Xena watched the little bard scoop the last of the thick porridge from the earthen bowl, deposit the heaping spoonful in her open mouth, followed by a large wedge of bread. The warrior supported her chin with one hand and focused an amused gaze on the girl’s energetic activity. As the soft chin bounced rhythmically, chewing the food behind the puffed cheeks, the green eyes met the blue eyes trained on her face.

The bard swallowed once, chewed for a moment longer, then turned to the warrior’s soft grin, the wheat-hued brows disappearing under the soft, blonde bangs.

"What?" the bard mumbled, when she had cleared enough of the full mouthful to speak around it.

Xena laughed quietly and shook her head slightly. "Amazing," she said, smiling warmly at the bard’s fresh face. "I guess you feel a little better this morning, huh? Headache all gone?"

Gabrielle swallowed the rest of the food in her mouth and trained a warm smile at the warrior. "Yes, thanks to you," the little blonde said. "You really do have talented fingers, my warrior friend." She raised the mug of water to her lips and sent an impish gaze over the rim. Xena returned the smirk with a faintly disapproving scowl. She raised her own mug.

"Shh," she hissed at the bard’s grin. "Don’t let that get around, they’ll wonder what you really mean." The warrior took a slow drink of cider to cover her own suggestive smirk.

Gabrielle giggled softly as she lowered her mug. She rested her arms on the table, both small hands surrounding the vessel.

"So, what’s on your schedule for today?" she asked the warrior. "Fishing, maybe?"

Xena threw an astonished look at the bard’s teasing grin. "By the gods, woman. When do you NOT think of food?" Her warm smile undermined the mock seriousness of her tone. She gazed fondly at the young woman, pleased to notice most of the tenseness and disturbed agitation from the previous evening had faded from behind the soft green eyes. She studied the sweet face, carefully inspecting for any signs of returning fatigue.

A moment later, Xena’s keen senses were alerted. She turned toward the group of men advancing across the room toward their table. The warm smile was quickly replaced by her normal, stoic gaze. Xena lowered her mug and braced herself as the men continued toward them.

Gabrielle reacted to the change in the warrior’s attitude. She followed the steady gaze to the group of males, then glanced back to the tanned face. She noticed the warmth she had recently enjoyed was no longer present in the clear, sky-colored eyes. She turned to face the approaching group.

Three of the four men she recognized as the Elders of the Town Council. Musaeus had pointed them out to her the afternoon they had tried a short walk around the Town Square as a method for dispelling her male friend’s lack of concentration. The fourth man, she remembered, was the handsome blacksmith who had been so helpful with Argo’s sick foot.

One gray-haired man pushed to the front of the group, arriving first at the opposite side of the table. He drew himself up straight, one weathered hand laid flat across his ample middle, the other gripping a tall, carved walking stick. His mature, creased face showed a formal determination as he faced the little blonde, cleared his throat and spoke in a smooth, even voice.

"Miss Gabrielle?" he began, causing the bard’s green eyes to widen in surprise.

"Yes, I’m Gabrielle," she answered, favoring the elderly inquirer with a warm smile. "Can I help you, Elder?"

The aged official returned the girl’s smile. He glanced openly at the warrior sitting immobile at the young woman’s side, then returned his attention to the bard’s open expression. "We would like a word ...." The man looked directly at the leather-clad woman. "...with your friend, if you wouldn’t mind."

Gabrielle turned to the warrior, noticing the slight rise of the familiar eyebrow. She posed a silent question to her friend, interpreted the answer and turned back to the aged face across the table.

"No, I don’t mind," the bard said calmly, striving hard to conceal the amusement tickling her throat. "But you don’t need to ask permission, Elder. It’ll be our pleasure." She turned an innocent expression toward the stiff warrior. "Right ... ‘friend’?" the little blonde chirped, pursing her lips to answer the murderous look in the blue eyes. The bard turned back to the Elder. He nodded slightly, turning somewhat hesitantly to the tall woman’s crystal gaze.

He cleared his throat again.

"Well, ah ... warrior," he began in a business-like tone.

"She has a name, Hagen." Enoch spoke reproachfully, stepping to face the steady gaze. "Xena," he said, addressing a gentle apology to the ice-blue crystals. "This is Elder Hagen," he indicated the senior gentleman. The warrior’s focus floated to the mature face, then returned to the smithy’s. "And this is Elder Turnis and Elder Perdix." He motioned toward the other two men. Xena’s eyes traveled over the two worn expressions, the hardness in the blue pools easing slightly.

"They want to ...." He turned to acknowledge the older men. "We would like to ask your advice on something." The smithy’s gaze rested openly on the warrior’s. "Do you have a moment?"

Xena considered the man’s honest expression. The slender body relaxed slightly as the warrior glanced quickly at the bard’s curious grin. She sat back, casually resting against the wall behind her, crossed her long arms over her waist and met the gentle brown eyes of the smithy.

"Yes, I have a moment," she said smoothly. She returned the man’s open gaze.

Enoch motioned for the men to seat themselves. The two silent Elders slid onto the bench facing the bard while Enoch sat down on the edge of a nearly table, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. Hagen perched on the end of the bench nearest the warrior. He peered into the woman’s deep blue eyes then let his eyes travel over the sculpted face and the lean, sinewy body.

‘Such an exquisite woman,’ he thought ruefully. ‘This beautiful creature cannot be the barbarian others have said her to be.’ He gave his head a little shake. When he noticed the sapphire pools were trained on his face, he cleared his throat, took a quick breath and addressed the woman in leather.

