fingers from her arm. She leaned back in and bit viciously.

Memphus released her, the girl pinwheeling and falling. The warrior quickly stepped in and grabbed the back of the child’s jacket and shirt, lifting her off the ground. "Dolina," she said calmly. The child continued to flail, and Memphus gently shook her. "Dolina!" She shook her again until the child grew momentarily calm. Memphus set her down, again kneeling so that they were eye to eye, her big hands pinning the girl’s twiggy arms to her sides. "Dolina, listen to me. You seem like a very scared little girl. Gabrielle and I will help you, we’re not mad at you, but first you have to tell us what really happened. The truth." Her voice was calm, soothing, and she nodded her head gently until the child was doing the same. "Good." She relaxed her grip on the child, turning to reach for the water skin strung from the saddle horn. She opened it, handing it to the girl. "Okay, have a drink. Then sing, little bird, tell us what happened from the beginning. Go slow."

Dolina was nodding, wiping a dribble of water from her chin. She began to talk, her reedy voice fraught. "A woman was following me in the market. I got away from her and ran home. In the night, she came and tied everyone up. She told me that a woman named Xena was outside the city, and that I had to find her and give her the message…"

"What was the message?" Memphus interrupted.

"‘Memphus says Callisto is after her and she needs Xena’s help. To come right away to meet her at the tavern before it’s too late." The girl waited for a signal to go on.

"‘Before it’s too late’?" Memphus prompted.

The little seemed to go rigid. "I had to give her the message and make sure she comes to the tavern or she would hurt them. I have to be back before it gets dark. That’s why we have to hurry."

Memphus sighed tenderly, looking up at the bard. Gabrielle was pale as she understood the implications -- the woods were already darkening around them.

"Gabrielle, Dolina and I are going to get to that city as fast as we can. You keep moving. Stick to the edge of the road, but duck into those woods if you hear anyone coming. Don’t stop for anyone, you hear me? Get to the city as fast as you can. But don’t go into that tavern -- wait across from it." She put a hand on the bard’s bare shoulder with penetrating warmth. "You swing that staff if you need to -- don’t hesitate. There are some ugly characters around her. Okay, I’ll see you soon." She mounted her horse, quickly and gracefully, reaching down for the child. "Dolina?" She swung her up, seating her in front. With one last look at the bard, she spurred her horse, and they were off, quickly disappearing into the distance.

Gabrielle began a quick pace, moving close to the edge of the road, her ears twitching as the tree-lined road grew darker.

 

 

Chapter 9

The warrior hitched her horse outside the tavern slowly, her eyes sharp beneath the dark, concealing cloak, scanning the area. There seemed to be nothing out of the usual for a small city. She pushed on the tavern door cautiously, nervously waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light inside as she stepped in.

It was the cackling that drew her attention. She ducked and rolled away from the door, her hand brushing away the cloak to draw her sword as she rose. She wielded it in front of herself, her eyes darting to the sound of the laughter.

All activity in the bar had ceased. All eyes were upon her, mouths open. From the corner, there suddenly came another burst of wild laughter. "Xena...why so jumpy?" Callisto was again seated in her corner, her feet propped up on the table nonchalantly. "Are you here to join us in a drink?" She held up her mug in salute before slamming it back, wiping the froth from her mouth with the back of a dainty hand.

"Where’s Memphus?" Xena questioned, her tone dangerous.

"Memphus? You mean the lay of the land, don’t you, that hot brunette? Well, I don’t know. She told me to meet her here. It’s been a long time since I had that much fun in the sack, so I couldn’t resist. But she stood me up, so I’m having some fun on her tab. Want a drink?" Callisto smiled tipsily.

Xena scowled disapprovingly. "No, thanks."

Callisto fixed an unsteady gaze on the doorway. "Hey…where’s the annoying little blonde? Don’t tell me you left her behind in these parts, Xena. You never know how many of your skeletons might rise from the dead to grab her while she’s wandering around alone!" She stroked the face of the soldier whose lap she sat on, then screamed, her voice high and shrill. When all eyes were on her, she said, quietly, "Barkeep, another ale, please." She smiled at Xena. "Now, if you’re not going to have a drink with me, go away. I’m not in the mood for fighting tonight." She turned away and ignored the warrior.

Xena sheathed her sword in confusion. She left the tavern, her eyes darting back to Callisto warily, but the elfin warrior was still perched atop the soldier’s lap, fawning over him dangerously.

 

 

Chapter 10

Memphus reigned the horse in a few huts down from the one the child had pointed at. The horse was streaked with sweat, and the huge animal was heaving after it’s hard run, nostrils flaring noisily. She jumped down, hitching the horse and swinging the child down in her arms. "You wait there," she ordered, pointing down an alley. "Don’t come in until I come say it’s okay, alright?" The girl nodded frantically, leaning her little weight against the tall warrior, pushing her toward the home. Night was falling around them, casting the city into dark shadows. Glancing down at Dolina one last time, Memphus pressed a finger to her lips to remind her to keep silent, then unsheathed her sword delicately, the metal rasping out a slow hiss. She stole toward the doorway on silent feet, and after taking a quick glance inside the open door, she disappeared inside the dark opening.

The light inside the small abode was dim, and Memphus let her eyes close to adjust to it. She listened intently, but her sharp ears picked up no sound except for the distant chatter of a scolding mother from a nearby home. She breathed deep before opening her eyes.

Each family member sat where Dolina had probably left them -- father, mother, young brother -- in chairs around the table. Their heads were bowed, as if they were offering thanks for a meal, the perfect portrait, but they were bound hand and foot, and rags jammed their mouths. Blood stained dark pools down their chests like bloody bibs, and the crusted arcs of their slit throats were only the hints of shadows beneath their ears.

"Damn you, Callisto," the warrior whispered, her face grave, her head shaking, "damn you..."

There was a tiny, sharp intake of breath, and Memphus whirled to see the horrified face of the girl peering in a window. Silent tears streamed down her dirty cheeks. The face receded.