"Well then ... Xena," he began nervously. "It has come to our attention that there are several ... ah ...." The wizened gaze swept the table top. "Shall we say ‘undesirable types’ now occupying a camp in the small valley just to the east of town." Hagen paused to let the tall woman react. The blue eyes traveled over the three aged faces returning to meet the speaker’s gaze.

"Yes, I’ve seen them," Xena said finally, her tone emotionless. She glanced at the bard’s slightly surprised expression then refocused on the Elder’s face.

"You have?" the bard asked quietly only a beat before the smithy voiced the same question. Xena turned to Enoch’s curious gaze.

"Yes. The day I took my horse out on her new shoes?" she said meaningfully. "It was the same day I met a handsome, young ... colt," the warrior finished evenly, keeping her eyes on the smithy’s inquisitive expression. "He’s solid black, with a white blaze down his face?" The handsome male face softened in a slow understanding. Xena turned back to the Elder. "I saw three of the men you’re talking about. They were at the edge of the clearing." Her eyes swept over the three mature faces. "So, what’s the problem?"

The two Elders across from the bard clustered in a muffled conference, then turned expectantly toward their leader. Hagen bent toward the warrior confidentially.

"Well, that’s just it you see?" he said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "We don’t know what they’re up to, but it’s obvious, they’re a rather unsavory lot, wouldn’t you agree?" He fixed a knowing gaze on the stoic face.

Xena glanced at the smithy sitting quietly on the edge of the table. The tanned face was attentive, yet the warrior could sense a degree of regret at the Elder’s snobbish attitude. She met the brown eyes a moment before turning to the bard’s green gaze. The coldness in the rigid face faded slightly as the blue eyes traveled quickly over the girl’s soft face. A tiny, subtle grin met the little blonde’s warm expression.

‘You’ve given me this, too,’ she thought, the blue gaze softening tenderly. ‘Now I get offended anytime I hear anyone being judged without cause, even if they do seem to deserve it.’ She turned away from her soulmate and back to the Elder across the table.

"Well, they seemed a little ‘road worn’, but otherwise, they looked pretty harmless." She met the mature gaze, her blue eyes returning to their steady intensity. "Just what do you want from me, exactly?" Her internal senses were wavering again, but the bronze face betrayed no emotion.

Hagen exchanged glances with the smithy and the other two members of the Council. He assumed an authoritative manner as he met the warrior’s blue eyes again. "Well, they’ve also been seen near the cave, you see?" The cobalt pools remained non-committal. Hagen leaned forward, compelled to explain the situation further. "The cave? The one in the clearing? The one where the scrolls were found. The ones your friend has been ...."

"I know which scrolls you mean," Xena said, a small degree of irritation in her tone. She became aware of a gnawing uneasiness; the conversation was heading in a distressing direction.

"Well, if those men should get their hands on them ... that is, any other scrolls that might still be discovered in the cave," Hagen continued. "I mean, their ‘sort’ would surely ... try to use them for their own ... distasteful means." He waited for the warrior to respond, but she appeared unaffected by his remarks. He tried another approach.

"Worse than that, they might decide to threaten to defile them in some way, ransom them back to us, extort funds in order to preserve them." The Elder ended his impassioned speech and fixed a solicitous gaze on the warrior’s stony gaze. For a long moment, there was silence at the crowded table. Then Xena’s even voice sounded.

"You haven’t answered my question, yet," she said quietly. "What is it you want from me?"

Hagen resumed his official attitude, sat back from the table and addressed the bronze face importantly.

"We want you ...." The Elder flinched slightly at the hard sheen that had invaded the blue eyes. He moistened his lips and reconsidered his approach. "We’d like you to find out what their intentions are ... precisely." The azure pools remained steady and non-committal. "And if you determine that they are as ... untrustworthy as we believe they are, then you can ... deal with them as you see fit." Hagen’s statement hung in the air for a moment. "We’d be willing to pay you for your efforts, of course," the man finished lamely, then fell silent when he saw the clear blue eyes take on a steel gray hue.

Xena’s gaze left the Elder’s face and settled on the smithy’s. The tanned countenance displayed a noticeable wave of regret. The brown eyes closed tightly for a moment, opened to focus on the floor then rose slowly to meet the warrior’s. She read a sincere apology in the soft gaze. It dispelled only a portion of the anger building in her chest. She turned coldly to the mature face across the table.

"I am not a hired sword, available to the highest bidder." The icy tones shook the aged official as he physically recoiled from the slender woman across the table. "If you have a problem with these men, I suggest you find a way to approach them on your own." Gabrielle saw the chiseled jaw ripple under the smooth face. "I’m only here because my friend decided to ..."

The warrior’s stilted words were interrupted by the bard’s noticeable, and very contrived, clearing of her throat. The sound silenced the woman’s tense comments as the blue eyes swiftly traveled to meet the green gaze of the young woman beside her. Xena read the reproach in the emerald pools. She tried to reject the entreaty in the bard’s steady glance, but the girl’s intent stare soon dispelled the rancor in the bronze face. After a moment, the tall woman’s expression slowly changed to one of resignation. The bard’s little smile portrayed her approval of the warrior’s change in perspective. Xena let out a long, yielding breath and turned to the Elder again.

"All right," she said evenly, "I guess I could at least ‘investigate’." She cast a conciliatory look at the little blonde, glaring in response to the girl’s satisfied smirk. "But," she said, looking back at the Elders. "I’m not promising anything. You’re still not certain what these men intend to do." Xena turned an abiding gaze to the smithy’s supportive expression. "No use upsetting anyone until you have the facts." She looked directly at Hagen, her face cool and direct. "Right?"

"Of course," the Elder agreed. "Whatever you think is best."

The warrior’s blue eyes left the Elder’s and traveled back to the smithy’s. The brown pools were soft on hers, the tanned face cordial and supportive. She turned again to the aged official.

"I’m going back out there today anyway," she said. She turned pointedly to the blonde’s questioning look. "I still have some herbs to find and I promised someone I’d catch them some fish." The bard felt her face warming slightly. Xena turned back to the Elder. "I’ll let you know what I find." She paused a moment, her eyes still on his face. "Anything else?"

The three elderly men consulted each other before Hagen responded to the warrior. "No, no," he said, nervously. "We’ll leave the matter to you, then." The Council members vacated the wooden seat and prepared to leave the tavern.

Hagen took a step away from the table, then turned to address the smithy again.

"Enoch?" he asked. "Are you coming?"

"I have to get back to the stable," the tradesman responded before meeting the warrior’s eyes again. "I’ll get your horse ready."

Xena nodded. "Thanks," she said returning the man’s gaze. The blacksmith smiled warmly, stood up and followed the three officials out of the Inn.

Gabrielle watched as the warrior’s blue pools fell from the retreating figures to focus on the notched surface of the wooden table. The bard sensed the tenseness returning to her friend’s slender form; she waited until she saw the woman draw a slow, careful breath.

"So," the little blonde said to the stoic face of her friend. "What do you think?"

Xena raised her eyes to the bard’s. She saw the interest, the confusion and the guarded

concern mixed within the green gaze. She also read the slight strain of irritation.

"Like I told them, I won’t know what to think until I ‘investigate’ further." She gave the young bard a tiny smile.

"Why didn’t you mention these men before?" the bard asked. She looked away, her face a study in self-reproach. "I guess I have been a little preoccupied the last few days, but ...."

"Gabrielle," the warrior said, laying a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. "There wasn’t anything to mention. Like I said, they looked pretty harmless. I didn’t want to ...."

"Bother me?" the little blonde said, her gaze intent on the tall woman’s face. "Didn’t think I’d be interested, or what?"

"Didn’t think they were important," the warrior said firmly. "Just three ragged, scruffy men," she said, determined to ease the girl’s worry. "Like so many we’ve seen before." The blue eyes focused again on the wooden table top.

Gabrielle gazed intently at the bronze face of her best friend. She had grown accustomed to being patient when the warrior mulled something over in her mind privately, rather than share her impressions, or her impending plans, with the bard. She recognized the familiar signs in the woman’s expression; she knew her friend was considering various ways to proceed in the matter, weighing the virtues of one strategy against another. The young woman waited until she saw the signs of a decision reached and a method chosen.

"Well," Gabrielle said softly, "just be careful, all right?"

The warrior turned to meet the soft green gaze. She smiled warmly at the open face of her soulmate. "Always," she said, forcing a lightness into her voice. Her pulse skipped when she saw the look of dread behind the bard’s steady glance. She touched the girl’s slender arm. "I’ll be back before dark, no sweat."

Gabrielle closed her eyes for a moment as a wave of combined apprehension and fatigue swept through her. She sent an encouraging smile toward the golden face of the woman beside her, then took a deep, shaky breath herself.

"OK," she said haltingly, then smiled widely at the affection shining in the blue pools. "I guess I’ll see you later, then." The bard turned to gather the stack of materials that seemed to have become a regular part of her attire. The two women stood up and started toward the door of the tavern.

"Hey," the warrior said, "maybe I can bring those fish I’ve been promising you, huh?" She sent a teasing smirk at the bard.

"Just bring back you ... in one piece, if you don’t mind. All right?" the little bard said, the seriousness in her expression bringing a catch to the warrior’s throat. She let her eyes travel over the tanned face before turning toward the front door again.

Xena watched the little blonde’s small form pass through the open door. As the wooden panel thumped closed, the warrior swallowed hard against the tightness in her chest. ‘With you to come back to, how can I not?’ she said to herself. Then she turned and walked through the archway toward their room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xena slid her sword into its scabbard and neatly tied the lacings in place to secure the weapon to her back. She clipped the chakram on the hook on her belt and checked the placement of the leather cuff around her left arm. As she performed the rudimentary tasks, her mind considered the unsettling facts that were beginning to gnaw at her more and more.

‘Why would he insist that she transcribe a story incorrectly?’ she mused. ‘What’s his plan? What does he gain by such an obvious mistake?’

The tall warrior shifted the sheath on her back, repositioning the weight and alignment of the blade to her right hand. When she was satisfied she had returned the weapon to its familiar location, she tightened the leather gauntlet on her right arm and lifted her foot onto the wooden chair to check the lacings on her right boot. She continued the mental debate as she pulled at the leather thongs.

‘Surely he knows she’s smart enough to realize it’s wrong. What’s behind this little maneuver?’ She switched the foot on the chair and tightened the lacings on her other supple boot. As she tugged on the leather strips, she continued to sort and consider the specifics that had produced the nagging uneasiness that had plagued her since her conversation with the little bard the previous night.

‘And what do those creatures in the valley have to do with all of this?’ she wondered. ‘They seemed to be right at home in the clearing ... like they knew exactly what was there and where to find it.’ The warrior’s activity stopped momentarily while her mind considered her trip to the clearing. ‘Camber said Musaeus knew about them. Why would Musaeus have any use for scum like that?’

Slowly the lean form straightened as the vile nature of the young man’s plot became crystal clear to her keen intellect. The chiseled jaw tensed as the slender fingers tightened around the leather tie, snapping one side off in her hand.