"Dolina!" Memphus called, chasing the fleeing figure into the street. The child turned down an alley and was gone. Memphus searched up and down the streets, finally stopping. She stood in the darkening street, her arms dangling at her sides.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

Xena had been sitting on the rooftop across from the tavern for the better half of the afternoon waiting for Gabrielle and the child to arrive or for Callisto to leave. She watched townsmen go in and out. The hard spot in her stomach that signaled something wrong was growing. She decided to backtrack and meet the pair at the edge of the city.

The mounted warrior had passed out of the city without seeing the pair. She rode slowly, her eyes scanning the road ahead, dim in the moonlight, and the dark forest. Her eyes caught the light from another branch strewn at the edge of the road, but this was even more the familiar shape. She stopped her horse and dismounted lightly, the pressure in her stomach sickening. It was the staff, heavy in her hand, so familiar, replete with the bard’s energy. But no bard. Xena could make out the faint smudge on one end. Blood. Gabrielle had not gone easily, would never leave her staff behind willingly. Her eyes caught something else, a faint lightening in the dusty road. A piece of cloth, half-trampled. She gently removed it, her thick fingers shaking it off and confirming what her eyes could scarcely make out, the embroidered pattern so very distinct, a gift she’d chosen for Memphus many years ago.

"Gabrielle..." the warrior breathed, and she was scared again by how her past broke into her present, threatened her future.

By make-shift torch light, Xena scoured the area where she’d found the staff and handkerchief, struggling to distinguish between the tracks of man and beast, travelers, herself and Argo, and the abductor. Where were the child’s tracks? Had Gabrielle been carrying her? It was unclear, but it seemed that someone had arrived on horseback then departed with more weight in the saddle.

 

Chapter 12

The tavern door flew open, and the raven-haired warrior strode in, a grim resoluteness setting her regal features in stone. Callisto’s eyes flew to her; she guarded her pleasure as she noted the disembodied staff in Xena’s hand. She let the smile tug at her lips now. "Xena...back so soon? And where’s your little friend, hmm? Lost on her way to grandmother’s house?"

Xena walked to the corner where Callisto sat. She stood silently in front of her table.

Callisto waved away the two soldiers that accompanied her and motioned for Xena to sit. "It looks as if you have something to say, Xena. Why don’t you say it."

The warrior blinked slowly, and for a moment, Callisto faltered at the anguish she saw concealed there. "Where’s Memphus?" Xena asked, and there was a tremor in her voice like the reverb of a sword’s clash.

Callisto only faltered for a moment. "Oh, Xena, you know I don’t kiss and tell. I..." The staff was against her throat in the time it had taken her to bat her eyes coyly, the cartilage of her larynx straining under its pressure.

"I need to know where she is," the warrior hissed. "If you know where she is..." The warrior trailed off as she watched Callisto’s eyes drop closed and her body go slack, the sickly-sweet smell of baby’s breath washing over her as she released a sigh. Death held no tender here, and the warrior withdrew the staff, slowly, painfully, letting it fall to her side. "If you know where she is," she repeated with strained voice, "please...tell me."

Emotions flickered across Callisto’s countenance in rapid succession: disappointment, relief, pity, spite. "Now Xena, you know that everything comes with a price. What will you give me if I tell you? We know death is out."

The warrior’s jaw clenched and unclenched. "What do you want, Callisto? There’s no time to play games."

"Yes, you’re very right: no time. But deciding what I want deserves a lot of thought, so what to do, what to do... Oh, I know," she said in mock inspiration, "I tell you what you want, and you promise to do me the favor of my choosing, whenever it might occur to me. Agreed?"

Xena’s body stiffened, and her rage threatened to overwhelm her. "No! Name your price now!" she bellowed.

Callisto’s smile didn’t touch her eyes. "That is my price. Take it or leave now. And before visions of torture start dancing through your head, let’s just get realistic: even if you could get me alone, you wouldn’t get anything out of me that I didn’t want to give. We both know that, so let’s not waste time, okay?"

The warrior nodded stiffly, and her voice was as dry and barren as the desert. "Okay... Okay."

Delight dripped from the edges of Callisto’s smile. "Okay," she purred. "Now we can talk business. I’ve been inquiring about our curly-locked lover myself...we have a little unfinished business, too. Word is she’s been spending time with a woman called Eleni who has a place about a thirty-minute ride from here. I was thinking of showing up at dawn and...surprising them. But I’ll tell you what, Xena, I’ll ride there with you right now. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?"

Suspicious creases folded around the sapphire eyes. "Why would you do that for me?"

Callisto’s eyes twinkled. "It’s quite simple: the favor you do for me...well, I’m going to make it good. So fair’s fair: I’ll help you now. Don’t let it trouble your do-gooder sensibilities, Xena, I won’t give more than I’ll get."

"No, of course you won’t. Let’s go." The statuesque warrior turned and strode out too quickly to see Callisto’s curt nod to her lieutenant. She bounced up from her seat cheerily and followed after Xena at an unhurried pace.

 

Chapter 13

Memphus threw open the tavern door and searched the dirty, lined faces for the one that would stand out, too pretty and bright. But there was no sign of Callisto, only her soldiers, men with hard, haggard faces that drunken smiles couldn’t soften. She approached the one with what passed as the most bearing in that crowd: the loudest, alcohol-enhanced bravado. "You Callisto’s man?"

"Yes," he answered haughtily, rising to his full height and squaring his shoulders confidently.

"Good." There was a sharp popping as Callisto twisted his wrist and pulled it behind his back, and he cried out. She used the broken wrist to leverage him down, his cheek slamming into the table top. "You tell me where she is and you do it now, before I start snapping the rest of the bones in your arm." She raised her voice. "And tell these sweaty bastards to stay away. I could snap your neck before the first one touched me."

The grimacing lieutenant widened his eyes at the men in his sight and they backed up, pulling others with them. "Okay," he choked out. "I’ll tell you. Xena took her. She came here and said you had kidnapped her lover, so she was going to take yours. I was supposed to tell that to a woman who came asking. I guess that’s you. She said that she took care of the little traitor’s family..."

"Xena did?" Memphus broke in, twisting the wrist half a degree that pulled a scream from the burly man’s throat.