Xena dropped her foot to the floor, her tall, muscled form trembling with rage. The blue eyes sparkled with impending fury, then slowly settled into a molten, steel-gray glare. The warrior’s mind bristled with the insidious conclusion now gleaming unfettered in her consciousness. A lethal calm settled slowly over the lean form.

After a moment, Xena became vaguely aware of the broken lacing dangling from her clenched fist. She turned a vacant stare toward the remaining bootstrap jutting from the side of her right boot. She pulled her foot back up onto the wooden chair, repaired the broken lacing, then returned her foot to the floor. The warrior took a slow, deep breath and forced the tenseness from her shoulders.

‘Very, very clever", the tall woman murmured, her blue eyes narrowing, the sculpted jaw clenching tightly around the bitter words. Xena stood very still for a few minutes, her rapier mind sorting and disseminating information. Finally, when she had settled on her planned strategy, she opened her fists and relaxed her jaw as a primitive grin spread over the sculpted face.

"Not while I draw breath, you weasel," the warrior said to the empty room. "I’ll send you to Hades first."

Xena strode purposefully out of the sleeping room and walked down the hallway toward the tavern.

When she reached the dining area, she searched the room for Minerva. She found her, standing behind the bar, replacing ale mugs on the shelf along the wall from the tray cradled in her other arm. Almost as if she sensed the tall woman’s glance, the auburn-haired girl turned to meet the azure pools. The two women moved toward each other, their paths ending at the end of the long, wooden bar.

"Your friend just left," the waitress said.

"I know," Xena said. "I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a moment?"

"Talk to me?" Minerva asked, a nervous glaze behind her eyes.

Xena tried to relax the strident agitation in her stomach. She leaned casually against the wooden counter and gave the young woman a thin smile. She didn’t want Minerva to feel intimidated and, her familial relationship with Musaeus aside, the warrior respected the young woman’s straightforward manner and simple, honest attitude.

"I just need some information, Minerva," Xena began gently. "Maybe you can help me with some things that are ... confusing me, all right?"

The young waitress nodded, her eyes meeting the warrior’s honestly. "All right. What do you need to know?"

Xena took a short breath and focused on the wooden bar for a moment. When she raised her eyes to the girl’s, she saw a level of dread behind the hazel gaze. The warrior’s intuition sensed an uneasiness in the young woman’s stance. It made her hesitate, suddenly unwilling to cause the girl any further distress.

"It’s about Musaeus, isn’t it?" Minerva asked, her eyes level on the warrior’s. "He’s in some kind of trouble again." It was a statement, not a question. "I saw the Elders talking to you. Is he ...."

Xena’s smooth face was warm as she returned the young woman’s nervous stare. "I didn’t say that. In fact, I’m not sure that’s true at all." She saw the waitress relax somewhat. "I just want a little information, that’s all."

Minerva swallowed nervously and glanced at the bartender standing at the far end of the counter, tightening the corks on several jugs in front of him. When he turned to meet her gaze, his fleshy face showed he accepted the reason for the interruption in the girl’s duties; she was ‘tending to a customer’. He threw the warrior a solicitous smile and returned his attention to the corks. Xena turned back to Minerva. "Tell me about this cave everyone’s talking about. When did Musaeus find the scrolls there?"

Minerva’s gaze darted away from the blue eyes for a moment as the girl considered the warrior’s question. "About four moons ago," the girl said, returning her attention to Xena’s face. "I remember he came in here, all excited about his ‘find’. He told me he had been exploring the hills around the clearing, trying to see if there were any caves where there might be some kind of ... treasure." The young face showed an impatient scowl. "His word, not mine," she told the warrior. "Musaeus always was one to spend time looking for the ‘prize of the era’. The gods forbid he would ever look for decent work."

The warrior’s face remained open. She briefly felt sympathy for the young woman, but she turned her mind toward other pressing matters.

"Has he ever taken you there?" she asked Minerva. "Have you ever seen it?"

"No," the waitress said, sourly. "He’s made it very clear that he considers it ‘his’ cave and he gets very upset when anyone else even mentions going there." The girl’s face lit in a dimpled grin, the hazel eyes twinkling unexpectedly. "Besides, who wants to spend time in a damp, dingy old cave, anyway?"

The warrior grinned easily. She was glad to see the young face relax, for a change. But as Minerva studied the tall warrior’s clear blue eyes, she felt a palatable shiver when she saw the hard coldness sweep over the woman’s piercing gaze. The girl swallowed and glanced nervously at the pudgy bartender.

"Is there anything else you wanted?" she said, her eyes directing the warrior’s attention to the round Innkeeper. "Otherwise, I have to get back to work."

"No," Xena said, covering the girl’s hands with her own. "Thank you, Minerva. You’ve been a big help." She put a kind hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Minerva turned away from the tall woman, then looked back to capture the blue eyes again.

"If Musaeus is in trouble ..." she began, her voice wavering. She looked down at her hands, then back at the warrior. "He’s still my brother, you know? He’s all I’ve got."

Xena felt a wave of compassion for the young woman. Her loyalty to her brother touched the warrior’s honor; it made what she suspected even more uncomfortable. She met the girl’s concerned look with as much honesty as she could.

"I know, Minerva. I’ll let you know what I find out. OK?"

The girl nodded, then moved slowly away to resume her duties. The warrior’s jaw tensed as she drew a deep breath.

‘Why is it always the loyal ones who get hurt?’ she thought bitterly. ‘Sorry, Minerva.’

She strode out of the Inn toward the stables.

True to his word, Enoch had Argo saddled and ready when Xena entered the barn. She gathered the reins and led the mare outside. As she checked the girth strap, the smithy appeared beside her.

"Thanks for your trouble," she said without meeting the man’s gaze. "I should be back by dark. I’ll have more of an idea about things then."

"Xena," the man said and the warrior turned to meet the brown gaze. "About Camber ... and that black horse."

The warrior faced the smithy, reacting to the seriousness of his tone. She saw the fatherly concern in the handsome face, yet she recognized something else in the hesitant expression.

"Yes?" Xena asked. She studied the tanned countenance again, and felt a subtle grin warming her own face. "You ... don’t think he should try and catch it, do you?" The smithy’s

smile was part relief and part surprise. He met the warrior’s intent stare.

"How did you ... what made you come to that conclusion?" he asked her, his brown head tilted in scrutiny. The expression changed to one of proud challenge. "Don’t you think he could handle that colt?"

The warrior’s grin widened at the pride in the man’s voice. "Oh, I think he could handle any horse he set his mind on." She watched the resentment clear from the smithy’s face. "But the colt might have other ideas." She paused, trying to find the best way to express her opinion.

"That horse is a wild creature, born wild. He didn’t seem the type that would take to a bridle and tack easily." The smithy’s brown eyes were steady on hers. She turned back to the saddle on the mare.

"I think he has a right to stay ... free," Xena finished quietly, slightly unnerved by the passion she heard in her own voice. She turned back to Enoch. "Isn’t that what you really think, too? That maybe the colt shouldn’t be tamed, that he should be left to his freedom?"

The smithy’s handsome face turned sheepish under the warrior’s level stare. He focused his attention on the piece of leather he held in his fingers. After a moment, he met the clear blue eyes again and she heard his gentle laugh.

"You’re very intuitive," he told the tall woman.

"So I’ve been told," she admitted a trifle embarrassed herself. "Would you rather I don’t ... help him quite so much?"

Enoch thrust his big hands behind the bib of his leather apron. He concentrated on tracking a line in the dirt with his boot. "Well ... that is still your decision," he said, meeting the blue eyes again. "But, if it were up to Camber ...."

"If what’s up to me?" a young voice said behind them. Xena turned toward the sound as the smithy also focused on his son’s young face. The youngster’s expression lit in a smile when he noticed the warrior’s saddled horse, apparently ready for their planned trip to the clearing. Xena trained an apologetic look at the smithy, then turned to the boy’s eager expression.

"Ah, Camber," she began taking a step toward the youngster. "I’m afraid we’re going to have to postpone our trip. Something’s come up and I can’t ...."

The boy’s face fell as his disappointment became clearly apparent. "You promised!" he said, his little form stiffening in anger. "You gave me your word."

Xena glanced at the smithy, then addressed the boy again. "I know, but I have to do something for the Council and I’m afraid it can’t wait." She could tell the youngster was not impressed by her implied urgency. "We’ll have to try for tomorrow, all right?"

Camber’s eyes went from her face to his father’s and back again. He thrust his small fists onto his hips and glared at the warrior’s contrite expression, his mouth contorted in a willful pout.

"You’re just like every other grown-up!" he snapped at Xena. "Giving your word doesn’t mean anything!" And with that he stomped toward the barn, his pace brisk, his manner extremely angry. Xena watched the small form depart before turning to the smithy.

"He’ll be all right," Enoch said, putting a reassuring hand on the leather-clad shoulder. "I’ll talk to him." Abruptly the brown eyes swept over the sword laced to the warrior’s back, then traveled down to notice the round, metal disc hanging from the belt of her leathers.

"Looks like you’re expecting more trouble than you admitted to the Elders, huh?" The brown eyes became serious as he gazed at the piercing blues. Xena walked back to Argo, grasping the stirrup on the side of the saddle. She put her boot into the metal piece and swung herself onto the horse’s back.

"Just being careful," she said as she settled herself in the saddle. "Better to be prepared than to be caught unaware." She looked back to the smithy’s steady brown gaze. The look of concern made her slightly uneasy. The cobalt pools focused in the direction taken by the angry young boy. She looked down at the smithy again.

"Tell Camber I’ll make it up to him, all right? I’m sorry to have to disappoint him."

Enoch waved off her apology and stepped away from the mare. "Don’t worry about Camber. Just take care while you’re out there with those men." He smiled warmly at the warrior. "I’ll look for you before sundown, right?"