"Yes! Yes! She said she knew about Eleni and would kill them both unless you brought her lover back!"

"Hades, what has Xena done.." Memphus jumped onto the table top, then leapt up and over the crowds of Callisto’s soldiers, the tavern doors swinging behind her as she sprinted out. She sprang into her saddle and tapped her heels in twice, setting off for the woodland at a frantic gallop.

 

Chapter 14

"There’s no one here." The dark-haired warrior’s penetrating eyes probed the dark hut, looking for the barest glimmer of light like a silent hope, but finding none. She and Callisto had tied their horses in the woods, the obedient animals only snorting quietly after such a hard ride, and the women crept to within feet of the modest home, keeping low and still behind the overgrowth that ringed it.

"No, look," Callisto whispered, "there’s a candle burning in that room. Wait... Yes, there."

Xena nodded, finally making out the occasional flicker that the breeze cast their way. "Okay. I’m going through that window. You go around through the other side." She grabbed Callisto’s shoulder as the woman turned away. "And you leave Memphus for me," she hissed.

"That," Callisto answered, "wasn’t part of the deal. Besides, I want her alive: she’s a delicious plaything. You let me have my pleasures, Xena, you’ve taken all the others."

Xena gave a curt, grudging nod. "Fine. But if Gabrielle is hurt, I might have to give her to you in pieces." With that, the warrior was gone, cutting through the night and heading for the faint glimmer that she prayed signaled her missing companion. Callisto began to move as well. The two women were only pale shadows slicing through the dark.

Once out of Xena’s eyesight, Callisto’s careful skulk sped into a run, and she dove into the appointed rear window, uncoiling out of her tumble sleekly. In the dark room, two sets of wide eyes fixed on her, their owners bound and gagged, propped against the wall; Callisto’s teeth glinted as she smiled. She knelt to the left figure. "Hello, Eleni," she whispered, "Memphus wanted me to give you something." The dagger plunged silently into the woman’s softly-rounded belly. Callisto gave it a twist, and a muffled moan slipped past the rags filling the woman’s mouth. The dagger swung a second time, tearing a clean gash across the throat. She lowered the lifeless body to the dirt floor and cupped her small, callused hands under the cascading blood, pressing it to her chest, the crimson syrup rolling down her leather. She wiped another streak of it down her chin and neck. She saw the remaining pair of reflecting eyes following her movements and chuckled silently. "In time, in time," she whispered. She pulled the gag out of the draining body and used it to clean her hands, then tucked the stained rag down her bodice; she quickly undid the bindings around the dead woman’s wrists and ankles, tucking the thongs into a hidden pocket of her skirt.

Then she turned to the second bound figure who was squeaking through her gag. "Oh, shut up," she said flatly, grabbing a fistful of the heavy copper hair and pulling the woman to her. She slammed the hilt of the dagger into the back of her skull and lowered the dead weight to the floor. Prying open the delicate jaws and removing the gag, she emptied a small vial deep into the throat and massaged the outside roughly, replacing the gag. "There. That will keep our little songbird from singing," she murmured. She withdrew another dagger from a hidden sheath and laid it by the dead woman’s hand, then began to back away, but stopped suddenly, returning to the unconscious woman’s side, and taking her into her arms and cradling her head, whispered harshly, "Xena!" She felt the warrior’s cloaked entrance into the room before she stepped into the silver glow that was just beginning to filter in through the trees and window as the moon’s light broke through night clouds. She thanked the moon goddess for affording her the pleasure of Xena flinching at the sight of them, her body going rigid with fear.

"Is she..."

Callisto’s response came after an almost imperceptible, delicious delay. She waited until the sapphire eyes met hers and wallowed in the agony she saw there. "No...just unconscious. She’s dead," she said, a toss of her head casually indicating the prone body.

Outside, the night continued to lighten as the moon broke free and filled the sky. Visibility spread across the room, and revealed the dead woman, a delicate beauty with soft facial angles that flowed into the curve of shoulder and hip and buttock. The light green of the wide, staring eyes still held their luster, as if the woman had only then awakened. But a widening pool of blood crept slowly out from under her chin and dispelled the illusion as they watched, and she was dead after all.

The passing of beauty did not interest the warrior. She was silently joyous, quickly moving to find out if the bard was sound. She took Gabrielle’s limp body from Callisto and laid it in her own lap, letting sensitive fingers explore the familiar territory of head and body, ready to detect any damage. She found only the knot at the base of her skull and a crusted split on her cheek. A relieved sigh cleared the warrior’s concerned lungs.

"Is your precious intact?" Callisto asked.

The look Xena aimed at Callisto was one of tired consideration. "Yes." The warrior gently settled Gabrielle onto a blanket across the room, wrapping one end of it across her, where she could watch the bard and give her distance from Callisto, as was habit. She returned to squat by the blond warrior.

"Well, I can’t tell you how relieved I am. We wouldn’t want any harm to come to your young lover, would we? Imagine how lost you’d be, Xena," she sang, ignoring the warrior’s glare. "So now we sit and wait for your old lover, do we?"

"Oh yes...we’ll wait."

"Wonderful. We can use this time to catch up." Callisto twirled an unkempt blond tress around her fingers. "So, Xena, what have you been doing since the last time I tried to crush your soul?"

Xena cast her a sideways glance. "Oh...a little of this, a little of that. Anything to kill time till you came back."

A saccharine smile broke over Callisto’s face. "Yes, that’s what I’ve always suspected.

The dark warrior groaned quietly and wearily as she pressed her back flat against the walls, altering her squatting position; she rolled her neck, loosening it. "And you? What have you been doing?" She cloaked her curiosity.

The blonde laughed softly, a subtle hysteria always a shrill undertone to her voice. "I wait, too. And plan, for the next time I find you. Wait and plan, wait and plan... Oh sure, I have to take a little village here and there to keep my men fed. And in practice: rusty killers are just no good. Neither are bored ones. But mostly I think of you, Xena. Did you know that?"

Xena looked at the woman beside her with the child’s eyes, so deceptive. A chill gripped her as she looked deeper into the depths of those eyes, making her turn away. She said nothing.