Xena nodded and touched her knees to Argo’s sides. The mare responded and the warrior sat forward in the saddle, settling herself into the tempo of the animal’s stride. Very soon they were headed toward the clearing and the confrontation she knew would not be pleasant.

~~~~~~~~~

When Gabrielle arrived at the little hut, she was a little surprised to see Musaeus already hard at work at the table. She tried to cover her reaction as she laid the scrolls and parchment she had carried from the Inn on the table. Musaeus’ boyish grin met her gaze as she moved to the other chair.

"Well, you certainly seem inspired today. What’s the occasion?" she joked, only partly sincere. She dismissed the young man’s wounded look.

"You said I should try and be more responsible, didn’t you? Well, I took your advice," Musaeus said, favoring the bard with his best ‘charming face’. "Besides," he grinned, "you’re a little later than usual, so I managed to get here before you." Gabrielle found herself laughing in spite of herself. She shook her head slightly as she sat down in the chair and selected a scroll to work on.

"How come?" Musaeus continued. "I mean, how come you’re so much later than usual, today? Everything OK?"

The little bard continued spreading the materials as she responded to the young man’s question.

"We had to wait until the Elders left." She glanced at Musaeus, then returned her attention to the scroll she had selected.

"The Elders?" the young man asked. "What were they doing at the Inn?"

"They came to talk to Xena about some men that have shown up near the cave. They wanted her to look into what they might be doing there." Gabrielle turned to the young bard, responding to the satisfied look she found on his face.

"Musaeus," she asked, "you look like you’ve just won the King’s Lottery." The young man’s smug grin widened. "Anything you want to tell me?"

Musaeus turned an appealing expression at the little bard’s curious glance. "I was just thinking about how lucky the town is to have both you and the warrior princess here. If anyone can handle those hoodlums, it’s Xena. Right?"

The little blonde nodded but her thin smile betrayed her conviction. "Right," she murmured quietly, then returned her attention to her work.

Musaeus waited until Gabrielle’s eyes left his face before giving in to his own private congratulations. ‘Not that she’ll ever find them, let alone discover anything about our little deal’, he gloated. ‘Not even the famous Xena is that good.’

After another silent smirk, he went back to making Gabrielle believe he was really working.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As she and Argo entered the clearing, Xena let her gaze sweep the edge of the trees, trying to determine if any of the men she had seen on her previous visit were anywhere nearby. The little glen seemed peaceful and calm, the light breeze rustling the branches of the trees and the long, wavy grass across the field. She guided the mare along the line of foliage, her senses tight and aware. When she arrived at the base of the large mounds, she pulled the horse to a stop and prepared to dismount.

Xena slid down from Argo’s back, tied the reins to a slim tree limb and started toward the cave. She had located the cavern during her last trip to the clearing, but after a short, cursory inspection, hadn’t seen anything she considered unusually impressive, or even out of the ordinary, for that matter. But the concern of the Elders about the men she’d seen and her little talk with Minerva describing Musaeus’ insistence on the cave’s location remaining ‘off limits’ to everyone but him had raised the warrior’s curiosity and her sense of foreboding.

As Xena took a few steps toward the opening of the cave, her quick reflexes detected another presence heading toward her. She slipped back behind the wall of foliage and stroked Argo’s nose smoothly. The golden horse sensed the woman’s apprehension and became perfectly still. The warrior trained a discerning gaze in the direction of the noise that had alerted her. After a few moments, she saw the trio of men striding toward the cave.

They were the same three men she had seen during her previous visit to the clearing the day she had met Camber and ruined his plans for the black colt. At this closer range, she recognized two of the ruffians and the clearness of that identity caused the lean body to stiffen as the blue eyes turned hard and cold.

"Phantaos", the warrior murmured bitterly. "So, the snake slithers out from under his rock," the woman seethed quietly. "What in Tartarus could you want with this little cave?"

From her vantage point hidden within the greenery, Xena watched the men casually saunter toward the little cave then disappear through the opening. She waited cautiously, keeping her eyes trained on the clump of leafy bushes hiding the entrance. Her senses remained alert, but the feeling of dread was tightening her stomach again. She stroked the mare’s nose slowly and kept her attention focused on the scraggy bushes.

A short time later, the three men emerged from the cave. Two of them carried what looked like small, wrapped parcels, slung easily over one shoulder, while Phantaos, the largest and most offensive of the group, had one beefy arm wrapped around a slightly larger bundle. The three men strode away easily, totally unconcerned with being discovered and completely unaware that their mission had been witnessed by the warrior. Soon the trio disappeared from Xena’s line of vision, their progress hidden by the tall weeds at the edge of the clearing. She waited a few more minutes until she was sure she couldn’t hear the heavy footsteps any longer and, more importantly, that the men wouldn’t be able to hear hers. Then she left her leafy hiding place and carefully made her way toward the cave.

Xena located the opening again, pulled the scraggy bushes to one side and stepped into the cavern. She acknowledged the damp, earthy smell and the close, restrictive atmosphere. When her eyes had adjusted to the dim, musty light, she felt along the wall for the torch she remembered using the last time. The fingers of one hand found the long piece of tree root while her other hand found the two flint pieces next to it. She clamped the root between her knees and struck the two stone pieces against each other.

After the third strike, a spark from the flint jumped to the oil-soaked head of the root and, within seconds, the torch burst into flames, throwing bright illuminations over the walls and the floor of the cave. The warrior stepped forward cautiously, holding the torch in front of her. After a few steps, she raised the burning root and let the light from the flames create a wider pool of light. She took a few more careful steps.

Xena determined she had again come to the obvious center of the small cave. The ceiling was high enough to extend an arm’s length above her upright stance and the sides of the cave were three, perhaps four paces in any direction from where she stood. The earth had been cleared around the large, granite boulders along the edge of the open area, and the rocks appeared to have been moved to allow for the investigation of the earthen walls behind them.

It was a small, primitive shelter, the walls around her showing the effects of prudent digging and excavation. She scanned the interior, recognizing the same evidence she’d noticed the last time, the same indentations at random locations in the walls, the same small cloth flags displaying letters and numbers denoting where certain scrolls had been unearthed.

‘Nothing new here’, the warrior thought. ‘Same stuff as last time’. She scanned the walls and ceiling of the cavern again, looking for any evidence she may have missed. When she stood with her back to the opening, an odd occurrence caught her attention and raised the hair on the back of her neck.

Xena’s focus was pulled to the torch’s flame. It wavered and jumped, then bent to one side, away from the root. The warrior recognized the phenomenon; the flame was being affected by a draft of air somewhere in the cave. What raised the woman’s awareness was the flame was leaping toward the opening of the cave, not away from it. That meant there was air coming from in front of her, not from the mouth of the cavern, where one would assume it would be. The blue eyes narrowed as she studied the wall directly opposite the cave’s access.

She stepped toward the large cluster of boulders in the wall before her, running her free hand slowly along the edge of the rocks, her fingers exploring the crevices between the massive pieces. Suddenly she felt something with a consistency unlike anything that would have been a natural aspect of the cave. This something was clean, smooth and metal. It was a hidden latch, a spring-loaded trigger that had been cleverly concealed behind the pile of rocks.

"Hello," the warrior said, her voice sounding rather loud in the quiet of the cave. "What have we here?" she asked whatever creature resided within the earthen cavity. She carefully explored the latch and the mechanism attached to it. After taking several minutes to examine the device, searching for any attached contrivance, she made a decision. There was really only one way to see what the lever controlled and that was to activate the latch and watch what happened. She moved an arm’s length away from the cluster of rocks, turned her body perpendicular to the latch, raised the torch above her head and slowly pulled the lever.

A moment later, the cluster of boulders began to move toward her, scraping the earth into a mobile trough in front of the lower edge as it traveled along the cave floor. Xena stepped back, keeping out of the rocks’ path, as the rumbling movement echoed loudly off the sides of the cave. The granite pieces moved as one large section, the individual stones now resembling a solid, wide, rocky trapdoor. After a few moments, the large edifice stopped moving and the warrior stood quietly, waiting until the quiet shower of pebbles around her had ended. She dropped to one knee to peer into the opening now displayed behind the cluster of stones.

‘Quite a piece of work’, she thought. She carefully explored the aperture and the walls around it. The opening was large enough for her to step into it without having to bend to even half her height and wide enough to afford easy access to the area beyond. Xena ran her hands around the space, searching for any kind of apparatus that might trigger the closing of the trapdoor, thus preventing her exit, when she decided to leave. When she found nothing suspicious, she stepped tentatively onto the wooden track behind the boulder-door, thrust the burning torch ahead of her and moved slowly through the opening.

She had taken only a few steps when she realized she could stand upright without her back coming into contact with any surface above her. She straightened, raised the torch higher and found herself standing open-mouthed and totally amazed at the sight now before her eyes.

Xena took a few slow steps into the area. After a moment, she saw another set of torches mounted on the wall near her. She touched the tree root to the metal fixtures and they sprang to life, throwing a wide blaze of light into a large, crowded cavern. The warrior walked slowly into the room.

The area was enormous, occupying a space at least two dozen paces in any direction from where she stood. The earthen walls were braced and supported with heavy, wooden timbers, the beams forming a sturdy latticework around the walls of the room. Pairs of torches had been set into the thick wood poles at regular intervals around the space. Between the posts were flat, level surfaces, arranged in neat, sturdy shelf units. And on the shelves, and in tall, rugged boxes on the floor and against the wall were rows and rows of merchandise.

The warrior moved toward the rows of boxes, examining the contents of the wooden crates and open, rattan chests. They all contained the same cargo --- weapons, in all manner of shape and lethal capacity. She found bows, arrows, daggers, shields, staffs, swords, chobos and chain gauntlets. There were axes, spears, whips and coil after coil of heavy rope. In a corner near the opening stood a collection of tall barrels and earthen jugs. She lifted the lid of one of the barrels and dipped one finger into the liquid contained there. From the smell and the texture she could tell it was oil, the same substance in which the tips of the torches had been soaked, the same deadly substance used to set afire any structure or building desired.

Xena felt her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands but the painful sensation barely registered in her awareness. The sculpted jaw clenched bitterly as the slender, sinewy form trembled with fury and rage. For a moment, the warrior’s breath caught in her throat and she slowly became aware of the pounding under her leather bodice. She took several deep, calming breaths and blinked hard to regain her control.

"Those putrid bags of slime," she sputtered. "This place is a temple of evil. The only thing missing is an altar to Ares!"

The tall warrior’s eyes traveled over the room again, a rancid, nauseous bile hovering at the back of her throat. The lean form eventually grew tranquil, placid as the certainty of her intentions settled clearly in her mind. The bronze face glowered in a primal, feral scowl.

"Not in this lifetime, Phantaos" she whispered quietly to the flickering torches. "Never again. Never, never again."

Xena turned abruptly, covered the mounted torches with a metal shield and waited until she was sure the flames had been extinguished. She stepped back through the hidden opening, reactivated the secret latch and watched the fraudulent rock cluster slide back into its concealed placement. She dropped her root torch onto the cave floor and stamped out the flames with her foot. Then she left the cave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Musaeus slipped the large volume back into its place on the shelf and raised his arms above his head. He stretched his back, loudly proclaiming the necessity of such a move for the benefit of the little blonde seated at the table. She raised her eyes to focus on the young man’s contorting form.

Gabrielle sat back in the wooden chair and rested her elbows on its wooden arms. She sent a warm smile toward her young compatriot as he walked across the small room to stand at the other end of the table. She read the impending request in his handsome face.

"OK," the young woman said. "I guess it is time to break for lunch, huh?" She grinned impishly at Musaeus’ boyish smile.

"Don’t you ever get hungry?" the young man chirped, his hands sliding onto his hips.

Gabrielle’s easy laugh filled the little hut. "Boy, that’s the first time anyone’s ever asked me that!" she said, then laughed heartily again. "Wait ‘til I tell Xena that one," the girl giggled. "She always says I can out-eat any wild creature in the known world."

Musaeus’ smile faded perceptibly at the mention of the warrior’s name. He dropped his eyes from the bard’s as the girl’s laughter subsided. When she noticed the slight scowl, the little blonde’s soft face reflected her curiosity.

"Something wrong?" she asked after a moment. She met the young man’s hesitant expression with a steady gaze.

"I asked you once before why you stay with her," Musaeus began, carefully shielding his resentment with a look of sincere support. "Sounds like she doesn’t really appreciate you ... if she says things like that."

Gabrielle felt her own irritation rising again, but the girl’s gentle nature tempered her reaction with a patient determination. She looked down at the new quill pen tip in her hands before meeting the young man’s eyes again.

"Musaeus," the girl said, "don’t you ever joke with your friends? That’s what friends do, they tease each other. Xena would never say anything to hurt me. We care about each other too much for that."

The young man shrugged, apparently accepting the girl’s remarks. He took another step toward the young woman, finally settling onto the edge of the table. "Yeah, I guess that’s true. You can only really joke around with your buddies." The brown eyes were earnest on the young blonde’s face. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything. But, like I also said, she seems so ...."

"Yeah, I remember. You said ‘dour and uninteresting’," the little bard said. "Oh, and I think you also used ‘rather imposing and formidable’. Did I forget anything?"

Musaeus’ blush was authentic. He was not accustomed to having his own words quoted back to him quite so exactly. He lifted himself away from the table top and stepped toward his own chair. "No, that’s pretty much what I said," he agreed sheepishly. He responded with relief to the little bard’s gracious laughter.

After a moment, Musaeus met the green eyes again. He knew he had to proceed carefully, but he needed the information that only this girl could provide. He took a short breath and sent a nervous glance toward the little blonde’s expectant expression.

"What did she tell the Elders? What does she plan to do about the men in the clearing?" The young man’s manner appeared casual, even though his senses were fine-tuned and alert.

"She didn’t say she was going to do anything," Gabrielle said. "As a matter of fact, she was very clear about not making any decisions until she could find out who they are and what they want." The girl’s tone depicted her loyalty. "Xena’s not one to jump to any conclusions; she always gets the facts before she takes any action."

Again, Musaeus displayed an accepting response. Gabrielle studied the handsome face for a moment longer, trying to decide what there was about the boyish expression that didn’t quite ring true.

"So," Gabrielle said finally. "I guess I’ll take a walk over to the Inn and see what the ‘special’ is today. You coming?" she said, slipping the quill pen into it’s pouch and rising from the chair.

"You go ahead, I’ll be right there," Musaeus said. "I want to finish up with this one first." He pointed to the scroll spread before him at the other end of the table. "It shouldn’t take too long. Tell Min’ I’ll be there shortly."

"OK," Gabrielle said and she walked out of the hut.

Musaeus smiled as Gabrielle left the hut, then he settled back into the chair, a pensive look invading his wary face.

‘All the facts, huh?’ the young man thought to himself. ‘Well, that’ll never happen ... at least not if I can help it.’ Musaeus considered his options, his mind measuring one course of action against another. Finally, he made a decision.

‘Maybe I should let everyone in on those facts ... make sure our friend the warrior princess doesn’t stick her nose in where it doesn’t belong.’ A hard, determined glare traveled over the young man’s face. In fact, he was so intent on his planned course of action, he wasn’t aware of the entrance into the hut by the very person who now occupied those private thoughts. Had he been more attentive, he might have been able to prepare himself for the impending meeting with that same warrior princess.