Callisto frowned at that, but her eyes stayed on the warrior, traveling the length of her body, watching the lashes trap the sharp, sapphire eyes. "Did you know that I’ve spent almost my entire life thinking about you, Xena? And that for so many years I’ve followed you, watched you, imitated you? Practice, practice, practice...

"Well, maybe you did know. It’s quite obvious, I suppose... Quite easy to figure out, really: the sum of your destruction, a simple equation... But I’ll tell you something you could never guess, how’s that? Something to pique your curiosity: I’ve only ever had three lovers. Three, Xena. I can count the souls of those who’ve had intimate knowledge of my body on the little fingers of one hand." She ticked them off, the imaginary count.

"And I suppose that’s my fault, too," the dark warrior broke in with a sigh.

Anger flashed across Callisto’s face. "Yes, Xena. Yes."

"Of course." The warrior brushed the dark, sticking bangs from her forehead harshly.

Callisto stood haughtily and began to pace. With veiled, cautious eyes, Xena tracked her.

"My first lover was the son of the people that took me in after you killed my family, Xena. You remember that, don’t you, the night you barbecued my loved ones? He was a distant cousin, but he wanted to be a lot closer. I was only 12. He climbed on top of me and held me down. It was a truly disgusting experience, but such is the plight of woman, isn’t it? However...do you know what the worst part about it was, Xena?" She leveled her gaze at the warrior.

"What," Xena whispered, inwardly flinching not only at the thought of what would come next, but at the way Callisto had of pronouncing her name, like no other. The warrior had heard every human emotion conveyed in the speaking of her name: love, lust, hatred, respect, adulation, terror. But somehow, Callisto managed to capture all of them and add an unparalleled sensuousness; the sound always erected the hair on her neck and arms, for different reasons.

Callisto’s eyes flickered with mania, and she leaned down to Xena’s eye level. "The worst part about it was that I felt nothing. Nothing," she repeated, her child’s mouth punctuating each syllable. "Nothing on my lips...nothing on my breasts...nothing between my thighs... And that’s why I took his mother’s butchering knife and drew it across his throat afterward. He was sleeping, the poor little lad...exhausted. Spent." She cackled with delight at the memory. "And that’s when I felt it, Xena! That’s when I knew! Because before that, I was so sad, Xena, so so sad. ‘Poor little me, what was going to happen to me, what else could possibly happen to me?’" she whined, mocking the child she’d been. The devilish smile returned, curling her lips up in a sneer. "But I knew that nothing would ever happen to me again. Nothing, because I knew how to make it happen to other people. And I knew that the person who I wanted it to happen to most of all was you." Her teeth gleamed as she smiled at the warrior, their faces inches apart, and she touched a fingertip to Xena’s nose, daintily.

The warrior snorted and batted it away. "One down," Xena led, sarcastically.

Callisto stood again. "Ah, yes. Well, the second one I’m not sure even counts: I was in your body after all. And with a god, no less, but still, nothing."

"And this one you couldn’t kill," the warrior said with distaste, the nonexistent memory still inspiring regret.

"Yes, well I’m working on that," Callisto answered, dismissively.

"Three times the charm, they say," Xena prompted.

Callisto grew still. "That’s why I’m here."

"Memphus." Xena answered for her, but there was nothing from Callisto, and her eyes seemed remote.

After a pause, the animation returned. "Tell me, Xena, do you ever pleasure yourself?"

There was an annoyed, put-upon look from the warrior, and she answered, her voice dripping with disgust, "Why don’t you clean yourself up..."

Callisto dragged one finger across the crusting blood on her cheek and brought it to her lips, her tongue sampling it. "Why ever would I do that, Xena? Don’t you think it suites me? I do. The black of death, the red of blood...it really is me. Or wait, could it be that the sight of me covered in blood is too tempting for you? Is that from whence your annoyance springs, Warrior Princess? Does it please you to see me this way, too much for your newly-found conscience to bear? Or maybe it excites you..."

"You wish," the warrior sneered.

Callisto looked thoughtful. "Why yes, yes I do." She brought more blood to her lips, and her tongue lingered there. Her large eyes opened to the warrior’s languidly, and held the sapphire stare. "They say that only the finest line divides love from hate, Xena...a hair’s breadth..." She leaned in to the warrior and touched her finger to Xena’s lips, "...and the way we hate..."

The warrior wrapped her large hand around Callisto’s, pulling it away smoothly. "I don’t hate you, Callisto."

Fury flashed across the blonde’s face, and she jerked her hand away. "Oh, spare me! Spare me your pity, Xena!" She whirled and stalked across the room, the suddenly waved it away. "Never mind...we’re still talking about me, aren’t we? Anyway, as vain as you are, I’m sure no one else does you better." She grew quiet. "I tried it... I wanted to know what the big deal was about. All over, people do the stupidest things, risk everything, just for sex. But I felt nothing. Nothing... Not like when I kill."

Callisto had been pacing, the shadows that twisted across her face as she spoke, always the hysterical edge, defying the morning light. The warrior was still, but her eyes followed the blond manic back and forth, back and forth; periodically, they would look beyond to the bard, serene and timeless near the wall, sleeping. Xena watched both women closely, the rise and fall of each chest; the bard’s breathing created a legato pace that filled the spaces between Callisto’s shallow shrills. She watched and listened, and these two women played out an oddly beautiful music to her, each a counter-melody to the other, and the warrior’s own life force the strong, unswerving bass that carried it all along. There, a flutter of the eyelids. The warrior was up and slipping past Callisto.

The interruption stopped Callisto mid-sentence, and she watched the warrior move past her with an annoyed gape. Had she even been listening? Had she heard anything?

"Gabrielle?" Xena brushed the bronze hair from her forehead. "Gabrielle, can you hear me?" The bard groaned in response. "I’m here, you’re safe," the warrior reassured. "Wake up now," she prompted gently.

"Oh, I think I’m going to be sick," Callisto muttered to herself, swiveled and stomped to the window, her back to the offending scene of warrior ministering to bard. Elbows on the sash, she began scraping under her ragged fingernails with the tip of her dagger.

"Xena?" The voice was faint, muddled, very far from the trained speaking instrument of an orator. When the green eyes fluttered open, it was the warrior’s squinting, tender smile they saw. The weak return smile that had begun to brighten her face suddenly faded, and she gave a violent start as her pupils constricted and took in the blond warrior at the window, staring back with a calculating, emotionless, feline gaze.

"No, no, it’s okay," Xena crooned while she gently forced the petite bard back down. Gabrielle had moaned at the sudden movement and now fought to sit; she leaned over Xena’s bracing arm to throw up, her body retching violently. "Okay, lay back down... There you go." The warrior dabbed at the bard’s lips with the rag that had formerly been her gag.

At the window, Callisto rolled her eyes, but had enjoyed eliciting the guttural reaction. "How nice to see you, too, Gabrielle," she purred.

The warrior shot her a threatening glare, a habitual reaction that had no effect on its recipient but to broaden her smile. Xena turned back to her patient. "Relax, Gabrielle, she helped me find you. How’s the head?"

"No, no she...she killed..." the bard stammered, and there was fear and accusation and outrage in her eyes, but they soon clouded over; Callisto’s brow knit.

The dark warrior looked between the two women. "Who did she kill?"

The bard shook her head once gingerly. "I...I don’t know." Callisto turned back to the window to shield her satisfaction.

"Just try and be still, okay?" the warrior implored, but her head snapped around. Callisto had side-stepped lithely and flattened herself against the wall. She was reaching for her sword, and a devious smile stretched her face. She raised her eyebrows in a silent gesture to Xena. The warrior whispered, "Stay here and stay quiet," by Gabrielle’s ear, then crouched and drew her own sword.

Gabrielle was alarmed and confused by the unnatural alliance, hazy memories dancing just beyond her consciousness and making her feel unsettled. She fought against an increasing heaviness that was pulling her eyes shut.

Callisto began moving toward the doorway.

"Callisto!" Xena whispered harshly. "What are you doing?"

Callisto stopped, innocently. "I was going to get the door, of course. Or do you prefer I stay here and guard our little darling?" She twirled the tip of her sword between her teeth innocently.

The warrior narrowed her eyes and looked away in concession. "Go ahead," she whispered, "but remember our agreement."

"You remember it: she remains intact. I’ll herd her in here so you can have your fun, but then she’s mine." Callisto slid into the other room.

Xena watched her go, then pricked her ears and other senses, her body coiled with anticipation, but her breathing and heartbeat slowing as she prepared for battle.

In the front room, Callisto was working quickly. She left the door ajar, then seated herself against the opposite wall. She pulled the gag, warm, from her bodice, and forced it into her mouth, the coppery taste of blood pleasing. Then she pulled the leather thongs from her pocket and slipped her wrists into the double nooses, pulling her arms apart to cinch them. She let her body slump over uncomfortably, and waited.

Only seconds passed before the scent that had ingrained itself into her penetrated her nostrils again, more that the phantom smell that had been haunting her. She felt her flesh prickle and hoped Memphus wouldn’t notice her body’s reaction.

"Callisto?" came the whisper.

Callisto let her eyes open lazily, then crinkle with relief. Memphus held a finger to her lips and withdrew her dagger from its sheath in her boot. It was poised at the bindings around Callisto’s wrists when she was interrupted.

"You always did work fast." It was Xena’s voice, a low growl from the doorway.

Memphus threw her body sideways, coiling into a tight somersault and rising to a crouch. "Where’s Eleni?" Her mahogany eyes were set hard.

Xena stepped from the entrance meaningfully, and Memphus looked past her to the pale legs that lay askew, afloat in a pool of blood, framed in the doorway. Her face went ashen and her breath rushed away from her, the whisper of ‘Eleni’ carried out of her lungs. She seemed to sink within herself, but then her eyes fixed onto Xena’s and it drew her out again, the dark warrior watching the grief that reshaped Memphus’ body without compassion. Rage filled her like the breath of life. "She was innocent," Memphus hissed.

"Hades will be the judge of that."

Memphus batted the hot tears that spilled from her eyes roughly and without shame. "It’s always when I think I can forgive you, Xena, that you remind me why I never will."

A cold sneer twisted the warrior’s face. "How long can you people keep that up, blaming me for the things you’ve brought upon yourselves? Eleni died trying to carry out your plans. It was you who killed her."

"And how long can you keep condemning others for their inability to forgive the atrocities you commit, Xena? Are you going to blame the little girl for her family’s death, too?" Memphus’ hand flew up from her side, the dagger whistling through the air toward Xena’s chest, the lean warrior following in its path, crossing the room in long, smooth strides to land a leaping kick solidly onto Xena’s exposed ribs as she swung her sword to deflect the projectile. Caught off balance, Xena stumbled backward into the wall. She narrowly blocked the spinning thrust that was Memphus’ follow up.

And the warriors fought.

Callisto indulged herself. From her seated position, her eyes followed the two warriors as they danced, the clash of their heavy blades, their growls and curses, the heat that came off their bodies and filled the room with their scent. For a moment, she simply watched, and if her hands had not been bound, she may not have been able to keep from clapping them together like a gleeful child.

They were truly magnificent, these fighters, as only failed lovers could be, turning the once familiar territory of each others’ bodies into lethal knowledge. The intimacy showed in the way they circled each other, even in the way their fists made contact, the movement that was once a gentle caress now perverted, magnified, accelerated into a flesh-splitting touch. It was a natural beauty, the terrifying grace of a battle for life and for death, so supple. A celebration of mortality.

But she had to keep things under control, couldn’t let them go too far. She’d misjudged Memphus’ abilities yet again, she found to both her dismay and pleasure; she’d expected Xena to subdue Memphus quickly and without any real threat to either of their lives, but they were more evenly matched than she’d imagined and therefore more dangerous to each other. It just wouldn’t do.