~~~~~~~~

When Xena led Argo into the stable, the hard determination in her expression caused Enoch to interrupt his work and follow her into the barn. She had no sooner loosened the girth strap on the saddle when he appeared at her side. The smithy studied the bronze face closely, noticing the rippling jaw and the steel gray glint to the crystal pools.

"We have to talk," Xena said stiffly, keeping her attention on the leather straps until the blacksmith relieved her of the saddle and turned to place it on the wooden rails of the stall. He turned back to the warrior, again reacting to the woman’s tense manner and the determined set to her mouth.

"OK," Enoch said quietly, his eyes steady on the tall woman’s face.

Xena raised her focus to meet the smithy’s gaze. "And you’d better get the Elders. They should hear this, too." She lowered her eyes to the earthen floor of the barn. "They’re not going to like it, but I can’t see any other way."

The blacksmith kept his eyes on the warrior’s face. He saw a look of deep regret travel over the sculpted features. He waited patiently when he sensed the woman had more to say.

"Gabrielle isn’t going to be happy with me, either," the warrior said, more to herself than to the man beside her. She trained the blue eyes on the tradesman’s tanned face. "But it has to be done," she said evenly. "Will you find the Elders? Tell them we’ll meet at the Inn in about a quarter candlemark."

Enoch nodded, took a step toward the door, then turned back to the quiet warrior.

"Xena?" he asked, an honest concern in his voice. "Are you all right?"

The leather-clad figure slowly responded to the soft question. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, although not very convincingly. "I’ll see you at the Inn, all right?"

The smithy nodded again, turned and left the barn. The warrior relaxed her fists, squared her shoulders and put a gentle hand on the mare’s strong neck.

"Well, here we go," she said to the horse. "I hope she understands what I have to do."

Argo whinnied softly and swung her golden head to meet the warrior’s pained expression. The large brown eyes seemed to offer the woman support. Xena stroked the animal’s neck for a long moment, then turned and left the barn, heading for the little hut.

As she was about to leave the stable, Xena recognized the bard’s small form walking across the town square, heading for the Inn. For a moment, the warrior enjoyed a slight feeling of relief. At least now she knew the bard would not be there to witness the ‘little talk’ she had planned to have with Musaeus. Xena had been dreading the thought of her friend’s reaction to her now-certain opinion of the character of the girl’s fellow bard. It would make the impending confrontation only slightly less unpleasant. She waited until the little blonde disappeared through the door of the tavern before crossing the square on her way to her meeting with the young male bard.

Continued - Part 6

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