Callisto worked her hands free from the trick knots, pulled the gag from her mouth, and stood, picking up her sword nondescriptly as she watched for her chance. She saw it and stepped in, entering her sword in the fray just as Xena’s slashed down toward Memphus’ brow and Memphus brought her own sword up, crossways, to block it. In that moment, Memphus relaxed infinitesimally, seeing an ally come to her defense; the sapphire eyes opened wide in surprise and anger. But Callisto let the force of Xena’s blow knock the hilt of her sword back into Memphus’ face, striking her a blow across the chin that snapped her head sideways; her eyes rolled up in her head as her knees buckled and she folded to the ground.

Xena leveled an accusatory glare at the blonde. "What in Hades were you trying to do?"

Callisto smiled and blew a white cloud of powder off the sudden platform of her hand directly into Xena’s angry face; the panting warrior inhaled it before she could react, the powder also settling into her eyes, stinging painfully. Xena stumbled away from Callisto, raising her sword up in front of her while trying to brush away the irritating powder that thick tears were trying to flush from her eyes. The effect was a swimmy double vision that still could not disrupt the slash of Callisto’s smug red smile, the blonde standing over her dazed lover, watching as Xena backed away into the wall where she slid down, tearing at her eyes and sniffling before losing consciousness.

Chapter 15

"Wake up." It was the smooth, flat tone that was Callisto’s. The side of her boot tapped the bard’s ribs twice, sharply. Noticing no response, she tore her gaze from where it had been fixed for the last hour and looked down at the unconscious bard in irritation. She knelt, taking the child-like face in her hands. "Wake up," she repeated, slapping her crisply three times.

"Uh... Wha..." The bard jerked awake, Callisto’s expressionless face inches from her own. She pulled her head away in alarm, managing to keep her voice even as she said, "Oh. It’s you again."

Callisto shrugged as the bard’s chin slipped from her hands. She sat back on her haunches. "It’s always me, Gabrielle, or haven’t you noticed? Anyway, are you completely with us now? I need a sounding board." The warrior stood and began pacing, twirling a braided blond tress in her fingers.

The bard tried to rub her head, but both hands rose, bound. She noticed that her feet were bound as well. "Callisto, what are you doing?"

"Hmm?" the blonde purred, distracted, and saw the bard holding her bound wrists up with a questioning look. A smile broke across her face. "Oh...that’s nothing," she brightened, crouching behind and turning the bard, directing her field of vision; her head rested warmly on Gabrielle’s shoulder as she enjoyed the bard’s gasp. "Yes...is it breathtaking, isn’t it?

Their naked, elongated bodies were stretched taut between floor and ceiling by cords strung from the rafters that bound their wrists and cords anchored in the floor that pulled at their ankles, their fleshtones complementary, one warrior with a warm tan, the other with caramel skin, naturally rich. Their shoulders hunched upward around their ears; their hips were sharp protrusions flaring from the creases of their tightly drawn legs; their ribcages, shadowed arches that their breasts rested upon and their tight stomachs sank within. In their mouths, crimson silk scarves were stuffed, the color accenting the earthy reds of their nipples, firm to the invading air. Their eyes, sapphire and brown, both pairs burning, shone down on them as Callisto and Gabrielle looked up in awe, even the bard rendered speechless at the sight; she would agonize later over her scrolls, wanting each word to catch the exact shade, the exact shadow.

"You...wanted...to talk...to me..." Gabrielle murmured.

Callisto’s arms had encircled the bard as they’d taken the sight in, hanging loosely around her now. "Yes, I did. You see, I have quite a dilemma, and surprisingly enough, I wanted your opinion." She looked pointedly around into the bard’s eyes before standing again and resuming her pacing, spinning lightly on her heels as she reached the end of her course.

The bard had turned back to the suspended warriors, and she saw now the bright red lines around their wrists and ankles, the trickles of blood dried in midcourse down their arms; she wondered how long the warriors had struggled there, trying to loosen their bindings and only succeeding in rubbing their skin raw. She could see that their breathing was strained. Xena locked her eyes intently, and the bard anguished, not understanding what the warrior was trying to communicate.

"So, my dilemma..." Callisto was saying. "Well, I have both these women ‘right where I want them,’ as they say. And I had the most lovely plan cooked up; I won’t go into details, it was very complicated. Besides, who’s to say I won’t use it again, sometime?" She smiled devilishly. "But it just doesn’t feel right. Something’s just not right..." The hand she wove in her hair was tugging as she frowned. She looked back up at the women for a moment, then continued walking.

She stopped suddenly and changed direction, continuing into the other room. A dragging sound preceded her re-entry; she pulled the body of Eleni by one ankle behind her. Light, vibrating twangs drew their eyes back to the warriors where Memphus was twisting and pulling, the cords sounding, tears of rage and mourning pouring from her eyes; Xena watched her with a frown.

"Now, now," Callisto purred, her eyes upward, "you’ll just tire yourself out, my darling. I’m going to need you in good shape for later." The blond warrior propped the hardening body by Gabrielle, who shrunk away. "Oh, don’t be afraid, Gabrielle...the dead can hear your thoughts, but you only ever have good ones, don’t you, so you don’t have anything to worry about. As far as what Eleni here thinks about you, well, I guess her mother raised her right: she isn’t saying anything at all." The blond warrior chuckled.

The bard’s eyes were fixed on the body next to her, drying blood hardening on the lovely young woman’s clothing. "Callisto, you don’t have to do this, you..."

"Oh, but I do, Gabrielle, I do... The only question is what to do. Sometimes there are just too many options, aren’t there?" She regarded Eleni for a moment, then Xena, and her face grew hard. "You do like the beautiful ones, don’t you?" she said, turning a bitter face up to Memphus who was still struggling, the muscles of her stomach and thighs rippling and contorting as she twisted in mid-air, those on her arms bulging. A pregnant pause followed. "Were you thinking of her when you were with me? When you had your hands inside me! I wonder... But maybe not. No, most definitely not. She was sweet, wasn’t she? You probably adored her, touched her gently, whispered sweet nothings in her ear... You probably left your weapons outside the door and dusted off your boots. I wonder, did she know about your drunken indulgences, hmm? I doubt I was the only one. No, you probably took all your pent up aggression out on strangers, making sure you only treated her like a queen, while you treated the rest of us like your playthings."

The blond warrior looked around the room at her three captives, and her shadowed face seemed to glow with growing anger. She leaned down to the bard. "That’s how Xena treats you. She has fun with me, I challenge her. Then she gets to make her little fires with you at night, tuck you in, read your bedtime stories and fuck you ever so gently so you can come with a dainty little ‘oh!’"

"Callisto..."

"Shut up!" the blond warrior screamed. "Shut. Up. I...I need time to think, time to clear my head..." She ran a hand across her forehead and hair distractedly. Suddenly she turned and began moving toward the door. "I’ll be back." A gleaming smile washed across her face. "Don’t anybody go anywhere." And she was gone.

Moments passed in silence, all eyes staring at the closed door. Then the two warriors focused on Gabrielle. Xena’s head jerked toward the wall, and Gabrielle saw that Xena’s clothing lay there in a pile, her chakram and sword with it.

"Right," Gabrielle said, carefully negotiating a standing position; there was no give in the rope around her ankles. She began to hop across the room, crouching and pulling the sword from its sheath. She stared at it for a moment, running possible scenarios through her head before figuring it out: she set the blade between her tightly-clamped knees, rubbing the bindings against it furiously, her breath caught in her chest as she watched each strand of rope fray, then snap. She turned the sword on the bindings at her ankles, sawing through them, her breath short and ragged with tension as she worked. "Almost there, almost there," she murmured, as she heard the twanging of the warrior’s cords and their muffled yells as they urged her along. "Okay!" she breathed, turning to liberate the strung heroes.

"You really shouldn’t have done that, Gabrielle."

The back of Callisto’s hand came across the bard’s face, snapping her head sideways. She stumbled, regaining her balance and turning to face Callisto in alarm, just as the reedy warrior spun, her leg kicking backward, her boot catching Gabrielle in the ribs. The air exploded from the bard’s lungs, and she was projected backwards, slamming into the wall.

Callisto laughed, her hands primly on her hips. "Oh, it’s just been so long, I’d forgotten how much fun this is." Her smile turned to a grimace as she screamed, lunging and digging her fingers into the bard’s reddish-gold tresses, Gabrielle crying out as Callisto dragged her around and flung her across the room. She slammed into the far wall. Callisto sauntered over to the crumpled, moaning bard. "You’re just too easy, Gabrielle. Aren’t you even going to try? Are you really this pathetic on principle?" The blonde reached down for the bard with a sneer. Surprise flooded her face as her legs were swept out from under her; her back made a jarring connection with the floor, and the bard’s booted heel planted itself firmly in her stomach, leaving her gasping as she rolled, avoiding the second stomp. She rolled to her feet, chuckling, but her eyes were set. "Been practicing, have we?" she huffed. "Why don’t we see how good a student you are then, hmmm?" She drew her sword, brandishing it and smiling menacingly at the bard. Then she tossed it lightly, the hilt falling into Gabrielle’s startled hands. Callisto’s booted toe kicked Xena’s sword up, and she plucked it out of the air, studying it. "It’s been a long time since I’ve used this ugly thing, too." She turned her attention back to the bard, who was holding the sword in front of herself uncomfortably, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Just like old times, Gabrielle, isn’t it? Remember when I gave you that lesson in swordplay? Let’s do it again, shall we? But this time, we’re playing for keeps." She screamed as she lunged at the bard, slicing downward.

Gabrielle blocked that strike and the barrage that followed; she used the sword as a staff, parrying and deflecting as best she could. But she was losing ground, Callisto steadily advancing, pushing her backward. She stepped back again, and her ankle twisted off an unexpected obstacle; she fell, arms and sword flailing, and landed on the dead woman’s rigid corpse.

"Bye-bye, Gabrielle," Callisto said, smiling a crazed sweetness as she raised Xena’s sword up, preparing for the plunge into the fallen bard’s chest, "it’s been swell." She brought the sword down. The tip stopped inches from Gabrielle’s chest, Callisto’s forearms crashing to a stop on the bloody, shredded forearms of Memphus, whose elbow then shot upward, crushing Callisto’s nose and sending her stumbling backwards; the sword clattered down by Gabrielle’s face.

Memphus advanced, hobbling painfully, blood dripping from her wrists and ankles; she extracted her gag, letting the crimson cloth fall from her long fingers. Callisto pushed herself up to an elbow, dazed, blood running between the fingers that she clamped to her nose. The smoldering brown eyes pinned her. The dark warrior stepped over her, straddling her, her eyes boring into Callisto. She sank down, the protests of her screaming muscles evident in the halting movement, but her eyes shining with a different kind of pain. "Eleni was my half-sister," she snarled. "She was the only family I had left."

Callisto’s mouth dropped open, a look of remorse and horror pulling at her features before her gaze darted behind Memphus. Memphus ducked and let her body fall away, but it was too late, Xena’s fist slamming into her ear, sending her body crashing off Callisto and her senses whirling. The roaring in her head kept Memphus disoriented just long enough for Xena to pin an arm and leg against her back painfully.

"Get out of here, Callisto, you have your favor," Xena snarled without turning her attention from the now-struggling woman beneath her; her jaw was set in determination and disgust.

"Xena, what are you doing?" the bard yelled, scrambling to her feet, but was ignored as Xena fought to maintain control of the bucking warrior. Gabrielle pulled at Xena’s forearms.

"Gabrielle!" Xena’s warning roar was followed by a tempered kick to the bard’s midsection that propelled her backwards, the warrior wincing at the action. She turned her fury back at Callisto. "Get out of here!"

"Xena!!" Memphus yelled, twisting her body violently under Xena’s pressure and weight; the tendons of each joint screamed in pain as she twisted them beyond their already strained capacity. "Let me go! By the gods, Xena, don’t deny me this! Let me go!"

Callisto stood, wobbling momentarily, but soon smiled behind the blood and quickly-swelling nose. "Lucky for me you’ve become a woman of your word, Xena. How did you guess?"

"Go!" Xena bellowed, "Now! I can’t hold her much longer! I won’t," she added, leveling her full fire-blue glare at the blonde.

Callisto squatted, lowering herself to look into Memphus’ rage-contorted face where sweat and tears mingled with the blood and dirt that streaked it. She drew her hand across the cheek that wasn’t pressed into the floor, and the rapidly tiring Memphus’ futile struggling was stilled. "I didn’t know," Callisto whispered sadly.

Xena’s lapsing hold tightened as she felt movement again below her, but it was sobbing that racked Memphus’ body, not escape, and Xena eased her grip.

Memphus turned her face from Callisto. "Get out," she snarled.

A single tear rolled down Callisto’s cheek before her expression hardened. She met Xena’s eyes defiantly before turning and exiting the house, slipping into the night. A distant "Haw!" was heard, then a quickly fading galloping.

Xena slowly released her hold, then eased herself off the broken warrior’s back. Memphus seemed not to notice, her body still spasming with anguish. One blood-covered hand reached out for Eleni, and Memphus dragged herself toward her slain sister, embracing her as she continued to cry.

Xena pulled Gabrielle up and led her away, leaving Memphus to grieve.

 

Chapter 16

"Don’t forget to change those. Often." Gabrielle finished binding the bandages around the snarled flesh of Memphus’ wrists.

"Yeah," came the response; Memphus met the bard’s concerned eyes only briefly. "Thanks." As Xena entered the tiny kitchen of Eleni’s house, Memphus stood abruptly and edged past the warrior, her face stone cold.

Xena’s face was just as rigid, but there was no malice in hers. In silence, she began rolling the extra bandages and stuffing them into the bag with other medicinal supplies. She saw the bard’s furrowed brow, and sighed angrily. "I already explained it to you, Gabrielle. I made a promise. I gave her my word."

"Xena, the only reason Callisto knew where I was was because she was behind all of it. It was a set up. Callisto misled you into thinking you had to make that promise." The bard’s cheeks were flushed with heated emotion.

Xena put her hands on Gabrielle’s shoulders. "A promise is a promise, Gabrielle. I had to know where you were. I would’ve done anything she asked for." She looked intently into the hazel-green eyes, but the bard shook her head gently.

"But it was just a trick, Xena..."

The warrior turned away, and they continued to pack their belongings in silence.

"Xena?"

The warrior grunted acknowledgment grudgingly.

"I think... I think a part of you just didn’t want Callisto dead."

The warrior froze.

"She’s been a part of your life for so long now, and I know you feel guilty about her family…"

"Maybe you’re right."

"What?" the bard whispered, the admission silencing her.

Xena sighed, slinging the pack over her shoulder and turning to Gabrielle. "I said there may be something to that. A small something," she added dangerously, signaling that no more exploration of the issue was welcome. She exited through the back door.

Watching her go, Gabrielle bit her lip in contemplation. She walked back into the main room, stopping as she caught sight of Memphus standing by Eleni’s bed. She walked quietly to the doorway, silently watching as Memphus sliced through the blood-soaked dress that covered Eleni’s corpse, her hand visibly trembling as she sheathed her dagger, the blood uncharacteristically left to dry upon it. Memphus reached into the steaming bin beside her and wrung the cloth she took from it, her hand hesitating before parting the stiff cloth and wiping the deep stains from her half-sister’s skin, gently. She dipped the cloth in another bin, and as she wrung it, the water ran crimson. For a moment, action stopped, then a shudder spread from her shoulders throughout her body, and she sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself, leaning her head against the wooden bed frame as the sobs she tried to contain sputtered out.

Gabrielle put a hand up to her mouth to stifle a sob as her own tears began to flow, and she rushed to Memphus, putting her arms around her. The warrior stiffened at her touch, but the tears in Gabrielle’s eyes broke her down again, and she allowed the bard to encase her, clinging to her and wailing into the reddish-gold hair, soaking it with her grief. "It’s okay, let it out," the bard repeated gently.

"Gabri..." Xena was cut short by the sight, jealousy and guilt rising up bitter in her throat. The bard had not heard her. She watched silently for a moment from the doorway before tearing herself away and silently returning outside to busy herself.

Memphus ran her forearm across her nose, the leather wristbands providing no help; she grimaced as the momentarily-forgotten pain in her wrists returned. She batted roughly at the tears that still clung to her eyes, struggling to control the sniffling that racked her body. "Thank you, Gabrielle," she managed.

The bard smiled, wiping her own tears away and reaching out to the tears puddling on Memphus’ cheek.

The warrior reached up for the hand at her face, the deep brown eyes locking the bard’s. "Gabrielle... I didn’t mean those things I said."

Gabrielle smiled softly again, her face flushing lightly. "A part of me knew that...but they really hurt anyway. Because...because I thought there was something between us. You know?"

Memphus hung her head as she nodded.

Gabrielle took Memphus’ chin in her hand and raised it, forcing her to meet her eyes. "I’m not upset anymore." Her smile waned. "But I’ve wondered... Did you...did we...only because..." she struggled.

"No, Gabrielle. Not ‘because.’" The warrior’s smile glowed softly, and the bard exhaled in relief, her own shy smile the return. Memphus gently pressed her lips to Gabrielle’s. "Not ‘because,’" she whispered into them, then slowly pulled away, Gabrielle’s eyes slowly opening. "Now go. Take Xena away from here for me, okay?"

Gabrielle nodded breathlessly and stood, pausing. "Will I…"

Memphus smiled tenderly. "Yes, you’ll see me again. Go," she directed gently.

Gabrielle expelled a tight breath, then turned and walked out. She glanced back at the warrior one last time before stepping outside; Memphus smiled briefly before turning back to her sister. Gabrielle found Xena outside, doing something remarkably like pacing, and sighed. She stepped up to the warrior, her small hand coming up to Xena’s cheek. Xena kissed the inside of Gabrielle’s hand, then took it in her own. They walked to Argo, Xena mounting and putting a hand down for the bard. "Why don’t you ride with me for a little bit? I’d like to make some good time." She pulled Gabrielle up behind her.

"Yeah, that’s a good idea." The bard molded herself into the warrior’s back, wrapping an arm around her stomach, and they set off at a light canter.

 

© 1999 Sonia C. Barrera

Hope you enjoyed it. Comments welcome: s_barrera@hotmail.com

 


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